i have friends for whom i admit an occasional jealousy. they, although in most ways practicing christians,are able to speak of the church in the third person, to distance themselves from her, to accuse her of shortcomings they do not share. sometimes this condemnation is of "the organized church," or "the visible church," as if christ desires a disheveled, invisible bride. such an understanding of the church seems not only completely at variance with the new testament, but also unable to carry out the mission which christ jesus has given her. to take a single example, if we are to be in the world but not of the world, how can we witness to the world if we can not be seen?
i am unable to think this way. my identity, my existence, is in the body of christ, the church. i was baptised in the church, confirmed in the church, ordained in the church. by the grace of god i hope toe ventually join my voice with that "great voice of much people in heaven, saying, alleluia; salvation, and glory, and honour, and power, unto the lord our god.
but already i pray in and as the church. each day i confess my sins, not only in the words of psalm 51 (et), "have mercy on me, o god . . . gor i acknowledge my faults and my sin is ever before me," but also in the words of "a general confession" from the book of common prayer: "we have erred, and strayed from thy ways like lost sheep. we have followed too much the devices and desires of our own hearts . . . ."
my sin afflicts the whole church, and the sins of the whole church are mine. indeed the sin of the whole world is mine, is ours, for as christ's body we continue to take on the sin of the world, thus, as paul wrote to the church in colossae, "in my own body to do what i can to make up all that is still to be undergone by christ for the sake of his body, the church." (1:24)
alas, surely there is no affliction of the church more painful than her present state, "by scisms rent asunder, by heresies distrest." (s. j. stone) this seems to be a huge sin, which i find myself confessing each lent, sadly ignored again and again by those of us who never consider what we see as the current voice of the spirit, so conveniently in concord with the spirit of the times, might be prelest.
i have been encouraged these past few weeks before great lent by three books written by members of christ's body who have experienced great suffering, but who have also found themselves therein participants in christ's glory. the books are not of this world: the life and teachings of father seraphim rose, by monk damascene christenson; fragments of my life, by catherine de hueck doherty, and the candlelight kingdom, by ruth korper. they are all three infused with the suffering of russian christians, a circumstance conveniently overlooked by my "liberal education" of the 1960's and '70's, events i would be surprised to find known by many american christians even today. but they do describe the church, organized, visible, and very much alive under the most difficult of conditions.
last week in the daily office were the stories of peter's confession and of the lord's transfiguration. (in churches using the new common lectionary, this sunday was heard the story of the transfiguration also.) in both of these stories the climax is "that the son of man must suffer many things."
may we who confess and call ourselves christians often find ourselves during great lent using this prayer composed by william reed huntington, who with his 1870 book the church idea was on of the pioneers of the recent search for church unity:
"almighty god, whose most dear son went not up to joy but first he suffered pain, and entered not into glory before he was crucified; mercifully grant that we, walking in the way of the cross, may find it none other than the way of life and peace; through the same thy son jesus christ our lord. amen."
No comments:
Post a Comment