Believe There is More
Published on 26 Aug 2008 at 9:29 am.
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Filed under Life Observations.
Ok, so I’m kind of a sucker for tear-jerker viral videos. I loved the Free Hugs video that came out in the fall of 2006. It was powerful and inspiring. Well, this morning Bethany sent me another one. It’s terrific, go ahead and watch it, it’s not too long.
Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.
There’s something about these videos that really gets to me, they tap in to a deep place within me that really believes there is such goodness in the world, such potential. The Free Hugs video has spawned an entire movement of people who go stand on the street with signs offering free hugs. The above video is based on an earlier video Matt Harding did with the same theme that resulted in a corporate sponsorship enabling him to make the 2008 version.
They make me want to dance. They make me want to walk up and hug someone. They make me believe that all the angry rhetoric in our Communion will not hold the day, that we are capable of much more than that. They give me hope.
And they put a smile on my face. And sometimes, that’s enough for today.
O God, you made us in your own image and redeemed us through Jesus your Son: Look with compassion on the whole human family; take away the arrogance and hatred which infect our hearts; break down the walls that separate us; unite us in bonds of love; and work through our struggle and confusion to accomplish your purposes on earth; that, in your good time, all nations and races may serve you in harmony around your heavenly throne; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
On How I Was a Supernumerary Deacon (I Think)
Published on 19 Aug 2008 at 4:30 pm.
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Filed under Anglican Thoughts.
Last Thursday in one of our clergy group meetings, I asked what we were doing in the parish for the Feast of St. Mary the Virgin. There was much laughter among the clergy at the idea of our parish doing any sort of service for the Feast of St. Mary. I was surprised, since I was taught in seminary that parishes are supposed to have special services for all of the major feasts in our calendar. Probably more true in theory than in actual practice in parishes, I’m beginning to suspect.
However, since it was a major feast day, I did feel it was necessary for me to find some service I could attend. I decided to try one of the Anglo-Catholic parishes in the area, hoping for a solemn mass. After much scouring of the internet and a few phone calls I decided upon St. Paul’s K Street, a historic Anglo-Catholic parish in the Episcopal Church.
I sent an e-mail out to the few folks I know in the DC area who might be interested in attending with me and also copied the e-mail to the curate at St. Paul’s (who I had met at the Anglican Covenant Conference in New York City earlier this year). Fr. Humphrey promptly wrote me back, asking if I’d like to vest, sit in the chancel, and administer the chalice. Since it seemed doubtful that anyone would decide to go with me on such short notice, I readily agreed and got the information about how I should vest for the service. He said appropriate vesting would be cassock for the devotions and then cassock and surplice for the solemn mass. They’d provide the rest, he said.
At about 4:25 in the afternoon, I put on my black cassock and band cincture (which I have worn twice since I bought it), put my surplice in a bag, and headed down to the King Street Trolley. I took the trolley up to King Street Metro Station, got a fare card, and took the Metro from Alexandria down to the Foggy Bottom Metro Station in Washington, DC. I got a few curious looks from people at the sight of me in my cassock, but I just smiled at them and enjoyed the ride.
Once I arrived, I went up the stairs out of the station (the escalator was broken) and began navigating my way to the church. I found my way inside and sat up at a pew near St. Paul’s shrine to Our Lady of Walsingham. The parish is beautiful and dark and as I sat in the pew it felt as if I’d gone back in time. The clergy came out of the sacristy at 5:30 and Fr. Humphrey gestured for me to come near him. Everyone stood around the shrine as a lay person led us in the devotions. The lay person passed out a stack of cards, indicating everyone should take a few. As I took my share of the cards I saw that they were prayer requests people had left at the shrine. We said the Salve Regina along with some other prayers and then went around the group, offering up the intercessions that were on our cards. After all the cards had been read (around 40), we said some more prayers and then dispersed.
Fr. Humphrey invited me up into the sacristy to meet people and prepare for mass. I had been planning on attending evening prayer before mass, but it quickly became evident that I was going to be otherwise occupied. He introduced me as one of the “supernumerary deacons,” I think. I’m not sure. I couldn’t quite catch the word and have tried googling it this morning to no helpful result. I think it just means that I was an extra deacon.
I met the Master of Ceremonies and the Assistant Master of Ceremonies who took me into the chancel to explain how things would work. As I realized this service was going to be much more complex than when I had served chalice at other times, I began to wish I had a notebook to take notes. I listened carefully and began praying that I wouldn’t screw up or break something. He told me that, since I was serving, after the Lord’s Prayer I was supposed to go to. He said some strange words, it sounded French or Latin maybe. I said, “Sorry, where do I go?” And he said it again. I said, “I’m sorry, I work at a very low parish, we just have a small altar in our chancel, I don’t know any of the fancy words for a big chancel area.” So he gave it another name. “Sorry, I don’t know what that is either.” Then he said, “The top step of the altar.” “Ohhh,” I said, “I know what that is, thanks!”
I think he was a little nervous at me serving from that point on.
We went back in the sacristy and once everyone was gathered, the MC’s came around and vested all the clergy with copes. I had never worn a cope before, but was excited at the prospect. My immediate thought when it was put on me was, man, this thing is heavy. I snuck over towards a mirror to see what it looked like. I wish I’d had a camera. I went back to where I was standing and all the other lay and clergy participants began to gather in a circle. The MC’s passed out cards with a small prayer service we were apparently going to do before mass. After handing me mine, the assistant MC graciously nudged me to the other side of circle, to stand with the clergy. We all faced one direction (north, not east, to my surprise) and began the prayers.
Fr. Humphrey made the sign of the cross, saying, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” He then joined his hands and said, “I will go unto the altar of God.” We all responded, “Even unto the God of my joy and gladness.” The prayers continued, as the priest and the ministers went back and forth, praying for God’s forgiveness. I think we were using the English (Knott) Missal and I noticed aspects of the Sarum rite in what we did. Specifically, during the confession, when the priest first prayed the prayer of confession to us and we all prayed for God to forgive him. Then we prayed the prayer of confession and he gave us absolution.
After we finished the prayers I felt more more prepared than I’ve ever felt to enter the Divine Liturgy. We lined up in the hall way and processed out of the sacristy. We walked slowly from the sacristy the the chancel, clouds of incense filing the air with a rich and heavy scent while the choir sang the introit taken from Revelation 12:1 and Psalm 98:1:
There appeared a great sign in heaven: a Woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet: and upon her head a crown of twelve stars. Ps. O sing unto the Lord a new song: for he hath done marvelous things. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end.
The deacon sang out, “Let us go forth in peace,” to which the congregation responded, “In the name of Christ, Amen.” Then as we sang Sing We of the Blessed Mother, the whole procession, choir and all, exited the chancel, processed down the middle aisle to the back of the church, turned right, processed up the side aisle, turned right again and processed so that we were all standing between the pews and the chancel steps. Then everyone turned around to face the way we had come (so that we were all now facing the Shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham). We then prayed some more.
Celebrant Hail Mary, full of grace; the Lord is with thee,
People Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of they womb.
Celebrant Let us pray. O God, who didst vouchsafe that thy Word should be made flesh in the womb of the Blessed Virgin Mary at the message of an Angel: grant to us thy humble servants ; that we, believing her to be indeed the Mother of God, may by her intercession find favour in thy sight. Through the same Jesus Christ thy Son, our Lord. Who liveth and reigneth with thee in the unity of the Holy Ghost, ever one God, world without end. Amen.
Then we sang what I think was the actual opening hymn of the mass, Immaculate Mary, Thy Praises We Sing, and we processed back the way we came, down the side aisle to the back of the church and then back up the middle aisle and into the chancel. We reached the steps of the altar and the AMC gestured for us to stop and told each group when to genuflect then led us back to our seats. The opening acclamation was called the “Station at the Chancel Steps,”
Celebrant Be glad, O ye righteous, and rejoice in the Lord.
People And be joyful, all ye that are pure of heart.
Celebrant Let us pray. O God, who didst endue with singular grace the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Mother of our God and Savior Jesus Christ; grant us to follow her example of humility and purity; through the same Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee in the unity of the Holy Ghost, one God, world without end. Amen.
The choir then sang the Kyrie eleison and the Gloria in excelsis, both of which were magnificent. In fact, all of the service music was magnificent. I found afterwards that the setting of the mass we had used was from the Missa Brevis, Opus 50, composed by Kenneth Leighton. Then we moved on to the Collect of the Day and I realize we were finally in a place in the service that I recognized. This put me a bit more at ease.
The lessons clearly grew in solemnity during this part of the liturgy. The Old Testament lesson was read by a lay person, the choir sang the Psalm and then the subdeacon chanted the epistle. The sequence hymn was Tell Out My Soul, one of my favorites and clearly appropriate to this feast day. We then sang a rather alleluia with the verse with the cantor chanting the verse in between, “Mary is taken up into heaven: the hosts of angels rejoice.” Then the deacon chanted the gospel. The chanting of texts was particularly exciting for me to hear. We learned how to do it in the Senior Chant Practicum at Sewanee, but I had yet to see it done in a liturgy. The preacher spoke well, though his sermon seemed to spend an awful lot of time arguing how Marian devotion was appropriate (a little too much “preaching to the choir,” if you ask me). We then sang a rather complex plainsong setting of the Nicene Creed (Mode V, if you know what that means) followed by the deacon leading us sung prayers of the people. The peace was nice, though very decently and in order, as I would have expected.
At the offertory I got to watch all the work that went into setting up the altar. The Antiphon was set to Tone II and was the sentence, “I will put emnity between thee and the woman: and between thy seed and her seed.” That was followed by one of Rachmaninoff’s motets, “Hail Virgin Mother of God” (from the All-Night Vigil, Opus 37).
Bogoróditse dyévo, raduisya,
Blagodatnaya Mariye
Gospod s Toboyu.
Blagoslovenna Ty v zhenakh,
I blagosloven plod chreva Tvoyevo,
Yako Spasa rodila yesi dush nashikhHail, Virgin Mother of God,
Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee;
Blessed art thou among women,
And blessed is the fruit of thy womb,
For thou gavest birth to the Saviour of our souls.
Then we were all censed, each in order. The celebrant offered the intentions of the mass and praying the “Orate fratres ac sorores,”
Celebrant Pray, my brothers and sisters: that this our sacrifice may be acceptable unto God the Father Almighty.
People May the Lord receive this sacrifice at thy hands, to the praise and glory of his Name, to our benefit and that of his holy Church.
Then the Eucharistic Prayer (Rite I, of course) began. The thurible kept smoking and so more and more clouds of incense rose in the chancel area and the line from Isaiah 6, “The pivots on the thresholds shook at the voices of those who called, and the house filled with smoke.” Indeed, as the Celebrant sang the prayer, moving his hands among the elements, assisted by the deacon, I could feel the palpable weight of the service pressing upon me and was sorely tempted to cry out like Isaiah, “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!”
At the conclusion of the Eucharistic Prayer, the celebrant offered one of my favorite invitations (I wish it was an option in our Prayer Book),
Celebrant †Behold the Lamb of God; behold him that taketh away the sins of the world.
People Lord, I am not worthy that thou shouldest come under my roof: but speak the word only, and my soul shall be healed.
At this point, I rose from my prie-dieu and took the stole that was lying across it, laying it over my left shoulder and tying it at my waist. (Fr. Humphrey told me that it was custom at this church to only put on the stole when doing explicitly clerical things like celebrating, serving communion, or preaching. I went to the top step, with great fear and trembling, and was once again grateful for an eastward facing altar (because the people couldn’t see me). Fr. Humphrey led us all to genuflect together, then handed me a chalice and gave me some brief, but very calm instructions that helped allay my anxiety. I made my way down the steps only to be stopped by an AMC who wanted to “fix” my stole.
“You just need to hang it around your neck,” he said.
“No,” I responded, “I’m a deacon it’s supposed to be across my shoulder like this.
“No, just around your neck, here let me get it for you.” He reached over to untie the stole.
“No, trust me,” I said, “I’m a deacon, this is how it is worn.”
“Ok, fine,” he said, though he clearly still thought I was wrong. I mentioned it to Fr. Humphrey later and he said he was a new MC and must have been confused because I obviously should not wear a stole like a priest. I was glad that I stood my ground.
The choir sang a lovely setting of Agnus Dei while we administered communion. There were several people who wanted me to dip the bread in the wine for them and then place it in their mouth, something I had not done very often before. As we neared the end, I ran out of wine and went to the MC. The other chalice bearer finished up the last couple on my rail and then Fr. Humprey directed him to give me his chalice and for me to follow Fr. Humphrey down into the nave to bring communion to a couple people who could not make the stairs.
This was the coolest part.
We went down into the nave, walking slowly with great solemnity, with a crucifer going with us. As we walked near the first person, I noticed that everyone genuflected when we approached. Then we went to the other side to administer communion to the other person and, again, it was like a sea of genuflection as we walked. The power of the sacrament for that parish community was powerful, especially to me, a guest.
We said the postcommunion prayer, Fr. Humprey blessed us, and the deacon sang the dismissal. The MC’s masterfully guided everyone to line up properly, gesturing when to genuflect again, and then led us out of the chancel and back to the sacristy. Fr. Humphrey asked me to come out into the nave and stand at one of the side doors to greet people as they left while he went to the main door, and I happily obliged. Everyone was very friendly and warmly welcomed me to come back and visit anytime. To be honest, I felt more like I was being greeted than I was doing the greeting.
Afterwards, Fr. Humphrey took me to dinner at a nice restaurant in DC where we unpacked the service a little and talked about Anglo-Catholic theology and spirituality. That conversation was splendid, but is probably best left for another blog post. The one thing he said that really stood out to me, was that it was important for there to be parishes in TEC who ministered to the more conservative in our church. As someone who believes strongly that to be truly catholic means to be concerned with the whole of Christendom, his comments resonated with me and will be something I’ll have to ponder for sometime to come.
He said he’ll invite me back a few more times so I can get a bit more experience with that sort of liturgy, and I’ll be sure to go back myself just to be in the pew. It was a glorious night and though it was a long train ride back to King Street with a long walk to my car in my black cassock, I felt fed and at peace with God and the world.
O God, who hast taken to thyself the blessed Virgin Mary, mother of thy incarnate Son: Grant that we, who have been redeemed by his blood, may share with her the glory of thine eternal kingdom; through the same thy Son Jesus Christ our
Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
On Believing in Hell
Published on 15 Aug 2008 at 2:30 pm.
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Filed under Anglican Thoughts, Theology.
Some of you know that RealLivePreacher is one of my favorite blogs. I started reading it back when I first moved to Texas and his relentlessly honest blog entries about Christianity, himself, and life as an ordained Baptist minister were at once provocative and wildly entertaining. For those who are preaching this Sunday, his retelling of this Sunday’s Gospel lesson (the story of the Canaanite woman who begs Jesus to heal her demon possessed child only to have Jesus tell her that God’s food is for his children [i.e., Jews] not the dogs [i.e., Gentiles]) remains I think the most powerful interpretation of the story I’ve ever read (you can read it here: The Smallest Person in the World).
Well, currently, RLP is engaging in a study on the doctrine of Hell (see his opening post here). The gist seems to be that he doesn’t find most people’s idea of hell to be one that is terribly biblical and so he is trying to do an indepth biblical study to come to some conclusions about what Christians can and should believe about hell. I was going to sit this one out, but his questions have really been itching at my mind, and so this morning I wrote him an e-mail with my thoughts. The e-mail, however, is rather long, full of quotes, and may not answer his questions very fairly or very well. So, I figured I’d try to formulate some of my own thoughts on it here.
Caveat Emptor
I think that some of the initial hopes for this study are dubious. I think a “solely Scriptural” study of hell will run into the same sorts of problems that a “solely Scriptural” stud of the Trinity would. Now, I grew up in the Churches of Christ, so I understand the desire, the drive, to find the “biblical” answer to a doctrinal question. However, the idea that a solely “biblical” answer to a religious question will be the best answer is a concept I left behind me when I left the Churches of Christ. I believe that theology evolves, that Jesus meant it when he said he would send the Spirit to guide us into all truth. Now of course, that doesn’t mean that all development in doctrine is a good thing, but it does mean that doctrine can and will develop. And, perhaps most importantly, it means no matter what ridiculous things members of the Church may say from time to time, the Spirit will continue to work to guide us into all truth.
What Scripture Teaches
Most of the Scriptural references to hell (especially those found in the New Testament) are talking about Gehenna. The Book of Joshua tells us that Gehenna was a place on the boundary between the tribes of Judah and Benjamin, Gehenna being an abbreviation for the Valley of Hinnom. There are several references in the Hebrew Bible to the site being the location of human sacrifices to Baal and Molech, thus leading to its reputation as an unholy place. The term is frequently used in extrabiblical Jewish writings and applies there to a fiery abyss, place of darkness, chains, etc.
The word is used twelve times in the New Testament. In McBrien’s masterful theological encyclopedia, Catholicism, his overview of the Scriptural use of Gehenna is helpful:
Gehenna is mentioned seven times in Matthew, three times in Mark, once in Luke, and once in James. It is a place of unquenchable fire (Mk 9:43; Mt 5:22; 18:9; James 3:6), a pit into which people are cast (Mt 5:29-30; 18:9; Mk 9:45, 47; Lk 12:5). The wicked are destroyed there (Mt. 10:28). The place is described, although not named, elsewhere (e.g., Mt 3:10, 12; 7:19; Lk 3:9, 17). It is the final destination of the wicked (Rev. 19:20; 20:9-15; 21:28). It is a final place of weeping and gnashing of teeth (Mt. 8:12; 13:42, 50; 22:13; 24:51; 25:30), where the worm does not die (Mk 9:48); it is shrouded in darkness (Mt. 8:12, 22:13; 25:30).
Jesus and the early church clearly do not come from the tradition of the Sadducees. Rather, they believe that death is not the end, that this world is more than what we can see with our eyes. Furthermore, they are people who have been raised on the Hebrew Bible and were probably familiar with Jewish apocalptic literature. Thus, when describing those who would reject God, Jesus chose the language of Gehenna.
What the Church Teaches
In the ancient Apostles’ creed, we also affirm that Christ descended into hell (descendit ad inferna), an act that is usually associated with Holy Saturday. (The third of the 39 Articles also affirms this belief.) The doctrine of Jesus descent into hell, usually called his Anastasis or the “Harrowing of Hell,” is provocative. It suggests that no place is beyond God’s reach, that Christ even travels ad inferna so that no one loses the opportunity for redemption. God’s mercy reaches across metaphysical space and offers redemption for those who will turn from themselves towards God. The farther you are from God, the more difficult that turning becomes, but God’s mercy is always there, always present.
“Only the Greatest of all can make Himself small enough to enter Hell. For the higher a thing is, the lower it can descend–a man can sympathise with a horse but a horse cannot sympathise with a rat. Only One has descended into Hell.”
“And will He ever do so again?”
“It was not once long ago that He did it. Time does not work that way when once ye have left Earth. All moments that have been or shall be were, or are, present in the moment of His descending. There is no spirit in prison to Whom he did not preach.”
CS Lewis, The Great Divorce, 123.
Here my theological training fails me but I hope my love for CS Lewis will prop me up. In The Great Divorce, Lewis suggest that those who are in hell have the opportunity to leave hell and enter heaven. However, the journey is difficult because they must stop clinging to the sins which they chose instead of God, primarily, the sin of self-regard. For those who journey out of hell and into heaven, for them hell was in reality purgatory.
Given all of eternity, it may yet be that all things will come within the reach of God’s saving embrace. It might be that all things will be redeemed, that each of us just choose to take a different amount of time to choose to enter into the Divine Life. I don’t know. I do know, though, that there must be room in our theology for people to reject God. Otherwise he becomes a power-hungry entity, insistent that all persons love him. And that is not the God I worship. I also know this, God’s love does indeed reach powerfully across barriers and through fences, all the things we erect in our lives. And if we will but turn towards him, if we will step out of the bus from hell onto the hard grass of sanctification, his love will support and strengthen throughout all our journey.
Eternal Lord God, you hold all souls in life: Give to your whole Church in paradise and on earth your light and your peace; and grant that we, following the good examples of those who have served you here and are now at rest, may at the last enter with them into your unending joy; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
On the Eve of the Assumption
Published on 14 Aug 2008 at 3:08 pm.
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Filed under Anglican Thoughts.
Tomorrow morning Bethany leaves for the weekend and it will just be Cappadocian and me at the house in Alexandria. I’ve already have one major activity planned for tomorrow night. I’ll be heading up the road into Washington, DC for the services St. Paul’s-K Street is planning for the Feast of St. Mary the Virgin. At 5:30 PM there are devotions at St. Paul’s Shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham, followed by Angelus and Evening prayer at 5:45 PM and then a solemn mass at 6:00 PM.
I’ve heard a lot of good things about St. Paul’s and have been very curious about going there. However, pitching my tent with the faithful here at Christ Church does not leave much opportunities for exploring other parishes. Since Christ Church doesn’t do any special services for the Feast of St. Mary, and St. Paul’s is in the evening, I think I’ll take the opportunity to go and scout out the land. I was hoping some of the clergy from Christ Church might want to go with me, but everyone is either busy or not interested. And, since I don’t really know many people in this area, especially who would be interested in this sort of thing, it looks like I’ll be going solo. Unless, of course, someone in the DC area turns up and wants to go with me. We’ll see.
Regardless, though, I’m looking forward to the evening. Growing up in the Churches of Christ, Mary never occupied an important place in our theology (other than the usual Protestant Anti-Catholic polemic). That line of thought never took hold of me and I started praying the rosary (with “Hail Mary’s”) while I was in Texas. While visiting one of my priest friends near Indianapolis one weekend, he introduced me to Compline with Benediction, complete with the hymn Salve Regina:
Hail, holy Queen, Mother of Mercy,
our life, our sweetness and our hope.
To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve;
to thee do we send up our sighs,
mourning and weeping in this valley of tears.Turn then, most gracious advocate,
thine eyes of mercy toward us;
and after this our exile,
show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary.
Since that time Our Lady has occupied a more and more important place in my own spirituality. The Magnificat, her spontaneous song of praise when Elizabeth visits her, is a beautiful foretelling of what the coming of Jesus will mean for the world, the casting down of the proud and the lifting up of the lowly. And she would have a place in it. A young, unmarried, pregnant woman would carry God in her womb. And so I’d imagine her voice was hushed when she said in dawning realization, “From this day forth, all generations will call me blessed.”
Throughout Mary’s life, she followed her son. She pointed to him at the wedding in Cana, urging the people to listen to him, and she followed him throughout his ministry in Galilee. When his male disciples, who would later become the leaders of the church in the Twelve Apostles, fled in his hour of vulnerability, Mary still stayed with him. Perhaps, having understood in her own life the way God could do wondrous things in the midst of human vulnerability, she had faith that something more would happen. Or maybe she stayed with him just because he was her son, and what mother could possibly leave her son in that sort of a situation. Either way, she was clearly devoted to her son. She was Theotokos, “God-bearer,” and in so doing teaches us how we might bear God in our own lives.
In one of Grunewald’s paintings of the crucifixion, the one that hangs in my office, Mary is kneeling on the ground, her hands clasped in prayer as her son’s body hangs on the cross. The tradition of the church suggests that Mary’s intimate relationship to her son continues in Heaven, where she joins her prayers with ours, where that young, scared, unmarried, pregnant girl has become “Holy Queen, mother of mercy.” And so, in the Salve Regina above we pray that she will continue to do what she did in her life, that she will show us the blessed fruit of her womb, Jesus our Savior.
V./ Pray for us O holy Mother of God,
R./ that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.
Let us pray. Almighty, everlasting God, who by the co-operation of the Holy Ghost didst prepare the body and soul of the glorious Virgin-Mother Mary to become a dwelling-place meet for thy Son: grant that as we rejoice in her commemoration; so by her fervent intercession we may be delivered from present evils and from everlasting death. Through the same Christ our Lord. Amen.
What Gamaliel Said to You and Me This Morning
Published on 12 Aug 2008 at 4:14 pm.
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Filed under Anglican Thoughts.
The New Testament lesson from the Office today has really stuck with me. It’s a story that many have bandied about in The Current Unpleasantness as a possible model for what the Anglican Communion should do about the controversy regarding the gifts of our GLBT brothers and sisters. The story was that of Gamaliel, a story which gives rise to what is often called “The Gamaliel Principle.” The basic story is that the Sanhedrin had previously instructed the apostles to cease preaching in the name of Jesus. Peter answered that they had no choice in the matter, they had to obey God and proclaim Jesus, the same man that the Sanhedrin had ordered put to death who God had raised up and exalted. The Sanhedrin was enraged and wanted to put the whole lot of them to death.
Then Gamaliel stood up and said,
Fellow Israelites, consider carefully what you propose to do to these men. For some time ago Theudas rose up, claiming to be somebody, and a number of men, about four hundred, joined him; but he was killed, and all who followed him were dispersed and disappeared. After him Judas the Galilean rose up at the time of the census and got people to follow him; he also perished, and all who followed him were scattered. So in the present case, I tell you, keep away from these men and let them alone; because if this plan or this undertaking is of human origin, it will fail; but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow them—in that case you may even be found fighting against God!
This story is made even more interesting and complex, given the Talmudic traditions surrounding the great 1st century Rabbi Gamaliel. His teaching emphasized a scrupulous approach to the law and authored many legal ordinances. The Mishnah contains this epigraph regarding his influence, “Since Rabban Gamaliel the Elder died, there has been no more reverence for the law, and purity and abstinence died out at the same time.” However, even given the legal emphases of his teaching, he supported more progressive interpretation of other issues. He believed Sabbath laws should be less rigorous and more realistic, argued that the law should protect women in divorce, and fought for better relations between Jews and Gentiles.
This was the man who stood up to the Sanhedrin and counseled patience. “If this plan or this undertaking is of human origin, it will fail; but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow them—in that case you may even be found fighting against God!”
In the world of the Anglican Communion, this “Gamaliel Principle” is often suggested as the best approach to The Episcopal Church and the Anglican Church of Canada. People say, “Let those provinces do what they are doing, leave them alone. If it’s of God, it will succeed. If it’s not, it will fail.” And, to be honest, I think that it would be pretty good advice for our more conservative brothers and sisters to take.
But I’m not one of them, and so it doesn’t help me. And I doubt many of them read this blog. I doubt that they are you. Perhaps that’s why this morning the second half of that verse is what stuck out to me. “If it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow them—in that case you may even be found fighting against God!”
I believe very strongly that complete honesty and full recognition of the gifts and vocations of the GLBT Christians in our midst is a Holy Spirit breathed movement in the life of the Christian Church. I believe God is at work leading his people into all truth, making further evident the radical and transforming power of the Kingdom of God by calling all people, gay or straight, into holy lifestyles characterized by Christian virtues of love, kindness, and faithfulness. And it is because of that belief that Gamaliel’s principle says something different to me: it says that if indeed this movement is of God then no one will be able to overthrow it. No Global South primate or TEC bishop intent on bolting from the National Church. No conservative action group, no angry and vocal minority. No one will be able to overthrow it because they’d be fighting with God, with the Holy and Divine Trinity, a Trinity that is at work to draw all people into the Divine life.
No one can stop that.
So perhaps I’ll go ahead and take all of the different interpretations of Lambeth, each little bit of news of some bishop or group trying to leave TEC, all of that with a grain of salt. Because I believe God is doing this and I believe God’s intentions with regard to God’s GLBT children will not–cannot–be frustrated.
Grant us, O Lord, to trust in you with all our hearts; for, as you always resist the proud who confide in their own strength,
so you never forsake those who make their boast of your mercy; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
