Saturday, July 9, 2011

Why I am Catholic, Part I

Becoming Catholic is not like switching from Methodist to Christian Reformed.  Despite percieved differences between Protestant groups, essentially, they all have the same underlying premise: it is the individual interpretation of Scripture that reigns supreme.  When one finds that their interpretation is different from the group they frequent, they change groups, and generally, questions are not raised.  The phrase "whatever floats your boat" comes to mind.  More precisely, a quote from my mother is apt in expressing the Protestant mentality: "I'm glad you believe that so strongly, but that's not what I believe."  That attitude doesn't fly when one becomes Catholic from another Christian group.  For this reason, I'm embarking on a quest to explain my journey.

PART I: TRADITION

The human being is one of the only animals that is connected by a common, shared history.  By that I mean that different groups of people are united in means apart from blood and necessity: they can communicate a shared history.  For example, certain towns have traditions that connect the current residents with residents almost 100 years ago or more.  Such traditions create a sense of community and solidarity with people long gone.  Traditions could be such things as planned events (like county fairs), language (like certain words), or even architecture (common themes in certain buildings). One such example is the Passion Plays of Oberammergau, Germany (which were started during the 1350s, and still continue today).  Tradition plays a huge role in our understanding of ourselves and our worldview.  Tradition isn't just preserved in writings, it is preserved in actions, in buildings, in stories we tell our children, and in lessons we teach our children.  When we break with our traditions, we lose not only our understanding of who and what we are, but we lose a bit of our identity in the process.

My parents would probably be shocked to know that my journey to the Catholic Church started in my confirmation class when I was in 8th grade.  I've always loved history, and by that time, I was well aware that Christianity had existed for nearly 2000 years.  We were taught the basics of the Methodist faith, that the two Wesley brothers and George Whitefield in the 1700s, and their focus was on a personal experience with Jesus.  One thing caught my attention: Wesley and Whitefield were essentially breaking from an established tradition (the Anglican tradition).  Of course, as a child of 14, this made sense, because the Anglican tradition wasn't exactly on fire with the Lord...at least not that I was aware of in my studies.

As I began to learn about the Reformation, it became apparent that there existed a tradition that was far older than any I was familiar with (Lutheran, Reformed, Methodist, Baptist, Episcopalian, etc).  In addition to that, one of my best friends in 8th grade was Orthodox (perhaps, more specifically, Coptic, seeing as his family was from Egypt), which I knew went back before the Middle Ages.  Of course, I reasoned that this tradition must have been sick for new ones to form, but the complete abandonment of an ancient tradition (especially one that gave us such works of art as the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris, or the Sistene Chapel ceiling) didn't sit well with me.

My historical fascination has always been Europe from the fall of Rome to the onset of the Enlightenment.  Because of that, I was forced to recognize the beauty that eminated from the Catholic tradition: the exquisite architecture of the great Cathedrals, the music of Monteverdi, Beethoven, Mozart, and Palestrina, the paintings of Leonardo da Vinci and all the art of Michelangelo.  These great masterpieces didn't simply emerge out of nowhere.  Michelangelo and da Vinci had visible signs of a tradition of beauty present in the great Cathedrals of Europe.  There was also the intellectual tradition that eminated from the Church: Augustine, Anselm, Aquinas, and Abelard all drew from the same wellspring.  There were great moral figures that one could not ignore: Catherine of Sienna, Francis of Assisi and St. Benedict, whose lives helped shaped the fabric of all of Europe.

As my factual knowledge of European history grew, I could not deny that the Catholic Church existed before the Roman Empire fell.  I could not deny that the sense of tradition that Augustine had for his forefathers in faith was the same that Aquinas had, because he used the same forefathers.  I sensed an unbroken tradition that guided and shaped the course of Europe. 

What struck me, in particular, was the tenacity with which the Church maintained that tradition.  Sure, with all traditions, things gradually change over time, but with the Church it was different.  Additional pious practices weren't simply added because they looked cool, or fit with some popular theology (to be fair, often popular practices emerged that could be considered dubious, but approved pious practices weren't added willy-nilly).   Tradition was always a guide.  To me, the Church, by insisting on using tradition as a guide, existed Universally: it would be the essentially the same in 500AD as it would in 1500AD, uniting all peoples, past, present, and future into One Faith.

The true breaking point, at least on the issue of tradition, was an essay I was writing for my Sophomore History class whilst in college.  My professor posed the question: "Should there be a single interpreter for Scripture?"  I struggled to answer that question.  Initially, my response was a strong and resounding "NO!!"  To stay on point, I will steer clear of my rationale, and illuminate ONE reason why I could not, in good conscience, turn that paper in (after all, at the end of my first draft, I found myself believing the affirmative, while answering in the negative): Tradition, with a capital T. 

Up to this point, I have talked about tradition with a t, not Tradition with a T.  I will summarize the difference: Tradition is that entire body of faith (doctrine and dogma) passed down from Christ to the Apostles, and through the Apostles and their successors, the rest of the world; tradition refers to the practices and belief structures (discipline) that have been maintained.  Essentially, Tradition is the basis of tradition, and for this reason tradition is not easily thrown aside.

At some point in my attempt to answer the posed question in the negative, it dawned on me that the Catholic Church possessed an on-going understanding of Scripture, dating from before the time of Augustine (OK, confession time: at this point in my life, I was not ready to admit that the Catholic Church existed at the time of Pentacost...in fact, I had never really given it much thought.  To me, Christian tradition essentially began with Augustine, essentially because he was the most well known Christian Father in my circle of acquaintances and family, so to say that there was a tradition dating from the time of Augustine is REALLY big).  Above, I mentioned that to lose sight of tradition, to break with tradition is to lose sight of who we really are.  As I struggled to vehemently oppose some tyrannical oppression of free-thought by wrong-headed Catholic Church, the importance of tradition (and by extension, Tradition) overwhelmed me.  The Catholic Church possessed an ancient Tradition that brought with it wisdom and knowledge that individuals, on their own, lack.  I knew that the great Christian thinkers I admired during this period, Augustine, Anselm, and Aquinas were part of the Catholic hierarchy (Augustine and Anselm were bishops, whilst Aquinas was a priest), an thus part of that Tradition.

At the end of this particular academic exercise, the essential groundwork for my acceptance of Christ's Church had been laid.  Truly the Holy Spirit works in amazing ways.