This entry will be posted at my personal blog, Cognitive Dissonance, as well, because it is there that I have been archiving a chronicle of sorts for both my journey into Anglicanism and my subsequent discernment into the clergy. It will also constitute a heretofore personally despised mish-mashy style of personal reflection, theological inquiry, and sardonic social commentary that is commonly known by its official nom de plume, Practical Theology.
To begin, I probably ought to offer a little background. As a Pentecostal, the Eucharist (communion) had always been a point of tension for me. First, doctrinally speaking, I was always puzzled by the Evangelical proclivity for the term “ordinance” – especially in light of the strong sacramental disposition of their favorite reformers like Martin Luther. Clearly, I appreciate the distinction much of the Protestant church makes in identifying Baptism and the Eucharist as the principle sacraments. It is a distinction the Anglicans make as well. However, its hard to deny that the term “ordinance” is designed to differentiate between a simple act of obedience to a command instituted by Christ and the sacramental assertion that the same were instituted as a means for receiving grace. In a doctrinal sense, the disconnect is simple. If we practice these “ordinances,” but they have no efficacy (i.e. baptism is just a post-salvation act of obedience, and communion is just commemorative; neither has the power to change you), then why bother with them at all? Indeed, that was the tone that nearly every Evangelical church I attended took – some churches couldn’t be bothered to have communion more than four times a year. It was as if they were compelled by a tradition to which they felt no connection, many times falling into that dead, religious repetition of meaningless ceremonies. The irony being, of course, that this is the same accusation I heard leveled against the high church liturgy and sacramentalism my entire life.
Second, the doctrinal position of most Evangelical churches (let’s not forget that there are very strong and respectable Evangelical movements within sacramentalism) creates an anemic theology. The Sacraments provide an indelible theological connection to the ontological reality of Christ among His people. The Eucharist, especially, provides the framework for understanding how the Church functions as Christ (‘s body) in the world, and how Christ can yet be distinct within the Church as Lord. The sacraments of Baptism and the Eucharist also provide a point of contact for modern believers with the death and resurrection of Jesus – it is our participation also in the kerygma of the Church. Through the practice and proclamation of such we not only participate in Christ, becoming Christ to the world and experiencing Christ’s presence in our own lives, but we engage for the briefest of moments in the glory of Christ’s coming kingdom. I don’t know perhaps this isn’t Pentecostalism’s fault. In fact, I rather feel like the focus on the Baptism in the Holy Spirit with evidence of tongues placed the apparatus of faith within me to receive the sacraments so readily. It was like Pentecostalism programmed me to be in a sacramental church. Maybe I was just a piss poor Pentecostal? Nonetheless, my experience with Pentecostalism and Evangelicalism drove me to ask (sometimes divisive) questions about the purpose and nature of the Church. Questions, incidentally, that I have come to believe are answered primarily (perhaps exclusively) in the work of the Holy Spirit through the Sacraments. In fact, this is a link to a page where you can hear a sermon to this effect by the Very Reverend F. Michael Perko, PhD. Hit the drop down menu and listen to the June 6, 2010 sermon – it’s only 11 minutes long (honestly, the 11 minute sermon is better than this entire post – you’re welcome).
Third, by way of personal experience, I always felt that communion was lacking in the Evangelical churches that I visited. It would certainly be nice if I could drum up the corroboration of friends that remember these conversations, but many times I would leave a communion service complaining there just had to be more to it than juice, crackers, and a few verses from 1 Corinthians. Many times, I found myself excited for communion, and those rare moments that God would “speak to me” invariably came during communion services. So, I went looking for more explanation than was handed down by the likes of Grudem, Horton, and Fee. That was when some of the trouble started. In short, and hopefully without sounding bitter, allow me simply to say that my questions (in Bible College) were ignored, side-stepped, dismissed, or received with general irritation. This, of course, only led me to believe I was on to something – and I was.
This was necessary information, I think, in order for you to understand my account of last Sunday. Last Sunday I was blessed with my first opportunity to serve as a chalice bearer during one of our services. I’ll spare you the dramatic retelling of the events of the morning (though, in an inter-personal setting I believe them to be quite powerful) in favor of listing the things about the experience that have impacted me.
First, I was really anxious for weeks leading up to the date I was to serve. I spent a lot of time reflecting on this anxiety, and realized that the Lord was using it to tease out some issue in my heart. Most people who know me personally, would describe me in one fashion or another (some of them in colorful turns of phrase) to be a perfectionist. My origins are less than illustrious, and I had really developed a “pull yourself up by the bootstraps” kind of demeanor. In short, my anxiety over serving was really anxiety over appearances. I want desperately to do things right, and often this desire stems from a need to impress people. So, half an hour before service, I sat in the vesting room admiring a beautiful stained glass memorial and wrestling with my personal desire to be thought well of and the Church’s need for me to be a humble, unassuming servant for the morning. Of course, I did things wrong – and, of course, nobody thought less of me for them. Chalice bearing was a milestone in helping me let go of my pride, though. Indeed, I feel my lay ministry (and hopefully, in the future, my sacerdotal ministry) during the liturgy promises to be the most grounding experience of my Christian walk.
Second, I experienced a general elation about my participation in everything the Eucharist means. My heart was full, and I was on the verge of tears many times as I went through the service and contemplated how blessed (and proud in the good way) I was to be able to participate in God’s ministry of grace to his people. In fact, my heart was full of these emotions when the procession passed my family and my children jumped up and down smiling, saying “that’s my daddy.” The joy of being able to share in their experience was nearly too much to take – God was allowing me to be a vessel of service in their personal experiences with him. Perhaps most importantly, that moment has brought much clarification to my role as spiritual leader in the home (something in which, I must tell you, I have never felt lacking).
Feel free to comment, to share your experiences, or to ask questions. I am blessed by all the ways the community of Christ comes together in my life, not least of which are the people who invest in this blogging community.
The Difference Music Makes
February 25, 2010
Saw this and decided you all needed to see it, because I couldn’t stop laughing. It’s amazing how the scene takes on a different meaning when you change the soundtrack – what was surely an emotional, ecstatic situation looks like something Dante would write about. Hilarious {Sorry for the double-post, Tony – you can drop it in post order if you like, but you guys had to see this, now}
The Judgement of Pentecost(als)
February 25, 2010
I’ve been known for periodically maligning “Evangelicalism” and even “Pentecostalism” in various blog posts. But, as I feel quite strongly about a potential future in Anglican/Orthodox and Anglican/Pentecostal work, I am far from having a uniformly small opinion of Pentecostals. Indeed, I think it would be rather blind not to believe that, despite certain evil manifestations (“Health & Wealth” or various Trinitarian heresy), God has indeed given the Church a “wind” from the Spirit.
So I wanted to make mention of a few things that Pentecostals have to teach us, keeping in mind that I attempt to use “Pentecostal” in such a way as to describe Pentecostalism understood through historical churches rather than as anybody who expresses Charismatic gifts. Always remember that Charismatic Christians of various denominations from Catholics to Anglicans are growing along with Pentecostals (which leads me to believe that Charismatization need not accompany bad eschatology, but I digress)
- I am not an Evangelist, or at least I’d make a poor one and I’ve always been uncomfortable with it. But churches that grow are churches that evangelize and/or send missionaries. With the globalization of Christianity it is to be preferred that evangelism be done by the local church rather than by us Westerners, but the huge priority of Mission (almost never connected to lame trendy words like “Missional”) in Pentecostalism is a judgement on those Churches who feel no need to evangelize, or worse, find such a thing intolerable or unnecessary.
- Pentecostals were post-critical before it was cool or justified epistemologically. It forces us to attend to the Texts instead of “spiritualizing” bits of the NT which grate against rationalist nerves.
- Pentecostals aren’t afraid to go all Amos 5 on our liturgical asses
- Prayers for healing and manifestations of the “charismatic” gifts are something that all churches should practice (don’t choke the Holy Spirit)
- Pentecostals don’t neglect “the laity”
- Pentecostals have played a significant role in reminding us that God is Trinity – “We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the Giver or Life, who proceeds from the Father (and the …?), with the Father and the Son s/he is worshipped and glorified.”
- Pentecostals are unafraid of not just “helping the poor” but “being the poor.” Go into inner cities and who’s doing a most of the work with “minorities” and immigrants? There is a sort of slight embarrassment for me in being in what is often thought of as the white religion of the bourgeoisie in America.
Don’t get me wrong, I think that Pentecostalism has a LOT to learn from the church Catholic and historic. One hopes that as a movement it will be incorporated into the historic bodies, but that’s another list. Until then…Go Pentecostals!
A Word from George
February 24, 2010
Review: “What Hath Cambridge To Do with Azusa Street?” Part I
February 18, 2010
Smith, James K.A. “What Hath Cambridge To Do with Azusa Street? Radical Orthodoxy and Pentecostal Theology in Conversation.” PNEUMA: The Journal of the Society for Pentecostal Studies 25, no. 1 (Spring 2003): 97-114.
First, if you don’t already know, James K.A. Smith (PhD, Villanova University; associate professor of philosophy and director of the Seminars in Christian Scholarship at Calvin College) has become, in my opinion, the North American, Protestant “face” of RO. His assessment of the Cambridge movement is not that of a total outsider, but there is certainly some reluctance in his appraisal of RO. Nonetheless, he is shaping a presentation of RO that is less Anglo-Catholic, but not less liturgical; less politically liberal, but not less interested in social justice or cultural critique; and less continental, but not less skeptical of a secular framework so dependent on analytical philosophy. His writing is erudite, but not as unassailable as Milbank and crew.
Let’s just be honest, Milbank (especially) is to theological discourse what electronics manual writers were to VCR programming. He has helped to produce a theological movement that is new and refreshing without being trite or kitschy, but his writing is so technical that it is likely to be out of reach for all but colleagues and graduate students (I don’t even know many advanced undergraduate students that could slog through it, if any).
Second, if you didn’t already know, he (Smith) is apparently a Pentecostal – a Reformed Pentecostal. Here is an audio feed of Smith discussing being a Reformed Pentecostal, and a great article by Smith on “Thinking Pentecostals” where he characterizes Pentecostal theology as,
“Theology forged at the pulpit and in prayer, in the heat of revival and the swelter of the camp meeting—a theology that bears the stamp of its liturgical origins.”
His conclusion is that because of Pentecostalism’s origins it has not yet been given to academic treatments, but insists things should (and are about) to change saying, “Still, there is no denying that the early writings left most of Pentecostal thought entirely implicit. What has emerged in recent years is the attempt to make the ideas explicit.” He, obviously, is one of those attempting to make Pentecostal theology “explicit.”
If you ask me, I think organizations like the Assemblies of God should immediately drop their courtship of individuals like Fee (who has been hugely disappointing to even the most “liberal” Pentecostals in his reluctance to embrace a full Pentecostal identity), and should immediately endorse Smith as next leader and scholar extraordinaire of the Pentecostal movement.
{Author’s Note – *RANT STARTS HERE* -But that still is not going to fly, because if you know anything about the “old guard” in institutions like the A/G you know they will not endorse anyone that will not get on-board with their characterization of tongues as a “Cardinal Doctrine” of the church. Smith knows too much about theology to go down that road, and so Pentecostalism is going to remain “implicit” – to use Smith’s characterization – *END RANT*-}
As a way to justify my rant, allow me to quote Smith’s article. Please, forgive my anachronism. On pages 109-110, Smith briefly proposes five key elements of a Pentecostal worldview and theology. There are (1) A positioning of radical openness to God, and in particular, God doing something differently or new…(2)An emphasis on the continued ministry of the Spirit, including continuing revelation, prophecy, and the centrality of charismatic giftings in the ecclesial community…(3) a distinct belief in the healing of the body as a central aspect of the work of atonement…(4) because of an emphasis on the role of experience, and in contrast to rationalistic Evangelical theology, Pentecostal theology is rooted in an affective epistemology that seeks to undo dualisms…(5) a central commitment to empowerment and social justice, with a certain “preferential option for the marginalized” tracing back to its roots at Azusa Street as a kind of paradigm of marginalization.
This all makes me wonder within what context Smith is a Pentecostal. Frankly, I read his list and think, “Hey, that sounds really good,” and I almost want to be a Pentecostal again (These are almost certainly those elements of Pentecostalism that one of my current, Episcopal mentors warned me not to abandon).
I have to take issue with Smith’s list, though. I don’t take issue with the list for any academic reasons, but for pragmatic reasons. Where is there a Pentecostal church in America that lives out this worldview? Sure, there may be charismatic Catholics, Reformed Pentecostals, Spirit filled Anglicans, and the like that live out this worldview, but where are there self-professing “Pentecostal” churches that could even articulate any of these points (outside, perhaps, of the first three – and only then in the scope of such A/G abominations as Bible Doctrines: A Pentecostal Perspective, and “Where We Squat” - which doesn’t amount to much more than propaganda )?
In fact, my experience has been that most Pentecostal churches believe that #2 is the lense through which all others should be viewed, but only as #2 is rightly articulated through the initiating experience of IPE. A more recent development among conservative evangelicals, you know – how the “religious right” has been co-opted by the GOP, causes me to doubt seriously that #5 is even plausibly a concern outside of “getting people in the door” of Pentecostal churches. Finally, I think Smith forgot #6. He forgot to mention the extreme Pre-Trib rapture, millennial reign, it’s all going up in an apocalyptic fireball eschatology that pervades Pentecostal theology and dampens any affect #4 might have on Pentecostals’ thinking.
{Author’s Note: I should also point out, in fairness, that Smith calls his list “certainly debatable and incomplete” in the very next paragraph}
Your thoughts?
Oral Roberts, 1918-2009
December 15, 2009
At 91 years of age, the (in)famous Pastor Oral Roberts came to be present to the Lord today. Roberts was one of the first preachers to really run with the so-called “Prosperity Gospel” and turned it into an evangelical empire consisting of even a University.
There can be no question that most on this blog consider the Prosperity Gospel to be no gospel at all. It is certainly not the gospel of Christ who called out his ministry quoting Isaiah:
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.” - NRSV
Christ’s burden is one of freedom, but also of suffering. And those who accept the Good News are not promised material wealth but are incorporated into the eternal self-offering of the Son to the Father.
But, there is no question that Roberts was still an evangelist and undoubtedly there are a great many people who have come to saving faith on account of his preaching.
He was, as we all are, a mixed up batch of faithfulness and faithlessness.
Resquiescat in Pacem pastor Roberts.
I know many of us have a shared Pentecostal ancestry, so to speak. I have spent the better part of a year contemplating how my Pentecostal heritage is going to continue to influence my Christian walk. There has always been an element of Pentecostalism, and charismatic movements for that matter, that has resonated with me spiritually. In fact, as a confirmed member of the Episcopal Church, I have found that the spiritually efficacious nature of charismatic/Pentecostal theology is still very much part of how I live out my faith. Indeed, I have even been caught off guard by it in a couple of settings.[1] I bring this up, because I have never been academically satisfied with the Pentecostal doctrinal propositions or defenses offered by Pentecostal scholars.[2] However, I am not willing to “throw the baby out with the bath water,” to borrow from a colloquialism that I have oft heard being tossed around in Pentecostal institutions. So, after a couple of years spent ruminating and a couple of very long conversations with one of Loyola University’s professors emeritus, I have finally found a way to begin articulating, theologically, the struggle I have with Pentecostal doctrine.[3]
As an undergraduate student, it quickly became evident to me that some doctrines are, well, more “doctrinal” than others.[4] I mean to say that some doctrines that are entertained by Christians are orthodox, and some are not. They are a matter of personal preference, and do not really constitute something the broader community must believe or practice, though they may articulate the official position of one Christian sect. This may seem nit picky, but it makes all of the difference in the world to me. I cannot abide by the fact that many Pentecostals see in their Pentecostal doctrine certain elements that are essential for belief. I agree that many elements of charismatic/Pentecostal theology are edifying, that they enhance spirituality, and that they offer practical ways of living out our faith – and, as such, are worthy of pursuit. However, Pentecostal doctrine is not essential to the Christian walk, and to teach it as such is an abuse of authority. These were the only ways that I was previously able to articulate my frustration.
Lately, though, I have found a cleaner way to address the problem I have with the Pentecostal experience and the teaching of Pentecostal doctrine. I think the problem I have is a simple disconnect that exists between the mystical and the intellectual. I think the church has been experiencing and will continue to experience some fallout over the western church’s reaction to the Enlightenment. The modernist response to the Enlightenment has made mystical Christianity all but an anathema. However, this is the source of my issues with Pentecostalism. The charismata is something to be approached apophatically and not cataphatically. The gifts of the Spirit, including tongues, constitute legitimate mystical experiences, and, yet, the Pentecostal church wants to teach it cataphatically.[5] I think this is the same problem the Roman church ran into with its teaching on transubstantiation – they wanted to “teach” a mystical experience.[6] As a result, I feel a lot better about the role that the charismata will play in my Christian life. They are, as I believe Paul intended, an ad hoc mystical experience designed by God to enable Christians to interact with the Spirit as the Church functions as Christ’s agents in the world.
[1] One instance in particular comes to mind – at a spiritual retreat with 310 teens, I found myself laboring in prayer with a girl and was surprised to be led by the Spirit to pray in tongues, so I did – privately.
[2] Honestly, how many times have you heard a Pentecostal call that phrase, “Pentecostal scholar,” an oxymoron? I have heard professors at A/G institutions do it.
[3] Though, not necessarily with Pentecostal practice – which doesn’t even scratch the surface of how hard it has been to separate the frustrations I have with evangelical theology/practice from that of Pentecostal heritage.
[4] I hope to invoke not only the denotative (a collection of teachings, beliefs, etc) sense of “doctrine,” but also the connotative element as well. The emotional force of saying that something is the official teaching of your church amounts to saying, “you must believe, do, say…”
[5] Remember those camp evangelists that had everyone at the altar doing “Pentecostal calisthenics” to warm the new initiates up for the baptism in the Holy Spirit?
[6] It, incidentally, is also where many protestant churches run into trouble as well. They want to make the “mystical” aspect of communion into a memorial or “visible” Christian practice, and just end up robbing it of meaning. What good is a mystical experience without mystery?
Tony Hunt
jstambaugh
Shawn Wamsley
