An Ecumenical Moment

Tonight, for many Christians, is known as fat Tuesday. Why? As the final night before Lent, at least in the Anglican tradition, this is when people would take all the fat in their house and make pancakes. There were pancake races, lots of eating. This tradition has survived, and tonight at 5 I'll be eating pancakes with the rest of my parish. (Mardi gras, incidentally, means fat tuesday also, and some groups celebrate this with much more than pancakes).

Tomorrow, of course, begins the great, and for many solemn, season of Lent. The forty days before Easter (not counting Sundays) when those awaiting baptism used to be catechized, or instructed, and now a time when some Christians actually fast, eating just one full meal, and two very small meals, and no meat. Others give up something else; for Episcopals, it's not uncommon to hear booze, chocolate, tv, etc., as the thing to be set aside (we really are Catholic-lite). It's also not uncommon for Episcopals to embrace some positive thing instead, begin attending a small bible study, or spend some personal time in prayer or reading scripture.

I probably go too far toward the anti-ascetic; I distrust all denials of the body's needs. Not that I induldge every impulse, far from that, I'd be writing this from San Quentin if that were so. But I admit I've never given anything up for Lent in the few years since I've been attending a liturgical church. This year, I am doing something positive, though. I'm joining a 'welcome to anglicanism' class which will prepare me for confirmation when the bishop visits after Easter. Though I'm on vestry, am now senior warden of my parish, I've never been confirmed.

Besides (and perhaps unwisely) distrusting asceticism, I despise denominationalism. Christians are those who believe Christ is who he said he was. We are those who, besides being jacked-up like the rest of the human race, worship him as some form of creator-judge-savior-deity. Beyond that, the rest of church division is mostly style, taste, and plenty of arrogant self-righteous error. I have no special loyalty to the Episcopal church; I like many things about it and I've chosen to attend one, but truly, Christians are growing in many denominations all over the world. I used to believe one had to 'pray the prayer,' undergo the personal experience of conversion stressed by evangelicals, what we now call 'born again' faith. Maybe so. In my college days we'd say things like, 'oh, this guy is catholic bro but we're praying he comes to christ.'

Yet, as usual, I had no idea what I was saying. Because for millions of Christians, ritual is faith. When someone bows his head as the cross is carried down the center aisle in the liturgical procession, is that not, for many, an expression of genuine reverence? An act which, even once, could denote a saving faith? The gesture could be rote response, but I'm here to say it's not always rote, and also to say that prayer, memorizing scripture, and talking the born-again talk can certainly be rote; theological precision, which a few churches still believe is the center of christian experience, can fall hideously short of genuine love and faith. I know from my own bonehead experience.

The church needed reforming when it was reformed, but some reformers threw out the entire liturgical tradition, replacing it, often, with asceticism, legalism, and three hour sermons twice on Sunday. I'm not kidding. Read about Calvin's Geneva and tell me if you want to live there. (Of course I acknowledge the brilliance and importance of Calvin the person.) My point is that we should all be able to worship how we want. If that means lighting a candle, reading responsively, and taking communion to the ancient words, 'the body of christ, the bread of heaven...the blood of christ, the cup of salvation,' or singing praise songs for thirty minutes off the overhead projector before the 45 minute four point sermon exegesis, great. Both work. Christians distrust, and misunderstand, each other too much; it's very sad.

Oh I know about the doctrinal differences, and not just the silly ones, like do we baptize by full immersion or sprinkle, do we dunk one or three times, forward or backward; which hand goes over the other when communion is received, do we use wine or grape juice, must the entire church take communion at the same time or one at a time? These are small concerns. There are big questions: does baptism save the soul and make one part of the body of christ (as I believe my church teaches, and as the church believed for centuries); is christ re-sacrificed on the altar at communion, does the bread truly become his body, etc.

I've written about baptism, a little, before; that post came from my own very limited perspective and I don't even remember it being all that good. But what about the supper? Aren't those who hold to the Real Presence in the elements idiotic idolatrous heretics?

We should all be careful. For one thing (and I can't remember if I said this on the blog before or if it's sitting in a draft someplace waiting to be posted, apologies) whatever happens to the elements on the catholic or episcopal altar is exactly what happens to them at the baptist church and the church of christ. How could this not be? And we really don't know what, if anything, happens. We do have Paul's tremendous words in I Cor. 11, coming, of course, after his very strange comments about hair and head coverings. These strongly indicate that reverence for the elements, or their action, or their spiritual value, is as ancient as Paul at least. When taken in faith, how can they not nourish us spiritually? And how do the doctrinal differences in each denomination really affect the individual who comes to the table/rail in faith? There are communion things in my own church I don't like; for example, a priest must be present for communion to occur. But that doesn't stop me from worshipping, from being nurtured, at my parish.

What is important is that Christians respect each other's disciplines. Some episcopals have, I've been happy to discover, a much more rational view of scripture than the inerrantists, but of course they, I, could be wrong. Welcome to the vague world of human knowledge. Epistemology for the blind.

As Lent begins, I want to be tolerant of Christians who express their faith in diverse ways, from the rosary to the heart-thumping altar call as the organ music swells. Why not? I am dust, and to dust I will return. It's humbling to think of that; it is a certain truth. Tonight I'll pancake, tomorrow I'll be ashed and begin my class towards confirmation. I am excited, very lucky really, to be taking part in this ancient process. Jesus, hopefully, will heal my scared and angry doubter's heart just a bit more. But I'll be one of millions he touches over the next few weeks, many of whom never will observe lent in any way; some will never have heard of it.

Peace to all



Comments

Three cheers for Christian unity!
Tenax said…
Sherry,

thanks. Hope I didn't sound pompous.

t
FunKiller said…
I must admit there are things I miss from my Catholic youth. The icons (in moderation of course), the ashes and the sense of history, of being connected to an ancient past. There is some of that in mainline Protestantism, but not like our Catholic brethren experience. I echoe Sherry's call for unity. Peace and blessings this Lenten season.

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