Two significant issues become apparent when contemporary Christians consider spiritual authority. The first issue is that reason guards the door—we espouse a rational faith. We wonder about personally irrational statements, such as Paul’s censure of women speaking in church (I Cor. 14:33-39). The second issue among evangelical Protestants is near fanatical reliance upon the biblical canon and near complete ignorance of its history or Christian authority prior to the Reformation.
These issues emerge as a scaffold for authority and by extension, personal orthodoxy. I suppose this is true for most evangelicals. Authority (for Protestants) was forever transformed when the New Testament Canon entered the public domain. Five hundred years into the Protestant Reformation we find very literal “New Testament Churches”. In many cases “New Testament” is not a complementary descriptor—we find pastors and believers who use the Bible for purposes other than the liberation of sinners. Instead of Precepts and Promises (Luther’s description of the Bible), many modern Protestants find an “inerrant and infallible” text used to proclaim exclusion, narrow orthodoxy, and excommunication for all who do not agree. Does anyone else remember Martin Luther and an “inerrant and infallible” papacy proclaiming doctrines of exclusion, narrow orthodoxy, and excommunication for all who do not agree?
This is evidenced by other, subtle “soli” hidden among authorities professed by Calvin and adopted by most evangelical Protestants (Callies, 2007).
• Sola Scriptura (Scripture alone),
• Sola Gratia (Grace alone),
• Sola Fide (Faith alone), and
• Solus Christus (Christ alone).
Within “Sola Scriptura” and “Sola Fide” lies “Sola Ratio“ (reason alone). “Of this I have knowledge and in this I have faith,” seems to be the order of the day. Systematic theology is a logical (and modern) extension of this phenomenon. There is cause for concern if the ultimate authority for orthodoxy among evangelical Protestants is “Sola mio” (me alone).
Today’s Protestants are an ironic crowd. They are people of the Word, but few comprehensive mastery of it or know its history or antecedent creeds. This has led to Bible verses being used in exclusive manners to defend slavery, racism, and subjugation—a practice reminiscent of a papal oligarchy defending the sale of indulgences to build St. Peter’s Church. In the following sections we will ponder whether Protestants are in danger of repeating the mistakes of their forefathers who were called as shepherds and priests—reconcilers between God and humanity—but became self-centered and self-serving. As we do this we will also consider Christ’s model as a shepherd and the conditions of the first generation of Christians after his resurrection.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Monday, February 1, 2010
Faith of our Fathers - Reconnecting with our Past
Evangelical Protestants around the world practice their faith with little reference to the non-textual antecedents that formed their fellowships and doctrines—particularly from around 100-300 A.D. Evangelicals shy away from apostolic traditions (such as the Apostles Credo; “I believe”) and simple deductions about the life of laity under their leadership.
Creeds and early church traditions were primarily oral traditions that inscribed Jesus’ teachings and early Christian doctrine in the hearts and minds of the laity. Evidence supporting the historic authenticity of the Apostles Creed is similar to that supporting the New Testament Canon affirmed at the Council of Trent in 1546. Multiple, similar versions of the Apostles Creed emerged from various locations dated around the Second Century. One may easily compare the early creeds recorded by Irenaeus in Gaul, Tertullian in Carthage (north Africa), and Rufinus in Rome. The main difference the New Testament and Apostles Creed being the Nicene Council settled the creedal question 1300 years earlier (Schaff &Wace, 1890).
What appears to have been missed by many evangelical Protestants are those traditions of the Catholic Church Luther did find authentic. A study of Luther’s introduction to the Smaller Catechism and the Catechism’s substance speaks volumes. Martin Luther, a former Augustinian monk, planted the seeds of Protestantism roughly 1500 years after Jesus walked the Earth. Luther’s original problem was with the Pope peddling indulgences (deliverance from purgatory) to raise funds for the building of St. Peter’s Church in Rome (McCain, 2005). An indulgence is similar to an executive pardon. It is the remission of the temporal punishment (consequences and/or time in purgatory) due to sin that has been forgiven by the exercise of the power of the “Keys” (Matthew 16:19; Catholic Encyclopedia, see indulgences). The greater problem was an institution that had strayed far from its original mission—to the point of putting price tags on grace, holy orders, and ecclesiastic offices. The Roman Church of Luther’s day was apparently rife with avarice and greed in high places (McCain, 2005).
Most modern Protestants do not know what to make of indulgences, purgatory, venal sin, acts of contrition, and the authority of the Pope with regard to releasing souls in purgatory. Luther suggested if the Pope had such authority he should equally and freely release all in the Name of Christ (McCain, 2005). Luther became a formidable plaintiff against Rome for neglecting its spiritual duty. Blatant disregard of Scripture led Luther to declare every believer a potential priest. Luther called for completely localized spiritual authority for pastoral overseers well versed in the Bible. According to Luther’s introduction to the Small Catechism the primary duty of the pastor or priest was to make sure each communicant understood and practiced the Ten Commandments, the Creed, and Lord’s Prayer (Lutheran Missouri Synod, 2009). A perusal of Luther’s writings suggests he examined and clarified many Catholic traditions—baptism, confession, mass, prayers, and Christian duty (McCain, 2005).
Questioning the Pope’s authority to grant forgiveness through selling indulgences eventually led to a wholesale revolt against the significant political and spiritual excesses prevalent in the Roman Church at the time. The Roman Church of Luther’s day, by all appearances, was not the Church of Peter and Paul. Unfortunately, a casualty of this revolution was the loss of many of the traditions from the early Church Fathers—traditions passed down from the first generation of churches in Jerusalem, Antioch, and Rome.
The first churches turned to Peter, for leadership, fulfilling Jesus’ words in The Gospel of Matthew (16:18). Peter was the overseer (bishop) in Jerusalem and later in Rome, where he and Paul were martyred. Under Peter’s leadership the Church authorized Barnabas, Paul, and others to serve as missionaries and overseers of churches. One may conclude from Luther’s writings that he considered a priest worthy if his congregation could recite and apply the Catechism (Lutheran Missouri Synod, 2009). In this depiction Luther has provided a glimpse of what he considered an effective Medieval Church. Effective overseers in pre-Reformation Churches shared at least two characteristics: They proclaimed the Gospel of Christ and led their congregation in practicing the oral traditions passed down from the previous generations.
Because of the great excesses found in the Roman Church in the 1500s, Protestant Christians revolted against ecclesiastic or papal authority vigorously. The intent of Luther’s reformation was to return the church to its humble origins where those wishing to lead, served. During this violent upheaval Protestants all but dismissed “overseer authority” as it became possible for the average member to check their pastor’s leadership against the Bible.
The Reformation is part of a larger historical context best described as the Age of Reason. The Protestant Reformation holds much in common with the philosophical, political, and technical revolutions that began at approximately the same time. One does well to consider Martin Luther’s break with the Rome in the context of an emerging middle class and a pivotal invention—the printing press. These circumstances gave birth to “freethinking”, the rise of rationalism, a tradition-shattering shift from feudalism to pluralistic governments, and Western civilization’s newest spiritual authority: Reason. Prior to this time, when questions of orthodoxy arose “learned” councils were called to search the letters and writings of the Church and determine doctrine (as the Council of Trent did in Luther’s day). With the advent of the common Bible, every educated believer became a council unto him or herself.
Luther proclaimed a spiritual revolution—freedom from a feudal arrangement in which believers were ruled by those claiming “divine authority”. This was not entirely different from the masses revolting against a “divinely anointed” monarch. This rebellion within the Church of Rome was the prelude to five centuries of rebellion based upon a common premise—let the people decide for themselves. Upon the heels of the Reformation we find declarations of independence from virtually all authorities attempting to rule humankind’s free will. In the greater picture we see two things—one good, the other bad.
The good thing is that those who ruled by domination, oppression, or birthright were placed on notice. Only responsible and benevolent leaders who ruled with reason were likely to find support. An educated populace became the heart of church and government. Reason became the chief authority and education became the order of the day. A “good Christian” became the product of personal Bible study more than through recitation of the Catechism. Emphasis shifted from teachers (priests) to text (Bible).
The bad thing is that a significant number of today’s Protestant churches have abandoned what were almost certainly apostolic traditions. The recitations and congregational responses of old are deemed irrelevant in modern society. While traces of the oral traditions may remain in a few congregations, many have adopted mega-church models that stress fellowship, self-help, and evangelistic endeavors. Sacramental remembrance appears to be less and less a part of the modern church. Ironically, others may have worn the Sacraments threadbare through empty, rote recitation.
At some point, faith confronts understanding. If faith is trusting in the unseen or unknown, the demand for understanding eventually becomes antithetical. In fact, Jesus stated we must become “as a child” to enter his kingdom (Matthew 18:2). In what manner are we to become as children? While we should not want to glory in ignorance, is not our faith trusting in a process we cannot comprehend? The repentant thief on the cross is an enigma because he apparently lacked everything (including understanding) but found grace.
Thus, let us reflect upon the role of faith and limits of reason in the context of the Church Fathers. In so doing we may prayerfully consider spiritual authorities and traditions. We may find it beneficial to gently reconnect with 1500 years of Christian tradition—not necessarily to change congregations, but to enrich our faith as we reunite with those who “lived by faith” prior to Martin Luther.
Creeds and early church traditions were primarily oral traditions that inscribed Jesus’ teachings and early Christian doctrine in the hearts and minds of the laity. Evidence supporting the historic authenticity of the Apostles Creed is similar to that supporting the New Testament Canon affirmed at the Council of Trent in 1546. Multiple, similar versions of the Apostles Creed emerged from various locations dated around the Second Century. One may easily compare the early creeds recorded by Irenaeus in Gaul, Tertullian in Carthage (north Africa), and Rufinus in Rome. The main difference the New Testament and Apostles Creed being the Nicene Council settled the creedal question 1300 years earlier (Schaff &Wace, 1890).
What appears to have been missed by many evangelical Protestants are those traditions of the Catholic Church Luther did find authentic. A study of Luther’s introduction to the Smaller Catechism and the Catechism’s substance speaks volumes. Martin Luther, a former Augustinian monk, planted the seeds of Protestantism roughly 1500 years after Jesus walked the Earth. Luther’s original problem was with the Pope peddling indulgences (deliverance from purgatory) to raise funds for the building of St. Peter’s Church in Rome (McCain, 2005). An indulgence is similar to an executive pardon. It is the remission of the temporal punishment (consequences and/or time in purgatory) due to sin that has been forgiven by the exercise of the power of the “Keys” (Matthew 16:19; Catholic Encyclopedia, see indulgences). The greater problem was an institution that had strayed far from its original mission—to the point of putting price tags on grace, holy orders, and ecclesiastic offices. The Roman Church of Luther’s day was apparently rife with avarice and greed in high places (McCain, 2005).
Most modern Protestants do not know what to make of indulgences, purgatory, venal sin, acts of contrition, and the authority of the Pope with regard to releasing souls in purgatory. Luther suggested if the Pope had such authority he should equally and freely release all in the Name of Christ (McCain, 2005). Luther became a formidable plaintiff against Rome for neglecting its spiritual duty. Blatant disregard of Scripture led Luther to declare every believer a potential priest. Luther called for completely localized spiritual authority for pastoral overseers well versed in the Bible. According to Luther’s introduction to the Small Catechism the primary duty of the pastor or priest was to make sure each communicant understood and practiced the Ten Commandments, the Creed, and Lord’s Prayer (Lutheran Missouri Synod, 2009). A perusal of Luther’s writings suggests he examined and clarified many Catholic traditions—baptism, confession, mass, prayers, and Christian duty (McCain, 2005).
Questioning the Pope’s authority to grant forgiveness through selling indulgences eventually led to a wholesale revolt against the significant political and spiritual excesses prevalent in the Roman Church at the time. The Roman Church of Luther’s day, by all appearances, was not the Church of Peter and Paul. Unfortunately, a casualty of this revolution was the loss of many of the traditions from the early Church Fathers—traditions passed down from the first generation of churches in Jerusalem, Antioch, and Rome.
The first churches turned to Peter, for leadership, fulfilling Jesus’ words in The Gospel of Matthew (16:18). Peter was the overseer (bishop) in Jerusalem and later in Rome, where he and Paul were martyred. Under Peter’s leadership the Church authorized Barnabas, Paul, and others to serve as missionaries and overseers of churches. One may conclude from Luther’s writings that he considered a priest worthy if his congregation could recite and apply the Catechism (Lutheran Missouri Synod, 2009). In this depiction Luther has provided a glimpse of what he considered an effective Medieval Church. Effective overseers in pre-Reformation Churches shared at least two characteristics: They proclaimed the Gospel of Christ and led their congregation in practicing the oral traditions passed down from the previous generations.
Because of the great excesses found in the Roman Church in the 1500s, Protestant Christians revolted against ecclesiastic or papal authority vigorously. The intent of Luther’s reformation was to return the church to its humble origins where those wishing to lead, served. During this violent upheaval Protestants all but dismissed “overseer authority” as it became possible for the average member to check their pastor’s leadership against the Bible.
The Reformation is part of a larger historical context best described as the Age of Reason. The Protestant Reformation holds much in common with the philosophical, political, and technical revolutions that began at approximately the same time. One does well to consider Martin Luther’s break with the Rome in the context of an emerging middle class and a pivotal invention—the printing press. These circumstances gave birth to “freethinking”, the rise of rationalism, a tradition-shattering shift from feudalism to pluralistic governments, and Western civilization’s newest spiritual authority: Reason. Prior to this time, when questions of orthodoxy arose “learned” councils were called to search the letters and writings of the Church and determine doctrine (as the Council of Trent did in Luther’s day). With the advent of the common Bible, every educated believer became a council unto him or herself.
Luther proclaimed a spiritual revolution—freedom from a feudal arrangement in which believers were ruled by those claiming “divine authority”. This was not entirely different from the masses revolting against a “divinely anointed” monarch. This rebellion within the Church of Rome was the prelude to five centuries of rebellion based upon a common premise—let the people decide for themselves. Upon the heels of the Reformation we find declarations of independence from virtually all authorities attempting to rule humankind’s free will. In the greater picture we see two things—one good, the other bad.
The good thing is that those who ruled by domination, oppression, or birthright were placed on notice. Only responsible and benevolent leaders who ruled with reason were likely to find support. An educated populace became the heart of church and government. Reason became the chief authority and education became the order of the day. A “good Christian” became the product of personal Bible study more than through recitation of the Catechism. Emphasis shifted from teachers (priests) to text (Bible).
The bad thing is that a significant number of today’s Protestant churches have abandoned what were almost certainly apostolic traditions. The recitations and congregational responses of old are deemed irrelevant in modern society. While traces of the oral traditions may remain in a few congregations, many have adopted mega-church models that stress fellowship, self-help, and evangelistic endeavors. Sacramental remembrance appears to be less and less a part of the modern church. Ironically, others may have worn the Sacraments threadbare through empty, rote recitation.
At some point, faith confronts understanding. If faith is trusting in the unseen or unknown, the demand for understanding eventually becomes antithetical. In fact, Jesus stated we must become “as a child” to enter his kingdom (Matthew 18:2). In what manner are we to become as children? While we should not want to glory in ignorance, is not our faith trusting in a process we cannot comprehend? The repentant thief on the cross is an enigma because he apparently lacked everything (including understanding) but found grace.
Thus, let us reflect upon the role of faith and limits of reason in the context of the Church Fathers. In so doing we may prayerfully consider spiritual authorities and traditions. We may find it beneficial to gently reconnect with 1500 years of Christian tradition—not necessarily to change congregations, but to enrich our faith as we reunite with those who “lived by faith” prior to Martin Luther.
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