"I don't want to be known for being the first black bishop of Maryland, but as the first 'green' bishop," said Sutton, adding that he had an environmental conversion experience in South Africa, when he saw the devastation that climate change can cause.
That could mean figuring out ways to reduce the church's use of resources or supporting a major environmental project in the area. He has testified before Congress about global warming and plans to continue speaking out publicly.
Sutton also dreams of starting an Episcopal school in Baltimore for low-income children. "I'm particularly concerned about those who have been left behind," he said.
The ills of Baltimore, where he will be based, are on his mind as he completes his move and explores the city's neighborhoods. The fissures of society - rich and poor, black and white, old and young, highly educated and poorly educated - are always more concentrated in cities. "I want to be at the intersection of those societal divides," he said. "The way of Jesus is trying to heal divisions and break down walls and reconcile all that is broken." That's a tall order at a time when there is much healing to do within the Episcopal Church, which has been deeply rattled in recent years by questions about same-sex unions and gay clergy.
The dispute was accelerated by the 2003 consecration of the Rt. Rev. Gene Robinson, an openly gay man, as bishop of New Hampshire. In the wake of Robinson's election, some traditional congregations placed themselves under the oversight of foreign bishops.
"We bless animals. We bless ships. Why can't we bless the union of two people in love?" Sutton said. "The church is struggling to find a way to bless those in committed, monogamous relationships no matter what their sexual orientation, and I support the effort to find a way to do that."
Despite these divides, he believes there is a way for the church to move forward. As he sees it, the internal fight is fundamentally about embracing the new versus holding onto the old: "This is a church that can hold onto both and, even when we disagree, we can pray together and work together. ... If the church can't do that, why would anyone want to come?"
The Rev. Howard R. Anderson, president and warden of the Cathedral College at the National Cathedral, is such an unmitigated fan of Sutton that he choked up when speaking about him.
"Baltimore is really lucky. This guy is a star, and he's a mensch. He's the real item," he said. "He's larger than life, energetic, funny. Just a person who is so grounded."
He also described his colleague as potentially controversial because "he's not a shrinking violet and he's not risk-averse."
Sutton likewise recognizes the perils of striving to be what Anderson calls a "bishop of the streets."
"Everyone will be mad at me sometime," Sutton conceded. "Some will believe I'm moving too quickly in favor of change. Some will believe I'm so conservative and not moving fast enough. They give you a good seat and honor you, and then they get mad at you. That's what it means to be bishop."
rona.marech@baltsun.com
