Vestments Matter

 

One of the hallmarks of many "nondenominational" denominations within the United States and Great Britain is the eschewing of any manner of distinctive clerical uniform or vesture when leading Christian worship. The rationale behind such abstention is that such clothing sets the minister apart from the people, smacking of clericalism, unduly calling attention to the separateness of the minister, his authority, etc., etc., and that to be one with the people he should (perhaps "must") dress as "one of the people." 

However, when I have visited churches that have such a mindset, sometimes this emphasis on being "one of the people" can go unintentionally awry: In some instances the middle-aged minister will be wearing clothing so contemporary and "hip" that they appear as genuine as my trying to use the word "hip"...or the phrase "with-it," like a father trying to use his teenage son's lingo.  In other instances, the minister's attempt to "dress down," could almost be seen as disrespectful (t-shirts, floral short sleeves, etc). Perhaps the worst variation on this theme is the minister who wants to "not dress like a minister," but wears clothing so expensive and ostentatious that you're left wondering if the church may be paying the man too much, or if he realizes what an affront such clothing could be to the poorer members of the congregation.  

You'll notice that the the pictures I have used to illustrate this entry come from what is now seen as the "evangelical" tradition of the Anglican spectrum (what was, for several hundred years, the basic vesture of Anglican priests)--the classic cassock, surplice, and tippet still worn as the standard by the Free Church of England clergy. In parishes and cathedrals in the United States and the United Kingdom that follow Percy Dearmer's scholarly admonitions, the surplice and tippet are worn for Morning and Evening Prayer, while an alb, stole, and chasuble are worn for the Holy Communion; in some parishes, the surplice and tippet are still retained for Communion, whereas in others a stole is worn over the surplice--in still other places the cope may be worn over the surplice and stole or tippet. 

While there is variety in such practices, it is still quite clear that the priest is, well, the priest. You could swap out Vicar Smith for Father James or Dr. Williams and you could still tell who was the ministerial presence leading the divine worship of the Church, for he would be wearing a uniform clearly recognizable as that of an ordained minister of the Church. The priest doesn't represent himself, he represents the office the Church, and the Church as an extension of Christ's presence--and he holds this as a temporary cell in the Body of Christ: When he leaves, retires, or dies, another will take his place to perform the same sacramental and ministerial functions, and what this new priest does and how they are known is not a place primarily for the expression of individualism--the Eucharist should remain substantially the same (which is why the use of the historic rites is also paramount), the Baptismal rite should remain the same, the office of the priest carrying out these functions should display continuity with what has come before, not just recently, but reaching back in time to previous ages. 

When the priest wears the cassock and the surplice, he identifies himself with the office of the priesthood to carry out his Christ-like sacramental care of God's people, to demonstrate God's presence in the world. The uniform of the priest constrains the priest in a way similar to the liturgy constraining the priest: What the priest preaches from the pulpit must (or should) conform to the doctrine of the Prayer Book, for the language of the Prayer Book verbally exemplifies the continuity of the Church. Similarly, if he dons the cope or the chasuble for the celebration of the Holy Eucharist (as they both descend from the same garment), he is identifying with the continuity of the ancient Church in the celebration of this Sacrament. What he does at the Holy Table is the same as what Lancelot Andrewes did, what Saint Augustine of Canterbury did, what Saint David did. When the people look to the priest, they should see not only themselves as humans (and the faults, frailties, and failings of the individual minister), but the work of Christ in His world through His Church. This is why, whether one is an "evangelical" or "Anglo-Catholic," or an "evangelical Anglo-Catholic," one should be identifiable as a priest of Christ's historic Catholic Church, so that when the faithful see him, they see not only him, but a local expression of the universal Body of Christ.   

Holy Orders Within Anglicanism (OR...If Anglicans don't have priests, nobody does)

Archbishop Temple and Anglican Orders

Archbishop Frederick Temple is not known as an original theologian or scholar. In fact, Frederick Temple is probably best known as the father of a future Archbishop of Canterbury, William Temple. However, one extremely important event occurred in 1896 while Frederick was Primate of all England: The Church of Rome, in the person of Pope Leo XIII in his bull Apostolicae Curae, declared the Holy Orders of Anglicanism--the Orders that had been bestowed upon the likes of Lancelot Andrewes, William Laud, Samuel Seabury, and John Wesley--"utterly null and void." This declaration was based upon the assumption that the revised Ordinal prepared by Archbishop Thomas Cranmer in 1549 was defective.

One of the objections made to the Anglican Ordinal was that the language used was insufficient in the making of bishops. The words of the Anglican Consecration rite were "Take ye the Holy Ghost, and remember that thou stir up the grace of God, which is in thee by imposition of hands" while the Roman Pontifical simply states "receive the Holy Ghost." If Anglican bishops are not to be accounted as properly raised to the episcopate, neither then are the bishops of the Roman Catholic Church by the same standard so applied. Indeed, all of the Popes have just been laymen. 

Pope Leo XIII also objected that the Anglican priests were not instructed by the Ordinal to offer the Mass for the quick and the dead; instead they are told to preach the Word and administer the Sacraments. As the instruction pertaining to the Sacrifice of the Mass was only added to the Roman Ordinal in the 11th Century, again it must be stated that if Anglican priests are not properly priests then neither were any of the presbyters of Western Christendom: There never have been any Christian priests, because the rite for making such priests (according to Roman standards) didn't exist for the first thousand years of Christianity. 

Other spurious arguments were made by various Roman authorities against Anglican Orders, much of the same caliber as those already mentioned. Some of the arguments pertained to the vestments worn or posture taken by the priest during Holy Communion (keeping in mind that vestments had also changed over a millennium of practice). One other objection was that Anglicanism itself lacked a full understanding of the Eucharist as sacrifice. Indeed, the Church of England had rejected, both in her liturgy and in the 39 Articles, the notion that each Mass offered Christ as a new Sacrifice to the Father. Instead, in its liturgical theology it chose to emphasize the teaching of Saint Augustine of Hippo: 'If you wish to understand the body of Christ, listen to the words of the Apostle: "You are the body and the members of Christ." If you are the body and the members of Christ, it is your mystery which is placed on the Lord's Table; it is your mystery you receive. It is to that which you are to answer "Amen," and by that response you make your assent. You hear the words "the body of Christ," you answer "Amen." Be a member of Christ, so that the "Amen" may be true.' This sentiment is echoed in Cranmer's Prayer of Oblation (which follows the reception of the Bread and Cup in the English Rite):

"And here we offer and present unto thee, O Lord, ourselves, our souls and bodies, to be a reasonable, holy, and living sacrifice unto thee; humbly beseeching thee, that we, and all partakers of the Holy Communion, may be filled with thy grace and heavenly benediction, and be made one body with him, that we may dwell in us and we in him."

This is the Eucharistic theology prayed through the Anglican liturgy. When Frederick Temple, as Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Archbishop of York responded to Leo concerning this important issue, they did so via a letter directed to "the whole body of Bishops of the Catholic Church."'We make provision with the greatest reverence for the consecration of the holy eucharist, and commit it only to properly ordained priests and to no other ministers of the church. Further, we truly teach the doctrine of eucharistic sacrifice, and do not believe it to be "a bare commemoration of the sacrifice of the cross," an opinion which seems to be attributed to us (by Roman Catholics). But we think it sufficient in the liturgy which we use in celebrating the holy eucharist--while lifting up our hearts to the Lord, and when now consecrating the gifts already offered that they may become to us the Body and Blood of the Lord Jesus Christ--to signify the sacrifice which is offered at the point of the service in such terms as these. . . .[F]irst we offer the sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving; then next we plead and represent before the Father the sacrifice of the cross, and by it we confidently entreat remission of sins and all other benefits of the Lord's passion for all the whole church; and lastly we offer the sacrifice of ourselves to the creator of all things which we have already signified by the oblations of his creatures. The whole action, in which the people has necessarily to take part, we are accustomed to call the eucharistic sacrifice.'This is the eucharistic theology of St. Augustine, enshrined in The Book of Common Prayer and taught by the orthodox Anglican divines of the Reformation, the Restoration, and beyond.

                                                               

William Temple

Archbishop of Canterbury

 on symbolism and the Holy Eucharist

From Christus Veritas:

In the physical universe symbolism is the principle of existence. Each lower stratum of Reality exists to be the vehicle of the higher. The organism which was Christ’s Body in His earthly ministry derived the significance entitling it to that name from the fact that it was the instrument and vehicle--the effective symbol--of His Spirit. . . .The identity which makes it appropriate to speak of our Lord’s fleshy organism, the Church, and the Eucharistic Bread by one name—the Body of the Lord--is an identity of relation to His Personality on the one hand and to His disciples on the other. The addition of the outpoured Blood makes it plain that it is the symbol of His Personality as offered in sacrifice. As we receive His sacrificial Personality we become able to take our part in the one Sacrifice, which is the self-offering of humanity to God. . . .It is essential to the spiritual value of this sacrament that we do what the Lord did. It is all symbol, but it is expressive, not arbitrary, symbol; that is to say, the spiritual reality signified is actually conveyed by the symbol. The symbol is emphatically not mere symbol; if it were that, we should only receive what our minds could grasp of the meaning symbolised. It is an instrument of the Lord’s purpose to give Himself to us, as well as the symbol of what He gives. What we receive is not limited by our capacity to understand the gift. When with the right intention I receive the Bread and the Wine, I actually receive Christ, whether I have any awareness of this at the moment or not, and always more fully than I am aware. We, by repeating and so identifying ourselves with His sacrificial act, become participants in His one sacrifice. (1924, pp 239-251)

Bishop Ridley on the Holy Eucharist 

(in discourse with representatives of the Church of Rome) 

 "Both you and I agree herein, that in the Sacrament is the very, true, and natural Body and Blood of Christ; even that Which was born of the Virgin Mary; Which ascended into heaven; Which sits on the right hand of God the Father; Which shall come from thence to judge the quick and the dead; only we differ in modo, in the way and manner of being. We confess all one thing to be in the Sacrament, and dissent in the manner of being there. I, being by God’s word fully thereunto persuaded, confess Christ’s natural Body to be in the Sacrament indeed by spirit and grace, because that whosoever receiveth worthily that Bread and Wine, receiveth effectually Christ's Body and drinketh His Blood (that is, he is made effectually partaker of His passion); and you make a grosser kind of being enclosing a natural, a lively, and a moving body, under the shape or form of Bread and Wine. Now this difference considered, to the question thus I answer, that in the Sacrament of the Altar is the natural Body and Blood of Christ vere et realiter, indeed and really, if you take these words ‘indeed and really’ for spiritually by grace and efficacy; for so every worthy receiver receiveth the very true Body of Christ. But if you mean really and indeed, so that thereby you would include a lively and moveable body under the forms of bread and wine, then, in that sense, is not Christ's Body in the Sacrament really and indeed." 

 "Always my protestation reserved, I answer, thus; that in the Sacrament is a certain change, in that the Bread, which was before common bread, is now made a lively presentation of Christ's Body, and not only a figure, but effectuously representeth His Body; that even as the mortal body was nourished by that visible bread, so is the internal soul fed with the heavenly food of Christ's Body, which the eyes of faith see, as the bodily eyes see only bread. Such a Sacramental mutation I grant to be in the Bread and Wine, which truly is no small change, but such a change as no mortal man can make, but only that omnipotency of Christ’s word." – Works, edit. 1843, p. 274 

 "Think not because I disallow that Presence which the first proposition maintaineth (as a presence which I take to be forged, phantastical, and beside the authority of God’s word, perniciously brought into the Church by the Romanists,) that I therefore go about to take away the true Presence of Christ's Body in His Supper rightly and duly ministered, which is grounded upon the word of God, and made more plain by the commentaries of the faithful Fathers. They that think so of me, the Lord knoweth how far they are deceived. And to make the same evident unto you, I will in few words declare what True Presence of Christ's Body in the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper I hold and affirm, with the word of God, and the ancient Fathers. 

"I say and confess with the Evangelist Luke, and with the Apostle Paul , that the Bread over which thanks are given is the Body of Christ in the remembrance of Him and His death, to be set forth perpetually of the faithful until His coming. 

"I say and confess the Bread which we break to be the Communion and partaking of Christ's Body with the ancient and the faithful Fathers. 

 "I say and believe, that there is not only a signification of Christ's Body set forth by the Sacrament, but also that therewith is given to the godly and faithful the grace of Christ's Body, that is, the food of life and immortality, and this I hold with Cyprian. 

"I say also with Saint Augustine, that we eat life and we drink life; with Emissene, that we feel the Lord to be present in grace; with Athanasius, that we receive celestial food which cometh from above; the property of natural communion, with Hilary; the nature of flesh and benediction which giveth life, in Bread and Wine, with Cyril; and with the same Cyril, the virtue of the very Flesh of Christ, life and grace of His Body, the property of the Only-Begotten, that is to say, life, as He Himself in plain words expounded it. 

"I confess also with Basil, that we receive the mystical advent and coming of Christ, grace, and the virtue of His very nature; the Sacrament of his very Flesh, with Ambrose; the Body by grace, with Epiphanius; spiritual flesh, but not that which was crucified, with Jerome; grace flowing into a sacrifice, and the grace of the Spirit, with Chrysosthom; grace and invisible verity, grace and society of the members of Christ's Body, with Augustine. 

"Finally, with Bertram, (who was the last of all these,) I confess that Christ's Body is in the Sacrament in this respect; namely, as he writeth, because there is in it the Spirit of Christ, that is, the power of the Word of God, which not only feedeth the soul, but also cleanseth it. Out of these I suppose it may clearly appear unto all men, how far we are from that opinion, whereof some go about falsely to slander us to the world, saying, we teach that the godly and faithful should receive nothing else at the Lord’s table, but a figure of the Body of Christ." – p. 201, 202

The Christus Rex: The ancient depiction of Christ upon the Cross

One of the most striking and meaningful images to me in Christian art has been the Christus Rex, Christ the King "reigning from the Tree." This is the image that most frequently greets me when I've visited Lutheran parishes.

Collin Morris in The Oxford Illustrated History of Christianity comments as to the development of the traditional (corpus in repose) crucifix we usually think of as being a mark of "Catholicism." Morris observes:

"The crucifix was becoming a prominent feature of church decoration, replacing the Christ in majesty which dominated early buildings, and it was a crucifix in a new style. The Lord was no longer shown upright and majestic, clothed in purple and reigning from the tree: now, a dying man was offered for the loyalty and compassion of the beholders. . . "

I commented once to a priest who had a Christus Rex upon the altar how much I liked that particular cross. To my surprise he told me how much he disliked it: To him it was an image of the living Christ re-crucified, brought back to the cross following the resurrection and sacrificed again. This comment resulted in my spending some time researching the theology and history of the Christus Rex. My findings were those that Morris expresses above: The Christus Rex is the more ancient emphasis, and the dead Christ is a more recent development. Indeed, is the image of the dead Christ the most proper image to have on the altar when celebrating the Holy Thanksgiving of not only Christ's sacrifice, but of His resurrection, glorious ascension, and His coming again? Here are some comments on the image and its place in Western iconography from various sources:

Percy Dearmer, Anglican liturgical scholar, notes in his 1899 edition of The Parson's Handbook (p 88):

"A CROSS was sometimes set on the Holy Table before the Reformation; but it was by no means the rule, though nowadays many seem to consider it a necessity. In cases where a painting forms the altarpiece it is often better dispensed with (even where there is room for a small cross below the picture), especially in the case of minor altars; and the appropriateness of using a cross where the Crucifixion forms part of the altarpiece is more than questionable. Under no circumstances should a cross be placed on the altar when it would stand in front of a picture or of the figures of a sculptured reredos, The idea that an altar is incomplete (or ‘Protestant’) without a cross needs to be strenuously combated. Indeed, although altar crosses and crucifixes are certainly included under the rubric, there is much to be said both from the ceremonial and from the theological point of view against their use on the altar. The proper place for a representation of the crucified Redeemer is the Roodscreen. In any case the primitive crucifix, in which our Lord is represented in an attitude of benediction and majesty, is more seemly than the twisted and distorted figure one often sees."

Similarly, Canon Vernon Staley, the Anglo-Catholic scholar, wrote in his 1904 Ceremonial of the English Church (p 113-115):

"It is not well to regard the Eucharist as commemorative solely of the death and passion of our Lord, and to forget that it is also the memorial of His mightly resurrection and glorious ascension. In thus emphasizing His humiliation at the expense of His exhaltation some have been led to associate the crucifix with the altar rather than the cross of glory. In connection with this, it may be pointed out that our Lord in glory is a much more suitable subject. . .over the altar, than our Lord crucified."

The question remains, why were Christus Rex images (or variations of this image) prevalent in the ancient Church? Bishop of Oxford Richard Harries addresses this question in his book The Passion in Art. He comments first on the first depiction of the crucifixion (about 400 A.D.):

". . .This is no defeated Christ: his eyes are open and head upright, and his arms stretch firmly outwards. He looks boldly to the front, not so much constrained by the cross, as superimposed upon it. The contrast is deliberately made with Judas hanging on the tree, the thirty pieces of silver spilled onto the ground at his feet. . .Judas is dead and defeated, but Christ is alive with the life of triumphant love. . . .Over. . .anger and sadness and death the love of God wins through. Christ reigns from the tree" (p 13).

"In the earliest depictions of the Passion that have survived, Christ is shown alive on the Cross. This was true both in the West and in the East. . . .The major theological issue that concerned the Church from the fourth to the eighth centuries. . .was the person of Christ. The Church came to assert that he is truly God and truly human, yet remains one undivided person. If this is the case then how should Christ be depicted on the Cross? If he was simply shown dead, or in the tomb, people might wonder what happened to his divinity. So it would seem that from the fourth to the end of the seventh centuries artists chose to avoid the controversial questions by not showing him dead on the Cross at all. Christ is shown, as we have seen, with arms outstretched, head upright and eyes open, very much alive. This had the doctrinal advantage of making it clear that Jesus had indeed been crucified as a human being, for there he was on the Cross. But his open eyes could be interpreted as the logos, the eternal word of God. . .being very much alive" (p 29).