This is Life!: Revolutions Around the Cruciform Axis

The Road to Canterbury I

[Note: This is the second series (chronologically) of posts describing my spiritual pilgrimage from the Stone-Campbell Restoration Movement churches, through the Anglican churches, to the threshold of the Orthodox Church. The first series "Starting from Cane Ridge," can be found here on this blog, or in a single html document here. The third series of posts, "The Journey to Antioch" can be found here on this blog, or in a single html document here.]

Looking for the Historic Church

From my final semester at Ozark till my confirmation in the Episcopal Church was a period of some six years of exploring and living, as best I could in my circumstances, what I was discovering about the Anglican tradition and the Episcopal Church in the United States of America (ECUSA). But although, as will be told, my exploration took place within the Anglican tradition, what I was searching for was the historic Church, a connection to the New Testament Church that I had not found in my heritage churches.

During my final semester, I was ordained in the Stone-Campbell Restoration Movement Christian churches on 7 April 1991 at my home congregation, Countryside Christian Church. It was a powerful and moving experience for me. I felt the heavy weight of the responsibility to which I’d been charged, as well as the powerful support that God was giving and would give me through his Spirit.

In May, I then presented the salutatorian address of my college graduating class, and submitted a plethora of resumes to secure a local ministry with a church as near as would facilitate me studying at Lincoln Christian Seminary, in Lincoln, Illinois, where I intended to continue my education and training. Though the process was a lengthy and anxious one, I eventually secured a ministry as a full-time minister to a fledgling campus ministry in Vincennes, Indiana.

The area in and around Vincennes was very strongly Roman Catholic, and as one might guess, while in Vincennes, I intently, though only briefly, explored the Roman Catholic Church.

In studying the Anglican tradition, to the extent that I had at that time, I knew enough about Anglicanism's history, and the emergence of the Anglican Church in its present identity from the spousal troubles of King Henry VIII to know that there was a difference between the pre-Reformation catholic Church of England, and Church of England after the Reformation. I knew that as a result of the act of King Henry, among other factors, the Anglican Church was not in communion with Rome or the Orthodox Churches.

It was clear to me, then, that the history and connections to the New Testament Church that the Roman Catholic Church had, were deeper than that of the Anglican Church. So I purchased several apologetical works on the Catholic Church, attempting to explore its major doctrines, its liturgies, and its life. It was during this time that I took up the practice of praying the Rosary, and began to better understand and accept the realities of the Sacraments and of the intercessions of Mary, the Mother of God, for us.

However, I don’t think I ever held any serious thought of converting to Rome. My Protestantism was too deep to accept such dogmas as the primacy and infallibility of the Pope, the Immaculate Conception, and other distinctly Roman Catholic beliefs. Instead, I continued to turn more fully to the Anglican tradition. I wasn't much troubled by apostolic succession at the time, or of the validity or invalidity of Anglican orders and sacraments. I was simply looking for a church that had a history that connected it to the New Testament Church, and one in which I could keep the central convictions that I had. And it seemed the Anglican Church, specifically the Episcopal Church, would both give me what I wanted and allow me to keep my core beliefs. But though there was an Episcopal Church in Vincennes, I could never summon the courage or sense of comfort, given my circumstances in the campus ministry, to attend.

My short life as a campus minister was a great experience overall. I divided my time between campus ministry, my classes at seminary, and my personal exploration of the historic Church. Being single and a minister magnified my solitude, but it was a necessary discipline, and gave me time to think, study, write, explore my vocation and to pray.

During that first semester at seminary, one of the books I read was The Way of a Pilgrim, and I began to pray the Jesus Prayer with some regularity. But though I had, by this time, read Peter Gilquist's Becoming Orthodox, I did not begin to seriously think about or pursue Orthodoxy until much later. For now, I simply enfolded these discoveries into my Anglican search.

From the first few days of my arrival, it was clear that the husband and wife founders of the campus ministry, who were still integral parts of the daily operations of the ministry, had a different conception than did I of how the ministry was to take shape. One of the early disagreements was about whether I should have a series of lessons on the specific Restoration Movement understanding of baptism. I took up a position that focused on discipleship to Jesus first, and after that would come specific doctrinal understandings, so I did not present the lessons they had in mind. Indeed, I made clear to them that the focus of my ministry was one of encouraging and enabling serious commitment to Jesus Christ. I was not out to turn this into a “glorified youth ministry” with a focus on social activities and field trips. Nor was I intending on turning the campus ministry into a recruiting tool for the local Stone-Campbell churches. Most of the students came from other church groups, and it was my responsibility to minister to them where they were at, and not conform them to a predetermined denominational slant.

For the first several months these differences were largely kept out of sight of the students. But in early spring a ministry trip with the students was planned without my knowledge. Within about a week of the beginning of the trip, one of the founders called me to inform me of the travel schedule, travel dates, and what my participation was to be. Needless to say, neophyte that I was to “full-time” ministry, I knew this was a watershed event. Tensions escalated between the founders and myself, albeit beneath the surface, until finally the founders and I met for dinner and we had a face-to-face discussion. I think they were surprised by my frankness and bluntness, since they assumed me to be inexperienced and “fresh out of Bible college.” I was polite and respectful, but firm in my convictions and my stand. Though we left without unity of purpose, I think we left with greater mutual respect.

Within a month of that meeting, it became clear that the funds for the ministry, and my salary, were not coming in as expected. In hindsight, the campus ministry board had moved too fast and too aggressively in attempting to fund a full-time minister so early. Despite my disagreements with the founders, and the lack of full communication on the part of the board with regard to the finances, I was and am grateful for the experience, and thankful to them for taking a chance on a newly-graduated candidate.

With no salary to pay the bills, I left Vincennes just short of a year of having arrived. Shortly after arriving in Vincennes, I had hooked up with a local congregation which was associated with the campus ministry board. The minister took his faith seriously, and was focused on a ministry of discipleship. This was out of the norm for the area churches whose ministry paradigm was more a “traditional” one of Sunday sermons and lessons and weekday pastoral calls. But whatever faults this congregation may have been alleged to have had, the one thing they were big on was love. They paid for a moving van for me, so I could get my belongings home. And it's no coincidence that the last faces I saw on leaving Vincennes were those of these church members and a handful of students from the campus ministry, who threw me a going-away picnic.

After a long, ten-hour, late-night drive, I arrived home. Within a few months I had relocated to Lawrence, Kansas, ostensibly to study English at Kansas University. Instead, I would begin the first steps toward becoming Anglican.

Posted by Clifton at August 4, 2004 06:00 AM | TrackBack