Sermon for the 6th Sunday of Easter
May 30, 2011
I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit. You have already been cleansed by the word that I have spoken to you. Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing. Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. If you abide in me and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples. John 15:1-8 (NRSV)
Holy and righteous God, you are the author of life, and you adopt us to be your children. Fill us with your words of life, that we may live as witnesses to the resurrection of your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
My snappy introduction (Dr. Watson would be so proud) involved the old-time radio program Fibber Mcgee and Molly, and ended with the joke: “As the fly said when he got stuck in the strawberry preserves, I’ve been in much worse jams than this.” Much pity laughter ensued.
In our Gospel reading this morning, Jesus makes another one of his I am statements that He is so famous for in the Gospel of John. Earlier in the book he said, “I am the light” “I am the bread of life” “I am the door.” “I am Good shepherd.” In last week’s reading he said, “I am the way the truth and the life.” And, now, as he prepares his disciples for his imminent arrest, torture, death, and resurrection, He says, “I am the true vine, you are the branches…” further on, he states, “Abide in me as I abide in you.”
Like the other I am statements, this one is a rich metaphor which gives us insight into Christ’s true character. We don’t have time to unpack all of the gems that this metaphor offers us, but I would like to focus on several aspects of one of the key words in the passage. I want to dwell on the word “abide.” In this passage Jesus uses the word “abide” over and over; 9 times in 8 verses. Clearly, he wants to emphasize to his disciples the importance of abiding, of remaining, of showing up and sticking around. But, it seems like a rather odd thing to say to them right after he finished telling them that where he is going they cannot follow, and right before leaving them in the hands of the people who wish to murder him. So what did Jesus mean when He said, “Abide in me as I abide in you?”
To understand this a little better I want to look at another passage in John’s Gospel where Jesus uses a related metaphor, and in which our word abide plays a prominent roll. In John chapter 6, starting in verse 51 Jesus says,
“I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” The Jews then disputed among themselves saying, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” So Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.”
This bread of life passage together with the true vine passage sparks in us a powerful image of what it means to abide in Christ. Because we believe that mystically, mysteriously Christ is present in the bread and the wine of the Eucharist, when we consume the bread and the wine we are in a way following Christ’s admonition in John 6 to eat his flesh and drink his blood. But this Eucharistic meal is not like any other meal. Yes, we consume it, we put it in our mouth, chew and swallow, but then it, or more exactly Christ which is present in it, consumes us. Through consuming we are consumed by the love and peace and presence of Christ. The Eucharist is a way that we are connected to Christ. It is a way to abide in Him, as He abides in us. In fact, when we use the word Communion in place of Eucharist, we can see the connection: To commune with someone means to abide with them. Through Communion we abide with Christ. But of course, there is another dimension of Communion that we also see in our Gospel reading. When we participate in Communion we are not only communing with God, but with each other. The disciples at the last supper were not just eating with Christ, they were eating with each other as well. We are not isolated from each, here on these altar rails when we receive the Eucharist. We are participants in the mystical body of Christ which unites all believers, all Christians everywhere and in all times.
Father Terrence Lee, a beloved former canon here at St. John’s, tells the story of the first time his grandfather set foot in the Episcopal church. It was in the South, during the height of segregation. When Fr. Terrence’s grandfather entered the church, he was surprised to find that there were both black and white members of the congregation present. When it was time to go down and take communion, he and his wife went down and knelt at the altar; on either side of them were two white men. When the common cup of wine came their way, the man next to Terrence’s grandfather drank, and then Terrence’s grandfather drank from the cup, and then his grandmother, and then the white man next to them drank, without hesitation or pause, and then on down the line. That was day Terrence’s grandfather became an Episcopalian. He was shocked he had been allowed to drink from the same cup as these white men. At the altar rail, he had not been treated differently because of his skin. In the midst of a culture of separation, of distrust and of hate, he found at Communion, a different reality of unity, trust, and love. That is what communion is about. That is what abiding is about. We cannot abide in Christ unless we also abide with each other. This is sort of a radical concept; as branches we cannot be rugged individuals trying to go it alone. Who ever heard of a vine with only one branch? If such a thing exists it certainly isn’t healthy.
Coming back to our Gospel passage, when Jesus says that those who abide in him will bear fruit, we see from the context of the passage that one of the things he specifically has in mind is love for one another. Just a couple verses later, in verse 12, he says, “this is my commandment: that you love one another”. And throughout Jesus’ farewell address in John 13, 14, and 15, He says it over and over, “Love one another.” This is echoed in our epistle reading from 1 Peter, “Finally, all of you, have unity of spirit, sympathy, love for one another, a tender heart, and a humble mind.” When we abide in Christ, this will invariably be the fruit, that we will also abide in love with each other.
We must not forget in all of this, that today is the sixth Sunday of Easter. The events described in our Gospel reading occur before the Resurrection, but they were written down afterward, and because we are a Resurrection people, we come to this reading with our Resurrection goggles on. If you leave out the Resurrection, our text is a rather confusing and disappointing one: Christ tells his disciples to abide in him and that he will abide in them, and then he goes off and dies, and his disciples abandon and deny him in the process. The end. But, fortunately for the disciples and for us, the story does not end there. Christ came back to life, and this One event changes everything, it marks the everything that we do and say and read and listen to.
Reading this passage through the lens of the Resurrection is not without precedent. Listen to a meditation on the image of the Vine as it relates to the Resurrection written in the fourth century by St. Cyril of Jerusalem:
“A garden was the place of His Burial and that which was planted there said, I am the vine! He was planted therefore in the earth in order that the curse which came because of Adam might be rooted out. The earth was condemned to thorns and thistles, but the true Vine sprang up out of the earth, that the saying might be fulfilled, Truth sprang up out of the earth, and righteousness looked down from heaven.”
I love this image. The true vine, chopped down by death and buried only to shoot forth out of the ground again with new life. This is our hope. This is reason we are here. The reason we are Christians. This is the reason we sign for this in the first place. In little while there will be a baptism here, and the Resurrection is what Baptism is all about. Baptism represents dying to the old life and being reborn anew in Christ. It is the sign of a new creation, a new Resurrection reality.
We are called as branches abiding in Christ to be participants in this new reality. When we abide in Him, we have no other choice; healthy branches make fruit; and that fruit is our witness of the new reality of Christ’s Resurrection, our witness to the all-powerful, death-defying, reconciling love of Christ for all the world. The world is a dark place, full of death, and hopelessness. The world needs our witness, our fruit born of Christ’s new reality. War, natural disaster, oppression, and sickness: the world could use the joy, and hope that the True Vine offers through us, his branches. As Barbara Johnson puts it, we as Christians are called to be Easter people in a Good Friday world. This is why Peter admonishes us to love one another and to live in unity of spirit, why we must not repay evil for evil, why we must keep our tongues away from deceit, turn away from evil, and pursue peace. These things, love, truth, unity and peace are the hallmarks of Christ’s new reality. These things are the fruit we are called to bear, and they just so happen to be the fruit the world so desperately needs. Not the grapes of wrath—we have the grapes of wrath—but the grapes of love and reconciliation.
But as Jesus says, we can do nothing, unless we abide in Him and He in us. The good news is that we don’t have to worry about Christ keeping His end of the bargain. We may choose NOT to abide. But Christ never chooses this. He has promised never to leave or forsake us. In a way we are stuck with Him and He is stuck with us. But, there are truly worse jams than this. [more pity laughter] I am reminded of the wonderful Easter hymn (youtube/oremus hymnal) that we have been singing, particularly the fourth verse which is based on Romans chapter 8, verses 38 and 39:
Jesus lives! our hearts know well/
nought from us his love shall sever;/
life, nor death, nor powers of hell/
tear us from his keeping, ever./
Alleluia!
Through his resurrection Christ has conquered the disease of sin, and the drought of death, and has therefore enabled us, his branches, to abide in him, the True Vine, now and forever. Amen.
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.
Baptism & Eucharist
December 22, 2009
It is pretty rare that we dedicate a post to pointing out someone else’s blogging but I thought this series by Fr. Matt Gunter about the necessity of Baptism for Eucharist was exemplary. O that all our priests could consider theologically in like manner!
PART I – A Sketch of an Argument for the Logic of the Traditional Discipline
PART II – Inclusion vs. Renewal & Incorporation
PART III & IV – Community vs. Association & Fellow Citizens
PART V – Under Judgment
PART VI & VII – Transformation & Whose Table?
PART VIII – Hospitality
PART IX – Conclusion
Flux II: Why Old Stuff Matters
May 29, 2009
“Flux” is a continuing series on my year visiting churches of various Christian traditions.
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I first experienced Eastern Orthodoxy as a 21-year-old traveling through Ukraine. Even then, the tradition enchanted me. At the time I was interning with a missions organization working in Eastern Europe. I knew that many of the churches we were helping to plant were located in heavily Eastern Orthodox or Roman Catholic areas. It was also become increasingly clear that these traditions were undoubtedly Christian, perhaps in some ways even more Christian than me. So why are we evangelizing Christians? I wondered.
It was the opening spark of a lesson that took me a few years to learn: old stuff matters.
By “old stuff,” I mean the bulk of the ancient practices and symbols many modern Evangelicals (both intentionally and unintentionally) learned to de-emphasize or ignore. In my studies, I realized there were a number of questions I’d never fully explored: where did the Bible come from? who first outlined concepts like the dual-natures of Christ and the Trinity? what is our modern conception of hell based on? Many of the answers to these questions were found in studying the first few centuries of Christianity, an area of scholarship sometimes called Patristics or a little more broadly, Christian Origins.
I learned that whether one recited the creeds in church or not, they were formative and part of our shared Christian heritage. Whether one appreciated liturgy or found it dull, it was influential in shaping modern forms of worship. I learned that Sacramental theology left a precedent for how we expected to experience God–even if one didn’t look for Him in Eucharist anymore. Most importantly I learned that issues like church governance, division, authority, human sexuality and the role of the Church in the world were problems as old as Pentecost.
Perhaps most poignantly, however, I was struck by how bewitching the tradional forms of worship could be. The ancient liturgies enchanted me, the Icons arrested me–I felt myself being pulled into something older and bigger and altogether more enveloping than my previous, more individualistic Church experiences had been. All my life, I had endeavored to maintain the right belief or “Apostolicity*” of my faith. But it wasn’t until my year of visiting Churches, that I was first introduced to its commanility or “Catholicity**.”
* (Apostolicity in this case, just means the faith of Apostles, or what was handed down to us.)
** (Catholic not in the Roman sense, but in it’s older meaning of ‘universal’ or ‘entirety).
To Tony: A Response
March 30, 2009
*This is a response to Tony’s post which he just put up. I was going to just put this in the comment box but I soon realized it was too long. So read his post first, comment if you feel like it, and then if you want you can read this.*
Tony:
I’ll try and mention a few things that have helped me and that I think might help you; but in the end there’s no way I would presume to “solve” all your worries.
I am not sure if you are attending any specific church but I would highly recommend trying out churches in the liturgical tradition. (by “try out” I don’t mean to reduce it to “what liturgy you like,” or “church shopping;” I assume that you would be searching out their doctrine and all, talking to priests/pastors) There are many reasons why I would suggest this but I would point out one first, which is to me the most important; namely the Eucharist as focus and climax of worship. The famous and late Orthodox historical theologian Jaroslav Pelikan said it like this –
“That as long as there have been Christians they have gathered around bread and wine; theories about it have changed, details on performance have changed, but that central practice has never changed.”
That at least, Tony, is some incredible continuity. Certainly preachers all have their own interpretations, but the celebration of the Eucharist, and all that it entails, is contiguous with the whole of Christian history. It has been a great help for me to slowly understand the Eucharist as more than symbolic – as the place where we offer ourselves up and are taken up by grace into the living presence of our Lord. And, you are sort of right with Catholics, but also sort of wrong. As our friend “quickbeamoffangorn” will tell you, since the de-latinization of the liturgy there has been a proliferation of different takes on the liturgy and there are even now some Catholics who have to “church shop” if they don’t want to be in a “spirit-of-Vatican II” kind of parish. For instance in downtown Minneapolis, if you are a liberal Catholic you go down to the Basilica, and if you are not you go to St. Olaf. Nonetheless, there is certainly more continuity within Roman Catholicism between parishes. Though different “orders” emphasize different parts of Catholicism.
This is why both “Word” (ie-preaching, but not restricted only to this) AND “Sacrament” (ie-Communion, Eucharist, Lord’s Supper etc…) are the two central aspects of a worship service. Now we were raised with a very low view of the Sacraments in the AG (but oddly, a high view of the worship service and an understanding that God met us in worship). To us they were merely symbolic, and indeed, the symbolism is a necessary part of what is going on; but I would say that there is much more to the Eucharist than symbolism. Be it “transubstantial,” “consubstantial,” or “real presence,” the great catholic traditions all assert that it is Jesus Christ himself coming to meet us in the celebration of Communion. I also want to comment on the problem of “multiple interpretations.” Because I think that we are heirs to worst kind of low protestantism which believes that reading the Bible is an individual affair. Just me and my bible, yep. That reason alone, I think, has been the the cause of so many divisions within the protestant tradition: This idea that ones interpretation is the be-all-end-all interpretation, which can only result in confusion (as you and I have experienced it) and division. “I’m gonna leave and read the Bible MY way” I see this for instance in the fall away groups within Anglicanism in the US. There are 40 some odd “Continuing Anglican” churches and I expect there will be 40 more one day.
Let me humbly suggest that bible reading is a Communal affair, and even a graced one at that. When you and I read the Scripture we should be reading it with Jerome and Chrysostom as much as we read it with Borg and Wright. That is not to say that I believe in the Roman Magisterium, or in controlling Bishops, or that the older the interpretation the better – many allegorical readings by some church fathers are way out of the park – or whatever; but that there is a sort of hubris of Time in thinking that where we are right now is the full truth. Certainly “historical” reads of Scripture have changed in huge ways over the last 300 years of “historical investigation” of Scripture and certainly in 100 years our readings will be different. Continuity in this regard is not so much about monolithic readings of Scripture (as if it’s just one big book anyway!) as it is the mutual submission and self-giving in interpretation. Wright calls this a “hermeneutic of love,” I call it “reading with the church.”
To sort of synthesize what I am trying to say I would say that it seems that you are still in a “bible-centered” Christianity; I have found a “Gospel-centered” Christianity to be that which puts the focus where it needs to be. That is one of the reasons that I am becoming Anglican as opposed to Roman Catholic or Eastern Orthodox. As Anglicans, we try to put the great Creeds and the core of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection at the center of our Ecclesiology. You can be an anglo-catholic, Calvinist, Weslyan, liberal and it doesn’t mean that “your out.” That is also why I can say that I am a “whatever-I-am-now.” It’s not a lazy cop out of conviction, rather it is knowing that what I believe now at this very moment is not the whole of the Church. I can struggle in faith and even doubt certain doctrines (though I don’t want to just give up in doubt) because my belief is centered in prayer, worship and Eucharist; I’ve been baptized and filled up with the Holy Spirit.
I was just watching Star Wars and Princess Leia at one point says to her enemy “The tighter you grip the more star systems are going to slip through your fingers” That is sort of how I look at “truth” and “continuity.”
If I try and grip the truth, then fragments sort of pour out and I lose that certainty that I was looking for. But “knowing” is more like being held by truth than holding truth.
St. Paul said it outright – that we only see and know “in part,” but one day we will know fully even as we are fully known. So perhaps we are not reading the same book, but we serve the same Lord.
Quote of the Day
January 15, 2009
I am now reading a book on liturgical theology by an Asian Assemblies of God theologian Simon Chan. When I am done I will review it, but I loved this quote in a chapter dealing with the relationship between the Word preached and the Eucharist.
“If preaching does not have [this] a eucharistic orientation and focus, it no longer qualifies as the proclamation of the gospel. This is what happens when worship is not shaped by the Eucharist. Preaching then takes on a life of its own, and before long all sorts of “gospels” are proclaimed in the name of Christ.” – emphasis my own, p69
One of my favorite things that hooked me when I began attending an Episcopal Church, was that the sermon was only about 15 minutes, as compared to like 45 min to an hour in my low protestant pentecostal church. The focus was truly on Jesus present in the bread and wine, and the pulpit wasn’t for bashing Methodists (which is ironic considering the AG roots from Methodism, but whatever)
Authority: A Response, perhaps a few ways forward?
October 9, 2008
I do not think that a point by point response will really say the things that I want to say. I will say that you put your finger on some great points. Overall though, because you extrapolate on each Source of Authority individually I feel that you miss the fact that in all Movements, the four of these (Scripture, Tradition, Reason, Experience) play simultaneous roles, usually without the thinkers knowledge.
First a few points to clear the air. EVEN IN THE ‘CATHOLIC’ TRADITIONS THERE IS NO TRUE AGREEMENT ON ALL DOCTRINES. There are Roman Catholics who write theology and history that do not receive the Imprimatur and there are Orthodox priests who think that the Philioque is an acceptable position to hold (provided it is admitted to be a later accretion) or that women should be able to be priests. And so, as in most Protestant traditions, there is a disconnect between what the “Official Body” counts as Dogma and what the individuals within that body actually believe.
What then holds the Movements together? That is a simple answer…
Ecclesiology
A first reaction might be the Eucharist. But that is simply not true. We all partake in the Eucharist. The reason that some will not take it with others is because of Ecclesiology. Who is in “The Church” and who is out. As pointed out above, universally held doctrine is not a reality, and so it is the Episcopacy which determines unity. The unity from the Eucharist (in exclusivist Bodies) is only attainable by permission and blessing from the Body Politic. The only possible exception might be exclusivist Lutherans who really do seem concerned only with dogma. Though even there one needs permission from the Pastor before they can partake, even if one can sign the Eucharist card in good conscience.
In summary:
Authority, although important, is not the unifying factor, because Authority has no place of influence outside of Ecclesiology. Diversity to a degree is tolerated within Movements because of usually unspoken rules about how much diversity can be tolerated. Only once the Movement begins to feel that some people are approaching the out-of-bounds territory does Authority begin to have a place to settle disputes and maintain unity and order.
Possible way(s) Forward:
It is funny that most of the Corpus Paulinium is devoted to Ecclesiology. While many of the words of Jesus and the Early Church are not universally applicable metaphysical laws, rather timely words of God, Paul’s struggle to ‘graft’ Gentiles into the People of God is still pertinent, still applicable with almost no anachronism. I look to Paul not because of a “biblical” authority, but because it is our earliest testimony. Earlier than the Gospels; certainly earlier than the first author to speak of the Episcopacy, Ignatius of Antioch.
Here again is the situation, this might be “New Testament 101″ but it must be set up. Jesus was a Jew. He preached almost exclusively to Jews. The earliest followers were Jews. Many of them, even though Jesus had opened up a new way to relate to “Works of the Law,” still maintained their Jewish identity through the observation of Jewish ritual practices, although now shaped around Jesus whom they believe to be the Messiah. Enter, Diasporic Jews and Gentile converts, still encouraged/required to follow circumcision and kosher practices. Enter, Paul: Paul is called of God to bring in Gentiles to the People of God, around Jesus the Messiah. Paul feels that these Gentiles are brought in by Faith in Jesus the Messiah and that they should not be circumcised or required to follow Jewish rituals, but many others say otherwise. Paul fights tooth and nail and he asserts repeatedly that ALL THAT IT TAKES TO BE A MEMBER IN THE NEW PEOPLE OF GOD, THROUGH JESUS THE MESSIAH IS FAITH IN JESUS. There is nothing of Popes, Bishops, Dual Natures, Essences, Begotten Not Made, Tran/Con/Real Pres./Myst.- ation and the like.
As evidenced by the constant doctrinal correction by Paul and John especially, it is plain that often the Converts struggled to maintain proper doctrine. Even as Paul attempts to correct some false teachings that some Christians believe, he maintains that despite their confusion they are members on account of their faith.
I propose that it is a reassertion of the belief in “Justification by Faith” (as even the Romans affirm, see Hans Kung’s dissertation, or the joint Lutheran/Catholic Declaration) that should be THE DECIDING factor which determines who is part of the “One, Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church”
What of disputes then?
I say that it is the Public Discourse, focussed locally, across denominational lines, whereby doctrines are stated and tested by a simultaneous combination of the Four points of Authority. It is the accountability and submission to each other as fellow Christians which will help correct errors. A pragmatic (but not dogmatic) idea would be for us all to take on Episcopal government, but that is unlikely to happen.
In order to practice and reinforce unity by faith in Jesus Christ we should gather around the “Body and Blood” together, love each other transformationally, and practice justice in unity.
Tony Hunt
jstambaugh
Shawn Wamsley
