ALMIGHTY God, who hast given us thy only-begotten Son to take our nature upon him, and as at this time to be born of a pure virgin; Grant that we being regenerate, and made thy children by adoption and grace, may daily be renewed by thy Holy Spirit; through the same our Lord Jesus Christ, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the same Spirit ever, one God, world without end. Amen.
The Fourth Sunday in Advent
O LORD, raise up, we pray thee, thy power, and come among us, and with great might succour us; that whereas, through our sins and wickedness, we are sore let and hindered in running the race that is set before us, thy bountiful grace and mercy may speedily help and deliver us; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with thee and the Holy Ghost, be honour and glory, world without end. Amen.
The Third Sunday In Advent
O LORD Jesus Christ, who at thy first coming didst send thy messenger to prepare thy way before thee; Grant that the ministers and stewards of thy mysteries may likewise so prepare and make ready thy way, by turning the hearts of the disobedient to the wisdom of the just, that at thy second coming to judge the world we may be found an acceptable people in thy sight, who livest and reignest with the Father and the Holy Spirit ever, one God, world without end. Amen.
Reform and Renewal Inseparable from the Christian Religion
Ideas of reform and renewal, both personal and communal, are inseparable from the Christian religion and are bound up with the grace of Christian liberty through redemption. The properly ordered, adequately reformed Christian life is one in which God’s service is experienced as perfect liberty. As Ladner showed in his major work The Idea of Reform: Its Impact on Christian Thought and Action in the Age of the Fathers (Ladner 1959), the idea of reform is arguably unique to Christianity and belongs to its very essence, being enshrined in its original trust deeds, as it were. The cluster of interrelated ideas, found in the New Testament and the early Church, of penitence, conversion, baptismal regeneration and the life of discipleship, shaped the concept of reform. The notion, so central to St Paul’s epistles, of the renewal of the image and likeness of God in humankind, inspired the reform movements of early and mediaeval Christianity. St Augustine of Hippo was a seminal influence on concepts of renewal and reform, but Augustine’s vision was limited: he was interested only in individual sanctity and in small communities of kindred spirits in the midst of a decadent and crumbling earthly city. It was not until the late eleventh century, the age of Gregory VII (Hildebrand), that the reform agenda embraced the whole Church; and it took a further century, until the age of Innocent III and St Thomas Aquinas, before the vision of reform became extended to Christendom itself. The idea of reform, Ladner concludes, ‘was to remain the self-perpetuating core, the inner life spring of Christian tradition’ (Ladner 1959: 423).
p. 20.
The Second Sunday in Advent
BLESSED Lord, who hast caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning; Grant that we may in such wise hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that by patience and comfort of thy holy Word, we may embrace, and ever hold fast, the blessed hope of everlasting life, which thou hast given us in our Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.
What Is “Authority”? (Part 2)
In the first part of this series, I endeavored to explain some issues of prolegomena regarding Christian discussions of the topic of “authority.” In this post I will now sketch some practical applications in history by examining four positions on “authority” that were held in the patristic era.
One clarifying note before I begin: throughout this post, I will use compound terms such as “theological politics” and “political theology” and “spiritual-political” in order to highlight the fact, expounded in my first post, that man has two distinct, though intertwined ends. If we are to reflect on matters of “authority” properly, we must not surrender to the dichotomizing trend of Modern thought and speak of “theology” as a discipline that is unconnected to, and unaffected by, other areas of human life. Christian theology takes its only infallible norms from Holy Scripture, but theological reasoning is not thereby confined to the explicit words of Scripture. Scripture is not solely a divine book, and Christians are not solely spiritual beings. Thus, proper reasoning about “authority” cannot restrict itself to biblical exegesis alone.
Note that all four positions contain the words “Church” and “Empire,” a fact which underscores my point in the first post (on prolegomena issues) that spiritual and temporal cannot be separated if we are to properly formulate a full-bodied Christian doctrine of “authority.” Spiritual and temporal can and should be distinguished, but if they are separated we will succeed in formulating a doctrine of “authority” that embraces only half of human life under God – and which, we will find upon reflection, seriously distorts that half.
These four positions were debated extensively by patristic writers, and the debates continued just as vigorously in the Middle Ages. Despite the rhetoric of adherents of each position – who, of course, all believed that their position was the obvious truth, and all others obvious falsehood – no consensus was ever reached by Christians either in the patristic or Medieval periods. The conflicts of the 16th century only exacerbated the lack of consensus, and even today, we have no consensus – that is, no consensus short of a particular position merely defining all the others out of the realm of rational consideration.
In this post, I will briefly rationally consider the four options in order to sketch the parameters that I think should govern contemporary Christian discussions about the issue of “authority.”
Some versions of this view, for instance, deny that the temporal and spiritual have any real connection. Both are to go their own ways, the temporal to progressive destruction because of sin, the spiritual to progressive salvation because of grace. The value of the temporal is, essentially, only an instrumental one – that is, temporal things have no meaning of their own, but only have meaning insofar as they can be made to serve the spiritual end. A contemporary example of this perspective is the generic Baptist paradigm of American Protestant thought.
Other versions allow for a limited interaction between the two views in the sense that Christians may participate in temporal affairs, but not as Christians. You may be an auto mechanic or a painter or an insurance salesman or a police officer, but your Christianity has nothing distinct to say to how you carry out these purely secular tasks. A contemporary example of this perspective is the “two kingdoms” view of Church and State promoted by Westminster Theological Seminary, which touted by its adherents as the original Reformation vision but by its opponents as “R2K” (Radical Two Kingdoms Theology”).
This view was the one that many early Christian writers gravitated toward, for while Christianity was a persecuted minority sect, it only made practical sense not to thumb one’s nose at the whole society in which one lived – unless, that is, the society demanded that one compromise Christ. This view dominated the Orthodox Church throughout the long centuries of its dominance in the East, being called by Western theologians “Caesaropapism.” It also, ironically, dominated the theological politics of many Western emperors and kings during the Middle Ages, and animated their centuries-long conflict with the popes.
Some influential Christian thinkers after Constantine’s victory in A.D. 313 held this view, as may be seen in the celebrated conflict of Ambrose of Milan with Emperor Theodosius, in which a lowly bishop forbade the supreme temporal lord to enter the Church for communion until he repented of his sins. This view was the one that dominated the theological politics of the popes during the Middle Ages, and animated their centuries-long conflict with emperors and kings.
It was this fourth position that dominated Medieval theological politics in the realm of theory. It is because of Gelasian dualism that we now have to modify the original central term of this discussion, “authority.” When looking at Christian history, especially as a guide to understanding past theology with an eye toward formulating good theology today, we cannot simplistically use terms like “authority” and “rebellion” as if they have only one meaning. We are forbidden, if we wish to be not only historically accurate but constructive thinkers in our own situations, to simply define other positions out of the realm of rationality by an uncritical use of terms.
It must be observed that Gelasian dualism does not speak generically of “authority,” but of “orders,” and only one of these “orders,” the spiritual sphere, is given the name “authority” (Gelasius’ term was auctoritas sacrata pontificum.) The other “order,” the temporal sphere, is given the name “power” ( regalis potestas). Although this at first seems to underwrite the idea that spiritual-politics is the supreme “authoritative” reality, we must recognize that in the framework of Gelasius’ language, both orders have specific areas over which they are, by God’s ordination, independently in charge – areas in which the other sphere may not interfere. In other words, both orders have what we Moderns, who are too often careless with terminology, would want to call “authority.”
As noted earlier, nearly everyone who wrote on the subject of “authority” between roughly A.D. 500 and A.D. 1500 paid lip service to the principle of Gelasian dualism. However, nearly everyone proceeded from the universally-agreed upon definition to manifold practical violations of it. I cannot digress here to examine specific examples of these violations, for such an aside, though highly relevant, would be inordinately lengthy.
Admittedly, in that first post I only sketched the contours of the picture of “authority” that Scripture paints. Here too, much substantive discussion is needed. Nevertheless, I take it as almost axiomatic from the shape of the biblical data considered as a whole that whatever may eventually arise from it, that thing will be neither a systematically spelled out nor a universal Christian political theory. We will not be able to force the Bible, even if we try to take it literally “on its own,” to underwrite a single theological-political viewpoint to which all who name the name of Christ must submit on pain of disobedience to Christ.
Why do I say this? Although many Christians argue that, since God is King over all the earth, monarchical government is the divine pattern for all human beings, this is too simplistic a way to read the Scriptures and apply them to real human conditions (as opposed to ideally imagined human conditions which exist nowhere in space and time). God providentially controls all of life on earth, and in His providence He has allowed numerous modes of culture to flourish among men. No attempt at sustaining a universal empire, a universal culture, a universal system of “authority” among men, has ever lasted, and there is no reason outside of utopian idealism to believe that any such attempt ever will last.
Indeed, although the division of languages (and so the multiplication of cultures) came about because of God’s judgment on man’s sin at Babel, the advent of the Gospel into the world does not seem to have had as one of its goals the reversal of Babel so that man could once again live under one universal society. Rather, the reason that tongues were given on the Day of Pentecost was so that each one could hear God’s truth proclaimed in his own language. God has nowhere made it plain to us that He intends all people everywhere to live in one homogenous cultural situation, and so there is no reason outside of utopian idealism to believe that any attempt to create such a thing – inclusive of a scheme of “authority” – will ever succeed.
To close, then, the lack of a precisely spelled out and universal political theory in Scripture seems to entail that God has left this matter open for reasonable debate among Christians. We have to “tease out” what position is both most compatible with the biblical data and most workable in a given human cultural situation in which the Gospel of Christ has been embraced. Far from meaning, as some wags would have it, that there is no “Truth” to be found by this method but only relativistic compromise, in reality, this method is the only one that takes seriously the fact that we are not just spiritual beings, but embodied spiritual beings. It is not that “Truth” cannot be found, but that “Truth,” once it is found, turns out to be quite a bit more full-bodied, not to mention quite a bit more interesting, than the caricature of itself which is sought so ardently by simplistic, idealistic thinkers who want to live in a “flat” world of “objective” notions “purely” practiced only by their own sect.
We have two ends, not just one, and although Scripture enjoins us not to trade spiritual things for earthly messes of pottage, the biblical way to avoid doing this is not to call all earthly things messes of pottage and exclusively seek the spiritual. To do so is to embrace only half of the Christian faith, half of the Christian Gospel, and half of our humanity made in God’s image.
What is “Authority”? (Part 1)
The main purpose of Reformed Catholicism.com is to address issues of catholicity within the multi-faceted world of theology and practice emanating from the 16th century Protestant Reformation. Another purpose is to demonstrate how the traditions of the Reformation are not, as is assumed by Roman Catholics – and by many Protestants, as well – instances of rebellion against the ancient authority of catholic Christianity. Frequently, in fact, Roman Catholics accuse Protestants of refusing to submit to God-ordained authority, and of substituting their own for it. In order to effectively combat this characterization, it is necessary to discuss at some length the concept of “authority.” Given the complexity of these issues, I have found it necessary to respond in two parts, and I beg the reader’s indulgence as I first labor to spell out certain important issues of prolegomena.
Everyone understands that Scripture has to be applied in the world by those who confess its authority as God’s Word. We must respond to what Scripture says with deeds, and those deeds are necessarily done in this world. There is no doctrine of “authority” that is relevant only to the Church, and which answers only to “spiritual” concerns, because human beings are not only spiritual beings. We are embodied beings, too, and all doctrines that we profess to believe have not only spiritual effects but bodily ones as well – especially the doctrine of salvation, which terminates not in disembodied souls floating around in heaven for eternity, but in resurrected bodies in a new physical heavens and earth.
We Christians thus have two ends, not just one – a spiritual and a secular end. We are eschatologically bound for the next world, but as long as we live in this world, we are still citizens of this-worldly polities. We should not treat spiritual things as if they are all that is relevant, and so treat this-worldly life as if it is irrelevant, for all of life, even the temporal parts, is lived coram Deo – “in the face of God.” Hence, we must all grapple with the relationship of spiritual to temporal in this world and eschew a pietistic disavowal of the goodness of the temporal and the inescapability of our engagement with it.
In this broad context of ourselves being people with two ends, a spiritual and a temporal, the word “authority” biblically speaking must not be understood to have one simple meaning. Rather, its meaning depends on which end, or which sphere of operation, we are talking about. Further, the word may have more than one meaning within a particular sphere, especially when we start considering what happens in each sphere when its area of competence starts to overlap with that of another sphere.
For instance, what does “authority” mean when a churchman breaks the secular lord’s law? What does “authority” mean when the State tries to tell parents that they are compelled to send their children to its schools, where it will openly teach them godlessness? What does “authority” mean when the Church tries to enforce upon a conscience, as a condition of salvation, a belief in a doctrine that has no clear biblical warrant? What does “authority” mean when the State tries to enforce a law that enjoins immoral or unjust behavior? And so on. A little reflection on these questions will show that the word “authority” cannot have a “one size fits all” meaning.
I have so far been talking about two spheres, the ecclesiastical and the temporal, which are, to use some Medieval terminology, both examples of in foro externis– external “forums” in which authority is exercised. I should add a third, the in foro interno, or the individual’s conscience. These three “forums” of authority are always coming into contact with each other, and their relations with each other have to be described and accounted for in a responsible manner. Scripture says something about all three fora, but it does not give an exhaustive, definitive, systematic account of their relations with each other. Not only is Scripture not an encyclopedia, it is not a systematic theology. The Lord has left it to us to do some spade work.
On the other hand, on several occasions Paul stood up for his rights as a Roman citizen when various temporal authorities tried to do things to him that the law did not allow (Acts 16, 22, 23, and 26) – and these things were directly related to his public proclamation of Christian truth. Spiritual and temporal ends seem intertwined in these instances. Further, it seems that for Paul temporal “authority” was both multiple in its location and limited in its operations. It did not have only one simplistic, let alone unchallengeable, meaning that applied in all conceivable situations. Prudence was necessary to determine when and to what extent resistance to a given temporal authority was appropriate.
Lastly on this point, Romans 13 presents the interesting principle that the temporal lord is the minister of God “for the punishing of wrongdoers” – a statement which, if logically reversed, would allow one to say that a temporal lord who does not punish wrongdoers is, by that very fact, betraying his divine commission. What should one do then? Christians have disagreed with each other for many centuries about this matter. One pole asserts, for instance, that it is always “rebellion” to resist a lawfully-ordained authority (a chief text cited here is 1 Samuel 15:23, “rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft.”) Another pole asserts, to the contrary, that lawfully-ordained authorities are constrained precisely by the law, and if they transgress the law, their claim to “authority” ceases to be binding.
Clearly, even just on the matter of temporal authority, matters are not as simple as they might first appear.
Conscience, then, is an authority that is neither unitary (there are as many consciences as there are people) nor absolute (it can be wrong). Moreover, conscience (even if we later find out it was wrong) is an authority that we ought not to ignore in the here and now. Conscience (even if we later find out it was wrong) is a legitimate judge of other authorities, and part of our growth in grace is to “train” our consciences so that they will be (more or less) reliable guides to right and wrong. But in any case, we must surely agree with Luther that “to go against conscience is neither right nor safe.”
Scripture amply demonstrates that ecclesiastical authority is limited. Indeed, the whole of the Old Testament may be called to witness in favor of this principle. Over and over again in the Old Testament, the people of God are called to reform their ecclesiastical structures in accord with the Scriptures, and over and over again we see that errors in ecclesiastical structures arise and accumulate from forgetting the testimonies of the Lord and following the “wisdom” of mere men instead. But even if one dispenses with the Old Testament, the New Testament remains to challenge any view that says “authority,” particularly spiritual authority, is unchallengeable by anything outside of itself.
The most famous example of the limitations of the ecclesiastical power in the New Testament is, of course, the retort of the Apostles to the Sanhedrin when the latter told them to stop preaching in the name of Jesus: “We ought to obey God rather than men.” Paul had to contend for his authority as an Apostle alongside of James, Peter, and John, which shows that “authority” in the Apostolic band was not limited to just a few, let alone to one. We are also told in many places that the enemies of God can capture positions within the ecclesiastical structure, and use those positions to promote heresy.
Hebrews 13:7 enjoins us generally speaking to obey those that have the rule over us, for they are the ones who must give account for our souls. But at the same time, Ephesians 6:4 admonishes fathers not to provoke their children and masters to treat their slaves with goodwill. Colossians 3:20-22 tells children to obey their parents “in all things” and slaves to obey their masters “in all things.” That passage echoes Ephesians 6 by telling the fathers that they are not to provoke their children, lest the children be discouraged. This surely has significant application to spiritual “fathers” as well as to physical ones.
Most of these passages are general in scope, but when taken together they give us much data upon which to construct a biblical understanding of “authority” and its limitations.
One may think here of the charge given to the Red Cross Knight by the Faerie Queene, that he aim for the City in the Other World – yet not forget that before he can get there, he must descend into the valley and dispatch the dragons, monsters, and other evildoers. He cannot simply dispense with the valley-work in the name of the alleged superiority of the spirit-work, nor can he, like Bunyan’s Christian, do the valley-work as if the only reason it matters is because it leads to the Celestial City. No, the valley-work is important and meaningful in its own right, for it is the God-ordained, God-superintended temporal end of man. It is not merely important and meaningful for the sake of the spiritual end.
So then, on the classical definition of “politics,” we must not act as if our spiritual lives have no connection to our temporal lives, or that the temporal is essentially meaningless in the light of the spiritual, or that the spiritual end can stand on its own, needing no input from the temporal end. Matters of the just and the unjust crop up constantly in our spiritual lives as well as in our temporal lives, so “politics” equally applies to the former as to the latter. Once more, we are not just spirits, but embodied spirits, and our hope as Christians is not merely the immortality of the (saved) soul, but the much more organic and holistic resurrection of the body (1 Cor. 15). Spiritual and temporal are distinct but they are not separated.
The classical definition of “politics,” which one may see is wrapped up with questions about “authority,” formed part of the backdrop to the New Testament writings, especially Paul’s epistles. The New Testament was not revealed in a cultural vacuum, and it is not a manifesto of truths that have no historical, cultural setting and no contemporary cultural ramifications because they are only “spiritual.” Paul was not just a Roman citizen, but a highly educated Roman citizen, and his writings continually exhibit familiarity with the major currents of philosophy, literature, politics, and rhetoric of the Roman Empire. His general remarks in Scripture must surely be interpreted with an eye toward the things that shaped his mind – especially if we believe that, in B.B. Warfield’s memorable metaphor for inspiration, the Holy Spirit poured Divine Truth through that mind like light pouring through a stained-glass window. The light of Divine Truth was given a particular “hue” by the conditions of the human mind through which it came, and that “hue” had been preordained by God Himself to be exactly what it was. Truth, then, is not “objective,” but is quite “biased” – and “biased” in precisely the way that God intended it to be.
Especially from the standpoint of someone who claims to believe in sola Scriptura, it is important to take into account the fact that Christians in the first few centuries after the Apostles, the patristic age, were quite familiar with the text of Scripture, and sought to bring all things into conformity with it. Yet this did not entail the simplistic vision of biblical authority held by many Protestants today. There is a false idea of sola Scriptura widely held that says, “If we can’t find it explicitly spelled out in Scripture, if we can’t exegete it directly out of the grammar and syntax of the text, we can’t hold it as being true.” That is itself not true to the Reformation principle.
The patristic authors were not so foolish as to believe in Truth the perception of which was not formed by, articulated in terms of, and defended within the embodied context of culture. The question for them (as for everyone, ourselves included) was, of course, how to submit cultural standards to Scriptural ones, but there was nothing of the naïve trust in “objectivity” that some Protestants today exhibit when they claim they can simply dispense with cultural categories and “only” have the “plain meaning” of the Bible via feats of grammatical-syntactical legerdemain alone.
In the second part of this post, I will attempt to flesh out these general considerations by expositing four positions on “authority” that were held in the patristic era. The purpose of this exercise will be to lay some groundwork for defending the classical Protestant idea of “authority” against its various detractors.
Saint Andrew the Apostle
ALMIGHTY God, who didst give such grace unto thy holy Apostle Saint Andrew, that he readily obeyed the calling of thy Son Jesus Christ, and followed him without delay; Grant unto us all, that we, being called by thy holy Word, may forthwith give up ourselves obediently to fulfil thy holy commandments; through the same Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Jeremy Taylor on Church Councils
Many thanks to Joel Martin over at Living Text for pointing us to this quote:
There are divers general council that though they were such, yet they are rejected by almost all the christian world. It ought not to be said that these are not general councils because they were conventions of heretical persons, for if a council can consist of heretical persons (as by this instance it appears it may) then a general council is no sure rule or ground of faith. And all those councils which Bellarmine calls ‘reprobate’ are so many proofs of this. For whatever can be said against the council of Ariminum; yet they cannot say but it consisted of DC. bishops, and therefore it was as general as any ever was before it; but the faults that are found with it prove more; first, that a general council binds not till it be accepted by the churches, and therefore that all its authority depends on them, and they do not depend upon it; and secondly, that there are some general councils which are so far from being infallible, that they are directly false, schismatical, and heretical. And if when the churches are divided in a question, and the communion, like the question, is in flux and reflux; when one side prevails greatly, they get a general council on their side, and prevail by it; but lose as much when the other side play the same game in the day of their advantages. And it will be to no purpose to tell me of any collateral advantages that this council hath more than another council; for though I believe so, yet others do not, and their council is as much a general council to them as our council it to us. And therefore, if general councils are the rule and law of faith in those things they determine, then all that is to be considered in this affair, is whether they be general councils. Whether they say true or no, is not now the question, but is to be determined by this, viz., whether are they general councils or no; for relying upon their authority for the truth, if they be satisfied that they are general councils, that they speak and determine truth will be consequent and allowed. Now then if this be the question, then since divers general councils are reprobated, the consequent is that although they be general councils, yet they may be reproved. And if a catholic producing the Nicene council be met by an Arian producing the council of Ariminum, which was far more numerous; here are
—aquilis aquilæ et pila minantia pilis; [“of eagles matched and javelins threatening javelins.” From Lucan’s Civil War, Book One, 7]
but who shall prevail? If a general council be the rule and guide, they will both prevail; that is, neither. And it ought not to be said by the catholic, ‘Yea, but our council determined for the truth, but yours for error,’ for the Arian will say so too. But whether they do or no, yet it is plain that they may both say so: and if they do, then we do not find the truth out by the conduct and decision of a general council; but we approve this general, because upon other accounts we believe that what is there defined is true…Both sides pretend to general councils: that which both equally pretend to, will help neither; therefore let us go to scripture.
The Whole Works of Jeremy Taylor, Volume VI, “Real Presence of Christ in the Sacrament”.