What do you want to be, anyway?

A Sermon for All Saints' Sunday

Wisdom of Solomon 3:1-9, Psalm 24, Revelation 21:1-6a, John 11:32-44

“What do you want to be, anyway?”

That is the question a friend asked Thomas Merton not too long after his conversion from atheism to Roman Catholicism. Merton recalls this conversation in his spiritual autobiography, The Seven Story Mountain:

I forget what we were arguing about, but in the end Lax suddenly turned around and asked me the question:

“What do you want to be, anyway?”

I could not say, “I want to be Thomas Merton the well-known writer of all those book reviews in the back pages of the Times Book Review,” or “Thomas Merton the assistant instructor of Freshman English at the New Life Social Institute for Progress and Culture,” so I put the thing on the spiritual plane, where I knew it belonged and said:

            “I don’t know; I guess what I want is to be a good Catholic.”

            “What do you mean, you want to be a good Catholic?”

The explanation I gave was lame enough, and expressed my confusion, and betrayed how little I had really thought about it at all.

Lax did not accept it.

“What you should say” – he told me – “what you should say is that you want to be a saint.”

A saint!  The thought struck me as a little weird.  I said:

“How do you expect me to become a saint?”

“By wanting to,” said Lax simply.

“I can’t be a saint,” I said, “I can’t be a saint.” And my mind darkened with a confusion of realities and unrealities: the knowledge of my own sins, and the false humility which makes men say that they cannot do the things that they must do, cannot reach the level that they must reach: the cowardice that says: “I am satisfied to save my soul, to keep out of mortal sin,” but which means, by those words: “I do not want to give up my sins and my attachments.”

“What do you want to be, anyway?” Why not say that you want to be a saint?

Today we celebrate the Feast of All Saints’ in which we commemorate those exemplary disciples in the Church’s history who have inspired the imagination of Christians. We commemorate those who, as the Wisdom of Solomon says, “In the time of their visitation they shone forth, and ran like sparks through the stubble.” We commemorate all the saints, well known, less well known, unknown, and forgotten. We remember ‘official’ saints like Francis, Clare, Barnabas, Nicholas, Catherine, etc. and more contemporary ‘unofficial’ saints like Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Mother Teresa. And we rejoice in believing that we are united with them in the one great communion of the saints.

Why commemorate the saints? It is not to do them any favor. As Bernard of Clairvaux (1090-1153) said,

The saints have no need of honor from us; neither does our devotion add the slightest thing to what is theirs.  Clearly, if we venerate their memory, it serves us, not them. But I tell you, when I think of them, I feel myself inflamed by tremendous yearning.

The saints inspire us. If we let them, they also inflame a tremendous yearning in us to live lives of similar faithfulness, love, and joy. That yearning is the challenge of the saints. We need to be careful not to put them on a pedestal that makes them fantastical and unreal. Otherwise we will miss the challenge of the saints. And here is the challenge: all saints were made of the same stuff as you and me. By God’s grace and their own discipline they became more nearly what each of us could be, what each of us are meant to be – saints.

Of course, like Merton, we are all very aware of our own sin. But, there is also that false humility which makes us say that we cannot do the things that we must do, cannot reach the level that we must reach: the cowardice that says: “I am satisfied with not being any better or worse than most people” but which really means, “I do not want to give up my sins and my attachments.”

But, when we are honest with ourselves we know that that leaves us off balance and keeps us from entering more fully into the love and joy and peace that we believe God desires to pour into every crook and cranny of our lives. And it keeps us from being that love and joy and peace in the world around us.

What do you want to be, anyway? Why not say that you want to be is a saint?

What is a saint? Here is a description from one of my favorite singers, Leonard Cohen:

What is a saint? A saint is someone who has achieved a remote human possibility. It is impossible to say what that possibility is. I think it has something to do with the energy of love. Contact with this energy results in the exercise of a kind of balance in the chaos of existence. A saint does not dissolve the chaos; if he did the world would have changed long ago. I do not think that a saint dissolves the chaos even for himself, for there is something arrogant and warlike in the notion of a man setting the universe in order. It is a kind of balance that is his glory. He rides the drifts like an escaped ski. His course is a caress of the hill.  His track is a drawing of the snow in a moment of its particular arrangement with wind and rock. Something in him so loves the world that he gives himself to the laws of gravity and chance. Far from flying with the angels, he traces with the fidelity of a seismograph needle the state of the solid bloody landscape. His house is dangerous and finite, but he is at home in the world. He can love the shapes of human beings, the fine and twisted shapes of the heart. It is good to have among us such men, such balancing monsters of love.

Balancing monsters of love. What do you want to be, anyway? Why not say that you want to be is a balancing monster of love running like a spark through the stubble?

Frederick Buechner wrote this of saints:

Maybe more than anything else, to be a saint is to know joy. Not happiness that comes and goes with the moments that occasion it, but joy that is always there like an underground spring no matter how dark and terrible the night. To be a saint is to be a little out of one's mind, which is a very good thing to be a little out of from time to time. It is to live a life that is always giving itself away and yet is always full.

What do you want to be, anyway? Why not say that you want to be a little out of you mind, living a life that is always giving itself away and yet always full – full of the joy of God, running like a spark through the stubble?

Thomas Merton, in a different book wrote this about the sanctity that typifies a saint:

Sanctity is not a matter of being less human, but more human. This implies a greater capacity for concern, for suffering, for understanding, for sympathy, and also for humor, for appreciation of the good and beautiful things of life.

What do you want to be, anyway? Why not say that you want to be more human?

Why not? Is it cowardice and false humility? Sin and attachments? Complacency with being ‘less than human’, less than fully alive? When we are honest with ourselves do we not sometimes sense that we are less than fully alive – not fully alive to God, not fully alive to others, not even fully alive to ourselves? I sense it in myself. The saints are those who are more fully alive and they inflame a yearning in us to be similarly alive.

And they challenge us to respond to Jesus calling to us, “Come out and be unbound.” We are like Lazarus. Parts of us are dead and need resurrecting. We all know well enough that there are things shut up in our hearts that would cause a stench if we uncovered them. Sin and attachments bind us like strips of grave cloth.

Jesus stands before us, weeping, desiring to fill is with his life and love and joy and peace. We need only role away the stone and allow him to have his way with us. Diligently practicing the classic spiritual disciplines is how we take away the stone – self-scrutiny and repentance, prayer and fasting, practicing the self-emptying, patient love of Jesus.

This is not about trying to get God to love us more. Through Jesus, we know that God already loves us – however dead we might be. We cannot make God love us more because God already loves us freely and completely. But our sins and our attachments can get in the way of our experiencing that love. It is not that God loves the saints more but that the saints availed themselves more to that love.

Only God can work in us the radical life-giving change in us for which we yearn. Only God can right all that unbalances us. Only God can transform us into balancing monsters of love. Only God can produce in us inner springs of joy and make us more fully human, more fully alive. But, God usually waits for us to take away the stone. If we want it, we can do the things that open us to God’s Holy transforming Spirit. Do we dare take the stone away? Do we dare ascend the hill of the LORD with the saints and stand in his holy place?

Why not say that you want to be is a balancing monster of love running like a spark through the stubble?

Why not say that you want to be a saint?

Getting off the Fence – Testimony (2)

“A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a bad tree bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Thus you will know them by their fruits.” – Matthew 7:18-20

In the last post in this series, I mentioned that one of the things that had prompted me to reconsider the traditional biblical interpretation and church teaching on sexuality was the testimony of fellow believers in the church. And I gave examples of what I called the ‘negative’ testimony of the anguish of those who have tried to live into that traditional teaching. It is not just that they have found it hard, which we have every reason to expect being disciples of Jesus to be, but that they have found it to be a sacrifice that leads to death rather than life.

Now, I want to look at the ‘positive' testimony of my brothers and sisters.

Positive Testimony

In the early 1990’s I volunteered in the ‘Hand-to-Hand’ program of the San Jaoquin County AIDS Foundation in Stockton, CA. I was paired with a man, Barney, who had AIDS. Barney was straight and had requested a straight volunteer. But part of volunteering was going through some training and meeting monthly with other volunteers.

This was my first extensive engagement with gay men (it was mostly men). I remember being moved by one volunteer whose long-time partner had died of the disease. He expressed his deep grief the way any husband would express grief at the loss of his wife to cancer. Both the duration of their relationship and this man’s genuine grief did not fit the stereotype of gay men as selfish and promiscuous.

More challenging was the presence of gay men whose open faith in and reliance upon Jesus was undeniable. And these were not what one would consider ‘liberal’ Christians. Their piety was of a very Evangelical, if not Pentecostal, sort. More so than mine in some ways. Although I did not always find their explanations of how they reconciled affirming their sexuality with the Bible convincing, I could not deny the sincerity of their desire to follow Jesus.

The congregation I serve nearly closed about ten years after it was started. This was because the man who succeeded the first vicar was more than a little lacking in pastoral care, preaching, and other gifts that one hopes for in a priest. But more problematic was his inability to control himself sexually. He had more than one sexual encounter with women of the congregation. This was understandably devastating to the life of the parish. Many left and the handful that remained were demoralized. The bishop replaced this priest with Fr. George. Though in the early to mid 70’s being ‘out’ was not an option, Fr. George was gay. Undeniably faithful and pious, Fr. George turned things around and put a stamp on the character of St. Barnabas. He reached out to Wheaton College and accompanied many a young Evangelical on the ‘Canterbury Trail’ (a book, Evangelicals on the Canterbury Trail, was written by Robert Webber who joined St. Barnabas when Fr. George was vicar). He is now retired with his partner in another state. I am grateful to be one of his successors and hope to be as faithful a pastor and priest as he was.

Over the years, members of my congregation have ‘come out’ to me, or, as I put it in a prior post, ‘let me in’ on their life. I have had extensive conversations with them and others In the Diocese of Chicago. As a group, their piety and seriousness about their commitment to Christ is no different from that of other Christians I know. Or mine.

I have also gotten to know some gay and lesbian clergy colleagues in the Diocese of Chicago. It might be a surprise to some to know that several of the gay clergy I know are quite creedally orthodox and critical of liberal theology.

Finally, there are some gay theologians and spiritual writers for whom I have great respect generally who have written in favor of the bless-ability of Same-sex blessings (SSU). I mentioned  Martin Smith in the previous post, as one whose faithfulness is evident. James Alison is a openly gay Roman Catholic monk and thus celibate. Nonetheless, he has encouraged his church to rethink its teaching on the subject using arguments based on official Roman Catholic theology. I have benefited from his writing on theology generally and on this topic. I have also appreciated Eugene Rogers, a lay Episcopalian theologian. Not only do these men exhibit a commitment to orthodox Christianity, they demonstrate in their writing and the presence, a godly spirit of humility and generosity.

Of course I have also known gays and lesbians whose theology I consider suspect and whose character does not bear the marks of spiritual maturity. But that is just as much the case among straight people..

I know gays and lesbians who are desirous of living into the fullness of God’s will. I know gays and lesbians who robustly affirm the creeds and traditional Christian discipline in other areas and expect SSU to conform to the expectations and disciplines that have traditionally been the marks of Christian marriage. I know gays and lesbians who have lived into those expectations and disciplines faithfully for many years, often with little or no communal or ecclesial support.

What to make of this testimony?

We could dismiss it given that, in spite of Jesus’ words quoted at the beginning of this post, we know that, often enough, people who are in many ways good do indeed do bad things and are unable to shake the habits of some bad behavior. And we could (actually, we should) acknowledge that human beings are expert and creative rationalizers of their behavior. Maybe that is what is going on here. Our brothers and sisters might be blind to their sin in this area while remaining brothers and sisters to whom we still owe love and understanding even if we cannot condone behavior we are persuaded is sin.

But, I wonder. It does certainly seem to be the case that sometimes good trees bear bad fruit and bad trees appear to bear good fruit. And it is also certainly true that we are masters of rationalization. But, there is more to it than that. It is not simply the case that the more mature in Christ we become – the more good the tree – the more good fruit we will bear and the less bad. It is that ‘good trees’ become increasingly self-aware through the discipline of self-scrutiny and less inclined to rationalize and thus better able to repent of their bad fruit. One need not be an especially good tree to begin to see this. Most of the time we have some inkling that rationalizing is what we are about. Or, if in the moment, denial has the upper hand, we see it looking back on our life.

Similarly most of us know what lust feels like and how it plays in the imagination of our hearts. Those of us who are married know the difference between that and the desire we feel for our spouse. And that difference is about much more than the fact that we have a marriage certificate on file. One could say much the same about greed, gluttony, sloth, envy, malice, selfishness and other sins. The more mature we become, the better able to make those distinctions.

So, when Christians who give every indication of being mature, good fruit-bearing trees of faith say that they know what good fruit (virtue) ‘feels’ like and they know what bad fruit (sin) ‘feels’ like, and that their same-sex attraction and intercourse is more like the former than the latter, I suggest the rest of us should at least listen.

“Those who are unspiritual do not receive the gifts of God's Spirit, for they are foolishness to them, and they are unable to understand them because they are spiritually discerned. Those who are spiritual discern all things, and they are themselves subject to no one else's scrutiny.” (1 Corinthians 2:14-15)

Given the testimony of mature brothers and sisters, might we wonder if we are in a situation similar to Peter’s when the Spirit fell upon gentiles who he would not otherwise have expected to be candidates for that gift?

While Peter was still speaking, the Holy Spirit fell upon all who heard the word. The circumcised believers who had come with Peter were astounded that the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out even on the Gentiles, for they heard them speaking in tongues and extolling God. Then Peter said, "Can anyone withhold the water for baptizing these people who have received the Holy Spirit just as we have?" (Acts 44-47)

Next:Interpreting Scripture
Previous: Testimony (1)

Laughter is Eternity if Joy is Real

When the LORD restored the fortunes of Zion,

then were we like those who dream.

Then was our mouth filled with laughter,

and our tongue with shouts of joy.

(Psalm 126:1-2)

The beginning of the Psalm 126 has me thinking about this advertisement for Volkswagon:

 

 

And of the U2 song, Get on Your Boots, which contains these lines:

Free me from the dark dream

Candy bars, ice cream

All the kids are screaming but the ghosts aren't real

Here's what you gotta be

Love and community

Laughter is eternity if the joy is real

 

We have a basic choice:

To live rooted in fear

 

or

To live rooted in delight.
 

Why one or the other?

Jesus

 

Jesus said, "I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete." (John 15:11)
 

If what Jesus says is true, not just here but all that he said and all that he did, and if what the Church has understood him to have accomplished,  then our mouths should be filled with laughter, and our tongues with shouts of joy.

Laughter is eternity because joy is real.
 

See also:

 

Immortality vs Eternal Life

 

God’s Favor, Joy, and Peace Born in Our Midst

 

Of First Importance

 

Joy-Smuggling Servants of the God of Joy

 

Getting off the Fence – Testimony (1)

If we are to love our neighbors, before doing anything else we must see our neighbors. With our imagination as well as our eyes, that is to say like artists, we must see not just their faces but the life behind and within their faces. Here it is love that is the frame we see them in.

– Frederick Buechner, Whistling in the Dark

Given the obstacles I listed in an earlier post, why would I vote in favor of the provisional rite of same-sex blessing (SSU)? My response will mostly come under three headings:

• Testimony of brothers and sisters within the church.

• Commitment to the pursuit of holiness.

• Engagement with the Bible as the Word of God

Two caveats at the outset:

1. I have no illusions that what I am offering is novel, thorough, or in any sense a ‘game-changer’.

2. That I have come to a certain conclusion on the topic does not mean that I think it is the only legitimate, respectable, or faithful conclusion.

So, why reconsider?

Testimony of brothers and sisters in Christ

It is a common charge that this is just a matter of the church accommodating the surrounding culture. Though I have been critical of my church’s apparent cultural captivity (and never mind that I think conservative Christians are often captive to culture as well), I don’t think it is always and only that.

What has provoked me to take another look and ultimately change my mind has not been what is going on outside the church. Rather it has largely been the testimony of brothers and sisters within the church.

That testimony is of two kinds. One is ‘negative’ and the other ‘positive’.

Negative Testimony and Collateral Damage

Over the years several Christians have ‘come out’ to me, or, as it has always felt, 'let me in' on their life. I have heard many stories of desperate attempts to change through prayer, determined willpower, various ‘healing ministries’, etc. All to no avail.

The testimony I have heard and the fact that leaders of ‘ex-gay’ movements frequently end up denying the efficacy of the ‘reparative’ healing therapies they have advocated (see here, here, and most recently, here,) calls into question the significance some conservatives place on such movements and the reliability of examples of change. I suspect the emphasis placed on such healing ministries is actually not as much about evidence of real change as it is about the need for some – mainly heterosexuals – to believe real change is possible for their own comfort in maintaining the way they understand things. I find much more credible the testimony of brothers and sisters like those I mentioned in the last post who have chosen the hard discipline of celibacy. Their testimonies must not be denied. But, I wonder, given the preponderence of other testimony, if the call to celibacy and the denial of all romance is adequate or necessarily the only faithful option for everyone.

I have also heard many testimonies of gay and lesbian brothers and sisters who have tried heterosexual marriage. The result is rarely happy. Most end in divorce. I know fairly well the story of one such marriage that did not end in divorce. The couple was married in the days before coming out was an option, especially in conservative Christian circles. She did not learn he was gay until some time after they married. In spite of years of infidelity on his part, they stayed together, raised a family, and remained married until his death. In many ways theirs is a testimony of admirable sacrificial commitment that included more than a little grace. But, I also know enough about the story to know the emotional toll it took not just on the couple but on their children. And I know she now has serious reservations about the wisdom of entering into such a marriage. She does not recommend it. And her experience has made her considerably less conservative when it comes to questions of sexuality.

Then there are stories of physical and verbal bullying that gays and lesbians experience frequently. Martin Smith, the former superior of the Society of St. John the Evangelist, is someone whose maturity in the faith I respect. He led a retreat at St. Barnabas a few years ago. Here is his testimony about the threat of abuse: Matters of Life and Death. I do not know anything about the faith of Joel Burns, but the stories he shares, including his own are too common. At the very least, Christians need to ask if the way they talk about those who experience same-sex attraction contributes to this. Silence, let alone the refusal to speak against such bullying, is not an option for Christians who desire to follow the example of Jesus. Stories like this are not encouraging.

And there is the testimony of Christian parents of gay and lesbian children. Some parents reject their children when they come out. I know others who have loved their children even as they have been clear about their disapproval of their behavior. For most, having a child come out has provoked a rethinking of their prior convictions. It is telling that nothing seems to change people’s minds like having a gay son or a lesbian daughter.

But mostly, I am haunted by the stories like that of Stephen who occasionally attended my congregation, St. Barnabas, in the mid 1980’s while a student a Wheaton College (an Evangelical school in a nearby suburb). Though I did not arrive here until 2000, according to the newspaper clipping in my files, Stephen, who was gay, left the college campus one day and stepped in front of a train. According to witnesses, he assumed a posture of prayer as he waited for the train (where, I wonder, did he hope it would take him?). I do not know if he was consumed with self-loathing, if he despaired of being able to contain what he considered to be sinful desires, was rejected by his family, feared that rejection, or some combination of the above, but the burden seemed unbearable and led him to a drastic and tragic means of resolution. I have spoken with more than one person who knew Stephen and it is clear that his struggle with his sexuality played a part in his suicide.

I know this is not a unique story. Most testimonies I have heard from gay and lesbian brothers and sisters have included deep and abiding anguish. Though not universal, suicidal thoughts or attempts are a common theme. At the very least, Christians must be sensitive to the reality of these stories. I wonder if they are stories of the collateral damage of maintaining the traditional teaching. That teaching has much to commend it. But, I wonder if the shadow of that teaching is that many are consigned to lives of despair and death. Are we calling gays and lesbians to a living sacrifice for the sake of their souls or to a sacrifice of death for the sake of the rest of us? I will come back to sacrifice and self-conrol in a later post (See Reclaiming Self-control). I think it is a concept all Christians need to reclaim in pursuit of holness.

If, as scripture charges, we are to fulfill the law by bearing one another’s burdens (Galatians 6:2), we are obliged to listen carefully and sympathetically to our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters when they plead for a hearing in the church. Many have sought to live into the traditional discipline and have found it to be not a dying to self that leads to life but a dying that leads only to death (see here for another example). If liberals have not done a very good job of explaining how SSU fit into the logic of Christianity, conservatives have not done a very good job of demonstrating how the traditional discipline is really good news for their brothers and sisters who are gay or lesbian. 

When Jesus declared that the Sabbath was made for humans rather than the other way around, I wonder if part of what he was declaring was a rejection of moral calculations that find such collateral damage acceptable. Perhaps we need to “Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’”

This is not so much an argument as a explanation of why I have been willing to rethink the argument. And, again, I concede that this does not necessarily require coming to a more affirming conclusion. For me, though, these testimonies raise questions about the goodness of the traditional discipline expected of gay and lesbian Christians and make me willing to reconsider that discipline.

Next: Positive Testimony

Previous: Obstacles

Are you able to drink the cup that I drink

This Sunday’s gospel (Mark 10:35-45) is a reminder that following Jesus is no picnic. It makes clear that sharing in his baptism and communing with him in the drinking of his cup implicates us in his self-emptying, cross-bearing mission.

That means dying to our own pride and pretensions. It means acknowledging our own infirmities and diseases, transgressions and iniquities (Isaiah 53); and allowing his spirit to work a (sometimes severe) regimen of healing and forgiveness in us.

It means submissive self-mastery over our own desires. It means letting go of our presumed prerogatives to embrace the way of humility and servanthood. It means responding to his call to live a defenseless life of mercy that exposes us to the infirmities, disease, and iniquities of others that we might be his instruments of healing and reconciliation on the earth.

To imagine that we can avoid the way of the cross and go directly to the glory and honor of a place at his right or left is presumptuous. No, as Dietrich Bonhoeffer asserted in Cost of Discipleship, “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.”

To be sure, we are called to die that we might live. But, let’s not forget which comes first.

This passage is also a reminder that drinking the cup of Jesus is a perilous thing that implicates us in a community, commits us to a mission, and places us under judgement. Communion with Jesus and his body, the Church, is not only about affirmation and inclusion. To invite those who have not been initiated into a share in his baptism to drink his cup with all that entails is presumptuous and irresponsible. It is cheap grace. Cheap inclusion. Cheap hospitality.

More from Bonhoeffer on cheap grace vs costly grace:

Cheap Grace

Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession, absolution without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.

Costly Grace

Such grace is costly because it call us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ It is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life. It is costly because it condemns sin, and grace because it justifies the sinner. Above all, it is costly because it cost the life of his Son: "ye were brought with a price," and what has cost God much cannot be cheap for us. Above all it is grace because God did not reckon his Son too dear a price to pay for our life, but delivered him up for us. Costly grace is the Incarnation of God.

Getting Off the Fence – Obstacles

For years I have wrestled with questions about the faithful options for Christians who are romantically and sexually attracted to others of the same sex. It has been a topic of conversation and debate in the church for decades and has consumed the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion for the last ten years. I have long described myself as ‘on the fence’ – open to considering a rethinking of the interpretation of scripture and tradition, but not persuaded by the arguments for doing so. There are people who I respect who have come to differing conclusions. As one of my seminary professors liked to say, "Some of my friends say this, some of my friends say that, and I always agree with my friends." But over the last couple of years I’ve become increasingly uncomfortable with my fence-sitting. Though cautious by nature, I knew I had to risk a more definite position on the subject however complicated, confusing, and contentious.

This all came to a head last summer when, as a deputy to the General Convention of the Episcopal Church, I was called upon to vote for or against a provisional rite of blessing for same-sex unions (SSU). With fear and trembling, I voted yes. In following posts I want to try to explain how I have come to get off the fence on the side that I have.

But first I want to list some of the obstacles that have made that difficult and cause me to remain fairly close to the fence:

1. It is no small thing to adopt a position that is counter to what has been the consistent teaching of the Church and remains the understanding of the vast majority of Christians. Any scriptural argument affirming the bless-ability of Same-sex Unions (SSU) is less than straightforward at best, as even some of its proponents have admitted, e.g., Walter Wink and Luke Timothy Johnson.

2. Most of the arguments – scriptural, theological, or otherwise – for SSU are tendentious and thus convincing only to those who are already convinced or want to be convinced.

3. Most biblical scholars and theologians who I hold in high esteem who have commented on the topic have argued against the bless-ability of SSU, e.g., Raymond Brown, N. T. Wright, Richard B. Hayes, Oliver O’Donovan, Wolfhart Pannenberg.

4. While it is true that one way or another, the topic of same-sex sexuality has been discussed in various contexts in the Episcopal Church for some decades, I have seen little evidence of genuine conversation and precious little deep and sympathetic listening. And much that has passed for conversation has been manipulative.

5. What exactly is our teaching? The argument in favor of SSU in the Episcopal Church has been ad hoc and uneven. It has been ad hoc inasmuch as there are multiple and not altogether compatible attempts at making the case. And it has been uneven inasmuch as the quality of the argument has varied considerably, much of it frankly, quite bad. This makes it hard to know just what the Episcopal Church actually teaches on the subject.

What is that teaching?

Is it the same as John Spong’s (Living in Sin?), rooted in a reductionist, rationalistic rejection of anything like classic Christian doctrine and discipline?

Or maybe it is more like William Countryman in Dirt, Greed, & Sex, who reduces biblical sexual ethics to ancient obsessions with purity and property (simplistic and misleading in my opinion). In that case, do we agree that, “[T]he gospel allows no rule against the following, in and of themselves: masturbation, nonvaginal heterosexual intercourse, bestiality, polygamy, homosexual acts, or erotic art and literature [i.e., pornography]” (p. 243)?

Or is our affirmation ultimately based on modern individualistic, consumerist notions of self-actualization, disdain for limits, and individual rights? One gets the impression that for some in the church any argument that leads to the ‘right’ conclusion is acceptable – because that conclusion seems so obviously right to them that it needs no real defense.

Or are we advocating something more like Eugene Rogers (Sexuality and the Christian Body: Their Way into the Triune God) who approaches the question in terms of what leads to the holiness of disciplined, self-sacrificial love?

It is hopeful that Rogers was one of the authors of ,and his approach was reflected in, 'The Liberal View' (beginning on p. 40) in the document on Same-Sex Relationships in the Life of the Church submitted to the House of Bishops of the Episcopal Church in 2010. If this is closer to our 'official' position, it would be helpful if our leaders publicly articulated it in those terms and, just as importantly, made it clear that we reject the other arguments.

6. The Episcopal Church has done a clumsy job of it. Consecrating Gene Robinson before/without revising the marriage canon was an end-run around the hard work of building a new consensus that such revising was meet and right so to do. However uneven, difficult, and drawn out it seemed, there was a conversation that might have led to more of a consensus if that conversation had not been prematurely cut off.

One does not need to be narrowly conservative to wonder if some inconvenient bits of the Book of Common Prayer and Canons got ignored or finessed. I am convinced that the exercise of more patience and prudence would have avoided much of the turmoil and division we have experienced over the last ten years. As Aquinas would say, how we achieve something is as important to it's being virtuous as what we achieve. And while those who have resisted or pursued schism as a result share the blame, the general dismissiveness by ‘progressives’ toward ‘traditionalists’ has belied their talk of inclusivity. Schism can be provoked as well as pursued.

7. Too often, those arguing for SSU offer no comprehensive sexual ethic that has any continuity with what has heretofore been considered faithful Christian discipline. Indeed, much is dismissive of anything like that discipline or indistinguishable from what one might expect to hear from Oprah or read in the heirs of Dear Abby.

8. Given the Episcopal Church’s seeming inability generally to discern the difference between a gospel imperative and liberal/progressive prejudice it is no wonder many suspect us of merely accommodating one segment of worldly culture. As I have written elsewhere, there is a sort of idolatry in the Episcopal Church that compromises our witness.

9. I do not think the giveness of male and female and their sexual complementarity can be dismissed – as even some advocates of SSU acknowledge, e.g. Jeffrey John.

10. I respect the sacrificial self-discipline of those like Wesley Hill, Chad Thompson, and Eve Tushnet who have embraced celibacy in their determination to live faithfully according the traditional Christian sexual ethic.

11. Our understanding of abstractions like love, holiness, justice, etc. is provisional. So is the interpretation of scripture. This side of the kingdom they will be incompletely understood, let alone lived. Thus, it is in the widest communion possible that interpretations and definitions of Christian faithfulness, however provisional, are best discerned. As an Anglican, I take the Anglican Communion to be the most adequate body for such discernment.

12. Being part of the Anglican Communion– a trans-national Christian body– is a basic reason I am an Episcopalian. The actions and reactions on this issue have done great harm to that communion. This was perhaps the most significant obstacle for me. I have been an advocate for the Anglican Communion Covenant. I would still like to see something like the Covenant adopted – even if that meant that the Episcopal Church might serve some time on probation or something.

So . . .

Given all that, along with the way it complicates my relationship with many friends and some members of my congregation who are persuaded otherwise, why vote in favor of the provisional right of same-sex blessing? That is what I will try to explain beginning with my next post.

Next: Testimony (1)

Indulging Unnatural Passions

Unnatural passions are destructive of holy thoughts, spiritual knowledge, and pure prayer. What does that assertion bring to mind? Or, for that matter, when Paul warns, “Let not sin therefore reign in your mortal bodies, to make you obey their passions” (Romans 6:12) what comes to mind? I suspect that in both cases the first thought for most of us has to do in one way or another with sex.

But, the New Testament and the early church have a more expansive idea of what constitutes sinful passion. In the early church, ‘passions’ was a technical term that refers to the spiritual agitations that well up from within us that lead us from the love, joy, and peace of God and from sharing that love, joy, and peace with one another. And many in the early church believed that things we have come to take for granted were in fact unnatural passions. For example:

The love and accumulation of possessions is unnatural:

Our third struggle is against the demon of avarice, a demon clearly foreign to our nature, who only gains entry into a monk because he is lacking in faith. The other passions, such as anger and desire, seem to be occasioned by the body and in some sense implanted in us at birth. Hence they are conquered only after a long time. The sickness of avarice, on the contrary, can with diligence and attention be cut off more readily, because it enters from outside. If neglected, however, it becomes even harder to get rid of and more destructive than the other passions, for according to the Apostle it is 'the root of all evil' (1Tim. 6:10).

– John Cassion, On the Eight Vices

Anger towards others is unnatural

Anger is by nature designed for waging war with the demons and for struggling with every kind of sinful pleasure. . . But the demons, enticing toward worldly lusts, make us use anger to fight against men, which is against nature, so that the mind, thus stupefied and darkened, should become a traitor to virtues.

– Evagrios, Directions on Spiritual Training 1. To Anatolius: Tests on Active Life (From the Russian Rendition)

The first virtue is detachment, that is, death in relation to every person or thing. This produces the desire for God, and this in turn gives rise to the anger that is in accordance with nature, and that flares up against all the tricks of the enemy [Satan]. Then the fear of God will establish itself within us, and through this fear love will be made manifest.

– St Isaiah the Solitary, On Guarding the Intellect

Gluttony is unnatural

Food was created for nourishment and healing. Those who eat food for purposes other than these two are therefore to be condemned as self-indulgent, because they misuse the gifts God has given us for our use. In all things misuse is a sin.

– Maximos the Confessor, Four Hundred Texts on Love, Third Century

All this is contrary to nature, for the Creator has ordained the same natural way of life for both us and the animals.  . . . The animals remain within the boundaries of nature, not altering in any way what God has ordained; but we, who have been honored with the power of intelligence, have completely abandoned His original ordinance. Do animals demand a luxury diet?

– St Neilos, Ascetic Discourse

Of course, lust ,or unchastity, is also unnatural

Let us look at it in this fashion. Movement occurs in the sexual organs not only of young children who cannot yet distinguish between good and evil, but also of the smallest infants still at their mother's breast. The latter, although quite ignorant of sensual pleasure, nevertheless manifest such natural movements in the flesh. Similarly, the incensive power [the energy created in us to resist evil] exists in infants, as we can see when they are roused against anyone hurting them. I say this not to accuse nature of being the cause of sin - heaven forbid!- but to show that the incensive power and desire, even if implanted in man by the Creator for a good purpose, appear to change through neglect from being natural in the body into something that is unnatural. Movement in the sexual organs was given to us by the Creator for procreation and the continuation of the species, not for unchastity; while incensive power was planted in us for our salvation, so that we could manifest it against wickedness, but not so that we could act like wild beasts towards our fellow men. Even if we make bad use of these passions, nature itself is not therefore sinful, nor should we blame the Creator. A man who gives someone a knife for some necessary and useful purpose is not to blame if that person uses it to commit murder.

– John Cassion, On the Eight Vices

These ‘passions’ are unnatural for several reasons. They are a deviation from the peace for which we are created. They reflect a lack of faith and trust in God’s provision and an ingratitude for what has been provided. They create sort of spiritual static that interferes with our communion with God and one another.

And they are each a surrendering to self-indulgence and a lack of self-control. Indulging in excess beyond what is necessary is unnatural and appears to be a fundamental obstacle to holiness. Thus both the New Testament and the early church insist that self-control is the foundation of holy living, i.e., communion with God.

No virtue makes flesh-bound man so like a spiritual angel as does self-restraint, for it enables those still living on earth to become, as the Apostle says, 'citizens of heaven’ (cf. Phil. 3:20).

– John Cassion, On the Eight Vices

But, being self-indulgent, they do not realize how their soft living constantly breeds new and extravagant desires.

– St Neilos, Ascetic Discourse

He who always concentrates on the inner life becomes restrained, long-suffering, kind and humble. He will also be able to contemplate, theologize and pray. That is what St Paul meant when he said: ‘Walk in the Spirit’(Gal. 5:16).

One ignorant of the spiritual path is not on his guard against impassioned conceptual images, but devotes himself entirely to the flesh. He is either a glutton, or licentious, or full of resentment, anger and rancor. As a result he darkens his intellect, or he practices excessive asceticism and so confuses his mind.

– Maximos the Confessor, Four Hundred Texts on Love, Fourth Century

We live in an affluent, indulgent society. Christians in this society are not much less self-indulgent than our secular neighbors. We show little sign of being less gluttonous, less consumed with the accumulation of money and stuff, or less given to expressions of anger toward others (and one another). We are, in short, out of control and living unnaturally.

I am convinced that this is the root of our spiritual torpor. If we want to experience and live more of the love, joy and peace for which we were created and that God desires for us, we will want to commit ourselves to the cultivation of those classic virtues and disciplines like simplicity and generosity, patience and gentleness, moderation and fasting – as well as chastity. All of these are rooted in a kind of mastery of self that is quite counter-cultural. But, they only seem unnatural because we have indulged for too long in forgetfulness of who we are meant to be and indulged in what is unnatural.