The Power of the Civil Magistrate extendeth to all men, as well Clergy as Laity, in all things temporal; but hath no authority in things purely spiritual. And we hold it to be the duty of all men who are professors of the Gospel, to pay respectful obedience to the Civil Authority, regularly and legitimately constituted.
The original 1571, 1662 text of this Article reads as follows: “The King’s Majesty hath the chief power in this Realm of England, and other his Dominions, unto whom the chief Government of all Estates of this Realm, whether they be Ecclesiastical or Civil, in all causes doth appertain, and is not, nor ought to be, subject to any foreign Jurisdiction. Where we attribute to the King’s Majesty the chief government, by which Titles we understand the minds of some slanderous folks to be offended; we give not our Princes the ministering either of God’s Word, or of the Sacraments, the which thing the Injunctions also lately set forth by Elizabeth our Queen do most plainly testify; but that only prerogative, which we see to have been given always to all godly Princes in holy Scriptures by God himself; that is, that they should rule all estates and degrees committed to their charge by God, whether they be Ecclesiastical or Temporal, and restrain with the civil sword the stubborn and evil-doers.
The Bishop of Rome hath no jurisdiction in this Realm of England.
The Laws of the Realm may punish Christian men with death, for heinous and grievous
offences.
It is lawful for Christian men, at the commandment of the Magistrate, to wear weapons, and serve in the wars.”
by the Rev. David Peters
Guns are only mentioned once in the Book of Common Prayer (1979), here in the bolded portion of Article 37. “It is lawful for Christian men, at the commandment of the Magistrate, to wear weapons, and serve in the wars.” I think of this often since I live in Texas, a state that is an “open carry” state, where gun ownership is often justified for keeping the government in check as it is for home defense.
“To be equipped like a basic infantry soldier” is how a friend of mine interprets the 2nd Amendment of the Bill of Rights. However we interpret the 2nd Amendment, we can be sure that our interpretation will stir great controversy whenever we proclaim it.
Both Article 37 and the 2nd Amendment were both born in the crucible of the Revolutionary War. In fact, Article 37 was entirely deleted by William White, our first Presiding Bishop in 1801 at the gathering that adopted our current Articles. On September 12th in Trenton, New Jersey, we passed the following resolution:
“The Articles to stand as in the Book of Common Prayer of the Church of England, with the following alterations and omissions, viz……..The 37th Article to be omitted, and the following substituted in its place: Art. XXXVII. Of the Power of the Civil Magistrate. ‘The power of the civil magistrate extendeth to all men, as well Clergy as Laity, in all things temporal; but hath no authority in things purely spiritual. And we hold it to be the duty of all men who are professors of the gospel, to pay respectful obedience to the civil authority, regularly and legitimately constituted.’”
Article 37 was so English, so ill-fitted to the new American nation, that it was deleted in its entirety. It is in the deleted portions of Article 37 that guns are mentioned. “It is lawful for Christian men, at the commandment of the Magistrate, to wear weapons, and serve in the wars.” These words are still printed in italics in the 1979 book, clearly showing that this sentence is a vestige of an earlier tradition. That the Articles are called “Historical Documents” places these deleted, italicized Articles as being even less in force for current Episcopalians.
And yet, as I read the “new” article alongside the original English article, I am struck by how timely this discussion is in both Church and civil circles.
Want to stir up a hot debate on Twitter? Tweet that you think the American flag should be placed in the Nave. Want to get even hotter? State that you think every Christian should, as a duty to protect their neighbor, carry a concealed weapon. And wait, there’s more—should a Christian serve in the military? Should a Christian president order a nuclear strike on North Korea if they fire a nuclear missile at one of our allies?
That William White deleted this article, in its entirety, fits well with what I’ve read about the national mood at the end of the Revolutionary War. White had endured the war, while serving as the long-time rector of Christ Church in Philadelphia. He owned no enslaved people, and his letter about George Washington’s aversion to taking communion is our only source on the matter. He was chaplain to the Continental Congress, and the first Bishop consecrated in London by the official Church of England bishops. He ordained most of the priests following the war, and his writings on how the new Protestant Episcopal Church should be structured won the day at the first General Convention.
If George Washington is the father of America, William White is the father of The Episcopal Church. Therefore, it is little surprise his rewrite of Article 37 was adopted as the new theology of how our Church relates to the Government.
Article 37 needed to be deleted. Just read it. It’s a complex argument that involves the throne of England, and the complex relationship between the “prince” and the church authorities that was in constant tension during the medieval and early modern period. It’s amazing it is as short as it is, given all the incidents that happened over the years between Church and Crown. We remember that the murder of Thomas Becket in his cathedral was over a dispute about civil authorities’ jurisdiction over the clergy.
But America didn’t have a king, a crown, or a prince. We didn’t have anything close to what England had in the way of a class of state-church clergy either. All we had was this fledgeling, divisive Congress and a man named George Washington who held it all together. As I read the history of this time, I can see how the Constitution set the tone for Article 37. Two years before the General Convention of 1801 the 2nd Amendment was ratified: “A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.” This is in sharp contrast to the corresponding statement in the original, English 37th Article, “It is lawful for Christian men, at the commandment of the Magistrate, to wear weapons, and serve in the wars.” George Washington’s Continental Army didn’t work this way. The Continental Army was a collection of state militias and volunteers, that Washington eventually turned into a more unified fighting force. That weapons could only be worn during war was absurd in a post-war American military situation, as the threat of British Invasion loomed, not to mention the Spanish threat. Add to this the Americans’ rapid expansion west, thus provoking Native American resistance. Guns were also used to prevent enslaved people from escaping or revolting. The Haitian Revolution shocked early Americans, and they doubled down on their abusive and racist policies of subjugating the thousands of enslaved people they “owned.” The legacy of slavery still looms large in our current discussion of gun rights.
The idea that anyone in America needed permission from the Magistrate to “bear arms” or “wear weapons” was absurd at this time. In medieval and early modern England, however, weapons were regulated in the extreme. It was absurd that commoners would be encouraged to be seen with a weapon. War was an activity that flowed from the throne, to the nobility, and on down to the army that was drawn from the commoners of the realm. It was a communal activity, regulated by all the institutions that both exploited and protected the weak. Waging war and bearing arms was not an individual right in England. But, in the new world, it was, at least for white, Christian men.
The emphasis in the new 37th Article is on the equality of laypersons and clergy persons. In the Medieval period, there were separate laws for numerous orders of clergy and another for everyone else. Many of the civil-church controversies revolved around this issue. The new 37th Article makes it clear all the laws apply to everyone, whether ordained or not. This fit well with the new Constitution which forbids recognizing titles of nobility and other trappings of the old world. In America, everyone was equal under the law—an early principle that eventually led to women and non-whites being included in this number.
The authority of civil government over all things temporal, but not spiritual, is significant. In our contemporary world, I think often about this difference. The rector who asserts that they are not responsible for the building—“things temporal”—but only for the liturgy may survive for a while, but eventually these two spheres blur. But all spheres blur eventually—the domestic and civic, the church and state, the personal and the professional. Can any of us keep a rigid line between them?
But this is the point of Article 37. There is a line between the temporal and the spiritual. While it is not clear where this line always is, it is there. I find this question being asked, often implicitly, in all our current controversies. The debates around human sexuality, war, and economics are a struggle to find just where this line is. When I read the the Gospels and the rest of the New Testament, it often seems like there isn’t any clear line. So much of our thinking about where this line is comes out of our post-Constantinian imagination. The notion of a Christian nation has taken a long time to sort out and we have not arrived at a settled opinion yet. Perhaps Article 37, in its simplicity, helps us sort this out a bit.
The line, at least for the writers of Article 37, hinges on civil quthority “regularly and legitimately constituted.” This is a key phrase for early Americans that harks back to the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. It may even go further back, to the Magna Carta and English parliamentary thought. That the government should be constituted by the people is a groundbreaking assertion in the US Constitution. In fact, “legitimately constituted” makes it clear what kind of government should be obeyed in things temporal. For early Americans and early Episcopalians alike, it was believed there was always a time to disobey the civil authorities. This was the argument of the Declaration of Independence. The continual neglect of the government justified revolt and rebellion. Unfortunately, the civil authorities rarely consent to such disobedience. The sad legacy of democracy is cyclical revolution in many places around the world. The tragic legacy of our own Civil War still lingers in popular imagination and national politics.
The point I take from Article 37 is that there is always a tension between the authority of the Church and the authority of our community. Our Anglican heritage tells us we should participate in both, always praying, guessing, and discerning what is spiritual and what is temporal. This is hard for congregations to do, especially in a post-Trump world where airing our grievances against Trump or siding with him are major dividing points in our common life. It is in the coffee hour that these themes often emerge, if not in sermons. Can Article 37 help us sort out how we as parish-based Christians relate to the divisive politics today? I think it can.
The vagueness of Article 37 should give us hope for our Church. Can any of us decide the definitive line between the temporal and the spiritual? Can any of us decide that for a group of a hundred, a thousand, or a million? It is telling that our current Presiding Bishop has spent more time with the Royal Family in England than with the President’s family in DC or Mar-A-Lago. Even bishops must discern this line between the temporal and the spiritual, and they need our fervent prayers as they do this.
So take heart, Christian. Anglicans have been working on this difficulty for a long time, and it has never been completely ironed out in a way that is transferable from nation to nation. The fact that this article was deleted in its entirety should tell us something about how we are all influenced by the political culture we inhabit. Article 37 makes it clear we should try, as best we can, to live as “professors of the Gospel.” There really is good news, and this good news can be professed by each of us, so that our whole society can continue to discern things temporal from things spiritual.
David W. Peters is the author of three books, Death Letter: God, Sex, and War,Post-Traumatic God,and Christ Walk Crushed with Anna Courie. He is the host of two podcasts, Dear Padre and a serial podcast about moral injury and penance, The Ermenfrid Penitential. David serves as the vicar of www.saintjoans.org, a new church plant in the Diocese of Texas.