There's only "us"

           The 79^thGeneral Convention of The Episcopal Church wrapped up last Friday here in Austin.  For those not familiar with The Episcopal Church (TEC), this convention is a triennial gathering for the governance of our church.  However, it is so much more than that, as I came to learn.  GC79 was my first convention and I am still riding a high from the experience. My friend, the Rev. Albert Kennington, put it so wonderfully to me just days before GC79 started - “General Convention is a massive gathering of passionate, opinionated, determined, (and some co-dependent) people -- hundreds of them - some days, thousands of them -- loving, arguing, praying, preening, legislating, protesting, worshiping, marketing, eating (lots) and drinking (lots) and acting like they/we think they/we are people of God.”

            And, oh what a two weeks it was!  I have never seen so many Episcopalians gathered in one spot.  I met many wonderfully talented and faithful people from all around the world, and my home is littered with churchy paraphernalia and swag. Different regional accents and languages gave a taste of pre-Pentecost Jerusalem, until we were filled with the Holy Spirit and praying as one. The agenda items we tackled as a church were important (re-introduction of Cuba as a diocese of TEC, witness at the Hutto Detention Center), at times profoundly heartbreaking (the bishops’ #metoo listening session), at times full of levity (did someone mention a delegation of pigeons?), and at times seemingly divisive (BCP revision, same sex marriage rites accessibility, divestment in Israel). 

            As I sat in legislative and committee meetings, I was at once struck by how passionate people were about the various issues debated. The issues brought out the best of us, and, at times, brought out the worst.  As with issues in general, people took sides.  For the most part, there was deep listening and a desire to move towards one another in ways that witnessed to our greater purpose.  However, sometimes our passions led us to make “others” of those we did not, or could not, agree with.  “I can’t believe them!” or “What’s wrong with them?” were common refrains I heard as folks retreated to their corners and dug into positions that looked as though they would forever be irreconcilable.  With every resolution passed by both houses, there were folks who walked away disappointed and the “othering” continued. Yet, what was equally apparent was a sense that these differences, in the end, could not result in the demonization or ostracism of those we didn’t agree with if we wanted to walk together as a church.   In the end, there was no “them”, there was only “us”.   And the realization of that “us”, of being something larger than our differences, must take on a larger meaning if our church is serious about finding ways to be the body of Christ. 

            “Us” feels great in moments of celebration and joy, but can we be “us” when it is most needed and in times of great difficulty?  This is the prayer on my lips, because it would mean a more inclusive understanding of who we are as Christians, and what respecting the dignity of every human can do to help us move towards a greater heaven on earth.  And undergirding it all will be love.   The love that Christ imparts through us, the love that we can offer one another with no strings attached, the love that moves us beyond simply the governance of our church to the transformation of our beings as the children of God.  Let’s claim it, then.  Let’s claim that love, because in the end there is only “us”.