Life As Performance Art 164

Ah...the Anglican Church. They talk so much and they do so little. That should be their official motto. When it comes to actual community engagement, especially with the homeless and economically marginalized, outside of a few community meal programs, Anglicans fall way behind other denominations. Other churches actually shelter the homeless. Anglicans? They just complain to the government. Yeah, real Christian activism. Excuse me while my stomach heaves. They are still cosseted rich people living primarily in wealthy leafy neighbourhoods and for all their pious and lovely noises about inclusivity while doing tokenism with queer and First Nations people, Anglicans still seem to prefer comfort over challenge, safety over discipleship. Pathetic. Why am I still there? I only wish I had an easy answer for that. I seem to relate best to the way they do public worship, and that's about all. And I still like most of the people (with maybe a couple of exceptions) who attend St. Faith's. Here is the email I almost sent to the archbishop and company, but I will publish it here, instead. It's titled "Consequences: As the Diocese of New Westminster has refused to offer me a just settlement or redress for the wrongs that I have suffered from some of your clergy from 1997 to the present, injuries that for a while impaired my mental health, my employability and my ability to earn a liveable income, I will not be offering any money or other material support to help subsidize the church, nor will I invite or recommend to anyone that they visit an Anglican church.  Until the decisions that have been made against my claim for justice  have been reversed, these consequences shall remain in perpetuity.  I will still attend church, and I will still report about the church in my blog and to the media in a manner that is fair, balanced and honest but not necessarily kind.  I regret that our friendship has been so badly compromised, but I do not believe that I should accept the responsibility for this.  There will  be no further need to communicate about this and until these conditions have changed, I will no longer be in touch." So, it is Sunday morning. I am probably going to attend, and go on attending. I still want to focus on building relationships with people as individuals. The politics of the beast, the way sausage is made there, are none of my business, and is going to remain none of my business. Aside from the blessing of my bodily presence on Sundays, they get nothing. Because nothing, from me anyway, is exactly what they deserve. Trust, which was slowly beginning to build, was still so fragile that it has died in me towards the archbishop, towards clergy and towards the institution. Can't be helped. Will trust ever be restored? Time will tell, but methinks not. I did get at least a verbal acknowledgment that I had been mistreated, a verbal apology and a token payout. Could have gone worse, and even if somewhat grudging, I am grateful. In other news, Gentle Reader, I am enjoying spending my Wednesday mornings working with a client living in a long term care facility near my dear old neighbourhood, Commercial Drive. I take him out for walks in the area. I am also visiting the Bosa, an Italian market across the street where I used to live in the neighbourhood. Every week I buy a cheese I have never tried before. It is an enjoyable culinary adventure, and a way of continuing to say thank you to the Bosa Ladies, the Italian women who worked there more than twenty years ago when I lived in the area, and shopped there. Knowing that I was on a tight budget, those women treated me with incredible kindness and I will never forget this. Happy Sunday!