Cruelty and Corruption

The proud have derided me cruelly,
but I have not turned from your law.
-Psalm 119:51

This is part of today's Bible reading from the Morning Prayer service of the Daily Office. I admit, I don't often observe the Daily Office, but during Lent I do try to explore ways of adding worship time to my daily life and will sometimes participate in morning or noonday prayer. Today, though, I sought out the daily office because of something I observed on the way to work this morning.

Every morning I take the Red Line train to get from my apartment in Chinatown to the University of Chicago campus. This morning as I was exiting the train at the Garfield station, I noticed two little girls sitting to the right of the door. They were sitting on their knees, facing towards the front of the train so they could see the passing scenery once the train started traveling along its tracks again. As I was stepping onto the platform I noticed that there was a message written on the back of the coat one of the little girls was wearing.

It said, "Sky is dirty."

I didn't really process this message until I was completely off of the train and walking on the platform towards the escalator. It occurred to me that these words were probably written on the coat by another child, a cruel insult to the girl who would be forced to wear this badge of shame every cold day. I can only assume that her parents were unable to launder the message from the coat, and I imagine that the reason she continues to wear this garment is because another winter coat probably isn't something she owns or her family can afford.

I realize I'm making a lot of assumptions here, and I could have misread the entire situation. Nonetheless this whole episode made me start thinking about cruelty. As I pondered cruelty, especially the cruelty of children, I winced to remember acts of cruelty that were perpetrated against me when I was a child, and of things I did and said that were intended to hurt or shame others.

I wondered what - if anything - the readings for the Daily Office might have to say about cruelty, and was intrigued to find the passage from the 119th psalm among the readings for today's morning prayer service. In the psalm the petitioner expresses how joyous it is to follow God's law, even though in doing so he must endure cruelty from those around him. The psalm eventually describes the value of God's law and how trusting in that law will deliver the petitioner into salvation through the Lord.

The recent municipal elections in Chicago, in which Mayor Daley won a sixth term, also got me thinking about cruelty, not to mention trusting in the law. Our mayor won re-election handily, despite the widespread (and, likely accurate) perception that he and his administration are corrupt. It doesn't matter, people have told me, if his administration is corrupt because the city is a cleaner, better place to live in than it was when he first came into office.

If corruption is the price we pay for a nicer city, is that not a price too dear? Someone even told me today with nary a hint of irony that the mayor may be corrupt, but he is fair. To me, that sounds like a convenient bit of double-speak that serves to salve one's conscience. If corruption is what keeps the city functioning, doesn't that require that someone is getting the raw end of the deal? And shouldn't we be concerned about them?

There is a phrase in the confession of sin we recite each week at church where we ask to be forgiven for the sins committed on our behalf. Living better through corruption is a sin committed by others on our behalf, and thus we are culpable for it. We would do well to remember that.

But we may be too cruel even to care.

We're Here, We're Anglican, Get Over It

When I scanned the front page of the New York Times on Tuesday morning, I was drawn to two articles because of their striking images. The first was at the bottom of the page:

This image features The Most Rev'd. Rowan Williams, Archbishop of Canterbury (right) and The Most Rev'd. Donald Mtetemela, Archbishop of Tanzania. The image accompanied a news story discussing the recent Anglican Primates Meeting in Tanzania. At this meeting, the majority of Anglican primates rebuked the Episcopal Church in the United States for their ordination of the Rt. Rev'd. Gene Robinson, Bishop of New Hampshire and for their continuing blessing of same-sex unions.

The second image that struck me, and frankly gave me a bit of an uplift, was this one:

These two ordinary guys in New Jersey are registering for a license to have their union recognized by the State of New Jersey, which on Monday became only the fourth state in the union to recognize either civil unions or same-sex marriage.

These images and their accompanying articles bring into peculiar relief the huge chasm that exists in the cultural attitudes towards homosexuality - or, more to the point, non-heterosexuality - between the United States and nations of the global south. The latter grouping includes the vast majority of the worldwide Anglican communion. Being so great in number and influence, the primates who lead the constituent churches of the Anglican Communion in the global south, especially in Africa and Southeast Asia, have this week stomped their feet once again to rebuke the Episcopal Church in the United States for promoting the utterly ridiculous idea that non-heterosexuals are fully realized members of the body of Christ.

There's been a smattering of comment on this week's meeting from many sources, most of it coming from jubilant conservatives within the Episcopal Church. And who can blame them? I mean, I could hardly wipe the smile off of my face on Nov. 8 last year. Throughout this three-and-a-half year ordeal since Gene Robinson's election was assented to by GenCon, there have been two clear and consistent messages. The first is that the Anglican Communion was committed to listening and discerning the best way forward such that all the different factions could remain in communion with each other. The second is that the conservative churches within the communion would accept nothing less than a full renunciation of Gene Robinson's election - and possibly nothing short of a defrocking - as well as a moratorium on same-sex blessings.

Well, folks, we've gotten none of the first and seemingly half of the second. Anyone care to place bets on how this is going to continue to play out?

I've spouted a lot about this particular insanity in private conversations, and frankly I'm sick of the sound of my own voice. I have too many other things going on in my life to expend any more energy fighting these ridiculous men, some of whom wouldn't even deign to celebrate communion with our Presiding Bishop, the Most Rev'd. Katharine Jefferts Schori. So much for everyone staying in communion; these guys won't even take communion with us, much less stay in communion with us!

I'm not a theologian. I'm a scientist and I'm a pragmatist (I'm sure one led to the other, but I'm not sure in which order). I therefore approach this situation from that perspective. Here's what I see: Clearly there are a good number of folks worldwide, within and without the Anglican Communion, who don't really desire to be in communion with me, or at least not the version of me that lives fully and proudly as a homosexual man. And here's what I'm left with: There is one and only one thing more important than maintaining the order and familial bonds of the Anglican Communion, and that is maintaining the full dignity and humanity of every member of the body of Christ. Frankly if surrendering my own sense of self-worth as well as the hopes, dreams and callings of the next generation of gay men and lesbians who wish to have their unions blessed by their church or who aspire to be priests and bishops is the price that has to be paid to remain in "full communion," then I say to Hell with it. Kick me out of the club.

But I will - and pay attention to this, kittens - I will still show up.

You can ex-communionize me and the Episcopal Church all you want, I'm not leaving. I'll be the one standing outside with the basket of muffins. (I mean, what is church without coffee hour treats?) I'll watch, and I'll pray, and I'll work towards the Millenium Development Goals and I will revel and glory in all the wonderment and grace that is God's eternal love for us as made manifest through His son, Jesus Christ Our Lord.

So just stick that in your miter and bless it.