“You were a Protestant. Now you are Catholic. What happened?”
One answer is that I became more aware of some key theological issues and my own presuppositions. I’ve elsewhere documented, and continue to document, a number of these presuppositions with specifics, but some general remarks about approach might prove helpful for the Protestant reader who wishes to explore what these presuppositions are, or for those who would simply like to better understand the matrix of reasons that justify Catholicism.
Imagine a spectrum that maps the rate at which people develop their mature theological convictions. On the one side, the absolute fastest way to arrive at firm theological convictions would be to commit yourself to the first option you encounter and put down roots. Although the simplest of options, the major disadvantage is that it hinders unity and fractures the singularity of truth by promoting (Christian) relativism, that is, it suggests that the truth may be different for different people because it is settled through the interaction between the market successes of one denomination (or family, i.e., one’s upbringing) and whatever level of theological consciousness one has been able to achieve. Some do this.
On the flip side of the spectrum, among the slowest of ways is to simply trudge along until you hit an unavoidable issue, mitigate it within your current theological paradigm or change if you can’t, and repeat the process over and over. Despite this approach’s basic ability to change course where needed, it tends to discourage commitment to interim options, and unless one is intentional and disciplined, it is possible to never arrive. Some do this.
But I suspect that a good chunk of us, who believe that truth matters to the soul and its destiny, fall somewhere in between. We want to commit, and often do, to what we understand in the present. However, an insistent and sobering realization gnaws at us, sometimes subtly, sometimes overtly. There are many “theological constellations” (i.e., a collection of beliefs about what Scripture says) to choose from on the smorgasbord of American Christianity, and these often resolve into different denominational identities. How do we know which is right, or most right? While we accept that, in theory, there must be some lucky folks who must get it right on the first try (provided there is a right one), the sheer number of options available suggests that the odds are against us being one of those lucky folks. Most of us recognize that nobody is born into theological maturity–that it must be earned. Those with sufficient theological education understand that full theological integration is not only a lengthy and disciplined enterprise but is probably unachievable. Therefore, it is prudent not to assume that our first “encounter” is the right one, nor that we even have the necessary skillset to discern the answer well. While unsettling, this is a shrewd (i.e., wise) and humble response to the two key facts on the table: our theological immaturity and the plethora of options before us. It is also one that pays at least some homage to unity because it provides a systemic way to “cross silos”, so to speak.
For some people, the insistent gnawing isn’t born of the intellect but from an inward restlessness–a vague and nagging sense of homelessness. They are not content with churches or movements that spring into existence and market something new and different, as if it were a good thing to be unanchored from the historical church, the living tradition, and real unity. But what should those who feel this way do? One cannot simply forego one’s doctrinal objections to a tradition with deeper roots. One cannot simply will away all the evidence and rational reflection that have formed one’s theological convictions and reasons for participating in the Christian denomination they do. So what to do?
The answer is neither as novel nor as shrouded in mystery as may initially seem: Educate yourself with humility.
There are a number of linguistic, exegetical, and theological issues that must be broached in some depth to fully appreciate both your theological location and that of Catholicism. The tough part is that it takes a long time to gain this appreciation because before the issues can be evaluated they must be introduced. And they must be introduced in such a way that we can ascertain their relevance and importance to the faith and to our common ecumenical mandate to pursue unity.
Although I finally feel at home, my journey was a winding one, and in retrospect, it took much longer than it needed to. In all likelihood, you (dear reader) are destined to stroll the same, winding path I strolled, unless you are more intentional about the process. So I have made it a goal to map one way through the tangle. For those who are interested in a shorter, quicker, more disciplined path to greater awareness of critical linguistic, exegetical, and theological issues, I would offer a reading list, and I would recommend a particular approach to the problem of ascertaining Christian truth in light of our disunity.
The reading list aims to bring into focus some of the primary issues, help you to develop a broader set of categories, and begin to see how those issues and categories cross-pollinate. The challenge is to get to the last items before the details of the first become too fuzzy to evaluate altogether. If too much time passes between the first and last items, the point and purpose of the approach I will recommend will suffer, as will pace and progression.
I spent a long time using the wrong approach: Discover an issue, answer it in a way that does not afflict my theological convictions, then repeat. To some degree, this is unavoidable, but there is a decisive advantage to a deductive, lay-it-all-out-first approach. Instead of haphazardly encountering one issue at a time, what if I could get a lay of the land first–a collection or survey of the many issues involved? That would give me a way to develop a personal, mental map to contextualize problems.
This deductive, intentional approach has another advantage. When you address one issue at a time without a mental map, you can (temporarily and prematurely) answer it with solutions that seem exegetically and theologically plausible in the moment (i.e., for the resolution of this one problem) but which will not work for other problems that you may not have yet realized, or realized fully, and one cannot readily recognize this trap without first having a lay of the land. Consider a topographical map of a mountainous maze. If you are on the ground, looking to get past the mountain in front of you, it may look equally good to go left, straight, or right, whereas a view from above reveals that only right will get you through.
So I have portrayed two general approaches, let’s call them: (1) sequential and (2) parallel. The “sequential” approach is characterized by methodically addressing one issue at a time. Issues are treated somewhat haphazardly, as they come along (often through challenge or conflict), and often have neither reference points nor relationship to other issues that will eventually arise. It comes in two varieties: one that remembers past issues and one that doesn’t (“sequential and separate”). On the other hand, the “parallel” approach is essentially the fulfillment of a deductive approach. It is characterized by the ability to treat multiple issues at the same time. Its requirement is that all the issues to be treated are available to the evaluator at the same time. This requires a separation between encounter and evaluation.
Now, one might argue that everything is ultimately sequential in the end. In one sense, sure, but by “parallel” I mean achieving a state of mind in which a ready memory recall of a map of the issues can be carried into the evaluation of details with a view to addressing multiple issues at once. Thus, while theological orientation and education may happen sequentially, theological evaluation ought to wait for a full vision of the issues and options.
In my view, this separation between encounter (i.e., theological orientation and education) and evaluation is a mandate in light of Jesus’ call to unity. The theological discipline is so vast and nuanced that the sequential method of evaluation may very well take longer than our lifespans. Another problem is that it facilitates forgetfulness, such that what is “sequential” very easily and essentially degenerates into “separate”–one issue is treated without awareness of the others. Let’s explore the dangers of this.
Let’s apply both methods to the encounter of two doctrines requiring evaluation that might arise in a truth-seeker’s experience: (1) the timing of baptism and (2) Calvinism.
(1) Timing of baptism. For simplicity, let’s confine our inquiry to the ideal timing of baptism. And let’s say it has to be either (a) as an infant or (b) post-conversion. Leave aside for the moment that other options exist, and leave aside that the mode and meaning of baptism affect its timing. Now, people will come to different conclusions based upon which Scripture passages they emphasize and how they interpret them. But whichever you embrace, it will remove some theological constellations from consideration, and that will have a consequence on the denomination you choose. Let’s say we embrace post-conversion baptism. If so, we would take exception to Catholicism, Orthodoxy, Anglicanism, Reformed/Presbyterianism, Methodism, etc., and viable options would become Baptist, Pentecostalism, Brethren, and “non-denominational” churches.
(2) Calvinism. Now, if one were staunchly Arminian, he would toss out of consideration overtly Calvinistic branches (Presbyterianism, Reformed, etc.). But technically, Calvinism itself represents a number of theological constellations (e.g., double-election Calvinist? 5-point Calvinist? 4-point Calvinist? which 4? 3-point Calvinist? which 3?). Let’s say we are rigid 5-point Calvinists. Now we have a problem with Catholicism, Orthodoxy, Anglicanism, Methodism, and most (though not all) churches of Baptist, Pentecostal, Brethren, and “non-denominational” persuasion. And our most viable options reduce to Reformed/Presbyterian (if we have forgotten our earlier credobaptism) or a few “unorthodox” non-denominational churches, if we have remembered them.
Now, consider the effects of our different approaches. Let’s say I employ the “sequential method” but separate out the evaluation of the two issues (i.e., sequential but separate method). My experience would look like this: I start either in the church of my youth or of my conversion, then I join a Baptist, Pentecostal, Brethren, or E-free church, based upon my view of the timing of baptism. Then once my Calvinism sets in, I forget why I formerly held so strongly to my convictions on baptism, and I change to a Reformed or Presbyterian church and live happily ever after…until I encounter the next issue. Three different churches.
Now, if I employ the “sequential method” but keep track of my credobaptist convictions, my experience would look more like this: first I’m either in the church of my youth or of my conversion, then I join a Baptist, Pentecostal, Brethren, or E-free church. Then once my Calvinism sets in, I remember that Reformed and Presbyterian churches baptize babies, and I try to find one of those few “unorthodox” non-denominational churches that hold both believer’s baptism and Calvinistic convictions (I attended one of these), and I live happily ever after…until I encounter the next issue. Three different churches.
However, if I employ the “parallel method” up front, that is, I evaluate both issues at the same time, first I’m either in the church of my youth or of my conversion, and I take some extra time up front to evaluate, and then I recognize that the only compatible place for me is the “unorthodox” non-denominational church, and I live happily ever after…until I encounter the next issue. Two different churches.
Now, in the simplest of cases above, where there are just two issues involved, the parallel method is only nominally advantageous. It has allowed for one less transition, but it may not seem much superior or faster. And the first approach (i.e., sequential and separate) appears almost ridiculous: why couldn’t somebody remember the basis for both convictions? However, once you acknowledge the hundreds of theological conclusions that must be drawn in the objective Protestant believer’s life, and that the combinations this produces quickly gets absolutely unwieldy for most people, we can appreciate that this is where most people dwell in real life, proceeding in a sequential and (largely) separate fashion.
On the contrary, the “parallel method” is epistemically and temporally advantageous. How?
Well, suppose we are trying to pick a church and have ten interpretive problems (Problems 1-10). We read a passage and realize that it can be interpreted to mean several things (Problem 1), and those things are consistent with, say, theological constellations A, B, C, D, E, M, O, P, R, V, and W. Then, let’s say you have another passage that can also be interpreted to mean several things (Problem 2), but those interpretive options are only consistent with theological options A, C, D, M, P, R, and W. The same for passage three; it is consistent only with theological options B, D, E, J, P, R, and V. Passage four is consistent only with options B, C, D, R, V, and W. Passage five only with options B, C, D, O, P, R, and W. Passage six with options A, C, D, O, P, R, and V. Passages 7-9 are only consistent with options B, C, F, G, H, O, P, R, V. And Passage 10 with A, B, M, N, R, V, Y, and Z. Even with just the above ten passages (three of which have identical options, so we have only eight different constellations), it becomes difficult to discern that the only option that is present for all passages is R. Imagine how difficult things get if you are using the sequential method! Imagine how much more difficult it is when we consider not ten but hundreds of verses and/or theological commitments!
It should be clear that the parallel method is the clear methodological winner because the fastest way to the most mature theological convictions is through (relatively) rapid and (relatively) shallow encounters with the full spread of issues, followed by a protracted period of evaluation in light of as many of the issues as possible. This is the approach I’m calling the “ecumenical approach” because it takes our division into account. It follows a route that separates theological encounter from evaluation. In so doing, in keeping humility coincident with our theological maturity, we not only honor what unity demands from us but we open pathways to greater understanding of our differences. This will make ecumenical discussion more fruitful and desirable. If my experience of theological maturation is in any way paradigmatic, once unity is properly esteemed and the issues are rigorously explored, the number of denominational options may shrink to just a few or even one. That’s what happened to me . . . eventually.
I wish I would have adopted the ecumenical approach earlier. Instead, due to the time demands of academic coursework, I followed a largely sequential path. It was far less efficient, and it might have lasted indefinitely. I wonder if the reason it ended at all owes to failure. After your doctorate, if you do not secure a post to the rigors of academic life, you suddenly find yourself with amped up production potential but little toward which to direct it. In my case, I focused upon my own theological integration. But the overall process took nearly fifteen years, and it seems to me that such a route is not only too cumbersome for most people but simply unnecessary.
To sum up, the best way to reach a theologically-informed end state is to allow the Spirit to interact with all the issues involved in the ecumenical debates. Get as many of the big issues out on the table as possible. This can be attempted via a “sequential method” which is slow and prone to forgetfulness, or it can be done with the ecumenical, parallel method I am suggesting: choose key resources, focus energy to get clarity on the issues thereby raised, and only then start to do peripheral reading to evaluate.
An exegetical example of this approach