Pure Church

In God's gracious economy, the Lord sometimes gifts the body of Christ with people who can be expert tour guides to other faiths or other viewpoints. These men and women, sometimes by virtue of their studies, sometimes as a consequence of personal experience, are uniquely gifted to educate others regarding perspectives and beliefs different from our own. And that's a gift.

Over the past couple weeks, I've had the opportunity to read Christ Castaldo's new book, Holy Ground: Walking with Jesus as a Former Roman Catholic. You can find Chris' website and some good video here.

Chris was raised on Long Island, New York, as a Roman Catholic and worked full-time in the Catholic Church for years. He is a graduate of Moody Bible Institute and Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, and he now serves as Pastor of Outreach and Church Planting at College Church in Wheaton.

In the book, Chris skillfully combines one part personal testimony, one part focus group research, one part theological study, and one hefty dose of pastoral discernment and care. In other words, what we have here is a well-informed, sensitive, winsome, and insightful look at Roman Catholicism from one who left Catholicism and now serves as an evangelical pastor at College Church in Wheaton, IL. It's a real tool in the hands of pastors and family members often called to love and understand those inside Roman Catholicism.

I had the privilege of asking Chris a question or two, and I hope you enjoy the exchange!

1.) How would reading Holy Ground specifically benefit pastors?

Here it is in a nutshell: estimates say there are 14 million former Catholics in the United States who now identify as “evangelical” or “born again.” These are people who struggle to understand how their Catholic background still exerts influence upon them and who need to confront patterns of faith that are less than biblical, while simultaneously applying more of the gospel. At the same time, they wrestle with the challenge of effectively communicating the hope of Christ to Catholic family and friends. Most of us pastors have at least some of these folk in our churches. Holy Ground is written to help church leaders offer these individuals the contextualized form of discipleship they so desperately need.

Through an extended narrative describing my personal journey as a devout Catholic who worked with bishops and priests before eventually becoming an Evangelical pastor, Holy Ground tries to help readers to understand:

• Priorities which drive Catholic faith and practice
• Where lines of continuity and discontinuity fall between Catholicism and Evangelicalism
• Delicate dynamics that make up our relationships
• Principles for lovingly sharing the gospel of salvation by faith alone
• Historical overview from the Reformation to the present

Because Holy Ground is a pastoral work, there are several aspects pertinent to church ministry, but let me mention one I constantly deal with in my role of equipping our people for evangelism.

When we communicate the gospel to Catholics we often make the mistake of thinking that our conversations should directly address doctrinal issues. This is not only incorrect, it is impossible. When speaking to a friend about faith, we don’t speak directly to his religious beliefs; we speak to a person who holds religious beliefs. This is a crucial, overlooked distinction. John Stackhouse in his book Humble Apologetics puts his finger on it:

To put it starkly, if “message without life” was sufficient, Christ didn’t need to perform signs, nor did he need to form personal relationships in which to teach the gospel to those who would believe him and spread the word. He could simply have hired scribes to write down his message and distribute it (John G. Stackhouse, Jr., Humble Apologetics: Defending the Faith Today. [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002], 134).

This is what sometimes frustrates me about books written to equip Evangelicals to discuss Jesus with Catholics. They seem to operate according to the assumption that if you can simply pile up enough proofs, Catholics will have no choice but to surrender under the weight of your argument. Sure, we must have reliable evidence and must know how to marshal it effectively; but, we can’t ignore the personal, cultural, historical, and religious dynamics which are also part of these conversations. Like: What are the different types of Catholics in America today? How do Catholics generally view Protestants? What are the prevailing caricatures? What landmines do we routinely step on? What language is helpful and what terms undermine fruitful discussion? How can we navigate through controversies related to one’s ethnic background or the history of anti-Catholicism in America? Where is common ground and where must we necessarily draw lines of distinction? And the list goes on. Holy Ground addresses these and other such questions in order to help ourselves and the people we serve more effectively proclaim Christ’s glory among our Catholic friends and loved ones.

2.) In light of the Decrees of Trent, wouldn’t we still have to say that official Catholic doctrine on the matter of justification rises to the level of error so serious that it amounts to ‘another gospel’ – thus warranting an apostolic anathema?

The most helpful book I’ve read on this topic has been Justification by Faith in Catholic-Protestant Dialogue: An Evangelical Assessment by Anthony Lane, Professor of Historical Theology at London School of Theology. Tony Lane is a fine scholar (it’s a T&T Clark book, so if you buy it, do so when you still have a sizable chunk in your book budget). Here are a couple of Professor Lane’s conclusions, which I agree with and have found helpful.

Is the positive exposition of the Tridentine decree compatible with a Protestant understanding?

“No. When the difference in terminology is taken into account and when allowance is made for complementary formulations the gap turns out to be considerably narrower than is often popularly supposed, but a gap there remains.”

Do the Tridentine canons condemn the Protestant doctrine or only parodies of it?

“Many of the canons do not directly touch a balanced Protestant understanding, but a number clearly do. The verdict of The Condemnations of the Reformation Era (a joint ecumenical commission which met in the early 80’s) is as much a statement about the intentions of the churches today as a statement about the intentions of Trent and the Lutheran confessions.”

According to Lane’s conclusion, disagreement between the Catholic and Protestant understanding of justification remains, although it may not be as profound as we tend to think. Still, giving the binding nature of Trent’s decrees, evangelical Protestants remain in the crosshairs of the Catholic Church’s anathematizing canons. To the extent that Catholics operate according to this Tridentine framework (i.e., defining their position over and against justification by faith alone), they appear to be skating on the same thin ice as Paul’s Galatian interlocutors and in imminent danger of falling into the frigid water of “another gospel.”

Yet, we must realize that many Catholics, including Pope Benedict himself, don’t understand justification in this Tridentine light. For instance, in the Pope’s sermon on justification in Saint Peter’s Square on November 19, 2008 he said, “Being just simply means being with Christ and in Christ. And this suffices. Further observances are no longer necessary. For this reason Luther’s phrase: ‘faith alone’ is true, if it is not opposed to faith in charity in love.” A week later on November 26 in the Paul VI Audience Hall the pontiff continued this emphasis, “Following Saint Paul, we have seen that man is unable to ‘justify’ himself with his own actions, but can only truly become ‘just’ before God because God confers his ‘justice’ upon him, uniting him to Christ his Son. And man obtains this union through faith. In this sense, Saint Paul tells us: not our deeds, but rather faith renders us ‘just.’”

Lest you think the Pope’s statements were an out of turn, momentary flash in the pan, you can also read them in his recent book Saint Paul (Pope Benedict XVI. Saint Paul. [San Francisco: Ignatius Press], 82-85). This same note is hit by many Catholic theologians, particularly those like Beckwith who identify as evangelical Catholic.

Of more immediate concern to me is the penetration of the biblical gospel—the message of divine grace accessed through faith alone—into the hearts of Catholic people who haven’t a clue why Jesus died, much less how salvation is appropriated. Catholic philosopher Peter Kreeft describes this problem:

“There are still many who do not know the data, the gospel. Most of my Catholic students at Boston College have never heard it. They do not even know how to get to heaven. When I ask them what they would say to God if they died tonight and God asked them why he should take them into heaven, nine out of ten do not even mention Jesus Christ. Most of them say they have been good or kind or sincere or did their best. So I seriously doubt God will undo the Reformation until he sees to it that Luther’s reminder of Paul’s gospel has been heard throughout the church” (Peter Kreeft. “Ecumenical Jihad.” Reclaiming The Great Tradition. Ed. James S. Cutsinger. [Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1997]. 27).

This is the concern of Holy Ground—that the grace of God in salvation remains central. When talking with Catholics, there are myriads of potential rabbit trails. We may enter into a conversation to talk about how Jesus provides life with meaning and suddenly find ourselves enmeshed in a debate about the apocrypha or Humanae Vitae. Sometimes it’s right to broach these subjects, but too often we do so at the expense of the gospel. This is tragic. What does it profit a person if he explicates a host of theological conundrums without focusing attention upon the death and resurrection of Jesus? In all of our discussion with Catholics we must consider, celebrate, and bear witness to the splendor and majesty of our Savior, the one who died, rose, and now lives.

3.) What are the distinct features of Holy Ground that separate it from other such books?

Among evangelical books that address Catholicism, Holy Ground has a couple of features that make it unique. First, many such books convey an unkind attitude. The doctrinal emphasis of these works is commendable, but the irritable tone rings hollow and fails to exhibit the loving character of Jesus. It's the tone that my seminary professor warned against when he said, "Don't preach and write as though you have just swallowed embalming fluid. As Christ imparts redemptive life, so should his followers." This life is communicated in the content of God's message and also in its manner of presentation. Therefore, I seek to express genuine courtesy toward Catholics, even in disagreement.

Second, most books on Roman Catholicism and Evangelicalism emphasize doctrinal tenets without exploring the practical dimensions of personal faith. Important as it is to understand doctrine, the reality is there's often a vast difference between the content of catechisms and the beliefs of folks who fill our pews. Holy Ground is concerned with understanding the common ideas and experiences of real-life people.

4.) What should be the centerpiece of Catholic/Protestant dialogue?

When talking with Catholics, there are myriads of potential rabbit trails. We may enter into a conversation to talk about how Jesus provides life with meaning and suddenly find ourselves enmeshed in a debate about the apocrypha or Humanae Vitae. Sometimes it’s right to broach these subjects; but too often we do so at the expense of the gospel. This is tragic. What does it profit a person if he explicates a host of theological conundrums without focusing attention upon the death and resurrection of Jesus? This, I would contend, is the “centerpiece”—considering, celebrating, and bearing witness to the splendor and majesty of our Savior, the one who died, rose, and now lives.

5.) How would you counsel Evangelical pastors and Christians in the care of persons leaving Roman Catholicism?

When folks leave the Catholic Church, more than anything, they are susceptible to the pendulum swing, the typical 180 degree turn that transforms mild fellows into Yosemite Sam-like Christians, ready to point and shoot any Roman Catholic that moves. This extreme, which is often justified in the name of “truth” or “biblical conviction,” is motivated more by frustration, anger, and a misunderstanding of duty: frustration with a Catholic background that perhaps confused the simple message of the gospel, anger with clergy who seemed to have mislead them, and a view of evangelism that regards aggressive opposition to Catholics as one’s duty.

Over and against this perspective, our people must view the circumstances and timing of their conversion in the light of God’s sovereignty. Instead of regret or anger, we can be thankful for the lessons that God has taught us through our Catholic experience and use these lessons to help others. Moreover, we would do well to remember Paul’s words in 1 Tim 1:5, “The goal of our instruction is love from a pure heart, good conscience and sincere faith.” Love is not antithetical to truth; it coalesces with it. Indeed, this is the best approach we can take toward Catholic friends and loved ones, speaking the truth in love.

The one other lesson I’d want to emphasize among those leaving the Catholic Church is the centrality of grace. Most former Catholics I’ve met (including myself) struggle with unhealthy religious guilt to such an extent that divine grace is difficult to accept. I devote an entire chapter to this in Holy Ground, but the bottom line is that we ex-Catholics benefit enormously from memorizing biblical texts dealing with grace alone such as Psalm 103:12, Rom 8:1, Gal 2:20, and 2 Cor 5:21. Eventually, God’s Word renews our minds to appreciate, both propositionally and existentially, that our right-standing with the Father has nothing to do with our meritorious behavior and everything to do with the once and for all victory of King Jesus, to whom belongs all the glory.

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Thank you, Chris, for this interview and for this wonderful book!

Archbishop Rowan William's address at the Willebrand's Symposium underlines striking and worrying concerns regarding recent movements of some conservatives in the Anglican communion toward Rome. The Anglican church seems embattled on both right and the left. On the left, discussions about ordination of practicing homosexual bishops, women bishops, and homosexual "marriage" threaten to pull the church into the left side of the abyss. But on the right, there is an equally dangerous peril--conservative wings of the communion offered 'a home' in the Roman Catholic Church.

Why would conservative movement to Rome be as "equally dangerous a peril" as the church drifting leftward into liberal positions on women's ordination, homosexuality, and marriage? In short, both positions lose their grip on the gospel. On the one hand, there is an obvious abandonment of the gospel in favor of unbiblical sexual ethics and church order clearly contrary to Scripture. On the other hand, there is what should be seen as the obvious abandonment of the gospel of justification by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone, apart from any works.

Let me offer an example of the latter from the opening of the Archbishop's address at Willebrand. Williams references discussions the Roman Catholic Church has had since Vatican II with various other churches and what he sees as the legacy of those discussions "justly and happily celebrated" in the day's events. He writes:

The strong convergence in these agreements about what the Church of God really is, is very striking. The various agreed statements of the churches stress that the Church is a community, in which human beings are made sons and daughters of God, and reconciled both with God and one another. The Church celebrates this through the sacraments of Baptism and Holy Communion in which God acts upon us to transform us 'in communion'. More detailed questions about ordained ministry and other issues have been framed in this context.

That's a really interesting summary definition of the Church, and an ominous omission of what, in fact, creates the Church. Is she not constituted by those in saving relationship and union with Christ? And, precisely, how is that salvation and union wrought? The Archbishop's statement suggests--by what it does not say as much as by what it does say--that the Church is created by the sacraments "in which God acts upon us to transform us 'in communion'." Hmmm.... That's mighty slippery language that completely blanks the cross.

One might read these comments are "loose" statements, not meant as precise or clarifying comments, the way people might talk at the barbershop or their kids' soccer match. But this is not a barber shop or soccer match, and Archbishop Williams is no armchair theologian speaking loosely. What he considers important he states more clearly in the following paragraphs:

Therefore the major question that remains is whether in the light of that depth of agreement the issues that still divide us have the same weight – issues about authority in the Church, about primacy (especially the unique position of the pope), and the relations between the local churches and the universal church in making decisions (about matters like the ordination of women, for instance). Are they theological questions in the same sense as the bigger issues on which there is already clear agreement? And if they are, how exactly is it that they make a difference to our basic understanding of salvation and communion? But if they are not, why do they still stand in the way of fuller visible unity? Can there, for example, be a model of unity as a communion of churches which have different attitudes to how the papal primacy is expressed?

The central question is whether and how we can properly tell the difference between 'second order' and 'first order' issues. When so very much agreement has been firmly established in first-order matters about the identity and mission of the Church, is it really justifiable to treat other issues as equally vital for its health and integrity?"

It's staggering to think that the head of the Anglican communion could relegate the matter of authority to secondary importance, questioning whether it's even a "theological" issue in the same sense as "the bigger issues" already agreed on; namely, that "the Church" is "transformed in communion" by the sacraments. Really. The sacraments are more important theological issues than the cross, justification, grace and faith, authority, papal primacy, and so on? The sacraments are first order issues, while justification is second order?

One suspects that if that's the case it's because a comprise agreement has already been reached by some, and it's agreement itself that establishes order. Wherever there can be agreement, there must then be a first order issue. If there is no agreement, then obviously it's second order.

It's not difficult to tell that if Williams' definition of first and second order issues prevails, the Roman Catholic Church's definition of the Church and justification have already carried the day. Apparently Williams believes that treating justification as equal in importance is... well... not justified.

The Archbishop is serious about visible and institutional unity. He thinks there are some trends that might adjust ecumenical conversations downward, but the goal of visible, institutional unity remains. It would seem that the repeated casualty in historical and contemporary ecumenical discussions is the gospel itself. The one giant opposing issue unresolved in these discussions, side-stepped with sophisticated theological chatter and noise, is the gospel. It is marvelous that the central message of the faith is the central point of disagreement among those who value community.

But we're not surprised because those who champion "community" the loudest are often those who demonstrate little love for "the truth." If truth creates community, the tent of unity appears smaller but the stakes are driven deeper into the bedrock of God's salvation. Where community "creates" truth, the tent seems larger but it floats aloft in the winds of compromise and novelty.

Take, for example, Williams' meditation on the limits of ecumenical unity imposed by the issue of papal primacy. How do you establish institutional or visible unity where one communion maintains centralized and juridical papal primacy and another does not? Williams argues that we should take a:

look back to Cardinal Willebrands' celebrated sermon in Cambridge in 1970 which spoke (using the language of Dom Emmanuel Lanne) of a diversity of types of communion, each one defined not so much juridically or institutionally as in terms of lasting loyalty, shared theological method and devotional ethos. The underlying idea seems to be that a restored universal communion would be genuinely a 'community of communities' and a 'communion of communions' – not necessarily a single juridically united body – and therefore one which did indeed assume that, while there was a recognition of a primatial ministry, this was not absolutely bound to a view of primacy as a centralized juridical office.

Again, the emphasis on community espoused here rests upon "lasting loyalty, shared theological method and devotional ethos," not the truth of the gospel, the faith once and for all delivered unto the saints. A "community of communities and a communion of communions" somehow magically allow centralized papal authority to happily co-exist with other polities and views of authority. If that were ever possible, we might expect that the reformation would never have happened to begin with.

Williams alludes to doubts of his own, though they're not grave enough for the Archbishop to oppose the drift of conservatives in his communion toward Rome and the Apostolic Constitution under which conservative Anglicans may be welcomed into Roman arms. Williams writes:

The recent announcement of an Apostolic Constitution making provision for former Anglicans shows some marks of the recognition that diversity of ethos does not in itself compromise the unity of the Catholic Church, even within the bounds of the historic Western patriarchate. But it should be obvious that it does not seek to do what we have been sketching: it does not build in any formal recognition of existing ministries or units of oversight or methods of independent decision-making, but remains at the level of spiritual and liturgical culture, as we might say. As such, it is an imaginative pastoral response to the needs of some; but it does not break any fresh ecclesiological ground. It remains to be seen whether the flexibility suggested in the Constitution might ever lead to something less like a 'chaplaincy' and more like a church gathered around a bishop.

Williams' statement reads like an exercise in voluntary, willful schizophrenia. If the Constitution doesn't grant to the "community of communities" parallel methods of oversight and decision making but little more than autonomy in "spiritual and liturgical culture" and something like a chaplaincy for those moving to Rome, why as the leader of the communion would you support it?

For its part, Rome doesn't seem to yield one square inch of theological turf. And, honestly, I can't blame her. If she believes she holds the truth, why abandon it for a yarn as fuzzy as "community of communities"? The RCC leadership demonstrates more integrity with its theological positions than Anglican leadership does with her own, whether within or outside Anglican communion. For example, ordination of women is an open question for Anglican communions doing theology along the lines of Williams' understanding of the church and authority. But that's not an open question for Rome, and the Roman Catholic Church's steadfastness threatens Williams' vision for unity. He writes:

To take the most obvious instance in the relations between the Roman Catholic and Anglican churches at present, the local decision to ordain women as priests – and as bishops in some contexts – is presented by Roman Catholic theologians as one that in effect makes the Anglican Communion simply less recognisably a body 'doing the same Catholic thing'.

Here, I say, "Three cheers for Rome!" While perhaps not popular, I'd say it's better for conservative Anglicans to bite the bullet and embrace Rome wholeheartedly than to remain an ostensible part of the "Protestant" fold in a communion abandoning biblical authority and the gospel that saves. The more you look at some quarters of the Anglican church, the more one has to agree that it's not "doing the same Catholic thing." It's doing something completely different than biblical Christianity. At least those moving to Rome would move to a communion where clarity holds and keeps the main issues the main issues.

In his conclusion, Williams makes my point:

Once again, I am asking how far continuing disunion and non-recognition are justified, theologically justified in the context of the overall ecclesial vision, when there are signs that some degree of diversity in practice need not, after all, prescribe an indefinite separation. I do not pretend to be offering a new paradigm of ecumenical encounter, far from it. ... At what point do we have to recognise that surviving institutional and even canonical separations or incompatibilities are overtaken by the authoritative direction of genuinely theological consensus, so that they can survive only by appealing to the ghost of ecclesiological positivism?

What exactly is "the authoritative direction of genuinely theological consensus"? Is that what happens when you get enough people simply agreeing to a position, a kind of democratically-determined sanity and truth? If so, that'll never do.

Williams goes on to state:

All I have been attempting to say here is that the ecumenical glass is genuinely half-full – and then to ask about the character of the unfinished business between us. For many of us who are not Roman Catholics, the question we want to put, in a grateful and fraternal spirit, is whether this unfinished business is as fundamentally church-dividing as our Roman Catholic friends generally assume and maintain.

It would seem that among all those who believe in truth and that truth is not determined by consensus, yes, the business of Protestant-Catholic unity is unfinished and church-dividing. Until we all hold the same gospel, there can be no deep, lasting or real unity. For it is the message that saves and the Savior of that message that creates the Church of His calling. Everyone in the "community of communities" had better make sure they know this message and this Savior. We don't get a vote or a community caucus on judgment day. Those who do not love the truth perish while those who obey the gospel of our Lord enter life (2 Thessalonians).

What do you say: Is the Anglican-Roman Catholic discussion of unity helpful? Is union possible?

Related Posts:
Are Protestants Still Protesting?
So, Again, What Is an Evangelical?

That question has been kicked around a bit. And, I know, there are as many unsatisfying or cloudy answers as there are people who think they can define it clearly. Some even think we should retire the word and move on from any titles or create new ones.

I've not thought about the word recently, though I find myself thinking and talking about the people/movement called "Evangelicals" all the time. The most recent prompt to think about the question "What is an evangelical?" came from Francis J. Beckwith's recent letter explaining why he has re-joined the Roman Catholic Church. Until May 5, 2007, Mr. Beckwith was the sitting president of the Evangelical Theological Society.

This post is not about Mr. Beckwith and his recent decision. I don't know him personally and it would be both unwise and uncharitable for me to speculate on his motivations (public and private, theological and personal) leading to this move. Carl Trueman offers some good responses to the few theological reasons that Beckwith offered for his move to Rome (HT: JT).

But what caught my attention was a statement Mr. Beckwith made when he was considering the possibility of serving out his term as president: "I can in good conscience, as a Catholic, affirm the ETS doctrinal statement."

If a former-evangelical-turned-Roman Catholic can in good conscience sign the ETS doctrinal statement, how good a statement can that be? How does that shape our definition of evangelical? In the words of one hotly debated book, is the Reformation over?

Here is the ETS "doctrinal basis" in its entirety: "The Bible alone, and the Bible in its entirety, is the Word of God written and is therefore inerrant in the autographs. God is a Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, each an uncreated person, one in essence, equal in power and glory."

I'm not a member of the society, so perhaps an ETS member out there can help me out. Is this really all there is to the "doctrinal basis" for the society? It seems to me it would be difficult for any orthodox Christian to deny this statement, whether or not they are "evangelicals."

I can well understand an academic society dedicated to a particular purpose wanting, for intellectual and other reasons, to maintain a membership with people from disciplines and perspectives not necessarily its own. That can add much needed rigor and richness to the intellectual climate.

Yet if someone not committed to "evangelical" truth can maintain one of the highest posts in the organization in good conscience, I think that organization hasn't done a robust enough job in defining itself. "Evangelical Theological Society" sounds like it's a group of evangelicals (and a smattering of others) who commune together over theological issues from a distinctly evangelical perspective. If that's not the case, perhaps the group should be called the "Society for the Study of Evangelical Theology."

In suggesting a name change, I've gone beyond a certain boundary I should respect. It's not my place to suggest that an organization change its name. But if the group does not change its name (and I don't think they would), could they take up that tired ol' question and help the rest of us out: What is an evangelical?