Showing posts with label Martin Luther. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Martin Luther. Show all posts

Saturday, January 30, 2016

Pope Francis and Ecumenical Dialogue

Luther posting the 95
Theses on the Castle
Church Door 
Pope Francis continues to drive the Krazies to the brink of schism.  The current outrage is his apology for the atrocities committed by Catholics against Protestants during the Reformation and his decision to attend a public commemoration of the Reformation at the Lutheran Cathedral in Lund, Sweden, this autumn marking the beginning of the 5th centennial of the Reformation. 
It is curious that the commemoration marking the beginning of the year long anticipation of Luther’s 1517 posting of the 95 Theses on Wittenberg Castle Church is being held in Sweden and not in Germany.  Presumably the conclusion of the centennial will be held next year in Wittenberg and it is easier for the Pope to go to an event held by the (Lutheran) Church of Sweden rather than the Evangelical (Lutheran) Church in Germany as the Swedish Church has always maintained much more of its Catholic heritage than the other Lutheran Churches. 
Lund has been a diocese since 1060—originally suffrage to Hamburg—and a Metropolitan Archdiocese from 1104 until the Reformation.  During the Middle Ages it held the primacy of Scandinavia.  During the Reformation the Scandinavian Churches temporarily abolished the distinctions of Archbishop, reducing Lund to a diocese again.  It currently is a diocese suffragen to Uppsala.  The last Catholic Archbishop of Torben Bille who, before he could be consecrated, was arrested and imprisoned by Christian III of Denmark. 
This gets a little complicated here as there are several interlocking historical circles.  Lund at the time of Torben Bille was actually under Danish rule.  Christian’s father, Frederick I, had introduced Lutheranism into Denmark.  Christian’s accession to the throne was initially blocked by the Catholic bishops and nobles who were resisting the Reformation, but after the Count’s War King Christian prevailed in his efforts to make the Church of Denmark Lutheran.  As Lund was in his realm, he was not anxious for a Catholic bishop there and so replaced Bille with Frans Vormordsen.  It was over a century later, in 1658, that Lund was ceded to Sweden. 
As for the Church of Sweden being Lutheran, that is a parallel but separate story.  Sweden, Denmark, and Norway had been united under one crown by Margaret I of Denmark in the 1397 Union of Kalmar.  With the gradual rise of distinct national identities among the Scandinavian peoples in the fifteenth century this Union became more and more fragile.  In the early sixteenth century the Swedes established their independence under the leadership of Gustav Vasa, a truly great monarch.  The problem was that the Archbishop of Uppsala and primate of Sweden, Gustav Trolle, was still loyal to Christian II of Denmark.  The Danish parliament, the Riksdag, petitioned the pope to replace him with Johannes Magnus, a prelate  more to his own liking.  There were four other empty dioceses and Gustav proposed candidates to the pope for these dioceses as well.  The pope rejected Magnus and three of Gustav’s four candidates.  The King installed Magnus without the authorizing papal bull.  The irony is that Magnus turned out to be a loyal Catholic and Gustav was frustrated in his attempts to introduce Lutheranism to Sweden.  He finally sent Magnus to Russia on a diplomatic errand.  Meanwhile, Magnus’ brother went to Rome and explained to the Holy See the situation in Sweden and why Trolle could not be reinstated.  The Holy See ended up having Magnus consecrated as Archbishop of Uppsala but as Gustav Vasa was determined to introduce Lutheranism to his kingdom, the point was moot and Magnus was unable to return to his see and spent the remainder of his life in Rome. 
Why did Gustav Vasa want Sweden to be Lutheran?  Basically it was the same story as the motivation behind Henry VIII.  Both monarchs—as well as several other European Kings and princes—believed that the Church in their realms should be subject to the Crown and not to a foreign prince—the Pope.  This was the time of the rise of nation states and the various kings and princes saw the political power of the Church and were determine to harness it for their own purposes.  In countries such as France, and even more so Spain, where the papacy pretty much gave control over the Church to the Crown there was no problem.  But in Denmark and Sweden and England and Scotland and a variety of German principalities and dukedoms, the practicalities of politics trumped Christian faith.  Of course today too God often get’s the word and self-interest gets the deed. 

Today there is a strong backlash against ecumenism among the right-wing Catholics.  They ignore both the complexities of history and our contemporary world and want no dialogue—much less apologies—with those who differ from their own opinions and views.  They are quite like the wing-nuts that have taken over conservative politics in the United States: it is all or nothing, no dialogue and no compromise.  I will steer away from the political realm—though it interlocks with a certain distorted Christianity—but in the realm of Christianity we cannot afford not to sit down and dialogue with anyone who is willing to enter into sincere and honest dialogue.  The healing of the divisions in Christianity is of paramount importance in a world that on the one flank is confronted by jihadist Islam and on the flank by the rampant secularism of our post-modern world.   Jesus’ final request for us was ut unum sint: that all may be one.  This is not an option: it is a commandment.  We are a long way from being able to fulfill that mandate but it begins with dialogue. 

Saturday, January 23, 2016

The Complexities of Ecumenism

Pope Francis greets Archbishop
of Uppsala and Primate of the
Church of Sweden, Antje Jakelen
 
It wasn’t that long ago that a delegation from the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America declined an invitation to meet Pope John Paul II when the Vatican insisted that one of the bishops in the delegation be excluded from the papal meeting because she is a woman. It was the Vatican stance that such a meeting would undermine the Church’s opposition to women’s ordination.  Last May Pope Francis met with Antje Jackelén, the Archbishop of Uppsala and Primate of Sweden—and a woman. This was supposedly the first time a Pope had met—at least officially—with a woman bishop.  The Pope was somewhat circumspect in addressing Archbishop Jackelén, never using the title “Archbishop.”  She was “esteemed Madame Jackelén,” or “Dear Dr. Jackelén,” or “esteemed sister.” (The use of “sister” is telling as the Pope traditionally refers to his fellow bishops as “brother,” but I am not sure we should read very much into that choice of terms.)
Well the Pope took another small step forward last week when he received an ecumenical delegation from the Finnish Catholic Church and the Lutheran Church of Finland in which he said “I thank the Lutheran Bishop of Helsinki, Irja Askola, for her kind greeting on your behalf.”  This is no sign that the Catholic Church is—at any time soon—going to drop its opposition to the ordination of women but it is a sign that the Church is prepared to face the ecumenical realities of divergent opinions on this  (and other) key principles of both doctrine and discipline. 
Ecumenism has grown much more complicated in the fifty+ years since Vatican II and Unitatis Reintegratio.  Fifty years ago Christians could have spoken with one voice, at least officially, on subjects such as same-sex marriage, abortion, transgendering, and extra-marital sex.  Fifty years ago most Protestant denominations did not—and were not contemplating to—ordain women to the ministries of Word and Sacrament.  (The Methodist Church is one of the exceptions having approved the ordination of women in the mid 1950’s—and there having been ordinations of women among certain Methodist groups even in the late 19th century.) 
Dialogue means an openness to change.  It also presents an opportunity for witness.  There are many among the Krazies who live in mortal terror of ecumenical dialogue because it means that there may be yet more changes in our Catholic way of doing things.  Ecumenical dialogue will have to face the issue of the ordination of women before we can (officially) have sacramental sharing.  Honest dialogue will require that all participants come with open minds and discerning spirits.  Dialogue could present us with sound arguments to rethink our position on any number of issues.  This isn’t compromise—Truth cannot be compromised—but we may come to new and fuller appreciations of the Truth.  Why are people so afraid that they may not possess Truth in all its fullness?  None of us has the fullness of Truth.  The depths of the Mystery of God have yet to be fully explored.  Nor will they ever be.  We cannot stand paralyzed in fear when we are only a few steps into what is an eternal journey.  Bishop Kallistos Ware put it well when wrote of the Hesychast Fathers
Perfection is to be seen not in static but in dynamic terms: the blessed never reach a point where their pilgrimage comes to an end, but through all eternity they continue to advance further and further into the love of God.
When we understand that God did not create us to be a graduate school of dogma but a people who journey together into the Mystery of God the fear of what lies ahead dissipates.  This requires not only some drastic rethinking on our part, but some conversion of our hearts.  But then isn’t the conversion of our hearts what Christian faith is all about? 
Speaking of Lutherans and the need to rethink things: the Reverend Doctor Martin Junge, Secretary General of the Lutheran World Federation and Cardinal Kurt Koch, President of the Vatican’s Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity last week issued a “Common Prayer” to prepare for the upcoming 500th anniversary of the Lutheran Reformation which will occur in 2017.  (Martin Luther nailed his famous “95 Theses” to the door of Wittenberg Castle Church on October 31, 1517 calling for a theological debate on what he—and others—saw as serious flaws in Catholic doctrine and practice.)   It is truly a remarkable sign of change that the Holy See is prepared to view the Reformation not as a tragedy (though in so many ways it was) or a rebellion (which it also was, all rebellions not being bad things) but as an event in the history of the Church that has positive as well as negative aspects.  Along with the krazies, I have no doubt that Gregory XVI and Pius X and Pius XI and dozen of other popes would be scratching their heads and wondering just what malaria from the malodorous Tiber had affected and infected the brains of current Vatican officials that they were preparing to commemorate the Protestant Reformation.  But again, I think this is the benefit of honest dialogue.  We can come to an honest appreciation of the Reformation.  Yes, it divided Western Christendom and yes it caused strife at every level of society and even warfare.  But God brings forth Grace in every situation no matter how sinful.  The Reformation shocked Catholic Europe into Reformations of its own and gave us great saints like Charles Borromeo and Francis de Sales and Teresa of Avila.  It made us face into the complicit tolerance of the gross immorality of prelates and priests and princes and set impeccable standards of behavior. (You know, I think we could use another one of these reformations.) It gave us seminaries and catechisms.  It reformed convents and monasteries. It reformed the Liturgy and cleaned out a multitude of superstitious practices that had crept into Catholic devotionalism.  It gave us the Jesuits and the Discalced Carmelites and the observant Franciscans.  It put the bible into the language (and the hands) of the faithful. 
And it didn’t do bad for our Protestant brothers and sisters either.  As for us, it was also for them a mixed blessing.  There was much that was good that was lost.  But it created the great hymnody of the West, beginning with Luther’s own hymns.  It set standards of moral rectitude and reinforced the family as the basic unit of the Church (and thus of society).  It introduced people to the Word of God in scripture.  It strengthened the idea of the community of the faithful which in turn led to the emergence of democratic ideas and institutions.  It too gave us some masterful spiritual writers such as Lancelot Andrews, George Herbert, the poet John Donne, Jakob Böhme, and Martin Luther himself whose devotional writings are well worth looking at.  Protestant spirituality can be seen in such remarkable texts as John Winthrop’s famous sermon to the Massachusetts Bay colonists: “A City Upon A Hill” or Milton’s Paradise Lost.  Much sound spirituality (as well as even more florid piety) can be found in Protestant hymnody.  The hymns of Charles Wesley are especially to be commended and many are used in Catholic worship since Vatican II—and a few even before. 

We Christians must build a common future. To paraphrase Benjamin Franklin in a very different situation: we must stand together or assuredly we shall hang separately.  It is very urgent that we face the threats of secularism and religious extremism with one faith, one determination, and one voice—the voice of Christ in the Gospel.  The tragedy of the Reformation is not that it happened, it is that false disciples want to perpetuate the hatred and strife the Reformation caused and block the Grace that God wishes to bestow on us through our shared history. 

Friday, May 9, 2014

More on the Mass as Sacrifice --What It Means and What it doesn't Mean

14th century bas-relief depicting
Mass facing the People on the
facade of Lucca Cathedral.
OK, this posting will be a little more heavy than my usual and it may interest a more limited audience, but in the last posting, I dealt with the idea of the Mass as Sacrifice from the perspective of the prayers in the offertory of the Mass of Pius V where the bread and wine are specifically referred to as a Sacrifice.  This is theologically problematic and is one of the reasons that the offertory rite was so drastically revised in the Reform of the Liturgy following the Second Vatican Council.  The Mass is a Sacrifice in as that in the Mass we participate in the one eternal Sacrifice of Christ made on the Cross at Calvary and to which we become mystically present when “we proclaim the Death of the Lord until he comes…”  (I am using the word “mystically” here in the sense that Pius XII used it so describe the Church as the Body of Christ in Mystici Corporis. It does not mean “spiritually” or “symbolically,” nor is it meant to connote the abstraction that is often meant when we use the word “mystic.”  In some sense, mystic means “sacramental,” but it is meant to convey a reality that is more authentic—more real—than the literal or physical sense.  In other words, in the Eucharistic Celebration we are truly and fully present to the Sacrifice of Christ on Calvary, even more present to it than were those who stood there at the foot of the Cross.)  In no sense is Christ offered in Sacrifice again and again each day on the altars of our churches, much less do we offer God a sacrifice of bread and wine.  We do present to God’s service the gifts of bread and wine so that the Lord’s Death might be proclaimed until he comes again but this should not be considered a “sacrifice.”  Were I a theologian I might go on about how the bread and wine are symbols of our own lives which are presented on the altar so that by Christ’s Redeeming Sacrifice and the Power of the Holy Spirit called down we, by virtue of our baptism, are conformed to Christ in his death and Resurrection and so become his Body—but since I am not a theologian I don’t intend to go there.  I had planned in this posting to talk about Cranmer’s reaction to the concept of the Mass as Sacrifice, but I realize that before I go there, I need to look at the Roman Canon, the Eucharistic Prayer which, in Cranmer’s day was the only Eucharistic Prayer used in the Western Church (including the distinctly English Rites), to see how the idea of the Mass as Sacrifice is found there.  So let’s look at the Roman Canon. 
There are various phrases in the canon that make it clear that a sacrifice is being offered to God in this rite.  I will highlight the sacrificial language.  Pardon the Latin, but to demonstrate the point, we need to cite the untranslated text lest the translation add or subtract meaning. 

uti accepta habeas et benedicas  haec dona haec munera, haec sancta sacrificia illibata,

vel qui tibi offerunt hoc sacrificium laudis, pro se suisque omnibus: pro redemtione animarum suarum, pro spe salutis et incolumitatis suae:

Hanc igitur oblationem servitutis nostrae, sed et cunctae familiae tuae, quaesumus, Domine, ut placatus accipias:

Supra quae propitio ac sereno vultu respicere digneris: et accepta habere, siculti accepta habere dignatus es munera pueri tui iusti Abel, et sacrificium Patriarchae nostri Abrahae, et quod tibi obtulit summus sacerdos tuus Melchisedech, sanctum sacrificium, immaculatam hostiam.

Supplices te rogamus, omnipotens Deus: iube haec perferri per manus sancti Angeli tui in sublime altare tuum, in conspectu divinae maiestatis tuae;

But it is also clear from the prayers, that the sacrifice being offered is not bread and wine, but Christ himself, highlighting not only the sacrificial language, but the reference to the sacrifice being Christ. 

Quam oblationem tu, Deus, in omnibus, quaesumus, benedictam, adscriptam, ratam, rationabilem, acceptabilemque facere digneris: ut nobis Corpus et Sanguis fiat dilectissimi Filii tui, Domini nostri Iesu Christi.

ut quotquot ex hac altaris participatione sacrosanctum Filii tui Corpus et Sanguinem sumpserimus,

And it is clear that Christ is not being sacrificed anew but rather that are recalling his one eternal sacrifice.  I have highlighted the phrase, unde et memores, in addition to the sacrificial language because that phrase, usually translated “Calling to mind…”  or in the current translation, “we celebrate the memorial” neither of which phrase keeps the Latin syntax despite Liturgiam authenticam.   

Unde et memores, Domine, nos servi tui, sed et plebs tua sancta, eiusdem Christi, Filii Tui, Domini nostri, tam beatae passionis, necnon et ab inferis resurrectionis, sed et in caelos gloriosae ascensionis: offerimus praeclarae maiestati tuae de tuis donis ac datis hostiam puram, hostiam sanctam, hostiam immaculatam, Panem sanctam vitae aeternae et Calicem salutis perpetuae.

What may have been clear in the seventh century when the Roman Canon achieved what was more or less to be its definitive form, was no longer clear in the sixteenth century (much less the 20th)  and the nuances of the theology of Eucharistic sacrifice were lost leading to exaggerated ideas.  In their attempts to restore the pristine faith regarding the Eucharist, reformers from Luther to Cranmer to Calvin to Zwingli universally rejected any and all sacrificial language, thus snapping the connection of the Eucharist to the Cross and reducing the Eucharist is a commemoration, not of the cross but of the Last Supper.  Fortunately the recovery of the patristic tradition has led most Protestant—or at least Anglican and Lutheran—scholars back to appreciation of the Eucharist as a sacramental participation in the Death of the Lord until he comes again.  It can also be said regarding us Catholics, that the revised Liturgy of Paul VI has done much to restore our balance in approaching the Eucharist as Sacrifice by clarifying the relationship of the Eucharistic Celebration to the paschal mystery and reducing the superstitious understanding prevalent at the time of the Reformation and, among the ignorant, still prevalent on the eve of the Council.  In regard to a clear theology of the Eucharist, the revised rites of Paul VI are greatly superior to the ambiguities found in the old Missal used until the revisions of Vatican II. 

 

Monday, February 17, 2014

Foundations of the Anglican Church LXVIX

The High Altar at Durham Cathedral--one can see
in the Reredos the empty nitches from which
images had been removed at the Reformation and
never restored
As I had mentioned in previous posts, while Henry VIII brought England into schism, he did not bring it into heresy.   On key points of the faith Henry strictly maintained Catholic doctrine and discipline.  He affirmed the doctrine of Transubstantiation and the Sacrifice of the Mass.  The maintained the doctrine of the invocation of Mary and Saints and the pious customs that accompanied that doctrine.  Masses and prayers continued to be offered for the dead.  Bishops were consecrated according to the ancient formulae and priests were ordained in the manner they always had been. The traditional liturgy remained in place.  Communion was in one kind only.  Celibacy was required of the clergy.  The Pope was gone, the monks were gone, but otherwise the Church remained in a position analogous to the Greek Church.  And, moreover, Henry persecuted any who deviated from Catholic orthodoxy.  The anti-lollardy laws remained in effect and dozens went to the stake for maintaining the teachings of Luther and other Continental Reformers. 
One center of the dissemination of Lutheran ideas in England in the reign of King Henry was the White Horse Tavern in Cambridge.  Leading theologians of the University met there to discuss these new ideas coming out of Germany.  This is where Thomas Cranmer was first exposed to the ideas that would lead him to champion the Protestant cause in the Church of England.  Several of the group—Robert Barnes and Thomas Bilney among others—ended up being burned at the stake.  Others such as John Bale and Myles Coverdale fled to the continent.  Still others—like Cranmer himself—remained in England, keeping their Protestant ideals to themselves and enjoying the protection of powerful friends at court.  Coverdale and Bale were not the only two proto-Protestants to flee to the Continent under Henry.  William Tyndale and John Hooper were two prominent others who fled the realm to investigate further the exciting new ideas emerging from Germany and later from Geneva.  Tyndale was to die a Protestant Martyr under Charles V in Flanders.  Hooper would go on to become a Bishop under Edward VI; and an important figure in the Reformation. 
While they were abroad these English Protestants made many friends among continental Reformers and when Edward VI came to the throne and Protestantism was in the English air, not only did the English Reformers return, but they brought with them some of the leading continental figures.  The Strasbourg Reformer, Martin Bucer; Bucer’s sidekick, Paul Fagius; the Polish Biblicist Jan Łaski (John a Lasco); and the Italian Reformer, Peter Martyr Vermigli were among the more distinguished Reformers seeking to advance the Protestant cause in England. 
Cranmer welcomed these men to England and sought their support for the Reform (read: Protestantization) of the English Church, but at the same time their presence placed him in a bind.  The Continental Reformers and their English disciples were anxious for far more drastic action than Cranmer had laid out in the 1549 Prayerbook and more radical than the politics of the Court would allow.   By this point, Luther and his fairly conservative policies had been left in the dust by the more radical Swiss and Rhineland Reformers.  Bucer and the others were not slow in letting Cranmer know that they were disappointed in his 1549 Prayer Book and 1550 Ordinal and they pushed him to go further.  He would issue a far more drastically Protestant liturgy in a second Prayer Book in 1552 and at the same time a revised ordinal, but in the meantime the Archbishop continued to make changes that stripped the Church of England of its Catholic identity.  Stone altars were to be replaced by wooden communion tables to further clarify that the Reformed Sacrament was not a Sacrifice.  Statutes were taken down and paintings whitewashed over.  In many places the medieval glass with its scenes of scripture and the lives of the saints was smashed.  The chantry chapels where masses and prayers for the dead had been offered were destroyed. 
A particularly crucial incident happened when John Hooper was named Bishop of Gloucester in 1550.  Hooper had spent time in Geneva where he had come under the influence of Zwingli and Bullinger and where church ornaments had been done completely away.  Hooper refused consecration as a bishop because the 1549 Ordinal demanded that he wear a surplice and a cope and he considered this to be papal superstition—confusing the Aaronic Priesthood of the Old Law for the Christian ministry instituted by Christ, the only Priest of the New Law.  Unfortunately to decline a nomination by the King was considered an act against the Crown and Hooper was called to the Privy Council to explain.  King Edward, a Protestant of the most base bias, was willing to forgo the point and allow Hooper to be consecrated without the required vestments, but the Privy Council—following a slower path of Reform—was not.  The issue dragged on for over a year including a debate between Hooper and Nicholas Ridley, Bishop of London, who—though a convinced Protestant himself—defended the vestments rubric.  Hooper finally gave in and—wearing the required vestments—was consecrated bishop on March 8, 1551.  What both Ridley (defending vestments) and Hooper (attacking vestments) agreed on was that vestments were adiaphora—a thing indifferent.  It is amazing that such indifference would cause such an uproar and cause Hooper to bear imprisonment, but it isn’t the vestments themselves but what they symbolized that was the problem.   Vestments were another sign of a sacrificing priesthood.  The outcome of this debate was the gradual disappearance of vestments from the rites of the Church of England.  Some bishops and priests wore simply a black gown when presiding at the liturgy.  Others would maintain the rochet (for bishops) or surplice (for priest and deacons) which were officially required after 1552.  The cope would be seen at the coronation service and in some cathedrals.  The chasuble was to disappear completely.  With the replacement of altars with communion tables it was clear that the Eucharist was no longer understood to be a Sacrifice.  With the gradual loss of vestments it was clear that the clergy were no longer priests.