Category Archives: Anglican

Sermon on Colossians 1: A Word to the Fashionable Modalists

M gave me permission to post this up; it’s what she preached this past Sunday. I wondered if it might rustle some feathers in the congregation but apparently she got quite a lot of feedback—all of it overwhelmingly positive. So, without further ado:

When my elder daughter, G., was about three or four she came home one day from pre-school and in her usual manner told me all about her day. She began to tell this vivid story of her new friend Vava. I thought his name was a little unusual, but then she told me that he was Hindu and I realized that this was a name from India that I had never heard before. Day after day I heard all about Vava and one day she informed me that Vava was coming over to visit before he moved. Sure, I told her. I’ll get his phone number tomorrow when I drop you off at school. “No, Mom” she said. “You can’t do that.” Puzzled I asked her why? She said in all seriousness, “Mom, Vava isn’t real—you can’t see him.”

As it turned out, Vava was one of G.’s imaginary friends. For several years we heard quite a lot about Vava and his female companion Doodoo, who they were visiting and what they were up to. Our younger daughter, H., made friends with them as well, and kept them company once G. went off to kindergarten.

What we eventually figured out, though, is that Vava was only partly an imaginary friend. Indeed, it might be more accurate to say that Vava was actually an invisible friend. Bit by bit, my husband and I began to realize that Vava was modeled quite closely after one of G.’s real-life friends, and Indian boy named R.. Many of the characteristics and hobbies that we thought G. had made up Vava were entirely real about R.. When we actually met the real boy R. at a birthday party, I felt like I already knew him because I’d lived so long with Vava. The real boy taught us about the imaginary friend, and, in turn, the invisible friend taught us about the real boy.

Paul’s language in Colossians this morning reminded me of Vava, and I couldn’t help thinking about him and about R. this week. Paul says in particular that Jesus is the very image of the invisible God. And that interplay between Vava and R. came to mind hearing Paul discuss the interplay between who Jesus is and who God is, and about what we learn about God by looking at Jesus.

This passage from Colossians is one of the most beautiful pieces of poetry in the New Testament. Indeed, this passage is often referred to as one of the earliest Christian hymns. Now, we don’t know if anyone actually sang it or if it was used in early church gatherings outside of where we find it in this letter, but its language is rich and evocative and beautiful. Sometimes with language this beautiful, I give in to the temptation to just let it wash over me and to enjoy the experience of hearing it without trying to fully understand it. And yet—this is worth the trouble to understand.

It’s not uncommon these days in the Episcopal Church to hear people using the phrase “Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer” when they are talking about the Trinity or even to hear some clergy start services or sermons with an invocation “in the name of the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer.” I don’t do that and I won’t do that because I think it’s confusing and, without quite a lot of clarification, it gives people a set of wrong ideas about God.

In one sense, the basic formula is absolutely right: The Trinity does act together as the world’s creator, redeemer, and sustainer. But—that’s rarely how the formula comes across. Instead, too many of the people I know use it as a kind of shorthand or substitute. They have become very sensitive to the use of too much male language and so they don’t want to use too much. As a result, they get the sense that instead of saying “Father, Son, and Holy Spirit” that it’s perfectly ok to say “Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer.” And it’s not.

The problem isn’t so much the formula, rather it’s how they use it and how we hear it. It’s really easy to hear this phrase and to think “oh—I see: Creator = Father, Redeemer = Jesus, and Sustainer = the Holy Spirit.” And that’s not right. And one of the reasons that’s not right is what the poetry from Colossians tells us this morning. Jesus is the very image of the invisible God. In him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell. Or, as John’s Gospel records Jesus saying, if you have seen me, you have seen the Father.

The real problem with the formula is the way that it limits our understanding of who God is and how God acts. One of Paul’s key points today is how Jesus is the great linch-pin of Creation: “All things have been created in him and for him.” Paul is reminding us—hey, Jesus is “Creator” too! But then he goes right on to say, “in him all things hold together.” Paul is reminding us—hey, Jesus is “Sustainer” too! And let me tell you today that all of this is Good News. Why? Because what Paul is telling us here is that Jesus is the very image of the invisible God—we learn about the invisible God from the God who took flesh. We learn about the God whom we cannot see who blows around us at this moment from the one whom, as 1 John starts out: we have seen with our own eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our own hands, concerning the Word of Life. Paul reminds us in this beautiful New Testament hymn that Jesus himself is simultaneously the Creator, the Redeemer, and the Sustainer. And indeed, he shows us what is revealed elsewhere: God the Father is the Creator, yes, but as the God who freed Israel from Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm is a redeemer and as he fed the Children of Israel with quail and manna in the desert was Sustainer as well. The Holy Spirit who sustains us is the same Spirit who laid the foundation stones of Creation and who redeems us in water and Spirit when we are washed in the holy waters of baptism.

So here’s Paul’s point—and it ends up having a really practical purpose: Jesus is the very image of the invisible God. If we want to learn about God, the first and best way to do it is to look at Jesus. It is to consider Christ. And now we’ll use just two points to make this practical.

First, when we look at Jesus, when we look at what he said and what he did, we see love, the reconciling love of God who calls us back to the riches of the glory of the mystery of God. The love of God revealed in Christ is so deep that God is willing to go to the cross for us. The love of God revealed in Christ is so powerful that not even the cross can end it, for God’s love breaks the bonds of death.

Second—our second point takes us back to invisible friends. Sometimes those whom we cannot see teach us about those whom we can. And, vice-versa, sometimes those whom we can see teach us about those whom we cannot. We cannot see God the Father or God the Spirit with our eyes of flesh. And, even though the apostles could, we can no longer see Jesus with our eyes either. So how do we learn about those whom we cannot see? Well—we look at the parts that we can see. In our liturgy we proclaim that each of us is baptized into the Body of Christ. We become part of his body. When we gather together at the altar for Eucharist, we feed on the Body of Christ. The Body becomes a literal, physical part of us. Now, in these latter days, we cannot see Jesus. Unless, of course, we stop and look around the room…

One of the great monastic teachers, John Cassian, wrote over fifteen centuries ago about how his monks were supposed to learn about virtue. They were to look to the elder monks and find those whose lives were worthy of being imitated. But no one person has all of the virtues. Instead, Cassian counsels that we look for the good, we look for the virtues, in each person around us. In one we will find wisdom, in another humility, in another righteous action, in yet another compassion. These virtues, Cassian tells us, are nothing less than Christ distributed amongst his people. It is only when we come together in unity and in faith that we bring together the whole Christ of whom we are members.

How do we know the invisible God? Well—by looking at who we are when we are at our best together. This church can be a true model of who God is. We can ourselves be an image of the invisible God when we, as a whole, show forth the love that Christ commands of us. Furthermore—Christ is the linch-pin. He is what holds us all together.

The world that we live in is so broken and fragmented, but this Colossians passage gives us hope. We are told, “and in him all things hold together.” If we look through the eyes of faith, though, we see that it is Christ’s love that is holding everything together. It ought to encourage us rather than depress us, inspire us instead of making us do nothing—so I leave you with one task this coming week. See if you can figure out how Christ’s arms embrace the world today in your own life and in the life of the church—and how we, in our actions, can continue to extend his arms in love.

The Church as the Interpreter of Scripture

I commend to all Fr. Haller’s thoughtful reflection on Scripture and its interpretation.

I have quite a lot to say on this topic that I cannot write now. Thus, let me leave you with just a few teaser thoughts:

  • The point of the Christian faith as I understand it is to participate within the community of those invited into the interior life of the Triune God. As a result, one of the key factors here is relationships. We as individuals are in a relationship with God and are also in a relationship with a community. The Scriptures are one record of one part of that relationship and the community as a whole has privileged them as an essential and sufficient record. A record is not a relationship, however.
  • At the root of the faith is the relationship between God and “his people”–variously identified as those God has called into relationship with himself. As a result, history itself is a key factor. However, we have no access to the history. We have a written record which means that what is normative amongst us is a document which describes, among other things, history which reveals the on-going character of the relationship between God and his people. A document, while it may be historical, is not a direct window into history.
  • I think it’s important to constantly remind ourselves what Scripture says about itself in one of its most beleaguered and put-upon sets of verses: 2 Timothy 3:14-17  “But as for you, continue in what you have learned and have firmly believed, knowing from whom you learned it  15 and how from childhood you have been acquainted with the sacred writings which are able to instruct you for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus.  16 All scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness,  17 that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work.” Hmmm. From this one might suspect that the purpose of the Scriptures is to reveal the character of the relationship between God and humanity and from there to direct what character a Christian ought to be forming.  And that seems to me to be both quite a bit more and quite a bit less than what others often use these verses to claim.

American Company of Servers?

I’ve started any number of times to write a post on this topic and they keep self-destructing after having gone on for far too long about far too little. So—I’ll get right to the point, then.

In the UK, the Society of Catholic Priests is twinned with a lay group—the Company of Servers.

The point of this group is that it teaches the laity who serve at altars and in chancels the practicalities, theology, and spirituality of service in the sanctuary.

In brief, I’m very much for it in the same way and for the same reasons that I’m for the Society of Catholic Priests. In brief:

  • Anglo-Catholicism has always had an issue with idiosyncrasy. Area-wide groups where people come together to learn can help smooth out parish level idiosyncrasies by means of a common practice.
  • Too many times, rectors jerk parishes around especially on the liturgical level. Just because the rector is having a particular spiritual journey doesn’t necessarily mean that the congregation wants to go along. I keep insisting that liturgy in any given place is the theology of the gathered community made kinetic. That doesn’t mean it’s something a rector gets to impose. Instead, a wise priest will determine the operative theologies in a parish and respond to those. A group like this helps laity articulate together what their theology is and, as a result, what sort of worship should result.
  • Sometimes, for a wide variety of reasons, Anglo-Catholics or other forms of “high” Anglicans get stuck in broad to low parishes. Wouldn’t it be nice if a local chapter of the Company of Servers could meet for the BCP-appointed Holy Days and offer a full-on reverent Mass (with the assistance of a like-minded priest) in order to retain the practice and spirituality even if stuck in a parish without it?
  • It’s rooted primarily in practice—what we do together—which seems to me a far more productive ground and purpose than meeting around theology which can get quite fraught especially when we start up the games of “More Catholic Than Thou.”

What do you think—can/could this model get transplanted here? What kind of organizational tweaks might be necessary to deal with the North American situation?

New Breviary Upgrade is Here

The latest version of the St Bede’s Breviary is now up. This new release includes a number of features that people have been requesting:

  • cookie support—if you go to the “Preferences” page, you can now save your Office-praying options and they will stay set whenever you return to the site.
  • additional sanctoral kalendars—In addition to the kalendars as printed in the ’79 BCP and the extended Holy Women Holy Men, it also includes the Church of England’s Exciting Holiness, the current Roman Catholic kalendar, the ordines of the Order of the Holy Cross and the Order of Julian of Norwich, and the kalendars from the Anglican and English Missals.
  • improved aesthetics—including a layout which functions for handheld devices; I’ve been praying the Offices via Blackberry with it
  • additional information on the sources of the material
  • some brief catechetical material included in the preferences page.

Quite a lot has also changed under the hood in the way that it calculates dates, but—hopefully—no one but me will know that…

It’s still in beta, so I’m not promising that it’s bug-free, but this does represent a big step forward towards the goal I’m trying to fully realize here.

As always, it’s your breviary as much as it is mine, please feel free to send in thoughts, questions, comments, and new feature requests. As to the latter, I’ll let you know that the NRSV readings are in the works as is a build-out to include the Prayers and Thanksgivings on BCP pp. 810-841.

On Picking Prelates

The slate of candidates for the next Bishop of Springfield has been announced and what a large field it is—14 nominees in all. With a field that large it’s no surprise that there are some familiar names; one is even a commenter here.

I clicked into the responses for several of them; I appreciated that the one of the questions that nominees had to answer queried them about their personal Rule of Life. Bishops are, in theory, at the spiritual center of the dioceses. Yes, I imagine you’d want a capable administrator, but I’d very much want a person of prayer as well, especially one grounded in our Anglican tradition. I saw one commonality in their responses, that I’d like to lift up.

I had no idea that so many senior clergy have such a steadfast devotion to the Daily Office.

Because, in all honesty, I fail to see signs of it in our church at large.

Indeed, I’d think that if such a large sampling of senior clergy showed so many so devoted to it, there would be more evidence of it in the parishes and in the dioceses where they serve now. But there’s not.

With such a wonderful opportunity, though, to inquire of regular users of it, if I were at the walk-abouts, I’d have one question for each of the nominees: “So, in light of your Rule of Life, I was wondering if you could tell us what canticles you like to use on Wednesday mornings, and why?”

Come to think of it, it’s a question I wouldn’t mind putting to the whole House of Bishops…

Kalendars and Ecclesiologies

As part of the forthcoming upgrade to the breviary, I’ve been tinkering with the way that I generate my liturgical dates. I did have a system where I had to sit down and figure everything out for each year for each kalendar. Needless to say, this took a fair amount of time and caused a certain amount of duplicated work (which programmers hate).

I’m moving to a rule-based system that determines the temporal date, checks for major BCP occasions, then adds in any Days of Optional Observance based on the preferred kalendar. In order to make the magic happen, I’ve been sorting through a whole bunch of liturgical kalendars:

  • the BCP
  • Holy Women, Holy Men
  • the current Roman system
  • the Order of the Holy Cross
  • the Order of Julian of Norwich
  • Exciting Holiness (the CoE’s)
  • the Knott/English Missal
  • the Anglican Missal (functionally the Roman ’62)

All told, this makes 806 liturgical observances.

There are a lot of overlaps between the kalendars (i.e., some observances are celebrated in all 8, many are in at least 3 or 4), nor does this reflect the number of saints within these various kalendars (given that some observances celebrate no one—like days within the octave of the Nativity—and some celebrate several—like the feast of Basilides, Cyrinus, Nabor, and Nazarius or, a personal favorite, Ursula and the 11,000 virgins…)

Having all of this data collected in one table opens up all sorts of interesting possibilities for looking at it and reflecting on it. While I haven’t even begun to do that, some very general observations do come to mind:

  • The people we pray with and about have an awful lot to do with how we construct our own mental ecclesiology. If one of the things that a sanctorale does is to remind us of who all is contained in the communion of the saints, then different kalendars end up giving us very different answers and, as a result, sketch different pictures of who the church is.
  • Holy Women, Holy Men—which I’ve bashed many times in the past for a variety of offenses—takes on a new light when placed in relation to the Exciting Holiness, the ordo of the OHC (particularly the one in the monastic breviary that clearly predates HWHM), and the Knott Missal. This doesn’t necessarily mean that this new light becomes a favorable light, but adding in these relationships does help me see where some of the commemorations are coming from and why they are placed on the dates that they are.
  • That having been said, a very interesting diagram could be made mapping two different axes, the genetic relationships and theological intentions of the kalendars. Of course, two more kalendars would have to be added in first: a “pure” pre-conciliar kalendar, most likely the Pius X revision, and the Sarum kalendar…
  • The one major factor that immediately comes to my mind is the place of the martyrs. Within the big list, 213 of the 806 observances are of martyrs (26%). When we parse individual kalendars or groups of kalendars distinct patterns emerge. The highest martyr count goes without a doubt to the Anglican Missal and this is not solely due to theological grounds but rests partly on logistical grounds: this kalendar is one of few that includes commemorations and thus can—and does—have multiple observances within a single calendar day. (Which , yes, is in and of itself a theological decision…) That having been said, of the Anglican Missal’s 339 discrete liturgical observances, 138 are of martyrs (41%). By way of comparison, of Holy Women, Holy Men’s 272 discrete observances, only 39 are identified as being occasions celebrating martyrs (14%). One factor here is chronological—on the balance, HWHM has more observances from and relating to the modern era than the AM (no firm breakdown on this yet, but that can be obtained…) and thus far fewer individuals from the era of Roman persecution, but this sends a major theological and ecclesiological message.  The church sketched by the Anglican Missal is a church composed in large part by those who died rather than alter their faith. However, the church sketched by Holy Women, Holy Men with both its lack of early martyrs and its many modern entries sketches a church made up of more “ordinary” people in “regular” (to us) contexts embodying their faith.
  • There’s quite a lot more to be said here in relation to these few issues that I’ve raised and the additional material contained within this data. I’m thinking a decent-sized journal article could easily come out of all of this…

CWOB and Jesus

You know that state where a pond is almost frozen and all it takes is a single snowflake to start the thermal reaction that freezes the whole thing over? I’m getting the sense that at least the chatterers of the Episcopal Church (myself among them) are at that point concerning Communion without Baptism. Following discussion here and some off-line conversations with Donald Schell, Donald posted a piece at the Cafe that’s getting some major and sustained attention.

There’s no doubt in my mind that this topic may well be our next biggest theological battlefield. And it will be a big one as our Eucharistic practice has major implications for our liturgical practice and our sacramental theology as a whole.

There’s one particular piece of the puzzle that jumps out at me because of my own weird angle on things… There’s a direct line from the principal arguments for Communion without Baptism that rest on the work of Norm Perrin. For those who aren’t familiar with Norm, he’s a New Testament scholar who stands in a very interesting place historically. The drive-by version is that the First Quest for the Historical Jesus was closed off by the one-two punch of Wrede’s work on the messianic secret and Schweitzer’s Quest for the Historical Jesus—so, in the first decade of the twentieth century. Then there was a vestigial Second Quest in the mid-twentieth century that’s connected with Bultmann’s Christian encounter with Existentialism and is most specifically exemplified in Bornkamm’s Jesus Christ. Right after that point came Perrin. In one sense he’s a transitional figure between the Second and the Third Quest. I tend to see him more as the father figure of the Third Quest.

I see three significant points on Perrin and CWOB. Point one. Perrin was self-consciously undertaking historical work. I’ve mentioned this before in other discussions but it’s important enough to be worth repeating: a major facet of the case for CWOB is that it attempts to base itself on the practices of the historical Jesus. Thus, this opens two immediate lines of investigation. First, it means that the theology and practice are based in a historical reconstruction. This assumes and presumes that the reconstruction is correct. Second, what is the alternative to the historical Jesus? It’s the canonical Jesus… By using the selective focus of a 20th century reconstruction of what the historical Jesus did, what aspects of the canonical Jesus are being left out or deliberately ignored?

Point Two. The points from Perrin seem to rest on the reconstruction of a particular kind of “Jesus meal”—the meals that Jesus ate with “sinners and tax collectors.” There are, however, at least four kinds of meal material that need to be considered from the Gospels alone: yes, the “meals with tax collectors and sinners”, but then there’s also the Last Supper, the feeding miracles, and the discussions about meals. All four of these need to be engaged. Of course, when we do that then I suspect we cut immediately to one of the big issues with most “historical” Jesus reconstructions—the automatic jettisoning of Johannine material. Returning to the canonical Jesus and discussions of meals means that John 6 is back on the table…

Point Three. As Father John-Julian reminded me a while back, evidence from earliest Christian (including some questionable Christian) literature suggests that the fundamental paradigm for the Eucharist was the feeding miracles—not the meals with outcasts. What happens when we inject this factor into the conversation?

So—I think that the biblical and theological root of the current case for CWOB bears some much closer investigation. What’s worth remembering, though, is that most people—even those taking part in the debate—-fundamentally don’t care about the biblical and theological roots. Instead they fall for the simplistic framing of CWOB being about “inclusion” or “justice”. Which it’s not. This canard reflects a self-perpetuating failure of sacramental catechesis. As a result, any form of reasoned discussion around the issue must be two-pronged. Always attend to the first point first: “inclusion” and “justice” really isn’t the issue here—we’re willing to baptize just about anyone! Only after disposing of that can you move to the real theology…

On Transference

There are two major reasons why feasts are transferred according to the Book of Common Prayer; Holy Days are transferred if they fall within the two week period that encompass Holy Week and the following Easter week, or they may be transferred if their fixed day falls on a Sunday.  The use of “may” in the second case is used advisedly. A transference must occur when a Major Feast falls on Sunday in the seasons of Advent, Christmas, Easter, or Lent, or when a Feast of Our Lord falls on a Sunday in Advent, Easter, or Lent. When a Holy Day falls on a Sunday in the Ordinal times after Epiphany and after Pentecost, it may be observed on the Sunday rather than transferred.

Transference due to Season

In the case of the Holy and Easter Week “blackout” period, only four feasts may be affected however: The Feasts of St Joseph, the Annunciation, St Mark, and Sts Philip and James. The first two and the second two are grouped together, the first set around Easter’s earliest dates, the second two around its latest.

These transferences may be charted as follows. These charts are based on two key principles:

1)      Since all Holy Days receive Eves the first open day in a week is a Tuesday so that the Eve is not impeded by a Sunday Evening Prayer. Likewise, the dates of St Mark sometimes fall after Sts Philip & James so as to avoid the Eves of either days being impeded by the other.

2)       Following the directions on BCP, p. 17, feasts are transferred in the order of their occurrence, not in order of their dignity.

Date of Easter Feast of St Joseph The Annunciation
3/22 3/31 4/2
3/23 4/1 4/3
3/24 4/2 4/4
3/25 4/3 4/5
3/26 4/4 4/6
3/27 3/19 4/5
3/28 3/19 4/6
3/29 3/19 4/7
3/30 3/19 4/8
3/31 3/19 4/9
4/1 3/19 4/10
Date of Easter Feast of St Mark Feast of Sts Philip& James
4/18 4/27 5/1
4/19 4/28 5/1
4/20 4/29 5/1
4/21 5/3 5/1
4/22 5/3 5/1
4/23 5/3 5/1
4/24 5/3 5/5
4/25 5/5 5/6

Transference due to Sundays

The next set of charts would follow a basic straight-forward pattern but for the case of the Christmas season. Three Major Feasts follow the Feast of the Nativity one after the other. Unlike Feasts of Our Lord in Christmas (i.e., the Feast of the Holy Name), Sundays in Christmas have precedence over the Major Feasts. Thus, when a Sunday falls on any of the three days after Christmas, it transfers the feasts in order. Because they always fall back to back, there are no Eves for these feasts, so they may be moved to Mondays rather than the first open Tuesday.

Otherwise, the charts follow the Dominical Letter of the year. When a Leap Year occurs, the proper procedure is to jump from one letter to the next letter in the sequence. Thus, for the year 2012, the first two months of the year follow the chart for Dominical Letter A, the remaining months follow the chart for Dominical Letter g.

Feasts falling on Sundays when the Dominical Letter is A:

Feast Celebration Date Notes
Feast of the Holy Name 1/1 The feast supersedes the Sunday
St Joseph 3/22 Always falls in Lent; see above for additional transference in case of Holy Week
St Barnabas 6/11 or 6/13 The feast may supersede a Proper Sunday but never Pentecost or Holy Trinity
Transfiguration 8/6 The feast supersedes the Sunday

Feasts falling on Sundays when the Dominical Letter is b:

Feast Celebration Date Notes
Sts Philip & James 5/3 Always falls in Easter; see above for additional transference in case of Easter Week
St James of Jerusalem 10/23 or 10/25 The feast may supersede the Sunday
The Feast of the Nativity: Christmas Day 12/25 The feast supersedes the Sunday

Feasts falling on Sundays when the Dominical Letter is c:

Feast Celebration Date Notes
St Mark 4/27 Always falls in Easter; see above for additional transference in case of Easter Week
Independence Day 7/4 The feast may supersede the Sunday; if not celebrated on the Sunday, the feast is not transferred
St James the Apostle 7/25 or 7/27 The feast may supersede the Sunday
St Mary 8/15 or 8/17 The feast should supersede the Sunday
St Stephen 12/27
St John 12/28
Holy Innocents 12/29

*Note: Years when Easter falls on April 11th or leap years when Easter falls on April 10th and the Dominical Letter is c, the Feast of St Matthias will be transferred to 2/26. This won’t happen again until 2066…

Feasts falling on Sundays when the Dominical Letter is d:

Feast Celebration Date Notes
Confession of St Peter 1/18 or 1/20 The feast may supersede the Sunday
Conversion of St Paul 1/25 or 1/27 The feast may supersede the Sunday
Visitation of the BVM 5/31 or 6/2 The feast may supersede a Proper Sunday but never an Easter Sunday  or Holy Trinity
St Luke 10/18 or 10/20 The feast may supersede the Sunday
All Saints’ Day 11/1 The feast supersedes the Sunday
St John 12/28
Holy Innocents 12/29

Feasts falling on Sundays when the Dominical Letter is e:

Feast Celebration Date Notes
Feast of the Presentation 2/2 The feast supersedes the Sunday
Sts Peter & Paul 6/29 or 7/1 The feast should supersede the Sunday
St Bartholomew 8/24 or 8/26 The feast may supersede the Sunday
Feast of the Holy Cross 9/14 or 9/16 The feast should supersede the Sunday
St Matthew 9/21 or 9/23 The feast may supersede the Sunday
St Andrew 12/2 The feast must be transferred as  the Sunday will either be Last after Trinity or Advent 1
St Thomas 12/23
Holy Innocents 12/29

Feasts falling on Sundays when the Dominical Letter is f:

Feast Celebration Date Notes
Feast of the Epiphany 1/6 The feast supersedes the Sunday
St Matthias 2/24 or 2/26 The feast may supersede a Proper Sunday but never the Last after Epiphany or a Lenten Sunday
St Michael & All Angels 9/29 or 10/1 The feast should supersede the Sunday

Feasts falling on Sundays when the Dominical Letter is g:

Feast Celebration Date Notes
Feast of the Annunciation 3/27 Always falls in Lent or Easter; see above for additional transference in case of Holy or Easter Week
Nativity of John the Baptist 6/24 or 6/26 The feast should supersede the Sunday
St Mary Magdalene 7/22 or 7/24 The feast may supersede the Sunday
Sts Simon & Jude 10/28 or 10/30 The feast may supersede the Sunday

Since over half the Sundays of the year fall into Ordinal time, there are a number of may’s and should’s here that reflect the permissions in the BCP to celebrate Holy Days on Ordinal Sundays. The decision as to whether a feast or the Sunday should be celebrated ought to be decided before the start of the liturgical year and be applied consistently. As all other decisions of this sort, the choice is a theological one and will have theological implications for the parish.

Celebrating the feasts of the biblical saints—and all of the Holy Days are either Feasts of Our Lord or celebrate biblical saints—provides an opportunity to express liturgically what the church teaches  about our ecclesiology and, ultimately, our Christology. The Christian message is not fundamentally a literary endeavor; it is not solely encapsulated in the words of the Bible. Rather, the Bible reaches its fullest expression when it is embodied in the lives of those who saturate themselves in it. Pointing to the  examples of the saints and martyrs who first spread the word of Jesus, his resurrection, and his offer of living into the divine life of God is a means of proclaiming this message. Personally, I find feasts like Sts Simon and Jude and St Matthias to be pedagogically useful—even the Scriptures don’t say much about them—and, in that sense, they reflect the largely anonymous mass of saints who have aided in the spread of the Gospel through the centuries.

Thoughts towards Infallibility and the Church

Ok—I’ve been intending to tackle this one for a while and, rightly, I do so with trepidation… My trepidation is all the greater because this cannot be a full post but must only be suggestions towards a full-on thought. (Time is quite lacking at the moment–if I shoot for the full-on thing it won’t get posted until sometime next year…)

I agree with YF and others that the fundamental difference between the Roman Catholic and Orthodox Churches over and against the others is the issue of infallibility.That’s truly what separates me as an Anglo-Catholic from Rome. I do not and, at this present time, can not accept the doctrine of infallibility as laid out in The Catechism of the Catholic Church (2nd ed.).

I’ll also note that there are a number of philosophical subtleties floating around this whole topic and, as a biblical scholar, I’m not real big on the philosophical subtleties. I’m a neo-Stoic pragmatist; some of the subtleties I’m sure I’ll miss—others I’ll simply dismiss as being overly subtle. This relates back to some things I wrote earlier and what I write here builds on these bits: On Theology and Personality and A Bit on Sin. The main points I want to drag up from these posts are as follows—from the first, I have a moderate-to-low need for theological certainty and have a decent tolerance for ambiguity. My personality doesn’t require infallibility, and saying that neither the Church nor the Scriptures are infallible doesn’t cast me into a faith crisis of any sort. From the second, one of the important manifestations of sin is the human capacity and instinct for self-deception.

As I said above, this isn’t going to be a fully worked-out post. Instead, I’d like to offer three directions that indicate the directions my thought is moving in. Perhaps later I’ll have the leisure to link them up.

I.

Ecclesiology and the Hypostatic Union

The hypostatic union is the Chalcedonian position that we’ve all heard and are wise enough now not to try and understand fully. That is, it’s the doctrine that Christ is simultaneously human and divine. The two natures exist within him simultaneously; there’s no mingling of the the natures but nor can the natures be separated. As I understand this, it means—among other things—that we can’t sort through the words and deeds recorded in the Gospels and try to sort out which actions, words, or thoughts were “human” and which “divine.”

There’s a certain mystery factor here that will have to endure that is related to our inability to wrap our heads and words around our own being, let alone God’s being.

Now—the Incarnation is about the conjunction of these natures: the Word taking flesh. Theologically there are three other loci where I believe that something similar is happening. That is, in the Holy Scriptures, the Word becomes joined to human language and words as a means of God’s self-revelation. Similarly in the Holy Eucharist, Christ becomes joined to the physical elements of bread and wine as a means of God’s self-revelation and a means of grace. Finally, in the Holy Church, Christ incorporates us into his mystical body which becomes a single organism, a living church built of living stones to use the imagery of Paul, Peter, and John.

So—if the hypostatic union is held of the Incarnation (which it is) does it, can it, to what degree can we posit or perceive it within these other three incarnational entities?

(That’s an open question, by the way, not just a rhetorical one…)

I can’t answer this right now. But here’s an interesting place where I seer this particular thought experiment moving… I wonder if one way to characterize or to examine positions related to infallibility and the nature of the Church is not to utilize the language and understandings of Chalcedon. That is, when I look at YF’s position, I find it docetic; it relies too heavily on the divine character of the church to the diminishment and exclusion of the human nature at work within it. By the same token, I’d guess that he sees mine as being too Arian—recognizing the created, limited, and fallen aspects of the Church and tending too little to the divinity of Christ shared within the Church and within which it participates.

Thus, this is a big-picture point that gives us a theological entre into the topic.

II.

Apprehension of the Good

Ok, this will get into the philosophical weeds and I have no doubt I’ll say some howlers which will be pointed out by our resident philosophy-types.

I’ll start with two sections from the Roman Catechism:

2030 It is in the Church, in communion with all the baptized, that the Christian fulfills his vocation. From the Church he receives the Word of God containing the teachings of “the law of Christ.” From the Church he receives the grace of the sacraments that sustains him on the “way.” From the Church he learns the example of holiness and recognizes its model and source in the all-holy Virgin Mary; he discerns it in the authentic witness of those who live it; he discovers it in the spiritual tradition and long history of the saints who have gone before him and whom the liturgy celebrates in the rhythms of the sanctoral cycle.

2031 The moral life is spiritual worship. We “present [our] bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God,” within the Body of Christ that we form and in communion with the offering of his Eucharist. In the liturgy and the celebration of the sacraments, prayer and teaching are conjoined with the grace of Christ to enlighten and nourish Christian activity. As does the whole of the Christian life, the moral life finds its source and summit in the Eucharistic sacrifice.

I agree with these.

My only quibble is with the first section when it draws too narrowly the model and source of the example of holiness. While I have argued something similar of the Blessed Virgin, Christ himself must not be excluded and ought to be specifically named as well.

These two sections do not touch on the issue of infallibility. The next few will move towards it. Proceeding…

2032 The Church, the “pillar and bulwark of the truth,” “has received this solemn command of Christ from the apostles to announce the saving truth.” “To the Church belongs the right always and everywhere to announce moral principles, including those pertaining to the social order, and to make judgments on any human affairs to the extent that they are required by the fundamental rights of the human person or the salvation of souls.”

I don’t even have an issue with this based on its literal meaning. I agree entirely with the first sentence—one of the central purposes of the Church is the announcement of the saving truth: the loving action of God preeminently at work in the birth, life, death,resurrection, and ascension of Christ and our call to share in his divine life. The second is true as well—the church has the right to make announcement on moral issues—but this does not ensure that the church is always right.

Proceeding…

2033 The Magisterium of the Pastors of the Church in moral matters is ordinarily exercised in catechesis and preaching, with the help of the works of theologians and spiritual authors. Thus from generation to generation, under the aegis and vigilance of the pastors, the “deposit” of Christian moral teaching has been handed on, a deposit composed of a characteristic body of rules, commandments, and virtues proceeding from faith in Christ and animated by charity. Alongside the Creed and the Our Father, the basis for this catechesis has traditionally been the Decalogue which sets out the principles of moral life valid for all men.

I don’t see anything that I must disagree with here, unless it be an assumption that the “deposit” is of a fixed nature. I would, however, order the list differently; I see it as a characterstic body of virtues, commandments, and rules proceeding from faith in Christ and animated by charity. In my counter-formulation, the list is book-ended by the virtues which take preeminence over rules and commandments. (More on this anon.)

Proceeding…

2034 The Roman Pontiff and the bishops are “authentic teachers, that is, teachers endowed with the authority of Christ, who preach the faith to the people entrusted to them, the faith to be believed and put into practice.” The ordinary and universal Magisterium of the Pope and the bishops in communion with him teach the faithful the truth to believe, the charity to practice, the beatitude to hope for.

2035 The supreme degree of participation in the authority of Christ is ensured by the charism of infallibility. This infallibility extends as far as does the deposit of divine Revelation; it also extends to all those elements of doctrine, including morals, without which the saving truths of the faith cannot be preserved, explained, or observed.

Ok—now we’ve got issues and it’s precisely with the notion of the bishops holding the authority of Christ and infallibility as an aspect of that authority. First, I’m unclear where this appears in Scripture—and I’m sure there’s a long and persistently argued set of devices and ploys used to argue these points in Catholic/Protestant apologetics so I won’t even broach that topic. Rather, I’d like to move from a different angle.

I have trouble with the term “infallible” when it’s applied either to Scripture or teachings. I assume that it means, that the Scripture or teaching is unable to fail in its purpose. But that’s clearly not the case. The intent of Scripture is to form mature disciples of Christ. Yet reading the Bible does not produce this result. The teaching of the Church is intended to, well, do the same thing. And yet it does not. Therefore “infallible” must refer to something much narrower than what it first appears to me.

The way I’ve generally heard it described is “infallible” means that the teaching is absolutely correct and is guaranteed to be true. Its truth is preserved by supernatural means. And yet when we talk about the teaching of moral truths, teaching happens in two main mutually reinforcing ways: through words and deeds. Anyone who knows their history can point out often very graphic instances where each of the main bodies of Christendom—my own included—have dramatically failed to teach the truth on its most basic level and have betrayed the Gospel we were entrusted to proclaim.  Our collective actions have most certainly not been supernaturally preserved from error.

The infallibility of the church’s teaching, therefore, must be further circumscribed. It cannot extended to the teaching that comes through action and example and must be an intellectual category only. But what kind of intellectual category is it? When it comes to the moral life in particular, are we able to apprehend the good purely in and through an intellectual state or must we participate within right action to apprehend it and its nature?

I think we could care this line of thought further but I’ll stop here. I do believe that there have been saintly bishops who have lived, apprehended, and taught the truth as found in Jesus Christ far better than I ever will. There are likely popes among that number as well. And yet, the argument for supernatural preservation of certain circumscribed parts of intellectual truth as I understand it fails to move me. Perhaps it’s because I don’t understand it rightly; perhaps it’s because I don’t regard that piece as essential for my faith. There’s probably a decent counter-argument to the moral issue that I raise that takes a line along freedom of the will and a reticence on the part of the supernatural agent against coersion—perhaps that road can be taken at a later date…

III.

On the Provisional Teaching of the Church

“There was at that time a meeting in Scetis about a brother who had sinned. The Fathers spoke, but Abba Pior kept silence. Later, he got up and went out; he took a sack, filled it with sand and carried it on his shoulder. He put a little sand also into a small bag which he carried in front of him. When the Fathers asked him what this meant he said, ‘In this sack which contains much sand are my sins which are many; I have put them behind me so as not to be troubled about them and so as not to weep; and see here are the little sins of my brother which are in front of me and I spend my time judging them. This is not right, I ought rather to carry my sins in front of me and concern myself with them, begging God to forgive me for them.’ The Fathers stood up and said, ‘Truly, this is the way of salvation.’ (Sayings of the Desert Fathers, 199-200)

In the field notes from the first great laboratory of Christian spirituality—the Egyptian and Palestinian deserts—I’m constantly amazed at how much discussion is given to not judging the sins of others. Abba Pior indicates the reason for this counsel. It’s not because what others do doesn’t effect us—it does. Rather, the issue is that judging others provides an opportunity to leave our own sins aside, to put off our own amendment of life, and to focus on the shortcomings of others.

In the main, I think that the Church’s moral teaching is mostly right. I don’t argue against infallibility because I’m an antinomian or lapse into situation ethics or because I think there should be no standards at all. There must be standards and I think the historic teaching of the church has done the best job of consistently safeguarding the central teaching required by the Gospel of Christ. I’m just not persuaded that its retention or continued teaching is infallible. From my years of concentrated study of the Scriptures, the Fathers, and the teachers of the Church, I do believe that our truest guide lies in virtue as exemplified by the character of God as revealed in Scripture and in the sacramental life of the Church. Virtue and character are, admittedly, a little fuzzier than rules and commandments. There’s more to debate and there exist in the borders between virtue and vice strips—even swathes—of grey area. And, as one who does not believe in infallibility, that’s the price I have to pay.

I don’t believe that the teaching of the Church is supernaturally preserved from error. I do believe, though, that we are supernaturally aided and that the church has been supernaturally graced in those who have taught its teachings in both word and works. None of us have been—or will be—perfect and therefore our teaching will necessarily fall short. We as individuals and as a organization composed of flawed individuals will fail to proclaim in word and example the good news of God in Christ. And yet we do believe and confess that the Holy Spirit will never abandon the Church, will not leave us orphans. The Spirit and the Bride say “Come” and we will stumble towards that voice. As long as the Church remains faithful to that calling, we will not lose our way entirely. We may even walk a more direct path as time goes on. But our knowledge of that path and our apprehension of that path will always be provisional rather than infallible. Given our capacity for and our track record of self-deception we should start worrying the most when we believe ourselves to be most right. But our constant goal is the mind, the character, and the virtue of Christ. Thus, we once more join in asking for the inspiration that, as the book says: “we may think those things that are right, and by thy merciful guiding may perform the same; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.”