Considering The Episcopal Church From 1945 to the Present Day.

Two of the three readings to which I am responding here had their focus on the major issues faced by liberal Protestantism in the second half of the Twentieth Century (one detailing responses in The Episcopal Church), while the third addressed the changes to the 1979 Book of Common Prayer. While the alterations made to the Prayer Book do reflect, in a larger sense, issues with which the Church was struggling and the impact this had on its liturgy, in this note I intend to interact primarily with and examine the significance of the article by N. J. Demerath (“Cultural Victory and Organizational Defeat in the Paradoxical Decline of Liberal Protestantism”) and David Sumner’s book, The Episcopal Church’s History 1945–1985 (Chapter 6: “The Church in Society: More Tough Issues”).

Demerath argues that every branch of mainline liberal Protestantism in North America, despite the fact that they were the “founding faiths” of American civil religion, have experienced decline (ironically) because of the brand of liberal individualism which they have tended to promote. His central thesis consists of the idea that, “liberal Protestants have lost structurally at the micro level precisely because they have won culturally at the macro level” (p. 463). In his analysis of the emancipating influence of mainline Protestant liberalism on modern society, and its subsequent—and perhaps unexpected—consequences for church membership and structure, I think that Demerath’s notion is almost certainly correct.

Demerath’s concerns himself centrally with the ways in which the needs of society affected and even changed the message and priorities of the church. He claims to recognize the theological insufficiency of directly identifying Protestant liberalism with such American values as individualism, freedom, democracy, and intellectual inquiry (p. 462), but I found that his argument would have been strengthened had he taken some space to explore why this shift took place in the first place. For example, the notion of “freedom” found in the Pauline corpus differs dramatically from the way in which most modern Americans understand and practice this idea. What happened historically that allowed for mainline Protestantism and the culture to achieve a confluence of views on this idea, among others? Demerath strongest statement in this regard is that, “Clearly some linkage is required between these two discourses,” and moves on. His (classically liberal) assumption appears to be that that God is immanent in human culture, and works, as he finally states, “in the interactions” (p. 468). Assuming the reactionary nature of liberal Protestant theology to the “popular piety” of the 1950’s, what deeper structure within mainline Protestantism’s self-understanding and theology itself allowed for re-definitions of some of its central Christological claims?

Demerath seems to be asking: Has a church that has been so transformed by its service to society (less gracious observers might argue “hijacked by society”) that it no longer articulates values superior to that society outlived its usefulness? He states that he does not prescribe re-introducing conservative theology as a means of establishing “strict” membership requirements—something around which people could once again coalesce rather than a commitment to pursuits of individual liberty. Rather, he considers that functioning as a “remnant” group may actually lead to the rediscovery of the best of Protestant liberalism in the future. I have concluded this myself, but feel that it is not for the church to wait for society to recognize it as “useful” again. Rather, in my view, the Church must articulate and live into its identity and mission in fresh and newly Christocentric ways (which guarantees that it always has something meaningful to say to society).

Sumner’s Chapters, rather than overviewing liberal Protestantism in general, deal with the specific responses of The Episcopal Church to various societal “hot button” issues: the Vietnam War, homosexuality, the ordination of women, abortion, corporate ethics, and the peace movement. He tracks the response of the General Convention to each of these issues from the time directly following World War II to the mid 1980’s. The overall picture he presents is of a church uncertain where the force that maintains its unity actually resides, while at the same time remains committed to honest dialogue (even when the content of that dialogue can sometimes cause embarrassment in hindsight).

Sumner’s synopsis of The Episcopal Church’s practice of exploring its theological tensions publically underscores its willingness to endure honest (if not painful) communication as the price for discovering the truth of a matter. While it would be unfair to assert that The Episcopal Church has allowed society’s issues at large to dominate its theological agenda entirely, it cannot be denied that this Church has moved more quickly than most other mainline Protestant denominations in setting a progressive agenda for ecclesiastical community and society. Sumner offers snippets of past conversations about each issue, skillfully re-creating some of the dialogue from General Conventions in order to reveal the tone of the debate. His view that, “In one sense, the church never solved the ‘issues.’ … the ‘issues’ will exist as long as the church’s doors are open,” (p. 73) seems more accurate than to simply assume that the Church has somehow relegated its responsibility to stay centered theologically to the whims of society in general.

That this is true is revealed in the decades long discussion concerning proposed changes to the 1928 Book of Common Prayer. While Demerath might say that The Episcopal Church has, “coalesced around a shared commitment to a distinctive liturgy or ritual language” (p. 467), there seems little evidence in the 1979 Prayer Book that the Church views itself as a people indulging in its own propensity for recherché forms of worship. Rather, the expansions of language and ritual seem driven by both a need to meet people where they are at in contemporary society and careful theological reflection. While The Episcopal Church may have much hard work ahead in articulating itself meaningfully to postmodern society, its commitment to authenticity and theological depth in liturgy will hopefully guide it in that process.

This review examines an introductory text on postmodernism, and concludes with a few questions for the church regarding liturgy.

Glenn Ward’s synopsis of postmodernism begins with an examination of the pre-history of this phenomenon, where he identifies those aspects of modernism against which postmodernism has come to define itself: progress, rationality, foundationalism and essentialism, and the sense of a unified self. Because it is notoriously difficult to define postmodernism, Ward begins with concrete examples of the postmodern aesthetic as expressed in architecture, art, and literature. In each case he notes the penchant for “impure plural coding” (p. 48), where boundaries of “either/or” are rejected and replaced by “both/and” (p. 53). Furthermore, he notes that modernist notions of “High Order” culture which exclude and denigrate “Low Order” culture are viewed as elitist by postmodern thinkers. Rather, all cultural expressions—whether High or Low—are fair game for creating a “collage” of imagery which one imbues with meaning. As such, in postmodernism, “depth is replaced by surface” (p. 68), and the very superficiality of what is presented creates an effect, which, in itself, is everything. Ward is right, in my opinion, to start with  such “concrete” examples as architecture, art, and literature; in so doing he emphasizing the fact that “postmodernism is everywhere” (p. 1), permeating society on all levels, and in settings ranging from the academy to popular culture.

In terms of language and meaning, Ward presents the postmodern mind as something akin to Teflon—everything slides around with no real permanent “sticking” quality: the quest for “truth” language has been abandoned (p. 90), and meaning is never final (p. 99). Rather, culture exists within a system of “signs” that make sense within their own cultural framework, but, in the end, do not represent any essential or “foundational” truth (p. 116). It is this anti-essentialism which generates the view that no “deep down” identity of the self exists; rather, we are a “play of surfaces,” and a “set of shifting signs” (p. 138). In my own experience of many members of Gen. X and Millennials, I find this assessment accurate. The notion of choosing one’s identity (essentially “branding” oneself in various ways), fosters interaction in these age groups, where encounters occur often based on an outward set of cues (usually established by fashion, cosmetics, the way a person talks, etc.) which set a tone. The “real” or “authentic” person may or may not be apparent in the interaction, but the guise functions in a similar way to what used to be achieved by rules of etiquette in a previous era: it establishes socially pre-determined parameters for interacting. For example: this kind of “branding” is at work when a white teenager shows up to a church youth event dressed in black gangster clothing, when one meets another person’s punk-looking drow elf avatar in World of Warcraft (people reveal much by way of their identity choices in video games, especially MMORPGs where social interaction is integral to the experience), or even in the intended effect people wish to make by the kinds of posts they make on Facebook. In reaction to the regimented roles modernism prescribed for people, postmodernism tends to “activate the differences between people and between the cultural spaces they inhabit” (p. 169) to encourage creativity, and perhaps, in some cases, conflict. Overall, exploring how we live with difference does, indeed, seem to be of fundamental concern within postmodernism.

Suggested Considerations for the Church:

Postmodern worship tends to focus on surface features. There is often a premium placed upon creating the “right” atmospheric effects: mood lighting, background music, etc. – to such a degree that, in my experience, I have wondered at times whether people are reacting to the setting or to the living Christ. Is it theologically or pastorally adequate if people are only responding to the aesthetics of a service? How do we avoid “manipulating emotions” when making choices for liturgy? What kind of emphases do we need to make to create a God-focused experience, while at the same time providing an effective atmosphere to which people will respond?

I have heard many times that the main difference between what constitutes “High Church” versus “Low Church” simply relates to the style of worship being used, or the level of tolerance for symbolism in the liturgy. While these features may constitute the most observable contrast between the two, I’ve encountered a more substantial theological definition that, for me, goes more to the heart of explaining their essential differences.

High Church theology makes the emphasis that WE are being saved. The focus is not so much on the individual as the entire Communion or Body.  This is why sacramental theology is so important in higher churches – we cannot baptize ourselves, we cannot administer God’s grace to ourselves alone without the input of our brothers and sisters. This is why High Church traditions tend to baptize babies: God works through a community to bring grace into a person’s life whether they know it or not. The response – whether emotional or intellectual – is important, but not the means of receiving the grace. So High Church theology is fundamentally not about ceremony – it is about having a means by which WE receive grace.  As such, baptism, the Eucharist, and other sacramental ministries of the Church, are not demonstrations that we have already received grace within and are merely letting others know about it. In a High Church tradition one cannot get the grace apart from the sacrament, given to us by the community. God adopts us and brings us into the body – thus, this is a high valuation of the church.

On the other hand, Low Church theology tends to not view the universe in this kind of sacramental light. The individual, not the corporate Body, is the locus of God’s saving work. “I have been changed, personally encountered God, and therefore I and coming to you to show you what has already happened inside of me.” In this view, grace is already there, and the Church is secondary to some extent to that personal religious experience. The Church, in fact, is made up of individuals who each claim to have had this experience – and entry into a local community is often dependent upon having an individualized experience of God that leads to a person deciding to confess, be baptized, etc. The role of the community, in this instance, represents a low theological understanding of the Church because the Body of Christ is not initiating the means of grace. It may provide a space for that to happen, and a person may have their religious experience within the context of the worship of a community, but the Church is not completely essential to that process or imparting that grace from the outset.

By pointing up these theological differences, I am not suggesting that one theological perspective is the “right” one and the other is “wrong.” I am certain that I see both at work in the New Testament. By suggesting that High and Low Church identity refers to more than the outward ceremonies being enacted, I am more concerned about confronting our image of the church, as well as issues such as individualism, and where authority is located in Christian community. What do you think?

We are served lunch every day — it is catered — and I must say that the food is exceptional. For dinner, some nights the other guys in the dorm and I will pitch in and fix a meal, other nights I’m on my own. I’m finding that Trader Joe’s is the most inexpensive grocery nearby, with prices only slightly above those in Indiana. I am also finding the small, out of the way, inexpensive spots to eat. There are so many choices here in the city that it can be overwhelming! There are blocks I walk down where no one is speaking English. I love it!

I’ve attended two churches in the city the past two weeks. The first church had music to die for, but we weren’t greeted once after standing for twenty minutes in the coffee hour and trying to reach out to people ourselves. Not going back there, despite the elite status of this church in this Diocese. Last week I attended St. Bart’s, and found the place to be warm, ministry oriented, and serious about welcoming people. I’m not sure it’s where I’ll eventually land, but it was a great Sunday!

I miss Christian, I miss home, and I miss my Cathedral family especially!! I just found out from the president of the Standing Committee in the Diocese of Indianapolis that they wish to interview me for Candidacy to Ordination for the Priesthood on October 12th there in Indianapolis, so I shall be returning home for a trip sooner than expected!!! I am very excited, and ask for your prayers for this interview. I am looking forward to all that God is doing right now and will continue to do in this important year of formation and new growth. I am so grateful to those of you who have helped make this possible. I love you in the Lord!

Yours in Christ,

- John

Christian Liturgy: History, Theology & Contemporary Issues

Introduction to Episcopal Church Music

Liturgy, Postmodernism, and the Emerging Church

The History of the Episcopal Church in the USA

Polity & Canon Law of the Episcopal Church

Anglicanism: Its Identity and Integrity

I’m entirely excited about working with Patrick Malloy, a cutting edge liturgist in TEC, and one of General’s most significant assets. The Anglicanism course is being taught by Archbishop Peter Canrley from Australia, who has done much work in the theology of resurrection, but is also very involved in many of the contemporary issues facing the Anglican Communion. Amazon book order: $500.18!! Worth every penny!

I’ve had something of a break through in my understanding of the Church at prayer (despite it being day three of orientation here at Seminary!), especially in terms how a common liturgy functions within a community.

It seems to me that the prayers of the Church are a participation in the prayers of Christ to the Father. The church, as the Body of Christ, exists to possess and manifest the life of Christ. We give Christ a Body on earth together — and part of what we do as his Body is continue his prayers to the Father (in the daily offices, weekly worship, etc). This is not to say that Christ is not at work elsewhere, or that Christ does not continue his own eternal prayer to the Father without the Church. It is to say that the Church is the visible embodiment of Christ in this world, and no more so than when it’s Bishops, priests, deacons, and parishioners are all gathered for prayer to the Father.

Thus, liturgical prayer is not a form of self-expression (there are other times and places where this kind of prayer is appropriate). We give ourselves to the Lord Jesus Christ together so that we can continue his prayer in the world. Common prayer requires emptying ourselves for Christ’s sake, just as he emptied himself for the sake of the Father. There is an element of surrender in saying the daily offices together, in saying the same words together, as prescribed by the prayer book. Common prayer requires us to say one thing together, similar to the way an orchestra functions. An orchestra cannot function properly if every instrumentalist shows up and plays their best, whatever that music might be, and everyone simply hopes it all somehow comes together. Rather, by submitting to doing the same piece of music, an orchestra can produce a single, powerful expression of music together.

I’m excited, because for me I believe that this theological understanding of our prayer life together is going to take me miles forward . . .

James Fowler is a leading theoretician on the stages of faith, and he offers a structure for studying its development. I was first introduced to Fowler’s work in Seminary, where criticism of it was made due to its American orientation, as well as its focus on the cognitive dimensions of faith (both valid criticisms, in my opinion). The structure he offers can be helpful in thinking through our faith journey, however, and I replicate it here — I have recently re-encountered his work.

Primal Faith (pre-language): This kind of faith is found in children before they are able to speak – it is a feeling of trust.

Intuitive-Projective Faith (early Childhood): This kind of faith is fantasy-filled, it imitates adults, is egocentric, there are strong taboos, it uses powerful images, and it contains a fusion of fact, fantasy, and feelings.

Mythic-Literal Faith (School years and beyond, some adolescents, and even some adults): This stage of faith views the foundational mythic stories of the Bible as apparently historical events that serve to explain the world, people, practice, belief, and natural phenomenon. “Literal” means that at this stage the individual understands the myth in a literal, concrete sense.  At this stage, stories of the community are given unity and value. Beliefs are literal, symbols are one-dimensional, there exist strict rules of right and wrong, fairness and reciprocity, God is anthropomorphic, and persons are required to conform to authority and tradition.

Synthetic-Conventional Faith (Adolescence and beyond): This stage of faith is non-analytical, and sustains no critical reflection. Convention is seen as normative, persons are dependent, conformist, and not very self-aware. Authority figures shape faith, belief, and practice. This is the level of faith in operation in most youth group settings, but some churches maintain this level of faith (suspicious of those critically thinking it through or raising questions).

Individuative-Reflective Faith (Young Adult and beyond): At this stage of faith, the person has an internal source of authority, works at demythologizing faith (divesting it of its mythological forms in order to uncover the underlying meaning in the stories), seeks self-fulfillment, takes responsibility, and is self-actualized. A person at this stage of faith is a substantial presence in a congregation. They view the church community as existing to serve individuals. They often have either over or under-inflated images of themselves, and need the community and spiritual direction.

Conjunctive Faith (Mid-life and beyond – 7% of the population achieves this stage of faith): A person at this stage of faith sees both sides of issues and the truth found in each, achieves a detachment from issues, pursues dialectical knowing; truth is seen as multi-dimensional, they strive to reclaim and rework the past, and unify opposites. Persons at this stage of faith often  achieve a second naivete, and can be described as post-critical. The hallmarks of this stage of faith are: 1. awareness of the need to face and hold together several unmistakable polar tensions in one’s life; 2. A felt sense that truth is more complex than most of the crystal clear, either-or categories that worked when the person was younger: truth is rich, and must be approached from various angles in a quest for its ultimate expression; 3. The person moves beyond the critical translation of the mythic and the symbolic. In the second naivete, a receptivity and readiness to participate in the reality that is expressed by myth and symbol; 4. A genuine openness to the truths of traditions and communities other than one’s own, a disciplined openness to truths of those who are different and other, based on a deep commitment to one’s own tradition, coupled with the realization that ultimate truth is bigger than any one tradition can surround.

Universalizing Faith (Rare: 0.3% of the general populations achieves this stage): The person is heedless of self preservation, and senses a oneness with God. Their focus is on truth, justice, goodness. Life is both loved and loosely held onto, and the person transcends the temporal in their thinking. The person is ready to die for others if need be, and maintains a relevant irrelevance. They are ready to spend and be spent in making the Kingdom of God actual. So few of these types of individuals exist that we usually know them by name (Mother Theresa, for some Martin Luther King, Gandhi, Jesus, etc.).

I could say several things about this, but will reserve it for the comments section if people find this interesting.