THE SCHISM AND GUILT
St. Stephen's Episcopal Church, in Ansonborough, Charleston, is celebrating its bicentenary (1822-2022). In honor of this, on October 16, 2022, the parish held a roundtable conversation where parishioners shared their memories and thoughts about the history of the church. Historically, St. Stephen's has been well known as a "gay friendly" parish. A video of the roundtable discussion is available on Youtube.
In watching the video, it occurred to me something that I had not known before, that at least some people in the local gay community feel guilt over causing the schism. As I have said repeatedly, the issue of homosexuality was the direct, or immediate, cause of the schism. So, the question at hand is: If the issue of homosexuality were the direct cause of the schism, should the homosexuals of lower South Carolina bear the guilt of the schism? Did they cause the schism?
In a word, no. Here are my thoughts on this:
In the first place, it is well known that victims of wrongdoing or abuse often blame themselves for their own predicaments. For instance, battered wives and girlfriends often blame themselves for the abuse they suffer. This is one reason why so many people in abusive relationships stay in them even though this can lead to further and increasing suffering, despair, and even death or suicide. Psychologists could explain why victims blame themselves better than I could.
In the second place, historical problems that arise from social factors do not necessarily derive from the people involved. For instance, the fundamental cause of the Civil War was slavery. So, were the slaves themselves guilty of causing the Civil War? Certainly not. Personally, they had nothing to do with bringing on the war. They had no reason at all to feel guilty about the most horrific conflict in American history. The war was caused by white people who either favored or opposed the institution of slavery.
Moreover, it is a fact of life that bad things sometimes happen to good people. This is oldest known written problem of humankind. The oldest extant work of literature, the Sumerian The Epic of Gilgamesh addressed that very issue. In the Bible version of this story, the book of Job, a "friend" told Job he had fallen away from God and this had caused his miseries. The only way back was to make amends with God. In other words, the friend told Job he was the cause of his own problems. Job refused to believe it. He knew had not turned against God. He remained true to God and to himself to the very end. Here was a case where the victim refused to blame himself.
Arguably the worst calamity of the Twentieth Century was the Holocaust. Jews across Europe were subjected to horrors to the point that six million of them were murdered by evil-minded men. Many European Jews wondered out loud what they had done wrong to merit such treatment. In truth, they had done nothing wrong. They were simply the innocent victims of satanic forces that had taken over much of Europe. It was the malignant and deranged minds of the murderers at fault, not the Jews themselves.
Now, to the schism in the Episcopal Diocese of South Carolina. Although the direct cause was the interface between the church and homosexuality, this was part of a much larger and more complicated picture. The underlying and background causes of the schism derived from a split between the national church and the local diocese on the relationship between God and man and the proper place of man in the social institutions. The national church adopted a course of social reform, primarily in equality for and inclusion of African Americans, women, and homosexuals. The diocesan leaders recoiled from the reforms in favor of what they saw as the traditional God-given social conventions.
The Diocese of South Carolina was the very last of all dioceses to integrate its convention. The first historically black parish, St. Mark's, of Charleston, was finally admitted in 1954, after seven years of being denied its annual requests for admission and nearly a century after the parish had been formed. It was no coincidence that the first parochial (St. Philip's, of Charleston) criticism of the national church appeared immediately afterwards. Parochial and diocesan opposition to the policies of the national church concerning race became louder and louder as the 1960's went along. Some people suspect that the schism of 2012 was actually a delayed reaction to the racial integration of the diocese. Perhaps, but I have no empirical evidence of this. It is, however, part of the bigger picture.
The DSC was also the very last diocese to give women equality and inclusion in parochial and diocesan institutions. By the time of the schism, there were relatively few women among the clergy, half the national average. Women had never been allowed to be rectors of large or medium sized parishes. Women had never been a majority on any important diocesan committee. No woman had ever been chair of such a committee. It was no surprise then that all the historically black parishes and most of the women clergy stayed with the Episcopal diocese at the break.
So, the problem was the embedded and systemic prejudice and discrimination against elements outside of the white patriarchical power structure of the diocese. African Americans, women, and gays were the victims of bias, not the perpetrators of it.
As the diocesan leadership reacted in opposition to the Episcopal Church social reforms of the age, they became neo-Pharisees, quoting scriptural laws hiding behind Bible verses supposedly supporting their positions, and standing in judgment on others who were not like themselves. In reality, Jesus had come to replace, or displace, the Pharisees, that is, to put love of God and man above law and tradition. This was the Great Commandment.
And so the Pharisees of the DSC adopted positions against human rights and for traditional social institutions, at least for women and homosexuals. They strongly endorsed the Jerusalem statement of 2008 that both condemned homosexuality and broke with the Anglican provinces (as TEC) that had favored and incorporated rights for gays. After the schism, the breakaway diocese institutionalized homophobia in its Statement of Faith, of 2015, that was made mandatory throughout the diocese. Then, they institutionalized the inferiority of women by joining the Anglican Church in North America that banned females from the office of bishop and allowed local dioceses to ban women from the priesthood. Since there were no historically black parishes in the schismatic diocese, race was not really an issue. It was on the roles of women and gays that the schismatic diocese made its stand against human rights.
So, back to our original point. Should the homosexual people of lower South Carolina feel guilty for the schism? Absolutely not. Blaming them would make as much sense as blaming the slaves for the Civil War. While the historical problems came from social institutions, the people involved in those very institutions did nothing to bring on the crises. They were the victims of forces beyond them. Let us not confuse the victims with the perpetrators.
The Episcopal Church has struggled hard for seventy years now for the worth and dignity of every human being. This is the baptismal covenant put into action. This movement has been a great democratic revolution which itself was part of a larger sweep of democratic reforms in America, and even the world. It is fair to say there have been vast improvements in human rights as the result of the revolution, and the Episcopal Church's part in it.
The people who broke off of the Episcopal Diocese of South Carolina, and the Episcopal Church, in 2012 believed this human rights revolution was bad religion. It is wrong to question their motives, but it is not wrong to question their judgments. In my view, their judgments were short-sighted and unfortunate. These caused the schism of 2012 and the terrible decade-long aftermath of civil war.
In my view, there is a right side and a wrong side of the schism in South Carolina. The right side is the one that values the worth and dignity of every human being who is, after all, made in God's image. This is consistent with the Great Commandment.