In my six years in the Diocese of Maryland, I have noted the distinct pride Marylanders take in their belief that our state is "America in miniature." There is something in this. And it could plausibly follow that our diocese is "the Episcopal Church in miniature." I believe that there is something in this too, and hence, after watching our diocese at work, I find myself increasingly doubting that we can remain together as a single church and adequately carry out our mission.

For several years, our diocesan conventions consisted largely of rancorous attempts to adopt theological positions via resolution by bare majority vote on the floor of convention. With the retirement of our last diocesan bishop in 1993, such parliamentary attempts to stuff theologically rectitudinous and/or adventurously progressive positions down unwilling gullets have been suspended while a desire for comity and healing has reigned.

While I hope the spirit of our last two diocesan conventions will continue, I do not believe it will. With the consecration of our new diocesan [TLC, Nov. 12], I expect the various groups will go right back to clawing for institutional approval of their conflicting agendas. I believe this will continue to be the pattern nationally.

Given the situation, I think it is appropriate to discuss the possibility of dividing the Episcopal Church into two separate churches. Such a suggestion is not because of ill will toward anyone, nor is it a result of a desire to discontinue dialogue. It is simply the result of my strong belief that, at some point, differences matter and that the mission of the church is being damaged by two fundamentally different and opposed understandings of how the church's common life ought to be ordered.

While I recognize that pointing out the differences between traditionalists and progressives has been rather a blood sport of late, it is, in this context, important to review the differences in order to show their irreconcilability. The Very Rev. Philip Turner, dean of Berkeley Divinity School, has written elsewhere that a major dividing line between Christians is the relative order in which each places what Dean Turner calls "undertakings" and "promises."

As I understand him, the institutions, for instance, of marriage or the church would come under his rubric "undertakings," while an individual marriage or an individual's Christian commitment would constitute specific "promises."

To traditionalists, undertakings precede promises. They see marriage, for instance, as a defined institution into which a couple enters and to the expectations of which any married couple ought to conform. To modernists, promises precede undertakings. They view marriage as that through which blessings are bestowed on a relationship defined and developed by the individual couple.

Such a distinction clearly has a bearing on such things as homosexual unions. Progressives will have no problem with homosexual couples seeking the church's blessing on a relationship defined by them. Traditionalists cannot presume to extend blessings to relationships that do not fit the God-given definition of marriage.

There are additional differences, of course. Modernist reformers generally hold that one's sexual orientation is intimately tied to one's basic ontological understanding. A homosexual who marries a member of the opposite sex is believed to be denying who he is in a fundamental way. Traditionalists seem to see sexuality as less defining. I, for instance, do not see myself as a heterosexual so much as a married man. The allowable sphere of my sexual activity is defined by who I am married to, rather than who I am attracted to. And this is true regardless of whether I am married or not. God expects chastity of all with the clear implication that denial of sexual union is not a denial of identity.

Another difference lies in the area of progress. The reformers tend to believe that the wheels of progress will inevitably turn in a particular direction, principally that of general human betterment. I sense in the traditionalist camp a dissatisfaction with progress as it tends to judge ideas based on their age rather than their merits (the same goes, of course for nostalgia, the flip side of progress).

Outside the rarified climes of scientific inquiry, technological innovation and dialectic discourse within certain well-defined traditions (Thomism, Kantian deontology, for instance), I can see little reason to accept the notion of progress, though I suppose I'll wait in vain for the day progress is itself recognized as being out of date.

My purpose is not to defend one view or another, but to point out that the differences between the two groups do not appear to me to be resolvable. I don't see a middle ground here. Traditionalists are not going to bless gay sex, period. Progressives do not give the appearance of ever being satisfied not doing so. Yet the church must do one or the other. Either one side or the other must abandon its fundamental holdings.

In our institutional life, either undertakings will precede promises or the other way around. Either sexual proclivities are defining or they are not. Either progress is an inevitable part of all human endeavor or it is not.

These concepts can exist side by side in a pluralistic culture but cannot occupy the same doctrinal and disciplinary space. Liturgical laissez-faire is really not plausible. Liturgy as, literally, "work of the people," implies work of all the people, not just those participating in this or that particular rite. The differences between the two groups are sufficiently basic, well thought out, and deeply held, that mutual respect for these differences seems to me to demand that we develop two separate institutions within which to live out our Lord's call in different ways.

The thought does not please me and it does not sit well. I can think of myriad objections, yet I find them less and less convincing. The church is one. Her children are joined together in a covenant of mutual love for Jesus Christ and for one another and by membership in the church universal and triumphant. In this, we Episcopalians are joined to all Christians everywhere. Yet we are not joined institutionally to all Christians everywhere. We are in dialogue with other churches and could remain in dialogue with one another regardless of our institutional attachment, or lack thereof.

A split does not have to be rancorous. It does not have to be the casting out of undesirables or the preservation of the true church against the depredations of a false one. We don't have to hate each other to leave each other institutionally. Indeed, we might love one another better if we don't have a single institution to fight over. If we really respect difference, we ought to be able to go our separate ways in peace and fellowship in Christ, who is still the one head of all the divided church.

We have a duty to bring the light of Christ to a darkened world, to call others to join us in his service. We will never be effective if we cannot agree on who we are and what we are about. We cannot shine his light if we are snarling at one another. Therein, to me, lies the major question: Can we remain divided and yet function as an institution, or will the erosion of membership, comity and influence continue to damage our ability to serve our Lord? I think it will. I hope I am wrong. q

Daniel W. Muth is a resident of Prince Frederick, Md. and a member of Christ Church, Port Republic.