Piety or Pieteism

P. Andrew Sandlin, from his new blog:

Pietism as used here includes two things. First, the limitation of piety to the personal or internal, often equated with the "spiritual." The "outer" world, the world of art and music and politics and science and education and technology and economics, is usually considered under Satanic control. In any case, to concern oneself with these matters in a distinctly Christian way is to divert attention from the truly "spiritual" issues of life.

Second, pietism usually involves substituting man's command for God's (see Mark 7). This is its most pernicious trait. Pietists are convinced the Bible's ethics are insufficient, so they must add their own list of regulations that they impose on others: prohibition of watching movies, smoking cigars, employing birth control, driving a Mercedes, drinking coffee, playing the ponies, and so on. "Courtship" is moral and dating is not; at-home moms are moral and working moms are not; dresses are moral and pantsuits are not; and on and on.

My guess (or hope) is that the great Pietist theologians did not endorse this "pietism" - especially the second part. If some find Sandlin's description objectionable, keep in mind that the word "puritan" has been abused to far greater degree.

Whatever the word we use, the traits Sandlin describes make for bad religion and worse ethics - yet "pietistic" Christianity is how most Americans conceive the faith. And this pietism accounts for nearly all of the insufferable and annoying traits of the American character. If there is to be reformation and revival in American Christianity, a lot of it would be a purging of these pietistic ideas.

Idle Thought about Hell

It seems to me that the real objection to Calvinistic predestination has not to do with free will as such, and everything to do with hell.

Nothing is as hilarious as free-will a-millenialists, who maintain that Jesus can return at any time and bring up the believers and condemn the rest to hell - who then turn around and claim that the Calvinist God is cruel and unjust. Their own God is equally cruel and unjust.

Randy Klassen wrote a book called What Does the Bible Really Say About Hell? A good book, but leaves out the full context of Jesus and "Hell" - Gahenna, the "eternal fire" of Jerusalem's garbage dump, which is the fate of unbelievers. For a preterist like me (see sidebar), the conclusion is inescapable - the entire idea of hell is historically literally and poetically metaphorical - the Jewish Temple religion and most of its followers was practically cast into Gahenna - but doesn't suggest much by way of the fate of souls.

Divided We Fall

From the Pontifications blog, Robbie Low on the great Protestant conundrum, the right to private judgment:

Running alongside the internal crisis judicial rulings have decreed that the Church of England’s nature and beliefs can be altered by Parliament and bishops argue in the Lords for full and willing conformity to bad law, reducing the Church to a sort of quasi-mystical rubber stamp for the political ascendancy. Most galling of all for Anglican ‘Catholics’ and most surprising of all to Anglican Evangelicals (should they suspend prejudice and read it) is the last twenty five years of papal teaching. Take any text by the Holy Father and it is shot through with learned faithful exposition of Scripture. Pick up the overwhelming majority of Anglican episcopal or synodical outpourings over the same period and you will, with rare exception, know little about the Word of God but rather more about current required social attitudes.

This is all a long way from the intention of the original protesters, the reformers who sought to cleanse and purify the household of God. But the problem is an old one and inherent in the original breaking of the Western Communion. The question is, ‘By what authority…?’ And here it is that sola scriptura breaks down. For the Bible left in the hands of every man can afford, as we have so often discovered in the history of Christendom, a tool to suit his every convenience. It is not only the devil who can quote scripture to his own ends. The Bible, inspired by the Holy Ghost, is the book of the Church brought into being by and equally inspired by that same Holy Ghost. The Word cannot be interpreted or taught outside that body of faithful believers that is the Church. To think that it can is to fail to understand that it is the living Word—‘sharper than any two-edged sword piercing to the division of soul and spirit, joints and marrow, discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart’ (Hebrews 4.12). It is the Word that examines us, not the other way round. Apostolic succession was the guardianship of that traditio which is the life of the Holy Spirit in the Church. The Holy Spirit and the Word cannot be in contradiction lest we blaspheme and claim that God is in contradiction with himself. Without that authority we are simply a collection of ramshackle personal opinions. My opinion is no better than his or hers or theirs or yours. Consequently, when someone inquires about Anglican teaching these days, our reply is usually personal or parochial with several caveats.

Liturgical Renewal

I am neither equipped nor inclined to disagree with P. Andrew Sandlin's (a "low church catholic") criticism of the "high church" revival in the conservative reformed community. From what I can tell, Sandlin makes excellent points through and through.

I will also say that my (very limited) experience with high church presbyterianism (and conservative reformed/presbyterianism in general) may not be what may be imagined. One church featured guitars as the main musical instrument; another was set in a gymnasium. But both were definitely "high church."

The following is not a criticism or comment on what Sandlin wrote at all, but rather just a thought inspired by what he wrote(In other words, if I'm creating "straw men" here, I'm not suggesting that Sandlin endorses them):

I wonder if the real question is, "What is worship?" If it is primarily about offering praise to God, it would probably be treated one way; if it is primarily about receiving from God, it would probably go another.

What I personally appreciate about Presbyterian HC is that the structure of the service revolves around receiving from God; other from of HC seem to be offering praise in a set, well-regulated, routine way; whereas "low church," is more spontaneous, in one sense, yet also repititious (repeating the same praise chorus lines over and over, and over and over, and over and over, and over and over, and over and over, and over and over...)

God is our Father who wants to give us everything we need, and he is our King who died for his domain, but he is not an Emperor exacting tribute and adulation.

Perhaps worship, at its core, is not an "offering" to God our praises, but rather a "coming home" to our Father. The sanctuary - physically and in our hearts - is the "home" we come to and where we receive the Word from God. We have a God who gives, not receives; that is why we have a Savior more blessed than we. God wants us to to receive from him. So it seems to me that "worship" ought to be organized around receiving the Word of God, rather than around offering praise to God. Such is the pattern I've seen in HC Presbyterian churches. And I cherish it.

Communion as Routine

Douglas Wilson, whose (conservative reformed) Christ Church in Moscow, ID celebrates the Lord's Table weekly:

Repetition is inescapable, and many who object to weekly commemoration of the Lord’s sacrifice for us have no problem whatever with comparable repetitions in other settings.

Christians who would object (loudly) to our recitation of the Apostles’ Creed weekly—because it makes the words "meaningless"—have no problem founding Christian schools where the students recite the Pledge of Allegiance daily. Is that meaningless too?

When you ask a co-worker if he would like to go out for lunch together, do you expect to hear that he doesn’t like to eat really, because he doesn’t want it ever to become "routine." Asked how often he eats, he says that he likes to take a meal once a quarter, so that it will remain "special."

In the grip of such thinking, the absence of the Lord’s Supper is repeated also. Week after week, the Table is consistently not there. Does that become part of the routine?

The answer to faithless routine is not to abandon the routine, but rather to embrace faith. To abandon routine is simply to establish another routine, and if faith has not been exercised, it too becomes an idol. We are Christians; this is the Table of the Lord. We are to put away our idols.

The God of Ultimate Meaning

Everett Wilson's latest at the Partial Observer.

Inter-Communion

When I was in high school, after hearing yet another story about the Pope's failure to do something or other to be "inclusive," I complained - and wasn't and am not Catholic - "I'm sick and tired of these Jewish lesbians who want to become priests!"

So it will always be, I suppose. Protestants will always be angry with Catholics for being Catholic, and then complain about being excluded. As Fr. Jim Tucker writes,

And this brings me to the point I want to make now: the ecclesial nature of Holy Communion. Sharing the Eucharist is more than just a Communion with Jesus Christ Who is received: it is a Communion with every other person receiving, it is a "Yes" to everything the Church believes as the Body of Christ, it is a "Yes" to everything she is as Christ's Bride. It's not enough to share some basic, lowest-common-denominator Christian beliefs: to take Communion within a given ecclesial communion is sacramentally to "sign on the dotted line," accepting the same beliefs, submitting to the same governance, incorporating ("in-body-ing") oneself into that body of believers. "Whither thou goest, I shall go." That's what the Rite of Communion means from the ecclesiological vantage point. That's one of the many reasons why intercommunion is such an absurd thing: it's fundamentally dishonest. And, so, non-Catholics are not offered Holy Communion in the Catholic Church, because they are sadly no longer in communion with us. Nor can we receive communion in their congregations, even if we are invited, until such time that they re-enter communion with the Successor of Peter, who exercises the ministry of unity within Christ's Church.

"But we're all Christians," people sometimes object. Yes, and that's precisely why sectarianism and denominationalism is such an evil and tragic thing: every break in communion is a defiance of the oneness of Christ's Body, the Church. Splits, fragmentations, heresies, schisms, and spin-offs have been happening since the days of the New Testament, and the Church has been denouncing these breaks ever since, as contrary to the will of God. The Church yearns to be in communion with the whole world, for the whole world to answer "Amen" to her creed, for the whole world to submit to the authority of her keys, for the whole world to attend to the voice of the shepherd whom Christ has appointed to feed His sheep. But until that ecclesial communion occurs, sacramental communion will remain selective.

"We Are the Church Together"

Rev. Eric Lemonholm writes, in response to some things posted here a couple of weeks ago:

When I think of our congregation here on the Iron Range, with our friends in the Roman Catholic church a block away, and a Serbian Orthodox church down the road, it is incomprehensible to think that one of us is closer to God, more orthodox, more 'church' because of the hierarchical structure of which we are a part. That seems irrelevant to whether or not the gospel is preached and received in the local congregation. Such human structures aid in the preservation and passing on of the good news of Jesus Christ; they neither create it nor bind it. Nor is our Lutheran church any further away from the apostles than a Catholic or Greek Orthodox church, simply because we do not reside in their hierarchical structure. The Greek Orthodox Church has preserved much of the tradition of the early Greek church; the Roman Catholic Church has preserved much of the tradition of the Western Latin church. Both have rich, deep traditions of doctrine and piety. As a Lutheran, I have no problem recognizing them as brothers and sisters in Christ, as fellow churches; but the Holy Spirit is not bound to them. The questions for any congregation are: Is the good news proclaimed? Is the good news communicated in the waters of baptism, in the bread and wine of communion?

On a congregation-by-congregation basis, I see the point. But the allure for many of switching denoninations and hierarchical loyalties is, for many, an issue of moving from a denomination mired in doctrinal and ethical chaos and philosophical and ideological trendiness, to one whose hierarchies have structurally sounder and stronger safeguards. It seems that people who switch from, say, Episcopalian to Catholic do so precisely because they loved the Episcopal Church so much.

Father Brown Fakes the Shroud

Nathan Wilson's article on how to produce a photonegative on cloth is now on-line. An entertaining and informative read.

Culture and the Apocalypse

P. Andrew Sandlin:

[Bill Moyers] is correct, however, that dispensationalists believe Christians will be transported to Heaven before a time of horrid, environment-wrecking tribulation on the earth and its population.

Moyers’ main thrust is too close for comfort, though it troubles me to acknowledge this fact. Moyers is a secularist, bent on de-Christianizing culture; and as a cultural leader, he employs his electronic platform at PBS to hawk his ideological wares. Sadly, he has accurately observed that a consistent application of “pop” dispensational theology might lead one to care little for nature. After all, God intends to blow it all up, to ravage His world; so why care about the environment? Indeed, why not crave its destruction, believing that destruction to be a fulfilled divine prophecy? An eschatology (view of the future) that perceives massive discontinuities before Jesus’ Second Coming is vulnerable to such disregard for God’s creation. If it is predestined that the world and its environment will be ravaged before Jesus returns to end human history — and particularly if we are confident that this ravage will occur soon (the escalating “rapture index,” to which Moyers also referred) — why devote futile time to applying the Faith in the culture and working toward gradual, godly renewal not just in the environment but in education, music, science, politics and so on?

Despite this scenario, Moyers himself is an optimist. He writes: “I can see in the look on your faces just how had it is for the journalist to report a story like this with any credibility. So let me put it on a personal level. I myself don't know how to be in this world without expecting a confident future and getting up every morning to do what I can to bring it about. So I have always been an optimist.” Me might say that Moyers is something of a secular postmillennialist.

Brief Hiatus

Due to unexpected (not tragic) developments, I will be too busy to update this blog for at least a week. God bless everyone.