A tale of Two Peters - Jensen and Pevensy
David Greentree 7th September 2008
David Greentree is the 30 year old son of an Anglican priest who hides out in a small country church of another denomination because he is embarrassed by both sides of Anglican politics.
I recently saw “Prince Caspian”, the movie adaptation of C.S.Lewis’ classic book. I was particularly struck by the tragedy of Peter’s unsuccessful plan to capture Miraz’s fortress, where a great number of the good Narnians are massacred. But searching my memory, I couldn’t remember that in the book, so I went back to reread my childhood favorite.
The book is actually a simpler tale than the movie, and does not involve that whole plot development. So I went to see the movie again, keeping in mind that the attempt on the fortress was an addition to the original. And I think that the screenwriters have captured something profound that C.S.Lewis would have approved of.
At the heart of the tragedy is Peter Pevensy’s statement, “I think we have waited for Aslan quite long enough.” Impatient for the unfolding of Aslan’s plan, Peter leads his men on what seems a daring raid, but because of forces beyond his control, ends in disaster.
I am struck by the parallels between this situation and recently developed rift between Sydney Archbishop Peter Jensen and the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams. Jensen sees the consecration of openly gay American bishop Gene Robinson as an outright attack on the very nature of the church, and in response he is playing a leading role in the breakaway Global Anglican Future group. He appears to believe the only solution to the erosion of traditional Anglicanism is violent separation from the “compromised” churches.
Already the GAF group have been compared by admirers to Charles Wesley’s revival, which birthed the Methodist Church, and even to Luther’s reformation. Although Jensen is no doubt too modest to make such comparisons himself, I find it disturbing that others are doing so because I believe there are fundamental differences between what Jensen and the other evangelical bishops are attempting, and what was achieved by Wesley and Luther.
I do not think Jensen is quite as familiar with the phrase ‘we do not wage war as the world does’ as Luther and Wesley were. When one sees the church one loves under threat, one is tempted to strike out with every force at one’s disposal. And it is a temptation to be resisted. Although not a biblical quote, I think it utterly true that once one uses the Devil’s tools, one becomes the Devil’s pawn.
Jensen loves the church, or at least his own diocese and its particular flavour of Christianity, with a passion. He has raised almost a cult of Jensenites whose zeal for the church is such that they would go to almost any lengths to defend it. But the Church is at the same time both a very robust thing, and a very fragile thing. Robust because it is God’s Church and He defends it, and does not require human assistance. Fragile because it remains the Church only so long as it is God’s Church, and God’s Church only so long as it operates in accordance with the righteous nature of God. A church, or leader, or diocese, that becomes so focused on winning the battle that it forsakes God’s inflexible standards of justice, has already lost the war.
Those looking to Jensen as another Luther or Wesley would do well to examine his diocese closely to find out exactly what sort of bright new world he is leading us into. In my own quite limited experience of Jensenites I have caught a whiff, an aroma, of something quite ugly. I have seen in them a ruthlessness that is utterly at odds with the justice of God. Reformations are instituted by God, revolutions by Man. The difference between a Luther and a Robespierre is not the justice of the cause, but the lengths you are willing to go to, the tools you are willing to use, to achieve it.
As for me, I do not believe I have seen God’s plan unfold yet. God’s salvation does not look like a mighty army with flashing swords. It is a little girl, standing all alone and unafraid at one end of a bridge, with a tiny dagger in her hand, and a golden lion behind her.
As for me and my household… I will be Lucy. I will wait for Aslan.
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