After listening to a number of Gavin Ortlund’s videos, it seems clear to me that he cares about ecumenical unity and respectful dialogue. Commendably, Gavin’s demeanor and approach, his attempts to be fair, and his willingness to converse at more than a superficial level are worthy of emulation. Would that I could achieve half of his good will.
With respect to bad (i.e., incompetent) and inappropriate (i.e., hateful) responses to his material, I want to express my support and a rounded appreciation for Gavin’s conduct. He has sidelined unhelpful responses with an admirable resilience in order to focus on the good ones. I hope all Christians can appreciate his fortitude and demeanor here. Would that we could all achieve the patient and irenic attitude that he exhibits.
Fun Facts: How Gavin and I Are Similar
First and foremost, I detect the same respect for truth and love of unity that undergirds the seriousness with which he conducts his ecumenical dialogue. Let this be the most fundamental and all-sufficient accolade and point of commonality, far out shadowing what follows.
Second, (chances are) we both grew up Protestant. This is my assumption for a few of the below reflections.
Third, we both have seminary degrees, his from Covenant Theological Seminary, mine from Dallas Theological Seminary. This suggests that we both have hearts oriented toward and crafted for love and service of the church. He is currently a pastor.
Fourth, we both have a Ph.D. in historical theology, his from Fuller Theological Seminary, mine from Saint Louis University, and we both graduated around the same time (2016 vs. 2018). Neither of us has secured a permanent academic post (that I can tell). This was probably an intentional choice on his part.
Fifth, I understand very well (and am still irritated by) Catholic ignorance and misrepresentation of Protestantism. At the same time, Protestantism is very diverse, and much of what may be said about it applies only to parts of it.
Sixth, we are both writers, though he is demonstrably and considerably more prolific. Well done Gavin. Well done.
Fun Facts: How Gavin and I Are (Possibly) Different
First, while degrees in historical theology usually sample from all periods of the church, they invariably specialize at the doctoral level. Gavin’s dissertation on Saint Anselm suggests that his predominant graduate coursework fell within the Medieval period. My concentration was the patristic period (through ~600 C.E.) and my dissertation was on Origen of Alexandria. His 2020 monograph on Saint Augustine suggests that he has forayed into the late patristic/early medieval period, at least its primary source material.
Second, I do not know what Gavin’s Master’s degree was in, but one of my concentrations was New Testament studies, which opened up a wilder and more fruitful set of interpretive and theological options and considerations. It was through the study of Scripture that Catholicism entered the realm of theological possibility for me.
Third, I believe Gavin has been a Protestant for nearly four decades (I would guess he’s around 40). I was also a Protestant for over four decades until my 45th year, until I felt compelled by theological, exegetical, and historical considerations to become Catholic.
Fourth, I do not know Gavin’s experience, but I was something of a theological mutt. I have worked out my Christianity within the doctrinal frameworks of multiple Protestant paradigms: Presbyterian, Baptist, non-denominational, and Pentecostal.
This means that I can speak authoritatively about the negatives of Protestantism in a way that Gavin cannot truly speak about Catholicism. Why? I’ve been on its inside for many years and still love many of its churches, heroes, and people.
This also means that I am less likely to misrepresent Protestantism than my Catholic friends, YouTubers, and ecumenists who have grown up Catholic, with little experience of Protestantism. While misrepresenting Protestantism is still possible, even for Gavin or myself, most of my criticisms were seeded and flowered in the crucible of evangelical Protestant church life.
The American Protestant ecumenist objector (hereafter, the APEO) might retort, “Ahh, Adam, your criticisms are more against American evangelicalism than Protestantism.” If I am a bit more critical of American evangelicalism than other expressions of the Protestant faith, it is because I have been closer to it. But this argument holds no water for two reasons.
Reason 1: It is not the boon for the APEO that it would seem. You, O APEO, cannot have your cake and eat it too. Either Protestantism claims American evangelicalism in its fold, or it does not. If it does, it must field the criticisms against it. If Protestantism will not claim American evangelicalism, it would excise most of American Protestant Christianity. This seems quite far from what the Protestant ecumenist (given its doctrinal distinctives) should be willing to accept. We are also left wondering, who then gets to represent Protestantism? And more difficult to answer, who gets to decide who gets to represent Protestantism? And perhaps most difficult of all: how ought we to define Protestantism, who gets to define it and decide its boundaries, and do those definitions and boundaries have within them the power to sustain unity? In my view, both the dogma and history of Protestantism have demonstrated that it really cannot answer these questions in any compelling way. No, in the end, I think Protestants have to claim American evangelicalism. Indeed, specific Protestant distinctives (e.g., sola scriptura, anti-clericalism, doctrines of justification, etc.) quite naturally lead to and empower modern expressions of evangelicalism.
Reason 2: My strongest critiques do not merely apply to evangelicalism but to most Protestant systems. They are largely fueled by at least these convictions: (1) the negative practical consequences of these distinctives or their impotence to create saints, (2) their lack of antiquity, lack of tradition, or historically-divorced perspective, (3) their failure to secure balanced biblical support, and (4) what unity means for hermeneutics. At some point I hope to elaborate on each of these.
Last point of difference, Gavin reminds me of the little brother of a close childhood friend. Who, I wonder, do I remind him of?