Excerpts from the Presiding Bishop's Address to the Executive Council

Episcopal News Service. June 26, 1992 [92151]

Albuquerque, New Mexico, June 16, 1992

As we begin our time together, in the midst of visions and decisions, I remind myself and all of us that it is God's purpose we are serving, and not our own. God continues to work out the divine purpose in ways that surprise us. As I stand before you this morning, I pray that, grounded in prayer and linked with one another, we will be faithful instruments of that purpose.

My dear friends, we have gathered here in Albuquerque as the Executive Council of the Episcopal Church. That may seem like an obvious statement, but I believe it bears restating. At times of social confusion and dissolution, of outer restlessness and uncertainty, of fear and fragmentation, I believe we are called first to recover our own grounding. These are such times. I have no doubt. So, let me remind us of where we are in all of this. Let us look for a moment at our grounding.

Each and all of us are part of the church described in our Prayer Book catechism as "the community of the New Covenant." We have been brought together to do our work in the governance of our church, not because we are holy, but because the church is holy. Our catechism tells us that the church is holy "because the Holy Spirit dwells in it, consecrates its members, and guides them to do God's work." For that reason we gather here. We -- struggling pilgrims, frail and too often irresolute, sometimes overwhelmed with the pain of the world and burdened by its seemingly limitless problems -- God is using us. We are here to do our part in carrying out the mission of the church, which we have been taught is to "restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ."

Why are we here?

So, we come together, and we remember who we are, and whose we are, and what we are about. We are not here primarily as social activists -- though we may each play that role, at some time or another. We are not here as political scientists or as sociologists, though we may have those skills or be informed by them. We are here to pursue our mission, as we, in the words of the catechism, proclaim the Gospel, promote justice, peace and love.

We are here together not because we have common interests -- though we do. We are not here because we all agree on some program or activity, and we don't -- at least not all of the time. We are here as ministers of the church, through our baptism, and to represent other ministers of the church. We are here as members of the "blessed company of all faithful people."

I want to share with you a recent article in the New York Times that said to me how very urgent is the need for us, the church, to recover our sense of what it means to be the church. Under the headline "Protestant Baby Boomers Not Returning to Church," I found a frightening measure of societal health. It perhaps also gave some indication of how we have failed as a church to live in ways that clearly demonstrate what it is to be the church. We have heard from the demographers that a so-called "lost generation" of baby boomers left the mainline churches in the 1970s and 1980s. In a story reporting a study of just why they are not coming back, one sentence jumped out at me: "It's just that the church doesn't do anything for them."

The study showed that most of those persons surveyed believe Jesus is the Son of God, that there is a life hereafter and that the Bible was divinely inspired. Even so, they are not part of the church because it "doesn't do anything for them."

How have we come to this? How have we so devolved from "take up your cross and follow me" to a attitude that the church exists to "do something" for those who name themselves as Christians? We have a lot of educating to do about what it means to be a Christian. We have treasures and joys to share. We have work to do, and we need all of God's children to do it. That is what evangelism is all about. If we could be the church, and show what it means to be the church, and challenge and invite others to join us, those baby boomers would be breaking down the doors to get some of what we have and yearn to share.

My dear friends, in no area of our life are we more challenged to be the church than in the eradication of racism. I believe that in order to confront the sin of racism as God would have us do, we must ground ourselves in what it means to be the church. That is the way of faithfulness. God gave us this holy church and promised to be with it. Our actions need to be informed by our knowledge that we are in God and of God. There is no question that we must work on racism and we must do this as the church. Being the church will not only inform our task but will also give us the strength for it.

Grim days in urban America

We have been led by God's spirit for some time to put the eradication of racism at the top of our agenda. If we hadn't known this before the Arizona legislature failed to declare a paid Martin Luther King state holiday in 1990 and all hell broke loose, we certainly knew it then. We committed ourselves to an intense effort against racism in Phoenix, and the General Convention set our course. It did not take the fires of Los Angeles to illuminate this for us. Those grim days in urban areas of our nation only affirmed that, whatever our efforts, they are desperately needed. They showed us that the task is great, and the time is now, as tensions went from simmer to boil.

As most of you know, I went to Los Angeles in the days immediately following the outbreak of violence to stand in solidarity with the people there on behalf of the whole church. The time meant a great deal to me though it was not an easy time. It was extraordinarily painful to talk with people who had lost all they had, who were afraid, perhaps whose homes were intact but whose souls were deeply wounded. There were deep wounds to all races and pain enough for everyone.

I also saw how we, the church at our best, can begin to rise to the occasion. I saw grief and horror transformed by human caring and compassion. It was another time in my life when I have been called to reflect that out of every tragedy comes an opportunity for revisioning, for transformation. That is the lesson of the Cross.

I am returning to California this weekend to participate in the consecration of a bishop in San Diego and to Los Angeles, and on Sunday, June 21, I will go to Compton, a community that is 98-percent black and that has suffered great devastation and deep wounding. It is very clear to me that the church must make a continuing witness of our solidarity with those who struggle to rebuild, to heal the wounds and to be instruments of transformation.

Frightening dynamics

I said earlier that we might be informed by political scientists, and I want to share with you a right-to-the-point and devastating analysis by Andrew Hacker, of the political science faculty at Queens College. His latest book I would recommend to all of you. It is called Two Nations: Black and White, Separate, Hostile, Unequal. In what I would call a dispassionate and analytical fashion, he describes the racial climate of this country. He goes beyond depressing statistics to the frightening dynamics that make it possible for people of all races to fear, and then hate, one another. Though he is specifically addressing racial conflict between blacks and whites, the dynamics he describes are present between other racial groups as well.

In defining racism, Dr. Hacker says the following: "It will be proposed here that all white Americans, regardless of their political persuasions, are well aware of how black people have suffered due to inequities imposed upon them by white America. As has been emphasized, whites differ in how they handle that knowledge. Yet white people who disavow responsibility deny an everyday reality: that to be black is to be consigned to the margins of American life. It is because of this that no white American, including those who insist that opportunities exist for persons of every race, would change places with even the most successful black American. All white Americans realize that their skin comprises an inestimable asset. It opens doors and facilitates freedom of movement. It serves as a shield from insult and harassment. Indeed, having been born white can be taken as a sign: your preferment is both ordained and deserved. Its value persists not because a white appearance automatically brings success and status, since there are no such guarantees. What it does ensure is that you will not be regarded as black, a security which is worth so much that no one who has it has ever given it away."

'I know sin when I see it'

My dear friends, in response to this all I can say is that I know sin when I see it. This is sin. Let us not shrink from naming it for what it is. This is deep sin that was breed in greed and leads on to violence, to the death of hope, of dreams, and to tragic waste of human potential.

We cannot set ourselves apart from this. It does no good to say that you or I or our neighbor is "not personally involved." How can we not be involved when we are part of a society -- and let me say it -- a privileged and empowered part of a society that tolerates the existence of a permanent underclass in our midst? We are involved.

How can we say we are not involved when that same society of which we are a part not only allows but facilitates the holding on to privilege and abuse of power by white people at a bitter cost to everyone else? We are involved.

How can we say we are not involved when within the structures of our own church we find subtle and not so subtle indications of the racism that infests our own society? Our racism audit gave us a way to begin working on that, and I pray God we have the strength and the humility to confront our own sin.

Surely, surely as people saved by the redeeming love of Jesus we know not only what sin is, we know what repentance is. We know what it is to fall to our knees, to ask for forgiveness and for healing. As we look to be agents of change, of transformation we must each begin in our own heart.

A very gifted black writer spoke to this in 1961. James Baldwin asked us to reflect on the cost of change when he wrote the following words:

"Any real change implies the break-up of the world as one has always known it, the loss of all that gave one identity, the end of safety. And at such a moment, unable to see and not daring to imagine what the future will bring forth, one clings to what one knows, or thought one knew; to what one possessed or dreamed that one possessed. Yet it is only when one is able, without bitterness or self-pity, to surrender a dream one has long cherished, or a privilege one has long possessed, that one is set free -- that one has set oneself free -- for higher dreams, for greater privileges."

Battle against racism

Not one of us sitting here underestimates the challenges before us. Many initiatives are underway, and you will be hearing more about them later in this meeting. As we work, we must keep in mind a holistic vision of our battle against racism because it is not an isolated issue. It is tightly bound up with other social, economic and environmental issues. If, for example, the Environmental Stewardship Team, appointed after General Convention, does not see that it has a role to play in addressing racial issues, then we will be a divided church. If our outreach in this Decade of Evangelism is disconnected from our efforts against racism, we are losing the moment.

All of the churches are working on initiatives against racism, and we have agreed that we must work more ecumenically. Groups within our church need to cooperate as well. I applaud the Episcopal Urban Caucus for their seven-point program and am grateful to the Union of Black Episcopalians for their prodding and keeping the issue before us. I welcome that challenge and encourage other groups to challenge and sensitize us to their concerns.

In your small groups I am going to ask that you look at General Convention Resolution B-051S as a way of talking about the various aspects of racism and our response as a church and as the Executive Council.

Derek Bok, the former president of Harvard University, has written persuasively about the need for political leaders to define and reinforce the ideologies that influence our priorities and our behavior. He says that the prevailing ideology has a pessimistic view of humanity as self-interested creatures who put private material rewards first, thus the emphasis on market economy to, as he says, "harness our natural avarice for constructive social ends." Dr. Bok goes on to say: "In the last analysis, no system can rely so heavily on personal gain and private ambition and somehow have it all turn out for the good. No laws, no police, no regulations, no invisible hand will ever manage to keep all of these self-interested motives completely in check or mobilize them to meet all of the needs that must be met in our society. That is why, in my view," he continues," any viable ideology that we choose for the future must give a prominent place to strengthening those aspects of human nature that are most positive, more generous, more other-regarding, more civic minded than is the pursuit of private gain."

In it for the long haul

I couldn't agree more with Dr. Bok. And I believe the church has a major role to play in this and we are in it for the long haul. There is no quick fix or simple solution to problems that have plagued humankind since the fall. There are just a lot of small, difficult steps over a hilly and winding path. We can't make the journey all at once. We have to be accountable every day. By "we" I mean each and all of us, corporately and as individuals before our maker. We have to keep asking the deep questions and being the church every day. We have to keep asking what we can do -- in our homes, our communities, our churches and everywhere we find ourselves. We have to keep asking what we can do, and praying for the strength to do it. The task is enormous -- but the power of God is truly unlimited.

I want to share with you that I spent an afternoon earlier this month with a wonderful group of young men and women who are part of our Advocacy, Witness and Justice department at the Episcopal Church Center. These dedicated young people, mostly persons of color, bear no resemblance to the baby boomers I spoke of earlier who don't bother with the church because it doesn't do anything for them. They haven't yet lost hope in the church. However, during our time together, they challenged me and all of us to our seriousness about dealing with racism.

One of the young women, Rose Brunell, shared with me a little essay written by her eight-year-old daughter, Chantelle. It was called "Marvelous Me." I want to read just a part of it.

"My name is Chantelle Brunell. I will be 9-years-old on June 24. I have a wonderful family. I help my mother get ready for work. My baby brother is learning how to walk early because I am helping him. I know that I am a special person. I am special because I always try to help people. Day by day I am getting better in reading and math. That makes me proud. I care about all of the people of the world and wish that I could do more to help the homeless people."

Chantelle is a special person. She is a child of God who feels good about herself and is able to write an essay called "Marvelous Me." It makes you stop and wonder in the context of what we know about racism. It makes you stop and wonder how she will survive and flourish when she gets the message from society that she would be better if only she were white.

God bless this child. God bless her and help her and help all of us as your church to bring in the day when the Chantelles of this world grow up continuing to feel proud of who they are and what they have to offer to our life together. This we ask in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord.