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Forward in faith together
By Dorothy Cummings McLean
October 30, 2009
Dorothy Cummings McLean
The news that Benedict XVI has made the way straight for Anglicans wishing for communion with Rome burst over Britain like fireworks on Bonfire Night. British media reaction was typical: misleading and hysterical. “The Pope’s power grab” shouted The Economist. “Rome has parked its tanks on the archbishop of Canterbury’s lawn,” shrieked the Times. “Pope announces plans for Anglicans to convert en masse,” enthused the Telegraph.
The real story is dramatic, if not quite as dramatic as the headlines. For two years traditionalist Anglican groups, including Forward in Faith and the breakaway Traditional Anglican Communion (TAC), have been negotiating with the Vatican for eventual inclusion within the Roman communion. In response, Benedict XVI has drawn up an Apostolic Constitution that details how these Anglicans may be reunited with us while retaining their liturgical traditions and current leadership. This Apostolic Constitution has not yet been released to the public, but that hasn’t stopped the media from commenting upon both it and traditional Anglicans. In Canada, Michael Valpy of the Globe and Mail likened our brethren to “the boils of Job.”
The real story is dramatic, if not quite as dramatic as the headlines. For two years traditionalist Anglican groups, including Forward in Faith and the breakaway Traditional Anglican Communion (TAC), have been negotiating with the Vatican for eventual inclusion within the Roman communion. In response, Benedict XVI has drawn up an Apostolic Constitution that details how these Anglicans may be reunited with us while retaining their liturgical traditions and current leadership. This Apostolic Constitution has not yet been released to the public, but that hasn’t stopped the media from commenting upon both it and traditional Anglicans. In Canada, Michael Valpy of the Globe and Mail likened our brethren to “the boils of Job.”
Here in Scotland, I read the news and called my husband. Before his conversion, Mark was a Scottish Episcopalian. Indeed, he was once secretary to the Scottish branch of Forward in Faith. In the 1990s, their principle concern was to maintain traditional orders in the Anglican communion. They were unhappy when women were ordained to the diaconate, fearing, despite assurances otherwise, that women would be admitted to the Anglican priesthood. And when women were indeed admitted, traditional Anglicans fought against having to accept their ministrations.
“For most people, it wasn’t misogyny,” says Mark. “It was a concern for the validity of the Holy Eucharist. For some evangelicals it was about female headship, but that wasn’t an Anglo-Catholic issue.”
Masters of the art of compromise, the Church of England set up structures so that Anglicans who believed in historical priesthood would not be forced to accept women priests or the leadership of bishops who ordained them. (The bishops of the Scottish Episcopalian branch simply dismissed the concerns of their people.)
Not satisfied, hundreds of Anglican priests and more laypeople left the Church of England and became Roman Catholics, joined evangelical Protestant communities or simply stopped going to church.
But most traditionalists in Britain, including my husband, clung to the Anglican communion, their beautiful churches, their euphonious liturgies. As they were increasingly shunned by other Anglicans as misogynists and, later, homophobes, they clung also to each other. The loss of each traditionalist Anglican to Roman Catholicism meant fewer and fewer people to fight for historical Anglicanism. The only way for their community and parishes to survive, they thought, would be to come to Rome together, not separately.
For over a century, Anglo-Catholics dreamed that the Church of England would one day be reunited with the Church of Rome. But since the Second Vatican Council, neither Roman Catholic bishops in England nor Roman Catholic ecumenists have been keen on the idea. For one thing, ecumenical dialogue between two Christian groups forbids active proselytizing. Instead of celebrating a victory for Christian unity this week, many Catholic ecumenists have wrung their hands, worried that our friendly relationship with the greater Anglican communion has been horribly compromised by Benedict’s initiative. The media fantasy that Benedict XVI is an Erwin Rommel taking back Westminster Abbey by force is a nightmare for people involved in Catholic-Anglican dialogue.
Meanwhile, not all Catholics are thrilled about the beliefs of Anglicans who wish to join us. When the Church of England was still considering the admission of women to their orders, it was urged on by Roman Catholic woman-priest enthusiasts. Many Roman Catholic progressives look upon the bedraggled Anglican traditionalists, with their stubborn adherence to the male priesthood and biblical teachings on sexuality, and feel annoyed. They would prefer that Catholics become more Anglican, not that Anglicans become more Catholic. Why could the archbishop of Canterbury not park his tanks on the front lawn of the Vatican?
“This is possibly the most important thing the Pope has done,” says my husband. Mark has been following me around the flat for two days providing me with sound bites. I became a Roman Catholic when I was four months old: the longing of Anglicans for Rome is not my story, it’s his. My only Anglican-Catholic reunification story comes from a conversation in the Toronto School of Theology building.
An Anglican woman and I were discussing the late Rev. Eugene Fairweather, an Anglican founder of TST. A leading ecumenist, Dr. Fairweather initially opposed the ordination of women because he believed the innovation would forever end any hope of reunification with Rome. But in the end, reported my interlocutor, he was persuaded to support women’s ordination.
She flashed me a victorious grin, and I smiled politely back. It was obvious that my interlocutor found women’s ordination much, much more important than Christian unity. But not all Anglicans agree with her, and they’re sitting here on our doorstep. I hope that all of us will find it in our hearts to welcome them.
“For most people, it wasn’t misogyny,” says Mark. “It was a concern for the validity of the Holy Eucharist. For some evangelicals it was about female headship, but that wasn’t an Anglo-Catholic issue.”
Masters of the art of compromise, the Church of England set up structures so that Anglicans who believed in historical priesthood would not be forced to accept women priests or the leadership of bishops who ordained them. (The bishops of the Scottish Episcopalian branch simply dismissed the concerns of their people.)
Not satisfied, hundreds of Anglican priests and more laypeople left the Church of England and became Roman Catholics, joined evangelical Protestant communities or simply stopped going to church.
But most traditionalists in Britain, including my husband, clung to the Anglican communion, their beautiful churches, their euphonious liturgies. As they were increasingly shunned by other Anglicans as misogynists and, later, homophobes, they clung also to each other. The loss of each traditionalist Anglican to Roman Catholicism meant fewer and fewer people to fight for historical Anglicanism. The only way for their community and parishes to survive, they thought, would be to come to Rome together, not separately.
For over a century, Anglo-Catholics dreamed that the Church of England would one day be reunited with the Church of Rome. But since the Second Vatican Council, neither Roman Catholic bishops in England nor Roman Catholic ecumenists have been keen on the idea. For one thing, ecumenical dialogue between two Christian groups forbids active proselytizing. Instead of celebrating a victory for Christian unity this week, many Catholic ecumenists have wrung their hands, worried that our friendly relationship with the greater Anglican communion has been horribly compromised by Benedict’s initiative. The media fantasy that Benedict XVI is an Erwin Rommel taking back Westminster Abbey by force is a nightmare for people involved in Catholic-Anglican dialogue.
Meanwhile, not all Catholics are thrilled about the beliefs of Anglicans who wish to join us. When the Church of England was still considering the admission of women to their orders, it was urged on by Roman Catholic woman-priest enthusiasts. Many Roman Catholic progressives look upon the bedraggled Anglican traditionalists, with their stubborn adherence to the male priesthood and biblical teachings on sexuality, and feel annoyed. They would prefer that Catholics become more Anglican, not that Anglicans become more Catholic. Why could the archbishop of Canterbury not park his tanks on the front lawn of the Vatican?
“This is possibly the most important thing the Pope has done,” says my husband. Mark has been following me around the flat for two days providing me with sound bites. I became a Roman Catholic when I was four months old: the longing of Anglicans for Rome is not my story, it’s his. My only Anglican-Catholic reunification story comes from a conversation in the Toronto School of Theology building.
An Anglican woman and I were discussing the late Rev. Eugene Fairweather, an Anglican founder of TST. A leading ecumenist, Dr. Fairweather initially opposed the ordination of women because he believed the innovation would forever end any hope of reunification with Rome. But in the end, reported my interlocutor, he was persuaded to support women’s ordination.
She flashed me a victorious grin, and I smiled politely back. It was obvious that my interlocutor found women’s ordination much, much more important than Christian unity. But not all Anglicans agree with her, and they’re sitting here on our doorstep. I hope that all of us will find it in our hearts to welcome them.
Dorothy Cummings McLean