Good morning!

I am both humbled and honoured to have been asked to speak with you this morning at this, our annual celebration of Pride Day here at St. John's. I hope that all feel welcome to share in our celebration, as we display our rainbow colours. I would like to extend a particular welcome to all who are visiting. Bienvenue parmi nous. Please feel welcome to join us at our table of fellowship, sharing with us the bread and wine as we celebrate the Lord's Day. Nous espérons que vous reveniez nous voir avant longtemps!

Sharon has just read to us one of the most memorable of Jesus' stories from St. Luke's version of the Gospel. I will return to this particular story in a few minutes. For the meantime, let us recall, as Sharon has previously explained, that this part of St. Luke's gospel is referred to as "the journey narrative". A few weeks ago, we read how Jesus "set his face to Jerusalem", leaving the familiarity and security of his home province of Galilee, to face the challenge of the unknown, and ultimately, his destiny.

It is an appropriate reading for this Sunday. I have been asked to share with you this morning some of my reflections as a member of the General Synod of the Anglican Church of Canada, which met in St. Catherine's just over a month ago.

For many in the Anglican Church, both here in Canada and abroad, these are fearsome times. We have been called to leave the security of the familiar, to set off to confront new realities, new challenges, new questions. None of us know our ultimate destination; or even whether we might not turn on our heels to head back whence we came.

As for myself, my trip to St. Catherine's was an important part of my personal pilgrimage, one which has led to a deeper understanding and appreciation of what it means to be "the Church".

It is not my intention to present a formal report to you this morning; nor to give you an informal "blow-by-blow" description of what there transpired. We will have other opportunities, both formal and informal, to do so.

Nevertheless, I realize I would not be forgiven if I did not address this morning the most controversial issue we faced, namely, the blessing of same-sex unions.

General Synod was asked to consider a five-part resolution on this issue. Controversy swirled around the second clause of this motion, which read:, "That this General Synod affirm the authority and jurisdiction of any diocesan synod, with the concurrence of its bishop, to authorize the blessing of committed same-sex unions."

I will leave it to you to judge the merits of this particular proposal. To its proponents, it was a way out of an impasse. To its detractors, is was the admission of an impasse - that the national church was so hopelessly divided on the issue that it would take no action, but refer the whole issue to a different jurisdiction. I would add that it was a purely procedural motion; it said nothing, positive or negative, about same-sex unions themselves.

For its opponents, however, the issue was of a different order altogether; within minutes of the allotted six hours of debate, the opinion of the lawyers was sought. Was this, or was this not, a question of church "doctrine"?

Almost immediately, everything got muddled. The chancellors (or legal specialists) were unable to agree. I don't wish to bore you with detailed procedural points, but if the motion concerned doctrine, a different voting procedure would be required. Moreover, the question would have to be put to two consecutive meetings of General Synod (which meets only every three years).

So it happened that a notice of motion was distributed on the morning before the scheduled vote, in the name of the chancellor of the Diocese of Toronto, that this clause be deferred until the next meeting of General Synod in the year 2007, and that it be replaced by one calling on the Primate's Theological Commission to render an opinion in 2006 on whether this was, or was not, a question of church "doctrine".

This motion ultimately passed, in a close, standing vote. Tears were shed by many, both in the plenary hall, and in private corners in adjoining corridors.

As disappointed as I was by this outcome, I would alert you to the following. Although I sensed that the original motion would have been approved by the order of clergy and laity, voting together, I have no way of assessing the reaction of the order of bishops. A majority in both orders was required. Had the question been put, and defeated, there would have been disruptive consequences, notably in the Diocese of New Westminster which currently has approved such blessings. Instead, following the vote, our newly elected Primate, Archbishop Andrew Hutchison, reminded national news media that the status quo ante prevails, that there is nothing to prevent individual bishops or dioceses from proceeding as they deem fit.

Few in the plenary hall at that moment, however, were thinking of these finer points of church polity. The disappointment, particularly among the lay members, was palpable. We had come to St. Catherine's, whatever our position, ready to express our view, and most of us felt thwarted. Clergy and the bishops, to their praise, responded to this distress.

I am glad that I will not this morning be able to embarrass our own parish priest, the Rev. Canon Garth Bulmer, by what I am about to say. He is on vacation. But I must share with you my admiration for both his enormous courage during this debate, and his sensitivity in reading the mood of General Synod.

Garth had also distributed a notice of motion, calling on General Synod "to affirm the integrity and sanctity of committed adult same-sex relationships". Debate commenced immediately following the previous vote (and after most national news media had left the premises), and resumed the next morning. Everyone had the chance to sleep on the question, to discuss it and to pray on it overnight.

The mood of General Synod became clear very quickly. It wished to make a strong statement to the gay and lesbian community. An amendment to fudge the word "sanctity" was quickly defeated. When the question was put, it easily passed in both the order of clergy and laity, and in the order of bishops. No standing vote was needed.

I know that Garth has taken a lot of heat over this. The statement is unprecedented - it is the very first time the Anglican Church of Canada has affirmed same-sex relationships. Many faithful members of the church are opposed; some are outraged.

Many of these people claim that the Church cannot affirm anything that is not explicitly affirmed in Scripture. Some have told me that the issue of same-sex blessings calls into question the very authority of Scripture.

With this in mind, I would like to return to this morning's reading from the Gospel. In this story, once again, the lawyers are at play! When discussing the path to eternal life, the young lawyer, understandably, quotes the Hebrew Law. He begins with the Shema, the great declaration of faith of the Jewish people from the book of Deuteronomy: "Hear, O Israel: the Lord is our God, the Lord alone. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might." Then he adds, from the book of Leviticus, "you shall love your neighbour as yourself."

Jesus affirms these statements, but then the story takes a remarkable turn. Jesus defines "neighbour" in a way that was unprecedented in Hebrew scripture or tradition!

We are so familiar with this story of the "Good Samaritan" that we are sometimes inclined to equate "Samaritan" with "good". This is not the case! In Jesus' day, foreigners may have been mistrusted, but among the Hebrews, the Samaritans were detested. They were, the Bible tells us, of mixed race, or "half-breeds". They were "liturgically incorrect", offering burnt sacrifice not in Jerusalem, but at their own hilltop shrines. Moreover, they were idolaters, worshiping pagan deities alongside Yahweh, the god of the Hebrews, the god to whom we Christians pledge our faith.

The Samaritans were, in other words, heretics and apostates.

Sadly, words like "heretic", "apostate" and "idolater" have been flung around all too frequently in our debate within the church about same-sex relationships. What did Jesus have to say about such things? Frankly, he would have none of it. He compared the actions of the "heretical" Samaritan with those of the priest and the Levite, who rigorously followed the Law and the scripture, and upheld the traditions of the Hebrew people. Fearing defilement by touching a dying man, something prohibited by Hebrew scripture, they did nothing to help the stranger, but simply passed by. It was the Samaritan, because of his ministry to this unnamed victim of violence, whom Jesus affirms as the one on the path to salvation.

What does this tell us about God's will for us concerning homosexuality, marriage, blessings, and same-sex relationships? On these specific issues, it tells us very little. It does suggest, however , that any claim we might have to righteousness by strictly adhering to time-honoured tradition or from strictly following scripture are outweighed by the ways in which we minister to each other.

It also says a great deal, I think, about the "authority of Scripture" for Christian people. Jesus, during his ministry in the ancient Roman provinces of Galilee, Judea and, yes, Samaria, consistently upheld the religious laws and traditions of his people. And yet, at the same time, he no less consistently confronted and named injustice wherever he encountered it. In fact, his sharpest invective was against those who neglected the needs of others because of tradition or religiosity.

This is a fundamental feature of the Gospel, of Christian Scripture. There is a "dynamic tension" between these two threads. God's Law is held up as the source of justice as righteousness, at the same time as Jesus and his followers insist that justice and righteousness cannot be found in blind subservience to the Law. To this fundamental principle, Jesus stakes everything, until his human journey's end which, as St. Luke reminds us, came on a desolate hill outside the Holy City of Jerusalem.

It was such fervent calls to justice that I will treasure the most from my eight days at General Synod. No one present will ever forget Stephen Lewis' passionate pleas for the people of Africa, facing the innumerable tragedies and devestation of the HIV/AIDS pandemic, and the history of indifference from leaders both secular and religious. Nor am I likely to forget the Cree elder from the Diocese of Keewatin, a survivor of the residential school system, who has become an outspoken advocate for the air and water resources of her corner of northern Ontario. Another woman from Toronto was a passionate advocate for the victims of the weapons of war. A young priest engaged me in vigorous, and always respectful discussions about God's gifts of sex and sexuality, and our responsibility to be faithful stewards of such gifts.

Most of all, it was impressed upon me, during my eight days in St. Catherine's, that our world is a very messy place. Injustice abounds. Uncertainty and fear are widespread.

Despite this reality, we are called to be Christ's church. We place our faith in the Gospel, in the Good News. But what does this mean?

Returning from St. Catherine's, I am certain only of this. We are called, all of us, to witness. Neither I, nor any of you, can ever claim to know God. I cannot claim to know God's will for a brother or sister, barely being able to discern what God's will is for myself. I cannot claim to know, or to judge, another's experience of God. I can only claim to know that sometimes glorious, sometimes messy place where my experience of Scripture and of faith intersect with my experience of life. It is to this experience that I am called to witness, and to share.

I have become increasingly aware that it is only through such sharing, and through intense and respectful listening to each other, that we might be able to discern, to glimpse God's will for us as the Church.

It is in this spirit that I would like to close by sharing again the prayer of Saints Paul and Timothy to that early community of believers in Colosse: "May you be filled with the knowledge of God's will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so that you may lead lives worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, as you bear fruit in every good work and as you grow in the knowledge of God. May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light." This is my prayer for us all.

Amen.