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Showing posts with label Church History. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Church History. Show all posts

Monday, November 27, 2017

I Never Knew That



I’m trying pretty hard not to be a church calendar snob.  Honestly, I don’t even know how I got to be this way… how I began to care about the church calendar, at all (about which I knew nothing for the vast majority of my life).  I think, in some ways, it is a classic case of learning something new that resonates deeply and wanting everyone else in the world to have that excitement, as well.  But let’s return to…  I’m not too fond of being a snob (period), and it certainly doesn’t sit well with me to be a snob in the Christian/Church sense.  That just never ends well for anyone!  (But please take note of the fact that my seven year old is really upset about crosses popping up at nativity scenes.)

I did, however, have an exciting moment several weeks back, and I want to share it. 

I was sitting at a table, sharing a meal, and talking about the lectionary (because that’s totally normal, right) when a friend of mine who has been a part of the church community for a lifetime said, “I never knew that God’s people all over the world were studying the same Scriptures, week after week, until you started teaching us about that!” 

We’re talking a matter of days, here, friends!  She had been in church her whole life, and she had never heard anyone talk about the shared study of Scripture, across the board… across geographic and cultural and denominational boundaries… until a few days earlier!  And let’s be real, up until a few years ago, neither had I.

She was excited!  I was excited!  And it’s not because I have some legalistic need to dictate which Scripture should be used at all times by all people.  It’s because this is community!  This sharing of the same words (and the same Word) allows us to connect with people… globally… every single week (and dare I suggest every single day, if we also consume the daily office).

Someone else at the table chimed in…  “Just our denomination, right?”

Um… not quite…

“But not Catholics, right?”

Insert the part where I try not to die, because yes… definitely Catholics…

“Oh…”

Now let’s be clear…  I’m pretty sure the RCL (publically released in 1994, although preceded by others and tracing the history of reading common texts all the way back to the early church) is not synonymous with salvation (sigh of relief for all the people who were born and died before I was in high school), but I do want to underscore the significance of commonality in community, because we live in a culture steeped in individualism, and I think there’s something to the idea that God might actually be saying the same things to all of us. 

This helps to dispel the “us and them” myth.  It brings us together as one people.  It makes us a village as opposed to an island.  Maybe it even fosters compassion for the other, because it’s more difficult to turn away from our brothers and sisters when we’re looking at their faces, and we do that when we’re gathered in the same sacred space—physically present or not.  Maybe that’s (at least part of) why continuity matters…
 
L.

Thursday, August 11, 2016

All That Stuff God Does



I was recently talking with someone about the lack of biblical literacy that is sometimes prevalent in our current culture.  I'm somewhat hesitant to admit this, because it sounds more critical than I intend it to be.  The truth is, in addition to lacking biblical knowledge, most kids entering school are also unfamiliar with nursery rhymes and campy songs and fairy tales (of the not made into movies variety).  So, to be fair, we have a literacy problem that spans many genres, but since it's Thursday Theology time I am going to focus on biblical illiteracy for the moment.

It was not that long ago that I first recognized this as a problem.  I was leading a group of Bible quizzers through the book of Acts, and when we came to Stephen's speech to the Sanhedrin (see Acts 7), I went into practice with a renewed sense of excitement, because I just knew that even the kids who never studied were going to have a successful evening.  The vast majority of them were kids who had grown up in the church, in Sunday School, walking through those doors every time they opened for any event at all... heck... walking through those doors more frequently than my kids who have the distinct privilege (or curse... or whatever) of having two theologian parents!  It's the history of Israel.  Every church kid has seen it on flannel graph, ad nauseam, right? 

Yeah...  they didn't know the stories.

For whatever reason, I am in a battle with the daily office this week.  As I scanned the references, this morning, I thought to myself, "Oh...  it's going to be one of those days when I re-read about Israel and the stories and the covenants... again... sigh..."  I'm honestly not completely sure what my problem is, but I know it has something to do with forgetting all of the incredible things God has done when I should be remembering.

I should be remembering that God keeps promises.  I should be remembering that God draws near.  I should be remembering that my own identity is rooted in being the beloved, created Imago Dei.  I should be remembering who God is.                    
Psalm 105:4, "Look to the Lord and his strength; seek his face always" (NIV).

I am embarrassed to admit that I have often looked the wrong way, lately.  And so here I am, confidence shaken like it has rarely been, desperately trying to lift my head and find God's face, taking a step back to remember that the story is real and somehow... mercifully... I am still a part of it.

L.

Saturday, September 19, 2015

The Anointing of the Sick: Magic, Faith, or Sacrament?



The following is the first in a series of guest posts
as my family embarks on a much needed vacation!
This post was written by my new friend, Walt Gessner,
whom I met through my husband, Phil,
who met Walt when they were in the same cohort at
Northwest Nazarene University, studying Spiritual Formation.
Walt gives you a little bit more of his background
in the post that follows.
Thank you for sharing with us, Walt!

I am aware that those of us that have aligned our work and ministry with the Church of the Nazarene have varied opinions and thoughts in regard to the anointing of the sick. A mentor and very good pastor friend of mine does not like to use oil in praying for the sick. His position is a well-reasoned and understandable one: many people that sit in the pew will see the oil, receive the oil, and somehow missing the prayer in being healed will think that it was the oil that healed them. I guess he feels that many Christians do not have a very good grasp of the basic tenets of the Christian faith to recognize that the power is not in the oil, but in the one whom the oil represents: the Spirit of God.

Other Nazarenes that have a more conservative approach to theology and Christian living quickly pick up on the other name for the anointing of the sick, the Sacrament of Last Rights, and cast it aside as being “too Catholic,” and thus something that we Nazarenes best stay away from so that our theology and Christian living are not corrupted. I see their point, especially since our roots are in the Protestant stream of things. To be too Catholic might somehow pull us into that void of works over faith salvation, and thus we would fall into the trap of thinking our being good is being good enough to “make it to heaven.” It should be noted, however, that the anointing of the sick in the greater context of Christian history was practiced before the Roman Catholic Church became the Roman Catholic Church and was seen in terms of Christ’s healing of the sick and as a valid practice of the early church through the Apostle James.

Now before we go any further, I should explain that I am an ordained elder and pastor in the Church of the Nazarene, I hold a BAMin from Nazarene Bible College, two Masters degrees from Northwest Nazarene University (am I still allowed to admit that?), and am in the dissertation phase of a PhD from Regent University (an odd relationship where Fundamentalists and Pentecostals are bedfellows in the School of Divinity). My PhD will be in Theological Studies with a Christian History concentration – of course should I actually get the dissertation written and defended. My call and spiritual gifts are to be a pastor/teacher, and specifically, to encourage the body of Christ to be re-created in the image of God and ministry students to be spiritually formed in preparation, not simply complete a course of study for the piece of paper.

Why is it important to know my pedigree before we continue? Because I see sacrament in historical as well as ecclesiastical contexts; helping me at least to peel away the uninformed clichés that we often found our beliefs upon. Please don’t get me wrong. I do not feel that we are living less than Christian lives because of cliché. I do feel, however, that cliché has become the easier thing to preach and teach which is up and against good biblical exegesis and the exhortation to study to show one’s self approved. I also am forced to reconsider presupposition and allow the stories of the church to speak for themselves, even being willing to raise controversial questions at the expense of my own notions and temperament.

So why is the anointing of the sick a varied practice in the Church of the Nazarene? Really it comes down to that old saying, “In essentials unity, in non-essentials liberty, and in all things charity.” We Wesleyan types like this saying and attribute it to John Wesley, but it was probably something that was said before Wesley, but in principle was practiced by Wesley and was embraced by early Nazarenes.

The man that is considered the founder of the Church of the Nazarene, Phineas F. Bresee, was not a fan of the proponents of the Divine Healing Movement, which has its origins in the American Holiness Movement, but was not embraced by all Wesleyan leaning holiness folks – Bresee fell here. Before he set out and started that very first Church of the Nazarene in 1895, Bresee worked with a city holiness mission, Peniel Mission, in Los Angeles. At one point, Bresee got wind of the Mission’s inviting another holiness preacher by the name of A.B. Simpson (Simpson would become the founder of the Christian and Missionary Alliance) who was a divine healing proponent and considered an extremist. Whether coincidence or intentional, when Simpson agreed to come, Bresee pulled out and the Church of the Nazarene was born.

E.A. Girvin, a Bresee biographer, gives great insight into Bresee’s position on healing and of the anointing of the sick in writing:

I never knew a man who was freer from all forms of fanaticism, and from that presumption which so often masquerades under the guise of faith. He insisted upon our using all the means which were placed at our disposal, trusting God for the outcome, and giving Him the glory. While he frequently prayed for the healing of the sick, and his prayers were marvelously answered in many cases, he never anointed with oil. He would pray with and for those who desired to be anointed, but invariably have someone else do the anointing. His exegesis of the passage in James, referring to anointing the sick, was that the oil was used as a kind of medicine, and that we complied with that requirement when we gave to those who were ill the best remedies at our disposal. He claimed that God healed in all cases, whether means were used or not, and that healing was always divine healing.[1]

While Bresee had this position, it is also obvious that he considered divine healing a non-essential.

In October of 1907, the Church of the Nazarene would form a union with the Association of Pentecostal Churches of America, becoming the Pentecostal Church of the Nazarene. One of the leaders from the Association instrumental in the union was Hiram F. Reynolds. Reynolds did see divine healing as having an important place within the Holiness Movement having testified to being healed and sanctified after suffering a nervous breakdown in 1880.

To read the articles submitted by both Nazarenes and those of the Association in The Nazarene Messenger in 1906 and leading to the union in 1907, it is easily seen that one of the “issues” leading to the union was healing. Equally interesting is to read the reports published in The Beulah Christian, the official paper of the Association. In 1906, there were reports of healing and of supernatural occurrences at the college that would be the precursor to Eastern Nazarene College.

Why are these articles, testimonies and reports important to our talk? They are important because they reveal that unity, liberty, and charity were very much at the heart of the union. Our early foremothers and forefathers in Nazarenedom would not allow non-essentials to unhinge the greater mission: to proclaim scriptural holiness to the world. So, where Bresee was not a fan of the tenets of the Divine Healing Movement, he would not allow divine healing to be the divide of a holiness people. In fact, a statement on divine healing was added to the statement of union between the two formerly separate bodies now made one and called the Pentecostal Church of the Nazarene.

The anointing of the sick with oil whether one is comfortable with it or not, is indeed a valid practice within the Church of the Nazarene. If one believes that anointing with oil is an important “sacrament” (a Christ directed and biblically instructed practice of the church), then let those who desire to be healed call upon the elders (spiritual leaders) of the church, be anointed with oil, and prayed for in faith. If one should see the potential of spiritual downfall for the local gathering of Nazarenes in the practice, then let them still pray the prayer of faith, all in agreement, so that sins would be forgiven, bodies made whole, and spirits set free to be healed in heaven. If two Nazarenes disagree on the matter in fellowship, then let them commit themselves to unity, offering liberty, and sharing charity as sisters and brothers in Christ – for the Kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven. After all, this is our founding, this is our heritage.


[1]E. A. Girvin, Phineas F. Bresee: A Prince in Israel  (Kansas City: Beacon Hill Press, 1916; repr., Third, 1982), 377.

Saturday, June 20, 2015

What Do We Mean When We Use the Word Liturgical?



You should just know, upfront, that I've stolen much of this material from my friend Rich, who should have just written this post, himself.  There.  Now I feel less guilt.

For whatever reason, many Protestants get really squirmy when the conversation turns to liturgy.  I'm just finishing up a class on Christian History, and it's fascinating how deeply the reformation splintered the Church.  What's even more mind blowing is the fact that this wedge between Catholics and Protestants has continued to grow, over centuries, in large part because Protestants argued that everything must change.  We threw the holy water out with the bath water, friends.  And then we kept doing it in era after era after era...

And so we hear "liturgy" or "liturgical", and everyone panics, because we must be Catholic now.  We must have decided to reverse the Reformation.  (As a side note, would that really be that bad?  Wait.  Don't answer that.  We'll never get through this post.)

OK, actually, those last two paragraphs were mine.  Now I turn to plagiarism.

"Liturgical... really means all that we 'do' in our worship together.  Since the root is 'the work of the people,' it means that we all are liturgical, only some of us think through our liturgies more than others.  Even the most free church traditions have liturgies, and to be liturgical in its formal sense just means people who have a pattern of worship, which is really all of us."

Hmmm...  no kidding.

And yet, it seems that some people have confused "high church" with "liturgical" and "high church practices" with "sacramental practices".  I really like a lot of "high church" practices, but I haven't always deemed them synonymous with sacramental, although maybe there is a valid argument for this considering the differences we fleshed out between sacrament and sacramental in the earlier post, "How to Get Yourself Into Serious Trouble Regarding Sacraments".

"Typically, most practitioners of high church liturgy would nearly all call themselves 'sacramental,' because they view their liturgical actions as actual means of grace. In fact, I would say that many of us 'low church' folks are low church de facto because we do not see liturgical action as sacramental."

But, to be sacramental, something must only be a means of grace.  There are no other requirements.  It's really interesting how our symbols and icons even play a part in this.  Is the cross sacramental?  I don't mean the cross on which Jesus was crucified.  Clearly, it played a part in atonement, so yes, a means of grace, but I'm talking about the cross hanging at the front of your sanctuary.  Is it sacramental?  I think it could be.  What about the altar?  Sacramental?  Grace is often bestowed there.  So, why not?  Is it also liturgical?   Does your church employ it regularly in an order of worship?  Guess what, if you answered yes, I think the altar just became a part of liturgy.

Maybe liturgy is not as frightening as we think. 


Just for some additional perspective, I searched for synonyms for liturgy.  What I found added to my understanding about why this is all so confusing.  The list included: ritual, worship, service, ceremony, rite, observance, celebration, sacrament, tradition, custom, practice, rubric, and formal ordinance. 



OK, I lied.  Maybe liturgy is as frightening as we think, but not for the reasons we had imagined.  By connecting all of these words that actually carry vastly different meanings, we may have lost the definition of liturgy, altogether.  No wonder it's scary.  Navigating the unknown is like that.  Unless you like mystery.  Then you'll probably be OK.  Maybe that's exactly why I've decided that I like liturgy and sacraments and sacramentals.  If everything has the potential for carrying the grace of God, then the patterns of our lives really do become sacramental.  I think this type of thinking also tends toward more established rhythms and even ritualistic practices as we begin to resonate with the things that touch us most deeply, with grace, in the midst of worship and routine.    


L.