Thoughts, Anglo-Catholic: On ‘Traditionalists’ or “You Can’t Handle the Oxford Movement”
July 12, 2010
As a movement, as a theologically ‘centered’ or ‘coherent’ vein of Anglicanism, at least in my experience, and in the West, traditionalist Anglo-Catholicism is dead. There are of course many Anglo-Catholics, many of whom drive the theological wheels. I’d say in fact that the theological heavyweights in Anglicanism are in fact predominately though not exclusively ‘Anglo-Catholic.’ Long-lasting effects of Anglo-Catholicism can be felt in our revived Prayer Books; they can be seen in various liturgical performances; we like to recount the Oxford Movement and the (poorly understood and barely read) ‘Liberal Catholics’ in our histories; but if we are to take it as a continuing theological presence, and if we are to take the Oxford Movement and the Liberal Catholics as paradigms, then I personally don’t see many indicators that ACism sustains a theological vein apart from certain British movements of recent memory.
Maybe I’m right, maybe I’m wrong. I’ve gotten into not a few conversations about this with people who mostly disagree with me and/or disagree with how I define ‘Catholic.’ But as an example lets look at the possible move of some traditionalist AC clergy from the Church of England on account of the likely move to allow women to be bishops.
Without a ‘conscience clause’ these clergy would have to accept the sacramental and pastoral oversight of a woman if such a thing came to pass. For these people, this would amount to an abandonment of true sacramentality; a transgressing of the apostolic office and the foundation that Christ himself laid and set out for eternity: If you have a mitre, you must have XY chromosomes and a penis.
Let us assume for the sake of the argument that the Oxford Movement (OM) and probably even the Liberal Catholics (LCs) would disagree with both womens ordination and especially women bishops. Current traditionalist ACs until this point have suffered their conscience on the matter of women clergy in the C of E so long as it didn’t happen in their parish. Indeed, if a ‘conscience clause’ had not been rejected as it seems it will be, even still, so long as they themselves were able to practice their piety in good conscience, then it seems few if any would have been tempted to leave the C of E.
Enter a proposition: AC clergy (in the C of E) will not leave the church even if there are women clergy and bishops in the church so long as they are able to maintain their own practice.
That is, they can suffer a diversity on this issue in their wider fellowship, both in the C of E and in the wider Communion.
Proposition II – AC clergy are in Eucharistic (that is, the highest level of) fellowship with women clergy and bishops and parishoners ‘under’ them.
If we are to assume that a ‘true’ traditionalist AC does not ‘recognize’ the sacramental validity of women clergy, then:
Proposition III – ACs are able to abide ‘invalid’ sacraments in part of their church.
If these three propositions are true, and broadly of traditionalist ACs they are, then:
Traditionalist Anglo-Catholics are in fact high-church Congregationalists.
The OM and even the LCs were very concerned with authority. Indeed, many in the OM were not even thurible swingin’ high-churchers. No. Time and again when you read the Tracts for the Times, you realize that the OM was concerned to establish that the C of E sat in proper sacramental, that is episcopal continuity with the church of the apostles and that it wouldn’t have mattered if they had been allowed a thousand parishes to fill with chant and incense. What mattered was whether or not they were practicing in the same church and with the same authority as the apostles. Additionally, this would have had to have been true of the entire C of E, and indeed when Newman and many others deemed that it wasn’t, they left for Roman Catholicism.
Similarly Bishop Gore spent an awful lot of time defending the catholicity of the C of E. Indeed he wrote an impressive and persuasive book on just that topic. (cf. Order and Unity)
Now, I usually situate myself within Anglo-Catholicism seeing a clear line from ABC Michael Ramsey to Rowan Williams to RadOx. I would then consider myself a “liberal (charismatic and evangelical) catholic” though not in the way that term is generally used today.
But my point isn’t really in this essay to establish my own perfect catholicity (I’m pretty sure there isn’t such a thing) but rather to show that if traditionalist ACs have so far suffered sacramental invalidity in their church they should never have been in the C of E to begin with. I wonder if they simply don’t get what it means to be ‘Catholics;’ whatever the case they have a long way to go before they can legitimately say that they stand in continuity with Anglo-Catholicism.
Strange Encounters of the Pentecostal Kind
July 3, 2010
So long as one is drudging themselves through the process of acquiring basic linguistic skills, fantasizing about future research projects can provide the necessary motivation to continue to drudge. I already have a running list of books and articles that I’m “going” to write and the other day I posted one of my ideas on Twitter and Facebook,
“Of Pilgrimage and Handkerchiefs: The Implicit Sacramental Ontology of Classical Pentecostalism”
Reactions hovered around amazement at my astute imagination. But our long time reader George P Wood asked the perennial question: “How does this move the missional ball down the Kingdom field?”
The funny thing is that I feel this has huge implications for missions and ecumenism. I realized that it maybe was time for me to clarify a bit more why I wish to continue to engage Pentecostalism and perhaps even hint at some of my own hopes future academic work. So here are a few of my persistent thoughts on Pentecostalism and what I hope to do about them.. I am more than aware that I might ‘accomplish’ little of this but I figure it’s more fun at least to plan big and trim as the situations require than stew in perpetual uncertainty like a fourth year sophmore who has changed majors six times.
For the sake of clarity I always attempt to differentiate between “Pentecostals” and “Charismatics” even if the difference is blurred. Consider it heuristic. Charismatics are those in Mainline, Catholic and other historic churches who experience(d) and promote(d) the “charismatic gifts and experiences” (thought of more narrowly as the type normally associated with “Pentecostals”) and Pentecostals are those Protestants who look to various ‘revivals’ which happened roughly a century ago for their roots. They are also generally differentiated by idiosynchratic eschtologies.
- It seems clear based on the unique rise and spread of Pentecostals that it is a work of the Spirit. If it is, then it is incumbent on the whole Church to ‘get on board’ with it, though with discernment. This is really just another way of saying that the charismatic gifts of the Spirit are for the whole Church.
- So I hope to work ecumenically with Pentecostals and encourage the use of the charismatic gifts in the wider Church.
- This engagement is hindered by several things:
- Pentecostals have historically been skeptical of ecumenism. They have been especially hostile to Catholics and Mainline Christians and have tended to feed this with an etiological narrative that sees in intellectualism and liberalism (among other things) a “fall” from the Spirit. So the “start” of Pentecostalism is seen as Gods judgment that the rest of the Church has failed and so is better ignored and left behind than looked to as partners and teachers. This has also borne fruit as anti-intellectualism, anti-institutionalism and anti-tradition.
- So part of what I want to do is demonstrate how under the surface of Pentecostal experience and practice there is a substantive overlap with Catholic Christian theology, experience and practice. By doing this I can help prepare the ground for fruitful dialogue between pentecostal and other churches as well as for cooperation in mission.
- On the other hand, despite initial flowering in various charismatic renewals, other churches still often remain skeptical of pentecostalism on the grounds that it is anti-intellectual, anti-institutional and anti-traditional and just plain ‘weird.’ So by speaking the historic theological language of the Church, I hope to show how the whole Church needs to be renewed by the Charismatic work of the Spirit.
- Additionally I’d like to explore the future of anglo-catholicism and argue that only a charismatic anglo-catholicism can de-clericalize the movement and renew a focus on missions and the sacraments.
- I’d also be interested in exploring the historic three-fold ministerial order, and ‘laws of ecclesiastical polity’ in general, with reference to the charismatic gifts.
- Similarly I’d like to look into the charismatic theology of the Eastern Orthodox because I’ve often found that their theology of the Spirit connects brilliantly with Pentecostal experience.
- I’ve got a million more of these.
- Another minor premise of mine that is rather disconnected to the points I’ve already made is that Pentecostals have done us all a disservice by selling their soul to buy street cred with Evangelicals. So even now Pentecostals need a Charismatic renewal! Especially with respect to how they read Scripture.
A basic underlying premise of all this is that Pentecostals are right in certain things and can enhance and be part of a larger renewing work of the Spirit who is reconciling all things to Christ, but in many things she is young and wrong and needs the whole Church to teach her.
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.
extra ecclesiam nulla salus?
January 29, 2010
As one reads and thinks one begins to get interested in particular rabbit holes in theology. Feeling called to Ecumenism, Ecclesiology is one such rabbit hole of mine.
I wish to propose some brief propositions that have swum around in my mind. I realize that they are not positions that the Church has traditionally agreed with but I’m trying to follow out some logic that stems from good Catholic theology. Mostly, I want to locate the Church. If one cannot do such, even if in a provisional way, it seems difficult to speak at all about it. Tell me what you think.
- I am, along with at least the RCC, a religious inclusivist. That is to say I trust that there will be many from different faiths who “find salvation.”
- Karl Rahner called these people “anonymous Christians”
- Catholicism is concerned with the locatability of the Church as opposed to Protestant spiritualizing and volunteer’izing of the Church.
- A “Christian” is someone who in faith is baptized into the Church and prayed over to receive the Holy Spirit
- A so-called “anonymous Christian” has not been baptized nor prayed over to receive the Spirit and even if their ‘faith’ is truly toward God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit it is not shaped in this way.
- If such a person can be “saved,” and if “there is no salvation outside of the Church,” then by this logic A) People can be “saved” without the Sacraments B) People can be part of the church without knowing it…
- There seems to be a tension to me. Now, if the Sacraments are necessary to become part of the Church (as I would argue), AND “there is no salvation outside of the church,” THEN “anonymous Christians” (or their souls?!) must be baptized post-mortem.
- This is just plain silly to me.
- Would it not make more sense to use the old dictum (was it Luther?): ”There is no salvation outside of Christ?”
- This would allow us to locate the Church, which is absolutely necessary for witness, fellowship, worship, evangelism, discipline, etc…
- AND it would allow us to remain religious inclusivists who acknowledge, no, Rejoice!, that God is at work in the whole world?
- This also makes sense of some otherwise puzzling passages in the New Testament
So how ’bout it? There is no salvation outside of Christ but there is outside of the Church?
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
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.
Tony Hunt
jstambaugh
Shawn Wamsley
