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29
June 2008
Gay
Pride Sunday
The
Rev'd Lloyd Prator
New
York City
As we celebrate Gay Pride Sunday,
especially with the readings the church has given us, I think
it is perhaps useful to reflect upon the larger picture of
our Church, its situation in history and its circumstances
in this present time.
It is difficult to assess the significance of the historical
situation in which one finds oneself. It is easier to look
at the past and to see there the significant moments and movements
which have governed the story of the Church. For one thing,
if you study the past, you have more authorities upon which
to call and more footnotes you can cite. But, with that caveat
in mind, I want to say a few things today.
I thin this is a point of crisis for this church. In the international
scene, the western churches, those of England, America and
Canada, for example are declining in numbers and influence.
The churches in Africa are growing and thriving. But they
are doing so by condemning the American and Canadian and English
church for, among other things, our decision to include gay
people in the life and in the ministry of the church —
especially in the ministry. In the domestic scene, we face
division, schism and departure. Most of you know our church
is divided into geographical divisions called dioceses, and
now, one of those dioceses has left the church to ally itself
with a conservative African Church. In another diocese, on
one day two years ago, that diocese lost eleven of its biggest
churches — congregations that voted to separate themselves
from the Episcopal Church.
It is difficult to see into the future and determine the lay
of the ecclesiastical land there. Certainly, parishes like
St. John’s, which have resolved the issues of sexuality
for our own life, are not leaving the Episcopal Church. Parishes
like ours, which are independent, stable, and thriving are
capable of going on as we have, loyal to the Bishop of New
York and to the Church in the United States. We can go on
as we have, and as long as I am the rector of this parish,
that is what we will do.
We do this because we are being faithful. I am not accusing
the dissenters of being faithless, that would be an act of
selfish pride and a judgment best reserved to God. But we
are struggling to be faithful as we see and understand the
faith and apply its requirements to our life. Micah the prophet
said that the people of God are called to do justice, to love
mercy and to walk humbly with God. A better ecclesiastical
life plan I cannot imagine.
We are being faithful to a church that is in the midst of
a huge, almost immeasurable seismic shift in thinking. But
it is not the first time we have made a huge shift in our
thinking about God and his requirements for being faithful.
The first reading and the second reading today, refer to two
earlier seismic shifts that I, perhaps somewhat presumptuously,
compare to the movements in our own time.
I refer to the story of the sacrifice of Isaac in Genesis,
the sacrifice that did not happen. In this story, Abraham
is called to be faithful and to do the unthinkable, to kill
his son, his son Isaac who was the very tangible sign of his
covenant with God. At the last minute, a ram was provided
for the sacrifice. While this was certainly not good news
for the ram, the substitution represented a major change in
our understanding of the nature of God. The God who had been
a demander of blood sacrifice turned into a God who, instead,
demanded an ethical life, faith that sought to know God’s
mind within human history, and piety that supported that new
way of life. This is such a major change, it was almost as
if on that day, trudging up the mountain, Abraham met a new
God. It was a major seismic shift in our understanding of
God.
A couple of millennia passed, as they do. And in the second
reading, written in the early first century, we met Paul the
Apostle. Paul was the giant of Christian theologians, the
one who most clearly understood the major seismic shift inherent
in Jesus. The transition that Paul calls us to make is no
less cataclysmic. It is the shift which makes Christians no
longer the follower of laws which they hope will lead to salvation,
but makes them a community seeking to be incorporated into
Christ, to become a new body, to have a new body, and to live
in a new way. You were once slaves to sin, he points out in
the reading today, and elsewhere he says that religious law,
and its very holiness only serves to make us feel inadequate.
So Paul suggests this: Jesus fulfilled the law by completing
it, perfecting it, and living within it. And he does this
for us, on our behalf. He does for us what we could not do.
And then gives that perfection to us as a gift.
What a huge change in the religious worldview! Amazing new
ay of looking at the world.
I would argue that we are on the brink of a similar change.
It has to do with authority. Sometimes I feel little pangs
of guilt for my own part in bringing the church to look in
a different way about homosexuality. By arguing for a full
inclusion of gay men and lesbians — what have I, and
all the others who argued the way we did, and voted the way
we did, what have se set in motion? The answer however is
that this is not really an issue about homosexuality. Homosexuality
happens to be the presenting symptom as physicians say, but
the deeper controversy is authority. And that issue goes back
a hundred years or so. It goes back to and finds its origin
in a new way of thinking about scripture. We Anglicans have,
for the most part, at least in the west, embraced the historical
critical view of scripture. Not the literal view. That means
that we apply the tools of linguistic study, textual criticism,
social and cultural evaluation and literary style. We still
take scripture seriously, it still governs and shapes our
lives, but we do not take it literally. And we do think of
it as a mixed bag with degrees of imperative priority. We
are willing to set aside, say, the requirement that we kill
disobedient teenagers; we give more eternal value to lines
like those in the gospel which talk about giving a cup of
cold water to those who are thirsty after a day of gospel
proclamation.
Our church has faced many crises in its life. Early in English
history, the Church was so tiny and far away that it was nearly
wiped out by Norse invaders. In the 17th century, our Church
went underground, as the catholic faith of Anglicanism became
illegal at the time of the commonwealth when the monarchy,
along with the church, was suspended. In 19th century England,
the Hanoverian church, dry and arid in its intellectual life
and dusty and grim in its liturgy, nearly rotted away under
the leadership of absentee rectors and indifferent bishops.
In our own land, we struggled for a century with no bishops,
no confirmations, no ordinations, before we organized at the
first independent Anglican church outside the British Isles.
WE have had our dark moments before.
Of all the theological ideas which might give us light for
these hard times, I think the best is, perhaps one which Paul
alludes to in today’s reading from Romans, and which
he develops more elaborately later on. He talks about presenting
ourselves to Christ, as a slave to Jesus the Lord. Presenting
ourselves. In these difficult times, it is my conviction that
God has a purpose for this church and we will discern that
when we turn down the volume on the resounding controversies
around us. Turn down the volume of the shrieking and posturing,
and present ourselves to Christ. Confident that he will take
us,, reform us, correct us, and lead us into all truth —
including those aspects of the truth which are better articulated
by our contemporary opponents.
And one day, the speculations of theology can come to an end.
And we will be swallowed up in the mystery of God that our
scriptures strive, however imperfectly to portray. And we
will be enfolded in love, love so deep, so broad and so high,
that no one, no, not a soul, will stop to consider whether,
int his world, we have loved one who is a man or a woman.
What will count is that we have loved, not
whom we have loved.
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