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 Cultural Relevance

The Feast of the Reign of Christ

ALMIGHTY and everlasting God, whose will it is to restore all things in thy well-beloved Son, the King of kings and Lord of lords: Mercifully grant that the peoples of the earth, divided and enslaved by sin, may be freed and brought together under his most gracious rule; who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

The Sunday Next before Advent

STIR Up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people; that they, plenteously bringing forth the fruit of good works, may of thee be plenteously rewarded; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

On this last Sunday of the Christian Calendar, also known as the Feast of Christ the King and the Reign of Christ under the more recent revised Calendar, there is a reflection on some of the previous topics discussed this year.

A number of different topics have been discussed related particularly the subject of worship: what it means, how we pursue it on a Sunday, the way things like prayer and liturgy contribute--or indeed detract--from worship of God. Related to many of these is a question of doctrine, which was discussed primarily in the discussion of the Anglican maxim of lex orandi, lex credendi. What we pray reflects and informs what we believe as doctrines of faith, and therefore what we believe informs the ways in which we pray as much as what we pray.

In the West, the Church, whether it be Anglican or any other tradition, is in decline. Of great concern to many Christians is the way in which this overall trend can be reversed. Cynically, this leads to a view that places a great importance on filling pews and not on the transforming grace God offers us. In these situations, it is easy to see how doctrine can be sacrificed. Decline in Church attendance is ascribed to Christianity no longer being relevant to modern Western culture.

In this view, scientific advances of Western society, changing morality and social mores and generally a broader resistance to (real or perceived) antiquated, superstitious and discriminatory religious views, must be addressed by substantive revision of doctrines in order to return Christianity to the cultural mainstream, and thus again be relevant.

How much further from the truth could we be? JB Phillips, in his book Your God is Too Small, once noted that, “we can never have too big a conception of God, and the more scientific knowledge (in whatever field) advances, the greater becomes our idea of His vast and complicated wisdom.”

To quote the Anglican formularies, the ordinal describes the purpose of the priesthood as those called:

to be Messengers, Watchmen, and Stewards of the Lord; to teach, and to premonish, to feed and provide for the Lord's family; to seek for Christ's sheep that are dispersed abroad, and for his children who are in the midst of this naughty world, that they may be saved through Christ for ever.

As the Ven. Fr. Michal McKinnon paraphrases it, “the charge of the Church is to seek the lost who are in the midst of the world that they may be saved, not by us, but through us by Christ.” How much does this contrast with broad churchmen who argue that the Church ought to conform to society in order to bring people in?

The danger here is in false doctrine. We risk an approach which sees the application of the cultural context in which Holy Scripture was written and our own cultural context being applied to its interpretation in which which seeks to shape God in the image and likeness of God, rather than allowing it to be used as a tool to bring God's transforming grace to man in a way that allows us to become closer to the true image and likeness of God we were meant to be.

Does the Church maintain its relevance by changing the Church internally in order to meet people where they are, or does the Church meet people where they are by literally going out into the world to meet them and bring them into the Church?

It is St Paul in his epistle to the Romans who exhorts us to, “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).

As St Teresa of Avila reminds us, the Church is Christ’s agent on earth:

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.

Being relevant requires many things, but it never requires us to change Church doctrines to conform to modern sensibilities. It requires the Church to truly teach the Gospel, wholly and completely, and then to practice it. It requires the Church to step outside of the walls of its physical buildings, to meet people where they are and respond to their needs in the way that Jesus not only preached the Father’s will, but worked it.

On Lectio Divina

The Twenty-Second Sunday after Trinity

LORD, we beseech thee to keep thy household the Church in continual godliness; that through thy protection it may be free from all adversities, and devoutly given to serve thee in good works, to the glory of thy Name; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

This post is an excerpt of a talk given on lectio divina at a Parish Retreat held the weekend of the 14th and 15th of November 2014.

We began today with an historic request. Christ’s disciples, as recorded in the gospel of St Luke, ask Him, “Lord, teach us to pray.” We engaged in a meditation on the nature of Christ’s response to their request, and since then we have explored teachings and witnesses on private and corporate prayer life. Prayer has been described as a gemstone with many facets. In becoming familiar with them all, we can help to prevent our prayer life from losing depth or becoming a boring monotone. More simply, our goal has always been to show how we can each, simply, enhance our prayer lives and relationships with God through an active and spirited life of prayer which St Teresa of Avila once said was, “nothing else… than being on terms of friendship with God.”

For most of us, our prayer life likely began through the recitation of memorized prayers like the Lord’s Prayer. Over time, we begin introducing more personal elements to our prayers, moving off script. This is the beginning of the transformation of our relationship from one that is impersonal and is about sending messages to God to a more personal relationship with God in which our prayers are conversations between good friends.

Conversation requires not just speaking, but listening as well.  The same holds true in prayerful conversation with God: there must be time for God to speak, and we need to listen when He does. It isn’t wrong to simply bring our petitions to God, in fact we are instructed to do so (Phil 4. 6). It is a start. But to develop a true and deep relationship with God, we need to leave times of silence for God to speak, and train ourselves to listen. In his book The Screwtape Letters, CS Lewis presents an imagined demon giving instruction to a pupil on ways to corrupt the souls of a human. In one of his letters, the demon Screwtape notes that the world is, “occupied by Noise...the grand dynamism, the audible expression of all that is exultant, ruthless, and virile…We will make the whole universe a noise in the end…The melodies and silences of Heaven will be shouted down in the end.”

In the early church, listening to God was considered to be an extremely important and natural part of our spiritual lives. Our spiritual activity in relation to God was a rhythm, a gentle oscillation, between activity towards God and receptivity from God. The activity was pray to God, while receptivity was prayer through listening to God.

While there were many different ways early Christians would make themselves receptive to God, one that received something of a revival and remains extremely commonplace today is lectio divina. It was strongly encouraged in the medieval monastic traditions, and particularly in the Rule of St Benedict from the early 6th century, where the very first sentence of the prologue instructs the reader to, “incline the ear of thy heart,” in order to hear, “thy loving Father.” Michael Casey, a Cistercian monk who has written extensively on the subject, describes it as, “more than the pious perusal of ‘spiritual books.’ Lectio divina is a technique of prayer and a guide to living. It is a means of descending to the level of the heart and finding God.”

Lectio divina is Latin for ‘divine reading’ but it might more easily be understood, at least initially, as ‘divine listening’ because it is a practice which helps us to hear God. Lectio divina is a personal prayer, though it can also be practiced corporately, in which we read Scripture not to see what God has revealed to Christians through the ages, but to listen to His will for us personally in the moment.

While there can be infinite variations in the practice of lectio divina, there are almost always a few common features that unite those practices.

Before beginning, a verse of Scripture is selected as the focus of the lectio divina. The verse itself shouldn’t be too long, as it is easier to contemplate a briefer verse without having to constantly re-read the passage from your Bible. The actual meaning of the passage is not entirely relevant. Remember, lectio divina is not about coming to a deeper understanding of the meaning of a passage, but rather allowing God to speak to you through it. Having selected a passage, there are four main steps to be followed.

Lectio is the first step, reading. The selected passage must be read slowly, attentively and reverently, and through the reading we begin to listen for the, “still small voice,” (1 Kgs 19. 12) of God as he may highlight a particular word or passage within the verses being read. When reading, pause after each clause. In some practices, during certain stages of the reading you may even re-read a particular part of a passage multiple times, or even pause after every single word.

Meditatio is the second step, meditation. Following the annunciation of Christ to St Mary, St Luke records that she pondered what had been revealed to her in her heart (Lk 2. 19). Once we have heard the word or phrase God is speaking to us, we must do the same. Allow it to sit in our head and interact with our thoughts, our worries and the longings of our hearts.

Oratio is the third step, prayer. As St Ambrose of Milan put it, “And let them remember that prayer should accompany the reading of Sacred Scripture, so that God and man may talk together; for “we speak to Him when we pray; we hear Him when we read the divine saying.” While lectio divina as a whole is a form of prayer, this is a stage of particular prayer within the process. In the meditatio we personalize God’s word for us. In the oratio we pray a prayer of consecration, offering back what we have meditated upon to God with a grateful heart. This can be done wholly through intent, or if it is easier it can be done through words, spoken or unspoken. God knows the desires of our hearts, but it can be easier as a method of focusing to use words.

Contemplatio, or contemplation, is the final step in lectio divina. It is the point in which, in silence of thought and mind, we can contemplate the loving presence of God. It is a receptive stage in the rhythm of prayer that follows through the receptivity in lectio and activity in the oratio. Through lectio divina, God has invited us into His transforming embrace, revealing to us His will for us. Having had that confirmation of God’s love for us, contemplatio allows us to rest in that love. In this act we achieve closeness with God that cannot be matched purely by conversation. An example might be how at certain points in very close relationships, words are not necessary and two people can simply enjoy and communicate through their presence together. As St Pio of Pietrelcina puts it, prayer, “is the key to God’s heart. You must speak to Jesus not only with your lips, but with your heart. In fact on certain occasions you should only speak to Him with your heart.”

There are many different practical ways to engage in lectio divina, but each of these four stages will be present in some manner. It should be noted, however, that they themselves do not represent a linear progression through lectio divina as there will often be repetition of the reading, meditating and prayer stages throughout the process, and in particular when engaged in a group setting, the contemplation stage may be very brief, or may be engaged in privately at a separate time as a conclusion to the lectio divina. What is critical, however, is that each stage is incorporated into the structure of the prayer. Through them, the rhythm of prayer life in the early church is restored. This rhythm of the early church is also best supported through regular practice. Abbot John Chapman of Downside once said, “The only way to pray is to pray; and the only way to pray well is to pray much. If one has no time for this then they must at least pray regularly.” So it is with lectio divina.

On the Law of Prayer

Feast of St Matthew, Apostle and Evangelist

O ALMIGHTY God, who by thy blessed Son didst call Matthew from the receipt of custom to be an Apostle and Evangelist: Grant us grace to forsake all covetous desires and inordinate love of riches, and to follow the same thy Son Jesus Christ; who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, world without end. Amen.

The Fourteenth Sunday after Trinity

ALMIGHTY and everlasting God, give unto us the increase of faith, hope, and charity; and, that we may obtain that which thou dost promise, make us to love that which thou dost command; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Among Anglicans, the phrase lex orandi, lex credendi is almost as popular as references to Scripture, Tradition and Reason as an explanation of the Anglican faith. The Latin expression is popularly rendered in English as, “the law of prayer is the law of faith.” Put simply it means that Christian faith finds its expression first and foremost in our prayers. Many protestant denominations have confessional statements while the Roman Catholic Church has a very comprehensive Catechism which includes all teachings that are to be believed in those denominations and members must assent to. However, it is through their prayers that their faith, and adherence or not to those doctrines, is revealed.

If prayer is so central to defining Christian faith, then, this begs the question of what constitutes prayer? St Teresa of Avila once described prayer as, “nothing else… than being on terms of friendship with God.” When at the start of a Sunday service, parishioners recite the Collect for Purity, entreating God to, “cleanse the thoughts of our hearts,” it is prayer. When we say, “Thank you!” for another supplication, it is also prayer. When in the practice of lectio divina, we simply rest in God’s presence without actively communicating that is still prayer. St Teresa’s perspective helps us to understand why we pray. The Father knows our needs better than we ourselves understand them. This leads many to question why we need to pray. The simple answer is we are commanded to. In the Epistle of St James we are reminded that we are invited by God to lift our needs before Him, and that He wants to be on terms of friendship with us as St Teresa says. Brother Lawrence, a 17th century lay Carmelite brother, put it this way:

Think often on God, by day, by night, in your business, and even in your diversions. He is always near your and with you; leave Him not alone. You would think it rude to leave a friend alone who came to visit you; why then must God be neglected? Do not, then, forget him but think on Him often, adore Him continually…

We develop those terms of friendship with God in the same way we would with any living person: through proximity and frequent communication.

Prayer is the primary tool of communication with God, though we also learn of God’s nature and will through Holy Scripture. Prayer itself is a multi-faceted gemstone, each face is different but all reflect the glory of God. In being familiar with all of them and their different shapes and natures, we develop depth and variety to our communications with God, preventing our conversations from becoming a repetitive monotone. In the corporate realm, our prayers are expressed through the liturgy.

In this corporate expression, however, lex orandi, lex credendi in modern times has become a somewhat nebulous concept to some, for instance the Preface to the Canadian Book of Alternative Services which states that lex orandi, lex credendi:

means that theology as the statement of the Church belief is drawn from the liturgy... The development of theology is… a reflective process in which theology may be discovered. The Church must be open to liturgical change in order to maintain sensitivity to the impact of the gospel on the world and to permit the continuous development of a living theology.

In this reasoning, any form of prayer (in this case specifically the liturgy) creates orthodox theology which ought to be acceptable, however in this case it ignores the reminder of St James that, “you ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions.” (Jas 4. 3). Similarly our faith will be in error if it is based on prayer which does not align with the will of God.

Pope Pius XII wrote in his encyclical Mediator Dei:

We refer to the error and fallacious reasoning of those who have claimed that the sacred liturgy is a kind of proving ground for the truths to be held of faith, meaning by this that the Church is obliged to declare such a doctrine sound when it is found to have produced fruits of piety and sanctity through the sacred rites of the liturgy, and to reject it otherwise.

Here Pius rejects this line of reasoning in 1947, in a statement which at that time well could have been written by Anglicans. The Preface to the 1962 Book of Common Prayer expressed the intention that, “those who use it may become more truly what they already are: the People of God, that New Creation in Christ which finds its joy in adoration of the Creator and Redeemer of all.”

Prayer creates roots for our faith. A shallow devotional life cannot survive the turbulent storms that afflict us; without strong roots an outwardly strong looking tree can be toppled by the slightest breeze. At the same time, the roots can be strong, but they will not grow into a tree of orthodox faith if the roots themselves are not orthodox.

This reality begins to illuminate the importance of the Book of Common Prayer, commonly referred to as the Prayer Book, to Anglicans. For some, the BCP may simply be a book of liturgy, but the reality is that it is a book of Scripture and prayer that can help us to develop our faith and keep our prayers in line with God’s will. The wrong petitions, those in opposition to God’s will, display a false faith, or a faith which has been led astray.

The Book of Common Prayer helps to ensure that our prayers are illuminated by the will of God. It is steeped in Scripture; the first and last lines of the Book of Common Prayer are Scripture. It is a guidebook to a life of prayer and learning about the nature of the God who wants to hold a personal friendship with us.

The Book of Common Prayer contains not simply Scripture, but prayers, the catholic Creeds, the Thirty-nine Articles of Religion and is viewed as being one of the traditional formularies of Anglicanism. It is a tool that does not simply aid in our prayer, but does so in a way that ensures that the rule of prayer by which we develop our faith is one rooted in orthodoxy.