On the selection of the Archbishop of Canterbury

You know, one thing that's wonderful about having a blog is that when you put a mistake in print, it will stay in the blogosphere forever, like one of those rogue satellites.

I found this little tidbit today from the London Times:

And, despite Africans' claims that the process was a colonial imposition, they did choose him: although the appointment was formally made by the Queen on the recommendation of the Prime Minister, the Archbishop's name was put forward by an electoral college made up of Church members. It consulted widely, in a process that took far longer than a papal convocation, and was endorsed by a meeting of all the Anglican primates in the Communion. As Anthony Sadler, the then Archbishops' Secretary for Appointments, wrote to The Times yesterday about the meeting of the primates: “I have never attended a meeting where the presence of the Holy Spirit was so clearly and movingly in evidence.”

Which just goes to show how little I know about the mechanisms of the Anglican Communion.

One thing I do not know: can someone beyond the UK be appointed by the Queen to serve as Archbishop of Canterbury? Even looking at the procedures for the appointment of the ABC on the Church of England's website, it is not clear.

One thing I would like to point out is the way this comment in the Times protests against "Africans' claims that the process was a colonial imposition." But despite his use of the plural, this is Archbishop Orombi's claim, not the continental church's claim as a whole.

I have to say, after looking through the procedures for appointing the Archbishop of Canterbury, I still think Archbishop Orombi has made a reasonable point. It's hard not to think that the C of E and England's government has the upper hand on the ABC's selection when you read, "The Prime Minister, after consultation, appoints a communicant lay member of the Church of England to chair the Crown Appointments Commission, which oversees the selection of a new Archbishop of Canterbury." And et cetera and et cetera and so forth. Still sounds rather imperious to me.

Archbishop Orombi in the London Times

I'm a bit behind the times here (pun really unintended, because it would be a lame pun), but last Friday in the Times, Archbishop Orombi of Uganda published a column as a guest contributor that is worth noting.

He writes, "We believe that our absence at this Lambeth Conference is the only way that our voice will be heard. For more than ten years we have been speaking and have not been heard. So maybe our absence will speak louder than our words." Which reminds me very much of the time that my sister and my mother were] having an argument and my sister's side consisted of the refrain: "You're not listening to me! You're not listening to me!" and finally, "You're not agreeing with me!"

But the Archbishop has a very good point (i.e. I'm agreeing with him) when he says, "Since that meeting [of the primates in 2003, after the election of Bishop Gene Robinson there have been numerous other “betrayals” to the extent that it is now hard to believe that the leadership in the American Church means what it says. They say that they are not authorising blessings of same-sex unions, yet we read newspaper reports of them. Two American bishops have even presided at such services of blessings. Bishops have written diocesan policies on the blessings of same-sex unions. It is simply untrue to say they have not been authorised."

It's driven me crazy, too. There's all sorts of legerdemain in the church about how, "Oh, no, no, we're not authorizing blessings; that's for the national church to decide at General Convention and they never have. We're just proposing rites of same sex blessing" I'm sorry, but that's just sissy talk. It's quite clear that those who are opposed to same sex blessings are opposed to them happening at all. And I can understand why they feel betrayed when the Episcopal Church says they won't authorize same sex blessings and then offers them. It's like the old "I'm not touching you!" torture. Technically, no, but surely we must realize this is pouring salt in the wound.

Why not be up front about it? Why not brave the possibility that we would be kicked out of the club for doing what we think is right? As it is, our behavior makes us look like jerks, and in this article, at least, Orombi is too much of a Christian to say so outright.

The final major point of the Archbishop's article is to state that the office of the Archbishop of Canterbury is a colonial remnant, and he certainly has a point here, too. The only person who can invite people to Lambeth or not is chosen...by the British government. "Even the pope is elected by his peer," the Archbishop notes. And it is indeed very odd. The Archbishop further says, "The spiritual leadership of a global communion of independent and autonomous provinces should not be reduced to one man appointed by a secular government." And I don't think it is, but he raises an issue that I haven't seen mentioned before.

I think the Archbishop, of course, has every right not to attend Lambeth if he doesn't want. I am very sorry if (and I don't have all the details aside from Bishop Mwamba's comments) he prevented other Ugandan bishops from attending Lambeth against their will. But I do think his statement in the Times is more than just a fit of pique and is worth listening to, even if we don't agree.

What the Archbishop doesn't know..., or thoughts on money

Archbishop Orombi stated that he didn't want the Church of Uganda accepting tainted money from those who support homosexuals--"with strings attached." Well, apparently he doesn't know his daughter, Sally Orombi, at whose home I spent Maundy Thursday and had Easter dinner, accepted a donation from me. Horrors!

But money is a very sticky business and I do think the Archbishop has a point, even if I don't agree with his stance. There's still an incredible patronage system that's apparent in Uganda. There are lots of strings attached to money: "We'll give you money if you do it our way." And it's understandable, too, because the patrons, whoever they may be, don't want to see their money wasted.

As far as the church goes, this is a very, very complicated issue--complicated by morality and perceptions of the wealth of the West. This is second-hand, but one church here in California with long-standing ties in Uganda was told they could no longer donate to a diocese there. The bishop told the rector of the church, "When elephants battle, the ants suffer," as I recall (I'll need to ask if that's the exact quote).

Meanwhile, the self-proclaimed "orthodox" Anglicans are apparently offering a great deal of financial support, according to the Archbishop. A quote from the aforelinked interview: "... they support us, they give us money. Oh they give us money. Since we began to relate with our orthodox brethren they have given us much more money, much more money, oh yeah, much more money. They have given us more money."

Are there strings attached? And to what purpose is that money used? Here's hoping and praying it goes to relieve suffering and help those in need. I'm not sure I care where the money comes from as long as it's going to that purpose. I doubt that any money from anyone is totally pure.

A lead from "The Lead"

The Lead is a newsy bit of a website called "The Episcopal Cafe" which had a relevant entry today entitled "Archbishop Orombi believes gay people are out to kill him."

Archbishop Henry Orombi is the Primate of Uganda, in case the name doesn't ring a bell. He is quoted in the New Vision, a Ugandan daily, saying that he doesn't dare wear clericals when in countries that have supporters of homosexuals. “I am forced to dress like a civilian because those people are dangerous. They can harm anybody who is against them. Some of them are killers. They want to close the mouth of anybody who is against them.”

Lead has this trenchant comment: "One might have supposed that Henry Orombi could have walked down any street in America wearing a t-shirt that said, 'Hey, I'm Henry Orombi' and people still wouldn't have recognized him." Here's his picture so that you can indeed identify him, though I guess he won't be wearing the purple and collar.

A couple of thoughts:

One--one of the things I came to realize during my time in Uganda is that the perception is almost (and I emphasize almost) as important as the reality as far as the West is concerned. (More on this later.) Now, it is possible that the Archbishop has received threats, and if so, that is deplorable.

Two--on the other hand, is this merely demonizing "those people"? This is the same kind of language used to support bigotry the world over: Those people are dangerous. There's a significant difference between saying, "I am afraid" and "People are trying to kill me." It's the difference between saying honestly where I am and projecting motives onto other people, and it is an important and significant difference.

Three--I think he's in more danger for being black than for being anti-homosexual in most of these supposedly "gay-supporting countries." And, as the Lead says, "the instances of violence against gays and lesbians are likely to remain more numerous than the instances of violence by gays and lesbians against Anglican archbishops." One comment I read on this is that this kind of speech may very likely spark violence against homosexuals in Uganda (because, of course, they are threatening killers, the Archbishop says so) than it is to provide the Archbishop with any needed protection, if indeed he needs any.

Four--it seems like the way to counteract this kind of perception is for the Archbishop to meet and know gay and lesbian people, to love and be loved by them, to take away the demon mask that he sees them wearing.

And finally, on a different note--I didn't take my clericals to Uganda, not knowing how the people there would react to a woman in a collar. I was fearful, and it turned out to be unnecessary. And I did the very same thing I suspect the Archbishop of doing: instead of saying, "I am afraid," I immediately went to "What will they do when they see me?"

Perfect love casts out all fear. That's what I'm praying for. For all of us.