Patternism? (off-base and yet on-track)

N.T. “Tom” Wright, as I suggested in the last post, is not always right.  He seems to be a decent fellow, often has much to offer, and is a gifted communicator — or at least his style communicates well to me.  He is not always right, but on the other hand, he often has something insightful to say.  Since I’m only almost-through with Vol. 1 of his two-volume Acts commentary, I imagine I’ll have more Wright stuff to write about in the future.

Anyway, I would like to comment briefly on this sentence, which was contained in the passage I shared yesterday:

[S]ince there is in fact no single, identical pattern of Christian initiation running right across our earliest documents, the church has, in my view wisely, developed patterns which broadly correspond to what seems to have been done by the first apostles themselves, as much by decisions taken as they went along as by carefully thought-out regulation.

I would first of all agree with the implication that patternism in the sense of blueprints and legal codes do not run rampant through the pages of the New Covenant documents.  There is, though, in point of fact, quite a distinct, common thread related to “Christian initiation,” and it is seen

  • unmistakably, throughout the historical-narrative pages of Acts (chapters 2, 8, 9, 10, 16, & 19) … but, it might be pointed out, not at the ends of chapters 3 and 13)
  • notably, in theological, explanatory contexts Galatians, Romans, Colossians, and 1 Peter
  • practically, in today’s churches that are more text-based than history-based

Mr.¹ Wright, your denomination does not appear to be on a valid track with its practice of “confirmation,” but I greatly appreciate that you find connections between authentic Christian practice today and what the apostles did and taught in the first century!

==================

¹ I didn’t take time to look up how Anglican bishops are properly addressed in-house, because not only do I not care, but I suspect that Tom Wright has long ago moved beyond caring about titles and formalities!

World-renowned theologians can be off-base (1)

I learned to respect the name N.T. Wright when he was on the “good side” (contra Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan, widely considered to be bona fide heretics) of the “Jesus at 2000″ debate.  I have since picked up two of Wright’s commentaries and have glanced a few times at his website.  He’s a good communicator and is renowned as an Anglican bishop, theologian, writer, and speaker.

However, Wright is not always right.  Case in point from Part One of his commentary on Acts:

As a bishop, one of the things I do quite a lot is to go round laying hands on people and praying for God’s holy spirit to come upon them.  It is often a very moving and exciting time, not least at the Easter Vigil when we come in darkness into the great cathedral, led by the candle symbolizing the risen Jesus, and then, with lights coming on, playing on the organ and other instruments, and shouts of “Alleluia!,” we celebrate the resurrection.  We renew the vows made at our baptism; and then, sometimes pausing to baptize people as well, we welcome into our fellowship through confirmation (the laying on of the bishop’s hands, with prayer) those who had been baptized earlier, probably as infants, and who now want to make real for themselves the promises which had been made on their behalf some while before.

When people ask me, as they sometimes do, what it’s all about, the present passage (Acts 8:4-25 -bc) is one of the ones we usually go back to.  I do not imagine for a moment that our modern practice, in the church to which I happen to belong, is an exact reproduction of what Luke says took place in Samaria on that occasion.  I am not an apostle come from Jerusalem, and the people I confirm are not Samaritans, needing for the first time to know the presence and power of the spirit.  But since there is in fact no single, identical pattern of Christian initiation running right across our earliest documents, the church has, in my view wisely, developed patterns which broadly correspond to what seems to have been done by the first apostles themselves, as much by decisions taken as they went along as by carefully thought-out regulation.  I should say, by the way, that sometimes when I meet people I have confirmed a year or so before they have remarkable stories to tell of what God has been doing in their lives since then.  It is by no means, as sceptics sometimes assume, an empty and irrelevant old bit of ritual.  (N.T. Wright, Acts for Everyone, Part One, Chapters 1-2, pp. 125-127)

Now, before I protest several elements of the good bishop’s words above, I want to say that I am not throwing away or defacing his books.  They’re borrowed from the library.  I am not returning them in disgust.  I can still learn from this man, this Anglican official who has a great deal of insight and communicative gift.  But he can be off-base, and here, off-base he is.

I’ll also say that there are a couple of very important, apt insights contained in the middle of Wright’s messy, mixed bag.  The very first problem is his conclusion to this topic of discourse:  we are apparently supposed to believe that because he says people have great stories to tell, his “confirmation” practice is valid.

I enjoy poking holes, or at least attempting to poke them, in other people’s logic.  In so doing, I am probably not doing my best “Golden Rule” work, but as a perpetually aspiring neo-Protestant, I continue to believe this is important work.  So, here I go.  I count five subjective (or less-than-fact-based) elements in the quoted passage above:

  1. Wright’s memory (in his humanness, he may be conflating and amalgamating events)
  2. Wright’s perception of the people’s genuineness (his judgment is not flawless)
  3. The people’s actual genuineness (they may be as interested in impressing the great bishop as in recounting actual happenings)
  4. The people’s memory (they are human, too, and could have forgotten sequences and times)
  5. The people’s perception of what God is “doing in their lives” (this phrase is always dubious)

Conclusion:  never trust a bishop.  Just kidding.  Actually, never trust any human.  (Not kidding.)  We are all flawed.  (Yes, even the Pope.  If any Catholics are reading, you need to know this.  Don’t get all hot-and-bothered and take leave of your senses.  Down deep, you know that the assertion of papal infallibility is ridonculous, and you need to toss it overboard from the ship of your life and beliefs.)

Despite the goodness of heart and thoroughness of thought that N.T. “Tom” Wright manifests so regularly, he is not always right.  The implicit suggestion that the laying on of a denominational bishop’s hands means something is questionable.  And the pragmatically, morally absurd notion of “baptizing” an infant (of course, they are just sprinkled or poured upon, not really baptized, for that would be child abuse) is eclipsed in the spiritual plane by the inability to see that there was actually a pattern of initiation–shown pretty clearly in the record we call Acts of the Apostles.

Denominational loyalties and mass marketing are enemies of truth.

Ekklesia values 6 (leadership and hierarchy)

Continuing in the “Church Values” stream today, and extrapolating a bit from the nondenominational, nonsectarian ideals  now.  My ideal church will employ

==> Non-hierarchical leadership

and is

  • mutually pastoral in terms of ministering to one another

and uses no

  • no extrabiblical (or reappropriated biblical) religious titles.

In the NC scriptures, I see contraindications of positional authority in the church.  Put negatively, I see no hint that there were, or were to be, hierarchical leaders.  Positional leadership is ubiquitous in churches these days–seen most starkly in such figures as the pope, but lived out in virtually every church I’ve ever been with, known of, or read about.

If we must have the “pastor” as a role, understood as most Christians understand that job today, let us at least not have “senior pastor.”  “Lead pastor” is more functional than positional, and I would rather see that modifier than “senior.”  In the eyes of some, as I’ve come to understand it, Timothy and Titus may have filled precursors of the modern-day pastor role.  But this is an assumption, an inference; it’s not particularly explicit.

In the CofC grouping, we tend to believe and write one way, and live out our polity another way.  If we really believe elders are pastors are shepherds are bishops, well, let’s do church that way.  Let us not have our preachers/ministers/evangelists in charge of everything.  Let us not conceive intellectually of an upside-down pyramid with elders at the top.  And by all means let us not live as though it’s a regular pyramid with the minister at the top, the elders in the middle, the deacons at the bottom, and everyone else referred to as “you” instead of “we.”  And, by the way, let us avoid the perception that eldering/pastoring happens primarily in the humanly invented institution called the “elders’ meeting.”

Although I’ve been taught it all my life, I’m not sure the NC scriptures really equate the bishop (episkopos) with the elder (presbuteros) with the pastor (poimein).  These may be describing similar, overlapping, but not identical functional roles.  Perhaps the ideal is more fluid than many of us have come to understand:  could it be that Timothy was primarily a functioning evangelist, and there were no deacons or elders or head “pastor” in Ephesus, while Titus was more of a “lead pastor” in Crete?  And further, could it be that

  • the churches in Galatia had neither a head pastor nor elders
  • the groups in Corinth and Colosse and Laodicea had several poimenoi each, like most CofC groups, and
  • the church in Rome had none of the above, because they had an apostle?

It deserves mention that the early church in Jerusalem appears to have been led by few apostles/elders, and James the brother of Jesus seems to have had executive influence (see Acts 15).  The Acts 6 precedent leads us to select servants to fulfill needed tasks–giving rise to modern-day “deacons” (same word as “minister,” by the way).  Let it not go unnoticed that deacons have jobs to do.  There is no deacon, biblically speaking, who simply has the title but no designated function in the local church’s work.

Nashville’s Belmont Church (which has Restoration Movement roots but left any real association behind years ago), at least at one point, separated its elders by function.  Some were executive, and some were pastoral (caring for sheep).  Some were paid, and some were not.  This devised arrangement made some sense to me, given that no particular hierarchy is specified in the scriptures, and given the size of that particular church.  But when all’s said and done, it’s more important that people not attempt to assert or exert authority based on position or salary.  Given that we are not in the apostolic age, spiritual authority should arise naturally, along the lines of relational, respected influence.  It should be invited by people, not inflicted on them.  “Having authority,” by the way, is different from “acting authoritatively” or “being authoritarian.”

In sum:  my church won’t obviously deal in positional leadership.  Not that there won’t be leaders.  There must be leadership, and leaders will emerge naturally!  But it will not be because of some mail-order license, or a degree-granting institution’s blessing, or a denomination’s “call” (whatever that is).

Leaders serve, their leadership is respected as an outgrowth of their service, and ideally, they begin to have spiritual influence because of recognized insight and genuine relationship.  Leaders are marked by service to humankind, beginning with the household of faith, in the name of God.