First, and Last, Confession

Barring some unforeseen development, on Sunday Bishop Thomas Breidenthal of the Diocese of Southern Ohio of the Episcopal Church will officially pronounce that I (and about a dozen other folks) have changed denominations and officially joined the Episcopal Church.  As I sit here, 48 hours from this event taking place, I have some unorganized thoughts about where I am and where I might be going.  This is, perhaps, a "confession" in the classical sense of the term.

If I had to pick a single reason for deciding to make this move, it would be that I wanted to live my faith with greater authenticity and personal integrity.  As time has gone on, it is has become increasingly clear to me that I simply don't believe some of the things that the Roman Catholic Church insists that I believe.  I recognize that many people can, happily and with great personal integrity and self-assurance, believe and live those ideas and principles, and while we can debate the impact of some of those beliefs on the lives of others, I can and must accept and respect that judgment of their own individual consciences.  But I don't believe those things, and it became increasingly uncomfortable and spiritually harmful to continue to pretend otherwise.

Eighteen months ago, I attended an Easter Vigil at my former Catholic parish and heard the new Catholics make the following declaration:

I believe and profess all that the holy Catholic Church believes, teaches, and proclaims to be revealed by God.

Sitting there, I was struck by the fact that I could not, in good conscience, affirm that statement.  I didn't at the time, and don't now, believe that everything that is proclaimed by the Roman Catholic Church is divine revelation.  It was a moment of profound dissonance.  I felt like something of a fraud, that I was here on some sort of technicality, while these folks who were joining anew had to sign on to the real deal.

I am well aware of the fact there are many, many people who believe as I do and yet see no particular reason to leave the Roman Catholic Church because of it.  I imagine that there were some people on that evening eighteen months ago who fell into that category.  There is a way of understanding the Roman Catholic Church that encourages one to take statements like the one they make people say at Reception as pro forma, or ambiguous, or subject to qualification.  I was, for a long time, one of the great proponents of these notions, so I get it.

But I have come to a place where I am no longer interested in any of that.  It's not even that I am concerned with being perceived (either by folks inside or outside the church) as a hypocrite or two-faced.  I do worry about that, but it is much more about the fact that I no longer want to be in conflict with my own faith all the time.  It has been exhausting on a personal, spiritual level, and exhausting in that way that you don't even notice because it is pervasive and omnipresent.  I need to be in a place where I'm not having to constantly create space for myself within my own faith.  I need the space to be there already.

With a view toward that notion of personal authenticity, it's worthwhile to look at what exactly I am getting myself into with regard to the Episcopal Church.  Because the Episcopal Church is absolutely asking me to affirm a set of faith commitments, if different in content and approach that that of the Catholic Church.  Does it have the space that I need?

First, I am being asked to affirm the Apostles' Creed:

Bishop      Do you believe in God the Father?
People       I believe in God, the Father almighty,
                   creator of heaven and earth.

Bishop      Do you believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God?
People       I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord.
                  He was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit 
                     and born of the Virgin Mary.
                  He suffered under Pontius Pilate,
                     was crucified, died, and was buried.
                  He descended to the dead.
                  On the third day he rose again.
                  He ascended into heaven,
                     and is seated at the right hand of the Father. 
                  He will come again to judge the living and the dead.

Bishop      Do you believe in God the Holy Spirit?
People      I believe in the Holy Spirit,
                  the holy catholic Church,
                  the communion of saints,    
                  the forgiveness of sins,
                  the resurrection of the body,
                  and the life everlasting.

None of this is unique to the Episcopal Church, and instead goes into the heart of the Christian faith.  I've talked about the Creed at some length before, and while I think I would probably re-write the section on the Holy Spirit if I were redoing that series now, I stand by what I said in that series.  More importantly, I am completely prepared to affirm not only the literal words of the Creeds themselves, but the unknowable mystery behind them.  To paraphrase what Frank Strong said in his absolutely fantastic series on the Creed (here, here, and here), I believe the Creeds are true, and I have my own sense of in what way they are true, but I recognize that neither I nor anyone else will ever able to fully grasp the ways in which they are true.  And, critically, no one is asking me to adopt some particular or singular formulation of the way in which these things are true.  This requires me, requires me, to live gently with those who have different conceptions of the ways in which these mysteries may be true.  We are all walking in the dark on some level, and that means we will bump into one another, and that's OK.

Then, after the standard baptismal formula, the Episcopal Church adds five promises of concrete action:

Bishop      Will you continue in the apostles' teaching and 
               fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers?
People       I will, with God's help.

Bishop      Will you persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever
               you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord?
People       I will, with God's help.

Bishop      Will you proclaim by word and example the Good
               News of God in Christ?
People       I will, with God's help.

Bishop      Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving 
               your neighbor as yourself?
People       I will, with God's help.

Bishop      Will you strive for justice and peace among all 
               people, and respect the dignity of every human being?
People       I will, with God's help. 

As I see it, I am being asked to do five things.  First, I am being asked to be a liturgical person--to participate and immerse myself in the order of worship as set forth in the form used by the Episcopal Church (which is on an evolutionary arc from the form used by the earliest Christians).  Second, I am being asked to commit myself to what the Benedictines call "conversion of life"--the slow, sometimes uneven, process of conforming my life to the example of Christ and developing a "Christ consciousness."  Third, I am being asked to be an evangelist for the Gospel.  Fourth, I am being asked to be a person of service to others.  Finally, I am being asked to be a person committed to living and advocating for social justice.

While there is great flexibility about how to go about doing these five things, the five commitments are not infinitely plastic.  These are a concrete set of obligations that I am taking on.  I have failed to live up to those requirements in the past, and no doubt I will do so in the future.  But I am fully prepared to publicly commit to undertaking those tasks "with God's help."  A Christian life that does not manifest itself visibly in the broader world, a "faith without works" if you will, is dead and meaningless.  I get that, and I am willing to commit or recommit to that, and to gently hold each other accountable to that.

Finally, there is a thing that is said about me and to me, instead of by me:

Michael, we recognize you as a member of the one holy catholic and apostolic Church, and we receive you into the fellowship of this Communion.  God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, bless, preserve, and keep you.  Amen.

The phrasing of this statement of reception by the bishop is important to me.  I am not being "inducted" or "initiated" into the one holy Catholic and apostolic Church, because I have been a member of that Church since I was a baby.  I am not being asked to repudiate the 39 years of my spiritual and religious life that has come before, to claim that it was somehow ersatz or deficient.  Instead, that life, that development and journey is being recognized and celebrated, even as I am moving into a new phase and being part of a new fellowship.

The vision of church that undergirds this formulation is far more expansive and broad-minded than the one that I am coming from.  And, while in many respects it has been liberating, it has also been a struggle.  I am fighting very hard, and not completely successfully, with the temptation to put down the old in order to build up my justification for embracing the new.  I am not fully at peace with my experience with the Roman Catholic Church.  But that peace is something that I can and should find, because my new home is in no way requiring me to hold a grudge.  In refusing to force me to repudiate my past, the Episcopal Church is giving me the space and providing the invitation to be able to not do so myself.  Just as I am being asked to walk gently with others inside the Episcopal Church who don't have the same precise views, I am also being ask to walk gently with those who are not part of the Episcopal Church, especially those who are Roman Catholic.

I'd like to end on a personal note.  One of the real blessings I have experienced in the last couple of years through writing this blog has been the support of people who read it and share it, and I want to thank everyone who has done so.  In a special way, I want to thank Frank and Maureen and Bill, my "internet friends," for their support and encouragement and kind words about my writing.  It means a tremendous amount to me.  Thank you.

Comments

It's you to whom thanks are owed, Michael — your keen intelligence and broad humanity. Losing you is losing someone important, for the Roman church.

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