Tags

Recent comments prompted by Jessica’s reflections on the Anglican tradition and women as priests, included the reflection that my own journey into communion with Rome had been prompted, in part, by the decision of the Church of England to ordain women. As Evelyn Waugh might have put it: “up to a point Lord Copper.” Which, is, of course, English understatement meaning “not quite the whole story.”
Nonetheless, cross the Tiber I did. But, as some elsewhere have pointed out, that does not make me the same as a cradle Catholic, which statement, whilst true to the point of being a truism, omits more than it says. Cradle Catholics come in a variety of forms, after all, and the same is true of converts and reverts. A very common feature of the latter is what some have called “convertitis” – that is to say becoming almost more Catholic than the Pope (here I shall insert a mental pause for people to add what they will mentally).
I never thought to cease being an Anglican, and in very many ways not only can I not cease being influenced by that inheritance, I would not want to be. It was not that I did not understand the arguments being used to justify the ordination of women, or that I did not appreciate the decision to allow those of us who could not, in good conscience accept it, it was that it seemed to me that the Church of England was on a journey on which I should have been an unwilling passenger. I firmly believed, yes and truly, that the Church of England was part of the universal Church, but as I looked around me, I could see only that it had, unilaterally, taken a decision that cut across decades of ecumenism.
Had I been a Protestant, I daresay that would have been fine, but I am not. I was a High Anglican, and stood where Newman stood in the 1830s, but also where Pusey stood all his life. I admire Pusey greatly, and he had kept me steady – but the Church moved beyond where it was in his day, and so I did what other High Anglicans did, which was to refer to their own history, remember the admiration the Caroline Divines had for the Orthodox, and went in that direction.
Like Pusey, I had the view that the Catholic Church in the Latin Rite had added things to the faith once received, which might, or might not be warranted, but which only an Ecumenical Council could prescribe; there being none, and the Papal claims being exaggerated, the Orders of the Orthodox Church were the ark of refuge. There I found great holiness, great prayer, great love for God, and a liturgy the angels in Heaven participated in envy of man’s gift. But, but, and but, something was not right.
Part of that was cultural. Orthodoxy’s history has tended to make it very much a cultural phenomenon, and whilst some quite liked turning themselves into Russians (I know one Englishman who ended up speaking with a foreign accent!), that was not me. But it was more than that. Was I right about the Pope and the additions? How far was that the Anglican in me?
That was Newman. Before ever Newman was even declared Blessed, I had a devotion to him, and I asked for his help, that being the sort of thing a High Anglican/Orthodox might do. I thought I’d understood what he was saying about development of doctrine, but I hadn’t – not with my heart. I stopped reading and prayed about it.
As I did, the clearer it became that what I, and the Orthodox, said were ‘additions’ were true developments. If there was a ‘eureka!’ moment, it was the one Newman had had long before me: Peter was the Rock, the Pope was Peter’s successor, not being in communion with Rome was to be in schism and, most likely, heresy!
But I did not want to be a Roman Catholic; tough, if I wanted to be in Christ’s Church, that was what had to happen. Now, were I fortunate, I might have a branch of the Ordinariate nearby, and life would be easier in that respect. But this was before all of that, and so it was necessary to go through the whole process. It was a curious one, not least since most of it was more than familiar to me, and there was a great deal less veneration of Our Lady than my Anglican background had given me. But there it was, and I could do no other.
All of this was not a search for Christianity, it was a search for the right place in which to be a Christian. I remain grateful for the Anglican spirit which allows me not to rush to judgement on my fellow Christians. If a fellow is doing his best by the lights given to him, it really is not my job to throw stones at him, but rather to talk with him, or her, on the way, and swap notes and stories, as pilgrims do. It isn’t about turning myself into the best Catholic, it is about being in the place where my long journey with God is best placed.
Oh, how wonderful is this article? Outstanding.
When the Episcopal Church in America (ECUSA) became apostate, I had to make a decision – to stay or to go. I was baptized and confirmed in the Episcopal Church; I always imagined I’d be a womb to tomb Episcopalian. The last straw, for me, was a video of Katherine Jeffords Schiori, then the Presiding Bishop of the ECUSA (think Michael Curry at the Prince Harry’s wedding), telling a congregation, in church no less, that Jesus is NOT the only way to God. Think about that for a minute. There was so much hew and cry that the Church took down the video – too little too late. The congregation sat there while she told them Jesus is a liar.
Fortunately, in the late 60s and early 70s, many men of God (priests) saw the writing on the wall and started what we now call “Continuing Churches” (most of which are considered Anglo-Catholic), they are the old Episcopal Church with its 1928 Book of Common Prayer and all the rites and wisdom we’ve received through the ages. That’s where I wound up. Safe haven in a world gone mad.
It was difficult enough to make this change from Episcopal to Anglican; I cannot even imagine what prayer and concern went into deciding to convert to a different denomination. Making that change is fraught with often unasked for advice from friends and family – in my example, my husband (who hasn’t been in ANY church in 50 yrs!), and an Air Force veteran, looked at me in disgust and said, “You’re leaving your friends behind”. Like in war – no man left behind. It was a war; for me anyway. But I came to the conclusion that it’s only me who is going to face God in the final judgement and I didn’t want staying in an apostate church to be among the things I have to account for.
Thank you for sharing your story – and thank you for allowing me to share mine.
LikeLiked by 4 people
Thank you, Audre, very much. I think your story makes an interesting parallel, and if I might, I think it would make an interesting post.
Many thanks.
LikeLiked by 3 people
Indeed so. I knew probably more than most of C’s Journey, having long been here, and being his friend in good and bad times, so nothing in this surprises me, and I am well aware of parallels in my own life.
Have grown up in the E&R the German forced marriage of Lutheran and Reformed and then being received into the ELCA. But as one can surmise from what I say, it is an uneasy relationship. Parallels to C’s journey certainly, But perhaps more closely to Audre’s sketched here/
I too think Audre’s account of her decision would make an excellent post.
LikeLiked by 3 people
Glad you agree, Neo – I do hope Audre will consider it. There is clearly more on offer in the USA by way of diversity.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Probably so, but that also means that one has to perhaps pay more attention to what the church teaches. My point being that ECUSA and Continuing Anglican both use the 39 Articles, just as the ELCA and LCMS both use Luther’s Catechism but they and up in completely different places.
Caveat Emptor, as they say, After all, as Audre commented, It’ your soul at stake.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is a lovely post – I remember well talking with you not long after and the photos you shared. It’s quite the journey, and you’re rare – you can still write with love about what you left x
LikeLiked by 4 people