I used to be a whiz at Trivial Pursuit because I remember names so well, but I didn't know this one. It came to me in a special edition of our diocesan newsletter, which calls itself a "Study Document for the Episcopal Church." It offers information supporting the ongoing "global conversation" on the well-known issues that threaten the unity of the Anglican Communion.

At first glance, I see the word conversation as a mere exercise in civility, but then I realize that, like related words converse (both verb and noun) and conversion, it holds within its origin and meaning the idea of turning around.

As an accomplished conflict avoider, I'm reading the document on the lookout for things that might help our fractious church members turn around and come together. (Notice that my emphasis is on other folks, since they are the ones who need help.)

As for me, I'm feeling smugly well informed, satisfied with my own viewpoints and comfortable with familiar concepts. I'm pleased to see one of my favorites, the via media, or middle way. But wait, it's expressed in something surprisingly unfamiliar -- the Collect for Richard Hooker's Day (Nov. 3):
O God of truth and peace, you raised up your servant Richard Hooker in a day of bitter controversy to defend with sound reasoning and great charity the catholic and reformed religion. Grant that we may maintain that middle way, not as a compromise for the sake of peace, but as a comprehension for the sake of truth. 

Your servant Richard Who? I can hardly take in the depth of the ideas and the beauty of the language for the shock of not knowing who Richard Hooker is. I'm a lifelong Episcopalian and a current vestry member, so how is it possible that I don't know this fellow who has his own day? Surely I've heard this prayer before, but obviously I've never really heard it.

Driven to the Internet, I see Richard Hooker described as the "closest counterpart in the Anglican-Episcopal denomination to Luther for Lutherans or Calvin for Presbyterians or Wesley for Methodists." His books on the Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity explain every aspect of Anglican doctrine, and I'm sure the vicar of my little church in Roxboro, North Carolina, has read them all.

Hooker defined the essential character of our early church as broad, tolerant and inclusive at a time when it was threatened by Roman Catholicism on one side and Protestant extremism on the other. He's credited with defending the Anglican cause against the Puritans who wanted to get rid of bishops and turn us into Presbyterians. When Hooker died in 1600, the pope said that his ideas would remain until the end of the world.

Even though I just met Richard Hooker and hardly know him, I'm struck by the way he acknowledged the diversity of ideas within the church as a strength, saying, "Carry peaceable minds, and you may have comfort by this variety." I can't help but think of Rowan Williams, Archbishop of Canterbury, who was recently quoted in TIME as saying that God intends that our church members "have something to learn even from the people we most dislike or instinctively mistrust." The reporter said it's a nice thought, but will it be enough to stop a split?

Well, I don't know. What I do know is that I've been finding myself less and less willing to talk about controversial topics, including this one. Most people tend to rant these days, and I just don't want to listen. I'm getting to be a lot like Dogbert who says in the Dilbert cartoon, "There's really no point in listening to other people. They're either going to be agreeing with you or saying stupid stuff."

So I'm grateful to Rowan Williams for his earnest efforts to keep the conversation going and to Richard Hooker for his timely, 400-year-old advice about "variety" and "peaceable minds." I'm also grateful to Richard Hooker for waking me up to a small inconvenient truth -- that, no matter how much I think I know, I still have a lot to learn.

Maybe I need to join the conversation.