As we face a seeming stalemate in the debate and diatribe over sexuality, church order, and theology, we have an opportunity to do something almost unprecedented in the history of the church - to deal with very serious issues patiently, "forbearing one another in love" (Eph. 4:2), rather than repeat the all-too-frequent pattern of Christians who know they are right hating Christians they know are wrong.

Once again, we have one religion with two interpretations; nay, multiple interpretations. Each side preaches, parades, seeks to persuade, and then pulsates with frustrated anger or wounded righteousness. It's a virtual characteristic of our religion to face such "identity-based conflicts," as described by the Rev. Brian Cox in his recent proposal for mediation of our war [TLC, July 13, 20].

We've been here many times: Patriarch versus pope; catholic against protestant; Anglican against Quaker and Free Church; "twice born" against "once born"; on and on, with each party sincerely seeking to follow Christ, according to its own lights. Our track record shows real skill at the dark stuff - anathemas, burnings, excommunications, all manner of Bible barbs and scripture swords. As a famous Man once said, "By their fruits you shall know them" (Matt. 7:16) and the rest of the world has long since noticed.

Can we do something different this time? Fr. Cox points out "bridge builders" in each party. As a "liberal" on most issues, my allegiance is not to liberalism nor against conservatism, but to the Way of Christ, and I have begun actively to seek out any of more conservative stripe who wish to talk, work, and worship together in spite of our differences. My hope is that as many of us as possible set a new precedent in Christian history - either coexisting charitably in spite of serious differences, or parting amicably, still affirming each other as fellow disciples. We've argued each other to a stalemate. What options do we have? There are two options antithetical to the Spirit, however popular, and two that seem to have the "mind of Christ" in them, however hard.

(or sheer, unadulterated secular politics, which is the non- military form of war).

The search for God's justice often ends in war of some kind, when one side decides to duke it out to the finish. War costs a lot, in loss, ruin and enmity. Followers of the Crucified One might perhaps consider that Jesus chose another way: "Those that take the sword will perish by the sword" (Matt. 26:52). We Christians seem too often more enchanted by righteous warrior rhetoric than Jesus' plain declaration that peacemaking is the characteristic of the children of God.

St. Paul demanded that Christians settle in a non-war like fashion their bitter dispute about meat "contaminated" by being offered to the gods (see 1 Corinthians 8 and Romans 14). Those more "advanced," free from scruple, were to be gentle with those who feared contamination by pagan ritual, rather than trouncing them as benighted fools. Just so, must everyone working to avoid win-lose voting be seen as opposing justice for lesbians and gays? Must pressing for a vote imply one is lost in a "secular" mind set? In any case, there is agony either way - voting or not voting. We are now united in a fellowship of suffering. We might remember the One who is here with us in this agony. What might he be feeling? How does he want us to bless those who are our opponents?

This is the usual state of Christian division - "Well, they (almost) might be real Christians, but ... Let me tell you how wrong they are. 1, 2, 3 ..."

I grew up as a sectarian fundamentalist knowing by heart the 12-15 ways Methodists, Baptists and everybody else was almost certainly headed for hell. What a relief it was for me to find the real Jesus - who chose a zealot and a tax collector, some fishermen and a formerly demon-possessed woman as disciples and ate with peasants and rich alike - as an alternative to this dread departure from the Spirit of his catholicity.

Option 3:

Why not try something the New Testament actually encourages? Some are "of Paul" and some "of Cephas." But Christ cannot be divided.

Is it imaginable that the Anglican church could model something almost unprecedented in history, and hold together with our sharp division of interpretation and practice? Could we have open and out gay-welcoming parishes and "recovering" gay-welcoming parishes and "abstinent" gay-welcoming parishes? Could we do that with all our unhappy divisions, even down to allowing (heaven forfend!) 1928 prayer book parishes? We would have to "forbear" one another in love, as Paul insists. He should know. Look at James sending emissaries after him at every point tidying up his message with their footnotes. Yet, thunderclaps, expostulations, and all, Paul stayed "in communion" with James and the Jerusalem church, and (apparently) they with him.

So, we have a chance to do this almost-new thing in Christian history. Ideally, General Convention could adopt some strong "rules of the road" for discussion and living together that would moderate our passions. If we can't, it may end up requiring the kind of outside mediation Fr. Cox urges. Most importantly, it involves people cultivating the Spirit manifested in Jesus Christ toward his friends and enemies. It can't happen unless there's more real willingness to listen to the people who aren't going to be converted to our viewpoint through "dialogue."

We will have to negotiate some agreement on what the "rock bottom" essentials are for staying together in fellowship. Maybe it's simply the willingness to accept Jesus Christ as God's revelation, and to follow his way to God, even if we can't always agree on how to do that.

The coexistence of sharply differing parties is a hallmark of historic Anglicanism. "Party spirit," on the other hand, is a work of fallen human nature, and opposed to the Spirit of God (Gal. 5:19-20). Each party needs to get on with its call to a world of physical suffering and confused, lost souls, instead of passing judgment on "another's servant" (Rom. 14:4).

And if, in the end, that doesn't work to hold the family together, then what will we do? Something new, I hope - part amicably, with sorrowing love, rather than self-righteous recrimination. Commending each other to God, we could pray for God's grace to work through each other, even if our ways seem alien and strange to each other. We could pray for God to correct each of us in God's own good time as God sees best.

That would be a refreshing new chapter in the struggles of Christ with his people. They would talk about it for centuries to come; and maybe, in their own time of trial, follow our example. o