[I composed this before arriving in Canterbury, but wanted to wait for the Conference to begin before publishing it.]

In the run-up document to the Global Anglican Future Conference entitled “The Way, the Truth, and the Life,” there is a remarkable statement:

“ English and American Anglicanism fell victim to certain bishops – John A.T. Robinson and David Jenkins on one side of the Atlantic, and James Pike and John Spong on the other – who questioned the very ‘substance’ of orthodox Christianity: the transcendence of God, the possibility of miracles, the Virgin Birth and Bodily Resurrection of Christ and, underlying all, the authority of the Bible.  These bishops kept their office and were, at most, lightly rapped over the knuckles for their controversial views.  In the case of The Episcopal Church USA (TEC), such ‘prophetic’ views were stamped as mainstream with the election of Katherine Jefferts Schori as Presiding Bishop in 2006.” (page 39)

Hmm... first of all, some truth needs to be told, namely, that Bishop Jefferts-Schori was elected Presiding Bishop when a group of conservative bishops switched their votes in the last rounds of balloting. “They even brag about it,” said one highly-placed Anglican Communion officer to me. Why they did this is a matter of speculation. (If they thought they were electing someone they could push around, they were sorely mistaken.) But to tag the election of Bishop Katharine (as I call her) as the House of Bishops’ “stamp of approval” of radical theology is, on the face of it, completely wrong.

So, is she a heretic? That is, does she advisedly hold to teachings that contradict the Church’s clear witness to Jesus Christ, who died for our sins and rose again from the dead? He who is truly human and truly divine, yet one person? In interviews with her, this is clearly not the case.

Now, there are those who think that Bishop Katharine is a heretic because she supports the “full inclusion” of gay people into the Church—that is to say, that it is possible for gay people to lead holy lives as Christians, as long as their sexual expressions of love take place within a covenant bond, just as with straight people.

But there has always been a clear distinction between faith and morals, between doctrinal theology and moral theology. That distinction is formal: the doctrines of the Church may be developed (like the First Council of Nicea introducing the non-biblical word “homoousios” (of one Being) to describe Jesus’ relationship as God to the Father), but they may not be denied. If Bishop Katharine denied the tenets of the Creed, or that Holy Scripture does contain all things necessary to salvation, she would be a heretic, and I would most certainly resign my office as Bishop In Charge of the Presiding Bishop’s jurisdiction.

On the other hand, the moral teachings of the Church have always reflected the context in which the Church found itself. In times past, it has been taught that widowed people could not re-marry; that Christians could own slaves as long as they treated them correctly (see The Letter to Philemon, for instance); that Christians could not charge interest on loans. And so on...

It has never been heresy to disagree with such teachings. Bishop Katharine may turn out to be wrong about changing the traditional teaching on homosexual people. But that is not heresy. What she has also said is that The Episcopal Church has not made its case for this change, and there she is certainly right. The official teaching of our church still remains unchanged: the sexual expression of love is restricted to one man and one woman jwithin the bond of Matrimony (re-affirmed as recently as 2000). (It sounds strange, I know, but there it is.)

Then there is the discipline of the Church, which also can change. For example, at one time slaves coud not marry in the Church because they were not legally people (legitimas persona). But this is not a doctrinal question about God or Christ—it was a decision the Church made during the Roman Empire in order not to get into trouble with the authorities. Similarly, whether women are fit to be ordained as deacons, priests, bishops, is not a doctrinal matter, but one of the church’s discipline. Unless, of course, some could insist on doctrines such as: that women are substantively inferior to men; that Jesus in his earhly ministry did not specifically call women to follow him; that Jesus on the cross did not die for women; etc. These are false teachings, of course. At the same time, if in fact the Holy Spirit is actually calling women to Holy Orders, and the Church is forbidding ordination to them, that too would be a false teaching, perhaps even a heresy, depending on its doctrinal claims.

Of course, there is a deep relationship between doctrine and morals, between knowing and doing. If you know what’s right and you do wrong, you sin. Moral theology therefore must always rest upon right doctrine, and that is how arguments about morality and discipline must be framed—in terms of who we believe God to be (Triune), who Jesus is (the Christ, the Son of God), what the Holy Spirit is saying, first of all in the Scriptures, and what this means for our lives.

The most serious accusation of doctrinal heresy against the Presiding Bishop concerns the question of the uniqueness of Jesus Christ. Bishop Katharine made it clear (in the interview quoted above) that she accepts Jesus Christ to be “the way, the truth, and the life.” But also that God can save people outside the Christian church.

If she were to declare that there are several equally valid ways to salvation outside of Jesus Christ, this would be clear unitarian universalism. And my letter of resignation would be on its way to 815 Second Avenue (the Presiding Bishop’s office).

But to believe that God can save people who have never heard of Jesus is no heresy. Jesus himself said so, to the lawyer who wanted to prove himself (Luke 10: 25-37). The Vatican II document, Nostra ætate, spells this out in terms of interreligious dialogue.

C. S. Lewis, in the climactic novel of the Chronicles of Narnia, entitled The Last Battle, presents a similar idea. A character named Emeth, a heroic warrior fighting against the forces of Aslan, the great Lion, recounts how he met Aslan, who assured him that whenever he sought to do good in serving his false god Tash, in fact he was serving Aslan himself. (see the chapter “Further Up and Further In”). In other words, Jesus Christ the Son of God is the way to salvation, including for those outside the Christian faith.

So “if this be heresy” (to coin a phrase), then the Vatican fathers and C. S. Lewis are heretics along with Bishop Katharine. And me, too.

On the other hand, the Presiding Bishop tries to find new language for expressing this truth, and this may be the cause of some misunderstanding. The word “salvation” has no real meaning for a great many people—it is for the already-converted. I am reminded of a famous gift card, that says on the cover “Jesus saves!” and when opened, “But Moses invests.” Then there is this bumper sticker… We need to find new ways of addressing the people of our time.

Even so, there are people who don’t seem to want to give Katharine Jefferts-Schori a fair hearing, least of all, perhaps, those conservative bishops who got her elected.

But then again, a truly fair hearing would clear her of the charge of heresy.