Two Timely Christmas Sermons from Pusey House

I noted on a past Feast of Holy Innocents that Christmas has its dark side.  We often try to push that aside in strenuous efforts to be merry, but on this Holy Innocents Day of 2020, one would have to engage in significant denial to ignore it.

So I am glad to have come across Christmas sermons this year that tackle the current difficulties and the present darkness head on.  Two of those come from the Principal of Pusey House, George Westhaver during their Christmas Eve Midnight Mass.

Although I could only watch the opening of his sermon live due to my preparations for a Christmas Eve service, I was able to watch it the remainder of the evening and was edified.  I hoped it would be posted for all to see and read and have not been disappointed.  The transcript is here.

Dr. Westhaver expounded on John 1:5 – “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

I said two sermons from Pusey House because Westhaver refers to a sermon from Dr. Pusey.  That sermon, too, well addresses the relevance of Christmas to great difficulties and may be found here.

Although I hope the difficulties of my readers have not been too great, I also hope these sermons encourage you in the midst of a trying time as they have me.

Do have a blessed Holy Innocents Day and a happy Christmas season. 

The Good Samaritan Revisited

I have a confession to make.  There are a few Bible passages that come up in worship and teaching often and prompt me to think with a tedious sigh, “Oh.  That passage again.”  Yes, that response is sinful and disgusting.  And the parable of the Good Samaritan, which is the Gospel for the 13^th Sunday after Trinity, has been one of those passages.

But I am glad to say the Lord and two excellent sermons on this parable disabused me of that putrid attitude.  First my Rector used the occasion to preach against false notions of social justice prevalent today.  I am encouraged by this and other signs of push back in ACNA.  He also noted that the inn symbolizes the church, something I had either forgotten or missed.

Then I read Sunday’s sermon at Pusey House from the Principal, George Westhaver.  I found it a delight, full of history and interpretation that is new to me.  The significance of traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho, the connection between the Gospel and Epistle lessons for Trinity 13, interpretations of the two denarii – these are among the new (or forgotten) things the sermon taught me.  And, yes, the Principal’s thankfulness for the lawyer’s question also made me smile.

Need I say more?  Read his sermon! (It can also be found at the Pusey House site.  Be aware that his sermons are prepared for delivery more than for reading.  There may be an occasion abbreviation or typo.)

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TRINITY 13 2020, The Good Samaritan Jesus Christ, Pusey House

Now which of these three was neighbour….

 

The hero of the Gospel story is obviously the Samaritan who cares for the injured man. But the Samaritan is not the only one for whom we may be grateful, we may also be grateful to the lawyer and his questions. People have many jokes about lawyers, but here lawyer is a kind of hero also. Who is my neighbour? The Lawyer’s questions alert us to an important challenge. How do I recognize my neighbour, know the call to love? We’ll look at the answer in a moment, but notice – both the lawyers questions were asked in part for bad reasons. We are told that lawyer wanted to tempt Christ, and that’s what the devil did. And then, we are told that he wanted to justify himself, which is what the Pharisee from Gospel a few weeks ago did, and we know that this is dangerous also. But, in the mercy of God, even these bad motives are turned to good. Thank God for the lawyer, not only for the good in his question, but also for the way the Lord Jesus turns bad to good, death to life. We pray or we ask questions of God for many reasons, and sometimes, with bad and good mixed up in or hopes and in our motives. Yet, if we take questions to Christ, if we persevere in our desiring and asking, we have a good hope that even our confused motives will be turned to good. I may pray for peace of mind, and don’t get it. And then, I am given grace to see that I don’t know the things which belong to my peace, then I see that the Lord is calling me to change so that he can give His peace.^[1]

Some of you will have heard me speak about how his parable is presented in the stained glass of Chartres cathedral. When great Gothic cathedrals were built, filled with stained glass. In golden age of late 12^th and early 13^th, when glass of Chartres and Canterbury was made, most of these cathedrals had a Good Samaritan window. 

The Good Samaritan window is the paradigmatic window of the classic age of stained  glass--why? 

On the one hand, the message of the parable is clear and straightforward. The one who is neighbour to the injured man is an outsider. The Jews looked at the Samaritans with hostility and distrust, and with some good reason. The parable teaches us to see in the outsider our neighbour, one stamped also with the image of God. We are warned about the forms of prejudice or hostility that lead us to deny the common humanity which we share with those different from us. This is of course true, but when the parable was preached on in the ancient Church, most commentators did not begin here. In the Gospels, Jesus is sometimes called a Samaritan, a term of abuse. When we ask who is neighbour to the man in need, the answer the early commentators on this passage gave first was Jesus. They saw in the parable a description the human need, and a description of the fulfilment of the promise in Christ.

 

A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho. 

This is not just any journey. This is a journey from the city of promise, to the city of the curse. Jericho was a cursed place in the OT. It was a favourite retreat of Herod the Tetrach, who killed John the Baptist, and Jericho was near the traditional site of the Temptation of our Lord. The route from Jerusalem to Jericho was notorious as being infested by thieves, a dangerous route. Why would anyone want to leave Jerusalem, the place of the temple, the city of promise, to the city of the curse? If that sounds like a strange question, why would any one of us not chose things which belong to our peace? Well, it’s not so easy is it? We get confused, envy seems like justice, lust seems like love, idolatry seems like enlightened free choice, and even hatred can even dress itself up as hurt feelings. 

We can find ourselves on the way to Jericho almost before we realize it. We may feel trapped, chained. The very things we hate about ourselves come out, again, the very things we confessed and desperately wanted to get rid of, again we find ourselves on the road to Jericho. Sometimes, we don’t think that we’ll go all the way to Jericho, but we can’t stay cooped up in a city of peace, joy, and faith all the time, can we? That wouldn’t be human, or it doesn’t seem that way anyway. This journey describes humankind which fell away from God, and each one of us choosing the wrong thing, finding ourselves, somehow, on the road to Jericho again. This certain man is Adam, every man, and us. When we make that journey, we always fall among thieves. Sometimes we convince ourselves that it won’t work out that way. But, when we give ourselves to hatred, or divisive anger, or contempt, we always loose something of ourselves: the thieves stripped [the man] of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead. This is a picture of the life-sapping character of sin, of all choices against the love and wisdom of God. 

 

Next we come to the part of the story where we are most tempted to self-righteousness. 

And by chance there came down a certain priest that way; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. And likewise a Levite,

On a human level, of course the priest and levite, the religious experts, should stop. We may feel convicted here, and see how we have done the same thing. Ironically, this is a problem more of those who are really trying to live well. The trouble is that our efforts to do the right thing can lead to a certain contempt for those who are in trouble. 

But there is also a deeper truth here. The priest and Levite aren't heartless, they’re just not capable of helping the man. They are the law and the prophets. They can see the man in the ditch, they can see that he has fallen among thieves, they can see that he needs help, but they are not the Saviour. This old interpretation explains what might seem like an odd choice for the Epistle. The Epistle describes the relation of promise and law, what the law can give, and what the Christ will do. St Paul says that the law was a kind of schoolmaster to bring us to Christ. At the same time, it’s not enough  to be given a law, or a code of practice. The law needs to enlivened by the Spirit, by the goodness which the prophets embraced and preached: for if there had been a law given which could have given life, verily righteousness should have been by the Law.

The priest and the Levites are the Law which reveals why it is a bad idea to go to Jericho, but a law which cannot heal the deep wounds which we get on the way there, they cannot give life to the dead or the half-dead.

But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was; and when he saw him, he had compassion on him

The Good Samaritan is the one who is the perfect neighbour to the man in need, or, to speak more generally, the perfect neighbour to humankind in need. According to the early interpreters of the Bible, Augustine, Origen, Ambrose, for example, this Samaritan is Jesus Christ. The Good Samaritan is the one who, for us men and for our salvation, came down from heaven, and took the road of this present life. He is the seed of Abraham in whom the law and the promise is fulfilled. In the words of Pusey’s mentor and confessor, John Keble, out of love for us, "He made Himself a Samaritan, one who was despised and an outcast of the people."^[2] Christ took the road from Jerusalem to Jericho to be our fellow-traveller, and he falls among thieves for us. In the great Good Samaritan window in Chartres, the certain man gives his back to the smiters, he opens not his mouth, the thieves are like the vicious soldiers in a passion painting, all the while the cross-shaped tree waits for the noble weight of the limbs of the Son of God. 

The Good Samaritan, Jesus Christ does not pass by. He falls among thieves for us, but the viciousness of this un-love has no power over him. He rises from the dead to come to look for us, wounded, and half-dead (note well – only half dead). He pours in wine: this is my blood of the new covenant which is shed for you and for many for the remission of sins. The good Samaritan does not pass by, he finds each one of us, "binds up our wounds, pouring in oil and wine, healing our past sins and giving us grace".^[3]

What happens next? 

The Samaritan puts the man ‘on his beast’.

In the tradition, this beast is the human nature which the Son of God takes on. Human nature had become beast-like, but the Word becomes flesh, and then carries us with this flesh.

Another interpretation is that this beast is, you know this of course, this beast is the clergy.^[4] By the grace of God, our Lord can use the most stubborn animal to serve his purposes of love, even the clergy. 

The fathers heard the inn as a description of the Church. In the two denarii they saw the treasure of the Gospel, the Old and New Testaments, the two great sacraments, baptism, and HC. Our Lord departs, but it is his treasure, his Word, the sacraments of His life, which sustain us. 

This is, of course, a very brief tour of a very rich parable, rich with the treasure of the Gospel.

Which now is neighbour to him that fell among thieves? First, it is Christ. We are blessed to see the love of God which searches out the man in the parable, but which searches out each one of us on the way from Jerusalem to Jericho. It is his love in us which sends us out to love and to serve. 

Who is the Good Samaritan? This is tricky. 

In a phrase worthy of Stalin, Roger Hallam, one of the founders of Extinction Rebellion, was heard telling his followers that 'the people that run society, run big business, run governments, run the elites' are fully responsible for the 'climate catastrophe'. The solution? MPs and business owners who do not support his understanding of caring for the environment 'should have bullet put through their heads'. Hallam presents his work as saving humanity. That sounds like work of Good Samaritan. But his words reveal something more dangerous and dark, a hatred of at least some of the people he wants to save. 

Some of the conversations about race in recent months show the other problems. Martin Luther King and so many of the great champions of racial equality saw this promise as an expression of the Gospel, of the equal but different dignity bestowed on every person made in the image of God, created to love and to enjoy God’s goodness. On the one hand, we are invited to renew this search for the dignity which God intends. On the other hand, some use language which suggests that some have more dignity than others, language which encourages resentment and division, which condemns the past but shows a great blindness with regard to the present. 

We are living through strange political times, and we need the probing questions of the lawyer in the parable, who is my neighbour, and above all the grace and wisdom of GS JC, a love which conquers hatred and death, and which turns the bad in our mixed motives, to the good wine of his grace. Whatever enables us to see one another, to really see, through eyes of GS JC, this comes first. Then, raised up and enabled to see, with ears unblocked and tongue loosed by the grace of God, then  we can, with the lawyer in the parable, Go and do likewise. 

Let us come to have our wounds bound up, to have grace poured in, to have our eyes open, and to see and love one another in the inn to which the Saviour takes us. 

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[1] Sometimes, if we get exactly what we pray for, it would be like our heavenly father giving us a stone when we need bread. That change is part of how the lawyer’s mixed motives are turned to good, for him and for us. Ask for something, we get something different, important not to go on as if there is no mercy of God, no goodness of God in the different answer, or, from the reading this past week, maybe the struggle is where we find God’s strength in our weakness. Both too simplistic, perhaps. Finding God’s mercy and God’s wisdom in the answer we didn’t want to get is important, key to learning to grow up in our life of prayer. 

[2] Keble Sermons, Trinity XIII-end, p. 22.

[3] Keble.

[4] Thanks to Fr Jonathan Beswick for this.

Letter of Dr. Pusey Discovered

One never knows what one may find in an old book.

The Librarian of Pusey House and her assistants has just experienced this and with joy.  From the pusey.librarian instagram account:

“In possibly the most exciting volunteer shift ever to take place at Pusey House Library, our preservation assistant Kathryn has discovered a letter from Dr. Pusey to his mother, just lurking casually in one of Pusey’s old books!”

Quite a find indeed.

Brainstorming “The Idea of the Anglican University”: An Anglican College?

Long time readers may remember that my sporadic studies at Oxford combined with wrestling with whether and how to earn additional paper (I eventually settled for a well-earned Certificate of Anglican Studies.) has from time to time caused me to reflect on how best to do higher education.  No, I am not a fan of most higher education today, but you probably already guessed that.

So I read with interest Charles Erlandson’s bold proposal of an Anglican University.  I heartily agree that traditional Anglicans need to step it up in higher education.  Our weakness in that area is a drag on our growth and reduces good options for youth.  Erlandson’s goad is needful. 

At the same time, I do have two immediate concerns: 1. To be value-added, an Anglican university needs to be a traditional Anglican university, not just another woke what’s happening now “Evangelical” program with some watered down liturgy thrown in.  2. A “university” implies diverse and broad areas of study.  That would likely take many years to do well.

Dr. Erlandson already addresses my first concern well by proposing that a university be attached to a cathedral or parish.  If that cathedral or parish is robustly orthodox, it should be able to keep any school attached to it orthodox and traditional Anglican as well.  But the host church must be willing to hold accountable its college/university.  It can be done; the REC does an excellent job with its Cranmer House seminary.  But the host church must have the will so to do, including booting wayward professors when necessary.

At the risk of nitpicking the article as well as the word “university”, I do not think he addresses my second concern quite as well.  But then one can hardly solve all the world’s problems in one go. Further, he has elsewhere acknowledged we need to “begin small.”   I agree.  Accordingly I think an Anglican college affiliated to an existing university is more doable.  An Anglican college can focus on what it can do well: religious studies, history, a religious and communal life, and so on while taking advantage of the resources of a larger university and while being a witness to a university.

Of course, my proposal has its own problems. The foremost is the pitfall of the university pressuring a traditional Anglican college to become less traditional and more in line with mediocre education of the day.  At the start, it is absolutely necessary that an Anglican college affiliated with a university have a great deal of independence, including the ability to separate from the university down the road should that become necessary.  Yes, finding a good university agreeable to such an affiliation and respecting the mission of a traditional Anglican college is easier said than done.

But there is a beloved institution that demonstrates that it can be done – Pusey House Oxford.  Now Pusey House is not a college and does not offer any courses itself, at least not yet.  But it is a base for worship, learning, and communal life that has been attracting more and more students at Oxford as it have become more active under the leadership of Principal Dr. George Westhaver.  Space has even become an issue in accommodating the popularity of some of its offerings, a problem unheard of years ago.  It offers frequent lectures, serves as a venue for the C. S. Lewis Society, has become the home of the Oxford Scriptorium, has frequent and quite lively social gatherings in addition to its faithful round of daily traditional worship.  Really, change the bylaws a bit and add courses, and Pusey House would be an excellent small college.

As for its exact relationship with the University of Oxford, that would take some digging, and Oxford does often have a perverse delight in concealing more than revealing.  But my understanding is that it is independent from the university, not a part of it.   At the same time, there is much cooperation between the university and Pusey House, including PH’s wonderful library being treated as part of the university’s system of libraries. 

I can personally testify the mutual benefits between Pusey House and the University of Oxford are great and that PH attracts a growing variety of students across the University as well many from outside, including your humble blogger. 

I think the Pusey House model is a feasible exemplar for an Anglican college and probably more doable than a full-fledged Anglican university, at least at this time.  Of course, there is nothing wrong with different Anglican educational ventures seeking God’s glory and the edification of students.  That most certainly includes Erlandson’s proposed Anglican university.  He is right in stating that our weakness in higher education needs to be addressed and soon.

An Easter Sermon from Pusey House

The following Easter Sunday sermon from the Principal of Pusey House hit my inbox this morning and soon after touched my heart.  It is profound and explains how the resurrection affects us very well. At the same time it reflects the difficulties Oxford and England and the world are going through now.

Imagine Dr. George Westhaver standing alone, alone on Easter Sunday, in the Chapel of the Resurrection in Pusey House addressing his online congregation via Discord . . .

If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God. Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth. For ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God. 

Christ is risen from the dead, Trampling down death by death, And upon those in the tombs, Bestowing life!

Christ is risen from the dead, Trampling down death by death in us, and in whatever way we find ourselves bound in graveclothes, touched by death or despair or fear, giving life, life eternal and full. 

Brothers and sisters in Christ, it is a great joy to have arrived at this day with you. Christ is Risen, Alleluia. I can hear you all crying out, the Lord is Risen indeed, Alleluia. 

We have arrived together at this day. It has been a strange and unsettling pilgrimage. We have been forced into the desert in a new way. We have been compelled to suffer isolation from one another and from communion in the Body of Christ. We’ve been removed from the normal form of communion with one another, and we’ve been removed from communion in the Sacrament of our Lord’s body, this particular form of his sacramental touch and presence has been taken from us. 

We’ve been invited not just to suffer all this, but to find in it the shape of the cross of our Saviour – to lay our lives down, not just to have them taken from us. 

Conscious of those facing danger, sickness, anxiety and death, we’ve also been invited to fellowship with the Man of Sorrows who weeps over Jerusalem, ‘O all ye that pass by, Behold and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow’ (Lamentations 1). Our Lord weeps not only for himself but for all that ravages the life of the earthly city, for all that threatens the people for whom he lays down his life. His sacred tears were shed in love not just for the sins of Jerusalem, but for those facing darkness and the shadow of death, in illness, or in fear, or in anxiety, in these past weeks, and in all time to come. We have kept vigil, first in the Garden of Gethsemane, and then at the cross, and finally, we have kept vigil in the night ‘whereof David said: “Behold the night is as clear as the day: then shall my night be turned into day.”’ 

We have arrived. Christ is Risen from the dead, Alleluia. But where have we arrived? The confusion and turmoil in the Gospel today can be a great encouragement to us. The Saints, Mary Magdalene, Peter and John, come to the tomb, but only John seems to grasp what is happening, and that no doubt imperfectly. The resurrection does not come with easy resolution, but with confusion and perplexity. It’s a wonderful historical picture. It is also a picture of the way in which the Resurrection is not a simple answer which sorts everything out. On the one hand, it is finished, the Lord has raised up the new temple of his Body in which we live and move and have our being. 

On the other hand, what is given in the resurrection comes to us in turmoil and perplexity. We never leave this behind, but rather we discover more of the gift and reality of the Resurrection by entering in, again and again, the confusion of the first disciples of our Lord. We discover more of the gift and reality of the Resurrection for ourselves and for one another by making Mary Magdalene’s words our own – ‘they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him’ (John 20). When we find ourselves seeking the Lord who appears to be taken from us, he finds us precisely there to invite us to know him and to be loved by him in the power and presence of his resurrection. Alleluia. 

In his letter to the Colossians, St Paul also speaks to us, both to tell us what has happened, and to help us to understand why the gift of the Risen life comes with perplexity as well as promise, with anxiety as well as with answers. 

If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God. ... For ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God. 

The great work has been accomplished, finished for us, and yet we must seek it. It is given, and we must find it.  For ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God. 

Where do we find the life which is hid with Christ in God? God is Spirit, but since the Incarnation, God also has a human body (I speak as a fool). We find our lives in the risen body of Christ, the same body, wonderfully transformed, by which he lifts us up, draws near, carries, touches us, feeds us. ‘And if Christ be not risen, then is our preaching vain, and your faith is also vain’ (I Cor 15:14)The Resurrection of Christ is his vindication and victory, and the resurrection of Christ is our vindication and victory over all that takes away life. 

  

The Christian hope is not only the promise of eternal life. Tom Wright, sometime bishop of Durham, one of the great scholars of the Scriptures, and now retired to Oxford, emphasises that we don’t look forward to ‘life after death’, but “life after ‘life after death’”. Our Blessed Lord’s words to the thief are the foundation of Christian hope: ‘Today, you will be with me in Paradise’ (Luke 23.43). This is the beginning of the Christian hope, not the end. There, ‘we shall rest and we shall see, we shall see and we shall love, we shall love [and we shall be loved, we shall know and] we shall praise’. But this is still only the beginning of Christian hope, not the end. We don’t look forward to ‘life after death’, however rich and full beyond our imagining, we look forward to “life after ‘life after death’.” In the collect of the burial office in the Book of Common Prayer, the priest prays that our loved-one departed may first ‘rest in’ Christ. But this is only the beginning; ‘our perfect consummation and bliss, both in body and soul’ comes only at ‘the general Resurrection in the last day’. Our share in the Resurrection is what is hid for is with Christ in God. 

Why does it matter that ‘we believe in the resurrection of the body’, not just for Christ, but for ourselves? If one has experienced great suffering in the body, or if one has struggled with poor health, or simply the trials of growing old, one may be tempted, like the Greeks to whom St Paul spoke in Athens, to see the body as a cage, better left behind. The poet Dante, in his Paradiso, gives one of the best answers to the why it matters. In the Heaven of the Sun, Dante speaks to King Solomon about the resurrection of the body. Solomon, is the traditional author of the Song of Songs, the great love song of the soul longing for God, of the Bride seeking the Bridegroom Jesus Christ, of each one of us seeking that life which is hid with Christ in God.

According to Dante, the souls in paradise are already robed in bliss, but when they rise again with their bodies, they will be more blessed still. But how is this possible? Hearing Dante’s question, the souls around him dance with more fervour and zeal, and Solomon answers on their behalf:

When, blessed and glorified,
the flesh is robed about us once again, 

we shall be lovelier for being whole. 

We shall be lovelier for being whole. The soul is not complete without the body, and the body is dead without the soul. God is pure spirit, but human beings are not whole and complete as purely spiritual beings. After death, the souls of the faithful are at rest. They enjoy the vision of God, even if this vision and this joy is not complete. But being in heaven as spirits is not our final destination. It is only at the resurrection of the body, when the bodies which we once had are changed into a spiritual body, to be like the glorious body of Christ, that we shall be whole, ‘more perfectly ourselves’, and lovelier for being whole. 

Does this mean that the resurrection of the body is only a hope for an impossibly distant future? We hope that we will rise with Christ at the last day, our perfect consummation and bliss, but even now, we are risen with him. What does this mean? Perhaps it will be more clear if we consider what a denial of the Resurrection of the Body would mean about the things which give us joy now. For those who believe in the Resurrection of the body, the happy meal with family and friends, the cup of tea or glass of wine, our attachment to particular places and particular people, little pleasures help us to find the life which is hid with Christ in God. To live as a people who believe in the resurrection of the body ‘is to love Bag End and the beer from a particularly good harvest’; to love a human being is to love the body; ‘To love the body is to love the small, the local, the particular. It is to love those things enjoyed by the body’. C S Lewis describes these day to day pleasures as ‘shafts of the glory’ and ‘channels of adoration’ which reveal our Risen life. To reject the resurrection of the body is to deny something important in these creature comforts. If we are destined to be pure spirit, our delight in a beautiful garden or a beautiful landscape, as well as our delight in the meal with friends and little pleasures are just distractions, whistling against the dark, fleeting things which may make life less painful, but which don’t tell us about the lives which our hid with Christ in God. But to believe in the resurrection of the body means that we expect the things which delight us in the body to help us to find the life which is hid with Christ in God. It is the belief in the Resurrection of the Body which makes it possible for the images of love and springtime in the Song of Songs to speak to us of the love of each of us for the Bridegroom Jesus Christ: ‘Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone; The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come ... the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away’ (Song of Solomon 2.11-13). For those who know that they are risen with Christ, this is an invitation to find the life which is hid with Christ in God. For the Greeks to whom St Paul spoke in Athens, for whom the body is a shell to be discarded and left behind, this is just poetic fancy, singing against the dark. 

In the words of Hillaire Belloc, modified slightly by Bp Robert Barron, ‘Wherever the Catholic sun doth shine, / There’s laughter and [music] and good red wine’.

Belloc’s words also help us to make sense of the strange turn in St Paul’s words to the Colossians and to us. ‘Red wine’ is not only a way to find our lives hid with Christ in God, the same red wine can be the path to destruction, family break-down and misery. We could say the same for many of the comforts which delight us – they can lead us to apprehend the spiritual riches which are ours in Christ Jesus, or they can send us on a path to darkness. Our perfect consummation and bliss is in the resurrection of the body, but it is not merely sensual. The Resurrection life does not consist in more food, more drink, more of whatever thrills us: ‘It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body’.  The ‘earthly body’, thanks be to God, is not the same as the ‘heavenly body’.  ‘We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed’; this ‘mortal must put on immortality’ when ‘Death is swallowed up in victory’ (1 Cor 15). So says St Paul, Mortify – put to death on the cross – your members which are upon the earth; fornication, uncleanness, inordinate affection, evil concupiscence, and covetousness, which is idolatry. We cannot leave behind the disciplines of Lent in Lent. We will keep the feast, we will celebrate, and our celebrations can help us to find the life which is hid with Christ in God. And yet, our lives are hid with Christ; the spiritual disciples reveal what is hidden in what is right in front of us. As the goodness, the wisdom, and the love of our Risen Lord possess us more and more, we will find that life which is hid in him. 

Let us cast our cares and concerns upon him; he is able to bear them. And let us seek, on this great day, and the days to come, the life which is hid for us with Christ in God. The winter is past, the rain is over and gone, our Risen Lord speaks to us: ‘Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away’, and in this coming away, in this dying, the things which delight us now may be channels of adoration and a path of find the life which is hid with Christ in God. 

Bishop Lawrence Cancels Services for Entire Diocese of SC. UPDATED

Again, I hesitate to be critical of churches who decide to cancel services for a time.  And some, such as large churches in highly infected cities, probably should.

For example, Pusey House has with sadness shut down for a time, likely the rest of term at least.  But they have little choice given government directives and given that Oxford, a very international and mobile community, is especially vulnerable to the coronavirus. Please join me in praying for Pusey House and Oxford.

But the decision of Bishop Mark Lawrence to cancel services for at least two Sundays for the entire Anglican Diocese of South Carolina has me scratching my head.   The Carolinas have a low infection rate at this time.  Some of the parishes in the diocese are small and in small towns.  Their risk is low, and people going to those churches likely interact with each other anyway.  

Besides do not the parishes have enough wisdom to decide for themselves?

And people need the church now more than ever even if they do not see that although many do.  Comprehensively cancelling Sunday services gives the false impression that it’s all just optional.  It tells people that they do not really need us all that much.  And at least in some cases, it is a disservice to those who know their need of the comfort and strengthening of corporate Sunday worship.

Yes, I may be a bit harsh there, and I probably just angered some people.  I respect that.  But Bishop Lawrence’s decision seems overreaching at best to me.

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UPDATE:

Bishop Lawrence has posted an open letter about this decision.

Epiphany Mishmash

There is disorderly confusion and even some contention on how the church should observe the first month of so of each new year.  Fr. Hunwicke goes into some of that with accompanying liturgical history.

My two cents, which is about what it’s worth:

Don’t turn Christ-centered holy days into Mary-centered holy days. I’m confident the BVM herself would agree.  So February 2^nd is the Presentation of Christ in the Temple, not The Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary.  That sounds like she’s visiting a beauty salon anyway.  (By the way, guess who is scheduled to preach a sermon that day?)  And if anyone dare calls it Groundhog Day or even Super Sunday – well, what do you think vergers are for?

I usually am a die hard about celebrating holy days on their proper day, not on the nearest Sunday as the weak and the Roman do.  So Epiphany is today, January 6^th, thank you.  However, I concede that some years it is not practical for most parishes to be so stubborn. This year, with Epiphany being on a Monday, is one of them.  But, hey, if you can get people to come to church today, then God bless you and them!  

So celebrating Epiphany yesterday was fine this year.  My parish did a blessed mishmash and celebrated both Epiphany and the 2^ndSunday After Christmas yesterday.  Celebrating both Christmas and Epiphany – it’s hard to beat that.  Even better for those who can bring in people on a Sunday night is what Pusey House did – an Epiphany Eve service, a tradition going back to the medieval Sarum rite and long before.  

I heartily agree with Fr. Hunwicke that the traditional Sunday lessons for Epiphany should be done every year.  An Epiphany that omits either the Baptism of Christ, the Coming of the Magi, or the Wedding at Cana just isn’t right. 

But (You might want to sit down for this.) there is an innovation to which I am sympathetic.  The Church of England’s Common Worship has January 1^st as Holy Name Day.  That makes sense as during his circumcision is when Jesus was named.  It neatly solves the past juggling around of Holy Name Day and gives January 1^st a name that does not make men cross their legs.

But however you observe these days of the New Year, may you be blessed in doing so free from those looking down their liturgical noses at you.  I certainly will not do so – I promise.

Christmas at Pusey House

The Chapter of Pusey House has been expanding its services and activities outside of term.  This was well underway when I visited last year.  When I arrived before the Michaelmas Term, they had already been doing weekday morning mass for a week or more.  And this year, they had a full slate of worship for Holy Week and Easter (which always falls between the Hilary and Trinity Terms).

Now, in response to pious requests, they are venturing into having services for the end of Advent and for Christmas.  For those who may be in or near Oxford during this blessed time, the details from the Sacristan follow. Do note that you may need to time your arrival for when the front door is open.

You’re welcome.  And have a Happy Christmas.

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Morning Prayer & Mass - Saturday 21st December, St Thomas Day (tomorrow), 10:00am in Chapel of the Blessed Sacrament

All are most welcome to join us for Morning Prayer (10:00am) and Mass (10:25am) tomorrow morning, as we commemorate St Thomas and the transformation of his doubt to faith. 

Please note that the front door will only be open from 9:45-10:05am and 10:20-10:25am for each service, so please factor this into your arrival.

Christmas Services at Pusey House next week

- 23 December, O Emmanuel,  Monday,  Morning Prayer 8:40, Mass 9 am, Evensong 5:30 pm

- 24 December, Tuesday, Morning Prayer 8:40, Mass 9 am, Evensong 5:30 pm, 

Midnight Mass, 11:30 pm. Carols will be sung from 11:15 pm.

- 25 Dec, Evensong, 5:00 pm (door open 4:45 to 5:05)

- 26th December, St Stephen's Day 10 am Morning Prayer, Mass, 10:20 

- 27th, St John the Evangelist, 10 am Morning Prayer, Mass, 10:20

- 28th December The Innocents, 10 am Morning Prayer, Mass, 10:20

For the Midnight Mass on Tuesday, the front door will be open from 11:00-11:45pm.

For services on 26,27, 28, Please note that the front door will only be open from 9:45-10:05am and 10:20-10:25am for each service, so please factor this into your arrival.

Peter Toon’s Last Days

Last week in Oxford, as part of the proceedings accompanying the Peter Toon Memorial Lecture, hosted by The Prayer Book Society and Pusey House, the Rev’d Tony Noble preached the sermon at Evensong. Noble happens to be Peter Toon’s last rector, and he began his sermon by telling of his time with Fr. Toon, including administering last rites:

I first met Peter Toon about 12 years ago, when I was Rector of All Saints, San Diego. I knew of him as an evangelical scholar, writer & defender of the 1662 Book of Common Prayer. 

It was a Saturday night & my phone rang. The voice said, “Is that Fr Noble?”. I replied, Yes. “I understand that you use Rite 1 with catholic additions.........how close to the Prayer Book are your Services?”, he asked. I said that the 8 am Mass was mostly from the Prayer Book. 

Next morning Peter & his wife, Vita, attended the 8 am Mass. he introduced himself & I felt quite honoured that such a notable evangelical had attended my church. They continued to attend faithfully every Sunday. Thus began a pastoral relationship which became a friendship. 

Peter described himself as an evangelical catholic & his great theme was that the Anglican church was “reformed catholic”. He believed that the 1662 BCP was the foundation document for this understanding. I enjoyed our theological discussions & listening to him. 

Peter came to San Diego for health reasons & to be near his family. In due course his health declined. I visited him with Holy Communion in hospital & at home. Then came the day. It remember it well - it was a Saturday & St Mark’s day. I had just finished saying our usual Saturday Mass & the phone rang. It was Vita, saying the time was near for Peter to go to his Lord. 

I got the Blessed Sacrament & Holy Oil & drive to their home. Upon arrival Peter asked for the Last Rites “in your tradition”. I was humbled to be asked by this great evangelical scholar to administer the last rites. It was a grace-filled experience for me. 

I spent the rest of the morning with Peter, listening to his favourite hymns on an old cassette player, occasionally praying or reading the bible. In the afternoon I went home to prepare for Sunday. About 8 pm the phone rang - Vita telling me that Peter had passed. I went over & Vita had lovingly dressed Peter in his robes. His instructions were that I should commend him using the 1662 Burial Office, which was typed out in Peter’s non-nonsense way. 

It was a privilege to have ministered to Peter & his family. 

This and the remainder of Noble’s winsome sermon may be downloaded from the recent sermons page on the Pusey House site. (If you are reading this some time in the future and the sermon is no longer there, try the sermon archive page.)

Oxford Commemoration of Martyrdom of Cranmer This Thursday

This sounds like an excellent day put on by The Prayer Book Society.  If I were near Oxford at this time, I would certainly go.  For those who can make it to Oxford this Thursday:

Commemoration of the Martyrdom of Thomas Cranmer, March 21^st, 2019

PROGRAMME

11.00  Mattins
           St Michael at the North Gate, Cornmarket Street, Oxford
           Officiant:    The Revd Anthony Buckley
                             Vicar, St Michael at the North Gate
           Preacher:   The Revd Marcus Walker
                              Rector, St Bartholomew the Great, London
Followed by procession to the martyrdom site in Broad Street and then wreath-laying on the Martyrs’ Memorial

12.30  Lunch (I do not know if they have openings for their planned lunch, but there are a number of excellent lunch spots nearby.)
                       Balliol College, Broad Street

Afternoon programme at Pusey House, St Giles, Oxford

2.00     ‘I believe in the English Reformation’
             The Revd Dr Rob Wainwright
             Chaplain, Oriel College

Tea/coffee

4.00     ‘The Reformation and the Oxford Movement’
             The Revd Dr George Westhaver
             Principal, Pusey House

5.00     Evensong

Oxford and Charles, King and Martyr

I will get it out of the way that, although I venerate Edward the Confessor and Henry VI, I am not a devotee of Charles I.  I will leave it at that out of consideration for a number of my Anglo-Catholic friends and because my opinion on his worthiness is not that important anyway.

At the same time, one of the venerable charms of Oxford is its devotion to Charles I.  Statues and portraits of him are all over the University on college quads, in libraries, in dining halls, in chapels, and more.  And that although he “borrowed” most of the colleges’ silver plate to mint coins!  There is even a window in a college chapel in which the face of Jesus looks suspiciously like Charles.

It is as if Oxford, which was Charles’ de facto capital during the Civil War, never really fully recognized his defeat in said war.  It is a perpetual, very civilized rebellion of the elite, a refusal to give in to defeat along with a willingness to forgive Charles’ errors, even the silver.  As far as the University of Oxford is concerned, Charles I remains and always will be their king.

And in case one thinks I am waxing a bit much about an unwillingness to bother to take down statues and portraits no one cares about anymore, I urge such impious skeptics to repent and get thee to Pusey House tomorrow at 6:30pm for a High Mass for “Charles, King and Martyr.”  See for yourself Oxonian devotion to His Sacred Majesty, King Charles the First, of Glorious Memory.

Unusual Takes on Epiphany Readings from Pusey House

A friendly tip: when one listens to a sermon from the current Principal of Pusey House, do not allow your mind the usual drifting. Otherwise, you will surely miss something. For George Westhaver’s sermons are brief, fast-paced, and packed!

And so it is with his first sermon of Hilary Term this past First Sunday after Epiphany (the text of which may be found on the Pusey House recent sermons page).  His unusual takes on two Epiphany readings are especially edifying.

On the Gospel from the end of Luke 2, Dr. Westhaver suggests that the wisdom of the 12-year-old Jesus may have come more from his being unclouded from sin than from his divine nature.

This had not occurred to me.  But it is in line with Dr. Pusey’s view, noted in Westhaver’s DPhil thesis, that sin can and does cloud the intellect.  Accordingly, Westhaver in his sermon contends, “We don’t know what a human mind free from the pollution of sin is capable of.”

Then he presents the anxious search of Mary and Joseph for the boy Jesus as a type of our search for Him.  This, too, is an unusual take today but in line with Dr. Pusey’s thinking.  For, as the aforementioned thesis examines, Pusey advocated a revival of typological interpretation of scripture and rightly thought our study of scripture is impoverished if we are not alert for types.  Westhaver’s take in his sermon demonstrates how types can enrich interpretation:

The events of the Gospel are not just stories about Him, they are stories about us. We should not be surprised that before Christ has fully grown up within us, before he has fully taken possession of us, that he may appear to be lost to us. We find ourselves in the situation of the bride in the Song of Songs, ‘I sought him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not. I will rise now, and go about the city in the streets, and in the broad ways will I seek him whom my soul loveth’.^[1]  The experience of the saints through the ages has been that there are times when Christ seems lost to us, and the only way to find him is with a kind of struggle and anxiety. 

The Gospel does give us some pointers to help us in the search. We may still expect to find our Lord in his temple, His Father’s House, in the place of worship, not only there, but certainly there. We don’t need to be afraid of our questions and doubts – He will listen to us with the same attention he gave the Doctors, his attention is His love. We can also expect him [to] address us with penetrating questions, His love for us, questions which are no less difficult than the journey, questions which are part of the answers He will give us, also in Love. 

Turning to the Gospel for the Feast of Epiphany itself, the sermon also uses Herod and the travels of the Magi as types.  Herod represents our fallen selfish nature that prefers King Me to King Jesus.  And, as the Magi were directed to avoid Herod after they met Jesus, so we need to avoid selfish grasping King Me after we meet King Jesus.

Herod is not just a figure in history. We too have to avoid Herod, because we all have something of Herod in us.  Herod did not want to have a rival, and it is part of our condition that we don’t want to have another king, even a king as wise and as good as Christ. Even after we have seen and adored Christ, we still have something of Herod in us, and so we must avoid our Herod-nature.  If we want to the transformed minds which share in the divine freedom and light, then we need to turn away from the Herod-nature in us.

Did I mention George Westhaver’s sermons are packed?  So do read it for yourself.  And, as you are able, avail yourself of the wealth of erudition and activities at Pusey House, both past and present.

Yes, Hilary Term is off to a very good start at Pusey House.

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[1]Song 3.1-2

Understanding Scripture and Righteous Living – a Two-Way Street

With this being the week of Bible Sunday in Advent, I think it a good time to mention something of import I noticed while studying in Oxford this past Michaelmas Term.  Dr. George Westhaver, Principal of Pusey House, in his thesis on Pusey’s lectures on “Types and Prophecies of the Old Testament,” notes at length that Pusey considered righteous living and right interpretation of scripture to be inseparable.  And not just that faithfully studying scripture aids righteousness, but that righteousness is necessary to the study and interpretation of scripture.

Yes, Pusey clearly thought this applied to the scholarly sphere.  He was at times frank in attributing immorality as one of the causes of the rise of rationalism in the scholarly study of the Bible.  He would even name names as he did in the case of Johann David Michaelis: “Deep insight into religion were indeed inconsistent with the intemperate habits and low moral character of Michaelis.”

I had not thought much about unrighteousness clouding one’s ability to understand scripture.  But now that Dr. Westhaver has brought Pusey’s contentions to my attention, I am now seeing that scripture contends that time and again.  Of course, a classic passage is Romans 1:18ff.  Right of the beginning of St. Paul’s withering indictment of mankind he states men “by their unrighteousness suppress the truth.”  And because they reject God and his righteousness, they become “futile in their thinking” as God gives “them up to a debased mind.”

If my mind were not debased by jetlag at the moment, I could surely post any number of other scriptures along these lines.  I know I keep coming across them in my Bible study now that I am more alert to them.  But to those who wish to study and even teach scripture and its interpretation, this is all the more incentive to live right, is it not?  Even if only God knows our unrighteous thoughts and dealings, others will be affected as our study and teaching become a cloudy and polluted stream.

I have not seen this for some years, but some Bibles, particularly King James Bibles, used to state at the front, “This Book will keep you from sin, and sin will keep you from this Book.” I used to laugh at that as old fashioned, but I now see there is a lot of truth in that. Dr. Pusey and scripture itself contend that prevalent sin can keep us from rightly understanding that Book as well.

Front Porch Ministries at Pusey House

At the Reformed Episcopal Church’s past General Council, our Presiding Bishop Ray Sutton encouraged us to do “front porch ministries” – ministries, low pressure events, groups, and just good fun that attracts people through the church doors that normally would not come.  The hope, of course, is that people, once in and making new friends, would feel more comfortable coming to church and that some would end up getting more involved.  (At the same time, one should provide ministries and opportunities to people for the love of God and of them. Invitations to get more involved should be timely and low pressure, not suffocating.)

In my term here, now coming to an end, at Oxford, I’ve seen front porch ministries work very well at Pusey House.  Just one example is their Scriptorium.

Begun earlier this year, the Scriptorium is very simple.  On Tuesdays and Thursdays (now expanding to Wednesdays as well by popular demand), people may come to the Pusey House library for a structured time of study and work.  We begin at 9:25am with a very brief time of prayer and reflection, then for as much of the day as they like until 5:15 or so, students may write or study quietly together at tables or separately elsewhere in the library. There are tea breaks at 11pm and 3pm and a (free) sandwich lunch break at 1pm.

And that is pretty much it. I know that may not sound terribly exciting.  But many like the combination of structure, quiet company, and social breaks in studying.  The numbers coming have grown markedly - which pleases the Librarian.  And some of those end up getting involved in other ways at Pusey House.

We had a notable example of that last night.  David Bennett first came to Pusey House through Scriptorium.  He ended up liking the place so much that he asked if he could do the book release at Pusey House for his book A War of Loves: The Unexpected Story of a Gay Activist Discovering Jesus.  To their credit, the House chapter decided to take the risk of controversy and said yes; and the release event last night went very well bringing in around eighty people.  That included some who disagreed with Bennett’s thinking during the Q and A, but all disagreement was civil and respectful and contributed to the discussion.

And that is just one example and far from the only time this term that Pusey House has been darn right crowded.  Movie nights with discussion following have brought in people, including two young women that came back a week later for our Advent service.  Lectures have brought in an interesting variety. And there’s more.  (And it does not hurt that Pusey House is often generous in serving food and sometimes serves a drink or two as well.)

By the way, if you are in or will be in or near Oxford, I recommend getting on the Sacristan’s e-mail list to be informed of events.  For that, e-mail pusey dot sacristan at stx dot ox dot ac dot uk .

So I’ve been impressed beyond expectations during my term at Pusey House.  One reason is the variety of events that the house has going on and all the different people that attracts.  I’ve long loved Pusey House, but now it has become a very busy and often crowded place, even noisy at times.  Good! I suspect the Lord is using that to make His Kingdom just a bit more crowded, too.

On Christ the King Morning

After eleven years, I again find myself in Oxford on Christ the King Sunday.  And, yes, I will celebrate it again at Pusey House.

As I woke up, I thought of how Christ is King and is high and lifted up.  Yet he is very present, a very present help by His Holy Spirit and by the Sacrament among any number of other gracious ways.

I can never get over how wonderful that is.  It is too wonderful for me.