I sure hope I'll be "left behind"

In Sunday School today, we talked about conceptions and misconceptions relating to the eschatology, that is the study of things related to the end. Btw, next week we'll look at apocalyptic texts and the week after, we'll look at the "four last things": death, judgment, heaven, and hell.

One topic we touched on today was the popular teaching about the rapture of the church (that was under the category of misconception, of course). The rapture teaching goes back to the mid 1800s, popularized by John Nelson Darby at various bible prophecy conferences and then by dispensationalism as represented in the Scofield Reference Bible.

The idea of the rapture of the church is that sometime before the Second Advent of Jesus, the Lord comes secretly to remove the church from the earth--the last resistance to evil in the world. It's what we described in class as "Advent 1.5"--Jesus passes by just close enough to pick up his friends before things get really bad. Unfortunately, the teaching dogmatizes escapism and sometimes ends up producing a strange perspective on the world, as seen on wesites like raptureready.com.

Of course, scripture reference are used to support this teaching, but as we studied today, each passage has to be used very selectively in order to fit, sometimes even requiring new doctrines to make it fit (e.g., a new secret resurrection of raptured believers before the general resurrection). Two passages commonly used in support of the rapture (apart from other "last day", second coming, and general resurrection passages) are 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 and Matthew 24:37-41.

The letter to the Thessalonians was perhaps the earliest written part of the New Testament. The believers at Thessalonica expected the Lord's return soon, but some in their church had died and they were concerned that those departed brethren might miss out on this great event. Paul writes to them and says don't worry; they won't miss a thing. At first glance, it sounds like a description of the rapture (indeed, this passage is where the word "rapture" comes from in the Latin translation). Verse 17: "We who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them [i.e., the resurrected dead] in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord."

But there are problems. As mentioned before, to make the rapture fit, we now need a secret resurrection of departed believers, separated in time, before the general resurrection takes place. In the rapture view, life continues as it was on earth, but with all the Christians missing (at least the true believers). Also, the event described in this passage is not so secret; it is heralded with trumpet blasts and shouts of praise. Verse 16: "For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God."

This is of course, an exact description of the traditional view of the Second Coming of Jesus--in power and glory, public and heralded for all the world to see and hear, instantaneous, momentous, and unmistakable. There is no secret advent envisioned in this passage. Along with the Second Coming of Christ, the dead are raised to stand for judgment. The believers rise "first" to go out and meet the Lord, to welcome him as he arrives with the saints and angels. This is the cultural way of greeting an arriving dignitary in biblical times.

It was for this reason that the Matthean Palm Sunday passage used to be read on the first Sunday in Advent. The version in John's gospel shows that practice best: "The next day the large crowd that had come to the feast heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem. So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, crying out, 'Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, even the King of Israel!'" (John 12:12-13).

In Matthew 24:37-41, Jesus gives a description of the end times. Jesus tells the disciples that no one can know the time of the end, but you can heed the warning signs. This has the familiar quote in verse 40-41: "Then two men will be in the field; one will be taken and one left. Two women will be grinding at the mill; one will be taken and one left." At first glance, it sounds like a description of the rapture. Indeed, this is the source for the title of the Left Behind series of novels (and movies and games, etc.).

However, context is everything. The context is that Jesus is describing the last day--the final judgment or "Day of the Lord." And he describes it by the analogy of a previous divine judgment--the great deluge of Noah's time. Verse 27-39: "As were the days of Noah, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day when Noah entered the ark, and they were unaware until the flood came and swept them all away, so will be the coming of the Son of Man." The flood swept away the sinners. The coming of the Son of Man will be like that--the cleansing of the earth by the sweeping away of [unrepentant] sinners at the divine judgment.

In context, the sinners are "swept away" and the righteous are "left behind." Which is to say again, context is everything. Do not let apocalyptic hysteria distort your perspective on the world. More importantly, do not let it distort your faith. Do not build a whole theological structure on a few scattered half-verses. That is as shaky as a house of cards. Read passages in the context of the times they were written; read whole chapters and books together; read selections in context with the whole teaching of Scripture, understood through the apostolic tradition preserved faithfully in the Church.

Make no mistake, you want to be left behind!

View the above cartoon and others by John Rule at the Hal Lindsey Oracle Cartoons website.

Hometown church architecture

Here are pictures from two churches in my hometown, whose architecture I have appreciated over the years. The first is the St. Mark's Cathedral--mother church of the Diocese of Western Louisiana. It is build in the gothic revival style and seats about 800. The second is the First Baptist Church of Shreveport--a building in the couthern colonial style, seating about 2,000. Both were constructed in the 1960s.

A sign of the apocalypse?

Is frozen water falling from the heavens a sign of the apocalypse? Join me for a special short course in Sunday School on the apocalypse and various Advent themes on the Sundays of December at St. Alban's.

The A W Pugin chasuble

Below are pictures of my recently completed gothic revival gold chasuble, the design inspired by the work of ecclesiastical architect A. W. Pugin. I haven't finished the accompanying pieces, but so far I'm quite happy with the results. Pugin pushed the employment of color in his churches. I think the interplay of red, blue and gold here is very effective.

The sweet victory in Jesus

Over Thanksgiving break, Melisa and I watched the film The Gospel, and quite enjoyed it. It is a modern day retelling of the biblical parable of the prodigal son (with great music, of course).

The main song in the movie is "Victory," sung by Yolanda Adams. The clip above is from a performance of the song on an awards show. I liked this version because there is more improvisation. My favorite part is when she just keeps singing, "I love Him! I love Him!"

I've been doing some sewing

In my days off this week, I've been doing some sewing. I have several pieces of fabric that have been sitting in the closet for 5 or 6 years, waiting for me to get around to turning them into vestment sets (see purple and gold). I've completed one set over the break--the rose vestments pictured above. The fabric is rose and silver, with satin rose lining, rose velvet orphreys, and silver and black galloon. The pattern is new; it is my own creation mixing Gothic and Roman features.

Have a Great Thanksgiving

Almighty and gracious Father, we give thee thanks for the fruits of the earth in their season and for the labors of those who harvest them. Make us, we pray, faithful stewards of thy great bounty, for the provision of our necessities and the relief of all who are in need, to the glory of thy Name; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

For those who are really serious

Serious about moisture . . . serious about flavor . . . serious about stuffing their bird without having to touch it.

My idea of heaven

I have really enjoyed this wonderful song from Leigh Nash. It is certainly how I feel, and I know I'm not the only one. I first saw it at the AmericanPapist, who keeps a wonderful blog on church life and culture. It is well worth a visit.

First communion class pictures

On Sunday, our first communion class gathered with their parents before the Mass in which they would receive their first communions. The teachers showed what they had covered in class and the students posed for pictures with our Rector, Fr. Kresowaty.

Pictures from Diocesan Convention

The convention hall at the Church of Ss Peter and Paul, Arlington.


The delegation from St Alban's, Arlington.


Plus me.


And the old fogeys at the table next to us.


The bishop began with a thoughtful and moving address.


One of my ballots (no peeking).


CBS 11 News interviewing our Canon to the Ordinary at lunch.


Our Canterbury chaplain for the University of Texas at Arlington, Mr. Brian Pickard, addresses the convention in the afternoon session.

The atonement is for suckers

More deep insight from Elizabeth Kaeton? You decide. If anything, the book is interesting.

I've been using this book, Proverbs of Ashes: Violence, Redemptive Suffering and The Search for What Saves Us, by Rita Nakashima Brock and Rebecca Parker, in one of the courses I teach at The Theological School at Drew University.

I highly recommend it.

It is precisely what it says it is, discussing redemption and salvation through the lens of domestic violence and child abuse, and taking direct aim at the Doctrine of the Atonement and the idea of 'Suffering Servant' as part of the problem of violence against women and children.

Read the whole thing here.

Colossians 1:21-22
And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him.

1 Corinthians 1:23
We preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles.

The Mountain of God

In the ceremony of the Christian eucharistic liturgy, there is an intentional creation of an atmosphere of worship. On the morning of the resurrection (Sunday--the "third day"), the liturgy begins with a purification and vesting of the ministers, who then march into the sanctuary on behalf of the people who remain outside the sanctuary, with organ pipes trumpeting. They ascend the steps of the altar--a mountain which serves as the meeting-place with God. This mountain is then covered in smoke as the celebrant censes the altar. It is at this point in the Anglican rite that the celebrant turns to the people and rehearses the Ten Commandments (or at least the Summary of the Law). Sounds very biblical, doesn't it?

Exodus 19:10--20:3
The LORD said to Moses, "Go to the people and consecrate them today and tomorrow, and let them wash their garments and be ready for the third day. For on the third day the LORD will come down on Mount Sinai in the sight of all the people. And you shall set limits for the people all around, saying, 'Take care not to go up into the mountain or touch the edge of it. Whoever touches the mountain shall be put to death. No hand shall touch him, but he shall be stoned or shot; whether beast or man, he shall not live.' When the trumpet sounds a long blast, they shall come up to the mountain."

So Moses went down from the mountain to the people and consecrated the people; and they washed their garments. And he said to the people, "Be ready for the third day; do not go near a woman." On the morning of the third day there were thunders and lightnings and a thick cloud on the mountain and a very loud trumpet blast, so that all the people in the camp trembled.

Then Moses brought the people out of the camp to meet God, and they took their stand at the foot of the mountain. Now Mount Sinai was wrapped in smoke because the LORD had descended on it in fire. The smoke of it went up like the smoke of a kiln, and the whole mountain trembled greatly. And as the sound of the trumpet grew louder and louder, Moses spoke, and God answered him in thunder. The LORD came down on Mount Sinai, to the top of the mountain. And the LORD called Moses to the top of the mountain, and Moses went up.

And the LORD said to Moses, "Go down and warn the people, lest they break through to the LORD to look and many of them perish. Also let the priests who come near to the LORD consecrate themselves, lest the LORD break out against them." And Moses said to the LORD, "The people cannot come up to Mount Sinai, for you yourself warned us, saying, 'Set limits around the mountain and consecrate it.'" And the LORD said to him, "Go down, and come up bringing Aaron with you. But do not let the priests and the people break through to come up to the LORD, lest he break out against them." So Moses went down to the people and told them.

And God spoke all these words, saying, "I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery. You shall have no other gods before me. . . "

Chesterton on original sin

After finishing C. B. Moss' fantastic book The Old Catholic Movement: It's Origins and History, I have picked up G. K. Chesterton's Orthodoxy. I've already come across several gold nuggets--so far none as good as his ever-relevant comments in the second chapter on sin and our tendency to ignore it. It is relevant in today's Episcopal Church which often lauds the sacrament of baptism, but denies the need for it at the same time (as evidenced in the new and illegal fad of giving Holy Communion to the unbaptized).

Modern masters of science are much impressed with the need of beginning all inquiry with a fact. The ancient masters of religion were quite equally impressed with that necessity. They began with the fact of sin—a fact as practical as potatoes. Whether or no man could be washed in miraculous waters, there was no doubt at any rate that he wanted washing. But certain religious leaders in London, not mere materialists, have begun in our day not to deny the highly disputable water, but to deny the indisputable dirt.

Certain new theologians dispute original sin, which is the only part of Christian theology which can really be proved. Some followers of the Reverend R. J. Campbell [a "modernizer" in religion during Chesterton's time--ed.], in their almost too fastidious spirituality, admit divine sinlessness, which they cannot see even in their dreams. But they essentially deny human sin, which they can see in the street.

The strongest saints and and strongest sceptics alike took positive evil as the starting-point of their argument. If it be true (as it certainly is) that a man can feel ex­quisite happiness in skinning a cat, then the religious philosopher can only draw one of two deductions. He must either deny the exis­tence of God, as all atheists do; or he must deny the present union between God and man, as all Christians do. The new theologians seem to think it a highly rationalistic solution to deny the cat.

What is "the mystery of faith"?

Someone accustomed to the English liturgy of the Catholic, Episcopal, and Lutheran churches (among others) might instantly chime back, "Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again." But there is more to it than that. In Eucharistic Prayer A of Rite Two in the Episcopal Church, this is the "mystery of faith" which the congregation is called to proclaim. In the New Roman Missal, it is a little more ambiguous. In the Roman Canon of the classical Western liturgy, it is something else.

A "mystery of faith" is a profound truth which is difficult to grasp. It is better appreciated than understood, yet neither appreciation nor understanding of a mystery of faith can be exausted. St Paul often described salvation and the gospel as a mystery (see Romans 16:25 and Ephesians 1:9). "Mystery" is the origin of the term "sacrament" (see Ephesians 5:32). Also, in 1 Timothy 3:9, the deacons of the Church are required to "hold the mystery of the faith with a clear conscience."

Until the new Missal of Paul VI was issued in 1969, the Eucharistic Prayer of the Roman Rite read at the consecration of the cup, "Take and drink of this, all of you. This is the Chalice of my Blood, of the new and eternal covenant--the mystery of faith-- which will be shed for you and for many for the remission of sins. As often as you shall do these actions, you will do them in memory of me." The "mystery of faith" was intimately connected with the consecration of the precious Blood, though it could also be an adjectival phrase describing the New Covenant.

In his 1965 encyclical Mysterium Fidei, Pope Paul VI wrote: "First of all, we wish to recall something which is well known to you . . . that the Eucharist is a very great mystery. In fact, properly speaking, and to use the words of the sacred liturgy, it is the Mystery of Faith. 'Indeed, in it alone,' as Leo XIII, our predecessor of happy memory very wisely remarked, 'are contained, in a remarkable richness and variety of miracles, all supernatural realities.' We must therefore approach especially this mystery with humble respect, not following human arguments, which ought to be silent, but adhering firmly to divine revelation."

The mysterium fidei did not continue into the Book of Common Prayer tradition (until the recent Prayer A reintroduced it, following the new Roman Missal) probably because it was not a part of the biblical text. A pious tradition claims that St Peter is the author of the whole Roman Canon including the insertion of this phrase within the words of consecration. Some have advanced the hypothesis that the phrase was originally a notification by the deacon to the people that the consecration was completed, but there is no historical data to support this conclusion. So why is it there? And what does it mean?

Liturgical scholar Josef Jungmann, SJ had this to say about the Mysterium Fidei in Volume II of his work The Mass of the Roman Rite:

The most striking phenomenon in the Roman text is the augmentation of the words of consecration said over the chalice. The mention of the New Testament is turned into an acknowledgment of its everlasting duration: novi et ceterni testamenti. And then, in the middle of the sacred text, stand the enigmatic words so frequently discussed: mystertum fidei. Unfortunately the popular explanation (that the words were originally spoken by the deacon to reveal to the congregation what had been per­formed at the altar, which was screened from view by curtains) is poetry, not history. (Note: The explanation advanced by K. J. Merk, according to which the words are intended to exclude the epiklesis and accentuate the fact that the consecration was already completed by the preceding words, is without foundation. The explanation given by T. Schermann is no better; according to this the mysterium fidei originally belonged only to the Mass of Baptism, inserted to call the attention of the newly baptized to an action that was entirely strange to them.)

The phrase is found inserted in the earliest texts of the sacramentaries, and mentioned even in the seventh century. (Note: As the Expositio of the Gallican Mass shows, it was already contained in the 7th century chalice for­mula, which was taken over from the Ro­man into the Gallican liturgy. Such a gen­eral diffusion can be explained only by postulating a Roman origin.) It is missing only in some later sources. (E.g., in the Milanese Sacramentary of Biasca (9-10th century.)

Regarding the meaning of the words mysterium fidei, there is absolutely no agreement. A distant parallel is to be found in the Apostolic Constitu­tions, where our Lord is made to say at the consecration of the bread: "This is the mystery of the New Testament, take of it, eat, it is My Body." Just as here the mysterium is referred to the bread in the form of a predicate, so in the canon of our Mass it is referred to the chalice in the form of an apposition.

It has been proposed K that the words be taken as relating more closely to what precedes, so that in our text we should read: novi (et aeterni) testamenti mysterium (fidei). But such a rendering can hardly be upheld, particularly because of the word fidei that follows, but also because the whole phrase dependent on the word mysterium would then become a man-made insertion into the consecrating words of our Lord. (Note: Despite all studies of philological possibilities, it still remains difficult to con­ceive the genitive novi et aterni testamenti as dependent upon the mysterium immedi­ately following, which is already associ­ated with a genitive [fidei]; whereas Paul-Luke combine the words sanguis [meus novi] testamenti into a unit, at least as to sense, and Matthew-Mark do so even in form. Nevertheless the idea gains some support from the curious fact that it is precisely this group of words that is miss­ing in the Sacramentarium Rossianum.)

Mysterium fidei is an independent expansion, superadded to the whole self-sufficient complex that precedes. (Note: The intrusion of such an addition into the very core of the words of consecration could be more easily explained, if, like the aeterni [testamenti] they were of Scriptural origin. The expression is in fact found in I Tim. 3: 9, where the deacons are admonished to preserve the mystery of faith in a pure conscience: habentes mysterium fidei in conscientia pura. Of course, some­thing quite different is here meant, namely, the Christian teaching, and thus it becomes quite difficult to understand how the phrase was seized upon in this connection. Brinktrine tries to establish points of contact; the passage at times was under­stood in a Eucharistic sense, and the nam­ing of the deacons, to whom the chalice pertained, could have led to this chalice for­mula. Florus Diaconus had already drawn I Tim. 3:9 into the exposition of this passage.)

What is meant by the words mysterium fidei? Christian antiquity would not have referred them so much to the obscurity of what is here hidden from the senses, but accessible (in part) only to (subjective) faith. Rather it would have taken them as a reference to the grace-laden sacramentum in which the entire (objective) faith, the whole divine order of salvation is comprised. (Note: That the identification of mysterium and sacramentum is justified for the time that comes under consideration is clear from the fact that the series of catechetical instructions handling this matter is called in one case by Ambrose De mysteriis and then again De sacramentis. Opinions will differ, however, with regard to a narrower limitation of the idea mysterium. O. Casel, who in agrees with Hamm, prefers in to take the "mystery of the faith" as the new mysterium in opposition to the mysterium of the Gnosis. But it is still questionable whether the Gnosis is to be taken into account for this interpolation.) The chalice of the New Testament is the life-giving symbol of truth, the sanctuary of our belief. (Note: The natural Englishing, "mystery of [the' faith," unfortunately suggests only the intellectual side and so seems to interrupt the train of thought.)

How or when or why this insertion was made, or what external event occasioned it, cannot readily be ascertained. (Note: Th. Michels refers to Leo the Great; the pope points out that at that time the Manicheans here and there partook of the body of Our Lord, but shunned "to drink the blood of our Redemption." He supposes that in opposition to them Leo wanted to accentuate the chalice by adding the words mysterium fidei.)

The sacred account concludes with the command to repeat what Christ had done. The text is taken basically from St. Paul; however, the entire Roman tradition, from Hippolytus on, has substituted for the Pauline phrase "whenever you drink it," the phrase "whenever you do this." In some form or other our Lord's injunction is mentioned in almost all the liturgical formularies." Where it is missing, it is presupposed. It is in the very nature of the Christian liturgy of the Mass that the account of the institution of the Blessed Sacrament should not be recited as a merely historical record, as are other portions of the Gospels. Indeed, the words of the account are spoken over the bread and a chalice, and, in accord with our Lord's word, are uttered precisely in order to repeat Christ's action. This repetition, is, in fact, accomplished in all its essentials by rehearsing the words of the account of the institution.

Wholesome example or guilt trip?

For me, it is an illustration of the contrast between exegesis and eisegesis. Was the old widow who gave of her want to the Temple treasury in Sunday's reading truly a wholesome example? Or was she part of a guilt trip Jesus was pulling on the disciples? Elizabeth Kaeton says it might be the latter (possibly).

Guilt. I’m sorry, but that’s what I hear in this morning’s gospel. Guilt.

In the story of the Widow’s Mite, I hear Jesus sending his disciples on a guilt trip this morning. Ah, look at all the rich people putting large sums into the religious coffers. Now, look at the poor widow, putting in two small copper coins–-all she had. And yet, says Jesus, she has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury.

See? Get the picture? I do. And, it has GUILT writ large all over it. Then again, maybe it’s not guilt. Perhaps I see guilt because I’m so sensitive to it. Motivation by guilt is an old trick my mother used at the drop of a hat.

You can read the whole thing here.

Pictures from Confirmation Sunday