Maybe Two (or more) Churches of England?

General Synod of rhe Church of England is meeing this week, and it is forcing them finally to begin to address the fact that there have been two Churches of England for a while now. It is a bit like acknowledging that a couple have been pretending their marriage isn't at an end. This is understandable because the awfulness of admitting to the death of a marriage may be as awful as trying to keep up appearances. Much depends upon the reason for maintaining the appearance: is it for the sake of the public, or of the children? 

This might be a way to look at the current woe in the Church of England. The real "communion" of the Church, both internally and in its wider connections (Anglican and otherwise) — in the terms one uses for determining communion between differing church traditions: mutual recognition of ministers — was severed over the ordination of women (particularly to the episcopate) and an arrangement with what amounts to separate bedrooms (to extend the marital analogy) has kept up appearances of unity to some degree; though the joins begin to show at consecrations of bishops with various combinations of people participating — or not — in laying on of hands.

But it was only and ever an appearance; communion was and is severed; and now, it seems, we are talking about acknowledging the breach with a real divorce, and deciding the terms of who gets the silverware — perhaps literally. It is time for those on both sides of the divide to sit down and take this seriously. It is a pity that optimistic progressives failed to take full note of the conservative position that these were church-dividing issues. So they were, and are.

— Tobias Stanislas Haller

What is an Anglican?

It strikes me that there are two meanings of Anglican, as it is commonly used. It can be understood as a tradition with certain characteristics derived from a historical reality (I assayed an essay on what I think the central characteristics are a decade ago in The Anglican Triad), or more formally as the fellowship of churches in communion with the See of Canterbury, members of the Anglican Consultative Council -- there is a list of membership one can look up. By analogy, one could say that some of the "independent" catholic churches are "catholic" but not officially so from the perspective of Rome, which does recognize a number of non-Latin churches as directly relating to it, but not these "independent" bodies. In the looser sense of heritage, one could say that the Methodists are part of the Anglican tradition, and but for some accidents of history, might still be so formally, and yet may!

The problem with ACNA, as I see it, is that they violate one of the key principles that are a part of that Anglican (and indeed catholic) heritage that I laid out in the essay linked above -- the geographical and canonical notion that there should only be one Anglican jurisdiction in any one place. But neither is ACNA an official member of the Communion (in spite of their recognition by some member churches who say they are in communion with them; but the same can be said of, say the ELCA: with whom TEC is in communion, but that communion with them renders them neither Anglican nor members of the Anglican Communion. The same is true of Porvoo churches in relation to England.)

On the one-church-in-a-location issue, I think that, for a time, the "state" was a good balance point for Anglicanism, reflecting as well the settlement in Europe of cuius regio eius religio -- but that this worked best in an established church, which was the case at the time. The lack of establishment across most of the Anglican Communion today, and the increase in means of communication, have made the "national" ideal much more difficult to maintain, as people have less sense of a legal restriction (though it is still an active canonical principle) and the concept of a network is replacing that of either a pyramid or a hub-and-spoke. That doesn't mean I don't still think the nation or region to be an ideal in Anglicanism, but it may be one whose time has passed.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

Why the Church?

The "deep magic" of the Church, the great mystery outlined in Ephesians as existing from before the foundation of the world, is the mystery of Unity. It is at the heart of the mystery of God the Three in One. It is reflected in the cosmos that God created in all its multiplicity, coming back into unity in Christ, with the Church being the initial beneficiary of the Incarnation (the reunion of Divinity and Humanity in one Person). If the Church is incapable of exercising its underlying unity in spite of jurisdictional divisions, it has failed in the One Task for which it exists -- as the growing edge of the emergent New Creation, the Body of Christ in which all things in heaven and on earth become One, even as God is One.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

One means one

I'm getting a tad annoyed at people talking about "organic unity" when they mean "institutional unity." When I say, in the words of the Nicene Creed every week, that I believe the church to be "one holy catholic and apostolic" I mean every word. There is one church of Christ, made up in an organic union of all baptized persons with Christ as its Head. This is the official teaching (doctrine) of the Episcopal Church, and can be found in the Catechism on page 854 of the BCP.

There is one church. All of the disagreements with this doctrine are either from those who think there is more than one church, or that they constitute the only one true church, or who have confused institutional structure with ontological substance.

This is not to say that the institutional is unimportant; but it is best put in perspective. Any institution built on a foundation other than Unity In Christ will not long stand. Whether there needs to be — or ever has been or ever will be — a single institutional church coequal with the Body of Christ; or whether that foundation is wide and broad enough to support a number of more or less independent and autonomous structures, cooperating in various ways as the Spirit empowers them: these are questions the answers to which seem to me to be glaringly obvious.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

Reality Cheque

President Koch of the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity says that Protestants have forsaken true ecumenism by not holding out for true, visible unity. By which, of course, he means institutional unity.

Well, as the policeman said, "Move along, nothing to look at here." This has always been the Roman model for ecumenism — as the church, in the view from the Vatican Hill, is officially defined as subsisting in that hierarchy of bishops in communion with the pope. The idea of independently governed churches being in communion with each other but answerable to no higher-level administration is simply foreign to their way of thinking. (And apparently some Anglicans find it hard to grasp, too!)

The proverb is true, and to be believed: When all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG
h/t Episcopal Café

When the Benefit is the Cost

In good Jesuit fashion, I have been trying over the last couple of years to think through the cost/benefit ratio presented by the Anglican Covenant, and the prospect of The Episcopal Church signing it. To put it bluntly, it seems to me that its only conceivable benefits correspond exactly to its costs. In response to the old legal question cui bono? a voice cries out, Nemo.

Let me be more specific: the two most widely cited benefits of the Anglican Covenant are, first, to be able to speak in ecumenical dialogues with a unified voice; and, second, to be able to avoid controversy through a mechanism designed to generate consensus. I submit that both of these urged (and related) goods come at the cost of equally weighty (and twinned) evils.

As far as ecumenical dialogue goes, there is already sufficient univocality in the Anglican Communion on issues of creed and doctrine. The same can be said for most of Christendom, with the exception of some churches’ parochial dogmas. As we all know it is primarily the form of church government that creates most divisions between churches, especially as to who is in charge. All current divisions within Anglicanism, largely over matters of pastoral or moral theology — ordination and marriage — are also present in the wider ecumenical sphere. What is more, a number of our active ecumenical (or even closer) partners tend to share TEC's more innovative position. The same can be said of the churches of Porvoo. Are they the Chopped Liver of Ecumenism?

But to get back to the cost/benefit: the only way to speak with a single voice on these very matters would be for the Communion to abandon its actual identity as a chorus of voices singing in parts, and put on the identity of a monophonic choir. Now, I enjoy Gregorian Chant as much as the next monk, but the Anglican Communion, in spite of the significant role Gregory played in its creation, isn’t really all that good at singing in unison (except on the minima hammered out in the Reformation and Elizabethan Settlement) but is rather good at polyphony, rich with the cultures of many nations and tongues. Is it worth giving up our actual richness in order to please — whom, exactly? And will it please them? And whom do we offend in the process, such as all of those ecumenical partners who are already actually working with us?

The second evil is related: as the process laid out in part four of the Anglican Covenant, however attenuated since its teeth were pulled from the text in the revision process, retains a subtext of coercion as a means to consensus — coming to agreement by attrition, picking off the voices in a parody of the Farewell Symphony. Again, we stand to lose the very richness and variety that form such a characteristic element in Anglican identity — particularly the freedom in matters of rites and ceremonies, which, the last time I looked, appears to cover ordination and marriage.

Is it worth replacing the full-course banquet that is Anglicanism with such a mess of pottage? In the long run, the question remains, What does it profit the Anglican Communion to become a whole-world-church at the cost of its soul?

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

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There’s No Place Like Rome...

The news appears adequately to have been aired abroad, but in case you haven't heard, the Vatican has issued an Apostolic Constitution providing an expedited course for Anglicans who want to become Roman Catholic en masse and retain some of their distinctively Anglican liturgy — and clergy. There are scads of links to various reactions at Thinking Anglicans and Episcopal Café. I've not yet found a link to, and hence have not read, the actual document in question, so my comments at this point are provisional. But in the best spirit of modern journalism, I do have a few general observations, and the facts can always be dealt with retroactively.

In spite of the press coverage and the cries of alarm or celebration in some circles, this "hydrofoil across the Tiber" is not an entirely new thing. In the United States at least, congregations along with their priests have occasionally made a transition to being Anglican Use Roman Catholics. The present offer seems closer to a Uniate arrangement, rather more ordinary than exceptional, with a tad more polish than the usual slightly used congregation.

Although married male priests appear to be part of this proposal, it doesn't appear that married male bishops are going to be allowed. That, it seems to me, will thin the flow of the exodus somewhat, at least the purple end of the pond. It also seems very likely that reordination or at least conditional ordination will be required for the priests (and deacons).

Some have wondered at Rowan Williams’ apparent calm acceptance of this new phenomenon. It appears he was not aware it was in the offing. This is strange since the proposal from the "Traditional Anglican Communion" has been talked about for some years, and it appears that the Vatican’s response, although it may seem sudden to the unprepared, is really not all that startling if you've paid close attention to what they've been saying about Anglicans over the last decade or so. Which is to say, as always, “The light is still on and you are always welcome to come home.”

I think three things may factor into the Archbishop's relatively calm response: First, what's he supposed to do? Second, this may well thin the ranks of some of the more forceful and tiresome opponents of the ordination of women to the episcopate, and obviate the need for the dehumanizing (and rather “federated”) scheme currently on the table in the Church of England. Third, he may finally have experienced the sobering reality that dialogue with Rome always has been in truth a one-sided exercise.

More can, and no doubt will, be said before long. I look forward to seeing the actual text of the official document. In the meantime, I imagine many of the most Romeward-looking Anglican clergy are now considering if they are willing to put their stipend where their mouth is, and do what they've so often said they would do if only they could. As Dorothy learned, of course, they always had the power to do so, as indeed many had, individually, before them. Just click the heels of the ruby slippers three times and say, "There's no place like Rome; there's no place like Rome; there's no place like..." And Anglicanism they will say, was just a colorful dream populated with familiar figures.

May they find peace in their new abode. I prefer this side of the Tiber Rainbow.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

Peter Feeds His Sheep

Bishop Peter Selby has presented a superb reality check — bracing as a brisk Beaufort five — in response to the Archbishop of Canterbury's post-General Convention reflection. (I have to admit that the publication of such essays as Selby’s delay my own response, as I find words and ideas preempted and stated better than I could hope.)

In any case, it seems to me that Bishop Peter expertly demythologizes three of the primary myths of the Rowanian Mythos (the Rowanogion?):

• that merely deploring homophobia functions as a talisman or prophylactic against performing homophobia
• that mutual recognition and consensus lie at the heart of communion, as opposed to communion being the safe context in which disagreement can exist because of mutual love and respect, and as a consequence of this supposedly necessary consensus
  
• that it is necessary for the Anglican Communion to be able to speak with a single voice in its relations with other traditions, churches, and communions

Bishop Peter ably deconstructs these highly questionable propositions, and gently (in that British self-effacing way) reveals them for the half-truths they are. I will only at this point add to the undermining of the third by noting that The Episcopal Church has been quite capable of undertaking significant ecumenical dialogues apart from any supposed universal Anglican Teaching — with the Lutherans and the Moravians. (And does Rowan really believe that dialogue with Rome is anything other than what it has always been — and that whether Anglicans speak with one voice or not is immaterial, as the rock against which all such ventures run aground is the heir of that other Peter? Any or all Anglicans makes no difference, if they cannot submit to Petrine doctrinal and ecclesiastical supremacy. That is a defining teaching of the Roman Catholic Church, and she is not about to bend on such a fundamental doctrine crucial to her identity. The current incumbent of Peter's Chair has been very clear that doctrinal uniformity is central to the Roman notion of what it means to be a church. Anglicans adopting the same principle — contrary to our history and ecclesiology — will be of no avail to-Rome-wards if the doctrines themselves differ in detail.)

Meanwhile, some, perhaps correctly, see Bishop Peter's comments as aimed at the proposed Anglican Covenant. I see them more as addressing concern over "the Covenant via Rowan" — that is, not the Covenant as a text delivered as it were de novo but rather one that has emerged from a process so full of spin and intention, in particular from some of the authors of the earlier drafts, that it will never be free of spin and second guessing, under hermeneutics of deeply suspicious pedigree. However much persons such as I might want to see the Covenant as a way to hang together, and work through our differences, this may not be possible. The "our" is in my mind the set of those who can tolerate differences of opinion and continue to work together. Others (such as the ACI+Wright) want the consensus first, so that only those who already agree about everything important will be in this new and peaceable communion. This is where Selby's concerns about "two tracks" come in: for if consensus is to be the Shibboleth for admission to the Covenanted Communion, what really is the point? Likemindedness, mutual recognition, uniformity, univocality -- these are all very nice things, but as Iris Murdoch reminded us, there is a huge gap between the Nice and the Good.

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

William Reed Huntington

Today is the transferred feast of William Reed Huntington, the 99th anniversary of his death. He was renowned for a number of his writings and his patience as a pastor and teacher. Perhaps best known as the creator of the Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral, he was an optimist about the possibilities of the church holding varying views together in dynamic tension. I don't know what he would say about our present state of affairs, other than to deplore the divisions and to appeal for unity in spite of differences of opinion. Here is a brief passage from his 1891 book, Popular Misconceptions of the Episcopal Church, from the chapter, "That it is a house divided against itself..."

The great need of American Christianity is unification. The civil system of the country has been so knit together that we are able proudly to declare it "an indestructible Union of the indestructible States." Our commercial system also has become so completely welded, part with part, as to defy breakage. It is in the ecclesiastical system alone that we note the mortifying lines of fracture. One people as respects the administration of law, one people as respects the transaction of business, we are still many peoples as respects the endeavor to win supremacy for the faith of Christ. In religion, disintegration is our curse.

The new consciousness beginning to dawn in the heart and mind of the Episcopal Church is the consciousness of a special call to play an intercessory and mediatorial part in the needed work of a general reconciliation. What makes it possible for an Episcopalian to take this line of remark, without subjecting himself to any just charge of arrogance, is the fact that he bases his peace-making effort wholly upon historical, and not at all upon personal grounds. He does not say, "Trust us as reconcilers because our ecclesiastics are so much more astute, our theologians so much more profound, and our communicant members so much more devout, than yours." He simply says: "Look at the history of Anglican religion, as a history, and judge for yourselves whether it do not give evidence of a greater power of inclusiveness, a more promising facility at comprehending a large variety of types, both of character and of action, than any rival system..."
. . . . .
The unity of which American Christians are in search is a "live and let live" unity. They perceive that the shutting-out policy is what has brought us to our present broken estate. What they are reaching after is the Church that shall be intolerant of these two things, and of only these two things — first, wickedness; secondly, the denial of what is confessedly central to the faith. Purity of character, as estimated by the ethical standards of the New Testament; purity of belief, as tested by the primitive Creeds — these are the only points upon which a united American Church would find it needful to insist.

But the overtures ventured by the Episcopal Church in the matter of unity are met with merciless ridicule, on the ground that the theological divergences and party differences within its own borders are so marked as to have become notorious. "Physician, heal thyself!" Is the not unnatural rejoinder of those to whom Churchmen address their affectionate invitations to reunion.

I propose to meet this rejoinder by taking the ground that it is the existence of these very divergences alleged, and the continuance of their existence within the Anglican Communion, that gives to that communion its best right to make a plea it does....

I hope at some point to post the entire essay. For now, especially in light of the Lambeth Conference now in session, this should provide us enough food for thought.

Tobias Haller BSG

Not near so much like a Communion

In the preceding post but one, Jane R made a comment about how difficult some people find it to understand that Anglicans do not form a single world-wide church under a single government, but rather a communion of self-governing churches.

This is certainly true in our relationship with Roman Catholics. I was reminded of the comments of a Cardinal some years back, who complained, I believe to Archbishop Runcie, that they never knew where they stood with Anglicans, because the Americans could go ahead and have women bishops while England didn't. "We don't know who we're talking to" he said, or words to that effect. The implication is that if only Anglicans could learn to be a bit more organized and centrally governed, they would be much easier for Rome to work with than they are at present.

In the context of the present disagreements about the chaotic nature of the Communion as a whole, and the development of a Covenant to give it a firmer and more cohesive form of — government is too strong a word — rational organization, in which I perceive the influence of certain Romeward impulses at a number of levels, I was reminded of this wonderful interchange from Pride and Prejudice, by the inimitable Jane Austen:

"I should like balls infinitely better," she replied, "if they were carried on in a different manner; but there is something insufferably tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It would surely be much more rational if conversation instead of dancing made the order of the day.''

"Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say, but it would not be near so much like a ball."

We could well continue to strive to bolster greater centrality in the organization and governance of the Anglican Communion, which might please the Roman Catholics and other Carolines of this world, giving them someone to converse with without the need for fancy footwork; and at the same time transform Lambeth from a gathering for fellowship and prayer into a Synodical Body for the Purpose of Settling Issues — both would be ever so much more rational, but then neither would be near so much like the Anglican Communion.

Tobias Haller BSG

Communion and Church

It became apparent in comments on two of my previous posts that one of our difficulties in carrying on reasonable discussion lies in the different meanings given to words we are wont to use quite a bit. These are church and communion. In both cases the words are used in an ideal and a real sense — and this creates some of the difficulties I outlined in an earlier essay on that subject.

Thus people can speak of the church as the Body of Christ, of which all the baptized are members; but we can also speak of the various churches and even the “national or particular churches” — to say nothing of our parish churches! I can speak of the communion-in-Christ that belongs, indelibly, to every Christian; while at the same time acknowledging that theological or doctrinal divisions can lead to ruptures in the day-to-day communion of one Christian body with another.

I was being quite consciously (and perhaps uncharacteristically) idealistic when, in that previous post, I noted that communion in Christ (based on baptism) is inviolable. That does not mean that I do not recognize the existence of the breaches between believers. What it does mean is that I hold it as an article of faith that our divisions are secondary to our unity. Our ecclesiastical unity is recoverable precisely because our divisions, however deeply felt, are superficial wounds: no part of the body is completely cut off, however tenuous the connection with the whole. It is not just that one part of the body ought not say to any other, “I have no need of you,” but that one part of the body really can not make that judgment. (1 Cor 12:21) However disagreeable we may become, we are stuck with each other. Divorce is not allowed.

Just as the lapsed or even the apostate are not rebaptized upon their return to the life of faith, so to, I firmly believe, our divisions can be healed without recourse to a fundamental re-invention. What we are called upon to do, in the spirit of the Lambeth Quadrilateral, is to focus upon the elements of our identity that we recognize in each other, and celebrate them as a basis for unity even if we continue to disagree about secondary concerns.

Obviously there are doctrinal differences among Anglicans of different traditions, and even greater differences between Anglicans in general and Roman Catholics or Presbyterians or Methodists in general. These differences are real, and I by no means wish to minimize them more than is necessary. What I do want to do is put them in their proper perspective and focus upon the articles of faith that we share and affirm — among which is the principal of the dignity of baptism as incorporation in the mystical body of Christ, the Church.

I would like to suggest a term for this Church of shreds and patches, which, like it or not is the Church of which we all are members. In the spirit of the Church Militant, the Church Expectant, and the Church Triumphant, I would like to suggest we recognize that we are the Church Dissonant. And, through God’s grace, may we work to decrease the dissonance and promote harmony.

Tobias Haller BSG

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Corrective Lenses

In light of some continued comments on the previous post, and some conversation on the House of Bishops/Deputies “list” I’d like to offer some additional observations on the recent pronouncement of the Roman Catholic Church’s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. I will put this in the form of a brief catechism, as that may be the easiest way to deal with the issues that have been raised by some of my friends and colleagues.

Why was this document composed and to whom is it primarily addressed?

This document was produced as an attempt to clarify the position of the Roman Catholic Church with regard to other Christian bodies. In the wake of Vatican II a number of theologians have expressed opinions with which the Congregation takes issue. As the introduction to the document states, “Among the many new contributions to the field, some are not immune from erroneous interpretation which in turn give rise to confusion and doubt.” So, in place of the rose-tinted spectacles that many ecumenists are wont to wear, the Congregation is presenting them with this short current document as a set of corrective lenses, designed to sharpen the focus and correct any misapprehensions they might have. Thus, to a substantial degree, it is an “in house” reminder; it sets out nothing new, but is intended to rein in the exuberant.

Do the Conciliar documents present a different view from the present document?

The present document was issued to clarify the Church’s position as expressed in the Council, which was itself seen as a “development and deepening” of the standing doctrine, not a novelty. The intent is that the former documents will be read through this clarifying lens, not the other way around. This is a long-standing principle in Roman Catholic legal thinking: The most recent statement is the governing statement in the light of which all that goes before must be interpreted; all the more so when the document in question describes itself in precisely those terms.

What then is the Roman Catholic understanding of the Church?

There is only one Church established by Christ, and it subsists in the visible Roman Catholic Church, “governed by the successor of Peter and the Bishops in communion with him.” Because of the divisions among those who profess Christianity, this “one Church” is not at present realized in its fullness, and so “subsists” in the Roman Catholic Church, towards which all reunion ought of right to be directed. It is possible to say that the Church is in some partial sense present in other ecclesial communities that are not at present so governed, because there are “elements of sanctification and truth” in them. But those very elements are designed to “impel” those other bodies towards visible unity with the one Church.

How has this been misunderstood?

Non-Roman Catholics, and some Roman Catholic ecumenists, have forgotten the underlying definition of the “one Church subsisting” and that whenever the Conciliar documents use the phrase “the Church” — as the present document reminds us — they are not talking, as we, for example, do, simply of the body of all the baptized, but of those among the baptized who are corporately united with the Roman Catholic Church. Thus all Conciliar language about “division among Christians” is not about division “in” the Church, but division “from” the Church. When “the Church finds it difficult” to express her full catholicity, it is the Roman Catholic Church which is impeded in this expression precisely because of the departure of her children, and the divisions between her and them — not because of any intrinsic lack in herself. She is where the one Church subsists, not anywhere else. Subsistence is not full realization, but it is all there is, at present.

Speaking of “lack,” what does the document mean about the “absence” of ministerial priesthood in the protestant traditions?

It is tempting to translate “defectum” as “defect” rather than absence; for the English word can have a rather different connotation (“something not quite working correctly”) than the Latin, which refers to a “lack” or “something missing.” For example, Roman Catholic ecumenist Susan Wood wrote, “Ecumenical discussions today raise the question whether in the light of a more developed understanding of the ministry, sacramental life, and ecclesiology, ‘defectus’ should continue to be translated as ‘lack’ rather than as ‘deficiency’ or ‘defect.’” (“Ecclesia De Eucharistia: A Roman Catholic Response,” in Pro Ecclesia, 12/4 [2003], 398)

The present document gives her an answer, “No.” By “defectum” the Roman Catholic Church means, as it always has, and as the present translation states, a lack or absence or “something missing.” If there were any doubt, the context of the present document is clear: There is no sacramental priesthood in the churches of the Reformation, and hence, they (including us) “have not preserved the genuine and integral substance of the Eucharistic Mystery...” This is contrasted with the Eastern Orthodox churches, who “have” a valid ministry, and hence sacraments, and are thus recognized as “churches” though they still “lack something” by not being united with the “one Church.”

What impact will this document have?

This document will no doubt have some chilling effect on the more exuberant among Roman Catholic ecumenists, as it was expressly designed to do. It will also dampen the hopes of those who had looked towards a more collegial model of church unity — one not based on papal primacy, but rather on a communion of communions. The present document is a reminder that even for the Eastern Orthodox, complete participation in that “one Church” will involve a recognition of Petrine centrality, and, more importantly, authority. The phrase “governed by the successor of Peter” is not used lightly. It represents a “constitutive principle” of a particular church, by means of which it is in relationship with the “one Church.”

How does this view differ from that of other Christian bodies?

The World Council of Churches deputy general secretary has released a statement in response to the Roman Catholic document, reaffirming a 2006 position adopted by the WCC at Porto Alegre: “Each church is the Church catholic and not simply a part of it. Each church is the Church catholic, but not the whole of it. Each church fulfils its catholicity when it is in communion with the other churches.” The WCC represents most Christian bodies in the world apart from the Roman Catholic Church.

The Anglican position can be well summed up by a few words from Richard Hooker, not unlike the Porto Alegre definition: “As the main body of the sea being one, yet within divers precincts hath divers names; so the Catholic Church is in like sort divided into a number of distinct Societies, every of which is termed a Church within itself.” (Laws III.1.14)

These positions are obviously not congruent with the Roman Catholic position, and none of these positions is likely to change in the foreseeable future.

Tobias Haller BSG

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Update

Be sure to check out a follow up article on What This Has To Do With Us (Anglicans.) There is more to this than meets the eye. — Tobias

Petrification

The Roman Catholic Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith has now made it abundantly clear that the Church means what it says when it says the Holy Catholic Church of Rome is the place in which the Church on earth "subsists."

The document includes a delicate nuance on what is is, and more importantly, is not, at least in distinction from "subsists."

Third Question: Why was the expression 'subsists in' adopted instead of the simple word 'is'?

Response: The use of this expression, which indicates the full identity of the Church of Christ with the Catholic Church, does not change the doctrine on the Church. Rather, it comes from and brings out more clearly the fact that there are 'numerous elements of sanctification and of truth' which are found outside her structure, but which 'as gifts properly belonging to the Church of Christ, impel towards Catholic Unity.'

Protestant bodies (including Anglicans and all "Christian Communities born out of the Reformation of the sixteenth century") are not proper "Churches," and aren't to be called such under this understanding. There is One Church, and it subsists in the entity with the successor of Peter at its head, and the Bishops in union with him. The rest of us must be content with the scattered "elements of sanctification and truth" we might have stowed in our baggage before we ran away from home. Whatever of value we have is derivative, and we bring nothing to the table that we didn't take from it. And of course, according to the Doctrine of the Roman Catholic Church, one of the things we left behind was the Apostolic Succession. Lacking the valid priesthood, there is really very little we could bring to the eucharistic table.

This document makes it abundantly clear that the old model of ecumenism is still dominant: come home, prodigal children; Mother will forgive you. It is the same model of sedentary unity (unity around the Chair of Peter) that I contrasted with the more collegial model favored by William Reed Huntington some years ago. Anyone interested in the comparison can read the paper here. I submit it still holds. This document will be a blow to ecumenism, but it really is nothing new -- just a reminder of the costs and expectations in the wounded body of Christ.

Tobias Haller BSG

Sufficient for the day

A thought on the feast of Justin Martyr...

Just as we accept the "sufficiency of the Holy Scriptures for salvation" so too we regard the Nicene Creed, as the Lambeth Quadrilateral puts it, to be "the sufficient statement of the Christian Faith." What the Nicene Creed leaves out, then, is not essential to the faith. The Creed doesn't tell us everything about God, or much about the church, and hardly anything about discipline or morals; but it tells us enough about the faith in order for us to be faithful.

Isn't it interesting that God appears only to give us enough to keep us hungry for the eventual enjoyment of the banquet — just our daily bread until we reach the heavenly celebration? Can the church not rejoice in its doctrinal rations, and not impose beyond their bare sufficiency? It is in those extra-creedal matters that we begin to divide, and dividing, fail.

Let us fast from the excess that leads to division, and feed one another on the adequate fare God provides.

Tobias Haller BSG

The web of possible relationships

Over at the daily episcopalian Jim Naughton has posted a short reflection on the impact of same-sex blessings in the Church of Sweden (now officially authorized and put in practice) on the fact that the Churches of England and Sweden are in full communion, though the Church of Sweden is not thereby a member of the Anglican Communion. Communion is not, to use the mathematical term, transitive. [Note, never having been very good at maths I used "commutative" here in the original post. A number of charitable folks have pointed out the error of my ways. I was always good at geometry, but numbers are not my friends...]

It strikes me once again that this might be a possible way forward for the Anglican Communion. It seems that one way or another, come the end of this year the Anglican Communion will in all likelihood be different from what it has been in the past. Either it will have begun to transform itself into a more tightly structured quasi-global church (or global quasi-church, take your pick) and hence be less "Anglican," or loosen its ties (the "bonds" of affection having grown tenuous) into a web of bilateral relationships, and hence be less of a "communion." In the interest of a possible later coming-back-together, I would counsel the latter course. It is no secret I have long opposed the almost Babel-like drive towards building a stronger, higher, bigger structure in order to ensure unity.

In this model, TEC might remain in communion with, say, the Church of Southern Africa, and CSA in communion with the Church of Nigeria, but TEC not in communion with CoN. Just like we have now with ELCA, TEC, the C of E, and the Church of Sweden. Would this not be a better, and simpler, way forward than the rush towards a covenant from which it appears some wish to see others excluded -- for if the covenant is "weak" enough to allow all the present parties to remain, what is the point?

As to Lambeth, to which in the past all of the bishops have been invited, there are two options that recommend themselves. Invite them all, including the Lutherans from our part of the world and the Scandinavian and Baltic regions, for a true time of fellowship; or perhaps give it a rest for a decade, as a number of people have suggested. Lambeth didn't meet in wartime -- perhaps our current troubles might also warrant a time apart? One thinks how many families might get along better were it not for enforced holiday parties...

—Tobias Haller BSG

What Would Gamaliel Do?

I've talked before about applying the "Gamaliel Principle" (If it is of God, it will last) to our present crises. But I got to thinking today about its larger application to the church as a whole. And it seems evident to me that the one thing about the church that hasn't lasted is institutional unity. There were divisions in the church from the days of the Apostles on -- as we see from the various tiffs between Peter and Paul, with friends like Barnabas and John Mark drawn into the divisions, and foes like those troublesome folks in whose direction Paul tosses epistolary brickbats in his postscripts.

This tension in the church is usually seen as the cause of our "unhappy divisions" -- but it has lately struck me that this mournful tongue-clucking may be a matter of crocodile tears, since it is well within our power to end the divisions rather than piously asking God to do so. Problem is, we don't do that, as it means surrender of things we believe to be good and right and proper -- and more important than institutional unity.

My point here is that maybe God's plan for the church never was an institutional unity in which all members were the same, and part of a single institutional administration, but rather institutional variety in a fellowship of equals. I'm not just being "Anglican" here: I think of all those organs of the body with their different functions all working together -- and yet the eye is not the hand, the foot not the eye, and so on. Maybe it is the gift of the Episcopal Church to be an eye for a certain kind of justice, and for Nigeria to be a voice for a call to faithfulness; for England to be a hand for balance, the Caribbean and Central America a heart for joy and celebration. And beyond this: to the Roman Catholics for a call to seriousness in reflection, the Baptists and Pentecostals for a dose of the Spirit, the Moravians for their music and the Orthodox for their spirituality.

I noted on the floor of the General Convention that Jesus said we were to be one "as I and the Father are one." Well, as the old symbol shows us, the Son is not the Father and the Father not the Son, yet each and both is and are fully God. What if we were to acknowledge the fullness of the Church present in every separate organ, each a "person" in this wonderful divine embodiment; rather than pine for an external "unity" that "confuses the persons" into a single monochrome entity in which the eye and hand lose all distinction. What if each of the churches was to be seen as a hypostasis of the one ousia; fully and substantially the church -- as completely as Christ is present in each separate fragment of the bread that once was one, but now is many?

Perhaps we should accept that what has endured -- a church with many and various members and traditions -- is really what is "of God" -- and that, if we could accept it and stop bickering about our differences (and criticizing each others' gifts), we might then be about the tikkun olam that is God's purpose for the church in the world. What might that accomplish?

Worth trying, don't you think?

— Tobias Haller BSG
Valentine's Day 2007

Nothing will be lost...

Meditation for Wednesday
in the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, 1994
The Society of the Atonement at Graymoor

Genesis 9.8-17; Psalm 148; Romans 8.18-23; John 1.1-5,9-14

Tobias Stanislas Haller BSG

Beloved sisters and brothers, let me tell you a mystery.
Nothing will be lost. All will be restored.
In the economy of salvation, nothing goes to waste.
Our God is not a God of acceptable losses.
Nothing God has made deserves God’s hatred.
Everything that is was created in love.
Each atom, every blade of grass,
and most of all each human soul,
reposes in the assurance of divine, unalterable love.
Nothing will be lost. All will be restored.

The whole creation groans,
subjected for a time by the divine command
to wait on tiptoe and in expectation:
waiting for the children to grow up,
waiting for the children to inherit,
waiting for the glory to be revealed.

For glory came down from heaven,
and hid itself within a tiny child,
a child some tried to kill,
a child some tried to ignore,
a child that others worshiped,
a child destined to be the rise and fall of many
not just in Israel but throughout the world.
The glory hid itself,
but could not hide itself for long.
It shone as light in darkness,
and the darkness could not hold it in.
The darkness tried to turn its back,
the naughty children hid their eyes and said,
“You can’t see me,”
but the light was so relentless,
it was so strong it shone right through the darkness.
The darkness never knew what hit it;
for when the light was come, the darkness wasn’t darkness any more.

Beloved, nothing will be lost.
All will be restored.
Creation groans, waiting for the promise,
waiting for the branch to bud and blossom and bear,
waiting for the children to inherit,
waiting for the children to stop their fighting,

waiting for the children to open their eyes
to behold the glory shining from each others faces.

“Never again,” God said, “never again;
I’ll never kill you all again.
Never again will water wash a world away.
I promise you, and set the contract in the clouds,
the covenant in the storm-cloud,
my Name in shining light.
I’ll keep my word; my word is good.
It lasts for ever.
I will do more.
I’ll send the Word,
I’ll send my Son to seal the contract with his blood,
blood shared with you
— your blood, your human blood.
Nothing will be lost. All will be restored.”

“All? All?” I ask. “What, all?
Even those who turned their backs?
Even those who through free will
rejected you, the Will that gave them freedom?”
“Yes,” says the Lord, “all will be restored.
Nothing will be lost.”

“How, Lord?” I ask.
“How will they be redeemed
who turn away? How will their blind eyes see?
How will their hard hearts melt?”
God answers patiently,
“Love will turn them ‘round.
My love turns stars, you know,
it turns the universe;and though a human heart is heavier in my eyes
than a thousand, thousand white dwarf cores,
my love will turn it; wait and see!
All will be restored. Nothing will be lost.”

“When, Lord?” I ask.
“When will the wound be healed?”
“Don’t you know, my Child?” God answers.
“The healing has begun.
It started with the coming of my Son.
This was the new beginning,
just as long before,
when through him all that is was made.
You should have seen it!” God laughs softly.
“It only took the gentlest touch,
the merest breath of Love
to start the universe to being.
The quarks began to sing,
the particles to spin,
the forces to divide
under the strong even pressure of his compass.
The angels were impressed.
The Spirit hovered, kibitzing,
offering suggestions
for the value of Planck’s Constant
and the speed of light,
and recommending
that space would be more pleasing
with a gentle curve.
It was a good week’s work,
when the Word made the world.
And so it will again.
The healing has begun.
Nothing will be lost.
All will be restored.”

“Is it really that simple?” I ask.
“Can the wound be healed with a touch?”
“The healing will take a bit longer,”
God answers, then pauses.
“O.K., I’ll be honest; it’s you subcontractors,
the partners in redemption with my Son.The specifications are clear,
‘Love God and each other,’
and the plan is concise:
‘one house, many mansions.’
But you seem so intent on constructing outhouses,
rock gardens and car parks!
Instead of a banqueting hall
you construct fast-food stands!
There are times I regret I extended the work force
past Yahweh & Son.
But what’s done is done.
The only thing in all my creation
I don’t mind losing is time.
I’ll have the job done right
if it takes forever,
and we’ll keep at it together until we get it right.
I am not a God of acceptable losses.
I won’t cut corners;
cost overruns don’t phase me.
Nothing will be lost.
All will be restored.”

And so, my beloved in Christ,
I give you this word:
now is the time for the children to grow up,
now is the time for the heirs to inherit.
Nothing will be lost.
All will be restored.
And now is the time.
The whole world is waiting,
the stars hold their breath,
the wild beasts and cattle regard us with growing impatience,
the birds hover over us, the fish all tread water,
the trees shrug in wonder, or stand limbs akimbo,
and deep in our hearts
God’s Spirit is groaning:
“Be reborn, beloved, become what you are
and the world will be free.”
The Spirit is crying:
“Look up to the light, your hearts will be whole
and the wound will be healed.”
The Spirit is singing: “My children, my children are home!”

---

Peter, Paul, and the Church

Those of us who follow the discipline of the Daily Office will soon be coming to the point in Acts of the Apostles at which it gets agreed that Peter should minister the Gospel to some while Paul and his associates will minister the same Gospel to others — others who will be held to a different standard of conduct, since they are not Jews but Gentiles. The wisdom of this move was credited by the Apostles to the Holy Spirit.

It appears to me that we have here a model for how to handle disputes in the church. It is not necessary, classical Anglican formularies tell us, that rites and ceremonies be in all places the same; nor would it seem, given the Apostles’ debate and decision, in even weightier matters of the Law, that an absolute uniformity be observed, so long as the heart of the Gospel is preserved.

To use Alisdair MacIntyre’s telling imagery, What deep truths from the narrative of our past, in which the practice of obedience has formed us, will enable us to meet future commitments in such a way that we “make of human life a unity”? What, exactly, are the obligations put upon us by the Gospel, if not those Christ enumerated in the Summary of the Law? And how, in keeping them, do we find ourselves, even if discontinuous on the practice of other virtues — even virtues held by some to be grave and important — how do we find ourselves still able to remain united in spite of these discontinuities?

And can we? This is the challenge that faced the church of Acts: and as the Epistles show, it failed — splintered over glossolalia and circumcision and a handful of other trivial discords that the churches’ warring members allowed to divide them — until the hammer of martyrdom in the Empire’s hand awoke them to a consciousness that there were more serious things in life — and in the life to come.

So can we be a church united in Christ while still some of us are “Pauline” and others “Petrine”? Does the unity of the church depend on choosing between Paul, or Cephas, or Apollos? Upon this set of rules or another? Or upon Christ, who summarized the Law under the rubric of Love, and in whom we are one not by our own virtue, but by virtue of our Baptism, and who has chosen us as much as we have chosen him?

— Tobias S Haller BSG

---

Shadows of Unity

When I was in seminary I wrote a paper for R. William Franklin's church history course, in which I compared the lives and views of Dr. William Reed Huntington and Fr. Paul Wattson, founder of the Society of the Atonement at Graymoor. The essay was later published by the Society of the Atonement, with two responses, addressing my sometimes pointed critique of Fr. Paul's concepts and direction.
It occurs to me that we are engaged in a similar discussion at present as to which model for unity or communion is best, and so I'm providing a link to this essay for anyone who might be interested in a historical perspective.
Here is the precis of the paper:

In this paper I will examine two men and the models for church unity they proposed. This is a study in contrasts and shadows. The men themselves are shadows of each other: each perceived in the other a distortion of an ideal; each reacted to the divisions within the Episcopal Church in a different way, one by seeking common ground, the other by escape to higher ground. The models for church unity they proposed reflect their different backgrounds and outlooks, and respectively present an ethos centered in community and an ethos built upon authority. As such they reflect the ongoing tension between koinonía and episkopé that has marked the church from the days of Paul and Peter. The models have changed and been adapted over time by those who have adopted them, but the end of unity for which they were to serve as means seems still as shadowy as ever.
The first part of this paper compares and contrasts the lives and philosophies of the two men: one viewing the strength of the church welling up from the parish, the other looking to the See of Peter as the fons vitae for the health of the body. The second part summarizes the origins and development of the Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral and the Church Unity Octave. A brief concluding section comments on the current state of ecumenical affairs, and describes one glimmer of hope among the shadows of unity.

Read the rest at Shadows of Unity