February 3, 2013

Stephen Donald

Epiphany 4     Luke 4:21-30     1 Corinthian 13:1-13

Video available on YouTube, Facebook

Tenei te mihi ki a koutou mai Te Aitanga a Hauiti, te iwi kainga o Uawanui a Ruamatua, me nga iwi katoa o Te Tairawhiti. Greetings from the people of Tolaga Bay and the East Coast among whom I have lived and worked for many years and who continue to provide me with validation of my ministry and personhood, as I work out my vocation as a priest of the Church.

The phrase ‘What would Jesus Do?’ was popular in the 1990s. It’s usually associated with evangelical Christians, focusing on a holiness code of good works and piety. But I reckon WWJD could be run as a litmus test on many of the issues which face our Churches today, not least those around sexuality, ordination and marriage.

Luke reports that Jesus’ home congregation at Nazareth accepted his fine words so long as it didn’t require them to make any radical change in their attitudes or lifestyles; in response he named their complacency for what it was. Not the way to win friends and influence people you might think, and Luke records that this didn’t end well.

I’ve served most of my lay and ordained ministry in isolated rural districts and provincial cities within the diocese of Waiapu, where the relationship between pastor, congregation and community are close, at times too close for comfort. In East Coast parish (north of Gisborne, not the North Shore!) where I’ve served nearly nine years, I am closely related to many of those I serve among, so understand something the challenges faced by Jesus among his own.

In 1981, I held differing views on the Springbok tour from my rugby-mad whanau at Tolaga Bay. In the interests of peace and harmony, I kept my opinions to myself, rarely ‘outing’ myself except in trusted, usually non-familial company. Maintaining relationships was more important in my mid-20s than publicly opposing the tour. These days I’m much more outspoken, and take seriously the notion that Christ’s mission is to ‘afflict the comfortable – and comfort the afflicted’. Occasionally I get in trouble, and after today’s sermon appears on the St Matthew’s website, will be a marked man!

I’ve spent the last two days at the hermeneutics hui at Holy Trinity Cathedral. Like many others, I find the endless and circular discussions in the Anglican Church on homosexuality tiresome and de-energising; as we would say back home, tino whakahōhā. As a gay man I am sick of being objectified as a problem to be solved, and am appalled at the amount of time, energy and resource expended when much more important issues lie at our doorstep.

I reckon its patriarchy, misogyny, and fear of the unknown, rather than homosexuality, that are the problem. These power issues have justice implications for all of church life, impacting on the least powerful, including women, children and racial minorities, as much as those of us who are gay, lesbian, takatāpui or transgender. Just as in earlier decades, many in the Church could not possibly imagine a Maori, a woman or a divorcee holding office as a priest or bishop, to some the idea of sexually active gay men or lesbians in church leadership roles is abhorrent. There were some glimmers of hope (more later) and a growing trust, especially within our small groups, over the two days of the hui.

At my ordination I was ‘called to live out the demands of Christ’s love’ with ‘strength and humility’, qualities that are not limited by race, gender, sexual orientation or relationship status. A lifetime in the Anglican Church and twenty three years as a priest has taught me God uses us best as channels of Christ’s light and love when we live authentically and honestly. We continue down the path of denial at our peril; suppressing honest sexuality and sexual expression creates unsafe and unhealthy environments for clergy, congregations and the communities we serve.

Now that little rant’s off my chest, I have to declare I’m fascinated by sex; not in a prurient or voyeuristic sense, but in the open discussion of sexuality as an essential part of being human – and being Christian. In an age of HIV and AIDS, increasingly virulent strains of many STIs, and a continuing high rate of teenage pregnancy, good sexual knowledge, healthy attitudes and safe behaviours are essential, especially for our young people.

For many straight people, sex is mostly something you ‘do’; although I would challenge that notion, but that’s for another time. However those of us in sexual minorities are defined by our passions and desires; and especially in the eyes of the heterosexual majority, it’s who we are. This isn’t stuff learned on our mother’s knee – and role models are definitely lacking; we are forced to understand the complexities of sexuality in a way most straight people can’t even imagine. Of course it’s rather flattering in my mid-fifties to still be seen as a sexual being!

This knowledge and understanding is a gift we queer Christians can offer to the wider community (notice how many gay men are involved in sexual health education and advocacy) but mostly our contribution is ignored by the Churches. We can and must talk about sex and sexuality in our churches; as the kaiawhina at our local clinic said to me, ‘the Church talking about sex in healthy and relevant ways is a powerful thing. This gives permission for us all.’

I understand being gay as a gift in itself, and despite all the so-called disadvantages, I now couldn’t imagine any other way of being. Our marginality and difference give us insight and empathy, and as recognised in some cultures, special spiritual gifts. It’s likely the medieval Church, and particularly the religious orders, were far more than a refuge for sexual minorities unable to conform to the expectations of marriage; their particular contribution made these institutions into spiritual powerhouses.

Countryman and Ridley, writing in their 2001 book, Gifted by Otherness, consider gay and lesbian Christians are a sign of grace to, and a bridge between, the Church and the queer community. They also say that gay men can be a beacon for straight men, modelling another way of being male in a patriarchal society. Bill Countryman writes:

‘It will benefit the whole of society if gay men can make use of their own experience of maleness, and their ability to focus on men, discovering or creating ways of being male that will be an improvement on much of what we have inherited, with its emphasis on competition and its acceptance of violence.’

Given the Church’s often appalling record of vilification, prejudice, and just plain invisibility, I understand those LGBT who feel their only choice is to walk away from Christianity. Such is the bitterness and hurt that at some queer gatherings it’s almost as dangerous to ‘come out’ as Christian, as it is to ‘come out’ as gay in some churches. I am particularly concerned about young people who, facing confusion around their sexuality, feel unwelcome in our churches and unloved by God; the continuing high rate of youth suicide is not unrelated.

Recently I spent two months in Clay’s home city of San Francisco; I was encouraged to experience the high regard our Episcopalian sisters and brothers are held there. The effective response of the Episcopal Church during the AIDS pandemic of the 80s and 90s, and their ongoing inclusiveness, including many senior clergy being in same-gender unions, was notable. Some congregations have large numbers of gay and lesbian parents and their children, and specialised ministries to cater for the needs of queer Christians.

Today’s epistle is Paul’s famous love poem, often heard at weddings. This reading provides a happy alignment to the Gospel, for underpinning all words of prophecy, is love. Love provides the counterpoint for truth-telling, and note that nowhere in this chapter does God gets a mention. Paul is throwing the entirety of a loving response upon us; we are the ones called to love, and love overrides all careful exegesis, theological speculation or canonical determination.

One of the surprises of recent weeks has been a change of attitude by leading British evangelical and Baptist pastor, Steve Chalke. Reflecting on the current U.K. debate on marriage equality, Chalke writes, in an essay entitled ‘A Matter of Integrity’:

I'm worried that the noise of the arguments around gay marriage will cloud and confuse the real question for the Church, which is about the nature of inclusion. I am convinced that it is only as the Christian community grapples with this that we will find wise answers, not only regarding gay marriage, but also to related questions around the Church's wider attitude to gay people... I have formed my view not out of any disregard for the Bible's authority, but by way of grappling with it and, through prayerful reflection, seeking to take it seriously.

Pastor Chalke has faced criticism from his fellow evangelicals for his new-found inclusion, who consider he has ‘broken ranks’ and ‘let the side down’, particularly the blessing of the relationship of two gay men in his congregation. He helpfully recognises that Scripture does not always provide the answers to the questions faced by Christians in any particular age, citing the abolition of slavery and emancipation of women as but two examples.

And just yesterday at the hermeneutics hui, Bishop Victoria Matthews of Christchurch, gave a brilliant presentation on the past, present and future of marriage. The changing nature of marriage, the idea of covenant, and whether there is any distinct Christian marriage (or just marriage of Christians) were not new ideas to me, two points stand out:

- through the Bible, and especially in the Hebrew scriptures, its during times of threat to culture and religion that exogamy (restrictions on marrying outside Jewish society) were practised; in times of confidence and prosperity that endogamy (marrying outside the group) was acceptable; gatekeeping was not required.

- Secondly, in a discussion of various 'states' (marriage, community, singleness and voluntary celibacy) and whether this 'completed' us as human beings, Bishop Victoria said that 'Christians are made whole by Christ, not the marriage bed'.

Out of these she cautiously concludes (she is a bishop after all!) that same-gender unions could be seen as part of the Church's blessed relationships.

Many of our Anglican congregations are less than a generation away from extinction, and we face big decisions about the future of some historic buildings and other property. Whether or not we ordain openly gay or lesbian clergy, or recognise same-gender unions as valid within the Church, inclusion will not turn round church decline or solve our earthquake-risk problems.

But if this Church is brave enough to do so, the positive impact on the lives of those most directly affected, through working out their vocation, receiving the Church’s blessing of their relationships, or just plain feeling welcome, will be immense. Such inclusion will signal to all, queer and straight, that the Anglican Church is open and non-judgemental, and takes seriously sex and sexuality as a normal part of human life. Given the concluding discussion at the hermeneutics hui, none of this going to be an easy journey, but if we are prepared to work through our brokenness as a Church, and face a future together in 'bonds of affection', the journey is going to be worth the effort.

WWJD? What would Jesus do in the present situation in our Church? We cannot know for sure, but I suggest his words and actions at the Nazareth synagogue give us a hefty hint. Kia ora tatou. Amen.