Sunday, January 31, 2016

Trying to Domesticate the Spirit

"The wind, or spirit, blows where it pleases.  You can hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it is coming from nor where it is going.  The same is true for everyone born of spirit."  John 3: 7b-8 (my translation)

Jesus is said here to remind us that movement of the Spirit is spontaneous and cannot be tamed or boxed in to fulfill our expectations.  That reality can be annoying, when it is useful to make some prediction.  For example, does a person become spiritualized as the direct result of the act of baptism, which is conducted for infants as well as for older persons?  Until recent decades, our Tradition held that the Spirit was received (or fully received) when a person, having been previously baptised, took ownership of baptismal promises through the rite of Confirmation.  And so, back in those days, Communion was withheld until after one had been confirmed.   But later our Episcopal prelates decided that the Spirit is received fully when one has been baptised with water in the name of the Holy Trinity, so that the sacrament of Confirmation adds nothing to it, except as a vehicle for receiving one's adult marching-orders as a Christian.

The biblical book of Acts, being the sequel to Saint Luke's gospel, and by purporting to offer early history of the Christian Movement (which it does in a contrived fashion), affords an opportunity to research the "history" of the Spirit in the life of the fledgeling Church.

We find baptism preceding the giving of the Spirit (8:12 et seq.), baptism accompanied by giving of the Spirit (19: 5-6), and sometimes baptism administered after the receiving of the Spirit (10: 44-48). Moreover, we find baptisms, not in the name of the Trinity, but in the name of Jesus only (19:3-7), and we find the Spirit not being received at all until conferred in the Sacrament of Confirmation (8: 14-17).   Perhaps Jesus' intuition on this matter was right.










Sexagesima: The Answer is Love

Today's Epistle reading is the thirteenth chapter of I Corinthians, a favourite Bible passage for many.  Having first heard from Jeremiah that God has a plan for prophetic action, we learn here from Saint Paul that love is the universal and fundamental spiritual gift; it is the answer.  The question is why do we do what we do.

The Apostle tells us that we may learn everything, we may have perfect faith, we may even be totally self- giving to the point of immolation, but none of those things will have any value whatever --, any redemptive quality -- unless done out of love.  The issue, then, is motivation.  I believe our thought process should be:  "I encounter God's providence in many ways and I connect with God's forgiveness in the Son God sent to show us how to live, and who was faithful even to death.  In these ways, I experience God's love and my natural response is to do what is right, simply because it is right, and for no other reason."

Sadly, the motivations for learning, for growing faith, and for self-giving is too often pandering for a reward ("heaven') or avoiding a punishment ('hell").  And too often qualifying for these benefits will involve being enthralled to an infallible Bible, an infallible Church, or one or more infallible Prelates.  Sorry, God alone is infallible . And God is love. I submit then that when Mother Church dangles the carrot or brandishes the whip, She keeps her children in spiritual immaturity.  As Saint Paul reminds us, our spiritual selves can only begin to grow when our motivation is rooted strictly in love.

Monday, January 25, 2016

Septuagesima: Jesus comes home

In our gospel passage (Lk 4: 14-21), Jesus is back home and goes to the sabbath service with family and friends, just as in the old days. Any thirteen-year-old male could address the congregation in the synagogue. And Jesus does. But as usual he doesn't how to quit when he is ahead.  Initially folks are quite impressed by the grown-up Jesus.   He reads Isaiah's call to social justice:  how God wants good news for the poor, release for captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and liberation of the oppressed. Nice ideas on paper, as usual.

Jesus, however, talks about actually doing them, and in a radically open way.  He endorses Jubilee Year.  Here is what that means.  Every seventh day is a shabbat (sabbath) of rest from Friday night until Saturday night.  Every seventh year is shabbat ha-aretz, a sabbath for the earth when lands lie fallow.  After seven terms of seven years, the next year was to be Jubilee, when all debts would be cancelled, all slaves freed, and the land broken up and redistributed for the landless.  Back when the Hebrew People moved from the periphery of society into Establishment mode -- founding a capital at Jerusalem, centralizing worship in a temple, and adopting monarchy -- they became capitalists and then, of course, no one talked about Jubilee any more, so God raised up prophets to cry out against injustices.

Not only does Jesus want to recover Jubilee, but he wants to apply the principle, not just to Jews as God's drafted people, but to everyone.  He emphasizes the point by recounting stories in the Hebrew Scriptures in which God skips Jews and blesses gentiles.  That was the last straw, and the faithful then attempted to throw Jesus off the brow of a hill.  The lesson: some folk never let their religion interfere with their politics.  Fortunately, Jesus escaped.

It is easy for Christians to imagine that we are the chosen people and God doesn't love anyone else. Jesus' message puts paid to that notion.  God loves all people and wants justice done to all.

To liberate other people according to the vision of Isaiah and Jesus -- whether acting individually or through public policy --  we must first be liberated from our personal attachment to things, from our love of wealth and privilege, our self-centred orientation, from the addictions that enslave us, and from smallness of heart.  Only then we can we be liberators, the Jubilee people Jesus calls us to be.

Saturday, January 23, 2016

The Anglican Dust-Up

Reflecting on the recent meeting of Anglican Primates in England, the Archbishop of Canterbury wrote, "Some have said unity is worthless if achieved at the expense of justice; others have urged unity is a false prize if it undermines truth.  Both of the views misunderstand the nature of the Church...a body of people committed to each other because they are followers of Jesus Christ... We looked at each other across our deep and complex differences -- and we recognised those we saw as those with whom we are called to journey in hope towards the truth and love of Jesus Christ.  It was our unanimous decision to walk together and to take responsibility for making that work."

So far, so good.  Then, immediately following this solid portion of the statement, he recounts how the Episcopal Church is being punished for her belief in marriage equality. Canada, which is close by with us on the issue, was only threatened. We alone were singled out for exclusion from an active role in the Anglican Communion for three years.  This decision results in part from the rapid growth of Christianity in the sub-Saharan world, most of whose bishops and archbishops exercise an autocratic model of church government, hold conservative opinions' and they have constituted a majority of the primates for several years.  In my opinion, the imposition of punitive measures betrays a fundamental misunderstanding and disregard for both the nature of Anglicanism and the nature of our Communion.

First, Anglicanism was born in the English Reformation, which was principally a constitutional, not theological, reform.  The Church moved to end Papal tyranny and the financial rape of England.  But She retained the essential faith, order, worship, and discipline of the ancient Catholic Church whilst reforming what really needed to be fixed --  distortions like denying the Chalice to laity, forbidding marriage to clergy, and worshipping in a dead language.  By contrast, the Continental Reformation was theological, inventing new articles of faith and innovations in church government, worship, and discipline.  That is tossing out baby with bathwater.  Within certain parameters, Anglicans tolerate a wide range of theological and liturgical preferences.  Diversity for us is a strength, not a weakness, and we must remain open to intellectual enquiry and assimilation of new truth. It is not condign that Anglicans should punish a national church for her theological convictions.

 Second, our Communion is a federation of independent national churches.  There is no magisterium. There is no infallible centre.  There is no juridical authority, in Lambeth or elsewhere, standing above and judging a constituent national church.  Hence to issue a declaration of punishment is to violate the integrity of the Episcopal Church as a member of our international Communion of eighty-million Christians.  On one occasion, a bishop friend of mine observed that, right after the American Revolution, we were a validly-constituted Catholic body in apostolic succession, independent, and in communion with no one, and that we could be that again.  Communion leaders should take heed.

Monday, January 18, 2016

Epiphany II: The Wedding at Cana & Baptisms

It was appropriate that the gospel reading for today is about the wedding feast at Cana, because I married both of the couples presenting a child for baptism.  That makes me partly responsible for today's excitement.  In the Cana story, Mary is the quintessential Jewish mother who uses passive-aggression to get Jesus, the proverbial Jewish son, to do what she wants.  Wedding feasts would often last a week and there were certain protocols, the main one being that wine must never run out. Discovering the unthinkable is about to happen, Mary causes Jesus to turn water into a magnificent wine.  The steward is amazed and exclaims that one serves the good stuff first, not after people are already drunk.  Here the best has been served last.

The tale is one of seven "sign" stories in John's gospel; these seven vignettes point to Jesus as Messiah.  Our Cana pericope refers back to the prophecy in Isaiah about a future messianic meal in God's Kingdom; and one characteristic of that meal is that wine never runs out.  From another angle, the Eucharist is a foretaste, a "sneak preview" of that messianic banquet.  It is in the Mass that we celebrate who we are.  We commune with Christ and receive Christ under the appearances of bread and wine, so that we can go out and be Christ in the world.  We are what we eat.

As Catholic Christians, we acknowledge seven sacraments -- the outward and visible signs of inward, spiritual grace -- and we know that baptism is the primal or gateway sacrament.  One must be baptised before one can receive communion, or be confirmed, or confessed, or ordained, or married, or receive anointing.  In baptism the candidate enters a new and eternal relationship with God through Christ and in the context of a new family, the Christian community which journeys together and has each other's back in the life of grace.  The candidate becomes part of the "one great fellowship of prayer and praise" extending through the ages.  Now, in a moment, Moira Shackelford and Case Sinkbeil will be the two newest members of Christ's One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church.  So let's get on with it!

Monday, January 11, 2016

Epiphany I: Anglican Communion Sunday

Today is the Feast of the Baptism and also a day to honour who we are as Anglicans.  Water has been used ritually in the Judaeo-Christian realm for millenia.  Jewish priests sprinkled conrgregations with holy water as a reminder of becoming a People through the crossing of the Red Sea, just as Christian priests today sprinkle congregants with holy water as a reminder of entering the Church through the sacrament of baptism.  Water rituals were, and sometimes still are, used in Jewish practice for ritual purifications and in conversions to Judaism.  John the Baptiser deployed water baptism for a public witness to one's repentance from sin in preparation for coming of the Messiah.

Baptism in the Christian context makes one a member of the Church, a second family of supportive and loving brothers and sisters.  From the beginning, baptism has been the gateway sacrament which must logically be received before any other sacrament may be received.  The promises of baptism are affirmed by the individual in the sacrament of confirmation in which one receives "marching orders" from the bishop.

Catholic Christianity, through the work of the Holy Spirit, emerged from the competition of several different iterations of the faith vying for ascendancy.  When we speak of Catholic Faith, we mean that same faith coming down to us from the apostles, reflected in scripture, clarified by the seven true ecumenical councils, and summed up in the creeds.  Catholic faith continues alive in the three great traditions: the Roman, Orthodox, and Anglican Communions.  As Anglicans, Episcopalians are part of an eighty-million member federation of national churches round the world, the largest religious body in the English-speaking world.  Our Communion was born in the Anglican Reformation, from which the church in England emerged both Catholic and reformed, changing only those things that needed to be repaired, and allowing for theological and liturgical freedom.  When there were some excesses, we corrected through the Oxford Movement and went forward.  We can compare that to the Continental Reformation in which protestants adopted all new forms of church government, rejected most or all of the sacraments, terminated the ancient orders of ministry in order to create new ones, and radically reinvented worship and discipline.  We Anglicans, on the other hand, refused to throw out the baby with the bathwater.

Additionally, Anglicans came to embrace what is often called the Three-Legged Stool, in which we understand God's revelation to be received through Tradition, Scripture and Reason which includes the lived experience of our communities of faith.   Each leg of the stool informs and strengthens the others.  This means that Anglicans can respond with greater flexibility and faithfulness. Let me give two examples:  In the last century, we concluded that the exclusion of women from Priesthood was the result of cultural conditioning reflected both in Church tradition and in the Bible.  By reason,we reached the conclusion that there was no theological barrier to such ordinations and we reformed our practice.  In very recent times, we concluded that discrimination against homosexual persons was the result of pre-scientific ignorance reflected both in Church tradition and in scripture.  In the light of scholarship, which tells us that all people are born with a primary sexual signature and do not choose sexual orientation, and in light of Christ's radical acceptance of others and God's love for all, we embraced not only equality in church life  for gay people in our churches but also marriage equality.

Finally, in the American iteration of Anglicanism, we incorporated some democratic elements into the governance of the church.  For example, we have bicameral legislative bodies.  And, so, while bishops in the apostolic succession still govern (and we are therefore Catholic in governance), they cannot make decisions unilaterally, because clergy and lay representatives also have a vote (thus we are also reformed in governance).

Episcopalians then, within the Anglican universe, are a unique way to be Christian in a modern and rapidly-changing world whilst remaining faithful to our ancient Catholic roots and heritage.

Friday, January 8, 2016

Epiphany: Symbolism on Steroids

The twelve days of Christmas are now behind us, as we celebrate the Epiphany, a major feast often called Twelfth Night.   In our reading (Mt. 2:1-12), three Persian priests, whose religion is based on astrology, read an astral event predicting the birth of a future Jewish king.  In response to the finding, the three -- traditionally called Caspar, Balthazar and Melchior  -- head out from Arabia to Palestine, because they are interested to see a future monarch.

Herod, who is the reigning king of the Jews, is also quite interested.  He is an insecure ruler, a half- Jew who is trusted neither by Jews nor by his Roman clients.  Thus, he has established a record for despatching any would-be contenders for his throne and, so, engages the Magi to do reconnaisance for him and report back.  They make the journey to Bethlehem, then avoid Herod by taking another route homewards.  Thus goes the essence of our story read as history.

Re-read for symbolism, the tale truly comes to life!   The child is given gold (appropriate to royalty), frankincense (appropriate to priests), and myrrh (embalming fluid).   These are not gifts that anyone in his right mind would bring to a baby shower.  And especially to a poor baby sleeping in a cattle trough in a cave!   But we when we see that the gifts respectively symbolize Jesus' life as a spiritual king, the high priest of a new dispensation, and a martyr, we understand that this story in its subtle predictive fashion tells us as much as the Creeds do about the life of Jesus.

At another level, the story also symbolizes the eventual change in the Jesus Movement from being a Jewish sect known simply as "the Way" to becoming a religious phenomenon open to all people.  That change occurred long after the time in which Matthew's narrative is set, but long before his gospel was written.  We who are Gentiles can certainly be most grateful for incorporation into that emerging Christianity and for this wonderful story in which three exotic characters represent our journey to Christ.

 


Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Christmas II: The Finding

My mother used to relate an event that took place when I was a very small child.  We were about to cross a busy highway which bordered the property of the private school where my mother taught and our family resided.  We were going to visit good friends who owned a pharmacy on the other side of the roadway.  Without warning, I broke away from her grip, ran into the roaway, and stood directly in front of a tractor-trailer moving at substantial speed.  As my mother yelled frantically at me, I turned and ran back to her just in the nick of time.

I am sure that, at one time or the other, every parent has experienced losing control over a child. Perhaps just in a shop or a busy street. It is a gut-wrenching feeling.  In today's pericope (Lk. 2: 41-52), we find Jesus' parents in that very position.  The Holy Family had been to the Temple for a piligrim festival. [Three festivals: Pesach (Passover), Shavout (Pentecost), and Sukkoth (Booths), were mandatory for  Jews.]    After the festival was ended and the family headed home, Mary and Joseph discovered Jesus was missing and they had to turn round and go back to Jerusalem.   There they found him inside the Temple, discussing Torah with the scholars!  When Mary questioned his thoughtlessness, he replied by saying he had to be in his Father's House, that is, in the Temple.  His parents did not understand that analogy.  Mary is still "pondering all these things in her heart."  We see Jesus had remembered the obligation to make piligrimage and the male obligation to study Torah, but had forgotten his obligation under the Law to be subject to his parents.

In the last sentence of our reading, we encounter all that has been written about the eighteen years between finding Jesus in the Temple and the beginning of his rabbinic ministry.  That passage simply tells us that Jesus grew in wisdom, stature, and favour with God and people.  Since he is our model, we do well to seek growth in those same areas.  Wisdom can grow through religious observance, the sacramental life and education, all of which the Church offers to us.  Stature can grow through our commitment to physical health through diet and exercise.  And we come into favour with God and people through being the persons we are called to be.

But let's qualify that statement by saying that sometimes being in favour with God collides with being in favour with the public, and vice-versa.  Since Christianity became legal in the West 1702 years ago, the Church has sometimes had a formative role in culture, but often has caved into false values asserted by the culture.  In 1933, the evangelical Christians in Germany, who came to be called the "Deutsche-Christen," unanimously endorsed Hitler as one who embodied the work of God, agreed to cease the use of the Hebrew Scriptures in worship and study, and openly supported the Nazi regime.  In doing so, they committed to militarism, imperialism, bigotry, and unbridled capitalism -- all of which Jesus Christ himself despised.  In our time it would seem that much of evangelical Christianity supports these same false principles.  We always do well to test our values against those of our Saviour.