Church’s core mission at stake
by Julie A. Wortman

As I write this, email gossip claims that there’s a significant wave of sentiment among the Episcopal Church’s bishops, probably prompted by this month’s Claiming the Blessing conference in St. Louis, that this is not the time to be pressuring for approval of rites of blessing for committed relationships outside of marriage. Everyone knows that these rites would be primarily used by partners in committed same-sex relationships. There are other, more important issues for the church to be addressing, many bishops say, urging that we not get pulled off track from our core mission by this minor, if controversial, issue. And PLEASE, more than one has added with unmistakable irritation and weariness, let’s not dignify this as a "justice" issue!

I’m sorry, but I must question the honesty of this stance. The fact is, this withholding of the church’s blessing for committed same-sex relationships is a crucial stumbling block to the church’s ability to stand clear and unequivocally on behalf of right relationship of all kinds. ("Right relationship" is just another way of saying "justice," by the way, but maybe with a stronger flavor of the flesh-and-blood implications when it is lacking.)

I can’t help thinking of the parallel with the U.S. government and the current administration’s claim of righteousness in being a global champion of democracy. U.S. willingness to support oppressive regimes in the name of national security, however, makes it just about impossible to convince anyone who is paying attention of our integrity. In a crunch, power and self-interest drives U.S. policy – as they do in the church. It’s a disappointing history, but the church has always shown that some of us matter more than others when it comes to the possibility of losing the financial support of bigots, or allocating resources, or calling into question the traditional patriarchal power structure.

I know, I’m fuming here. I’ve just completed another season of weddings. My partner, Anne, officiated at one. Friends, family and acquaintances – all parents of the young cohabitating lovers in question (not all embarking on marriage for the first time) -–spent hours filling us in on the heart-warming details. The dress, the reception, the honeymoon plans, the anticipated family reunions. And then there were the afterglow debriefings of how great the landmark day had been. Never a moment’s doubt that we’d be interested and pleased for this great blessing in their lives despite the discrimination that makes marriage – or even a supplementary rite of blessing – impossible for us.

The unconsciousness of privilege is a marvel.

The church tells Anne and me that if we want it to participate sacramentally in our declaration of love for one another and in our commitment to partner in faithful discipleship to Christian values we are out of luck unless a courageous diocese or a maverick priest risks institutional censure to stand with us. But we don’t need or want the heroism. Just some basic respect.

Anne and I have been life partners for close to 18 years. We’ve known each other for longer, but only we know exactly when we made our covenant of faithful, monogamous, God-celebrating lifelong commitment. No photos, no toasts, no promises of support. But when the time is right, we’ve agreed, we’ll throw a party to celebrate the blessing of our life together. We’ll invite all the neighbors and friends and family who have asked us to participate in their "real" weddings and if they want to shower us with gifts, great.

Maybe by that time the church will have caught up with us and provided a rite that will dignify and honor our commitment. I pray that will be so. Because I agree with those bishops who say the church’s core mission is at stake. As long as right relationship is denied any, it is denied us all – and everything the church does will be compromised by the omission.