Resurrecting the Anglican way: myth, confusion, uncertainty and doubt

The point about the Resurrection of Jesus is that by any normal standards it is so preposterous that it cannot possibly have happened. Unless God himself intervened and made it happen. There is no half-measure that will soften the absurdity of the claim: it doesn’t help to say Jesus was partly resurrected, “spiritually” resurrected, resurrected as a myth or resurrected as some quasi-mystical Jungian inner resurrection.

It is entirely binary, either/or. One moment there was a corpse, the next a living Jesus in a real body. Either believe it or don’t but, for God’s sake – and I mean that literally – don’t turn it into a watery imitation of what it claims to be. Like this:

Confusion about the resurrection continues to this day. I think that many of the original chronicles were essentially myths created by the first believers to help them make sense of events beyond human explanation. Their uncertainty is probably best summed up in a comment by one of the men at dinner in Emmaus—“We had hoped,” he said, “that he might have been the one who would redeem Israel.” But at this point, obviously, that hope was fragile.

Jesus makes an attempt to explain how his passion and death had long been intimated in the Hebrew scriptures; but even then, he is met by hesitant disbelief.

It took time and spiritual discernment for the early Christian community to come to experience the meaning, if not the actuality, of Jesus’ reappearance.

Eventually, however, “The Lord is risen; he is risen indeed!” became an experiential truth, a claim that many would make personally. Still later came the conviction that everyone could experience a personal resurrection just like Jesus. What started as a claim from a few confused people matured into a global confession of faith.

Recognizing how the reality of “resurrection” burst upon a perplexed group should remind us that there will always be stages of doubt as well as conviction. I continue to evolve in my own discernment of what it all means.

Episcopal Church task force uncovers the true definition of “evangelism”

Some years ago, the Diocese of Niagara had a Decade of Evangelism. Having a decade of something – it doesn’t really matter what – is something Anglican bishops do every so often to create the illusion that they are men of action not just men wearing tea cosies.

There was, indeed, frenzied activity in the diocese during those ten years. Clergy held meetings, led task-forces and gathered focus groups. To decide on how to define “evangelism”. Alas, after ten long arduous years, the worthy clerics still couldn’t agree, so the project was abandoned.

Not so in The Episcopal Church!

Canon Stephanie Spellers, the canon to the presiding bishop for evangelism, reconciliation and creation care has come up with this:

The definition of Episcopal evangelism—we submit it to anybody else who [needs] another way of understanding evangelism. We worked hard on this, too! There was a whole task force! What we came to was: “Evangelism is a spiritual practice where we seek, name and celebrate Jesus’s loving presence in the stories of all people, then invite everyone to more.”

This is so deep, I feel I must repeat it: “Evangelism is a spiritual practice where we seek, name and celebrate Jesus’s loving presence in the stories of all people, then invite everyone to more.” More what? Whose story? Richard Dawkins’ story? We should invite everyone to more atheism? You see the problem.

In case anyone is developing the impression that Spellers is just another crackpot canon, take a look at these profound pearls that dripped effortlessly from her lips:

But no, for certainly most Episcopalians, we can say “the ‘e’ word.” People are like, “Can’t you use a different word?” and we’re like, “No! Actually we can’t!”

[….]

For instance, a lot of people think, we don’t do that. You know, that Episcopalians don’t do that, that that’s what evangelical Christians do. And we’re like, how did you get here?

Anyone with that kind of teenage talent for using “like” as punctuation obviously has something so important percolating in her skull, that it bubbles out unfiltered by the narrow confines of grammar and basic vocabulary.

I’m not a canon, so I don’t have all the disadvantages of Anglican seminary training, but how about this:

Evangelism: the proclamation of the good news of Jesus Christ: that he, the sinless Son of God took our sin upon himself when he died on the cross, suffering the punishment we deserve. Through his atoning sacrifice and resurrection, we are offered the free gift of eternal life and reconciliation with God the Father. And that only took me ten seconds.

Anglicans turning to Buddhism for Lenten inspiration

A little while ago – before this current unpleasantness – I visited China for a couple of weeks. In my wanderings, I encountered a number of Buddhist temples filled with worshippers on their knees, faces to the ground in front of ugly giant Buddha statues. Don’t let anyone try to convince you that idol worship is no more in the 21st century.

As I’m sure you know, Buddhism teaches that we keep being reborn until we learn our lesson and reach the state of nirvana, a state of nothingness. The lesson we have to learn is that living is suffering, to free ourselves from suffering we must free ourselves from emotion and desire and thus become – nothing.  Superstitious balderdash and, consequently, most appealing to contemporary Anglicans.

From here:

“The more time you spend thinking about yourself, the more suffering you will experience,” says the Dalai Lama. “We create most of our suffering, so it should be logical that we have the ability to create more joy.”

As we wrap up our Lenten self-assessments—especially in the time of COVID-19—we need to be intentional that such inner appraisal is reframed from self-centredness to attention toward the circumstances of others. Many sincere Christians have foundered on the rocky shores of unproductive guilt over their own private demons. The Dalai Lama keeps repeating that unhealthy attention to our weaknesses will not enhance our inner values, nor will it make us better people. In fact, the reverse may be true. “Giving up” things that we know are not good for us may actually expand our negative cravings and make things worse.

[….]

Behind the words of this Buddhist seer I begin to hear the haunting words of Jesus, and my Lenten spiritual journey has been doubly-blessed. Perhaps, as Holy Week approaches, you might consider his words and be blessed, as well.

God is Love

A song I wrote a few years ago. An antidote to “All you need is love”:

The words:

Love is patient, love is kind; love forgives time after time.
Never proud or envious,
forgetting wrongs, love always trusts.
Chorus
For God is love, who took our sin
Upon a cross of pain so grim.
A gift of love so great and pure:
To live in Love for evermore

Love is constant, love always hopes; slow to anger, love never boasts.
Greatest gift of the Father’s heart, fulfilled one day, now seen in part.

Love must guide us on our way, as we love those we meet each day.
Loving Him who first loved us; forgiving all as he forgives.

Ontario house of bishops suspends celebrating the Eucharist

I suspected this was coming. Even though churches are holding online services, it would look pretty silly – elitist even – to have an online display of a priest receiving communion alone. I hope ANiC doesn’t do the same but I fear it will.

What I would like to see is an online Eucharist where each household watching has bread and wine or juice that is consecrated liturgically as usual – except the elements are not all local to the priest. An extraordinary solution to fit the extraordinary times.

From here:

Therefore, the bishops of our province have agreed together that our virtual worship through Holy Week and the season of Easter, or until such time that we can gather in community together, will not include the liturgy of the Eucharist. Sacramental celebrations are the work of the whole People of God and require a gathering of people who can be physically present to one another. That is impossible for most of us at this time. The Great Three Days of Easter, and through the 50 days of the season, we will be fasting from the Eucharist but feasting on the Word. We believe that the Risen One, the Word, by the power of the Holy Spirit, is present and active with us as we hear and receive him in the word of the scriptures, in that word interpreted and proclaimed in preaching, and in the word inwardly digested, by faith, in each person.

What love is this

Another song I wrote for Lent:

Here are the words:

To come from glory to this world of sin and suffering;
To die upon the cross of shame, to give your life for me:
Oh what love is this whose power can hold
the planets in their course.
Oh what love is this that’s strong enough
to break upon the cross.
What love is this, oh what love.

To live a life of sacrifice, a King without your crown;
To be punished by the world
that through your word was born:
Oh what love is this whose agony will put an end to pain.
Oh what love is this whose blood pours out
in suffering for our gain.
What love is this, oh what love.

To know the end before your birth, still you chose to come;
Divinity to live as man: the Father’s only Son.
Oh what love is this that’s overcome the tyranny of sin.
Oh what love is this that broke death’s bonds
to free you the third day.
What love is this, oh what love.
© 2003 David Jenkins

The missing component in the church’s COVID-19 response

This is how the church is responding to the Wuhan virus that is creating worldwide havoc.

I’ll start with the most fatuous: almost every Anglican archbishop is exhorting us to light a candle. A bit like this:

I have nothing against candles – except that we now have incandescent, fluorescent and LED lights that work better and don’t set things on fire. The problem is, whenever something bad happens, people compulsively light candles to symbolise…. something, nobody really knows what. Instead of a candle, why aren’t the bishops telling us to put a cross in the window; at least that is a clear symbol that announces to passers by the convictions of the occupants.

Then we have the synchronised recitation of the Lord’s Prayer. That can’t be bad, other than the “Thy will be done” bit. What, perish the thought, if His will is to smite what is undoubtedly an evil generation and its ecclesiastical enablers, hip and thigh?

Lastly, the church is no longer meeting. I find myself in two minds about this. As far as I am aware, never in the history of the church have Christians been afraid to congregate. If persecuted, Christians met in secret. I believe that the church continued to meet during the black death – someone correct me if I am wrong. Are Christians just as afraid of death as everyone else? I know, we don’t want to see the grim reaper marching through our congregations, that’s why I am in two minds about it.

What is the missing component? Repentance. Admittedly, the Anglican Church of Canada is in a state of constant repentance about bringing Christianity to the original inhabitants of Canada. But what about the very real current evils it tolerates – even celebrates – in our society? In Canada, 100,000 babies are murdered in the womb every year; euthanasia is now legal and has killed more people than the Wuhan virus (as of this writing); children are fed transgender nonsense by adults and being butchered to become something they are not and never will be. Has the church stood against any of this?

I know that to even suggest that God might be judging the world will evoke shrieks of horror from all, the loudest coming from clergy. But what if it is true? Should not the church be calling on the country to repent just in case? Before it gets even worse.