Welcome to IM’s popular new feature, “The Liturgical Gangstas,” a panel discussion among different liturgical traditions represented in the Internet Monk audience.
Who are the Gangstas?
Father Ernesto Obregon is an Eastern Orthodox priest.
Rev. Peter Vance Matthews is an Anglican priest and founding pastor of an AMIA congregation.
Dr. Wyman Richardson is a pastor of a First Baptist Church (SBC) and director of Walking Together Ministries, a resource on church discipline.
Alan Creech is a Roman Catholic with background in the Emerging church and spiritual direction. (Alan’s not a priest. If he is, his wife and kids need to know.)
Rev. Matthew Johnson is a United Methodist pastor.
Rev. William Cwirla is a Lutheran pastor (LCMS) and one of the hosts of The God Whisperers, which is a podcast nearly as good as Internet Monk Radio.
Here’s this week’s question: What is the most misunderstood positive thing about your tradition, and the most ignored weakness of your tradition? Of the five traditions represented, from whom do you believe your tradition could learn the most?
Father Ernesto/Orthodox: The Internet Monk’s question was quite a thought provoker for me. In fact, I ended up throwing the questions out to a few friends, who included a layman who is a professor at an university, a nun, and a couple of priests. That was a first for me. What surprised me was the unanimity of thought expressed in the three responses I received. I was expecting more variety and expecting that I would then distill their thought down into an answer. But, instead, I received unanimity. So, here is our thought.
All agreed that the Baptists are the tradition from whom we could learn the most, but in only one area. The area? The dynamic preaching that is often embodied in the best of the Baptist tradition. It not only encompasses a serious desire to communicate God’s Word to the hearer, but also a serious desire to have people respond to God in a life-changing way. That is, the Baptists, when at their best, often offer a winsome balance between teaching and a dynamic call to change. No serious Baptist preacher can stand in the pulpit without ending a sermon by asking the hearer to reflect on what this means for their life, and to reflect on what they must change in order to bring their life into accord with the teaching that they have just received. Not all Baptists live up to this high standard, but, when they do, God’s Word truly comes to earth in the spoken word. It is at those times when it almost seems as though preaching has become the eighth sacrament.
You might think, then, that I would say that the most ignored weakness (by us) is our lacks in the area of preaching. But, actually, all our seminaries are working to improve the levels of preaching within our tradition. We are not ignoring it; we are cognizant of it. No, I would say that our most ignored weakness is the way in which Western thinking has, inevitably, worked itself in on our people. No, I do not mean outward things like watching TV, or using iPods, etc. Those are merely external. No, I mean the creeping agnosticism which is so prevalent in modern First-World Western cultures. It is that thinking which causes your mind to “switch gears” once you “leave church” and to adopt a practical agnosticism. What do I mean? Watch a professional baseball game some time. Whenever a Latino player comes up, he crosses himself before taking the plate. There is a consciousness that God is present in all aspects of life, even sports. But, in the USA, we denigrate that by asking whether it is appropriate to pray during sports. After all, why would God answer a prayer in favor of one team and not another? But, in asking those questions we feed an agnosticism that, little by little, removes God from this bit or that bob of our life, until all that is left is Sunday morning, maybe Wednesdays, and maybe some little volunteer work here or there. We Orthodox have also been infected by that disease. We make fun of pious practices as though they were mere superstitions rather than the outworking of a consciousness that God is present everywhere and in every aspect of our lives. Not every “tradition” can or should be defended, for instance, I really do not believe that Jesus has imprinted his face on many tacos. But, when we take down our “home altars,” when we lose the prayers before meals, when we forget the night prayer before sleeping, and, yes, when we fail to cross ourselves at important times in our lives, we show the result of the creeping agnosticism which has so thoroughly infected the USA.
Finally, the most misunderstood positive thing about the Orthodox is our worship. I am now not talking about misunderstood just by us, but misunderstood, even more, by those who are not Orthodox. A creeping agnosticism leads to creeping doubt that God is present. Our worship is mystical. It is the place where we encounter God, not simply in symbol, or in liturgy, or in litanies, etc., but rather, it is the place where we truly encounter God, where we are present with Him in the heavenly worship. But, a creeping agnosticism leads to a lack of faith that there is such an encounter occurring. A creeping agnosticism leads to a concentration on the details rather than a simple acceptance of the whole of it. This does not mean that we ignore the details. We have scholars aplenty who can intimately describe every detail of our Divine Liturgy, and where they wish it would be somewhat different. We have bishops who meet to discuss appropriate wording, appropriate inculturation, etc. But, when we step into the Divine Liturgy, we put the scholarly world aside and simply enter in. The details no longer matter. They will be worked out in the proper place and at the proper time. Now is not that time. Now is the time to enter in and simply be with the Father, who is from everlasting, His Only-Begotten Son, together with his all-holy and good and life-giving Spirit, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen.
Matthew Johnson/United Methodist: I think for United Methodists and Wesleyans in general the most misunderstood positive thing has to be the doctrine of Christian perfection. I used to be like most everyone else in that I thought the whole thing was about sinless perfection which seemed to be Biblically untenable. But then I heard people teach it and I saw what belief in Christian perfection looked like in the lives of those who believed in its place within the via salutis.
I’ll readily admit my own misunderstandings and hope that I do not misrepresent it in my answer but let me start with an assignment from a class on the Gospel according to Matthew I took my first semester of seminary. We had to interpret the tail end of the 5th chapter with particular focus given to Jesus’ words “You, therefore, must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.†I’m still not entirely convinced by arguments based upon the multivalent meanings of words, but in completing this assignment I was struck by the number of times “perfect†is translated in the New Testament as “matureâ€. It’s easier for me to live with this kind of language because what I see in those who have lived what we call Christian perfection are mature Christians in the fullest sense – they love without question and they forgive like it is going out of style. When I think of the fullness, the completeness of Christian perfection, it always plays out as one who loves God and loves neighbor not only more than self but even at the expense of self – Philippians 2 in action. I read last week in my New Living Translation Study Bible, “Real love is always sacrificial.†I think that about covers it for me.
I’d be surprised if any of our weaknesses are ignored – those are the ones that always make the news! We allegedly believe in holiness, both personal and social. In fact, we believe you can’t have one without the other. In my experience, this doesn’t happen very often in our missions outside the church. By this I mean that we’re good at building houses, digging wells, feeding the hungry, and education but we’re too timid or embarrassed, or unwilling to present the simple Gospel of Jesus Christ to go along with our labor on behalf of others. It’s so bad that many years ago a group of people started a mission called The Mission Society so that United Methodists would have an evangelistic presence in world missions to go along with the social presence. I still don’t see why there has to be a split between the two (although, as a disclaimer, I know the Mission Society does both together pretty well and I’m pretty certain there are some General Board missionaries who are evangelistic).
I believe our denomination could learn the most from the tradition that has learned that it’s possible to be faithful to our call and mission without a bureaucracy. Which one is that?
If that’s not possible, I’m going to say that we need a fuller sacramental life. Out of the four groups that I consider to be more sacramental than Methodists, I’m probably going to go back to the Lutherans mostly because we sometimes have a hard time remembering exactly what the Gospel is which is what Wesley heard and preached from his time with a group of Lutherans, even if they were pietists 
Peter Vance Matthews/Anglican: The most misunderstood positive thing about Anglicanism is what I call
essentialism. There is an old saying attributed to different people that says: In the essentials unity; the non-essentials liberty; in all things charity. Of the different traditions I have been part of Anglicanism has best exhibited this. Anglicanism sees itself as nothing more than an expression of ancient historic orthodoxy manifested in an English context. This means we do not have one particular theologian or theology that guides us. We have formularies found in our liturgies, ordinals and the Articles of Religion, but nothing like Calvin’s Institutes or Luther’s Catechism. As long as one adheres to creedal orthodoxy and one is part of an Anglican worshiping community, one is faithful to Anglicanism. I often express this when we host introduction to Anglicanism classes at Saint Patrick’s Church by telling folks that if you are wondering if Anglicans are Arminian or Calvinist or Thomist or Augustinian or etc., the answer is yes. In fact, there are folks from those different persuasions in the pews at our parish. And all are Anglican.
The reason I love this is that I love the security of being grounded in historic orthodoxy with the freedom to explore and benefit from different theologies. I like being able to free range in Schmemann, Calvin, Wesley and Augustine. I can draw from all these and use them in my life or ministry.
Of course, one of our great weaknesses is this very same reality. As you were reading you probably found yourself asking, “Yes, but what are the essentials and who gets to decide what they are?” Good question. This is especially germane now that the Anglican Communion is in turmoil over the
question of human sexuality. The battle is over whether this issue is essential or secondary. If it is essential than it is dividing. If it is secondary than everyone ought to be able to get along and agree to disagree. As you might guess the more conservative side of the debate thinks the issue is essential and cannot be compromised while the more liberal side of the debate sees it as a secondary issue that Anglicans can disagree about.
Anglicans need some sort of magisterium, like our Roman sisters and brothers have. It would look different, and would be more purely conciliar than the Roman system, but having a conciliar doctrinal body would help us stay more clear about what is essential and what is secondary.
Alan Creech/Roman Catholic: OK, this could get interesting. The most misunderstood, POSITIVE thing about my tradition, the Roman Catholic tradition – hmmm. This, of course, is only from my perspective and can only come from my own experience. I really think the most misunderstood, positive thing in Catholicism is the whole notion of the Communion of Saints, including our continued interaction with one another as One whole Body of Christ. In general terminology, I mean the whole “praying to the Saints” thing. I find myself having a good many conversations about that concept with Christians of other traditions and what I hear when this happens is always very interesting and quite a bit off what we hold and practice as Catholics.
Well, let me make sure and be totally fair here – “we” may “practice” a bunch of things as Catholics which also might cause some confusion among those peering through the window from the outside. I’m saying “we” may have a bit of misunderstanding going on ourselves in this category as well, which puts a double-whammy kind of spin on this. It’s positive and misunderstood both from within and from without.
We don’t (or shouldn’t at all, in any way) “worship” Saints – who are human beings like us, gone on into the fullness of the Kingdom of God in heaven. Also, these Saints can’t really “do” anything directly for us. Often you see or hear things that might sound as if Catholics are directly asking St. Whozitz to “give them this” or “do this” for them. MMMmmm not so much. What we are encouraged to do and what we have been doing for a long, long time, is understanding that our brothers and sisters in Christ who are now enveloped in the full Life of God are in a “state” now where they are able to see us, know as they are known, where they have, as it could be said, “the big clue.” So, still being a part of the Communion of Saints who make up the Body of Christ, they can offer intercessions for us just as they did on earth, but in a greater and fuller way. They can still pray for us, and pray for us in a deeper and more effective way because of “where” and “what” they are now (by “what” I mean their fully transformed state as fully Human Beings). Fully comprehending all that is a bit out of the picture for us, so a lot of scare quotes must enter anything written.
There is a continuity in this concept of Communion which is very positive indeed. We are not so separated from those who are now “gone” to us. We are still one with them – still an active part of the same Body, the Church. And not only in that they can pray for us, but that we can also still pray for them. Yes, the purgatory thing. Itself, purgatory is a very misunderstood idea, again, both in and out of the Catholic Church I believe. I don’t want to get sidetracked by that, but it’s connected in that we, as much as we can know about how those things work in the realm of eternity, can pray for the completion of the transformation of those we love after they have died to us and gone “over there.” Could it be that our prayers work in some mysterious way outside of time and they are instantaneously transformed into the fullness of His Image? Maybe so. Again, very hard to say. One way or another, the continued interaction is there, our praying for them, them praying for us.
The most ignored weakness of my tradition, I would say, is probably the deep institutionalization of every aspect of Catholic life. It seems to me just rampant and almost incurable. I’m being very honest in saying how discouraging it can be. It seems it kind of goes without being questioned at all, as if to have things so bound in all manner of red tape is just normal, everyday stuff in the Church. Everything takes a long time. New things? – oh man – pray for MUCH patience in order to get that happening. In the midst of the unbelievable beauty and spiritual depth in the Catholic tradition, is so much built up “plaque” – the residue of years and years of doing things a certain way that it seems very difficult that anyone would see any other way. It would seem a return to some of the monastic simplicity that is still alive within our own tradition is in order on the parish level – seminary level – diocesan level, etc.
The other end of of the question makes me think of the Orthodox tradition. I believe the Western Catholic tradition could learn a great deal from our Orthodox siblings. A couple of things that come to mind are — Using less legally restrictive and analytical language when talking about salvation instead of a more fluid, relational understanding. You’ll notice my use of the word “transformation” above. I believe the ideas are basically the same in our two traditions, but the way we think about things can be quite different. I think it would be extremely helpful for Catholics to move toward a less legal understanding of the process of salvation.
I also think about the collegiality of how the Orthodox hierarchy works. It’s a bit more “flat” in how they work things out. We have developed a bit more of a rigid system in Catholicism, which can cause it’s share of problems. For us to be open to and learn/adopt (re-adopt?) a more collegial way of working things out might be a very good thing.
Again, these are my own observations and thoughts on the question. As Michael might say, 5 or 6 other Catholics might give you 5 or 6 different answers – but they’re not… Liturgical Gangstas! Peace to all in this house.
Wyman Richardson/Southern Baptist: Wow, this is a great question. Southern Baptists are frequent targets of derision, much of which comes as a result of our own foolishness. When I hear criticisms and even caricatures of Southern Baptists, I oftentimes find myself saying, “Yeah, I can’t really deny the truthfulness of what you’re saying, and yet…†It’s the “And yet…†that keeps me a Southern Baptist.
I actually believe that SB’s have a number of positive traits that could be mentioned. Our historic contribution to the idea of religious liberty is a major one. As for “the most misunderstood positive thing about your tradition,†I think I would have to say our evangelistic impulse. In many ways, this is the aspect of Southern Baptist life that some find most off-putting. Or, rather, it’s the oftentimes boorish, arrogant, or non-strategic approach to evangelism that people see in Southern Baptists that they find off-putting. And yet, beneath all of the myriad examples of how not to do evangelism that one can find among Southern Baptists, I am increasingly impressed by the Baptist commitment to take the gospel to the world.
At the very least, this missionary prerogative is a safeguard against an insular form of Christianity. I have a friend who is an Orthodox Presbyterian. He is no fan of Southern Baptists, to put it mildly, and yet he recently pointed out to me that the lack of such a missionary heart is a major weakness of his own tradition. I have spent the major part of my life among Southern Baptists. I am, as it were, “in the camp.†I often grieve at our foolishness and at my own foolishness. But, through it all, I see time and time again that the average Southern Baptist (1) believes Jesus is the world’s only hope and (2) believes that it is the job of His people to take Him to the world.
As for “the most ignored weakness,†I’m not sure how “ignored†this is, but the elevation of the individual and the erosion of community is a huge problem. I personally think that the tradition of E.Y. Mullins is somewhat responsible for this, and, probably more so, the syncretism of Southern Baptists churches with American hyper-individualism. In other words, the autonomous individual has been elevated above the church and, as such, we have, I believe, a very weak ecclesiology. To be sure, this weakness hurts our strength: our lack of ecclesiology actually undermines our missions efforts. But there are signs of hope that many Southern Baptists are thinking and praying deeply about the renewal of the church.
As for which tradition we could learn the most from, Rev. Matthews will perhaps be amused to find out that I think Southern Baptists could learn a lot from Anglicans. I could say more, but I’ll stop for now.
William Cwirla/Lutheran: I appreciate this opportunity for a bit of critical self-reflection in the company of my fellow gangstas.
One of the more misunderstood of the positive aspects of my Lutheran tradition is pastoral care. In the Lutheran tradition, the pastor as Seelsorger, a physician of the soul, is a venerable image. Think of the old-fashioned family physician with his little black bag making house calls on his people. For a good descriptive narrative of what that looks like, I commend the book The Hammer of God by Bo Giertz, who was a Lutheran bishop in Sweden. This little book nicely captures the essence of the pastor as Seelsorger, who brings the Word of Law and Gospel to bear in the lives of his people through preaching and the sacraments.
Unfortunately, this aspect of the pastoral ministry seems to be declining in importance in our growth-driven mega-church era. It is often spoken of derisively as “maintenance ministry†by church bureaucrats and ecclesiastical entrepreneurs. Pastors are under ever increasing pressure to be the visionaries and CEOs of growing enterprises, leaving the humble and often messy work of pastoral care to volunteers and “pastoral staff.†I believe that a commitment to Seelsorge will naturally limit the size of a congregation. I recall Eugene Peterson’s statement that he never wanted to pastor a church with more members than whose names he could remember.
Another positive aspect of my Lutheran tradition is the proper distinction of the Law and the Gospel. This is often misunderstood as a categorical division in which Scripture verses can be dropped into a Law bucket or a Gospel bucket. Rather, it is a dynamic polarity within the Word of God that both kills and makes alive. Practically speaking, it distinguishes Christ’s work from our works and maintains the Christ-centeredness of our teaching and preaching. Though other Christians often make this distinction better than Lutherans (we certainly have no monopoly on this biblical distinction), we have this distinction as a fundamental component of our theological tradition.
This distinction of the Law and the Gospel also profoundly influences Lutheran sacramentology. We view Baptism, Absolution, and the Lord’s Supper as primarily God’s work acting on us, applying the gifts of salvation to the individual objectively and forensically to create and sustain saving faith.
In my opinion, the most neglected weakness of our tradition is personal evangelism. We are simply not very good at it. Historically, Lutherans have been most comfortable with the regional or territorial church model in which people associated with the local church and dealt with it through its official channels. Growth was largely by reproduction as children were baptized and nurtured in the faith. Reaching out to the unbeliever was not a top priority, our Lord’s mandate to “disciple the nations†notwithstanding. The language of apologetics and evangelism are not native to our traditional vocabulary; our Lutheran confessions have little to say on the subject.
From our vantage point as evangelical catholic Christians in the western tradition. we Lutherans can learn from all the traditions around us. From the Orthodox we can learn the virtue of liturgical stability and a reverence for the early church. From the Evangelicals we can learn about how to speak comfortably of the faith in personal terms. One thing I’ve always admired of Evangelicals is their ability to speak of their faith in Christ to friend, family, and stranger, as well as their confidence in doing so. I’m sorry to admit that two Lutherans can work side by side for ten years and not know that they are Christians let alone Lutheran. From our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters, we can learn our common heritage in the greater western tradition and be reminded that we share a greater historic context and are not simply another Protestant denomination.
If I may go slightly beyond the scope of the question, I think that my Lutheran tradition can serve as a continual witness to all Christians that the Gospel of Jesus Christ is the hermeneutical center of the Holy Scriptures and the article of justification by grace through faith in Christ is the doctrinal center of Christian theology.
Michael,
This is a wonderful posting. This sort of reflecting is needed so much in all of our churches.
I will post a summary and link back here from Eclectic Christian.
I look forward to all the discussion that follows here.
Mike Bell
Excellent questions and thought-provoking responses! How incredible to see people praising traditions that are different from their own!
I think I try to answer your questions on my blog as well.
-Alan
This is a great idea, IM. Looking forward to future installments. Don’t know if this has already taken place, but I’d love to see an AME gangsta mixed in there (and why not a UPC too?).
Just for the record, I get constant volunteers to be a gangsta, and I appreciate them, I really do. I intended to have 2 + me. I decided on 3, and I finally settled on six. I won’t be adding any more.
I may create a similar group from more mainstream evangelical/Trinitarian Pentecostal folk, but that’s not an immediate plan.
Presbyterians are allowed to be annoyed by their lack of representation, but it seems to me that the entire blogosphere is Calvinistic these days, and one of the things I am trying to do is get some non-reformed voices heard.
Glad everyone likes it.
It is exceedingly rare to find this kind of humble, honest discussion anywhere in God’s church. Gangstas, THANK YOU for this post!
I also appreciate this format and have learned much from all.
To Pastor Cwirla: I appreciate your desire to learn from other traditions, because I often see Lutheranism as rather inwardly focused. By this, I mean that Lutherans don’t draw much on non-Lutheran sources (e.g. a prominent Lutheran blogger who didn’t know who John Piper was), and even worse, that Lutheran sources are not more widely available outside of Lutheran circles (e.g. Treasury of Daily Prayer, The Hammer of God, …).
I say this as one who was raised in the ELCA (actually the ALC), who has been in Evangelical churches for 30 years, and is rediscovering the richness and Christ-centeredness of Lutheran theology.
Thanks again.
Father Ernesto’s point about “creeping agnosticism” should strike fear in all our hearts. This is what is making churches social, evermore secular, societies of man. I would hope the Mysteries are appreciated by all traditions.
Bro Wyman , it is too bad the bible does not speak to less of me and more of Christ? …Oh wait..
Why isn’t that 18 hours required in Seminary? Serious question.
It may seem like an echo to other comments because…. well, it is. I also appreciate and learn from these Gangsta posts, and look forward to more of them. I really appreciate the exposure to traditions other then my own. My thanks to all the Gangstas for their contributions.. God bless…
“It seems to me that the entire blogosphere is Calvinistic these days…” Amen brother. Not that I don’t appreciate our Calvinist brothers from time to time, but if you read nothing else, you start to forget they’re not the only Christian worldview… nor do they represent the majority of Christian worldviews.
I would also say Fr. Ernesto’s weakness of practical agnosticism is every church’s weakness.
I would also like to hear Alan discuss purgatory a bit more. Most of the Catholics I know aren’t up on it, and even the priests I know bypass it. (Probably for fear of offending the Protestants in the room.)
Hey K.W. – I won’t take up the room here, but that purgatory thing is definitely wound up in the Catholic “most misunderstood” deal. I wrote a hefty blog post about it in July of 2007 that you might want to take a look at called purgatory > getting the job finished – have fun!
Purgatory- even the softest versions of it- is about 75% of why I could never be a Catholic. I could take a whole team of infallible popes and several flying houses before I can say yes to that one.
Yeah, I just don’t get that one at all, Michael. Purgatory is a tame concept (see my explanation on the link) compared to Papal infallibility. I’m not trying to get you to be Catholic but I’d bet at least a little money on being able to help narrow at least 50% off that 75.
Anyway, stickin’ to my answer – as I see it, it’s at least a part of the misunderstood positive. Peace ya’ll.
I appreciate that, Alan. Of course, it eventually gets into the justification/sanctification issue, and if that were all there were to it, then I could probably get an angle. (I mean, if I were talking to C.S. Lewis or to you, I have an angle.) But when it gets into the use of the doctrine in church history and especially into indulgences and the role of the church in relation to those in purgatory, I’m a goner. It’s like explaining to me that I should like hockey. Uh-huh.
Great post, but as an Agnostic, it was kind of weird hearing about “creeping agnosticism” like it was some sort of disease or weird vine. (It was also weird, but not uncommon, unfortunately, of having a male-only discussion as a feminist, but that’s a different post).
I was really liked the Lutheran post, because that was my religion growing up (until my mother went nuts and we went to increasingly insane church) and it really was my experience to have the “local pastor”. If there is any thing I really miss about religion, it’s when the pastor was good, s/he was always a real comfort to be able to go to when you were wrestling with something.
Of course, I’d say that the worst thing about the Lutheran church is the atonal singing, but that’s just me (seriously people, “Hallelujah” means that you’re supposed to be excited, and there are more than 3 notes in any song).
Willoh,
“Why isn’t that 18 hours required in Seminary? Serious question.”
Sorry Will, I didn’t understand the question. What 18 hours are you referring to?
I really liked Mr. Mathews and Mr. Richardsons. For some reason, and I haven’t yet identified it, but I feel a strange kinship with Anglicanism. Especially as it is manifest in conservative anglicanism. And I’m baptist.
I’ve said before and will repeat again, if I could just convince the Anglican communion to drop that whole “infant baptism” thing I’d be there next Sunday.
Alas, I guess that won’t happen so I’m stuck sneaking off to the early Wednesday night Celtic Liturgy service at the local downtown Episcopal service before I head over to my own church.
I’ve read some of you older post lately Imonk, and like you I’m not one struggling with the “who has authority issue” so Roman Catholocism doesn’t really apeal to me (one of many reasons), but the order and safety of what the Anglican prayer book provides really is attractive to me as someone who feels very strongly that most baptist, especially the variety I minister to, and love very much by the way, have totally lost the idea of what worship really is.
Let me also say this Imonk, and I want to do this publicaly since my offense was public, but do excuse me for my aggressive town a few post ago. No excuses, but I have two things that really get me going.
I have a knee jerk negative reaction to any thing Roman Catholic and I have a bulldog tenaciousness in defending the traditions (or more specifically the people who hold to them) of my upbringing (think independant fundementalist). Because I know they are for the most folks very good people even though wrong on some things. (okay a lot of things)
It’s not the first time my quick tongue has got the best of me. Do forgive.
I’m not a catholic, but the most intuitive explanation of Purgatory that I’ve heard goes something like this.
1) God is a consuming fire (as described in Scripture).
2) In heaven, we enter into an intimate, unmediated relationship with God (think: deep embrace after a LONG flight in the middle seat 20 rows back in the coach section.)
3) What happens when you deeply embrace a consuming fire? The stuff that is not like God gets burned away (think: purged).
3a) The more junk you cling to, the hotter (and longer) the hug. Eventually, the dross is burned away, and the sinner is clean.
I think I read C.S. Lewis say something like “Purgatory is the washroom before the wedding feast of the Lamb.” More dirt, more scrubbing. Honestly, the image makes sense to me. As for the duration, no one knows, so I’m especially glad that the RCC has toned down (if not eliminated) all references to specific time increments.
iMonk, does that square with what you have heard?
J.B, I agree with your logic, but I think that the fire would be immediate, not a long tortuous, essential punishment.
I really like the humble postings by the Gangstas. Fr. Ernesto’s posting really touched me the most. I don’t pray at meal or bedtime and it shows in my walk, unfortunately.
Scott, immediate fire is OK by me… like a big solar flare (as opposed to a spark for my more sanctified brothers and sisters).
Here’s a helpful excerpt from C.S. Lewis (a gangsta in his own right) in his *Letters To Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer*
“Of course I pray for the dead. The action is so spontaneous, so all but inevitable, that only the most compulsive theological case against it would deter me. And I hardly know how the rest of my prayers would survive if those for the dead were forbidden. At our age, the majority of those we love best are dead. What sort of intercourse with God could I have if what I love best were unmentionable to him?
I believe in Purgatory.
Mind you, the Reformers had good reasons for throwing doubt on the ‘Romish doctrine concerning Purgatory’ as that Romish doctrine had then become…
The right view returns magnificently in Newman’s DREAM. There, if I remember it rightly, the saved soul, at the very foot of the throne, begs to be taken away and cleansed. It cannot bear for a moment longer ‘With its darkness to affront that light’. Religion has claimed Purgatory.
Our souls demand Purgatory, don’t they? Would it not break the heart if God said to us, ‘It is true, my son, that your breath smells and your rags drip with mud and slime, but we are charitable here and no one will upbraid you with these things, nor draw away from you. Enter into the joy’? Should we not reply, ‘With submission, sir, and if there is no objection, I’d rather be cleaned first.’ ‘It may hurt, you know’ – ‘Even so, sir.’
I assume that the process of purification will normally involve suffering. Partly from tradition; partly because most real good that has been done me in this life has involved it. But I don’t think the suffering is the purpose of the purgation. I can well believe that people neither much worse nor much better than I will suffer less than I or more. . . . The treatment given will be the one required, whether it hurts little or much.
My favourite image on this matter comes from the dentist’s chair. I hope that when the tooth of life is drawn and I am ‘coming round’,’ a voice will say, ‘Rinse your mouth out with this.’ This will be Purgatory. The rinsing may take longer than I can now imagine. The taste of this may be more fiery and astringent than my present sensibility could endure. But . . . it will [not] be disgusting and unhallowed.”
Antigone — interesting description of “creeping agnosticism” striking you as a creeping vine. I would say more like the kudzu that takes over land in the Deep South. But, the problem is not necessarily in the being agnostic. I prefer a hearty agnostic to a sniveling hypocrite any day. It is precisely in the contradiction that someone who behaves as though God may or may not exist in their daily lives but claims to be a Christian on Sunday, some Wednesdays and an occasional service outing is actually a hypocrite. On the women pastor issue, well, I suspect we will need to agree to disagree on this particular post. We can take that up some other time on some other post or blog.
Roman Catholics — we agree with the Protestants on purgatory. Bad doctrine. It is one of the areas that divides Romans and Orthodox.
Ah well – misunderstood, positive… and bad. I did hesitate to throw that “p” word in there, but there you have it. I would say, Fr. Ernesto, rather than call it “bad doctrine” – perhaps the way it has been handled by the Catholic Church or many Catholics is bad, but the underlying concept is the logical conclusion of a transformative soteriology – it could be, I’ll say that. The way many Catholics have and still do look at it, if they do at all, is, I agree, bad and unfortunate. I honestly don’t see how it gets to be such a divisive issue. Sorry if I threw a wrench in the mix, but it wasn’t even the focus of my answer. I should know by now, though, that if you bring that one up, it takes over. Peace.
As a young Catholic, I spent much of my intercessory energy praying for the poor souls in Purgatory. They were poor, I supposed, because they had to endure the suffering, the purgative pain, that would strip away from them the last vestiges of their attachment to sin before they could meet their heavenly Father.Popular piety seemed to suggest that the fires of Purgatory were only slightly less tormenting than the fires of Hell.
As an older and hopefully more mature Catholc, I realize that the Church has never made any dogmatic pronouncements about the nature of purgatorial purification. A state unencumbered in space and untethered in time, Catholics can claim a certain agnosticism about its nature. I prefer to think of it as the fitting room where I can make any last minute adustments to my wedding garment.
Fr. Ernesto; Where does the Orthodox concept of the aerial tollhouses fit into this discussion.
Shalom to all.
Kudzu, yep, that describes it well.
The 18 hours of class time I request at SB seminaries would be Humility 101 thru 422
there is a God and He ain’t you. Richardson’s choice of personality , or as he says individual over community is a huge problem with us. Washing the feet of the poor as a graduation exercise might help.
+Alan, Why that is such a divisive issue is a post in itself. It takes over like a bull takes over a china shop. It is HUGE!
Great job by each of the contributors, and these kinds of questions are exactly what should happen to promote Biblical ecumenicity. The very idea that the Orthodox are complimentary of Baptist preaching softens hearts. I appreciated it and I’m not even a Baptist, just a struggling preacher. But it made me want to appreciate the richness of other traditions even more.
Filoque – there was great debate in the latter part of the 20th century in the USA over the issue of the “aerial tollhouses” where there had been no such great debate before in Orthodox history. Rather, that issue was considered more to be a permitted private theological opinion (a theologoumena) that could neither be fully proven nor fully disproven.
Fortunately, the synod of bishops of one of our jurisdictions stepped in and pronounced itself saying, “Taking all of the foregoing into consideration, the Synod of Bishops resolve: In the deliberations on life after death one must in general keep in mind that it has not pleased the Lord to reveal to us very much aside from the fact that the degree of a soul’s blessedness depends on how much a man’s life on the earth has been truly Christian, and the degree of a man’s posthumous suffering depends upon the degree of sinfulness. To add conjectures to the little that the Lord has been pleased to reveal to us is not beneficial to our salvation, and all disputes in this domain are now especially detrimental, the more so when they become the object of the discussion of people who have not been fully established in the Faith. Acrid polemic apart from the spirit of mutual love turns such an exchange of opinions from a deliberation into an argument about words. The positive preaching of truths of the Church may be profitable, but not disputes in an area which is not subject to our investigation, but which evokes in the unprepared reader false notions on questions of importance to our salvation.”
They then forbade the magazine of their jurisdiction from publishing any more articles on the state of humans after death and before the Final Judgment. That attitude has now become the common attitude amongst the various jurisdictions in the USA and Canada. Of course, one can still find individuals trying to debate the issue . . . .
In other words, we do not know much that we can declare about the intermediate state between death and the Second Judgment. We do know from Scripture and the Fathers that even before the Second Judgment, even before the opening of the Book of Life, those who die experience something of the blessedness that is to come or something of the judgment that is to come, but that the final fulfillment of the promises and declarations of God awaits our Lord’s Second Coming.
In practice, that means that, among the Orthodox, private opinions, both pro and con, on “tollhouses” are allowed (and even pro opinions found in some of our hymns) provided that they do not become disputes.
Dear Michael and Father Ernesto, why are you trying to make me convert to Orthodoxy?
Filoque, I just realized that I did not actually answer your question. Some who believe in aerial tollhouses would argue very similarly to the Roman Church, that they are stages of purification. But, they would streneously argue against any sort of judicial connection. In other words, there is no correlation between amount or type of sins and “time” spent passing by the tollhouses. Some who believe in aerial tollhouses see them more as a great victory march, in which the demons cannot stop the soul bound for glory.
Those who do not believe in the tollhouses argue that this is bad Gnostic thought that crept in and should not be taught.
As you can see, our bishops basically said to “knock it off” since we have no clear way of knowing exactly what happens after death and there is no clear indication in Scripture or Holy Tradition, and only visions by some of our saints, which visions may be only symbolic.
To the rest, let me point out, however, that the discussion of whether the soul goes immediately to a foretaste of blessedness or judgment (depending on whether one will be saved or will not be saved) or whether the blessed soul experiences some form of progressive transformation experience is a discussion that goes all the way back to the first three centuries of the Church. The discussion is not simply something that the Roman Church supposedly invented. However, it was wrong of the Roman Church to declare a dogma on a subject such as this one, where, as our bishops have commented, there is no clear warrant of either Scripture or Holy Tradition.
Thanks iMonk and Gangstas. Really enjoying this.
My comment/question is for Alan Creech, regarding “praying to the saints.”
To me, it seems one thing to ask for intercession from believing loved ones who have died. Having had a relationship with them, maybe an intimate relationship, the impulse is at least quite natural. Why should the relationship end now?
It seems another thing to pray to a venerated saint known only by biography or stained glass. Sure, you could say we have communion with Saint Marcus the Smaller because he is our brother in Christ. Granted. But we don’t know him. Not at all. And human nature being what it is, I’m afraid this all to easily devolves into pleading for a little extra representation from someone who’s tighter with the Boss. I guess we would agree that the fullness of grace in Christ Jesus wipes away all necessity of that? (And in the process, guards us from further devolving into idolatrous devotion.)
Maybe that’s what you meant by being misunderstood from within too. Or am I missing something in my distinction? Does the Catholic Church (or your experience of it) make the distinction between these two kinds of praying to the saints?
David B,
While I am not Alan, I hope that I can answer your question.
We do not make a distinction between asking a recognized saint, such as John Chrysostom, vs an unrecognized one, such as Dr. Pettigrew, the Baptist preacher who baptized me. The only difference is that the recognized ones have been watched longer, devotions have sprung up and miracles have been seen when some have prayed to them.
One thing that I have noticed is that some saints, even though I know them ONLY through their writings and decent biographies, are like friends; others I have no emotional or any other kind of connection.
Will,
Washing the feet of the poor as a graduation exercise might help.
You have a good point. I have taken most of my humility classes outside of seminary in ministry and life. But if that were the final exam, I haven’t gotten to that point yet.
I also want to echo my appreciation for the Gangstas. I enjoy the chance to see these issues from many sides.
Austin: Your comments have been stopping by the moderation station on their way here, but any man who can admit his fundamentalist upbringing sometimes pulls the grenade pin is a friend of mine. Moderation lifted.
Austin – Celtic Liturgy? As an Irishwoman, I groan when I see “Celtic” slapped on the front of anything. Oh, well, I won’t fuss about the American version of Anglicanism appropriating Irish, Scottish and Welsh history after the English suppressed our peoples, languages, and customs *this* time
I’ll bite about what is the most misunderstood positive element in our tradtion: the Pope. And for what we could learn from others? Good homilies. Too often, the preaching is like the parody version of the hymn that goes “Awake from your slumbers/Arise from your sleep/The sermon is over/It wasn’t too deep!”
Love this post. I appreciate how your site/work/writing help me better understand and see the reality of the Communion of the Saints. Going now to track down more of this series…
Hey David B: On the distinction, Anna is right, there is none really, that the Church gives us. I understand where you’re coming from relationally. I would say that is something that would be only from our perspective as yet very limited in our ability to see and know.
There probably is something to the getting a favor from someone who’s tighter with “the boss” – sort of – but I’m thinking not in the way that you are insinuating, i.e., a negative selfish kind of mafia sort of way. I think it’s more like asking someone on earth we know to be very mature and strong in their faith, whom we highly respect, to pray for us. In asking for our siblings in that realm to pray for us, we are asking those who certainly do have a much bigger clue than any of us. I mentioned the “know as we are known” thing – I really think this is part of the central key to the whole thing – that those who are enveloped in the fullness of the Life of God are able to know as He knows and therefore, are able to pray/intercede in a way that we can’t even fully comprehend.
Again, I understand the close relationship thing, and there is nothing against asking those whom we have loved on earth to pray for us in heaven. Them not being “canonized” is not to say that they are not “there.” But the completeness of the union that we all have with one another in Christ is also a bit beyond our ability to fully know – but they know it, and in that union, that Communion of Saints we can ask just as much of St. Francis or Thomas Merton as from Fr. Killian (the priest who baptized and mentored me) or Mark Palmer (my good friend who died a couple of years ago.
I hope any of that helped to un-muddy the waters a bit. Peace to you.
Anna A,
Thanks for your answer. I can certainly relate to feeling a connection to people we’ve only met in a bio or from their own words. I feel plenty of those connections, imagined as they are. So I get that.
I guess what wierds me out is the whole praying TO. Maybe I’m landing too hard on the “to?” It just seems that persons who get prayed to should have certain things going for them. Like omniscience. What if five people prayed to St. John Chrysostom all at once? Could he attend to all of them? God sits outside time. Not a problem for Him. But I don’t think St. John, even the glorified St. John, really warrants this sort of confidence. But how would I know?
I guess I just have a hard time separating out “praying to” from worshiping. Especially in real human practice, fraught as it must be with the bent toward idolatry.
Why wouldn’t we go right to our Father with our prayers? Or to Jesus? I understand the emotional connection thing. But wouldn’t we be better off, when it comes to our affections, to steal from Peter and Paul to give to Jesus? After all, our connection to Him isn’t imagined at all. And we’ll probably have plenty left over for the saints.
Am I just really butchering the Catholic understanding of this?
Oh. And I posted that last one before I read yours Alan.
Thanks. Now I’ll read it.
Not sure if my answer will help clarify more or not – but on the “praying TO” thing – that gets out of hand sometimes, as if we, as I mentioned, were asking the Saint to DO something FOR us of themselves, which I do not believe they can. Try to see “pray to” as more like we were living in old Englande “St. Francis, I pray thee, intercede on our behalf as we start this new monastery.” So, it is talking TO, asking them to pray for us, but that’s all we really should be expecting of them.
And the question, “why wouldn’t we go right to the Father?” is not uncommon. And my answer would be, well, why don’t we here and now? We ask our siblings in Christ to pray for us all the time on earth. We are encouraged to do this in the Scriptures. We’re even encouraged to have other sinful humans lay hands on us and anoint us when we’re sick, etc. Because we are all part of the One Body of Christ. “I” am not the Body – “we” are the Body. I think that’s a little more complex than we give it credit for sometimes. I cannot pray as I ought. I don’t have enough strength by myself to do what I need to do. But my brother or sister might – we fill in each others’ lacks and gaps.
Last thing – I do believe that those who are in the heavenly realm are outside of time with and in God, so no problem for them either. Peace.
+Alan,
If my boss tells all of us who work here, “Come to my office anytime. I want to talk with each of you,” that should be plain enough. It doesn’t mean there is anything wrong with sending a friend or asking another person to go to him in addition to me, etc. Of course not.
But the invitation wasn’t to send someone else, or to line up ten people to speak for me. It was to come to him personally. Scriptural invitations to prayer and scriptural admonitions to pray for others/ask for others to pray are two entirely different things.
My boss might eventually have some questions if I stopped by, but also sent others. Do I think he needs to be nagged? Does he not know before I ask what I need? Did he teach me to come to him, by name?
I hear these explanations for praying to and with, and that’s fine. It’s just a different matter, and one where I think there is a distinct danger of losing focus on how and why they differ.
All of us teach our children that it is OK to ask others to pray for them. But what if I suspect that is coming at the expense of simple prayer to the Father on their part? I’d say we would all clear ulp that distinction and encourage the child to pray to God in assurance that they are heard as a beloved child with no other “help” needed but the great mediator/intercessor.
ms
It’s just that when you’re going “Ah, no! I can’t find my keys – again! St. Anthony, help me out here!”, that it makes more sense to annoy St. Anthony rather than the Trinity for a piddling affair like that.
It’s a family thing. It’s the same as asking your brother or sister, rather than going to your mother or father. It’s also asking for help from those who have lived through it already, the same as you’d ask a friend on earth for advice for how did you cope? e.g. St. Rita for marital problems, or the Holy Souls for help.
It’s not so much asking X to do me this favour and I’ll pay X back (though yes, that element is going to be there, since we’re all fallen humans), as it is asking X to add his or her prayers to mine; X being in the presence of God and totally conformed to the will of God, if it is God’s will I should get what I’m praying for, will join their entreaties to mine. X can be an example – you struggled with the same problems, you tackled the problem in a way I can relate to, you understand me.
Of course it is all down to the grace of God, and not by any individual powers of the saints. And of course you can go straight to God and never invoke a saint if you wish. But you can also pray to (in the sense of ‘ask for help’, as in “I pray you, tell me” not the sense of “I worship you instead of God”).
It’s family
Okay, more of the infamous “Catholic use of the Bible”, but the invocation of saints (and yeah, probably could use a better term, since nowadays ‘invocation’ makes people think of magic spells) reminds me of Abraham bargaining with God for Sodom:
“And Abraham drew near, and said, Wilt thou also destroy the righteous with the wicked?
24 Peradventure there be fifty righteous within the city: wilt thou also destroy and not spare the place for the fifty righteous that are therein?
25 That be far from thee to do after this manner, to slay the righteous with the wicked: and that the righteous should be as the wicked, that be far from thee: Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?
26 And the LORD said, If I find in Sodom fifty righteous within the city, then I will spare all the place for their sakes.”
And Abraham beats God down from 50 to 10: if ten righteous men can be found, Sodom will be spared.
How can this be? How can the individual righteousness of these men save the mass of the rest of the sinners?
God *wants* to be beaten down, God *wants* to save and not destroy, God *wants* Abraham to intercede for his neighbours, bad as they were. Grace is pourng out like water spilling over the bowl of a fountain.
Martha:
These are good illustrations of Catholic practice, and we all believe that Abraham’s intercessory prayer is model for all of us going to God and asking for his mercy.
But saying I don’t want to bother God with the keys, so I’ll ask St. Anthony….isn’t St. Anthony going to bother God about the keys? Or is he answering prayers for finding keys? In which case, I’ll say that I don’t believe that at all.
This all amounts to Catholic practice and that’s great. To each his own application of communion of saints. But the Biblical teaching on prayer is rock solid in 150 Psalms, dozens and dozens of prayers and dozens of passages on prayer. None of them instruct us to ask St. Anthony or anyone else for anything that God controls. And if they are in communion with us and aren’t already praying for us, what’s the problem?
peace
ms
It just somehow doesn’t feel quite right to say “Father in heaven, it is right that we should give you thanks and glory: you are the one God, living and true. Through all eternity you live in unapproachable light.
Source of life and goodness, you have created all things, to fill your creatures with every blessing and lead all men to the joyful vision of your light. Countless hosts of angels stand before you to do your will; they look upon your splendor and praise you, night and day.
United with them, and in the name of every creature under heaven, we too praise your glory as we say:
I know I had the front-door key just a moment ago. I left it down out of my hand and now I can’t find it. Could you help me out here?”
Michael, you’re the father of a family. If your children came to your wife for advice, or to talk about something that was bothering them, or to discuss something going on, would you go “I’M the head of this house – you want something, you come to ME”?
(And it strikes me that yes, there probably are some men out there so hung up on the ‘spiritual headship’ thing, they would behave exactly like that.)
Your missus talks to you about the kids anyway, doesn’t she? Or if one of your children asked their sibling for help, the same way. It’s not trying to replace, displace, or ignore you.
Which sounds flippant, but I’m trying to put this into daily life examples. Of course it’s not necessary to go to the saints – that’s kind of the whole point, in a way. It’s all gratuitous, it’s all free, it’s all in the region where love is increased by being shared and all has its source in the One burning furnace of charity. God knows all this and all is done from, through, and by God.
God would have made the ten righteous men channels of grace for their neighbours in Sodom. God makes the saints channels of grace for us, not because they’ve ‘earned’ it or because they have ‘power’, but because we are all part of the Body. We are interdependent, and one of the hard things we have to learn is to cast aside our spiritual pride and be beggars holding out our hands for help because we don’t have the resources ourselves and we can’t do it on our own. Like the envious in Dante’s “Purgatorio”, who are leaning against one another for support, like blind beggars at the door of a church.
I’m bad at explaining this. It’s one of those things that looks weird from the outside but when you’ve grown up with it, it’s perfectly natural. I’m sure Baptists, Calvinists and others have the same things going on with them.
Oh, you’re going to kill me for this
The invocation of saints is like the Parable of the Persistent Friend.
We’re the man who arrives late in the night, looking for bed and board from the saints. The saints are the friend who goes to their other friend and pester him for bread to feed this hungry friend until he gives it.
If you tell your boss about something, he may or may not act on it. If ten people go to your boss about the exact same thing, isn’t he more likely to say “Okay, maybe I should do something about this”?
Or what – it’s okay to ask my living family to pray for my intentions, but my family asleep in Christ can just be forgotten? It’s all about love – or it should be. They love us and want to help us, even in silly small things like finding lost keys. For men and women who in their earthly lives gave up their own beds to strangers, took them into their homes, gave them their own food, sold their jewels, gave away their father’s sword to, or cut their own cloak in half for, a leper – there is no act of love too small to be done
Martha:
You appear to be trying to convince me. I am not trying to convince you. OK. I’m quite fine with your practice.
As to God and the keys….I have it on good authority that God cares about sparrows, flowers, hairs on my head, coins in fishes mouths, feeding one old lady and her son…do I need to go on?
I simply don’t have a Biblical command or an example from my teacher in prayer- Jesus- to ask dead people to do anything for me.
My boss would ask why I am innundating him when a simple request from me is what matters. Better, if my son sent all his friends to me, I would weep that our relationship was so complex that he couldn’t just say “Dad, I need your help.”
Like I said, I’m not trying to convince you. Same favor please.
ms
Well, if I was saying anything close to “don’t pray to God, pray to Saints instead” or that we shouldn’t be focusing primarily (wholly really) on God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, then you might have a little more weight there. I am not, therefore… Ah well.
All the admonitions, even commands(?) for us to pray for one another, even to ask one another to pray for us to God, to Jesus, that the Holy Spirit might even work through another person toward us or through us toward another person – all that business about God doing anything at all through His people, and choosing to do so instead of somehow manifesting Himself in front of our eyes in a way our bodies could scarcely handle in their present state – is out the window if it all winds down to “just focus on God and don’t ever count on people because by doing so, you might lose focus on God” – out the window.
I understand that it’s a different practice than what many Christians are used to. And I am not saying that if you don’t engage in this way of interacting with the Communion of Saints that you will “miss God’s Grace” or “not have the Gospel” or anything of the sort. But some arguments work and some don’t, and to me, the ones about not asking someone to pray for you (while in heaven) but to only ever go to God just don’t work – not in logical connection with the way we live here, with how God has instructed us to be with one another here.
Somewhat of a philosophical backdrop to all this, briefly, might be that the reason that God has instructed us to do anything the way we do it now on earth – the Church, praying, spiritual gifts, the whole need for a Bible, theology, sacraments, anything, all of it – all these things are only needed because we are in a broken, fallen state of being. If we weren’t, we wouldn’t need any of this. We wouldn’t need to pray at all or be a part of the Church – there wouldn’t be a Church, no need for it. So, if we were all in our original state of perfect Union with God then what you say would be right there. We would all be right there with no need to ask for anyone to pray for us, no need for an intermediary between us and God (not even Jesus having come in the flesh – He wouldn’t have needed to do that).
But as it is, we need prayer – to pray, to have people pray for us, to ask for prayer – sometimes we need (God knows this and set things up this way because of our inability to live as we were created to live) Him to work in us through our siblings. The whole notion of people praying for us in heaven is along these lines. Ultimately, when we’re ALL “there,” it won’t be necessary any more. We’re all moving toward that full immediate Union, but we’re not all there yet, so there are all manner of things we do or can do to help us get to that point in this broken mess. This, as I see it, is just one of those things.
Now, having been verbose and said all that – wheeww – I don’t expect to have convinced you, or really anyone here. Maybe it makes more sense in a certain way of looking at things? I don’t know. I’m not looking for you to go to RCIA. That’s not my goal – you know that by now I think. But I do like doing what I can to explain things that I feel aren’t quite understood as they could be sometimes. Peace to thee.
As long-standing Protestant from a line of same (sixth great grandfather started an Old Covenenters Church; others were with Roger Williams getting chased out of anywhere; others were off starting other churches), I totally get Martha’s point.
A few years back, we had a cancer scare with our oldest child. He was 9 years old at the time.
I prayed the Hail Mary (I’m not sure how I know it; but I know every word) prefaced by a “Father, if you find this offensive, please ignore it; it’s not coming from a place of idolatry), I asked my late grandmother to pray for my boy; I asked my late father to pray for my boy same — prefaces). I also fell to my knees while making my boy’s bed and prayed to my heavenly Father and to my Savior, and to the Spirit. I prayed and prayed and prayed and prayed. When I ran out of things to say, I asked the Spirit to pray with groans too deep for words, and I prayed the Lord’s prayer, when my well was otherwise and completely dry.
With my Nana, particularly, I knew that if she was in a position to pray, she would bother the Lord on my behalf like no other. She could pray while I sleep. She could pray eternally, because she’s in eternity with the Father.
On the flip side (praying for the dead), we have always said bedtime prayers with our children. We say “Now I lay me,” and then we ask for blessings for each of us, Nana and Grampy (my parents), Nanny and Papa, and all of our aunties and uncles and cousins and friends. We then add in prayers for anyone we know who’s in special need at the time. When my father died, I wondered if we should keep Grampy in the prayer. The answer from the kids (and from my once RC husband) was a resounding yes. And so we said yes. When I thought about it privately, I realized we meant no harm, only good, and that the Lord knows our hearts, and because of that, it was good and proper to continue to remember my father in prayer.
+Alan, etc.
I guess I’m not doing too well here because I’m really not impressed or unimpressed by logical connect the dots. So we have all these verses about doing things for one another, and that includes the communion of saints. Great. No complaint.
We have no examples of praying to or for the dead in the Protestant canon. We have 150+ Psalms prayed to God, the Lord’s Prayer, the example of Jesus and all the New Testament prayers. None mentioning saints, the departed etc. We have Revelation clearly showing the prayers of the saints ascending to God from earth and from heaven if you like. As I said, no complaints.
And then we have a lot of practice, and prayers prayed in situations, etc. Someone I know well is basically impressed that Mary seems to be answering prayers. I’m not offended. I don’t condemn it.
I just can’t substantiate something as what I ought to do when scripture doesn’t tell me to do it. I can do it, and be impressed by what others say and do. I can find supporting texts and connect them with my practice. I can- and will be- generous to all those who pray to whatever conception of the communion of saints they relate to.
But I’m not going to say that implications, logical deductions and experiences are authoritative in the face of the texts we have on prayer, demonstrating prayer and teaching on prayer.
We do, btw, have one Biblical character who did greatly desire to speak directly to one of the departed, with a specific prayer request. Saul.
I know you love this
peace
ms
BTW- the case being made here is part of a large body of Christian practice that occurs at a level where scripture (our brand) is basically silent on the specifics, but open to interpretations that support the conclusion. An example in my tradition would be the public invitation or altar call.
peace
ms
Oh Thomas Merton of Gethsemani – pray for us.