Frank Beckwith’s Journey Back to Roman Catholicism

In 2007, Francis Beckwith, the president of the Evangelical Theological Society, announced that he was stepping down from his post after having converted back to the Catholic Church of his childhood. Beckwith’s announcement sent shock waves through the evangelical world. Even some of Beckwith’s closest friends did not see his conversion coming.

Why did Frank Beckwith, a well-respected evangelical scholar and author, return to the church of his childhood? Return to Rome: Confessions of an Evangelical Catholic (2008, Brazos Press) is a personal memoir that tells the story of Beckwith’s decision to rejoin the Roman Catholic Church.

Return to Rome is primarily a narrative, although it is laced with Catholic apologetics, evangelical appreciation and criticism, as well as theological reflection. Speaking of his book, Beckwith states:

“It is not meant to be an apologetic for Catholicism or an autobiography in the strict sense.” (16)

Despite Beckwith’s stated intentions in writing this memoir, it is hard to see this book as something less than a Catholic apologetic, since he devotes a considerable amount of space to delineating the theological reasons for his movement back toward the Roman Catholic Church.

Beckwith begins his story with his departure from Roman Catholicism. Raised in the atmosphere of post-Vatican II Catholicism, Beckwith received little conservative and traditional teaching.

“My religion teachers often spoke of Catholicism as ‘our tradition’ rather than as a cluster of beliefs that were true. This relativizing of the faith did not engender confidence in the young students under their tutelage. Moreover, basic Catholic doctrine was often presented inadequately.” (36)

He writes honestly about the weaknesses of the Catholic environment of his childhood:

“I believe that the Catholic Church’s weakness was presenting the renewal movements like the charismatic movement as something new and not part of the Church’s theological traditions. For someone like me, interested in both the spiritual and intellectual grounding of the Christian faith, I didn’t need the ‘folk Mass’ with cute nuns and hip priests playing ‘Kumbaya’ with guitars, tambourines, and harmonicas.” (38)

Reading over the reasons for Beckwith’s departure from the Roman Catholic Church, I could not help but wonder if perhaps evangelicals are making the same mistakes he observed in the post-Vatican II era. What if evangelicals are watering down biblical truth in an effort to be “cool” and appeal to certain segments of our society? What if evangelicals are repeating the mistakes the Roman Catholics were making 30 years ago? Might such a development lead more people to Rome?

Beckwith recognizes that the Catholic Church’s intellectual tradition was also very attractive. He writes:

“My experience has been that most very intelligent Christians who had come to a deeper walk with Christ in independent Evangelical and/or non-liturgical churches often gravitate toward a theological and/or ecclesiastical tradition that has strong historical roots, such as Calvinism, Lutheranism, Catholicism or Eastern Orthodoxy.” (44)

Beckwith does not sugarcoat his experience as a young child in Catholicism. He asks tough questions of Catholicism:

“…The American Catholic Church has to ask itself a serious and painful question: is there anything that we did that helped facilitate the departure of these talented and devoted people from our communion?” (45)

Beckwith recounts the passion of his early years as an evangelical. He speaks fondly of Francis Schaeffer. He relates his enthusaism upon becoming convinced that certain creeds are authoritative renderings of Christian doctrine. He outlines the major steps in his education and his rise to prominence in evangelical scholarship.

Readers might be surprised to discover some charismatic tendencies in Beckwith’s memoir. He describes a vision of Jesus that his wife had. He interprets events in his life as signs of God’s approval of his departure from the evangelical faith back to Roman Catholicism.

Beckwith devotes considerable space to the doctrine of justification by faith, which is, of course, the defining difference between Protestants and Catholics. I found his exposition of the Protestant view to be somewhat reductionistic. For example, he writes:

“The grace one receives is legal or forensic. This means that grace is not real stuff that changes nature, but merely the name given to God’s graciousness by legally accounting to us Christ’s righteousness.” (85)

I do not know of any Protestant who argues that God’s grace is not transformative. Protestants take care to note that the basis of our justification is faith alone in Jesus Christ. But that does not exclude the transforming power of God’s grace. We simply do not call the moral transformation “justification.” Protestants are careful to avoid making our own righteousness the basis for our salvation.

The end of the book forcefully argues for inclusion of Catholics in the Evangelical Theological Society.

“I still believe that the ETS doctrinal statement is broad enough to allow Catholic members.” (119)

I actually agree with Beckwith on this issue. I do not classify Catholics as evangelicals in the classic sense, but if Beckwith is making a case for Catholic membership in ETS based solely upon the society’s doctrinal statement, then he is correct. There is nothing in this document that would explicitly exclude Catholic members.

Beckwith bolsters his case by bringing good evidence:

“Pastors and theologians like Boyd, Pinnock, and Sanders are constrained only by ‘inerrancy’ and ‘the Trinity,’ which means (at least theoretically) that they could embrace any one of a variety of heresies condemned by the ancient Church and yet still remain an ETS member in good standing: Nestorianism, Monophysitism, Pelagianism, semi-Pelagianism, or the denial of Christ’s eternal sonship. Yet oddly, Catholics who embrace the Church that claimed to have the ecclesiastical authority to condemn these heresies, and which provided to its separated progeny, including Evangelicals, the resources and creeds that provide the grounds for excluding these heresies, apparently have no place in ETS.” (126)

I find Beckwith’s case to be very persuasive. He goes on to write:

“Put in terms of specific traditions, if the term ‘Evangelical’ is broad enough to include high-church Anglicans, low-church anti-creedal Baptists, Presbyterians, Methodists, the Evangelical Free Church, Arminians, Calvinists, Disciples of Christ, Pentecostals, Seventh-Day Adventist, open theists, atemporal theists, social Trinitarians, substantial Trinitarians, nominalists, realists, eternal security supporters and opponents, temporal theists, dispensationalists, theonnmists, church-state separationists, church-state accomodationists, cessationists, non-cessationists, kenotic theorists, covenant theologians, paedo-Baptists, Anabaptists, and Dooyeweerdians, then there should be room for an Evangelical Catholic.” (128)

I agree with Beckwith that ETS should allow Catholics in its membership as long as it stands by its current doctrinal formulation. If ETS decides that Catholics should be excluded, then the official doctrinal statement needs to be adjusted in order to reflect what the society agrees is “true evangelical identity.” It might be time for a more robust confession of faith, and not the minimalist document that guides ETS today.

At the end of the book, Beckwith admits:

“…My return to the Catholic Church has as much to do with a yearning for a deeper spiritual life as it did with theological reasoning.” (128)

In the end, Beckwith confesses that a deep spiritual yearning ultimately led him back to Rome, not theological reasoning.  Return to Rome would have been better had Beckwith given us more insight into Rome’s satisfaction of his spiritual yearnings instead of the doctrinal issues that he admits were not the primary factor in his decision to return to Rome.

Visiting a Catholic Church 2

Yesterday, I began describing my visit to a Roman Catholic Church. Today, I am listing some of the positive and negative aspects of the church service.

The Scripture readings formed the high point of the service for me. I am not accustomed to hearing so much Scripture read aloud in church. The first man read a passage from Isaiah which foreshadowed the sufferings of Christ.

The second person to read was an elderly woman. She read from Philippians 2, about Christ humbling himself and then being raised and exalted by God. A woman sang a spine-tingling rendition of Psalm 22, complete with repetitive “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” lines.

Finally, we read the entire Passion narrative from Mark’s Gospel, beginning with Mark 14 and continuing all the way to Christ’s burial at the end of Mark 15. A man to the right of the stage read the narration, the priest said the words of Jesus, the woman to the left of the stage read the other voices in the narrative, and whenever the crowd in the passage spoke, so did the entire audience. This was a creative way to read the Passion narrative. I felt as if I were there, in the crowd, shouting “crucify him” and “come down from the cross.”

The sermon was the most disappointing part of the service. The priest offered a few words about the importance of the coming week. He pointed to the sufferings of Christ done on our behalf, but he did little to explain just how that takes place. The sermon lasted less than five minutes.

The way that the church took Communion was quite disturbing to this Baptist. The explanation of Communion’s significance is clearly sacrificial. The priest said a secret prayer out loud while we were singing, a prayer that we could all hear but not understand. He prayed several times that the “sacrifice” of the Mass might be pleasing to God. Then, he would speak of Jesus as our perfect sacrifice.

The ideas regarding the Mass as a sacrifice and Jesus as a perfect sacrifice were conflated. The priest did not mention who is eligible to receive the elements. I came across a paragraph at the beginning of the hymnal which specified that only Roman Catholics who have not committed grave sins can partake of the elements. But a newcomer to the church would not know what to do in this situation unless they happened to read that paragraph.

The songs were uplifting and God-centered, so I did feel encouraged to praise God. God did speak to me through His Word, but that came from the reading, not from something the priest or singers said.

Every worship service has a theology, be it sound or errant. This church’s worship service began with a song that speaks of Jesus, the coming King. From the start of the service, we were invited to worship a holy and powerful Creator God. Another song was about the sufferings of Jesus. We sang “O Sacred Head Now Wounded,” which recounted more of Christ’s sufferings. “My God, My God” was taken directly from Psalm 22 and spoke again of Jesus’ Passion. Overall, I believe the songs chosen were appropriate for the season of Lent, even though there was little explanation for how one can have the death of Jesus appropriated for our salvation.

The church’s role in the life of a believer was most evident in the priest’s remark regarding two recent funerals in the church. Also, the priest encouraged members to take flowers to the elderly in nursing homes. The priest encouraged the church to act as a family, even though the atmosphere was cold. Aside from the “passing of the peace,” people rarely spoke to each other.

The sermon did little to explain what salvation is, and who Jesus is. There was no effort to evangelize people. The entire service was created under the assumption that everyone knows what is going on, who God is, who Jesus is, and what the church is all about.

The impression one gets from visiting a Catholic Church is seriousness! Everything is taken seriously, from the music, the readers, the auditorium, to the Eucharist. It is easy to feel as if you are only a spectator and not a participant, due to the inaccessibility of some of the songs and prayers. The service itself is very structured, yet the atmosphere is informal. Some people are dressed casually, while others are dressed in suits and ties. The worship team was dressed in robes.

I grew up in a Baptist church that was a not liturgical at all. In the past few years, I have studied Catholic and Anglican liturgies, so I must say that I am familiar with this type of worship service, even if this was my first time to attend a Mass.

I enjoyed my visit to this church. There are things I can learn from the Roman Catholic Church. Even though there were several theological aberrations, I believe we can learn from this church how to better revere God and how to prize history and tradition as Baptists.

written by Trevin Wax  © 2008 Kingdom People blog

Visiting a Catholic Church 1

As Christians, we gather to worship the Lord Jesus Christ, who willingly gave His life for our redemption. Our worship gatherings express our feelings to God; at the same time, they communicate our view of God to others.

Today and tomorrow, I am describing my visit to a local Roman Catholic church, as well as my thoughts on the worship service. On Wednesday, I will describe my visit to a mega-church.

My visit to a Catholic Church took place on a Saturday night service on the eve of Palm Sunday. (The worship service on Saturday evening is identical to the services on Sunday morning.)

The priest occupies the central position of leadership in the church. It is evident from the moment he walks down the aisle during the procession. He leads the worship time, initiates the prayers and readings, and he is the one who gives the short homily. Other people who were involved in the service included the organist (who was never seen, but played from the balcony), a violinist (who also remained unseen), and a woman who led in most of the singing. Two altar boys accompanied the priest during the procession, and they remained with him onstage. They helped collect the dishes from the Eucharist after the service. Two laypeople were involved in the Scripture readings, one a man and the other an elderly woman. There were no greeters at the doors of this church.

Several things strike me as being important to the planners of this worship service. First, professionalism is definitely a goal of the singers and musicians. The music and singing from onstage and from the balcony is beautiful, creating a “high church” atmosphere. A strong sense of reverence pervades the service. Everything done must be top-notch.

Secondly, the worship service is concentrated on the individual worshipper before God. The vertical aspect of worship (God and man) overshadows the horizontal aspect (man edifying man). The worship service is designed for the individual to connect with God; little room is left for individuals to connect with other individuals.

Everyone around us sang and prayed during the appropriate times. All the worshipers had palm branches that they waved at the priest and the altar boys as they proceeded down the aisle at the beginning. The priest sprinkled water on all the worshipers as he passed, saying this was a blessing of the palm branches. No more was said about that, so I have no idea what the theology is behind the sprinkling of palm branches.

People seemed distracted during the priest’s message, even though it only lasted a few minutes. The sermon was rather predictable. People seemed to understand the priest’s message, but the priest had little time to develop an exhortation that went any deeper than a typical “We should be mindful that this is Holy Week” theme.

From what I saw, every person in the church took Communion except me. Communion was taken reverently by the people around me. The comments from the stage about the significance of Communion came out clearly in favor of transubstantiation (not surprisingly, of course).

The auditorium is typical of a Catholic Church. The altar table is central on the stage, with the pulpit to the left. Behind the altar table was a large purple curtain (for the season of Lent, I assume) and a large crucifix hanging down from the ceiling in front of the curtain. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling. On the walls, one could see wood sculptures of the Stations of the Cross. If I were to begin on one side of the church and make my way to the other side, I could follow the wood sculpting and visualize the entire Passion narrative. The pews had fold out kneeling rails, so one could kneel at the appropriate times.

The décor matched the worship service, thoroughly liturgical and reverent. The people who led the service seemed educated and at ease in their task of addressing the crowd.

I saw other worshipers holding printed bulletins and hand-outs, but since there were no greeters at the door, I did not get one and did not know where I could obtain one. Thankfully, there were hymnals in the seat in front of me, so when the woman singing songs gave hymn numbers, I was able to follow along. Also helpful was a Lenten book of prayers and Scripture readings in the pew. This book contained the long responsive reading from Mark’s Passion narrative. Without this, I would have been lost during the crucial moments of the service.

Overall, all these factors create a strong sense of tradition. The liturgy, combined with the antiphonal singing and responsive readings are deeply rooted in tradition. The décor and worship style give you the impression that you have entered into a sacred space, where you are witnessing something much bigger than yourself and your problems. I can see how this type of worship service would appeal to people who are in need of peace and quiet from the hustle and bustle of life.

Tomorrow, I’ll write a few more thoughts about my visit to this church.

written by Trevin Wax  © 2008 Kingdom People blog

Related Articles:
My Series of Conversations with a Catholic

Book Review: Understanding 4 Views on the Lord’s Supper

I’m a big fan of Zondervan’s Counterpoints series. I enjoy reading different perspectives on any number of doctrines. I eagerly awaited the Counterpoints contribution to the Lord’s Supper, and I was not disappointed.

Understanding Four Views on the Lord’s Supper lays out the Baptist, Reformed, Lutheran, and Roman Catholic views of the Lord’s Supper. Russ Moore (our dean of the school of theology at Southern) starts off the book. It’s hard to believe that Moore is actually articulating a Baptist position! As a lifelong Baptist, I have yet to come across Baptist pastors who articulate such a rich, (indeed sacramental) understanding of the memorialist view (except perhaps for Charles Spurgeon). Moore’s contribution includes the most Scripture – another good thing for a Baptist. He also rightly shows how different atonement theories are visible in the Lord’s Supper proclamation.

John Hesselink brings the Reformed position into view, quoting Calvin and the Reformed confessions at length. David Scaer clearly articulates the Lutheran position, and Thomas Baima contributes the chapter on the Roman Catholic view.

Understanding Four Views on the Lord’s Supper is a terrific addition to the Counterpoints series. I find much to be commended in each of the four views, though I would probably land somewhere in between the Baptist and Reformed perspective. The authors’ responses to the other contributors also help the reader distinguish the differing doctrines. After reading this book, I came across with a clearer understanding of how all of our theology is affected by or at least made evident in our doctrine of the Lord’s Supper.

I must not fail to mention the helpful appendix. This section includes confessions of faith from many traditions as well as a compendium of quotes from important church figures, both Protestant and Roman Catholic. One’s view of the Lord’s Supper will be enriched simply by spending time with the giants of church history whose thoughts are included in this book.

written by Trevin Wax  © 2007 Kingdom People blog

Justification – The Defining Doctrine of the Reformation

The Reformation was, in many ways, a politically-motivated religious movement of the 16th century. Even Roman Catholics today affirm that the Church of the time was in desperate need of reform. Yet, Martin Luther came to understand that the true dividing line between him and Rome was not in papal authority, the sale of indulgences, the existence of purgatory, or even the place of tradition. The fundamental difference was found in how the gospel worked… in other words, on what basis is a person justified before God?

Infusion versus Imputation

The Protestants differed from Roman Catholic on justification in several important ways. First, they believed that justification was a declaration of righteousness made by God regarding human beings. They countered the Catholic notion that justification was God’s action of “making” someone righteous by infusing grace into them. Instead, justification was being “declared” righteous, not being “made” righteous.

The Protestants believed that righteousness was not infused into the believer, but imputed to the believer. In other words, God justifies sinners by seeing them as righteous on account of Christ’s righteousness reckoned or imputed to them. How does God justify the ungodly? By declaring an ungodly person as “righteous” based on the righteousness of someone else.

God does not accept sinners by making them righteous, or by giving them heavenly grace, but solely on the basis of the death and resurrection of His Son in the place of the sinner.

Christ’s death was the moment in which he took our sins upon himself and died a substitutionary death in the place of the sinner. In the moment of salvation or justification, the sinner’s wickedness is placed on Christ and Christ’s perfect righteousness is placed on the sinner. Luther called this “the Great Exchange.” Christ takes our sin and we take His righteousness. God then declares us “righteous” on the basis of Christ’s work alone.

Faith Alone 

The way to appropriate this righteousness is by faith alone. One must simply receive the salvation that God has provided in Christ Jesus. One receives this salvation by faith alone.

“Faith alone” according to the Reformers, does not refer to a mere mental assent to certain propositional truths or Christian doctrines, but an all-encompassing trust in the mercy of God for salvation. The Reformers saw faith itself as a gift of God, given to be the instrument by which one appropriates Christ’s righteousness and can then be declared “justified” or “righteous” before God.

Good Works? 
It should be noted here that the Reformers did believe in the necessity of good works in the Christian’s life. As Calvin said, “Faith alone saves, but the faith that saves is never alone.” The Reformers believed that good works would necessarily follow as an outworking of true faith. Good works were commanded and expected of the Christian, but good works did not form the basis for a person’s justification before God.

This doctrine differed sharply from the Roman Catholic theology of the day, which saw saving “faith” as including good works. One earned salvation by cooperating with God’s grace which was infused into the believer at the moment of baptism. The Reformers rejected the idea of cooperation and synergism, because they believed any compromise on this doctrine left room for human boasting, as well as the abolishment of any assurance that one was truly faithful.

The Protestants believed that Roman Catholic theology had mixed “justification” and “sanctification” and had thus mixed faith and works. I should note that Protestants had a robust doctrine of sanctification, the doctrine of growing in Christ and doing good works. None of the Reformers believed that Christians were free to sin as much as they wanted because of their salvation. They believed that sanctification followed justification as the place where one worked out personal salvation and cooperated with the Holy Spirit in growing in grace.

The Protestants sought to distinguish between these two doctrines, in order to show how the good works of the Christian are necessary and indeed important, though they in no way form the basis of one’s salvation. The Catholics argued that divorcing justification from sanctification would lead to unrighteous living.

The Protestants believed that the Catholic doctrine of justification led to human despondency. Without assurance of right standing before God, a person could never rest in God’s mercy and unmerited love. Instead, people were driven to despair as they sought to buy and earn their salvation before God. No one could ever be sure of salvation and thus people were chained to the prison of their mind, always questioning and wondering whether or not their good works would suffice.

The Roman Catholic theologians and pastors believed that the Protestant doctrine of justification sola fide would necessarily lead to lawlessness. If a person’s good works are unnecessary to gain a right standing before God and avoid his just wrath, why would a person do them? If one can be assured of salvation based on faith alone, then the rationale for good works is ripped away. There is no incentive to holy living and righteous behavior. The Roman Catholics were worried that the Protestant doctrine would lead to wicked behavior and lawlessness.

The Protestants believed that it was the Catholic system of theology which ultimately led to self-centered, unrighteous living. If a person’s good works are motivated by the desire to gain heaven, they are not done selflessly, but selfishly – and thus are not truly good at all. According to the Catholics, a person does good works in order to earn favor with God.

The Protestants believed that only the doctrine of justification by faith alone properly freed people to love their neighbors without thought of reward or selfish prize. Once one was assured of salvation by grace through faith alone in Christ’s finished work of redemption, one could freely love people unselfishly, with thoughts of their neighbor’s wellbeing instead of their eternal state.

Some Thoughts about Luther

Luther himself was a traditionalist. If you go into most Lutheran churches, you will see that the service itself is not too different from the Roman Catholic services. Luther had no problem with liturgy, written prayers, vestments. He had no problem with stained glassed windows and statues and beautiful sanctuaries. He maintained his belief that Jesus Christ is physically present in the Lord’s Supper, so that when one eats the bread and drinks the wine, they are chewing on Christ’s flesh itself. Other Protestants would take a more symbolic view, or would defend the idea of Christ being spiritually present in the Lord’s Supper.

Luther also defended the idea of baptizing infants. He believed that the infant could actually believe the gospel.

Luther translated the Scriptures into German, and his translation became for the German people much like the King James Version became for English speaking nations. He married several years later. He continued to write. Towards the end of his life, his testimony was marred by a severe anti-Semitic bent. Some of his writings, sadly, paved the way for Hitler’s atrocities against the Jews.

Though we would disagree with Luther in many ways, he himself would say, “I am both a sinner and a saint.” And his life showed that. On his deathbed in 1546, his last words were, “We are beggars. This is true.” His life indicates the truth of that statement. We beg for God’s mercy and receive it in the robe of Christ’s righteousness, becoming simultaneously righteous and sinful – but forgiven by God.

written by Trevin Wax  © 2007 Kingdom People blog

Conversations with a Catholic 8 – Eucharist Discussion Continues

Brian’s Letter

 Trevin, 

Your agrarian defense is left wanting. Sure, as you’ve said, dead wheat gives us bread, and one can see from that a similarity to Jesus’ death giving us life, but if you intend to use it as defense of it being as clear symbolically as the “door” or “vine” stories, I’ve got to disagree. Jesus is the symbolic door through which we enter eternal life (simple), as opposed to Jesus symbolizes a wheat seed, who died and was made into a food stuff (which symbolizes his teachings, his Spirit, etc.), and we feed on that. I reiterate that it doesn’t make much sense symbolically.

If Jesus intended this symbolic meaning, he blew it by not saying, “This represents my body,” and then explaining that wheat, not the bread, is the symbol which is the object of meaning. Also, where’s the blood? This agrarian wheat manipulation ignores half of the equation by not addressing the blood.

Why not accept Jesus’ words at face value when he says, “My flesh is real food?” and “My blood is real drink”? Again, half the equation is left out if the point is made (when reversing his words for effect as you did) that he did not say “This food is real flesh”, for the other half would be “This drink is real blood.” If you think the RCC applies these reversed meanings, folks would remain baffled by the blood references, even from the agrarian standpoint. It just doesn’t make sense.

Conversations with a Catholic 7: Eucharist

 

Brian’s Letter 

Since we found some common ground on liturgy, and since the Eucharist is the high point of the RCC liturgy, let’s tackle the whole symbolic vs. literal thing with regard to communion.

You acknowledged earlier that although you don’t personally believe the Bible teaches it, the “literal” Body and Blood meaning can be gleaned from scripture (once again, so much for sola scriptura).

You go on to make the point that Jesus was speaking symbolically and compared this to Jesus saying he was door or a vine. This actually proves a buttress to my point. For example, a door does indeed symbolize that Jesus is how we pass to eternal life. It makes sense. Or to say he is a vine, one sees that through the sap (his Spirit) we receive nourishment and are part of something larger. Easy symbolism to follow, and again it makes sense. But, if Jesus was trying to get across some symbolic sentiment by comparing bread to his flesh, there’s a disconnect. Where’s the symbolism in that? It doesn’t make sense.

Conversations with a Catholic 6 – Common Ground on Liturgy

My conversation with Brian, a Roman Catholic continues.

Previous Posts in this series:
Conversations with a Catholic 1: The Church
Conversations with a Catholic 2: Tradition
Conversations with a Catholic 3: Glasses
Conversations with a Catholic 4: Interpreting Scripture 
Conversations with a Catholic 5: Liturgy 

Trevin’s Letter 

I think you’re right to move this discussion in a particular direction. We’ve been sort of all over the place up till now.

So, you want to talk “liturgy.” That’s fine with me. You’ll actually find little disagreement with me here on liturgy and the importance of our worship services.

You use several passages to prove your point about their being the need for specific rhythm and time, and then you use these as a way of transferring the importance in both Old and New Testaments to our present day. I could not agree more. You refrain from using proof texts, and instead, you point to ways in which we can see that how we worship is very important.

You are right to see the Passover parallel in Mark’s Gospel. (It’s in the other Gospels too, actually.) And of course, did you really think you would find disagreement with me on the issue of Jesus being the Lamb of God, whose death is the sacrifice pictured in the OT sacrificial system?

All churches have a liturgy, whether they realize it or not or whether they admit to it or not. I will gladly agree that many Protestant worship services could benefit from the depth of a RCC worship service. But don’t lump all Protestants together here. Anglicans have a beautiful liturgy that includes both Service of the Word and Eucharist. So do many Lutherans, Presbyterians, and yes, even Baptists.

Conversations with a Catholic 5: Liturgy

My conversation with Brian, a Roman Catholic, continues. You can read previous posts by clicking on the links below.

Conversations with a Catholic 1: The Church
Conversations with a Catholic 2: Tradition
Conversations with a Catholic 3: Glasses
Conversations with a Catholic 4: Interpreting Scripture 

Brian’s Letter 

Let me address the Eucharist, statues and icons, etc. later. Remember, a 2000 year old Church has a lot more to explain than does a church started two weeks ago in someone’s living room. Getting too much thrown at me leads to a disjointed discussion which accomplishes little.

For now, I think it’s important to return to your statement that you don’t see hierarchy and liturgy in scripture. I didn’t go in depth with regards to hierarchy and only cited a passing example or two, which were summarily pooh-poohed. But, let me exert a more thorough attempt at showing liturgy. (Although more thorough, it scarcely scratches the surface, but you should be able to catch the gist of it.)

This isn’t about “proof texts”, but is more an arms length view of scripture. So, lay your Baptist glasses on the desk for a moment, and try on these Catholic glasses…

Conversations with a Catholic 4: Interpreting Scripture

 

My dialogue with Brian, a Roman Catholic, continues. Check out previous posts in this series.

Conversations with a Catholic 1: The Church
Conversations with a Catholic 2: Tradition
Conversations with a Catholic 3: Glasses

Brian’s Letter

…picking up where we left off… Of course I can learn from the Baptist tradition. You’ve got to understand that Montgomery is a piddly 4% Catholic and is waaaaaaaaay predominantly Baptist. Many of my best friends are Baptist, and I can only but hope to approximate the piety with which they live their lives. They are powerful witnesses. And yes, obviously I read scriptures through RCC glasses, and I can say, like a convert friend of mine says… “they are the original pair… 2000 years old.”

So, continuing the “glasses” discussion, I never said patristic writings are on the same level of scripture. I merely state that those writings as historic documents tell us what the Church was like immediately following the death of the last apostle and for the next few centuries after that.

The challenge is for the Protestant to produce one writing from the first thousand years, or even the first 1500 years, of Christendom which states the Jesus spoke only symbolically about communion in John 6, or that Baptism is only symbolic, or that statues were a forbidden as idolatrous.

Conversations with a Catholic 3: Glasses

I have been corresponding with a Roman Catholic regarding the differences between our theological traditions. See previous posts here and here. 

Brian’s Letter

Trevin,

You don’t see liturgy, hierarchy, and sacraments in the NT because you read the NT through Baptist glasses. Plus, folks seeking to “find the church of the upper room” are looking for the infant church, rather than the church which has matured in understanding through the centuries. The early creeds, doctrine of the Trinity, canon of scriptures are examples of a matured understanding which occurred centuries after the upper room and which aren’t explicitly explained in scriptures. These truths are as true today as they were in the centuries in which they were formalized as well as in the time of the upper room. Yet, it took some time to hash them out.

Conversations with a Catholic 2: Tradition

My dialogue with Brian, a Roman Catholic, continues. See previous discussion here: 

Trevin’s Letter 

Hi Brian,

Thanks for the feedback on the interviews. I’m glad you enjoyed them and thought they were the basis of a good discourse.

I do not wish to dismiss the patristics. There is much that we can learn from their writings, and Baptists (and Protestants) in particular would do well to revisit the ancient church and benefit from the treasures left for us there.

I too am weary of a continual search for the “authentic New Testament church.” When I think of the early church, I consider Corinth and Galatia and other churches that were far from where they needed to be. Which church do we want to imitate? Even the early church had serious problems, with sin and with doctrine. Within a generation after Jesus, Paul condemned the Galatians for forsaking the very Gospel their church was founded upon.

Looking at the patristics, I do see liturgy, heirarchy and sacramental theology. I do not find these so much in the New Testament itself, though. Baptists believe that the early church serves as an example to us, but that ultimately, our authority lies in Scripture – the inspired Word. The New Testament is relatively quiet about church heirarchy and liturgy, which gives me the impression that the church is free to adapt and shift, as long as it remains tied to the pier of Scriptural authority.

The main difference between the RCC and Orthodox churches and Protestants on justification by faith alone is in our definition of grace and our definition of faith.

Conversations with a Catholic 1: Which Church?

Over the past two weeks, I have been corresponding with a Roman Catholic via email. Brian has graciously allowed me to make our correspondence public, so I will begin posting on this blog our letters to each other. 

Trevin’s Letter

Hi Brian,

It was nice to meet you on Friday and to hear of your mission work to India.

[You asked about my view of the Eastern Orthodox Church.] I have definite opinions on the Orthodox Church, since I did work for 5 years in Romania, which is an Eastern Orthodox country. I have had good and not-so-good experiences with the Orthodox, but I have sought to understand the theology better by reading Orthodox authors and books laying out the differences between Orthodoxy and Protestantism.

I did an interview on my blog with an Eastern Orthodox convert from evangelicalism, and then an interview with a convert the other way. If you are interested, here are the links to those interviews, as well as my thoughts on them.

Theron’s Story: Why I Left Evangelicalism for Eastern Orthodoxy
John’s Story: Why I Left Eastern Orthodoxy for Evangelicalism
Sola Scriptura: The Dividing Line between the Orthodox and Evangelicals

God bless you Brian, and I look forward to hearing from you.

Brian’s Response

I read the articles and came away thinking “What a great discourse!” …And you preserved a sense of fairness and impartiality irrespective of your Baptist background (with minor exception addressed below).

On the whole, I have a few thoughts. First, don’t be quick to dismiss the patristics. There are many first and second century writings (some purely secular historical accounts and others penned by early Christians) that give a detailed accounting of what Christian life was all about. Some of these writings are from men who learned the faith at the knee of Apostles, for example Polycarp, who was a disciple of John. Reading these one sees that the early Church closely resembled the Orthodox church. It was deeply liturgical, hierarchical, and sacramental. These accounts will not reveal a church which in any way resembles Protestantism.

Most of the earnest Protestants I know espouse, “We want to go back to the church of the upper room,” and then they cobble together their vision of what this might have looked like, not realizing that we have solid account of exactly what this church looked like. I highly recommend a book called “Four Witnesses” which examines the life of four of the early church fathers.

Secondly, in Theron’s interview it appears you’ve confused justification by “faith” alone and justification by “grace” alone. Such confusion is common, but the Orthodox and Roman Catholic Churches (RCC) have always condemned as heretical any teaching that there is salvation aside from God’s grace alone. Theron recognizes this and shifts the discussion to salvation by “faith” alone, although I’ve never heard salvation couched in “medical terms” as you eluded too – familial terms, yes, but not medical. Too lengthy to address here, I’ll simply state that Orthodox and RCC teach that faith and works flow from God’s grace, and they are inseparable (like two sides of the same coin). Mysterious yes, but fully supported by scripture. (Perhaps in some later correspondence I’ll produce supporting scripture.) Our faith is a gift of God’s grace, as are our works, and faith alone is not sufficient for salvation, nor are works wrought by our own effort (pelagianism).

One criticism where I see some unfairness in the treatment of Theron’s interview was bringing up the priests who threatened to cut off fingers. This seemed like dirty pool. With the roles reversed, Theron I’m sure could easily produce unsavory activity by Baptist pastors or youth ministers if he so desired, yet doing so might seem unfair, and indeed would be.

Is sola scriptura is the dividing line as you say? In a sense, but ultimately the dividing line is a broader question of where one’s authority lies. Did Jesus form one Church? If so, I want to be a part of it and want to submit to it (Mt 18:17, 1 Tim 3:15). Where is that Church? Is there a lineage that can be traced, or is it invisible? What role does scriptures have within this church? Does holy scriptures belong to the Church, within her bosom, or has the Church sprung from scriptures? Might Mt 16 more aptly said, “Thou art Peter, and on later writings I will build my church”? All such questions are important fodder for finding truth.

Lastly, like others who responded to your blog, I feel sad about the Orthodox guy who left for Protestantism. Don’t get me wrong… I’m glad he’s on fire for Jesus. But, it reminds me of how the social and political forces negative impacted the RCC, and how similar forces in Geneva negatively affected Calvin’s efforts. Governments and monarchies, acting in the name of Christianity, will muddle things every time. It’s sad that it happens, and it’s sad that John couldn’t find the proper perspective which would enable him to see Jesus, both in the Eucharist and in general in the Orthodox church.

This conversation continues here.