Recently I had the pleasure of coming across an article entitled “Christ’s Test of our Orthodoxy” on Ordained Servant, a Journal published by the Orthodox Presbyterian Church. I was a member of this denomination for six years, and the title immediately caught my attention. Pastor Jack W. Sawyer’s article can be read here.

So many times on Called to Communion we have rightly spoken to the areas in which we differ from our Reformed Brethren, from which we have in a sacramental sense have broken the ties which have bound us. The issues that divide us are important, that is true. But in so many ways, as former Reformed Christians who have become Catholics, we acknowledge the light and goodness, the beauty and truth, that is found within the Reformed Protestant circles from which we left. And so with the spirit of thankfulness for what we still hold in common with Reformed Believers, I want to focus on Pastor Sawyer’s article on Christ’s Test of our Orthodoxy.

He introduces his position on what Christ’s test for our Orthodoxy is by discussing what may be obvious tests of orthodoxy, but moves to the words of Our Lord Himself. In what is not too surprising for those who know the texts of the Gospels in our heads, he moves to a point which may be surprising to our experience in our own hearts. By discussing the words of Christ which speak of people knowing we are His disciples by our love for one another, he makes this comment:

Here Jesus declares that observable love between believers is to be the hallmark of the Christian community. It is to be considered the definitive mark of genuine Christianity, a certifying badge of discipleship. When outsiders observe a Christian community, according to Jesus, they are to see a beautiful, Christ-like love evidenced in the various relationships. Thus, as they observe the Christian community’s marriages, families, friendships, or gatherings, this signature mark is to stand out as the prominent atmosphere of all the relational exchanges.

After stating the hallmark of Christian life and community, Pastor Sawyer moves to his conclusion in the article with some words of practical advice. How do we reflect the heart of Christ in a world of fractured Christians? His suggestions are insightful, and in my estimation, reflect the heart of a God who holds Love to be preeminent, of a God who is Love Himself.

Similarly, I wonder what might become of a session’s ministry if it maintained a deliberate record of, at least, remaining sincerely concerned and cordial to the most challenging people that leave its church? What if these elders saw every such circumstance as a providential opportunity to demonstrate Christ-like, cross-like love toward such sheep? What if this session firmly held its doctrinal convictions—amid all such encounters—yet it also determined that agreeing to disagree, wisely and lovingly, was also just as central a matter of Christian orthodoxy?

When I read these words I could not help but think of my own life in leaving the OPC for the PCA, which was a story in itself, and the even more “dramatic” change of growing into full communion with the Catholic Church. There have been instances, as he points out, where those who have left the Presbyterian world of the OPC for other places, the Catholic Church not being the only destination. I do not want to rehash words that have been said to me and other former Calvinists, for they bring up painful moments. And truly, there have been and there will be cases of Catholics who have not continued to love those who have left the fold of the Catholic Church for Reformed Christianity and other places. There have been instances where calls for faithfulness verge on not following Our Lord’s words to forgive even seventy times seven in a day. And clearly relativism is not the solution. But the point is that Pastor Sawyer and others are making strong calls to keep loving one another after differences have been shared, to keep reaching out, even when roads diverge into different Christian communions. How can we learn from these mistakes of a lack of love for our former homes? How can we not cease to make a Call to Communion? He concludes with these words, which speak so well for themselves. As I read those words, I used them for my own spiritual reflection on my spiritual health. It reminded me of how much I am still thankful to God for my time as a Presbyterian, because the words that he wrote ring true in my ears, even to this very day.

In conclusion, all of us are remembered for something, and leaving spiritual legacy is something we do—whether good or bad, whether we like it or not. Is your orthodoxy of community as pure as your orthodoxy of doctrine? What are you currently well known for, and what do you want to be remembered for in the future? What is your church currently well known for, and what do you want it to be noted for in the future? Jesus’s will is crystal clear: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

Amen, Pastor Sawyer. Amen.

My cousin’s husband who also teaches at Auburn came into the Church last week. He had been going to Mass with them but never showed any interest. We asked how he got interested and his answer was that the sermons were so horrible, he knew there must be something else there to make the people come…

Flannery O’Connor
The Habit of Being, Collected Letters
To “A”, August 22, 1959.

In many senses, this quote from Flannery O’Connor encapsulates my thoughts about Catholicism prior to my conversion. Like the husband of Flannery O’Connor’s cousin, there is a part of my own journey to communion with the Catholic Church that was spurred on because of the shortcomings of people in Christ’s Body, not in spite of them.

Our Creed is bold in stating that we not only believe in God, we also believe in the Church–and it is not merely the Church as some pharasaical organization with a lifeless but physical attachment to the Apostles. She is One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic. The Catechism of the Catholic Church states this with regard to the holiness of the Church:

823 “The Church . . . is held, as a matter of faith, to be unfailingly holy. This is because Christ, the Son of God, who with the Father and the Spirit is hailed as ‘alone holy,’ loved the Church as his Bride, giving himself up for her so as to sanctify her; he joined her to himself as his body and endowed her with the gift of the Holy Spirit for the glory of God.”²⁸⁹ The Church, then, is “the holy People of God,”²⁹⁰ and her members are called “saints.”²⁹¹

In the light of the many flaws that we have observed throughout history, how could one describe the Church as unfailingly holy? Has She not failed to live up to the standards of God time and time again? There are many recent and ancient flaws that Catholics can be guilty of, but in our view of the Church we see all of our real life, all of our real existence, as tied to the grace of God. For a fuller explanation of this, see one of our oldest articles here. Or to read from our Catechism, this section makes the point clearly:

827 “Christ, ‘holy, innocent, and undefiled,’ knew nothing of sin, but came only to expiate the sins of the people. The Church, however, clasping sinners to her bosom, at once holy and always in need of purification, follows constantly the path of penance and renewal.”²⁹⁹ All members of the Church, including her ministers, must acknowledge that they are sinners.³⁰⁰ In everyone, the weeds of sin will still be mixed with the good wheat of the Gospel until the end of time.³⁰¹ Hence the Church gathers sinners already caught up in Christ’s salvation but still on the way to holiness:

The Church is therefore holy, though having sinners in her midst, because she herself has no other life but the life of grace. If they live her life, her members are sanctified; if they move away from her life, they fall into sins and disorders that prevent the radiation of her sanctity. This is why she suffers and does penance for those offenses, of which she has the power to free her children through the blood of Christ and the gift of the Holy Spirit.³⁰²

We are all moving, trying to respond with a more fervent “Yes” to the call to communion. Church Fathers such as St. Gregory of Nyssa would look at perfection as a constant progress in the good. Our salvation is not a simple one time transaction, but is rather a progressive vision of beatification. {For an Eastern Orthodox perspective on this which harmonizes with both Western and Eastern Catholics, I highly suggest this video.} All of this is not to say that there are no tares or wolves in sheep’s clothing. We know that with even Christ as the physical head of the Apostles, one out of twelve was full of betrayal and was described as a “son of perdition”. But it does state that even among those who are being saved, this spotless Bride of Christ is nonetheless comprised of sinners on the way to a fuller grasp of holiness.

Therefore, any thoughts about the sins in the Church must be seen as sins of Her members living apart and in contradiction to their eternal calling and home. It is why we believe, as sad as it is, that those who are sacramentally joined to Christ may also be sacreligiously severed. If we held to the “once saved, always saved” dictum perhaps there could be the true dischord of which we are accused. But our life in Christ is a journey, and sadly some have forsaken the road. Others never truly joined the road in their heart of hearts, but used the Church, which is the very Ark of Salvation, a safe haven from the storm, as a way to mask their darkness and bring about a maelstrom in the hearts of the innocent. The particular tragedy of our day deals with something so horrible that it is arguably better dealt with in mournful silence, as another contributor at Called to Communion has wisely pointed out on his personal blog. This response of silent repentance, however, is not a silence stemming from an inability to speak intellectually. For just a couple examples of a more direct confrontation of the present matter, I would recommend this article by a layman named George Weigel, and this podcast by a priest, Father Thomas J. Loya.

And so, returning to the Flannery O’Connor quote and reflecting on my own entrance into Catholicism, I am reminded of my shock that despite the flurry of articles and exposees in the early part of this millenium, piling painful detail upon painful detail, that there was nonetheless a worldwide mourning and tribute paid to the passing of Pope John Paul II, of blessed memory. It is true that abusus non tollit usum was a logical rebuttal to the idea of rejecting Catholicism on these grounds alone. But as I thought about this issue, I was overwhelmed by the fact that so many stayed true to a Church undergoing such a storm of those among its leaders who so clearly were living faithlessly. Like O’Connor’s account, I knew that there was “something else” that made the people come to Catholicism. I knew that if my own congregations suffered from similar issues, we would have dissolved immediately. As I read the news of the day, I railed against the “oddity” and lack of “humanity” in a religion that extolled a definition of chastity that included an actual emulation of the celibacy of Christ. As much as I professed Christ to be True God and True Man as a Protestant, I must confess a strong skepticism that his life of 33 years lived in chastity had an actual reflection in anyone else on earth.

In my Protestant microcosm, I could not point to a Pastor Joe or a Reverend Steve who had promised to God to devote his life to churchly activities to the point where he would forsake marriage and focus on the families of others. The idea of celibacy itself is simply unnatural in our society, and Protestantism reflects that thinking quite clearly. Unmarried men may often be youth pastors et cetera, but it is almost unheard of to have senior pastors living as unmarried men. And yet, as acquainted with my Bible as I was from my Protestant background, I simply paid no attention to these words of Christ:

For there are eunuchs who have been so from birth, and there are eunuchs who have been made eunuchs by men, and there are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. He who is able to receive this, let him receive it. Matthew 19:12

The inner struggles that you or I may have with Our Lord’s teachings do not undo the Life that Our Lord lived. They also do not negate the life that Christ says some were called to – something that my gut feelings and my society were calling “unnatural”. In fact, Christ’s own words state that this is something that only some can receive, so my own failings and inability to grasp something should never have undone His description of a life lived in utter chastity. In trying to mock Tradition with fingers pointed at those who have fallen short via one ideal (all the while not taking responsibility for my own sins), I felt myself drawn in by an example that is clear from those monastics who are on the road of faithful obedience and chastity. Try as I might, those who disobeyed did not make those who did follow with faith disappear. And in the same way, my personal call to the Church would not disappear. The more I thought of the disconnect between this ideal of chastity and my world where celibacy was nonexistent, the more I realized that I needed to consider the claims of the Church who praised both the single and the married in their call to holiness. The more I thought on the scandal of my day, the more I was drawn in. Eventually I knew these things to be detachments from Her True Life and Light. And I knew that in my own way, I was detached from the fulness of that Life and Light. May we all find a deeper attachment to His Holy Body in this Paschal Season.

The Authority of Divine Love
by Jeremy Tate

The fundamental disagreement that underlies all other Catholic-Protestant disagreements can be pinpointed, specifically, in the Catholic Church’s claim of authority.  Disbelief in the unique authority of the Roman Catholic Church has become one of the only beliefs shared by all Protestants.  Every other Catholic teaching, from baptismal regeneration to purgatory, is affirmed somewhere in Protestantism. This belief, or rather disbelief, stands alone, as the most unifying tenet of Protestant theology.  This observation might sound harsh or uncharitable, but I discovered it to be true long before I ever considered converting to the Catholic Church.  In fact, I write this essay and address this topic as one deeply indebted to my Protestant upbringing, evangelical friends, and the insights of the Reformed tradition.  I also write as a believer who has finally discovered where I belong, as I will be received into the Catholic Church on February 7.

Rather than setting out to prove the doctrinal soundness of various Catholic doctrines or attacking what I believe to be the heretical nature of various Protestant doctrines, my goal in this essay is to connect the seemingly cold issue of authority with the radical love of God given to us in Christ.  I believe that seeing this connection, will point to the truth of the Catholic Church.  Even more importantly, however, I believe that seeing this connection will point us to the incredible faithfulness of God, which, ironically, cannot be fully seen without the Catholic Church.

Universal common sense observes that authority disconnected from love becomes tyranny.  God’s love, rather than being tyrannical, is selfless and life giving.  As one created in the image of this God, the authority God has given me over my two daughters intensifies, rather than diminishes, my love for them.  Reformed Protestants and Catholics happily agree that the sources of authority that God has given to us for our spiritual growth are embodiments of his love for us.  The authority of the Bible reminds us that God loves us.  The authority of a loving pastor or parent demonstrates God’s love for us.  Even the authority of the State, in maintaining a peaceful world, shows us God’s love.  Simply put, when we stop to meditate on God’s purpose for placing authorities over us, we are quickly reminded of his Fatherly love for us.

The claim of possessing a unique authority, which the Catholic Church unabashedly makes, must be understood within this context of authority as love if believers on each side are to move towards unity.  To many Protestant ears, the most radical claim the Catholic Church makes is that she alone can authentically and infallibly interpret Scripture.  This claim, however, when considered from a thoroughly Biblical view of authority, is not so much a statement about the Catholic Church’s right to assert her own interpretation of Scripture, as it is a statement about God’s love.  Before a believer begins to consider the truth or falsity of this particular Catholic claim, the claim first has to be understood for what it is: an assertion about the extensiveness of God’s love.   When Catholics boast that their Church is the infallible interpreter of Scripture, they are saying, “God has not abandoned us, He has not left us to wonder if our own interpretation of Scripture is the right one.”  They are saying, “He has not done what love forbids…He has not left us to ourselves.”

How can Protestants and Catholics move towards unity?  First, Catholics must ask Protestants for forgiveness.  As I thought through the question of how Protestants and Catholics can make progress toward unity, I realized that Catholics must reach out first.  As a student of the Reformation, and now as one coming into the Catholic Church, I have no problem conceding that in part, the Reformation was a response to serious sin and often heinous abuses of the Catholic Church.  As seen in the sex scandal over the past decade, the Catholic Church continues to struggle with grave sin.  For this reason, Catholics must ask Protestants for forgiveness for the sin of misrepresenting to the world the loving authority of God.

In response Protestants must forgive, seventy times seven.  Then, Protestants must ask questions, each of which, when answered, will be a step towards unity.  From a Protestant perspective, these questions are not safe to ask.  They are not new questions either.  Some of the greatest and most influential Protestant theologians in history, such as John Henry Newman and G.K. Chesterton, wrestled with these questions and found their answer in the Church they had previously condemned.  For years I believed that the Catholic Church would eventually die out.  I think I believed this because I met so many people who had left the Catholic Church and joined a Reformed denomination.  It never occurred to me that my refusal to engage with the Catholic Church had made me blind.  I did not know of, nor see, the army of passionate, Christ centered, scripturally knowledgeable believers, who had converted to the Catholic Church after facing these questions.

First, Protestants must ask questions about the promises of Scripture and the character of God.  Most importantly, did Jesus himself found a Church?  I believe the answer is yes and I know many of my Reformed friends would agree.  Clearly, Christ is very busy in the gospels, teaching, training, appointing, delegating authority, and setting up a visible entity, with twelve visible leaders.   This entity, Jesus calls the Church.  If it is true that Christ himself founded a Church, then it must also be true that for a Church to be “a Church”, it must, by definition, have divine origins.  If Jesus founded a single Church and made a promise that it would be indestructible (Matt 16:18), can we trust Him?  I do not know of any Protestant denomination that claims to have been personally founded by Jesus.  The Catholic Church makes this claim.  If Jesus did not found the Catholic Church, who did?  Every single Protestant denomination or theological tradition has a man or a few men standing at its inception.  Standing in the place only Jesus can stand.  Calvin’s Reformed Church, Knox’s Presbyterianism, Wesley’s Methodism, William Miller’s Adventism, Luther’s Lutheranism, all have men as their founders.  Who founded the Catholic Church?

Second, Protestants must ask how denominationalism reflects God’s love as our Father.  If I met ten children with the same dad, none of whom would eat meals or worship together, I would be inclined to think that the children had a bad father.  When I was doing a Pastoral internship for the Presbyterian Church in America, in New York City, I had several well educated New Yorkers, ask me, “Which Christianity are you selling?”  One unbeliever, in a conversation I’ll never forget, put it to me this way, “You tell me the Bible teaches this, the Jehovah Witness at my door tells me it means that, and the ten other Churches on my block have ten more views…my take…the Bible must be an unintelligible book.”  Although few Protestants want to preach to the unbelieving world that the Bible is unintelligible, that is the message being preached every time a Church splits.

My hope, my prayer, is that this week of prayer for Church unity will be accompanied by the voices of Catholic Christians asking for forgiveness –  asking for forgiveness for failing to accurately display authority as love in reflection of our Heavenly Father.   My prayer is that Protestants would forgive and then reconsider the bold claims of the Catholic Church.