Our church is notorious for defending itself from the charge that we don't know anything about the Bible by observing that major portions of the Book of Common Prayer are lifted directly from the Bible. That defense is true, by the way, and I always enjoy the startle of recognition when I run across a familiar phrase in the Bible.
But the scale of the mismatch is dramatic. Episcopalians often have vast portions of the prayer book memorized, but I'd venture to guess there's not a hafiz among us. And my good buddy Pastor Amy, whose pew I almost always sit in front of at mass because her great singing makes me think that mine is good as well, remarks not infrequently about the lack of Bibles in our pews. Not surprisingly, she's a former Baptist. She also has a point.
So it was a little unusual that the Acts 8 Moment gathering last night began with a Bible study. In this case, we used the method Grace Church Chicago uses at their Wednesday noon eucharists, reading the passage aloud multiple times, then doing an informal reflection on it together. In this case it was (surprise!), a selection from the eighth chapter of Acts:
The detail of the apostles staying in Jerusalem while everyone else scatters is all too easy to dwell on. After all, bishops today are seen as the spiritual descendants of the apostles. And in the face of a changing environment in Jerusalem, the apostles were unable or unwilling to adapt. At a place like General Convention, with its often low-stakes politics in a high-stakes environment, the temptation to blame can be irresistible. Just check the #gc77 hashtag on Twitter to see the snark directed at just about everyone.
Leave that aside. The cool part of this passage is that while church leaders dithered at 815...ahem, I mean, while the apostles buried their murdered brother Stephen in Jerusalem amid the ruins of the nascent church, the followers went out to the surrounding areas, not griping about how their dream was ruined, but proclaiming Jesus as messiah, and sharing news so good that the possessed were freed, and the sick were healed. And they did it on their own, not waiting for orders.
As one person at the gathering pointed out, this passage specifies that there was shrieking and who knows what manner of craziness going on in Samaria while this was happening. The people involved might have looked a little nuts.
What's clear from interpreting the current situation of the Episcopal Church through the lens of this package is that to a certain extent, what happens at General Convention doesn't matter to us today. Ask yourself what could possibly happen at this convention that would reverse the trends facing the church. Not much. I'm pounding the table for a decent budget at both the diocesan and national level. A well allocated budget can help us express our mission writ large. But ultimately misallocated resources at this level are mostly a drag on what happens at the parish level, not the root cause of the church's problems.
The legislation on the table this week regarding transgender inclusion, a repudiation of the odious doctrine of discovery, and authorizing same-sex blessings are all good things as far as they go. But the resolutions in question have no practical effect unless congregations take them seriously. Besides, two of the three can be accomplished without authorization from the convention at the discretion of the parish, and on the third (same-sex blessings), these have been occuring in defiance of, with the tacit approval of, or without the knowledge of bishops for decades.
If we're waiting around for General Convention to save us, we better get a comfortable chair (I like obscenely large sectional sofas). Alternatively, General Convention be damned, we can start doing this stuff ourselves. Watch the video below and hear the dreams of the church. Then list the ones that require the General Convention or your diocesan bishop, hell, even your rector, to make it happen. Trust me, it'll be a short list.
[As a final note...I've been harder on bishops in this post than they deserve. First, I counted four of them at the Acts 8 gathering last night. Second, I frame things this way in service of the larger point that lay people don't need to wait around for anyone. Bishops connect us back to the historical touch of Jesus, true, but that purple shirt doesn't make them the boss of us.]
But the scale of the mismatch is dramatic. Episcopalians often have vast portions of the prayer book memorized, but I'd venture to guess there's not a hafiz among us. And my good buddy Pastor Amy, whose pew I almost always sit in front of at mass because her great singing makes me think that mine is good as well, remarks not infrequently about the lack of Bibles in our pews. Not surprisingly, she's a former Baptist. She also has a point.
So it was a little unusual that the Acts 8 Moment gathering last night began with a Bible study. In this case, we used the method Grace Church Chicago uses at their Wednesday noon eucharists, reading the passage aloud multiple times, then doing an informal reflection on it together. In this case it was (surprise!), a selection from the eighth chapter of Acts:
That day a severe persecution began against the church in Jerusalem, and all except the apostles were scattered throughout the countryside of Judea and Samaria. Now those who were scattered went from place to place, proclaiming the workd. Philip went down to the city of Samaria and proclaimed the Messiah to them. The crowds with one accord listened eagerly to what was said by Philip, hearing and seeing the signs that he did, for unclean spirits, crying out with loud shrieks, came out of many who were possessed; and many others who were paralyzed or lame were cured. So there was great joy in that city.It doesn't take much imagination to see the parallels between the first part of this passage and the issues facing the Episcopal church. Until the last couple of decades we were an establishment church with a headquarters in the center of power of our day. Today, we're aging and shrinking. We used to command a cultural influence disproportionate to our size. It is no longer clear that is the case.
The detail of the apostles staying in Jerusalem while everyone else scatters is all too easy to dwell on. After all, bishops today are seen as the spiritual descendants of the apostles. And in the face of a changing environment in Jerusalem, the apostles were unable or unwilling to adapt. At a place like General Convention, with its often low-stakes politics in a high-stakes environment, the temptation to blame can be irresistible. Just check the #gc77 hashtag on Twitter to see the snark directed at just about everyone.
Leave that aside. The cool part of this passage is that while church leaders dithered at 815...ahem, I mean, while the apostles buried their murdered brother Stephen in Jerusalem amid the ruins of the nascent church, the followers went out to the surrounding areas, not griping about how their dream was ruined, but proclaiming Jesus as messiah, and sharing news so good that the possessed were freed, and the sick were healed. And they did it on their own, not waiting for orders.
As one person at the gathering pointed out, this passage specifies that there was shrieking and who knows what manner of craziness going on in Samaria while this was happening. The people involved might have looked a little nuts.
What's clear from interpreting the current situation of the Episcopal Church through the lens of this package is that to a certain extent, what happens at General Convention doesn't matter to us today. Ask yourself what could possibly happen at this convention that would reverse the trends facing the church. Not much. I'm pounding the table for a decent budget at both the diocesan and national level. A well allocated budget can help us express our mission writ large. But ultimately misallocated resources at this level are mostly a drag on what happens at the parish level, not the root cause of the church's problems.
The legislation on the table this week regarding transgender inclusion, a repudiation of the odious doctrine of discovery, and authorizing same-sex blessings are all good things as far as they go. But the resolutions in question have no practical effect unless congregations take them seriously. Besides, two of the three can be accomplished without authorization from the convention at the discretion of the parish, and on the third (same-sex blessings), these have been occuring in defiance of, with the tacit approval of, or without the knowledge of bishops for decades.
If we're waiting around for General Convention to save us, we better get a comfortable chair (I like obscenely large sectional sofas). Alternatively, General Convention be damned, we can start doing this stuff ourselves. Watch the video below and hear the dreams of the church. Then list the ones that require the General Convention or your diocesan bishop, hell, even your rector, to make it happen. Trust me, it'll be a short list.
[As a final note...I've been harder on bishops in this post than they deserve. First, I counted four of them at the Acts 8 gathering last night. Second, I frame things this way in service of the larger point that lay people don't need to wait around for anyone. Bishops connect us back to the historical touch of Jesus, true, but that purple shirt doesn't make them the boss of us.]
Thanks for writing your impressions. I agree completely... there is no point waiting for others. For what matters most, we don't need permission, just people taking initiative. Also, many thanks to your diocese and for your dedication hosting this transformative GC.
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