Full Circle with Anglican Compass: The Editor’s Story
Becoming the editor of Anglican Compass is a full-circle experience. Itโs possible that I wouldnโt be an Anglican without Anglican Compass, much less have been ordained a priest in this tradition. I spent my first 34 years in Southern Baptist churches, after all. Only God could have orchestrated the journey by which he led me to the beauty and depth of the Anglican tradition, including the vital part Anglican Compass played along the way.
Early Echoes
Years before I was actively exploring Anglicanism, the stage was being set. I grew up both in and out of the church, but when I did attend, it was in a Southern Baptist church in my North Georgia hometown. Once I could drive, I attended regularly and was baptized. However, I was never a perfect Baptist. Even if my theology had continued to align, Iโm convinced my artistic sensibilities probably doomed me to leave that tradition.
Iโve been a visual artist and storyteller for as long as I can remember (my favorite medium is charcoal). Therefore, when I moved away to college, I entered as an art major before switching to English. My art history classes exposed me to the close relationship between the church and the visual arts and how each had fueled the other for the better part of two millennia. It opened my eyes to the reality that the Christian faith could be not only good and true but also beautiful.
I served as the Baptist Student Union president at this historically Methodist college, living in and learning about the broader Christian tradition. I began to love the โMere Christianityโ of C.S. Lewis and the way he and other writers, such as John Stott and J.I. Packer, approached the faith. But it would take years for me to recognize the tradition they had in common (hint: they are all Anglicans).
Seminary Sifting
After college, I attended a Baptist seminary in Louisville, Kentucky, enrolling in a newly launched M.A. program in Theology & Arts. The church history classes that were part of my core and the classes in the arts made me explore theology across denominational lines. They exposed me to the broader and much older traditions of Christianity. I found myself challenged in my Baptist theology. I yearned for something deeper and more rooted.
Donโt get the wrong impressionโmy Baptist upbringing has greatly blessed me. And in Louisville, I was part of a wonderful Baptist church, Sojourn. That congregation put an uncommon emphasis on art and beauty. They also practiced some older liturgical rhythms, including celebrating weekly Communion. This only fueled me, however, to keep searching โfor the ancient paths, where the good way isโ (Jer. 6:16), though I didnโt know where that would lead.
The Prayer Book Lifeline
During the economic downturn in 2009, my Theology & Arts program was shuttered. I had just enough credits to be its final of three graduates the following year (fun fact: of those three, two of us are now Anglican). After graduating, I completed a โPastorโs Schoolโ and internship at Sojourn and continued to serve there informally for several years.
Fatefully, I also took on a night shift position at the campus hotel of my alma mater. By way of vitamin D deficiency, the night shift fueled a period of depression already seeping in from life circumstances. In the resulting blend of mental fog and existential discontent, I couldnโt put the words together to pray. I needed something to lean on.
Enter the Book of Common Prayer, which I began to use for the first time. The scripture-saturated offices of Morning and Evening Prayer became a lifeline for my faith as I struggled through the night and yearned with the Psalmist, โMy soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morningโ (Ps. 130:6). However, I quickly realized there was much I did not understand about the Daily Office or any of the liturgies of the Prayer Book. I needed help!
Anglican Compass Guides the Way
Anglican Compass came to the rescue. When I came across Anglican Compass (at that time called Anglican Pastor), I was astonished by the resources on the liturgy, the church calendar, the sacraments, and even the funny clothes the clergy wear available even in those early days.
What impressed me most was not just the wealth of knowledge but that it was explained in a way that was accessible yet didnโt talk down to me. I was even pointed to resources where I could dive deeper into Anglican practice and theology. This was a warm, friendly welcome into the riches of the Anglican tradition.
Resounding Deep Within
I found a temporary respite in a local Episcopal parish, but their interior drama at that point meant I would need to bide my time. Finally, a couple of years later, a new ACNA plant formedโinitially in the lobby of my Baptist church (that was both convenient and slightly awkward!). I hopped on board immediately.
A month into our interest meetings, I traveled to England and Ireland. In Ireland, while attending a Choral Evensong in the beautiful medieval sanctuary of St. Patrickโs Cathedral, Dublin, I followed the words of the Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55), the Nunc Dimittis (Luke 2:29-32), and the prayers without looking at the program. I didnโt need to.
I listened to the ancient words echo off the ancient stones. Centuries of saints, some buried directly beneath my feet, had prayed those words. They now resounded deep within me. I wasnโt joining a tradition. I was part of it, and it was part of me. The hours recovering my faith through the Daily Office and Anglican Compass drew me into this ancient tradition.
Itโs a joy to repay the favor and open the doors wide for others to discover the richness and beauty of the Anglican way.
Photo: the faรงade and spire of St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Dublin, Ireland. Photo by Jacob Davis.
True North 2024
Each December, we ask our readers to give to our TRUE NORTH campaign. We invite you to join us as we point to Jesus through the riches of the Anglican tradition. This year, with the generous support of donors, every gift up to $12,000 will be matched. Give $100, and we will receive $200. Would you prayerfully consider a year-end gift or a monthly commitment?