To people outside the Episcopal Church of the United States of America (ECUSA), the recent saga of internal and external recriminations over the ordination of Gene Robinson, an openly and non-celibate gay priest, as bishop of New Hampshire, is usually understood in the familiar secular language of liberalism and conservatism, of progress and tradition, and of moralism and relativism, with observers taking sides on the basis of their own political or cultural views. Non-Episcopalian U.S. conservatives, in particular, have made great hay over the international reaction among the broader Anglican Communion to the lopsided approval of Robinsons ordination by Episcopal bishops, treating it as another example of the self-destruction of mainstream Protestants in the thrall of secular liberalism or radicalism. They derive special delight from the irony that Third World Anglican leaders, presumably the favorites of liberals on political matters, have led the charge against the alleged apostasy of American moral relativists.
Its no secret that most if not all self-conscious Anglo-Catholics seem relatively tolerant about gay or lesbian priests or bishops, in line with their emphasis on liturgy and their non-literalist approach to Scripture. By the same token, its no accident that the hostility to Bishop Robinson, and to any formal tolerance of active homosexuality, is strongest among self-conscious evangelicals who increasingly insist on a literalist interpretation of scriptural condemnations of homosexuality.
Elizabeth Adamss new book Going to Heaven: The Life and Times of Bishop Gene Robinson, for all its virtues, does not cast much light on that question. As a close friend and an advocate for Robinson, she certainly helps paint a portrait of the bishop of New Hampshire that is hard to square with the conservative stereotype of him as some sort of libertine or secularist. Robinson comes across as precisely the sort of believer who ought to become a priest or bishop: conscientious, selfless, deeply empathetic, theologically orthodox (in terms of the basics of the faith), and capable of reaching out to even the bitterest enemies. (Indeed, her description of the dissolution of his marriage and his relationship with his ex-wife and particularly his two daughters ought to shame many of his heterosexual detractors.) But she probably does him little good by framing his case as simply part of a broader drive within the church for equality and social justice. Perhaps its because Adams has written her book for a lay or non-Anglican audience, but she does not really attempt to connect the current crisis with much of anything in the churchs past, other than (misleadingly) the 1970s fight over ordination of women and prayerbook revision, which split Anglo-Catholics and Anglo-evangelicals into conservative and liberal camps.
Both Adams and (particularly) Bates write about the agony of those in the Anglican Communion, and especially its largely symbolic British leadership, who want to avoid a definitive rupture over sexual issues.
To make a very long story short, Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams, best described in the current rough lexicon as a liberal Anglo-Catholic, is seeking to convince the ECUSA (and its Canadian counterpart, where formal blessings of same-sex unions have been sanctioned) to hold the line on further provocative acts, pending a broader compromise within the Communion. Just as importantly, the latest General Convention of the ECUSA named a pro-Robinson female bishop as its presiding bishop, providing conservative Anglo-Catholics opposed to ordination of women with a fresh motive for making a tactical common cause with conservative evangelicals.
The immediate flashpoint in the whole battle is the demand of some American Episcopal parishes with orthodox believersmostly evangelical, but including some Anglo-Catholicsto pull their churches out of ECUSA and place them under the oversight of more conservative African and Asian bishops. This may be legally problematic: When traditionalist parishes have tried in the past to leave ECUSA with their money, buildings, and other assets, courts have said no. But the really big-picture question is this: Who is dividing Anglicanism? Who are the schismatics? Is it the Episcopal churches that have ordained homosexuals but wish to stay within the Anglican Communion? Or is it the several African bishops who have openly threatened departure from the Communion if their demands for expulsion of the U.S. and Canadian churches are not immediately accepted?
The whole history of the Church of England and its progeny is full of semi-miraculous interventions that overcame apparently impossible theological conflicts. Much of what we think of as Anglicanism was produced by Elizabeth Is decisive if arbitrary edict against further religious innovation, which froze the English Reformation more or less where it was when her brother Edward VI died (with the crucial exception that she insisted on priestly language during communion that validated the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist, a key Catholic concession).
And even in the penultimate crisis over ordination of women and prayerbook revision, the spirit of compromise largely prevailed. To this day, a majority of Anglican national churches do not ordain women, and even among those that do, dissident dioceses and individual churches are tolerated. (Less than a decade ago a Washington, D.C., church I once attended went through a formal purification process after a female bishop celebrated Mass there.) And in the ECUSA, at least, hostility to prayerbook revision led to a resolution offering all churches traditionalist Rite I and modern Rite II language for the Eucharist. Its a token of the tangled psychology of Anglicanism that Rite II, which most Evangelicals welcomed and most Anglo-Catholics resisted, is by any objective measure more catholic than Rite I.
Given this history of conflict and compromise, it will be truly sad if the Anglican Communion finally falls apart over the ordination of Gene Robinson and his likely successors. I know that I personally support Robinsons ordination as a reflection of my own belief that faithful same-sex relationships are a reflection of Gods unlimited love. But I also value the Anglican tradition as an essential vehicle for the reconciliation of Catholic and Evangelical impulses in Christianity. I suspect a broad majority of Episcopalian lay people, regardless of how they feel about Robinson, feel more aggrieved by the international and domestic attacks on ECUSA autonomy than by the autonomous decisions of the diocese of New Hampshire.
As these two books illustrate, its not at all clear which side in the current conflict truly represents the via media. God only knows. And it would be helpful if He manifested His Will with another miracle of intervention.