You may choose to listen to a an old, somewhat restored, audio tape made by Father Ben, or read the transcript provided below or download it as a PDF. Enjoy
Press to play
Many years ago a young pre-seminary female Episcopalian
asked Ben to share his thoughts with her on the priesthood
and on religion. It's a wonderful bottom-up and top-down
perspective. Sometimes wry, sometimes amusing, but always
a deeply loving perspective worth your listen.
_
When I started
thinking about this business of priesthood—months and months and months ago, I
realized what I think, what the Church thinks, and what the New Testament
thinks may be different.Yes, and what God thinks is probably
different still.
Well, now, where does one go from there? I suppose what I think isn’t very important and what God thinks, nobody really knows. So that reduces us to what the Church thinks and what the New Testament thinks. And, since we’re in the Church, let’s begin with that.
What the Church thinks seems to me to be shown conclusively by its practice and the practice of the Church is in terms of an ontological, sacerdotal priesthood. Ontological because holy orders are indelible. One may be deposed; one may be excommunicated; one may be damned and go to hell; one is still a priest. If one is brought back to life and forgiven; if one has the ban of excommunication and deposition lifted; one is not restored to priesthood. Priesthood was never lost. What is restored is one’s right to exercise priesthood in the Church. Priesthood is ontological.
Sacerdotal? There are things the priest can do which no one else can do except, of course, the Bishop. A priest can pronounce absolution and blessings. He can anoint with oil except in certain instances reserved to the Bishop. And, above all, the priest can celebrate the Eucharist. Now, the interesting thing is, none of this is backed up by the New Testament. The word “priest” is used in regards to our Lord’s priesthood and the priesthood of all believers. Apart from that, it is not used. There is no separate order of priests in the New Testament Church. The word is “elder.” Elders are apparently set apart, apparently to assist the Bishops in the administration of local Churches, of which case they probably were to do pretty much what directors of the parishes are supposed to do today. But there is no reference to any sacerdotal powers with the possible exception that, if there are sick among you, let them call in the elders of the Church who will anoint the sick with oil.
What is an elder supposed to do besides administer? Well, according to Saint Paul, he is supposed to do the work of an evangelist. To exhort, to approve and generally preach and get people to repent and believe, and so forth. If they follow Saint Paul’s injunction to the letter, they would probably be, as he was himself, somewhat unpleasant people to have around. But one must remember that in the new days of the New Testament Church, there was a certain sense of urgency which does not exist today nearly 2,000 years later. It was believed—and our Lord made the same mistake Himself—that His second coming was imminent. It could happen not just any day, but any hour or any minute. And, if that was true, while Saint Paul said it’s all right to marry if you have to, really, if our Lord is going to be here any minute, it might be wiser to concentrate on that rather than to get embroiled with the responsibilities and cares of marital and family life, and so on. One can see his point.
Today, there is not quite that sense of urgency among most of us. Although it’s curious that throughout history people have found in world phenomenon indications that the Lord was coming: wars, rumors of war, earthquakes, and volcanic eruptions, and all sorts of things. And, over and over again, the dates have been set and gone by. We still have that today, particularly among fundamentalists and such people as Jehovah Witnesses and so on. Every once in awhile, we get somebody here at the Oratory who comes from a fundamentalist background and says, “Are we in the last days,” and will bring forth things from the newspapers to indicate that it is so: earthquakes hurricanes, cyclones, wars, rumors of war, and all the rest. While the only answer to that is, yes, of course, we are in the last days. We have been in the last days ever since the first one. The only trouble is that nobody knows exactly how long the last days are going to last.
Well, apart from that, one other thing that the elder is supposed to do is to carry on a prophetic ministry. This means preaching. And this brings me to a difficult problem. We’re told that the mainline Churches are losing people, but that the fundamentalists—Jehovah Witnesses, particularly; the Assembly of God; and such like—are gaining and are growing. And I sort of wonder why. And this brings up something that really bothers me.
I want to tell the story: One day, Charles Wesley and a young divinity student were walking through the Billingsgate area of London when a local fishwife started lacing down her neighbor in the language that has made the area famous. The young divinity student tugged at Wesley’s sleeve and said, “Come, sir; come, sir. Let’s get out of here.“ And Wesley said, “No, son, stop and listen and learn how to preach.“ I like that story because, of course, what Wesley was referring to was the fervency behind the fishwife’s diatribe. But there’s something else in It and this is the part that bothers me. It was negative. She was lacing somebody down. I was told once by a rather prominent Baptist fundamentalist layman, that it is the job of the preacher to preach against sin. Curiously enough, not to preach in favor of anything, but to preach against sin. And I have heard quite a few of these so-called evangelical fundamentalist preachers do just that. And they do not do it from the point of view that sin is harmful and can hurt people. They do it almost entirely on the basis of fear of the wrath of God. Fear.
There is an automobile came out of an evangelical camp meeting place one time and it had a bumper sticker on it which said, “Read the Holy Bible. It will scare the hell out of you.“ That seems to be the basis on which so much preaching is done. Scare the hell out of people. Just preach hellfire and damnation and avoid sin, not because it hurts people but, because if you don’t, you’ll go to hell. And, as a result, Churches that do that are the ones that seem to be growing.
I wonder sometimes if we could be as enthusiastic about the love of God as they are about the wrath of God; whether it might make a difference. But the thing that bothers me is, I really wonder, if loving the hell out of people would be more successful than scaring it out. Fear seems to be a great, a more effective motivator than love.
I know a woman who was prominent in the Communist Party. And she told me one time, she said, “You can talk all you like about love but, if you want to get anything done, that’s not the dynamic you use. You have a plant where the workers are getting a raw deal. Do you go to the workers and say, ‘Now, let’s all love the boss and go and reason with him?” You know perfectly well that, if you do, you’re not going to get anywhere. No, no, you organize the plant on the basis of, ‘Let’s hate the Boss.’ The so-and-so is getting away… They’re making money hand over fist and he’s giving you and me a raw deal. Now, we’ll go in and tell him, ‘Listen, you, if you don’t come across with what we want, we’ll go on strike and raise cane with your business.’ Well, now, we may get all we want but believe we will get concessions.” The dynamic of hate. The dynamic of fear. Why is it that it seems to be so much more effective a motivator than love. I can’t believe that in the long run it is. But what is it that seems to make it so? What is it that keeps some of these birds on television going? Is it love? No. It’s fear. But it seems to me that that’s not …that is more contrary to the New Testament than any kind of an idea of sacerdotal priesthood. Our God is a God of love. And it seems to me that we ought to be able to be as enthusiastic about it, to mean it, to preach it, and above all, at least to try to live it.
Now, that brings us to another thing: how do you see the Church? I’m afraid—particularly in this country—that too many people see the Church as an ecclesiastical organization held together by the conformity of its members to a sometimes more and sometimes less but always somewhat legalistic system of doctrine, discipline, and worship. If that is true, as it is in the minds of so many, it can be a pretty pellagian kind of a thing. What you need to get it across is a hierarchy of people who are geniuses at public relations; people who are high pressure, successful salesman; and people with the administrative skills of a top flight, successful corporate executive. From a worldly point of view you’ve got it made, but what for? That’s not what the Church is. Definitely not. The Church as far as I can see is an incarnational organism. The organism is the body of Christ and we are members of that body. And if we are, then we are consequently and inescapably members one of another. Now this is not a pellagian kind of a thing; neither is it based on presumption…just sit on our rear ends and let God do it all. It takes an enormous amount of grace, but it also takes an enormous amount of human endeavor to make use of the grace that is offered to us.
It brings up a little formula that I have frequently used and invented: “I can’t without God, but God won’t without me.” Now what is it that I can or can’t do? Escape hell? Possibly. But that seems to me to be a kind of unworthy motivation. They tell the story: Saint John, in his old age, well off into seclusion. He was called back once a year to a big Church festival and asked to say a few words. He came back the first year and quoted his epistle and said, “Little children, love one another.“ He came back the second year and said, “Little children, love one another.“ He came back the third year and said, “Little children, love one another.” And when he came back the fourth year, they asked him, “Well don’t you have anything else to say?“ And he smiled and he said, “There isn’t anything else. “
Let’s think about that. We are told to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. Ummm, Ummm. How do we love ourselves? We are also told, you know, that self love is sinful. Is it? What do you mean by it? Too often we confuse self love as self indulgence, which is apt to be a relatively destructive thing. But loving one’s neighbor as oneself is sometimes interpreted in terms of the Golden Rule: do unto others as you would have others do unto you. Well, I guess, maybe, I have told you this before, but anyhow I would repeat it. What about to alcoholics buying each other drinks all night in the tavern? They’re obeying the Golden Rule to the letter and destroying themselves and each other in the process.
No, real love means the proper constructive and creative use…oh, not use; because we don’t use things…attention, consideration, concern, or something, as we should have that for ourselves because God made us. He loves us, He values us, and we should take care of what He has made. Then He says that ye love one another as I have loved you. That is a big order. And that is where grace comes in. And that is where our spiritual life becomes important. Because, remember, as Archbishop Temple has said, “It is not that conduct is important and prayer helps it, but that prayer is important and conduct tests it.“ It’s true. By their fruits ye shall know them. But you’ve got to be grafted to the tree in order to bear the fruit. The spiritual life is not what some people seem to think it is, something that’s going to make you feel good.
We have a woman that comes to the Oratory who says, “I love to meditate.“ And she does it as if she were going to bat the brains out of something or other. Oh, my, she does. She takes it seriously. Well, you know, really it doesn’t make much difference whether she loves it or not. The point is, does your meditation produce anything that anybody else can love? The purpose of a spiritual life is growth in godliness. And God is love.
The question I must ask myself: not am I getting consolations, am I getting visions, am I getting revelations, am I getting insights, am I feeling good? No, no. I am becoming more loving and more lovable? If I am, I’m walking the way of the Spirit. If I am not, then the foundation’s need some reexamination. And, you know, when you come right down to it, this is Christianity. It’s all there of it. Anything else is window dressing. Priesthood, what have you—legitimate window dressing perhaps—but window dressing nevertheless.
Yes, little children love one another. There really isn’t anything else to say, is there?
Well, now, where does one go from there? I suppose what I think isn’t very important and what God thinks, nobody really knows. So that reduces us to what the Church thinks and what the New Testament thinks. And, since we’re in the Church, let’s begin with that.
What the Church thinks seems to me to be shown conclusively by its practice and the practice of the Church is in terms of an ontological, sacerdotal priesthood. Ontological because holy orders are indelible. One may be deposed; one may be excommunicated; one may be damned and go to hell; one is still a priest. If one is brought back to life and forgiven; if one has the ban of excommunication and deposition lifted; one is not restored to priesthood. Priesthood was never lost. What is restored is one’s right to exercise priesthood in the Church. Priesthood is ontological.
Sacerdotal? There are things the priest can do which no one else can do except, of course, the Bishop. A priest can pronounce absolution and blessings. He can anoint with oil except in certain instances reserved to the Bishop. And, above all, the priest can celebrate the Eucharist. Now, the interesting thing is, none of this is backed up by the New Testament. The word “priest” is used in regards to our Lord’s priesthood and the priesthood of all believers. Apart from that, it is not used. There is no separate order of priests in the New Testament Church. The word is “elder.” Elders are apparently set apart, apparently to assist the Bishops in the administration of local Churches, of which case they probably were to do pretty much what directors of the parishes are supposed to do today. But there is no reference to any sacerdotal powers with the possible exception that, if there are sick among you, let them call in the elders of the Church who will anoint the sick with oil.
What is an elder supposed to do besides administer? Well, according to Saint Paul, he is supposed to do the work of an evangelist. To exhort, to approve and generally preach and get people to repent and believe, and so forth. If they follow Saint Paul’s injunction to the letter, they would probably be, as he was himself, somewhat unpleasant people to have around. But one must remember that in the new days of the New Testament Church, there was a certain sense of urgency which does not exist today nearly 2,000 years later. It was believed—and our Lord made the same mistake Himself—that His second coming was imminent. It could happen not just any day, but any hour or any minute. And, if that was true, while Saint Paul said it’s all right to marry if you have to, really, if our Lord is going to be here any minute, it might be wiser to concentrate on that rather than to get embroiled with the responsibilities and cares of marital and family life, and so on. One can see his point.
Today, there is not quite that sense of urgency among most of us. Although it’s curious that throughout history people have found in world phenomenon indications that the Lord was coming: wars, rumors of war, earthquakes, and volcanic eruptions, and all sorts of things. And, over and over again, the dates have been set and gone by. We still have that today, particularly among fundamentalists and such people as Jehovah Witnesses and so on. Every once in awhile, we get somebody here at the Oratory who comes from a fundamentalist background and says, “Are we in the last days,” and will bring forth things from the newspapers to indicate that it is so: earthquakes hurricanes, cyclones, wars, rumors of war, and all the rest. While the only answer to that is, yes, of course, we are in the last days. We have been in the last days ever since the first one. The only trouble is that nobody knows exactly how long the last days are going to last.
Well, apart from that, one other thing that the elder is supposed to do is to carry on a prophetic ministry. This means preaching. And this brings me to a difficult problem. We’re told that the mainline Churches are losing people, but that the fundamentalists—Jehovah Witnesses, particularly; the Assembly of God; and such like—are gaining and are growing. And I sort of wonder why. And this brings up something that really bothers me.
I want to tell the story: One day, Charles Wesley and a young divinity student were walking through the Billingsgate area of London when a local fishwife started lacing down her neighbor in the language that has made the area famous. The young divinity student tugged at Wesley’s sleeve and said, “Come, sir; come, sir. Let’s get out of here.“ And Wesley said, “No, son, stop and listen and learn how to preach.“ I like that story because, of course, what Wesley was referring to was the fervency behind the fishwife’s diatribe. But there’s something else in It and this is the part that bothers me. It was negative. She was lacing somebody down. I was told once by a rather prominent Baptist fundamentalist layman, that it is the job of the preacher to preach against sin. Curiously enough, not to preach in favor of anything, but to preach against sin. And I have heard quite a few of these so-called evangelical fundamentalist preachers do just that. And they do not do it from the point of view that sin is harmful and can hurt people. They do it almost entirely on the basis of fear of the wrath of God. Fear.
There is an automobile came out of an evangelical camp meeting place one time and it had a bumper sticker on it which said, “Read the Holy Bible. It will scare the hell out of you.“ That seems to be the basis on which so much preaching is done. Scare the hell out of people. Just preach hellfire and damnation and avoid sin, not because it hurts people but, because if you don’t, you’ll go to hell. And, as a result, Churches that do that are the ones that seem to be growing.
I wonder sometimes if we could be as enthusiastic about the love of God as they are about the wrath of God; whether it might make a difference. But the thing that bothers me is, I really wonder, if loving the hell out of people would be more successful than scaring it out. Fear seems to be a great, a more effective motivator than love.
I know a woman who was prominent in the Communist Party. And she told me one time, she said, “You can talk all you like about love but, if you want to get anything done, that’s not the dynamic you use. You have a plant where the workers are getting a raw deal. Do you go to the workers and say, ‘Now, let’s all love the boss and go and reason with him?” You know perfectly well that, if you do, you’re not going to get anywhere. No, no, you organize the plant on the basis of, ‘Let’s hate the Boss.’ The so-and-so is getting away… They’re making money hand over fist and he’s giving you and me a raw deal. Now, we’ll go in and tell him, ‘Listen, you, if you don’t come across with what we want, we’ll go on strike and raise cane with your business.’ Well, now, we may get all we want but believe we will get concessions.” The dynamic of hate. The dynamic of fear. Why is it that it seems to be so much more effective a motivator than love. I can’t believe that in the long run it is. But what is it that seems to make it so? What is it that keeps some of these birds on television going? Is it love? No. It’s fear. But it seems to me that that’s not …that is more contrary to the New Testament than any kind of an idea of sacerdotal priesthood. Our God is a God of love. And it seems to me that we ought to be able to be as enthusiastic about it, to mean it, to preach it, and above all, at least to try to live it.
Now, that brings us to another thing: how do you see the Church? I’m afraid—particularly in this country—that too many people see the Church as an ecclesiastical organization held together by the conformity of its members to a sometimes more and sometimes less but always somewhat legalistic system of doctrine, discipline, and worship. If that is true, as it is in the minds of so many, it can be a pretty pellagian kind of a thing. What you need to get it across is a hierarchy of people who are geniuses at public relations; people who are high pressure, successful salesman; and people with the administrative skills of a top flight, successful corporate executive. From a worldly point of view you’ve got it made, but what for? That’s not what the Church is. Definitely not. The Church as far as I can see is an incarnational organism. The organism is the body of Christ and we are members of that body. And if we are, then we are consequently and inescapably members one of another. Now this is not a pellagian kind of a thing; neither is it based on presumption…just sit on our rear ends and let God do it all. It takes an enormous amount of grace, but it also takes an enormous amount of human endeavor to make use of the grace that is offered to us.
It brings up a little formula that I have frequently used and invented: “I can’t without God, but God won’t without me.” Now what is it that I can or can’t do? Escape hell? Possibly. But that seems to me to be a kind of unworthy motivation. They tell the story: Saint John, in his old age, well off into seclusion. He was called back once a year to a big Church festival and asked to say a few words. He came back the first year and quoted his epistle and said, “Little children, love one another.“ He came back the second year and said, “Little children, love one another.“ He came back the third year and said, “Little children, love one another.” And when he came back the fourth year, they asked him, “Well don’t you have anything else to say?“ And he smiled and he said, “There isn’t anything else. “
Let’s think about that. We are told to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. Ummm, Ummm. How do we love ourselves? We are also told, you know, that self love is sinful. Is it? What do you mean by it? Too often we confuse self love as self indulgence, which is apt to be a relatively destructive thing. But loving one’s neighbor as oneself is sometimes interpreted in terms of the Golden Rule: do unto others as you would have others do unto you. Well, I guess, maybe, I have told you this before, but anyhow I would repeat it. What about to alcoholics buying each other drinks all night in the tavern? They’re obeying the Golden Rule to the letter and destroying themselves and each other in the process.
No, real love means the proper constructive and creative use…oh, not use; because we don’t use things…attention, consideration, concern, or something, as we should have that for ourselves because God made us. He loves us, He values us, and we should take care of what He has made. Then He says that ye love one another as I have loved you. That is a big order. And that is where grace comes in. And that is where our spiritual life becomes important. Because, remember, as Archbishop Temple has said, “It is not that conduct is important and prayer helps it, but that prayer is important and conduct tests it.“ It’s true. By their fruits ye shall know them. But you’ve got to be grafted to the tree in order to bear the fruit. The spiritual life is not what some people seem to think it is, something that’s going to make you feel good.
We have a woman that comes to the Oratory who says, “I love to meditate.“ And she does it as if she were going to bat the brains out of something or other. Oh, my, she does. She takes it seriously. Well, you know, really it doesn’t make much difference whether she loves it or not. The point is, does your meditation produce anything that anybody else can love? The purpose of a spiritual life is growth in godliness. And God is love.
The question I must ask myself: not am I getting consolations, am I getting visions, am I getting revelations, am I getting insights, am I feeling good? No, no. I am becoming more loving and more lovable? If I am, I’m walking the way of the Spirit. If I am not, then the foundation’s need some reexamination. And, you know, when you come right down to it, this is Christianity. It’s all there of it. Anything else is window dressing. Priesthood, what have you—legitimate window dressing perhaps—but window dressing nevertheless.
Yes, little children love one another. There really isn’t anything else to say, is there?