“It seems to me that at its root, Protestantism is a denial of the authority of the Church,” wrote a young Protestant friend (one apparently attracted to the Catholic Church) in an e-mail discussion. “I know that it’s couched in terms of ‘Sola Scriptura’ and so on, and that it would claim it’s the champion of the authority of the Bible (a positive claim) rather than denial of the Church’s authority (a negative claim); however, it still seems to me that it is a spirit that denies the unity and authority of any Church, whether Roman or no.”
A Calvinist friend in the same discussion responded: “In much the same fashion that orthodox Protestants believe that the Reformation was required because of a denial of the authority of God’s Word. If you read the confessions coming out of the Reformation it isn’t that there wasn’t a belief there in the authority of the Church. The question was one of relative authority.”
My Calvinist friend was right, for the most part, I think. The Reformers proposed what we might call an alternative paradigm. The Catholic may believe that this involved, as a matter of fact, a rejection of the Church, but then what is that Church — the matter of fact, so to speak — is one of the matters in dispute.
In any case, that’s an historical question that doesn’t really help us deal with the question of the present divisions. People are where they are, to a great extent, because they inherited the traditions of their fathers, and trying to ascribe blame or praise to those fathers doesn’t help us relate to each other now. The Second Vatican Council’s decree on ecumenism, Unitatis Redintegratio, dealt with the matter this way:
13. . . . Other divisions arose more than four centuries later in the West, stemming from the events which are usually referred to as “The Reformation.” As a result, many Communions, national or confessional, were separated from the Roman See. . . .
These various divisions differ greatly from one another not only by reason of their origin, place and time, but especially in the nature and seriousness of questions bearing on faith and the structure of the Church. Therefore, without minimizing the differences between the various Christian bodies, and without overlooking the bonds between them which exist in spite of divisions, this holy Council decides to propose the following considerations for prudent ecumenical action. . . .
19. In the great upheaval which began in the West toward the end of the Middle Ages, and in later times too, Churches and ecclesial Communities came to be separated from the Apostolic See of Rome. Yet they have retained a particularly close affinity with the Catholic Church as a result of the long centuries in which all Christendom lived together in ecclesiastical communion. . . .
It must however be admitted that in these Churches and ecclesial Communities there exist important differences from the Catholic Church, not only of an historical, sociological, psychological and cultural character, but especially in the interpretation of revealed truth. To make easier the ecumenical dialogue in spite of these differences, we wish to set down some considerations which can, and indeed should, serve as a basis and encouragement for such dialogue.
Notice that the bishops described the situation without ascribing motives or making any declarations about the causes or any judgments about the Reformers. The use of the passive voice is significant: “were separated.” And notice, here and in the rest of the passage that I did not quote, that the bishops admitted the differences but looked for every possible evidence of unity and convergence. That’s the more useful approach, now, when Christians need to be united in practice more than ever.
December 2nd, 2010 | 3:42 pm
I was raised in several different Baptist congregations as my family moved while I was growing up. The one constant I experienced was a series of schismettes over one biblical interpretation or another. Every new pastor, whether convincing or not, had a new take on the true meaning of the Bible. Sola Scriptura and the various other theological arguments always seemed to me like excuses to sever ties with Rome. The authority of the Pope and the Magisterium was a large reason I swam the Tiber eight years ago.
December 2nd, 2010 | 4:06 pm
“People are where they are, to a great extent, because they inherited the traditions of their fathers, and trying to ascribe blame or praise to those fathers doesn’t help us relate to each other now.”
How can it not help? Recognition of the reality of inheritance and tradition, both of which are matters of authority, is a huge point (in favor of the Catholic position).
December 2nd, 2010 | 5:32 pm
Gregg: how does blaming or praising “those fathers” help us “relate to each other today?”
December 2nd, 2010 | 5:37 pm
I swam the other direction across the Tiber to Methodism, which makes much more sense to me. The ecumenism of Vatican II was a marvelous thing. I enjoy sharing the lectionary across so many denominations and following a liturgy that matches the Roman one so closely.
Wesley’s sermon on the Catholic Spirit is instructive. He explains that the Catholic spirit doesn’t mean “Be of my opinion” or “Embrace my forms of worship.” It means four things: First, “love me with a very tender affection, as a friend that is closer than a brother; as a brother in Christ, a fellow citizen of the New Jerusalem, a fellow soldier engaged in the same warfare, under the same Captain of our salvation. Love me as a companion in the kingdom and patience of Jesus, and a joint heir of his glory.” Second, “commend me to God in all thy prayers.” Third, “provoke me to love and to good works.” And finally, “So far as in conscience thou canst (retaining still thy own opinions, and thy own manner of worshipping God), join with me in the work of God; and let us go on hand in hand.”
This last sentiment—join me in the work of the God—comes close to Mills’ conclusion that “Christians need to be united in practice more than ever,” but I would add this: First Things has been good at uniting Christians around shared practices, namely shared political stands, but it routinely derides liberal Christians as being apostate or deluded in some way. Jesus described for us the goals of a righteous life but didn’t tell us how to achieve or prioritize them except in the vaguest of ways.
For example, there’s a difference between a secular approach to gay rights and a liberal Christian approach, but writers and especially commentators at First Things tend to dismiss that difference. The result is a different kind of schism but one no less harmful to the body of Christ.
A copy of Wesley’s sermon can be found here: http://new.gbgm-umc.org/umhistory/wesley/sermons/39/
December 3rd, 2010 | 5:42 am
If we are talking about something more than a useful taxonomy for the study of comparative religion, then there is a danger of falling into tautology: “The true church is that which teaches the true faith” and “The true faith is what the true church teaches.”
One can, of course, try to set up an explicitly doctrinal test – “The true faith is contained in the three catholic creeds,” or “The true faith is that Jesus Christ is Lord,” although, if anyone objects that one’s chosen formula is too inclusive/exclusive, it is difficult to discover grounds on which to refute them.
Now, it is perfectly possible to avoid the question-begging assumption of defining Christians by examining their tenets, or the Church by its teaching. After all, the Edict of Thessalonica of 380, which stands in pride of place at the beginning of the Codex of Justinian, did so very neatly, by referring to “that religion which was delivered to the Romans by the divine Apostle Peter, as it has been preserved by faithful tradition, and which is now professed by the Pontiff Damasus and by Peter, Bishop of Alexandria, a man of apostolic holiness.”
Not only does it avoid the vice of circularity, but, suitably updated to refer to living authorities, it is remarkably easy of application; just what one would expect of the criterion of a divine message, intended for all, regardless of learning, capacity or circumstances.
December 3rd, 2010 | 1:18 pm
I wonder if the “young Protestant friend” in question belongs to a denomination that is (in his or her eyes, at least) currently rejecting most-to-all authority over itself, and failing to provide any substantive authority to its members.
That’s the place I’m at these days, and I’ve been asking similar questions.
This “young Protestant friend” is not wrong, I don’t believe. While the Reformation was, at least to a certain extent, necessary (things in the Roman Church really were pretty bad at the time), it’s hard to see how “Here I stand….” is not a statement that the authority of one’s own conscience can (must?) stand over and against the authority of the Church, if the two are in conflict.
It’s arguable, I think, that the situation of mainline Protestantism today is in some ways a natural outgrowth of just such a belief.
Nonetheless, it may be helpful (as it has been for me lately, when others have pointed it out) for your young friend to remember that Luther and the other reformers were not bad people hellbent on destroying the church. There were legitimate Biblical, theological, and practical issues at stake, and thank God that there were people to fight for them. The fact that the Law of Unintended Consequences seems in many ways to have prevailed in the intervening 500 years does not lessen the good that was accomplished through the Reformers.
What that means for those of us attempting to fight the good fight over the Biblical, theological, and practical issues of our own day is up to each of us to decide.
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