Shawn,
You will have to ask Dr. Turner whether that is what he meant. But I think he was thinking in terms of the community’s claim that its acts are prophetic, not Bishop Gene’s act.  But the thing about prophecy is that it is not the individual who evaluates whether or not he or she is a prophet, but the community of faith in exercising his duty to “Yes” or “No.”  Some there may be acts that result in suffering that are not prophetic; there may be acts that result in suffering that are prophetic and yet result in that communal “No!”; and there may be acts that are prophetic that ultimately result in the communal “Yes!”

I understand the holiness code in Leviticus was not added until after the scathing prophetic critique of the Isaiahic school.  It takes quite a long time, usually, before we are able to look back and determine which of the three categories I mention describe a particular event. I think the criterion for knowing that we have encountered truth is that it results in peace (Acts 15 - and I am echoing Luke Timothy Johnson here).  We are not there yet.  I think it is way too soon for us to answer your question, no matter how close the pain may be for us on a personal level right now.

Shawn—My previous reply was posted before I saw your exchange with Craig.  The horrific actions you cite are indeed the sort of reactions that one might expect to see perpetrated against righteous witness.  The test, however, is whether people who will not benefit from the vindication of one side or the other are horrified by the injustices.  Even then, the horror may be limited to the unrighteousness of those who perpetrate violence, and may not in and of themselves vindicate the righteousness of the actions that triggered the violence.  It’s very messy.

The Anglican Communion as a teaching body has been very clear that violence against people due to their sexual orientation is unjustifiable.  I wish that more conservatives held that line—I don’t think it’s because they don’t believe it, but because they are distracted by the conflict and fall into dehumanizing traps…

Hi Fthr. Humphrey,

Thank you for your expanded explanation.  I must admit that I was getting a bit concerned that some were suggesting that unless one is martyred for their faith they are not a true prophet.  I quite agree that a prophet often walks a lonely and isolated life.  I also agree that we should be very careful to take on the mantle of a prophet.  It is all too easy for a prophet to lose sight of God and see only herself or himself.

I think you make a good point that the legislative process does involve a degree of violence.  Perhaps it is the lesser of several evils since the alternatives tend to be much more violent.  However, our Quaker brothers and sisters would suggest consensus as an even more nonviolent means.

Part of the “listening process” involves being willing to be present with the violence and pain that many have felt.  I am afraid that we all too often want to gloss over that and “just get on with it”.  I think this is the stage many are at in our current racial relations.  There’s a tendency to say, “Ok, we’ve already admitted that slavery was terrible.  Can we just move on?”  That isn’t listening.  The same is true for the gay and lesbian community.  We will not feel that we have been listened to until the violence and pain that we have endured is acknowledged.  True listening requires empathy, which unfortunately is sorely lacking on all sides right now!

In Christ,
Shawn

Hi Craig,

Thank you also for your continued explanation.  I also agree that we are far too close to the situation to make any such evaluations.

Fthr. Humphrey,

Unfortunately, one big lesson that the Holocaust taught us is our ability to ignore the most abominable acts occuring right next door to us.  As Craig says, with time, they are seen to be the horrific acts that they are.  However, even then, we still have to be vigilant to remind ourselves of those atrocities so we are less inclined to repeat them.

In Christ,
Shawn

The question I must ask is why, when Communion without baptism is specifically barred by canon in the Episcopal Church, to date there has not been a single instance, that I am aware of, of the enforcement of said canon?  If there was ever a case to be made of the “abandonment of the communion of this church”, communion without baptism would seem to be it.  But here, the person in the forefront of the movement has just been “elected” (in a one man election) bishop.  And, of course, a major proponent is now PB of TEC.

Sorry, but I was raised in the old school on these things, in the days when many TEC churches only communed confirmed Episcopalians.  I remember when “open communion” was allowing a converted Roman Catholic to receive before being formally received into the church by the bishop.

Canonical enforcement is a sticky wicket.  When conservatives have tried it in the past (e.g., Righter Trial), it has backfired.  Enforcement tends to be perceived as “heavy-handed” or “oppressive” or the objects of discipline are made out to be the victims of a “witch hunt.”  Sympathy often goes not to those trying to enforce the canons, but those who break them.  As a political strategy for holding the line, it doesn’t have legs.

The catechetical approach, wherein we try to move the hearts and minds of those open to receiving the teaching of the Church (not just TEC, but the ecumenical consensus) is where our focus should be—not on those who are committed to re-writing the canons, but on those bishops and deputies who might be persuaded that this would be a self-sabotaging act.

While I recognize that canon law can be difficult to enforce, the simple truth of the matter is that law must be enforced in any society - or else that society is, quite literally, lawless.  Although law can be abused, which is a problem, this is also why we have avenues of appeal so that the case may be re-considered.  This may not always be a perfect system of justice, but a neglect of the law is never justice at all.  Thus, those who are required to enforce the law must do so; otherwise, both the law and the institution itself lose all integrity and chaos irrupts.  This is precisely what happened in the high medieval period, and the Protestant reformers quite easily and quite rightly took aim at the sometimes egregious violations of canon law that were perpetuated by the papacy and other parts of the hierarchy.  The non-enforcement and the proactive subversion of the law on the part of the church’s hierarchy (whether then or now) creates a seedbed for discontent and revolution, particularly in its more lawless aspects.  History shows this time and time again.

The present madness in the Anglican Communion is in large part due to law not being followed, and even being subverted, by those who have agendas that they wish to deem as more important than anything else (and both liberals and evangelicals are equally guilty of this).  Leaders who cannot be trusted to follow the law or to enforce it will ultimately lose the respect of those that they are supposed to be leading, and the institution will simply fall apart.  The flagrant indifference to law - which is always already external to the self - only reinforces the Protestant and Cartesian conception of truth as fundamentally if not exclusively interior to the subject, and therefore without any space for communal or historical critique.  It is like an unimaginative gnosticism, stripped of its very interesting cosmologies!  In short, privatized religion is privative…

Truer words were never written.  But the pragmatist in me says:  How?

On a related note, I’ve been thinking of substitute language for the touchy-feely, but well-intentioned sentimental language (couched as “hospitality”) that one encounters in many Episcopal Churches today. 

Instead of saying, “All who are baptized or are seeking a deeper relationship with Christ are welcome to receive communion at the Lord’s table,” how about this?

“All baptized Christians are welcome to receive Communion at the Lord’s Table.  If you sincerely believe the Spirit of Christ is moving you to break this rule of our common life, you will not be denied access to our Lord, but after this service, you will be expected to enroll in Baptism preparation class with a member of the clergy.  The desire to partake of the Lord’s Body and Blood is a desire for full inclusion in the Body of Christ.  That full and radically life-changing inclusion happens through Baptism alone.  If, on the other hand, you are not receiving Communion, you are invited to come forward for a blessing (indicated by crossing your arms over your chest).”

Nathan+,
I am pretty sure your language approximates what Wesley did.

I put this on Facebook and a friend exclaimed, “The Wesleyan compromise!”

Another friend suggested toning it down as follows:

All baptized Christians are welcome to receive Communion at the Lord’s Table. If you sincerely believe the Spirit of Christ is moving you to break this rule of our common life, you will not be denied access to our Lord, but after this service, we urge you to meet with a member of the clergy. The desire to partake of the Lord’s Body and Blood is a desire for full inclusion in the Body of Christ. That full and radically life-changing inclusion happens through Baptism alone. If, on the other hand, you are not receiving Communion, you are invited to come forward for a blessing (indicated by crossing your arms over your chest).

I think the point is not to “protect” the Sacrament—Christ doesn’t need us to “protect” him—but to make the Sacrament the evangelical witness it is meant to be.  Wiggle room gets some people there.  I know that if I had not been granted access to Our Lord by being admitted to communion at an RC Benedictine monastery, I might not have taken the path I have…Of course, I was already baptized, but the issues are related between intercommunion and CWOB, as I’ve mentioned before…

I find the hospitality argument for open communion not adequately accountable biblically speaking.  There’s a longstanding tradition of seeing the table as a foretaste of the eschatological wedding supper.  That means Christ’s parable of the feast to which no one would come must be considered.  Certainly the “hospitable” thing to do would be to invite all to come who desire.  Yet in the parable, we cannot forget about the one who is not dressed in the wedding garments ends up being promptly thrown out of the party. 

If we consider baptism the mark of one who “puts on” Christ (thus, dressed appropriately for eternity before God’s table), then we cannot practice open communion without doing violence to the soul who partakes naked of the proper soteriological garments.  What kind of hospitality is it knowingly to surreptitiously serve crab dip to someone with a shellfish allergy?  In like manner, the unbaptized (or unconverted, if you want to give Wesley a pass with his “converting ordinance” idea) are surely invited to God’s table, but they must be dressed in the signs of faith and repentance we have received from the Church and continue to uphold.

Hi All,

As I said at the beginning of this discussion, I’m quite persuadable.  You all are doing a very good job.  Would any of you be willing to be the devil’s advocate and argue for the side of communion without baptism?  It seems I’m the only one that is a little left of center on this forum. 

In Christ,
Shawn

Hi Lenny,

I think your exegesis of the parable is solid, but we must beware of interpreting parables too rigidly.  We must assume that communion without baptism is indeed most likely putting the person’s soul at peril—which is why we should never offer it to the unbaptized.  At the same time, we must not assume that God cannot work in ways that we do not expect (or approve of); our assumptions must not stand in the way of a person’s access to God in the power of the Spirit.  Receiving the Sacrament when one is not properly disposed puts one in peril whether one is baptized or not, after all, but I cannot assume that an unbaptized person is less properly disposed than a baptized person in a state of mortal sin, for example.  I cannot say that an unbaptized person is properly disposed at all, which is why I would never explicitly invite someone to partake who has not been born into the Family.  But I can’t rule out that God has the freedom to act in ways contrary to my tidy theological systems.  The Bible in both the OT and the NT show time and again that God brings people into communion in the most surprising ways, and redeems even the most imperfect intentions. 

The parable cannot be interpreted as setting down a fixed Law, for the letter of the Law kills, as Paul teaches.  Rather, the parable shows that putting on Christ is the prerequisite to access to the Marriage Feast of the Lamb, but the wedding garment cannot be interpreted as solely representing baptism.  That’s not how parables work, with simple 1:1 ratios in meaning.  Parables are not allegories with one interpretation but are riddles about God’s grace in action.  “Putting on Christ” is primarily through baptism and baptism is the outward and visible sign to the community that one has put on Christ, but the Acts of the Apostles tells stories of people whose conversions came in stages (the people who knew the baptism of John but not of Christ, e.g.).  We must be sensitive to following God’s lead.

My objection to CWOB is that it is hubristic.  Those who advocate CWOB take the lead and think that by declaring the Sacrament to be capable of serving such a “converting” function without baptism that it is so all the time.  But this is an assumption that is not backed up by evidence, and against which the Christian tradition of initiation with its emphasis on “discerning the Body” stands.  At the same time, we cannot be rigorist and say that it cannot be so, because to say this is also hubristic:  we would be saying, in effect, that God never works that way; that it is impossible for the Spirit to move a person towards baptism in this way.  Anecdotal evidence points to the contrary conclusion.  Yet it is taking that evidence too far to suggest that CWOB could always act that way.

So while I am against CWOB as policy because it is profoundly theologically deficient for the reasons you point out, I cannot rule out the Spirit’s freedom in this regard.  My concern is to let the Spirit be the Spirit, and for us to be faithful disciples in baptizing all people in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit…at the earliest possible opportunity!

Hi Shawn,

I’ll try to dig one up for you.  In the meantime, check out this string of posts from Anglican Scotist:

http://anglicanscotist.blogspot.com/2007_07_01_archive.html

NH+