Since being confirmed in the Anglican Church (Anglican Province of America; APA) at the start of this past Advent season (2022) and the months leading up to it, I’ve been asked by a handful of people why my family and I decided to make this transition. Many who know me know that since 2016 I had been a Reformed Presbyterian within the Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church (ARP), and held very identical doctrine to that of the Scottish Covenanters. To go from being a full subscriber to the Westminster Standards, and an ardent defender of the regulative principle to someone who joyfully observes the church calendar and worships in a church filled with incense and icons of the Saints and of Christ is quite a stark change. I’d like to take time now to address some of the history of this transition and the key points of doctrine that I began to wrestle through.
2020 was an eventful year for a handful of reasons, the top of the list being my third child, our first daughter, Ella was born. At the time of her birth (early February) I began reading and studying more about the Federal Vision controversy, as well as on the subject of baptismal efficacy. When I first began studying infant baptism back in 2014, Doug Wilson came onto my radar. After becoming Presbyterian in 2016, I soon learned that Doug Wilson was not a figure to always go to for sound theology. This was, in part, due to the dust-up that occurred concerning the Federal Vision controversy in the early 2000s. Yet, I came to read some of Wilson’s parenting and marriage books to much personal benefit. This led to me wanting to study the issues surrounding the Federal Vision controversy for myself. Despite what some of my Presbyterian brothers would like me to say here, the Federal Vision did not lead to me becoming Anglican. Not, at least, in any definitive way. What it did reveal to me, however, was the looming theological issues present in much of modern, and historic, Reformed Presbyterianism. While the Federal Vision raised many valid questions and concerns, it failed to provide, in most cases, a sufficient answer. Some of these questions and concerns touched upon the efficacy of the sacraments, the nature of the Church, and, inadvertently, the authority of the Church.
As the Winter of 2020 came around, I was pretty well versed on the relevant books pertaining to the Federal Vision movement and found myself holding to a greater view of baptismal efficacy than my former Presbyterian self would have allowed (as well as embracing paedocommunion). No longer did I believe Baptism merely brought one into the covenant community of the visible church as distinct from the “invisible,” but now I believed that it brought the baptized into a vital union with the living Christ and made them part of his mystical body. This did not come as a result of reading Wilson, Leithart, or Jordan, but rather came as a result of reading Anglican theologian M.F. Sadler’s work “The Second Adam and the New Birth.” At this same time, I had become less convinced of the Papacy being the Antichrist and had begun reading Richard Hooker’s “Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity” alongside a section in Calvin’s Institutes that pertained to religious ceremonies and conscience. As a Presbyterian, the regulative principle undergirded much of my views pertaining to any actions done in worship, or whether or not the church had any authority to institute religious holidays. I had previously rejected any such allowance for religious holidays or ceremonies such as kneeling in prayer or before the Eucharist or doing the sign of the cross on oneself. But, as I began rereading in Calvin about the nature of religious ceremonies and how, when used superstitiously, they can become vile and blasphemous, that nevertheless they remained inherently indifferent and when used rightly could be genuine acts of piety, I began to see the foundations laid for Richard Hooker’s work to build upon. By now I had given up many of the “Covenanter Dogmas” (a coy comparison to Rome’s Marian dogmas).
As 2021 rolled around, I had become thoroughly convinced that Calvin, in principle, would have far more in common with Richard Hooker than he would with the overzealous desires of Samuel Rutherford or George Gillespie for further liturgical reform. This was largely due to the work of Dr. Torrence Kirby and his works detailing the connection between Hooker’s Two Kingdom theology with that of the Reformers on the continent. This utterly upended the arguments from the non-conforming party that these ceremonies and holidays were idolatrous and encroached upon the conscience of believers, as well as any attempt to bring a defense from the likes of Calvin. It was at this point I began utilizing the 1662 Book of Common Prayer in my private devotions and as a family and began to appreciate the didactical nature of a well-ordered and full-bodied liturgy. At this point, I was still a member of the ARP and considered myself more of a prayer book Presbyterian than an Anglican. I was still in favor of Presbyterian polity, but my view on ceremonies and the strength with which I held the Regulative Principle began to wane. No longer did I believe in exclusive psalmody, but my family began to enjoy many of the Church’s hymns. All I had gained at this point was a recognition of the Anglican tradition as being within the bounds of the broader Reformed tradition. Some who knew me during this time may remember me defending the 39 Articles and the Prayer Book as having a place within various confessions of the Reformation. It wasn’t until later in 2021 that I began to study the Episcopacy and begin to formulate a view of Apostolic Succession that made sense of both history, and the text of Scripture.
As the year progressed I began to accept the arguments, primarily from Scripture, in favor of the Episcopate. I also began studying more in-depth my view on the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist. I also took on a much more ecumenical mindset as it pertained to the East and Rome, which to this point would probably be the largest leap I had made theologically. Prior I had held each in low esteem, believing both to be apostate institutions that actively engaged in and promoted gross idolatry. Now, I recognized their place within the Church of Christ, though in error on various points that would keep me from joining either of them; nevertheless, I began to read more widely from each tradition. Men like Fr. Alexander Schmeman and S. Thomas Aquinas began to help shape and form my theology. This, in hindsight, seems to have been a necessary consequence of my views on the sacrament of baptism and the unity of Christ’s body. It was also in 2021 that my family and I began regularly attending and undergoing catechesis at an Anglican parish. This is the same one that, come years end, we would receive the sacrament of confirmation in. Up until our confirmation, we remained members in our ARP congregation but due to personal reasons had taken time away at the blessing of our Session.
As we underwent catechesis within the APA, I began embracing a more Anglo-Catholic approach to the English reformation, though as my Anglo-Catholic brothers will readily say, I at times still retain much of my protestant moorings. While I am more open to questioning some of the arguments and conclusions of various Reformers, I still find much good to be gathered from the best luminaries that came out of the Reformation. I still have a fond affinity with the term “Reformed Catholic,” and I believe that as an Anglo-Catholic one does not need to write off the Reformation as a lost cause. With that said, I do find that those who still wish to identify with the Reformed tradition must take a long and honest look at history (I do not presume to have accomplished this by any means, but strive to do such) and view the arguments offered from each side and weigh the merits upon their own consistency and fidelity to Scripture and to the testimony of those who have come before us, rather than continue to divide upon party lines formed more upon polemical rhetoric than a sure founding upon truth.
In short, this is a brief overview of the history of my family and my departure from Presbyterianism and into Anglicanism. The main theological areas that nudged me into the particular communion we are in would be as follows:
Apostolic Succession and the Episcopate.
The lawfulness of religious ceremonies and holidays.
Sacramental Efficacy
Conciliar authority of general councils.
The nature of the Church (visible/invisible).
Intercession of the Saints and prayers to the Saints.
These are in no particular order of importance, and I have not sought to defend any of these views in this article. This entry exists as the first of two parts detailing my theological journey. Part 1 deals primarily with the historical timeline, and part 2 will provide brief defenses of the above views. It was not an easy one for my family and me. We made many close friendships in part upon my ardent belief in traditional Presbyterian doctrine and leaving this tradition has been met with mixed responses. Some have maintained the same level of friendship, while others have become obviously strained. Some regard me as a brother in Christ, while others have considered me an Apostate, a liar, and a deceiver. It has been an incredibly humbling experience for me. Those who knew me over the past few years would recall very arrogant statements about my theological positions. I often would boast about the distinctive theology that set me apart from other Christians and maintained that I would die a Presbyterian. This, obviously, is not the case anymore. There is something incredibly refreshing in submitting oneself to the original sources and seeking out the truth regardless of party lines. The work of personal theological reform is a slow process and is an endeavor that should be accompanied by sincerity and a humble admittance that we can get things wrong. I hope that each part, both the personal and the theological, will provide a sense of solidarity and encouragement amongst others who have made, or are making, a similar transition.