Jeffrey Steenson, [this week] explained to the US bishops why he is to be received into the Roman Catholic Church. He leaves an Episcopal Church in disarray, led no longer by a ‘house’ but by a ‘community’ of bishops, with a songbook of praise to Mother Earth, Sister Moon and Brother Sun.
Here’s the story (thanks to an e-tip from tmatt).
In an earlier letter to the bishops, the 55-year-old Bishop Steenson, who has headed the diocese based in Albuquerque, N.M., since January 2005, said his “conscience is deeply troubled about where the Episcopal Church is heading, and this has become a crisis for me because of my ordination vow to uphold its doctrine, discipline and worship.” Source
For the life of me, other than the big buck salaries, high media profile, and fabu pension plan …
Wait. Hmmm. Well, okay then. When put that way I guess I can understand how these men are still found hanging out in the morass that passes as Anglicanism in this country.
The General Convention of 1991 in Phoenix was my one and only foray into Pagan worship. Oh sure, I’d read New Age stuff when I was in college — and who’s not attracted to a bit of wackiness from time to time?
But the Convention in ’91 opened with American Indians “blessing” the altar in full traditional dress and ritual (feathers, moccasins, whooping, etc). They did this by invoking Father Sky and Mother Earth.
I kid you not.
No offense to the Native Americans! Hey, they were just doing their thing (an unofficial Episcopalian
And, adding insult to
injury heresy, there was even a “Cafe Style Eucharist” held later in the week. I skipped out — thanks God! — on that one. This was where there was a main celebrant of the Mass down on the stage in the round … and worshippers attendees were seated around tables scattered throughout the convention center. There were multiple clergy at each table when suddenly, like a Jack-n-the-Box, up would pop a surprise Celebrant for each table (male or female, believer or not-so-much) and “zap” the gifts (the pottery chalice of wine and the bread) found on each table — from which those around that particular table would commune.
Again, I kid you not.
So while I commend the good bishop for taking a stand, and can only wish him well in Rome, I do scratch my head and ofttimes wonder …
After so many moons have passed …