On Church without Taste
By Samuel C. R. Cripps
Every Sunday, as I return from the drive-in service at Zion Episcopal Church with my wife, I get to take a look across the field as we turn into the Peaks and see the services that a local Lake Country church is putting on over at the Refectory.
I see them unmasked, praise band cranking, not an altar in sight, and I sometimes get a certain feeling of both jealousy and superiority. Jealousy that they can fellowship with the other members of their congregation while I cannot; and superiority in that I consider my tradition and my customs a little more “proper” or a little more “refined.”
I mentioned something to this effect to my wife just yesterday as we were pulling in, and she gently corrected me with something to the effect of, “Well, they love Jesus too.” And bang, there it is: conviction. A sharp pricking of the heart, and I felt terrible.
I’ve been a lot of things in my Christian journey; however, one thing that I have never been was an evangelical. Growing up in Arkansas, I was always told that that “just wasn’t for our family.” My family almost exclusively being Roman Catholic or Jewish, that particular branch of Protestantism always felt somewhat “tasteless.” As I’ve grown up, I’ve tried to be more thoughtful and understanding, trying to find things that I appreciate from other traditions. I’ve even felt a little puffed with pride at how understanding I’ve become of evangelicalism, conciliatory even, as an Anglo-Catholic toward their movement. But my response yesterday while driving home revealed something in my own heart: that I’m acting a whole lot like the disciples in the gospel reading.
Fr. Steve Schlossberg, who led our Fall Retreat last year, said something that really stuck with me; some who were here at the time may remember this: “The great sin of Anglicanism is our good taste.” I chuckled when he said it, but man, if it isn’t true. It’s so easy to turn our noses up at anything outside of the highest liturgical traditions, while completely overlooking the true love of Jesus in the hearts of those who worship there. The disciples argued among themselves which of them was the greatest, and Jesus said, “He who receives me receives him who sent me, for he who is least amongst you all is great” (Mt. 10:40).
Our good taste can be a very good thing. We worship the Lord Jesus in such a beautiful way. Even worshiping outdoors, we still manage to have beautiful services, with beautiful music, with a beautiful altar, and beautiful vestments, thanks in no small part to Nashotah House’s Dr. Williams and the chapel sacristans. This beautiful way of worship is really quite wonderful. In our classrooms we learn about the Church Fathers, biblical languages, high theology, Scripture. And that is a wonderful thing that is helping to equip us for our vocation. But it is all too easy to take all of it and say to ourselves, “This is the only way to do things.” I know I say that to myself sometimes. I know that I can be haughty about services that feature a guitar or two; likewise about audio and video projectors in the service. Yet in the Protestant traditions that do not look like our own, Jesus is also there. In the Protestant traditions that do not look like our own, people are being fed with the gospel and are being equipped for the Great Commission. So it’s hard to turn my nose up too far without noticing my failure to be ecumenical and that my haughtiness wounds the church of God.
As we engage in the ministry of Jesus here at this House and out in the world, I pray that if you sin as I sin, that you think of this gospel reading and remind yourself of Jesus’ words to his disciples: “Do not stop him, for the one who is not against you is for you.”
All are brothers and sisters, all those baptized are joined with us in Christ, all those who spread the gospel share in the same mission that we do. And I pray that our good taste does not become an impediment to our spirit of ecumenism, our love of neighbor, nor stand in the way of the Great Commission that all those baptized in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit share.
Samuel C.R. Cripps is a residential Middler and choral scholar at Nashotah House Theological Seminary and is an aspirant to Holy Orders in the Episcopal Diocese of Dallas. Sam is interested in homiletics, pastoral theology, and ecumenical dialogue. Sam is an avid fisherman, collector of vinyl records, and an enthusiast of the Appalachian yodel. He currently serves as the Advertising Manager for The Living Church Foundation and lives with his wife Lauren and his dog Jed.