What Really Matters
It’s been a blessing to hear testimonies of God’s work in individual lives the past two weeks in worship. Now I’d like to share a testimony of my own.
During my last year of college, I lived with two guys, both of whom were involved in the same campus ministry that I was, and all three of us were part of churches that could be described as non-denominational Bible churches. Interestingly enough, within a year or two of graduation, each one of us had made a significant spiritual “move” from the mainstream of evangelical Christianity. One became a Calvinist, one a Roman Catholic, and me, well, I became an Anglican. So, in our zeal, the Calvinist began teaching a Sunday school class on TULIP, the Roman Catholic began to pray the rosary and take RCIA classes, and I devoured anything I could read on Anglican liturgy and history.
I was confirmed in the Episcopal Church while at seminary, and was ordained a year after graduation. I had embraced Anglicanism, and, slowly, it was becoming more and more a part of me – the rhythms of the liturgical year, the beautiful language of the Book of Common Prayer, and the historical and intellectual breadth of the tradition allowed me to come alive as a Christian in new and exciting ways.
In the wake of the “unpleasantness” of the Episcopal Church circa 2003, however, I noticed I had become more devoted to Anglicanism than to Jesus, more curious and open to exploring the minutia of liturgical practice than to allowing the Holy Spirit to move in and through me for the sake of Jesus.
At about this time I read an article in Christianity Today by an evangelical convert to Eastern Orthodoxy, who, reflecting on the zeal with which he embraced his new spiritual home, wrote that he forgot “it’s all about Jesus.” He goes on to say, “I believe that the ‘trappings’ of Orthodoxy – icons, liturgies, rote prayers, and other things evangelicals often are suspicious of – can bring us closer to Christ. But when these things become ends in themselves – idols instead of icons – we need to step back and remember what, or who, it’s all about.” For Anglicans, it may be the liturgical year, the Book of Common Prayer, or the intellectual seriousness of the tradition that tempt us toward idolatry. The question, always, must be, “Are these identity markers or practices leading me closer to God’s heart, bringing me to a deeper longing for Jesus and his kingdom, or somehow, perhaps subtly, keeping us from them? Fifteen years ago I realized that, for me, “Anglicanism” and all of its virtues had become an idol, and I needed to repent.
Interestingly, the author of the article I referenced above remained in the Orthodox church, but he was chastened by his experience of “forgetting” Jesus, and, regarding his evangelical past, he writes, “Instead of ‘evangelizing’ my evangelical friends, I now hope to learn from them.” In much the same way, I continue to worship and serve within Anglicanism, yet much more aware of Anglicanism’s limitations, and how much we have to learn from other Christians.
To paraphrase Paul, “What advantage is there in being an Anglican? Much in every way!” (see Romans 3:1-2). I’m reminded of an article many years ago in Harper’s magazine on the conflicts within the Anglican Communion. Henry Orombi, the Archbishop of Uganda at the time, was asked by the author what he saw of value in the Anglican tradition, and, in the author’s words, “[Orombi] said without a moment’s pause, ‘It is beautiful.’”
Paul’s letter to Galatians challenges us to examine our lives, inviting us to the foundational reality of Christian life – Jesus’ cross and resurrection, and the abiding presence and power of the Holy Spirit. The beauty of Anglicanism can be incredibly helpful along the way, and I’m thankful for it. Let’s gather for worship on Sunday, then, in such a way that the beauty of Anglicanism can allow us to enter more deeply into the reality of Jesus and his kingdom.
Peace,
Chris