Of all the folks here at the River Thames Beach Party, I feel the least qualified to be writing here. I have absolutely no real theological education, and am more confident writing about how to build a sheep feeder or offering my thoughts on firearms and shooting craft. My prolonged silence at the Beach Party has been in part because I have gotten so much out of reading what my brothers have written. After reading everyone else I feel like an intellectual pauper.
The Anglican way was in part the way of my family. Two of my grandparents (paternal grandma and maternal grandpa) were both confirmed communicants of the Episcopal Church. In general, the country folk in my family attended Presbyterian churches, and the town kin attended Episcopal churches. This was not unusual, as the part of the upper Ohio Valley I grew up in is also known as the “Presbyterian Valley”. I was baptized into a Presbyterian denomination that no longer exists; the body having been absorbed into the PCUSA.
My Anglican family members on my mother’s side impressed me at an early age with their inherent dignity and charity, especially my grandfather and his siblings. While not wealthy, (children of an English coal miner) they had a great deal of self respect in their bearing. They also practiced kindness and charity in a way that was not showy, and lacked some of the more narrow and judgmental attitude of the pietistic influenced Presbyterianism.
My earliest attraction to Anglicanism was the timeless beauty of the hymns and liturgy. However, I must also confess that I never really internalized the Gospel until I passed nearly 50 years on this earth. I have attended a number of churches or various stripes. I served as a vestryman and token conservative in a pretty liberal Episcopal Church. My wife is Eastern Orthodox, and I genuinely tried for years to fit into her church tradition (The results of this was pretty miserable for me). I also was never really secure in my relationship with God. If there is any thing odd about my journey it is how someone could spent so much time in church and never really “get” the Gospel. I finally had l a “Martin Luther moment”, and came to several conclusions:
While the World is a beautiful place, I have seen enough of it to believe there is something very very wrong. As I grow older and better understand myself, I also realized that I am no better than the World around me.
In a world of radical evil in every direction, the only thing that can expunge that evil is blood atonement provided by an innocent.
We are fortunate in that God has chosen to expunge that evil by his own blood, in a horrible humiliating death upon the Cross.
Without the centrality of this Gospel, all Christianity is pietistic, and the pietist can pick his poison. The pietist can:
-buy an indulgence, attend a Latin daily Mass, and shop for every trinket Mother Angelica sells
-sell your car, cut off the electric, and grow a beard
-move to the desert, learn the Jesus prayer, and fast on raw vegetables
-Stop drinking and smoking, quit dancing, comb your hair like a helmet, and litter the countryside with Bible tracts thrown from your car window
-Focus on earthly justice for any of the oppressed nations or classes du jour
None of these practices are bad things, dependent upon ones individual circumstance (Except perhaps the littering). While I personally did not try them all, I always looked for something to do. However, none of these things will ever save us. Before my thick head finally got the Gospel, my experience with Christianity was a seesaw from enthusiasm/Pharisaic to depression/despair. Perhaps ironically, I first heard the Gospel in a way I could understand it from Lutherans; not Anglicans (Thank you Todd Wilken and Issues, etc. You changed my life forever)
However, at the same time as I came to this understanding, a miracle happened. God saw fit to raise up a new Anglican Church in my hometown. Part of the mission of this church was to use the historic prayer book as a means to “focus on the redeeming work of the crucified and risen Christ, and boldly, without compromise, proclaim the unconditional Gospel of God’s Grace through word and Sacrament”. The historic Prayer Book and the 39 Articles do this work wonderfully, without some of the over-defining and infighting of certain other Reformed bodies. While I have come late to the party, there is still a richness of comfort. If I can help spread anything about the richness of the Anglican way, it is that genuine comfort for a World that needs it.
I do not like to talk about it, but I have battled depression my whole adult life. While I was slow to get it, I take great solace from the Gospel. When I am really low, I turn to two things: The “comfortable words” from the communion service in my prayer book, and a picture of the Weimar altar piece that I keep on my office wall. It is my prayer that these might comfort others as well.

John Henry Newman (1801-1890) is off to a good start in the process of becoming a saint in the Roman Catholic Church. For Anglicans to then dismiss him as a convert and to let Roman Catholicism entirely appropriate his legacy would be a mistake, in my mind. Similarly, it would be regretful if the only Anglicans who held the torch for Newman were of the High Church, Anglo-Catholic, and Anglo-Papalist varieties. Newman is representative of the unique tension of Anglicanism, the tension created by the pull toward purity (doctrinal or otherwise) that exists in all churches on the one hand and the pull toward breadth. Allow me to illustrate this by referring to a particular post and comment on my personal blog (





