Why Stay Protestant? by Matthew Schultz

https://medium.com/@MatthewSchultz/why-stay-protestant-435b5e1006a0

A very good overview of the issues that touches on other areas in life (social, arts, music, aesthetics, etc.) that apologists and theologians usually don't mention in this whole issue of Roman Catholicism vs. Protestantism.

"Another thing needful"

Carl Trueman explains the need for a "thoughtful, learned Protestant response" to post Vatican II Roman Catholicism, and why Evangelicalism has yet to provide one:

http://www.reformation21.org/blog/2011/04/another-thing-needful.php

Seeking a Name For Ourselves

I recently listened to a twenty minute lecture by Carl Trueman titled "What Was Luther Doing on Reformation Sunday?" The lecture is a deeply practical and critically introspective application of 1 Timothy 1:1-11 to the motivations of the heart--to the reasons we seek to study theology. Trueman utilizes the passage from 1 Timothy as a sort of lens to interpret the motivations of Tetzel for selling indulgences, applying it as well to modern televangelists, bloggers and, last of all, seminarians. Why do we study theology? Is it to advance the Kingdom of God in humility? Or is it to increase our power and influence? If it is merely to increase our power and influence, then we might very well find ourselves defending whatever arguments are most convenient to this end.

While not explicitly mentioned in the lecture, Trueman's analysis supplies a possible answer to a question regularly enough posed in the combox of this blog--why do some Protestants, with degrees, grounding in Reformed theology, etc., decide to convert to Catholicism? Some, it seems, desire power and influence more than they desire to serve the truth. A sensational conversion to Catholicism provides a kind of celebrity, authority and prominence unavailable to those who quietly and obscurely serve the Lord in a Protestant church. And certainly this temptation is both apparent and increased given the celebration of "conversion stories" in modern Catholic apologetics.

Such an application of Trueman's analysis cannot be granted in the case of each and every convert, for the circumstances vary, often greatly, from individual to individual. But it certainly explains why at least some turn from the truth of the Gospel.

The talk is available for free through iTunes U. If it is not obvious already, I highly recommend it.

What must the church salvage from her tradition and what must she, if the need arises, discard?

While searching the library for another title, I came across The Essential Pope Benedict XVI: His Central Writings and Speeches. (It's a popular level work, at least judging from the content and reviews I've read so far.) Thumbing through the collection of documents brought me to an interview (from 1996) on the resolution of the contentious "canon of issues" (i.e., women's ordination, contraception, celibacy, the remarriage of divorced persons). One set of question and answer was particularly interesting inasmuch as it relates a certain conception of unity based on a gradation in the importance of beliefs (emphasis in original):

[Peter Seewald] Everything revolves again and again on this point: what must the church salvage from her tradition and what must she, if the need arises, discard? How is this question decided? Is there a list with two columns? On the right: always valid; on the left: capable of renewal?

[Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger] No, it's obviously not that simple. But there are various degrees of importance in the tradition. It was once customary in theology to speak of degrees of certitude, and that was not so wrong. Many say that we have to go back to that. The term hierarchy of truths does seem to point in this direction, namely, that not everything has the same weight, that there are, so to speak, essentials, for example, the great conciliar decisions or what is stated in the Creed. These things are the Way and as such are vital to the church's existence; they belong to her inner identity. And then there are ramifications that are connected with these essentials and certainly belong to the whole tree but that are not all of the same importance. The identity of the church has clear distinguishing marks, so that it is not rigid but the identity of something living, which remains true to itself in the midst of development. (The Essential Pope Benedict XVI [New York, NY: HarperCollins, 2003], 128-129)

A Legitimate Distinction

A distinction between essentials and non-essentials has, of course, been a staple of Protestant apologetic discourse. I'm not aware of any notable Catholic apologists who deny this distinction, but such a denial is common enough on discussion boards and blogs (a recent example may be found here here). If reasoning with those who deny the distinction seems fruitless, then perhaps the current Pope's articulation will be sufficient to convince such dissenters of its legitimacy.

The Whole Tree

The fact that we speak in such metaphors ("whole tree") when discussing essentials undergirds that the identification of these, being at its core an ontological project, is no simple task for any religious community. The learned Pope Benedict XVI acknowledges the complexity of the issue within the Roman Catholic community. And as experience shows (or will show, if you have yet to attempt it yourself), the task of absolutely delimiting these essentials is challenging; a precise periphery proves evasive. Catholic apologists should expect, then, to see some measure of difficulty on the part of Protestants to articulate a highly precise account of the essentials of Protestantism.

What should be acceptable to all is a general account. To extend Ratzinger's metaphor, we perceive the tree of our tradition and we know the trunk is essential to its identity. Let us also say that the boughs are essentials, but the twigs are non-essential. Any attempt to analyze the entire tree will encounter borderline cases where it is difficult to tell when a bough is a twig and when a twig is a bough. The existence of such borderline cases does not invalidate the clear identification of the trunk, nor of clear cases of boughs and twigs.

Each and every disagreement over the nature of the essentials does not count against the overall project of seeking essentials. It is not enough to simply note that one Protestant here disagrees with another Protestant there as to the exact list of essentials. This unreasonably bypasses the clear essentials that do unite Protestant groups; that one part of a project is difficult or unresolvable does not render the whole difficult or unresolvable.

Additionally, such an appeal is easily overturned with a similar comparison between what one Catholic here claims as the essentials and what one Catholic there otherwise claims as the essentials. If disagreement at the periphery disqualifies any and every attempt to identify essentials, then every religious community must be agnostic as to their nature.

What would be of significance is if Protestants could not even provide a general account. Here, of course, we run into that critical issue of defining our terms--just what is meant by Protestant will greatly affect the outcome of any potential critique along these lines. But I leave it to our theological opponents, should they so desire it, to fill out the rest of the argument.

Medieval Church History Lectures

One of the benefits of removing television and video games from daily life is that it affords ample time to pursue more meaningful activities. In order to cultivate a greater appreciation for the Reformation, I recently began listening to a series of lectures on the Medieval Church by Dr. Carl Trueman through Westminster Theological Seminary's iTunes University listing.

In the first half of his introductory lecture, Trueman sketches the popular and sophisticated reasons for why there is a disinclination to study medieval church history within Protestantism, while there exists a competing preference for sixteenth century and early church material. He then presents an effective case for caring about medieval church history, part of which includes the significant points of continuity between Protestant thought and earlier medieval thought.

The connection between the Reformation and earlier centuries of thought is neither new nor radical to anyone who has spent time engaging medieval source materials. (This was apparent even during my studies at NYU in the half-dozen courses I took on the medieval era, courses not even geared to strictly theological issues.) So there is much we can learn from the medieval tradition, and, of course, this information has, among its many other benefits, direct and practical application in refuting the banal claims of some lay-Catholic apologists that the Reformation represents a total innovation and complete break with earlier Christianity.

From what I've heard so far, I commend Trueman's lectures to you (which can be found through a simple iTunes search), especially since he isn't interested in reducing his presentation to a tally of who is and isn't orthodox. He seeks to have the class engage the medieval period in a critical, reflective manner, with the student coming to his or her own conclusions after properly wrestling with some of the era's major texts.

The Duties of the Lay Catholic on Matters of Doctrine

The Catholic Encyclopedia relates the duties of lay Catholics as concerns matters of doctrine:

As to doctrine

The body of the faithful is strictly speaking the Ecclesia docta (the Church taught), in contrast with the Ecclesia docens (the teaching Church), which consists of the pope and the bishops. When there is question, therefore, of the official teaching of religious doctrine, the laity is neither competent nor authorized to speak in the name of God and the Church (cap. xii et sq., lib. V, tit. vii, "de haereticis"). Consequently they are not allowed to preach in church, or to undertake to defend the Catholic doctrine in public discussions with heretics. But in their private capacity, they may most lawfully defend and teach their religion by word and writing, while submitting themselves to the control and guidance of ecclesiastical authority. Moreover, they may be appointed to give doctrinal instruction more or less officially, or may even become the defenders of Catholic truth. Thus they give excellent help to the clergy in teaching catechism, the lay masters in our schools give religious instruction, and some laymen have received a missio canonica, or due ecclesiastical authorization, to teach the religious sciences in universities and seminaries; the important point in this, as in other matters, is for them to be submissive to the legitimate teaching authority.

I am unaware of any lay Catholic apologetics ministry that faithfully practices its craft according to these requirements.

An Official Interpretation of Private Interpretation and Other Observations on Blogosphere Lay-Catholicism

In his nuanced exposition of the teaching authority of the Catholic Church, Cardinal Dulles, Professor at Fordham University and Professor Emeritus at The Catholic University of America, discusses the inevitable (and appropriate) use of private interpretation after official pronouncements by the Magisterium:

After the Magisterium has spoken, theologians play an indispensable role in giving effect to its pronouncements. Just as they took part in preparing the way for the pronouncements to be made, so too they inform the public about what has been decreed and in doing so interpret the documents. Every papal or conciliar definition or condemnation leaves a certain margin for interpretation, so that private judgment has to complete what public pronouncements left unstated. John Henry Newman insisted on this point in his defense of the Vatican decrees on papal primacy and infallibility. Once a thesis or treatise is censured, he writes, "theologians employ themselves in determining what precisely it is that is condemned in that thesis or treatise; and doubtless in most cases they do so with success, but that demonstration is not de fide." Newman considers this process of theological sifting a necessary safeguard, protecting the faithful against the "fierce and intolerant temper" of those who would brush aside theological distinctions and burden the consciences of the faithful with exorbitant demands. (Avery Cardinal Dulles, SJ, Magisterium: Teacher and Guardian of the Faith [Sapientia Press: Naples, FL, 2007], 42-43)

The significance of the quotation will not be lost on those familiar with lay-Catholic arguments on the subject. As we are often told by various lay-Catholic apologists, the use of private interpretation is unbiblical and leads to doctrinal chaos--a great spiritual evil. However, here we are told by an official representative of Catholicism that private interpretation has its place in rightly handling the public pronouncements of the Magisterium, and that it even plays a positive preventative role--inoculating the faithful against "exorbitant demands." While effective epistemological objections can be raised against the standard lay-Catholic argument above, it seems sufficient to note that the role of private interpretation cannot, on Catholic terms, be unbiblical in an unqualified sense. If Dulles is correct, and we have every reason to believe he is an official representative of Catholicism given his relevant qualifications, then the traditional texts leveled against this Protestant hermeneutical assumption are being interpreted too broadly; they strike at both Protestant and (official, authoritative) Catholic notions of private judgment. The lay-Catholic objection to private interpretation must either be abandoned or qualified. For the latter, however, it is difficult to conceive of a way in which an interpretation of a text like 2 Peter 1:20 could be seen to apply only to Protestant private interpretation, and not to the private interpretation discussed by Dulles.

I recommend Cardinal Dulles' work. Indeed, as a general matter, I think most Protestants interested in Catholicism should spend far less time reading and engaging lay-Catholic apologetic blogs and far more time reading and engaging the official works of the Magisterium and their approved scholars. The lay-Catholic convert industry, of which the lay-Catholic blogosphere is a definitive part, merely represents a conservative sociological trend. As Dulles warns, such movements may or may not properly represent the official teachings of the Magisterium:

The sense of the faithful should be carefully distinguished from public opinion in the Church, which is not a theological source attributable to the Holy Spirit, but merely a sociological fact. Public opinion may be correct, but it often reflects the tendencies of our fallen human nature, the trends of the times, and the pressures of the public media. (Ibid., 45)

Indeed, as more of us have come to see, a study of mainstream and approved Catholic scholarship shows a disparity between blogosphere Catholicism and official Catholicism (e.g. Dulles approvingly cites Raymond Brown, a scholar often dismissed as too "liberal" by conservative lay-Catholic apologists). The post-Vatican II sensibilities of the modern Magisterium cannot be found in the basic fundamentalist and evangelical sensibilities of blogosphere converts to Rome.

Consider as well how the informal hierarchy of the Catholic conversion industry functions. Acceptance into its authoritative ranks differs decidedly from entrance into the authority structure of the official Magisterium. In official Roman Catholicism, authority is transmitted via the appropriate form and application of Apostolic Succession. This naturally leads to the promotion of long-time insiders to the faith. In the conversion industry, authority is a function of the kind of conversion manifested (which necessarily excludes persons with a history of life-long Catholic commitment). The more spectacular, with respect to emotional gravity, and the more dramatic, with respect to prior involvement in Protestantism, the greater the authority of the convert to represent the (singular) core value of the movement. As such, those with a prominent voice in blogosphere Catholicism might very well be (and almost always are) completely unqualified to speak for Catholicism in any official capacity. For all their superficial attempts to cultivate an air of intellectual sophistication, Catholic sites such as Called to Communion represent little more than unauthoritative shrines to a selection of conversion narratives. Fellow converts will undoubtedly find such self-centered glorification of the cult of celebrity emotionally satisfying, as, by all accounts, they have imported and applied their evangelical altar-call sensibilities to their new faith community. But for those of us attempting to understand and engage official Roman Catholic belief and practice, nothing seems as fruitless as studying such narratives and interacting with their authors. In terms of official doctrine, they have no more standing than any other set of lay-Catholic opinions.

The natural outgrowth of such circumstances is, of course, the multiplication of situations like the one sketched above--where a popular lay-Catholic apologetic is found to be incompatible with official Roman Catholic teaching. Beyond responding to its effects on unwitting Protestants, there seems to be no value in rigorously engaging a movement that produces such arguments, since faithful adherence to the denomination it promotes would inevitably result in jettisoning many of the very arguments used to arrive at it in the first place.

Sola Scriptura As Against Division

We're often told that sola Scriptura is a "blueprint for anarchy." Yet here John Frame utilizes the sola Scriptura principle to produce something of an opposite result:

Remarkably, Scripture itself never says that believers should leave a church organization and form a new one because of false teaching. Israel in the Old Testament was often guilty of idolatry. Revivals of true worship occurred from time to time, but the nation, including the religious establishment, relapsed. After the exile, the Scribes and Pharisees represented movements toward religious purity; but Jesus said they "shut the kingdom of heaven in people's faces" (Matt. 23:13) and made each proselyte "twice as much a child of hell as yourselves" (verse 15). They are "full of hypocrisy and lawlessness" (verse 28). Jesus says that God will judge these religious leaders (verses 32-36), a threat fulfilled in the destruction of the temple in 70 AD.

But nowhere in the Old Testament, nor in Jesus' teaching, does God command believers to abandon Israel and to form a new nation, church, or denomination. God himself brings a separation between the followers of Christ and Judaism, when the synagogues expel Christians from their fellowship, and when the temple is destroyed. But there is no exhortation in the New Testament for Jewish Christians voluntarily to leave the synagogues. Rather, it is assumed that believers, like the apostles, will bear witness within the synagogues to God’s grace in Christ, as long as they are able to do so. This was the practice of the apostle Paul, who preached the gospel in the synagogues wherever he traveled.

As we have seen, there is doctrinal and practical corruption in the New Testament church as well. But again, the apostles do not call on believers to leave their churches and form new ones because of corruption. Rather, the churches themselves are to take action against it (as 1 Cor. 5:1-13). Even the church at Laodicaea, which Jesus threatens to spit out of his mouth (Rev. 3:16), is still a church (verse 14), and Jesus does not counsel true believers to leave it. Rather, he tells the whole church to repent.

The apostolic church of the New Testament is not a voluntary association. Every believer is joined to it in the body of Christ. That church is both organism and organization: it is a body, held together by the Spirit, and it is an organization, ruled by apostles, prophets, elders, and deacons. Where disputes exist, there is an orderly pattern for resolving them (Matt. 18:15-20) including provision for excommunication (verse 17, 1 Cor. 5) in extreme cases. Rightly appointed leaders are to be obeyed (Heb. 13:17). So in the first century nobody had the right to leave the apostolic church and start a new denomination (The Doctrine of the Christian Life [P & R Publishing, 2008], 399-400).

Frame has much more to say on this issue, but this suffices for the point at hand.

(Interested readers can request a larger excerpt from this chapter by e-mail. The address is located on my blogger profile.)

Post-Trent Variance

Donald Prudlo writes on the variance within post-Trent Catholic Scriptural interpretation, using Matthew 16:18 as a primary example:

The creative element in post-Trent biblical theology cannot be underestimated. Though Catholic scriptural scholarship of the period was very engaged in controversy with the reformers, it was also in the midst of one of its most innovative eras. As shown, spirited controversies took place within Catholicism that produced substantial advances in theology. Catholic thinkers did not simply respond to Protestant challenges; rather, they were actively delving deeper into scriptural sources. One prominent example was the controversy over the interpretation of the word "petra" in the famous papal proof-text Matthew 16:18: "I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church." Certainly Catholics reacted to Protestant interpretations of this passage (which tried to minimize the person of Peter, and especially of his successors), but spirited discussion also took place within Catholic circles, and the tradition attached multiple meanings to the word "petra." Erasmus, who interpreted "petra" not as Peter, but as a reference to Peter's confession of faith, was not alone. Several other Catholic writers also adopted this terminology, notably Jean d'Arbres (d. 1569), a strongly anti-Calvinist writer. John Major (1467-1550) and Jacques Lefèvre d'Etaples both interpreted "petra" as Christ himself. In doing this, they were faithful to the common patristic and medieval interpretation of the text. However, a surprisingly new interpretation adopted by Cajetan and Sixtus of Siena made "petra" stand for Peter. Surely they had polemical reasons for this move, which served to undergird the power of the papacy, but nevertheless such a reading was innovative, novel, and quite literal. Indeed, these differing positions were not necessarily opposed. Cardinal Jacques-Davy Duperron (1556-1618) responded to a pamphlet by King James VI of England by stating that interpreting "petra" as faith and as Peter were both admissible readings, corresponding to the ancient division of senses in the scriptures. These examples should clearly demonstrate the problem of trying to articulate a common position among Counter-Reformation scriptural theologians. Such controversies indicate that Catholic thought was, ironically, at once reactionary and innovative.¹

________________________

1. "Scripture and Theology in Early Modern Catholicism," in Christian Theologies of Scripture: A Comparative Introduction, ed. Justin Holcomb (New York University Press, 2006), 147.

Uncelebrated Faithfulness

David Meyer, someone in process of converting from the PCA to the Roman Catholic denomination, made some comments in a recent thread:

My Reformed ears were absolutely shocked at what I read from the early church fathers.

At seminary my friends who study the early church are neither shocked nor surprised. And they don't find such readings leading to Rome either.

Go ahead and call me a rube and say I don't know any better, but the fact is, history looks anything but Protestant... which was Newman's point.

Except Newman also implicitly concedes that the early church looked nothing like modern Catholicism. That's the critical takeaway from such a radical appeal to development; Newman's thesis strikes me as the kind of concession which makes reference to (and critiques of Protestantism based on) the early church functionally worthless. The question no longer becomes which denomination more closely resembles the early church (framed as it is on terms I would generally reject), but which denomination has the authority to properly develop the early tradition. Even if, as is often the case with Roman Catholic doctrine, the early church does not resemble the modern Magisterium's beliefs in any serious fashion, such is defensible because Rome ultimately has the authority to develop the early church's beliefs as it wills. But once this appeal is made, the debate has already shifted to a different field. Fidelity to the early church is simply a cover for fidelity to Rome.

More of the "they are dumb, that is why they convert." nonsense.

Ignorance is what we find among many converts, leading or otherwise, to Catholicism. They demonstrate a serious lack of knowledge about both the early church and the very Reformed doctrines which they claim they are rejecting. Concerning the former, I'm often able to determine from where a set of early church quotations has come by simply copying and pasting portions of it into a Google search. The results are predictable; the Catholic has simply lifted the entire set from some website, typos and all, without any evidence of critical interaction with those texts, let alone evidence of having at least read the context of those passages. They care more for the appearance of intellectualism than the hard work necessary to obtain the genuine product.

The latter failure of doctrinal comprehension is particularly revealing--they consistently fail to properly represent Reformed doctrines or demonstrate that they really understand them. This casts doubt on their claims to have seriously wrestled with the doctrines of the Reformation. It would seem these converts were (and are) more interested in inflating their egos than pursuing "the truth."

If we were to compare the big names I would dare to bet that of converts one way or the other, FAR MORE itellectuals (big names) go towards Rome than the other way around.

1. The top universities are filled with atheists, skeptics, agnostics, secular pluralists and all manner of anti-Trinitarian "Christians." The trend of "intellectuals" has been away from Christianity in general, so why would you appeal to such a thing? To be intellectual indicates little, if anything, necessarily positive about a person's spiritual state or about where the evidence leads.

2. Converts to Catholicism are notorious for dismissing the intellectual leaders of their denominations and acting as if such people are either irrelevant or downright heterodox. These converts behave as if they are the gate-keepers of true Catholic belief. The appeal to intellectualism is just a convenient abstraction.

3. Consider the nature of intellectuals in general. They often arrive at their status as "intellectual" by appealing to, pleasing and working within the fundamentally insular institutions which currently set and guard the standards of intellectual discourse and orthodoxy. But whether these standards properly represent truth is up for debate. And the "intellectual" life can be just as much about scholarship as it is about the cult of celebrity, worship of the ego and self-selection bias; indeed, the former often serves the latter. Intellectuals can hold certain positions or change beliefs for any set of reasons, none of which necessarily have to do with proper evaluations of evidence. The whole approach here seems to be nothing more than a refined appeal to consensus.

Please, I beg you, show me the equivalent of Called to Communion for the Protestants. I mean Protestants that were conservative Priests and men with degrees in theology from conservative Catholic seminaries, that then converted to the "protestant church" because of reasons of conscience.

This assumes a Protestant equivalent to Called to Communion is something to which we should aspire. But why would we want to engage in the cult of celebrity which defines the modern Roman Catholic apologetics industry? We should care about pointing people to Christ, not to conversion stories, even if these stories are overlaid with all the finery of sophistication and erudition.

And what would such a thing represent in general anyway? How many learned scholars and priests did Christ convert from the "intellectual" class of his day, scholars and priests who heard him preach, sometimes directly to them, knew his miracles and wrestled with his beliefs in light of their thorough knowledge of both the Scriptures and Jewish tradition? The response was clear and tragic--the intelligentsia lead the cries to crucify the Son of God. Whatever implicit standard you're offering here discredits the success of Christ's earthly ministry.

The true and better equivalent of Called to Communion, if we are to seek such a thing, is the uncelebrated faithfulness of countless Protestants who read the church fathers, benefit from their writings, and continue to faithfully serve the Gospel, instead of forsaking it for the fleeting egoism of being the center of a Catholic conversion narrative.

But perhaps you'd find this witness more convincing if these Protestants set up multiple blogging communities celebrating, not Christ, but their continued and steadfast adherence to Reformed doctrine.

Individualism vs. Individuality

I'm continuing a discussion from a previous thread with Nick:

This also touches upon the notion of hierarchy, which is just as decisive as the other issues. If you assert a genuine hierarchy, you're self-condemned since Luther and Calvin (and others) weren't hierarchy. If you assert no hierarchy, then each man's authority to judge/interpret is by *definition* equal.

This is a bit confusing. It doesn't follow that because Luther and Calvin "weren't hierarchy," Protestant belief is "condemned." I can still hold to a belief in hierarchy and say that the hierarchy of the Church during the Reformation was mistaken on critical issues. That's within the possible appropriate evaluations of a subordinate authority. It's also congruent with Scriptural precedent (e.g. Apostles disobeying the valid Jewish hierarchy in the New Testament, Old Testament prophets disobeying the divinely established monarchy and its temple priests and prophets, etc.).

And Luther's ultimate "middle finger" was when he said: "Unless I am convinced by Scripture and plain reason - I do not accept the authority of the popes and councils" How is this not individualism at it's bedrock?

Let's assume your quote is in context and that we can conveniently ignore all the other statements Luther made regarding the authority of the Church (or, for that matter, the good that came from the Papacy). It seems you're simply trading on different senses of what it means to be individualistic. That someone can disagree with an authority figure (or that someone ultimately does disagree with an authority figure) does not entail individualism in the sense of thinking all authority is rooted in the individual. The former is describing a basic fact of being an person with a will--that individuals can ultimately attempt to do whatever they wish within the pool of talents, resources and opportunity they've been given by God. That's a different (metaphysical?) concept than what is meant by individualism in the post-Enlightenment West. Granted many Evangelicals, products as they are of a country deeply influenced by Enlightenment, engage in individualism as properly construed, this does not reflect the attitudes and preferences of the Reformers and their faithful followers.

Also consider that lay-Catholic apologists disagree with priests and scholars within their denomination from time to time, even though these figures (who are sometimes even bishops and scholars at the same time and appointed by other bishops to commissions with oversight from the Magisterium) are authorities (in various sense of the word) above them. They do this because they believe these priests and scholars are not accurately representing the teachings of Tradition; they are failing in their roles as subordinate authorities. (And sometimes they are correct in this assessment, e.g. Luke Timothy Johnson on homosexuality.)

Likewise, Protestants can also speak of rejecting certain manifestations of hierarchical structures if it seems they have over stepped their bounds of authority or violated the principles of Scripture, God, etc. to which they have sworn allegiance as officers of the Church. How this entails individualism as construed by the post-Enlightenment conception of a self-determined identity (and all of its philosophical baggage) is unknown. Indeed, the very idea of disagreeing with an authority means that a valid authority already exists. But radical individualism denies the presence of authorities outside of man (or Scripture, in the case of the Anabaptists) from the beginning; it's not even part of the discussion.

In other words, the approach of Luther and Calvin is decidedly different than the idea that all authority ultimately rests in the individual—that the individual decides first and foremost without any respect or regard or deference to the established structure of the Church, whether in elders, councils or pastors.

Don't be simplistic in confusing similar results in some cases, where, for example, someone in the PCA who decides that Sartre's philosophy is to be preferred to the standards of the WCF, with someone who was born into a deeply anti-authority Evangelical culture and lives her entire life deciding that she'll live however she pleases. The structures are significantly different, especially when we consider the threats of excommunication and discipline--which constitute authoritative action--on an individual in a properly functioning Reformation church.

I'd be interested to see how you'd reconcile deeply individualistic approaches to Scripture with the measured approach Turretin outlines should someone find himself unable to accept the teachings of the church under which he submits:

...they ought to undertake nothing rashly or disorderly and unseasonably, so as to violently rend the body of their mother, but to refer the difficulties they feel to their church and either to prefer her public opinion to their own private judgment or to secede from her communion, if the conscience cannot acquiesce in her judgment. Thus they cannot bind the inner court of conscience, except inasmuch as they are found to agree with the word of God (Francis Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, Vol. 3 [Phillipsburg: P&R, 1997], 284).

Consider also how Turretin distinguishes between various kinds of judgments:

Three types of judge must be carefully distinguished. The first is the ultimate and authoritative who decides authoritatively and absolutely, as supreme ruler, and from whom there is no appeal. The second is that of a functionary or minister, who gives a decision as a public official. The third is personal or private-the individual's decision regarding either the law or its interpretation. In the first case, the decision is final and absolute. In the second, it is official, but subordinate and limited by the law. In the third case, it is a personal opinion without official standing (The Supreme Judge of Controversies and the Interpreter of Scripture).

In the radical individualistic approach, at the very least, the second kind of judge is completely removed from the picture.

As for Calvin, I've read Institutes 4.9, and he clearly reserves the right to object or toss out anything he thinks doesn't conform to (his interpretation) of Scripture. I've also read where he went line by line on the Council of Trent (especially on Justification) and single-handedly rejected anything he didn't agree with.

And you reserve the right to object or toss out anything you think doesn't conform to your interpretation of the Magisterium's official documents—Tradition.

This isn't unique to Protestantism, and it isn't unique to those outside of Catholicism. You are inconsistently applying the simple fact of life that all people are ultimately free to disregard whatever anyone says. If it's a problem for Protestantism, it's a problem for Catholicism.

I'd also add that your picture of Calvin doesn't square with what I've already quoted from him in the previous thread and what he wrote on the authority of the church elsewhere (cf. Institutes, IV.x.18). Consider also what I've quoted from him in this thread.

Nick writes elsewhere:

The *catch* is that the (pretend) Reformers' actions paved the way for radical individualism since in principle each layman could fall back on their own interpretation of Scripture, just as Luther and Calvin did when they disagreed with someone else.

This eventually led to watering down the Christian Gospel as a whole, and where the radical individualism really began to show - and eventually became so common that most Protestants see it as "normal" in Christianity.

In the sense you're using the concept, it seems everyone could "fall back on" whatever interpretation of Scripture they hold. I don't see how you connect that with the Reformers in a meaningful fashion; it's not as if people didn't engage in this kind of behavior before the Reformation.

A Deliberate Fiction

From Alister McGrath's The Genesis of Doctrine: A Study in the Foundation of Doctrinal Criticism:

Although it is often suggested that the reformers had no place for tradition in their theological deliberations, this judgment is clearly incorrect. While the notion of tradition as an extra-scriptural source of revelation is excluded, the classic concept of tradition as a particular way of reading and interpreting scripture is retained. Scripture, tradition and the kerygma are regarded as essentially coinherent, and as being transmitted, propagated and safeguarded by the community of faith. There is thus a strongly communal dimension to the magisterial reformers' understanding of the interpretation of scripture, which is to be interpreted and proclaimed within an ecclesiological matrix. It must be stressed that the suggestion that the Reformation represented the triumph of individualism and the total rejection of tradition is a deliberate fiction propagated by the image-makers of the Enlightenment.

McGrath makes a number of interesting remarks surrounding this passage, including contrasting the position of the Reformers with the radical elements of the Reformation. The above quotation and the surrounding remarks (as well as citation information) can be viewed here.

Consider in particular the nuanced approach McGrath takes to analyzing the issue of the "authority of the past" beginning on page 103. Compare this with the trite methodology many lay-Catholic apologists bring to their critiques of the Reformation.

Rank Individualism and Sola Scriptura

Abstract

It is often asserted that sola Scriptura devolves into rank individualism. Once the right to judge Church tradition by Scripture is given to individuals, rampant doctrinal confusion is the inevitable result. This criticism, however, is often based on a fallacious conflation of a post-Enlightenment individualism imbued in some modern Evangelicals and the doctrine of the Magisterial Reformers and their intellectual successors. Credible attempts to critique the doctrine of sola Scriptura must first aim to properly represent it.

(This post contains some extended quotations. For those with limited time, I have done my best to highlight their essential content through bolding.)

Asserting the Fallibility of Councils Produces a Regular Objection

Anticipating the Reformed approach to church councils, Calvin argues in the Institutes that councils are not infallible (and, therefore, to be judged by the higher standard of Scripture). Calvin summarizes his position as follows:

Wherefore, we cannot on any account admit that the Church consists in a meeting of pastors [at a council], as to whom the Lord has nowhere promised that they would always be good, but has sometimes foretold that they would be wicked. When he warns us of danger, it is to make us use greater caution.¹

I suspect, however, that the articulation of this position in other contexts had produced a regular objection from Catholics—that this kind of judgment reduces to rank individualism. Perhaps that is why Calvin immediately proceeds to write (bold mine):

What, then, you will say, is there no authority in the definitions of councils? Yes, indeed; for I do not contend that all councils are to be condemned, and all their acts rescinded, or, as it is said, made one complete erasure. But you are bringing them all (it will be said) under subordination, and so leaving every one at liberty to receive or reject the decrees of councils as he pleases. By no means; but whenever the decree of a council is produced, the first thing I would wish to be done is, to examine at what time it was held, on what occasion, with what intention, and who were present at it; next I would bring the subject discussed to the standard of Scripture. And this I would do in such a way that the decision of the council should have its weight, and be regarded in the light of a prior judgment, yet not so as to prevent the application of test which I have mentioned. I wish all had observed the method which Augustine prescribes in his Third Book against Maximinus, when he wished to silence the cavils of this heretic against the decrees of councils, "I ought not to oppose the Council of Nice to you, nor ought you to oppose that of Ariminum to me, as prejudging the question. I am not bound by the authority of the latter, nor you by that of the former. Let thing contend with thing, cause with cause, reason with reason, on the authority of Scripture, an authority not peculiar to either, but common to all." In this way, councils would be duly respected, and yet the highest place would be given to Scripture, everything being brought to it as a test. Thus those ancient Councils of Nice, Constantinople, the first of Ephesus, Chalcedon, and the like, which were held for refuting errors, we willingly embrace, and reverence as sacred, in so far as relates to doctrines of faith, for they contain nothing but the pure and genuine interpretation of Scripture, which the holy Fathers with spiritual prudence adopted to crush the enemies of religion who had then arisen. In some later councils, also, we see displayed a true zeal for religion, and moreover unequivocal marks of genius, learning, and prudence. But as matters usually become worse and worse, it is easy to see in more modern councils how much the Church gradually degenerated from the purity of that golden age.²

The Charge of Individualism Today

The substance of the objection Calvin addressed has not changed since the Reformation; only its form has been altered. Take two modern examples by Catholic apologists who assert that the right to judge the merits of tradition through Scriptural interpretation (which is the broader issue through which councils act as a particular lens) reduces to rank individualism (bolding mine):

The most scandalous fruit of Luther's linear lie has been the ballooning of over thirty-three thousand different Protestant denominations, as the due result of private interpretations apart from the true teachings of the Magisterium. The reason why there are over three-three [sic] thousand different denominations is because definitive and authoritative truths cannot be known through sola-scriptura.

The first fruit of sola-scriptura is not denominations or division, but is actually Christian relativism. Because sola-scriptura empowers its adherents to discover the truth according to their own light, the truth of sacred Scripture remains elusive to them and it proves to be the gateway to Christian secularism and the rejection of the authority of sacred Scripture all together. This is not hyperbolic rhetoric; the proof is [sic] these statements are all around us.

...

It is an odd thing indeed to suggest that a Christian can be guilty of being a relativist or an individualist, but such is the case in the Protestant religion, which is the seed of the so-called 'age of enlightenment'...it is their praxis [i.e. the natural outworking of their theological position, as opposed to their stated position] of sola-scriptura that Protestants hold that the definitive truth of God is unknowable.

...

In individualism, the human person exists as an isolated individual who has himself as his own moral arbiter and who enters into relationship with others only if he so chooses. Sola-scriptura inevitably leads to Individualism because through Scripture-alone each Christian can arrive at his or her own interpretation of the truth, relative to themselves. Sola-scriptura does not require a prayerful community effort.³

And:

Sadly, for the last 2,000 years, many have followed that tragic course of ignoring the teaching authority of the Church. Notice also that Christ shows the Church as being the court of final appeal, the last resort, the place whence the final decision on an issue would emanate. This clearly shows that the Church was established with a teaching authority that supersedes that of the individual. And Christ did not arrange things in such a way to hinder or "straightjacket" the individual believer, but to protect him from the dangers of heresy, disunity, and sin. By establishing the Church's Magisterium as the "court of final appeal" on doctrinal issues, and endowing the Magisterium with his own authority to preach and teach in his name (cf. Luke 10:16), believers are safeguarded from the theological and moral vagaries that arise when the principle of "private interpretation" of Scripture and Tradition (i.e., when dissociated from Church teaching) are put into play.⁴

A Respect for Councils and a Community-Oriented Approach to Doctrinal Truth

As with a number of Catholic objections to Protestantism, these only seem applicable to those Protestants who reject all tradition and/or hold to the post-Enlightenment value of the supreme autonomy of the individual to determine his own beliefs and identity. But that isn't what Calvin promoted, and neither is it what the modern children of the Reformation promote; these kinds of arguments fail to address the positions put forward by the confessional Protestantism born out of the Magisterial Reformation. Consider how irreconcilable these criticisms are with the following perspectives:

A. Here is another excerpt from Calvin:

Having proved that no power was given to the Church to set up any new doctrine, let us now treat of the power attributed to them in the interpretation of Scripture. We readily admit, that when any doctrine is brought under discussion, there is not a better or surer remedy than for a council of true bishops to meet and discuss the controverted point. There will be much more weight in a decision of this kind, to which the pastors of churches have agreed in common after invoking the Spirit of Christ, than if each, adopting it for himself, should deliver it to his people, or a few individuals should meet in private and decide.⁵

B. I've previously discussed how Berkhof describes Scriptural interpretation as a community-oriented task. I'd like to add the following with respect to the validity of councils:

The Roman Catholic Church ascribes to its dogmas absolute authority, not only because they are revealed truths, but even more particularly because they are infallibly apprehended and proposed by the Church for the belief of the faithful...

The Churches of the Reformation broke with this view. While they maintain that a doctrine does not become a dogma, and does not acquire ecclesiastical authority, until it is officially defined and accepted by the Church, they ascribe authority to it only because, and in so far as, it is founded on the Word of God. Their view of the matter can perhaps be best stated as follows. Materially (that is, as to contents) dogmas derive their authority exclusively from the infallible Word of God, but formally (as to form) they derive it from the Church...Church proclamation is an approximation to the original revelation, and not a perfect reproduction of it; but in so far as it does agree with it and is therefore really God speaking to sinners in the present, it is clothed with divine authority. The dogmas so conceived should be distinguished from the dogmas (plural), in which it is not God who speaks, but the Church, and which for that reason have only relative authority.⁶

C. Consider Whitaker's remarks:

We do not say that each individual should acquiesce in that interpretation which his own private spirit frames and dictates to him; for this would be to open a door to fanatical tempers and spirits: but we say that that Spirit should be the judge, who speaks openly and expressly in the scriptures, and whom all may hear; by him we desire that all other spirits, that is, all doctrines, (for so the word is to be taken in this place,) should be examined. We recognise no public judge save scripture, and the Spirit teaching us in scripture: yet this man speaks as if we made the spirit within the judge of others; which should never be done. For we are not so mad or foolish as to deal thus: You ought to acquiesce in this doctrine, because my spirit judges it to be true; but we say, You should receive this doctrine because the Holy Spirit in the scriptures hath taught us thus to think and to believe...For we allow that it is a highly convenient way of finding the true sense of scripture, for devout and learned men to assemble, examine the cause diligently, and investigate the truth; yet with this proviso, that they govern their decision wholly by the scriptures. Such a proceeding we, for our parts, have long wished for; for it is attended with a twofold advantage: first, that what is sought by many is found the more readily; second, that errors, and heretics the patrons of errors, are the more easily repressed, when they are condemned by the common consent and judgment of a great number.⁷

D. Consider the WCF as well:

For the better government, and further edification of the Church, there ought to be such assemblies as are commonly called synods or councils.

As magistrates may lawfully call a synod of ministers, and other fit persons, to consult and advise with, about matters of religion; so, if magistrates be open enemies to the Church, the ministers of Christ, of themselves, by virtue of their office, or they, with other fit persons upon delegation from their Churches, may meet together in such assemblies.

It belongs to synods and councils, ministerially to determine controversies of faith, and cases of conscience; to set down rules and directions for the better ordering of the public worship of God, and government of his Church; to receive complaints in cases of maladministration, and authoritatively to determine the same; which decrees and determinations, if consonant to the Word of God, are to be received with reverence and submission; not only for their agreement with the Word, but also for the power whereby they are made, as being an ordinance of God appointed thereunto in His Word.⁸

E. And, finally, Mathison:

Instead of being defined as the sole infallible authority, the Bible is said to be the “sole basis of authority” Tradition is not allowed in any sense; the ecumenical creeds are virtually dismissed; and the Church is denied any real authority. On the surface it would seem that this modern Evangelical doctrine would have nothing in common with the Roman Catholic or Eastern Orthodox doctrines of authority. But despite the very real differences, the modern Evangelical position shares one major flaw with both the Roman Catholic and the Eastern Orthodox positions. Each results in autonomy. Each results in final authority being placed somewhere other than God and His Word. Unlike the Roman Catholic position and the Eastern Orthodox position, however, which invariably result in the autonomy of the Church, the modern Evangelical position inevitably results in the autonomy of the individual believer.

...

The Bible nowhere gives any hint of wanting every individual believer to decide for himself and by himself what is and is not the true meaning of Scripture. The classical Reformed doctrine of sola scriptura meant that Scripture is the sole final and infallible authority. It does not mean that the lone individual is the one to determine what that Scripture means. Scripture was given to the Church within a certain pre-existing doctrinal context that had been preached by the Apostles for decades. Solo scriptura denies the necessity of that context, and it denies the necessity of that Church. In doing so it denies Christ who established that Church and who taught that doctrine to His disciples. It is rebellion in the name of God against the authority of God for the sake of preserving the authority of man.⁹

Considerations

When Roman Catholic apologists produce this dichotomy between rank individualism and the authority of the Magisterium, they assert a false dilemma. Reformed Protestants do not promote the authority of the individual to decide matters of doctrine in the same manner secular society promotes individualism. Rather, they stake out a position in which the Church still has real and functional authority. Subordinating the Church to Scripture is not the same as subordinating the Church to rank individualism, and rejecting the Roman Catholic view of authority does not entail a rejection of all authority outside of the individual.

Perhaps a detailed argument could be made that even the more sophisticated and nuanced version of sola Scriptura entails radical individualism. But I'm not aware of what a successful version of that argument would look like.

And, of course, even if there are proposed arguments like this, the critical problem is how little sola Scriptura is properly engaged in published literature or distinguished between the approach used by some radically individualistic Evangelical Protestants.¹⁰ This is neither honest nor intelligent, and deserves to be dismissed for what it is.

____________

1. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, IV.9.7. Supporting arguments are developed (rather well) in the previous sections of the chapter.

2. Ibid., IV.9.8.

3. David, L. Gray, Dead on Arrival: The Seven Fatal Errors of Sola-Scriptura, Vol. I, (Xenia, Ohio: Erehmai Uoyevoli, 2010), 75-77.

4. Patrick Madrid, Where is That In the Bible? (Huntington, IN: Our Sunday Visitor, 2001), 20-21.

5. Calvin, Institutes, IV.9.13

6. Louis Berkhof, Systematic Theology, New Combined Edition (Cambridge, UK: Eerdmans, 1996), 25.

7. William Whitaker, Disputations on Holy Scripture (Cambridge: Parker Society, 1894; reprint, Orlando: Soli Deo Gloria Publications, 2005), 433-434.

8. Westminster Confession of Faith, XXXI/i-iii.

9. Keith Mathison, "A Critique of the Evangelical Doctrine of Solo Scriptura." http://www.the-highway.com/Sola_Scriptura_Mathison.html (accessed 8/13/10).

10. I haven't kept up with all of the most recent literature, so it's possible the polemical landscape has changed in recent years to reflect a more nuanced approach to sola Scriptura. My experience in both reading Roman Catholic literature and engaging the fruits of the teachings of popular Catholic apologetic ministries and resources (via discussions on blogs, online boards, in person, etc.) strongly suggests otherwise. However, it is an area in which I hope my conclusions turn out to be false; it would be much better to have a proper representation of sola Scriptura in discussions of the subject.

Calvin on Radical Individualism

Contrary to a modern mindset of some Evangelical Protestants, who change churches as one would change outfits to fit the caprice of fashion and weather, Calvin approached the issue of church fellowship with decidedly more caution:

Be this as it may, when the preaching of the gospel is reverently heard, and the sacraments are not neglected, there for the time the face of the Church appears without deception or ambiguity; and no man may with impunity spurn her authority, or reject her admonitions, or resist her counsels, or make sport of her censures, far less revolt from her, and violate her unity, (see Chap. 2 sec. 1, 10, and Chap. 3. sec. 12.) For such is the value which the Lord sets on the communion of his Church, that all who contumaciously alienate themselves from any Christian society, in which the true ministry of his word and sacraments is maintained, he regards as deserters of religion. So highly does he recommend her authority, that when it is violated he considers that his own authority is impaired.

...

I admit, that it is a great disgrace if dogs and swine are admitted among the children of God; much more, if the sacred body of Christ is prostituted to them. And, indeed, when churches are well regulated, they will not bear the wicked in their bosom, nor will they admit the worthy and unworthy indiscriminately to that sacred feast. But because pastors are not always sedulously vigilant, are sometimes also more indulgent than they ought, or are prevented from acting so strictly as they could wish; the consequence is, that even the openly wicked are not always excluded from the fellowship of the saints. This I admit to be a vice, and I have no wish to extenuate it, seeing that Paul sharply rebukes it in the Corinthians. But although the Church fail in her duty, it does not therefore follow that every private individual is to decide the question of separation for himself. I deny not that it is the duty of a pious man to withdraw from all private intercourse with the wicked, and not entangle himself with them by any voluntary tie; but it is one thing to shun the society of the wicked, and another to renounce the communion of the Church through hatred of them. (Institutes, IV.i.10, 15)

The Late Development of the Bishop of Rome

John Bugay has posted on Hermas and the structure of the early Roman church before. I don't have anything original to add to that discussion.

However, I'd like to provide some corroboration by Roman Catholic scholars Raymond Brown and John Meier, whose book received both the Nihil Obstat and the Imprimatur (bold mine):

There is no doubt that it [The Shepherd of Hermas] was written at Rome (Vis. 1.1.1.; 2.1.1; 4.1.2); and the suggestion that Clement would send it abroad (Vis. 2.4.3) may mean that Hermas' revelations had church status in Rome...[characterizing the letter] Bernard ("Shepherd" 34-35) may be closer to the mark: "Thus I Clement, like Hermas, is a Christian work which leans heavily on late-Jewish and early Jewish-Christian tradition and apologetics, and this raises the question as to the composition of the Roman Church in the late first and early second centuries. There would appear to be grounds for thinking that the influence of the Jewish-Christian element in the Church remained strong into the second century." I would rephrase slightly, for I think of Rome as containing a dominant Jewish/Gentile Christianity that had strong loyalties to Jerusalem and the Jewish tradition. The author of Hermas may have been ethnically a pure Gentile, but he would be representative of that continuing strain of Christianity. The indication that there was still a church structure of presbyter-bishops and deacons⁴³³ indicates how conservative the Roman church was.¹

The footnote (#433) referenced above reads (bold mine):

433. See p. 163 above. All the references to presbyters and bishops are in the sections that some would judge chronologically early. However, if the men sitting on the bench in Man. 11.1 are presbyters, then the structure of presbyter-bishops lasted into the 140s. Telfer, Office 61, however, thinks it unquestionable that by the time Hermas was finished there was a single-bishop at Rome.²

Page 163 (and the previous page) reveals the following discussion (bold mine):

An older generation of Roman Catholic scholars assumed that the single-bishop practice was already in place in Rome in the 90s or earlier; and they opined that, as fourth pope (third from Peter), Clement was exercising the primacy of the bishop of Rome in giving directions to the church of Corinth. The failure of Clement to use his own name or speak personally should have called that theory into question from the start, were there not other decisive evidence against it. As the ecumenical book Peter in the New Testament (done by Roman Catholics and Protestants together) affirmed, the connection between a Petrine function in the first century and a fully developed Roman papacy required several centuries of development, so that it is anachronistic to think of the early Roman church leaders functioning as later popes (see footnote 275 above). Moreover, the Roman episcopal list shows confusion...All of this can be explained if we recognize that the threefold order of single-bishop, with subordinate presbyters and deacons, was not in place at Rome at the end of the first century; rather the twofold order of presbyter-bishops and deacons, attested a decade before in I Peter 5:1-5, was still operative. Indeed, the signal failure of Ignatius (ca. 110) to mention the single-bishop in his letter to the Romans (a very prominent theme in his other letters) and the usage of Hermas, which speaks of plural presbyters (Vis. 2.4.2) and bishops (Sim. 9.27.2), make it likely that the single-bishop structure did not come to Rome till ca. 140-150.³

Some observations:

1. This work received both the Nihil Obstat and the Imprimatur. It therefore carries more general weight than those whose only qualifications as Catholic apologists are a keyboard and an internet connection.

2. Brown and Meier are established Catholic scholars. They therefore carry more weight than otherwise unknown lay-Catholic apologists on the subject.

3. Brown and Meier state their position in direct contrast to previous generations of Roman Catholic scholars. Even on something as important as the nature of the church government of Rome, with particular application to the power and authority of the bishop(s) there, Catholic scholarship has not been consistent. This observation plays into a variety of problems with Roman Catholicism, some of which are fairly obvious.

4. There are lay-Catholic apologists who object to the term "Roman Catholic." This, however, is how Brown and Meier both refer to themselves and previous generations of scholars within their own denomination. If it's acceptable for Brown and Meier, and morally consistent with Catholicism proper (via the Nihil Obstat and Imprimatur), it should be acceptable to lay-Catholic internet apologists.

____________

1. Antioch and Rome: New Testament Cradles of Catholic Christianity (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1983, 2004), 203-204.

2. Ibid., 204.

3. Ibid., 162-163.

Where was the Church during the Middle Ages?

Here's a different, non- Euro-centric approach to a common Roman Catholic historical objection to Protestantism¹:

The result is that when someone asks, "Where was the evangelical church of Christ during those long 'Dark Ages' of Europe when the Church of Rome usurped the place of the Holy Spirit?" there usually follows a notable silence. The Iona colony of Scotland may be mentioned, or the later Waldenses of the Italian Apls, both involving small numbers. There is a better answer to the question, however, and the following narrative seeks to shed some light on it.

The story of the Church of the East's mission to Asia is one that needs to be told to today's church. It is the story of a dedicated missionary effort and the ever expanding witness of Christians from Antioch to Peking, nearly 6,000 miles by foot, until multitudes of Christians lived from the 30th to the 120th longitude in medieval times.

...

Here also is evidence that pitfalls to the church's mission always exist. Common examples are such things as an inadequate appreciation of the spiritual deadness of the natural man, failure to recognize the necessity of heart repentance and the meaning of baptism, the temptation to consider external acts of piety as necessarily representing inner holiness, the acceptance of liturgy and form in the place of justification by faith alone and identification with Christ, compromise with the world's secularism and other people's religious practices, sacramentalism, over-identification with a particular political regime, and concern with the elite that leads to failure to reach out to the common people.

...

The lesson of the gospel in the Near and Far East during the Middle Ages is that such failures as are referred to above can cause Christian communities where churches once flourished to disappear so completely that later generations not only do not know what the gospel is but are not even aware that it was ever present in their midst. In those cases the only witness to the living may be the testimony of the dead, written on tombstones. An illustration of such a voice out of the past is that of a ninth century Christian in a central Asian cemetery, where the gentle words still whisper, "This is the grave of Pasak -- The aim of life is Jesus, our Redeemer."²

As someone who is half Chinese, I appreciate the non-Western focus. Obviously the application of this work to specifically Reformed history is limited, so I don't plan on posting about it to a great extent. However, it does provide an additional answer (or two, really) to the question of historical continuity and a nice antidote to the Rome-centered history of Catholicism, and so to that end I'll relate interesting information contained therein (if any) as I proceed through the text.

________________

1. The following picture is Robert MacGregor's restoration of a silk painting found in 1908, in a cave sealed in 1036. It depicts a missionary bishop of the Church of the East.

2. John M. L. Young, By Foot to China: Mission of The Church of the East, To 1400 (Lookout Mountain, GA: Grey Pilgrim Publications, 1991), i-ii. This text may be found online for free.

Florovsky on Augustine Moved by the Authority of the Catholic Church

"For my part, I should not believe the gospel except as moved by the authority of the Catholic Church."¹

Many readers of this blog both recognize this quotation from Augustine and know how it is often used to claim that the influential church father held to ecclesiastical beliefs similar to modern Roman Catholicism. This latter assertion has been refuted in a variety of contexts (including three contexts discussed here at this blog), so I have no intention of covering old ground. What I would like to do is provide corroboration from Eastern Orthodox scholar Georges Florovsky (emphasis original):

The phrase must be read in its context. First of all, St. Augustine did not utter this sentence on his own behalf. He spoke of the attitude which a simple believer had to take, when confronted with the heretical claim for authority. In this situation it was proper for a simple believer to appeal to the authority of the Church, from which, and in which, he had received the Gospel itself: ipsi Evangelio catholicis praedicantibus credidi. [I believed the Gospel itself, being instructed by catholic preachers]. The Gospel and the preaching of the Catholica belong together. St. Augustine had no intention "to subordinate" the Gospel to the Church. He only wanted to emphasize that "Gospel" is actually received always in the context of Church's catholic preaching and simply cannot be separated from the Church. Only in this context it can be assessed and properly understood. Indeed, the witness of the Scripture is ultimately "self-evident," but only for the "faithful," for those who have achieved a certain "spiritual" maturity, — and this is only possible within the Church. He opposed this teaching and preaching auctoritas of the Church Catholic to the pretentious vagaries of Manichean exegesis. The Gospel did not belong to the Manicheans. Catholicae Ecclesiae auctoritas [the authority of the Catholic Church] was not an independent source of faith. But it was the indispensable principle of sound interpretation. Actually, the sentence could be converted: one should not believe the Church, unless one was moved by the Gospel. The relationship is strictly reciprocal.²

(Public comments are closed. Private comments may be sent via e-mail. The address is located on my blogger profile.)

_____________________________

1. Against the Epistle of Manichaeus, ch 5.

2. Fr. Georges Florovsky, Bible, Church, Tradition: An Eastern Orthodox View (Buchervertriebsanstalt, 1987). This excerpt may also be found online.

The Divine Nature of Scripture and the Magisterium

Whitaker comes to the defense of four arguments from Calvin, which Stapleton attempts to refute, the first of which is (in the words of Calvin, not the summary Whitaker provides) as follows (emphasis mine):

A most pernicious error has very generally prevailed; viz.,that Scripture is of importance only in so far as conceded to it by the suffrage of the Church; as if the eternal and inviolable truth of God could depend on the will of men. With great insult to the Holy Spirit, it is asked, who can assure us that the Scriptures proceeded from God; who guarantee that they have come down safe and unimpaired to our times; who persuade us that this book is to be received with reverence, and that one expunged from the list, did not the Church regulate all these things with certainty? On the determination of the Church, therefore, it is said, depend both the reverence which is due to Scripture, and the books which are to be admitted into the canon. Thus profane men, seeking, under the pretext of the Church, to introduce unbridled tyranny, care not in what absurdities they entangle themselves and others, provided they extort from the simple this one acknowledgement, viz., that there is nothing which the Church cannot do. But what is to become of miserable consciences in quest of some solid assurance of eternal life, if all the promises with regard to it have no better support than man's judgement? On being told so, will they cease to doubt and tremble? On the other hand, to what jeers of the wicked is our faith subjected - into how great suspicion is it brought with all, if believed to have only a precarious authority lent to it by the goodwill of men?¹

Yet what is Stapleton's reply? He claims that the Magisterium's judgment is not merely human, but really is both divine and infallible, therefore Calvin's argument fails to be of relevance.

Here Whitaker raises a point I would raise as well, one that is equally relevant today: "But what is the meaning of this assertion, that the church's judgment is not merely human? Be it so. But is it merely divine? For surely it is requisite that the truth of the promises of eternal life should be propped and supported by a testimony purely divine."²

What, exactly, is meant by saying that the nature by which the Magisterium has come to identify the canon for us is not just human opinion, but is divine and infallible, yet not totally divine and infallible? Scripture, we would say, has been inspired by God in a completely and totally divine manner, therefore it is binding and authoritative. The Holy Spirit superintended the writing of the Scriptures such that in no way did any of it originate or arise through human wisdom, creation, thought or contribution (even if human means--learning, intelligence, writing ability, etc.--were still used). It is completely and totally the intentions, thoughts, words, etc. of God toward humanity, therefore we should respect it as if God himself were speaking directly and presently to us.

But does the Magisterium, in its judgment that Scripture is really the Word of God, claim to be inspired, superintended, etc. by the same process as that which the Holy Spirit used to write inspired Scripture? I don't see how that's the case. Consider CCC #66 where the revealing of revelation proper is considered to have ended in the Apostolic era:

The Christian economy, therefore, since it is the new and definitive Covenant, will never pass away; and no new public revelation is to be expected before the glorious manifestation of our Lord Jesus Christ.

And since the infallible identification of the canon within Roman Catholicism first occurred at Trent, it cannot be said that this proclamation was purely divine. And if it is not purely divine, why is it ultimately binding?

Only the thoughts of God are infallible. These can be expressed through various means (the burning bush, dreams, written Scripture, etc.), yet all are categorized as revelation. If Roman Catholicism denies that the Magisterium has received additional revelation by which to identify the canon for believers, it is difficult to see how the pronouncements of Trent would be authoritatively binding in any real sense. Where in Scripture are the words of the uninspired ever held to the same authoritative standard as those who said or wrote inspired material? For Scripture there are two categories: inspired and uninspired. By placing itself in the latter camp, the Magisterium has denied itself access to binding, infallible authority.

But, returning to the line of argumentation provided by Whitaker, let us suppose it is divinely inspired in the same manner Scripture is divinely inspired. If it is divine, then it carries the same nature and authority as Scripture. But if that is the case, why do we need the former to know the latter? Cannot the divine nature of Scripture speak to us directly, just as the divine nature of the pronouncements of the Magisterium speaks to us directly? What is preventing us from accessing the authoritative of Words of God in Scripture directly?

_____________________________


1. Henry Beveridge, trans., Institutes of the Christian Religion, I.7.1.

2. William Whitaker, Disputations on Holy Scripture (Cambridge: Parker Society, 1894; reprint, Orlando: Soli Deo Gloria Publications, 2005), 340.

To be Deep In Medieval History is to Remain Protestant

"C.S. Lewis once quipped that the more medieval he became in his outlook, the farther from Roman Catholicism he seemed to grow." Douglas M. Jones III, Foreword to Keith Mathison's The Shape of Sola Scriptura (Moscow, ID: Canon Press), 11.

"What I meant was that if I replied to your original question (why I am not a member of the Roman Church) I shd. have to write a v. long letter." C.S. Lewis, Letter to Sister Mary Rose, January 1950, The Collected Letters of C.S. Lewis, Volume 3: Narnia, Cambridge, and Joy, 1950 - 1963, Ed. Walter Hooper, (New York: HarperCollins, 2007), 8.

"The question for me (naturally) is not 'Why should I not be a Roman Catholic?' but 'Why should I?' But I don't like discussing such matters, because it emphasises differences and endangers charity. By the time I had really explained my objection to certain doctrines which differentiate you from us (and also in my opinion from the Apostolic and even the Medieval Church), you would like me less." Letter to Mrs. Halmbacher, March 1951, Ibid., 106.

"It is a little difficult to explain how I feel that tho' you have taken a way [conversion to Roman Catholicism from Anglicanism] which is not for me I nevertheless congratulate you..." Letter to Mary Willis Shelburne, November 10, 1952, Ibid., 248-249.

Michael Edwards, commenting on a reply to a letter he received from Lewis on November 2, 1959, states:

"This was in response to a request for a personal meeting to help me sort out two different problem areas, (1) which Christian denomination I should settle on...I never felt happy as an Evangelical. I was seriously considering becoming a Roman Catholic...I was vexed about the problem of papal infallibility and Lewis recommended I should read "The Infallibility of the Church" [1888] by [George] Salmon. This in fact did hep me settle the question." Ibid., 1133.

Closing Comments

I've decided to close comments on more (but not all) of my posts. I do not have the desire to wade through the usual exchanges that pile up on these threads and attempt moderation. This merely results in charges of inconsistency from various quarters, and it would take too much time to effectively carry out in any case.

I'm also not interested in babysitting comment boxes when people who have been banned from the blog swing by for another personal snipe or gratuitous assertion. Closing comments will save me from cleaning up after the immaturity of certain individuals.

If you'd like to make a (reasonable) comment on one of the posts I make and the comments section happens to be closed, simply send me an e-mail. The address is located on my blogger profile. If it merits thorough attention, I might start another post and open comments for some discussion.

This policy, of course, only applies to the material I post. The other contributors at Beggars All will continue as they see fit.