Reasonable Service

It's been a busy week on the Greater Anglican blogosphere. Or at least the little corners I visit. Scotist has been regaling us with his thoughts on the catechism and on the Prayer of Humble Access. I remain unconvinced that Atonement Theory is an utterly and irredeemably bad thing, since my theology is strongly driven by Christ as sacrificial victim (and victor). Gaunilo is done his exams and is moving onto some research (as am I, but I'm a climatologist after all). Geekboi has found new love, making me mildly envious. Joe and Karen have been instilling hope of generous Anglican orthodoxy in the wake of the unpleasantness. And Lutherpunk has gone into a frenzy of buying liturgical resources from the Continuum. Even Rev. Canon Dr. Harmon has been posting more "No Comment"'s and "From the Do Not Take Yourself Seriously Department"'s. Now if only the gracious mercies of Christ would keep *C and C in unity and freedom from scandal, Kizzy (filia Anastasiae of In Saecula Saeculorum) in the toddler analog of the peace which passeth all understanding, and Derek from the dual perils of transit strikes and ice storms, the Holy Brothers could sleep in peace themselves. Two days until the O Antiphons!

And Now For Something Completely Different

Last night, I finished the last volume of Neal Stephenson's Baroque Cycle , The System of the World . These are splendid books: fine companions to my obsession with the Scientific Revolution and even better than Pears' An Instance of the Fingerpost , because Stephenson mixes in a little fantasy. The end of the book is spectacular, containing two wonderful epigraphs:

The first is Romans 12:1, "I beseech you, Brethren, by the Mercies of God, that you present your bodies a Living Sacrifice, Holy, Acceptable unto God; which is your Reasonable Service ( logike latria in Greek)." It prefaces a character's visit to Newgate Prison's chapel as a prisoner condemned to death for High Treason. The service of the day involves the Ordinary of Newgate preaching the message of Salvation with a coffin lying on the altar. When I look back at the Anglican past, I shudder sometimes at the very directness of the Church of England being used as an organ of the State, "The Powers Spiritual of the Realm" as Stephenson puts it. But in an age where the sword of justice was uncommonly sharp and so many were shown no mercy, the Church of England earnestly promoted Christian hope. The character in question has been told all his life of the evil of Anglican worship and finds the descriptions of the Dissenters he hung out with as a boy were correct but he does not share their judgements entirely.

The second is the speech of the Bell-Man of St. Sepulchre's (appropriately enough) to those condemned to die at Tyburn,

"All good people, pray heartily unto God for these poor Sinners, who now are going to their Death, for whom this great Bell doth toll. You that are condemned to die, repent with lamentable tears; ask Mercy of the Lord for the Salvation of your souls through the Merits, Death, and Passion of Jesus Christ, who now sits on the right Hand of God, to make intercession for as many of you as penitently return unto Him. Lord have Mercy upon you! Christ have Mercy upon you!"

We are told that St. Sepulchre used to be near the edge of the city and would be the last church people passed in former generations before reaching the execution grounds of Smithfield and Tyburn. The name of the church (i.e. Holy Sepulchre) should remind us that the closest of all flesh to Christ are those condemned to die. The innocent among them are most like Christ. The guilty (whether repentant or unrepentant) are like the two thieves condemned at his side. Christ shed his Blood so we and no one else ever would have excuse for the vengeance of blood. Thus, I usually think of Christ's Atonement not as sacrifice to God but as a sacrifice to primal necessity, as a sacrifice to all our lusts for vengeance and for power. Christ died for our sins, because of our sins, and to our sins. So when Tookie Williams came to that chamber in San Quentin, I hope that he thought to himself, "Remember me, Lord, when you come into your kingly power."

Jack Shaftoe, the condemned traitor of The System of the World , most interestingly muses on repentance thus:

But, in all seriousness, he thinks he might have repented. Something happened there, in truth. A sort of porticullis clanged down, severing the long, bad part of his life from a shorter and better part of it. It is all bound up, somehow, in that procedure of eating the coin of bread. But there is a powerful point to that rite, and he reckons it has something to do with a joining together, a sharing with everyone else who's ever accepted payment in that coinage, God's Legal Tender. In sum, Jack feels strangely one with all of Christendom this morning -- which is not by any means a familiar way for him to feel -- and Christendom seems to reciprocate those tender feelings, for all of it has turned out to see him off."

Stephenson is obsessed with money, especially as far as money is a medium of relationship between supposedly unrelated people. Money becomes a force tending toward social equality in Stephenson's Baroque world. A trend that even continues into the modern era in his earlier novels. For a condemned prisoner, money is a means toward decent treatment and even an easier death. Jack is condemned as a traitor for being a false coiner. Sometimes called the King of the Vagabonds, Jack's crime makes him a counterfeit king that falsifies a key means whereby the populace is joined to the Crown. False coining is a deep usurpation of the royal prerogative and thus was appropriately considered treason: an understanding Stephenson expounds upon implicitly throughout this book, juxtaposing Jack's execution with the Trial of the Pyx taking place across town and Jack's sentencing with the Coronation of King George I.

But Stephenson has surprising theological insight by thinking about currency as a medium of relationship and seeing Panis as Nummus. (You could go in very strange directions from here.) The Eucharist is not just about God's abundant love for us but also a sharing in the joyful love of God of Christians throughout the ages. It is an act of love from them which we, too, reciprocate, adding unceasingly to the infinite love of God. As Captain Sacrament would say, Jesus, "the image of the invisible God, is not my personal savior. Thankfully, He has saved many others whom I seek to know and be known by through Him. And this is a comfort, for there are few burdens that are not known to the communion of saints. For since they are a kingdoms of priests from all the peoples of the earth (and more, I suspect), the very fullness of humanity is seen in the Body of Christ. And to those who seek Christ earnestly, know that they're all rooting for you.

Until next time, the Holy Brothers pray that you may hereafter live a godly, righteous, and sober life to the honor and glory of our only Mediator and Advocate Jesus Christ with the Father and the Holy Ghost, world without end.