When I ponder things like the need for clean water around the world, preventable disease, the U.S. and world economies, war, genocide, drugs, child soldiers, treatment of women and a host of other troubles on this planet, it still stuns me that opening the door for LGBT people to have full access to all orders of the Episcopal Church is such a big “problem.”  I guess it’s like legalizing marriage for us.  Seriously?  Stopping us is worth all this money and effort?  More than stopping those other things?

Must be we’re more powerful than all those other things, huh?  Otherwise, why would people bother?

Anyhow, here are a few excellent links if you want to learn more:

The Episcopal Life Online report of yesterday’s vote in the House of Bishops.

A Guardian (U.K.) report on the Archbishop’s “regret” over the U.S. position.

The Times (London) report that schism is now “inevitable.”

Actually, though I joke about how much power we have to be the cause of all this trouble, the sad truth is really about the power of hate and fear.   Here’s hoping the House of Deputies stand strong in the face of threats and votes to finalize this thing with the same 2 to 1 margin they did on Sunday.  It will be an interesting day.

This could be big–the bishops, after slightly amending the resolution that would open all orders of the Episcopal church to all the baptized (read:  let partnered GLBT people become bishops), passed the resolution by a resounding 99-45-2!!!!!!

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.

Here’s the lead paragraph from an Integrity press release about the goings on at the Episcopal Convention:

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

ANAHEIM, CA (July 12, 2009)–In a special session today, the House of Deputies of the Episcopal Church approved a resolution, 151 to 66, which effectively overrides the three-year ban on gay bishops within the church. The gently-worded resolution, DO25, affirms Episcopal membership in the Anglican Communion while declaring that all orders of ministry, including the episcopate, are open to the LGBT baptized of the church.

There was a 2/3 majority in both the lay people and the clergy on this vote.  HUUZZAAH!

The House of Deputies is the legislative body at this convention elected to represent the people of each diocese in the United States.  There are thousands of them.  And such a resounding vote of support from the people of the church!   The world is certainly changing.

Next, the way things go in the Episcopal Church, the House of Bishops has to approve anything passed by the deputies, no matter what the percentage of deputies in support.  It’s worth noting that the Bishops aren’t elected by their people to represent them in policy-making, and have no restrictions on their participation.  They get to go back to each convention and vote time and again, whether their people like what they do or not.  So, it will be very interesting to see how they respond to such a clear message from the people of the church.

Here’s hoping the resounding support from the people of the church will embolden the bishops who have remained silent or unsure to rise and speak and help the church move forward.  Having a mainstream religious institution in America stand up and truly welcome LGBT folks will have an enormous positive ripple effect on human rights as a whole in our nation and in the world.

But in terms of knowing how the  world is changing, the deputies’ votes have said plenty–at least to my heart.  No matter what the bishops do to the institution, my being is lightened today knowing that most of the church’s people clearly have opened their hearts to me and mine.  That’s something to celebrate.

As a writer, I’m captivated and thrilled by what I’ve just learned about Harvard University’s public narrative process.  Anything with “narrative” in the title gets my attention.  Fancy word for storytelling, right?  I’m a novelist and a lover of books, movies, television and long talks with friends.  I love storytelling.  So when I saw a mention of this process, I read a little more.  Here, Harvard’s Marshall Ganz explains it:

“Narrative, story telling, is how we learn to access the courage to confront the unknown, to make choices to act upon them, choices informed not only by our head, but by our hearts,” Ganz said. “Narrative, then, is a way we can communicate our own values, experience the values that we share with one another and find the courage to confront challenges to those values that require action. Through public narrative, we learn to link our own calling to others, and action, in other words, it is a way to put Ubuntu into action.”  . . .  The art of public narrative includes the “story of self,” the “story of us” and the “story of now.”

Ganz nails the power of storytelling:  “to access the courage” to live more fully as individuals and as members of community.  This is the reason I write and the reason I coach others who want to improve their storytelling.  Whether it’s “literature” or “genre fiction” or “memoir” or this sort of public narrative, the authentic telling and writing and reading of stories changes the world for the better.

This came to my attention (in an article from Episcopal Life Online) because the Episcopal Church is using the process during their General Convention to help people of many views come together in more open, authentic and productive ways.  There’s lots more info at the article if you’re interested.

I just read that a new poll, done by a conservative pollster no less, shows that six out of ten gay adults identify faith as an important part of their lives.  This may surprise some (I think it surprised the pollster) but I’m thinking, I knew that.  It’s one of the reasons I chose to write clerical mysteries for a lesbian press.  The books are funny, but they also involve parts of life that are pretty important to a lot of us.  Parts of life that don’t show up  much in an entertaining light.  Usually just the opposite:  mention “religion” and “homosexuals” in the same sentence and eyes roll.  People may even flee the area.  I can’t think of a better reason to put it smack at the center of funny, contemporary cozy mystery novels.

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.

One of the most interesting sources for LGBT news from the Episcopal Church’s General Convention will be Integrity’s convention portal.

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.

Why in heaven’s name am I writing about a heckuva big church meeting?

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.

In the continuing struggle to regain control of my blog from the evil Word Press upgrade that ate it alive, I confess, I broke down.  I called for help.  Since no human being is available to talk at Word Press, at least not that I could find, I called the support team at my webhost, hostmonster.  Even though Word Press 2.8’s failure to work was not their problem, I hoped someone on their team could talk me through a solution, perhaps reloading the old version of Word Press if that seemed best.

It took the young man literally less than three minutes after taking my password to say, “I can see your website dashboard just fine,” which of course made me want to tear my hair out.

“HOW can you see it if I can’t?”

“Well,” he asked, calm as a pumpkin, “what browser are you using?”

Are you kidding me?  BROWSER?  It’s not my browser!  It’s Word Press. Or so I thunk.  But I did as he asked and downloaded Firefox.

Guess what?  I can see my blog just peachy keen in Firefox.  And Chrome.  And Safari. But not in Internet Explorer.

“WHY?” I asked.  “What happened?  And why aren’t forty million other Word Press users who use IE freaking out like I was?”

“I don’t know.”  That seemed to satisfy him.

This strikes me as infinitely wacky.  Is that just because I’m over 40 and simply too old to accept the quirky jitters of computers?  I did my own computer programming training on punch cards, I admit.  It was a time when If/Then statements always made sense.  When 1+1=2 all the time, every time.  And if something went wrong with a computer, well, it was for some sort of reason.  It might take twenty solid hours to figure out that reason, but a reason existed.  Programs were a thing of beauty.  They fit.  They worked.  They made sense.

And of course my problem–and it is a life problem, some would say–is that I want to know why.  It’s asking “why” about the stuff of life that drives me to write.  It drives a lot of my life decisions.  My young techno-helper’s peace with his “I don’t know” stopped me short.

Dude, I thought, I wanna be like you.

So I’ve learned a lesson.  I won’t ever again spend a week trying to figure technological things out on my own.  I’m  a novelist, not a computer whiz.  And I’ll call for help earlier.  And keep that hosting service, God love ‘em.  They know the meaning of customer service, even for a middle aged broad like me!

Today I’m going to take a long walk and then try to do something so I can see–actually see–what I’m typing into my posts. Still typing blank entries–just watching the cursor move across the white space. I see that WordPress has created “Beta” updates of this 2.8 release. I wonder if uploading one of those will be better or worse than where I am now? Which is essentially nonfiunctional.

I’d rather be working on my next novel!

I’m feeling a little guilty about sounding like a whiner. Oh, to heck with it, I AM whining. I know it. This sort of technology frustration deserves a good whine. I promise no more whining after this.

So much for the supposed 24/7 support for which WordPress is famed. I can’t find a number or chat place to call. Nothing live. Just forums. Which I normally use, but this is crazy. Right now I’m typing to you all and I can’t see ANYTHING on my screen except the cursor moving. In a minute I’ll have to select all, and when the words are highlighted , then I can see. Then I’ll try to fix typos. Then I’ll post. Hours on forums, no help that isn’t techno speak. Is there a phone number? A live chat? A human somewhere? Anyone know?