A Rejoinder on the Essential Catholicity of the Episcopal Church, and the Importance of Relationships

While searching, out of curiosity, for Episcopal Church parishes that have altars set against the east wall, I stumbled upon an Orthodox blog post regarding an event about which I previously wrote (here). The event served as an opportunity for that blogger to opine that "the Episcopal 'Church' is simply apostate," that ecumenical dialogue between Orthodox and Episcopalians should cease, and that Orthodox jurisdictions should no longer recognize Episcopal sacraments, including baptism. Further elaboration followed in the comments. Given that opening volley, and considering the premium that I place upon incarnate relationships (according to which, I often question the value of relatively impersonal conversations online), I'm not sure that I had any real cause to comment; for whatever reason, I felt compelled to do so.

My response became too extensive for a mere comment, so I have posted my thoughts here (with an invitation, of course, to the originator of the criticisms to read them and respond, if he is so inclined). I offer them without animosity as the reflections of one who desires greater understanding, charity, and unity among Christians of varying traditions.

The assertions with which I must contend, and my responses:

"The simple truth is we have no idea what is happening in (Episcopal) baptisms. We don't know what is being said, what is being intended, and so on. In theory they are bound by the Book of Common Prayer. In practice this is often not the case."
I should begin by saying that I view adherence to the BCP as of utmost importance, and while it's true that we have priests who don't do this as strictly as they should (and as they are bound by their ordination vows to do), it must be said that such aberrations are exceptions, despite the press they receive. I think this is even truer with regards to the baptismal rite; as a lifelong Episcopalian, I've witnessed a fair number of baptisms, and I've never seen (or heard of) one that would be considered invalid according to the doctrine and practice set forth in the BCP. At a minimum, the baptism must be "with water, 'In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit' (which are the essential parts of Baptism)" (1979 BCP, 313). Any baptism meeting this basic criteria is recognized as valid by the Episcopal Church as constituting "full initiation by water and the Holy Spirit into Christ's Body the Church. The bond which God establishes in Baptism is indissoluble" (BCP, 298). Accordingly, the Episcopal Church does not re-baptize, and firmly argues against a theological understanding of baptism which would necessitate such a practice.
     As for baptisms administered in the Episcopal Church, in addition to meeting the above essentials, they are normatively in accordance with the full baptismal rite contained in the Prayer Book. In that rite, the candidate renounces Satan, evil, and sin, and affirms Jesus Christ as Savior, Lord, and the one upon whom all hope is cast. The candidate proceeds, with the whole assembly, to affirm the faith in the words of the Apostles' Creed. After prayers, the candidate is baptized in the Triune Name, and anointed with Chrism ("you are sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism and marked as Christ's own forever"). Then the newly baptized is charged by the whole assembled household of God to "Confess the faith of Christ crucified, proclaim his resurrection, and share with us in his eternal priesthood." (BCP, 301-308). One may dispute the finer points of the BCP rite itself, but I must contend that it is simply unjustified to state that "we have no idea what is happening" in Episcopal baptisms--what is happening, with near if not actual universality in such baptisms, is the rite as contained in the authorized liturgy of the Episcopal Church.

"There is no real article of faith to which one must subscribe to be (an Episcopalian)."
See above. To me, this criticism sounds like a stereotypical Roman Catholic (or generally Western) criticism of Eastern Orthodoxy: "How can anyone be sure what those Orthodox really believe? They have no Pope! They have no systematic catechism! They are so enamored of divine mystery! It's just too messy!" It can indeed be messy, but that by no means negates the deep substance to be found in a tradition. To be baptized or received into the Episcopal Church is to affirm the ancient Creeds, and to submit to be continually formed by the liturgy of the Church as authorized in the BCP, which is the clearest and most authoritative source of "the doctrine and discipline" of the Episcopal Church. If one has questions about the faith professed by the Episcopal Church, read the BCP. Again, one may quibble over various details, but I don't see how anyone could claim that the BCP as a whole is not a formulary that is elegantly and powerfully catholic and reformed, solidly orthodox, and unambiguously Trinitarian. (And it's so handy, too!)

"Are there Christians in TEC? Certainly. But the organization itself is not Christian . . ."
Again, see above. This reminds me of conversations in my younger days among evangelical Protestant friends:
"So, do you think it's possible for a Roman Catholic to be a Christian?"
"Well, I guess so, if they have accepted Jesus as their personal Lord and Savior. But I don't know why they would continue to stay in that pagan, idolatrous 'church.' They should find a real church that's Bible-based."
"So, do you know many Roman Catholics?"
"Well, not really. But I just read this book by a former Catholic who got saved, all about what Catholics really believe . . ."

Lastly,
"And of course the few who are as a matter of personal faith still Christian are in full communion with the likes of Jack Spong. You are who you are in communion with."
To begin with, I should say that I'm no fan of John S. Spong. I tend to be pretty generous, but having read some of his stuff, I honestly don't know how (or why) he maintains a Christian self-identity. I should also note that some of his ablest critics have been his fellow Anglicans, including the recent Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams (he truly took him to task for his "12 Points"--look it up for a good read). There are still Episcopalians who seem interested in what he writes, but in my experience they are generally older and of decreasing number (i.e. Spong's heyday, to the extent that he had one, has come and gone). But more to the point, I would speak to the claim that "you are who you are in communion with." If that is how communion works (i.e. negatively, the "worst" of us infecting the "best" of us), then no doubt we are all, in every tradition, hopelessly lost. But there is a sense in which I agree--I believe that by God's grace in the sacraments (particularly Baptism and Eucharist), Christians are brought into union with one another in ways no less real for our inadequacy to describe the mystery. I would not say, though, that "I am who I am in communion with"; rather, I would assert that I am becoming, that I am being transformed more and more into the likeness of Christ, and into greater union with God and God's people.

To conclude, I would reiterate that I think relationships are key--if a Christian from a different tradition finds it inconceivable that an Episcopalian could be both sincere and well-grounded in his personal Christian faith and also convinced of the essential catholicity of the Episcopal Church, I would encourage such a one to seek to develop some relationships with some actual Episcopalians. I myself have been greatly blessed by my involvement in the Eighth Day Institute, a local ecumenical endeavor founded by a devout Orthodox layman and supported by the local Orthodox Cathedral of St. George (Antiochian Orthodox Christian Archdiocese of North America). It is a truly remarkable and wonderful source of Christian fellowship and education.

Ephesians 4:1-6
Pax Christi.

Mary in the Episcopal Church

I recently became a member of the Society of Mary, an Anglican devotional society.  The Society was founded with the following objects:

1. To love and honor Mary.
2. To spread devotion to her in reparation for past neglect and misunderstanding, and in the cause of Christian Unity.
3. To take Mary as a model in purity, personal relationships, and family life.

Members of the Society keep a simple Rule of Life, which includes devotions such as the Angelus and Anthems of Our Lady, praying for departed members of the Society, sharing in the Eucharist on principle feasts of Our Lady, and engaging in apostolic and pastoral work.

Over the last couple of years I have been increasingly drawn to greater appreciation and love for the Blessed Virgin Mary in my own devotional life.  I discovered the Society about a year ago, and it was primarily that discovery which inspired me to begin implementing some Marian devotions into my prayer life.  I pray the Angelus daily (it has been helpful that the Lutheran church behind our house rings its chimes at six o'clock every evening!) and usually end Evening Prayer with the seasonally appropriate Marian anthem.  I have only recently become a member because I did not initially realize that the Society, which was formed in the Church of England in 1931, has an American Region.  Incidentally, one of the things I noted in exploring their website was that the Society has cells and wards affiliated with both the Episcopal Church and various North American Anglican churches that have left TEC.  I'm interested to find out more, but such communion among these churches, on any level, is rare these days.  This seems to me an encouraging example, and a demonstration of the Blessed Virgin and devotion to her serving "in the cause of Christian Unity."

In keeping with the objects of the Society, I thought to publish a post about "Mary in the Episcopal Church".  I recently found a pamphlet by that name, published by Forward Movement, as I was looking for resources for a family member who is curious about what Episcopalians believe about the Blessed Virgin Mary.  Of course, stating what Episcopalians believe about anything has, unfortunately, become famously tricky in recent years (though, as I've noted in various previous posts, what Episcopalians believe can be most definitively expounded by reading The Book of Common Prayer, regardless of what idiosyncrasies or aberrations one may find in individuals and parishes).  Accordingly, attempting to explain Mary in the life of the Episcopal Church in a mere eight pages is rather ambitious, but as a brief, introductory pamphlet, I felt it was mostly satisfactory.

In the words of the introduction, the pamphlet "offers a guide to Episcopalians seeking a deeper understanding of Mary as mother, disciple, role model, and sister in Christ."  These roles of Mary provide the headings by which the text is organized.  There are also headings of The Annunciation, The Visitation, Mary and Salvation, Mary and Worship, Society of Mary (Anglican), and Prayers.  I do have two criticisms that I believe are significant: one concerning the section Mary as Mother, and one concerning a noticeable omission.

First, while affirming Mary as mother of Jesus, the pamphlet states that "for Episcopalians, 'Virgin Birth' is not necessarily a term describing a medical condition.  The Bible is the story of God's presence in human history, not a scientific manual."  It then refers to scholarly debate about the meaning of the word "virgin" as it is used in various passages in Scripture.  The text continues: "Whatever one concludes, for the authors of Matthew's and Luke's gospels, portraying Jesus' birth as unique is a way of proclaiming that in Jesus God has done something unprecedented: God has entered human life in an extraordinary way and created a new relationship with us."  While I don't technically disagree with any of the preceding assertions, I find it strange and a bit troubling that the author(s) felt it appropriate to cast doubt on the traditional understanding of the doctrine of the Virgin Birth in a pamphlet of this size and scope.  It seems to me quite outside the realm of the parameters and context that the pamphlet sets for itself.  And while it is true that "virgin" can be a fairly ambiguous term in some Scriptural passages, the same cannot be said for the gospel accounts (e.g. 'How will this be,' Mary asked the angel, 'since I am a virgin?' Luke 1: 34).  I think it is misleading to imply that the gospel writers meant to leave this issue vague or open to various, symbolic interpretations.  And it is undeniably true that the Church, from the earliest centuries down to the present, has affirmed in its official teaching what the gospel writers make unambiguous: that Jesus did not have a human father, but was conceived in (Mary) from the Holy Spirit (Matt. 1:21).

The second criticism is not unrelated to the first.  I was surprised that nowhere in the pamphlet was there reference to Mary as Theotokos (the God-bearer, or "Mother of God").  This title is important.  Indeed, it is this understanding of Mary that truly sets her apart from all other saints (and, not incidentally, helps prevent what I would consider a 'low view,' or potentially even unorthodox understanding, of the Incarnation, such as I have just criticized).  It helps us understand that though she is indeed a model as mother, disciple, and sister in Christ, Mary is also much more: she is the one through whom the eternal God chose to be born as truly human, the one through whom the Word became flesh and dwelt among us (John 1:14).  This Incarnation is an astounding thing which, once believed and pondered, makes it all but impossible to view the Blessed Virgin Mary as simply one among many saintly examples.  She is not divine, of course, but she is wholly unique as the true mother of our Lord.  And to acknowledge Mary as Theotokos is to confess that Jesus Christ is truly God and truly Man.  In the early Church, there were a number of competing theories that challenged this orthodox understanding of who Jesus was (e.g. that Jesus was simply a great exemplary man, or was more than human but less than God, or was a man "adopted" by God's Spirit at some point in his earthly life, or was not truly human but merely appeared to be so, etc.).  It was in response to these heresies that the great Fourth Ecumenical Council, at Chalcedon in 451 A.D., issued the most definitive confession regarding the person of Christ.  In powerful and wonderful language (an excerpt of which is contained in The Book of Common Prayer, pg. 864) the Council declared:

"Therefore, following the holy fathers, we all with one accord teach men to acknowledge one and the same Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, at once complete in Godhead and complete in manhood, truly God and truly man ... as regards his Godhead, begotten of the Father before the ages, but yet as regards his manhood begotten, for us men and for our salvation, of Mary the Virgin, the God-bearer (Theotokos)."

In summary, I am glad that I was able to find a pamphlet to introduce Episcopalians and curious others to the place of Mary in the Episcopal Church.  Overall, taking it for what it is, I found it to be a good and helpful publication.  I am pleased that it provides information about the Society of Mary; hopefully some interested readers of the pamphlet will be encouraged to seek out the Society, which would prove to be a helpful resource for clarifying or correcting any issues that could arise from what I consider to be the pamphlet's shortcomings.  In truth, though, those shortcomings can be adequately addressed by simply turning to the Catechism of the Episcopal Church (BCP pg. 849) wherein we find this beautifully succinct explication of the mystery we confess in the Creed:

Q.  What do we mean when we say that Jesus was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and became incarnate from the Virgin Mary?

A.  We mean that by God's own act, his divine Son received our human nature from the Virgin Mary, his mother.

Peace of Christ.

           

Pray for Christian Unity

Father, we pray for your holy Catholic Church;
That we all may be one. 
               ~Prayers of the People, Form III, BCP


This week, beginning with the Feast of the Confession of St. Peter and continuing through to the Conversion of St. Paul, marks the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, an idea popularized early in the twentieth century by the French ecumenist and Roman Catholic priest, Paul Couturier.  Richard Meux Benson was a priest of the Church of England, and the founder of the Society of Saint John the Evangelist.  Fr. Benson writes:

We, as members of the human race, are not so many individuals existing alongside of one another in the world, but by nature we are one; and we cannot be restored to the love of God merely as individuals.  We must be restored in the consciousness of that unity to which we belong.  We are not taken out of the one body to be individuals in heaven.  The law of sympathy is a law which lives on with us, and without it we cannot be saved.  We cannot truly have a personal interest in Christ, unless we have a collective interest in Christ.  We cannot have our sins blotted out by Christ's blood, unless we have fellowship with one another.  This law of unity is the law under which we are created, and we must accept it as the foundation of our moral state.  We must then have a real sense of our own participation in the sins of the whole race.  And we must humble ourselves before God.

Lack of unity among Christians is hardly a new problem.  Despite our Lord's prayer "that they may be one" as He and the Father are one, we've done a pretty fine job of splitting ourselves into sects and divisions right from the start.  From St. Paul's concern expressed to the Corinthians that they were splitting into factions of Paul, Apollos, and Cephas, through the early Church's struggle to define its orthodoxy, through the Great Schism between East and West in the eleventh century to the Protestant Reformations of the sixteenth, and the subsequent continued splintering of Protestantism that continues down to our own day, it would be easy to look around and think that Christian unity is more distant than ever.  The idea of Christian unity is famously tricky, in part because there is not even agreement about what we mean when we speak of it.  Do we seek a single, unified institution?  Varied institutions in full communion with one another?  Universal conformity in doctrine?  A simple charity of spirit on matters of adiaphora (though that would entail agreement on what is adiaphora and what is essential)?  In short, one could become frustrated quite easily.  All the more reason to pray fervently for that unity which, apparently, is meant to be a defining mark of the People of God.

The Church in America is not unique for its disunity; disunity afflicts the Church the world over.  But I think we in America, perhaps more than most, need to be reminded of the scandal of a divided Church.  From the beginning, America has seen a multiplicity of churches, and that diversity has only grown over time.  We also cherish the ideals of individuality and personal liberty, so much so that we are most apt to speak of these things as blessings, unique and characteristic strengths of religion in America.  But individuality and personal liberty are largely incompatible with the gospel and the idea of the Church as presented in the New Testament and in Christian tradition (or, more accurately, it is the pervasive individualism that passes for these ideals which is incompatible with Christianity).  In becoming members of Christ's body, we become bound to Jesus, our Lord and Master, and also bound to the rest of the Body. We are instructed to submit to one another out of reverence for Christ (what red-blooded, liberty-loving, self-reliant American patriot would willingly be bound in submission to anyone or anything?).  The freedom of Christ is not a license to do whatever we want, as both Paul and Peter point out in their letters.  And, popular evangelical phraseology not withstanding, Jesus is not my personal Savior; he is the Savior of the world.  One may counter that this is simply semantics, that Jesus is both Savior of the world and the Savior of me, personally, as a beloved individual creature in this world.  True enough, but I think many in the Church in America today have been fed so much of the language of personal salvation that they may understandably intuit that it really just boils down to "Jesus and me."  After all, "it's about relationship, not religion", right?  I suspect that many American Christians would balk at Benson's assertion that "we cannot be restored to the love of God merely as individuals", that without fellowship and real sympathy with our fellow humans "we cannot be saved."  But I believe it is so.  Christ founded a Church, not a loose association of individuals.  This idea of the Christian faith as communal by definition needs to be regained with vigor.  The Christian faith simply cannot be separated from the Church and passed off as an endlessly individualized series of options for the lone spiritual seeker who won't be tied down.  The author of the letter to the Hebrews gives us insight into the profound nature of the unity of the whole Church and the reality that our individual salvation is inextricably bound up with the welfare of the whole when he writes, "only together with us would they be made perfect" (Hebrews 11:40).

The Christian lives in hope.  Despite the seeming bleakness of our deep, long-ingrained disunion, we continue to pray.  Let us pray, not in desperation, but in expectation.  In the fourth chapter of the letter to the Ephesians, in what is perhaps the most famous passage in the New Testament on Christian unity, Paul prefaces his creedal statement about "one Lord, one faith, one baptism" with this injunction: "Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace."  No matter how we divide ourselves, the Holy Spirit will not be divided.  To the extent that we, dispersed though we are, cling to Jesus Christ, the Head of the Body, and seek only to build upon the foundation that has Christ as cornerstone, we may live in hope that the unity of the Church, a perpetual reality that we have often obscured, will become ever clearer as the Day approaches.

By the grace God has given me, I laid a foundation as an expert builder, and someone else is building on it.  But each one should be careful how he builds.  For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ ... So then, no more boasting about men!  All things are yours, whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas or the world or life or death or the present or the future -- all are yours, and you are of Christ, and Christ is of God.   
~ I Corinthians 3:10-11, 21-23 

Almighty Father, whose blessed Son before his passion prayed for his disciples that they might be one, as you and he are one: Grant that your Church, being bound together in love and obedience to you, may be united in the one body by the one Spirit, that the world may believe in him whom you have sent, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever.  Amen.
~A Prayer for the Unity of the Church, BCP

A Conversation at the Hall of Men, and Reflection on the Same

(The Hall of Men is a bi-monthly fellowship of men who gather for food and drink, and to encourage and challenge each other in the faith.  It's a diverse group of Eastern Orthodox, Roman Catholics, and Protestants, who all find unity in Christ, and who always express sincere love for one another.  I discovered the group about a year ago, at a time when I was feeling a deep need for just such a community of fellowship and formation.  It has been a great blessing to me.)

My brother and I were talking with S and C after most of the crowd had gone.  W mentioned that I was planning on becoming a priest.
'Oh, really?  What church?'
'Episcopal.'
We talked a bit more, just getting to know each other.  S and C asked if we were both raised in the Episcopal Church.
C asked, 'So, do you not feel out of place here?  I mean, since everyone is so conservative?'
I don't really think of the Hall of Men as a typically conservative gathering.  Rather, I think it's pretty uniquely open-minded, which I'd say is necessary for a truly ecumenical fellowship, which the Hall of Men certainly is.  I told him I didn't feel out of place at all, but that I would probably be considered pretty conservative myself, at least by current Episcopalian standards.  C asked how I managed this, staying in an increasingly liberal church when I don't self-identify as a liberal.  I told him I hadn't really worked all that out yet.  But that I very much do want to be a part of the Anglican Communion, and TEC remains the official Anglican church in North America, as far as Canterbury is concerned.  I explained that the Communion is very important to me, since I think of myself as an ecumenist.  It's this church that has always been home to me.  And as regards our official doctrine, i.e. the BCP, it remains thoroughly orthodox, despite the recent decisions and trajectory of General Convention and various vocal leaders in TEC.
C, as I knew, was previously a Methodist pastor.  His experience in seminary was extremely disillusioning, and that frustration continued after his ordination and during his time as a minister.  He has since been received into the Orthodox Church as a layman.
C said he felt positively ostracized in seminary.  'Man, they made me feel like I was George W. Bush or something.  And I'm not that conservative.  I mean, I didn't support the war or anything.'
He continued, 'My one piece of advice to you: don't invest all that time and money in seminary if you're not sure about it.'  I told him that I was at the very beginning of a process that I hoped would help me to learn much and discern more fully what God would have me do.  I said that I intended to be honest throughout the process.  Honest about what I believe and what I am seeking, what I envision for my future, as well as my concerns about TEC.
'Yeah, definitely be honest.  Because that's what I didn't do early enough.  I mean, I was raised in a great church.  Wonderful people, solid doctrine, man -- John Wesley would've been proud.  And I thought that was the church.'  He said he hoped the best for me, but he didn't envy me.  I thanked him for his concern and honest advice.  I know it was sincere, and I know he's really struggled.  I think C's situation is not unlike my own.  And in my more fearful moments, I can see my own path mirroring his, one of painful disillusionment.

So, why am I continuing to pursue holy orders in TEC?  It's a question worth pondering, and I do confess C's advice/warning has been occupying my thoughts lately.  To answer simply: I feel called to the priesthood, and the Episcopal Church is my church.  It is where I feel at home, despite my concerns about the future, and my grief over the schisms of the recent past.
I've only very briefly flirted with the idea of swimming the Tiber or the Bosphorus.  It's true that my knowledge of both Roman Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy is not extensive, by any means.  God knows what the future holds; perhaps if I did know more, I would feel differently, but I rather doubt it.  I'm aware even now of certain doctrines and practices in both churches with which I don't entirely agree.  There is no perfect church.  I'm sure faithful Roman Catholics and Eastern Orthodox would themselves acknowledge this.  But they would also maintain that, despite its faults, their church is the one true Church, and therefore everyone else is on the outside, heretics in varying degrees.  I don't believe that.  It's simply one reason why I feel so strongly that I am indeed home as an Anglican Christian.
Of course, I'm also something of a loyalist by nature.  And really, I don't know many people who relish change and the severing of longstanding ties.  So, I'm aware that this could be just so much noble-sounding rationalizing on my part.  But I do feel that if I were once to make that break, and to set out on my quest for 'the true Church', I would never truly find myself at home, never feel entirely at peace.  Along with the question of being in communion with Canterbury, this is a primary reason why I don't see myself joining one of the 'continuing Anglican' churches.  How many are there?  It seems like a new one springs up every year or so.  Once schism for the sake of purity is embraced, it seems to have no end.  Would not the pasture always look greener on the other side, until I got there and realized upon closer inspection that it was more or less just as prickly and weevil-invested as the one I just abandoned?  And I don't think I'm simply making excuses when I say that where I am is where I believe God has placed me.  I intend to do what good I can in this place where He has seen fit to establish and raise me. I want to serve God as a priest in His Church, and I do believe this is a desire that He has placed in my heart.

Wm. Temple: "There is the Church"

This past Tuesday was not only Election Day, but also the feast day of William Temple in many Anglican Church calendars.  This is a happy coincidence, given Temple's advocacy for a truly Christian social vision (there is an excellent post over at the blog Catholicity and Covenant that contrasts the broadness of his vision with the poverty of our current political discourse).

William Temple was Archbishop of Canterbury from 1942 until his death in 1944.  A gifted teacher with an infectious laugh and an encyclopedic knowledge, he seemed to be a respected authority in nearly everything.  He was also one of the principal leaders of the early ecumenical movement, a fact for which I find him  particularly interesting.  This is because I claim the title of ecumenist as integral to my identity.  I think the same may be said of Temple. Here he is from a sermon given at the opening of the ecumenical Edinburgh Conference of 1937 on Faith and Order (which he chaired):

"But I know that our division at this point is the greatest of all scandals in the face of the world; I know that we can only consent to it or maintain it without the guilt of unfaithfulness to the unity of the Gospel and of God himself, if it is a source to us of spiritual pain, and if we are striving to the utmost to remove the occasions which now bind us, as we think, to that perpetuation of disunion."

That disunion was obviously a source of "spiritual pain" to Temple, laboring as he did to bring about greater understanding and genuine union among the various scattered branches of the Church.  In typically Anglican fashion, he viewed his own tradition as having a special vocation to this ecumenical calling.  The Anglican church has long sought to provide a via media, a middle way of being the Church which claims the best of both Protestant and Catholic tradition in a comprehensive vision.  This is difficult (as the present troubles of the global Anglican Communion readily testify), and often the Anglican way devolves into mere compromise for the sake of peace, rather than comprehensiveness for the sake of truth in all its richness.  Even in such a state, however, Temple responded to critics thus: "We have learnt from a full experience that nearly always peace is the best way to truth."  And given the vision before us (i.e. humanity in all its diversity made one in Christ's holy, catholic Church), should we not expect this way to be difficult?

I find my own ecumenism well summarized below.  In one of his essays on the subject, Temple wrote:

"The unity of the Church of God is a perpetual fact; our task is not to create it but to exhibit it.  Where Christ is in men's hearts, there is the Church; where his spirit is active, there is His Body.    The Church is not an association of men, each of whom has chosen Christ as his Lord; it is a fellowship of men, each of whom Christ has united with Himself. ... We could not seek union if we did not already possess unity.  Those who have nothing in common do not deplore their estrangement.  It is because we are one in allegiance to one Lord that we seek and hope for the way of manifesting that unity in our witness to Him before the world. ... It is not by contrivance and adjustment that we can unite the Church of God.  It is only by coming close to Him that we can come nearer to one another."

Here is wisdom.  Ours is to exhibit the unity which already exists but is hidden beneath the internal and secondary disputes which we so love to magnify.  Temple certainly did not seek to whitewash or brush aside the significant differences in practice and theology held by the various churches; his was not a "lowest common denominator" vision of the Church.  But even those differences pale in significance with the real unity we possess in Christ.  It is there; we must find ways to embrace it, for ourselves and the world.

Peace.


(Incidentally, I've so far mostly read about William Temple.  I'd like to read the man himself, but I'm not sure where to start.  Any suggestions would be appreciated.)  

   

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.