Sunday, September 03, 2006

Confession, Mega-Church Style

I read about mysecret.tv on The Parish (cheers, Greg) several weeks back, and now the New York Times has caught wind of this (rather disturbing, if you ask me) phenomenon. From the Times piece:
About a month ago, LifeChurch, an evangelical network with nine locations and based in Edmond, Okla., set up mysecret.tv as a forum for people to confess anonymously on the Internet. [...] “I can’t tell you how many hundreds of times people have told me that ‘I’m going to tell you something, Pastor, I’ve never told anyone before,’ ” Mr. Groeschel said. “I realized that people are carrying around dark secrets, and the Web site is giving them a first place for confession.”

Of course, Pastor Craig goes on to say that “There’s no magic in confessing on a Web site...My biggest fear is that someone would think that and would go on with life. This is just Step 1.” In other words "Absolution is not part of the bargain, just the beginning of release."

Now, I am all for confession. In fact - and this often gets me in trouble when talking to Nazarene friends and family who don't share my convictions about liturgical worship - I have come to cherish corporate confession and absolution such that it is difficult for me to fathom how the COTN ever became convinced that holiness could be possible apart from regular confession. But surely this is not confession - anonymously on a website? - or at least not confession that could be considered in any way Christian. This in no way involves a community of faith in the process, nor does it require anything of me, not even a vocal utterance of my sin (specifically or generally) - think of it: I don't even have to hear my own voice say that I am a sinner, much less permit anyone else hear this admission! Even more troubling, perhaps, is the voyeuristic character of this site, which allows any and everyone to read such sordid blurtings, of questionable veracity, to their depraved heart's contentment.

I pray for the day when the COTN discovers the redemptive humility of confessing, together, our sin in "things done and left undone" (who can argue with that?), and the comfort and affirmation of being reassured that we are forgiven - and that this in no way impugns one's sanctification; in fact, it may serve to confirm it all the more as authentic. But forbid it, Lord, that we should ever accept a hollow, "virtual" version of the real thing.

Friday, September 01, 2006

Worship: A Big Fat Waste Of Time

...at least that's what Marva Dawn thinks. Of course, she doesn't mean it in the way you might think she means it. Her book, A Royal "Waste" of Time: The Splendor of Worshipping God and Being Church for the World, bears this ironic title, not because she in fact considers worship a waste of time, but because it appears to be so to the world. That is, "By engaging in [worship], we don't accomplish anything useful in our society's terms" (p. 1). But she goes on to say that this is right and good: worship shouldn't be about utilitarian aims, it should be an appropriately gratuitous response to the lavish love of God.

I think she misses at least one aspect of this idea of worship as a "time-waster," that is, the idea that "liturgical time" is outside of mundane (earthly) time because it is oriented to the clock of God's Kingdom. Liturgical time brings the past into the present, as we recall the Last Supper, Christ's death and resurrection; and it brings the end of time (eschaton) near to us, giving us a glimpse of the worship of God that takes place perpetually in heaven around God's throne, as well as a foretaste of the heavenly banquet that awaits us. (Actually, she might pick this up somewhere - I confess I haven't read the entire book.) In this sense, too, worship is a waste of time - by the world's economy of time, we could be doing better, more productive things; also, by the Kingdom's economy of time, it is a con-fusion (literally "to run together") of times. Or, more specifically, it is the subversion of kronos, linear or sequential time, by kairos, which is "God's appointed time," the time of an event, of the happening of something special, something crucial. "Kiaretic" time is, even by etymologic similarity, the time of the Cross (crucis), where earthly time stands still in the wonder of this meeting, this intersection of heaven and earth.

Still, perhaps there is something to thinking of worship as a waste of time in the most literal and mundane sense. Adam Kotsko, a former Nazarene, has expressed this much better than I ever could:
"I don't want a worship experience at all. Or maybe I do. I want to stand-sit-kneel every so often, I want to say the words the congregation is supposed to say, I want to sit patiently through the bad homily, I want to taste the wafer and maybe the watered-down wine -- I want to make sure I don't forget. It's nice to be reminded, every so often, that this stupid and pointless thing is happening, and to participate in it, to waste a half hour on it and walk away with nothing. I think that's important."
(Excerpted from his post, which you should read if you have a moment.) As much as a I talk about, think about, write about, read about, and participate in liturgy, I confess there are many times when what I feel is precisely nothing. And as a good Nazarene boy, I can't help but think, "Well, why did I even bother?" If I leave feeling even more alienated from God and perhaps even from other people; if I leave with more of a profound sense of God's absence than of God's presence, well, then isn't something wrong? With me? With the liturgy? Maybe the music wasn't good enough. Maybe the sermon was weak. Maybe my "heart wasn't in the right place."

Even then, I have to believe that it matters, that what I've done by submitting myself to these strange practices of Christian worship, even when it can only be described as "going through the motions" (so often the evangelical criticism of liturgy), is somehow significant, even if it doesn't seem to "make a difference." To worship in the absence of God demands a lot more of faith than to do so in God's overwhelming (if occasionally manufactured) presence...does it not?

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Order of St. Stephen

If you share a conviction for the COTN's historic roots in social justice, care for the downtrodden, compassionate ministry and the like, you might consider becoming involved with the newly emerging (there's that word again!) Nazarene Order of St. Stephen:

"Nearly 100 years ago the Church of the Nazarene began in Los Angeles California. Gathered were a group of Christians interested in proclaiming the radical optimism of God's love and grace to people on the margins. The early work of this new moment defied societal and class boundaries. Compassion and justice were inextricably linked to the holy call to love God and neighbor--no holiness but social holiness. People were added to their number daily who testified to lives changed by the grace of God. [...]

The Order of Saint Stephen is a community of brothers and sisters who are banding together to live this gospel as a way of life. We are recovering the Order of Saint Stephen which was part of that first Church of the Nazarene in LA. In so doing we desire to rediscover the potency of their commitment to discipleship, contemplation, compassion, and justice."

Not sure just yet how this will develop, but it has my unbridled support already. Email nazarenemonks(at)gmail(dot)com to express your interest.

Monday, August 28, 2006

Report from the Front Lines

I guess I am attempting this first blog mostly to earn the right to have my name in the prestigious list to the right (contributors). I've enjoyed reading the stuff I've found here, and I truly appreciate Brannon's efforts to make this a place where ideas can be exchanged about an area which is a passion of mine. I am a pastor in a Nazarene Church in the South. This is my 3rd church and I truly love the Church of the Nazarene. I have pastored in three different regions, with three very distinct groups of people inhabiting each Church. The Church I am in right now is largely white-collar, and we have an ever-increasing contingent of students and grad students from Baylor University attending. I have truly loved sharing with this Church my passion for worship, the Sacraments and the Christian calendar. I’ll share two interesting accounts very briefly, then try to sum up my rambling and get out as painlessly as possible.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Infant Baptism: The Plot Thickens

With a little self-motivation and hard work, Joseph has made some interesting discoveries about the history of infant baptism in the COTN and shares with us a summary of his preliminary research.

Sunday, August 20, 2006

For the Life of the World

Pastor John Wright of Mid-City COTN in San Diego (I'm pretty sure that means "Saint Diego"...although scholars maintain the original translation was lost years ago...) has written a fantastic post on "Transfiguration and the Eucharist." His insights, drawn largely from the work of Orthodox theologian Alexander Schmemann, are well worth your attention.

Insights on Wesley

"For Wesley, there was no contradiction between sacramental and evangelical religion, as these terms were later formulated. He was both a Catholic sacramentalist - if by that is signified a deep attachment and devotion to the given forms through which God has promised to convey His grace and in which the believer is confirmed in faith and his life sanctified - and a revivalist who saw in the Supper a means not only of sanctification but of preaching unto conversion and justification. Without denying any of the richness of his Anglican eucharistic heritage, he broadened it to include new elements. This is paralleled by the fact that he adhered to the Anglican liturgy while at the same time adding characterist Methodist features, notably hymns and extempore prayer. The Catholic and Protestant features were present also in doctrine, and, as with baptism, Wesley strove for a genuine via media between the extremes of both positions..."

from John R. Parris, John Wesley's Doctrine of the Sacraments. London: The Epworth Press, 1963, pgs 95-96.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

"Communion for two, please": On the Sacrament(s) of Marriage

Whether or not marriage should be regarded as a sacrament is a matter of debate in the Protestant world. To my mind, the issue is not really about whether or not marriage should be considered a "means [medium, mediation] of grace," for undoubtedly marriage is the graced, redemptive work of God. Further, I agree with those who remind us that God is not constrained by His sacraments; while there are a limited number of particular rites which the Church recognizes as sacraments, any number of life's moments can be, as it were, "sacramental."

Still, some would prefer to describe marriage as a "vocation" rather than a sacrament, reserving the designation of sacrament only for those symbols in which all Christians are expected to participate: namely, baptism (and correlatively, confirmation) and the Eucharist. By this logic, rites like ordination and marriage, although sacramental in the sense of involving a transmission of God's grace, are not properly identified as sacraments because only certain ones are called (hence, "vocation") to the married or prophetic-priestly life.

So while most Protestants don't consider marriage itself an official sacrament, based upon my own experience, I would conjecture that many if not most wedding ceremonies in the COTN include the sharing of the bread and the cup. Sometimes this Communion is shared only between the bride and groom, although I have observed that couples seem to be becoming more inclined to invite the congregation to participate. I think this latter trend is wonderful, but it is not without its problems: does one announce to the congregation, or print in the order of service, that Communion is only for baptized Christians; or if not referring to baptism specifically, stating that Communion is only for "all who confess Jesus Christ as Lord and Saviour," as is common practice? Or does one assume that most people know the protocol and so will abstain if they are not professing/baptized Christians? To use an example from my own life, communion wasn't offered to the congregation (only the couple) at a recent family wedding, because, it was explained to me, the couple knew that many in attendance were not Christians, and they didn't want to create a necessarily exclusive dynamic. But is this particular exclusivity to be avoided?

So, I simply ask: should Communion be included in a wedding ceremony? More pointedly, should it be included at all if not all (Christians) are going to be invited to receive? How should one handle situations like this, pastorally and liturgically? This leads into obvious questions about how the church is to minister in our day and age, with the myriad of people and circumstances with which pastors and churches have to deal. Do we need to play it hard-and-fast, or take things on more of a case-by-case, day-to-day basis?

It would do well to recall that Nazarenes beginning with Phineas Bresee have maintained agreement with St. Augustine: "In essentials, unity; in non-essentials, liberty; in all things, charity." But how do we bear this out in our churches, locally, and in our denomination, globally? (And by all means, draw upon real-life scenarios in responding!)

Friday, August 18, 2006

Nazarenes take over a water park

I was just browsing on the internet and I stumbled across this interesting article about how a large number of people from a Guatamalan church rode a bus for over an hour to a water park to have a large baptismal service. The article mentions that the crowd would cheer when a person came up out of the water and that the church shared a meal together afterwards.

From an outsider's view, I think it was more important to the church to make a big deal out of baptism than it was to make sure they had immersion-type baptism (and that's not where I wanted this discussion to go since I think we all agree that the type doesn't matter).

Thoughts?

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Baptism and Dispossession

Hey folks,

My name is Dave Belcher, and though Brannon has already listed me as a contributor, I have yet to actually contribute to this great conversation. It's late where I'm at and it's been a long day--my band played on the 12:00 Kansas City Fox4 News, then our bass player cut his leg wide open with a razor blade (accidentally), we got lost multiple times on the way to our evening gig, and we played a concert for recovering addicts of all sorts ("Celebrate Recovery")--but I'd like to just give a preface to my interest with "the Church," the sacraments, and my research for my master's thesis [and though I share this here with trust, I haven't finished this, and this will be a published work, so please don't share it elsewhere...sorry for the disclaimer].

The Church can only appear as it is One; not only is this affirmed all over Scripture, but in nearly all of Christian tradition(s), especially up to the Reformation period. Because Jesus Christ is One, and brings the scattered Adam into Unity--the Unity of his very body--there can be no division in his body...this is Paul's point when he says to the churches in Galatia and Colossia: "There is no longer Jew nor Greek..." However, with the division of the body of Christ--which we can say with certainty occured in the Reformation, if not in other instances of Christian history, e.g., the 5th century split of Eastern and Western Roman orthodoxy--we must say with confidence that the Church has disappeared. Two things must follow this statement. First of all, we must recognize that though this language sounds harsh, it is absolutely necessary. The countless ecumenical councils and conferences that have followed in the wake of the Reformation, though they have been a step in the right direction, have more often than not served as a veil to the problem, or a way for one denomination to blame another; concrete worldwide Unity is not forthcoming. If we do not recognize that the Church cannot appear as it is One, and that refusing to join with one another in worldwide Unity also restricts Christ's lordship, we deceive ourselves, and pompously remain in rebellion against God's will to bring healing and restoration to the brokenness (read, "sin") of fallen humanity. As St. Paul asks the churches in Rome, "What shall we say then? Shall we remain in sin in order that grace may abound? By no means!"

Secondly, the statement that the Church has disappeared does not mean that the Church has died or failed; as Augustine said in response to the Donatists, the Church cannot fail, because that would mean that Christ would fail in His mission (sent from the Father, and with the Holy Spirit) to bless the whole world through his body (the Church). Rather, the Church exists because it is the body of Christ, and because of the constitutive gift of His Spirit...Christ is thus present where two or three are gathered (by the Holy Spirit), in the Sacrament of Unity at the Eucharistic table, where Church happens. However, because the Church is the marriage of the Holy, blameless Christ to the human bride of the Lamb, and because we persist in our sinful brokenness even after Christ has already freed us from that sin, we can indeed, and do, fail to make Christ present to the world. The way that I have described it in my thesis is that the Church does not disappear ontologically, but rather, phenomenally.

The Church's response to this severe, urgent problem must be something more than the sterile, neutral "agree to talk about not disagreeing" debate of ecumenism; what is required of us is nothing short of (actively) remembering our very entrance into the body of Christ in Baptism. The shape of the baptismal liturgy is the shape of dispossession: we are to "put off" our old humanity, and put on the garment of Christ, who is our new life--as Bonhoeffer puts it, our "new human being." We are drowned in the baptismal waters, buried with Christ in a death like his, and we die to sin so that we too might walk in the newness of resurrected life in the nourishment granted in the very flesh and blood of Christ's body in the Eucharistic meal. In early Christian rites, however, the cathecumens were not permitted to participate in or even see the mysteries of the bread and wine--to join in loving embrace with their new family and body--until they had been washed in the purging waters of baptism, dispossessed of all of their possessions (as Christ says, "No one can be my disciple who does not give away all his possessions"), so that they may receive new life in complete gratuity.

There is no doubt that the Church of the Nazarene is just as involved in this as is the Greek Orthodox or Roman Catholic churches. We cannot be content to be invisibly joined to our Christian brethren--past, present, and future--by the faith that lies in our hearts; if the Church is not visibly One, we must see that the Church disappears. This has massive implications for sacramental worship in the Church of the Nazarene, but even more so for our day to day life--which should be an outgrowth...or actually they should be the same dang thing...of our sacramental worship. This is my prayer.