Hooray.  Convention ends in a few hours.

Nice wrap-up from Integrity here.

She gives a fascinating overview of the global and racial issues so entangled with the treatment of LGBT people both in the Episcopal Church and the worldwide Anglican Communion.

A snippet:

By pitting marginalized groups like gays and Africans against each other, the Church masks the geopolitics of race and power while bating homophobia.

Worth the read.

As I understand it, this is a formalized stating of what is already a sort of “don’t ask, don’t tell” practice of the church, allowing individual bishops to decide if they will do this or not in their diocese.

Passage of this is a huge step; as we know from watching the situation regarding the U.S. military, it can be hard for an institution to publically claim the values it actually practices.  I bet many of us can think of examples from our own lives–I know I can.

What will the ripple effects of all this be–not only in the Anglican Communion–but for LGBT rights (and rites) everywhere?  It will be interesting to see!

The Lead at Episcopal Cafe lists various press sources.  Here’s the New York Times.

The Walking with Integrity Blog calls it “generous pastoral response.”

Ripple effect.

According to the New York Times,

The battle over homosexuality in the Episcopal Church has been watched closely by other mainline Protestant churches that are also divided internally on the issue. Many are looking to the Episcopal Church as a bellwether that could foretell whether their denominations can survive the storm over homosexuality intact.

And if not intact–which implies without change–then broken, perhaps like Christ himself, to rise anew with grace and power and light.  (Good God, did I write that?  That makes me sound darned churchy after all!  I’m channeling Lonnie Squires today, evidently.)

Intact isn’t the highest good.  And those watching will see the outcome immediately and over time and learn the blessing that full inclusion will be.

Maybe I should run and write one of Lonnie’s sermons while I’m in a theological frame o’ mind!

HUZZZAH AGAIN!

Because they amended it, the House of Deputies must vote on it and pass it, but if they do that (probably tomorrow), it will be a  done deal!

But I’m not counting that chicken.  What will the opposition do overnight to derail justice?  Will it stop forward motion like it did three years ago?  As thrilled as I am about the bishops, it ain’t over ’til it’s over and it ain’t over yet . . .

Want details?  Check out the update from Integrity and the Live Blog from Episcopal Cafe.

That said, it’s also serious stuff because religion impacts so much of our experiences of our civil rights in this country and in the world.  So I’m going to keep blogging about the Episcopal Church convention because it’s big news for all us no matter who we are.  Just like the victory for gay rights in India is a victory for all of us Americans.   The ripple effect is important, I think.

Yesterday Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori addressed the full convention at the General Convention of the Episcopal Church.  You can find the text online here and I recommend it for anyone of any faith or no faith interested in finding out how at least one religious leader is talking about going forward.  It’s a far cry from the vitriolic right-wing stuff that grabs so much media attention.  You might find it a breath of fresh air.

Reading the talk reminded me that the struggle for GLBT human rights in every state and nation and church and school exists in the greater context of all of us caring for all of us, of all of us as “stewards of the whole.”  Care must be taken of all of life, from GLBT humans, to those living in poverty and war, to those out of work, to the animals and seas.  The whole of creation. Schori indicated that as the attendees considered “the needs of the poorest around us, and the inclusion of those who do not have full access to the life of this Church” they should keep in mind the convention’s theme:  “Ubuntu.”  Desmond Tutu brought this term into popular use as he worked for truth and reconciliation in South Africa after the end of apartheid.

“Africans have this thing called UBUNTU. It is about the essence of being human, it is part of the gift that Africa will give the world. It embraces hospitality, caring about others, being able to go the extra mile for the sake of others. We believe that a person is a person through another person, that my humanity is caught up, bound up, inextricably, with yours.  When I dehumanise you, I inexorably dehumanise myself. The solitary human being is a contradiction in terms and therefore you seek to work for the common good because your humanity comes into its own in belonging”.

Wow.  Wouldn’t it be cool if every church in the world hung that from a banner or a sign for all to see?  Think how that would change the world, even for those who don’t participate in religion at all?

There’s a lot of interesting stuff going on in this convention that can benefit all of us, regardless of our own faith beliefs or sexual orientation.   Words and wisdoms we can use in our own contexts to improve all of us–GLBT and humanity as a whole.

Integrity identifies itself this way:

Since 1974, integrity has been a faithful witness of God’s inclusive love to the Episcopal Church and the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender community.  We are working for the full inclusion of all the baptized in all the sacraments.

This portal provides links to  updates, tweets, blogs and so forth on stuff of specific interest to the LGBT community.

For more general information, check out the Episcopal Church’s main website.  Note the big banner claiming the church “welcomes you.”  Here’s hoping that is soon true.

Well, because one of the main reasons I chose to focus my mystery series around the life of a lesbian Episcopal priest stems from my witnessing of the LGBT community’s struggles for full inclusion in the Episcopal Church.  I’m not a particularly churchy person, though I believe I am a faithful one.  However, I have several close friends who are churchy–who, in fact, are priests.  And gay.   And while I have not cared much about what churches officially think of me in decades (because I long ago gave them up as hubs for judgmental hazing), my friends do care.  So I started paying attention.

Six years ago, I visited the convention just as Gene Robinson’s election as Bishop of New Hampshire was confirmed.  Many of you know Gene is the first openly gay person to reach that office and his selection as bishop kicked off a firestorm of anti-gay sentiment around the globe.  But on the evening in which he celebrated his first Eucharist as the newly confirmed Bishop-Elect, I stood in the crowd and wept.  My emotions stunned me.  I didn’t think I cared.  I’m still not particularly churchy, but it is an amazing thing to walk into a place that has always “hated” you and realize here, now, you are not hated.  I think that was the first time in my life I stood inside a mainline Christian church that had accepted me and others like me, without any “love the sinner, hate the sin” caveats.

Three years ago I witnessed the election of Katharine Jefferts Schori as Presiding Bishop, the first female “primate” of the Anglican Communion.  It kicked off a firestorm of anger around the globe.   I was also present as the governing bodies debated–often in horrific hate-filled terms–the full inclusion of baptized LGBT folks in the sacraments of the church.  That was the first time I’d ever been in a room with that level of hate (I guess I can count myself lucky that until then I’d only seen it on TV.)  In my opinion, there was little of the Good News of the Gospel evident in what transpired for LGBT folks as the delegates adopted a moratorium on giving full inclusion to the LGBT community.  We wept again, only this time in sadness at the victory of hate and fear and sin.  Change had seemed so possible; hope made the continued discrimination even more horrible to bear.

It was after this experience that I decided to write about a priest wrestling with these issues in her own life, trying so very very hard to be a person of faith holding to a religion which she just knows grows from something other than the narrowness that defines it for so many.  I actually dreamt about Lonnie Squires and the folks of Middelburg.  They came swirling whole out of the mists of my own life-long querulous relationship with the church. I’d like to be contented with religion some day.  I’d like for it to be contented with me.  But maybe that’s not how dynamic spirituality works.  I don’t know.  That’s why I explore it through Lonnie’s investigations of mysteries.

So, I look forward to this next triennial convention with no expectations for a good or a bad outcome for the LGBT faithful.  I only know that heroes will step forward again, working to change the world.  That hate and love will clash, both in the name of Christ.  That hearts will be wrung out and broken no matter what happens.  Everyone cannot be kept happy.  So what “good” will those in power choose?  What will the nature of the “loss” be?  Will some be kept out so that others will continue to come?  Or will all be invited, perhaps moving others to choose to leave?

To me, these are easy questions and the path that should be chosen is clear.  I’d be a lousy politician in a situation like this convention.  But that’s why I’m a novelist and others, thank God, are doing the hard work of transforming hearts and minds right there in the Anaheim Convention Center.  I’m not going this year, by the way.  I don’t think I could take it if things go badly.  I can’t stand watching my friends’ hearts broken again in the name of Christ.  Those who are there are so very much braver than I!

In my next post, I’ll list some websites of interest in case you want to keep up on all of this with me.

This book plays with genres and points of view in remarkable ways.  Set in Revolutionary War Boston, author M. T. Anderson uses the genres popular in the day to tell this tale.  His control of those and of point of view is seamless.  You don’t realize how well you’ve been treated as a reader until you’re done with the story and reflect on it.

The book also raises wonderful questions–questions absolutely still alive today–regarding freedom, liberty, selling the rights of a marginalized group for political gain, rationality, education, and the dignity of human beings.  Everyone should read it.  I’m surprised it’s classified as a “young adult” book; it felt as adult as anything I’ve read.  There’s much for me to learn from it as a citizen, as someone concerned with justice, and as an author.

I think I’ll read it again before I have to return it.  And get Volume II on my wish list as well!