Saturday, June 12, 2021

Ten years: grief and joy

Today I celebrate ten years since I joined the Anglican Catholic Church. In leaving the CofE behind, I left behind much of what I loved. I miss the buildings, the choral tradition and the sense of being a part of English history and establishment. I also very much miss being in communion with old friends.

In many ways, though, it was me that was left behind as the CofE showed me clearly that our paths were markedly different. A DDO said of me that I was "loyal to a church that had passed away." I have come to realise that he was right. So, when the last straw fell onto the most preponderous pile that had grown, and I was forbidden from proclaiming the incarnation of the Lord - the core doctrine of the Church - at Evening Prayer in the words of the Angelus by a Rural Dean who was clear in her desire to eradicate all dissent, I finally allowed the CofE that I loved to pass away from me.

Joy always involves a death somewhere along the line: a moment of realisation that heaviness and heartache are not permanent and that we can be free to live. That moment of liberation in joy is exhilarating and terrifying. 

And so, even in the midst of death, I dare to rejoice because ten years ago I found my new home, and it looked like the old one. I found new friends and a new reason to carry on worshipping in the way that I was used to. I look back and realise that I have grown so much in those ten years. All has changed and for the better - well, not everything has changed. The Church has not changed and the ACC reflects that. 

Despite the lack of buildings, despite the fewness of members, despite the lack of choirs and concomitant triumphant pipe organs, it is the Church of England that I was once part of. It is the Church of England that I was told had passed away. My studies and research show that it is built upon surer and sounder foundations than the CofE.

I still look back and mourn the passing of the church that I once belonged to. Mourning is important because it shows that one still loves what has gone, and love is the key to living.

But, for the Christian, there is also the challenge, the almost obscene double-dare to rejoice in the face of grief because of the fact of Resurrection. The Christian lives with conflicting emotions and is almost torn apart by them: we weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice. We weep through love of neighbour, we rejoice through love of God.

As I watch my old church tear itself to bits, turn its churches into theme parks, close its choirs and allow the words of other religions to be read in its pulpit, I am sorrowful because I remember what she was and want my son who loves "church" to have the same experiences that I had and loved. I grieve with others who grieve, especially with those who have lost so much more than I have.

On the other hand, I rejoice because ten years ago, I was given hope and growth and a new potential to actualise. I have seen Missions open and close, but still the Anglican Catholic Church remains despite me being in it. I have studied it with the little faculties of reason God gave me, and it makes sense - more sense than the church that passed away from me. 

So, in the midst of hard work, in the midst of loss, in the midst of painful sacrifices, I rejoice heartily because I have much to be grateful for and much to look forward to.

One day, the double doors of the horizon will be flung open for me and its bolts unlocked. That will mean the same pain at leaving and the same joy of the great hereafter. My Church preaches that hope, and I rejoice in that.


2 comments:

Fr Anthony said...

I have greatly appreciated reading this post. I too once left behind a church of organs and choirs, of Choral Evensong and eccentric vicars and canons. It was perhaps only in my Roman Catholic days that I took doctrine and theology seriously.

The thing about the ACC is that it is what we are making of it. You and I, and others, have brought with us what was good and sublime in our old Church and English culture. Perhaps my rupture has been more radical than yours, no longer living in England. One thing I find about the ACC, since we have a more mature and stable Episcopate, is that it is more forward-thinking than the rigid conservatism of Roman Catholic traditionalists. We need not only to be Realists, but also Idealists and Romantics, something of our English patrimony.

I don’t count of our “growth”. Proselytism doesn’t produce Christians of depth as the experience of beauty does. This is what we are called to give, yes – beauty, depth, humanity. These are things that the brave new techno-populist world would take away. Yes, our Church upholds these things as icons of God’s love and our Hope.

We’re all working at the same goal.

Warwickensis said...

I quite agree with you, Father: it is not the number of bottoms on seats that is important but rather the growth in "influence" and in spirit.

You will have heard of the phenomenon of "influencers" on platforms such as Instagram. These are people whom Society listens too. The Church should be listened to because she has the words of eternal life, eternal joy and eternal peace. The trouble is that, due to fallacious, specious and, indeed, mendacious reasoning by influential people within the Church, people are apt to mishear these words of Eternity. This needs to be corrected - something the ACC and others seek to do - and it is for the growth of this influence that I work.

Further, as I said in one of my videos, we need to do better with Spiritual Direction and grow in that. Ultimately, spiritual growth can be measured crudely by the sins one no longer commits. The Methodists are so right to commit to a growth of personal holiness, but have not executed in a Catholic manner.

The ACC's influence should be the necessary education, exhortation and explanation to allow souls to choose Christ through a state of relaxed information. Crude Proselytism is an attempt to claim the winning of souls to oneself rather than Christus Victor. It is to be avoided carefully.