I’ve grown fond of describing myself as a “Mere Christian.” Makes me feel all “Lewisian,” I guess. That’s always a good thing…Lewis-ian. Not sure how to spell it, but you know what I mean.
N. T Wright has tempted me with Simple Christian, but this sounds to much like Simpleton, and it’s a tactical blunder to draw undue attention to one’s weaknesses. I’ll stick with Lewis’ designation.
By Mere Christian our dear brother meant to indicate the ground common to all Christians.
Nothing fancy.
Nothing extra.
Just “the stuff.”
It’s a sort of modern Vincentian Canon (Quod ubique, quod semper, quod ab omnibus creditum est- What has been believed everywhere, always, and by all); it has all the weaknesses and attractions of the same. On the plus side we have an acknowledgement and affirmation of the essentials- along with the history that formed them. On the negative side we have the ambiguity created by the sheer simplicity of “everywhere, always and all.”
Everywhere and always…really? And what about “all”- all of what?
Doesn’t seem very helpful; does it? But I think that St. Vincent was assuming presuppositions that we would tend to question. He knew what belief in a truly catholic church meant. He could point to one.
If we were asked to point at the catholic church, we’d end up indicating a body that is oxymoronically called Roman, yet universal. A part of the catholic church, for sure, but not the whole shebang. That’s a problem for the modern application of St. Vincent’s formula- and for Lewis’, as well.
So I thought it might be helpful to make explicit what I mean by the term “Mere Christian." In a nutshell, it seems important to me that we restore St. Vincent’s presuppositions. We need to know “where and by whom” the “always” has been believed.
The fullest measure of the radically least is fourfold. (Yeah, I know. I had to reread that a couple of times, too.) The recipe requires four ingredients. Here's how I figure it-
(1) The Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments, as "containing all things necessary to salvation," and as being the rule and ultimate standard of faith.
(2) The Apostles' Creed, as the Baptismal Symbol; and the Nicene Creed, as the sufficient statement of the Christian faith.
(3) The two Sacraments ordained by Christ Himself--Baptism and the Supper of the Lord--ministered with unfailing use of Christ's words of Institution, and of the elements ordained by Him.
(4) The Historic Episcopate, locally adapted in the methods of its administration to the varying needs of the nations and peoples called of God into the Unity of His Church.
The one, holy, catholic and apostolic church is that community which is entered into by baptism, fed and sustained by Christ in the Eucharist and committed to living the story attested to…by the bishops who trace their authority to Christ and his twelve apostles.
By Mere Christian our dear brother meant to indicate the ground common to all Christians.
Nothing fancy.
Nothing extra.
Just “the stuff.”
It’s a sort of modern Vincentian Canon (Quod ubique, quod semper, quod ab omnibus creditum est- What has been believed everywhere, always, and by all); it has all the weaknesses and attractions of the same. On the plus side we have an acknowledgement and affirmation of the essentials- along with the history that formed them. On the negative side we have the ambiguity created by the sheer simplicity of “everywhere, always and all.”
Everywhere and always…really? And what about “all”- all of what?
Doesn’t seem very helpful; does it? But I think that St. Vincent was assuming presuppositions that we would tend to question. He knew what belief in a truly catholic church meant. He could point to one.
If we were asked to point at the catholic church, we’d end up indicating a body that is oxymoronically called Roman, yet universal. A part of the catholic church, for sure, but not the whole shebang. That’s a problem for the modern application of St. Vincent’s formula- and for Lewis’, as well.
So I thought it might be helpful to make explicit what I mean by the term “Mere Christian." In a nutshell, it seems important to me that we restore St. Vincent’s presuppositions. We need to know “where and by whom” the “always” has been believed.
The fullest measure of the radically least is fourfold. (Yeah, I know. I had to reread that a couple of times, too.) The recipe requires four ingredients. Here's how I figure it-
(1) The Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments, as "containing all things necessary to salvation," and as being the rule and ultimate standard of faith.
(2) The Apostles' Creed, as the Baptismal Symbol; and the Nicene Creed, as the sufficient statement of the Christian faith.
(3) The two Sacraments ordained by Christ Himself--Baptism and the Supper of the Lord--ministered with unfailing use of Christ's words of Institution, and of the elements ordained by Him.
(4) The Historic Episcopate, locally adapted in the methods of its administration to the varying needs of the nations and peoples called of God into the Unity of His Church.
The one, holy, catholic and apostolic church is that community which is entered into by baptism, fed and sustained by Christ in the Eucharist and committed to living the story attested to…by the bishops who trace their authority to Christ and his twelve apostles.
(Editorial note because my daughter says I'm confusing- Begin my part of imaginary conversation with irate reader here)
So there it is- Mere Christianity. No more and no less. I think you…
What was that?
I’m out of my freakin’ mind…now I wouldn’t say…
Sola what? Sola Scriptura?
Yeah, I believe in… What?
Scripture is the rule and ultimate standard of faith. I affirm that. I said th…
Wait, wait, wait.
This is the problem I was trying to get at in the beginning. Scripture isn’t enough. In fact, if we stick with scripture alone, then we end up without a bible. Let me come at it from another angle; hear me out.
Why does scripture matter?
Owe! Come on! I’m asking a serious question.
Why does it matter? Scripture is the final authority- the ultimate rule for faith and practice- because it is the authoritative depository of what God was up to in Christ.
Right?
It’s not important apart from its message. It’s not uniquely significant as an object. It’s foundational importance is found in what says. It does us no good, if it’s not read…and understood. Scripture doesn’t form the bedrock of our identity by…well, lying there and being bedrock; rather it tells us authoritatively what God was up to in Christ. Everything flows from this.
In the final analysis it matters because of what it says about the identity, life and mission of Jesus. It matters for the story it tells.
What was that?
I’m out of my freakin’ mind…now I wouldn’t say…
Sola what? Sola Scriptura?
Yeah, I believe in… What?
Scripture is the rule and ultimate standard of faith. I affirm that. I said th…
Wait, wait, wait.
This is the problem I was trying to get at in the beginning. Scripture isn’t enough. In fact, if we stick with scripture alone, then we end up without a bible. Let me come at it from another angle; hear me out.
Why does scripture matter?
Owe! Come on! I’m asking a serious question.
Why does it matter? Scripture is the final authority- the ultimate rule for faith and practice- because it is the authoritative depository of what God was up to in Christ.
Right?
It’s not important apart from its message. It’s not uniquely significant as an object. It’s foundational importance is found in what says. It does us no good, if it’s not read…and understood. Scripture doesn’t form the bedrock of our identity by…well, lying there and being bedrock; rather it tells us authoritatively what God was up to in Christ. Everything flows from this.
In the final analysis it matters because of what it says about the identity, life and mission of Jesus. It matters for the story it tells.
Now, what does it say about the identity, life and mission of Jesus? What story does it tell?
It’s been told different way, you know. That’s okay- within reason. The problem comes when the Christian gospel morphs into another story altogether.
Imagine you have me over to your house, the kids are playing in the floor at our feet and I offer, “Want to hear a story?”
“Yeah,” they respond as they gather around expectantly.
“This is the story of Little Red Riding Hood,” I begin. “It’s my favorite story. My daddy used to tell it to me and his daddy told it to him. It goes like this: Once upon a time there was little girl named Little Red Riding Hood. She loved grandmothers- with all of her heart…”
You smile and relax back into the sofa. This is nice. It reminds you of being small and listening to the same tale from your Father.
I continue, “She loved them boiled and fried. She loved them raw and pickled, but her favorite way of eating grandmothers was roasted with carrots and potatoes…”
You come forward in your seat. “What are you talking about?”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“What are you telling them?”
“Little Red Riding Hood,” I answer.
“No, you’re not.”
“Sure I am.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Sure I am. I’ll prove it. This is the Story of Little Red Riding Hood. Once upon a time there was little girl named Little Red Riding Hood. She loved grandmothers- with all of her heart…”
“But simply calling it Little Red Riding Hood doesn’t make it Little Red Riding Hood. It’s a different story.”
I’m surprised at your arrogance. “Says who?” I ask. “There’s Little Red Riding Hood, there’s her Grandmother; if you’d let me finish you’d see that there is also that infuriating do-gooder “the big bad wolf. It’s all there.”
Maybe you can see my point. There’s all sorts of room for variations without compromising the fairy tale. Maybe you have the child carrying muffins in her basket, but I think that Grandmother prefers chocolate chip cookies. Perhaps you have Grandmother living to the West while I locate her in the South. I think Red Riding Hood has golden hair, but you know that it’s auburn. Plenty of room for variation while remaining the same story.
But there are certain lines you can’t cross without turning it into a different tale altogether. How many lines? Well there’s probably an infinite number of ways to switch it over. We humans have great imaginations. The only ones we know about for sure are the ones various yahoos have already tried. Little Red Riding Hood as cannibal, for example. That’s one way of telling a different story.
With the resurrection and ascension of Christ and the subsequent outpouring of His Spirit upon his people, the kingdom began to spread. The gospel, the spell (or story) of God began to go forth. It was told in Italy and Greece, Turkey and Spain. Eventually the “angels” in Britain heard its telling and the people of Egypt and India. The story. The one story.
But from the very beginning people began to tell it in such a way as to subvert it into another thing altogether. They used the same words- son of God, Jesus. They told the same plotlines, mostly, but they meant different things by them…they changed them at crucial points. And so St John had to warn against those who denied that Christ had come in the flesh. Different story, that.
How many ways are there of screwing up the narrative? We’ll probably never know. But we can know the ways it has been tried, and they usually consist of an almost infinite number of variations on four main themes. They deny that Jesus was truly God, perfectly man, distinctly both or indivisibly one person. Alerting us to these variations is the role of The Ecumenical Creeds of the church. They tell a story, but in need of fleshing out. They parade out the main plotlines without which the story would be deficient…perhaps, even other than that which was originally given. They mark the major digressions which the bent hearts of men and women have preferred to the gospel. They summarize, they preserve The Story itself by creating a fence around the truth. Inside, somewhere is truth. Out there, everywhere is error.
“In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God and the word was God.” So says our source.
“He wasn’t exactly God, you know” offers a competing storyteller. He makes a pretty good case, too- from the source itself. After all, there’s only one God. Jesus prayed to him, and grew hungry, tired, afraid….dead. God doesn’t do any of those things. What St. John means is…"
Like I said, he makes a good case. The only problem is that it’s not the way those who walked and talked and died for Jesus told the story. That’s not the story they- and through them- we were given.
Notice the different elements in play:
(1) Two contradicting versions of Christ (two stories) both appealing to (2) the same source (the Bible)
Do you see that Mere Christianity involves both (a) an authoritative source (b) properly understood?
Which is the correct understanding? What is the standard? For those who take seriously Jesus’ claims, it is the story as he told it. Ah! And where are we to find that?
We find it among the people to whom it was first given. We need to learn and be formed by them- to become one of them. How is this done- what does faithfulness to the story of a God who eternally exists in community require here? Baptism and Communion answer this.
Adherence to Mere Christianity has so far required of us three elements: (a) the source (b) the truthful understanding of the source and (c) membership and communion with the people being formed by the source. Which brings us to the last (and most contentious point)
Where are they to be found?
This is particularly crucial. Do you see why? The other three points depend on this one. If we don’t know where they are, we (c) can’t learn and be formed by them. If we can’t learn and be formed by them, (b) we can’t be sure we understand the source properly; if we can’t be sure we understand the source properly, (a) we (and this is surprisingly not understood)…can’t be sure that we have the source at all.
Just as there’s always been many competing ways of telling the story, there has always been competing works claiming to be part of the source. The recent silliness in the media over the Gospel of Judas is a case in point. In the beginning- as still today- there were literally dozens of works considered by various individuals to be “source material.” Often these works made more obvious or explicit the “alternative storylines” the competing storytellers espoused.
Here's the point: There simply is no list within any of the books of the New Testament clarifying which books belong in the New Testament.
How do we know what is “source material” and so, what is not? We rely on those to whom they were originally given. Doug Wilson has rightly said that before we can come to Scripture, we must pass through a creed. We call this creed The Table of Contents. Or in other words: the problem with New-Testament-Only-Christians is that they are left without a New Testament.
So, how do we know where to find them? Where is the church found…for sure?
Perhaps it’s a more difficult question than you might think. There are many competing groups and “peoples.” Each baptizing. Each with its own version of the story.
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, for example, asks why the more popular version of the gospel is the right one. Why indeed? They believe the bible’s declaration that Christ is God’s only begotten son. They just don’t believe that he is “God of God, light of light, very God of very God.” They’ll dunk you and they also have a peculiar position on “source material.” Maybe they’re the real deal. How do you know? Are those of us living two thousand years from Christ’s earthly visit left to our own discretion and judgment about the truthfulness or falsehood of ancient things?
Thankfully, it’s not such a difficult question. We simply need to know where “they” are. How do we do it? The same way we locate any other group. Can you imagine asking “I wonder where congress is…the real congress, that is?”
“Well, Congress is over there.”
“But how do you know it is the real congress?”
“Because it received its authority- its authentication- from the congress that assembled before it, and they received theirs from the one before that….all the way back to the original institution. No reasonable person asks where it can find Congress, or the Presidency, or the county School Board. Likewise, no one need wonder where to find the church. While there are various individuals, parishes and institutions the church can be traced consistently back to the Apostles and their Lord through its shepherds.
This is why we find the martyr St Ignatius of Antioch writing in 110 AD “Let no one do anything of concern to the Church without the bishop. Let that be considered a valid Eucharist which is celebrated by the bishops, or by one whom he appoints. Wherever the bishop appears, let the people be there; just as wherever Jesus Christ is, there is the catholic church.”
It may be that we can “happen” upon the true source. We might get really lucky regarding its proper understanding. Then, if our luck and scholarship holds, we can identify the independent manifestation of the one true body. Maybe. But it would be disingenuous. You would be depending on the authority of the church’s continuity to arrive at a, b and c. before throwing them overboard in the sixteenth century. Seems a bit selective. We started in the air, built the ladder under us and then climbed down to survey the job. No one believes that. Something fishy is going on.
If we happened to get a, b and c right on our own and against all odds (though how would we know), we would leave those who came after us vulnerable and uncertain at each stage, because we went about it precisely backwards.
If we want to know with certainty where the church is, we simply need to follow her back to her Lord. Certainty, in regards to Mere Christianity requires- indeed, begins with- (d) the Historic Episcopate.
Being able to tell where the church is is an essential part of Mere Christianity; knowing for sure where it's not is dubious extra.
No comments:
Post a Comment