An Introduction to the Oxford Movement
By Michael Chandler
Church Publishing, 2003

What Was the Oxford Movement?
By George Herring
Continuum, 2002
Book Review by Scott MacDougall

Michael Chandler and George Herring have written useful, brief primers on this important moment in Anglican history. Chandler’s book, An Introduction to the Oxford Movement, is a helpful narrative that describes the people and events involved in the story of the movement from its beginning to its end. Though its opening chapter may assume a bit too much knowledge of English church and secular history on the part of a general reader, and though the end may be a bit short on the implications and impact of the movement, Chandler’s Introduction does provide a thorough timeline of the events comprised by it. Herring’s What Was the Oxford Movement? provides a different look at these events. Instead of a straightforward chronology, Herring devotes chapters to describing the context out of which the Tractarian Movement developed, the ideas it championed, the events of its history and the various ways the Oxford Movement manifested itself at the parochial level. Helpful maps and graphs are provided, in addition to an appendix of 40 short primary texts, which allow the reader to experience first-hand the tone and flavor of the opinions and writings of both the Tractarians and their opponents. Herring’s book focuses on the ideas and implications of the Movement, while Chandler’s is perhaps more concerned with its history. For a very good overview of the Oxford Movement and its importance, one could not go wrong by reading both.

In the mid-19th century, Oxford University was the locus of certain thinkers, publications and events that have collectively come to be known as the Oxford or Tractarian Movement. The Movement was a response to perceived threats to the Church of England, threats mostly in the form of increased Parliamentary control over Church governance and the widespread belief that the devotion of the laity and clergy was somewhat lacking. The men associated with the Oxford Movement — such as Richard Hurrell Froude, John Keble, Henry Manning, John Henry Newman and E. B. Pusey — felt that the way to rectify both of these conditions was to strengthen the high view of the Church, looking to the beliefs, practices and structures of the “primitive” church as a model for the contemporary context.

One of the major means by which these scholar-priests disseminated their ideas was by a series of writings, Tracts for the Times, published between 1833 and 1841. These tracts treated all manner of ecclesiastical issues, but always from a staunchly “Catholic” perspective. To the Tractarians and the public they addressed, “Catholic” signified the early Church, not the Roman Catholic Church. It is in this sense that the Tractarians referred to themselves without anxiety as Anglo-Catholics. Nevertheless, the Oxford Movement’s high-church point of view — which asserted that the Church, as an institution established directly by Christ, ought not to be under the control of Parliament, in contrast to the vast majority of the English public, which felt the opposite — opened it to charges of “Romanism,” a cry that dogged the Movement throughout its career.

Resistance to this “Romanizing” force in the Church of England was fierce and bitter. Bishops sometimes refused to ordain deacons to the priesthood if they were serving in parishes with Tractarian rectors. Spurious charges were brought against various Oxford University faculty, resulting in the firing of some staff, loss of privileges (including the right to preach) for others and even, in a rare case, the stripping of degrees from an Oxford alumnus. Some priests were forced out of their parishes. In the end, some of these high churchmen, having been cut off from their means and colleagues, regretfully did leave the Church of England and were received into the Roman Catholic Church. An early notable case was that of Newman, whose tearful move to the Roman faith was a serious blow to the movement (though Herring holds that it was less so than scholars have often thought). In the end, however, few clergy felt called to such a drastic step.

Despite all attempts to extinguish the Oxford Movement, it persisted. In fact, it flourished. By the end of the century, Tractarian priests could be found throughout England, though they were in greatest concentration in the southeast and southwest. The effects of the movement were evident. The high-church theology of the Movement was complemented by a recovery of “ritualism” in worship. Practices like auricular confession — while never entirely missing from the Church of England — were revived. Candles were reintroduced to the rediscovered altar, both of these generally having been absent since the Reformation. Vestments and ornamental decorations were reinstalled. Monastic orders for women and, to a lesser extent, men were created. After a long process, Eucharist began to be celebrated daily, whereas before the Movement it was generally celebrated only a few times per year. The Daily Office was brought back. Even church architecture was affected. The Cambridge Camden Society was established to promote both the Victorian Gothic architecture favored by the Tractarians and the kind of high-church liturgical practices already described. Parliament still tried to stem the tide of such “innovations.” Laws against this “ritualism” were passed and some priests were jailed. None of this had any effect on church practice. The impact of the Oxford Movement had made a lasting impact on the shape of Anglican ecclesiastical theology and practice.

Bonhoeffer
Directed by Martin Doblmeier
Documentary Film
Journey Films, 90 minutes
Movie Review by Sr. Elise, CHS

Dietrich Bonhoeffer was born in l906 to a cultured family of eight children of which he was sixth. His father was a noted psychiatrist and his mother was from a prominent clergy family. Their home was a place where professional people would gather and discuss political and social issues of the day. The Bonhoeffer family did not attend church regularly; religion was considered a private matter between the individual and God — a legacy from the Age of Enlightenment — while church services might be attended occasionally.

The film traces the unlikely beginnings of Dietrich’s interest in theology when studying at the University of Berlin to his being hanged, naked, in the same city in l945 as a member of the conspirators against Hitler’s life and the Nazi regime.

This story is told with a remarkable number of primary sources: relatives who knew him well, theologians, his best friend, historians, his former professor in seminary, Karl Barth, Martin Niemoller and even Desmond Tutu. The film discusses Dietrich’s doctoral thesis earned at the age of 21. The title was “The Communion of Saints” and is early evidence of the direction that his lifelong theological endeavors would take. Also shown in the movie was the “Konkordat,” a written agreement between the Nazi regime and the papacy.

Bonhoeffer’s emphasis on the community of believers — which was the real meaning of his doctoral thesis — was nourished further during his one-year study at Union Theological Seminary in New York in 1930-31 under Reinhold Niebuhr, whose leanings toward the social gospel and his quoting of black political writers at first disturbed Bonhoeffer. Yet these very ideas would be absorbed by him and become a vital part of his theological thinking. Another great influence from his time in the United States was the preaching and singing at the Abyssinian Baptist Church in Harlem. There Bonhoeffer heard the Rev. Adam Clayton Powell mightily proclaim the gospel and speak also of the political and social issues of the day. There he heard the emotional spirituals sung with fervor. This contrast to the dry, didactic preaching of the Church in Germany ignited and then continued to fuel the courage in Bonhoeffer to speak out and to act whenever possible in opposition to Hitler during the years to come. During this year abroad he followed the news of the rise of Hitler and his growing power. In January of l933, Bonhoeffer heard Hitler, at an Evangelical church in Berlin, initiate the Nazi regime with himself as the head of this new “leader state” and with a request that “the Almighty” would help to resurrect the strength of the German nation.

Two days later, Bonhoeffer spoke on the radio declaring God alone as the one to whom we owe absolute allegiance and to whom our obedience is owed, while not mentioning “der Fuhrer” by name.

When the persecution of the Jews was added to Hitler’s agenda, Bonhoeffer become active in protest. He spent time in England, trying to alert that nation to cooperate in joining with the Church in Germany against Hitler. There was not much response at this time. He went to India for a year and a half to learn about Gandhi’s pacifism. At home again, he gathered the Evangelical clergy around a new Christo-centric and anti-Nazi position: the “Confessing Church.” The seminary he established at that time, closed by the Nazis two years later, was an example of a Christian community. The seminarians focused on study, prayer, mutual service and especially music — old and new classical music and Negro spirituals.

The infamous “Night of Broken Glass” in 1938, during which Jewish businesses and 300 houses of worship were destroyed, led to even greater efforts on the part of Bonhoeffer to stop Hitler.

Though invited by Union Theological Seminary to return and teach, which he did do briefly, Bonhoeffer’s troubled conscience brought him back to Germany, even though he probably knew it would cost him his life. He joined a resistance movement and became a member of a group of conspirators who planned to kill Hitler. With his brother-in-law, Christof Dohnanyi, the group planned several attempts to assassinate Hitler, though all of these elaborately planned attempts failed. Bonhoeffer examined his conscience about belonging to this group and about planning to murder someone, even someone like Hitler. He asked his fellow clergymen, “Would you grant absolution to a murderer?” and “What kind of a world do we pass on to future generations?”

Dohnanyi, who held a position in the government at that time and held vital information about the Nazi regime, was arrested in 1943. Soon Bonhoeffer was to follow him to a prison in Berlin where they were held for two years. The friends Bonhoeffer made among the guards enabled him to receive books, and a careful and ingenious system of letter-writing was devised within the pages of the books. Bonhoeffer continued writing a book he had begun before his imprisonment. But when the last of the long interrogations was over, Bonhoeffer went without rebuttal to his death.

This film is not only an inspiration to watch but also a valuable teaching tool.

The Dwelling of the Light: Praying with Icons of Christ
By the Most Rev. and Rt. Hon. Rowan Williams
Eerdmans Publishing, 2003
Book Review by Scott MacDougall

This slim and beautifully designed hardcover volume by Rowan Williams, the current Archbishop of Canterbury, is an excellent introduction for a person who knows little or nothing about the function and use of icons in Eastern Orthodox spirituality. Archbishop Williams has long had an interest in the Orthodox tradition, and his love of, respect for, and knowledge about it is clear.

Written in very accessible, non-technical language throughout, the Archbishop begins with an introduction that describes both the Bible’s suspicion of images and the rich tradition of Christian art that developed in spite of it. He describes the conflicts and tensions that have resulted from visual representations of the sacred, particularly in the Eastern church.

The introduction also outlines the theological, and especially the Christological, basis for iconic practice, which is quite helpful. The Orthodox argument, Williams explains, is that icons do not violate the scriptural prohibition against depicting God, because they never, in fact, do depict the Godhead directly. Instead, they show martyrs, saints, and Jesus — all human beings — and there is, they argue, no Biblical proscription against images of human beings. Divinity, however, is present indirectly in these human beings: especially in the icons of Christ, the Spirit seems to radiate from the pictures.

Icons are not portraits in the Western sense. They are not meant to provide a fleshly likeness of their subject. Instead, they are, Williams says, “a gateway for God,” to which the viewer responds in prayer. Icons are not painted, but “written,” like a text, and they conform to prescribed modes of depicting their subject matter. They are created during a highly ritualized process that involves fasting and specific set prayers. They are not, then, “art” in the common sense of the word. They are very much religious objects and are meant to be contemplated as such. More precisely, as Williams writes, they are, in a way, meant to contemplate us, as they often seem to be staring right into the viewer, as if God were peering directly into our hearts.

The icons of Christ Williams has selected represent traditional Orthodox depictions of particular moments: the Transfiguration, the Resurrection, the Hospitality of Abraham (in which Christ appears as one of the Trinity), and his depiction as Pantocrator, which is Greek for “Lord of All.” He gently probes the meaning of each of the images, explaining along the way the visual strategy each has adopted for representing deeply moving and awe-inspiring Gospel truths. His tone is one of reverence, humility, and wonder about the actions of God as captured and revealed by these images, surfacing the deep theological import that lies within them, layer upon layer, built up like the painstakingly thick layers of paint that were applied to a simple wooden panel in order to create them.

The Archbishop, in ruminating on the icons, goes on to relate the moments shown in them to our lives, not in shallow and facile ways, but profound ones. He provides meditations on the theological bases for and implications of the images under consideration, and the deeply significant acts of God they portray.

Williams’ language and explanations are clear, precise, evocative, and spare. They are economical, like the icons themselves, diagramming only those parts of Orthodox theology and practice needed for communicating to the reader exactly what the Archbishop wants him or her to know.

This is an excellent introduction for anyone coming to icons for the first time. For those who know something about Orthodox icons and iconography, The Dwelling of the Light might seem elementary. Still, those individuals will also find it worth reading, if only to hear Archbishop Williams meditate on icons in his deeply personal and almost poetic way. For people of all levels of expertise, this book would make good adult study material, particularly for an Advent series (focused as this work is on incarnation), as background reading for a one-day talk on icons, or as preparation for a visit to a gallery where icons are displayed or, better yet, to an Orthodox church. As a small, attractive, and comparatively inexpensive hardcover book, it would also make a nice gift.

The Praying Life: Seeking God in All Things
By Deborah Smith Douglas
Morehouse, 2003
Book Review by Scott MacDougall

If you are thinking about exploring deeper ways of understanding and practicing prayer, this is a good book to get your hands on. Douglas has not written a scholarly treatise on the subject of prayer, but has produced a short, personal, evocative collection of previously published material on prayer likely to introduce new ways of approaching a life of prayer.

Douglas, a spiritual director and retreat leader, asserts that the praying life is characterized by a pattern: presence followed by recognition followed by self-giving. The presence of God is something we must come to recognize in our lives and, once we have, the desire for greater self-giving inevitably follows. Douglas believes that prayer is not done for its own sake. It is not meant to lead to a spiritual quietism, but directs the prayerful person out into the world, into action.

Along the way, Douglas discusses Ignatian approaches to prayer, the critical role of the imagination in prayer life, healthy uses of self-examination and St. Teresa of Avila’s stress on self-care in the life of the spirit, among many other topics. This is all done in a way that is accessible, yet smart and critical of easy sentimentality and laxity without being condemnatory. Her reminder, for instance, that the Bible does not describe angels as naked babies with wings but as powerful and terrifying presences comes as a welcome corrective to the spread of the current “angel culture” that has domesticated and commodified what is mysterious and awe-inspiring.

Douglas’ approach is fresh and frank, honest and straightforward, and very personal. Readers are likely to be engaged by her tone and by the stories of how she has grown in her own prayer life. This is a useful book for anyone interested in developing a more meaningful relationship with God and new ways of living in, and relating to, the world.

Playing Gospel Piano: The Basics
By Carl Maults
Church Publishing, 2003
Book Review by Louise Jonsson

The introduction provides a resource list for gospel music presently in print. This is followed, as the title tells us, by “The Basics” and a short history of the genre and techniques. The book gives examples of traditional and gospel settings for familiar and newer pieces. The increasing use of gospel settings is already enriching our worship.

Out of the Deep I Cry
By Julia Spencer-Fleming
St. Martin's Minotaur, 2004
Book Review by Neva Rae Fox

This book marks the third in the series of murder mysteries featuring Episcopal priest, the Rev. Clare Fergusson, and her friend and fellow crime-solver Police Chief Russ Van Alstyne in a small New York town located in the Diocese of Albany. And, for the third time, author Julia Spencer-Fleming delivers not just a prime mystery but also a telling exploration of life in a small town and the budding relationship between the main characters. In this book, today’s mystery is set against a backdrop of actions and tragedies occurring nearly 75 years ago. The past and present eventually merge into the solution of mysteries occurring in both times. In the meantime, she hits upon all-too-familiar topics, such as the roof in the 100-year-old Episcopal Church leaking. (How many of us have faced that exact scenario in our own churches?) Also, her sharing of the Easter vigil with the light overcoming the darkness is part of our Episcopal practices and heritage. The book presents a solid mystery (or mysteries), is well-paced, and is filled with action and humanity. There is no need to read the previous two Clare Fergusson mystery books before picking this one up, but it’s worth it if you do. As for me, I’m looking to #4, as they seem to keep getting better.