On the Articles: Article XII

Saint Philip and Saint James the Apostles

ALMIGHTY God, whom truly to know is everlasting life: Grant us perfectly to know thy Son Jesus Christ to be the way, the truth, and the life; that, following the steps of thy holy Apostles, Saint Philip and Saint James, we may stedfastly walk in the way that leadeth to eternal life; through the same thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Saint James the Brother of the Lord, Martyr

O HEAVENLY Father, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning: We bless thy holy Name for the witness of James and Jude, the kinsmen of the Lord, and pray that we may be made true members of thy heavenly family; through him who willed to be the firstborn among many brethren, even the same Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

The Fifth Sunday after Easter commonly called Rogation Sunday

O LORD, from whom all good things do come: Grant to us thy humble servants, that by thy holy inspiration we may think those things that be good, and by thy merciful guiding may perform the same; through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

XII. Of Good Works
Albeit that Good Works, which are the fruits of Faith, and follow after justification, cannot put away our sins, and endure the severity of God’s ludzement; yet are they pleasing and acceptable to God in Christ, and do spring out necessarily of a true and lively Faith; insomuch that by them a lively Faith may be as evidently known as a tree discerned by the fruit.

If there is one topic sure to set a protestant on edge it is a discussion of works. The Epistle of St James famously discusses the importance of works, for which the greater reformer Martin Luther termed it the Epistle of Straw, and even went so far as to seek to remove it from the Canon of the New Testament. Article XII on good works relates to Article XI dealing with Justification, two key concepts during the time of the continental reformation and which required clarification in England when the Articles began to be compiled and promulgated.

In pre-reformation Medieval western theology, a good work was something used to earn merit, the favour of God. While this included morally good acts, significantly, others were merely acts of piety laid upon sinners by priests in order to confirm penitence. Saying the rosary, fasting and other such acts of contrition were considered good works. This practice was rejected by the continental reformers, and leading to that overall perception of anything relating to works as needing rejection. It seems as though in some places, particularly with uneducated laity and poorly educated clergy, misconceptions of the role of these acts of penitence could have been normative, and so the Anglican response in the Articles needed to clarify this matter, despite rejecting much of the broader premise of Martin Luther and other protestants.

The opening line of the Article makes clear that good works cannot earn one merit or put away sins. This is a line of argument acceptable to the protestants, however it is notable also in that it fits in line perfectly with the Roman Catholic doctrines, just not practice. The Article goes on, however, to say that good works are a necessary procession of a “true and lively Faith” which might otherwise be termed a saving faith. This distinction draws reference to the Epistle of James, which itself is often contrasted with Paul’s Epistles where he seems to suggest the opposite. It also distinguishes it far more from the Protestant position of the reformers.

Much like some of the disconnect between the Roman Catholics at Trent in the counter-reformation and Martin Luther and the reformers before them, terms were being used in a different sense, and each party did not entirely recognize that as they objected to eachother’s statements on the matter. To quote Fr Kenneth Ross:

It was a similar variation in the use of key words which made St. James and St. Paul appear to contradict one another in the New Testament. Each appealed to the story of Abraham, St. James to show that faith without works did not justify, and St. Paul to show that it did. It is clear, however, that St. James was using faith in the sense of intellectual assent: in his use of the word the devils had faith (S. Jas 2. 19), but they were certainly not justified. St. Paul, however, by faith means personal commitment to the Saviour. And by works St. Paul was thinking more particularly of works undertaken in order to win God’s favouir and rewards, whereas St. James meant the works which are the necessary consequence of a life surrendered to Christ.

It was this negative view of works among the continental reformers that lead many protestants to reject the sacraments, beginning to view them as works of man. This view is wholly rejected by the Articles, by which the Sacraments are wholly accepted as works of God, who transmits grace through them. This was a rejection of a position held by the Father’s of the Church and universally recognized. St Ambrose of Milan writes in his On the Myteries that, “Believe, then, that the presence of the Godhead is [in the waters of Baptism]. Do you believe the working, and not believe the presence? Whence should the working proceed unless the presence went before?” This position was integral to his entire explanation of all the Sacraments, and was not a novel or innovative position. It was purely an overreaction to the concerns over

In this way the Article agrees with both Biblical authors as it states both that we cannot by our own works earn our salvation forgiveness of sins, but at the same time they are the necessary fruits of saving faith. The final clause of the article states that as a tree can be known by its fruit, so can faith be known by its works. This emphasizes the Scriptural foundation of Anglican understanding of the faith, and also reinforces the English reformer’s rejection of many of the more extreme views of the continental reformers.

In dealing with Salvation, Articles XI and XII introduce justification and works, while Articles XII and XIII continue to expound on the role and limits of works for Christians, laying out clear boundaries on the purpose, limits and Christian understanding of works.

On Human Nature

The First Sunday in Advent

ALMIGHTY God, give us grace that we may cast away the works of darkness, and put upon us the armour of light, now in the time of this mortal life, in which thy Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious Majesty, to judge both the quick and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal; through him who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, now and ever. Amen.

 For most children, at some point in their school career they will be asked that basic philosophical question about the nature of humanity. Are humans, by nature, evil or good? It is a complex question that many philosophers throughout the ages have struggled with. For children, it is perhaps a simpler question of examining the world around them and reporting on it.

They see evil, murder, theft, sexual violence, war and conclude that it is part of human nature to do evil. Others might, in the midst of that evil, particularly if they are not touched by it directly or are perhaps by virtue of their parents shielded from it in some way, conclude that humanity is by nature good.

Children who are shielded from the news and other sources of violence might conclude that humans are generally good because that is what they experience around themselves. Those who see evil—murder, theft, sexual violence and immorality and war—might conclude that humans are by nature evil. Sure enough, when something bad happens or someone sins, how common is it for someone to suggest that it is human nature?

Even within Christian communities, when someone speaks of their own trouble with temptation and sin, how common is it for someone to suggest that it is simply human nature that we sin or otherwise succumb to temptation? Is that correct?

It is not. God did not create humanity to sin. Indeed, we are made in his image and likeness.

In the ancient Church, worship was for the saints while it was adoration that was reserved for God. Today, we worship God and adore babies. As Fr Michael McKinnon once joked, however, there is only one adorable baby in human history, and that is Christ himself.

Yet when we consider the nativity and incarnation, it’s not simply to think about the adorable baby he was born as (in both senses, certainly), but rather what the implications of the incarnation are. In this season of Advent, as we anticipate the incarnation, it seems appropriate to consider what Christ’s taking on a human nature implies about our own humanity.

Isaiah contains a number of prophesies related to the coming and incarnation of Christ the Messiah. St John of Damascus, in considering Isaiah 7 which contains the famous prophesy that, “the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel,” (Isa 7. 14), suggested that Christ’s incarnation reflects on human nature itself, that, “by the transgression [of Adam and Eve] we were driven from the natural to the unnatural, but the Lord led us back from the unnatural to the natural. For this is what is the meaning of in our image, after our likeness.”

To St John, then, humans are by nature good, and this is reflected in Scripture both in the creation story of Genesis, but further in the discussion of Christ’s nature and explication on why the incarnation occurred as it did. This view of the natural state of humanity being good, impaired by sin to the unnatural state of sin, was shared by other early fathers of the Church.

St Gregory of Palamas, a 14th century theologian venerated primarily in the East, wrote extensively on the incarnation, again affirming the beliefs of the fathers. He describes how Adam was created undefiled, until he turned aside from God, tempted by the pleasures of the flesh and underwent the defilement of sin. In so saying, he argues again that by nature, man is good and it is the tyranny of sin which, contrary to our created nature, pushes humanity towards evil.

In his own words, “originally God created the first Adam undefiled and he was new until he voluntarily obeyed the devil. He turned aside after the pleasures of the flesh, underwent the defilement of sin, grew old and fell into what is contrary to nature.”

St Gregory spoke to the incarnation of Christ, noting that the purpose of the incarnation was that in coming among as us as man, Christ could take our sins upon himself, a full, perfect and sufficient sacrifice for all and for all time. In order to do this, though, a number of things were needed.

Christ was not conceived by ordinary means, but by the Holy Spirit, such that:

he was the only one neither shapen in iniquity nor conceived in sin, that is to say in the fleshy pleasure, passion and unclean thoughts that belong to our nature defiled by transgression. The point of this was that the nature he assumed should be entirely pure and unsullied, so that he himself would not need to be purified but would, in his wisdom, accept everything for our sake.

Note again how St Gregory stresses, as St John of Damascus did, that human nature had been defiled by the transgression of Adam, yet in Christ’s incarnation and pure life he was able to die, not because of his own sins, but in order that he be a sacrifice for ours. He writes further, “Born of a woman that he might restore the human nature created by him.”

Sin and evil are not humanity’s nature, they are a corruption of our natural state. In as much as Christ had a dual nature, both fully God and fully man, humans too can be viewed, in some respects, as being of a dual nature: our natural state, as we were created before the fall, and our current state, corrupted in sin. In his sacrifice St Gregory writes, Christ has made, “his flesh an inexhaustible source of sanctification with abundant power to wash away the defilement of our first parents, and sufficient to sanctify everyone who came after them.”

When we see evil in the world, injustice, violence, hatred or any other kind, it should not be viewed as part of our nature. It is alien to us. What we are seeing is the nature of sin, and often enough lives lived in slavery to it.

St Paul wrote often using the imagery of our slavery and bondage to sin. He also wrote, however, that in Christ there is freedom. Our shackles will be removed. Our sins will be wiped clean. In Christ, we come closer and closer to true human nature, the image and likeness of God in which we were first created.

In this season of advent, it is this reality that we are called to reflect upon. The true meaning of the Nativity of our Lord.

On the Marks of Mission

The Twenty-Fourth Sunday after Trinity

O LORD, we beseech thee, absolve thy people from their offences; that through thy bountiful goodness we may all be delivered from the bands of those sins, which by our frailty we have committed. Grant this, O heavenly Father, for Jesus Christ’s sake, our blessed Lord and Saviour. Amen.

While the four Marks of the Church, that it is One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic, might be the four traditional marks used to identify the Church, and which are referenced in the Apostle’s Creed and listed in the Nicene Creed, the Marks of Mission are much more commonly referenced in Church documents in the modern Anglican Church of Canada. The Marks of Mission were articulated by the Anglican Communion in the mid-1980s as a means of describing the central mission of the Anglican Communion as a church. There are five marks, of which only the first two are distinctly Christian, namely to proclaim the Good News of Christ and to teach, baptise and nurture new believers. The remaining three Marks are characterized more as social activism, namely to respond to human need in loving service, to transform unjust power structures in society and to promote peace and reconciliation and finally to safeguard the integrity of creation and sustain and renew life on the earth.

To be clear, while there are no Christian distinctives in the majority of the Marks (unless one considers describing the earth in terms of creation as distinctly Christian), that does not mean the Marks of Mission are un-Christian. Far from it. Yet at the same time, when the final three marks are pursued far more vigorously than the first two, it does leave one to pause and question the purposes of the marks and the broader vision of the church in terms of mission.

One could argue that the goal of the Marks is to sanctify society. It envisions a society in which violence is never considered as a tool, there is some form of justice for all, creation is respected, the Gospel is proclaimed and all people are brought to Christ. And yet, centuries before the Marks of Mission were proclaimed, St Francis of Assisi noted that, “if you sanctify yourself, you will sanctify society.”

His point was that the Anglican Church of Canada seems to be doing things backwards: focusing on, as an institutional priority, sanctifying society in some way, or rather advocating for it, while assuming that the sanctification of individuals will come later. It should not be ignored that the first Mark is to proclaim the Gospel, and yet a quick search of ‘mark of mission’ on the Anglican.ca website or on anglicanjournal.ca turns up references almost exclusively to the fourth mark of mission, that of transforming unjust structures of society and opposing violence. One news article describes a church seeking to live out the marks of mission, and its description of that points exclusively to human service, social activism but with no connection to the first two marks, and indeed an emphasis on how they avoid evangelism at their events.

The view that the social justice marks must be persued as a priority places an emphasis on social activism rather than personal sanctification, and thus implies that sanctification is a result of those good works. Yet St Paul suggests in Romans 14 that works that do not proceed from faith proceed from sin (Rm 14. 23b) and this interpretation is supported by the work of the scholastics and Article XIII. This viewpoint seems stringent, but reinforces the fact that without God’s grace, we are slaves to sin. It is in Christ that we are set free from sin, and it is through the strengthening and empowering of the Holy Spirit that we do good works in faith. Just as we are saved by faith and not works, society will be sanctified by our faith, with in turn sanctifies us, and not by our attempts simply to sanctify society through works alone.

It is important to remember this distinction between the individual, the Church and society. To go back to the Marks of the Church, rather than the Marks of Mission, which Mark is it that suggests the Church is meant to be an institution of social change? What part of Holy Scripture describes the goal for a sanctified society for which the Church is working towards?

The only real argument that could be made would be for the society of the law called for in the Old Testament for the Jews, and yet Christ fulfilled the law and the New Testament proclaims freedom from the particular laws of the Jews. The Good News of the Gospel, which the first mark calls to be proclaimed, along with Christ himself, is that there is a route to personal salvation and sanctification through faith in Christ and the reception of the Holy Spirit! It is not something that occurs through the actions of the Church, rather the Church itself is established in order to transmit this Good News and the teachings of Christ to all people in all times. The Great Commission is to do so. The Church was created to fulfil that commission, yet so far as the Anglican Church of Canada is concerned that is a lower priority.

When the Church moves beyond salvation and Scripture, as the church is doing in Canada, it risks its own authority. Looking at the third Mark of Mission, for instance, in some cases it might be clear how we are to respond to human need. Feed the hungry and clothe the poor is a simple enough prospect, but what about more complex issues? By what metric do we determine what is unjust? To some, closed communion is unjust, and yet to others it is for their benefit on the basis of Holy Scripture (I Cor 11. 27-29). Secular views of justice would suggest turning anyone away is unjust, yet Scripture itself suggests that if someone receives communion without proper preparation they receive it to their condemnation and it is therefore just that the church prevent them from receiving without proper preparation.

Exploring deeper issues of poverty, discrimination, criminal justice all go well beyond Biblical teaching and open the door to questions of how the church will base its decisions on what is unjust. It also shows the dangerous precedent of using secular reasoning to inform the Marks of Mission. Scripture makes it clear that we are to care for the poor, but when the Marks demand addressing systematic issues of injustice, it requires proscriptive efforts that go beyond what Scripture teaches. Are priests now to be political scientists and sociologists, working to determine what policies a government ought to apply in order to address issues of injustice in the world? Does it in any way fulfil a Christian calling to simply seek to use institutional powers of the church to draw awareness of outsiders to these issues?

Coming back to St Francis of Assisi it is through the individual that change must occur. It is the invisible church—the gathering of all the faithful—that must make the difference. Good works are the proceeds of faith as the Epistle of James tells us (Jas 2. 26), and it is the individuals who are called to make the difference.

When the Church speaks to outsiders, it is moralizing. When it is the faithful, inspired by their faith and empowered by the Spirit, who act, it is a witness to others. As we are sanctified, we will sanctify society. The Marks of Mission may not be the best guide for the Church, but they remind us of what we as individual Christians are called to do, and in particular the order in which we are to fulfil them, first by coming to faith, being nurtured in it and when it is mature to act upon it and by our good works transform society and be a witness to others that they might come to faith in Christ themselves.

On Pudding

Feast of St Luke the Evangelist

ALMIGHTY God, who calledst Luke the Physician, whose praise is in the Gospel, to be an Evangelist, and Physician of the soul: May it please thee that, by the wholesome medicines of the doctrine delivered by him, all the diseases of our souls may be healed; through the merits of thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

The Twentieth Sunday after Trinity

O ALMIGHTY and most merciful God, of thy bountiful goodness keep us, we beseech thee, from all things that may hurt us; that we,being ready both in body and soul, may cheerfully accomplish those things that thou wouldest have done; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Last month, the lectionary took us through the Epistle of James. James contains a number of verses many Christians are familiar with. One that really strikes me is Jas 2. 17: “So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” This verse, and the broader discussion of faith, works and salvation from Jas 2. 14-26, was mentioned in a homily by my priest who suggested the way to view this is that St James is saying, so far as faith is concerned, the proof is in the pudding.

This verse in itself leads to a number of interesting discussion topics on the nature of justification, saving faith or true faith versus the profession of faith and whether works proceed from true faith or play some role in salvation, justification and sanctification.

A perhaps more interesting question is can this verse be applied more generally to the Church or just to the individual? If the proof is in the pudding for the individual, how might that apply to the Church?

To begin, what specifically does St James suggest? “If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled”, without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that?” (Jas 2. 15, 16). Here St James suggests that our faith and deeds must connect, but to break that down a bit more, what is he saying? The faith is to be rooted in Christ’s teachings.

The fact that you would be concerned for a brother or sister who is lacking in basic necessities is related to the faith imparted by Christ. So it is not enough to have some kind of faith, it must be true faith, rooted in Christ’s teachings. Next, it is insufficient to simply teach or preach Christ’s teachings, they are to be lived out if they are to be truly taught.

The real key is not simply that something should happen based on our faith, but that part of that faith is doing something. If you truly believe in Christ Jesus then you will want to do these things. This is perhaps made clear further on in the chapter, where he writes, “You see that faith was active along with his works, and faith was completed by his works,” (Jas 2. 22). Here he introduces the discussion of Abraham and the sacrifice of Isaac to show the connection between Abraham’s faith in God and his willingness to act on that faith by sacrificing his son Isaac.

So to conclude, there are really three things being discussed here. Christ’s teachings, belief in them, and willingness to act upon them based on that faith.

How might this be seen to apply to the Church?

Christ’s teachings are simple enough. It is clear the Church cannot teach what is contrary to Christ. Article XX of the Thirty-Nine Articles of Religion says, “it is not lawful for the Church to ordain any thing that is contrary to God’s Word written, neither may it so expound one place of Scripture, that it be repugnant to another.” That is simple enough, until you realise that God’s Word written is not always clear.

Just as the term true faith was used previously to describe the type of faith which reflects the teachings of Christ and moves the individual to good works to live out that faith, so to must there be good doctrine.

Luckily, there is a way of deciding whether or not an interpretation of Scripture is good or not and that is to test it against the understanding of the Church Fathers. If you look back and since the patristic age it has been taught that a given verse means A and you suggest it means B, it is likely that your interpretation is somehow in error. While it is true that not all of the fathers were always correct—some fell into error quite often, St Augustine of Hippo even revised many of his early views as he matured in faith—the greater body of their work is an accepted standard by which Christians today can judge the interpretation of Scripture. The Creeds are another great example of something by which we can test interpretation of Scripture. For centuries, the Nicene Creed has been the sufficient Christian statement of faith accepted East and West. If a doctrine similarly runs counter to the Nicene Creed it is incorrect.

It is important to remember this grounding in Scripture. In modern times, arguments for innovation are often presented in the form of “I sense it is the movement of the Spirit that we do X.” This view seeks to ground doctrine not in God’s word, but in personal revelation. For those who have a background in some charismatic protestant denominations, this can actually be a common occurrence leading to discord within a local church community. When you claim authority directly from the Spirit, you are claiming it cannot be tested simply against Scripture because it is a new revelation.  However, Scripture itself points in some cases to this being untrue.

In St John’s Gospel, Christ offers a prayer for the Church: “And I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, keep them in your name, which you have given me, that they may be one, even as we are one,” (St Jn 17. 11). This is Christ’s singular prayer, that the Church be one, be united. Also here, he reaffirms the previous teaching that he and the Father speak as one. It suggests that when the Holy Spirit comes, the helper Christ spoke of when he had just said:

When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth, for he will not speak on his own authority, but whatever he hears he will speak, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. He will glorify me, for he will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is mine; therefore I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you. (St Jn 16. 13-15)

Here, Christ again says that there will be unity between what he has said and what the Spirit has said. Just as he says in Chapter 17 that he and the Father are one, here he had said that he and the Spirit are one. What the Spirit reveals will not contradict what Christ has taught. Similarly, Christ’s prayer was that the Church would be one, and if that is the case, God would not send the Holy Spirit to grant new revelation only to small subsets of Christians, but to all Christians.

So if doctrine is to be rooted in the teachings of Christ that is held in accord with orthodox faith and understanding of those teachings, what then is works? The work of the Church is found in the liturgy, which encourages and nurtures the body to do good works.

Doctrine of the Church ought to be reflected in the words said each week, and ought to inspire the people to fulfil those doctrines throughout the week. As St Teresa of Avila once said, “Christ has no body on earth but yours, no hands but yours, no feet but yours. Yours are the eyes through which Christ’s compassion is to look out; yours are the feet with which He is to go about doing good; and yours are the hands with which He is to bless us now.” The liturgy is when we gather each week to be nourished in God’s grace and then go forth to do what he teaches. To evangelize, to comfort the sick and afflicted and to care for the poor.

Doctrines of the Church, and our understanding of them, ought to be rooted in the same understanding of our personal faith that sees the need for true faith to give birth to good works. Perhaps the most important consideration here then becomes, if faith without works is dead, what might that imply for the Church if it strays from the model which St James provides with respect to true faith?

On Post Traumatic Theology

The Fourth Sunday after Trinity

O GOD, the protector of all that trust in thee, without whom nothing is strong, nothing is holy: Increase and multiply upon us thy mercy; that, thou being our ruler and guide, we may so pass through things temporal, that we finally lose not the things eternal. Grant this, O heavenly Father, for Jesus Christ’s sake our Lord. Amen.

Your faith is too safe.

Safety in church is something a few people have been pondering in light of the horrific events in the United States which saw several Christians gunned down at bible study. It should, however, be noted that while they were Christians and the murders occurred while they were at Bible study in their parish home, the attacks seem to be motivated entirely by their race, rather than their faith.

In Canada, our faith is too safe, but not because these types of racially motivated mass murders are not common here (though, the École Polytechnique Massacre would be an example of something similar), nor because we face the type of persecution Christians in the Middle East or in China now face due to oppressive governments.

While it may miss the greater point over racial violence in the United States, it does raise an interesting subject for discussion. In the Early Church, Church was the people. Christians met in private and often in some amount of secrecy due to persecution, either from Jewish officials or state officials. Jewish officials were concerned with their view that Christian teaching would be subversive both to their religious orthodoxy and their temporal authority in their society. The Roman persecutions tended to be based more on concerns that Christians were subversive to state authority, due to their unwillingness to worship the Emperor, and also was reinforced by the secrecy surrounding certain Christian beliefs and practices.

In Canada, the state guarantees our freedom of religious belief as well as our physical safety. We are protected against government persecutions and private persecution on the basis of our faith. Yet one interesting further difference in this situation is that none of what Christians practice or preach is viewed as threatening or subversive to the state or society in the way that it was in the time of the Early Church.

Christians are called to live a life of truth and grace, in the image of Christ’s example, but despite the repeated warnings in Scripture that we are not meant to be a part of the world (eg. Jn 15. 19; Jn 16. 7-11; Rm 12. 2; 1 Cor 1. 20; etc) or take our teachings from the world, many Christians seem reticent today to rock the boat of secular popular opinion.

Our faith is too safe.

In the Anglican Church of Canada, we still talk about Christianity being counter-cultural, yet in the same breath in discussing the daily life of the church, the advice heard most often is some variation on, “get with the times.” We don’t want to offend anyone. On doctrinal issues, there is similarly a drive to try and show how secular views are entirely in line with the Gospel message and that the Church must therefore catch up to what society has already come to accept.

This is not to say that there is an inherent conflict between society (Canadian or other) and Christianity. In any society, there will be elements which line up with God’s will and elements which do not. Indeed, in Canada, the fact that Christian ethics and morality were the norm among the people and leaders of the country for over a hundred years. Not so today, and many people love to spend time debating when that change happened, but the fundamentals remain and in many cases, human conceptions of justice, right and good still mirror God’s laws.

In many ways Anglican, and all Christian, theology is post traumatic theology, in that it is generated to respond to some particular kind of trauma or controversy. In modern Canada, that trauma is fear of offending secular logic and sensibilities.

It is ironically a very Canadian approach to desire to be inoffensive. Yet it is not Canadian to be squeamish. Nor is it Christian. In the Acts of the Apostles, boldness is what characterizes the Apostles and disciples of Christ, in contrast to their shame and meekness following his arrest.

We have freedom to practice our faith, and yet instead, out of fear, we seek to conform our faith to what is acceptable to secular society. St Paul once wrote, “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect,” (Rm 12. 2). When you limit your faith you grace and love, it is easy. No one is going to be offended by that, especially when you do not use God’s definition of love, but your own or society’s. How could they? The problem is that Christ did not come only with love, he came with grace and truth. It was love and grace that allowed Christ to approach the Samaritan woman at the well in the Gospel of St John.

Had Christ come only in love, it would have been an affirmation of her adultery. If he had not come in love, he would have been Pharisaical in his rebuke of her sins. When we are too safe, it is not simply that our theology becomes stunted, but it risk being outright wrong!

The shootings in Charleston have been supplanted in social media by the recent decision by the United States Supreme Court which has paved the way for same-sex marriage across the United States. This ruling comes during the middle of the General Convention of the Episcopal Church of the United States, where the issue of same-sex marriage has already been on the agenda and generating significant debate. If you listen to many Christians, the ruling is certainly a trauma, and General Convention is sure to have some kind of response.

The question now is whether or not General Convention will seek to play it safe and appeal to secular society, or whether they will act boldly with grace and truth in emulation of Christ. The pressure to conform ourselves to the world is strong. The pressure to have a safe faith is strong. If the inspiration of Christ and the Apostles is insufficient, we in the West ought to look to our brothers and sisters in Christ in the many places throughout the world where persecution does not mean the potential risk of ridicule or social ostracization, but rather death.

In as much as we seek to learn the circumstances of our brothers and sisters who face persecution, we must similarly seek to learn the example of how, regardless of personal safety, they choose to practice their faith boldly.

On the Theological Virtues

The First Sunday in Epiphanytide

O LORD, we beseech thee mercifully to receive the prayers of thy people which call upon thee; and grant that they may both perceive and know what things they ought to do, and also may have grace and power faithfully to fulfil the same; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

The Epiphany of our Lord

O GOD, who by the leading of a star didst manifest thy only-begotten Son to the Gentiles: Mercifully grant, that we, who know thee now by faith, may be led onward through this earthly life, until we see the vision of thy heavenly glory; through the same thy Son Jesus Christ, who with thee and the Holy Ghost liveth and reigneth, one God, world without end. Amen.

Epiphanytide is a season of growth, and if there is to be a summary of what we ought to grow in, it would probably be given by St Paul in his first epistle to the Corinthians, “So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love,” (1 Cor 13. 13). These virtues have been spoken of time and again by many Christian authors. As CS Lewis puts it in Mere Christianity, “The "Cardinal" [virtues] are those which all civilised people recognise: the “Theological” are those which, as a rule, only Christians know about.” Taken along with the four cardinal virtues, of which temperance is one, they are known as the seven heavenly virtues and held in opposition to the seven deadly sins.

The three theological virtues of faith, hope and charity, which in the previous citation was rendered as love, have particular meanings in this context. CS Lewis did not mean, for example, to imply that a non-Christian could not have faith of any type or that non-Christians are all bereft of hope, indeed it is possible for Christians to experience elements of these non-Christian virtues. They are, as Lewis notes, peculiar, to Christianity. Someone might easily expound the virtue of temperance, which was considered a virtue in antiquity by Greeks and other non-Christians, yet they would not speak of the virtue of, for instance, charity, at least not as it is understood and presented here in its Christian context.

Much like how Lewis decried the linguistic change of meaning for the word temperance, he decries its narrowed definition for charity. In modern English, if you ask anyone of the meaning of charity, its definition would be some variation on alms giving or giving to the poor and less fortunate. This is why, as in the example given above from the English Standard Version - Anglicized, the term charity is sometimes rendered as love. The definition of the theological virtue of charity is most simply given as Christian love or agape love.

Agape love is the self-sacrificing love of God towards man (Jn 3. 16) and our desire to reciprocate that love back towards God. It is a love that even in its human context stems from God, and runs through him. In his Four Loves, Lewis creates distinctions between love, dividing it into affection, friendship, eros and charity (agape). He describes the first three as natural loves, and makes the statement that, “the natural loves are not self-sufficient,” in that they can be exhausted; as Lewis goes on to put it, “Something else, at first vaguely described as “decency and common sense,” but later revealed as goodness, and finally as the whole Christian life in one particular relation, must come to the help of the mere feeling if the feeling is to be kept sweet.” Put another way, God's love must be lived and supported through relationship with God if it is to be sustained.

The second theological virtue is hope. It is not hope in a secular sense. Anyone can hope there will be good weather, but in this sense they are merely expressing a preference. Christian hope is a certainty that is given to us by God’s presence in our lives and the promise of redemption made through Jesus Christ that will lead to true life with God. It stands in opposition to certain forms of secular nihilism that see pointlessness and necessarily despair as inherent parts of the human condition. This dichotomy is truly realised when you ask if such a thing as Christian nihilism is possible, and by definition it is not. Christianity is a religion of hope; hope for a future in which the sin and destruction of the world will be no more.

Holding this hope in our hearts and minds is one of the great virtues of Christianity. Not simply because it can help lead to a more positive outlook on life, but also because of the inspiration such hope provides to lead a good life in the present while we aspire to the greatness of the future. It is the Christian hope that was inspiration for many great reforms throughout the centuries as CS Lewis notes:

If you read history you will find that the Christians who did most for the present world were just those who thought most of the next The Apostles themselves, who set on foot the conversion of the Roman Empire, the great men who built up the Middle Ages, the English Evangelicals who abolished the Slave Trade, all left their mark on Earth, precisely because their minds were occupied with Heaven.

It is this desire to live the Godly life that is encapsulated in the virtue of Christian hope. Not mere hope, but a transforming demeanour that encourages Christians to do good and bring the King of Heaven nearer to perfection on Earth.

The final theological virtue is faith. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church describes it:

Faith is the theological virtue by which we believe in God and believe all that he has said and revealed to us, and that Holy Church proposes for our belief, because he is truth itself. By faith “man freely commits his entire self to God.” For this reason the believer seeks to know and do God’s will. “The righteous shall live by faith.” Living faith “work[s] through charity.”

Lewis notes that there is something deeper to faith that purely belief in God, and the Catechism begins to note this as well. In speaking of believing in God and what he has said, the Catechism refers in one manner or another to a decision of faith based on reason. You weigh the evidence for and against faith in God and come to your conclusion. While it is possible new evidence may ultimately occur that challenges your faith, it is not reason that is the primary opponent of faith, but generally our emotions and personal desires. Consider for a moment someone for whom tragedy strikes. In a moment of anger over what has happened, they may convince themselves that their faith was misplaced. Or even if there is some situation in which their faith is inconvenient, they may be tempted to simply say it is so. Lewis describes this as the challenge of holding on to your faith, once decided by reason, in the face of changing moods. “That is why Faith is such a necessary virtue: unless you teach your moods “where they get off,” you can never be either a sound Christian or even a sound atheist, but just a creature dithering to and fro, with its beliefs really dependent on the weather and the state of its digestion.” In this, he speaks to a truth which can also be particularly difficult for Christians, for whom they can accept God, but ultimately only on their own terms in which their faith conforms God to what they find comfortable, easy or preferable. If your doctrines are not sound, if you allow them to waver based on mood and ease and preference, your faith is weak; it is only partially there in that you accept only in some form that God exists, but perhaps miss the second part noted in the Catechism, that you accept what he has said and revealed to us.

It is for this reason that true faith, as described in the Catechism and by Lewis, is so essential as a Christian virtue. In this treatment of the virtues, it has been approached in the reverse order from that provided by St Paul, even though he cites agape love as the greatest of the three. The virtues build upon one another. It is possible to have some form of faith without hope, but it is not possible to have hope without faith. In presenting them in reverse order, the hope is that it is easier to see the essential need for a foundation in firm faith, in order to allow hope and charity to flourish.