Holy Habits

For most of the last month I have been traveling, visiting family and attending a variety of church functions. It feels like I've spent more days in airports and hotels than I have at home. It has predictably been challenging during that time to maintain a regular schedule of disciplined sleep, eating, exercise, and prayer. I relaxed my usual routine, but instead of being freeing, it has actually felt very unsettling. It has been a huge relief to return home to a stable pattern of living, to the grounding of holy habits.

Maybe that sounds pretentious, dull, or overly pious. And that wouldn't surprise me. After all, in 2016, discipline is counter-cultural, especially when it pertains to religious belief and practice. Athletes embrace discipline as a an indispensable pathway to excellence; and yet it is strongly resisted, even among many clergy. But I believe discipline is a indispensable pathway to--well, not excellence, in a competitive sense--but to greater faithfulness and spiritual maturity. There's no doubt about it; discipline can be hard, unpleasant. So many days I'd rather just lounge on the sofa in front of the TV, and sometimes I do. Sometimes, I'm just lazy. I still believe, though, that discipline has value, and we need to work on it. Our cultural valuation of immediate gratification lets us off the hook way too easily way too often. In addition, our preoccupation with novelty and devaluation of discipline can feed into our impatient expectation to see instantaneous results. But excellence in any human endeavor requires patience and an unwavering commitment. As one of my mentors once said from the pulpit, "don't you want a religion that requires something of you?"

One of my trips this month was to Atlanta for the 2016 Society of Catholic Priests Annual Conference. This year the conference theme was priestly formation, which not only includes the structure and content of academic preparation, such as seminary, but also the spiritual shaping of priests, both new and seasoned. Over three days, we prayed, sang, and worshiped together. We heard scholarly presentations and engaged in deep theological reflection. We formed and nourished friendships and offered each other emotional support. Though the discipline of prayer and study can be exhausting, I always find those few days exhilarating, as well. I come back home feeling recharged and renewed in my commitment to do better, resolved to pray more regularly, to go to spiritual direction and sacramental reconciliation, to eat more healthily and exercise more. As Dr. Luke Timothy Johnson declared at the conference, the job of the priest is to work to become holy. Pretentious, dull, or pious as that assertion may sound (I can see people's eyes rolling), it's still true, and that is humbling ... and daunting.

This message was reinforced this past week, when I attended our diocesan clergy conference. Over two-and-a-half days, we explored the development of a personal rule of life. As a member of the Society of Catholic Priests, I have already vowed to keep the Society's rule of life, but the clergy conference raised a number of personal dimensions that would enhance my health and well-being, and as a Christian, my faith. These commitments, whatever we discern them to be, will take discipline, too. One of the confessions I made is that I often rely on the accountability of other people who love and care about me to endure in my spiritual disciplines when I don't have the willpower to keep myself on track. My husband has said to me more than once, "Ethan, aren't you supposed to be saying Evening Prayer right now?" "Hrmph," I reply, and then shuffle sulkily toward my study to pray. I'm very grateful to him for holding my feet to the fire, for all my adolescent sulking.

At least once a year, I listen to the sermon the Rt. Rev. Rodney Michel preached at my ordination to the priesthood, which reminds me of the vow I made to practice holy habits. It is a sobering experience. Holy habits do take practice, a lifetime of practice, as it turns out. I always pull the earbuds out with a sheepish determination to do better. Nobody said it would be easy, but then most things worth having don't come without a huge amount of commitment, even when that commitment is uneven and halting at times. Yet this reminder of my imperfect discipline never feels shaming, because I know the bishop's advice came out of love. As our clergy conference speaker, the Rev. Charles LaFond, expressed it, "I love you too much to let you mess up like this." The tough love is encouraging, even though it is also intimidating. I will end by sharing with you the words that the good bishop offered me:

"As a priest, Ethan, you will be a servant of the servants of God, a friend, a companion, a marker on the road to the life of holiness that every believer is called to. You will model for others how to hold one another up in prayer, and by your presence you will help God's people remember that each relationship we experience is precious." 

"Remember the awesomeness of priesthood: you will now bless and consecrate, forgive sins, dispense the Word of God and his holy sacraments, and stand at the altar to make Jesus present in the Sacrament and in the moment, and that is awesome. Ethan Alexander Bingham Jewett, please stand. Remember that God does not expect you to be successful. God asks only that you be faithful: faithful to the Lord and to the Word of God as you will promise to do here today; faithful to God's people; faithful to your family; and faithful to your own self. Be diligent in your prayers and study of the Holy Scriptures. Administer the Sacraments and preach the Gospel and model quietness, peace, and love among all people. Remember to keep balance in your life and make time for your beloved and your personal relationships. [...] Say your prayers everyday. Our Blessed Mother intercedes for the ordained--continually ask for her prayers and her love. And finally, keep your eyes on Jesus."

Thank you, Bishop Michel, for this advice about holy habits. And I now pass this advice on to you, my sisters and brothers, as I resolve to do better.

Abundant blessings,
Fr. Ethan+

Preserving the Nicene Creed

I am just back in the parish after having been on the road for a solid week, first at the Society of Catholic Priests annual meeting in Denver, and then at the Diocese of Chicago's clergy conference. Both events provided a stirring experience of the universality of the Church, the fact that we live out the Christian faith in our own distinct contexts, animated by different cultural traditions, pieties, and musical styles. And our theologies are often varied, as well. We discussed, debated, and even argued about what constitutes solid Anglican teaching. Are hospitality and justice, for example, sufficient reasons to change, say, the Church's official position on the communion of the unbaptized? Do they provide an adequate justification for revising the marriage rite in the Book of Common Prayer to encompass same-sex couples, or is more theological work needed?  And then, there's the Nicene Creed, another topic on which much digital ink has been spilled this week.

The core issue of the Nicene Creed is its status in a revised Prayer Book. Should it be included, and if so, why? In what form should it be retained? Should it remain a normative and integral part of the primary service on Sundays? Regardless of our different ministry contexts, the Nicene and Apostles' Creeds serve as a focal point of unity in the Anglican Communion. It will probably not surprise you to hear that people of good conscience have expressed a variety of views on this subject. And I am among them. So, here are my top five concerns about the Nicene Creed:

1. Restore the original Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed. My beloved read the words Niceno-Constantinopolitan over my shoulder and said it sounded like an exotic ice cream medley. I laughed and admitted that this blog entry might seem a bit esoteric and pedantic to some, so if it is, my apologies. But, in all seriousness, I think the Nicene Creed is a topic worthy of thoughtful debate. As "Crusty Old Dean," Tom Ferguson, has colorfully argued on his own blog, the Episcopal Church should decisively get rid of the filioque clause in the Nicene Creed that claims that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father AND the Son. For one, the filioque muddles and problematizes orthodox Trinitarian theology. Secondly, it was a unilateral decision to counter the Arianism of the Teutonic Christians, who viewed Jesus as inferior to the Father. Originally added at the Council of Toledo in 589 and later enforced by Charlemagne, the reason it was contrived no longer exists. To revert to the original Creed as formulated at the Ecumenical Councils of Nicaea in 325 and Constantinople in 381 would more faithfully recapture the sensus fidelium of the early Church that we embrace and pass on to future generations.

Archbishop Michael Ramsey

2. Pass the torch. Each generation of the faithful is charged with passing on the core tenets of the faith to the next. Archbishop of Canterbury, Michael Ramsey, wrote on the first page of The Anglican Spirit,

"I want to talk about some of the main enduring characteristics of Anglican tradition, the way in which the Anglican Church has in its life and teaching, theology and sacraments, given over that divine paradosis--which is the Greek word for something that has been 'handed over' or 'passed on.' For when we Christians speak of tradition, we mean the experience of the Christian community lying authentically within that which God through Christ has handed over for the revelation of himself and the salvation of men and women everywhere" (Ramsey, 1).

So, for example, what is the point of the catechumenate if we fail to hand over the core beliefs of Christianity as preserved in the Nicene Creed. In the current version of the catechumenate in the Book of Occasional Services, the direction is given that "it is appropriate that the Apostles' (or Nicene Creed) be given to the Candidates for Baptism on the Third Sunday in Lent and the Lord's Prayer be given to them on the Fifth Sunday in Lent." If we dispense with the Nicene Creed, then exactly what faith are we passing on? What statement of belief are they receiving?

3. Prayer Book revision. This leads me to Prayer Book revision. Dr. Derek Olsen has addressed a number of concerns that have arisen from a recent statement on Prayer Book revision from his colleague on the Standing Commission on Liturgy and Music, The Rev. Dr. Ruth Meyers. Dr. Meyers described the Nicene Creed as a stumbling block for many, and proposed that it not remain a standard feature of Sunday worship. This suggestion ignited the blogosphere and occasioned a flurry of responses, such as in the Living Church and on the Smoking Thurible blog. The Nicene Creed, I would argue, forms part of the esse of the Church, and is therefore not dispensable. Olsen argues, moreover, that Meyer's proposal is symptomatic of a cultural shift away from orthodox Christianity toward a variety of heresies aligned with Moral Therapeutic Deism. C. S. Lewis makes the point in Letters to Malcolm, for example, that "first, [common prayer] keeps me in touch with 'sound doctrine.' Left to oneself, one could easily slide away from 'the faith once given' into a phantom called 'my religion.' [...] By the way, that's another thing to be avoided in a revised Prayer Book. 'Contemporary problems' may claim an undue share. And the more 'up to date' the book is, the sooner it will be dated" (Lewis, 12). If you don't believe Lewis, take a look at Eucharistic Prayer C (referred to by people of diverse churchmanship as the "Star Wars Prayer") in the 1979 Book of Common Prayer, and tell me it doesn't seem dated, despite its often lovely, lyrical imagery. As a guy who grew up in the 1970s, it does have a bit of a ''groovy, man" vibe to me.

4. Foster ecumenism. The current version of the Creed with the filioque is a serious obstacle to ecumenical work. Lest we forget, the filioque was one of the primary disagreements that led to the Great Schism between the Western and Eastern Churches in 1054. The Anglican Oriental Orthodox International Commission met last week in Wales, during which the Anglican representatives agreed to remove the filioque and move the two communions closer together. Dean Ferguson clarifies that the removal of the filioque is not meant simply to placate Orthodox Christians, who have long complained about its use among Roman Catholics and others (like us), but because it's a theological aberration that needs to be remedied. More generally, the Nicene Creed is not just an historical artifact. It remains the second component of the Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral of 1886/8 shaped by William Reed Huntingdon as the basis for Anglican ecumenical work: "The Apostles' Creed, as the Baptismal Symbol; and the Nicene Creed, as the sufficient statement of the Christian faith" (BCP, 877). I understand that this document, like the Articles of Religion (Thirty-Nine Articles) is housed in the "Historic Documents" section of the Prayer Book, but unless I've been misinformed, the historic Creeds, along with the Holy Scriptures, the dominical sacraments, and the episcopate, are still foundational principles for our ecumenical efforts.

Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed

5. Creeds are always necessary but not sufficient. During the Diocese of Chicago's clergy conference, the Rev. Dr. Mark McIntosh, Professor of Christian Spirituality at Loyola University Chicago, pointed out that "creeds are always necessary, but not sufficient." I absolutely agree with this statement--at least inasmuch as the Nicene Creed does not speak explicitly on every topic related to God or the Christian experience. There is much that we affirm about God and our lives as Christians that are not mentioned by the historic Creeds, and so I have at times complemented the Nicene Creed on Sunday morning with other affirmations as a way to encourage people to be reflective. The historic Creeds are the starting point of a spiritual journey. The Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral defines the Nicene Creed as the sufficient statement of the Christian faith, which I understand to mean that it supplies the essential foundation without being exhaustive like a multi-tomed systematic theology. But it does something else. In being the foundation, the Creed drives our seeking, leading us to be ever more curious, ever more passionate for God.

I realize that for many people reciting the Nicene Creed is difficult, containing certain theological propositions to which they cannot assent. It's tough for me, too. So, I get Dr. Meyer's point. But reciting the Creed is about more than agreeing intellectually with this or that statement. It's about affirming one's belonging to a heritage of faith and practice over many generations and seeking to live into the unfathomable mystery of God that the Nicene Creed expresses. In this way, the Church would not be the Church without it.

An Apology of Anglican Catholicity

The new Chicago Chapter of the Society of Catholic Priests

While Philadelphia (and the world) waited with great anticipation for Pope Francis to open the World Meeting of Families last Saturday, my friends and I were preparing for an event of our own here in Chicago. After two and a half years of discussion, discernment, and preparation, we gathered at Grace Episcopal Church in the city's South Loop for a mass to inaugurate the Chicago Chapter of the Society of Catholic Priests. It did not involve barricading downtown streets or ticker-tape parades. None of us drove through adoring crowds in a Pope-mobile. Just bread and wine, hymns and holy smoke, and champagne at the end.

The frenzy of activity and interest in the Pope's visit demonstrates the power that the notion of

Pope Francis greets admirers in Philadelphia

catholicity still has over people generally, and Anglicans, specifically. My Facebook feed filled with commentaries about Francis's statement on same-sex marriage and the ordination of women, the moral example he was setting by snubbing an invitation from congressional leaders to eat with the homeless, and even how his presence would likely influence the upcoming presidential election. In a way, it makes me sad that many Anglicans feel they have to piggyback onto the Roman bandwagon to satisfy their fascination for and experience of the universal Church.

It speaks to the fact that Anglicanism, including the Episcopal Church, is timid about claiming its catholicity. When we do it, it's in a half-hearted and qualified way, as if we're either embarrassed or not quite convinced of it. Maybe we feel insecure that we're so much smaller or that we're a more recent creation. Like the rural cousin that arrives to the fancy gala in her simple homespun dress, we feel we just don't measure up. After all, it's hard to compete with the sheer scale of the Roman Church's presence and of Pope Francis's popularity. But if Francis has taught us anything, it's that the Church is not about riches or pomp or who's got the tallest mitre.

John Jewel

I think about the many great theologians in our tradition that have crafted sophisticated apologies of the Church of England, how they too wrestled with the concept of catholicity. Whether it was an attempt to recapture the purity of the ancient Church, reconnect with the roots of pre-Reformation Sarum, or enter into a more expansive understanding of catholicity, they all had to make sense of the unique place of the ecclesia anglicana in the universal Church. Jewel and Hooker, Newman and Keble, Ramsey and Williams have thought and debated in just the same way we are thinking and debating within the Society of Catholic Priests. As I looked around Grace's sanctuary on Saturday morning, I remarked on the diversity of our members' priestly ministry, the variety of contexts in which we serve at the altar. We are urban and suburban, in mostly white congregations and mostly black, in small parishes and large, in broad churches and Anglo-Catholic churches, in affluent communities and in poor communities. If this doesn't represent the universality of the Church, then I don't know what does.

Abundant blessings,

Fr. Ethan+