Thursday, 23 May 2013

"To break the devil's chains": deliverance and the Church's proclamation


The 'he did-he didn't' accounts of the exorcism-or-not performed by Pope Francis on Pentecost Sunday has attracted considerable attention to a ministry often regarded with considerable suspicion both inside and outside the Church.  Two example of this suspicion within the Church have been highlighted by Anglican Down Under.  The exorcist in the Anglican Diocese of Christchurch in NZ has been quoted as saying "I don't believe in all that sort of thing - it's a load of rubbish".  The news report goes on to comment, "for him, it was not about battling Satan".  As for the Roman diocese, despite the requirements of the Code of Canon Law, "Wellington, however, does not have an appointed exorcist, and Catholic Archbishop of Wellington John Dew said that, as far as he knew, it had never needed one".

Peter Stanford in the Daily Telegraph, however, reminds us that this suspicion and embarrassment sits very uneasily beside practices essential to the Church's life:

The basic gesture of rejecting the Devil – the point of exorcism – is there in an array of everyday practices common to many branches of Christianity, from the words used in baptism (“do you renounce Satan and all his ways and all his empty promises?”), through to the simplest gesture of making the sign of the cross, traditionally the best protection against the Devil. Remove them all and there wouldn’t be much left.

Add to this the reading of the Gospels (and the exorcisms performed by Jesus) and the Lord's Prayer (noting that the petition 'deliver us from evil' is often translated in the Gospel texts as 'deliver us from the Evil One'), and we see that this grammar is embedded in the Church's narratives and basic practices.  To deny it is to remove grammar which contributes to the Church's understanding of evil, brokeness, failure, temptation and suffering.  As the CofE's Guidelines for Good Practice in the Deliverance Ministry state:

Jesus, in his life, suffering and death, and in his resurrection and ascension defeated evil and brought the hope of salvation to everyone. So we can be confident that when we pray the Lord’s Prayer for deliverance from evil, God hears us, and that praying with people for their needs and protection is often an appropriate way of ministering to them.

Some people, however, seek specific help when going through times of suffering and anxiety, or when distressed by what seem to be continuing experiences of evil within them or around them. For these people, it may be right to ask for God’s saving help through the Church’s deliverance ministry.

Here we see the ministry of deliverance - rare as its exercise might be required, and always in the context of oversight by those appointed to this ministry by the diocesan - flows from the heart of the Church's proclamation.  The Church neither proclaims a Manichean eternal struggle between good and evil, light and darkness nor denies the reality of an Evil One.  Rather, in the words of the eucharistic prayer of Hippolytus:

When he was about to surrender himself to voluntary suffering
in order to destroy death,
to break the devil's chains,
to tread hell underfoot,
to pour out his light upon the just,
to establish the covenant, and manifest resurrection,
he took bread, gave you thanks ...

Wednesday, 22 May 2013

Generosity, humility, liminality: charisms and models of priesthood


Preaching at a Celebration of the 50th anniversary of the first ordinations of those in self-supporting ministry in the CofE, +Sheffield reflected on how self-supporting priests model a vision of priesthood that renews both the wider ministerial priesthood and the Church:

These different forms of self-supporting ministry are characterized first of all, it seems to me, by generosity. They are by definition a gift. A gift of time given to vocational exploration and to training which is costly to the candidate and to their family. A gift of time and of self given to ministry without financial reward or gain. A gift of service sustained in similar ways over many years. Self supporting ministry and stability seem to go together. A gift of love for the Lord and for his church. As John Chrysostom says, Jesus calls Peter to demonstrate his love for the Lord by care for his flock. This new pattern of priesthood is characterized first by generosity.

Second, this new pattern of priesthood is characterized, it seems to me, by humility. Humility is present as we have seen in Peter’s answer. It is enough to say: “Yes Lord you know I love you”. There is no need to compete with the love offered by others. It is enough to offer what we can. Self supporting ministries offer servant leadership in a particular way. Those who serve in this way have to offer what they can, constrained by time and circumstances, and offer what is needed. They are not caught up in temptations to ambition or influence which afflict those called to stipendiary ministry. This is a liberating gift to the priests themselves and to the wider church though it has its cost. It is a pattern of priesthood shaped by humility.
 
Third, I suggest, this new form of priesthood is shaped by liminality: by living permanently on the edge and between two or more worlds. This can be a blessing. It can also be complex and demanding as many here will know. But it is a precious gift to the wider church and has many lessons for a church in mission.
 
This is a fascinating reflection on the particular charism of self-supporting priesthood, when the temptation is usually to deny the particular charism in order to affirm that such priests fully share in the ministerial priesthood.  It also connects with TLC's recent report on the success of the Iona School for Ministry in the Diocese of Texas, which provides formation for bi-vocational deacons and priests.  As TLC notes, there is a sense in which this approach addresses the particular missional context faced by bi-vocational priests and deacons in Texas: "training is focused on small churches’ needs and prepares students specifically for situations they are apt to encounter in those settings".
 
Needless to say, changing models of formation and priesthood are required for the post-Christendom churches across North Atlantic societies.  +Sheffield's emphasis on the particular charism of self-supporting priests, the gift that this model of priesthood brings to the Church, should lead us to reimagine the charisms brought by various expressions of ministry throughout the Church and how these diverse gifts must be fostered and nurtured in order to enrich the witness and mission of the churches in the secular age.

Tuesday, 21 May 2013

Witnesses to the word of pardon: the Atlas martyrs


From the ecumenical martyrology of Bose:

 
The seven Trappist monks of Atlas

(d. 1996)

martyrs

On May 21, 1996 the Armed Islamic Group, an Algerian extremist organization, released a statement announcing the execution of the seven Trappist monks who had been kidnapped two months earlier from the monastery of Notre-Dame de l'Atlas. Their death was the conclusion of an itinerary of witness to the Gospel so radical that it had revealed the presence of the Emmanuel, God with us, in the midst of growing hatred and hostility. The story of the monks of Atlas had begun in 1938, when several of them had settled in the region of Tibhirine to give witness to the universal fellowship sought by Christians, in silence, prayer and discreet friendship with their Muslim neighbors.
In the 1960s the community found itself on the verge of closure, but the direct intervention of several French monasteries, together with the guidance of a new prior, Brother Christian de Chergé, led to a dramatic spiritual renewal. Brother Christian left the monks who would follow him with writings steeped in the Gospel, in which readers glimpse the makrothymia, or universal compassion, of a man whose resemblance to his Master was such that he had come to see others, and even the enemy, through God's eyes.
At his side, brothers Bruno, Célestin, Christophe, Luc, Michel and Paul shared every joy and grief, every distress and hope until the day of their death. Together they gave their life without reserve to God and to their Algerian brothers and sisters.
Despite the threats they received, they decided together to remain in Algeria, where they had long been engaging in dialogue and spiritual exchange with the Muslims of their region.
These monks' violent death, which reminded Western Christians of the possibility of martyrdom that exists in every truly Christian life, has communicated to every person capable of listening the conviction that only those who have a reason for which they are willing to die also have a reason to live.



And from a fellow Trappist, a meditation on the relationship between martyrdom of the monks of Tibhirine and the hope of forgiveness:

The martyr who offers his life while forgiving, accuses no one. A group of extremists does not represent a people: nothing would be more absurd than to accuse the Algerian people or the Muslim world for what happened. Neither must we accuse the physical authors of the drama. We must be confident that a word of pardon will dissipate all evil and ignorance, letting light shine within ourselves and finding spaces of liberty for the transformation of our existence. All human beings are worthy of being loved.

(The picture above is of the Tibhirine memorial in the Cistercian monastery of Aiguebelle in northern Provence because Brother Christian, prior of Tibhirine and martyr, began his monastic life there.)

Monday, 20 May 2013

Saturday, 18 May 2013

Passover and Pentecost: Andrewes on eucharist and the gift of the Spirit


In his Whitsunday sermon of 1610, Lancelot Andrewes reflected on how we partake of both Christ and the Spirit in the Eucharist.  In the mystery of the Eucharist "we find 'Christ our Passover offered for us,' and the Spirit our Pentecost ... offered to us":

Besides, it was one special end why the Sacrament itself was ordained, our comfort; the Church so telleth us, we so hear it read every time to us: 'He hath ordained these mysteries of His love and favour, to our great and endless comfort.' 'The Father will give you the Comforter.' Why He gives Him, we see; how He gives Him, we see not. The means for which He gives Him, is Christ--His entreaty by His word in prayer; by His flesh and blood in sacrifice, for His blood speaks, not His voice only. These means for which; and the very same, the means by which He gives the Comforter: by Christ the Word, and by Christ's body and blood, both. In tongues it came, but the tongue is not the instrument of speech only but of taste, we all know. And even that note hath not escaped the ancient Divines; to shew there is not only comfort by hearing the word, but we may also 'taste of His goodness, how gracious He is,' and be 'made drink of the Spirit.' That not only by the letter we read, and the word we hear, but by the flesh we eat, and the blood we drink at His table, we be made partakers of His Spirit, and of the comfort of it. By no more kindly way passes His Spirit, than by His flesh and blood, which are vehicula Spiritus, 'the proper carriages to convey it.' Christ fitted our body to Him, that He might fit His Spirit to us. For so is the Spirit best fitted, made remeable, and best exhibited to us who consist of both.

This is sure: where His flesh and blood are, they are not 'spiritless,' they are not or without life, His Spirit is with them. Therefore was it ordained in those very elements, which have both of them a comfortable operation in the heart of man. One of them, bread, serving to strengthen it, or make it strong; and comfort comes of comfortare, which is 'to make strong'' And the other wine, to make it cheerful or 'glad;' and is therefore willed to be ministered to them who mourn, and are oppressed with grief. And all this to show that the same effect is wrought in the inward man by the holy mysteries, that is in the outward by the elements; that there the heart is 'established by grace,' and our soul endued with strength, and our conscience made light and cheerful, that it faint not, but evermore rejoice in His holy comfort.

To conclude: where shall we find it if not here, where under one we find 'Christ our Passover offered for us,' and the Spirit our Pentecost thus offered to us? Nothing remains but the Father Himself, and of Him we are sure too. Filium in pretium dedit, Spiritum in solatium, Se servat in præmium; His Son He gave to be our price, His Spirit to be our comfort, Himself he keeps to be our everlasting reward. Of which reward there, and comfort here, this day and ever may we be partakers, for Him Who was the price of both, Jesus Christ!

Friday, 17 May 2013

"Being united with beauty": McGrath on the imaginative apologetics of CS Lewis


Alister McGrath's recent C.S. Lewis: A Life is quickly establishing him as the significant contemporary interpreter of Lewis.  In an ABC: Religion and Ethics article, McGrath explores the relationship between the appeals to reason and imagination in Lewis' works:

Lewis's explicit appeal to reason thus involves an implicit appeal to the imagination. Perhaps this helps us understand why Lewis appeals to both modern and postmodern people. Lewis gives us a synoptikon which bridges the great divide between modernity and postmodernity, insisting that each outlook has its strengths because it is part of a greater whole. Their weaknesses arise when they pretend to offer the full picture, when they really offer only part of the whole. Once the "big picture" is seen, they are both seen in their proper light.

Lewis enriches our vision of apologetics, allowing us to affirm that Christianity makes sense, without limiting it to the "glib and shallow" rationalism that he himself once knew as an atheist. Reason and imagination are woven together, using a rich concept of truth which emphasizes how we come to see things properly, and grasp their inner coherence. Truth, beauty and goodness all have their part to play in Lewis's apologetics.

Such an "imaginative apologetics" allows us to affirm the reasonableness of faith, while at the same time displaying its power to captivate the imagination. The Christian churches need to ensure that their preaching, witness and worship express this same rich vision of reality, and lead others to wonder how they can go "further up and further in" to the landscape of faith.

This understanding of a reasonableness which serves the call to captivate the imagination is also highlighted in The Tablet's review of McGrath's C.S. Lewis:

[McGrath] points out that under its clothing of reasoned argument, Lewis’ theology is always founded on a profoundly aesthetic effort: to draw us a picture of the Christian universe and our place in it that moves, attracts and persuades us, so that we say: yes, this is what life is really like, and how much more real it is than we ever imagined.

McGrath's reinterpretation of Lewis as an apologist of the imagination rather than the rationalism so often associated with, for example, Mere Christianity, offers a glimpse of how the Church's evangelisation and catechetics need to be "a profoundly aesthetic effort". In The Weight of Glory, Lewis wonderfully and powerfully pointed to why this is so:

We do not want merely to see beauty... we want something else which can hardly be put into words- to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it.

Thursday, 16 May 2013

"The Lord himself is signified": Augustine's Christological reading of the Good Samaritan


Today the CofI daily office lectionary NT reading for MP was the parable of the Good Samaritan.  It is appropriate, therefore, to revisit Augustine's Christological reading of the Good Samaritan, reminding us that the parable - rather than being a moralistic addendum - coheres with and flows from the Church's proclamation of the Cross and Resurrection:

A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho; Adam himself is meant; Jerusalem is the heavenly city of peace, from whose blessedness Adam fell; Jericho means the moon, and signifies our mortality, because it is born, waxes, wanes, an dies. Thieves are the devil and his angels. Who stripped him, namely; of his immortality; and beat him, by persuading him to sin; and left him half-dead, because in so far as man can understand and know God, he lives, but in so far as he is wasted and oppressed by sin, he is dead; he is therefore called half-dead. The priest and the Levite who saw him and passed by, signify the priesthood and ministry of the Old Testament which could profit nothing for salvation. Samaritan means Guardian, and therefore the Lord Himself is signified by this name. The binding of the wounds is the restraint of sin. Oil is the comfort of good hope; wine the exhortation to work with fervent spirit. The beast is the flesh in which He deigned to come to us. The being set upon the beast is belief in the incarnation of Christ. The inn is the Church, where travelers returning to their heavenly country are refreshed after pilgrimage. The morrow is after the resurrection of the Lord. The two pence are either the two precepts of love, or the promise of this life and of that which is to come.