The Diocese of Dallas Collegiality Day (Mar. 27, 2018)

I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience bearing with one another in love.  (Ephesians 4: 1-2)

            First, I wish to express my thanks to Bishop George for this invitation. I wish also to thank each of you for your generous hospitality. It is good to be back in the Diocese of Dallas. It is good to see old friends. For me this visit is particularly welcome because it provides an opportunity to address with fellow priests and deacons what I consider the most fundamental challenge now before our church and our communion. That challenge is (you guessed it) collegiality.

            Collegiality is a word that suggests a common bond and a shared calling. I find it heartening that the Diocese of Dallas believes it a matter of sufficient importance to mark and celebrate this common bond and shared calling among its clergy. In this day and age, it is far more common to be called to a celebration of difference. Our age provides ample opportunity for the celebration of difference, but shared celebrations of common bonds and shared callings are more and more difficult to find. The sad fact is that, at present, collegiality more often than not does not extend far beyond tribal identity. One must, I think, be willfully blind not to see the tribalism that now tears the fabric of our society. Sad to say it’s hard to miss the fact that something similar to a willful blindness now characterizes the common life of our church and our communion. We like the word “collegiality” but seem more enamored of diversity. Among us, fewer and fewer examples of common bonds and shared callings are to be found.

            The fact is that within the Anglican Communion it is increasingly difficult to speak with a straight face of the collegiality of its Bishops, Priests and Deacons. A significant number of our Bishops, Dioceses and Provinces are no longer bound collegially to the Archbishop of Canterbury. Within our own church many have felt it necessary to separate from our common life. Among those who remain, sharp divisions of belief and practice have become walls that seem impenetrable. Among our clergy it is frequently impossible to see a common bond or a shared calling.

             We use the word collegiality to speak of the common bond and shared calling of our clergy; but collegiality among us is increasingly hard to find. I take it that if this observation is accurate, we are facing a very serious problem—one that poses the question of whether or not we have understood rightly what Paul speaks of as “the calling to which we have been called.” The first three chapters of our Epistle make it clear that God has revealed in Christ the mystery of his will for the creation and for the church. From the beginning it has been God’s purpose to unify all things in Christ. In Christ he has broken down the dividing walls that separate the peoples of the earth from one another and from God. That plan, he says, is being worked out not in the Empire that provided order for the nations of the ancient world, but in the tiny congregations dotted around the Mediterranean basin. Within these little congregations God has united the peoples of the earth into a body composed of fellow citizens, members of a single household, whose life together grows into a holy temple, the place on earth where God is present.

            There is something poignant about the fact that today, in the midst of our divisions, in the midst of our broken bonds and conflicted accounts of our calling, we gather to celebrate our collegiality. Could it be that before we celebrate our collegiality we ought to look again at what collegiality means within the plan of God for his world. Perhaps the first thing God asks of us as we take note of our collegiality is to join Paul in his prayer that God will enlighten the eyes of our hearts so that we may know what is the hope to which he has called us.

            In the midst of our fractured collegiality, what might it mean to have the eyes of our hearts enlightened? Just what is it that God would have us see? I believe God would first have us grasp that his plan for the creation is working itself out, not in the empires of our own age but in the sort of life lived in the congregations now dotted throughout the earth. I believe he would have us ask how it might happen that the little congregations to which we belong are the places where God’s plan to unify all things in Christ is taking form. I believe that he would have us come to a common mind about what we, members of the one, holy and catholic church have as a common calling, namely to be the places throughout the earth where Christ is taking form in the daily lives of their members.

            I believe that God would have us express our collegiality first through a common vision that tears down the walls that divide us and unites us in a common purpose and form of life. Suppose each and every one of us here today shared a vision of what God wants us to be about. Suppose the guiding vision of each and every one of us was to build a congregation in which Christ is taking form. Suppose our collegiality was rooted in a common vision. And suppose we, each of us, gave ourselves to work out this common vision and forge this common bond. How might the parishes in which each of us serve as a priest or deacon come to understand themselves as schools for the service of the Lord, places in which Christ is taking form in the lives of their members? Suppose the daily life of each and every one of us was shaped by this question; and suppose we began to work at it together.

            If this were indeed the case, we would find real collegiality, but that collegiality would be forged in the midst of a fearful struggle. It is simply a fact that it is easier to find examples in which the church is transformed by its surrounding culture than ones in which the culture of the church transforms its host culture. The enormity of the task we face as pastors of the flocks given into our care was brought home to me some years ago when my wife served as Associate Rector of St. James Parish in New York City. She asked Charles Perry, the then Dean of the Washington Cathedral, to give a Lenten program, the subject of which was Christ and the conflict with evil. He began with a question, “How during the day are your children confronted with evil?” The answers were written out on newsprint and taped on the walls of the parish hall. An hour later the listing continued. Suddenly a man got up and said, “I see your point. We parents are out gunned by the culture at almost every point. And the sad thing is that this parish is really of no help to us.”

            I believe his point is self-explanatory. In the midst of the culture that surrounds us, it is difficult to become a parish in which Christ is taking form—a parish whose common life gives witness to God’s unifying purpose for the world. It is more likely that our parishes look like reflections of our culture and its divisions rather than the reflection of the unity of faith, hope and love to which we are called. Paul was aware that the church to which he wrote faced difficulties. These difficulties were every bit as challenging as the ones we face. Nevertheless, in the face of these very difficulties, Paul, a man imprisoned for his beliefs, appeals to his readers “to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called.” That worthy life he recommends is one that is axios, proportionate to the purpose of God to unify all things in Christ. It is a way of life that is, we may say, built for the long haul. It is a way of life that does not assume quick and easy victories over the powers that divide us. It is a way of life constantly confronted with hostility. It is a way of life built upon the belief that the unity purposed by God is both hard won and hard to learn. And so Paul says the manner of life worthy of our calling to be the place where God’s plan for all things is being worked out begins not with certainty but with tapeinophrosune, humility or better openness to instruction. I will take it as given that in respect to openness to instructions we have a lot to learn. We also have a lot to learn about prautes—gentleness toward those with whom we may be at odds. But then we move on to makrothulmia, patience with those who may oppose us or who seem just not to get it. And finally there is anexomenoi, putting up with each other out of love and spoudonzontes,  being eager to maintain unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.! If we read on in Chapter 4 Paul lists a number of things that the congregations must rid themselves of if they are to be worthy of the calling to which they have been called—bitterness, anger, contentious argument, slander and malice. In their place he would have them learn kindness, tenderheartedness and forgiveness.

            These graces, openness to instruction, gentleness, longsuffering patience, putting up with those with whom we disagree, being eager for unity and peace, kindness, tenderheartedness and forgiveness, these graces Paul says give shape to a life proportionate to the calling to which we have been called. They spell out how a congregation that has learned to be imitators of God can be recognized. If you will, they give content to what Christians might mean by collegiality. They give content to what we might mean when we refer to the collegiality we share as clergy, pastors who Paul says God has given as gifts to the church for its up building in a form of life.

            So I close with a challenge faced by each and every one of us. Why not make it our shared calling to become the gift God has intended us to be—pastors who share a common vision and form of life with one another and with the church. And why not make our diocese, our parishes and ourselves examples for our church and our communion of the calling to which we have been called and the form of life worthy of that calling. If we were to undertake this common task as the challenge of our generation would it not be the case that God would consider us worthy of the calling that we share and to which have been called? Amen.