Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Hands

This past Sunday Jen and I were blessed to participate in the ordination of two good friends. Phil and Becky Pratt have been companions on the journey since entering Seminary the same year as Jen. To see them accept a call to co-pastor a congregation in New Jersey is a joy. To be in the circle that laid hands on them and affirmed them as Ministers of Word and Sacrament was shear beauty.

It's a weird thing, the laying on of hands. I remember watching the process each year as a young boy at New Era Reformed Church. I can even dredge up a memory of the morning my father was ordained as an Elder to serve that community. I was utterly baffled by the whole thing. A whole bunch of men and a few women walking forward and placing their hands on my father and on each other. I knew it had to be important, in part because only something significant could get a bunch of conservative old Dutchmen to touch each other, but more so because even as a child I could sense the gravity of the situation.

I doubt I really understood how heavy that gravity was until September 9th, 2006, the day that I knelt on the steps of New Era Reformed Church's sanctuary and felt the weight of those hands. After the invitation was given I remember watching one person after another rise from their seats and come forward. Dear friends and classmates, significant mentors and teachers, men and women who have tended to my soul along the way, and even some of the same men and women I watched being ordained as a child, my father included.

As they gathered around and placed heavy hands on my head and shoulders I not only felt the weight of those standing in the sanctuary, I also felt the weight of the hands that had been laid on them, and the hands that were laid on their parents. I remember being overwhelmed by the awareness that I was taking my place in an unbroken chain of hands that stretched back 2000 years to Paul who encourage Timothy not to neglect the gift that was in him, which was given through the laying on of hands by the council of elders.

I also remember thinking that under the accumulating cloud of witnessing hands, each ordination carries more weight than the last. I will never be able to shrug that weight of responsibility off my shoulders, nor would I want to (at least today I don't want to). That gathering was one of the most powerful experiences of my life, one that has become formative. It was in that moment I truly realized that I was not "ready" or "prepared" for the office I was ordained to, I was submitting myself to be shaped and formed by the office.

And every time I ordain elders and deacons at Servant's, or participate in the ordination of friends and colleagues as ministers I am drawn back to my own ordination, the vows I made and the weight of the hands.

So why am I writing at length about my own experience of ordination? Because it is something I carry mixed emotions about. I can't deny it's power and formative effect on my life, and I will never try to. But I can't help but wonder if by affirming the gifts of some members we neglect the gifts of others in the Body.

I mean, the vows I made - to devote myself to scripture as the rule and guide of my life, to give myself to the building up of the body, to serve faithfully, diligently and joyfully, to seek the things that make for unity, purity and peace - are not these the vows that every follower of Jesus should be making and living by?

Shouldn't every disciple locate themselves in an unbroken chain of life and witness that stretches 2000 years back to those first Jesus preaching, captive freeing apostles? Shouldn't every member of the Body live with a profound sense of weight and responsibility for continuing the witness and worship of God in the world that he is reconciling back to himself?

Interestingly I am not alone in the Reformed tradition with that concern. I decided to do some homework while I was working on this blog post and went straight to the roots of my tradition, John Calvin. During the Reformation Calvin, among others, wanted to root the sacraments of the church in scripture. If there is no biblical call to a specific action it isn't a sacrament. In the end the 7 sacraments of the Catholic Church became the Two that we still hold today, baptism and the Lord's Supper.

But few people know that there was almost a third in Calvin's Geneva. Ordination. Here is what he had to say. "As far as the true office of presbyter (or elder) is concerned, which is commended to us by Christ’s lips, I willingly accord that place [that is, the ‘title of sacrament’] to it. For in it there is a ceremony, first taken from Scripture, then one that Paul testifies not to be empty or superfluous, but a faithful token of spiritual grace (I Timothy 4:14). However, I have not put it as number three among the sacraments because it is not ordinary or common with all believers, but is a special rite for a particular office” (Institutes 4.19.28).


How interesting is that? Calvin didn't do away with ordination by the laying on of hands, in fact it was something that carried huge weight in Geneva where church and state weren't all that separate. But he didn't afford it the title "sacrament" specifically because it was not something shared by all believers. Although he affirmed the authority of the clergy/elders he was always mindful of the implication their role had for the "priesthood of all believers", and when it was all said and done it was the priesthood of all believers that determined what was a sacrament and what was not.

In the end I suppose it is a tension I live with. On the one hand I see the biblical roots of authority being passed down to leaders in the church to provide for guidance and sound instruction. And I am constantly humbled and honored by my place in that chain.

On the other hand I believe with all that I am that the ministry of the church belongs to the whole body and can't shake the fear that my ordination may stand as a barrier to every member sharing in the weight of our common call.

Enough from me. Now it's your turn to weigh in. How does affirming the gifts of some in this significant way affect the ministry of the whole church?

1 Comments:

At 8:44 AM , Blogger karen said...

It's OK to hold things in tension. It is difficult, won't kill us, and will make us stronger! (I have more of a problem with titles than ordination.....ordination is just a one time event to recognize leaders-in my mind anyway. Using a title in front of someone's name, day in and day out, to me that is more "elevating". Am I the only person besides Don and Ed who feels this way?)

You write such long thoughtful posts and I am so short and to the point. We've been reading about the tension for so many years that when I read what you have written, all I can do is be glad of your realization of the tension, which I have been able to pick up on all along since I have known you at Servants.

The part of this blog that I want to address is the analogy of the chain (or is it metaphor, sorry, not studied in literature). I wonder if any picture that shows touching parts would work. For you it is links in a chain. For me it is dominos. I see myself as a domino, stood up on end in the middle of a row of twisting turning dominos. God kicks off history by pushing on Adam. And so redemptive history is off and "running". If I do not play my part in history, history is going to be changed. Yes, the kingdom is going to come regardless BUT who might be left out if I don't stay in the line and fall over onto the next domino. I know this analogy breaks down theologically (and even logically, afterall, how do the dominos continue falling once someone doesn't play their part?)


There are things I am coming to appreciate about the Reformed tradition, and being a part of church history is one of them!

 

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