Homily on the Feast of William Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury

This sermon began with the reading of Archbishop Laud's biography from Lesser Feasts and Fasts. It continued thus:

If there's one thing Archbishop Laud was not, it was a political opportunist. He was not in it for sheer political power, because such people are usually shrewd with power when they get it and don't make the kind of colossal political blunders that Laud did. Opportunists and change their stripes with the whims of the people -- Laud was beheaded, in large part, because he refused to embrace the fashionable ideas of his day and persisted -- curmudgeonly, tyrannically -- in pushing his very unpopular ideas. Nor was he a pragmatist. Pragmatists do what will work, even if it goes against their ideals -- Laud persisted in his ideals even when, by all accounts, they didn't work toward peace, reconciliation, or a resolution of any of the troubles he faced. If he was not therefore an opportunist or a practical man, what was he? What makes a person so devoted in pursuit of his cause that he would, for the sake of supporting that cause, risk starting a war that ended with his own execution and that of the King he supported?

Though there are several reasons why people may devote themselves to such causes, in Laud's case, I think he had the deepest of reasons -- he was a man in love. He had caught a glimpse of the Church of God, the Body of Christ, in all its glory and beauty, in all its catholic splendor; a church both reformed -- with a vibrant gospel to preach -- and catholic -- faithful to the doctrine and leadership handed down from Christ through the apostles to the bishops. Laud was enamored of this Church for the same reason that he was enamored of his King: Laud believed that both the monarchy and the Church were divine institutions, established by his God and imbued with holiness, righteousness, and the ability to express God's nature -- indeed, the very Gospel -- in a broken and disordered human world. Laud hated disorder, especially in the church, and He saw God as the source of order and right-ness and beauty. Everyone who falls in love knows that love always contains, in some measure, an appreciation of aesthetics, of beauty. Laud loved the beauty of the church and the beauty of the divine-right monarchy. This beauty was, to him, God's own beauty. Loving church and supporting monarch were the equivalent, to him, of loving and obeying God. That's why he was willing to sacrifice everything valuable in the world to stand up for God's beautiful church and God's beautiful monarchy. He sacrificed a normal family life when he was ordained, for at that time most English clergy maintained celibacy. Laud sacrificed his career by supporting a doomed monarch. Laud sacrificed the churches over which he had charge, in one instance by pushing the Scottish prayer book on a church that didn't want it (but needed it, in Laud's eyes, to be more like the beatific vision of Christ's Body that Laud loved). For the sake of loyalty to God and King, Laud sacrificed his parishioners and countrymen by dragging them into a war that would claim many of their lives. For the sake of his love, Laud even contributed to the downfall of the King he served, since that downfall was necessary to maintain the ideals of divine-right monarchy and traditional catholicism. And finally, but to Laud least importantly, he gave his own life as a sign that the ideals of catholicism and divine right of kings were gospel truth.

The question before us today, as we celebrate the great love of a great but flawed man for God and His church, is "What do we love?" What has enamored us? Have we caught a glimpse of God's beauty in the world, and has it captured our hearts? If the beautiful vision Laud saw of Church and monarch was real, and really remains in existance today, have we seen it? Have we seen the glory of God's church, Christ's Body, prepared as bride for her husband? Have we grasped, as Laud did, the miracle of the Church, Emmanuel, God with us, the beautiful Word made flesh and dwelling among us? Are we in love? Would we self-givingly sacrifice everything, even the thing itself that we love, to further express and obtain God's beauty? Some say beauty is in the eye of the beholder -- God's beauty is always controversial, and pursuing that beautiful vision will always lead, as our Gospel reading today says, not to unity, but to estrangement; not to peace, but to a sword. Are we willing to go there? Do we love that strongly? Are we willing to walk in the way of the cross of our Savior, who himself, for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, despising its shame, and is seated at the right hand of God the Father? From that seat He beckons us to fall in love with God, as Laud did. From that seat flows the beauty that should enflame our complacency, consume our pride in paltry human dignity, and leave our sin-hardened hearts broken and weeping, overcome, choked up, repentent -- enamored of the Beauty of all Beauties. May God enflame our hearts. May the vision of His glory consume our pride. May His face inspire repentence and smile in forgiveness. May we love God and His church with all our hearts. May we be able to say, with the Psalmist, "Whom have I in heaven but you? And having you, I desire nothing upon earth. Though my flesh and my heart should waste away, God is the strength of my heart and my portion for ever. Truly, those who forsake you will perish; you destroy all who are unfaithful. But it is good for me to be near God; I have made the Lord GOD my refuge."

AMEN.

anthony sacramone, of first things, on 'children of men'

Right. What he said. A.k.a. my sentiments (more or less) exactly... though I haven't read the novel.

a glimmer of hope in dark times

Those Anglicans who hold to the catholic teaching about apostolic order have had their consciences defended by the Panel of Reference appointed by the Archbishop of Canterbury. Read the Panel's report on the Diocese of Fort Worth (which does not accept the ministry of ordained women) here. Know ye: its a pdf file. Read Fort Worth's response here. And here is an article in the Living Church. ++++++Jefforts-Schori has issued her own response, to which +Iker refers in the Living Church article; but I have not been able to find it online. The Panel's report is not legally binding (very few things in Anglicanism are legally binding at the global Communion level). But it carries a great deal of moral authority, and is something of a vindication of the integrity within Anglicanism of the Church's universal teaching about the ordained ministry. It is absolutely unconscionable and appalling to me that the integrity of the Church's universal teaching on this (and many other issues) actually needs to be defended from the power of ECUSA. But it illustrates very clearly that ECUSA is hostile to the historic faith.

Highlights of the Panel's report include:

...while the Communion is in a process of reception, no diocese or parish should be compelled to accept the ministry of word or sacrament from an ordained woman; and that provision has to be made to meet the conscientious objection to ministry by women.

....

The Panel recommends that it be made clear that it is legitimate for a diocese to ask of candidates for election as bishop that they abide by the particular policy of the diocese in relation to the ministry of women, and that theological views on the ordination or consecration of women should not be a ground on which consent might be withheld by the Province/House of Bishops.

....

The Panel also recommends that the Archbishop of Canterbury continue discussions with the Diocese of Fort Worth and with the Episcopal Church with the aim of securing the place of Fort Worth in the Communion.

This is all good news for folks (like your friends at Whitehall) who defend the catholic faith with regard to the all male priesthood.

pray for the primates

We'll see whether the primates' meeting coming up in February will be a make or break thing. But it has the potential of being such. In any event: the primates need prayer. The folks at Lent and Beyond are providing suggestions and resources for praying for the primates. I commend them to you.

the epiphany

Why, impous Herod, shouldst thou fear
Because the Christ is come so near?
He who doth heavenly kingdoms grant
Thine earthly realm can never want.

Lo, Sages from the east are gone
To where the star hath newly shone;
And on by light to Light they press,
And by their gifts their God confess.

The Lamb of God is manifest
Again in Jordan's water blest,
And he who sin had never known
By washing hath our sins undone.

Yet he that ruleth everything
Can change the nature of the spring,
And gives at Cana this for sign:
The water reddens into wine.

Then glory, Lord, to thee we pay
For thine Epiphany to-day;
All glory through eternity
To Father, Son, and Spirit be. Amen.

V. O worship the Lord, alleluia.
R. All ye Angels of his, alleluia.

To-day to her heavenly Bridegroom is the Church espoused, forasmuch as in Jordan Christ hath washed away her iniquities; Sages with their offerings hasten to the royal marriage; and with water turned to wine the guests are regaled, alleluia.

thank you; it's good to be here

Fr. WB has kindly invited me to become a contributor to his blog. The bar has already been set high by the current roll of writers and readers, but I will endeavour to do my best. One could hardly ask for more.

Since by training and inclination I am an art historian, and by conviction and grace a Roman Catholic, I suspect that many of my posts will center around the nexus of those issues (in other words, cultural rather than theological issues; and much sympathy for my Anglican brethren and sistren).

Look for more of me in the future, but for tonight, I have little energy left for a more extensive post.

which brings me to my next point...

The Best Movies of 2006 that I Saw (in no particular order):

Munich - Spielberg's "quiet masterpiece." Indeed. Its greatest quality is moral ambiguity, a quality I believe to be inherent in secular points of view. I applaud Spielberg's honesty in emphasizing it.

Children of Men - See below.

Crash - Complex, sensitive, heartbreaking.

Infamous - Far and away the better of 2006's two movies about Truman Capote. It delves considerably deeper into the psychological issues at play between Capote, In Cold Blood, and the killers.

Babel - If it had had a worse, or a less happy, ending (up to which it seemed to be building), I felt it would have been more essentially Christian.

The Departed - Incredibly bleak; incredible nonetheless.

Caché - Technically released in 2005, but not until toward the end, and in any case I didn't see it until 2006. This movie gets under your skin.

Casino Royale - Rehabilitating Bond after years of the franchise's mere plodding toward increasingly facile nonsense (with bigger explosions). This managed to be moderately facile, with few big explosions and one incredibly tedious poker game.

Also Good (though I wouldn't say "best") Were:

Little Miss Sunshine
The Last King of Scotland
The Queen
The Illusionist
Jesus Camp

Movies from 2006 which I have not seen, but intend to:

Brick
Match Point
Half Nelson
The Prestige
Letters from Iwo Jima
Apocalypto
The Good German
Inland Empire
The Good Shepherd
The Science of Sleep
Old Joy
The Painted Veil
Blood Diamond
Pan's Labyrinth

Movies Pointedly NOT on Any List of Mine:

Snakes on a Plane
Clerks, part 3
V for Vendetta
And let's not forget... The da Vinci Code

All in all, I think 2006 was a little lackluster filmwise.

children of men and a reflection on current affairs

I went to see Children of Men last night. It reminded me a good deal of Apocalypse Now: A cynic on a weird redemptive journey through apocalyptic weirdness and violence. Unlike Manolha Dargis of the NY Times, I'm not naive (or unobservant) enough to think that there is no ideology behind the movie. It does sort of masquerade as mere reporting. But as with V for Vendetta (which I found intensely irritating in this respect), the clear implication of the movie is that the policies of the governments of America and Britain (today) are on a path leading civilization to the brink. This is implied mainly by the ubiquitous stylistic and thematic elements of Children of Men that were taken directly from the news media's coverage of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

For example, in Children of Men, the cynical protagonist (Theo played by Clive Owen) is caught in the crossfire between a misguided government and a misguided resistance. We are left to guess at the particulars of what drives the resistance, apart from their vague and vaguely benevolent concern for immigrant rights (in the movie, immigrants are distractingly referred to as "fugees"). Moreover, the resistance is a make-believe group called "The Fishes." By contrast, the implied continuity of the government with its real world counterparts is more than evident in constant references to "The Department of Homeland Security" (this time in Britain), whose thugs dress like American soldiers and parade around with vicious German Shepherds, rounding up immigrants, beating them indiscriminately, and dressing them à la Abu Ghraib torture victims (complete with sacks over their heads, etc.). Further continuity with reality is implied by little touches like anti Iraq war memorabilia in the home of one of the movies unambiguously good guys: an old hippy played well by Michael Caine.

Technically - and overall - the movie was impressive. Certainly much better that 90% of today's cinematic schlock. One action sequence in particular, which has Clive Owen running through an urban battlefield while bullets and rockets zing around him, is very impressive indeed - it felt real, and really violent, without being especially gory. And the actual theme of the movie (overlying its Bush-critical subtext) is taken straight from the pages of our culture's Christian mythos: a child is miraculously born in disadvantaged circumstances, and brings with it to the world the hope of peace, righteousness, joy, etc. And you can't help liking a protagonist (Clive Owen) who's only motivation is to protect a helpless mother and child. Who doesn't like helpless mothers and children?

Okay, so what's my problem? Its not that I am a big fan of the Iraq War or of some particular set of immigrants or immigration policies. What I do dislike, however, is ham-fisted criticism of any of the above, though it be implied. The challenges facing contemporary society (particularly the challenge of Islam - what is called in public "radical" Islam) are multifaceted and incredibly deep and complex. Does this mean the Bush Administration is engaging them wisely? Not necessarily. But I don't see a cultural or political consensus on a viable alternative. I see myriad potential alternatives (e.g. more troops in Iraq, fewer troops in Iraq, no troops in Iraq, etc.), the viability of any of which are to my mind far from demonstrable. And over and over again I see in the media reductionistic accounts of the conflicting ideologies which, in their grossest form, usually go something like this: the American government wanted to steal oil, so they invaded Iraq; this has provoked radical Muslims to rage against the West.

Piffle. The media occasionally reports with indignation that many in the American Government don't know the difference between Sunnis and Shiites. I don't doubt this, and its a horrifying fact. But who in the media knows the difference? You can't begin to understand the West's conflict with Islam until you understand something about Islam. And no one seems to. It looks to me like Alfonso Cuarón (the director of Children of Men) is buying into the notion, pervasive in Western culture, that prophecy consists of one part recognition that there is, in fact, a conflict going on, and one part inculpation of our side's leaders for their role in it. Again: piffle. Mordacious criticism, to my mind, is made credible only in being accompanied by a constructive alternative to the object of criticism.

But in the meantime, notwithstanding its subtextual punditry and minor flaws, Cuarón has made an interesting, compelling, and visually very impressive movie. Go see it.

an interesting comparison

Fr Cantrell has posted a trenchant little comparison between the Old Religion (Christianity), as represented by Fr Louis Bouer's book Liturgical Piety, and the New Religion (ECUSA), as represented by ++++++Jefforts-Schori. One of the things I find so intensely irritating about the New Religion is how jargony it is: MDG's, reconciliation, shalom, the Reign of God, etc.

Here's a snippet from Fr Bouyer's book:

We do not, therefore, get to the heart either of the problems of the world or of the task of Christianity until we seriously face the problem of sin and accept, not the way of some illusory reconciliation with the world, but the way of conflict which is the way of voluntary death in and with Christ.

No doubt, you see the contrast. Christianity has ever been a religion of ascetic struggle for its devotees. That's totally left out of the New Religion... and its having been left out is a damnable error for which we will be held accountable.

i am still around; i'll always be around... and around... and around... and around...

(Cf. The Highwaymen, etc.)

Just an update: I have been with my beloved family for Christmas, and with beloved friends for a wedding and New Year's festivities. Look for my re-entry into the blogging fray in the coming days.