The Emergence of the English Church

By Rev. Don Beyers, Assistant Curate

Westminster Abbey, London

As many of you know, we began this week our Lenten study series, Anglican 101. We had a great turnout at both our Tuesday and Wednesday sessions. While many attended, some were not able to join us for various reasons. All are welcome to our next session, offered again next week on Tuesday at 10:00 a.m. and Wednesday at 7:00 p.m. Each week I will post an overview of our discussion to help you share more fully in our time together.

Henry VIII: Founder of the Anglican Church?

We launched our series with an overview of our denomination’s history. I began our discussion this week with a question: when did the Anglican Church begin? As I suspected, each group identified Henry VIII’s break with the Church of Rome as the beginning of the church. The response didn’t surprise me.

Popularly speaking, most of us locate our church’s beginnings with Henry’s defiance of Rome. Henry, we learn in our history lessons, wanted to annul his marriage with Catherine of Aragon but the pope refused, leaving Henry with no choice but to establish himself as head of the Church in England. Unfortunately, this is a rather simplistic overview of our church’s beginnings.

The Early History of Christianity in the British Isles

The seeds that gave birth to an independent English church were planted long before Henry. One could almost argue they were sown at the very dawn of Christianity to the British Isles. Evidence suggests that Christianity first developed in the region in the late fourth century. Unlike other missions, the Christian communities that dotted the isles were centred around monasteries and not cathedrals. Furthermore, Christianity was shaped and formed by Celtic influences.

St. Augustine of Canterbury

Thus the Christianity of the British Isles took on a distinctive form and shape than the Christianity of continental Europe. Easter, for example, was celebrated on a different date than what was customary in Rome.

St. Augustine of Canterbury

By the end of the sixth century, Irish missionaries were traveling across the isles and continental Europe on missionary expeditions. Yet Christianity had yet to take root in other regions of the isles, namely the English south. As such, Pope Gregory the Great commissioned a Benedictine monk by the name of Augustine to travel to the isles to convert the remaining pagans and bring the churches into conformity with Roman practice and custom.

The Early Seeds of English Reformation

The Venerable Bede

According to Venerable Bede, one of the earliest historians of the English peoples and of the English church, Augustine’s efforts to align Christians with Roman practice were not always well received. It would be many decades before Christians would celebrate Easter according to Roman practice. Often the implementation of the date of Easter was imposed on peoples by force by kings and military might. The earliest seeds of the English Reformation were planted in this period, with the very resistance to Roman influence over the life of the English church.

As the English kings grew in power and might and slowly took control of larger parts of the British Isles, they questioned the power of the Church. The Church was a mighty force throughout Europe and in England. Monasteries attained great wealth and bishops often inherited greater wealth than many nobles. Kings were threatened by the influence of the bishops, particularly the Archbishop of Canterbury.

St. Thomas Becket

The well-know story of St. Thomas Becket illustrates the conflict between the Church and the kings of England. Originally a close ally of King Henry II, Thomas served as the king’s chancellor until his election and consecration as the Archbishop of Canterbury. Despite Henry’s hopes that Thomas would subject the Church to the king’s might, Thomas instead defended the rights and privileges of the Church. Given the Church’s tremendous temporal and religious power, Thomas’ actions proved too much for the king. In the end, Henry II ordered the death of Thomas. Thomas was murdered in Canterbury Cathedral.

Although scholars contend many of the details of Thomas’ martyrdom, his death reminds us that well before Henry VIII, English kings were determined to exercise supreme control of the Church within their realm. And the English kings were not alone in their quest for authority over the Church. Other kings exercised varying degrees of authority over the Church, often appointing bishops to major dioceses.

John Wycliffe

The conditions for the English Reformation were just about set by the end of the 15th century. In addition to the distinctive character and diversity of Christianity throughout the British Isles and the monarchy’s desire for control of the Church, early reform movements revealed a growing desire to renew people’s faith life.

John Wycliffe was one of the earliest of English reformers. He firmly believed the Bible to be the source of all Christian teaching. He challenged the importance of popes and monasteries in the life of the Church. Although Wycliffe died of a stroke, a later Church council declared him a heretic and had his remains removed from consecrated ground and burned.

Church in Turmoil

Despite attempts to quell any reform movement, many felt it was time for the Church to return to the Gospel. Tragically, few bishops listened. Scandals plagued the Church, with priests, bishops, and even popes abusing their authority and committing great abuses. Many clergy lacked fundamental education and often were incapable of ministering to their people.

Martin’s Luther’s Reformation

Matters turned for the worse in the early sixteenth century. Certain friars took advantage of the practice of indulgences.

At that time Christians believed in purgatory, a place where one would go after death if a person wasn’t completely purified of sin. Although assured of the promise of heaven, many Christians believed those in purgatory suffered tremendous punishments for great lengths of time. Many hoped to minimize their time in purgatory, if not altogether avoid going there.

To help Christians avoid purgatory or any punishment for their sins, popes would grant an indulgence, or remission of punishment, if a person performed certain penitential acts and went to confession. Some clergy took advantage of people’s fear of purgatory and hell. Instead, they proposed a person could buy an indulgence. People soon turned to buying indulgences for their hope of salvation.

Martin Luther

A young German monk by the name of Martin Luther learned of the selling of indulgences and renounced the practice. Luther argued we could do nothing to achieve our salvation. Instead, Christ has won for us our salvation by his death and resurrection. A Christian simply needs to have faith in Christ and trust in his promises.

Despite Church leaders’ attempts to stop Luther, Luther’s message quickly spread throughout Europe. To his great fortune, Gutenberg’s invention of the printing press made it possible for pamphlets and books to be quickly printed and disseminated. Luther’s reform quickly launched and he won many to his cause.

Henry, the Defender of the Faith

King Henry VIII

Luther’s reforms, however, were met with strong opposition back in England. There a young and ambitious king by the name of Henry VIII was assuming great power. While evidence suggests he was a man of great faith and learning, Henry likely feared the political instability caused by the German Reformation.

Henry wrote a defence of the sacraments and the ministry of the popes. Pope Leo X, the Bishop of Rome at the time, rewarded Henry for his work and granted him the title, Defender of the Faith, a title that Queen Elizabeth II continues to hold to our own day.

The Break from Rome

Within a short time, however, Henry VIII found himself embroiled in controversy. His marriage to Catherine of Aragon was in turmoil. Henry believed his wife was incapable of bearing him a male heir. This not only endangered his lineage but also the relative peace of the kingdom. Were he to die without a male heir, his successor could be contested.

Henry sought to annul his marriage to Catherine of Aragon. He appealed to Pope Clement VII but was not granted an annulment. In part because the pope had granted permission for Henry to marry Catherine in the first place and the pope further feared political turmoil with European kingdoms aligned with Catherine.

Unbeknownst to the pope, Henry appointed Ann Boleyn’s confidant, Thomas Cranmer, as the Archbishop of Canterbury. The pope confirmed the appointment only to later learn that Cranmer defended the annulment of Henry’s marriage to Catherine. Soon Henry declared himself the head of the Church of England; in turn, the pope excommunicated Henry, the once renowned Defender of the Faith.

The English Reformation

Despite Henry’s new role as the head of the Church of England, there were few drastic changes in the life of most Christians. Certain parts of public worship were translated into English and certain “Catholic” practices abolished. Some reformers were critical of Henry and Cranmer for not doing more. Henry remained thoroughly Catholic to the end. He did, however, abolish monasteries and assumed the monasteries’ property as his own.

Following Henry’s death, the English reformers, under the leadership of Thomas Cranmer, quickly went to work in reforming the English Church. Yet many reformers remained less than satisfied with Cranmer’s reforms. Still others believed Cranmer had gone too far.

Although Cranmer embraced many reforms, such as the reading of scripture and abolishment of clerical celibacy, he continued certain Catholic practices. For example, his first edition of the Book of Common Prayer in 1549 still named the celebration of Eucharist as the service of Holy Communion, commonly called the Mass. Later editions abolished the term Mass and simply refer to the liturgy as the Lord’s Supper. In many places, clergy continued to wear vestments, despite the desire of reformers for more simple attire, often consisting of a black cassock, white surplice and preaching scarf. 

Catholic or Reformed?

A question the English reformers faced by the middle of the 1500s was whether the English church was Catholic or Reformed. A word of clarification is helpful here. The English church still understood itself to be catholic, in the sense that it remained a part of the Church of Christ. And as we continue to profess today in the Creed each Sunday, we believe that the Church is “one, holy, catholic, and apostolic.”

The Church is one for we are united in one Lord, one Body, the Body of Christ. The Church is holy because Christ is holy. And the Church is catholic, because its mission is broad, universal, and far-reaching. Finally, the Church is apostolic, as it continues to proclaim Christ’s teaching as handed down to us by the Apostles.  

However, the word catholic carried another meaning for the Reformers. It was a term used to describe external appearances, teachings, and practices as one would find in the Church of Rome. Incense, vestments, and statues were all perceived to be catholic customs. Reformers opposed such practices as they considered them to be non-biblical.

Furthermore, any teaching considered Roman was considered suspect, if not wrong, such as belief in the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist. Many Reformers insisted the Eucharist to be a memorial, whereas those on the more “catholic” side maintained an understanding of the Eucharist as the real presence of Christ.

For centuries the Church of England would be torn between those on either side of the catholic and reformed debate. At times, the conflict between the two positions would be violent and deadly.

Interesting enough, the Church of England, unlike its fellow Catholic and Lutheran churches, did not establish a formal catechism or definitive church teaching. Instead, the foundations of the church’s teachings were the Bible, the apostolic creeds, and the Book of Common Prayer, which included the 39 Articles affirming the same.

In a way, the church’s lack of a clearly defined authoritative teaching has been both a blessing and a curse. A blessing in that the church allows for a wide range of theological opinion. A curse in that a lack of clear teaching has led to some division in the Anglican Communion today. The challenge for the Anglican Communion today is to hold a prayerful unity and respect for dialogue among those of differing opinion.

Fortunately, another position has been proposed over time, otherwise known as the via mediaor middle way. That position argues the Anglican Church to be both catholic and reformed. Although, as we shall discover next week, there are critics of even this position.

The issues that gave rise to the Church of England continue to challenge the Church today. Can the Church welcome diversity of theological opinion, discipline, and practice and still remain united as one? Who, or what, serves as the ultimate authority in interpreting the Bible and guidance of the Church? The Archbishop of Canterbury? The primates of the national churches? Bishops of local dioceses? These are the questions facing the Anglican Communion today. Interesting enough, they are also the very issues facing many other Christian churches, such as the Roman, Lutheran, and United churches.

Easily Deceived

Sermon for the First Sunday of Lent 2017
Rev. Don Beyers, Assistant Curate

Well, my friends, the season of spring is upon us. But not the spring you imagine. Certainly the weather outside makes that clear. No, I speak of another spring: the springtime of faith, the season of Lent. A season for spiritual renewal, a time for pruning the weeds that strap our soul, a time to clean the cobwebs that cloud our vision of the Good, the True, and the Beautiful.

Our season of Lent has its origins in the early Church when persons preparing for Baptism at Easter would be instructed in the faith and made ready for the great Easter feast. Through study, prayer, and penitential acts, the candidates would renounce their former ways so as to embrace the way of Christ. Over time, the preparation for Easter included all members and involved acts of penance.

Among those penitential acts was the practice of confession, a custom we continue to offer in our own time. Unlike our modern practice, Christians in the early Church made their confession publicly before the whole assembly of the church. They rightly understood that sin not only damaged our relationship with God, but with each other, the entire Body of Christ. It seems, however, that the public confession of sins loss its popularity — I wonder why — and took on a new form, that of individual confession with a priest.

Today, I am going to briefly return to that ancient practice. Fortunately for you, I am not going to call any of you forward to make your confession of sins before the congregation, but rather make a confession of a sin of which I am guilty: I depend too much on myself and don’t always trust God. While some of you might have hoped for a more provocative confession, you will be sorely disappointed. But hear me out for a moment.

Although my sin may seem mundane to you, it is one that I am profoundly aware of its dangers. If left unchecked, the deception that I can rely on myself can lead me to commit a greater sin, the sin of pride — the very sin that has brought humanity to its knees and left countless generations wounded. It is the sin of which the authors of the Book of Genesis were profoundly aware of its deadly venom. Thus their tale of the archetypal humans’ fall from grace, Adam and Eve. While not meant to be an account of a historical act, the temptation in the Garden of Eden painfully reminds us of our weakness, the fundamental brokenness that we experience and from which we can only be redeemed by God’s grace.

My often lack of trust in God manifests itself in subtle ways. At times, it is expressed in my anxiety about the future and my erroneous belief that somehow I can control what is to come, only to discover God’s plans are often greater than mine. Other times, I find myself filled with worry about even the smallest of things and I forget to entrust to God those matters for which I need his care. I can be easily deceived into thinking that I have all I need to accomplish all things. I often find that as soon as I fall into that trap, God makes a point of reminding me that there is nothing I can do, but simply entrust matters to his care.

I wonder, how often do we deceive ourselves into thinking we are more than what we are, much as Adam and Eve do in the story of Genesis. There we read that Adam and Eve ate of the fruit of the tree of knowledge believing that they would be like God and truly wise.

How often do we judge others as we believe God would judge them and condemn them for their acts? How often do we deceive ourselves into believing we know all things when words of gossip pass from our lips and shatter others’ lives? How often do we try to control others, stubbornly believing we will get our way if only we try? When we judge others, condemn others with our words, and control others, we fall trap to the very sin of Adam and Eve and trust in ourselves and not in God.

These are the very weeds that we must prune from our souls and minds this Lent, this springtime of faith. Rather than partake of the fruit of the tree, we are called to embrace Christ and follow his way.

Unlike Adam and Eve, Jesus does not partake of the fruit of the tree, but bears the weight of the wood of the tree of life, the cross of our salvation. Rather than exalt himself, Jesus humbles himself and gives his life for the life of the world.

We read of Christ’s humility and total trust in his Father in our Gospel today. I have long wondered why Jesus was tempted. The more I consider it, the more I realise Jesus had to experience what you and I experience each day so that he could reverse the sin of Adam and Eve, transform it, and redeem and save what was lost once so long ago.

Rather than depend on himself — as we are so often prone to do — Jesus gives himself entirely to his Father. Certainly Jesus could have changed rocks into bread, commanded his angels to save him from death, and declared himself king of all nations. Yet he does none of those things. Instead, he trusts his Father. As St. Paul says in our second reading from Romans, Jesus’ obedience to his Father’s will makes us righteous.

We must be likewise obedient to our heavenly Father. Our pruning hook is obedience, it is the tool by which we shall tear up the weeds of sin that weigh our soul down and prohibit us from flourishing in this springtime of faith. That is our task this Lent!

For many of us, the word obedience conjures up negative feelings and thoughts. We think of obedience as limiting our freedom. Yet obedience is nothing like that. Rather, as the Latin root of the word reveals, it means to listen and hearken. When we are obedient to God, we listen to God, and follow God’s will for us.

When we hearken to God’s call for us to be holy people, a priestly people, a people who live as he calls us to live, we discover a freedom beyond our imagination. We become what we are meant to be.

I am frequently reminded of this in my own life. When I abide by God’s command and live as he calls me to live, I experience a profound happiness. And God’s command is simple: love him with our whole heart, mind, and soul, and love our neighbours as ourselves.

It is when I deceive myself into thinking that I have all the answers, know all things, and act as such that I am most miserable. When we sin, a great weight is placed upon us. A burden far greater than what we can handle on our own. But when we renounce the way of darkness and turn to Christ and seek his grace, we experience true joy and freedom. God wants us to flourish.

God wants us to live in joy and happiness, love and peace. To get there, we need but be obedient to him, listen to him, to know our way.

How do we listen? By now, many of you might notice I place a tremendous emphasis on the importance of prayer in our life. I am a firm believer that it is by prayer, both personal and public, that we come to know God and the way we are to go in life. How do we expect to hear God if we do not set aside time each day to listen? Prayer is just that: placing ourselves before God, entrusting to God all our fears and anxieties, and inviting God to transform them by his grace.

To be clear, God may not answer our prayers as quickly as we may wish or even in the ways we want. That is not the point of prayer. Rather, we pray so as to invite God into our lives, into our suffering, our fears, our joys, hopes, and sorrows. With time, we will learn from God the way we are to go. Trust me, I wouldn’t be here were it not for long and dark nights of prayer over many years.

We listen as well when we read the scriptures and hear God’s Word spoken. Christ makes this clear in our Gospel today. Notice how he responds to each temptation with a quote from the scriptures. When we study the scriptures, we allow the Word to become our very breath, the life of our spirit.

Finally, we listen to God when we attend to God’s broken-hearted. When we give of ourselves to others, when we love our brothers and sisters, friends and strangers, we attend to God. We find the culmination of this on Maundy Thursday, at the very beginning of our Easter celebrations, when we kneel down before each other and wash each other’s feet and heed Christ’s command “to love one another as I have loved you.”

Therefore, my friends, our springtime of faith, our season of Lent, is a time for us obey God, to listen to his ways and place our trust and hope in him. Thus we make our lenten journey, our spring cleaning, through prayer, study of scriptures, and service of each other. How will you make your lenten journey?

Transcending Barriers

Image Credit: Rodney Smith

Rev. Don Beyers, Assistant Curate

When we think of Baptism, we immediately think of water. Yet there is another, equally important symbol in the baptismal rite: chrism oil. After a person is immersed in the waters, oil is poured over their head or marked on their forehead. 

The anointing is a deeply symbolic gesture. Born into new life through the waters of Baptism, we are marked as Christ’s own. Not only are we marked as sons and daughters of the God who loves us, we become like him who saved us: Jesus. That one small gesture radically reminds us of our new vocation to be Christ to the world.

A little background might help us understand this more fully. In biblical times, kings were anointed as a sign of their new mission to be leaders of God’s people and to ensure God’s kingdom, Israel. Over time, the kingly vocation took on new meaning as Israel’s existence was threatened by foreign conquest. The people began to long for a king who would liberate Israel and make of it a great nation as promised by God. This king would be in the line of David and would be the anointed one of God, otherwise known as the Messiah, a word meaning anointed one.

When Jesus began his ministry, people began to look to him as the Messiah, the liberator of God’s people. As such, his early disciples and Christian communities began to call him the Messiah, for in him they encountered God’s saving and liberating grace. Jesus was the anointed one of God. In Greek, the title messiah is translated as Christos, or anointed one. Thus we call Jesus, the Christ.

Although the gospels and other books of the New Testament attest to Jesus’ complete and total redemption of humanity by his death and resurrection, the early Christian community listened and adhered to Jesus’ command to proclaim, through word and deed, his saving grace to the whole world. The Church, the Body of Christ, became the living presence of Jesus in the world and continues to proclaim through works of justice and peace his saving grace.

Baptism, therefore, became the sacrament by which we are born into new life and into the Body of Christ, the Church. Each and every member of that body has a vocation to be Christ to the world. Symbolizing and manifesting that vocation, we anoint the newly baptized and command them to proclaim the Good News of God in Christ.

But how do we do that?

To understand our vocation to be Christ to the world, we turn to the gospels and see how Jesus lived and acted among God’s people. Today’s reading from the Gospel of John offers a profound insight into what our life and ministry ought to be if we are to be Jesus. We, like Jesus, are called to transcend all boundaries and seek relationships with all God’s people.

The story of Jesus’ visit with the Samaritan woman at the well is perhaps one of the most remarkable stories of all the gospels. It stands in striking contrast to the story of Nicodemus we heard proclaimed last week, the story which Fr. Jason spoke about. And if we pay close attention to this story, it ought to challenge us as it did the Jews who heard it proclaimed so long ago.

Unfortunately, however, we romanticize the story of the Samaritan woman at the well. In truth, however, the story is rather scandalous. It is a story of Jesus fundamentally violating the religious laws of his time. First of all, he sits with a woman. A single man never did that. Moreover, he sits with a Samaritan woman, a person from a much-despised ethnic group. Samaritans were once members of the Jewish people and were accused of not maintaining complete fidelity to God’s law because they intermarried with the people who once occupied the promised land. Finally, Jesus sits and talks with a woman who seems to have a questionable past. 

Despite all that, Jesus remains with the woman and talks with her. He forms a relationship with her. He asks her questions about her life and story. Although the woman is hesitant and uneasy about Jesus’ behaviour and questions, she remains with him, astounded by his knowledge of her, and his courage to defy the cherished laws of his day.

Remarkably, the conversation Jesus has with the Samaritan woman is the longest recorded conversation in the entire Gospel of John. No other figure has such a long dialogue with Jesus. It is also the first time Jesus reveals himself as the Messiah, the Christ. Jesus’ attentiveness and care for the woman inspires her to go and tell others in her community about Jesus. The Samaritan woman becomes the first evangelist.

Imagine the shock experienced by Jesus’ disciples who come along and find Jesus speaking with the Samaritan woman. Jesus talks with a woman! A woman known for her questionable life! And he choses to reveal himself to her and inspires her to proclaim the good news! The early hearers of this gospel story would have been deeply troubled. So, too, should we. Particularly as this account closely follows the story of Nicodemus, a highly-regarded teacher of the faith who was unable to understand Jesus’ teachings and know him. Jesus didn’t reveal himself to him, but rather to a woman.

If we are to be Christ to others, we must live and act as Jesus did so long ago.  We have to listen carefully to this gospel story and ponder it deep in our hearts. Jesus’ words and actions challenge us to go well beyond our comfort zones, well beyond the borders and divisions we make, to proclaim the good news of our salvation. We must sit with all God’s people and form relationship with them. 

To be sure, this is a difficult thing to do. I don’t know about you, but I sometimes find it difficult to relate to certain people. It’s much more comfortable for me to form relationships with those with whom I agree or identify. But God calls me not to comfort, but to go where I am most challenged and love all God’s people. I am called to proclaim the good news of God’s salvation to everyone, not just the righteous few. And so are you. Remember, you were baptized and called to the same vocation I was: to be Christ to all God’s people.

This is particularly true today, at a time when so many walls and divisions are being made between different peoples. Around our world whole groups of people are being forced out of their homes because of their religious, racial and ethnic identity, and social class. We are creating divisions within our own communities, between the right and left, black and white, rich and poor. Even within our churches there is division, either because of long-held hurts or deeply-held opinions. 

In Christ, however, there is no division. We are neither Anglican or Catholic, Canadian or American, conservative or liberal in Christ. Jesus came not for some and not for others, but for all. In Christ, we are all sons and daughters of the God who loved us. 

As Christians, as persons anointed to be Christ in the world, we are called to rise above our differences and come together in prayer as one. Although we may not always agree with one another on all matters, we should never let our differences cause divisions. Rather, like Jesus, we should seek to form relationship, to listen and talk with all God’s people.

This is why we gather around this table and unite ourselves as one in Christ. The sign of peace we shall soon share with each other is not just another ordinary pleasantry, but an expression of our desire to be as one. Only then can we stand and offer our great sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving to God. Only then can we partake of the one bread, one cup, and be nourished and fed by Christ himself.

My friends, will you join with me and be Christ to all God’s people? Will you show gracious hospitality and welcome all to the table? We may be amazed if we do. We might just inspire another person to go out, like that Samaritan woman so long ago, and tell others about the love of God encountered in our midst.