What are the main differences between Presbyterianism and Catholicism?

The following was originally posted as an answer on Quora to the question at hand.

First, unlike the Roman Catholic Church, Presbyterians are what is called a confessional church, meaning that they adhere to a statement of faith (or “confession”) beyond the basic Creeds of the early Church (Nicene and Apostolic). A confession lists a whole series of things their members are required to believe. Usually for Presbyterians this is means the Reformed confessions like the Westminster Confession (see Westminster Confession of Faith). Most Protestant denominations fit this description — Lutherans, for example, adhere to the Augsburg Confession. A list of Reformed confessions can be found at Historic Church Documents at Reformed.org. The Roman Catholic Church does have its dogma and catechism, but no binding precise statements of faith beyond the Creeds. Technically when one becomes Catholic and is baptized, one need only accept the Nicene and Apostolic Creeds as the minimum statement of faith; the rest is therefore less binding, if still important.

Second, as the name implies, Presbyterians do not believe in episcopal governance like Roman Catholics, Anglicans/Episcopalians, Old Catholics, or the Orthodox do (in theory Methodists also fit this category, but are somewhere in between the two). I would call these latter churches collectively “Catholic churches”, even if some are technically also Protestant. The Catholic churches all believe in the three-fold offices of bishop, priest (also called “presbyter” or “elder”), and deacon. Presbyterians, by contrast, do not believe in an office of bishop that is distinct from the office of presbyter.

Third, as an extension of the second point, Presbyterians do not believe in the apostolic succession and historic episcopate like the Catholic churches do. This means that for them, only Scripture and correct teachings give a church legitimacy (Sola scriptura); unlike Catholics they do not require that the church be led by leaders in an unbroken line of bishops going back to the Apostles. The Catholic churches instead believe that Scripture is a source of doctrine, but not the only one — writings of the Church Fathers and other parts of Church tradition are just as important.

Fourth, as a further extension of the second and third points, they do not believe in an ontological change by ordination. This means that they don’t view ordination as a full sacrament like the Eucharist or baptism. A sacrament like baptism is irreversible — once baptized, always baptized. Thus once someone becomes a Catholic priest or bishop, they remain so for the rest of their lives, even if they may lapse in the meantime or stop actively working as such. An elder in the Presbyterian church, however, merely holds an office and is not “changed” by the ordination.

Fifth, there are major differences in teachings revolving around justification and free will. As a church in the Reformed tradition, Presbyterians hold to a kind of predestination, which Roman Catholics reject, preferring the idea that human beings are capable of using their free will to turn to God (while being unable to do so without help from the Holy Spirit). They also believe that faith alone (Sola fide) brings salvation, that is, only what one believes is relevant and not what one does. Catholics generally hold to faith and works, with the works (things you do) being the necessary result of that faith.

Lastly, like other Reformed churches, Presbyterians accept only two sacraments, Baptism and Eucharist, whereas Rome believes in seven (Baptism, Eucharist, Confirmation, Holy Orders/Ordination, Confession/Reconciliation, Matrimony, Unction/Anointing of the Sick). Furthermore, Presbyterians reject any semblance of the Real Presence in the Eucharist. The Real Presence means that one believes the bread and wine are somehow changed into the Body and Blood of Christ. Roman Catholics believe in a form of the Real Presence called transubstantiation, which was a medieval attempt to philosophically explain the Real Presence using Greek substance theory. Other Catholic churches generally believe in the Real Presence, but reject Rome’s narrower definition of it. Presbyterians view the Eucharist (or “Lord’s Supper”, as they prefer to call it) as symbolic only with no change in bread and wine. Furthermore, Presbyterians reject the Catholic idea of the Eucharist or Mass as a kind of penitential sacrifice, claiming that Jesus’ sacrifice on the Cross was a once-only thing for all time and that therefore “repeating” it at the Mass is heresy. (Catholics typically respond that they do not repeat that sacrifice, merely make it present in the here and now.)

A summary of Anglican Branch Theory in ecumenism

ANGLICAN
Roman Catholics, Orthodox, and Anglicans are all branches of the True Church.

ROMAN CATHOLIC and ORTHODOX (in unison)
No, you're not.

ORTHODOX
And neither is he.

Essay: "I am an Anglican"

You may recall my mentioning an essay contest from the Anglican Communion back in October. This is the text I sent as my entry. Now that the deadline has passed, the Eve of Epiphany and my 50th blog entry is as good a time as any to publish it here. Comments and pokes in the eye with sharp sticks are welcome.

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I am an Anglican

In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.

Given the stormy seas of the Anglican Communion in recent years, I believe Anglicans the world over need to remind themselves of just why we are Anglicans, and why we should remain so in spite of our own discomfort or disagreements.

This article will provide many such reasons of my own, in hopes that others may share in them and build on them with their own. I have divided them into seven parts – an auspicious number, since it is the number of the Messiah, in Whose name and (hopefully) with Whose help I write these words.

I am an Anglican, and I ask you to read these words and join me in sharing our wonderful and glorious faith.

Part I: Expressions of koinonia and communion

I am an Anglican because I believe Anglicanism is the best hope in the world for providing a model for the unity of all Christians. If all the major denominations were to suddenly heed Christ’s prayer that they all may be one, the result would look remarkably like our Anglican Communion, with the Bishop of Rome taking on a position analogous to our Archbishop of Canterbury, as a focus of communion but not the leader of it.

I am an Anglican because our Anglican Communion is the best living reflection of the dictum quoted by Pope John XXIII and usually attributed to Augustine of Hippo: In necessariis unitas, in dubiis libertas, in omnibus caritas – “in necessary things unity; in uncertain things freedom; in everything compassion.”

I am an Anglican because our church is such a large tent. Where others see weakness, division, confusion, inconsistency, and disharmony, I see a great family united in its diversity. A jewel only reveals its beauty when it has many facets, and so it is with our Communion. Only in our Anglican Communion can one find such a wide range of theology and practice, and yet somehow we stay together, with God’s help. Where there is dissent, we seek to resolve it through dialogue, not by threat of punishment; by communication, not excommunication.

I am an Anglican because we as a Communion can agree to disagree, such as on the issue of women’s ordination. Some member churches practice it, some don’t, some only partially, and there is no pressure from above to conform at an international level. Within some member churches, attempts to make careful provision for those who cannot in good faith accept women’s ordination have been made. Regardless of the success or merits of these attempts, this is a step which goes to show what lengths we Anglicans are willing to pursue to preserve our unity, something which is practically impossible in other churches. Thus we show a way forward to a future where all Christians are united not just in our baptism, but in the communion of our churches as well.

Part II: Expressions of faith in worship

I am an Anglican because of the richness, poetry, and power of our liturgical tradition. Along with the works of Shakespeare and the King James Bible, the words of the Book of Common Prayer are one of the greatest pillars of the English language, sounding immediately familiar to anyone hearing them. No other English-language liturgy comes close. No adaptation of the Book of Common Prayer by other churches, be it the Book of Divine Worship, the Liturgy of St. Tikhon, or others, compares to the majesty of the original language in its entirety.

I am an Anglican because of our glorious musical heritage, from Anglican Chant to Elgar to Prichard to Wesley to Merbecke to Ellerton to Purcell to Byrd to Vaughan Williams. That tradition is second to none in the English-speaking world, perhaps even in the whole world.

Part III: Expressions of koinonia and communion in ecumenism

I am an Anglican because we welcome and engage in dialogue with other churches like no other. The Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral is a unique invitation to all Christians to transcend our differences and to come together as one Body of Christ based on four simple ideas. Similarly, the Bonn Agreement with the Old Catholics shows the way for true communion and fellowship in a model that is unique in its simplicity, forthrightness and mutual respect. The same goes for our agreements with the Philippine Independent Church, the Mar Thoma Church, and so on. And, of course, at a local level member Anglican churches are forging ahead in joining with other churches, such as the “Called to Common Mission” agreement between the ELCA and the Episcopal Church in the United States, or the Anglican-Methodist Covenant in Britain, or the Porvoo Agreement in northern Europe, or the Churches of North and South India.

I am an Anglican because we do not declare other churches or Christians are deficient, invalid, or substandard. Instead we invite them in love to share our faith and to find common ground in humility and charity.

I am an Anglican because we invite all baptized Christians to join us at the table for Holy Communion. As Our Lord Jesus Christ said, “Judge not, that ye be not judged; for with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again” (Matt 7:1). It is not our place, nor the place of any institution on Earth, to judge others and decide for them whether they are worthy to receive the Lord in the Blessed Sacrament.

Part IV: Continuity and reason

I am an Anglican because on the one hand, we have an unbroken continuity going all the way back to St. Augustine of Canterbury and the Irish Church, and through them to the Apostles themselves and thus to Our Lord Jesus Christ, while not being suffocated under the rule of a single leader or Magisterium or endless statements and confessions of faith.

I am an Anglican because we do not presume to speak in God’s name infallibly on our own. Instead, we walk together the path of Christ to find and follow God’s Will, wherever that path may lead.

I am an Anglican because our church does not try to explain the unexplainable, as in the case of transubstantiation or consubstantiation, preferring as Richard Hooker did to simply accept that sacraments are mysteries and let God do the rest.

I am an Anglican because our church does not presume to second guess science. Instead, Reason is one of the three pillars of our faith, along with Scripture and Tradition, and Church and science live together in harmony, not as rivals, but as complementary pieces of the Truth. Indeed, the motto of the Anglican Communion is the words of Our Lord Jesus, written in Greek in the windrose that symbolizes our Communion: ἡ ἀλήθεια ἐλευθερώσει ὑμᾶς (“the Truth shall set you free,” John 8:32b).

I am an Anglican because I am proud and delighted to be in communion with scientists like Isaac Newton, Robert Boyle, Francis Bacon, Robert Hooke, Lord Kelvin, and Sir John Polkinghorne, as well as with the members of the Society of Ordained Scientists or the Episcopal Church Network for Science, Technology and Faith in the USA.

Part V: Communion of saints

I am an Anglican because we adopt and honor Christians of all denominations as our saints. It is hard to imagine any other church having Martin Luther King (Baptist), Dietrich Bonhoeffer (Lutheran), Óscar Romero (Roman Catholic), and Elizabeth Romanova (Russian Orthodox) commemorated together as statues on the walls one of its most significant churches, as we do on Westminster Abbey, together with “our” modern saints like Manche Masemola and Bishop Janani Luwum.

I am Anglican because we choose to honor certain saints even when it means admitting and highlighting mistakes of the past made in our church’s name, such as Thomas More, John Fisher, and Charles King and Martyr.

I am an Anglican because we join with all the saints in a great communion transcending death each time we celebrate the Eucharist, while not sliding into plain superstition or cults that divert from Christ Himself.

Part VI: Manifestation of the Church Catholic

I am an Anglican because I believe the Anglican Communion is a full and complete reflection of the ideals of Our Lord Jesus Christ and the Church Fathers. It contains the full essence of the koinonia, the community of the early Church, in its episcopal governance in apostolic succession and with territorial jurisdictions, with bishops acting together as equals. The Church has no head but Christ Himself, and in His name the leadership is shared by all bishops together. All bishops, not just the Bishop of Rome, are the true successors of Peter.

I am an Anglican because as Hippolytus of Rome wrote in his Apostolic Traditions, our bishops are commonly “chosen by all the people,” not appointed from above by a distant prelate with little or no consultation of the full body of believers. In this way truly all the parts of the Body of Christ play equally important roles in its vitality and continuity, regardless of whether one is clergy or lay. By this, the Holy Spirit works through each and every one of us to our fullest potential, and it also has the virtue of preventing any one individual from taking the Church in a way it was never intended to go.

I am an Anglican because our priesthood and bishops are closest to the descriptions we find in the Epistles, especially when it comes to having families: In the letter to Titus, bishops are described not as celibate or monastic, but being “the husband of one wife”. The Church Fathers clearly believed all Apostles except John were married and had families, which is supported in numerous parts of the New Testament (e.g. Mark 1:29-31, Matthew 8:14-15, Luke 4:38-39, 1 Timothy 3:2+12). One example is in 1 Corinthians 9:5, where it says: “Do we not have the right to take along a believing wife, as do the other apostles and the brothers of the Lord and Cephas?” Even the so-called “first Pope”, Peter, was himself married, as mentioned in the Gospel of Luke, and at least one Pope, Anastasius I, was succeeded by his own son, Innocent I. Even as late as Pope Honorius (died 1287), there were Popes who were married and had children. Therefore there is no logical reason on the basis of Scripture or Tradition that married people should be excluded from Holy Orders at any level.

I am an Anglican not because Anglicanism is a “Catholic alternative” to Rome, but because it is a true living manifestation of the Church Catholic: a priesthood of all believers where all are one in Christ. As it says in Paul’s epistle to the Romans, “For there is no difference between the Jew and the Greek: for the same Lord over all is rich unto all that call upon him. For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved”, and in Galatians, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus”. Thus the whole body of Christ takes part in all decisions in its synods of all believers, rather than being beholden to the decisions of one man or a tiny elite.

I am an Anglican not because it is “Catholic and reformed” or “reformed Catholic”, but because as a local church celebrating the sacraments, in particular the Eucharist, the Anglican Communion is a full expression of the Church Catholic without excluding other churches from being the same. So too are we a full manifestation of the Church just as each person of the Trinity is a full manifestation of God. These are the central aspects of how the Church Fathers describe the polity of the Church (cf. Leuenberg Documents 11, p. 93), therefore from the view of the Church Fathers’ ecclesiology, we are not “reformed” Catholic, nor are we “part” of the Church Catholic, we are Catholic.

I am an Anglican because our Catholicity is reflected most clearly in the fact we celebrated the sacraments in the vernacular centuries before it became common practice in the Roman church, allowing all to participate fully in the sacramental life of the Church. This has sadly been forgotten in other churches, which continue to uphold dead languages as a gold standard, so that few even understand what is being said, whether it is Latin, Old Church Slavonic, Greek or Aramaic. The irony is that the Latin Mass, today so bitterly defended by Western traditionalists versus the vernacular, was instituted originally because the people of Rome didn’t speak Greek, which at the time was the only language used. Latin was the vernacular at the time, so for the same reason the old Roman church celebrated in Latin, we celebrate in our own languages without question or controversy.

Part VII: Homeward bound

I am an Anglican because I searched for years for a church to call home in a place where all churches seem to be slowly dying, with widespread church closures and empty pews, and where committed Christians are now in the minority. In no other church outside our communion partners did I find the same Catholic essence, such as the emphasis on the Blessed Sacrament of Communion or the historic episcopate, combined with the comprehensiveness that is so integral to what it means to be Anglican. In no other church do I clearly see the past in unbroken tradition, the present in being accessible and relevant to the people of today, and the future in its supple institutions and vibrant activity so finely balanced. Once I found a place to live as an Anglican again within our communion, I came home, and that is where I shall stay.

I am an Anglican. I am home, and I hope you come home, too. +

John Grantham
25 November 2011
Hannover, Germany

+Michael of Rio Grande and the Personal Ordinariates

The Episcopal News Service is carrying an interesting pastoral letter from the Rt. Rev. Michael Vono, who is the current Episcopal Bishop of Rio Grande, one of the more conservative dioceses in the Episcopal Church. The letter is a reaction to the appointment of his predecessor to lead the Roman Catholic personal ordinariate for disaffected Anglicans. Read it all here.

I think it's a lovely way to view this development. Yes, it is irksome in that it feels like Rome is trying to poach believers, but at the same time it also gives breathing space and thus a chance for reconciliation down the road.

It also, by the by, works to undermine the centuries-old trend towards increasing centralism and enforced uniformity in the Roman communion, with the Latin (or Roman) Rite gradually replacing various other older rites and with a clearly preferred place above the other remaining ones. Having a new liturgical use on such a wide scale may hopefully begin to reverse, or at least slow down that trend. Well, here's hoping anyway.

Brace yourselves for Roman Catholic girls on the throne of England

According to the Beeb, the Commonwealth nations – more or less the successor to the British Empire and mostly made up for former British colonies, many of whom still have the King or Queen of England as their head of state – have agreed to change the succession rules for the throne, allowing the first-born child of either sex (rather than the first-born son) to inherit the throne in his or her own right.

Interestingly, they also undertook to allow the spouse of the future monarch to be Roman Catholic. This was banned under the Act of Settlement in 1701, which essentially cemented Parliament's role in confirming the and controlling the succession and gave legal backing to the overthrow of the Roman Catholic James VII & II* of the House of Stuart, and to the replacement of the (Catholic) House of Stuarts with the (Protestant) House of Hannover. It also ensured that future monarchs could never be Roman Catholic again, nor be influenced by their spouses, who might try to raise their children Catholic and therefore circumvent the law.

This has some significance for the Church of England and thus for all Anglicans. The reason is that the ruling monarch of England is also the supreme head of the Church of England, thanks to Henry VIII (as covered here and here). To clarify, however, the monarch is only the head of the C of E, not of all Anglicans, and while he or she influences the Communion as a whole by virtue of selecting the Archbishop of Canterbury, he (for now likely to only be a he) in practice merely chooses whomever the C of E in synod recommends.

The oddity of the law until now, however, was that in theory a future king or queen could have had a non-Anglican spouse – just not a Roman Catholic one. Atheist, Buddhist, Flying Spaghetti Monster, all these were possible, just not Papists. So in one sense it does clear up something that was difficult to justify in 1701, and is downright anachronistic today.

Just for a little Hannover-related trivia, this is why the current head of the House of Hannover, Prince Ernst August, disqualified himself from the succession by marrying Princess Caroline of Monaco, who is Roman Catholic. His children and younger brother still qualify and took his place in line. Since he was only 385th in line to the throne, I don't think he lost much sleep over it.

That said, in theory, there could now be a strange setup coming in the future – a future king or queen who is head of the Anglican church, but whose consort is Roman Catholic, poses legal problems as well. Roman Catholics are required to raise their children Roman Catholic as well, so even if a future Anglican monarch was not him or herself Roman Catholic, presumably the children would be. Then what? How could a Roman Catholic, or for that matter an atheist or Buddhist, be supreme head of the Church of England, Defender of the Faith** and all that?

I think the only logical solution to this legal issue, but also to resolve many others, is to disestablish the Church of England, that is, to no longer have it be the state church. You may be surprised by this, considering my discussion about the issues around Henry and his wives, but in the modern age, I am convinced that separation of church and state is not only rational and fairer to other religious (or non-religious) groups, it is also beneficial to the church in the long run.

I would argue that the strict separation of church and state in the US is one contributing factor to why religion is still so vibrant there compared to Europe. Admittedly, disestablishment would hurt the C of E in the short term – the loss of tax support, while presumably still having to pay the considerable costs of maintaining public buildings, like all those churches and cathedrals – in the long run I think it would healthy. An example can be found right next door – the Church in Wales, the Welsh counterpart to the C of E (and yes, it's "in" Wales, but "of" England). The C in W was separated from the C of E, and disestablished and disendowed (i.e. stripped of property) by Act of Parliament, namely the Welsh Church Act of 1914. Disestablishment and disendowment only took effect in 1920 due to the war. This was highly controversial at the time, not least among high churchmen such as yours truly. But I would argue that the Church in Wales is now far better off than its counterpart in England, with attendance actually increasing and with the C in W doing well compared with the stronger Nonconformist churches.

I believe this is because the Church in Wales isn't beholden to Parliament and can reform itself as it pleases. A good example of the C of E's farcically being tied down by Parliament is the attempted liturgical reform in 1928, which failed because Parliament voted it down – and was voted down mainly by non-Anglicans who objected to the content of the reform. Even today, the C of E officially uses the 1662 Book of Common Prayer for the same reason, and the de facto standard liturgy, Common Worship, is officially the "alternative", even though few if any parishes use the 1662 BCP as their main liturgy anymore. This is something straight out of Monty Python, not the New Testament. Surely it would be better for the C of E to no longer be beholden to a Parliament that simply has no expertise in questions of theology, and is substantially made of non-members who aren't affected by the C of E anyway. Today there are atheists and Muslims in Parliament. Nothing wrong with that at all, in fact I welcome it – but really, should they have a say in how the Church of England is run?

Additionally, thanks to disestablishment and disendowment, the Church in Wales is not burdened with the upkeep of ancient buildings, and can rebuild and refocus. To put it in economic terms, the feedback loop between the church's actions and its financial health is thus far smaller and faster, so the church is better equipped to adjust and prepare for changes in economic conditions, and thus manage its resources more wisely. The shorter the information has to travel, the more efficient and constructive the response. This is also critically lacking in the Church of England, and these are all reasons why the C of E is so moribund compared to other Anglican churches around the world. If the C of E is to return to the missionary zeal that spread Anglicanism around the globe and made Anglicanism the third-largest church in the world, then it has to break free of the ballast that is holding it back, and I believe disestablishment is the only answer that will have a lasting positive effect.

I think the time has come to not just allow the British monarch and his or her consort to be Roman Catholic. The time has come for the Church of England to stand on its own collective feet. The short-term pain is well worth the long-term gain.

* - While most sources today speak of "James II", that is technically incorrect. James was the second king named James in England – but was the seventh in Scotland. Hence it is more appropriate to number both successions, since at the time the thrones were not actually united, merely occupied by the same monarch. In theory the current Queen should therefore be "Elizabeth II & I", but since the thrones were more or less united under the Act of Union in 1707, it is unnecessary and was abandoned at the accession of Her Majesty. Now the English or Scottish number of succession is taken, whichever is higher.

** - Another little historical trivia bit: The title "defender of the faith" has been claimed by English monarchs ever since Henry VIII – yes, him again. But the real irony is that he was granted the title by the Pope at the time, Leo X, because of his orthodox Catholicism and anti-Lutheran positions. Henry just kept using it after the split with Rome, and passed it on to his successors.

The blessing of bells for our new church

After struggling for years after its founding in 1955 and drifting from church to church as guests, our Old Catholic parish in Hannover finally fulfilled the dream of having our own church, which was consecrated by Bishop Matthias Ring in September. The diocese came together to help finance the construction, which all told cost around €1 million, which all came from the parish itself, the diocese, the Bonn parish, and numerous donations from individuals.

However, the church is still lacking some things that were planned, in particular bells. If you look at pictures of the church, you can see the bell tower on one side of the roof, between the church and parish hall, but it is as of now still empty.

As a sign of the warm ecumenical relations we have with the other parishes in the area, the next-door EKD Lutheran Parish of St. James (Jakobikirche) donated one of their bells for us to install, which as it happens is g´´. We then ordered a second bell, which is e´´ and thus goes well with the smaller, older bell, and it was cast in a small ceremony. The bell will then come to join its older sister, and both will be consecrated Bishop Matthias in the name of our patron, Maria Angélique, on November 18. I'm happy to say that it was entirely financed by donations, to the tune of €12,000 -- something which I never dreamed would be possible just five years ago. But it is a further sign of how our parish is really flowering in recent years, by the grace of God and the hard work of our members, in spite of the general decline of churches in Germany and Europe as a whole.

The bells will be installed in early December this year and will be heard for the first time, fittingly enough, during the Christmas midnight mass, where we will no doubt sing "Ding! Dong! merrily on high" or something similar. (Hey, I always loved the Gloria in that hymn...one of my favorite carols.)

Anglicans and the Orthodox: A view of the past and (hopefully) future

At Project Canterbury, there is an interesting collection of various historical documents related to Anglicanism and its history. One particular article caught my interest, written by the Most Rev. Archbishop Germanos, Metropolitan of Thyatira, dated 1929. He describes the history of relations between the Orthodox and English Churches, and interestingly seems to think of the English Church in the way Anglo-Catholics generally do -- as a church whose history was essentially independent of Rome and merely severed ties with the See of Rome, rather than founding a whole new church. In other words, the Church founded by the Irish missionaries and St. Augustine of Canterbury is embodied in today's Church of England. Henry VIII merely cut off that church from the Pope and didn't found a new church at all.

He also talks at some length about the Non-Juror bishops in Britain in the early 17th century. These bishops were the result of a mini-schism in the Church of England that arose with the deposition of the House of Stuart and the installment of the House of Hannover on the English and Scottish throne, which was codified in the Act of Settlement. These Scottish bishops wished to remain loyal to the (Catholic-friendly and Scottish) Stuarts, and thus were in essence "high church", perhaps forerunners of Anglo-Catholics in the modern sense. These bishops then contacted the Orthodox with a view to creating an Anglican church within Orthodoxy, and discussions were well advanced when the Archbishop of Canterbury became aware of them, informed the Orthodox patriarchs that they were not authorized, and the patriarchs in turn ended the dialogue.

The Non-Jurors went on to provide the fledgling Episcopal Church in America with their first bishop, Samuel Seabury, on the condition that the Episcopal Church use the Scottish rite for their ordinations, which was duly agreed. +Samuel remained high church, and ironically loyal to Britain (and thus to the Hannoverian George III) during the Revolution, but did in fact pass on his line of succession and the Scottish Rite to the Episcopal Church. One possible artifact of this is the "Old Scottish Gloria" in the 1982 Hymnal of the Episcopal Church, which I believe is clearly influenced by Orthodox solemn music for the Divine Liturgy, such as the Akathistos hymn to the Virgin Mary.

Thus there are long-standing connections between the Orthodox and Anglicans. On the face of it, there are some issues that are simply impossible to resolve, even back in 1929, before the issues of women's ordination or homosexuality were even on the radar screen. However, the author writes in closing:

On my last journey to the East, when the question of the reunion of our Churches was raised, an Orthodox cleric said to me: "It is evident that Unity in Faith is not a sine qua non in the Anglican Church; for in that Church different views are held, not only in secondary matters but in fundamental matters of faith. The appeal of the last Lambeth Conference to all the Christians and the conduct of the English Church towards ecclesiastical bodies which had severed their continuity with the ancient Church, and finally the well-known discussions at the time of the revision of the Prayer Book, show clearly how wide the conception of the Church is among Anglicans. What can further discussions avail, when there exists a radical disagreement between the two Churches on this fundamental point? If, on the other hand, the object of the discussion is to define the common teaching of the Faith, as a link uniting the two Churches to each other, and one of the debating parties has made advances to others on a much wider basis, does not any further discussion seem in vain? Let us therefore be content to cultivate friendly relations and intercourse with the Anglican Church also, and stop deceiving ourselves as well as others with hopes that Unity in Faith is possible."

I answered him thus: "I recognize in one way your doubts and I share your uneasiness, but I shall never reach your despair; you despair because you ignore the nature and constitution of the Anglican Church, and you have not followed at close quarters the slow but undoubted evolution of this Church. If you knew this Church from the moment of its emancipation from Rome; if you had studied the many struggles of some of its members to save what is truly Catholic in it; if you, through close touch, became persuaded of the sincerity of their intentions and the depth of their religious convictions, then despair would not have found a place in your heart. Why should we not think that a time is coming when the Catholic nucleus which always existed in the Anglican Church should not prevail over the whole body, so that it should appear in that form which would make reunion with our Orthodox Church possible? Meanwhile, the duty of the Orthodox is not to break the definite bond which binds us to the Anglican Communion, but to help in such an evolution, through friendly intercourse and in a spirit of peaceful discussion. And finally, since the work of reunion appertains first to the glory of God and the prevalence of His Kingdom on earth, why should we not lay our hopes on Him, who is everything and in this also, as in the work of our religious edification?" So then, "neither is he that planteth anything, neither he that watereth, but God that giveth the increase" (i Corinthians iii 7). Oremus et laboremus. [Emphasis mine.]

For me, that is a remarkable way of looking at it, and I hope that his optimism will be rewarded, not just with Anglicans, but with Old Catholics as well. Even the most troublesome issues will surely be resolved if we prayerfully and genuinely want reunion between East and West, and above all we must remain in close contact for that to happen. One side or the other won't simply change to suit the other overnight, nor should they. But through common shared experience, each can learn to see, recognize and appreciate the holy in the Other, and come to see that they too are indeed truly part of God's one Church. Once that is achieved, all else is secondary. Oremus et laboremus. Amen.

Utrecht Old Catholics and the Orthodox Church: Meeting on Crete

Last year, a delegation of eleven representatives of the Union of Utrecht visited Crete to meet with various representatives of the Orthodox Church. The meeting was planned by the Orthodox-Old Catholic Working Group as a way of building on the successful work of the joint commission in 1987 and deepening ties further.

The German Old Catholic diocesan website has an interesting report in German about the visit. I will summarize it here for those of you not up on your Goethe and Brecht, while adding some thoughts of my own.

The host, Crete's local Orthodox church, is semi-autonomous, formally belonging to the Ecumenical Patriarchate in Constantinople. The Old Catholic visitors noted how well received and respected they were by their hosts. One of the most arresting signs of this was when the Orthodox bishop of Kisamos and Selinon invited the attendees to a service that Sunday, where both Orthodox and Old Catholics were included in commemorative prayers -- an act that is normally only done for Christians in communion. The Archbishop of Crete also attended to his guests in such a way that the reporter is reminded of Mark 10:43 -- whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant.

During the meetings, it was repeatedly and clearly emphasized that the Ecumenical Patriarch himself has a strong interest in continuing and deepening dialog and relations with the Union of Utrecht, regardless of the differences and problems that still exist that may seem to make full communion difficult if not impossible. Interestingly, the ordination of women is expressly not the central issue -- Orthodox theologians have said that women's ordination is not dogmatically impossible -- but rather the expression of communion on differing levels. That is in reference to Old Catholics having a relatively low bar for agreeing to communion and inviting to partake in the Eucharist, specifically to the agreements the Old Catholics have with us Anglicans (full communion) and the German mainline Protestant church, the EKD (invitation to members to partake in Eucharist, without full communion). From an Orthodox perspective, these agreements simply could not exist under their standards for full communion or sharing in the Eucharist, and indeed the Bonn Agreement is remarkable for how little it defines or declares.

Overall, the study trip was well received by all participants and gave the visiting Old Catholic students a much deeper appreciation of the Orthodox Church.

Kyrie eleison. :)

Hexham Abbey Men's and Boys' Choir paying us a welcome visit

Late last year, I had a rather unexpected e-mail from England. It seemed the Hexham Abbey Girls' Choir was on tour and wanted to know if they could sing at our church. Together with our rector, I made the arrangements, and in February we had a wonderful concert (photos here) and a Holy Eucharist service accompanied by their singing (photos here). As an additional pleasure, their priest also came along, and jointly celebrated the Eucharist with our priest – a lovely expression of the full communion that exists between Utrecht Old Catholics and Anglicans.

As noted on our parish website, the people from Hexham Abbey are again paying a visit, this time the Men's and Boy's Choir, on 22 and 23 October. The first date, at 7 pm, will be a concert, and the following day at 11 am, we will again celebrate the Eucharist accompanied by the Hexham singers. I'm quite pleased by this, and as our rector said at the last visit, it was like we were used to driving an old car, but suddenly could use a luxury model. Very apt. :)

Church and communion: Rome and Utrecht

According to a news report on the German Old Catholic diocesan website, the Old Catholic-Roman Catholic dialogue will continue after a positive reaction from both sides. I'm quite pleased, if skeptical that it will lead anywhere, but at least both sides are willing to try.

At the last Old Catholic synod in 2010 in Mainz, where I was a delegate, we discussed the joint paper released by the dialogue commission, not without some serious controversy. It saddens me that some Old Catholics who used to be Roman Catholic can't seem to get past their own personal animosities -- no matter how justified those animosities may be -- and thump tubs against Rome at every opportunity, but that is exactly what went on there. Some of the arguments used against talking with Rome were absurd, to say the least. The bishop had to intervene in the debate more than once because of that.

That said, there are indeed some potential roadblocks which on the face of it don't have any obvious solutions.

The most interesting question, I think, is how women's ordination will be handled. There is simply no way Old Catholics can or will turn back from it. Rome could, in theory, still tolerate it -- in fact that is the exact wording in the joint report -- in a church with which it is in communion, but it would be extremely tricky given the language used in Ordinatio sacerdotalis, wherein John Paul II essentially said that the Church is not able, or is not permitted, to ordain women.

While Ordinatio sacerdotalis is not formally a dogma, it would still be a remarkable about-face if Rome were to accept Old Catholics ordaining women, and at the very latest, once Old Catholics decide they want a female bishop -- which is only a matter of time -- then Rome will be really in a corner.

The second issue that will be thorny, to say the least, is indeed all those former Roman Catholics who are now Old Catholic. By leaving the Roman communion, they were automatically excommunicated as schismatics. If Rome were to establish full communion with Utrecht Old Catholics, then the status of these people -- such as, oh, most of the Old Catholic priests as well as a good-sized chunk of the membership -- would have to be clarified in such a way as to allow them to join the Roman communion without having some kind of penance or guilt hung on them. Even the relatively mild phrasing in the report, where Rome would offer a kind of amnesty or lift the penalty of excommunication, caused angry and pained reactions among many members, who felt that they had done nothing wrong by following their conscience (which, strictly speaking, is true). And of course Rome would also potentially lose credibility by merely lifting a penalty for something it has so long condemned.

A third issue affects me more personally -- what about the Old Catholics' relations with us Anglicans? The plain implication of the document is that if Old Catholics want communion with Rome, they will have to sacrifice their communion with Anglicans, as well as their cordial agreements with the mainline Protestants in Germany, the EKD. From all I have heard and have been told, this is one thing Old Catholics are not willing to sacrifice, meaning Rome would have to somehow reconcile themselves to being in communion with a church that is in turn in communion with a church whose orders and sacraments it doesn't recognize (see Apostolicae Curae).

There is one possible solution to this that has been discussed before, mostly by Anglo-Catholics. While Rome has not recognized Anglican orders at least since Apostolicae Curae was published, the reason rests almost entirely on the supposed defects of the ordination rite used during the reign of Edward VI. The concept is that the line of succession of valid bishops, and with it the validity of the church, was broken by using a rite that wasn't up to snuff. Reinstating a valid rite later, therefore, would not restore the validity of the church -- at least according to the usual "pipeline theory" of apostolic succession.

But here's the thing: Anglican ordination rites in their current form do not have the alleged defect. So if a validly ordained bishop were to participate in an Anglican bishop's ordination, he (though probably not she...) would in theory be validly ordained, even in Rome's eyes, and could pass that valid succession on to someone else, at least assuming that someone else is male. Since that has indeed been happening ever since the Bonn Agreement between Old Catholics and Anglicans in 1931, in theory most if not all Anglican bishops today should therefore be validly ordained, no matter what Apostolicae Curae says. (I did spend some time a while back checking the successions of all current American Episcopal bishops, and sure enough, all can trace one or more lines back to Utrecht.)

So there is a possible grand bargain here. Rome finally recognizes Anglican orders, which removes a block to Rome agreeing on communion with Old Catholics. And in both cases, Rome agrees that women's ordination is a possibility, but refuses to do so itself -- more or less the same solution used within the Anglican Communion, which has churches that do and don't ordain women.

Hey, I can dream, can't I?

No matter what, the continuing dialog between Rome and Utrecht will be fascinating to watch. I highly recommend ordering and reading the joint paper, Kirche und Kirchengemeinschaft (Church and Communion), which can be ordered on the German Old Catholic diocesan website. There is also an English-language research paper that discusses the current state of the dialog between Utrecht and Rome, as well as the PNCC, an Old Catholic church that split from the Union of Utrecht over women's ordination. +David Hamid, Suffragan Bishop of the Diocese in Europe, also published an article on the topic. Lastly, the Union of Utrecht has an article in English discussing the current state of dialogue with Rome.

Our prison walls: Sermon for the Seventh Sunday of Easter, Year C

Acts 16:16-34, Psalm 97, Revelation 22:12-14, 16-17, 20-21, John 17:20-26

There is something striking about the reading from the Acts of the Apostles. Paul and Silas end up in prison for no other reason than curing a woman of an affliction. Rather than complain about their suffering the consequences of their beliefs, Paul and Silas sit there, with their feet in the stocks, and sing songs praising God.

Not long ago, Elizabeth and I were at an ecumenical meeting for the World Day of Prayer, where all those present were supposed to imagine they were particular characters in this story, and tell the group what they were thinking at that precise moment in the story. Sad to say, but many of the attendees were trying to outdo each other with overly pious statements, with plenty of overacting to drive home their piety. I was doing my best not to let my eyes roll into the back of my head, and then I leaned over to Elizabeth, told her I imagined myself to be Silas, and thinking, “Damn, Paul, when’s the last time you trimmed your toenails?”

This highlights how people project things they want to see onto Bible stories, rather than finding what lies hidden within them. A straight pious reading is more likely to lead to a spiritual dead end. It’s just too pat, too simple, and in the end an empty message.

This reading has something extraordinary that the attendees simply ignored. Here are two people, Paul and Silas, who have been tossed into prison after being caned and flogged, with their feet in the stocks, apparently with no hope of escape or freedom. Yet here they are, cheerfully singing songs praising God, as if nothing was wrong. Even when the doors are opened wide, they sit there singing.

Of course, the simple pious reading is that God heard their prayers and destroyed the prison to set them free. But I think that’s too easy. For one thing, Paul and Silas don’t leave. Even though the prison door is standing wide open, they stay put. That should raise a red flag that something incredible is happening here. Something much, much deeper.

The deeper dimension is that the prison wasn’t a prison at all. It is only a prison if you let it be one. If you have enough faith, you can triumph over any adversity and turn it into something more, a blessing. Even sitting in a rotten cell, one can be free, because our minds and our hearts are free. No matter where we are, no matter what situation, we are as free as we want to be, and free to praise God, no matter the consequences. Jesus said, the truth will set you free, and indeed the bigger the picture, the smaller our problems are, and the more we can free ourselves from their burden. Paul and Silas didn’t leave that prison, because they were never in a prison to begin with.

[By way of illustration, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a Christian who resisted the Nazi regime in Germany, wrote his famous poem while waiting to be executed. That right there should speak volumes.]

The thing is, we tend to build prisons all the time. By that I don’t mean the kind with bricks and mortar. I mean the spiritual kind. We imprison ourselves in all sorts of ways. Addiction, narcicissm, navel-gazing, chasing after fads and fashion, worrying about our place in society and our social station: All these things imprison us by shackling our minds to things that don’t really matter. We pursue these things, the pursuit of happiness, but in the end none of it will make you truly happy, and certainly not truly free. They are all crutches, things that we lean on. But because we lean on them too much, our spiritual muscles atrophy, and we forget just what it means to be free, to be truly free of everything.

We also tend to build prisons in other ways, by building walls that shut ourselves in, but also by building walls to keep others out. We human beings are great at dividing ourselves up, and placing other people into neat little compartments, then getting mad when someone doen’t quite fit into one of those drawers. We find things to fight about, to separate ourselves from the rest. American and Russian, white and black, Jew and Muslim and Christian, Redskins fans and Cowboys fans, and on and on. Borders are drawn that in reality only exist in our heads – they certainly aren’t visible from space.

This is most visible in the Church, and by that I mean the whole Church, the Body of Christ, the sum total of all the baptized, regardless of denomination. Why do we have so many denominations? What issues separate us? What causes us to call someone else a heretic and condemn them? What right do we have to do so?

Today’s Gospel gives us a powerful counterpoint. Jesus prays to God the Father that we should all be one, just as He and the Father are one. I would ask you to consider something you may not have thought of before: Maybe we are all one already. Only we are too blind to see it. We have placed ourselves inside our four little walls, and are comfortable with that holier-than-thou feeling that we’ve got it right, while the Roman Catholics or the Methodists or the Lutherans or the Orthodox or the Calvinists or whoever have it all wrong. The prison has become our home.

But we are all one through our baptism. The Bible makes no other definition. You are part of the Body of Christ as soon as you are baptized, no matter who performs that baptism. Certainly I believe that the Church has and should have a Catholic essence, I believe in honoring and maintaining Catholic tradition, I cherish the Church Fathers and so on. But I question whether the Church is truly divided, just because we human beings say it is. We invent hurdles to trip up others, be it transubstantiation, the apostolic succession, teachings on justification, on the proper interpretation of the Bible, women’s ordination, homosexuality, and no doubt someday we’ll end up arguing over whether Jesus was left-handed or right-handed and whether He buttered His toast on the top or the bottom.

Are all these things really that trivial? Many self-defined true believers would have you believe it. We have to be separate from all those others because...well, just because. Each of these bits of doctrine – or more precisely the abuse of them to sow discord and disunity – is another brick in the wall of our prison.

The point of dogma and doctrine is not to divide, but to unite. To invite, not force out. Christ wants us to be one, and indeed we are one – only we are so petty and short-sighted that we can’t see it, and come up with ever more inventive ways to stay in our prison home.

We can, however, be free of all of that, by thinking outside these walls that divide us, and not letting them get in the way of our love for God and one another. The prison is not our home. The love of God is. Amen.

Queens and quandaries: Sermon for Palm Sunday, Year C

Luke 19:28-40, Psalm 118:1-2+19-29, Isaiah 50:4-9a, Psalm 31:9-16, Philippians 2:5-11, Luke 23:1-49

When I was planning today’s service, one particular phrase leapt out at me. I’m a bit of a history junkie, particularly for English history; those of you familiar with English history may well have thought the same thing when hearing that particular phrase.

The phrase I have in mind is in the psalm we heard as we processed into the chapel, Psalm 118. The phrase is, “This is the LORD’s doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes.”

Legend has it that this was uttered by Princess Elizabeth, upon hearing that her Catholic sister Queen Mary had died, thus making Elizabeth Queen of England. There is a special resonance to them for Elizabeth, because during her sister’s reign, Elizabeth was a constant potential rival, as Protestants in England repeatedly started uprisings to overthrow Mary and install Elizabeth on the throne. Mary repeatedly and openly considered executing her own sister, to protect the Catholic faith in England. Elizabeth had to constantly swear her loyalty and grovel before her sister to spare her own life. So with Mary’s death, Elizabeth must have felt immensely relieved – while also facing the enormous burden of ruling a deeply divided England, at war with itself over religion.

I admire Elizabeth a great deal (though I should add that my daughter having that name is actually a coincidence). You see, most people, when thinking about the Church of England, think of her father, Henry VIII. But in reality Henry, aside from severing ties to the Pope, left little trace of influence on what Anglicanism became. His son Edward VI (again the name is a coincidence, I swear) tried to radically Protestantize the church; Mary succeeded him and re-catholicized it, reversing everything her father and brother had done; and finally came Elizabeth. More than anyone else, Queen Elizabeth I left her mark on the church. “This is the LORD’s doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes.”

The reason Elizabeth’s words resonate with me is because of her vision of the Church. She felt strongly that Christians should be united in one church, and also saw that the only way to do so was to tread the Via Media – the middle path between Catholic and Protestant, uniting the best of both. To this day we say of ourselves, we are Catholic and reformed.

There is a short poem attributed to Elizabeth that sums up her pragmatic way of seeing Truth in competing visions. It is about the Real Presence in the Eucharist, and goes like this:

“’Twas Christ the Word that spake it,
The same took bread and brake it,
And as the Word did make it,
That I believe and take it.”

In other words, if you believe Christ is truly present, if you appreciate the dignity of the sacrament of Communion, then you are welcome at the table.

This vision of unity, sadly, came at a price – many people resisted it, from both extremes of the spectrum. The Puritans and Pilgrims regarded anything remotely Catholic as being work of the devil; the Catholics despaired of restoring ties to Rome and the wider church, while also despairing of a more vigorous sacramental theology that they felt was lacking in the Church of England. There were still uprisings, there was still conflict, there were even plots to assassinate Elizabeth from both sides. In the end, all had to make sacrifices in order to live with the compromise that the Church of England became, which was in turn passed on to all other Anglican churches worldwide.

Elizabeth’s vision remains important even today. The Via Media, I think, offers the only hope of reconciliation of all Christians around the globe. It is more important than ever to try and find this middle path, to unite as many people as possible. The Anglican Communion is, of course, currently rocked by anger and division over teachings revolving around human sexuality, particularly homosexuality. It is also struggling with the bait placed in front of Anglo-Catholics by Rome, to lure them into a uniate Anglican church in submission to the Pope. The centrifugal forces at work are enormous. Particularly the strife over homosexuality is painful and difficult, with accusations of heresy and intolerance flying around. People claiming to be Christian seem to have nothing better to do that self-righteously hurl insults at each other. But the thing is, we all – regardless of our denominations – have a duty to try and bridge these differences, and to be united in Christ. Whether we like it or not, we need each other – Evangelical and Catholic, liberal and conservative, high church and low church. Each bit of the immense spectrum of Anglicanism carries a bit of the full picture of Christianity within, and each bit has something to contribute. Indeed Anglicanism mirrors the Church as a whole, covering the range from Catholicism to a diluted form of Calvinism.

So if we are to fulfill Christ’s final plea as He prayed in the garden of Gethsemane, “that they may all be one”, then we have to accept that we all, each and every one of us, have a place in the Body of Christ – and that means being willing to compromise, to sacrifice things we may hold dear in the name of greater unity. We cannot expect the Other to make the first step; we have to individually all make first steps, to build trust, to recognize the fullness of faith in all corners of the Church, whether Catholic or Protestant or Orthodox or indeed Old Catholic.

Recently I attended an Anglican conference in Düsseldorf. As it happens, I would place myself squarely in the liberal side of things regarding sexuality and women’s ordination; I would also place myself squarely in the high church Anglo-Catholic wing of Anglicanism. But at this conference, the range of Anglicans represented was huge. The church itself in Düsseldorf was a good example – as I entered, I noticed there was no altar, just a table; and on the table, nothing except a huge Bible. No tabernacle or aumbry, either. It doesn’t get much more low church and evangelical than that.

In particular there was a fellow there I had heard about, the rector of a particularly conservative evangelical parish here in Germany. Indeed he and his parish are so angry about the liberal drift in parts of Anglicanism that they no longer call themselves “Anglican”, and have resigned their official representation at Anglican conferences (while still being observers). I had visited their website a few times, and my curiosity was piqued, particularly by the profile of the rector, who is originally a white African from Malawi, of English extraction.

It so happens that he and I ended up riding next to each other in the car to the station, and then taking the same train (he had to pass through Hannover to get to his home parish). So I struck up a conversation, and we talked about church politics.

The thing is, we come from opposite ends of the spectrum. He favors things that I disapprove of, like lay presidency at the Eucharist; he disapproves of my stance on homosexuality and the catholicity of the Church. Conservative evangelical versus liberal Anglo-Catholic. But he is a good case in point for what I am talking about, in that we need each other. He is vehemently against homosexuality. But he is also not a wild-eyed lunatic. He, like everyone else, is a rational human being, searching for the truth as best as he can. I am certainly no better than he is – we are both sinners, we both have our flaws, and we both admit that freely. And in spite of our disagreements, we both showed a generosity of spirit towards one another that is sadly lacking in the whole debate storming the Church worldwide. Meanwhile his parish is flourishing, attracting more people to Jesus. Obviously we need more like him, just as we’re doing our best here to build up the Church in Hannover. We need each other to win as many people as possible for the Gospel, because in the Holy Church of God, we have – and I say this with great conviction – the last, best hope for humanity to save itself, with God’s help.

This means we all have to be ready to make sacrifices. We have to tolerate other opinions, even ones as wildly different as those between myself and my fellow train passenger, even if those opinions may seem to us intolerant or even heretical. We have to each make the first step in de-poisoning the debate, to raise the level of the rhetoric, to love those we agree with, but more importantly, to love our enemies and make them friends. We can and must reconcile with one another, even if it takes painful sacrifices.

This is particularly true as we celebrate Palm Sunday. Jesus went to Jerusalem riding a colt through a certain gate as a way of proclaiming Himself the Messiah, by deliberately echoing a messianic prophecy. He was in effect throwing down the gauntlet to the High Priests and King Herod, knowing full well what the result would be – his certain death. They chose a particularly horrific way of killing him, by lashing him with whips, by ramming a crown of thorns on his head, by mocking him, spitting on him, then driving nails through his hands and feet to let him hang there to die, in public and in the deepest humiliation. Even his fellow victims mocked him as he hung there. Jesus despaired of the Father leaving him: Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachtani – my God, my God, why have you forsaken me? I can’t imagine a greater sacrifice than what Jesus did, and He knew in advance that all this would happen – yet he didn’t turn back from His course. He experienced the full measure of human pain and suffering – being completely alone, lost in the world, abandoned to die. He made the ultimate sacrifice.

So if we are to fulfill His vision – that we may all be one – we must all be ready to sacrifice, to compromise, to see value in other opinions and love those whom we disagree with. The divisions in the Holy Church are entirely of our own doing, a sign of our own fallen nature – but in reality we are united in one baptism and one faith, whether we are Anglican, Old Catholic, Orthodox, Roman Catholic, Methodist, Lutheran, Baptist and many other denominations aside. The Body of Christ is one and holy, incapable of being divided – only we fail to see past our own prejudices and wishes, and perceive division, even inventing discord in order to justify our own church’s right to exist.

In other words, we must return to Queen Elizabeth’s holy vision, the Middle Way that accommodates everyone in the Body of Christ. One baptism, one faith, one Lord. Once we escape our own self-imposed limitations, once we tear down the walls of our own making, and open ourselves to the Christ present in the hearts of all of us, then God can work His wonders through us – and we can all say, “This is the LORD’s doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes”. Amen.