ONE IN CHRIST CONTENTS VOLUME 46 NUMBER 1

ARTICLES Interchurch Families & Receptive . + Paul Hendricks 2 The in England. Charles Hadley 13 Beyond Ecumenical Dialogue. Tom Hughson SJ 24 Strangers in our Midst. Adoption & Implicitness in Ecclesial Life. Martyn Percy 38 Francis, Clare & the Ecumenical Spirit of Assisi. Gilberto Cavazos-González OFM 49 Mano a Mano: Baroque Jesuits & Calvinists (1635-1700). Paul Shore 58 A Catholic Perspective on Salvation. Brett Salkeld 72 What does it mean for Evangelicals to say they are ‘saved’? David Guretzki 79 Anglican-Roman Catholic Dialogue on Ethics and Moral Theology: an Anglican Perspective. Charles Sherlock 89 Landscapes of Ecumenism: a Vast & Complex Realm. Robin Gibbons 108 A Hermeneutics of History for an Ecumenical Future. Jeffrey Gros FSC 124

REPORTS & EVENTS Assisi 2012. Where We Dwell in Common: Pathways for Dialogue in the 21st Century. Gerard Mannion 146 The Life & Ministry of His Holiness Pope Shenouda III. + Angaelos 153 Week of Prayer Sermon preached in Dublin, 18.01.2012. + Michael Jackson 159 The Re-launch of English ARC. Tony Castle 165 Michael Sattler: Catholics remember Anabaptist martyr. 176

BOOK REVIEW 177

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EDITORIAL

In our religious lives we relive the past. But which past? And to what purpose? A holy history has often become an offensive weapon, especially in the hands of men (Cavazos-González, Shore). What price ‘the luxury of confessional identity’ (Jackson), when forged with defensive and/or aggressive intent? What—or rather, Who—is our true Tradition (Guretzki, Salkeld)? Our churches adhere to their own (version of their own) family histories; but don’t always listen to the families they share (Hendricks).

Along with a review of René Beaupère’s ecumenical journey (book review), we may also rejoice at another -grown initiative, the Chemin Neuf, drawing inspiration from the authentic recovered Ignatian tradition, and now in England (Hadley, cf. Shore).

The year 2017 will be seen as commemorating the fragmentation of the Western Church, with its subsequent global fallout. Our final article, a systematic treatment of ‘The Hermeneutics of History for an Ecumenical Future’, concludes with a plea that we collaborate in ‘constructing a new reconciling, but differentiated narrative of Christian history’ (Gros). Such a process, through which we may better learn the truth about ourselves, has to be pursued at every level of inter-church dialogue, explicated at the recent ‘Pathways for Dialogue’ gathering in Assisi as official (track 1), informal (track 2), and those which vitally bridge the two (Mannion et passim).

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INTERCHURCH FAMILIES AND RECEPTIVE ECUMENISM

Paul Hendricks*

Interchurch families embody Receptive Ecumenism, whereby Christians can learn from each other in a way that does not threaten, but rather enriches, their own faith. Just as any theological statement can best be understood in terms of what it affirms, so one achieves a deeper understanding of another Christian tradition by considering its strengths, rather than what one might feel to be its weaknesses. It is often assumed that ecumenism implies a search for a bare minimum that is acceptable to all traditions, but in an interchurch marriage, one reaches out to embrace what is best in the other tradition.

When Keith Lander suggested the idea of giving a talk to the Association of Interchurch Families, I immediately thought of the topic of Receptive Ecumenism. That’s because I see interchurch families as an excellent example of how Christians can learn from other churches in a way that does not threaten, but rather enriches, their own faith. I’ll begin by trying to explain what I think receptive ecumenism is, and why it has a lot to offer us at this stage of our ecumenical journey. Then I’m going to make some links with certain features of interchurch families. For this part, I’m very grateful to Ruth Reardon for letting me read a draft of an article she has written on ‘Interchurch Families’ for the Oxford Handbook of Ecumenical Studies. Finally I want to add some further thoughts about why receptive ecumenism is a good thing—and I hope some of these observations may link up with your own experience in various ways.

* Paul Hendricks is one of the three Auxiliary Bishops in the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Southwark and a member of the Bishops’ Conference Department of Dialogue and Unity. He has had a particular interest in Receptive Ecumenism since attending the second Durham conference on the subject in 2009. He has had regular contact with members of the Association of Interchurch Families for several years. This article originated as a talk to the AIF, in March 2012.

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There is time set aside for questions—but perhaps observations and comments might be even more appropriate than questions. After all, I’m only speaking as an observer; you’re the ones who are actually living this out from day to day, so you know a lot more about it than I do. What is receptive ecumenism? So, what is receptive ecumenism? It might sound a bit theoretical, but I’d like to start from an observation about theological statements generally. It seems to me that everything we say about God can be interpreted both in a positive and in a negative way. Let me give you an example from St Peter’s Pentecost homily in Acts 2. First he tells the people about the death and the resurrection of Christ. ‘This Jesus ... you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men ... But God raised him up ... and of that we all are witnesses.’ Then he concludes, ‘Let all the house of therefore know assuredly that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified.’ He proclaims Jesus as Lord and Christ (Messiah) on the basis that God has raised him from the dead. So in terms of what it says positively, this is a declaration of faith in Jesus, as Lord and Messiah. But we could also interpret it negatively, as if Jesus wasn’t already the Son of God, the Messiah and Lord before the resurrection. Obviously the Church hasn’t understood these statements in this negative or a restrictive way. Looking back with the benefit of the Church’s developing teaching, we realise that the resurrection was a decisive moment when it was possible to recognise what had been true all along. Even during the period covered by the New Testament, we can already see a developing awareness of the divinity of Christ, culminating in the prologue to St John’s Gospel, which reveals Christ as the Word who existed from the beginning. Now you might think that the Church would have removed the less-developed statements, such as the text from Acts, seeing them as inadequate to express the fullness of our faith in Christ. But this isn’t what happened. The church recognised that these more primitive expressions still said something important about Jesus, which should not be lost. At the same time, they could only be retained because the Church always focuses on what these texts say positively about Jesus, and does not take them in a restrictive or negative sense. HENDRICKS Interchurch Families & Receptive Ecumenism 4

It seems to me that this can be applied generally. Any theological statement can best be understood in terms of what it says positively, whereas the difficulties really start when we apply a negative or restrictive interpretation. I think this is very important when it comes to addressing the differences between churches. Let’s look at one famous and controversial example, from the Thirty-Nine Articles, in the Anglican Book of Common Prayer. Article 31 speaks about the one sacrifice of Christ, completed upon the Cross and says that ‘there is no other satisfaction for sin.’ This is very much at the heart of our faith and no church would have any quarrel with this part of the article. But Catholics within and beyond the church of Rome would very much disagree with the negative conclusion in the second half of the article. Here it says that ‘the sacrifices of Masses, in the which it was commonly said that the Priest did offer Christ for the quick and the dead, to have remission of pain or guilt, were blasphemous fables and dangerous deceits.’ We would want to correct this misunderstanding of the Catholic view of the Eucharist, while agreeing with the positive statement which the first part of the Article upholds. So I would say that receptive ecumenism is all about approaching the other churches in a spirit of openness, ready to learn from the positive insights they offer, without necessarily accepting what we might regard as limiting or restrictive aspects of their tradition. Looking only at what we would regard as the positive aspect of other churches’ teachings may seem dishonest—as if we’re pretending that we don’t see any problem with other aspects of what they believe. But the point of receptive ecumenism isn’t to come to a judgement about the other churches and what they believe. All we’re concerned about here is what I can learn from them and integrate with my own faith. In saying this, I recognise that other Christians will regard aspects of the Catholic tradition as limiting or restrictive—and they will be quite right. If it were not so, I as a Catholic would have nothing to learn from them, and (for me) receptive ecumenism would be pointless. Let me give one simple example of an aspect of the Catholic tradition that might be regarded as limiting. Catholics (like many other Christians) see Baptism as a sacrament. For us it is more than just a sign that I have already come to ‘believe in Jesus Christ as my personal saviour’. It really does bring about a fundamental change in my relationship with God. But in emphasising this, Catholics have tended not to 5 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 notice that faith on my part is nevertheless essential, if the sacrament is to bear fruit in my life. Our theology has always recognised the importance of faith, but perhaps in practice we have not always been fully aware of its role in relation to the sacraments. If, as I believe, Catholics have grown in this awareness, it may be due in part to the influence of the past hundred years of dialogue with other churches. It isn’t just about doctrine So far I’ve only spoken about doctrine, but of course there’s a great deal we can all learn from other Christian traditions in terms of spirituality, styles of worship, music and all sorts of other dimensions of our faith. Here, I think, we’re getting closer to the sort of experience you have, as interchurch families. I can give you one example of this sort of learning, from the experience of a close friend from the first parish I worked in as a priest. He has always been a keen singer and some years ago he joined the choir at St Peter’s church in Streatham. As a Catholic singing in an Anglican church he was struck, not only by the beauty of the music and the liturgy, but also by the great attentiveness of the congregation to what was happening up on the sanctuary. We talked about this on many occasions and the best way I can think of describing it is to say that the people were ‘tuned in’ to the liturgy, there was a very strong sensitivity to what you might call the nuances of the celebration, which was even more noticeable than it is in my own church. I imagine that this is the sort of experience you would be familiar with—what you might say is more a matter of the heart than of the head. I suppose it shows up most when prayer and music come together, as they do for example at a service such as Evensong. It also showed up, in a way that was fascinating to me, when I came to read novels by authors such as Elizabeth Gaskell (a Unitarian) and L. M. Montgomery (a Presbyterian). In a novel it’s as if you enter into the world of the author and see things through his or her eyes. I’m sure a reader who isn’t a Catholic would have a very similar experience reading Graham Greene. Maybe this is as near as one can come to getting a feel for what it’s like to be a member of another church— though, again, you would probably have more of a feel for this than I would. So let me now try and identify some key features of interchurch families—as far as receptive ecumenism is concerned. Naturally, I’m HENDRICKS Interchurch Families & Receptive Ecumenism 6 only speaking as an outside observer, not having had this experience myself. You will be better able to judge how far what I say rings true, as far as you’re concerned. The experience of interchurch families In her article, Ruth quotes from the final declaration from the Second World Gathering of Interchurch Families (Rome, 2003). We believe that, as interchurch families, we have a significant and unique contribution to make to our churches’ growth in visible Christian unity. Many people in our churches have told us that we are pioneers. As two baptised Christians who are members of two different, and as yet separated Christian traditions, we have come together in the covenant of marriage to form one Christian family. As we grow into that unity, we begin and continue to share in the life and worship of each other’s church communities. We develop a love and understanding, not only of one another, but also of the churches that have given each of us our religious and spiritual identity. In this way interchurch families can become both a sign of unity and a means of growth towards unity. We believe that interchurch families can form a connective tissue helping in a small way to bring our churches together in the one Body of Christ. Reading this, a number of thoughts occurred to me. The declaration says that you have been described as pioneers. I suspect that in some ways this may be a compliment that reflects necessity rather than choice. I don’t suppose you set out to be pioneers and you may well wish that it wasn’t necessary. It’s not as if you chose to take part in a sort of ecumenical experiment. After all, you fell in love with a person, not with an ecumenical concept! Still, having found yourselves in this situation, I know you have learned to see the possibilities it offers, as the declaration itself makes clear. Two sentences seem to relate closely to what I said about having a practical and spiritual feeling for another church, rather than just a theoretical or intellectual understanding. ‘We begin and continue to share in the life and worship of each other’s church communities. We develop a love and understanding, not only of one another, but also of the churches that have given each of us our religious and spiritual identity.’ In other words, you have come to know and to love another Christian tradition ‘from within’ and to sense what it feels like to belong to that tradition. 7 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

From what I can gather from married people I know, they gradually learn to ‘expect the unexpected’, so to speak. Even after many years there will still be things that take you by surprise, new things to learn. And in the same way I imagine you gradually learn new things about each other’s churches, things which call into question the assumptions that you might previously have made. Your idea of what it means to follow Christ is enriched as you draw from each tradition and integrate elements of each into your family life. Sometimes people take it for granted that ecumenism means we have to look for a sort of bare minimum, so basic that no church could object to it. I think you are doing the opposite, reaching out to embracing the best that is in both traditions, not excluding anything that is positive. The declaration also says that interchurch families are both a sign and a means to grow towards unity. I’m struck by the fact that this sounds very like what we say about a sacrament—a sign which actually brings about the spiritual reality that it signifies. Perhaps this isn’t altogether surprising, since the interchurch family is itself founded upon the sacrament of marriage. Interchurch families embody unity But for me, the crucial sentence in the declaration is, ‘As two baptised Christians who are members of two different, and as yet separated Christian traditions, we have come together in the covenant of marriage to form one Christian family.’ Your experience has been that the unity between your two selves already contributes to the developing unity between the two churches of which you are members. To use a very memorable expression from Ruth’s article, you embody unity. It would take a considerable theological debate to work out the consequences of this—but just reflecting on your lived experience, you have sometimes come to conclusions which challenge the churches in terms of their attitudes towards unity. I haven’t heard it put exactly like this, but I suspect you sometimes feel like saying, ‘If this degree of unity is possible for us, why isn’t it possible for the rest of you?’ As interchurch families you must feel more acutely than most of us, the disunity that still exists between the churches. You already feel a strong degree of unity between yourselves, but you are not allowed to express this in full Eucharistic Communion—that is, as a regular thing and not just by way of exception on special occasions. It is certainly HENDRICKS Interchurch Families & Receptive Ecumenism 8 welcome that there is pastoral provision for exceptional situations, and perhaps we don’t make use of it as much as we could, under the provisions of One Bread, One Body. Still, it seems to me that the experience of interchurch families does impel you to long for something more than this. And I’m sure there must be times when you feel impatient with Catholic Eucharistic discipline. The only thing I would say on this is to remind you that the doctrinal issues that divide us are still quite significant and can’t simply be ignored. Tremendous progress has been made on doctrinal matters—much more than most people are aware of—but there is still a long way to go. Just to mention one remarkable achievement, the Joint Declaration on Justification between the Catholics and the Lutherans has been the result of a very careful and thorough exploration of the fundamental issue at the heart of the Protestant Reformation. The conclusion was that, although there are still differences, these are not so great as to divide our churches any more. There are other issues which still divide us, but this one great achievement is a great encouragement to all of us who long for Christian unity. Other aspects of interchurch families I’d just like to note briefly some further aspects of interchurch families, which I have gathered particularly from reading Ruth’s article. I was interested to notice that not all ‘mixed marriages’ would necessarily be regarded as interchurch, in terms of the attitude of the couple. One or both might only be nominal in their Christianity. One or other might convert. They might worship quite separately, in such a way that there is no contact between the two traditions within their marriage. For you, the word ‘interchurch’ says something important about your own attitudes and ideals. I also noticed that we’re talking about something that is very individual to each marriage and to each family. How the couple achieve the interchurch dimension of their marriage is unique to each couple. There’s no blueprint for how this has to be done (just as there is no blueprint for a happy marriage, though there are perhaps certain pointers that can be shared). It also struck me that, like ecumenism itself, interchurch families are sometimes seen as a problem, when in reality they are an opportunity. 9 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

Negative attitudes are probably less common than they were, but I’m sure you still experience this as painful at times. Perhaps this was more so in the 1960s and 70s than nowadays. Many couples felt isolated and unappreciated. That’s why the Association of Interchurch Families has been so important, as a sort of support group and as a way of articulating the ideals by which you try to live. On the other hand, to look at the positive side, your experience has given you something to offer others who are working and praying for Christian unity. Many ecumenists look back to the 60s and 70s with a certain nostalgia, based (I think) on the fact that in those days people believed that unity was not far off. In fact, even though the final goal now seems further off, we have made a great deal of progress since those days. My guess is that you probably find it easier to be an interchurch family now, than you did (say) forty or fifty years ago— those of you who (like me) are old enough to have been around in those days! Then again, you have a motivation for Christian unity that is sometimes lacking elsewhere. Because of your situation, you cannot ever be content with a sort of parallel but separate existence between our churches. It may not be necessary for our various churches to adopt a common organisation and structure, but as interchurch families you can’t be content with anything short of full communion between the churches to which you belong. I find that there can be a temptation to say that, if we can work together and pray together at least some of the time, then that’s enough. I really don’t believe that’s being faithful to Jesus’ desire for his Church to be one. We mustn’t lose faith in that long-term goal—and as interchurch families you are in a good position to remind us of that fact. I’d like to end by picking up a couple more advantages of receptive ecumenism—and again you can judge whether this fits in with your own experience. Some further advantages of receptive ecumenism One advantage of receptive ecumenism is that I can experience the benefits here and now. I don’t have to wait until the final goal of full unity is achieved. Traditionally, ecumenism has looked forward, rightly, to the day when we are visibly united—whatever form that unity might take. But many people feel they’re being asked to do things here and now— HENDRICKS Interchurch Families & Receptive Ecumenism 10 things which may be difficult. At least they are things which take up time and attention which they probably feel could be better used in other ways. And they feel they’re being asked to do this for the sake of a future which seems a long way off. To put it very simply, they feel the pain now, but the gain is in some future time which may never come. As I said earlier, I do believe it’s extremely important not to lose sight of our ultimate goal, the unity for which Christ prayed. But it’s also a great help to us to realise that there are rewards to be gained which we don’t have to wait for, which we can experience here and now. Another advantage is that receptive ecumenism is something I can benefit from, without relying on people from other churches to do the same. In order to explain this, I want you to compare it with a very different situation. Let’s imagine (though it isn’t true) that I find it difficult to get on with my brother John. I might say to myself, if only John behaved differently, if only he would not do such-and-such a thing that I find annoying, then there would be no problem. The apparent solution is for the other person to change. But that’s not under my control. It’s no good my wasting my life wishing that John were different. The question is what can I do about it? How can I alter my behaviour or my attitude, so that what he does is no longer a problem? In almost any human situation, that is always the question to ask, because we’re now talking about something that really is under my control. In the same way, I might think to myself that we could achieve Christian unity if only the Anglicans were different in such-and-such a way, or if the Methodists didn’t do such-and-such a thing—or, to put it very simply: if everyone else were more like us. Those of you who are old enough to remember the musical My Fair Lady will also remember Professor Higgins’ song: Why can’t a woman be more like a man? We, the audience, know he is being foolish. He would do much better to stop wishing that Eliza Doolittle would behave differently. He really needs to understand why she behaves as she does—which is actually much more reasonable than he supposes. In the same way, it makes a lot more sense to learn from other churches than to waste time wishing that they were more like us. Receptive ecumenism is sometimes presented in terms of the idea that, if all the churches were willing to learn from each other, we would gradually become more united. But although that would be a 11 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 good thing, it isn’t required in order for receptive ecumenism to be effective. If that were so, we’d probably all be waiting for the other churches to make the first move. The false assumption is that by learning from other churches, we are making some concessions to them. We feel we are sacrificing something of our own identity—and we’re reluctant to do this unless they are doing the same. But the truth is that by learning from other churches, I am the one to benefit. It is my experience of being a Christian that is enriched. Learning from the Baptists, the Anglicans and the Orthodox (for instance) doesn’t make me less Catholic. In fact, you could say that it makes me more catholic (with a small ‘c’)—since ‘catholic’ of course means ‘universal’ and is therefore the very opposite of the ghetto mentality we sometimes used to fall into. It’s not about ‘letting go’ but about ‘embracing more’ Receptive ecumenism is a challenge to the idea that ecumenism is essentially about letting go of all those doctrines which divide Christians from each other. People often assume that the way to unite Christians is to look for whatever is the same in all churches, a set of doctrines to which all can agree. Anything else becomes a sort of optional extra—something you can believe if you like, but you don’t have to. The question then becomes how much can we let go of, in order to achieve this unity. The result is that ecumenism is seen in negative terms, as a matter of losing various things that are specific to us as (say) Catholics or Methodists—even though this is for the sake of a very significant long-term gain. Receptive ecumenism takes the opposite approach. There are things that I, as a Catholic, can learn from the Anglicans, the Methodists, the Baptists and the Pentecostals. Churches are divided, not because some have unnecessary ‘extra’ doctrines which make life difficult. They’re divided because churches have each lost something over the centuries, as a result of their separation. This happens almost inevitably because, in order to emphasise one aspect of what it means to be a Christian, we can all too easily overlook or under-emphasise another aspect. For example, because Catholics see a great importance in a universal teaching authority, we have at times lost sight of the role of the in the life of the individual believer. HENDRICKS Interchurch Families & Receptive Ecumenism 12

I was recently speaking on the topic, ‘What do I pray for when I pray for Christian unity?’ I finished by summing up the sort of future I imagine may come about one day, though it will probably not happen in my lifetime. So, if you’ll excuse me quoting from myself... What I pray for is the day when we can overcome the misunderstandings that have led to the condemnations of the past. I pray for the day when we can not only recognise the positive affirmations and traditions of each other’s churches, but actively embrace them. I pray for the day when we can all have the sacramental understanding of the Catholics, the liturgical awareness of the Orthodox, the preaching ability of the Methodists, the commitment to personal testimony of the Pentecostals, the community service of the Salvation Army. And then one day perhaps we can have a more perfect form of that remarkable combination of traditions which exists in , and which in some ways already foreshadows that inclusive future for which I pray. 13 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

THE CHEMIN NEUF COMMUNITY IN ENGLAND

Charles Hadley*

The Chemin Neuf Community is a young religious community, not yet 40 years old, born in at Lyon from a marriage of Ignatian and charismatic spirituality. Tim Watson gave a comprehensive account of its origins and vocation in ONE IN CHRIST (Summer, 2009) vol.43 no.1. This article seeks to focus on the arrival of the Chemin Neuf Community in England; and especially the ecumenical dimension, given the strong emphasis in the life and work of the Chemin Neuf on the call to unity and reconciliation.

Part 1 of this essay (Foundation) tells the story leading up to the foundation of the first house at Langport in Somerset. This began with the sabbatical visit to France in 1992 to find out more about the French New Communities. The second part (Establishment) explains the early years of life at St Gildas. Part 3 (Developments) touches on recent new initiatives, including a second house from 2007. 1. Foundation The Chemin Neuf does not consider itself to be founded in a country until it has a house there. This is currently true of around 27 countries in the world. But often the establishment of a house is the result of several years’ earlier activity. The first event to occur in England was a CANA session in November 1993. CANA is one of the Community missions, based around a ‘session’, time out for couples lasting six days. Through worship, prayer, teaching and private time together, couples have the opportunity to go deeper in their relationship with each other and with the Lord Jesus Christ. Children are looked after

* Charles Hadley is an Anglican priest, ordained after beginning professional life working for the Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking Corporation. He has had experience as a parish priest in rural, New Town and market town parishes and as a University Chaplain at Exeter. He and his wife, Felicity, are now in living and working full time with the Chemin Neuf Community at Ecce Homo Convent on the Via Dolorosa

HADLEY The Chemin Neuf Community in England 14 and have their own ‘time apart’. The opportunity to renew your faith and receive ‘baptism in the Holy Spirit’ is offered to all participants. Many couples have testified that it was at a CANA session that they first began truly to listen to each other, accept and forgive each other and to put Christ at the heart of their marriage. The session happened as the indirect result of a Sabbatical project; the plan initially was to study ‘new’ forms of community life from a historical perspective. But while planning the Sabbatical, my wife Felicity and I met an Orthodox priest, half English, half Belgian called Yves Dubois, who told us about the New Communities in France that had burst into life from the early 1970s. We first made a short visit to the Community of Les Béatitudes at Les Essarts near Rouen, who gave us a warm welcome. We decided to spend the Sabbatical time in the autumn of 1992 staying with seven New Communities in France (six nights in each with a 24-hour break in a hotel after each stay). In the course of three months travelling around France, many people from different communities spoke to us about ‘CANA’, a marriage mission sustained by the Chemin Neuf Community. As a parish priest (and, like Felicity, a Franciscan Tertiary) I was well aware of the ‘poverty’ of many marriages, including, I came to realise, my own, and was excited by this mission. A month later, at a conference in hosted by Chemin Neuf on the St Eustorgio Evangelism Project addressed by Pigi Perini from Milan, I spoke to Community leaders who promised to run a session in England if three couples would come. We decided to look for at least two other couples from the parish who were willing to give it a try. The November session (at the Community of the Open Door at Childswickham in Worcestershire) was a pilot session with three participating couples. The first arrivals were amused to see a notice on the five-bar gate of the farm next door saying ‘Guinea pigs for sale’! They were three Anglican couples and the team running the session were two French Catholic couples, an English Catholic couple and an English Catholic sister of the Community then living in France. So an ecumenical atmosphere was a ‘given’. The team was led by François and Laurence Cartier, then leaders of the CANA missions worldwide. As we drove to Childswickham together, François asked why there were so many bonfires visible from the road. ‘Oh,’ I said without thinking, ‘that is for Bonfire Night’. ‘What’s that?’ asked François. ‘It’s to do with someone called Guy 15 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

Fawkes…’ I began. For me it was a salutary reminder that ecumenism begins with an awareness of our fractured histories. The English Catholic couple had just returned from working in France having participated in a session there and been involved in marriage support work: they provided vital musical and linguistic help. The other French couple had just moved to England with work and they had done a CANA retreat in France. The English Catholic sister helped translate, facilitate and explain local customs; this proved helpful when, one evening, the ‘team’ emerged from a planning time to find the house empty: the couples had disappeared down to the pub—not standard CANA practice!

CANA pilot session participants

We had received a warm welcome from the other churches when I moved to the parish of Somerton in Somerset to become incumbent in 1992. And Rodger Calderwood, participant with his wife in the first session, had had a dream of a parish-based form of community life. So, an ecumenical parish community group was started in Somerton, with participants from the first and subsequent CANA sessions well represented. Numbering around 6-10 people and meeting weekly for (charismatic) prayer, occasional meals and times of retreat, the group contained members of the Anglican parish, the Evangelical and Pentecostal chapels and the local . Nicknamed the HADLEY The Chemin Neuf Community in England 16

‘Round the Bend’ (RTB) group, this became a forum for praying and living a more radical form of Christian discipleship in the local community. The Group felt sure that God had something waiting for them, but not yet visible, round the bend. One of their retreat times was a weekend at St Gildas Christian Centre in Langport, the next door parish. This was led by Jacqueline Coutellier, one of the seven founders of the Chemin Neuf Community and Michel Le Piouff, a Community priest. It was at this time that the RTB group first heard from Jacqueline about Tim Watson, a young lecturer at Oxford University. His academic speciality was the history of sixteenth century Lyon, the birthplace of the Chemin Neuf. He had met the Community in Lyon during a study visit in 1995 (see his article). Meanwhile, the CANA project in England was first supervised by Dominique D’Arcy (the English sister at Childswickham), then by a French couple living in Richmond near London, the Devillers. Small sessions were run in 1994 and 1995. After the 1995 session it was clear that the leaders all needed some quality time together. A CANA retreat in renovated farm buildings in Devon (and with some of the younger children being looked after at home by one of the couples) restored confidence. Concurrently, in November 1995 we helped facilitate the first CANA session in East Africa in Kenya (previously CANA had only been run in Francophone West Africa). The SPEC Centre at London Colney (part of the London Diocese Retreat House near St Albans) was booked for the 1997 session and 17 couples (and one dog) turned up, the largest turnout thus far. Now realising the importance of a retreat, and also with increasingly close contacts with the Chemin Neuf Community (we made several trips to France, and to meet Chemin Neuf and CANA International Team leaders in the late 90s), another retreat, the Exercises of St Ignatius, was held at SPEC Centre in 1998, again conducted by leaders of the Chemin Neuf Community. As well as having another CANA session, 1999 proved to be a significant year. In April, the Chemin Neuf issued an invitation to a retreat at Livry on the southern edge of Paris for all English people who might consider a closer link with the Community. 12 people responded of whom 6 acknowledged a call to join the Chemin Neuf. Others present joined the Community later and likewise some who were not present. Included in the latter category was Tim Watson, then a lecturer at Newcastle University. By August 1999 there were 17 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 three couples, all from Somerton parish and a bachelor, Tim, who made their first commitment to the Chemin Neuf. All were Anglicans. Now, during this retreat Laurent Fabre, Chemin Neuf’s founder and leader, was speaking on the phone with the Vicar-General of Clifton Diocese. Clifton Diocese had been running St Gildas Christian Centre at Langport in Somerset for several years but wanted to withdraw. The diocese was asking if the Chemin Neuf might be interested in taking occupancy of St Gildas, a substantial country mansion built for the banking family of Stuckey with around 48 beds and a large garden. It was and still is owned by the Sisters of Instruction. The Sisters are a Breton teaching order with a distinct ecumenical flavour. When the laicité laws of 1905 forced many religious communities to quit France, they came to Langport; they started by doing washing to earn an income, then the local Anglican vicar’s wife asked for French lessons; later, a school was started which continued until 1991. The Catholic diocese had turned the house into a retreat and welcome centre and one of the trustees was John Horne, a member of the ‘Round the Bend’ ecumenical community group. It was his suggestion for the diocese to sound out Chemin Neuf. Within a month or so, negotiations were under way and the Chemin Neuf Community moved into St Gildas, situated in the same Catholic and the neighbouring Anglican parish to Somerton, at the end of August. The fact that six of the seven who at Livry made the first decision to walk with the Chemin Neuf lived within five miles of St Gildas was a major factor in the decision to accept St Gildas. The Chemin Neuf Community now had its first house in the . 2. Establishment To found a new house is a challenge, whatever the circumstances, and the first house in a new country even more so. I was the leader of the Community for the first three years whilst continuing to work as a fully occupied parish priest at Somerton, a benefice of five churches: my nearest approach to community life had been ten years in boarding schools, so for me and for everyone involved, the foundation at St Gildas was a huge and steep learning curve. Most of the English Community members continued to live in their own houses in what is called ‘neighbourhood fraternity’. The team running St Gildas (the house fraternity) consisted of two single brothers and one single sister of the Community along with a young HADLEY The Chemin Neuf Community in England 18 woman close to the Community, all from France or (whose population is often bilingual in English and French). And quite soon the Calderwoods from Somerton moved in too (to the former Presbytery in the house). For the French, the language was different (though all spoke good English), none of their local brothers and sisters were Catholic and, it has to be said, the Catholic Church in England did not always operate in familiar ways. The ecclesial welcome from Bishop Declan of Clifton and a little later the Anglican Bishop of Bath and Wells could not have been warmer, the ecumenical desire could not have been stronger, the faith in Christ and the power of the Spirit could not have been more fervent… mais, quand même! The Chemin Neuf team in the house changed from year to year. Membership of the house has at times been weighted towards celibate women, at other times more towards couples; they have been from France or Mauritius or . Of the original team one, Corinne, stayed for five years, until a relationship with a Community friend in Mauritius from student days, was revived and blossomed into marriage; Corinne would later return with Joel and young Joseph in 2010. Leadership of the house has moved from celibate brother or sister to Catholic or Anglican couple. Responsibility for the Community in England passed to Dominique Ferry, who arrived in 2002 with Marie- Christine, his wife. The first English leader of St Gildas was Alan Morley-Fletcher. He and Ione were the first English couple to work full-time for the Community, living first for two years at Les Pothières, the Community house of formation near Lyon where a three month formation programme is run and the CANA Families mission secretariat based. A couple from the Somerton Evangelical St Cleers Chapel came to live in the Presbytery with their three boys in 2008. On occasion, people would come from France or other places with Chemin Neuf links to spend weeks or months helping with the running of the house. The pressing early tasks were: a) to create a legal foundation which took into account English charity law and was recognised by the Sisters of Instruction; b) to secure an adequate funding base to provide for the livelihood of the house and to initiate a mission specific to the Community; and c) to cultivate relationships with the local parishes and churches: a school or a diocesan retreat centre at St 19 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

Gildas were familiar entities. But a new French religious community was at first harder to comprehend. a) Discussions were set in hand to set up a proper working agreement with the Sisters of Instruction. This took time but finally with legal advice a ten-year lease was signed and a limited liability company was set up registered with the Charity Commissioners and Companies House as a UK charity. b) It was decided to continue with as many of the regular group bookings, some by religious groups who came on an annual basis, some schools (Confirmation weekends etc), some by secular groups like Age Concern and AA (Alcoholics Anonymous). Besides running and maintenance costs, there was still a wage bill as the cook and the gardener were retained until plans became clearer for the programme of the house. (There had been 5 paid employees). As well as giving an income these groups enabled connections to be made and news about the presence of Chemin Neuf at St Gildas to be disseminated more widely. More bookings were invited through publicity in the Good News magazine, the Retreats Organisation journal and diocesan mailings (Catholic and Anglican). During the early years, servicing these groups took up most of the team’s energy. Gradually Community missions were started. From the year 2000 the Community began organising another CANA session and hosting CANA weekends as well as some weekend Bible studies. Later, Spiritual Exercises retreats began, as befits an Ignatian-inspired community. At the same time CANA fraternities started meeting. After a CANA session couples are invited to join a fraternity group within striking distance of their homes for a monthly meeting and three weekends for all the fraternities. Many return with their children to help with the next session. And many do a follow-up CANA retreat. This fosters an awareness of the CANA mission in local churches and leads to personal invitations to a session, which is the most effective form of advertising for CANA. The major Community mission was the establishment of a Language School for young people who had met the Community through youth events in Europe: French, Poles, Hungarians as well as Egyptians participated in a three month autumn course of language lessons and shared Community life. Another three month course ran from January, though later this was discontinued. Summer schools of three to four weeks for teenagers and young adults from abroad also proved HADLEY The Chemin Neuf Community in England 20 popular. For the Chemin Neuf the Language School (here and in France) is more than a place for young people to learn English. An essential ingredient is a spiritual formation run alongside the English lessons. For many of the Language School (or Programme) students their time at St Gildas proved to be a turning point in their life of faith and a rich spiritual experience. As well as Language School students, St Gildas usually has several other young people working in the house as part of a spiritual course for some week or for a whole year. Later, Spiritual Exercises, healing retreats and programmes of formation were run in addition to the Language School and the CANA events. And in time St Gildas required less and less financial subsidy from the worldwide Chemin Neuf Community. Chemin Neuf operates a Caisse Commune or central banking fund into which all income worldwide is channelled and from which all expenses are met. This enables foundations in new or poorer countries to meet their costs. It keeps a minimum reserve adequate to meet the funds needed for health and retirement costs of the life-committed members. Income is from gifts, tithing by wage earning members not living in a Community house, and by donations of food or materials or time: see Tim Watson’s article. Funds from the Caisse Commune go towards Chemin Neuf charitable work such as the project for the street children of in the Congo or the expenses of a CANA session in a poor country. c) A third early task was to make the Community’s work more widely known. One positive spin-off to these Community missions was that we needed help! Help with tuition and sometimes with hospitality from local churches created valuable links. And gradually a network of local supporters came into being, some of whom subsequently joined the Community. Another way the network of local friends assisted was in providing meals, accommodation and sometimes transport for trips to London or Oxford or other places nearer to hand. For the students and young helpers based at St Gildas this provided invaluable opportunities to engage with the English culture. Local people, especially Anglicans and Evangelicals with little previous experience of religious communities, had the opportunity to work out through personal contacts what was happening at St Gildas. Was it a monastery, a retreat house, a welcome centre, a mission base? Was it French or English, Catholic or Anglican or ecumenical, 21 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 for couples or singles, inside or outside local church structures? Was Chemin Neuf a traditional order or a new movement? Or, a mixture of all these things? Due to the ecumenical nature of Chemin Neuf’s beginnings in England, several local churches knew about this unfamiliar new experiment. The local Catholic church faced a particular challenge as they had always used, and still use, the chapel of St Gildas as their ‘parish’ church. It took time for an understanding of the spirituality and call of the Chemin Neuf to be understood and appreciated. A firm acceptance has been established and when the local Churches Together meetings happen they are often held at St Gildas as ‘neutral ground’. Besides local connections, in time members of the Community were asked to speak at gatherings further afield. Contact with groups and individuals using St Gildas as well as the personal networks of Community leaders have led to a variety of invitations to speak and to share in events outside Langport. Community members have spoken at prayer groups, the leaders have addressed the Bristol Catholic Diocese Day for Religious, and Dominique and Marie-Christine Ferry have extensive links with the Charismatic Renewal movement in Europe. Meanwhile other things were happening beyond England. In 2002 Tim Watson left his work to move to France and spend a year studying at ; he remained in France to work fulltime for the Community, and met his future wife Kate, an Australian Catholic who had also moved to France to join Chemin Neuf. During this time Tim became a member of the French archdeaconry synod and of French ARC (the Anglican-Roman Catholic Committee), helping to develop contacts between the Church of England and Chemin Neuf. Tim also discerned a call to ordained ministry, and in 2008 the Watsons began studying theology together in a partnership between Chemin Neuf and the Anglican Diocese in Europe, which also involved regular trips back to the UK for ministry training weekends. We continued to facilitate CANA missions in Kenya and in Boston, USA. Thus, the English foundation, the Chemin Neuf’s first venture into the Anglo-Saxon world, became an entry point into a wider Anglophone scene. HADLEY The Chemin Neuf Community in England 22

3. Developments The Chemin Neuf Community prefers to have two houses in a country where possible, one for retreat and formation, the other for a particular mission such as a presence in a parish or a centre for healing ministry or a student hostel. Langport is beautifully situated on a hill overlooking the Somerset Levels but it is a small country town with restricted social opportunities for young students. And the nearest railway station and airport (Bristol Lulsgate) are not at all close to the house which makes it time-consuming to fetch and carry visitors from abroad. On the other hand this means a quicker immersion in a traditional rural English environment as well as confrontation with the more practical differences between English and French habits in daily life! However, a big new step was when the Catholic diocese of Southwark asked the Community to take on the Catholic Chaplaincy of the South Bank and Goldsmiths Universities in South London. This was followed in 2010 by a move across the river to More House (opposite the Natural History Museum) to assist with the student hostel owned by the Canoness Sisters of St Augustine and to provide the Catholic Chaplain for Imperial College. More recently, Tim Watson completed his ordination training and was ordained deacon by the Bishop of Europe in August 2011 at an Anglican Eucharist during the French Community Week attended by 500 or more members of the Community in France (mostly Catholic but with Reformed Church, Mennonite, Baptist and other confessions). This was the first ordination of an Anglican member of the Community and expresses very concretely the ecumenical aspiration of the Community. Tim is serving his curacy based at Liverpool Cathedral; the Dean there (now Bishop of Durham), who had encountered Chemin Neuf while travelling internationally as part of his reconciliation work for the Anglican Communion, thought that the Community might be able to contribute to developing the prayer life of the Cathedral, and also the Liverpool ecumenical scene. In 2012 sixteen members of the Community, Catholic, Evangelical and Anglican, spent Holy Week on mission at Liverpool Cathedral, where they led services and organised a series of guided prayer evenings. Tim will be ordained priest in June. Also this summer, the CANA mission will hold its first session in Ireland, another significant new step. One of the convenors of the 23 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 forthcoming session attended a Spiritual Exercises retreat at St Gildas in 2008 (which was nearly cancelled because of small numbers). She and her husband subsequently attended a CANA session at St Gildas, then returned to help along with friends they had invited to do the session for the first time. Over four years a nucleus of couples was formed until it seemed right to approach the Community’s International CANA team about holding a session in Ireland. Conclusion An anecdotal article of this kind can only tell a story. Issues such as ecclesiology, formation, authority and the like cannot be addressed here. What the Chemin Neuf in England has found, as have foundations in other non-Francophone countries especially in an Anglo-Saxon context, is that time is needed, time for the Community to bed down in a new culture, time for understanding, trust and appreciation to be built up. After what feels like a long and slow beginning, fruit starts to appear, often in unexpected forms. This article is more of a testimony, telling how the core values of a Catholic Community, Ignatian and charismatic with an ecumenical vocation, and the yearnings of a number of apparently disparate individuals have been brought together by the grace of the Holy Spirit. Full visible unity is our dream, in obedience to our Lord’s Prayer ‘that they may be one’. In the meantime, until that unity is realised, we live and work and pray with our differences, experiencing joy and pain in our separateness, yet doing all that we can to further that unity and advance the kingdom of Christ on earth.

The Chemin Neuf Logo 24

BEYOND ECUMENICAL DIALOGUE

Thomas Hughson SJ*

In a session on ‘Dialogue Beyond the Ecumenical Movement’ at Assisi 2012, Thomas Hughson and Martyn Percy explored unofficial ecumenism. ‘Beyond Ecumenical Dialogue’ reprises a limit in official, modern dialogues and applies a theme in Aquinas’s analysis of love to ecumenism. Aquinas locates a triadic not dyadic structure in friendship. A third element in friendship implies that dialogical language and a concept of mutuality do not fully account for the relationship. Friendship between and among churches also can be a ‘we’ because of a common orientation to people, causes, and values external to churches.

Introduction From 17 to 20 April 2012 the Ecclesiological Investigations Research Network convened an unusual ecumenical conference in Assisi. The banner theme was ‘Where We Dwell in Common: Pathways for Dialogue in the 21st Century’. Approximately two hundred ecumenically concerned Christians gathered from fifty-five countries, most Christian traditions, and three generations. Presentations, panels, discussions, friendships new and renewed, common meals, and inimitable Italian restaurants generated a lively, hopeful spirit in an uncertain time. Reverent, carefully prepared public prayer was part of each day in such striking churches as the basilicas of Santa Maria degli Angeli, San Francesco, and Santa Chiara. Some services featured a participant also an excellent recorder player. The closing banquet was filled with joy and good humor. Three times Archbishop Domenico Sorrentino, Bishop of Assisi, led prayer with the assembled

* Thomas Hughson SJ is emeritus in Theology at Marquette University (USA), after serving as Director of Graduate Studies in Theology. From 1986-1989 he was religious superior and dean at the Pontifical Biblical Institute-Jerusalem. Associate Editor of Theological Studies, co-editor of an Ashgate series in Ecclesiology, charter member of the Society for the Study of Anglicanism, his ‘Missional Churches in a Secular Society: Theology Consults Sociology’ appeared in Ecclesiology 7 (2011).

25 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 ecumenists. But there were no official dialogues between church spokespeople, no delegates, and no authorized theological positions that defined the theological space. Instead there was conscientious fidelity to various traditions along with readiness to think anew about paths to deeper unity. ‘Assisi 2012’, the short form of the conference title, was unusual in seeking new pathways in ecumenism instead of treading the well-worn pathways of existing dialogues. An opening talk by lead organizer Gerard Mannion (University of San Diego, US), ‘Thinking Outside the Ecumenical Box: Pathways and Resources for Dialogue That Lie Behind and Before Us’, put ecumenism in an atypical, illuminating framework.1 Mannion directed attention to the essential role of informal, unauthorized, unofficial concerns for unity no less than to official dialogues. With attention to Northern Ireland Mannion drew an analogy between diplomacy connecting aggrieved parties and ecumenism linking divided churches. In the opening plenary lecture, ‘Thinking Beyond Conflict and Confrontation: Lessons from the Quest for Peace’, Paul Arthur (University of Ulster, N. Ireland) spoke from personal involvement in and academic expertise on the peace process in Northern Ireland. Arthur identified two tracks essential in bringing about a new state of affairs in Northern Ireland. Track 1 was diplomatic, seeking ways to connect the two sides in official, authorized meetings and protracted negotiations for the sake of binding agreements. However, any official outcome would have been fruitless unless received into an already changing set of conditions that had been emerging from grass-roots developments. A successful outcome depended on an accompanying, independent, parallel track 2 in local, unofficial initiatives and on an allying of personal, familial, and neighborhood interests toward a peaceful Northern Ireland. Art, poetry, music, and literature played indispensable roles. Mannion applied the two tracks to divided Christianity. The short- lived, East/West rapprochement at the 1439 Council of Florence provided a case in point of track 1 ecumenism having proceeded on its own apart from track 2. Perhaps I was not alone in hearing Florence as a cautionary tale about excessive reliance on Faith and Order or other dialogues concentrating on reconciliation of doctrinal meanings. A track 2 in diplomacy or in ecumenism generates conditions for the

1 See Gerard Mannion's report on Assisi 2012 below, 146-52. HUGHSON Beyond Ecumenical Dialogue 26 possibility of receiving an accord reached on track 1. However, more than preparing a passive soil for reception of track 1, track 2 provides a substratum of momentum, desire, hope, and commitment expressed in insights, local praxis, and creative art able to inspire and instruct track 1. Local initiatives and informal activities rather than authorized representation characterize track 2. At the same time, insisted Mannion, sometime and somehow there also needs to be a mid-point between the two tracks so they can be of benefit to each other in movement toward a deepened Christian unity. Assisi 2012 was a theologically-reflective track 2 conference open to seeking that mid- point with track 1 but not strictly dependent on it. During the four-day conference concurrent panels followed morning, afternoon, and evening plenary sessions. In one such panel chaired by Revd Randy J. Odchigue (Philippines), Revd Canon Dr. Martyn Percy from Cuddesdon Hall (England) and myself from Marquette University (US) teamed up on the topic, ‘Dialogue Beyond the Ecumenical Movement’.1 Thanks to emailed correspondences and a history of common interest in the Society for the Study of Anglicanism that Percy and Rob Slocum (US) convene at the annual American Academy of Religion meeting we were on the same or a similar wavelength. Percy had some powerful things to say for which I am grateful but that I won’t attempt to summarize. Nor will these reflections try to incorporate Percy’s narratives and insights. Instead, and before the event slips too far into the past there follows a brief, edited resume of my preparatory notes that sketch some ideas. During and after the conference the track 1/track 2 distinction inflected my pre-conference thinking. As a result the title to this article alters the name of the session. Dialogue The topic of the Percy/Hughson session may seem to come from transgressive ingrates. Dialogue ‘beyond’ the ecumenical movement suggests that dialogue within the ecumenical movement no longer suffices, thereby placing in question rather than celebrating or advancing the conference theme, ‘Pathways for Dialogue in the 21st Century.’ In light of a two-track model for ecumenism the dialogue

1 For Martyn Percy's article 'Strangers in Our Midst: Adoption and Implicitness in Ecclesial Life' see below, 38-48. 27 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 made an object of inquiry in our session was on the track 1 level. Perhaps that is why a proposal for the session did not trouble open- minded conference organizers attentive to what was to be called track 2 ecumenism. There is no derogation of official dialogues. But there is a line of questioning. In terms of Hans-Georg Gadamer’s philosophy the ecumenical movement has entered into a hermeneutical situation in which a familiar tradition has become strange and so, to be sustained, needs interpretation. Ecumenical dialogue, that is, has left the realm of self-evident validity and has become something to interrogate before resuming. To be sure, dialogue has been the method par excellence of the modern ecumenical movement. From Edinburgh in 1910 on, commitment to a method of dialogue has sprung from the theological virtues nurtured by the Holy Spirit in various Christians of all participating churches, denominations, and movements. Historically conscious recognition of misguided triumphalisms has humbled stalwart faith. Hope has looked ahead to some type of visible unity. Charity has attended to what already united rather than what still divided. What more apt manner of relationship and communication than faithful, hopeful, and charitable dialogue to express at once that Christians hold more in common than what divides them, and that divisions countering the known will of Christ require respectful exchanges? And in official dialogues representatives have presented, listened, learned, and discovered unsuspected common ground with those from whom they have been divided. The method of dialogue has produced outstanding results. Immense progress has taken place in understanding and appreciating different beliefs, worship, polity, piety, and normative value judgments that shape discipleship. Setbacks are part of the picture too but do not erase multiple commitments to seeking unity. Eventually the Catholic church pledged itself to ecumenism at Vatican II. Evangelicals and Pentecostals, two of the most rapidly growing bodies of Christians, have entered into ecumenism as well. Bi-lateral and multi-lateral dialogues under the auspices of the World Council of Churches’ Faith and Order Commission have produced heralded and some lesser- known areas of agreement. Milestones have been reached, such as ARCIC I-III, and Lutheran/Catholic agreement to differ in non-church dividing approaches to justification. HUGHSON Beyond Ecumenical Dialogue 28

At the same time, and often, ecumenists lament a gap between what has transpired in formal dialogues and facts on the ground within and among churches. Sometimes the lament looks to the gap in terms of distance between a church’s leaders and the people in the pews, with a tone of regret that the people are so slow to catch on, so bound by inertia, so far behind their leaders. Mannion’s tracks 1 and 2, however, and the Percy/Hughson session do not join that lamentation. Nor do tracks 1 and 2 coincide precisely with Faith and Order and with Life and Work respectively. The tracks usher in genuine development when both meet at a mid-point between them, humorously called track 1½. Track 2 has prudential and artistic originality to which track 1 can appeal and from which it can receive inspiration and insight. The tracks are in a relationship more akin to theory/praxis reciprocity than to a teaching church/learning church model. Track 1 ecumenical dialogue has come to seem productive at the highest levels among churches yet less than effectual as an influence both on pastoral practice and in the lives of people within churches. Religious indifference to Christian divisions registers the impact of heightened secularization, but ecumenical lassitude has fallen upon even active church members. Speaking about an ecumenical winter, a stalemated condition, a loss of momentum has lost its capacity to provoke and a non-eschatological fatalism has settled in. Hence Assisi 2012 had a timely purpose in resisting fatalism and exciting hope. Many of us seem to feel a degree of disenchantment but not resistance to church authorities. Have major outcomes in lived religion, practice, and local actualizations of Christian fellowship ensued upon track 1 reconciliations and convergences? For example, the long-standing Lund question seems mainly to have been forgotten. Why not carry out interim modes of cooperation and common witness wherever uncompromised consciences permit before eventual fuller communion? On the whole the question does not seem to have prompted a lot of enacted answers on the part of leaders and people. With some noteworthy exceptions an interim possibility of developing common witness to many principles on a Christian social agenda languishes. Assisi 2012 offered an opportunity to refresh traditional ecumenical thinking. The method of dialogue has been at once an enveloping horizon within which words and deeds have transpired when churches have opened their doctrinal standpoints and modes of polity to those of 29 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 other churches. Dialogue also has been the definite, formal structure of reciprocal, strenuous respect, love, and inquiry in official discussions between and among divided churches. Presupposing support for all that the track 1 method of dialogue has brought about to benefit unity, a question can be raised without prejudice to ongoing, official work. Might the method of dialogue itself be an unnoticed part of the problem? At some point, and who knows exactly when, might the formal structures of ecumenical dialogue have become in certain respects constraints? How could that be? Ecumenism is first of all a new way of being Christian, an unprecedented reception and activation of the grace of personal and ecclesial faith, hope, and charity. The Percy/Hughson session on ‘Dialogue Beyond the Ecumenical Movement’ signals departure in thought from principal reliance on formally structured dialogues, not from the spirit of dialogue. We wonder if highly organized structures of ecumenical dialogue, the letter of the method, may not have over- determined the horizon and spirit of dialogue. That is, in a new vocabulary of tracks 1 and 2 has track 1 embodied over-determination of the horizon within which dialogues emerged? Might new pathways return to a yet-to-be-determined, non-methodical practice, spirit, or horizon of dialogue that focuses on friendship among Christians from divided churches and among the churches as itself a method or model for a new way of being Christian? Could friendship among churches and members retain the horizon and spirit of dialogue without over- commitment to official, authorized exchanges? Could the horizon and spirit of dialogue be loosened from exclusive realization in formal structures in order to allow more room for friendships? From attention to which limits in dialogue does the question proceed? Three pre-understandings of dialogue are common and pertain first of all to bi-lateral and by extension to multi-lateral dialogues. One pre-understanding gained traction as corrective to assumptions about formation of the self as an autonomous individual with a personal identity. Wilhelm von Humboldt’s (1767-1835) philology identified a multi-linguistic grammar of personal pronouns in which an ‘I’ (Ich, je, io...) speaking involves a ‘you’ (du/Sie, tu/Vous, tu/Lei…) hearing. That is a basic structure in language and in formation of identity. The meaning of an ‘I’ entails a ‘you’. A self cannot be realized except in continual relationship with many who step into the role of ‘you’ and with others who speak as ‘I’. Participation in a linguistic community HUGHSON Beyond Ecumenical Dialogue 30 means being both an ‘I’ and a ‘you’, a speaker and a hearer. Philologically and conceptually, as a German phrase ran, ‘Kein Ich ohne Du’. Speaking has a dialogical structure. Dialogue has a privileged role in communication. Formal dialogues exit from me/you, or us/them antitheses to a mode of speech and relationship true to our linguistic selves. Consequently in an abeyance of former polemics ecumenical dialogues have presented themselves as authentic communication between formerly estranged churches and movements. A dyadic grammar structures dialogue. But, as will be seen, friendship is not dyadic. A variant on that pre-understanding flows from Martin Buber’s (1878-1935) famous exposition of the I-Thou relationship. Dialogue was the language of mutuality, so different from an I-It relationship in which, and with an overtone of domination, a person was demoted to instrumental significance for an ‘I’. In this pre-understanding too dialogue has a privileged status because it expresses respect for persons and openness to their self-understandings. Ecumenical dialogues exemplify that openness and desire for mutual understanding that respects an otherness of churches, previously an opposition between churches. This pre-understanding solidifies the privileged status of official dialogues. Yet again, friendship involves a third element that could be referred to as an ‘it’. A third, political pre-understanding may be closer to ordinary usage of the term ‘dialogue’. Spouses, friends, family members, close associates, and participants in a common task customarily do not describe their verbal communication as ‘dialogue’. More simply, ‘speaking with’, ‘talk’, ‘conversation’, ‘discussion’ or ‘a meeting’ fill the everyday bill. To say groups or individuals are engaging in ‘dialogue’ already connotes a prior state of tension or conflict that good will and concern for renewing ties seeks to bring beyond brokenness, animus, and polemics. Dialogue is the language of détente and negotiation not of unbroken bonds in a community of shared interest. In reference to Arthur’s and Mannion’s two tracks, ‘dialogue’ belongs to track 1. Has ‘dialogue’ come to be an ideal and practice so exemplary of seeking unity that it has pre-empted the search? Does ‘dialogue’ now limit that search? Might a little bit of criticism of track 1 ‘dialogue’ open up space for an encouraging emphasis on unofficial, unauthorized, interchurch friendships at more accessible, local, grass-roots sites on 31 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 track 2? Maybe the right side of the tracks temporarily has become the wrong side. Dialogue: Critical Questions The method of dialogue characterizes ecumenism. The modern ecumenical movement, as distinguished from earlier, uncoordinated initiatives toward reconciliation, is a modern phenomenon. Its birth in modernity may well be to some extent a birth from modernity. Modern parentage has imparted taken-for-granted features open to postmodern interrogation. For instance, to what extent has the meaning of ‘movement’ in the modern ecumenical movement been entangled with a dubious modern ideal of Progress that does not distinguish lack of forward movement from stillness? Can there be a hope for unity unalloyed with and not pre-defined by ‘Progress’? What would such a hope be like? Would it be less modern? Has a modern (not postmodern!) ideal of ‘Progress’ provided the unspoken horizon of hope within which bi-lateral and multi-lateral dialogues have taken place? If so it would explain why, as with Progress in science, technology, medicine, communications, transportation, etc. advances in ecumenical unity seem to involve a pressure to move forward, to establish clear benchmarks of movement. Has desire for unity tinged with Progress driven concern for achieving new degrees of ecclesial proximity that when absent stir disappointment? Is formation and consolidation of the ecumenical movement in the nineteenth and early twentieth century heyday of enthusiasm for Reason and Progress the reason why ecumenical dialogues ratchet along from an anthropocentric approach to the human agency of participants to a challenging reminder that a divided Christianity has to depend and wait on God? And if a modern ideal of Progress has bled into the modern ecumenical movement, has Progress also brought along all the problematic assumptions about the West as history’s privileged avant-garde, the universal standard, the classical norm associated with post-sixteenth century colonialism and a nineteenth century missionary movement out of which the ecumenical movement arose at Edinburgh in 1910? Missionaries’ awareness of how fractured, rivalrous presentations of the gospel blocked hearing of the gospel outside the West directed attention to Christian division as contrary to Christ’s prayer, will, and instituting of a community of faith with a mission to spread the gospel HUGHSON Beyond Ecumenical Dialogue 32 to all nations. Beyond adjustments in attitudes toward the global South and East on the part of Western Christianity, what internal changes to ecumenical consciousness and practice might postmodern extrication of evangelizing from association with Western colonialism portend? Do ecumenical dialogues bear within their structure many unexamined, historically effected meanings whose very taken-for- granted quality eliminates other possible paths in seeking Christian unity? If Christianity’s new centers of population will be in the global South, it would seem that ecumenism too will re-locate to some extent. What visions of time, history, harmony, and poverty will be forthcoming in a redefining of ecumenism? Can official dialogues gain perhaps a new finality, a tendency toward, church friendships of deepening charity and growing appreciation not only of Christian gifts in other churches but also with some degree of cooperation with other churches’ projects? On the other hand is there a valid, redeemed idea of progress that survives postmodern criticism? The following suggestion is but a marker for further reflection. I suggest that Bernard Lonergan’s theme of a dialectic between progress and decline as a constant in individual lives, in societies, and in history preserves a legitimate and discriminating ideal of ‘progress’. Progress in this view occurs in self- transcendence by persons and societies in a clear, continual tension with ‘decline’ due to lack of individual and corporate/social/ecclesial self-transcendence. History has fits and starts not an overall sweeping course. Refusals of religious, intellectual, and moral conversions are decline. In chapter 14 Lonergan concludes Method in Theology on an ecumenical note.1 He proposes that the constitutive meanings of a gospel way of life, meanings incarnated in chosen, enacted ways of living faith, hope, and charity under the influence of the Spirit, already provides common ground in divided Christianity. Most Christians and churches are able to recognize and praise holy lives. Constitutive Christian meaning is the realm of received and lived, not only formulated and professed, beliefs. The New Testament, for example, did not present the doctrines of the early councils starting with 1 Nicaea but the Apostles lived and evangelized according to Christian meanings the doctrines later expressed.

1 Bernard Lonergan, Method in Theology (New York: Seabury Press, 1972). 33 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

What most divides churches are divergent doctrinal formulations of the gospel’s cognitive meanings. While doctrinal dialogues continue without cessation Lonergan recommends that what may be most efficacious in the mean time are efforts to actualize constitutive meanings especially in ecumenical alliances among churches on behalf of authentic progress in societies beset by all manner of injustice. In other words, without belittling track 1 doctrinal dialogues, track 2 ecumenism can express gospel meanings in praxis of concrete realizations on a social agenda. Cooperation and common witness then underwrite and offer new insights to track 1 dialogues, nourishing their continuation and facilitating later reception. Alternative to Dialogue: Friendship as ‘We’ Here I will venture retrieval of a traditional Catholic resource. The purpose is to offer a heuristic concept for discovering alternatives to the pre-eminence of dialogues. I have no finished plan suited to applications, only something of a thought-experiment and a recommended praxis that allows wholesale re-orientation of desire and search for unity. Let me begin with an inductive moment in contemporary conditions. I know a number of members of the Anglican communion in the Episcopal church who teach at Catholic colleges and universities in the US. These faculty members endorse the Catholic project of higher education under Christian auspices. They cooperate toward goals set by Catholic administrators and faculty, sometimes themselves assuming administrative responsibilities. Common constitutive meanings on Christian education underlie this cooperation. They and their Catholic and other faculty colleagues speak as a ‘we’. As well, Catholic faculty members in graduate and undergraduate programs have been assisting Episcopal students toward advanced knowledge in theology. The graduate faculty of which I was a part for decades has had Catholic faculty in Theology teaching, supporting, and guiding Episcopal PhD candidates along with students connected to other churches. The Catholic members of the faculty (a majority) gave their expertise and encouragement to younger theologians in the Anglican communion, mainline Protestant denominations, evangelical and Pentecostal movements, and in the Lutheran tradition. Yet there was no official or unofficial departmental ‘dialogue’. Instead, there was common attention to Scripture and tradition, to authors, texts, and HUGHSON Beyond Ecumenical Dialogue 34 themes under study within an atmosphere of faith. In an important respect all of this collaboration exceeds mutuality inherent in an ideal of dialogue. Those involved have not looked to each other as much as to realities external to themselves before which they are side by side as a ‘we’. I elide and presuppose a common, graced focus on the Trinity, Incarnation, Kingdom of God, grace, along with increased mutual understanding due in part to doctrinal dialogues. And the work of St Thomas Aquinas offers a basis for starting to conceive the above kinds of collaboration as hinting at another pathway in ecumenism. Aquinas’s ideas enable thought to get beneath dialogues and to extricate the ecumenical ‘movement’ from attachment to a modern ideal and measurement of Progress. In the Summa Theologiae (ST) 1a2ae on love, and 2a2ae on charity Aquinas inquires into friendship and love.1 Rather than detailed exegesis I will sum up relevant themes and appropriate them to ecumenical purposes. In both parts of the ST love has a triadic structure that eludes I/you mutuality structured and spoken in a dialogue. The triadic structure is ‘beyond mutuality’ and outside dialogue because friendship has two objects not just the one that is the other person, group, or church. Aquinas distinguished two objects in the love of friendship. W. S. Sherwin points out that ‘in both early and later works Aquinas discerns a twofold tendency in love: the action of love directed toward a person (in the love of friendship) and toward the good we affirm for that person.’2 Primarily, friends are appreciated for their own sake. Secondarily, good things are desired for friends and so love of friendship extends to those good things we want friends to have. Goods desired for friends are a third element in friendship. Love of friendship includes a primary appreciation for persons and a secondary desire for their welfare. The desired welfare comes about in

1 Thomas Aquinas, Eric D’Arcy Latin text, English translation, Introduction, Notes and Glossary, Summa Theologiae 1a2ae. 22-30, Volume 19, The Emotions (Great Britain: Blackfriars, 1967); and Thomas Aquinas, R.J. Batten, OP, Latin text, English translation, Notes, Appendices & Glossary, Thomas Gilby, OP. Introduction, Summa Theologiae Volume 34, Charity, 2a2ae. 23-33 (Great Britain: Eyre & Spottiswoode Ltd, 1975). 2 W. S. Sherwin, OP, By Knowledge and By Love: Charity and Knowledge in the Moral Theology of St. Thomas Aquinas (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 2005), 80. 35 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 some measure by access to goods essential to human flourishing. Love for friends includes love for those essential goods. So friendship involves: 1) a friend, 2) goods essential to the flourishing of the other, 3) the other friend. A love desiring a good for a friend occurs within the dynamics of love of friendship seeking that good for another. The middle element, goods wanted for another, broadens mutuality to a triad. For example, spouses love one another and in that love also want each other to have and enjoy concrete goods such as a pleasant dwelling, a sufficient level of prosperity to enable a decent life, opportunities to associate with other friends, music, literature, growing faith, hope and charity, etc. The most exuberant third element in their love is a child/children they have procreated and love. Parents love their children and love food, clothing, shelter, and education that they want their children to have. In other friendships too there is not only appreciation of the good in another but also desire for other goods that benefit the other. Some goods are external to both persons and some are developments in another’s own capacities. Friendship can be applied in three ways to ecumenism. First, Christians of divided churches and the churches themselves can desire goods, the third element in friendship, for other churches. That does not mean only the good of an eventual visible unity but simpler things like projects arising out of the other’s present self-understanding. Presuming concord in conscience, Catholics might support some Anglican ministries. Anglicans might do likewise. The example of St. Basil/All Saints parish comes to mind, as do instances of Catholics and Anglicans cooperating in one another’s theological education. 1

1 In an Assisi 2012 presentation on ‘The Reality of an Ecumenical Shared Church’ Christine Lappine and Kevin Kelly explained a remarkable example of track 2 ecumenism. The one parish of St. Basil/All Saints outside Liverpool in Widnes was a ‘shared community’. Two congregations, one Anglican and the other Catholic, shared one church building, many parish activities, outreach, and non-Eucharistic services, including a common Liturgy of the Word then distinct Liturgies of the Eucharist. Starting in 1983 the Anglican and the Catholic bishop have assigned an Anglican and a Catholic priest to the joint parish. Recent changes on the Catholic side due to the priest shortage probably will make operation of the dual parish more difficult. A parish bulletin states that, ‘While we rejoice in being authentically Roman Catholic HUGHSON Beyond Ecumenical Dialogue 36

Second, friendship tends not to speak primarily in ‘dialogue’ but more in terms of a ‘we’ that can act toward external goods like operating a parish, going to a theater, translating Scripture, working for social justice, or communicating the gospel to others. Friends and family often act together. That kind of common act and community precedes, grounds the initial emergence of, and sustains an ‘I’ and a ‘you’ who can assume reciprocal roles. That commonality recommends continuous focus in ecumenism on what churches already have in common, not letting it be eclipsed by awareness of divisions and whatever model or prospect of eventual unity prevails. That sense of common faith already comes to realization when official dialogues begin with prayer in which all relate among themselves as a ‘we’ acting together in turning to God. The Percy/Hughson discussion dwelt on Anglican Evensong attended by Catholics as an instance of how singing together in worship exceeds ecumenical dialogue. Song goes somewhere that speech does not, and common worship goes past ecumenical dialogue into a ‘we’ before God. Thirdly, not only the triadic structure of love but Aquinas’s analysis of the origin of love bears on ecumenism. The first moment in human love, and in charity due to the influence of the Holy Spirit, is passive, receptive, and appreciative. For Aquinas, sums up Sherwin, ‘… before love is a principle of action love is a response to value ...’1 Love’s first act is ‘an affective enjoyment and affirmation of some good thing made known to us by reason … love is a response to the goodness of reality, to the real as it is or as it could be … a good that is [judged by reason as] somehow already in harmony with us.’2 A concrete good impresses us and evokes a positive response of appreciation that can become a motive for action. The project of receptive ecumenism out of the University of Durham and led by Paul Murray has this just right.3 Receptive ecumenism, it can be noted in light of Aquinas on love, is not one project among many but gives organized, conceptual direction to the very origin of a and Anglican respectively, we are committed to living out on a daily basis the implications of our baptismal unity’. 1 W. S. Sherwin, By Knowledge and By Love, 93. 2 Ibid. 95. 3 See Paul Murray (ed.), Receptive Ecumenism and the Call to Catholic Learning: Exploring a Way for Contemporary Ecumenism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008). 37 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 search for unity. A tendency toward deeper connection with another or others does not arise, according to Aquinas, from seeking some manner of deeper communion with them but from appreciating some already actual Christian excellence in them. Anglican Evensong and holy Anglican lives, for example, evoke admiration from Catholics, and others too. Apart from appreciation of Christian excellences in other churches all the repentance in the world for divisions cannot produce desire for deepening unity with other churches. Rather, ecclesial repentance ensues from realization of overlooked good in others now able to be welcomed. Heeding Christ’s injunction that they all may be one begins when some in one church are affected positively by Christian excellences, gifts, in other churches. Conclusion The forgoing sections have proposed a direction in track 2 ecumenism enlightened by Aquinas on love. Despite my initial intent not to risk misrepresenting by subsuming any of Percy’s content I cannot fail to do so in a Conclusion. One theme in our emailed exchanges before Assisi 2012 was his focus on shared or common problems facing the Anglican/Episcopal and Catholic communions. In standing side-by- side Anglican/Episcopal and Catholic churches enact something more than dialogical mutuality. A common struggle with consumerism, secularism, and on behalf of a coherent conjunction of daily life and faith joins them as a collaborative ‘we’. More, if each can throw some support where conscience permits to the other’s projects already underway according to present self-understandings the ‘we’ of cooperation becomes the ‘we’ of enacted friendship. And the common struggle extends I think to dealing with the causes and effects of rapacious rather than regulated capitalism, racism, nationalism, and the ecological crisis. Parallel social agendas could become in part at least a common agenda on which two communions have moved beyond dialogue into friendship that includes concern for the third element in love, goods wanted for those loved. The universal scope of Christ’s commandment to love others as oneself insures that ‘those loved’ are not limited to present members of either communion. 38

STRANGERS IN OUR MIDST: ADOPTION AND 1 IMPLICITNESS IN ECCLESIAL LIFE

Martyn Percy*

Churches rarely think about their identity in self-conscious ways but mostly assume their values, implicitly imbibing these from one generation to the next. In this brief essay, I want to argue that one key practice of the church—rarely discussed in ecclesiology or theology—is how the church acts as adoptive agencies. Welcoming the strangers and aliens in their midst; giving to them, but also receiving from them. This not only shows how Christians engage with culture; it is also a remark about the oft-hidden dynamic of reception, gift and charity.

For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but rather, a spirit of adoption. (Romans 8:15) If you could travel back in time to Paul’s Ephesus, you would notice, like any Mediterranean city of the day that they were buzzing with cultural and ethnic diversity—much like our cities today. But there were some crucial differences. It was difficult to keep order in such cities. Magistrates and other officers handed out justice, but a person who was not a citizen of that city could ask to be tried by their own people under their own laws.

1 I am enormously grateful to the Revd Professor Tom Hughson SJ for his comments and encouragement on this article; to all those engaged in the Assisi 2012 Ecumenical Ecclesiology Conference for their conversation and wisdom; and to Gerard Mannion for organising the event, thereby enabling a set of intentional and informal conversations, such as Tom and I were able to have. [For Hughson's article 'Beyond Ecumenical Dialogue' see above 24-37. Ed.] * Revd Canon Prof. Martyn Percy is a priest in the Church of England, and Principal of Ripon College, Cuddesdon, Oxford. He is also Professor of Theological Education at King’s College London, Professorial Research Fellow at Heythrop College London and the Patron of St. Francis’ Children’s Society—a Roman Catholic Adoption and Fostering Agency. He writes on Christianity and contemporary culture, modern ecclesiology and practical theology. His recent books include a trilogy on ecclesiology concluding with The Ecclesial Canopy: Faith, Hope and Charity (Ashgate, 2011). 39 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

Paul, as a Roman citizen, was able to invoke the privilege. Cities, to be well-ordered, were governed by assemblies. These were sometimes called ekklesia—an ancient commonplace secular word from which we derive the term ‘church’. And to help keep order in cities, ethnic groups who were non-citizens often lived in neighbourhoods or ghettoes. Indeed, even in modern times, we find areas of a city for the Spaniards, French, Chinese—and sometimes for groups that are marginalised. In ancient times, the areas reserved in a city for non- citizens were known as paroikia—from which we get the English word ‘parish’. This is where the resident aliens lived; those who lived in the city, contributed to its welfare, but had no voting rights. In Paul’s church, we find Jews Greeks and Romans; slave and free; male and female. All one in Christ. And in this ‘assembly’ of non- citizens, all are equal. The parish church, then, is the inside place for the outsider. Or as William Temple once put it, the only club that exists for non-members. This is what it means to be one in Christ: built together to be the dwelling place of God. Churches rarely think about their identity in self-conscious ways. They mostly go about their business assuming their values, and implicitly imbibing these from one generation to the next. In a way, this is a pity, as valuable practices are often left to chance: inchoate by nature, they simply persist implicitly. So here in this brief essay, I want to argue that one key practice of the church—rarely discussed in ecclesiology or theology—is the way in which the church acts as an adoptive agency. Welcoming the strangers and aliens in their midst, and not only giving to them, but also receiving from them. This is not merely an observation about how Christians engage with culture; it is also a remark about the oft-hidden dynamic of reception, gift and charity. Noting this ‘flow’ of influence, Thomas Tweed observes: ‘(Religions) are confluences of organic-cultural flows that intensify joy and confront suffering by drawing on human and supra-human (i.e. divine) forces to make homes and cross boundaries’.1 I am rather drawn to this definition of religion, and of churches. Churches, at their best—and one presumes a passionate real faith in a real God as a basis—know that good religion performs four important tasks. First, they intensify joy. They take the ordinary and make it extraordinary. They know how the celebrate lives, love and

1 Thomas Tweed, Crossing and Dwelling (Harvard University Press, 2006), 12. PERCY Strangers in our Midst. Adoption & Implicitness in Ecclesial Life 40 transitions. They bless what is good, and raises hope, thanks and expectation in prayer and praise. They lift an institution and individuals to a new plane of existence—one of blessing and thankfulness for what is and can be. And they not only move, but also intensify. Just as a birth becomes even more in a baptism, so in mission and ministry does a ceremony become more with prayer and celebration. Second, suffering is confronted. Working with pain, bereavement, counselling and consolation will be familiar to all ministers and churches—providing the safe space and expertise that holds and slowly resolves the suffering that individuals and institutions carry inside them. Third, the making of homes is a profoundly analogical and literal reference to the function of faith. Making safe spaces of nourishment, well-being, maturity, diversity and individuation; our ‘faith homes’ are places both of open hospitality and security. Fourth, faith helps us to cross boundaries—to move forward and over the challenges of life to new places. It can be crossing deserts to find promised lands; or passing from darkness to light. Religion never keeps us in one place; even with our homes, it moves us. This might all sound like a lot of effort for those engaged in mission and ministry. And to some extent it is. However, I also want to suggest that the spirit in which we engage with our institutions is just as important as the actual programmes and events that might be offered. Sometimes, it is the way of being and the character of individual ministry that carries more weight than and resonance than those things that seem concrete and planned. This is not surprising, since faith communities often make contributions to social capital that are not easily calculated or calibrated. Because they foster and focus distinctive values that provide leaven in complex contexts, faith communities often find themselves promoting forms of goodness that secular and utilitarian organisations might miss. Some of the best practices in church life are those that we never even consider as significant, let alone as deliberately virtuous. In this respect, Bruce Reed explains how religion partly functions by drawing on an analogy from nature: If bees could talk, and we came across them busy in a flower garden and enquired what they were doing, their reply might be: ‘Gathering nectar to make honey.’ But if we asked the gardener, he would most certainly answer: ‘They are cross-pollinating my flowers.’ In carrying 41 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

out their manifest function to make food, the bees were performing a latent function of fertilising flowers. The mutual dependence of bees and flowers is an analogue of churches and society.1 Here, Reed offers us a vivid picture of mission and ministry that we might recognise. Through simple ministry with the people we serve— often comprising little more than attentiveness, hospitality, care and celebration—ministers often do more good for the parishes, communities and institutions they serve than they can ever know. This may simply be through the offering of regular lunches, or open house for tea and coffee at any time—and these are manifest intentions, of course. But the potency of the gesture and practice lies more in their latency, and is significant. These practices say something about the possibilities for different kinds of spaces in communities— social, pastoral, intellectual, spiritual, to name but a few. And one key to understanding this, in ecclesial terms, is to see that the dynamic of adoption is one of those implicit values that lie at the heart of the church. That is to say, just as churches, congregations and individuals Christians understand or experience themselves as, in some sense, ‘adopted’ by God (as Paul suggests), so they in turn, find themselves adopting others. Not merely as a means to numerical church growth, in fact; but rather as a simple organic consequence of realising their own adoption by God. But, as I intend to show briefly in this essay, there is some deeper purpose in attending to the dynamics of adoption in ecclesial life. And the facets of adoption, though plentiful in ecclesial life, remain largely implicit in churches—embedded in everyday acts of charity and hospitality, yet rarely reflected upon. Moreover, as with so much in congregational studies, the primary way to access such dynamics is through story and narratives, rather than through the analysis of creedal formulae. Adoption as Grace and Risk Life stories are incredibly important, aren’t they? They define us, hold us and enthral us. And they are, invariably, much more important than any abstract thinking or reasoning. Theologians don’t often have the courage to start with tales. We hide behind theories and abstractions, and rarely have the courage to begin with the messy reality and contingencies of ‘story knowledge’ rather than with formal

1 Bruce Reed, The Dynamics of Religion (London: DLT, 1978), 139. PERCY Strangers in our Midst. Adoption & Implicitness in Ecclesial Life 42 theological propositions. Don Cupitt, in an influential essay (What is a Story?) has suggested theology has too often aligned itself with philosophy and the dominant power of non-narrative reasoning. In so doing, theology has concealed its origins in story and drama, and has correspondingly evolved into something like ‘Platonism with a biblical vocabulary’. In contrast, of course, Christianity begins in story and drama. As indeed do we. When we probe our own beginnings, we seldom find reasoning; we find, instead, stories. And that is where I want to begin; with a story, not about me, but about my half-sister, called Corrine. Corrine is third of four children born to my ‘birth mother’. She kept her firstborn, and her fourth, but number two (me) and three (Corinne) she gave away. Corinne’s adoptive parents have a tale to tell about adoption. Like my adoptive parents, they were rung up by Lancashire County Council Social Services, having been listed for some time, and told that (hold your breath) there was a baby to be adopted, that they had been ‘approved’, and they could go and collect on Saturday. They tell of going to an ordinary-looking bungalow in Manchester, and being shown into a large bedroom, where there were six cots, all in a row. This was the foster mother’s house, and all the children were up for adoption: it is 1965. Corrine’s parents were invited to walk along and choose a child, which they did. They returned home with their baby, overjoyed. But the story has a twist. They received a phone call a week later from Social Services. The birth mother had changed her mind. Could they bring the baby back, and choose another one? Exactly a week later, they returned their baby, and simply chose another: Corinne. Isn’t it odd how life turns like this; on the flip of a coin, as it were? A tutorial question I sometimes used to set for undergraduates was to spot the connection between Moses, the Buddha, Mohammed and Jesus. True, they are all great religious leaders. But there is also something stranger that connects them. They are all adopted. Moses was abandoned by his birth mother and left to float in a small coracle in the River Nile, and had the good fortune to be picked up by the daughter of one of the Pharaohs, and nurtured as one of her own. Mohammed was orphaned at the age of six, or perhaps earlier, and was brought up by his uncle in the ancient city of Makkah. The Buddha’s mother died when he was less than a week old, 43 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 and he was raised by her sister. Jesus, of course, according to Christian orthodoxy is not exactly the child of Joseph, since Christian tradition claims no human intervention in his genesis. Although Mary is clearly his mother, Joseph is not his biological father. When most people think about adoption, it is a habit of the heart to believe that it is the child who has somehow been rescued, and that the adopted parents are the redeemers. However, one of the extraordinary things about the world’s great religions is that this equation is turned around—as most things are in religion—so that the adopted child becomes the redeemer, or the gift. This is particularly true in Christian thinking where orthodoxy teaches a kind of double adoption: in return for God’s adoption of us by Jesus, we are ourselves adopted into the life of God. Moreover, the adoption is invariably what I would call a ‘cross-border risk’; where one party takes on something alien, and both redeems it through hospitality and love, and in so doing is redeemed. The Neighbour from Hell—An Exegesis of Luke 10: 25-37 The art of listening to parables, as opposed to the art of telling them, is the art of placing oneself in the story-world they create. It is this connection between our world and the world of the parable that makes them such a powerful means of communication. Parables invite us in, as the host invites us to the party, but when we enter we do not always find ourselves in the position we might expect. Like most parables in the New Testament, we tend to read this one through the subtitles that have been provided by translators and publishers. This is a pity, because the ‘the parable of the Good Samaritan’ is not a good subtitle for the story Jesus tells. A much better title would be ‘the Neighbour from Hell’. Why? Because Jesus steadily privileged those marginalized in society—the diseased, the infirm, women, children, tax collectors, gentiles, perhaps even Samaritans—precisely because they were regarded as the enemy; the outsider, the victim. The Samaritan as helper was an implausible role in the everyday world of Jesus; that is what makes the Samaritan plausible as a helper in a story told by Jesus. The parable, however, is not immediately about Samaritan helpers. It is about victims. No one elects to be beaten, robbed, and left for dead. Yet in this story the way to get help is to be discovered helpless. The parable, as a metaphor, is permission for the listener to PERCY Strangers in our Midst. Adoption & Implicitness in Ecclesial Life 44 understand himself or herself in just that way. There were many in Jesus’ society who could identify with that possibility without strain. Others could not imagine themselves being helped by a Samaritan. That is where the difference lies: how his listeners understand themselves. In the parable, only victims need apply for help. We can now reduce the proposition in the parable to these statements: in God’s domain, help comes only to those who have no right to expect it, and you cannot resist it when it is offered. Or, put another way, help always comes from the quarter which one does not or cannot expect. Or, we might reduce this statement more simply to this: in God’s domain, help is perpetually a surprise. The appearance of the priest and then the Levite would have caused the audience to divide over the issue of the clergy: some would have protested, others would have smiled, depending whether they were pro or anti clergy. Jesus introduced this preliminary tension within the story in order to heighten the real tension still to come. With Jesus’ audience divided on what will eventually prove to be a secondary issue, the Samaritan, an enemy of all parties, intrudes. Who in the audience wanted to let themselves be helped by a Samaritan? This is the primary challenge, because the appearance of the Samaritan makes no other sense. Had the victim in the ditch been a Samaritan and the hero an ordinary Judean, then the question would have been reversed. Who would, in the Judean audience, want to play the role of hero? Listeners would have found it more congenial to adopt the role of the helper rather than to accept the status of victim; but this is disallowed. Among Jesus’ listeners, those who would have responded positively to this story were those who had nothing to lose by doing so. Note that the victim in the ditch has nothing to do and nothing to say. The victim’s inability to resist the Samaritan’s ministrations is a weak form of consent, but it plays an essential role in the story: God’s domain is open to outcasts, to the undeserving, to those who do not merit inclusion. The despised half-breed then becomes the instrument of compassion and grace—Judeans would have choked on that irony. The Samaritan is made to behave in a way that runs counter to expectations. The parable greatly exaggerates his willingness to help. Exaggeration and atypicality add an element of fantasy to the story: listeners can no longer believe their ears—their normal sense of reality is now called into question. The expectation that the real 45 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 helper might be a Judean—third person walking along the road—is dashed. At the very mention of the Samaritan, Judean listeners would have bristled, rejected the plot and quit the story. Jesus narrates an offensive scenario. The real message of the parable of the Good Samaritan, then, is not just ‘love your enemies’. It is, rather, ‘let your enemies love you’. Let my enemies love? Let them touch me? Let them help me? Well, yes. Jesus is teasing us, his audience, as he so often does. He is inviting us to see that there can be many agents of the love of God; many conduits through which his mercy pours. And our feeble tribal boundaries, our sure sense of pure and impure, will not last. The walls we build between us on earth do not reach to heaven. So the Samaritan is a hero—but from a Judean point of view, this is highly offensive. A BBC Radio 4 Thought for the Day broadcast got to the heart of this parable in the most surprising way. Broadcast at the height of the Soweto riots, and the last days of the apartheid regime, the parable ran to form. An ordinary black man is travelling home from his church one Sunday evening—he shouldn’t be out at night, and he knows it is a dangerous journey on the way home. Sure enough, he’s set upon and mugged, beaten up very badly, and left for dead. At the first light of day, a community worker sees the body lying in the ditch—a common sight—’he’s probably drunk’, reasons the community worker. ‘Men of his kind are always in drinking dens, and they give us all a bad name.’ Next, a clergyman passes by. He too cannot help and is powerfully aware that bodies lying by the side of the roads are sometimes tricks or ambushes—he walks on briskly. Finally, two white policemen in a patrol car drive past. The driver stops, gets out of the car and sees the man is already half dead. He picks him up and puts him on the back seat, and drives him back to the police station. And no, they don’t beat him up again and finish the job—the policeman binds his wounds, calls round to the man’s family to tell his wife and children that their father and husband is badly hurt, but will make a good recovery. That is the parable of the Good Samaritan—the enemy is the redeemer. You are the victim, and God in his graciousness and mercy, surprises us by sending his love through the last person on earth that we would expect to be of help at all. We remember, finally, that the parable of the ‘good Samaritan’ arose in response to a question: what shall I do to inherit eternal life? Jesus PERCY Strangers in our Midst. Adoption & Implicitness in Ecclesial Life 46 answers: love God, and love your neighbour. But the questioner asks: who is my neighbour. And the answer is this: the person you thought was your enemy, but God has set apart to bless you, and widen your horizons. To each hypothetical, propositional question, Jesus returns a relational answer. Salvation is not thought; it is practised. It is not an abstract theory, but a habit of the heart. Conclusion—Amazing Grace What, then, has this to do with adoption? I want to suggest that the view from Samaria offers us three insights that congregations might want to reflect upon further. First, Margaret Thatcher—that noted biblical exegete—once opined that the Good Samaritan would have been no use to anyone without money to pay for the victim. It is certainly true that the story exaggerates the willingness of the Samaritan to pay—which of us would hand over our credit card to the clerk at the reception desk of a Travelodge, and let a complete stranger we found in a lay-by charge what they like to our bill? None of us. But the Samaritan does. But I would suggest to you that what is more remarkable about the tale is that the Samaritan does it for his enemy—or someone he knows will despise him. The story, in other words, is about taking an absurd risk with people we are at best unsure about. Second, the story invites us to contemplate the tribal boundaries we place around ourselves and others, and it questions them. We all live in a risk-averse society, in which responsibility and accountability are its acolytes. But this story says that some of the people we think are least likely to be helpful to us actually turn out to be angels-in-disguise. The story invites us to contemplate taking some risks in our relationships, and in learning to see the good in individuals or groups that we have hitherto regarded as unsafe, or as bad neighbours. Perhaps the people we think of as unsuitable, or even as enemies, will in actual fact make great adopters. Third, the parable deliberately suggests that our idea of who is ‘chosen’ and who is dependent can be reversed. The story of the Good Samaritan is about the neighbour from hell who turns out to be an excessively good adopter. Someone who takes more risks than the apparently conventional ‘good people’. But this story is only possible because the Samaritan does not believe in sticking to his side of the fence. This adopter ignores the boundaries that would conventionally keep Jew and Samaritan apart, and gets on with the business of being human. 47 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

I wonder what that might say to us? About apparently ‘unsuitable’ people who actually want to share their love? As one sage puts it, ‘only love is thicker than blood’. In her book Travelling Mercies (2000), Anne Lamott describes seeing a small miracle at her church, and it is one which rather surprises her. She relates how a member of the congregation, a man named Ken, was dying of AIDS—his partner having already died of the disease. It is a story of amazing grace, and where offence is melted by hospitality, only to be wholly reconfigured in the deep surprises so often contained within the wisdom of God. She writes: There’s a woman in the choir named Ranola who is large and beautiful and jovial and black and as devout as can be, who has been a little standoffish toward Ken … She was raised in the South by Baptists who taught her that his way of life—that he—was an abomination … But Kenny has come to church almost every week for the last year and won almost everyone over. He finally missed a couple of Sundays when he got too weak, and then a month ago he was back, weighing almost no pounds, his face even more lopsided, as if he’d had a stroke. Still, during the prayers of the people, he talked joyously of his life and his decline, of grace and redemption, of how safe and happy he feels these days. So on this one particular Sunday, for the first hymn, the so-called Morning Hymn, we sang ‘Jacob’s Ladder’ which goes, ‘Every rung goes higher, higher’ while ironically Ken couldn’t even stand up. But he sang away sitting down, with the hymnal in his lap. And then when it came time for the second hymn, the Fellowship Hymn, we were to sing ‘His Eye Is on the Sparrow’. The pianist was playing and the whole congregation had risen—only Ken remained seated, holding the hymnal in his lap—and we began to sing, ‘Why should I feel discouraged? Why do the shadows fall?’ And Ranola watched Ken rather sceptically for a moment, and then her face began to melt and contort like his, and she went to his side and bent down to lift him up—lifted up this white rag doll, this scarecrow. She held him next to her, draped over and against her like a child while they sang. And it pierced me …1 So, the view from Samaria goes something like this, at least at an implicit level. The aliens and the strangers in our midst often turn out to be the best neighbours. Some of the people we conventionally regard with fear, suspicion or even contempt, can turn out to be Good

1 Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith (New York: Anchor Books, 2000), 64-5. PERCY Strangers in our Midst. Adoption & Implicitness in Ecclesial Life 48

Samaritans. But to find this out, churches always have to be prepared to take profound risks in adoption. No matter what our ecclesial tradition is, or our denominational proclivity, there is something about the giving-receiving axis in major religious traditions, and their founders viewed (even just metaphorically) as adoptees—Moses, Buddha, Mohammed, and Jesus—that invites churches to reflect on the nature of their composition and hospitality. In transcending our normal boundaries and comfort zones, we can find love, and perhaps the trace of a more inclusive society. Somewhere, deep in this dynamic, the church discovers reciprocity through hospitality: it is in giving that we receive. Churches, I think, know this—at least at an implicit level. Go to almost any church or congregation on any Sunday, and you’ll find folk who bond together pretty well, often because of an explicit homogeneity—class, ethnicity or some other socio-cultural factor. Sometimes the explicitness is even a matter of credal bonding. But take a closer look. One invariably also sees strangers in the midst of such bodies. Those who know they belong, somehow, but simply don’t correspond to the homogeneity of the group, and those who simply don’t fit in. Those same people are often cherished (and at the very least tolerated) by that same congregation and church, and also bring that body gifts; and also point to a strange diversity that is beyond ordinary comprehension. Here we find the implicit spirit of adoption at work. Christians, it is often said, believe in unity, but not uniformity. It is the spirit of adoption—alive in virtually all churches and congregations—that underpins this dynamic. The eventual and explicit surfacing of diversity is caused by the implicit spirit of adoption. Christians can’t help it. Welcomed by God as strangers, and adopted as children, churches and congregations have been communities for reifying practice ever since. The adopted become adopters. It is one of those deep, inchoate value-laden dynamics that meant the church could never be a sect or a cult from the outset. It was always bound to be, deeply, a club for non-members, and an assembly for non-citizens. The inside place for the outsider. 49 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

FRANCIS, CLARE AND THE ECUMENICAL SPIRIT OF ASSISI

Gilberto Cavazos-González OFM*

In 1986 John Paul II gathered religious leaders from around the world in Assisi and introduced the notion of the Spirit of Assisi as an ecumenical and interreligious one. Is it however a spirit that Francis and Clare of Assisi would recognize? What exactly were their relationships with ecumenical and interreligious dialogue and life? This reflection explores Clare’s fear-filled encounter with the Saracens and Francis’s hopeful encounter with the Sultan. It also considers Francis’s radical desire for peace and well-being (pace e bene) in a Church filled with the culture of the crusades.

On the 17-20th of April 2012, an international and ecumenical group of scholars and pastoral ministers gathered at Santa Maria degli Angeli, just outside of Assisi, to explore the theme of interfaith dialogue. The morning of the 18th, we met in the ancient refectory of the Portiuncula friary to pray together. The Portiuncula is one of the little churches rebuilt by Francis and it is the place where Francis first received brothers and even Clare into the Gospel way of minoritas. From here he sent the brothers two by two into the whole world to preach the Gospel to all creation. The Portiuncula was very dear to Francis. It is the place where he lived and died and where friars have gathered every few years in Chapter to remember and appropriate for our day his and Clare’s spirit.

* Friar Gilberto Cavazos-González OFM is a Latino Spiritualogian with a particular concern for the relationship of Christian spirituality, pastoral ministry, Catholic social teaching and culture to the cotidianidad (everydayness) of human existence. His specific interests include medieval spirituality, Franciscanism, and both the Spanish and Mesoamerican roots of contemporary Hispanic/Latino spirituality. Gilberto is past-President of the Academy of Catholic Hispanic Theologians of the United States (2011-12), and a member of the Society for the Study of Christian Spirituality. CAVAZOS-GONZÁLEZ Francis, Clare & the Ecumenical Spirit of Assisi 50

My Reflection My reflection for morning prayer on the 18th of April is called ‘Francis, Clare and the ecumenical Spirit of Assisi,’ but to be honest the most ecumenical dialogue Francis and Clare ever had was to engage the and the . Judging by their writings, both, but especially Clare learned a great deal about the Christian Spiritual life from engaging these monastic religions.1 These Christian groups, however were not the only non-Franciscans they encountered, they also had dealings with Islam in the persons of the Saracens. And so, I would like to focus my thoughts on ecumenical dialogue to what we can learn from Francis’s inter-religious encounter with the Muslims. In preparation for this reflection I happened upon an article on the Franciscan desire for martyrdom at the hands of Muslims. As I read the article I recalled how as a doctoral student I would visit the brothers in Veneto for the holidays. I used to spend a lot of time in the friars’ choir in a Church near Verona. From my stall in the choir, I could see a mural of the Franciscan proto-martyrs in Morocco. They stood with axes, swords and clubs striking at their heads, reminiscent of the manner in which they died for the faith. Every morning and evening prayer, I was faced with this reminder of how in 1220 the first Franciscans had given their lives for Christ Jesus. This painting and many like it have traditioned2 Friars Minor for centuries. With it we have been taught that nothing is more important than our faith and like so many Christians before us, we should be willing to die for the faith. Francis and Clare both believed this and their hagiographies relate their desire for martyrdom. They however did not get the opportunity to die for Christ, rather they spent their whole lives living for him. And in so doing, they gave witness to what we now call the Spirit of Assisi.

1 I am using this ‘religion’ with a medieval understanding when religious communities were referred to as religions instead of religious orders. 2 In many cultures and religions, spiritual formation is about traditioning people into a particular way of life and set of customs based on faith and doctrines. Cf. Orlando Espín and Gary Macy, Futuring our Past: Explorations in the Theology of Tradition (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2006) and Elias Ortega-Aponte, ‘Epistemology,’ in Hispanic American Religious Cultures vol. II ed. Miguel de la Torre (Santa Barbara, CA: ABC-CLIO, 2009), 611-613. 51 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

Spirit of Assisi In October of 2011 Pope Benedict XVI met with a variety of religious leaders in Assisi where he gathered with them ‘as a pilgrim to the town of Saint Francis.’ He invited Christians of various denominations as well as representatives of various world religions and people of good will to ‘commemorate the historical action desired by [his] Predecessor and to solemnly renew the commitment of believers of every religion to live their own religious faith as a service to the cause of peace.’1 Twenty-five years earlier, John Paul II had ‘chosen this town of Assisi as the place for [a] Day of Prayer for Peace [with leaders of the world religions] because of the particular significance of the holy man venerated here—Saint Francis—known and revered by so many throughout the world as a symbol of peace, reconciliation and brotherhood [and sisterhood].’2 Today, we are gathered in the same town of Assisi seeking to think outside the box in order to identify and explore the theme of ecumenical dialogue. We gather in Assisi because of the Spirit of Assisi, a spirit that John Paul II recognized as invaluable for the work of peace and harmony. It is a spirit of prayer and contemplation as well as a spirit of action and hard work. It is an inter-religious and ecumenical spirit strengthened by the memory and heritage of Francis and Clare of Assisi who spent most of their lives here ‘in loving communion with God’3 and those whom God loves.

1 Benedict XVI, ‘Angelus: Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God. 44th World Day Of Peace’ (Vatican City, 1 January 2011): http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/benedict_xvi/angelus/2011/documents/hf_ ben-xvi_ang_20110101_world-day-peace_en.html 2 John Paul II, ‘Address to the Representatives of the Christian Churches and Ecclesial Communities gathered in Assisi for the World Day of Prayer’ (Santa Maria degli Angeli, 27 October 1986), 5: http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/john_paul_ii/speeches/1986/october/docu ments/hf_jp-ii_spe_19861027_prayer-peace-assisi_en.html 3 Six Franciscan General Ministers, ‘Letter to all the brothers and sisters of the Franciscan Family,’ (Rome, 26 June 2011): http://www.ciofs.org/doc/EN%20Spirito%20di%20Assisi.pdf CAVAZOS-GONZÁLEZ Francis, Clare & the Ecumenical Spirit of Assisi 52

I say most of their lives, because sadly like so many people around the world, Francis and Clare saw their share of armed conflict and faced the harsh and bitter realities of war. Clare spent most of her childhood in exile from Assisi because of a civil war that was waged in the streets of this now peaceful city. It was a war that the young Francis fought in; a war that landed him in prison and then into the illness that led to his conversion. Francis, Clare and the Saracens Both Francis and Clare had to deal with the dangers of war, even into their religious life. In 1119, Francis joined the Fifth Crusade in hopes of converting the Saracens and putting an end to the Crusades. Years later, Clare and her sisters prayed in fear and desperation before the Blessed Sacrament as her monastery was in danger of being attacked by the Saracens. Her prayers were heard and the Saracens never reached Assisi, leaving her and the town’s people free from harm. These two events in Francis and Clare’s lives have been immortalized by medieval artists. We are all too familiar with Giotto’s rendition of Francis challenging the Saracen leaders to an ordeal by fire and Clare brandishing the Eucharist over the backs of cowering Saracens as they flee from San Damiano. Both of these images are found in the very shrines that contain their earthly remains and both these images we now know cannot be further from the truth. Francis did go to the Saracens in the early thirteenth century,1 however while Franciscans in the fourteenth century preferred to see this as a holy war against Islam, today the Franciscan family recognizes that Francis was no soldier for Christ. Christ does not need soldiers. Thanks to the advances and new discoveries in the study of History, today we realize that what Bonaventure and the friars of his day wrote as history is really theology, albeit a polemical one. Bonaventure and later general ministers of the order were trying to keep intra-religious dialogue open among the friars themselves and with the rest of the Catholic Church. The Franciscan family has a long, convoluted history of in-fighting and near heresy that is beyond the scope of my

1 Cf. J. Hoeberichts, Francis and Islam (Quincy, IL: Franciscan Press, 1997) and Kathleen A. Warren, OSF, Daring to Cross the Threshold: Francis of Assisi Encounters Sultan Malek al-Kamil (Rochester MN: Sisters of St. Francis, 2003). 53 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 reflection; suffice it to say that if Bonaventure and others turned Francis into a soldier fighting the evil Saracens it was to paint him as a completely orthodox saint and so keep the order from being excommunicated by the very Church he loved. Contemporary historical research also shows us that Clare could not possibly have chased off the Saracens with the Eucharist. She was a cripple both times San Damiano and Assisi were assaulted by the Saracens. The witnesses for her canonization explain that while the Saracens were still miles away, she had the Blessed Sacrament brought before her and the sisters so that they could pray for safety. In her prayer she prayed not only for her and her sisters’ safety, but for everyone’s safety. I would like to think that she also prayed for the safety of the Saracens, and what better way to keep everyone safe but to avoid a confrontation altogether. The witnesses claim that God inspired the Saracens to go by another route. Francis and Clare were not soldiers. God does not need soldiers. God needs peace-makers and that is what Francis and Clare were. They were also people of faith and for them peace comes through Jesus Christ. Clare prayed for peace and well-being and security before the Eucharistic presence of Jesus. Francis went about greeting people with pax et bonum, but not only did he wish them peace and well-being, he also worked for peace. And in this spirit, Francis went to Damiata, in 1219 to preach total conversion to God in the Christian camp among the crusaders. ‘War is war and it doesn’t matter if it is for faith, politics or oil. Francis did not like what he saw among the soldiers, or better yet, he was greatly disillusioned by the Christians.’1 Taking advantage of a peace offer by the Sultan he decided to make his way to the Egyptian camp. Historians are not really sure why Francis went to see the sultan Melek-al-Kamil. Franciscan tradition however claims he went looking for martyrdom or the sultan’s conversion and found neither. Other Christian writers of the time marveled at how Francis was able to spend time in the Muslim camp and escape with his own life.

1 Gilberto Cavazos-González, ‘Francisco, Santo para Nostra Aetate’, Catolico (2 octubre, 2005): http://ctu.academia.edu/GilbertoCavazosGonz%C3%A1lezOFM/Papers/838151 /Francisco_santo_para_Nostra_aetate CAVAZOS-GONZÁLEZ Francis, Clare & the Ecumenical Spirit of Assisi 54

Putting together the pieces of the encounter, we realize that Francis found himself with a genuinely religious man. We now know that al- Kamil received spiritual advice from a Persian holy man named Fakhr al-Farisi who had been trained in Sufi mysticism. The Sufis were extremely tolerant of other faiths and al-Farisi encouraged al-Kamil to engage in religious conversation with representatives of other religions. It is no wonder he was gracious to Francis and his companion Br Illuminato. Influenced by Sufism, al-Kamil must have believed he was acting within Islamic law in listening to Francis and Illuminato—so long as they refrained from criticizing God or the Prophet Muhammad. … In their rough, patched tunics, Francis and Illuminato would even have looked like Sufis: the very name of the Muslim holy men came from the Arab word for wool, the scratchy material used to make their robes. Like Francis, they also wore a cord rather than a belt.1 Francis and Illuminato were truly blessed with these happy coincidences and it would seem even more blessed in their encounter with al-Kamil and al-Farisi. Tradition has it that when Francis and Clare met to discuss the Gospel a holy fire could be seen burning for miles around. I would like to think that a similar fire burned when Francis, Illuminato, al-Kamil and al-Farisi spoke about God with each other. It would seem that they learned much from each other about how to praise and glorify God. During his time in the Sultan’s camp, ‘a great change occurred in [Francis’s] thinking about Islam, and in his notions about prayer and devotion. Though he had not achieved his goal of converting the Sultan, he did bring back from the House of Islam ideas which were to deepen and enrich his Christian faith’2 both in devotion and mission. Devotionally, he tried to instill in Christians the daily Islamic call to prayer, asking in his Letter to the Rulers of the Peoples ‘that every evening a call be made by a herald or some other signal that praise and thanks may be given to the all-powerful Lord God by all people.’

1 Paul Moses, ‘Mission Improbable: St. Francis and the Sultan, Commonweal, (21 September 2009): 15. 2 Cott Robinson, ‘To go among the Saracens: A Franciscan Composer’s Journey into the House of Islam’, Crosscurrents (Fall 2006), 413. 55 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

Inspired by the Muslim devotion to the holy names of God, Francis invites all clerics to show great respect and love for the names and the words of the Lord. He reminds them that they administer the visible presence of Christ, a presence that is manifest in his body, blood, names and words. These words, Francis claims, are found not only in Sacred Scripture but even in the writings of the pagans1 and so all words need to be held in high esteem because they can be used to write the name and words of the Lord. This practice of Francis would later develop into the Christian devotion to the Holy Name of Jesus. Francis’s encounter with Islam also made its way into the Regula non Bullata or the Non-Approved Rule of 1221. Since 1209 Francis and the brothers had slowly been knitting together a Rule of Life for themselves. Franciscan historians generally believe that as the friars encountered different situations, the Rule was updated to fit new circumstances and to encourage the friars to persevere in minoritas or the kenotic way of Jesus who became a servant for our sakes. After Francis’s return from the Middle East, he and his secretary wrote chapter 16 of the Regula non Bullata in which he explains the two-fold spiritual presence of the friars among ‘Muslims and other infidels.’ In the first place the friars are to simply and quietly live as minores among the Saracens admitting to being Christians but without argument or debate. In the second place if and only if the Lord inspires them they may proclaim the Word of the Lord. The final form of the Regula non Bullata was written in 1222. By then not only had Francis spent time with the Saracens in Eygpt, the Franciscan proto-martyrs had been killed in Morocco. Their death however was a testimony to how much they had not learned from Francis’s example. Instead of living quietly among the Muslims they argued and debated with them, insulting both Islam and the Prophet Mohammed. Their actions stood in sharp contrast with those of their founder but very much in line with those of the medieval Church. The Popes of the day called for Crusades against Islamic invasion. While medieval Popes and even Saints preached the Crusades and invited Christians to be soldiers for Christ, Francis knew that Christ has no need of soldiers. Instead he looked for ways to incite people to peace. Already from before his conversion he went around wishing

1 See Thomas of Celano’s First and Second Lives of St Francis. CAVAZOS-GONZÁLEZ Francis, Clare & the Ecumenical Spirit of Assisi 56 everyone pax et bonum1, ‘peace and well-being’, the Christian equivalent of salaam and shalom. In 1221 he valiantly tried to get the Regula with his peaceful understanding of mission ratified by Rome; unfortunately it wasn’t. That same year however, Francis received a vision where his efforts for peace could think outside the box. According to Legend, Jesus and his mother appear to Francis and commend him for the Franciscan zeal to bring souls to salvation. They then offer him anything he desires. He asks for the an Indulgence so that anyone who enters the Portiuncola, the little Chapel that is now inside the Basilica to Santa Maria degli Angeli, confesses their sins and prays for pardon will receive full and eternal remission of their sins and the temporal punishment attached to those sins. He then manages to get the Pope to ratify this request, which Jesus has granted.2 To understand the importance of Francis’s request, we need to remember that full or plenary indulgences were granted only to those who fought in the Crusades. What Francis did was to remove the need to go to war. Why risk harm or death on the battlefield when you can get the same eternal reward by confessing your sins and praying in a tiny chapel? Conclusion As I draw to the end of this reflection, I confess that I find it interesting that the story of the Portiuncola Indulgence, although known among the friars did not make it into Francis’s official hagiography. Bonaventure and other third generation Franciscans seem to have seen it as potentially dangerous to the Order’s good standing with the Church. And so Francis’s amicable visit with the Sultan is turned into an argument and a debate over which religion is the true religion, while the Portiuncola Indulgence, the prayerful way to avoid going to the Crusades is completely ignored. Historians in the recent past have recovered the earlier hagiographies of St Francis and with them the ecumenical and inter- religious spirit of Francis and Clare. Thomas of Celano, the three companions and the witnesses for Clare’s canonization show us a

1 The Legend of the Three Companions, 26. 2 Capuchins (Wales, North), ‘The Indulgence of Portiuncola, called also the Pardon of Assisi: its origin, its special benefits, the best means of gaining it,’ (Rockliff Bros., 19??). 57 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

Francis and a Clare that were not soldiers for Christ but rather peace- makers. While this may have been problematic and potentially heretical in the times of the Crusades, the Church today finds Francis and Clare inspiring. We realize that Christ has no need of soldiers but of peace-makers. As John Paul II reminds us in his 1986 exhortation at Assisi: ‘Peace is a universal responsibility: it comes about through a thousand little acts in daily life. By their daily way of living with others, people choose for or against peace.’1 So as people of faith, as people of religion let us choose peace, for God does not need soldiers but peace-makers. I close with an exhortation of Saint Francis in the Legend of the Three Companions: ‘May the peace you proclaim in word be found in even greater measure in your hearts. May no one be provoked to anger or scandal because of you, rather may your kindness incite everyone to peace, goodness and friendship.’2

1 John Paul II, Address to the Representatives ..., (Basilica of St Francis, 27 October 1986), 7: http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/john_paul_ii/speeches/1986/october/docu ments/hf_jp-ii_spe_19861027_prayer-peace-assisi-final_en.html 2 The Legend of the Three Companions, 58. 58

MANO A MANO: BAROQUE JESUITS AND CALVINISTS (1635-1700)1

Paul Shore*

During the baroque era, both Jesuit priest and Calvinist divine created historical narratives in which continuity with the past bolstered their current positions and aided in the retelling of their respective institutional histories. They also put forward constructions of masculinity that directed their own self-perceptions while defining the Other against these self-perceptions. At the time, these men could not see the similarities between each of their institutional and masculine ideals. Today the parallels and intersections are striking. These constructions of identity continue to have meaning today, and provide tools to advance our own understanding of spirituality, whatever forms it takes.

Introduction The terms ‘Jesuit’ and ‘Calvinist’ are potentially connotative words that conjure up stereotypical images saturated with the passions of the time in which they were coined. Originally an insult, ‘Jesuit,’ like ‘Quaker’, was eventually accepted as a name by the individuals it was meant to disparage. John Calvin would not have approved of the religious movement he had founded being named after him, and even less, I suppose, of its adherents being called Calvinists. But both

1 A shorter version of this paper was given at as the Trust Council Lecture at the Irish School of Ecumenics, Belfast on 2 May 2012. Thanks to Brandon University, the Long Room Hub, Trinity College Dublin and to Lynn Whidden. * Paul Shore has held teaching and research posts at Saint Louis University, Harvard Divinity School, the University of Wrocław, the University of Edinburgh, Trinity College Dublin, and Charles University Prague, and recently was Stanley Knowles Distinguished Visiting Professor at Brandon University in Brandon, Manitoba. His publications include The Eagle and the Cross: Jesuits in Late Baroque Prague and Narratives of Adversity: Jesuits on the Eastern Peripheries of the Habsburg Realms (1640-1773). 59 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 names have stuck, serving as shorthand for clusters of beliefs and behaviors, and for locations within the political and social landscape of early modern Europe. Today I would like to explore how the men who bore these labels understood their own identity, and particular how this understanding was shaped by their perceptions of one another. This a story that includes the disagreements over religious belief and practice with which we are already familiar, but which also extends to a proud refusal to understand each other’s construction of manhood, and even of each other’s construction of humanity itself. And as such it is a story with significance for our own day. Both Jesuit priest and Calvinist divine sought to construct historical narratives in which continuity with the past would both bolster their current position as well as aid in the retelling of their own institutional histories. But each sought continuity with a different point in time and with different points of view. The Reformed Church identified with the Primitive Church of the first through the third centuries: the trials faced by early Christians, the absence of a conspicuous ecclesiastical hierarchy in early martyrdom narratives, and the vision of God’s providence conveyed in the annals of the Church in its formative years were all points of reference for Calvinists envisioning the past of their own Church. The visionary medieval monk, the cultured humanist prelate and the princely cardinal, needless to say, were not. Jesuits likewise were acutely aware of the history of the Primitive Church, but viewed this history through the prism of medieval hagiography (as understood by the ) and especially through the triumphalist vision of the Tridentine Church. The ‘rediscovery’ of countless shrines and relics across Europe was one way by which this continuity was built up; another was the assembling of lists of bishops and other members of the Church’s hierarchy, as when the Hungarian Jesuit Samuel Timon produced Purpura Pannonica, a list of Hungarian cardinals whose presentation minimizes the long hiatus in succession caused by the Ottoman occupation.1

1 Samuel Timon, Purpura Pannonica, Sive Vitæ Et Res Gestæ S. R. E. Cardinalium, Qui Aut In Ditionibus... (Cassoviae: Typis Academicis Societatis Jesu, 1745). SHORE Mano a Mano: Baroque Jesuits & Calvinists (1635-1700) 60

Persecution as well as prosperity could provide proof to both Calvinist and Jesuit of the rightness of their own paths; each side proudly recorded accounts of the suffering its members had undergone at the hands of the other. In these accounts and in their pictorial representations are clues to how masculinity (for this struggle was seldom articulated in terms of male versus female or female versus female) was defined and expressed on each side. Imagining the Other Reformed writers of the baroque era frequently turned to the trope of the ‘wily Jesuit,’ an enthusiastically embraced stereotype of the day.1 The ‘wily Jesuit’ possessed the ability to manipulate the behavior of others, using the senses and crowd psychology rather than the more ‘manly’ qualities of personal courage and the capacity to appeal to the higher emotions. Here is an account by the Hungarian Calvinist historian Debreceni Emberi Pál of the expulsion of a Reformed pastor from his community: 1643. In the month of December in the town of Šal’a in the Seniorate of Komjathy and the county of Nitra the place dedicated to divine worship was destroyed by a certain crowd that the Jesuit Fathers had suborned for their purpose. Forty-five musketeers from the Nové Zamky garrison were sent, in the company of the Archiepiscopal chaplain, who put the preacher and his family on a wagon, as if they were evil, and expelled them from the town with the beating of drums, great clamor and laughter, with the Catholics shouting ‘Out, out Calvin, from the town!’2 Note that the Jesuits accomplish this act through bribery (i.e. the same tool with which Judas Iscariot was rewarded for betraying Christ), through the unmanly employment of outside armed force, and by inciting the (presumably gullible) Catholic populace through chanted phrases. As reported here, this incident is not about theological disagreements, but about the various means by which men accomplish their goals, and about the power relations that make the

1 Sabina Pavone, The Wily Jesuits and the Monita Secreta (St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 2005). 2 Friedrich Adolf Lampe [Debreceni Ember Pál], Historia Ecclesiae Reformatae, in Hungaria et Transylvania (Trajecti ad Rhenum: Apud Jacobum van Poolsum, 1728), 425. Author’s translation. 61 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 use of these means possible. The Jesuits had already acquired a reputation for being particular sorts of men as they had posed challenges to accepted notions of masculinity. Jesuits had accomplished this through their rejection of accepted notions of marriage and kin ties, and through their creation of communities tied neither to the land nor to trade, and lastly though their radical mobility. Reformed clergy were of course supposed to live lives of spotless morality, surpassing the level expected from the common SHORE Mano a Mano: Baroque Jesuits & Calvinists (1635-1700) 62 man, and might be highly mobile in their pursuit of education and in their pastoral work, but their lives remained within the context of traditional relationships that preserved gender roles and patriarchal family structure, even when this family structure was transplanted to distant climes.1 Now let us turn to the Jesuit imagining of the Calvinist male. Like the last example, this snapshot comes from Upper or Royal , some twenty-four years before the incident in Šal’a. In Košice, a stronghold of both Calvinism and opposition to the Catholic Habsburg dynasty, three Jesuit priests were seized by agents of a local Reformed magnate, tortured and killed. The ‘martyrs of Košice,’ canonized much later by John Paul II, became the focus of devotion, with their relics displayed and their story incorporated into Jesuit history.2 In an engraving from Matthias Tanner’s Jesuit martyrology of 1675,3 reproduced opposite, the contrast between Jesuit and Calvinist is starkly rendered in physical terms. The Jesuit is almost naked, his outstretched form calling to mind Christ on the Cross. The Calvinist tormentor on the other hand is simultaneously sinister and foppish, almost effeminate. Despite his lack of masculine attributes, this Calvinist is capable not only of inflicting harm, but also of bringing about martyrdom. And so, like the scimitar-wielding Muslim or the ‘pagan savage’ of the New World, the Calvinist become one of the most indispensible elements of baroque Jesuit narratives: the cruel adversary. A Century of Crisis The early modern era had more than its share of cruelty. Few confessions (the Quakers being a distinguished exception) could claim to have completely avoided acts of cruelty against other groups. Jesuit

1 Debra Meyers, Common Whores, Virtuous Women and Loving Wives: Free Will and Christian Women in Colonial Maryland (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 2003), 47. 2 Gabriel Hevenesi, Ungariæ Sanctitatis Indicia, sive Brevis QuinqugintaQuinque Sanctorum… (Tyrnaviæ: Typis Academicis per Leopoldum Berger, 1737), 109-110. 3 Mathias Tanner, Societas Jesu usque ad sanguinis et vitae profusionem Militans... (Pragae: Typis Universitatis Carolo-Ferdinandeae, 1675), 88. Courtesy of Saint Louis University Libraries Special Collections. Thanks also to Jennifer Lowe. 63 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 imagining of Calvinists involved a heavy and vivid dose of cruelty. The ‘cruel Calvinist’ shared many characteristics with other enemies of the Society’s enterprises; yet several distinctive features of the adherents of the Reformed Church can be discerned in visual representations of Jesuit martyrdoms and in internal Jesuit documents of the late seventeenth century. To ‘read’ these clues to the Jesuit perception of the Calvinist and vice versa we must understand something of the world in which these images were created. The seventeenth century has often been described as a time of crisis for Europe. Forming a backdrop and doubtless also contributing to political and military upheaval were climatic changes, bringing uncertainty, hunger and disease to millions.1 Scarcity of resources created anxieties both for Calvinists, who believed that prosperity was a sign of God’s favor, and for Catholic orders such as the Society of Jesus, which strove to establish schools and communities across Europe.2 Believers of all stripes saw enemies among their neighbors, humorous caricatures of whom might appear on the stage of the local, confessionally defined collegium.3 Even within the boundaries of confessional discipline, ‘renegades,’ apostates, and persons ‘of no faith’ were easy to find; each posed a potential threat to the safety and stability of the community. Overlapping with these categories of dangerous outsider were swarms of vagabonds, ex-soldiers, dispossessed peasants, and in the lands of the Crown of St Stephen, landless, wondering Roma.4

1 John A. Eddy, ‘"The Maunder Minimum": Sunspots and Climate in the Reign of Louis XIV,’ in Geoffrey Parker and Lesley M. Smith (eds.), The General Crisis of the Seventeenth Century (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1978), 226-268. 2 For instance, the Jesuit university in Trnava, planned as the focal point of the Society’s educational and missionary programs in Hungary, was closed in 1645 because of the plague and menacing anti-Catholic armies. Emericus Tolvay, Ortus et Progressus almae, archi-episcopalis Societatis Jesu universitatis Tyrnaviensis…. (Tyrnaviae: Typis Academicis per Fridericum Gall, 1725), 152. 3 Comoedia Arianorum et Calvinistorum was produced by the Jesuit school in Cluj, Transylvania, in 1701. Staud Géza, A magyarországi jezsuita iskolai színjátékok forrásai, 3 vols. (Budapest: Magyar Tudományos Akadémia Könyvtárának Kiadása, 1984-1988), I, 247. 4 Viorel Achim, The Roma in Romanian History (Budapest: Central European Press, 2004), 33. SHORE Mano a Mano: Baroque Jesuits & Calvinists (1635-1700) 64

Uncertainty and ‘periculum’ (a word meaning danger that appears constantly in Jesuit documents) fed the already strong tendency of preachers and polemicists to describe the world in chiaroscuro terms and since both Calvinist and Jesuit agreed about man’s fallen nature, finding sin and error in their opposite number was easy. Among the characteristics that Calvinists criticized in Jesuits were the perceived sources of Jesuit power, i.e. the papacy, and, in many parts of the world, the colonial powers with which Jesuits collaborated. The familiar charges of idolatry seemed all the more justified when the Society employed ‘in your face’ tactics such as parading holy images through predominantly Calvinist communities. Center and Periphery From the Jesuit perspective Europe was divided, not as we generally think of it today, into east versus west, but into north versus south.1 The south was associated with Rome, both ancient and papal, and with the triumph of the Church, while parts of the north could be stereotyped as peripheral, barbarous, inhospitable and unfaithful. Calvinism was of course of this northern world, and viewed Rome as the Whore of Babylon.2 So the contest between Jesuit and Calvinist was also, among other things, a debate over cultural expression, and over the appropriation of the legacy of the past. Only in the ‘battle of the books’ did the two sides use a medium whose form and characteristics they generally agreed upon. In recent years historians have made much of the dynamic between center and periphery. Like a rubber band, these terms can become overstretched and useless if we try to make then fit over anything and everything. But these terms are of value here when looking at this particular conflict. Roman Catholic identity (with Jesuit support) was as we know an indispensible element of resistance to the Protestant ascendancy in Ireland, while Calvinist townsfolk and gentry clung to the faith of their fathers in far off Transylvania. The Society of Jesus

1 Robert Evans, ‘The Baroque in Hapsburg Central Europe,’ in Géza Galavics (ed.), Baroque Art in Central Europe (Budapest: Budapesti Történeti Múzeum 1993), 78-82; at 79. 2 Emma Bergin, ‘Defending the True Faith: Religious Themes in Dutch Pamphlets on England, 1688-1689,’ in David Onneklink (ed.), War and Religion after Westphalia, 1648-1713 (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2009), 217-246; at 242. 65 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 self-consciously sought out the distant, which quickly carried its members to the peripheries. Reformed theology possesses no such imperative, other than perhaps the Gospel command to ‘Go and preach to all the nations’ (Mark 15:16), but political realities and economic opportunities created strongholds of Calvinism in the very peripheries where Jesuits were laboring to re-establish Catholicism. The subsequent contest—which could include competing efforts at exorcism—remained personal, and in key aspects, masculine. These competitions were understood by the participants to be a zero-sum game, and in the baroque era accommodation of the ‘loser’ was neither offered nor sought. The Turning of the Tide Instead, in the late seventeenth century, the expansive drive of Catholicism slowed and the high tide of the Counter-Reformation was reached, with neither side able to achieve the desired triumph over the other. Far more than a static stalemate, the struggle between Calvinist and Jesuit continued with intensity, but each was now guided as much as by bureaucratic and formalized behavior as by the charismatic vision of the founder. Paralleling this development was the gradual but ultimately very significant disengagement of the Jesuits from the natural sciences. The Reformed Church never was institutionally committed to this field, but continued to produce historians of merit, something the Jesuits did as well, far into the eighteenth century. But in this century the Reformed Church and the Society of Jesus, both of which had reached maturity as religious and social movements very quickly, began to show signs of premature age. This trend is connected by some historians with the spread of Enlightenment ideas of scientific inquiry; I am not convinced of this, since the peripheries where Calvinists and Jesuit had much of their greatest impact were often regions to which these Enlightenment notions arrived very later, and with weakened force. (New England may be an exception to this, but the long-term presence of non- Calvinists in many of its communities must also be taken into account). Instead I would like to suggest a different factor contributing this dilution of youthful puissance: The conceptions of human life and specifically of maleness implicit in the founding documents of the SHORE Mano a Mano: Baroque Jesuits & Calvinists (1635-1700) 66

Reformed Church and of the Society proved in large part unsustainable. The shift in the apparent motivations of young men seeking to join the Jesuits is, I think, evidence of this. In the regions of Europe that I have studied, the number of vocations remained high right up until the suppression of the Society in 1773, but the careers and contributions of these later Jesuits suggest membership in a well- established organization providing security and a well-defined role in society. Comparable shifts within the world of the Reformed Church cannot be summarized as neatly, since that world was far from being the centralized project that the Society strove to be. But among the scattered pieces of evidence pointing to the dissipation of the intensity of the previous century, we note the marginalization of Presbyterian voices in the political debates of eighteenth century England, the distance between theology and everyday life revealed by the critiques of society expressed in the Great Awakening of the American Colonies, the decline in creative vitality of the Dutch Republic, and the stagnation of Calvinist universities across Europe. In each of these examples, other forces were admittedly at work as well: the staleness of some Calvinist schools for instance was found in many other universities. And the Dutch Republic’s difficulties were related to the loss of economic leadership to England. But joining these threads were both an absence of energetic pastoral response to changing circumstances and a weakening enthusiasm among the for the more rigorous demands of Calvinist theology. Jesuits and Calvinists might still interact in other, improbable ways. The story persisted of an unnamed, unhappy ‘deserter’ from the Society who while penning a letter to a Calvinist judge in Košice filled with calumniae against the Society suddenly dropped dead.1 The object lesson offered by the Jesuit recording this tale does not disguise the fact that loyalties sometimes changed and communication between rivals or former rivals did take place. Yet as time went on relations between the two came to resemble a ritualistic dance in which no victory was anticipated. The struggle between Reformed clergy (and sometimes laypersons) and Jesuits compels us to reflect on enduring Manichean currents in

1 Ioannes Nadasi, Tristes annuae desertorum 266, 118. F.2, Pannonhalmi Főapátsági Könyvtár. 67 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

Christianity, on the desire to have a demonized Other in our personal and institutional histories, and on the role of martyrdom in Christian—and in tribal—identity. For aspiration after martyrdom can go beyond the combative imagery of the Reformation or Counter- Reformation by visualizing an opponent (so often a powerful man) whose destructive acts complete God’s will and work. Without such adversaries as the Jesuits how focused and clarified would the moral vision of the baroque Reformed Church have been? Or vice versa? But unlike the real or imagined combat between Christian and Muslim, or the struggles between pagan darkness and the light of the Gospel, the context between Jesuit and Calvinist took place within a European ‘Republic of Letters’ that held many cultural values in common. Battling over the meaning of same sacred texts, parsing the world according to the same categories of Latin grammar, and sometimes even employing identical symbolic transactions in their emblematic creations, Jesuits and Calvinists engaged in something closer to an intellectual civil war than what has been called in our own time a ‘culture war.’ From our own perspective a striking feature of this war was the inability of the participants to recognize the similarities of the tools each used. Nor could each group grasp how their competing visions expressed the same desires. The imagined figure of the lone individual—the athleta christianus—battling the forces of darkness,1 can be a very attractive one, drawing young men who ironically, may be seeking escape from the very same social control that their own religious tradition sought to impose.2 And beyond this world there lay the promise and the threat of the next. Although the theological apparatus that explained these dangers and possibilities to a Reformed clergyman differed greatly from the equivalent rationale confronting a Jesuit, the intense anxiety that each

1 This phrase is the title of a book produced by Jean D’Artis in 1615, which works out the parallels between the training of a gladiator and the exertions of a Christian making war on the forces of evil. The term was also used by Protestant theologians such as Johann Franz Buddeus (1667-1729). 2 A number of baroque Jesuits had been born Calvinists. One of the most distinguished was Peter Pázmány (1573-1635), a key figure in the Counter- Reformation in the Habsburg lands. Fraknói Vilmos, Pázmány Péter és kora (Pest: Ráth Mór, 1868). Sometimes Jesuits became Calvinists, too. Mordechai Feingold, ‘Jesuits: Savants,’ in Mordechai Feingold (ed.), Jesuit Science and the Republic of Letters (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2003), 1-45; at 32. SHORE Mano a Mano: Baroque Jesuits & Calvinists (1635-1700) 68 might feel for the state of his soul was much the same. For even allowing for the political realities of the day, we should never lose sight of the focused, even obsessive emphasis on personal salvation that dominated the minds of almost everyone in this era. Fashioning Masculinity Escape, display, and redemption are themes that enable us to understand this dance, although there remain details of the way that Jesuits and Calvinists fashioned their respective visions of manhood that have yet to be adequately explored. The most important of these is rhetoric. A key component of the education of both Reformed clergy and Jesuits, rhetoric played a key role in the ritualized combats in which the groups engaged. It is not always easy today to imagine the steps by which young boys learned to wield a language that neither they nor any of their contemporaries spoke as a native tongue, or to grasp how the audiences of Latin debates appreciated the virtuosity of the performers. A clue to the latter puzzle lies in the word ‘virtuosity’ whose root is the Latin vir (giving us the English virile and cognate with the ‘were’ in werewolf). As aspiring virtuosos, boys training to use Latin rhetoric had to master grammar and syntax, while acquiring the requisite knowledge of pagan literature and Scripture that would enable them to assemble arguments and parry the verbal thrusts of their opponents. Along the way they also learned to use memory aids and tricks to win over audiences. Such ritual combats that were expressions of masculinity as well as articulations of theological positions.1 Walter Ong, himself a Jesuit, has explored the need for these ritual combats, citing the need for self-display, insecurity and desire for status.2 In the unstable environment of early modern Europe these needs were more keenly felt than ever and parallels with the ostentatious self-display of the baroque prince or prelate, are clear.

1 In a variation on this format, Jesuits sometimes debated with former Calvinists who had become Jesuits. E.g. Historica Relatio colloquii Cassoviensis de Judice controversiarum fidei praeside R. P. Soc. Jesus SS. Theo. ac Phil. Doctore... respondente Nobile Stephano Renyes Varadiensi ...ex Convictu Nobilium… anon MDCLXVI. No place of publication (‘Christianopolis’) but possibly Cluj, 1679. 2 Walter J. Ong, Fighting for Life (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1981), 129-31. 69 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

These performances earned admiration which not coincidentally reaffirmed the centrality of the Word to the cultures and belief systems of Jesuits and Calvinists. Since women were excluded from all but the most rudimentary levels of the schooling that culminated in these rituals, and because both Calvinist and Jesuit schooling stressed self-confidence and forbade the adolescent brawling that took place elsewhere in early modern society, the public exercises of rhetoric took on a specifically self-regulated, masculine character whereby older males initiated younger ones into the rules of the game. This initiation embraced large numbers of boys not destined for lives as clergy, and thereby spread these models of self-regulated, if showy masculinity throughout secular society. Finally, let me touch on another element in the fashioning of masculinity that complements both the academic training and the pursuit of personal ambitions and desires that we have just been considering. This is the ideal of ‘one who is under authority,’1 an idea related to the curricular model known as the modus parisiensis, to which both Calvin and Ignatius were exposed as students.2 In an environment where a Latin-educated man was often a rarity, and where rigid social hierarchies were almost a given, the male authority figure was an element, present or implied, of most social transactions. The Geneva model, echoed in New England and elsewhere, centralized civil authority and monopolized state-sanctioned violence

1 ‘For I am a man under authority, having soldiers under me: and I say to this man, Go, and he goeth; and to another, Come, and he cometh; and to my servant, Do this, and he doeth it.’ Matthew 8:9 (KJV). 2 The collision between Jesuit and Reformed clergyman thus can be framed, inter alia, in terms of how authority and autonomy were understood, how relation was identified and expressed, and how each of these interacted with ideals of masculinity articulated by each. To a degree the differences Jesuits and Calvinists held on these points can be traced to the visions of their founders, but in the long run the educational systems of the Reformed Church and of the Society probably played a greater role. The position of Reformed clergyman was achieved through an educational path that was both rigorous and generally regarded with great esteem by the communities that supported the schools that provided it. Harvard College, founded in 1636, had the express task of training clergy for the tiny settlements of Calvinist New England at a time when resources were scarce but commitment to producing a natively educated clergy was great. Samuel Eliot Morison, The Founding of Harvard College (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1935), 247. SHORE Mano a Mano: Baroque Jesuits & Calvinists (1635-1700) 70 in the hands of the highest ranking clergy. On the Jesuit side, the ‘Republic of Paraguay’ was a network of paternalistically managed communities with all formal power residing with a handful of educated priests.1 In Upper Hungary, where a large portion of the population remained Protestant, Jesuits regulated where and how (for instance, without a bell)2 Protestants might be buried, and the Society’s academies dominated the schooling of even Protestant elites. Maleness, in these settings, meant potential dominance. But there were differences between the two models. Acknowledgement of the authority of other Jesuits within the Society’s chain of command was stressed in Jesuit formation whereas in a Calvinist community men obeyed other men in secular settings, even (or perhaps especially) if these men were clergy.3 Doctrinal conformity, mastery of universally valued skill sets, and a willingness to engage both in public performance and in interventions in the lives of others were masculine characteristics shared by the spiritual heirs of Jean Calvin and . And while these heirs frequently battled against one another, they were also continually at war with common foes: uncertainty, disorder, untrammeled desire (including female desire), and a range of traditional practices and beliefs that seemed to threaten true faith, ordered communities, and orthopraxy. This continual crusade both preoccupied and inspired generations of Jesuit priest and brothers and Calvinist clergy. The conduct of these clergy likewise served as a role model for entire societies. Calvinists and Jesuits of course did not originate this model of resistance to human weakness, but by imbuing it with deep and socially useful learning and by performing acts of personal courage that sometimes contained elements of brutality, they

1 Jean Lacouture, Jesuits: A Multibiography, Jeremy Leggatt trans. (Washington, DC: Counterpoint, 1995), 244-245. 2 See the writer’s Narratives of Adversity: Jesuits on the Eastern Peripheries of the Habsburg Realms, (1640-1773), (Budapest: Central European University Press, 2012), 176. 3 Constitutiones Societatis Iesv (Romae: In Ædibvs Societatis Iesu, 1558), Sexta Pars, cap. I; Karen E Spierling, ‘Father, Son, and Pious Christian: Concepts of Masculinity in Reformation Geneva,’ in Scott H. Hendrix and Susan C. Karant-Nunn (eds.), Masculinity in the Reformation Era (Kirksville, MO: Truman State University Press, 2008) 95-119; at 111.

71 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 breathed new life into the patriarchal conception of masculinity at a time when other traditional ways of understanding the universe were being challenged. Conclusion Today both the Reformed Church and the Society of Jesus continue as organizations with spiritual and educational missions in a world where many of the basic assumptions held by Calvin and Ignatius are no longer generally accepted, and where debates concerning the roles of male and female are still very far from clarity about how masculinity will be understood in the Christian Church of the future. There may be much in the way these baroque men visualized themselves that seems strange and off-putting to us, but we should not assume an attitude of superiority towards them. Many Christian movements today perpetuate and reinforce the ideas of patriarchal dominance, public performance, social control, and even the notion of the Other to be opposed and defeated, without retaining the intellectual discipline and commitment to scholarship possessed by so many Reformed clergy and Jesuits. The field of polemical combat has shifted even as many of the spiritual descendents of Calvinist and Jesuit ‘warriors for the faith’ have embraced ecumenism. No doubt I am preaching to the choir when I say that a lesson drawn from the first two centuries of competition between Jesuit and Calvinist is that this competition caused much suffering and did not result in a ‘victory’ for either side. In any case few of those still fighting would be impressed by such a history lesson! Instead we might do better, armed with some knowledge of how schooling, religious formation, ambition, fear, and societal expectations all shaped the visualized masculinity of both Reformed clergy and Jesuits, to consider more deeply what it means to be male and Christian. In these two categories are themes of experience and identity with meaning to many today, and which can provide some of the tools to advance our understanding of spirituality, whatever outward forms it takes. 72

1 A CATHOLIC PERSPECTIVE ON SALVATION

Brett Salkeld*

This paper discusses the Catholic view of salvation through the lens of the final four articles of the Creed: the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. It was written as a discussion paper for the Canadian Roman Catholic- Evangelical Dialogue.

I want to begin by emphasizing how well-founded an idea I believe it is for an ecumenical group to consider what salvation means to Evangelicals and Catholics. In my mind, the great merit of the idea is that while salvation has not been something over which Catholics and Evangelicals have actively disagreed—in fact, I suspect that for many people in the pews in both our communities, salvation as something like, ‘Going to heaven and being with God for eternity’ would be one of the easiest things to agree about—a deeper investigation of its meaning will be highly revealing in terms of our basic agreements and differences. While I suspect that we share basically the same faith about salvation, the ways in which we articulate that faith will probably give us a very good sense of each other’s basic Christian worldview. As the final goal of the Christian life, salvation will be intimately linked with almost every other aspect of our theology and Christian life.

1 This paper was given at the March 22-23 meeting of the Canadian Roman Catholic–Evangelical Dialogue. The dialogue was considering what each tradition means by the term ‘salvation,’ especially in light of Catholic confusion over how to answer Evangelical Christians who ask ‘Have you been saved?’ [See below, 79-88 for David Guretzki's dialogue paper, 'What does it mean for Evangelicals to say they are "saved"?' Ed.] * Brett Salkeld is a member of the Canadian Roman Catholic-Evangelical Dialogue, a doctoral candidate in systematic theology at Regis College in Toronto, and the author of Can Catholics and Evangelicals Agree about Purgatory and the Last Judgment? (Paulist Press, 2011).

73 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

If I’m correct about this, then this will be a very difficult paper to write! Indeed, it seems to me that one could fruitfully approach the question of salvation from many possible angles. For this paper, then, I have to choose carefully. So, while I readily admit that other Catholics would choose other ways of presenting a Catholic understanding of salvation, I have chosen one that I hope will be fruitful for ecumenical purposes by helping Christians of different traditions to see more clearly where we agree and where we differ. As we are all Nicene Christians (by which I mean Christians who subscribe to the Creed), I felt it would be helpful to look at how a Catholic would understand salvation in light of the final four clauses of that Creed. It seems to me that each of a) the communion of saints, b) the forgiveness of sins, c) the resurrection of the body and d) the life everlasting, would be useful lenses through which to look at the question of salvation. a) The Communion of Saints Most Catholics with a basic theological understanding would probably suggest that a key difference between Catholic and Evangelical understandings of salvation is that Catholics are more communally focused while Evangelicals are more individualistic. Whether or not this is a fair characterization in every case can be left an open question for now, but I think it is fair to suggest that this is a difference that many Catholics would highlight. Pope Benedict has captured the basic Catholic intuition here in a pithy paraphrase of Sartre. While the French philosopher famously claimed that ‘Hell is other people,’ Joseph Ratzinger, in his book Behold the Pierced One, claims just the opposite: ‘Heaven is other people.’1 The fundamental human problem, from this point of view, is that we do not live in communion with one another. In fact, we murder one another with astonishing regularity, to say nothing of our lesser faults. This problem is not to be seen as an alternative to our separation from God as the basic human problem, but as the radical manifestation of that separation in history. Separation from God and the disintegration of human community are two sides of the same coin. What this means is that the reintegration of the human

1 Benedict XVI, Behold the Pierced One: An Approach to a Spiritual Christology (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1986), 128. SALKELD A Catholic Perspective on Salvation 74 community is an essential aspect of what it means for us to be reconciled to God in eternity. We might imagine God at the centre of a sphere and human persons spread around the perimeter, distant from God and from one another. Everyone who approaches the centre is closer not only to God, but to everyone else who is approaching the centre. The communion of saints is a community of those in love with God and therefore with one another. And one way of understanding salvation is as communion with God and neighbour. b) The Forgiveness of Sins If the image of the sphere is a helpful one, we can imagine sin as the centrifugal force that pushes us away from the centre and spreads us out from one another the further we get from the centre. Both Catholics and Evangelicals would agree that sin (and its consequences) is what we are saved from. It makes no sense to talk about salvation if there is not some threat. Sin, and its impact on our lives and relationships, is that threat. Where many Catholics would expect to find a difference with Evangelicals would be around the issue of dealing with the consequences of sin. (Again, the fairness of the characterization can be left open for now. The point here is simply to highlight how many Catholics would feel.) In his work on the Trinity, St Augustine uses the metaphor of a wound from a spear to make this point. According to Augustine, it is one thing to remove a spear from one’s body and another thing to heal the wound left by the spear. Similarly, it is one thing to have sin forgiven and another to have its effects in one’s life healed, even if the first is a necessary prerequisite for the second.1 The Catholic emphasis on the need for healing the wounds of sin takes on forms that are unfamiliar to Evangelicals, such as the sacrament of reconciliation2 with associated penances or praying for

1 St Augustine of Hippo, ‘On the Trinity: Book Eight, Chapter 17,’ in Augustine of Hippo: Selected Writings, ed. Mary T. Clark (New York: Paulist Press, 1984), 356. 2 I think many Evangelicals would be interested to know that the Catholic Church teaches that the desire for reconciliation is enough to secure forgiveness from God. In this way, the Catholic understanding approaches the Evangelical conviction that we can confess directly to God. On the other hand, such a desire is not considered sufficient if the opportunity to act it out sacramentally is overlooked. For Catholics, contrition must be manifested in 75 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 the dead in purgatory.1 Catholics do not understand the forgiveness of sin to be predicated on works because we are expected to do an act of charity or say a series of prayers in order for the sacrament of reconciliation to be complete. Rather, we believe that prayers and acts of charity work in us to heal the wounds that sin, even forgiven sin, has left in our lives. (The same thing applies to prayers for others, including the dead. Of course, prayer for others is intimately linked to the idea of the communion of saints as well. Catholics often think of themselves as journeying together with the whole Church, living and dead, on the way to God. The image of the Church as a boat and God as a safe harbour is a traditional one.) This Catholic inclination to emphasize the necessity of healing even beyond the fact of God’s forgiveness is, of course, intimately related to the sixteenth century debates about justification that splintered the Church. Perhaps one way to frame those debates is to say that they were about what the forgiveness of sin actually looks like and entails. But, even if we have here come up against one of our deeper differences, I think it is fair to say that ‘forgiveness of sins’ is one thing that both Evangelicals and Catholics would intimately link with their understanding of salvation. In other words, even our biggest differences seem to be located within areas of broad agreement. c) The Resurrection of the Body When Christ appeared to the disciples in the upper room, he appeared wounded. This biblical image, it seems to me, provides a useful segue between the previous clause of the creed and this one. What it says, I suggest, is that our salvation is intimately related to our personal history. Our resurrected bodies will not replace our earthly bodies, but blossom out of them, like a plant from a seed, as St Paul writes in 1 Cor. 15. But, for all that, they will still be recognizably our bodies, not least because they bear our scars. We think of scars as signs of injury, the community of faith through the sacrament precisely because of the reciprocity between our relationship with God and with neighbour that Catholics emphasize. 1 After celebrating the sacrament of confession, Catholics are typically given a penance. This usually involves saying a prayer or prayers or doing some act of kindness. If I may give a personal example, I once confessed anger at some people who had stolen from me. My penance was to pray for them. My anger evaporated very quickly. SALKELD A Catholic Perspective on Salvation 76 but they are also signs of healing. It follows on the Catholic understanding that sin must be forgiven and its wounds healed that, in heaven, we will be recognizably ourselves. Wounds that simply vanished, instead of going through some sort of (perhaps painful) healing process would be a poor sign of our redeemed history.1 Our risen bodies, marked by our personal histories, serve to identify us even beyond history. The Resurrection of the Body means that our individuality is not dissolved by our encounter with God, as in some non-Christian religious conceptions, but is rather perfected by it. The resurrection of our bodies is, at one and the same time, our participation in Christ’s defeat of sin and death and the redemption of our personal history. It is also a link to the rest of creation and it emphasizes that the logic of the new creation is not that of discarding the old and starting again, but rather of redeeming it. Salvation, then, is a participation in the new heaven and the new earth, in creation made right, beginning with Christ’s own resurrection. d) The Life Everlasting While it is inevitable that we time-bound people, even theologians, will think of a phrase like ‘life everlasting’ as some interminable, perfect history that happens after this very terminable, very imperfect history, the primary meaning of the term is the life of God. As Trinitarian, that life is one of intimate communion and self-giving. Jesus said, ‘I am the life.’ And ‘No one comes to the Father but through me.’ It would not be inaccurate to simply say that salvation is Jesus. The life everlasting that follows the resurrection of our bodies is our participation in the Trinitarian life of God. But we can only be inserted into that life, so to speak, by our identification with Jesus. This is indicated in the biblical metaphor of the Church as Christ’s body,2 or when Paul speaks of us as adopted sons and daughters, while Christ is the one true Son. The kind of self-giving inherent in the Trinity is precisely what our broken history was missing. Christ heals our inability to live selflessly by joining us to his own self-gift in the Trinitarian life.

1 I recently read that many miraculous healings, such as those claimed to happen at Lourdes, leave scars. 2 It is interesting to note that it is in 1 Corinthians that Paul develops this metaphor, and also in 1 Corinthians where, a couple of short chapters later, he talks about the resurrection of the body. 77 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

This carries an interesting consequence, however. If salvation is Jesus and Jesus’s insertion of us into a relationship with his Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit, then salvation is not, as many Catholics innocently presuppose, simply something that happens after death. Here, I think, is an interesting point of convergence with the Evangelical inclination to speak of ‘being saved’ in the past tense that Catholics often find strange. While Catholics do not believe in a ‘once saved, always saved’ model—for us salvation is typically imagined as happening in the future—we do have a theology of heaven on earth. We believe that Christ’s insertion of us into the Trinitarian life begins already in our baptism, when we are baptized in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit—baptized into death and new life. Furthermore, Catholics of a more traditionalist bent may be heard talking about the Mass as heaven on earth. This is because it is at Mass where, being joined to Christ’s body (this is why we are so committed to a doctrine of Real Presence in the Eucharist!), we are able to join in the one high priest’s perfect worship of the Father, a worship that reflects the self-giving life of the Trinity that was revealed to us at Calvary (this is the heart of what Catholics mean when they call the Mass a sacrifice!). I might also add that the communion we receive at Mass follows the same logic outlined above when I discussed the communion of the Saints; namely, that in being brought closer to God we are brought closer to one another, and vice versa. But this insight also implies that heaven on earth is not merely available in the sacraments. It happens whenever we are truly self- giving so as to live in communion with others. Of course, given our sinful nature, that occurs only fleetingly and imperfectly, not definitively. From a Catholic point of view, salvation is glimpsed in this life, even participated in, but not definitively attained. Catholics believe that human freedom can be misused in a way that costs us our salvation. It may be worth noting here, especially in light of recent foment in Evangelical circles about the doctrine of hell, that the Catholic Church believes, definitively, in hell as a possibility. That is to say, the Catholic Church affirms that human freedom can be used to say ‘no’ to God’s love in a final and definitive way. On the other hand, it is important to note that Catholics are not expected to believe that any single individual is in hell and, in fact, many (perhaps even most) SALKELD A Catholic Perspective on Salvation 78

Catholics consider it possible that hell is empty. This opinion (that hell might be empty, not that hell is empty) is to be found at the highest levels and is not at all circumscribed. Conclusion As I noted above, our ideas about salvation are intimately linked to many other issues of ecumenical significance. We have seen at least some of those connections (to purgatory and prayer for the dead, justification, and the meaning of the Eucharist) in what I have written above. It is my hope that, though we cannot follow every question that opens up to its conclusion, seeing our differences in light of the great affirmation we make together concerning our salvation from sin in Christ Jesus will help to put them in their proper perspective. Furthermore, it seems to me that it is easier to discern what our differences have to teach us—what we are called to learn from one another—when those differences are seen within a broader context of agreement. For example, it had never before occurred to me that the Catholic idea of Mass as heaven on earth might have some connection with the Evangelical tendency to talk about salvation in the past tense. To invoke a metaphor I first heard in a course on ecumenism in graduate school, we may speak very different languages, but we can learn to translate better once we have learned the grammar and syntax with which our partners speak. Discussing salvation is a great exercise in the study of theological grammar. 79 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

WHAT DOES IT MEAN FOR EVANGELICALS TO SAY THEY 1 ARE ‘SAVED’?

David Guretzki*

This article provides a broad overview of an evangelical understanding of what it means to be ‘saved.’ The article is not a constructive outworking of evangelical soteriology, but tries to represent widely accepted ways of speaking about salvation amongst evangelicals, especially in a North American context. Using David Bebbington’s ‘evangelical quadrilateral’ as a starting point, the article recounts the importance amongst evangelicals of the doctrine of sin, the work of Christ on the cross for the forgiveness of sin, the need for personal decision to Christ in faith for salvation and the concept of having a personal relationship with Christ as the outworking of salvation.

1 This article was originally presented as a paper to the Canadian Roman Catholic-Evangelical Dialogue group (co-sponsored by the Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops and the Evangelical Fellowship of ), 22- 23 March 2012 in Mississauga, Ontario. The paper arose out of an earlier meeting of the Dialogue group when some of the Roman Catholic members inquired about ‘what evangelicals mean when they ask you whether you are "saved".’ This is my attempt to answer that question in a relatively non- technical and as ‘objective’ way as possible for Catholics who might otherwise be unfamiliar with evangelical ways of speaking. The paper appears here with only minor revisions from the original. Special thanks to my dialogue colleague, Brett Salkeld, whose paper was also presented at the same meeting and which appears in this journal alongside my own. [See above, 72-78 for Salkeld's paper, 'A Catholic Perspective on Salvation'. Ed.] * David Guretzki PhD is Professor of Theology, Church and Public Life at Briercrest College & Seminary, an interdenominational evangelical college and seminary in Caronport, Saskatchewan, Canada. He has taught at Briercrest since 1993, and has served in past as academic dean in both the college and the seminary. He is married and has three children. He serves as an elder in his church, Caronport Community Church. He completed his PhD from McGill University (Montreal) in 2006.

GURETZKI What does it mean for Evagelicals to say they are 'saved'? 80

Preamble In what follows, I have sought to provide a ‘generic’ view of an evangelical understanding of what it means to say one has been ‘saved.’ As such, this article should not be understood as my particular construction of an evangelical theology of salvation (soteriology), but rather as an attempt to provide a general (and as non-technical as possible) description of evangelical ways of speaking about salvation, including some of the theological assumptions I think underlie that language. While there are many places in the paper where my own opinion would coincide with this description, there are many other areas where I would count that description as theologically deficient. It is my own opinion that evangelical soteriology, while upholding important biblical emphases, is in need of critical, theological correction, especially in regard to ecclesiology. In this regard, I see positive signs amongst many evangelical theologians (especially in Canada, though many in the US as well) who are taking up the challenge of trying to maintain the best of what evangelical soteriology has taught while subjecting evangelical soteriology to critique. I write as an ‘insider’ to evangelicalism—as one who came to Christ in an evangelical family committed to involvement in an evangelical church (i.e. Evangelical Free Church of Canada); as one trained inside (and outside) an evangelical theological institution; as one who has served in an evangelical church and now an evangelical college and seminary; and also as one who has grown to see the need for ecumenical breadth. Consequently, I identify myself somewhat along the lines of what Richard Burnett called the late evangelical theologian Donald Bloesch: an ‘ecumenical evangelical.’1 What evangelicals mean by ‘being saved’ In the past decades, scholars of various stripes have sought to clarify what it is that constitutes someone as an ‘evangelical Christian’ as distinct from other Christian traditions. There are not yet definitive conclusions, but one definition which continues to hold important place of privilege is David Bebbington’s famous ‘evangelical quadrilateral’ as originally noted in his 1989 book entitled,

1 Richard Burnett, ‘Donald Bloesch: Ecumenical Evangelical,’ Perspectives: A Journal of Reformed Thought, January 2012. Available online at: 81 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

Evangelicalism in Modern Britain.1 The four distinct emphases of an evangelical are, according to Bebbington: 1) Biblicism—a high regard for the Bible as the Word of God and source of all spiritual truth; 2) Crucicentrism—the centrality of the atoning work of Christ on the cross for salvation and as the centre of all evangelical teaching and preaching; 3) Activism—the belief that faith in Christ’s work compels one to share the faith with others in both word and deed; and 4) Conversionism—the conviction that every individual must turn to Christ through a personal decision in order to be saved from sin.2 It is this last element, conversionism, which can help one to understand many of the main components of evangelical soteriologies. As Stackhouse has aptly put it, evangelicals are conversionist in the sense they ‘believe that (1) everyone must trust Jesus as Saviour and follow him as Lord; and (2) everyone must co-operate with God in a life of growing spiritual maturity.’3 It is the first statement which evangelicals have typically associated most closely with the concept of ‘being saved’ or ‘getting saved.’ For an evangelical, to be saved is to be converted through a personal decision to trust in Jesus. And as biblicists, evangelicals believe that this notion of salvation is scripturally supported at several levels. First, fundamental to an evangelical doctrine of salvation is the belief in the utter fallenness of humanity as a result of Adam and Eve’s sin. Although different evangelicals might express their understanding of how Adam’s sin reaches us, most evangelicals are committed to some form of the doctrine of original sin—the idea that when Adam

1 David W. Bebbington, Evangelicalism in Modern Britain: A History from the 1730s to the 1980s (London: Unwin Hyman, 1989). 2 These summaries are my own. Bebbington’s so-called quadrilateral has been subject to intense scrutiny. While generally accepted as a good starting point, many scholars believe more needs to be said. George Marsden, for example, argues that ‘transdenominationalism’ is essential to evangelicalism. See George Marsden, ‘Introduction,’ in Evangelicalism and Modern America, ed. George Marsden (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1984), vii–xvi. John Stackhouse, Jr. also argues that evangelicals are ‘orthodox and orthoprax: Evangelicals subscribe to the main tenets—doctrinal, ethical, and liturgical— of the churches to which they belong.’ See John Stackhouse, Jr., ‘Defining "Evangelical"’, Church & Faith Trends, 1:1 (October 2007), 3; available online at: 3 Stackhouse, ‘Defining ‘Evangelical’,’ 3. GURETZKI What does it mean for Evagelicals to say they are 'saved'? 82 sinned, the entire human race after him was tainted with sin, even in conception. A classic biblical text oft cited by evangelicals is Romans 3:23 which says that ‘all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.’ That all fall short of God’s glory indicates already, evangelicals reason, that we need to be ‘saved’, and more specifically, saved from the death and damnation which is the result of sin (Roman 6:23 – ‘For the wages of sin is death…’). In this respect, when an evangelical asks, ‘Are you saved?’ he or she is asking, at base, whether a person has acknowledged her or his fundamental ‘sin problem’ which cannot be ‘solved’ apart from a personal reception of the Lord Jesus. To say, ‘I am saved’ for evangelicals is a fundamental acknowledgement of their need to have been rescued from the condemnation from sin. Second, and following closely on the heels of the problem of sin, is the importance of having one’s sin forgiven.1 The forgiveness of sin, for an evangelical, is closely related to Bebbington’s second emphasis on crucicentrism, particularly the view that on the cross, Jesus atoned for sins through his sacrificial death. Although there is currently widespread debate amongst evangelicals about how the atonement is accomplished,2 evangelicals traditionally (and in my opinion, still do) tend to believe that atonement for sin on the cross is primarily penal (i.e. Christ suffers the just punishment for sin) and substitutionary (i.e. Christ suffers the just punishment on our behalf). Thus, to be ‘saved’ is to know that one’s sins have been atoned for by Christ’s death, and therefore can be forgiven upon faith and repentance, as a prerequisite to eternal life. A third aspect of ‘being saved’ for an evangelical has to do with a ‘moment’ of transition from the kingdom of darkness into the

1 It is my view that as important as the forgiveness of sin is for salvation, evangelicals have sometimes forgotten that salvation, in Scripture, is so much more than just having one’s sins forgiven. Salvation, of course, includes adoption as sons and daughters, reconciliation with God, sanctification, and eventually, glorification and redemption of the body in the resurrection. 2 For two books that represent the recent diversity of opinion on the topic of atonement in evangelicalism, see Charles E. Hill and Frank A. James III (eds.), The Glory of the Atonement: Biblical, Theological and Practical Perspectives (Downers Grove, IL: Intervarsity Press, 2006), also James K. Beilby and Paul R. Eddy (eds.), The Nature of the Atonement: Four Views (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic), 2006. 83 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 kingdom of light.1 This moment of transition is most often associated with a personal ‘decision’ to follow Christ. Such a decision has been spoken of by evangelicals in different ways in history, but has often been associated with at least one of the following phrases: 1) ‘being born again’ (John 3:3; cf. Jesus: ‘You must be born again’ John 3:6); 2) ‘believing in Jesus for eternal life’ (cf. John 3:16); 3) ‘accepting Jesus into one’s heart’ or ‘receiving Christ into one’s life’;2 4) ‘deciding to follow Jesus’ (cf. Matt 4:19; Mark 8:34, et al.); 5) ‘accepting [or confessing] Jesus as our personal Lord and Saviour’ (cf. Rom. 10:9; 2 Pet. 1:1; 2:20). In all of these ways of speaking, it is viewed as being self-evident for evangelicals that such transition from death unto life, from darkness into life, is accompanied by a personal decision of faith to follow Christ. Indeed, the one who is arguably the most famous twentieth century evangelical, Billy Graham, typifies how evangelicals understand the ‘decision of faith.’3 As he would often say at his crusades, ‘Every person Jesus called, he called publicly. And today I want to give you that opportunity to make a decision to follow him right here and right now.’ (My paraphrase.) It is no surprise that with evangelicals’ emphasis upon a personal decision of faith, two common practices have arisen in evangelical traditions that coincide with or encourage such a decision. These are: 1) the altar call (a time, usually after some kind of evangelistic or church service, where a person can ‘come forward’ in a church to receive Christ);4 and 2) the praying of the ‘sinner’s prayer’ (i.e. a prayer whose form is almost universally an acknowledgement of one’s own sinfulness, one’s own need of a Savior, and a request to God to have Christ be one’s Savior and to forgive one’s sins). Though it is not at all

1 Cf. Col. 1:13: ‘For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.’ 2 Neither of which, ironically, appear to have clear Scriptural precedents, even though they are some of the most common phrases used by evangelicals! 3 It is noteworthy that the title of the official magazine of the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association is Decision. 4 Though in my experience, the altar call seems to be less and less a feature of evangelical churches these days. GURETZKI What does it mean for Evagelicals to say they are 'saved'? 84 necessary in evangelicals’ understanding to have received Christ only at an evangelistic or church meeting, nor is it necessary to have prayed a formulaic sinner’s prayer, evangelicals are nevertheless broadly unified in their belief that the beginning of the Christian life requires some kind of personal decision. The altar call and sinner’s prayer just happen to be two of the historically common manifestations of practice amongst evangelicals that such a decision has taken place. Many evangelicals can also give testimony of the time and place when they ‘received Christ,’ whether it was at home at their parents’ bedside (as was the case for me) or at a meeting or in conversation with another Christian. Evangelicals consequently also like to talk about ‘leading others to Christ’ as a natural outworking of their view of the centrality of personal decision. The emphasis placed on ‘making a decision for Christ’ makes it typical for evangelicals to inquire of persons about whether they have ever received Christ as their personal Savior. In so asking, evangelicals are inquiring about whether the person has made a conscious decision to follow Christ. And though it is generally and broadly acceptable to evangelicals if a person cannot remember the precise day or hour at when he or she accepted Christ, most evangelicals do want to know that there was a time, a moment, when the person came to the realization that they wanted to follow Jesus. It is my opinion that the aspect of ‘decisionism’ (as some have called it) has led, at times, to an unhealthy fascination with the ‘moment’ of salvation such that the life of Christian discipleship after the decision can sometimes be overshadowed by recalling the ‘time and place’ of conversion. Fortunately, evangelicals in the past decades have been more apt (in my observation, at least) to accept that some people really can’t pinpoint the time of their conversion and may even allow that there was a process during which someone gradually came to acknowledge Christ. There is also an increased attention given to the need for discipleship and not just ‘getting converts’.1 Consequently, evangelicals are increasingly ready to acknowledge that people in other Christian traditions (e.g. Catholics, Orthodox, Anglicans) may

1 In 1999, there was an editorial in Christianity Today entitled, ‘Make Disciples, Not Just Converts’ which today, I think, would be almost self- evident for many (most?) evangelicals. See: 85 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 not be ‘evangelical’ in the sense that they themselves understand the term, but are definitely convinced that such people have a personal relationship with Christ. In such cases, evangelicals will sometimes say something along the lines of the following: ‘Joe is a Roman Catholic [or Orthodox, or Lutheran or Anglican, etc. etc.], but he is evangelical,’ which when theologically translated means, ‘It doesn’t matter what denomination you are [transdenominational] as long as you have made a personal decision [conversionist] to believe in Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins [crucicentrist] and to follow Christ with your life [activist].’ Ultimately, evangelical insistence upon making a decision for Christ reveals a deeper theological assumption that someone is either ‘in’ or ‘out’ of the kingdom of God and that there is no ‘sitting on the fence’ between the kingdom of darkness and the kingdom of light. Evangelicals will readily admit that it may be ambiguous to an onlooker whether a person is truly a believer, but theologically they believe that a person either really is or really is not a true believer; that is, evangelicals are convinced that someone really is or really is not ‘saved.’ A fourth aspect of evangelical understanding of ‘being saved’ extends also to the Christian life itself. Negatively, evangelicals have usually been quick to point out that external markers such as church membership, baptism, reception of the Lord’s Supper, going to Church, doing good works, etc. are not sufficient in and of themselves as true markers of salvation. This is because for evangelicals, salvation is primarily an ‘invisible’ work of God and participation in these externals does not themselves guarantee salvation. Indeed, all of these things are broadly understood by evangelicals to be signs of salvation, but are not salvific in and of themselves. Of course, evangelicals do affirm the importance (and to greater or lesser extents, depending on one’s denominational stripe, necessity) of these externals but again, will always insist that they do not have salvific value in and of themselves. In this regard, evangelicals typically are resistant to all forms of ‘works righteousness’ whereby salvation is gained through fulfillment of meritorious actions. As such, evangelicals will often appeal to Ephesians 2:8-10 as a fundamental text describing the relationship of works to faith. ‘For it is by grace you have been saved [perfect past tense: ‘have been saved’] through faith [understood here as faith in Jesus]—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— GURETZKI What does it mean for Evagelicals to say they are 'saved'? 86 not by works, so that no one can boast [i.e., there is no salvation by works or effort]. For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do [efforts and works are the natural outworking of salvation, but not the prerequisite to salvation].’ Here three of the five great sola’s of the reformers are of paramount importance to evangelical soteriology: sola fide (‘by faith alone’); sola gratia (‘by grace alone’); and solo Christo (‘through Christ alone’).1 ‘Solo Christo’ Positively, evangelicals affirm that salvation is marked by a ‘personal relationship with Christ.’ Without going extensively into the history of this idea, one can safely say that it is at least partially (even if not solely) linked to the longstanding Protestant idea, drawn from evangelical interpretation of Scripture, that there is no need of any other human mediators in order to have access to God, other than through Jesus Christ who alone is the Way, the Truth, and the Life (John 14:6). Protestant evangelicals confidently say that Jesus is their high priest (Heb. 4:14-16) and mediator (1 Tim. 2:5), the consequence of which is that there is no need to go to a human priest or to accept a sacrament of the church in order to gain access to God. Evangelicals believe that Jesus is all that we need, and it is common for evangelicals to speak of the ‘sole sufficiency of Christ’ as a code phrase for rejection of human and sacramental mediation for salvation. The evangelical focus on having a personal relationship with Christ is nearly synonymous with the idea of ‘being saved.’ It is only those who have accepted Christ’s sole work as mediator who truly have salvation; all other forms of mediation are viewed with suspicion because reliance on other means calls into question the extent to which the person has trusted solely in Christ and his sufficiency for salvation. Evangelicals tend to be suspicious of all ‘means’ (other than Jesus himself) as having salvific value because of their nervousness toward anything that seems close to ‘works righteousness’. The evangelical insistence that salvation is all about having personal relationship with Christ also brings with it a distinct evangelical piety

1 The other two sola’s were important to the Reformers’ soteriology as well, though less often associated by evangelicals as soteriological elements per se: sola Scriptura (by Scripture alone) and soli Deo gloria (glory to God alone). 87 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 or spirituality. In having a personal relationship with Christ, evangelicals believe, for example: 1) that extemporaneous prayers can be offered as a means of communicating with and hearing from God (1 Tim. 2:1-2); 2) that personal reading and interpretation of Scripture is a means by which one comes to know Jesus and his will better (2 Tim. 3:14-17); 3) that sharing the Gospel of Jesus with others and doing good works is a ‘natural’ outworking of the gift of salvation (1 Thess. 2:8); 4) that confession of sin for forgiveness can be made directly to Jesus without the need for a human mediator (even if confession of sins one to another is encouraged for growth) (1 John 1:9); and 5) that Christ has gifted individuals with various gifts of the Spirit to carry out service to the church and the world, and that ministry is consequently not simply restricted to those in ‘vocational’ roles (1 Cor. 12:1-11). A fifth aspect of a typical evangelical understanding of ‘being saved’ extends to eschatology. Although evangelicals have a tendency to think about salvation more in terms of ‘past tense’ (‘have been saved’) than in future tense (‘will be saved’), there is an implicit understanding that salvation is also future. This is particularly the case for evangelicals who understand that ‘being saved’ certainly means ‘being saved from hell’. To be sure, today there is currently significant tumult amongst evangelicals about the status of the so- called ‘traditional view of hell’. Yet it is also true that evangelical soteriology is still largely (though no longer exclusively) quick to reject any and all forms of universalism (i.e. the belief that in the end, God will bring all creatures, or at least all humans, to salvation and eternal bliss). A corollary to its anti-universalist stance has been evangelicals’ insistence on the reality of eternal judgment (hell) for those who have not received Christ. It has been a fairly standard evangelical position that a conscious decision to follow Christ is necessary to be saved from the torments of hell (though again, this is GURETZKI What does it mean for Evagelicals to say they are 'saved'? 88 an area that is being widely debated now).1 Indeed, much evangelical missiology in the twentieth century argued that the existence of hell functioned as a motivator for world mission. For, many reasoned, if people can escape the judgment of hell without knowledge of Christ, then mission is unnecessary. A closing reflection As indicated in my preamble, my intention in this paper has been to provide as broad an overview of evangelical understandings of what it means to be ‘saved’ while recognizing that there is a spectrum of attitudes amongst evangelicals at various points. Where I believe evangelical soteriology has been consistently strong is on its ever- present desire to keep people focused on Jesus Christ as the only means of receiving the saving grace of God. Where evangelical soteriology has been weaker, however, is in its ecclesiology. That is, evangelicals are usually quick to encourage people to receive Jesus Christ as Savior of the world, but are slower in reminding people that the Jesus they are receiving is also the Head of the Church, his Body. It is, in part, why it is sometimes easier for evangelicals to get converts, but harder to get disciples who see their formation as followers of Jesus in the context of the people of God. Fortunately, I also see great promise amongst evangelical thinkers and leaders who are increasingly convinced that ecclesiology needs much more focus than it has typically in evangelical circles.2

1 See for example, Dennis L. Okholm, Clark H. Pinnock, Alister E. McGrath, and Stanley N. Gundry, Four Views on Salvation in a Pluralistic World (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1996). 2 Several works could be cited as evidence for the increased attention amongst evangelicals to the relationship of soteriology and ecclesiology, but for one recent example, see Brad Harper and Paul Louis Metzger, Exploring Ecclesiology: An Evangelical and Ecumenical Introduction (Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2009). 89 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

ANGLICAN–ROMAN CATHOLIC DIALOGUE ON ETHICS AND MORAL THEOLOGY: AN ANGLICAN PERSPECTIVE

Charles Sherlock*

This article traces the path of official dialogue between Anglicans and Roman Catholics on moral life. A Joint Commission on Marriage worked from 1967 to 1975: its findings were welcomed by Lambeth 1978, and taken up in Canada. ARCIC’s Life in Christ (1994) pioneered ecumenical dialogue on ethics, extended ARCIC’s method, and reached a significant level of agreement. Subsequent ARCIC work has deepened the dialogues method, notably in relation to eschatology. But differences over moral life within and between the two traditions since then mean that further work is needed: a major task of ARCIC III.

1. Anglican-Roman Catholic dialogue: early stages The ARCIC dialogue arose from the 1966 Common Declaration of Pope Paul VI and the , Michael Ramsey.1 Two Joint Commissions were set up: one to prepare recommendations for official dialogue, the other to look at issues surrounding marriage (the presenting pastoral issue). The Joint Preparatory Commission met in 1967. Its ‘Malta Report’ stated, in relation to ethics:2 • ‘Joint or parallel statements from our Church leaders’ should be issued ‘on urgent human issues’ (14); and • ‘It is hoped that the work of the Joint Commission on Marriage will be promptly initiated and vigorously pursued’ (16).

* Charles Sherlock is a priest of the Anglican Diocese of Bendigo and an Honorary Research Fellow, MCD University of Divinity. He has been a member of ARCIC II and ARCIC III since 1991. 1 Available at: 2 The Malta Report is included with The Final Report, and is available at: SHERLOCK Anglican-RC Dialogue on Ethics & Moral Theology 90

More significantly, the following recommendation was made, but was not pursued: • ‘We also recommend joint study of moral theology to determine similarities and differences in our teaching and practice in this field’ (23). The major recommendation was the setting up of a Permanent Joint Commission, with two sub-commissions (intercommunion/ecclesi- ology, and authority): in the event, a single Commission, ARCIC, took up both. Only two decades later was moral theology considered. ARCIC’s initial Agreed Statements, on Eucharist (1971) and Ministry (1973), make no direct reference to ethics. Authority I (1976), explicating ‘Christian Authority’, does so implicitly: Since the Lordship of Christ is universal, the community also bears a responsibility towards all mankind [sic], which demands participation in all that promotes the good of society and responsiveness to every form of human need … This is Christian authority: when Christians so act and speak, men [sic] perceive the authoritative word of Christ (2). The Elucidation on Ministry (1979), and Authority II (1981) include nothing of direct relevance to ethics work, though the Elucidation on Authority I (1981) begins to approach this area: When this responsibility … requires [a bishop] to declare a person to be in error in respect of doctrine or conduct, even to the point of exclusion … (5) The final paragraph of the Elucidation on the Eucharist (1976), however, includes this note: There are other important issues, such as the eschatological dimension of the eucharist and its relation to contemporary questions of human liberation and social justice, which we have either not fully developed or not explicitly treated (10). This is the first recognition in ARCIC’s published work that its charge to work on disagreements means that what is held in common can be obscured—and how Christians live out their faith is mostly a matter of agreement. The major areas of moral disagreement between Anglicans and Roman Catholics centre around sexuality and marriage: in the 1960s, amid the ‘sexual revolution’, ‘mixed marriages’ could still bring about family division and social exclusion, while Humanae Vitae (1968) drew sharp attention to differences over the use of 91 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 contraception in marriage (as allowed in Resolution 15 of the 1930 Lambeth Conference).1 It was thus not surprising that a Joint Commission on Marriage was set up in 1967, alongside the Joint Preparatory Commission which led to ARCIC. In their 1977 Common Declaration, Paul VI and the Archbishop of Canterbury, Donald Coggan note: ‘We are following attentively the work thus far accomplished by the Joint Commission on the Theology of Marriage and its Application to Mixed Marriages.’ This body’s 1975 Report, however, was its final work—and to that we now turn. 2. The Joint Commission on Marriage (1967–1975) The Report of the Joint Commission on the Theology of Marriage and its Application to Mixed Marriages (its self-chosen title) is quite different to ARCIC statements in its approach. An initial section lays out, meeting by meeting, the work undertaken and Reports issued. After two meetings in 1968, which agreed on ‘three fundamental theological principles’, the Commission became aware that the Instruction Matrimonii Sacramentum of 1966 was under revision in the light of Vatican II. It thus waited for three years for the Letter, issued motu proprio by Paul VI in March 1970, Matrimonia Mixta, before continuing work. From an Anglican perspective this delay raises questions about how far dialogue rests on ‘deep’ agreement rather than response to ecclesial decisions. The ‘three fundamental theological principles’ are worth citing in full:

1 ‘Where there is clearly felt moral obligation to limit or avoid parenthood, the method must be decided on Christian principles. The primary and obvious method is complete abstinence from intercourse (as far as may be necessary) in a life of discipline and self-control lived in the power of the Holy Spirit. Nevertheless in those cases where there is such a clearly felt moral obligation to limit or avoid parenthood, and where there is a morally sound reason for avoiding complete abstinence, the Conference agrees that other methods may be used, provided that this is done in the light of the same Christian principles. The Conference records its strong condemnation of the use of any methods of conception control from motives of selfishness, luxury, or mere convenience.’ Voting: for 193; against 67. This Resolution comes in the middle of a dozen Resolutions on ‘The Life and Witness of the Christian Community—Marriage and Sex’. SHERLOCK Anglican-RC Dialogue on Ethics & Moral Theology 92

i) That Holy Baptism itself confers Christian status and is the indestructible bond of union between all Christians and Christ, and so of Christians with one another. This baptismal unity remains firm despite all ecclesiastical division. ii) That in Christian marriage the man and the woman themselves make the covenant whereby they enter into marriage as instituted and ordained by God; this new unity, the unity of marriage, is sacramental in virtue of their Christian baptism and is the work of God in Christ. iii) That this marriage once made possesses a unity given by God to respect which is a primary duty; this duty creates secondary obligations for the Church in both its pastoral and its legislative capacity. One is the obligation to discourage marriages in which the unity would be so strained or so lacking in vitality as to be both a source of danger to the parties themselves and to be a disfigured sign of or defective witness to the unity of Christ with his Church. Another is the obligation to concert its pastoral care and legislative provisions to support the unity of the marriage once it is made and to ensure as best it can that these provisions be not even unwittingly divisive. The first agreement about baptism is presumed but left unstated in ARCIC’s work. But it is of immense significance, and could well be re- affirmed by ARCIC or IARCCUM, along with analysis of how baptism relates to confirmation (a matter of debate in both traditions).1 The second statement maintains the western understanding of the ‘ministers’ of marriage, and is careful in speaking of marriage—not just the wedding—as ‘sacramental’, an affirmation which should be acceptable to all Anglicans.2 Of what marriage is sacramental is not stated at this point, however, but is beautifully filled out in 21, arising from the 1975 meeting: The sacramental nature of marriage is also affirmed, partly in the moral sense of enduring obligation (sacramentum) expressed in the marriage vow, partly in the sense of sign (signum): a sign to the world of what marriage in the natural order by God’s ordinance is and ought to be; a sign to the world and to the Church of Christ’s irrevocable covenant with the Church and of the mutual love which finds expression between Him and the Church, and which ought to exist

1 That Anglicans who join the Ordinariate must be re-confirmed raises confirmation as a communion-dividing matter for the first time. 2 The union between Christ and the Church is a consequence of the Gospel, rather than the Gospel itself, hence Anglican rejection of marriage as a ‘sacrament of the Gospel’ (cf. ARCIC Ministry 11, note 4). 93 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

between the Church’s members; and a sign to married people, to the world and the Church, that continuance within the covenant is dependent upon the continued forgiving and renewing grace of God; and finally in its being made by Christ into an effective sign of grace when it is celebrated between the baptized. It is from all this, with continuance in the sacramental life of the Church, that Christian marriage takes its specific character and achieves its fulness. The third statement sets out an important framework for considering how churches respond when things go wrong around marriage. This is a significant statement for those Anglicans who think Rome takes an overly simplistic or ideological stance about marriage breakdown. The body of the Report falls into three Sections: ‘The Relevant Theology’ (baptism, marriage, law, and the ‘subsistit’ of Lumen Gentium); ‘Defective Marital Situations’ (including an exegesis of the gospel texts from Barnabas Lindars and Henry Wansbrough,1 and a dated account of Anglican practice); and ‘Mixed Marriages’ (focussed around Roman Catholic requirements for canonical form and the promise relating to children—with an important exegesis of the latter, and positive suggestion for the former: see d) below). From an Anglican perspective, four points about the Commission’s Report should be noted: a) Marriage and ‘law’ The different historical and social contexts regarding marriage and ‘law’ in the Anglican and Roman Catholic traditions are spelled out in the Joint Commission Report (cf. Life in Christ—two decades later— 52, 102). For Roman Catholics, it is claimed, canon law prevails over all other, whereas in England, canon law has lived alongside common law for centuries, before and after the Reformation. As the national, ‘state’ Church of England spread through its colonies, the legal context may have changed, but the distinction remained (cf. Life in Christ 38-41, 65-6).

1 Lindars and Wansbrough agree ‘that the exceptive clauses in Matthew are additions to the words of Jesus’ but disagree as to whether Jesus intended his words to be ‘a directive to the disciples which would be normative’ (Wansbrough) or ‘concerned with bringing people face to face with themselves in the reality of the marriage bond when they contemplate divorce and remarriage’ (Lindars). SHERLOCK Anglican-RC Dialogue on Ethics & Moral Theology 94

The Report sums up the perceived difference in this way: ‘In his [sic] ordinary Christian living the Anglican accepts the authority of the Church as a moral obligation; the sense of their being a law to keep seldom occurs to him [sic]’ (25).1 Of the Roman Catholic it states, ‘Though he [sic] might feel particular Church regulations to be irksome and even in extreme instances to be an abuse of the Church’s authority, he would hardly recognize a general separation of moral obligation from ecclesiastical law such as that described in para. 25’(26). On marriage being ‘indissoluble’, the Report notes that the Church of England position was the strictest in Christendom for many decades (due initially to the gap in canon law from 1558–1597). ‘The general tendency in modern Anglicanism, however, until the last two decades, has been towards a full indissolubilist position, and resolutions of Lambeth Conferences have declared this unequivocally’ (42). In my opinion this claim is exaggerated: it would be better put in terms of life-long union being the ‘first order principle’ behind Anglican conviction about marriage, grounded in the teaching of Christ. As Lambeth 1978 stated in Resolution 34, churches bear pastoral responsibility for those for whom ‘no course absolutely consonant’ with this principle may be available.2

1 No reference is made to Resolution 67 of Lambeth 1908: ‘We desire earnestly to warn members of our Communion against contracting marriages with Roman Catholics under the conditions imposed by modern Roman canon law, especially as these conditions involve the performance of the marriage ceremony without any prayer or invocation of the divine blessing, and also a promise to have their children brought up in a religious system which they cannot themselves accept.’ This was reiterated in Resolution 98 (1948), omitting the clause about no prayer or invocation: see d) below for Resolution 34 (1978). 2 Resolution 4 of 1888, by which time marriage in England and the USA and their colonies was under civil jurisdiction, supports this claim, the only concession to the divorced being that ‘the Conference recommends that the clergy should not be instructed to refuse the sacraments’ to ‘innocent parties’ who have married while their former partner is still living. And Resolution 25 (1908, in reference to ‘native marriages’) supports the claim by implication, as does Resolution 40 (holding, by a vote of 87 to 84, that a church blessing for the marriage of an ‘innocent’ divorced person is ‘undesirable’). But Resolution 39 (1908), Resolution 67 (1920) and Resolution 11 (1930), in allowing for a married person with a former partner still alive to be in 95 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

Finally, the Report notes changes of marriage discipline in the Anglican Provinces of the USA, Canada, New Zealand and Australia, but gives no details. A tantalizing note is made regarding the Orthodox Churches, with whom Rome is in ‘near perfect’ communion, yet whose ‘marriage discipline includes the practice of re-marriage in church after divorce’ (55). Could such a simple recognition be a way forward in relation to the Anglican Communion? b) Ecclesiology The Joint Commission Report notes that the Commission was ‘soon made aware that behind the differences of practice, both pastoral and juridical, lay deeper problems of theology’ (9). Behind the promise to raise children ‘not simply as Christians … but particularly as Roman Catholics, lay a doctrine of the Church which Roman Catholics cannot abandon and which Anglicans cannot accept.’ As a result, [W]e formally requested that the ecclesiological questions would be undertaken for us by ARCIC, which had within itself greater theological competence than we could command. This request could not be met … Accordingly, we had to attend to these questions ourselves; and, having attempted them, we were the more convinced that there remained much in them requiring more thorough theological analysis. Though ARCIC has since considered the key issues in relation to ministry and authority, the root issue of ecclesiology has not yet been fully addressed. It has been raised in ARCIC meetings (e.g. noting the significance of ‘subsistit’, or in reflecting on Dominus Iesus and the language of ‘sister churches’) but not in Agreed Statements. Further, as noted above, no reflection on baptism or confirmation is made in ARCIC’s Statements: attending to this may clarify the ecclesiological questions.1 A beginning could be made by ARCIC analysing the communion, render the Report’s sweeping claim in doubt. Resolutions about marriage from 1958 onwards are less concerned with divorce and more focussed on pastoral responses to polygamy in some nations, and the changes in sexual mores in the west. (All the Resolutions are available at ) 1 Church as Communion (1990), the Statement most likely to take up this topic, mentions baptism but thrice, including a citation from the 1989 Common Declaration of Pope John Paul II and the Archbishop of Canterbury, Robert Runcie, which acknowledges ‘our common baptism into Christ’. No discussion of confirmation is made. SHERLOCK Anglican-RC Dialogue on Ethics & Moral Theology 96

‘ecclesiological principles’ of Anglicanorum Coetibus (which raise keen questions about its interpretation of Lumen Gentium). c) Language Several language issues point to some lack of precision in the Report. As an Anglican, I am happy to read that I belong to a ‘Church’—ARCIC statements are more careful with ecclesial terms, reflecting the differing self-understandings of each dialogue partner. The Report also speaks of ‘re-marriage’, terminology avoided in Life in Christ. More problematically, it continually speaks of ‘mixed marriage’ (following Matrimonia Mixta) though the possibility of using ‘ecumenical’ and ‘inter-Church’ is mentioned in a footnote. More significantly from an Anglican perspective, the Report speaks of ‘Christian marriage’, rather than ‘marriage in Christ’, though it does note the conviction of the Church of England (including its pre-Reformation life) that marriage is grounded in the ‘order of creation, taken by Christ and the Church into the sacramental order’ (12, and see further below). In short, the language of this 1975 Report continues to regard marriage between an Anglican and Roman Catholic Christian as a problem, rather than as an ecumenical opportunity—which observation may itself reflect an Anglican bias! What may be discerned from the life of such a married couple about the re-united visible church which is yet to be? d) 1978 Lambeth Conference, Resolution 34 Fourthly, the 1978 Lambeth Conference Resolution 34 must be noted. While it maintains the general position taken in 1908 and 1948 on the promise required of the non-Roman Catholic parent, it is much ‘softer’ in tone, and its endorsement of the positive suggestion in the 1975 Report is significant. Resolution 34 (1978): Anglican-Roman Catholic Marriages The Conference welcomes the report of the Anglican-Roman Catholic Commission on ‘The Theology of Marriage and its Application to Mixed Marriages’ (1975). In particular we record our gratitude for the general agreement on the theology of Christian marriage there outlined, and especially for the affirmation of the ‘first order principle’ of life-long union (i.e. in the case of a breakdown of marriage). We also welcome the recognition that the differing pastoral practices of our two traditions do in fact recognise and seek to share a common responsibility for those for whom ‘no course 97 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

absolutely consonant with the first order principle of marriage as a life- long union may be available’. We also endorse the recommendations of the Commission in respect of inter-Church marriages: (1) that, after joint preparation and pastoral care given by both the Anglican and Roman Catholic counsellors concerned, a marriage may validly and lawfully take place before the duly authorised minister of either party, without the necessity of Roman Catholic dispensation; (2) that, as an alternative to an affirmation or promise by the Roman Catholic party in respect of the baptism and upbringing of any children, the Roman Catholic parish priest may give a written assurance to his bishop that he has put the Roman Catholic partner in mind of his or her obligations and that the other spouse knows what these are. We note that there are some variations in different regions in the provisions of Roman Catholic directories on inter-Church marriages. We nevertheless warmly welcome the real attempts of many Roman Catholic episcopal conferences to be pastorally sensitive to those problems arising out of their regulations, which remain an obstacle to the continued growth of fraternal relations between us. In particular, we note a growing Roman Catholic understanding that a decision as to the baptism and upbringing of any children should be made within the unity of the marriage, in which the Christian conscience of both partners must be respected. We urge that this last development be encouraged. The problems associated with marriage between members of our two Communions continue to hinder inter-Church relations and progress towards unity. While we recognise that there has been an improved situation in some places as a result of the ‘Motu Propio’ [i.e. Matrimonia Mixta], the general principles underlying the Roman Catholic position are unacceptable to Anglicans. Equality of conscience as between partners in respect of all aspects of their marriage (and in particular with regard to the baptism and religious upbringing of children) is something to be affirmed both for its own sake and for the sake of an improved relationship between the Churches. 3. The Canadian ARC Pastoral Guidelines (1987) In 1987, the National Anglican-Roman Catholic Bishops’ Dialogue in Canada issued Pastoral Guidelines which take a more positive line than the Joint Commission Report, signalled for example in the use of SHERLOCK Anglican-RC Dialogue on Ethics & Moral Theology 98

‘Inter-Church’ throughout.1 These Guidelines view such marriages as an ecumenical opportunity, and set out 22 Articles covering preparation, procedures, participation and pastoral care. The Guidelines pay full regard to official church teaching, and include a careful explication of the differing ways in which canon law is interpreted by Anglicans and Roman Catholics. But the substance of the 22 Articles flows from the following theological bases: Though Anglicans and Roman Catholics who marry have been baptised in different Churches, their union is a true sacrament and gives rise to a ‘domestic church’ … Marriage, as a covenant, builds upon the original baptismal covenant by which the believer is united to Jesus and his Body, the Church. Exercising the priesthood of their baptism-confirmation [Fr: sacerdoce découlant de son baptême et de sa confirmation], each baptized party administers in the name of the Church the sacrament to the other, with its special sacramental grace, which perdures throughout their married life. These are impressive agreements, building significantly on the 1975 Report, and the Articles reflect considerable wisdom: whether they remain in place, or have been updated, has not been able to be ascertained. 4. Agreed Statements issued by ARCIC, 1985-93 ARCIC was reconstituted after The Final Report: its second stage, before a revision of its membership in 1991, saw two Agreed Statements issued, Salvation and the Church (1985) and Church as Communion (1990). Moral theology and ethics have a clear general relevance to both topics, but are handled indirectly. a) Salvation and the Church (1985) Given the Reformation debates over ‘good works’, ethical questions of necessity arise when considering justification and especially sanctification. So we read of the latter, ‘The law of Christ has become the pattern of our life. We are enabled to produce good works which are the fruit of the Holy Spirit’ (17). The sub-section Salvation and Good

1 Pastoral Guidelines for Interchurch marriages between Anglicans and Roman Catholics in Canada/Directives Pastorales pour Les Mariages Inter-Églises entre Anglicans et Catholiques au Canada (Publications Service, The Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops, 1987). 99 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

Works (19-24), though focussed on doctrinal issues such as ‘merit’, affirms the significance of ‘righteous’ living in the Christian life, centred on Ephesians 2:8ff (with a footnote to Article X). More positively, the Church is said to be already here and now a foretaste of God’s Kingdom … a fellowship where, since all are justified by the grace of God, all may learn to do justice to one another; where racial, ethnic, social, sexual and other distinctions no longer cause discrimination and alienation (Gal. 3:28) … Only a reconciled and reconciling community, faithful to its Lord … can speak with full integrity to an alienated, divided world, and so be a credible witness to God’s saving action in Christ and a foretaste of God’s Kingdom (30). The following paragraph fills this out ethically in terms of being called to affirm the sacredness and dignity of the person, the value of natural and political communities … to witness against the structure of sin in society, addressing humanity with the Gospel of repentance and forgiveness and making intercession for the world. It is called to be an agent of justice and compassion (31). On this, Anglicans, Roman Catholics and all Christians can agree. b) Church as Communion (1990) This Statement does not explore differences between the Anglican and Roman Catholic traditions, so much as seek to make explicit the ‘communion ecclesiology’ which ARCIC took a leading role in developing. In doing so, ethical dimensions of life in Christ are spelled out in more explicit terms than in earlier ARCIC statements. Church as Communion builds on the final sub-section of Salvation and the Church, which has portrayed the Church as sign of the Gospel (Salvation, 26), ‘entrusted with a responsibility of stewardship’ in ‘proclaiming the Gospel by its sacramental and pastoral life’ (27) and ‘as instrument for the realisation of God’s eternal design, the salvation of humanity’ (28). In sum, the Church ‘can be described as sacrament of God’s saving work’: as such, members’ sins, institutional ‘shortcomings’ and ‘the scandal of division’ undermine its credibility (29). These ethical underpinnings are filled out in Church as Communion’s structure of Church as sign/instrument/foretaste and so ‘sacrament’ motifs, but now with ‘the vision of God’s reign’ in view (3). Ethical matters are raised in noting that divisions in communion are sin, and ecclesial holiness is seen ‘paradoxically’ in weakness, suffering and poverty (21). Members are ‘called to give themselves in loving SHERLOCK Anglican-RC Dialogue on Ethics & Moral Theology 100 witness and service to their fellow human beings’ (22), and apostolic ‘faithfulness must be realised in daily life’, while recognizing that ‘in every age and culture authentic faithfulness is expressed in new ways and by fresh insights’ (27). In discussing ‘catholicity’, human diversity is recognised as positive (35). However, while this ‘is evident in the variety of liturgies and forms of spirituality, in the variety of disciplines and ways of exercising authority, in the variety of theological approaches, and even in the variety of theological expressions of the same doctrine’ (36), nothing is said about possible diversity in ethical responses. And the negative side of diversity is taken up not only in terms of denial or distortion of apostolic faith, but the latter ‘is also threatened whenever the faith is obscured by attitudes and behaviours in the Church which are not in accord with its calling to be the holy people of God.’ Moreover, ‘Catholicity and holiness are also impaired when the Church fails to confront the causes of injustice and oppression which tear humanity apart or when it fails to hear the cries of those calling for sustenance, respect, peace and freedom’ (40). How then do ethical issues relate to ‘what constitutes ecclesial communion’? The description moves from the basics—apostolic faith according to the Scriptures and Creeds, and one baptism—to a rich statement of personal and corporate life: It is a life of shared concern for one another in mutual forbearance, submission, gentleness and love; in the placing of the interests of others above the interests of self; in making room for each other in the body of Christ; in solidarity with the poor and the powerless; and in the sharing of gifts both materials and spiritual (cf. Acts 2:44). Also constitutive of the life in communion is acceptance of the same basic moral values, the sharing of the same vision of humanity created in the image of God and recreated in Christ, and the common confession of the one hope in the final consummation of the Kingdom of God (45). Church as Communion, then, though not concerned to resolve differences, lays groundwork for further exploration of ethical issues. The final sub-section, ‘Communion Between Anglicans and Roman Catholics’, after noting the ordination of women as an emerging issue, continues: Another area which the Commission is currently engaged in studying is that of moral issues. Our distinct cultural inheritances have sometimes led us to treat of moral questions in different ways. Our study will explore the moral dimension of Christian life and seek to 101 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

explain and assess its significance for communion as well as the importance of agreement on particular moral questions (57). 5. Life in Christ: Morals,Communion and the Church (1994) Working on moral issues formed the initial agenda for a newly constituted Commission from 1991.1 The task had commenced earlier, with the co-secretaries and two members meeting in Oxford to draft an outline structured around the differences between Anglicans and Roman Catholics. This was circulated to consultants for comment, and considered at the 1990 Dublin ARCIC meeting: this offered an alternative structure, however, in which differences were placed later, after consideration of what was held in common. a) Paris 1991 The 1991 Paris meeting began with initial consideration of the Oxford and Dublin schemata. To open discussion between the mostly new Commission members, each tradition was asked to say how they perceived Christians in the other tradition were shaped in their moral life. The Roman Catholics said, ‘Anglicans hear the Ten Commandments at each eucharist’; the Anglicans noted that ‘Catholics are primarily shaped by the confessional’. Both responses drew some chuckles, showing how dated our perceptions can be—an important realisation. Further, issues related to sexuality touch each person individually: the Anglican members were all married (and one divorced), but none of the Roman Catholic members. Conversations outside of the formal meetings opened up important dimensions of reflection which would have been infelicitous in the group as a whole. Also, on a number of occasions the ethical issues related to the just-past 1991 Gulf War were raised—the wider world context cannot be shut out! Responses to the Oxford and Dublin drafts revolved around three main issues: i) A strong feeling was expressed by many that the Dublin approach was to be preferred. ii) A firmer theological grounding was sought, based in a trinitarian understanding of the imago Dei paired with a ‘new creation’

1 The co-chairs, co-secretaries, WCC observer and three continuing members were joined by four new Anglican and four new Roman Catholic members, plus consultants Brian Johnstone, Oliver O’Donovan (formerly a member) and Peter Baelz (who would draft Life in Christ). SHERLOCK Anglican-RC Dialogue on Ethics & Moral Theology 102 perspective: this drew debate on how ‘natural law’ was to be included. This ethos would come to shape the ethos of the document, typified in the Peter Baelz phrase, ‘the patterning power of the Kingdom’. iii) Several Anglican members insisted on the need to recognise that contraception and divorce must be seen as wider than personal issues. Issues such as these have strong social consequences in ‘third world’ contexts, and the social dimension of sin must not be forgotten. Considerable time was spent seeking to understand the specific responses of each tradition to divorce and re-marriage (and to a lesser extent, contraception). It became evident that seeking to respond to such issues in separation had shaped divergent approaches, notably the historical and socio-political circumstances of English history. Conversely, the sense of coherence which Roman Catholic members found in the symbol of global communion offered by the Bishop of Rome, alongside the varied approaches to moral theological method in the Roman Catholic tradition, impressed Anglican members. As well as the 1975 Joint Commission Report and 1987 Pastoral Guidelines noted above, two documents from North American dialogues proved to be helpful: ‘The Experience of Women in Ministry’ (ARC Canada 1983), and ‘Images of God: Reflections on Christian Anthropology’ (ARC-USA 1983). In sum, the 1991 meeting saw what became Section C of Life in Christ sketched out, Sections D and E commenced, and the ideas in Sections A and F affirmed. b) Windsor 19921 As work on Life in Christ continued, Commission members increasingly sought a more ‘relational’ than ‘juridical’ approach to moral issues: this would eventually lead to the ‘what sort of persons are we called to be?’ perspective, and agreement that we did indeed share a congruent ‘approach, context and values within which the subject ought to be considered’. On the historical side, detailed consideration of contraception and responses to marriage breakdown

1 As well as the main task, working on Life in Christ, the 1992 meeting came after the release of the Vatican’s official response to The Final Report, the CDF Letter, ‘Life in Communion’, both of which were discussed. As well, the impending ordination in the Church of England of women as priests, and the consequent letter from John Paul II to the Archbishop of Canterbury, saw this topic reviewed in an informal session. 103 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 led to a growing reticence to spell out all the detail in the Statement. It was agreed that the significance of divergent ecclesial histories must be recognised, but the Commission had not been asked to write a moral theology textbook. In sum, the 1992 meeting saw Section B added and Section E fleshed out, in the midst of reflection on other ecclesiological issues. From my Anglican perspective, the significant realisation was that, while both traditions employ casuistry, different relationships typically exist between moral norms and their application. For Roman Catholics, the approach is to define ideal norms—moral ‘canons’—and allow the exercise of pastoral prudence to be engaged in their application. Anglicans, on the other hand, typically seek to include prudential matters in their ethical decision-making: the 1998 Lambeth Resolution 1.10 on gay relationships is a good example—cf. Life in Christ, 52. c) Venice 1993 A revised draft of Life in Christ was considered in detail, along with continued reflection on the implications of divided histories. On the Roman Catholic side, the ‘history’ of moral theology was illuminating for Anglican members. Conversely, all members came to appreciate more clearly the doctrinal effect of the Church of England being ‘established’, and its various carry-overs to the colonies (cf. the diverse situations of the West Indies, India, USA, South Africa, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, China, etc.). Other important matters were considered at the meeting, most notably agreement to issue Clarifications,1 but consideration of the ordination of women was deferred in order to finish Life in Christ. One reason for the urgency was that Roman Catholic members had been apprised of a forthcoming encyclical on morals (Veritatis Splendor), though none were involved with its preparation. It was agreed that ARCIC should finish its work before this was published, so that Life in Christ could stand on its own. By the end of the meeting the full statement was able to be read aloud and voted on paragraph by paragraph, as had become ARCIC’s custom, and signed.

1 Clarifications on Certain Aspects of the Agreed Statements on Eucharist and Ministry of ARCIC together with a letter from Cardinal Edward Idris Cassidy, President, PCPCU (CTS/Church House, 1994). SHERLOCK Anglican-RC Dialogue on Ethics & Moral Theology 104 d) ‘Life in Christ’—some comments From an Anglican viewpoint, several issues come to mind regarding Life in Christ: • The desire to think in terms of the ‘new creation’, a prevailing tone in the Commission’s discussion, is coming into increasing prominence in the Anglican Communion. Such an approach can be seen in the structure of Life in Christ, placing ‘Shared Vision’, with its emphasis on hope, before ‘Common Heritage’. The emphasis falls on what it means for human existence to be made in the image of the triune God, called to participate in the divine life as ‘persons-in-communion’, under the ‘patterning power of the kingdom’. For myself, the most important sentence in the Statement is this: ‘The fundamental moral question, therefore, is not "What ought we to do?", but "What kind of persons are we called to become?’’’ (6). But this note would also seem to be whittled away as the document—inevitably—turns to focus on present realities, and continuing differences over ‘moral law’. This ‘eschatological’ viewpoint is a little stronger in the ARCIC’s The Gift of Authority , and opens into flower in Mary: Grace and Hope in Christ.1 • The discussion of marriage in Life in Christ includes careful reflection on ‘sacramentality’ (61-2). As is noted, The Book of Common Prayer (1662) teaches that ‘the state of matrimony’ had itself been ‘adorned and beautified’ by Christ’s presence at the marriage at Cana (62). Anglicans thus hold that each marriage— Christian or otherwise—is in some sense ‘sacramental’, reflecting the grace and love of God in creation and incarnation, and with Roman Catholics (and all Christians) affirm that marriage ‘in Christ’ signifies the unity between Christ and the Church. Thus ‘Anglicans tend to emphasise the breadth of God’s grace in creation, while Roman Catholics tend to emphasise the depth of God’s grace in Christ. These emphases should be seen as complementary. Ideally, they belong together’ (62). Put another way, Anglicans interpret Christ’s presence at Cana as blessing the state of marriage itself, rather than forming a precedent for the blessing of particular

1 See further Charles Sherlock, ‘The Journey—Anglican perspectives on Mary’, in D. Bolen & G. Cameron (eds.), Mary: Grace & Hope in Christ—Study Guide, (London: SPCK, 2006). 105 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

marriages. Thus it is possible that Anglicans are wary of saying marriage (for everyone) is a ‘sacrament’ (though not ‘of the gospel’), and Roman Catholics anxious to assert it (for baptised persons), for almost precisely the same reason—to protect Christian distinctives! • Of necessity Life in Christ comes to focus on ethical differences between Anglicans and Roman Catholics, viz. some areas of sexual morality. Reading only with this in mind, however, fails to appreciate the exploration of our ‘Shared Vision’ (4-11) and ‘Common Heritage’ (12-35), and the significant agreement reached in the midst of divergence, not only as regards divorce (64-77) and contraception (78-82)—the documented differences—but also over moral judgement and authority (36-63). The whole text is pervaded by the conviction that moral life in Christ is to be viewed through the motif of communion: the conclusions reached are grounded in the trinitarian-based notion of humans as ‘persons-in-communion’. And care is taken only to use the word ‘person’ when the individual-in-relationship is in view, and ‘individual’ otherwise (and the latter is much less common than the former). • The conclusion reached in Life in Christ is not one of ‘substantial agreement’, as in earlier ARCIC Statements, but has a ‘double negative’ character: were the Statement adopted, the differences which remain would not constitute a barrier to communion. This is a significant shift in ARCIC’s method, which has its weaknesses but may be relevant in other areas (cf. the treatment of the Marian dogmas in Mary: Grace and Hope in Christ, 63). • The area in which Life in Christ sees continuing study as especially needed is ‘of the differences between us, real or apparent, in our understanding and use of the notion of "law"‘ (102). This point, acknowledged a number of times in this paper, has deepened in the past 20 years, as Anglicans have come to diverge in practice regarding marriage after divorce, and now gay relationships, and as debate continues among Roman Catholics as to how moral ‘law’ is applied. Life in Christ was overshadowed by the issuing of Veritatis Splendor. ARC-USA made an incisive comparison between the two documents, drawing particular attention to the contrast between ARCIC’s question, ‘what sort of persons are we to become?’ (cf. 11), and that of SHERLOCK Anglican-RC Dialogue on Ethics & Moral Theology 106

Veritatis Splendor, ‘what ought we to do?’1 This analysis further reinforces the need to explore how ‘law’ functions to support ‘morals in communion’. One concluding observation is that the brief section in Life in Christ on homosexuality (87) would seem to have been ignored in Anglican debates over the last dozen years. The issue of how human nature and well-being is related to our gendered identity is so fundamental that only an ecumenical Christian approach can be sustained in the longer term—which presents both a significant challenge and opportunity for dialogues such as that offered by ARCIC III. 6. Moral theology and ARCIC since Life in Christ a) The Gift of Authority (1999) The communion-dividing issues around authority are less to do with its nature than its exercise. This is especially the case with the magisterium, in their calling to lead the people of God, and the relationship of this to the authority of Christians to live in obedience and freedom—expressed in the sensus fidelium. As such, The Gift of Authority contributes to ethics work in terms of how authority is exercised regarding moral issues, which are clearly of current relevance to the Commission. However, while paying careful attention to dogmatic concerns, the Statement does not address directly what weight in ethical matters the sensus fidelium may carry (cf. 29—and see 49 on conscience), nor what appropriate obedience may be called for by the ‘ministers of memory’ (cf. 30). In discussing Anglican structures, it is acknowledged that ‘Houses of Bishops exercise a distinctive and unique ministry in relation to matters of doctrine, worship and moral life’ (39, italics added). The catechetical teaching of the Roman Catholic Church on morals is well known, and the Bishop of Rome from time to time teaches in these areas through encyclicals (e.g. Humanae Vitae, Veritatis Splendor), but these are not addressed in the Statement.

1 ‘The Christian Ethics in the Ecumenical Dialogue: Anglican Roman Catholic International Commission II and Recent Papal Teaching’, Anglican-Roman Catholic Dialogue in the United States, 1995 (available at ).

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In short, while Life in Christ ends with a call for Anglican and Roman Catholic bishops to speak together on moral issues facing society, and Gift sheds considerable light on Christian authority and its exercise, further work is needed on how this applies to ethics/moral life. b) Mary: Grace and Hope in Christ (2005) Issues of moral theology are (perhaps not surprisingly) largely absent from this Statement. The example of Mary’s trust, obedience, holiness and stance for justice are however cited a number of times (cf. 11, 15-6, 20, 25, 30, 37, 51, 59, 64 and especially 74), and are intended to inspire readers to live ethically and so promote deepened communion in Christ. Yet it is the eschatological motif—in Life in Christ, the ‘patterning power of the Kingdom’—which in Mary: Grace and Hope in Christ becomes the ‘engine room’ and drives its theological method. By seeking to ‘do theology’ from the future backwards rather than just the past forwards, agreement was able to be made as to the substance of the two papal definitions which carry the authority of revelation for Roman Catholics (Mary, Section C). Such a ‘teleological’ approach may not readily resolve all the issues in discerning how the Spirit is guiding the people of God in living the ‘new creation’ now. Yet—at least from the perspective of the Anglican tradition—it is more likely to show promise of agreement about what constitutes authentic ‘morals in communion’ than a juridical or deontological one. And of crucial importance in this is finding agreement as regards the limits of ethical life in Christ in diverse social/political/cultural contexts, which in this global village world are often heaped on top of one another. 108

LANDSCAPES OF ECUMENISM: A VAST AND COMPLEX REALM

Robin Gibbons*

This article has a twofold aim. Firstly it examines in a personal reflection the interweaving of ecumenical activity to highlight the pastoral setting of grass roots ecumenism in ordinary life. In the personal realm doctrinal divisions are sometimes secondary to the common bonds of love and affection that we share, especially in family and friendship situations. Secondly it underscores the vision of VII decree on ecumenism putting the Christian community firmly on the road towards seeking that unity Christ desires, by engaging, sharing, and working together. Learning more about each other is an essential part of witness to the Church of Christ.

A personal start Trajectories of faith are complex and complicated. In any reflection on ecumenism and on what it means in any concrete situation, one takes account of the personal stories of those involved. Exchanges and meetings of faith are after all about people and the great inspirers of ecumenism did not write or lecture from a purely academic background: friendships, experiences, journeys, all mattered. My own journey to the point of this article passes through a number of different spiritual ‘landscapes’, all of which have influenced, and to a greater or lesser extent moulded me. The beginnings in the 1950s have their roots in a combination of Yorkshire and French based Catholicism with a very heady dose of Anglicanism on both sides of my family. As a child I was more than aware of a Catholic past: Ampleforth Benedictines, Jesuits in Leeds,

* Robin Gibbons is a Melkite Greek Catholic Priest and one of their British Chaplains. He was recently installed as the International and Ecumenical Canon for the Anglican Cathedral and Diocese of All Saints, Edmonton, Canada. A theologian and liturgist he teaches at Oxford and St Mary’s University College Twickenham and is a present writing a book about Eastern Christian perspectives on environmental issues. 109 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 the Passionists spread throughout the area, tales of the then IBVM community (now CJ) and Mary Ward’s influence at the Bar Convent, York. Men and women’s communities as well as the numerous priests known to my family, were a real presence in one way or another. So were the stories of northern Catholic martyrs like Margaret Clitherow, and the constant visual presence of those great ‘bare ruined choirs’ of the reformation story, Kirkstall Abbey Leeds, a familiar friend, so close to my childhood home, and Fountains, Rievaulx and other abbeys in the more remote countryside, these ruins intrigued and inspired me, even as a small child. There was also a wider continental flavour. My French grandmother’s influence and our French relatives gave a strong family connection with a Catholicism dominating a particular landscape of France, still alive, worshipping in ancient places and churches, visible in so many different aspects of life and of course the ever-present cult of saints like St John Vianney at Ars and Therese of Lisieux, with pilgrimages to places like Chartres, Vezelay, Lisieux, Lourdes. All this living Catholicism, different in degree and kind to my English experience moulded my own spiritual landscape, and I well remember my admiration for the local curé, Abbé Pelltier, who had been a missionary in Canada and lived out his last years as a real curé de campagne in the Jura, who we saw on our holidays going about his liturgical and pastoral work. It was (and still is) an interesting mix, but I also recognized my deep-rooted Anglican patrimony, a great grandfather who was a village rector in Yorkshire and whose influence was keenly felt through family reminiscences and stories. Then there were my father’s Anglican relatives, some like my grandfather and two uncles, talented church organists and devout believers. As a child and teenager on holidays in various parts of England, I often wandered into churches listening to Evensong or, with my paternal grandmother going to Saint Alphege, Solihull to listen to choral Eucharist, which I thought grander and more impressive than low Mass in the little Catholic Church down the road. It did not occur to me then that this act of taking part in a celebration other than my own Catholic ones, was in fact frowned on and in the past forbidden. I have a vague memory of an aunt talking about my parents wedding and the restrictions the Catholic Church placed on the style of liturgy for those who were ‘mixed marriage cases’, in this case Anglican and Roman Catholic. I suppose it struck GIBBONS Landscapes of Ecumenism 110 me as odd that my mother did not wear a wedding dress like others: now I find it rather sad, a relic of a world of unforgiving division. The story progresses through good, solid Catholic prep school education with the Sisters of the Cross and Passion in Moortown, Leeds instilling in me a firm and nascent love of the liturgy, then into Jesuit hands at St Michael’s, Leeds and Wimbledon College where, besides the great education received, I was introduced to Eastern Rite Jesuits adding another dimension and the beginnings of an interest in Orthodoxy. After school I joined the Benedictines at St Michael’s Abbey, Farnborough, a small community founded by Prinknash with an interesting ecumenical history of its own, which encouraged my fascination with things Anglican and Eastern. Theological and philosophical studies took place at the University of Kent with the Franciscans, and continued at Heythrop, University of London under Jesuit auspices, at a time of great shift in the 1970s, mixing with all Christian denominations and none, alongside a growing awareness of other faiths. Ordination took me into teaching, parish life and then helping in monasteries in the United States, where I met with many varieties of religious experience and widened my appreciation of the Eastern Church, both Catholic and Orthodox. We can fast forward to today where I work as a priest in a Greek- Catholic Melkite chaplaincy in GB, teach in a very ecumenical setting at Oxford, collaborate with the Religious of the Assumption sisters, whose influence and inspiration of practical ecumenism at Kensington, Hengrave and elsewhere over the past twenty years has been a conversion of subtle and deep-reaching perception and experience. My monastic journey continues in the work of Monos, the Christian organisation searching for forms of monastic presence in new settings: an enriching, ecumenical venture at the margins of many established communities. Thus we come to the Sitz im Leben, ecumenism today. One part of my work is living in a country village sharing the life of the community and worshipping with them when I can, to help bury the dead, share evening prayer, assist at marriages, harvest festivals, carols, compline and much more, in a setting quintessentially English and Anglican, but paradoxically robustly ecumenical. All this allows me a reflective insight into the practicalities and problems of ecumenism, but also of hope in an uncertain future. For the truth is that despite obstacles placed in their way by institutional demands, 111 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 people cross divides and work together. The simple truth is that we follow Christ, not ourselves. Landscapes of contrast To journey as a committed traveler in the ecumenical landscape is also to remain firm in the hope and conviction that somehow the richness of our Christian faith is important and that the diversity amongst those who follow Jesus Christ, apparently the result of much division and suffering, is not only part of God’s providence, but necessary. But it is absolutely crucial that despite any cold winds blowing from the hierarchy or institutions we belong to, the real truth of our journey in faith needs to be kept in the forefront of our vision. In 1986 Brother Roger of Taizé wrote: Christians today are living at a time when the vocation to universality, to ecumenicity, to catholicity, placed within them by the Gospel, can find unprecedented fulfillment … Will their hearts be big enough, their imaginations open enough, their love afire enough to respond to one of the main calls of the Gospel: to take the risk of reconciling themselves in every new day, and in this way to be a leaven of confident trust between nations and races, in the dough of the human family which, in order to survive, is aspiring to unity throughout the world.1 These words are sadly unfulfilled in the early twenty-first century, but they call us back to the raison d’être of what any committed Christian, particularly those belonging to or affiliated with ecumenical monastic communities, should be holding firm to as their vision in Christ! There seems to be confusion about the form and question of unity in some of our Christian communities, a desire to turn back and recreate a mythical and often uncompromising framework of faith and doctrine as a bulwark against the perceived enemies of faith. John Locke’s words ring true: ‘Every church is orthodox to itself: to others, erroneous or heretical’.2 This is not confined to any one group, whether traditional or progressive, and fortunately is not everywhere the case, but it is nevertheless an obstacle to development and alas shuts out the voice of the Holy Spirit.

1 From Brother Roger of Taizé, A Heart That Trusts, quoted in S. Laplane, 15 Days of Prayer with Br Roger of Taizé (New York: New City Press, 2006), 119. 2 John Locke (1689-92), A Letter concerning Toleration. GIBBONS Landscapes of Ecumenism 112

Those who surrender themselves to the Spirit of the living God do not focus their attention on their advances or their setbacks. They go forward as if walking along a narrow ridge, forgetting what lies behind … Living God’s today, that is the most important thing. Tomorrow will be another day.1 Brother Roger’s prophetic words echo a Gospel imperative, one which Christ teaches us through the mission he gave to the twelve: As you go, proclaim that the kingdom of heaven is close at hand. Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out devils. You received without charge, give without charge. Provide yourselves with no gold or silver, not even with a few coppers for your purses, with no haversack for your journey or spare tunic or footwear or a staff, for the workman deserves his keep.2 This call to mission means negotiating the landscapes of life, learning to cope with the challenges of difference and, in the context of ecumenism, having the courage to accept the condition of following Christ, not in the bureaucracy of institutional dialogue but by walking together step by step on a journey of discipleship: ‘If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross every day and follow me.’3 Nowhere in life should unity be confused with sameness, no one human being, no animal is exactly the same, cloning though scientifically achieved, certainly does not guarantee a spiritual or emotional alter ego. Within the Christian tradition there is a belief that we have a uniqueness as children of God and therefore acknowledge that though we can be united in essential things, to be different is good too! So why, in certain times and seasons of Church history, is there an insistence by groups and denominations on a rigid sameness in religious observance and non-essential doctrine? There is nothing so objectionable as the fanatical element in religion, be it the rubric police in Catholicism or Orthodoxy, looking up every detail of ceremonial to check things are being ‘done’ properly, and listening for what is imagined to be ‘heresy’ in the preaching of priests, or the puritanical zeal of religious fundamentalists, looking to rigid interpretations of Scripture as a means of checking the authenticity of forms of life. It was certainly not the way the Lord appears to behave

1 Laplane, 69. From Br Roger, His Love is a Fire (1990). 2 Matt. 10:5-10, also Luke 9:1-6. 3 Luke 9:23,24, also Matt. 10:38. 113 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 in the Gospel nor does he teach his disciples to act in these ways. For him there is a wider vision, the expansiveness of the Kingdom of Heaven open to all: ‘Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God still, and trust in me. There are many rooms in my Father’s house; if there were not I should have told you… If you know me, you know my Father too. From this moment you know him and have seen him.’1 This expansiveness reveals that there is a greater authority, that of his Father in heaven, who alone knows all things even the secrets of our hearts, but who entrusts us to the Son as our one true and just judge, and who, at the resurrection on the last day will hand over the Kingdom: ‘And when everything is subjected to him, then the Son himself will be subject in his turn to the One who subjected all things to him, so that God may be all in all.’2 This image of ‘all in all’ takes us out of the narrow confines of sectarianism to realize the potential vocation of integration and openness. Nevertheless we need to make sure we tread carefully and know what we are about. It is worth reminding ourselves that some of what we popularly consider to be ‘immutable’ teachings of the Christian community are in fact interpretations, seen through an hermeneutic of choice, the choice of those who make and interpret the rules. Unfortunately even in this era of accessible theological education, there is still a great ignorance amongst many church people, including the clergy, not only about scripture, deep history and origins but also the breadth of authentic Christian experience. We are perhaps fortunate that the strong arm of secular learning is forcing the Church to examine its theological methodologies more carefully and learn to draw from the insights of many other disciplines. We cannot exist in an academic or religious bubble cut off from the world in which we live, no matter how hard people might try. That form of insularity is the way of a cult shut in on itself; whereas the Church of Christ is not a cult but a community of disciples, the ‘people of God’,3 of all nations, races and peoples in which the prevailing motif is not exclusion, but inclusion: ‘All baptized in Christ, you have all clothed yourselves in Christ, and

1 John 14:1-2,7. 2 1 Cor. 15: 27-8. 3 See 1 Pet. 2:9-10. GIBBONS Landscapes of Ecumenism 114 there are no more distinctions between Jew and Greek, slave and free, male and female, but all of you are one in Christ Jesus.’1 The Lord’s own deep desire is that all should be one, but not as clones, rather as individuals united in God whose task it is to help the world realize that truth in Christ: ‘May they all be one. Father, may they be one in us, as you are in me and I am in you, so that the world may believe it was you who sent me.’2 That image expands the landscape of Christianity, changing the scenery from a narrow valley into rich and vibrant pastures where the pilgrim community is led by the love of the Holy Trinity. It also enlarges the themes of diversity and unity as being, not antithetical and opposed, but rather essential and compatible for love and being; the Oneness of God is only possible through the love and distinctiveness of the three persons of our Trinity. This is something we instinctively know, even if we do not yet fully understand it, and the landscape of our worship points towards it. This beautiful prayer from the Byzantine tradition allows us a glimpse : O Holy Lord who dwell on high and yet behold the things below; who look upon all creation with your all-encompassing eye: to You do we bow in spirit and in body, and to You do we pray, O Holy of Holies. Extend your invisible hand from your holy dwelling place and bless us all. If we have sinned, willfully or not, do You, being God, forgive us in your goodness and in your love for mankind, and give us all your good things from the earth and from above. For it behoves you to be merciful and save us, O Christ our God, and we send up glory to You, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, now and always and forever and ever. Amen.3 Rethinking the landscape In some ways the problem of Christianity in Europe and the USA relates to its skewed historical perspective. While it has some awareness of its links to the faith and culture of the non-western world, its particular preoccupation is with Reformation issues, and it still does not fully acknowledge its origins in the Middle East; nor has it in the past known much about a part of its own life, the breath of the second lung of Christianity, that of the ancient Eastern Church.

1 Gal. 3: 27-8. 2 John 17:21. 3 Prayer from Lauds at the end of the Aitesis. See J. Raya and Jose de Vinck, Byzantine Daily Worship (Allendale NJ: Alleluia Press, 3rd edn., 1996), 200. 115 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

This may be a huge generalisation, but large parts of western Christianity still appear to remain wedded to a quasi-imperialist position inherited from the historical institutionalisation of Christianity in particular societal structures, with its associated patterns of systematic thought. In this way, various forms of ‘western’ Christianity have assumed a primary and privileged place in the history and spiritual landscape of particular cultures. There have always been struggles against this monolithic imposition, attempts throughout the centuries to return to a simpler set-up. We can all sympathise with Erasmus when he wrote in his Enchiridion: The sum of religion is peace, which can only be when definitions are as few as possible, and opinion is left free on many subjects. Our present problems are said to be waiting for the next Œcumenical Council. Better let them wait till the veil is removed and we see God face to face.1 Whilst this was written in the sixteenth century it could well apply to many situations within the Christian community today. Despite the great strides made towards a better understanding of ecumenical outreach and dialogue between the Churches in the last fifty years, there remains a legacy of trite, ill-informed, ignorant and prejudiced perspectives. People tackle issues of human freedom and the right to religious belief in the political sphere, and the Churches are often the first to cry ‘foul’ when something unjust takes place, but when it comes to our own internal religious structures, all of our Churches are bad at rooting out deep seated prejudice against other Christians, let alone other faith communities. I will return to this theme later as it seems to me it has as much to do with the insecurity we feel in a rapidly changing world as it does with poor and inadequate formation. In his recent work A History of Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years, Professor Diarmuid McCulloch explores in an early section the Nestorian Christian Church that was apparently very successful in its missionary work during the first millennium, especially in dialogue with other faiths. This research gives an insight into a totally different approach to Christian thought and doctrine prevalent alongside others in this period, an approach which

1 Erasmus, Enchiridion quoted in E.F.H. Capey, Erasmus (London: Methuen &Co, 1906), 145. GIBBONS Landscapes of Ecumenism 116 nonetheless failed and has been largely ignored by the European Christian tradition.1 In an interview before the series was broadcast he is quoted saying something which I consider fundamentally important for future ecumenism. Professor MacCulloch hopes that A History of Christianity will give viewers an unprecedented sense of ‘the law of unintended consequences’: I think the message is that you must never read backwards from what there is now. There is an immense variety in the past—an apparently accidental or random quality. If people have faith, then they want to say that this is a pattern decided by God. I respect that point of view, but that is not how I see it. The message for me is diversity and the unexpected. Perhaps that hasn’t been pushed in previous attempts to describe Christianity on a large scale. 2 That insight, criticised as being a little too politically correct, seems to me to be an important historical corrective, ‘the past is another country, and they do things differently there’3, and yet the past (as in the lost stories) is also a fascinating reminder of how much richer and more diverse the story of Christianity has been than perhaps we recognise and a warning of what can happen when people seek to constrain it. It is also a wonderful recognition that we can acknowledge wholeheartedly the negative side of Christianity but also its positive side, we can ask forgiveness for the sins of the community throughout its history, it’s anti-Semitism, belligerence against those people who deviated from official teachings, suffered unjust persecution, but we can also rejoice in the communion of saints and the praise and worship of God and the great acts of loving service done towards others, we do not have to pretend that we are a perfect community, only one ‘called to be saints’ but we try to ‘be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect’ (Matt. 5:48). In a fascinating work, The Lost Story of Christianity, Philip Jenkins builds on this theme of loss and gain:

1 D. McCulloch, A History of Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years. (Oxford: Allen Lane, 2009). 2 From a BBC Press Office Interview, November 2009, A History of Christianity: 3 The opening words of L. P. Hartley’s 1953 novel, The Go-Between. 117 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

an awareness of the Christian past reminds us that through much of history, leading churches have framed the Christian message in the context of non-Greek and non-European intellectual traditions of Buddhism, Taoism, and Confucianism … far from being a daring innovation, the globalized character of modern Christianity is better seen as a resumption of an ancient reality.1 It is a salutary reminder that things could easily have been different: ‘If matters had developed differently, perhaps Christianity today would be thoroughly and “naturally” Asian and Nestorian, just as obviously and traditionally we think of it as Euro-American.’2 It is also a pointer to a deeper reality that there is no necessary coincidence between numerical superiority and a monopoly of the truth as some might think, for part of the story of a particular Church, the Nestorian, is that having succeeded in penetrating as far as China and establishing itself there, it then dies out. ‘Neither faith, nor piety nor scholarship nor ancient tradition served to keep the churches alive across most of their ancient homelands, a great extinction that should offer a sobering message to modern believers’;3 for the collapse and success of these communities was inextricably linked with secular politics. a factor that should make anyone hesitant about proving or disproving the validity of a faith community by virtue of its superior numbers as has sometimes been done, but also a warning to us in a Euro-American situation not to rest on our laurels, nor retreat into a ghetto-church mentality. One reason I suggest that a scholarly and truthful re-examining of deep history can prove helpful to ecumenism, is simply that it can show lessons from the past and remind us of differing and important viewpoints and bring about what we can call a rebirth of images in the landscape of Christian tradition. The great Lutheran liturgist and scripture scholar, Gordon W. Lathrop, has worked on rebirthing the images from the Bible and from worship and puts it succinctly: ‘A rebirth of images was there from the outset of the Christian movement: “the bread which I will give for the life of the world is my

1 P. Jenkins. The Lost History of Christianity (Oxford: Lion, 2009), 39. 2 Ibid. 28. 3 Ibid. GIBBONS Landscapes of Ecumenism 118 flesh” (John 6:51). Much of Christian history can be seen as continued work on the grammar of that primary rebirth.’1 This is to my mind crucial in an age when people have recourse to effective propaganda machines such as personal blogs which can give the impression of an authority they do not necessarily possess, but which are often an exercise in intense factionalism and lack of charity. A genuine case in point is the muddled debate about the term ‘hermeneutic of continuity’ featuring in a number of blogs, an approach so beloved by those who have a slightly restorationist approach to Roman Catholicism and the reforms of Vatican II. The problem is that much of it is disingenuous reductionism, attempts to read into issues points of view that need more serious and ‘neutral’ study. The use of the media can cause confusion and problems, especially for those of us committed to the ecumenical vision of the Council and the wider implications of the Liturgical Movement, but this is not the only case. We have only to look at the reemergence of Russian Orthodoxy as a dominant religious force where resurgent nationalism (Orthodoxy=Russian) brings its own delicate problems in various Slav lands and in émigré communities who had learnt to adapt to other customs. Then there is the debate about sexuality and ministry within the Episcopalian community, polarizing and hardening communities, so many different examples abound! How then can we work together, is there any point trying to seek any form of unity? Rebirthing the images in our landscape The answer surely must be an unequivocal ‘yes’ for a number of reasons, the first and the greatest being Christ! Commenting on 1 Corinthians 1:13, the Decree on Ecumenism, Unitatis redintegratio opens in this forthright manner: The restoration of unity among all Christians is one of the principal concerns of the Second Vatican Council. Christ the Lord founded one Church and one Church only. However, many Christian communions present themselves to men as the true inheritors of Jesus Christ; all indeed profess to be followers of the Lord but differ in mind and go their different ways, as if Christ Himself were divided. Such division

1 Gordon W.Lathrop, ‘A Rebirth of Images: On the Use of the Bible in Liturgy’, in Dwight W. Vogel (ed.), Primary Sources of Liturgical Theology (MN, Pueblo: Liturgical Press, 2000), 217. 119 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

openly contradicts the will of Christ, scandalizes the world, and damages the holy cause of preaching the Gospel to every creature. 1 The desire and will of the Lord himself must be our primary focus as well, a transformation of values and a willingness to look again and see his call in our everyday life now, not at some point in the future: may they be so completely one that the world will realize that it was you who sent me and that I have loved them as much as you loved me.2 This is also the work of the Holy and life-giving Spirit, whose work is to bring about change: ‘There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling; one Lord, one faith, one Baptism’.3 The context of this vocation is the world and discipleship within the community of Christ, which we call the Church. This is all well-rehearsed theology: the whole first chapter of Unitiatis redintegratio rings with this imagery and sense of calling, and this impulse was behind early initiatives in the ecumenical movement, particularly in the monastic world, and also provided the impetus behind many of the new communities of monasticism such as Iona, Taizé and Bose. This is all to the good, but outside of these particular spiritual landscapes in the wider ecclesial landscape there is definitely a slowing down of the hopes and visions of the past. Part of this might be explained and explored in the political and societal upheavals of our world, the demands of a materialist culture, the onslaught real and imagined against religion and the internal factions within Christianity itself. One could be forgiven for wondering just where the aggioramento of Pope John XIII has gone; has the Spirit been blown away by our anxieties and unease? But we have to try, we must make an effort to rebirth the ancient images anew, to be prepared for mistakes in the trying and refashioning, to encourage those men and women of prophetic vision. At the beginning of the second millennium of Christianity, the Abbess Hildegarde of Bingen was not afraid to stand up for her vision of Christian life, in which her essential view was of the world as ‘’, God’s creative and holistic work. She was a true, radical disciple of Christ able to express in new ways ancient truths; even when her preaching and teaching clashed with the perceived doctrinal

1 Unitatis redintegratio (Rome, 21 November 21 1964), Introduction. 2 John 17:21. 3 Eph. 4:4-5. GIBBONS Landscapes of Ecumenism 120 orthodoxies of the time, she at least kept on trying. It is saints such as Hildegarde that we need as guides for the perplexed today, radical Christians and seekers of truth able to speak to people in ways they can understand. One of her letters to a dispirited Abbot reminded him that we need to think from the viewpoint of where we are and not from a position of pious language and exclusive spirituality: ‘Remember that you are an earthly man and do not be so afraid, for God is not looking for too much of the heavenly in you.’ This is a necessary and practical reminder that we deal with ourselves and others as we are, not as we wish them to be. It is also a good working position when we engage in the activity of coming together with others!1 In pastures green In my own monastic, priestly and academic life, wide varieties of Christian experience have been part of my everyday existence and a great measure of respect for the gifts of different traditions has been one of the blessings of working with others. However in the last decade I have on a personal level noted the discrepancy between official pronouncements and actions of churches and the experience of life in the green pastures of the Lord, this is on many levels. Pastorally we face some serious issues which may yet prove to be the inspiration of the Holy Spirit in forcing us to work together in ways not yet envisaged. Political issues such as immigration, human rights, and financial matters, especially in Europe, all impinge on the ecclesial setting. Quite simply, all around us the Christian landscape is changing. At the grass roots level organized religion is not necessarily well understood and there are many who have never had any contact with a church at all. On the positive side, new communities of Christians have settled in different European countries and in Great Britain numbers of Christians from Eastern Europe help to enrich and enliven the home church communities. Eastern Christians now help to inform others as to the plight of Arab Christianity in the Middle East, as well as to their antiquity and plurality. ‘In a true spirit of ecumenical endeavour, the churches of the West must re-learn their theological approach, for in the smaller, often wounded and ancient

1 P. Rath, trans. Barbara Thompson, Benedictine Abbey of St. Hildegarde: Rüdesheim/Eibingen (Petersberg: Michael Imhof Verlag, 2003),10. 121 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 families of the East they will discover their Christian genealogy.’1 Their liturgical, spiritual and artistic traditions have begun to touch many, including those of little or no faith background. Those of us who work outside metropolitan areas in country districts know well that interdenominational sharing goes on gently— one might be Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican, Pentecostal or Methodist, but in a rural community you are first and foremost a Christian together with others. Despite all warnings to the contrary, in rural England for instance, the local Anglican priest is still a parson for all and the Church is not only a setting for Anglican worship but a place for the community; in these situations the ecumenical initiative is not so much doctrinal but a necessity of survival and witness. Here Christianity is very much a voluntary organization. I find my own life as a priest is greatly and deeply enriched by the opportunities I have to share in the prayer and pastoral work of other denominations. Interestingly, this does not blur boundaries but makes one appreciative of why people may remain Anglican, Catholic or whatever. Proximity to each other, helping each other creates bonds, so that in some way one can say with a degree of truth, that there is much we share. Divided we are still nevertheless the Communion of Saints. In an essay on ecclesiology, Francesca Murphy writes: Human history is not uniformly salvation history, but God does use human institutions and persons as agents of his salvific will … The Communion of Saints is, in one way, as ‘invisible’ as the eschatological, immaculate church, but in another way, the Saints are familiar figures: we have palpable evidence that these personages have emerged, by God’s will, in every Christian setting. John Paul II wrote that ‘the communion between our communities, even if still incomplete, is truly and solidly grounded in the full communion of the Saints … Those Saints come from all the Churches and ecclesial communities … When we speak of a common heritage, we must acknowledge as part of it … first and foremost this reality of holiness.’2

1 R. Gibbons, ‘Persecution and Ecumenism’, ch. 13 in F.A. Murphy and C. Asprey (eds.), Ecumenism Today: The Universal Church in the 21st Century (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2008), 219-20. 2 F.A. Murphy, 'De Lubac, Ratzinger and Von Balthasar: A Communal Adventure in Ecclesiology', ch. 3 in Ecumenism Today ..., 75. GIBBONS Landscapes of Ecumenism 122

This seems to me to be the first reality we need in our daily lives. True ecumenism needs to recognize those who are guides and exemplars who can bring to ordinary people the message of Christ, not in a heavy doctrinal way, but in the language of metaphor and symbol, on their level and partly on their terms. At many of our village funerals one can truly sense the Holy Spirit speaking to all who gather in memory of the particular person; words, hymns, tributes, the liturgy in church, at crematorium or graveside still speak powerfully. There is an essential goodness in people that can be brought out further by contact with those holy ones who have the courage to be prophets with others. As Murphy succinctly puts it: ‘By transgressing "Christian" boundaries, the saints show us the invisible church within the visible morass of mutually hostile "communions". Their God-given holiness is evidence for the faith that it is not our, but his, Church’.1 Those words are imperative for our future and our survival. To help underline the importance of this challenge a warning note needs to be sounded. In his story of Nestorian Christianity, Jenkins discerns a very salutary warning for us, based on lessons from the past; historic experience should teach a powerful lesson about the vulnerability of this faith—of any faith—and how transient it might be in any setting, Christians might point with confidence to the closing passage in the Gospel of Matthew in which Jesus promises his disciples he will be with them always, even until the end of the world. Yet that verse says nothing about the form of that continued presence … St Vincent (De Paul) recalled that Jesus promised that his church would last until the end of time, but never mentioned the words in Europe … At least as far as particular regions or continents are concerned, Christianity does not come with a warranty.2 If Christianity is to have a future in GB and Europe, it will not be as it once was and perhaps that is for those of us who live here the real journey of the Spirit, gradually stripping away accretions, reshaping our images, rediscovering past truths that may yet set us free. It is, as I hint, another way of ecumenism where the old boundaries will be crossed because separation cannot be a viable option, to carry on with our divisions is to fall. We need to relearn our past history in order to reconcile differences and learn new things and perhaps break a silence about the past, it is as Philip Jenkins suggest; two very different forms:

1 Ibid. 2 Jenkins, The Lost History..., 41. 123 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

Sometimes, indeed, nobody is speaking, but on other occasions, people are unable or unwilling to listen to what is being said … Christians have systematically forgotten or ignored so very much of their history that it is hardly surprising that they encounter only a deafening silence. Losing the ancient churches is one thing, but losing their memory and experience so utterly is a disaster scarcely less damaging. To break the silence we need to recover those memories, to restore that history. To borrow the title of one of Charles Olson’s great poems: the chain of memory is resurrection.1 In the end the practicalities of life will break down institutional silence on a number of issues. There are prophets amongst us, can we hear them or more importantly see them in action? It is in the effort of monastics such as Hildegarde and Thomas Merton, or in new communities or in new movements that the true history of deep Christianity can resurrect anew in our age. Br Roger again shows the dynamic of our pilgrim image: ‘For Christians, life is all beginnings; They stand at the genesis of situations; they are men or women of dawnings, of perpetual discoveries. They keep on waiting when there seems nothing to wait for’.2 This depends on the ecumenism of the heart, not the ecumenism of bureaucracy, it means that whatever we might think, God is greater than our divisions, we are not Christians to uphold a religion but to offer a communion with God, in Christ through the gift and action of the Holy Spirit. ‘When communion among Christians is life and not a theory, it radiates hope.’3

1 Jenkins, ibid. 262. 2 Laplane, 15 Days of Prayer... p.127, quoting Br Roger, And Your Deserts Shall Flower (1984). 3 Ibid. 126. 124

A HERMENEUTICS OF HISTORY FOR AN ECUMENICAL FUTURE

* JEFFREY GROS FSC

As the churches plan for the 2017 commemoration of the date used to mark the German Reformation of the sixteenth century, a new look at the traditional narratives of that era is in order. This paper will survey some interpretive principles developed in the ecumenical movement to help understand and reinterpret the Christian narrative for a reconciled future, using the 16th century as an example. The paper is presented as an invitation to ecclesiologists, the theologians of history, and the historians of Christianity and especially the sixteenth century.

The churches’, including Orthodox and Roman Catholic, embrace of the modern ecumenical movement has meant entering into an open narrative.1 The commitment to dialogue toward an open future narrative implicitly opens the churches to revision of their particular, identity forming narrative for themselves and a new master narrative

* Brother Jeffrey Gros ([email protected]) is Catholic Studies Scholar in Residence at Lewis University, Romeoville. Former Director of Faith and Order, National Council of Churches in the USA, Associate Director of Ecumenism, US Conference of Catholic Bishops. 1 For a description of open narrative approaches to tradition see Lieven Boeve, Interrupting Tradition (Louvain: Peeters Press, 2003), 85 ff. See also Vincent Miller, ‘History or Geography? Gadamer, Foucault and Theologies of Tradition,’ in Gary Macy, ed., Theology and the New Histories, (Maryknoll: Orbis Press, 1999), 56–88. Also the World Council text discussed below: A Treasure in Earthen Vessels: An Instrument for an Ecumenical Reflection on Hermeneutics, http://www.oikoumene.org/en/resources/documents/wcc- commissions/faith-and-order-commission/iv-interpretation-the-meaning-of- our-words-and-symbols/a-treasure-in-earthen-vessels-an-instrument-for-an- ecumenical-reflection-on-hermeneutics.html, 25, 33. See also Paul Avis, ‘The Hermeneutics of Unity,’ in Reshaping Ecumenical Theology: The Church Made Whole? (London: T&T Clark, 2010), 39–59; and S. Sinn, ‘Hermeneutics and Ecclesiology,’ in G. Mannion and L. Mudge, eds., The Routledge Companion to the Christian Church (London: Routledge, 2007), 567–93.

125 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 for the Christian community informed by the truth clarified by the dialogue. From early in the ecumenical movement, the need for a common narrative was identified: Practically, every church has its own distinctive picture of the Church’s journey through the centuries. Churches and church historians are therefore confronted with the question: How is the past to be seen as a common past? How are the different perspectives to blend together into a single perspective?1 Fifty years of this ecumenical dialogue has brought new insights, methods and theological perspectives for viewing the history of the Church. For all of the churches and for the theological community, the methodologies and results of the dialogues have produced a new set of interpretive issues.2 These can serve the church as we face the reception3 of the results, the reinterpretation of one another as churches: our confessional texts; our theological understandings of ourselves, of our partners and of the Church universal. There is a hesitation in the post-modern world to attempt a common narrative: Our fundamental life options and religious narratives are being confronted repeatedly with difference and otherness. They would appear to be nothing more than specific ways of dealing with life, society and reality as a whole. We have become conscious that our

1 Lukas Vischer, ed., Church History in an Ecumenical Perspective (Bern: Evangelische Arbeits stelle Oekumene Schweitz, 1982), 7. 2 Anton W.J.Houtepen, ‘The Faith of the Church Through the Ages: Ecumenism and Hermeneutics,’ Bulletin Centro Pro Unione 44 (1993): 3-15; Houtepen, ed., Ecumenism and Hermeneutics (Utrecht: Interuniversitr Institute voor Missiologie en Oecumenica, 1995); ‘Hermeneutics and Ecumenism: The Art of Understanding a Communicative God,’ in Peter Bouteneff & Dagmar Heller, eds., Interpreting Together (Geneva: World Council of Churches, 2001). 3 William G. Rusch, Ecumenical Reception: Its Challenge and Opportunity (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007). ‘Learning the Ways of Receptive Ecumenism—Formational and Catechetical Considerations,’ in Paul D. Murray, ed., Receptive Ecumenism and the Call to Catholic Learning Exploring a Way for Contemporary Ecumenism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), 149-59. GROS A Hermeneutics of History for an Ecumenical Future 126

narratives have historically evolved, are contextually embedded, and are the results of a multitude of accidently circumstances.1 However new, reconciling master narratives, losing none of the vital diversity with which the Holy Spirit has gifted the churches in their separation, recontextualize our story, and can deepen communion as we move into the future.2 However, as Charles Taylor asserts of our secular understanding of the modern: Our past is sedimented in our present, and we are doomed to misidentify ourselves, as long as we can’t do justice to where we come from. This is why the narrative is not an optional extra, why I believe that I have to tell a story here.3 The success of the theological dialogues in the World Council, the bilateral conversations and in official decisions placed before our churches have required the churches as institutions to develop new ecumenical tools to move from dialogue, to official evaluation, and on to decisions.4 This essay will lay out 1) the hermeneutical challenge as it has been encountered, especially in interpreting and responding to texts like the 1982 Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry, 2) the interpretive perspectives produced by the dialogues to approach this challenge, and finally, 3) the specific opportunities of reinterpreting history in light of a reconciling hermeneutic, illustrating with some issues raised by the rereading of the Reformation narratives.

1 Lieven Boeve, God Interrupts History: Theology in a Time of Upheaval (New York: Continuum, 2007), 2. In the context of the interreligious encounter, Boeve outlines the epistemological problems of constructing such a common narrative, and the importance of the dialogue partners’ grounding in the truth claims of his or her own community and narrative (p.44). Like experience, there is no unmediated history (p.71). See also Vischer, Church History, 10. 2 For an examples of ecumenical recontextualization and rereception methodology see Walter Kasper, ‘Introduction to the Theme of Catholic Hermeneutics of Dogmas of the First Vatican Council,’ in The Petrine Ministry: Catholics and Orthodox in Dialogue (New York: The Newman Press, 2006), 7-23. Also Karl Lehmann, Michael Root, William Rusch, eds., Justification by Faith: Do the Sixteenth-Century Condemnations Still Apply? (New York: Continuum, 1997). 3 Charles Taylor, A Secular Age (London: The Belkamp Press, 2007), 29. 4 Work on interpreting the ecumenical councils, for example, Vatican II provides some important resources: Ormond Rush, Still Interpreting Vatican II: Some Hermeneutical Principles (New York: Paulist Press, 2004). 127 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

I. The Interpretive Problem in Reception When the churches entered into ecumenical dialogue, the original members of the World Council in 1950 and the Roman Catholic Church in 1965, they laid out principles. Some of these are embodied in the so-called Toronto Statement, enhanced in the Faith and Order Christocentric methodology of 1952 and the Catholic Decree on Ecumenism, subsequently crystallized in the 1993 Directory for Principles and Norms of Ecumenism and the 1995 encyclical Ut Unum Sint. Decades of dialogues focused on ecumenical study of the church divisions incorporated in the confessional, magisterial texts of previously divided churches, produced amazingly positive results, unimaginable in 1950. The churches have before them ecumenical results for which there are few precedents in history. Therefore, the ecumenical priority has moved from the research task of dialogue to the theological institutional task of reception. This occurs at the level of theological and doctrinal evaluations, and is eventually oriented to ecclesial action and transformation of the lives of the churches together.1 Let me illustrate this new hermeneutical challenge by three examples involving the Catholic Church. 1. The Problem The dialogues moved along smoothly, presenting a plethora of reports to the churches, some requesting response or reaction, but all part of the patrimony which Pope John Paul II would call a ‘common heritage’ in his 1995 encyclical.2 In 1982 the Catholic Church was presented with two texts for evaluation, of a very different character calling for quite different responses. Both focused on similar themes: a) the Anglican Roman Catholic International Commission (ARCIC) Final Report and b) the World Council Faith and Order text Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry (BEM). The third process used for illustration here is the Lutheran, Catholic and Methodist decision to officially sign c) the Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification (JDDJ). Each of

1 John Hotchkin, ‘The Ecumenical Movement’s Third Stage’, Origins 25 (1995): 353-61. 2 John Paul, ‘Ut Unum Sint: On Commitment to Ecumenism’, Origins 25 (1995): 49-72. http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/john_paul_ii/encyclicals/documents/hf_jp -ii_enc_25051995_ut-unum-sint_en.html GROS A Hermeneutics of History for an Ecumenical Future 128 these illustrates new, maturing interpretive approaches of the Catholic Church to this early stage of ecumenical interpretation and reception.1 a) ARCIC I Final Report response When the decade and a half work of ARCIC I was ready to be sent to the churches for their evaluation in 1981, there was an extended delay in its simultaneous release by the two churches. Within the Roman Catholic leadership there were different points of view as to whether an ecumenical text could be released ecumenically, or whether it should be preceded by an evaluation by the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF). It was finally decided that the text would be released simultaneously by the two churches, which would each use their own evaluation processes. For the Catholic Church this would require a new process, since the last ecumenical text to be evaluated was the Council of Florence (1439). Bishops’ conferences were asked for their evaluations, the CDF provided some comment, and an official Catholic reply was readied by 1991. The 1982 CDF notes were helpful in informing ecumenically attuned bishops’ conferences in their reports, so that many of the reservations were clarified, enhancing the quality of the final official response of the Holy See.2 The content of the Catholic report was positive for the most part on the sections on Eucharist and Ministry, where consensus was claimed. It asked for clarifications which the Commission was able to make in due course. However, the rhetoric of the response and quality of theological drafting came under critique by many Catholic and ecumenical scholars. They felt it was not at the level of which the Roman Catholic Church was capable. This first attempt at reception of a bilateral text provided many learnings about what skills are needed, in church leadership, if principles of interpretation are to be consistent, competent and contribute to the unity of the Church. The tone of this response made many readers wonder whether it was the texts that were under

1 The post-modern context has produced both new challenges and new resources in facing reception, themes that will not be treated here. See, for example, Lambert Leijessen, ‘Oecuménisme, sacraments et postmodernité. Réflexions herméneutiques sur la réception du rapport BEM’, Questions Liturgiques, 81/2 (2000): 122-38. 2 William Purdy, The Search for Unity (London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1995), 219- 272. 129 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 evaluation, or the rituals of the other ecumenical partner or the partner church as a body. It was clear that persons familiar with the method and content of the dialogue, the partner church and the liturgical life of the other church are in a better position to evaluate ecumenical texts.1 This process demonstrated the need for a clearer understanding of the hermeneutics of ecumenical texts. b) WCC Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry response The response and reception process for this text was quite different because of the variety of the churches represented by theologians drafting this text, its proposal of mere convergence and not full agreement, and the attention that needed to be given to processes of reception, evaluating and decision making. The churches in many contexts, like the United States, came together to study the text and the process by which they would proceed in reception.2 Many worked together on its evaluation, at both diocesan and national levels. Again, for the Catholic Church, the bishops’ conferences were canvassed, and in some cases, like the United States the bishops’ conference response was informed by diocesan responses. Although the text became available in 1982 in the same time frame as ARCIC I, an official Catholic response was produced in 1987. Like the response to ARCIC, it was submitted by the Pontifical Council (then Secretariat) for Promoting Christian Unity (PCPCU) to the World Council, but formulated with the collaboration of the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith. This text did not present so many problems for the Catholic response, and some have considered its rhetoric and theological interpretations a bit more competent.3 This is because: a) the

1 Christopher Hill and Edward Yarnold SJ, Anglicans and Roman Catholics: The Search for Unity: The ARCIC documents and their reception (London: SPCK/CTS, 1994). 2 Jeffrey Gros, ed., The Search for Visible Unity (New York: Pilgrim Press, 1984); ‘Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry Conference,’ Midstream 25 (1986): 322-329; ‘Reception of the Ecumenical Movement in the Roman Catholic Church, with Special Reference to Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry,’ American Baptist Quarterly 8 (1988): 38-49; John A. Radano, ‘The Catholic Church and BEM, 1980-1989,’ Midstream 30 (1991): 139-156. 3 Max Thurian, ed., Churches Respond to BEM: Official Responses to the ‘Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry’ text, Volume VI (Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1988): 1-40. George Vandervelde, ‘Vatican Ecumenism at the GROS A Hermeneutics of History for an Ecumenical Future 130 discussion of ARCIC I created some ground rules in the Roman Curia, b) the text did not necessitate the same level of evaluation, since no full agreement was claimed, and c) the experience of PCPCU and CDF collaboration had created a greater climate of trust and common hermeneutical principles. In its history the CDF has been exploring texts for errors that might be detrimental to the Catholic faith. The new task put before it with the Council and the various tasks of ecumenical reception required quite different hermeneutical skills. While the response to BEM illustrates the problem, many of the churches faced similar difficulties, if ensconced in different hermeneutical principles and ecclesial cultures. The WCC report summarizing all of the responses in 1990, showed that many of the churches were uninformed by the previous Faith and Order work that stood behind BEM, like the 1963 text Scripture, Tradition and Traditions, and subsequent studies on hermeneutics; by the work of the bilateral; and by the ecumenical liturgical and sacramental renewal.1 Therefore the report suggests more work on sacramentality, hermeneutics and ecclesiolgy, all of which have been very productive in the World Council. Both of these texts demonstrated that a hermeneutics of symbols, rituals and practices was needed. It is also the thesis of this paper that these examples demonstrate the need for an ecumenical hermeneutic of history, to provide a common interpretive approach, not only to the sacramental and liturgical life and teachings on one another, but also to the identity-forming narrative by which our communities live. c) The Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification With the experience of the interpretive difficulties in these two processes, when the Catholic Church began to draft the Joint Declaration building on the German and US theological work of the 1980s on Justification2 and the Condemnations of the Reformation

Crossroads? The Vatican Approach to Differences with BEM,’ Gregorianum 69 (1988): 689-711. 1 Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry: Report 1982-1990 (Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1990). Thomas F Best; Tamara Grdzelidze, eds., BEM at 25: critical insights into a continuing legacy (Geneva: WCC Publications, 2007). 2 H. George Anderson, T. Austin Murphy, Joseph A. Burgess, eds., Justification by Faith (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1985). 131 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

Era,1 representatives of the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith were engaged early on in the process.2 The approach to reception, here, was to produce an officially approved common agreement, and not to have an evaluation of texts by entities within the churches external to the dialogues. In fact, this process proved to be more successful than ARCIC I, though on a very different theme. There was a minor glitch in the process toward the end in 1998 and 1999. This problem demonstrates the importance of a hermeneutics of each others’ texts and decision making process. When the Holy See issued its declaration of agreement to sign, by PCPCU’s Cardinal Edward Cassidy, it was accompanied by two other texts: 1) some clarifications necessary for Catholics to understand the text and 2) an interpretive press conference by Cardinal Cassidy helping to clarify the declaration and the clarifications.3 Some outlets produced only the first two texts, not differentiating between them. Others chose to neglect the Catholic hermeneutical principles outlined by Cardinal Cassidy, and to interpret the ‘yes’ as ambiguous, or even to select the clarifications as somehow more important than the declaration of the Holy See. However, a year’s negotiation, some careful and helpful back channel conversations among some Bavarian bishops, Lutheran and Catholic, made the signing possible with a clarifying Annex.4 For all of the care invested in this text and its celebration, the process demonstrates the need for a hermeneutics of one another’s process of reception.5

1 Karl Lehmann, Wolfhart Pannenberg, eds., The Condemnations of the Reformation Era, Do they Still Divide? (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1990). Five more volumes of this study exist in the German. See also A Treasure..., 28. 2 John Radano, Lutheran & Catholic Reconciliation on Justification (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009). 3 Cardinal Edward Cassidy, ‘Press Conference,’ 128-30, ‘Official Catholic Response: Declaration,’ 130, ‘Clarifications,’ 130-2, Origins 28 (1998). 4 Cardinal Edward Cassidy, Ishmael Noko, ‘Official Common Statement Regarding Joint Declaration on Justification,’ ‘Annex Statement,’ ‘Press Conference,’ 29 Origins (1999): 85-91. http://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/pontifical_councils/chrstuni/documents/ rc_pc_chrstuni_doc_31101999_cath-luth-annex_en.html 5 A Treasure..., 31. GROS A Hermeneutics of History for an Ecumenical Future 132

Many of the difficulties in German ecumenism of the last few years demonstrate the importance of the hermeneutics of churches as well as texts. Many German Lutherans, for example, saw in the JDDJ an ecclesial position they found unacceptable, even when the position to which they objected was not articulated in the text.1 Others found it impossible to understand how Catholics could celebrate a jubilee indulgence after the text, even though issues of indulgences and prayers for the dead are explicitly not covered in the text.2 2. The Challenges All of these processes show us the importance of providing hermeneutical principles that go beyond texts, biblical, confessional and ecumenical; to the hermeneutics of ritual, practices and institutions. Both ARCIC I and BEM demonstrate how the celebrations of baptism, Eucharist and ordination must be reevaluated in light of both theological dialogue, and liturgical reform. They illustrate the deep polemical pieties that continue a negative evaluation of one another’s churches even after theological and even liturgical polarizations are overcome. They illustrate that piety and practices as well as rituals and doctrinal formulations must be reassessed to serve the reconciling calling of the Church. Finally, they demonstrate the long and careful task of ‘healing of memories’, of creating a new hermeneutics of history to serve the reconciling call of Christians. II. Ecumenical Work on Hermeneutics All of the ecumenical dialogues are informed by a hermeneutics of reconciliation as well as other approaches, so a careful task of harvesting can assemble a set of principles used in the variety of dialogues. In this section, we will focus on one text, the World Council’s Treasure in Earthen Vessels of 1998. As the churches respond, for example, to the three illustrative examples above, the theologians and the pastoral ecumenists at the congregational or judicatory (diocese) level both provide input on the institutional response and begin further work to deepen bonds of

1 Richard Schenk, ‘The Unsettling German Discussion of Justification: Abiding Difference and Ecumenical Blessings,’ Dialog 44 (2005): 152-63. 2 Michael Root, ‘The Jubilee Indulgence and the Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification,’ Pro Ecclesia 9 (2000): 460-75. 133 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 communion to overcome unresolved issues. As Pope John Paul II challenged his own Church: While dialogue continues on new subjects or develops at deeper levels, a new task lies before us: that of receiving the results already achieved. These [dialogue texts] cannot remain the statements of bilateral commissions but must become a common heritage. For this to come about and for the bonds of communion to be thus strengthened, a serious examination needs to be made, which, by different ways and means and at various levels of responsibility, must involve the whole People of God. We are in fact dealing with issues which frequently are matters of faith, and these require universal consent, extending from the Bishops to the lay faithful, all of whom have received the anointing of the Holy Spirit. It is the same Spirit who assists the Magisterium and awakens the sensus fidei. Consequently, for the outcome of dialogue to be received, there is needed a broad and precise critical process which analyzes the results and rigorously tests their consistency with the Tradition of faith received from the Apostles and lived out in the community of believers gathered around the Bishop, their legitimate Pastor. This process, which must be carried forward with prudence and in a spirit of faith, will be assisted by the Holy Spirit. If it is to be successful, its results must be made known in appropriate ways by competent persons. Significant in this regard is the contribution which theologians and faculties of theology are called to make by exercising their charism in the Church. It is also clear that ecumenical commissions have very specific responsibilities and tasks in this regard. The whole process is followed and encouraged by the Bishops and the Holy See. The Church’s teaching authority is responsible for expressing a definitive judgment. In all this, it will be of great help methodologically to keep carefully in mind the distinction between the deposit of faith and the formulation in which it is expressed, as Pope John XXIII recommended in his opening address at the Second Vatican Council.1 (emphasis added) In response to the churches’ need for hermeneutical understanding of how to read the ecumenical text BEM, Faith and Order launched its hermeneutics study. However, in the process of discussion, it

1 John Paul II, On Commitment to Ecumenism: Ut unum sint, http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/john_paul_ii/encyclicals/documents/hf_jp -ii_enc_25051995_ut-unum-sint_en.html, 80, 81. GROS A Hermeneutics of History for an Ecumenical Future 134 encountered the necessity of 1) contextualizing the historical critical method so helpful in ecumenical work, but inadequate to take account of the emerging new contextual hermeneutical perspectives, on the one hand; or traditional interpretive approaches which were the presuppositions of many of the confessional texts, on the other; and 2) looking beyond the written texts to begin to examine interpretive approaches to rituals and practices of the churches. For the majority of Christians in their personal lives, their cultures, pieties and identity-loyalties are much stronger in their ecclesial formation than the official texts of their churches. New texts about the Eucharist may claim to reconcile differences over the Lord’s Supper, and put aside 16th century polemics. However, textual agreements do not clarify the ritual lives of one another at the Lord’s Table, and Christ’s presence in the celebration of other Christians. Liturgical reform may be a more important reconciling witness than textual precision. The World Council study proposes interpretive approaches to Scripture, noting in particular that ‘the historical-critical method needs to be combined with reading in critical interaction with experience, the experience both of individuals and communities.’1 It also goes on to develop perspectives on interpreting the Tradition and the individual ecclesial traditions, in a section entitled ‘Interpreting the Interpreters.’ These principles are significant, since many of the biblical and traditional church dividing issues have been placed in a new context by modern biblical, historical and dialogical studies. For example, in resolving the Pauline doctrine on justification for the JDDJ, both the use of Paul in the 16th century and current scholarship had to be taken into account, since the Catholic conciliar and Protestant confessional affirmations presumed hermeneutics of their period. Even though contemporary Pauline work, for instance on Law and Gospel and the evaluation of Judaism, has moved beyond the presuppositions shared by Lutherans and Catholics in the 16th century, the ecumenical hermeneutics had to address both.2 Likewise, in studying purgation and purgatory, the US Lutheran-Catholic

1 A Treasure..., 22. See Bouteneff, Heller, Interpreting Together. 2 David E. Aune, ed., Rereading Paul Together: Protestant and Catholic Perspectives on Justification (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2006). 135 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 dialogue had to provide an appendix On the Interpretation of Biblical Texts to clarify the variety of approaches to passages which were used to defend and critique these elements of Christian piety, practice and teaching through the centuries.1 The World Council text goes on to suggest the hermeneutics of sign, rituals and practices be taken as seriously in ecumenical work as that of texts: Traditions are transmitted orally as well as through written texts. Ecumenical hermeneutics—as every hermeneutical task—is therefore a dynamic process concerned not only with written sources but also with oral tradition. In addition to textual and oral tradition, meaning is conveyed through non-verbal symbols: Christian art and music, liturgical gestures or colours, icons, the creation and use of sacred space and time. Christian symbols or signs are important aspects of the way in which the various dialogue partners understand and communicate their faith. Ecumenical hermeneutics needs to be intentional about incorporating this rich, but also neglected, source material for interpretation, communication and reception.... Even when there is a basis for theological convergence on the meaning of, e.g. baptism or eucharist, attention needs to be given to the practices surrounding these rites in particular ecclesial communities. Here as elsewhere, hermeneutical reflection can serve as an aid in the process of recognizing the same faith underlying different practices.2 A good example of the hermeneutics of symbols and practices is the hermeneutics of sacraments. The Catholic Vatican Council II made a significant shift from a juridical to a theological and ecumenical interpretive perspective. Such attitudes change only gradually, even given the interpretive principles outlined by the Council and subsequent documents. Joseph Ratzinger as a private theologian notes, even where we do not yet recognize the full Eucharist mystery in one another’s celebrations, we interpret the sacraments of others as means of grace: I count among the most important results of the ecumenical dialogues the insight that the issue of the eucharist cannot be narrowed to the problem of ‘validity.’ Even a theology oriented to the concept of

1 Lutheran-Catholic Dialogue, The Hope of Eternal Life http://old.usccb.org/seia/lutheran.shtml, 80. Lowell Almen, Richrd Sklba, Hope of Eternal Life: Lutherans and Catholics in Dialogue XI (Minneapolis, Lutheran University Press, 2011), 130-2. 2 A Treasure..., 35. GROS A Hermeneutics of History for an Ecumenical Future 136

succession, such as that which holds in the Catholic and in the Orthodox church, need not in any way deny the salvation-granting presence of the Lord in a Lutheran Lord’s Supper.1 Similarly, churches that once defined the Catholic Mass as blasphemy and idolatry have revised their interpretations with the help of common liturgical renewal and face to face dialogue.2 The WCC text goes on to develop the role of the community in ecclesial discernment and interpretation, including authority and reception.3 These themes deserve expansion and exemplification in ecumenical work, but will not be the focus here. III. Toward a Hermeneutics of History In addition to the hermeneutics of texts: biblical and confessional; rituals and practices; the ecumenical movement also proposes the healing of memories, a hermeneutics of history oriented to building the bonds of communion. In this section we note: 1) the challenges, 2) several texts with proposals, and 3) orientations toward further research, singling out the 16th century as an example. 1. The Challenges in the Hermeneutics of History The challenges to an ecumenical understanding of history include a) the inherently perspectival, often confessional presuppositions of the professional historian, b) iconic narratives deeply etched in Christian piety, and c) the specialized, often fragmented character of the dialogues’ contribution to rereading history. a. All History is ‘Confessional’ Each narrative, no matter how carefully grounded in research on the data, emerges from the questions brought to the data by the historian, the cultural environment of both the witnesses and archivists, and the cultural formation of the historian; as well as the narrator’s decisions regarding the form to be given to the events, and the sequence and

1 Quoted in the US Lutheran-Catholic dialogue, The Church as Koinonia of Salvation: Its Structures and Ministries. http://old.usccb.org/seia/koinonia.shtml, 107. 2 Jeffrey Gros, ‘The Roman Catholic View,’ in Gordon Smith, ed., The Lord’s Supper: Five Views (Downers Grove: Intervarsity Press Academic, 2008): 13-30. 3 A Treasure..., 54-66. 137 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 periodization selected.1 As we look at the Reformation, for example, the great mass of research is driven by traditions that see their own heritage there, whether it be one of the Protestant traditions or various strains of Catholicism. Even the more secularist oriented approaches clearly bring a perspective, selectivity and integrative ideology to the synthetic narrative.2 As one historian of the period reminds us: Despite their endeavours to break free, even modern historians remain to some extent the prisoners of their educational, social, and ecclesiastical environments. While rejoicing in the new wave of ecumenism, we do not believe ourselves capable of the superhuman detachment from the opposed confessional ideals. …Yet at no stage can we afford to relax our steady determination to see both sides and assimilate ‘new’ evidence however much it may conflict with our former judgements and prejudices. Such vigilance remains, for us and for every other historian of the Reformation, a heart-searching struggle which produces many losers and no outright winners.3 (emphasis added)

1 See Paul Ricoeur, Memory, History, Forgetting (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2004), 135. 2 For example, Diarmaid MacCulloch, The Reformation: A History (New York: Penguin Putnam inc., 2004). For a discussion of the importance of outsiders’ contributions see Vischer, Church History, 109 3 A.G.Dickens, J.M.Tonkin, and K.Powell, The Reformation in Historical Thought (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1985), 4. An historian of theology puts it thus: ‘history may tend to be less about "what happened in the past" and much more about how historians explain and justify the present cultural location of their own society or group.’ Macy in Theology and the New Histories, vii. See Vischer, Church History, 106, notes 10, 11 and notes 37 below. For an account of Catholic hermeneutical developments see Hubert Jedin, ‘Catholic Reformation or Counter-Reformation,’ in David Luebke, ed., The Counter-Reformation: The Essential Readings (Oxford: Blackwell Publishers, 1999): 19–46, John W. O'Malley, Trent and all that : renaming Catholicism in the early modern era (Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 2000). For another account of Reformation influences see Carter Lindberg, The Reformation Theologians (Oxford: Blackwell Publishers, 2002), 381. GROS A Hermeneutics of History for an Ecumenical Future 138

The enlightenment era concerns about national identity produced a rich harvest of socially oriented historical research, but to quite a different end!1 Collaborative writing of history is a helpful ecumenical strategy in face of this admonition: 1) The individual historians may process the data, but 2) the interpretations and 3) the coherent narrative can then be developed by a dialogue team of historians, much in the manner that convergence texts are produced on systematic themes. There are no objective outsiders to human history.2 b. Iconic Status of Historical Events, Persons and Symbols Certain moments in the history of the churches have taken on the character of identity markers, sedimented in the collective memory in such a way that mere historical-critical research or even common accounts will not easily transform these into reconcilable moments.3 The differences over the 4th century adaptation to a new imperial situation is one such moment, which functions in Orthodoxy, Catholicism and magisterial as a moment of maturity, creedal consolidation, missionary outreach and ecclesiastical stabilization, on the one hand. For Anabaptists, and some Pentecostals and Evangelicals, on the other, it signifies the ‘Constantinian Fall’ of the Church.4 Other such moments are the 5th century Christological divisions; the 10th through 13th century alienation of Byzantine East from Latin West; in the United States, the emergence of the African American churches from slavery, and the

1 See, for example, Thomas Brady, ‘From Sacral Community to the Common Man: Reflections on German Reformation Studies,’ and ‘Some Peculiarities of German Histories in the Early Modern Era,’ in Communities, Politics and Reformation in Early Modern Europe (Leiden: Brill, 1998), 335-52, 407-30, citing a 1793 Fichte acclimation during the height of the French Revolution! ‘O Jesus and Luther, holy patron saints of liberty who in your time of humiliation seized and with titanic power smashed the chains of humanity,… look down now from your heights upon your descendents, and rejoice in the sprouting grains now waving in the wind.’ 358. 2 See Boeve, Interrupting Tradition, 93. 3 As has become clear to the theologian: ‘empirical claims, even if fully warranted, are not sufficient … to warrant theological recommendations.’ Terrance Tilley, ‘Practicing History, Practicing Theology,’ in Macy, Theology and the New Histories, 10. 4 S. Mark Heim, ed., Faith to Creed, (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1991). 139 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 restorationist churches from the frontier revivals;1 and, of course, the Reformations of the 16th century.2 A dialogue on eschatology, penitential practices or a critical history of purgation and indulgences in the Christian heritage will not dispel the role that the iconic moment of Luther’s posting of the 95 theses in 1517 carries for Protestants, especially Lutherans.3 The ‘consigning to oblivion’ of the anathemas of 1054 or the apologies for the atrocities of the 4th Crusade (1204) are only the beginning of healing these painful and iconic memories between churches of the Byzantine and Latin traditions. Councils often carry an iconic role in Catholicism that goes well beyond their content critically considered. For example, the liturgical innovations of the Council of Trent, though they took 300 years to be received in sectors of the Catholic Church, are seen as somehow normative for all time by some. The variety of interpretations given to Vatican I, both by Catholics and critics of the Church, indicate that the image more than the critical content of the Council text, functions symbolically.4 The symbolic role of history is as important for ecumenical reconciliation as technical doctrinal and confessional agreement. c. The Fragmented Character of History in the Dialogues Almost all of the dialogues include biblical, historical and systematic components, some quite extensive, as with the US Lutheran Catholic

1 Jeffrey Gros, ‘Faith on the Frontier: Apostolicity and the American Born Churches,’ One in Christ 39 (2004): 28-48. Ted Campbell, Ann Riggs, Gilbert Stafford, eds., Ancient Faith and American Born Churches (New York: Paulist Press, 2006). 2 See, for example, James Payton, Getting the Reformation Wrong: Correcting Some Misunderstandings (Downers Grove: Inter-Varsity Press, 2010). Geoffrey Wainwright, Is the Reformation Over? Père Marquette Theology Lecture (Milwaukee: Marquette University Press, 2000). Mark Noll, Carolyn Nystrom, Is The Reformation Over? An Evangelical Assessment of Contemporary Roman Catholicism (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2005). 3 See, for example, Erwin Isherloh, The Theses Were Not Posted: Luther Between Reform and Reformation (Boston: Beacon Press, 1966). 4 James Puglisi, ed., How Can the Petrine Ministry Be a Service to the Unity of the Universal Church? (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010). Kasper, The Petrine Ministry. Mark E. Powell, Papal Infallibility: A Protestant Evaluation of an Ecumenical Issue (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009). GROS A Hermeneutics of History for an Ecumenical Future 140 recent rounds.1 However, treating particular themes, like apostolicity,2 soteriology,3 or the sacraments may resolve or begin the reconciliation of divergent doctrinal themes, but they do not help the ordinary Christian or, often, the professional historian for that matter, weave a new self identifying narrative, even on microhistorical interpretations of the Wittenberg or Canterbury ordinations, the Marburg Colloquy, the indulgence controversies, or the Tridentine debates. There are some syntheses of the dialogue, harvesting the results of half century of common work.4 However, a narrative synthesis on the microhistorical level, touching the history of a particular theme like authority or baptism is a challenge for the future. Or a macrohistorical harvesting of the East–West and Reformation dialogue insights that would entail reformulating the historical narrative of 2,000 years in such a way as to contribute to the healing of memories, has yet to occur. A master narrative, in a post-modern historiographic context,

1 http://old.usccb.org/seia/koinonia.shtml, and with further material in background supporting essays: Randall Lee, Jeffrey Gros, eds., The Church as Koinonia of Salvation: Its Structures and Ministries (Washington/Chicago: US Conference of Catholic Bishops/Augsburg-Fortress, 2005). 2 George Tavard, A Review of Anglican Orders: The Problem and the Solution (Collegeville: The Liturgical Press, 1990). Lutheran-Roman Catholic Commission on Unity, The Apostolicity of the Church (Minneapolis: Lutheran University Press, 2006). John Burkhard, Apostolicity Then and Now: An Ecumenical Church in a Postmodern World (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2004). Christopher Hill, Edward Yarnold, eds., Anglican Orders: The Documents in the Debate (Norwich: Canterbury Press, 1997). 3 Martien Brinkman, Justification in Ecumenical Dialogue: Central Aspects of Christian Soteriology in Debate (Utrecht: Interuniversity Institute for Missiology and Ecumenical Research, 1996). Vali-Matti Karkkainen, One with God: Salvation As Deification and Justification (Collegeville: The Liturgical Press, 2004). 4 Walter Kasper, Harvesting the Fruits: Basic Aspects of Christian Faith in Ecumenical Dialogue (New York: Continuum, 2009). The Lutheran-Catholic Quest for Visible Unity: Harvesting Thirty Years of Dialogue (Chicago/Washington: Evangelical Lutheran Church in America/United States Catholic Conference, 1998). Journey in Faith: Forty Years of Reformed-Catholic Dialogue: 1965-2005 (Washington: US Conference of Catholic Bishops, 2004). Thirty Years of Mission and Witness: United Methodist Roman Catholic Dialogue (Washington/Nashville: United States Catholic Conference/United Methodist Commission on Christian Unity and Interreligious Concerns, 2001). 141 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 will not lose any of the positive particularity of the diverse Christian traditions, but will incorporate them into a common affirmation of the Tradition of the Gospel.1 2. Four Texts Illustrating the Hermeneutics of History In addition to the general text on hermeneutics from the World Council, four dialogues have made specific suggestions: a) Reformed- Catholic proposals for rereading the Reformation together; b) US National Council proposals for writing history; and c) two texts emanating from Mennonite dialogues with, respectively, Lutherans and Catholics, and devoted to the healing of memories. a. Rewriting Reformation History Together The 1989 Towards a Common Understanding of the Church from the World Alliance of Reformed Churches-Catholic Dialogue includes a section ‘Toward a Reconciling of Memories,’ which concludes: We need to set ourselves more diligently, however, to the task of reconciling these memories, by writing together the story of what happened in the sixteenth century, with attention not only to the clash of convictions over doctrine and church order, but with attention also as to how in the aftermath our two churches articulated their respective understandings into institutions, culture and the daily lives of believers. But, above all, for the ways in which our divisions have caused a scandal, and been an obstacle to the preaching of the Gospel, we need to ask forgiveness of Christ and of each other (63).2 After treating themes of common witness, the visibility of the Church, and common confession, the text proposes the following conclusion, which makes a substantive challenge and contribution to the methodology appropriate for the hermeneutics of history as applied to the Reformation: a) … serious historical research needs to be jointly undertaken. b) We must tackle the problem of the condemnations that the Roman Catholic Church and the Reformed Churches pronounced against each

1 It is the thesis of this author that Jarosalv Pelikan’s, The Christian Tradition: A History of the Development of Doctrine, Vols. I - V (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1975-89) attempts such a narrative from the standpoint of the history of theology, doctrine and dogma. 2 http://www.prounione.urbe.it/dia-int/r-rc/doc/e_r-rc_2-1.html 1.4. GROS A Hermeneutics of History for an Ecumenical Future 142

other.1 c) Particular attention should be paid to the way in which confessional separation was brought to the Americas, Africa, Asia and Oceania. Churches in these areas had no part in originating the separation… A careful historical analysis might well bring to light new factors of separation which have been added to the inherited confessional differences (156).2 b. Some Principles for Rewriting History In 1991 the Faith and Order Commission of the US National Council of Churches published the results of a long-range study, Telling the Churches’ Stories: Ecumenical Perspectives on Writing Christian History.3 The study outlines five categories to be taken into account in ecumenical history writing: universality, context, commonality, particularity and perspective. It suggests fourteen principles to historians wishing to write history ecumenically. The study has a very simple thesis: ‘every group should tell its own story, and that all must listen to that story in an empathetic yet informed manner.’4 In a way this work corresponds to the early Faith and Order ‘comparative ecclesiology,’ which is necessary before a more ‘Christocentric,’ master narrative can be constructed. By eliciting two outside respondents, a historian and an ecumenist,5 as well as four case studies from 4th, 16th, 19th and 20th centuries, the study demonstrates its intention to contribute ‘as one voice in an ongoing

1 It can be noted that significant study has been done in the German anathemas project: Lehmann, Pannenberg, The Condemnations, and in some of the particular dialogues reassessing sixteenth century condemnations, for example Christian Reformed Church, Report of the Interchurch Relations Committee Clarifying the Official Doctrine of the Roman Catholic Church Concerning the Mass (Grand Rapids: Synod Report, 2002). 2 http://www.prounione.urbe.it/dia-int/r-rc/doc/e_r-rc_2-4.html#a43 4.3. See A Treasure..., 42. 3 Timothy J. Wengert and Charles W. Brockwell, jr., eds., Telling the Churches’ Stories: Ecumenical Perspectives on Writing Christian History (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1995). See Vischer, Church History, 12, 13. 4 Douglas Foster, ‘The Historiography of Christianity in Ecumenical Perspective: A Bibliographical Essay,’ in Wengert, Brockwell, Telling the Churches’ Stories, 129. 5 Richard Norris, ‘The Fourteen Canons: Some Sidelong Critical Notes,’ Günther Gassmann, ‘The Global Context of Ecumenical History,’ ibid. 21– 54. 143 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 dialogue—as hypotheses, even as questions … whose usefulness can be determined only by answers gained through application.’1 c. Two Texts that Model the Reconciliation of Memories When I teach the Reformation, I begin with the 2010 Repentance and Reconciliation ritual celebrated by the leaders of the Lutheran World Federation and the Mennonite World Conference, with foot washing pail and servant towel in hand, symbolically reversing the 500 years of alienation and persecution which had characterized the relationship since the 16th century.2 This service and the extensive historical text that lies behind it, is a disciplined exercise in retelling a historically divisive narrative of a relationship and set of sad events in such a way as to serve the healing and reconciling of two peoples. This hermeneutical enterprise can serve as a model for the churches as they try to develop new, healing narratives of their divided pasts. The Catholic Mennonite text, ‘Healing of Memories’ of 2003 takes up a similar theme, though in less detail.3 Both of these texts begin the task outlined by the Reformed-Catholic dialogue and for which principles were formulated in the US Faith and Order conversation. They can provide a model for all of the churches who root their alienation in the 16th century. Historians can begin the process of reconstructing a common, reconciling master narrative, which will not mute the gifts of the micronarratives, but will, in Christ, bring them into a coherent story in witness to the Holy Spirit’s action in that tumultuous century. 3. Proposals for Research on the Eve of 2017 In this final section, I set two challenges before the ecumenical community as we serve the churches in the common reading of the 16th century history: a) synthesis of historical elements in the dialogue results and, b) enlisting historical specialists in the common project. a. Synthesis of Historical Work from the Dialogues Studies focused on particular challenges, like the papacy or justification, the role of scriptural interpretation or the institutional

1 Thomas Finger, ‘Reflections on an Ecumenical-Historical Perspective,’ ib. 110. 2 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VYMK14ATxNU. Healing Memories: Reconciling in Christ, Report of the Lutheran-Mennonite International Study Commission, http://www.mwc-cmm.org/en15/files/OEA-Lutheran- Mennonites-web-EN.pdf. See A Treasure..., 29. 3 http://www.prounione.urbe.it/dia-int/mn-rc/e_mn-rc-info.html GROS A Hermeneutics of History for an Ecumenical Future 144 arrangement of the church and its role in society, can all now be focused on building a new healing narrative, both to identify where the old polemics are no longer appropriate, and where there are still painful memories to be healed. These studies can take the form of looking at particular periods, like the 4th, 11th, and 16th centuries and their continuities and discontinuities, the positive Christian intents and shortcomings on both sides of the divisions, and the influence of new understandings and new theological agreements on the interpretations we can now give to the persons and tragic events of those turbulent decades. They may also shed light on hitherto unrecognised, unhealed areas of polemic. b. Enlisting Specialists This paper is programmatic, and does not propose resolution to the problems and issues it raises. However, as we approach together the commemoration of a half millennium of alienation among Western Christians, we can call forth our professional historians with an ecclesial vocation to devote these next few years to collaborative ecumenical scholarship that will synthesize, in common narratives, the progress achieved until now.1 Such studies can be produced on the technical, the professional level for pastors and educators grounded in common criteria,2 and in popular versions to inform our congregations on how we may see our fragmented past in service to a reconciling future. Individual scholars can be invited to cross confessional lines in exploring the implications of ecumenical agreements on interpretation of texts once seen as divisive and polemical. We have a rich stable of Catholic scholars on Luther, Calvin, Anabaptist and the Church of England, not to mention those who follow Pentecostal, Methodist and Baptist developments. Protestants who study Trent and Vatican I bring useful, irenic and helpfully critical insights to the rereading and rereception that will be necessary for a common

1 Jeffrey Gros, ‘Interpretation, History and the Ecumenical Movements,’ Ecumenical Trends 16 (1987). ‘Toward a Reconciliation of Memory: Seeking a Truly Catholic Hermeneutics of History,’ Journal of Latino/Hispanic Theology 7 (1999): 56-75. See also Margaret O’Gara, ‘"Seeing in a New Light": From Remembering to Reforming in Ecumenical Dialogue,’ The Jurist 71 (2001): 59– 76. 2 Vischer, Church History, 109. 145 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 account to develop, and eventual common recognition of one another’s histories as our common Christian patrimony.1 The culture of Western research is notoriously individualistic and even competitive, but the marvelous results of bilateral theological dialogue witness to the power of collaborative scholarship. Similar developments in the historical enterprise, as witnessed especially in the Mennonite dialogues with Lutherans and with Catholics can be models for a wider range of Reformation historians working together to tell again, in a reconciling perspective, that narrative which is so formative in the Christian identity of so many Western believers.

*** The texts mentioned in the course of this study all present methodological tools and historical-theological results which are resources for constructing a new reconciling, but differentiated narrative of Christian history.2 Hopefully the years leading up to our commemoration of the fragmentation of the Western Church will provide opportunities for historians to serve this new vision.3

1 Finger, ‘Reflections’, 115. 2 See Boeve, Interrupting Tradition, 68. 3 ‘As a practitioner of a tradition, one is engaged in the constant correction of understanding and application,’ Miller, ‘History or Geography?’ in Macy, Theology and the New Histories: 77. 146

REPORTS & EVENTS

ASSISI 2012. WHERE WE DWELL IN COMMON: PATHWAYS FOR † DIALOGUE IN THE 21ST CENTURY

Gerard Mannion*

At a moment when dialogue within and between churches and faiths, and between faith communities and the wider world in which they live out their faith has been described as being in a state of impasse and decline for some time, sources of hope and transformation of such a status quo are much needed. Many readers of this journal will be all too familiar with the fallout from the ecumenical winter that descended in the 1980s and has continued to blight the lives of churches since. But the strained relations across differing faiths widens the imperative for ecumenism to be reenergised and its outreach both expanded and applied within particular churches and faith communities, as the tensions and divisions within particular Christian traditions in recent years make all too evident. Do the hope, will and energy exist to reignite the ecumenical and interfaith dialogical flame for our century? A very special gathering which took place on 17-20 April, 2012 in Assisi, Italy, demonstrates that it clearly does. Assisi 2012 drew together over 250 participants from around the globe (from 55 different countries) and from many different churches and faith communities to explore the theme of dialogue from the perspectives of past, present and future. The overall aim of the gathering was to discern new ways, means and methods of advancing the dialogical cause with renewed energy for a new century. It was intended to be not so much a conference, convention, nor an event as such but rather the beginning of a process—indeed a series of ongoing

† The contributions of Cavazos-González, Hughson and Percy in this issue of ONE IN CHRIST originated in papers given at Assisi. * Gerard Mannion is Director of the Frances G. Harpst Center for Catholic Thought and Culture and Professor of Theology and Religious Studies at the University of San Diego.

147 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 processes. It sought to identify, share and shape, as well as to put into practice, productive pathways for dialogue for these times. Our gathering was graciously opened by Archbishop Domenico Sorrentino, the local ordinary, in the Basilica of Santa Maria degli Angeli. At our host venue of Domus Pacis, in the shadow of the Franciscan Order’s mother house, Paul Arthur, Professor of Peace Studies Emeritus at the University of Ulster and veteran of conflict resolution initiatives around the globe, then sought to share some lessons from building peace processes that ecumenical and inter-faith dialogue might learn. Our gathering also featured a reflection on the ‘ten commandments’ of Franciscan contributions to shaping dialogue and ecumenical vespers in the Basilica of San Francesco, followed by a procession of prayer and chant where all gathered around the tomb of this Saint who cared so passionately for peace and harmony. We heard from Jean Molesky Poz about the inspirational ‘relational spirituality’ legacy of Saint Clare in the Basilica of Santa Chiara. Our gathering then explored various ecclesial themes in the Convent of San Francesco, inter-faith issues in the church of Santa Maria Maggiore (a church built on a pagan temple) and ecological challenges in the Garden of the Sisters of the Atonement overlooking the rolling Umbrian Hills. A plenary held in the Cathedral of San Rufino brought together perspectives from South Africa, Vietnam, the Philippines and England. We cannot overlook that the world has changed in dramatic ways. Cultural, intellectual and social trends and developments impact ecumenical and ecclesial life as much as they do any other area of human existence. We need to discern the numerous implications of the obvious fact that the world in the twenty-first century is a very different world to what it was in previous times. Innovative ways must be developed if pathways for dialogue are to be cleared. So this gathering was aimed at encouraging ecumenical, interfaith and faith- world ‘thinking outside the box’. It brought together such a richly diverse array of voices in order to help make this happen. The venue of Assisi was chosen because of its long and instinctive association with openness, charity, dialogue, peace, harmony and communion—with the particular charisms of the orders founded by Francis and Clare alike having helped inspire countless ventures in promoting dialogue and openness amongst peoples. It was fitting that this event take place in the ‘Year of Clare’, marking the 800th REPORTS & EVENTS 148 anniversary of the foundation of Santa Chiara’s Order. The organizers—the ecumenical Ecclesiological Investigations Inter- national Research Network—led by a dedicated team from widely differing contexts and experiences, hoped that those themes of openness, charity, dialogue, harmony, peace, community and shared endeavour would inspire every aspect of our gathering. We deliberately set out to bring as many people as possible to this conversation table from outside the confines of Europe and North America and so it was greatly encouraging to see so many participants present from Africa, Asia, Latin America and Oceania. We equally wished to bring as many ‘emerging scholars’ as possible to have their voices heard. They are the people who will have to deliver in the long term on ensuring the pathways for dialogue for this century become fruitful ones that are free of obstacles. We believed it best to get them involved in that work as early as possible—many participants remarked on how inspiring and encouraging it was to see so many younger people interacting with the older generations and sharing their own wisdom and energy towards the furtherance of dialogue. As the participants wound their way through the hills and mountainous splendour that is the terrain of Umbria their imaginations would no doubt have been captured. Looking across the landscape the wondrous horizon can appear to stretch on and on and change momentarily depending on one’s vantage point. Our gathering together was about looking beyond the contemporary ecumenical and inter-religious horizon—seeking understanding, sharing differing perspectives, looking beyond the narrow and confined viewpoints that remain divisive, being inspired by ongoing conversations from so many different countries and many more different contexts and faith communities. No one attended as an official delegate. Why? Well, what we were engaged in was something necessarily different from but complementary to official processes of dialogue between churches and faiths. Here one can draw an analogy with processes of diplomacy in situations of conflict in the political realm. In recent years a framework has been developed which delineates between different processes and practitioners in such diplomacy and situations of conflict and tension. It is called the Tracks of Diplomacy Framework. Essentially, track 1 involves official voices—such as foreign office personnel. Track 2 involves non-official and grassroots voices and 149 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 practitioners. Recent studies of the distinctive forms of such diplomacy demonstrate that the dividing lines between official and non-official diplomacy are no longer so clearly demarcated as once believed, and should not be seen as rigid. What has emerged is a ‘track one-and-a-half diplomacy’ which tries to bridge the gap between 1 and 2 and encourage a two-way exchange of insight and inspiration between the two. Ecumenical and inter-faith efforts for our times can learn much from this and Assisi 2012 sought to test this experiment, and it passed with flying colours. We sought to involve people with experience of official discussions as well as from grassroots ecumenical ventures and to try to build a bridge between the two. We did not wish Assisi 2012 to be seen as an event where differing factions and competing interest groups came together merely to rehearse overly-familiar arguments about lines in the sand that divide people of differing faith communities today. Thus ‘formal scripts’ were neither required or desired at this event. This is why it was especially significant that, with the exception of our gracious hosts, all participants bar none were invited to this conference in their capacity as private individuals—not as representatives and spokespersons of particular churches, traditions and organisations. Of course, many have been and are involved in official ‘track 1’ modes of dialogue and were encouraged to speak out of their experiences of such, not however to a party line, but instead out of an existential orientation aimed at discerning what pathways will work best in our own times. Instead of speaking about tracks of diplomacy, however, we chose to speak about pathways for dialogue— something which is more evocative, open-ended and existentially engaging than the more formal-sounding diplomatic language. Of course, tracks can meet but the problem is they run parallel or in different directions for the main part. Pathways are always intersecting or being cleared anew. So Assisi 2012 had its own framework. We first explored ongoing causes of division, be these doctrinal, organizational, sacramental, moral, social, ethnic or cultural. We then turned to sources and features of commonality, whether pertaining to shared or complementary beliefs, commitments, ethical and social endeavours, our common humanity, or our shared concern for the Earth. Through engaging in a qualitative comparison of the significance of the two, we set our hearts and minds toward re-energising the ecumenical cause REPORTS & EVENTS 150 through resolutely pushing our thinking ‘outside the box’. Each day explored three thematic areas of focus: examining these issues from intra as well as inter-church perspectives; exploring them from inter- faith contexts and perspectives; and finally investigating relations between faith communities and the wider world in which they must live out their faith. In a post-secular age where issues such as racism, migration, war, militant atheism, and globalization challenge all faith communities it was important to remember that dialogue with people of no particular faith is equally as important, as are shared concerns for our world that transcend religious divides. As already suggested, the default modus operandi for the gathering was ‘thinking outside the box’. What might this mean? It is important to stress that this does not mean jettisoning the past or rejecting or neglecting other forms of dialogue and ecumenical and interfaith achievement—far from it. At Assisi 2012, we did not only wish to encourage innovation, but also to learn from the best of the past. Therefore, at this gathering, we sought to revisit, learn from, renew and adapt some of the methodologies employed to great effect in dialogical conversations in the past. For example, one could say that placing the emphasis upon where people dwell in common was Pope John XXIII’s explicit intention when he called the council. Needless to say, many theologians and faith community leaders, particularly among Christians and perhaps especially in the Roman Catholic Church in subsequent decades have rejected such an approach and favoured accentuating difference first and foremost to the detriment of dialogue and commonality. We wished to learn from and encourage dialogue from below and from the margins, as much as from the institutions and communities pursuing and promoting dialogue in more formal ways. In all, we hoped to discuss, to enhance and to promote the ‘science of bridge- building’ for our contemporary communities and for their shared tomorrows. So the sort of dialogue engaged in was at multiple levels. We all know, of course, that there has been much discourse about dialogue at the official level by formal bodies and committees and institutions, just as there has been much literature about grassroots initiatives and collaboration. What there is relatively little attention to at present, however, is how a bridge might be made between these two levels. The good folk of Assisi 2012 were an experiment in building such a bridge! 151 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

St Francis received a vision to ‘rebuild the church’. In one famous passage from his life he stripped himself bare and renounced his former life and set about ‘thinking outside the box’ both in societal and ecclesial terms in a fashion that has had an enormous impact across the globe. He was soon joined in his work by Clare whose vision and followers have equally impacted our globe in the centuries since. During our gathering in Assisi, examples of such innovative thinking to emerge included the very notion of track one-and-a-half ecumenism, itself. Other shared insights included Fordham University’s Brad Hinze’s proposals concerning the promise of ecumenical and inter-faith communities for our times; Iranian Muslim, Bahar Davary’s call for a more fully engaged theological and social dialogue between Christians and Muslims; the exemplary work of the Circle of Concerned African Women Theologians, wonderfully explained by Fulata Mbano-Moyo from Malawi; Mary McClintock Fulkerson (Duke Divinity School) calling for a focus on ‘doing as a way of knowing’ for making difficult dialogue possible, whereby we come to understand one another more fully through engagement with and being alongside the religious ‘Others’ in our societies; and Georgetown’s Peter Phan’s appeal for a re-imagination of the Oikoumene that will give due recognition and priority to the cultural and spiritual realities of the whole world, and not just of two privileged continents. Let us also mention contributions from South Africa (John De Gruchy, Edwin Arrison) on overcoming seemingly insurmountable differences through persistently refusing to allow the burdens of history and religious tribalism to prevail over our futures. So the time has come to help an older generation move beyond the logjam and lethargy of recent times by looking back and forward alike: by learning from the pathways of dialogue in the past, placing present initiatives under differing forms of scrutiny to better understand what methods and means of promoting dialogue are proving fruitful, and those which are not, and finally and of especial significance, looking to the future. And this future not just in abstract terms of ‘what might come to pass’, but crucially in helping to ensure that positive developments and initiatives do come to pass. This is another important reason why this gathering also sought to engage the younger and emerging generation of ecumenists as fully as possible to ensure their voices and experiences are heard and that they in turn are REPORTS & EVENTS 152 better supported, facilitated and prepared to take up the torch of dialogue into the future in a more energised and positive direction. When we set out on organizing Assisi 2012 what did we hope to learn and what did we hope participants might learn? Well, we hoped we would all learn that thinking outside the box collectively can be seen as a good thing and not as a threat, that new methods, including the overall threefold structure adopted, can help move things forward. We hoped that we would also learn that difficult questions must be on the table, but so also must be the areas of commonality and the two compared to see their relative merit. We hoped all would learn from people who have worked in conflict resolution, and from others from widely differing churches and faiths whose experience of difficult situations has helped generate the demand for new methods. And, as already mentioned, we especially hoped that emerging scholars would embrace and celebrate the fact that they are the generation that must deliver on dialogue and greater global harmony and take on responsibility for the future of the wider ecumenical agenda today. There will be many further initiatives through the auspices of the Ecclesiological Investigations International Research Network that will take up the great hope and energy from Assisi 212 and continue the processes that were begun in that very special part of Umbria. In May, 2013 the Network’s Annual International Gathering will meet in Serbia, at a pertinent time when the presumed 1700th anniversary of the Edict of Milan will be marked. This was, itself, an historical moment in history that embraces and epitomizes so many issues, challenges and tensions concerning where the peoples and faiths of the world dwell in common, and what divides them. This was a gathering where we listened, shared and learned together; where participants mutually inspired one another. Our great hope is for participants to return to their own contexts—geographical, ecclesial, religious, and societal—renewed and re-energized in their commitment to dialogue. We hope that local, national and regional processes to further dialogue will develop out of the conversations begun here in this very special part of Umbria, just as we hope what people experienced will impact existing ventures in dialogue. 153 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

THE LIFE AND MINISTRY OF HIS HOLINESS POPE SHENOUDA III Bishop Angaelos, General Bishop of the Coptic Orthodox Church in the United Kingdom Having had dealings with His Holiness for the past twenty-two years, I have experienced a Church leader, a teacher, a mentor, and above all, a father for whom his people were paramount and whose dedication to them was limitless. Having served as his private secretary for six years, I learned of his heart and passion for youth, ecumenism, and general ministry. He was a man who dedicated time each week to praying in solitude to seek strength and guidance from God in order to serve his people faithfully, and would take time out of his incredibly demanding schedule simply to sit and listen to people. Although I know His Holiness’ place in Egyptian society, I did not imagine the outpouring of emotions and sympathy that I have experienced since his departure on 17 March 2012, having received sincere condolences from people on the street in Cairo, people whom I have never met before, Christians and Muslims alike. I was similarly overwhelmed by the number of messages that the Church received from people from every walk of life, all over the world. He was a man who shepherded a Church that faces intense persecution and scrutiny. Needless to say, whether people agreed or disagreed with His Holiness, they respected and never doubted his commitment to, and passion for, what he thought was right. The Early Years Nazeer Gayed was born on 3 August 1923 in Assiut in Egypt. At the age of 16 he became involved in the Sunday School movement, showing a particular passion for youth, leading to one of his most well-known sayings, ‘A Church without youth is a Church without a future’. In 1947 Nazeer graduated from Cairo University with a BA in English and History going on to attain a BA in Coptic Theology in 1949. In 1953 he was appointed lecturer at the Monastic College in Helwan. Monk and Monastic Leader Choosing a life of monasticism, Nazeer was consecrated as Fr Antonious El-Syriani on 18 July 1954. He was later ordained Bishop Shenouda, Bishop for Christian Education and Head of the Coptic REPORTS & EVENTS 154

Orthodox Theological Seminary in 1962, by the late Pope Cyril VI. On 14 November 1971 he was enthroned as Pope Shenouda III, 117th Pope of Alexandria and Patriarch of the Holy Apostolic See of Saint Mark the Evangelist. Preacher and Writer During his episcopal ministry and papacy, His Holiness preached at weekly meetings of over seven thousand people in the Grand Cathedral of St Mark in Cairo, and wrote over 100 spiritual books, later translated into many languages. His Holiness’ publications tackled a variety of subjects, from the complex arguments surrounding dogma to the practical and tangible application of Christianity in everyday life. One of the works that I found to be particularly memorable is his series entitled Years with the Questions of the People. In this series His Holiness provides answers to questions presented to him over the years at his weekly spiritual meetings concerning Scripture, theology and doctrine and questions prevalent in society. What is clearly evident in the text is His Holiness’ ability to answer questions with clarity despite their complexity, giving a clear indication of the Holy Spirit at work in the life of a man who many hailed as a faithful shepherd and spiritual father. Expansion of the Ministry During the course of his papacy, the Church experienced rapid growth within Egypt and in the lands of immigration, including the United Kingdom, Europe, North America and Australasia. There are now over 15 dioceses and 500 parishes outside Egypt, there having only been 4 parishes at the time of his enthronement. His Holiness Pope Shenouda III consecrated 117 metropolitans and bishops and hundreds of priests throughout his reign. He also became the first Pope to establish Coptic monasteries outside Egypt. His ministry was diverse and demanding, an international figure well known for his steadfastness and conviction, yet maintaining his role as a spiritual father for his congregation, the Coptic Church at large. Ecumenism His Holiness was dedicated to ecumenism and helped to pave the way towards greater unity, being the first Alexandrian pope in over 1500 years to visit the Vatican in 1973, and agreeing to establish joint commissions for dialogue on unity. He was the driving force behind 155 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 establishing and re-establishing official and unofficial dialogues, consultations and meetings with the vast variety of representations within the Christian Church worldwide. His heart for ecumenism was clearly evident, as he visited various Christian Churches, established links with national and regional bodies, as well as becoming president of the World Council of Churches from 1991-1998. In an address given at an ecumenical forum during the International Week of Prayer in 1974, Pope Shenouda declared, ‘The whole Christian world is anxious to see the Church unite. Christians, being disenchanted by divisions, are pushing their Church leaders to address this matter of Church unity, and I am sure that the Holy Spirit is inspiring us.’ A Life of Dedication His Holiness spent a great deal of his time in seclusion, dedicating himself to prayer. In his book entitled Release of the Spirit his deep understanding of establishing and maintaining a relationship with God is explored. He delves deeply into the human state and its limitations, outlining the trials encountered as one strives to live a faithful life with and through God. Excerpts from the English translation of The Release of the Spirit Enclosed within four walls Spirituality in the desert or on the mountain differs in its manner from spirituality in the city. One of the most troublesome bonds for a worshipper in the city is being enclosed within four walls. I experienced this myself when I spent a few years at a camp in a desert spot called Almaza, a few miles from Heliopolis. I would climb a hill in that desert with one of my brethren in the Sunday school for prayer and meditation. From that spot, within the range of vision on the horizon, appeared Heliopolis, that splendid suburb with its buildings, streets, road construction and the inhabitants, as a tiny insignificant thing. Only lights were visible from that altitude. We felt that our souls were set free from the dimensions of length, width and height, and the perceived splendour and magnificence, exaltation and elegance. A splendid palace seemed to us the same as a small house, for nothing appeared as it was. We felt spiritual happiness and pleasure in sitting on the sand on that high hill, a happiness which we never felt in the city. REPORTS & EVENTS 156

When we returned to Cairo on a holiday, I tell you truly, my beloved brother, I was disturbed by this noisy capital. I walked in the streets feeling as if a volcano erupted in my head, caused by the clamour of people and the noise of cars, trams and various means of transport. I recognised amidst this noise that I would not be able to think in an orderly, systematic and uninterrupted way as I did while on that high hill. When I closed the door of my room and stood to pray, I was unable. The four walls of the room seemed a strong barrier which prevented me from enjoying God. So, I did not pray but I came out of my room and walked very far away trying to find a quiet high spot where no buildings existed and where few inhabitants and little civilisation was found. After nearly an hour, I found a place which had a little of my requirement. I returned home depressed and longing for my high hill again. The months of the camp ended and we returned to the city where I was forced to become accustomed once again to praying within the four walls. Yet the memories of the high hill remained in my mind till now. To make up partly for this, I used to go up with my young friends after the Sunday lesson to the roof of the church to look upon the Cairo skyline. We saw the same thing from there, in the darkness of the evening, nothing but the shadows of buildings with their white spots of light. Your spirit, my beloved brother, wants to be set free, to fly like a bird which flies from one branch to another. It wants to be like the angels who are always singing praise to God without any bonds or restrictions. If you cannot attain this constantly, at least let this be on certain occasions. This makes me imagine that meditation can be reached more easily and deeply by sailors, farmers and inhabitants of the mountains and deserts. I imagine also that we shall have the same ability when we are released from the bonds of the body and ascend into heaven where God, the angels and the saints are. I discussed this matter with my father the monk and he revealed to me another spiritual, experience. He told me how, at the beginning of his monastic life, he was secluded in his cell for twenty-eight days encompassed within four walls seeing no one and dealing with no one. He spent that period in struggle between himself and God. It was a difficult time in which his soul was sifted but at last the spirit was able to be released from its numerous bonds to unite with God. Thereafter, 157 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 the monk came out of his cell feeling that it was the same to him, to be encompassed within walls or to be free outside of those walls. At this point, I reveal to you a deeper and more sublime level of spirituality. The first level was feeling bored within the four walls… but the next level is to be unaware of the four walls. In this case you sit in your room so absorbed in your prayers, meditations or readings that you are no longer aware of anything around you. You live in another world beyond the senses. So, you do not know whether you are in your room or in an open space in the monastery and whether your cell has walls or not. You do not even know whether heaven has come down to you on earth or you went up to heaven while still on earth. Let me whisper in your ears, my beloved brother, that there were certain persons who could not realise whether they were in the body or out of the body such as St. Paul the Apostle (2 Cor.12:2), Saint John of Assiut and the Spiritual Elder... … I wonder how some think of monasticism as a way for ministry while I see it only as a way to heaven. In monasticism seclusion, contemplations, and continuous striving help the spirit to be released and united with God. My beloved brother, I think there is still much to be said in this respect. Excerpts from the English translation of Years with the Questions of the People On Free Will There are certain matters in which man has no choice. A person has no choice regarding the country in which he was born, the people amidst whom he grew up, the parents who brought him into existence, or the environment that has impacted him; his shape or race, height, intelligence, the talents he is endowed with or deprived of, what he inherited from his parents. On the other hand a person no doubt has free will with respect to his actions and works. He has the choice either to do something or not, to speak or to keep silent. He can, if he chooses, correct many things which he inherited, and change what he acquired from this environment. A person can set aside the whole past and begin a new life, forsaking all previous influences. Many people were able when they grew up, to release themselves from the influence of the environment, and REPORTS & EVENTS 158 education which they had experienced in their childhood. They could do this by bringing themselves into the scope of new, different influences through reading, friendship and company, spiritual guides and new teachers or through religious life or experiences. There are actually some people who were brought up in a corrupt lifestyle but repented; and others who were brought up in a spiritual environment yet they deviated. The Highest Virtue of All The virtue which encompasses all virtues is that of love since on love depend all the Law and the Prophets. But the basis of all the virtues, the basis on which every good work is built, is the virtue of humility, because every virtue that is not based on humility can lead to self- righteousness and false glory, through which the individual can perish. Even love itself, which is the greatest virtue, can cause man to perish, if it is not built on humility. In this case it cannot actually be called ‘love’, in the exact meaning of the word. Conclusion His Holiness Pope Shenouda III was a man of great devotion and resilience, who persevered and endured throughout the many difficult challenges posed to him over the years. He will be remembered as a shepherd who actively followed and lived the teachings of our Lord Jesus Christ, serving all with strength and humility, enduring faithfully to the end. He has not only impacted the lives of those close to him, but as I have witnessed, he has touched the hearts of many worldwide. We pray repose upon the soul of a shepherd who toiled relentlessly despite immense pressures, expectations and health challenges. We give thanks for his life amongst, and ministry to, us all.

Works cited, published in Cairo by the Coptic Orthodox Patriarchate HH Pope Shenouda III, Years with the Questions of the People, 1990. HH Pope Shenouda III, Years with the Questions of the People, 1993. HH Pope Shenouda III, Years with the Questions of the People, part II, 1995. HH Pope Shenouda III, The Release of the Spirit, 1990. 159 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

SERMON PREACHED BY THE ARCHBISHOP OF DUBLIN, MICHAEL JACKSON, AT A SERVICE TO MARK THE WEEK OF PRAYER FOR CHRISTIAN UNITY, DUBLIN, 18 JANUARY 2012

For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will rise imperishable, and we shall be changed. 1 Corinthians 15:52b I imagine that with Christmas still ringing in our ears, we are much more familiar with this Pauline phrase from 1 Corinthians in the version of George Frederick Handel: The trumpet shall sound and the dead shall be raised incorruptible. Not only has Messiah come to Dublin but it now seems that, in the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity 2012, the whole ecumenical world has come to Dublin, to Fishamble Street, to be shown once again through the joyful noise of St Paul, in 1 Corinthians, and through the association with Handel’s Messiah, that all Christian people are called to live the life of resurrection—here and now, in their time, in their place and in their generation: For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will rise imperishable, and we shall be changed. I want, however, to take you across the road to St Werburg’s Church, in nearby Werburg Street, no more than a couple of hundred metres from Fishamble Street itself—both of them standing in the graceful penumbra of Christ Church Cathedral—and, on arrival, to step inside. There we will find a memorial copper plaque on an interior wall of the church which says it all. It does so with the economy of language and the precision of content which only a Classical language can give. SALPISEI is what it says and, as you will recognize, voiced in the Greek language with the confidence of translucent simplicity, we have before us the same inescapable sentiment ‘in little space,’ as the Christmas Carol describes God Incarnate: THE TRUMPET SHALL SOUND. We need only this one word to give the full sound of resurrection life and the hope which fuels and accompanies such life in the present and for the future. As children of God’s adoption, we are called and invited not to some undisclosed future Treasure Island but to something and to somewhere and to somebody real and tangible, here and now—risen REPORTS & EVENTS 160 life flourishing already in the squalor and the exuberance of human existence. Resurrection, as this particular Week of Prayer for Christian Unity tells us, has an impact right now. If Holy Scripture and human experience combined teach us anything, they teach us that there is no alternative body of Christ, there is no parallel and better church than what we see before our eyes and to which we and others belong. There is no ideal church which might suit us better, no preferred body of people whom we can wheel out like some Pantomime Horse from behind the stage curtains to give the audience a lift and a laugh. St Augustine of Hippo was very clear about this. Repeatedly, his picture of the church is the image of Noah’s Ark: buffeted on the high seas; packed to the point of claustrophobia with an array of God’s creatures we cannot avoid or sidestep, because there is no room to go or to be anywhere else, forced simply to get on with it together because the alternative is even worse. How far from such intensity of spiritual need, such human experience and such realistic accommodation has the luxury of denominational identity brought us! We urgently need to take stock of where we have let ourselves drift. We need to turn around, to face one another and to commit to the solidarity of what is common to us all within the ever- present love of God. Such love as this is all too frequently clouded over and crowded out by our wilful differences. Perhaps it is for this reason that the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity stubbornly and annually culminates, as un-finished business, in the Conversion of St Paul—with all of his depth of erudition in The Law, all of his personal unwillingness to listen to the testimony of others who were different from him, all of his single-minded waywardness and tunnel vision and all of his unacknowledged need to stop petrifying The Tradition which he had carefully constructed and which he kept polishing with equal detail and obsession. The Damascus Road offered him a light which he could not sidestep. That light is the effulgence and the effervescence of Christ Risen. God lovingly considered him worthy of conversion, in the face of all his difficulties. Exuberantly joyful and beautifully eternal, the life of resurrection constantly re-engages us with our neighbours whom we may not know and whom we may well not like—and they may not like us very much either. Resurrection is about something quite different. It is not a luxury item which is ours to take up or to throw down. It is a divine 161 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 work in progress. It is an obedience which enfolds and embraces us and, despite cheap consumerist wisdom, we have less choice than we think. Hence we carry deep within ourselves—whatever our denomination, whatever our religiosity—the need constantly in this Week of Weeks to be re-connected with the same St Paul and with the same Conversion which will be the high point of this Annual Week of Prayer for living unity of intention, of purpose and of action. Conversion is widely seen today as a word of repression, of limitation of options and of withdrawal of freedom. I suspect that this has, in part, come about because we have let ourselves off the hook by accepting uncritically—or, if you prefer, swallowing whole—the rhetoric of the clash of civilizations, whatever form it takes. Whether it be the observed trench warfare between progressives and conservatives within Christian denominations, whether it be the real threat to human and personal freedoms posed by militant Islam and the Christian response in international arenas of war from which the West is now slithering away, we have bought the idea that conversion is the preserve of fundamentalism—and, whatever else you might call us, we do not want to be called fundamentalists! But this is not what conversion is. Con-version itself means a turning with, a stopping in our tracks and a wheeling round towards a respectful belonging which makes and maintains accommodation with others. Conversion is not to be a sullen concession of what matters most but a gracious giving of what is doubled in value and honour in the handing over. Conversion in this sense enriches and enhances who we are by bringing the perspective and the dynamic of the other person into our very being. At the heart of conversion lies a vulnerability which gives focus and force to witness, to proclamation, to Gospel as the voice of resurrection. This is a difficult and unpalatable message for a modern generation, now coping none too well with the free-fall of post-post-modernity and the rubble of economic collapse, year after year after year for the foreseeable future. We have accustomed ourselves to the absence of commitment which over-advertized consumer choice has brought— until now—for a few, but for a few who set the pace of dis-satisfaction for the many. Somehow, to have to home in on a particular and a specific commitment spoils the fun, takes away the capacity to exercize our Statutory Consumer Rights, return the thing with which REPORTS & EVENTS 162 we are now bored along with the receipt and get our money back. Then we are off to buy something completely different and we start all over again. But even this image is like a Fun Fair carousel without a generator. It no longer rotates and glistens—and we all know it. The surprise is that we thought the lights would continue to shine even after the bulbs had blown. We were fooling only ourselves and it suited both the bankers and the politicians of the day—Gross Domestic Product, win-win situations, you must speculate in order to accumulate, all of the old clichés of greed and expenditure which took us out of the nurture of belonging to one another into the narcissism of belonging only to the reflected image of ourselves. We now see fairground clowns with no audience left in the Big Tent; only the landlord growling ever more vociferously for last month’s and this month’s rent all at the same time. It is into this situation that St Paul and George Frederick Handel cry: Hallelujah! and with very good reason. The sentiment is clear even if the language is convoluted. Conversion, like resurrection, is not first and foremost about us; it is about God in Christ reconciling the world to himself. (This, sadly, is where post-modernism and the Free Market Economy joined forces—we thought that it was all about us and would continue to be all about us. But it isn’t and it wasn’t.) The clear message of 1 Corinthians is that death as we know it is not the end of creation’s relationship with the Creator, but the beginning of the new beginning. The change which will be brought about in us will be through the victory of Jesus Christ over death itself as the last great enemy of continuity of identity and of love of God and neighbour. It is to this change and this victory that we are converted, that we are turned together and it is for this conversion that the world longs if the gift of God’s glorious redemption in to be poured in forgiveness, in generosity, in healing nd in selfless beauty. Whether we care to admit it or not, a divided Christian witness convinces fewer and fewer people less and less of the time. Older people find that exclusivity does not square with their experience of long life. Younger people find equally that exclusivity does not square with their experience of loyalty and friendship. Exclusivity has largely become the collector’s item of the spiritually middle-aged—and this is deeply worrying. Each denomination sets up its own version of The Law and has to deal with that swingeing broadside from the Paul who 163 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 has experienced resurrection: The sting of death is sin, but the power of sin is the law. Resurrection shows us that with the paralysis of sin, death lost its power to sting. And so the powerlessness of death has come to light and life in its reversal through the resurrection. The circle of repression and imprisonment is broken. Christ’s victory brings the invitation to every Christian to be turned to Christ and to our neighbours. Conversion and resurrection flow in and out of one another. This is the initiative which people of ecumenical principle and practice must seize. To me the next decade of ecumenical relations looks something like this, and it will be no surprize to Archbishop Martin, my gracious and good friend, to hear me say these things. First, there needs to be a common voice of humility on the part of all churches in Ireland, a voice which gives priority to service over leadership. The same Risen Christ is the Son of Man who came not to be served but to serve and to give his life a ransom for many. Secondly, there needs to be a structured and collaborative engagement of the same churches with the abundant capacity of lay people every bit as much as clergy. I suspect that lay people are tired of hearing this and, indeed, of hearing themselves referred to as ‘lay people’. The church is of God. The ministry is of Christ. We are less different from one another than history has made us. The change in culture is urgent if it is not already almost too late. Thirdly, young people, although often unreadable by older people, are the lifeblood of the present. They have a commitment to justice and fair-mindedness, to friendship and to versatility at which we ought all to marvel. So often, all we can say about them is: Why are they not in church? We need to trust to the presence of the Risen Christ in them and among them, generating the good and selfless things which they do. Fourthly, in a time of impacted recession, the renewed recognition that the poor always are at the heart of the Gospel, not as the grateful recipients of second-hand generosity but as the dispensers of grace and the hosts of God’s gifts to humanity at large, has to be reasserted and re-enacted. We are going nowhere without one another. Fifthly, ecumenism of itself is not enough. Christian Churches together need to engage in the common cause of humanity with those REPORTS & EVENTS 164 of World Faiths other than their own and, in that gloriously gentle phrase, with those whose faith is known only to themselves and to God. We need to cease pushing ourselves, invading the space of others. We need to accept the integrity of intention of others and leave the specifics to God and their consciences. Sixthly, we need to be joyful, to rejoice, to let the trumpets sound and, like St Paul and Handel, to sing: Hallelujah!

But thanks be to God! He has given us victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 1 Corinthians 15.57.

Welcome to a Christian East/West Day Vision for the Church of the Future Turvey Abbey, Bedfordshire, UK 29 September 2012 Contributors: Fr Robin Gibbons, Greek Melkite priest and university lecturer in Oxford Revd Jo Spray, Licensed priest for St Albans and Oxford Dioceses Sister Esther of Turvey Abbey Prior booking essential Bookings and further information from Sister Lucy at Turvey Abbey email: [email protected] 165 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

THE RE-LAUNCH OF ENGLISH ARC

Tony Castle*

Founded some 40 years ago the English Anglican Roman Catholic Committee has given support and encouragement to ARCIC, and more recently IARCCUM (International Anglican Roman Catholic Commission for Unity and Mission). With the appointment of two new co-chairmen, Archbishop Bernard Longley of Birmingham (Catholic co- chairman of ARCIC) and Bishop Timothy Thornton of Truro, it was decided to improve the Committee’s work, and make it better known, by an examination of EARC’s aims and purposes and by slimming down the Committee’s membership to ten from each Church. The new membership met and re-launched EARC at Canterbury on 23rd-24th March.

Canterbury re-launch The setting and timing were providential and could not have been improved upon. Meeting at the Canterbury Cathedral Lodge, 23-24 March 2012, with the restored, sun-soaked cathedral walls towering above, glimpsed through the delicate pink Spring blossom, the new English Anglican-Roman Catholic Committee was informally launched. The commencement of Passiontide, with the new life of Easter in view, provided the liturgical back-drop. Lectio divina afforded a special spiritual opening of the meeting, with a meditative reading of the Last Supper priestly prayer of Jesus, before the review of the past and the forward planning for the future got underway. This was the 89th meeting of English ARC. The previous meeting, the last before the re-launch, was at Hinsley Hall, Leeds.

* Tony Castle recently retired from Catholic Education as Head of R.E. and Diocesan Inspector of schools for the Brentwood Diocese. He has contributed to several Educational programmes, and produced over 50 books supporting Catholic education and pastoral work. He is currently chairman of the Brentwood Ecumenical Commission and Ecumenical Officer; he serves nationally on EARC (English Anglican Roman Catholic Committee).

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The start: finding the way English ARC, or EARC, stands for the English Anglican-Roman Catholic Committee. It is a national body which was set up to promote reflection, prayer, study and practical work for unity at the local and national level in the light of the work of ARCIC (Anglican- Roman Catholic International Commission). More recently the work of IARCCUM (International Anglican Roman Catholic Commission for Unity and Mission) has, since its inception in 2001, been promoted and supported. The former (ARCIC) is mainly made up of theologians seeking theological convergence, while IARCCUM is made up of bishops and has a broader pastoral range, encouraging prayer and the harvesting of the fruits of ARCIC, while witnessing together and planning joint action. There are parallel ARCs in countries where the Anglican and Roman Catholic Churches have a reasonably large representation; so, for example, there is a French ARC, a Belgian ARC, a Canadian ARC and an Australian ARC. So, when did English ARC begin? That question has led to some research and debate, because there appeared to be no clear cut answer. It seems that the commencement can be traced to 20 April 1970 when the first meeting took place between the Archbishop of Canterbury’s Commission on Roman Catholic Relations (CRCR) and the Church of England Sub-Commission of the Roman Catholic Ecumenical Commission for England and Wales (ECEW). The meeting took place at the Westminster Cathedral Library. At that time the ecumenical scene was quite different from today. ARCIC had just commenced its work and on the home front group discussion schemes, like ‘People Next Door’ had proved very popular and had raised high hopes and expectations. The two groups met again on 22nd October 1970 and then three times each year until the 11th meeting on 28 and 29 March 1974 at St Katherine’s Foundation, East London, when for the first time the minutes of the meeting are headed ‘English ARC’. So in effect the English ARC conversation began with the first meeting in 1970, but the two groups may not have finally thought of themselves as one ARC until 1974. The minutes of the first meeting, in 1970, record that ‘Father John Coventry [a well-known Roman Catholic Jesuit theologian] tried unsuccessfully to get the meeting to define its aims’! It was not until the seventh meeting, in November 1972, that the purpose of the meetings was defined as follows: ‘The positive fostering 167 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 of Roman Catholic and Anglican relations in England, and the co- ordination of future work undertaken for this purpose by our two churches.’ At this stage some topics that later loomed large in the life of the Committee were being mentioned; namely, the possibilities of spiritual ecumenism, promoting joint church schools, encouraging local ecumenism, making the work of ARCIC known and fostering co- operation in theological education. Commissioned pointers At its thirteenth meeting, the Committee asked its outgoing Anglican Co-Chairman, William Chadwick, the Bishop of Barking, to prepare a position paper on the tasks of English ARC. A year later Bishop Chadwick was invited back to present his findings. The points that follow are taken from the Minutes of that meeting. 1 The origins of the Committee can be traced to the ecumenical conversations that were taking place prior to the historic meeting between Archbishop Michael Ramsey and Pope Paul VI in 1966; soon after the Second Vatican Council had opened up the Roman Catholic Church to the Ecumenical Movement. 2 The early development of what became English ARC was strongly regionalised and moved to the national level later. 3 In the early days they did not realise how long-term the task of promoting Anglican-Roman Catholic rapprochement would be (and that was in 1976!). A programme for theological study was proposed. Membership Originally the membership was almost entirely composed of scholars and theologians. Each side had 15 members which included two bishops and two officers, viz. a co-secretary and a co-chairman. Later, observers from Churches Together in England, the Methodist Church and the Church in Wales became regular attendees. In practice the Roman Catholic Church was regularly under-strength with fewer representatives. As time passed the make-up became more balanced with the inclusion of pastoral practitioners, especially from the field of Education. This mixed membership is reflected in the programme of activities. REPORTS & EVENTS 168

Recruitment Eight years ago the R.C. Co-secretary, Fr John O’Toole, who is an old friend, rang me and told me that English ARC were looking for an Education specialist, who had experience of Ecumenism, to join the Roman Catholic team. I had been involved in ecumenism, at a practical, pastoral level, for over forty years, but I had never heard of EARC! John explained its work to me and, a few weeks later, I turned up for two days at the Emmaus Centre, West Wickham, Kent. That Friday evening and Saturday morning I felt completely out of my depth! I barely understood the erudite discussions and it all seemed very academic; and I spoke not a word! At my next meeting I found the courage to ask a question: ‘As a new member I was wondering what happens to everything that is discussed at this meeting ? How do outsiders get to know of it?’ The answer was very elusive. It has remained, over the years, a challenging question, but one that the new, re-launched Committee is intent upon addressing. (My contributions increased as time passed.) Structure EARC has, since 1974, met twice a year. Originally there was a day meeting and a weekend. About 1991 it was decided to extend the day meeting to a weekend. Currently members gather about 3 p.m. on a Friday, then after tea have one long session before the evening meal and another after dinner. If a visit to an ecumenical project, or similar, is taking place it occurs in place of the first session. (Examples of these visits will be given later). After communal Night Prayers about 9 p.m. there is social time, which all consider as important as the sessions. Good, solid, friendships are maintained even though this is only a bi- annual gathering. The next day begins early at about 7.30 a.m. with either a Roman Catholic Mass, celebrated by the Catholic Co-chairman or an Anglican Eucharist celebrated by the Anglican Co-chair. The morning is occupied by two long sessions ending with lunch around 1 p.m. and then departures. The Steering group meet before each of the EARC weekends to plan the meetings.

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Activities These fall into three broad areas. First, shared worship. The members of the Committee consider it of the first importance that they pray and worship together and share, as far as possible, in the Eucharist, short of actually communicating. This is a difficult and painful moment for all members when the reality and pain of separation is actually experienced. Meetings are structured around worship and members believe that this is significant in itself, because, despite the problems, it sets the tone of mutual respect and goodwill and underpins the genuine fellowship in Christ that is experienced.. In addition to an opening prayer for each session there is always Night Prayer on the Friday evening and, early next morning, Mass, if the Anglicans had provided Night Prayer, or C of E Eucharist, if it had been a Roman Catholic Night Prayer. (Having several good ‘voices’ present, unaccompanied singing enlivens and engages everyone.) Second, shared reflection and the study of statements that concern the relationship between the two Churches. This includes examining together ecumenical agreed texts, especially those of ARCIC, for example, at Walsingham in November 2006, Mary Grace and Hope in Christ. In the past, English ARC has actively disseminated and offered commentary on some ARCIC texts (and there were initially plans to do this for Mary Grace and Hope). It has tried to give encouragement and support to the work of IARCCUM. In any event, frank discussion within English ARC of texts that will be scrutinised very closely within our Churches can assist the process of reception and evaluation. In the last few years a valuable contribution to meetings, which has proved to be inspiring, is an individual member’s story of their personal ecumenical journey. This has led to valuable discussion and reflection. Sometimes this also fits in with the continuing concern of EARC for inter-church families. When appropriate there have been short reviews of books that were believed to be of value to the ongoing work of Ecumenism. For example, at the April 2010 meeting I provided a review of Paul Avis’ book Reshaping Ecumenical Theology. At the November 2011 gathering Paul Avis reviewed Is the Ordinariate for You? produced by the Anglican Association; and Anglicans and the Roman Catholic Church: REPORTS & EVENTS 170

Reflections on recent developments edited by Stephen Cavanaugh. The Reviews always lead into a stimulating discussion and a sharing of ideas and views. Third, visits to institutions and projects where Anglicans and Roman Catholics are working together. The November gathering of the Committee has generally been used for such visits. The Spring meeting has concentrated upon documentation and discussion. The visits have included institutions of higher education, such as the Liverpool Hope University College; collaboration in theological education, such as the Cambridge Federation and the Armed Forces Chaplaincy. Very memorable visits in the last ten years have been to: • East Midlands Airport Chaplaincy Team, working for staff and passengers. • HM Young Offenders Institution, Ashfield, near Bristol, where the Ecumenical Team shared their worship arrangements and made it possible to speak to officers and young offenders. • Mayday Hospital (now Croydon University Hospital) where the work of the excellent ecumenical chaplaincy was observed. • Durham cathedral (for a very memorable Evensong) and Ushaw College, where Dr Paul Murray presented and expounded his work on Receptive Ecumenism. • The two shrines at Walsingham with the Ecumenical team who work with pilgrims. • Gladstone’s Library at St Deinols, Flintshire, with its breath-taking collection of over 250,000 theological books and works on Scripture. The ecumenical hosts of these visits clearly go to great trouble to make the occasion of value and it is evident that the visits are taken very seriously. After each one time has been given, at one of the following sessions, to conduct a review and an assessment of the visit. There have also been visits by a representative group to French and Belgian ARCS. Productive friendships I have always looked forward to the meetings, wherever they have been held, chiefly because I would be seeing friends again, from my own Church but also from the Anglican Church. The warmth of the atmosphere is generated by a lot of humour, which certainly helps us not to take ourselves too seriously. Many of the friendships have 171 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 furthered the work of ecumenism outside of the short time together. An example of this is the friendship that developed between myself and Canon Jeremy Worthen. When the Anglican Ecumenical Officer of the Chelmsford Diocese and myself (Ecumenical Officer of the Diocese of Brentwood) started planning a joint study day on ‘Approaches to Morality’, I consulted and invited Canon Worthen to take part; which he generously and happily did. An example of EARC work As a Diocesan inspector of Schools one area that I was particularly interested in and could contribute to, was the topic of Joint Schools, especially as I had inspected two such schools in the course of my work for RC Diocese of Brentwood. I include an edited summary of the document issued by EARC because it was a subject that had occupied the Committee for many years; and one to which I made some contribution. JOINT ANGLICAN-ROMAN CATHOLIC SCHOOLS After much research, discussion and debate over many years, we, of the English Anglican-Roman Catholic Committee, commit ourselves to promoting joint schools. We, together in a fraternal spirit, look to pro- actively support and encourage the long-established maxim, ‘we will not do separately what we can do together’. As our Church schools, popularly known as ‘Faith Schools’ come under sustained attack from secularists, we assert that it is our intention to support the existing joint Anglican-Roman Catholic schools and seek ways of encouraging the relevant authorities to build and finance more. The general accusations levelled at our Church schools are that they are too exclusive, divisive and sectarian and do not encourage social cohesion. The existing joint schools, on the contrary, promote the virtues of mutual respect and understanding, while sharing many common beliefs and practices. The recent Government initiative called ‘Every Child Matters’ has, in essence, been the motivating force of our Church schools for nearly a century. This, with the following principles, is what Joint Church schools are committed to. a. Promote community cohesion. The providers of Church Schools, including Joint Church schools, welcome the duty imposed on the governing bodies to promote community cohesion. b. Work in partnership with the local authority and the Learning and REPORTS & EVENTS 172

Skills Council. The providers of Church schools welcome the involvement of local authority governors as members of governing bodies. c. Offer high standards of education. d. Endeavour to promote ‘Every Child Matters’. The needs of all pupils equally will be met and catered for. e. Work in partnership with other schools and organisations. The school will play a full role in the local Admissions Forum and Schools Forum. f.. Link with the Local Safeguarding Children Board. The safety and security of each and every child will be a priority. g. Respect the dignity and rights of every person in the school community. Every human person, pupils and staff, of all faiths and none, will be accorded the dignity and respect that is their due. h. Nurture the young people in the faith of their family. What are Church schools for? The Church school, whether Anglican, Roman Catholic or Joint, exists to support the Christian family, working with the local parish, in the serious responsibility, assumed at the Baptism of the child, to bring up that child in the Christian Faith. Home, school and parish share in that task. To further this, it is the aim of both Churches to provide an excellent all-round education, central to every child’s development, in a caring community setting, that promotes their faith development with their human, intellectual and emotional development. Both Churches believe that Church schools should be distinctive Christian institutions, where Gospel values inform the life of the community and that they should be fully integrated into the life of the local parishes. The schools, faithful to the teaching and example of Christ, should be socially inclusive, seeking to bring children from different backgrounds together. Schools should recognise and respect the religious freedom and personal conscience of individual pupils and their families, providing, where necessary, facilities for the observance of an individual pupil’s faith. The reconfiguration The above edited summary of the document that EARC issued on Joint Schools is just one area that English ARC has focussed on in recent years. It has often been felt that, as a Committee, we would benefit from being given a clear brief by our respective Churches which could direct and focus our work, paralleling, in some sense, the clear brief that has been given to ARCIC over the years. To address concerns regarding the aim and purpose, along with the 173 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 communication problem, of EARC, the Steering Group met and drafted a paper containing Notes and Propositions. The latter, dated 28th November 2011, were signed by the Co-Chairmen, Archbishop Bernard Longley (RC Archbishop of Birmingham) and Bishop Timothy Thornton (Anglican Bishop of Truro) and they formed the substance of the re-launch meeting at Canterbury. A brief summary of the Propositions follows. Propositions, in brief 1. The continuance of English ARC as a body committed to the positive fostering of Roman Catholic and Anglican relations in England, and the co-ordination of future work undertaken for this purpose by our two churches, is essential. 2. Worship and shared reflection are important and should continue. 3. English ARC’s impact on relations between the churches is more important than the benefit its members derive from the meetings. 4. While EARC should continue to respond to and disseminate the work of ARCIC, in the present context action which has a perceptible practical impact on relations, in pursuit of the IARCCUM agenda, ought to be given a higher priority than it has had. 5. There will be a need to relate to and encourage Anglican-Roman Catholic co-operation at diocesan level—but in a strategic way, e.g. by relating to bishops and ecumenical officers. 6. There should be some reflective theological work, but of the sort that makes a tangible difference—for example, responding to requests for comment from ARCIC III or helping people to engage with ARCIC documents as they are published. 7. EARC should invite the episcopates of the two Churches to comment on its proposed agenda and work and should give progress reports to their joint meetings. 8. Engagement with local ecumenical work should be planned in the light of English ARC’s agenda. It will be undertaken more efficiently either by representatives coming to a meeting of EARC or by an ad hoc task group visiting and reporting back. 9. An agenda refocused to give priority to the IARCCUM agenda requires a different sort of membership. While members with theological vision will still be needed, connectedness with national church structures or strategic awareness and experience will be much more important. REPORTS & EVENTS 174

10. A smaller body with a more focused task is likely to have much greater effect. Twenty people overall, including the secretaries, should be a maximum core membership. The proposal therefore is that English ARC should in future comprise: 10 representatives of the Church of England: • two bishops (one in chair) • six clergy and lay members with national-level strategic awareness and theological competence • an Anglican Co-Secretary • the Archbishop of Canterbury’s Ecumenical Secretary 10 representatives of the Roman Catholic Church: • two bishops (one in chair) • six clergy and lay members with national-level strategic awareness and theological competence • the Roman Catholic Co-Secretary • the Ecumenical Secretary of the Bishops’ Conference In addition, an observer appointed by Churches Together in England. These proposals were approved by the Council for Christian Unity (C of E) and the Department for Dialogue and Unity (RC) and the next phase of the English ARC’s life and work commenced at the meeting at Canterbury on 23-24 March 2012. Present membership of English ARC Anglican Rt. Revd Timothy Thornton, Bishop of Truro (Co-Chairman) Rt. Revd Geoffrey Pearson, Bishop of Lancaster Revd John Cook, Vicar of St Mary, Wargrave with St Peter’s, Knowl Hill, Berkshire Revd Dr Andrew Davison, Tutor, Westcott House, Cambridge Revd Duncan Dormor, Dean of St John’s College, Cambridge Very Revd Vivienne Faull, Dean of Leicester Miss Joy Gilliver, Adviser for Ministry and Adult Christian Education, Diocese of Chichester Mrs Margaret Swinson, Vice-Chair, Council for Christian Unity Revd Canon Jonathan Goodall, Archbishop of Canterbury’s Personal Chaplain and Ecumenical Secretary Dr Colin Podmore, Clerk to the General Synod and Secretary, Council for Christian Unity (Co-Secretary)

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Roman Catholic Most Revd Bernard Longley, Archbishop of Birmingham (Co- Chairman) Rt Revd Paul Hendricks, Auxiliary Bishop, Archdiocese of Southwark Revd Canon John O’Toole, Dean of St George’s Cathedral, Southwark (Co-secretary) Mrs Louise Walton, Lay Chaplain (RC), University of Greenwich Dr Alana Harris, Fellow of Lincoln College, Oxford Mr Anthony Castle, Chairman of the Diocese of Brentwood’s Ecumenical Commission and ecumenical officer Mrs Dora Nash, former Head of RE and head of sixth form at the Oratory School, Reading Sister Sheila Moloney DMJ former deputy head of Coloma Convent Girls School; co-ordinator of the RC Chaplaincy at Croydon University Hospital Revd Robert Byrne, Ecumenical Secretary, Catholic Bishops’ Conference A yet to be identified tenth member In attendance Revd Dr David Cornick, General Secretary of Churches Together in England Mr Francis Bassett, Assistant Secretary, C of E Council for Christian Unity Setting out on new paths The Canterbury meeting had a crisp freshness to it, with everyone joining in the discussions and decision making (one of the benefits of a smaller group). Tasks to be completed by the next meeting were agreed and shared out. Louise Walton had the task of creating a Facebook page. This is now available at: www.facebook.com/EnglishAnglicanRomanCatholicCommittee. There was the common feeling that much had been achieved and an almost tangible hope that we were setting out on new, fruitful paths. We went home happily with our homework; mine was to write this article! REPORTS & EVENTS 176

MICHAEL SATTLER: CATHOLICS REMEMBER ANABAPTIST MARTYR From: Bridgefolk news release, 30 May 2012, Collegeville, Minnesota. On May 20 a Benedictine abbot whose ancestors had once been Dutch Mennonites, led in commemorating the 485th anniversary of the martyrdom of Michael Sattler. Sattler had been a Benedictine, but left during the Peasants’ War of 1525 to become an Anabaptist leader. He is regarded as the primary author of the Schleitheim Confession. The Abbot was Fr John Klassen, the leader of the largest Benedictine monastery in North America, Saint John’s Abbey in Collegeville, Minnesota. A Benedictine commemoration of the martyrdom of Michael Sattler was first suggested 25 years ago in a leading Catholic scholarly journal1 by an Irish Catholic abbot, Fr Eoin de Bhaldraithe. De Bhaldraithe had become acquainted with Mennonites through their peacemaking work in Northern Ireland. This year’s commemoration took place at the recently established Michael Sattler House, located immediately adjacent to the Saint John’s campus and described as ‘a place where the 500-year Mennonite and Amish tradition of lay discipleship, which Michael Sattler did so much to initiate, can be combined with the 1500-year Benedictine tradition in which he was formed.’ An open letter2 written for the event states, ‘We at the Michael Sattler House have come to believe that Catholics can now regard Michael Sattler as an early martyr witness to the principles of social justice and freedom of conscience which became official Catholic doctrine at Vatican II—in the Declaration on Religious Liberty, and in ‘The Church in the Modern World’. We also believe Mennonites and Amish can now view Michael Sattler not only as one of their major founders, but as one who brought with him the riches of the pre- Reformation Benedictine tradition in which he was formed, and on which many of their own traditions are based.’ Plans are now being made for a second commemoration of Michael Sattler’s martyrdom on May 20, 2013.

1 See Downside Review, 105 (1987), 111–131. 2 See 177 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1

BOOK REVIEW Nous avons cheminé ensemble: un itinéraire oecuménique, Maurice René Beaupère OP (Lyon: Editions Olivétan, 2012), 192 pages. In this book René Beaupère looks back over sixty years during which ecumenism has been not just his interest but his ‘passion’, recounted in interviews with Béatrice Soltner of Radios Chrétiennes en France. A preface by the Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew I and a postface by Pastor Jacques Maury, formerly President of the Protestant Federation of France, indicate the breadth of his concerns. Maurice was born in Lyon in 1925, the eldest of six children; his father died when he was twelve, so he had family responsibilities at an early age. Two of his fellow-citizens influenced him greatly, both in their different ways teaching him that human beings are a hub of relationships. Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, author of Le Petit Prince, which he claims to know by heart, attracted him by his questing mind and adventurous spirit, his stress on the need for concrete relationships between persons. Abbé Paul Couturier was an elderly science teacher at the Institution des Chartreux, run by the Society of Priests of St Ireneus, where Maurice went for his secondary studies. Paul Couturier taught me, he says, that ‘the fact that another does not think, or live, or see things just as I do, is no reason for turning away from him, quite the contrary … it was a spiritual approach to the other’. Couturier’s influence in initiating him into prayer for unity, the unity that Christ wills, to come by the means he wills, was exercised particularly in the period 1941-44, after Maurice had left the Institution des Chartreux and before he became a Dominican novice and took the name ‘René’. The Abbé also continued to support the young Dominican in his years of formation when he had left Lyon. He forwarded materials René could use to stimulate interest in the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity and give talks on ecumenism, sent Anglican religious to visit his convent, and encouraged him to go to Taizé in 1948 to meet Roger Schutz and Max Thurian, which led to lifelong friendships. He also facilitated René’s participation in the ecumenical Catholic/Protestant Groupe des Dombes, in spite of his youth; in fact, he remained a member for 54 years (1952-2005)—quite a record. After his ordination as a priest in 1951, the young Dominican was offered a year of further studies. He jumped at the chance—and chose BOOK REVIEW 178 to go to the Ecole Biblique in Jerusalem, because he ‘wanted to be able to talk to our Protestant brothers’; he imagined they knew the Bible by heart! Here he gained a deeper sense of the incarnation, as well as a love for the whole region. He was also attracted to the Christian East. The White Fathers who ran a seminary for Greek Catholic priests sent him to visit the Orthodox sisters in their convent at the foot of the Mount of Olives, where he was amazed to hear Russian Orthodox liturgical singing for the first time. He got to know Lev Gillet, a former Benedictine who was reconciled with the Orthodox without denying the Catholicism of his baptism. He began reading the books of eastern spirituality that Fr Lev wrote for publication by the monastery of Chevetogne in , under the pseudonym of ‘a monk of the Church of the East’. In January 1953 he had the joy of a visit from Roger Schutz and Max Thurian, who behind closed doors were able to address a small Dominican group—an event unprecedented in Jerusalem. He remembers with affection ‘the joyous friendship of my guests who came like swallows announcing an ecumenical spring’. It was a time when he made many new friends, especially eastern Catholics and Orthodox Christians, friendships which were to develop in later years in the course of official ecumenical encounters, as for example in the World Council of Churches’ Faith and Order context. But ‘meetings with persons came first’. Soon after his return to Lyon in autumn 1953, René Beaupère was able to spend a few weeks living with a Protestant pastor and his family in a large village half Catholic, half Protestant. Pastoral problems on the ground (including those of mixed marriages) convinced him that it would be a long time before the Groupe des Dombes would be able to make much impact at that level. But it also convinced him of the need for a centre that could give theological and pastoral help in an ecumenical perspective to priests and pastors at local level, since this seemed to be totally lacking. Indeed, since 1950 he had dreamed with a fellow-Dominican also influenced by Abbé Couturier of such a place. They were inspired by the work of Paul Couturier, but also by that of two Dominicans. On the intellectual plane Yves Congar OP, author of Chrétiens Désunis, was an ecumenical pioneer, and on the institutional level there was the example of Christophe-Jean Dumont OP who ran the Istina Centre at Paris for study and meetings with Russian Orthodox. René Beaupère was always grateful that his Dominican superiors took his ecumenical 179 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 vocation seriously. With their agreement the two young Dominicans moved into a Dominican centre that had been well used during the war for talks on religious and spiritual subjects and housed a library, but had been little used since. Thus the ecumenical Centre Saint- Irénée was established, and René Beaupère has lived there ever since. He explained that the dedication was chosen to emphasise that the Centre was not only for Catholics and Protestants but must include a dialogue with the East; Christianity had come to Lyon not from Rome but from Asia Minor, and Irenaeus, its second bishop, was from there. Besides, he preferred St Irenaeus’ theology to that of St Thomas Aquinas in his Summa; it was less static and scholastic. He paid frequent visits to Taizé in those days when Roger Schutz was writing a Rule for the Community. On its inside covers the book contains colour reproductions of the three stained glass windows of the Centre’s chapel, designed by Brother Eric of Taizé on the theme of Word and Sacrament, and presented by the Community in 1957. It was in 1957 that René Beaupère’s friend Pastor Paul Eberhard organised at Lyon the first-ever French-language exhibition on the subject of the World Council of Churches, set up in Geneva in 1948. The Dominican was an enthusiastic collaborator, and delighted to have an opportunity to welcome the WCC General Secretary Visser’t Hooft to the Centre Saint-Irénée. Because the exhibition was at Lyon, they added a panel on Paul Couturier and Taizé! But the speakers invited to Lyon on the occasion of the exhibition were Protestant and Orthodox—no Catholics at that time. Two years later (after Vatican II had been announced, and personal friendships could stimulate ecumenical relationships on a wider scale), an even more exciting collaboration began between the two friends. Paul’s wife had just invited them to the salon for an after-lunch cup of coffee, when Paul started speaking of his hope of reviving the idea of Protestant pilgrimages to the Holy Land—two of these had been held before the war. René leapt up in excitement—he remembers fearing he would spill his coffee on the carpet—and exclaimed ‘No! not Protestant pilgrimages but ecumenical pilgrimages!’ There were huge difficulties on both sides, but at Easter 1961 the idea came to fruition, with the pilgrimage entitled ‘Protestants and Catholics to the land of the Bible’ and including 39 Catholics and 39 Protestants—equality was important! Common prayer meant Bible reading and the Our Father together in those days; even presence at one another’s liturgical BOOK REVIEW 180 worship would have been unthinkable, and there were no shared hymns. But the voyage was a tremendous success, and everyone wanted a repetition the following year; René’s sister-in-law came back determined to put together a hymnbook ‘for all Christians’ so that they would be able to sing together. The experience led to one of the major works of the Centre Saint-Irénée: the ecumenical pilgrimages that went regularly over the years not only to the Holy Land, but to the surrounding countries—Iraq, Iran, Syria, , then later further afield to Greece and Turkey. And because of his friendly relations with the WCC Fr Beaupère had the good fortune to meet the first Soviet ‘swallows’ who came to make contact with western Christians. In fact, the first pilgrimage he led into the Soviet Union came as early as 1967—part of a larger journey taking in the whole of the old Armenian territory. It is a joy to read the stories that come out of five decades of pilgrimages—pilgrimages that were chiefly about the meeting of persons, church leaders, grass-roots Christians, in diverse situations and with different perspectives. The effects on both the pilgrims and those who welcomed them are incalculable. An entire chapter of the book is devoted to foyers mixtes, or as we have come to call them in English, interchurch families. René was drawn early into the problems posed by mixed marriages by his Protestant pastor friends. In 1963 he and the Lutheran pastor in Lyon, Henry Bruston, began to have monthly meetings with a group of mixed marriage couples, many of them with small children. There was no agenda; to begin with the priest and pastor simply listened to the stories of the couples, horrified at what they had suffered when they got married, when their children were baptised. The couples themselves drew up a short text which became known as the ‘Charter of Lyon’; Fr Beaupère and Pastor Bruston took it to their respective church authorities. It was the beginning of a process in which René felt he was a ‘go-between’, in both directions, for the French bishops and the foyers mixtes. The pastoral care of interchurch families, combined with theological reflection on their situation, became one of the major endeavours of the Centre Saint-Irénée, along with the work of ecumenical catechesis, important for mixed families but also with a far wider influence. After fifty years of hard work, weddings and baptisms have become happy occasions, but the churches have not yet taken the fact of interchurch families’ double participation in the life of both churches seriously, nor integrated it into their mutual 181 ONE IN CHRIST VOL.46 NO.1 relationships. Institutions are very slow to change. Yet Fr Beaupère remains optimistic; he uses the image of the swallow for a third time, recalling an occasion when interchurch family children were sitting on a table, their legs dangling, like swallows on a telegraph line. They were singing lustily together, not distinguishing between ‘Catholic’ and ‘Protestant’ words. ‘The old man that I am now is no longer capable of climbing on a high table to play the part of the swallow announcing the spring of Unity. The children can. I am inclined to trust them, as well as to trust the merciful grace of God for his divided people.’ Has ecumenism a future? The same optimism shines through. The old words are re-vitalised: faith, hope and love, patience, courage, humility, conversion, prayer, prophetic action, discernment. Interfaith dialogue and ecumenism are carefully distinguished, and related to one another. ‘We have travelled together’, and the journey will continue. We are fortunate to have this overview of the past, from René Beaupère’s personal perspective, and the text is enriched by a good number of photographs, indicating how wide his ‘together’ has stretched. Ruth Reardon, Association of Interchurch Families