Pink Floyd, Ignatius of Antioch, and the Power of Prayer

It appears that Roger Waters is about to bring his recent production of The Wall to Australian shores after successful tours around America and Europe. Despite the overwhelming commercial success of Dark Side Of The Moon, it is The Wall that is closest to Waters' heart and the work that embodies his philosophical and artistic vision. This fact alone should alert the world to the fact that the composer/author may be more than a little sociopathic with shades of paranoia. If you need confirmation, go ask David Gilmour.

However, the truth is that The Wall is more than Waters' dream. It is also the soul-cry of the Baby Boomer Generation as it is hounded by its twin fears of Economic Depression and World War. In the story a young man, Pink, suffering from the loss of his father in war and the harsh austerity of English society, attempts to find fulfilment through rock music. As his star rises he finds his isolation growing, represented by a huge wall that separates musicians from audience. Finally, Pink lashes out at his situation and breaks down the wall, but the truth is that this is a Utopia Moment. Destroying the social disconnection means surrendering significant personal power, something which is anathema to Waters and his generational contemporaries. This is evident also in the spiritual choices of that generation and those subsequent - conformity to traditional structures is forsaken in favour of "my own path to God". Despite the often fair criticisms of traditional religion, it is clear that Western culture continues to drift even further away from God and true community. The Wall remains standing...

My own studies have led me to read the letters of Ignatius of Antioch, a controversial figure from the late 1st Century AD. Some have seen in his writings evidence of a firm ecclesiastical hierarchy with the presence of an aposotolically appointed bishop as the safeguard of Christian unity. It is true that Ignatius had a very tidy mind when it came to church polity and wanted proper respect shown to those placed in positions of authority. Those who see the seeds of a One-Denomination-For-All-The-World position equated with that of the early church I believe misread Ignatius' intention, which could be accurately summarised as, "Hey, fellow Christians in yonder city! I've met your bishop and a bunch of your presbyters and deacons and they are Most Righteous Dudes! They believe in the Gospel of Jesus, so a really good thing to do is to be united with them and listen to their teaching. Don't chuck away God's blessing by trying to start your own thing on the side - that's like giving a free kick to the False Teachers who have been causing so much trouble lately."

The real kicker for me was a comment Ignatius made regarding unity and prayer:

Let no man deceive himself: if any one be not within the altar, he is deprived of the bread of God. For if the prayer of one or two possesses such power, how much more that of the bishop and the whole church! He, therefore, that does not assemble with the Church, has even by this manifested his pride, and condemned himself. (Ep. Eph. V.)

Now, Ignatius is not saying that the bishop is a Prayer Signal Booster who gives group prayers more power to be received by God or get to the front of the cue. His contention is that if the whole of the church is united with godly leaders in petition to God then there is a certain "spiritual weight" that exceeds that of those who willfully abstain from proper communion (even if they have not yet succumbed to heresy). Prayer has power when God's people speak with one voice.

This had me thinking about the resources that are available for our communal prayers that often get under-utilized. Prayer diaries are available not only diocesan leaders but also our key mission organizations at home and abroad. Often these resources are treated as "a good source of ideas" for those composing our weekly prayers but with no compulsion to use. Yet would it not be a significant step if our weekly communal prayers were more coordinated, whether at a regional or diocesan level? Obviously, our ecclesiastical structures are much more complex than they were in the 1st Century and we must beware of applying Ignatius' advice inappropriately. But I believe that it would give our congregations encouragement (not even mentioning the added power to prayer) if they knew that there were things every week that there were things that all the other congregations in their mission area/region/diocese were also praying for, particularly if those responsible for leading these structures had made unity of prayer a priority. At significant moments or times of crisis when our leaders have called for unity of prayer I have found our congregations more than happy to respond. How good it would be if this pattern were the norm rather than the exception.

Chrysostom #1 - A Priesthood of Love

There was an opening line of a song (the composer of which escapes me) that ran, "It's not where you start, it's where you finish." No doubt true for the corporate capitalist or those foolish people who enjoy long-distance running. Yet for pastoral theology the reverse is usually true. This is because it is often abundantly clear what a truly godly minister looks like, if for no other reason than we have the testimony of Scripture (e.g. Titus 1) to guide us. So the pastoral theologian can see his goal in the distance before he begins his journey. Yet there is the question as to where to place the first step. In my reading over the last few months I have been challenged by the writers of other ages as how to approach the task of pastoral ministry. Yet the biggest difference has not been in the practical advice but in the theoretical foundations of ministry. For Bucer, the orders of ministry were how God exercised his Rule. Herbert, on the other hand, preferred the concept of Order, so in all things the minister must act in an orderly fashion to make God's Word clear and so God's Will can be seen to be done. For Chrysostom, ministry is about Love. Chrysostom's first major theological work, On the Priesthood, is really a public apologia for past behaviour. Briefly, Chrysostom had formed a solemn pact with his good friend Basil on hearing that the local church was planning to elevate them to episcopal office. They swore that either they would both accept the wishes of the nominators or they would both refuse. However Chrysostom, in a case of duplicity that would be frowned upon most heavily in our current age, placed Basil in the position of being forced to accept ordination while refusing it himself. Basil was crushed by his friend's betrayal, but Chrysostom insisted that he had acted for the best because it meant that the church had gained a most godly servant while doubting that he himself could not accept the burdens of office. What follows is a rhetorical dialogue between the two men where Chrysostom outlines his vision of what the truly godly minister should be like. After outlining his perception of the events (I.6-8) Chrysostom begins his treatise proper with the thesis that the priesthood was instituted by Christ as an act of love for the church. Peter's threefold declaration of love for Christ (Jn 21:13-17) cannot be understood outside of Jesus' command for Peter to fulfil that love by faithfully feeding the lambs that are being left in his care. While the sheep desire to be fed by the True Shepherd, it is an expression of divine love that they are fed by those in whose care they have been left (II.1-2). Those given then role of priest to the flock are to be those who are so consumed with a love for Jesus that they will tend them faithfully even in the midst of trial and persecution. It is because Chrysostom perceives Basil's love as being so much greater than his own that he felt justified not only in his refusal of ordination but of his tricking his most dear friend so that the church should not lose such a worthy man on account of Chrysostom's unworthiness. Book III concentrates on the temptations and pressures that will undoubtedly fall on those with ministerial responsibility. Vanity (III.1-12), the attacks of the enemies of God (III.13-15) and the stress of caring for widows and virgins (III.16). Chrysostom's point is not to over-spiritualise the priesthood (though some of his comments on the sacraments might seem that way if taken in isolation). Rather, he is being realistic in evaluating the stresses that ordained ministry places on the individual to impress the fact that only those who are truly motivated by Love can hope to exercise this ministry without being crushed by the strain. Before any consideration of the practicalities of ministry come into play the foundation must be set according to the priorities of God. I was surprised by my reading of Chrysostom. Perhaps I shouldn't have been, given his reputation both as a theological communicator and perhaps one of the greatest servants the Church has ever had. His advocating of Love was refreshing, even if I may not be completely on board with his methods of promoting ordination.