Anglican Spirituality: An Introduction. By Greg Peters. Eugene: Cascade Books, 2024. 87pp. $17.00 (paperback).
I first heard about Anglican Spirituality through a critical review titled “Not Anglican Enough.” This review had been making the rounds in some of the social media circles I frequent. The reviewer complained that there was little in the book that was from historic (read: pre-19th century) Anglicanism and thus questioned whether it was presenting a truly Anglican approach to the discipline of spirituality. Yet, when I was asked to evaluate the book as a possible text to recommend for serious lay parishioners, the priest who recommended it did so based on it using a wide variety and large amount of historic Anglican source material! Indeed, the endorsements of Anglican Spirituality show similar support from across the spectrum of churchmanship. My own review is partially an answer to those competing perspectives, though it is also a review of the text itself.
At its core, Anglican Spirituality is a retelling and re-presentation of the ascetic teachings of Martin Thornton, an Anglican priest and spiritual director in England during the middle and latter half of the 20th century. Thornton famously taught that the Book of Common Prayer lays out a three-fold regula for discipleship based on the Daily Offices, Holy Communion, and private devotions. Anglican Spirituality was born out of lectures Peters gave at a recent Synod of the Reformed Episcopal Church’s (REC) Diocese of Mid-America, where Peters is canonically resident. Indeed, Peters’ bishop, the Rt. Rev. Ray Sutton, wrote the foreword to the book.
As readers of The North American Anglican likely know, the REC is a traditional jurisdiction in the ACNA, a jurisdiction that only uses Prayer Books that are in the classic Cranmerian pattern (i.e., English 1662, American 1928, and the REC’s own 2003 editions). It was originally founded in the 19th century in reaction to the growing Anglo-Catholic movement in the United States but has subsequently adopted a wider churchmanship and theology which includes both Reformed Anglicans and Anglo-Catholics. Peters is more representative of the latter; indeed, he is a research professor at Nashotah House Theological Seminary, the main Anglo-Catholic seminary in the United States. This theological perspective is very much on display in Anglican Spirituality, though Peters’ sources are by no means exclusively Anglo-Catholic.
This is where the “Not Anglican Enough” review falls short. Peters favorably cites Ashley Null’s scholarship on Archbishop Cranmer, Gerald Bray’s edition of the Two Books of Homilies, Cranmer’s Defensio, George Herbert’s poetry, Jeremy Taylor, Lancelot Andrewes, the Articles of Religion, John Donne, and Richard Hooker’s Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity. Indeed, these citations far outweigh the use of Tractarian and later Anglo-Catholic sources. At the same time, Peters also relies on several works that are outside of the Anglican tradition, such as documents from Vatican II, the Eastern Orthodox theologian (and former Anglican) Kallistos Ware, and the Lutheran pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer. In itself, such use is not atypical of Anglicanism of any age; we have always felt free to make use of the best works of our ecclesiastical neighbors. Indeed, I frequently cite writers from other traditions in my own homilies and writings! Furthermore, Peters is to be commended for his extensive citations of the Church Fathers, an approach that is consistent with our best Divines.
Nevertheless, I found myself wondering if Peters’ use of the extra-Anglican sources is consistent with historic Anglican perspectives on theology.
To put it another way, a question one might put to this book is whether it is presenting a uniquely Anglican approach to spirituality, is showing how Anglicanism fits into the wider discipline of spirituality or is introducing spirituality to an Anglican audience. Peters’ own intention is to do the first of these. In his introduction, he writes, “Thus, ‘Anglican spirituality’ is a uniquely Anglican endeavor to explain how baptized men and women seek to live out their lives over against the ‘flesh’ in light of their understanding of the Christian Scriptures” (2). Peters’ rooting Anglican spirituality in the Prayer Book’s Offices, Sacraments, and Rites certainly frames his approach as uniquely Anglican. Yet, his particular use of extra-Anglican sources weakens this argument.
For example, in his discussion and definition of the Church as including a “proper individual-corporate balance” (12), he relies heavily on the Vatican II document Lumen Gentium. The quoted sections of the document certainly support an Anglican perspective on catholicity and the Church and the individual’s role therein. However, the greater context of Lumen Gentium is clear that its authors see true catholicity and true membership in the Church as limited to those in communion with and subject to the authority of the Bishop of Rome. That makes one question whether Lumen Gentium is the best support for an Anglican perspective on spirituality as a member of the Church, especially when cited as the “Dogmatic Constitution on the Church” (12, emphasis mine). I certainly would not want to use it in a study on ecclesiology with my congregation! The authors of Lumen Gentium would surely balk to see those outside of the Roman Catholic Church use it in such a way. Rather, I would expect to see the language of our Baptismal Liturgy, Article XIX, and other sources from our own Formularies as the main support for an Anglican discussion on membership in the Church. Peters’ statements about the Church are not inconsistent with historic Anglicanism, but his use of Lumen Gentium is not faithful to the document’s own context.
A similar misuse of context occurs when Peters cites Article XXV in support of his statement that “the Holy Eucharist is the literal body and blood of Jesus Christ” (31, emphasis mine). Articles XXVIII and XXIX are clear that Christ’s presence in the Eucharist is spiritual, not physical or corporeal. Indeed, the context of Cranmer’s Defensio (quoted several times in the chapter on the Eucharist) is to make this exact point. Yet, Peters says, “what needs to be understood is that God is immanently present to us by way of his corporeal presence in the Holy Eucharist” (10, emphasis mine). Peters’ use of the term “corporeal” is particularly troubling; every one of our foundational Reformers explicitly argues against a corporeal presence, specifically opposing the word “corporeal” and its associated theology in their arguments (see, e.g., Cranmer’s Defensio, Jewel’s Treatise on the Sacraments, and Book V of Hooker’s Laws).
It is certainly not uncommon for modern Anglican writers to be sloppy when it comes to terminology related to the presence of Christ in the Eucharist. Indeed, the term “real presence” has been used in such a wide manner that it is almost meaningless in current intra-Anglican discourse. Yet, when considering Peters’ scholarship and credentials in addition to the choice of a painting depicting benediction, exposition, and adoration of the Blessed Sacrament (complete with a monstrance on the altar), one must conclude that Peters’ terminology is indeed intentional in advocating a specifically Anglo-Catholic approach to Eucharistic theology that is more in line with Roman Catholicism than our Formularies and historic Divines.
Does this invalidate Peters’ excellent presentation of an approach to spirituality that is based on the Book of Common Prayer? Not necessarily. Indeed, if it weren’t for his use of these terms and Lumen Gentium, I would heartily recommend the book to inquisitive laypeople. The larger content of Anglican Spirituality is indeed very helpful. In particular, Peters’ deeper analysis of George Herbert’s and John Donne’s poetry is masterful.
Yet, I could not in good conscience simply hand this book to a member of my flock without first discussing these problems in depth. That robs it of pastoral utility in my estimation. Indeed, this points to a greater issue in modern Anglicanism. For several decades it has been common to portray Anglicanism as something of an ecumenical cafeteria rather than a distinct tradition. Often, any uniqueness in Anglicanism is portrayed as it being uniquely neither Protestant nor Catholic, but a bit of each. This approach can lead to something of a “little brother” syndrome towards our ecclesiastical neighbors, where we are always taking cues from either Roman Catholics, or Eastern Orthodox, or Continental Reformed (depending on the particular tastes of the one taking said cues). While it is true that there has been increased positive dialogue with other traditions in recent decades, such an approach does a disservice to our historic Divines. More concerning, however, is the tendency for this approach to turn Anglicanism into a “halfway house” for people on the road to Rome, Moscow, or Constantinople.
As a parish rector, I simply refuse to contribute to that approach. While I am certainly happy to have honest conversations about the differences between Anglicanism as presented by its Formularies and Roman Catholicism or Eastern Orthodoxy (or the various continental Protestant traditions), I do not want to see my parishioners fall into the errors of those Communions. Painting Anglican Eucharistic theology as Transubstantiation in all but name or presenting Roman Catholic definitions of the Church as a model for our own understanding undermines Anglicanism and the truths recovered at the Reformation, truths that have been upheld by all Anglican divines until the turn of the 20th century.
Unfortunately, Anglican Spirituality: An Introduction is more a reflection of that later approach to our tradition than it is of the early Anglican writers and documents quoted in the book. As such, while I am happy to learn from it, I cannot recommend Anglican Spirituality as a solid representative of historic Anglican thought and theology, despite the book’s many laudable elements.
