General Convention and when it "comes through the red doors"

The General Convention of the Episcopal Church (TEC) is going on just down the street from me, in Anaheim. And reading the reports about it have me thinking about my parish. There are those in my parish who say that they won't leave TEC until the heresy "comes through the red doors", i.e., into our parish itself, into the very church building.

I think it already has, in the form of our candidates for ordination being denied because they were Christians. But many of my friends (again, good and faithful people) disagree.

Anyway, reading this report from the floor of General Convention has me thinking about my parish:

. . . "I think I've said this before, but send any average pew-sitting "everything's okay and the guy to my right is just making too much noise about our beloved church" moderate to a General Convention and they quickly become both Highly Knowledgeable and Deeply Depressed about the state of our national church."

But send any average pew-sitting moderate to a General Convention and they also quickly decide "let's not focus on the national level" too. They hunker down and think about their Brotherhood of St. Andrew, or their DOK chapter, or their altar guild, or their [fill in blank].

In a strange sense, then, blasting to your average moderate all the Bad Awful News about just how dreadful things are doesn't do a lick of good -- because their response, once they grant your underlying thesis ["we're being led by the inmates"] is "there is nothing that we can do about it so why even think about it."

That's one reason why I've always loved the movie The Patriot. It so amply demonstrated just what it took to get the main character good and riled up. It wasn't abstract glorious principle about liberty, freedom, and individual rights. It wasn't his sitting by the fireside and reading Thomas Jefferson, Paine, or French philosophers. It was when his farm was attacked, his crops burned, his child killed.

The metaphor in that last paragraph exactly describes the "through the red door" frame of mind. And I'm no different from anyone else in my parish, except that my "through the red door" moment came earlier, no glory to me - I was a late-comer compared to many of my friends who left years ago. Is it bad that I hope my fellow parishioners' "through the red door" moments come soon, so that we can all leave together?

I don't want more heresy. But if God does not see fit to confound the heretics (or convert them - better yet!), may He instead make their heresy crystal-clear, so we can all see it for what it is. As the old Irish blessing goes:

May those who love us, love us.
As for those who do not love us, may God turn their hearts.
And if He will not turn their hearts, may He turn their ankles,
That we may know them by their limping.

Anyone for a new read-through of That Hideous Strength?

Pray for us Episcopalians.

Peace of Christ to you,
Jessica Snell