Prayer of Abandonment (And a Discipline of Mind)

Four o'clock in the morning, or thereabouts, when I often have to get up and tend a child, is a dangerous time for my discipline of mind. I get back into bed, and generally, having had enough sleep not to fall back to sleep immediately, start thinking. Thinking about what I should have done yesterday, what I have to do today or this week, what so and so said yesterday and what I should have said in response, etc. And it is easy for these thoughts to chain themselves to other events or thoughts, and before I know it I am agitated or worried, with no possibility of getting back to sleep. And worse still, I enter the new day with those thoughts and feelings in the background. This is not uncommon, and can happen to people during the day or night. There is a traditional spiritual practice that provides an antidote. Pray! At 4AM, once I realise that my mind is spiralling out of control, I say to myself, "I surrender", over and over. The trick is to stop thinking about anything else and saying the word without thinking about anything else at all. Don't concentrate on the word too much because the idea is that the word reflects a confidence in God, to whom you are surrendering. When I do this I am asleep within minutes.

It is the clue for the day as well. Experiencing a rise in aggravation of any kind? Thoughts, feelings building a momentum of negativity? Then say the surrender prayer above, or better still, during the day, try this prayer from Charles de Foucauld.

Father,

I abandon myself into your hands; do with me what you will.

Whatever you may do, I thank you:

I am ready for all, I accept all.

Let only your will be done in me, and in all your creatures.

I wish no more than this, O Lord.

Into your hands I commend my soul;

I offer it to you

with all the love of my heart,

for I love you, Lord,

and so need to give myself,

to surrender myself into your hands,

without reserve,

and with boundless confidence,

for you are my Father. Amen.

Hated and Hating (Luke 17:11-19)

Even the oppressed oppress others; the victimized and excluded exclude others. There is always someone else whose exclusion will make us feel better. Hated but also hating. One could imagine that the inner life of this small group of lepers, rather than their leprosy being the great equalizer of former animosities, merely repeated the usual perversions of exclusion. Hated but still hating.

The Samaritan in this reading is unclean for two reasons: ethnicity and leprosy. When he is made whole, is it only his leprosy of which he is healed? No, surely not just his leprosy is gone but also his conformity to the system that makes 'lepers' and 'Samaritans'. The Samaritan comes back to Jesus who is the source of his physical healing and his wholeness as a full human being, united through faith in Jesus with all those entering this new humanity.

Contrast the behaviour of the nine Jews with the Samaritan. They go to be certified clean by the priest; that is, returning to the system of exclusion through an officer of the system (the priest). From the point of view of the system (of ordinary religion) the nine Jewish lepers only required a single cleansing. They were part of the system before they contracted leprosy, and wanted to return to live within the system's confines. It is the Samaritan (he was never part of the system as a Samaritan) who sees that Jesus, by healing him equally with the nine Jews, also offered him liberation from the system itself.

One could be forgiven for thinking that the Samaritan, if he was meant to report to a Jewish or Samaritan priest, didn't bother. He had escaped the boundaries he formerly accepted forced on all of us by the universal human propensity to create boundaries of ex/inclusion. He would still have been hated by many, but no longer hating. His eyes had been opened.

The Rich Man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31)

Here is a tough parable from Jesus. Some doubt it was even spoken by Jesus, but it has that hard edge that sounds like him. However, perhaps those who say that Jesus used an original common story and made his own changes might be right. The use of 'Hades' owes more to Greek mythology; Jesus prefers Gehenna (Matt 5:22; 10:28; Lk 12:5), the pit of refuse perpetually burning outside of Jerusalem in the time of Jesus. Interestingly, in OT times is was the valley where Israel joined itself to the ordinary religions around it and practiced child sacrifice.(2Kings 23:10; Jer 7:31) If Jesus has taken an original story and made changes, then we should be careful not to read too much into the imagery of the 'bosom of Abraham' and 'Hades' as exactly replicating Jesus understanding of the structure of the afterlife. Rather, the our focus might be better directed at the strange inversion of expectations in the plot of the story.

A couple of points to think about:

1. The parable seems to run contrary to all manner of prosperity gospels. The prosperity gospel links earthly fortune to God's favour, which will continue into 'heaven'. In its crassest form the prosperity referred to is wealth, but it can just as easily be converted into moral rectitude, spiritual gifts or faith, etc. My faith is evidence of my salvation in the future, especially if that faith includes healings and other extraordinary experiences! But the parable warns us that earthly circumstances are not a reliable indication of our relationship with God, now or in the future.

2. The prosperity gospel is just one more example of ordinary religion. Ordinary religion (as distinct from from Christian faith), despite any rhetoric to the contrary, bases itself on 'you get what you deserve'. In ordinary religion mercy is absent. Interestingly, in the parable the rich man, who showed no mercy during his life, and perhaps in the original story went to heaven (he deserved it just as he deserved his wealth), cannot be helped by an act of mercy.(16:24) His brothers can save themselves from a similar eternal fate if they repent, that is, seek mercy. (16:30)

3. The problem for the rich man is that he misread what is required of him. His earthly comfort was not an indicator that he was being blessed by God! In his smug trust in his own prosperity he sees no need to seek mercy! So, after death he lives out the god he believed in, the god without mercy, where the scales are weighed and the result permanent. The rich man was found wanting. Perhaps we should prefer the God of mercy!

4. The parable ends with the statement that not even a resurrection will convince some people to repent. (16:31) Exactly. Resurrection without the cross is ordinary religion. Ordinary religion needs a resurrection so that its adherents can make the smug identification between themselves and those deserving of eternal life. But ordinary religion especially needs a resurrection without a crucified-risen messiah.Ordinary religion crucified Jesus.

The parable remains a shocking warning to beware ordinary religion and its prosperity gospel, and jumping from our 'prosperity' to eternal salvation. If we want a 'you get what you deserve' approach from God, then we may well get it. And we might find that we haven't earned what we wanted!!

Forgetting and Forgiveness

Forgiveness is a lot harder than we generally think. Usually, what we forgive, we could have just as easily forgotten. And forgetting in most cases is fine. If someone happens to apologize we can forgive, but we could have just as easily forgotten. But then there are the hurts that we cannot forgive. “I can never forgive …” Well, whatever we might mean by this statement, we are certainly saying that we cannot forget. Forgiveness of a hurtful action that can only be forgiven (rather than forgotten) is hard. And the reason is because real forgiveness is asymmetrical. ‘S/he’ has hurt me, and I am meant to just forgive them? Get real. ‘S/he’ can at least say sorry first, and ‘s/he’ could try to make amends, all of which will start to balance out the asymmetry. But even then, if we have been hurt terribly, maybe not. The asymmetry will most likely remain. We can’t forget; and it seems, we can’t forgive. There are a couple of things we can do at this point though. We can make sure we are remembering the incident correctly by not making it worse than it actually was (remembering rightly). We can also avoid imputing motivations for a wrong doing without hard evidence. It might also help if we ask ourselves questions like, “Have I ever done something similar?” or “Could I imagine doing something similar if my circumstances were different?” None of the above excuses the wrong, but we can cut the wrong back to its true proportion. The asymmetry will remain, but it might not be quite so great. Now comes the hard part. Forgive. This won’t mean forgetting (if we could forget we would have done so before). ‘S/he’ doesn’t deserve to be let off the hook, ‘s/he’ should be for ever sorry, for ever trying to make up for what ‘s/he/ did, shouldn’t ‘s/he’? And right at this point we see clearly the asymmetry and why real forgiveness is hard. Forgiveness is letting all that go without compensation. Like I said at the beginning, forgiveness is a lot harder than we generally think. But it is a lot more liberating than we think too.

The Parable of the Dishonest Manager (Luke 16:1-9)

Like me, have you always wondered about this parable? Why praise a dishonest manager? "Well done for being so dishonestly devious." But what if vs 9 were a Lucan addition? It is vs 9 that skews the interpretation of the parable itself. Without vs 9 the praise of the master becomes explicable, and the parable takes its place as part of the battery of parables he uttered in reference to his ministry of forgiving sins.

The key, I think, is not to let vs 9 make us think that the manager continues to act dishonestly when he writes down the debts owed to his master. He has previously been accused of acting dishonestly. (16:1)  However, maybe in a society of honour, writing down the debts of some of his master's debtors (16:5-7) would bring immense kudos to the master. The master would be seen generally as a generous man, and might even get the best seat in the synagogue! (See Matt 6:2) Those whose debts were remitted aren't aware that the manager is acting without the consent of his master. They think they are receiving the master's generosity. When the master finds out what the manager has done he praises the formerly dishonest manager because he has finally done something worthy of praise!


Isn't this exactly what Jesus did? He remitted the debts of sinners in the name of God. And those forgiven would have spoken highly of the generosity of God. No doubt this compounded the anger and fury of the enemies of Jesus. However, when seen in this light, the parable makes sense and can plausibly be seen as part of the battery of parables Jesus told about forgiveness. (E.g. Luke 15; 18:9-14)

A New Imperialism?

Dr Mouneer Anis

It is hard to know what to make of this. On one level it makes a good deal of sense that Africa, with its burgeoning Christian population and energy, will change Christianity, including the Western Churches. However, as reported it sounds a little too triumphalistic, even imperialistic. The missionary activity of African Churches in other countries will, presumably, be working with the churches in those countries, wouldn't it? Well ... given the actions of some Anglican African dioceses, one could be excused for thinking not. Some might say that it would be poetic justice if the shoe were on the other foot after the centuries of western ecclesial imperialism in Africa. While this is true, it would also be a possible example of the way in which human sin is ingrained across the generations, races and cultures. Original Sin, in other words.

A more nuanced response came from the Archbishop of Canterbury when he says that "God raises up different countries and cultures in different seasons to bear witness to his purpose in a specially marked way, and it may be that this is indeed his will for Africa in the years ahead."

Theologians

St John the Theologian

I remember reading an article by an Australian Anglican (episcopal) theologian saying, essentially, that the theologian should have, if not a preeminent place in the church, a place of superiority in the discussions, debates and directions of the church. The problem is that it sounds elitist, and the rejoinder to the claim by the bishop was that the church, with all its various divisions of labour, should be more like a symphony. This sounds right, but it does seem to me that the life and voice of the theologian is one that needs to be particularly nurtured and listened to in the church. We have always done this, although in these days of user-pay some smaller theological enterprises might come tumbling down to the detriment of the whole church. But why listen to the theologian? If the theologian's voice is not one of superiority, it is one that must be listened to. But why? I think this post from Ben Myers over at Faith and Theology is an excellent answer to the question.

Quintessential Jesus

 We read from Luke 14:1-14 on Sunday. 14:7-11 is not quintessential Jesus. He has taken a piece of sensible, common wisdom available in Proverbs 25:6-7. Show a little modesty is the piece of advice, and Jesus makes a more theological point, perhaps that our self-promotion will not trick God (true, and while not below Jesus to say, it just sounds a bit too safe for him), or more likely a blanket warning about success in the world. "For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted." (14:11) That is, the kingdom will bring down thrones and raise up the lowly (Lk 1:51-53; 6:20-26; 16:19-31; 18:9-14) There is a rawness about this saying that we want to blunt, even a little. It seems a little extreme and unfocused, to say the least. This kind of blanket assertion is found elsewhere, and early. (Jas 4:4-10; 1Pet 5:5b-6) Why didn't Jesus just go with the more reasonable, 'You can't fool God by self-promotion? Why tack on the pithy, difficult, blanket epithet?

Before answering that question, let's return to the passage in hand. The parable advising against premature self-promotion is followed by a passage quintessentially Jesus. Invite to your party those who can't repay you, or who no one else would even think of inviting! The excluded, reviled and ignored. Those who occupy a humble place in the world without choice, no matter how inflated their ego. Why?  So that we can find a home in the kingdom, because the kingdom is populated with such as these. This is more than Jesus giving us some advice to show compassion or humility. This is about the way our humanity and the world is structured. We divide, exclude, victimise and persecute. It is built into our structure of being, and the way our societies are structured. Jesus invites us to live differently by seeing the world differently. Not from the point of view of those who 'win' or want to 'win' in such a world, but from the point of view of those who 'lose'.The honoured guest, from the point of view of the kingdom,  is not famous or wealthy.

Which brings us to the beginning of today's reading, Lk 14: 1-6, the man with dropsy (edema). He is the honoured guest, and it is only Jesus who recognises him and acts. That's because Jesus chooses to see the world from the perspective of the humility of the cross. (Phil 2:5-11) The Pharisees, and a reader like me, very easily miss the point.

Returning to the question of why Jesus would make such a blanket statement as "For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted." (14:11), it is important to see that Jesus doesn't thinks the kingdom is about moderating the excesses of human behaviour. There is something radically wrong, cutting to the heart of our societies and the way we become who we are as members of this society. We are all implicated, and there is no escape through moderation or some kind of self-realisation that relies on one's own resources. The doctrinal name for this is Original Sin, and I will write a little more about it later in the week.

Getting Our Language Right

This article from Hauerwas is good on the importance of learning to speak Christian. It includes the importance of learning when to stop speaking, and the way in which we have been co-opted in other political and social languages by a need to separate ourselves from extremism. An example of the former is not giving solace to the bereaved by saying of a loved one, "They have gone to a better place." That smells of the immortal soul. And he cites the use of 'God' instead of Jesus as an example of the latter. Using Cavanaugh, Hauerwas mentions the way in which the secular state has smoothed out the differences between different faiths for its own political stabilization and control through the universalism of  the words 'religion' and 'God'.

Benedcit XVI, Truth and Reform

 I'm interested in the way Benedict XVI is pilloried in general, and what a more nuanced view might include. Try this from Tracey Rowland, 'The Triumph of Theologians Over Bureaucrats in the Vatican', from the ABC Religion and Ethics portal. Here are a few quotes:

"The Church is currently faced with the problem that the generation of 1968 is now at the height of its social influence and is busy pushing a militantly secularist ideology. In order to contend with this we need ecclesial leaders who are able to intellectually engage with the ideas of this generation. They can't do this unless they are across the intellectual history of the past couple of centuries, including the Nietzschean claim that Christianity destroyed eros and is a crime against life itself."

"One of the hallmarks of his (Benedict's) interventions in this field (dialogue) is his insistence that truth matters and thus that the idea of making praxis take priority over belief (cf. Kueng's Weltethos or "Global Ethics" project) is a flawed approach. This is a position he takes from his early mentor Romano Guardini. It is also the position taken by Professor John Milbank, friend of Rowan Williams and leader of the Radical Orthodoxy circle of scholars in the UK and by Professor Gavin D'Costa, an advisor to the Pontifical Council for Inter-religious Dialogue and author of several best-selling works on the subject of dialogue."

"John Milbank argues that the emphasis on justice and liberation one finds in the "praxis solution" glosses over the fact that religions have differed as much over political and social practices as they have over notions of divinity. He also draws attention to the paradox that those who are most vocal about the need for religious pluralism and building a new world order based upon shared ethical practices tend to be basing their stance on Enlightenment values and attitudes, that is, Western liberal values and attitudes, which run counter to their very project of affirming the non-Western 'others'."

"Let's hope that Pope Benedict continues to appoint to high office people who care about ideas and their social effects, rather than deferring to self-regarding pragmatists and professional paper-shuffling schmoozers. Given he spent 25 years working in the Curia he is well placed to know who fits into what category."

The Dark Green God of Christianity

We had an interesting QT (Question Time) at Holy Innocents last Sunday night. Three excellent presenters with some good questions and discussion following. The topic was "Is God a Greenie?" The answer for most people present (and I think for all three presenters) was 'Yes'. The question is what shade of green? I would say that God is dark green, passionately in love with all of God's creation, a creation interdependent in its complexity and evolution. Can Christianity be a dark green religion? Take the following definition of dark green religion:

"Dark green religion, as I have constructed the term, involves the perception that nature is sacred and has intrinsic value, the belief that everything is interconnected and mutually dependent, and a deep feeling of belonging to nature. Often rooted in an evolutionary understanding that all life shares a common ancestor, dark green religion generally leads to a form of kinship ethics that entails ethical responsibilities to all living things. From this stance, all life is, quite literally, related—a belief that leads naturally to empathy for other living things, who, like us, have evolved through what Darwin aptly called the struggle for existence. Such perceptions generally lead people to see more continuities than differences between their own and other species, and this perception generally leads to humility about one’s place in the grand scheme of things." (Bron Taylor, "Civil Earth Religion Versus Religious Nationalism", http://blogs.ssrc.org/tif/2010/07/30/civil-earth-religion/, accessed 16 August, 2010.) 

 On this definition the answer is definitely yes. In fact the author goes on to say that the new sensitivity to nature and the cosmos and all living things, with a concomitant sense of kinship and interconnectedness is being grafted onto existing religions, but that such grafting is not necessary because dark green religion can stand on its own feet. But can it? Once we start digging a little deeper theologically we start asking questions about how God and the interconnected web of living and non-living matter relate. This is where dark green religion will fall back into one of the pre-existing options of pantheism, monotheism, etc, rather than just be grafted onto one of them. Is God in some way different from us (that is, everything in the material universe), or are God and matter co-extensive? Christianity declines to collapse God into the universe, maintaining the difference between God and creation. Christianity does this so that the relationship between the two can be one of loving union. Undoubtedly dark green religion can be poured into a pantheistic religion, even one that appears new. (However, Taylor says that the dark green sensitivity is mostly going in a secular rather than religious direction.) But that isn't really new. Dark Greenies will choose either a secular path or find their place in one of the well worn theological paths of humanity.

Speaking of the dark green God of Christianity is not grafting something totally new onto a Christianity allegedly devoid of greenery. While the green sensitivities of our current age undoubtedly add much to our understanding, it has also helped us recover the green and green friendly core of Christianity. (For example, the hypostatic union of  human and divine in Jesus and, of course, the resurrection of Jesus. Not to mention the sacramental practice of the church and an absolute ton of the Bible.)

Happiness and Joy Now And In the Future

I recently asked a group of Yr 7s to write a short essay on what makes them happy. I then asked them to read the Matthean or Lucan Beatitudes (including woes). It stirs some questions to say the least, especially when some of Luke's woes end up on their happiness list! The gospel runs counter to the tendency to collapse happiness and joy down to a passing feeling or activities that are a little on the superficial side, and usually individualistic in tone. Jesus reminds us that there are things that are more important than the usual shopping list of 'happiness products'.

Moreover,  Jesus links happiness to a future fulfillment. "Happy are ... those who mourn, for they shall be comforted." (Matt 5:4) Hebrews picks this up in writing about Jesus as the pioneer of our faith: "...  who for the sake of the joy set before him endured the cross ..." (Hebrews 12:2). The little Greek word anti, translated above as  "for the sake of" can also mean "instead of". Both possibilities pick up the relative importance of present joys. "For the sake of" reminds us to look ahead to a greater joy for us all (Hebrews 11:39-40). The latter possible translation reminds us that there are times when the joys of life may need to be eschewed for obedience to God's call. No wonder it comes as the climax to the great honour roll of people of faith!

Hermeneutics: Simultaneously Receiving and Creating Meaning

"...meaning is by nature alive to, and structuring of, the present, something we discover to have preceded us at the same time as we collaborate in its creation." (James Alison, The Joy of Being Wrong, p. 1.)

Individual Rights and the Victim Mechanism

James Alison says that our predilection for individual rights is merely the reverse of the victim mechanism. Instead of the single victim against the righteous group, individual rights pits the righteous individual against (or at least suspicious of) the potentially oppressive many. Here is what he writes:

"In exactly the same way, the modern, 'enlightened' equivalent relies on the same distortion, but from the reverse side: it is the individual who is the sacred good, imbued with inalienable rights and with an inalienable freedom and conscience. The 'many', the social other, are the threatening and dangerous element, who may at any moment fetter 'my' freedom of rights, which are always worked out over against the social other. To be able to claim the high ground of victim status is indispensable for furthering whatever cause 'I' seek to sponsor. In this case, as in the previous, there has been no escape from the founding sacrality of the victim, as indeed there cannot be without a recognition that the victim is exactly the same as the many, and that the difference is produced by a collectively held delusion." (The Joy of Being Wrong, pp. 37-38.)

The Omniscient God

We Don't Like Your Preaching

For church members who don't like the preaching at their church they might not be alone; perhaps the preacher agrees! Read this from Faith and Theology to understand this cryptic comment.

The same could be said of  the sacraments. The sacrament's efficacy is due to the presence of Christ and nothing else. Preaching that is helpful isn't helpful because the preacher is a good preacher, and the Eucharist's effectiveness is independent of the holiness of the priest and congregation. People come expecting to receive, and Christ is gracious enough to be present, in word and sacrament.

Life, Boredom and Ritual

Ron Rolheiser

Following on from a recent post that included comments about why a little boredom is not necessarily a bad thing, see Ron Rolheiser here on staying away from those who expect excitement all the time.

Sex and Transcendence

It is said that the dispute about the place of gays and lesbians in ordained ministry is about the authority of Scripture. I think not. The continuing break-up of the churches across the globe because of disputes about sexuality is more an example of using Scripture against itself by perpetuating the victim mechanism. The disputes also attest to the power of desire and sex. At stake in the debate are our beliefs about the transcendent and the material, and their union (or separation), and the relationship between desire for the material and its interlacing with desire for the transcendent (and vice-versa). As  Peter Leithart says (see below), "Doesn’t sex itself hint at a meaning different from the sexual meaning?" Perhaps we might say "in addition to the sexual meaning", although this also is inadequate because it suggests that the extra meaning is permanently separable from the sexual meaning itself. The transcendent meaning should not be collapsed back into the sexual meaning, but neither should sexual and transcendent meaning be separated. We could quote Chalcedon's description of Christ ("without confusion or separation ...") and apply it to the union of physical and transcendent sexual meaning in each human person and lover.

Peter Leithart has been discussing the Song of Songs and has touched on a number of relevant issues. This post is good on the transcendence of sex. Here is an extract.

Peter Leithart

"What assumptions about sex are behind the common opinion that the Song (of Songs) is only an erotic poem, only a celebration of human sexuality and marriage, full stop?  (Tremper Longman: “There is absolutely nothing in the Song of Songs itself that hints of a meaning different from the sexual meaning.”)  When commentators express such opinions, are they already implicitly assuming a materialist view of sexuality?  Are they coming to the text with a presupposition that sex has no inherent transcendent meaning?  To put it the other way round: Doesn’t sex itself hint at a meaning different from the sexual meaning?"

We are complex, multi-layered beings, and the whole-hearted embrace of our physicality is a joyous and fearsome thing, for carried out faithfully it leads to encounter with the resurrected Christ. And that takes us way beyond ordinary religion's use of the resurrection to merely talk about an individual's personal existence after death.

The Victim Mechanism

Reading Rene Girard, or the Girardian theology of James Alison, is a converting experience. Girard sees the many against the (innocent) victim as the beginning of everything we take for granted as peculiarly human. Culture, religion, language, community, even the formation of the self and self-consciousness. At the beginning of the emergence of the (recognizably) human the violence amongst us from competition was resolved by pointing the finger in blame at an individual. They are the cause of the conflict (this is the lie of the lynchers); expelling or killing that individual will bring peace. And so it did, and still does. Humankind hid from the truth of our persecution of the innocent victim, but the mechanism did bring peace, at least of a sort. We still hide from the lie. All human culture, every individual's sense of self, is predated by our relationship to the innocent victim. There is no way around this primordial murder and its justifying lie. Religion does not escape. Religion arose, according to Girard, as a direct result of the peace brought through the death of the victim. The god(s) owned/accepted the victim, and sometimes the victim would take on royal and divine epithets.

This means that the victim mechanism, with its lie, is embedded in our societies, philosophies, politics, religions, etc. We are born into the lie because the lie is at the beginning of our culture. We are born into the lie because it is the cause of our caregivers self-consciousness. There is no 'self' that can step aside from the victim mechanism and correct the distortion. Original Sin takes on a new meaning in the light of Girard. There is no possibility of a Pelagian self-salvation by trying harder to separate ourselves from the lie within us. The lie is foundational to who we are. Salvation can only come from outside us, from the victim.

Hanging Together In Communion

James Tengatenga, Chair of Standing Committee

"A proposal from Dato' Stanley Isaacs that The Episcopal Church be separated from the Communion led to a discussion in which Committee members acknowledged the anxieties felt in parts of the Communion about sexuality issues. Nevertheless, the overwhelming opinion was that separation would inhibit dialogue on this and other issues among Communion Provinces, dioceses and individuals and would therefore be unhelpful. The proposal was not passed..." (Standing Committee, Anglican Consultative Council)

 Good for the Standing Committee. If individuals, parishes, dioceses, or provinces wish to separate themselves from the Episcopal Church of the USA (ECUSA) then they can stay away from ECUSA. The rest of us can stay connected. I don't want to separate from them; I quite like them. I visited USA in the late 90s, and was welcomed by the Diocese of Nevada. Just like any normal part of the Anglican Church they had a great deal of diversity of opinion on all sorts of issues. That's one reason why I like ECUSA : just like the US itself, despite its problems, ECUSA is diverse with interesting people and ideas.

Of course, it raises the question of what a formal separation would amount to in any event. It has been suggested that if ECUSA and the rest of us were formally separated ECUSA wouldn't be welcome at formal Anglican events around the globe. I imagine some ECUSANS who like the travel opportunities of the world-wide Anglican gravy-train may lament its end, but the other 99.9% of ECUSANS would get on with the business of being the Church, and that would include their international connections and work with those who are open to collaboration. Communion is a gift of the Spirit, and like all things of the Spirit is discerned not through human fiat, words or feelings, but by its fruit. People can separate themselves and break communion with others, but for those who wish to honour the Spirit's bonds of unity, we cannot be forced to give up the gift of communion. The Spirit will find a way to go around the barriers erected by some.