The famous dictum of the revered Lancelot Andrewes on the sources of Anglican theology goes like this: “One canon, two testaments, three creeds, four councils, and five centuries and the fathers who wrote therein.” Most modern Anglicans have encountered the first three—the last two we’re a bit sketchy on. Myself included. I’ve never had a course in Patristics and I’ve got not one but two seminary degrees. (Neither of them were Episcopal schools, for the record—but both schools also had Anglican Studies programs. Even those seemed to be light on what I would consider a decent Patristic foundation.) So—in light of this, where do you start if you’re an Anglican and want to start encountering the Fathers?

[An aside—yes, “Fathers” is male. Yes, the “Mothers” were important too—but we have very few writings from them. When we talk about early church practice it may well be best to say Mothers and Fathers but as for the texts that have survived and come down to us through centuries of male copyists—then “Fathers” is accurate despite what we might want to say. And don’t worry—I’ve provided for the Mothers below…]  

Here are my first thoughts towards a more-or-less organized plan of studying the writings from the first five centuries that ground both Christian theology and—potentially—Anglican identity. I’ve found these things helpful as I’ve stumbled around and tried to get a sense of things myself. I’ll warn you, this list reflects things I’m familiar with so is skewed towards the Monastic West. I’d love to see some other suggestions especially from those better read in the area than me…

Start with:

• John Cassian’s Institutes. This two part work gives first an overview of the lifestyle of Egyptian monastics, then teaches the grammar of the moral life—the eight vices and the virtues that overcome them.

Have on hand:

• John Cassian’s Conferences
• Jerome’s Letters

Read these two intermittently sprinkled through the rest of the reading, especially if you feel things getting kind of dry. Cassian’s Conferences should be read again and again and not necessarily in order—read what you need… Jerome’s letters are like spiritual cheese: they’re sharp, pungent, and give some great local flavor. That is, he often talks about the realities and details of life in the early church. Often his correspondents were women so here we get the best view I know of into how women lived and practiced Christianity during this time.(Here are your Mothers…)

Then go to:

• Augustine’s Enchiridion (Handbook on Faith, Hope, and Love)
• Cyril of Jerusalem’s Mystagogical Catechesis
• Ambrose’s On the Mysteries
• Vincent of Lerins’s Commonitory

Then branch out from there—especially to things like the sermons of Leo, Gregory, and Chrysostom. All of these things can be had for free from New Advent and CCEL.

Why these writings? Well, when you study literature or writings you have two options—read a survey about them, or read the works themselves. I don’t know a good introductory survey so here are the works themselves. Specifically, though, these works were intended by their authors to be introductory. Most of them are catechetical and therefore were addressed to regular Christians—often the newly baptized—not the religious professionals.

So—that’s my list. What are your thoughts?

This just in from ENS…

Alaska bishop named Canadian National Indigenous Bishop

MacDonald will remain assisting bishop in Navajoland

. . .

Mark L. MacDonald, the seventh Episcopal bishop of the Diocese of Alaska, hopes that his new ministry as the Anglican Church of Canada’s first National Indigenous Bishop will both transform the way people think about the church and move Anglicans into deeper communion with each other.

Archbishop Andrew Hutchison, Primate of the Anglican Church of Canada, announced his appointment of MacDonald at a news conference in the Church’s headquarters in Toronto January 4.

. . .

As well as crossing Canadian diocesan jurisdictions, MacDonald, in his new position, will straddle national and ecclesiastical boundaries as well. Although he has resigned as Bishop of Alaska, he is due to remain assisting bishop of Navajoland Area Mission with the Episcopal Church.

"It’s important to remember that we elect bishops for the church," Hutchison said at the news conference. "We don’t elect bishops for national jurisdictions."

I’m really confused now… An Episcopal bishop serving the Canadian Anglican Church? In my eyes this is a move by TEC to *legitimize* the odd bishoping practices of AMiA, CANA, TAC et al. If this is the way we are going to play the game, then what reason can we offer why Frs. Minns and Moyer shouldn’t be bishops in American dioceses? The only difference that I see is that the heads of both provinces are ok with this jurisdiction-straddling—but over all it doesn’t help the polity debates.

Musically, it’s a Garden of Arcane Delights kind of morning.

Liturgically, I’m wondering about canticles… M suggested—wisely—that periodically we do the Offices from Rite II just to maintain currency with that way of doing things. My basic principle is that when I do Rite I, I follow the rubrics as interpreted through the 1662 book; when I do Rite II, I follow the intentions of the editors of the ’79 book. Thus, for MP, I use the table in the Additional Directions section (I just can’t bring myself to use it for EP, though…).

Anyway, in reading through it the past few mornings, I’ve been wondering why we have the canticles that we do. As you recall, the original intention of MP is that it is Cranmer’s collation of the Night Office (Matins + Lauds) + Prime—so, the first three Hours. Matins on Sundays and feast days always ends with the Te Deum; Lauds always incorporates the Benedictus. Hence, these are the master canticles for MP. The 1662 rubrics direct the use of the Te Deum outside of penitential seasons for the first reading and the Benedictus daily. Thus, this is fully in line with the original intention. During penitential seasons, though, the Benedicite is utilized. Now—where did this come from? In the old system, an OT canticle was said daily at Lauds slipped in between the fourth and fifth (and final) psalm. The Benedicite was the canticle for Sundays. So, the canticles retained in the 1662 book for MP mirrored certain selected elements of Sunday practice.

To complicate things a little, there were, in the old system, two forms of the Lauds office—one for penitential days and one for non-penitential days. The Benedicite was (if I remember right) the Sunday canticle in the non-penitiential; the one in the penitential version was the Benedictus es. Flip to Rite I for a second…yep, there they are… So, even the ’79 book through the influence of earlier books retains the elements of the old system.

Now, the major difference between Rite II and all predecessor rites is the great multiplication of options. Clearly this appears in the canticle options. I understand the desire to include more biblical materials and I have no problem with that. But…why not go back to the original source? Why not bring in the canticles from  Lauds 1 and 2 in the old system? Hatchett (the main commentator on the ’79 book) gives no insight here.

I’m really not against liturgical change—but if we are going to change something and there’s a good historical precedent that accomplishes what we’re trying to do, why not use it?   

There’s been quite a lot of hullabaloo over on T19 about the omission of 6b from the Scripture reading (John 14:1-6a) from President Ford’s funeral. For the record, the President and his family selected all the readings…On a completely unrelated matter relating to my day job I googled the preacher and found the following from his blog about General Convention. Note in particular one of the bullets towards the end where he specifically affirms verse 6… All in all, he gives not a bad list.

I have four main objections that I will list moving from the least important to the most…

1. Many folk think that this is a good idea because it’s what Jesus did. See the post above—it’s not. The Seder liturgy as we know it does not date from the early first century period.
2. More often than not, doing a “Christian Seder” is disrespectful of Jewish beliefs. In essence, it can simply be an exercise in “playing Jewish” rather than attempt to honor and engage a related tradition; how would you like to hear about a Muslim “Easter Vigil”? I remember reading once—I can’t remember where—a statement by the rabbis on whether gentiles or outsiders can/should attend Jewish festivals. The answer was something to the effect of “If they have not mourned with us, neither should they rejoice with us.” In other words, if you’re going to do a Seder, why not also a Yom Kippur, or the fast commemorating the destruction of the Temple? Picking and choosing liturgical observances skews your sense of a tradition and what the celebration means (topic for later post: the modern insistence on the celebration of Sunday as a weekly remembrance of the Resurrection and the concomitant suppression of Friday as a weekly remembrance of the Passion. It seems to me you can’t/shouldn’t have one without the other…) The only way to do a Christian Seder with integrity is to do it in conjunction with a local synagogue. Their rabbis and leaders can make sure that the right things are taught/done/etc. LP—didn’t your former congregation do this? Even this, however, is problematic because I suggest that if the Jewish traditions and theology are properly honored, then—necessarily—the Christian ones are not.
3.  The point of a proper Jewish Seder (as I understand it and I’m open to correction if this is wrong) is the celebration of the Exodus. This is the Passover ritual. As a result, the meal remembers and celebrates the community’s salvation and liberation from Egypt and its formation as the freed people of God. What’s the point of Maundy Thursday, though? In the Christian tradition it serves as the first service of the Triduum—essentially a three day liturgy that begins on the evening of Maundy Thursday and that concludes with the first Mass of Easter. The celebration of the community’s liberation and salvation does not occur on Thursday for Christians, but Sunday. Some of the Easter Vigils that I’ve been to conclude with a big blow-out feast with a menu very reminiscent of a Seder; I think Anastasia’s church does/did this. That’s appropriate. But for us, a Thursday Seder celebration simply doesn’t work on the theological level. Consider for a second one of the major chronological differences between the gospels: the Synoptics (Matthew, Mark, Luke) have Jesus’ arrest after the Passover meal; John’s has it before so that the crucifixion coincides with the slaughtering of the Passover lambs. Historically, the Synoptics are probably right; theologically, John is.  
4. The practice of a Maundy Thursday Seder is symptomatic of a liturgical theology that I find very troubling because of its implications. It’s the notion of re-enactment. My students who advocated this practice were rather confused at my insistence that liturgy is not about re-enactment. Re-enactment suggests that we are trying to replicate something that happened in the past. The logic here is fundamentally historical—we are remembering a past event because the importance lies in the past. I was and am emphatic that liturgy is not about the past—it’s about the present and the future. We don’t re-enact, rather, we enact. We don’t celebrate the Eucharist because we are doing something from the past, but because in and through the Eucharist Christ is made truly and really present here and now in our very midst. While our celebration of Holy Week and Triduum is rooted in historical particularities, these particularities are not the principle focus. Rather, the present and future implications of those acts are what we experience and celebrate. Because Christ died, once for all time, we have been and are reconciled to the Father; because Christ rose, once for all time, we have the hope of resurrection and—indeed—experience foretastes of that resurrection even in our own flesh. These are not events that should be shoved into the past and re-enacted, but enacted and celebrated as breaking forth in our own time and place.