Sunday, April 29, 2012
I wanted to begin thinking about church reform in the next few posts. The issue of reforming the Episcopal Church is one of personal interest to me, since it is the body in which I find myself. There are two myths often associated with reforming churches, and especially with the Episcopal Church. The first is that the Episcopal Church has somehow stepped outside of God's "boundaries" and is incapable of reform. This is obviously false and rather dangerous a theology to hold. We know from the Scriptures that God has said to us, "I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee," this includes us as individuals and us in this portion of the Catholic Church in the United States. I find it a particularly dangerous statement to make and I, for one, am not in the business of limiting the Almighty. If God can save me from sin into righteousness, the Episcopal Church will be a "piece of cake" so to speak. The second myth is that other churches, particularly Anglican churches, are not in need of reform. This is also a dangerous idea because it equates schism with reform. Leaving the Episcopal Church, or any church, doesn't necessarily solve any problems (it can, obviously, but it is not an automatic response). For a schism to actually reform the church, it has to correct the problems that the original body did not.
The subject of reforming the Episcopal Church brings certain feelings to some, perhaps who have sought this for many years. The feeling among some is that they have tarried long and hard in this matter and that because the Church has yet to be fully reformed that it is a sign that God is calling them elsewhere. While I don't presume to have any answers (or at least any better than others), I think the idea of a "quick fix" to the Episcopal Church's problems results far more from American culture than divine intervention. If we look just at our own Church's founding in the Church of England, we see a long and slow process of Church reform. We know that Cranmer was of a reformed mindset long before 1549, yet it took him many years to accomplish his goal, and he had royal support. We know that "one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day". We also know that the Episcopal Church has been void of Gospel preaching and solid theological education for over 100 years. Can we really expect to fix a century-long problem in a few short years?
The beginning of reform is not to be found in the seminaries, nor in the pews. Reform is not brought about by bishops or councils or commissions. The General Convention cannot pass a resolution to reform the Church. No, the reform of the Church starts in the heart. The hearts of the laity and clergy must be reformed from the inside to the out. I like the quote from Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Secker, in his ideas on church reform beginning as a "reformation from Sin, or improvement in goodness." I can't expect to reform myself from sin completely tomorrow, much less in a decade. I think on my deathbed I will still be struggling to "improve in goodness". The same is true for the Church, no matter how much work I pour into reforming her, the Church will always be in need of reform, semper reformanda, because the Church is made up of sinful men. This ideal of having a perfect Church is something that we must learn to let go of if we are to truly work to renew anything.
Perhaps the ideal of reform in the Episcopal Church seems more a dream than anything which could actually happen. Perhaps so, but it always seems that when the results of something seem the most unlikely, that is where we see the fruits of the Holy Spirit at work. I'm not saying that the Episcopal Church can be reformed in my lifetime, nor that I am wholly convinced that God is only going to use the Episcopal Church in reviving orthodox Anglicanism, that would be presumptuous and beyond my knowledge as a mere man, but I do know that God is faithful and that he has called me, at least at this time, to work for renewal and reform in this Protestant Episcopal Church.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
I've been busy the last few weeks and unable to write here but I do have a thought for you today.
I'm wondering if our churchmanship labels are effective at describing theology and praxis. If I tell someone I am a "High Churchman" what images does that conjure up in their mind? I wonder because when I say that to certain people, there tends to be an expectation of what I believe and prefer ceremonially that doesn't line up with my belief or praxis. To add another layer of complexity to the issue, most of the times "high" and "low" are associated with ceremonial descriptions, at least in the Episcopal Church, while they originate as theological terms. Essentially, until the latter part of the 19th century, there was no ceremonial diversity in Anglicanism, almost all parishes followed the same guidelines for worship. In fact, the only diversity that existed was between parish churches and cathedrals (and collegiate chapels). The designations of "High" and "Low" started out to create a dichtomy between people who had a high regard for the Established Church and those who preferred lattitude in the Church. Obviously, those terms have evolved much over the centuries.
When I say that I am High Church, I mean that I have a high regard for the visible church in general and the Anglican Church in particular. The emphasis lies on the visible means of grace and the continuation of ministry in the three-fold ministry of bishop, presbyter, and deacon. The focus on the visible means of grace follows the historical, Reformational understanding of the Sacraments as means of grace for the Christian, yet denies not that justification is by faith alone. Neither does an emphasis on the visible church imply that the three-fold ministry is necessary for the existence of the Church. I hold to Waterland's theory of how baptism and regeneration are related. I hold to the "dynamic receptionism" of the same, in regards to how the body and blood of Christ are received in Holy Communion. I prefer a dignified yet ceremonially simple service according to the Usage of the Prayer Book. This is the position of famous Caroline Divines such as Laud, Taylor, and Cosin, and lesser known figures such as Van Mildert, Hobart, and Hopkins.
I'm not sure that this theology or ceremonial is best summed up with the word "High Church" anymore. The problem is, I'm not sure what words we can use to describe this type of churchmanship anymore.