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some truly emergent devotional writing

Qoheleth believes there is a time when it is far better to think on death than life. If given a choice, he'd opt for a visit to the funeral home over an episode of Seinfeld. Proof? The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth (Ecclesiastes 7:4). In light of this text, I invite you to read a moving piece from John Donne's Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions (1623), XVII: Nunc Lento Sonitu Dicunt, Morieris - "Now, this bell tolling softly for another, says, to me: Thou must die."

Donne's "emergent occasion" is an ongoing struggle with serious illness. Before his life ends he will have buried a wife and six of twelve children. He writes from the depths and it shows. You're probably familiar with the phrase, "for whom the bell tolls," but see it placed within its very rich context.

Perchance he for whom this bell tolls may be so ill, as that he knows not it tolls for him; and perchance I may think myself so much better than I am, as that they who are about me, and see my state, may have caused it to toll for me, and I know not that.

The church is Catholic, universal, so are all her actions; all that she does belongs to all.

When she baptizes a child, that action concerns me; for that child is thereby connected to that body which is my head too, and ingrafted into that body whereof I am a member.

And when she buries a man, that action concerns me: all mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated; God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice; but God's hand is in every translation, and his hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves again for that library where every book shall lie open to one another.

As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come, so this bell calls us all; but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness.

There was a contention as far as a suit (in which both piety and dignity, religion and estimation, were mingled), which of the religious orders should ring to prayers first in the morning; and it was determined, that they should ring first that rose earliest.

If we understand aright the dignity of this bell that tolls for our evening prayer, we would be glad to make it ours by rising early, in that application, that it might be ours as well as his, whose indeed it is.

The bell doth toll for him that thinks it doth; and though it intermit again, yet from that minute that this occasion wrought upon him, he is united to God.

Who casts not up his eye to the sun when it rises? but who takes off his eye from a comet when that breaks out? Who bends not his ear to any bell which upon any occasion rings? but who can remove it from that bell which is passing a piece of himself out of this world? No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.

If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

Neither can we call this a begging of misery, or a borrowing of misery, as though we were not miserable enough of ourselves, but must fetch in more from the next house, in taking upon us the misery of our neighbours.

Truly it were an excusable covetousness if we did, for affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it. No man hath affliction enough that is not matured and ripened by it, and made fit for God by that affliction. If a man carry treasure in bullion, or in a wedge of gold, and have none coined into current money, his treasure will not defray him as he travels. Tribulation is treasure in the nature of it, but it is not current money in the use of it, except we get nearer and nearer our home, heaven, by it.

Another man may be sick too, and sick to death, and this affliction may lie in his bowels, as gold in a mine, and be of no use to him; but this bell, that tells me of his affliction, digs out and applies that gold to me: if by this consideration of another's danger I take mine own into contemplation, and so secure myself, by making my recourse to my God, who is our only security.

The Dispensational-Covenant Rift

I have finished the first couple chapters of The Dispensational-Covenant Rift: The Fissuring of American Evangelical Theology from 1936-1944 by R. Todd Mangum.  Mangum's basic thesis is that the break between the streams of Niagara Fundamentalism (the premil camp) and Reformed Presbyterian Fundamentalism (the amil camp) during this time frame represents a new schism between brethren who had formally known unity despite their doctrinal differences.  This is contra George Marsden and D.G. Hart who view Old School Presbyterians and New School Presbyterians as tolerating their differences in order to contend with modernism and then returning to their former contentions after separating from the mainline denominations.

Mangum's work is insightful for a number of reasons.  He deals with primary sources and documents at length; the footnotes make for good reading themselves.  In addition, Mangum has personally interviewed a number of key participants.  So for example, in an interview dated June 2, 1996, Allan MacRae regards as "preposterous" the idea that a contentious meeting of the Independent Board in November of 1936 contributed to J. Gresham Machen's early death.  Mangum not only covers the systematic-theological issues at play (Westminster Confessionalism vs. Scofield Dispensationalism), but also wrestles with the clash of personalities and socio-historical factors.  This is an area often overlooked by historians of Evangelicalism and Fundamentalism.   So for instance he writes:

...Just as when individuals have a "falling out," grievances are magnified and often projected onto what was "always true" in the relationship ("Well, you know, I always hated that about her!"), so likewise, such phenomena can be detected in sociological polarizations of greater proportions.  These phenomena increase and intensify when the new institutions and organizations created by such sociological divisions must compete for constituents and resources (p. 23).

In addition to those already mentioned, it is good to once again become acquainted with names like Buswell, Kuiper, Murray, Allis, Wilson and Van Til.  It is interesting to consider the mindset of men fresh from a fight to a figurative death with mainline Presbyterianism attempting to build a ship with room for all.  The fight had required men of a certain character, but as Mangum notes, those same qualities of panache and stubbornness did not make for smooth sailing when personalities clashed or social issues (like the use of alcohol) surfaced.

I am most interested in this read because my roots are traced directly to its source.  My parents began attending an independent Bible church in the 1960s founded by William Ashbrook, a man that left mainline Presbyterianism in the late 1930s, identified himself with Scofield dispensationalism, and established an independent church in 1941 in contrast to an Orthodox Presbyterian Church (Machen) or a Bible Presbyterian Church (McIntire).  Today, I pastor an independent Bible church in which some of the children of Machen have found a home.  We are wondering if those things that divided our fathers so many decades ago should continue to divide us.

robert sungenis

On the current edition of The White Horse Inn, Michael Horton interviews Robert Sungenis, President of Bellarmine Theological Forum (formerly Catholic Apologetics International).  Sungenis is an interesting character because he left the Catholic Church at age nineteen and moved within Protestant circles for several years, even attending Westminster Theological Seminary.  He has since returned to the Catholic Church and in this program gives the listener a good perspective on a Catholic view of tradition, infused righteousness (versus imputed righteousness), the sacraments, and purgatory.  Horton does an excellent job of asking questions and allowing Sungenis to talk.  He banters with Sungenis on a couple of points and scores well, but doesn't try to bury him. 

This program also includes an interview with church historian, Mark Noll, on his latest work, Is the Reformation Over (co-authored by Carolyn Nystrom).  Noll posits there are more reasons for dialog and hope of Catholic and Protestant bridge building than not.  He is not very convincing in this short segment.  Noll & Nystrom's work might best be read in conjunction with Norman Geisler's, Roman Catholics and Evangelicals: Agreements and Differences.

Recovering Mother Kirk: Reflections

This evening I found most of the entire first chapter of Hart's work in an essay at Touchstone here. You can decide if my summaries have done it justice.  The purpose of this post is to look back on the chapter and share some thoughts.

Hart is obviously appealing for low-church Presbyterians to move toward a high-church model.  This is removed from where we are as a free-church congregation.  I was raised in a non-denominational bible church founded by a man that came out of mainline Presbyterianism in the 1930's.  Many streams fed that first church:  revivalism, pietism, a loose form of Presbyterian polity mixed with Baptist congregationalism, fundamentalism, militant separatism, dispensationalism, an infrequent, but reverent observance of the Lord's table, and a mixture of Calvinism and Arminianism.   

The church that I pastor would be considered a third generation descendent of that church.  We are more reformed in doctrine, elder-rule in polity, more mildly dispensational, concerned for demonstrating both the purity and the unity of the church (realizing there is not one without the other), and baptistic in our view of the ordinances (not hung up on mode of baptism, though we practice immersion).  The list could be extended.

Having grown up in the "free-church" all my life, and having pastored for fifteen years (as an assistant for 8 yrs, and as an elder/pastor who is compensated for laboring in the word for 7 yrs--still a short time, I know), I find myself with several concerns for our local assembly.  Many of these have to do with finding a reference point outside of ourselves to which we are accountable, and that will sustain us in future generations. 

Of course, Christ is the Lord of the Church.  He is the Head of the Body, and we must be yielded to the Holy Spirit as we are led into truth through the process of study and illumination.  We must trust Him implicitly to be our Guide and Anchor.  The Word contains all the instruction we need for faith and practice; it is our inerrant and God-breathed authority.  We have the foundation of the Apostles and prophets upon which to build. 

It is just this foundation to which we find ourselves drawn, as well as to the work of others who have long labored in the same love.  Here is what we are finding important: 

--expositional preaching (dependent upon a second rate expositor and communicator at present)
--the maintenance of church discipline
--guarding a regenerate membership
--body life as expressed in small groups and "one another" relationships--here is where discipleship and accountable relationships can/should take place
--a more careful liturgy (praying scripture, confession, reciting the Apostle's Creed, moments of silence, music that is God-centered, theologically accurate, sung in a style appropriate to the occasion, and characterized by beauty and excellence to a significant degree, more frequent observance of the Lord's table, etc)
--a life lived transparently between two worlds (eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we live) from which one may witness authentically to the Gospel, etc.

We are far from Hart's high church model, but we are drawn to the roots of creed and confession.  We are not sacramental, but we want to repent of our self-sufficiency and lack of gospel-centeredness.  We are not denominational, but we are so radically independent, that the Church (capital C) is too far removed from our thoughts, prayers, and lives.  We do not believe that adopting a set liturgy or form will rejuvenate Christ's Body (either locally or more broadly), but we have been far too careless in how we worship our Lord and nurture faith in our community. 

Our congregation represents a breadth of church affiliations.  Though we are small, we have members and adherents from these groups:  ELCA, PCA, OPC, LCWS, SBC, Methodist, Roman Catholic, Mormon, Independent Baptist, Independent Bible, and unchurched.  I am sure there are others.  We enjoy the diversity in our group, but we also have a healthy unity around the creed and our core confession.  It enables us to be transparent about our differences where some denominations might demand uniformity.  I believe we have been able to draw from a number of denominational backgrounds because we are more careful in our liturgy.  Though we do not strictly follow the BCP, or the church year, or various rites, there is enough formality and carefulness in worship and philosophy of ministry to guard it, by God's grace, from becoming overly enthusiastic, programmatic, seeker-driven, or worldly.   

That is where we are in our journey.  There are some aspects of congregational life with which we are quite satisfied, but others that are burdensome and imbalanced.  For example, it will take some time to drive fundamentalism’s internal focus and fear out of our hearts so that we can truly love and give ourselves for those different than we are.  I appreciate the overall emphasis of Hart's work without sensing a need to adopt the high-church view he advocates. I don’t have reference points in his world (no doubt that blinds me to some of the implications of what he is saying). Some aspects of our theology won't let us go there anyway.  And at the end of the day, we don't want to replace a man-centered congregational life with a Spiritless dead orthodoxy (not that this is where high-church liturgy implicitly leads).  As others have noted before, we seek orthodoxy (right doctrine), orthopraxy (right practice--wisdom), and orthopathy (right affections).  God help us to find our way, but the point is, we tread where others have walked, and we do so on their shoulders.

Recovering Mother Kirk (pt 6)

    The last section of the first chapter of D.G. Hart's book, Recovering Mother Kirk, is entitled:  Church as Mother or Personal Trainer?  I must admit to a special affinity for the heading (for obvious reasons); it is a unique comparison (the previous five entries concerning the book can be found under this heading).

    Hart contrasts two ways in which congregants may view their local assembly, either as nurturer or coach.  If the latter, then church is a hub of activity in which "God requires good works to be performed."  While the citizens of Christendom go about the business of being good Christians in Vanity Fair, they stop in at the church once or twice a week to recharge their batteries, display their energy and enthusiasm, and get fired up through pep talks and personal enrichment classes.   If on the other hand, church is viewed as mother, pilgrims come to her seeking the grace of God through the ordained means of preaching, sacrament, and life under authority.  There is no life without an intimate relationship to her. 

    Hart rightly points out that one's view of the church is intimately connected to one's view of self.  "Chances are that an impoverished estimate of the church stems directly from an overly high estimate of one's self....Less confidence about our abilities and a greater recognition of our infirmities would lead to a different view of the church."  As an illustration to reveal our true heart's position, Hart wonders how desirous we are of regular observance of the Lord's Table.  Do we really believe that we stand in need of God's grace as revealed on the Cross (skip whether or not you believe real grace is offered in the partaking--my interjection not Hart's)?  If so, then that need will be expressed in a regular attendance at the Table, a need to be there.  Hart is critical of low-church Presbyterians who only celebrate the sacrament twelve times a year.  If the Israelites had ceased eating the manna because it was the same meal everyday, they would have perished in the wilderness. 

    Hart recognizes that simply adding forms or high-church liturgy to worship will not produce a dependence on mother church.  If we are to recover the idea of church as mother, then a change of heart is required.  Congregants "need to learn that the ministry of the church is a means of grace."  Correct words, forms, prayers, hymns, and sermons are essential, and God promises to use them, but "high-church liturgy requires a high-church piety."  Hart commends a return to the appetite Christ commends in John 6--a hunger for the very Bread of Life.

"For there is no other way to enter into life unless this mother conceive us in her womb, give us birth, nourish us at her breast, and lastly, unless she keep us under her care and guidance until, putting off mortal flesh, we become like angels" (John Calvin).

Recovering Mother Kirk (Not Mother Fundamentalism) (pt 5)

You can find the previous entries to this subject here (pt 1), here (pt 2), here (pt 3), and here (pt4). 

In D.G. Hart's work, Recovering Mother Kirk: The Case for Liturgy in the Reformed Tradition, he posits that those in the Reformed tradition accomplish the opening theme ("the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever") of the Westminster Shorter Catechism in one of three ways: by emphasizing doctrine, by stressing the comprehensiveness of the Reformed worldview to all of life, and by embracing a Reformed piety (experimental Calvinism).

I've noted in the former posts that Hart is contending for a high-church view of worship dedicated to a reformed liturgy.  Hart believes that many (most?) Presbyterian congregations have abandoned their high-church view of worship and replaced it with a low-church mentality.  The low-church tradition is the result of the influence of Puritanism, the effects of pietism, and an attachment to revivalism.

The influence of Puritanism:  The Puritans were champions of the regulative principle--the idea that only what is prescribed in Scripture should find place in our public worship, and that other forms, even though not sinful in themselves, should be excluded.  One of their primary motivations in adopting this viewpoint is the idea of individual conscience.  Since the order of worship is something in which everyone in attendance must participate, the church must be careful not to include extra-biblical elements that may offend some worshipers. Only scripture can bind the conscience, so only those elements of worship expressly commanded in scripture should be employed in the worship of God.   This is all well and good, but the Puritans also had an aversion to outside authority and disdained set forms of prayer and liturgy because they were thought to bind the consciences of those responsible for worship.  So the Puritans opposed the Book of Common Prayer and any hint of Catholic liturgy in worship, resulting in a loss of the liturgical uniformity that John Calvin encouraged.  It is ironic that Presbyterians find unity in theology (Westminster Confession) and polity (Form of Government and Book of Church Discipline), but not in liturgy. 

The effects of pietism and revivalism:  Hart believes the aversion to liturgical order for the sake of liberty of conscience is often a "smokescreen for an experiential piety that is at odds with the formality inherent in set liturgies."  He traces this current back to the revivals of the eighteenth century when the idea was propagated that sincerity and set forms were incompatible.  Hart quotes Charles Hodge regarding written prayers, "tend[ing] to formality, and [they] cannot be an adequate substitute for the warm outgoings of the heart moved by the spirit of genuine devotion."  The churches turned from set forms, tradition, and ordinances to an antiformalism expressed by "an affair of the heart" and a "yoke of enthusiasm." 

Hart holds this practice up to closer scrutiny.  If a church member can sing the words of a poet, read the words of an apostle, and hear the words of the pastor, why can they not pray the words of another?  Indeed, if our worship is going to be done decently and in order, we should pray in unison in the same manner we sing in unison, or I should embrace the words of my pastor as he prays, for it is an intercessory prayer for the whole congregation.  At the end of the day Hart does not believe Evangelicals are opposed to expressing devotion through the words of another, they are opposed to the hierarchical authority implicit in a set liturgy. 

Contemporary Presbyterians become edgy at the prospect of submitting to present-day church officers.  Such submission appears to be a breach of the priesthood of all believers.  Yet if they can acknowledge that God appoints human authorities to oversee the civil and familial realms, why do they see ecclesiastical authorities as inherently suspect?....The answer, obviously, points to the strong tie between hostility to liturgy and to anticlericalism.  More often than not, Presbyterians oppose liturgy because they refuse to acknowledge the legitimate authority of church officers.

Hart concludes that Evangelical Presbyterians have replaced the genius of the Reformation with the experience of revivalism.  The key to church health is not a large number of conversions or earnestness on the part of adherents, it is the Word faithfully preached, the sacraments faithfully administered, and the congregation rightly disciplined. 

The evangelical concept of dead orthodoxy was virtually unknown prior to the revivals of the eighteenth century. Instead, the issue was whether a church was false or true.  In the minds of Luther, Calvin, and Cranmer, the way to distinguish the true church was by looking above all at the forms used in worship and the ways in which ordination took place.  These matters were unambiguous....But to tell whether a church or person was spiritually alive, revived, or dead was not so certain, and unfortunately, ever since the First Great Awakening, Presbyterians have been more attentive to the invisible work of the Spirit rather than the visible work of the church, a form of alertness that is doomed to frustration because of the Spirit's mysterious movements.

On Beauty

Over the course of the last four weeks we have been pursuing the concept of beauty during our Sunday AM worship service.  I will not attempt to go into any detail here, but I will present some skeletal thoughts for your consideration and further reflection.  Please take the time to look at the attached jpeg.  It is an attempt to put some of these ideas into a model to aid discussion.  These are just seminal thoughts...meant to be corrected, built upon, etc.

Suggested references:   Ps. 27:4; 90:17; 96:6,9; John 1:14, 18; 14:6; 17:17; Rm. 12:1-2; I Cor. 2:6-16; 2 Cor. 3-4; Phil. 1:3-11; 4:8; Col. 2:16-3:4; 1 Jn. 2:15-16

1.   Truth, beauty and goodness exist supremely in the Triune God

"Too late came I to love thee, O thou Beauty both so ancient and so fresh" (Augustine).

"Nothing so beautiful except the true; the true is worth loving; it should reign everywhere, even in fables" (Boileau).

"A thing of beauty is a joy forever, its loveliness increases, it will never pass into nothingness" (Hyperion). 

2.  Truth, beauty, and goodness are revealed perfectly in the person of Jesus Christ.

"Whether you know it or not, all the longings of your life for beauty are longings for this:  the light of the gospel of the beauty of Christ who is the image of God" (John Piper). 

3.  Elements (remnants) of truth, beauty, and goodness are to be found in natural revelation (creation) and culture (human creativity).

4.  Truth, beauty, and goodness may be known to some degree and pursued by both regenerate (illuminated) and unregenerate (common grace) persons.

5.  Regenerate man must seek to discern truth, beauty and goodness in every aspect of life under the sun and embrace them; they reflect the glory of the Creator.

6.  Regenerate man may discern what is not truth, goodness and beauty and guards against a world system seeking to re-create the believer in its own image.

7.  A process of discernment:

1.  The reproduction (music, art, literature, film, etc) is considered judgmentally (objective standard) and sentimentally.  Taste is perceiving, enjoying, judging (Burch).

2.   Does it embody the qualities of aesthetic excellence?

3.   We have different capacities for discerning these qualities (knowledge/experience); we can improve these skills in any given field.

4.   Experts (people who know most about a given field) are excellent reference points for making informed choices.

Summary:  Truth, beauty, and goodness exist ideally in God alone.  God may be known in creation, and natural law, but especially in the revelation of Jesus Christ--the embodiment of all of God's attributes incarnate; the supreme portrait of God.  Since beauty is especially apparent in the relationship of God's attributes to one another (the landscape of His character), Jesus Christ is the exegesis of God's beauty (John 1:18).  We see the beauty of God in the person and work of Christ.

The believer is to set his affection on things above; he is to pursue those things that are excellent as his knowledge increases with wisdom and all discernment; he is to be changed into the glory of Christ as he meditates on the mind of Christ as given him in the Word.  This fleshes out in a pursuit of the qualities listed in Phil. 4:8:  true, honorable, right, pure, lovely, good repute, excellence, and praiseworthy. 

True           Thought           Theory              Mind              Orthodoxy 

Good         Action               Praxis               Will              Orthopraxy

Beautiful    Passion           Creativity          Emotion          Orthopathy

This should serve as a good launching point to pick up our discussion of taste again.  How is taste molded, shaped, formed, refined by this process?  Thoughts?

The Futures of Evangelicalism (pt 2a)

I have agreed to do a book review for a webring I participate in with Biblical Ministries Worldwide.  The book is The Futures of Evangelicalism: Issues and Prospects (Kregel, 2003) ed. by Craig Bartholomew, Robin Parry, and Andrew West.  I will break the review into posts on individual chapters as they are topical and distinct from one another.  The first entry in this series is here.  The second chapter is Evangelicalism and the Church by Kevin J. Vanhoozer.  Since the chapter is long (60 pages) and the blog lends itself to shorter entries, I will break this one up a bit. 

As he introduces the topic of Evangelicalism and the Church, Vanhoozer borrows a phrase and notes this is the best of times and the worst of times for Evangelicalism.  Some might regard these as years of plenty because of increased political influence, gains in academia, credible confrontation of threats to the faith (biblical criticism, secular humanism, and scientific naturalism), apparent growth of evangelical churches, a seat at the ecumenical table, and cultural engagement.  On the other hand, Vanhoozer regards these as lean years because of a serious lack of biblical and theological substance especially regarding the doctrine of the church (poor reflection).  Not only is evangelical ecclesiology at a "near poverty level," but there is also a breakdown between what is confessed and how life is conducted (poor practice).  Finally, the lack of careful thought and practice shows up most conspicuously in "dumbed down" public gatherings (poor worship). 

Poor reflection:  Ecclesiology is the most neglected pillar in the theological foundation of Evangelicalism.  The para-church nature of the evangelical movement along with the emphasis on the salvation of the individual are cited as possible causes.  Vanhoozer notes that studies on ecclesiology are rare or absent, and that the phrase, "I believe in the holy catholic church, the communion of saints," from the Apostle's Creed seems non-existent in evangelical life.

Poor practice:  Vanhoozer laments that evangelical success seems to have come at the expense of unique evangelical identity; the world has set the agenda for the church.  Evangelical theologians look and sound like their liberal counterparts; evangelical congregants seem remarkably similar in their lifestyle to non-evangelicals.  He asks, "What kind of character is being formed in evangelical churches?" and then paraphrasing Robert Gundry, "...Evangelicals have lost their fundamentalist edge...they are no longer opposed to worldliness but in bed with it."  Maybe a good dose of Johannine sectarianism would put the church in good stead.  Vanhoozer notes the insights of David Wells diagnosing this condition, "Evangelical churches are increasingly inclined to adapt to culture rather than sustain an intellectual and spiritual antagonism towards it.  The irony, says Wells, is that in order to be relevant, the church has to be different, otherwise it has nothing significant to offer."

Poor worship:  Vanhoozer is critical of the success syndrome that has crept into the church and created a "poverty of its worship."  User-friendly styles, seeker-centered services, marketing strategies, and gospel packaging (music, entertainment, therapy, and food) have created a product that is soon boring because it is offered elsewhere.  What is not available elsewhere is Word, sacrament, and theology.  What kind of disciples are being formed over the long haul?  How can we best worship God and avoid the idolatries of our culture that make man the measure of all things?  "The failure of the Church's worship stems not from offering people too much or something too deep, but from offering too little or something too shallow....Christian variations upon a secular theme." 

Vanhoozer concludes this introduction by stating that in reality this is the most urgent of times.  The contrasting viewpoints of contemporary Evangelicalism (is it boom or bust?) point to the need of the hour.  Regardless of one's perspective, long-term Evangelical "success" is not to be found in the continued privatization of religion.  So Vanhoozer proposes this thesis:  "the best of times for evangelicalism must be church times, and the best church times must be evangelical times." 

In the next section he will propose a mere ecclesiology. 

Recovering Mother Kirk (pt 4)

In Recovering Mother Kirk: The Case for Liturgy in the Reformed Tradition, D. G. Hart asks the question, "Can Presbyterians be high-church?"  I think many mainstream Evangelicals would be confused by that question, thinking Presbyterians already are too formal, too authoritarian, and too liturgical.  Hart, however, believes Presbyterians of all stripes have sold their theological birthright for low-church views typical of American Protestantism as influenced by pietism and Puritanism.  Hart maintains it is a distortion of history to assert the Reformers had a high disdain for correct forms of liturgy, polity, or the role of the ordained ministry of the church.

The clearest distinction between high-church and low-church views is in the area of worship.  Hart says, "High-church liturgy is more formal and reserved, using approved forms and rituals, than low-church worship, which tends toward spontaneous and folksy expressions of devotion."  A search of the historical records of the first two hundred years of Reformed history (16th & 17th century) reveals worship that is carefully constructed and uniform; liturgical unanimity was as much the norm in some Reformed congregations as in English congregations following the Book of Common Prayer.  A number of European churches patterned their worship after the order established by Calvin in Geneva:

Invocation, Confession of Sins, Prayer for Pardon, Singing of a Psalm, Prayer for Illumination, Lessons from Scripture, Sermon, Collection of Offerings, Prayer of Intercession, Apostle's Creed, Words of Institution, Instruction and Exhortation, Communion, Prayer of Thanksgiving, Benediction

Save for the Presbyterians who have adopted a Praise & Worship liturgy (30 minutes of singing followed by 30 minutes of preaching), most Presbyterians follow this order to some degree, but neglect the high-church norms of composed prayer and other memorized forms.  Calvin wrote prayers for use in both church and home, and up until as late as 1987, the Christian Reformed Church included these in its denominational hymnals.  Most of us are quite uncomfortable with pre-written prayers, thinking them a sure sign of spiritual death, but Calvin lists reasons for preferring them:  1) some pastors just can't pray, 2) creates harmony between churches, and 3) eliminates giddiness and innovations. 

The practice of observing the Lord's Supper on a weekly basis is also an element of high-church worship, as well as Calvin's view of the real presence of Christ at the Table.  Hart notes some view the primacy given the sermon as intruding on the regular observance of the Table.  Since Calvin regarded baptism and the Lord's Table as visible expressions of the Word, he did not relegate them to a secondary place behind the sermon.  Those who stand in the Reformed Tradition should be quite comfortable with the language reflecting the sacraments as a means of grace, and not shrink from associations with sacerdotalism.  Hart says, "The Supper does not automatically confer grace, though something always happens, either in the form of blessing or curse....The good rituals are the Word and the sacraments; the bad ones are any rite or ceremony devised by human wisdom, no matter how well intended, that have no sanction in Scripture."

An emphasis on Sacrament certainly does not mean those in the Reformed tradition view preaching with low regard.  In fact, many regard thirty-minute sermons as too short and too tame.  The sermon is "a holy conversation between God and His people....Preaching is not simply a common act of speech through which the minister tries to get across a particular moral or doctrinal truth.  It is a holy activity that God has ordained to reveal himself in worship." 

This naturally leads to a high view of pastoral ministry.  Hart believes the doctrine of the priesthood of all believers has produced a "perverted" understanding of the role of ministers.  "If preaching really is the Word of God and if the sacraments really communicate the benefits of redemption, then the people who perform such acts are clearly different from other believers and should be set apart (ordained) to perform such holy tasks."  Or perhaps, Hart suggests, as believers go about their lives fulfilling the Great Commission they should carry a bit of water along with their Bibles to perform baptisms.  Right along with a high view of the ministry comes a high regard for church membership, the church calendar, and the Lord's Day. 

Hart concludes this section by acknowledging that many (most?) Presbyterian churches have abandoned their high-church heritage for a low-church mentality.  In the next section, he'll discuss how that happened. 

Recovering Mother Kirk (pt 3)

You can find the previous two entries on this topic here and here.

In D.G. Hart's work, Recovering Mother Kirk: The Case for Liturgy in the Reformed Tradition, he posits that those in the Reformed tradition accomplish the opening theme ("the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever") of the Westminster Shorter Catechism in one of three ways: by emphasizing doctrine, by stressing the comprehensiveness of the Reformed worldview to all of life, and by embracing a Reformed piety (experimental Calvinism).

Hart is not very satisfied with how the Presbyterian Church is accomplishing the task in worship, and addresses the issue in a chapter entitled "Is High-Church Presbyterianism an Oxymoron?" He begins by attempting to place the Presbyterian Church on an interesting scale: Baptists are Methodists with shoes, Presbyterians are Baptists who can read, Lutherans are Presbyterians who can drink to excess, and Episcopalians are Lutherans who know when to say when!

So for Hart, Presbyterians inhabit the moderate middle on Protestant ideas of liturgy and ministry. Baptists on the way up the scale need only deal with infant baptism to enter the Presbyterian Church, while some Presbyterians looking for high church forms find themselves in Eastern Orthodox or Roman Catholic traditions (Hart finds it strange that Lutheranism is seldom an option). Hart believes there is a high-church tradition in historical Presbyterianism that is "every bit as divinely appointed and liturgically well conceived as the best of the other traditions higher up the churchly scale."  Low-church Presbyterianism is the real oxymoron.

To be continued.