Put on the armor of light

Both the Collect and the Epistle of Advent Sunday call us to “put on the armor of light”. Here are some reflections on what that means, from Handley Moule (1841-1920), New Testament scholar, and Bishop of Durham, 1901-20.

It remains for our time, as truly as ever, a fact of religious life—this necessity to press it home upon the religious, as the religious, that they are called to a practical and detailed holiness; and that they are never to ignore the possibility of even the worst falls. So mysteriously can the subtle “flesh”, in the believing receiver of the gospel, becloud or distort the holy import of the thing received. So fatally easy is it to “corrupt the best into the worst”, using the very depth and riches of spiritual truth as if it could be a substitute for patient practice, instead of its mighty stimulus.

But glorious is the method illustrated here for triumphant resistance to that tendency. What is it? It is not to retreat from spiritual principle upon a cold and naturalistic program of activity and probity. It is to penetrate through the principle to the crucified and living Lord who is its heart and power; it is to bury self in him, and to arm the will with him. It is to look for him as coming, but also, and yet more urgently, to use him as present… As it were, at our feet is laid the Lord Jesus Christ, in all he is, in all he has done, in his indissoluble union with us in it all, as we are one in him by the Holy Ghost. It is for us to see in him our power and victory, and to “put him on”, in a personal act which, while all by grace, is yet in itself our own. And how is this done? It is by the “committal of the keeping of our souls unto him” not vaguely, but definitely and with purpose, in view of each and every temptation. It is by “living our life in the flesh by faith in the Son of God”; that is to say, in effect, by perpetually making use of the crucified and living Savior, one with us by the Holy Spirit; by using him as our living deliverer, our peace and power, amidst all that the dark hosts of evil can do against us…

If we would indeed “arm ourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ” we must awake and be astir to “know whom we have trusted”. We must explore his word about himself. We must ponder it above all in the prayer which converses with him over his promises, till they live to us in his light. We must watch and pray, that we may be alert to employ our armament. The Christian who steps out into life “lightheartedly”, thinking superficially of his weakness, and of his foes, is only too likely to think of his Lord superficially, and to find of even this heavenly armor that “he cannot go with it, for he hath not proved it”. But all this leaves absolutely untouched the divine simplicity of the matter. It leaves it wonderfully true that the decisive, the satisfying, the thorough, moral victory and deliverance comes to the Christian man not by trampling about with his own resolves, but by committing himself to his savior and keeper, who has conquered him, that now he may conquer “his strong enemy” for him…

Yes, we can “put him on” as our “panoply of light”. We can put him on as “the Lord”, surrendering ourselves to his absolute while most benignant sovereignty and will, deep secret of repose. We can put him on as “Jesus”, clasping the truth that he, our human brother, yet divine, “saves his people from their sins”. We can put him on as “Christ”, our head anointed without measure by the eternal Spirit, and now sending of that same Spirit into his happy members, so that we are indeed one with him, and receive into our whole being the resources of his life.

Our Anglican Heritage: (21) Priests

In spite of the fact that it is misunderstood, the Anglican reformers chose to retain the term “priest”. They did so because they knew that it had an honorable etymology. We must be careful to understand that our English word “priest” is derived from the Greek word presbuteros, which means an elder.

In fact the English word priest has come to be used to translate two Greek words: presbuteros with the meaning of an elder or pastor, and hiereus with the meaning of one who offers sacrifices at an altar on behalf of the people. It is clear that the hiereus style of priesthood came to an end when our Lord Jesus Christ offered himself up once and for all on the cross. Because of his sacrifice, all who trust in him have direct access to God’s throne of grace, with him alone as mediator. For this reason, to avoid confusion, the Church of South India has chosen to call its clergy presbyters.

What is the role of a priest in this sense of presbyter or elder? As with deacons, we meet with presbyters in the earliest church in Jerusalem. Without any introduction or explanation (suggesting that they were an established and accepted part of the church’s structure) we are told in Acts 11 of Barnabas and Paul bringing gifts from the Christians in Antioch to the elders (presbuteroi) of the church in Jerusalem. A few chapters on we find the same Barnabas and Paul appointing presbyters in each of the churches in Lystra, Derbe and Antioch. In his book Called to Serve, (revised and republished as Freed to Serve) Michael Green suggests that we should also understand the “leader” of Hebrews 13, “those who are over you in the Lord” in 1 Thessalonians 5, those who exercise leadership in Romans 12 and the “pastor-teachers” of Ephesians 4 as exercising the ministry of the presbyterate. With reference to these presbyters, the apostle Paul writes to Timothy:

The elders who direct the affairs of the church well are worthy of double honor, especially those whose work is preaching and teaching. For the Scripture says, “Do not muzzle the ox while it is treading out the grain,” and “The worker deserves his wages.”

Clearly Paul saw this as an important function within the church, especially when we remember that he was unwilling to accept compensation for his own work as an apostle. To this Peter adds:

To the elders among you, I appeal as a fellow elder, a witness of Christ’s sufferings and one who also will share in the glory to be revealed: Be shepherds of God’s flock that is under your care, serving as overseers—not because you must, but because you are willing, as God wants you to be; not greedy for money, but eager to serve; not lording it over those entrusted to you, but being examples to the flock. And when the Chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the crown of glory that will never fade away.

This high view of the office of elder is reflected in the service of ordination of priests in the 1662 Prayer Book, where the bishop says to the ordinands,

And now again we exhort you, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you have in remembrance, into how high a dignity, and to how weighty an office and charge ye are called: that is to say, to be messengers, watchmen, and stewards of the Lord; to teach and to premonish, to feed and to provide for the Lord’s family; to seek for Christ’s sheep that are dispersed abroad, and for his children who are in the midst of this sinful world, that they may be saved through Christ for ever.

The role of the presbyter, then, is to give pastoral leadership to the congregation. This means not only to teach and to preside at the Lord’s table, but also spearhead the outreach of the parish. Underlying this concept are the pictures which Jesus gives of the shepherd, who not only faithfully tends his flock, but also goes out to bring lost sheep into the fold.

Our Anglican Heritage: (20) Deacons

Unlike the majority of the churches on the European continent and the Church of Scotland, the Reformation in England to a great degree left the hierarchy of the church intact. It is true that the monasteries and convents were disbanded and a number of minor orders of ministry (such as doorkeepers and subdeacons) were let go. However, the ancient orders of bishops, priests and deacons were retained. In the preface to the Ordinal in the Book of Common Prayer we read:

It is evident unto all men diligently reading holy Scripture and ancient authors, that from the apostles’ time there have been these orders of ministry in Christ’s church: bishops, priests, and deacons.

The statement is interesting as much for what it does not say as much as for what it does. For one thing, it does not limit ministry to these three orders. It simply argues for their legitimacy. No doubt the reformers were aware that the Bible speaks of apostles, prophets, evangelists, teachers, workers of miracles and administrators, to name a few. I suspect that they would have argued for bishops, priests and deacons as part of the bene esse, rather than the esse, of the church—useful and important, but not absolutely necessary.

We begin our study with the term deacon, the office which I believe is the essence of all ministry. Indeed, the Greek word from which it is derived (diakonos) is consistently translated “minister” in the King James Version of the Bible. Jesus used the word in the gospels when he said that “whoever would be great among you must be your deacon”. Not only that, but after the apostles themselves, deacons are the first form of ministry which we find in the New Testament. In Acts 6, the apostles called upon the church in Jerusalem to “choose seven men from among you who are known to be full of the Spirit and wisdom” to look after the distribution of aid to the widows in the congregation. While the word “deacon” is not used here, it would seem that the passage is pointing to the same function. Later in the New Testament period we find deacons in the church at Philippi and at Ephesus. In his instructions to his young protégé Timothy, Paul writes,

Deacons … are to be men worthy of respect, sincere, not indulging in much wine, and not pursuing dishonest gain. They must keep hold of the deep truths of the faith with a clear conscience. They must first be tested; and then if there is nothing against them, let them serve as deacons.

In the Prayer Book service of ordination, deacons are instructed that not only are they to assist the pastor in leading worship and teaching, they are also “to search for the sick, poor and impotent people of the parish … that they may be relieved with the alms of the parishioners …” That the diaconate, the ministry of service, is basic to all ministry, can be seen in the fact that both priests and bishops are first ordained as deacons.

Our Anglican Heritage: (19) Liturgical Revision

The variety of liturgical resources now available is enormous and ranges from some very fine prayers to others that are paltry and trite. One liturgiologist has described the task of the modern clergy or worship team as having moved from being supplied with a complete TV dinner to being given a package of frozen peas and told to go ahead and make a meal. As a result, a great deal more creativity and thought is being demanded in the preparation of worship from local churches, their worship committees and the clergy than might have been the case a generation ago.

While there is no longer a set of common words, there is agreement across the Anglican Communion in what the shape of the liturgy should be and in what it should contain. At the Anglican Consultative Council meetings in 1973 it was agreed that any celebration of Holy Communion should contain eight basic elements: (1) The Preparation (including a greeting, a prayer for the Holy Spirit’s help, an act of praise and an act of penitence); (2) the Ministry of the Word (one or two Scripture readings, with the Gospel, a sermon and the creed); (3) the Prayers (intercession and thanksgiving, followed by a confession of sin if not already said, and the Peace); (4) the Offertory; (5) the Thanksgiving over bread and wine; (6) the Breaking of the Bread; (7) the Communion, with a post-communion prayer or canticle of thanksgiving and dedication; and (8) the Dismissal.

The outcome of all this is that, while you may not be able to walk into any Anglican service and follow it blindfolded, you should be able to perceive a pattern that is recognizably Anglican.

In his posthumously published Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer, C.S. Lewis urged that the task of liturgical revision be carried out slowly and imperceptibly—“one obsolete word replaced in a century”. The intervening forty-three years have taken us too far for that. However, Lewis states an important principle if revision is to be successful:

Every service is a structure of acts and words through which we receive a sacrament, or repent, or supplicate, or adore. And it enables us to do these things best—if you like, it “works” best—when, through long familiarity, we don’t have to think about it. As long as you notice, and have to count, the steps, you are not yet dancing but only learning to dance. A good shoe is a shoe you don’t notice…. The perfect church service would be one we were almost unaware of; our attention would have been on God.

Our Anglican Heritage: (18) Moving on from 1662

There was a day (not very long ago) when you could walk into any Anglican church anywhere in the world and join in the service blind-folded, as it would be practically word-for-word the same as what you were accustomed to. Over the past twenty years that has become less and less the case.

The main reason for this was that, although there have always been moves to revise the Book of Common Prayer historical and political circumstances have made this impractical (if not impossible). What began to happen in the mid-nineteenth century, however, was that while the words of the services may not have changed, the way in which the services were conducted began to vary widely. Candles, colored vestments and hangings, genuflections, processions, incense and a host of other practices began to be introduced in various combinations from parish to parish. At first there was trenchant opposition, but gradually, by the early years of the twentieth century this had given way to acceptance of a breadth of expression in worship within Anglicanism.

The first attempt to make any major changes to the Prayer Book itself and to gain popular support within the church came in England in 1928. In that year the church convocations gave permission for a revised Prayer Book (rather like the 1929 book or Rite I of the Episcopal Church) to be authorized. The attempt was thwarted in parliament, however, and the revised Prayer Book became the “deposited” Prayer Book of 1928. At the same time, elements of the new book came into popular usage in many of the parishes and college chapels in England. While the revision of the Prayer Book had been quashed for the moment, the need for revision along a number of lines became increasingly apparent.

For one thing, the Book of Common Prayer had been devised to suit the needs of a single national church. It did not take into account the fact that that church had begun to spread to almost every corner of the world, to cultural and political milieux quite different from England in the sixteenth century. In many of these places Christianity (much less the Anglican form of it) was not the national religion or even the dominant one. Yet that seems to be assumed at many points in the Prayer Book.

In addition there were local customs and traditions that needed to find their way into the worship of the church. One Canadian contribution in this respect is the service of Thanksgiving for the Blessings of Harvest, which was added to our Prayer Book in the revision of 1918. Besides this, one of the underlying principles of Anglicanism has always been that within each country the church has authority to develop its own forms of service (always, of course, in conformity with Scripture).

A second factor was that liturgical scholars were becoming familiar with documents such as the Apostolic Traditions of Hippolytus and the Apostolic Constitutions, which had been unknown before the nineteenth century. A new awareness of the worship of the primitive church brought with it new debates about the propriety of some of the practices contained in the Prayer Book. With regard to the Holy Communion, for example, a new understanding of Jesus’ words, “Do this in memory of me,” had arisen out of recent studies of the Jewish concept of anamnesis.

Thirdly, the language of the Prayer Book, which had once helped the English language to soar to new heights of eloquence, was becoming less and less the language of the common people. The Anglican Church was in danger of becoming like the Coptic Church or the Russian Church, both of which use classical forms of the language frozen in time and no longer understood by the vast majority of the laity.

This fact came into sharp relief when the Roman Catholic Church began translating its liturgies into the vernacular and contemporary texts of English liturgical materials common to most denominations (e.g., the creeds and the canticles) began to be produced. One of the principles of Anglican worship has always been that it be “in a tongue … understanded of the people” (Article 24).

What this has meant is that, since the 1960s a host of liturgies has burst onto the scene. While in many cases the 1662 Book of Common Prayer (or one of its near relatives) remains the lawful pattern, almost every branch of the Anglican Communion has now produced its own service book.

Initially the pattern was to merely revise the original Book of Common Prayer. The church in New Zealand was the first to move into “you” language in addressing God in the late 1960s. Since then liturgical committees have been increasingly innovative in what they have produced, to the point where in many places it is possible to conduct a service without the appearance of a single word or phrase from the Book of Common Prayer.

Our Anglican Heritage: (17) Humble Access

One of the jewels of the Prayer Book communion service is a prayer that has become known as the Prayer of Humble Access. I regard its removal from many contemporary liturgies as a retrograde step, as I believe it is the quintessential expression of Anglican piety.

We do not presume
to come to this thy table, O merciful Lord,
trusting in our own righteousness,
but in thy manifold and great mercies.
We are not worthy
so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy table.
But thou art the same Lord,
whose property is always to have mercy:
Grant us, therefore, gracious Lord,
so to eat the flesh of thy dear Son Jesus Christ,
and to drink his blood,
that our sinful bodies may be made clean by his body,
and our souls washed through his most precious blood,
and that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us.

This prayer has been described as being like an onion, for you can peel off layer after layer of profound biblical imagery as you make your way to the heart of it. We hear echoes of the Old Testament prayer of Daniel, who pleaded with God on behalf of himself and his people, “We do not make requests of you because we are righteous, but because of your great mercy” (Daniel 9:18b). We hear the centurion who came to Jesus on behalf of his servant who was at the point of death and confessed, “Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof” (Matthew 8:8). We hear the Canaanite woman who desperately wanted her daughter healed and was not satisfied with Jesus’ apparent rejection of her because she was a Gentile. “Yes, Lord,” she said to him, “but even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table” (Matthew 15:27). We hear a prayer of David in the Psalms, “Turn to me and have mercy on me, as you always do to those who love your name” (Psalm 119:132). And lastly we hear the words of our Lord himself following the miraculous feeding of the five thousand: “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood dwells in me, and I in him” (John 6:56).

If it does nothing else, perhaps this prayer can serve to remind us of the profound mystery that lies at the heart of Holy Communion: that people such as you and I should be called to dine at the table of God; that Christ the pure and spotless Lamb of God, who suffered and died for us on the cross, holds out his grace and his very self for us today; and that at the last we shall stand in the company of angels and archangels in blood-washed robes of spotless white as guests at the Supper of the Lamb.

The Advent Wreath

Advent begins next Sunday. Here is a short Advent wreath liturgy we will be using this year:

Advent 1
Leader: Light and hope in Jesus Christ our Lord.
All: Thanks be to God.
Leader: God of hope, as we look to the coming of Jesus, make our hearts ready and help us to place our hope in you. And strengthen us to do your will by sharing your hope with others. We ask it in the name of Jesus, the light of the world.
All: Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!

Advent 2
Leader: Light and peace in Jesus Christ our Lord.
All: Thanks be to God.
Leader: God of peace, grant that we may find peace as we prepare for our Lord’s coming, and help us to remember that you alone are the giver of lasting peace. Help us to seek the paths of peace in our lives, and give us courage to follow them. We ask it in the name of Jesus, the light of the world.
All: Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!

Advent 3
Leader: Light and joy in Jesus Christ our Lord.
All: Thanks be to God.
Leader: God of joy, we praise you for the fulfillment of your promise of a Messiah and for the gift of salvation through your Son, Jesus. As we wait for his coming, fill our lives with the joy of your life-giving Spirit, and help us to spread the joyful news of your love. We ask it in the name of Jesus, the light of the world.
All: Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!

Advent 4
Leader: Light and love in Jesus Christ our Lord.
All: Thanks be to God.
Leader: God of love, as we prepare for Jesus’ coming, fill our hearts with love for you, that we may always put you first and follow his footsteps. And help us to show your love in our lives, that others may know it too. We ask it in the name of Jesus, the light of the world.
All: Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!

Christmas
Leader: Light and grace in Jesus Christ our Lord.
All: Thanks be to God.
Leader: God of grace, we thank you for the light that guided humble shepherds to the holy child. Lead us too, knowing that as we follow you, we will never walk in darkness, but will have the true light of life. We ask it in the name of Jesus, the light of the world.
All: Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!