Cultural irrelevance or cultural presence? Two Christmas messages and their meaning for Anglicanism

While most of us were still tucking into festive mince pies on 27th December, the Bishop-elect of the Diocese of British Columbia in the Anglican Church of Canada took to Twitter to chastise the United Conservative Party of Alberta, the governing party in that province (the UCP won the 2019 election with 54% of the vote, to the Opposition NDP's 33%).  What had the UCP done to deserve such a public rebuke from a Bishop-elect?  

The UCP had quoted Scripture in a Christmas Tweet.  Yes, this was the offence.  

Now one might have thought that an Anglican Bishop-elect could have quietly approved of a political party speaking in the public square in a manner which reflected the truth that Christmas is not merely a social and commercial festival but is rooted in the celebration of the Incarnation (with all of its consequences for our common life and respecting the dignity of all).  But no.  The Bishop-elect strongly disapproved.

She did so on two grounds.  We are told that the Tweet quoting Isaiah 9:6 indicated a "wholly inappropriate inference of divine sanction for their government". To say that this is a perverse reading of the Tweet is to be charitable.  It is, frankly, absurdly silly.  The use of the KJV version of Isaiah 9:6 - the NRSV uses 'authority' rather than 'government' - is testament to the continued cultural resonance of the KJV ... not a sign of impending theocracy in Alberta.  

Then we come to the main reason for the Bishop-elect's disapproval.  For this we have to imagine Michael Scott as a first year seminarian:

'Don't be silly.  It's not about Jesus.  It's about Hezekiah, obviously.'  Of course, Our Lord says otherwise: "which were written in the law of Moses, and in the prophets, and in the psalms, concerning me".  And Saint Matthew's Gospel explicitly presents Jesus as the fulfilment of Isaiah 9 (Matthew 3:14).  The Anglican Church of Canada - entirely unsurprisingly, for this is what Christians do - also recommends in its lectionary Isaiah 9:2-7 for the Christmas Eucharist.  This is not because Isaiah 9:6 is defined by reference to Hezekiah.

When Christians read and preach the scriptures of the Old Testament as fulfilled in Jesus, we are not denying their possible original reference, even if in many cases this is almost certainly lost to us.  (Unless, that is, the Bishop-elect has some special knowledge regarding the intention of the author of Isaiah 9.)  What we are saying, however, is that for Christians the principal reference of these scriptures is their fulfilment in Jesus Christ.  Which is precisely why the Anglican Church of Canada includes Isaiah 9:2-7 as a reading for the Christmas Eucharist.

Leaving aside the Bishop-elect's absurd theocratic reading of the use of Isaiah 9:6 and the theological emptiness of the suggestion that the reading of the Old Testament scriptures in the canonical Gospels and Epistles is to be rejected, there is another no less depressing aspect of this particular intervention.  It embodies the desire of significant elements within Canadian Anglicanism to retreat into a progressive sectarianism, isolated from the mainstream of Canadian life, rejecting any sense that Christianity should have a cultural resonance.  

There are some grounds for questioning aspects of the UCP Christmas Tweet.  A slightly more low key nativity scene, perhaps without a quote from Scripture (which can be a hostage to fortune, particularly on social media), may have been politically prudent while yet recognising the Christian root of Christmas.  Recognition of the festivals of other faith traditions is also appropriate for a conservative political party seeking to affirm the place of religion in the public square.  That said, the UCP Christmas Tweet was a conventional Christmas greeting, using imagery and wording which reflects the Christian origins of Christmas, seen on many Christmas cards, echoing what is heard at Carol Services.   All unobjectionable and quite ordinary.  A progressive sectarianism, however, rejects such cultural resonances and connections.  This also is reflected in its haughty - one might even say, elite - disapproval of popular religion, such as reading Isaiah 9:6 as having obvious reference to Jesus Christ.  Such an Anglicanism is, of course, not new.  It is tedious Spong-ism, heated up for the 21st century, but still the same desire to retreat from the cultural mainstream and heroically embrace cultural irrelevance.  

Thankfully on Christmas Day another Anglican pointed to a very different way forward for Anglicanism.  And her reach was considerably greater than the 669 retweets achieved by the Bishop-elect of British Columbia.  Her Majesty the Queen's Christmas Address showed how Anglican Christianity could still speak to a secular, diverse society, offering an account of Christian faith and life at once meaningful and resonant, ordinary and 'common'.

The Queen began with a gentle but clear statement of Christian hope:

Every year we herald the coming of Christmas by turning on the lights. And light does more than create a festive mood —light brings hope.

For Christians, Jesus is ‘the light of the world’.

Notice what happens here.  A common cultural practice, Christmas lights, is embraced, not rejected as sentimental, emotional, or bourgeois.  It is interpreted as a sign of a profound Christological claim, a claim repeated without embarrassment.  And it understood in terms of the theological virtue of hope.

From this Christological basis (cf. John 1:4), and reflecting the rich Anglican tradition of natural theology, other faith traditions are generously affirmed as bearers of goodness and truth:

People of all faiths have been unable to gather as they would wish for their festivals, such as Passover, Easter, Eid, and Vaisakhi ... Last month, fireworks lit up the sky around Windsor, as Hindus, Sikhs and Jains celebrated Diwali, the festival of lights, providing joyous moments of hope and unity.

The Queen then invoked one of the most popular images in stained glass windows in Anglican parish churches:

Jesus touched on this with the parable of the Good Samaritan. The man who is robbed and left at the roadside is saved by someone who did not share his religion or culture. This wonderful story of kindness is still as relevant today.  Good Samaritans have emerged across society showing care and respect for all, regardless of gender, race or background, reminding us that each one of us is special and equal in the eyes of God. 

The Good Samaritan embodies the communal obligations and duties at the heart of Anglican social teaching (probably explaining the popularity of stained glass depictions).  This can be lived out by all in the ordinary routines of domestic and communal life - in stark contrast to the progressive sectarians who, as latter day Anabaptists, urge an activist minority to engage in subversion and civil disobedience (yes, the Bishop-elect of British Columbia again).

In the conclusion to her address, the Queen summarised the Christmas story:

The Bible tells how a star appeared in the sky, its light guiding the shepherds and wise men to the scene of Jesus’s birth. Let the light of Christmas — the spirit of selflessness, love and above all hope — guide us in the times ahead. 

One can only imagine how an edgy, radical Bishop-elect might respond to such a conventional account of the Lord's birth ('the Christmas star - really?').  It is, however, the very absence of iconoclasm in the Queen's words which ensures their resonance, recognising the power of the imagery of the star in a dark time, and emphasising how the Incarnation calls us in ordinary routines and responsibilities to live out selflessness, love and hope.

The difference between the Queen's Christmas address and the Bishop-elect's Christmas intervention is stark.  In the intervention of the Bishop-elect we see Anabaptism in a mitre, rejecting the cultural presence and ordinary social obligations which enable Christian faith to take root and shape the common good, supported by supposedly 'radical' theological insights which are little more than a re-run of an exhausted, banal theology from the late 20th century.  In the Queen's Christmas address, by contrast, we see an authentic and classical Anglican commitment to cultural presence and the common good, flowing from Scripture and Common Prayer, in which shepherds and wise men are more faithful and compelling witnesses than a 'radical' cleric informing us that the hope of the people walking in darkness was actually a long dead Ancient Near East king in the 8th century Before the Common Era.