[Dialogue] Spong on the church and scripture
KroegerD at aol.com
KroegerD at aol.com
Thu Aug 10 01:17:16 EST 2006
August 9, 2006
The Ambivalent Church
There is something fundamentally flawed about institutional Christianity
today. I see it in two distinct places. It was clearly present when I listened
to ecclesiastical figures talk about the election of a female bishop to be
primate of the Episcopal Church in the USA. The other is found both in the tone
and content of the debate on the issue of human sexuality that consumes the
energy of the Christian Church today. In this column, I want to examine both of
these phenomena with the suggestion that they are deeply related.
A chorus of less than celebratory comments by Anglican Church leaders greeted
the election of Katharine Jefferts-Schori to be presiding bishop of the
Episcopal Church.
Seeking to be positive, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, sounded
more like the sympathy seeker he seems to have become. "Poor Rowan Williams"
is the way people refer to him today across the United Kingdom as he
describes how difficult his role is. Instead of being the leader he is capable of
being, he has become a chronic whiner about the task of keeping Anglican unity
as if that is an appropriate vocation for its titular head. In his statement
about America's new primate, he welcomed Bishop Jefferts-Schori to her new
responsibilities and promised to be supportive of her ministry but proclaimed
that her election would place a strain on the bonds of Anglican unity. I
presume that he thinks the continued oppression of women throughout the Communion
would somehow strengthen the bonds of Anglican unity. Surely, any student of
history will tell you that as new consciousness and values emerge, those who
have built power bases on an old consciousness and dying values will be
threatened and will seek to defeat the new ideas. History does not move backwards
and once any prejudice is debated publicly, it has already begun to die.
There are no exceptions to this rule in history.
The Episcopal Bishop of Fort Worth, Texas, Jack Iker, greeted Bishop
Jefferts-Schori's election as primate by immediately appealing to the Archbishop of
Canterbury for protection of his institutionalized sexism. There were two
things pathetically pitiful about this appeal. First, the Archbishop of
Canterbury has no authority whatsoever over the American Episcopal Church. Second,
the ordination of women has been in effect canonically in the American Church
for 30 years. Forty percent of the Episcopal clergy are now women, sixty
percent of our theological students are women, and 15 of our bishops are women.
All of those steps were achieved according to the canons that bind the
membership of this church and especially its bishops. There is no authority beyond
that of the national governing body of any province of the Anglican Communion.
This part of the Christian Church is now and always has been a confederation
of national bodies with no central authority. The once-every-ten-years
gathering of Anglican bishops of the world is for consultation only, with the power
to speak to the churches but never for the churches. Jack Iker knew all of
these things when he was ordained priest and promised to conform "to the
discipline of this church." He accepted election to the Episcopal office in a
church that already had both women priests and women bishops. I helped him be
confirmed in his Episcopal post both with my vote and with my public support
among progressive bishops. He needed every vote he could get and squeezed in by
the narrowest of margins. I supported his election because I treasure the
catholic broadness of my church. We are and must be broad enough to welcome and
include the Jack Ikers of the world. Now he struggles to narrow the
boundaries of this church that had to be stretched to include him, to the place where
only he and his few acolytes are members. It is strange logic but religion
produces quite irrational manifestations from time to time. Now, instead of
facing reality, he wants someone to protect him from having to adjust to
reality, but adjust he must. If he cannot do so, he should vacate his office instead
of begging for special treatment.
He is joined in this sad chorus made up of a handful of malcontents, who have
cultivated negativity for some years now. They have not won on any issue
before this church in the last century, from desegregation, to prayer book
revision, to women priests, to women bishops, to inclusion of gay and lesbian
people. They portray themselves as God's sole supporters in a world going to
hell. They remind me of the lament of Elijah in the book of Kings where the
prophet bemoaned the fact that he alone was faithful to God. That story says that
the Lord opened his eyes to see thousands who "had not bowed the knee to
Baal." It is a peculiar form of mental illness to think that everyone other than
you is wrong. The Church has every responsibility to love those that the
world has left behind. They are hurting people, fragile people, living in pain.
However, the Church has no responsibility to accommodate them, to promise them
that their dying point of view and their dated prejudices will be respected.
They have no reason to expect that either the Church or the world will slow
down so that they can catch up. People complained that the unity of the
Church was violated when black people demanded access and equality. Would this
present group of unity seekers want the Church to accommodate racism by trying
to keep the slaveholders happy? Of course not. In a similar manner, unity is
not served by tolerating the sin of patriarchy or the sin of homophobia.
I remember well the rhetoric of the era when race dominated the church's
debate. In 1948, when I dared to suggest that all Episcopal young people, black
and white, should be invited to the Youth Convention of the Diocese, my
bishop, Edwin Anderson Penick, said to me: "Jack, the people of the Church in North
Carolina are not ready for integration." Which people were not ready, I
wondered? The black people were quite ready. The younger clergy, whose
consciences had been raised to the evil of segregation, were quite ready. The people
who were not ready were the bigoted ones who were unprepared not just to give
up but even to face their prejudice. "The Church," in the name of some
bizarre definition of unity, coddled them by a continued rejection of people of
color and their allies until that stance became absurd.
Peter Jensen, Archbishop of Sydney, Australia, probably the most backward and
fundamentalist Diocese in the entire Anglican Communion, says that the
battle over homosexuality is a battle about "the authenticity and authority of
Scripture." That is absolute balderdash! It is about the misuse of scripture in
the cause of continued ignorance! For centuries the Bible was quoted on the
wrong side of every public issue. It was quoted to oppose the Magna Carta, to
condemn Galileo, to discriminate against Jews, to justify war, to uphold
slavery and segregation, to oppress women and to persecute homosexuals. The Bible
lost every one of those battles. Peter Jensen is so afraid of reality that,
more than anyone I know; he tries to control access to truth in his
archdiocese. He made his brother the Dean of the Cathedral in Sydney, appointed his
son to the faculty of Moore Theological Seminary in Sydney and employed his
wife on the staff of the Archdiocese of Sydney. For a priest to serve in that
diocese, he (no she's are allowed) must be a Moore Seminary graduate. For a
professor to teach at Moore Seminary, he must be a Moore graduate. Moore
Theological Seminary would make Bob Jones University look moderate! Can truth ever
be engaged by those who believe they possess it and are afraid to listen to
anyone else? I view that as hysteria, not confidence. Archbishop Jensen does
not know the difference between freedom and bondage, between power and truth,
between himself and God. Why any institution, with leaders like these, would
appeal to anyone other than frightened, insecure people who hide from reality,
simply escapes my imagination.
The second question is what is the basis of the Church's claim to possess som
e expertise on the issues of human sexuality? This is the same group that
said: "Celibacy is the pathway to holiness." It is far more often the pathway to
sexual guilt and to the sexual violation of the weak and vulnerable. This is
the institution that said the ideal woman is a "virgin mother," reducing all
women to a sense of inadequacy. They defined virtue in women as being a
"permanent virgin." I suppose that made sense to the celibate males who did the
defining, but it makes sense to no one else. This is the institution that
tells us that birth control is evil, that condoms used to stop AIDS even among
married people is sinful, that women are defective males and that homosexuals
are morally depraved or mentally ill. Is that a track record to inspire
confidence? This is the institution that wants to root out homosexuals from
studying for the priesthood, but is not about to purge gay men from the ordained
ranks, where they now serve at the highest levels and in numbers that are
breathtakingly large but real.
The debate on sexuality inside institutional Christianity is revelatory of
the fact that this institution parted company with reality years ago. It is on
the losing side of this battle. It is doing the dance of the dying,
exhibiting the final shake of rigor mortis.
What hope do we have for the future of the Church? My hope is in an
increasing number of people in groups around the world who want to be Christians
without closing their minds to new truth. They want to embrace the real world,
not some fantasyland of make believe. They are small cells watching the Church
they love from within as it flails away in the losing battle of trying to
suppress every controversy that emerges when new truth demands attention. They
are ready for a new day. That new day is coming no matter how desperately the
Vatican, Canterbury, Church Synods and Councils try to hold it back. I welcome
it.
John Shelby Spong
_Note from the Editor: Bishop Spong's new book is available now at
bookstores everywhere and by clicking here!_
(http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0060762055/agoramedia-20)
Question and Answer
With John Shelby Spong
Kurt Kenworth of Claremont, California, writes:
Recognizing that the Bible consists of many books by many authors over a
1,000 year period of time, and assuming that no major additions to the Bible
have been attempted since the King James Version was published 400 years ago or
so, and further noting that a stupendous amount of information about changes
in the secular world, which seem to be accelerating, are now before us do you
think a major addition, such as another "testament" or "New Testament No. 2"
or an authorized supplement to the Bible (other than modern era
re-translations that have been printed even in the 20th century, and which appear to be
entirely self-serving) is in order? If so, might such an addition help
theologians reduce the irrelevance of their teachings and answer many of the
questions raised by your latest book, "The Sins of Scripture?"
If so, who could write it, who could publish it, and who could be induced to
read it? Who, of all our religious leaders now in positions of power would be
in support of such a development and could be induced to accept it inasmuch
as, surely, they would see it as a threat to their power? It might be the
only way to make religion relevant again as it once was in ancient times, in my
opinion. What do you think?
Dear Kurt,
Thank you for your letter and your question. Let me first clarify an issue
you raise. The King James Version was a translation of the Scriptures not an
addition to the Scriptures. It was a very important piece of work that utilized
the best knowledge available to Christians at that time of history. The
study of both language and texts and the discovery of many things about that
biblical period of history have served, however, to make the scholarship that
underlies the King James translation much less respected in academic circles
that it once was.
The other issue you raise is far more important. That whether or not it was
proper to close the Canon of scripture when the Church did and to suggest
thereby that the revelation of God and God's purposes ended about 135 C.E. when
II Peter, generally regarded as the last book of the New Testament, was
written.
Was there no new insight to come out of Christianity after it was recognized
by Constantine in 313? When Augustine related Christianity to the thoughts of
Plato in the 4th and 5th centuries, was none of that worthy of being
incorporated into the Canon of Christian scripture? When Thomas Aquinas rethought
Christianity in the 13th century in terms of the thoughts of Aristotle, was
not some part of that work worthy of inclusion? Were there no voices out of the
Reformation that rose to the level of scripture? When liturgies were shaped
in the 13th century, should not the account of that have been incorporated
into our sacred story? If the book of Acts that chronicled events in the first
century or epistles that addressed issues in the Church in the first century
were thought of as sacred scripture, why not events and issues that shaped
Christianity in other centuries?
Next there is the issue of the voices that were excluded from the Bible by
our prejudices. No voices of women are heard in the Bible. Did 50% of the human
race never think a thought or say a word that we might call "The Word of
God?" There are no voices of ethnic minorities. Does the word of God come only
through Middle Eastern males? Should Martin Luther King's "Letter from a
Birmingham Jail" be read as an epistle to the Church? I consider it a tragedy that
the Bible was closed to all new additions in the early years of the second
century, when Christianity had just begun its journey through history.
There are two ways to remedy this. One is the way you suggest. We could
supplement the Bible with many things. You have identified some of the problems
of this approach. Who would write it? What would be included? Who would publish
it? Who would read it? Given the divisions in Christianity today, I cannot
see how agreement or consensus would ever be achieved. In another way, we
would simply be lifting other writings into our version of scripture. This
approach would also continue the present trend to view the Bible as the
authoritative Word of God as the new additions began to be viewed with the same
authority claims that we have applied to the old.
Another way to proceed would be to attack overtly that biblical idolatry by
which people seem to worship the Bible in general and the New Testament in
particular instead of God. We need to cease investing this book with claims of
inerrancy and recognize the Bible for what it is: a compilation of human
attempts to describe and interpret the meaning found in the critical moments of
our spiritual development, for that is what the Bible is.
If we de-emphasized the texts of the scriptures so that those books then
became important expressions of a special time in Christian history but not the
inerrant or infallible 'words of God,' then other works could be elevated to
stand with equality beside the books of the Bible in our unfolding faith
story.
I believe that approach has promise.
John Shelby Spong
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