In Gratitude for One Who Shares God’s Dream for the World

Desmond Tutu is retiring!!! Tomorrow, October 7, 2010, will be his 79^th birthday and, at his wife's insistence, he will retire. I'm not sure what that means exactly, but I assume it means he will not be traveling or making public appearances. Perhaps he will no longer write. According to an article in Time magazine ("The Laughing Bishop," October 11, 2010) he will no longer take an active role in the Desmond Tutu Peace Centre. Whatever it means for his life, for millions of people, to quote the article written by Alex Perry, "a world without Tutu will be a bit darker, a little more dull."

Beyond the impact of on South Africa, his retirement is certainly a loss for the Anglican Communion. At a time when so many in Africa are beating the drum of exclusion, Tutu's voice was always raised in the spirit of radical hospitality and inclusion. For Tutu, the only thing that really matters is that we are all human beings, all children of God who are loved by our Creator. Having this in common, we are called to love and accept each other.

In his book God has a Dream: A Vision of Hope for Our Time Tutu wrote:

"In God's family, there are no outsiders. All are insiders. Black and white, rich and poor, gay and straight, Jew and Arab, Palestinian and Israeli, Roman Catholic and Protestant, Serb and Albanian, Hutu and Tutsi, Muslim and Christian, Buddhist and Hindu, Pakistani and Indian – all belong. . . . God's dream wants us to be brothers and sisters, wants us to be family. . . . In our world we can survive only together. We can be truly free, ultimately, only together. We can be human only together, black and white, rich and poor, Christian, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, and Jew."

Looking at the world in which we live, seeing the barriers we erect and the chasms that often separate us, it would be easy to read Tutu's vision and think of it as pollyannaish. Yet, this vision arises out of a lifetime of experience with apartheid in South Africa and the long, slow journey toward healing that country still struggles to follow.

This reminds me of another statement by Archbishop Tutu written in a column a few years ago. I don't remember the exact words. He was writing about the peace process between Israel and Palestine. He wrote that he was not optimistic about peace ever becoming a reality in that troubled part of the world. However, as a Christian, he was filled with hope, hope that by the mercy and grace of God peace would someday be a reality.

Desmond Tutu is the personification of that wonderful verse from the letter to the Hebrews (11:1): "Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." What sort of world might we live in if we followed his example? Perhaps the thing to do is start following his example right where we live, in our homes, neighborhoods, schools, workplaces, and communities. If we can't change the whole world, perhaps we can change where we live.

Happy retirement, Archbishop Tutu! Enjoy a well-deserved rest from your labors. And thank you for shining the light of Christ in our world.

Unity and Hospitality

The headline in the July 11 Convention Daily reads, Restraint, or welcome by the Episcopal Church? Several articles the Daily discuss issues surrounding community and the church. How can we be a united body when we disagree? Are there limits to our hospitality? Who is welcomed and who is not? Who decides?

While much of the discussion at General Convention surrounds the inclusion of gays and lesbians in the church (especially focused on the consecration of bishops) these are not the only people who struggle to be fully included. There is an article about young adults finding their place and voice in the church and another about the consent of the newly elected Bishop of Central Ecuador.

For all of the legislation that is being discussed and adopted at General Convention, the most important discussions happening over the 10 days of convention are the ones about issues that are difficult, if not impossible, to legislate. How open and inclusive will we be? What lines will be drawn? Can we be both inclusive -- allowing for the diversity that creates -- and unified?

The Rt. Rev. Barbara Harris, the first consecrated woman bishop in the Episcopal Church, asked this question in her sermon during the Integrity Eucharist on July 10: "What right does anyone have to draw lines beyond to whom God's grace, care, and favor extend?" I believe she gets at the heart of the tension here. Who has the right? Who draws the lines? And where are the lines drawn, if at all? Do we draw them at ordination? Do we draw them at baptism?

Richard Hooker, the 16th century Anglican priest and theologian, wrote that there were two churches, the invisible and the visible. The invisible church is the one only God can see for only God can look truly into our hearts to see who is faithful. The visible church is the one we can see. Since we are not able to see into people's hearts and souls, we must be as open and comprehensive as possible, making sure the boundaries of the church are as wide as they can be. Since we are not God, we are not the ones who can close the doors and put up the fences that separate us.

Hospitality and welcome are risky. To be truly open means that we must accept and welcome those who differ from us. It means we must accept others as our brothers and sisters in Christ, not based on agreement or similarity but on our common faith in Jesus. Unity, then, comes out of our relationship through Christ, not out of our agreement and similarity.

I'm not sure what will come out of convention, but I hope that in the midst of our congregational life we can open wide our doors and our hearts. Let's not try to be God by drawing the lines of what and who is acceptable. Let's practice love and hospitality, not by drawing lines but by creating openings in the boundaries so all those who seek God's grace, care, and favor can find it with us.