On Where as in Where?

The Daily Office Continues

His Name is hallowed.

Given that God belongs to all who seek,
Given that re-fathering by God in Jesus is always on offer,
Given that God reigns in the heavenly throne room
In the vastness of the created universe,
In the intimacy of the skies above and the air we breathe –
His Name is hallowed  — it could not be otherwise.

Yet the Incarnate Logos bids us be bolder:
The creation and its creatures are not yet as they should be.
The ironically named homo sapiens languishes in the ruins of its own priesthood.

The Incarnate Logos has taken those priestly ruins
Into Himself.
And knowing at last the darkness of the estranged priest, cries out:
Eli, Eli lama sabach-thani?
And like Gandalf with the Balrog, carries the poisoned priesthood into death.

But this is no wizard of epic tales,
It is the Word behind all storytelling.
Death is dead.
The Word liberates its former prisoners, slaves of Mordor.
And on the third day…

The Kingdom earlier proclaimed is coming into focus.
The Kingdom prayer gains incarnate substance,
And therefore greater urgency.
Thy Kingdom come, he taught them,
Thy will be done – where?
In me, in her who shares her life with me,
In us – an entity created by our vows in Him.
In places like the community in which we live,
And like the city where we served for fifteen years.
In all those places – in all places – on earth as in heaven?
Which heaven? For this is singular.
Is it the Third – maybe from our perspective.
Or from the King’s – the first.

And this we pray as He taught us.And this we pray so often.
And this we pray sometimes carelessly.
And this we pray sometimes desperately.
And in praying this often or carelessly or desperately, We have volunteered to be part of the answer.

Yet Another Advent Reflection

(from yet another retired pastor)

Advent, at least as far as the assigned Gospel readings were concerned, always felt backwards to me. We begin at the end, with signs of the end of the age and Jesus’ return, and we end at the beginning with either the Annunciation, Joseph’s dream, or the Visitation. In the prior lectionary (found in the 1928 Book of Common Prayer and going back to the 1662 Prayer Book from the Church of England), the annual Gospel reading for the First Sunday of Advent was Matthew’s version of the Triumphal Entry and the cleansing of the temple. But by the time I was confirmed, though the 1928 book was still in use, most Episcopal churches had adopted the three year cycle of readings which insisted on putting the end at the beginning, so that’s where I begin as well.

But why? Why begin the run up to the celebration of the coming of the Savior with such grim descriptions of the end times? I don’t know what prompted whatever committee was responsible for the lectionary revision, but my own take was that the readings and the prayer for the First Sunday of Advent was an assurance that the whole story we’d just rehearsed in the Christian Year just end was actually going somewhere. It would be both dramatic and traumatic, even for apprentices of Jesus and even more so for those who rejected the king and the kingdom. But in the end, justice would prevail and yet mercy would triumph over justice. And with that enigmatic word, the readings of the season move on to the forerunner, John the baptizer; and finally to the focus on Mary (and Joseph) in the months leading up to the birth of the Christ.

But that jarring beginning to Advent, while of relatively recent vintage, is essential as we start the observation of yet another Christian Year There will come a time when the upward spiral of the annual liturgical pilgrimage will reach its conclusion, the season of joyful anticipation will find its fulfillment, and the story will have finally – not concluded, but arrived. Even so, come Lord Jesus. And until You come, we’ll keep telling the story.

The Not Quite Converted Community (updated)

This week’s post, updated from a few years back, is continuing the Glacial Transformation theme. I’ve also prepared a post on human priestliness, tentatively titled “The Priesthood We Cannot Escape.” It’s about 60% complete which means it could be posted by Friday, or maybe sometime in early November. Before the advent of smartphones and social media I was perfectly capable of distracting myself into immobility. I really didn’t need help. But on with Glacial Transformation:

In the previous post, I examined Simon the Magician (Acts 8) as an example of an inadequate concept of conversion. If what is often called conversion is simply the inauguration of the conversion process, then Simon’s conversion, as told in that story, was merely a small beginning. The text does not support the attempts of many commentators to cast doubt on the authenticity of that beginning. Those attempts only reveal an assumption that the beginning is supposed to be the end. It is not. It is just the beginning.

Yet the distance between our beginning and our end – to show, unsullied, the character and person of Jesus through the lens of our unique personalities – is a long journey in which no part of our lives can be left unexamined. If that is a challenge to an individual Christian, it is a much greater one to a Christian community. The challenge becomes even more daunting because our cultural bias in the West leads us to underestimate both the reality and the power of community. While an individual may have some influence on a community, a community has a personality and a life that is not only greater than the sum of its parts, but is more capable of influencing us than we it. James K.A. Smith makes a similar observation regarding a type of community, the cultural institution: “However, there is an important sense in which cultural institutions take on a life of their own; while they are ultimately human creations, once they’re up and running, they cannot be reduced to the particular whims and interests of particular human beings. They assume a kind of systemic power that gives them an influence independent of individual agents. The result is that while cultural institutions are essentially human creations, there is also an important sense in which humans are the products of the formation we receive through cultural institutions.[1]

We find a more whimsical version in John Gall’s last edition of his book, The Systems Bible (the third edition of his original work, Systemantics). “Systems are like babies: once you get one, you have it. They don’t go away. On the contrary, they display the most remarkable persistence. They not only persist, they grow.[2]

The New Testament recounts the formation of numerous new communities through St. Paul’s missionary work. One community that seems particularly to have struggled with the process of conversion is the Christian community in the city of Corinth. At the time of Paul’s writing, Corinth was a thriving and prosperous port city. Like many commercial centers in our times, it was an expensive place in which to live. Additionally, like many modern cities, there were significant disparities in wealth, status, and education. The first Christian communities were notable for the diversity of their members: Jews and Gentiles, women and men, the rich and the poor, slaves and citizens of Rome. And yet…

Despite having a robust spiritual life, the Corinthian church faced some significant problems. The culture of the city infiltrated the church through its members. Several issues that Paul addresses in his letters reflect the culture of the city. There are factions around leaders. The eloquent Apollos and the blunt Paul are sharp contrasts, and the congregation seems split between the educated, who appreciate the oratory of Apollos, and those who prefer the blunt directness of Paul. There is also religious division between those who are sophisticated enough to disregard the old gods and goddesses of the classic world and those who still find power, however sinister, in the old religion.

However, the most significant evidence of a not-quite-converted community is in their “love feast,” which is a common setting for observing the Eucharist, also known as the Lord’s Supper. The continuing separation based on wealth and privilege has some with nothing to eat at the feast and some who continue pagan patterns of overindulgence. Jew and Gentile sharing a meal would be a radical thing for the Jewish believers in this new community. But sharing a meal with the rich and the poor was equally radical – a sign of a new humanity in Christ. The separation experienced in the Corinthian meal (one cannot call it a common meal!) was a clear indicator that the life of Christ’s new community had not yet permeated the customs and expectations of the Corinthian church.

Although much of Paul’s first letter is devoted to corrections, this was not a failed community. It was simply a community in the early stages of conversion. There was sufficient awareness within the community that a delegation had come to Paul, expressing their distress and concern. In one important regard, the situation of the Corinthian church was much clearer than that of churches in the West, particularly in the US. The world of ancient Corinth was a pagan world, characterized by its values and expectations. There was a Jewish presence in the city, but the separation Jews maintained from the surrounding culture meant that the life of the Torah had little impact or influence. In our day, on the dying edge of Christendom, the distinctions are not quite as clear. The assumption that Christianity is “normal,” even though its normalcy is under siege, masks the need of a community to experience ongoing conversion. The problem with “normal” is the question of whose norm we apply. Perhaps the ending of our former normal is a God-given moment where we can test that passing normal against the norms that Jesus and Paul set forth for the church.

What can help us get our communal conversion back on track is to explore the New Testament’s description and expectation of what a church is supposed to look like. Once we discover the disconnect between that description and expectation and the characteristics of “norms” of church life, conversion can resume in earnest.


[1] James K.A. Smith. Desiring the Kingdom, p. 72

[2] John Gall. The Systems Bible, p. 17

Glacial Transformation: In Defense of Simon Magus

https://apprenticepriest.substack.com/p/glacial-transformation-in-defense

Glacial Transformation

(Yes, again!)

Here’s my latest on the Apprentice Priest substack

https://apprenticepriest.substack.com/p/glacial-transformation

The Art of Paying Attention

Part 1

The new post on Substack: https://apprenticepriest.substack.com/p/the-art-of-paying-attention-314

This is why it’s called the Apprentice Priest

Reconnecting: The Apprentice Part

In an ongoing effort to render this old blog site habitable, a few items of furniture need to be brought into the sunlight again for a thorough cleaning. The first piece of furniture relates to the choice of its name: The Apprentice Priest.

Why Apprentice?

Today apprentice is not a synonym for disciple – but that’s because being an apprentice isn’t what it used to be. Unlike the reality show version of apprentice, modern apprenticeship is a step towards professional status in a trade. It does not involve living with one’s instructor or observing their lifestyle and character. 

I picked up the practice describing myself as an apprentice from Dallas Willard. He well may be the source of the current adoption of apprentice as an alternative to disciple. But apprentice is probably popular because it is new. Human culture will undoubtedly be able to drain it of substantial meaning as we did with Christian and disciple. Christian and Christianity are terms that come loaded with a great deal of baggage that has little to do with what we read in the New Testament. While I am happy to be known as a follower of Jesus or an apprentice of Jesus, I prefer not to accept the term Christian until I understand what associations it has for the person with whom I am speaking.

Disciple has its own problems. Alison Morgan reports: “In 2011 the Anglican Diocese of Gloucester conducted a survey among its clergy, asking what they regarded as the most important elements of discipleship. The survey reported widespread agreement across the diocese: clergy from all contexts and traditions selected ‘Bible study’ as the foremost activity of a Christian disciple, followed by ‘prayer.’ There was no suggestion that discipleship should involve any element either of ministry or lifestyle; indeed, ‘personal morality’ was rated bottom of the seventeen options offered, along with ‘witness’ and ‘faith at work.’”[1]  

Morgan later observes: “Jesus wasn’t training theologians; he was training practitioners, and the primary context of training was not the classroom but the community.’[2] This is consistent with Dallas Willard’s contention that “The term ‘discipleship’ has currently been ruined so far as any solid psychological and biblical content is concerned.”[3]

On the other hand, apprentice has an advantage over the other terms. Christian is rarely used to imply any relationship except that between Christ and the individual believer. However, to be an apprentice, you usually have to be apprenticed to someone. One can be a disciple of anyone, living or dead. But one can only apprentice oneself to a living person. Therefore, to be an apprentice of Jesus means a) that He is alive, b) He is accessible in relationship, and c) that relationship is capable of growing, evolving, and deepening.

Being an apprentice of Jesus the Christ is where I want to be. Sharing some of that journey’s failures and successes is one reason I’m resurrecting The Apprentice Priest. And the “priest” part of this? Maybe in a couple of weeks, I’ll have more to say.


[1] Alison Morgan, Following Jesus: The Plural of Disciple is Church, ReSource, c. 2015, p. 44

[2] Ibid, p. 48

[3] Dallas Willard, The Great Omission p. 53