Bishops and Deputies Try to Explain General Convention to the Folks Back Home
Episcopal News Service. October 4, 1991 [91196]
When the 1,100 deputies and bishops packed their bags at the end of last summer's General Convention and returned home, they faced a task almost as awesome as the 10 days of deliberations -- trying to tell the folks back home what happened and why.
Any glance at the written reports in diocesan publications, for example, reveals almost universal agreement on at least one perception -- the Episcopal Church is sharply divided on a number of issues, especially ones dealing with sexuality.
A failure to pass a canon law on sexual relations outside of marriage confused and angered many participants in the Phoenix meeting and led to some dire predictions about the future of the church.
Bishop Alden Hathaway of Pittsburgh wrote in his diocesan newspaper that the General Convention didn't resolve the issue "but rather now it is clearly described. It is the root issue that complicates so much of our common life and even threatens to divide us. At best, it seems, we are in for a paralyzing standoff at the heart of our life; at worst, the breakup of the Episcopal Church as we know it."
For some, that breakup has already begun, according to Temperance Parker, a deputy from South Carolina. She said that the General Convention "made it clear to me that there are two distinctly different Episcopal Churches, separated by an ever-widening theological gulf." By its denial of scriptural authority and church tradition, the Episcopal Church has lost its center, and for her, the future of the church "hangs in the balance." She was among 258 deputies and alternates who signed a Statement of Conscience "dissociating ourselves from any action of our church which encourages a departure from the church's received teaching on human sexuality."
Bishop David Ball of Albany, like many of his colleagues, is worried that the "we are adrift, we are wandering, we have strayed from the foundation, from our roots." Ball is convinced the church is facing a "crisis of belief" and that an alternative worldview is contending for the heart and soul of the church.
In a letter to his diocese, Bishop Maurice Benitez of Texas said that he had never experienced "more expressions of anger, frustration, and division" at any of the seven General Conventions he has attended. The bishop contended that the House of Bishops "has taken a sharp turn to the left, in a more liberal direction," as evidenced by the need for executive sessions to search "for a better way of relating one to another."
Many expressed a sense of relief that things were not worse, that the church showed no signs of self-destructing over the issue of sexuality.
"This convention demonstrated that there is still a middle ground to be occupied by our church," Bishop Coadjutor Hays Rockwell of Missouri said in a newspaper interview. "It looked for a while as though the zealots were having their way with us, but we rejected the blandishments of the radicals on both flanks. We have boldly occupied the middle ground that had been abandoned by so many -- and this gives me heart."
The Rev. Stephan Klingelhofer, a deputy from Western Michigan, said that some were disappointed over the actions of the convention and "saw the absence of clarity as a sign of weakness." Yet he said that he believes that the church is "healthier than I could have imagined, filled with such a breadth of gifted, wise, and caring disciples of the Lord -- humble enough to know that we cannot conclusively read or speak the mind of God on all mysteries of life, but brave enough to seek faithfully and prayerfully God's guidance as we struggle."
Bishop Mark Dyer of Bethlehem said that the convention gave a pastoral response to a challenge of history, and did so in "a thoroughly Anglican way. We looked deep within our tradition to find a clearly received principle that we affirmed. Then we acknowledged the historical challenge to this principle, i.e., that the way some followers of Jesus live constitutes a legitimate challenge to the traditional teaching. Finally, we formulated a pastoral response."
Bishop Herbert Thompson of Southern Ohio pointed out that the response was not adequate for some, that many were disappointed that the church did not speak "with a definitive response." Yet he counted himself among those who were "encouraged that a strong center position held." By reaching a compromise at the General Convention, "we may have prevented a rupture of the church and the alienation of many people at either end of the spectrum." He said that he hopes the diocese will take seriously the General Convention mandate to study sexuality issues before the Indianapolis General Convention in 1994.
Dr. Germaine Hoston, a deputy from Maryland, said that the convention "took the hard way out -- it chose to continue to live with tension. The convention said that we have the courage to face one another, the courage to realize that there aren't any easy answers. It pushed our leaders to try to come up with answers."
That may be difficult because of the design of the convention itself. Bishop John MacNaughton pointed out that the General Convention "is not a theological symposium designed to exchange ideas and to seek the truth." Instead, it is a legislative body much like the U.S. Congress, constituted "to seek consensus and often compromise on which the whole church may act." As such, it is "subject to the pressure of special interest groups and lobbies whose influence far exceeds their membership numbers in the church." Admitting that it "may seem to some to be a funny way to run a church," MacNaughton said that he hasn't seen a better alternative.
The search for an alternate way to do business, however, was very much on the minds of many who endured the impossible work load in Phoenix.
Bishop Edward Salmon of South Carolina, for example, wrote in the diocesan newspaper that "we have a system which no longer serves the church and which speaks of another time and identity." One obvious result is that it acts "as if we were an established church with the responsibility of telling the whole world what to do" when, in reality, very few beyond the church know or care. "Our inability to put our own house in order is not a strong basis from which to witness to others."
Salmon's neighboring colleague in Georgia, Bishop Harry Shipps, agreed that the General Convention "has become all too cumbersome and meets too infrequently and for too long." He would prefer smaller, shorter, annual meetings.
"We have grown some since the first General Convention was held in 1789," Shipps pointed out, when the convention "was comprised of only 2 bishops, 20 priests, and 16 laypersons. We cannot continue with an 18th-century structure."
"As if a 10-day gathering every three years can speak the definitive word on issues which frustrate the best efforts of our own members, of Christians in other churches, indeed, all those of good will who seek to manage the affairs of government, the economy, and common life," wrote an exasperated Bishop Arthur Walmsley in his diocesan newspaper. He said that he was convinced that "our present decision-making process is absurd" and has no chance to "discern the mind of Christ on complex issues."
Bishop Donald Hart of Hawaii told his diocese, "The very way we go about our business is self-defeating and ensuring that we will not function at some levels." He echoed the observation of many participants in urging that the General Convention find some way to limit the number of topics and issues that are considered. "How we do business translates quickly into how we treat one another," and for Hart, that is "a Gospel issue."
Many participants credited the morning Bible sharing and Eucharist with keeping the tone of debate civil and promoting tolerance and even trust.
First-time deputy Kath Burn from Ohio said that "many people came to realize that the real business of the convention was done at these tables, not during the debate on resolutions. The real business was done as the word was opened and the bread broken in each small diverse community. As different as we are, we can all be fed at one table by a Savior who sees us as we are, with all our imperfections."
"Those times of personal dialogue are not the subject of newspaper headlines, but they set the tone for our speaking the truth in love, with patience, forbearing one another, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace," said the Rev. Randolph Dales, a deputy from New Hampshire.
Dales came away from General Convention "proud of our church's honesty and compassion, our refusal to give simple answers to complex issues, but rather committed to the idea, in the words of the late Bishop Stephen Bayne, that 'our unity lies not in our thinking
"Those times of personal dialogue are not the subject of newspaper headlines, but they set the tone for our speaking the truth in love, with patience, forbearing one another, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace," said the Rev. Randolph Dales, a deputy from New Hampshire.
Dales came away from General Convention "proud of our church's honesty and compassion, our refusal to give simple answers to complex issues, but rather committed to the idea, in the words of the late Bishop Stephen Bayne, that 'our unity lies not in our thinking alike but in our acting together.'"
Bishop John Howe of Central Florida said that he hopes the church can maintain that spirit even while being painfully divided on some of the issues. "As we continue to talk, study, and sometimes argue with each other, may it please God that we do so without personal attack, without invidiousness, with love, care, and respect for one another."
"I am not in the Episcopal Church because it is perfect. God called me to it. No matter what stupid thing it does, I'm not leaving it," Howe said.