This paper was written for the Anglican Communion’s Continuing Indaba Project, in conjunction with a North American meeting of the project held at Virginia Seminary, in April 2010. It will be posted later on the project’s site.

A. The scope of the Indaba project

The Continuing Indaba Project, as its organizers have described it, is geared toward “decision making by consensus,” in a way adaptable to the Anglican Communion. (The word “indaba” is of Bantu [African] origin, and connotes a meeting or council to discuss a serious matter.) In particular, it is about seeking a “common mind” in the face of “hard questions” that “threaten to divide us.” What are these conflicted questions? Sexuality is one, along with other matters, like “the authority of Scripture, faithfulness to tradition and the respect for the dignity of all.”

The project’s organizers recognize, however, that its outcome may not be actual “agreement” over these questions. Still, at least some agreement is hoped for; and where not agreement, then some “clarification of disagreement” such as to create more “positive missional relationships.” So, Indaba will seek consensus around conflicted questions that either leads to actual agreement on the matter at issue, or at least to a better understanding of the disagreement in a way that promotes closer cooperation in mission.

In what follows, I wish to reflect on how this approach might in fact play itself out on the first hard question mentioned, that of sexuality. (It is, after all, one upon whose difficulty subsequent discussions seem to founder.) What conflicts are resolvable in this way? And is sexuality one of them? And if so how, and if not, then what? Although I want to turn to scriptural examples, I also want to begin by laying out a way in which to locate the dynamics of consensus decision-making in general, as it might take place within organizations. And, of course, Anglican churches and the Anglican Communion as a group of churches are organizations, if of a particular kind. Thereby the scriptural examples can have some systematic purchase on our practical understanding for the Church. Thus, although this is not primarily a theological reflection, it provides material for that part of the theological task which is the proper articulation of God’s encounter with human practical behavior.

B. Hirschman’s Model

So let me outline what I consider to be a persuasive account of how disagreement presents and resolves itself variously within organizations in general. To do so, I will make use of a secular description, that given in Albert Hirschman’s influential 1970 volume Exit, Voice, and Loyalty (1970). Hirschman’s book is initially about business firms, but he applies his model — and others have also done so — to a range of membership organizations: political parties, nations even; and, of course, churches. His basic idea, deceptively simple, is this:

Organizations deal with challenges and dissension through a proper (and it varies by situation) balance between the loyalty of customers/workers/members and the exit of the dissatisfied. The place of “voice” in this balance is important, but again, varied: voice (the ability to question, inform, deliberate, engage in and influence decision-making) is necessary for internal critique and reform; too much voice, however, can be disruptive. “Exit” is encouraged through the provision of many choices, under circumstances where voice is constrained; it is discouraged by either loyalty, lack of choice (say, for instance, extremes in a political party, with no other parties as real choices), or coercion.

Finally, there are the situations where dissension and the exercise of dissenting voice is bound to the satisfaction of the struggle itself — “movement politics” is about this, for instance, and choice is not at issue, but rather the struggle itself is what gives energy, and the struggle itself, then, becomes an ethical act on its own. Even in religion, this is a factor for some. So, in a much less sweeping way, there are those in churches for whom dissent and conflict within an organization is itself a part of engaging the fulfillment of membership.

In the best situations, in any case, exit is a “safety valve” for “too much voice” or too great a level of internal dissatisfaction; it releases from the organization’s system tensions and conflicts that, if left in place, would destroy the whole and ruin individual integrity. So governments themselves are sometimes willing to let go of the dissatisfied, e.g., 17th-century Puritan emigration from Britain, Soviet Jewish emigration in the 1970s, Cuban emigration, and so on. There is, to be sure, a kind of emotional “exit” as well, when — for lack of choice — members simply drop out of engagement, through a form of acquiesced marginalization.

One key point in all of this is that the greater provision of choice makes exit more and more likely, and at a certain point, organizations start losing what would otherwise be perhaps constructive dissent, as well as the gifts of those who embody it. The departure from France of Protestants after the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes in the late 17th century is an example of this, and it crippled French culture into the future in many key ways. (To be sure, in this last case, it was not so much “choice” that was at issue, but a deeply misguided expulsion.) Indeed, too much choice undercuts both loyalty and voice, except in special situations.

We might note as well situations in which voice has been constrained but exit is not possible in a sustained way — whole peoples (e.g., large minorities or even disenfranchised majorities [one can think of the Balkans or certain nations in Africa]), who either cannot leave a country, or whose refugee status elsewhere is unmanageable. Loyalty is less an issue here than are the perceived or real needs for survival. Civil war is usually the outcome to such convergences of restrictions on both voice and exit. Sometimes — often only after the exhaustion of civil war — negotiated settlements can be reached, motivated by the need to avoid further bloodshed (see, for instance, the work by Donald Rothschild and Philip G. Roeder). These represent interesting cases of “consensual” decision-making (e.g., South Africa) among previously “irreconcilable” parties. But they are rarely useful models for church disagreements, apart from state intervention, because their single purpose initially is to avoid murder rather than agree upon religious commitments, let alone worship together. (I bring this up because there have been attempts to create parallels between such negotiated political agreements between hostile parties within a single nation, on the one hand, and internal church discussions on the other. These attempts strike me as, on the whole, category mistakes.)

One of the things that Hirschman’s model explains — something most people know intuitively in any case — is that in most organizations what we know as “consent” by members is often only very “thin”: either consent represents the lack of choice in the face of constrained voice (it is a suffered consent) or it represents the outcome to an appeasing policy, constantly shifting, in the face of too ready access to exit in response to easily available alternative choices. To this extent, “procedural justice,” in the sense of a robust framework of regulated debate, deliberation, and decision, with the regular possibility of subsequent revisitation of a controverted matter — a liberal political notion—may be an ideal that has little value in a culture of easy choice. For persevering in the engagement of “procedures” demands loyalty and committed voice both, and both of these are diluted by too much choice. On the other hand, it is precisely when procedures are no longer trusted, or when their engagement does not in fact give constructive scope to voice, that they are abandoned, whether physically or emotionally. (The real analogies with the Anglican Communion are here obvious.) Finally, Hirschman’s model locates what one might call the option of “conscientious disobedience” (discussed below) as either a form of engaged marginalization or as a form of participation that is fed by conflict, but that nonetheless does not abandon loyalty for exit.

One can readily see parallels here with dynamics that are being played out in Anglican churches and in the Communion. My purpose, however, is not to dwell on these details, but to move on to the more general issues of churches and the debate over sexuality.

C. The Church: new thresholds of participation

Taking up some of the key aspects of Hirschman’s model, we can return to the case of the Church or of churches. In general, it seems clear that membership in a church is sustained by loyalty (leaving aside the divine motives for such loyalty). And that the balance between loyalty and voice may vary, depending on the perceived needs of members.

But even in churches, loyalty can be subverted when voice is reduced, especially in times where the church faces challenges. Sixteenth-century Europe offers a good example. One of the most significant transitions in the early modern period of the Western Church, one that now defines religious affiliation in general, is the explosion of alternative ecclesial choices. (We should note that, for Anglicans in particular, this factor has grown in significance recently, with the emergence of alternative Anglican ecclesial bodies standing alongside existing ones. This factor — earlier “continuing churches,” the AMiA, ACNA, GAFCON, TEC’s own putative “international communion,” etc. — should not be underestimated as a process-changing element.) This, understandably, has lowered the sustenance threshold of loyalty to a given church: exit becomes easier, and more readily taken advantage of, in a religiously plural and tolerant society. The amount and kind of voice sought after by Christians in their church also changes in the expanding market of ecclesial options: often, members of churches want more voice, and it takes little resistance to such desires to elicit an exit. Recent studies, e.g., by the Pew Foundation, have shown that this pattern has become more prominent within the ranks of all American Christian denominations and traditions over the past few years, including the more “catholic” traditions.

D. The “Hard Question” of Sexuality among Anglican Churches: what are the options?

Now, moving to the particular situation of the debate over sexual behavior within Anglican churches: how does this hard question sit within the shifting balances of loyalty and voice within our churches? Consensus would come into play when dissenting voices to this or that state of affairs or church policies (including teaching) resolved themselves into a renewed commitment of loyalty to the church. So, with respect to this particular question, we might ask: about what is there debate, and about what might consensus be achieved? The proper place of expressed same-sexuality in the church? Partnered bishops for a given diocese? How much voice needs to be granted around all this to preserve loyalty and prevent exit? Is it possible that in fact a procedural consensus can be pursued and achieved that would maintain the balance?

I have argued before that consensus around the “proper place” of, e.g., same-sex unions cannot be had in the church of the West today, and as a result the resolution of dissenting voice in Western churches is unlikely in any first-order fashion. And we can see, following Hirschman’s model, why this must be the case: because of the intervention of the secular state on the matter of same-sexuality in many Western nations, voice and dissension have in fact been practically ruled out as having constructive capacity. This intervention has rendered impossible a balanced ecclesial debate and possible consensus, in the sense of minds coming together (and therefore changing). Because of enacted civil legislation permitting and protecting these same-sex relationships, gay unions/marriages and families (via surrogate conception and gestation or adoption) are now legitimized and upheld by the state, rooted in social ties, and therefore ensconced within the membership of many church bodies.

What then is left to be discussed and consensually decided in this situation? Is it the question of whether membership of civilly married gay couples is to be permitted in the church? But if this were an actual discussion, with broad scope for voice, and thereby developed decision-making, this would mean that it is at least possible that those churches where such persons (i.e., same-sex couples) are now members could in fact decide to throw them out (or at least impose membership limitations), or conversely that those who disagree could come to change their mind and agree to their continued unlimited membership.

Such “change of mind” on the part of either group is theoretically possible, but pragmatically unrealistic. For given the practical realities of a socially and legally upheld same-sex relationship, only one group can be allowed to change their mind, and thus only one outcome is actually possible within most Western societies as a consensually achieved result: viz., that those who disagree with continued full membership would change their minds. And is such an outcome in fact one that reflects an open-ended consensual process?

Let us return to Hirschman’s model. At this point, because of the intervention of the state in legitimizing actual same-sex families, complete with children and their assumed obligations, voice (in the sense of decision-making power) has effectively been constrained: families will not, because they cannot in this society, be broken up. Furthermore, churches are now subject to civil litigation, with at least a prima facie plausibility of losing, if they choose to discriminate against the full membership privileges of same-sex couples.

There are therefore three real options for the Western church around this hard question: loyalty trumps disagreement (i.e., those who oppose the membership of partnered gays subordinate their disagreement to their church loyalty, and somehow tolerate the alternative); dissent is coercively marginalized, or eliminated through various means (e.g., those who oppose the full church membership of partnered gays are refused voice or positions of leadership or decision-making, or resources, in a way analogous to their desired membership limitations on same-sex couples): or exit (i.e., those who oppose the full membership of partnered gays leave the church altogether, either for some other church or for none).

If these are the real options in this situation in Western Anglican churches, the consensus-seeking discussion around sexuality in the Church cannot be about the proper place of same-sexuality within the Christian Church (a first-order question), but will instead be about what to do with an asymmetrically entrenched set of commitments (i.e., a disagreement that takes place within a disequilibrium of power) within the Church itself. In this case, I therefore suggest, Indaba can at best “clarify disagreement” — not only that it exists and of what kind, but what to do with it (that is, where it leads). It remains, furthermore, a real question as to whether this kind of disagreement can be clarified in a way that strengthens missional relationship, largely because the “exit” strategies pursued by some are likely to disrupt rather than strengthen such relationships.

Finally, we should be aware that the dynamics within the world Communion, among various Anglican churches, is related to the above, although the weight of relationships, and the constraints on voice and exit are very different. By and large, Western churches are in the minority view on the matter of sexuality, but also have demonstrated the capacity, for various reasons, to control voice. Exit has been the choice of some conservative Anglican churches; while, as the dynamics of control over voice begin to shift against them, Western churches, like TEC, begin to consider exit on their own terms. The Communion, however, has been built primarily on loyalty, and here the rise of putative alternative communions begins to prove unsettling. The balance of exit, voice, and loyalty is, as in most cases and especially here, very complex and unpredictable, affected by changing attitudes, new projection of various kinds of leadership, changing economic and legal contexts, and malleable self-understandings among participants. Still, the general dynamics currently at work are fairly straightforward.

E. Scriptural examples of decision-making

At this point, let us turn to scriptural example. By looking at how “disagreements” are engaged in Scripture, we can perhaps help answer this last question. I will provide some simple, if broadly sketched, exemplars.

1. consensus decision-making around open-ended disagreement: Probably the most attractive kind of scriptural example will be one that demonstrates the people of God dealing with a difficult matter, around which there is disagreement, and then coming to a common mind and, from this, a commonly upheld decision. There is a sense in which this is what, in the first instance, Christians are after (cf. Jesus’ prayer in John 17). And probably the most prominent exemplar of such consensus decision-making is the gathering in Jerusalem, described in Acts 15, which sought agreement and made a decision regarding some of the demands placed upon Gentile believers.

We know that the disagreement was deep and heated. And the format of the gathering has been well-studied and broken down: there is a gathering of the “apostles and elders,” who hear the testimony and views of those in debate; there is consideration, and the search for coherence whose foundation lies in the Scriptures; there is finally a common acceptance of the leader’s (James’s) discerned decision that is attributed to the Holy Spirit’s work as being one and same with the Spirit’s scriptural witness. Much of the actual human process is evidently unreported in the account. Still, it is a winning picture of open-ended discussion, leading to consensus, through the “facilitation” of a leader and a faith in God’s more primary direction.

But the example here is important to understand in its context, for it would be wrong to assume that this way of proceeding is indeed possible or at least accessible to any church at any given time. For the context of the Jerusalem gathering — both rhetorically, and we may assume historically — lies in the thick description of the apostolic community and its growing church already given in the previous chapters of Acts. Indeed, this is what, to an extent, fills in the blanks of the “procedure.” And in particular, I would single out — as has the Church’s tradition — the description of this apostolic community in Acts 2 and 4:

They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe, and many wonders and miraculous signs were done by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved (Acts 2:42–47).

All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they shared everything they had. With great power the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and much grace was upon them all. There were no needy persons among them. For from time to time those who owned lands or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales and put it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to anyone as he had need (Acts 4:32–34).

These texts, with their use of vocabulary and imagery that overlaps with Acts 15, is clearly meant to describe the practical character of that church that actually makes a difficult and significant decision. And “practical” is indeed the issue here, in the sense of outlining the “procedures” of common life in which decisions are made. Hardly understood by the Church as a past “ideal” (contra some modern critics), Acts 2 and 4 became the touchstone for a range of renewal movements in the Church over the centuries. These movements include Augustine’s own community life, built into his Rule that is then disseminated in the West; the pursuit of the vita apostolica in the 11th to 13th centuries (including Franciscanism); the deeply influential retrieval of “primitive” holiness among Anglicans in the late 17th and early 18th centuries, including the model of the religious societies that so transformed Anglican mission; finally they reach into the charismatic renewal and the “new monasticisms” of the present (cf., the Fraternités de Jérusalem).

In all this is embodied the shape of the church within which consensus is achieved. And this shape is built around regular gathering, devotion and submission to an apostolic center of teaching, the sharing of the Eucharist, persistent prayer together, and the sharing of property. Out of this comes “one mind and one heart.” And it is important to understand, then, that Acts 15 is possible because of such a shaped church of regular practice, and that consensus emerges from within it. The shape of the church is not the result of consensus, but rather the opposite genetic relation pertains.

Hence, consensus of the kind envisioned in Acts 15 presupposes something already existent. Without it, the bare procedural elements of counsel just as easily become the tool of deception and judgment, as in 1 Kings 22, when God actually makes use of a “lying spirit” to mislead those who search for God’s will with a seeming genuineness.

And it is just this shape to the church described in Acts 2 and 4 that has now seemingly slipped through the fingers of the Anglican Communion. I need not go through the elements enumerated above as applied to our “common” life; suffice it to say that on the most tangible of levels — the sharing of the Eucharist and the holding of shared property — it is obvious that Anglicanism is no longer either “a” church or a set of churches capable of reaching a consensus in the Spirit. While it may be possible to see such a church one day restored, such restoration is not so much a question of discernment as it is dependent upon the power of God apart from human discernment.

So, if this example no longer fits our situation, what other scriptural examples may?

2. entrenched disagreement: This is disagreement within the people of God that admits of no free movement toward consensus. And this, presumably, is the kind of disagreement that an Indaba process might seek to clarify, without however resolving. Within Scripture, there are various ways that entrenched disagreement has been dealt with:

a. coercive marginalization, in the sense of restricting the voice of one party to the disagreement.

i. Numbers 12: Miriam and Aaron are at odds with Moses over his leadership. Having voiced this disagreement and opposition, Miriam is punished by God with leprosy, which is designed to constrain future dissension, as indeed it does.

ii. Prophetic marginalization (cf. Amos and Jeremiah), whereby those who voice disagreement — with the king, with the religious establishment and so on — are threatened, demeaned, imprisoned, and in some cases (cf. Matthew 3:34ff’s list) killed. The deliberate acceptance by dissidents of the coercive elements here can represent what today we would call “conscientious objection.” One might wish to place this as a separate response (see below), although it must be said that it is rare that such objections do not end in the actual disappearance of the objectors altogether (although, as in some of great modern movements of popular rights, in India, South Africa, and the United States, that is not always the case — something worth bearing in mind).

iii. The early apostles themselves, in their denunciation of the authorities’ treatment of Jesus, are similarly constrained, imprisoned, and in some cases killed.

It should be stressed that, in the context of these examples, what is at issue are situations where discussion, by definition, will not and even (from the perspective of divine truth and vocation) should not be open-ended: only one party is in the right, and the other must either repent, as it were, or be silenced, although in all these situations, it is the divine voice that is coerced into a hoped-for reticence, even as its utterance is an entrenched and immovable demand.

But such coercive response to entrenched disagreement is not the only one demonstrated within the Scriptures

b. exit: just as Hirschman suggested, exit is also a response to constrained voice within the Scriptures.

i. Gamaliel’s advice in Acts 5:33ff. is a form of suggested exit that is in fact followed up on: “keep away from these men,” he advises, and “they took his advice.” This kind of separation, in this case an enforced separation, is repeated several times in the book of Acts, e.g., when Paul walks away from the Jews finally in 18:6: “your blood be upon your heads! … From now on I will go to the Gentiles!” In these cases, there is no “room” for an adjustment of commitment in either party, but there is room to leave (unlike the cases above in a.); there are, in other words, choices available, even perhaps invented ones as in the case of Gamaliel.

ii. Paul and Barnabas choose exit to deal with their “contention” in Acts 15:36ff, and go their separate ways. (It appears that at least the subject of this contention was later resolved — cf. Col. 10 — although there is no evidence that Paul and Barnabas themselves ever reconciled). In this case, Barnabas is presumably too tied to his kinsman Mark to give in to Paul, and exit is possible simply because there is a great world wide open for various missionary endeavors that do not require ongoing cooperation.

iii. The Letters of John contain various references to exit within the church: 1 John 2:19; 1 John 10; 3 John 10. That the early Christian church was already a place of fissure and, to that degree, choices — ones permitted or ignored by at least the civil authorities — makes the situation here closer to our own in many ways.

c. active disobedience: disobedience may be an alternative to marginalization on the one hand and exit on the other. The dissident party simply does not comply but it does so out of a certain kind of loyalty to the body to which it is disobedient. Thus, the dissent and disobedient party also insists upon paying the penalty and it does so to make clear that its disagreement is not a rejection of a more fundamental loyalty.

i. many of the prophets followed this path, e.g., Elijah in his relationship with Ahab. By and large, however, Elijah’s disobedience included flight and hiding more than the acceptance of the penalty, so the example is not perfect. Jeremiah represents a more obvious form of disobedience with accepted consequences, although in his case these consequences probably ended in his own demise, and therefore represent a final “marginalization.”

ii. Jesus is clearly an exemplar of this attitude. Like Jeremiah, the accepted penalty is death. More obviously than Jeremiah, however, the final outcome is not only death, but new life, if in a way that is strategically (because metaphysically) decoupled from the disobedience itself: resurrection is not a logical outcome to conscientious objection! In any case, Jesus’ exemplar points to (F.c) below, and stands as a decision internal to his own vocation, quite apart from common discernment. He does not need to consult, either with his friends let alone with his opponents. That might not be the case, however, for his followers.

iii. The Apostles, in Acts 5:27–32, provide a more classic example of disobedience and accepted penalty, “obeying God and not human authority.” The outcome to this disobedience, however, is not consistent, and (as noted above) in one instance gives rise to a form of “exit.”

F. The Anglican churches’ scriptural paths

If we accept that Anglicans are in a situation of entrenched disagreement over the hard question of sexuality — and I have argued that we are — then the examples above can show us what are the matters that Indaba, as it were, might helpfully address. As I see it, they are the following:

a. what are the dynamics at work in our disagreement? Since I am only proposing a personal judgment about what they are, I assume there are views other than mine out there(!), and these need to be discussed so as to “clarify” the disagreement. Having done this, however, and assuming we all acknowledge the nature of the entrenched disagreement we are in, then we have yet to reach some consensus on a response. Since I imagine most Christians today agree that coercive marginalization of dissenting voices is not a desirable response, we would need to come to agreement on:

b. terms of exit. This would be a useful consensus to achieve in many current situations in North America especially. Attempts have been made by the larger Communion (and generally in a rather timid way) to at least facilitate such discussion, but these have failed — largely, perhaps, because a mediation model was used by those who had not really accepted its premises from the start. In any case, it is also possible that Indaba about terms of exit would be helpful within the Communion at large. Although this was certainly not my original vision for the Covenant, perhaps one thing that the Covenant “process” is in fact doing, despite itself, is embodying just such a discussion about the “terms of exit” from the Communion. I imagine, however, that more forthright ways could and should be found.

Finally, one might consider Indaba within entrenched disagreement as engaging a:

c. discussion of the terms of “loyalty.” This is the only really theological point within this argument. In Christian terms, such a discussion has to do with whether those marginalized will see a greater value to maintaining membership than in holding on to their convictions in an exclusively focused fashion. Adapting one’s convictions toward an underlying loyalty to the common church can be achieved according to varying models: all the way from, on national analogies, negotiating regions of autonomy within a larger entity (this is the model, e.g., of “flying bishops” and, to an extent, Communion Partner Dioceses, etc.); to persistent and well-publicized agitation (one would probably need to fall into that group that finds meaning in struggle in order for this to work); to agreeing to suffer the demise of the material structures upheld by one’s conscience — a form of martyrdom, to be sure, where one “counts everything as loss for the sake of …,” in this case, for the sake of a notion of loyalty to the church, in entrenched disagreement, that somehow embodies the reality of Christ.

One way of describing this last option would be to say that one group — in this case, whichever group feels driven to consider strategies of exit — determines to continue to be a living example of (1.) above (Acts 2 and 4), as if God would empower its form — gathering, devoting, apostolic centering upon, breaking bread, praying, giving away — even when there is no reciprocal character at work within the whole church; even when, that is, there is no integral church that could ever sustain actual consensus. To repeat, this is a kind of ecclesial martyrdom. It may well include a form of disobedience via a vis the authorities in control, as well as including an accepted penalty, giving oneself up to God’s initiating judgment, after the example of Jesus (cf. 1 Peter 2:21–23). In a sense, we are talking about a kind of voluntary and active embrace of coerced marginalization, such that the coercive reality is itself unhinged and disarmed. This is, paradoxically, still an ”exit,” because it is a choice made without reference to the will of the other party; indeed, it is made explicitly contrary to the will of the other party, as if living in another world (“my Kingdom is not of this world; if it were of this world my servants would fight” [John 18:36]). The onlookers seek from him a desperate demonstration of his failure, crying out, “he saved others, let him save himself!” (cf. Matt. 27:42); Pilate asks that he plead for mercy (“do you not know that I have power to release you and power to crucify you?” [John 19:10); one thief challenges him, “save yourself, and us!” (Luke 23:39). Jesus’ choice, in this one case, is made apart from all other human choices.

A major question here is who should be in discussion about something like (c.)? Is this an Indaba for both parties to an entrenched disagreement, or only for the one who might decide to be martyred for their loyalty? I tend to think that, while the decision for such a path is for only one party to make, nonetheless it would be at least interesting to share in a discussion about it with those who have, as it were, remained in the “kingdom of this world” vis a vis the other party. It would further, in any case, the notion of testimony that the embrace of this option assumes. From the Indaba perspective, it is probably not necessary.

And finally we should recognize that we will need to deal with another kind of asymmetry here: discussions within a given local church (e.g., TEC or Canada) represent one kind of asymmetry; but discussions within the network of churches of the Anglican Communion may well engage an opposite dynamic, for here, arguably, the character of membership, voice, etc. is very different (as mentioned above in D.), and therefore the roles assumed by the disagreeing parties — at least as linked to positions on sexuality — may well be reversed in certain respects.

In sum, the conditions for a consensus-building Indaba are probably not present within Anglicanism on the hard question of sexuality. For various reasons, disagreement is entrenched, and the constraints on voice are asymmetrical in their force. Instead, what Indaba may prove useful for is building a consensus around terms of exit or around the character of loyalty that might rightly trump the need for exit. This last, however, can only base itself on the difficult decision made by the party who is considering such exit, independent of the views and motives of the other. Personally, it is to this last choice that I would turn my own spiritual and theological attention.
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I appreciate Ephraim Radner’s article. I’d like to respond to the ideas that were raised in my mind as I read the article, and as I have read other recent posts.

1. Our focus on these matters needs to be on Jesus as an exemplar of how conflict and relationships should be handled.

2. Sex does not seem to be high on Jesus’ list of priorities. He does not attempt to maintain his “purity” in regard to sexuality. Instead he consorts with the impure and is more focused on their needs than on his purity—woman taken in adultery, woman at the well, woman with the issue of blood.

3. The kinds of issues that Jesus seems more concerned with are issues of ministry to the downtrodden—to women, to the hungry, to the sick, to the lost. Jesus also seems very concerned about loving our neighbor and loving God. The “disruptive” issues of our day—sexuality, ordination of women, property disputes, who is right and who is wrong—seem to have very little to do with the agenda of Jesus.

4. Whether we can come to agreement or not is not the issue in terms of our unity. Our unity is not based on our agreement. Our unity is based on the reconciling work of Jesus Christ. Jesus did not call together a unified community. I doubt that the apostles agreed about much. However, they did agree about Jesus. He is our unity. We continue to live together in disagreement because this appears to be what Jesus desires.

5. We are evading much more serious issues by our focus on the “disruptive” issues. The world is engulfed in war and hatred, while we focus on sexual behavior. The creation of God is threatened with nuclear extinction, while we worry about who owns the property. A large percentage of humanity is starving to death, while we argue about whether women are fit to minister or lead. The Gospel is not preached and Jesus is not honored, while we try to decide whether or not we can live with people who are different than we are in the Church of Jesus Christ.

I’m sure that there is much about what I have written that others will find annoying. Well and good. I don’t doubt that I may be wrong. However, I serve a risen Lord. I believe that it is our job to love and serve Him whether we are right or wrong. I want to love Him more each day, and I want to learn to live in the community of faith that He has gathered. I am committed to honoring Him. I am committed to serving with others who call Jesus Savior and Lord.

I believe that all the company of believers is moving in a God-ward direction. If Baptists and Methodists and Presbyterians and Holiness and Roman Catholics are my brothers and sisters in faith, surely those in The Episcopal Church are my brothers and sisters as well.

Rev. Hoover-Dempsey:

A couple of things came to mind in reading your reply.

“1. Our focus on these matters needs to be on Jesus as an exemplar of how conflict and relationships should be handled.”

Our focus in fact needs to be on searching all the Scriptures, read figurally, Christologically because “all Scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, so that everyone who belongs to God may be proficient, equipped for every good work” (Tim 3:16-17). To simply read Scripture with Jesus as exemplar is to read Scripture in Marcionite-like or perhaps a supercessionist fashion, excising or replacing the OT and thus ignoring Providence - God’s Providence. And it would seem that reading with Jesus as exemplar allows people to use a limited frame of reference which does not lead to transformation but rather leads to a submission to their own culturally shaped morals; a sort of idolatry (Is 55:8-9) (of course all are guilty of this to one degree or another, this happens to be a particular example). Only examining parts of Scripture while ignoring the rest does not allow us to find our place before God since all Scripture is given by God for the building up of the Church.

2. Sex does not seem to be high on Jesus’ list of priorities. He does not attempt to maintain his “purity” in regard to sexuality. Instead he consorts with the impure and is more focused on their needs than on his purity—woman taken in adultery, woman at the well, woman with the issue of blood.

Certainly he consorts with these people. He calls all people “I have not come to call the righteous. I have come to call sinners” and yet “There is no one who is righteous, not even one (Ro 3:9; Ps 14:1-3). Thus he calls all of us out of this life, to die to this life of sin so that we might have new life in Him. It is a matter of calling one into transformation accomplished by God through our submission to his work through his church (Philippians 2:1-11, 21). thus our abiding the limitations placed on our common life - even when we don’t necessarily agree or find it hard to live accordingly). And what do you mean by “he doesn’t attempt to maintain his ‘purity’ in regard to sexuality”?

3. The kinds of issues that Jesus seems more concerned with are issues of ministry to the downtrodden—to women, to the hungry, to the sick, to the lost. Jesus also seems very concerned about loving our neighbor and loving God. The “disruptive” issues of our day—sexuality, ordination of women, property disputes, who is right and who is wrong—seem to have very little to do with the agenda of Jesus.

This is just false. So virtually every issue post Jesus’ life cannot be addressed by Scripture? God only had provision of His will for a limited period of time and limited contexts? Jesus’ ‘agenda’ is the gathering of all things in order that God may be all in all (1 Cor 15:27-28; Gen 12:1-3; Lev 26:3-13 (or you might try reading Dr. Radner’s commentary on Leviticus; Ps 106, which ends, “from everlasting to everlasting, Is 54:7). God’s Providence concerns all things, all of history and can thus address all things. To think otherwise is to diminish God into a limited human construction of an idea ‘watcher.’

4. Whether we can come to agreement or not is not the issue in terms of our unity. Our unity is not based on our agreement. Our unity is based on the reconciling work of Jesus Christ. Jesus did not call together a unified community. I doubt that the apostles agreed about much. However, they did agree about Jesus. He is our unity. We continue to live together in disagreement because this appears to be what Jesus desires.

We live together in disagreement because we are fallen. This does not mean we are not called to seek visible unity. Mission is severely compromised without a constant seeking of unity which necessarily includes a posture of repentance which takes on the form of mutual submission. You’ve separated Jesus from the Church as though we are a functional aspect with only worldly moorings rather than as the body of Jesus Christ; this doesn’t work from a Scriptural perspective, nor most certainly would your description be recognized by many of our ecumenical partners (though I admit it would be recognized by others).

Since we cannot escape this reality but for Jesus’ Second Coming, we are called to live in mutual submission to one another as God’s will, all of the Scriptures, are discerned over time. This requires procedures, practices, structures, that are grounded on a base of prayer, humility and submission (see Philippians 2:1-11 and Ephesians again). TEC has chosen not to live within this sort of relationship and we must therefore collectively determine how we will live in the new relationship within which we find ourselves. I think Dr. Radner sets out some biblically and theologically astute choices.

5. We are evading much more serious issues by our focus on the “disruptive” issues. The world is engulfed in war and hatred, while we focus on sexual behavior. The creation of God is threatened with nuclear extinction, while we worry about who owns the property. A large percentage of humanity is starving to death, while we argue about whether women are fit to minister or lead. The Gospel is not preached and Jesus is not honored, while we try to decide whether or not we can live with people who are different than we are in the Church of Jesus Christ.

We cannot evade our disruptive issues. We must face into them with prayer, humility and repentance. To not do so is to be something other than the Church. We are not a non profit or NGO. These issues you mention are important and should be addressed, but the manner in which we do so should take on a christiform shape; not a secular one (on this see the work of Stanley Hauerwas).

Katie

Hello Katie, Thanks for your reply.

1.) Regarding Marcion: I would argue that Jesus is the ultimate revelation of God’s purpose in the world. We do not disregard scripture, but we interpret scripture through the Living Word, who is Jesus Christ. Most of Jesus’ religious critics took the word very seriously, but they did so in a way that hardened their hearts toward their neighbors and, therefore, missed the point. Jesus, our Savior and our Lord, is the point.

2.)Regarding sexuality: Jesus seems unconcerned about criticisms that He is consorting with sinners and tax collectors. He points out that He came to save sinners. Most of us are hot to condemn the sins of those with whom we disagree, while disregarding our own sin. Homosexuality becomes a key issue because we who are not homosexuals can see ourselves as pure in to regard homosexuality. At the same time we live in a hypersexual culture, and we ignore the way sex and commerce interact in regard to heterosexuality. Heterosexual sin is much more pervasive than homosexual sin, yet we are not driving heterosexual sinners out of church.

In my experience, the Holy Spirit transforms our lives in the work of sanctification which occurs inside the Christian community. All of us are in need of sanctification. All of us are sinful and rebellious in need of the redeeming work of the Holy Spirit. Once we admit this, it becomes much harder to identify one group of sinners in the Church who are not to be tolerated.

3.) Regarding issues: In no way do I believe God is a watcher. I believe Jesus, our Lord, is living and active and sharper than a two edged sword, and He is at work in the world today. Our task is to follow His leadership.

4.) Jesus and the Church: The Church is the Body of Christ. Jesus and the Church are irrevocably united. The Church is Jesus’ creation and idea. I don’t believe that people in the Church—on whatever side on the issues being debated—do so out of malice or hate. I believe people genuinely believe that they are seeking to follow Jesus Christ.

5.) The shape of the debate: Yes, I agree that the way forward is through prayer, humility, and repentance. However, I believe that the way the debate is currently occurring is largely secular in nature. That is, we are quick to define the enemy and engage in vilification of persons.

Again, thank you for your reply, and, although we clearly disagree on some things, I am glad that we are united in our discipleship to our Savior and Lord, Jesus Christ.
Many blessings,
Randy+

Randy:

I must take issue with your comment:

2.)Regarding sexuality: Jesus seems unconcerned about criticisms that He is consorting with sinners and tax collectors. He points out that He came to save sinners. Most of us are hot to condemn the sins of those with whom we disagree, while disregarding our own sin. Homosexuality becomes a key issue because we who are not homosexuals can see ourselves as pure in to regard homosexuality. At the same time we live in a hypersexual culture, and we ignore the way sex and commerce interact in regard to heterosexuality. Heterosexual sin is much more pervasive than homosexual sin, yet we are not driving heterosexual sinners out of church.

You seem to be setting up a straw man here.  I have never heard any Anglican conservatives suggest that homosexuals should be driven out of the church.  I have experience with several parishes in Canada and the US which have since become part of the ACNA.  I would direct your attention to St. John’s, Shaughnessy in Vancouver, Canada.  Before Michael Ingham and his liberal allies decided to force the issue of same-sex blessings on the diocese, St. John’s counted many LGBT members, including the head of Vancouver’s Integrity group.  St. John’s never wavered in its Scriptural teaching on sexuality, yet these folks were always welcome.  It was only AFTER the liberals pushed this issue, that St. John’s took its principled stand, in response to which, many of the LGBT members left.

Thus to suggest that by refusing to declare certain sexual behaviors as “good and blessed”, conservatives are seeking to “drive people out of the church” is simply grossly untrue and unfair.  Homosexuality becomes a key issue when it is demanded that the Church officially approve of, bless, and hold up as an acceptable lifestyle, sexual sin.  At that point, those making such demands have made homosexuality an issue.  But this is true of anything.

I recall hearing from a priest about an interview she had for a position.  She was taken out by a wealthy couple from the church.  The reading for Sunday was the one about it being easier for camel to go through the eye of a needle then for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God.  This couple was very upset with this verse, and wanted the priest-candidate to tell them that it could be ignored.  They believed that they had earned their money and were under no obligation to give it away to anyone else (the poor being just lazy, etc., etc.).  They became quite upset when the priest-candidate refused to tell them that this verse could be ignored.  Thus, at that point, that couple made the love of money a presenting issue.  By refusing to dismiss this verse to make this couple feel better about themselves, the priest-candidate was certainly not “driving them out of the church.”

I would also point out to you Katie’s comments about Jesus consorting with sinners.  Again, nobody is suggesting that the Church not be open to sinners - the problem comes when the Church tells some sinners that they don’t need to be transformed by the Gospel:

Certainly he consorts with these people. He calls all people “I have not come to call the righteous. I have come to call sinners” and yet “There is no one who is righteous, not even one (Ro 3:9; Ps 14:1-3). Thus he calls all of us out of this life, to die to this life of sin so that we might have new life in Him. It is a matter of calling one into transformation accomplished by God through our submission to his work through his church (Philippians 2:1-11, 21). thus our abiding the limitations placed on our common life - even when we don’t necessarily agree or find it hard to live accordingly).

I like Katie’s reply very much. It underlies a basic problem: there is a serious disagreement among us about who Jesus is. If he is merely an “exemplar,” then there are many exemplars to choose from. Why would Jesus be in any way special?

No doubt we shall hear that if this attitude prevailed, women and minorities would remain enslaved.  The simple answer to that is that being gay neither indicates a gender nor a race. The matter of predisposition gets us nowhere in that attraction is in itself “neutral”, sometimes benign as in attraction to classical music or rap, or frightful as in attraction to violence or fraud. Being female or black has no moral implication in itself. Acting on a predisposition may well have a moral implication. To suggest that Jesus had nothing to say about morality is to take Mr.  Jefferson’s scissors to the Gospels. That Jesus contemplated the marriage of persons of the same sex contradicts the Gospel record.

Again, nobody is suggesting that the Church not be open to sinners -

James: My point is that everyone in the Church is a sinner—as we see in the Romans passage. Yet, we have identified one group of sinners and treated them as though they were the problem. We are the problem.

I believe we deceive ourselves when we think that our sins are somehow less significant than the sins of others or that we are repentant and others are not. As we wrestle with scripture in the community of faith, we should be more convicted of our own sin and less concerned about the sin of others. The same Holy Spirit that can convict me of my sin is perfectly capable of convicting my brothers and sisters in Christ without my help.

Why are we so ardent to point toward sexual sins, but so casual about warning of the sins of violence towards others? I would argue it is because we have been seduced by a culture that has taught us that violence is acceptable and made us blind to the pervasive misuse of our sexuality. It is not 10% of the people in our parishes who are wrestling with issues of sexuality, it is closer to 100%.

As I look at our diocese I find a community of people who are not in agreement about what I have termed the “disruptive” issues of our day. However, I also find a community of people who are intent on serving Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord. I rejoice that we are committed to God. I rejoice that we are committed to one another. I believe the Holy Spirit will guide us and direct us in the long run. I believe the same thing about the broader communion.

Dear Father Clavier,
I taught school for twenty-one years. I taught fourth and fifth graders. During those years I saw children who were nine and ten years old who were already struggling with their sexual identities. I still know many of these children as they approach their thirties. As I have wrestled with the place of homosexuals in our Church, I see the faces of those children in my mind. I think of their lives, their abilities, their kindness, and their struggles.

I also think of the rubric found in Holy Baptism:

Holy Baptism is full initiation by water and the Holy Spirit into Christ’s Body the Church. The bond which God establishes is indissoluble.

One of the problems with baptizing infants is we have already made commitments and promises to them before we know them well.

While I am committed to following the lead of my Bishop and our diocese, I understand and am sympathetic to those who find this difficult.
Randy+

Randy:

I would still suggest that you are erecting straw man arguments.

Yet, we have identified one group of sinners and treated them as though they were the problem.

No, conservatives haven’t.  If you look at the history of how the sexuality controversy has come about, it was not that conservatives one day decided to be extra-picky about homosexuality.  No.  Rather, it came about when liberals decided to advocate that the Church declare certain sexual behaviors as being “good” and “blessed by God.”  The conservatives said “no, the Church can’t do that.”  The conservative position is most certainly not that one group of sinners is the problem.  The problem is that one group of sinners wants the Church to say that their particular “sin” isn’t a sin any more.

I believe we deceive ourselves when we think that our sins are somehow less significant than the sins of others or that we are repentant and others are not. As we wrestle with scripture in the community of faith, we should be more convicted of our own sin and less concerned about the sin of others. The same Holy Spirit that can convict me of my sin is perfectly capable of convicting my brothers and sisters in Christ without my help.

I am not aware that there is any sin contest.  I am not suggesting that anyone’s sin is worse then whatever I do.  The problem is whether we agree that all sinners and sinful behaviors need to be transformed by the Gospel of Christ, or if we declare that some sins no longer have this need.  One of the things I greatly miss from the old BCP is the penitential language.  I take great comfort from it because I know it is true - I know that I am unworthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under the Lord’s table, but I also know that despite that Jesus Christ still died for me.  The question isn’t that I or others think that we are less sinful then others.  Rather the question is what is defined as sin.

Why are we so ardent to point toward sexual sins, but so casual about warning of the sins of violence towards others?

I assume you don’t mean the “you” personally, but in any case, the Church doesn’t teach that violence is blessed by God, and it is not creating liturgies to bless acts of violence.  Perhaps the Church ought to speak out more on this, but I have heard the Church (speaking generically) speak out on this issue fairly strongly.

James: My point is that everyone in the Church is a sinner—as we see in the Romans passage. Yet, we have identified one group of sinners and treated them as though they were the problem. We are the problem.

I believe we deceive ourselves when we think that our sins are somehow less significant than the sins of others or that we are repentant and others are not. As we wrestle with scripture in the community of faith, we should be more convicted of our own sin and less concerned about the sin of others. The same Holy Spirit that can convict me of my sin is perfectly capable of convicting my brothers and sisters in Christ without my help.

I think James answers this point well. No Evangelical would deny their own sinfulness. Why is the claim that we deny our own sinfulness so pervasive if not the fact that those making the charge often want the whole idea of sin taken off the table? The claim that I think my repentance is complete while others are not is just wrong, and I would claim that this charge of hypocrisy is merely a way of avoiding the need to face up to their own sinfulness. The answer to the question, “Who are you to tell me I need to repent?” is “A man (or women) who is also in need of repentance.”

Why are we so ardent to point toward sexual sins, but so casual about warning of the sins of violence towards others? I would argue it is because we have been seduced by a culture that has taught us that violence is acceptable and made us blind to the pervasive misuse of our sexuality. It is not 10% of the people in our parishes who are wrestling with issues of sexuality, it is closer to 100%.

As I look at our diocese I find a community of people who are not in agreement about what I have termed the “disruptive” issues of our day. However, I also find a community of people who are intent on serving Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord. I rejoice that we are committed to God. I rejoice that we are committed to one another. I believe the Holy Spirit will guide us and direct us in the long run. I believe the same thing about the broader communion.

This passage I think opens up some area of possible agreement. If we can agree that there is such a thing as “misuse of our sexuality,” then we have taken a step forward. Only the most extreme voices seem to claim there there are no limits that can be applied externally to anyone’s expression of sexuality.

A number of questions then arise: Of primary importance is one of remedy. If 100% of of the people in our parishes are “wrestling with issues of sexuality” (and this I take to mean misusing their sexuality) - this is certainly true - then what is the solution? I would have a hard time dealing with a position that denied the power of God through his Spirit to bring direct healing to such individuals! Education, counselling, and other such things are indeed useful. But the ultimate answer to sin cannot lie within us.

Second, upon what authority can limits on sexuality be based? The “slippery slope” argument is routinely denounced by progressive voices. And their basic point is sound: approval of homosexuality does not necessarily lead to the approval of other expressions of sexuality. But this is true if and only if some external standard can be applied to the expression of human sexuality. If there is no external standard, then the fact that the slope is slippery is inconsequential compared to the fact that the surface is vertical!

Finally, that there are such radically different answers to the first two question afloat in TEC makes the job of living together very difficult. I am committed to the purpose of this site and I believe that being committed to one another in important. And I too believe that the Holy Spirit is directing and guiding us and will in the long run have His way. But the purposes and ways of that Spirit are tied together with the answers to the first two questions. I can be as committed as I want to be, but if you keep walking away from me, I will eventually let you go.

Randy+,

1.) Regarding Marcion: I would argue that Jesus is the ultimate revelation of God’s purpose in the world. We do not disregard scripture, but we interpret scripture through the Living Word, who is Jesus Christ. Most of Jesus’ religious critics took the word very seriously, but they did so in a way that hardened their hearts toward their neighbors and, therefore, missed the point. Jesus, our Savior and our Lord, is the point.

I agree with your first sentence and your second sentence. However, doing these things does not allow one to understand Jesus simply as exemplar; rather it calls one to read all of Scripture figurally. The conclusions you have drawn concerning things like the scope of God’s providence, the calling of sinners, etc, make Jesus exemplar, as you state. What your conclusions - using this method of reading Scripture - imply is that we can pick pieces from Scripture and create our own canon within the full canon of Scripture. In this scheme, we then are to use this self chosen canon of Scripture to govern our actions; we cut off the full canon and justifying it by saying that Jesus only addressed these particular issues, issues which we generalize in order to broadly fit our own circumstances. This leads to a sort of marcionite like reading, or perhaps a supercessionist reading of Scripture.   

2.)Regarding sexuality: Jesus seems unconcerned about criticisms that He is consorting with sinners and tax collectors. He points out that He came to save sinners. Most of us are hot to condemn the sins of those with whom we disagree, while disregarding our own sin. Homosexuality becomes a key issue because we who are not homosexuals can see ourselves as pure in to regard homosexuality. At the same time we live in a hypersexual culture, and we ignore the way sex and commerce interact in regard to heterosexuality. Heterosexual sin is much more pervasive than homosexual sin, yet we are not driving heterosexual sinners out of church.

We’re not driving homosexuals out of the church either; you’ve made a generalized statement based on a very inadequate assessment of the situation at hand. It is in fact the case that the majority of parishes in the Episcopal Church and of Anglican church of Canada are open to homosexuals, even in conservative parishes. Many Anglican/Episcopal churches in North America are openly in support of same sex relationships, while even many conservative parishes do not exclude gay people, but rather will not bless their same-sex relationships. There is a tremendous difference between accepting someone and condoning acts or allowing that someone to have acts blessed in God’s name that are determined, by the wider church, to be against the will of God for human sexual relationships as found in common discernment of the Scriptures. 

In my experience, the Holy Spirit transforms our lives in the work of sanctification which occurs inside the Christian community. All of us are in need of sanctification. All of us are sinful and rebellious in need of the redeeming work of the Holy Spirit. Once we admit this, it becomes much harder to identify one group of sinners in the Church who are not to be tolerated.

How does transformation occur when no limits are set upon our actions? We cannot refuse to make distinctions in our discernment of our acts; that is dangerous and preposterous from a Christian perspective. I am not saying that all limits are fixed or set in stone; rather our Anglican tradition is to continually bring the issues before us to God in our discernment of the Scriptures. But this can only be done when we agree to discern and abide by the decisions of our discernment together. Of course we are all sinners. This does not mean that we must then tolerate all sin! Quite the opposite if we wish to be transformed by God; we must in fact together call out and identify our sins, repent, find forgiveness and be reconciled so that we might grow in Christ.

4.) Jesus and the Church: The Church is the Body of Christ. Jesus and the Church are irrevocably united. The Church is Jesus’ creation and idea. I don’t believe that people in the Church—on whatever side on the issues being debated—do so out of malice or hate. I believe people genuinely believe that they are seeking to follow Jesus Christ.

I’m glad to hear this and, I would suggest, it requires then, that we not take actions that ‘rent the church asunder.’ This however, has happened obviously and there are consequences that follow. The consequences, and faithful ways of living those consequences before God have been well presented by Dr. Radner above.

5.) The shape of the debate: Yes, I agree that the way forward is through prayer, humility, and repentance. However, I believe that the way the debate is currently occurring is largely secular in nature. That is, we are quick to define the enemy and engage in vilification of persons.

I am in great agreement with you on this count, at least in North America.

Hello all!

I don’t wonder if we would be loathe to admit that the current strife in the Communion isn’t having an effect on the attitude some parishes have towards homosexuals. It seems to me completely appropriate to remember both of the points being made here: that we are all sinners, and that sometimes parishes have used the polemics as a reason to become defensive against the presence of homosexual people in the church. Certainly not all “conservative” churches do this, but I do think it is something to keep a guard up against. We can never forget to offer the same community of faith to others that Jesus offered us while we were (are) still in sin too.

However, to write off the “issue” of sexuality as not-so-important seems a pretty grave blunder. What rarely gets talked about in discussions about sexuality in the church (except for writings like Pope John Paul II’s Theology of the Body) is that when we talk about sexuality we are really talking about creation and our physicality as human beings. Sexuality, at is roots, is creation theology, and the right order of creation in light of Christ incarnate. God is love, but God is an incarnate, historic, particular God, too. If we throw away sexuality debates we are throwing away the church’s understanding of what creation is for, what our bodies are for, and, in the end, the incarnate Christ. Perhaps much of our talking past one another, anger and frustration comes out of not adequately addressing this basic theology. Maybe the blessing of this will be a strengthened sense of creation theology, and thus theology of the body, in light of God of Man.

Peace,
Leigh

Randy+ (and all) -

2. Sex does not seem to be high on Jesus’ list of priorities. He does not attempt to maintain his “purity” in regard to sexuality. Instead he consorts with the impure and is more focused on their needs than on his purity—woman taken in adultery, woman at the well, woman with the issue of blood.

I wonder: can we really get a “list of priorities” from the Gospels?  I find the claim that Jesus had little interest in sexuality simply baffling as it assumes that the Gospels were written as systematic treatises which intended to convey all of Jesus’ thoughts about any given topic.  Yet, we all know at this point in the history of Biblical criticism that the Gospels do very, very little to paint anything more than a rough historical sketch of Jesus.  So, why should we assume that the Gospels give us any important insights into Jesus’ views on sexuality?  Indeed, why assume that the Gospels give us any important insights into Jesus’ views on, e.g., environmental degradation?  Surely, no one would say, “Well, Jesus doesn’t seem to say much about environmental degradation, so we therefore don’t have to think critically about it or make any commitments on point.”  Jesus never address all sorts of things - does that mean, however, that they are unimportant?  Surely, the answer is ‘no!’  Using the Gospels for an end that they were not written to address (in this case, sexuality, although we could be talking about myriad other topics) is really just a thin form of proof-texting.  It appeals to those who are already inclined to embrace the conclusion of the argument, but the logic itself is non-existent.

I simply don’t accept the idea that Christian commitments should be circumscribed by what is absent from the four Gospels (and pitting the Gospels against the rest of Scripture is surely odd, although convenient, at least in this instance).  A Gospel-based anti-intellectualism is kind of like…evangelical anti-intellectualism, if we think about it.  And surely, that is not something we want to aspire to?

From Benjamin, with which I agree assuming a typo in the penultimate line and that life should be like.

I simply don’t accept the idea that Christian commitments should be circumscribed by what is absent from the four Gospels (and pitting the Gospels against the rest of Scripture is surely odd, although convenient, at least in this instance).  A Gospel-based anti-intellectualism is kind of life…evangelical anti-intellectualism, if we think about it.  And surely, that is not something we want to aspire to?

Some follow on points -
1.  Jesus was very specific about marriage and thus I like Leigh’s point above

Sexuality, at is roots, is creation theology, and the right order of creation in light of Christ incarnate.

2.  Why should discussion be simply from the Gospels?  Our Anglican formularies regard the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments as “God’s Word Written.”  Scripture as a whole is abundantly clear about sexual behavior as to what s acceptable and what is forbidden.
3.  The New Testament, and I take Jesus attitude and fellowship with the “impure” as the starting point, is focused on redemption through the Atonement and then the pursuit of Holiness in the power of the indwelling Holy Spirit.  Thus the holiness code is transformed in the New Testament so far as things like the dietary codes; meanwhile the ethical and moral codes are in fact made stricter, as in the Sermon on the Mount.
4.  IMHO there is also a liberal anti-intellectualism which is quick to dismiss intellectual argument, discussion, dialog that does not begin with their precious presuppositions.  Any discussion must be willing to examine presuppositions, from what ever quarter.  On the other hand we as Christians base our beliefs on God’s revelation.  This makes some truths absolute for us!  This opens up another thread for discussion.  Or perhaps returns us to Ephraim’s thesis. Notwithstanding issues of staying or departure.

In sum, the conditions for a consensus-building Indaba are probably not present within Anglicanism on the hard question of sexuality.

typo corrected!