My good friend Lisa, in her post today, alerted us Piskie readers to the actions of the Diocese of South Carolina, which she charged might be "secessionist and duplicitous".

I responded, because it showed me the clear, highly charged path between conditions and actions. It's almost as clear as the path that creates a lightning bolt between cloud and ground:

Since 2009, TEC has not received a pledge from the DofSC greater than 0.7% of its income. By contrast, even the DofLouisiana has pledged in the 10-11% range; NC is at 21%, and VA is above 17%. SC is de facto in secession.

I have two proposals, one hard line, the other softer. Hardline? Adopting the principle that one puts one's money where one's mouth is, I propose we replace the entire SC standing committee and bishop based on their failure to do their part to uphold the Church to which they claim to belong. IOW, show me your commitment to TEC by your pledge and its fulfillment. This is the God of Judgement, in spades. There will be winners and losers.

The softer line entails more work. Organize. Create a coalition. Invade the state as CORE did the South in 1961 with its Freedom Rides. Enlist Integrity, HRC, and any other organizations willing to participate. Visit the churches in the DofSC. All of them, if you have the staff. Engage the vestries and clergy. Ask for time to speak to "adult formation". Put human faces to labels like "gay" and "lesbian". You want friends? Be a friend. There are dozens of ways by which you can do this, you know them, you can't do it just by e-mail or Twitter or blogs. You have to be there and make the commitment to be a real friend. Visit a sick relative, hug a stranger, make a phone call in support of a parishioner's need. The softer line converts adversaries into friends. Net, no losers.

The bishop's stance? Up to his congregations. The change starts from the ground up. When the civil rights movement changed us forever, some fifty years ago, did you see the change coming from the top down? Weren't you listening?

 I recognize the risk I have created, that I might be thrust into a leadership role in such an effort. Understand that I greatly prefer a consultative role. I recognize that such a role transfers responsibility to another, whose values may not coincide with my own. I have not given sufficient thought to the morality of such a decision.

Final straw: I gave up on a goal today

I have, finally, given up entirely on being part of a Piskie (Episcopal Church) organization that was, I thought, congruent with my own views: equal treatment, all the sacraments for all the baptized, that sort of thing. Today was the last straw, and it was only a straw that did it, although the tipping point was reached a bit earlier. Here's the history of my disenchantment with a group I thought I could be a part of, not realizing they had their own internal rules.

In 2007, I consented to helping re-form the local chapter. I consented to co-chairing the chapter. When most of the organizers promptly bailed out after the chapter was formed, I consented to chairing the chapter. Help from the membership was not present.

Help from the National organization was, in Kelvin numbers, in the single digits. They sent pitiful tracts, in quality and quantity, for the table at Diocesan Convention. Communication and support, in Kelvin numbers, brought the numbers lower, not higher. This was truly a wilderness experience. As Convener, I should have the privilege of delegating authority, but there was no one who would step forward and help out.

Fast forward to 2011. With a new burst of energy from our newly-elected Convener and a grant from the national organization, we planned, organized and executed a film festival, in two venues, South Side and North Side. National accepted our plan and sent us a 50% advance on the grant. We did it. The South Side was predictably barren: our posters were removed or never posted, our 'net ads never appeared. The North Side received a better fate. Three or four ancillary groups helped us spread the word, we got help from the venue's press, and our premiere of Gene Robinson's second film provided enough spark to make the festival a success, but only marginally so. The festival ended in February. It is now May, and the Convener has yet to submit a final report. Without this report, there are insufficient funds to cover my expenses.

In March 2012, the national organization asked me to represent them at a two-day meeting of a delegation headed for our triennial General Convention: set up a table, network, schmooze, help out, whatever: represent the organization. I did this, willingly, cheerfully.

Now, here we are approaching our General Convention. The national organization asked for volunteers, and I responded immediately. Less than two weeks ago, I received a form email stating that I was not selected to represent the organization.

Oh, yes, the final straw? The Tiger Lady of the organization runs a blog. I submitted a response to one of her posts this morning. It probably wasn't as weighty as it could have been, but I put some time and energy into it, nonetheless. She threw it away.

Oh, yes, I have an ego, and I genuinely appreciate a kind word and the acquiescence of a blogger to post my occasional contributions, some substantive toward the blogger's POV, others less so or even challenging.

Too much to do to waste more time on these insults, I'm off to helping others treat us all as equals. It's a major task, here in darkest Indiana. I shall be busy. All the best to those who are overwhelmed with talent that you have no need of mine.