You Go, Girl!

Today the Episcopal Church elected Katharine Jefferts Schori presiding bishop, which is the highest post in the U.S. Episcopal Church, which is the American arm of the worldwide Anglican Communion. (AP article; NY Times.) This is hugely courageous, and it makes me very proud of the church I was raised in.

You see, it's not just that they were the first branch of the Anglican Communion to elect a female leader: it's that it was done in an extremely hostile environment, at a time when the Episcopal Church has been put to the test. Many Anglican churches don't ordain women; some that ordain women have not yet elevated one to bishop. More critically, three years ago the American church elected an openly gay bishop, which has led to censure by more conservative branches of the worldwide church and conservative congregations in the U.S., and the threat of schism. The Episcopal Church was asked by the worldwide body to declare a moratorium on naming any other gay bishops. So far, Frank Griswold (the retiring presiding bishop, whom I know personally from his days as bishop of Chicago as a man of great integrity, a diplomat, and a supporter of the inclusion of everyone regardless of race, sex, or sexual orientation) has only said that the American church is sorry that the consecration of a gay bishop has caused such consternation, but never apologized for or stepped away from the action. Here is his statement about this election.

And the General Convention, which elected Jefferts Schori, once again stood firm. By electing a woman in a time when the American church is being urged to tread on eggshells, the majority of the church has said that when we say women are equal, we mean it. Not just some of the time, not just up to a point, not just when it won't rock the boat. All the time. Right now.

It's huge for the church . . . and it's huge for me as a woman in the church. I remember the ordination of the first woman priest in the Episcopal Church in 1976: for the first time in my life I could look up at the altar and not see the communion rail as a chromosome detector; I no longer felt like I was on the outside by being born female. There was someone who looked like me at the altar. I remember when girls didn't serve at the altar--we were supposed to be back in the sacristy out of sight learning to polish the silver and iron the linens. (As an adult, I declared I would only join the altar guild when men did. Several men in my congregation stepped up, and I kept my word. I spent many a Saturday ironing linen and polishing silver with Leroy and Jerry. For the record, they were much better at both than I ever was.) I felt that jolt of immense pride again when the first woman was consecrated bishop--a woman could not only serve as a priest, she could ordain other women. And now, my church's face, our representative to the world, is a woman.

There's a story in my collection that takes place in a future in which the church has caved and women are no longer ordained. I was at one point working on a novel in that milieu, because I feared that was our future. I am endlessly happy to be wrong.

I still have issues about clericalism in the church, but these are much less serious, and not the kind of critical issues of policy that this represents. Today I am very proud to be an Episcopalian, and I feel more included, more validated by my church than I ever have in my life.

Katharine, you go, girl. I know I'm not the only one cheering for one of our own.

The Aliens Have (Maybe) Landed

Instead of little green men, how about little red cells?

A scientist in India is positing that "red rain" that fell there contains extraterrestrial cellular matter lacking DNA, possibly bacteria adapted to interstellar conditions that was stripped from a passing comet or meteor and found its way into a rain cloud. He may be utterly wrong about this--tests are being done, but the jury's still out--but wouldn't it be cool if he's right?!

Humanoid creatures in space ships would be pretty exciting, true, but would also create a host of complications. Better we should find our way into acceptance of the existence of life elsewhere in a more gradual way. Sentient aliens are likely to spawn fear, possibly war--and at the very least misunderstanding. (Of course they would be a lot harder for the intelligent design crowd to deny.) Heck, humans have trouble understanding each other and living peacefully; I don't hold out a lot of hope for peaceful interactions with extraterrestrials, based on prior evidence.

But cells . . . not life-changing for most of us. And therefore not threatening, except ideologically, and again, mostly to those who have inflexible ideologies and who are accustomed to denying the evidence of science when it conflicts with their beliefs, so no real change for them, either. But once a generation grows up with the notion that there are cells from other places, then other life forms in other places: a natural and expected consequence. So when we finally do happen on the little green men--or whatever form they take--perhaps people will be open to the possibility, prepared for it, welcoming of it.

Hmm . . . so what if these cells were part of a master plan with that very goal?