Hurting People and Breaking Stuff

In the current crises wracking the Anglican Christian part of the Body of Christ, we need even more to remember the cheery and life-giving doctrine of Divine Judgment. We need to remember it, and know it is part of God's nature that justice, truth, mercy and perfect final judgment shall have the final say for each soul, and for each race.

It is perhaps the loss of this doctrine and sense of judgment that helps explain where we are, and how we got here.

This is the famous title of a sermon more reviled than read. Preached by American protestant revivalist Jonathan Edwards (1703-1758) in Enfield, Connecticut on July 8, 1741, it touched the root of a spiritual crisis in the mid-18th century, and led not to low self-esteem and nightmares, but to a great spiritual revival. In many ways, Edwards

....has come to emerge as a quintessential "representative man," not in the usual sense but because in some profound sense he marked the culmination of one era and prefigured a subsequent one. While other colonial figures exerted comparable influence on their own age, none, with the possible exception of William Penn and Benjamin Franklin, so completely anticipated the subsequent shape of an American culture, at once material and spiritual, piously secular and pragmatically sacred, as did Edwards....

A remarkable testimony to the ability of one preacher; the influence of lively faith to shape and reshape a society; and the need to keep a true perspective on life, whether secular or sacres, as under the judgment of God.

The sermon-title itself has become a kind of caricature for liberal and skeptical critics of Christianity, who imagine-- perhaps-- that if we could just be more positive and affirming, we'd be able Make The World A Better Place more quickly, by unleashing all the repressed and pent up inner goodness in people. We are non-sinners in the hands of a not angry God! Hurray! Therefore, Classical Christianity-- Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant-- needs to jettison the depressing and bullying thought of a mean old God, hell-fire, and all that stuff. Or as C.S. Lewis memorably put it:

By the goodness of God we mean nowadays almost exclusively His lovingness; and in this we may be right. And by Love, in this context, most of us mean kindness — the desire to see others than the self happy; not happy in this way or in that, but just happy. What would really satisfy us would be a God who said of anything we happened to like doing, "What does it matter so long as they are contented?" We want, in fact, not so much a Father in Heaven as a grandfather in Heaven — a senile benevolence who, as they say, "liked to see young people enjoying themselves," and whose plan for the universe was simply that it might be truly said at the end of each day, "a good time was had by all."

However, the liberal exponents of such judgmentless and utopian views seem to paradoxically prefer more and more control over everything and everyone-- as seen in New Westminster, Philadelphia, Accokeek, New Hampshire, and countless other places where ecclesiastical power has recently been used to maintain unity at the cost of truth. Or in the example of the defiant and rebellious conduct of American Church leaders refusing to listen to ANglican or ecumenical guidance, reminders, or warnings. As the poet T.S. Eliot put it:

She is tender where they would be hard, and hard where they would like to be soft.

"They constantly try to escape From the darkness outside and within By dreaming of systems so perfect that no one will need to be good.

And the Son of Man is crucified always And there shall be Martyrs and Saints. And if blood of Martyrs is to flow on the steps We must first build the steps; And if the Temple is to be cast down We must first build the Temple.

When secularity-- or even sacrilege-- in sacred garb parades and preens in the church; when heretics walk unpunished and the faithful are pressed down: then things are broken, and people get hurt-- all in the name of a 'loving' God of tolerance, and the juggernaut of Making The World A Better Place.

For if God cannot or does not judge, power is unaccountable, and justice-- as variously concieved by those currently in power-- must urgently be done, before the opportunity is lost. When the end literally justifies any means, then any lie, any contradiction, any bending or breaking of truth or vow or simple human decency or actual lives-- anything is justified.

In the great chorus of "But we didn't mean for THAT to happen" at the Last Judgement, before the throne of Christ (and we'll be near the front of the line), all our good intentions, blind hopes, self-justifications, evasions, and excuses will not protect us from knowing what our actions or inactions meant, and cost. We were eagerly embracing sin, and death, and hell. We cost the Cross.

To have thoughtlessly embraced the merciless gods of this world will be no excuse. To have acted on their behalf while bearing the name of Christ will be less than no excuse. To have unrepentently hurt people and broken stuff in the name of such poor gods-- to have all hell break loose through us-- is to risk the unspeakable punishment reserved for those who choose to hate God eternally.

In any era, any time-- especially one as chaotic as ours-- it is hard to know what the right road is, and what to do. Every path is fraught with danger, uncertainty, unknown consequences. We come to know ourselves (if we are wise) to be small, weak, imperfect, uncertain, and more besides. As the characters put in in the J.R.R. Tolkien novel The Lord of the Rings,

"I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo. "So do I," said Gandalf, " and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All that we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us."

As Canadian priest and persecuted New Westminster Christian leader Rev. Ed Hird put it in a recent essay,

One of the most gripping moments in the Lord of the Rings was when Frodo had fully counted the cost and still courageously said: ‘I will take the ring, though I do not know the way.’ Frodo at that moment was choosing to face Mordor’s wasteland, vicious Orcs, giant spiders, and betrayal by Gollum. The greatest danger that Frodo faced was the ever-present temptation to grasp the Ring for himself, and make use of its vast power for his own benefit. After destroying the ring in the Crack of Doom, Frodo was deeply hurt by his self-sacrifice but reminded his friend Sam that ‘when things are in danger, some one has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them.’ Frodo’s selfless actions remind me of the words of Jesus: ‘If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it’.

In the end, Frodo marches into danger, and with the help of his friend Sam, saves his world from incarnate evil.

Perhaps Ed Hird and the example of many suffering Western traditionalists and other Anglican Christians worldwide reminds us that sometimes our calling is not to skip over the hard bits in search of some short-term victory, for Providence may have a larger design for us than we can ask or imagine. We choose the good on the far side of the evil, not counting the cost. Or again, we may indeed be on the brink of victory, when darkness seems the darkest, and evil the most intolerable and out of control. It might not be a victory we personally will enjoy-- in a few days we remember the ultimate sacrifice in wartime of so many young people to defend the good things of our civilization-- but it may well still be a victory for truth, for goodness, for humanity, for unknown and countless others, and for God's Kingdom. We will remember them.

Perhaps one lesson of these times for our soft and comfortable Western Anglicanism is that suffering can also be a vocation, a calling from God; dying well can also be a vocation. Eliot put it movingly in his poem when he writes--

St. Peter wrote under the most dire conditions, as the tiny early church endured life-or-death persecution:

For it is commendable if a man bears up under the pain of unjust suffering because he is conscious of God. But how is it to your credit if you receive a beating for doing wrong and endure it? But if you suffer for doing good and you endure it, this is commendable before God. To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps.

"He committed no sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth." When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly. He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed. For you were like sheep going astray, but now you have returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.

Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed. If you are insulted because of the name of Christ, you are blessed, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests on you. If you suffer, it should not be as a murderer or thief or any other kind of criminal, or even as a meddler. However, if you suffer as a Christian, do not be ashamed, but praise God that you bear that name. For it is time for judgment to begin with the family of God; and if it begins with us, what will the outcome be for those who do not obey the gospel of God? And,

"If it is hard for the righteous to be saved, what will become of the ungodly and the sinner?"

So then, those who suffer according to God's will should commit themselves to their faithful Creator and continue to do good.

Here is a reminder of a forgotten part of our Christian vocation-- a gift to ourselves, and to the wider Christian world, much of which is already enduring such tribulation. To shrug it off is to risk denying providence, the vocation to take up our cross and follow our crucified and risen Lord and saviour, and all who have given their witness to our Lord and Master in sorrow, blood, or lives laid down. To not support Christians called to such a vocation-- by prayer, letters, finacial support, or whatever else is called for-- is to walk past the man injured by the side of the Jericho road-- "Perhaps some Samaritan will show up-- I feel bad, but it's not my concern." To not pray for our enemies and ask grace to forgive them and love them more than they love us, is to risk judgment ourselves. After all, God has the final word-- he is Lord, and judge of all. God will have-- We are all under judgment, not over it. As one comment or puts it "We do not occupy a privileged place in the divine counsels. Every last one of us is and remains *under* judgment until the Final Verdict is issued, either in the Particular Judgment at our death or on the Last Day at the Last Judgment.... [we] need to remember [our] place: under, not over, the judgment of God, along with the rest of the human race."

As Canadian theologian, preacher and teacher Dr. Robert Crouse has recently said,

"Certainly, the tribulations of the Church in our day are manifold.... But for us, I think, that perspective needs to be balanced by two considerations. First, we must not become so preoccupied by our local, provincial or national concerns that we fail to see and fail to be spiritually nourished by the vast numbers of faithful Christians, including the vast majority of Anglican Christians, here and elsewhere, who witness to the faith, sometimes in dire circumstances, sometimes at the cost of their lives. Secondly, we must know ourselves to be upheld by the witness of all the saints: by the witness of all who have been in Christ before us, who live in a faithfulness which does not falter. As John Ellerton put it in one of his hymns:

They name is blessed by countless numbers In vaster worlds unseen, unknown, Whose duteous service never slumbers, In perfect love and faultless tone.

These are matters which the festival of an Evangelist should impress on our minds: "watch thou in all things, endure afflictions, do the work of an evangelist, make full proof of thy ministry." Watching and witnessing: that is our evangelical vocation. If we are true to that vocation, even our tribulations turn into blessings, even our sins become occasions of more abundant grace.

It is perhaps the loss of this doctrine and sense of judgment that helps explain where we are, and how we got here.

I don't think there's any "perhaps" about it.

And it has been a conscious omission, too: if you look at the Rite I confession in the 1979 prayerbook, you'll find it to be strikingly similar to that in the '28 prayerbook, except that the phrases "there is no health in us," and "miserable offenders" were deleted.

This of course enables the "we're basically good, and all we have to do is find ourselves" approach that has replaced Judgement.

Of course, as I know all to well from personal experience, it's easy to take Judgement too far, too, and to forget the forgiveness Jesus offers us.

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