At the tender age of 16 (in accordance with school practice at the time) I completed a week's worth of Work Experience. My employer of choice was a veterinary surgeon located an arduous 5 minute walk from my place of residence. Being of a generally kindly disposition towards animals in general, I thought that the life of a vet would not be such a bad path. At the end of the week I took a rather different view. While it was undeniably a fun experience, my observations reluctantly led me to the conclusion that the life of a vet consisted of a neverending line of cats for desexing interspersed with having one's fingers savaged by disgruntled ferrets. On the plus side, I learned that vets can demand that their Experiencees bring them cake on Fridays.
As Bucer begins to address the tasks of the pastor of Christian souls he takes his lead from Ezekiel 34:16:
I will search for the lost and bring back the strays. I will bind up the injured and strengthen the weak, and the sleek and the strong I will watch over and shepherd with justice.
It appears, therefore, that despite my earlier reluctance I have been pressed into service as a sort of spiritual vet, caring for the flock of God in their various ailments and distresses. I am pleased to note, however, that castration is not a key task laid out by Scripture. Also, so far, cake has been plentiful.
Bucer then extemporises on the sheep who need particular attention and what the carer of souls should do for each.
The "lost sheep" are those who in truth belong to Christ but have yet to hear his voice. The pastor is therefore to preach the Word to all people so that they may hear and be compelled to join the flock. Bucer sets this down as a most urgent task to be taken to all people, no matter how corrupt a life they may lead. While conversions must never be forced, the proclaiming of Christ as Lord must be insistent so that the world may not doubt the urgency.
The "stray sheep" are those who have been part of God's flock but have "wandered off", no longer gathering with the Church. This may occur through the impact of false teaching or a general attachment to the world. In either case, the pastor is to deal with these like the lost sheep, urging them to return to their true shepherd. The pastor is not to simply "give up" because such a break in communion does not mean permanent apostasy. On the contrary, those who once knew Christ should be even more diligently urged to return to Him.
The "injured sheep" are those who remain in communion with other Christians but in their lives have fallen into open sin. Bucer devotes almost a third of his book to these particular sheep, a much larger section than any other, suggesting that he saw this as a difficult area that needed to be addressed carefully. He takes a view of the process of Repentance that many in our modern churches would find challenging. Of particular note is his insistence on the proper use of penance for those who have been involved in gross public sin. Where rebellion has been of such a nature as to fracture communion and cause dishonour to be brought on the name of Christ, Bucer states that it is insufficient for the reprobate to simply say, "I'm sorry, I won't do it again." Instead, he maintains that all those who are truly of Christ should submit gladly to the chastisement prescribed by pastors and rulers, including exclusion for a time from the Lord's Supper, not only so sin would be mortified in their own flesh but so that all would have assurance of the sincerity of the repentance and so the sinner would be able to be welcomed into fellowship again with confidence. In contrast to contemporary popular opinion, Bucer charges that a major failing of Rome was that it did not institute the practice of penance consistently, passing over them with indulgences and other ritualistic evasions.
Bucer is very committed to penance as a biblically mandated practice (displaying his Lutheran roots) in a way that seems a little draconian to modern readers. I can't make up my mind whether he is an Idealist or whether the stricter ministrations of the Reformers did indeed produce congregations who were more willing to submit to the chastisement of their elders. At a Ministry Development day within the last week a senior minister of a large local parish was reflecting on how difficult it is to bring modern Christians under any sort of discipline, as when issues of personal conduct are raised there is nothing stopping them from getting in a huff and taking their business elsewhere. Perhaps the approaching season of Lent is a good time to raise the subject of Christian discipline with our congregations. It is possible that a lax approach in modern times to self-discipline and examination has made communal discipline harder to accept. Thoughts?
Finally, the "weak sheep" are those who remain in the fellowship but have their commitment to Christ tested by the trials of the world or are inconsistent in the application of the Word to their daily lives. These sheep, states Bucer, require encouragement, having their attention drawn back to the grace of Christ to overcome the power of the world. Such sheep are not to be submitted to an inquisition of their faith, which would be discouraging, but should instead be led to submit more and more to the gracious Truth laid down in Scripture for their benefit.
Whew, some heavy stuff this week. The last post on Bucer coming soon...
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Bucer #3 - Who Does the Dirty Work?
One of the more interesting aspects of historical theology is having to deal with your subject's socio-cultural biases. This can be a little unnerving when you're not prepared for it. As I started reading the pastoral theology of Martin Bucer I believe I was guilty of treating him as a slightly eccentric contemporary. His language was a tad archaic, sure, but he was paying due care to his use of Scripture and it felt as though we were developing an understanding of each other. For the first 80 pages or so it felt like a book that could have been written yesterday...well, maybe not yesterday, but you get my point.
Then dear old Martin decided to make a quick handbrake turn. Actually, that feels as though I'm blaming him, when it was really me who should have remembered that he was writing in the early 16th Century and his views on the world might not be quite the same as mine...
Yes, it's that dear old chestnut "Church & State". Not surprisingly (given his context) Bucer is all for the Godly Prince giving a leg-up to the Church whenever they are having problems keeping their sheep in the pen [more on the pastoral analogies of sheep next week]. In fact, Bucer feels that it is the duty of the godly ruler to see that those who have professed faith in Christ, and have thus become members of the Church, are not lax in their duties and professions of faith. Not that Bucer wants to use state troops to force conversions; yet he does think that those who do 'belong' to the Church should be compelled (if necessary) to follow the Church's requirements and judgments. If the heathen rulers have used force in order to pressure Christian people into compromising their wholehearted devotion to Jesus, then why should not the godly ruler use the same force to ensure that the godly ends of the Church can be promoted? Bucer does not say how he can have confidence that all professions of faith will be genuine when a threat of state force exists. Nor does he outline the extent to which 'compulsion' may be taken by the godly ruler without compromising the Gospel.
I don't propose to do a full political deconstruction of Bucer's position - other blogs exist that deal much better with the socio-political impacts of the Gospel than I can. While I will probably always have a soft spot for the Godly Ruler Theory (Alfred The Great is a personal Christian Superhero) plenty of fine theologians (e.g. Haurwas, O'Donovan) have discussed the application of appropriate eschatology when defining the limits of State co-operation with Gospel work. Simply put, the message of the New Testament is, "Give the State what can reasonably be considered due. Do your best to live in peace with authorities. Take whatever 'rights' you can, but don't expect Government to give you special treatment." It's less than I would like, but then I occasionally get the urge to crush opponents like beetles.
These days evangelical Christians are more-or-less happy to have the State out of their hair. While I might be tempted to call up Constable Plod if too many of my flock skip church on Sunday, I know that there are good reasons why it should remain my problem. Of course, modern evangelicals have a lot of problems with direct confrontation. There are probably not a few pastors out there who wouldn't mind a few Hired Goons in a box marked "Break Glass In Case Of Emergency" in their office. It feels unnatural to get ecclesiastical hands dirty.
While cultural circumstances have changed dramatically in the last 400 years, I still think that I can take away some positive points from Bucer on congregational discipline. First, it is not ungodly for pastors to expect standards of their congregation. It's not only a matter of common curtesy but it is for the sake of everybody's spiritual health. Christian love dictates that we place others before ourselves, always being ready to serve. Those who are lax in this regard should be made to see the error of their ways in a loving way. Second, there is nothing inherently godly in 'beating about the bush'. Discipline matters should not be filtered through subordinates. This is an area in which the shepherd must Lead, even though the sheep may bite. Third, despite what Bucer may have thought, Christian discipline must not adopt the standards of the world wholesale. There can be a temptation in some modern pastoral books to treat Church administration and discipline along lines common in corporate culture. Our discipline needs to be much more gracious than this. It does not mean that we back off the seriousness, but doors for true repentence must always be left open.
Then dear old Martin decided to make a quick handbrake turn. Actually, that feels as though I'm blaming him, when it was really me who should have remembered that he was writing in the early 16th Century and his views on the world might not be quite the same as mine...
Yes, it's that dear old chestnut "Church & State". Not surprisingly (given his context) Bucer is all for the Godly Prince giving a leg-up to the Church whenever they are having problems keeping their sheep in the pen [more on the pastoral analogies of sheep next week]. In fact, Bucer feels that it is the duty of the godly ruler to see that those who have professed faith in Christ, and have thus become members of the Church, are not lax in their duties and professions of faith. Not that Bucer wants to use state troops to force conversions; yet he does think that those who do 'belong' to the Church should be compelled (if necessary) to follow the Church's requirements and judgments. If the heathen rulers have used force in order to pressure Christian people into compromising their wholehearted devotion to Jesus, then why should not the godly ruler use the same force to ensure that the godly ends of the Church can be promoted? Bucer does not say how he can have confidence that all professions of faith will be genuine when a threat of state force exists. Nor does he outline the extent to which 'compulsion' may be taken by the godly ruler without compromising the Gospel.
I don't propose to do a full political deconstruction of Bucer's position - other blogs exist that deal much better with the socio-political impacts of the Gospel than I can. While I will probably always have a soft spot for the Godly Ruler Theory (Alfred The Great is a personal Christian Superhero) plenty of fine theologians (e.g. Haurwas, O'Donovan) have discussed the application of appropriate eschatology when defining the limits of State co-operation with Gospel work. Simply put, the message of the New Testament is, "Give the State what can reasonably be considered due. Do your best to live in peace with authorities. Take whatever 'rights' you can, but don't expect Government to give you special treatment." It's less than I would like, but then I occasionally get the urge to crush opponents like beetles.
These days evangelical Christians are more-or-less happy to have the State out of their hair. While I might be tempted to call up Constable Plod if too many of my flock skip church on Sunday, I know that there are good reasons why it should remain my problem. Of course, modern evangelicals have a lot of problems with direct confrontation. There are probably not a few pastors out there who wouldn't mind a few Hired Goons in a box marked "Break Glass In Case Of Emergency" in their office. It feels unnatural to get ecclesiastical hands dirty.
While cultural circumstances have changed dramatically in the last 400 years, I still think that I can take away some positive points from Bucer on congregational discipline. First, it is not ungodly for pastors to expect standards of their congregation. It's not only a matter of common curtesy but it is for the sake of everybody's spiritual health. Christian love dictates that we place others before ourselves, always being ready to serve. Those who are lax in this regard should be made to see the error of their ways in a loving way. Second, there is nothing inherently godly in 'beating about the bush'. Discipline matters should not be filtered through subordinates. This is an area in which the shepherd must Lead, even though the sheep may bite. Third, despite what Bucer may have thought, Christian discipline must not adopt the standards of the world wholesale. There can be a temptation in some modern pastoral books to treat Church administration and discipline along lines common in corporate culture. Our discipline needs to be much more gracious than this. It does not mean that we back off the seriousness, but doors for true repentence must always be left open.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Bucer #2 - Character and Care
First up, my apologies for the lateness of this entry. The last week has been full of ordination-relating busyness which has distracted from the main task of ministry. Back in the harness now...
In his consideration of those who should be selected for the task of being elders and pastors of the congregations of Christ it is no surprise that Bucer draws heavily from the New Testament examples and the instructions in the pastoral letters. For me it sounded all too familiar. Over the last three years I have had my own personal character and godliness carefully observed by many people. Interviews have been conducted and forms have been submitted in a long process culminating in yesterday when I stood in front of several bishops who laid hands on me and gave me a Bible to be used in a lifetime of Christian service. For the church in Bucer's time and in ours similar concerns for the right example of the pastor for the flock are paramount. What is interesting in Bucer's work on this point is not content but style.
As Bucer constructs his pastoral framework it is remarkable how the personal life of the pastor flows naturally out of the active headship of Jesus that he established earlier and then into the task of caring for the sheep that he will expound next. He writes in such a way that it is almost impossible to see the seam in his stitching. The effect is in the end an encouragement not to compartmentalise too strongly the character and care of the pastor as resulting from the rule of Christ. Both the preparation of the pastor in their godliness of life and the tasks which have been set out are an expression of divine preservation and predestination. Sometimes I am tempted to categorise what I have before me in terms of My Job and Jesus' Job. It's true that we can't collapse them, but neither should they lead to competition or confusion. Bucer definitely takes the personal life of the pastor as integrated into the bigger picture of Christs' rule over His own flock, not an activity that occurs outside of His headship.
In his consideration of those who should be selected for the task of being elders and pastors of the congregations of Christ it is no surprise that Bucer draws heavily from the New Testament examples and the instructions in the pastoral letters. For me it sounded all too familiar. Over the last three years I have had my own personal character and godliness carefully observed by many people. Interviews have been conducted and forms have been submitted in a long process culminating in yesterday when I stood in front of several bishops who laid hands on me and gave me a Bible to be used in a lifetime of Christian service. For the church in Bucer's time and in ours similar concerns for the right example of the pastor for the flock are paramount. What is interesting in Bucer's work on this point is not content but style.
As Bucer constructs his pastoral framework it is remarkable how the personal life of the pastor flows naturally out of the active headship of Jesus that he established earlier and then into the task of caring for the sheep that he will expound next. He writes in such a way that it is almost impossible to see the seam in his stitching. The effect is in the end an encouragement not to compartmentalise too strongly the character and care of the pastor as resulting from the rule of Christ. Both the preparation of the pastor in their godliness of life and the tasks which have been set out are an expression of divine preservation and predestination. Sometimes I am tempted to categorise what I have before me in terms of My Job and Jesus' Job. It's true that we can't collapse them, but neither should they lead to competition or confusion. Bucer definitely takes the personal life of the pastor as integrated into the bigger picture of Christs' rule over His own flock, not an activity that occurs outside of His headship.
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