“In general, throughout the work, what is new is not good; and what is good is not new.” – Rev. Martin Sherlock, comments on reviewing a collection of letters (1781)

There is this constant obsession within certain clusters of the Evangelical tradition to re-invent the wheel when it comes to the style and format of church. Perhaps this perpetual motion stems from the Protestant mantra “reformed and always reforming,” though the historical context for that phrase has more to do with the integrity of Christian doctrine and theology. As both a church attendee and a leader in various ministry roles throughout my teen and adult life, the idea that the Church should constantly be reinventing herself is one I heard expressed frequently, though in sometimes subtle ways.

Every Sunday or Wednesday night “production” had to be better than the week before. Every semon had to leave an impression of the speaker, and every worship segment had to dazzle and move the audience to new emotional highs. This was my experience of Church – little aesthetic or ritual permanance, a lack of “sacred” spaces or activities, and almost nothing that couldn’t be overhauled and done differently the next week. Quite frankly, by my mid to late 20s I was exhausted by the never-ending expedition for a fresh expression of church.

Nowhere is this phenomenon more evident than in the American Evangelical church planting movement of recent decades. Every protestant church planter that I have encountered has one thing in common with the others: they are sincerely seeking the best expression of “church” that could exist. They may start at different vantage points or by asking different questions. Some might be seeking the thing that they believe their current expression of church is missing; others may be trying to bring in seekers, attempting to identify the fundamental quality that will make the non-churched want to belong to a church community. I remember being part of those conversations, earnestly asking questions about how to repair broken church models. However, some solutions (good ones) that various leaders came up with were often accompanied by a statement or implication that caused me pause: “This is the way the Church was really meant to be.”

During my time questioning many of the practices and beliefs within the Evangelical tradition, it seemed to me that the current church-planting movement in America was opperating on one or both of the following assumptions: (1) that orthodox Christianity has essentially gotten it wrong for 2000 years; and (2) that what may have worked during certain periods of history is now in need of an overhaul or an “update.” Honestly, neither of these assumptions ever really sat well with me, but I had no logical basis for them not sitting well.

After all, I grew up within the Evangelical tradition generally, and no one denomination in particular. Every church that I had ever attended represented a split-off of a split-off of a split-off. The very nature of the Evangelical movement involved a diversity of expressions of church and denominations of Christianity, within the parameters of a Fundamentalist or Evangelical confession of faith. So the idea of continually trying “new” things was not foreign to the overall tradition in which I was raised. That tradition lacked a significant amount of history, and as a result, I grew to realize that I completely lacked a historical understanding of orthodoxy. I was largely ignorant of the centuries of church history that built the tenets of Christian faith that I (and other Evangelicals) took for granted in present day American Christian cultures.

As I became more aware of my lack of historically comprehending my faith, I was forced to identify a troubling aspect of the books that I was reading on Christianity – the books that most young evangelicals and post-evangelicals were reading; they lacked a historical comprehension of the faith as well. These books were mostly really new and theologically and intellectually “light.” Rob Bell, Erwin McMannis, Don Miller, and Brian McLaren were having an impact on my generation. They were saying things that resonnated with young adults – making them think about their faith in ways that they never had before. However, (like Sherlock’s quote above) the problem I came to identify was that some of the good things that they were saying were in no way new (they were centuries old), and some of the new things that they were proposing were not really all that good.

For example, Rob Bell scandalized many theologically conservative Protestants with his 2011 publication of Love Wins: A Book about Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived. In that book he posed many questions about how we know who will be in heaven or hell, who gets “saved” or not, whether or not everyone makes it to heaven, etc. Essentially, anyone who tracks with John Piper or holds to the doctrine of Predestination (and certainly the idea that some are Predestined for hell) would write-off Bell just a few pages into the book.

However, for many young evangelicals (and not so young ones), these were questions they had themselves wrestled with privately, having been given only simplistic pastoral explanations of how salvation functioned in Christianity. Many people had asked similar questions: Will my relatives who never set foot in church but were the kindest people I had ever met not be in heaven with me? What about those people in the world who have never heard of Jesus? Does the murdering rapist who on his deathbed makes a confession of faith in Jesus end up in heaven too?

These are good questions! They are natural questions, and many Evangelicals I knew were so intrigued to hear a Christian pastor/author bluntly asking them. However, they are not in anyway new questions, and Rob Bell’s ideas on the subject are by no means original and not terribly developed. Theological discussions about heaven, hell, the existance of both, and how people end up in either place date back centuries. There is a rich body of theological discussion and doctrine on these topics, thanks to centuries of Catholic and Orthodox thought and Church councils. However, somehow Bell managed to write a whole book about these issues without referencing much of the vast theological dicussions or many of the significant theologians that contributed to them.

There seemed to be two different, yet common, responses to Bell’s book. There were those who called him a heretic and lamented his decent from orthodoxy, and then there were those who thought Bell had unearthed new theological ground. Both responses from various Protestant and Evangelical groups shared one thing in common – a Christian paradigm that lacked a solid historical framework for the development of orthodox thought.

I also operated according to such a paradigm most of my Christian life, and since my realization of this deficit in my faith perspective I have come a long way. But I often think that I’m making up for lost time as a new Catholic. There is so much richness to be discovered – so much beautiful history of the development and preservation of Church doctrine that I often find myself regretting the years I spent ignorant of it. Yet, at the same time, the more I uncover at this point in my life the more precious it is to me. It’s a grace.

While my experience in the various Evangelical circles in which I was raised revealled a startling lack of historical perspective, that certainly does not mean that I think all Protestant groups or individuals lack a historical knowledge of the development and preservation of Christian doctrine, as I did. Moreover, those Protestant groups and individuals that have a richer historical framwork seem much less prone to constantly overhaulling the style and format of “church.”

My personal inquiry into Church history led me to become Catholic; but there are many Protestant friends I have with a strong understanding of Church history who have not come to the same theological conclusions. I am, and always will be, an ecumenical Christian who embraces and strives for Protestant-Catholic dialogue. My hope is that, through continued dialogue, others—Protestants and Catholics alike—will seek to deepen the historical framework for their Christian faith. In doing so, they may discover—as I did—some very good aspects of the Christian tradition that are not new at all; and in turn, they may abandon novel pursuits that are revealled to lack sufficient good.

____________________________

References:

Bell, Rob. Love Wins: A Book about Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived. New York: HarperCollins, 2011.

Sherlock, Rev. Martin. Letters on Several Subjects. Vol. 2, Letter XIV, pp. 128 -129. London: J. Nichols, T. Cadell, P. Elmsly, H. Payne and N. Conant, 1781.

No. Well, obviously at some point close to conversion I had to actually consider becoming Catholic. However, growing up, the thought had never crossed my mind. I didn’t really know any Catholics. I had encountered some as literary figures. I occasionally met former Catholics within the Evangelical churches of my youth. Most of them seemed to be from Catholic-in-name-only families who never encountered the person of Christ until their adult experiences inside the Evangelical Tradition. But I didn’t personally know any practicing Catholics, and it never occurred to me in my adolescence or college years to explore Catholic Church teaching. So, did I ever think I would become Catholic? No.  That is not a “no” out of any previous anti-Catholic sentiment. It just wasn’t anywhere on my radar, and I was truly completely ignorant of Catholicism (and church history in general). In fact, had someone told me I would become Catholic 10 years ago, they would probably have gotten the same blank look in response as if they had told me I would be moving to a remote island and living in a tent for the rest of my days. Interactions with Catholicism were just not part of my world.

At least, encountering real Catholicism was foreign. In the absence of learning about Catholicism from any primary sources in my youth, the snippets I gathered were from well-meaning Evangelical leaders and Sunday School teachers. Unfortunately, these descriptions amounted to some of the common misconceptions of Catholics and Catholicism that circulate within some Protestant groups and churches:

“Catholicism is a cult;” “Catholics worship Mary;” and “the Pope is the Anti-Christ.”

So, since I didn’t plan to join a cult, worship Mary, or get involve in the same organization as the possible Anti-Christ — no, I never thought about becoming Catholic.

However, as I got closer to converting a few years ago (and in the time since), two things have become clear to me: (1) many Evangelical Protestants in the tradition in which I grew up hold a view of Catholicism that is based largely on misconceptions of the Church’s teaching, and (2) many lapsed or former Catholics that ended up in Evangelical churches (at least most of the ones I have met) hold either similar misconceptions or significant ignorance of what the Catholic Church (and Catechism) actually teaches. Why is this the case? Well, there are numerous reasons. Some people, no matter what tradition or denomination they are from, simply are not that intellectually curious about investigating matters of faith and theology. They will take the word of someone they trust–a pastor, Sunday School teacher, Priest, Catholic school teacher, an outspoken peer, a friend–and never investigate primary sources of information for themselves.

Others have grown up in nominally Christian or Catholic homes, lacking a rich and authentic faith experience at the domestic level. Certainly some Catholics or former Catholics I have met (who know very little actual Church teaching) came from homes that did not regularly practice their faith and only attended church a few times a year. The equivalent happens in Protestant traditions as well. If this is your childhood experience of faith–whether Protestant or Catholic–it is not hard to see how young adults start searching for a different experience in another denomination or tradition, mistakenly thinking that their experience mirrors the actual Church teaching or prescribed practice.

Another significant cause of misconceptions of the Catholic faith–particularly for non-practicing or lapsed Catholics–is that they were never properly Catechized (instructed in the teaching of the Catechism of the Catholic Church). Perhaps they grew up during the “beige Catholicism” of the 60s and 70s. Perhaps they lived in a geographical area or belonged to a particular parish that would not be described as “faithfully” Catholic. Regardless of the reasons, and there are many, numerous misconceptions of Catholicism certainly exist today–among both Protestants and Catholics. I have first-hand knowledge of this, both as a former Protestant and a current Catholic.

For plenty of years I let such misconceptions fed to me go unchecked. It wasn’t until I started investigating various misgivings I had about my own tradition that I started to realize I had allowed myself to remain quite ignorant of both Catholic doctrine and Church history in general. I had taken so much of my faith–and major aspects of orthodox Christianity–for granted my whole life. I never stopped to ask who was responsible for preserving my faith over the centuries, how and why various doctrines came to be, or where and when the precious Scriptures were assembled and preserved for the ages. I only got beyond superficial misconceptions of the Catholic faith once I started actually studying it. Ultimately, it was my responsibility to do so, because–ultimately–I will be responsible before God for the faith that I have practiced. Most of us have negative religious experiences somewhere in our lifetimes; it is an unfortunate common occurrence in any denomination. There are plenty of erroneous sources of theology and plenty more incorrect examples of “faithful Christian living.” But we will never get past these misconceptions of other faith traditions if each of us doesn’t do his or her part to investigate the truth.

Why is it important for misconceptions to be erased? Because Protestants and Catholics will have a hard time entering into true dialogue, and thereby edifying each other in lasting ways, if they are not. There certainly are significant differences between Catholic and Protestant theology, and those will remain regardless of misconceptions being rectified. But isn’t it important that we know what our fellow brothers and sisters in Christ actually believe? There are plenty of Protestants I know who will probably never become Catholic, even though they rightly understand Catholic Church teaching and doctrine. But they are able to dialogue with their Catholic friends and partner with them on various projects and causes in the world because they rightly understand them and their theological perspectives. For me, resolving my misconceptions of Catholicism was the first step to becoming Catholic; for others, it may be the first step to discovering fellow Christ-followers who can enrich your own faith and partner with you on common causes for the Kingdom. I’ll take either outcome.

For some months now, I have been meaning to get started on drafting my conversion memoir. This June will mark the second anniversary of our coming into the Catholic Church, and I think that by then is a good timeline to shoot for completion. I have been dying to get into this project, but my challenge has been juggling the various other research/writing projects on my plate. In addition, I enjoy (attempting) to post regularly on this blog as well, because I find this medium a cathartic and discipline-forming writing practice. And yet, as I like to say, we can’t do it all at the same time.

So here’s my creative solution. For the next several months this blog is going to be used exclusively to “workshop” segments of my conversion memoir. I won’t be posting on any other topics; although, these entries will actually cover a lot of topics — basically all the various questions/musings/revelations/steps-along-the-way that I experienced before becoming Catholic. So, that is actually a lot of interesting stuff. Just so you readers are tracking with me — I don’t expect every entry to be chronological. Also, I don’t know that every entry on the blog will even end up in the final draft of the book, but I think this format will help me think through parts of the journey that were most meaningful and significant. I think that I can then reformat and edit these entries into the substance of chapters for the final memoir.

In addition to helping to fine-tune concepts for the final book, I see a couple of other benefits to this “workshop” approach on the blog. First, I have had many friends and family pose numerous questions about our decision to convert to Catholicism, and I have welcomed them with excitement! In fact, that is one of the main reasons I want to write this book, because so many of their questions cannot be answered in a 15-minute conversation. So my hope is that friends who have been curious about various aspects of my/our conversion will get to have some insights in small doses, without having to wait for me to finish the book.

Second, readers can comment on the blog! I like the idea that people can read the entries and respond with questions they have. No doubt I will explain things in ways that make sense to me–given aspects of my background–but are not clear to others. Having this blog format allows readers to comment on what concepts are not clear or ask further questions about a topic or issue that they find particularly interesting. I think that this aspect will be particularly beneficial in helping me hone my audience for the book, as well as get to know that audience better. In case the question has crossed your mind…no, there is no chance the discussion in the “comments” on Protestant/Catholic differences could go of the rails at any time. 🙂 Oh, well. I’ll take that risk. If need be, I suppose I can always switch on “moderate comments.” Hopefully, that won’t be necessary.

So, that’s the plan. I look forward to sharing, and you sharing your feedback with me. Now to pick a jumping off point for the first entry…