Saturday, October 19, 2024

Is There Only One True Church? (Part 1)


I recently had a discussion with my sister—a devout Roman Catholic, of the very best kind—about how one could plausibly assess the contention made by her church to be the one true church and the exclusive, fully legitimate heir of Christianity’s apostolic foundations (a title to which, contrary to the Catholics, the Eastern Orthodox and Oriental Orthodox churches also lay claim). I was, as one might imagine, skeptical of such claims, though I love Catholicism and Orthodoxy for their rich traditions of piety and their steadfast adherence to the core doctrines of the patristic age. But unlike some Protestant skeptics, who are content to brush off the exclusivist claims of apostolic churches as mere hubris, I desperately want to know the truth of the matter: Which church, if any, is closest to what Jesus intended? Is there a “one true church” among the proliferation of Christian denominations, and if so, how might one discern it?

Terminology

It might be useful to start with a couple notes on terminology. I’m using the term “denomination” to designate each Christian group. Some communions don’t think of themselves as denominations, either because they see themselves as the one true church, rather than one among many (à la Catholics and Eastern Orthodox), or because they prefer to think of themselves as a “movement” (like some recent Protestant arrivals, such as Calvary Chapel). Unfortunately for their preferences, “denomination” is a word that entirely fits the bill, so it’s the one I’m going to use. It simply means “a group with a name,” as they all quite obviously are.

I’m also going to use the term “apostolic” in this piece, which refers to denominations that can trace their lineage and governance back in a direct line to churches founded by the apostolic generation of the first century. For the purposes of this piece, I will refer to denominations which feature an undeviated line (that is, being always in communion with the apostolic foundation from which their line was originally traced) as “apostolic churches.” These would include the Roman Catholic Church, the Eastern Orthodox churches, and the Oriental Orthodox churches. These are distinguished from what I’m calling “apostolic communions,” which maintain an unbroken line of descent and governance from apostolic foundations (usually mediated through ecclesiastical structures like the office of bishop), but deviated by separations in communion from their original apostolic source. Major examples of this would be the Church of the East (formerly called Nestorian), the Old Catholic churches, and the Anglican Communion, all of which preserved the lineage of traditional ecclesiastic orders even during their breaks with the apostolic sees from which they came, and so can trace the succession of their ordinations in a direct line back to the apostles.

One True Church?

Two broad types of claims are usually made. When an apostolic church claims a position as the one true church that Jesus founded, it is usually appealing to its history of direct descent from the apostles. Every other church, in their view, branched off from the one true church either by abandoning a crucial element of Christian doctrine or by choosing to break communion with the apostolic foundation over some other matter. Ironically, all of the apostolic churches generally hold this view with regard to themselves: namely, that they are the ones who stayed connected to the apostolic foundation, and everyone else chose to break off at some point. They hold that communion could be reestablished, but only if everyone else gave up major parts of their theological distinctives in order to align with the practices of the "original" group. You can imagine the apostolic church as a giant iceberg which has, over time, split into several smaller icebergs, and all the penguins on each iceberg believe that theirs is the original piece, from which all the others broke off.

The other type of claim comes from a small set of Protestant churches which regard their own doctrine and practice as representing the one true church. In this view, most of Christian history was an exercise in going astray, starting immediately after the apostolic age, and it was only when their own branch’s founder rediscovered the core of true doctrine that authentic Christianity re-emerged. Such churches base their claim primarily on the principle of biblical adherence, arguing that their own practice best matches that laid out in the New Testament. While this now tends to be something of a fringe position in Protestantism, a fairly broad swath of Protestant churches had their beginnings in a belief like this. My Baptist communion would not usually claim to be the only true church nowadays, but one doesn’t need to read that far back in Baptist history to find such a claim being made.

It might be tempting, on looking at the churches making these claims, to dismiss them with a wave of the hand. It seems a little silly, after all, that all the churches in each group are making the exact same claim about themselves, despite the many manifest differences between them. They can’t all be right, and thus many observers are content to shrug the matter off. 

But if there is one true church--or even just a church that most closely accords to God's intention--then I would very much like to know. It seems rather important that if there is one, then I should try to be a part of it. So I’m working through how one might assess the rival claims of all these different churches. Is there a communion of Christians that constitute the one true church in the world today? Or, on the other hand, is it the case that the one true church is simply the mystical Body of Christ, composed of all faithfully believing Christians, regardless of which visible communion they belong to? Either way, it seems an important question to try to get right.

Assessing the Evidence: Historical, Biblical, Experiential

Three main types of arguments are used to back up the claim that one’s own church is the right one:

1.) Historical arguments: “We’re directly descended from the original church and never separated from it, so that must mean we’re the true church.”

2.) Biblical arguments: “Our theological distinctives offer the clearest presentation of New Testament doctrine and practice of any church body, so that must mean we’re the true church.”

3.) Experiential: “The Holy Spirit works in our midst in such-and-such a way, and we experience this or that kind of miracle, clearly showing that God’s supernatural stamp of approval is on us.”

Each of these arguments faces challenges: for the historical and experiential arguments, it’s commonly the plurality of denominations that causes the most difficulty for making an exclusivist case, since there are usually other groups that can boast similar historical records and miracle stories. For the biblical argument, it’s the ambiguity of certain aspects of biblical interpretation that causes the most difficulty—it’s hard to make the case that your interpretation on a particular point is clearly the right one when, again, there are other denominations making equally impassioned and theologically plausible arguments for their own view of the same passages.


(To be continued…Next time we’ll examine each of the three types of claims using the case study of our quirky big sister in the faith, the Roman Catholic Church.)

Saturday, October 12, 2024

The Evangeliad (30:1-3)


Section 30:1-3 (corresponding to Luke 14:7-9)

Jesus looked round the room, then spoke these words,
Advising the men on what he'd observed:
"When you are invited to a feast, my friends,
Don't seek out the table's most honored end.

You want for yourselves a prestigious spot,
But vanity's shame will be all you got
When you're moved by the host to the lowest seat,
Where common folk and humility meet.

For what if a guest more honored than you
Should come through the door, then isn't it true?--
The host would come and unseat you himself,
To give the best spot to somebody else.

Tuesday, October 08, 2024

Changes to My Blog


After several years of posting on a daily (or near-daily) basis, I'm going to scale back my presence on this blog, moving to a weekly pattern. The quotes, photos, and prayers will be going away, at least for a little while (reasons for this shift can be found below). Nevertheless, a few things will remain the same:

- I will continue posting new sections of my Evangeliad poem, partly because I've found that keeping a scheduled posting habit has kept me moving on the project, and it likely has at least a couple more years to go. Those poems will now be posted near the end of each week. 

- Sermon podcasts will no longer be posted directly to this blog, but you can easily access them by going to my church's website (calaisbaptist.org), and clicking the "Sermons" tab. There is a permanent link to the church website on the sidebar of this blog (if you're viewing the desktop version of the page).

- I will also occasionally post essays, though not on an every-week basis. Essays were one of the staples of this blog a few years back, and I had moved away from them because of time constraints, but I found that I greatly enjoyed the handful of essays I wrote after coming home from my England trip. Every once in a while, then, you can expect to see an essay (and maybe, just maybe, a new hymn!).

Two main motivators are driving this shift: first, my schedule has changed significantly in the past two years, making an every-day posting habit difficult to maintain. I'm now working part-time teaching classes and writing books in addition to my pastoral ministry (in fact, I have a new book manuscript under contract right now, and it will command much of my time until December). Reducing the time given to the blog will enable me to take one small thing off the mountain of little demands that make up my life. At the same time, it will also free up the blog to highlight some of the projects that develop on a more sporadic basis.

Second, and perhaps more importantly, I'm committed to radically cutting down the amount of time I spend looking at digital screens this year. This week marks two years since the beginning of my oblate novitiate (and nearly a year as a full monastic oblate). I'm working to bring some of the practices of my life more in line with the wisdom of the monastic tradition, which is characterized by patience, listening, and leaving margins of silence and contemplation in one's daily life, to more readily recall oneself to the awareness of God's presence. The ubiquity of screens in our modern life--from smartphones to laptops to TVs hooked up to streaming platforms--tends to work the other way, filling up all the available margins with an incessant stream of articles, shows, games, posts, and trivialities. I'll still have to use my computer for necessary research and communication, and I'll still engage in watching an occasional show, movie, or sporting event as a communal activity with others, but that's where I'm drawing the line. For the next year, I'll be reducing my exposure to screens down to just two roles: necessary tasks and communal hospitality. 

Cutting back on some of my blog-posting schedule will enable me to stay away from the computer more consistently, and the creative pieces that I'll continue to post--poems, and the occasional essay or hymn--are things that can be entirely composed elsewhere (by hand or with my gloriously old-fashioned word-processor, which features nothing but a four-line text display). So look for (at the very least) a weekly Evangeliad post, and an occasional extra piece every now and then. I'll of course have weeks during vacations where I'm not posting anything, and I'll probably not announce those breaks formally anymore; just look for the normal posts to resume in a week or two weeks' time if there's a gap. I'll also certainly continue using the blog to keep readers apprised of new books and articles that may be coming out shortly, so keep an eye out for that.

Wednesday, September 25, 2024

The Evangeliad (29:43-38)


Section 29:43-48 (corresponding to Luke 14:1-6)

Once, in the home of a chief Pharisee,
Where Jesus had come to talk and to eat,
They watched all the things he would do and would say,
To catch him in error on that Sabbath-day.

And there in their midst stood a man in pain,
Stricken with dropsy, swollen, aflame;
So Jesus regarded the man and the crowd,
And their silent question he uttered aloud:

"Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath-day?"
But they were silent, had nothing to say.
So Jesus reached out, and with a touch,
He healed the man and bade him get up.

Then after sending the healed man away,
He looked at the crowd and had this to say:
"If on the Sabbath your ox or your son
Fell down a well, the decision is done--

You'd pull them right out, and not even wait,
For such precious things must be saved straightaway."
Then no word of rebuke would anyone say,
Nor lift up their eyes to challenge his gaze.

Tuesday, September 24, 2024

Photo of the Week


So is my word that goes out from my mouth: 
It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.

- Isaiah 55:11

Monday, September 23, 2024

Quote of the Week


"If you want to know who God is, look at Jesus. If you want to know what it means to be human, look at Jesus. If you want to know what love is, look at Jesus. If you want to know what grief is, look at Jesus. And go on looking until you’re not just a spectator, but you’re actually part of the drama which has him as the central character."

- N. T. Wright