The oldest formularies, the Thirty-Nine Articles of Religion and the two Books of Homilies--can be traced to the Eduardian and Elizabethan phases of the English Reformation and were given their final form during the reign of Elizabeth I and form part of the Elizabethan Settlement. On the other hand, while it may have retained texts from the second Eduardian Prayer Book and the Elizabethan Prayer Book and its Jacobean revision, the 1662 Book of Common Prayer and the Ordinal annexed to that Book are products of the Restoration and show the influence of the first Eduardian Prayer Book and the 1637 Scottish Prayer Book, the infamous “Laudian Liturgy.” They were compiled in the wake of the Great Rebellion and they represent a reaction to that period in English Church history.
While the Act of Uniformity of Elizabeth I imposed the 1559 Book of Common Prayer on the English Church and Archbishop Matthew Parker’s Advertisements did away with most Medieval church and clergy ornaments, an Ultramontane uniformity did not prevail in the Church of England. In some churches the minister wore a surplus; in other churches the minister refuse to wear one. Some ministers wore the four-cornered cap, black gown, and black stockings that identified them as clergy. Others eschewed this uniform for ordinary street clothes. In some churches “God’s board” was place at the entrance of the chancel for communion services; in other churches it was placed lengthwise in the body of the church. In some churches the people kneeled around the table for communion. In other churches they sat at the table. In cathedrals and college chapels choirboys and singing men sang the elaborate musical compositions of Thomas Tallis, William Byrd, and others, accompanied on the pipe organ. In parish churches the parish clerk lined out the simpler metrical psalms of Sternhold and Hopkins for the congregation to sing without accompaniment. A few parish churches had a barrel organ.
This group, whether they realize it, are heading down a well-worn trail, a trail other groups have taken in the history of the Anglican Church.
One of the dangers of ecclesiastical life is the proclivity to romanticize a particular period of Church history. A second danger is to cherry pick passages from the works of divines and other writers of that period and the scholars of later times to support our view of the period. A third danger is to create our own myths, our fantasy narrative of what was going on during that period.
We cannot retrace our way back to a bygone era and insist that the way that the church was at that time is how the church should be today. The late Dean William Palmer Ladd in Prayer Book Interleaves: Some Reflections on How the Book of Common Prayer Might Be Made More Influential in Our English-Speaking World (1942, 1943; 1957) draws to our attention.
No one who thinks clearly about these problems of time would
deny that the whole past, the distant and the near, the great and the little,
is dead and gone for good. It can never come back to us. We cannot go back to
it. We live in an ever-new, an ever-different, and an ever-changing world. As
Christians we must face the fact that the Christian past, however precious, is
non-existent and inalterable. Our duty lies in the present. Now is the day of
salvation. No moment but the present is a really sacred one (p. 3).
Later in the chapter Dean Ladd writes:
In matters of doctrine and liturgy people sometimes choose
one particular period of Church history and endow it with special sanctity and
authority. The English reformers made their appeal to the first six centuries.
The XIII, when scholastic theology flourished, is the favorite century with
many. Some exalt the Reformation age and refer to the writings of Luther and
Calvin as if they were Holy Writ. Others, even some Anglicans, insist on
building their spiritual home in the Counter-Reformation era, alongside Pope
Pius V and the Society of Jesus. And there are those who minimize the past and
say we can find God's fullest revelation only in the modem period. Having
selected a 'golden age' people are apt to read back into it their own pet
ideas. (pp. 4-5)
He goes on to write:
As a matter of fact it is futile to search for a golden age
or an authoritative age. The past has no value except as it is linked with the
present. The Church has proclaimed the truth in every century, and being human
as well as divine, it has in every century lapsed into grievous error. The
student of Church history must try to discover both the beacon lights and the
warnings, and should seek to interpret both for the benefit of his own time.
Ladd does not dismiss learning from the past. What he does point out is the fruitlessness of treating the present as if it was the past.
We live in a time which is far different from let us say the
Restoration period in English Church history. We cannot turn our churches into
local societies for creative anachronism. There is a very real danger that we
will end up playing at church rather than being the church. In our time it
is critical that we be the church! We may have a lot of learning to do
about being the church to our own particular neighborhood or community in this century.
I have no difficulty with endeavoring to conform with the doctrinal and worship principles laid out in the Articles of Religion and the Homilies provided they are genuinely agreeable with what the Bible teaches, particularly what Jesus himself teaches, and provided further that they are relevant to our own time. I must add the caveat that I am not suggesting that they do not meet that standard. I do, however, question the usefulness of recreating what we think might have been the ecclesiastical culture of a particular period in Church history and then asserting that we must do church that way today. The Post-Tractarians did that in the nineteenth century and the Catholic Revivalists in the twentieth century, and the Ancient-Future crowd are doing it in this century. We do not need a new group joining them no matter how well-meaning that group may be. I do not believe that attempting to turn back the clock to a bygone era will bring about a revival of confessional Anglicanism, much less contribute to a renewal of the Anglican Church.
It may be meaningful to a particular clergyman to wear a snowy white surplice and to stand at the north end of a communion table, placed altar-wise against the east wall and protected by rails from the irreverence of men and dogs, and to read the service from the 1662 Book of Common Prayer on an oversized brass stand that takes up the whole end of the table. To the average unchurched Joe or Joanna, however, it means nothing at all. It holds no relevance for them. The clergyman might as well be wearing a Hawaiian shirt, shorts, and flipflops for all they care, the table set a right angle to the wall, and the clergyman sitting on one corner, dangling one leg and the other leg tucked under him, while reading the service in pigeon-English from his cellphone. Like the priest in the ornate fiddleback chasuble, his back turned to the congregation, bobbing up and down in front of the altar, making multiple signs of the cross over the bread and the wine, it gives them the wrong message of what being the church is about.
One of the reasons beside the COVID-19 pandemic that church membership and worship attendance has plunged is that church is no longer of contemporary interest. Churchgoing is no longer regarded as a worthwhile activity. Specializing in how Christians did church in the eleventh century or the eighteenth century is not going to reach and engage the unchurched in this century. It is not going to bring those who have dropped out of the church flocking back.
The Articles of Religion are like guide rails on a winding mountain road. They keep us on the road and prevent us from plunging into a precipice. Within those guiderails there is ample latitude in secondary matters such as vestments. We can officiate at church services in a red cape and hip boots if we are of a mind to.
When we insist that all Anglican churches must adopt a particular ecclesiastical culture, however, we are seeking to impose bounds other than those which the Articles set. We are taking away the broad latitude in secondary matters which the Articles offer. What we are espousing is something other than confessional Anglicanism. We are looking to other standards in doctrine and worship beside the reformed Anglican Church’s historic confession of faith.
We can be confessional Anglicans and not use the same Prayer Book, not wear the same vestments, and not follow the same practices.
The temptation to move the boundary markers has been a longstanding temptation in the reformed Anglican Church. The Puritans sought to move the Church more in the direction of Geneva. The Laudians sought to move the Church more in the direction of what they believed was the Church of the Patristic writers. The Usager Non-Jurors sought to move the Church more in the direction of the Eastern Orthodox Church, in the direction of Moscow as well as Constantinople. The Post-Tractarians sought to move the Church more in the direction of Rome. The Ancient-Future crowd seek to move the Church in the direction of a mythical golden age that preceded the Great Schism of the eleventh century—the split between Rome and Constantinople. They are oblivious to the fact that we are in the third decade of the twenty-first century—a century of the cellphone, the internet, TikTok, the nones, the dones, climate change, political polarization, and the COVID-19 pandemic.
One danger inherent in this phenomenon is that the group espousing a particular ecclesiastical culture can embrace a particular political mindset and ideology, conservative or progressive, which has nothing to do with the teaching of the Bible, particularly Jesus’ own teaching, and the doctrinal and worship principles of the Articles, and which can eclipse and obscure these teachings and principles in that group’s thinking. This has happened in the past. Churchmanship and politics became fused. It is not a positive development. It can seriously interfere with our efforts to be church to our community. Instead of seeing the face of Jesus, the community sees the face of a politician or a political party. Christians are called to be Christ’s ambassadors, to be his agents and representatives. Their lives are supposed to evidence the presence and rule of God, not the influence of a political leader. What is important is not whether Jesus is on “our side,” but whether we are on Jesus’ side. When church and politics become mixed, politics will undercut our efforts to reach and engage the unchurched. By mixing church and politics, we are giving those that we hope to disciple as new believers the wrong message. Jesus should always be first in our loyalties. We cannot claim to be his disciple and ignore what he taught or the example that he set.
We should be wary of any ecclesiastical culture that claims our loyalty but gives only lip service to Jesus and assigns him a circumscribed role in its thinking. For some ecclesiastical cultures, he may be the Jesus who is hanging on the cross or the Jesus who is at the right hand of the Father. He, however, is not the Jesus who is the shepherd of our souls or the Jesus who is our companion and guide on the journey to the heavenly city. He is not the one Person who has the most influence in our lives.
A second danger inherent in this phenomenon is that it can
become a retreat from reality. We do not like the changing world in which we
find ourselves, so we withdraw into a fantasy bubble of our own creation. With
the advent of the internet this is much easier to do than in the past. Through
social media we can link up with like-minded people who share our fears and
concerns and with whom we can construct our own fantasy narrative. We can
create our own alternative reality. Instead of spreading the good news of Jesus
and making new disciples from every people group, from every linguistic group,
from every cultural group, from every socio-economic group, from every
racial-ethnic group, from every age group, we recruit more people like
ourselves, people who share our fears and concerns and who buy our fantasy
narrative.
What we are doing, however, is not fulfilling the Great Commission. What we are doing is finding more playmates—people who will join us in playing at church, rather than being church to a particular neighborhood or community. I am not suggesting that every church that adopts a particular ecclesiastical culture is playing at church. I am suggesting that it is at high risk of playing at church. It is at high risk of losing sight of what Jesus taught should be our priorities.
One way that we can distinguish being church from playing at church is the impact that we as the local Body of Christ have on our community. Members of a church can gather on Sundays, sing God’s praises, hear two or three Scripture readings and a sermon, pray for the church and the world, receive communion, fellowship over coffee and cake, and then go home. During the week they have negligible impact on their community. They may not even live in the community where the church is located. They have negligible impact on the community where they live.
Members of a church can gather on Sundays, sing God’s praises, hear two or three Scripture readings and a sermon, pray for the church and the world, receive communion, fellowship over coffee and cake, and then go home. During the week they have a tremendous impact upon their community, upon surrounding communities, and even upon communities in other parts of their state and the world. The way that they have impact may differ from community to community, but they are having a definite effect upon other people’s lives. They are serving as instruments of God’s grace to these people.
Now readers may object to my use of the phrase “playing at church” but I believe that it accurately describes the state of a church when it is not being church to the community or the larger world in a way that is serious. The church is “majoring in the minors” as the late Peter Toon put it. The church is not doing what is most important.
Jesus tied the love of God to the love of others. A church that does not obey his commands is not worshiping the Father in spirit and truth. Luke 9:35 reminds us, “A voice came from the cloud, saying, ‘This is my Son, whom I have chosen; listen to him.’” Listening to Jesus includes obeying him, not just giving him a hearing, and then doing things our own way.We can become so wrapped up in a particular ecclesiastical culture that it becomes an idol to us. It takes God’s place in our hearts. We become more concerned with complying with its rules and regulations that than we do Jesus’ teaching. This is what happened to the Pharisees and the teachers of the Law. They became so wrapped up in the traditions of the elders that they neglected the teaching of the Bible or even set aside the Bible’s teaching.
For Anglicans and Episcopalians no discussion of ecclesiastical culture would be complete without examining the place of liturgical books in their religious life. By liturgical books, I am referring to the edition of The Book of Common Prayer or other collection of rites and services used in a particular church. A church may use more than one liturgical book. For example, an Episcopal parish may use The Book of Occasional Services as well as The Book of Common Prayer (1979). A Continuing Anglican parish may use the Anglican Missal as well as The Book of Common Prayer (1928).
It has been long recognized that while individual parishes, missions, and chapels may use the same liturgical book, they will use it differently. The idea that churchgoers may attend any church of particular jurisdiction on any given Sunday and find the church worshiping with the exact same liturgy in the exact same way, while it may grip the imagination of some churchmen, is a myth. The ecclesiastical culture of a church, local customs and traditions, clergy preferences and peculiarities, the church’s circumstances, and other factors will determine how a church uses that liturgical book.
The strict imposition of a uniform practice upon the churches of particular jurisdiction is also not desirable. The United States is increasingly diverse not only demographically and culturally but also in other ways. What may work in one locality in expanding the Church may not work in another locality. A rigid uniformity would prove a serious hindrance. It is increasingly recognized that a local church must reflect its community if it expects to reach and engage the unchurched. The mission of the Church is to spread the gospel and make disciples of all people groups, not to propagate a particular ecclesiastical culture.
Liturgical books like all other thought should be subjected to Scripture and the Articles and where in primary matters they do not conform to Scripture and the Articles, they should be revised or interpreted in a way that conforms to Scripture and the Articles. They should not be made a church’s principal standard for doctrine. One of the functions of the Articles is to provide the doctrinal standards by which liturgical books are interpreted. The Articles derive their authority from Scripture. They bind our consciences where they themselves are agreeable to Scripture.
My biggest gripe with liturgical books is the way that they are used. Liturgical books are human creations. Consequently, they have their strengths and limitations. Some drawbacks are worse than others. We should be mindful of their flaws and imperfections and not be slavish in our use of them.
The rites and services of the liturgical book that a local church uses should be tailored to the particular circumstances of the church. This mean shortening services and omitting superfluous components when it is necessary. It does not mean reading the entire service every Sunday, including the optional components that may be omitted, because that is what is printed in the liturgical book that we are using. Church services are not magical rites that if we leave out one word or use it in the wrong place, the service will not accomplish what it is supposed to do.
If we have a proclivity for tediously long, boring services, we should not be surprised if the older congregants fall asleep, the younger ones play games on their phones, and visitors do not come back for a second visit. I recall one Palm Sunday service several years ago when the blessing of the palms and the procession with the palms was longer than the Holy Communion service that followed. All that was needed was a short prayer over the palms. It was spring. The service could have been held outdoors on the church’s front lawn in full view of the neighborhood. The procession with palms could have served as the entrance procession and “All glory, laud, and honor” as the entrance hymn. The service would have conveyed to the neighborhood the message that the congregation is alive and kicking and invites its neighbors to join it for Sunday worship. It was a missed opportunity.
Our services should not be like a long family road trip during which everyone is groaning inwardly, “Are we there yet?!” “Are we there yet?!” While the purpose of our Sunday worship is not to entertain, it is also not to bore congregants and guests to death. I have sat through a number of sermons where I had to resist the desire to stretch out on the pew and go to sleep. The sermon was full of extraneous details and theorizing that did nothing to propel the sermon on its way. The preacher missed several opportunities to “land the plane,” to bring the sermon to a conclusion. I have been tempted to wear a sandwich board to church with “Less Is More!!” written in large, bold letters on each side. Some clergy have a talent for dragging out a service far too long, a talent that does not serve the local church well.
To my mind an important consideration in evaluating a liturgical book that a local church is using is whether its use helps to form and nurture the church in being church to its neighborhood or community. This may outweigh its drawbacks.
If we are to be church to our neighborhood or to our community in this century, we need to study the time in which we are living. We need to take seriously being church in our time, not being church in a bygone era. In the sixteenth century clergy stood at the north side of the table primarily so that they could be seen and heard. The table was placed in the midst of the people, not against a wall except when it was not in use. In our time we may adopt a different position. The important thing is what we are saying is heard and what we are doing is seen. What matters is not the practice itself but the underlying principle.
Aping how a past generation did church misses the point. It sets up a competing standard for doctrine and worship to that of the Articles of Religion, a standard that is much narrower than the Articles’. As long as our a local church’s worship, life, and ministry falls within the broad evangelical comprehensiveness of the Articles, it does not matter where we stand or what we wear. Churchmanship and confessionalism are not the same thing. We should not confuse the two.
No comments:
Post a Comment