Jonathan's Headspace

Jessica and I recently joined an Anglican (ACNA) church. This will trace some of the basic thought processes behind the decision.

Part of the reason is simply circumstantial. We’ve been in Presbyterian churches for the past several years and I still align well with Presbyterian theology and doctrine in general. But we’ve moved to a new city, and I’ve been underwhelmed by the Presbyterian churches in the area for various reasons, while at the same time there happens to be a small ACNA church in the area we have been impressed with. But while I’m not particularly discontent with Presbyterianism in general, there are some underlying theological convictions that have made the Anglican tradition a legitimately appealing spot in its own right.

Before I get into the specifics of why I find Anglicanism appealing, there is a bit of an elephant in the room that probably need to be addressed—that being King Henry VIII. Many people will simply dismiss Anglicanism on the basis that the church of England was started by King Henry just so he could get a divorce that the Catholic Pope wouldn’t grant. I think that’s wrongheaded, and a few points need to be made in response.

First, as a point of fact, the schism that exists today between Rome and the English church is not Henry’s schism. The English church was brought back into communion with the Roman Catholic Church under Queen Mary, albeit briefly, before breaking again under Queen Elizabeth. The schism that exists today is from the Elizabethan settlement, which was shaped not only by the political questions of the proper relationship between the church and the secular authorities within a given realm, but also the theological disputes of the broader reformation that were going on everywhere else in Europe.

Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, is that the only group that can really raise this objection against Anglicanism with any consistency is the Roman Catholics. To claim that King Henry’s rejection of the Papal authority constitutes the creation of a new church is to assume that the church is defined in reference to the Roman Papacy. But that’s a fundamentally Roman Catholic view of ecclesiology which would delegitimize not only the Anglican tradition, but every church tradition that is not subject to the Roman Pope. If we are to take a Protestant understanding where the church is fundamentally defined in terms of the apostolic faith—that is, the confession of Jesus Christ as the Son of God crucified, buried, raised, ascended, and seated in accordance with the scriptures, then the Anglican church is true and ancient insofar as it is faithful to that confession, which is the same standard we apply to every other tradition of churches whether they be Roman, Lutheran, Eastern, Presbyterian, Baptist, etc.

Moreover, if we are going to dismiss Anglicanism because of King Henry’s role in the separation of the English churches from Papal communion, then we must also dismiss most American protestant and evangelical groups because they too have roots in the post-Henry English church. Most of the Baptist tradition in America originates from the Congregationalist Puritans who were themselves a reform movement within the church of England, and much of the non-denominational evangelical tradition is an extension of that. The same can be said of the Methodists, as they were another reform movement within the Anglican tradition, and the Pentecostals emerged as an extension of that.

If anyone in any of these traditions object to Anglicanism on account of King Henry, they end up refuting their own as well because they delegitimize the tree of which they themselves are branches. The only ones who can raise the objection from a Protestant perspective without being self-defeating in this way are the Lutherans, Presbyterians, and the non-puritan congregationalist derived Baptist groups such as the Mennonites and Amish.

Thirdly, and finally, it should be noted that Anglicanism is not synonymous with the Church of England. All Anglican denominations historically converge in the Church of England, but they are institutionally distinct from the Church of England. Joining an Anglican church does not mean you are joining the Church of England or taking the English monarch as your supreme governor. That would be the case if you’re in a realm that is subject to the English monarch, but the vast majority of Anglican churches today exist in places that are no longer under English rule. Thus, rather than thinking of Anglicanism as the church founded by King Henry, I think it is much more sensible to think of it as one of the two major branches of the reformed church in England, with the other being the Puritans and their offshoots which dominated the development of reformed evangelicalism in America.

Now, onto the case for Anglicanism.

I believe the Anglican Tradition is both reformed and catholic.

I believe the Anglican tradition possesses a more sensible approach to catholicity by avoiding the excesses of both the ecclesialist traditions (mainly Roman Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy) as well as other streams of the protestant reformation and modern evangelicalism.  

With respect to the core issues of the reformation, the Anglican tradition is decidedly protestant. It rejects the Roman doctrine of Papal supremacy, accepts the reformation doctrines of sola scriptura and justification by faith alone, and the theology of the 39 Articles of Religion was shaped primarily by reformed theologians. Given that I accept the reformed position on virtually every point of dispute between the protestants and the Roman Catholics, and that I reject the traditional claims of the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox churches to be “the one true church” (I believe they are part of the one true church but not the entirety of it), the Anglican protestant identity is a non-negotiable for me.

Beyond taking what I believe to be the correct position with respect to the issues of the reformation in response to various errors and excesses within Roman Catholicism, I think the Anglican tradition has also generally avoided what I have come to see as errors and excesses within the reformed tradition and broader evangelical movement as well.

Because of the historical development of the reformed tradition as a protest against various elements of Roman Catholicism, there is an ever-present temptation for reformed and evangelical Christianity to define itself in terms of its opposition to Rome. This can and often does create an effect where the goal of Christian practice is to be as not Roman Catholic as possible.

Take for example the identification of Mary as the “Mother of God.” Evangelicals will often balk at giving this title to Mary because they associate it with what they see as Roman Catholic excesses and superstitions in Mariology, either ignorant of or disregarding the fact that this has historically been a statement concerning orthodox Christology (identifying Jesus as God) which was accepted by the reformers themselves. The situation that emerges is a movement which claims Christ as its center but will object to a historically orthodox statement of Christology for the sake of not sounding too Catholic. This, in my view, is an absurdity.

Other examples of doctrines and practices that are often rejected or at least viewed with skepticism on account of their association with Rome include the real presence of Christ in communion, episcopal church structure, infant baptism, the usefulness of the apocryphal books, the authority of church tradition, genuflections, the wearing of vestments by clergy, and liturgical worship in general. Evangelicals and those in the Puritan stream of the reformed tradition often see these things as inherently Roman Catholic, either unaware that these are all accepted within historic Protestantism (especially the Lutheran tradition) or attributing that fact to the notion that the early reformers simply didn’t get around to applying their own principles to those subjects.

In contrast, the general disposition of Anglicanism is to retain those traditions which have come down to us through the ancient church, but in a way that they are weighed and balanced by the scriptures and the recognition of the scriptures as the only authority upon which we can establish a doctrine or practice as an article of faith.

This results in Anglicanism being something of a big tent, because it tolerates a lot of diversity in doctrine and practice. It is not as rigidly confessional as the Presbyterian and Lutheran traditions. It is not as reactionary against Roman Catholicism or as disconnected from tradition as much of conservative evangelicalism is. It is not dogmatically exclusive on matters of secondary or tertiary doctrines that cannot be clearly established from scripture like Rome is. Some see this as a reason to not be Anglican, but I would argue that this is a feature, not a flaw, and the Anglican tradition is truly catholic in the spirit of Romans 14:5, “letting each be convinced in his own mind” while of course maintaining the boundaries of Christian orthodoxy expressed in the historic creeds of the church.  

Anglicanism possesses a credible claim to Apostolic succession.

I’m still sorting out my exact thoughts on this subject, but the idea of apostolic succession is appealing to me, and the Anglican church is the only protestant tradition I know of that claims it (yes, I know the Roman Catholics reject this claim).

The idea is straightforward. Jesus appointed His apostles to establish the church. When those apostles established churches, they appointed overseers (bishops). Those bishops appointed overseers after them. So on and so forth until present day. These ordinations are done by the laying on of hands, so that a bishop today who has legitimate apostolic succession actually has a physical connection to the apostles themselves through the practice of laying on of hands.

I do not think there is a basis for believing that having a valid claim to apostolic succession is necessary to have a true church or valid sacraments, which is my understanding of both the Roman and Eastern teachings. Moreover, it is obvious that having a claim to apostolic succession through the episcopy does not guarantee the faithfulness of either the bishops themselves or the congregations under their jurisdiction, because both Rome and the Eastern Orthodox acknowledge one another’s claims to apostolic succession and yet they are in schism with each claiming to be the one true church. Furthermore, each would acknowledge that there are validly ordained bishops within its own ranks who they would deem heretical.

I do think it’s pretty obvious that faithfulness to the apostolic witness of Christ is the true essence of a church, not the validity of the ordination of its overseers. I would also say there’s a sense in which anyone who possesses the true apostolic proclamation of Christ can be said to be in apostolic succession, because the apostolic proclamation of Christ originates with the apostles. There is no other source from which anyone in possession of it today could have gotten it. But that doesn’t mean the appointment of overseers by the laying of hands was purposeless. If the church is God’s kingdom on earth, then it stands to reason that it should have a physical continuity to it through time, and that’s something apostolic succession provides. While apostolic succession in this sense may not be necessary to have a true church, it certainly seems to me to be proper and appropriate to maintain. Therefore, if I have the option to be in a church with an overseer who has a valid claim to apostolic succession and is faithful to the apostolic proclamation of Christ, I should do that.

With respect to the episcopal structure as opposed to a presbyterian one, I recognize that’s a matter of pretty legitimate dispute. As I said, I’m still working through this subject. But as of right now even if it’s the case that the church in the New Testament era was structured more like Presbyterian polity, I don’t think it necessarily follows that an episcopal structure is invalid. Moreover, I think it is difficult to account for the almost immediate and widespread development of the episcopacy in the centuries following the apostolic era with Ignatius, himself being at most only a generation removed from the apostle John (if not a disciple of his directly), clearly articulating a distinction between presbyter and bishop mere decades afterward if such a structure was an aberration.

Liturgical worship

I am increasingly convinced that corporate worship is properly liturgical. This is not simply a matter of a personal stylistic preference. It’s a theologically and biblically grounded conviction. This topic probably warrants its own consideration, but I’ll trace the basic points here.

The worship God commands of the Israelites is very plainly liturgical in nature. The worship in the temple and synagogue in which Jesus participated is plainly liturgical. Therefore, it stands to reason that when the apostles speak of “worship,” a liturgical structure is assumed by their very use of the term, since that is the Biblical and cultural context in which they are using it. Jesus is of course the fulfillment of the various elements of Jewish liturgy which was given to typify His coming, and so obviously His revelation and completion of the things to which it testifies entails a change in expression, such as baptism replacing circumcision and the ceremonial washings, or communion replacing Passover and the rest of the sacrificial system. But that does not imply doing away with liturgical structure altogether.

Evidence of this can be seen in the New Testament even at the very beginning of church in Acts 2:42: “And they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, to the breaking of bread, and the prayers.” Notice the reference to “the” prayers, not just the practice of praying in general. I’m of the opinion that the prayers in view are the prayers recited at the temple, as immediately following in Acts 3:1 we are told that Peter and John were going to the temple “at the hour of prayer.”

The basic logic of liturgical worship is that we are attempting to mirror on earth what is going on in heaven, and the descriptions of worship in heaven are obviously liturgical as Moses was commanded to structure the worship for the people according to what was shown to him on Mount Sinai (Exodus 24-31).

This isn’t to say there’s an explicit or detailed liturgy given to us in the New Testament, but historically the church has taken this general principle and structured its worship according to the elements we can ascertain from heavenly worship, informed especially by John’s vision in Revelation 4 where we see what corresponds to vestments (the white robes of the elders), genuflections (the elders casting their crowns before the throne and bowing down), doxologies (the refrains of the Seraphim and the elders), etc. The liturgy centers on the proclamation of Christ through the scriptures (the words of the liturgy are virtually all taken directly from scripture or adaptations of it) and the breaking of the bread, as these are the two normative ways in which we encounter Christ (1 Corinthians 11:23 & 15:3).

Beyond the theological, biblical, and historical credentials of liturgical worship, it also carries practical benefits worth mentioning, particularly the facilitation of unity. In this view, worship is something that exists outside of the individual, which the individual submits and joins himself to. This guards against the temptation to base a church’s worship around the personality or charisma of its leaders. It also means that any given person’s expressions of worship or piety are not limited or restricted by his or her own temperament, zeal, mood, or knowledge because we have access to and make use of these prayers, praises, and practices developed and passed down throughout the centuries by those who were gifted by God to produce mature, rich expressions of worship.

This isn’t to say there’s no room for spontaneity in Christian worship or piety. Nor does it mean there aren’t real problems that can and do arise in liturgical settings. One of the great strengths of evangelicalism is its commitment to and emphasis on personal piety and praise. This arose as a warranted and needed reaction to the tendency of people in liturgical traditions to fall into a sort of dead ritualism where outward form is valued and elevated to the exclusion or negligence of the need for inward transformation. I would simply argue that the proper solution to this problem is to actually learn, reflect on, and believe what the liturgy depicts rather than to dismiss liturgical form altogether as most of evangelicalism has done in the past few centuries.

In conclusion, none of this is to say I could no longer exist in other contexts—I believe I could still get along quite well in most conservative Presbyterian, Baptist, and even Lutheran settings. But as of right now, I believe Anglicanism is the church tradition which best accounts or allows for my current views on theology, catholicity, worship, and practice.