To Covenant or Not to Covenant? A Probe into the Present and Future State of The Episcopal Church And The Anglican Communion

TO COVENANT OR NOT TO COVENANT

THAT IS THE QUESTION

A Probe into the Present and Future State of The Episcopal Church

And The Anglican Communion

The Rev. Dr. Philip Turner

First, a word of thanks to Joe Bailey Wells for this invitation! Two of your graduates, Bert Beatz and Matthew Olver, have become colleagues of mine; and a number of your faculty are old friends. You have provided me a chance to see them again and I am grateful. What is more, you have provided an opportunity for me to visit a Divinity School whose work I admire—a Divinity School whose faculty have grasped the situation of the churches here in America far more adequately than most, and who are trying to prepare you for ministry with the real circumstances you will encounter in mind. You are, I believe, very lucky indeed.

My purpose here tonight is to make a very small contribution to that preparation by talking about a subject that will be before you throughout your ministry but, sadly, receives little attention in most seminaries and divinity schools—church polity. Now don’t turn off you mental receivers and switch on your MP3 or Ipod. If you were studying political science or political philosophy you would not be so tempted. Mention of polity would lie near the center of your concerns. Indeed, polity is a major subject in moral philosophy, and if you don’t believe me just pick up a book by John Rawls, or Michael Sandel (not to mention Plato, Aristotle, John Locke or John Steward Mill.) You might even pick up the writings of Richard Hooker, Martin Luther or John Calvin, and there you would find also that the question of governance plays a very important role in what they were thinking and writing about.

It is at present not so with the churches that stem from the Reformation, and it hasn’t been for some time. My own view is that this pervasive inattention stems from an overemphasis on individual conversion and piety that lay from the outset like a bad seed in the Protestant field. Whatever the case, I hope we can begin to think in a less individualistic and more ecclesial way. Indeed, by the time I have finished, I hope at a minimum that you will see that because we have ignored it this despised subject has circled around and bit us in the backside. More importantly, I hope you will see that there is good reason to give very serious attention to this question, particularly if you are an Anglican.

Why? Because questions of governance are rooted in the purposes that define the common life of societies! And Anglicans are now in the midst of a huge argument about the purposes that define their “Communion.” As long ago as 1948 a committee of the Lambeth Conference of Bishops chaired by Bishop Carrington of Quebec posed this questions to their assembled colleagues. “Is Anglicanism based on a sufficiently coherent form of authority to form a nucleus of a world-wide fellowship of churches, or does its comprehensiveness conceal internal divisions which may cause its disruption?”¹ This question was sparked by the emergence after the Second World War of a host of independent nations, each defining themselves over against the former Imperial power, Great Britain. Independent nations implied independent churches, PECUSA being the first example.

As we all know, however, the first indication that Bishop Carrington’s question was far from trivial came not from nationalistic pressure but (interestingly enough) from a matter of church order—the ordination of women. Since then three other issues, each either directly or indirectly concerned with church order, have shown how serious the question is. I speak (a) of the blessing of “gay unions,” (b) the ordination of people involved in such unions, and (c) of lay presidency at celebrations of the Eucharist.

These communion-dividing issues led to the creation of two Instruments of Communion in addition to the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Lambeth Conference of Bishops--the Anglican Consultative Council and the Meeting of Primates. Two comments are necessary about these steps—comments that make clear their significance for Anglican polity. The first is that they were designed to provide means of consultation and joint action that avoided a centralized juridical and political authority and in so doing fostered unity while preserving the “autonomy” of the various provinces. The second is that none have as yet managed to resolve the divisive issues they were designed to address. Women’s ordination, the status of homosexual persons in the church, and lay presidency at the Eucharist still hang over us all like Edgar Allan Poe’s “pendulum.” Indeed, they make clear that we are collectively in the “pit.”

It is the inability of these instruments of governance to resolve present threats to the Communion that led the Archbishop of Canterbury to propose yet another instrument of governance—an Anglican Covenant. In making this proposal, he asked each of the constituent provinces if they indeed wished to remain part of a communion of churches or whether they would prefer something more like a federation. Choice One implies common belief, practice and ministry. Choice Two implies more voluntary relations based in mutual benefit and common history. He clearly believed that if the first choice were made, the Instruments of Communion could function in a helpful way to maintain and strengthen communion. If the second were to be taken, there is little any of the Instruments could do to resolve church dividing issues.

If one examines the terms of the latest version of the Covenant, The St. Andrews Draft (TSAD), it becomes clear that it is this choice that is being offered. In a moment I will comment on the primary elements of the proposal. First, however, I want to pose a more basic question—one that to my mind has been almost completely ignored—one that I alluded to at the beginning of this talk. Forms of governance are rooted in the purposes that define the common life of societies. If we are going to have a covenant, we had better ask what purpose it is intended to serve. What form of life is it meant to sustain and further?

Few have noticed it, but a question about a form of life lies far deeper than does the presenting issue that produced our present distress. The issue of “full inclusion of homosexual persons in the life of the church” has forced to the surface a question about Anglican identity. If you will, it has forced us to ask if there is a distinctive form of Anglican common life. In short, is it accurate to call ourselves a communion; and, if it is, what do we mean by the term? I like to put the question in yet another way. Can Anglicanism remain a catholic expression of Christian belief and practice apart from a political and juridical form of hierarchy, or by dependence upon an ecumenical council or by self-definition by reference to a Confession?

You may choose any of the above ways to describe the basic issues we face. I am happy with any of them, but all, I believe, are more fundamental than the dispute over sexual ethics that so divides us; and all lead inevitably to questions about the nature and form of order and governance. So the basic question is what form of life is it that an Anglican Covenant, Instruments of Communion, a three-fold ministry and synodical government are supposed to sustain and further?

The two inter-Anglican reports designed to address this question, The Virginia Report (TVR)² and The Windsor Report TWR)³ both agree that the form of life that ought to define the common life of Anglicans is a form of koinonia or communion. In taking this position, the authors of these key documents relied directly upon the reports of the two major ecumenical dialogues carried on by the Communion as a whole—those with the Roman Catholic Church and those with the Eastern Orthodox Churches.

Church order is intended to support and further a “communion” form of life; but what does that form of life look like? Herein lies the problem, because all parties to our present disputes want to speak of “The Anglican Communion.” It’s just that they do not understand the terms in the same way. So, for example, the former Archbishop of the Anglican Church of Canada in his Arnold Lecture was clear that communion requires mutual hospitality and mutual aid, but not common belief and practice.⁴ Pluralism in respect to the latter is necessary to preserve Anglican “diversity” and provincial autonomy. Prof. Ian Douglas of the Episcopal Divinity School has taken a similar but even more radical position.⁵ Communion stimulates diversity in respect to belief and practice and protects autonomy as a means to that end. Further, suggestions for forms of governance that might set limits to diversity are to be seen as a means of continuing both patriarchy and colonialism. The form of communion suitable for Anglicans is a form of polycentric exchange involving, once again, hospitality and mutual assistance, but not necessarily common belief and practice.

It is not surprising that this frankly moral understanding of communion has met with resistance from more evangelical voices that insist communion must rest upon fairly extensive doctrinal agreement. Submissions by the Global South Primates and GAFCON provide prime examples of this concern as does a recent paper by Stephen Noll, Vice Chancellor of Uganda Christian University. Like the Primates from the Global South, Noll wants doctrinal agreement to lie at the covenant’s base.⁶ Like me, he understands that the present conflict is about far more than sexual behavior. He also believes, as do I, that it is a question about ecclesial identity. He is, however, more worried than I am that the truth of the Gospel will be compromised by an excessive concern with unity, and though he says that many evangelicals will be able to affirm the doctrinal content of the covenant’s most recent draft (The Saint Andrews Draft (TSAD) ) he is convinced that it does not go far enough in either its doctrinal specification or its disciplinary provisions. Thus, for example, he wants the Thirty-nine Articles to be placed prominently as a standard of Anglican Doctrine; and he states clearly that doctrinal components should form a theological basis for “Communion faith and mission.”

It is impossible to miss the fact that the Covenant Drafting Committee is faced with schools of thought and political conviction that are pulling hard in opposite directions. Vice Chancellor Noll is aware, as am I that the enterprise we call the Anglican Communion may well simply fall apart. He is an astute observer of the Anglican Scene as is Professor Ian Douglas. However, I believe both fail to understand the true nature of communion in Christ and so also both fail to understand the basic strength of the Covenant’s most recent draft. Here one finds a far more adequate understanding of Communion and a far more promising set of suggestions about the form of governance that will best support that form of life.

First of all, what does TSAD say about the nature of Communion? Following the lead of both the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox dialogues, TSAD presents communion as a way of construing the entire Christian mystery. The life of God is itself a communion of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Through Christ, Israel and so also the church have been called to share in that life of communion. God wills this end so that by their witness to the nature of God’s life all people will first come to know God as God is and second through this knowledge grasp God’s purpose for them. Now here is a key point! In order that the peoples of the earth come to grasp God’s nature and God’s purpose in human history, the church is called to be an “anticipatory sign of God healing and restorative future for the world.” If you will, the common life of the church is to reflect the nature of the divine life and so also the end for which the worlds were made.

You will excuse me I hope if I comment that neither John Howard Yoder nor Stanley Hauerwas could have said it better. But the point is this. Communion according TSAD is not a secondary matter. It is the central fact and concern of the entire Christian enterprise. What we do and say properly exists to instantiate and extend the communion life of God, Christ, and the Holy Spirit until the earth is filled with the glory of God. To make communion a secondary matter--a nice addition to other concerns—a sort of desert after the main meal--is to have missed the point altogether.

Clearly, communion is first of all a from of relationship. But how is that relation to be characterized—what gives it identity? No relationship is just a relationship! Relationships are defined by differentiating features. The relation between husband and wife is not the same as the relationship between friends. So what defines the relationship between God and his people, and his people one with another? First, communion is defined worship and service of God as he has made himself known in Christ Jesus. What we know of God TSAD terms “Our Inheritance of Faith.” This inheritance is comprised of common belief “uniquely revealed in the Holy Scriptures...set forth in the catholic creeds,’ and born witness to in the “historic formularies of the Church of England.” And how is this “inheritance” to be sustained through the course of history? It is sustained by holding and administering the two sacraments of Baptism and the Supper of the Lord, upholding the historic episcopate, faithful participation in patterns of common prayer and liturgy and sharing in the apostolic mission of the people of God.⁷

Communion is relational but the nature of that relation and the means of its sustenance receive a thick description—far thicker than either the moral definition of progressives or the doctrinal one of evangelicals. The thicker character of the account of communion contained in TSAD is particularly apparent in its insistence that communion is manifest and effective because of the presence of certain identifiable graces in the common life of God’s people—faithfulness, honesty, gentleness, humility, patience, forgiveness and love itself. These graces are “lived out among the Church’s people and through its ministries, contribute to building up the body of Christ…”⁸ In fact, it is the presence of these graces that reveal “the manifold wisdom of God” to the powers in creation that are hostile to God’s purpose.

No matter what the problems with TSAD are (and they are many) one must admit that this account of communion is breath taking in its scope, and by comparison makes its competitors look rather anemic. Communion is a form of life that reflects the life of God as revealed in Holy Scripture, set forth in the catholic creeds, born witness to in the historic formularies of the church of England, sustained by a common sacramental life, a common form of ministry, common patterns of prayer, common participation in mission and nourished by graces that reflect the manifold wisdom of God.

This is the form of life that Anglican polity is to sustain, and it is this form of life that, according to the authors of TSAD, now lies under such treat. So what does TSAD have to suggest for the development of forms of governance that can meet the challenges of the present season? It is not surprising that they insist that Anglican polity, beyond the provincial and/or diocesan level, cannot involve a centralized authority. The autonomy of each province is asserted and defended. However, TSAD, because of its understanding of the central importance of koininia, insists that the autonomy of each province be circumscribed by the demands of maintaining the unity of faith in the bond of peace. Autonomy is affirmed but in a lexical ordering that places it in the service of communion. Thus, each province is asked “to have regard to the common good of the Communion in the exercise of its autonomy.”⁹ Each is also asked to respect “the constitutional autonomy of all the Churches of the Anglican Communion.” The right relation between communion and autonomy requires a desire to seek a common mind and “to act with care and caution in respect to actions…at a provincial or local level…which…are deemed to threaten the unity of the Communion.”¹⁰

The key phrase that helps one understand the inner logic of this discussion of the way in which communion and autonomy are to be balanced and sustained in the service of God’s purpose for his creation can be found in TWR--“mutual subjection out of reverence for Christ.” It is this form of waiting upon one another in the Lord that defines this particular form of polity and both distinguishes it from Rome and Constantinople on the one hand and constitutes the particular Anglican charism that TSAD asserts but never defines on the other.

It is also this particular charism that makes possible the effectiveness of the particular forms of governance and mutual counsel TSAD proposes and defends. These are Episcopal leadership that operates within synodical forms of governance along with four instruments for taking council, reaching a common mind and furthering common action. I speak of course of the Instruments of Communion—the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Lambeth Conference of Bishops, the Meeting of the Primates and the Anglican Consultative Council.

I do not believe I would be guilty of the sin of eisegesis if I were to say Anglican polity simply couldn’t work apart from general acceptance of the account of communion TSAD sets out and defends. Apart from this understanding and its centrality, the mechanisms of governance and consultation Anglicans have put in place over the years will work largely in support of local concerns and commitments, and will move the life of the provinces relentlessly toward more and more fragmentation.

Even under the most ideal circumstances, even if “mutual subjection” is agreed upon as the operating principle of the Communion, it is still the case that a covenant would be of no effect if it had no means to address the question of what happens if a province refuses to ratify its terms or, having ratified it, does not abide by its terms. This question clearly posed the most difficulty for the drafters of TSAD. Given the Anglican propensity for muddling through, it is not surprising the proposal put forward presents an involved process for reconciling differences that can last up to five years.

Having said this, however, I hasten to add that the proposal, though it does not use the word discipline, does involve real consequences that would place a recalcitrant province in what the Archbishop of Canterbury has nicely termed “a diminished status” in relation to the Communion as a whole. Time does not allow me to sketch the entire process. In its present form it is cumbersome, complex and far too lengthy to be effective. But in brief, if a matter comes up that threatens the unity and mission of the Communion, it is referred to the Archbishop of Canterbury who in turn can send it on to three assessors who in turn can send it on one or another of the Instruments of Communion. If at the end of all this, it is determined that a province has gone beyond the limits of diversity and refuses to alter its behavior, either the offending church or the Instruments of Communion are to understand that “the force and meaning of the covenant” has been relinquished. In short, the offending province by its own choice or by the decision of the Instruments now is in a diminished status in relation of the rest of the provinces of the Communion. That means it will not take part in the common councils of the Communion, though it may enjoy bilateral relations with one or more of the provinces.

To my mind the Anglican Covenant, despite its many, many spots and wrinkles, is a grand design intended to order, sustain, and strengthen a form of catholic belief and practice that, while quite different from those forms characteristic of the Roman Catholic Church or the Orthodox Churches, stands close to that we encounter in the New Testament. It has more theological substance than the alternative views now championed by the progressive forces on the one hand and evangelical ones on the other. It does, however, have serious flaws that demand attention, and in my view no response has done a better job of presenting those flaws than that of the English House of Bishops. To conclude, I simply want to file and comment briefly on the ones that seem most pressing.

The first concern is the way in which the relation between Bishop and synod is presented. TSAD speaks of Episcopal leadership and synodical governance. Yet bishops are said to have a primary responsibility for seeing that the Holy Scriptures are rightly interpreted and the inheritance of faith preserved. Do we really want to speak of our Bishops simply as leaders? Or do we in fact invest them with governing authority? The authority and responsibility of bishops in relation to that of synods requires far more careful articulation than present in TSAD.

Closely related to the matter of Episcopal authority is the effectiveness and interrelations of the Instruments of Communion. The English House of Bishops is particularly concerned about the ability of the Anglican Consultative Council to fulfill its responsibilities. They are also concerned about the way in which the primatial role of the Archbishop of Canterbury is presently understood. The interrelations of the various Instruments are also at issue. TSAD leaves these matters entirely too vague and in so doing places in jeopardy their ability to serve in fact as Instruments of Communion.

And then there is the matter of how the covenant it to be ratified and what happens if a diocese wishes to ratify it but the province does not. This issue is of particular importance within TEC because of the fact that our General Convention is unlikely to ratify a covenant that limits TEC’s autonomy. And finally, there is the question of the process for determining the limits of diversity. There is no question that the way in which TSAD proposes to sustain communion without reference to a central political and juridical authority requires time and patience. But given the grave nature of the present threats to communion, five years is simply too long a period. It is an invitation to chaos.

These questions open a Pandora’s box of thorny questions about how Anglican polity is in fact going to work—questions that if ignored will end with the dissolution of the Anglican Communion. They are serious enough, but there are theological issues that also concern the English Bishops. They worry that by putting the discussion of Communion in an Introduction, the theological basis of the proposed covenant might be pushed aside by the passage of time. They rightly want it more firmly attached to the specific terms of the covenant. They are also concerned about the status of the Thirty-nine Articles. Given the fact that they play no part of the polity of many provinces, how can they be used as a touchstone for determining fidelity to the inheritance of faith?

I have in no way done justice to the questions the Bishops have posed. I certainly have not even attempted a response to them. I will say, however, that these are questions that indicate support for the basic purpose of the covenant. They are not hostile questions, but questions that indicate a profound desire for Anglicanism to remain a catholic expression of Christian belief and practice—if you will a voice pleading for a way to sustain communion without reference to centralized authority or ecumenical council.

Clearly, I am suggesting that their concerns ought to be ours as well, and if we make them our concerns we will have to give a considered answer to the way in which we understand the nature of our common life, and the way in which that life is to be ordered. This issue poses the great challenge that lies before your generation. The way in which you respond will be the basis on which your generation will be judged. It is an issue that presents you with a labyrinthine puzzle whose twisting and turning passages mark your way of obedience to the heavenly vision.