Selva Oscura

Sermon Notes 18th Pentecost

2008-09-13T16:08:00.000-07:00

18th Pentecost (Proper 19A)
September 14, 2008

Preaching on forgiveness is like fishing in a bucket.
• Really a no brainer.
• Very popular topic.
To check this idea I searched for books on the topic
on Amazon(dot)com.
Quite a treasure trove of titles.
Choosing Forgiveness: Your Journey to Freedom
Forgive to Live: How Forgiveness can Save Your Lifeto name just two.

Something I noticed is that many treat forgiveness
as the path to personal psychological wellness.
It is about us getting over the emotional wounds
that inhibit a rich and happy life.
Forgiveness becomes primarily therapeutic.
Kind of a “Dr. Philization” of a core concept of the Xn life.

Now, there is nothing wrong
with finding an inner healing in the act of forgiveness.
I have spoken over the years with too many people
scarred from stored up resentments and anger.

But to focus almost entirely on this aspect
is to miss the heart of what the New Testament means when it speaks of forgiveness.

For Jesus forgiveness is an action
that finds it source in the abundance of mercy
in the heart of Θ,
and finds full expression in reconciling the estranged and restoring community in justice and peace under Θ.
It is primarily outward and communal,
and secondarily inward and emotional.
We might define forgiveness as

an encounter between the injured and the injurer in which the truth of the injury is made known, responsibility is taken, and a new beginning is offered.
-sermon, Proper 19 September 2002

This sense of forgiveness is evident
in today’s Gospel reading.

The reading comes from an important section of Matthew’s Gospel
• Jesus teaches disciples about the nature of Θ’s kingdom & the role of the disciples in this new action of Θ
• Not a kingdom of power and domination
• A reign of mercy, restoring broken relationships btwn us & God, and between people estranged from one another.

The purpose of being God’s people, the church,
is not our own spiritual growth,
but to live as a people of the kingdom
that the world may hope
in the promise of the Lord.
Thus, how we live together,
dealing with conflict,
seeking reconciliation,
is a testimony to what God is doing
thru the death and resurrection of Jesus XP.

After all Jesus’ admonitions to the disciples,
Peter now interjects
& asks if there are any limits
to this action of mercy:
"Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?"

The answer Jesus gives,
both in his quick response to the question
(“77 times or 7x70”)
and the following parable,
signifies that there is no limit to forgiveness.

Indeed, at the heart of the kingdom
is this incredible overabundance of mercy.
The parable speaks of an outrageously forgiving King, having forgiven a debt of what amounts
to millions of dollars,
while the servant, the recipient of mercy
refusing to extend forgiveness for a paltry sum.

The social reality created by the action of the King
is that of redemption and reconciliation.
It is now to be the nature of the web of relationships
in the realm.
But the servant refuses to live in that reality.

So we as the people of God,
we are to live in the new reality
created by the grace of Jesus XP.
In XP God forgives the manifold injustices and sins
of human history,
as well as our own sins and injustices.
Not to extend such mercy with one another
is to choose exile from the Kingdom of grace.
It is to say “I do not want to live in your kingdom.”

When I was a kid I had an aquarium in my bedroom.
I remember that I had one fish
that against all common sense
would jump out of the tank when the top was off. One day when I wasn’t watching it jumped out,
and that was the end of it.

To be in the Kingdom is to be a fish
swimming in an ocean of divine mercy.
(Remember how the prophets describe
the coming Kingdom
“the earth shall be full of the glory of God as the waters cover the sea.”)
To refuse the work of forgiveness
is to cast ourselves up on the beach,
unable to move,
unable to thrive,
unable to live.

This is not to say that forgiveness is easy work,
especially as the full result is to be the renewal
of relationship and community.
And certainly there are plenty of hard situations
where reconciliation is difficult or impossible.
• We would not ask the abused to instigate reconciliation with the abuser which might well result in further injury and pain.
• And certainly we cannot restore a relationship with someone who has died.
Yet I believe these hard cases must still be considered within the wider context of what Jesus means
by the mercy of the Lord and the Kingdom of God.
& we trust in XP to accomplish the reconciliation
that is beyond us,
and hope in the restoration promised
through the power of ’ resurrection.

When we do engage in the deep mercy of God,
& share the forgiveness of the Risen XP,
the possibility of reconciliation
that passes all understanding
breaks into our divided world.

Certainly we all remember the power of the photos
of John Paul II meeting with his would-be assassin. But there are other icons of mercy to celebrate as well.

As Korea continues to face the painful division
of their nation,
and try to envision reconciliation
in the midst of decades of violence and hate, the church recalls the story of Pastor Son Yang-Won.

Pastor Son was a leader among Korean Xns
when he was imprisoned by the Japanese for refusing to worship in a Shinto shrine in fealty to the Emperor.
In 1948 his two sons were sharing their Xn faith
with Communist rioters during an insurrection
and were both shot to death.
Pastor Son publicly forgave the shooter,
petitioned for the death penalty to be commuted,
and then adopted the murderer as his own child.
In time Pastor Son would give his own life for the Gospel.

He will always be remembered not only as a martyr,
but also as the image of the abundant mercy of God.

The way of forgiveness is a difficult road.
And while we will discover healing for our wounded souls, the gift we offer in the work of reconciliation
is no only for ourselves, but for the world.
We forgive with abundance
that all may know the Kingdom manifested thru
the grace of our Lord Jesus XP,
the love of God,
and the deep fellowship of the Holy Spirit.

AMEN.

A Welcome to the New Guy

2008-08-18T21:52:00.000-07:00

Well, I blogged again, as evidenced by the post below. It is owed largely to the Alta Californian calling me out.

A welcome to him!

"What If?": Constantine and the Problem of Counter-Factual Consciousness

2008-08-18T21:35:00.000-07:00

Currently bouncing in my backseat is Ian Kershaw’s Fateful Choices: Ten Decisions that Changed the World, 1940-1941, which details a series of decisions made beginning with England’s decision not to sue for peace with the Nazis and finishing with the decision that results in the Wansee Conference of January 1942. Along with a fascinating discussion of the decision making processes of the democracies and the dictatorships, Kershaw finishes each chapter with a brief foray into counter-factual history: What if Hitler had decided not to invade the Soviet Union? What if Churchill’s War Cabinet decided to seek terms from the Nazis? While addressing such questions, Kershaw does so only tentatively, and without projecting the results of other options outside of the briefest of timeframes. He, in fact, raises the problem of counter-factual history within the introductory chapter of the book. He writes:

This is not counter-factual or virtual history of the type which makes an intellectual guessing game of looking into some distant future and projecting what might have happened had some event not taken place. There are always too many variables in play to make this a fruitful line of enquiry, however fascinating the speculation. Nevertheless, it could fairly be claimed that historians implicitly operate with short term counter-factuals in terms of alternatives to immediate important occurrences or developments. Otherwise, they are unable fully to ascertain the significance of what actually did take place. So the alternatives discussed here are not advanced as long-term projections or musings on ‘what ifs’, but as realistic short term, but different, possible outcomes to what was in fact decided. Putting it another way, assessing the options behind a particular decision helps to clarify why, exactly, the actual decision was taken. (Fateful Choices, p. 6)

While counter-factual history is often quite enjoyable to entertain, Kershaw’s comments are well-taken. The historian who opines that if the British had been victorious at the American Revolution, then our forces would have come into World War I more quickly to more completely defeat the Germans, and thus preclude the rise of Hitler is playing with too many variables to have any credibility.

I raise this because it seems that a certain strand of contemporary theological thought is grounded in a counter-factual historical consciousness that wants to ask “what if the church had not capitulated to Constantine and the beginning of ‘Christendom’?” Or perhaps it is better stated, since the interlocutors have such a vested interest in the issue “Only if the church had not capitulated!” The result is a wistful and romantic longing for a church history that never occurred, and forces the theologian to posit a fall from ecclesiological grace from which we must recover. (I hope to write more on the thought of an ecclesiastical fall in another post.) Evidence of such thinking is to be found in theologians such as Stanley Hauerwas and Emerging Church writer Alan Hirsch. (Hirsch, who’s The Forgotten Ways I am also reading, does it with a superficial reading of church history.)

But while I am not an historian, I do find myself asking if the early Christians who did accept first the cessation of imperial Roman hostility to Christianity in the Edict of Milan, followed by the conversion of Constantine and the establishment of Christianity as the religion of the empire under Theodosius (not Constantine!) in 392, might have made other decisions at that time. Are we not anachronistically projecting back an American understanding of the separation of church and state that would have made little sense to those early Christians? Are we suggesting that in 313 when Rome begins to tolerate the exercise of the Faith that the church would respectfully refuse such toleration in favor of continued martyrdom? Do we expect that they would read the Lord’s call to make disciples of all nations in a modern American fashion that they would preach to individuals from many ethnicities, or rather they would understand the term “nation” in a more political sense? Would they not see the conversion of the empire in a positive light?

Alan Hirsch cites Rodney Stark to the effect that Constantine “destroyed [Christianity’s] most attractive and dynamic aspects” (The Forgotten Ways, p. 60). Yet, can we imagine with any coherence an alternate history? Yes, of course Christians did not always respond the most faithfully to the warp and woof of historical change. But God also seems to have responded by raising up reformers and movements to recall the church to its vocation: Benedict, Francis, Dante, Catherine, Thomas More, and the like.

My challenge is that we might get over our counter-factual historical consciousness and look at our heritage neither dismissively as would Hauerwas and Hirsch, nor romantically, but realistically, learning from our errors while still seeing evidence of the Lord of history leading his people in season and out of season.

Where do we get the time?

2008-06-27T10:23:00.001-07:00

Check out the video linked here:
Where do we get the time?

Posted using ShareThis

I stumbled upon this today and found it very interesting in what it suggests for liturgy and ecclesial practice today. The idea of media shifting from consumption (TV) to a "triathalon" of consumption, production, and sharing, or rather looking at media in a more participative mode than simply receptive should have profound implications for how we "do church."

Hat tip to Quo Vadis

New Apostles' Creed

2008-06-19T12:39:00.000-07:00

Morning Meditation, June 4

2008-06-04T12:39:00.000-07:00

“A man is only perfectly a man when he consents to live as a son of God.”
-Thomas Merton
No Man is an Island

The operative term here is “consents.” It is always the temptation to race ahead to asking how one lives as a son of God; how I am to accomplish this feat of being God’s child? But it begins not with action. Rather it is consent to the divine action already done on my behalf. It is submission. It is yielding to the work of the Spirit. “Let it be unto me according to thy word.” It is interior abandonment. Thus it is born not in anguish and effort but in peace.

To begin with my effort is to stir up my passions to hurl myself toward my goal. To begin with consent is to find what the Eastern Christians call apatheia, a deep reservoir of peace and love that empowers us.

Icons of the Consenting Heart:
“Let it be unto me…”
“Not my will, but thine be done.
“In manus tuus, Domine…”

Hey Kids! Catch the Theological Error!

2008-04-01T11:38:00.000-07:00

Rather like the games in kids’ magazines where they have to spot the errors, I offer this from the Episcopal seminary on the West Coast, Church Divinity School of the Pacific. In a recent fund raising appeal leaflet they have the following slogan:

Challenging the mind
Nurturing the Spirit
Engaging the world

Did you catch it?

It is the uppercase ‘S’ with which Spirit is rendered that has me scratching my head.

Just what “Spirit” do they have in mind here? Is this the Holy Spirit? If so, then how can CDSP be said to “nurture” the Spirit? Does the seminary exist to nurture God? If so, then I have a concern about their understanding about the immutability of God.

Or perhaps they have become a Process Theology school. While troubling, at least that might be theologically coherent.

Or maybe they are thinking the human spirit. That could conceivably be within the purview of the seminary. But then why the uppercase here but not for “mind” or “world.” Is there some sort of divinization of the human spirit at work here.

It is either sloppiness, non-Christian theology, or both.

In any event, they will not be receiving a pledge from me for money.

A Continuing Challenge to the Church

2008-01-21T16:14:00.000-08:00

Sermon Notes: 2nd Epiphany

2008-01-20T23:48:00.000-08:00

2nd Epiphany (Year A)
January 20, 2008

There is in a dark secluded room of Hogwart’s School
a large mirror with mystical properties.
One day young 11 year old wizard Harry Potter
stumbles upon it and is transfixed.
You see, in its reflection Harry sees his parents,
killed by the evil Lord Voldemort ten years before, standing with him in the mirror.
Day after day Harry returns
to behold himself in the mirror with his parents. His life seems absorbed by what he gazes upon.

Finally, Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster, intervenes. He tells Harry that it is called the Mirror of Erised,
and asks if Harry has figured out
what the mirror does.
Harry answers
“it shows us what we want… Whatever we want?”

Dumbledore responds,

Yes, and no. It shows us nothing more or less then the deepest and most desperate desires of our hearts…. Now you Harry, who have never known your family you see them standing beside you…. But remember this, Harry. This mirror gives us neither knowledge or truth….
Men have wasted away in front of it. Even gone mad… It does not do to dwell on dreams, Harry, and forget to live.

Sometimes I wonder if we approach XP as though he were the Mirror of Erised.
• Come seeking our deepest and most desperate desires
• Bring our hopes and dreams to the Lord: love, purpose, prosperity, happiness.
• But it can be a trap: fixation on ourselves and our desires

For some 25 years churches have been seeking to be just that mirror
• Focusing on ‘felt-needs’
• Self improvement as the door to knowing XP
• But results in a self-absorbed people
• [Example of recent Willow Creek study]

But is it so wrong to seek our desires in XP?
Does Jesus care nothing for our needs and wants?

Indeed he does.
A couple of days after his Baptism in the River Jordan Jesus finds himself being followed by two disciples of John the Baptist.
• John has identified Jesus as the bearer of the hope of Israel.
• It is their “deepest and most desperate desires” that compel the two to follow XP.

As 1st C. Jews they long for
• freedom from Roman oppression,
• recovery of the Covenant Community of Israel
• & reconnection with a sense of Θ dwelling among them

Naturally, most people in their society would also anticipate that these desires would be fulfilled in certain ways:
• The Roman yoke broken through violence.
• Recovery of Covenant and reconnection with Θ through a rigorous and legalistic application of the Law

Jesus does respond to their desires and needs,
asking them “What are you looking for?”
& he invites them to discover what they seek
by staying with him.

And stay w/him they do,
following him from the verge of Jordan
to an upper room in Jerusalem
the night before the crucifixion,
and on until the resurrected and ascended XP
fills them with his Spirit.

And through this
Jesusdoes not so much contradict their desires
as refocus and redefine them.
They long for freedom from oppression,
Jesus frees them thru his death and resurrection
from the power of sin and death
that gives oppression its strength.

They seek a renewal of the Covenant Community of Israel.
XP gathers a new people
from every corner of the earth into his Body.

They desire that Θ again dwell among them.
Jesus, the Son of Θ, reveals Θ’s presence
infusing our worship, fellowship, and service.

In XP, as we know him and follow him,
we discover our heart’s desire.
As St. Paul affirmed,
“All the promises of Θ find their ‘yes’ in him.”
The hopes of all the years point to XP, and in him they find their meaning.

But Jesus is not the Mirror of Erised.
XP does not merely reflect back our desires.
He is the window,
through whom we see the true fulfillment of our hopes in Θ’s Kingdom.

[Example: My cousin’s death
• Discovery of community
• Revelation of risen Jesus in our midst]

As Harry Potter sat in front of the Mirror of Erised
his deepest desire was to overcome the power of death by being in communion
with his departed loved ones.
The entire saga hinges on this desire.

Voldemort himself is willing to torture and kill
to obtain power over death.
In fact his followers are called “Death Eaters.”

Some 7 years after his encounter with the Mirror,
Harry comes into possession of a magical stone
which can contact the dead.
The history of the stone is littered with the broken lives
of those who sought its power
and were driven to madness or violence.
By the end, Harry discovers its uses and its limitations. Ultimately it could not fulfill his deepest desire.

The answer to his longing is actually discovered
–rather cryptically-
earlier in the final volume.
It is when Harry visits his parents grave
and reads these words on the headstone:
‘The last enemy that
shall be destroyed is death.”Harry is unfamiliar with the reference, but we shouldn’t be.
It is St. Paul writing about the triumph
of the Crucified and Risen Jesus,
defeating death thru his passion.

Harry’s longing will be fulfilled,
but in a way beyond anything he could ask or imagine.

XP is our epiphany, the light shinging in a dark world.
But he is not only the shining ofrth of Θ’s glory.
He is the revelation of the meaning
of our deepest desires.

Today he asks us
“What are you looking for?”
Let us remain with him,
and in him find both our lives
and our longings transformed by his presence.

Glory to God whose power, working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine: Glory to him from generation to generation in the Church, and in Christ Jesus for ever and ever. Amen.

Ephesians 3:20, 21

Sermon Notes: Baptism of Jesus

2008-01-20T23:24:00.000-08:00

Baptism of Jesus (Year A)
January 13, 2008

Regular diversion of reading history
Find compelling stories of individuals
who made a difference in the course of human events
• [Parting the Waters, Taylor Branch, on MLK]
• [His Excellency, Joseph Ellis, on Geo. Washington]

When I read stories like these my imagination is fired,
& I long to make a difference in history myself.

But the feeling quickly fades:
It is enough just to get through life,
making a living,
getting the kids through school.
It is difficult enough to balance our budget,
how could I possibly change the course of history?

I remember the prayer of the Breton fishermen:
“O God, my boat is so small
& the sea is so big.”
Now as a congregation
we can experience a similar range of responses
when we hear the biblical proclamation
of the role in history of Θ’s people:
We are to be the light to the world.

In us the kingdom work of the Lord is to be manifest.
In us
• Peace is known as we reconcile people to Θ and each other.
• Mercy is received as we go forth and practice. forgiveness in a world riven with injury and anger.
• Love is shared with others as XP loved us.
• The healing and hope of the Kingdom is lived out.

We are called to greatness
& our imaginations are fired.
But our zeal quickly fades.
It is difficult enough to maintain the most basic Xn life, how could we possibily change the world for Θ?
“O Θ, our parish is so small
& the world and its needs are so big.”

& yet it seems it is precisely in that place
where we are small and vulnerable
before the challenges before us
that Θ uses us to change the world.
We see this reflected in our reading from Isaiah
in the figure of the Servant of the LORD.

Isaiah sees a world of violence and injustice,
where Θ’s people are oppressed by hostile empires and led astray by the unfaithfulness
within their society.
Thru the Prophet Θ promises the Day of the LORD
that will redeem them, filled with glory and grace.

But how will Θ accomplish this?
Thru the Servant who
• Is small & insignificant by the world’s standards
• Will be despised and rejected
• Yet in his suffering the Day of the LORD will break into the this broken world
• & thus Θ will change history from w/in.

What sets this servant apart
is that the Spirit of the LORD will rest upon him,
& Θ will vest all that he does by the Spirit
with eternal glory and significance.
Great things, history changing things,
will be accomplished by one
who seems insignificant and small,
the one in whom Θ delights.

The baptism of Jesus is the story of the appearance of the Servant of the LORD.
The promise of Isaiah is fulfilled.
And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.’

By some standards Jesus’ life was unremarkable:
• He conquered no empires
• He lived in a remote backwater of the Roman Empire
• & died a lonely death.

& yet everything he did
• healing the sick
• forgiving and reconciling the sinner
• proclaiming the good news of the Kingdom to the poor
was done in the power of the Spirit.
Everything he did,
no matter how small and insignificant it might seem delighted Θ.
& in the resurrection Θ made such small beginnings
into acts of eternal greatness.

Through our baptisms we too participate in Jesus' history changing ministry.
• We are joined w/XP
• We are filled w/the Spirit
• In us now Θ delights
Together we become the presence of the Servant of the LORD.

Therefore
everything we do by the Spirit’s power in Jesus' name
– no matter how small and insignificant it may seem – makes an eternal difference in the history of the world.

[Example: New Monasticism & Hospitality]

If our hearts are enflamed
to make a lasting impact on history
let us strive to live out our Baptismal Covenant,
& even the seemingly small things
will become the stuff from which eternity is fashioned:
• Feeding the homless
• Building classrooms in Mexico
• Raising funds for a tilapia pond in Haiti
• Visiting the sick and lonely
• Sharing XP w/others

Today we baptize Allison and Cameron.
& because they are so small thru them Θ renews in us the truth that Θ does big things with little people.
Today the LORD says to them, and to us,
Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights.

Debate and the Rhetoric of Justice

2007-11-13T14:28:00.001-08:00

I was recently involved in what might be described as an open forum on the issue of supporting the blessing of same sex unions in the Episcopal Church. The conversation was polite and avoided the raw emotionality of such conversations held immediately after General Convention 2003. This is to be lauded. And yet, there were some dynamics at work that give me both pause and a sense of loss and grief.

First I note the loss of the conservative voice in the discussion. Several factors are at play here. First, the stronger conservative voice has already left. In our diocese we have seen of late a series of retirements among the more vocal clergy, as well as flight among the “reasserters” both clergy and lay from such forums or from the Episcopal Church itself. Those who remain, the ones generally labeled the “moderate” conservative voice are largely silent except for supporting procedural decisions that would mitigate the rate of speed of the decided leftward shift. They are defeated and disheartened. No one stood and offered any reasoned critique of the radical shift that is underway in understanding the sacraments and human sexuality from the traditional Christian position. There is a weariness at spitting into the wind. The “mod-cons” are now just holding on as night falls. At best, the clergy among them have become “Anglo-congregationalists” hoping to get a few good years in before they retire. Others are considering leaving for one of the few remaining conservative dioceses left in the country (church statistician Kirk Hadaway counts eleven of them).

Yet another more disturbing factor in the debate has emerged that has chilling ramifications. As the primary proponent of same sex unions opined we could talk about the bible, but when it gets down to it we will just disagree. That part of the conversation is over. So the rhetoric of justice then became the way to speak of why we needed to move ahead now, replete with references to MLK and “justice deferred is justice denied.” The debate assumed a priori that same sex unions (presumably meaning marriage) was the just thing to do. No one has even attempted to show that within the context of sacramental theology that marriage is a basic human right, the denial of which constitutes a fundamental injustice. Or even define the meaning of justice, for that matter. (Alastair MacIntyre, where are you now that we need you?) Is it rationally defensible to equate, say, compulsory racial segregation with defining marriage as a union between a man and a woman?

Be that as it may, framing the issue of one of justice a priori has the effect of silencing debate. The opponents of gay marriage are in this light not only wrong, but immoral. We are unjust. The rhetoric of justice defines us as being in the same category to one degree or another with Bull Connor or the Raj in the days of Gandhi. There can be no dialogue with such folk as us.

At best we can be tolerated, like an old racist uncle, allowed at family gatherings and pitied for being benighted and bereft of enlightenment. But not allowed to spend too much time with the children, lest the contagion of bigotry be spread. (And there have been times that I have been publicly called a bigot and treated like just such a proverbial uncle.)

So, in short, it is over. Night has fallen.

Sabbatical Begins

2007-06-04T17:05:00.000-07:00

Well, my sabbatical officially began today. The first challenge is going to be to overcome the nagging guilt that I really should be in the parish.

But I have to admit, they gave me a nice send-off yesterday morning. The Sr. Warden said a prayer over me as much of the congregation came around to support me in prayer. Then we grilled some burgers and dogs and had a nice lunch on the lawn.

As my studies in this time proceed I may post some of what I am doing here. (That is, when I am near wi-fi. Some of the places I plan to go won't have internet.)

One thing I think I should not attend to is the increasing lunacy of T[p]ECusa and the Anglican Communion. Musing on what has been going on has become a sort of anti-spirituality for me.

I do want to respond to Kyle's response to me, but my focus right now theologically is upon a sort of theology of the mountains, grounded in the doctrines of creation, redemption, and, ultimately, eschatology.

Today's reading:
the section on the mountains in Simon Schama's Landscape and Memory.

Gabriel Marcel's discussion of the difference between the ontology of mystery and of problem in The Philosophy of Existentialism.

Next on the list:
Continue slogging through David Bentley Hart's Beauty of the Infinite and dust off his marvelous little book The Doors of the Sea.

Also in the queue:
Geology of the Sierra Nevada
A Naturalist's Guide to the Sierra Nevada
and another reading of McPhee's wonderful Assembling California

Kyle's Response

2007-05-25T16:20:00.000-07:00

Note: Kyle graciously responded to my earlier post on Apostolic Succession and Validity in the comment section. I post it here for easier reading and reflection.

I also won't be able to make adequate response for a few days as I am off a daughter's college graduation out of town. Blessed Pentecost to all, even those with ecclesial communities of questionable pedigree! ;-)

From Captain Sacrament:
Okay, it's taken some work, but let's see if I'm following you.

You agree that a mechanistic notion of apostolic succession that is looking toward "sacramental validity" is problematic for a number of reasons. I think I see you moving the question way from that into something more foundational: what are the requirements for a Christian community to be a Christian community?

It is important to understand the eschatological action of the Eucharist - and we know that I have long since struck camp there - but what you're telling me is that eschatology only makes sense within a history. I think I understand. It really isn't about conjuring God by pulling all the right levers, but whether it makes sense for us to understand ourselves as the community that God is bringing to completion through that eschatological action. Are we the Church that God in Christ has promised to heal and judge?

When the question is put that way, we might shy away from our pronouncements on other Christian communions, and rather ask how we are and how we can be in continuity with the Church of the ancient martyrs, and with Christ himself. As you say, just like Jesus gathered up Israel into himself and reconstituted it as he received baptism and the descent of the Spirit, and the incarnation was the beginning of New Creation in continuity with the first one, so we must find that place of continuity.

My answer is, as you might suppose, shaped by the work of Hauerwas, Cavanaugh and Williams.

On a related note, I find it interesting that even as Paul "excommunicates" the Corinthians - bans the celebration of the agape feast - there is not a question about whether the Reigning King is present. If any Eucharist would be invalid, it would be the one that shames the poor by highlighting the divisions across the Body of Christ. And yet it is taken entirely for granted that Christ is present, judging and healing. As Cavanaugh says, the Eucharist is performing the Church - it's an instrument of Christ's eschatological transformation of those in communion with Himself who live in the continuity of the story and of that new creation.

In one of his essays in Why Study the Past, RoWill argues that a Christian church that is in continuity with that of ancient, broader faith is one in which the stories of the ancient martyrs make sense. Would those martyrs still die for the faith that we profess and practice? If their deaths are insensible through the lens of our faith, and our faith is insensible through the lens of their deaths, we lack that continuity - we are nto the same church.

I think it's a storied continuity. Do we tell the same stories? Do we understand ourselves to be characters in the same divine drama that our fathers and mothers were? If it's a different story, it's a different religion.

I joke about pomo anglo-catholicism, but I'm getting at something very real. the only chance we have of standing in such a continuity is to make the attempt, to will to receive it even as we beg the Lord for it. I want to preach and practice a faith that is intellible to people to were killed 1800 years ago. I think they - and the Lord - stand in judgment of me if I do not.

Succession, Character, and Validity

2007-05-23T23:04:00.000-07:00

The discussion that Kyle and I have been having on issues of Eucharist, Apostolic Succession, and sacramental validity came up this morning in our Wednesday morning Bible Study as we discussed Luke 8:1-3.

Soon afterwards he went on through cities and villages, proclaiming and bringing the good news of the kingdom of God. The twelve were with him, as well as some women who had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities: Mary, called Magdalene, from whom seven demons had gone out, and Joanna, the wife of Herod’s steward Chuza, and Susanna, and many others [other women: πολλαι], who provided for them out of their resources.

In summation of the debate, while both of us are nonplussed by a mechanical view of the historic episcopate as some pipeline of sacramental validity, I still see the central importance, if not necessity, of the church in Apostolic Succession meaning the chronic persistence of covenantal history as the proper object of the eschatological descent of the Holy Spirit. If I may be so bold to anticipate Kyle’s focus, he is more concerned that the congregation invoking the presence of the Spirit is a community of character. Legitimacy as Church is tied more to the extent the congregation is formed by the Christian narrative.

I would submit that both foci are necessary for ecclesial existence. The creedal marks of the Church include not only apostolicity but, lest we forget, holiness. The church that rests on Apostolic Orders and neglects its sanctification presumes upon the grace of God, which, in turn, will end in the removal of its lamp stand.

What we discussed in the Bible Study today is how we find both of these aspects of the Church’s creedal life reflected in this passage, covenantal continuity and covenantal character. In terms of character we see this in Luke’s focus upon the women who are a part of this new Kingdom community around Jesus. As Tom Wright points out in his remarks on this pericope in Luke for Everyone, the focus is upon a new community formed in Christ bursting through social conventions relating to women that would inhibit the Kingdom being wrought through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. And in the reference to the generosity of the women and their participation in the community Luke anticipates the new community he describes more completely in Acts of the Apostles:

Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved. (Acts 2: 43-47)

But we also need to recognize that the context of this covenantal character is the covenantal continuity represented by the reference to the twelve in the passage from Luke 8. In choosing twelve disciples Jesus is reconstituting spiritually exiled Israel for a new exodus through the Paschal Mystery. As with the choice of Daughter Zion, the Virgin Mary, in Luke 2, the new work of restoring creation is not ex nihilo in either an absolute sense, or in a political one in God choosing a new people instead of Israel. (This has some interesting implications for Jewish-Christian relations, but that is obviously another post.) Jesus constitutes the new messianic Israel in actual and organic continuity with the people of covenantal history going back to Abraham, and not from some “spiritual” or “metaphorical” continuity.

This covenantal continuity is reinforced in the first chapter of Acts as Matthias is chosen to replace Judas among the twelve Apostles. Organic and actual continuity is still the norm, now with the added aspect of being apart of the Kingdom community formed by Jesus and being a witness to his Resurrection. It is within the context of the apostolic band that the Spirit descends on Pentecost (another parallel to the pattern we have noticed in the Annunciation).

When we turn to the question of sacramental “validity” (we need to think about better terminology here), I would affirm that the normative community that both invokes the Spirit and is recipient of sacramental grace. I think this is suggested in the most complete and earliest discussion of the Eucharist in the New Testament, I Corinthians 10 and 11. Paul begins with a typological interpretation of the sacraments of Baptism and Eucharist as the fulfillment of the Exodus experience, manna in the wilderness and water from the rock. The people who receive the sacraments of the new covenant live in continuity with the people of the Exodus. That Paul is thinking organically and realistically rather than metaphorically is evident in his language in Romans about the Gentiles being grafted into the covenant tree of Israel. (Another avenue for inquiry would be to ask if the strictly metaphorical reading of these themes were read back into the New Testament by Protestant theologians to justify the sixteenth century breach with 1500 years of understanding the church in terms of historical continuity, including Apostolic Succession.)

Now, we have seemed to have moved away from the significance of the community of covenantal character. But we do see these two aspects of ecclesial existence come together in the eleventh chapter of I Corinthians. I have already suggested above that Paul affirms the continuity of the Church with the covenant history of Israel in chapter 10. Here at the end of chapter 11 Paul speaks of how the character of the community figures into the reception of the Eucharist:

Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be answerable for the body and blood of the Lord. Examine yourselves, and only then eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For all who eat and drink without discerning the body, eat and drink judgment against themselves. For this reason many of you are weak and ill, and some have died. But if we judged ourselves, we would not be judged. But when we are judged by the Lord, we are disciplined so that we may not be condemned along with the world. (I Corinthians 11:27-32)

By virtue of apostolic continuity the congregation is the recipient of the One invoked in the epiclesis. But the deformed character of the people receives the sacramental presence of the Lord not as grace but as judgment. Apostolic Succession and the holiness of community are necessary correlates. (A broader conversation should also bring unity and catholicity as marks of the Church into perspective as well, but we will leave that for another day.)

We cannot pit the marks of the Church as they have been received in Holy Tradition against one another. In the end I think both Kyle’s concerns and mine must coincide.

Kyle Potter: "Anglicans Gone Wild"

2007-05-23T12:35:00.000-07:00

Kyle offers us another must read with his peceptive reflections on the recent news from Lambeth on who did and didn't get invited to Rowan's slumber party next summer.

A snippet:

No, really. These dudes are off the freakin' chain.

Rowan Williams announced that he's sent the invitations to Lambeth 2008, the big gathering of diocesan bishops of the Anglican Communion. This will be important because at that conference, all the conservative and liberal bishops are going to have a big cage fight to determine which side gets the Anglican trademark, and whether the center of gravity in the AC is going to be officially Canterbury or Abuja.

I don't care what you say, that's totally what's going to happen.

Williams' spokesman has announced that neither Bishop Robinson of New Hampshire (he's the one married to another dude) nor Minns of CANA (the Convocation of Anglicans in North America) will be invited to the big party - which means +VGR will not have the opportunity to use his patented sleeper hold, and the conservatives will not benefit from Minns' Tai Kwan Do.

As Kendall would say, read the whole thing.

As for me, what keeps coming to mind is the old addage, "Those whom the gods would destroy they first make mad."

Which in a strange way puts me in mind of the last words uttered by the Doctor in Bridge on the River Kwai. Hmmm... Rowan as Alec Guiness with the shock of realization before falling on the detonator: "What have I done?"

Response to Kyle Potter on Eucharist, "Validity", and Apostolic Succession

2007-05-21T19:58:00.000-07:00

In a recent post Kyle Potter over at “Vindicated” argues against those, including an Episcopalian bishop, who dismiss the efficacy of the Eucharist as celebrated by the Vine and Branches Community as they do not possess holy orders with Apostolic Succession. I have complete sympathy with his impatience with the opinions of Episcopalians, who trot out the necessity of the Historic Episcopate in a way that suggests the most crass theology of sacramental “validity” as mere historical mechanism, while simultaneously holding incoherent and incommensurate ecclesiologies that render the issue of Succession meaningless. Is the episcopate of the esse, plene esse, or bene esse of the Church, for instance? And if this is so gosh darn important, why have we entered into inter-communion with the ELCA?

But my purpose here is not to support him in his fully justified irritation toward those who are so facilely dismissive of the integrity of the Eucharist at Vine and Branches. Rather it is to respond to what I would consider a rather one sided view of the Eucharist that tends, albeit unintentionally, toward a gnostification of sacramental theology.

Let me begin by quoting him at length:

I do not believe that "legitimacy" is passed down through a mechanical "apostolic succession" down two thousand years of history, such that God can be invoked by some priests and bishops but not others. When I hear an argument that I find convincing, trust me, you'll know.

Here's the thing: remember our little discussion on what sacraments are? The bottom line is that we beg for the healing presence of Jesus that has been promised. I think that the triune God would have a really big and obvious reason for denying our entreaties for the crumbs from his table, and I'm not terribly sure what that would be.

When we start talking about the rules and special circumstances by which God will mediate his presence or not, it seems to me that we move out of the categories of promise and gift, and of begging and humbly receiving, that make Christian sense of the whole thing. Discussions about who has whose ducks all in a row get silly very quickly.

First, let me say that, as I intimated above, that I too find the crass mechanical arguments made about “validity” unconvincing, to say the least. In the mouth of an Episcopalian it reveals how vacuous we have become. Coming from a Catholic it is an exhibition of a certain type of theological laziness that cites the Catechism and various promulgations and encyclicals as proof-texts, and avoiding the richness and nuance of Catholic thought.

No Catholic or Anglican is required to say that the communion as practiced in a congregation outside of Apostolic Orders is null and void of any grace or spiritual benefit to the worshippers. Benedict XVI said as much a year ago, I believe, in the midst of the recent Eucharistic Congress held in Rome. (Catholics, correct me here if I am wrong.) What the Catholic I think would be required to say is that he or she cannot with any assurance precisely what the nature of that grace. In fact, I am reminded of the saying hear from time to time from the Orthodox “We know where the Church is, we do not now where the Church is not.” Perhaps one way of reading some Catholic comments on validity of the Mass would be “we know where the sacrament is, we do not know where it is not.”

Of course, there are other issues here as well, but my main interest is in addressing Kyle’s sacramental theology of promise and gift. He pits “rules and special circumstances” over and against the sheer grace of the liturgical action of invoking the presence of Jesus. His focus is thus upon epiclesis. The Eucharist is primarily epicletic and eschatological. We invoke the Spirit to come upon the oblations to make them the body and blood of Christ. Jesus who is present is not only the one who was crucified and risen, but also the eschatological Lord who presides over the messianic banquet. (See John Zizioulas on “Apostolicity” in Being as Communion for more here.)

Kyle has retained an important aspect of Eucharistic theology often missed both by memorialists on the one hand and those more catholic minded sorts who spout facile ideas of mechanical “validity.” It is not, however, the entire story. If the Eucharist is eschatological epicletic event, then one unintended consequence might be that it renders the chronic continuance of the Church through history as insignificant. By this I mean that if the Church is constituted by the Eucharist, as we see so often in the Fathers from at least Ignatius of Antioch on (not to mention Paul in I Cor.), then the Church is an eschatological event with a problematic relationship with history. Who invokes the Eucharistic presence and their relationship to the diachronic catholicity of the church is immaterial. Does it matter who does the asking, and to whom the promise was made? Does this promise have any chronic continuance beyond the individual believer?

Kyle himself briefly mentions the issue of being a “legitimate church:”

This is bound up in the issue of what makes a legitimate church. (It won't surprise you that I believe it's possible for a congregation to be completely illegitimate as a church, but I have particular ideas about why that might be.)

Is an illegitimate church the recipient of the promise? And who (other than Stan Hauerwas of course) arbitrates what divides the legitimate from the illegitimate church? Are we not then in the same situation as far as sacramental validity that Kyle decries? The added problem here, however, is that we are now employing criteria for validity which are more obscure and capricious than recourse to Apostolic Succession. Can I with any certainty know that my congregation is legitimate enough to invoke the Spirit?

Perhaps it would be best to give a sense of what I would suggest as an alternative, or better a corrective, to this singular focus upon the epiclesis. Let me employ the image of the Annunciation to the Blessed Virgin as a veritable icon of the Eucharistic presence. Certainly of surpassing importance for the incarnation is the descent of the Holy Spirit. It is the same Spirit who hovered over the waters of the creatio originalis who begins the eschatological New Creation in the incarnation of the Word. As the fulfillment of the covenant promises of God this procession of the Spirit is akin to the epiclesis. But upon whom the Spirit descends is not insignificant. The New Creation is not ex nihilo but is a fulfillment of the covenantal history brought to its fullness in Daughter Zion, the one who by grace and assent became the Mother of God. The presence of Christ is both eschatological New Creation from the Spirit and the fulfillment of the diachronic covenantal history.

We can see this same dynamic of eschatological gift joined with historical continuity in several instances in the Gospels. In Jesus’ baptism the descent of the Spirit comes upon Jesus as he recapitulates the exodus in solidarity with the covenant people. In the resurrection, certainly an eschatological event, much importance is laid on the fact that it is the crucified one who became faithful Israel as covenant partner with God who is raised.

It will be the Docetists and Gnostics who will try to put a categorical wedge between history and eschatology. (Actually, when they are sundered eschatology ceases to be eschatological as it is no longer the end of history. Eschatology is emptied into ahistorical transcendence.) The patristic concept of Apostolic Succession was a response to this gnostification of Christian existence, and as the chronic persistence of covenantal history now recapitulated in Christ. The mechanization of Succession into some channel of sacramental validity is a debasement of the patristic concept.

Kyle is one of the brightest young theologians I have come across in some time. I look forward to his rejoinder in this.

Been under the weather

2007-05-09T13:18:00.000-07:00

Had the worst bout of intestinal flu I can remember a couple of weeks ago, during which time I probably watched more Law and Order than is healthy. Still not 100%. Perhaps I'll post more in the future.

Helpful Explanation

2007-05-09T13:15:00.000-07:00

Tinfoil hat tip to babybluecafe.blogspot.com

Prayer for Virginia Tech

2007-04-16T13:50:00.000-07:00

Most holy and gracious Father, your Son Jesus Christ in his resurrection manifested the justice and mercy of your Kingdom, and brought life and immortality to light; receive our shock, our fears, our grief, and our prayers in light of the massacre at Virginia Tech. Receive the victims who have died into the arms of your mercy, comfort families, friends and colleagues who are gripped by grief, and heal those who have been injured and give strength to the medical professionals who are treating them. Bestow your wisdom upon university and public officials who in the days and months to come deal with this crisis, give insight to the law enforcement agencies involved, and strengthen pastors and counselors responding to the crisis. Help your church to be present throughout this crisis as the community of our Lord, proclaiming the hope, mercy, justice, and eternal life made known in his resurrection from the dead. These prayers we offer in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord, who with you and the Holy Spirit, lives and reigns now and forever. Amen.

Strange Holy Saturday Symbolism?

2007-04-07T14:34:00.000-07:00

Not sure what this means, or how I can fold this into my regular meditations, but my dog ate my Rosary on Holy Saturday.

I really liked that Rosary.

Father, into your hands...

2007-04-02T09:44:00.000-07:00

As we come to Holy Week and Easter we have come to the climax of the Great Story of the holy God rescuing a rebellious world. Thinking about the Story, I see that in one telling it begins with irony. In the Garden our first parents try to seize the very prerogatives and nature of God as their own. What was it that the Serpent told them? “Take and eat. Surely you will not die, but you will become like God.” The irony is found in the fact that what they would take by force or claim by right God had intended to give to them all along. Think of the father in the parable of the Prodigal Son: “all I have is yours.” God had intended to share his glory with us as those created in God’s image. And what we seize rather than freely receive, we pervert.

In a way, the whole sorry history of the world can be seen in terms of laying claim to what should be God’s gift. We long for the power of God’s Kingdom, but we use our power to dominate others. We seek a life of the abundance of God’s blessing, but we are caught in the endless pursuit of wealth, pleasure, and comfort. We yearn for an eternal and unconditional love, but we do not love as we have been loved, expressing love that is all too often intemperate and transitory. All we seek is to be found in God and his gifts, but we would claim these blessings by right, taken by force, on our own terms.

It is this ironic history of seizing the gift that finds its climax in Jesus’ death and resurrection. It is here that the cycle of enmity and avarice is stopped, and a new possibility for history begins. For the one who could claim the glory as his own sets aside his prerogatives, that the gift of God may be that again, sheer gift. As Paul told the Corinthian Christians, “Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant.”

Here on the Cross his self-emptying comes to its fullness. All of this tragic history unfolding since the Garden is placed on his back. Yet he claims no right, no power, in the face of his tormentors. At the edge of the abyss, he trusts only in the God of grace, without any sense of entitlement: “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” Jesus relinquishes all to his father, and in that our enthrallment to the irony of history is broken.

But what has been accomplished for us, Jesus has also done in us. In a rapacious world, driven by the pursuit of happiness, power, and wealth, we can stop and say to our God, “into your hands we commend our spirits.” And in thus dying to our sense of entitlement, we are also raised in him into our original inheritance received once again as gift. We taste the glory of resurrection, coming to the True Vine and receiving the Fruit with open hands and receptive hearts. And doing so we hear the words or grace, “Take and eat; this is my body, this is my blood.”

This week, however, the task is to follow Christ and ask where I need to die to my own sense of entitlement. Where do I have to say, “Into your hands I commend my spirit”? As we do, Christ’s new history begins in us, and through us, into the world.

Incredibly appropriate for a blog called "Selva Oscura" methinks!

2007-04-01T22:37:00.000-07:00

I'm terza rima, and I talk and smile.
Where others lock their rhymes and thoughts away
I let mine out, and chatter all the while.

I'm rarely on my own - a wasted day
Is any day that's spent without a friend,
With nothing much to do or hear or say.

I like to be with people, and depend
On company for being entertained;
Which seems a good solution, in the end.

http://quiz.ravenblack.net/poeticform.pl">What Poetry Form Are You?

The News from Camp Allen

2007-03-21T08:37:00.000-07:00

All cartoons aside, I find myself of (at least) two minds about the latest communication from the House of Bishops, in which they explicitly rejected the idea of a Primatial Vicar for dissenting dioceses and parishes asked by the Dar es Salaam Communique and (I believe) indicated at the very least an implicit rejection of the other requests of the Primate.

On the one hand, as I indicated to my own bishop before he made his way to Camp Allen, that the time for Episcopal cleverness is clearly past, and that we should speak honestly and clearly about what we intend to do. No more cute "well we didn't authorize the rites used for the blessing of that gay union" for instance.

Well, be careful what you wish for. I seem to have gotten it.

And yet, as a catholic-minded Anglican, I receive this news with great pain. To be catholic-minded in at least a synchronic sense is to be committed to live into what might be deemed the two poles of catholic concrescence: the local eucharistic community and the widest global fellowship. Leaving aside for the moment the question of where local concrescence occurs, the diocese or parish, I have held for some time that it is the global communion that represents the highest level of catholic reality for the Anglican. (Even here, this level of ecclesial existence is called to serve the even large catholic canvass, but the ecumenical question will need to be posed another day.)

But to be an Episcopalian this day is to believe ecclesial concrescence subsists in the national church, as I indicated in at least one other post below. It is thus a step away from being catholic.

The lost of a catholic ecclesial identity is disorienting and excruciating.

The Latest from the House of Bishops

2007-03-21T08:35:00.000-07:00

Cartoon by Dave Walker. Find more cartoons you can freely re-use on your blog at We Blog Cartoons.

Reflections on a Memorial Service

2007-03-06T17:34:00.000-08:00

I had the occasion to attend the memorial service for a young man who was tragically killed in a car accident. While it was in a church and presided over by two local pastors, it was in essence a secular service. Oh, there was an opening and closing prayer of indistinct liturgical and theological derivation, as well as a very poor congregational rendition of “On Eagle’s Wings.” But there was no scripture and no homily. All the speaking was from friends and family. While the reasons for this remain obscure to me, one of the pastors intimated that it they were trapped in some family politics and a negative memory in the town of another funeral for a high school student that was considered offensive because of strident fundamentalist sentiments expressed. Better no God than to offend the mourners. I feel sorry for the bind that the pastors were in and give thanks that I can always fall back on the Book of Common Prayer to offer Christian content.

My reason for noting here this service is not to complain about the de-Christianization of the liturgy, but rather to note a strange dynamic that emerged in numerous comments people made that afternoon. What happened several times was that people spoke a message from the deceased from beyond the grave. It was not “If John were here I think he would tell us….” Rather “John speaks to us and wants us to know….” It was more the language of séance than that of memory. And it was peculiar in its specificity. It was also couched in therapeutic language.

On the one hand, it was just downright creepy, and presumptuous. Yet it also suggested to me that at this critical moment in people’s lives we need more than words of love, support, and comfort. We need a message from beyond the horizon of this life to break through the hopelessness, especially when a young person dies. A word from outside needs to break through the pall.

That afternoon we longed for a word from outside, but as God had been banished we heard from John. Or rather, we heard from ourselves, and put it in the deceased’s mouth.

I bring this up because this should embolden us to speak the true word from beyond the horizon of death, that of our Lord. It is absolutely essential that the voice of Jesus is heard: “I am the resurrection and the life;” “I go and prepare a place for you;” “the sheep hear my voice;” “no one comes to the Father but by me.” Here is something solid and abiding: the Word spoken by one who died and lives again. One who has the authority to speak from beyond the horizon. Any words about the deceased only have meaning if spoken from within this gospel context.

I have never had any complaint about preaching on the death and resurrection of Jesus at a funeral, even when the one who died or those who grieve had a less than firm grasp on that truth. To use Kyle’s phrase, people want a God who raises the dead. A Christian funeral is the place where those other gods meet their match. The victory is won, and people are glad to hear it. No, they need to hear it.

But what of the offensive Christian funeral, the type of which so affected the family of the young man we mourned? While I wasn’t at the specific service the pastor referenced to me, I have been to others of that ilk. The problem lies not in the scandalous particularity of the gospel itself, but in making the death of the person a cautionary tale for others. The outline is simple: we have confidence that our loved one is with the Lord. Why? Not generally because God raised Jesus from the dead, but because the dead person accepted Jesus as his personal Lord and savior. And if we want to see him again, we had better do the same before our number is called.

The result of this sort of proclamation is a strange one. First, it has the effect of marginalizing the action of God. The focus is on the decision made by the deceased. Even if the preacher mentions that Christ died for the person’s sins (usually omitting the resurrection, by the way), the emphasis is upon the act of faith itself. To a good extent, the word from beyond the horizon is not offered, or if offered, it is obscured.

Secondly, even the deceased recedes into the background, since his life is rendered insignificant except for that one epiphenomenal moment, that blink of an eye, when he accepted Jesus. The result is rather Gnostic. A whole life is rendered inconsequential. The proclamation of the work of God in the passion and resurrection exalts the life of the one who has died as the story of an object of eternal love redeemed and sanctified in a way that utilizing the language of personal decision cannot.

Let us be bold to proclaim Christ at funerals. Let our “alleluias” for what God has done shake the rafters at the same time our tears flow like a river. Let us hear the word of promise calling out from beyond the horizon we both long to peer over and are terrified to approach.

On Reading Old Journals

2007-03-01T10:32:00.000-08:00

This morning after praying the Office and reading a selection from Merton's No Man is an Island I found myself reading back over a number of my spiritual journal entries from the past two or so years. It was an interesting and instructive experience, both in a negative and positive way.

In the negative sense, one thing that caught me up short was how the besetting sins and weaknesses that I found to be such a vexation several years ago still dog me today. I found myself wondering if I had progressed at all in the process of sanctification. Why the same stuff over and over? I would like to be able to be done with something and move on to other issues with which I wrestle from time to time. Can I be done with fear that I may go on and deal with, say, sloth or avarice? It would seem not from what I read this morning. My own pen judges me.

In response, however, several things occur to me. First, that I am an impatient creature. Sanctification is a process for the long haul. Two, or even ten, years are not adequate to gauge the purificating work of the Holy Spirit. (And as I continue to inch toward the Tiber, I wonder if even the span of a lifetime is a broad enough perspective. Purgatory? God be praised! What grace! But that, obviously, is another post.)

Secondly, my besetting sin is just that, a besetting sin. It is not something I will get over. It will dog me until God's work is finished. It is the thorn in the flesh. It is my addiction. To suggest final triumph prior to Glory is to be beguiled by my own sense of accomplishment and ability. It is to be like the alcoholic who thinks he doesn't need to practice the 12 steps anymore.

But the place of my besetting sin is also the place where the grace of God in Christ Jesus is manifested with the greatest power. It is the place where the earthen vessel is chipped, thus revealing the surpassing weight of Glory.

Now to the positive experience:
I was actually quite taken and moved by the insights and graces God has shared with me in the last few years as they were recorded in the journal. There was some wonderful stuff in there, thoughts and reflections of beauty and grace that had been long forgotten. But the greater grace was reading this thoughts as though I had first taken a deep draught of Lethe. I received them without a sense of ownership or pride. These reflections were not mine, they were a gift from God and, how do I say this?, another me, one who is undoubtably a part of me and has made me who I am (for good and ill!), but also speaks to me from outside. Thus the insights are received as sheer grace, free from any demands that my proprietary ego might make.

Smiley Face Lent

2007-02-25T22:55:00.000-08:00

The Church of England has come up with the most inane Lenten program ever: "Love Life Live Lent." It is beyond parody.

E Pluribus Unum?

2007-01-30T21:48:00.000-08:00

As I have been slowly making my way through the second volume of Ian Kershaw’s biography of Hitler, Hitler 1936-1945: Nemesis, I have been giving thought to not only the singular type of evil embodied by Hitler and his Reich, I have also been fascinated with how National Socialist ideology comes in contact with the political questions that have formed history. In other words, Nazism, while perhaps being a singular evil in history (let’s leave Stalin out of this for the moment), does emerge from some of the most common political questions and aspirations. What struck me is that Hitler represents a response to the fundamental political, and indeed philosophical, question of the correlation between the one and the many.

Although I am not a political philosopher or “scientist”, I would like to suggest that this relationship between the one and the many underlies much of the turmoil endemic in communities and nations. Human societies tend toward instability as they contain the unruly appetites and passions of many individuals, the pursuit of which militates against the common good, and increases conflict and competition between members of the society. Left to their own devices, societies will plunge themselves into anarchy and civil war.

Something, or better someone, must “order the unruly wills and affections of sinful men.” This can be done by the sheer force of the police state. But the maintenance of such a state based primarily in terror is itself unstable, as the possibility of rebellion is never too distant. Far better is the emergence of the Leader (not, of course, without, recourse to coercion) who embodies the common good, as sort of hypostasis of the Nation or the body politic, which unifies the aspirations of the people. For instance we might think of Louis XIV saying “L’Etat, c’est moi” in this regard. Think also of the rise of the Caesars in imperial Rome. Similarly, the Tsar was Russia. Stability is found in the Leader’s embodiment of the nation and the subjects desire to live into a political hypostatic union with this personalized polity. He is the apotheosis of e pluribus unum.

The rise of Nazism from the chaos of Weimar republicanism is a case in point. The chaos and instability of Weimar constitutionalism which also was seen as finding its genesis in the humiliation of 1918 activated a strong cultural memory of the great Germanic Leader represented in both legend and history by the likes of Frederick Barbarossa and Frederick the Great. Indeed, the Führer-prinzip was a German political ideal which the National Socialists were able to exploit and expand. Through his rhetorical gifts demonically employed Hitler fashioned himself as the messianic Leader. As one motto stated, the people are to “work toward the Führer.” Thus he ruled though the love of the people, albeit it not without the machinery of state terror to keep enemies at bay. In fact, even after his death and the destruction of Germany, the some of the men in the dock at Nuremberg, having already admitted their complicity in the inhumanity of the Reich, were moved to tears when film of Hitler was presented to them.

Of course, there are types of instability that can affect the polity embodied in such a Leader. We can see this when the Leader looses contact with the people, such as Louis XVI, who on the day the Bastille fell only thought to record in his journal “nothing,” noting the lack of game caught that day by the King. And certainly the most historically prevalent form of this polity, the monarchy, is subject to the problem of dynasty, when the heirs to the throne are not able to embody the nation’s polity adequately that the unruly wills of the people might be ordered.

Such reflections, provided that they are actually descriptive of the foundational issues of politics, evoke a number of reflections for me as a Christian and an American. And among these issues is the role of democracy in this dynamic between the Leader on the one side and anarchy on the other. Does liberal democracy resolve the problem of the one and the many? And if so, how is this accomplished? In brief, we might suggest that democracy attempts to transcend this dialectic through replacing the leader with an abstract ideal, such as freedom or equality. Parliamentary procedure and laws keep the pursuit of individual interests from verging on the anarchic. In essence, the apotheosis of politics here is a non-personal idealism.

But the more significant question as a Christian must be how the embodiment of the Kingdom of God in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus relates to the issues I have outlined above. And here we should notice that Jesus does not deny the need for the Leader who embodies the political existence of the people. He is not a proto-democrat offering some ideals to be the principle of social coherence. He redeems the age long struggle between the one and the many by becoming the One, the hypostasis of the polity which is the Kingdom of God. The New Testament language of dwelling “in Christ” and the church being the body of which he is head is political language in the sense that I have outlined above.

But what differentiates, then, Jesus from Caesar or even Hitler? It is the way that he lives out his identity as the Leader. We must look to the kenosis of the cross for our political bearings for this new polity of the Kingdom.

I am still working through all this in my mind. I offer it to anyone out there who might be reading this for your thoughts and reflections as I continue to consider the ramifications.

More on Episcopal Ecclesiology

2007-01-02T20:47:00.000-08:00

I have been giving more thought to my suggestion that the Episcopal Church is now espousing, perhaps quite unintentionally, a modernistic ecclesiology where the two concrete forms of ecclesial existence are the national church and the individual. The parish and diocese are within this framework mediating legal fictions functioning as aggregates of individual spiritualities on the one hand, and trustees of the property belonging to the national church. This new ecclesiology I have called “Neo-Erastianism.”

Some of the ideas behind this I have expressed in an earlier post, where I suggest the ecclesiological nationalism is a product of modernism. Among my comments were these:

What strikes me today is that Protestantism emerged along with the development
of the nation/state, and was indeed underwritten by this modern political
project. We often forget just how important the emerging western nations
were to the success of the Reformation…. Historic Protestantism exists as the
spiritual arm of a political trend that is in fact now under the immense stress
of both globalism on the one hand and tribalism on the other. Nationalism posits
a mediating unit, the Nation/State, as the ultimate political unit. Such a
unit has been unstable as it is too large for the tribe and requires bureaucracy
and a police or military force to maintain. With Protestantism no longer
underwritten by the culture, either formally as in a state church, or tacitly,
as in the case of the United States, and with ecclesial bureaucracy not able to
adapt to rapid social and technological change, churches such as the Episcopal
Church are destined to become moribund.

The Neo-Erastian airs from the Presiding Bishop and other bishops were inevitable.

Anglican ecclesiology (at least in its North American manifestations) is actually a matter of preferences and the exercise of power. The individual is free to choose from a variety of ecclesiological options, and then is able to embody these choices to the extent that I have the power to do so. “Preference” refers most specifically to the ecclesial existence of the individual as a religious subject. Higher levels of ecclesial life, such as the parish or the diocese, are simply aggregates of individual preferences. This dynamic has been intensified by the loss of the geographically defined parish church and the rise of sodalities of type or party, such as the Anglo-catholic or charismatic, for example. The parish thus serves the preferences of the individual by gathering individuals of like preference together as a more efficient means of providing resources.

The interaction of these preferences, especially to the extent they come into conflict with one another, is governed by the operation of power. This power resides most concretely in the national church, with subsidiary application of this power through dioceses and congregations.

But note that none of the above is strictly theological in structure. One can hold to the episcopate as the esse of the church, or that the church is an event created by the faithful preaching of the Word and administration of the sacraments. These merely constitute the aforementioned preferences. Ecclesiology as it pertains to the national church is a matter of polity enforced through canon and, as is increasingly the case, civil law.

The New (problematic) Ecclesiology of the Episcopal Church

2006-12-31T13:25:00.000-08:00

I have remained rather quiet of late concerning the conflict in the Episcopal Church. Nevertheless, I will break my silence in light of the turmoil that seems to be building recently with the secession of a number of churches in Virginia and one in California, as well as the canonical moves in the Diocese of San Joaquin. Several of these situations touch me personally as friends and acquaintances are involved.

My purpose here is to remark on one aspect of what appears to be the emerging line from both the Presiding Bishop and diocesan bishops as well. In essence their point is that while individuals are free to leave congregations, congregations cannot. The tenor of these remarks hints at a new ecclesiology emerging in TEC, as the language points to more of a theological affirmation than merely a statement of legal ownership of property. The most recent example is to be found in the letter by Bishop Lamb, soon to be retired Diocesan of Northern California, as quoted by Brad Drell. Bishop Lamb writes concerning a departing parish in his diocese:

Inasmuch as I, too, left a church home in 1971, I know the angst of this moment
for David Miller and others in the congregation. I believe individuals have a
right to make such changes as they feel necessary for their spiritual life. I
don’t believe it is appropriate for anyone to try to take a congregation with
them when they make such a change.

My problems with this line of thinking are several.

First, this has huge historical problems, with the potential of undermining the legitimacy of the Anglican Reformation. While I hope this does not sound flippant, are we saying that while one cannot take a congregation out of the existing ecclesiastical structure, it is alright to take entire realms out? How many times have I while in England or Wales have I worshipped in church buildings that were Catholic parishes? Should they be returned to Rome?

Frankly the congregations in Virginia and California have a better claim on leaving their current structures than did Henry VIII. These congregations made their decisions through popular consent, and what they have chosen was less to secede than to remain tied to a larger communion, thus reflecting a greater catholicity than their existing structures.

This is not to say that I believe that these decisions are not without involving ecclesiastical problems of their own. (For instance, are we free to choose our jurisdiction at will? Would this not be a form of congregationalism belying episcopal polity?) Nevertheless, the sentiments of Presiding Bishop Schori and, in this instance, Bishop Lamb are on shaky historical ground as normative Anglican ecclesiology.

My other difficulties are more significant and theological. It would seem that the understanding of the term “congregation” is coterminous with the parish as a legal entity. This would overthrow the biblical understanding of congregation as ekklesia, a spiritual union of the baptized. It belies our experience of our congregations as actual bodies defined by their worship, fellowship, and mission, rather than by who holds the deed to the building. There is a reductionism in the thought of Bishop Lamb and others employing this sort of argument.

But, it may be argued, the diocese, not the parish, is the basic unit of the church. Certainly that is what we learned in seminary. And I would tend to agree. However, we might also respond that, except for a few rare exceptions, we do not experience our ecclesial existence as diocesan, but rather as congregational. This does indicate that some aspects of catholic ecclesiology does not easily comport with facts on the ground.

When we place Katharine Jefferts Schori’s response to the move toward provincial realignment in the Diocese of San Joaquin into the context of the comments above on individuals and congregations, it would suggest that the basic unit of the church is actually the individual, rather than either the congregation or the diocese, while the most concrete expression of the church catholic is not the global Communion but the national church. Both diocese and parish exist as legal fictions within the concrete ecclesial realities of individual and provincial imperium. And if I am correct in this, TEC represents a fully modernist organization that is ill suited to survive into this new century.

It also means perhaps that we are the heirs of Henry VIII, in as much as we have actually become as sort of neo-Erastian entity, declaring independence from the larger integuments of communio and convening new Star Chambers to discipline recusants.

Ultimately, ecclesiology in the Episcopal Church has entered into a significant moment of crisis. The new ecclesiastical maneuverings required to justify legal actions against congregations and parishes have the unintended consequence of rendering our ecclesiology either incoherent or as the metastasis of a modernist power play. Neither option seems particularly pleasant.

Getting it

2006-12-09T17:27:00.000-08:00

I was having a beer with one of the more colorful members of my congregation whom I’ll call “Bob” and he told me about an encounter with an older member, “Manny” who has been attending our parish for a couple years now. Manny is a rather irascible guy was a lapsed Presbyterian who came back to church reluctantly at the instigation of his wife.

Bob told me that last Sunday Manny came up to him and said “You know, a couple of years ago I asked you why you came to church and you told me it was to get a wafer and a sip of wine. I thought you were an idiot.” (Knowing Manny, he said that with all the disapproval it suggests.) Bob asked him what he thought now. Manny answered “today you and I kneel at the altar rail and together we look up into the face of God.”

Although I am unsure what theological synthesis connected the reception of the Eucharist with the beatific vision (I don’t think the connection came from my homilies), I am caught by what a deeply biblical metaphor this is for the celebration of mass. I am thinking here of Dom Gregory Dix’s reflection that the heavenly worship described beginning in Revelation chapter 4 is a description of Eucharist in the early church with the bishop at the altar representing God upon the throne. That Manny would somehow intuit this connection seems significant.

The context of the conversation was Manny’s desire to go sit with the wife of another member, an Alzheimer’s patient, so his friend could get to church to receive the sacrament with his sisters and brothers in Christ. For Manny, now Eucharist leads to ministry and being the church.

All of this got me thinking about a quote from Thomas Merton’s The Ascent to Truth, which I began reading this week: “We must know the truth, we must love the truth we know, and we must act according to the measure of our love.”

None of this I would have imagined a few years ago. It is nice to know we get it every once and a while.

An Addition to the Rosary

2006-10-17T20:17:00.000-07:00

I got a call from an Anglo-catholic friend of mine who should, in my opinion, be a character in an Evelyn Waugh novel. He has recently taken up the Rosary for his devotions. While sipping a Bombay Sapphire martini he came up with a new addition: the Leisurely Mysteries. He called me today to get my thoughts for good Gospel stories to add to this new devotion. Of course, JP II already got the Wedding at Cana for the Luminous Mysteries. So we need some other nominees. So far we have:

1. The woman anointing our Lord's feet
2. Jesus dining with tax-collectors and harlots

If you have a bit of a warped sense of humor (Kyle, are you there?) what might you suggest? I thought of the Barbecue on the Beach (of course), but does that really belong in some way to the Glorious Mysteries?

I'm Back

2006-10-08T09:53:00.000-07:00

Thanks to everyone who has prayed for us as we all attended to the death and burial of my father in the last few weeks. I hope to post soon, but for now I am tired.

This afternoon I grill tri-tip for 160. Tiring, but after the last few weeks, a needed diversion.

Abortion: Language belies Belief

2006-09-07T11:03:00.000-07:00

I would like to weigh in briefly on the difficult issue of abortion from a different vantage point. What I have noticed is that our language all too often belies our societal “pro-choice” credo. Usually the media is very careful to express itself within the confines of pro-abortion orthodoxy. Thus, the entity carried in the womb is never a baby, but a fetus, lest we assign certain moral status that does not fit with the prevailing social policy. In unguarded moments, however, the media can slip into language that runs contrary to pro-choice sentiments.

The case in point today is the headline I just read “’Desperate’ Actress Becomes a Mother.” My first thought was “Gee, I didn’t know one of the stars of Desperate Housewives was pregnant,” assuming that one had given birth. On closer inspection, however, I discovered that one of the stars, Marcia Cross, who was recently married, has become pregnant.

Hold the phone.

If she is a mother, doesn’t that mean she has a child? To define her as such is to give a certain status to that which she carries. Certainly I recognize that the word can be used in a purely biological sense, such as with the “biological mother” of an adopted child. Yet even here the necessary modifier “biological” suggests that the word is laden with deeper significance. In common usage, “mother” indicates a relationship between a woman and her offspring, which is meant to entail love and nurture.

If a pregnant woman is a mother then that which she carries is her child. The term “fetus” merely indicates the stage of development such as “toddler” or “teenager.” The basic moral relationship is between the mother and child, not woman and fetus. And were she to have an abortion, then she is terminating the life of the child. And here, if she is killing her child we are in a moral world at odds with the prevailing notions of abortion.

Another instance of language belying belief is the anti-cigarette campaign a few years ago, in which pregnant women smoking was portrayed as not only the woman smoking, but the baby as well. (Although I cannot remember the exact language, the term “baby” was explicitly used, not “fetus.”) Further, the whole ad gave the sense that the pregnant woman who smoked was immoral, as it does all sorts of bad things to the baby. (And picture a moment coming upon a pregnant woman lighting up while sipping a margarita and then gauge your emotional response.)

But why is that inappropriate? What moral status does a fetus have that makes the woman’s actions immoral?

This all suggests one of two things to me:

First, the fetus has the status of child, together with the moral considerations implied, only to the extent that we, or perhaps more appropriately the pregnant woman, impute the status of child upon it. And when we give people the power to give or withhold the designation of personhood, we are getting into some pretty murky ethical waters. Either the fetus has a specific moral status or it doesn’t. To say that it does only when the parent or the California Dept. of Health says it does puts us on a slippery slope, the termini of which we have seen reflected in slavery, the Nuremberg laws, and apartheid. Sorry to be so blunt, but there it is.

Or else there is the second option. And that is that our common language of motherhood and children born and unborn reveals that in our heart of hearts we know the fetus is a child. And all the interesting linguistic constructs of the pro-abortion movement are, in the end, contrived obfuscation.

Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament

2006-09-06T12:30:00.000-07:00

I was on the road for a number of hours in a U-haul truck the other day taking #2 kid back for her sophomore year. Unfortunately, the little sound system that we rigged to listen to a book on disc didn’t work, so I was stuck with the truck’s radio. I wound up landing on a Catholic radio station, and decided to listen for a while, hoping for some juicy theological call-in program. As it was, I tuned in in time for their weekly broadcast of the Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament.

This was a disappointment for several reasons. First, it meant I would have to sit through a dreary conservative Catholic homily. I have yet to hear one of these guys on radio who could preach. And this one was no different.

But more significantly, it would seem to me that Benediction is meant to be experienced visually, not aurally. The point is to gaze upon the Host as the Eucharistic presence of Christ Jesus and adore him as our Lord. Frankly, other than the Liturgy of the Hours, Catholic worship seems ill suited for radio.

But on top of it all, I have to confess that I just haven’t understood Benediction. What’s the point? The point of the Eucharist is to receive it, right? That Christ might live in us and we in him. I almost felt like dusting off my 39 Articles: “The Sacraments were not ordained of Christ to be gazed upon, or to be carried about, but that we should duly use them.”

Nevertheless, I listened.

It was hard to follow until the choir began to sing in Latin the chant attributed to Thomas Aquinas, Pange Lingua, here rendered in the translation from the Oremus online hymnal:

Now, my tongue, the mystery telling
of the glorious Body sing,
and the Blood, all price excelling,
which the gentiles' Lord and King,
in a Virgin's womb once dwelling,
shed for this world's ransoming.

Given for us, and condescending,
to be born for us below,
he, with men in converse blending,
dwelt the seed of truth to sow,
till he closed with wondrous ending
his most patient life of woe.

That last night, at supper lying,
'mid the twelve, his chosen band,
Jesus, with the law complying,
keeps the feast its rites demand;
then, more precious food supplying,
gives himself with his own hand.

Word-made-flesh true bread he maketh
by his word his Flesh to be;
wine his Blood; which whoso taketh
must from carnal thoughts be free;
faith alone, though sight forsaketh,
shows true hearts the mystery.

Therefore we, before him bending,
this great Sacrament revere;
types and shadows have their ending,
for the newer rite is here;
faith, our outward sense befriending,
makes our inward vision clear.

Glory let us give, and blessing
to the Father, and the Son,
honor, might and praise addressing,
while eternal ages run;
ever too his love confessing,
who from both with both is one.

At that moment I thought my heart would jump out of my chest. If only for the blink of an eye, I understood the Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. It was adoration, pure and simple, of God as known in Christ Jesus our Lord. Asking for nothing save to be in the Lord’s blessed presence. No reception of his body and blood that the benefits of his death might be received by us.

Benediction is totally useless by most every standard we usually apply to our contemporary ecclesial existence. You don’t “get anything” out of the service of Benediction. You go simply to gaze at the one who is Lover of souls with rapt adoration.

Whether this is all actually true probably should be tested by actually attending such a service. And most likely, I will be disappointed. But in a liturgical milieu where we seem to first ask what we will get out of worship, it is a tonic indeed to think that there is a form of worship completely useless, reminding me it was never about me in the first place.

Is hospital chaplaincy a pagan vocation?

2006-09-02T13:53:00.000-07:00

The other day I was visiting parishioners in the hospital when I had one of those incredible pastoral visits when you know you have done the work of the Lord. I found myself wondering if I might like to become a hospital chaplain at some point. Certainly the ecumenical chaplaincy staff at the Catholic hospital in Texas where my father-in-law passed away last December would be wonderful to join. And I also thought about the possibility that my local secular hospital might fund a chaplaincy position.

But then I thought about a friend who is a Presbyterian pastor in the Midwest, who is also a chaplain at a large secular facility. In such a setting he is often called to sublimate his Christian convictions to serve patients and staff who espouse a non-Christian tradition or none at all. Too often he is required to offer prayers to a generic god, or affirm some amorphous “immortality of the soul” rather than the hope of resurrection when speaking with a terminal patient of indeterminate religious affiliation.

Of late he has put me on his email list for his weekly spiritual messages sent to hospital staff. They tend toward the abstraction of generalized spiritual principles rather than being grounded in the admittedly scandalous particularity of Christ crucified. Thus the Gospel becomes a subset of some overarching category of “religion” of which there are a plethora of authentic religious and spiritual expressions.

Now note that this is not to dismiss the possibility that the imam visiting the Muslim patient may well impart a real spiritual benefit, but as a Christian I would see such a benefit in terms of the Orthodox maxim: “We know where the Spirit is. We do not know where the Spirit is not.” Any spiritual benefit is ultimately a presence of the benefit of the death and resurrection of Christ, although not known by that name. (See the story of Emeth in Lewis’ fantasy The Last Battle for what I am thinking in this regard.)

But in any event, it is not my call to serve an anonymous Christianity, if such exists, but to know nothing but Christ Jesus and him crucified. From this perspective, hospital chaplaincy in a secular institution would force me to live as a pagan, espousing my own deity, Jesus, as my own private household god, but serving the amorphous god of “religion” or “spirituality” in my public vocation.

Too many martyrs of the early church died because they would not serve such a god, nor would they relegate the Lord of heaven and earth to the status of an idol on the hearth.

Elijah and the Da Vinci Code

2006-08-31T22:20:00.000-07:00

Warning: Spoilers Ahead

Well, I finished the damn thing.

What exactly was this huge secret the Priory of Sion was hiding, anyway? Certainly not the secret that Jesus was some proto-feminist cavorting with Mary Magdalene who taught the world... what is it that Dan Brown actually thought the teaching of Christ was about, anyway???

In any event, that's not the secret. Teabing already knew that. And certainly just finding the bones of Mary Magdalene would prove nothing. All they would show through carbon dating is that a bunch folks through the ages who are into ritual sex have been schlepping around the remains of a first century woman.

And then the French lady at Rosslyn Chapel tells that the actual Grail (Mary's bones) was never meant to be revealed and the concept is more significant than the reality. Brown demythologizes his own myth. (And on top of it, if the final aspiration of this new religion is to kneel at the bones of Magdalene, and then to not reveal them would be like me inviting a bunch of people to eucharist and then telling them I hid the elements somewhere in Europe. Good luck.)

But that is not the point of this post.

I really got pissed at a minor little thing in a late chapter when Langdon explains the meaning of the Star of David to Sophie. What he says is that it is the sexual union of the archetypical male (blade) and the female (chalice) celebrated by the Jews as the conjugal relation between two deities: the one the ancients pronounced "Adonai" (I have too much respect for the Name to write it in this context) and Shekinah.

This causal overthrow of Hebraic monotheism and the imputing of paganism into the faith of Israel angered me more than anything else. This is full-on clothes rending stuff. Where is the outrage? (What if Brown portrayed Krishna eating a hamburger? Would folks react nonchalantly about that?)

All I kept imagining was Elijah reading DVC and inviting Dan Brown up the mountain for a chat. It was a satisfying thought.

Perhaps that is not particularly nice of me, but it was an enjoyable little rant.

Grief

2006-08-31T22:10:00.000-07:00

Note: I found this in my Selva Oscura file. It was meant to be posted in mid-October. The contents explain my absence from the blog from that point to May 2006. I'm not sure why I didn't post it then, and not exactly sure why I am posting it now.

My father-in-law did go from strength to strength in the life of perfect service on December 1st. The process of his death was a profound and holy one for us all.

-Peregrinator+

The last two weeks have been difficult at the Peregrinator household as we received word that my father-in-law has been diagnosed with a rather aggressive cancer. While I have walked countless people through such family situations, this is the first time it has hit so close to home. Not only am I close to the pain my wife and children are experiencing, I have come to understand that I am very close to the old guy myself.

For two days after receiving the news I experienced what I now realize was a deep, deep sense of grief. I seemed to float through life, easily distracted, with a gnawing sense that life had been irrevocably changed. Underlying everything was an inescapable sense of sadness. Oh, I could be diverted and even joyous for the moment, but the baseline of existence was the sadness. On top of it all, I was tired. I felt a weariness in my bones.

I mention this for a few reasons. I would welcome your prayers for us, and especially for Gene, my father-in-law. But also the experience put into context my perception of my ministry and the fate of Anglicanism, this selva oscura in which I find myself. I am in grief.

I grieve the fracturing of Anglicanism. As events have unfolded in the months that have followed General Convention 2003, we have witnessed the steady dissolution of Anglicanism into several factions, none of which am I particularly comfortable with. I grieve the end of an Anglicanism which may actually have never existed.

Discussion on the Daily Office

2006-08-30T12:40:00.001-07:00

Captain Sacrament has begun an interesting discussion on the Daily Office. Check it out.

Books in my Backseat: Hitler 1889-1936: Hubris

2006-08-29T09:32:00.000-07:00

As those who know me are aware, the back seat of my car always has a number of books in it which are in various stages of being read by me. Family members are tempted to call my Corolla “The Book Mobile.”

Among the various theological and spiritual tomes floating around the backseat is usually a volume of history. Recently I have been slowly wending my way through volume one of Ian Kershaw’s magisterial biography of Adolf Hitler. I am currently about half way through the massive volume, the chapter narrating the events of 1930, the Nazis’ breakthrough year.

I must report that it is an engrossing read. I feel myself being drawn more and more into this nightmare slowly unfolding as the Weimar Republic commits suicide. Kershaw presents each step in the development of the Dictator, skewering facile explanations for Hitler, while following clues for his character evolution to reasonable and illuminating conjectures.

A few things that strike me today as I consider the book:

The Hitler that emerges from these pages is an enigma in many ways. He was first and foremost a public speaker and propagandist of the first order. That, combined with his emerging consciousness that he was the destined Führer after the failed Putsch, made for a dangerous and volatile mixture. From a psychological perspective, although the psycho-biographical card can be overplayed, Hitler was damaged goods, with an inability to make significant interpersonal attachments, sexual or otherwise, and bravado coupled with an inability to make decisions at crucial moments. (On the sexual aspect of his persona, Hitler sometimes referred to the masses to which he spoke and whipped into a frenzy as “feminine.” It would seem that his approach to the German people was orgiastic and sexual, replacing normal relationships.)

What this confronted in me was my image of a buffoon is inaccurate. It is influenced more by Charlie Chaplain and Mel Brooks than the historical record. There were things that were definitely off kilter with the man, but he had some particular gifts and knew how to use them.

One point of interest for me as a Christian is that in the early 1030s as the Nazi movement begins to attract a broader base of support, it came from the Protestant elements of society far more than the Catholic (even though the movement began a decade earlier in largely Catholic Bavaria.) Certainly one of the reasons is that the Catholics had their own center-right party, Zentrum. But might it also have to do with what I suggested a few weeks ago about the tie between Protestantism and the Nation/State? And at this juncture in Nazi history the appeal from Hitler was less to anti-Semitism (which was played down to attract the bourgeoisie) and more toward rising above the factionalism of parliamentary democracy by reasserting German greatness coupled with strong anti-Bolshevik rhetoric. The main villains were those who capitulated to the Western powers at Versailles and overthrew the Germany tradition of strong central government represented by the Kaiser.

Were Catholics somehow more immune to this appeal to power and nationalism? It is an interesting question for which I have no solid answer. (And does Mussolini’s Italy offer a counter-argument?)

Can it happen here? That is always the haunting question that accompanies reading histories of the Third Reich. (Why such questions don’t haunt us when we read of the Bolshevik terror is another question.) In fact, some well known writer (whose name escapes me) recently wrote a volume of alternate history in which Charles Lindbergh becomes the leader of a Fascist USA. And certainly some quarters have leveled the argumentum ad Hitlerem toward aspects of our domestic intelligence gathering of late.

But reading Kershaw’s book on the rise of Hitler convinces me that there are not enough significant parallels to warrant such fears. American constitutionalism is vastly more stable than the strange intricacies and asymmetries of Weimar parliamentarianism.

Furthermore, we do not have a vital tradition in our recent memory of the great Leader, who will lead the nation. Democracy was new in the 1920s in Germany. Many, not only Nazis, longed for the return of a Frederick the Great or a Bismark to unify what historically had been a fractious grouping of Germanic principalities. Hitler fused the German desire for an authoritarian leader with his ideology, thus creating the Führer cult. Such a cult was contiguous with their history and political longings. If anything, we have deconstructed our concept of the political leader since at least the Watergate era. No one is longing for a new Lincoln or Washington recidivus.

And, frankly, I don’t care what I read in the letters section of my local rag, Bush is not Hitler. Not even close.

If I had a rating system, I’d give this book five out of five whatevers.

Last time for Ephesians 5:21ff.

2006-08-26T20:21:00.000-07:00

It just struck me that this is the last time I will have the opportunity to preach on Ephesians 5:21 ff. on mutual submission in Christian marriage. Next time this section of the Lectionary passes by we will be using the Revised Common Lectionary instead of the Prayer Book Lectionary. The RCL, I'm afraid, sanitizes the lectionary by omitting this passage.

Yes, yes, it is a difficult passage to preach. But that is what makes it so important. We all hear it read from a rather sexist perspective, just to find it on deeper inspection talking about a mutual kenotic marital concept that seems to reflect the Carmen Christi of Philippians 2. All is dependent upon the verse "Be subject to one another out of reverence for Christ." (And even futher dependent upon verse 18: "Do become drunk, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit.")

I fear that the spirit we are filled with if we intentionally omit this passage is the spirit of an age that will pass away.

I find this a reason to mourn tomorrow.

I just don't get it

2006-08-25T08:26:00.000-07:00

I have avoided reading the Da Vinci Code for some time now, but have now plunged ahead as the Adult Ed Committee asked me to start out the Fall Sunday Forums with four sessions on the allegations of the book. While I knew that I would most likely be non-plussed by the anti-Catholic posture, I was told repeatedly to be prepared for a ripping yarn.

But having now slogged through most of it, I find it not some great page-turner, but a puerile comic book, all too impressed with its self-importance. Frankly, for an author who intends to debunk the canonical portrait of Jesus, Dan Brown gives me no indication that he has even read the four Gospels. His references to the orthodox Christ (and, indeed, all early church history) was gleaned from watching a half hour show on Jesus on the History Channel.

And what's this tripe about the gnostic gospels teaching about a purely human (and apparently lusty) Jesus? The point of gnosticism in its docetic Christian form is that he wasn't human.

And call me old fashioned, but the thought of worshipping at the bones of Mary Magdalene as the goddess sounds not merely like a simple revision of Christianity but rather idolatrous. Shouldn't Christians have a sense of revulsion, rather than curiosity?

I have been told not to blow away my audience by quickly dismissing the book. It's going to be a struggle. So far I have been debating titleing the first talk either "This is blasphemy" or "What Bullshit." I think the latter may be a little more eye catching in the parish newletter.

I have heard other pastors and other Christian leaders say that no matter what the merits of his thesis, Dan Brown raises important issues that need to be discussed. Well, no he doesn't.

Can anyone help me here?

Hey, kids! Try these at home!

2006-08-17T11:12:00.000-07:00

Someone passed on to me some volumes of home liturgies to perhaps incorporate into our repository of forgotten and unread books called the parish library.

One is a 1989 new-agey volume by a Catholic priest, who (if still alive) must really be chapped at the ascension of B XVI, entitled Prayers for a Planetary Pilgrim. I just had to share two of the home rituals for "Cosmic Amphibians": "A Urine Ritual" and "A Ritual for Fingernail Trimming."

O God of all life, as my body now flushes out its physical impurities,
grant that all negative, harmful, and angry feelings may be flushed out as
well.

O Divine Friend, as I trim my fingernails, may I also transform my inner
aggresions into love. May I, by your grace, seek to be a peacemaker in all
my dealings and in who I am.

Well, I am approaching the age where a urination litany might be helpful.

But this does have my mind reeling at the other opportunities for home rituals our author may have missed. Here are a few of mine:

For a perfect medium-rare tri-tip on the grill
When the puppy takes a dump on the carpet
Litany for delieverance from a snoring spouse
Penitential rite for forgetting to take out the trash when left-over shellfish has been put in it

I'm thinking of reviewing the excommunication scene from Becket to get ideas for a solemn ceremony for the grounding of a teen-ager.

Are there others we have missed?

Reading the Bible Christologically

2006-08-13T09:19:00.000-07:00

For those who follow the Daily Office lectionary of the Episcopal Church, you know we are now reading from Judges as the selection from the Old Testament. Much of the time we find ourselves rather taken aback with the bloodlust that seems to be endemic to such texts. One of the hermeneutical tacks that is taken to retrieve these stories as scripture is to receive them as metaphors for the life of faith. Thus Jael is less an instruction to drive tent stakes through the oppressor's head, and more a metaphor for bold women fighting injustice.

A good case in point is the story of Gideon when the LORD commands him into battle with only three hundred men against a much larger foe. The lesson, of course, quite explicitly stated is that the people know that it is the LORD who gives the victory and not their own power.

Certainly as a metaphor for Christian existence today this is a powerful image. We see the ebbing tide of faith in the West and we are encouraged that the faithful remnant can through God’s grace prevail in a secularist culture. Yes, my congregation is relatively small, I might say, but I should not see us as a small and powerless band in a rear-guard action in society, but as Gideon’s band of 300 (Peregrinator’s band of 185 ASA?).

But there is a problem here with this metaphorical application of scripture.

As I read the passage about Gideon and the 300 the other day what passed through my mind was not the story as a metaphor for the plucky 185 at St. Swithin’s. Instead I was wondering how Louie Crew and Bob Duncan were reading the text. Each could read it as a metaphor for their respective movements: and lesbian and gay advocacy group Integrity, or a group formed to combat Integrity’s agenda, the Network. Each has begun as a small group against a larger foe. Integrity has prevailed thus far in the Episcopal Church. The Network may prevail in time, if not in the Episcopal Church, then in the Anglican Communion. Both might claim, with Gideon, that this is a sign that the victory belongs to God, and not themselves, even though they pursue contradictory ends.

(Please note that I have no idea if either of them has read the story in this way. Probably not. The only thing of which I am relatively certain in this regard is that they have probably both been more faithful in saying the Office than I.)

My point is that such a common metaphorical application of scriptural texts is fraught with problems, not least of which is a sort of self-aggrandizement in which the subject of the Bible becomes me. Scripture becomes the breeding ground of hubris. And conversely, the other becomes the enemy in the text, whether Integrity or the Network. (And note here, I am not intending to rehash the continuing problems in the Episcopal Church, because if I do Kyle has promised to poke me with a stick.)

None of this is to say that the scriptures, here specifically texts from the Old Testament, do not have an application to our lives. It will not do to say that the story of Gideon is merely an ancient story of the conquest of Canaan. Such stories do function as metaphors, but not as unmediated metaphors. To appropriate the text as metaphor Christ must mediate the story to us. It functions metaphorically to us because it first pertains to first to Jesus.

Now, by this I do not want to suggest a crude eisegetical apologetics that I commonly read in high school, wherein the Old Testament served simply as direct prophecy of Jesus. Here I am thinking more of a patristic turn toward Irenaeus and his doctrine of recapitulation. In Christ the history of Israel is brought to a climax. He is faithful Israel, embodying the Covenant anew in his life, death, and resurrection. Thus, Jesus is the new Gideon, going into battle with sin and death on the cross armed only with his trust in God. (And the 300 are reduced to a true “army of one.”)

Now we can begin to appropriate Gideon as a metaphor for our lives. But we do so at the foot of the cross. And our approach is as the disciples, waffling between faith and faithlessness, at once a loyal follower, then betraying, denying, and fleeing. We read texts in relation and encounter with the crucified and risen Jesus.

And thus, with Bonhoeffer, we are forced to read biblical texts as against us before they are for us. The crucified one is Gideon. We may be the 300. But only first after we realize that we are the enemy, or the men of Israel who were not among the 300 (and indeed were later the grumblers). Through such a Christological hermeneutic our hubris is confronted and we cease being the primary referent of biblical metaphors.

Further, Christ redefines the metaphor of Gideon as an image not of antipathy and bloodshed, but cross-bearing and kenotic servanthood. We may see ourselves reflected in the image of Gideon, but only after we have been crucified with Christ and bear his marks in the world.

Of course, if we read the text in this way, it does not mean that Integrity and the Network will suddenly come to an agreement on the issues that vex the Episcopal Church and also much of Euro-American Christianity. But such a reading will help us to approach texts humbly, and, in doing so, find the transforming power of God within them.

The Restoration of Cain

2006-07-15T19:18:00.000-07:00

One of the regular features of the celebration of the Eucharist in the Episcopal Church is the use of oblation bearers from the congregation to present the bread and wine from the people for use in the consecration. In my congregation we often chose someone who is celebrating a special event, such as having just been baptized or married, for the task. On an average Sunday two people are chosen at random. In all cases the task is approached with reverence and joy.

And yet, as we consider closely what is actually being offered, the elements offered, bread and wine, should give us pause. We have seen such offerings before in the story of God’s people.

Oh yes, they represent the agricultural gifts of creation, grain and grape, grown, harvested, and used in an action of a sort of secondary creation then offered back to God. Yes, as such they bear a certain dignity as a sacrifice unto the Lord. “All things come of thee, O Lord. And of thine own have we given thee.”

But wait. When did we first see such offerings presented to the Lord? Was it not by Cain? Did not God refuse such an offering, favoring the gift of a life, an animal sacrifice, from Cain’s brother Abel? Was not this first offering of the fruit of the earth not an occasion for joy, but the cause of violence? Indeed, the murder of Abel is the genesis of all violence from a biblical vantage point. From this perspective, the ministry of the oblation bearer is an ironic one. Cain boldly approaches the altar once more.

But the offering of Cain’s gifts is not ironic in the course of the Mass. It is a redemptive offering, one that restores Cain to favor with God and gives an incomparable worth to the gift. It is redemptive in that Abel is present as well in the giving. He who is the second Adam is also the new Abel, offering the living sacrifice to God upon the cross. And also present as Cain’s victim. And this sacrifice to God and victimization of the innocent are recapitulated in the Eucharistic celebration. In Christ, Abel receives his brother’s paltry offering and vests it with the dignity of his own: “This is my body broken,” “This is my blood poured out.” In this action Cain is restored and mercy overcomes the primordial violence.

In a world riven with strife, perhaps we would do well to remember the restoration of Cain that inhabits the center of our Eucharistic life. Can this inform our peacemaking ministries as first and foremost the merciful practice of restoration?

I have yet to work out the implications of this, but I thought it worth sharing.

Off to the Sierras

2006-07-12T16:02:00.000-07:00

I will be off to the Sierra Nevadas beginning tomorrow, so don't expect much from me for a couple weeks. (Not that anyone has been expecting anything from me in anything approaching a timely manner.)

I will be hiking, canoeing, and grilling accompanied by fine wine and good beer. Perhaps I will give a few updates as the time goes by.

Protestantism and the End of Modernity

2006-07-12T15:59:00.000-07:00

Several years ago I picked up Jacques Barzun’s intellectual history of the modern West, From Dawn to Decadence. Interestingly, he begins his discussion of Modernity not with the Enlightenment, but with the Protestant Reformation (or, as he prefers it, Revolution). What this suggested to me is that part of the decline of the Protestant “Mainline” is that the historic Reformation Churches (as well as their immediate children such as Methodism) are products of modernity, and as such are suffering with the exhaustion of the modern project. The aforementioned Third Great Schism is in this light not only about the struggle between orthodoxy and heterodoxy but also about the end of modernity and the emergence of another paradigm (which I am not prepared to call post-modern, since I am not convinced that the whole po-mo thing is not either a transitional perspective or modernity in its final stage of entropy).

The churches that can adapt to what is emerging are those which we see thriving in Africa, Asia, and Latin America. They are less enthralled by the modern project, and thus are more resilient.

This, of course, raises the question of just what are these aspects of modernity that make life so perilous for historic Protestantism? Let me venture a thought or two for now.

What strikes me today is that Protestantism emerged along with the development of the nation/state, and was indeed underwritten by this modern political project. We often forget just how important the emerging western nations were to the success of the Reformation. Obviously my own Anglican tradition provides the chief example. But we forget that the term “Protestant” was first a political one, wherein the German Princes siding with the Lutheran movement were called the “Protestant Princes.”

Historic Protestantism exists as the spiritual arm of a political trend that is in fact now under the immense stress of both globalism on the one hand and tribalism on the other. Nationalism posits a mediating unit, the Nation/State, as the ultimate political unit. Such a unit has been unstable as it is too large for the tribe and requires bureaucracy and a police or military force to maintain. With Protestantism no longer underwritten by the culture, either formally as in a state church, or tacitly, as in the case of the United States, and with ecclesial bureaucracy not able to adapt to rapid social and technological change, churches such as the Episcopal Church are destined to become moribund.

Enough for now. As I seem to actually have someone out there reading, I will leave it to you to consider this for the time being.

Rod Dreher on the CoE

2006-07-11T13:57:00.000-07:00

This is from columnist Rod Dreher on the reports that the Church of England wants to ditch St. George as Patron.

Lord have mercy. These people. Ashamed of St. George! (Who may not have
actually existed, but that's not the point). Look, why don't these
sherry-sniffing buttercups just surrender now and spare their enemies the
indignity and tedium of having to beat up a bunch of sniveling jellyfish? I
swear, you could arm the choirs of the ten Bible churches closest to where I sit
deep in the heart of Texas with pool noodles and bullhorns, and they could run
half the marmalade-spined clerics of the Church of England over the White Cliffs
of Dover like a herd of shrieking Gadarene schoolgirls.

Poor Church of England. Whoever thought it would end like this?

"Plus" vs. "Plus Plus"

2006-06-26T15:59:00.000-07:00

Pet peeve time: can we get rid of the two "pluses" for the primates (++Rowan Williams) and just stick with with the one "+" that we use for bishops. In the end of the day, there are really only three orders, not a fourth one called "Primates." And beyond that it just looks silly.

I mean, you don't see +++BXVI, do you?

I thought not.

Peregrinator+

Metaphor Alert!

2006-06-26T15:57:00.000-07:00

Well, this certainly will be more fun than all those obscure references to Orthodox monks made out of context, feints toward Rumi, and all manner of obfuscation we have come to love from +Frank. It looks like we are in for a veritable MEGA-METAPHOR SMACK-DOWN during the primacy of +KJS!

Already we have had loads of fun with a minor medieval metaphor ripped from its context to shock the hoi polloi: “Jesus, our Mother.” And then it appears that T(p)ECusa is conjoined twins! With a little imagination we can now have loads of fun mixing and matching primatial metaphors at clergy gatherings and vestry retreats!

To start out, let me offer “Jesus our Mother has given birth to conjoined twins.”

Sorry, couldn’t help myself.

The Third Great Schism

2006-05-27T19:29:00.000-07:00

“I wish it need not have happened in my time”, said Frodo.

“So do I,” said Gandalf. “And so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for us to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

Methodist theologian William Abraham in his very helpful little book The Logic of Renewal suggests that what the church is undergoing now throughout the world is the third Great Schism of Christianity after the split between East and West and the sixteenth century Reformation. This schism, however, is between the liberal cultural elite of Western historic Protestantism together with their fellow travelers in Catholicism and a growing World Christianity (in Lamin Sanneh’s terminology) that is robust and decidedly more orthodox than the prevailing Church culture of the West. If this is the case (and I do believe it is) the changes that we are experiencing in the Episcopal Church are part of a much larger drama that is unfolding. The shift is tectonic in scope.

The reason for this huge shift and dislocation is manifold. We can look at issues such as the exhaustion of modernity beginning after the defeat of Nazism and continuing with the collapse of Communism. Or another perspective is the maturing of Pentecostalism, now a century after the Azusa Street Revival. From this ecclesial perspective we also need to take into account the legacy of Vatican II completing the Catholic Reformation begun at Trent as it has been consolidated by John Paul II (“Santo Subito!”) and now Benedict XVI. And, of course, the rise of Islam, especially of a Wahabist strand, should also be considered (especially as the liberal elite of historical Protestantism have no credible critique of Islam in any form).

In any event, this is not a fun time in which to live if you have a vested interest in an historic Protestant denomination in the United States. I find myself voicing Frodo’s lament quite often.

I propose in the next few weeks (with no promise of timely posting) to consider the implications of living in the time of this Third Schism.

I invite comments and reflections.

Where's he been?

2006-05-22T15:46:00.000-07:00

I have been absent in my alter-ego Peregrinator from the blogoshere for some time now. The primary reason was a death in the family late last year. Several have encouraged me to take it up again. Perhaps I will.

But the request for me to blog first elicited in me a real sense of boredom with the "presenting issue" with which I began Selva Oscura, viz. the crisis in Anglo-American Anglicanism. There are plenty of good blogs and sources if you want the bloody details: T19, Drell's Descants, and Anthills, to name a few. I might even comment on them from time to time.

But here on Selva Oscura I plan to say little, if anything, about this for the time being. I may use this space for my ruminations theological and otherwise, but I just don't have the energy to keep posting about a conflict that seems intractable with sides that cannot hear each other.

However, maybe it is time to start this little blog up again.

We'll see.

God in "War of the Worlds": 1953 & 2005

2005-11-23T10:47:00.000-08:00

Permit me a detour into pop culture…

I saw last night for the first time at a parishioner’s incredible home theater. Edge of your seat action. Great visuals. Really enjoyed it.

My foray into movie reviewing here is to point out how the church functions in this version of the story as compared to the great 1953 George Pal version of the same story. (There are obvious nods to the original film in Spielberg’s version – the alien telescope and the dead alien at the end – but in reality it is a different movie. The voice over narration at the end and beginning of each was almost identical, but the similarities in plot end there, it would seem.)

In the George Pal version, the church and its ministry is featured quite prominently. One of the significant characters, you will remember, is Sylvia’s rabat wearing minister uncle, bravely facing the Martians armed only with a Bible (actually looked more like a BCP, in my opinion) and the 23rd Psalm.

Later in the film, the scientist hero of the piece and the presumptive romantic interest, Sylvia, take refuge in a church. (We actually see inside several churches. Each is treated with respect in the film, with heroic moments of clergy praying in the midst of crisis. That people would seek refuge in the church is natural and understandable. Indeed each is packed.) The critical moment comes when the church in which our scientist protagonist and Sylvia are taking refuge is attacked by the Martians. It is precisely at that moment that the invaders begin succumbing to terrestrial viruses and bacteria.

In essence, attack the church and God is going to get you.

In the final scene, as God is given credit for defeating the Martians, the strains of “O God, our help in ages past” is offered as a paean of praise to the Lord who saved them. And the entire context suggests that it is no generic god that saves the world, but the Christian one.

Now fast forward to 2005.

There is only one scene in which a church is featured. Early in the movie, as the aliens (not sure now where they are from) emerge from under the ground in their long hidden tripods (al Qaida sleeper cells??) we see a church as the backdrop of this first attack. It is empty and is soon ripped apart by the fissures created in the pavement by the ascent of the alien craft. The steeple falls, and soon ungodly destruction is unleashed.

In the ensuing action, no prayers are uttered. And the mention of god only returns with the voice over at the end. But now the context has emptied of the specificity of the 1953 film. A generic and rather deistic god provides the micro-organisms that wind up defeating the invaders. We win by “earning” the right to survive by billions of deaths over our sorrowful history through the evolution of immunities. A sort of evolutionary pelagianism.

I don’t imagine that Spielberg or the screenwriters had any intention of making a science fiction meditation on “Dover Beach” and the receding tide of faith. But they have.

Now, if we take science fiction movies as reflections of the socio-political hopes and fears of the age (as I generally do), then what lessons can we draw from these two films?

In the 1953 version God and the church are the true refuge and salvation in a world threatened by another Red Empire. Both military strength and scientific excellence are insufficient to face the threat. The Christian faith is central in facing the crisis of the age.

Now in 2005 it would seem that religion or “spirituality” is something that pertains to the placid season before the crisis. When the crisis of the age ensues, our religion is the first luxury that is discarded. And while the military is insufficient to the threat (science is absent in this film), we face the crisis through an almost animal will to survive. Persistence in the face of insuperable obstacles is what saves the day. And this will to survive may call us to descend below human decency. While in 1953 there was only one mob scene where human decency is discarded, 2005 is in many ways one long mob scene. We beat the bastards by outlasting them, no matter what it takes.

What are the implications? I’d be interested in hearing people’s thoughts.

"What's your theological worldview?"

2005-11-22T09:50:00.000-08:00

Should have seen this coming -Peregrinator

You scored as Roman Catholic.
You are Roman Catholic. Church tradition and ecclesial authority are hugely important, and the most important part of worship for you is mass. As the Mother of God, Mary is important in your theology, and as the communion of saints includes the living and the dead, you can also ask the saints to intercede for you.

Roman Catholic
89%
Neo orthodox
82%
Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan
79%
Emergent/Postmodern
46%
Charismatic/Pentecostal
36%
Reformed Evangelical
36%
Classical Liberal
21%
Fundamentalist
21%
Modern Liberal
11%

Perhaps it is that elusive 11% that keeps me on this side of the Tiber.

Drawing the Line

2005-11-02T14:49:00.000-08:00

My good friend Moderate responded very thoughtfully to my comments to him in which foxhole to die in with the question on where to draw the line in the current debate. Several very significant points are made and I wish to take them one by one.

He writes in his first paragraph:

Of course my quote intended to question whether or not it is possible to draw
the line after homosexuality somewhere. As I said I know at least two folks who
are orthodox in every respect but happen to be gay. Both are desperately seeking
a way to reconcile their beliefs (even beliefs on the sanctity of traditional
marriage and its relation to the Christ's love for the Church) with their sexual
orientation. I would love to find such a reconciliation, but cannot, leaving my
friends and me in a difficult spot.

I understand (I think) what you are attempting to suggest. In essence, you wish to say that we will grant you some latitude in sexuality, but we will hold firm with Christology, soteriology, and other aspects of creedal orthodoxy. Indeed, it is a tempting option. (And, like you, I have friends that fit into that category.) But this raises several issues itself.

First, orthodoxy entails an entire hermeneutic and theological vision, not just discrete doctrines bundled together. My concern has been that in order to get me to a place where the revisionists want me I have to employ a theological method that is actually corrosive of the very orthodoxy I seek to affirm. That was the point of my post “are we wrong?” This is not to say that there are some very wonderful Christians who hold to this position, but I still maintain that the unintended consequences for the church will be devastating.

Second, let us grant for the sake of argument that we will draw the line “after homosexuality.” Now we have to raise the slippery slope question. Where do we draw the line? I remember that Fleming Rutledge gave what she intended as an orthodox and irenic address after General Convention ’03 trying to moderate in just the ways that you would. Her suggestion was (as I remember it, and I do apologize if I misrepresent her) that we would continue to hold up heterosexual marriage as normative for Christian sexual existence, but for pastoral reasons tolerate (my word here, I don’t remember hers) gay and lesbian relationships within the church without making them equal with marriage. Blessings of gay couples would be understated affairs, perhaps in the pastor’s office, with no language suggesting that they are married. But neither would there be discrimination against gay and lesbian people in parish life.

It is a noble attempt to draw a line, but one that cannot satisfy those with same-sex attraction. A sort of Plessy vs. Ferguson approach.

On the other hand, we have folks like the MCC (and compatriots in ECUSA) who suggest that there is more than one way to understand “faithful, lifelong relationship.” That is, that genital exclusivity is not intrinsic to monogamy, but refers to emotional honesty and intergrity. As evidence let me present this comment from a review of a book on same sex unions by Presbyterian ethicist Marvin Ellison:

He thinks “a lively debate is needed,” for instance, on whether marriage
should
now be redefined to recognize “polyamorous” people, those involved
with
“multiple partners.”

He wonders, “How exactly does the
number of
partners affect the moral quality of a relationship? … Could it be
that limiting
intimate partnerships to only two people at a time is no
guarantee of avoiding
exploitation?”

Besides pondering marriage
for bisexuals, he protests that the narrowly “bipolar” definition of marriage
excludes “intersexuality, transgenderism, transsexuality and other sexualities.”

"The Insurrection of the Chieftains"

2005-10-07T09:28:00.000-07:00

Just appalling. To think that the essay linked above was printed in the clergy newletter of the Diocese of Los Angeles is a grievous violation of any semblance of communion we might have left between the various factions in ECUSA.

Bluegrass Theology

2005-10-05T20:30:00.000-07:00

I have heard the band that will play at the Wedding Feast of the Lamb. I was surprised. It will be Bluegrass.

Some friends took me last night to a local watering hole to hear renowned Bluegrass musicians Ricky Skaggs & Kentucky Thunder. It was my first such concert (Nickel Creek really doesn’t count) and I was amazed and overjoyed.

What struck me was how natural and unfeigned Skaggs’ talk of his Christian faith was. He spoke of his mother and her deep faith as a “foot washing Free Will Baptist,” and of how God graced him with loving visits from his father in his dreams (the communion of saints). He spoke of the charismata which the Lord bestows upon his people (without using the technical theological language, of course). He also told the tale of how the tune for a particular instrumental song came to him as he read I Corinthians 1:18, a beautiful tune that he credits to the Author of all creativity.

The lyrics of the songs often reflected his Christian faith without falling into ham-fisted preaching. They speak of simple faith, simple duty, and abiding grace. What came to mind as I listened was the admonition of Jean-Pierre de Caussade: “do your Christian duty, and abandon yourself to divine providence.”

The crowd was rather mixed, and I know that many would be nonplused by an out and out Christian witness, but no one seemed put out. The crowd continued to cheer with enthusiasm through the evening.

I credit it to the unforced authenticity of the presence of faith in the evening’s performance. It was evangelism through authentic (and unashamed) Christian existence.

I think we have much to learn from such Bluegrass theology.

A father's confession

2005-10-02T22:07:00.000-07:00

Last month the wife and I took #2 daughter to Cal State Someplace to begin her freshman year in college. To my delight I have discovered that she has begun attending bible studies and worship time with Campus Crusade for Christ and Inter Varsity. She also went at least one Sunday to a local church of some evangelical flavor.

To compound my joy (and here is where the confession comes in) she has completely avoided the local Episcopal college group affiliated with an a mainline campus organization which includes the UMC and the UCC, and meets at the local ECUSA church that sports a number of theologically left organizations on the links page of their website.

I have come to an interesting place in my journey through the selva oscura of Anglo-American Anglicanism when I rejoice that my daughter has moved away from us. As I figure it, better that she be a Christian with a vital memory of a more catholic ecclesial experience than to remain in ECUSA and have her faith grow cold or retain catholic form now filled with christopagan substance.

This does, however, raise important questions of my own ecclesiastical allegiances. Have I, one who has considered myself of catholic sentiments, succumbed to anglo-congregationalism?

For #2 daughter I am overjoyed. As for me, I am troubled by the implications.

Which foxhole to die in?

2005-10-01T08:21:00.000-07:00

In his comments to the post “Are we wrong?” Moderate states, “And I often wonder, as a priest I know has said, if homosexuality is the wrong foxhole to die in, in the larger conflict with relativism/pluralism.”

I would concur completely. This has been my opinion since the Righter (non)Trial in the ‘90s. I always thought that those who brought changes against Bishop Righter chose both the wrong target and the wrong issue. If there were to be a trial it should have been involving a different bishop from a mid-Atlantic state for out and out heresy.

That being said, a few comments are in order.

Soldiers don’t get to choose the front they have to defend. I am certain that the 101st Airborne would have preferred to defend Einhoven rather than Bastogne. And Lee did not wish to have to defend the line near the Hagerstown Pike and the Dunker Church. The proper front was lost probably when Jim Pike got a mild slap of the hand in the late ‘60s. (This has been Philip Turner’s point.)

I recall that Churchill called WWII an “unnecessary war,” not in the sense that it should not have been fought, but that Hitler should have been confronted long before September 1939. Similarly, we are at this point because we did not adequately defend the faith earlier. This is an unnecessary battle in that sense.

The shame of having to defend this front (and I mean “shame” in the strongest possible senses here, not just “unfortunate”) is also expressed by Moderate earlier in his comment: “However the central question is a bit hard for me to deny, and it is one I wrestle with, knowing as I do a few faithful GLBT members of the church (well GL at least). Their position is hard to deny, and I do find myself wondering if I am wrong in denying it.” The shame is that this current presenting issue hit a certain segment of our church and society in such a personal way. I remember having to tell a woman that I could not perform or support her union with her partner. She was new to the congregation and she came to me with vulnerability and hope. It was deeply disappointing for her when I said I could not. The further background of the current crisis in the church placed this encounter within a larger context where we were players in a global drama.

Had we faced the theological crisis earlier, might have we avoided the pain of such encounters? Who can know? But certainly arriving at this juncture has foreclosed a certain level of pastoral connection that might otherwise been possible if the situation had not become so focused upon an issue that is so very personal.

Are we wrong?

2005-09-26T23:20:00.000-07:00

A friend asked me an interesting question the other day. With revisionist Anglicanism ascendant in ECUSA, has it ever occurred to me that they may be right and we wrong? Certainly both honesty and humility requires that indeed we may be in error. Proper confidence (to employ Lesslie Newbigin’s term) resides only in God.

That being said, I have problems with my friend’s question. While I can imagine myself as wrong, I cannot imagine my revisionist Anglican friends are right. (Now bear with me here. I am not trying to be ungenerous or belittling.)

First, let us ask what it means to say that the revisionists might be right? It is not merely about sex. Windsor is correct to say that it is the presenting issue. In order to make the theological affirmations that our revisionist friends wish to make one has to engage in a hermeneutic and theological method that constitutes a dramatic shift in the Christian faith to the extent that while the outward form looks similar, the inner substance is radically different. In brief, what we find is that the primary locus of religious authority resides in experience that then finds its reflection in scripture and tradition. The Episcopal Church represents an aggregate of religious experiences joined by a common symbolic language and practice, which is adjudicated through procedural democratic structures. Furthermore, this symbolic and ritual language is not descriptive of an objective reality, viz. the being of God, but of our experience of the divine. Other symbolic languages and rituals, Christian and otherwise, are other ways of articulating the experience of the divine, which cannot be ruled out as authentic a priori. While many revisionists would claim that they are orthodox and creedal Christians (and indeed still are as individually they have not worked out the implications), I think the theological method required to make the affirmations about homosexuality will lead eventually to this conclusion.

If we are honest this does not constitute a mere variation on historic Christianity, but is actually a significantly divergent religious paradigm. Indeed, I believe that it has much in common with the various private cults that competed for adherents with the Roman Empire in the first few centuries after Christ. Liberal Christianity is sect among many other sects, never claiming for itself any exclusive revelation, but giving spiritual expression to the inchoate numinous experiences of its adherents within a common ritual framework. Other sects do this, with varying levels of spiritual authenticity, for their devotees. If I am right in claiming this, then our opponents should better be understood as Christopagans. This is to say that Liberal Christianity is a pagan sect of spiritual enlightenment with Jesus providing a symbolic narrative.

(Similarly, from this perspective all world religions would be simply other pagan sects. This, of course, leads to the question of who it is that arbitrates between sects when they are in conflict, and who judges what texts and rituals are spiritually authentic or not. In short, who plays Caesar? Interesting question for another post.)

To say “they” are right and “we” are wrong is not to say merely that we need to make adjustments to our theology, but that a thorough going shift in theology is required. We would have to cease being Christians as we have been. This is not the same as coming to believe, say, in the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary. Were I to make this shift I would have to wonder why I am still an Anglican, but the shift required would affect my pension more than my ability to recite the Creed. I would still be an adherent of historic Christianity.

So it seems the question is not between two variations of Christianity, but between historic Christianity and a Christianized neo-paganism. And if Christianity or paganism is the choice, then, frankly, I’m going to choose a more robust and sensuous form of paganism than the Christianized form.

Signs

2005-09-25T19:44:00.000-07:00

There have been of late several ominous signs concerning possibilities of a break-up of the Anglican Communion and perhaps of ECUSA as well.

The first sign I will note here is the move by the Church in Nigeria to remove any reference to being in communion with the Archbishop of Canterbury as being a defining characteristic of Nigerian Anglicanism. Archbishop Akinola has assured us all that this does not mean a split, but I am not so sure. Folks such as Stephen Noll have told us that the African Anglicans are incapable of the type of dissembling we see in their Anglo-American counterparts. We’ll see.

The second sign (and this one is a BIG one, folks) is to be found in a recent article on the Rt. Rev. V. Gene Robinson in the Washington Post http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/09/23/AR2005092301185.html. In the article Robinson tells us that he now predicts a split in the Communion. This came about after attending the unofficial meeting Jon Bruno called in July of about twenty bishops from a wide variety of theological positions. While all were sworn to secrecy, Robinson has now broken silence to tell us that while he went to the meeting to “talk about how we can live together,” the conservatives wanted to “divvy up the property of this divorce.” This convinced him that a split is inevitable.

Let us leave aside Robinson’s disingenuousness and imputation of base motives to his opponents for the time being. The importance of his comments is that he has discarded 815’s party line that all is well in ECUSA and the Communion. To have Bishop Robinson concede that we are on the verge of a crack-up is HUGE.

While the end will be more like “The Hollow Men” than Beneath the Planet of the Apes (OK, two really weird and disparate cultural references), thus allowing Griswold to opine that everything is still peachy, it does begin to look inevitable.

I am sure that there are other signs out there, enough to fill an M. Night Shymalan movie (Another totally gratuitous pop reference). In any event, I think the grand ecclesial experiment that was the Anglican Communion may be coming to an end.

Why don't he write?

2005-09-25T18:12:00.000-07:00

“Someone back home is sayin’ ‘Why don’t he write?’”
-Dances with Wolves

I realize I have been pretty quiet on this blog since my vacation. My apoplogies.

What I do realize is that writing a blog is not an easy thing to keep up if you have in mind writing something of substance in the vein of Pontifications or Kew Continuum rather than the endless prattle of blogs such as… well you name ‘em.

But on top of that, as I watch things unfold in ECUSA and the Anglican Communion I all too often find myself reduced to bemused sighs. (But more on this anon.)

Another aspect of the experience of blogging as I am doing it now is that I am largely engaged in monologue here. I would be much more energized by a conversation.

So here is a suggestion to those who might be reading. Might we want to have a group blog to supplant Selva Oscura where we can respond to each other’s posts? (I wouldn’t want it to be a cyber food fight, however. We should just invite folks we are comfortable with. And I would like to observe a level of anonymity.)

Anyway, if any of you are reading this (Laudate, Moderate, Senior Priest, et al.) let me know.

The Campus Confessional

2005-08-23T16:05:00.000-07:00

This article from Leadership caught me quite off-guard. I found it a compelling example of evangelism. Do we engage the culture with creativity, passion, and risk?

I think we spend too much time bemoaning that the culture has moved from us, and therefore our message has become unintelligible. Our options are to sit and pine about the good old days, valiently engaging in rear-guard action, or to capitulate to the zeitgeist.

While I may not advocate a similar course of action at the nearest college as they did at Reed College, I do commend their creativity. And parishes should be just as creative.

Top 10 Fears of our Youth

2005-08-04T21:54:00.000-07:00

Findings of a provacative study reported in CT. Check it out. How can we apply the Good News of God in Christ to these fears? I'm open to suggestions.

Benedict XVI on Vacations

2005-07-18T10:37:00.000-07:00

"Vacation time offers the unique opportunity to pause before the thought-provoking spectacles of nature, a wonderful "book" within reach of everyone, adults and children. In contact with nature, a person rediscovers his correct dimension, rediscovers himself as a creature, small but at the same time unique, with a "capacity for God" because interiorly he is open to the Infinite. Driven by his heartfelt urgent search for meaning, he perceives in the surrounding world the mark of goodness and Divine Providence and opens almost naturally to praise and prayer."

Me & B16: The Similarities Continue

2005-07-13T22:01:00.000-07:00

Benedict XVI, on Holiday, Can Make MusicPiano Added to Alpine Chalet

LES COMBES, Italy, JULY 13, 2005 (Zenit.org).- Benedict XVI is spending his vacation accompanied by his closest aides -- and a piano, which enables him to relax with his favorite pastime: music.

I have the boom-box and bunch of Duke Ellington and Miles Davis CDs as well as Respighi’s Ancient Airs and Dances.

Me & Papa Ratzi

2005-07-13T11:46:00.000-07:00

From Zenit:

Benedict XVI Writing His First EncyclicalWhile Vacationing in Italian Alps

INTROD, Italy, JULY 12, 2005 - Benedict XVI has started to write his first encyclical, taking advantage of his peaceful surroundings in the Italian Alps, where he is vacationing.

Peregrinator, however, taking advantage of his peaceful surroundings in the Sierra Nevada beginning July 14, will not start any encyclical, first or otherwise, and neither will he probably post here until August.

Spong on believing

2005-07-11T16:31:00.000-07:00

I discovered this tidbit from John Spong after posting my rantings on Christian Believing yesterday. It would seem that he confirms my thinking on this. However, for Spong the shift that I spoke of is not the dysangellion that I think it is...

"Personal words about God - we must learn to admit - reveal, not God, but our own yearning. So believers in exile today are forced to face the fact that today all Bibles, creeds, doctrines, prayers and hymns are nothing but religious artefacts created to allow us to speak of our God-experience at an earlier point in our history. But history has moved us to a place where the literal content of these artefacts is all but meaningless, the traditional definitions inoperative and the symbols no longer competent pointers to reality."

Quotable

2005-07-10T22:57:00.000-07:00

David Yeago on the atonement as preached today:

"The gospel thus preached is invariably a gospel of affirmation, not transformation. It reassures us but does not make anything happen. The cross of Jesus is proclaimed as the token of our assurance that God is with us “no matter what,” a divine presence that enables us to cope with things as they are but does not change anything and therefore in the end reconciles us to things as they are. We have no plausible exegesis of Paul’s audacious pronouncement: “So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!” We tend rather to say: “If anyone is in Christ, there is a new interpretation: everything remains the same, but we feel quite differently about it.”"

Christian Believing

2005-07-10T21:57:00.000-07:00

Somewhere on my bookshelf is a book produced by the Doctrine Commission of the Church of England back in the ‘80s. The title of the book is Christian Believing. While the content has long since crept from my memory, one of the comments from a review still sticks in my mind. The reviewer pointed out that the Church has come to an interesting point when its Doctrine Commission writes reports not about what Christians believe, but about the act of believing. The subject has switched from God and his action of creation and redemption to the human subject as the one believing. Furthermore, we need to realize how significant this shift of subject is for the very being of the Church.

Big thoughts, these. And I, of course am One Who Thinks Big Thoughts™. But on a much smaller level, the parish church, this shift has had a larger impact than we might think.

All too often when I try to answer what Episcopalians believe I find myself in a default setting of describing the varieties of believing within Anglo-American Anglicanism rather than giving a positive statement about God, the work of redemption, and the life that flows from those affirmations. If positive, normative theological statements are made, sure shooting someone will readily point out plenty of Anglo-American Anglicans who dissent from the normative understanding. The Church that has Kendall Harmon and Philip Turner also has Jack Spong and Marcus Borg.

Orthodoxy has become a personal option for believing, rather than a communal affirmation of God and the economy of salvation. To say I believe in the Trinity says nothing about God, but more about me. What is revealed in my affirmation has perhaps more to do with my Myer-Briggs type than about the One known as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. (“Oh, you’re an NT. No wonder you like the doctrine of the Trinity!”)

(Interestingly enough, this is at the heart of a personal conversation I had with a very well known academic and writer popular in ECUSA. He commented that the doctrine of the Trinity is descriptive of Christian believing. I asked if the Trinity was an objective description of God, and he replied that he would not want to say that.)

Or take the all too prevalent practice in Episcopal congregations where the Rector admonishes communicants to just remain silent during the portions of the creed they cannot believe.

Even in thoroughly “orthodox” parishes what is being affirmed is less than the positive creedal statement as a statement of our belief over and against the prevalent view of other diocesan parishes, “Well, at St. Swithin’s we believe…” Orthodoxy in a parish is simply the aggregate of orthodox choices by the presbyter and the congregation.

As it has been pointed out often, the word heresy is derived from the Greek word meaning “to choose.” From this perspective even orthodoxy in ECUSA is heretical as it refers to a choice rather than to obedience to a common faith.

As I read the above, I wonder if I haven’t set up a red herring. But I do notice a different sort of rhetoric about the faith in the writings of, say, Benedict XVI or John Paul II. They tend to speak of the Faith as an objective reality under which they find themselves rather than an expression of their own subjective experience and epistemology.

I have, of course, more rantings on this topic, but I leave it now to others’ thoughts and critiques.

Ecclesial Chaos

2005-07-06T12:34:00.000-07:00

As has been reported throughout the Anglican blogosphere, several parishes have bolted ECUSA in the past month or so, including parishes in Oklahoma and Kentucky. Some are going AMiA and others affiliating with dioceses in Uganda. Others have come under the authority of the Bishop of Bolivia.

As one who might be thought of as sympathetic to their concerns, let me register my hesitation and even alarm. It would seem that we are unleashing a form of ecclesial chaos that shall not be easily remedied when (and if) the dust settles in the current unpleasantness in our communion.

Besides being ecclesiologically incoherent from an Anglican perspective, it would seem that it is a sin against the virtues of prudence and forbearance. As a friend pointed out to me, what is to prevent this fracturing and jurisdictional boundary crossing from becoming the normative means of dealing with intra-communion conflicts? And if so, have we not given up any claim on the title “catholic”?

Of course, that last question reflects Rome’s and Orthodoxy’s critique all along. The inner sectarian logic of Anglicanism is merely expressing itself. In the end, if this is the path that we choose to tread, Anglicanism will refer to a variety of dressed up protestantisms affirming the historical episcopate for no apparent reason.

So, I feel a little dumb

2005-06-25T08:49:00.000-07:00

I got my first response to one of my blogs and it was from none other than the highly respected Canon Theologian of the Diocese of South Carolina and well known blogger http://titusonenine.classicalanglican.net/ Kendall Harmon. It was to inform me that I had been writing his name wrong as Harmon Kendall.

Now I knew his name, but for some reason didn't get it right through my fingers. (Perhaps they were thinking Harmon Killabrew?)

In any event, Kendall+, I'm sorry.

(And in any event, I am a little embarrassed that you have found your way to my modest blog.)

"Listening" and "Listening"

2005-06-24T14:03:00.000-07:00

On another blog (Kendall Harmon's) a little fight has begun about whether or not the Global South is faithfully listening to gay and lesbian Anglicans as the various statements of the Church since Lambeth '98 have required. Below is my foray into the debate:

"As Inigo Montoya said to Vizzini at the Cliffs of Insanity, “You keep using that word. I don’t think it means what you think it means.”
There is an interesting debate emerging here and elsewhere about the imperative to “listen” in the midst of this debate on sexuality. To put it in the words of this blog, the reappraisers call us to actively listen to the experience of gay and lesbian Anglicans. By this they mean that the issue remains open. As long as we listen we may get the data that will change the position of the church in these matters.
“Yes”, the reasserters will say, “we will listen.” But they mean something slightly different. Listening does not mean that the issue is open. For many of them (not necessarily all, though) the issue has been decided by the scripture, the consensus fidelium through the ages, and ratified by Lambeth ’98. Listening connotes here a pastoral response within the boundaries of the received tradition.
Some might argue that this is “listening” in bad faith, that the whole concept of listening here requires believing that the question is open. But I do not think it necessarily follows.
As an example: a friend received a letter from a parishioner complaining about him being too Trinitarian. My friend listened respectfully and openly to the person’s difficulties with this doctrine. He did not, however, have to nullify the doctrine of the Trinity as a closed issue in order to listen to the parishioner.
Or how about this: I can openly listen to my old racist curmudgeon of an uncle, his fears and pains amid a changing world. I can even have a modicum of sympathy for him as a person in turmoil. But that is not to say that the return of Jim Crow is an open option.
Certainly there are some listening in bad faith on all various sides of this debate. Comes unfortunately with the fallen turf upon which the battle is joined. Our primary problem is not bad faith, but incommensurate understandings of what listening means here."

Alexandrianism???

2005-06-24T11:42:00.000-07:00

David Virtue has posted an interview with Archbishop Malango of Central Africa which is very interesting. (See link above.) If this is true and actually comes to pass the majority of what is now Anglicanism will become what might be called Alexandrianism, a realignment of Global South Anglicanism together with fellow travelers in ECUSA, CoE, etc. The center of this new communion will be in Alexandria, Egypt (known, of course, for its HUGE number of Anglican Christians).

The Archbishop also says that this mess will be sorted out before Lambeth '08. I take this to mean that if ECUSA in '06 and the Canadians in '07 don't decide in their respective synods to straighten up and fly right then the Africans are going to bring these matters to a conclusion in communion with Canterbury or without.

I'm not sure that the good Archbishop might not be bluffing here. (A hope that Griswold is counting on. This whole thing is begining to have the flavor of high stakes poker.) But in any event, these guys are serious.

What is also interesting to note is how tired the Global South is of "listening" and dialogue. Two things seem to underlie this noticable "listening fatigue." 1) The Global South folks believe that the listening is not mutual. 2) They are tired by the implication that the matter is still open. For them, listening is not about trying to decide what is right in issues of sexuality, but more of how we can be more sensitive to gay and lesbian Anglicans while affirming the traditional position nonetheless.

This would put them at odds with Rowan Williams, who has intimated that the position of Lambeth '98 is the settled position of Anglicanism for now, and that we would have to go a very long way before we could change, but might be open to revision later.

Update: Brad Drell over at Drell Descants has posted an AAC release contesting Virtue's take on Archbishop Malango's assertion of the emergence of a new Anglican communion centered in Alexandria. http://descant.classicalanglican.net/index.php?p=285#comments

Certainly not the first time Virtue has gotten things wrong.

Let the Spin Begin!

2005-06-22T14:38:00.000-07:00

The news from ACC-13 in Nottingham is that a very close vote on a resolution from representatives from the Global South has effectively "censured" or "expelled" or "(place favorite adjective here)" both ECUSA and the Canadian Church. Here is Kendall Harmon's post with comments: http://titusonenine.classicalanglican.net/index.php?p=7387#comments

What this really means is not yet clear, but the spin machines will be working on this one overtime.

What I suspect it means is more than Frank Griswold is comfortable with. Now each of the four "Instruments of Unity" are on record in this matter, which does not conform with the drift of ECUSA. The Statement of Lambeth '98 on sexuality is now recognized as the official teaching of the Communion, overwhelmingly by Lambeth and the Primates, reluctantly but firmly by Rowan Williams, and narrowly by the ACC. (On top of it, it appears that all Primates have been made ex officio members of subsequent ACC meetings, which will have the effect of pulling the ACC further rightward.)

Frank increasingly will be in the position of saying something akin to "well, we lost every electoral vote, but Pennsylvania was close."

On the other hand, the Network folks must realize that this probably doesn't mean as much as they would like it to mean. The ACC is not the posse on white horses who are going to make the bad guys get out of Dodge. There is a considerable minority voice in the Communion which will try to ameliorate any harsher measures.

The decisive moments are still a year off: GC '06 and the likely maelstrom of response by the Primates afterwards. Windsor, Newry, and now to a lesser degree Nottingham have all given us plenty of rope.

And I, for one, cannot imagine a good outcome for any members of ECUSA (barring a complete recantation, which won't happen.) The elation from some of the "reasserters" on Kendall's blog seems misplaced to me.

I am begining to think that in the end we will have two (or more) "Anglicanisms" in America, both of which will be small and declining.

Is the Reformation Over?

2005-06-22T09:45:00.000-07:00

Interesting read from CT's Books and Culture. The question is asked here from an Evangelical perspective. It may be time to ask the question from an Anglican perspective as well.

The Anglican Communion Institute asks the question from another direction in their essay on "Anglican Christianity":
http://www.anglicancommunioninstitute.org/articles/anglican_christianity.htm

Worth pondering both...

Williams' Address to the ACC

2005-06-20T13:38:00.000-07:00

The Archbishop of Canterbury's address to the Anglican Consultative Council is required reading for every Episcopalian. It is brilliant and most profound. I printed it up and with #2 pencil in hand spent three very large and very strong cups of coffee reading, marking, learning, and inwardly digesting.

I will comment in time, but right now I am in a ruminant mood.

One caution: I started reading the Address with the same hermeneutic of suspicion bifocals that I read anything from Frank Griswold or (supremely) the House of Bishops. Just receive his words and let them sink in. There are times that Williams' text seems nuanced. But it is not because he is being clever or cute, but because he is trying to go deep.

Note on comments

2005-06-19T17:49:00.000-07:00

OK, so I really am not as competent with this blogging thing as I thought. Apparently I had the thing set so as not to accept comments. I have changed the setting. That being said, I am not looking for the type of spirited debate I have noticed on blogs such as titusonenine. This is primarily for friends and fellow travelers. A little chicken, I know.

Great Tradition Anglicanism

2005-06-19T09:21:00.000-07:00

Below is the bulk of a comment I left a few days ago on Confessing Reader's blog a couple of days ago. I thought it appropriate to use for the first posting of substance on Selva Oscura.

"I perceive a desire for a form of catholic Christianity which longs to receive the insights of a variety of strands of the Great Tradition, whether found in Barth or Von Balthasar, Maximus the Confessor or Augustine, C.S. Lewis or Flannery O’Connor, or… well the list could continue for some time. (And we all have read large quantities of Newbignin and now Tom Wright.) We are synthetic rather than purely analytical and are wary of any absolute system that will insist that a John Wesley or a John Owen can simply be disregarded. We have drunk enough F.D. Maurice to expect that the final correlation of all these voices will be eschatological, and therefore can live with some tensions in our theological outlook.

Nevertheless, we are also wary of a boundary-less comprehensiveness as exhibited by the theological left and seek a conciliar based scriptural and creedal discernment of the limits of ecclesial teaching and practice.

We believe in the call to the concrete and historical unity of the Church and apostolic orders. We are embarrassed that we used to subscribe to the Branch theory and suspect that either Rome or Orthodoxy is the real embodiment of that historical unity, but also believe that a robust Great Tradition Anglicanism may just be Balaam’s Ass, reminding Rome or Constantinople (as well as the Protestants) of a generous catholic orthodoxy that is their deep inheritance.

We have made common cause with our Anglo-catholic and Evangelical/Renewed friends in Anglicanism, but find either direction left to its own to lead into a theological cul-de-sac.

Does anyone else recognize themselves in this, or is it just me?"

Keeping it alive

2005-06-03T16:04:00.000-07:00

OK, so I haven't really gotten down the discipline of keeping up a blog yet.

I'm off to Mexico with the Youth Group for a week, so I will begin in earnest with my posting then.

Una selva oscura

2005-05-20T23:33:00.000-07:00

"Midway through the journey of this life I found myself lost in a dark wood."

With these words Dante begins his harrowing journey through Inferno and on through Purgatorio until he came at last to the beatific vision offered to those who are seated in the Mystic Rose. I find myself in "una selva oscura" that is the current state of the Episcopal Church. I am most likely more than midway through the journey of my own life, but not too far from the midpoint of my vocation as a presbyter of the church.

The choice of the title for the blog refers in the first sense that as conflict and confusion seems to embroil the church I am experiencing a feeling akin to the feeling that Dante had. I feel disoriented and lost. But I also live in hope that just as the Pilgim of the Divine Comedy was led through the thicket into the love and clarity of the vision of God, so I must begin in hope that I shall not remain forever in the dark wood.

This blog will not be, however, my attempt to set the woes of ECUSA in epic poerty. In fact, I expect that if I keep this up it will be rather less than poetic. Just my thoughts on what is going on around me and my attempt to understand it.