Date:  11/10/03

To:     UPCHAT
From: Jim Kelsey

It's Monday morning, and Mary and I are driving from New Hampshire to 
Massachusetts to visit my mother and sister before our return to the UP on 
Tuesday. I am writing this note to share with you all back home what our 
experience was like at Gene Robinson's ordination.

On Saturday, we drove to Chicago, where we attended Miriam Hoover's 90th 
birthday celebration that evening (quite a gala event, to be sure - giving 
us a chance to visit with several members of the Church of the 
Transfiguration on Bois Blanc Island). Early Sunday morning, we drove to 
O'Hare airport and flew to Manchester, New Hampshire, where we rented a 
car and drove the 40 miles to Durham, where the ordination was scheduled 
to take place. Durham is on the eastern side of southern New Hampshire 
and is where the University of New Hampshire is located. The ordination 
took place in the large ice arena on campus.

As we drove into town, you were aware of the excitement in the air. 
Various roads were blocked off, there were state police and other security 
guards posted around town. The entry into every parking lot was carefully 
controlled. We followed the directions we'd been sent ahead of time and 
made our way into the main parking lot near the arena. It was early 
(about 11:30am - and the liturgy was not scheduled to begin until 4pm), 
but I had been sent an email by the Presiding Bishop's office inviting me 
to attend a meeting of bishops coming to the ordination, supposedly 
starting around that time, so Mary and I parked the car and started off to 
find the location of that meeting. As we approached the arena, there were 
already protesters beginning to line the walkways. There were also TV 
satelite dishes and vans and cameras, videotaping everyone approaching the 
building. My clericals and vestments bag obviously attracted them, 
because two or three shoulder-mounted cameras followed us along the 
sidewalk as if we were Heidi Fleiss and her attorneys heading for trial. 
Getting closer to the arena, we were confronted with several dozen state 
troopers, some on horse back, some on foot. Most of the walkways were 
blocked off by orange tape and mesh and other barricades, so there was 
only one path to enter. Up close to the building, there was a stretch 
where the protesters against the ordination were corralled to one side and 
on the other side of the sidewalk were the counter-protesters, who carried 
signs and chanted slogans of support for the ordination. At this early 
hour, there were very few in place, but you had the real sense of what was 
to come.

Entering the arena, there were registration tables set up against the far 
wall. To enter the seats, you had to pass through metal detectors, 
emptying your pockets as at the airport, but all bags were searched by 
hand, since there were no x-ray machines. We actually went through the 
security check, but once inside, we finally found people who could tell us 
of the location of the bishops' meeting, so we ended up leaving the arena 
and going to the complex next door. As we left the arena, a state trooper 
stopped us and asked us where we were going and why we were leaving.

Over at the New England Center (a few minutes walk from the arena) we 
found a number of other bishops, mostly from Province I (the New England 
province). We learned that the meeting first called by the Presiding 
Bishop had been cancelled due to all of the craziness surrounding the 
media and security and all the rest, but we did have opportunity to get 
some lunch and to visit with some friends while we waited for the 1:30pm 
check-in time for bishops. During the meal-time conversation, we learned 
that there were about 60 bishops coming (three times the number usually 
anticipated for a bishop's ordination), and also that there had been death 
threats issued against Gene Robinson, his family, and Frank Griswold and 
other church officials. These threats, as they came in, were referred to 
the FBI who checked them out, and they determined that some of them were 
of such a nature that they should be taken very seriously.

After a few minutes, Gene Robinson stopped by the room where we were 
meeting, and as I greeted him with a warm hug, I felt the bullet-proof 
vest he was wearing. When I greeted his partner, Mark, I discovered that 
he was wearing one as well. They have had to move out of their home over 
the past several days, for security reasons, and Gene's two daughters, 
son-in-law, and grandchild have also had to be protected. 

The Province I bishops have a tradition of guessing how long the liturgy 
at every bishop's ordination in the province will last. Everyone 
registered a time with Chilton Knudson, the President of the Province. 
The time would be marked by Chilton's watch at the moment the deacon gave 
the dismissal. The earliest time estimate was 6:37, and the latest 7:11.

When we returned to the arena for the 1:30pm check-in, we found that the 
huge crowds had started to form. The line for those waiting to go through 
security stretched outside and well along the building. The protesters 
were out as well, but one surprise was that the group of negative 
protesters was outnumbered by those who gathered in support. Those in 
support were mostly students from the university, who carried signs and 
chanted their well wishes for the Episcopal Church. By contrast, the 
negative protesters carried graphic and obscene posters and shouted 
scripture verses as if they were curses (talk about taking the Lord's Name 
in vain!). They also had small children with them. (A rather obvious 
example of child abuse, in my book.)

Inside the arena, it was a mob scene. Getting registered, being given a 
color coded name tag, after your name was checked off, then waiting 
forever to get through the metal detectors and security screening. Your 
ticket was punched (after which you were not permitted to leave the arena 
without losing the ability to re-enter). The crowds were overwhelming, 
and it was still 1:30pm before a 4:00pm liturgy.

Mary joined some other bishops' spouses and friends in the arena itself, 
while I was ushered upstairs to the Mezzanine area, outside the sky-boxes 
overlooking the massive seating and rink. This was the room where the 60 
bishops and a number of Presenters and other service participants waited 
for the service. The bishops stood in line, as usual, to sign the 
certificate and to press one's signet ring into the sealing wax, leaving 
behind the impression of the seal of the diocese (this is the same routine 
which happens at every bishop's ordination, overseen by Carl Gerdau who 
bends over the little hot plate he brings for the small sauce pan in which 
he melts the wax for it to be spooned onto the parchment - - - truly 
something out of Harry Potter...)

From the moment we arrived in the Mezzanine-vesting area, there were 
several video cameras and sound people, with huge boom microphones with 
big fluffy covers, wandering around the room. Every once in a while, 
you'd be aware that your conversation with others in the room was being 
filmed, with a mike hanging overhead. (You then thought back to try to 
remember what you had been saying!).

When Gene arrived with his family, it was easy to spot him in the room. 
Just look for the clutter of cameras and mikes and reporters, as well as 
the team of body guards who followed him every step he took. At one 
point, I learned from Mark (Gene's partner) that the two of them will be 
interviewed on the Today Show on Tuesday morning. This is the first time 
that Mark will accompany Gene in one of these interviews. He's used to 
speaking in public (as a part of his work for the state), but this will be 
different from anything like that he's done in the past. Their daughter 
Ella would be with them as well on the show. At another point, Gene told 
me that he had received a call the day before from Matthew Shepherd's 
mother. She had told him that she was sure Matthew was smiling down upon 
what was happening that day.

Finally, the time arrived for us to vest and line up for the procession. 
(It's the first time since I've been ordained bishop that the bishops were 
lined up in order of seniority.) Interesting to see the mix of bishops 
there, including some very prominent, now retired, bishops and those of us 
who are new. (Actually I was surprised to be reminded how many bishops 
have been ordained since I was ordained in 1999. How time flies!) It 
was a real sense of the leadership of the Church, old and new through many 
generations, standing together. Ed Browning (Frank Griswold's 
predecessor) was there at Frank's side throughout the liturgy.

Once we were all lined up, it seemed forever before the line started to 
move, and we joined the procession which had included representatives from 
every congregation of the Diocese of New Hampshire, clergy from the 
diocese and from many other dioceses as well, and other denominations, the 
60 bishops, and, of course, Gene. At one point, we advanced to some 
stairs next to outdoor windows, and we watched several bomb-sniffing dogs 
being led around the building and parking lot - reminding us of the 
seriousness with which security was being taken. As we entered the arena, 
we were surrounded by 3000 Episcopalians singing "Alleluia! Sing to 
Jesus!", it was truly a remarkable moment.

The liturgy began as do all bishop's ordination liturgies. Certainly a 
tremendous energy and excitement in the air, and the congregation's 
responses were almost deafening. The dramatic moment, of course, came 
when Frank Griswold read the same words spoken at every ordination: "...if 
any of you know any reason why we should not proceed, let it now be made 
known." 

Everyone knew that there would be at least two objections. There were, in 
fact, three. When Barbara Harris, Jane Dixon, and Mary Adelia McLeod were 
ordained (the first three women bishops) objections had been voiced as 
well. In the case of Barbara Harris, the congregation started booing and 
shouting out against those who objected, so by now, a careful process has 
been developed to deal with what could be a volatile situation. Before 
the protesters were given the microphone, Frank asked the congregation to 
be seated. He then pointed out that those who were about to speak are our 
brothers and sisters in Christ, and it is important that we give no 
response, either in favor or against as each person is speaking. 

The first to voice objection was a priest from the Diocese of Pittsburgh. 
His written speech was long and explicit. He chose to describe in graphic 
detail the physical act of homosexual intercourse to the point that Frank 
Griswold had to interrupt him and ask him to spare us the details and get 
to the substance. Next, a woman from New Hampshire, a member of the local 
chapter of the conservative American Anglican Council (AAC), read a 
prepared statement. This was followed by David Bena, the Bishop Suffragan 
of Albany, who read a statement on behalf of 36 bishops who are also 
members of the AAC. There were no new points made from those which have 
been made over the past several months (and years), and in light of that, 
Frank Griswold announced that since the General Convention had already 
considered these matters and had come to its decision, we would proceed 
with the ordination.

The next part of the liturgy were the questions asked by the Presiding 
Bishop "Is it your will that we ordain Gene a bishop?" and "Will you 
uphold Gene as a bishop?". Perhaps you can imagine the energy, the 
volume, the intensity with which that congregation of 3000 (who had just 
been forced to sit silently through twenty minutes of speeches by 
detractors) responded to those questions. You could feel it, like 
standing in a wind tunnel - and it felt to me very much like RUACH - the 
Spirit of the Living God pushing our Church and our world into its future.

There were many other marvelous features to the liturgy, including a seven 
year old child who read one of the scriptures, and a Hebrew student who 
read the first lesson from Isaiah in Hebrew. Doug Theuner, the retiring 
bishop of New Hampshire, preached a stirring and challenging sermon, 
reminding us that what is happening is not about Gene so much as it is 
about what new thing God and the Episcopal Church are doing. When the 
time came for the bishops to lay on hands, it was an inspiring moment for 
me personally to join with these colleagues of mine in what is a truly 
historic moment. There was a great sense of reverence and, again, the 
presence and power of the Spirit.

At the end of the liturgy, the congregation broke into thunderous applause 
as the bishops processed out, now with Gene in our midst. [By the way, 
the winner of the pool was Gayle Harris (Bishop Suffragan of New 
Hampshire). The deacon gave the dismissal at 7:06pm. Gayle carried home 
the $2 coin which has been passed around for the past few years from 
bishop to bishop as various episcopal ordinations have taken place.]The 
floor of the arena itself became transformed into a giant reception area, 
and people mingled for some time. (Mary and I had a chance to connect with 
my brother, Steve, and his wife Kathy - as well as a few other friends.) 
When we left the arena and walked out to our car, we had to walk the 
gauntlet of protesters one last time - but this time, it especially 
obvious that the negative protesters were outnumbered by the students who 
had flocked to the arena. As we walked away from the building, a few of 
the preachers of hate continued their ranting, but they were roundly 
over-powered by the students who applauded and shouted out "Good Work!" 
and "God bless you!" and "Hurray for the Episcopal Church".

Mary and I drove over to the New England Center next door, checked into 
our room, and then joined the private dinner for Gene and those of us who 
had traveled distances to be there. It was a wonderful, relaxed, and 
informal way to end what had been a very long day. An important day, and 
one which makes me prouder than I can imagine to be a member of our 
Episcopal Church.

Jim