The vicar of Putney has written for today's Guardian, accusing "Fissiparous evangelical Christians" of "being reunited by hatred"...
"Apparently, it's agreed by all that the current row over gay bishops is threatening to shatter the Anglican Communion."
Don’t you just like it when the Church follows the obsessions of the world? Sex, sex, sex. It is meant to be preaching the Good News, feeding the poor, housing the homeless, welcoming strangers, etc, etc. If vicars devoted half the time to writing articles for national newspapers on those pursuits that they devote to the issue of gay sex, there may indeed be hope for the Church.
"I think almost the opposite is going on."
There, he’s spotted it - the true raison d’etre of the Church of England. It was built upon conflict of opinion and compromise, and the fact that the Vicar believes the opposite of the ‘all’ he speaks of above, is indicative of the via media the church has always faithfully pursued.
"Sure, there's a crisis at the top."
Observant chap. The ‘top’ is supposed to lead, but it is not true that ‘conservative Anglicans’ yearn for a leader of the Anglican Communion with the convictions and spiritual authority of the Pope. This, Vicar, is why we had a Reformation. To be ‘first among equals’ guards against claims to infallibility.
"And the American church may yet be expelled for its theological liberalism."
Since when has ‘theological liberalism’ been a sin? Who defines it? Half the Church of England has always been theologically liberal; it balances the theologically fundamental. A church of either extreme is not a whole church.
"But alongside all this - indeed precisely because of it - there's emerging a new style of confident and unified global Anglicanism brought together by a shared antipathy to liberal values and gay sex. Not only has the present row raised the profile of the communion, it's also brought about an unholy togetherness among conservatives."
What a load of absolute tosh. ‘Confident and unified global Anglicanism’ contains so many oxymorons, His Grace cannot be bothered to unravel them. Anglicanism is not unified, and neither is it confident. The ‘common enemy’ does not exist for it in the same way that the Soviet Union or the Axis of Evil is used to unify the United States of America. The Church no longer believes in Satan – he has been relegated to the level of Santa Claus and the tooth fairy - and ‘liberal values’ and ‘gay sex’ will never render a confident and unified church. Liberal values and sexual sin reside in us all. Christians are at their worst when they judge the sins of others, not least because their own hypocrisies invariably lie concealed. And what is ‘unholy’ about the ‘togetherness’ of conservatives? In that togetherness is the very koinonia demanded by the Lord, and if the Vicar bothered to examine the Holiness Code demanded by God throughout the Old Testament, he might just discover that in that in the pursuit of that holiness lies a remnant of the true church.
"Evangelical Christians are always falling out with each other, splitting to form new churches and splitting again - all sides denouncing the others as having betrayed the true gospel. Monty Python got it spot-on: it's the People's Front of Judea versus the Judean People's Front."
Thus it ever was. But why deride only the Evangelicals? Liberal Christians are also always falling out with each other. As each former sin is legitimated, there is invariably a liberal group that finds it a liberation too far. The Vicar doubtless uses his own pulpit to persuade others of the rightness of his own views, and thereby himself undermines the very unity of the Church that his Lord exhorts him to seek.
"The only thing that can reunite the factions is something they all hate more than they hate each other. The idea of a gay bishop in faraway New Hampshire is an enormously useful tool of unity for otherwise fractious conservatives. They purchase their togetherness with the suffering of gay Christians, especially in places such as Nigeria, where the church is egging on a violent and aggressive homophobia. It's textbook scapegoating."
It is also profoundly anti-Christian. The Vicar might reflect on the fact that in the New Testament era the Church was itself a persecuted group, and many Christians continue to be persecuted in parts of the world today. Pogroms against Jews, gypsies or homosexuals have stemmed from similar misrepresentations, while the New Testament advocates a generosity of accommodation (1Cor. 13:4-7) and mutual respect (Rom. 14). But the Vicar resorts to the same ‘textbook scapegoating’ of which he accuses the Nigerian church, except that his pogrom is against the Evangelicals. The ‘homophobia’ of the African churches may be repugnant to the Vicar, but he might just find his own ‘Evangelophobia’ to be repugnant to God.
"And once they have raised the threat level, they can begin to settle old scores. Again and again, evangelical bishops are popping up to declare theological martial law, insisting with glee that now is the time to prune liberals from the church."
And this Vicar is ‘popping up’ in The Guardian (there’s a surprise) to settle his own score. Pruning people from the Church is a wholesome and scriptural pursuit, but the Lord always began with those who presumed to judge. Those who advocate ‘theological martial law’ exist on both wings of the church: even liberalism can have a Taliban tendency.
"They know that neither the church nor marriage is under threat by what two Christian men or two Christian women might just happen to do with their bits in the privacy of their bedroom."
This is not entirely true, and the Vicar is not justified in presuming to judge the thoughts and fears of his brethren. For many, the uniqueness and sanctity of marriage is distinctly perceived to be under threat. The widespread moral equivalence of cohabitation, and more recently the introduction of civil partnerships, certainly convey a sense of erosion of the foundational purposes and principles of marriage. It is a God-given institution, which the state should support. This, presumably, is why David Cameron is pledged to reintroduce tax breaks for married couples. Politicians as well as theologians perceive marriage to be under siege.
"No, this is all about church politics."
Again, thus it ever was. The Church of England is a state church, and the Anglican Communion has a supreme governor who is a head of state. A church that is not involved in politics is not a church that is engaged with the world, and that demands that the church be political.
"For hard-core evangelicals, this manufactured crisis is a golden opportunity to create new rules to oust the progressive voice from the church, perhaps even to crown Archbishop Peter Akinola as, de facto, the new Anglican pope. Thus evangelicals have a vested interest in keeping an atmosphere of crisis going as long as possible. The best way to mount a coup is to get everybody panicky and confused - and then emerge as a strong leader, the only one able to impose order."
Is it any wonder that members of the Church of England are converting to Roman Catholicism, or even leaving the church altogether? When a church has a strong leader, there is vision; when a church has vision, there is enthusiasm; when there is enthusiasm, there is unity of purpose and growth. Some may say that the Church of England needs a Margaret Thatcher; it is a certain fact that too many more John Majors will destroy hope, and leave a demoralised and decimated fellowship. This ‘crisis’ is not manufactured; it is a direct result of the purposeful successive appointments of archbishops who try to please everybody by avoiding anything that might offend. The cross is meant to cause offence; when it begins to offend Christians, it is justifiable to ask whether they understand the meaning of the faith they profess.
"Bishops and archbishops have always been keen to insist that Anglicanism doesn't end at Dover. The former archbishop, George Carey, may have been sniggered at in England, but on trips abroad crowds of cheering Anglicans would greet him at the airport. Little wonder the higher-ups have always loved the communion, the way the Queen loves the Commonwealth. It's no coincidence: for the communion is little more than the Commonwealth at prayer, the spiritual by-product of British imperialism."
And the England that gave birth to the British Empire bequeathed to the world a marvellous legacy. The assertion of power within the Church of England has held the communion together for five centuries, but it is a serious question whether a church built on the basis of episcopal authority and provincial autonomy can continue.
"There are good theological reasons for the church to see itself as global, such as the promotion of the millennium development goals. And Rowan Williams may be right in arguing that membership of a 78-million-strong organisation gives Christians in places such as Rwanda a voice they would otherwise not have. But there are bad reasons too. For the communion allows bishops of crisis-stricken dioceses to get on a plane and reinvent themselves as players on the world stage. Many parishes see less and less of their bishops as they clock up the air miles."
That is the reality of spiritual promotion or ecclesiastical authority. Does the Vicar think that the constituents of Sedgefield get to see their MP when they wish? No, he is pursuing a greater goal, for the good of the whole. The important thing is that the Prime Minister doubtless cares for his constituents vicariously, and you, Vicar, also act vicariously, for that is your title. Your bishop does not have to be in your parish any more than Jesus has to be, for you are in his place; his representative, his ambassador. It is your job to behave as he would, to be light in the world, to serve with humility and grace.
"In the traditional Church of England, the parish is the unit that matters to most worshippers. And at the level of the parish, the crisis in global Anglicanism is irrelevant. While bishops and archbishops squabble and plot, the local church gets on with saying its prayers and caring for the needy. These faithful are now being badly let down by their leadership."
No, Vicar, the crisis is not irrelevant, or you would not have seen fit to pen this article. It is of immense concern, since a body without a head will simply behave like the proverbial chicken. Indeed, while your bishop, your head, has been away, The Guardian has lured you out to play. The function of which part of the body have you fulfilled?
Ultimately, the whole issue may really be a non-issue because the wrong question is being asked. That the modern era is sex-obsessed is not in dispute; we live in a consumer society, and there is little that is marketed without a glance, a wink, a flirt, a breast, or allusions to sexual intercourse, because ‘sex sells’. If one were to judge by the media (which is more frequently a mirror to society than a catalyst for change), the fascination with people’s sex lives is now more important than politics, religion, philosophy or even Mammon. Jesus may have had to address the latter as the dominating idol of his era; his judgement was that one may not serve both God and Mammon (Mt. 6:24). He did not enter into discussion on the fiscal minutiae of cash, credit, bonds, shares, loans or interest; a macro-warning not to be obsessed with Mammon was sufficient. If one were to apply the same principle to the modern idol – let us call it ‘Eros’ – it is doubtful that Jesus would address its sub-divisions (gay, bi, straight, oral, anal, tantric); he would most likely directly challenge society’s obsessive fixation with Eros, and by so doing confront both those who prioritise issues of sexuality and those in the church who presume to judge them.
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