Kill George Herbert? (eCrozier #150)

This week I reread Justin Lewis-Anthony’s provocative book: If You Meet George Herbert on the Road, Kill Him, and I remembered why I was delighted the first time I read it. The book is Lewis-Anthony’s argument for why we need to radically rethink the priestly ministry in our 21st Century, post-Christian culture. George Herbert, as you may know, was a 17th Century Anglican Divine, a writer of well known and much loved poetry, and the author of A Priest to the Temple (or The Country Parson), which offered practical advice to clergy. It is from this advice, and from the legend that grew around Herbert, that Lewis-Anthony proposes such Herbertcidal action. Isaak Walton, his first biographer, engaged in great hagiography making Herbert out to be the ideal for all parish priests who would follow.

Somewhat like the fictional Father Tim in Jan Karon’s Mitford books, Herbert has become this ideal to the distress of Lewis-Anthony and to most of the parish clergy I know. Of course, the truth of Herbert’s life is overshadowed by the legend. He was an academic who never quite reached his promise, a member of parliament who could not handle life as a politician, and a parish priest for less than three years (thus unqualified to give advice) before his death of “consumption” just short of his 40th birthday. But, oh my, his poetry! It is masterful. But a masterful poet does not a good parish priest make.

And that is Lewis-Anthony’s central point. Of course, Lewis-Anthony does not want to really kill George Herbert. No need to since he is long dead. What Lewis-Anthony is most concerned about is what he calls Herbertism: the belief that parish priests should be at the church at all times, ready to benignly bless whatever needs blessing and to affirm all things of the church and community. He or she must go from a funeral to a Friday night football game, from a Rotary Club meeting to a confirmation class, and from the bedside of a dying parishioner to the local school play. And he or she is expected to be in all those places all the time. As Lewis-Anthony writes, the parish priest is to be “omni-present, omni-competent, and omni-affirming.” This is Herbertism.

But even if such a life were possible (and we know it killed poor George in less than three years), we have to ask: Is that the vocation God expects and the Church needs of its priests in the present age? Lewis-Anthony does not think so. He suggests five alliterative alternatives to Herbertism: 1) Rule – have a Rule of Life that reminds you who you are and how you will live; 2) Role – know what you are for in the world; 3) Responsibility – discern what your context is, how you oversee it, and lead in it; 4) Reckoning – be savvy enough to make decisions that are collaborative; and, 5) Reconciling – learn the skill of effective conflict management. Herbertism deals with conflict by pretending there is not any (read chapter 18 in A Priest to the Temple).

I commend Lewis-Anthony’s 5 R’s, but I would add that the parish priest is principally the keeper and teller of the Christian story, reminding people of their baptismal identity and purpose in this world and forming them so they are the ones who are present, competent, and affirming of God’s truth in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.

+Scott

 

The iPhone, Gollum, and our Baptismal Identity (eCrozier #147)

It is hard not to know, if you are connected to any media, that the new iPhone 5 is being released this month.  Grown adults are absolutely giddy, channeling their inner five year-old forced to sit on the top step of the staircase until their parents said they could come down to open presents on Christmas morning. Apples’ press release for the iPhone 5 refers to it as “beautiful” and “jewel-like.” Who wouldn’t want something so precious? That reminds me of a dear friend of mine who, upon getting his first iPhone years ago, referred to it as “my precious.” He was doing his own channeling, that of Tolkien’s Gollum in The Lord of the Rings, who was obsessed with The Ring.

Full disclosure here: I am writing this on a MacBook, although I am somewhat shaken by the fact that when I write “iPhone” on this page, the spellcheck on my MacBook does not recognize it as a word and suggests “siphoned” instead. It does not recognize MacBook either. It suggests “matchbook” as a better choice. Freud would have field day with both of those. So it goes. Don’t get me wrong. I like Apple products. They work well and last long, at least from my experience.

The comedian Andy Borowitz, who writes regular faux news stories for The New Yorker magazine came out recently with the following news headline: “Apple rocked the gadget world today with the news that the iPhone 5 includes a new feature that gives shape and purpose to previously empty and meaningless lives.” The reason that is funny, indeed the reason most things are funny, is that it has some truth about human beings in it. My friend, who referred to his first iPhone as “my precious,” was poking fun at himself (and by extension, others) who were developing growing, Gollum-like obsessions with it.

Apple’s marketing of the iPhone (and its other products) is clever and remarkably astute in its awareness of human behavior and psychology. Their claim is that their products are not just good, handy, and helpful, but that they will truly change your life. Wow! Apple bypasses traditional marketing that sells people on what a product is and how it works. Apple goes for the whole enchilada. They address people at their core identity claiming, as Borowitz jokes, that their iPhones provide meaning and purpose to people beyond mere functionality.

Technology, we know, is amoral. It can be used for good or for ill. But one thing technology can never do, Apple should know, is provide human beings with meaning, purpose, and identity that then infuses them with a clear destiny for their lives. Our baptismal rite frames for the candidates the truth that their sin is forgiven and that they have been “raised to the new life of grace.” Then the Holy Spirit’s sustenance is invoked: “Give them an inquiring and discerning heart, the courage to will and to persevere, a spirit to know and to love you, and the gift of joy and wonder in all your works.” The rite concludes with: “We receive you into the household of God. Confess the faith of Christ crucified, proclaim his resurrection, and share with us in his eternal priesthood.” That is identity, purpose, and destiny. Sorry, no iPhone, or other gadget, regardless of its promises can give us that. Only God can.

+Scott

 

The comedian Louis C.K. performs a hilarious bit about flying first class now that he’s become a successful entertainer. In the bit, he tells how when he’s sitting in first class and sees military personnel walking back to coach class, he considers getting up from his seat and saying to them: “Look, you’ve been willing to serve and maybe die in your service, the least I could do is trade seats with you so you can fly first class.” Of course, he never actually does this and probably never will, but he nevertheless believes he’s a better person, maybe even better than most people, for simply contemplating doing such a good deed. Louis C.K. is so funny because his comedy captures the spirit of our contemporary culture, sometimes devastatingly so. In our culture, you really do not have to act on your beliefs or convictions. It’s sufficient enough just to have them.

A few years ago I asked an adult Sunday School class: “What are the expectations of a faithful Muslim?” A number of people immediately responded: “pray five times a day.” Another quickly added: “Fast during the daylight hours of Ramadan.” Still another said: “If possible, make a pilgrimage to Mecca in your lifetime.” I then asked: “What are the expectations of a faithful Christian in our Anglican tradition?” There was some awkward silence before one person offered: “Go to church on Sunday and try to live a good life.” I saw a lot of nodding heads. Everyone seemed satisfied with that answer, but I said that in our Anglican tradition there were more behavioral expectations than that. I then spoke about weekly participation in the Eucharist, daily prayer using some form of the Daily Office, and the regular practice of service and justice in the world. And that was just for starters. I asked them to review the Baptismal Covenant in the Prayer Book. I said our Anglican Tradition had a Benedictine quality to its spiritual practice where we seek a balance of work, rest, and play; that we’re strongly incarnational in living our faith, finding God particularly in the people, things, and circumstances of our lives.

The general response was that this was all well and good, but none of these should be considered “requirements” or even “expectations.” One man even said that it wouldn’t be very hospitable to newcomers if we laid expectations on them. “It might turn them off. They wouldn’t feel welcome. Besides, we’re saved by faith, not works.” Yes, that’s true. But faith, at least as I’ve always understood it, is more than going to church weekly and trying to be a good person. Faith is the joining together of belief and action so that it changes and shapes the way we live our faith in the world.

Like with Louis C.K.’s comedy bit, it’s not enough for us to just think good thoughts about God, or really intend with all our hearts to help, for example, with building a Habitat house, or to contemplate seriously sharing our faith in Jesus with our neighbor. It matters that we do these things rather than to congratulate ourselves for merely desiring to do them someday. Is it any wonder that many people, particularly young adults, are turned off by what they perceive as the hypocrisy of the Church? As one young adult said to me recently: “I want to follow Jesus. I’m just not too sure I want to hang out with members of his fan club.” Such perceptions will only change when others see in us a congruency of belief and action.

+Scott

 

Much has been written about Steve Jobs, founder of Apple, after he recently passed away. I have not read Walter Issacson’s biography of Jobs, but I have heard him interviewed and the picture he paints of Jobs and the company he led for many years is fascinating, and I might add, it offers some wisdom for us in the Church.

Lots of other companies have been in the market place for decades making computers, smart phones, and other personal electronic devices to store and play music, lectures, radio programs, etc. Apple, however, has exceeded their competitor’s success. I have heard many people offer reasons why Apple has been so successful. I have heard things like: “The I-Phone, I-Pad, and Macbook are cool, intuitive, and user-friendly” (full disclosure: I have a MacBook and I-Pad). Still, there are other competitive, very good choices out there for people’s use, so that does not explain the phenomenal success of Apple. To be sure, Apple would not have had its success if its products had not been cool, intuitive, and user-friendly, but that alone does not explain its success.

I think Apple and Jobs touched something far deeper in people. Whether we are selling a product or making a case for something, we tend focus first on the “what,” that is, what we are selling or making the case for. Then, we move on to the “how.” How will this product I am selling or claim I am making be of use to you. And then, eventually, we get around to the “why.” Why is it so important to you to have this product I am selling or accept the claim I am making. So, for example, the pattern usually goes: This is a widget (what), it allows you to clean your pet’s teeth (how), and it will make you and your pet more content and better off (why).

What Apple did was begin with the “why,” which is an identity, purpose, and destiny question. “What” and “how” are questions that focus on content and methodology. Now content and methodology are important, but those questions do not address people at their core, which is a “why” question. When Apple and Jobs rolled out the I-Pad, the world was not demanding it. As I recall, there were many jokes about it when it was first introduced. But Apple basically said: “Here is the I-Pad and it will change your life. You need one of these.” The secondary questions were what it did and how it worked. The marketing was about the person’s identity, purpose, and destiny in the world.

That is what we claim in baptism about following Jesus as Lord & Savior. It’s a question of identity, purpose, and destiny in the world. It is a “why” question. I think we make a huge mistake in making our claim to the world about the truth of God in Jesus when we focus first on the “what” and then on the “how,” that is, what you need to do to become a Christian and then how you go about doing that. People at their core identity want to answer the “why” question first (which is why Apple has succeeded). Why should I be Christian? If our only answer is: “doing so will save you from Hell,” then we will fail miserably.” The answer must be from the via positiva: “We follow Jesus as Savior & Lord because it is the way God has given us to share eternally in the life of God.” Then and only then, can we work on being cool, intuitive, and user-friendly.

+Scott