I've had it.
Just had it.
I am a man of faith, and I find . . . well,
found . . . that expression in Anglicanism. I was young and stupid.
The Church?
No such thing. Just another club. Another institution. Prophetic as a dead snail, compassionate as a falling girder, as just as a Board of Directors.
It's dead.
Now, I can't give up the people in my parish - well, I should get used to saying my Church - because they are family and, being human, I'm too close to throw them off (though TEC and the AC would have no such problem).
I had held out hope for Christianity, as long as there was one reasonably prophetic and Spirit-led denomination. I know there is not. It's mere realpolitik, self-promotion, good p. r., and greasing of wheels . . . and palms.
The last week or two, I've seen:
More attacks on those who thoughtfully opposed Thew-Forrester
The continued silence of Canterbury on barbaric laws in Uganda
The reply from the PB's office that politics made speaking out dangerous
A lickspittle little dance from Canterbury being praised as great theology, and those who disagree being dismissed as unthinking.
Run to Rome, run to Constantinople, run to the Baptists, Pentecostals, UCC, MCC, but there's no salvation.
I know there's a God, but He ain't here.
We'll talk about society, politics, whatever from now on, but not Church. . .
. . because there
isn't one.
Jesus has left the building.