So, we have Jeremy over at novus lumen announcing theological differences as his end, and Sarah at Emerging Mummy finally giving up on the conversation after being a part for a long time. Andrew Jones had his famous death of emerging post late last year.

Personally speaking, I’ve never been more excited about the future of the church, and this is due to what I see as a developing theology as framed by emerging church values.

I don’t think the emerging church is dying or over. Theology aside for the moment–if this is possible–there are other issues at work.

First, and maybe foremost, in our day and age there is significant dissatisfaction of traditional forms of church. This is not necessarily new, but what is new is the increased awareness that the pursuit of Christ does not equal participation in any given traditional expression of church.

There are a lot of people who really seek Christ, who have been absolutely burned or undermined in this pursuit by church experiences. Indeed, I would add to this the argument that for the most part churches are very good about leading Christians to a mid-range level of maturity, past which they offer very little support or guidance. Those who seek a deeper level either pursue the ministry and lead a church or such people leave the church often thinking they have reached the end of Christian theology altogether. They see the end of what the church can teach as the whole of what theology has to offer. There is no monastic opportunity in Evangelical churches that points to paths of increased spiritual maturity within an alternate, enriching Christ-oriented environment.

All this means that there are people who still strongly seek Christ and spiritual maturity, but no longer trust the church to offer either of these. Oftentimes, these people find others who share the same situation and goals. These people then begin to informally gather.

With the increased breakdown in ecclesial dominance in society and the breakdown of denominational identity, there just is no going back to the era in which rigidly formed, limited number, authoritarian oriented churches that meet in specifically designed buildings are the entire definition of what it means to gather in Christian community. Paul admonishes us to not give up on meeting with each other, but he does not insist this is on Sunday, in a big building, with a service of either drawn out readings or a five song worship set with a half-hour sermon.

People are going to continue to meet outside the bounds of any officially designated traditional church. What are these to be called?
Who is going to give them guidance in their pursuits?

Second, we are in an era of immense learning and education. Even with the common laments of our current educational institutions, we are in fact living in a time in which more people are more educated than at any time in history. A pastor is no longer the most highly educated person in a church, and oftentimes they are not even the most highly theologically educated. So, in even traditional denominations there is a breaking down of traditional authoritarian structures as people engage the topics of theology and ministry with an increasingly mature and informed perspective–a perspective that often brings with it differences of opinions and approaches. Good leaders will help guide and incorporate these into the holistic functioning of a community gathering in unity that reflects the diversity of the Spirit’s work.

Third, there are the traits of the emerging churches themselves. It is easy to get caught up in how one person or another talks about theological concepts or reacts to issues of our era. However, more often than not these are not at the core of emerging church values. These are worth repeating here, as noted by Eddie Gibbs and Ryan Bolger in their great study of Emerging Churches:

1. Identifying with Jesus (a holistic understanding of his ministry)
2. Transforming secular space (moving past the idea there is a secular/sacred split)
3. Living as community
4. Welcoming the stranger (holistic hospitality)
5. Serving with generosity (contributing to the community)
6. Participating as producers (a holistic understanding of the spiritual gifts given to each person)
7. Creating as created beings (creativity is part of our participation with the Spirit
8. Leading as a body
9. Merging ancient and contemporary spiritualities.

If you want to dispute emerging church theology, these are the targets. Anything else is avoiding the conversation and emphasizing theological distinctives on what may be important doctrines, but are not defining emerging church issues. Indeed, I would argue it is absurd to see these elements as only the property of a progressive theology that comes out of a liberal theological tradition. I come out of a very conservative theological tradition, and it is out of my embrace of a whole reading of Scripture, out of my dedication to seeing the whole work of God, out of my absolute faith in the continuing, active work of the Spirit that I see these elements as being more reflective of a deep devotion to the testimony of Scripture and the revelation of God than older forms of church.

These are elements that, I argue, can arise out of an increased devotion to Christ and a maturity in the Spirit. That’s an argument for emerging church expressions that engages more attention to traditional theology and Scripture than even Evangelical churches do.

And these arguments are needed, because the expressions of the emerging church are sociological as much as they are theological.

We are, like it or not, no longer in modernity. We are past modernity, post modern, and how this works itself out is not fully determined. But it is reality. If people who argue against liberal expressions of theology or Continental expressions of postmodern theology think they can simply wait out emerging forms of church (whatever they are or are not called) they are very mistaken.

These are the realities of what we face, and they are, oddly enough, the realities that were celebrated in the earliest forms of church, whether that be in the book of Acts, or the church of Carthage in late 2nd century, or in the monastic reforms of the middle ages, or in the Quaker movement that came out of the Puritans in the 17th century, or in the small groups of the Methodists. This is an impulse that is common throughout church history, and which now has a widened freedom because of mass communication and the lack of authoritarian controls to stop the spread of non-affiliated, non-hierarchical communities of people seeking Christ and His Kingdom.

I agree with Bill Dahl, who writes:

The decline of the emerging church? I don’t see it. On the contrary, I continue to celebrate “the green tips growing out on many of the fragile branches of the ancient tree of faith and spirituality that has been growing throughout history.”

If people abandon contributing, they are abandoning a widely expressed movement to the very particular expressions of theology with which they disagree. There is no inherent connection between emerging church impulses and progressive forms of post-liberal theology.

Not yet, anyway.

Not unless we abandon this ship, abandon the forest to those who cut it down from all kinds of various motives. This means finding common ground with those we share common goals with. Even as this means offering constructive arguments and humble contributions when we find details with which we disagree. There can be many streams into the goals and ideals that are at the heart of emerging churches. Rather than devolve the discussion back into accusations and rejections, let us try something different, something different than so many generations of the church have done. Let us trust the Spirit of God. Let us show real faith. Let us contribute constructive thoughts so that if what we believe is true, we will see it in fruition and communion. We see the Pentecostal churches contribution not because they overcame some divisive argument about Montanism or Barth’s opinion on tongues. Rather, they did what they felt called to do in those early eras, and they resonated broadly, all across the world. That’s the power of God at work in a wonderful way.

But Pentecostals do not have the full picture, I think. Many can point out their mistakes as well. Rather than condemn, let us listen and learn. Let us listen and learn from the other streams as well, some of which may seem offensive. We can and certainly should offer constructive critiques in return, but not in a divisive way, abandoning brothers and sisters who likewise call Jesus Lord, simply because we see a hint of some echo of some perceived heresy.

We are called to unity in the Spirit, not because this is easy, but because there is at the heart of the Spirit’s work a great diversity of thought and expression that leads people from all kinds of emphases and perspectives into the common service of Christ.

We can and should offer alternative contributions to some key issues, not least because I think so many of the issues discussed are not central to the core emerging church ideals. This doesn’t mean the emerging church is broken. It means there is much more to be discussed, much more conversation to be had. If this leads only certain opinions at the table, then that’s sad for all involved.

I have yet to hear any arguments made that convince me that the core elements of the emerging church drive are outside the bounds of the Spirit’s work. And I have yet to hear any arguments to even come close to suggesting there will be a return to an understanding of church participation as it existed pre-20th century. Because of this, I know that the core expressions of what are now called emerging churches will continue to be with us. The only question is which people will lay claim to what are almost certainly holistic expressions of God’s continuing work in this world. My prayer is that people from all sorts of backgrounds will be a part of this developing emerging theology.

I know that this is part of my goals. I’d love to have more and more people who likewise come with shared theological interests stay around and keep me company. It might get very lonely otherwise. But, I’ll still keep at it even still.

Interesting to me, as we so often idealize and romanticize nature as we view it. But, life is hard for those outside the house. This gives a soundtrack to life being lived, in a way that I think better than the new agey mood music does.

via Althouse)

As I’ve mentioned before, my entry into PhD studies was prompted by a paper I wrote in 2007 on the emerging church and Moltmann in conversation. The professor invited me to apply after reading that paper. I did. I started. And here I am in the middle of my second year.

I’ve added a bit more to my studies since then. A little on the emerging church side, a lot on the theology side. Still interested in seeing how an emerging church theology might develop. I’m slowly coming to terms with, if not a final product, at least some priorities and approaches.

In the last post, I linked to a paper I wrote last quarter concerning a few folks from 17th century America. It’s a fairly meaty paper, so I don’t expect too many people clicked through. And of those few, I strongly suspect the great majority didn’t read the footnotes. With this in mind, I imagine very, very few people, if any, saw my wee little comments in footnote 97.

Here it is for those of you who missed it:

Maclear, 77 writes about Anne Hutchinson, “Clearly the winter of 1637-38 had not produced uncertainty or repentance but a profounder commitment to the spiritualization of Puritan faith and doctrine. Moreover, in declaring these principles Anne forged a connecting link between the ‘radical Reformation’ of the sixteenth century and the ‘realized eschatology’ of Quakers in the next decade.” In discussing the “many” similarities between Roger Williams and George Fox, Lovejoy, 209 mentions, “their faith in the evolutionary, or progressive, character of religious truth. Orthodox institutions tended to maintain that religious truth was more or less static, even rigid, and that the faithful of the present age had not much opportunity to improve upon and expand a knowledge of God. On the contrary, radical Puritans, in fact most radical dissenters, believed in ‘further truths,’ or ‘further light.’ With the help of the bible, inspiration, and discussion, new truths could be uncovered, truths God held in reserve until his people were ready to comprehend them.” This hits on an underlying similarity but gives it rather wrong explanation. Williams could not be said to embrace some kind of “further” truth, nor were the early Quakers interested in an evolutionary or progressive truth. Both were eager to find that whole revelation of God that was true at the time of the New Testament and was no longer whole in their age. This whole truth had, for the Quakers, the revelation of the Holy Spirit at its core, the presence of God himself for any who would listen, in any age. Barclay’s use of historical theology adds support to this.

Why do I note this now? Because the same sort of interpretations are popular in our own era. There are those who see much of the emerging church looking for an “evolutionary, or progressive, character of religious truth”. This is in contrast to the orthodox positions of the wider, committed church world. They seek to point out ‘further truths,’ or ‘further lights’.

For me, and for a large part of those who are involved in the emerging/missional church, this is not the goal, not as it defined by many attaching a theology to the instincts and reactions of emerging church folks. I know my affiliation is not about that. My theological and ministerial interests aren’t about trying to reboot a progressive or post-neo-liberal theological project in the guise of popular, reactionary movement.

Rather, I’m eager to find that whole revelation of God that was true at the time of the New Testament, but has lost so much of its wholeness in the meantime. This is not an attempt to reboot some cobbled together, Frankenstein church that asserts its just like the earliest Christian communities. By no means! Rather, I see very clearly that the course of history has led through peaks and valleys. My goal is to be faithful to the work God is doing in this world, in our era, with the realizations that have been achieved over the last many centuries. God has been faithful to his church. He continues to teach and move and pull us towards a more holistic participation with his work.

And this means, in our era, we cannot simply repeat the patterns of past eras. But, in the same way, we cannot ignore the truths of those eras, the truths of the earliest eras, and the truths that men and woman of God–men and women who prayed–contributed. It’s not about a progressive theology, it’s about a better realized theology, one that addresses the key questions of our era, looks at the insights and the mistakes of past eras, contributing to a sharper awareness that brings light and hope and strength and power to this world. This is still Good News. We can find ways of exploration which our forbears did not, even as we stay within the faith they helped orient. We can explore because of the tools, the insights, the wisdom, the discernment which have been passed down.

We can explore because of the Holy Spirit who continues to draw humanity deeper and higher.

I come from a long line of men and women who have sought God with all their heart, and often served God in ways that went beyond casual observation. They were Methodists, and Plymouth Brethren, and Fundamentalists, and Baptists, and Pentecostals, and Evangelicals–whatever era pointed towards an active work of God in their generation. I am a part of that line.

And this is how I see working through an emerging church theology. This whole truth of God has the revelation of the Holy Spirit at its core, the reality of Christ at its foundation, the presence of God himself for any who will listen, in any age. And we participate in this whole truth in our era, contributing to a wider and deeper understanding of it, as we can. A task of a lifetime. It is an emerging theology. It’s going to be fun.

The reason for doing this was because I decided to add a Church history minor to my PhD. Basically, this means that while my PhD still is in systematic theology, I’m adding an extra course of study that widens my area of specialty. Meaning I have more job possibilities when I’m done, and more interest while I’m on my way through it.

My focus this last quarter was on early American church history. Read all of the writings of Roger Williams, and key early documents from the Quakers, as well as key source material about Anne Hutchinson. Made for a very interesting season of reading, as this era was quite religiously vibrant–a lot more so than most people realize.

This work is also going to pour into some continued interests of mine, so I see all the various streams I’m wading in contributing to a fuller (ha!) course of study, which may end up being a career’s worth of work. Now, this is just the beginning, making it feel daunting and exciting.

All this was basically a lead in to the main purpose of this post. If you’re at all curious about Roger Williams, Anne Hutchinson, and early Quakers then I just posted my paper online. If I ever want to do anything more with it, I might take it offline, but for now it’s here for your enjoyment. I’d love to hear thoughts, questions, comments if you have any.

More Pure than the Puritans: A Study of Nonconformity in 17th Century America

“The person who fails to find God loses the source of their own life, acts against the ‘commandment unto life’, and so instead of finding life, finds death instead. Anyone who turns away from the living God and relies on created things, deifies these things and himself, and in so doing destroys both himself and them. We might pursue this interpretation further and say that sin is trust in God that has become deranged, and a love of God that has miscarried. Trust is placed in what is non-divine instead of in God, and this turns what is not-God into an idol. Love is directed towards things that are not divine, overtaxing them and destroying their finite and transitory beauty. And in the process the lover destroys themselves.”

~Jurgen Moltmann, The Spirit of Life

This is a great perspective on life with God and sin because it does not emphasize merely a list of crimes or misdemeanors. Sin is an orientation, and as such it may include the list of usual vices but also includes anything that becomes, for us, a distracting source of our identity. Indeed, I think that it is often more dangerous to be caught up in the socially acceptable distractions. Being approved by the world means we are not constantly reminded of our need for grace, for redemption, for renewal. We strive and strive, doing ‘good’ works, but miss the mark because we are not finding our life in God.

People fail to find God by looking in all kinds of places. So many fail to find God in churches–doing ministry that is not Spirit led, pursuing theology that emphasizes increasingly narrowed lists of exacting minutiae, content with their religious guilt that reminds them they do have a spiritual side even if they don’t want to do anything about it. So many fail to find God in all kinds of worthwhile activities. But because they use these activities as a distraction, they never find the peace, or the hope, or the rest that only a return to God brings.

Holiness is an orientation. It is an embrace of the source of life who brings us new life, and brings us to the place we truly are most alive. In turning to God, in orienting ourselves to God and letting everything else fall into place around this orientation, we do not lose the created things or the joy or the hope or the freedom. We are able to embrace the good things in life, the activities that nurture and restore our being, with an open embrace. We do not demand those activities, or other people, or personal success, provide any deep meaning. By not having to find our identity in these other things, we can enjoy them for what they do bring. We can be free in our friendships, open in our activities, giving in our whole lives.

If we hold onto these other things, looking for identity in them, we break down and we lose the ability to relate to anyone other than ourselves.

“The soul that is on the search for God divinizes the finite beauty of transitory things, and through its immoderacy overtaxes and destroys them. If the seeking soul thinks that what is transitory is God, then it begins to be afraid that these transitory things will not live up to what it expects of them, and this fear in turn evokes hate of the things and hate of the self–that is to say aggression.”
~Jurgen Moltmann, The Spirit of Life

How many relationships, how many marriages, break up precisely because of this distorted perspective? If I look to something else, someone else, to help define me, or to be my bridge to God, or to be my ultimate priority, then I lose both God and this other thing, other person, other goal. It is death of self, even if the goal seems good and distracting. It brings no hope, except in and through God.

oh!: Mark Daniels links to this post and adds some very helpful thoughts of his own.

It is the diversity which brings a heightened unity, for the unity is not based on sameness, but rather it is based on the divine intermingling of varied individuals whose being compliments and enriches every other individual so that the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. This is not a conglomeration of pieces, being much more complex due to the work of the Spirit in the community. Because we share the same Spirit, our uniqueness is shared with others, as we receive their uniqueness into ourselves. Miroslav Volf writes that it is “the indwelling of the Spirit common to everyone that makes the church into a communion corresponding to the Trinity, a communion in which personhood and sociality are equiprimal.”

This awareness of the diversity within the unity is not limited to an awareness of different individuals for their own sake. A full awareness of this diversity which is highlighted in the communion fellowship includes an understanding of the diversity of gifts and passions which are also a work of the continual presence of the Spirit in and through all believers. These gifts and passions are essential for the full carrying out of the mission of the church. The Spirit prompts, provides, and provokes those within the church to be involved in the work of the Spirit throughout the world, granting those specific gifts which are needed in order to facilitate this participation. In doing this the Spirit enables the entire congregation to be an active part of the ministry of the Church.

In the Lord’s Supper there is the recognition of the equality of all members, prompting all to “recognize the body”, leading to an ever greater awareness of how the Spirit is leading the community as a whole. Each person provides an essential nuance, without which the community will be less than fully engaged in the work of the Spirit. “Every believer,” writes Hans Kung, “can and must, having been taught by God, teach others; can and must, having received the word of God, be its herald in some form or another.” The Lord’s Supper celebrates the equality of the believers, taking as reality the understanding of the “priesthood of all believers”, re-emphasizing the polycentric community in which all people are able and required to be ministers in their own unique regard. To not recognize this polycentric aspect is to lose sight of the One who calls and leads all believers into the One body of Christ, giving each an essential function which is united, yet diverse.

The celebration of the Lord’s supper then is the celebration of this unique relationship, it is the awareness of how the Spirit of God has worked in the lives of each person, all who have a different relationship with God, and thus have a unique perspective which the Spirit has brought into the Church. For this reason the celebration of communion is in many ways like the Year of Jubilee, in which inequalities are rectified, and the community is, if even for a moment, stricken of any structures which would indicate some being valued over others. All have been called by the Spirit in diverse, though fully equal, ways, bringing a unity which transcends simple agreement and which is united in the past, present and future work of Christ as mediated in our midst by the Spirit of God.

Any structure or form which would cause disunity or devaluing of any individual strikes against the Spirit who establishes the community as it is. Rather than being a time to discuss who cannot participate, this fellowship is the chance to open our eyes to see who is participating, celebrating with joy and thanksgiving the wonderful ways in which the Spirit is moving in our midst, joining in with rather than limiting the work of the Spirit in this world. As a feast to celebrate the work of Christ, as a unified and diverse community, the Lord’s supper is a profoundly event of the Holy Spirit which reminds us as often as we celebrate it the full work of the Triune God in bringing restoration and transformation to this entire world.

Yet, human contributions to evil seems an unsatisfying conclusion. Because, ultimately when we speak of evil we cannot conceive of how a natural event like an earthquake can cause overwhelming suffering. So, again, we turn and accuse God. We accuse him of looking the other way. Or we accuse him of not being powerful enough. Or we accuse him of not even existing.

This is the catching place for so many. The trouble with it is that it blames God for the troubles and rejects the total answer which is suggested.

The Christian Scriptures, at least, are pretty direct about not giving a conclusive answer to why bad things happen. This is most directly seen in the story of Job. The question of why evil has influence is probably the most important one challenging any religion.

While evil happens, the question of God is not stuck on the evil that happens but on what happens next.

So, in the face of evil can we say there is a God? Yes, but we cannot look only at the evil. We have to look at the fact there’s hope even still.

That is the reminder Jurgen Moltmann, and others, have argued. He was a soldier in WWII who found out about the holocaust while a prisoner of war. Yet, rather than settling into a profound spiritual distance, he experienced the presence of God that gave him confidence that God was true and God was real. Yet, in this experience there was still not clarity. He became a theologian. He became a theologian who reminded the church, and the world, that we cannot look at evil and then blame God as though evil has won. We can see evil, mourn for it, be disgusted by it, but still have hope.

After WWII there was hope for Europe even still. After this earthquake there is hope for Haiti, even still. And this hope goes beyond what we see in the present. The hope, the driving, transformational hope, is that we are not lost in the evil, nor does the evil give ultimate definition. There is hope for the suffering that there will be an end to the suffering and a renewal of joy after it. There is a hope for those who mourn that there will be an end to the mourning and a renewal of life after it. There is a hope to those who are oppressed that there will be an end to the oppression and victory after it. This hope can live in us in the present so that we can resist the evil now, not being crushed by it but instead in manifold ways say that this evil isn’t as it should be. We can fight for the hope in helping others, in freeing others, in giving others hope that their experiences do not define them, but there’s more to life. And the hope is not limited to some distant, ethereal future. It’s a hope we can offer to people now. And in offering that hope we can taste more of that hope in our own lives.

The more who live in this hope, the more evil is resisted, and even more can live in the joy and freedom of truly lived life.

The earthquake devastated Haiti. The earthquake wasn’t itself evil, but overwhelmingly illustrated the pervasive evil of corruption and all else that went into Haiti’s present state. But, there’s hope that all Haiti has been, all that it is now, is not the destiny of Haiti. This horror is evil, but it is not the end. And if we’re speaking of God in this topic we have to keep in mind what end he declares. And we can have hope that his end is a righteous, a just, and an enlivening end. That is the testimony of the resurrection. The cross is not all we are to bear. There is resurrection.

Without this hope we are left thinking that all there can be is this earthquake, is our horrible childhood experiences, is whatever else dark and corrupting that is seen in our worlds. It doesn’t have to be like this. It is not supposed to be like this. And we can be either people who fight against evil or people who enable it. And if you’re the former, you’re on the good side of hope. And if you’re on the side of this deep hope, I have to think that you’re on the side of God.

First off, no amount of denouncing Pat Robertson will be enough to either a) get news folks to realize he doesn’t speak for Evangelicals, let alone Christians in general and b) to get those who don’t like Christians to use his words as an example of how Christians hate.

I think Robertson may have been a faithful leader at some point, but he’s long drifted into being a hack corrupted by his own perverse search for power and wealth. He’s the Evangelical Jesse Jackson.

Theologically, I think there is something to be found in the idea that participation with evil spirituality does bring consequences. This isn’t just for those with deals with the devil. It also applies to those who have deals with God. In the OT, remember, Israel is never exempt from God’s punishment. They are called to walk with God, and when they veered outside his bounds for too long, well they got blasted again and again for it. The various power grabs and distractions throughout church history can be seen to have consequences. Indeed, it seems that those who claim God’s authority are expected to live up to God’s call in their lives.

Haiti’s long connection with voodoo and strong spirituality with a turn away from orthodox Christianity leads to an acknowledgment that negative spirituality has consequences.

Yet, in understanding there are consequences to such infatuation with evil, and willful engagement with very questionable spiritual forces, does not mean that we then have the right to judge, or condemn.

Jesus turned his anger to the religious leaders of his day, after all. He, again and again, showed compassion for those who faced the consequences of evil. He again and again helped the poor, the sick, those caught up in horrendous consequences.

So, however we want to debate the issue of old pacts, or present spiritualities, that doesn’t really affect how we are called to respond to disasters like this. We are called to help. To pray for them. To suggest that the power of God can overcome all evil, that pacts with the devil mean nothing in the face of grace. We are called to show light in this present darkness and give good news to those who now are flooded with absolute misery–good news that isn’t rhetorical but involves real help, real assistance, real and palpable aid.

I think of Luke 13:1-5 here.

Are the Haitians sinners? Yeah. Are we? Yeah. We’re all in need of grace, because we all are equals in our pacts and mistakes. If the Haitians somehow “deserved” this because of some pact, so do we all. So does Pat Robertson, and no doubt he’ll be reminded of this fact, probably before too long.

The Christian response is not to condemn Haiti in the midst of their horrible suffering. The Christian response is to pray for them, to reach out to them in their suffering, to do what we can in practical ways.

The church is more than simply a gathered collection of those saved from sin, it is also a gathered community who in the present are being renewed in fullness of life, tasting increasingly of the eternal reality which the coming of Christ began. This reality includes the diversity and unity which is first seen in the Triune nature of God and then is also represented in those who are his people. Lack of this emphasis is the primary focus of the problems in Corinth. These problems are seen throughout history for whatever reason.

The lack of unity in the Church is an affront to the very purpose of the Eucharist gathering. Theologian Velli-Matti Kärkkäinen writes “If the people of God gather around the Table to recollect the one undivided body of Christ and have at the same time internal strife, they oppose the work of the Spirit, the Spirit of unity.”

In many liturgies, the Holy Spirit is called to come down and bring this unity. However, it seems clear to me that the Spirit is already present. There already is the fullness of the gifts in the gathered community which does not need renewal, but rather needs recognition. This recognition is the key to the full unity which the Spirit prompts. When it is lacking, when there is not a recognition that the Spirit is and has been working in each of the individuals present, a warped understanding of roles and importance develops, as it did in Corinth, leading to some being exalted, and most becoming passive.

As the Spirit works in this world, gathering and leading multitudes into a restored relationship with the Divine persons, the Spirit assembles believers into a community. This is “a fellowship which overcomes separation and enmity through the self-giving of Christ for all men, and which creates solidarity among people who are in themselves different.”

The unity of the Church is derived from the work of the One Spirit in the lives of all who are part. Just as the Spirit cannot be divided, neither is the church divided. The problem is in the awareness of this One Spirit which works in diverse ways. Thus, Jesus directed the church to continually participate in a symbol of this unity, a meal fellowship, in which those who are in the community celebrate and acknowledge this fact by sharing the bread and sharing the cup.

“It is the Spirit,” writes Miroslav Volf, “ who constitutes the church. People, however, must accept the gifts of God in faith (even if this faith is itself a gift of God); they must come together, and they must remain together.” To commune with the One God necessitates the coming together with others who are also called into relationship with God by the Spirit. This is not simply, however, an entering into a hierarchical community. Rather, the leadership of any community is equally responsible to acknowledge the work of the Spirit in the life of even the “lowliest” believer.

It is the Spirit which demands and constitutes the unity of the Church not those who are officeholders in the Church. By not recognizing the validity of some believers to enter into a shared meal fellowship, these leaders are guilty of not recognizing “the body”, of choosing to ignore or resist how the Spirit is moving, and thus denying the fullness of God to their own detriment.

As a meal constituted by the Spirit it is not within the confines of theological dispute to decide who and who does not participate. Those who are drawn to the meal, must share in the meal. As a symbol and acting out of the Spirit’s drawing many into one, the Church participates in a celebration of this unity but, outside of clearly egregious sins, does not have control over who gets to share in this unity. That is rather the supremely important role of the Spirit in this world, which is lost when there is a lack of awareness of the full work of the Holy Spirit.

The Eucharistic meal emphasizes first the role the Spirit plays in the person of Christ. The words which are used in the celebration emphasize the sacrifice of Christ for our salvation. The Church is gathered to celebrate and remember the sacrifice of Christ for our salvation, this salvation which is now mediated to us by the work of the Holy Spirit in our lives. “Salvation,” Miroslav Volf writes, “is communion with God and human beings.” The role of the Spirit in the life and work of Jesus is absolutely vital in his communion with the Father, and now with our communion with the Triune God. “It was by the Spirit,” Clark Pinnock suggests, “that Jesus was conceived, anointed, empowered, commissioned, directed, and raised up.” the Holy Spirit is the one present now with us bringing us into this communion, communion which was enabled by Christ on the cross, but which is effected by the Spirit who both calls and fills us with the reality of this communion, a communion which likewise anoints, empowers, commissions, directs and raises up. The proclamation of the work of Christ in this world and in our own lives is accomplished by the Spirit who in all things is represented through Christ’s own name. Moltmann stresses the fact that “the risen Christ lives from, and in, the eternal Spirit, and that the divine Spirit of life acts in and through him.”

This interpenetration of the divine persons suggests that the eating of the elements in the Eucharistic fellowship is the partaking of not simply a representation of Christ’s body, but is also the celebration of the work that the Spirit is doing in us through the work of Christ. The celebration of the Eucharist reminds us in a profound way the manner in which the Spirit has already and is still working in our lives as a community and as individuals, allowing us to partake in communion with the divine. Orthodox theologian, Vladimir Lossky writes, “That which is common to the Father and the Son is the divinity which the Holy Spirit communicates to men within the Church, in making them ‘partakers of the divine nature’, in conferring the fire of deity, uncreated grace, upon those who become members of the Body of Christ.” Without understanding this dimension of the Holy Spirit, the Eucharist becomes binarian, wrongly understanding how Christ works in the life of the community. This leads then to a governmental representation which in effect emphasizes the role of one over the many, rather than, as Paul seeks to highlight, emphasizing all equally.

“It is,” Moltmann states, “from the Spirit that we expect the gift of eternal life, the raising of the dead, the rebirth of everything living, and the new creation of all things.” This expectation is giving its strongest emphasis in the Eucharist feast which looks both to the past and to the future in the present community, tying together, ,the study of Christ and the study of God’s continued, future works. The “Holy Spirit comes at the cost of Christ’s departure; the price of his coming is the cross, and he comes in the power of the Easter mystery”, events all commemorated in the fellowship of the Lord’s Supper. This suggests the Eucharist is a profound event of the Holy Spirit which celebrates the past, present and future perspectives that constitute this meal as a whole. The work of Christ in us is the work of the Spirit in our midst, highlighting, giving new and insightful perspectives into the reality of who Christ was and what he did. The Lord’s Supper reminds and restores this understanding and hopefully renews the emphasis in our community life, elevating our hearts and minds to an increased awareness of, and thankfulness for, the Divine.