Archive for

December, 2013

...

8 things ecumenism is not

no comments

Ecumenism, its purposes and its nature, seem sometimes arcane. But deeply, to me, ecumenism is highly important because it is an attempt to reflect the unity of the Body of Christ in the way we conduct worship: with one another. So here are a few things I’ve found ecumenism is not:

ecumenism

Photo: Yyaroshko (Wikimedia, under CC license)

1. Ecumenism is not a watering down of doctrine. It is not about trying to find the essence of Christianity and venturing no further. See, our faith is (or should be) so pervasive as to tint our every action. Therefore, sticking our ecumenical thought to what we deem essential and not saying anything about the rest is tantamount to restricting ecumenism to a tiny part of who we are.

2. Ecumenism is not about pretending we have no differences, or at least no substantial differences. It is not about burying our head in the sand and inviting others to follow our practice; nor is it about blindly following other practices by pretending they’re all the same anyway. Such an attitude is presumptuous at best, and maybe damaging – especially around issues of communion. The Body of Christ is made up of a variety of organs; that diversity should be embraced at least to some extent, rather than glossed over as “something for another day”.

3. Ecumenism is not about glorifying those differences either. The differences are there, but we are all looking towards God. And in ecumenism, we are looking towards Him together.

3. Ecumenism is not inter-faith. It’s not talking with people who are assumed to be radically different. In “doing” ecumenism, we are joining our brothers and sisters in worshiping the same God: it is joint action, and relies on an ultimately common understanding of God.

4. Ecumenism is not an excuse for evangelism. The only attitude that can be had in ecumenical events is one of brotherhood. Yes, teaching can happen, discussions can happen – and it would be a sad thing if they didn’t! After all, it wouldn’t be much of a congregation if people didn’t talk with one another, or rebuked one another. But while such disagreements and ensuing discussions are welcome, they are not the main thrust of ecumenical action.

5. Ecumenism is not about striving for peace. Peace is far more easily achieved through mutual ignorance anyway!

6. Ecumenism is not done for the sake of being nice. Who cares about niceties? We have plenty of other people to be nice to. It’s not for the sake of looking lovey-dovey and politically correct either! No, it is done because we are one body, one church, and we should sometimes start acting like it.

7. Ecumenism is not about dialogue. It’s not a question of “understanding the other” better, or of debating thorny theological points with one another. Imagine this: Calvinists and Arminians belonging to separate bodies, and joining together – and all the event revolving around predestination! There would be a point in that, granted – any discussion on predestination is welcome – but is it really everything Christians talk about? Surely not! Then why make it the main point of a joint event?

8. Ecumenism is not trumping other church activities. I see ecumenism as an outlook, an attitude which, yes, comes through in some specific events. And in an ideal world, this attitude should shine through regular church activities. But in the event it does not, there is little point going towards the outside at the expense of the inside.

Transitions

no comments

For about as long as I can remember, I’ve been a student. High school, then undergraduate, and so on and so forth until the PhD. There hasn’t been much of a respite, either: rather than a clean cut-off between my Masters and my PhD; or between my PhD and the start of my teaching life, there was an overlap where I was juggling both at once.

And now it is over. I passed the final piece of examination last Thursday – and now, beyond the graduation ceremony and (probably) some paperwork, it is finished. And I find it oddly weird – to not consider myself as a student any longer.

transitions

I won’t say I miss it. The whole research process is not one I have found particularly enjoyable. By the fourth year of the PhD, I couldn’t wait for it all to be over. But at the same time, it was familiar: not necessarily comfortable, but at least safe and predictable. And so, the closer I got to the Viva (examination) date, the less I was looking forward to it – not out of fear of failing, I knew my stuff; but because I knew about being a PhD student.

Procrastination, not of the task, but of the reward that marks the end of the task. We all do that sometimes: finishing up an essay when you’ve done all the reading, getting a house when you’ve already worked to be able to afford it, etc.

Israel in exile reacted in much the same way – they delayed getting their inheritance. Never mind that they had traveled in the wilderness for many years, and toiled hard towards that inheritance. Never mind that this was a land of plenty, ripe for the taking. No, Israel was procrastinating not the task – that was done – but the reward itself.

I never fully got why. But here’s what I now think: wandering tribes in exile, that’s an identity. That gives us something to moan about (maybe the Hebrews were somewhat British) And it’s one we’re used to. This new freedom and land-ownership, that’s good, yes, but we’re not used to that. So, yeah, we want it, but we’ll only get around to it a bit later.

Silly, eh?

Shift forward to the New Covenant. We know our identities as sinners. We sometimes hide from it, we sure don’t like it. But we’re not always ready to go and claim our inheritance – that of repentance and redemption. We’re slow, not necessarily because we don’t realise that we can claim it, but because we’re not told enough to stop delaying it.

So stop delaying it. And claim what is yours: new life.

Leadership? What leadership?

no comments

Leadership is a word that gets bandied around a fair bit. We’re all leaders, or so we’re told; and yet, “leadership” is a skill that acts as a criterion for selection for ordination in the Church  of England.

So what is this elusive leadership? Is it simply living holy lives? Or is it actively challenging others to seek better things? Is it actually self-reproductive management (leaders growing leaders etc.)? Here comes the problem: the word has been used to mean so many different things that “leader” now means either a very specific “in charge” position, or a watered down quality of being that we all have.

And so there are some activities which appear to fall under “leadership”, such as “Worship leader”, pastor, small group leader, and so on and so forth. That shoves the rest of the activities in church into a lump of facilitating activities. Welcoming. Providing tea and, yes, even coffee in some churches. Being a server. Working at the sound desk or with the slideshow. Reading out Scripture. Things that are done because they need to be done.

leadership

Photo: Wikimedia user Bridgman, under CC license

That doesn’t stop these activities from being appealing. Far from it – I think in some cases, the lack of responsibility associated with the absence of perceived leadership is very appealing indeed. And for a wealth of other reasons, people (and I include myself in this) end up helping out in a church, but passively and without meaning. Because the work needs doing, and that’s it.

I was being a server because, or so I thought, for the sake of tradition, someone needed to hold up the candle; and someone needed to help prepare the Table. It’s only after I had been doing it a while and through talking with the coordinator that I realised that the purpose  of “high” church liturgy, and through it, acolytes, was to lead people into worship. In carrying the candle, I was leading people, encouraging them to look towards God. The role and the actions of being a server never felt the same after that.

The same goes for reading Scripture. If you’re called upon to read Scripture at your church, and you’re just thinking it’s a necessary first step so the sermon can build on it; and that the true leadership rests within the preacher’s hands, you are wrong. Yours is the responsibility to make the text come alive. Yours is the responsibility to draw people to it, through your speaking.

The list goes on, and on, and on. Every single role in a church, from flower arranger to preacher, from musical director to welcomer, is there to point towards God and to help others in that direction. So let’s stop all that nonsense about calling specific positions of “leadership” when all they are is positions of management. If we don’t, we risk turning those jobs into mundane tasks, rather than parts of the supernatural event of heaven meeting earth.

And if you help out, in whatever small or big way, at your church, then be sure of this: you have a great responsibility; and you’re not just facilitating the smooth operation of the service: you are pointing people towards Christ and directing their gaze in the right direction.

Something about repentance

1 comment

A while back, my friend Ed wrote a post explaining that repenting means more than simply feeling sorry for  sin. It implies turning away from sin – it implies honestly rejecting, in our minds, our actions as ungodly and resolving not to do them again. Of course, we fail again and again, but when we repent, our minds and hearts should be fully intent on turning, once and for all, away from sin and towards God.

repent

Photo: bradleypjohnson, reused under CC license

Or should it?

I have a simple problem with that. It suggests we can reach that state on our own. It suggests that being genuinely sorry (and I’m not talking about acting on that change of heart – I’m talking about being sorry in and of itself) is something we can and should do in our own strength. Only then, only after we have taken the decision to repent, are we then able to welcome Jesus.

But that’s not the pattern we see, on multiple occasions, in the Bible. The paralytic wanted to get healed, not to repent of his sins. Zacchaeus wanted to see Jesus, that’s why he ran ahead of the crowd – not because he had had a change of heart. Again and again, you don’t see people going ahead to Jesus after they’ve had a change of heart; rather, it is after they’ve come into Jesus’s presence that they do.

I’m sure you can start to see the problem. We’ve managed to understand that we don’t have to be squeaky clean in our actions before we can turn to Jesus, yes, but we still believe that we have to be squeaky clean in our intentions. It’s right there, in the baptismal promises. And that is a barrier to our true repentance – because just like we can’t be squeaky clean in our actions on our own, we can’t be squeaky clean in our intentions on our own.

Oh, for the casual, little sins, we’re okay thinking “oh, well, I won’t do that again.” For the big sins, too, the first time we see them for what they are. But after failing after failing after failing to act righteously for that particular sin, it gets difficult to even face it. It gets impossible to even want to change it. Because we haven’t realised even our intentions we have surrendered to Jesus.

What if, when John the Baptist said “Repent, for the kingdom is near“, he didn’t mean to warn us of impending doom, but of a new possibility? “Repent: now you can, see, the kingdom is near.”