A Change Will Do You Good

By Bryan Cones

When I first set out for seminary at the age of 19, my thousand-mile journey took me to sleepy Nodaway County, Missouri, where a Benedictine monastery welcomed about 80 men a year to prepare for priesthood in the Roman Catholic Church. Given the requirements for priesthood in the Roman Catholic world, we were a pretty uniform lot—most of us were even “college age,” though there were a few “late vocations,” that is, guys in their 30s.

Fast forward 19 years and here I am again, having traded rural Missouri for uber-urban Boston, and specifically the ivory towers of Cambridge here at the Episcopal Divinity School. There is a monastery close by—the Society of St. John the Evangelist—but that’s where the similarity ends. All I have to do is look at my classmates to see the difference: a woman who moved with her partner and children from Texas; another with one child just out of diapers and another only six months old. A woman from northern Virginia who is tired of being, in her words, a “unicorn”—“the” Black Episcopalian in her church. There are commuters from the suburbs, a distance learner from Vermont; some are married or partnered, others single. One man comes to EDS from Burma—he’s Baptist, by the way—another is an Anglican from Nigeria. And that’s in a class of 18.

Change is a watchword in churches these days—as in “change or die”—and my class represents the kind of change I hoped for when I first became an Episcopalian and then came to seminary. It’s a class that embodies the experiment in change the Episcopal Church has been pursuing over the past couple of decades, a church with more open doors and fewer boundaries, a church ready to take risks and maybe fail. It’s also a class that reflects some of the sticking points the experiment has uncovered: the challenge of rethinking our approach to human sexuality, the legacy of racism in a church that is still 90 percent white, the relationship between the Episcopal Church and its sibling churches in the Anglican Communion.

Pretty exciting stuff, and it feels like an exciting time to be exploring possibilities for serving in the church. But I think more change is coming—in me, in my classmates, in the church—and I feel confident that the EDS community is one that’s going support that kind of growth. I’m encouraged by a favorite of mine in the communion of saints, John Henry Newman, whose one journey had a good number of twists and turns. “In a higher world it is otherwise,” he wrote, “but here below to live is to change, and to be perfect is to have changed often.” Not bad advice for a seminarian or the church as a whole.

Bryan Cones, a writer and editor from Chicago, is pursuing a certificate in Anglican studies at EDS.

The Royal Wedding and Colonial Nostalgia

By Kwok Pui-lan

The royal wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton has attracted much media attention. The American media has even gone all out to cover every twist and turn in the run-up to the wedding. The ceremony will be broadcast live on news networks and YouTube, with an estimated 2 billion viewers around the world.

So what is the appeal and the attraction of the royal wedding today? Is it in the details? Will Kate’s bridal gown have a long train? What kind of glasses will Sir Elton John wear? When will the Prince kiss his bride on the balcony of Buckingham Palace?

For some, the royal wedding is to showcase Britain for the tourism business. For others, it is a good distraction from rising gas prices and the possibility of a double-dip recession.

But for me, the royal wedding is a great way to foster and preserve the mystique of the British monarchy. Thus we see Westminster Abbey, the sea of Union Jacks, the 1902 State Landau royal carriage, and the guards with hats made of bearskins.

Last June, the royal wedding of Swedish Crown Princess Victoria to commoner Daniel Westling had none of the fanfare of Prince William’s wedding. Perhaps this is because Sweden never ruled over an empire on the scale of the British Empire. About 1.5 billion people around the globe speak English as a second language, partly because of the global influence of the British Empire in the 19th and 20th centuries.

Many people who are members of the British Commonwealth, as well as those who are former British colonial subjects, will watch the royal wedding in earnest. After all, the Brits still know how to throw a grand party, even though the glory of the Empire has much diminished.

As someone born in the former British colony of Hong Kong, I look at the royal wedding with ambivalence. I have been a British colonial subject for a large part of my life. I remember the grandeur of parades and parties thrown when members of the royal family visited Hong Kong. But I also remember that Chinese parents sent their children to English-speaking schools so that those children could get ahead in life, something that couldn't happen if they only spoke Chinese.

My family visited England in the summer of 1996, a year before Hong Kong would return to China. That trip came to symbolize for me a bidding of farewell to the Empire.

Throughout my time in England, I was fascinated to see many things I used to see on the streets in Hong Kong during my childhood like the red telephone booths, the British red pillar post boxes, and the cart used by the street cleaners. When I saw a little yellow Mini parked on a London street, I had to have my picture taken with it because it resembled the car that Mr. Bean (the lead character of my favorite British comedy) drove.

The majority of Asian Protestant feminist theologians are Methodist or Presbyterian, because these denominations are very strong in Asia. I am an exception among them because I belong to the Church of England. Since I have been working on postcolonial theology, many friends have asked me how I became Anglican, since my parents were not Christian. My answer is that my family's landlord when I was young took my elder sister and me to church, and he happened to be an Anglican.

During my college years in the 1970s, students took to the street to demand Chinese as one of the official languages of Hong Kong and to protest against government corruption. I was exposed to liberation theology and various kinds of Asian contextual theologies. C. S. Song, a well-known Taiwanese theologian, came to my college and lectured about developing theology with Asian resources.

But it was through postcolonial studies that I gained critical insights into the arduous process of decolonization of the mind and its implications for theology. Christian theology has been developed in the backdrop of the Roman Empire and many subsequent empires. In our Anglican tradition, the imperial context invariably left its marks in our structure and liturgy.

The Church of England is the officially established Christian Church in England. The Anglican liturgy includes praying for the British monarch. The authorized version of the Bible was commissioned by King James I, who wanted to ensure that the new version would conform to the ecclesiology and reflect the episcopal structure of the Church of England. This year is the 400th anniversary of the King James Bible.

Colonial nostalgia runs deep in the Anglican Communion today. Although many colonies in Asia, Africa, Latin America, the Middle East, and the Pacific have become independent politically, we have yet to work out the cultural logic and church structure for a truly postcolonial church. Many of the debates surrounding sexuality in the Communion, for example, can be traced to earlier debates on sexuality in colonial times.

As I watched the royal wedding officiated by Archbishop Rowan Williams, I thought of the myriad connections between the Anglican Church, the British monarchy, and colonialism. I want to recommit myself to building a Church that goes beyond our colonial legacy and that truly reflects the beauty and diversity of all God’s peoples.

* Kwok Pui-lan is William F. Cole Professor of Christian Theology and Spirituality at the Episcopal Divinity School. She is the editor of Hope Abundant: Third World and Indigenous Women’s Theology (Orbis Books, 2010).

Churches that commune

By Brett Donham

Winston Churchill once said, “Initially we shape our buildings and then, thereafter, they shape us.” This is never truer than with our places of worship. By and large, these buildings, as beautiful as they can be, frustrate the purpose for which they were built, or the purpose for which they should have been built. They can stifle the formation of fully engaged Christians.

Today, in many places, church buildings are being built and existing ones remodeled to serve a new model of “church” (the people gathered), that harks back to the early days of Christianity. In these places people gather in community to offer praise and thanksgiving, to reflect on scripture, to share stories about Jesus Christ and his impact on their lives, to share a commemorative meal, and through this to come into communion with Christ, and with one another. These are communal activities, with many players, several centers of action and movement, and require the ability to see one another and feel as a gathered body.

The traditional forms of church buildings, with everyone facing in the same direction and with the “expert”; the intermediary or interpreter, on a raised stage addressing an audience is the antithesis of gathering in community. The ministry of all the baptized, the gift of the Holy Spirit that says we all have something to contribute, has no acknowledged place in this style of church building. Church as a spectator activity doesn’t engage people in the ongoing work of formation. Only buildings that encourage a sense of community and participation can create the apostles necessary to invigorate the Church.

One such church building is St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Brookline, Massachusetts. Originally designed by Richard Upjohn at the high point of the Oxford Movement, that sees the Holy as dark, mysterious and unapproachable; the building was reconstructed after a disastrous fire that left only the four walls and the tower standing. [See the 1849 plan].
1849 Plan
After two years of mourning, reflection, planning and discernment, the building was reconstructed in a centralized form. The former chancel was closed off to make a chapel. The altar which had been set against the east wall was moved a third of the way into the space. Dormers were added to the roof to flood the altar area with natural light, and the seating was wrapped around the altar on three sides with the choir seated on the fourth. [See the new plan].

New Plan

All the congregants are in close relationship to the altar area and members easily come forward to read scripture, assist with Communion and healing prayer, and offer announcements of mission opportunities and parish activities. Intercessory prayer is offered from the seated congregation, but because of the close seating arrangement, all can hear them. The altar, which is movable, sits on a platform around which the congregation gathers for Communion. As worshippers leave the circle to return to their chairs, others take their place. The priest and chalice bearer move around the platform, serving the bread and the wine, until all have received.


My last eight years as a trustee of Episcopal Divinity School, interacting with students and faculty, participating in worship and the classroom, have taught me the centrality of community in forming apostles and faithful people. I believe we need to rediscover our first century roots. Our theology demands it; the future of the Church demands it; creating the Kingdom here on earth demands it. Our designs of spaces for worship need to support it.


*Brett Donham is an architect whose practice includes churches. He is a trustee of Episcopal Divinity School.
(The photo shows St. Paul's Church Brookline, MA)

What we can learn from Afro-Anglican churches

By Charles A. Wynder, Jr.

February 13 is the feast day of Absalom Jones, the first Black priest in the Episcopal Church.* This celebration of Absalom Jones’ life and ministry provides an opportunity for Black Episcopalians to reflect upon the mission, ministry, and leadership of Black congregations in the Episcopal Church. In fact, such Afro-Anglican congregations can teach the wider Episcopal Church how to relate to an increasingly diverse African Anglican Communion in the world.

Predominantly Black congregations in the Episcopal Church survive as a legacy of Absalom Jones. Much like other congregations in the Episcopal Church, these parishes face the challenges and opportunities of a changing world. They must discern their mission and ministry for the 21st century.

The Black presence in the Episcopal Church is truly Afro-Anglican. It is composed of African Americans, Afro-Caribbean, and Africans. This multicultural body of Afro-Anglicans represents a minority of congregations, clergy, and laity inside an overwhelmingly white denomination.

This body mirrors an increasing diversity within the Black community of the United States. Large cities in various parts of the country have an increasingly diverse population of people of African descent. The meaning of Blackness in the United States continues to evolve based on the multiple voices and experiences within communities of African descent. Grappling with issues of identity among diverse people can be particularly challenging. The Afro-Anglican presence in the Episcopal Church is a place for us to discern a way forward.

These congregations bring together people of different histories, cultures, languages, and ideas about governance and worship. They co-locate people with a postcolonial perspective (for example, from Africa, Central America, and the Caribbean) along with people descended from American slavery. How do these people come together to serve God and engage God’s mission?

It is not an easy proposition. It requires this diverse body of God’s people to move to a place of valuing each other. Mutual respect of the multiple histories and cultures can facilitate new understanding among the various communities within the congregations. Looking for and listening to the different voices in the congregation enhance understanding. It is in hearing the multiple voices with different accents and sounds anew that we are able engage in rich dialogue. The dialogue about the mission of God should not, however, take place in one tongue.

A house of prayer for all peoples requires us to fully solicit and embrace the full range of experience, voice, and perspective in the congregation. This process equips Afro-Anglican congregations to understand the multiple centers of power, culture, and meaning within the church. The Afro-Anglican body by definition has more than one culture and understanding of knowing and being.

Effective exercised leadership that is shared by clergy and the laity is not threatened by the multiple voices, power centers, and cultural background. Such leadership builds relationships and engages in dialogue to further understanding, peace, and reconciliation where needed. This type of relational ministry can serve to build up the capacity of congregations to look outside of themselves and embrace the surrounding communities.

Developing the inner capacity and desire to turn outward is key to engaging God’s mission. This is where the discernment of these churches must turn. What is God calling these Afro-Anglican congregations to do in the world? How can they meet the needs of the people in the neighborhood? What type of ministries must they develop to meet the needs of the people in their largely urban context?

Exploring these questions is part of the essential discernment of the vocation of a parish. To envision the mission, leadership, and ministry of Afro-Anglican parishes would be a gift to the larger Episcopal Church. Imagine the possibilities of the Afro-Anglican community in the United States guiding Episcopal Church in discerning in mission, ministry, and leadership in a diverse and largely African Anglican Communion. Let us learn from one another and grow together.

Charles A. Wynder, Jr. is a second year MDiv student at the Episcopal Divinity School.

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* Absalom Jones, the first Black priest in the Episcopal Church, participated in establishing St. Thomas African Episcopal Church in Philadelphia. The admission of St. Thomas into the Episcopal Church in 1794 and Jones’ ordination provided a semi-autonomous space and place for Black Episcopalians.