Following is the text of the address given by Bishop Julia E. Whitworth at the 239th annual Diocesan Convention on Saturday, Nov. 9, 2024.
Grace and peace to you, Beloved Diocese of Massachusetts.
Listen to those words. We see them in Scripture again and again: Grace and Peace. What we need in double dose right now, I'd say. In a time of transition for our diocese—what our new Presiding Bishop calls a period of “productive disequilibrium”—and especially in this time in our nation with so much uncertainty and division, with all that has been, and all that may be before us.
Grace and Peace to you, Beloved.
Now, some of you may know that the original plan for the theme of this convention was to be: “Behold! I am doing a new thing!” When your amazing convention planning team shared this with me approximately four days after my election, I said, "Ooh, can we back off that just in case I don’t actually have anything new to say?"
But there were other reasons that I thought, even back in May, that we might want a different narrative holding us together today, one about belonging one of another. No matter the outcome of this week’s election, I had a strong suspicion that we would feel a little beaten up. Exhausted by the division, the ugly discourse, the fear-mongering. Raw from stress about the future of our nation, perhaps wearied by worry over our churches, as well.
Moreover, we know that, irrespective of politics, we live in an age already marked by isolation and despair. Loneliness so pervasive that our Surgeon General has marked it as a critical subject for our health. Fear so extensive as to be harnessed by forces that seek to control, oppress, and divide.
Given all that, I thought we could use—or maybe just I could use—a reminder about who we are to one another, and to the world. And about Whose we are. We just might need a reminder that our belonging in this world surpasses that of any political party, any nation...even any parish, diocese, or denomination.
Because we belong to the Creator God who made us in God’s image, who made everyone in God's image, and loves us with a grace beyond measure. And in that belonging, we belong one to another, bound by love as a Church, bound by love to every being in this world, especially those whom we are called to serve and to protect in the face of danger and oppression.
Way back in the summer, I had already planned to address you today about a longing for belonging, about healing and hope. Now more than ever, those words from today’s Epistle—“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds”—that feels like a fierce commission for us all.
Do not be conformed to hopelessness, despair, division. Do not concede to isolation, which forces of evil trade upon to consolidate power, to control and oppress.
Rather: Be transformed by the renewal that comes when we pull together as One Church, united as the Body of Christ. Together, we are not alone, because we belong, to Christ, and to one another.
Now, in order to think about some ways that we might be transformed by renewal, I want to share with you some ways that I have noticed this diocese, talk about itself during my time of transition. Some of your narratives that come back to me again and again.
And I'm going to offer some thoughts about new ways that we might try to be the Church together. I believe we can find some new narratives to tell one another and the world. So here goes.
Narrative Number One: "The Diocese of Massachusetts is a complex system."
Yes. You all are a lot. A lot of parishes, chaplaincies, communities, ministries. That's really what drew me to you. I'm kind of a lot myself. And I love the diversity, the energy, the imagination, all the ways the Gospel is lived out here in the eastern part of Massachusetts.
And, I'm struck: There are a lot of committees. Task forces. Working groups and commissions. I find myself wondering: Is there a way we can simplify and streamline our work together? It feels like we need to really look at structures that were set up perhaps when the diocese was a little bit bigger, the world was a little bit different, so that we might figure out how to turn our energy more effectively outward towards others, to better communicate who we are to the world.
I'm sure you're feeling this in your parishes. It's more and more difficult to find people to do the work of governance, stewardship, leadership. People are stretched so thin, yet we continue to try to run the church the way our parents and grandparents ran it before us. If we are spending all of our energy looking inward, trying to maintain the past, we are at risk of losing the very thing that we are called to do: to proclaim the Gospel to the world. And we will implode very slowly, one half-attended meeting at a time.
I'm wondering if we can simplify. If we can consolidate our energies and resources to focus on being and doing the Gospel. I am so grateful to the Budget, Strategy and Governance Committee for beginning to ask these tough questions, and I look forward to asking them with you.
In the years to come, I hope we can interrogate these systems with clarity of focus and mission, so we can conserve energy and resources, and ultimately amplify what is most important in our life together. To that end I have engaged the consulting firm Ministry Architects to work with us for the next year on a visioning discernment process. Building off the work of the Healthy Congregations Task Force, this consultancy will help clarify our priorities for diocesan programming, staffing, resourcing for our congregations and ministries and will give us a jump on the five-year mission strategy process. You will be hearing more about this and the diocesan discernment sessions in the year to come, to which you all be invited.
Here is another narrative which I have heard, Number Two:
“New Englanders are frugal, even a little stingy. And very reserved. Not very welcoming.”
You have told me this, a lot. My friends, stingy and unwelcoming will not do for Christians. It doesn't work.
In a time of contraction for our church, and a time when greed dominates the national discourse, what would it look like for us to offer a counter-narrative to this regional distinction? I reject it.
First of all, I will say to you: You’re not stingy. You're not. You are generous and welcoming. I’m just beginning to learn about the ways that you are caring for your communities, especially your newest neighbors, and I am blown away. Take, for instance, St. Paul’s, Newburyport, who have modeled holy hospitality and ingenuity in welcoming Afghan refugees for the past few years. Thank you!
Thank you also to those parishes that have jumped up to provide emergency shelter for refugees and for other families impacted by recent policy changes in our Commonwealth this fall. Would you raise your hand if your congregation has newly become involved in providing housing for those in need this year?
As issues around affordable housing continue to be a problem in this very expensive part of the world, and the deep likelihood that sanctuary for refugees and immigrants will intensify in the year to come, I am committing myself to the work of advocacy and engagement in those areas, joining the Episcopal City Mission and so many of you in the fight for housing equity. And for hospitality for those newest to our country.
Now, I will say, many of you have been doing this holy work of welcoming the stranger in our midst for a long time. I am inspired by the creation of the Bishop Alan M. Gates African Anglican-Episcopal Mission Center, which we dedicated just last month. You were so generous in supporting that and making that happen. The Diocese of Massachusetts is already, and should continue to be, at the forefront of welcoming immigrant populations and reflecting the extraordinary diversity of the Church. We just need to tell ourselves that a little bit more and the whole world.
We also have a history of creativity with and for youth and young adults, welcoming them as true, full, complete members of our church, not just the future but the present, and I am committed to continuing and expanding that work. I’m so excited about the Allston Abbey and other nontraditional ministry streams which may be deep in your imagining and in your longing. Rather than entrenching ourselves in a narrative of scarcity, we should lean into a narrative of abundance, because from that comes creativity. And that's what we need to continue to grow, to church plant, and to innovate as a diocese.
I’d also like us to tell another story about hospitality and invitation, which I'd like to raise up for us all this day. Hospitality and invitation, they go hand in hand, and they go hand in hand with the Great Commission to make disciples, to be evangelists – to share the Good News. One of my priorities this year is to work with the diocesan staff, and all of you, on telling the story of the Episcopal Church in eastern Massachusetts in a clear and compelling way. We must draw more people to your churches, your ministries, and most importantly, to Jesus Christ. We have a great thing going in the Episcopal Church – and we need to tell that story widely and proudly.
You know, there’s a narrative out there that “people just don’t go to church anymore.” It’s so easy to believe that the Church is dying, but I reject that narrative as well. I do not conform to that narrative.
It's changing, for sure. And we continue to be called to offer an abundant invitation to a life-giving, justice-bearing community of faith, for people who don't even know that's an option, and we must be persistent and loving in doing so, for the good, the health, the healing of the world.
I have another word to share about this narrative about frugality. I want to affirm that it’s great to be conscientious about our God-given abundance. And I do know it’s so expensive to keep our church doors open.
However, I want to name to you that in the brief time I've been here, I am very concerned by reports that our priests are struggling to make ends meet, that they're unable to afford to live anywhere near their ministry contexts, or even to remain in their ministries, or in this diocese, due to financial stress.
It’s troubling when congregations spend more on buildings than on the ministries of worship, hospitality, and service—the very things which make us the Church.
If we are not taking care of our clergy leaders, then what are we saying about our values as a church? If we aren’t investing in the livelihood of those whom we have called to lead, how can we expect to create vital, sustainable ministries that will draw new people into our churches and into our faith?
I submit that we need to think creatively and collaboratively about how we can provide livable wages and livable lives for our priests. We must do this to avoid falling into the trap of an inhumane gig economy, which devalues the dignity and flourishing of its workers. This is bad for recruitment and retention, and it weakens our church’s ability to evangelize with abundance and joy.
And my friends, joy is something we need right now. As your bishop, I am really going to be looking at joy in this diocese. I'll be looking at how we support clergy financially, but also spiritually and emotionally, especially after so many years of strain, and during this anxious time. I will work with your deans, your vestries, diocesan staff to create new ways to support the clergy, all the clergy, for their thriving. By extension, I believe your congregations will experience more thriving as well.
Because here’s the thing: if our clergy aren’t supported and empowered in ways that sustain their spirit, and their bodies, and their families, they're not going to be able to lead in a joyful and hopeful way, and that's what we need.
That brings me to Narrative Three. You're going to recognize this one:
“We are really Congregationalist, you know. It's a New England thing."
Some say it as if it's a badge of honor, or a defense against a concern about overbearing authority. Claiming local autonomy is big here, I get it. But, Beloved, I’m here to tell you: You are Episcopalians.
And I'm so glad you are. I am so glad that we are linked by common mission, prayer, and polity. I'm so grateful that we are a people who have bishops, and that three weeks ago at my Consecration, you and I committed to belong to another. We already belong to one another as one Church, but this thing, it's a little special. So I'm prepared to lean into it, and I hope you will as well.
You see, we were never meant as a church to go it alone as individuals, or individual congregations. Frankly I think that kind of staunch isolationism is contrary to the very mission of the Church, and, frankly, a form of American exceptionalism that does almost no one any good.
We must learn to live and work interdependently if we are to be the people God is calling us to be, especially now in this hurting world. Our new Presiding Bishop, Sean Rowe, reminded us just last weekend, with his words: “We must stand together against the lies of the enemy that would keep us small, lifeless, and hopeless. The days are over, if they ever existed, when dioceses, congregations, and institutions of our Church could simply go it alone. We need to collaborate, to share, to proclaim the Gospel.”
It is clear to me we have real work to do – strategic work and spiritual work – in order to tell a new story, of a diocese with abundant belonging, collaboration, and interdependence, in order to participate fully in God’s healing of the world.
Trauma, Truth-Telling, and Solidarity
Now, a word about healing, about trauma, and about truth-telling. I know we have work to do in this diocese. There has been trauma—both named and unnamed—woven throughout your history. Without truth-telling there cannot be repair, without repair there cannot be real trust, especially of the episcopate.
And without trust, it will be nearly impossible to move forward in the work that I am setting before us. So we will do the work.
I am deeply grateful for the ongoing leadership of our Racial Justice Commission, from whom you’ll hear later today. Their work on reparations, formation, and support for BIPOC people in this diocese, in our Commonwealth, has been an incredible privilege to learn about and come alongside as your bishop. Thank you, RJC, for your commitment to leading us in becoming an antiracist diocese.
I’m glad to announce that the Task Force for Women Clergy, which may end up being renamed, is finally getting underway, after a call for it last spring. They right now have a loose charge to address longstanding and newly opened wounds against women in our diocese. But that charge may expand. I am so thankful to Deacon Mary Beth Emerson, the Rev. Pam Werntz, and Dr. Maureen Van Niel for agreeing to lead this work. Very soon, a broader group will map our way forward. Our goal is to become repairers of the breach in the fabric of our diocese, especially in the light of the history of trauma experienced by women and LGBTQ+ clergy here. Please join me in thanking them for their service.
While we’re speaking about trauma, I want to acknowledge as best I can the fear that many of you, many of us, are feeling after Tuesday’s election—especially those of you who identify as women, queer, transgender, or those who have LGBTQ+ family members and congregants. Those of you who are people of color, love people of color, are immigrants... anyone who feels under threat at this time. We do not know what the next four years will bring, but please hear this: As your bishop and sibling in Christ, I am committed to standing with you as an advocate, a voice in the public square, and a fellow member of God’s household. The Commonwealth and Diocese of Massachusetts have long been leaders in advocating especially for the rights of women and LGBTQ+ people, and now, as those rights are under renewed threat, I commit to joining the fight to protect you, to protect me and my daughter, and, for that matter, my sons, with whatever resources I have, in the name of Christ the Liberator.
Conclusion
As I wrap up this address, I wish to express some gratitude.
First, I thank you for entrusting me with the leadership of this diocese. It’s humbling, and a little overwhelming, but I pledge to you I will do my utmost, for the love of the Gospel and the love of you all. I also thank you for your grace and peace as I learn this important role.
Second, thank you to all who have been involved in bringing me here, welcoming me, equipping me for this journey, and creating that beautiful consecration liturgy that ushered in the Holy Spirit for us all! You know who you are, and later we actually will formally name a whole bunch of you as well, but know that I am forever grateful.
I also want to express a special thanks to the Diocesan Staff team. I recognize that in many ways, I am turning your lives upside down, and I appreciate your optimism, flexibility, and spirit of possibility.
I also thank our Deans, Diocesan Council, Standing Committee, and all leadership bodies for your patience with my many, many questions and occasional provocations.
I remain deeply grateful to Bishop Alan Gates for his gracious welcome during our time of overlap and transition. I learned so much from bearing close witness to his pastoral heart for all of you.
And finally, profound thanks to my sister bishop, Bishop Carol Gallagher, Assistant Bishop of this diocese for the last two years, and Regional Canon for your Central Region before that. Her remarkable patience and support of me has been invaluable. I am so grateful for all that she has done for me and all that she has done for you.
As you know, Bishop Carol will retire in 2025, after a well-earned sabbatical. Her last day working as Assistant Bishop will be December 31, 2024. We will be celebrating her some more next month, you'll be hearing about that, but I ask you to join me now in expressing our gratitude.
Many of you are wondering what happens after Bishop Carol’s retirement. Let me say clearly I will NOT be calling for an election of a Bishop Suffragan at this time. I feel strongly that we need some time to settle in together, to assess our diocesan mission, and to consider my leadership needs, and your leadership needs, before engaging a permanent second bishop.
Instead, today I am asking you to pass a resolution allowing me to call a new Assistant Bishop next year, likely with provisional (interim) status. Should an Assistant Bishop not be available, it's possible that I will call one or two part-time Assisting Bishops to support our liturgical needs, which in fact does not require permission from Convention. I nevertheless request the resolution as I continue to assess what's possible for the diocese. In either case, Bishop Carol’s supervisory responsibilities will be redistributed within the diocesan staff under my oversight for stability during this time of transition. I am very grateful for your support.
Now again I say: Grace and peace to you, Beloved Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts.
Whatever may come, never forget that you are not alone.
You have me, you have one another, you have Jesus Christ in whom we place all our faith.
We are One Body in Christ, members one of another. Thanks be to God!