"Taking a position" on such a divisive issue has always seemed so painfully un-Anglican to me. The Anglican way is to listen and embrace multiple positions. The Anglican way prefers compromise to confrontation. The Anglican way strives for the middle ground. Thus, whenever possible, particularly among people I do not know very well, I tend to suppress my own view of the issues and to project neutrality in public. I have always believed that I am supporting the silent majority in the middle, holding things together.

Then I visited Uganda, the country where I was born and raised. It was a very emotional and very intentional going-back-to-my-roots experience; an attempt to reconnect with the church in which my faith-journey began and developed through my childhood and youth. I have been back to Uganda and connected with the Church of Uganda many times. This time, though, was different. The level of intentionality was higher, more intense. It was also a homecoming in which I was, at the same time, representing the Canadian Church in a way that I had never done before. Add to all of this the growing controversy in the Anglican Communion over human sexuality and you might understand why I was intent on putting a great deal of pressure on myself to hold things together.

I told myself that if I was to achieve this goal I would have to do my best not to offend anyone. Avoiding the controversy on human sexuality or - if cornered - maintaining a stubborn neutrality was part of the plan. My views on the subject - I suspected - were not likely to be in line with most people's perspective here and I was not about to feign agreement on a position I disagree with. Fence-sitting seemed like the safest and most agreeable alternative.

The strategy worked well for a while. And even though some people were visibly frustrated by my determination to avoid an issue of such great importance to Anglicans around the world, I managed to get by until I met Canon Luyombya, a senior clergy in the Diocese of Namirembe. He and I had met a couple of times in the past but knew very little about each other.

Canon Luyombya was very keen to learn about the Anglican Church of Canada. I knew by his relentless curiosity that we were tittering on the brink. Soon enough the conversation took a sudden turn and we plunged in the minefield of human sexuality. The following is a translated version of the dialogue that ensued.

Luyombya: I hear that you people now support homosexuality in the Church
Kawuki: I wouldn't put it that way. It is a complicated issue but with God's grace all is well.
Luyombya: What is so complicated about it? You either do or do not support homosexuality?
Kawuki: Well, it is not that simple. We're praying for God's guidance...
Luyombya: Isaac... You're dancing around an issue that is plain black and white - I don't understand. Is it not true that there are people in the Anglican Church of Canada who support homosexuality?
Kawuki: There are people on all sides of the issue. We are trying to listen to all the voices on the subject...
Luyombya: Do you support homosexuality?
Kawuki: I beg your pardon?
Luyombya: Do you support homosexuality?
Kawuki: Canon, I don't think it is appropriate for me to say...This is a very sensitive...
Luyombya: Please quit hiding behind the rhetoric and tell me what you think? Do you support homosexuality?
Kawuki: Well, I support gay and lesbian rights.
Luyombya: Then you support homosexuality?
Kawuki: If you must put it that way, then yes.

At that point something extraordinary happened. I was expecting a full-scale attack on me or at the very least that he'd turn around and flee. He did neither. Instead, for a few agonizing moments, he stared at me completely stunned, perhaps hoping that I might retract. But he recovered quickly and said, "Well. At least now I know who I'm talking to."

The conversation continued.

I relate this story because it reflects a dynamic in the Anglican Communion that, I believe, is frustrating rather than facilitating communication. It begins when separation anxiety forces one party to avoid doing anything that may be presumed offensive by the other. Toning down certain values that may not sit well with the other is assumed to be a fair price to pay in order to maintain the relationship. The prospect of total capitulation, however, prevents that same party from conceding to the other's position and risking the rupture of their own internal conflict. Fence-sitting, couched in the flamboyant language of careful observation, listening for spiritual wisdom and seeking guidance, appears to be the only viable option at this point.

But the real reason for sitting on the fence is flawed. It is not out of the need - as claimed - to clarify issues or listen to some guidance. It is to prevent separation; to keep the relationship alive at any cost. The irony is that my fence-sitting is more frustrating to the other than their knowing for sure that I am firmly grounded in what I believe. As long as I am sitting on the fence, projecting uncertainty, it will be the other's obligation to do what they can - beg, cajole, manipulate, threaten - whatever it takes to prevent my falling over to the "wrong" side.

That is a stressful position to put others in. It frustrates communication because the perceived urgency to rescue the uncertain party takes precedence over any casual exploration of the relationship. But once the parties know where they stand, once they realize that they are both firmly grounded in what they believe, the focus will shift to the question: how do we continue the conversation. Trust me, the conversation will continue sooner or later, even if it takes some time-out to get there. Sooner or later, the conversation will continue.

There is nothing wrong with listening for guidance or waiting for the wisdom to understand the will of God on the issues before us. But for anyone out there projecting "neutrality" simply out of fear of offending others I say, it is time to step down. This kind of "neutrality" is counterproductive. What is needed is for us to explain as best as we can why and how we are grounded where we are.

---Kawuki Mukasa works with the Diocese of Toronto and holds a PhD in Theology and Sociology from St. Michael's College, The University of Toronto