Sooner or later, you're going to have to face it: The irreconcilable dilemma between the central hermeneutical principle of the Reformation, Sola Scriptura--with all its true implications--and the earnest desire nonetheless to have visible ecclesiastical expressions as mediating institutions between the individual man and his God. The highest and best expression of Sola Scriptura, coming as it does with a great "respect" and hopefully awareness of the ancient history, leaves one as a renaissance man, perhaps, but it does not fundamentally change the arbiter of truth: the individual. He decides what the Holy Spirit says in the Scriptures, he decides which ecclesiastical decisions from the past were the right ones, he provisionally consents to the authority he lives under now. None of this is itself an argument for Catholicism as such. But if the bitter taste of that leads you to consider the paradigmatic alternative, thanks be to God. In any case, face up to it, and don't behave as though Catholic keyboard-jockeys with points to score just came up with it yesterday. [You are a Catholic keyboard-jockey with points to score.--ed.]
The idea that the Church of Jesus Christ is invisible fundamentally isn't a doctrine, in reality. It's an explanation for the plethora of visible ecclesial institutions that were already beginning to proliferate at the dawn of the Reformation. The question is this: "How is God keeping His promises, with all this division?" Because it was to His Church that he gave the surest promise, in Matthew 16:18. And so it was.
But that's why the relation between the doctrine of God and the visible community must be explored, and forthrightly considered, in light of Sola Scriptura. It would appear to anyone paying attention that Sola Scriptura enshrined the practice of ecclesial no-fault divorce. Consider the argument:
1. God promised to preserve the Church (Mt. 16:18).
2. God cannot lie.
3. There is little chance of a visible reunion of Christian communities.
4. Therefore His true Church must exist independent of all these.
And if one believes (4) to be true, you won't even work for (3). You'll say, "That's asking the wrong question," or "That's idolatrous" or mean, or something. But did anyone notice how, if the Church exists independently of all our visible expressions, it would be unreasonable to believe that any one dogmatic pronouncement from it could be true?
On the other hand, I could cling close to my community, earnestly believing that what it teaches is God's Word to me. But a challenge to this comfortable pride sounds like this: Why follow these men, and not those? Does not every Christian (even the ones who claim it in error) believe his leaders to be sent by God?
I looked for the hermeneutical magic bullet, as it were. If I earnestly believed that my interpretation of Scripture was the right one, I would hold it with little fuss, and simply pray that the disagreements would, by the mercy of God, lessen. But how arrogant this charming-sounding position actually is! It simply wasn't reasonable to believe that my use of this hermeneutical process and method was any more sanctified--and that is, correct--than anyone else's. Moreover, if we thought so little of our divisions and our doctrine as to be willing to learn the Bible, theology, and pastoral wisdom from those outside our community, again, what does that truly say about God's interaction with that community? We are fond of blathering on and on about how much we appreciate others and can learn from their theology. And I certainly love people, and theological conversations. But perhaps we can put a hold on the ecumenical love-fests to talk about what God has said, and how we know it. It is critically important. And we owe it to ourselves to define words as precisely as we can: "Church" "schism," "heresy," and so many others. I digress a bit here. But if there isn't one, a hermeneutical magic bullet, then we all really did slice up the Body of Christ on a maybe, just like the Catholic Church says we did. It does no good to say, "We're all sinners," because that is a very specific sin, not an invitation to offer a facile sigh on the condition of man after the Fall. We said, "The Catholic Church is wrong, and we can prove it from Scripture!" I submit that all we've proven is that the written words of Scripture were never meant to be used this way. The Bible is not our god, though it rings with God's unerring breath on every page.
When I knew that nearly everything that really mattered--that is, it wasn't debatable conjecture--about Jesus came from a time I knew nothing about, I pulled on the rope. Eventually, I discovered Peter and his successors holding it. It had always been so; it will be so until Christ returns.
Make no mistake: If you say, "God has placed me in Christ's body as it finds its expression within the Lutheran churches," you're making a huge assumption about the nature of the Church, not to mention, your authority to define it. My time of struggle and doubt was difficult, but it was not irrational. You might say that the other end of the rope I pulled on was tied around my waist in the form of Acts 4:12. The most important question any person can ever ask is, "Who is Jesus Christ?" And I knew that answer. I knew it to the depths of my soul. And like so many of us, I believe that the Jesus of history and the Christ of faith are the same Person. But I needed to find Jesus in history. I needed to ask the brethren what they knew, and how they knew it. Doing this, my second-most important question went from, "What is the Church?" to, "Where is the Church?"
You might be really offended that I would even consider the possibility (and subtly suggest for others) that a Bible-believing, passionate, committed Christian such as myself was not in the Church. But I had to. This murky concept could not be applied and recognized, for one thing. And I knew that it was Christ leading me to ask every single uncomfortable question. Which is easier to believe? That I, Jason Kettinger, had followed the wrong people and had the wrong definitions and believed the wrong things, or that God didn't speak in the Scriptures and in history, doesn't care what we believe really, and was lying to us in saying he wanted us to be one people?
My theological concepts and doctrines aren't God, either. If I have to cast aside faith alone, Calvinistic determinism, and even the conceit that the Holy Spirit will make the Scriptures plain to me in order to follow Jesus Christ, so be it. I'll save you some time: (maybe) The Catholic Church is the Church. Jesus and the fullness of what He gave to the Apostles is waiting for you there.
The idea that the Church of Jesus Christ is invisible fundamentally isn't a doctrine, in reality. It's an explanation for the plethora of visible ecclesial institutions that were already beginning to proliferate at the dawn of the Reformation. The question is this: "How is God keeping His promises, with all this division?" Because it was to His Church that he gave the surest promise, in Matthew 16:18. And so it was.
But that's why the relation between the doctrine of God and the visible community must be explored, and forthrightly considered, in light of Sola Scriptura. It would appear to anyone paying attention that Sola Scriptura enshrined the practice of ecclesial no-fault divorce. Consider the argument:
1. God promised to preserve the Church (Mt. 16:18).
2. God cannot lie.
3. There is little chance of a visible reunion of Christian communities.
4. Therefore His true Church must exist independent of all these.
And if one believes (4) to be true, you won't even work for (3). You'll say, "That's asking the wrong question," or "That's idolatrous" or mean, or something. But did anyone notice how, if the Church exists independently of all our visible expressions, it would be unreasonable to believe that any one dogmatic pronouncement from it could be true?
On the other hand, I could cling close to my community, earnestly believing that what it teaches is God's Word to me. But a challenge to this comfortable pride sounds like this: Why follow these men, and not those? Does not every Christian (even the ones who claim it in error) believe his leaders to be sent by God?
I looked for the hermeneutical magic bullet, as it were. If I earnestly believed that my interpretation of Scripture was the right one, I would hold it with little fuss, and simply pray that the disagreements would, by the mercy of God, lessen. But how arrogant this charming-sounding position actually is! It simply wasn't reasonable to believe that my use of this hermeneutical process and method was any more sanctified--and that is, correct--than anyone else's. Moreover, if we thought so little of our divisions and our doctrine as to be willing to learn the Bible, theology, and pastoral wisdom from those outside our community, again, what does that truly say about God's interaction with that community? We are fond of blathering on and on about how much we appreciate others and can learn from their theology. And I certainly love people, and theological conversations. But perhaps we can put a hold on the ecumenical love-fests to talk about what God has said, and how we know it. It is critically important. And we owe it to ourselves to define words as precisely as we can: "Church" "schism," "heresy," and so many others. I digress a bit here. But if there isn't one, a hermeneutical magic bullet, then we all really did slice up the Body of Christ on a maybe, just like the Catholic Church says we did. It does no good to say, "We're all sinners," because that is a very specific sin, not an invitation to offer a facile sigh on the condition of man after the Fall. We said, "The Catholic Church is wrong, and we can prove it from Scripture!" I submit that all we've proven is that the written words of Scripture were never meant to be used this way. The Bible is not our god, though it rings with God's unerring breath on every page.
When I knew that nearly everything that really mattered--that is, it wasn't debatable conjecture--about Jesus came from a time I knew nothing about, I pulled on the rope. Eventually, I discovered Peter and his successors holding it. It had always been so; it will be so until Christ returns.
Make no mistake: If you say, "God has placed me in Christ's body as it finds its expression within the Lutheran churches," you're making a huge assumption about the nature of the Church, not to mention, your authority to define it. My time of struggle and doubt was difficult, but it was not irrational. You might say that the other end of the rope I pulled on was tied around my waist in the form of Acts 4:12. The most important question any person can ever ask is, "Who is Jesus Christ?" And I knew that answer. I knew it to the depths of my soul. And like so many of us, I believe that the Jesus of history and the Christ of faith are the same Person. But I needed to find Jesus in history. I needed to ask the brethren what they knew, and how they knew it. Doing this, my second-most important question went from, "What is the Church?" to, "Where is the Church?"
You might be really offended that I would even consider the possibility (and subtly suggest for others) that a Bible-believing, passionate, committed Christian such as myself was not in the Church. But I had to. This murky concept could not be applied and recognized, for one thing. And I knew that it was Christ leading me to ask every single uncomfortable question. Which is easier to believe? That I, Jason Kettinger, had followed the wrong people and had the wrong definitions and believed the wrong things, or that God didn't speak in the Scriptures and in history, doesn't care what we believe really, and was lying to us in saying he wanted us to be one people?
My theological concepts and doctrines aren't God, either. If I have to cast aside faith alone, Calvinistic determinism, and even the conceit that the Holy Spirit will make the Scriptures plain to me in order to follow Jesus Christ, so be it. I'll save you some time: (maybe) The Catholic Church is the Church. Jesus and the fullness of what He gave to the Apostles is waiting for you there.
Comments
If you want to do apologetics to sell Protestants, though, I think the thing worth asking is "what questions are the average Protestant asking" and how can I move from what they believe to what I want to convince them to believe. That is, why not start and show how Scripture is compatible with that which you are arguing for. Only once you show that there is a paradigm shift from the potential for there to be a divide between the invisible people of God ("those who embrace God's covenant with the heart" in the OT) and the visible "church" (those who often were opposed to God in the OT) to complete alignment between those two groups in the NT will you convince Protestants...