"And of the Holy Spirit":Legislative Day I (061306)

“It’s dangerous to invoke the Holy Spirit”

With these words, Presiding Bishop Frank Tracy Griswold opened his sermon at the Eucharist on the first legislative day of the 75th General Convention of the Episcopal Church.

These words have hovered and haunted me throughout the day.

It is the nature and character of political creatures to engage in speculation and prognostication – and these creatures are crawling all over the place. If you eavesdrop even for a few minutes on conversations in and around Convention – in cafes and bars, elevators and bathrooms – you’ll hear it:

“Well, the buzz in the House of Bishops is . . . .

“So, when that happens, we’ll have a chance to . . . .

“Just stonewall that resolution until the Special Committee acts . . ."

Don’t get me wrong, strategy and negotation are an integral part of the legislative process, and I can get into it with the best of them. I believe that strategy and prognostication are two of the tools used by the Holy Spirit in order to do this work. It’s why God gave us the gift of intelligence.

I think we get into trouble when we begin to believe that we know how the Holy Spirit works – or worse, that we can predict what s/he will do in any given circumstance.

What is remarkable about this convention (thus far, at least), is that the presentations at hearings and conversations afterward are respectful and amazingly calm, belying the tension and anxiety that are obviously present in the hearts and minds of every deputy, bishop, guest and visitor.

The anxiety shows up in the painful minutia of word-smithing. This should come as no surprise. We are a group of educated, “meet, right and proper” Episcopalians who are keenly aware that, with Mother England, we are two countries separated by a common language.

The most obvious example is the furor over “regret” vs. “repent.” The Windsor Report (TWR), an international panel called into being by the Archbishop of Canterbury, “invited” (yes, that’s the word they used), the Episcopal Church to “repent” of our actions, in General Convention 2003 to approve the election of Gene Robinson, an honestly gay man, as Bishop of NH.

We can’t – we won’t – do that. We don’t believe we did anything wrong, and for us, repentance means an admission of wrong-doing. What we have said, instead, is what we believe and know to be true: that we regret the turmoil this has caused in the World Wide Anglican Communion (WWAC).

What we’ve been told is that to the British, repentance doesn’t carry the same burden of moral judgment as it does for us. The American evangelicals have seized on this, saying we should ‘repent’ and ‘submit’ to TWR – and, the ecclesiastical wars rage on.

An interesting development came to today’s discussion concerning whether or not we are “members” or “constituent members” of the WWAC.

Which made me giggle.

Out loud.

Conservative diocese like Pittsburgh, Dallas, Ft. Worth and San Joaquin are loathed to consider themselves “constituent members” of The Episcopal Church (TEC), yet practically salivate to be considered “constituent members” of the WWAC.

I giggled – out loud – because TEC has a constitution. The WWAC does not.

So, how can one be a “constituent member” of an entity without a constitution?

It’s like being in the Theater of The Absurd.

Or, Alice Through The Looking Glass.

I suppose this could sound to some exactly like the kind of tedium which is the stuff of the legislative process – no more, no less.

To others, it may sound a bit like “gallows humor.”

To my ears, it simply sounds like the kind of foolishness which is an indication that the Holy Spirit is around somewhere, warming up for some really big surprises.

I did run into Martin Minns, peripatetic conservative nominee for bishop in any diocese where he thinks he might have a chance to win – or at least, prove a point. He is one of the founding members and architects, as well as the spokesperson for the arch-conservative American Anglican Counsel (AAC) and the Anglican Network of churches.

Frankly, he looked terrible, and I told him so.

“How are you, Martin?” I asked, genuinely concerned. He averted his eyes for a moment and when he returned he said, “Well, I suppose you and I are praying for the same thing, arent' we?”

“Really?” I asked, taken aback. “And, what might that be?”

“Clarity,” he answered.

For a few seconds, I was confused.

I’ve known Martin for a number of years. I’ve come to love Rachel, his adult Down’s Syndrome daughter. Martin has always been painfully (to me) clear about his understanding of God, and his vision of the church. I, too, am equally (and, no doubt just as painfully) clear about my theology and ecclesiology.

Suddenly, it came to me. I realized that he was talking about the clarity of the actions of General Convention.

“No Anglican Fudge, eh Martin?” I asked. “No artful dodge.”

“Right,” said he, with more sadness in his voice and in his eyes than I think he wanted to reveal.

I don’t know if the Holy Spirit will answer Martin’s prayers for clarity. In my experience, s/he rarely traffics in that arena. Indeed, chaos is her natural, preferred home – bringing something new into being as she has done since the beginning of creation when she brooded over the chaos which brought forth the earth.

I’m quite certain that I don’t know what the Holy Spirit is up to in this time and place for The Episcopal Church or the Anglican Communion. I only know that the Presiding Bishop is absolutely right:

“It is dangerous to invoke the Holy Spirit.”

And, we have.

In the words of the third verse of the hymn we sang this morning (to the tune of Abbot’s Leigh):

Loving God, who birthed creation from the nothingness of space,
kindling life where all was empty,
turning chaos into grace:
When we feel confused and fruitless, draw upon our restless night;
give us faith’s imagination
hope’s renewing, love’s delight.
Words: Carl P. Daw, Jr. (B. 1944)