Category Archives: Anglican

Cafe Piece on Christ and Culture

I have a new piece up at the Cafe. I’ll be interested to see what kind of response it receives… Long-time readers here know my positions:

  • I don’t believe in an infallible church (where YF and I part ways) and thus the Church is responsible for remaining attentive to the Spirit and how the Gospel is working its way both in the church and in the culture (to the degree that these can be separated which is never completely as human institutions inevitably partake of the cultures in which they are embedded…)
  • I’m a firm believer in the ordination of women. I believe that, based on what I see in Scripture and what the tradition has taught on the nature of the Spirit, neither the presence or absence of a penis has anything to do with how the Holy Spirit is able to work through an individual for the up-building of the greater community.
  • I strongly believe that Christian morality is rooted in a virtue-based character ethic. That’s what I see in the New Testament—I see all of Paul’s arguments pointing that way and this is, in particular, his understanding of the now-abrogated Mosaic Law. This is also how significant strands of historic Christian thought—especially the western monastic ones—understood these texts. On the basis of that, I believe that clergy have a responsibility to model chastity to their communities in their household/family relationships. And that goes for M and myself as much as it does for anyone else. Gay and straight Christians all have a responsibility to demonstrate faithful love; of course it’s not easy—but it still has to be done.
  • In some ways our current American culture is moving in these directions as well—promoting equality for women and a wider acceptance of non-heterosexual relationships; there are things that the church has to and needs to learn from the culture about the nature of the Gospel. But it is just as certain that there are movements in the culture that directly contradict the Gospel and that, particularly in the realm of human sexuality, go against a Gospel-rooted virtue-based character ethic. The church doesn’t need to learn or teach these. Just because the church and culture agree on points doesn’t mean we agree in all points or—and this is key—agree for the same reason.
  • It frustrates me when I see public figures in the church not sufficiently distinguishing cultural movement from Gospel movement. There’s no doubt that our leadership is liberal and it moves along with the more liberal elements of the culture. But we must not elide the Gospel with the culture especially where there is insufficient overlap.
  • On the contrary side, it frustrates me when I hear conservatives talking about Gospel values and biblical models and the paradigms that they espouse are right out of white-bread 1950’s Americana. Yes, it’s what you may have been raised in but that doesn’t mean it fulfills the Gospel more purely than the current state of things.

Turning of the Seasons

So, the seasons are definitely changing.

School has started, activities are ramping up for the girls, the air during morning walks to school with G has become more crisp.

Football season has started. I’ve never really paid much attention to this one before but living a few streets away from a major football stadium has brought it to my attention in a whole new way and greatly complicates both errands and parking.

The program year at church is also ramping up. I’ve been asked to serve as assistant director of altar guild and there are plans in the works for some Christian Ed work as well—we’re going to start a Sunday morning spiritual formation program for adults as well as children; I’m just trying to figure a way that it doesn’t conflict with choir for those who want to do both.

Solemn High Mass season started too. We did the Solemnity of the Holy Cross as our big kick-off event on Sunday so I was in my tunicle and Lil’ G was boat-girl. Things went well, God was duly worshiped, and the congregation edified in Word and Sacrament. Expect more postings that relate to the altar guild matters as I’ve found a number of the classic manuals for cheap through Amazon and perusing those will probably spark posting topics. I’ve also broken down and ordered a copy of Fortescue; Smokey Mary’s is what I consider a Novus Ordo Anglo-Catholic place, St George’s was straight-up Ritual Notes, so I’ve never needed Fortescue. From what I’m discovering about the Bal’mer Missal tradition, it’s much more heavily Fortescue than Ritual Notes.

Conference Watch: American Sarum

This is one of those items that entered my in-box at the height of the moving trauma; I shelved it with an intention to get back to it later.

Later has arrived.

There’s a conference slated for January 14th through the 17th in Bronxville, New York entitled American Sarum. As the name suggests, it’s a conference dedicated to the exploration of an American form of the English Use. For those fuzzy on this particular liturgical tradition, I’ll lay out what little I know of it—and welcome correction from the better informed.

The English Use is predominately the brain-child of Percy Dearmer (affectionately referred to as the Blessed Percy). The Blessed Percy was not himself a research scholar but was a well-read popularizer of the work of Frere, Palmer, and that whole body of scholars who investigated medieval English liturgy at the end of the nineteenth century and published works for the Alcuin Club, the Henry Bradshaw Society, and the Plainsong & Medieval Music Society.

The main thought here was this: if Anglican rites need new ceremonial and liturgical blood—and the one-two punch of the Oxford and Cambridge Movements (particularly the latter) convinced many they did—then why ape contemporary Roman Catholic ways? Why not return to the traditions and uses of the pre-Reformation English Church centered in the Sarum liturgy?

Blessed Percy set out to present a ceremonial and liturgy guide to Sarum enhancements for the Prayer Book (as he was English this, of course, means the 1662 BCP). The chief vehicle for this concept was the Parson’s Handbook which attracted a certain following in its day. This style of Sarum enrichment came to be known as the English Use. It was also sometimes known as English Museum Use and, indeed, the main criticism leveled at it was that it was fundamentally an antiquarian’s head-trip; that is, it was created de novo from old liturgical documents and did not reflect a living tradition. Instead, it was a romanticized version of a High Medieval mass with the BCP standing in for the text; how and if it spoke to its new time and place was a different story.

For whatever reason, it pretty much remained the English Use and didn’t cross the pond much. There are a few churches in America that use a form of the English/Sarum Use: one is Christ Church, Bronxville where the conference is being held, another is St John’s in the Village in my neck of the woods (and where I can be found when I’m not at the Advent).

The American Sarum conference seeks to reopen the old questions:

In an age when it is increasingly difficult to define what it means to be Anglican and many Anglicans look to Rome for answers, this conference will take a good look at the origins of our liturgical and musical Anglican heritage and dare to redefine what it means to be an Anglican. The conference will include a hard look at our history from architectural, liturgical, and musical perspectives. Discussions and re-creations of early liturgical practices will provide liturgical and musical insights that are intrinsically English and completely relevant to the liturgies of the 21st century. It is not a matter of “putting the Anglo back in Anglo-Catholic.” Those who will benefit from this experience include all musicians and clergy that identify as Anglo-Catholic, but it will be of particular interest and use to those who do not identify themselves as Anglo-Catholic. This is a conference for everyone, regardless of one’s own “high” or “low” churchmanship, who loves and respects our common Anglican heritage.

The presenters include some top-notch names like Dr. John Harper—yes, that Dr. John Harper—as well as some friends of mine. I showed M the provisional  schedule and we quickly agreed that we have to go.

Whatever you think of the English/Sarum Use—and to be honest I haven’t made up my mind—it will be an opportunity to think through some of the old important questions with some new voices at the table: What does it mean to be Anglican? What place do history and heritage hold in our modern proclamation of the Gospel? Do I prefer apparels or lace on my albs and amices?

Sermon on Colossians 1: A Word to the Fashionable Modalists

M gave me permission to post this up; it’s what she preached this past Sunday. I wondered if it might rustle some feathers in the congregation but apparently she got quite a lot of feedback—all of it overwhelmingly positive. So, without further ado:

When my elder daughter, G., was about three or four she came home one day from pre-school and in her usual manner told me all about her day. She began to tell this vivid story of her new friend Vava. I thought his name was a little unusual, but then she told me that he was Hindu and I realized that this was a name from India that I had never heard before. Day after day I heard all about Vava and one day she informed me that Vava was coming over to visit before he moved. Sure, I told her. I’ll get his phone number tomorrow when I drop you off at school. “No, Mom” she said. “You can’t do that.” Puzzled I asked her why? She said in all seriousness, “Mom, Vava isn’t real—you can’t see him.”

As it turned out, Vava was one of G.’s imaginary friends. For several years we heard quite a lot about Vava and his female companion Doodoo, who they were visiting and what they were up to. Our younger daughter, H., made friends with them as well, and kept them company once G. went off to kindergarten.

What we eventually figured out, though, is that Vava was only partly an imaginary friend. Indeed, it might be more accurate to say that Vava was actually an invisible friend. Bit by bit, my husband and I began to realize that Vava was modeled quite closely after one of G.’s real-life friends, and Indian boy named R.. Many of the characteristics and hobbies that we thought G. had made up Vava were entirely real about R.. When we actually met the real boy R. at a birthday party, I felt like I already knew him because I’d lived so long with Vava. The real boy taught us about the imaginary friend, and, in turn, the invisible friend taught us about the real boy.

Paul’s language in Colossians this morning reminded me of Vava, and I couldn’t help thinking about him and about R. this week. Paul says in particular that Jesus is the very image of the invisible God. And that interplay between Vava and R. came to mind hearing Paul discuss the interplay between who Jesus is and who God is, and about what we learn about God by looking at Jesus.

This passage from Colossians is one of the most beautiful pieces of poetry in the New Testament. Indeed, this passage is often referred to as one of the earliest Christian hymns. Now, we don’t know if anyone actually sang it or if it was used in early church gatherings outside of where we find it in this letter, but its language is rich and evocative and beautiful. Sometimes with language this beautiful, I give in to the temptation to just let it wash over me and to enjoy the experience of hearing it without trying to fully understand it. And yet—this is worth the trouble to understand.

It’s not uncommon these days in the Episcopal Church to hear people using the phrase “Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer” when they are talking about the Trinity or even to hear some clergy start services or sermons with an invocation “in the name of the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer.” I don’t do that and I won’t do that because I think it’s confusing and, without quite a lot of clarification, it gives people a set of wrong ideas about God.

In one sense, the basic formula is absolutely right: The Trinity does act together as the world’s creator, redeemer, and sustainer. But—that’s rarely how the formula comes across. Instead, too many of the people I know use it as a kind of shorthand or substitute. They have become very sensitive to the use of too much male language and so they don’t want to use too much. As a result, they get the sense that instead of saying “Father, Son, and Holy Spirit” that it’s perfectly ok to say “Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer.” And it’s not.

The problem isn’t so much the formula, rather it’s how they use it and how we hear it. It’s really easy to hear this phrase and to think “oh—I see: Creator = Father, Redeemer = Jesus, and Sustainer = the Holy Spirit.” And that’s not right. And one of the reasons that’s not right is what the poetry from Colossians tells us this morning. Jesus is the very image of the invisible God. In him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell. Or, as John’s Gospel records Jesus saying, if you have seen me, you have seen the Father.

The real problem with the formula is the way that it limits our understanding of who God is and how God acts. One of Paul’s key points today is how Jesus is the great linch-pin of Creation: “All things have been created in him and for him.” Paul is reminding us—hey, Jesus is “Creator” too! But then he goes right on to say, “in him all things hold together.” Paul is reminding us—hey, Jesus is “Sustainer” too! And let me tell you today that all of this is Good News. Why? Because what Paul is telling us here is that Jesus is the very image of the invisible God—we learn about the invisible God from the God who took flesh. We learn about the God whom we cannot see who blows around us at this moment from the one whom, as 1 John starts out: we have seen with our own eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our own hands, concerning the Word of Life. Paul reminds us in this beautiful New Testament hymn that Jesus himself is simultaneously the Creator, the Redeemer, and the Sustainer. And indeed, he shows us what is revealed elsewhere: God the Father is the Creator, yes, but as the God who freed Israel from Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm is a redeemer and as he fed the Children of Israel with quail and manna in the desert was Sustainer as well. The Holy Spirit who sustains us is the same Spirit who laid the foundation stones of Creation and who redeems us in water and Spirit when we are washed in the holy waters of baptism.

So here’s Paul’s point—and it ends up having a really practical purpose: Jesus is the very image of the invisible God. If we want to learn about God, the first and best way to do it is to look at Jesus. It is to consider Christ. And now we’ll use just two points to make this practical.

First, when we look at Jesus, when we look at what he said and what he did, we see love, the reconciling love of God who calls us back to the riches of the glory of the mystery of God. The love of God revealed in Christ is so deep that God is willing to go to the cross for us. The love of God revealed in Christ is so powerful that not even the cross can end it, for God’s love breaks the bonds of death.

Second—our second point takes us back to invisible friends. Sometimes those whom we cannot see teach us about those whom we can. And, vice-versa, sometimes those whom we can see teach us about those whom we cannot. We cannot see God the Father or God the Spirit with our eyes of flesh. And, even though the apostles could, we can no longer see Jesus with our eyes either. So how do we learn about those whom we cannot see? Well—we look at the parts that we can see. In our liturgy we proclaim that each of us is baptized into the Body of Christ. We become part of his body. When we gather together at the altar for Eucharist, we feed on the Body of Christ. The Body becomes a literal, physical part of us. Now, in these latter days, we cannot see Jesus. Unless, of course, we stop and look around the room…

One of the great monastic teachers, John Cassian, wrote over fifteen centuries ago about how his monks were supposed to learn about virtue. They were to look to the elder monks and find those whose lives were worthy of being imitated. But no one person has all of the virtues. Instead, Cassian counsels that we look for the good, we look for the virtues, in each person around us. In one we will find wisdom, in another humility, in another righteous action, in yet another compassion. These virtues, Cassian tells us, are nothing less than Christ distributed amongst his people. It is only when we come together in unity and in faith that we bring together the whole Christ of whom we are members.

How do we know the invisible God? Well—by looking at who we are when we are at our best together. This church can be a true model of who God is. We can ourselves be an image of the invisible God when we, as a whole, show forth the love that Christ commands of us. Furthermore—Christ is the linch-pin. He is what holds us all together.

The world that we live in is so broken and fragmented, but this Colossians passage gives us hope. We are told, “and in him all things hold together.” If we look through the eyes of faith, though, we see that it is Christ’s love that is holding everything together. It ought to encourage us rather than depress us, inspire us instead of making us do nothing—so I leave you with one task this coming week. See if you can figure out how Christ’s arms embrace the world today in your own life and in the life of the church—and how we, in our actions, can continue to extend his arms in love.

The Church as the Interpreter of Scripture

I commend to all Fr. Haller’s thoughtful reflection on Scripture and its interpretation.

I have quite a lot to say on this topic that I cannot write now. Thus, let me leave you with just a few teaser thoughts:

  • The point of the Christian faith as I understand it is to participate within the community of those invited into the interior life of the Triune God. As a result, one of the key factors here is relationships. We as individuals are in a relationship with God and are also in a relationship with a community. The Scriptures are one record of one part of that relationship and the community as a whole has privileged them as an essential and sufficient record. A record is not a relationship, however.
  • At the root of the faith is the relationship between God and “his people”–variously identified as those God has called into relationship with himself. As a result, history itself is a key factor. However, we have no access to the history. We have a written record which means that what is normative amongst us is a document which describes, among other things, history which reveals the on-going character of the relationship between God and his people. A document, while it may be historical, is not a direct window into history.
  • I think it’s important to constantly remind ourselves what Scripture says about itself in one of its most beleaguered and put-upon sets of verses: 2 Timothy 3:14-17  “But as for you, continue in what you have learned and have firmly believed, knowing from whom you learned it  15 and how from childhood you have been acquainted with the sacred writings which are able to instruct you for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus.  16 All scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness,  17 that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work.” Hmmm. From this one might suspect that the purpose of the Scriptures is to reveal the character of the relationship between God and humanity and from there to direct what character a Christian ought to be forming.  And that seems to me to be both quite a bit more and quite a bit less than what others often use these verses to claim.

American Company of Servers?

I’ve started any number of times to write a post on this topic and they keep self-destructing after having gone on for far too long about far too little. So—I’ll get right to the point, then.

In the UK, the Society of Catholic Priests is twinned with a lay group—the Company of Servers.

The point of this group is that it teaches the laity who serve at altars and in chancels the practicalities, theology, and spirituality of service in the sanctuary.

In brief, I’m very much for it in the same way and for the same reasons that I’m for the Society of Catholic Priests. In brief:

  • Anglo-Catholicism has always had an issue with idiosyncrasy. Area-wide groups where people come together to learn can help smooth out parish level idiosyncrasies by means of a common practice.
  • Too many times, rectors jerk parishes around especially on the liturgical level. Just because the rector is having a particular spiritual journey doesn’t necessarily mean that the congregation wants to go along. I keep insisting that liturgy in any given place is the theology of the gathered community made kinetic. That doesn’t mean it’s something a rector gets to impose. Instead, a wise priest will determine the operative theologies in a parish and respond to those. A group like this helps laity articulate together what their theology is and, as a result, what sort of worship should result.
  • Sometimes, for a wide variety of reasons, Anglo-Catholics or other forms of “high” Anglicans get stuck in broad to low parishes. Wouldn’t it be nice if a local chapter of the Company of Servers could meet for the BCP-appointed Holy Days and offer a full-on reverent Mass (with the assistance of a like-minded priest) in order to retain the practice and spirituality even if stuck in a parish without it?
  • It’s rooted primarily in practice—what we do together—which seems to me a far more productive ground and purpose than meeting around theology which can get quite fraught especially when we start up the games of “More Catholic Than Thou.”

What do you think—can/could this model get transplanted here? What kind of organizational tweaks might be necessary to deal with the North American situation?

New Breviary Upgrade is Here

The latest version of the St Bede’s Breviary is now up. This new release includes a number of features that people have been requesting:

  • cookie support—if you go to the “Preferences” page, you can now save your Office-praying options and they will stay set whenever you return to the site.
  • additional sanctoral kalendars—In addition to the kalendars as printed in the ’79 BCP and the extended Holy Women Holy Men, it also includes the Church of England’s Exciting Holiness, the current Roman Catholic kalendar, the ordines of the Order of the Holy Cross and the Order of Julian of Norwich, and the kalendars from the Anglican and English Missals.
  • improved aesthetics—including a layout which functions for handheld devices; I’ve been praying the Offices via Blackberry with it
  • additional information on the sources of the material
  • some brief catechetical material included in the preferences page.

Quite a lot has also changed under the hood in the way that it calculates dates, but—hopefully—no one but me will know that…

It’s still in beta, so I’m not promising that it’s bug-free, but this does represent a big step forward towards the goal I’m trying to fully realize here.

As always, it’s your breviary as much as it is mine, please feel free to send in thoughts, questions, comments, and new feature requests. As to the latter, I’ll let you know that the NRSV readings are in the works as is a build-out to include the Prayers and Thanksgivings on BCP pp. 810-841.

On Picking Prelates

The slate of candidates for the next Bishop of Springfield has been announced and what a large field it is—14 nominees in all. With a field that large it’s no surprise that there are some familiar names; one is even a commenter here.

I clicked into the responses for several of them; I appreciated that the one of the questions that nominees had to answer queried them about their personal Rule of Life. Bishops are, in theory, at the spiritual center of the dioceses. Yes, I imagine you’d want a capable administrator, but I’d very much want a person of prayer as well, especially one grounded in our Anglican tradition. I saw one commonality in their responses, that I’d like to lift up.

I had no idea that so many senior clergy have such a steadfast devotion to the Daily Office.

Because, in all honesty, I fail to see signs of it in our church at large.

Indeed, I’d think that if such a large sampling of senior clergy showed so many so devoted to it, there would be more evidence of it in the parishes and in the dioceses where they serve now. But there’s not.

With such a wonderful opportunity, though, to inquire of regular users of it, if I were at the walk-abouts, I’d have one question for each of the nominees: “So, in light of your Rule of Life, I was wondering if you could tell us what canticles you like to use on Wednesday mornings, and why?”

Come to think of it, it’s a question I wouldn’t mind putting to the whole House of Bishops…

Kalendars and Ecclesiologies

As part of the forthcoming upgrade to the breviary, I’ve been tinkering with the way that I generate my liturgical dates. I did have a system where I had to sit down and figure everything out for each year for each kalendar. Needless to say, this took a fair amount of time and caused a certain amount of duplicated work (which programmers hate).

I’m moving to a rule-based system that determines the temporal date, checks for major BCP occasions, then adds in any Days of Optional Observance based on the preferred kalendar. In order to make the magic happen, I’ve been sorting through a whole bunch of liturgical kalendars:

  • the BCP
  • Holy Women, Holy Men
  • the current Roman system
  • the Order of the Holy Cross
  • the Order of Julian of Norwich
  • Exciting Holiness (the CoE’s)
  • the Knott/English Missal
  • the Anglican Missal (functionally the Roman ’62)

All told, this makes 806 liturgical observances.

There are a lot of overlaps between the kalendars (i.e., some observances are celebrated in all 8, many are in at least 3 or 4), nor does this reflect the number of saints within these various kalendars (given that some observances celebrate no one—like days within the octave of the Nativity—and some celebrate several—like the feast of Basilides, Cyrinus, Nabor, and Nazarius or, a personal favorite, Ursula and the 11,000 virgins…)

Having all of this data collected in one table opens up all sorts of interesting possibilities for looking at it and reflecting on it. While I haven’t even begun to do that, some very general observations do come to mind:

  • The people we pray with and about have an awful lot to do with how we construct our own mental ecclesiology. If one of the things that a sanctorale does is to remind us of who all is contained in the communion of the saints, then different kalendars end up giving us very different answers and, as a result, sketch different pictures of who the church is.
  • Holy Women, Holy Men—which I’ve bashed many times in the past for a variety of offenses—takes on a new light when placed in relation to the Exciting Holiness, the ordo of the OHC (particularly the one in the monastic breviary that clearly predates HWHM), and the Knott Missal. This doesn’t necessarily mean that this new light becomes a favorable light, but adding in these relationships does help me see where some of the commemorations are coming from and why they are placed on the dates that they are.
  • That having been said, a very interesting diagram could be made mapping two different axes, the genetic relationships and theological intentions of the kalendars. Of course, two more kalendars would have to be added in first: a “pure” pre-conciliar kalendar, most likely the Pius X revision, and the Sarum kalendar…
  • The one major factor that immediately comes to my mind is the place of the martyrs. Within the big list, 213 of the 806 observances are of martyrs (26%). When we parse individual kalendars or groups of kalendars distinct patterns emerge. The highest martyr count goes without a doubt to the Anglican Missal and this is not solely due to theological grounds but rests partly on logistical grounds: this kalendar is one of few that includes commemorations and thus can—and does—have multiple observances within a single calendar day. (Which , yes, is in and of itself a theological decision…) That having been said, of the Anglican Missal’s 339 discrete liturgical observances, 138 are of martyrs (41%). By way of comparison, of Holy Women, Holy Men’s 272 discrete observances, only 39 are identified as being occasions celebrating martyrs (14%). One factor here is chronological—on the balance, HWHM has more observances from and relating to the modern era than the AM (no firm breakdown on this yet, but that can be obtained…) and thus far fewer individuals from the era of Roman persecution, but this sends a major theological and ecclesiological message.  The church sketched by the Anglican Missal is a church composed in large part by those who died rather than alter their faith. However, the church sketched by Holy Women, Holy Men with both its lack of early martyrs and its many modern entries sketches a church made up of more “ordinary” people in “regular” (to us) contexts embodying their faith.
  • There’s quite a lot more to be said here in relation to these few issues that I’ve raised and the additional material contained within this data. I’m thinking a decent-sized journal article could easily come out of all of this…