Mark Sisk and the Crisis of the Communion

Mark Sisk and the Crisis of the Communion

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Thursday 10 February 2011

Before meeting the Episcopal bishop of New York I nose around the massive cathedral. On a wall, between two side chapels, is a brass plaque, inscribed in copper-plate with some august words of sacred scripture: When in the course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands, blah blah blah, We declare these truths to be self-evident, and so on. Maybe the Declaration of Independence should be more prominently displayed, for this Church has recently got in touch with its revolutionary side. In a sense the whole crisis in the Anglican Communion originates in its awkward propensity for democracy (bishops are elected).   Mark Sisk doesn’t look like a revolutionary. He looks like an older thinner Bill Bryson: round specs, light beard and genial smile. He has no lordly airs: my pompometer stirs not. His hobby, appropriately for a follower of Jesus, is carpentry: he has built himself a house in the Catskills. He is seen as an old-fashioned liberal, a pragmatist.   He was raised in the Episcopal Church, ‘from the ground up’, and ordained in 1967, the time of Vietnam and civil rights. Did the Church get too closely involved in these trendy political causes, and alienate a lot of its members? For wasn’t it at this time that attendance started falling? ‘Attendance began to fall in many denominations at that time, and not all were equally involved in those issues. What I would say is that the Church at that time was less articulate about its motives than it might have been. I think the concern for civil rights and for peace came out of Christian understandings, but it was too often assumed people knew about that. The Church was at fault for failing to articulate the Christian motivations for those concerns.’   How conscious was he, growing up, of the English origin of the Church? ‘The fact that we were connected to England was very remote, something I gave little thought to. At seminary I was conscious of the historic roots.’ These roots are ambiguous: after the Revolution, England was reluctant to see a separate Church emerge. ‘The Church of England did not make us feel embraced in those early days. On the other hand there was a desire, from our side, for the connection – the first Lambeth Conference was called because American bishops asked for it.’   More recently, a division opened up when the Americans decided to ordain women in 1977 – did the Church see itself as the liberal pioneer? ‘You know, when the decision to ordain women was made, I don’t think it was in anyone’s mind – I mean the person in the pew – to worry what the Church of England was thinking about it.’ Or what the rest of the Communion was thinking? ‘Well, again, the notion of the Communion is something that in many respects has been invented by the Episcopal Church - our creation as a separate Church created the Communion, if you will. So it wasn’t a matter of trying to give a direction to the rest of the Communion, more to deal with the reality of our own life here.’   The current crisis in the Communion began with the election of Gene Robinson as bishop of New Hampshire in 2003. Was Sisk glad about this bold development, or did it feel like an alarming leap into the unknown? ‘Well, ideally these things would be neat, and there would be guidelines in place, but in real communities the process tends to be more difficult. This man was well known and highly regarded. Everyone knew that he was in a committed same-sex relationship; nevertheless they voted for him. And I personally am somebody who is very committed to the democratic process. They may be wrong, but they gotta live with their decisions. They know their own situation best.’ But diocesan democracy is not the whole story: the bishops had the choice of whether to approve the election, didn’t they? ‘Yes, and the questions for me were: first, is this man a Christian, a faithful person? I felt he clearly was. Is he living an openly and notoriously evil life? In my opinion no. Did this election take place properly? Yes, I felt it did.’ If the subsequent crisis had been somehow forseen, would this approval still have taken place? ‘I think it’s entirely possible that it would have.’   Has the Church been pretty united in backing Robinson, despite all the external anger? ‘Yes, not unanimous of course, but press reports of internal dissension have been far overblown. In this diocese, which admittedly is not typical, no parish has left. Overall, two or three hundred parishes have, out of seven thousand congregations.’ Losing five percent of the Church doesn’t sound too fatal, but it could get worse if the dissenters are granted recognition by the Anglican Communion, as the more authentic Anglicans.   From a liberal point of view, I suggest, the Episcopal Church emerges from the crisis stronger than ever. It has got off the fence, declared its liberal identity. For example the document it issued in 2005, ‘To set our hope on Christ’, boldly argues that acceptance of homosexuality is in keeping with the Pauline idea of grace, and implies that the conservatives are guilty of moral legalism. Does Sisk agree that the crisis has been a good thing, theologically? ‘Yes, it’s good that certain positions have been clarified. And also, if you are a gay or lesbian person around the world, in a place where you’re told you are demon, that you don’t deserve to live, for those people to know there’s a place in the world where they’re told they’re a beloved child of God, that’s good news to them. That’s an upside of the highly connected world in which we live.’   And the pro-gay line helps in communicating the gospel to young liberal agnostics here at home? ‘Yes I think it does have positive impact for mission, but again I think one of the great dangers is that we are insufficiently articulate as to why this is the case – lots of voices want to say, oh they’re just being up to date with all the latest secular thinking – and we mustn’t acquiesce to that interpretation.’ The Episcopal Church does have a reputation, I suggest, for wacky liberalism, liturgical experimentalism, lesbians knitting their own vestments (I don’t say the last bit). ‘I think that’s a very popular interpretation of the Episcopal Church in England – an assumption that we’re wacky, out-there, anywhere, and clergy can do whatever they want. Our disciplinary procedures for clergy are actually very rigorous, compared with certain other parts of the Communion, including parts of England in fact.’   The crisis in the Communion is still unfolding. In an attempt to keep the conservatives from walking away, Rowan Williams is urging all the provinces to sign a Covenant – essentially a promise not to innovate in ways that are unacceptable to the majority. Provinces that prize their autonomy too highly to sign will be reduced to ‘associate’ members of the club. Would such a change in status matter to the Episcopal Church? Or might it be a badge of pride, like Hester Prynne’s scarlet letter? The bishop is reluctant to be drawn on this; he offers some rhetoric about the aim of the Covenant being to keep as many people as possible talking, and that being a good thing, and it being too early to say what the American response will be.   Support for the ordination of homosexuals entails the desire to see gay marriage, I suggest. So Sisk is in favour of changing the nature of marriage? He hesitates slightly. ‘I think the Church is sort of wrestling with that, but there is no consensus yet. Personally I believe in moving that direction.’   What has emerged over the last few years is that the Atlantic marks a major difference in ecclesiology. The crisis has showcased the democratic habits of the Episcopal Church. If the debate in the Communion starts going its way, as progressives assume, it could emerge with new authority, as the new model of Anglican Church, could it not? ‘I think it’s a mistake to prescribe for another community what their structures should be. In this large and pluralistic country democratic processes work reasonably well. England is a different country – how it works things out is its own business. I wouldn’t want to tell England how to operate, and I don’t think England understands at all well how we operate.’

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