My next piece on Communion Without Baptism is up at the Cafe. I doubt there wil be many surprises there for those who have been following the current discussions.
Category Archives: Theology
Yet More on CWOB
To recap briefly, we’ve been discussing Communion Without Baptism quite a bit lately. One of the main engines of debate has been the Anglican Scotist’s attempts to connect CWOB with universal salvation and to argue that if we take our beliefs about the power of God to their logical conclusion the theological reasons for CWOB will become self-evident. It’s an intriguing argument but not one that wins me over–universal salvation being the first major stumbling block.
My main objection to the argument of the Scotist is that it comes in the form of syllogisms. While I do recognize the need for such things and acknowledge their proper place in theological reflection, logical syllogisms in their use of absolutes and extremes tend to wander away from the basic incarnate character of the life of faith. To my mind, they too easily enter the realm of speculation divorced from discipleship.And here, of course, I see one of the classic divisions between the Scholastic and the monastic.
Both Caelius and *Christopher have written great reflections that return the discussion from questions of universality and omnipotence to questions of daily Christian practice. *Christopher’s piece engages the Scotist’s invocation of the Eschaton and makes a distinction between the regular and extraordinary means of grace, paying special attention to their roles in communities of practice. Caelius’s piece touches on a range of issues, moving from an interesting discussion of the Eucharistic meal as a plunder-dividing party to a thoughtful reflection on exclusion and intimacy. If you haven’t already read them, I commend them to you highly.
More on CWOB
A new entry on the current CWOB (Communion Without Baptism) discussion so ably chronicled by bls (plus updated addenda of course…) has appeared this morning at the Episcopal Cafe.
Dr. Deirdre Good from GTS has posted a most thought-provoking work on hospitality. This is, of course, a virtue constantly emphasized in Benedict’s Rule that reminds us that love of neighbor is only realized when enacted–especially as we greet Christ in the person of the stranger. In this reflection, Dr. Good presents the open table as a central practice of Christian hospitality.
I like her reflection–but I’m not ultimately convinced. The Eucharist is not just a meal–it is a ritual meal. Christians believe that there is something categorically different between eating this bread and drinking this wine and eating other bread, drinking other wine. A non-Christian would presumably not agree. As Anglicans we believe that Christ is truly present in this meal in a way not found in others. I’m feeling something around this that I can’t articulate with the precision I’d like yet–but it’s something like this: If we believe that Christ is really present do we take the presence of divinity so lightly? So much so that we do not even warn those who are about to take it into their own bodies? Is this a domestication of divinity–an assumption of safety–that attempts to collapse an encounter with the Wholly Other?
The CWOB Position
After looking at the comments both here and at the Cafe, I’ve come to the realization that most defenders of CWOB wouldn’t really see that piece as a criticism of the practice. Indeed, some may well be wondering what the one has to do with the other. As far as I’m concerned, that goes to show how different the starting places may be between those who stand for and against CWOB. Annie’s comments below have been helping me get a better sense of where that position is invested. What I will try to do in this post is to sketch a fairly accurate picture of what the supporters of CWOB hold in regard to this specific topic. So, let’s be clear on a few things–I don’t hold this position; my starting place is what I wrote in the Cafe piece–a fairly traditional catholic sacramental mysticism. On the other hand, I also don’t want to caricature this position either–if this is to be a real discussion then building up straw men to tear down completely defeats the purpose. Thus, I’m trying to understand what would motivate a thoughtful Episcopalian to hold CWOB and what theological premises might underlie that–whether consciously or not.
I think that the starting place for the position is (1) a conviction that the church and it’s clergy have no business serving as gate-keepers that keep seekers away from God’s mercy and grace.
Based on this premise, they (2) see an insistence on Baptism as a hindrance keeping a seeker who has been touched by the Spirit in a service from immediately coming forward and partaking in God’s grace through the Sacrament of the Altar.
As they see it, then, (3) an insistence on Baptism is a new form of legalism that keeps people from seeking and finding God.
Update: The main biblical warrant that they use is (4) the notion of the eschatological banquet, most clearly put forth in the middle verses of Isa 25. From there, (5) they point to the feeding miracles of Jesus regarding them [correctly in my book…] as (a) connected to the eschatological banquet and (b) eucharistic in nature. Because Jesus feeds all who come to him without regard for their status, (6) it is concluded that we should do likewise. Thus, (7) if Jesus is the host of our eucharistic feasts then–like him–we should invite all without regard to the table.
Are these seven premises accurate construals of the position held by CWOB supporters?
Communion Without Baptism Discussion
My latest post is up at the Episcopal Cafe. It takes on the issue of Communion without Baptism. I feel strongly that this is a critical issue for the church to discuss. Thus–if you feel comfortable revealing your name per the Epoiscopal Cafe’s policy, please comment there; if you do not, then feel free to have the conversation here pseudonymously.
I won’t be around much today, regretably, but y’all know the protocol here: comment as you like, feel free to disagree, just be respectful to one another…
A Must-Read Post from Caelius
I commend for your immediate perusal and digestion the latest post by Caelius. In it, he ponders a number of truly important things.
It’s not just about youth in church and confirmation, more importantly he is fussing with the key question of what we are teaching our children and how do we do it. And, based on his experience at his current parish, he reveals the danger at the heart of an intemperate social gospel built on the fantasies of the Jesus Seminar and like groups: transformation of life does not occur because a person has affinities for the teaching of a nice guy who died in a political accident a few thousand years ago. Rather, transformation happens when a person encounters the resurrection power of the Living Christ. This the Christ we proclaim in every Office and every Mass, whom we take into ourselves in every Eucharist.
I’m all for being reasonable.
I’m all for being critical and reflective.
But when our reason and our reflection denies the clear evidence of the movement and power of the God present in our lives, that’s when we have some serious problems…
On the Trinity
Blessed Feast of the Holy Trinity to you all! In celebration of this occasion, I’ll point you to one of my favorite posts of the past, Revelations of Divine Algebra.
I’ll note that despite the great suggestions in the comments by Annie, *Christopher, Marshall+ and others, I haven’t had the chance to alter the content, so take their thoughts into consideration as well.
“Traditional” Office Hymns
One of my favorite words that gets thrown around–“traditional”–is inherently slippery… “Traditional” for whom? When is the ideal time when something stops and starts being traditional?
The notion of tradition is always a contemporary construct–an idea of how we view things and privilege things that appeared and/or happened in the past. There was discussion on Ship of Fools about whether the “Traditional Office Hymns” in my “traditional Anglo-Catholic” ordo were, in fact traditional. It’s a perfectly fair question and my response is that the list I give matches the list in the first edition of Ritual Notes supplemented and checked with the Anglican Breviary meaning that the list stands firmly documented within Anglo-Catholic tradition.
On the other hand…
Here’s another list:
From Nov 1 Matins: Primo dierum | Lauds: Aeterne rerum | Vespers: Lucis Creator (Sunday, O lux beata) | Compline: Christe qui lux es
Advent Matins: Verbum Supernum | Lauds: Vox clara | Vespers: Conditor alme siderum
Christmas Matins: A Patre unigenitus | Lauds: A solis ortus cardine | Vespers: Christe redemptor omnium
Epiphany Matins: A Patre unigenitus | Lauds: Iesus refulsit omnium | Vespers: Hostis Herodes impie
LXX Matins: Alleluia piis edite laudibus | Lauds: Almum sidereae iam patriae decus | Vespers: Alleluia dulce carmen
Lent Matins: Clarum deus ieiunii | Lauds: Iesu quadragenariae | Vespers: Audi benigne conditor
Passiontide Matins: Arbora decora | Lauds: Auctor salutis | Vespers: Vexilla Regis
Easter Matins: Iesu nostra redemptio | Lauds: Aurora lucis rutilat | Vespers: Ad cenam Agni prouidi
After Asc Matins: Optatus votis omnium | Lauds: Aeterne rex altissime | Vespers: Hymnum canamus gloriae
Pentecost Matins: Veni creator Spiritus | Lauds: Beata nobis gaudia | Vespers: Iam Christus astra ascenderat
Until Nov 1 Matins: Nocte surgentes | Lauds: Ecce iam noctis | Vespers: Deus creator omnium (Sunday, Lucis creator) | Compline: Te lucis ante terminum
There are a number of commonalities between this list and the other, the chief difference being static hymnody through the week in Ordinary time in this listing… But there are other differences as well. This list comes straight from a 10th century English Benedictine customary (Ælfric’s LME for the OE folk in the crowd)–so it’s pretty darn “traditional” too. But which is more traditional? How do we adjudicate?
If we push it further, though, we find that this isn’t even “the” Office Hymn cycle for 10th century English Benedictines. Rather, there were two different hymnal types in circulation, the Winchester-Worcester type and the Canterbury type, that reflect how continental influences shaped local practice during the Benedictine Revival (the 10th c. rebirth of monasticism in England after the Viking depredations of the previous centuries). This present list, while an important witness of actual(?) use, isn’t even a “pure” form of the Winchester-Worcester type. Furthermore, how we even define “pure” is up in the air–do we consider “pure” to be what is in the majority of the sources that have survived? And if so–we need to consider how representative the books are that have survived…
“Traditional” is simple until you start pushing on it and defining it;”tradition” is one of those things that becomes fuzzier the more you look at it.
Tradition isn’t a static thing and it isn’t a single thing. As any medievalist will tell you, there isn’t a common “medieval” anything. Rather, we can only talk about what certain texts represent about what was happening in certain places at certain times (…and discussions will ensue about whether any of it actually happened as it was represented…). Much of what appears as Anglo-Catholic tradition is a Victorian adjudication about what is properly medieval in light of their construct of the high medieval period as an English golden age. (Which is why the contemporaneous pre-Raphaelite paintings of the Arthurian cycle have the 5th century characters in 14/15th century accoutrements…)
Thoughtful discernment is key here. The answer on the Office Hymns is clearly that both lists—the Anglo-Catholic (presumably Tridentine) one and Ælfric’s one—have a place in the tradition. The one we choose positions us in relation to that tradition. Personally, I like Ælfric’s because it has more static elements and thus fits the peculiarities of my current Office practice. Too, it aligns me with the English Benedictine pre-Scholastic practice which I think most fully and properly illuminates the Anglican way. At the same time, I recognize that it falls outside of what is “traditional” for classic Victorian-inspired (heavily Scholastic) Anglo-Catholicism.
I guess if there’s a note I want to end on, it’s this: “tradition” often gets used in churchy circles as a rhetorical blunt instrument meant to end discussions. It doesn’t have to be. Tradition can also be a way of understanding the fullness of what we have received and understanding how adjudicating among the manifold options makes a difference for how we understand ourselves, our faith, and our practices of faith now.
On Common Prayer: A Modest Proposal
I want to ponder both the possibilities and limitations of common prayer as we head deeper into this new century. There’s no doubt that things are changing. For decades Christian denominations have positioned themselves in relationship to one another primarily through their responses to modernism. Thus, there was a great shift in the in the late 19th and early 20th centuries with the rise of fundamentalism as an approach to the social changes caused by advances in science and technology. There was another in the 1970’s as Rome clarified the stance of Vatican I and placed new accents upon the traditional faith in doctrine and liturgy which caused ripples throughout the Protestant Mainlines.
These ripples of Vatican II were both a continuing response but also the harbingers of new change. As we—forty years later—are still making sense of the reforms and their implementations, the world order is changing and the ripples are encountering new shoals. We are on the cusp of another major shake-up, no longer a response to modernism but postmodernism. In a sense the current problems are related to the rapprochement of the preceding decades. We have started talking to one another, to fields of science, and the humanities—and have found new questions and problems. New generations arise: the digital youth. Old ways are passing, new ones are struggling to be born.
As denominations shift and change in this new world, so our ways of relating to one another must change. The old ways are no longer tenable. Old patterns of ecumenism are based on bilateral conversations between small groups in rooms searching for common ground. Thus, I, a smoked-up-solemn-high-mass right-on-the-edge-of-transubstantiation Anglican, find myself in eucharistic fellowship with Moravians and the UCC thanks to shared agreements mediated by the ELCA. Don’t get me wrong—I have nothing against Moravians or the UCC, but some pretty serious differences exist in our sacramental theologies. If Christian witness is rooted in truth and
integrity—do these arrangements tell the truth about who and what these Christian communities are and what they believe?
I’d like to reframe what we’re about in terms of ecumenism. It’s one thing if we’re talking to one another—that is, if the point is the talk and the concepts therein. It’s another entirely if we’re talking about what we do—the practices that we engage in together. If the point of our unity is what we do, then why is ecumenical discussion so focused on thoughts and not actions? In short, my proposal for a new ecumenical direction in the new emerging order is shared action—common prayer: an Ecumenical Use.
The centerpiece of future ecumenical relationships between the Episcopal Church and other ecclesial bodies would rest not in conversations but in a liturgy, the Ecumenical Use. Much of it would be fairly rudimentary—a basic ordo that would lay out a flow of
service from Word to table—but it would also include a stripped-down eucharistic canon, something between the current eucharistic prayers A and D, that would seek to honor both Eastern and Western roots while retaining its Anglican heritage (like a double epiclesis, for example…). The fundamental rule would be that anything may be added to it—but nothing could be removed. The use of this liturgy in local communities would the sign and experience of ecumenical relationships, not conversations on a national level all too far removed from the theological and liturgical life of the people in the pews.
Ecumenical agreements could exist on a purely local level. Episcopal churches—both snake-belly low and the highest up the candle, Continuing Anglican bodies, Lutheran churches, Independent Catholic churches, could all use the liturgy and be united in it. Should a UCC church feel it to be within their common life—hey, why not? The blend between the stable agreed-upon Ecumenical Use and each community’s local use would maintain the flexibility that would allow each to retain its authentic character while holding what is most important in common. Should a community not feel they could participate in the Ecumenical Use with another, they simply would not have to use it. The responsibility and authority for ecumenical relationships would rest at the local level—where the people are and where they meet, gather, and pray.
Yes, it’s a far-fetched idea. Yes, it needs more development. But it’s a possibility—it’s a new direction. The change is coming. Our Great Unpleasantness reveals that we are already in the midst of it. With the challenges and difficulties come new opportunities—we just need to start figuring out what they are.
Periodization of Liturgy
NLM has a post up that includes bits of an interview with Msgr. Schmitz, vicar-general of the Institute of Christ the King Sovereign Priest–a traditionalist group in the Roman church committed to the use of the Tridentine Mass.
Here’s a snippet that struck me as interesting:
Some of the faithful, however, are alarmed by the popular revival of the Old Mass. “They argue that what the “neo-trads” refer to as “the Mass of always” is in fact the product of the Middle Ages, whereas the liturgies that emerged following the Second Vatican Council are connected with the older, patristic heritage of the third or fourth centuries.
“Very well,” Mgr Schmitz returns with a hint of frustration. “This distinction between historical periods is not a Catholic thing to do. I believe that the Holy Ghost is present in every age and in every period of the Church.
“To divide the history of salvation into little drawers that you yourself label with certain qualities is a very narrow view of the history of the Church. As a matter of fact, we are not medievalists, we are not concentrated on the third century or the 17th.” Very well, but what then can we make of the last 40 years of Catholic worship? Does the Novus Ordo not also belong to this organically evolving Church? “We don’t exclude anything,” Mgr Schmitz answers gently. “We simply want to open the window, so that the wind of tradition, the good Roman Catholic tradition, can blow through into what has often become a rather stale atmosphere.”
I agree with many things in the interview but my views on the liturgy and its history part ways from Msgr. Schmitz on the issue of distinguishing between historical periods. Rather, I’d contend that it is very important for our continued effective proclamation of the Gospel that we pay close attention to historical periods.
“Organic development” is mentioned here–whether that phrase began with Msgr. Schmitz or the interviewer I can’t tell (and haven’t had a chance to read the original article). Development necessarily means change over time. Furthermore, as I understand how the Holy Spirit works in the Church I believe that the Holy Spirit directs certain changes at certain times to respond to the needs that arise among God’s people at those times. IF this theological understanding is correct, then several things necessarily follow from it.
- Liturgy should not be static. A completely static liturgy is a liturgy that is not listening to the truths that the Spirit teaches. Don’t misread me, though–I’m no fan of liturgical change for the sake of change. Continuity is critically important because liturgy is a big part of the practical process of formation that inculturates us into being the people of God. Start messing around with that too much and you mess with our identity. Rather, change should happen slowly, deliberately, organically, with good order, and with much testing of the spirits.
- Historical ages have certain corporate characters based on the events, people, etc. that molded them. As such, some are more alike than others. If the Spirit has taught the church through the liturgy in the past, then it behooves us to examine the epochs and consider what parts of our age are congruent with others. What are the spiritual vitalities and malaises of our age? How do they mirror those of other ages? How did the liturgies of those times and places speak the Gospel to curb the vices and encourage the virtues of the Church? Note that I’m not saying that we capitulate to the Spirit of this Age (or any age…) Rather, we observe how the Holy Spirit has interacted with the various spirits of the ages, sometimes moving in parallel, sometimes issuing sharp rebukes (and often doing both at the same time as well as a myriad other things…).
- One of the ways that the Spirit works is through the work that we do, carefully combing through the tradition to observe how the Spirit has worked in the past, then considering how these ways aid us in our current proclamation of the Gospel. The Spirit works in us as well as through impersonal forces. Thus, as people of liturgy–people who craft liturgies, yes, but more so as people who use and are formed by liturgy–we are called to the work of cooperation which can only happen with the triple spirits of openness to the Spirit, humility about our projects, and a passionate desire for the mutual up-building of the community.
So, as I see it, change is inevitable. But it should be deliberate, steeped in the tradition and open to who God is calling us to be–not merely our own frenzied changes or our capitulation to whatever fancies happen to be current.
We have to take historical periods seriously–because what is at stake is nothing less than the principle of Incarnation. An ahistorical understanding of the Church and its liturgies smacks of Docetism. The Spirit does not choose to encounter us in a vacuum but in the messy realities of our lives, of our ages, of our history and it is precisely there, then, that we must find the Spirit’s footprints to direct our ways.