5:00 a.m.

The Episcopal Church (of which I am a member) will likely split in the next few years from the larger Anglican Communion over the contentious issue of homosexuality. This, a brief excerpt from somewhere in the middle of the “St. Andrew’s Day Statement” issued by the Church of England in 1995, is the most liberating word I’ve come across on the subject:

“At the deepest ontological level, therefore, there is no such thing as ‘a’ homosexual or ‘a’ heterosexual; there are human beings, male and female, called to redeemed humanity in Christ, endowed with a complex variety of emotional potentialities and threatened by a complex variety of forms of alienation.”

The entire text appears here and is well worth reading: http://www.episcopalian.org/cclec/paper-st-andrews-day.htm

This weekend we had a party for a friend turning 50 and a few (16; she has many more) of her friends. Somehow it all worked, though if you’re hosting, you’re in a kind of parallel state of consciousness—assessing things like when to shepherd people from table back into the living room for coffee and birthday cake—too soon and you risk cutting short some great conversations, too late and people get restless.  It’s a little like theater, another post for another time.  

In attendance were two young R.C. priests, one of whom reported having officiated at 15 funerals in 10 days—more than normal, he said, but not much more. This is what the priest shortage looks like “on the ground.” Their parishes are north of Boston and they seem remarkably cheerful, all things considered. A portion from an email the next day from the other one:   

“Regarding something you mentioned in your last email, one of the most memorable lessons learned in Church history class (Anglican and Roman) was that before the rise of a professional theologians’ “guild” in the late Middle Ages (abetted, no doubt, by a drop in literacy rates and a move away from the vernacular), all theology was done in an ecclesial context, in response to challenges, controversies, and difficulties, as the Church endeavored to carry out the Great Commission.  Most of the patristic classics were written by bishops, priests, or monks responding to the pastoral challenges of the day in their local churches.  Therefore, in a very real sense, all theological endeavors — and all theologians — were amateur.  This is not to say it was not learned — quite the contrary — but pre-medieval Christian theology stuck pretty close to the questions posed by the life and work of the Church, rather than by philosophical speculation on the part of the theologian.  So, hooray for amateur theologians, who have many illustrious forebears numbered among their ranks!”