On March 5 a group assembled at All Saints Episcopal Church in Wichita Falls heard Bishop William
Wantland discuss his view of the controversy now raging within the Episcopal Diocese of Fort
Worth and elsewhere.
In justifying the pending split between the Diocese and the Episcopal Church, Bishop Wantland
claimed that the fundamental unit within the Church was the individual diocese with its bishop,
not the national church as a whole. He went so far as to say that the Episcopal Church and its
General Convention had no actual authority within any diocese. Since this is one of the key
points in the entire controversy, it merits some thought.
I asked Bishop Wantland by what authority the first American Book of Common Prayer came into
existence (I asked because I knew the answer). In 1789 the first General Convention of the
Episcopal Church authorized a new prayer book, somewhat altered from that of England, and it
directed that from October 1, 1790, that book be used in services throughout the Church.
That sounds authoritative to me. That prayer book was in fact the official Book of Common
Prayer for the Episcopal Church until it was revised a little more than a century later
(in 1892), again on the authority of the General Convention.
The Bishop claimed in reply that that didn't count: General Convention had never had any way
to enforce its directions, he said (the same could probably said for the State of Texas and
its traffic code), and congregations sometimes used other books as well--which is undoubtedly
true. He seemed to me to hold an overly narrow and literal view of authority in the Church.
The General Convention's authority does not extend to incarcerating those who violate prayer
book rubrics, and Anglicans stopped executing people for heresy long before the American Church
was formed. Church rules can only rarely be "enforced" in fact. The only means available to
encourage compliance are likely to be example, exhortation, and appeal to reason. Even excommunication
is very rare.
And how much more effective would diocesan enforcement have been? Probably not much, if any.
We might have ended up with a dozen conflicting prayer books in use. In the Diocese of Ft. Worth
today the 1979 rite II is "official," but some parishes use rite I or even mix or modify both, as
it suits them. "Herding cats" used to be a common expression for attempting a task that was
frustrating to the point of impossibility. I'm not sure that we Episcopalians are not, in our
hard-headed insistence on our own preferences, rather like those un-herdable cats.
By Bishop Wantland's description, the Episcopal Church as only a loose association of independent
dioceses. Any diocese at odds the Episcopal Church might choose, therefore, to "transfer" to
some other and more agreeable "province" within the Anglican Communion. He cited as an example
the departure of southern dioceses at the time of the Civil War and their formation of a new
Confederate Episcopal Church.
That did happen, but the example is not at all valid for what is taking place today. The dioceses
that joined the Confederate Church did so precisely because they believed they belonged naturally
to their new nation. This matched what the Episcopal Church had done when the United States became
independent. During the War, contact with the Episcopal Church was necessarily very limited.
Then, after the new nation had failed to survive. the Confederate dioceses returned to their
home in the Episcopal Church, and without apparent theological disputing.
One country; one Anglican Church: the principle prevailed after 1865 as it had been accepted in
1789. Some small bodies split off later--the Reformed Episcopal Church for one--but never
until very recently has an Episcopal diocese claimed it could separate in a body from the
national Church. The same principle has generally held, moreover, in the wider Anglican
Communion, as British possessions gained political independence: the Church of New Zealand
(with its own strikingly different prayer book that utilizes the Maori language along with
English), the Church of Canada, of Australia, etc. Exceptions exist (India, I think) but are
rare. In no cases I know of are two or more Anglican bodies mixed together in a single
geographical area.
Well, then, what does the General Convention do? The Episcopal Church is a real body beyond
congregation and diocese: it has an address (often derided as a symbol of bureaucracy, "815"
on Second Avenue in New York). It has telephone and fax numbers, e-mail, officers, committees
and commissions, seminaries, a constitution, rules, standards (canons), and a busy calendar
into which its activities are fitted. Within that Church, the General Convention is the highest
authority.
Maybe even more important, we became in one way or another, as individuals, members of that
Episcopal Church, although we are at the same time members of a parish, of a diocese, of the
Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church, and we are "Anglicans." Even so, we live and worship
together as Episcopalians, as do those who work at "815."
Our General Convention was unique at its creation and in some cases became an influential
model for more recently-created Anglican provinces. The matters for which it is responsible,
supervises, or guides makes up a very long list. Its powers are not unlimited, however; it is
not a many-headed pope, but the range of its activities is comprehensive.
The General Convention, comprising the bishops of the church and "deputies" both lay and clergy
elected within their diocesan conventions, chooses the executive officers of the Church, votes
on changes in the Church's constitution, approves (or rejects) liturgical proposals, and enacts
canons (or changes old ones) governing virtually every subject a church could be concerned with.
The Executive Council, itself a creature of the Convention, is responsible for most of what
arises while the Convention is not in session.
So the General Convention is, if you will, a "full-service" governing body on a democratic
model. It serves as a legislature, empowers executive bodies, and prescribes judicial and
disciplinary procedures. If you want to know how the clergy are supposed to prepare couples
for Holy Matrimony, there is a canon on the subject. If you are curious about the steps and
requirements for becoming a candidate for ordination, there are canons on that too. If you
want to try a bishop for something or test an experimental service to bless something--or
somebody--the canons contain something relevant. World missions, seminaries, and the Church
Pension Fund are all among the activities authorized, supervised, or carried out. The General
Convention touches these matters (and many more) even as the canons affirm for a diocese
explicit authority in whatever affects only itself.
Remarkably the Constitution of the Episcopal Church provided from the start a government
depending heavily on the laity, representing the same democratic impulse that the Federal
Constitution served at the same time. The Convention's House of Deputies is divided into two
equal "orders," laity and clergy. Most important matters can pass only with the vote of both
orders as well as that of the House of Bishops. No pontiff or body of prelates rules, and
the Presiding Bishop votes as one bishop among the rest.
The other most striking characteristic of the General Convention is its flexibility in meeting
the needs of a changing nation and church during the two centuries the Episcopal Church has
existed.
Englishness was not popular in post-revolutionary America. Many potential Episcopalians were
still hiding under their beds in fear of tar and feathers; others simply went to Canada.
Necessarily the Church started small, almost invisible in most communities. It grew slowly,
largely confined as it was to the extreme eastern edge of the continent.
The original leaders of the Episcopal Church were white, male, property-holders. Women could
not be elected to the General Convention or serve on parish vestries, let alone become ordained
clergy. Most African-Americans were slaves and rarely appeared in Episcopal churches.
From that beginning the General Convention sent missionaries across the middle of the nation
and into the West. Contrary to legend, bishops did sometimes arrive before the railroad.
The Civil War, however, and the regular disputings carried on between high- and low- Church
Episcopalians, between those of catholic inclination and those who remained Protestant to the
core, were obstacles, but most of the time the peace was kept, sometimes barely and sometimes
only by authorizing new dioceses to keep the combatants apart.
By 1900 some African-Americans had been ordained, but I can still remember when it was illegal
in many states to join people of differing races in marriage. At that time, there was only
one known black communicant in Wichita Falls.
Nor had agitation for women's rights got very far when I was ordained. Women were still
confined to the "Auxiliary," the body of female assistant-Christians I suppose. Their time
in the Convention or in Holy Orders--or even on vestries--was not yet.
Needless to say most of the old rules relating to gender and race have faded, although not
entirely gone. 108 of the Church's 111 dioceses accept women as priests and bishops, and
that has happened since the General Convention authorized their ordination in 1976. It seems
likely that the number of non-conforming dioceses will soon be reduced. No rules now limit
access to the Church's common life by African-Americans or any other racial or ethnic group,
although no one would claim all barriers imposed by custom have been removed. Sexual
orientation certainly continues to create controversy, and our General Convention has not yet
reached final conclusions.
A visible expression of the General Convention's role is in the "new" Book of Common Prayer,
prepared by the Liturgical Commission, extensively discussed, and then authorized in 1979.
Here a great deal of what the old "high church" faction asked for has come to pass. The
Eucharistic Liturgy now includes three lessons, rather than two, so there is room for an Old
Testament reading for congregations whose principal Sunday service is the Eucharist--and this
has come to mean most congregations. The new book also provides many special observances and
ceremonies--for Ash Wednesday and Holy Week, in particular, as well as remembrances of many
saints and special days not previously included in the Church's official calendar. The
congregation's role in the Eucharist has been given greater emphasis.
Reflect on the identity of the Episcopal Church in 1789 and compare it with what we are today.
With all our eccentricities and stubbornness it seems to me that we have come a long way and
that the General Convention has served us well, shaping our experience as Christians,
transforming and enriching this community of faith.
This is called leadership and is a precious gift. The credit, for so I believe it is, has to
be shared: the Nation has provided examples at times; saintly and brilliant men and women
have gone ahead of most of us; and our General Convention has done what it was supposed to do.
It has led.
In some matters the Church has moved slowly, but not always. To refer to the Episcopal Church
as Bishop Iker and others sometimes do as the "General Convention Church" is no doubt
intended to be insulting or demeaning. I believe, however we should receive the label with
pride and a sense of honor. We were never a large church, and we are not going to become one,
but there is nothing sacred about mere size. "Sacred" is about other, more important,
things.
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