Outstanding argument in support of the new North American province

Not, perhaps, from the source you would expect ... hat-tip to Thinking Anglicans for the link. An excerpt from an article by George Clifford:

"Until two weeks ago, I strongly advocated the Anglican Communion refusing to establish a new province in North America and mandating that provinces cease violating provincial boundaries by conducting ministries or establishing congregations within the Episcopal Church’s jurisdiction.

Then I read that the Episcopal Church had spent in excess of $1.9 million in 2008 on lawsuits connected to the departure of parishes and dioceses from this Church. Daily I read about critical needs for healthcare, food, sanitation, and shelter in the United States and abroad. I see the spiritual illness and death that afflict so many. I remember that Anglicans have wisely never claimed to be the only branch of the Christian Church.

I started to wonder, Was I wrong? Why not another North American province?

Geographic boundaries, I realized, are not as sacrosanct as we who value tradition might wish they were. Within the Anglican Communion, geography has historically defined provinces and dioceses. The same is true of Anglican parishes in England, although not in most other provinces. Yet nowhere in Scripture can one find a God-given plan for the organization of parishes, dioceses, and provinces. Indeed, the whole concept of provinces seems extra-biblical. The geographic model for parishes and dioceses emerged naturally because of physical proximity, administrative practicality, and political identity."

Read here for the remainder

An overpowering bleakness

When will the madness end and the terror be over?

Cricket is pretty important to me, but does not make many appearances on this blog! There is a great site called Cricinfo which enables me to keep up with scores in matches all over the world, and to read some great cricket writing. The site's editor is Sambit Bal. Here's an excerpt from a piece he has written on the terror in Mumbai:

"I was on the streets of Bombay covering the communal riots in 1992, and the serial bomb blasts in 1993. I have seen a mob with swords chase a man and sever his arm from his body; I have seen rioters set an old man alight after garlanding him with car tyres; and I have faced the prospect of being burnt alive myself. For days I left home kissing my small child goodbye with thoughts of the worst. Those days return to haunt me sometimes even today.

But somehow I felt I understood what was happening then. I couldn't relate to it, but I understood the thirst for retaliation and revenge, the hatred and the frenzy that temporarily consumed ordinary people. I even wondered about a foreseeable future when I could sit down with some of the rioters and talk about what drove them to such madness.

But this is simply beyond my comprehension. Every time I see the photograph of the young man - who looks not a lot older than my son - dressed in jeans and t-shirt, carrying a machine gun as casually as he does the satchel over his shoulder, bearing a sinister glee in his eyes, I am reminded of Barack Obama's words about the killers of 9/11: "My powers of empathy, my ability to reach into another's heart, cannot penetrate the blank stares of those who would murder innocents with such serene satisfaction." "

Read all of it - no knowledge of cricket required, just love for humanity!

PS Followers of NZ cricket generally have some insight into Sambit Bal's theme, An Overpowering Bleakness.

Hooker's purple prose

Every so often I dip into Richard Hooker's Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity. He is good for the soul, especially one's Anglican soul, bracing up flagging spirits with faultless logic and penetrating insight into God's holy mysteries.

In the midst of a section in which he elucidates the understanding of Anglican eucharist, steering a clear path through the challenges of Lutheran, Roman and other understandings he says these things in such a manner as ranks him 'up there' with the greatest of writers in the English language.

'... they saw their Lord and Master with hands and eyes lifted up to heaven first bless and consecrate for the endless good of all generations till the world's end the chosen elements of bread and wine, which elements made for ever the instruments of life by virtue of his divine benediction ... They had at that time a sea of comfort and joy to wade in, and we by that which they did are taught that this heavenly food is given for the satisfying of our empty souls, and not for the exercising of our curious and subtile wits.' (5.67.4)

Benedict edges Rome closer to Anglicanism

Work it out for yourselves whether rapprochement between Rome and Canterbury is closer following this report in the NY Times:

VATICAN CITY — Pope Benedict XVI may change the sequence of the Catholic Mass, including the sign of peace exchanged between worshippers, in order "to create a more meditative climate" of worship, a senior Vatican official said.

Cardinal Francis Arinze said the pope had asked all bishops for their views on whether the sign of peace, which is currently shared before Communion, should be moved to an earlier point in the Mass.

Arinze, who heads the Vatican body in charge of liturgy and sacraments, made the announcement in the Saturday (Nov. 22) edition of the Vatican newspaper L'Osservatore Romano.

"The meaning of this gesture is often not fully understood," Arinze told an interviewer. "It is thought to be a chance to shake hands with friends. Instead it is a way to tell those nearby that the peace of Christ, really present on the altar, is also with all men."

Under the contemplated change, Arinze said, the sign of peace would instead take place at the "offering of the gifts" when the Eucharistic bread and wine is brought forward.

Pope Benedict has more than once expressed concern about the disruptive potential of the sign of peace when performed in an inappropriate fashion.

In a 2007 document, he called for "greater restraint in this gesture which can become exaggerated and cause a certain distraction in the assembly before the reception of Communion."

Arinze gave no indication of when Benedict might decide on the possible change. [END]

We all know that night follows day, and summer follows spring. The prophetic foresight within me sees validation of the content of our Anglican liturgies following this acceptance of our liturgical order. Validation of our ministerial orders is just around the corner ...

Is the Anglican Communion a church?

I guess until recently my mind was a little hazy about whether the Anglican Communion is a church or not. I think I would have said 'yes, of course, it's the worldwide Anglican church.' But increasingly I realise this is not so. (Yes, some of my friends would remind me that they pointed this out to me ages ago)! The Communion is a fellowship of Anglican churches. Each of these churches has a constitution and a governance structure, including a means of securing legally binding decisions around matters of discipline and doctrine. Each of these churches thus has the means of being a church in the sense of Article 19, 'The visible Church of Christ is a congregation of faithful men, in the which the pure Word of God is preached, and the Sacraments be duly ministered according to Christ's ordinance in all those things that of necessity are requisite to the same.' That is, the constitution, governance structure and means of securing legally binding decisions around matters of discipline and doctrine ensure that each Anglican church preaches the 'pure Word of God' and duly ministers the Sacraments, albeit according to the understanding of each church.

But the Anglican Communion has no constitution, governance structure and means of securing a legally binding decision. It has the semblance of a constitution and governance structure through its 'Instruments of Communion', at least to the extent that individual member churches of the Communion comply with the lead of the Instruments. But it has no means of legally binding any member church (let alone individual Anglican). So in the end the Communion cannot ensure that the pure Word of God is preached (having no means of declaring authoritatively what an impure Word might be) and the Sacraments duly ministered. It is not a church though it might reasonably be called an ecclesial community or ecclesial body.

The push towards a Covenant is, ultimately, a pressing of the question, Will we become a (world) church? And that question inevitably raises the question of authority: who will be our governors? Those agin such governors readily put the question, 'Oh, so we are going to have a Curia, are we?' Useful to invoke our anti-Roman Catholic heritage when it serves us!

Its been very painful to have to consider these questions in the last decade, but, in hindsight its easy to see that the questions needed to be put at some point. A generally expanding Church of England on the back of colonialism with a series of ad hoc decisions along the way about setting up Synods not subservient to the British Parliament and appointing bishops not signed off by the British monarch, along with a series of fortunate developments such as the Lambeth Conference, and a huge amount of goodwill have taken us so far ... but they have not established a world Anglican church.

Do we want to become a worldwide church?

That's not an easy question to answer. But if we either say 'no' or put off answering, then there are some consequences. First we simply have to accept as beyond legal redress, the 'provincialism' which has led the Diocese of New Hampshire with the support of TEC in one direction and the Diocese of Sydney in another in respect of previously unchallenged aspects of Anglican order (i.e. on the one hand that bishops will be celibate or married; on the other that only priests and bishops will preside at communion). Secondly, there will be ongoing competition by different groupings within the Communion (and beyond it) to assert either 'we are the best expression of Anglicanism' or 'we are the true expression of Anglicanism'. Thirdly, there is no reason not to accept the right of two or more Anglican churches to exist in the same territory. Neither is accountable to some higher Anglican world authority; each may enter into fellowship with other Anglican churches as is mutually agreeable; each may claim to be the 'best' or the 'true' expression of Anglicanism - the sole judge with any kind of authority will be the popular following they gain. Indeed each may be valued by the wider Communion as valuable expressions of Anglican characteristics otherwise submerged if contained within one Anglican church.

But the hardest to measure consequence will be to the mission of God in the world. Will it be helped or hindered by the Anglican Communion not becoming a church?

Finally, if we do not become a church, it is by no means guaranteed that the Anglican Communion will continue more or less as it is. The inauguration in early December of a new province for North America will pose a very sharp challenge. Will the Archbishop of Canterbury recognise this new province? If he does there may be an eruptive reaction from TEC; if he does not there may be a (complete) loss of confidence in the office of Canterbury by GAFCON and Global South churches. How does the Anglican Communion proceed if (say) half its provinces recognise the new province and half do not? It may be able to live with the ambiguity (a specialist Anglican trait)! But it could prove to be a bridge too far in attempting to join the disparate streams of Anglicanism together.

Jensen on ministry of word and sacrament

To be fair to the Diocese of Sydney re some recent postings here by me (and some comments elsewhere) it is important to keep reading and thinking about the issue of lay presidency from all sides. Here is an excerpt from a longer address by Archbishop Peter Jensen:

"It is commonly suggested that the development of lay administration of the Holy Communion is contrary to the very being of Anglicanism. Certainly it would have to be agreed that non-priestly administration would be quite contrary to some expressions of Anglicanism. But the assertion that it is contrary to the ethos of the Anglican Church really speaks for one side of the Church only. It suggests that one particular view of priesthood and of communion, and one only, is of the essence of the Eucharistic theology. Without going into the question of whether there is only one valid opinion, it is empirically true that at least two views have been evident in the Church for a very long time. According to the thinking of one such view, lay administration is impossible. Accordingly to the other view it is possible, although opinions differ as to whether it is advisable. From my point of view, the second opinion is a genuine and legitimate development of the theology of the Book of Common Prayer and the 39 Articles. Admittedly, however, that depends on your reading of Anglican history.

The magisterial biography of Cranmer by Diarmaid MacCulloch locates our great Archbishop thus:

‘Standing as he did in the developed Reformed tradition of Europe in the 1550s Cranmer’s conception of a “middle way” or via media in religion was quite different from that of later Anglicanism. In the nineteenth century, when the word “Anglicanism” first came into common use, John Henry Newman said of the middle way (before his departure for the Church of Rome) that “a number of distinct notions are included in the notion of Protestantism; and as to all these our Church has taken a Via Media between it and Popery.” Cranmer would violently have rejected such a notion: how could one have a middle way between truth and Antichrist? The middle ground which he sought was the same as Bucer’s: an agreement between Wittenberg and Zurich which would provide a unified vision of Christian doctrine against the counterfeit being refurbished at the Council of Trent. For him, Catholicism was to be found in the scattered churches of the Reformation, and it was his aim to show forth their unity to prove their Catholicity.” (617).

As far as the Eucharist is concerned, he identifies the mature Cranmer with a variety of Reformed theology which he labels (following B A Gerrish), ‘symbolic parallelism’. He quotes the Archbishop:

‘And although Christ be not corporally in the bread and wine, yet Christ used not so many words, in the mystery of his holy supper, without effectual signification. For he is effectually present, and effectually worketh not in the bread and wine, but in the godly receivers of them, to whom he giveth his own flesh spiritually to feed upon, and his own blood to quench their great inward thirst’ (614-15).

In Cranmer’s thought, the word of God is that which gives the sacrament its power and substance, and this in its turn shapes the ordinal. Word and sacrament belong indissolubly together, and that is why it is reserved to the priest who is the preacher, indeed, the priest who is ordained to be the pastor of the congregation, the one responsible for ‘the cure of souls’.

The question of who administers Holy Communion is one of order: ‘As in a prince’s house the offices and ministers prepare the table, and yet other as well as they, eat the meat and drink he drink; so the priests and ministers prepare the Lord’s supper, read the gospel, and rehearse Christ’s words, but all the people say thereto, Amen. All remember Christ’s death, all give thanks to God, all repent and offer themselves an oblation to Christ, all take him as their Lord and Saviour, and spiritually feed upon him, and in token thereof they eat the bread and drink the wine in his mystical supper’ (Cranmer, 350).

Holy Communion is not a priestly act as such, but an ecclesial one. This is the significance of the absence of any direction about who is to celebrate the Lord’s Supper in the New Testament. The Eucharist is an activity of the whole congregation; the Lord himself is the focus as he was in the Last Supper; We focus on the priest, Cranmer on the congregation; we focus on the elements, Cranmer on the eating and drinking; we think of Christ coming to us, Cranmer thinks of us going to Christ in the lifting up of our hearts.

Our understanding of the BCP ordinal is that it grants recognition and authority to those who are ordained priest by the Bishop to exercise a pastoral – as opposed to a sacerdotal - ministry of word and sacrament in a community setting. That is to say, the role of incumbent, of the cure of souls is the end to which the service points, although priesthood may be exercised as an assistant, and it may be exercised across parish and Diocesan boundaries. This also reflects the first hundreds of years of Christian leadership, where ordination was not thought of as a priestly mediating ministry, arising from an ontological change, but a ministry arising from the community:
‘We may therefore conclude that a situation in which a community was unable to celebrate the Eucharist because there was no bishop or presbyter present was unthinkable in the early Church…On the basis of the right of the community to the Eucharist, the leader of the community also had the right to lead in the Eucharist…If there is no leader, it chooses a suitable candidate from its own ranks.’
(Edward Schillebeecx). In other words, priesthood must be understood in connection with the Christian community which is being served."

The link to the full address is part of a whole web page developed by the Diocese of Sydney called 'Whose Supper?'

There is a lot to be discussed here but, causa brevitatis, I will confine myself to a few observations!

(i) there are undoubtedly merits to the Jensen case: notwithstanding the non-equivalence of the ministry of the word and of the sacrament, there is no doubting the Cranmerian concern to keep the two ministries close together, and thus permitting lay people to preach raises a real and serious question of why lay people may not preside.
(ii) attendance at a Roman Mass yesterday reminded me of one response: that we (like the Romans at eucharistic services) only permit priests to preach!
(iii) I do not see any recognition of what it might mean to be part of the Anglican community (noting the emphasis on 'community' at the end of the excerpt): being part of that community might mean those keen on lay presidency constrain desire for it out of love for our anglo-catholic brothers and sisters. A similar point is made by acknowledging that although in theory the Cranmerian via media between Geneva and Wittenburg might have led to lay presidency, in practice it did not: the path of Anglican history led away from it and not towards it and thus the 'order' of our ministry became fixed around priestly presiding, even as it became flexible around preaching.
(iv) the argument for lay presidency is framed as an argument against a sacerdotal priesthood, but (I suggest) it is unaware of a (presumably) unintended consequence, that the point of a separate ordained priesthood is undermined. In its place would develop a (kind of) licensed priesthood (i.e. licensed lay presiders).

I appreciate that Archbishop Peter Jensen here puts forward a theological argument for lay presidency which can be considered on its merits, out of context of other Anglican matters. But when we look at the context of other Anglican matters, and observe that essentially only one diocese in the world is pushing publicly for lay presidency, the question arises about the nature of Anglican structures: are provinces and dioceses able to decide matters germane to core characteristics of being Anglican without reference to the wider Anglican church? If Sydney seeks an affirmative answer to that question then I struggle (as a fellow conservative) to see how that answer cannot also apply to (e.g.) TEC approving Gene Robinson's consecration or New Westminster approving liturgical blessing of same sex partnerships. (This point, please note, does not involve the fallacy of equating a moral issue with a non-moral issue. It involves the observation that in different places Anglican local authorities are seeking to vary accepted Anglican order.)

Battling for the soul of Anglicanism

Here is a taster from a larger - technically demanding - article by eminent British historian Jonathan Clark in the Church Times:

"CONTROL of the Reformation means control of a commanding height of the historical economy. The early Reformation continues to be a battleground, and the polarity between Diarmaid MacCulloch and Eamon Duffy seems on the surface to reassert an older conflict of opposites. Yet, when examined more closely, the two are saying similar things.

Professor Duffy presents a deeply Roman Catholic populace on whom the Reformation was imposed. Pro fessor MacCulloch explains how far-reaching were the intentions of early Refor mers, especially Cranmer, and emphasises the extent of the transfor mation they effected. Both argue for a radical discontinuity, and, by implication, for a wholly new Church.

Yet, arguably, Professor MacCul loch has won: many more Anglicans now see the Reformation as a new departure, a licence to pursue a per son al spiritual pilgrimage, uncon strained by scripture or tradition.
Two generations of historians, from Patrick Collinson to Peter Lake, have argued for the deeply Calvinist nature of the later Reformation and the Church it created. Professor Collinson has termed the idea of the Church of England’s treading a via media a “persistent myth”.

This interpretation leads naturally to the Civil Wars, now widely viewed — thanks especially to John Morrill — as wars of religion, triggered by militant sectarianism. This moves the 1640s away from the old secular story of parliamentary liberty defended and vindicated, into a lurid scene of bigotry and fanaticism: many 17th-century Anglicans seem to have had much in common with the Scots Covenanters.
Two English literary figures have been displaced in the opposite direction. Most controv ersially, Wil­liam Shakespeare has been presented as a covert recusant or “Church Pap ist”; Samuel Johnson has been depic ted as a Nonjuror. If so, the Church of England has lost two of its greatest icons.

From being loyal, patriotic, deeply English (and so, by implication, sound churchmen), they now stand to some degree outside English society in their day, offering coded critiques of it. The more that figures of this calibre aff irmed alternatives, the less Anglican ism looks like the natural, timeless bedrock of national consciousness and character it once seemed.

TRUE, much was restored in 1660, and the continuum that lasted into the early 19th century now appears as one characterised by the long-delayed intellectual hegemony of the Church. It was the era of sound scholarship, especially patristics, the clergy of the Church of England deservedly win­ning the accolade stupor mundi. But this formidable intellectual and social foundation was broken down, begin ning in the 1830s. Why?

Political historians have illumin ated Protestant Nonconformity’s part in swamping an Anglican hegemony in 1828-32. Anglo-Catholicism now seems more a political response to this social bloc than a plausible assertion of a powerful Catholic strand within the Church of England. Increasingly, 19th-century liberal ism looks like Nonconformity mobil ised for action, a challenge to which the Church of England failed adequately to reply.

Peter Nockles’s influential account has recast the Oxford Movement. From being an expression of the continuity of a Catholic element in Anglicanism, the Tractarians are now presented as indebted to pre-Tractarian High Churchmen, reas serting key elements of their hege mony of c.1660-1832. It all looks less securely Catholic, and more political.

Appropriately, there has been renewed interest in John Henry Newman from scholars such as Ian Ker and Sheridan Gilley.

Historians have emphasised the emergence of parties within the 19th-century Church of England, and the lasting importance of this dynamic; but High Church, liberal, and Low Church or Evangelical parties now seem locked in a civil war that gravely damaged each party rather than ex pressing a happy pluralism."

For more views/responses go to Thinking Anglicans for links.