On the Merits of Liturgy and the Church Calendar

I've written about liturgy before. Here's another lovely take on it:

Liturgy, at its best, is more like the tracks of the train than the whistle. It’s silent and sturdy and, though almost unnoticed, it leads us to where our hearts long to go. In perhaps the most quoted address on liturgy, C.S. Lewis states, that liturgy is most useful “when, through long familiarity, we don’t have to think about it. As long as you notice, and have to count, the steps, you are not yet dancing but only learning to dance. A good shoe is a shoe you don’t notice. Good reading becomes possible when you need not consciously think about eyes, or light, or print, or spelling. The perfect church service would be one we were almost unaware of; our attention would have been on God.

…from Tish Harrison Warren, a priest in the Anglican Church in North America, in a piece on her discovery and appreciation for the church calendar in Christianity Today's excellent "Her.meneutics" here.

Liturgy's trustworthy tracks, along with the church calendar, keep our worship and personal devotions on course as, year after year, they carry us along through the story of Jesus from Advent through Easter and a focus on discipleship for the rest of the year. The accompanying lectionary ensures that we are all, including preachers, at least exposed to themes with which we might not otherwise be inclined to engage.

One Side to the Other: New Beginnings and Thoughts on Worship

This morning the missal stand (which holds the big prayer book at a convenient angle from which to read on the altar) had been moved from one side of the altar to the other at StB. I noticed it as soon as I settled into my pew. 'Tis an outward and visible sign of the fact that we now have a new presider. This next stage of our journey to meet Jesus when he comes again has begun. Our new and very welcome priest, The Rev Dr Dustin Resch, now has the con. This morning he presided and preached (praught?) for the first time. It was grand. 

Keep Calm and Worship On

Here are some thoughts and discoveries about worshipping on the other side of the rood screen (supposing we had one) from that most peculiar and sometime irksome personage; the previous rector. These have been bubbling up and mouldering as Jude and I wandered at first without benefit of flock in the early months of retirement and more recently when it felt right to return to StB.

All Circumstances

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. (1 Thessalonians 5:16–18 ESV)

What we Anglicans (and Roman Catholics and most Lutherans, too) do most Sundays is celebrate Eucharist (more on that later). The word comes from the Greek word for thanksgiving. As as lover, follower and worshipper of the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ I ought to be able to give worshipful thanks for what God has done, is doing and will do, in all circumstances—especially on Sunday mornings at church no matter where I am, who is presiding, how loud the children are, whether or not I like the music, or denominational peculiarities, or style, or the people up front, or around me. This was impressed upon me especially during our wanderings. I was reminded that I have a job to do among God's people at worship wherever I go. My job is to apply myself to the task, or the work, in liturgical terms (the word liturgy means work of the people) allowing nothing to distract me. In all circumstances. It is my responsibility. If I let some real or imagined failing of a leader or anyone else deflect me, the devil wins. If something bothers me, I just have to work harder. Sure, my mind wanders. Less often than it used to, perhaps. If it does, I just catch myself and refocus on what's being said, sung and prayed. Over and over again, as necessary.

Bible Delight

I love the Bible. I love the way we hear three passages read aloud every Sunday. I believe God's written Word read out loud gradually salts us through and through so it will not return to Him empty. It will succeed in the thing for which He sent it (Isa 55.11). 

When I led worship from the other side of the rood screen, I used to encourage people to bring their Bibles to church so they could follow the readings. I thought that doing that helps us learn where things are in there. I used to feel a little impatient with people because most didn't. On this side of the screen I find myself repenting of that. I find that I don't want to read along as the passages are read, I'm enjoying listening to them. I have to concentrate. My monkey-mind can head off on tangents very easily. But I find watching the face of the reader helpful in listening deeply. I've seen some folk close their eyes to listen, but I find the watching helpful for some reason. 

I still have my Bible handy in some form in case I need to look at a phrase or a verse more closely and I think daily Bible reading in the context of The Daily Office (Morning and Evening Prayer) is important to help keep my faith and spiritual self alive, but Sunday listening has been the thing for me—somewhat to my surprise.

Worship in Song

Sometimes when I don't know a song I'm tempted to zone out and wait until it's over. But if All Circumstances above is valid, there are several ways I can be a part of the worship at all times. For example: 

1. I can silently pray the lyrics as those who know the song sing
2. I can harmonize by quietly singing or reciting appropriate Bible verses, for example, "How glorious you are, more majestic than the everlasting mountains!" (Ps 76.4) or "Be exalted O Lord above the heavens, let your glory be over all the earth!" (Ps 57.11) or I can pray "Glory to the Father, and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end!" Watch for verses you can use in this way in your daily Bible reading. 
3. I can harmonize by singing in the Spirit as I pray in tongues (1 Cor 12.10) if I have that gift.

There is no reason why I should allow myself to be left out of the worship whether I know the song or not or how well it is led.

Making Eucharist

I love the drama of the Lord's Table. The story of our salvation is told Sunday after Sunday. The bread and the wine are presented, prepared and prayed over. The Lord is remembered until he comes again. I enjoyed presiding, but I also now love being a part of the parade of humanity that goes up to receive what Jesus has provided; old and young, male and female, all shapes and sizes, Sunday by Sunday; we approach, receive and return; a graceful altar call and response. I miss it whenever we're away, but I can still worship when I put my mind to it. 

The most important thing is that the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ is worshipped and enjoyed in the power of the Holy Spirit no matter what and in all circumstances. 

It is SO good to be home.

The Anglican Communion's Inter-Anglican Standing Commission on Unity, Faith and Order Has Urged The Anglican Church of Canada Not to Amend Its Marriage Canon

Something of which we Anglicans need to be aware:

The Inter-Anglican Standing Commission on Unity, Faith and Order (IASCUFO) has urged the Anglican Church of Canada not to amend its marriage canon (church law) to allow the marriage of same-sex couples, saying such a move would “cause great distress for the Communion as a whole, and for its ecumenical relationships.” 

The IASCUFO’s statement came in response to a request from the Canadian church’s Commission on the Marriage Canon for an opinion about proposed changes to Canon 21 that would allow for same-sex marriages. Canon Kenneth Kearon, secretary general of the Anglican Communion, decided IASCUFO would be the “most appropriate” body within the Communion to deal with such a question. (See more here.)

Back in September I posted some information on The Anglican Church of Canada's Commission on the Marriage Canon to which IASCUFO refers. That post included a link to the more than two hundred submissions received by the Commission (including my own) here.

Please pray that the Holy Spirit's direction would be clearly heard and obeyed concerning this difficult and divisive matter and that The Anglican Church of Canada will respond humbly and wisely.

A Delicate State: Thoughts Arising From Archbishop Welby's Address to the CofE's General Synod

Recently I read The Anglican Communion's Challenges and The Way Forward, Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby’s address to the Church of England General Synod. Anyone looking for a magic bullet to solve all our problems, toss out the bad guys and make everything better will be disappointed. Instead, the Archbishop acknowledged that we are “a flourishing Communion but also a divided Communion” and that he is "utterly daunted by the differences that exist. They are huge,” and “our divisions may be too much to manage.” No rose-tinted spectacles there or here:

In many parts of the Communion, including here, there is a belief that opponents are either faithless to the tradition, or by contrast that they are cruel, judgemental, inhuman. I have to say that we are in a state so delicate that without prayer and repentance, it is hard to see how we can avoid some serious fractures.

To resolve the issues we face

is almost unimaginably difficult, and most certainly cannot be done except with a whole-hearted openness to the Holy Spirit at work amongst us. It comes with prayer, and us growing closer to God in Jesus Christ and nothing else is an effective substitute. There are no strategies and no plans beyond prayer and obedience. 

Prayer, repentance and obedience. I can’t argue with that. The trouble is I’m inclined to think it’s the people I believe are in error that need to pray, repent and obey the most. And then, what if I’m right? Or, is it remotely possible that I’ve been log-blinded and am wrong? How then shall I behave? Archbishop Welby again:

…the future of the Communion requires sacrifice.  The biggest sacrifice is that we cannot only work with those we like, and hang out with those whose views are also ours.  Groups of like-minded individuals meeting to support and encourage each other may be necessary, indeed often are very necessary, but they are never sufficient.  Sufficiency is in loving those with whom we disagree.  What may be necessary in the way of party politics, is not sufficient in what might be called the polity of the Church. 

Even when we feel a group is beyond the pale for its doctrine, or for its language about others or us, we must love. Love one another, love your neighbour, love your enemy. Who in the world is in none of those categories?

Sacrifice and love. As Jesus did, Welby covers the all love bases: one another, neighbour and enemy. No loop-holes there. Then

underpinning us is a unity imposed by the Spirit of God on those who name Jesus Christ as Lord and Saviour.

A unity imposed by the Holy Spirit. Can withdrawal from relationship or schism be imposed by the Holy Spirit? Paul calls the Corinthians not to be unequally yoked with unbelievers, to go out from them and be separate (2 Cor 6:14-17) but when we think believers are in error, what then? Might something like Paul's instructions to the Thessalonians apply?

If anyone does not obey what we say in this letter, take note of that person, and have nothing to do with him, that he may be ashamed. Do not regard him as an enemy, but warn him as a brother. (2 Thessalonians 3:14–15 ESV)

I am reminded of Prime Minister Harper's recent treatment of Russian President Vladimir Putin at the G20 summit: "I guess I'll shake your hand, but I only have one thing to say to you: you need to get out of Ukraine." Would our equivalent be, "I'm obliged to love you (agape, not phileo), but I have this to say to you, you need to stop/get out of/ repent of thus and so?" This after considerable self examination with prayer and repentance, an honest and sacrificial commitment to obey Scripture and to love the persons with whom we disagree.

More than almost unimaginably difficult, perhaps. Yet, we live and move and have our being in a world where a virgin gave birth to son who was subsequently raised from the dead. I don't understand how the God and Father of Our Lord Jesus Christ did that any more than I can see how he might hold the Anglican Communion together in a way with which all parties can live and enjoy, but I know he is capable of much more than my puny mind can ask or imagine. And a good thing, too.

Collaring Within the Lines: More on Retirement and Things I Would, or Would Not, Do Differently

This is a rather naughty doodle concerning how collar height and the position of one’s neck within it might correspond to one’s title (we Anglicans like our titles) and level of importance in Anglican heirarchy. If one wears the wrap around full collar, the height may also indicate one’s theology. The higher the collar, the more evangelical and low church. The lower, or narrower the collar, the more Romish.

We Anglican clergy do tend to wear clerical collars. Some of us all the time and some not so much. I did at first because I could, I was excited to be newly ordained and I enjoyed the novelty of swanning about in "clericals." I began with tab collared shirts in black, navy and trendy oxford cloth in pale blue.

Then I graduated to the Clericool neckband collar that goes all the way around my neck; like the collars above, only mine were a modest and Anglican via media inch and a half high; like a halo that has slipped, as one wag put it. Tab collar shirts were expensive and stipends were modest, so I started buying my shirts from Value Village for $5 each and Jude, my wife, took the collars off and set them up so I could wear my Clericool neckband clergy collar studded to them. An added bonus was that at Value Village I had a huge selection of colours and patterns. As my more sober dark blue and black shirts wore out, they were were replaced with coloured, patterned ones (see my Full Easter here). Black seemed too funereal. Heavy. I would be "hip" and unique—colourful and cool.

After a while, however, I bought into some adverse ideas about clergy collar wearing; too many negative connotations, some said, nothing but symbols of abusive power, of boring, outmoded Christendom, especially when worn with black shirts. Those who wear them are hiding behind them, some believe. I have to confess I never felt particularly hidden when I was collared. Try walking down the street in one and see how hidden you feel. So my collaredness became less frequent.

For the first half of my ministry I was blessed with some modest growth in the parishes I served which seemed to suggest that God might be liking my only occasionally collared colourful approach.

Here's where I think I went wrong. The shirt colours and not wearing a collar was all about me, about me expressing myself; "Look at him, what a cool clergyman, he's out here with us."

If I was starting out again, I think I would work collared all the time, not because I’m superior, but because of the office I bear. Rather than expressing myself, I need to express The One I serve.

The Right Reverend Kelvin Wright, Bishop of Dunedin, New Zealand (where I once went intending to become a Presbyterian minister and where I met, Jude, my wife, through which The LORD made me an Anglican by marriage—but that’s another story) puts it well in a blog post about wearing vestments during worship:

I don't stand up in front of people in my own right. I do it in the name of the church, which has, for better or worse, decided that I am a suitable person to perform acts of ministry on the church's behalf. And in token of this, I am vested; that is, my own identity is masked. It is hidden within the garments which represent to the congregation the church's history and the Gospel out of which that history has grown. Take, as an example of ministry, the absolution that I pronounce most Sundays. I, obviously, have no ability to forgive anybody's sins. What I do have is the authority to pronounce the truth of God's forgiveness, given by Jesus to the apostles. One of the signs that I am not speaking on my own behalf is the clothing I wear. 

Masks and signs. I think much the same could be said about wearing clergy shirts and clerical collars.

So, for the last few months before I retired, I wore my collar every working day, my own identity symbolically masked and as a sign that I was not speaking or acting on my own behalf.

I'm a recently retired (a whole week!) collarless Anglican cleric. For now.

On Doing Holy Week Anglicanly: More on Retirement and Things I Would or Would Not Do Differently

The best Easters I’ve experienced have always followed a fully observed Holy Week. Palm Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday in Holy Week, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and The Great Vigil of Easter on Holy Saturday. I’m usually thoroughly weary by Easter Sunday morning, but does it ever light up. Taking the time to follow Jesus on his journey through that last week makes it real and rich. We don’t even do anything particularly creative. Just the liturgies as they appear in The Book of Alternative Services straight up and unadorned. It just works.

Lately, we’ve not observed the Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays. When we did—and they helped deliver the best Easters—we would do an early morning Eucharist on Monday with Evening Prayer and even Compline some years, followed by Morning Prayer on Tuesday morning, a Eucharist at noon and Evening Prayer, and then Morning Prayer and a Eucharist around supper time on Wednesday. We did it that way so as many people as possible could experience as many liturgies as possible. It was rich.

Maundy Thursday has always included foot washing exactly as laid out in the book. I’ve never organized anyone to come to have their feet washed before hand. Some always come. We’ve also provided a couple of stations for people to wash one another’s feet. It is so moving to see grandchildren washing their grandmother’s feet and vice versa—wives and husbands, friends. We acknowledge this day is so named because of Jesus’ new commandment (latin: maundate) to love one another. We give thanks for the institution of the Eucharist. Afterwards, the altar is stripped and all the decorations and colour are removed as the lights are extinguished. We depart in silence. It never fails to move me.

Medicine Hat Good Friday’s have always begun for me with the Evangelical Association service in the morning—an extroverted, high energy affair with close to two thousand souls present every year. To miss that out of Anglican liturgical sensitivity would be wrong, especially when I know I can also indulge my Anglican quietism in an hour of silent meditation on The Stations of the Cross in the church in the afternoon before The Celebration of the Lord’s Passion—again, straight out of the book. It’s quiet, holy and lovely.

And then The Great Vigil of Easter on Saturday. We do it at sundown. This year that means 822pm. We light the new fire, process into the darkened church behind the Pascal Candle. Candles are lit and the Exultet is sung as the church is redecorated with hangings and Easter lilies. We listen to lots of Scripture (thirteen readings!) telling the story of our Salvation, we baptize people or re-affirm our baptismal vows and we celebrate the Eucharist. Sometimes we roast marshmallows over a re-kindled new fire out behind the hall afterwards. It’s wonderful.

Finally, it’s Easter morning. Jesus Christ is risen today! Lively. Joyful. All the more luminous because of the quiet, darker days before.

I’m a soon to be retired Anglican priest and I’m okay.

On Retirement and Things I Would or Would Not Do Differently

As retirement approaches I find myself wondering about what I think I’d do differently if I were starting out again.

One thing I wouldn’t change is being Anglican. I love the way we worship. I love the theatre of it, the drama, the colours, the visuals and the way the divine narrative is covered year after year whether we want to, or not. I love the amount of Bible in it; read out and set to prayer. I love the way it’s always all about Jesus. It picks me up and carries me along no matter how I’m feeling or how engaged I am.

As always, Matt Marino, Episcopal priest in Arizona, puts it well when he describes how Anglican worship works in one of his The Gospel Side blog pieces: To Donald Miller and anyone else considering dumping church: The church works best when you like it least, in which he quotes another Arizona Episcopal priest, Gil Stafford:

The liturgy is like a rock falling into a stream. It rubs the rough edges off of us week after week, year after year. It is an infinitely slow and quiet transformation that is about being with other rocks in the stream as the Spirit works through the years, the prayers, the Sacraments and the community of faith. 

I love it all; the daily offices, the church year, the chanting, the bread and the wine each Sunday. I love the traditional prayer book worship in Shakespearean language and the contemporary rites according to our rather gracelessly entitled Book of Alternative Services. I love the routine, having to resist ennui, the cycle of the church year, the politically incorrect Scripture passages that slip through on Sunday mornings despite attempts to protect our delicate Anglican sensibilities. I love the Englishness of it and having to abide by the pastoral direction of a bishop. I love the way the liturgical system draws me into something much bigger and older than me. I have to serve it. It is not there to serve me and meet my needs.

Marino describes it in a rather lovely Eugene Peterson-esque way, also in the aforementioned post:

It is a long obedience in the same direction. It is about consuming Jesus and being consumed by him. And, I am convinced, the church works specifically best when we do not like it! When we choose to engage and to cooperate with the prayers, and surrender to the Lord of the prayers, and come, kneel, reach out our hands and receive, and “taste and see that the Lord is good,” then we truly worship.

It works best when I don’t like it. It works best when it doesn’t feel as if it’s meeting my needs or feeding me. I like the awkwardness and real-ness of that.

I’m a soon to be retired Anglican priest and I’m okay.

Towards Another Great Awakening: J Edwin Orr on the Welsh Revival of 1904-1905 and Some Anglican Connections

Listening again to J Edwin Orr, revival historian, in a talk entitled, “Welsh Revival: Facts and Fallacies.” I continue to be intrigued (encouraged, hopeful?) by how the Anglican Church was affected by such great movements of the Holy Spirit. For example:

Handley Moule was the Bishop of Durham. He wrote a prayer that was pasted into every prayer book of the Church of England: 

Revive, O Lord, we humbly beseech thee, the work of Thy saving grace in the Church universal, in our Church of England, in our diocese, in this parish wherein we dwell and in our own hearts; to the conviction and conversion of forgetful souls, to the quickening of thy true disciples in life and witness, and to the glory of Thy Holy Name, through our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. 

I'm going to start praying that for "our Anglican Church of Canada," my diocese, parish and our hearts, too. It's what we need.

Orr goes on to describe how some Anglican bishops of the time responded to what was going on:

Thirty bishops of the Church of England met together to discuss what should be the attitude of the Church of England to the revival. The first speaker, a bishop, said, “Fathers and brethren, I’ve just come from Shropshire, where in a single parish church, I confirmed 950 new converts. The bishops voted for the revival.

I'm glad to hear it.  I wonder if the results would be the same today.

I love stories like this:

The Bishop of London was a high churchman but according the record it said he laid aside his mitre, cope and staff, and started holding evangelistic missions in London starting in Lancaster Gate with 2,000 people.

In response to a question, Orr also spoke of the earlier state of the society in the United States after the American Revolution and before the French Revolution:

The Lutherans were so badly off they discussed amalgamating with the Episcopalians to try and prop each other up. The Episcopal Church in the States was so moribund, that Samuel Provost, the Bishop of New York, quit functioning because he had confirmed no one for years. He decided to look for other work. 

I am uncomfortably reminded of how the Anglican Church of Canada and the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Canada are trying to work together these days. The language is "missional" and there's always some good in Christians working towards unity, but mutual propping-up of their "progressive" agendas is the reality, I fear. A real concern for people coming to old-fashioned saving faith in Jesus is either missing or buried so deeply that it would be little more than the unintended consequence of an afterthought.

Listen to Orr's whole talk here. It is one of a wonderful collection of his talks and writings here.

Going to The Office—Daily.

For the last two weeks I've been led to talk prayer; at StB two Sundays ago and in Saskatchewan last weekend at Emmanuel, St Louis; St Stephen's, MacDowall and St George's, Prince Albert. On October 20th at StB it was the gospel of the day and Jesus telling the parable about the "need to pray always and not to lose heart" in Luke 18:1. Last weekend in Saskatchewan it was The Following Jesus Weekend which culminated in the Rule of Life on page 555 of The Book of Common Prayer with its reference to "the practice of private prayer, Bible-reading and self discipline."

We Anglicans have no excuse. The Daily Offices; Morning and Evening Prayer, with their associated lectionaries, are simply brilliant. It doesn't matter how I feel, how articulate I am, how holy or spiritual I am feeling, the offices in either book, The Book of Common Prayer, The Book of Alternative Services, not to mention the Church of England's online offices, will pick me up with words of Holy Scripture set to prayer and carry me aloft into the heavenlies where the winds of God can whip through my hair. They will for you, too.

In "Breaking the Habit," over at The Community, Laura Marie Piotrowicz writes of the importance of "going to the office" every day:

My daily office is important to me; it keeps me grounded and connected and helps me find a holistic spirituality to my day. Establishing the habit of the daily office took some discipline, and I do my best not to break it. It doesn’t necessitate a lot of resources (there’s an app for that!), it doesn’t take a lot of time, but there is much benefit. As one person recently said at our bible study, it’s a chance to be “close and sweet with God.” 

So I live the habit. I pray, daily, because I choose to. It’s important to me to include prayer in my daily routine, as the practice enhances my day.

You can read Laura's whole piece here.

The offices, of course, are liturgy. Some people find liturgy repetitive and, therefore, tedious. Too bad. I need repetition because I leak and I forget. Some people call liturgy empty ritual. So fill it. Matt Marino over at his excellent The Gospel Side blog has something to say about liturgy and repetition in his "Spiritual Baseball: the unlikely path to intimacy with Jesus":

What I discovered was that the power is precisely in the repetition…that, as a rough rock in a stream becomes a smooth stone from years of water flowing over it, the Christian is formed into the image of God when we surrender ourselves to the three-fold pattern of daily immersion in the Scriptures, weekly feeding in the Eucharist, and the annual cycle of the Christian year, combined with contemplative practices like those of the desert fathers. I have found that these are re-orienting my perception of reality, the way I view time, life, and the world around me, in ways that words on a page cannot fully capture. It is freeing me to love those who oppose me and work for the good of those who seek my harm.

You may not be interested in walking the path to the ancient Church, known in Anglicanism as “the Canterbury trail.” I was not either. Ironically it is a journey that has given a depth to my walk with Christ that I never imagined. Like someone who has never tasted ice-cream, I didn’t know what I was missing.

His whole piece is worth a read, as usual, especially since it's World Series time.

Going to the office, daily, is a great way to pray always and not lose heart whether I feel like it, or not.

++Rowan on Authority, the Covenant and an Holy Flash Mob

Thoughts arising from the Presidential Address by the Archbishop of Canterbury at ACC-15 recently.

On Authority

When the people say of Jesus that he speaks with authority, not like the experts, I don’t think they mean that he’s simply a good problem solver. Those words occur when Jesus has performed spectacular acts of liberation. The authority in question is an authority to act and an authority to make a difference. An authority that enables and empowers. 

The Archbishop thinks the Communion needs to be more about enabling authority, which "astonishes people" and out of which liberation comes, than corrective authority.

I don’t say that the one removes the need for the other. I don’t say that the one is more vital than the other. But I do believe that the one is more distinctively of the Gospel than the other. 

Yet, enabling authority ought not to trump corrective authority with what the Bible calls sin.

The Covenant

I still hope and pray, speaking personally, the Covenant has a future, because I believe we do have a message to give the Christian world about how we can be both catholic and orthodox and consensual, working in freedom, mutual respect and mutual restraint. Without jeopardising the important local autonomy of our Churches, I think we still need work on that convergence of our schemes and systems, and I say that because I believe we all need to wake up to the challenges here if we are not to become less than we aspire to be as a Communion.

Shared orthodoxy and mutual restraint have been the biggest challenge.

Holy Flash Mob

I love the way the Archbishop referred to the work of Christchurch young people after the earthquake as a "flash mob of grace." That would be a good way to describe the revival I've been on about in previous posts. Pray for the church to be transformed into one.

Worth the read. All here.

Anglican Drift: Canadian Dioceses and Same Sex Blessings, the Anglican Consultative Council and the Bible in the Life of the Church Project

…upset with the continuing drift in the Anglican world. 

Canada 

The Anglican Essentials Canada Blog recently reported that the Diocese of Rupert’s Land has now joined British Columbia, New Westminster, Edmonton, Niagara, Huron, Ottawa, Toronto, Montreal, and Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island in making the blessing of same sex unions possible. That's a third of the dioceses in the Anglican Church of Canada. 

It seems that in deciding not to make a decision on the matter, General Synod 2010 was not so much allowing time for growing consensus as making the way clear for dioceses to go ahead severally. There has been no intention of holding off for the sake of the communion. It's hard not feel duped. 

The Anglican Consultative Council meeting in NZ

Things are not much better on the international level. Canon Phil Ashey, Chief Operating and Development Officer for the American Anglican Council writes: 

In terms of what seems to be emerging, I would respectfully suggest the following as a “pincer” movement that ACC/ACO is going to place upon confessing Anglicans: 

1. Through Continuing Indaba dialogue and stories, bolstered by the work of the Bible in the Life of the Church (BILC) resources, Biblical interpretation of human sexuality and its limits will be rendered value-neutral with no limits on Biblical interpretation within the Communion. Lambeth 1.10 will be declared in effect non-binding; 

2. Then, through the new Code of Conduct and the Safe Church resolution, any objection to sexual expressions that are not Biblical will be deemed “harassment,” chilling any speech and bringing consequences to those who, in Anglican communion meetings, dare to raise the subject. 

I pray I am mistaken, but that is my best look into the future. 

…also from The Anglican Essentials Canada Blog and just as disturbing. 

Bible in the Life of the Church

There was a report from the Bible in the Life of the Church project at the Anglican Consultative Council meeting in New Zealand. Why do such projects so rarely call for deeper submission to Scripture in the Anglican world? On the contrary, the authority and reliability of Scripture is constantly called into question. Personal experience, a culture of victimhood and postmodern progressive cultural mores trump the Scripture every time.  

Anglican Down Under comments on the Anglican Consultative Council and the report:

if its celebration of the report on the Bible in the Communion is a guide, any time there is disagreement about truth, we celebrate our diversity instead of mourning our loss of unity. Such response is scandalous, a stumbling block to true Christian "progress"…

Celebrating diversity constantly is a shell game, an avoidance of the hard work finding the truth involves. The point of theology is to seek truth. Stopping when the going gets hard with a celebration of diversity of viewpoint is intellectual laziness. We will only progress as a Communion when we repent of our apathy and move forward zealous for the truth.

But then, there's no longer such a thing as objective truth. All is relative.

Anglican Down Under, also shared this comment on the project: 

After three and half years of worldwide research, the Bible in the Life of the Church project has found that Anglicans around the globe share “a high common ground” over the essential place and use of the Bible in Anglican life. 

How can a communion which can't agree on whether it is even God's Word possibly have a "high common ground"? And that's before we get onto interpretation, criticism, contextualisation etc. The authors appear to have done a thorough job in their research, but it doesn't seem to pass the common sense test. Why is our communion falling apart if we all agree on our foundational text and its meaning for us today?

To me it always feels like the truth of Scripture and the importance and uniqueness of Jesus as Saviour is always being called into question and watered down. I continue to be saddened by it all.

Thoughts on the Anglican Via Media Between Protestant and Catholic

Richard Beck over at Experimental Theology keeps getting amongst me. This morning in his review of Chris Haw's From Willow Creek to Sacred Heart, a case for Roman Catholicism, in which he (Beck) notes: 

The problem is this. Protestantism worships at the altar of individualism. In this Protestantism is the great handmaiden of the Enlightenment. The highest authority in Protestantism isn't God or the Bible. The highest authority is the individual conscience. If you don't like the particular teachings of a church you just walk away. Or start your own church. Thus the history of fracturing, spiting, and ramifying we've seen throughout Protestant history. There is one Catholic church. How many Protestant churches? Exactly. That's the point. And the problem. With the individual conscience as the final arbiter there is nothing that holds Protestantism together.

But Chris's argument goes even deeper. These divisions within Protestantism are often motivated by the conceit that you can get beyond or behind the tradition to the "real Jesus." But as Chris points out, there is no Jesus outside of the tradition. There is no pure Jesus, a Jesus uncontaminated by the tradition. In fact, the tradition is what gives us Jesus. Thus, to love Jesus is to love the tradition that brings you Jesus. The two are of a piece. To love Jesus is to love the church tradition that brings you Jesus.

All here. 

To the extent that we Anglicans are Protestant, we share that, especially as individual conscience is made our highest authority for matters such as sexuality, on Jesus being the only way to salvation and even financial stewardship, but especially as we continue to fragment. Even our Catholicness is a fractured, disconnected thing. 

Sigh.

Why I Stay: a Response to Kate (and others who might be wondering)

My response to a challenge from Kate on this post where she asks why my "time, talents and money are still with the ACoC."

Time and Talents
Here is my—what? Rationale? Too strong a word, perhaps, it's more a heart-faith thing for me. I'm not sure I can defend it all that well. However, here goes:

• I am not aware that the LORD has given me permission to leave my post
• Radner's observation in Hope Among the Fragments seems to apply to me; i.e., we have two choices: go to Rome, or stay. Further splits are a problem for me. 
• Jeremiah didn't leave…an example there
• Jesus seems to suggest that both wheat and weeds ought to be allowed to grow together for now. I am uncomfortably aware of my own weediness should the weeds be gathered and burned at the moment.
• I'd have to leave too many of the people I love and was called to serve at StB
• to support my Bishop

All that said, I do not like the way in which some ACoC bishops and dioceses treat ANiC folk. The property grab (see my naughty doodle here) and use of secular courts is very unlovely. Do I find it comfortable in the ACoC? No. Do I think my staying will change its course? No. But following Jesus is not as much about my personal tastes and comfort as it is being obedient, nor is it as much about being effective and right as faithful. And this is where I've been put.

I have to confess I rather envy (sin, I know) the folk who have left. It sounds wonderful to be among like-minded people in a growing, tension free (or at least tension free-er) community.

Money
My tithe is due to the LORD through my local church. It seems to me that has little to do with whether I approve of what is done with the money or not. I don't always approve of the way my own congregation uses it. If folk further up the line misuse that money they will have to answer for that.

…and So?
Not very tidy or well reasoned, but that's about it. See here for a previous attempt at answering the same question based on some better reasoned arguments from smarter folk than me.

Progess or Backwardness: David Warren on the Vancouver Riot

In his usual straight forward manner, David gets right in amongst it:

Nor is Vancouver to be especially condemned, for something that could happen and has happened elsewhere. What makes Vancouver interesting is that it is socially more "advanced" - has gone farther down the road to which all Canadian society has been trending. It is Canada's most "progressive" city. We see here what that progress has been toward; what lies just under the surface of all that smileyface, laid-back, "inclusivity."
Compare Calgary, whose Flames both won and lost Stanley Cup finals without property damage. Among large Canadian cities, Calgary is supposedly most "backward." It is the redneck town; the wild west of oil rigs and cowboy capitalism. We need more such enterprising backwardness.

I find myself reminded of what these last few months and years has shown to be lying "just under the surface of that smileyface, laid-back, 'inclusivity'" of some of our "progessive" Anglican bishops. Perhaps we, too, need more enterprising "backwardness"—especially when it comes to Holy Scripture and our rich tradition.

All here. 

Easter Monday Reading: a Buechner Memoir—"Telling Secrets"

Reading Buechner for the first time. Telling Secrets: a Memoir (HarperSanFrancisco, 1991)—a delicious writer—just as they say. Almost uncomfortably honest when he writes of his own life. Hard things. But these gems, too:

on Preaching

to proclaim a Mystery before which, before whom, even our most exalted ideas turn to straw. It is also to proclaim this Mystery with a passion that ideas alone have little to do with. It is to try to put the Gospel into words not the way you would compose an essay but the way you would write a poem or a love letter—putting your heart into it, your own excitement, most of all your own life. It is to speak words you hope may, by grace, be bearers not simply of new understanding but of new life both for the ones you are speaking to and also for you. 61

Reminiscent of Wesley's "come and watch me burn."

on Pluralism

On the atmosphere he found while teaching a course on preaching at Harvard Divinity School:

The danger of pluralism is that it becomes factionalism, and that if factions grind their separate axes too vociferously, something mutual, precious, and human is in danger of being drowned out and lost. 64

… not to mention a sense of humour.

Buechner's Harvard experiences remind of my seminary days. I remember the feminists even protesting the Senior Stick's (ie, student president) ceremonial object of office, a walking stick, as being too phallic. The pluralism which presently reigns in the Anglican church has resulted in the kind of factionalism Buechner describes.

an Anglican Quest

Interesting that while teaching at Wheaton College Buechner found his ideal church in an Anglican one: St Barnabas—which he called an "evangelical high Episcopal church." When his teaching was done and he left Wheaton, he spent the years, at least up to 1991 when he wrote Telling Secrets, in a vain search for one like it.

That's the thing about Anglican. Even with it's present challenges, when you experience it at its best, it spoils you for any other kind of worship.

On Fighting the Good Fight Persuasively: Faithful Discipleship

I'm reading some good stuff by Tullian Tchividjian over at The Gospel Coalition these days. For example, this quote on discipleship:

Our task as faithful disciples is proclaimed by the Welsh poet Ethelwyn Wetherald: 

My orders are to fight;
Then if I bleed, or fail,
Or strongly win, what matters it?
God only doth prevail.
The servant craveth naught
Except to serve with might.
I was not told to win or lose—
My orders are to fight.

…and this by persuasion rather than by coercion.

True of the battle going on in Anglicanism these days, me thinks.

All here.

Anglican Homosexuality Discernment Down Under

The Kiwi's have been doing some studying and talking on the subject at a recent hui (gathering). Some bits and pieces remind me of some of the things I heard and thought in our General Synod 2010 sexuality discernment discussions. I was concerned that our discussion needed to include Scripture. On that subject, Anglican Down Under, Peter Carrell, writes:

We may have begun to say to ourselves that our reading of Scripture corporately is something we cannot sidestep. Holy Scripture is our Holy Scripture. We may, in this (new) beginning, be realising two things. First, that Scripture says what it says about sexuality (including homosexuality). Despite some creative hermeneutical explorations around the possibility of concluding that Scripture does not say what the church has thought it has been saying, it does say what it says (i.e. an overall negative approach to homosexuality). Secondly, that it is possible that we may need to go beyond Scripture because we face a new situation, unknown when the Bible was written. A ‘going beyond’ akin to what we have done on matters such as usury and remarriage of divorced persons. Yet it is notable that on those two matters our church has gone forward together. (Read the whole post here) 

From another of his blogs (I don't know where he finds the time), Hermeneutics and Human Dignity, he adds:

Can we be honest to ourselves as a whole church and acknowledge that on matters such as usury and remarriage of divorcees we have faced Scripture, which on a plain reading bans usury and permits remarriage of divorcees under the narrowest of extenuating circumstances, we have gone 'beyond' Scripture to find a way forward which embraces social reality and expresses grace and compassion? If we were agreeable about what we have done on these matters, could we then find a way forward together (for that by and large is what we have achieved on usury and remarriage) on homosexuality? [For the record, my immediate thoughts on this question are that this set of questions does not necessarily lead to a quick and satisfactory answer because there are plenty of nuances to consider, including the fact that embracing usury has in times and places contributed to human misery, and the church generally has not changed its mind that divorce is not something to celebrate ...] (The whole post

 here) 

That's the issue and the question that must be answered, it seems to me. Scripture is clear enough, but can we go beyond it with any integrity? Difficult as it is, I think not. An unnamed hui participant commented on the discussion: 

I remain convinced that scripture is relatively clear on the issues of sexuality, and remain committed to the force of Scripture’s voice. I am, however, utterly challenged by the reality of dealing pastorally with all that happens in our world and church – and most especially, by the deep needs, pain and worth of people.” (From anglicantaonga, "Face-to-face with the Text of Terror," here)

 I, too, feel that challenge and have done for years. I felt it at General Synod when I heard the pain of the homosexual folk. But for me, the love with which I commanded to treat them does not mean I am free to say yes to the changes in doctrine they want. To love, sometimes also means saying no.

Agnostic Anglicanism

Gallican Anglican, another Kiwi, on the erosion of the faith as revealed:

From the first century to the present day it has been for the love of the Lord Jesus Christ and for the hope of heaven that the saints and martyrs have lived and died. Or were Perpetua and her companions thrown to the lions for ecology and cultural safety? If you are despairing and dying, will inclusive language and social justice see you right? When you are desperate to find a meaning and a purpose to life, will sustainable living and biculturalism provide the answer? I rather doubt it. 

Much of Canadian Anglicanism is being subsumed into such a politically correct, post modern soup, only we are multi, rather than bi, cultural.

All here.

I'm an Anglican and I'm Okay!

This is the first post in a brand new category: I'm an Anglican and I'm Okay! In this category I'm going to write about what I like about Anglicanism and being Anglican. Even though I think the Anglican Church of Canada has lost its way, there are many thinks I like, even love, about things Anglican.

For example, I love that we've had Archbishops of Canterbury (George Carey) who write things like this:

Let’s not have any truck with bland theology, that Jesus is just one option among many. Dialogue with other faiths is very important, but I can respect another faith and a believer of that faith by saying I believe that Jesus Christ is the only way of salvation. Do with that truth what you may, but my job is to say that to you.

...and Arcbbishops of York (I don't know which one) who say or write things like this:

Anglicanism stands not for tolerance for the sake of compromise, but comprehension for the sake of truth.

Jesus and truth. They go together, even in Anglicanism.

I love that we have priests like Lynette Kent, who used to be in Leduc, Alberta (or still is?) who describes herself as an

evangelical traditional charismatic contemplative Anglican Christian with leanings toward high churchmanship.

...and that reminds me of something I read in The Anglican Digest (Transfiguration 1997, p15) and noted in my journal—one Edward Fudge (what a great name!) of Houston, Texas writing about the appeal of Anglicanism as a marvelous mixture of Protestant and Catholic and quoting a fellow called Alexander Campbell who’s style was to

adorn my hat with feathers plucked from birds of many colours.

And so, here I am, an Anglican. I wonder why some days. But then I adjust my feathered hat at a jaunty angle so I can, as George Carey suggests, keep on trucking with the good stuff.

Anglicans in The Da Vinci Code

I'm reading The Da Vinci Code (finally) and more on it later. In the meantime, a quote from one of Brown's characters, Leigh Teabing on Anglicans:

Anglicans drink their religion straight. Nothing to distract from their misery. 

Things that make me go, "Hmmm."