A Deo et Rege

Pentecost is one day and then we begin ordinary time. Why am I focusing so little on Pentecost and moving right to ordinary time? Because Pentecost should actually be a reminder that ordinary time is anything but ordinary. Rather it is living out the promise of Pentecost and the continuing of the Holy Spirit’s work. God has now poured out his Spirit on all peoples. The Lord and his plan of salvation are not just for Jews anymore, but for the whole world, at least those who believe in his Son Jesus Christ. What a miraculous day when God invites all types of people to repent, be saved, and enter his Church. And not only that, but he doesn’t leave us orphans, but sends his Holy Spirit to be among us, to guide us to all Truth. That same Spirit empowers us to go out into the world and preach the Good News of God in Jesus Christ. This is not just for Pentecost, but for every day and for all times. Pentecost is the beginning, not an end. As “ordinary time” begins in the Church year we often need a reminder that there is nothing ordinary about the working of the Spirit in God’s Church. The feast of Pentecost is that reminder. May we have a Blessed Pentecost and more importantly a Blessed Ordinary time. And by God’s grace and Holy Spirit, may it be extraordinary.

St. Jerome once said “ignorance of the Scriptures is ignorance of Christ.” The conventional wisdom among many evangelicals I know is that Roman Catholics don’t believe the Bible or that they hold the Bible in low repute. However, hearing a reading from the Roman catechism on the Scriptures planted a seed in my heart to explore Catholicism. My love and high view of Scripture may have started my journey to Rome. What an ironic twist on conventional wisdom! I want to share some of those readings from the catechism now. Even if you have no inclination to become Roman Catholic, I still think these passages will bless you.

On meeting God in the Scriptures:

In Sacred Scripture, the Church constantly finds her nourishment and her strength, for she welcomes it not as a human word, “but as what it really is, the word of God”. “In the sacred books, the Father who is in heaven comes lovingly to meet his children, and talks with them.”

On the inspiration of the Bible:

The inspired books teach the truth. “Since therefore all that the inspired authors or sacred writers affirm should be regarded as affirmed by the Holy Spirit, we must acknowledge that the books of Scripture firmly, faithfully, and without error teach that truth which God, for the sake of our salvation, wished to see confided to the Sacred Scriptures.”

On the Word of God:

Still, the Christian faith is not a “religion of the book”. Christianity is the religion of the “Word” of God, “not a written and mute word, but incarnate and living”. If the Scriptures are not to remain a dead letter, Christ, the eternal Word of the living God, must, through the Holy Spirit, “open [our] minds to understand the Scriptures.”

On the role of Scriptures in the Church:

“And such is the force and power of the Word of God that it can serve the Church as her support and vigour, and the children of the Church as strength for their faith, food for the soul, and a pure and lasting fount of spiritual life.” Hence “access to Sacred Scripture ought to be open wide to the Christian faithful.”

That last part is particularly telling. There is no Roman Catholic plot to keep the Scriptures out of the hands of the laity. In fact, I can’t think of any document I’ve ever read, Protestant or otherwise, that spells out the role of the Bible in our lives more cogently or sublimely. As a good friend put it, the catechism is a “masterpiece.”

I’ve been reading Surprised by Truth: 11 Converts Give the Biblical and Historical Reasons for Becoming Catholic compiled by Patrick Madrid. These are the stories I’m interested in, human experiences. Apologetics are important, but I’ve been so immersed in them, I know every argument. Besides, how many of us really make decisions with only cold logic? C.S. Lewis knew all the arguments, but he was converted by joy. John Wesley was a learned priest, but it was his heart that was strangely warmed at Aldersgate.

Already the book is paying off. The first story is about a Protestant who converted based on church history and also about the steadfastness of the Roman Catholic witness in secular society. One thing in his work really spoke to me personally. When a friend with a terminal illness asked the author what the author would do if he were dying, the author responded he’d join the Catholic Church. I’ve had that same conversation with myself and gave the same answer. I think that situation tends to bring out our true priorities. When I think of marriage and raising kids, I also would like to be in a Church that stands for Truth and not merely blowing each and every way the secular winds dictate. Maybe we could call them “push” questions, because they push the situational envelope a little bit. As a 26 year old, healthy single male, I’m content to remain mainline Protestant. Yet, if my time is nearly up or I’m making decisions that imperil the souls of others, I don’t want to take any chances. The journey continues…

I remember hearing an Episcopal priest friend of mine compare the Episcopal catechism’s definition of the role of Scripture with the Roman Catholic catechism. The Episcopal one was an exercise in minimalism, hedging and accomodation; the Roman catechism was filled with depth, beauty, and quite frankly, to a hungry soul, sustenance. As the crisis in the Episcopal Church and the Anglican communion grows daily, I’ve begun to examine where I belong in the vast expanse of denominationalism. I believe in an ancient-future vision of the Church. Now it’s just a matter of where God is calling me to use that vision.

I’m not committed to leaving Anglicanism or becoming Roman Catholic (or anything else), but am going to spend the next several months in prayer, deep thought, and study, to determine exactly where God is calling me. I want to chronicle this journey online, on this blog. It’s not going to be spiritual voyeurism, but will be an honest look at my questions, struggles, and discoveries.

There will still be my comments on the church year, my usual sarcasm and cynicism towards the mainlines, and my general grandstanding. But for the next few months most of the posts will relate to this journey, my wandering. As Tolkien noted: “all who wander are not lost.” Indeed, I view this as a huge step in being found.

As a catholic, liturgical, and sacramental Christian with a love for (and Master’s degree in) Church history, I consider Roman Catholicism, Greek Orthodoxy, Lutheranism, or a continued place in Anglicanism to be my chief “options.” Yet, I’m not going to prejudice the work of the Spirit. He will lead me, I believe, where he wants me to be.

I’m going to start by reading the whole Roman Catholic catechism, a big goal to be sure. But, if I go to Rome, I want to be sure I know what it means to be Roman. To that end I’m going to visit Roman Catholic churches over the summer. I’m also going to read about the stories of others who have made the journey to Rome or elsewhere. I’m not really interested in apologetics; I have heard every argument for being Roman Catholic, Baptist, etc. that is out there. I’m interested in stories, stories of changed hearts, changed lives, and changed souls. To that end, I’ve added a comments section. If you wish to share about any topic I’ve brought up, please feel welcome.

I have also changed the blog template to a lighthouse. That symbolically reflects the path this blog (and myself!) will be taking in the next few months. Thanks to all who read this blog and for those following this journey, I ask, above all for your prayers.

As Chesterton observed: we need not a church that is right when the world is right, but a Church that is right when the world is wrong. For right or for wrong, the Churches of the Reformation have been wedded to Western culture.

When John Locke decided Christianity needed to be more “rational,” the Reformation Churches obliged him by making it less mystical and sacramental. When the enlightenment decided even that was too “superstitious,” the Reformation churches decided all that “superstition” stuff was optional.

When the modernist West decided man was too good to be damned, the Reformation churches said: “hell, what hell?” When Western culture decided that divorce was liberating, the Reformation churches gladly tore asunder those whom God had joined together.

When the Western feminist movement said women should do anything men do, the Reformation churches went out of their way to accomodate the feminists, even against 3000 years of Judeo-Christian tradition. When the Western cultural elites decided that no modern person could believe this whole Christianity thing, the mainline Reformation churches gutted the faith so that one or two elitists would stay in the pews.

When the West suddenly decided homosexuality was not sinful but something to be embraced and blessed, the Reformation churches feigned a backbone, but gave secular society every demand. Sure, the Reformation churches haven’t officially embraced homosexuality yet, but does anyone think the current leadership of any mainline churches will say no to the constant badgering of gay activists? I wouldn’t bet on it.

Something curious has happened in the last 30 years, however. Through lack of children, a culture of death, and a willful policy of euthanasia by many in the academic elite, Western culture is slowly dying. I can tell you from firsthand experience that many seminary professors use the freedom and tolerance Western culture provides to denounce the same culture as repressive and intolerant.

Yet there is a great irony in the Reformation churches seeking the death of Western culture. The mainlines –like the siamese twin who kills his brother only to come to the horrific realization he cannot live separately– will have to face up to the fact that unless something dramatically changes they too will die with Western modern culture. Since the Reformation churches have dutifully followed every Western cultural trend, they will ultimately follow its current trend toward oblivion. Those in seminaries who seek to destroy Western culture are unwittingly and ironically committing ecclesiacide.

In 2017 we will celebrate the 500th anniversary of the Reformation. If trends continue, by then the Reformation may be a quaint memory in the West’s many retirement homes or on plaques in buildings formerly housing vibrant congregations that will then be either rotting or selling vague, spiritualist New Age paraphernalia. It gives William Inge’s quote–”whoever marries the spirit of this age will find himself a widower in the next”– an eerily literal quality.

I was raised in a Reformation Church. I am currently fighting for the survival of a Reformation Church. The Eames Commission is meeting now to decide the future of the Anglican Church. I am anxiously waiting its results. I believe this is Anglicanism’s last chance to assert its catholic identity or to be forever (in the West anyway) a dying, “has been” institution. It is the last chance the Anglican Church has to turn down the amorous advances of the spirit of the age and assert its timeless place in the Church Catholic. If the Anglican Church, the Reformation Church with the strongest claim to catholicity, cannot break the trend of capitulation to Western culture, the Reformation tradition as a current Christian phenonmenon will be dead.

I am exploring Roman Catholicism while praying for the Commission. More of the same won’t cut it this time. If the Commission cannot stand up for the eternal truths–to be right when the world is wrong– and wishes to die, I don’t wish to die with it.

This is a theme I’ll explore from time to time in this blog as I struggle with my calling to faithfully serve God.

A bit of a forgotten holiday in the American Church Calendar (but isn’t everything except Christmas and Easter?), Ascension Day has great theological importance. In many ways, it was the culmination of Christ’s earthly work and where he truly opened for us the way into God’s presence (where he sits at the right hand of God).

The (later) West has tended to look at the fruits of the Ascension in terms of bringing Christ back down. During the Eucharistic debates of the early Reformation, some of the more radical reformers argued against the Real Presence because Christ was “stuck” at the right hand of God. That radical view surely limits the work of Jesus Christ.

The East has tended (with the early Church) to view us as being brought to God in the Eucharist. The “Lift Up Your Hearts” in the liturgy is more than just a metaphorical call to focus on God. It is a recognition that in the sacred mystery of the Eucharist God takes us, in a real way, to heaven, where he lives and reigns with his ascended Son. Thanks be to God for that!

After Gene Robinson’s consecration, I solemnly took down the Episcopal shield sticker from my car window. Once a source of pride, it had become a source of embarrassment and shame. As I look back on that incident, I recall former Presiding Bishop John Allin’s words that he loved the Episcopal Church more than he loved her Lord. Alas, I must make that confession too. I had been so enthralled with the Episcopal Church, I had been willing to make all too many compromises. The Episcopal Church had become an idol to me. As I reflect on the current situation in ECUSA and the mainlines in general, idolatry is the one word that comes to mind.

No, they aren’t running around with little goddess statues (ok some probably are!). Remember, anything can be an idol: money, relationships, and even those little wooden goddess statues. Even those things sanctioned and blessed by God can turn into idols if God or his grace is somehow removed from them. This is the current state of the Episcopal Church in the USA and the Anglican Church in Canada. It is also, in my view, the current state of many of the USA “mainlines.”

In the Episcopal Church we have all the necessary elements of catholic faith and order: the creeds, the liturgy, the sacraments, the Scriptures, the three church orders, the historical episcopate, etc. We even have those lesser things that complement the catholic faith: vestments, ornate buildings, smells and bells, seminaries, etc. ECUSA has a valid claim to catholicity based on the externals. In other words, from a catholic perspective we look good on paper. But, what lies behind the externals? In many quarters in the Episcopal Church that right now is very little. We’ve fallen into idolatry.

First, take the creeds. The creeds are summaries of the catholic faith and their belief is required for catholicity. We have clergy and bishops who openly deny tenets of the creeds and many attack the creeds themselves. Yet, these people continue to say the creed at services they lead. They say: “we believe” and “I believe” about truths they don’t really believe and even mock. Would the majority of the church, if polled, be able to honestly affirm the creed? Without crossing their fingers? Probably not. And this is also reflective of the belief of the leaders. Would a leader who doesn’t believe in the creed instill a genuine belief in it to her parishioners? Answer: she won’t. Yet, the creed is recited every week in every Episcopal Church (in theory anyway). The true intent of the creed as a statement about God, as a marker of the bounds of orthodoxy is gone; it has become an idol, a Marcus Borg like historical document. We might as well read from the Constitution of the USA on Sunday morning.

In ECUSA, we have the liturgy and a beautiful one at that. I personally like the 1979 Prayer Book (although would be more than willing to relegate it to an ASB), finding it more dignified and sublime than most other denominational prayer books. Yet, the liturgy often falls victim to the same problems as the creed. Although the prayers of the 1979 BCP are generally orthodox, there are many clergy who say them and lead them while actively teaching contrary to the beliefs of the Prayer Book. The liturgy becomes not a life changing expression of praise from our hearts to the living God, but instead is simply a literary masterpiece, a collection of beautiful English, no more life changing or theologically important than watching a Shakespeare play. And many leaders no more believe in the substance of the liturgy than they do the creed. Reciting “Christ is Risen” while openly denying the resurrection in the adult forum after the service turns the liturgy into an idol. Even beautiful things can be idols; in fact, they make the most alluring idols.

The Episcopal Church, in my opinion, does have validly ordained ministers and thus valid sacraments. In regards to the Eucharist, many of our churches have beautiful tabernacles holding the host of Christ. But, in many of these same churches, heretical views of Christology are taught. How can one have a tabernacle, which implicitly affirms the Real Presence of Christ, and yet deny that Christ was divine or that he was bodily resurrected? Perhaps it’s because a tabernacle looks nice; it’s pretty. We like pretty things in the Episcopal Church. We have baptism with water in the name of the Trinity, but many clergy don’t even believe in the Trinity or don’t think that there even is a need for regeneration. Also, we are fast losing the ancient connection of baptism and Eucharist since large groups of ECUSA clergy are rabidly pushing for open communion of the unbaptized. We require people get wet and confess faith in Jesus before partaking of our holiest mysteries. That is hardly oppressive, yet open communion advocates will never be placated with anything short of Unitarian Universalism.

We have the Scriptures and until recently our church has been faithful in keeping those Scriptures as the foundation of our theological life. This has changed in the past 20 years. And it’s not just on the issue of homosexuality. We have priests and bishops who openly deny the bodily resurrection, the divinity of Christ, the miracles of Christ, and many other issues in the Bible that are very clearly taught. Many mock the Scriptures, especially the works of St. Paul, while downplaying or abandoning the authority of the Bible. We also have crypto-Marcionites in the church, who feel they can pick and choose as to what is the “real” word of God. The bishop of Pennsylvania even said the Church could change the canon of the Bible because it gave us the canon. Perhaps that is true in theory of the Church as a whole, but when attempted by a tiny, tiny, tiny minority of American Christians, it is nothing short of arrogance.

We have the historic episcopate and apostolic succession, but it has become little more than a purple club. Bishops are supposed to be in charge of defending and guarding the catholic faith. In ECUSA, we have bishops like Spong, Bennison, and Chane who not only do not defend the Faith, they openly deride and attack it. They have never been censored by the House of Bishops or forced to conform to catholic Christianity because the chief virtue in ECUSA has become “niceness,” not upholding the Gospel. By contrast, in many dioceses, so-called successors of the apostles have pressured orthodox parishes and priests into toeing an heretical line to the extent of closing parishes and defrocking priests as punishment. In New Westminster, Michael Ingham violated the canons by doing same sex blessings, yet the bishops pursued Bishop Terry Buckle of the Yukon for violating the canons by intervening on behalf of the orthodox. The house of bishops is really “swell:” getting together, dressing up, discussing issues, drinking fine wine and eating really well. But the substance is gone; they have abandoned their duties when people like Spong and Bennison can remain bishops. It is no surprise that the canons are not enforced or selectively enforced: like defending the catholic faith, they too are optional and invoked only when harassing orthodox believers.

We have some gorgeous churches, beautiful vestments, and shiny gold chalices and crosses. I’ve heard it said that the Episcopal Church has “style.” That we do! But unfortunately we lack much of the substance behind the style. Take the Washington National Cathedral for example. That church is beautiful beyond words. One of my favorite areas is the Resurrection chapel. It is ironic that the bishop of that diocese does not even believe in the orthodox understanding of the resurrection. Our stain glass windows have scenes from the life of Christ that in our reductionist thinking couldn’t have even happened and are occasionally derided as absurd. We in ECUSA do “pretty” very well, but we lack the True, the Good, and the Beautiful.

I have often heard orthodox believers defend the Episcopal Church in its social justice ministries, an area, admittedly where conservatives are often weaker. There was a T-shirt available in an Episcopal Women’s publication that said (not an exact quote): “Social Justice is Orthodox.” Not entirely true. Saying “orthodox Christianity must always have a social justice component” would be more correct. Just doing “social justice” isn’t always orthodox. I want to emphasize again the importance of social justice because the early Christians always worked to literally fulfill Christ’s commandments regarding peace, the homeless, the poor, the naked, etc. But today, much social justice is done, not on the basis of one’s faith, but out of a spirit of activism. Consequently, liberal causes are assumed to be God’s causes (in fairness, many conservatives do the same thing, like thinking God wants lower taxes for Fortune 500 CEOs.). The early Church followed Christ literally because they believed he was the resurrected Son of God, whose words and deeds were vindicated by the Father. I don’t want to malign those who are doing good work in the Episcopal Church, but too often we don’t have the social Gospel, we just have social work. The Gospel is divorced from the equation and the church functions more like a government aid institution. Many Episcopal and mainline ministries do not even allow the sharing of the Gospel in their social ministries. Once again, we have something that is a good service, but the Christian substance is gone.

Our greatest idol over the years in the American Anglican and Episcopal Churches has been our unity. Yes, even unity has been an idol. We have been so concerned with keeping everyone happy and everyone together, that we have abandoned biblical and catholic Christianity except on paper (and sometimes not even there). Christian unity has never been about simply staying together for the sake of peace without real substantial unity. True Christian unity is a unity of both the catholic faith and mission. At the most recent General Convention, the Episcopal Church voted on a motion to affirm some of the most basic teachings of Anglicanism (and even Christianity!). It failed 84-66. If these bishops cannot affirm the most basic elements of our faith, then we have no real unity in faith with them. Some bishops have endorsed the view that the Church should not try to evangelize people of other faiths, while others hold to beliefs that all ways lead to God. How can this be reconciled with those Episcopalians who believe in the Great Commission and seriously follow it? Thus, we have no basic unity in mission either. Some of the newest calls for unity from more liberal leaders base this unity on “diversity” and “inclusion.” This approach is not classically Anglican and certainly not catholic and it will never lead to true unity, just an empty, hollow shell that the revisionists can praise in the name of diversity. However, for catholics, evangelicals, and charismatics it can be nothing but an idol.

I must confess my personal role in the current crisis. I, like many orthodox Episcopalians, have been content to sit on the sidelines, promoting “niceness” and “politeness” while our leaders have been gutting the Church of its substance. Many conservatives, myself included have been the real latitudinarians, while the liberals have been promoting their unified vision for the Church. Not wanting to make waves or rock the boat, we have stayed on the sidelines while ECUSA has been transformed in a non-catholic, barely Christian institution.

Many of my friends ask (correctly): why the furor over Gene Robinson? After all, what about Spong and Bennison and Pike and other rogue bishops? Robinson, unfortunately for him, has become the symbol of all the frustration of orthodox believers over the years. His consecration is not an isolated incident that a few reactionaries are steaming over. Rather, it is the last straw for many faithful people who have stuck it out over the years in a Church where they no longer can find a home. I am one of those people. I joined the Episcopal Church in 2000 because I was attracted to the Anglican faith. I loved CS Lewis and the Church Fathers, and in my estimation, the Anglican Church was the best example of their faith in practice. But instead, in ECUSA, I got the faith of Bennison, Spong, and others, cloaked in the ceremonial. I fell in love with Episcopal Church in 2000 and it seemed like a great home. But it was not the Church I thought it was (barely even Anglican) and all my rationalizations (like there is a silent orthodox majority that will rise up) were just vain attempts to cover up the truth. I was always fond of telling my “story” of becoming an Episcopalian, but no more. Upon examination, it is with great sadness that I must confess: I was in love with an idol.

Imagine if a group within the Sierra Club no longer wanted to fight for the preservation of the environment. Imagine instead that this group, while maintaining to be the Sierra Club, actually lobbied against environmental protection. Naturally the Sierra Club would be completely ineffective in anything it does. This is the mainline situation.

There are two churches in nearly every mainline. Now a group of Methodists wants to recognize this and move on. As bad a split would be, it would be even worse to stay on. It’s not that the mainlines contain a differing of opinion on some issues. No, rather, they contain two groups within them that have totally different, completely opposed, un-reconciliable worldviews. This goes way beyond diversity of opinion and into the heart of the institution. Two totally opposed worldviews can co-exist in a record club or quilting circle, but not in a Church or any other organization that wants to effectively reach out and change the world.

The Methodists make a good point about their recent “victory” at their annual convention: it will never be a final one. I would bet everything in my possession that the revisionists will bring up their agenda at each successive convention ad infinitum (and nauseum). In other words, the orthodox Methodist worldview of making disciples of all nations and converting them to personal holiness will never reach fruition because the revisionists will always be pushing to change the Methodist Church. How can the Methodists or any Church move forward if every Convention they are forced to revisit the past and debate the same issues?

This is why I totally support the Anglican Network being formed in North American. The National Episcopal Church and its official gatherings represent a worldview at odds with the Scriptures and tradition. That worldview and mine can never be reconciled, period. It would be great to be in a Church where we don’t have to revisit heresy every time we gather as a body. I’d love to be among a group of American Anglicans and know when someone says the creed it is said without the crossing of fingers or intellectual gymnastics. If we don’t have to keep arguing about the basics, maybe we could actually move forward in our mission. If you keep trying to re-invent the wheel, you pretty much stay put. The orthodox Anglicans in the Network get it and now it seems the evangelical Methodists do too.

You Are Not Alone

I remember what struck me most about my first experience with Anglicanism and the catholic faith and liturgy. It wasn’t the beautiful language, the sacraments, or the sense of awe and mystery (although these affected me greatly!). Rather, it was something more simplistic and common: the use of “we” and “our” in the liturgy. As an evangelical (my upbringing until age 22), I had always lamented the lack of community and togetherness. I don’t mean some sort of mushy touchy feely stuff, but a real spiritual kinship and community of support. Sure, we had the mixer type activities, but spiritually everyone was so far over the place I never felt I had any connection to anyone else’s spiritual life except maybe that we were in the same building on Sunday morning and prayed to the same God.

Perhaps this is an inherent weakness in dictionary definition evangelicalism. I heard so many times that Christianity is a personal relationship with Jesus that I was led to believe (even if the person hadn’t intended it) that spiritually nothing else mattered. “Quiet Times,” or for the non-initiated, daily private prayer and devotion time, took center stage, even over church and other spiritual activities. I was never once questioned about missing church, but consistently asked about the quality and frequency of my quality time.

Not only was a bodily support network not important (and consequently not present), a heavenly support network was non-existent. The Communion of the Saints was either ignored, denied, or changed to mean just those who happened to be walking around in a local church. When my brother was reading St. Clement of Alexandria he was amazed to read that Clement believed that when we pray it’s not just us praying, but a multitude of angels and saints present with us. Clement put to words the sneaking suspicion I had all along: this it’s just me and God thing doesn’t cut it. It is about a personal relationship with Jesus, but also a corporate one. The two go hand in hand and can’t exist or thrive without the other. The same is true for “quiet times.” Every Christian needs personal time with Jesus (I could never live without it!), but also the corporate relationship. They too go hand in hand and without each other, worship in spirit and truth is impossible. I leave you with Clement:

“In this way is he [the true Christian] always pure for prayer. He also prays in the society of angels, as being already of angelic rank, and he is never out of their holy keeping; and though he pray alone, he has the choir of the saints standing with him [in prayer]” (Miscellanies 7:12).

The newest talk on the net is that the Lambeth Commission, which is trying to keep the Anglican Communion together, is considering making the Anglican churches a federation instead of a communion. This allows church diversity and even for one church to be out of fellowship with another. In other words, previously the Anglican Church stood for nothing in a de facto sort of way (mainly through renegades like ECUSA), but now there is talk of making this a part of our institution! What a disaster. You believe in the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, we believe in Gaia, Sophia, and Isis. No biggie, it’s all “Anglican.” If this happens, Anglicanism will forfeit its claim to catholicity. The fact that this has been endorsed mainly by Western, liberal, declining provinces should be enough to convince orthodox Anglicans to run far away from this proposal.

A Glimpse of the Future

Arwen: “You have the gift of foresight. What did you see?”
Elrond: “I looked into your future and I saw death!”
Arwen: “But there is also life. You saw there was a child, you saw my son!”
Elrond: “That future is almost gone.”
Arwen: “But it is not lost.”

Those among the orthodox remnant in ECUSA often play the role of Elrond, but we’ve recently had an Arwen moment. In Atlanta, GA, the bishop of Bolivia re-affirmed over 330 people at 2 services. This included 6 baptisms, 38 confirmations, and 44 receptions. In other words, there were 88 people not previously associated with Anglicanism that found Jesus through the Anglican Way. And all this in a congregation that meets in a school cafeteria. For too long evangelism in American Anglicanism has had the millstone of the National Church to contend with. Now we see a non-ECUSA (yet still Anglican, via Bolivia) parish exploding in growth (the priest expects to double in the next 18 months). And clearly this is not all angry Episcopalians, but new converts to Christ and to Anglicanism. I pray this is a glimpse into the future, the future of a non-ECUSA Anglican Communion in the United States and Canada. Amid all the recent nonsense, especially the “marriage” of Bishop Otis Charles, we see death and the future looks almost gone. But as Atlanta shows, there is also life. The future is not lost.