Supper Club Series #4: Yuill

Sanctity & Sacrament by Chick Yuill

Insights for Salvationists from an Oxford Don, a contemporary poet and a Jesuit priest

t would not be in the least surprising to me if more than a few of you, on reading the title of this paper, were thinking, “Not that old chestnut again!” Certainly, for all of my adult life, the subject of the sacraments has been a point of discussion amongst us, and some have understandably grown weary of the topic. I have heard it dismissed as essentially a “second order” question and one that, on whatever side of the debate one stands, has little to do with the vital tasks of mission, service and evangelism.

Obviously, the fact that I have chosen to address the subject, albeit from a somewhat different angle, will indicate that I consider it to be much more important than of secondary interest. I hold that position not just because I believe that the subject itself is worthy of more serious discussion than it is receiving in our movement at this time, but also because I believe it impinges upon other issues that demand and deserve our attention.

The main street of Ephesus

Many of us will be aware that at the International Theology and Ethics Symposium in Johannesburg in August 2006, a paper was presented as part of the concluding reflections. Having made reference to “the theological naivety of those sincere and well-meaning colleagues advocating some kind of re-adoption of formal sacraments,” the paper went on to state, somewhat sweepingly in my opinion, that “the history of sacraments in the churches has been marked by strife and division at every turn,” and then added that “the divine and consistent leadings of God among us for many generations has blessedly freed us from all of that.” The conclusion is, in my opinion, startling:

We have heard and agreed…that many kinds of symbolism can be useful to us all…However, Salvationists are called by God to do without the sacraments or anything that could be mistaken for a sacrament.

I have set that last sentence in italics because it seems to be taking us to a place we have never been before. Moreover, I would contend that accepting the usefulness of all kinds of symbolism on the one hand while insisting that we must not only forswear the sacraments per se, but also avoid anything that could be mistaken for a sacrament, is to be guilty of a perverse illogicality. Indeed, an intelligent and imaginative grasp of a proper theology of both creation and incarnation will lead us to the glorious discovery that there is a quality of sacrament shot through our world which is not be avoided but embraced.

Mosaic Paul would have walked on: Ephesus

But before I come to the heart of my argument, let me prepare the way by covering as swiftly as I can some ground on this matter—the varied explanations and apologies for our non-observance of baptism and communion that have been put forward in the course of our history. The path may be well-trodden, but it is anything but a straight or smooth trail as it twists and turns its way in different directions and through an undulating theological and ecclesiological landscape.

It is an undisputed fact of history that the initial impetus for our stance came from Catherine Booth and George Scott Railton. The latter was a radical through and through, and generally impatient with—even intolerant of—anything he considered “churchy” and anything that would get in the way of his passionate evangelistic instincts. It is difficult to avoid the conclusion that in Railton’s case, the plea for the Army to abstain from the use of baptism and communion was as basic as the fact that he wanted every meeting to end in a call for decision and simply knowing where to place either communion or baptism was a practical difficulty he could well do without.

Stone inscription in Ephesus

For Catherine Booth, it went deeper. Ceremonies and sacraments represented just another example of what she was pleased to describe as “mock salvation.” She protested that people were “taught that by going through them, or partaking of them, they are to be saved”—a distorted theology she greatly feared. She believed that there was “an inveterate tendency…in the human heart to trust in outward forms, instead of seeking the inward grace.” Clearly the cold formalism that afflicted much of the church of that day contributed to a spiritual climate in which Catherine saw these ceremonies as being a dangerous and delusive substitute for a real heart religion.

For William Booth, ever the pragmatist, the pressure from his wife and his first commissioner was reinforced by a number of practical issues. The ministry of women was important to him, and for some of his followers, a woman administering the sacraments was a bridge too far. In addition, his converts, contrary to what is sometimes imagined, did not all come from the taproom or the gutter. Many came from other parts of the church and found in Booth’s Army an opportunity for ministry denied to them elsewhere. They brought with them, however, differing interpretations of the meaning of and the means of administering the sacraments. For Booth, that raised a possibility of divisiveness that he was more than anxious to avoid. And though it is often cited as a major reason, I suspect that the problem of reformed drunks getting a taste for the bottle again was not a significant factor. There are historical records of the Lord’s Supper being celebrated with water, so they seemed to have little difficulty in overcoming that problem.

The temple in Ephesus

But when these issues were linked to the fact that he did not believe the sacraments to be essential to salvation, that he did not perceive them to be indisputably commanded by scripture, and that he had no concern for ecclesiology, he came to the conclusion that this was a question that had to be put on one side for the time being. His statement in The War Cry of 17 January 1883 made his position clear for the time being:

Now if the sacraments are not conditions of salvation; if there is a general division of opinion as to the proper mode of administering them, and if the introduction of them would create division of opinion and heart-burning, and if we are not professing to be a church, nor aiming at being one, but simply a force for aggressive salvation purposes, is it not wise for us to postpone any settlement of the question, to leave it over to some future day, when we shall have more light, and see more clearly our way before us?

It is now pretty well the official stance that Booth never intended his words about the possibility of further discussion on “some future day” to be taken seriously, but that he made this statement simply out of “an irenic spirit of diplomacy” to quiet the minds of those who were less sure than he was himself. However, apart from the fact that this interpretation of his words suggests that he was being disingenuous and less than honest, it does not square with the record of his earliest major biographer, Harold Begbie, who stated, “To [Booth’s] life’s end, certainly for many long years after his decision, he was occasionally disturbed as to its wisdom.” Begbie even goes so far as to add, “To the end of his days there were moments when he looked almost wistfully to the sacraments…and there were moments when he appears to have doubted, if only transiently, the wisdom of his decision.”

Detail on the temple in Ephesus

Nonetheless, the situation regarding the non-observance of baptism and communion has remained to this day despite attempts to initiate formal discussion and some breaches of official policy in actual practice by some who are either brave, foolhardy or misguided, depending on your point of view. And over the years, a succession of apologists has emerged to defend and explain our position from a number of different perspectives.

Whilst the Spiritual Life Commission of a decade ago argued with some cogency that sacramental language in the New Testament is reserved for Christ as the true musterion of God—the Greek word which the Latin Vulgate rendered as sacramentum—and that the very different language of holiness and sanctification should be more properly used of the life of the believer, they pressed their argument too hard in my opinion and in doing so flew in the face of the best expression of the Army’s traditional position. That line of argument—beautifully, movingly and poetically expressed by Albert Orsborne—has been that the sacramental principle is too big and too important to be limited to a ceremony and that, properly understood, the true sacrament is the fully surrendered life of the Christian:

My life must be Christ’s broken bread,
My love his outpoured wine,
A cup o’er filled, a table spread
Beneath his name and sign,
That other souls, refreshed and fed,
May share his life through mine.

This, to me, is the Army’s position at its best. But alas, it now seems that the noble and worthy position of Orsborne and his like has been hijacked and even perverted into a rather unpleasant statement of superiority—one which not only denigrates the convictions of many sincere, seeking and troubled Salvationists, but also effectively dismisses almost the entire Christian church who do not share our position. I quote from the aforementioned statement to the Theological and Ethics Symposium:

I long for the day when there will be a renewed intellectual and experiential grasp of holiness and sanctification teaching. I agree…that the scramble for pseudo-sacraments is linked to the demise in the understanding and teaching of the blessing of a clean heart. Where these truths remain alive in the Army, red juice fails to fascinate the comrades.

I would contend, however, that the real issue—and here I come to the heart of my argument—is not that red juice fascinates less spiritual comrades who are not sufficiently tutored in the blessing of a clean heart, but that faith in Jesus Christ as a perfectly adequate, all-sufficient Saviour does not nullify our humanity. And our humanity, no less when it is redeemed by the death of Christ and regenerated by his indwelling Holy Spirit, is so formed by a loving Creator-God, that it will inevitably apprehend and witness to spiritual realities in tangible physical expression and through material objects. Indeed, to suggest that we can function spiritually, emotionally or relationally without the physical/material realm is to deny the very nature of our existence as human beings and to leave ourselves with only one route to God, that of an impossibly and impractically extreme mysticism.

Detail on the temple in Ephesus

Others, including David Taylor in his excellent thesis Marching Orders, have made the case for sacramental observation by appealing to the nature of the church. I do so now by appealing first to the nature of creation—by way of referencing an Oxford Don, a literary critic, a writer of children’s classics and science fiction, the supreme popular apologist of the twentieth century, but a much underrated poet: C.S. Lewis. Here is his wonderful poem “On Being Human”:

Angelic minds, they say, by simple intelligence
Behold the forms of nature. They discern
Unerringly the Archtypes, all the verities
Which mortals lack or indirectly learn.
Transparent in primordial truth, unvarying,
Pure Earthness and right Stonehood from their clear
High eminence are seen; unveiled, the seminal
Huge Principles appear.

The Tree-ness of the tree they know—the meaning of
Arboreal life, how from the earth’s salty lap
The solar beam uplifts it, all the holiness
Enacted by the leaves’ fall and rising sap;
But never an angel knows the knife-edged severance
Of sun from shadow where the trees begin,
The blessed cool at every pore caressing us
—An angel has no skin.

They see the form of air, but mortals breathing it
Drink the whole summer down into the breast.
The lavish pinks, the field new-mown, the ravishing
Sea-smells, the wood-fire smoke that whispers Rest.
The tremor on the rippled pool of memory
That from each smell in widening circles goes,
The pleasure and the pang—can angels measure it?
An angel has no nose.

The nourishing of life, and how it flourishes
On death, and why, they utterly know; but not
The hill-born, earthy spring, the dark cold bilberries
The ripe peach from the southern wall still hot,
Full-bellied tankards foamy-topped, the delicate
Half-lyric lamb, a new loaf’s billowy curves,
Nor porridge, nor the tingling taste of oranges
—An angel has no nerves.

Far richer they! I know the senses’ witchery
Guards us, like air, from heavens too big to see;
Imminent death to man that barb’d sublimity
And dazzling edge of beauty unsheathed would be.
Yet here, within this tiny, charm’d interior,
This parlour of the brain, their Maker shares
With living men some secrets in a privacy
Forever ours, not theirs.

There’s the rub! We are neither pure spirit nor pure intellect. I do not mean simply that we are fallen and that spiritually and intellectually we are marred, flawed, damaged by sin. That is true, but not the point here. God never intended us to be pure spirit, pure intellect. We are the most paradoxical of all God’s creations: spiritual animals. That is our burden and our blessing, our grief and our glory. It is our limitation and yet, if the scriptural truth of the resurrection is to be believed, it is also our magnificent destination. Our doctrinal statement is wrong when it says we believe in the immortality of the soul. We believe in the resurrection of the body, the raising to a wonderful new level of our total humanity.

The temple in Ephesus

And Lewis is right. We are not angelic beings, and there are, in Lewis’s splendid phrase, “heavens too big for us to see.” But he is also right that there are pleasures peculiar to us. We apprehend God’s grace in a unique manner—through our senses. Our “Maker shares with living men some secrets in privacy.” To propose a denominational orthodoxy that denies us the right to use any legitimate material means—particularly those modelled by Jesus and hallowed by centuries of use by his church—of apprehending our Creator-Redeemer through our senses, and to make the adherence to that denial the very test of orthodoxy, to the point of even forbidding legitimate discussion of the subject, is at best a sad error and at worst a form of denominational totalitarianism.

Longing for tangible expression to our faith, for the ministry of sacrament and symbol, whatever else it is, is not a sign of theological naivety. Nor does anyone I have ever met—inside or outside the Army—imagine that these things are necessary to salvation. Of course they are not. That’s a battle that belongs to an earlier age and a very different ecclesiastical culture. A longing for such generous use of the symbolic is rather an expression of that wonderfully productive tension that lives within us, that tension of the spiritual and physical dwelling together, a tension joyously expressed by my second poet, our good friend Gerard Kelly:

I love the very thought of heaven:
Where angels sing
In perfect, perpetual choir practice.
Where Father, Son and Spirit
Rule, unchallenged,
And are honoured in full measure.
I love the very thought of Heaven:
But I was not made
To live there.

I was not made
To walk on clouds,
And bask eternally
In immaterial splendour.
I was made for this green planet:
This tight ball
Of infinite beauty,
Alive with unending possibilities
Of His creative power.
I was made for the sunshine
That blazes through the veins of leaves,
And glints in the tiny, perfect back
Of a ladybird crossing my arm.
I was made to be human
In this most human place.
I was made for Earth:
The Earth is my home.

That’s why I’m glad
That God, more than anyone,
Is a Friend of the Earth.
That He was prepared
To die for its restoration,
And that’s why I’m glad
That the magnificent, jewelled foundations
Of the mighty Pearly Gates
Will be anchored
Deeply and for ever
In the soil of the Earth.

How I love those closing lines: the mighty pearly gates anchored deeply and for ever in the soil of the Earth. And it is my contention that, as human beings, our spirituality is always anchored in our humanity and will always need to be expressed with physical action and material objects. But that brings me to the last and greatest of the poets whose aid I seek: Gerard Manley Hopkins, Jesuit priest and genius poet. Hopkins has, I believe, a double insight that is relevant to our discussion. The first is his wonderfully imaginative grasp of God’s immanence, nowhere more powerfully expressed than in “God’s Grandeur”:

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge, and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastwards springs—
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

We are not deists; we do not believe in the Great Architect who designed the universe, or the Great Watchmaker who set it all in motion then stands back detached and distant. We believe in a God who sustains his creation by his word of power, a God who is not only transcendent in his greatness but also immanent in his creation. Despite the environmental abuse at which Hopkins hints and which is so much greater in our day than his, the Holy Ghost broods over the world, nature is never spent, and there lives the dearest freshness deep down things. There is a holiness about the world. We are constantly standing on holy ground, constantly being invited, if only we will look and listen, to take off our shoes and see the bush that burns but is not consumed.

The temple and surrounding hills: Ephesus

This is a truth Hopkins articulates elsewhere in his notes when he writes: “All things therefore are charged with love, are charged with God, and if we know how to touch them, give off sparks and take fire, yield drops and flow, ring and tell of him.” And it is a truth we all know and have experienced. I have seen those sparks, felt the drops, heard the ringing in a thousand different experiences and a thousand different places: in a lone voice plaintively singing “Amazing Grace”; in a herd of deer on a distant hillside as I walked the Findhorn valley; in the dedication of a baby wrapped in a Salvation Army flag as a witness to the central truths of the gospel; in the 1928 recording of “West End Blues” by Louis Armstrong’s Hot Five; in the delivery room when my wife gave birth to my daughters; in a cool, clean shower on a hot day after a long run; in Paul Scholes’ superb goal against Panathinaikos on a cold night at Old Trafford; and, yes, in the taste of bread and that red grape juice eaten and drunk to celebrate the Lord’s death until he comes.

The amphitheatre in Ephesus

And that brings me to my final question. If in this world—made holy by the presence of God and in which each created thing tells out the glory of its Creator and the grace of its Redeemer—if in this world we agree that these things can and do remind us of our God and Saviour, if we agree that physical actions and material objects can be helpful symbols, if we agree that the use of such symbols in alerting us to the wonder of the gospel renders them more than “mere symbols” and allows them to be conduits of God’s grace—if we accept all of that, why should we prohibit the use of those actions and elements which are hallowed by centuries of Christian practice and which many sincere and seeking souls believe have at least some warrant from the pages of scripture?

Amphitheatre in Ephesus

I wish my question were simply an academic one deserving only of the attention of a few souls like us who love to gather over supper and discuss issues of theology—but one which has little bearing on the life and mission of our part of the church. Alas, that is not the case. A failure to answer it, to allow open discussion and the honest statement of individual positions, and to make room for sensitive experimentation and exploration will come to haunt us in the years ahead. A willingness, on the other hand, to heed the insights of creative hearts and minds and to follow where God leads may be profoundly liberating to our souls and empowering to our mission.

Writer: Chick Yuill concluded 35 years service as a Salvation Army officer at the end of September 2006. He now devotes his time to speaking, writing and challenging the church to engage with the wider culture and community. He is the author of a number of books, the latest of which has just been published by Authentic under the title of ‘OTHERS: the insistent challenge to a reluctant church’. He also contributes regularly to national radio and television in the UK.

Chick loves jazz, good coffee and running - he recently completed his fifth London Marathon. But even more than these, he loves Margaret to whom he has been married for more than 38 years. Their shared ambition is to reach their sixtieth wedding anniversary and to celebrate it with their two daughters and all their loyal friends who mean so much to them.

The Supper Club is an eclectic group of thinking individuals who are either active Salvation Army members or with some connection and/or history with the movement. “Contemplative activists”, might be a good description of the group. The Supper Club meets in London, England on a monthly basis to present papers and discuss ideas over dinner. The papers presented at each meeting are subsequently posted on theRubicon. In addition, all longer, more academically focused submissions that we receive and approve for posting at theRubicon will be published as segments of The Supper Club.

Photographs of Ephesus, Turkey by Bramwell Ryan

Friday, May 4th, 2007 Belief, Ecclesia, Supper Club

28 Comments to Supper Club Series #4: Yuill

Another piece on the sacraments. I can’t believe I’m still reading this stuff… When will it be time to move on? There are bigger fish to fry.

Matt Kean on May 4th, 2007

Mr. Yuill, well done. I really enjoyed your essay and thank you for putting in the work it took to articulate your thoughts.

As for Matt’s comment; I’m doubting he read the opening paragraphs where Mr. Yuil established the need to discuss this topic, let alone the the whole piece. But I won’t move the discussion there and take away from this thoughtful essay.

Again, well done.

Dave on May 5th, 2007

So,who defines what are the big fish?

I guess I really think that after getting saved, people develop a relationship with God within the context of a relationship with the Body of Christ-church. In addition, to individul worship of the Lord, we also do this together. At times, it’s useful to discuss how to do this in a way that will be edifying. That will keep people saved and get them becoming evermore Christlike.

To me that’s a big fish.

Now, I do know that when Christians start to discuss how to worship corporately, it often gets really ugly. This is disheartening, but not necessarily a reason to forswear discussion.

Actually, I really appreciated Chuck Yuill’s piece. First, because of the embodiment approach to the whole issue. Second, because it was a departure from the main line. And I feel it’s important for people to be able to say openly what they think in a respectful, caring manner. Living in a post-Communist state, I can feel the fear grow in a room when people realize that their opinion, way of doing things, etc. differs from that of the person in charge. When love hasn’t driven out fear, we have a problem. And when people with power use that fear to their advantage (and I believe this can be totally unconscious), it is truly ugly.

So, what about those sacraments?

Let me start by saying that I’m a great believer in intentionality. Knowing why we do what we do and why we don’t do what we don’t do has a great deal to do with the quality of our engagement and abstinence.

Knowing why we don’t practice sacraments in The Salvation Army does not, in the slightest, require a dismissive attitude toward sacraments and the millions of Christians who have, do and will practice them for centuries.

If we cannot be confident of our ecclesial (sp) practices without being unloving toward our fellow brothers and sisters in Christ, we are probably lacking in love and in a firm understanding of why we do what we do and don’t do what we don’t.

In my experience, the issue of sacraments has been absolutely huge in Eastern Europe where the larger context is Eastern Orthodoxy (7 sacraments). It has also mattered in relationship with fellow Protestants (generally 2 sacraments here).

Whether people are joining the Army as their very first church or their latest one, they come from a context of expecting that sacraments will happen at some point. So quite simply, they need to know why it is that we don’t have Eucharist daily, weekly, quarterly, whatever. Why there is no weekly hour for Confession prior to the worship service. How to explain to their grandmother that their baby will not go to hell without water baptism, without making her feel like she is stupid, superstitious or not really in relationship with God.

They need to know for themselves. For their fellow Christians from other churches. For their family members who don’t know the difference between the Moonies and the Sally Anns and really DO care that their relative has not gotten caught up in a sect.

It matters in North America. When someone asks you if your child is being baptized, etc., and you say “no, dedicated” and they say “Oh, does the Army only do adult baptism” and you say “no, we don’t do sacraments”…You will have a curious person on your hands. Surely, that is reasonable when only we and the Quakers have chosen to not practice the sacraments as sacraments (though we seem to have equivalents).

I think there is a usefulness within the universal church for expressions of church that don’t practice the sacraments as such. Yet I cannot deny the incredible edifying power that their practice has had, does have and will have for Christians worldwide.

Loving each other as we struggle to find how to worship corporately is so vital. We are in our very early days, folks. The Army is a baby of the universal church, so we shall undoubtedly change. I hope that we can do it in ways that won’t make us hang our heads low before the Lord.

Maureen Diffley on May 5th, 2007

If the future of the church in the West is going to be largely, or even partly, incarnational and in fresh expressions of church, I don’t see how we can avoid having to continue debate on this in order to find a simpler solution than there being ‘one forbidden ritual’. (Or two if you include baptism.) I have already been in the position of trying to explain to a group of completely non church connected teens that yes, they/we can work together to find the way of worship that they are comfortable with and that is meaningful for them experientially.

But then at some point I have to explain we can do anything except one forbidden ritual, and understandably as you look at their faces you see them zoning out. In discussion on sacraments we may see a theological point; perhaps it’s interesting to us, or irritating, or compelling, or leads to profounder questions about grace. Maybe even having to hear this stuff again gets right up our tripes. But the people in front of us don’t want our baggage - they have their own issues and problems and the meaning of communion as far as I’ve listened to them isn’t on the list! They listen to our passion, subjects our lives to scrutiny looking for authenticity and searching out hypocrisy. We earn trust slowly by listening, and creating a safe space for that listening. If we earn their trust they share their pains and issues with us and engage in exploring alongside us daily what it means to be a follower of Jesus and a disciple.

A changing church in our context is surely unlikely to be characterised in the early stages by formal ‘ways of doing things’ and if the church remains missional, and therefore able to change and adapt, doesn’t it need as much freedom to do that as possible - ie by being light on how we do church while strong on discipleship and a community focussed on the challenge of missional endeavour together? Otherwise trying to plant among those who have never had any experience of Christian faith feels like running for a train while dragging heavy baggage behind you.

Lets just take the essentials with us into the army of the future - doesn’t that mean continuing to look for a simpler position rather than one that is yet more complex?

I rest my case. (groan….. :0) )

Eleanor Burne-Jones on May 6th, 2007

Excellent article from Chick, which highlights the fact that our previously non-practising stance on the Sacraments, seems to be rapidly shifting towards an anti-sacramental stance! This is not only a position that has never been held in TSA history, but is also dangerously divisive at a time of unprecedented church unity.

What saddens me most is that in a time when much of the church is seemingly searching for ways forward in the West, in some influential quarters TSA seems to be setting up camp and retreating firmly into the past, instead of listening to new views and making the changes that are necessary to reach a western society that is dramatically different to that of our birth.

If we are to abandon the sacramental symbolism totally, then surely we should also abandon the new symbols that have risen to replace the traditional sacraments. After all surely those symbols that have been tried and tested by hundreds of generations of Christians have a higher value than those practised by five or six generations at best!

I do believe that there is a certain level of prophetic ministry towards the church in our true traditional stance. This was best expressed by Geoff Ryan in his book Sowing Dragons. However, we are dangerously close to leaving this stance behind in the current climate.

Finally, I agree with Eleanor. As we encourage people to explore their relationship with Jesus through worship, how do we explain that there are two expressions of Christian worship that are increasingly totally off limits to those who choose to express themselves through The Salvation Army?

Graeme Smith on May 6th, 2007

“Let me start by saying that I’m a great believer in intentionality. Knowing why we do what we do and why we don’t do what we don’t do has a great deal to do with the quality of our engagement and abstinence.”

Excellent Marueen–and a wonderful point.

I appreciate Chick Yuill’s point of view greatly and I think a great portion of it is being missed. It’s less about the nature of the sacraments and more about the nature of humanity. Why limit such a beautiful and meaningful expression of our love for Jesus Christ? Why deny such a wonderful way of expiriencing a “communion” with God’s Spirit?

Indeed, there were valid reasons that caused the early Salvos to shy away from the sacraments early on. But can we really translate those reasons into foundational truths which make or break our Army?

Thank you much Chick, though I would also like to express that it seems to me that our ability to commune with God in our humanity and in this material world is perhaps the most impossibly mystical part of it all. What a wonderful and transecdent thing that God’s Spirit is ever “brooding” here among us and that and we can share in this.

Jonathan Taube on May 7th, 2007

If you want to know the real reason we don’t practice the sacraments, go to Godtube and watch “funny church moments”

Grant

Grant on May 7th, 2007

I’ve been reading and re-reading this article and desperately trying to imagine how anyone, who was willing to be thoughtful, open-minded and sensitive to the reasoning given here, could possibly find any argument with it??

It seems to me that the only real area of contention is in the definition of ’sacrament’ for the ‘devil is always in the detail’! I think that was why Karl Barth ultimately and controversially decided to dismiss the term ’sacrament’ and instead use the concept of ‘human actions’ or testimonies, because when we come to try and explain what we mean by ’sacrament’ and what precisely we mean by ‘a conduit of God’s grace’ we get into the difficult area of how much we can humanly command God’s repeated submission to allowing his grace to be mediated through the same ceremony or human action, leading to all the varied definitions that we have today, from Roman Catholic orthodoxy through to Calvin, Zwingli, Luther and ultimately Barth. I think Barth would want to ask whether we truly think that we can in Orsborne’s words be a sacrament (broken bread and outpoured wine) of the same order as Jesus was? Or was the human and divine, sacramental significance of Jesus something unique and unrepeatable? And if it was unrepeatable, in what sense then are our lives sacramental in comparism to the life of Jesus? Clearly Barth differs in his theology from say Eastern Orhtodox, which has a much stronger emphasis upon our own ‘divinization’, and therefore consequently a much stronger emphasis on the concept of ’sacrament’. Barth on the4 other hand only allows for one sacrament - Jesus - but is very happy to accept that even a dead dog could be ’sacramental’ in a lower order kind of way, if that somehow was used by God to communicate his grace!! But that is to say something very diferent from say an Eastern Orthodox defintion of what ’sacramental’ means.

Leaving all that discussion aside, I still would like to know, on Chick’s lines, how anyone could argue with any logical reasoning against the profound use of symbolism, other than out of an illogical allegiance to outdated tradition and an historical decision made in a different time and circumstances??

David on May 8th, 2007

David, my concern is that there are some who would move us to a non-symbolism stance. Indeed I’ve heard of an officer recently who queried the use of oil because it was too close to sacramentalism for there liking!

The strangest thing is that these voices, who take what is written on both sides of the sacrament discussion to the extreme and end up polarising the parties, seem not be be concerned about the deep symbolism that has grown up around the Army symbols!

Graeme Smith on May 8th, 2007

There is a difference between symbol and sacrament. I would argue that a symbol is a representation of a way in which grace is given. A sacrament is a means of grace in itself.

I understand Salvationist belief and practice in this area to mean that we believe that there is not one thing that is a means of grace more than anything else. That is why we are non-sacramental (or hyper-sacramental) as opposed to anti-sacramental.

Captain Andrew Clark on May 8th, 2007

Thank you, thank you, Chick, for this wonderful article. I was terribly discouraged when I read the paper referenced in your article. While the author maintains that he is line with previous Army positions on the topic, you rightly point out that he has taken things in a new direction. “Not necessary to salvation” becomes “called by God NOT to use sacraments.” I found that the article was ironically marked by a deep theological naivety, as comes to the fore in such statements as “Did God change his mind?” And this “mysticism” you warn against is of course not in the spirit of Salvationism, in that (again as you point out) it seems to introduce a false dichotomy between body and soul, whereas we aim to minister to the whole person.

Again, thank you. I am encouraged to see such a thoughtful response, and encouraged to know that other Salvationists are thinking along these lines.

James Pedlar on May 8th, 2007

Thank you for this article. I would respond as follows:
1.I wonder why the book of Leviticus is in the OT canon? Throughout Leviticus, teaching about forms and symbols of worship is interspersed with high, lofty moral teaching. Why? Could it be that forms of worship are somehow important for human beings in their worship of God. God, our Creator, knows us better than we know ourselves. Perhaps God knows that we need forms of worship and earthly symbols of spiritual realities. I would suggest the message of Leviticus might be a warning - that if the forms of worship are lost or eliminated or ignored, that there is a risk that the spiritual reality behind the forms may be lost too - every bit as big a risk as if the forms are practised without thought about the heart experience which is the reality. To eliminate earthly forms of worship or to practise them without thought, may very well be equally risky.

2. Worse still is to denigrade forms of worship which are meaningful to the rest of the church and to do so ism certainly not within TSA tradition of respectfulness. To suggest that no officer of TSA should experiment with crackers and grape juice in any way shape or form, is to denigrade forms of worship which mean much to other Christians.

3. Besides, we are only fooling ourselves in TSA if for one minute we think we are symbol and form free in our worship. The flag is a huge symbol. The mercy seat has been spoken of as a means of grace - not the wooden bench itself, but the transaction between God and man which takes place in that act of coming forward to this place of communion. Just like the traditional sacraments of baptism and communion, we in the Army have been guilty of abusing the mercy seat - sometimes whipping it up into the “cult of the mercy seat” in emotionally charged and engineered prayer meetings. Let’s not fool ourselves - we have but substituted other things for the traditional sacraments and symbols of the church.

4. Whatever the original reasons for not adopting these practices, we do not live in Victorian England, so let’s keep open to the possibility of instituting the two traditional sacraments in TSA in the present age. I regret every person we have lost over the years to other denominations because they have been true to their conviction about the importance of baptism and communion. Also SA leadership should not fool itself either - many Salvationists today are baptized and many partake of communion even if their particular Corps does not practice it. It is time leadership caught up with the realities in their own organization.

5. There are those who are convicted on both sides of the sacrament issue, so I have long advocated for sacramental services to be held at times other than our regular meeting times - before or after the regular service. This would accommodate people of both convictions.

6.I think the Spiritual Life Commission “chickened out” a few years ago. Let’s go further next time round and permit the two traditional Christian sacraments to be offered in our Corps where people so desire it, and so that no huge schism happens, let’s have separate services of worship for the sacraments. I was for five years or so in a non-traditional Corps which did this, and it worked out very harmoniously and resulted in no problems. Everyone was happy and satisfied.

The recent almost militant anti-sacrament attitude has indeed seemed to take things beyond the usual SA position. It lacks our usual respect toward other denominations.

Lorna Rogers Simard on May 8th, 2007

The Booths were influenced by, or justified there actions by, The Religiious Society of Friends (Quakers).But you are right in saying that the Army, in some cases, are becoming anti-sacramentalists. Friends do NOT claim that using sacraments are wrong but, rather, that ALL of life should be sacramental. This used to be held to by some Salvationists but seems to be less so these days.Here are some thoughts from various Friends about sacraments in general and communion in particular, all are taken from Britain Yearly meeting’s ‘Quaker Faith and Practice’:

‘To Fox and the early Friends the whole of life seemed sacramental, and they refused to mark off any one particular practice or observance as more sacred than others. They took the same stand with regard to Sunday, or First Day; it was not in itself more holy than Saturday or Monday; every week-day should be a Lord’s Day. Their whole attitude was gloriously positive, not negative. They were ‘alive unto God’ and sensed him everywhere.

We do not say that to observe the sacraments is wrong, but that such observance is not essential to wholehearted Christian discipleship and the full Christian experience. We do not judge our fellow Christians to whom the outward sacraments mean so much. Rather do we wish, by prayerful fellowship with them, to be led unitedly with them to a deeper understanding of what underlies those sacraments, and so to share a richer experience of the mind of Christ.

Gerald K Hibbert, 1941′

AND

‘The Quaker conviction is that the operation of the Spirit outruns all our expectations. We acknowledge that the grace of God is experienced by many through the outward rite of baptism, but no ritual, however carefully prepared for, can be guaranteed to lead to growth in the Spirit. A true spiritual experience must be accompanied by the visible transformation of the outward life. Our understanding of baptism is that it is not a single act of initiation but a continuing growth in the Holy Spirit and a commitment which must continually be renewed. It is this process which draws us into a fellowship with those who acknowledge the same power at work in their lives, those whom Christ is calling to be his body on earth.

London Yearly Meeting, 1986′

ALSO This one, particulalry the second sentence may have a message for today’s Salvationists?

‘We need to guard against under-valuing the material expressions of spiritual things. It is easy to make a form of our very rejection of forms. And in particular, we need to ask ourselves whether we are endeavouring to make all the daily happenings and doings of life which we call ’secular’ minister to the spiritual. It is a bold and colossal claim that we put forward - that the whole of life is sacramental, that there are innumerable ‘means of grace’ by which God is revealed and communicated - through nature and through human fellowship and through a thousand things that may become the ‘outward and visible sign’ of ‘an inward and spiritual grace’.

A Barratt Brown, 1932′

THEN AGAIN:

‘I personally believe that there is a quality in the bareness of Christian Quakerism, which may act as a bridge between the past and the future, allowing space for Friends to dare to search within… To be a Quaker is by no means to say goodbye to myth, ritual and symbol, but rather to find myself set free to discover them as the very essence of the way I now experience… Quakers are bridge people. I remain on that bridge, part of my roots reaching back into the Christian past and part stretching forward into the future where new symbols are being born.

Damaris Parker-Rhodes, 1985′

Just maybe these may bring some old light onto the subject?

Melvyn

Melvyn on May 9th, 2007

I very much appreciate the thoughtful response to my article. Thanks!

Chick Yuill on May 10th, 2007

I have read and re-read this article with great care, and whilst the reintroduction of the sacraments might expand or broaden our corporate and personal worship I cannot see how it would make us a more effective mission.

If our mandate is still to save the maximum number of people in the minimum amount of time how would such a change help?

Surely what we ought to do is just get back to preaching the gospel, pressing for decisions, supporting converts, helping people live holy lives.

The restoration of communion (in whatever form) might make Sunday more fun for believers but do very little for the lost.

Love and prayers

A

Andrew Bale on May 15th, 2007

I must admit that I find the discussion of sacraments in The Salvation Army vexed. I agree with General Shaw Clifton that a lot of what’s been said and done by salvationists has been naïve and poorly motivated. I also agree with Chick Yuill that the subject is important and deserves our attention.

One reason that seldom comes up is that it’s not only salvationists who are wondering what the sacraments are about. I’m no theologian but even my casual observation as an interested outsider tells me that very significant discussions are taking place in other parts of the Christian family and that it’s a good thing for us salvationists to be theologizing together with them. For ways that they intersect with Yuill’s comments, I think, for instance, of a book that’s being written by Marilyn Adams (now of Oxford, but formerly of UCLA where she was on my dissertation committee) about sacramental materiality; or of Susan Harvey’s Scenting Salvation (U Calif Press, 2006) that is reviewed in the May/June 07 issue of Books & Culture.

The thing that most concerns me about the substance of Yuill’s Supper Club paper is that it too often sounds as if sacraments begin from “our” side—that is, as if they are ways and means by which people can connect with God. For example, he says “to suggest that we can function spiritually, emotionally or relationally without the physical/material realm is to deny the very nature of our existence as human beings and to leave ourselves with only one route to God, that of an impossibly and impractially extreme mysticism.” Once again I risk betraying my theological ignorance, but I have thought that the heart of the sacraments is that they are means by which God graces human life—i.e., that the initiative is on God’s side.

Orsborn’s “My life must be” song is wonderful. I love it. But too often I’ve sung it meaning “I’ve got to live my life in service to others in God’s behalf” rather than “I need to be open to let God channel God’s grace to others through me.”

It’s not as if Yuill is deaf to this—towards the end of his paper he writes a fine paragraph about the world being “made holy by the presence of God”—it’s just that I think that admirably practical take-charge salvationists among whom I live could benefit from a reminder that effective worship is not a well-executed strategic plan.

A final note that relates to the context more than the explicit content of this paper. I confess that it troubles me that Chick Yuill has not once used Shaw Clifton’s name in this paper, referring only to an anonymous paper presented at the ITES in South Africa. The absence of a name troubles me because I sense that Chick hasn’t used Shaw’s name because he couldn’t. If so, might I suggest that the sacrament which we salvationists most need right now is the sacrament of reconciliation? I’m not being glib. May God see fit to so grace us.

Jim Read on May 25th, 2007

Houston we have a problem… I must point something out that I think most Salvationists miss. If you were enrolled as a soldier post 1988 have a look at the first paragraph of your Soldier’s Covenant.

Here it is for your reference…

“Having accepted Jesus Christ as my Saviour and Lord, and desiring to fulfil my membership of His Church on earth as a soldier of The Salvation Army, I now by God’s grace enter into a sacred covenant.”

There’s three components to this ceremony. 1. Testimony to salvation (past event) 2. Changing from automatic member of the Church to soldier of TSA (moment in time), and (most importantly) 3. Entering into a grace-based covenantal relationship between God, the Army and participant (ongoing, but commencing at this moment in time).

This “covenant,” and grace-based relationship with God, that all who would be soldiers are required to sign, requires the ceremony for it become effective. (read the last paragraph of the covenant to confirm this). That is, you cannot become a soldier without the ceremony. Or more specifically, you cannot receive the grace that is required for you to enter into soldiership (a grace-based relationship with God) without the ceremony.

If there is another way of becoming a soldier, I do not know it. And if soldiership is not a “grace-based covenantal relationship” then the wording of the covenant needs another revision.

The swearing-in ceremony is not mere memorial or pure symbolism. It is not just testimony to a past event. It is a “sacrament” of a new type (a SA type) where the grace of God is communicated through the enacting of the ceremony.

We are not non-sacramental, anti-sacramental. We are, what I call, “neo-sacramental.” We observe our own form of sacraments (although not direct correlations of the dominical sacraments) that enable participants to enter into grace-based covenantal relationships with God, the Army and each other.

Check out “Chosen to be a Soldier” Chap 8, Sect 2, Par 2, which (unbelievably) actually refers to marraige as a sacrament.

Consider as well the “covenants” of marriage and officership.

Any thoughts?

Adam Couchman on October 23rd, 2007

I appreciate a fellow Scot’s profound dissertation on the sacraments particularly communion practice. I have struggled with our non observation for many years and while I have not researched the matter theologically as Chic has done I am disturbed by some of the simple explanations for the Army’s stance. I really don’t go for statements such as William Booth did not want his converts to get too close to alcohol. Nether do the Quakers practice the sacraments. Although I have much appreciation for the Friends and their spokesperson such as Trueblood and Foster I do not con sider what another movement does or does not do. That is not my standard.

There is an interest in TSA for more meaningful use of symbols whether it is using them as a substitute
for what we are forbidden to have or a sincere move to have them adopted in our worship. For example, I note that the term ordination is widely used. When our recently appointed officers were welcomed in the Sunday morning service the installing officer representing the Divisional Commander who could not be present at every welcome meeting, laid hands on them. Also I have heard that retreat sessions often include symbolic acts known as the Emmaus Walk or dropping an item in the camp fire. Even the Love feast is only an imitation of the real thing. If the occasion warrants a spiritual celebration let us be guided by scripture. Although this may contradict my statement above, surely the majority of practices cannot be wrong.

Only once did I conduct communion in my corps. In the mid-week gathering at the corps in the mountains of British Columbia over three hundred miles from D.H.Q. twice as many soldiers and friends showed up. There was no sermon, only pertinent scripture. Osborn’s song was used as a challenged. There was one woman who did not participate but shook my hand as she left but I could not miss the tear stained eyes. Perhaps she was not up to the challenge to refuse because of the condition I laid out, not to take part if there was still a grudge against a fellow believer.

Following my resignation from officership (not on the subject of the sacraments or doctrine) I preached in several denominations. In some denominations it was only an ordained minster of that persuasion who could legally preside at the table. I understood that. In another place as interim celebrant I attended at the altar and always
considered it as the spiritual highlight of my ministry.

To day I quietly accept the tradition of the army that emphasizes the mercy seat not as a means of grace, but only as a subject for the real thing.

One more point. When I was stationed at a HQ appointment I was delegated to conduct worship at a local hospital chapel every month that Sunday fell on the beginning of the fifth week. I fulfilled the role for seven years. One Sunday Easter fell on the 5th. I was instructed by the D.C. to decline because he had been advised that Communion was customary on that day.

Thank you again Chick for your contribution. We may have “rubbed shoulders” at Glasgow division youth events or weekends at Mars Hill House at Alloa or even Bellshill corps. When I read of your departure from the ranks I was immediately assured that you would soon find a a divinely ordained ministry. Should you ever come to Ontario Canada I would like to meet up with you.

Ian Carmichael -

Ian Carmichael on October 27th, 2007

Adam. Having been enrolled as a soldier in 1946 I do not have a soldier’s covenant. Neither do I have an illuminated copy of the Articles of War. I was the sole candidate for soldiership in my corps so I was told to wait for public swearing in until there was a sufficient number of other recruits to stand under the flag. My family transferred to another corps two years later and there had been no further recruits.

Perhaps that is why I do not weep over the dear old flag or consider army ceremonies as a substitute for biblical forms. Up to the point of entering the corps auditorium for my wedding I had refused the use of the flag in the ceremony until the officiating officer stated he could not conduct the ceremony of an officer couple without the yellow red and blue. I did not want to embarrass my bride, her family (my family was in the U.K. and I was in Canada} nor the guests present so I sent a message to an officer guest to help me comply with the “order”.

It is contained in my last instructions file that the flag is not to be placed on my casket or to be placed anywhere else except in its place on the platform along side the national Flag of Canada. An open bible should be visible.

Ian Carmichael on October 28th, 2007

Ian…

Thanks for your response. I find the account of your wedding fascinating. It is interesting that, for an organisation that has frequently spoken out against the use of the symbolism of the sacraments, it still has the need to employ such deep symbolism of the flag, mercy seat, crest, uniform etc. Each of these having a theological significance of their own.

I compare what happened with the flag at your wedding to the prohibition on the presence of water at a dedication ceremony. Something that has always been a part of that ceremony.

Further, in a recent email conversation I had with Roger Green, he told me that the issue with alcohol being served to alcoholics (the commonly given reason amongst Salvationists) was never an issue! Water was sometimes used, and other alternatives were, in fact, available (contrary to popular belief). Yet this still seems to be the number one reason given as to why we stopped the use of the Lord’s Supper. I even heard it just this week from one of the soldiers in my corps. It’s certainly not an issue today (at least in Western countries).

Another interesting thing to consider is that when the dedication ceremony was first introduced babies were dedicated in uniform! If not in uniform then a red ribbon was tied to them, symbolising the desire of the parents to raise their child to be Officers and Soldiers in the Army. The uniform aspect was dropped fairly quickly (I assume because of the cost) but the red ribbon remained a part of the ceremony until the 1920s.

Given the high amount of symbolism in the Army can we truly say that we are “non-sacramental”? I don’t think so.

Interesting stuff!

Adam Couchman on October 30th, 2007

A mission-oriented heart precedes the practice of sacraments.

George Katchanov on November 2nd, 2007

Or, you could say that a true understanding of and appreciation for the sacraments properly orients the heart towards mission.

Phil Laeger on November 3rd, 2007

Adam

In your last posting you bring up some interesting observations about children’s dedication and the naive reasons early salvos gave for their actions. I once heard an officer remark that when he was a new born he was greeted with a kiss from William Booth therefore there was no further need for a ceremony at the corps.

Of course we are at heart sacramental. We have ordination of officers now that in the church is conferred for life. The last time I checked with the registrar of vital statistics of Ontario (Canada) my license to conduct weddings had been canceled. So if it is ordination please make it agree with the definition or forget about it. I suspect ordination in the army was introduced in the army to satisfy the authorities not to agree with biblical practice.

Ian Carmichael on November 4th, 2007

George and Phil…

Wesley would refer to the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper as a “converting ordinance.” By this understanding the sacrament, in and of itself, is missional.

Now don’t think I’m saying that you must participate in the sacrament to be saved. I’m not. Rather, Wesley saw that some (the particular) were saved through participation in the sacrament, not necessarily “all” though (the universal).

Ian…

The best treatment on the issue of Officer ordination is Harold Hill’s latest book “Leadership in the Salvation Army.” I commend it to you.

Adam Couchman on November 21st, 2007

I have just come across Chick’s wonderful article. I admit that this subject has always troubled me - I remember the day I found out the Army did not practice the sacraments, I turned to my wife (a life-long Salvationist) and said to her: “But I thought you told me the Army was a church!”

This was 30 years ago - I have never backed down from my opinion that the Army is simply wrong on this point.

Patrick Lublink on November 29th, 2008

I have just come across Chick’s wonderful article. I admit that this subject has always troubled me - I remember the day I found out the Army did not practice the sacraments, I turned to my wife (a life-long Salvationist) and said to her: “But I thought you told me the Army was a church!”

This was 30 years ago - I have never backed down from my opinion that the Army is simply wrong on this point.

Patrick Lublink on November 29th, 2008

This entire thread contains compelling discussion on an issue that affords no clean decision as to what “must” be done. Patrick in the last entry I read here includes what I believe is the nature of this discussion’s primary content–he renders his “opinion.”

I enjoy the debate, but distrust the “rightness” of any single contention. Perhaps the Army will one day embrace the practices of baptism and/or communion. Surely such will not occur because someone has proven it to be a “right” practice. We will simply agree at the necessary levels of church government that this is our chosen course of action.

And if TSA never bends to such practices but holds to its current line of not hosting those two “human actions,” that likewise will not be a “right” or vindicatable choice. The Army will simply follow the convictions of its leaders’ hearts. Some may balk at this and depart unto other churches. I only hope they do not imagine that they are “right” in so doing.