Foundations of the Anglican Church CXXI

Lancelot Blackburne, 

the Buccaneer Archbishop

An important item which I had overlooked posting on was the Declaration of Indulgence issued by James II before the Glorious Revolution and which was one of the causes of the overthrow of James and his replacement on the throne by William and Mary.   In 1687 James issued a royal proclamation—first for Scotland on February 12 and then two months later for England, suspending the penal laws and granting freedom of worship both to those dissenters (Baptists, Presbyterians, Congregationalists, Quakers) who had separated themselves from the Church of England when the Prayer Book Liturgy and the Episcopacy was restored in 1660 as well as to Catholics who had suffered under a series of laws restricting their rights every since the time of the English Reformation in the sixteenth century.  The Quaker, William Penn, was the one who initiated the appeal to James that resulted in the Declaration of Indulgence but its chief beneficaiars were the Kings co-religionists, the Catholics.

The High Church clergy, on the other hand, were opposed to relaxing the restrictions on non-Anglicans altogether but one of the curious elements of the Declaration of Indulgence is that many of the Anglican hierarchy and clergy of the Whig persuasion were very open to tolerance of the non-conformists (the Presbyterians and Congregationalists and, to a lesser extent, the Baptists), had reservations about the Quakers, and were dead set against relief to Catholics.  Their intellectual liberalism broke down when it came to rights for Catholics.  Part of this was the Enlightenment suspicion of Catholicism and its rejection of rationalism in favor of what was perceived to be medieval scholasticism, as well as Catholicism’s undemocratic form of Church governance, its mystical tradition, and its rather esoteric and arcane style of worship. 

With the collapse of the Caroline Divines and their rich theological and mystical heritage as well as their appreciation for the aesthetics of worship, Anglicanism was fast sinking into theological vapidity and lifeless and unimaginative worship. By the end of the seventeenth century Holy Communion was celebrated with increasing infrequency and Morning Prayer with a Sermon was becoming the standard Sunday fare.  And it wasn’t the sort of lovely Morning Prayer we see too rarely today with chant and choral anthems by a robed choir and maybe even a cope or two.  It was a rather banal service mostly—if not entirely—read, centered at the Reader’s desk beneath the pulpit while the Holy Table (as the altar was then generally called) stood neglected and forgotten beneath its baize dust-cover.  The sermon often lasted an hour or so and tended to be the reading of an overly-prepared text concentrating on a bland moral exhortation condemning the vices of the laboring classes (who generally did not come to church) and confirming the comfortable members of the establishment snuggled into their box-pews in their divine right to moral, political, and economic superiority.  I am sure it would have left Saint Paul, and probably even Jesus, scratching his head and wondering what it was all about.  This sort of dry-as-dust religion was not limited to England and its established Church however.  All over Europe Established Churches were in the business of ecclesial suicide as they identified with their patrons among the politically and economically empowered.  It was even true among the Court Lutheran Churches of the German princedoms but at least they had good music for their services. 

 One important Anglican divine of this period was John Sharp, Archbishop of York under William and Mary and later Queen Anne.  Like most clergy he had opposed the Declaration of Indulgence and was imprisoned for doing so.  He actually was chaplain to King James but as James was Catholic and Sharp Anglican, it was only a title and a salaried benefice.  He also was one of the rare preachers of that day who brought passion into the pulpit.  He was Lord High Almoner to Queen Anne and a close confidant of hers.  He preached the coronation sermon when she ascended the Throne.  He played a crucial role in the House of Lords in getting the Queen’s agenda through the Upper House, in some ways anticipating the role for Prime Minister that would evolve when Anne’s successors came to the Throne.  He was also the Queen’s chief advisor in the appointment of Bishops for the Church of England and so stamped the Episcopal Bench with his own political and theological views for a generation to come. 

One of the more interesting, in fact probably the most interesting, of the Anglican Bishops of this period is Lancelot Blackburne.  Blackburne graduated from Christ Church Oxford and was ordained in 1681 by the Bishop of Oxford.  He went off to the West Indies where he became the chaplain on a ship—a pirate ship.  One would not think of pirates having chaplains but technically the ship was a privateer: a privately owned vessel whose captain had been issued a Letter of Marque by the Crown authorizing him to attack enemy (in the case French and Spanish) shipping.  It seems that at this time Blackburne may actually have done espionage work for Charles II.  Blackburne returned to England after four years an began his ascendancy in the Church.   He was made Canon and later Dean of Exeter where he acquired the patronage of William Wake, later Archbishop of Canterbury.  When upon the death of Queen Anne, George of Hanover succeeded to the English Throne, Blackburne was appointed a chaplain to the new monarch and journeyed to Hanover to escort the new King to England.  In 1717 he was consecrated Bishop of Exeter.  In 1724 he was named Archbishop of York, a position which also made him a Privy Counselor. 

He was never much into the spiritual duties of being a Bishop, having no time for either confirmations or ordinations and ceasing to perform those functions completely a few years after succeeding to York.  He was infamous for at one confirmation service in Saint Mary’s Church in Nottingham sending his servant out to bring him his pipe, tobacco, and a mug of ale.  The rector threw Archbishop and servant both out of his church insisting that “no archbishop will make a tippling house of this church so long as I am the vicar.”   Blackburne resided mostly in a fashionable house in London rather than in his See city.  He reportedly married George to his long-time mistress, Ehrengard Melusine von der Schulenburg, despite the fact that George had a wife still living in Germany.  (He was married to his cousin Sophia Dorothea of Celle but it was a loveless marriage—though producing two children—and both George and Sophia had taken lovers.  Sophia was imprisoned for the remained of her life at Schloss Ahlden in Saxony.)  Blackburne himself was not known for moral rectitude and one wit, referring to his time on a privateer wrote that his “behavior was seldom of  a standard to be expected for an archbishop.  In many respects his behavior was seldom of a standard to be expected of a pirate.”  His contemporary, Horace Walpole, wrote: “…the jolly old Archbishop of York, who had the manners of a man of quality though he had been a buccaneer, and was a clergyman; but he retained nothing of his first profession except his seraglio.”  (A seraglio is the part of a residence reserved for a harem.)   Walpole elaborated on this in a letter to a friend:

He was perfectly a fine gentleman to the last, to eighty-four; his favourite author was Waller, whom he frequently quoted… I often dined with him, his mistress, Mrs. Conwys, sat at the head of the table, and Hayter, his natural son by another woman, and very like him, at the bottom, as chaplain: he was afterwards Bishop of London. I have heard, but do not affirm it, that Mrs. Blackbourne, before she died, complained of Mrs. Conwys being brought under the same roof. To his clergy he was, I have heard, very imperious. One story I recollect, which showed how much he was a man of this world: and which the Queen herself repeated to my father. On the King's last journey to Hanover, before Lady Yarmouth came over, the Archbishop being With her Majesty, said to her, "Madam, I have been with your minister Walpole, and he tells me that you are a wise woman, and do not mind your husband's having a mistress.

As Walpole claims, Thomas Hayter (1702-1762), Bishop of Norwich and later of London, was rumored to be Blackburn’s son by an adulterous union.  He was buried not in his cathedral but in the Church of Saint Margaret, Westminster. 

All in all, the 18^th century was not a peak time for the Church of England.  The rationalism of the Enlightenment led to a spiritual mediocrity that left the Church of England little more than a spiritual corpse. 

A Sad And Dangerous Precedent

Archbishop Sentamu presiding

at the Episcopal Consecration
 of Bishop Philip North

Yesterday the Reverend Philip North was consecrated as the Bishop of Burnley in York Cathedral, but it was a rather bizarre service.  While the Archbishop of York, Dr. John Sentamu, “presided” over the service as Metropolitan of the Northern Province, the province to which the Diocese of Blackburn of which the Bishop of Burnley is suffragan, belongs (In the Anglican Church those whom we Catholics would call “auxiliary bishops” are called “suffragan bishops”) the actual ordination was done by the Rt. Rev. Martin Warner, the Bishop of Chichester.  Bishop Warner also was the celebrant of  the Eucharist which followed the ordination rite. 

The reason that Archbishop Sentamu performed neither sacrament (Episcopal Consecration or the Holy Eucharist) is that Archbishop Sentamu had the week before consecrated the Rt. Rev. Libby Lane as the Bishop of Stockport (suffragan of Chester).  Bishop Lane is the first woman to be ordained bishop in the Church of England, though certainly not the first in the Anglican Communion,  Bishop North, an arch-traditionalist who rejects the ordination of women to the priesthood and episcopate, insisted that he be ordained by a bishop who shared his theological views regarding an all-male priesthood.  Bishop Warner and the two co-consecrating bishops who joined him the laying on of hands (it is traditional, though not essential, to have at least three bishops for the consecration of a bishop) all are opposed to the ordination of women and have never ordained a woman to the priesthood.  Bishop Lane and several other Anglican bishops were present at the ceremony but did not join in the laying on of hands consecrating the new bishop.     

Moreover, by asking that Bishop Warner and not Archbishop Sentamu preside at the Eucharist, Bishop North is also calling into mind the integrity of Archbishop Sentamu’s episcopal ministry.  This is a non-verbal way of saying that the tissue holding together the Church of England is tenuous at best and that schism is all but certain.  When bishops refuse communicatio in sacris to one another the unity of the Church is shattered.

All due respect to Bishop North—and for that matter for Archbishop Sentamu for enabling this scandal—but as important as fidelity to our theological convictions are, I believe that the unity of the Church is an even more fundamental commitment.  I guess I believe that the unity of charity, the cor unum—even where there is profound disagreement—is a non-negotiable.  I believe that when the Church, not an individual prelate or pastor but the Church, takes a step individuals are bound to yield individual reservations to the common faith.  I am not saying that one must agree, but only that however strong the disagreement the bonds of communion—both Eucharistic and fellowship—must be maintained.  I believe this is as true for us Catholics as it should be for the Church of England or any other Church.  This is what saddens me in our Catholic Church whether it is when those on one end of the krazy spectrum proceed with the ordination of women priests or bishops or those on the other end ordain bishops or priests for the pre-conciliar rites without an apostolic mandate.  At the end of the day we don’t have to agree but we do need to gather at the one table for the One Bread of Christ’s Body and the One Cup of Christ’s Blood. 

  

Foundations of the Anglican Church LXXVIX

Coronation Portrait of
Elizabeth I

One of the first challenges Elizabeth had to meet was what to do with the Church.  She could not keep it in the Catholic communion—as far as the Pope was concerned she was illegitimate and therefore had no legal right to the throne.  Moreover, while far less religious than either her brother Edward (Protestant) or her sister Mary (Catholic), Elizabeth was by far the best educated theologically of the three.  She was also the most open minded and inclined to tolerance.  Elizabeth was both natively intelligent (which her sister and  brother were not) and had the open and critical mind of the serious student.  Her education had been overseen by Archbishop Cranmer and he made sure to indoctrinate her in Protestant thought, but she was no narrow evangelical like her brother. 

Elizabeth proceeded with caution.  She made guarantees that she did not want to trouble the consciences of any of her subjects.  Mary was buried in Westminster Abbey with full Catholic rites on December 14.  Just eleven days later, however, she instructed  Owen Oglethorpe. the Bishop of Carlisle who was offering Christmas Mass in the Chapel Royal at Saint James Palace that he was not to elevate the Host or Chalice at the consecration.  She had yet demanded no other changes in the Latin Mass, but the Elevation of the Host and Chalice, which emphasizes Transubstantiation, was more than the Protestant Elizabeth would suffer even in the short run.  Elizabeth stormed out of the chapel.  Nevertheless, as Oglethorpe was the only bishop who would agree to officiate at her coronation on January 15^th following the Queen gave him a second chance.  Again the Queen instructed him not to elevate the Host and Chalice; again he did; again the Queen stormed out—of her own coronation Mass.  Little by little that year of 1559 Elizabeth moved to re-introduce Protestantism.  Oglethorpe and the other Marian bishops were deprived of their sees for their unwillingness to support the Queen’s religious policies.  The monks were evicted from Westminster Abbey and other religious establishments were closed down, becoming “collegiate” churches with a college of canons and a dean.  In April Parliament passed a new Act of Uniformity which abolished the Mass and replaced the Catholic Liturgy with a new Book of Common Prayer. The 1559 Prayer Book was a slightly—but significantly—revised version of Cranmer’s 1552  book.  Clergy who would not implement the rite were removed from their benefices.  Fourteen Bishops in England and Wales were deprived of their sees.  Most were arrested for a period of time but then allowed to retire to house arrest in private life where they privately practiced the Catholic faith without interference.  An exception was Edmund Bonner, Bishop of London who refused the oath of supremacy and was confined to the Marshalsea Prison until this death ten years later.  The Extreme Protestant Party clamored for the execution of Bonner and the other bishops, but Elizabeth was not inclined to make martyrs.  Nicholas Heath, deposed Archbishop of York, also refused both the Act of Uniformity and the Act of Supremacy but assured Elizabeth of his loyalty in matters secular.  He was allowed to retire to his estates in Surrey where Elizabeth visited him several times.  Cuthbert Tunstall, deposed bishop of Durham, was put under the custody of the New Archbishop of Canterbury, Matthew Parker, at Lambeth Palace.  He died there eleven weeks later.

Just about six weeks after Elizabeth’s accession to the throne, Giovanni Angelo Medici was elected Pope as Pius IV.  The papacy had been vacant from the death of Paul IV four months earlier.  Pius did not want to aggravate the plight of English Catholics and so he was silent in the face of Elizabeth’s return of the Church of England to Protestant doctrine and liturgy.  Pius also was not unlike the present Pope as he eschewed much of the pomp and splendor that had traditionally gone with the Papal Court.  He was characterized by Giorgio Vasari for his “stinginess of living, dullness of dress, and simplicity in so many things.”  In the sixteenth century Pope were not admired for toning down the Renaissance excess.  He also made some serious concessions to preserve the unity of the Church in the face of the Reformation.  He permitted the restoration of the chalice to the faithful in Austria and Bohemia where there had long been agitation for this reform.  There are those historians who admire Pius for his policies; and there are those who do not.  His English strategy worked in so far as there were no Catholic executed in England for their faith until after Pius’s successor, Saint Pius V, excommunicated Elizabeth and declared her subjects both free from her authority and duty-bound to overthrow her reign.  But that is for another time. 

Foundations of the Anglican Church LXXVIII

Well, let’s talk about Elizabeth.  Mary died on the morning of November 17, 1558 and Elizabeth became Queen with no opposition.  She was at her primary residence, Hatfield House in Hertfordshire, just less than 25 miles north of London, where she and her brother, Edward VI, had spent much of their childhood.  The Accession Council came to inform her of her new position and pledge their loyalty.

Mary had not only turned the Church back to its medieval status, though admittedly without most of the monasteries.  She reversed the policies of her father and brother who drew their counsel primarily from the newly ennobled laity and filled key government posts with clergy.  Her Secretary of State was John Boxall who was dean of Peterborough, Norwich, and Windsor.  Nicholas Heath, Archbishop of York, was Lord Chancellor.  Lay members of her Council, such as her secretary Sir John Bourne, were invariably Roman Catholics—though some such as William Paulet, the Lord Treasurer, went with whichever religious wind was prevailing at the moment.  William Paget, Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal, was another committed Catholic who served Mary.  One member of the Council who was missing to greet the new Queen was the Archbishop of Canterbury, Cardinal Reginald Pole.  He died at Lambeth Palace, the London Residence of the Archbishops of Canterbury, only twelve hours after Mary.

When Elizabeth looked at the Council she have realized that so much and so many would have to go if she were to bring England into the path she would set for it.  Polite to her guests—unlike the other Tudors, she was always gracious—she determined at once to choose her own advisors and dismiss those who had served her sister.  The clergy were, within a year or two, deprived of both royal and ecclesiastical office and remanded to custody—usually a fairly gentle custody—most eventually be released and returned to very private lives.  The laity who remained loyal to their Catholic faith likewise lost their places on the Council and at Court, though not usually their peerages and place in the House of Lords.  By and large it was a gentle reshuffling of the deck as Elizabeth replaced Mary’s Catholic ascendency with a Protestant Council of her own choosing.  Elizabeth was to have a much smaller Council than her sister, but it was comprised of men chosen for their competence (and at least nominally Protestant faith) and she was to entrust them with far greater responsibility than any of her predecessors. Sir William Cecil was her chief advisor.  His son, Sir Robert Cecil along with Sir Francis Walsingham and Robert Devereaux, Earl of Essex were the second tier.  Sir William Bacon, Sir Francis Bacon, and Sir William Knollys were other important advisors.  She did not appoint any of her bishops, even her new Archbishop of Canterbury to her Council or to key government posts, remarkable innovation only because the Archbishop of Canterbury had always served as one of the Privy Councillors. 

Elizabeth’s first aim was to restore the independence of the English Church from Roman authority.  She was aided by the fact that the Primatial See, the Archbishopric of Canterbury, was vacant due to the death of Cardinal Pole.  She would be able to choose her new Archbishop.  But this proved to be a more difficult challenge than one would think.  Elizabeth had her man in Matthew Parker, but he was not interested in the post.  Parker had been a much beloved chaplain to Anne Boleyn, Elizabeth’s mother, and despite his being married (Elizabeth did not like a married clergy, one of her “Catholic quirks”) insisted on him as Archbishop.  A second problem was getting the requisite three bishops to consecrate him as Mary’s bishops were, to a man, convinced Catholics who, many having betrayed the Church once under Henry, saw that a break with Rome inevitably led towards a Protestant doctrine and practice they were unwilling to stomach again.  While the bishops had failed miserably to resist her father in his break with Rome, Elizabeth’s bishops—some of whom had been among her father’s lackeys—stood their ground.  It would not, however, stop the royal policy of an independent and Protestant Anglican Church.