(all excerpts are copyright 2006 by Elizabeth Adams and may not be reproduced without written permission of the author) 

 

Chapter 3: Sisterhood
From "We've Been Here Before" at The Cassandra Pages.

“People in power don’t easily give over some of that power and authority—it has to be taken,” Nancy [Wittig] stated. “I felt that for women’s ordination to succeed, it couldn’t be a matter of one bishop and one woman. That had been the beginning of the end for [Bishop] Pike—the church pursued him and tried him for heresy—and I am convinced to this day that it was really over the ordination of Phyllis Edwards as a deacon. So the lesson to be learned from that was ‘don’t do anything by yourself, work as a community.’” (more)

  

Chapter 10: Centering
The entire chapter is available as a free download from the publisher

“I knew what it was right away,” said Paula Bibber. “I was the only one who handled the letter: I opened it, and I bagged it—and then I only let the bishop look at it, because I didn’t want to let anyone else get their fingerprints on it. So I had a little experience with the police department. They were kind enough to come here to fingerprint me, as opposed to having me go down to their office”...

...The hate mail was taken seriously from the beginning but, perhaps because this was New Hampshire, unused to hate crime and still a little slow to grasp just how big a tidal wave was being created by the ripple in their small pond, the idea that anyone would truly want to harm, or even kill, their bishop-elect to prevent his consecration seemed astounding...

 

from Chapter 12: Consecration 

Up in the Sky Lounge, about thirty bishops had already gathered, with more arriving each time the spacious, private elevator opened. New Hampshire’s Douglas Theuner was the charismatic host, greeting his colleagues with his booming voice and enveloping them in a warm embrace. Rather than a closed-club atmosphere, there was a sense of collegiality, camaraderie, and closeness that was generous and kind. The air was rarified, nevertheless: thick with purple shirts and gold pectoral crosses on heavy chains.

An acrid smell of hot wax burned in the air. Two sheepskins with elaborate calligraphy, one bordered by heavy purple grosgrain ribbon, were spread out on tables. Two pots of hot red wax melted in little burners, stirred by a monk. Informally, one by one, the bishops approached the table and signed the sheepskins that officially recorded the consecration of Gene Robinson “as a Bishop in the One True Church of God.” Then they removed their gold signet rings, licked the surface, and as the monk placed a glob of hot wax on the purple ribbon, pressed the signet seal onto the wax. With each signature, the fate of the Anglican Communion grew more uncertain. It was a strange and powerful moment—a medieval ritual that at the same time propelled the Church into a future many did not want to acknowledge. Yet, in this room, there was no hesitation. The signatures were made, the signets pressed firmly, decisively—but not arrogantly. The mood was convivial, but determined. The decisions had already been made; this day they were being set into history.

Again the elevator door opened, but instead of announcing the arrival of another bishop, dignified in black and purple with white and crimson robes folded over his or her arm, this time it disgorged a teeming mass of security people and a television crew, armed with microphones on a tall boom and a large video camera. In the center was a small white-robed figure: the bishop-elect himself. The media crew scrambled to follow Gene as he enthusiastically greeted old friends among the four dozen bishops now gathered in the room. Emotionally, he acknowledged the colleagues who had come to support his consecration; at one moment showing his bullet-proof vest to Barbara Harris, who herself had had to wear one at her own consecration, in the next turning to greet the retired Bishop of New Hampshire, Philip Smith, who would be giving him his own ring to wear...

Finally, Gene separated from the media crew, and went over to the table where the finished sheepskins lay, bearing the seals and long list of signatures. He became silent and still, and, for a moment, was alone with his thoughts.


from Chapter 16: Accepting the Mantle

What is the purpose of religion?This is a crucial question facing the church of the future, as well as its corollary, “what do people hope to find there—and is the church equipped to help them find it?”

Gene reflected on those questions one afternoon in the conference room at Diocesan House. The winter was just ending, and the spring light filtered through the lilac branches outside the window and stretched across the dark mahogany table. Above the fireplace stood a set of colorful hand-drawn cards sent to the bishop by school children, and on the wall nearby was the large parchment from his consecration, bearing the signatures and seals of the forty-eight bishops who had been present. Gene crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back from the table. “They’re two kinds of people, I think: those who see the purpose of religion as being liberation and joy, and those who see it as the only thing that is keeping the lid on. For some people, religion is all about right thinking and rules of behavior that, when followed, keep us in some sort of civil place. They feel that without those rules, we would be—God knows what.  But it would be bad.  So it’s all about keeping uncontrollable desires in control, keeping the lid on, keeping the closet door shut, keeping Pandora’s Box closed. That the human spirit is this wild and snarling animal, just ready to pounce if you take your eye off it one minute.” 

“Which is just a wholly different place than ‘Look at the gifts God gives us!’” His eyes lit up as he leaned forward, opening his hands. “Look what is possible if we open that up and let those gifts be free and responsive to the world around us.  If we could learn to love ourselves just partially as much as God loves us, what kind of creative energies would be released? It’s about the Exodus story, about being in slavery, and then being called out to this Promised Land; it’s all this incredibly hopeful stuff, as opposed to—going back to my growing-up and that kind of evangelical thing—that kind of white-knuckle existence to see if you could make it to the finish line without screwing up and going to Hell.”