To ask about history, competing paradigms, and other assorted issues can be summed up in one word: authority. Evangelicalism can fret about the problem of individualism until Kermit the Frog turns purple, but until the individual is not the arbiter of what Scripture says via the principle of Sola Scriptura, there will be no way to determine what Christian faith actually is, the basis for theology and ethics, for starters.
If I were Satan, I could not devise a more brilliant strategy to take back the world: Don't attack the Christian authorities; multiply them. They'll fight for a few centuries, but most people will give up and suppose that if it were that important, smart people would agree. But that's the sick thing about Sola Scriptura: agreement is impossible, because the Bible doesn't answer back. Certain discussions only go so far. Protestant ecumenism today consists in either pretending that disagreements of major consequence (like sacramental theology) are really adiaphora, and/or that 'Mere Christianity' exists outside all the physical communities where Christians live, or is the sum total of them in some way.
In that scenario, we are almost begging to be reduced to slogans and kitschy cultural markers. Subjectivism and personal preference. Isn't this what we see? You may be dismayed by the dangerous confluence of religion and politics, but are you not responsible for it? When the 'Christian' answer to any question is as varied as the sand on the seashore, the cultural power of the Christian witness is diluted, and is replaced by the State, which takes advantage of the vacuum.
We end up with lowest common denominator theology (because we can't know much within our communities, and can't bind anyone outside them) and we thus become as communities political instruments that curry favor with the authorities, or at least arenas to re-fight the political battles of the day. Said 'liberal church' or 'right-wing church' lately? Are you sure you know what you mean by them? Can you say for certain that we're all making the distinctions?
But I was surprised at how conspicuous the features of today's Catholic life were present in the Fathers. It was jarring. "The Three Things"--Petrine primacy, apostolic succession, Eucharist--very early. Early enough to upset even the most nuanced version of "The Church fouled up the gospel" that I endeavored to tell. Where? When? And how would I know? What did early Christians understand to be the rule of faith? Did it continue? Does it continue today? It was different enough from anything recognizably Protestant that giving the Fathers five centuries or even two before they started cluttering it up with Catholic things is excessively generous. Obvious Conclusion: The Fathers have a different rule of faith than I do. It's false to say that Reformational faith is the faith of the early Church. I will readily grant that it is not wholly other, and I defer to the proper authorities for the details of that, and for the consequences to the fullness of our communion.
As I read history forward, paying special attention to the Church's own marks (let the reader understand) it became more difficult to distinguish the Catholic Church from the Church in history, because there was no obvious hijacking I could point to, no obvious rupture that cried out for the Reformation. Now, that is not to say that there was no immorality; quite the contrary. But I began to ask this question: Could this theology be true, irrespective of various failures to embody it in a Christ-like way? Because the Reformation on the whole--and the children of it--have never coherently answered whether it was a moral protest or a theological one. If moral, then why new doctrine? If theological, why would God change His mind, and hide it for so long? But we had been content to answer that question which has one answer with "yes," and if you will pardon me, damn the consequences, to both our knowledge of God personally, and to humanity. To put it starkly, a Pope's illegitimate children has no obvious connection to which view of the Eucharist I should hold. To use another analogy, if a profoundly moral man tells me that 2+2=5, he's wrong. If an evil man tells me the right answer, I don't get a second opinion.
I don't really get bent out of shape about "Constantinianism," because most people who worry about this misunderstand what they see: It was a time when the truth of the gospel was important enough to shape the path of nations. God made a promise to his Church; in spite of imprudence on the part of his servants (or even great evil) the "Church shall never perish, her dear Lord to defend." The nations can only hope to be found in Him, not the other way around.
We'll have at least one more part. Come back!
If I were Satan, I could not devise a more brilliant strategy to take back the world: Don't attack the Christian authorities; multiply them. They'll fight for a few centuries, but most people will give up and suppose that if it were that important, smart people would agree. But that's the sick thing about Sola Scriptura: agreement is impossible, because the Bible doesn't answer back. Certain discussions only go so far. Protestant ecumenism today consists in either pretending that disagreements of major consequence (like sacramental theology) are really adiaphora, and/or that 'Mere Christianity' exists outside all the physical communities where Christians live, or is the sum total of them in some way.
In that scenario, we are almost begging to be reduced to slogans and kitschy cultural markers. Subjectivism and personal preference. Isn't this what we see? You may be dismayed by the dangerous confluence of religion and politics, but are you not responsible for it? When the 'Christian' answer to any question is as varied as the sand on the seashore, the cultural power of the Christian witness is diluted, and is replaced by the State, which takes advantage of the vacuum.
We end up with lowest common denominator theology (because we can't know much within our communities, and can't bind anyone outside them) and we thus become as communities political instruments that curry favor with the authorities, or at least arenas to re-fight the political battles of the day. Said 'liberal church' or 'right-wing church' lately? Are you sure you know what you mean by them? Can you say for certain that we're all making the distinctions?
But I was surprised at how conspicuous the features of today's Catholic life were present in the Fathers. It was jarring. "The Three Things"--Petrine primacy, apostolic succession, Eucharist--very early. Early enough to upset even the most nuanced version of "The Church fouled up the gospel" that I endeavored to tell. Where? When? And how would I know? What did early Christians understand to be the rule of faith? Did it continue? Does it continue today? It was different enough from anything recognizably Protestant that giving the Fathers five centuries or even two before they started cluttering it up with Catholic things is excessively generous. Obvious Conclusion: The Fathers have a different rule of faith than I do. It's false to say that Reformational faith is the faith of the early Church. I will readily grant that it is not wholly other, and I defer to the proper authorities for the details of that, and for the consequences to the fullness of our communion.
As I read history forward, paying special attention to the Church's own marks (let the reader understand) it became more difficult to distinguish the Catholic Church from the Church in history, because there was no obvious hijacking I could point to, no obvious rupture that cried out for the Reformation. Now, that is not to say that there was no immorality; quite the contrary. But I began to ask this question: Could this theology be true, irrespective of various failures to embody it in a Christ-like way? Because the Reformation on the whole--and the children of it--have never coherently answered whether it was a moral protest or a theological one. If moral, then why new doctrine? If theological, why would God change His mind, and hide it for so long? But we had been content to answer that question which has one answer with "yes," and if you will pardon me, damn the consequences, to both our knowledge of God personally, and to humanity. To put it starkly, a Pope's illegitimate children has no obvious connection to which view of the Eucharist I should hold. To use another analogy, if a profoundly moral man tells me that 2+2=5, he's wrong. If an evil man tells me the right answer, I don't get a second opinion.
I don't really get bent out of shape about "Constantinianism," because most people who worry about this misunderstand what they see: It was a time when the truth of the gospel was important enough to shape the path of nations. God made a promise to his Church; in spite of imprudence on the part of his servants (or even great evil) the "Church shall never perish, her dear Lord to defend." The nations can only hope to be found in Him, not the other way around.
We'll have at least one more part. Come back!
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