Reformed Romantics: a few thoughts

I have now reached the age where wedding invitations have slowed to a trickle. This is a great comfort to me. I am now spared from a succession of steamy afternoons in non-airconditioned sandstone monstrosities while a pair of dear friends plight their eternal troth, not to mention the neverending argument with She Who Must Be Obeyed as to whether it is important to "like" the purchased wedding present. [I am of the opinion that the first item that can be located on the register that is within budget is the ideal present. I don't care what it looks like or what it does - if the Happy Couple put it on there then they will be overjoyed to receive it. Let all the Men say 'Aye'!] My present occupation also means that I am now more likely to be conducting a wedding service than having to stay awake through one. The demographics of my faith community peers (mostly in their early 30s) means that most of them have paired up now anyway.

Except for those who haven't.

I am friends with a number of single Christian men and women whose youth (like mine) is slowly fading. They are, almost without exception, godly and kind people. For some their singleness (note: I hate that word but have yet to come up with a better one) is a peripheral fact of life. For others it is a crushing burden that impairs their natural Christian joy. These people are not selfish or immature or "unwilling to settle". The door to romance has simple not been opened to them up to this point.

The advice given out to the unmarried in our Christian circles is often very unhelpful, and I believe this stems from a lack of sufficiently theological reflection on the place of marriage. Several years ago I sat in a Men's Hour led by a pastor whom I greatly respect. His advice to the young men was that they had no excuse not to get married as there were more women than men numerically in the church, so if they didn't find a husband there then they would be tempted to seek an unbeliever who would most likely lead them away from faith. The implication of this, of course, was that if any single women fell away under this shepherd's leadership then it wasn't really his fault but was instead the fault of the young men for not "snapping her up quick enough". I had thought that this sort of advice was no longer given, until I heard it being basically repeated by another pastor I greatly respect several weeks ago.

Over the last few years I have been reflecting that perhaps some of the pain being felt by single Christians today is a result of a dysfunction in our overall view of what Christian marriage could and should be. In my final year at Moore College I did a theology paper on Marriage & Children in response to the rise of the Quiverfull and Childfree Christianity movements. As I did my research I came to the conclusion that much of the "Christian" view on marriage is not much more than natural theology blended with Anglo-middle-class morality. Even in solidly evangelical works such as those by Christopher Ash the theological focus is firmly on Genesis 1-3. Almost nothing is said about the deeply familial language of trinitarian relationships, not to mention the radical re-evaluation of our social patterns that the Cross of Christ must bring. In light of this, it is not surprising that the messages of encouragement in the chapters on Singleness in many books rings resoundingly hollow.

I believe that we need to start again. We need to take a fresh look at how the Gospel should shape our patterns of love, marriage, family, and children so that the Christian pattern of living is transformative rather than conformative. It will mean rethinking how we order our public gatherings, how we structure our youth and children's ministries to be informed by these principles. It will mean repenting of hopes that were never meant to be and of finding joy where we never thought possible for it to be found.

I'm planning on writing these posts as I go. While I have done some work on this area in the past, there is a lot which I have not yet thought about. I'm hoping that as I put some of my ideas out there that many of my readers (whether married or single) may challenge me on my exegesis and interpretation.

Hebrews 10:25 and Confidence In Christ

If you had to pick the Top Christian Guilt Trip Verse, I reckon Hebrews 10:25 would at least make the short list. Beloved of pastors and Bible Study Leaders everywhere, this verse is likely to appear in any conversation that begins with the words, "Soooo...where were you last Sunday?"

Any absence from regular fellowship can be elegantly dealt with by appealing to this remarkable proof-text. The wayward sheep will be rebuked by the plain words of Scripture and will (hopefully) return to an acceptable attendance pattern.

But to what exact situation does Hebrews 10:25 refer? What is the cessation in meeting that the writer is warning his readers against? Can this verse be used as a catch-all for the spiritually slack?

In his very thorough commentary Peter O'Brien admits that the exact circumstances of those who have ceased fellowship are not clear, though the fact that the writer has raised the "falling away" issue several times previously (and will do so again later) shows that apostasy was likely to have been a pressing concern for the Jewish-Christian receivers of the letter. O'Brien suggests factors such as persecution, indifference or apathy can be broadly implied from the text. While these issues probably played a role in halting regular meeting, I am of the opinion that the most important issue for these apostates was a lack of Confidence In Christ.

The stress on Jesus as the New and Better High Priest in Hebrews is hard to ignore. In fact, once the writer has reminded the Jewish Christians of the basics of belief, chapters 5-10 are devoted almost exclusively to this issue. A viable scenario is that a lack of a cultic system or priesthood in this new Christian movement would have given those believers of a Jewish background a certain amount of unease. For centuries the descendants of Abraham had relied on a Levitical priesthood to intercede with God on their behalf. The ceremonies and duties were strict - a failure to follow them correctly would have resulted in a break in fellowship with God. Now these Christians seem to have done away with all of the ritual rigmarole - no priests, no sacrifices, no incense, no ritual washings. Was God going to accept this as proper worship? Was the holiness of the Creator being denied? Maybe it would be better if we left these Christians to their hymns and prayers and brought a nice lamb to the Temple Priest to make sure God is going to accept us...

As I have been leading my weekly Bible studies on Hebrews, it occurs to me that the advocation of Jesus as the new High Priest in the order of Melchizedek appears to have been for the sake of restoring confidence to those Christians who were struggling with the lack of cultic practices. It was hard to believe, given the strict nature of the Mosaic regulations, that God could be happy with simply Faith Alone. There would have been many who were Just Not Sure, and so they needed reassurance.

What does this have to do with the use of 10:25 in our age? Well, I believe that this verse is not the Rebuke To The Self-Indulgent that it so often becomes. Instead it is the reassurance to those whose confidence in Christ is wavering, for those who feel burdened with sin, and those who feel that God does not hear their prayers.

I have been challenged in the last few days by Scripture to be very careful as to how I use Hebrews 10:25 pastorally from now on. Don't get me wrong - if someone isn't at church for no better reason than they went to see the Tigers lose again then they should definitely receive a boot in the backside. I'll just use other verses of Scripture to do it and instead save Hebrews 10:25 for the person who needs their confidence in Christ reaffirmed.

Evangelical Software, Anglican Hardware

Despite an already full calendar of local conferences/workshops/events, A Fresh Look At Mission took place in the centre of Sydney last Friday. Despite my aversion to large gatherings of Christians in a single locale I was sorry that I was unable to attend (factors of distance and having spent a lot of time recently out of the office swayed my decision). From what I have heard it was a very productive time for all concerned and I hope there will be further events as the topics covered seemed well worthy of attention.

What struck me as I read a report of the day was the content of the talk given by my beloved former teacher Dr Michael Jensen, who noted the reluctance of many young evangelical students to embrace Anglicanism as a way of expressing their theological convictions [note: as I was not at the talk I am relying on the accuracy of the above link and I hope not to misrepresent Dr Jensen in any way]. Jensen's argument appeared to run that all evangelical convictions must ultimately be expressed in some kind of ecclesiology. He likened the relationship to one of computer software and hardware (a subject I know next to nothing about). If evangelicalism is the "software", then Anglicanism is not only an appropriate but the best "hardware" on which to run the program. Jensen suggested that Anglican ministers should be more proactive at selling the "hardware" to young entrepreneurial evangelists and church-planters eager to win people for Christ.

I agree. I am an Anglican not by accident but by conviction. I walked into an Anglican church at the age of 17 mostly based on the fact that people I knew would be there. At various points I chose to stay because I believe the Anglican Church provides an appropriate framework in which to witness to the historic Christian faith. I could have changed denominations at several points but preferred not to.

However, I have an important question (that perhaps someone who attended the conference can answer): what exactly is the "Anglican hardware" that we should be promoting?

Sydney Anglicanism has always been a bit of a strange beast. A bit like old Uncle Neville at the family Christmas lunch, who is intent on keeping the seasonal traditions alive while wearing his trousers back-to-front. Good motives always, but sometimes lacking in the execution. Even our evangelical friends find us a bit tiresome occasionally. But about 30 years ago things really started going off the rails and many of our Anglican distinctives were chucked in favour of being more "culturally relevant". If Dr Jensen thinks we should dig some of these out of the cupboard, then let's go! But which ones, exactly? And to what extent?

Many will point to the 39 Articles or the teachings about the nature of church set out in the Ordinal. But these cannot be properly regarded as "hardware" - they are more like the Operating Instructions (ignore at Your Own Risk). Other Anglican distinctives exist, but at the present time they are subject to either indifference or outright hostility by both clergy and laity. Here are some of the typical Sydney attitudes towards Anglican "hardware" that I have observed:

Prayerbooks - Stable door open, horse bolted. Last attempt failed. Try again if you really must.

Buildings - A pain in the neck. Spend as little as possible. Or meet in school halls. Sacred space is a myth. [Note: This does not apply if you happen to be a "strategic" church which mysteriously burns down. In that case, spend whatever you want!]

Sacraments - Feel free to depart from mainstream Evangelical view on administration if your conscience allows. "Baptism-lite" option now available.

Robes - To be worn at ordination and at the funerals of Archbishops.

Bishops - They take up resources that could be used for practical ministry. If you want one, make sure they can pay their own way.

Worldwide Communion - Never gonna happen...

So, what's left in the "hardware" box? Have I missed something? Is any of the above reclaimable? What did we chuck that we should not have?

Baxter #4 - Teach Your Children (and Adults) Well

One of the great Australian memoirs of the 20th Century was Robin Dalton's Aunts Up The Cross. In it Dalton recalls her eccentric upbringing in bohemian Kings Cross in the years leading up to World War II. Her house was filled with an assortment of genteel relatives in reduced circumstances, including a great-aunt who would wear a fox-fur cape and sunglasses to bed. Dalton recalls her mother as a woman imbibed with the Australian love of gambling in all forms, in particular horse racing and Bridge. Despite her mother's passion for cards, Dalton herself never learned to play Bridge as she was often told (directly or otherwise) that playing bad Bridge was in such poor taste as to border on a sin. It was easier for her never to learn, a move which reveals that despite the obvious bond between mother and daughter that permeates the narrative there was no plan to pass on this particular family passion in a relevant and non-threatening way.

In the second half of The Reformed Pastor, Baxter turns his attention to the task of catechesis. He is of the opinion that, despite the many advances that the English Church had taken over the previous century, the laity were still woefully ignorant of the most basic aspects of the Christian Faith. Worse still, when questions of faith did arise they were generally unwilling to go to their local ministers to have their minds set at rest. Baxter has already stated that he felt that the clergy were generally well equipped to answer such questions and indeed had rejoiced at the fact that the standard of ministers in the realm was so high. Preaching from the pulpit had proved not to be effective at combating general ignorance. Therefore, Baxter contends that a primary responsibility of the clergy should be the active education of those under his care in the fundamentals of the Christian faith. It is not enough to assume that they will pick up knowledge by osmosis or private study.

Baxter proposes that each minister have a plan to visit his sheep in turn, to enquire as to their spiritual health and knowledge, and to instruct them privately on any points on which they are confused or ignorant. While not wishing to detract at all from the ministry of the pulpit, he feels that this must be complemented by private instruction if it is to have the most profitable impact. He rightly discerns that during sermons the preacher cannot pace his message to suit all people equally, and so many will either get left behind or become distracted during the message. However, in private consultation, the minister can open the Scriptures and repeat his points carefully to make sure the individual understands what is being taught and can have opportunities for questions or objections. In such a way the individual is matured in their faith and comes to know that the minister is as much a private instructor as a public orator, making it more likely that the minister will be consulted on matters of faith and doctrine again in the future. Such a ministry breaks down the barriers between clergy and laity, gives general confidence to what is being taught, and will head off superstitions or heresy.

Over the last several days I attended a ministry conference where congregation retention across demographics was discussed in the context of the diocesan plan for church growth. It struck me that while our evangelism strategies (and implementation) could always be better, our greatest problem is not one of evangelism but of catechesis, particularly in our youth ministry. NCLS figures show that we have no problem in attracting numbers to our children and youth ministries, but there tends to be a dramatic drop in adolescence and early adulthood. I believe this results from a glitch in our thinking with which Baxter can assist. Much effort is given to strategies for running programs, events, and pastoral strategies for youth. Little is given to catechesis, despite its strong avocation by generations of evangelicals.

I am aware that this issue has been addressed before, but I am adding my voice to the chorus. We need to get serious about instructing our youth in the apostolic and catholic faith. It is inexcusable if we are in the situation of asking our senior youth what a Sacrament is or what the Creeds teach and get only blank looks in reply. As far as I am aware there are not any local diocesan resources for instructing our youth in preparation for Confirmation. On that note, when exactly did Confirmation become an Optional Extra? We need to start younger and do better!

Baxter #3 - Humility Through Introspection

A criticism frequently levelled at the Puritans is that a tendency towards introspection led to misapplication of perfectly good theological principles. Perhaps they were the Gen X of the 17th Century. I could imagine John Owen or Richard Sibbes gently weeping into their small beer as they contemplated the profundity of the latest offerings by The Pixies or Mudhoney on their Ye Olde Walkmans. Then again, maybe I can't...

Yet, to be absolutely fair, the aim of Puritan theology was never navel gazing, but an honest examination of their souls in order to discover how they might serve God with more openness and honesty than was usually the case. Such indeed was the aim of Baxter in Chapter 3 of The Reformed Pastor.

At first I wondered as to whether some of this material would have been better united with Chapter 1. Certainly, much similar ground is covered. Yet here Baxter goes deeper than just common fault-finding. His aim is to uncover the sources of ecclesiastical rot, which must be located in the sinful soul.

The first problem to be dealt with is Pride. Because of Pride ministers fail to take care of those of their flock in most need of God's love, reserving their services for a Better Class Of Sinner. Pride is also responsible for a tender conscience, giving ministers an over-sensitivity that makes it difficult for them to accept (or others to give) fair criticism. Once again, I believe that Baxter and Chrysostom are approaching the same problem from different angles. While Chrysostom believes that evidence of vanity should exclude the unworthy from the priesthood, Baxter believes that all ministers should examine their motives and eliminate the vanity they find as much as possible. Baxter is positive that, with help from the Holy Spirit, improvement can be achieved. Chrysostom appears to hold character as set in stone. Although, as Dr. Phil says, past behaviour is a good predictor of future behaviour.

The second sin in Baxter's sights is Sloth (or, as he puts it, neglect of pastoral duties). Baxter has no time for those who, having accepted the Lord's challenge to put their shoulder to the wheel, find the work tiresome or not to their taste. How appropriate is this message in the modern age, when distractions assault even the most faithful Gospel worker! Baxter urges all ministers to devote themselves not only to serious study but also to the improvement of their preaching. He desires all to be earnest in their proclamation so that many might be moved to repentance. I think that earnestness is a preaching trait not seen as much as it should.

Also up for criticism is the factionalism of church politics. Baxter acknowledges that alliances and disagreements will be a natural part of any institution. However, he has strong words for those devotion to Sect over Saviour leads to unnecessary division, upsetting the Christian desire for peace. I am aware that Anglicans in Sydney have a reputation for loving a theological scrap, but in my association with many ministers I have rarely found this to be the case. Most would prefer cooperation to be the order of the day, but when faced with serious gospel challenges will not allow the message of Jesus to be compromised. As one of my revered teachers puts it, at least in Sydney matters are out in the open and discussed freely instead of being concentrated in shadowy cliques that include only the few.

Lastly, it is gratifying to see (in answer to some of my concerns of last week) that Baxter does not eliminate the issue of church discipline altogether, but instead gives it some attention in this chapter. On the positive side, he thinks that it is not given sufficient importance by pastors, going so far as to say that a minister who neglects discipline in his parish is just as bad as one who neglects poor preaching. On the negative, Baxter does not go into sufficient detail as to what a church with a healthy discipline system should look like. Perhaps his introspection up to this point makes it difficult for him to deal in tangibles.

I think it would be impossible for any minister to read this chapter of Baxter's work and not have their conscience stung in at least one tender place. These are the words of an experienced pastor who has seen it all before and had his heart broken as a result. While Baxter's list of sins is not comprehensive (representing only the major failings of his own time) there is much to be gained by a few moments quiet reflection of Baxter's still salient points.

Baxter #2 - Heeding Those In Your Care

In the dim distant past I was fortunate enough to study psychology at university. As a result I always have plenty of material on hand to spice up dull dinner party conversation - 'werewolves', dissociative fugue, why that anti-AIDS "Bowling Death" ad was ineffective, etc. I also learned how to decode common mental tics like Deja-vu - that eerie feeling of having been/seen/heard something before. Despite what the psychics may espouse, deja-vu derives from a misfire in your synapses when, on the presentation of a stimulus, your natural 'Recognition -> Emotional Response' process is reversed. Your consciousness then attempts to compensate by giving you the "We've Been Here Before" feeling. Perfectly natural, but in this case it really is your mind playing tricks on you!

I had such a feeling reading through chapter 2 of The Reformed Pastor this week. However, in this case, I could pinpoint exactly where the feeling came from...

Baxter continues his discursus on the oversight of the church by expanding on his key text of Acts 20:28. After instructing his readers that they must begin by taking heed of themselves he then describes how they must take heed of those whom God has given them. It is at this point that the feeling of deja-vu kicks in. It is obvious that Baxter owes a great deal to Bucer in his second chapter. His identification of the different types of 'sheep' to be dealt with follows Bucer almost exactly and his instruction about restoring those who are lost in sin also follow Bucer's pattern. This in itself is not surprising. Though Bucer's work had not appeared in English, the debt that 17th Century Puritanism owed to 16th Century Geneva made it natural that Baxter should turn to the Reformation texts for inspiration.

Baxter, following Bucer, takes pains to outline the seriousness of the work of guarding souls and calling those who have not believed in Christ to put their faith in Him. He views the congregation as the central charge of the pastor, and expresses disdain for those weak leaders who seek a comfortable living or ecclesiastical preferment rather than preaching the Gospel. None are to be neglected, but the lost are to be sought, the injured healed, the weak strengthened, etc. Those who are interested in some of the niceties would do well to read my previous posts on Bucer - the effect would be the same.

I then began asking myself, since Bucer and Baxter appear to be of a similar mind, which of their treatments I preferred. After careful consideration it is my view that not much was gained in the 100 years that separate the two tracts, and in fact a few points have suffered in the ageing.

No-one for a moment questions that Baxter strove to be biblical in all his opinions. The problem is that he does not go out of his way to demonstrating it. In many ways the main weakness that applied to Herbert also applies to Baxter - a lack of broad engagement with Scripture to justify their positions. Perhaps this was just a question of contemporary style - I haven't read enough of the 17th Century divines, either Puritan or Moderate, to make a judgment. It was, of course, possible to quibble with Bucer's exegesis (indeed, given the advances in biblical scholarship, you would be concerned if you couldn't), but at least you could feel comfortable that he was attempting to use a range of texts to justify his pastoral applications. Baxter relies on one text, and while there is nothing objectionable in his conclusions it would have been nice to see him justify them occasionally.

An area in which Baxter differs markedly from Bucer is over the issue of public penance. It will be remembered that Bucer maintained that restoration of proper application of public penance was essential for the health of the church in those cases where gross sin has seriously damaged community as evidence that the repentance of the sinner has been genuine. Indeed, Bucer devoted a large portion of his treatise to this subject. However, Baxter ignores the subject completely, willing to take declarations of contrition as evidence enough of repentance. Bucer felt that pastoral discipline should extend to both the internal and the external spheres, while Baxter seems rooted in the former. Bucer's opinions swayed me initially and I have not had cause to alter my judgment.

This is not to dismiss Baxter's approach completely. On the whole he expands upon the work that Bucer had done previously, and his prose is both affecting and compelling. It is hard not to be moved while reading Baxter to do the very best possible in our pastoral roles. At some moments, however, Baxter's enthusiasm appears to run away with him and he is not as systematic as someone like Calvin would have been. Several of his points regarding the manner of oversight overlap greatly and it is possible that this section could have been simplified. However, this was probably a tendency of the age and should not be judged too harshly.

Baxter #1 - Test Yourself

Greetings my public!

I must grovel for your pardon at not having updated sooner, but I was caught up in the maelstrom of Easter followed by a delightful holiday. During my absence I have slowly been ploughing through Richard Baxter's major pastoral work The Reformed Pastor. A couple of observations before I begin.

First, I must admit to being less than convinced of the merits of Puritanism. This is not to say that I disagree with the major theological thrusts of the great 17th Century divines (Sibbes, Owen, Baxter, etc). Indeed, from what I have read, they contributed a great deal to our understanding of Scripture and provided valuable reflection on the work of the Genevan Reformers of the previous century. However, it is clear that Puritanism was more "fine china" than "sturdy mug" - prone to easy fracturing and therefore must be handled gently. I am yet to form a judgment on their ecclesiology (perhaps Baxter will help in this regard) but to my eye it seems unnecessarily minimalist. Perhaps those who more schooled than myself in this period will throw up their hands at my assumptions, but I am willing to admit that my views come from ignorance. I am determined to approach Baxter in the same way that I approached Herbert, without preconceptions about the fitness of the views that I will find. I am aware that Puritanism has strongly influenced my own tradition - I wish to discover if this has been an influence for the good by keeping a critical approach to the text.

Second, I am extremely glad that I read Chrysostom before starting with Baxter. As will be seen, they approach the question of "pastoral fitness" from completely different angles, shaped by their cultures and experiences. It has reminded me how deep the wells of theology can go. It seems the more I read the more I need to read.

Baxter begins his treatise like a doctor examining a sick patient. His aim is to correct the poor standards of pastoral ministry then operating in England. Those who believe that the age of turbulent priests ended with Henry VIII should look to Baxter's work for an alternate view. Laziness, immorality, careerism, and open disdain for God's Word came just as easily to a Protestant church as to a Catholic one.

The solution that Baxter proposes contrasts markedly with that of Chrysostom. While the Golden Tongue wished to ensure that only the most incorruptible of the church should be advanced to ordination, Baxter starts with the assumption that corruptibility is a beast to be kept at bay by all those in ministry. Baxter is more theologically correct in his anthropology, but this does not mean that he is comfortably with lower standards. On the contrary, it is evident that Baxter wants only those who have a true heart to call people back to God to take on pastoral tasks. But even those whose motives are pure should be willing to submit themselves to frequent and rigorous spiritual examination to see whether their lives, faith, or doctrine has begun to decay. The title of Baxter's work is therefore most appropriate - there can be no pastor who is not reformed or in the process of reformation. To ignore this need and to rely on one's own moral standing to maintain purity is a dangerous game that puts souls in peril.

[note: I don't think that Chrysostom was exceedingly in error in his anthropology (though perhaps in his later years, given the bitter experiences that were to follow, he may have been more circumspect). Instead, I think that Chrysostom took the view that past performance was a good indicator of future behaviour. Those who had shown themselves worthy and godly servants in the past, full of charity and piety, were those who were less likely to resist the temptations that come with the pastoral office.]

Baxter's work is refreshing. It smacks of practical, sometimes bitter, experience of a national church that had not fulfilled the promises of the Reformation. Despite occasional archaisms, he paints a picture of the rough waters of ministry that is eerily familiar to anyone with a modicum of practical experience. If I was to have one criticism of this first section of the book it is that Baxter occasionally has a touch of the "Athanasian Lurgy"
- repeating points he has already made when answering a new question. While it means that he is less open to the charge of not answering objections fully it does lend a certain tediousness to his prose. Perhaps he will correct this as he goes on.

Chrysostom #2 - A Priesthood of Preachers

For all the prominence given to the business of preaching in our pastoral schemas it is odd that this topic has not been addressed significantly in my previous texts. Both Bucer and Herbert, of course, make reference to the importance of preaching. Yet it is apt that it is Chrysostom who places the ability to preach as the major practical skill of pastoral ministry. For those not aware, John Chrysostom was the John Piper of the ancient church, able to both deeply move a congregation's emotions and challenge their minds on important doctrinal issues. Chrysostom was not a systematician but a preacher, and it is through the preached word that his theological contributions were made. Very few others have managed to follow his lead, though it is arguably the best theological methodology we have.

It is necessary to remember that at this point in his life Chrysostom felt himself unworthy of ministry calling, perceiving himself to be both open to the temptation of vanity and unable to resist the attacks upon his soul that would come from a public role. His harsh self-assessment leads him to think himself ill-equipped to deal with the most important pastoral task - the salvation and healing of souls. Military language and allusion permeate Chrysostom's argument. It is clear that he views the world as a place of spiritual conflict, where the weak are preyed on by the powers of darkness, protected only those equipped for the battle.

The equipment required is the Word (IV.3). It is not always a gentle balm to the wound but it is the one that God has given for the salvation of souls. Only when the Word of God dwells richly in the heart of the minister are they ready to defeat those opposed to the gospel of salvation (IV.4). It is clear that Chrysostom prefers substance over style, despite his own classical education which had stressed the importance of rhetoric. While a preacher may falter over language or use only "simple" arguments, but if he is skilled at a true defence of the Faith and accurate in his doctrine then he is more worthy than any philosopher of the age (IV.6). While the importance of a pious and virtuous life cannot be denied, the example of a godly life is of limited use against a direct attack against the truth of the Word. Only those who have skills in teaching Truth and refuting Error can save those in mortal peril (IV.8-9).

The ideal pastor, according to Chrysostom, must have two personal strengths - being indifferent to the praise (or censure) of the people and the ability to preach well (V.1). Public preaching will always result in the praise or approbation of the speaker. Therefore, ministers need to be skilled in dealing with both so that they may not be dragged down into vanity (V.4). Ministers must therefore devote themselves to study and the practice of preaching, to remove themselves from spheres where praise or censure can drag them down and instead aim for loftier goals (V.5-6).

Chrysostom's points are noetic rather than practical. Those who seek a practical guide from the patristic period would be better reading Augustine's On Christian Teaching (De Doctrina Christiana). It would be also easy to take Chrysostom's advice as a licence for isolationism in ministry, e.g. "We must remain in our closets studying faithfully, lest we go out into the world and meet someone who approves of us and therefore drag us down again." This would be to take his thinking too far. Yet it is interesting to consider his view that a descent into vanity harms not only our souls but those to whom we minister. It is in this context that his warnings should be taken. Also worthy of note is his belief in the power of the Word for those in ordained ministry. Priests and bishops are not held up as Infallible Holy-men because of their ordination vows. Rather, those who accept church office must be recognisable as people of the Word and must be driven back to it again and again in order that they might not fall into temptation and place their sheep in danger. It is a good warning to me personally not to fall back on my theological qualifications as an excuse for spiritual laxity. There is work to be done and battles to be fought!

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.

Herber #2 - The Pastor in Social Engagement

One of the difficulties of doing historical theology is understanding the social world of those with whom we engage. Much time is taken by researchers wresting with what theologians in former time understood by grand theological concepts such as Essence, Being, Reconciliation, and Incarnation. The depths to which ancient minds relied upon the accepted wisdom of the ancient Greeks or formed new paths through the Scriptural evidence is thoroughly probed. Other circumstances of their lives (manners, customs, politics, social conventions, food, etc) form the general background - enough to fill an amusing volume to be consumed during a beachside holiday, but rarely poignant to the big issues. As I come to this second, and final, post on George Herbert I think I have realised that the reverse is more often true in the realm of pastoral theology. The so-called Big Ideas are more often assumed by those writing (or passed over briefly) so that they can get to the main game of the practicalities of leading the flock in godliness. For our contemporary writers their culture is our culture and we don't give it much consideration. However, when a work like The Country Parson comes into our sphere our distance from the social world of the writer can put us at a serious disadvantage and so easily lead us into a quick judgmentalism. Such an attitude would be easy to take regarding the second half of Herbert's work, in which he considers the pastor's role in the contemporary social fabric. Herbert maintains that the country parson serves not only as spiritual pastor but as judge and doctor to those in his parish, prepared at all times to administer both spiritual and temporal remedies (XXIII). He is also to take a social survey of the lives of those in his parish, even going so far as to instruct his parishioners as to how their grown-up children should conduct themselves in worldly affairs (XXXII). He should also take an active role in local customs and festivals (if they are not spiritually abhorrent) of which his local people are fond (XXXV). If the modern pastor followed all such advice he would probably find himself with a lawsuit, a broken nose, and an aching posterior from watching endless games of Rugby League. Yet in Herbert's social context such advice was key in expressing a key Christian pastoral maxim - Care for the Whole Person. It is clear from the New Testament that ministry does not stop at the Word but it includes attention to what I like to call Christian Care. It is belief that ministry must care for the whole person and not merely body or soul that underpins Acts 6:1-6. Here spiritual and temporal ministry are not divorced but in fact work together. Other passages such as 1 Timothy 5 show that a minister is not only interested in the spiritual state of his congregation but in how their faith becomes applied to their life circumstances. The flock must not be left to care for themselves when there is a dire need. This, I believe, underpins Herbert's thinking at this point in his work. What now may appear to us as being presumptive meddling in the lives of others was in Herbert's context a healthy pattern of social engagement in an agricultural society where "basic services" like healthcare and access to justice were luxuries. The question is now how do pastors in the 21st Century set up healthy patterns of social engagement with their parishes as a whole? As Western society moves towards a Post-Christian status the temptation has been to retreat, to build an evangelical Maginot Line and hope for the best. But the Panzers are coming, and if we take Herbert seriously, the parson must take a firm stand in these matters, rebuking even the best in his cure, with no fear of the ridicule that comes with the office any yet holding himself in a way that makes it difficult for contempt to be shown to him (XXVIII). Challenging words. I must say that, despite Herbert's superior literary tone and his lack of clear theological reasoning, I found The Country Parson to be a stimulating read. Herbert wishes those who undertake ministry to be internally focused, but instead actively engaged with the outside world while conducting his spiritual duties in an ordered way that focuses attention on the work of Christ. In truth, I do not see the seeds of Latitudinarianism sown through this work, and it now makes more sense to me why someone like Baxter held up Herbert for high praise despite obvious differences in churchmanship. In order to get the best out of Herbert, I believe it is right to focus on the Principles rather than the Practices, as he wrote in rather unusual times. It is right to be charitable with Herbert as he was a man of genuine piety. This is not to say that his work is perfect, and if I was to go into a more detailed analysis of his theses I could raise strong objections. However, I believe that even modern evangelicals should not dismiss The Country Parson too quickly as being irrelevant or spiritually corrupt. Next Time: I know that I had said that I would move from here to the thought of Richard Baxter, but reading Herbert has led me to take a short detour. It was clear from Herbert's work that he was drawing on a rich theological heritage in shaping his pastoral views that I had not yet considered. So, before going on to Baxter, I will take two weeks to look at John Chrysostom's On the Priesthood. It will be a delight for me to get back to the Patristics (and a justification for the purchase of the full ANF and NPNF volumes) and I hope my readers will enjoy the journey with me. P.S. My blog stats inform me that I have been getting a number of reads from countries where I'm sure I know nobody, including a sizable chunk of people from Eastern Europe. If you do happen to live a fair way from Australia and you are reading my imperfect musings please let me know who you are and how you came to find this blog. If I know who you are I can be more engaging in my manner.

Herbert #1 - Good Order in All Things

A rather large shadow looms across Anglican pastoral theology in the form of the saintly George Herbert. A remarkable shadow, given that Herbert lasted only three years in pastoral ministry and gained little influence before illness took him to an early grave and leaving behind a large body of work unpublished. Yet following the publication of his poetry and his pastoral work The Country Parson he became a remarkably unifying figure in the 16th Century English church, being admired by both Traditionalists and Puritans. Richard Baxter (of whom more later) was a particular fan, and more noteworthy given obvious differences in churchmanship and theological method.

So, what to do about "the shadow"? One way to deal with it is to cast it aside, as advocated by contemporary English cleric Justin Lewis-Anthony. In Lewis-Anthony's view Herbert's pastoral methodology contributed to an ongoing Latitudinarian spirit in the English church that simply won't cut it in today's world. The pastor is reduced to being "the nice guy" with attention given to jumping through procedural hoops or meeting communal expectations that have nothing to do with the teaching of Scripture. Accordingly, we need to toss the outdated models and allow pastors to take a much more radical stance with respect to their roles. As an Australian cleric (and one from Sydney, no less) who does not have the burden of working for an "Established Church" this thesis resonates only slightly with my own experience, but I can see the point being made.

But is this the only option for the Evangelical with respect to our Herbertian heritage? It is true that Herbert set a very high bar with respect for the proper administration of pastoral duties (the fact that he had several curates to assist him in what was a rather small parish may account for this). Trying to take Herbert's work as an Official Rulebook would undoubtedly contribute to both pastoral burnout and the distraction from evangelical work that Lewis-Anthony laments. It is also worth noting that Herbert's work is very much of its time. It is a Practical Guide rather than a Theological Exposition. This is regrettable as exegetical holes are rather easy to spot given that Herbert takes a moderately "high" view of the priesthood and begins his work from the assumption of the priest as Jesus' Deputy (which had not been the view of Bucer). Herberts practical instructions are rather quaint and there are several LOL moments (his views on fasting and Bodily Obstructions are most giggleworthy).

Yet there is no doubt that Herbert was a man of genuine piety with much that can teach the modern student. His work is full of Scripture and he has a love of the task of catechism that puts most modern evangelicals to shame. He rejects empty ceremony as being out of step with the good of the people but is equally critical of slovenliness in worship. In everything in the church there is to be Good Order so that nothing can hinder either the worship or learning of those under a minister's care. This is not only in formal worship, but in the pastor's whole way of life. Nothing is to be done thoughtlessly but instead with decent care and good reason. How unlike modern Sydney Anglicanism...

Everyone loves those Saturday mornings where the pace of life can slow right down, the newspapers can be strewn all over the bed, and pyjamas are not shed until lunchtime. This is healthy. But Sunday is not Saturday. When we need to be about the Lord's business we should have a different mindset. Too often we don't. Take, for example, the lack of urgency to solve The Liturgy Problem. Every week our services shamble from Welcome to Dismissal with no uniformity or coherence. We have become Methodists without a Method. We've all read the books, so we're convinced about the importance of having theologically solid structures for communal worship. There is just no impetus to make it so.

But I'm getting too far ahead of myself. Why don't we start with something simple - cleaning up the front of the church! Have a good, hard look at the end of your rainshelter where the Bible reading/teaching/praying happens. Then look at all the unnecessary clutter that is up there - music folders, microphone stands, unused chairs, etc. What doesn't need to be there? What can go into a cupboard (or the bin)? At least if we start with putting our Physical Space in order there might develop a greater enthusiasm for order in other areas...

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 #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.

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...

On Baptism and Thanksgiving

As I approach the end of my College career and look to embark upon the strange world of Parish Ministry certain pastoral issues are beginning to creep into my peripheral vision. Very soon it won't be a question of just What The Boss Has Decided. How I respond to certain difficult situations with integrity becomes even more relevant and I feel that if I start poorly it will be harder to get back on track later.

Recently the question of Baptism has raised its head. To clarify my own view, I am Calvinistic regarding the Sacraments. As for how they should be administered I like what Donald Robinson has to say (though, being honest, I am perhaps a little less congregationalist than he is). In short, when I take my Anglican ordination vows next February I don't believe that I'll have to cross my fingers under the cassock.

I also recognise that some in our congregation feel differently about the Sacraments. With respect to Communion it is reasonably easy to keep your views to yourself as you participate. But Baptism (especially of the infant variety) requires a clear and public judgment call - you either Will or Won't. For those who have had reservations I have noticed a certain compromise making its appearance (it may have been around for a while, I'm not really sure). This is the Thanksgiving Service. The idea being that for those parents who are not comfortable making promises of faith on behalf of their child but still wish a public religious service they ask for the congregation to join in a special time of giving thanks for the birth of the child and praying for wisdom and faith as that child grows.

I firmly believe that all people should follow their conscience in this matter. Because of my own convictions I believe that baptism is as it is scripturally described neither a mandatory rite that all must participate in or a 'work' to earn God's favour. Since it is the grace and work of God which is on view (and this cannot be shaped or bestowed by our ceremonies) I am prepared to be gracious towards those who differ from me.

The question: If in the future I am asked to officiate at such a Thanksgiving service should I agree?

On the one hand there is nothing wrong with giving thanks to God. We should all do it a bit more. And since the grace of God belongs to Him and not to me, who am I to sit in judgment on someone else's conscience. Also (for more pragmatic reasons), simply agreeing may avoid a possibly hurtful pastoral situation.

And yet...

And yet, the more I think about it, I am not convinced that I could in good conscience preside over such a service. Three immediate problems spring to mind:

1) It would be contrary to my ordination vows. Part of what I will be agreeing to is to support the theology of the Anglican Church as expressed in the Prayer Book and 39 Articles. Part of that theology is sacramental and so has been set down in particular ways and not in others. Well, so what? Aren't Anglicans famous for shafting the rules when it suits them? Yes, and that is often part of the problem. Despite my Counterculture affinities I'm not the sort of person who goes out to deliberately subvert the system. Let there be a fair fight or no fight at all. Even more so if I actually agree with the rules as they stand.

2) It shifts our theology of grace from Calvinism to Arminianism. In the service of baptism it is God's grace and faithfulness that is most on show rather than the faith of either the baptized or their sponsors. Our faith is important but only as it testifies to the work of God. When my son was baptized I had faith that God was able to nurture faith even in one so young because of His sovereign call. It seems to me that is is this focus on God's election and grace which are most denied by the Thanksgiving practice. The emphasis is on the hope that one day the child will be 'capable of making a decision on his/her own'. Grace becomes something for the future rather than the present. God is placed as inactive now but active later 'when they are ready'. Such a view of God's grace I could not support.

3) Individual conscience trumps community expressions of faith. If you were to go out to dinner at a good steak restaurant you would probably be a little irritated if the manager declared that because there was a vegetarian sitting at Table 24 the whole restaurant would have to be vegetarian for the evening. You get a similar problem with the Thanksgiving service. Everyone knows that Anglicans are part of the Baby Dunking mob. If you attend our services regularly you can expect a certain number of soggy screaming children per annum. You can even expect to be invited to join in prayers for the faith of these infants in that context. However, when a particular couple decides that such an expression of faith is Not Good and proposes an alternative they in effect ask the community their theological convictions by participating. It is never expressed as such, but the effect over time is confusion over exactly what we do believe about sacraments and a belief that church community is a Choose Your Own Adventure to suit individual needs.

These are some of my gut feelings regarding this situation which I am fairly confident of being placed in at some time. Although, if I'm honest, there are probably arguments for the other side that I haven't considered. To clarify again, I think that it is absolutely right and appropriate both that Christian communities should give thanks for the birth and faith of all children born into them. How this should be expressed with respect to established church practice appears to be a more sticky question than I initially considered.