Wednesday 27 September 2006

Of ecclesiastical polity and such

My nephew, Christopher, who is in the course of law studies, has an astonishing interest in and gift for things political. His knowledge of 'current events' is so vast that I daresay one could ask him about anything happening from Brussels to Hong Kong to some obscure city in the midwestern US and he would know every detail. In my own case, though I cannot be faulted in historical knowledge (provided, of course, the events took place at least a century ago, preferably five or more), my natural inclinations are related to culture. I also can be handicapped by that liturgy, ascetic theology, and what I'll term a patristic emphasis tend to colour everything with an attitude of 'let us see just how writers were encouraging the practise of contemplation and virtue.'

This naturally means that I can know minute details of certain historical periods, but unintentionally become so selective (I do not understand politics, war, conquering lands or seeking gold) that one might think I observed earthly history from a position on a distant planet. (Probably Saturn. Not only because it is the ruler of Capricorn, but because I always was so taken by those glorious rings. Ah, the heavens declare the glory of God... now, see what I mean? My readers will also begin to grasp that science eludes me as well. I can nearly levitate if I view a model of the DNA molecule...)

In recent weeks, I have been attending a lecture and discussion series about Richard Hooker. I find it extremely valuable that those conducting the programme include a theologian and a professor of law. I am hardly unfamiliar with the Elizabethan area - I am not Gloriana for nothing. During the past few years, it happened that, as part of my studies, I presented papers on the Elizabethan Settlement, the Book of Common Prayer, and the fate of the 1549 Prayer Book. But I suppose that one with a certain awe at the development of the Church of England (which was an historical accident, after all, if a most providential one) is hampered (even while understanding the importance of the unity of the state church) when she not only stumbles in the dark at things legal but had so much Roman Catholic experience (I do not mean in relation to marvellous works of theology which I've devoured - this is parish and diocesan nitty gritty) that she inwardly, if without realising this at the moment, winces at the words 'obedience' and 'authority.'

I have great respect for Richard Hooker, even if his writings sometimes give me the impression of a man who was overly fond of the sound of his own voice. It is no secret (to anyone who has read either this blog or any paper I wrote about the Reformation) that I loathe Calvinism - I'm still completely puzzled at a post I saw on a forum, from a devout Catholic in the northern United States, who seems to have adulation for the very Puritans who would have despised huge components of his faith. I have no philosophical objections to theocracy, but am not inspired by Geneva. Yet I do have an underlying sense of how carefully Hooker had to tread.

Whatever long lasting, beneficial effects the English Reformation would have (for example, I think the Prayer Book is a liturgical masterpiece, even if I do not see Cranmer as having possessed heroic sanctiry - and I even can be carried off by what a superb version of reformed Catholicism Mary and Cardinal Pole could have seen had Mary ever really listened to what anyone else had to say), it was a wicked time. (Find me any era which was not.) I have no illusions, either, about the holiness of Spain or the approaches of Pius V. I know the situation around the Elizabethan Settlement very well, and would hardly have wished to have been in the position of the original Gloriana - needing to unite the nation against enemies, and having the reigning pope give her Roman Catholic subjects the mission of overthrowing their heretic queen and uniting with nations of the true faith (...Spain, perhaps?). Theologically, and as far as long term conformity was concerned, I see the brilliance of the Settlement being in its underlying pragmatism. The Prayer Book services, in total, are sufficient for one following, perhaps, a vocation as a Benedictine monk - it is a Rule. (That this was on Elizabeth's mind was unlikely... bear with me, since I'm slipping into my usual mode again.) But the brilliance was in accepting that, even if there were many subjects whose theology would lean more to Geneva or Rome (and undoubtedly many, many subjects who weren't thinking of theology at all), a unity in worship was possible - and still is - despite controversies over doctrine and the like.

In last night's class, I, who can see many elements to just about everything but seldom see the obvious, found an explanation valuable. Where I see the Prayer Book as a means to orthopraxy (after all, how much can we really know of God - yet practise, recitation of the Offices, attendance at the Eucharist, means acting with worship - and, in the course of this, developing true worship), the Puritans saw a lack of sincerity. I am sure I'll be forgiven for wondering how a viewpoint that so stressed the gap between the status of the elect (whoever they were) and the depravity of human nature (deification would never have the popularity of 'the fall') could incorporate, at least implicity, a sense that one must have the virtue in the first place in order for worship to be sincere.

I also valued a previous class explanation related to how the positive anthropology Hooker expresses has an affinity with that of Thomas Aquinas. (I've never been one for depravity.) And this in an era where heads might decorate London Bridge, the Elizabethan reign (later to be seen as rather glorious) was shaky, uncertain, and threatened, and dreadful sinners (such as Roman Catholics) were in strong enough supply.

There is a paradox, common today but universal to all periods. The idea that one's current time is far superior to that past, yet that things are so much worse than they were forty years ago, ever shall endure. In Hooker's day, it must have been horribly confusing for the truly devout! I wonder if they had to check the calendar to see if they were Catholic or Protestant today, or it this was the season for erecting or smashing the rood screen.

Whether this was explicitly in Hooker's mind or not, I did have a thought which may be worth sharing. He treats of how, though all essential to salvation is in the scriptures, there are Christian beliefs not explicit in the gospels and epistles. Liturgical fan (...or wind machine) that I am, I naturally was thinking of how frequently Christ's Church grasped truths of revelation in the liturgy before they were 'codified.' Certainly Paul's epistles give a hint, and early liturgical manuscripts a strong one, that recognition of the Trinity, high Christology and the like were expressed in worship before ecumenical councils and creeds made them explicit. The Book of Common Prayer includes much scripture - but not without elements from the liturgy through the ages. A totally 'sola scriptura' approach, with liturgy downplayed or disdained, can keep one both from cherishing elements of such revelation, and from the very orthopraxy (however some might mistake it for a lack of sincerity) which draws one to God, however unaware.

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