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.

Bucer #5 - Constant Vigilence

These past few months have seen me attempting to come to grips with the reality of maintaining a garden. A brief flick through a horticultural magazine might lead you to believe that perfect lawns and flower beds can be maintained with the greatest of ease. A simple stroll through the garden once a day to assure yourself that everything is going well, stopping occasionally to pull out the odd weed, is all that is necessary.

Utter bollocks!

As I have been finding out, gardening is heartbreaking and backbreaking work. Lawns need constant mowing, soil needs digging and fertilizing, plants watering, and so forth. And even after all that, your plants may wither and die due to an unexpected heatwave. Rewarding labour, undoubtedly. But the true horticulturalist has precious little time to 'stop and smell the roses'. Gardens don't look after themselves.

Neither do sheep, according to our old chum Martin Bucer. You would be forgiven for thinking, following the last two weeks, that a pastor's duties are restricted to putting out forest fires wherever they might break out in the congregation. Yet, strangely, those whom Bucer designates as the "strong and healthy sheep" need as much attention as the rest. For, if the shepherd is caught unawares, mangy or false sheep might infiltrate and infect the flock. So even those whose faith seems as solid as a rock need care and attention to prevent them from falling under evil influences. Shepherds take the She'll Be Right approach at their peril.

So often in ministry we'll draw up the Archery Target diagram of church growth. You know the one - Gospel Partners in the centre, Members in the next level out, Attenders after that, and so on. The theory is that you need to move everyone one level closer inwards to build up the number of Partners at your disposal to help run your ministry programs and outreach. What they often fail to tell you is that those in the middle won't stay there unless you protect them. So the Gospel-Minded Minister might focus all his attention on seeking the Lost or Wounded in the belief that he has a secure communal base who have "got his back". Then the wolves get in and destroy the flock and everything falls in a heap.

This last section of Bucer has challenged me to remain attentive to those whom I would have otherwise have classified as Able To Look After Themselves. I shouldn't have been surprised; I have seen too many close friends fall away from what seemed like secure positions. I need to not take my Partners for granted. God has given me them to care for as much as those on the Outskirts. Once more, my arrogance comes in for a severe rebuke.

Summing up, I think Martin Bucer's book has been one of the most helpful books on pastoral care that I have read. It is not an exhaustive theological examination, but rather a practical handbook for those considering the shape and priorities of gospel ministry. As such, some of his points are able to be quibbled over, but there is no doubt that at the centre is a reliance on the Biblical patterns for ministry and a desire to apply them afresh for a church in Rebirth mode. I have made extensive use of it in preparing studies for my Youth Ministry Leaders and I will undoubtedly return to it again in the future.

Next up: George Herbert!

Bucer #4 - The Pastor as Agricultural Vet

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...

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.

Bucer #1 - Christ In Charge

Martin Bucer produced his handbook on pastoral theology, Concerning the True Care of Souls, in 1538, noting the contemporary 'Deplorable and Pernicious Sate of Religious Schism and Disorder' and expressing a desire to 'Return to True Unity and Good Christian Order in the Churches'. In other words, the contemporary church was in a Right Old Mess due primarily, as Bucer saw it, of a lack of a clear understanding as to who was to have authority (if at all) over the church.

On the one hand, the government of the traditional church in Rome accused the Reformers (or Lutherans) of overthrowing an ecclesiastical order established by God by their insistence that Scripture Alone should the guide of true faith and, as such, had separated themselves from the true Body of Christ. Alternatively, certain sects of the Radical Reformation criticised those leaders of church reform who wished to hold onto any ordered system of church government, stating that since the Gospel called individuals to a personal faith and repentence it would be inappropriate to place any human constraints on the expression of such a personal faith. Bucer himself denounces both positions, making it clear that he was neither a slave to tradition or a minimalist. He believed that Scripture clearly taught the need for ministers to be set apart for the good order of the gathering of believers in particular places. But what exactly was their role to be?

The early chapters of Bucer's work are devoted to constructing an ecclesiology in which the temporal Church is under the direct and personal rule of the resurrected Christ. Those who have been set aside for leadership of the community of faith (whether in the areas of instruction in the Word or the service of good works) must not assume for themselves what rightly belongs to Him. Either an over- or under-developed ecclesiology will ultimately fall into this error. In Bucer's mind Jesus is not absent or distant from our communal life, but is personally and actively involved in our church governance through those whom the Spirit has set apart. The issue, naturally, is that because Jesus is spiritually rather than bodily present in our gatherings and sacraments that the temptation arises for us to either a) rule in His absence, or b) deny His claims of authority. It also prompts the temptation for church rulers to claim credit for what Christ is actively accomplishing in the life of His Church. However:

All power and the whole work in this matter belong to Christ our dear Lord; but ministers are his instruments, through whom he effects and fulfils this work of his in his elect. (chapter 3)

This is a sobering thought, particularly when we consider the many aspects of our contemporary church culture on which the Scriptures are silent (home groups, online evangelism, etc). In ways that both the Apostles and Reformers could never have forseen the Word of God continues to go out into the world and new ministers are raised up. Yet we here in the 21st Century should have confidence that where His people are gathered Christ rules not mystically but through the (mostly unlikely) people that He has chosen.

Choosing My Own Adventure

For all those who feared I had been a victim of Spontaneous Combustion or had fled to Mongolia in fear of debt collectors...I'm Baaaaack! Well, not really. Things are different now. New house. New furniture. New community. New responsibilities...

Aye, there's the rub. No longer a carefree student of theological matters where those with higher qualifications than mine prescribed suitable reading material for my fertile brain in the manner of an apothecary handing over a bag of leeches. The temptation is to rest on the laurels accumulated over the last four years, looking down like Mister Toad on the grand old men of Oxford. However, since it is quite clear that I do not know all there is to be knowed, an alternative must be found.

Now that I have officially started my ministry in the Anglican parish of Rosemeadow/Appin, a question is presented for which theological education in no way prepares you:

What on earth do I do now???

Tasks will present themselves, naturally. In fact, following the first staff meeting of the year, it is clear that a new minister's diary fills itself quicker than a pub on Grand Final day. But to define the role of ministry simply by Stuff To Do can produce all sorts of confusion. It is clear that I need guidance as to how my new role should be defined.

Over the last 20 years books on ecclesiology and ministry strategy have been all the rage. We can put this down to the phenomenal growth of modern Pentecostalism, those For and Against the Emergent Church movement, and a shift in leadership priorities as the Baby Boomers begin shuffling out of the boardrooms and into luxurious motor accommodation vehicles purchased with a lifetime of accumulated capital gains they are determined their children shall never inherit. As helpful an relevant as many of these books are, I have decided to start at the beginning.

As a Reformed Evangelical Anglican I thought it best to take a careful look at some of the texts that have shaped my heritage. So, over the next few months, my plan is to read through three classic works of pastoral theology and post weekly reflections here. While there are many texts that could have been chosen, I have selected Martin Bucer's Concerning the True Care of Souls, George Herbert's The Country Parson, and Richard Baxter's The Reformed Pastor. These works cover the development of modern pastoral thought in the 16th and 17th centuries by a Reformer, Middle Anglican, and Puritan. While I have dipped into all these books in the past, I believe that my new role at the coalface will give me a new perspective and I will find new gems to unearth.

As I begin this task I am aware that the works I have chosen are far from perfect. While at one time Herbert would have been handed to every ordination candidate at their seminary enrollment, in recent years he has copped a stiff (and, to my mind, slightly unfair) backlash from English Evangelicals. I should also confess that, despite the many sound theological insights that it produced, I am not entirely convinced of the good influence of Puritanism on the English Church. That said, my intentions are to read these works both critically and sympathetically, taking note of how they use the Scriptures to support their positions.

Those expecting a careful summary of the material will be disappointed. I shall instead be focusing on salient/interesting/unique/dodgy points that are thrown up and how ministry in the modern context can learn from those who have gone before us.

Expect the first reflections on Bucer to arrive soon...

Of History and Financial Crises

Just recently I finished reading Marcus Loane's Centenary History of Moore College. As a piece of local history published over 50 years ago it makes a challenging read for modern eyes. To call it a 'gripping read' would be an overstatement. To be fair, as a history of the College rather than the personalities involved, there is only much juicy gossip that can be crowbarred in. That said, Loane's dry humour pops up occasionally if you are willing to persevere The focus of the work is really on how the College managed to persevere with the task of preaching the Gospel in the midst of the shaping of a nation. As a result finances play a large part in the book. It gives the feeling occasionally that you are reading a collection of someone else's payslips.

This year Moore College has been hit by the full force of the GFC. While there may be legitimate grumblings about loss of bookshop discounts and no more seconds at lunch, the real impact is at the human level as several beloved staff have been unable to be maintained. So, I thought I would share what Marcus Loane has taught me about the Financial Crisis:

1) God is bigger than Money. For those who imagine that the College has always been a place of financial security and diocesan stability, think again. For most of its history MTC has been a brass farthing away from being skint. There were many times when it seemed as if the great work of the College was about to be swept away because of financial pressures only to be graciously given a lifeline. While this tells me a lot about the providence of God it also tells me that building the Kingdom can weather the seas of Fiscal Uncertainty.

2) Institutions are smaller than People. Sounds counterintuitive given that we are talking about a moderately large College with a distinguished history. However, it appeared to me on reading Loane's account that those who led the College in the past (whatever their theological leanings) put the welfare and education of the students rather than the reputation of the institution as their paramount goal. Similarly, those students who attended did so not because of prestige but because a commitment to a high quality of theological education in order to serve God through ministry to His people. Buildings and Councils and Mottoes have value not in and of themselves but because of the people to which they testify. Christ did not die for a College but for those who fill it and the ones they serve.

3) The Kingdom is bigger than a College. Moore College was not the first nor last Church of England theological education institution set up in Australia. Many others were born, prospered for a time, and died under God's hand. We must never forget that this College stands in exactly the same situation. Because we thrive today does not mean we will so tomorrow. In a generation Moore Theological College could be no more. I definitely do not want that to happen, but I think that if I have trust in the Lord rather than Man I have to be OK with that. Sometimes I hear the view that the end of the College would mean the end of Evangelical faith in Sydney. It would be a hard blow, that much is certain, and one I think we must all work hard to prevent. Yet the Word will endure until Christ returns. If it is not preached and taught in this place it will be somewhere else. With everything that has happened in the last 2000 years the fate of one local College is small in the plans of God. Still, I believe that His Love rests upon this place and all who study and teach here and I thank God for the blessings which I have personally received here.

OK, now I must show my commitment to the dying embers of my theological education by going to class! In the words of Bill & Ted: Be Excellent to each other!