No Treasure but the Gospel
Last week, the Anglican Church of Canada was rocked by a report that the last member would leave the church by 2040. Decline in church membership is nothing new to Anglican Church of Canada. There has been a steady decline in this denomination since our apogee in 1961, decreasing from 1.2 million adherents to just over 300k today. But for a denomination that was the third largest in Canada for most of its history, it is difficult to come to terms with the news that the institution will flatline within a generation if nothing changes.
Of course, this report is, at least in part, a trick of how statistical modelling works. It is unlikely that many of the young families who still call Anglicanism home will somehow disappear in the next 20 years, but given that the overall demographic of the denomination skews elderly, it is not preposterous to suppose that many parishes will be closing their doors in the coming years.
As a postulant for ordination in priestly ministry, and a PhD student in Theology, my first reaction was frankly, a bit of panic. Is it sane for me to be spending the entirety of my twenties and the better part of $200k on theological education for hopes of a career in an institution that will likely be broke by the time I'm 40? It's all well and good to make vague pronouncements about the Spirit leading us into new futures and the transforming nature of the church to gin up some false hope, but the reality is, all traditions are carried forward by institutions, and institutions require external goods such as donors and some minimal property if they are to meaningfully exist.
But what is the nature of the Church's property? This is not a new debate for the church. Beginning in the 11th century, the Church, seeking to free itself from the interference of secular princes caused by the feudal system, began to acquire massive amounts of property in an attempt to guarantee its own sovereignty and provide a clear future for its mission. Over the next few centuries, papal power increased as the wealth of the church exploded. This culminated in an epic showdown between Pope Boniface VIII and Philip IV of France wherein Giles of Rome declared that the pontiff had supreme legal ownership over all worldly possessions. Of course, this did not go over very well, either within the church, nor among the secular princes of Europe (Joan Lockwood O’Donovan, "Christian Platonism and Non-Proprietary Community" in Bonds of Imperfection, 73-96).
However, this acquisitive dominion was not the only, nor, we should say, best conception of property ownership on offer within Christian theology at the time. Within the Church, the papists received massive push-back from the Franciscan spiritualists, many of whom were looking for ways to maintain the apostolic poverty that St. Francis had practiced and advocated for their order. Eventually, these resistance movements produced John Wyclif's formulation of an evangelical dominion founded on the non-possessive use of property. For Wyclif, the use of our possessions is always disciplined by the reality that all that we have and use is properly communicated to us all, universally, by Christ's own prior lordship. Adamic dominion, therefore, is not the usurping of Christ's own dominion, but rather the communication to us of the rights of use of all creation because, properly speaking, all that is and moves and has its being does so in Christ's own dominion of creation. Therefore, none of us is the source of our own dominion or possession of worldly goods, we have this dominion only and always by virtue of our radical equality before Christ's own dominion.
Christ's communication of dominion to us reveals the nature of that dominion. For this communication is not an absolute bestowal, what is his does not become ours such that it ceases to be his. Rather, this communication of dominion goes from being his to ours in a collective sense, thus our dominion is because of and rests in Christ's own never-ending dominion. Therefore, the nature of this dominion is not that of self-possessive dominion, what is mine is in fact ours.
But what does this mean in practice? Well, for Wyclif this meant that our use of personal material property is not an absolute dominion. For just as our dominion is derived from Christ's spiritual dominion, so too is the use of divisible material goods derived from our possession of indivisible spiritual goods. And what are these indivisible spiritual goods? Well, as Oliver O'Donovan reminds us in Ways of Judgement, they are things like the preached Word of the Gospel (271). For a word proclaimed does not pass from my possession to yours, but instead is multiplied, that word is now both mine and yours - a true ours. The gospel preached, far from being divided up, stored away, and diminished, instead grows and mulitplies in its proclamation. This, finally, is the true treasure of the Church, and it comes, as does all else that we have, from the gracious lordship of Christ.
And herein lies my hope, however slim it is, for the future of the Anglican Church of Canada. Our denomination has had the mixed blessing of being wealthy and powerful for most of its existence. There has not been a time in Canadian history, until quite recently, that the Anglican Church has not enjoyed a close relationship with the elite of Canadian society. But that time is gone, and it is not likely to return. The church was able to do much good, and was complicit in much evil during that time, but now, God has graciously lead us back to a reckoning with the nature of our own poverty, and we are given a chance to identify the true treasure of our faith. The divisible goods of the Anglican church, our beautiful buildings, our universities, our charitable organizations and foundations, these can, and perhaps will pass away. But these goods are always already subordinate to the one indivisible treasure of the church, the Gospel of Christ. As I look forward to the future of my vocation, I see only that possession which does not diminish in its giving away. Thanks be to God.
Of course, this report is, at least in part, a trick of how statistical modelling works. It is unlikely that many of the young families who still call Anglicanism home will somehow disappear in the next 20 years, but given that the overall demographic of the denomination skews elderly, it is not preposterous to suppose that many parishes will be closing their doors in the coming years.
As a postulant for ordination in priestly ministry, and a PhD student in Theology, my first reaction was frankly, a bit of panic. Is it sane for me to be spending the entirety of my twenties and the better part of $200k on theological education for hopes of a career in an institution that will likely be broke by the time I'm 40? It's all well and good to make vague pronouncements about the Spirit leading us into new futures and the transforming nature of the church to gin up some false hope, but the reality is, all traditions are carried forward by institutions, and institutions require external goods such as donors and some minimal property if they are to meaningfully exist.
But what is the nature of the Church's property? This is not a new debate for the church. Beginning in the 11th century, the Church, seeking to free itself from the interference of secular princes caused by the feudal system, began to acquire massive amounts of property in an attempt to guarantee its own sovereignty and provide a clear future for its mission. Over the next few centuries, papal power increased as the wealth of the church exploded. This culminated in an epic showdown between Pope Boniface VIII and Philip IV of France wherein Giles of Rome declared that the pontiff had supreme legal ownership over all worldly possessions. Of course, this did not go over very well, either within the church, nor among the secular princes of Europe (Joan Lockwood O’Donovan, "Christian Platonism and Non-Proprietary Community" in Bonds of Imperfection, 73-96).
However, this acquisitive dominion was not the only, nor, we should say, best conception of property ownership on offer within Christian theology at the time. Within the Church, the papists received massive push-back from the Franciscan spiritualists, many of whom were looking for ways to maintain the apostolic poverty that St. Francis had practiced and advocated for their order. Eventually, these resistance movements produced John Wyclif's formulation of an evangelical dominion founded on the non-possessive use of property. For Wyclif, the use of our possessions is always disciplined by the reality that all that we have and use is properly communicated to us all, universally, by Christ's own prior lordship. Adamic dominion, therefore, is not the usurping of Christ's own dominion, but rather the communication to us of the rights of use of all creation because, properly speaking, all that is and moves and has its being does so in Christ's own dominion of creation. Therefore, none of us is the source of our own dominion or possession of worldly goods, we have this dominion only and always by virtue of our radical equality before Christ's own dominion.
Christ's communication of dominion to us reveals the nature of that dominion. For this communication is not an absolute bestowal, what is his does not become ours such that it ceases to be his. Rather, this communication of dominion goes from being his to ours in a collective sense, thus our dominion is because of and rests in Christ's own never-ending dominion. Therefore, the nature of this dominion is not that of self-possessive dominion, what is mine is in fact ours.
But what does this mean in practice? Well, for Wyclif this meant that our use of personal material property is not an absolute dominion. For just as our dominion is derived from Christ's spiritual dominion, so too is the use of divisible material goods derived from our possession of indivisible spiritual goods. And what are these indivisible spiritual goods? Well, as Oliver O'Donovan reminds us in Ways of Judgement, they are things like the preached Word of the Gospel (271). For a word proclaimed does not pass from my possession to yours, but instead is multiplied, that word is now both mine and yours - a true ours. The gospel preached, far from being divided up, stored away, and diminished, instead grows and mulitplies in its proclamation. This, finally, is the true treasure of the Church, and it comes, as does all else that we have, from the gracious lordship of Christ.
And herein lies my hope, however slim it is, for the future of the Anglican Church of Canada. Our denomination has had the mixed blessing of being wealthy and powerful for most of its existence. There has not been a time in Canadian history, until quite recently, that the Anglican Church has not enjoyed a close relationship with the elite of Canadian society. But that time is gone, and it is not likely to return. The church was able to do much good, and was complicit in much evil during that time, but now, God has graciously lead us back to a reckoning with the nature of our own poverty, and we are given a chance to identify the true treasure of our faith. The divisible goods of the Anglican church, our beautiful buildings, our universities, our charitable organizations and foundations, these can, and perhaps will pass away. But these goods are always already subordinate to the one indivisible treasure of the church, the Gospel of Christ. As I look forward to the future of my vocation, I see only that possession which does not diminish in its giving away. Thanks be to God.
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