A lesbian bishop for the Episcopal Church

This Saturday, the Episcopal Diocese of Los Angeles elected the Rev. Mary Glasspool, a lesbian, as assistant bishop. Rev. Glasspool, if approved by a majority of dioceses in the church, would then become the second openly gay bishop in the Episcopal Church. (The first openly gay bishop, V. Gene Robinson, was elected in 2003.)

This is a big, big deal. The Archbishop of Canterbury (the leader of the Anglican Communion, which the Episcopal Church is part of) has already expressed his disapproval.

I don’t really know much about the politics of the Episcopal Church, except that they’re complicated. I grew up as an Episcopalian, and went to church enough that I knew how to sing the doxology and when to stand up and when to sit down during the service. I even went to Sunday School a few times.

From what I have been told, the Chinese part of my family became Episcopalians in the early 20th century (or maybe late 19th?), probably due to the work of missionaries. I grew up knowing that my paternal (Chinese) grandfather had almost become an Episcopal priest, but ultimately decided to become a psychologist. The English part of my family was Episcopalian because the Episcopal Church is the American branch of the Anglican Church.

It’s not that my family was super religious or anything, but religion was there, and I always had a healthy respect for — and wonder about — God and Christianity. That interest never faded, though sometimes it burned brighter than others. I’ve always been very curious about the things that religion speaks to: the meaning of life, and what comes after death. This is probably why I write the things I write today.

Several years ago — about the time I began writing Ash — I was going through a very difficult time in my personal life. I began to attend church again. This time, I went to a Lutheran church, St. Francis, on Church Street in the Castro District of San Francisco. It was a very gay church.

I hadn’t grown up Lutheran, but many of the rituals they did echoed the ones I had grown up with. It was comforting. But going to church more regularly also made me realize that I did not believe in Christ as our savior. It was kind of a shocking realization, actually, but not because I felt alone in the world. It was shocking because it made me feel so calm. Like I had always suspected that I believed this, but had never truly allowed myself to admit it.

At the same time, I was reading a lot about Taoism and Buddhism. As I moved away from Christianity, I moved toward Buddhism. At first I was reluctant to put much stock in Buddhism; even as I drew inspiration from Buddhist teachings, I found myself wondering if I were just buying into some kind of fake New Age spirituality. After all, I was in California — practically everybody does yoga and “meditates.”

But as I learned more about Buddhism, I realized that it did for me what Christianity had never done. It showed me, concretely, the way that we are all connected. This was truly a profound realization for me, because I had always felt so isolated. (And obviously, Buddhism is no flash-in-the-pan, newly invented cult. It’s been around for quite a while.)

My Buddhist practice waxes and wanes these days. Travel makes it difficult to meditate daily. And lately, I’ve had some difficulty finding a spiritual community that I feel comfortable in. But all of these experiences are part of being a Buddhist.

I imagine they’re part of being a Christian, too. And though I no longer consider myself an Episcopalian, I am truly heartened by the election of Rev. Mary Glasspool. I am so proud that this church, in particular, is making room for people like me.

I hope she is affirmed.

Related posts:

1. On this inauguration day, “bless us with patience”

Tagged as: LGBT rights, religion