Spe Salvi

Pope Benedict's latest encyclical "Spe Salvi" was released today. Concerning the individualistic notion of salvation he writes:

Against this, drawing upon the vast range of patristic theology, de Lubac was able to demonstrate that salvation has always been considered a "social" reality. Indeed, the Letter to the Hebrews speaks of a "city" (cf. 11:10, 16; 12:22; 13:14) and therefore of communal salvation. Consistently with this view, sin is understood by the Fathers as the destruction of the unity of the human race, as fragmentation and division. Babel, the place where languages were confused, the place of separation, is seen to be an expression of what sin fundamentally is. Hence "redemption" appears as the reestablishment of unity, in which we come together once more in a union that begins to take shape in the world community of believers. (section 14)

See also in sections 16 and 17 what Pope Benedict says about the development of the individualistic notion of salvation.

Then later in the document he writes:

[W]e should recall that no man is an island, entire of itself. Our lives are involved with one another, through innumerable interactions they are linked together. No one lives alone. No one sins alone. No one is saved alone. The lives of others continually spill over into mine: in what I think, say, do and achieve. And conversely, my life spills over into that of others: for better and for worse. (section 48)

(See also how this communal understanding of human persons affects his discussion of purgatory in sections 45-47.)

Lord Jesus, we hope for the true union of all Christians, according to the passion of Your sacred heart. Please bring to us that unity, through your Church. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Rome or Geneva?

At the end of his book titled Justification And The New Perspectives On Paul, Guy Waters writes,

"All expressions of Christianity are on the path to one of two destinations, Rome or Geneva."

A little over a week ago, Rick Philips wrote the following:

"The axiom holds true: one is moving either in the direction of Rome or of Geneva."

Philips' post was prompted by Scott Clark's "The CRE is Not Enough?", where Clark writes:

The problem is that they are in danger of trading one form of magic for another, of trading American revivalist magic&madash;just pray this prayer and whammo x will happen‐ for a mediated magic. There's nothing wrong with Genevan robes (we wear them at OURC) and a high view of the sacraments (the confessional Reformed Churches confess that the Lord's Supper IS the "proper and natural" body and blood of Christ!). There's nothing wrong with Protestant collars (it's white and goes all the way round vs. the Roman collar that has the little tab in front; I'm amazed to see allegedly Reformed ministers going about in Roman, tab collars). Priestcraft, i.e., transubstantiation and priestly absolution ("I absolve you"), however, is just mediated magic versus revivalist immediate magic.

Here's the dilemma for Clark's position. Either nothing happens when Clark consecrates the bread and wine, or he too grants some form of 'magic'. But if he too grants some form of 'magic', then it seems arbitrary to reject priestly absolution as "mediated magic". But if nothing happens when Clark consecrates the bread and wine, then we could "do church" from home, listen to the sermon from home, and eat our own bread and wine from home. We could fulfill the requirement not to forsake the assembling of ourselves together by meeting online. That is where the pure formalism of gnosticism leads, though that is not its final destination.

But what of the Waters/Philips "axiom" that any Christian is heading either toward Geneva or Rome? Perhaps the two destinations are not so far apart. Recent books like A Faith That is Never Alone, Robert Sungenis's Not By Faith Alone and Jimmy Akin's article Justification: By Faith Alone? give reason to believe that with regard to justification, sixteenth century Geneva and Rome were not as far apart as some have suggested. Recognition of that common ground is an ecumenical benefit; it helps us avoid the mistake of assuming that our disagreement is greater than it actually is.

But if people are heading either to Rome or to Geneva, what will they find when they get there? If you go to Rome, you will find the pope. You might not like the pope. You might think he looks silly in his tall pointy hat. You might disagree with him on many theological matters. You might think he has badly misinterpreted the Bible. But you will find him there nonetheless, writing encyclicals, appointing cardinals and ordaining bishops, and generally doing what popes do when governing the Catholic Church around the world. If, however, you go to Geneva, will you find a Calvinist figurehead? A thriving Calvinist church that serves as an example to all Reformed churches around the world? No. The last census (in 2000) showed that Protestants made up only 16 percent of the canton's religious landscape, and that number is steadily dropping. See here. Of that number, only a much smaller percentage are even practicing. There is essentially no Calvinist leadership in Geneva, no Calvinist headquarters in Geneva, no Calvinistic religion left in Geneva. There is essentially no Calvinism left in Geneva. If every Christian is either on the way to Rome or on the way to Geneva, then those on the way to Geneva are either on their way to losing religion altogether, or they are on their way to becoming something other than a Calvinist.

I have previously pointed out the many ways in which Protestantism is gnostic in its de-materialization of Christianity. In Protestantism, for example, Apostolic succession is purely formal, not material. Baptism is emasculated; it does not wash away our sins or regenerate us. In Protestantism there is no sacrament for the filling of the Holy Spirit. (This leads to a kind of Gnostic Montanism with respect to the guidance of the Holy Spirit, as can be seen in the Westminster Confession of Faith I.10.) In Protestantism the Eucharist is something less than the Body and Blood of Christ. (If you're not sure; apply Pontificator's Eleventh Law.) In Protestantism, the righteousness of Christ is transferred to us purely formally (extrinsically), not materially (infused); at least that's Luther's version. In Protestantism, absolution is purely invisible and immaterial; you just pray straight to Jesus to have your sins forgiven; you do not need a priest. In Protestantism, the Church per se is invisible; only its embodied members are visible. In Protestantism icons and relics are scorned. And so on. To this list we should add one more. Protestantism has no physical center, even while some Protestants speak as though Protestantism has some kind of physical counterpart to Rome. If you believe the Church is invisible, then why pretend it has some kind of physical center or headquarters? But if you believe the Church has a physical headquarters, then why pretend it is located at Geneva? As Chesterton wrote in The Catholic Church and Conversion: "There are Catholics who are still answering Calvinists, though there are no Calvinists to answer." There is a sense in which Waters and Philips are right with respect to there being only two directions in which we can be headed: as I have argued here, either we are headed toward a deeper understanding and acceptance of the implications of Christ's incarnation (i.e. God's enfleshment in matter), which is a movement toward Rome, or we are moving toward gnosticism, i.e. a rejection in some respect or other of Christ's incarnation or its implications.) The history of heresies is filled with those who tried to sit in the middle.

Saving Ecumenicism from Itself

Avery Cardinal Dulles' latest article in First Things is titled "Saving Ecumenicism from Itself". (HT: M. Liccione)

Cardinal Dulles discusses the 'convergence method' that has been in operation in ecumenical efforts for the past fifty years. This method starts with a recognition of common ground and seeks to use that common ground in order to find and achieve greater unity (hence the name 'convergence'). While acknowledging that this method has helped to bring about greater mutual understanding and greater recognition of common ground, Cardinal Dulles notes that it tends toward a reduction to a lowest common denominator. He writes:

Dialogues conducted according to the dominant methods of the past century have tended to be reductive, and many doctrinally conservative Christians, strongly wedded to their beliefs, have abstained from ecumenical involvements for fear of doctrinal compromise. Indeed, since the 1980s, some of the churches heavily committed to ecumenical dialogue have shown anxiety about maintaining their own identity. Some observers speak of a reconfessionalization in the ecumenical landscape.

Not only do many conservative traditions oppose this reduction of the faith to a "least common denominator", so does the Catholic Church. He writes:

John Paul II consistently opposed styles of ecumenism that seemed to aim at settling for a least common denominator. In an address to the Roman Curia on June 28, 1980, he laid down the principle that "the unity of Christians cannot be sought in a 'compromise' between the various theological positions, but only in a common meeting in the most ample and mature fullness of Christian truth."

But Cardinal Dulles expresses concern that the 'convergence method' of achieving ecumenical unity has nearly exhausted its potential. He writes:

And yet, valuable though it was, the convergence method was not without limitations. Each new round of dialogue raised expectations for the future. The next dialogue, at the price of failure, was under pressure to come up with new agreements. The process would at some point reach a stage at which it had delivered about as much as it could. It would eventually run up against hard differences that resisted elimination by this method of convergence. ... For some years now, I have felt that the method of convergence, which seeks to harmonize the doctrines of each ecclesial tradition on the basis of shared sources and methods, has nearly exhausted its potential. It has served well in the past and may still be useful, especially among groups that have hitherto been isolated from the conversation. But to surmount the remaining barriers we need a different method, one that invites a deeper conversion on the part of the churches themselves.

Why does he think that this method has nearly exhausted its potential? Because the various participants are relying on "different normative sources" or "different exegetical methods". He writes:

But to the extent that churches rely on different normative sources or different exegetical methods, the dialogues have been less ­fruitful.

That is where (in my opinion) Cardinal Dulles puts his finger right on the fundamental point of disagreement: the issue of authority. In order to advance ecumenical discussion to the next level, it is no longer adequate to leave our 'presuppositions' (or meta-level beliefs) under the table. We need to take the conversation to the meta-level questions. And the chief of these, in my opinion, has to do with authority. It requires us to focus on questions such as these:

• Whose determination of the canon of Scripture is authoritative?

• Whose interpretation of Scripture is authoritative?

• Which councils are authoritative and on what grounds?

• What is the source of ecclesial authority, and how is it acquired?

• What authority do the fathers have, and whose interpretation of the fathers is authoritative?

• What role would the answer to these questions play in the answering of these questions, and how should that affect the way we go about seeking the answers to these questions?

Consider an example. Andrew Sandlin, in an article titled, "The New (Old) Catholicity", wrote:

Am I suggesting that the various segments of churches give up their distinctives (the Baptists, the Pentecostals, the Presbyterians, and so on)? No, indeed. I am simply contending that they should subordinate their distinctives to the Lordship of Christ in all of life – God's gospel and law in our culture. A related problem is that Christians are willing to write off other thoroughly orthodox Christians. Some Lutherans believe it is sinful for their members to pray with any non-Lutherans. They call the this "promiscuous prayer." (I kid you not.) Some Presbyterians will not grant a letter of transfer to any churches but Presbyterian churches. Some Baptists claim they are the only Bible-believing church in town (when, in fact, there are plenty of non-Baptistic, but Bible-believing churches). Many Roman Catholics claim that theirs is the only church outside of which there is no salvation. Some Pentecostals believe that unless a person has been "baptized in the Spirit" and spoken in tongues, he is no Christian. All of these views are not merely silly; they are sinful. The boundary separating orthodox Christians from heretical Christians and from the world is the great creeds of the Church, or as is sometimes said, the fundamentals of the Faith. Roman Catholics are very mistaken, but they are a part of Christianity. The Eastern Orthodox have tragically misunderstood Christ's atonement, but they are a segment of Christendom. Dispensationalists may be mistaken about the rapture, but they are fellow believers. Presbyterians may be in error about Church policy, but they are brothers and sisters in Christ. Anglicans may be wrong about the relationship between Church and State, but they are in Christ's Body. They are all a part of the one true, visible, catholic (universal) Church.

Notice in particular this line: "The boundary separating orthodox Christians from heretical Christians and from the world is the great creeds of the Church". Sandlin embraces something like a "least common denominator" (i.e. "mere Christianity") approach to determining what is sufficient for Christian orthodoxy. Implicit in Sandlin's statement, however, is the assumption that while elucidation of doctrine so as to delineate orthodoxy from heresy occurred in the fourth and fifth centuries after Christ, it has not occurred since then. The question that naturally arises is this: What authority does Sandlin have to determine for all Christians which councils do not matter with respect to delineating heresy and orthodoxy? What authority does Sandlin have to determine for all Christians what is sufficient for orthodoxy, and what is necessary for heresy? "Who made [him] a ruler and judge over us?" (Genesis 2:14) What makes Sandlin's opinion more authoritative than that of the episcopal successor of St. Peter? Sandlin does not address the authority question; he simply starts declaring what is sufficient for orthodoxy. When that is the first move, the authority question has already been begged (cf. this selection from Tertullian). Sandlin is effectively saying either that there is no magisterial authority, or that he himself is (or is equal to or greater in authority than) any magisterial authority.

Consider another example. Rich Lusk, in "Reclaiming Catholicity" writes:

At the heart of any quest for restored catholicity is the canon of Vincent of Lerins: "Now in the Catholic Church itself we take the greatest care to hold that which has been believed everywhere, always and by all." That's not to say his canon is easy to apply, or even fully adequate after twenty centuries of doctrinal development and dispute. But Vincent does remind us that we should always focus most intently on those things that all Christians hold together: the basic doctrines articulated in the early ecumenical creeds concerning the Triune nature of the Creator God, the Incarnation of the eternal Son in Jesus Christ, and redemption through the death and resurrection of the God-man. In our teaching, our liturgies, and our prayer, it would do wonders for Christian unity if we kept coming back to these basic touchstones of Christian orthodoxy, what C. S. Lewis, following Richard Baxter, called "mere Christianity."

St. Vincent stated his canon in a context (fifth century AD Christendom) in which sacramental magisterial authority was an unspoken given. But if we take the Vincentian canon out of the context of the givenness of sacramental magisterial authority, then we have the following problems. No person's determination of the identity of the "all" is authoritative. There is then no basis for excluding the Arians from the "all". And then there is no basis for making Christ's divinity one of the basic doctrines of Christianity. Lusk accepts the early Ecumenical Councils, but, presumably, rejects the Seventh Ecumenical Council. On what grounds? Presumably, because it disagrees with his interpretation of Scripture. But then the Arians (and Jehovah's Witnesses) could say the same thing about the decisions of the Council of Nicea. So who gets to determine what are the "fundamentals of the faith"? If there is no ecclesial authority that can say definitively for all Christians, "These are the things you must believe and these are the things you must not believe", then terms such as 'orthodox' and 'heresy' are relativized. 'Your orthodoxy' is my heresy, and 'my orthodoxy' is your heresy.

When we get into the meta-level issue of authority, the Catholic Church has a gift to offer that makes genuine ecumenical unity possible. Cardinal Dulles writes:

One of the doctrines most distinctive to the Catholic Church is surely the primacy of the pope as the successor of Peter—a primacy that the First Vatican Council set forth in clear, uncompromising language. Because Catholics cherish this doctrine, we should not be content to keep it to ourselves. The successor of Peter, we believe, is intended by Christ to be the visible head of all Christians. Without accepting his ministry, Christians will never attain the kind of universal concord that God wills the Church to have as a sign and sacrament of unity. They will inevitably fall into conflict with one another regarding doctrine, discipline, and ways of worship. No church can simply institute for itself an office that has authority to pronounce finally on disputed doctrines. If it exists at all, this office must have been instituted by Christ and must enjoy the assistance of the Holy Spirit. The Petrine office is a precious gift that the Lord has given us not only for our own consolation but as something to be held in trust for the entire oikoumene.

The Catholic Church has received this gift directly from the incarnate Christ, and extends it to all who seek to follow Christ. The Petrine See has been made that unbreakable rock upon which Christ is building His Church; the rains come and the floods rise, but this house will stand firm. All those built on sand (i.e. ecclesial democracy) will crumble in a very short time. They have no principium unitatis by which to hold together. What mere man builds must pass into dust. The only house that lasts is the house built by the incarnate Christ. And that house is built not on pure form (i.e. the doctrine of Christ's divinity that Peter affirmed in Matthew 16:16), for pure form cannot be a rock. The rock is a form/matter composite, i.e. Peter (whose name means Rock), who by his confession showed himself to have been chosen by the Father to be the rock upon which the Church is built, the steward of the Church after Christ's ascension entrusted with the keys of the Kingdom of heaven. The form is hidden in the matter, and discovered through the matter. (See here). In this way the papacy is sacramental in character; it is a mystery hidden in matter. As St. Ambrose said, "Ubi Petrus, Ibi Ecclesia". That is what is meant by finding form through matter.

Authority and Unity

It seems to some that I am focusing on the issue of authority in an unnecessarily repetitive manner. But the reason I am focusing on the issue of authority is that (1) it is the fundamental issue underlying the division between Catholics and Protestants, and (2) this issue has not yet been resolved.

The question of authority is unavoidable, though many well-meaning persons try to avoid it, while remaining unaware that it is in fact unavoidable and that they are not successfully avoiding it. I pointed this out in my post in June titled "You say one must not papalize". Of necessity, either we are submitting to some ecclesial authority, or we are acting as our own ecclesial authority. What does it look like in practice to act as one's own ecclesial authority? Here's an example.

Protestant: "Go read Calvin; see for yourself that what he is saying is true."

Catholic: "But what authority does Calvin have? Why should I follow Calvin's teaching?"

Protestant: "He has the authority of Scripture, because everything he says is right from Scripture."

Catholic: "But what authority does he have to say what Scripture means, or to teach in the Church? Who ordained him, and authorized him to teach in the name of the Church? Who sent him? (Romans 10:15; Acts 15:24)"

Protestant: "Obviously God sent him. Just look at all the theological riches in his writings."

This hypothetical conversation shows how the Protestant and the Catholic are working within two different paradigms viz-a-viz authority. In this conversation, the Catholic is checking for ecclesial authority; the Protestant is not. The Protestant is judging for himself that Calvin's interpretations and teachings are in agreement with Scripture. The Catholic, on the other hand, looks to the magisterial authority of the Church to determine whether Calvin's interpretations and teachings are in agreement with Scripture. "What does Calvin say about the Church?", asks the Protestant. "What does the Church say about Calvin?", asks the Catholic.

Notice what is implicit in that "Read him and see for yourself". It is nothing less than the Serpent's advice to Eve that she look and taste for herself that the fruit was good for her. Implicit in it is the notion that "You have the highest authority [under God] to judge for yourself what is good for you".

Of course the common reply here from the Protestant is that the Catholic did the same thing, in becoming Catholic. There is truth to that, though he does so rightly not by determining for himself which doctrines are orthodox and thereby which institution is "most scriptural". Rather, he does so by determining which institution is the one Christ founded and thus which has the authority to tell him which doctrines are orthodox. (Even from the Protestant point of view, there are no institutions that have the authority to determine for all Christians what doctrines are orthodox.)

Consider the following quotation from St. Irenaeus:

"Therefore it is necessary to obey the presbyters who are in the Church, -- those who, as I have shown, possess the succession from the apostles; those who, together with the succession of the episcopate, have received the certain gift of truth, according to the good pleasure of the Father. But [it is also necessary] to hold in suspicion others who depart from the primitive succession, and assemble themselves together in any place whatsoever." – St. Irenaeus (Against Heresies, 4.26)

If apostolic succession is about form, and not matter, then loyalty to a group of persons is properly subordinate to loyalty to what one perceives to be the content of apostolic succession. In that case, there need be no hesitation in establishing a new group of persons around the form as one sees it (or finding a different group of persons that is closer in doctrine to the form as one sees it), for then the matter of the Church is determined by a certain form, and in that case the matter of the Church is rightly discovered by locating the material instantiations of that form. The alternative is finding form through matter, on the ground that matter determines form (cf. Against Heresies 3.3), as one finds the same life of an organism at a later date by finding the same physical body. I see no middle position. (Luther defined the Church in terms of what he believed to be the "gospel", as I pointed out here.)

For those who believe apostolic succession is about form, possessing what St. Irenaeus calls the "certain gift of truth" must reduce to teaching 'what I believe to be true'. For those who believe that matter determines form, the "certain gift of truth" is not the same as teaching 'what I believe to be true'. Rather, it means that truth is found in and through that matter.

What has this to do with unity? If the "certain gift of truth" is reduced to 'what I believe to be true', there will be as many different 'successors of the Apostles' as there are various beliefs about what is true. This is why the purely formal notion of apostolic succession is intrinsically individualistic and disposed to fragmentation. But if the "certain gift of truth" is understood in the sense that truth is found in and through that designated matter, then the particularity of matter (i.e. its inability to be multiply instantiated) makes this notion of apostolic succession intrinsically opposed to fragmentation, and intrinsically disposed toward unity and perpetuation. Catholics and Protestants cannot be unified until they recognize and resolve their fundamentally distinct understanding of Church authority. Does form determine matter, or does matter determine form?

For those who think that form determines matter, the question is then: "Form as determined by whom?" Since they have ruled out matter determining form, the only remaining answer is by default something reducible to "Me". Can such a position yield true unity? Those who answer affirmatively have traded in the unmatched unity Christ describes in John 17 between Himself and the Father for a democratic consensus around a "mere Christianity" drained of all content except a lowest common denominator of "Jesus" (or "Jesus saves", or "trust Jesus"). But that is if the liberals are excluded. And who will be the one to exclude them, if there is no pre-existing authority? Either there is a pre-existing authority, in which case matter determines form, or there is no pre-existing authority, in which case there is no possible ecclesial unity.

In every case where the Church seems to the critic to have "gone off the rails" with respect to dogma, it is (by the Quine-Duhem underdetermination thesis) no less possible that the Church has in fact stayed on the rails and it is the critic who has gone off the rails. (I raised this point in my article "Two Paradigms".) The Pharisee Gamaliel seems to have been aware of this, when he advised the Council of the Jews: "if this plan or action should be of men, it will be overthrown; but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow them; or else you may even be found fighting against God." (Acts 5:38-39)

With that in mind, it is not enough to raise a criticism of Church dogma, as if that establishes the Church's error. Throughout the history of the Church, heretical individuals and sects have believed themselves to be better judges of dogma than were the rightful leaders. That pride is precisely the sin by which they fell into heresy and schism – it can be seen in Korah's rebellion, and the sin of Nadab and Abihu. "We know better than you, Moses, what God wants for His people." The issue was not whether the leaders were fallible, but whether their God-given authority was to be respected, as David refused to kill Saul, and refused to make himself king. In order to unify the Church, we have to return to our rightful rulers. And that cannot consist in finding those who teach the doctrines we happen to think are true (cf. 2 Timothy 4:3). It means seeking out those old lines, the old matter (like Aragorn), and doing justice to their God-given authority over the Church. Either Christ failed to provide a means for ecclesial unity, or He provided to a line of men a "certain gift of truth". Those who deny that Christ provided to a line of men a "certain gift of truth" should be pressed directly on the possibility in their ecclesiology of true ecclesial unity. A careful examination will show it to be quite impossible, and for that reason rightly to be rejected. Grace builds upon nature, but those who deny that Christ provided to a line of men a "certain gift of truth" would need a miracle greater than the filling of the ark to bring about true ecclesial unity. That is Satan's lie, that man himself, by his democratic consensus, can establish the unity of Christ's Body. Implicit in that lie is the notion that the Church is not one. But God already made the Church one, as St. Cyprian explained. She is the "one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church". We do not make the Church one. We become one with the Church, and lead others to do so as well. The notion that Church unity is to come through democracy is the message of a contemporary Wormtongue.

Prayer

Dear Lord Jesus,

Please remake me, from a noisy gong and clanging symbol
Into the likeness of your Person.

Make me patient and kind.
Make me bear all things.
Make me believe all things.
Make me hope all things.
Make me endure all things.
Make me an instrument of your peace.

Help me to listen.
Help me to understand.
Help me to be gentle.
Help me to heal wounds.
Help me to carry the suffering of others.
Help me to bring unity to your people.

Bless all those who hear me.
Bless them in spite of my failings.
Bless those whom I have caused to stumble.
Bless those whom I have misunderstood.
Bless those who walk in confusion.
Bless all who seek the truth.

Be lifted up, that the world may see your Light.
Be raised high, that all may see your Beauty.
Be exalted above the earth, that all men may be drawn to You.
Be enthroned, that all may recognize your Majesty.
Be exalted, that all may sing your praises.
Be received in Zion, that all who love You may rejoice.

So that we may all be one,
That You may be glorified,
So that all the world may know
That the Father sent You,
And that the Father loves us,
Even as You love us.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Ora et Labora: The Sisters of Ephesus

A dear friend sent me this article. What does it have to do with reuniting all Christians? This I think:

"And I, if I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to Myself." (John 12:32)

"For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places." (Ephesians 6:12)

For more on the Sisters of Ephesus, see their web site and their blog. In the times of darkness, the monastery and the convent have been the unconquerable sources of light and hope and transforming power.

Critic or Pupil?

[The demon Screwtape writes:] "If a man can't be cured of churchgoing, the next best thing is to send him all over the neighborhood looking for the church that "suits" him until he becomes a taster or connoisseur of churches. The reasons are obvious. In the first place the parochial organisation should always be attacked, because, being a unity of place and not of likings, it brings people of different classes and psychology together in the kind of unity the Enemy desires. The congregational principle, on the other hand, makes each church into a kind of club, and finally, if all goes well, into a coterie or faction. In the second place, the search for a "suitable" church makes the man a critic where the Enemy wants him to be a pupil."

(The Screwtape Letters, New York: Macmillan, 1942, XVI, 72-73)

HT: Dave Armstrong

J.P. Moreland: "Fighting Bibliolatry"

Today I finished substitute teaching some classes on natural theology for a friend from seminary who is presently at the ETS meeting in San Diego. I see now that J.P. Moreland's talk on Wednesday seems to be the subject of conversation. Among the interesting points in Moreland's talk is this:

"A third area where Moreland critiqued evangelical over-commitment to Bible was in the scarcity of evangelical appeals to natural theology and moral law in their political and cultural discussions."

I agree. Subjects such as cloning, abortion, and sexual ethics are often treated as if there is no such thing as natural law. And sacred theology is often treated as if there is no such thing as natural theology or a positive philosophy that can provide a support for sacred theology. Moreland's call for a continued movement away from fideism is much needed. I was at the ETS meeting in Philadelphia in November of 1995 when Moreland gave the keynote, advocating the importance of the place of philosophy. When Moreland finished speaking, Greg Bahnsen stood up and went right after Moreland: "Couldn't you just replace [in your talk] every instance of your use of the word 'philosophy' with the word 'theology'"? asked Bahnsen. Moreland responded by explaining why he believed that philosophy served as a praeambula fidei. About two weeks later, Bahnsen died of mitral valve failure. (May his soul rest in peace.) From the point of view of improving prospects of a reunion between Catholics and evangelicals, Moreland's position is much better than Bahnsen's presuppositionalism (which is a form of fideism).

Protestantism is still recovering from its initial low view of reason, characterized, for example, in these statements by Martin Luther:

"Reason is the devil's greatest whore; by nature and manner of being she is a noxious whore; she is a prostitute, the devil's appointed whore; whore eaten by scab and leprosy who ought to be trodden under foot and destroyed, she and her wisdom ... Throw dung in her face to make her ugly. She is, and she ought to be, drowned in baptism . . . She would deserve, the wretch, to be banished to the filthiest place in the house, to the closets [i.e. toilets]."

"Reason is contrary to faith."

"Reason is directly opposed to faith, and one ought to let it be; in believers it [i.e. reason] should be killed and buried."

Granted that everything Luther said has to be taken with a grain of salt, but when one's view of reason is that low, fideism (and its resulting biblicism) is one's only option. As evangelical philosophers continue to discover the possibility of genuine philosophy and develop its role in the practice of theology, I think the prospects for Catholic-evangelical reunion will continue to improve.

Vatican joins historic talks to end 950-year rift with Orthodox church

This Times (UK) article with that title is available here. Notice in it the discussion of a possible future Ecumenical Council by which to restore unity between Rome and the Orthodox Churches. The 46 paragraph "Ravenna Document" is available here.

Cathedra Unitatis recently posted an excellent quotation from Archbishop Elias Zoghby; below is an excerpt:

It follows from what we have just said that every man who opposes efforts to promote Christian unity – from whichever side these efforts come – sins against the Son of God and against the whole Christian people. He also sins against mankind, called upon in its entirety to faith in Jesus Christ, but hindered from achieving it by, among other obstacles, the sight of Christians divided among themselves. Those, Catholics and non-Catholics, whom centuries of separation have left complacent in their isolation and who for reasons of expediency, national or racial, try to hinder the progress of Christian unity, will expose themselves on the Last Day to the severe judgement of every baptized soul and of every soul who might have been baptized had he not been scandalized by divisions among Christians.

These men play the part within the churches that sin plays in the soul. The churches must repudiate them if they are to continue on the road to unity, if they want success for the appeal of Pope John XXIII, so favorably echoed by other Christian leaders, and are anxious that with God’s grace the unanimous prayer of Christian peoples should be heard – the prayer for the realization of the desire so dear to our Lord: “that they too may be one … as thou Father art in me, and I in thee.”

Slick, Clark, and Monocausalism

The Christian Apologetics and Research Ministry (CARM) was founded in the mid-1990s by Matt Slick, a 1991 graduate of Westminster Theological Seminary in Escondido, California. He claims to be ordained, though by whom is not clear to me. At the CARM website, we can find an article with the following title: "Are Roman Catholics Christian?".

The article begins as follows:

Are Roman Catholics Christians? They are, if they have trusted in Jesus alone for the forgiveness of their sins. However, if they believe that they are saved by God's grace and their works, then they are not saved -- even if they believe their works are done by God's grace -- since they then deny the sufficiency of Christ's sacrifice.

His argument goes like this:

(1) We are saved by grace and works [Assumption]

(2) Our works are done by God's grace [Assumption]

Therefore,

(3) Christ's sacrifice was not sufficient. [From (1) and (2)]

But:

(4) Christ's sacrifice was sufficient. [Assumption]

Therefore,

(5) Premise (1) is false. [From (1), (2), (3) and (4)]

(6) Anyone who claims (3) is not saved. [Assumption]

Therefore,

(7) Catholics who claim (1) and (2) are not saved. [From (3), and (6)]

The problem with this argument is that (3), (5) and (7) are all non sequiturs, given a Catholic understanding of the term 'sufficient'. So the entire argument is, in that sense, question-begging. What is missing is the specification of the term 'sufficient': sufficient for what, with respect to what? When St. Paul fills up in his own flesh that which is lacking in Christ's sufferings (Col. 1:24), is St. Paul suggesting that Christ's sacrifice was insufficient? For Catholics, the answer is 'yes' and 'no', i.e. 'yes' in one sense, 'no' in another sense. 'Yes', in the sense that Christ's sacrifice was not sufficient to make St. Paul's sufferings for the Colossian believers unnecessary. But 'no' in the sense that Christ's sacrifice was sufficient to make possible a way to God for the Colossians and the whole world.

I'm concerned that monocausalism is working as an underlying assumption here in Slick's argument. Monocauslism is the notion (in this context) that if God is doing something, then we cannot also be doing it. It is a denial of the concurrence of primary and secondary causation. This is what seems to be driving the idea that if we (by divine grace) are contributing to our salvation through our works (cf. Phil 2:12), then it must be the case that something is being taken away from our being saved by grace alone, or by Christ alone. Our good works (worked in us by God's grace) are treated by monocausalists as though in competition with Christ's salvific work. If Christ's work saves us, then (think monocausalists) there is no room for us to do anything that contributes to our salvation. In this way monocausalism is what sets up the false dilemma of Pelagianism on the one hand, and the "Free Grace" type of position [i.e. think Zane Hodges] on the other hand. Monocausalism is a philosophical position, and it should not be treated as a claim that needs no substantiation.

With monocausalism in mind, notice the way Scott Clark, of Westminster Theological Seminary, accuses the Catholic doctrine of being "Pelagian" in his recent article titled: "Trent, Sungenis, Shepherd and Federal Vision". He followed that the next day with an article titled, "Mark Noll on Why the Reformation is Over (or Not)". Notice the monocausalism in the following line from that article:

Rome teaches a different definition of grace and she has always taught a soteriology of "grace plus." We confess a soteriology of grace plus nothing.

The Catholic Church also teaches a soteriology of grace plus nothing: it is all by grace. Only through monocausalistic lenses are grace-given works seen as something outside of (or in addition to) grace. Clark then adds:

She [i.e. the Catholic Church at the Council of Trent] understood that we [i.e. Protestants] say that only Christ fulfilled the law and that justification cannot be improved or perfected, that there is no "initial" and "final" justification but only one justification for all time.

Then he says:

Mark notes that Rome says that faith is a free gift. Yes, it is, but to imply that Rome means by "faith" in the act of justification that it remains a free gift is equivocation. Yes, in Roman dogma, faith begins as a free gift initiated in baptism, but in Roman dogma it is also the case that we must do our part. We must cooperate with grace.

Notice the monocausalism in the notion that if we must do our part, it is no longer a free gift. The implicit assumption is that our salvation cannot be a free gift if our very doing of these good works contributes to our salvation. But implicit in that assumption is the assumption that our very doing of these good works cannot itself be a free and gracious gift of God. Hidden behind these claims is the philosophical assumption that operates behind both occasionalism and deism: monocausalism. In my opinion, we need to shine a critical light on that philosophical assumption.