A real church

After all my reflections on lay presidency, the Holy Father reiterates the Roman perspective that the CofE isn’t a real church in any case, because it doesn’t recognise him as head of the church in the sense that he wants to be recognised. Ah well.

As I think I’ve said before, I serve a community that worships in a place that has seen continuous worship in the name of Jesus for well over a thousand years. I’m enough of a bottom-up congregationalist to think that this is important, and that the corruptions of Popes and Kings don’t overcome that essential fact.

Until we are ALL united, none of us can claim to be THE church. I do see the Pope as the successor of Peter, and I do think that says something significant – I just think that Peter would have less concern for central control and precedent.

“It seems good to the Holy Spirit and to us….”

Not alone


Time takes a cigarette, puts it in your mouth
You pull on your finger, then another finger, then cigarette
The wall-to-wall is calling, it lingers, then you forget
Oh, no, no no, you’re a rock ‘n’ roll suicide

You’re too old to lose it,
too young to choose it,
And the clock waits so patiently on your song
You walk past a cafe but you don’t eat when you’ve lived too long
Oh, no, no, no, you’re a rock ‘n’ roll suicide

Chev brakes are snarling
as you stumble across the road
But the day breaks instead so you hurry home
Don’t let the sun blast your shadow
Don’t let the milk-float ride your mind
They’re so natural – religiously unkind

Oh no love! you’re not alone
You’re watching yourself but you’re too unfair
You got your head all tangled up but if I could only make you care
Oh no love! you’re not alone
No matter what or who you’ve been
No matter when or where you’ve seen
All the knives seem to lacerate your brain
I’ve had my share, I’ll help you with the pain
You’re not alone

Just turn on with me and you’re not alone
Let’s turn on and be not alone
Gimme your hands cause you’re wonderful
Gimme your hands cause you’re wonderful
Oh gimme your hands
cause you’re not alone

(David Bowie)

Authority and the Bible

Note: not the authority OF the Bible. Just pondering a couple of recent comments relating to how we interpret the text of Scripture – and, indeed, having digested Allert’s book, about what we are to count as Scripture or not. I’m probably a bit weird in that I came to faith after having studied the Bible in a thoroughly Modern and critical way, so the academic stuff is where I come from. However, what I find, over time, is that in most respects my attitude towards Scripture becomes more conservative – but that is because I am more and more persuaded of the authority of the church community which gives to Scripture that authority. Yet my understanding of Scripture is inevitably mediated through all sorts of perspectives. When I say that I’m a bit wary of Marcus Borg, for example, I’m really saying that I find his perspective still driven by some academic concerns. In contrast, if I said I found Tom Wright’s perspective congenial, I’m really saying something about him as much as about Scripture. I don’t think it’s possible to avoid this. Scripture isn’t a neutral term and whilst I am as susceptible as anyone to an argument of ‘Scripture says…’ I don’t think it’s ultimately viable.

So far as I’m aware Scripture never says of itself that it is transparent and easily understood, whereas there is quite a lot in it to say that it is NOT transparent, and that discerning God is not a simple process. We are easily misled, mistaking doctrines of men for the Word of God, especially in the last few hundred years. I don’t believe that Scripture is transparent in anything but the most trivial sense (ie we have an English translation, therefore we can read it), and I think the idea that it can be interpreted rightly by a solitary thinker is daft. We cannot escape the community of interpretation. So the questions of Scripture, wherever they come from, are really about which community you identify with. I will never know as much about the New Testament as Tom Wright – or Marcus Borg – but I don’t think it’s all that important. I am content to be part of a church which holds them in esteem. Ultimately I don’t think the faith is about Scripture; it’s about who Scripture testifies to. And as St Paul puts it ‘I think I too have the mind of Christ’

Perhaps: this community’s understanding of Scripture contains that which God is trying to teach me at this present time.

A bit more on "lay" presidency

I’ve continued to muse on this topic, because it raises such deep questions in me. So three more or less related points.

1. I have no doubt that, eg in the context of Roman persecution in the early church, or in the context of the oppressed Chinese churches of recent memory, there have been celebrations of communion without a canonically ordained priest present, where Christ was fully present in whatever way you want to understand that to be, and where the activity was as meaningful as it could be. In a related fashion, I don’t have any problems with a house group sharing communion amongst themselves, for example (though that depends a little on how it is understood). The issue, for me, is when that form is chosen exclusively over against a possible alternative, viz having an ordained person presiding, because of what then seems to be rejected: the reality of the wider Body. What I most struggle with, in the extremes of Christianity (ie at both evangelical and Roman Catholic ends of the Western spectrum), is the idea that ‘unless you’re exactly like us then you’re not a Christian’. To my mind embracing the authority of an ordained priest, ie ordained by the wider church, is precisely about saying ‘this is bigger than us’, ‘we are not the centre of gravity’ and so on. It’s about Christ not being the possession of the small group. I’m still digging into this perception of mine though; sometimes surprising things have happened once I uncover the roots of something like this. I am not yet fully clear on what I’m being led to understand about it.

2. A specific point: much of the advocacy for lay presidency talks about the Passover ritual, which didn’t require any form of ordained ministry to be carried out (though I believe it was still ‘presided over’ by the head of each household). This seems to only draw on part of the roots of communion, for an equally substantial origin for communion is the Temple liturgy (Jn 2.19-20), which had the most extreme elevation of ordained hierarchy possible. A large part of the language that we use in Christian theology – eg Son of God language – stems from the Temple liturgy, so it can’t just be brushed off.

3. I had a very specific vocation experience, that was centred on the notion of presiding at communion, ie that was literally the vision I was given. It was not at all a welcome vision and I fought against it. Yet I couldn’t deny that presiding at communion was precisely what I was called to do. When I attended my selection conference I was pressed on how I understood this by a Bishop, and he exhumed the fact that my understanding was still quite shallow. He directed me to read this document, wherein the Church of England set out a) it’s understanding of communion; b) the role of the president in communion (indissolubly linked to overall responsibility for a community); and c) its rejection of lay presidency. It was b) that I hadn’t fully absorbed – and which I’m still wrestling with – but c) can’t be separated from a) and b). So this question raises the profoundest possible question about who I am called to be by God. Put differently, if lay presidency is accepted then I no longer know who I am called to be – I don’t know what the point of my life is. One of the key challenges made to me when I first began exploring ordination was ‘what can you do as a priest which you can’t do as a committed Christian?’, to which the answer is ‘preside at communion’ – but not simply as that act, but all which that act represents in terms of b) above, ie to bear responsibility for shepherding and feeding a flock. It is that which is my vocation, and presiding at communion is the necessary sign of that vocation. To separate out that general authority from the action which expresses its meaning is to unmake the vocation itself; all that seemed solid melts into the air. I’m afraid I can’t get away from seeing that rejection as either a rejection of sacramental theology as such (because if the sacraments have no incarnational reality then the role of the president is deferrable and delegatable) or simply – as I said before – an issue about rejecting authority, which, leaving aside my cheap cracks about adolescence, is profoundly unScriptural. Either way, I must confess that my vocational experience is an unarguable reality in my life – subject to further direct revelation of course! – and it is deeper in me than my attachment to the Church of England. If the Church of England changes it’s mind and accepts lay presidency then I would undoubtedly leave this Church. I doubt I’d be on my own in that.

Ho hum. I’m sure I’ll continue to gnaw on this bone.

TBTM20070709


In the circles I tend to move in, being called a ‘liberal’ is a bit of an insult – it means that you don’t take the faith seriously etc etc. Now I don’t think that’s true, but I was just wondering – in certain circles, is being called an ‘open evangelical’ now taking on the same sense? That is, are ‘open evangelicals’ the new ‘liberals’? I’m musing on this since finding this site last night, especially looking at this page.

BTW I’ve read one John MacArthur book – Ashamed of the Gospel – and I thought it was rather good. I suspect I’ve got quite a bit of affinity with (some bits of) the conservative evangelicalism that site represents, though some of it I see as barbaric and a long way from the Way.

Velvet Elvis (Rob Bell)


This was a very enjoyable overview of that sane, sensible, life-transforming and liberating faith that I recognise as Christianity. Lots of good bits in it – including an enlightening discussion of first century rabbinical practice that I’m going to borrow for my sermon tomorrow – thought I suspect that if push came to shove he’d be a bit too much of a fan of Marcus Borg for my taste. Excellent all the same. For obvious reasons this bit spoke to me:

“Your job is the relentless pursuit of who God has made you to be. And anything else you do is sin and you need to repent of it.” (He’s quoting someone else there)

He goes on:

“Superpastor is always available to everyone and accomplishes great things but always has time to stop and talk and never misses anyone’s birthday and if you are sick he’s at the hospital and you can call him at home whenever you need advice and he loves meetings and spends hours studying and praying and yet you can interrupt him if you need something – did I mention he always puts his family first?
…I had this false sense of guilt and subsequent shame because I believed deep down that I wasn’t working hard enough. And I believed the not-working-hard-enough lie because I didn’t function like superpastor, who isn’t real anyway.
So I had one choice – I had to kill superpastor.
I had to take him out back and end his pathetic existence.”

I also liked: Christian is a good noun but a lousy adjective. That whole discussion made a lot of sense. And ‘Brickianity’ – marvellous image. I’ll have to investigate these NOOMA things.

Strongly recommended, especially to people on the fringes – or even outside the fringes. Christianity is not about curating a museum but creating heaven on earth here and now. Yeah!