My Journey to Anglicanism

For the last month or so our family has been visiting a small Anglican church near our house.  Having been raised Reformed Presbyterian, Anglicanism was not a tradition which with I was intimately familiar, nor was it a persuasion to which I was particularly attracted.  Due to circumstances mostly beyond my control, however, our family was inactively looking for a new church and found St. John's Anglican Church.  Anglicanism was not really my preference because I have traditionally been very low church, but, when I spotted the sign for St. John's, I was intrigued and began to investigate that specific church, the greater body of which they are a part, and Anglicanism as a whole.  I would like to share some of the reasons that I have been drawn to Anglicanism and how I ended up at St. John's.

1) I was sick of bickering.  Let me be clear about something.  This is not meant as a critique of Presbyterianism.  I am not trying to insult my Reformed Presbyterian brethren or bash the way I was raised.  I have great respect for that tradition, and I have also come to realize that my particular experience with Presbyterianism was not necessarily totally representative of Presbyterianism as a whole (if it is even possible to speak of Presbyterianism as a whole).  I also recognize that my perspective of Reformed Presbyterianism has often been skewed by the number of frivolous squabbles I have witnessed and engaged in on the Internet.

That being said, the history of Presbyterianism is replete with debate and strife.  John Knox, the founder of Presbyterianism (I don't care what you say--Jesus wasn't the founder of Presbyterianism), was not known as a laid back kind of guy.  Like Luther, he boldly protested against the ecclesiastical abuses and personal sins of the religious elites of his day.  Unlike most of the Reformers, however, he went a step further and stood against political leaders, setting a precedent that was, incidentally, formative for the United States of America.  Presbyterianism, much like its homeland of Scotland, has always had a warrior spirit.  I have heard it called a rebellious spirit, but I like to view it more graciously than that.  Presbyterians, as we all ought to do, value truth at the expense of unity.  The problem is that they have sometimes taken that too far, standing for the specific truths of Presbyterianism, as opposed to the truths of Christianity.  Many Presbyterians would rather have a tiny church than worship with those with different beliefs or practices.  What some consider secondary (or even tertiary) matters they consider an matters over which to break fellowship.  Again, this is not true of all Presbyterians, but many of the conservative Presbyterians whom I have known think this way.  I was certainly raised with an us against the world mindset.

Underlying the incessant debate is an overemphasis on the mental or intellectual component of the faith.  Theology is important, but there have been many Presbyterians who have driven themselves mad, often ending up as Roman Catholics or even as atheists, because of this endless pursuit of theological perfection.  Anglicans, however, appear to be far more comfortable resting in ambiguity and the mystery of the Gospel.  They don't need to clarify, distinguish, or define every single theological concept.

2) I love English history.  I have spent the last 5+ years intentionally studying the history of England and it has become on of my primary intellectual interests.  As any historian would tell you, it is impossible to study the history of England to any significant degree without becoming somewhat familiar with the history of the Anglican church.  Even before the Reformation the Anglican church had its own unique traditions and spirit, which I have always found intriguing.  With a last name like Spencer, I feel both a filial and spiritual connection to the people of the British Isles.  My study of English history, as incomplete as it may be, has definitely made the transition easier.

3) I believe in paedocommunion.  One of the defining beliefs and practices of my life has been paedocommunion.  For those of you who do not know, that means that I believe that children should participate in the Lord's Supper as early as they are physically able to do so.  Though it has a clear and ancient history in certain Christian traditions, paedocommunion is not a belief that is particularly popular within Presbyterianism.  This fact has drastically limited the number of churches which I would consider joining.  The church I have attended for the majority of my life was founded by my father specifically because of paedocommunion and a couple of other issues.  That church stayed open for many years longer than it probably should have because there were no other valid options within an hour of us.  When I saw that a new Anglican church had popped up near my house, I was intrigued because, in my hunt for other options, I had learned that many Anglican churches allow children to partake.

"Why," you might ask, "don't you just let it go?  Is paedocommunion that important?"  That is a question that I have been asked, and have asked myself, many times over the years.  I have boiled my answer down to these two reasons.  Firstly, it would be extremely difficult on our children, and on us as parents, to begin to withhold the blessing of the Table from four children who have been partaking their entire lives.  Secondly, I began to realize that paedocommunion was a symptom of a greater difference in perspective between myself and historic Presbyterianism.  I struggle to put this into words, but the best way that I can put it is that paedocommunion, along with weekly communion (which is also very important to us), flows from a more covenantal mindset that views worship, and the Table specifically, not as a mental, intellectual exercise for individuals, but as a corporate activity for the people of God as a whole.  While worship certainly should involve the mental engagement of each individual's mind, I think that many non-liturgical churches have gone too far in their attempt to correct the Roman Catholic concept of implicit faith.  I could go on, but my point is simply that I realized that I was not as Presbyterian as I thought I was (my brother, Joel, had been trying to convince me of this for years).  These issues, particularly those centering on Communion, were symptoms of a deeper philosophical break that I felt I needed to make with Reformed Presbyterianism.  Ironically enough, it was an uncommon conviction like paedocommunion that led me to a more ecumenical faith, which brings me to my final point.

4) I was searching for a more ecumenical and historical faith.  For a few years I have felt that my Reformed Presbyterian heritage was too narrow-minded.  Presbyterians love Church history, to their credit, but, as is the case with many traditions, their study of Church history is often really just a study of their own movement.  As I began to investigate ancient Church traditions, I realized how much of the Christian tradition Presbyterianism intentionally rejects.  In case you are unaware, Reformed Presbyterians commonly do not consider Roman Catholics or Orthodox believers to be true Christians.  I have even heard some Presbyterians state that Arminians, fellow sons of the Protestant Reformation, are not true Christians.  It was that kind of thinking that I was becoming to resent.

Then I began to study Roman Catholicism.  More specifically, I was studying the history of the Episcopal form of church government.  While Roman Catholic claims of the Petrine Episcopacy are surely overstated, it is clear from Church history that the Episcopal form of polity is quite ancient, probably arising in some form in some locations within the lifetimes of the Apostles.  Some other traditions, like celebrating Easter and Christmas, are also extremely ancient and are by no means idolatrous, as some extreme Presbyterians would claim.  I, amidst a postmodern culture that idolizes youth and individualism, felt growing in my heart this longing for a connection to the ancient, catholic Church of Jesus Christ.  I believe that Anglicanism does a much better job of being both catholic (not Catholic) and Protestant than most other Reformed traditions do.

Before I end, I want to reiterate that my intention here was to relate, for the information of those who may be wondering, but mostly for my own catharsis, the spiritual journey our family has been on for the last few years.  My goal was not to denigrate anyone, least of all the Christian tradition in which I was raised.  One of the lessons I have learned is that our weaknesses are our strengths, and that our strengths are our weaknesses.  This is true for all of life, and I don't think that Christian traditions or denominations are an exception.  While I have come to believe that Reformed Presbyterianism has weak points, as all Christian traditions do, I recognize that those weak points are the inverse of its strengths.  Presbyterians are bold in their faith, love the Word of God, and rely firmly on Jesus Christ for every part of their lives.  They defend the God of the Bible, regardless of how society, and even their own liberal brethren, call them to compromise.  There is much to love and respect within the Presbyterian tradition, and I am grateful to have been raised within it.

On the other hand, I have come to a point in my life where my beliefs and my circumstances have directed me towards another tradition.  I am not ready to call myself an Anglican, but our family has found a home in an Anglican church, which we plan on attending for the foreseeable future.  For me personally, part of the appeal of Anglicanism is that they don't seem to be as concerned with labels as Presbyterians, Baptists, etc. are.  Anglicans have a rich tradition founded more on geography than on a specific set of beliefs, and they recognize that there are many other valid Christian traditions.  They are, above all else, Christian, not Anglican.

Life has been pretty crazy over the last few years.  As our children grow up and as we all become who we are going to be, change is inevitable.  For the last decade of our lives a shadow of uncertainty has covered the church we were attending, which was emotionally and spiritually disruptive.  Deep in our hearts we knew that, as painful and unfortunate as it might be, someday we would have to move on.  My wife and I both feel that God was waiting for us to find St. John's.