Sadness

One wonders if there is anything more crucial to do than to obey the sadness of our times by taking it into account without equivocation or subterfuge. We must not just say what we ought to say about the Gospel or what it might be in its interests for us to say, but how we ourselves have felt about and experienced it. At no matter what risk, the Gospel is, above all, a speaking of the truth about the way things are.

Our times are sad. Even one of our Episcopate Committee's final chosen few to be nominated as our next bishop realized this after his thorough immersion in the search process. As he withdrew, he reflected that we here seem joyless and blanketed with melancholy (cf his remarks elsewhere in this issue). What he discerned should be no secret to any who are attentive to our present malaise. We believe that denial and grandiosity, together with what seems an overly self-righteous obsession to control, to image, and to numbers has brought this sadness upon us. So, enough with the equivocation and subterfuge. They only impede the authority to speak the truth about the way things are. It is time for us to let go and let God.

In a way, we can only laugh about the comedy we've allowed to pertain here, the foolishness of it, the ruse of it. But make no mistake, we have allowed it. Any nutcake knows this melancholy is not finally about ordaining gays and lesbians. That's gone on for centuries at all levels of the church's life from the papacy on up and down. Such faux priggery should fool no one, and further, the absurdity of it is simply unbecoming to anyone who'd assume to be a disciple of Christ. 

This is God's church, not ours, not theirs, and we are its stewards (cf Hunt's article elsewhere in this issue). We cannot buy it. We cannot even steal it. We can only care for it and take the consequences when we presume to use it for our own glory.

We've a rich heritage in Tennessee, a history of collegially committed ministry and service. That inheritance has been usurped, and we should be disgusted. In our forthcoming episcopal election, we can terminate such indulgence along with the pious masquerade behind which it has hidden, and we can begin the long road to healing. It is difficult to conceive how the present selection process, embedded as it is with schismatic organizations, can put forth any candidate whom one might trust to lead us to such recovery. It would only prolong and deepen the tragedy should we allow this present policy to continue.

The church has resources available for such times and situations as these. Should we for some reason be unable to elect, it may be in our best interest to request a trained leader for an interim time sufficient to engage and to begin the healing. We believe such a choice would not only honor those whose past stewardship we enjoy, but also those who will assume this mantle in the future. To this end, we respectfully request the Standing Committee of the Diocese of Tennessee to put aside its own partisan differences, to give this possibility considered and prayerful thought, and to take the steps necessary to implement it.

[COVENANT, Number 22, January 2006]