Salt

Catholic Neocons Undermine Historic Protestantism

The Rev. Andrew Weaver writes about the Conservative Catholic Influence in the Institue for Religion and Democracy, and its growing influence.  They constitute about a third of the board (about the same proportion of Catholics in the country, I think), but have undermined the general ecumenical work between Catholics and protestants.   What is interesting is how anti-Catholic, also, their theology truly is, especially when it comes to capitalism. 

He writes:  While Father Neuhaus and his Catholic cohorts have built and sustained an organization that has consistently labored to generate suspicion and hostility about mainstream Protestant leaders, not a penny has been spent nor staff member assigned to attempt to change anything about the Catholic Church. This conduct constitutes the single greatest breach in ecumenical good will between Roman Catholics and Protestants since Vatican II.

Weaver quotes a former editor of First Things: The America toward which Richard John Neuhaus wishes to lead us -- [is] an America...in which moral and theological absolutists demonize the country's political institutions and make nonnegotiable public demands under the threat of sacralized revolutionary violence, in which citizens flee from the inner obligations of freedom and long to subordinate themselves to ecclesiastical authority, and in which traditionalist Christianity thoroughly dominates the nation's public life (Linker, 2006).

Is Neuhaus aware that American Idol and Project Runway are more important than church these days, and that young people are simply ignoring adults about sex? 

Weaver concludes:  Imagine the outcry from Catholic leaders, a fully justified response, if a highly influential group of Protestants obtained a million dollars a year from left-wing sources to generate a propaganda campaign against the leadership of the Catholic Church over the issues of the ordination of women and divorce. Moreover, this Protestant-directed group constantly sought to undermine Catholic leaders and missions through twisted and demeaning distortions of what they said, while seeking no reforms in their own communions. This is exactly the situation we have at IRD.

Although I generally think Protestant Christianity has rendered "god-talk" to be redundant, and has not called young leaders of great talent, I do believe that there is a deliberate attempt to destroy the  liberal, magnanimous, social justice tradition that is a crucial part of American culture - via Henry Ward Beecher, Walter Rauschenbushc, Henry Fosdick, William Sloane Coffin among others.  Perhaps protestants were right:  Catholics would undermine the American traditions of sympathy, mutual aid and civil rights. 

Drinkin'

So last night I am hanging out with a friend from my undergraduate days.  We also both lived in Chicago afterward.  He was now visiting NYC.    Two of his friends, a married couple who are amateur bikers, are deeply anti-religious in fairly predictable ways - the man was English and the other was American, but I had no concrete sense of her upbringing.  It seemed vaguely culturally Christian.   They were in their 30s. 

Next to me was a Very Hot Episcopalian.  And smart, too - Harvard undergrad, NYU PhD, blonde and cute and witty.  Her parents were prominent fundraisers, who had also done work for big Episcopal organizations.   The conversation turned to religion when it was revealed I'm an episcopalian.

The questions and assertions were standard:  Religion has done far more harm than good [so you think people are not tribal, territorial creatures naturally?]; People shouldn't be motivated by the fear of God [so you don't think fear is rational sometimes?]; People need to update their thinking with science and progressive thinking [well, do you think theologians and lay people weren't aware of the French Revolution, the Steam engine, germs, the revolution of 1848 and the Paris commune?  Secular thinking has been around for ages! Hasn't the church has been engaging it].  It's the fear of death that is the problem [well, isn't that a natural emotion?  Is it really possible for human beings to conceive of their own death?  Not really.  You can't turn your brain off.].   

"Why should I go to church?" my friend asked. 

"Well, perhaps there is no reason to go to church," I said.  "But like any perspective, thinking about God takes practice and attention.  One goes to church for mutual support - and to learn the language of faith.  And this faith is useful and and accurate way of comprehending the world.  It makes our lives better."

Now there was some resistance to this.  My Episcopal friend echoed me during the discussion, saying that it was only because we were in the first world that we could address faith so dismissively.  She did confess that she was a "Christmas and Easter" Christian, but that she did love the Episcopal Church. 

The man would say "Religionists should be more humble!"  Well YES, I would claim.  That is exactly what scripture says.  "Religion should be about moral progress."  Well, of course!  He would assert, I would parry and retort.  I just wish I was a bit wittier. 

Many of the people I'm trying to reach are at completely different places than where the church is.  They don't know the story of Jesus Christ.  They can't even think of a good reason for religion.  Their Sundays are liberated for coffee and bicycle rides. 

They are immersed in their own power, their own ability to shop and choose and make good.  Their ethic is simple and unvarnished:  "Do unto others."  For them, to speak of Christ is supernatural mumbo-jumbo, or an example of emotional abuse.  What will the church offer them?  Or do we simply shake off the dust from our shoes?   

My friend Imara says to one of them, "I know God.  I've met him."  Perhaps that is where we begin.

A bit Quiet

I've got a lot going on.  Although I was called as rector a year ago, I received the contract, signed by the bishop, on Wednesday.   This finalizes my call. 

So today I bought eight rosebushes, two Azaleas, two Rhodos, and two Hydrangias for the front of the rectory.  I'm staying for a while. 

My ambition - have this parish sustainable on pledges alone for a staff of four full-time employees (priest, music director, secretary and sexton) and a few part-time (assistant priest, sexton, receptionist, publicity, education coordinator and seminarian).    This means, of course, at least 150 more families, and doesn't include ringers on scholarship from the choir.

This is in addition to bringing people into the love of Jesus Christ.

Unfortunately, the last two priests did not have the skills to manage the anxieties of the church.  One was depressed, the other less willing to respect people's defenses. 

Over the week-end I went to my college reunion, where I MCd the class dinner.  We heard David Orr, who is one of the premier environmentalists in the country, and a professor at my Alma Mater.  His son, apparently, is an Episcopal priest. 

I'm open to some discussion on my reply to William Witt.  I haven't heard substantive comments, except for the critique that it is only the Catholic Church that can properly interpret scripture.  I have no quarrel with that - I just think who constitutes "catholic" is a bit more open than the Roman magisterium.  What is crucial to Christianity must be comprehensible even by those of other faiths.

Recent Silence

I've been quiet, but busy.  I think "vacation" is more like it.

But what sort of cars should priests drive?

I think that a Good Anglican would get a MINI.  But many priests I know are fond of Saabs and Volvos. 

Finally, between a Subaru WRX STI, a MINI cooper and the Honda Civic EX, I chose the last.   I went with practicality rather than power or sex appeal.  It will prove to be much more reliable than, I suspect, my 1988 Nissan.

Marketing the Church

I was speaking to a woman, a bright, attractive marketing director for a fortune 500 company about the church.  She visited a few times.  We began to talk about what she was looking for in a parish.

She grew up in a rigidly Catholic family, and has a mild interest in Christianity.  But she was at a point where she was considering all other faiths.  It's unlikely she will move far from Jesus, but she recognizes that it is because of the accident of her birth and inculturation.

It seems to me that, although I think of the Episcopal Church as Christian, there is a group of seekers for which ECUSA's competitors are not other mainline protestants or evangelicals.  The people who visit my church are just as likely to choose yoga, buddhism, unitarianism or quakerism.  I'm not sure why they visit, but it might have to do with our reputation as being open and safe for the intellect.  It's a "come as you are" philosophy regarding theological orientation. 

If you come and visit my parish, there is nothing I say that would seem unorthodox in the very least.  I don't, however, spend a lot of time on why other religions are wrong, or if they are wrong.   My sermons stick to the scripture, as is; I do little historical "education" and rarely do I refer to great thinkers.  I use metaphors that are ripped from contemporary culture.  Regardless of my intellectual stance, I preach more like a Barthian who has interpreted Schleiermacher correctly. 

Perhaps when reasserters critique reappraisers, maybe they are aware that a good portion of the people who seek the Episcopal Church do not compare themselves to other Christians.  After all, if you think that Most Christians are just American versions of the Taliban, would you want to be one?  If you think that conservative evangelicals are taking over the military and the government, would you want to be one?   They think of the Catholic church as abusive and corrupt; and the evangelicals as corrupt and militant.  With choices like these, I'm surprise people don't give up on Jesus altogether.  Granted - these are incorrect perceptions.  But they are perceptions.

I still think that I'm in the business of forming Christians.  But the questions guests in my parish are asking aren't the same as the ones conservative evangelicals are.  And perhaps, because they are asking different questions, they need a place that will offer better answers.  And that place would be the Episcopal Church. 

Griswold in Cuba

I confess, I'm a bit irritated that he didn't ask me along.   End the Embargo!!

The Episcopal Church in the United States shares a deep bond with La Iglesia Episcopal de Cuba.  This goes back to 1871, when Bishop Henry Benjamin Whipple of the Diocese of Minnesota in the United States stopped in Havana en route to Haiti. When he returned home Bishop Whipple  persuaded the Episcopal Church to send its first clergy and missionaries to Cuba. This began a relationship that led to the founding of the missionary Diocese of Cuba as part of the U.S. Church. The close friendship of our two Churches has continued for 135 years.  My Church is deeply committed to accompanying the Church of Cuba in our common witness to Jesus.

During my visit here I have been moved greatly by the faithfulness and vibrancy of your Church. Also, I have been saddened to see the suffering caused by the policies of my country's government.  The Episcopal Church in the United States strongly opposes the Blockade against Cuba. In the four decades of its existence, the Blockade has done little except exacerbate the suffering of the Cuban people. Reconciliation must begin, and people of faith must lead the way.

In that spirit, I find myself affected and challenged by this morning's Gospel account of the Transfiguration of Christ.  Jesus leads Peter, James, and John to a high mountain to pray. For a moment the disciples see a vision of Christ's divinity. They are able to see Jesus as he truly is: the Incarnate Word of the Living God. Then, the voice of God pierces through the heavens - "This is my Son, the Beloved."  This echoes words spoken at Jesus' baptism. (Mark 9:7)  At the moment of the Transfiguration, just as in the moment of Jesus' baptism, those present encounter God's sheer delight, God's pleasure, God's joy.

The story of the Transfiguration points back to the story of Jesus' baptism because it is in baptism that Jesus - like each of us - most intimately encounters God's outpouring of unbounded love.  Baptism marked for Jesus, as it does for us, the beginning of active participation in God's work in the world.  But Baptism is not about taking up of an  agenda.   Rather, baptism is about giving up our own agendas and giving of ourselves so that God's plans may be worked in us by the power of the Holy Spirit. "My food is to do the will of the One who sent me, and to complete his work," Jesus declares at the outset of his public ministry. (John 4:34)  For us too, then, by virtue of our Baptism and God's love
poured out upon us, we are called to engage God's work in our world.  This is made clear by Jesus on the mountain of the Transfiguration. The disciples who witness God's declaration of love were not allowed by Jesus to linger in their awe or contemplation.  Instead, he brings them back down from the mountain, back to the work of the baptized in the world.

And what is that work of the baptized? What is the mission of the Church?

The catechism of the American Prayer Book says:  "The mission of the Church is to restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ." (BCP, p. 855).

Or, as St. Paul says, the mission of the Church is to proclaim - in both word and deed - that "in Christ, God was reconciling the world to himself, and has entrusted to us the ministry of reconciliation."  Because of our baptism we, like Jesus, are proclaimed beloved by God and called to be fellow workers in God's project of reconciliation.

Bishop John Chane: A Gospel of Intolerance

It's no secret that the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion are engaged in a bitter internal struggle over the role of gay and lesbian people within the church. But despite this struggle, the leaders of our global communion of 77 million members have consistently reiterated their pastoral concern for gays and lesbians. Meeting last February, the primates who lead our 38 member provinces issued a unanimous statement that said in part: "The victimization or diminishment of human beings whose affections happen to be ordered towards people of the same sex is anathema to us."

We now have reason to doubt those words....

Have we become so cowed by the periodic eruptions about the decadent West that Archbishop Akinola and his allies issue that we are no longer willing to name an injustice when we see one?

I also feel compelled to ask the archbishop's many high-profile supporters in this country why they have not publicly dissociated themselves from his attack on the human rights of a vulnerable population. Is it because they support this sort of legislation, or because the rights of gay men and women are not worth the risk of tangling with an important alliance?

Read it all.

Three Theses about Religion in the Public Square

1)  Religion has a legitimate place in the public sphere.  Governments can support religious institutions if there are reliable criteria for administering tasks and evaluating goals.  The interpretation of the freedom of religion clause primarily refers to establishing the supremacy of particular religions.

2)  Religions should be open to public critique especially by people who do not identify with a religious community.  Religious books like the Bible or the Koran may be read, but they may also be freely critiqued, satirized, ignored and altered by individuals.    

3)  Bureaucracies have no comprehension of religious or supernatural claims, and must be agnostic about any claims regarding holiness or miracles.  It's sole criteria is social utility.   In short, the bureaucrat ensures everyone plays by the same rules.   

A Radio Ad for An Episcopal Church

This Sunday.  "A sacramental showdown."  "Feel the overwhelming tsunami of love..." 

Church Photo

A parishioner called me at 6:30am this morning to encourage me to cancel mass.  A couple others had hinted at it the night before.  I wanted to wait.  who knows?  We might get visitors....

There were 16 inches of snow, and it hadn't been plowed, in part because the storm was just beginning. 

Needless to say, I didn't drive.   Usually its a 15 minute walk, but today it was more like 25 minutes.  Changed the message on the answering machine encouraging people to stay home and safe.  Drank a cup of coffee while calling the leadership, discouraging any attempt to drive in this apocalyptic weather.   Actually it's not really apocalyptic.  I just wanted to use the word.   

Noone showed for mass, which was, in this case, justified.   A parishioner couple called to invite me to their house on the way back from church, where they served me curried butternut squash apple soup with walnuts and a orange pumpkin bundt cake with vanilla yogurt and orange glaze.  They said, "we take care of da faddeh."  Which was very nice.  They even gave me new socks.