Listenings at Lambeth 2008

The Brighton Line

2008-08-08T06:31:00.005-04:00

Bingo players around the world share a call and response lingo. If the caller says "I-22, little ducks," the response is "quack-quack." If the caller says "G-59, the Brighton Line" the stupid response is "woo-woo". I think you get my drift. I had a woo to rhyme to phew experience on the Brighton Line.

I had an alternate experience to the alternate experience of the alternate experience that was Lambeth one evening when I went to one of the seven wonders of the opera world - an evening at Glyndebourne. Glyndebourne is like Tanglewood on steroids. The strictly black-tie affair with champagne-laden picnic hampers oft served by butlers was quite a change to life at the University of Kent.

My very dear friend, Dr. Michael Sansbury, arranged this outing feeling that I, like a Fresh-Air Fund child, needed a day and evening in the country. Mike in his Trews and Prince Charlie and I in a left over evening frock from the crossing scrubbed up nicely headed off to Lewes to see Carmen. We rode in these outfits on the train headed for Brighton.

Brighton was hosting the Pride Parade that day. You should also know that we didn't have a hamper or butler. We ate our intermission meal in the restaurant.

I learned an interesting thing about Pride in the UK. When it was a protest gathering seeking human rights and full inclusion of LBGT folks, the organizers did not have to pay for the security details, police and crowd control apparatus. Now the event is charged a fee for the police, etc., because officialdom deems it a celebration -- mission accomplished. This word apparently has not trickled down to Lambeth Palace.

After one of the most enjoyable evenings in my entire life, we boarded a coach back to the train to travel back to London. One stop later my humming the arias and reveries of the exotic Carmen came to an abrupt halt as all hell broke loose.

Our coach was set upon by drunken revelers from the Pride Parade. I think they decided that the bourgeois establishment looking passengers seemed right for intimidation but little did they know that I was from Brooklyn and had seen it all. They were loud and rude. One particular stand out was a silly little confused queen wannabe who was throwing his dress over his head showing off his codpiece. Maybe he thought he was the flirtatious Carmen but this Car Man, with apologies to Michael Bourne, couldn't cut it. Not only was his mother's dress ill-fitting and way out of style, it was the wrong color for him. He was so tacky that I wanted to slap his manscara off!

I had to catch myself and remember that he, too, was one of God's children and that he was my neighbor that God calls me to love. Following God has never been easy and I was being testing. This ill-fitting dress wearing person, he,too, was one of the many who was being denied full inclusion and he, too, was one of the children of God that Lambeth was discussing. I have to admit that I was glad that he was a far piece from the University.

I wanted to say to him "Child! Do you know what people are going through - have gone through - will continue to go through - for you to have the right to act a fool in this coach? If you don't, you need to wise up and next time, get a better looking dress and some shoes that match."

The Pride revelers departed at Clapham Junction and we continued on in a strangely silent coach on the Brighton Line - woo - phew!

The Re-entry Blues in a Minor Key

2008-08-07T13:14:00.002-04:00

We're baaack! And no, I didn't post as promised on Wednesday. My mind was too cluttered and my fingers too tired. After sorting the laundry and going to the cleaners, I went to pay my garage rental before going to the office to post. When I saw my car, I thought - that's me--a flat tire, dead battery and out of gas. I also had to deal with the blankity-blank computer so here goes today - Thursday. That's re-entry blues in B flat.

The endurance boot camp for bishops seemed to just end Sunday night after the closing service. A steady, fairly heavy rain prevented a sustained round of good byes for Team Long Island with all their new friends. They returned to the hotel to meet me for dinner. For our last dinner, we stayed away from a discussion of the Indaba Reflections Report and just enjoyed and reflected on the fellowship we had built among ourselves over the three week period. We also celebrated the dining room staff that had learned all our peculiarities. A coach load of pilgrims to Canterbury arrived on Sunday and they shared the dining room with us. The ladies with their freshly permed tightly curled white hair looked for all the world like a group of cauliflowers. Margaret, the leader of her Wednesday night Bible Study group, came around to collect all of our autographs. She was thrilled to meet a happy remnant of the Lambeth Conference.

Monday gave us the opportunity to delve into the Reflections Report. There is much that we can agree with in the report and I wish I could stop there but I cannot because the closing portions present challenges especially as we begin to consider who will lead the Diocese of Long Island to the next Lambeth. We will be reporting in much greater detail on the document and its implications for The Episcopal Church and our diocese, in particular.

The first day back into the office was not a gentle segue from the alternate reality that had become my past existence - vacancies to fill, two petitions from unhappy vestries, a priest from another diocese behaving badly, an elderly alone sick retired clergy needing attention, the stark realities of the 2009 diocesan budget and the continuing challenge of finding E flat clarinets, bassoons and oboes for the children's symphony orchestra in Haiti. That's a mere taste of my daily reality. So now, go figure how to Indaba that!

Speaking of Indaba, since the Indaba groups were the unifying and organizational element of the Conference, I wanted to enter the names and email addresses in a group thingy to get an email message off from Bishop Walker while the after-glow was still shining brightly. Not possible. There was not a cogent listing of names and dioceses even to make up a grouping. "They", the mysterious they, said for security reasons a participants list was not produced. I say baloney! The list of participants was just one more thing that never got properly organized. When I returned the Bose translation equipment, I asked if they wanted to check off the names of the persons to whom they had been given and was told "we don't have a list." One can only hope that the bishops will be provided with a basic listing of names, dioceses, provinces and email addresses in the not too distant future so that the essence of the Indaba spirit can be maintained. But then again, why am I expecting a list when we have never received the initial registration packet. But then again...as New Testament people, we live in hope.

Just a few more lines on the bags - the Indaba bag especially. Dirty clothes have an uncanny way of expanding. I don't know if it's a law of physics or what but OMG! At Heathrow, when we put our bags on the scale at the check-in counter, we learned the sorry truth. What was really sorry was that Bishop Walker's big bag couldn't go through the chute it had expanded so. The family to my left was being told that they would have to unpack their bags because they were overweight. What to do?

I put the Indaba Bag with the shield of the Diocese of Long Island and Lambeth 2008 inscription on the counter facing the agent. She looked at the Indaba bag, then me, then Bishop, then the luggage, then the scale, then the Indaba bag and finally back to my face with the pleading eyes. The thought of having to unpack in plain sight as the other family was doing was unnerving me. She looked back at the Indaba bag and announced her decision. I graciously paid a modest fee and took a don't ever do it again lecture with a smile as she summoned a man to take Bishop's big bag away unweighed. It's my fantasy that in addition to being an American Airlines agent with a heart - she was an Anglican.

Saving the Best Wine for Last?

2008-08-02T03:32:00.005-04:00

And then there were no more ordinary days. It's hard to believe that we have come to the near end. Today there will be more packed in than ever before starting with Bible Study, Indaba, two self-selects and ending with an 8:00 p.m. closing plenary. Pray that it's cool in the tent or the closing report will have the effect of a bedtime story. The closing Eucharist will take over Canterbury Cathedral tomorrow. The service is scheduled for 6:00 p.m.

Now that the end is here I can honestly say that one real tangible sign of the success of this small group process, known as Indaba, is that Bishop Walker has hung in there with his groupies to the very end. Bishop Ottley says his group has been the high point and Mrs. Ottley has made us all a little jealous because she has been raving about her group every evening that we have been together.

My set of fringe group friends and I have probably become more radical. Denying admittance to the Eucharist because one doesn't have the right color or right material thingey around one’s neck especially when you ran out of the supplies because of improper ordering has gotten my back up. Bishop still doesn't have his registration materials but I guess it doesn't matter much now. Back to us at the fringe, I am honored to be one of the unintended caught in the “safety” net that was laid for our LGBT brothers and sisters.

I understand security and the need to protect all the participants - I'm from New York - I get it. But and it's a big but, it's the Eucharist for crying out loud! I shan't be going to the closing service at the Cathedral Sunday. I can wield enough influence to get a ticket but all my fringe friends can't get tickets so I shall remain with the fringe on the fringe.

I have committed to writing several more reflections here to conclude this series. I've promised one on the Indaba Group. I am also going to reflect on Right of Admission Reserved, the role of the cathedral in the city, the companion diocese process, who threw whomever the proverbial bus, some general reflections and an open letter to the 8th Bishop of Long Island.

Further thoughts on Lambeth will be offered in the September Dominion. Bishop Walker will be writing his reflections in his usual column. I am giving over Canon's Corner to Senora Ottley. I am telling all of you this now because I am returning the purloined computer just as soon as I hit the send button. We return to Long Island on Tuesday. Why Tuesday? Tuesday is a song best left unsung but the blog will return on Wednesday.

When we return we will need to face into all the dynamics of the implications of what we have done for the life of our diocese and on a more mundane level we will need to try to understand why the telephones and server were down for the better part of the last five days. As one Sub-Saharan Bishop said, I'll quit my complaining. I thought you lived in the first world. Garden Ctiy.

Thank you dear readers for holding me to this discipline. Thank you Canon Lee for all your behind the scenes technical support. Thank you Bishop Ottley for coming to my rescue when my computer failed. Thank you Bishop Walker for allowing me to serve you and the People of Long Island. Until next week...is this really how Maureen Dowd got started?

The Home Stretch

2008-08-01T05:47:00.003-04:00

We're coming into the home stretch and not a minute too soon! The bishops are all starting to look like Joe Palookas - rubbery legs, leadened arms, ears all cauliflowered and eyes puffy - as they are sent back into the ring, actually the big top, for one more round. Like a good corner woman, I have been giving my bishops, to borrow another sports metaphor, the win just one more for the gipper speech 'cause the folks at home are depending on you...well maybe my readers are depending on you...well maybe I'm depending on you so that I will have something to write...well actually it's you, you are depending on you to do the right thing. I have too many sports things going on here but I thought the 14th round of a championship fight sounded better than describing horses getting ready for the glue factory besides the animal rights group are really big here.

Yesterday the Conference devoted all of 90 minutes to the elephant in the room - human sexuality - and depending on your group leader, you may have had the conversation in triads, quads, Bible Study Group octet formation or in a few cases, by full Indaba. Where I get confused is when there are many sub-groups, how does the Indaba listener listen and how do the unlistened to voices get fed into the listening process?

On the one hand, I would like to give kudos for not giving this one topic any more time and attention than any other but, on the other hand, we can't be ostriches about this thing and pretend a great cloud isn't hanging over the entire Conference. This waiting until people are hang-dog tired has to be part of a strategy to wear them down - just wear them down and maybe they'll be too tired to talk.

As one voice from the pew, I really don't appreciate the timing. These folks are so tired and that Big Top is so hot and humid that meaningful conversation has been shifted and pushed to the margins just for the sake of some fresh air. We have spent a small fortune to get to this point in the proceedings and now we see time slipping away. Today is the penultimate work/study day. There will be a hearing on the human sexuality portion of the conference report as well as Bible Study and Indaba. Today's topic is the Windsor Process and Covenant - the penultimate work day - let's not rush into these important matters.

The conference report hearings have turned into an opportunity for the same ilk of voices to give pre-prepared addresses to the largest possible gathering under the pretext of word smithing - or getting your licks in by any means possible.

So now, today we have entered the home stretch but alas things aren't always as them seem. Unlike the diocesan tracks of The Big A and Belmont, if you're looking in the wrong direction, you might miss the finish line as they enter the home stretch at the Lambeth Derby.

Real Indaba Needed

2008-07-31T05:04:00.002-04:00

Up until her departure yesterday, Joan Grimm Fraser, Rector of Holy Trinity, Hicksville, was the "go-to" woman at the International Anglican Women's Network (IAWN) stall or booth to most of us. You would go to her for a ride to town, go to her for help with arrangements, go to her for help setting up the dinner and so I have gone to her for a really great line that I wish had been mine. At the Long Island gathering, she was reflecting on the IAWN's Dinner in an English Home event and offered to me that is what Indaba is supposed to be. That was real Indaba."

About 60 or so people - bishops, their, in this case, wives, network members, locals and assorted camp followers - gathered under a mighty twin oak for dinner and extensive conversation. For me, it was the truest modification of what Indaba is touted as. I am sure that in days going forward and perhaps for years in post conference analysis, Indaba is going to be the whipping girl for this Conference but that observation will be offered in a separate post.

The IAWN's gathering was an opportunity for a meaningful exchange with no pre-set questions and no intended outcome. We might still be talking if we hadn't become sweet meat for the mosquitoes.

The IAWN is an official network of the Anglican Communion. Kim Robey, Christ Church, Oyster Bay and Staff Officer for Women's Ministries at TEC, is on the Secretariat of the Network and Joan Fraser is the volunteer we all wish we could clone, at a minimum. IAWN, in addition to the English Country Dinner, sponsored a Tea and Conversation with Bishops and Spouses, Prayer Walks and a lunch panel on Theological Education for the Empowerment of Women. I was one of the panelists.

I realize that the opportunities are limited for fringe and private events on this highly controlled and tightly manipulated Conference schedule but---for the women bishops to put their gathering opposite the Women's Network seemed like a dissing of the people who helped get you invited to the big dance in the first place. Not a woman bishop made an appearance at the education panel or dinner. Without so much as a walk-on, the absences were noticed and felt.

Maybe some real Indaba might be needed here.

A Tribute to Ted

2008-07-30T10:35:00.003-04:00

Excuse the intrusion into the blog space with this personal message but I am compelled to pen a line or two of tribute for my friend Ted Webb. I received the news of his death and these few words are making their way to Trinidad in my place.

Mervyn Ted Webb was a Black aviation pioneer who served as one of the first Black Wing Commanders in Her Majesty's Air Force. He flew many important and top secret missions into Rhodesia and with his rank and by his demeanor he caused the apartheid era policies that were in place at the RAF base to be eliminated.

After hanging up his military uniform, he became a captain for BOAC - British Overseas Airlines Corporation - being the first Black man to don their uniform and sit in the cockpit. He was present for the birth of BWIA and trained a generation of pilots of color in the West Indies. When he joined the ranks of management at BWIA, it was his job to allay the fear - But Will It Arrive!

Two years ago, Ted and his wife Judith came to New York for the graduation of their daughter from Marymount College. They stayed in my home as I had enjoyed their hospitality many times during my visits to Trinidad. Ted took ill and they remained with me six months for post surgical chemotherapy and radiation.

From time to time when he was able, they would visit the Church of St. Luke and St. Matthew. One sure thing about cancer, it tends to cause one to seek a deeper knowledge of their faith so Ted and I enjoyed many great conversations about the Anglican Communion and, yes, that very same topic that is practically on every lip and heart here. I enjoyed our time together.

Ted passed from this life as he had lived his with stature, great dignity and looking forward to the promise of his new life with Christ.

May the souls of the faithfully departed rest in peace.

Almost heaven, Southwest Virginia

2008-07-29T06:09:00.003-04:00

During the recent Democrat Party primary campaign season, Hillary Clinton was running up the score on Barack Obama in parts of Southern Virginia, West Virginia, Kentucky and all parts of the abutting Appalachian Trail. Those white people could not relate to that black guy with the funny sounding African name. Over zealous media bloviators described the citizens of this region as salt-of-the-earth red, white and blue Americans - red neck, white trash and blue collar.

Not so fast - hold on a minute! Over the years, I've come to learn and appreciate a different story especially about the good mountain people of Southwest Virginia - the Diocese of - that is. For over thirty years, the hard working mountain people of the Diocese of Southwest Virginia have been in partnership with The Sudan. That relationship started long before church activists including me heeded the call of Bishop Heath Light to march for workers' rights against the Peabody Coal Mining Company. That was even decades before Darfur became the cause du jour and it was cool. These good folk have prayed together and supported one another mostly sight unseen for thirty years so let's not use that intolerant red, white and blue paint brush so fast.

Bishop Neff Powell has been nurturing the partnership over the years in a diocese where turning inward and focusing on at home needs could have been the path of least resistance. Last year when I was in the diocesan offices, I noticed an adopt-a-day chart where individuals, organizations and congregations were being asked to sign up for a day to cover the daily operating deficit of the diocese. Even in the face of those struggles, the good mountain people fulfilled their commitment to The Sudan.

At yesterday's hearing on the third document of the Windsor Continuation Group, the Archbishop of The Sudan spoke again offering a not too helpful clarification on his earlier statement condemning the American Church. After back pedaling around, the condemnation stood.

I know how Archbishop Deng-Bul's words will play in Peoria but I can't imagine how they will be received in Roanoke. Is his condemnation of the American Church reverberating in the hills and hollers of Southwest Virginia? How did his friends receive those words? Words are powerful even in this little slice of heaven known as Southwest Virginia.

Thank You Most Holy Trinity

2008-07-29T05:46:00.004-04:00

Eons ago during the opening festivities, Trinity Church, New York City, was being thanked and the Archbishop of Canterbury called it Most Holy Trinity. I imagine he wanted to say Most Wealthy Trinity but then while true, that would have been tacky.

Trinity hosted what I would call a reunion dinner but they were reluctant to do that so I won't. Last summer, Trinity hosted a gathering in Escorial Spain, focused on issues of partnerships. This dinner was a renewal gathering of those who had participated in the Walking to Emmaus consultation in Spain.

So now let me get the fluff out of the way first. Each table had a lovely floral centerpiece and beige, gold and orange tone napkins folded in the shape of a heart. We all had place cards. Each guest received an autographed and dedicated copy of Jim Lemler's new book and the women received a pendant created by the Rector's wife, Tay Cooper. Each piece of the hand-made kiln-fired clay was silk-screened with the Emmaus foot-print and each woman's name was fired in as well. A greeting card from Dr. and Mrs. Cooper was also at each place setting. One more bit of fluff - a bottle of Tabasco graced each table. That seemed to be a very inside joke.

Dr. James Callaway, Deputy for Anglican Partnerships, opened the limited program and then turned it over to Bishop Rob O'Neill (Colorado) who offered one of the most profound thoughts of the week in describing the Walking to Emmaus process. "Walker, there is no road. The road is made by walking it." He honestly said the thought was not his and that he had heard it in his Bible Study Group. It really fit the occasion.

Bishops Singulane (Lebombo, Mozambique) and Curry (Suffragan, Connecticut) shared stories of their partnership. Bishop Curry was wearing a cross made from a destroyed AK-47. Removing and destroying those weapons was an important ministry of Bishop Singulane. Bishop Curry went on to relate that wearing the cross reminded him of the need to work on gun violence in the urban areas of Connecticut.

Bishop Singulane took us back to Mutual Responsibility and Interdependence and the 1963 Toronto Conference and then worked us forward. It was good to be reminded that everything old is new again.

Canon Musoke-Lubega, the Trinity Program Officer for Africa, invited us into table discussions of how we had benefited from the Emmaus Process. My table mates were The Primate of the Indian Ocean, the Bishops of Cape Coast, Ghana, Western Massachusetts and Long Island, the spouses of the Bishop of Atlanta and Suffragan New York and The Anglican Observer to the United Nations. We had good conversations at the table. It was good renewing old acquaintances. The Primate of the Indian Ocean had attended Afro-Anglicans II and Bishop Sarfo of Cape Coast had attended the pre-Lambeth Consultation in Pretoria that I had been of part of this past spring.

To a person, all were able to thank and commend Mrs. Helen Wangusa, the Anglican Observer, on her presentations to the Conference especially the one on London Day.

In addition to providing me with a change of dinner venue, the Emmaus Meal and Renewal presented an alternative reality to what was going on outside beyond that venue. Ten percent of the Lambeth Conference participants were in that room, ten percent of the Lambeth Conference participants were focused on partnership, ten percent of the Lambeth Conference participants were holding Communion as dear and ten percent of the Lambeth Conference participants were making the road by walking it.

Thank you Most Holy Trinity for sharing your largess to help in building up the Kingdom.

Sunday's Sundae

2008-07-28T12:47:00.002-04:00

Today is day 20 of this sojourn! I am feeling and looking a bit like the lettuce on sale at the bodega down the street from my apartment - brown around the edges and wilted. Only 7 more days for me over here but who's counting.

Yesterday was Canterbury Day and Team Long Island all went their separate ways. That was a good thing. I headed off to London. In case you thought that there is only one queen in London who can give a garden party, get a grip and think again. Friends, old and brand new, soothed my bruised feelings with a great garden party and barbecue. Our wide ranging conversation topics included global warming, care for the environment, social justice, mission strategy, inclusion and, of course, the future of the Anglican Communion. By the end of the evening and the last bottle of wine, we were starting to make pretty good sense. Actually, we were making more sense than the folk that I had left behind in Canterbury. It was a worthy party and a grand time was had by all. For me it was a Sunday Sundae.

The cherry on my Sunday's Sundae happened as it were when I arrived back in Canterbury. There was quite a queue for a taxi. A bishop in mufti (I spotted the chain of his pectoral cross going diagonally across his chest into his shirt pocket) went to the head of the queue in front of about twenty of us.

Like a mighty Greek chorus we all shouted, "Get in the queue." Then came a great baritone voice that boomed out "Who do you think you are, a bishop or something!" He slunk to this rightful place - the end of the procession.

Let's Face the Music and Dance

2008-07-27T04:08:00.004-04:00

Yesterday was class photo day giving the official photographer another opportunity to learn to properly reset the f-stop to adjust for the changing composition of the Communion. If the 200 or so African and handful of Australian bishops had come this year, some more adjusting would have been required and I don't know where they would have fit.

There was some political statement trying to be made by the judicious (or in- as it may actually be) placement of certain bishops. It sounded like an ecclesial prize is right. Bishop female, gafcon participant, middle of the roader, liberal come on down and let us make sure people know that you are here.

While all this delicate placement was taking place, the bishops broke into song. The old evergreen that they chose was Just as I Am, which seemed to say how they feel about change. I found myself singing "When the red red Robin goes bob-bob-bobbin along" as they were in rochet and chimere.

What could have been newsworthy was if the formation had morphed into an Electric Slide line (can't you just see those shimmying chimeres).

In my diocese, the Electric Slide has become, in the words of T'yve, Tradition. In my words, something done twice at convention. The Electric Slide would be another type of stretch especially for those in Indaba groups under revolt.

The Electric Slide is a dance that everybody can do, you don't need a partner (No not that kind of partner, a dancing partner). Those who know the steps have to put up with those who don't and those who don't know the steps sometimes are moving right when the step is to the left and vice-versa or fro when it's to but then after a while and some initial struggles with the steps and the rhythm, the line starts working and moves as a unit. From my experience and far from scientific clinical observations, everyone has a good time and the most people are on the dance floor because it's a way for maximum participation. So that was my fantasy - dancing bishops. If only some music had come blasting out of the Big Top the bishops could have danced instead of waltzing back into their covert caucuses.

Maybe they would have preferred the Cha-Cha-Slide?

The Last Word on the Bag of Bags

2008-07-25T12:38:00.007-04:00

When did Primates become an Instrument of Unity? I guess we are reaping some of the seeds sown by Presiding Bishop Allin when he was looking for a way to duck the issue of the ordination of women. We are just fattening frogs for snakes! While the Primates are making pronouncements, Indaba mates are, in the words of Rodney King, just trying to get along.

The Parable of the Bag of Bags

After traveling west from Garden City to Brooklyn and west across the North Atlantic, north to Canterbury from Southampton and onward north to the University of Kent, the bag of bags and box of bags were delivered and distributed on the same day that the Archbishop of The Sudan was making his pronouncements. It was not really clear if the newly minted Primate was speaking for his entire Province. The Indaba gifts arrived to the appointed place and were distributed by a wise and generous giver. The group was blown away by the beauty and significance of the bag. And there was joy in the Indaba group. All the bishops were most appreciative. One bishop in particular was really liking his Indaba bag but on further notice, he seemed to be casting a longing eye on the now empty bag that had contained the bags. The admiring bishop was from The Sudan.

The giver of the bags being a wise and senior bishop picked up on the signal but as a wise and senior bishop he said that I must speak to a higher authority about the bag; I must speak to my Canon as this former bag of bags from the Buyers Warehouse in Hempstead purchased for this occasion may be a family heirloom. The wise and senior bishop held out some hope saying, "I'll see what I can do," because the wise and senior bishop was enjoying his newly minted friendship with the bishop from The Sudan.

Now when the wise and senior bishop saw the oft-time mercurial canon, the canon was in a snit over the recently issued statement of the Primate of The Sudan. Being a wise and senior bishop, that wise and senior bishop left the canon alone.

The next day the wise and senior bishop inquired about the future of the former bag of bags and seeing that the canon was in a joyful mood added that a bishop from The Sudan was interested in having the bag. The canon heaved a heavy sigh. The loyal and faithful canon of the wise and senior bishop remembered the teachings of the wise and senior bishop over the years - We are Long Island, we are not petty, we come in fellowship, we are doing the Lord's work in middle management and it is more blessed to give that big former bag of bags away than to lug it home.

So the bishop from The Sudan received the bag formerly of bags, the wise and senior bishop saved face and the mercurial canon learned a great lesson about grace - let the Primates be Primates - we have work to do building the kingdom one bag at a time.

This parable was written by a blithe spirit who has occupied Canon Porter's body as it is her birthday.

London Day - My Way

2008-07-25T04:45:00.006-04:00

After a March on Poverty described in the national press here as a bobbing river of purple, the bishops, spouses, guests, et al, were, what else, treated to a drinks reception and sumptuous lunch under a specially erected marquee. Think of the statement they could have made if they had a lunch similar to those eaten in the two-thirds world - that is, if those folk were having any lunch at all. That could have been a major statement on poverty and world hunger.

While at lunch, they were addressed by "the son of a preacher man" the Prime Minister, Gordon Brown. While the PM was addressing the assembled, the Labour Party was getting its clocked cleaned in elections in Scotland and his very well received remarks were knocked out of the news altogether. Barack Obama's rally in Berlin didn't help either. From all accounts, if the Prime Minister loses his day job he'd fit right into the pulpit. I watched his address to The Knesset last week and I, too, agree he could follow in his father's footsteps.

After those festivities it was off to see The Queen. Following some mysterious selection process, a handful of bishops got tapped on the shoulder to come up higher. Our very own Bishop 826 was chosen to chat up the Duke of Edinburgh, HRH Prince Philip. Part met the Queen and the other part the Duke. Before The Royals entered the receiving chamber, the bishops were instructed on the body language protocol of the proper form of greeting.

Perhaps it's because the Church of England doesn't have women bishops that the Protocol Officer told the women bishops to curtsy - wrong! A bishop is a bishop is a bishop. Going along to get along were Rhode Island and El Camino Real. How I wish their office rather than their sex had defined the movement of the moment. Anyway, a grand time was had by all.

No Pity Parties Allowed Here

2008-07-24T08:12:00.003-04:00

My first experience of camp life was a YWCA camp at the Lake of the Ozarks, that's Missouri. My Grandfather was the chairman of the board of the Negro YMCA and my Grandmother was his equal at the YWCA so all was arranged. I was too young and quite far away from friends and my Mother and Father.

On Parents Day, of course, mine couldn't visit from East Chicago and I had my first known pity-party. I wrote the all time A-number one tear jerking letter home from camp. Upon getting my letter, my Mother took the Santa Fe Rail road from Chicago to Kansas City and when the bus pulled up at the end of my camp session, my Mother was waiting for me at the "Y".

I burst into tears when I saw her and rolled those tears into a king-sized tantrum--which really wasn't my style. For my last tantrum on record, I had been four and I performed in front of Marshall Fields on State Street during the Santa Claus parade. I was now seven.

Perplexed by my actions, my Mom said "I thought you would be glad to see me based on the letter you wrote home so why are you crying?" "I'm crying because I want to go back - I don't want to come home!!!"

I'm not really sure why my tantrum was rewarded but after much negotiating with everybody under the sun, I turned around and went back - dirty clothes, matted hair and all under the threat that if I ever wrote such a letter again, I would be on punishment until I was old enough that I could collect Social Security.

I woke up this morning at about 3:15 a.m. because I felt a pity-party coming on. Well more to the point, I felt water boarded without the water. I remembered my Mother's threat of punishment. I'm going off line today before I write a letter from camp and hit the send button.

Come back tomorrow. I will be writing about the parable of the bag of bags among other things after I finish my panel discussion at the fringe. I want to be a tassel - I'm not sure about being a fringe.

Bul in the China Closet

2008-07-23T12:35:00.008-04:00

We see on Sky TV that Texas is preparing for Hurricane Dolly. There are no hurricanes here but we have been hit by a Bul in the china closet! Upsetting the neatly arranged tea cups has been Archbishop Daniel Deng Bul, the Primate of The Sudan. After holding a press briefing to discuss the political situation in the Sudan, the conversation rather than concluding with a discussion of the problems roiling in Darfur, he segued to the elephant in the living room and the neatly arranged fragile English bone-china tea cups were shattered. The Archbishop called for the resignation of the Bishop of New Hampshire and an apology from all those who participated in his consecration.

At least he was more gracious than Bishop Iker who said all those who had participated in the consecration should leave immediately.

Before concluding, Archbishop Bul added that he had not spoken to Bishop Robinson and felt no need to do so and that he was not participating in the Lambeth Listening Process.

What makes this cheese so binding is that while he was holding his briefing an invitation to the American bishops was flying over the electronic transom. Bishop Jefferts Schori was inviting all TEC bishops to a meet and greet the Bishops of The Sudan, Congo and Liberia.

This meet and greet was designed for bishops to get first hand information on some of the most war ravaged nations in Africa but it has now presented the Ordinary of Long Island with a dilemma. Between now and Saturday night, he must figure out how much talking he really wants to do with someone who has announced that he isn't listening. What's really clear for the Ordinary, and not presenting a dilemma, is that he isn't confessing, apologizing or leaving.

Stay tuned!

A Comment on the Comments

2008-07-22T14:09:00.003-04:00

My sincere thanks to all of you for the public as well as private notes. Your notes kept me going while I was in cyber-hell.

For those of you who are not regular readers of Canon's Corner I should probably be less wry. I will try but I cannot promise.

To Bob G+, His Grace, the Archbishop of York and I have been friends for years thus the moniker he has placed on me over the years is "Lady Long Island". Actually after he and Mrs. Sentamu passed and we had so much fun greeting each other, the protesters viewed me in a bit of a more substantial light.

To David Gable, Take heart Long Islanders was related to the Ka-Ching line. Ka-Ching is the sound of the cash register counting up the coins for this experience. Angelinos are paying for 9 persons while only 4 Long Islanders are on the dole. Ka-Ching!

To Canon Juan, 10 years goes by awfully fast and there will be another Lambeth Conference if all these happy bishops that I am seeing have anything to say in the matter. You are right where you're supposed to be - caring for Adria.

Change the Tape

2008-07-22T13:46:00.002-04:00

Our hotel has taped music in the public rooms which I am in quite a bit because that is where the Wi-Fi hot spots are located. One tape has looped so many times that I am loopy. Old standards played on a mournful, pitiful clarinet loop over and over again and that clarinet just goes on and on then on some more.

Last Friday evening, two other guests were moved to act. The elder of the two women, who looks for all the world like every-body's first grade teacher, sought the manager. When he arrived she told him straight away, "Relegate that tape to the bin!" Off he went and off it went. Thanks be to God.

When I was member of the Presiding Bishop Ed Browning's staff, one year we did a series of in-depth diocesan visits and one of the many visits was to the Diocese of Quincy.

That was the first time I heard the mantra from a mournful clarinet like voice saying you have to feel my pain. That was twelve years ago. At several subsequent General Conventions and at the last one in Columbus, I heard the mantra again. And again. That tape has been looping for twelve years that I know of and even as recently as yesterday during the meetings by Province, TEC bishops were ask to feel his pain yet again. I don't think he has the market on pain. At this Lambeth Conference, I know he doesn't have the market on pain.

It's time to change the tape. Where is that little English woman when I need her.

Faces in the Crowd

2008-07-21T07:02:00.007-04:00

One of the great things about being here at Lambeth, in addition to all the other things we project upon it, it's a great gathering of the clan. Seeing and greeting old friends and making new ones is one of the main reasons for making this pilgrimage. Yesterday, I spotted several of my personal all time favorites:

Dr. Jenny Te Paa, the great Maori lay theologian, shared a wonderful story of her childhood growing up with a Maori Mother and Brit Father. Her Brit Father loved all the pomp and would have stood for all thirty minutes of the eight processions while her Maori Mother was more laid back and would have sat through them. She wasn't quite sure what to do so we alternated.

The Reverend Dr. Harold Lewis, son of Long Island and Rector of Calvary Church, Shady Grove, PA, is here collecting information for a new book he is writing from his perspective on the Lambeth Conference. This is Harold's third Lambeth - all the sizzle but not the steak.

Canon Benjamin Musoke-Lubega, the indefatigable Africa Grants Officer for Trinity Church, who has probably done more to preserve unity within the Communion than anyone will ever acknowledge.

The Reverend Rose Hudson-Wilkins recently name chaplain to the Royal Household, who worked with us as a member of the Planning Committee for Afro-Anglicans III. Rose is Chaplain to the Spouses Conference.

The Reverend Canon Kenneth Kearon, Secretary-General of the ACC, wearing a GTS doctoral hood for the opening service. I whispered to him that it was my fantasy that General was his favorite seminary and that's why he was wearing our hood not that this was the first hood he could put his hands on when he was packing. I shan't reveal his answer.

The Reverend Canon John Petersen, Canon for International Concerns of the Washington National Cathedral and former Secretary-General of the ACC, was looking like the happiest man in all of Kent since he had no responsibilities for the Conference other than showing up.

Team Diocese of Los Angeles - by far the largest diocesan team - 4 bishops, 3 spouses, 2 staff but no partridge in a pear tree. Take heart - good people of Long Island. Ka-ching, Ka-ching!

The Right Reverend Paul Lambert, Suffragan of Dallas, who gives new meaning to being a baby bishop. Sunday being his seventh day as a bishop. He flew off to Lambeth on the morning after his consecration.

Senora Lillian Ottley, wife of Bishop James Ottley, who for the second consecutive Lambeth celebrated her July 20th birthday in the midst of the Conference.

Happy Birthday to Lillian, a most gracious member of our diocesan team.

All are Welcome in this Place

2008-07-21T06:06:00.002-04:00

They can "do" church at the Canterbury Cathedral. The processions, the music, the precision and vestments - just glorious. The eight vergers got the entire procession of over 700 persons into place by precisely eleven o'clock. The mass setting was the "Missa Luba" and those boys and men of the Cathedral Choir could really sing that traditional Congolese music. The Gospel procession was led by brothers and sisters from Melanesia carrying the Gospel book in a scale model of a dug out canoe. The women were carrying the canoe while the men danced about. Isn't that the way it always is - the women doing the heavy lifting? I thought the writers of the service booklet were trying to be super cool calling them brothers and sisters until I realized they were from religious orders. The monks and nuns were dressed in traditional grass skirts and body paint but they appeared for Communion in their habits.

The Bishop of Colombo (Sri Lanka) preached a challenging sermon calling us all into a deeper appreciation of the full spectrum of the diversity that is the Anglican Communion. I must admit that somewhere in the sermon the administration side of me kicked in and I tried to calculate the cost of maintaining that great Cathedral and envying the way in which an elevator had been installed and their decent and abundant toilet facilities. My reverie was disturbed when I heard a familiar voice and looked up on my video screen to see Bishop E. Don Taylor (Assistant of New York) leading the Intercessions.

The post communion anthem was "All are Welcome in this Place." "...Here the outcast and the stranger, bear the image of God's face; let us bring an end to fear and danger, All are welcome, all are welcome, all are welcome in this place." It was a thoughtful and haunting anthem. How I wish we could sing it so.

As I was leaving the service I ran into the Bishop of New Westminster (Canada) Michael Ingham. We mused together if all are so welcomed in this place why was our brother from New Hampshire missing. Later on I thought how could all this be? We have a TEC bishop who is seeking to move his entire diocese to the nether world and he was parading around after the great unifying service giving press interviews but then again - ALL are welcome in this place.

The Gauntlet

2008-07-21T05:38:00.003-04:00

From the transportation drop off point to the main entrance of the Cathedral precinct, to get to church yesterday, we had to pass through a row of demonstrators. By Brooklyn standards, it was a pitiful demonstration unless the numbers had been artificially limited by police permit or some other prearrangement.

The best of the rag tag lot had hand puppets resembling dragons and devils and the puppeteers were speaking in the so called voices of the characters they were holding. Others had signs that were difficult to read so the points were missed by most. Abomination seemed to be the buzz word with people chanting something as we passed. I'm not being obtuse. As demonstrations go, this one missed the mark. What they really needed was that big inflatable rat that travels around to construction sites in New York City. If you are trying to make the point that we are rats deserting the ship of Anglicanism as they believe it should be and abominations for doing so, then you should bloody well make the point!

I was on the gauntlet line for about 15 minutes. I had to wait for the arrival of my ticket into the Cathedral. The Archbishop of York and Mrs. Sentamu passed as I was standing there. The Archbishop chided me "My Lady of Long Island, have you gone to the far side?" I quickly responded "Oh no, my Lord, Your Grace. Not at all."

Mercifully my ticket bearer soon arrived and I finished strolling through that pitiful gauntlet.

Outside The Big Top

2008-07-18T08:01:00.002-04:00

One of the great stories of my childhood that my parents loved to tell and embellish each time they told it was about my first trip to the circus. I was about three. On the night before we were to go, they went to a party and the following morning it seemed they had hang overs. But a promise is a promise and we went - they unhappily so - with the thought being let's just get it over with. They took me to all the outside events. I saw the clowns and barkers, got a cotton candy, Daddy won me a Cupie doll and then we went home. They asked did I like the circus and I said I loved it. As far as I knew, I had been to the circus. They kept that ruse going for many years.

When I was about twelve, a friend's parents took us to the circus and we went inside, sat down and saw performances. I went to the real circus in the real big top. I was furious with my parents for deceiving me. I discovered I had only been to the side show. After pouting for as long as my Father would put up with it, my Mother asked didn't you have fun at our circus? In hindsight, I have to admit I did.

The Lambeth Conference for me is a little bit like that story. Several diocesan communicators, me among them, have been denied media credentials. We all learned of our turn down either after or upon arrival here or enroute. Upon getting the email, I assumed an adult version of a twelve year old pout.

Our diocese, mainly because of Bishop Walker, has been so supportive of the Conference, the Compass Rose Society and the ministry of the Archbishop of Canterbury. We have even provided the resources for the program chair, Archbishop Pogo of Melanesia, to purchase the computer upon which this conference was planned. While I felt the decision was an insult to the Diocese of Long Island and still do, I am out of my pout. Like my Father, Bishop doesn't tolerate pout too well.

I have been outside of The Big Top before and made the best of it. Had fun and didn't know I wasn't having the best possible time. I am looking forward to joining with the other diocesan communicators who will join me as we join Bishop Robinson to make the most of the side show and carry the flag outside The Big Top.

Let Us All Sing Together

2008-07-18T07:38:00.004-04:00

The one thing on which all have agreed, thus far, is the beauty of the singing and the inspired leadership of the music director. I can't wait until Sunday when I can hear the great assembled male chorus with Bishop Waynick of Indianapolis and abour 24 other female voices able to sing the descant. With the dearth of male voices in some of our congregations, 625 male voices that can carry a tune should make for some beautiful music.

So far the music director has chosen hymns and anthems from all the Provinces within the Communion and even those participants without songbooks are having a great time humming along.

I see a stealth organizing principle at work here. For four consecutive days the only group speak is in the form of song. After the bishops have enjoyed singing in harmony, just think how they will speak to one another.

Happy 90th birthday today to Nelson Mandela who taught us all the songs of reconciliation.

The Big Top

2008-07-17T17:23:00.004-04:00

The conference is almost underway. Last evening was the soft welcome to be followed by the opening welcome within the confines of Canterbury Cathedral during the retreat today followed by the official opening welcome on Sunday.

All the bishops, spouses, official guests and staff gathered after an ardous arrival and registration process.

In addition to some buses getting lost between Heathrow and Canterbury, there were insufficient registration packets when some arrived, insufficient bags to hold the various documents and pieces of equipment being parceled out and the list with the Indaba and Bible study groups and their locations wasn't revealed until last evening. Making bad matters worse, there were not enough maps for people to find the venues. All participants were given translation equioment that they stuffed in their pockets along with the thick program booklet.

If I know bishops like I think I know bishops, a lot of equipment is going to be left sitting around because they have far too much to keep up with. According to many, things can only go up from here.

The main gathering venue has been named The Big Top. Really! Who came up with that name for such a serious gathering place?

The Big Top connotes one thing to me -- Ringling Brothers.

Bloggers Unite

2008-07-17T14:07:00.002-04:00

One of the lead stories on the BBC today is the triumphant arrival of Pope Benedict XVI into Sydney Harbor. Perhaps this is part of his rescue Dr. Williams strategy because he pushed the soft opening of the Lambeth Conference to a bare mention on television and a side bar box way inside the papers.

For ocean goers, Sydney Harbor is the sine qua non. The scenes were breathtaking of the flotilla surrounding his craft. I wish we knew such stage management.

By the way, the Pope is texting greetings while attending the World Youth Event in Sydney under the moniker BXVI.

A Bee in my Bonnet

2008-07-17T13:49:00.001-04:00

Let me get this off my chest before it festers some more. Regular readers of my columns in The Dominion may recall my diatribe about our computer technician who appears, does and then asks. Remember when he sent all my photographs of the Norwegian fjords into cyber heaven? He has configured my computer in such a way that it is unusable. I have visited two computer stores today seeking assistance to no avail. Even Bishop Itty can’t get me sorted out. This is a disaster.

I fascinate myself watching Bishop Walker bear the burdens of my travail. He has moved from disinterested, to disbelieving, to incredulous, to sympathetic to pastoral as he has watched my personal human interest tragedy unravel. To put salt in my open wound, this one man band of a tech is somewhere in Katmandu or environs on vacation unable to assist.

We can only pray that my thumbs don't give out as I enter each of these blogs one thumb at a time.

Rome to the Rescue?

2008-07-16T10:22:00.003-04:00

Three Cardinals are coming to the Conference to save Dr. Williams' bacon. The Cardinal for Christian Unity, the Cardinal who serves as the head of the Catholic Church in England and Wales and the most interesting to me - the head of the Vatican's Congregation for the Evangelization of the Peoples aka the person who appoints all the bishops in Africa and Asia.

Rome has sent an emissary who appoints in the same geographical regions that have fostered most of the dissent to smooth the roiled waters created because an American bishop was elected democratically by the people of his diocese. That difference in our polities seems to be conveniently overlooked when the topic of "How could you all have done this to the beloved Communion" comes up.

While it is true that Pope Benedict XVI and Dr. Williams have a great friendship and mutual respect, the word on the street is that Rome wants to cool the foment on the Thames lest it spread to the Tiber.

Viva Papa

A Cheeky Carrot

2008-07-15T22:01:00.001-04:00

The Times, no not the newspaper of record, but The Times of London has submitted an online questionnaire to all bishops with questions ranging from A to Z and all in between. A - asks if the Archbishop of Canterbury is a flawed leader. Z - questions if the Communion has done enough in/about Zimbabwe. A sampling of the in between includes Roman-Anglican dialogue, global warming, do we need a Communion and are people born gay.

The carrot offered to the 650 recipients for answering such in-depth and in some instances revealing questions -- entry into a drawing for one, yes a total of one, bottle of champagne.

How absolutely cheeky! Really how cheap. Actually how insulting. The promise of a 1 in 650 chance for a bottle of Cristal might get me to share Bishop Walker's inner most thoughts on line. But on second thought, even if the cheeky carrot is Cristal, we're keeping those deep thoughts to ourselves. No deal.

In-Spired

2008-07-15T21:52:00.005-04:00

Your modern day pilgrims have arrived in Canterbury. The trip was not without its Chaucer moments. While the journey from the Tabard Inn in Southwark had moments of hilarity, I must say the end of our journey had its fair share as well.

Our car was almost a goner. Who knew there would be another passenger with the surname Porter going to Canterbury. The imposter Porters took our vehicle but after they loaded the boot for the journey they realized it was the wrong car hire company.

When the "true" Porter party arrived, the fun began. I had communicated with the dispatcher about the bag of bags, box of bags, vestment bag, our regular bags plus the assorted electronic paraphernalia and conference materials including a five pound report on the Millennium Development Goals that is so environmentally unfriendly it makes my carbon foot print a size 4. She said not to worry.

Packing the car gave new meaning to the old clown car joke. The box of bags was in my lap for the 2.5 hour drive and Bishop had my electronics bag on his feet (that's the closest he's been to a computer in a long time).

Finally, we reached the city outskirts and visible in the distance were the Cathedral spires. They were breathtaking.

This great Cathedral built by St. Augustine in the 6th century has withstood the ravages of time including the bombs of the German Luftwaffe during World War II. I pray it survives this gathering.

It is my current fantasy that Mrs. Alexander Stewart had been a pilgrim to Canterbury and was inspired by the spires.

The Only Way to Travel

2008-07-11T12:46:00.003-04:00

We are settling into sea life. If one must go trans-Atlantic, this is the only way to go. Each evening we advance our clocks one hour to compensate for the 5 hour time difference between New York and the UK. While it is only one hour, it is playing havoc with my inner Puritan self. When I awoke at 10:00 a.m. which was 7:00 in New York I became overtaken by guilt. It quickly subsided. Adjusting to the time change and not seeing light and darkness is one of the minor difficulties with an inside cabin. One can or at least I can lose all sense of time and day light. It is all so relaxing after a stressful run up to our departure.

People seem to be quite fascinated with Bishop Walker. I thought the British passengers would want to discuss the Lambeth Conference or the recently held Synod of the Church of England that approved on the first round of voting the consecration of women as bishops but instead everyone wants to discuss Barack Obama. Who knew that he would become a spokesperson for the Obama campaign - little does Obama know and little did Walker prepare for the task. No one has asked me about Obama or Lambeth either for that matter and I'm not a bit upset - can you tell?

Indaba Gifts

2008-07-10T09:48:00.006-04:00

The Conference planners have decreed that the bishops should just meet and sit and talk - no resolutions, no statements, no position papers on the great issues facing the world - just sit and talk. They will be talking in groups of 40.

In group work speak they will be put into max-mix groups of senior bishops, junior bishops, multi-continent bishops, liberal and conservative and all in between - you get the picture. The theory goes if they talk long enough they will either all get along or run out of steam - which ever comes first. We'll see. If each bishop uses 5 minutes for an introduction and says something minimal about their diocese, it will take 200 minutes or 3 plus hours just to say hello. If you follow this theory, it will be about Christmas before they will be able to discuss the schismatic issues if ever.

I don't consider myself an expert in group or organizational dynamics - I was just the President of NTL Institute of Applied Behavioral Scienes - but 40 is too large a group for adequate and in depth sharing. Little beyond the surface will be mined in such a large group. But no one asked me.

40 presents another challenge. Each bishop was asked to bring a gift to share with the members of their Indaba group - the G-40. Funny how we can ascribe things African when it suits our purpose. The theme for the 2009 General Convention of The Episcopal Church is on Ubuntu - a Xhosa concept - Indaba is Zulu.

Back to the gifts. What to take? Aided and abetted by Violet deLagarde, we selected Lands' End canvas bags with the shield of the Diocese of Long Island . I think these are really hot looking bags but why didn't I consider how much 40 bags weighed.

I give thanks that they are only travellng one way and wonder about the 39 gifts that Bishop Walker will receive in return. We can only hope they will be light or that he will just receive gifts of the spirit.

Take Nothing for the Journey

2008-07-09T14:40:00.005-04:00

With apologies to the Gospel writers. In teen speak OMG! (That's Oh my God for the rest of us). We are loaded down. Take nothing for the journey - no staff, sandals, coins in your belt and don't have two tunics. I have many more than two tunics and bags of bags but more about the Indaba gifts tomorrow. We have loads of paper and reports that should have been printed on two sides of the paper to save trees but alas they were not. I can't imagine what the founding fathers had in mind when they called together the first Lambeth Conference but I don't think they were anticipating the load that we are carrying. My cabin steward looked at my bags with some amazement and I sheepishly tried to explain they were gifts but he didn't get it.

So far we have seen Bishops Leo Frade of Southeast Florida and David Alvarez of Puerto Rico. I hope to interview them in the coming days to learn their hopes and fears for the Conference. This afternoon I followed behind a man wearing a purple shirt but after checking out his hands I realized that he wasn't a fellow pilgrim to Canterbury. I have started re-reading the Canterbury Tales to see if I can describe my fellow sojourners aptly but not quite so colorfully as Chaucer did. My goodness some of those tales are ripe. We completed UK immigration processing today so all our formalities are out of the way and nothing but smooth sailing is in the forecast.

The Dominion newspaper

2008-07-04T13:23:00.017-04:00

Bishop Orris G. Walker, Jr., our diocesan bishop, and I will be sharing Lambeth Conference news in our columns in the September edition of the diocesan newspaper, The Dominion.

Pray with us and for us

2008-07-04T09:52:00.005-04:00