COMMENTARY: Memo to Canterbury: Episcopalians have a life

(UNDATED) Now that the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, has slapped my church’s wrists for refusing to marginalize homosexuals and has threatened to have us become second-class citizens in the Anglican Communion, I say this to Archbishop Williams: The Episcopal Church has a life. Not a perfect life. In fact, a messy one, a life […]

(UNDATED) Now that the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, has slapped my church’s wrists for refusing to marginalize homosexuals and has threatened to have us become second-class citizens in the Anglican Communion, I say this to Archbishop Williams:

The Episcopal Church has a life. Not a perfect life. In fact, a messy one, a life that could be more than it is. But we do have a life. That life preceded the formation of the Anglican Communion. That life will survive our being marginalized within the Anglican Communion.

There’s nothing we do in our congregations that depends on the Anglican Communion. You have become a weapon in a siege war being waged by a minority who has been resisting change in the Episcopal Church for 50 years.


The first votes were close, but the anti-change position has steadily lost ground. Not because the church came under an evil spell, but because people’s minds and hearts shifted and their understandings of God and mission changed. That happens.

The anti-change minority fights on, however, for by now their fretful arguments against changing “Thou” to “You” and “he” to “he or she” have advanced to holy war against homosexuals.

The battle isn’t about God. It’s about fear, control and property. The anti-change minority wants to reclaim a world that no longer exists. They want to seize property that doesn’t belong to them. Archbishop, you are being used.

If it’s any consolation, Archbishop, I don’t like some of the changes in my church, either. I think we have rewarded institutional tinkering and stopped dreaming. We depend on style and not substance. We worry about inherited property and not about the world outside our doors. We fuss about who is ordained when we should be nurturing healthy congregations.

Fear abounds. Fear of offending longtime members and deep-pocket givers. Fear of speaking freely and dreaming grandly. Fear of trying hard and maybe failing. Fear of preaching a Gospel that is far more radical than anything we have said.

But many are determined to get beyond fear. Not by instilling more fear, but by taking one brave step at a time, learning to be nimble and to listen, learning from our failures, taking risks.


The dilemma facing Episcopalians is that “soon and very soon we are going to see the King.” Our buildings may crumble, our endowments may tumble, and all we have left is each other and our faith. We could be worshipping in open fields and strip malls.

Will we have any song to sing when the great pipe organs are stilled? Will we have any prayer to say when comfortable pews are gone? Will we sit in circles of love when nice parlors are sold? Will we love our neighbors when we cannot hire staff to do it for us?

I think we will have that faith. I think we already have it. It’s just hard to see when so much energy goes into institutionalism and fighting.

I think our best days lie ahead. I doubt that our future will bear much resemblance to our past. But we will discover, once the burden of inherited overhead is lifted, that we have much to give.

And so, Archbishop, rather than try to stir even more fear in a church struggling with fear, I suggest you join Jesus in the commandment he actually did give: “Do not be afraid.”

(Tom Ehrich is a writer, church consultant and Episcopal priest based in New York. He is the author of “Just Wondering, Jesus,” and the founder of the Church Wellness Project, http://www.churchwellness.com. His Web site is http://www.morningwalkmedia.com.)


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