Derek Olsen on Catholic Anglicanism: Christology and Sacramental Theology Matter

Dr. Derek Olsen, who blogs at haligweorc, recently posted some thoughts on the future of Anglo-Catholicism in the Episcopal Church. In response to a comment on that post, he offered another clarifying post. As I've come to expect, he nails it: 

What do I care about? Resurgent Arianism in the church really bothers me; approval and promotion of teachers who suggest that Jesus was just an enlightened revolutionary teacher rather than God Incarnate bothers me. Casual modalism bothers me. Indeed, causual modalism implying that Jesus has no role as Creator or Sanctifier further reinforces Arian tendencies. Insidious Gnosticism and the notion that the faith is about an individual’s intellectual assent to a set of ideas rather than the communal living of embodied beliefs bothers me. Disconnecting the sacraments from a life of discipleship bothers me. The Eucharist is a sacrificial meal of reconciliation that draws us deeper into our baptismal vows and commitments. It is a sign of and for the baptized community and those who wish to receive it should be invited into the community through the font. Concerns about Christology have real, practical, pastoral implications; sacramental theology matters in how we see God at work in the world around us. This isn’t a “superior version of the faith”—it’s the faith as we’ve been taught it. I have a duty to teach it to my children and, by extension, to have confidence that the other members of the church who are teaching my children hold it too.

Read it all here.


Peace of Christ.

A Book Review and Reflection: "Those Episkopols"

I read Those Episkopols, by the Rev. Dr. Dennis Maynard, as part of an on-going adult Sunday school class at my parish church.  For the most part I enjoyed it.  The author presents a short, informal, and readable introduction to the Episcopal Church, based on his own experience as a priest in the Church over the last four decades.  He writes that “This book is written out of a profound love and appreciation for the Episcopal Church” (pg. 6) and that “the preceding chapters are dedicated to answering some of the most frequently asked questions this priest has received from inquirers.  This is not intended to be a comprehensive study of Anglicanism or The Episcopal Church.” (pg. 87) 

Recognizing the book for what it is and what it is not, I felt the author did a fairly commendable job, though there were a few typos that I found annoying, and at times the organization and content of the chapters seemed a bit haphazard.  The author’s writing style was sometimes overly repetitive, in my opinion.  My greatest criticism, however, concerns the perceived demeanor in which the content is presented.  Perhaps it is inevitable that a book of this nature will rely heavily on generalizations and stereotypes, but I was bothered by the extent to which the author contrasted the Episcopal Church with other churches, stating essentially that “we are not like those other Christians, thank God”.  A prominent example is his mention on more than one occasion of the Episcopal Church as “the thinking person’s religion”, thereby implying that all other branches of the Church discourage their people from approaching their faith intelligently, curiously, and rigorously.  I understand why people say this, but the broader implication is ludicrous, and this kind of caricature is not accurate, charitable, or becoming of a church which prides itself on resisting the urge to give simplistic answers to complex questions (as Rev. Dr. Maynard asserts elsewhere).

That said, there was much that I did enjoy in the book.  The author does a fine job presenting a compelling view of the life and culture of the Episcopal Church, and there were plenty of phrases and paragraphs that eloquently and succinctly expressed the reasons why I also love this church.  For example, I loved what the author had to say about The Book of Common Prayer:

When we come together for common prayer we are very intentional about the utilization of this book.  It contains the wisdom of the ages.  Some of these prayers are thousands of years of age.  Some of them were familiar to the lips of Jesus.  These prayers are most appropriate for public worship because these are the prayers that we have all agreed on.  We hold these prayers in common. When we pray these words we are verbalizing words that we have all agreed on.  We all believe these prayers so we can pray them without hesitation and in one voice … Basically, The Book of Common Prayer protects us from one another’s creativity, political leanings, prejudices, bad theology and current passion. (pg. 46)

And:

The Book of Common Prayer solidly ties us to the historic Catholic understanding of worship.  The Prayer Book is not an alternative service book.  If you’re going to be an Episcopalian you will use the words of The Book of Common Prayer in the services of worship.  The Book of Common Prayer, not doctrines and dogmas, is the most visible unifying symbol in the Episcopal Church. (pg. 54)

I can stand up and shout amen to that!

There were also passages in which I heartily agree with Rev. Dr. Maynard, even as I remain skeptical about the extent to which his assertions are in fact accurate.  Indeed, the preceding excerpt about the BCP could be considered an example; though I think it is correct to say his observations here are true generally, the use of alternative liturgical resources (e.g. Enriching Our Worship) and even shameless disregard for the rubrics of the BCP seem to have become more frequent in TEC today, a trend I personally find troubling.  Another example:

Because the Holy Eucharist is a great mystery Episcopalians resist any effort to introduce sentimentalism into the service.  We even become hostile to any effort to make the service of Holy Communion faddish or cute.  Our English heritage becomes very apparent when it comes to diminishing this great mystery.  Anglicans steadfastly believe that the celebration of the Lord’s Supper must be done with decency and order. (pg. 55)

In reading that, unfortunately, I couldn’t help but think of the appearance a few years ago of various “themed Eucharists” (e.g. Seuss-charist, Clown-charist, Pirate-charist, and any other of which I am mercifully unaware).  Of course, it’s true that these travesties are not reflective of the whole of TEC, but rather got attention and some much deserved criticism for their astounding irreverence and incomprehensibly bad taste.  But the fact that enough Episcopalians somewhere though this was a good idea is still disconcerting.  Thankfully, it seems that fad was short-lived and very limited.

Toward the end the book, the Rev. Dr. Maynard offers some thoughts about the Episcopal Church’s focus on welcome: “The Episcopal Church welcomes you”. It’s a mantra that can be controversial, in that we run the risk of turning our church into an organization of bland, purposeless gatherings if we go so far as to subject everything (including the revealed truths of the very faith we proclaim) beneath a generic “welcome”. Such a welcome offers no transformation of life or hope of heaven. While the author acknowledges as much when he writes “there is a need in the world for the Church to hold up the plumb line of God … standards against which we must measure our behavior” (pg. 84) he nevertheless affirms this attitude of radical welcome.

If God is calling the Episcopal Church to be the branch of His Body that places love above judgment and proclamation above prophecy, than it may well be the role that we need to embrace with enthusiasm. The voices reminding us of our sinfulness and the need to condemn sin are indeed plentiful … Perhaps God is calling the Episcopal Church to bid welcome to those who would not feel welcome any place else. (pg. 85)

I have begun to feel more at peace about the Episcopal Church and her future, despite my disagreements and disappointments with much of the current leadership and their vision (or lack thereof). Because, like the author, I am suspecting that who we are now as a church may indeed be a reflection of God’s calling, to be a church that errs on the side of generosity and openness. Undoubtedly, sometimes we’ll get it wrong, perhaps go too far in our attempts to accommodate or incorporate; accordingly, we must always move humbly, with fear and trembling. But if the Episcopal Church sometimes speaks too little about sin or fails to proclaim her doctrine with sufficient clarity, there are plenty of other churches that have and will continue to more than compensate in that regard. So perhaps the generosity of TEC is a needed corrective. I do believe that the whole of the Church (Catholic, Protestant, Orthodox) is needed if we are to more fully apprehend and enter into the life of God. Each branch of the Church Catholic possesses its own unique strengths and insights, and we all must learn from one another as we embrace each other in love. The openness of the Episcopal Church can indeed be a source of frustration and difficulty, because it means we are willing to live with questions, to entertain variant ideas about God and the faith of the Church, etc., while still seeking to maintain communion with one another. We are in the midst of an era in TEC and in the Anglican Communion when those bonds of communion are being severely tried amidst many disagreements. Many have felt called to leave TEC or the Anglican family altogether. I know there are those who feel that they have finally “come home to Orthodoxy” or at last found “the fullness of the faith” in Rome (while not willing to concede the point, I am, in good Anglican fashion, willing to entertain the idea that these may be correct). But I also believe and have heard testimony that many of those who have journeyed thus would probably never have entered the Church at all had they not first found a sincere welcome in the Episcopal Church. I think it is indeed true that no small number “who would not feel welcome any place else” have been welcomed into the Episcopal Church, and have there encountered God in His people and the Lord Jesus Christ, and have there been born anew into the family of the Church and introduced to the riches of her tradition.

Lastly, the Rev. Dr. Maynard closes with a heartfelt testimony of his love for the Episcopal Church, despite her recent trials and schisms.  I close with his words now, because I feel like they could just as truly be my own:

I love this Church’s determination to balance scripture, tradition, and reason.  I love her majestic worship, the mystery of her sacraments, and the emphasis on God’s love and forgiveness.  I love her courage to stand up to the forces of bigotry and to fight for the equality of all people.  I love her sensitivity to the poor, the sick, and the needy.  I love her great hymns that have outlived the catchy jingles and campfire songs of every generation …

Oh, I do get angry with this Church of ours.  I often wonder if those in authority have lost touch with reality.  I have come to fear the religion section of the newspaper lest there be another article on my beloved Church that puts us in a most unfavorable light.  I pray hardest when the bishops gather, and pray harder still when the General Convention meets.  I fear which special interest group shall prevail, and I wonder just how many more storms this old ship can endure before she does, in fact, fragment. 

I do not like all that she does.  I do not agree with all who attempt to speak for her.  There are many times I feel out of step with the rest of the band.  On occasion I do resist the newest step of marching orders.  But leave her?  Leave the Episcopal Church?  Leave the Church of my conversion, confirmation, and ordination?  No, as far afield as she may go on occasion, I could not leave her.  I love this wonderful Church.  I want to spend the rest of my life in her bosom, die in her arms, and have the faithful remember me in their prayers. (pg. 82)

Peace of Christ.

Vigil at the Altar of Repose

Then he said to them, "My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.  Stay here and keep watch with me."          ~Matthew 26:38

This year, my parish again provided the opportunity to take part in a "vigil at the altar of repose".  In this centuries-old tradition, the bread and wine for the Holy Communion on Good Friday are consecrated at the Maundy Thursday liturgy, since there is no celebration of the Eucharist on Good Friday.  The consecrated Sacrament is then placed somewhere apart from the main altar.  At this "altar of repose", parishioners are invited to keep vigil, to keep watch for one hour or more with the Lord, present in the Sacrament.

Our "altar" was in the parish hall.  There is a slightly raised platform set into the wall at the far end of the hall, which houses a stained glass window from the sanctuary of the original 19th-century building, as well as some other woodwork from that church.  Here several members of the parish had brought in potted plants, shrubs, and candle lanterns, to create a garden atmosphere.  The Sacrament was placed on a small table in the center of this area, and covered with a white linen cloth.  There was a sign-up sheet in the parish hall, on which individuals could mark down an hour in which to keep vigil, from the end of the service on the evening of Maundy Thursday, through to 12 o'clock noon on Good Friday.

I signed up for an early morning hour.  With family responsibilities, it made the most sense for me to take the 6 a.m. to 7 a.m slot.  Still, I kind of felt like I was cheating, since I prefer to be up and about in the early morning anyway, as opposed to a late night hour when, no doubt, I would find myself struggling with Peter, James, and John to keep my heavy eyes open.  It didn't help that I was late.  And I had my morning mug of coffee with me.  So, yeah, talk about sacrificial devotion.

One of the songs from the previous evening's service was the Taize chant "Stay With Me".  I was singing it as I settled in for my vigil.  The first few times through, for some reason, I was rather absent-mindedly ascribing the words to the apostles.  Perhaps I was confusing the chant with the hymn "Abide With Me", and the petition of the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, as they urge the Lord to stay with them for the evening.  Of course, that episode is not the inspiration for the Taize chant.  The words are those of our Lord in the garden -- a sober reminder of the agony of soul that, as true man, He willingly endured for our sake.

The hour passed quickly -- too quickly, actually.  Part of the reason, I think, was that it took a while for me to settle in and quiet my spirit.  I was late arriving, as I said.  When I did get there, I needed to use the restroom.  Then I went to get a light for the several candles scattered around the altar, as it was still quite dark out.  During this early busy-ness, as I went several times to and from the altar, I felt as if I was letting Jesus down.  Believing in the Real Presence of Christ in the Sacrament, I felt especially conscious of His presence, and also of the fact that I was not duly attending to Him.  All He asked was that I sit and keep watch with Him there in the garden for one hour, but I seemed unable to fully grant even this small request.  The experience kindled in me a desire to cultivate a more conscious awareness of the presence of Christ in my daily life.  For though I believe Him to be specially present in the Sacrament, I believe also His word to the disciples: "Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age."  And as the Psalmist said, "Where can I go then from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?"  Truly, God is ever present, irradiating all of creation, if I would but open the eyes of faith to behold Him.  Incidentally, it is interesting to me that a very catholic concept (that of the Real Presence) has reawakened in me a longing for that most evangelical spiritual reality, the personal and ever present friendship of Jesus.

Now, of course, is Eastertide.  And as John Chrysostom adjured me at the Great Vigil of Easter, this is not the time to lament my own unworthiness, but to rejoice in His victory.  Too soon though, Ascension Day will be here.  And then, even as we wonder at His glory, we will indeed be the ones pleading, "Lord, stay with us."

Peace.

       

E.B. Pusey: Holy Communion

Among the many ways in which he influenced the course of Anglican spirituality, Dr. Pusey was one of the foremost advocates for a return to a doctrine of the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist (I recently published a blog post on the same).  An indication of both the effectiveness of his preaching and the opposition he faced on this issue in 19th century England is the fact that he was barred from the pulpit for two years after preaching what the leadership of Oxford University considered to be a dangerous and erroneous sermon, "The Holy Eucharist, a Comfort to the Penitent".  The following excerpt is from another of his sermons on the subject of the Holy Communion.

The Holy Supper is not a gazing up into heaven after Christ.  No thoughts of Christ, however holy; no longings after Him, however sanctified; no wish to be with Him, however purified; no thoughts on His cross and Passion and Precious Death, however devout; no devotion of self to Him; no acknowledgment of Him as our Priest, Prophet, King, and God; no setting Him up in our hearts as (with the Father and the Holy Ghost) the One Object of our love; no reliance upon Him as the only Anchor of our soul, however real, comes up to the truth.  We ought to meditate on Him, long for Him, desire to be with Him, rely on Him, devote ourselves to Him; pledge ourselves to obey Him, and do what we have pledged.  We should look for His coming, avow Him, be ready in all things, in suffering as in joy, to be partakers with Him, partakers of His Cross, and Death, and Burial.  All this we should be at all times, but all this does not make us yet partakers of Him, for man cannot make himself a partaker of Him; He must give Himself.  As He gave Himself to the Death upon the Cross for our sins, so in the Holy Eucharist must He, if we are to be partakers of Him, give Himself to us.  We have of Him only what He giveth.  All Christian graces, although His work, are but messengers to prepare the way before Him.  Hope but putteth us in that expectant, longing state which He rewardeth; Faith but openeth the door to receive Him; Love or Charity but cleanseth the chamber of our hearts, which He is to inhabit; Repentance but breaketh the heart, and maketh it that contrite or broken spirit, wherein it pleaseth Him to dwell, but all this is not yet He.  He, "the Bread of Life which came down from heaven" must come down also into our hearts, if we are to be partakers of Him.  The Communion is not a mere going up of our hearts to Christ, but a coming down of Him to us.

E. B. Pusey, Parochial Sermons, volume III 

    

Christ in the Eucharist

"For My flesh is true food, and My blood is true drink.  He who eats My flesh and drinks My blood abides in Me, and I in Him."

~ John 6:55-56

With the successive gospel readings from the sixth chapter of John over the past several Sundays, I've been thinking about Jesus as the Bread of Life.  Of course, every Sunday we believe that we gather to partake of this Bread in the Eucharist (i.e. the Lord's Supper, the Mass, Holy Communion),  "the holy food and drink of new and unending life in him", the sacrament whereby we are strengthened by God's grace and drawn into closer union with God in Christ.  The power and consolation of this central act of our worship has been made more real to me of late, as I've been consciously seeking to open myself more willingly to the Spirit and grow closer to Jesus.  I believe that in these earthy gifts of bread and wine, by God's grace I encounter the real presence of Christ.

It is curious to me that so many Christians lay such emphasis upon negating a sacramental theology of the Eucharist, that is, in stressing that "these are only symbols, and we only do this 'in remembrance'; there is no special grace or power to be received here" (incidentally, it's my understanding that the Greek word anamnesis has significantly deeper meaning than our English remembrance, a meaning that imparts living into the reality of a past event, not merely thinking about it.  I really need to learn Greek one of these days; I can only imagine how much it opens up the Scriptures).  Apart from the very early and continuing tradition of the church (a line of argument which unfortunately may not carry much weight with many Protestants) there is the testimony of Scripture.  I would even say that a view of the Lord's Supper as memorial only, to the point of denying the real presence of Christ, is not grounded in the Bible, but rather in a reaction to the perceived abuses and/or excesses of the church of the middle ages.  To be sure, there was much need for reform and renewal in the church of the sixteenth century, and it was in this context that the Protestant traditions were born.  Unfortunately, it is still the reactionary context in which many continue.  

But what do the Scriptures say?  In the synoptic gospels, Jesus speaks with little elaboration, "This is my body ... this is my blood."  Paul writes about the imperative of not drinking "the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner" in a passage that seems to make clear that we partake of a powerful spiritual reality in this meal, a reality that unites us truly, not just symbolically.  "Is not the cup of blessing which we bless a sharing in the blood of Christ?  Is not the bread which we break a sharing in the body of Christ?  Since there is one bread, we who are many are one body; for we all partake of the one bread."

And then there is Jesus as the Bread of Life in John's gospel.  Jesus says, "I am the living bread that came down out of heaven; if anyone eats of this bread, he shall live forever; and the bread also which I shall give for the life of the world is My flesh."  The crowd is incredulous; "How can this man give us His flesh to eat?"  I can imagine them arguing and scratching their heads, trying to make sense of it: "Well, this guy is obviously crazy! ... No, no, he must be speaking metaphorically ... Surely, you don't think he actually means what he is saying?"  And Jesus answers: "My flesh is true food, and My blood is true drink.  He who eats My flesh and drinks My blood abides in Me, and I in Him."  The message is not to be taken literally (Jesus is obviously not advocating cannibalism), but neither is this mere metaphor.  Here is a reality that goes deep, beyond what is seen, beyond what can be comprehended  rationally.  But it is a reality that gives eternal life and affects the union of man to God.  This is indeed a mystery, sacramentum.  The crowd, not surprisingly, responds, "This is a difficult statement; who can listen to it?" and many abandon him.

It is a difficult statement, and a hard thing to which Jesus calls us.  For, as my priest pointed out in her homily this morning, it is not only life to which Christ calls us, but death also, death to ourselves and the corruption of the world.  We eat of the Bread of Life even as we share the Cup of His Passion.  In the Eucharist we turn away from the dying things of this world, and take hold of that which is real.

We Christians separate ourselves from one another over so many things.  But it is truly sad that the very act which Our Lord commanded and gave us to draw us to Himself and one another in unity, has become such a cause of division.  Yet I believe that the Eucharist remains as God intended it, a sacrament of grace and union, and that He will even still draw us together around His table, that we who are many may find ourselves one in Christ. I pray that God hastens the day.  Peace.

And we earnestly desire thy fatherly goodness to accept this our sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, whereby we offer and present unto thee, O Lord, our selves, our souls and bodies.  Grant, we beseech thee, that all who partake of this Holy Communion may worthily receive the most precious Body and Blood of thy Son Jesus Christ, and be filled with thy grace and heavenly benediction; and also that we and all thy whole Church may be made one body with him, that he may dwell in us, and we in him, through the same Jesus Christ our Lord; 

By whom, and with whom, and in whom, in the unity of the Holy Ghost all honor and glory be unto thee, O Father Almighty, world without end.  AMEN.

 ~from Eucharistic Prayer II, Rite I, BCP  

Thoughts on "Open Communion" Part II

The grace which we have by the holy Eucharist doth not begin but continue life. No man therefore receiveth this sacrament before Baptism, because no dead thing is capable of nourishment. That which groweth must of necessity first live.~Richard Hooker Of the Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity 

A second point  made in the explanatory section of resolution C040 is that "the unfolding of the Divine Liturgy" provides all the spiritual preparation an individual needs in order "to receive the spiritual body and blood of Christ".  While I would be the last one to in any way seek to decrease an appreciation for the great spiritual realities to be encountered within the liturgy, it seems obvious that this statement rationalizes an "open table" at the cost of making baptism superfluous.  If simply experiencing the liturgy provides "whatever an individual needs for examination, repentance and forgiveness" in preparation for partaking of the sacrament that unites us to Christ and one another, then does baptism still serve any meaningful purpose?  Maybe it does, but I think it would certainly be understandable for a newcomer to be confused about baptism.  If the church were to officially endorse a policy of inviting the unbaptized to the Eucharistic table, then the clear message would seem to be that baptism, although preferable, is by no means necessary.  Is that the message we want to send about one of the two great sacraments given by Christ to His church?

Lastly, the resolution argues that "boldness in offering radical hospitality is our calling."  While I agree that the church is called to radical hospitality, I do not think that this means the church should feel compelled to invite the unbaptized to partake of the Eucharist.  The church can be hospitable in many ways: by inviting all to the liturgy; by making all feel welcome not only in the context of the services of the church, but in our everyday social interactions; even by inviting the unbaptized to the Eucharistic rail to receive a blessing.  But to partake of the bread and the cup is to partake of the very Body and Blood of Christ.  Though the specific ways of seeking to theologically articulate this mystery have varied, the church has always held to the belief that in the central act of the Eucharist, the church participates in a sacrament, a mystery in which we mortals are united to God and one another through the sacrifice of Christ.  The belief that this is the reality of the Eucharist is born out by both Scripture and tradition.  There are the plain words of Our Lord in the gospels: "This is My body ... this is My blood" (Matt. 26:26-28; Mark 14:22-24; Luke 22:19-20).  Paul expounds on the significance of these words in his First Letter to the Corinthians, proclaiming that "we who are many are one body; for we all partake of the one bread" (I Cor. 10:16-17), and warning against the real danger of receiving the bread and the cup "in an unworthy manner" (I Cor. 11:20-34).  It seems clear that this is no mere community supper.  The very early traditions of the church confirm this high view of the Eucharist as sacrament.  Saint Ignatius of Antioch (late first, early second century), in his letter to the Philadelphians, writes, "Take great care to keep one Eucharist.  For there is one flesh of our Lord Jesus Christ and one cup to unite us by his blood."  Saint Justin Martyr (second century) writes in his Apology:
"This food is called Eucharist with us, and only those are allowed to partake who believe in the truth of our teaching and have received the washing for the remission of sins and for regeneration ... We do not receive these gifts as ordinary food or ordinary drink.  But as Jesus Christ our Savior was made flesh through the word of God, and took flesh and blood for our salvation; in the same way the food over which thanksgiving has been offered through the word of prayer which we have from him - the food by which our blood and flesh our nourished through its transformation - is, we are taught, the flesh and blood of Jesus who was made flesh."
Saint Irenaeus (latter second century) writes, "For as the bread, which comes from the earth, receives the invocation of God, and then it is no longer common bread but Eucharist, consists of two things, an earthly and a heavenly; so our bodies, after partaking of the Eucharist, are no longer corruptible, having the hope of eternal resurrection" (Against Heresies).  And the examples go on and on throughout the history of the church.

Our own Book of Common Prayer, beautifully and powerfully drawn from both the Scriptures and the ancient liturgies of the church, gives clear assent to these teachings.  The "Exhortation" (pg. 316) recalls Paul's admonitions, stating "But if we are to share rightly in the celebration of those holy Mysteries, and be nourished by that spiritual Food, we must remember the dignity of that holy Sacrament."  In our liturgy we pray that "we, and all others who shall be partakers of this Holy Communion, may worthily receive the most precious Body and Blood of thy Son Jesus Christ, be filled with thy grace and heavenly benediction, and made one body with him, that he may dwell in us, and we in him" (Rite I, Eucharistic Prayer I).  Again, "Sanctify (these gifts of bread and wine) by your Holy Spirit to be for your people the Body and Blood of your Son, the holy food and drink of new and unending life in him" (Rite II, Eucharistic Prayer A).  Likewise, in all our post-communion prayers we acknowledge the great significance of the grace we have just received as it relates to our present and future state.  For example, "we thank you ... for assuring us in these holy mysteries that we are living members of the Body of your Son, and heirs of your eternal kingdom" (pg. 366).  I have gone to the effort of pointing out all the preceding points because I believe that resolution C040 is flawed in its premise.  The resolution is fundamentally based on this idea of offering "radical hospitality" to all.  Hospitality certainly is a vital aspect of our calling as a church.  But it is simply not what the Eucharist is about.

The Eucharist is, rather, the sacrament of the Church by which God's people, those who have through baptism died to the world to live to Christ, receive grace to be united to one another and to grow into unity with God in Christ.  I believe that the church should offer radical hospitality to all, but not by rejecting the historic understanding of a central practice of our catholic faith and confusing people about what we believe, which I think would be the inevitable result of passing the "open table" resolution.  I would rather see us presenting ourselves in love as servants to all humankind, while also boldly inviting all to respond to God's call to be led out of darkness and into His marvelous light.  I certainly believe this resolution has been offered out of a sincere desire to be faithful to God's call to embrace all.  But, in my opinion, this is entirely the wrong way to go about it.  It is ironic to me that the resolution mentions "our strivings within ecumenism" as a justification for what it proposes.  It seems to me that many of the decisions of the Episcopal Church in recent decades have done serious (I pray not irreparable) damage to the ecumenical gains of the last century.  I think the passage of resolution C040 would be yet another widening of the breach between ourselves and our brothers and sisters in other branches of the church.  And, though it is clearly not the intention of the proponents of the resolution, I think such a practice would eventually be viewed negatively by those serious seekers outside the church as well.  We want to be a church where people can ask questions, and feel welcome despite doubts and disagreements.  Well and good, but if we think that the way to become such a church is by refusing to articulate what we do believe and make no claims at all, then I think we will continue to see decline in the Episcopal Church.  Such a church would be like to one who wants to engage all in conversation, but ends up having nothing herself to say.

 Almighty and everliving God, source of all wisdom and understanding, be present with those who take counsel in General Convention for the renewal and mission of your Church.  Teach us in all things to seek first your honor and glory.  Guide us to perceive what is right, and grant us both the courage to pursue it and the grace to accomplish it; through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.
          

Thoughts on "Open Communion" Part I

Almighty God, you have built your Church upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief cornerstone: Grant us so to be joined together in unity of spirit by their teaching, that we may be made a holy temple acceptable to you; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.  Amen.
~ Collect for the Fifth Sunday after Pentecost

It seems to me that it would make sense to begin this blog with some foundational reflections (e.g. Who/What is God?  Why do I believe in God?) and gradually work my way into more specific reflections and questions.  However, that would require a fair deal of planning and structure on my part, so ... I don't think that's going to happen.  Instead, since General Convention 2012 is nearly upon us, I'd like to offer some thoughts on the resolution proposing the Episcopal Church adopt what is being called (rather confusingly) "open communion".  (Note: this is going to be one of those preachy sounding posts, but please understand that I am not saying 'I've got it all figured out and this is the answer'.  What I am saying is 'This is how I see it', and I would very much like to know how others view the issue). Resolution C040 calls for an "Open Table", that is, the deletion of Canon 1.17.7 "No unbaptized person shall be eligible to receive Holy Communion in this Church", thereby enabling congregations "to invite all, regardless of age, denomination, or baptism to the altar rail for Holy Communion."

There is, of course, that other, soon-to-be much talked about resolution A049 to authorize the trial use of  liturgies for same-gender blessings.  I'd rather focus on C040, for several reasons.  For one, I think the approval of same-gender blessings is almost a foregone conclusion at this point.  Secondly, I'm still not entirely sure what my position is on same-gender blessings, which is not really the case regarding open communion. Finally, and most significantly, I think this issue of communion without baptism is of very great importance for the future of the church, even more so than the issue of same-gender blessings.  The latter is primarily about us and our experience of being human.  The former is much more directly about Christ, and our experience of the Divine.

In the explanation section, the resolution offers the reasoning that "such an open invitation for all to fully participate in the Eucharist is in keeping with our catechism's teaching of grace: 'Grace is God’s favor toward us, unearned and undeserved; by grace God forgives our sins, enlightens our minds, stirs our hearts, and strengthens our wills.'" The resolution continues, "that appropriate preparation and readiness to receive the spiritual body and blood of Christ is experienced within the unfolding of the Divine Liturgy, providing whatever an individual needs for examination, repentance and forgiveness amid the call to be in love and charity with all people" (again referencing the catechism). Finally, the explanation sums all up by stating, "We know from our strivings within ecumenism and mission that the communion Christ intended for all is perilous and difficult, and that boldness in offering radical hospitality is our calling rather than canonically driven caution." I would like to address each of these points.

First, regarding the idea of grace as presented in our catechism. I'm glad the catechism is brought up here, though I think it a bit ironic, since it seems to me that this whole issue could be not unjustifiably viewed as a case of dismissing basic doctrine and catechesis in favor of wanting to just be nice and not leave anybody out. God's grace toward us is indeed unearned and undeserved. And that grace is offered freely in baptism, the first great sacrament of the church, upon which all other sacraments of the church are predicated. The catechism states that "Holy Baptism is the sacrament by which God adopts us as his children and makes us members of Christ's Body, the Church, and inheritors of the kingdom of God." It continues, "The inward and spiritual grace in Baptism is union with Christ in his death and resurrection, birth into God's family the Church, forgiveness of sins, and new life in the Holy Spirit." Now, what does the catechism say about the Holy Eucharist? "The Eucharist, the Church's sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, is the way by which the sacrifice of Christ is made present, and in which he unites us to his one offering of himself." Continuing, "The inward and spiritual grace in the Holy Communion is the Body and Blood of Christ given to his people, and received by faith" and "The benefits we receive are the forgiveness of our sins, the strengthening of our union with Christ and one another, and the foretaste of the heavenly banquet which is our nourishment in eternal life" (emphases all mine).

 
Apart from the clear tradition of the church (I'll return to this point later), a simple reading of our catechism makes plain that there is a clear and reasonable order in the administration of these two central sacraments.  In baptism, we die and are resurrected with Christ, are made one with Christ, and adopted by the Father into the family of God.  Many today, including many within the church, speak of all humans as the children of God.  This sounds nice (and certainly God longs for all to recognize and embrace their origin in Him, and so on one level I don't think it is entirely inaccurate to speak this way), but it is not sound Christian theology.  The whole of Scripture and of the church's tradition proclaims that we have become estranged from God through sin, and that it is only through the redemption won by Christ that we are reconciled to God.  Paul writes to the Galations that "You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ" (Gal. 3:26-27) and "when the fullness of the time came, God sent forth His Son ... in order that He might redeem those who were under the Law, that we might receive the adoption as sons" (Gal. 4:4-5).  Our baptism into Christ ushers us into the household of God, reconciling us to God, and marking us as "inheritors of the kingdom," the people of God.  That the Eucharist is the sacramental food for the people of God is clearly demonstrated in the words of the catechism: it is "the Church's sacrifice" by which we are united to Christ's sacrifice, reaffirming that which we embraced as truth in our baptismal covenant; through the Eucharist we receive "the strengthening of our union with Christ."  How can one who has not acknowledged and rejected the corruption of the world and turned to Christ in faith through baptism receive bread and wine as the body and blood of Christ?  How can the sacrament impart grace to strengthen one's union with Christ when there has not yet been any such union?

(Whew! This has turned into a bit more than I had anticipated, though I had a sneaking suspicion this would happen.  I'm going to call it quits for right now.  Don't fret; I'll be back soon with the much anticipated second half of this post!  Peace.)