What follows is very disturbing to those of us who believe that what is at stake is no “power play” and which concerns the healing of the world and the Gospel of Salvation rather than the “inclusivity” and a message of deceit.
Volume 76, Number 22 | October 18 – 24, 2006 of something called “The Villager”
By Jefferson Siegel
In a city like New York, houses of worship are a sort of anomaly. Unlike most apartments, churches have spacious interiors, the door is never locked and it’s really quiet inside.
Behind the peaceful facade, though, swirl undercurrents of political and social discord. Caught in the eye of one recent storm was the newly consecrated bishop of the diocese of New Hampshire, Gene Robinson.
Three years ago, Robinson became the first openly gay priest to be elevated to bishop in the Episcopal Church.
“The archbishop of Kenya said that the devil entered the church when I was consecrated,” he recounted last week during a visit to General Theological Seminary in Chelsea. “The archbishop of Nigeria says gay folks are lower than the dogs.”
Robinson’s consecration to bishop and, to a larger extent, gay church members coming out have created a serious divide in the Episcopal Church. Robinson received death threats.
“I had to wear a bulletproof vest to my own consecration as bishop,” he said. Divisions ran so deep that, in the event of a bomb or gunshots, plans were made to evacuate him from the ceremony to a secret location.
Last Thursday, Robinson returned to the institution where he received his master’s of divinity, the seminary on Ninth Ave. Several hundred people mingled in the seminary’s peaceful courtyard, known as The Close, before gathering in the chapel to hear an address from one of their most notable graduates.
Inside the sanctuary, the evening’s tone was set by the repetition of one theme: inclusion.
Ward B. Ewing, the seminary’s dean and president, called Robinson, “a man of great courage, one who has brought our community in the Episcopal Church light years closer to the ideal of full inclusion.”
Ewing introduced City Council Speaker Christine Quinn, the first openly gay leader of the New York City Council. Quinn recalled that sexual orientation was not an issue when she sought the speaker’s office and that when she was sworn in, “I was proud that, in the greatest city in the world, diversity was seen as a strength.”
“To forge ahead,” she told the assemblage in praising Robinson, “even in the face of people who would go to any length possible to prevent you from holding this job just because of who you are, that is courage.
“If you believe in yourself, if you define yourself, if you love yourself, you can overcome any odds that anybody puts in front of you,” Quinn concluded to applause.
Before entering the chapel to deliver his address, Robinson sat down with a reporter in one of the seminary’s schoolrooms and fielded questions on a wide range of subjects.
Although he grew up in a fundamentalist background in Kentucky, he noted, “I did escape, as you can see.” He described his return to Chelsea as a true homecoming. He observed that the seminary has been making an effort to reach out to the surrounding community, and, in his view, is creating an inclusive church.
He senses an excitement in the Episcopal Church.
“We’ve just elected a woman a presiding bishop. She’s the first woman ever to be elected to the post of archbishop and I think that is yet another signal of how the Episcopal Church is taking very seriously our call to love and include all of God’s children.” Katharine Jefferts-Schori, the bishop of Nevada, will be installed the first Saturday in November and serve at the church’s national headquarters in New York.
As for recent tensions within the church over a policy of inclusion in several parishes, Robinson said, “Those who are disaffected and angry…are threatening to leave, but they haven’t left yet. They have begun talking about this as a divorce.”
Robinson finds himself at the center of the controversy.
“Those who see my election and consecration as a bishop of the church as a good thing are saying, ‘There’s no reason for us to come apart over this.’”
He praised the Anglican Communion for its relative tolerance on such hot-button issues as abortion and stem-cell research.
“None of those things has caused us to come apart,” he observed.
Robinson suspects a power play is in effect.
“These people weren’t threatening to leave [the church] when they were getting their way in our national convention. But when they started to lose the vote, they began to question whether or not the Holy Spirit was working in convention.”
“You can’t have it both ways,” he added.
Regarding opposition within the church over his having a partner and, thus, not being celibate, Robinson was forthright.
“I think this is another instance in which the church got it wrong,” he explained. “God didn’t get it wrong, but the church did. It’s happened before.
“We got it wrong about slavery as recently as 150 years ago. We didn’t start ordaining women until 30 years ago. We got it wrong about women. I believe we are in a time where we are beginning to understand that we got it wrong about L.G.B.T. people,” he said.
“Those very few passages, and there are a maximum of seven of them in all of scripture, seem to be talking about homosexuality. Even the word ‘homosexual’ or any notion of homosexual orientation is only about 100 years old. You can’t read a modern concept like that back into an ancient text, as if that’s what they were talking about,” he explained.
“Even if you look at those seven passages,” he continued, “it seems to me that that’s one of the places where the texts are culturally bound and are not binding on us for all time.”
Robinson believes homosexuality is an issue in every denomination, since so many members of the church have started to come out.
“Fifteen years ago, most people in the United States would have told you that they didn’t know anyone gay or lesbian,” he noted. “The thing that has changed is, people that they already knew and already loved have come out. Sons and daughters, aunts and uncles, next-door neighbors, co-workers have come out and, all of a sudden, there’s a disconnect in their minds, because they know these people. They love and respect these people.”
Are the East and West Coasts more tolerant of the issue than Middle America? Yes, Robinson said. Otherwise, he observed, “Chelsea wouldn’t be Chelsea.”
“As more and more people who never left Iowa begin to come out and people begin to understand that we are their teachers and their garbage collectors and their firemen, I think that’s going to change,” he predicted.
What about certain code words and phrases President Bush incorporates in his speeches that are intended to appeal to a fundamentalist ethic?
“I don’t, certainly, support any kind of manipulation of people,” he responded. “What I think needs to be done is that we need to take back religion from the religious right. I think most mainline denominations, those that would have a more liberal view, have faded into the background and allowed the Jerry Falwells and Pat Robertsons of the world to speak for all Christians everywhere.”
As to whether he feels he is an inspiration to still-closeted gays in the church, Robinson demurred, “With my head I understand that, but it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like I’m just putting one foot in front of the other.
“For every person who is out, who is known to be out and leads a life that, someone else might say, ‘I’m gay and could do that,’ and it’s a great thing. So, I am honored to be one of many, many role models for young gay and lesbian kids.”
Before leaving the schoolroom to face his audience, Robinson offered one last bit of advice.
“Nothing important has ever been accomplished without risk taking,” he pointed out. “So, I made my peace with that a long time ago. God is very, very close. I don’t want to be a martyr, I just want to be the bishop of New Hampshire.”