Episcopalian piety from a time of conflict: significance, influence, and lessons

What struck me most when reading Fiona McCall's excellent Baal's Priests: The Loyalist Clergy and the English Revolution (2013), was its identification of an Episcopalian piety emerging out of the experience of the defeat of the Royalist and Episcopalian cause, a piety which would particularly shape and characterise Anglicanism during the 'long 18th century'. 

The first reference to this Episcopalian piety ('Episcopalian' is here used in light of the anachronistic nature of 'Anglican') might give us pause for thought, an apparent stepping away from scriptural discourse:

During the 1640s, loyalist clergy had been just as inclined as the 'godly' to pepper their discourse with biblical quotations ... But, after defeat, Anglican discourse eschewed this scriptural focus, developing what some have seen as a characteristic 'conservative Anglican' style: meditative, obscure, ambiguous and symbolic (p.28f).

This reserve, however, points to, encourages, and represents a wise, prudent pastoral and spiritual approach, which creates space for self-examination and discernment, rather than easily assuming, through a consistent use of phrases from Scripture, that the purposes of providence and the divine presence can be immediately assumed and grasped. A more "meditative, obscure, ambiguous and symbolic" form of discourse - forsaking easy assumptions and quick judgements - provides for the modest, quiet, gentle approach to pastoral care and the spiritual life which became characteristic of Anglicanism.

Surprisingly, in light of the experiences of the 1640s and 50s, McCall also highlights how Episcopalian piety was deeply sceptical of a straightforward assumption that equated persecution with divine vindication:

It not being reasonable or rational to court unnecessary suffering, many Anglican theologians argued against it. Robert Sanderson wrote that "a man may without disparagement ... decline dangers, according to the dictates of prudence". God is better pleased with us for relieving and comforting others in their affliction ... than for afflicting our own souls and bodies", wrote Thomas Jackson. Real suffering was not something that the individual could control, "God hath made no promise either when or in what measure he means to afflict us", wrote Jackson. Theophilus Wodenote also struck a note of caution, arguing against simplistic equations of degree of suffering with degree of righteousness or heavenly reward, "Neither rashly thrust thyself into any needless affliction .." ... Many Anglican writers of this period warned against the presupposition that suffering for a deeply felt cause counted as martyrdom (p.140f).

This scepticism regarding what McCall describes as an "ecclesiology of persecution" provides a wise, prudent alternative to Enthusiasms which too readily assume divine approval on the basis of opposition (whether ecclesial or secular). Similarly, in a context of Christians persecuting each other, an "ecclesiology of persecution" too easily becomes sectarian and triumphalist. Not unrelated to this, an "eeclesiology of persecution" too easily overlooks how such occurrences can also be motivated by political allegiances, not easily mapped unto the kingdom of God.

Finally, McCall turns to another contrast between the Episcopalian and Non-Conformist pieties of the era:

Unbridled emotion is often treated as a positive quality in nonconformist writings, where 'weeping sessions' figure frequently. But Anglicans of the period stressed head over heart, "there is little Eros in Caroline devotion" writes McAdoo. Stoic philosophy, with its belief in the importance of exemplary fortitude in the face of difficulties, and in the subordination of emotion to reason, enjoyed a vogue in the early seventeenth century. Two notable followers, Joseph Hall and Jeremy Taylor, were both sequestered loyalists (p.186f).

Noting that Hall the Calvinist and Taylor the Arminian represented contrasting theological traditions, their shared Stoical approach indicated a common piety, a piety which exercised a wise caution regarding the emotions and their place in the spiritual life. This, of course, became a defining characteristic of 18th century Anglican piety. It is precisely because of the power of the emotions to disorder, mislead, and deceive that the spiritual life should know a prudent, reasonable scepticism regarding the emotions.

The influence of this Episcopalian piety outlined by McCall is, as has been said, particularly evident in 18th century Anglicanism. This might make us ask to what extent the experience of the Wars of the Three Kingdoms - of Enthusiasm, religious war, and immodest ecclesial claims - were significant in shaping characteristic aspects of Episcopalian and Anglican piety. At the same time, we might also look backwards from the Wars of the Three Kingdoms, and recognise this Episcopalian piety of those decades as having important roots in the Elizabethan Settlement, in Hooker, and in the ordinary parish life of the Jacobean and Caroline churches. And then we can also, I think, recognise in McCall's description continued and ongoing characteristics of Anglican piety, not unfamiliar to many Anglican and Episcopalian congregations today.

Rather than dismissing the Episcopalian piety of the 1640 and 50s, identified by McCall, as formal and cold, we might see here much wisdom for contemporary Anglicanism This is particularly so in a cultural context suspicious of religious discourse and appeals, regarding these as inherently divisive, irrational, and self-serving. We see in the Episcopalian piety which emerged from the Wars of the Three Kingdoms, from the experience of the defeat of the Royalist and Episcopalian cause, a Hookerian refusal to exercise quick and easy judgements, preferring thoughtful discernment; a rejection of a sectarian 'ecclesiology of persecution', and the assumption of divine vindication, rather than a wise recognition that opposition and criticism does not equate to martyrdom; and a caution regarding the emotions in the religious life, understanding that the emotions can much too easily be regarded as justifying claims and stances which undermine the peace and quietness of church and polity. 

Such wisdom and prudence, rooted in the apostolic vocation to "lead a quiet and peaceable life", should continue to characterise an Anglicanism seeking to witness to gospel and kingdom in societies of the mid-21st century, shadowed as they are by culture wars, new Enthusiasms (religious and secular), and profound confusions in the face of religious claims.