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.