The Church, Our Mother

Two ladies came to my door last night. I thought they were from the local Kingdom Hall, but as it turned out they were Baptists. They were very nice women and asked if they could send a bus to pick up my children for VBS at the end of June. They wanted names and ages, wanted the legion of children peeking out at them from behind and beside me registered then and there. I had some questions because of my wife's still being in school (extended year, long story) and hemmed and hawed my way out of Registration Now. I was given a flyer with a number to call if I decided to have the kids picked up.

We are not here to quibble over whether I am yellow. I am. So I did not say that I was not interested because I was Catholic. They simply would not have understood. They would not understand how they, with purest intentions, would try to steal God's graces from my children by trying to steal them from his Church.

There are some people, of course, who are Protestant and I would have few problems with them teaching my children about the Scriptures, about Jesus. They know us and, while they do not really understand our being Catholic and do not feel similarly, they respect that we are Catholic. They respect that we do love Christ and that we are in Christ. They understand that much and that much is enough. We know and trust them.

Strangers certainly do not have that relationship, however, and my children become little more than wheat-white-unto-harvest to them. Because they love them? Yes. Because Catholics and Protestants end up speaking past each other, as if speaking different languages? Certainly.

I am not disparaging Protestants here. Let us be honest with one another without having our feelings hurt: If you are a Protestant, you would not send your children to a Catholic VBS either. (Yes, we have them.) Just as you are for your children, I am responsible for the spiritual upbringing of mine. I brought them into the Catholic Church. And I intend to raise them in the Church and keep them in the Church. They may someday leave her. I pray that they do not, but someday they may. But that will then be their decision. Now, as children, they are unable to process or handle the differences between the Catholic Church and Protestant denominations. Now they only understand whether someone loves Jesus.

And some of you may well be wishing we were all like children in this respect, but that, unfortunately, is not our reality. We have real differences. We believe differently. And we must be willing to speak of our differences in order that we may be united with one another. As I said in the comment box for my post on C.S. Lewis's Mere Christianity, "Knowing Jack," we cannot be faithful or deep Christians by all of us crowding into the hallway in between the separate rooms. Real ecumenism is not in the part, but in the whole - and it can only take place in one of the rooms.

I believe in one holy catholic and apostolic Church. She is visible; not invisible. She must be: If the Church is invisible, then she is also indivisible, which renders our visible unity and Christ's prayer in John 17 meaningless, entirely useless.

But I'm getting off track. My children are saved; they're being saved - I do not need things muddled for them by someone asking them to be part of the Kingdom of which they already belong. I do not need them wondering about whether they prayed a prayer or whether they meant it. We pray. We love. We worship. We live and move and breathe in him. We have friendship with Christ because he has poured out his grace upon us.

I am not against evangelization, by any means, or against the spirit which motivates these good Baptist women to put feet on their faith and knock on my door. But if you wish to evangelize my children, teach them the Scriptures. Make them better Catholics. They do not need to be saved from the Church, but through her.

Today, Two Prayers

Yesterday, many Christians remembered with contrition the decision reached in the case of Roe v. Wade. Our country has perpetrated a great evil in the last 34 years. And we, like Daniel, are in some sense complicit in the sin of our country. We pray for the mercy of God.

It is imperative that we continue to work for a right respect for life - from conception to natural death. It is imperative that we continue to pray about this issue and the lives being wounded and destroyed by it. It is imperative that we love and pray for those who commit or encourage this evil. Many act in ignorance. But regardless of their understanding of what they do, we must love and pray for them.

Our consciences can be poor guides if they are not formed rightly. For those of us who are Catholic, that means conforming our lives to the teaching of the Church on these moral issues. We do not have the authority to make contrary decisions, any more than, after receiving the Decalogue, the Israelites had the choice whether to commit adultery or covet their neighbors' possessions or murder. That is not to say we are not free to choose otherwise. But it remains sin and breaks our relationship with Christ and His body, the Church.

And, remember, for all of us who sin - the Church longs for us to turn to Christ in repentance. We are all in need of the mercy of God. And, thanks be to God, God cleanses us from all our sin and provides for us pardon and peace.

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Build us together in Christ,
Make us your dwelling place.

This week is a time set aside by the Catholic Church to specifically pray for Christian unity.

Unity is an issue that weighs heavily on my heart. Not that I am discouraged by the prospect of Christian unity, but rather that it is painful to live in the division between brothers and sisters. (And I offer up that pain as an oblation to God.) We are one body. Indeed, we are Christ's body. We are Christ.

Is Christ divided?

+ God, through your coming to us in Jesus and through using fallible people, you have shown yourself to be a vulnerable God; we thank you that you still trust us to offer service and work for the building of your kingdom. Keep us alert to your will and purpose and open our eyes that we may see the true needs of people around us. Enable us in humility to learn from one another, that we may be united in our mutual accountability and devoted in service for your kingdom; through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.

from the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity, 2005

The Communion of the Saints

I am tired of talking theology.

I speak with people who come from different traditions than my own faith tradition and it always seems as if there is no bridge where there ought to be bridges. It seems that many of us who love theology are more concerned with being right than righteous. And I am one of them (though less astute than most), making others feel as if they and their beliefs are somehow wanting.

I don't mean to. And I apologize for doing so. I try to walk the road of "Here is what engages and delights me about Catholicism" and I end up sliding a dusty toe onto the shoulder of "I know better than you."

It is not right.

I believe great things about Orthodoxy and Protestantism. I have been blessed by Protestantism, more than you can imagine. Since becoming Catholic, the Orthodox church has done little other than instruct me. But, Ah! I am Catholic.

Perhaps in conversion there is a natural tendency to be more critical of your former place than is reasonable. I don't know. But I do know that I have to wrestle with my pride as a Catholic as much as I did as a Protestant. I know that I still desperately need God's mercy. I know I am still desperate for Him.

And to those of you who will listen: Whatever the price of unity, I am willing to pay it.

So I get out of bed tonight because my soul is uneasy. I lay down a few words in search of rest: (1) Silence is almost always wiser than speaking. (2) The only apologetic is love.

The Question of Unity and the Emerging Conversation

I was attracted to the "emerging conversation" before becoming Catholic because it was, as far as I could see, a way toward unity - among other things - especially those on the conservative side of the broad spectrum known as "emerging." But I have begun to wonder whether unity is a goal of those who consider themselves emerging Christians - and how large of a goal it is.

I would like my own conversation: A push toward the ordination of women and toward a flattening (or elimination altogether) of authority structures within churches is antithetical to unity. Now perhaps you may unite some Protestant denominations. But in the meantime, the majority of the church will be shoved aside by you - the Catholic and the Orthodox traditions.

At the end of the day, regardless of how much the emerging conversation gets "right," it will get unity wrong. It will continue to foster denominational splintering.

Perhaps it sounds as if I am saying your only viable road is Catholicism or Orthodoxy. Trust me, it is not what I am intending to say - though that will and ought to be the road for some. What I am intending to say is that to advocate for these kinds of issues - issues that will not change in the Catholic Church - then you advocate against future unity. Advocating for women priests is a forked road, not a merging one.

(I would like to pause for a moment and remind everyone that I can be a priest in the Catholic Church no more than a woman can be. Though it seems like it to some, these issues are not about power or control, but about truth.)

I know many who consider themselves "emerging." It is not my desire to say, "It's my way or the highway." It is not about my way at all. But I want to remind my brothers and sisters that the law of believers is love. And unity is a fruit of love. However, once a group attempts to restructure, rethink in such a way as to deconstruct what the Church has always taught, then it ceases to strive for unity and begins walking down the path of heterodoxy. (And this same spirit is found within those who call themselves Orthodox and Catholic.)

So I would implore you not to do so. Just as I would implore you not to procure abortions for your pregnant teenagers or bless domineering men or celebrate lust.

Perhaps this post will seem overly abrasive. If it is, it is only because this group of men and women remain my family, in many respects, and seem to me to be a beacon of hope in Protestant Christianity. I think of you the same way still. Your concern for the poor, the oppressed, and the lost is praiseworthy. But if you wish to change things, consider fully what it is you are attempting to change - and please do not burn any bridges. And forgive me my bluntness.

“I pray ... that they may all be one.”

A new article of mine, concerning unity, is up at Tyndale's New Living Translation site. I normally don't point them out to you because most of you know that an article mysteriously appears every week or so like magic. If you want to read, you read. And if you don't want to read, you don't. And that's cool.

But I wanted to point out this article that posted Wednesday because it is a big part of who I am, of where my heart lies.

I know, speak, and listen to people with a diversity of beliefs on a fairly regular basis. We, all of us, love Jesus and have orthodox beliefs about Him. But we are different in many other ways. And we are divided. We do not always see eye to eye. Still, we respect and love one another because each of us is in Christ.

It seems to me this being 'in Christ' should have more bearing on our unity than our polity, how we define justification, or whether we recite the filioque.

I know. It's more complex than that. Even so.

Check out the article.

Chapter 3: A Disagreement

"I own part of these woods. The stone wall that runs not half a mile from here is the border of my property."

"It is all the King's land," says the gardener, "and under the King's rule through the authority He's given to His Ministers and to His Prime Minister."

"I recognize the King's authority, but not the Prime Minister's." I do not know why I am suddenly so offended, or why the bitter argument springs up out of me. But I am enraged.

"Regardless, His authority is the King's," says the gardener. "And, if I may, how can you recognize the King's authority if you do not recognize His Prime Minister's?"

I leave the garden angry. "He is a false Prime Minister," I say under my breath. "He reaches too far."

Why do I accept and even demand hierarchy and authority in every institution but the Church?

There is something in me that rejects human, spiritual authority. "I am Christ's man, and His man alone," I want to say. And that is correct: I serve no King but Jesus. But what if He has established His authority on this Earth in a man, in a council of men, in order to guide His Church? Or, to put it differently, is there another way, given the heart of man, to have His Church be one?

At the very least, can I say that perhaps it is true? If I could say, "Perhaps," then I may be able to approach the question honestly.

Unity is the fruit of charity. And without charity, who can be saved? What does that unity look like? Is it unity within diversity? Is it unity under the recognized authority of the Bishop of Rome? Or is it a completely invisible unity? Is invisible unity even unity? One thing becomes clearer to me as I get older: The gospel demands unity. In Question 3 of N.T. Wright's February 2006 Wrightsaid Q & A, Wright says that the existence and propagation of denominations is "a flagrant disobedience" to the teaching of the New Testament. That statement, if I believe it, demands something of me.

I walk through the woods, and then turn and run back toward the garden. The gardener stands and watches my approach as I crash gracelessly through the forest. He is grinning.

On Schism

There has been some debate about the new Southern Baptist Church (SBC) International Missions Board's (IMB) position on baptism. Eternal security, no speaking in tongues - a less generous position, in my opinion. It all smells like schism to me. Lord willing, it will not end in that for the SBC, but it stinks regardless.

I was re-baptized after college by a church fellowship that, the week preceding my baptism, split over the issue of baptism. I've written about it before here, but it continually strikes me as a sad coincidence.

Nowadays we view schism in the church, at best, as merely regrettable. I believe it's sin. And I believe it's sin for two reasons. (1) Christ called us to be one. When we split, when we divorce ourselves from one another, we are resisting his call upon our lives. We are being disobedient children. (2) Church division allows us to feel better about, more certain of, ourselves. That's right, subconsciously, we love a good schism because, whatever side we choose, we are left feeling that we are in the right. It creates an us-them dichotomy. Schism is proud. It says, "I am better than the one who broke away/stayed because I am more gracious/because I hold more firmly to the truth of the scriptures." But schism is graceless and ends in little truth.

Here are some arguments for schism: apostasy, heresy, differing practices, distinctives, or interpretations. Which of these arguments, if any, are valid for schism, for division within the Body of Christ? Are there other arguments? Can we maintain unity in the midst of our differences? If so, how?