Sarx

I ended part one of this Rumination asking, “Is it useful for communities who consider themselves to be moving beyond older models to continue this model (of Ordained ministry and Apostolic Succession) or, if the goal is to move back to some older model (ie, the “Early Church”) how is that done?”

Over on Facebook, they added this application called “My Church”. (Props to +Rob for finding this.)

So… I’m adding it to my Facebook profile and it says “What church do you belong to?” Evidently it’s going to put the logo on my profile.

Mmm.

So I go on a quest to find the denomination(s) with the prettiest logo - or, at least - the ones that fit me. “Non-denominational” is an easy pick… but it’s just a cross on a snowy hillside. “Episcopal” is easy, but it’s still just the shield. United Church of Christ is the other one I have affinity for now, and they have a very pretty logo, indeed. “Anglican” has the best one - the compass rose, designed by my late and much-loved homiletics professor, Edward West. But picking that might make people think I was on the wrong side of the Anglican schism: and yes, I think there’s a wrong side. So I left “Episcopal” in the line up. I looked at “Orthodox” but they only had an odd version of the GOARCH logo. That wasn’t good enough at all - nor was it close to the truth. The United Church of Canada has some really cool things going on - and a really pretty shield. But I’ve not even visited one yet. There was no “emergent” options. Not that I expected there to be.

There’s my open source mix for now: Non-denomionational TEC/UCC.

What is Open source religion? There’s a ramble or two about this all over the net. The main one is here at Assignment Zero but it gets some meta coverage from Wired, and then the Wired story gets some meta-meta coverage from Get Religion (which is where I heard of it).

When we have open source software, the general idea is that someone, somewhere, has taken the time to write something that works but has turned around and left the source code open for others to tinker with. It’s an invitation to hack. No, wait, not hack: but to improve. The author expects you to find problems and fix them, or make suggestions and implement them and rerelease the improved version yourself. It’s like a cross between the ideas behind the Mr Potato Head™ and Mad Libs™.

Mr Potato Head™ is a small plastic potato and a collection of various eyes, ears, hands, lips, facial hair, feet, glasses and hats. Mix and match. Once I got my Mr Potato Head - with all his extra faces - my Grandfather got a plastic pear, a squash, a banana and a cucumber. I was the only kid on the block to have a Mister Cucumber!

MadLibs™ are interesting stories with empty spaces and the reader asks the listeners to fill in the spaces: “Give me a noun. I need an verb. A colour.” Of course the listener doesn’t know the context for the spaces she’s filling in. Once all the spaces are filled in, then the story is read back. “Once upon a time, there was a (noun) hot dog named (proper noun) Mister Cucumber.” Hilarity ensues. (This game was invented by a writer for the TV Series The Honeymooners!)

Open source religion would combine the mix and match of Mr Potato Head™ with the community input (and the ability to laugh) of MadLibs™.

And I can hear you squirming in your seats so don’t try to hide it.

The Wiki offers this definition:

Open source religions attempt to employ open source methodologies in the creation of religious belief systems. As such, their systems of beliefs are created through a continuous process of refinement and dialogue among the believers themselves. In comparison to traditional religions - which are considered authoritarian, hierarchical, and change-resistant - they emphasize participation, self-determination, decentralization, and evolution. Followers see themselves as part of a more generalized open source movement, which does not limit itself to software, but applies the same principles to other organized, group efforts to create human artifacts.

That Wiki Page also links to some other Open Source Religions.

Most religion is “Closed Source”. We pretend it to be unchanging “divine revelation” but what we really mean is some people, usually long dead, got to play MadLibs™ and Mr Potato Head™. The sculpture is made, the spaces are all filled in: and we can’t change a durn thing. We call this “tradition”. In the case of Orthodoxy (Christian, Jewish, etc) what this means is “We’ve done this for 1500 years because we’ve done this for 1500 years.” Of course that’s not true. Some things we’ve only done for 100 years. But we pretend they are much older anyway. The key issue is that, without some sort of covert action, nothing can change - at least that’s the official line. But things change! Everything changes all the time. Some times it’s subtle, sometimes it’s blatant. The idea of open source religion is to not be in denial about such change - and to encourage it, provided it makes things better.

Open source religion acknowledges that *most* of religion, far from being divinely revealed, is simply what humanity does in response to the Holy.

I’m ok with that.

The thing that made me cringe most in in the Newage world was not the superfluity of options, but that each one claimed “divine” or “channelled” sources. I kept asking, “What’s wrong with saying, ‘This is something I made up once and it works: would you like to try it?’” I would have paid good money for a book that said that in the introduction. “Hi, I wrote this down because it works and I thought I’d share it with you. If it works, cool. If not, cool.” Elu v’elu divrei Elohim Chayim, as the Rabbinic tradition says, “Your words (to one side of the argument) and your words (to the other side) are both of the Living God.”

That’s what I like about the Emergent movement currently happening within all ecclesial communities and about the renewal movement happening in Judaism: there’s a sense of access to all the spiritual technologies available out there. That sense is not limited by denominational issues (in most cases) and in some cases not even by faith tradition. It is liberating to think the point of being a Christian one is simply following Jesus and finding ways to do that: it’s not a matter of doctrinal issues or purity. It’s certainly not a matter of denominational allegiance or who’s in communion with whom (on a Patriarchal level).

It is, however, a matter of being in communion, of being as communion or, more to the point, of communion as being. The kingdom of God is a communion, a community present and active. And yes it does include the “living” and the “dead” (as if there were a line between those two). But the dead don’t have a vote: their cultural ways have passed and what worked for them needn’t work for us now. Our communion - the one that needs the work, anyway - is with those who stand around us on Sunday. And that brings us back to where I last was, ruminating on Eucharist.

Building on that communion is, of course, the Eucharist; or more correctly that communion builds on the Eucharist. Our modern ideas, built up over time seem to posit an ordained person, defined as needed, to be leader of the Eucharistic gathering. But it is the gathering - not the leader thereof - that is important. Among those communities which have communion at all even without any sacramental ideas about clergy ask the clergy to lead the communion service, furthering the separate class image. A given Sunday might have a special preacher, ordained or not, or even an entire service led by the youth, etc. But when it comes time to say the blessing over bread and wine, the “real” preacher or pastor will be the one to do it. Beyond any speculation about what the bread and the wine may actually “be” after we bless them, this gets to the real heart of Ordination, I think.

Ordination rises within a denominational context. A minister is considered the “celebrant” (rather than the community which all celebrates together). An Orthodox priest is the “Guardian of the Chalice”, keeping the unworthy away. Ministers are, really, not only the leader of the local community but also the representative of the denominational structure giving their institutional blessing to the local event. Is ordination at all important outside of a denominational context? Is it possible to let the Eucharist itself - and the communion that grows from it - be our boundary?

Within the Jewish Tradition as within some strands of Christianity, is the idea that the head of the house is priest at the table which, within the home, serves as the altar. Thus a father blesses his children at night or on the Sabbath. The same is seen in the Old Testament as dying patriarchs bless their children. I wonder if when Paul refers to “the church that meets in so-and-so’s house” if so-and-so mightn’t be the liturgical leader there. The person who so presides at the domestic altar is the presbyter - “The one who presides”. This title indicates a function rather than a position. When the RC Bishops in America did a new translation of the Ordination Rite (in the late 80s or early 90s) John Paul II rightly complained that Presbyter was not the same as Priest. We put a lot of magic into that office of priest. Presbyter is simply a host at table.

The “choice” one might make between TEC, UCC and Non-denomination (add any others to the list you wish) can be seen as a choice between “worship styles” but really, on the denominational level, it’s a choice between Closed Source institutions and their local representatives: ordained clergy.

If one wishes to move beyond such, what Open Source models are there wherein Eucharist can be celebrated and what would they look like?