The Meaning of Life 101

A new year has begun at America's 3,500 or so institutions of higher learning, which means it's time for yet another cycle of news about alcohol, sex, suicide and cheating.

As dean of the Duke University chapel, theologian William Willimon has heard more than his share of sobering statistics and angry debates about who is to blame. Instead of going around in old circles, he thinks it would be good if more educators had to sit down with students - sharing books or coffee or maybe both - and work on some big question of mutual concern.

Here's a good one: What is the meaning of life?

"The fact that many people are scared to ask that kind of question says a lot about the state of higher education," said Willimon. "People are afraid that it might lead to discussions of good and evil, of right and wrong, and we're not supposed to do that. But we need to be honest and admit there is no such thing as value-neutral education. We are teaching our students some kind of values, whether we want to or not."

So here's another good question: What is the meaning of meaninglessness?

At that point, students and teachers might find themselves talking about binge drinking, date rape, eating disorders, careerism and a legion of other issues. Willimon believes it's time for teachers to realize students need input from their elders - before it's too late.

"How can we be neutral on the role that alcohol plays on campuses?", he said. "How many people are going to have to fall off of fire escapes and die before we take this seriously? Somewhere along the line we lost our nerve, when it comes to talking about the things that matter the most."

Willimon is speaking from experience. Back in early 1990s, the theologian teamed with economist Thomas Naylor to create a freshman seminar called "The Search for Meaning." For starters, students had to write short papers about their lives. The results from a 1994 class were pretty typical. Seven of the 16 students said the event that most shaped them was their parents' divorce. Only one of the papers included any other reference to having had a father.

When it comes to meaningful relationships with adults, many students may as well be orphans, concluded Willimon and Naylor, in their book "The Abandoned Generation: Rethinking Higher Education." The irony is that most live on campuses led by adults who, when they were students, attacked "in loco parentis" policies in which the college played a protective, parental role. Thus, most educators now use what Calvinist philosopher David Hoekema has called the "non sum mater tua (I am not your mama)" approach.

Willimon and Naylor don't mince words about the result: "We have failed to teach an ethic of concern. We have created a culture characterized by dysfunctional families, mass schooling that demands only minimal effort and media idols subliminally teaching disrespect for authority and wisdom. It is as if there were a conspiracy of parents and educators to deliberately ruin our children."

But it's too late, especially on secular campuses, for "in loco parentis." Instead, they suggest an "in loco amicis" approach, in which faculty dare to play the role of wise, experienced friends. At the very least, the advertising slogan "Friends don't let friends drive drunk" could be applied to sexual promiscuity, cheating, drug abuse and other moral issues.

This would require teachers to spend more time with students in and out of the classroom, requiring changes in academic policies that stress research, over teaching. Colleges may need to find alternatives to massive dormitories that depress and depersonalize students. Administrators will have to confront painful problems instead of hiding behind public-relations officers.

Parents and religious leaders also need to realize that today's campuses are even more risky - to body, mind and spirit - than those they knew, said Willimon.

"The average campus is not a benign or neutral environment," he said. "Sometimes the paganism comes in bottles. Sometimes it comes in books. But there's no denying that it's out there. Somebody or something is going to mold these students, one way or another."

Clinton & that loaded word 'sin'

Caught in a web of news and rumors about sex games so sordid that journalists declined to report many details, the big man decided he had to speak.

"I do not plan to whitewash my sin," he said. "I take the blame. I take the fall."

The key word was "sin," when the Rev. Jimmy Swaggart set the standard for media confessions a decade ago. For 30 tear-drenched minutes he confessed sins against God, his wife, his children and his church. He even commended journalists for reporting his sins. Finally, he faced the camera and said: "I sinned against you. I beg you to forgive me."

Swaggart knew his followers needed him to repent, before they could forgive him. President Clinton is stuck with a more mysterious and divided flock. For a generation, America has been torn by culture wars over the moral status of sex outside of marriage -- affecting issues from abortion to the legal status of same-sex and live-in relationships.

The bottom line: It's hard to repent of sexual sins in your personal life when, in your political life, you're in charge of defending the sexual revolution. On sexual issues, it would be hard for Clinton to embrace the word "sin" without being accused of political blasphemy by the lifestyle left. Meanwhile, the government's sexual harassment laws are more morally conservative than the doctrines being proclaimed by some churches.

It was easy to detect these religious tensions after the president said his inappropriate relationship with intern Monica Lewinsky is now a private matter "between me, the two people I love the most and our God." Here's a sample of reactions.

* While her father, the Rev. Billy Graham, has remained politely silent, writer Anne Graham Lotz said the president "has no moral character." She was just as appalled by the public's reaction. "When I drove to this studio this morning, I had to obey all the traffic laws, the markings on the street. I couldn't crash through a red light," she told Fox News. "God's moral laws are like those traffic markings. They're for our benefit." The president, she said, is a reckless driver and "he's going to hurt himself and a lot of others, and the American people seem to stand by and cheer him on."

* The dean of Washington National (Episcopal) Cathedral praised Clinton for his efforts on behalf of women, minorities and homosexuals. But the Rev. Nathan Baxter added, in a Sunday sermon: "Our desire to keep sin private is a judgment upon all of us. Unless we acknowledge moral failing - without excuse - the soul of our nation will not heal. More importantly, our children will be even more confused as to whether the truest treasure of our common life is found in the state of the economy or the character of our moral integrity."

* As always, Clinton and other Southern Baptists have been free to disagree. The denomination's spokesman on social issues called for Clinton's resignation and suggested that former President Jimmy Carter, a Southern Baptist, be asked to serve as vice president under Southern Baptist Al Gore. "Bill Clinton looked the American people in the eye and lied to them for seven months, then refused to apologize. And there is probably worse news to come," the Rev. Richard Land told Baptist Press.

Meanwhile, a Baptist Alliance leader tried to walk a fine line, speaking to the "moderate" Associated Baptist Press. "Let's don't define morality so narrowly that only personal concerns count and at the same time let's not define morality so broadly that personal moral concerns don't count," said the Rev. C. Welton Gaddy, author of the book "Adultery and Grace."

* The president remains a Southern Baptist, but he now worships at Foundry United Methodist, his wife's church and a center for progressives. Shortly before Clinton spoke, Foundry's pastor appeared on CNN and compared him with a troubled biblical leader. "King David did something that was much worse than anything that President Clinton is alleged to have done," said the Rev. J. Philip Wogaman, referring to David's plot to kill his lover's husband. "And King David, if I read my Bible correctly, was not impeached."

Lambeth II -- The threat of new missionaries

The Rt. Rev. Richard Holloway was so upset he did something sophisticated church leaders rarely do - he said precisely what was on his mind.

The Anglican primate of Scotland told reporters he felt "lynched," "gutted" and "shafted" when Anglican bishops assembled at Canterbury strongly affirmed centuries of doctrine that sex outside of marriage is sin. This was a stunning blow for bishops who support gay rights in pulpits and pews. Thus, Holloway lashed out at the Africans and Asians who dominated the vote.

"We tried to understand that they live in Islamic countries and therefore Islamify Christianity, making it more severe, Protestant and legalistic," he said.

Holloway could not have tossed a more infuriating verbal grenade at the African and Asian bishops, many of whose families and flocks had been torn in bitter conflicts in the Sudan, Uganda, Pakistan, Indonesia and elsewhere. But he didn't stop there, as he addressed the major role that Two-Thirds World bishops are beginning to play in Anglican affairs. They must learn to use reason, he said, not just simple displays of authority, if they want to change minds in "northern Atlantic" and other "post-traditionalist" societies.

Perhaps the Africans and Asians weren't to blame. Perhaps they were manipulated by American conservatives who wooed them with free barbecues, strategic advice and technological support throughout the 13th Lambeth Conference, a once-a-decade gathering that ended on Aug. 9. Holloway wasn't alone in suggesting many had been swayed by "chicken dinners."

Archbishop Emmanuel Kolini of Rwanda wasn't amused at the charge. "We have chicken back home in Africa, you know," he told the Christian Challenge. "Only one thing bought me and still buys me, and that's the cross and nothing else."

Actually, lobbyists on both sides worked overtime. The left said conservatives waved money at bishops from lands that desperately lack resources. Activists on the right said many in the Anglican establishment were poised to cut mission grants to bishops who rejected the ordination of women and other modernization efforts.

Meanwhile, conservative groups did share a high-tech headquarters. While they cornered bishops during dinners and seminars at the Franciscan Centre, progressives pushed the gay- rights cause during open-bar sessions at Canterbury's Bishop's Finger pub. Also, the First World enjoyed its usual advantage in the Lambeth staff offices. As Lambeth veterans say -- Americans pay, Africans pray and the British write the resolutions.

It's reasonable for the left to feel threatened, right now. Africans and Asians are considering traveling to the First World as missionaries, to pray at altars supposedly under the jurisdiction of other bishops. Thus, Anglicanism's old guard won a key victory when the Lambeth conference voted, in its final business session, to urge bishops not to invade each other's dioceses. The resolution urged primates to remind bishops in their provinces not to "exercise episcopal or pastoral ministry within another diocese without first obtaining the permission ... of the ecclesiastical authority thereof."

This was part of an effort to convince Bishop John Rucyahana of Shyira, Rwanda, to cancel an upcoming visit to one of his missions - the newborn St. Andrews Church in Little Rock, Ark. Shortly after the diocesan-borders resolution passed, Rucyahana said he would take the vote seriously. However, he also said, "we must defend the Bible and the doctrines of our church, above all else. We will find some kind of strategy to do this."

Early this week, Father Thomas Johnston said he has been assured his African bishop will visit his flock in Little Rock on Sept. 20, whether Arkansas Bishop Larry Maze and U.S. Presiding Bishop Frank Tracy Griswold III want him to or not. Ironically, Newark Bishop Jack Spong -- who recently rejected theism, the resurrection and other basic Christian doctrines -- will be in town, with Maze's blessing, on the same weekend.

"So we will have two episcopal visitors in Little Rock," noted Johnston. "Bishop John will represent the clear direction set by the Anglican Communion, as expressed at Canterbury. Bishop Spong represents a 180-degree turn away from Lambeth. ... We couldn't ask for a more symbolic pair of visitors, now could we?"

Lambeth: Doctrine and diversity

CANTERBURY - As television crews zoomed in, a Nigerian bishop and a British gay-rights activist demonstrated why it's so hard to operate a totally inclusive church.

Facing demonstrators at the 13th global Lambeth Conference, Anglican Bishop Emmanuel Chukwuma urgently offered prayers of healing for Richard Kirker of the Lesbian and Gay Christian Movement. Kirker insisted he did not need to repent, since God had made him gay. In a gesture as old as the apostles, the Nigerian tried to place a hand on Kirker's head to pray for him. The gay-rights leader caught the bishop's hand and held it aloft, their black and white fingers intertwined in a grip that was not a symbol of unity.

"Jesus will deliver you!" shouted the bishop.

Tensions were high last week, as Anglican bishops debated and then passed a resolution saying that sex outside of marriage, including gay sex, is "incompatible with scripture" and urging a ban on same-sex unions and the ordination of non-celibate homosexuals.

There were two ways to look at this once-a-decade gathering that brought nearly 750 bishops to Canterbury, Anglicanism's symbolic heart. Leaders of a powerful new conservative coalition, mostly Africans, Asians and a few bishops from England and America, were convinced they had prevented a global schism. Leaders of the Anglican establishment were stunned, yet left comforted by the knowledge that Lambeth votes are advisory. The vote on the pivotal resolution on marriage and sex was 526 in favor, with 70 opposed and 45 abstentions.

Tensions between the First World churches and those in the rapidly growing Two-Thirds World -- especially between Americans and Africans -- touched almost every event here.

The Americans portrayed themselves as leaders of a living church, one evolving to minister to the modern world. The Africans, they whispered, represent the past -- a church chained to traditional views of creeds and scriptures. The Africans said it is their church that is alive, bringing waves of believers into jam-packed sanctuaries. Trendy Americans, they suggested, are married to the present.

In the final Eucharist, Archbishop of Canterbury George Carey stated the obvious.

"We know what it is to move from a diversity which can be delighted in and celebrated, so something quite different: a differing from each other which gathers heat and turns into a very painful dispute," said Carey, an evangelical who backed traditional teachings on sex. "It is so easy to demonize one another when that happens and to part company in the family."

Africans and Asians stressed that they welcome diversity, especially in culture, worship and church leadership. But they clearly consider diversity a bad word, when applied to basic doctrinal issues - such as biblical authority, the resurrection or defining the Sacrament of Marriage.

It is their highly traditional churches that gaining power, while the First World's numbers are stagnant or declining. At this point, the Church of England may have 26 million members, but only a million in pews each week. But England had 100-plus bishops at Lambeth. The Episcopal Church has only 2 million members - but nearly 180 votes. By contrast, Africans have infinitely smaller financial resources and, thus, fewer dioceses and bishops.

But this is changing. First-World progressives showed signs of frustration at Lambeth.

Newark Bishop John Spong, in a taped interview, said many Africans have "moved out of animism into a very superstitious kind of Christianity," failing even to grasp the "intellectual revolution of Copernicus and Einstein." The Church of England Newspaper put a bold headline on its story: "African Christians? They're just one step up from witchcraft." When asked if Africans might be offended, Spong added: "If they feel patronized that's too bad. I'm not going to cease to be a 20th-Century person for fear of offending somebody in the Third World."

African bishops were stunned. Spong issued a weak apology, while most Americans were silent. Bishop Alexis Bilindabagabo of Rwanda wondered if many Anglican churches still share the same faith, with a common view of tradition and scripture.

"The wider our family becomes, the more you want to have something in common," he said, in one debate. "When you talk about sin in certain places, it has ceased to exist. When you talk about repentance in certain places, it has ceased to exist."

The church, technology and birth control

When a technology enters a culture, it quickly spreads until it changes everything -- like a drop of red ink in a glass of water.

The result is a "Faustian bargain," said scholar Neil Postman, at a conference hosted by the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Denver. "Technological change is not additive. It is ecological. After television, America was not America plus television. Television gave a new coloration to every political campaign, to every home, to every school, to every church."

As he listened, Denver Archbishop Charles Chaput linked Postman's words with another subject mixing technology and moral choices -- the upcoming 30th anniversary of Pope John Paul VI's controversial encyclical Humanae Vitae (Of Human Life). While most people focus on this document's teachings on birth control, said the archbishop, Postman's warnings about technology helped him see Humanae Vitae in a wider context.

"From the church's point of view, there is a lot more to sex than human communication," said Chaput. "But contraception has certainly changed how human beings relate to one another. If you think of it as a technology, contraception has changed the world. It changed everything. It's hard to see that. We have a tendency to miss the bigger picture because we only focus on the details. Now, these changes have become a part of us."

The question is whether anyone - even Catholics - will take another look at this picture now that the likes of Hugh Hefner and Oprah Winfrey are middle-of-the-road authorities on marriage and sex. The Denver archbishop's new pastoral letter has emerged as one of the few Catholic statements daring to note the July 25 anniversary of this encyclical. Chaput's letter has been circulated widely on the Internet (www.sni.net/archden) and, so far, translated into Spanish, Italian, French and Japanese.

All pastors know it's hard to get addicts to face their addictions, so it helps to show them the side effects, he said. Thus, he noted that the pope warned, in Humanae Vitae, that four cultural problems would worsen, if church teachings were ignored.

* The first would be a rise in "conjugal infidelity and the general lowering of morality." Clearly, the rates of "abortion, divorce, family breakdown, wife and child abuse, venereal disease and out of wedlock births" have soared since the sexual revolution of the 1960s, noted Chaput.

* Second, men would lose respect for woman, ignoring issues of their physical and emotional health even more than in the past and exploit them as instruments of selfish pleasure. In other words, while contraception would be hailed as a boon to women, the real winners would be men.

* Third, contraception would be abused by "public authorities who take no heed of moral exigencies." Today, first- world leaders regularly export "contraceptives, abortion and sterilization" to developing nations, often as a prerequisite for financial aid, said Chaput.

* Finally, human beings would be tempted to believe that they have "unlimited dominion" over their bodies." Today, scientists and ethicists struggle to draw moral lines in the brave new world of in vitro fertilization, cloning, genetic manipulation and embryo experimentation. News reports feature teens killing their newborn babies, debates over the definition of marriage and other signs of cultural distress.

"It's obvious to everyone but an addict: We have a problem," said Chaput. "It's killing us as a people. So what are we going to do about it?"

At the very least, the 53-year-old archbishop wants to send a signal to his own flock. The first step to touching the culture is to convince Catholic women and men -- from tenured theologians to Sunday school teachers, from timid priests to soccer moms -- to at least talk about their church's teachings.

Thirty years ago, wrote Chaput, Pope Paul VI "triggered a struggle within the Church which continues to mark American Catholic life even today. The irony is that the people who dismissed Church teaching in the 1960s soon discovered that they had subverted their own ability to pass anything along to their children. The result is that the Church now must evangelize a world of their children's children -- adolescents and young adults raised in moral confusion, often unaware of their own moral heritage, who hunger for meaning, community, and love with real substance."

Ship of Fools: Laughing or crying?

The Christian's Guide to Small Arms site shoots straight with World Wide Web users, offering information on safety, ammunition, marksmanship and photos of 40-plus weapons.

Clicking on another icon leads to Bible-study materials arguing that it isn't just "the right, but in fact, the DUTY of Christians to be armed." After all, Jesus told his followers: "But now, he that hath a purse, let him take it, and likewise his scrip: and he that hath no sword, let him sell his garment, and buy one."

This site is dead serious. But is it also funny?

Stephen Goddard thinks so. So do the other editors of "Ship of Fools: The Magazine of Christian Unrest," a new "e-zine" based in Liverpool, England. They've included a salute, and an Internet link, to the small-arms site in their "Fruitcake Zone" page - along other sites such as "Live chat with God" and the "Christian Naturists" home page, with its biblical defense of nudism and the obligatory photos.

Goddard couldn't make up this stuff, yet he also knows that one man's satire is another's sacrilege. But humor also can be a sacrament, he said. The online publication has claimed as its patron St. Simeon the Holy Fool, who left his Dead Sea cave to throw nuts at clergy, blow out candles during liturgies, cavort with dancing girls and live on a shockingly bean-intensive diet.

"God uses humor a lot. In the Book of Job he is almost sarcastic," said Goddard, a veteran publicist and former editor of a British magazine for Christian young people called Buzz. "Jesus is not above ridiculing some people's opinions, but he never ridicules people. So we are trying to walk that thin line. We want to hammer things that deserve to be hammered, but we don't want to demean people."

The site - at http://ship-of-fools.com - opened in April and last month received 10,000 "hits" from readers, including what Goddard said was a rising number of letters and humorous tidbits from the United States. In Britain, the site has received coverage from The Times of London, The Guardian, BBC Radio 1, The Daily Telegraph and the Church Times.

But the Ship of Fools crew received a rockier reception when it contacted a Christian site called The Magazine Rack to request a listing in its guide to 100-plus free online publications. That site's webmaster wrote back to say that he didn't laugh when he examined Ship of Fools.

"To our regret, we were unable to find any social, moral, or redeeming value," said David Parsons. "Instead, we discovered sarcasm. I would like to bring you to remembrance that we are suppose to build up the Church and not destroy it." He also reminded Goddard and company that Jesus once said, "whosoever shall say, 'thou fool,' shall be in danger of hell fire."

Ship of Fools does contain waves of foolish stuff, such as a "Mystery Worshipper" page offering reviews of services in major churches. Coming soon: Christian "urban legends" and outrages from the theological left. Other regular features include:

* Gadgets for God, such as the "Jesus Saves" air freshener, a JC/DC shirt, a Burning Bush necktie, Share the Good Chews snacks, Hot 'n' Holy pepper sauce and lots more.

* John Calvin's Newsround, featuring strange news stories. For example, a Polish computer programmer has created a software package for those preparing for confession. The Ship of Fools crew dubbed this Penance 2.1.

* Signs and Blunders, offering bizarre images from advertisements, church signs, bumper stickers and the world at large. In one Brazilian ad, soccer superstar Ronaldo is posed atop Corcovado Mountain overlooking Rio de Janeiro, taking the place of its famous statue of Jesus.

Goddard stressed that the site's ultimate goal is constructive.

"We are actually very orthodox," he said. "But what we are discovering is that there are lots of people like us. They feel like they are on the fringe of the religious establishment or in the cracks. But they are believers. They are not liberals. They are not secularists. Whether we want to or not, we are ministering to these people by letting them laugh at this crazy world, rather than just cry about it."

The prayers of the Romanovs

Among the few belongings that survived the Romanovs' last days, anti-Bolshevik troops found a book containing a poem given to the family that Grand Duchess Olga had hand-copied and hidden in its pages.

"Lord of the world, God of creation, give us Thy blessing through our prayer," it concluded. "Give peace of heart to us, O Master, this hour of utmost dread to bear. And on the threshold of the grave, breathe power divine into our clay, that we, Thy children, may find strength in meekness for our foes to pray."

Members of the royal family wrote prayers, spiritual questions and commentaries in the margins of many books. Their letters and diaries, and the testimony of their guards, yielded more evidence that their faith deepened as they suffered. Their executioners said the Romanovs died trying to pray and make the sign of the cross amid the barrage of bullets on July 17, 1918.

In his lifetime, Nicholas II was cursed as a bloody tyrant, while others said he was too weak. Today, many say he was merely inept or trapped in a tragic role -- an articulate, gentle man better suited to be a symbolic leader than an absolute monarch. But for some Russians, these temporal disputes have little or nothing to do with an larger, eternal question: Should the Romanovs be venerated as saints?

"Yes, Nicholas II was the czar. That's important and that made his death highly symbolic," said Father Alexander Lebedeff of Los Angeles, a Russian Orthodox Church Abroad historian. "But it really doesn't matter if he was a great czar. The important question is whether he died as a martyr for the faith. We believe that the Romanov family became an extraordinary example of piety and submission to the will of God. They died praying for Russia and for their persecutors."

The exiled church canonized the Romanovs in 1981, a step the Moscow hierarchy has declined to take. But settling the status of the czar may be simple, in comparison with answering questions about thousands of bishops, priests, monks and nuns who were jailed, tortured and killed. And what should be said about those who compromised, rather than die?

Meanwhile, the burial of the Romanovs sparked bitter debates among Russian historians, politicians, nationalists and the nation as a whole. Most scientists are convinced that the remains buried on the 80th anniversary of the Yekaterinburg massacre were those of the imperial family and its loyal servants. Others, especially Orthodox leaders, insist that they still have doubts

Russian President Boris Yeltsin bluntly talked about sin, innocence, redemption and guilt during the rites in the Cathedral of Saints Peter and Paul in St. Petersburg.

"Those who committed this crime are guilty as are those who approved of it for decades. We are all guilty," he said. "We must end this century, which has been an age of blood and violence in Russia, with repentance and peace. ^E This is our historical chance."

Moscow Patriarch Alexy II, who refused to attend the rites, had earlier issued a national call for repentance for the sin of "apostasy and regicide."

"Repentance for it should become a sign of the unity of our people, which is reached not through indifferent acquiescence but thoughtful reflection on what happened to the country and the people. Only then it will be a unity not in form but in spirit," he said.

It may take a generation or more to find any unity in the soul of Russia. But Lebedeff noted that the Russian Orthodox Church Abroad and the Moscow Patriarchate have, ironically, found common ground on one issue -- perhaps the first time they've been united on anything.

"Both churches have strong doubts about whether these remains are, in fact, the bodies of the czar and his family," he said. "But beyond that, we just don't believe that this is the kind of issue that can be settled on a timetable set by the government. You simply cannot settle for the work of scientific commissions and DNA research when you are dealing with questions about what may or may not be the holy relics of martyrs."

Anglicanism's most controversial missionary

Father Thomas Johnston of Arkansas is without a doubt the world's most controversial missionary, at least among prelates who wear purple shirts and Anglican collars.

It isn't his years of overseas work that will have insiders whispering, or cursing, his name during the next three weeks as 800 Anglican bishops gather at Canterbury for their once-a-decade Lambeth Conference. No, Johnston is controversial because he is currently, under church law, a foreign missionary in his own land. He is an American priest who works for an African bishop, leading an American congregation that exists in open defiance of its American bishop.

The story of St. Andrew's Church in Little Rock is extremely complicated -- almost as complicated as the puzzle facing Archbishop of Canterbury George Carey and others striving to preserve unity among the world's 70 million Anglicans.

"Times of reformation are always messy and painful," said Johnston. "But some of us have been praying for just such a time -- a time when people will have to take a stand on the substance of their faith. They will have to cling to some things and surrender others. So be it."

It's easy to sense the pain in letters exchanged between Johnston, Arkansas Bishop Larry Maze and Bishop John Rucyahana of the Province of Rwanda. While most of the headlines produced by the 13th Lambeth gathering will center on sex, this Little Rock dispute represents the cutting edge of Anglican conflicts over wider issues -- from biblical authority to the relevance of ancient creeds proclaiming a Trinitarian God of Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Two years ago, Maze rejected a local evangelical group's appeal to start a new parish. The bishop was convinced that he was dealing with rebels who merely oppose the work of those, such as himself, who are committed to modernizing church teachings on sexuality and marriage. Instead of surrendering, the fledgling congregation sought help from a national and international network of like-minded Anglicans.

Eventually, the mission hired Johnston. Maze and his diocese refused to give the priest permission to serve in Little Rock and quickly began the process of asking his former diocese in South Carolina to recall or discipline him. The Arkansas bishop learned that Johnston had, legally, been transferred to the Diocese of Shyira, Rwanda.

"It seems clear that Mr. Johnston has no intention of moving to Rwanda ... and that action was taken only to remove himself from accountability in the American church," wrote Maze, in an April statement. "What had been a national dispute involving the integrity of diocesan boundaries, is now an issue transplanted to the larger Anglican Communion."

Maze asked Rucyahana to "redeploy" Johnston to "a diocese that might request this presence." The African bishop replied that he remains committed to giving the priest and his flock "spiritual asylum." The bishop is scheduled to visit Little Rock in September.

"The Unity of the Church is centered only in Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior, who died for our sins, rose from the dead and lives (as we have it in the Christian creeds)," wrote Rucyahana. "So the issue of boundaries and collegiality can not hold when the central Unity in Jesus is damaged." The African bishop isn't alone. Other African and Asian bishops have signaled that if Americans keep making unilateral doctrinal changes that affect Anglicans worldwide, then the Third World may respond with unilateral legal steps that affect Episcopalians in America.

In effect, many Americans argue that Anglicanism must defend ancient traditions about church laws and holy orders, while embracing doctrinal ambiguities. Third World bishops are saying that they will live with ambiguities affecting property laws, pensions and holy orders, in order to defend ancient doctrines. Both sides are clashing with another tradition: that the church must be defined by right doctrine and right orders.

"It's a really sick situation," said Johnston. "Truth is, the sexuality issue is just a symptom of a much greater evil and darkness at the very heart of the Episcopal Church. ... Many of our leaders no longer teach the Nicene faith. They no longer believe in the faith of the ancient church. When that happens -- it's all over. God will not bless that kind of church."

A Catholic critic -- on the right

Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas returned home to Roman Catholicism two years ago and, more recently, a few high-profile conservatives have converted -- ranging from Norma "Jane Roe" McCorvey to Florida Wasp Jeb Bush.

While the Evangelical Right gets the most ink, it isn't hard to figure out what's happening, said Joseph D'Agostino of Human Events, a conservative weekly based in Washington, D.C.

"It's a reaction to an incredible decline in Western and American culture. The very concept of truth has, today, come under attack. We've come that far. Meanwhile, the Catholic church is still viewed as being a defender of truth, reason and traditional values," he said. "So, despite the best efforts of the church hierarchy ... some conservatives are converting."

D'Agostino understands because he, too, feels the pull of centuries of tradition and faith. But in a recent article in a traditionalist magazine, The Latin Mass, he described why he hasn't joined the procession. While most criticism of Roman Catholicism comes from the left, his confession -- "Why I'm Almost a Catholic" -- offers a rare unbeliever's view from the right.

When Catholic leaders prepare to face skeptics, they don't prep to handle the theological questions of someone who was raised as a Reform Jew, majored in Latin and classics in college, and then found his niche in political journalism.

The bottom line is that D'Agostino is a free agent. He has looked at other options, such as Orthodox Judaism. He bluntly said he considers Protestantism "a joke." He believes that the Protestant right offers "faith without intellect," while the left offers "intellect without faith." Needless to say, this viewpoint isn't very popular among Southern Baptists, traditional Lutherans, doctrinaire Calvinists and legions of other religious conservatives.

D'Agostino said he has always felt drawn to Catholicism's emphasis on reason, order, structure, beauty and "simply goodness." As a conservative, he also believes that Rome has all the right enemies.

"The resentment men, including most Catholics, hold against the Church intrigues me. ... I believe this, and the Church's willingness to take a stand in a society of moral cowards, drew me toward the Church before all else," he wrote. "When I look at the Church's enemies present and past the Church comes out looking very good. I suspect that men resent her because, consciously or not, they fear that her demanding doctrines might be true."

Quite frankly, D'Agostino puts himself in this latter category. While not an atheist, he describes himself as an "Aristotelian Deist" who accepts some role for God in governing the universe and he believes reason can lead to moral laws, as well. But D'Agostino just can't make the leap to Christian faith. He has been left with big questions, such as: Why is the world so messed up? Why am I so messed up? What happens after death?

"At some point, you either go with Aristotle or you go with Jesus and that's that," he said. "Reason can only take you so far. ... My problem is that I just don't have faith. In the end, I have not accepted, by faith, that Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior."

But there is another hurdle that stands between him and conversion. Most of the Catholic clergy that he has met seem to lack confidence that they have solid answers for tough questions, said D'Agostino. They seem more comfortable working with converts who will quickly accept some, but not all, Catholic teachings, than they are wrestling with someone who hungers for the faith of the ages -- all of it.

As a skeptic, D'Agostino said he is convinced Catholicism cannot afford to make peace with its critics.

"Most Catholicism today seems so soft. It doesn't openly compromise with the world, but it doesn't really attack modernity," he said. "You see, I don't think it's the church's job to hold polite dialogues with the world. The church's job is to give people the answers that Christians have lived and died to defend through the ages. If I'm going to convert, that's what will convert me -- the real thing."