Posted on 08/22/2006 11:47:25 AM PDT by NYer
When I ran into a friend from divinity school recently, we asked each other the normal catch-up questions. Then, in the same casual tone, she said, "So are you going to become Catholic?"
It's not that odd a question these days in theological circles. Last year a string of theologians left their Protestant denominations for the church of Rome. The list includes three Lutherans—Reinhard Hütter and Bruce Marshall, theologians at Methodist seminaries (Duke and Southern Methodist), and Mickey Mattox, a Luther scholar at Marquette; two Anglicans—Rusty Reno of Creighton and Douglas Farrow of McGill University; and a Mennonite—Gerald Schlabach of St. Thomas University.
All six all have strong connections to mainline institutions, and several were involved in official ecumenical conversation at high levels. They are also relatively young, poised to influence students and congregations for several decades. They more or less fit the description "postliberal" in that they accept such mainline practices as historical criticism and women's ordination while wanting the church to exhibit more robust dogmatic commitments. All of them embrace what Mattox describes as an "evangelical, catholic and orthodox" vision of the church. They could not see a way to be all those things within mainline denominations.
Rusty Reno, who studied with George Lindbeck at Yale, is best known for his book In the Ruins of the Church: Sustaining Faith in an Age of Diminished Christianity (Brazos). He argued that mainline churches like the U.S. Episcopal Church are in disarray because of their inattention to church teaching and scripture and because they accept modernity's relegation of religion to the private realm of feeling. But in making this argument in 2002, Reno maintained that orthodox believers should not leave their home churches. The proper scriptural response to living in ruins, he said, is to follow the example of Nehemiah, who dedicated himself to living in a devastated city. To flee institutions in search of something supposedly better elsewhere would be to simply replicate the modern tendency to favor a posture of ironic distance over one of dogged commitment.
In a February 2005 article in First Things, aptly titled "Out of the Ruins," Reno announced that he had changed his mind. He had left the denomination that he had long seen as a "smugly self-satisfied member of the liberal Protestant club." What had changed? Reno writes that his defense of staying in the Episcopal Church had become more a theory to him than a full-blooded commitment. And he had come to agree with John Henry Newman, the archetype for any Anglican converting to Rome, that the Anglican via media, its prizing of the middle path between extremes, is a mistake. After all, in the fourth century it was the backers of the homoiousion term in the Nicene Creed who were the via media party, with the claim that Christ became God. The backers of homoousion, with their claim that Christ is eternally God, were the extremists—though eventually the church determined them to be right.
More important, Reno wrote, his feelings had changed. "I may have wanted to return to the ruins of the Church with Nehemiah's devotion, but in reality I was thinking bitter thoughts as I sat in my pew. The most innocuous diversions from the Prayer Book made me angry. The sermons of my quite faithful rector were subjected to an uncharitable scrutiny. . . . The good people of my parish lost their individuality and were absorbed into my mental picture of 'Episcopalians,' people to whom I would be heroically but lovelessly loyal."
It's unclear how Reno made this move without indulging the modernist temptations—listening to one's feelings, being impatient with institutions, believing things are better elsewhere—that he describes so well in In the Ruins. He claims that having taught at a liberal Jesuit school, Creighton, he is "not naive about how insouciant about orthodoxy priests can be." In an allusion to recent Catholic sexual-abuse scandals he says simply, "I do read newspapers." But he does not fully explain how the Roman Catholic Church is any less "in the ruins" than the church he has left behind.
Mickey Mattox, trained at Duke, served as a consultant to the Lutheran World Federation in dialogues with the Orthodox and the Anglicans. He credits the work of Jaroslav Pelikan and Richard John Neuhaus (Lutherans who converted to Orthodoxy and Catholicism, respectively), among others, for making him both "evangelical and catholic." In a letter to friends and family upon his conversion, Mattox, previously a member of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, wrote that "the pull" of Catholicism was stronger that "the push" away from Lutheranism. Yet he worries that "the Lutheran center no longer holds, as insistent voices from the left and right dilute our catholic liturgical, catechetical and theological traditions to much the same effect." As for the pull, he wrote: "We as a family want to venerate the Blessed Virgin Mary, and to unite our prayers with and to the holy martyrs and saints. We want the holy icons, the rosaries, the religious orders, yes the relics too . . . and to practice and experience the real presence of Christ in the Eucharistic meal while retaining the bond of love and fellowship in communion with the bishop of Rome."
Mattox also has an argument particular to the Lutheran-Catholic conversation. He thinks the Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification (JDDJ) should have worked. Once both Catholics and Lutherans concluded that they have no substantial disagreements on the doctrine of justification—the doctrine on which Lutherans have long said the church stands or falls—then there is no reason why they should not reunite under the bishop of Rome. Mattox thinks the problem lies with the ELCA: "There is an institutional intransigence, I believe, on our Lutheran side, and a cultural captivity to hyper-Protestant ways of understanding the church that stymies even the best efforts to overcome the visible breach of the sixteenth century."
Marcus Grodi's guest last night was Fr. Gregory Wilson, a former Methodist. Not only was he called to the Catholic Church but to the 'cloth' as well. Grodi commented that the Catholic Church is now the fastest growing one in the world.
A rabbi, priest and chicken walk into a bar...(sorry, the headline sounded like a joke lead in)
If they believe in women's ordination, what are they doing in the Catholic Church?
I wish the Catholic Christians around the world all the best. However having observed closely the Catholic Church and Catholics, both in the USA and in the Third World, I will be remaining Protestant, thank you very much.
My daughter says it looks silly on a 51 year old lady, because "it looks like an Abercrombie and old ladies don't wear that stuff."
I still think it's pretty funny. Walk through a crowd, you'll get a couple of puzzled looks and occasionally one person who smiles.
IOW-Luther and Erasmus didn't quite know what each other were talking about. Sound like he'll make a good Catholic.
I'm glad you're not generalizing.
God bless you ikka, you have summed up brilliantly why theological lectures and disputations pale in comparison to the example of simple Catholic Christian leading a devout and holy life.
Let your words be a lesson to all of us Catholics to conform more closely to the example of our Divine Lord so that others see His image more clearly in us.
And please keep us in your prayers, ikka. We need them.
Maybe they accept women's "ordination" in their former denominations, which, after all, don't have valid Holy Orders anyway.
Discuss the issues all you want, but do not make it personal.
Have you seen the Orthodox church in both as well?
What I have observed is that once the wafer is given, and the ending song is sung, people leave. Immediately. Without talking to others.
(Some leave as soon as they have received the wafer; some leave while the last song is being sung; some wait until the priest and the monstrance have left the area where the pews are.)
Two things I have observed:
1. The set of people who are in the pews beside you, and the set of people you are friends with, are usually two different sets. So there is no interaction with other believers.
2. The personhood of Jesus, his humanity, or whatever way you want to phrase it, are not emphasized. Jesus, in the Catholic churches I have been in, is a remote figure, needing Mary and/or saints to humanize him.
The fact is, the Apostles and the early Church had some kind of "Wow Factor", which came from their spiritual connection to Jesus-as-a-person. I simply do not see this in the Catholics I know. And if you knew the Catholics I know, you would consider them good Catholics.
I contrast this with the behavior I have observed in Baptist, Mennonite, etc. churches (I have little experience with "high" Protestant churches). The people you are friends with are sitting in the pew beside you. If someone new comes to the church, it is noted and people will approach you and try to be friendly. After church, it is usual that people will stick around for 15-30 minutes talking to people they know.
Finally, I will point out as an aside the propensity for priests to be left-ish politically and completely unwilling or unable in many cases to stand up for freedom and free enterprise. Priests do not seem to understand where wealth comes from (it comes from competition, from hard work, from delivering a good or service to a customer).
I have very little knowledge of Orthodox Christendom. I have read a book or two on it, and one of my co-workers was an Orthodox priest-but I was not in touch with him a lot, since he worked remotely most of the time. I am pre-disposed to be friendly towards them, as they seem to be focused on not being swayed by the latest groupthink fad.
Ok, Let me try to explain what you are seeing from "good Catholics" at Mass...hopefully it makes some sense.
We do not believe that we are in Church to fellowship so much. Why? Because we believe that the Communion we go up to receive *IS* Christ, body blood, soul and divinity. We are literally standing in the presence of Christ from the time of the Consecration onward. Then we go up to Communion and *put Christ into our bodies*...much as Mary must've felt when she carried the Savior in her womb.
You can imagine that's a pretty lofty concept. That's why almost of our energy gets directed to Him, not to our neighbor. I think if Christ, say, miraculously appeared in your church one Sunday, you would perhaps not be so interested in your neighbor either at that point, as much as sitting in rapt attention and adoration of the Savior.
As for the humanity of Jesus not being emphasized...I'm not sure what you mean by that. It is generally Catholics who have such "earthy" devotions as the Sacred Heart, the Precious Blood, the Five Wounds. There are paintings of Christ nursing at Mary's breast...images that are almost shockingly human and familiar.
Also, you are implying that the devotion to the saints interferes with Jesus' humanity....to the contrary, we think it emphasizes it. Jesus was not just a singular individual striding across Jerusalem...He had friends, a mother, a father, cousins, grandparents...we see the devotion to the saints as being inducted into His very family...just as the mother of your best friend becomes your own mother in a way, and you become like a son to her.
As for the leaving early bit during Mass, well, there I agree with you. Not all of us are saints, you understand! :)
Could this be a positive sign of the steps taken for the coming of full Christian unity?
My question as well. However, The Christian Century is the equivalent of our 'America' - pretty liberal. The reporter's bias could be showing.
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