Just over five years ago, I received a call from Christopher Wells, who was, at that time, executive director of the Living Church Foundation. He informed me that Zack Guiliano, who’d been the editor of Covenant for five years, was stepping back from the role to focus on other endeavors and asked if I’d consider taking on the task in his stead. A few additional questions followed, including assurances that I was loyal to the Episcopal Church, with no designs on running to the warm embrace of the Roman Church, and the deal was done. I took over as editor in June of 2019.
This transition came at the perfect time for me and my family. I was wrapping up my first year of full-time teaching, a year that had proved rather difficult for personal, familial, communal, ecclesial, and financial reasons. I’ll spare the gory details except to note that a move away from a deep community in the affordable Midwest to the isolation and expense of the Bay Area, coupled with the need to temporarily rehome our beloved dog, the inestimable Professor Argyle P. Woodford, was taxing. It was bad enough that I’d decided to give it another year, after which, if things had not markedly improved, I would leave academia and find something else to do with myself. Taking on the editorship cannot account for all of the improvements that came to our life at that crucial moment, but it did play a role. My wife’s employment clicked into place with a job she loves, we were able to move into a place that would allow us to keep a dog — thus ending the exile of the “Avignon Pup-acy” — and so on and so forth. Editing Covenant was an ingredient in salvaging my career and my family’s overall wellbeing.
And what a ride it’s been. Working as an editor has joys and frustrations that only those behind the editor’s desk can truly appreciate. To see the wind catch the sails of an excellent piece, or to watch a promising but not ready for primetime essay go through iterative growth until it’s ready to see the light of day and make its important contribution, are eminently satisfying. Similarly, the opportunity to foster public discourse, to help give shape to vital conversations affecting the life of my church, the Communion of churches of which it is part, and, beyond both, the wider church catholic is a high calling and a great honor. I’ll leave the frustrations to the side. It is a part of the editor’s calling to bear those in silence, in deference to the platform and the authors, though I do metaphorically give anyone else who’s done this work a knowing look and say, “real ones know.”
There are so many moments of which I’m proud from my editorial tenure, during which time Covenant published 1,440 essays. We published our first genuinely interreligious essay, a Muslim reflection on the Blessed Virgin Mary. We tackled such hot topics as how churches were weathering the storm of the COVID-19 pandemic, or protests concerning police brutality, or how to approach the questions of race and racism. While my political commitments are decidedly leftward (I sometimes joke about how frustrating it is to live in California and have all these liberals to the right of me), I hope that we’ve published a fair representative spread of outlooks and perspectives on these issues.
One of the particularly cool things about editing Covenant is that one day I may be working with and publishing work from theologians of the highest stature within and beyond our Communion, and then the next, featuring the work of a faithful parish priest, or a layperson whom no one has ever heard of. While we are not singular in this regard, I do think we’re relatively unique in having that sort of range in what we offer and from whom.
Relatedly, as I look back, one of the themes of my time as editor is an attempt to broaden our scope. While The Living Church and Covenant have a (largely earned) reputation for conservatism, this is only a partial truth. Our ranks are not monolithic, and a considerable part of our mission is to eschew partisan factionalism and instead foster open and authentic dialogue within the church and the Communion, and beyond. In keeping with this mandate, I have sought to feature authors and essays that move beyond our perceived party line, sometimes to the consternation of those who’d like us to just be a bunch of conservative Episcopalians — no Catholics or progressives welcome, thank you very much! In general, though, I have judged this broadening to be well-received, and at the very least worth the cost of sometimes fraught receptions.
During my five years at the helm, we have also expanded our roster of regular contributors, with a particular eye toward diversity (racial, gender, and geographic), and now boast authors from Africa, Asia, the Middle East, the Pacific, and, of course, the Canadian, American, and British core that one would expect when dealing with Anglicanism and the Episcopal Church.
I have not shied away from controversy in the role, attracting umbrage from all points along the political and ideological spectrum. While there was a time that I’d have said that if you’re being attacked by both the left and the right, it’s a good sign you’re doing the right thing, I don’t necessarily subscribe to that notion any longer. It’s possible to be so wrong that even folks who disagree on most else can clearly see it. However, I have tried to operate with clarity within the mission of The Living Church and Covenant. We face fraught, vexing, and divisive issues, and the only faithful way forward is to find a way forward together, forgoing schism or coercion, and instead walking in the way of communion, of charity, and of persuasion. Our conservative reputation notwithstanding, in the end our mandate and mission is not to be conservative, but to help all Anglicans — and, beyond Anglicanism, all Christians — of whatever party persuasion to hold one another fast, even amid our disagreements, for the sake of that unity for which Jesus Christ prayed, that unity for which he died. I know for a certainty that I’ve not always gotten this right during my editorship, but I take comfort in knowing that this has been my consistent aim.
And now, consistent with that aim, the time has come for me to hang up my editorial hat, and to mix the metaphor by passing the baton to my successor, the Rev. Dr. Calvin Lane. Cal is a fine church historian, and brings a depth of pastoral wisdom, gained through years of parish ministry, into the mix. When I spoke with him about the realities of the work involved in editing Covenant and heard his vision for how he’d like to see this online journal develop, I was confident that I’d be leaving the publication in worthy, competent hands.
For all things there’s a season, and the season for me to edit Covenant is drawing to its close. Having given five years to the endeavor, I’m satisfied with what I’ve done, and I think I’ve done just about all that it’s in me to do. As I’ve reached middle age, I’ve had the growing conviction that life is all too brief. The promise of the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come notwithstanding, there’s a truth that we only get this one life. There are other tasks, callings, and responsibilities that I want to devote myself to, and allowing Cal to take the reins will free precious time to do so. I’m so grateful for the time I’ve had to do this work, and I’m so hopeful for the time that remains to me to work on other things.
Orate pro me, amici.
Bless you on your way, Gene. Many thanks indeed for your faithfulness, hard work, collegiality, and creativity.
Thank you Gene for your faithfulness. In the spirit of your faithfulness, I look forward to seeing where Cal’s vision will take Covenant. Godspeed.
Thank you, Gene, for your tireless service – it is a pleasure to work together – and blessings for the next chapter!
I have been so grateful for your comradeship, as a coworker, a co-editor, and the editor of my own work, too. I’m blessed to know you, Gene. God speed you to all the good things stored up for you in him!
May blessing abound for you, Gene, in those other endeavors to which you feel called.