Here at St. Jude’s, we’re happy and thankful to be a part of the Reformed Episcopal Church (REC), which is now a subjurisdiction of the Anglican Church in North America (ACNA). And, as I mention those two institutions, I realize that both have been deeply impacted by the Most Reverend Leonard Riches, former Presiding Bishop of the REC, who passed away on December 29th and whose funeral was held last week. Simply put, he was an integral part not only in a big transformation of the REC but also in the founding of the ACNA. I got to interact with him a bit while I was in the Philadelphia area to earn my M. Div. at Reformed Episcopal Seminary, and I had the privilege of taking a Thirty-nine Articles of Religion class from him at RES. For me, Bishop Riches was a sterling example of a Reformed Episcopalian churchman. It was a privilege to know him, and he was one of those ordained ministers who makes one proud to wear the REC “jersey.” I wanted to reflect on why that is the case, with an eye toward all Reformed Episcopalians (particularly clergymen) continuing and building upon Bishop Riches’s good example and legacy.
Gracious Conviction
Nearly everyone I have talked to that knew Bishop Riches remarked upon his graciousness. Even when occupying high positions of leadership and engaging in church business that was not only national but global in character, he was kind and magnanimous. I saw this firsthand at RES. Seminarians, let us admit, can make fools of ourselves. We are often “in the rough,” deprived of sleep, and perhaps overworked and stressed. We can be socially awkward nerds, depending on our personalities. Oh, and also ignorant–we are at seminary to learn divinity, and that’s something we often have little knowledge of going in. We say (and do) dumb things inside and outside of the classroom. One of the seminary professor’s jobs is to guide the seminarian out of folly and ignorance and into wisdom and knowledge. So it’s not just about the impartation of knowledge; it is also about spiritual formation, including through admonition.
Bishop Riches brought that kind of correction and guidance with saintly forbearance. He did not correct errors to make himself feel good. He did not use public embarrassment or shame to get his message across or to exalt himself. Instead, he was patient in presenting reasons, provoking reflection, and otherwise instilling a more meditative posture and frame of mind in students that would heed him. And you’re more likely to heed someone who you think cares about you as a person. I think Bishop Riches conveyed that, which is what helped establish him as an effective teacher.
That does not mean that he never skewered bad ideas, disentangled bad arguments, or otherwise demolished errors with acumen. Much of his ministry was about effectively safeguarding the truth of the Gospel–of maintaining the catholic deposit of Christian faith, that faith which was “once delivered” to the saints. In an era marked by fatal doctrinal and moral infidelity in the wider Anglican world, Bishop Riches toed the line of biblical orthodoxy with gusto, expected all ordained ministers under his authority to do so, and worked to form up-and-coming postulants to do the same.
There was a gravity about Bishop Riches, as I’ve noticed with other bishops. Bishops, priests, and deacons are to steward the dread mysteries of God and care for the souls of Christ’s precious flock for whom He died. We must not betray that which is entrusted to us, and, if we should do so, we should expect swift and sure discipline to be enacted to protect the sheep. Such action had to be founded upon the fullness of truth, which, again, reinforces the importance of thoroughly knowing God’s Word and all things appertaining to the fundamentals of Christian life.
If you combine this stalwart, learned orthodoxy with longsuffering kindness, you get what a colleague of mine referred to as the “velvet hammer” approach to correction and teaching. Bishop Riches could correct an erroneous position or claim that you made, and you would feel good about it afterward, relieved to be set free from an error rather than angry that you were somehow talked down to or shown up in a teaching or counseling situation. In other words, you can be right and faithful without being a jerk. Yes, this principle translates well to many areas of life, but I think it helps explain why Bishop Riches’ ecclesiastical leadership was so effective.
Leadership
While it’s a cliche, good leaders have to provide some sort of positive, compelling vision to those that follow them. And it takes long, hard, unglamorous work to impart that vision, especially when an institution you lead is struggling in various ways. Bishop Riches came into an REC that was moribund and in numerical decline. Apparently, in his younger days, he (or another student of RES) was discouraged from attending the seminary because there wasn’t a church needing a new pastor in the near future–“Why are you studying at seminary? We haven’t a church for you.” In other words, the concept of planting new parishes had become foreign to the (then) denomination. It was a “zero-sum” mentality, exacerbated by what Riches called the “bonzai approach” to churchmanship: being small and fractious, clipping off and otherwise purging fellow members from time to time, was a mark of faithfulness. If you combine the lack of evangelistic vision with this insular combativeness, you have an ecclesiastical disaster on your hands. Extinction is only a matter of time.
To foster a course-correction, Bishop Riches provided a needed vision for the REC, and I think he did so by hearkening back to certain fundamental principles. First, what are we? “Not the Episcopal Church!” is neither a good nor a compelling answer. This meant an interest and investigation into what the Anglican Way of being a Christian is, with a focus on the primary sources of the historic Formularies that were produced at the English Reformation, itself a renewal of interest in the ultimate primary source, the Word of God, with thoughtful reflection, incorporation, and discernment regarding patristic and medieval voices. In other words, the REC needed to decide to be Anglican. This entailed weeding out a few REC idiosyncrasies that had developed over the years while also making acquaintance with other faithful, classical, orthodox Anglicans in North America and even abroad.
This tapped into a founding REC principle, which is a desire for ecumenical cordiality with other orthodox Christians, particularly those of the Protestant world. For those who know the history, the REC was active in what we now divide into the evangelical and Mainline worlds. The REC was a member of the Federal Council of Churches (which later became the National Council of Churches) and had clergymen serving in leadership at the likes of Moody Bible Institute. Simply put, it was a different world, and one of the things that tore it asunder was the rise and ascendency of theological liberalism in the Mainline Protestant bodies, which included the Federal (later National) Council of Churches. The ecumenical dreams of the REC were temporarily scuppered, because (to her immense credit) she would not compromise on orthodoxy.
But the ecumenical impulse didn’t go extinct. Bishop Riches was able to reach out to orthodox Anglicans in the Continuum and the Episcopal Church. This ultimately put the REC in the position of a founding jurisdiction of the ACNA. At the time of the ACNA’s founding, the REC brought nearly 150 years of hard experience to the table, with plenty of painful lessons learned along the way. Making those overtures, and trying to unite with other groups while remaining faithful, was always a hallmark of the REC. From what I understand, this helped break the REC out of an insular mindset.
Just as important was the re-centering of attention onto healthy church growth. What do you do about a denomination with a mission board with little to no missionaries? Or folks that label themselves evangelical lowchurchmen without a plan or resources devoted to church planting? Something needs to change.
True leadership in that situation was having the gumption to bring up the conversation in the first place. As the late Presiding Bishop Royal Grote once recalled, “Presiding Bishop Riches created a safe environment where we could dare to dream and to have conversations about what direction that the REC could take.” Now, if people are deeply devoted to the bonsai method of churchmanship, they are threatened by this, and they must be confronted. And Bishop Riches did that. It took courage and perseverance.
Thank goodness for his leadership. We at St. Jude’s are direct beneficiaries of this vision, because we ourselves are a church plant. Yes, we are an established parish now, but it took a desire for and philosophy of evangelism–of heeding the Great Commission and relying upon the work of the Holy Ghost to build up Christ’s Church–that made starting this congregation possible.
Pastoral Fundamentals
For all that he had to do, Bishop Riches kept first things first. He was always a pastor. I remember his asking after a parishioner from my sponsoring parish in Virginia. This person had been a parishioner under his care years before. He hadn’t seen this person for a while, but he knew where the person was attending, and he wanted to know how they were doing, keeping them in prayer. People were important to him, no matter where they stood in the eyes of the world. He gave them his time and his attention. A pastor must have that kind of love for the sheep of the flock.
Additionally, he was a great preacher. In fact, Bishop Riches may have been the greatest preacher I ever knew, particularly in the strain of traditional Anglican preaching. His approach was deeply expositional and devotional, characterized by clarity and precision. Indeed, I don’t believe there was a wasted syllable in his homilies. I will never forget a sermon he preached at Holy Trinity Fairfax on the church’s foundation and cornerstone. He had a large manuscript, and I never saw him look down at it. Yet, nevertheless, he kept turning the pages as he delivered a wonderful homily full of knowledge and thoroughgoing piety. There had obviously been a lot of work put into it–those kinds of sermons result only from study and prayer.
In this, Bishop Riches recalibrated my perception of what a bishop is and does. In my youth, I was raised in a denomination in which bishops were 1) “electable” managers that primarily called balls and strikes according to denominational bylaws (where theology was secondary) and 2) poor preachers. Bishop Riches was one of the first bishops I witnessed (alongside Bishop Daniel Morse) who was a profound, excellent preacher, careful guardian of doctrine and practice, and dynamic figure “leading from the front.”
Bishop Riches set high standards for pastoral care and preaching for the REC’s clergy. May those standards remain high. We live in an era where prominent voices encourage pastors to be online influencers, celebrities, and founding CEO’s of what are essentially lifestyle brands. What’s actually required of us is found in our ordination vows, and it has everything to do with the fundamentals that folks like Bishop Riches practiced and even mastered.
And while that is daunting, let us be encouraged. As Bishop Riches remains were committed to the earth a few days ago, I think we witnessed something that was very important: it is possible to finish well. It’s incredibly hard to finish well, but Bishop Riches’ life and ministry bears witness to the fact that a man of God can finish well, all by the grace of God. This is what saintly lives do–they show us that holiness really is possible, which lifts us up in the midst of our discouragement. And so let us be thankful, and praise the Lord for all His benefits.
Thank you, Lord, for Bishop Riches, and, please, Lord, raise up more men like him.
St. Jude's Anglican Church
We are a parish of the Reformed Episcopal Church. We have been worshiping together in the greater Richmond area for over a decade. We’d love to have you join us for Christian worship in the rich Anglican tradition.
