We were talking about authority in our Anglicanism class this morning. There’s the three-legged stool, of course (scripture, tradition, and reason), but there’s more to it than that. In fact, one of the pressing issues in Anglicanism has to do with the nature and exercise of authority in the church. One of the key problems has to do with where authority in the church comes from. In the Episcopal Church, for example, authority rests in laity and clergy together. In General Convention, there are two houses, the house of deputies consisting of lay and clergy delegates, and the house of bishops. In individual parishes, rectors are ultimately selected by the vestry, but they serve under the bishop. Bishops are elected in diocesan conventions, needing majority votes from lay delegates and clergy. In other nations, the Anglican church is organized quite differently.

All of this may seem esoteric and relatively unimportant, but that’s not the case. There is a connection, a symmetry between the structure and how authority it is exercised. In the Episcopal Church, democracy, or giving the people a voice, is written into our constitution. We talk a lot about the ministry of the baptized, but to giving laity voice and vote in church governance says a great deal about the relationship between clergy and laity, and about the role of the laity in the church. General Convention will take place in July, and no doubt there will be some news coming out of it. It is our governing body; unlike other churches, especially the Roman Catholic, people have a say in the governance and authority of the church.

In the twentieth and early twenty-first centuries, Julian of Norwich has become one of the most popular and influential spiritual writers of the Christian tradition. That in itself is remarkable, because there is very little evidence of her popularity in her own day or even in the following centuries. Her writings were never widely distributed and exist in only one or two manuscripts.

What has made her popular is the depth and power of her theological and spiritual vision. Her use of maternal imagery with reference to God and to Jesus Christ, the phrases “all shall be well” and perhaps especially that remarkable statement of God’s love with which she concludes her Showings:

“And from the time that it was revealed, I desired many times to know in what was our Lord’s meaning. And fifteen years after and more, I was answered in spiritual understanding, and it was said: What, do you wish to know your Lord’s meaning in this thing? Know it well, love was his meaning. Who reveals it to you? Love. What did he reveal to you? Love. Why does he reveal it to you? For love.”

All of that endears her to contemporary liberal Christians and New-Agers. What many of these people often overlook is how firmly rooted Julian’s thought and experience are in the Christian tradition. The sacraments are important to her, but even more problematic in the twenty-first century is her vivid, devotion to the Passion of Jesus Christ. She describes images of Christ’s suffering and death that might offend modern sensibilities. But her understanding of Christ’s love is shaped by her experience of that love in his suffering and death on the cross.

I’ve been thinking about the sacrament of Confession a great deal. In class last week, as I lectured on Erasmus and his edition of the Greek New Testament and Latin translation that was published in 1516, I told my students about his translation of Greek word metanoia in the Gospel of Matthew. The traditional Latin translation was “Do penance” which puts in Jesus’ mouth the commandment to Christians to make their confession to a priest. Erasmus translated it more literally as “change your mind” and insisted that the sense of the Greek word was “be penitent.”

Last week, The New York Times published an article on the return of indulgences. You can read it here. It was perfectly timed, because this week in class, we turned to Martin Luther, his quest for a merciful God, and his attack on indulgences. The very first of his 95 Theses reads almost as if Erasmus might have written it, “When Jesus said, ‘Repent,’ he willed the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.”

In the Middle Ages, the Church expected that all Christians would make their confession once a year, in preparation for the annual reception of communion at Easter. Lent, which had its beginnings in the Early Church as a period of preparation for baptism, took on a deeply penitential emphasis. Preachers, especially the Franciscans, would encourage their listeners to examine themselves more deeply and systematically, to ensure that they made a full confession.

While most of the Protestant reformers believed Confession was a useful practice and sought to retain it, most laypeople resisted. It was kept in the Book of Common Prayer. The Exhortation that was to be said before the Eucharist made clear that if one was in sin, they were to make a confession before receiving communion.

When we think of Confession, most of us probably think of what we see in the movies, or what we remember of our Roman Catholic childhoods—confessional boxes, with a grate separating the priest from the confessant.

Confession is an opportunity to reflect on one’s life. It should not be seen as a potential guilt trip. Instead, preparing for confession involves taking a good hard look at oneself, without blinders or excuses and to recognize who we are and what we do. In the confession of sin during the Eucharist we ask forgiveness for “the things we have done and the things we have left undone.” Preparing for private confession allows us to think seriously about the ways in which we have not been the human being that God wants us to be and indeed the human being that we want to be.

Some of us have the the discipline to embark on this self-examination on our own, but the result may indeed be feelings of guilt, doubt, or despair. To speak with a priest about the results of one’s self-examination provides the occasion to hear again the words we know are true; that our sins are forgiven by the great mercy of God. It may be that hearing those words of absolution will take a heavy burden off the shoulders of one who has been worrying about their sins.