Who in the World Is Jeremy Taylor?

On August 13th we celebrated the feast day of Jeremy Taylor (1613-1667) at noon eucharist, a man who somehow managed to write beautiful theology while his fellow Christians were literally trying to kill each other. If you think today's church divisions are bad, Taylor lived through times when theological disagreements were settled with actual swords rather than passive-aggressive Facebook posts.

Taylor did is best work during and after the English Civil War, when Christians were so committed to being right that they forgot Paul's rather inconvenient reminder in Romans 14:7-12 that, "whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's." Apparently, the memo that we all belong to Christ got lost somewhere between the Puritans and the Royalists—much like how much of the church today seems to have misplaced the verse about being, "one body with many parts."

Instead of joining the theological fight of his era, Taylor chose to write Holy Living and Holy Dying—basically a guide to being a decent person while everyone around you is having a meltdown. Revolutionary stuff, really. While others were penning angry tracts about the minutia of doctrine or politics, Taylor was quietly suggesting that Christians should focus on actually living like Jesus.

His most radical idea was "liberty of prophesying"—the notion that Christians might disagree on secondary matters without excommunicating each other. Imagine that! Taylor believed that Paul was serious when he wrote, "Why do you pass judgment on your brother or sister?... For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God."

Jeremy Taylor faced real persecution for his convictions—including exile and imprisonment. Yet he responded with grace. His approach was so countercultural that it actually worked: people read his books for spiritual nourishment rather than ammunition for their next theological argument.

In our current climate Taylor offers that maybe—hear us out here—we could maintain our theological convictions while still treating each other like, well, people made in the image of God.

Taylor understood something many seem to have forgotten: Paul's declaration that, "every knee shall bow to me, and every tongue shall give praise to God" means God gets the final word, not us. This freed Taylor to see his opponents as fellow children of God rather than enemies of the gospel—a perspective that might serve us well when the next controversy explodes on social media.

Taylor managed to be deeply committed to his Anglican/Episcopal identity without needing to demonize everyone else. He understood that belonging to Christ was more important than belonging to any particular Christian tribe.

As we remember (or discover) Jeremy Taylor this week, maybe we could learn from his example. After all, if he could extend Christian charity during an actual civil war, surely we can figure out how to have coffee together despite disagreements.

Taylor's legacy reminds us that the art of holy living includes remembering that everyone belongs to the same God we do. Taylor calls us back to Paul's foundational truth: we're all accountable to God, not to our preferred theological writer or any political leader or party.

Who knows? We might even rediscover that Christianity is more interesting when we're not constantly trying to prove we're the only real Christians left.

See you in church,

Fr. Tom +