Bishop Coburn at 1984 diocesan bicentennial celebration on Boston Common (Boston Globe photo)

“John Coburn was a giant among us.”

“He was a great leader and a graceful man.”

“Caring friend…one of the reasons I became a priest.”

“Leader in the church’s participation in God’s global mission.”

“Blessed to know and love him.”

You are invited to add prayers and remembrances, and read those shared by others, using the Comment button below.

His life was celebrated at a funeral service on Friday, Aug. 14 at St. Anne’s-in-the-Fields Church in Lincoln; a subsequent service of thanksgiving will be celebrated on Saturday, Oct. 3 at 3 p.m. at the Cathedral Church of St. Paul (138 Tremont Street) in Boston.

The Rt. Rev. John Bowen Coburn (Karsh, Ottawa photo)

A national figure widely known for how he presided over church policymaking in tumultuous times, Coburn was many other things to many people over his long life and varied ministry:  scholar, writer, teacher and chaplain; priest, dean and bishop; husband, father, grandfather; counselor, pastor, colleague and friend.  In their recollections, those who knew him well focus less on the fact that he was a bishop and more on the qualities that made him the right one for his time. 

He is remembered as a consummate church politician who brought a deep prayer life to bear on deliberations over contentious issues of the day.  An early advocate and behind-the-scenes agent for women’s ordination, he was seen by many opponents on the issue as a steady and fair arbiter in the church’s highest councils.  While representing the establishment during a period of popular distrust of historic institutions, he preached a social Gospel and had a heart for the urban poor.  Intellectual and well read, he was also plainspoken in prayer and eloquently matter-of-fact in his teaching, writing and oratory. 

“We are deeply saddened at the death of John Coburn, who was a friend and pastor to so many people in the Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts and across the Episcopal Church,” the Rt. Rev. M. Thomas Shaw, SSJE, Bishop of Massachusetts, said in a statement.  “He made lasting contributions to the wider church through his writings and his preaching, but particularly through his unparalleled and precedent-setting leadership as the president of the church’s General Convention House of Deputies during years when controversial issues of prayerbook revision and women’s ordination were being decided.  He would say of ministry, ‘You are never done.  Christ’s ministry is never over.’  John’s was a ministry of grace, and he has done it.”

John Bowen Coburn was born Sept. 27, 1914, at Danbury, Conn., the son of the Rev. Aaron Cutler Coburn and Eugenia Bowen Woolfolk.  He graduated as valedictorian in 1931 from the Wooster School, founded by his father, and went on to receive his bachelor’s degree from Princeton University in 1936.  He then spent three years teaching English and biology at Robert College in Istanbul, Turkey, where he met Ruth Alvord Barnum.  Her father, Henry Huntington Barnum, one of six children born to missionaries in eastern Turkey during the late 19th century, had also been a teacher at Robert College.  Ruth had given up her studies at Middlebury College in order to return to Turkey and care for her ailing father when she met John Coburn.  They married on May 26, 1941.

Coburn graduated from Union Theological Seminary in New York in 1942 and began serving that year as an assistant minister at Grace Church in New York City.  He was ordained a deacon in January of 1943 and a priest in July of that same year by Bishop Benjamin M. Washburn.

From 1944 to 1946, he served as a chaplain in the U.S. Navy Reserves at the naval air station in Hutchinson, Kan., and in the Pacific theatre aboard the USS Sheridan.

Upon his return, he was called as rector of Grace Church in Amherst, where he served until 1953, acting also as a chaplain and lacrosse coach at Amherst College.

In 1953 he was named dean of Trinity Cathedral in Newark, N.J.  Ruth Coburn recalled in a 1986 Episcopal Times article that, though her husband was eager to be involved in urban ministry, the move from Amherst to Newark wasn’t easy with their four small children, Thomas, Judith, Michael and Sarah.  Their fifth child, Cynthia, born in Newark, died suddenly at 19 months.  The experience led John Coburn to write Anne and the Sand Dobbies, a book for children and their parents about death and grief, which was published in 1964. 

Coburn went on to serve as dean, from 1957 to 1969, of Episcopal Theological School (now Episcopal Divinity School) in Cambridge.  During a sabbatical year at the end of his tenure there, he taught English to teenagers in the Urban League’s Harlem street academies.  He then accepted a call as rector of St. James’s Church in New York City, where he served until his election as bishop in May of 1975. 

Coburn was at the time the president of the Episcopal Church’s House of Deputies, and he delayed his consecration so that he could preside at the General Convention held in September 1976 in Minneapolis.  Foreseeing the controversy over two major issues coming before that convention—prayerbook revision and the ordination of women—he called together in late 1975 a council of advice made up of representative leaders from the House of Deputies, and in doing so, set the first of many precedents for conventions to follow.  [See "Minneapolis to Minneapolis:  He Was Still Leading"]

Coburn was consecrated a bishop on Oct. 2, 1976, in McHugh Forum at Boston College before a congregation estimated at 5,000.  In addition to the then-presiding bishop, John M. Allin, participants included former presiding bishops Henry Knox Sherrill (ninth bishop of Massachusetts) and John E. Hines.

The Episcopal News Service reported that in his sermon that day, Hines said to Coburn:  “You have served as dean of a radical theological school that has deservedly influenced the theology and social teachings of the church.  You surrendered that to literally walk the streets of Harlem.  And for seven years you guided the complex relationships of a durable church, all the while spewing out creative books.”  As president of the House of Deputies for nine years, Hines said, Coburn “cajoled deputies out of their petulance and on occasion shamed bishops out of their preoccupations.”

The Rev. Dr. Sheryl A. Kujawa-Holbrook, former academic dean of Episcopal Divinity School and now professor of religious education at Claremont School of Theology in Claremont, Calif., recalls meeting Coburn when she was still in seminary and new to the Episcopal Church.  Bishop Coburn ordained her to the priesthood in 1986.

“Looking back, I don’t think I would have been ordained, or not that long ago, if he wasn’t the bishop then,” she said by e-mail. “‘JBC’ liked smart women, and I never felt that I needed to hold back my own abilities so he would not feel threatened.  John was not a ‘teddy bear’ kind of bishop, which actually was a relief.  He was elegant and intellectual.  He had a wry sense of humor and, at times, inscrutable affect.  I have always appreciated that in the Episcopal Church I worked for him first; the experience was a great training ground in collegiality, polity and accountability.”

Coburn’s 1957 book, Prayer and Personal Religion, was reissued this year by Forward Movement Publications, and, in his preface, Richard H. Schmidt, Forward Movement’s editor and director, writes that when he first encountered the book 40 years ago, he was fresh out of seminary and full of academic ideas but ill-equipped to help his parishioners make a personal connection with God.  The problem, he said, was that he didn’t know how to pray.  “As I have grown and as times have changed, the method and content of my praying has changed as well, but it was John Coburn’s little book that got me started.  Its practical, down-to-earth, honest approach made the life of prayer feel, for the first time, possible for me.”

By e-mail, Schmidt added that though Coburn was conversant with the great classics of Christian spirituality, in Prayer and Personal Religion, he “wisely held some things back, knowing that anyone who embarked seriously on a life of prayer would find his or her way to them in due time.”

Coburn’s other publications include Viewpoints (1959); Minister:  Man in the Middle (1963);  Twentieth Century Spiritual Letters (1967); A Life to Live—A Way to Pray (1973); A Diary of Prayers:  Personal and Private (1975); The Hope of Glory (1976); Christ’s Life: Our Life (1978); Feeding Fire (1980); and Grace in All Things (1995).

In a 1986 Episcopal Times retirement tribute to Coburn, the then-president of Princeton University, William G. Bowen, described him as a “counselor, conscience, guide and friend,” and recalled that once, after chairing a curriculum committee meeting, Coburn wrote to him:  “In the final analysis, a person teaches himself; that is, he presents the truth of his discipline as it possesses him.” 

“For John,” Bowen said, “that truth expressed itself in his role as pastor.”

Coburn, who held numerous college, university and divinity school honorary degrees and had served on the board of directors for Corning Glass Works and the boards of trustees of Princeton and the Wooster School, retired in 1986.  The Coburns enjoyed retirement life in Brewster on Cape Cod before moving to Bedford in the 1990s.  Mrs. Coburn died in September of 2002.

“In retirement John had the chance to do some of the writing and reading he loved so,” Kujawa-Holbrook recalled.  “In recent years, as he grew very old, I think his deepest spirituality came to the surface.  He grew more porous, sometimes luminous.  Ruth was very present to him as the veil between this life and the next grew thin.  Despite all the years as a church politician, John had a strong monastic streak, and in his later years spent hours in prayer and silence.  I would bring him books and he would start reading them while I was there.  I eventually learned to give him the books close to the time I planned to leave anyway.  That is my last memory of him:  In his small room, surrounded by photographs of many generations of Coburns, and a few favorite books, in silence.”

He is survived by his children, Thomas B. Coburn of Warren, R.I., Judith Coburn Klein of Truro, Michael C. Coburn of Providence, R.I., and Sarah Coburn Borgeson of Sherborn, nine grandchildren and six great grandchildren.

Memorial contributions have been designated for the B-SAFE (Bishop’s Summer Academic and Fun Enrichment) program for Boston children and youth, in care of St. Stephen’s Church, 419 Shawmut Avenue, Boston, MA 02118.

Tracy J. Sukraw

John B. Coburn presiding over the House of Deputies, 1976

Updated 08/17/09:  Two reflections follow.  In “Minneapolis to Minneapolis,” the 31st president of the Episcopal Church’s House of Deputies, the Very Rev. George L. W. Werner, reflects on two momentous General Conventions, nearly three decades apart, and how the 27th president, John B. Coburn, influenced them both.  

In “Before and After We Seized the Microphone,” the Rev. Canon Edward W. Rodman, professor of pastoral theology and urban ministry at Episcopal Divinity School in Cambridge and for 30 years the canon missioner of the Diocese of Massachusetts, recalls some of what went on behind the scenes to bring about changes in the way the Episcopal Church made space for voices of people of color.

John B. Coburn, D.D., 27th President of the House of Deputies, had been elected bishop of Massachusetts 14 months previously, but had accepted election on the condition that he could finish his responsbilities at General Convention before his consecration.

Deputies numbering 1,007, from 132 dioceses, were registered. Many believed that, at this time, this was the largest legislative body in the world. Coburn was further challenged by the resignation of his vice president, the distinguished educator Charles V. Willie, in protest of the failure of the House of Deputies to support women’s ordination during the previous convention. Coburn’s counterpart in the House of Bishops, the Most Rev. John Maury Allin, would be experiencing his first convention as presiding bishop.

On the afternoon of Sept. 16, the chair of the legislative Committee on Ministry presented the recommendation to concur with the House of Bishops that the “…canons for the admission of Candidates and for the Ordination to the three Orders, Bishops, Priests and Deacons, shall be equally applicable to men and women.” Several amendments were offered and each failed. During the debate, 58 deputies rose to speak, alternating between affirmative and negative, before the time for debate was ended.

That morning, John Coburn received requests from Dean David Collins (Atlanta), Chair, and Judge Joseph Michael (New Hampshire), Vice Chair, of the Committee on Ministry that included a plea for five minutes of silent prayer preceding the vote. Coburn added a special twist. He asked that everyone in the hall—deputies, volunteers, staff, media crews and some 5,000 visitors—stand for five minutes of silent prayer. We could not fumble with the papers on our desks. We were swept up into a moment of deep awe and mystery.

Vote counting was by hand. Under the rules of the House of Deputies, a vote by orders was complex and basically guaranteed what I refer to as a “super majority” for passage.

It was late afternoon when the results of the vote were available. Before asking the secretary to read the tally, Coburn addressed the house with what I have since called “The Speech.” My paraphrase: “We do not do things as others do. We have welcomed moments of silence and prayer into our debate. We must remember that we are a community in Christ and our brothers and sisters on either side of us may strongly disagree with our position. Therefore, when the vote is announced, there will be no public demonstration, no cheering, no applause.”

The vote passed in both orders.

Following the secretary’s announcements, we left the house quietly with many holding on to friends who were on the other side of the argument.

Twenty-seven years later, General Convention again in Minneapolis on a Sunday afternoon: The issue was whether to consent to the election of V. Gene Robinson as bishop of New Hampshire, openly living in a partnership with another gay man. Again the galleries were filled, passions ran high and good and sincere Christians were at odds. I recreated “The Speech” to the best of my ability.

Immediately after we adjourned I met with more than 100 representatives of the press including several from other countries. The first two questions directed at me concerned the amazing demeanor of the house. Editorials followed with great praise for us, such as one in the Dallas Morning News which avoided comment on the issue but highly recommended our example of legislative demeanor to all. John Bowen Coburn was, in effect, still leading our house.

Return to Minneapolis, 1976: The special order to consider a first constitutional reading approving the draft proposal for a revised Book of Common Prayer began the morning following the women’s ordination vote, and it continued into the following day’s late afternoon. Dozens of deputies offered amendments. Thanks to Coburn’s non-anxious presence and his deft use of wisdom and humor, each proposal was gently considered. When every privilege of the special order, Robert’s Rules and parliamentary procedure had been exhausted, seven deputies still waited their turn to speak. Coburn looked at a tired membership and asked if we would indulge him and give them the opportunity for which each had so patiently waited. In the end, the vote was easily larger than the required two-thirds, and at least two of the final suggestions were adopted. Once again, the deputies had expressed their deep trust in their leader.

“Urbane, firm and humorous/godly man of prayer,/Masterfully tactful/consummately fair/Channel of the Spirit/who’s our unity/Heals our wounds and then declares/“feel free to disagree.”

Almus Thorp Jr. wrote a special canticle, to be sung to the tune of “Onward Christian Soldiers” which included this excellent description of our 27th president. When a deputy asked for personal privilege to offer a courtesy resolution praising the chair, Coburn ruled him out of order, and then, with that delightful twinkle in the eye and his delicious sense of humor, added, “Do I hear a second?”

As we said farewell, a thousand voices joined in the refrain: “God bless you John B. Coburn, Churchman super-plus/Even when you’re Bishop, you’ll be one of us!”

Less than two weeks later, John Bowen Coburn was consecrated bishop of Massachusetts.

The Very Rev. George L.W. Werner is dean emeritus of Trinity Cathedral, Pittsburgh and served as the 31st president of the House of Deputies (2000-2006).

Before and After We Seized the Microphone                                                                By The Rev. Canon Edward W. Rodman

My wife once asked John Coburn, when he had named himself the dean of St. Paul’s Cathedral in Boston, how he should be addressed, since as bishop he was “The Right Reverend” and as dean “The Very Reverend,” which we had known him as at the Episcopal Theological School (ETS).  His not-so-tongue-in-cheek reply was:  “The Very Right” (or, as those of us who knew him well could hear him saying to himself, “That’s just right.”)  Those of us who were around in those days all have our stories of John, and I suspect in most instances more than one. 

One of mine has to do with my arrival at ETS in 1964 as a young father of a new infant, whose wife and child had yet to join me at the seminary.  In the course of the welcoming tea at the Coburns’ house I shared my pitiful plight, wishing that my wife and child were with me as I entered a one-year discernment process at the school.  Without hesitation and with a twinkle in his eye, Coburn immediately shared with his wife, Ruth, my story and showed me unusual hospitality until my wife and child arrived.  (I suspect that their interest in me was not purely parental, because I had also let it drop that I had spent a summer in Turkey two years previously, and they insisted that I come to dinner several times so that their children could hear us speaking in Turkish.)  As a southern boy recovering from the slings and arrows of the Civil Rights Movement, I could not have imagined such grace and caring from such an important white man.  It was that caring that confirmed my desire to seek ordination and complete my studies at ETS.  That is not to say, of course, that there were not ups and downs in our relationship during this period, as he, like my mother, was not totally convinced of my vocation and found ways to keep me humble and honest with him.  This lesson in dealing with power has served me well over the years.  

When Coburn had left ETS to teach in Harlem and become rector of St. James’s in New York, I had gone to New Haven to work at a predominantly white parish under the tutelage of one of John’s friends, Gerald Gilmore.  It was during this period that he became the president of the House of Deputies and I had become involved in helping to organize the Union of Black Clergy and Laity (UBCL), later known as the Union of Black Episcopalians.  Our paths crossed initially at South Bend, Ind., at the Special General Convention.  The UBCL had determined that an effort would be made to present the Black Manifesto at this gathering, and since I knew Coburn, I assumed the responsibility of seeking to negotiate that presentation.

Needless to say, he was not impressed with my argument and suggested that we get a thousand copies made and he would see if he could get them distributed.  Clearly this was not satisfactory to my more militant colleagues, including a fiery young laywoman from Philadelphia, Barbara Harris.  Upon hearing my report she, in her inimitable fashion, said, “We should just seize the microphone and do it.” 

Knowing John as I did, I pointed out that if this was to be the strategy, then it was critical that he be distracted from chairing the meeting so that the more affable and less combative John Hines would have to deal with our move.  This was accomplished, and the rest is history.  

What is not known is the tireless work that John Coburn then put in following that convention, prior to the regular convention a year later in Houston, to attempt a reconciliation, given the furor that had ensued from this action.  One of the more memorable such efforts was a gathering at the Princeton Club in New York, where he had asked me to assemble several of the key leaders of UBCL to see if we could find a way out of the morass.  He used all his charm and guile, which was considerable, to try and convince us that his approach would resolve the conflict in a mutually beneficial fashion. 

After he had presented his case over cigars and brandy, I suggested to my colleagues that we take a brief recess to consider our reply.  With deep regret they concurred with my suggestion that we reject his offer and come back to him with a counter offer at a later date.  His response was priceless.  Without losing his cool or showing any disrespect or frustration with us, he simply said, “I understand,” and indicated he would look forward to our counter proposal. 

The matter was resolved in Houston with a very sophisticated give and take that took both the church and UBCL off the hook and began a series of significant changes in the way in which the church made space for the voices of people of color.  (Those of you who would like to hear the whole story can find it in the publication Let there Be Peace Among Us- A Story of the First Twenty Years of UBE.)

The Rev. Canon Edward W. Rodman,John Seely Stone Professor of Pastoral Theology and Urban Ministry at Episcopal Divinity School in Cambridge, was for 30 years the canon missioner of the Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts.