'Those from whom you come': Advent Ember Week and Atterbury's December 1709 sermon to the Sons of the Clergy

In this Advent Ember Week, we return to Atterbury's 'A Sermon preached before the Sons of the Clergy', preached in December 1709. As the name of the charity suggested, many of its members were sons of those in holy orders - and not a few of these were themselves in holy orders. Reflecting this, the sermon rejoiced in what has been a characteristic of Anglicanism over centuries, the common experience of clergy being descended from clergy:

If then others may be allowed to glory in their birth, why may not we? whose parents were called by God to attend on him at his altar? were intrusted with the dispensation of his sacraments, with the ministry of reconciliation, with the power of binding and loosing? were set apart to take heed to the flock of Christ, Acts xx. 28, over which the Holy Ghost made them overseers, and to feed the church of God, which he purchased with his own blood; to hold forth the word of life, to speak, to exhort, and to rebuke with all authority? Tit. ii. 15. If any station, any employment upon earth, be honourable, theirs was; and their posterity therefore have no reason to blush at the memory of such an original.

As can be seen, Atterbury is also setting forth an understanding of ordained ministry in the Church of England: unembarrassed about use of 'altar', emphasising administration of the Sacraments, and confidently asserting the apostolic nature of holy orders in the Church of England. This was further evident in his declaration of apostolic succession:

If antiquity and along track of time ennoble families, those, from whom you come, can trace their spiritual pedigree up even to Him, who was the founder of the church of the first-born, and of whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named. Let others justify their mission, as they can we judge not those without; but are sure, we can justify that of our fathers, by an uninterrupted succession, from Christ himself; a succession, which hath already continued longer than the Aaronical priesthood, and will, we doubt not, still continue, till the church militant, and time itself shall be no more.

This appeal to "an uninterrupted succession" was quite conventional in the 18th century Church of England, combined with - as had been the case with earlier Laudian commentary - a determination not to unchurch the non-episcopal Continental churchesy. It did, however, emphasise the particular character and claims of the Church of England, what we might term a 'native ecclesial patriotism': a robust pride and confidence in Anglicanism often absent from 21st century Anglican discourse. This too was evident in Atterbury's sermon:

But our further boast is, brethren, that we have our rise, as from the clergy of Christ; so particularly from those of the church of England; a clergy, that for soundness of doctrine and depth of learning, for purity of religion and integrity of life, for a zeal in things pertaining to God, that is, according to knowledge, and yet duly tempered with candour and prudence, (which is the true notion of that much talked of, much misunderstood virtue, moderation,) I say, a clergy, that on these, and many other accounts, is not exceeded, if to be paralleled, in the christian world.

In his 2016 article 'Primitive Christianity revived: religious renewal in Augustan England', Eamon Duffy pointed to "the new assurance" of Anglicanism at the Restoration that it was the embodiment of the Primitive Church, which contributed to a flowering of patristic study within the Church of England. This is mentioned by Atterbury as another reason for pride and confidence in the Church of England, 

Ye are the sons of a clergy, whose undissembled and unlimited veneration for the holy Scriptures hath not hindered them from paying an inferior, but profound regard to the best interpreters of Scripture, the primitive writers; in whose works as none have been more conversant than they, so none have made a better use of them towards reviving a spirit of primitive piety in themselves and others. And their searches and endeavours of this kind have been blessed with a remarkable success. For, as to the earliest and most valuable remains of pure antiquity, (such as those of Barnabas, and Clement, an Ignatius, and Polycarp) I may safely venture to say, that the members of this church have done more towards either bringing them to light, or freeing them from corruption, or illustrating their doctrine, or asserting their authority, than the members of any church, or indeed of all the churches in all the world.

Indeed, Atterbury reflected this reverence for "the primitive writers" in his sermon, by quoting from "St. Chrysostom in his admirable treatise of the priesthood" (then recently published by a clergyman of the Church of England, a "Mr Hughes of Jesus College, Cambridge" - noted in the preface to the sermon):

a treatise which next to the sacred pages themselves, and the offices of ordination prescribed by our church, is, I am persuaded, of the greatest use to give us true impressions of the dignity and duties of the priesthood, and to warn us into resolutions of acting in every case, as becomes our sacred character. 

Atterbury's sermon makes for fitting reading during Advent Ember Week. It reminds us of what it is to be "called by God to attend on him at his altar", of the significance of the claim to an "uninterrupted succession" from the apostles, and of Anglicanism's historic commitment to study of "the primitive writers". 

It also highlights something which contemporary Anglicanism too frequently dismisses with embarrassment and the declining frequency of which is very much a loss: clerical families producing a new generation of clergy. I have once, about a decade ago, heard a learned priest mention this in private conversation, regarding it as being a not insignificant factor in the loss of a goodly clerical culture within Anglicanism. It is not, of course, the case that clerical families producing new clergy is something which can be manufactured. But, perhaps, we can learn from Atterbury how we might begin again to speak positively of it, encouraging it, that future generations of clergy and laity may know this blessing.

(The picture is of Rochester Cathedral, Atterbury's see 1713-23.)