Homily: The Week of Prayer for Christian Unity
The charity of Christ urges us.
There is nothing about my personality and
temperament which predisposes me to give a hoot about Christian Unity. I love a
theological barroom fight and at best Christian Unity is a hook and jab useful
from time to time, especially because the other guy does not see it coming. My
father was a priest who was above all things nice, a broad churchman back in
the days, when that did not necessarily mean he did not believe in anything but
that he was tolerant to a fault. Of course that meant that I had to be
different from him. It also caused him to make sure I experienced the full
range of Anglican diversity. He gloried in places like Old St. Mary’s, Kansas
City, and St. Mary the Virgin, New York City because they proved the good
manners and common decency of Anglicanism.
Little did he know that he was sowing the seeds of his own son’s
intolerance.
My father’s tame and mainstream Anglicanism did
not stand much of a chance against these more exotic and strange statue-filled,
incense-laden, biretta-headed places. If I was to have any sort of religion,
this is what it would have to be like.
Throughout all the usual detours, Marxism, the silly sixties, atheism,
moral dissolution, and so forth, the conviction remained: this was the best
that religion, however wrong-headed, had to offer.
The other mistake that my father made was to
fill his library with books by men like Dom Gregory Dix and E. L. Mascall. It
turned out that the Victorian palaces had substantial intellectual foundations.
It was the devil’s mistake to let me read myself back into the Christian
religion. But it may be that our ancient enemy knew quite rightly that the
whole thing was about to fall apart and he had little to fear.
In any case along with Mass, Mary and Confession
came this annoying business about Christian Unity, not on the grounds of being
nice but on the grounds of being Catholic. It should not have been much of a
surprise because so much else about the Catholic religion is disagreeable to
our natural inclinations.
There is nothing about our current circumstances
which encourages a passion for the Unity of the Church. Our friends in the Ordinariate
assure us that the ecumenical imperative of the day, the answer to all our
prayers, and the hopes of ARCIC are now dead and over. With Pope Francis have come new divisions within
the Roman Church itself, which we have wrongly assumed to be impervious to
disunity. Anglicans are busy as bees trying to construct new and ever more
insurmountable obstacles to their own unity and unity with Rome and the
Orthodox. Conservatives as well as liberals are intent on sectarian
navel-gazing as they try to figure out what Anglicanism is. The Church of
England is doing its best to drive Catholic Anglicans to extinction. ACNA and
GAFCON are reviving the old factions of the Reformation and the 39 Articles.
But for now and for a variety of reasons there
are still a few Catholic Anglicans to be found. In some cases it is purely
personal reasons that keep priests and their people within the Anglican fold:
family considerations, responsibility for parishes, lethargy, old age, each having
his own, take it as you like, excuses or prudence.
If God has anything at all to do with why we
remain, it is surely because He wants us to irritate our c0-religionists with
His Son’s prayer ut omnes sint: “that
they all may be one”. If there are no
Anglicans of the Catholic tradition around, then it is doubtful that this
prayer will be made at all. We are
pitiful and poor watchmen standing on the ruble of the ruins.
It is, I fear, characteristic of Anglican
arrogance, that the Ordinariate is viewed as the only answer to Christian
Unity. What about all the other Christians in the world? I regularly teach in
an ecumenical School of Spirituality where it is possible for me to present the
Catholic Faith to Baptists, Methodists, Presbyterians and so on. They will
listen to me, where they would never listen to a Roman Catholic priest. These
folks come to me for spiritual direction, when they would never go to a Roman
priest.
None of this is to pat ourselves on the back, but
to remind ourselves that it is our primary vocation, not just part of our
vocation, to witness to something bigger than Anglicanism. This has always been
the vocation of the Catholic Movement: to insist that Anglicanism can only be
important to the degree that it belongs to and longs for something much bigger
than Anglicanism.
The chances that Anglican Catholics will survive
let alone triumph are slim. But T.S. Eliot said this about that: “If we take
the widest and wisest view of a Cause, there is no such thing as a Lost Cause,
because there is no such thing as a Gained Cause. We fight for lost causes
because we know that our defeat and dismay may be the preface to our
successors’ victory, though that victory itself will be temporary; we fight
rather to keep something alive than in the expectation that it will triumph.”
We will not be successful but success has
nothing to do with it. We pray not because we expect that the results of
our prayers will be quickly seen or realized but because caritas Christi urget nos – the love of Christ urges us on.
This
homily is mostly recycled from earlier comments on this blog.
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