A Thinking Reed

"Man is but a reed, the most feeble thing in nature, but he is a thinking reed" – Blaise Pascal

The church that prays together…

Since last fall I’ve been helping to facilitate a small community group that meets about once a week primarily to study the Bible (we typically read and discuss the Gospel lesson for the upcoming Sunday), pray and socialize. I guess it’s a “small group” in the parlance of evangelicalism.

Anyway, one of the things I really like about our group is its theological diversity. We have evangelicals, Roman Catholics, lifelong Episcopalians, one guy who’s Armenian Orthodox, and your scribe. We also range from liberal to conservative. The end result is some really lively and interesting conversation.

Case in point: last night we were reading this Sunday’s lesson, Luke 20:9-19, a.k.a. the Parable of the Tenants. Somewhat naturally, the conversation turned to Atonement theory. Some of the folks from more evangelical backgrounds were suprised to learn that there were ways of understanding how Jesus saves us besides the theory of Penal Substitution. Another guy mentioned that he didn’t really like to think of the Cross in terms of some kind of payment for sin, but preferred to focus on the idea of God coming into our world and suffering alongside us (e.g. Whitehead’s “fellow sufferer who understands.”). Another said that his Episcopalian upbringing had taught him to emphasize the Incarnation more than the Atonement. For my part, I tried to defend a more-or-less Anselmian account.

Unsurprisingly, we didn’t come to any consensus, just as the universal church hasn’t. But one of the really valuable things I’ve gotten out of this group is the conviction, and experience, that it’s still possible for Christians with serious theological differences (including differences over things like women’s ordination and homosexuality) to read the Bible and pray together (and head off to the pub for a friendly pint afterwards!). In spite of all the nastiness going on at the macro-level, maybe there are seeds of something hopeful there.

Also, regarding the Atonement, and in the spirit of the Anglican via media, I’ve often been impressed by the way the Eucharistic Prayer A weaves together different understandings of the Atonement:

Holy and gracious Father: In your infinite love you made us for yourself, and, when we had fallen into sin and become subject to evil and death, you, in your mercy, sent Jesus Christ, your only and eternal Son, to share our human nature, to live and die as one of us, to reconcile us to you, the God and Father of all.

He stretched out his arms upon the cross, and offered himself, in obedience to your will, a perfect sacrifice for the whole world. (BCP, p. 362)

I really like how this includes elements of an “Abelardian” account of Christ coming and sharing our nature to manifest God’s love, but without losing all talk of sacrifice or satisfaction.

Obviously all our differences aren’t necessarily going to be resolved in some harmonious whole, but I like to think that there’s something to that idea of holding seeming opposites in a fruitful tension.

8 responses to “The church that prays together…”

  1. Thank the Lord Christ will resolve these differences soon enough.
    🙂

  2. What a wonderful practice. Augustine talks about how the difficulties of the bible turn us toward one another in order to discern its meaning. And, in turn, our disagreements and discussion bind us together in a “knot of charity,” which also is our participation in the divine life. It sounds like ya’ll have that.

    On a different note, I am preparing my sermon for tomorrow and I couldn’t help but notice that we have different gospel lessons assigned for this 5th Sunday of Lent. Ya’ll are reading from Luke 20, while we are reading John 12. What lectionary do ya’ll follow?

    Thanks,
    isaac

  3. Hey Isaac – We follow the Lectionary in the Book of Common Prayer. I believe we’re currently in “Year C.” Looks like you guys might be using the Revised Common Lectionary?

  4. That makes sense. We’re also in Year C. But you’re right, we use RCL. I didn’t know that the lectionary in the Book of Common Prayer was different. That’s too bad we’re reading different texts. What attracted our congregation to the RCL was that we thought most of the denominations would be reading the same texts. Oh well.

    Thanks.

  5. Don’t quote me on this, but I believe the Episcopal Church is scheduled to move to the RCL in Advent of 2007.

  6. Lee,

    Does your group include members of those parties about whom you disagree, women, gays and lesbians? If not, I would suggest finding some as such arguments of abstraction of others are easy to do without their presence from those on all ends of the spectrum.

  7. I guess what I’m saying is that the test of any gathering of this sort for me is when we have to deal with manifest concrete examples of what we conceive of different only in intellectual terms. Certainly these days its seems hard enough to get along across theological differences or ethical differences in the abstract, but it seems to me near impossible to do so with charity and generosity once that “ethical difference’ is in the flesh an not simply an issue for discussion. Hence, my tendency to avoid groups of the kind you describe having been the token queer who finds himself amidst everyone’s argument about his existence and relationship when they should all be happy I’ve shown up to pray in Christ to begin with given the tendency of a talking “about” nature of such societies.

  8. Hi *Christopher,

    Thanks for your insight as always. Happily we do have women and gay folks in our group, but your point is well-taken. It’s one thing to debate an “issue” in the abstract and quite another when it’s your life that’s being debated.

    I’m actually pretty ruthless about keeping people on task, that is, sticking to the reading of the assigned text. It’s not intended to be a debating forum, but a place where we can hopefully encounter God’s word for us (though naturally differences of opinion arise over the meanings of the texts). I also think we’re fortunate in having people who are by and large generous and charitable; no one really comes in with an axe to grind. I can certainly envision situations in which that wouldn’t work, though, for the kinds of reasons you mention.

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