UNITY AT NASHOTAH

Last Thursday, Nashotah House seminary held its annual Commencement and celebrated the Feast of its founder, Bishop Jackson Kemper. The speaker was Dr. Colin Podmore, the new director of Forward in Faith UK and until recently the Clerk of the General Synod of the Church of England. In the course of his address, Dr. Podmore suggested that Nashotah House sets a positive example of unity in diversity, both at home and potentially in England.

 

Podmore harkened back to the days of “comprehension” in which it was possible for people with different traditions and convictions to live together within the Anglican Church. He proposed that at Nashotah, among the staff and student body were people divided over staying in or leaving TEC, or about the ordination of women, and yet able to pray and work daily in common accord. Now that is obviously true. I want to suggest, however, that this is not a contrived policy, or an exercise in what we once termed “comprehension” but something quite other.

 

At the lunch after Commencement a visibly agitated priest asked to speak to me. He asked whether the address meant that we were now to compromise with error for the sake of a space within the church. I suggested to him that what was meant was something quite different, something I would flesh out in terms other than comprehension. In a sense Nashotah points the way through detachment. It stands pointing towards something far deeper than accommodation, or being nice to one another, or bargaining with conviction in order to survive. Nashotah daily points to the reality of the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church through a corporate life of daily prayer, of Word and Sacrament.

 

Since the Reformation there have been a number of ways to make a claim for Catholicity. The great churches of the East and West, Rome and Constantinople have laid claim to an exclusive catholicity, proposing themselves as exclusive possessors of ecclesial authenticity. There have been times when such a claim has been made with the full and inclusive power of exclusion, the right to unchurch and exclude those without their folds. There have been times lately, when the same claim has been made with charity and compassion, acknowledging the unity of the baptized as individuals within, even if concluding that their corporate presences are defective. On the other hand, classical Protestants have fudged the issue, pointing to some amorphous, invisible body as the Church Catholic, while sitting lightly on visible unity. At best such a view recognizes that the Church Catholic is God’s Church, the Body of Christ, and not some institutional creation of human beings. At worst such a view has promoted a free market in the creation and division of the Christian community and a consumerist evaluation of what is authentic and what is not ‘a true church’. Among Anglicans, at least for a while, a ‘branch theory’ of the church was advanced, suggesting that ecclesial communities possessing certain marks such as sacraments, scripture and historic ministry, are true churches. Such a view identifies certain historic marks of authenticity, but easily leads to an arrogant satisfaction that ‘we are true and they are not’ and to a sectarian delight manifest in much modern Episcopalian denominationalism.

 

However the vision of the One Church to which Nashotah House points and lives into may be something quite different. In worship, study and work the community relies on an experience of the Church Catholic, an experience entered into by fidelity to “that which has been received”, that is The Tradition, an experience in which at one and the same time the reality of a unity which does not depend on human structural and organizational skills is magnified, and space for the working of the Spirit created. Yet this is no exercise in romanticism. The searing heat of modern apostasy and disunity has scorched away ritualism and fussy, self-absorbed piety. Reaching out towards the Body of Christ involves staff and students and those who gather there on great occasions in a painful encounter with the shattered body of the Church, the suffering frame of Jesus, forever lifting high the Cross in a bemused and lost world. Unity and fraction, holiness and sin, bump familiarly together in the lives of those consecrated and set apart to be the present church’s missionaries and life givers. That which lifts the Nashotah experience apart may be discovered in the chapel, as the Offices are said and sung, the Eucharist offered, by young men and women, teachers from different backgrounds, reflecting contemporary divisions, but caught up, despite themselves in the work of Liturgy. All that is taught in classroom, out in the parishes, in the daily life of work and play, is daily renewed and revived as the broken church interacts with the Church which transcends time and space.

 

The lesson, the pattern Nashotah offers is of the church which concentrates on Word and Sacrament, of living into the Tradition, (not a tradition of inherited habits, but the Tradition of living experience in communion with that which has been received and is to be passed on); on worship, corporate fellowship, evangelism, and such good works that have been prepared for us to walk in. It is from such fidelity that pentecostal love is absorbed and practiced with consecrated abandon, by those who make no claims for themselves, their rights, their expectations, but who exist to serve the God who has called them.

 

You shall receive power, when the Holy Spirit comes, and you will be my life-givers to the ends of the world.

SERMON FOR EASTER 2

April 7, 2013

Acts 5:27-32; Psalm 118:14-29 or Psalm 150; Revelation 1:4-8; John 20:19-31

We all yearn for peace and quiet, at least some of the time. We live in a noisy, intrusive world to the point when moments of silence may feel terrifying. Even when we are relaxing, there’s a good chance that the telephone will ring – a sales pitch for something we don’t need – or the doorbell ring, or the computer ping. Even if we decide to get away from everything, getting there can be stressful.

When we hear that Jesus appeared to his disciples after the Resurrection and said, “Peace be with you,” we wonder whether he was being sarcastic. The disciples are in the upper room, huddled for fear. Fear denotes an absence of peace. The disciples feared their new title, that of Apostle, feared their Mission to go out into the world and tell about Jesus, and feared the outside world that seemed ready to pounce and destroy them as it seemed to have done to Jesus.

At one level, Jesus saying, “Peace,” was utterly normal. Just as we say, “Hi,” or “Hey,” depending on our tribe, or “How are you?” – greetings that have become so habitual they are blurted out before we think. In Israel, then and now, the habitual greeting was “Shalom,” peace. It was expected. The response, “Peace be with you also,” was the polite reply.

Jesus says hello to his fearful, bemused friends, as he says hello to us, just as we share the Peace during the Eucharist each Sunday. Too often at the Eucharist we use that greeting to engage in hurried conversations that have nothing to do with peace at all! “Wanna join us for lunch after church?” “Have you seen what Marty is wearing?” “That sermon was a bore!” Meanwhile, the priest tries to shake as many hands as possible, hopes no one is offended if their hands aren’t shaken, and worries that this noisy interlude won’t destroy the rhythm of the liturgy.

Yet when we emulate Jesus as we exchange the Peace, we remember what he was saying to the disciples in the upper room.

What was he saying?

Jesus was saying that his presence is peace; a peace, as St Paul puts it, that is beyond our understanding, far more potent than an absence of noise, or a feeling of well being. Jesus says, “Peace,” and we are reminded how costly his gift of peace is, and how extraordinary its depth. Because Jesus has died, has risen, has ascended, we are offered a share in the results of those costly actions. Baptism reminds us that we have died with Jesus, have risen with him, have ascended with him, and now live in his company, in the company of the Church, fed by Word and Sacrament.

Secondly, the peace Jesus gives us means that nothing can separate us from the love of God, except our own unwillingness to accept the gift, live in the gift and share the gift.

Accepting a gift is a moment of self-emptying, of acceptance and gratitude. For a moment we are beholden, vulnerable, dependent as we receive that which we lack. Receiving a gift can strike our pride, can be uncomfortable.

Living in the gift demands an active gratitude. It also means that we value that which we have been given. We feel it necessary to show it off.

And that leads to sharing the gift. The gift of “the peace of God which passeth all understanding” is to be received as a trust to share with others. Thus when we exchange “the Peace” today, we say to those we greet, “Here is the most wonderful gift, the gift of accepting Jesus into our lives and sharing that communion with each other and out into the world.”

All the orders Jesus gave to the apostles are about that Peace: Go tell about me; go baptize; do this in remembrance; love one another.

In short, hearing and accepting Jesus’ “hello” forms us and renews us. It is that peace for which we yearn and which we are given. The apostles went into a hostile world. Many of them were martyred. But through it all they were upheld and sustained by the “Peace” Jesus gave them. Today he offers that same Peace to you.

 

 

 

 

ARCHBISHOP JUSTIN AND ROME

It’s a great pity that Archbishop Justin isn’t to attend the papal inauguration. Granted it’s two days before his own, but it seems to me that this is a very special occasion, perhaps more so than any recent papal accession; the Ecumenical Patriarch is to be there, and Pope Francis seems to appreciate Anglicanism’s contribution to the world church. I do hope that Archbishop John, (York) will wear a clerical collar, despite his “vow” when he is at the service. He will be there on behalf of us all. A papal inauguration is no place for personal statements.

 

ON CONCILIATION

The terms of ‘conciliation’ visited upon and agreed to by bishops charged with what amounts to disloyalty to the Episcopal Church are now public. I don’t wish to enter into the conversation about whether the Seven should have agreed to this miserable document. They had no choice in the matter. Those who are now Ordinaries would have risked deposition if they had not signed, preluded by costly legal proceedings which their dioceses for the most part could not have afforded. Their conviction of that which is an ecclesiastical version of high treason would have left their dioceses vulnerable and leaderless.

My main discomfort is with the behavior of most of their episcopal colleagues, now assembled at Kanuga for a meeting of the House of Bishops, allegedly devoted to prayer and self-examination. Face it, these men and women represent all Episcopalians, the vast majority of whom haven’t shown any signs that they object to a use of power which is arbitrary, coercive, and ruthless.

This should not be a matter of who supports the schism which has occurred in Fort Worth, Quincy and elsewhere. Those who regard schism as unacceptable should be as disturbed by the treatment of the Seven Bishops, or is it nine, as those who think that schism was unavoidable. What did these naughty bishops do? They signed an ‘amicus’ brief to the courts in Texas and Illinois, challenging the view that General Convention owns all property within the United States occupied and utilized by communicants, even the disused outhouses in rural churches. The challenge isn’t that the dioceses of TEC have and share ownership with the parishes and missions within their territory, although such a view is modern. The challenge is that the General Convention is the ultimate owner of those outhouses and the buildings standing on the land administered by the parishes and missions. (Of course if General Convention owns these buildings is it not ultimately responsible for their upkeep?)

An ‘amicus’ brief is not a formal part of a court case. It merely informs the judge that there may be another opinion than that advanced by those seeking to claim ownership. Certainly in these cases there are other opinions, even if they are held by a minority, as the conciliation document states. TEC is now governed by a group, which was once a minority, and which used every tactic n the book to advance its views. But as the Presiding Bishop is wont to say, “The winners write history”.

Basically the ‘offending’ bishops are accused of making their views public.  It is suggested that when the national church authorities decide to take a course of action, our bishops must bow meekly and assent. The document even admits that General Convention hasn’t expressed it’s mind on the policy of challenging in the secular courts those who dissent and withdraw.

Anglicanism has always been an amazingly tolerant church. The sort of coercion now manifested hasn’t been seen since 1662. No thought has been given to the reputations and authority of bishops so humiliated within their own dioceses. And at Kanuga today, most of the bishops present pretend nothing has happened, greet the bishops now humiliated with a hug, and have nothing to say, or if they do it’s a squeeze of the shoulder and a muttered offer of sympathy.  And so TEC surrenders any claim to be a broad tolerant church, and bows the knee to the use of power and force. For sure the bishops and other church people who brought charges against the bishops, using the new, deeply flawed Title 4 disciplinary canons are culpable. Certainly the Presiding Bishop and her legal team continue to use methods which demonstrate little acquaintance with the Gospels. But on this day the major blame lies at the feet of usually good and kindly people who refuse to involve themselves, avert their eyes and walk by.

IRONY

I’m constantly stumbling across two opinions which while seeming poles apart, and voiced by people who wouldn’t invite each other to tea are remarkably similar. The first is argued by people who rely on often disjointed biblical quotations, taken out of context, but believed to be applicable to this or that contemporary problem. Such a view brings an odd assortment of people together; Jehovah’s Witnesses, Moslem extremists, Christian Fundamentalists to mention a few. They cull their scriptures until a hey presto moment provides them with an answer. Very often that answer was their starting position, for which they seek scriptural affirmation.

 

And then there are those who make the astounding claim that religious truth is discovered in the findings of secular society. For them the voice of the people is the voice of God, or perhaps the voice of ‘enlightened ‘, ‘thinking people’, that is to say people who think like me. Their sacred texts are public opinion polls, scientific surveys, political ideology, trending enthusiasms. Of course if a biblical text may be discovered to prop up or give a religious veneer to the enthusiasms of popular society, so much the better.

 

Both of these sets of people tend to have a dim view of the church, except as a convenient organization to propagate their assertions. Both are heirs of the old Broad Church tradition, which denied any supernatural and sacramental dimension of the church. Both entertain puritanical distaste for any form of church which denies them personal autonomy. The first are heirs to the 17th Century sectarians and the second heirs of the 18th Century Latitudinarians, the second connected to the first through the thoughts of people Like John Locke. Their modern appeal is that both speak to a desire for personal autonomy of thought.

 

The ideal of the Church articulated by St Paul, enfleshed by the Fathers, and practiced in community, an interconnected society of persons called to serve God, enlivened by common faith and worship seems stagnant and oppressive to such people. In practice however, something very different is true. The Fundamentalist and the Progressive are trapped in a moment in time, in its struggles, causes, movements and popular opinions. There is no past, no living tradition, and the only future acceptable is one crowned by hoped-for success. In the meantime, comfort may be gained by huddling together in like-minded groups, from which missiles may be fired against those who are wrong.

 

A recent example of this may be discovered in reading reactions to a conference held in Coventry, England by the new Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby. The dismissive rhetoric articulated by people of widely different positions, mutually exclusive confronted with a call for Christians to practice reconciliation points to a primitive impulse to ‘smite down my enemies hip and thigh’ simply because it is claimed, to speak peace to those with whom one disagrees is compromise with unbelievers. So sad.

THE WATCHING WORLD

Justin Welby, almost Archbishop of Canterbury, in a recent interview remarked: ”If you look back on some of the arguments we’ve had over the last few months in the Church of England, it is poison to the mind of those who are outside the Church. It anaesthetises them against the gospel.”

 

He goes on to note that it is not unusual for Christians to disagree, but the tone of that disagreement matters. Of course if one doesn’t care what those outside think of our quarrels, or if one thinks that the justice of the Cause trumps concerns about the thoughts and feelings of others outside the camp, then demonizing those with whom one disagrees doesn’t factor. To liken one’s opponents as terrorists, as our Presiding Bishop seems to have done recently in South Carolina is a case in point. It may have thrilled the group to whom the remarks were aimed. Those to whom the remark was aimed probably expected nothing more. But what of those on the outside reading her words, let alone of those who attend their local parish because it is home, has been home perhaps for generations? I would hazard a guess that a good number of the people who went last Sunday to their local parish, even though it is now “schismatic” are hurt and puzzled.

 

I’ve now been an Episcopalian for fourteen years. I’ve done my best as an individual to “speak peace to those who are afar off and to those who are near”, to be a reconciler. Yet year by year matters have become worse. Both sides in our conflicts seem to prefer to emulate the political divisions and tactics in secular politics rather than seeking to follow the example of Jesus. “Father forgive them” seems a wimpy response to make to opposition, even when murmured from the Cross.

 

Recently a group of young clergy and ordinands pleaded for an end to law suits, depositions and hatefulness. Their appeal was to both sides. A few hundred joined them. Some questioned their motives. Others trashed their views. Cromwellian England seems close at hand.

 

“See how these Christians love one another,” exclaimed many during the persecution of Christians in the early days looks like an exercise in irony to those who would like to embrace Christianity. To those who wish to deride the Faithful for hypocrisy, we provide even more ammunition.

 

While we consider reforms to structure, it is high time we re-examine our approach to dissent. As Lent approaches it would be salutary for Episcopalians to pray about our new archbishop’s wise words. Our pleas for orthodoxy or justice are utterly compromised when we can’t even respect each other, pray for each other, and make space for each other. Christian conflict can’t be resolved through legislation, majority rule, brilliant responses. God in His time works out His purposes and we are called to be patient and to be faithful as God does his work of grace.

A MORE EXCELLENT WAY

A growing number of (mostly) younger clergy and laity are signing a statement urging all sides in our present conflicts to cease using the secular courts to enforce canon law or challenge canon law. You may find the statement ashttp://www.thepetitionsite.com/233/377/858/bearing-with-one-another-in-love-toward-reconciliation-in-south-carolina/  I believe that many Episcopalians find themselves challenged by the present policy of the TEC leadership to rely on the secular arm. For some this is a scriptural issue, perhaps encapsulated in the Pauline requirement that Christians not involve the secular world in its internal struggles, in itself St. Paul’s thoughts on our Lord’s teachings about how we deal with each other, and with those we perceive to have wronged us. For others, the issue hinges on how our internal struggles affect our ability to faithfully portray to the watching world how we manage to be faithful to the reconciling, caring Gospel, how well we walk those extra miles, or forgive ‘until seventy times seven’. Perhaps there are also those who feel strongly that the legal costs incurred call into question our stewardship of our resources, which are of course, God’s resources. Some of us think that recourse to the state to enforce godly discipline further erodes separation of Church and State. In this respect secular courts, I believe, should intentionally absent themselves from matters which compromise their neutrality in church matters.

 

Nor are these matters solely a problem for our leadership. Those who have left TEC must similarly question whether their assets are best spent in resisting attempts to recover the buildings and funds they seek to retain. If one believes it intolerable to remain within TEC one must consider whether attempting to hold on to real estate is worth the expenditure involved or whether leaving bricks and mortar isn’t an appropriate symbol of a determination to begin afresh in mission. “Where your treasure is….”.  Many who have left all behind find the experience liberating, find their new church buildings affirmations of their intention to go into the world traveling light. The legacy of these battles over material assets is sure to hamper future reconciliation when God’s purpose for the church triumphs over out time-based divisions. In this Week of Prayer for Unity, surely the legacy of our unhappy divisions are in our focus. The history of such battles in the North African churches of early years, left the church so weakened that it was unable to resist near extinction. In a growingly secular Western world, one may have sympathy for those who look at the church and say “who needs this?”

 

I by no means seek to trivialize the theological divisions which beset contemporary Anglicanism. Rather I seek to stress a simple truth. God will work his purpose out. We see “puzzling reflections in a mirror” but inevitably it will be self-sacrificing love which prevails for that is God’s purpose. Those of us who believe that God has revealed his will in scripture, in the light of tradition, through our collective use of sanctified reason must also understand that while we apprehend, as best fallen creatures may the will of God, we haven’t the foggiest idea of just how God intends to utilize that which he reveals.

 

Both sides in our present troubles are often guilty of assuming that we have apprehended that which God is actually doing. We confuse legislation with revelation: we claim that the Holy Spirit endorses not only our attempts to be faithful, but also the programs we impose on the Divine Agenda. As moderns we love pre-packaged solutions, peddled by synods or by persons and groups who have produced these programs. We “buy into them” because that is how we run our governments, schools and communities. Revive a parish or a diocese? Purchase a program. We are incapable of addressing almost any activity without looking for or purchasing a ready-made solution. And so we can’t just do that which we have been called to do. We can’t pray, worship, evangelize, care for the poor without adopting a method, even if such a method becomes a substitute for the deed, and even if that method itself becomes a matter of controversy and division. Underneath all the issues of the moment lies our desire to be as God, to be in control, to protect ourselves and enforce our will.

 

We are where we are because we have failed to submit ourselves to God, and because we dare not love.