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.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, May 9, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
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!
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!
Sunday, April 10, 2011
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.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
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.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
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...
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...
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