The irritating part of the Catholic Church's claim to be the church Christ founded is that she doesn't say, "Here's our delightful best guess about matters of faith and morals, and we'll take our place among the family of churches." She says, "This is the Church." She's happy to show the proof, but she doesn't back down. I was so used to doctrinal relativity and plurality that I couldn't grasp the entirety of what she was saying, and even when I did, I wondered how people could believe such things. But for the sake of intellectual honesty, I set aside the presumption that the leaders I followed HAD to be correct. I figured if the Catholic Church would make such strong claims, she had to have evidence. If it was false, that, again, would be pretty obvious. But it isn't. In fact, before I had submitted to the Catholic Church as that which Christ founded, I was forced to concede that the claim itself is reasonable. More than reasonable.
Make sure that you understand the contours of what is being said before you rush to say how "messy" it is. Devin Rose has written a book called "If Protestantism Is True." I can't speak to the quality of those arguments, but I'd have to say that my thought process was opposite of this. In order to understand what the Catholic Church was saying to me, I had to live in the paradigm that operates with this as its central truth. What would it mean? What remains true? What's different? How well does this claim fit with history? Which hermeneutical paradigm explains history best and allows me to discern the faith once delivered?
The funny thing I found, in all honesty, is that our common patrimony as Catholics and Protestants (we'll call the Orthodox 'Catholics' for the sake of this argument) was utterly contrary to the Protestant convictions I had. That is, we had to set our convictions aside in order to reasonably claim a share in that patrimony. In other words, the Church Fathers knew nothing of the Reformers' doctrine. That in itself proves nothing; Luther et al could be right. But if so, the Protestant argument cannot be one of continuity. I had to say that the claim of continuity in response to the charge of schism was out of ignorance. Discontinuity is not itself a problem, but if a claim of true continuity was the answer to the charge of schism, it's a huge problem. Because that continuity or discontinuity is established objectively. On the other hand, if I could establish a particular set of doctrines as evidently true by means of the hermeneutical method I had known, the historical problem would fade, since the obvious truth of the Scriptures would endure even if it never held sway in some mythical notion of a unified Church.
But one potential problem I saw with this Scripture-based approach is that it magnified differences in interpretation. We weren't one big happy Protestant family raising our banner against the Catholic foe; we each had formed communities that promulgated particular dissents from the Catholic Church. If I were to "win" this way, it would be a very particular set of interpretations, or at the very least, the "core" of the gospel would be very obvious, which would immediately show forth a path to unity, at least among us. If we failed to do so, the promise of a "pure" Christianity, sifted from the accretions of an arrogant hierarchy trading on the authority of Christ, would be a lie.
But every time I heard someone speak about the "simple gospel" or the "core," it was either: 1)Appealing to a time before the splits, or 2) a re-packaging of a particular set of doctrines that was no more beyond challenge, or shown true, than any other denominational or confessional position.
But the good part is, appealing to a time before the splits is a good move, because--and we know this intuitively--that unity, however short-lived, was real. Upon what was it based? How did it come to pass? Did they use Sola Scriptura to establish it? Was the ecclesiastical apparatus just a rubber-stamp for Scriptural exegesis and interpretation? If so, score one for the Reformers. But alas, not so. There was no emerging consensus of doctrine or even contents of the rule of faith by Scripture alone, because Christians did not know what "Scripture" as we know it today was. Mark Galli suggests that the church bore witness to what had already been spoken by the Spirit, but this is false. The consensus upon which he and so many others rely was established by the invocation of ecclesiastical authority. Spirit-led and sanctioned, to be sure, but the Church knew itself and its authority, and thus, defined doctrine.
What this means is that those organs of authority must still exist. It also means that "Church" is not some theoretical hope in an anticipated future, but it is visible. To maintain those bonds is as real and as necessary as Nicene Trinitarianism for the Christian. To rely on this physical Church and its authority given by Christ is to touch the very heart of the apostolic age, to touch the very heart of Jesus. I could not hope for the unity of all Christians, while holding doctrines that prevented that unity. I could not be a double-minded man, utterly convinced of truths my hermeneutic could never find, and also convinced of others our forefathers rejected. Yes, rejected. Augustine was not a Lutheran, Calvinist, or any such thing; he would tell us to repent, cleaving close to our Mother and her bishops. So would they all. I'll use a light touch with our Eastern brethren not in communion with the Roman pontiff, because I know they largely agree, and their bishops are true.
Despite whatever warm feelings I may share with my separated brethren, the children of the Reformation, I cannot go with you; I cannot pursue "unity" by denying the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church. If I had known, I would not have left her; I would not have cast my lot with another.
Make sure that you understand the contours of what is being said before you rush to say how "messy" it is. Devin Rose has written a book called "If Protestantism Is True." I can't speak to the quality of those arguments, but I'd have to say that my thought process was opposite of this. In order to understand what the Catholic Church was saying to me, I had to live in the paradigm that operates with this as its central truth. What would it mean? What remains true? What's different? How well does this claim fit with history? Which hermeneutical paradigm explains history best and allows me to discern the faith once delivered?
The funny thing I found, in all honesty, is that our common patrimony as Catholics and Protestants (we'll call the Orthodox 'Catholics' for the sake of this argument) was utterly contrary to the Protestant convictions I had. That is, we had to set our convictions aside in order to reasonably claim a share in that patrimony. In other words, the Church Fathers knew nothing of the Reformers' doctrine. That in itself proves nothing; Luther et al could be right. But if so, the Protestant argument cannot be one of continuity. I had to say that the claim of continuity in response to the charge of schism was out of ignorance. Discontinuity is not itself a problem, but if a claim of true continuity was the answer to the charge of schism, it's a huge problem. Because that continuity or discontinuity is established objectively. On the other hand, if I could establish a particular set of doctrines as evidently true by means of the hermeneutical method I had known, the historical problem would fade, since the obvious truth of the Scriptures would endure even if it never held sway in some mythical notion of a unified Church.
But one potential problem I saw with this Scripture-based approach is that it magnified differences in interpretation. We weren't one big happy Protestant family raising our banner against the Catholic foe; we each had formed communities that promulgated particular dissents from the Catholic Church. If I were to "win" this way, it would be a very particular set of interpretations, or at the very least, the "core" of the gospel would be very obvious, which would immediately show forth a path to unity, at least among us. If we failed to do so, the promise of a "pure" Christianity, sifted from the accretions of an arrogant hierarchy trading on the authority of Christ, would be a lie.
But every time I heard someone speak about the "simple gospel" or the "core," it was either: 1)Appealing to a time before the splits, or 2) a re-packaging of a particular set of doctrines that was no more beyond challenge, or shown true, than any other denominational or confessional position.
But the good part is, appealing to a time before the splits is a good move, because--and we know this intuitively--that unity, however short-lived, was real. Upon what was it based? How did it come to pass? Did they use Sola Scriptura to establish it? Was the ecclesiastical apparatus just a rubber-stamp for Scriptural exegesis and interpretation? If so, score one for the Reformers. But alas, not so. There was no emerging consensus of doctrine or even contents of the rule of faith by Scripture alone, because Christians did not know what "Scripture" as we know it today was. Mark Galli suggests that the church bore witness to what had already been spoken by the Spirit, but this is false. The consensus upon which he and so many others rely was established by the invocation of ecclesiastical authority. Spirit-led and sanctioned, to be sure, but the Church knew itself and its authority, and thus, defined doctrine.
What this means is that those organs of authority must still exist. It also means that "Church" is not some theoretical hope in an anticipated future, but it is visible. To maintain those bonds is as real and as necessary as Nicene Trinitarianism for the Christian. To rely on this physical Church and its authority given by Christ is to touch the very heart of the apostolic age, to touch the very heart of Jesus. I could not hope for the unity of all Christians, while holding doctrines that prevented that unity. I could not be a double-minded man, utterly convinced of truths my hermeneutic could never find, and also convinced of others our forefathers rejected. Yes, rejected. Augustine was not a Lutheran, Calvinist, or any such thing; he would tell us to repent, cleaving close to our Mother and her bishops. So would they all. I'll use a light touch with our Eastern brethren not in communion with the Roman pontiff, because I know they largely agree, and their bishops are true.
Despite whatever warm feelings I may share with my separated brethren, the children of the Reformation, I cannot go with you; I cannot pursue "unity" by denying the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church. If I had known, I would not have left her; I would not have cast my lot with another.
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