This is like watching a train-wreck, and it kills me; there are people I care about in the Church of the Nazarene. And it's horrible to watch the denomination that helped introduce you to Jesus Christ as Lord flirting (in some segments of her constituency) with Arian/Gnostic flavours of the month. Now, this sounds alarmist because there's nothing substantial - that is, demonstrably substantial - taking place yet; but many of us have seen this coming for a long time.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=22A48jCstJI
This is Nina Gunter at the M7 Conference with her frank assessment of the major challenges to the Church of the Nazarene.
And kudos to Kody for this one...
http://emergentnazarenes.blogspot.com/2008/04/emergent-church-in-nazarene-manual.html
This latter link is small, ambiguous, and yet to be fully seen in all its glory, but it worries me. Many Nazarenes seem to have a huge fascination with the 'Emergent Church,' failing to recognise this as yet another liberal (in the modern philosophical/theological sense) surrender of Christianity under other a priori agendas and concerns. As our Nazarene professor/leader Steve Hoskins has observed in this article, what Wesleyan-Holiness peoples desperately need at this point in history is something - anything - of a liturgical identity. The Church of the Nazarene is currently caught up in a 100-year-old identity crisis, not only between its various schools of thought concerning 'holiness' (as has been the historical case) and the Anglican vs. evangelical Protestant tension, but now the secret struggle with liberalism (again, modern theological term).
The 'Emergent Church' (yes, in the Nazarene manifestation, it's as arrogant as it sounds) is no solution for the Church of the Nazarene's current crisis; in fact, it only complicates the problem. Yes, we live in a post-modern world. Yes, we need to be reflective about who we are as Christians. Embracing further ambiguity because it glitters with 'social justice' and 'openness' only further compromises what has been compromised in dogma.
I'll spare my meta-commentary, because everyone know where I stand; I've left the denomination to be reconciled to the [Catholic] Church, if that's any indication of anything. I have doubts that the Church of the Nazarene will even be around (at least in any recognisable form) in the next hundred years, but embracing the Emergent Church in baby-steps is a sure-fire way to abandon any hope of an identity altogether. When church bus programmes were the 'next big thing,' we bought into that and suffered financially. If Nazarenes bank too heavily on the 'Emergent movement' because it's the next big thing, the Nazarene denomination will lose itself when the movement goes out of style.
-Rick
It is a haunted place, haunted by old gods and now by new people possessed by spirits all their own. Jungians from all over are drawn here as irresistibly as flies to pheromones, knowing that they can find in this enchanted sky-country the very incarnations of their archetypes and demons.
01 April 2008
31 March 2008
Here's How You Do It
'The man who says, "My critically discerning intellect can no longer credit the doctrine of the Trinity" typically means "I'm sleeping with my neighbor's wife."' -G.K. Chesterton
Glory be to you,
My Lord, my God,
My Saviour and my Love!
My Lord, my God,
I'd prefer to cut this corner, You understand,
My Saviour who is my Love!
My Lord, my God,
I cut the corner, lit the match,
And I know You understand,
My Saviour, my love!
My Lord, eternal God,
I lit the match, and I know you understand
(And just one just one more just one more corner),
My Saviour, my love.
My Lord, God, Saviour -
I'll still capitalise Your metaphors.
I eat the matches and know you understand
And I know you understand
And I know you understand,
My lovely Saviour.
My lovely Saviour,
I'll still capitalise your terms of use,
And I know you approve
My love.
[. . .Amen?]
-Rick
Glory be to you,
My Lord, my God,
My Saviour and my Love!
My Lord, my God,
I'd prefer to cut this corner, You understand,
My Saviour who is my Love!
My Lord, my God,
I cut the corner, lit the match,
And I know You understand,
My Saviour, my love!
My Lord, eternal God,
I lit the match, and I know you understand
(And just one just one more just one more corner),
My Saviour, my love.
My Lord, God, Saviour -
I'll still capitalise Your metaphors.
I eat the matches and know you understand
And I know you understand
And I know you understand,
My lovely Saviour.
My lovely Saviour,
I'll still capitalise your terms of use,
And I know you approve
My love.
[. . .Amen?]
-Rick
27 March 2008
Heaven and Hell
Heaven and Hell
I would write a poem about it (and might still), but it would be completely impenetrable and I don't really have time before my odd work shift today.This is just a quick scratch of the surface. Before last Saturday night, in my entire life, I would avoid sin because it existed in my mind as an abstract 'bad' separating me from God. I would live virtuously because it existed in my mind as an abstract 'good.' When I would sin, I would pray a prayer for forgiveness and move on. In all honesty, though, I found temptation particularly overpowering because it was abstract terms against abstract terms, and there was no distinction between mortal or venial sins, leading to a sort of despair/disillusionment and spiritual slothfulness.
On Monday, I sinned in a big way (not in the worst way I ever have, but it was still bad), and it shocked me how different everything was. I'm living a new life. After the chrism oil anointing and the Church's welcoming service, sin is a very specific stab in Jesus' side now, and it is a very specific separation from God. There's this indescribable horror, pain, and sorrow upon sinning, mostly (imperfectly and initially) in knowing that I can't partake in His Body in a state of mortal sin. It is a literal separation from God's life that can be felt in tangible pangs. -Hell.
On the flip-side of that topic (since there have been many questions and little time for me to blog), the Mass truly is and was heaven, and at the Easter Vigil I experienced it as such. There is very little that can be said to explain the actual experience or the emotional high all bound together; one of the most central and poignant realisations is that you are finally giving honour to and partaking in our Lord's Body and Blood, finally walking that path as Christians have for thousands of years, finally being united in the literal Communion of the saints. The accidence of Wine brought literal warmth to my mouth as I knelt there looking at the large crucifix with the image of our Lord, filled with love. 'Welcome home,' everyone said, and it is.
-Rick
19 March 2008
...Many Roles, Part 2 [A Fuller Picture]
. . .Well, it's a good stab, but I left out details. And forgetting other the important details amounts to not mentioning them.
We all stood with a fresh reminder of our guilt, and that's what caused my tears. However, what brought beauty and more cause for tears to the whole experience was the fact that the Mass would (and did) proceed as usual. As usual, there were myriads of reminders of God's mercy and grace laced throughout the Mass - reminders of the Beauty of who our God is glimpsed in His deigning to be toward us as He has been and is. To sum it up: We read Jesus' Passion and I remembered how we ourselves have participated in the mocking and crucifixion of our Lord, only to hear the words of Jesus again: 'This is My Body, broken for you . . .'. Even though we have done no better than Peter in his denying the Lord, the Mass proceeded as usual, and everyone moved forward to receive the Lord who has redeemed us.
-Rick
We all stood with a fresh reminder of our guilt, and that's what caused my tears. However, what brought beauty and more cause for tears to the whole experience was the fact that the Mass would (and did) proceed as usual. As usual, there were myriads of reminders of God's mercy and grace laced throughout the Mass - reminders of the Beauty of who our God is glimpsed in His deigning to be toward us as He has been and is. To sum it up: We read Jesus' Passion and I remembered how we ourselves have participated in the mocking and crucifixion of our Lord, only to hear the words of Jesus again: 'This is My Body, broken for you . . .'. Even though we have done no better than Peter in his denying the Lord, the Mass proceeded as usual, and everyone moved forward to receive the Lord who has redeemed us.
-Rick
17 March 2008
There Are Many Assorted Roles
We turned the page, and I cried. The simple truth caught me off-guard. There is so much more to Catholic liturgy than the aesthetic elements, but in this case the poignant aesthetics conjoined with the poetic substance and it all struck me suddenly, violently, with jarring realism of the truth.
There are many assorted roles to play in Jesus' final hours. The Gospel reading had been arranged in such a different way that several persons around the congregation took up the persona of the different characters, and the Gospel reading today retold the Passion of our Lord - His anguish, His betrayal, His last words to the disciples, His trial, His crucifixion, His death. The lector narrated. Someone a few rows forward read Judas's betrayal and anguish. Someone far away on the other side of the sanctuary took up Peter's defiant words of loyalty. Father Bernard spoke Jesus' words.
We listened as observers. We turned the page, and I noticed bold text further down the page. Momentarily losing attention in the reading, I glanced over at the bold text, which indicated what we would read, the responsive reading, our part in the unfolding story. The realisation, each and every word, horrified and broke me. . . .'Prophesy! Which one of us hit you?' 'Give us Barabbas!' 'Crucify him! Crucify him!' 'May his blood be upon us and our children!' 'Hail, King of the Jews!' 'He saved others but cannot save Himself. Let Him come down from the cross so we may believe in him.' Each careless utterance, each reckless insult piled onto the last. The first words out of our mouths were the damning testimony of the witnesses. Our words were the words of the angry crowds. We ourselves were the sinners who crucified our Lord.
The last entry was fairly forced; at least for the moment (considering what is all around and just ahead), besides being out of time, I've really lost quite a bit of interest at all in writing arguments. It's not that I think the arguments are absolutely useless or anything like that. It's simply that, at this point, I'm overjoyed, overwhelmed, and generally rendered overly speechless at what is whirling around me.
Kudos to Betsy (via Liz) and Jeff . . .
'From the time I became a Catholic, of course I have no further history of my religious opinions to narrate. In saying this, I do not mean to say that my mind has been idle, or that I have given up thinking on theological subjects; but that I have had no variations to record, and have no anxiety of heart whatever . . . It was like coming into port after a rough sea; and my happiness on that score remains to this day without interruption.'
-Venerable John Henry Cardinal Newman, Apologia pro vita sua
There are many assorted roles to play in Jesus' final hours. The Gospel reading had been arranged in such a different way that several persons around the congregation took up the persona of the different characters, and the Gospel reading today retold the Passion of our Lord - His anguish, His betrayal, His last words to the disciples, His trial, His crucifixion, His death. The lector narrated. Someone a few rows forward read Judas's betrayal and anguish. Someone far away on the other side of the sanctuary took up Peter's defiant words of loyalty. Father Bernard spoke Jesus' words.
We listened as observers. We turned the page, and I noticed bold text further down the page. Momentarily losing attention in the reading, I glanced over at the bold text, which indicated what we would read, the responsive reading, our part in the unfolding story. The realisation, each and every word, horrified and broke me. . . .'Prophesy! Which one of us hit you?' 'Give us Barabbas!' 'Crucify him! Crucify him!' 'May his blood be upon us and our children!' 'Hail, King of the Jews!' 'He saved others but cannot save Himself. Let Him come down from the cross so we may believe in him.' Each careless utterance, each reckless insult piled onto the last. The first words out of our mouths were the damning testimony of the witnesses. Our words were the words of the angry crowds. We ourselves were the sinners who crucified our Lord.
The last entry was fairly forced; at least for the moment (considering what is all around and just ahead), besides being out of time, I've really lost quite a bit of interest at all in writing arguments. It's not that I think the arguments are absolutely useless or anything like that. It's simply that, at this point, I'm overjoyed, overwhelmed, and generally rendered overly speechless at what is whirling around me.
Kudos to Betsy (via Liz) and Jeff . . .
'From the time I became a Catholic, of course I have no further history of my religious opinions to narrate. In saying this, I do not mean to say that my mind has been idle, or that I have given up thinking on theological subjects; but that I have had no variations to record, and have no anxiety of heart whatever . . . It was like coming into port after a rough sea; and my happiness on that score remains to this day without interruption.'
-Venerable John Henry Cardinal Newman, Apologia pro vita sua
'Our entry into the Church is settled, which gives me, not so much exhilaration as a deep peace; to quote my own words: A sense of homecoming, of picking up the threads of a lost life, of responding to a bell that had long been ringing, of taking a place at a table that had long been vacant.'
-Malcolm Muggerridge
-Rick
-Malcolm Muggerridge
-Rick
15 March 2008
Reasons to Not Become Catholic, Part IV: The Sacrament of Penance
The other day, a friend asked me something along these lines: 'In Catholicism, what is the relationship between the physical and the spiritual?' Ultimately, this is what's in question in all of the Sacraments, and the Sacrament of Penance specifically demonstrates the Catholic view of reality/grace/etc. Catholic Christianity is rooted in the understanding that, in the person of Jesus Christ (fully God and fully man), God has redeemed humanity and has done so in such a way that touches both the tangible/physical and intangible/spiritual aspects of our being. To put it in more grandiose terms, heaven and earth have been stitched back together in unity (in the present perfect tense) through Jesus Christ, the Son of God and Son of Man.
Thus, we go to the priest to receive absolution, because absolution is not just a mental 'exercise' - some kind of private, isolated, spiritual 'digital-cable' connection to the spiritual God. Absolution is through God, but this God became flesh, established a regular means of forgiveness, and issued His disciples to continue His mission on earth. Absolution affects and involves the body as much as the soul and spirit - the whole human person. After all, Christians believe (at one and the same time) in the cleansing work of the Holy Spirit within the spirit and the resurrection of the dead.
A. 'Isn't God the only one who can forgive sins?'
Yes. Christ is the only mediator for sins:
'[430] Jesus means in Hebrew: "God saves." At the annunciation, the angel Gabriel gave him the name Jesus as his proper name, which expresses both his identity and his mission. Since God alone can forgive sins, it is God who, in Jesus his eternal Son made man, "will save his people from their sins". In Jesus, God recapitulates all of his history of salvation on behalf of men.' [1]
'. . .[452] The name Jesus means "God saves". The child born of the Virgin Mary is called Jesus, "for he will save his people from their sins" (Mt 1:21): "there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved" (Acts 4:12).'[2]
That must be understood. Every Christian should believe this, regardless of background.
However, the Protestant (probably quite innocently, in most cases) seems to view the Catholic priest as someone who guards the water-hole - 'nope, sorry, there's not enough for you' or 'wait your turn, I'll get it for you' and so forth. There is, to the Protestant, a singular 'place' - intangible/'spiritual' as it may be - that is a 'pool' of God's grace toward which we mentally/'spiritually' position ourselves. In reality, while there is obviously quite a bit to be said for one's heart being proprely attuned to God (one can't truly repent and receive absolution if he/she isn't truly penitent even imperfectly), God has lavished His grace everywhere; if God is that 'water-hole' of grace, He (being Love) seems to have made an almost obscene amount of tributaries - but there are tangible, Sacramental tributaries as well as the tributaries we can see/access in our individual lives. In other words, the priest is not the 'guardian of the water-hole'; really, the foresight of God's grace is that the priest is a physical, tangible water-hole God has provided for us (and again, he is not the only tributary of God's grace, but he does administer the most important means of God's grace).
Yet the water-hole imagery falls short: drink too much water from the hole, and the water-hole is gone. God's grace isn't something to be 'rationed.' I prefer to use the imagery of a lit candle. God is the Candle blossoming through His Spirit His flame of grace, but the priest (as a smaller, set-apart candle) has been given the vocation - the life-purpose - of taking God's flame via the Sacraments into our very midst, of acting in persona Christi (in the person of Christ). God's flame/grace is not diminished or 'rationed' by its being passed to the bishops and priests; the flame of God is just as bright within God Himself as it was before He poured out His Holy Orders upon the priests and bishops. That is, rather, God's grace is not 'rationed' - it is made very specific and tangible via the priest.
The priest partakes in the Sacrament of Holy Orders, which sets Him apart to administer the Sacraments. We're all called to different missions in the Kingdom, and the priest is called to act as - well, on behalf of and in the person of, the Priest . . . the One who mediates between God and man. In the Sacraments (capital 'S' - Eucharist, Penance, etc.) and hopefully in the sacramentals (speaking homilies, mentoring, giving counsel, etc.), the priest embodies for us, the local congregation (literally and metaphorically), Christ toward His disciples. His 'role' as a priest is to be a vessel - a re-presentation - of the Priest, the Son of God toward the disciples and the Son of Man toward God. That is, whatever he may be (e.g. a cranky old man with bad manners), the priest has been given the task of being the person who operates in persona Christi (in the person of Christ).
B. 'So, do you have any scriptures to support this radical idea?'
'. . .So when it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and when the doors were shut where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in their midst and said to them, "Peace be with you." And when He had said this, He showed them both His hands and His side. The disciples then rejoiced when they saw the Lord. So Jesus said to them again, "Peace be with you; as the Father has sent Me, I also send you." And when He had said this, He breathed on them and said to them, "Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, their sins have been forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they have been retained."'
(John 20:19-23, NASB)
There's one instance. Consider also. . .
'And Jesus said to him, "Blessed are you, Simon Barjona, because flesh and blood did not reveal this to you, but My Father who is in heaven. I also say to you that you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build My church; and the gates of Hades will not overpower it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; and whatever you bind on earth shall have been bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall have been loosed in heaven."'
(Matthew 16:17-19, NASB)
'"Truly I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall have been bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall have been loosed in heaven."'
(Matthew 18:18, NASB)
Maybe, along with James, Luke, Acts, much of Paul, and Revelation, we should toss out John and portions of Matthew from the Protestant canon as well. Sadly enough, I've seen Protestant Biblical scholars do just that in a roundabout, passive-aggressive, unscholarly way - but this really isn't the place to waste space talking about such things.
C. What about 1 Timothy 2:5? What about the Book of Hebrews - that we have the 'great High Priest'? What about 1 Peter 2:5 and the 'priesthood of believers'?
Again, there isn't a least common denominator 'water-hole' at stake here. There is room for many different kinds of priests and subsistencies.
As stated earlier, Christ Jesus is THE High Priest of Christianity, the one and only; the local priest acts only through the grace God has given him to act in the person of Christ for the sake of the local community. The priest participates in re-presenting Christ's High Priestly love/action.
Also, we desperately need to remember the context of the 'one High Priest' image. The author of Hebrews is obviously trying to make a point to believers who are, in some form or fashion, comparing newborn Christianity to Judaism; it is implied that many in that position are tempted to turn back to Judaism (some have turned back), rejecting Christ as Lord and avoiding persecution. The author is attempting to show the New Covenant's superiourity to the 'merely' Old Covenant. We truly have a High Priest who understands us and our afflictions.
In the Petrine letter, it is similarly important to note context and cross-reference common sense. What is the definition of a priest? A priest is one who mediates between God and Man, representing God and God's communication to human beings as well as representing human beings and their communication to God. Israel was indeed a 'priestly' people, in that She did just that. She was God's light to the world, ultimately offering to the world the Messiah, and She was to God a 'chosen people.' Collectively, just as Israel, we the New Israel are priests to the world. And individually, in our everyday lives, we are priests in that we bear Christ and Christ's presence to those around us and take their needs/causes to our heavenly Father. This, however, doesn't mean we are all Roman Catholic priests.
D. 'This is a very weird idea. I have a hard time believing this.'
Admittedly, it is a weird concept. Then again, if we're honest, we can admit that Christianity itself is saturated with some fairly weird stuff, no matter whose shoes you're standing in - weirdest of all, that God took on flesh and became man. O Magnum Mysterium and so forth.
However, I think the Catholic rendering of Confession is weird to us Protestants simply because we haven't really thought it through and we're unfamiliar with it. It is probably shocking to Protestants (even some Lutherans) that Martin Luther himself taught and practised priestly confession[3], though he quite vehemently stood in opposition to mandatory confession, and he even wrote that such mode of confession is 'highly satisfactory, and useful or even necessary.'[4] Numerous early Fathers show solidarity with the Catholic notion of Confession as a Sacrament (imagine that); along these lines, take, for instance:
"It is necessary to confess our sins to those whom the dispensation of God's mysteries is entrusted."
(St. Basil, The Rule Briefly Treated, x288 [circa A.D. 374].)
"All mortal sins are to be submitted to the keys of the Church and all can be forgiven; but recourse to these keys is the only, the necessary, and the certain way to forgiveness. Unless those who are guilty of grievous sin have recourse to the power of the keys, they cannot hope for eternal salvation. Open your lips, then, and confess your sins to the priest. Confession alone is the true gate to Heaven."
(St. Augustine, Christian Combat [circa 397].)
Even without any transcendent or historical quality to any of this, the Sacrament of Penance just makes plain sense, even to the most coldly calculating, pragmatic of humanists. Accountability, a realisation of reality outside of one's mind and self, 'self-realisation', elements of 'therapy', a security of knowing, without any presumption, that you've been truly forgiven - all of these are the fruits of practising the Sacrament. It makes sense to hold oneself accountable to something/someone beyond oneself, but (in equal measure) not to blurt 'I'm a recovering porn addict!' across the loudspeakers of the community. This common-sensical return to sensibility is evidenced most poignantly in recent movements within Protestant groups, who are recognising the Scriptural mandates for confession 'one to another' and the psychological need for tangible, physically-affirmed forgiveness.[5] One of my graduate professors (a psychologist, no less) has noted in numerous class-sessions for ministers that 'often people have to hear God's forgiveness from your [the minister's] lips.' He doesn't believe in the priest acting literally in persona Christi (much as Martin Luther did not believe in such), and however much I disagree with many of the things he teaches, this teacher is a stone's throw from the truth.
. . .There are obviously many more questions that could be addressed (how Confession has changed throughout history and if that affects Confession, the meaning of public confession, etc.), but I'll leave those for other venues of communication, since these basic questions here (once answered) provide the solid groundwork to answer the other questions.
-Rick
References:
[1]Emphasis mine . . . Catechism of the Catholic Church: from 'The Profession of Faith,' Section II; Chapter 2, Article II, (1)'Jesus'
[2]Emphasis mine . . . Ibid., 'In Brief' summarising the Section
[3]http://www.faithlitchfield.com/resources/luther/archives/2003/10/penance_part_four.php
[4]http://purplepew.org/god-matters/faith-matters/sacrament-of-penance-by-martin-luther
'...The secret confession, however, which is now practised, though it cannot be proved from Scripture, is in my opinion highly satisfactory, and useful or even necessary. I could not wish it not to exist; nay, I rejoice that it does exist in the Church of Christ, for it is the one great remedy for afflicted consciences; when, after laying open our conscience to a brother, and unveiling all the evil which lay hid there, we receive from the mouth of that brother the word of consolation sent forth from God; receiving which by faith we find peace in a sense of the mercy of God, who speaks to us through our brother. What I protest against is the conversion of this institution of confession into a means of tyranny and extortion by the bishops.'
[5]http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2007/09/22/wconfess122.xml
Thus, we go to the priest to receive absolution, because absolution is not just a mental 'exercise' - some kind of private, isolated, spiritual 'digital-cable' connection to the spiritual God. Absolution is through God, but this God became flesh, established a regular means of forgiveness, and issued His disciples to continue His mission on earth. Absolution affects and involves the body as much as the soul and spirit - the whole human person. After all, Christians believe (at one and the same time) in the cleansing work of the Holy Spirit within the spirit and the resurrection of the dead.
A. 'Isn't God the only one who can forgive sins?'
Yes. Christ is the only mediator for sins:
'[430] Jesus means in Hebrew: "God saves." At the annunciation, the angel Gabriel gave him the name Jesus as his proper name, which expresses both his identity and his mission. Since God alone can forgive sins, it is God who, in Jesus his eternal Son made man, "will save his people from their sins". In Jesus, God recapitulates all of his history of salvation on behalf of men.' [1]
'. . .[452] The name Jesus means "God saves". The child born of the Virgin Mary is called Jesus, "for he will save his people from their sins" (Mt 1:21): "there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved" (Acts 4:12).'[2]
That must be understood. Every Christian should believe this, regardless of background.
However, the Protestant (probably quite innocently, in most cases) seems to view the Catholic priest as someone who guards the water-hole - 'nope, sorry, there's not enough for you' or 'wait your turn, I'll get it for you' and so forth. There is, to the Protestant, a singular 'place' - intangible/'spiritual' as it may be - that is a 'pool' of God's grace toward which we mentally/'spiritually' position ourselves. In reality, while there is obviously quite a bit to be said for one's heart being proprely attuned to God (one can't truly repent and receive absolution if he/she isn't truly penitent even imperfectly), God has lavished His grace everywhere; if God is that 'water-hole' of grace, He (being Love) seems to have made an almost obscene amount of tributaries - but there are tangible, Sacramental tributaries as well as the tributaries we can see/access in our individual lives. In other words, the priest is not the 'guardian of the water-hole'; really, the foresight of God's grace is that the priest is a physical, tangible water-hole God has provided for us (and again, he is not the only tributary of God's grace, but he does administer the most important means of God's grace).
Yet the water-hole imagery falls short: drink too much water from the hole, and the water-hole is gone. God's grace isn't something to be 'rationed.' I prefer to use the imagery of a lit candle. God is the Candle blossoming through His Spirit His flame of grace, but the priest (as a smaller, set-apart candle) has been given the vocation - the life-purpose - of taking God's flame via the Sacraments into our very midst, of acting in persona Christi (in the person of Christ). God's flame/grace is not diminished or 'rationed' by its being passed to the bishops and priests; the flame of God is just as bright within God Himself as it was before He poured out His Holy Orders upon the priests and bishops. That is, rather, God's grace is not 'rationed' - it is made very specific and tangible via the priest.
The priest partakes in the Sacrament of Holy Orders, which sets Him apart to administer the Sacraments. We're all called to different missions in the Kingdom, and the priest is called to act as - well, on behalf of and in the person of, the Priest . . . the One who mediates between God and man. In the Sacraments (capital 'S' - Eucharist, Penance, etc.) and hopefully in the sacramentals (speaking homilies, mentoring, giving counsel, etc.), the priest embodies for us, the local congregation (literally and metaphorically), Christ toward His disciples. His 'role' as a priest is to be a vessel - a re-presentation - of the Priest, the Son of God toward the disciples and the Son of Man toward God. That is, whatever he may be (e.g. a cranky old man with bad manners), the priest has been given the task of being the person who operates in persona Christi (in the person of Christ).
B. 'So, do you have any scriptures to support this radical idea?'
'. . .So when it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and when the doors were shut where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in their midst and said to them, "Peace be with you." And when He had said this, He showed them both His hands and His side. The disciples then rejoiced when they saw the Lord. So Jesus said to them again, "Peace be with you; as the Father has sent Me, I also send you." And when He had said this, He breathed on them and said to them, "Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, their sins have been forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they have been retained."'
(John 20:19-23, NASB)
There's one instance. Consider also. . .
'And Jesus said to him, "Blessed are you, Simon Barjona, because flesh and blood did not reveal this to you, but My Father who is in heaven. I also say to you that you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build My church; and the gates of Hades will not overpower it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; and whatever you bind on earth shall have been bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall have been loosed in heaven."'
(Matthew 16:17-19, NASB)
'"Truly I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall have been bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall have been loosed in heaven."'
(Matthew 18:18, NASB)
Maybe, along with James, Luke, Acts, much of Paul, and Revelation, we should toss out John and portions of Matthew from the Protestant canon as well. Sadly enough, I've seen Protestant Biblical scholars do just that in a roundabout, passive-aggressive, unscholarly way - but this really isn't the place to waste space talking about such things.
C. What about 1 Timothy 2:5? What about the Book of Hebrews - that we have the 'great High Priest'? What about 1 Peter 2:5 and the 'priesthood of believers'?
Again, there isn't a least common denominator 'water-hole' at stake here. There is room for many different kinds of priests and subsistencies.
As stated earlier, Christ Jesus is THE High Priest of Christianity, the one and only; the local priest acts only through the grace God has given him to act in the person of Christ for the sake of the local community. The priest participates in re-presenting Christ's High Priestly love/action.
Also, we desperately need to remember the context of the 'one High Priest' image. The author of Hebrews is obviously trying to make a point to believers who are, in some form or fashion, comparing newborn Christianity to Judaism; it is implied that many in that position are tempted to turn back to Judaism (some have turned back), rejecting Christ as Lord and avoiding persecution. The author is attempting to show the New Covenant's superiourity to the 'merely' Old Covenant. We truly have a High Priest who understands us and our afflictions.
In the Petrine letter, it is similarly important to note context and cross-reference common sense. What is the definition of a priest? A priest is one who mediates between God and Man, representing God and God's communication to human beings as well as representing human beings and their communication to God. Israel was indeed a 'priestly' people, in that She did just that. She was God's light to the world, ultimately offering to the world the Messiah, and She was to God a 'chosen people.' Collectively, just as Israel, we the New Israel are priests to the world. And individually, in our everyday lives, we are priests in that we bear Christ and Christ's presence to those around us and take their needs/causes to our heavenly Father. This, however, doesn't mean we are all Roman Catholic priests.
D. 'This is a very weird idea. I have a hard time believing this.'
Admittedly, it is a weird concept. Then again, if we're honest, we can admit that Christianity itself is saturated with some fairly weird stuff, no matter whose shoes you're standing in - weirdest of all, that God took on flesh and became man. O Magnum Mysterium and so forth.
However, I think the Catholic rendering of Confession is weird to us Protestants simply because we haven't really thought it through and we're unfamiliar with it. It is probably shocking to Protestants (even some Lutherans) that Martin Luther himself taught and practised priestly confession[3], though he quite vehemently stood in opposition to mandatory confession, and he even wrote that such mode of confession is 'highly satisfactory, and useful or even necessary.'[4] Numerous early Fathers show solidarity with the Catholic notion of Confession as a Sacrament (imagine that); along these lines, take, for instance:
"It is necessary to confess our sins to those whom the dispensation of God's mysteries is entrusted."
(St. Basil, The Rule Briefly Treated, x288 [circa A.D. 374].)
"All mortal sins are to be submitted to the keys of the Church and all can be forgiven; but recourse to these keys is the only, the necessary, and the certain way to forgiveness. Unless those who are guilty of grievous sin have recourse to the power of the keys, they cannot hope for eternal salvation. Open your lips, then, and confess your sins to the priest. Confession alone is the true gate to Heaven."
(St. Augustine, Christian Combat [circa 397].)
Even without any transcendent or historical quality to any of this, the Sacrament of Penance just makes plain sense, even to the most coldly calculating, pragmatic of humanists. Accountability, a realisation of reality outside of one's mind and self, 'self-realisation', elements of 'therapy', a security of knowing, without any presumption, that you've been truly forgiven - all of these are the fruits of practising the Sacrament. It makes sense to hold oneself accountable to something/someone beyond oneself, but (in equal measure) not to blurt 'I'm a recovering porn addict!' across the loudspeakers of the community. This common-sensical return to sensibility is evidenced most poignantly in recent movements within Protestant groups, who are recognising the Scriptural mandates for confession 'one to another' and the psychological need for tangible, physically-affirmed forgiveness.[5] One of my graduate professors (a psychologist, no less) has noted in numerous class-sessions for ministers that 'often people have to hear God's forgiveness from your [the minister's] lips.' He doesn't believe in the priest acting literally in persona Christi (much as Martin Luther did not believe in such), and however much I disagree with many of the things he teaches, this teacher is a stone's throw from the truth.
. . .There are obviously many more questions that could be addressed (how Confession has changed throughout history and if that affects Confession, the meaning of public confession, etc.), but I'll leave those for other venues of communication, since these basic questions here (once answered) provide the solid groundwork to answer the other questions.
-Rick
References:
[1]Emphasis mine . . . Catechism of the Catholic Church: from 'The Profession of Faith,' Section II; Chapter 2, Article II, (1)'Jesus'
[2]Emphasis mine . . . Ibid., 'In Brief' summarising the Section
[3]http://www.faithlitchfield.com/resources/luther/archives/2003/10/penance_part_four.php
[4]http://purplepew.org/god-matters/faith-matters/sacrament-of-penance-by-martin-luther
'...The secret confession, however, which is now practised, though it cannot be proved from Scripture, is in my opinion highly satisfactory, and useful or even necessary. I could not wish it not to exist; nay, I rejoice that it does exist in the Church of Christ, for it is the one great remedy for afflicted consciences; when, after laying open our conscience to a brother, and unveiling all the evil which lay hid there, we receive from the mouth of that brother the word of consolation sent forth from God; receiving which by faith we find peace in a sense of the mercy of God, who speaks to us through our brother. What I protest against is the conversion of this institution of confession into a means of tyranny and extortion by the bishops.'
[5]http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2007/09/22/wconfess122.xml
06 March 2008
Hunger Pangs (thanks, Chad and Jeff)
After forty decades of wandering Western brush-heaps,
The viper, the thief, the beating sun,
Dancing like the Dionysian cults who 'really felt the moving Spirit,'
And the blank adobe huts
Left bringing in the husks of sheaves
Left arms left shriveled in shivering sleeves
-Starvation visits.
The bread we left at Zion is wearing on our guts,
And we, wearing our pangs on our sleeves,
Grope for thorns or nails for sins to the crosses
To resurrect the Saviour, to birth Him in our hallowed halls,
To incarnate Ba'al.
So after this, our exile, show
Unto us the fruit of Thee, Womb.
For we have no bread in these huts
(There where there are no mothers, no tables, no cups)
And, gnawing, return to earth's womb.
O injured, O violated, O sweet
Mother Earth:
Pray for us, Mother of gods,
For we erect Thy May-pole in the Quad.
-Rick
The viper, the thief, the beating sun,
Dancing like the Dionysian cults who 'really felt the moving Spirit,'
And the blank adobe huts
Left bringing in the husks of sheaves
Left arms left shriveled in shivering sleeves
-Starvation visits.
The bread we left at Zion is wearing on our guts,
And we, wearing our pangs on our sleeves,
Grope for thorns or nails for sins to the crosses
To resurrect the Saviour, to birth Him in our hallowed halls,
To incarnate Ba'al.
So after this, our exile, show
Unto us the fruit of Thee, Womb.
For we have no bread in these huts
(There where there are no mothers, no tables, no cups)
And, gnawing, return to earth's womb.
O injured, O violated, O sweet
Mother Earth:
Pray for us, Mother of gods,
For we erect Thy May-pole in the Quad.
-Rick
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