Tradition played a big part in the Catholic Church's initial attraction to me. Being interested in history, I immediately saw its roots and its presence way back at the close of the Roman Empire. I remember reading in one of my many European history books that the structure of the Church that manifested itself in the West after the fall of Rome was instrumental in saving Western European civilization (in that it provided a structure for the disparate people's to fall back on in the presence of a political vacuum). Tradition (small t) provided an attraction, while authority provided a reason.
PART II: AUTHORITY
The Quest
As a teenager, one figure fascinated me: Pope John Paul II. I cannot state clearly enough how un-Catholic I was. I grew United Methodist, with a smattering of Evangelicalism and Christian Reformed thrown in for good measure. I knew nothing of Catholic ecclesial structure, and my medieval history in 6th grade completely ignored the office of bishop. The only understanding I had of a bishop was that my UMC region had a bishop...but it also had a superintendent as well, and I could never really tell the two apart. I was a member of our church's Pastor-Parish Relations Committee, which meant I was (if necessary) part of the group that would be privy to selecting a new pastor. I understood a congregational model as well as a heirarchical model of pastorship, in that in the UMC, the bishop (or was it superintendent?) would give us a choice of three or four candidates, and we would try them out and choose the one we liked best. If we didn't like any, the bishop (or superintendent) would choose for us.
With that in mind, my fascination with Bl. John Paul II can be explained in light of authority. His Holiness had a reputation for holiness and intelligence. He was also a lightning rod for publicity because of his personality. These were not what I focused on. To me, a Methodist youngster with no understanding of Petrine supremacy, or Apostolic Succession, the Pope (and intrinsically, I understood that JPII would pass away, and another man would take his place..it was the office I was drawn to, because of the person occupying it at the time) was THE spokesperson for all of Christianity. I grew up with experiences like a Clyde Dupin Crusade, and nearly weekly doses of Billy Graham. However, these gentlemen were national phenomenon; the Pope was Universal. No other Christian leader drew as much attention as the Pope. No other Christian leader drew crowds like the Pope. Intrinsically, I understood that if one wanted to discuss Christianity, THE person to go to would be the Pope.
Until college, the person of the Pope was simply a figure, a spokesperson, a trigger-man, so to speak. The issue of authority wasn't a big one. I was raised within the ethos of solo scriptura, but even within that ethos, the authority of a pastor to tell us what the Word of God was saying was paramount (after all, they had the years of theology and Scripture study...we did not). I understood that different people would invariably come to different understandings of Scripture, and I accepted that "the main things are the plain things and the plain things are the main things". It was within this mindset that my interest in authority grew.
The question on authentic and True interpretation of Scripture was front and center in my interest in authority. Quite quickly, I determined that for all its benefits, solo Scriptura was woefully inadequate. This was due in large part to the discrepancy between what Scripture clearly taught in terms of divorce and how mainstream churches were interpreting that. Essentially, I had read what Christ had to say about marriage and divorce: "what God has joined, let not man put assunder", and yet looked on with astonishment as not only the UMC, but other denominations not once taught the indissolubility of marriage, but also encouraged divorced couples to remarry, in clear violation of Scripture's definition such actions as adultery. Something was clearly amiss. Although not entirely sure of the process, I knew that in the UMC, doctrinal matters were voted on, ultimately, by members of the clergy and the laity. Something was wrong there (to whit, Christ never let His Gospel be open to interpretation or the democratic process, and there was a reason He referred to Heaven as the Kingdom of Heaven, and we all know that kingdoms are democratic).
Perhaps naively, I wanted some one to step in and declare, once and for all, what True Doctrine really was. I looked at the Pope and wondered why we as Methodists didn't have an authority figure like that. It seemed logical to me that we couldn't trust congregations, or an group of congregations to vote on what Scripture was teaching.
The Answer
The issue of authority was, finally, put to rest for me in a round-about way: while attending Mass with my girlfriend (now my wife), the priest's homily made mention of John 6: "Unless you eat of my Flesh and drink of my Blood, you shall not have life within you." As a Protestant, this was offensive. I was always taught that you didn't have to DO anything to be saved (with the exception of "accepting Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior"), and yet here I was being told that I needed to do something. I bristled at this for a while, a long while. I couldn't get over, however, how PLAIN John 6 really was. I tried the typical Protestant reaction to redact what Christ said in most of John 6 with what he says in the end: "It is the Spirit that gives life, and the flesh is of no avail...my words are spirit and life." Logically, however, I couldn't get past the fact that Christ Himself never redacted His statement.
One evening while in college, the local Catholic priest offered a question and answer session for those seeking the Catholic Church. My wife/girlfriend encouraged us to attend, so I could ask my question. My question was asked, and answered, but in all honestly, I walked away with something else: a sense of where authority lies. You see, another participant asked about Apostolic Succession, of which I had never heard. The concept, when explained, made perfect sense. To reject it, I thought, was to reject Reason.
The Apostles, whom all Christians acknowledge received their authority from Christ Himself, wouldn't live forever. It seems rather daft to assume that they would allow their flocks to sway in the breeze without some visible authority figure. Ordaining certain men to follow after them, with their authority, is a sure fire way of ensuring that Christians maintain the Gospel, in the absence of Scripture. It also helps establish what Scripture really means.
As I read the Acts of the Apostles, (as the priest suggested), it became clear that Christ gave ONLY the Apostles His authority. Only Peter raised someone from the dead, only Peter healed people, and only the apostles could send out demons. I then read, as the priest suggested, the Epistles to Timothy and Titus. It became increasingly clear that Paul wrote to those two men as an older brother, not as a father. He considered them his equals in authority. Not only that, but he mandates, at least to Timothy, that the authority they received be passed to worthy and upright men.
Clearly, Christ established a Church with authority, authority that passed down from generation to generation. I knew enough about the Reformation to realize that all Christian denominations broke from the Catholic Church. I knew enough about Medieval history to realize that prior to the Schism between the East and West, there was One, Holy, Catholic, Orthodox, and Apostolic Church. I recognized that it was the Catholic Church which existed before the Schism, and before the Reformation. It was the Catholic Church that existed before the fall of Rome.
Showing posts with label Why I am Catholic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Why I am Catholic. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
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.
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.
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