Budgets, Decline, and Mission–The current meeting of the Executive Council of the Episcopal Church

Word came yesterday that Executive Council was presented with two competing proposals for the budget for the next three years (Triennium). One used 19% asking from the dioceses; the other 15%. Today, via twitter, I followed the debate at a distance. It’s similar to the debate that has been going on on the diocesan level as well as in parishes. As membership and attendance decline, how do we maintain our buildings, ministry, and mission?

There was a stark portrayal of the extent of decline by Kirk Hadaway. The full presentation is available here: ExecCncl_012712_FINAL

There’s a great deal to digest in this report, including a decline in membership from over 2.4 million in 1992 to under 2 million today. And this, between 2002 and 2010:

• Change in church school enrollment: -33%
• Change in number of marriages performed: -41%
• Change in number of burials/funerals: -21%
• Change in the number of child baptisms: -36%
• Change in the number of adult baptisms: -40%
• Change in the number of confirmations: -32%

Even more scary, for every church that was started between 1999 and 2009, 2.5 closed. There are maps of the country that show the relative growth and decline among dioceses, comparisons with other mainline denominations (and even the Southern Baptist Convention, which has seen membership decline for the first time in recent years).

But there are other ways to parse that data, and larger issues, as well. I read an article yesterday about America’s permanent dead zones, defined by the authors as areas where the unemployment rate has been at least 2% above the national average for the last 5, 10, or 20 years. It’s a fascinating read, and it would be interesting to compare the geography of the dead zones with the areas of decline in the Episcopal Church. For example, among the towns listed as dead zones are a series of towns in the Diocese of Upper South Carolina–Gaffney, Greenwood, Union, Chester, Lancaster, Seneca, Sumter. Some of these towns have thriving Episcopal churches; others don’t. By contrast, not a single city in that diocese is included in the list of prosperous zones. The diocese of Milwaukee seems not to have any dead zones, and Madison is listed as a prosperous zone. My question is: to what extent is growth in the Episcopal Church linked to those “prosperous zones”?

Here’s today’s report from Executive Council, contributed by Episcopal News Service.

If this is any indication, it’s going to be an interesting few months leading up to General Convention.

More hijinx in Anglicanland

The General Synod of the Church of England will be meeting next month. It offers to be fun for those of us interested in matters Anglican. The big issue will be the ordination of women bishops. In the run-up to the meeting, various reports and position papers will be produced. Just released is a document published with the signatures of the Archbishops of Canterbury and York discussing the relationship of the CoE and the Anglican Church of North America. This was produced in response to a motion that originally was intended to express the CoE’s ongoing commitment to relationship with ACNA. Here’s the document: gs misc 1011 – acna

It’s short, rather odd and a classic example of episcopal (i.e, of bishops, not of our church) fence-sitting:

18. We would, therefore, encourage an open-ended engagement with ACNA on the part of the Church of England and the Communion, while recognising that
the outcome is unlikely to be clear for some time yet, especially given the strong feelings on all sides of the debate in North America.

19. The Church of England remains fully committed to the Anglican Communion and to being in communion both with the Anglican Church of Canada and the Episcopal Church (TEC). In addition, the Synod motion has given Church of England affirmation to the desire of ACNA to remain in some sense within the Anglican family.

Just what is the ACNA? And in what way is it Anglican in structure and polity? Mark Harris goes through some of the jurisdictional quagmire that exists among the dissenting Anglican communities in North America here.

Of course the core problem is that ACNA, CANA, AMiA, ex Recife, all believe these interventions by Provinces in the jurisdiction of The Episcopal Church and the Anglican Church of Canada are “jurisdictional participation in a way that is fully Anglican.”
Where the hell did they get that idea?  One hopes not from Lambeth Palace, but if not there where?  Who knows?
But one thing is for sure. Who ever thought that propping up deposed bishops under new flags in jurisdictions already having Episcopal / Anglican oversight was “fully Anglican” was full of it.
If ACNA bishops are not in “jurisdictional participation in a way that is fully Anglican” well, the deck of cards begins to collapse. And they are not. Archbishop Duncan admits as much when he writes, “The present reality is brokenness. The vision, however, that governs our fledgling Province remains unchanged…”
ACNA is not yet a “province” of anything, no matter that the Episcopal Church in the Sudan recognizes it as and “orthodox” partner and the GAFCON / Global South folk considers ACNA a full fledged partner.  This is because not being a recognized province these bishops and people understand that to be “fully Anglican” they need to be under the jurisdiction of an existing Province.

AMiA bishops who have left Rwanda are clearly not under jurisdiction now. ACNA bishops in Fort Worth, Quincy, San Joaquin and Pittsburgh are not with the Southern Cone. If not there where are they?

Confused? Don’t worry. You should be. It’s all quite confusing. The structures and jurisdictional relationships of these various dissenting Anglican bodies have never been clarified, and in the last few months, things have gotten even more jumbled. That the Archbishops could have written a document concerning the relationship of the CoE to ACNA without addressing ACNA’s origins, history, and current status is mind-boggling.

The Confession of St. Peter and the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity

Today is the Feast of the Confession of St. Peter, and the first day of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. As I was reflecting on today’s lessons for our midweek service, I was struck by the irony of our praying for Christian Unity in the context of the gospel lesson that is used as the basis for papal supremacy. Indeed, the founders of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity believed that Christian unity could best be achieved by other Christians “returning” to Roman Catholicism, as they themselves ultimately did. Even though the Roman Catholics participate in this week-long event (and I’ve linked to Pope Benedict XVI’s remarks below), their official understanding of ecumenism is much the same.

I’ve said before that I’m not a big supporter of grand gestures or institutions that promote ecumenism. I understand the importance of the agreements made between Episcopalians and Lutherans, for example, and for the dialogue that takes place among the traditions, but I think ecumenism is best expressed and experienced on the local level, not in an effort at merging churches, necessarily, but in cooperation, fellowship, and growing understanding of the differences as well as similarities among the traditions.

From Beliefnet, background and commentary on the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity.

Pope Benedict’s remarks today.

News from the Episcopal Diocese of Maryland offers another perspective on the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. It was announced today that agreement was reached between the diocese and a Baltimore parish that had voted to become Roman Catholic. Here’s Bishop Sutton’s statement. Here’s the diocesan statement about the property settlement. I find noteworthy several items:

1) That with the help of a mediator, agreement about the property was made among the various parties involved. The diocese, rightly so, will receive a monetary settlement.

2) The congregation voted to make this move, acting democratically. As Bishop Sutton points out, that’s how we do things in the Episcopal Church. By expressing their franchise, these members also voted to give up their democratic rights as the Roman Catholic Church operates according to different rules.

3) Two paragraphs from Bishop Sutton’s letter stand out:

Episcopalians and Anglicans throughout the world, along with our Eastern Orthodox sisters and brothers worldwide, see ourselves as fully part of Christ’s one, holy, catholic and apostolic church. We know our roots. Theologically and liturgically the Roman, Anglican and Orthodox traditions hold much more in common than there are differences. Our polities, or the way we govern ourselves, differ. We are all still seeking the Kingdom of God that Jesus told his disciples is here. Together we are members of the Body of Christ here on earth.

 

Our brothers and sisters at Mount Calvary have not “converted” to Roman Catholicism. They have chosen to walk with different friends in the same one, holy, catholic and apostolic church of which they have always been a part. Let us pray for them on their journey. Let us hope that their work in the future will continue to seek and serve Christ in all persons, to respect the dignity of every human being, and help build up the Kingdom of God here on earth.

 

It seems to me that whatever the irony of this statement being published today, what it shows is the way property disputes in the Episcopal Church ought to be settled, whether the departing congregations are becoming Roman Catholic, or are joining one of the disgruntled Anglican offshoots.

 

Why should there be an Episcopal Church?

Why should there be an Episcopal Church? Why should there be any particular denomination? Is there something vital, authentically bearing witness to the good news of Jesus Christ in our fractured denominationalism? I remember a Roman Catholic professor and friend once saying that if he were in the business of creating a church, he would have the liturgy of the Roman Catholics, the theology of the Lutherans, and the polity of the Presbyterians. As a historian, I see the denominations as products of particular historical contexts, but also seeking to embody and preserve the truth of the gospel in those historical contexts, and deserving of survival and health insofar as they continue to bear witness to the good news of Jesus Christ in their particular forms.

After nearly two weeks of discussion around the Episco-web, we’ve finally come to the core question. On the surface, it may seem rather self-centered. After all, the Episcopal Church was not founded by Jesus Christ (the Roman Catholics make this claim, “You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church;” the Orthodox also make the claim). We cannot. We were founded in the new United States by a group of Christians who found themselves alienated from their spiritual roots in the Church of England, yet desirous of rooting new shoots of that tradition in the soil of American democracy.

We can claim the marks of the true Church–for the Protestant Reformation it was “where the Word of God is truly preached and the sacraments rightly administered.”

We can also make claims to apostolic succession, although I would ask whether that is an ex post facto defense of authenticity and catholicity, rather than being central to the Anglican tradition (Richard Hooker, for one, thought that matters of church organization like the episcopacy were not central to the faith).

So what are we left with? Comments on facebook and the Episcopal Cafe focus on what makes the Episcopal Church, or Anglicanism, distinctive. And many of the comments stress liturgy, the Book of Common Prayer, the three-legged stool. What these comments point to is an Anglican (or Episcopal) ethos. It may be that in this case it is better to use Episcopal than Anglican, for there are unique elements in the Episcopal Church that help to explain some of the current conflicts we have with other Anglicans–namely, our mixed governance that includes laity as well as clergy in the decision-making process, the election of bishops, et al.

What is the Episcopal ethos? In a word, Anglicanism shaped by its American context. And that is decisive. I’m not flag-waving here. Rather, I want to point to the things that would prevent me from ever becoming Roman Catholic: papal supremacy, clerical celibacy, and the all-male priesthood. Those are symbols of something else, an understanding of authority and the nature of the church that is deeply problematic in the twenty-first century: centralization and hierarchy, sexism, and a lengthy historical development that have created the papacy in existence today. It did not always look like this; it did not always assert primacy, nor infallibility.

It’s interesting that a Mennonite convert to Roman Catholicism blogged today about her discomfort with the “Roman” piece of her Catholicism. But I do think that in the US, many of the challenges Roman Catholicism faces have to do with the American context and culture.

I believe deeply that the Episcopal Church as Episcopal bears truthful witness to Christianity–in its openness to intellectual inquiry, in the beauty of our worship, and in the way we try to be the body of Christ–with bishops, priests, deacons, and lay people, all commissioned ministers of Christ.

Are there other Christian traditions that bear truthful witness to Christ? Of course, and many of them have their unique charismata. In fact, one of the stumbling blocks that delayed my becoming Episcopalian was that I believed the denomination in which I was raised and baptized, the Anabaptist-Mennonite tradition, is a powerful, prophetic witness to other Christian communities, including Anglicanism.

Are the things which make the Episcopal Church unique available in other denominations (or in non-denominational congregations)? Many of them, yes, but not in the particular combination and with the unique history that has made us who we are. Will the Episcopal Church, will Anglicanism survive until the Parousia? I have no idea, and I don’t really care. What matters to me is that it is the place in which I can express my faith, and experience Jesus Christ, and that I believe others can do so as well. So long as that latter statement is true, the Episcopal Church, or the Episcopal ethos in so form, should survive, indeed continue to thrive. It is when we no longer bear witness to the continued vitality of that historical manifestation of the good news, that there is no reason for us to exist.

What’s non-negotiable? Love of God and of Neighbor

The ongoing debate at Episcopal Cafe about the future of the Episcopal, couched in terms either of “What’s up for grabs?” or “What’s non-negotiable?” continues to generate thoughtful responses. Here’s one from Derek Olsen in which he argues that the Book of Common Prayer 1979 is one of those non-negotiables. He means not the book itself, of course, but the liturgy and spirituality that are laid out in it: the centrality of the Eucharist and the Daily Office.

Of course, for many the BCP has been up for grabs, tinkered with in efforts to be more culturally or theologically relevant, or to compete with the multimedia extravaganzas of the megachurches.

Olson says something else of great interest to me. He says that a primary goal of liturgical spirituality is “a disciplined recollection of God,” that parishes have a responsibility to be a witness to that recollection both to the larger world, and to its members:

Are we forming communities that embody the love of God and neighbor in concrete actions? Not just in what programs the institution is supporting, but are we feeding regular lives with a spirituality that not only sustains them but leads them into God’s work in a thousand different contexts in no way related to a church structure? Are our parishes witnessing to their members and to the wider community in their acts of corporate prayer for the whole even when the whole cannot be physically there?

 

I was struck by what he said as I reflected on two phone calls that came into the church this afternoon within a few minutes of each other. Both were from non-members. One came from a woman who belonged to a congregation from another denomination but knew about our work with the homeless and wanted to make regular contributions to support that work.

The other came from a woman who called ostensibly to find out why no Madison Episcopal churches had service times listed in the Saturday newspaper. I explained that all of us thought our limited publicity budgets could better spent elsewhere. I then asked about her. It turns out she too is a member of another mainline denomination, but finds their worship becoming “too folksy” for her taste. I encouraged her to visit us.

What’s non-negotiable? Beautiful worship that allows people to experience God–to love God; and active outreach, sharing God’s love with those around us.

The Great Awakening: if only

Over the weekend, a gathering was held in Chicago sponsored by the Episcopal Diocese of Chicago and Seabury-Western Theological Seminary. It was entitled, rather boldly, the Great Awakening.

The Episcopal Cafe, as it should, posted info about this in order to engage conversation. Here’s the comment I wrote:

I don’t want to sound snarky, really. I have enormous respect for Bishop Lee, Diana Butler Bass, and Brian McLaren. But I’m at the point in my life and ministry where I would like to see conversations about the future of the church, the future of Christianity, the future of communities of faith, to involve people who are actually involved in the day-to-day struggle of creating community in this post-Christian culture. I would like to see a conference where the pundits and analysts had to engage those of us who are trying to deal with the realities of elderly, homebound people who expect regular pastoral care, homeless people who spend the night in our shelter, the ongoing life of our parish, and young adults who are so stretched they lack the energy to attend Sunday morning services.

The Great Awakening? Please, spare me.

“It’s like the Roman Catholics have declared war on the Episcopal Church!”

I had started a post about the Ordinariate a few days ago, but didn’t finish it because I’m never quite sure how many people are really interested in matters Anglican and Episcopalian. Then a parishioner caught me at coffee hour, asked me about the Ordinariate, and said, “It’s like the Roman Catholics have declared war on the Episcopal Church!”

He had read the article in The New York Times and wanted my take on it. Unfortunately, about the time I got wound up in my response I was asked about something else by someone else and couldn’t complete my brilliant ad lib response.

The article he mentioned can be read here. The Washington Post also covered the story, quoting friend Tom Ferguson, who offered thoughts about this development on his blog, Crusty Old Dean. Ferguson offers background, including the significance of the change from the “Pastoral Provision” which allowed for conversions of priests and whole congregations on a case-by-case basis, and the Ordinariate, which is a nation-wide structure.

Ferguson also addresses the “spin” being put on this development by some as “the fruit of decades of Roman Catholic/Anglican dialogue. In fact, it is nothing of the sort. Ferguson points out two issues–1) it is not ecumenical at all, in the sense that it was a one-sided declaration with no dialogue among the parties; and 2) that the Roman Catholic Church assumes ecumenism is incorporation into the Roman Catholic Church. Ferguson writes passionately from the perspective of a decade-long involvement in ecumenical relations.

But there is also the reality on the ground, and a pastoral response in particular situations. Several bishops have commented about the Ordinariate.

Bishop Andrew Doyle of the Diocese of Texas has some useful things to say about this. Most important, perhaps is this:

I have no anxiety and I hope that the Ordinariate will be a place where some who feel spiritually homeless may find a dwelling place; and a place where others may come to a better understanding of their own Anglican heritage.

Here’s the Bishop of the Rio Grande, Michael Vono’s take. He is the successor of Jeffrey Steenson, who resigned as Episcopal Bishop to become Roman Catholic and has been named to lead the new Ordinariate.

Is it a declaration of war? I’m not so sure. To provide a place for those who no longer feel welcome or part of the Episcopal Church seems to me a generous act. To do it without consultation with the Episcopal Church (as the Ordinariate in England was announced without notifying the Archbishop of Canterbury) seems churlish. Most commentators agree that the overwhelming number of congregations and clergy that will enter the ordinariate are not part of the Episcopal Church, but rather belong to one or another of the splinter groups that have broken off since the 1960s.

Furthermore, as the recent experience of the AMiA bears out, many of these latter groups may be led by men who would prefer being big fish in small ponds, and chafe at coming under the control of other authorities. We will see how all of this develops.

The other thing to point out is that it is impossible to determine how many people are moving the other way, from the Roman Catholic church to the Episcopal Church. Priests move that way regularly, and lay people do as well, although in many cases, the latter have been estranged from the Roman church for years or even decades.

In sum, another sordid episode in the history of ecumenical relations.

Rearranging (redesigning) the church furniture

I love the creative incongruity of the internet, which often is reflected either in my Google Reader or facebook feeds. To wit: Today two facebook friends linked to things they had written about seating in churches. Nadia Bolz-Weber has a post on Patheos about the restrictions placed on worship and community by traditional church pews. Scott Gunn highlights news that the Church of England is seeking new designs for church chairs. Gunn is having some fun at the CoE’s expense, but Bolz-Weber is completely serious as she points out the clear message sent to contemporary culture by traditional interior church architecture and design:

There is a critical “why” to the reason we do things this way that extends far beyond taste.  It’s missional.  In a postmodern context people are increasingly leery of organized religion and it’s attendant obsession with hierarchy.  We have peeked behind the curtain and seen only scared little men. So a shared, communitarian experience of liturgy in which we live as the Priesthood of all Believers is inviting in a way that the formality of the traditional church is not.  (To be clear, this is not the same as saying that we no longer need clergy – I still hold the office of Word and Sacrament but I hold it on behalf of the whole community and with their permission).  This population of urban, postmodern young-ish people have a deep critique of consumer culture and as such are far more interested in being producers than consumers.  This goes for church as well. And being able to worship in the round creates an accountability of presence to each other and a shared experience which allows for the community to create the thing they are experiencing rather than consuming what others have produced for them.

It’s an interesting perspective on the debate that’s going on over at the Cafe about “what’s up for grabs.”

There’s more to say about the historical development of the pew. Bolz-Weber aligns it to the Protestant Reformation and the importance of preaching. In fact, preaching was important before the rise of Protestants–the Dominicans, for example, are officially known as the Order of Preachers. Medieval preachers, and many Catholics and Protestants in the 16th century complained, often in their sermons, about the lack of attention paid to their words by the assembled congregation. Pews were in part an attempt not to make the sermon more central but to force disciplined behavior on churchgoers and to establish a clear hierarchical relationship between clergy and people, which undergirds Bolz-Weber’s larger point.

On the other hand, one of the odder moments in the debate between radical reformer Conrad Grebel and Huldreich Zwingli had to to with Grebel’s insistence that communion should be received while seated, just as the disciples were seated at the Last Supper.

The Church is flat–no, the church is a hierarchy

Two pieces published on Patheos on January 3 illustrate the struggle over ecclesiology within Christianity. The first is a report on and excerpt from Tony Jones’ new book: The Earth is Flat: The Relational Ecclesiology of the Emerging Church. Jones is one of the leaders of the emerging church movement and in this book he looks closely at eight of the most important congregations in the movement and relates those congregations to the theology of Juergen Moltmann. In an excerpt published on Patheos, Jones explores how the image of “friendship” takes on Christological significance for these congregations as well as helping them to rethink the role of clergy leadership and develop egalitarian structures. Jones is not Episcopalian; the Emerging Church movement grew out of Evangelicalism but it has a strong interest in liturgy and has made inroads within the Episcopal Church as well.

The same day, Frederick Schmidt published an essay entitled, “Jesus is not our elected representative.” Money quote:

The church is a hierarchy—in composition, character, and mission. Jesus is not our elected representative. He is King of King and Lord of Lords.

I read these two pieces while reflecting on the debate at Episcopal Cafe on renewing the Episcopal Church. An earlier post by Jim Naughton led to debate over the centrality of the Eucharist to our worship, whether clergy were needed, and so on. You can follow that discussion here. There’s comment at the Friends of Jake blog as well

I’m coming to the position that all of the discussion about structural reform in the Episcopal Church may need to begin with a thoughtful discussion about ecclesiology and mission in the context of a post-Christian world. In a situation with scarce resources, it’s easy for important debates to devolve into competition over one’s share of the pie. That’s what I often sense is taking place in the Episcopal Church–whether it’s the debate over restructuring General Convention,  the thread on the Cafe about the roles of clergy and laity, or debates within congregations over budget shortfalls.

Naughton’s question, “What is up for grabs?” is the important question. Can we do ministry and mission on the local level with our diocesan and national structure siphoning off significant financial resources? Can we maintain buildings that were constructed fifty or a hundred years ago, are not energy efficient, poorly-suited for twenty-first century ministry, and require expensive maintenance? What might an Episcopal Church look like that was freed up from its structures (historical, institutional, and bricks and mortar) to offer beautiful worship, thoughtful formation, and hospitality to a world full of people seeking meaning in life?

It certainly is an interesting time to be an Episcopal priest. Thanks be to God!

The Episcopal Cafe’s top ten list

… and Jim Naughton’s commentary.

The tenth most popular story on The Lead was a brief item I popped up late one Monday evening a couple of months ago, noting that there aren’t nearly as many Episcopalians as there used to be and wondering if we ought to try to do something about that. It was also among the items that drew that most comment.

Naughton gets the significance of that development right, and points out that the Cafe, and probably most other Episcopal blogs, are focused internally, on issues of interest primarily to insiders (“Episco-geeks” maybe?). But the important stories, the developments that will have a long-lasting impact on local congregations, on the health and vitality of the Episcopal Church, and Christianity as a whole, are taking place outside the doors of our churches.

At the end of his piece, Naughton says:

The greatest danger facing our church has less to do with its stand on LGBT issues than with its quickly diminishing capacity to witness effectively on behalf of the Gospel.

I am hoping we can pay some attention to the simple issue of survival in the year ahead.

Unfortunately, he ended on a negative note. To put the issue in front of us in terms of “survival” is to see the problem in terms of the institution, and not the gospel. I don’t think the problem is that we “have a diminishing capacity to witness effectively on behalf of the gospel.” The problem is, we are too focused on institutional questions, on structural questions. We spend too much of our time and energy debating the Anglican Covenant, and have nothing left over for witness.

It’s not a problem of our “capacity.” After all, the gospel was spread by a small, ragtag group of disciples who were uneducated and ill-equipped for the commission they were given. That didn’t matter. They were on fire for the gospel. We need to be as well, or we might as well close up shop now and not waste further effort.