How far these attitudes are from the depiction of the Church in the New Testament! "I will build my church, and the powers of death shall not prevail against it" (Mat 16:18 RSV); "God obtained his church... with the blood of his own Son" (Act 20:28 RSV); "Christ ... [is] the head over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all" (Eph 1:22-2:1 RSV); "through the church the manifold wisdom of God [may] now be made known to the principalities and powers in the heavenly places" (Eph 3:10 RSV); "Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish" (Eph 5:25-27 RSV); "Christ nourishes and cherishes the church, because we are members of his body" (Eph 5:29-30 RSV); "This mystery is a profound one, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church" (Eph 5:32 RSV); "The Church of the living God [is] the pillar and bulwark of the truth" (1Ti 3:15 RSV).

When Bishops Keith Ackerman and Michael Nazir Ali planned this conference, their aim was to help us to dig behind the presenting symptoms of our day. A "faulty ecclesiology"--that is, a mistaken doctrine of the Church--was one of the root difficulties that they discerned. Ecclesiology appears to be the major point of debate among thoughtful Christians in the twenty-first century. This is a natural development from our global awareness and the failure of the Protestant experiment, as major denominations implode, and novel communities multiply like rabbits. There is also a new-found interest in what is called the "Great Tradition" of the Church, by those weary of novelty and in search of roots. What IS the Church? Where is she to be found? What are her characteristics? This has been, indeed, my own search over the past 40 or so years, as I moved from the nonsacramental and missional Salvation Army, through a significant sojourn of 25 years as an Anglican (with a small detour midway in a "non-denominational" community) and into the ancient Orthodox Church, specifically the Antiochian jurisdiction, where Christians first took their name, in the days of the apostle Paul. In the Salvation Army, I met Jesus; in the Anglican communion, I grew to love worship; in Orthodoxy, I meet the Church, with all her saints, past and present. I am delighted that his Grace Bishop Ackerman counts me his dear friend, and that he has trusted me to speak to you about the nature of the Church: it is wonderful to be gathered with you all again!

This morning we will fasten upon the nature of the Church as apostolic, conciliar and concrete.

I First, what does it mean to be apostolic?

Here we probe the very identity of the Church, who she is and with whom she is in fellowship. As St. Paul puts it, "God has appointed in the church first apostles" (1Co 12:28 RSV). His words should be uncontroversial, for they describe the actual flow of Church history. Our Lord chose twelve and said to them: "those who receive you receive me and the One who sent me." But this is not simply a historical reality, as though the apostles were merely the first witnesses or officers. Their first-ness, their primacy, is also a mysterious present reality: consider John's Holy City with its "twelve foundations, and on them the twelve names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb" (Rev 21:14 RSV). What does one see when one looks at the Church?--first and foremost, the apostles!

Acts two describes for us the fledgling Church, giving a little vignette so that we can see how it looked, and understand better where we have come from. In the first place, the early Church was in the company of the Twelve.

And they devoted themselves to the teaching and the fellowship of the apostles, to the breaking and the prayers of the bread. And awe came upon every soul, and many wonders and signs were being done through the apostles. And all who believed were together and had all things in common. (Acts 2:42-44)

Look closely! Here, in the Greek, Luke paints for us a word picture, placing the words "of the apostles" between the words for teaching and communion (or fellowship): the didachē OF THE APOSTLES and the koinōnia OF THE APOSTLES. This apostolic teaching and koinōnia is followed by a parallel structure that details the breaking of the bread and the prayers--perhaps the prayers of, or concerning the bread? When they gathered in worship with the twelve, then, they received the apostolic witness and teaching in the Liturgy of the Word (we Orthodox speak of the "little Entrance") and then they moved with the apostles into the Eucharist (for we Orthodox, the Great Entrance). Well, what was that teaching? What was that koinonia?

Listen in on Peter's sermon found also in Acts 2:
22 "Men of Israel, hear these words: Jesus of Nazareth, a man attested to you by God with cmighty works and wonders and signs that God did through him in your midst, as you yourselves know--23 this Jesus, adelivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God, you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men.
24 God raised him up, loosing the pangs of death, because it was not possible for him to be held by it. 25 For David says concerning him, "'I saw the Lord always before me, for he is at my right hand that I may not be shaken;
26 therefore my heart was glad, and my tongue rejoiced; my flesh also will dwell in hope.27 For you will not abandon my soul to Hades, or let your Holy One see corruption.28 You have made known to me the paths of life; you will make me full of gladness with your presence.'
29 "Brothers, I may say to you with confidence about the patriarch David that he both died and was buried, and his tomb is with us to this day.30 Being therefore a prophet, and knowing that God had sworn with an oath to him that he would set one of his descendants on his throne,
31 he foresaw and spoke about the resurrection of the Christ, that he was not abandoned to Hades, nor did his flesh see corruption. 32 This Jesus God raised up, and of that we all are witnesses.33 Being therefore exalted at the right hand of God, and having received from the Father the promise of the Holy Spirit, he has poured out this that you yourselves are seeing and hearing.
34 For David did not ascend into the heavens, but he himself says, "The Lord said to my Lord, "Sit at my right hand,35 until I make your enemies your footstool."
36 Let all the house of Israel therefore know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified." (Act 2:23-36 ESV)

Notice that St. Peter moves the crowd away from the phenomena of the Pentecostal signs, to fasten upon JESUS. He uses Scripture and logic, telling the history of God's actions in the world, and focusing upon God's covenant with his people. He highlights the great victory, where Jesus vanquishes sin and death by his crucifixion and resurrection. He moves on to the ascension, that upward movement of Jesus which is matched by the downward movement of the Holy Spirit to stay with the Church, fulfilling God's promises. The sermon closes with a call that they repent and be baptized, all of them. The very center of it is Jesus himself, who received from the Father the promise of the Holy Spirit, who has "poured out all this that you yourself are seeing and hearing," says Peter. Repent, and believe, "And you [plural] will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit...everyone whom the Lord God calls to himself."

Effectively Peter is saying, as he "stands with the eleven" "we are all witnesses"--'come and join us in the household of the Holy Trinity, by being baptized into God's name.' (On the screen notice this icon of the Hospitality of Abraham, where the three angels represent the Triune God, and in their company, around the table, are also Abraham and Sarah--stand-ins for us!) Then, as those who respond are "added," they devote themselves to the whole of the apostles' council and to their communion, their fellowship--a koinōnia that is a manifestation of the Triune God. The converts enter into a larger company, a larger space, a larger action. It is not "me and Jesus" but "us." Their communion and worship involve the mind (as they hear the teaching and believe), the body (as they join themselves physically to the apostles and receive the sacraments) and the spirit--as they are made One by the Holy Spirit. Awe falls upon them all as their lives together are offered to God.

Please notice that we see here an actual connection with the apostles. It is not simply a matter of accepting what they have said, but of joining their company. Even the apostle Paul, though called exceptionally by Jesus, was instructed and baptized by Ananias, and was ratified by Barnabas, a delegate of the apostles, who introduced him to those Jerusalem and Antioch. When there is controversy in the Church, St. Paul submits his teaching to the apostles, visiting Jerusalem for a meeting and showing his indebtedness through his collected alms. Early Christianity knows nothing of the lone ranger missionary: the apostles are missional agents, but their presence also indicates the location of the Church. With them, mission and ecclesiology come together, as we should expect from our Lord's commission to the apostles to go and baptize into the Trinitarian name.

Being in physical connection, however, is not a magical means of entering the church--consider the sad case of Ananias and Sapphira, who lied to the Holy Spirit and to the apostles. It is not a mechanical means to fellowship with God--but it is those who are in actual connection with the apostles who are added to the Church. This real link continues throughout the Acts, as the message is taken to the Samaritans, and to the Gentiles. Always there is a tangible connection: the primacy of the twelve is the way by which God builds his Church. As Paul Vallière reminds us, "Early Christian churches did not appear by autogenesis" (Conciliarity, ch 1).

What about today? Well, firstly, the Church acknowledges the "communion of saints." God is the God of the living, not the dead, and so the apostles are still present to us as we worship. But there is another thing. We hear in the Acts that everywhere the delegates of the apostles went, they "appointed presbyters in every church, [and] with prayer and fasting committed them to the Lord" (Act 14:23). This involved bodies (prayer and fasting), and hands, just as hands were also imposed to give the gift of the Holy Spirit to Christians in general (Acts 8:18; 2 Tim 1:6). Again, there is an actual connection: hands laid upon Saul; Paul's hands upon Timothy, and so on. It is God's work, but involves human action. This may seem oddly specific, but it is important, for we are physical as well as spiritual and conceptual beings. It is no odder, is it, than our characteristic practices of immersing in water or consecrating bread and wine?

There is a strong impulse, however, to dismiss this element of tangible connection. One prominent scholar involved in historical Jesus research pictures Jesus as a countercultural philosopher and teacher of life, who challenges those who are watching him, "See how it's done: you can do it, also!" (I am referring, of course, to Marcus Borg.) In his estimation, Jesus simply passes on a lifestyle, not himself. Jesus' sheep know better, of course. But it is perhaps more tempting to adopt a similar view with regards to the apostles, thinking that their sole function was to make sure that the message about Jesus did not die out, and that all that they have taught us is now safely enshrined in the Scriptures, for each individual to determine for himself or herself. This is not the picture that we get in the Scriptures concerning apostleship or the way tradition functions: there the apostles send delegates, who appoint elders, aided by deacons. Soon, in the second century, the three-fold order emerges with clarity: the personal element is primary. Bishop Papias, for example, gave priority to the living voice, even over the apostles' memoires: "If, then, any one came, who had been a follower of the elders, I questioned him in regards to the words of the elders [or apostles]." It was the link with the actual persons that mattered, for they had known the apostles, who had personally been with Jesus. In the same way, St. Irenaeus speaks about the rule of faith, received personally from the apostles as powerful enough to prevent an illiterate Christian, one who could not read Scriptures, from giving in to heretics!

One theologian puts it this way, "Just as the Apostle Peter is the rock upon which the ...community is built, in the same way every bishop becomes the rock of his community. For St. Cyprian, St. Gregory of Nyssa, and (Pseudo-) Dionysios, all the bishops are successors of Peter ... The agreement among bishops is a sign of the faith of Peter" (Meyendorff, via Aghiorghoussis). Nor are we to think of the message trickling down, with fear of dilution or being distorted like broken telephone. This is because the succession of the apostles in the bishops is not merely institutional or "canonical," but, as Fr. George Florovksy puts it, "the mystical foundation of Church unity." Like the eucharist and baptism, something real is going on here: the ongoing episcopate is no mere "safeguard of historical continuity or of administrative cohesion. It is an ultimate means to keep the mystical identity of the Body through the ages" (Fl. Catholicity of Church, 16). It is more like the vitality of DNA than a business arrangement. It is in the episcopacy, in chrismation or confirmation, in the imposition of hands and holy unction, that "Pentecost becomes universal and continuous" (16).

The primacy of the apostles and the bishops who were consecrated by them is, then, a sine qua non of the Church. From the combined witness of the Scriptures and church history, we see that the threefold order is of the esse, and not merely the bene esse of the Church, as some put it. That is, it is a matter of her very being (esse) and not simply her practical "well-being" (bene esse). Those of us who know the episcopacy up close and personal may smile a bit, as did, for example, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Geoffrey Fisher, who, according to Metropolitan Ware, when asked whether bishops were an advantage to the Church said, "It is difficult to say that they are an advantage but they are essential." But this spiritual truth is clear: Cut flowers severed from the root can only survive so long. To be apostolic is to cleave to their teaching AND koinōnia, to be actually one with them.

All this may be making some here nervous: has Christ instituted a top-down hierarchy, and if so, what happens when a bishop goes rogue? Is there a balancing feature in the Church to keep primacy honest and true? Yes, alongside primacy there is the characteristic of conciliarity. We are apostolic and "catholic"-- we live "according to the whole" (kat-holon). And in a council, a bishop is among his peers, no longer the leader of a particular flock: so conciliarity stands in "creative tension" with primacy. Who are we in the Church?--we are people in personal connection with the apostles and their successors. But HOW are we in the Church?--we are conciliar, from the inside out, from head to toe.

II What does it mean to be conciliar?

If apostolic is our connection with twelve persons, with who they are, then to be conciliar concerns how we live--how we are shaped by and expressed by the whole, meeting in deliberation together. Here we understand the Church in connection with an event, or action--a WAY of being. To be sure, not all have celebrated councils, so that the word "synodophobia" (Hans Raun Iversen (synodofobi), Critique of Churchless Christianity) has been coined. Yes, we all HATE meetings! Even in past days, at least one great mind was skeptical of their value. For example, in 382, Gregory the Theologian explained to his friend Procopius, "I am determined to avoid every assembly of bishops. I have never seen a single instance in which a synod did any good. Strife and ambition dominate them to an incredible degree....From councils and synods I will keep myself at a distance, for I have experienced that most of them, to speak with moderation, are not worth much....I will not sit in the seat of synods, while geese and cranes confused wrangle. Discord is there, and shameful things, hidden before, are gathered into one meeting of rivals."

Synodophobia aside, we may observe the practice of the Church, and how she has expressed herself from the very beginning. Let's begin not with formal councils, but with the general idea of meeting together for consultation and decision. Let us remember, for example, that the very word "church" means "those called out" (together), and that our liturgy is described as a synaxis--a Greek word related to "synagogue," a "gathering together." If the Church is expressed by its coming together, then gathering is at the very center of her being. As Alexander Schmemann--of blessed memory--puts it: "Before we understand the place and the function of the council in the Church, we must...see the Church herself as a council" ("Toward a Theology of Councils," in Church, World, Mission: Reflections on Orthodoxy in the West St Vladimir's, 1979, 163).

Consider, for example, this famous icon of Pentecost (shown on the screen), where the apostles appear to be gathered around a table as if for consultation, while a ruler of the Gentile world waits outside the door to hear the gospel and respond. As one contemporary Anglican theologian puts it, "Councils are one of the signature institutions of the Christian tradition" (Vallière). Anyone with a Russian background will not be surprised, for in their recitation of the creed, the adjectival form of "conciliar" is used as a Slavic equivalent of "catholic"--"I believe in the holy, sobornuiu (conciliar) Church." The Russian word "sobor" is the word for "council" from which we get the neologism sobornost, a Russian word now being used by theologians to encourage the conciliar nature of the Church. This is not such a bad translation, is it, since "catholic" means literally, "according to the whole", and evokes the idea of the whole Church living and deciding together. If the Church can be aptly described in the Russian translation of the creed as a body that lives in a conciliar way, then conciliarity is no marginal matter. Another theologian remarks: "at the moment of its establishment the church contained within itself a potential council." (Tserkovnye sobory I ikh proiskhozhdenie, 2003)

The earliest stories show this to be so. Again, we turn to Acts. Acts 11:1-18 shows God's family in deliberation after the Holy Spirit has acted dramatically among some of their number:
11 Now the apostles and the brothers] who were throughout Judea heard that the Gentiles also had received the word of God. 2 So when Peter went up to Jerusalem, those of the circumcision criticized him, saying, 3 "You went into uncircumcised men and ate with them." 4 But Peter began and explained it to them in order: 5 "I was in the city of Joppa praying, and in a trance I saw a vision, something like a great sheet descending, being let down from heaven by its four corners, and it came down to me. 6 Looking at it closely, I observed animals and beasts of prey and reptiles and birds of the air. 7 And I heard a voice saying to me, 'Rise, Peter; kill and eat.' 8 But I said, 'By no means, Lord; for nothing common or unclean has ever entered my mouth.' 9 But the voice answered a second time from heaven, 'What God has made clean, do not call common.' 10 This happened three times, and all was drawn up again into heaven. 11 And behold, at that very moment three men arrived at the house in which we were, sent to me from Caesarea. 12 And the Spirit told me to go with them, making no distinction. These six brothers also accompanied me, and we entered the man's house. 13 And he told us how he had seen the angel stand in his house and say, 'Send to Joppa and bring Simon who is called Peter; 14 he will declare to you a message by which you will be saved, you and all your household.' 15 As I began to speak, the Holy Spirit fell on them just as on us at the beginning. 16 And I remembered the word of the Lord, how he said, 'John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.' 17 If then God gave the same gift to them as he gave to us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could stand in God's way?" 18 When they heard these things they fell silent. And they glorified God, saying, "Then to the Gentiles also God has granted repentance that leads to life."

This passage comes after a series of visions and encounters between God and his servants Peter and Cornelius, and between the apostle Peter (with his friends) and Cornelius' household of Gentiles. The passage merges three narratives--the story of the Spirit's dealings with Peter, the story of the Spirit's dealings with Cornelius, and the story of the Spirit's dealings with believers in Jerusalem. In this three-layered narrative we find visions (the visions of both Peter who sees the sheet of unclean animals, and of Cornelius who sees an angel standing in his house). We hear these same visions reported several times; we hear words from God that accompany the visions; we listen to a sermon and a speech; we are privy to an early Church debate. What a drama! A chart helps us see how the story unfolds:
 
Vision Ia Cornelius and Angel (10:1-8)

Vision Ib Cornelius and Angel (10:22-26)

Vision IIa Peter and Animals (10:9-20)

Vision IIb Peter and Animals (10:27-29)

Vision Ic Cornelius and Angel (10:30-33)

Peter's Missionary Speech (10:34-43)

Dramatic action of the Spirit

III Peter's "Defense" including Vision IIc and Id (11:1-18)
Setting and Accusation against Peter: you entered a Gentile's house

Vision Id Peter retells Cornelius' vision Vision IIc=Peter retells his vision

Confirmed by remembering: God's Action at Pentecost; The Word of the Lord

And by reasonable interpretation: Then the whole Church concludes! (verse 18)

This complex story framework, with its embedded visions, enacts a pivotal episode in Luke's presentation of the early church. This passage is so important that it is referred to later in chapter 15, during the apostolic council of the church. In it, both of the key players--Cornelius and Peter--each have a vision about the other, and thus are brought together. (The Roman numeral I refers to the vision of Cornelius and its retelling, and Roman numeral II refers to the vision of Peter and its retelling.) The debate at the end of the chapter concerns whether the holy people of God are allowed to enter into Gentile territory without being made unclean. Perhaps we think that Peter's vision is about whether Christians have permission to eat food that is not kosher--remember that he has a sheet of unclean animals let down from heaven 3 times, and is told to kill and eat? Well, perhaps food is involved, but the vision is not primarily about food. It is about Cornelius's household, about those outside of the household of God, who will be cleansed and brought inside. How? By the holy entering into their domain. Just as the Lord Jesus has entered into our fallen world, so Peter is called to enter into the world of the Gentiles, even to eat with them! Peter's imagination is prepared for this by the vision, and his way is paved for him by an angel, a holy angel, who has already entered into Cornelius's gates. The whole complicated story moves towards a decision, or rather, a recognition by the church of what God is doing. In the final verse, the apostles declare (11:18)-- "So then God has granted even the Gentiles repentance unto life."

Let's carefully consider the interplay of the various authorities that God has given to his people--the Scriptures, revelatory visions, the living life of the faithful Church, and the wisdom and authority of godly leaders. Let's also notice how these means of authority come together, rather than collide, and how we can avoid the trap of seeing these in conflict, as some do today.

First, there is the double-vision strategy that God uses in this story--God says complementary things, things that fit together, to more than one person. While the Spirit is speaking to Cornelius, he is also speaking to Peter. Cornelius is not alone, nor is Peter--they have with them representatives, who stand in solidarity, explaining to each other how it is that God seems to be acting (10:7, 22, 23). We are not isolated individuals in the Church, nor have we been created to be islands, alone. Consider the fact that God has given to us four gospels! The very structure of the story, then--people hearing words from God, seeing visions, and bringing these together for understanding--this structure shows how God works among us. Among US, not just in the imagination of one person. The twin visions are told over and over as the two primary actors come together (a total of 5 vision reports!), and then they come to a climax in Peter's missionary speech, where he says what God has shown him. Finally, the visions are again rehearsed as Peter defends himself, and helps the believers in Jerusalem to understand.

Secondly, this event is not some brand-new thing that has no connection with the gospel. The story comes to its climax as Peter proclaims about Jesus, and as the Gentiles receive the Holy Spirit. Indeed, what happens to them (10:44-48) is immediately normalized as the Gentiles are baptized into the holy name. It is a kind of twin Pentecost: as Peter witnessed to the Jews gathered in Jerusalem on that first giving of the Spirit, so he witnesses to the Gentiles, and also witnesses what the Holy Spirit does among them. Thus, he can report to the college of apostles that the effect of his apostolic preaching has caused the Gentiles to speak God's very word and to praise God (10:46). The life, ministry, death, resurrection of Jesus have issued in an apostolic church that has power to proclaim God's word, and that grows, because together believers come to know the One who is the Word. ALL this is centred around Jesus, my friends, not around the mystical vision of Peter, nor the worthiness of Cornelius, nor the cleverness and boldness of the apostles. What is happening honours the Lord Jesus and raises him up, helping more and more voices to swell the chorus of those who tell the truth with joy.

Thirdly, it isn't a matter of someone seeing a vision, and someone clever figuring out what it means. Rather, Peter follows, step by step, God's directions, as does Cornelius, as do the disciples in chapter 11, and God's meaning becomes clear. So naturally do the interpretations come, as the story unfolds, that we hardly notice them: "Do not call unclean what God has cleansed," "I truly understand that God shows no partiality," "everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness", "The Spirit told me not to make a distinction," "So then, God has given even to the Gentiles repentance that leads to life." The whole thing unfolds like a tree, and we are drawn into the story. There is no sense of an esoteric vision, or mystery being "decoded" by an expert. Of course, the apostolic position of Peter and the others are important--for they have seen Jesus! But the whole church is in this, conciliarly, together.

Okay, so far we've seen that God speaks to several people, in ways that harmonize.

Next, we've seen that what he says and shows is intimately connected with the Lord Jesus, and consistent with the gospel. Then, we've seen that it isn't a matter of being clever in figuring out what God wants, in forcing the evidence to go in a certain way, or in a certain privileged person being given THE interpretation to pass on to others. No, the church sees this unfold, and interprets the meaning together. Peter has to learn, as well as the other apostles--they learn together with Gentiles. Yet they retain their special role: for as apostles, they have been with Jesus.

There is yet another unifying factor, a fourth one that weaves its way throughout the story. Look how many times in the story people pray: 10:2, Cornelius prays; 10:4 the angel speaks about Cornelius praying, 10:9, Peter prays, in chapter 11, Peter explains about how he was praying, and once the assembly in Jerusalem has heard about the whole thing, they stop attacking Peter, and praise God! Chapter 11 begins by Jewish Christians questioning "Did Peter break the law?" It ends with an understanding that God has begun, through Peter, the mission to the Gentiles: "So then, to the Gentiles, God has also granted repentance unto life." The debate concerning entry into Cornelius's house is replaced by the larger picture of Gentile homes being united to the household of God. The whole assembly comes to understand this because they are thinking things through together, by prayer, by reference to what they know of the Lord Jesus, by listening to how the Holy Spirit has acted in harmony with the Gospel.

This is all in accord with Peter's gospel words to the household in chapter 10: 36-43. Jesus is Lord of all, Jesus healed all who were oppressed, Jesus appeared, after his resurrection, to the apostles, who were to be witnesses. The prophets bear witness to him, that he is the means of forgiveness. Peter in this sermon assures Cornelius that the coming of Christ is the fulfilment of God's dealings with Israel, the people whom Cornelius so much admires as a God-fearer. Cornelius, the Gentile, has even fallen at Peter's feet! But Peter makes it clear to Cornelius that the role of the apostles is not that they should themselves be honoured like that, but that they should witness to the power of God and the lordship of Christ. As he does this, the Holy Spirit does his gracious work, and the Gentile church is born!

To sum up, then:
• The Holy Spirit directs us not idiosyncratically, but together.
• What the Spirit says is consonant with what the prophets have said in the past, and with the apostolic proclamation of Jesus, who came to heal us from death, sin and oppression.
• Discerning God's will and truth is not a matter of figuring out an impenetrable mystery, nor do we need a special person to interpret it. We will come to these things together as a church.
• What the Spirit teaches will lift up the Lord Jesus.
• It is by prayer that we prepare to hear the word of the Lord and see what he wants us to see.
Amazingly, Peter's lesson was larger than even he or the other apostles knew at the time. Five chapters later in Acts the Jerusalem council must meet solemnly to figure out what to do about the lifestyle of the Gentiles and the problem that table fellowship was posing for Jewish Christians who were keeping kosher. This is the great apostolic council, in which they work things out further: part of their deliberations includes a re-visiting of Peter's vision and experience with the Gentiles in Cornelius's house.

And so, in chapter 15, they call an ad hoc meeting to decide a particular question: did Gentile converts have to keep the whole Torah? The answer to that was buried in Peter's vision, and answered by the Spirit's falling upon cleansed Gentiles, but had not been clear to them at first. Sometimes a word from God contains more than we know at the time; sometimes a vision is deeper than we realized. But God does not contradict himself. What God reveals to us for a new day will be in continuity with the witness of the prophets and the apostles. So it is here. James, after listening to all the discussion, speaks for the entire assembly, and a letter is sent out to the new communities, freeing Gentile believers from the constraint of Torah, while making a way for Jewish and Gentile Christians to live together. This is how they spoke about this decision:
For it has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us...
to the apostles and the elders, with the whole church...
and with this the words of the Prophets agree... (Acts 15:28; 15:22; 15:15)
If something strikes us as completely novel, not part of the story, or not honouring to the Lord Jesus, then we need to turn to prayer, to the Word, to the Fathers of the Church, to our leaders, and to each other. For he is not a God of confusion, but of order and of truth!

And such a decision is not simply a matter for the leadership alone to determine, though the declaration first comes through them. For later in the Acts of the Apostles, we read this about Paul and Barnabas: "As they went on their way through the cities, they delivered to them for observance the decisions that had been reached by the apostles and elders who were in Jerusalem. So the churches were strengthened in the faith, and they increased in numbers daily." (Act 16:4-5 ESV) The proof of the pudding was, so to speak, in the eating--in this case, LITERALLY in the eating together of Jew and Gentile! Here is the pattern: Paul and Barnabas had been at the great council recorded in Acts 15. They brought James' declaration--which encapsulated the decision of the whole council--to the churches outside of Jerusalem, who clearly received the decision, since they were strengthened, and grew numerically. The intimacy of Peter with the Gentiles, approved by the apostles in chapter 11, clarified and extended to apply the whole Body in chapter 15, is received by all the churches, and health is the result. Clearly, the churches recognized the decision of Jerusalem as ratifying God's promises: "I will give you as a light to the Gentiles" (Is. 49:6) and further back in God's word to Abraham: "by your seed shall all the nations of the world be blessed" (Gen. 12:3). And so they received the decision from Jerusalem. Holy men and women spoke, as borne along by the Spirit--they spoke in harmony with what God has said in the past and was saying then to other saints. Here is the final step in our understanding of conciliarism--decision-making involves the whole church, though it is formally enacted by those in primacy.

The story is told of an Orthodox bishop in Alaska who visits a parish for the first time. He celebrates the liturgy, preaches the sermon, and then offers to field questions from the congregation. He is barraged by a slew of very basic inquiries, "Who is Jesus? Whose Son is He? Why do we say, Our Father?" and so on. After about 10 minutes, he turns to his priest, and says, "Father, I mean no disrespect, but it seems that your people are not yet very well acquainted with Orthodoxy." The priest, it is said, retorted, "Oh no, your Grace. My people are well acquainted with the faith, but they want to make sure that you are as well, for if you are not, you cannot be their bishop." I'm not sure what the history of this little parish was with the episcopate, and why this happened, but it establishes an important point: the bishop (and his priest) lead the prayers: but the people must be able to say Amen! The Bishop ordains the priest, and bishops consecrate another bishop: but the people must be able to call out, "he is worthy!" The celebrant calls for the Holy Spirit to come down on the mysteries and on the assembly, but the people cry out "Amen, amen amen!" The laity, then, also plays a role in decision making. We receive, and assent--or perhaps not.

There have been, after all, illegitimate councils even on the ecumenical level, in Church history. There was the famous "Council of robbers" in 449 that mistook the nature of Jesus Christ, and that made its decisions in an irregular fashion. The historic communions, east and west, accept seven ecumenical councils, but the last three were rejected by many during the Reformation--perhaps, now, with a better understanding, say, of icons, these decisions will be reconsidered by some Protestants. (Certainly it is the case that FIF has formally affirmed all seven councils. With regard to the last council, what was decided about icons, and its compatibility within Anglicanism, I recommend the thoughtful article by the very Rev. Robert S. Munday, "An Anglican View of the Seven Ecumenical Councils." I also urge those of you who are unsure, or who want to understand the matter better, to attend my dear friend Fr. Chad Hatfield's workshop on icons!)

And so we slip into the matter of ecumenical councils of bishops from the entire Christian Church: in 325 (concerning the divinity of the Son); in 381 (concerning the divinity of the Spirit); in 431 (concerning the nature of Christ and holy Mary); in 451 (concerning the two natures of Christ); in 553 (when more was said about the Trinity and Christ); in 680 (when Christ was described as having a human and divine will); and finally, in 787 (when theological reasons were adduced for the use of icons). These major councils were interconnected with particular exigencies, and made decisions that were received by the Church, both east and west. There are those who think that the continuation of such councils is essential for the Church--this is the doctrine of conciliarity. They may well be right, and yet, there are other conciliar means of vitality for the Church until that becomes possible.

For conciliarism is more basic than the calling of ecumenical councils. We meet together at various levels, not always to trouble shoot, but as part of our life together--as a parish, in a region, in a province, and so on.

These different KINDS of councils have an old and august history, with regular provincial councils beginning in the fourth century, and the great councils of metropolitans starting a little later in that same century. Such meetings are not uncomplicated in the divided state that Christians experience today. Consider the chequered history of the WCC, which has declared its existence to be pre-conciliar, that is, as merely moving towards the time when there will be a true ecumenical council again; yet it actually seems to take decisions, suggesting that some presume its authority to be actual. It is this confusion about power that has led concerned traditionalists to eschew ecumenism a damaging oppression in the Church.

It would be truly wonderful, if the time could come when a Council could speak on behalf of all Christians, and could be sealed by a common Eucharist, as the ecumenical councils appeared to have been. But all those who name Christ, even those who hold to the ecumenical Creed and Christian piety, are no longer in a position to commune with each other, nor will we easily agree on all matters. Nevertheless, there are some things that we can do. The French distinguish between different kinds of meetings, separating a "concile" from a "conseil"--the former is an episcopal body that makes decisions, later to be embraced by the people; in distinction, a conseil is a gathering for conversation, dispute, clarification of opinions, and possible advice. Our meeting here is a very lively conseil of Anglo-Catholics who will seal this with the Eucharist--and you have invited some of us to be guests at your deliberations! There are other broader examples of conseil that have proven to be useful--for example, the Paradosis conference that I attended last fall along with other creedal Christians. At such events, we must not enter into communion prematurely. But we can make lasting friendships, pray together where the worship remains thoroughly Trinitarian and uncompromised, take council together to decide about matters of common cause, and come to understand each other, so that we do not caricature each other's positions. As one who sojourned mostly among evangelical Anglicans, I had no idea, until researching for this paper, that any Anglican body formally accepted the seventh council! Thank you for the opportunity to understand you better, my Anglo-Catholic friends.

As for what actually happens at formal councils, it must be admitted that there are no clear-cut external criteria to decide at the moment whether a council is binding or not. In the end, we come down to "it seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us", and time will tell whether a council was actually authoritative. Meyendorff reminds us, "True councils have always been spiritual events" (16). Again, "The authority of councils depends upon their being the true voice not only of episcopal, but also of ecclesial consensus... If this does not happen the council is rejected as a false council" (11). Here we must step carefully. It is important to remember that faithful councils were rejected by many in their own day, such as during the Arian controversy: sometimes the minority can be right! At any rate, councils at various levels (whether concile or conseil) are essential events in the Church, and we are indebted to our forebears for braving the unpleasantness, even the danger, of disagreement, and for clarifying important matters for us. As the blessed Augustine put it, "They held to what they found in the Church; they taught what they had learned; what they had received from the Fathers, they transmitted to the children" (S. Augustine. C. Julian, II. 9). To meet for deliberation is essential to the health of the Church; moreover, it is expressive of her very nature. Speaking of the Church and her Eucharist, the apostle declared, "We, though many, are one body" --just as the Holy Trinity is Three-in-One and One-in-Three.

So, then, the Church is apostolic in nature, and conciliar in nature. These adjectives describe the WHO (a matter of identity) and the HOW (a matter of mode or action). Who we are is also tied up with how we act, so these things intersect. When John the Baptist sent disciples to ask Jesus if he was "the one to come," Jesus pointed to his actions of healing the sick, casting out demons, and preaching the gospel. When we ask about the Father, Jesus says, "He who has seen me has seen the Father." The Incarnation is the ruling principle of our faith, not mere appearances or hints about God, but a revelation in Jesus the Christ. What you see is what you get. Is that also true of the Church? I would like to finish by suggesting something that may be more challenging than my first two points, but which I believe is integrally connected with them. Just as the Church is apostolic and conciliar, so it is concrete.

III What does it mean to say the Church is concrete?
Here we are talking about the what-ness, the quality of the Church. In my seminary circles, many now speak about "being church," while avoiding the definite article, "THE Church." But remember Acts' description of the early Church: they gave themselves to the teaching and to the communion of the apostles. They were numbered. They were recognizable. They were concrete. It wasn't simply that someone read something that Peter or John had written, and said, "Yes, that rings true! Let's believe this and create a church." The concrete connections made the Church the Church. Indeed, this giving of ourselves to the apostles is enjoined in the catholic letters of the New Testament: For we did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty. For when he received honor and glory from God the Father, and the voice was borne to him by the Majestic Glory, "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased," we ourselves heard this very voice borne from heaven, for we were with him on the holy mountain. And we have the prophetic word more fully confirmed, to which you will do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts, knowing this first of all, that no prophecy of Scripture opens itself automatically to private interpretation. For no prophecy was ever produced by the will of a human being, but human beings spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit. (2 Pet 1:16-21)

Here the apostle claims that they were eyewitnesses, and had the prophetic word confirmed to them by what they saw and heard. That more luminous lamp, their witness to what they saw, is the beacon for Christians today: we need the apostles and others in the Church. Being a Christian is not a matter of autonomously reading the Scriptures, but of understanding them by that lamp. And it is not simply a matter of doctrine: in the Johannine epistles, the elder speaks of how the Word was heard, seen and handled, and calls his "children" into koinonia with the apostles and the holy Trinity: "the life was made manifest, and we have seen it, and testify to it and proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and was made manifest to us-that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ" (1Jo 1:2-3 ESV). Second and Third John also speak about this fellowship as that happens when persons who have seen Jesus are in contact with others: "I had much to write to you, but I would rather not write with pen and ink. I hope to see you soon, and we will talk face-to -face (so that our joy may be complete)" (2Jo 1:12; 3Jo 1:13-14 ESV).

Instead of this emphasis on the concrete mystery of the Church, we find other ideas today in abundance: a misplaced humility that refuses to name the Church as a thing, but only speaks of her as a kind of action or mode, when we "live into our actions as church;" an institutional view of that see churches as organizations to gather together autonomous Christians for the purpose of encouragement; a conceptual view that defines this mystery only confessionally; a magnanimous but incoherent view that pictures the Church as a tree with various branches, though these branches have irreconcilable doctrines and practices; and, along with most of these erroneous views, what I would call an "docetic ecclesiology." Docetism, remember, was the doctrine that Jesus was not truly human, that he only appeared to be human, without a true bodily existence. We worship a God who truly became human, who became a zygote in the hallowed body of the Theotokos--that one whose womb was "more spacious than the heavens" because it contained God himself. Similarly, Jesus' Body today is not merely an appearance of an invisible Church: it is concrete, with recognizable characteristics: one, holy, catholic, apostolic. This involves: an actual connection with the Lord in baptism and the sacraments; an actual connection with the apostles in our believing, worshipping, and structure as we gather around bishops consecrated by and after the apostles; an actual order in the service and leadership of our priests and deacons under our bishops; an actual participation with each other conciliarly; an actual connection of bishop with bishop; and an our actual connection with the saints and the angelic hosts in worship.

I realize that this is complicated to talk about, given the strange anomalies--let's face it, the mess of today-- with different groups that claim the label "church," with some that eschew the word altogether, with overlapping jurisdictions within one communion, with communions in competition or collision. Moreover, though the Church is visible, she is still being prepared, and in that sense is not yet teleios, complete: Jesus gave us the parable of the weeds and tares, to which we must take heed. We do not see everything, and there are those who will be revealed as members of the body in due time. But we do see. And what we see is that Christianity is not simply a religion of the head (though our heads are important).

Indeed, Jesus did not come to institute an "ity" or "ism" but to found his Church, a Holy Body with an identity, a mode of being and a recognizable shape: she is tangibly connected to the apostles and those whom they appointed, lives conciliarly in union with her bishops, and can be seen by those who are looking for her by her history, by what she professes, how she lives, and the company she keeps. One of the biggest challenges, I would venture to say, for Anglicans, is the continuing insistence that a common liturgy is sufficient for unity. Vallière is instructive here:

Episcopalians [and this is true of many Anglicans in general] often claim that the unity of their church is grounded in a common liturgy rather than in doctrine or discipline, and they see this grounding as a good thing because it instantiates communion while allowing for diversity in the church: "We have different ideas about many things, even most things, but we still pray together" ...Without a conciliar dimension the liturgical argument... licenses evasion of important theological issues and disciplinary needs....Appealing to liturgy will not conjure away the divisions.

Vallière here commends conciliarity as a means to get real. But such conciliarity itself must be real, not expressed in the so-called indaba dialogue of Lambeth 2008, which rendered that council a "a talking shop"--this was odd, since the Zulu process of indaba was actually instituted for adjudicating controversy, not simply for dialogue. Conciliarity will only work if Anglicans--and others who speak with them--frankly admit differing views on the nature of the Church, on what happens in the sacraments, on the character of ordained ministry, and especially on what is essential to the faith. It is not enough to gather around worshipful words that are differently interpreted by different members: all of us must truly learn, as St. Paul encourages the Corinthians "to say the same thing." The same holds true for public declarations: any common statement that comes from a gathering body is only as valuable as its shared interpretation by those who embrace it.

Of course, a statement may be designed to create a space within which there may be some variation of meaning--but it is meaningless if it hosts contradictions or incompatible views.

To recognize the Church as genuinely apostolic, as conciliar in nature, and as concrete, is, I pray, a good beginning point. Nor must we despair concerning the current lack of consensus as we face the world. C. S. Lewis, who came from the outside, had some good words to say concerning this:

We are all rightly distressed...at the divisions of Christendom. But those who have always lived within the Christian fold may be too easily dispirited by them. They are bad, but such people do not know what it looks like from without. Seen from there, what is left intact, despite all the divisions, still appears (as it truly is) an immensely formidable unity. I know, for I saw it; and well our enemies know it. That unity any of us can find by going out of his own age. (God In the Dock, in The Collected Works, 204)

"That unity any of us can find by going out of his own age." Here is very practical advice: It is by looking to the apostles and Church fathers, and understanding them in relation to our own day that Christians can perceive the true nature of the Church. Lewis here gives the same advice as Fr. George Florovsky, who in his untiring ecumenical discussions of the last century hoped by an illumination of the Fathers to recall his Christian friends to an "agreement with all the ages." In all of our questions, the ancient Fathers remind us of this promise:

And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross. (Col 1:18-20 ESV)

Dr. Edith M. Humphrey is the William F. Orr Professor of New Testament at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary