Baggage
If you’ve read my previous posts, you understand when I say I had a few pieces of excess baggage that I dragged into the Anglican church. It was as if each church that had influenced me left me a bag with a different style of clothing that I could try on to see if it suited in any given situation. Some of the items were useful, but some were really stinky and I was ready to cast them off.
The impetus behind all of my church exploration, including Anglicanism, was rooted in a deep desire to have a relationship with God through Christ and experience the presence of the Holy Spirit in its fullness.
In my experience, that was best expressed in churches that were either openly charismatic or at least open to exploring the charismatic gifts and teachings about them. I had rejected Pentecostalism largely due to the insistence that a second “baptism of the Holy Spirit” was needed and that this would be manifested by speaking in tongues. This teaching had always made me uncomfortable, even as a child. Conversely, I took issue with those who taught that these gifts and signs had ceased. I simply could not find a plain scriptural basis for either position. However, my personal conviction was that the Holy Spirit was able to work through us and show himself in our Christian lives through daily Scripture reading, but also through signs and miracles. These might include such things as healings, clairvoyance (typically called word of knowledge), prophecies, and tongues. The persistent question that nagged at me after the experience we had at Living Water Church (the Pentecostal church of my childhood) was “who on earth could be trusted with such things?” and “How could we know they weren’t all charlatans? How could we know the “signs” weren’t demonic or just ginned up for theatrical effect.” Even in the times when I would attempt to lay down all of my doubts and skepticism, I still held a good amount in reserve.
The Anglican church invited us in with all that baggage and gave us the space to sort through it all. It gave us an identity as Christians. After all of this slogging through so many different varieties of doctrine and worship practice, the traditional grounding that was present in the Anglican church offered stability. Consequently I had greater confidence in the clergy. The 500-year history, her liturgical practice, and the episcopal structure stemming from apostolic succession meant that there were deeper roots to this church than I had ever had.
And yet, cohabiting alongside that tradition and history, there was a modern companion, for better or for worse. When I first attended the Episcopal Church, then Church of the Resurrection, and finally the parish that was to be our church home, I was surprised by how open they were to “moves of the Holy Spirit” and the operation of spiritual gifts as defined by the charismatic churches. Practices such as theophostic, (or transformational) prayer ministries, listening (also called “soaking”) prayer, words of knowledge given by one believer to another, prophecies, and miraculous healings, etc. were permissible, and even encouraged.1 Music was a blend of traditional hymns and lively contemporary music. Congregants clapped, raised their hands and sang like the “hand-raisin’ churches,”2 but stood and crossed themselves for the reading of the gospel. Meanwhile the clergy (both men and women) wore vestments, explained the meaning behind the sacraments, recited the Nicene creed and blessed the waters of baptism. The real presence of Christ in communion was taught and believed. Holy water was used for blessing and consecrating, and oil was administered in prayers for healing. Here, I was offered the sacraments and tradition that I craved and yet retained the familiar contemporary, charismatic expressions of faith as well. I was being drawn out of bland Protestantism into a structured, liturgical worship life but there had not been a clean break with the baggage of the past. Many of the theological “outfits” remained.
In the ACNA,3 our whole family benefitted from caring clergy and church leaders who had a passion for teaching Scripture, praying with and for people in healing prayer ministries, and raising up strong, believing families who would bear witness to the gospel in the world. Also at our time in this church I was a recipient of healing ministries that served to bring closure and relief to deep wounds that existed in my past. I found a safe place with clergy and mentors to receive counsel and prayer, and my life was renewed. In turn, I became a facilitator with this ministry and was able to help others find healing and peace for similar hurts.
Until the time of our departure from our church of 15 years, I was pretty sure I would remain an Anglican for the rest of my life. Above all, I had grown very attached to the weekly celebration of the eucharist because if nothing else—if the sermon was weak or the music didn’t connect—Christ was present in the eucharist and all I had to do was go forward and receive. Gradually, and without necessarily defining it, I had reconciled my desire for supernatural experience by participating in the sacraments. I could doubt any theological position, any doctrinal dogma, or any manifestation of the Holy Spirit, but I could not escape the reality that my weekly encounter with the sacraments was anything less than holy. At minimum, it grounded and centered me. At most, it healed me, and I didn’t want to be anywhere else.
The Anglican church is not perfect by any means—no church is. But the grounding elements of the sacramental worship made it possible to tolerate the variety of weaknesses and problems that would crop up from time to time. My husband and I generally agreed that unless we saw outright heresy being taught from the pulpit or sin that went unchecked from leadership, we would remain with our church. Unfortunately the day came when one of those two boundaries was violated, and we made the painful decision to leave the church that we loved. With this departure, the baggage of all of the collective churches was abandoned and we were left with nothing but Scripture and faith in God.
The Charismatic movement in the Church of England has been ongoing throughout the 20th century and even until now. This Article in First Things online magazine explains the series of events and leaders associated with it. This blog post from Anglican Compass by an Anglican priest explains perfectly the position of most modern Anglican churches who could be identified as “charismatic.”
Tim Hawkins “Push, Pull, Point, Pow!” 2012.
The Anglican Church in North America (ACNA) was established on June 22, 2009 in response to an increasing acceptance of non-traditional and unorthodox practices and teachings in the Episcopal Church of the USA (ECUSA) and other churches in the Anglican Communion. In establishing this new denomination there is the attempt to maintain orthodox Christian teachings such as proper Christology, protestant soteriology, and the view of traditional marriage and sexual morality.