Thursday, June 20, 2013

Catholic Christianity Comes to a New World


I still recall my high school history teacher telling us, like many other history teachers would tell their classes that those coming to the New World came for three reasons:  Gold, Glory, and the Gospel.  She didn’t say it at the time but I later realized there is a reason “gospel” is usually listed last.  Often if the gospel got in the way of accumulating the first or winning the second, the gospel suffered. 

CATHOLIC MISSIONS IN THE NEW WORLD

The Spanish Sphere

The Roman Catholic Church had been a missionary church throughout most of its history.  The impulse to take the message of Christ (as they understood it) pushed priests and friars beyond many national borders.  In the beginning, the missionaries sometimes entered new territory armed only with their faith; they would go to the new world accompanied by a technologically superior military force.

The common approach taken by the Spaniards to the native peoples they encountered in those early days included reading a proclamation which said they were now subjects of the Pope and must submit to his spiritual authority.  They were warned that if they did not submit, the Spaniards would cause them whatever “mischief” they could and then they would be made slaves.  The proclamation was, of course, in Spanish.  Those who submitted were kept in compounds and were, in essence, made slaves.

Evangelism among the Mexicans was of questionable value.  No real instruction preceded the baptisms.  Some of the priests would report thousands of baptisms per day.

The Indians were eager enough to accept the Christian faith; but they were just as ready to abandon it. Between 1524 and 1531 the Franciscans baptized more than a million Mexicans. The practice of mass baptisms had the same effect as mass conversions in northern Europe in the early Middle Ages: ignorance, magic, superstition in Christian symbols.[1]

The church had crossed the Atlantic and reproduced on new soil the cultural Christianity that dominated most of Europe. This not to say there were no genuine conversions among the Indian peoples but the approach made it unlikely.

Gold hungry Spaniards looted temples and sent the wealth back to the king.  Where the Spaniards started plantations, they made the natives—who were in theory their spiritual brothers and sisters—into slaves.  The life-expectancy of such slaves was about three years.

   The Dominican friar Bartolomé de las Casas (1484-1566), who served in Guatemala and later as a bishop in southwestern Mexico, urged fairer treatment for the native populations.  He wrote a defense of the “Indios” in which he claimed their various civilizations were as advanced as the Greek, Roman, and Egyptian civilizations, more advanced than some of the northern European cultures.  He condemned the demands for tribute made by the Spaniards and the use of the natives as slaves.  To press his cause, he returned to Spain where he spent the remainder of his life fighting for more humane treatment for the people he had come to admire.  He is remembered in Latin American countries as a pioneer of human rights.
Regrettably, however, he recommended that Indian slavery be replaced with African slavery.  It’s difficult to imagine the convoluted thinking that might have prompted this argument but African slavery was already being practiced so he may have felt his scheme would have, at least, stopped the abuse from extending to one more group.

Despite such a beginning, Roman Catholicism became entrenched in the Latin American culture.  Like a giant birthday cake, the pope simply divided South America between Spain and Portugal. 

Further north, the number of cities and towns across the American southwest named after saints reminds us of that Catholic heritage. Then, too, evidence of the friars’ efforts can still be seen in the remains of the old missions they built to bring Christianity to the Indians.  One was the Valero mission built in 1724, in the state of Northern Mexico. It functioned as a mission until 1793 when it was secularized and the land nearby was returned to the locals from the village of Bexar.  After being abandoned for a decade, soldiers from the Bexar garrison began using the buildings, renaming it for the cottonwoods that grew nearby.  They called it the Alamo.
The presence of the missions does indicate that the friar and priests made an effort to do more than generate nominal belief. 
 

2

Catholicism dominated the area until Texas and later California became part of the United States.  However, there were some illegal Baptist and Methodist churches in Texas prior to the 1836 Revolution.  The American people who moved into the southwest brought their denominations with them and, of course, one new religion made its center of activity in the area.

Mexico’s Reformation:  Roman Catholicism remained unchallenged in Mexico until the mid-nineteenth century. General Santa Anna had even made conversion to Catholicism a requirement for settlers in Tejas.

 Mid-century brought what has been described as Mexico’s Protestant Reformation.   In 1857, President Benito Juarez (who had helped overthrow Santa Anna in 1855) signed the Laws of Reform that granted religious liberty throughout Mexico.  The Catholic hierarchy opposed this new freedom, but many priests were supportive and eventually formed their own church, Iglesia de Mexicana de Jesus.   As an entity, the church lasted only about a decade but during that time many of its leaders embraced clearly Protestant ideas.  They would become leaders in the Presbyterian, Methodist, and Anglican churches in Mexico. 

After the 1870, missionaries began arriving in Mexico, mostly from the US.  Their work would create a strong evangelical minority in the nation.  These evangelicals were especially supportive of the Revolution from1910-1917.

In the twentieth century, Pentecostals and then the so-called Neo-Pentecostals became a powerful force reaching the middle and upper classes.  Pentecostalism had been brought to the country by returning migrant workers who had embraced this form of Protestantism while working in the US. Mexican evangelicals represent about 10 percent of the population and they are beginning to become involved in the political life of the nation. 

 In 2000, Lindy Scott wrote that “Religious persecution continues in Chiapas, Oaxaca, Hidalgo, and other states, but this persecution has resulted in even greater growth.”[2]  For the past forty years, Protestantism has grown rapidly in the southern portion of the nation.  It’s estimated that of the populations of Chiapas, Tabasco, and Yucatan 25% is evangelical Protestant or Pentecostal.

 

The French Sphere

French Catholic missionaries, often unsupported by military force, travelled great distances.  In 1600, missionaries reached what is now Sault Ste Marie, Michigan.  In 1604, Jesuits arrived in Nova Scotia. A few years later, in 1615, French missionaries opened a school in the Trois-Rivieres area in Quebec.  

The practice of mass baptism did not play a role in missionary efforts to reach the Indians of Canada and what would become the American northeast.

3

Despite concerted efforts to reach the native peoples, the missionaries were often hampered by the French conflicts with the Indians, especially the Iroquois. 

When the British gained control of Canada in 1763 the fate of the Roman Catholic Christians became a matter of concern.  The Quebec Act, in 1774, gave Catholics freedom of worship.

 

 



[1]  Shelley, B. L. (1995). Church history in plain language (Updated 2nd ed.) (285). Dallas, TX: Word Pub.
 
[2]  “Mexico,” Evangelical Dictionary of World Missions, 2000, p.  620.  Much of the foregoing material on the church in modern Mexico is from this article.

Introducing the Reformation and Variety in Protestant Theology


 

In 1492—the year Columbus sailed the ocean blue and found a new world that wasn’t exactly lost—a 61 year-old man took on a new job, one he had secured by bribery.  He was unmarried but was sometimes seen in the company of his nineteen-year-old mistress.  Of course, he was known to have some seven children born to other mistresses.  The new job allowed him to give his children positions of power and wealth. He would hold the job until the early years of the sixteenth century, one of the most tumultuous of European history.  This man—known for his lechery and nepotism—was Pope Alexander the VI. 

If you imagined popes were above such behavior, many a 16th century European would snicker at your naiveté. 

But the blatant immorality of the clergy, whether at the highest level or at the village level, WAS not really the most important factor in the events that would make the 16th century so significant.

Things had been brewing for sometime:

--The rising nationalism caused some nations to resent the interference of the popes.

--The efforts of individuals like John Wycliffe, John Hus, and Savonarola raised awareness that something was wrong at the heart of the system.

--The Renaissance with its call to “get back to the sources” led to a renewed interest in the New Testament and the earlier church fathers; neither, it was discovered, contained the elaborate sacramental system on which the church depended for its psycho-spiritual power over people. 

We are going to begin with a look at two of the most memorable names from that century.

Martin Luther

Martin Luther was born in Saxony in 1483 into the home of a prosperous miner.  In 1505, while still in his early twenties, he received the MA from the University of Erfurt.  He planned to study law, a profession his father had chosen for him.  Then, one night as he was riding through a storm, a nearby bolt of lightning caused his horse to throw him and the panic-stricken Luther to cry out, “Saint Anne, help me.  I will become a monk.”

True to his promise, in 1506, Luther became a monk in the Augustinian order.  In time, he was ordained a priest and began serious theological studies.  In 1512, he received the Doctor of Theology degree at the University of Wittenburg, where became a teacher.

Outwardly, Luther’s career in the church was stellar.  In only a few years, he had gone from novice to professor of Biblical studies at one of Germany’s newest universities.  Inwardly, however, Luther was spiritually dissatisfied.  Though he was a diligent priest and scholar, he had no peace of soul.  In his own words, he constantly wondered “when will I find a gracious God.”

Luther pursued the most rigorous of behavior to try to find peace with God but it eluded him.   He wore his confessor out with the minutia of his confessions.  Finally, his superior in the monastery advised him to give up being so introspective and focus his attention on the Scripture and theology.  He did.  From, the Scripture Luther began to get a different understanding of God’s righteousness.

To put the matter simply, Luther discovered the church had lost sight of the message of the gospel.  Grace had become a commodity to be earned through the sacraments and righteousness a quality to be attained by good works.  Luther felt he had never quite done enough.

But through his biblical studies, Luther began to get a new understanding of God.   He discovered that “the righteousness of God,” that Paul wrote about was not the righteousness he was to strive to attain by his efforts but the righteousness that God gave to those who believed.  Indeed, God yearned to give salvation to all who trusted him.  Our self-effort could do nothing toward attaining God’s favor.  Instead, we are justified by faith, faith alone.  The work of Christ is sufficient for our salvation; we can add nothing to what he has already done.

All of this might have remained Luther’s private discoveries had it not been for a church renovation program back in Rome.  Pope Leo X was renovating St Peter’s cathedral and needed cash—a lot of it—to get the job done.  So he approved a campaign to sell indulgences.  An indulgence was a way to escape time in Purgatory, that place between death and heaven where even good Christians—excepting the saints—went to be purged of sins that remained after baptism and regular penance.  Indulgences had long been available but these had a new selling point, they could affect those already in purgatory.  You could buy one for yourself and one for an already dead relative. 

Johan Tetzel was the pope’s representative in Saxony.  To sell the indulgences he used some surprisingly modern methods, such as advertising jingles:  “As soon as the coin in the coffer rings the soul from purgatory springs.”  (No, I don’t know why a jingle in German should rhyme in English.)  Tetzel used guilt to sell his product.   It would be a hard-hearted man who could resist the appeal that for just a few coins he could end granny’s torment.

Luther was incensed at what he considered a travesty.  He believed indulgences were unbiblical.  He believed the way to heaven was through faith.  He doubted the pope could do anything about the condition of the departed and, if he could, why didn’t he simply empty Purgatory instead of trying to make money.

These arguments and others were in the 95 Theses that Luther nailed to the cathedral door tht was used as a kind of bulletin board to announce upcoming events.  Luther was proposing a public debate on the issue.  He probably didn’t expect it to go much further than the university lecture hall.  He was wrong.

The theses were copied, translated, printed, and spread throughout the territory.  In time, his opinion of indulgences caught the attention of the church authorities.   In 1520, the pope issued a statement denouncing Luther and his teaching.  Luther burned it in a public ceremony which was probably the most flagrant defiance of authority imaginable.  Life for western Christians would never be the same.  In 1521, Luther was ordered to explain himself by Emperor Charles V.   The meeting took place at Worms.  It was here Luther concluded his defense with the words: 

“Unless I am convinced by the Scriptures or by clear arguments (since I believe neither the Pope nor the Councils alone; it being evident that they have often erred and contradicted themselves), I am captive to the Holy Scriptures, and my conscience is bound by the word of God: I cannot and will not recant anything, since it is unsafe and dangerous to do anything against the conscience.”

Some reports say Luther added the word, “Here I stand.  I can do no other.  God help me.  Amen”

The die was cast and the Protestant Reformation rolled on without stopping. 

We don’t have time to look at all the rest Luther did.  He would help translate the Bible into German.  He would write passionate defenses of the new understanding of the faith, which he believed was really the old understanding of the faith.  We can’t examine his obstinate refusal to see any other way to understand the Eucharist than one that somehow, someway made Christ really present in the elements—a refusal that would leave the Reformers divided when they probably needed to be united.  We won’t reflect on his anti-Semitism or his vicious, heartless response to the Peasants’ Revolt.  We can trill at his courageous “Here I stand,” but we also need to look at the whole man.

John Calvin

John Calvin (1509-1564) was a second generation reformer.  Calvin would first train as a lawyer and then turn to theology.  He became a priest and sometime in 1532/33 became embraced Protestant theology and underwent conversion.  He would spend a couple years fleeing the authorities, coming finally to Geneva in 1536, intending to quickly move on to Strasbourg.  

At this time he had already begun the first edition of what would become the most famous Protestant theology text, The Institutes of the Christian Religion.  It would be published in ever expanding editions until finalized a few years before his death in 1564.  It is still read and studied in Reformed (Calvinist) seminaries today.  One website refers to the book as “the immortal Institutes.” Calvinists take Calvin pretty seriously.

In Geneva he encountered William Farel, better known for his preaching than his organizational skills, who cajoled him to remain and help the city implement Protestant reforms.  Farel must have recognized the young Frenchman possessed the skills he lacked, as well as a gift for articulating the faith.  Except for a brief period of exile, Calvin would spend the remainder of his life in the city.  Geneva had been seriously flirting with Protestantism and the two reformers would help seal the deal.   In Geneva Calvin created a community where the line between church and state was blurred if not completely erased.  It was a laboratory in which Reformed theology could find practical expression in the particulars of life. 

Geneva’s influence was far-reaching.  When the authorities in Britain and elsewhere began putting pressure on Protestants, leaders like John Knox fled to the city.  There they would learn how to put the Reformation to work in their own nations when the opportunity came.

With the best of intentions, Calvin, his fellow pastors, and the city council created laws that essentially micromanaged the lives of the residents.  Naturally, there were laws about matters such as church attendance, divorce, and dress; but they also limited what names parents could give their children.

Calvin’s influence was almost certainly greater than Luther’s; by the end of the Reformation there were a sizable number of Calvinists in Germany.  It might not be going too far to suggest Calvin was the Thomas Aquinas of Protestantism. 

[Augustine was “the Augustine” of Protestantism while remaining “the Augustine” of Catholicism;  some have suggested that the Reformation represented the clash between Augustine’s view of salvation and Augustine’s view of the church.]

The precepts of Calvinism would be formalized at the Synod of Dort in 1618-19; the Synod had, in part, been called to answer the arguments of the followers of James Arminius (1559-1609).  Ironically, some historians believe Arminius—who is usually pictured as the iconic anti-Calvinist—was actually attempting to defend Calvin who had, as Arminius believed, been misrepresented by his most ardent disciples.   Those same historians suggest Arminius was subsequently misrepresented by his most ardent disciples.  In any case, Dort defined the essence of Calvinism.  Later, some enterprising individual summarized what Dort said and produced the most famous acronym in Christian history, second only to ICQUS.    

The major points of Calvinism may be summed up using the word Tulip.

TàTotal Depravity.  Not only have all sinned, but all have sinned to the degree that they are incapable of responding to God.

UàUnconditional Election.  God chooses some to be elect and receive the gift of salvation. (Scholars still debate whether Calvin taught that God elected some to damnation; it is hard to avoid  the conclusion that he did.}

LàLimited Atonement.  The atonement Christ provides is effective only for the elect.

IàIrresistible Grace.  The elect cannot resist God’s grace; if they are elect, they will be saved.

PàPerseverance of the saints.  The elect will not fall away from the faith and will ultimately go to heaven.

Calvin is also known for his emphasis on predestination and the sovereignty of God.

The best known and most influential of the Arminians (not to be confused with Armenians) was John Wesley (who held some views that many Arminians would not accept).  Arminians insist that election is based upon God’s foreknowledge of who would and would not believe the gospel.  As a consequence, Arminians believe the atonement is universal in its application and that the promise “whosoever will may come” really means that and not “whosoever will may come (as long as they’re the elect).” Arminians hold differing opinions regarding the issue of the perseverance of the saints. 

The fortunes of the two groups have changed over the centuries.  At the end of the seventeenth century a popular joke in England went. “What do the Arminians hold?”  The answer was, “All the best bishoprics and deaneries.”   At the end of the eighteenth century, John Wesley would write a little book attempting to define Arminian beliefs.  He would begin by saying that in the minds of many to say “There is an Arminian” had the same impact as saying, “There is a mad dog.”

 

The following is an account of an encounter between a well-known Calvinist and an even better-known Arminian.  Not all of such encounters end as this one did.
During the Evangelical Awakening in 18th century England the tireless evangelist John Wesley, founder of Methodism, met with Charles Simeon, pastor of the university church at Cambridge.  They differed on many issues.  But listen to what happened on that platform on October 30, 1787.
                “Sir,” said Simeon, “I understand you are called an Arminian;  now I am sometimes called a Calvinist, and therefore, I suppose, we are to draw daggers.  But, before I begin to combat, with your permission, I will ask you a few questions, not from impertinent curiosity but for real instruction.  Pray, sir, do you feel yourself a depraved creature, so depraved that you would never have thought of turning to God, if God had not put it into your heart?”
                “Yes,” said Wesley, “I do indeed.”
                “And do you utterly despair of recommending yourself to God by anything that you can do;  and look for salvation solely through the blood and righteousness of Christ?”
                “Yes, solely through Christ.”
                “But, sir, supposing you were first saved by Christ, are you not somehow or other to save yourself afterwards, by your good works?”
                “No, I must be saved by Christ, from first to last.”
                “Allowing then, that you were first turned by the  grace of God, are you not in some way or other to keep yourself by your own power?”
                “No.”
                “What, then, are you to be upheld every hour and moment by God, as much as an infant in its mother’s arms?”
                “Yes, altogether.”
                “And is all your hope in the grace and mercy of God, to preserve you unto His heavenly kingdom?”
                “Yes, I have no hope but in Him.”
                “Then, sir, with your leave, I will put up my dagger again:  for this is all my Calvinism;  this is my election, my justification, my final perseverance.  It is in substance al that I hold, and as I hold it;  and therefore, if you please, instead of searching out terms and phrases to be the ground of contention between us, we will cordially unite in those things wherein we agree.”
               

 

Calvinist and Arminians continue to debate and will, doubtless, continue to debate.  Calvinists feel free to ignore the Arminians’ arguments and the Arminians feel destined to hold onto their beliefs. 

Radicals and Anabaptists

From almost the beginning, there were those who felt Luther was not going far enough.  Indeed, his changes were very conservative.  He did not deliberately provoke controversy and he feared greatly feared anarchy. 

Others were less hesitant.

The so-called radical reformers took were very different from each other but all of them agreed things were moving too slowly.

Those who advocated revolution, communism, and such social change as polygamy would eventually be dealt with by the government.

Other groups would face great trial but would survive.  These are known by the term “Anabaptists.”  The term means “re-baptizers,” referring to their belief that the baptism they received in the Catholic Church as infants was invalid.

Embracing the common themes of the so-called “magisterial Reformers,” Anabaptist beliefs usually also included a rejection of infant baptism, rejection of any union of church and state, and, in time, pacifism.   They often emphasized a simple lifestyle but the expression varied from group to group.  Their enduring contribution would be the notion of “the believers’ church;” while Lutheran and Reformed groups might cling to the distinction of an invisible church within the visible church, the Anabaptists through the practice of discipline and oversight attempted to eliminate that distinction. 

Just to clarify, the Anabaptists were not the forerunners of the Baptists.  They differed in various ways.  Baptists certainly were never committed to the notion of pacifism, as their participation in the English Civil War would demonstrate.  At the same time, the seeming similarity in the practice of baptism doesn’t bear close scrutiny.  As James Payton points out:

…while sixteenth-century Anabaptists rejected paedobaptism, they did not practice believers’ baptism (as it is commonly known today); instead, they practiced disciples’ baptism.  The contemporary option of experiencing a conversion in one church service and being baptized in the next, a practice common in many such church circles, was foreign to sixteenth-century Anabaptists.  They reserved baptism for committed disciples who had shown by their steadfast faith, self-discipline and wholehearted following of the ideals of the gathered community that they were genuine disciples.[1]

 

 

The English Reformation or Ecclesiastical Diversity from the People Who Gave Us Cricket

On my first visit to London, I visited several stores looking for some souvenir bearing the logo of the Blackburn Rovers; this in a city gone mad over Manchester United.  I found simple books on understanding polo, understanding rugby, understanding (English) football—there were no such books on cricket. A clerk told me, “Cricket can’t be explained simply.”

The same thing must be said about the English Reformation.

You still hear the notion that the Reformation came to England because Henry VIII needed a divorce.  There’s too much truth in that account to call it an outright falsehood but Luther’s thought was already finding acceptance by some in England.

Still, Protestantism in the British Isles had a difficult birth.  Though the Church of England became Protestant under Henry VIII, Mary would take the nation back to Catholicism, Elizabeth would bring it back to Protestantism. 

Church leaders tried to create a church that represented something of a middle way.  In the end, you had a church with a Reformed statement of faith (the Thirty-Nine Articles) and practices that struck some as suspiciously Roman Catholic.  Both Protestants and Catholics were unhappy with the results. 

Outlawed for a while, Catholics were eventually marginalized.

By the end of the 16th century the Church of England produced two groups.  The Puritans who wished to “purify” the church were willing to stay within the church, following a principle we might call “agitate and wait.”   The Separatists demanded “reformation without tarrying for any” and withdrew from the church, willing to face the consequences of their commitment.

Conflict and confusion would be the hallmarks of the 17th century.  While the C of E would give the world the King James Bible, they would persecute those interpreting it differently than their leaders.  The persecuted who fled to a new world would persecute those who interpreted that Bible differently than did their leaders.  An English king would be beheaded and a Baptist tinker would be sent to jail where he would write a devotional masterpiece, The Pilgrim’s Progress.

Before the dust settled in the late seventeenth century with the 1689 Act of Toleration, the British would go to war among themselves over religious issues but finally realize there had to be room on their tiny island for differences of opinion.  Still, the Act did not give freedom to Catholics; that would come later.

 

Some scholars believe the British attitude toward the Church of England is directly related to that church’s long association with the government.  When unhappy British voters think of the government, they also think of the church. 

 

For all the variety the Protestants produced, they held to a common core of beliefs. They would have different distinctives but all of these groups would share common themes traceable to Luther’s revolution.

·         The Bible alone is the foundation for Christian belief and practice.  Historically, Protestants have termed this as sola scriptura. 

·         Salvation is the free, unmerited gift of God, available to all.  Sola gratia Protestants say.  Salvation is by “grace alone.”

·         The avenue to this gracious salvation is through “faith alone,” sola fide.

·         Each believer may enter a relationship with God, enjoying communion and forgiveness, without any other human mediator, a principle the Protestants called “the priesthood of believers.”  Protestants would insist there is no distinction between priest and laity.

 

The emphasis on the Bible and the stress on the believer’s freedom would produce a problem distinctive to Protestantism.  While Protestants agree we are bound by what the Bible says; Protestants by no means agree on what the Bible says.

It makes things interesting.

 
A Few Words About the Other Reformation, The Catholic Reformation

The Catholic Reformation (sometimes called the Counter-Reformation) was the Roman Catholic response to Protestantism.  That being said, there were some efforts, especially in Spain, to attempt to enforce canon laws regarding the morality of the clergy.

The most significant element of the Catholic Reformation, regarding theology at least, was the Council of Trent (1545-1563).  The council met for nearly twenty years examining the many aspects of Roman Catholic thought and practice.  There were a few theologians who presented a Protestant view of justification but they were silenced or self-silenced in the interest of self-preservation.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                The final sessions were greatly influenced by the Jesuits and finally acknowledged there would be no reconciliation with the Protestants.  Significant decisions included:

--The insistence that doctrine rested on the Bible and tradition.

--The insistence that only the church could interpret the Bible.

--The system of sacraments was reaffirmed.  Communion would continue to be in one kind.

Regarding prayers to saints, indulgences, and Purgatory little changed.

The fortunes of the Roman Church varied from century to century with both gains and losses in power and influence.

The nineteenth century the Church produced new doctrines and responded to changing culture with a passionate conservatism. 

In 1854, Pope Pius IX proclaimed the dogma of the Immaculate Conception, a doctrine which teaches that Mary was conceived without original sin.  About a century later, the church would proclaim the Bodily Assumption of Mary, a dogma that states Mary was taken to heaven without having to undergo death.  This underscores the notion that she was sinless.  Catholics are united in their affirmation that Mary was a unique woman, perhaps the most unique in history; they are divided over other matters regarding the mother of Jesus.  Forces in the church continue to press to have her officially declared a co-redeemer.    A Jesuit priest once told me he was embarrassed at how the language some used in describing Mary.

The First Vatican Council, convened in 1870, is significant for its endorsement of papal infallibility.  Although several cardinals objected, the dogma was agreed upon.  It states

The Roman Pontiff, when he speaks ex cathedra—i.e., when, in his character as pastor and doctor of all Christians, and in virtue of his supreme apostolic authority, he lays down that a certain doctrine concerning faith and morals is binding upon the universal church—possesses by the divine assistance which was promised to him in the person of the blessed St. Peter, the same infallibility with which the Divine Redeemer thought to endow His church, to define its doctrine with regard to faith and morals.[2]

Since 1870, the dogma has been invoked on only one occasion.  That was when Pope Pius XII proclaimed the bodily assumption of Mary in 1950.

Several ideas or philosophies were officially condemned in the closing days of the nineteenth century.  This includes a condemnation of communism and socialism.  Some popes were very suspicious of Americanism.

The Second Vatican Council (1962-65) was called by Pope John XXIII to help “modernize” the church.  Nothing changed doctrinally but there were some far-reaching changes on other matters.

--Protestants became “separated brothers.”

--Liturgy and mass would be in the vernacular, the language of the people.

--Communion would be in both kinds.

RC theologian Karl Rahner (1904-1984) would eventually begin to speak of “anonymous Christianity” in which those who are not consciously Christian may exercise an inherent faith inspired by transcendent experiences which are universal to all human beings.  Consequently the adherents of non-Christian religions may be such “anonymous Christians.”  So, too, may the atheist.  Without abandoning the quest for conversions, this will transform the Catholic Church’s approach to missions.

Karl Barth, one of the most influential Protestant theologians of the 20th century, evaluated the structure of RC theology and concluded that no matter the outward changes it was impossible to escape “that damn Catholic ‘and’”.    No matter how sophisticated he language, salvation continues to be by faith plus.

Evangelicals like the late Charles Colson have attempted to develop common ground with Catholics but real obstacles remain. 

 

 



[1]  Getting the Reformation Wrong (2010), p. 161.
[2]  Kurian, G. T. (2001). Nelson’s new Christian dictionary: The authoritative resource on the Christian world. Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson Publishers.
 

Monday, June 17, 2013

A Desperate Father



John 4:43-54

John tells us about a desperate father, a father did what had to be done to save his child.

We know very little about this father.  He was an official in Herod’s court, he lived in Capernaum, and somewhere he had heard about Jesus.  Maybe he had been in Jerusalem for the Passover and witnessed the miracles Jesus performed.  Maybe he heard his neighbors talk about what they had seen. 

The most important fact about him is that his son was seriously ill.  Whatever the illness, it involved a fever.  This is why he found himself going to Jesus for help.  In our age we’ve become so accustomed to having aspirin and antibiotics that we may not fully appreciate just how serious this diagnosis was.   You may be sure the best physicians in Capernaum had seen this boy and they concluded that he was dying.  His desperate father determined to go to Cana and bring the Healer back with him.

Capernaum was located on the northwest end of the Sea of Galilee about twenty miles from Cana.  It would later become Jesus' base of operations for a while.  But right now it was simply the home of a father who wanted very much to see his son live. 

At this point there are probably a couple matters we ought to note about this father:

1.  He almost certainly had an inadequate understanding of who Jesus was.  There were traveling “healers” who sometimes traveled around Galilee.  It’s impossible to know if these individuals actually possessed any special healing abilities, but it seems the people believed they did.  This nobleman was convinced Jesus was such a healer.

2.  He had no way of knowing that what Jesus had been saying in his homeland.   John says that when Jesus returned to Judea, where he was born, he often reminded them that a prophet receives no honor in his homeland.[1]  Outside of Judea, would this man’s approach truly “honor” Jesus?

On the surface the Galileans seemed to welcome Jesus, even honor him,  but their respectful welcome was given only as long as Jesus behaved as they wished him to behave.  They thought of Jesus as the man who performed amazing miracles, turned water to wine, and did other things which left them speechless;  another words, they pictured Jesus as a man who gave them a good show.   They enjoyed Jesus but Jesus knew that if he defied their expectations, they would turn on him.

We need to keep this reality in mind when we look at the story of this desperate father.

We’re not told the exact conditions under which the father finally found Jesus but we are told of his plea for Jesus to come back with him.  The language is very strong, suggesting the man "begged" or "implored" Jesus to come.  Any parent can understand his desperation;   so, any parent can understood how he must have felt when Jesus refused to come. 

How could Jesus have been so indifferent?  How could he refuse?   To understand let’s take a look at the progress in this story.

The Call to Faith


What Jesus wanted was genuine faith from this father and from anyone who came to him.  Such faith included a proper understanding of who Jesus was.  At this point the father did not possess such faith.

Remember, he seems to have thought Jesus was just another miracle worker, like others who sometimes appeared on the Judean scene.  Some of these men were charlatans, but some seem to have possessed some kind of ability to bring about healing.  They may have possessed a rudimentary understanding of psychosomatic illness or they may have just had a knack for being in the right place at the right time so they could benefit from a sick person’s just getting better.  The people would have known nothing about psychosomatic illnesses; they thought these healers could change things just by being in the room.

This father seems to have seen Jesus in this way.  One clue  is his request that Jesus come back to Capernaum with him.  Apparently, it was firmly believed that the healer had to be present to heal.

This is why Jesus’ response was so unnerving.  It’s clear he was refusing to go.  His words were pointed:  “Unless you people see miraculous signs and wonders," Jesus told him, "you will never believe."

These critical words were addressed not just to that father from Capernaum but to all who had come to see what exciting things he would do.  Others may have been rebuffed by what Jesus said but this father wasn’t.  In fact, he seems to have heard something in Jesus words which encourage him to keep trying.  Lenski suggests that Jesus words were meant to convey a message which said, “Oh, that you were less concerned about miracles and more concerned about me.”

[I have some pastor friends in one of the Pentecostal denominations.  As you know, these folks have a strong faith in God’s power to heal.  Most Baptists believe God can heal, many Baptists believe God sometimes does heal.  The difference between us and the Pentecostals is, in some ways, a matter of expectation.  If someone were to be crass enough to ask a Baptist about the probabilities of God healing in a specific instance, we’d be likely to describe it as less likely than the average Pentecostal would.  Anyway, my Pentecostal friends tell me that they must sometimes warn their congregations about the danger of seeking the healing rather than the Healer.] 

That father from Capernaum seems to have heard Jesus say don’t focus on the healing, focus on me.

The father’s words in response to what Jesus said were much the same as before but his perspective seems to have changed.  Again, Lenski says that the man’s words now possess a “pleading reverence.”  But the real change is seen in his response to what Jesus says next.

Before we examine that response let’s look at something important happening in this story.

Jesus cared about this unnamed father despite the fact that he had a faulty theology.  Now it‘s important to see that Jesus did not leave his faulty thinking undressed; he offered a clear and pointed correction to his thinking.  If we would follow Jesus’ pattern, we would not reject any person as unreachable because their thinking might be faulty.  At the same time, we would be irresponsible to leave them in the grip of their false notions.

In an era when many are confused about what it means to believe in Jesus we need to look to this father to learn something about the character of faith.

The Character of Faith


 

How the father responded to what Jesus said helps reveal the character of the faith Jesus sought.  Jesus said to him, “Go, your son lives.''

How did he respond to Jesus?  The International English Bible puts it succinctly, “The man believed. He took Jesus at his word and left.”

He had gone from the superstitious notion that Jesus had to be present to do anything to understanding that this man’s power wasn’t limited by geography. 

The Galilean crowds "believed" only if they first saw, this man believed without first seeing.  He seems to have suddenly understood that Jesus' mighty works were "signs" pointing to identity; once that was established, his word should have been enough.

John can’t resist telling us what happened next. 

Jesus' words had been spoken early in the afternoon.  Even if the man started back to Capernaum immediately, he might have been forced to spend the night on the road since travel at night was often dangerous, due to robbers and wild animals.  His servants may have set out to retrieve their master as soon as it was certain the youngster was getting better or they may have set out early the next day.  In any case, the master was still on the road when he encountered his servants bringing the wonderful news of the boy's recovery. 

Had his servants known the purpose of his trip to Cana?  That's not clear. 

The man naturally inquired about the timing of the recovery.  In an age before clocks or other timepieces they were as precise as they could be, "Yesterday, about one o'clock, the fever left him."

The man then knew—and John lets us know—that this healing could be no mere coincidence. 

This man had come to understand what many Christians never fully understand.  Mature faith is rooted as much in what God says to us as it is in what we may or may not have had the privilege of seeing God do.

This takes us to the next stage of this story.

The Contagion of Faith


 

When the man got back home I can picture him finding his son sitting on his mother’s lap or playing with other children, laughing and healthy.  Things were back to normal.  But were they?  Do you suppose this man could ever forget his hurried trip to Cana?  Could he go on as if he had never met the remarkable Man from Nazareth?

The Gospels tell us that some who received Jesus’ blessings did forget, but not this man.

He told his family all that had happened.  And as a result all his family and household became believers.  Faith can be contagious.

There’s a cultural element which we should note.  In some cultures, the head of the household is so revered that his decisions establish the pattern for all other members of that household.  This may have happened here.  This doesn’t mean the faith of his family and servants was subnormal, it simply means they came to embrace that faith in a way which we Americans with our emphasis on individualism would find strange.  How they came to share his faith says nothing about the quality of their faith.  Robertson believes John is telling his readers that this household, a household with direct links to Herod’s court, had come to “complete faith in Jesus as the Messiah.”

Jesus appealed to all levels of society.  We see so many poor and powerless respond to him in the gospel that we forget he appealed to many in the upper classes as well.  During the so-called Domitian persecutions, one Christian executed was Flavius Clemens.[2]  He was a Roman consul and married to the emperor’s kinswoman, Flavia Domitilla.  While Flavius was executed, Flavia was exiled.  We don’t know what happened to their two sons, whom Domitian had designated as his heirs.  This prompted Harnack to write:  “What a change!  Between fifty and sixty years after Christianity reached Rome, a [grand]daughter of the Emperor embraces the faith, and thirty years after the fearful persecutions of Nero, the presumptive heirs to the throne were brought up in a Christian house.”[3]

Wouldn't it be wonderful to know what happened to this family in Capernaum once the gospel began to be preached?  As they began to hear the name of Jesus proclaimed by the earliest evangelists, they must have said to themselves, "We knew it--he was someone special."

In any case, John tells us that this was the “second sign” that Jesus performed after coming into Galilee.  Exactly what he means isn’t clear.  He himself tells us of other miracles.  I’d suggest John is trying to get us to pay special attention to the implications of this miracle, implications which go beyond the simple fact that it proved Jesus could heal over great distances.

 

Conclusion

This story has something important to tell us about the nature of faith.  It tells us that the quality of faith is measured by the degree to which we hear Jesus and take him at his word.
And, of course, taking him at his word honors him.

 

 

 

 

 

 



[1]  The exact meaning of that comment is debated.  In particular, it’s not clear what Jesus means by his “fatherland.”  One commentator lists some ten possible interpretations.
[2]  Technically, the couple was guilty of “atheism,” but historians believe this was an appellation for being Christians.
[3]  Bruce, p. 164.