One in Christ Contents Volume 42 Number 2

ONE IN CHRIST CONTENTS VOLUME 42 NUMBER 2

ARTICLES Hospitality. Leslie Griffiths 229 New Paths for Dialogue: Chiara Lubich’s Ecumenical Legacy. Bernard Leahy 246 Paul Couturier and Maurice Villain: The Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. Frederick Bliss SM & Alois Greiler SM 270 War. John F. Deane 285 The Plight of Iraqi Christians. Suha Rassam 286 Healing the Distorted Face: Doctrinal Reinterpretation(s) and the Christian Response to the Other. Peter Admirand 302 Catholic and Mennonite: A Journey of Healing. Gerald W. Schlabach 318 Being One at Home: Interchurch Families as Domestic Church. Thomas Knieps-Port le Roi 341 Lambeth Indaba 2008 and its Ecumenical Implications. Gregory K. Cameron 360 ‘Growing Together in Unity and Mission’: an Agreed Statement of IARCCUM, 2007. Mary Tanner 371 ‘The Apostolicity of the Church.’ Study Document of the Lutheran-Roman Catholic Commission on Unity. David Carter 382 REPORTS & EVENTS Forty Years of Interchurch Families. Ruth Reardon 400 International Interconfessional Congress of Religious. Nicholas Stebbing CR 407 Fraternal Address to the Synod Bishops. Robert K. Welsh 411 Lourdes Ecumenical Conference. Rowan Williams and Walter Kasper 413 A Journey of Reconciliation at the Tantur Ecumenical Institute. (contd.) Rosemary Kidd 417 Words of the Unknown Soldier. John F. Deane 420

BOOK REVIEWS 421 228 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Editorial

The risks inherent in any attempt neatly to summarise a complex conversation were addressed by the Indaba methodology of the Lambeth Conference (see Gregory Cameron’s article). With this in mind, we hope here simply to indicate the many individual voices to be heard in these pages – an inevitably unsatisfactory ‘listener’s guide’. Leslie Griffiths’s ‘Hospitality’ sets a scene in which the irreducible, individual Other takes centre stage. Profiles follow of the lives and work of two inspired, inspiring pioneers: the all-embracing charism of Chiara Lubich (Brendan Leahy) and the mission of Maurice Villain (Bliss and Greiler). Two pages of this issue present an unusual aspect, in the shape of poems by John F. Deane, which perhaps find words strong enough to stand by Suha Rassam’s ‘Plight of Iraqi Christians’. This catastrophe is mirrored only too clearly in a further reflection on the ‘Tantur Journey of Reconciliation’ (Rosemary Kidd) reported on in the previous issue. Likewise, a note on the International Interconfessional Congress of Religious (Nicholas Stebbing) responds to a previous article on the ecumenical contribution of such communities – an issue we hope to explore further. Both the lived reality of the interchurch family as ‘domestic church’ (Thomas Knieps, Ruth Reardon), and the unique, sometimes painful identity of the interchurch, Bridgefolk individual (Gerald Schlabach), voice an essential contribution to what ‘Church’ means. Peter Admirand reflects on the mutations of Tradition which both enable, and result from dialogue – and observes, as do others, the capacity of dialogue to surprise. David Carter examines the Lutheran-RC Commission’s ‘The Apostolicity of the Church’. And Mary Tanner refocuses the challenge to bishops and people of IARCCUM’s ‘Growing Together in Unity and Mission’. Other voices are heard, welcomed in unfamiliar places. In September last, Rowan Williams joined Walter Kasper at Lourdes – recalling Chiara Lubich’s love for ‘Mary, Mother of Unity’. And in October, non-Catholic ‘fraternal delegates’, including Robert Welsh addressed the world Synod of Bishops in Rome. 229

HOSPITALITY

Leslie Griffiths∗

Hospitality is something more than what you do when an invited guest arrives for dinner. It is a way of seeing the world and of living your life. Such is the theme of this article which began life as an address to the 2008 Glenstal Ecumenical Conference. Hospitality is something that ensues from the way we see (and act towards) other people, even strangers. It is our way of embracing the Other and our capacity to do this provides an epistemological basis for constructing a theology, a philosophy, of hope. What is more, it offers a way of experiencing joy. But it will require a determined effort at self-understanding and the exercise of the will to make progress in an area of activity where we seem culturally conditioned to look after our own interests.

A) The engendering of hope A conference on the theme of hospitality deserves to begin with a working definition. Where better to turn than the Oxford English Dictionary where we find the following: ‘The reception and entertainment of guests or strangers with liberality and good will.’ That’ll do for starters! I think I’m probably going to leave the entertainment of guests in favour of looking at the way we treat strangers. But the definition will definitely serve our purposes. The Chief Rabbi of Great Britain, Sir Jonathan Sacks, has repeatedly made the point that the Jewish scriptures are fairly minimalist in their instruction to love the neighbour whereas, dozens of times, they’re very firm and focused in telling people that they are to receive the stranger in their midst and show him/her hospitality. The true

∗ Leslie Griffiths is a Methodist minister serving at Wesley’s Chapel in London. He is also a Canon of St Paul’s Cathedral and has presented a half-hour weekly radio programme ‘Taking the Tablet’ (a review of the important Roman Catholic weekly) for the last six years. He was President of the Methodist Conference in 1994-5, has written six books as well as numerous articles and chapters for other people’s books. He is a regular broadcaster. In 2004, he was made a Life Peer and sits on the government benches in the House of Lords.

230 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 measure of anyone’s generosity of spirit is not to be found in the way they treat those they love or know or with whom they are familiar. It’s much more the product of their way of receiving strangers. Throughout what follows, the word ‘stranger’ will be interchangeable with the word ‘Other’. The way we treat and deal with the Other is at the heart of anything we might want to show about our understanding (and practice) of hospitality. But let me continue by taking you to an altogether more modest place. I want you to imagine the home I grew up in as a boy. I’m one of two children, we were the sons of a single parent who’d been thrown on the streets by an unforgiving father. Our accommodation was a single room in a builders’ yard – space within which we ate and slept, bathed and did our homework. My mother had worked in a factory and the heaviness of her labour broke her health so that she was obliged to live on benefits. We were among the first to enjoy the fruits of the Welfare State. We had nothing and yet we had everything. I enjoyed a curiously blissful childhood in spite of deprivation and poverty. Every Sunday afternoon, my mother invited an old woman who lived round the corner from us – a Mrs Reidy by name. She was a toothless old thing, a widow, Irish and a Roman Catholic. All those factors made her an oddity in the little homogeneous, parochial Welsh community of my youth. My mother would spread a table where the fare consisted of bread and butter and jam together with a wobbling jelly. Vast quantities of tea were quaffed. Since butter was rationed, this weekly tea party consumed our total allowance. We never saw a jelly at any other time. Within the limits of my mother’s purse, this amounted to a liberality almost beyond imagining. My mother was a very remarkable woman and will keep appearing in this narrative. She had nothing yet she gave everything. A short snatch of a poem by R. S. Thomas could well apply to my mother. She was … a girl from the tip Sheer coal dust The blue in her veins… The ‘blue’ of the poem was the product of a coal mining environment but it carries more than a hint of nobility. Indeed, a total stranger once remarked of my mother (after just an hour of her company) that she was possessed of ‘an aristocracy of the spirit’. GRIFFITHS Hospitality 231

As I’ve reflected on this, I recognise that I’m more interested in how this sense of hospitality and generosity played out on me and my younger brother. I don’t remember any resentment on our part that might have arisen from the fact that this widow woman, so gaunt of face (lantern-jawed) was eating our nice food. It all seemed utterly natural. Sundays meant Mrs Reidy. We waited expectantly for her arrival because that triggered a tea party. Whoopee! One of my friends had a very devout mother. There was always an extra place laid at their home at meal-time. It was a place where no- one sat. It was a reminder, as a sign hanging on the wall immediately above it made clear, that ‘Jesus is the unseen guest at this table’. Incidentally, I noticed in the Guest House at Glenstal the ‘One- Person-Only Room’. Guests are invited to sit in there in one of the two available chairs. The other is left empty for God. In our house, on Sundays, there was always an extra place too. It was occupied by Mrs Reidy. To us, she was Jesus, and we loved her. Now this is a homespun way of beginning what is intended to be a serious contribution to our understanding of hospitality. To us, Mrs Reidy had the characteristics of a neighbour but also of a stranger; she was undoubtedly our guest but there was always something of the ‘Other’ about her. Her background and culture, her religion and her widowed state, plugged into experiences and a personal history that we knew nothing about. Yet something in her plight (or was it her character, or a common history with my mother that pre-dated our knowledge of her?) touched us greatly. As I think back on it now, I recognise that something I would want to call ‘a spark of grace’ jumped across everything that separated us and gave us a sense of togetherness which, for one blessed hour per week, opened our little family to new horizons of experience and (as I shall later argue) of human hope. After many years of preaching about Jesus and proclaiming the Good News of his Kingdom, I’ve had plenty of opportunity to reflect on what I might consider to be the essence of his lifestyle, the secret of his appeal. Very near the centre of all this is an attribute of his character that I want to approach via a word that appears a dozen times in the New Testament. It’s the word σπλάγχνίζομάι [splagchnizomai]. This word appears only in the Synoptic Gospels and, as we’ll see in a moment, always refers either to Jesus himself or a figure in one of his parables 232 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 who seems to embody the character of Jesus. This is a verb and it springs from a root word σπλάγχνον [splagchnon] which means ‘innards’ or ‘guts’ or ‘bowels’. All this is very personal, very physical and very below the waist! It’s most often translated, rather tamely I believe, as ‘showing compassion’ or ‘feeling pity’. Since there’s only a very small number of examples, let me set them out in a line: 1. Mark 1:41. ‘Moved with pity, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched [the leper]…’ 2. Matthew 14:14. ‘He saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them and cured their sick…’ 3. Luke 7:13. ‘When the Lord saw [the widow of Nain], he had compassion for her…’ 4. Mark 6:34. ‘ As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd, and because they were like sheep without a shepherd, he had compassion on them.’ 5. Matthew 15:32. ‘I have compassion for the crowd, they have nothing to eat…’ 6. Mark 8:2. ‘I have compassion for the crowd because they have been with me for three days and have nothing to eat…’ 7. Matthew 9:36. ‘He had compassion on the crowd because they were harassed and helpless…’ 8. Matthew 20:34. ‘Moved with compassion, Jesus touched the eyes [of the two blind men]. Immediately they regained their sight.’ All of these are clearly assessments of the state of mind of Jesus when faced by one crisis or another. They show his compassion – his ability to suffer with another person. There are four other examples and it’s not difficult to trace the connection with Jesus. 1. Mark 9:22. The father of an epileptic boy speaking to Jesus says ‘[the evil spirit] has often cast him into the fire and into the water to destroy him. Have pity on us and help us.’ And then, in three different parables, similarly easy identification can be made. 2. Matthew 18:27. ‘The lord of the slave, out of pity for him, released him and forgave him his debt.’ GRIFFITHS Hospitality 233

3. Luke 10:33. ‘A Samaritan drew near and, when he saw [a man who’d fallen amongst thieves], was moved with pity.’ 4. Luke 15:20. ‘While [the prodigal son] was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion’. These are the only occurrences of the word we are looking at. And they show the remarkable capacity of Jesus, when he sees someone in trouble, to empathise with them. There’s almost a physical reaction to their situation. He sees and is touched to the core, moved to the quick. His heart goes out. He’s gutted at what he sees. There is a wrenching of his stomach. It’s as if he’d been hit in the solar plexus. Their plight hits him hard. These ways of expressing the response of Jesus to the needs of those he saw around him, whether individuals or crowds, are much nearer the root meaning of the verb used in the original Greek. When Jesus sees another person, he shows a profound capacity to feel their pain, to sense their need, to register their vulnerability in his own being, as if it were his pain or need or vulnerability. The capacity to transcend himself, to enter the skin of the person in need, to display sensitivity to their plight, an awareness for the Other, seems to me to be key to any understanding of the character of Jesus and, I believe, continues to be the hallmark of the Christ-like life. Hospitality, understood through this lens, comes to mean far more than inviting someone round for a meal. It has much more to do with entertaining people who cease to be strangers the moment they come within the embrace of the loving host. If offers a welcome not only to those we are at ease with but also to those who might be affirmed and blessed by the hand of friendship which our invitation offers them. And who might turn out to be a blessing to us. I have been greatly influenced in my attempts to understand this concept by two seminal works: I. Hormi Bhabha’s The Location of Culture (Routledge) 1994 II. Edward Said’s Orientalism (Penguin) 1995. Both Bhabha and Said are anxious to probe what is called the ‘post- colonial’ world. Once upon a time, Britain ruled the waves. The sun never set on the British Empire we were told. That’s all over now and we have to deal with a world of migrating peoples in search of security and well-being. Those whom we once ruled in distant lands are now our neighbours. People we once categorised for the sake of 234 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 convenience, inventing words such as ‘Orientalism’ to cover the case, now break out of the boxes into which we put them for convenience sake. As I read Bhabha’s book I found myself making a running index of the terms he was resorting to again and again. The list I constructed runs something like this: beyond, side-by-side, in-between, negotiation, the Third Space, hybridity, the split, mimic-man, displacement. All these words and phrases seemed to suggest to me, in one way or another, the fundamental mixed-upness of contemporary society. Questions of culture and identity are raised with increasing urgency in such circumstances with the twin possibilities of fragmentation and cohesion looming as polar opposites. Said had already ploughed this land (his book appeared originally in 1979). It’s a wonderfully sustained piece of writing – both scholarly and polemical at the same time. He shows relentlessly how British and French imperialism dealt with the new cultures which their ever extending sway brought under their control. Archaeologists, anthropologists, philosophers and sociologists applied massive brain power to ‘sorting out’ the beliefs and cultural practices of the peoples who were now under their rule. Everything was neatly pigeonholed and made available for study. It was the intellectual equivalent of the lepidopterist’s art, the application of chloroform to kill the specimen before pinning it down in a glass case for all to see. Said pointed out with great insistence how this was the British (and French) way of dealing with difference. The Other was othered – kept in its place, fixed within its category, tied down as Gulliver was by the people of Lilliput. What I drew from these two extraordinary pieces of writing was an understanding of the process of dealing with the Other that could be spelled out roughly as follows: I. Exoticising the Other II. Cataloguing the Other III. Embracing the Other. We’re all aware of this process, we’ve all experienced it and, indeed, given it impetus. In the first instance, we respond to multiculturalism simply by admiring its exoticism, loving its food, its carnivals and its colour. Soon, we want to know more about these different kinds of people and we study their beliefs and practices. In the realm of GRIFFITHS Hospitality 235 religion this led to the creation of university departments of ‘comparative religion’. Homi Bhabhar and Edward Said are pushing their readers beyond such limited ways of dealing with otherness. They want recognition of what can only be called the ‘hybridity of culture’. They put forward an idea of culture in permanent transition and incompleteness which maybe embraced without anxiety or nostalgia. All of this presupposes an openness to the Other and a readiness to embrace that Other. I remember once meeting a very wealthy and generous man. He wanted to ‘do something’ for people suffering from HIV/AIDS. At that time I was Chaplain to one of the earliest hospital wards which specialised in the treatment of that condition. I invited the philanthropist to come with me to meet some of the patients. Politely but firmly he refused. He did, however, give me a cheque for a large amount. I was intrigued by someone prepared to be so generous towards suffering humanity who, at the same time, seemed totally unable to meet the people he wanted to help. ‘Embracing the Other’ needs to go a little further than that. A. S. Peake (the eponymous compiler of the famous Peake’s Commentary on the Bible) once wrote a book to which he wanted to give the title ‘Who is offended and I burn not?’ He wanted to use this quotation from St Paul’s writing to illustrate the point I was making earlier about Jesus’s capacity to feel the pain of others. Peake’s publishers thought the title would be cumbersome and that would deter people from buying the book. So it ended up with an entirely different title. It was called instead: Prisoners of Hope. And the link between the two titles, the actual and the intended, is interesting to spell out. Somehow, it is in our ability to feel another’s pain, to sense another’s outrage, to see the world through another person’s eyes, to think outside the box, to embrace the Other in any or all of these senses, that the raw material of hope is to be found. This is the stuff out of which any decent or sustainable social project is to be built. It’s from such possibilities that we can entertain any hopeful prospect of a tomorrow. Nowhere is our ability or capacity to display this readiness to see the world from another’s point of view, to feel another’s pain, to embrace another across the chasm of difference, than in the Churches we all belong to. Both within our Churches and between them, the 236 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 possibilities for exhibiting the Christ-like quality of hospitality are manifold. It’s in our congregational life and in our ecumenical relationships that we can hold ourselves to account on this question. The ways we receive each other, enjoy each other, treat each other and cope with each other will all offer their own evidence. I’m the minister of Wesley’s Chapel, a historic place, built by John Wesley and opened in 1778. Wesley claimed that he looked upon the whole world as his parish. Those words are engraved on the plinth of his statue which dominates the forecourt to the Chapel. And they’ve come home to haunt us! For the vibrant congregation which now meets in the building he put up in the eighteenth century is, indeed, drawn from the four corners of the earth. Thirty-six nations are represented in our congregation with over twenty languages other than English spoken as first languages. We have cultural and social diversity on a grand scale. The joy of such a phenomenon is obvious. So too are the challenges. In this congregation, where we see the whole world in microcosm, we have a laboratory for multiculturalism and a true setting for hospitality. Here we can embrace each other across the breadth of our diversity whilst always seeking to identify the unity that lies beyond difference. Jonathan Sacks, the Chief Rabbi of Great Britain and the Commonwealth, has written a much acclaimed book entitled The Dignity of Difference. In it he makes a plea for due consideration to be given to minority groups within any given society. No doubt, he has in mind his own Jewish community for which he wants breathing space and due recognition. This is a very reasonable expectation. But the Chief Rabbi knows as well as anyone that there will always be a tension between the legitimate and precious characteristics of groups, races, tribes and nations on the one hand and the need to build community relations and a global order on the other. Indeed, he understands fully that the dignity of difference must always fit in alongside the need to transcend difference for the common good. I know that he understands this because he has written as much in the very book whose title I’ve quoted. Or at least, the first edition of that book. His argument rises to sublime heights. ‘God is only partially comprehended by any faith,’ he writes, ‘he is my God but also your God. He is on my side but also on your side. He exists not only in my faith but also in yours.’ Even the briefest reflection on these words GRIFFITHS Hospitality 237 reveals them to be profoundly challenging. Their sentiment is echoed in several other passages. I can only quote one here. God is universal, religions are particular. Religion is the translation of God into a particular language and thus into the life of a group, a nation, a community of faith. In the course of history, God has spoken to mankind in many languages: through Judaism to Jews, Christianity to Christians, Islam to Muslims. Only such a God is truly transcendental – greater not only than the natural universe but also than the spiritual universe articulated in any single faith, any specific language of human sensibility… only such a worldview could reconcile the particularity of cultures with the universality of the human condition.1 Nothing could be clearer than that. But these words offended some of Dr Sacks’s fellow Jews. Their outcry resulted in the Chief Rabbi having to re-write parts of his book. The words I’ve quoted above were among the passages eliminated in the book’s second edition. And there will always be people who prefer to stay in the womb, to see difference as a self-justifying objective, to prefer to remain within the known community looking out across its boundaries at the wicked and different world outside. I began this section with my mother; let me end with her too. I remember one nasty November evening in my childhood. The wind was high and it was driving the rain almost horizontally across our little village. A dirty evening. We were cosily gathered around our little fire when there was a knock on the door. No one should have been out in such gruesome weather. When my mother opened the door, she found two nuns there looking like drowned penguins. They wore full habit in those days and they were drenched to the skin. ‘Come in darlings’, my mother said and in they duly came. We found chairs for them in front of our little fire and my mother busied herself with making a cup of tea. We had some good conversation even though their thick Irish brogue meant we had to guess at half the words they uttered. It transpired that they were out collecting money for the construction of a new Roman Catholic Church in our village. The existing one was a tin hut and the Catholic community had set its heart on something better than that. In the end, as my mother took them towards the door, she found half-a-crown and put it into their

1 Jonathan Sacks, The Dignity of Difference (Continuum, 2002, first impression), 55. 238 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 hands. Just before they parted she said: ‘I never asked you who you were, what organisation you belong to.’ ‘Oh,’ said one of the nuns, ‘we’re Little Sisters of the Assumption.’ I shall never forget either the startled look on my mother’s face or the extraordinary remark that she then came up with. ‘There’s nice darlings,’ she said, ‘but tell me something, what exactly is it that you assume?’ I’ve laughed again and again at the memory of that little moment from my childhood. It’s another example of my mother’s capacity, without asking anyone to justify themselves, to entertain them and even to support them financially. She had nothing but she gave everything. And all that differentiated those two Irish nuns from our family of lapsed Baptists was suddenly reduced to nothing and, at the level of our common humanity, we enjoyed a moment that has continued to enrich us ever since.

B) The experience of joy The Church wasn’t really part of my childhood. And yet it was! How come? My mother (clearly a major figure in this narrative) had little time for the Church. Every week she completed her football coupons (the treble chance and the three draws were her favourites), she loved her cigarettes, every now and again she put a bet – always ‘each way’ – on a horse, she indulged in an occasional tipple and she simply loved her weekly bingo sessions. ‘And to top it all’, she’d say ‘I’m divorced.’ She was convinced that, in any of our village chapels, the preacher would have plenty of material to use against her. ‘I’d be condemned on all counts,’ she’d sigh, ‘why should I give the preachers the pleasure?’ So she never went to chapel. Yet she sent us – me and my brother. It was a childminding exercise more than a religious duty; it gave my mother a break from the hardships of her factory life. She worked 6½ days every week in the local tinplate factory and it was hard manual labour. On Sunday mornings she liked to put her feet up and enjoy a cigarette. It was my success in the Eleven Plus exam that changed the course of my life. My Sunday School teachers and the members of the chapel – all working class people, recognised that my mother would not be able to afford to send me to the grammar school. So they put some money aside to help her. They helped with the cost of uniform and various bits and pieces of equipment. Naturally, I was very touched GRIFFITHS Hospitality 239 and remained in the Sunday School much longer than I would otherwise have done. But it was out of loyalty to these generous people rather than as an expression of my faith. As a growing boy, I saw enough of chapel-going to turn me off for life. It was all so formal and solemn. People seemed to wear frets and frowns on Sunday – their faces seemed etched in vinegar. And their stance was generally denunciatory. They seemed to love having things they could condemn. Religion seemed so miserable to my youthful mind. Later, I was to discover William Blake’s ‘The garden of love’. It epitomises my feelings at this time perfectly. I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen; A Chapel was built in the midst Where I used to play on the green. And the gates of this Chapel were shut And ‘Thou shalt not,’ writ over the door; So I turned to the Garden of Love That so many sweet flowers bore; And I saw it was fillèd with graves, And tombstones where flowers had been; And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds And binding with briars my joys and desires. When I left home for university, I reckoned I’d paid my debts. I’d done a stint as a Sunday School teacher and I’d been generally helpful around the Chapel. That all belonged to my childhood. Now I’d come of age. I wasn’t going to let religion infantilise me. The world was now beckoning me and stirring my curiosity. Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive; And to be young was very heaven! Since those days, much has happened to change my perspective. I found faith and it’s been fundamental to my development and growth ever since. I’ve become an ordained minister of the Church and preach the gospel with conviction and with passion. And yet I’ve maintained a deep-seated scepticism about the Church. The impressions I formed in my childhood and youth have never quite been dissipated. I still notice the Church’s capacity to stifle joy; I’m still alarmed at its ‘control freakery’; and I’m constantly amazed at its ability to turn wine 240 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 into water, grace into law. All of this seems at odds with the Jesus with whom I’d become familiar. The Prodigal Son comes home and is welcomed. We’re told there’s joy in heaven because someone who was lost has been found. Joy in heaven – that’s it. No pettifogging or disputatious reception. No judgment. Just a party. That’s the note that I hear sounded in the New Testament again and again. The Good Shepherd leaves the 99 sheep which are safely accounted for. He goes out in search of the one lost sheep and, when he finds it, he brings it home rejoicing. How many lost sheep does he bring home? A leper is touched and made whole; a mad man is clothed and returned to his right mind; a woman’s chronic bleeding is stopped; the blind are given their sight; the lame walk; the hungry are fed; the poor are given respect; the marginalized are brought centre-stage. One lost sheep after another. Joy in heaven again and again. The transformative power that flows from the personality and the presence of Jesus is truly amazing. Yet all the ‘religious’ people can do is tut tut, finger wag, carp and criticise. Across the ages, such people have wanted to ask the same searching and critical questions of Jesus in one form or another. Let me put the age-old question in a modern form. In the Bible a question was put to Jesus (John 9) by the religious authorities of his day. It was stimulated by the plight of a man who’d been born blind. In today’s world the same question might have been put thus: ‘Jesus, who sinned, this man or his parents that he was born gay?’ Jesus answered: ‘Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born the way he is so that God’s work might be revealed in him.’ Good old Jesus. He doesn’t simply rebut the implied criticism but actually looks for a positive way of presenting the person whom others are so content to criticise. And what about the way he dealt with the man of another faith – the Roman centurion? The dancers of death, the masters of denunciation, the tight-lipped, the frozen-hearted brigade were all present to criticise, to protest and to pour scorn. All Jesus had done was to help the centurion with his problem. He turned to his critics and said (in one of the most devastating put-downs to be found within the pages of the Bible): ‘Truly, I tell you, in no-one in Israel have I found such faith. I tell you, many will come from east and west and will feast with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven while the GRIFFITHS Hospitality 241 heirs to the kingdom will be thrown into outer darkness where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ Now there’s an approach to inter-faith dialogue for you! Or even Christian ecumenism. Jesus holds up the person who belongs to the other group as a model from which those within the establishment can learn important lessons. The message of Jesus is always so positive and up-lifting. He always seems so ready and able to add value to life. The thrust of his ministry seems so predicated upon joy. The word ‘joy’ keeps on popping up in this part of my narrative. And there it was again, at the time when I was searching for faith, in the title of a little book by C. S. Lewis: Surprised by Joy. This is Lewis’s 1955 classic in which he recounts the events of his youth and the significant steps he took towards embracing the Christian faith. It comes to its conclusion as the young Lewis knelt in his Magdalen College room in 1929 at the age of 31. He’d struggled hard against this moment and records what is possibly the most laconic account of anyone’s conversion. ‘I must have been’ he wrote, ‘the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England.’ I too submitted and opened my heart to God, the God I felt I’d met through Jesus, after a long struggle. I was in my early twenties before I felt ready to let him have his way with me. I was baptised during my undergraduate days and my whole life changed. I was, indeed, ‘surprised by joy’. I remember both the joy and the surprise! My own way to faith led me to understand the difference between those doctrines of grace put forward by John Calvin of Geneva and Jacob Arminius of Amsterdam. Calvin had wanted to give total sovereignty to God and had formulated an understanding of grace consistent with this. It was in God’s gift to bless those whom he wanted to bless and to withhold his blessing from those he did not wish to bless. God chose those whom he wanted to form his ‘elect’. The doctrine of pre-destination flows inevitably from this basic insight. It’s something that I found repellant at the beginning of my life of faith and which I find equally gruesome now. Arminius by contrast, put forward the idea of ‘prevenient’ grace. That is, God was to be found everywhere and in all the circumstances of our lives. He was certainly to be found beyond the confines of the community of believers who gather in their chapels or churches or cathedrals around the world. The operation of God’s grace is not coterminous with the Church. It is available (and offered) to all. We can find him in 242 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 unexpected places and should, in fact, be looking for him at all times. We need to enjoy ‘heightened awareness’ – the quality which poets are blessed with. I quoted Blake earlier in this narrative. Let me quote him again here. He wrote about this capacity to be surprised by joy, to become aware of God in the most unexpected places. He wrote how it was possible To see a universe in a grain of sand Or a world in a wild flower; To take infinity in the palm of your hand, Or sense eternity in a single hour. From my earliest days as a Christian, this has been the path I’ve tried to tread. It led to the writing of my little book Voices from the Desert in 2003. Within its pages, I looked at the work of a variety of people who had been commonly treated with suspicion by the Church. I tried to suggest that it might indeed be possible: • to hear a cry for help in the writings of Allen Ginsberg; • or a plea to be heard in Eldridge Cleaver’s Soul on Ice; • to sense the joy in the poetry of Maya Angelou; • to be moved by the spiritual longing of the songs of the Manic Street Preachers; • to find a deep and searching faith in the art and life of Andy Warhol; • to walk expectantly with George Harrison in his search for God. In a word, I tried to examine the writings of people considered by the Church to be outsiders or charlatans, disordered souls or downright wicked people. I tried hard to hear and sense in people the Church has sent into outer darkness the beating of the heart, the racing of a pulse, the yearning of a soul. And I found it again and again. I have been repeatedly surprised by joy as I picked up the strain of hope or prayer in the bleakest of writings and the grimmest of lives. Let me give just one example. In the 1960s, the musical ‘Hair’ was widely criticised by Christian leaders. It was a show being put on in the West End of London where naked people would be on stage. The Church, in its only too predictable neurosis at all things related to ‘carnal excess’, was outraged. But just consider the following two verses from one of the songs from ‘Hair’: Where do I go? Follow my heartbeat. GRIFFITHS Hospitality 243

Follow the river. Where do I go? Where do I go? Follow my hand. Follow the gulls Where will they lead me? Where is the something, And will I ever Where is the someone discover why That tells me why I live and die, I live and die? I live and die? The Church is too often pathetic in these matters. It preoccupies itself with authority and order, it seeks with manic intensity to keep things within bounds or under wraps or subject to hierarchical control. As if God could be thus cabined, cribbed or confined! I mentioned earlier two books that had greatly influenced me and now I want to bring forward two others: I. The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky II. The Grey Eminence by Aldous Huxley. The incident of the Grand Inquisitor: a powerful man who imposes discipline in the name of the Church and conducts purges and pogroms on its behalf yet who seems unable to recognise the Lord of the Church when Jesus stands before him. The Church is more driven by a ‘secular’ agenda – it seeks to get bigger and richer and more powerful. Dostoevsky’s novel is a sermon. And like all good sermons it has a text. This is drawn from St John’s gospel: ‘unless a grain of wheat fall into the ground and die, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.’ The actual practice of the Church is too often concerned with self-aggrandisement rather than self-abasement. Aldous Huxley, meanwhile, puts forward a fascinating argument in a historical novel based on the early years of Louis XIII of France – a time when Cardinal Richelieu acted as regent for the young king. Huxley argues that Richelieu succeeded in bringing about a change in the devotional patterns that had prevailed before his time. Piety moved away from a consideration of Christ in glory, the resurrection of the Lord, towards a stultifying and stifling obsession with his suffering. This gloomy agenda created an atmosphere out of which the imposition of suffering on others – through a denial of their rights or the pursuit of war, for example – could logically be shown to follow. Curiously, I’ve been preparing this narrative during the time when Cardinal Darío Castríllon Hoyos, President of the Pontifical Commission Ecclesia Dei has been visiting London. We’ve seen 244 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 pictures of him wrapped in red silk as he prepares to preside at a Pontifical High Mass at Westminster Cathedral in London. He was, of course, about to celebrate the ‘old rite’, the Tridentine rite with its Latin liturgy, the priest whose back is turned to the congregation and a plethora of ritual detail that would surely confound most modern worshippers. When Elena Curti, reporting for The Tablet on 21 June 2008, interviewed Cardinal Castríllon she suggested that this new emphasis on the old rite might feel like a step backwards. Here is the Cardinal’s reply: Progress is important, but what does it mean? Today, for me, progress is discovering the meaning of contemplation. This is progress. A person who has no time for silence is a poor person. A person who has no time for contemplation is poor also. The Holy Mass is sacrifice. We have to look at Golgotha, at Calvary, the Cross of Christ. When we have sacrifice in Christ we feel free from sin, we are redeemed, then we are happy and when we celebrate the Resurrection of Christ we are happy to gather together and to celebrate, but first the sacrifice, second the community aspect of the meal. There it is. From one Cardinal to another, from Richelieu to Castríllon, this concentration on the suffering of Christ as the necessary precondition for understanding both the Resurrection and also the social outworkings of Christ’s sacrifice. The ‘contemplation’ Castríllon is advocating is intensely focussed upon Christ’s sacrifice. Now, without wanting to airbrush the passion and death of Christ out of the gospel narrative, I cannot personally view the Cross other than from a post-Easter perspective. My heart is filled with joy that the sacrifice of Christ, his life offered once and for all on the Cross, has filled the world (and my heart) with joy. My contemplation, therefore, even of the suffering and dying Christ, is the contemplation of a person who knows that the world has been radically changed by the transformative energies released by the risen Christ. I often wish that my Roman Catholic friends could be helped to see what it means to have their Church built on Peter – • Peter, who got things wrong as well as right; • Peter, the married man; • Peter, who acted on instinct as well as from precedent or tradition; • Peter, who knew he wasn’t Christ but who followed Christ. GRIFFITHS Hospitality 245

I want, with the Reverend Eli Jenkins from Dylan Thomas’s Under Milk Wood, to be able to see good in all things and in all people. The Reverend Eli Jenkins, when he’d just heard the prostitute Polly Garter singing about the men she had known, was moved to exclaim: ‘Praise the Lord, for we are a musical nation.’ To perceive beauty and to recognise love in the sensuous song of a prostitute is so at odds with the censorious attitudes of Welsh non-conformism at its worst. But it rings so true. And it sounds so necessary. Let me end with another quote from Dylan Thomas. Again it’s from the mouth of the Reverend Eli Jenkins: We are not wholly bad or good Who live our lives under Milk Wood, And thou, O Lord, wilt be the first To see our best side, not our worst. If only we could see the world we live in as invested with hope and joy; if only we could see hospitality as an activity that brings the Other into our midst and turns a stranger into a friend; if only, we could open up our hearts, our religious traditions, our altars and Communion tables, our homes to those we currently strive so energetically to keep out; then we might begin to see a new world coming to birth in the engendering of hope and the experience of joy. 246 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

NEW PATHS FOR DIALOGUE: CHIARA LUBICH’S ECUMENICAL LEGACY

Brendan Leahy∗

Chiara Lubich, founder of the Focolare Movement, who died on March 14th, 2008 will be remembered not least for her commitment to promoting unity among Christians. She also visited the United Kingdom and Ireland on several occasions. In this article, the author offers an initial reflection on how the Focolare Movement engages in ecumenical dialogue, its methodology as well as its theological and spiritual principles. In doing so he points to elements of Chiara Lubich’s ecumenical legacy.

It was fitting that the last honorary doctorate Chiara Lubich received just weeks before she concluded her earthly journey was conferred by Liverpool Hope University. On that occasion, the University President, Professor Gerald John Pillay explained it was in recognition, inter alia, of her contribution to the unity of Christians of different denominations to which the University strives in its own mission. Chiara Lubich was indeed, as Archbishop Rowan Williams commented some months later at a memorial service in her honour, ‘a woman of unity’.2 In this article I propose firstly to outline the emergence of ecumenism in her life story and in the history of the movement she founded. Secondly, I will survey some of the significant developments to date. Thirdly, I will indicate key spiritual and theological principles

∗ Brendan Leahy, professor of Systematic Theology in St. Patrick’s College, Maynooth is a member of the Irish Inter-Church Meeting, secretary of the Advisory Committee on Ecumenism of the Irish Bishops’ Conference and editor of Inter-Church Relations: Developments and Perspectives (Dublin: Veritas, 2008). He is also a member of the Focolare Movement’s study centre and in 2000 published The Marian Profile in the Ecclesiology of Hans Urs von Balthasar (London, New City).

2 On the Hope University honorary doctorate see New City 38 (2008/march), 4-8 and on the memorial service in London see Mariapoli 25 (2008/8-9), 4-5. LEAHY New Paths for Dialogue: Chiara Lubich 247 that guided her engagement in ecumenism. Fourthly, I’ll describe briefly the movement’s ecumenical ‘methodology’ and then conclude by proposing features of Chiara Lubich’s ecumenical legacy to the Church of Christ to which she committed herself so passionately.

1) The Emergence of Ecumenism in the Focolare Movement Born in Trent, northern Italy, a city that speaks of division sealed during the Reformation, Chiara Lubich’s story and the Focolare Movement that came to life around her in the context of World War II can be described as an ecumenical event.3 And yet she often recounted how she had no idea that ecumenism would be part of the movement. Not surprisingly since Catholics from the region of Trent were known for their catholic fervour at a time when the Catholic Church showed few signs of openness to ecumenism.4 In Italy, it was primarily Communists who used the word ‘unity’; for Catholics it was a suspicious word. Nevertheless, the theme of unity was central from the very beginning of the Movement. Then a young teacher, Chiara Lubich and her companions, reading the Gospel by candlelight in the darkness of an air raid shelter, came upon John’s Gospel chapter seventeen, the prayer for unity. It was, they recall, as if the words of that page were lit up from within. Though only in their late teens and early twenties and with no theological training, they were struck by those words. They felt they were born to help contribute to their realization. In retrospect one can discern the first effects of a new charism coming to life providing a light that both fascinated them and guided them in their reading and living out of Scripture. In a letter written in the early 1940s Chiara Lubich writes:

3 For an introduction to the history, developments and spirituality of the movement see Michel Vandeleene (ed.), Chiara Lubich: Essential Writings, Spirituality, Dialogue, Culture (London: New City, 2007); Jim Gallagher, A Woman’s Work: Chiara Lubich (London: HarperCollins, 1997); Franca Zambonini, Chiara Lubich: A Life for Unity (London: New City, 1992). On the Council of Trent, see Erwin Iserloh, Joseph Glazik and Hubert Jedin (eds.), trans. Anselm Biggs and Peter W. Becker, History of the Church. Vol. V: Reformation and Counter Reformation (London: Burns & Oates, 1980), 456-98. 4 On a brief history of Catholic ecumenism see Jeffrey Gros, Eamon McManus and Ann Riggs, Introduction to Ecumenism (New York/Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1998), 28-32. 248 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Look, I am a person passing through this world. I have seen many beautiful and good things and I have always been attracted only by them. One day (one indefinable day) I saw a light. It appeared to me as more beautiful than the other beautiful things, and I followed it. I realized it was the Truth.5 The Truth is Jesus Christ (John 14:6), the love of God made flesh. He is light and it was his prayer for unity, his last will and testament that became deeply etched on these young girls’ minds and hearts. But what was unity? It was sensed firstly as a call to witness to and promote in the world a journey to God together, being ‘one heart and soul’ (see Acts 4:32). In a way that is remarkable for her young age, it was also understood in a deep theological and ecclesiological sense. From early on unity meant nothing less for Chiara and her companions than to ‘live the life of the Trinity’.6 Piero Coda, president of the Italian Theologians’ Association has written on how Trinitarian love became the pattern and dynamic thrust of their human existence and on how they viewed it as a novelty to be lived out in its ecclesial, social and cultural expressions and at every level of human life, personal and communal, with all the necessary consequences.7 In one of Chiara Lubich’s writings that dates back again to the 1940s we read: The more we are perfected in unity, the more we acquire the virtue of the other (‘All that is yours is mine’), in such a way that we are all one, each the other, each Jesus. We are many equal persons, but distinct, because the virtues in us are dressed in the characteristic virtue that forms our own personality. We mirror the life of the Trinity where the Father is distinct from the Son and the Spirit, while still containing in himself the Son and the Spirit. The same is true of the Spirit, who contains in himself both the Father and the Son, and the Son, who contains in himself both the Father and the Holy Spirit.8 As mentioned previously, notwithstanding this emphasis on unity, ecumenism as such was not however on their horizon. In 1950 the French Jesuit and ecumenist, Charles Boyer enquired as to whether

5 Chiara Lubich, La Dottrina Spirituale (Rome: Città Nuova, 2001), 31. 6 This phrase is taken from John Paul II’s Apostolic Letter, At the Beginning of the New Millennium (Novo Millennio Ineunte), 29, but was current among the first focolarini from the earliest times of the movement. 7 See Piero Coda, ‘Il carisma dell’unità di Chiara Lubich e la sua incidenza ecumenica,’ Nuova Umanità 16 (1994): 17-44, at 19-22. 8 Vandeleene, Essential Writings, 109. LEAHY New Paths for Dialogue: Chiara Lubich 249 the movement was interested in ecumenism, a question to which Chiara answered sincerely ‘no’. As she herself commented years later such a response shows how little she programmed the developments in the movement: ‘the plan for this movement was written in heaven; it’s not a human work and its history often confirms this.’9 The lack of an explicit ecumenical input at the beginning does not mean the new movement was not already having an ecumenical impact. As Yves Congar has written, ‘every time we progress in a Gospel sense, doing things more perfectly, or every time we try to avoid those mistakes made prior to the fatal occurrence of the big splits, we are curing the wounds of the Christian body, we are giving life and vigour to the movement that is working for unity.’10 The man who set up the meeting between Chiara Lubich and Charles Boyer was to become an important instrument in the emergence of ecumenical dialogue in the Focolare’s history. Igino Giordani (1894-1980), a renowned Italian scholar and ecumenist, politician and author, had met the then twenty-eight year old Chiara Lubich in 1948 and was immediately attracted by her evangelical spirituality. His cause of beatification is currently in process. Keenly aware of ecumenical developments within the wider Church horizon, Giordani glimpsed ecumenical possibilities in the communitarian spirituality she was promoting.11

9 See her address on the occasion of the conferring of an honorary doctorate in sociology from the University of Lublin, Nuova Umanità 105-106 (1996): 313- 26, at 321. 10 Yves Congar, ‘Introduzione al Decreto sull’ecumenismo del Concilio Vaticano II’ in Garrone-Dumont-Congar, La Chiesa. Le Chiese Orientali. L’Ecumenismo (Rome: Paoline, 1966), 229-230. 11 Having been declared a Servant of God the official process of his beatification and canonisation began in 2004. For biographical detail see his diary entries written by him in English from 1927 to 1951, Diary of Fire (London: New City, 1981). See also Edwin Robertson’s biography, The Fire of Love: A Life of Igino Giordani ‘Foco’ (London: New City, 1989) where in the introduction Dr Robert Runcie comments that Giordani’s ‘vision and critical intelligence contributed effectively to the practical implementation of the original ideals of Chiara Lubich in the form of an ever expanding fellowship’ (viii). See also Tommaso Sorgi, Un’anima di fuoco: Profilo di Igino Giordani (Rome: Città Nuova, 2003). The address of the Igino Giordani Centre website is . 250 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Informal contacts between members of the Movement and members of other churches began to exist during the 1950s, but it was not until 1961 that an earnest dialogue actually opened up after some Evangelical-Lutherans heard Chiara Lubich speak in Darmstadt, Germany about the spirituality of unity. They were struck by her emphasis (unusual it seemed to them then for Catholics) on the Word put into practice. Out of that initial encounter, many more conversations took place and so in the same year she established a secretariat in Rome for the unity of Christians called Centro Uno with Giordani as its director, a role he continued in until his death in 1980. The ecumenical network quickly expanded. In 1961 the Anglican Canon Bernard Pawley came into contact with the Movement, inviting Chiara to England. Soon many Anglican ministers and lay people were visiting the centre in Rome. Over the years she was to meet with representatives of the Church of England (before she died Chiara had met up with all the Archbishops of Canterbury from Archbishop Fisher to Rowan Williams). It was Archbishop Michael Ramsey who in 1967 encouraged her to work in building up contacts and share spiritual fraternity with Anglicans.12 Relations were also established with Reformed pastors in Herrliberg in Männedorf in Switzerland. Soon other significant figures on the ecumenical landscape were in contact with the Focolare such as Brother Roger of Taizé, Bishop Hermann Dietzfelbinger, Evangelical-Lutheran bishop of Bavaria in Germany, and Bishop Johannes Hanselmann, president of the Lutheran World Federation. A particularly noteworthy chapter in the emergence of the Movement’s ecumenical dialogue was the vibrant fraternal relationship that Chiara established with the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople, Athenagoras I.13 In 1967 he invited her to visit him. It was to be the first of twenty-five meetings. The background here was the historical contacts and meetings between Pope Paul VI and Patriarch Athenagoras. The relationship between Chiara and the Patriarch was one of profound communion. He liked to say to her that living the spirituality of unity would speed up ‘the hour of the one

12 See Joan P. Back, Il Contributo del Movimento dei Focolari alla Koinonia Ecumenica: una spiritualità del nostro tempo al servizio dell’unità (Rome: Città Nuova, 1988), 181-82 13 See Zambonini, A Life for Unity, 118-20; Gallagher, A Woman’s Work, 130-34. LEAHY New Paths for Dialogue: Chiara Lubich 251 chalice’.14 Subsequently, warm relations were also maintained with Patriarch Demetrius I and the current Patriarch, Bartholomew I, who was one of the last people to visit the Focolare founder in hospital in Rome just days before she died.15 Soon the Movement was welcomed also by members of other Oriental churches and dialogue developed with Syro-Orthodox, Copts, Ethiopians, Armenians and Assyrians. With the Catholic Church’s official entrance into the Ecumenical Movement at the Second Vatican Council, Catholic authorities recognised the potential of the Movement’s contribution to ecumenism. Cardinal Augustin Bea, then president of the Secretariat for Christian Unity knew and appreciated the movement’s work and offered helpful advice.16 His successor, Cardinal Willebrands, speaking at the opening of a Focolare Centre for Dialogue in Baak, Holland, remarked that, ‘the spirituality, in its deepest inspiration gives a significant contribution to re-establishing union of all Christians. In a certain sense, the Movement is taking to heart the large movement towards unity and supporting it.’17 Visiting the Focolare Movement’s international centre in 1984, Pope John Paul II underlined and encouraged the ‘very fruitful contacts’ that by then were maturing in the Focolare within the field of ecumenical dialogue.18 He was echoing a recognition that was being voiced elsewhere too. In 1977, for instance, Chiara Lubich was awarded the Templeton Prize for Progress in Religion. In 1981 she was awarded the ‘Cross of the Order of St. Augustine of Canterbury’ from

14 See Piero Coda’s introduction ‘The Spirituality of Unity in the Christian Vocation’ in Michel Vandeleene, Essential Writings, xxi-xxx, at xxvii. See also ‘Atenagora mi ha detto “Paolo VI è il vostro leader”’, Città Nuova (1972/3): 10- 12 and ‘Il mio ultimo incontro con Atenagora,’ Città Nuova (1972/14), 10-14. 15 Alexander Men’ of the Russian Orthodox Church also knew of the movement and had read its literature. See Enzo Fondi and Michele Zanzucchi, Un Popolo nato dal Vangelo: Chiara Lubich e i Focolari (Milan: San Paolo, 2003), 369-71. 16 The biblical scholar, Cardinal Bea (1881-1968) was a leading figure in the work for unity of Christians. See Bernard Leeming (ed.), Augustin Cardinal Bea: The Unity of Christians (London: Chapman, 1963). 17 Cardinal Johannes Willebrands, Address at the Opening of the Centre for Dialogue, Nieuwe Stad 10 (1983): 12. 18 See Insegnamenti di Giovanni Paolo II 1984, vol. VII/2 (Vatican City, 1985), 226. 252 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Archbishop Robert Runcie (later she was to be awarded the Gold Cross by Archbishop Carey in 1996) and in 1984 she received ‘The Byzantine Cross’ from the Ecumenical Patriarch Dimitrios I. 2) Significant Developments By the 1980s ecumenism had clearly become an essential dimension of the Movement and was explicitly expressed as such in the Movement’s Statutes that recognised the presence in the community of many from other churches who had taken on a commitment to live the Movement’s spirituality.19 Indeed, in some cases, there were also now members of churches, other than the Catholic Church who were living in Focolare house communities around the world. A joint centre of Lutherans and Catholics was established in Ottmaring near Augsburg in Bavaria in 1965 and another of Anglicans and Catholics in Welwyn Garden City in the United Kingdom. The Movement’s periodicals published in different editions throughout the world began to carry articles regularly on ecumenical themes. And from 1981 onwards, ecumenical schools were organised by the Movement in England and Germany, Switzerland and Italy as well as in North and South America and in the Middle East. The relationship between the Focolare and the World Council of Churches also developed. The Focolare founder herself was invited to the Council in 1967, 1982 and 2002. The then secretary general, Konrad Raiser, pointed out during the 2002 visit that what linked the Movement and the Council was the Focolare’s ability to translate a spirituality of unity into a new form of co-existence in daily life with implications in economics, politics and formation of communities as all of this was close to the WCC agenda.20 In 1982 at the request of Pope John Paul an international meeting of bishops, friends of the Focolare Movement, was held for the first time and was to become an annual event thereafter. A significant contribution was given to this development by the late bishop of Aachen, Klaus Hemmerle (1929-1994) who had been a member of the

19 The Statutes have been approved most recently in their revised form by the Holy See in 2007. 20 See Chiara Lubich, Dialogo è Vita (Rome: Città Nuova, 2007) forthcoming in English translation by New City press, London. LEAHY New Paths for Dialogue: Chiara Lubich 253

Movement since the mid ’50s and who played a key role in other important aspects of the life of the Movement.21 Throughout the past twenty years the Movement’s ecumenical commitment has continued to grow both internally in the Movement and externally in collaboration with other charismatic and free church communities and institutes. Of particular note is the initiative ‘Together for Europe’ that is bringing together Catholic, Protestant and Orthodox movements.22 Cardinal Kasper has called it an experience of a ‘spiritual network’ to be found in movements that are becoming one of the ‘new and promising forms of dialogue’.23 3) Spiritual and Theological Principles At this point we can ask: what is it that motivates the Focolare Movement’s commitment to ecumenism? An immediate answer is the Gospel spirituality of the movement with its typical communitarian focus, cardinal points and expressions.24 The Movement, expression of a charism, is like a branch grafted onto the ancient trunk of the Church’s experience and doctrine, helping it flower anew. Accordingly, it is both traditional and yet creative in an original perspective on the once-and-for-all revelation of Jesus Christ. Increasingly as the years went by it was Chiara Lubich’s conviction and the belief of many others that this new spirituality was ecumenical, a spirituality of reconciliation, a way offered to the Church by the Spirit as a contribution to ecumenical endeavour.

21 See Wolfgang Bader and Wilfried Hagemann, Klaus Hemmerle-Grundlinien eines Lebens (Munich: Neue Stadt, 2000); Matthias Fenski, Klaus Hemmerle und die Ökumene: Weggemeinschaft mit dem dreieinen Gott (Munich: Ferdinand Schöningh, 2002); Hubertus Blaumeiser and Helmut Sievers (eds.), Chiesa-Comunione: Paolo VI and Giovanni Paolo II ai Vescovi amici del Movimento dei Focolari (Rome: Città Nuova, 2002). 22 The proceedings of these meetings have been published in English as Together for Europe (London: New City, 2004 and 2007). 23 See address by Cardinal Kasper to the Meeting of the College of Cardinals on 23 November 2007: (accessed 18 October 2008). 24 See Joan P. Back, Il Contributo del Movimento dei Focolari alla Koinonia Ecumenica: una spiritualità del nostro tempo al servizio dell’unità (Rome: Città Nuova, 1988). 254 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Spiritual renewal after all, in the words of Vatican II, is the ‘soul of the ecumenical movement’.25 Chiara spoke on this topic when invited to address the second European Assembly in Graz in 1997 on the theme of a spirituality of reconciliation.26 To describe the spirituality of the Focolare, Chiara often drew on the image of a coin with on one side the word of the cross (1 Cor. 1:19) and abandonment (Mark 15:34; Matt. 27:46) and on the other the prayer of Jesus to the Father, may they all be one (John 17:21) and in between all of Scripture. It is these two elements that form the parameter for an intellectual-theological and existential-ecclesial penetration of Gospel. From the beginning, indeed, the interpretation of John 17:20-23 moved from a more vertical perspective to a more communitarian approach.27 And the key for this shift was the focus on Jesus Crucified and Forsaken. Encounter with the spirituality of unity provoked (and continues to do so) in those who adhere sincerely and deeply to it a true ‘metánoia’. Baptism is rediscovered resulting in renewed personal, ecclesial and social life. A new desire for unity animates those in contact. The words of Ut Unum Sint, 9 resonate in this regard: ‘to believe in Christ means to desire unity; to desire unity means to desire the Church; to desire the Church means to desire the communion of grace which corresponds to the Father's plan from all eternity. Such is the meaning of Christ's prayer.’ Those who begin a journey of conversion and spiritual growth become committed to living and working so that their Church may be renewed in a deeper conformity with the plan Jesus Christ has for it. A new union with God-Trinity and, in him, ‘Trinitarian’ unity with brothers and sisters is experienced and is increasingly desired. Among the various points of the spirituality, two stand out for their ecumenical significance. The first is the verse ‘where two or three are

25 See the Vatican Council’s Decree on Ecumenism, Unitatis Redintegratio, 8; and ‘Chiara Lubich, "A Spirituality of Unity within Diversity"’ in Cardinal Walter Kasper (ed.), Searching for Christian Unity: 40 Years of Unitatis Redintegratio (New York: New City, 2007), 190-210. 26 See Chiara Lubich ‘Una spiritualità per la riconciliazione,’ Nuova Umanità 19 (1997): 543-56. 27 See Jesús Castellano Cervera’s commentary on this shift in his introduction to Chiara Lubich, Unity and Jesus Forsaken (New York: New City, 1985), 7-22. LEAHY New Paths for Dialogue: Chiara Lubich 255 gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them.’ (Matt. 18:20)28 Jesus promised: ‘I am with you always, to the end of the age.’ (Matt. 28:20) But for Chiara and her companions it was not enough to believe this as a doctrine. They felt called to do their part to set free his presence in the world: to live united in his name (Matt. 18:20), putting into practice that will of his which sums up all others: ‘Love one another as I have loved you.’ (John 15:12) It was not without a charismatic impulse that they focussed on ‘Jesus in the midst’ but it is of course a theme found in the biblical, patristic and theological- spiritual traditions.29 For Chiara and her companions it was not a spiritualistic emotion but an experience of faith. They came to experience how in living out the Gospel of mutual love, the Risen Christ comes to dwell among us as Emmanuel, God-with-us.30 And with this new experience of God among them, their lives became, as it were, ‘trinitized’.31 In her writings Chiara Lubich presents Jesus in the midst as the One who forms ‘living cells’ of the mystical body. Speaking at an ecumenical meeting of bishop friends of the movement in 2003, she commented that ‘we must continuously create these living cells of the Mystical Body of Christ that are the brothers and sisters united in his name in order to give life to the whole Body’.32 It is by communicating the life of mutual love, generating spiritually the presence of Jesus, to the point that others too want to transmit this life that a new energy is offered to the koinonia of the Church. The life of mutual love is not just between individuals but also between communities, churches, groups. For those who follow this spiritual way, Chiara underlined that it is by starting with ‘Jesus in the Midst’ (as the existential situation in which to establish dialogue and as the centre of the Christian event) that one has ‘the grace to meet him fully in the Eucharist, in the

28 See Back, Il Contributo, 83, 113-119. 29 See Chiara Lubich, Where Two or Three (London: New City, 1977). 30 Vandeleene, Essential Writings, xxvi. See also Judith M. Povilus, United in His Name: Jesus in our Midst in the Experience and Thought of Chiara Lubich (New York: New City Press, 1992). 31 This is an expression used by Chiara. It is also found in authors such as the German theologian Gisbert Greshak, An den dreieinen Gott glauben: ein Schlüssel zum Verständnis (Freiburg: Herder, 1998). 32 ‘Gesù in mezzo ai suoi e il “dialogo della vita”’, Gen’s 35 (2005/1), 6-12 at 8. 256 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Word, in the hierarchy…because he illuminates us about all these realities.’33 The second point of the Focolare spirituality that propelled the Movement into ecumenical dialogue was undoubtedly the cry of Jesus on the Cross: ‘my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ (Mark 15:34; Matt. 27:46)34 In her writings Chiara Lubich presents him as ‘the Word of God totally unfolded’, the culmination of the revelation of God in Christ. In terms of the hierarchy of truths or the Gospel ‘concentration’, it can be seen how Jesus Crucified and Forsaken represents the measure against which all dimensions of the Christian life can be measured inasmuch as they flow from him and lead back to him.35 He is the one who has taken all divisions onto himself in order to consume them in himself and so enable us to live in the light of the Risen Christ. Addressing the Second European Ecumenical Assembly in Graz, Austria in 1997, Chiara suggested that, an ecumenical spirituality will flourish to the degree that those dedicated to it see in the crucified and abandoned Jesus, who re- abandons himself to the Father, the key to understanding every disunity and to recomposing unity. A productive ecumenism demands hearts touched by him, that do not evade him, but understand him, love him, choose him and know how to see his divine face in every disunity they meet. And they find in him the light and the strength not

33 See Chiara Lubich, The Secret of Unity (London: New City, 1997), 30-31. Speaking in 1970 she commented: ‘what is it that makes us brothers and sisters, what is it that unites us? On the supernatural plane it is the Eucharist, the bond of unity, and if the Eucharist is not available, it is Jesus in our midst. This is the core of ecumenism. Why? Because it unites divided brothers and sisters, it unites them and forms them into a family… Tomorrow everyone will be reunited. Through what means? First of all through the charity that establishes Jesus in our midst. With Jesus in our midst…we will reach the crown and summit…which is the Eucharist.’ See J. Povilus, United in his Name (New York: New City, 1992), 92. 34 See Back, Il Contributo, 84-49. See Anna Pelli, L’abbandono di Gesù e il mistero del Dio Uno e Trino. Un’interpretazione teologica del nuovo orizzonte di comprensione aperto da Chiara Lubich (Rome: Città Nuova, 1995). 35 See Unitatis Redintegratio, 11 and Pontifical Council for the Promotion of Christian Unity, Directory for the Application of the Principles and Norms of Ecumenism (1993), ns. 61, 74-75. LEAHY New Paths for Dialogue: Chiara Lubich 257

to stop in trauma, in the fracture of division, but always to go beyond and to find a solution, the complete, achievable solution..36 In the fifth World Conference of Faith and Order, we read how the kenosis of Jesus on the cross is ‘the pattern and patron of reconciliation which leads to koinonia.’37 It is as a pattern of unity (‘He is the One who shows the way of love’38) that Chiara Lubich presents love for Jesus Forsaken on the Cross as a way that sustains and nourishes a lifestyle of outreach, forgiveness, reconciliation and renewal. Experiences of people trying to put this spirituality into practice from Rwanda to Croatia, from Northern Ireland to Kenya attest to this. What is typical and perhaps novel is the degree to which Chiara Lubich brings together Jesus’ prayer for unity, ‘Father, may they all be one’ (John 17:21) and the cry of Jesus ‘my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ by noting specific implications of love for Jesus Forsaken. Dialogue as an exchange of gifts, as mutual listening, as living the dynamism of dying-rising in our interaction finds its key in love for Jesus Forsaken. It is his love to the point of being abandoned that translates into human life the ‘Life’ of the Trinity in which each of the three divine persons is himself in the relationship of love with the other two.39 The law of life of losing-finding, proposed by Jesus to the

36 Michel Vandeleene, Essential Writings, 329-30. 37 See T. Best and G. Gassmann (eds.), On the Way to Fuller Koinonia, Faith and Order Paper n. 166 (Geneva: WCC, 1994), 233. Others have written on this theme. Hermann Bezzel, the Evangelical Lutheran theologian has written that ‘this abandonment by God… has transformed the misery of my distance from God into joy: the world has reconciled itself with God, the foreign land has become the homeland, the desert has become a green valley, distance from God has become closeness to God’ (Hermann Bezzel, Die Worte am Kreuz [Metzingen/Württ: Ernst Franz Verlag, 1967]). The Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew I expresses it this way, ‘Jesus, the incarnate Word, has himself travelled the greatest distance that lost humanity might ever travel: ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’’ (Bartholomew I, Ecumenical Patriarch, Glory to God for all things [Bose: Qiqajon Community of Bose, 2001]152). 38 See Joan Back, ‘Spunti per una riflession su Gesù Abbandonato in relazione alla riconciliazione fra i Cristiani’, Nuova Umanità 23 (2001/1): 31-49, at 41. 39 On the relationship between the economic and immanent Trinity, see the International Theological Commission, ‘Theology, Christology, Anthropology’ in Michael Sharkey (ed.), International Theological Commission: Texts and 258 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 disciples expresses, in analogy and by participation in the grace of the inner-Trinitarian relations, the dynamic necessary to live full communion with God and among believers in Christ (see Phil. 2:2-11). It is in imitation of this dynamism that we enter fully into the ecumenical movement that the Holy Spirit wants. It is in the light of such reflections that Gabriella Fallacara, the director of the Centro Uno who succeeded Gino Giordani, explains Chiara’s notion of an ‘ecumenical crucifix’: Imitating Jesus Forsaken, in embracing with love every painful separation, opens to the understanding of the Trinitarian dimension of life, that is, unity and diversity, so essential for ecumenical relationships. One enters this communion by ‘dying’ to oneself with the putting aside in that moment our ideas, activities, even our sufferings, to accept the richness of the other. In this way unity is not uniformity, it’s not compromise, it is striving towards possible convergences, seeking unity in diversity, following the theological works of our churches. The experience of almost fifty years of ecumenical relationships confirm that by loving Jesus Forsaken, and strengthened by the gifts of the Holy Spirit, Christians find the reason not to flee from sufferings and difficulties, but to consume them by uniting themselves spiritually to the one sacrifice of Christ on the Cross. Such an experience brought Chiara to declare Jesus Forsaken as the ecumenical Crucifix.40 Archbishop Rowan Williams points out that from the very beginning of the Movement the ‘governing theme’ has been the call ‘make yourself one’ with others.41 And this first and foremost involves dispossession in imitation of Jesus Forsaken. In what the Archbishop describes as a ‘memorable and definitive phrase’, Chiara writes ‘we need to know how to lose God within us for God in our brothers and sisters’. When this ‘nothingness of love’ as Chiara often called it, is lived mutually, with its ‘dying’ and ‘rising’ in relationship to one another in a mutual kenotic in-existence, then the unity that Christ gave is experienced or made more visible, and his presence among us is rendered more tangible (Matt. 18:20). The objective fruit of the abandonment of Christ (his resurrection as the ‘first born among

Documents, 1969-1985 (San Francisco: Ignatius, 1989): 207-224. See also ‘Select Questions on Christology’, Ibid., 185-206. 40 Enzo Fondi, Nato dal Vangelo (translation mine), 364. 41 From his introduction in Vandeleene, Essential Writings, xiii. LEAHY New Paths for Dialogue: Chiara Lubich 259 many’ [Rom 8:29]) becomes subjectively actualised in a community life and so a reality in history. The biblical icon of this experience to which Chiara pointed was the story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13-35), an ecumenical icon. 4) Methodology As the years advanced, certain features of the Focolare Movement’s ecumenical engagement and ‘methodology’ have begun to stand out more clearly. First and foremost, the Movement underscores a living dialogue. In 1997 at one of the movement’s international ecumenical gatherings, the way forward was summarised in a triple commitment that Chiara had often repeated throughout the years: live, live, live, meaning, ‘live the Gospel, share your experience of doing that and offer the light you have received as a gift!’42 Given the presence in the Movement of Christians from many churches, it has been possible to highlight this life of a ‘cross section’ of the Christian people who believe in unity and want to show how much Jesus’ prayer ‘may they all be one’ can be a reality. Already through baptism and in sharing the life of the spirituality of unity they are one in Christ and so they can live together all that already unites. In living it together they discover the wealth of their common patrimony: a common baptism (‘sacramental bond of unity’43), Scriptures, the first Councils, the Nicene- Constantinopolitan Creed, the Fathers of the Church.44 Accordingly, it can be said that a constant feature in the Movement’s methodology is the sharing of experiences of the Gospel and other elements of our faith that we hold in common. In particular, experiences within the light of the charism. The mutual sharing and exchange of gifts soon leads to the formation of a ‘dialogue of the people’. And this is another feature of the movement’s ecumenical methodology. Intended here is not a grass roots faction versus authority. The movement is a people made up of men and women of all ages, children and young people, priests, pastors and bishops. On more than one occasion, Chiara Lubich

42 Cited in Enzo Fondi, Nato dal Vangelo, 358. 43 Pontifical Council for the Promtion of Christian Unity, Ecumenical Directory, 92. 44 See Vatican II’s decree on ecumenism, Unitatis redintegratio, 3. 260 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 underlined how the Movement began and wants to continue above all on the basis of being a people sharing how they live the Gospel: ‘The dialogue of the people already exists; it’s there, it does not have to be created… We are one, if we are united in Christ. If we want we can live all that already unites us; who can stop us from doing that?’45 Speaking in York in 1996 she commented on what she had seen come to life in the experience of the movement, ‘it’s the people re- awakening, to form one Christian people’.46 The living dialogue and the dialogue of the people are dynamic. They open to other initiatives and dialogues. Inherent in these dialogues is the question of formation in ecumenism of members of the Movement. This has gained prominence in recent years following the principles of Vatican II and the indications of the Ecumenical Directory. A principle adopted from the beginning has been a practical and wise counsel: let each Christian be well inserted into his or her own Church, fully participating in the life of the Church in which he or she was baptised and so be a leaven of unity within his or her ecclesial reality. 5) Chiara Lubich’s Ecumenical Legacy Although a full assessment of Chiara Lubich’s ecumenical legacy will require more time and more detailed research than is possible here, at least a few points can be suggested.47 It could be said that the following elements resonate in the arena of reflection on what today is called ‘ecumenical reception’.48

45 This comment was made in her address in 2001 at a congress marking the fortieth anniversary of the Movement’s Centro Uno. See Enzo Fondi, Nato dal Vangelo, 356. 46 Enzo Fondi, Nato dal Vangelo, 366. 47 On the contribution of charisms to the church also in understanding revelation, see Karl Rahner, The Dynamic Element in the Church (Freiburg: herder; London: Burns and Oates, 1964), 83. 48 See William G. Rusch, Ecumenical Reception: Its Challenge and Opportunity (Cambridge: Eerdmans, 2007); Paul Murray (ed.), Receptive Ecumenism and the Call to Catholic Learning: Exploring a Way for Contemporary Ecumenism (Oxford University Press, 2008). LEAHY New Paths for Dialogue: Chiara Lubich 261

A legacy of life In his biography of Chiara published in 1978, the revered Baptist Pastor, Edwin Robertson dedicated a chapter of his work to Chiara Lubich’s ecumenical commitment. Commenting on the historic events that marked ecumenism in the 1960s he observed how ‘the role of Chiara Lubich amidst these historic events was of great importance. She had to emphasize quite simply and yet profoundly that the way to unity is less in talking together than in living together.’49 Any assessment of Chiara Lubich’s inheritance in the ecumenical area can best start with this focus on life. In his review in 2002 of the present and future situation of the Ecumenical Movement, Cardinal Walter Kasper expressed his view that ‘a new ecumenical situation is emerging’, involving a crisis, a situation ‘in which old ways are coming to an end but room for new possibilities opens’ and this will mean a long ‘transitional period’ that will need to be filled ‘with real life’. 50 It is in this area that Chiara offers the Church a communitarian experience of Gospel life. In the words of Dr Philip Potter, secretary general of the World Council of Churches during one of her visits to the centre in Geneva, she promoted a ‘style of ecumenical life’.51 This focus on life is important because in the past churches diverged not only through discussion and debate but also in the way they lived. Alienation and estrangement resulted. A new impetus towards unity requires ‘getting accustomed to each other’. To the ‘ecumenism of love’ and the ‘ecumenism of truth’, both naturally very important, it is

49 Edwin Robertson, Chiara (Ireland: Christian Journals Ltd. 1978), 33. Robertson, best known perhaps for his translations and editing of the English works of the distinguished German pastor, Dietrich Bonhoeffer comments that in his book, Life Together Bonhoeffer spelt out his proposal for a community life that he had began to experiment with in Finkenwalde until it closed in 1937. The ‘Word of Life’ with which Bonhoeffer begins his book is ‘behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity’. In Robertson’s view ‘Bonhoeffer would have understood the Focolare Movement at once. He was seeking for some such thing himself and, particularly after his experiences in the monastery at Ettal, he would have welcomed the emphasis on “unity” that Chiara had given to her groups’ (Robertson, Chiara, 35). 50 Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity, Information Service (2002/I-II), 12. 51 See Joan P. Back, ‘Stile di vita ecumenico,’ Città Nuova 26 (1982/21), 32-38. 262 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 clear today there must be added an ‘ecumenism of life’. And this is certainly a key dimension of Chiara Lubich’s vision of ecumenism.52 An Ecumenical Spirituality It has been said that spirituality is the ‘new ecumenical way’ for ecumenism today.53 Chiara leaves to those who follow her a Gospel spirituality of communion or fellowship that contributes to our growth towards the ‘full stature of Christ’ (Eph. 4:13). The spirituality of reconciliation that she promoted was aimed at furthering unity both within each church and among churches.54 Feedback from members of various churches bears out how it resonates in different traditions: The Movement’s spirituality… contains in itself extremely useful elements for dialogue with various Churches. And these have enabled us to open and to develop a constructive conversation with Christians of various denominations, so that a truly ecumenical reality has been born. These elements are: love as the central element of Christianity and life which have touched our Orthodox brothers and sisters; the word of God… which has opened for us a dialogue and a communion with the Lutherans; unity, which has particularly interested our Anglican brothers and sisters, starting from those in authority in their Church; Jesus’ words, ‘Where two or more are met together in my name, there am I in their midst’ which has been the key word in our dialogue with members of the Reformed Churches.55 Members of different churches have felt a common vocation to share in the Movement’s spirit and life – always within the painful limits that the present situation of incomplete communion allows.56 These Christians are united not only in sharing baptism, Scripture, Trinitarian faith and other elements but also in sharing a specific charism that the Holy Spirit has poured out for our times with the task of enlightening and actualising one’s fidelity to baptism and the Word of God in view of unity. The Movement and its spirituality

52 See also Cardinal Kasper on these themes in That They May All be One (London: Burns & Oates, 2004). 53 See T.Vetrali, ‘La spiritualità “Nuova via dell’ecumenismo”. Ma quale spiritualità?’ Quaderni di Studi Ecumenici 3 (2000): 87–103. 54 See Joan Back, ‘Una Spiritualità per il Dialogo Ecumenico,’ Nuova Umanità 30 (2008/3): 389-402. 55 Chiara Lubich, The Secret of Unity (London: New City, 1997), 106. 56 See Vatican II’s decree on ecumenism, Unitatis Redintegratio, 3. LEAHY New Paths for Dialogue: Chiara Lubich 263 provide a realm where the elements or goods of the Church of Christ can be shared and lived among churches and ecclesial communities. People learn to love other churches as their own. A Model of Unity In line with what has now become a common theme in many Church documents and theological dialogues between the churches, Chiara Lubich has always proposed a model of the unity of the Church that attempted, in the power of the Holy Spirit, to translate the ultimate model of ecclesial unity which is the life of God-Trinity, revealed and shared with history through Jesus’ abandonment and resurrection.57 Commenting on the future of the Church she affirmed, there will undoubtedly be a unity and there will be variety: variety of traditions, richness, history but there will be unity. It will happen a little like the Trinity that is one, because we have one God and there are three divine Persons. So certainly there will be unity, one truth, but this one truth will be expressed in different ways, seen in different ways. So there will be unity and variety.58 Each tradition offers a specific gift to the Church, a gift that has been formed perhaps over years: It is my conviction that God has not abandoned any of the churches through these centuries of division. Tomorrow, in re-unificiation, each Church re-united with the others, through mirroring the unity of God, will not only maintain the particular characteristic that has been developing throughout the centuries but by sharing it with all the other churches, will complete it, straighten it, strengthen it. Accordingly, each Church will become in a certain way a ‘specialist’ of

57 Reference could be made to Unitatis Redintegratio, 2, Lumen Gentium, 4, Gaudium et Spes, 24. See also The Faith and Order documents such as, La Trinité divine et l’unité de l’Eglise in Verbum Caro 59 (1961): 245-279; the statement of the joint international Commission for theological dialogue between the Roman Catholic Church and the Orthodox Church, The Mystery of the Church and the Eucharist in the light of the mystery of the Holy Trinity (1982); and the Roman Catholic-Evangelical Lutheran documents, Ways towards Communion (1980) and Unity ahead of us (1984). 58 From an interview with Bavarian Television cited in Piero Coda, ‘Il Carisma dell’unità’, 38 (translation mine). 264 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

that particular gift of truth that through the centuries it has been deepening.59 The key to actualising this Trinitarian model is, as we have seen above, love for Jesus Crucified and Forsaken. An Ecumenical method We have already highlighted aspects of the ‘methodology’ of the Focolare Movement. One further point can be added here. An ecumenical dialogue that is closed in on itself dies. In part that may explain some of the ‘crisis’ that is often spoken of today.60 Chiara Lubich understood ecumenical dialogue in relation to other dialogues. For her there was a clear link between unity, dialogue and mission. The prayer for unity (John 17) was in view of the missionary ‘go make disciples of all nations’ (Matt. 28: 19-20) but the Johannine motif continued in Chiara’s mind because missionary outreach was viewed by her in terms of the Johannine theme, ‘By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.’ (John 13: 35) Ecumenical Dialogue was one of a number of dialogues that she viewed as avenues to pursuing the greater goal of world unity along the way of mutual love. This was the specific aim that with urgency she kept before her and those who came into contact with her. Accordingly, ecumenical dialogue could never be completely separated from work towards building up communion within the Catholic Church and commitment towards inter-religious dialogue and engagement with culture in general. Nor was it to be reduced simply to co-operation or toleration. At a time when there are many initiatives worldwide to do with peace-building, conflict transformation and reconciliation, Chiara Lubich’s legacy includes a contribution to the wider sense of ecumenism (building a worldwide political, social and economic

59 ‘Dialogo aperto. Unità delle Chiese’ in Città Nuova 19 (1975/12): 33 (translation mine). See also John Paul II, Crossing the Threshold of Hope (London: Jonathan Cape, 1994), 153. 60 See Harding Meyer, That All May Be One: Perceptions and Models of Ecumenicity (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1999), 151-156; William G. Rusch, ‘What is Keeping the Churches Apart?’ Ecumenical trends 32 (2003/1), 1-4; Carl E. Braaten and Robert W. Jenson (eds.), In One Body Through the Cross: The Princeton Proposal for Christian Unity (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2003). LEAHY New Paths for Dialogue: Chiara Lubich 265

‘home’).61 She has left behind a narrative of reconciliation (the Focolare Movement began during War, it tells many experiences of reconciliation and of ecumenical outreach62), a reconciled people made up of many peoples, ethnic groups and social categories (the Movement is present in 182 countries), a spirituality of reconciliation,63 an educational laboratory of unity (see the initiatives in the Movement’s initiatives for Family and young people as well as in the Economy of Communion project and the Movement for Unity in politics). A New Light on Doctrine From the beginning Chiara was convinced that the spirituality of unity was not just life but also a light. Increasingly, she viewed the promotion of communitarian spirituality as assisting the theological task facing ecumenical dialogue.64 This is an aspect that is only beginning to emerge more explicitly in the movement but the recent establishment of the Movement’s university institute, Sophia, will contribute to this development.65 The interdependence between theology, spiritual doctrine and praxis has been recognised more profoundly in recent years. Spiritualities produce spiritual systems and spiritual movements are recognised as having a place to play in the development of theology.66

61 See Dimitri Bregant, ‘Case Study: The Focolare Movement, Evangelization and Contemporary Culture,’ International Review of Mission 92 (2003): 26-28; Lorna Gold, The Sharing Economy: Solidarity Networks transforming Globalisation (Aldershot, Hampshire: Ashgate, 2004); Amelia J. Uelman, ‘Reconciling Evangelization and Dialogue through Love of Neighbour,’ Villanova Law Review 52 (2007): 303-329. 62 A feature of the Focolare narrative might also be to preserve ‘ecumenical memory’ alive by telling the story of how ecumenism emerged and developed in the movement. As has been said ‘every new generation has to re-receive the ecumenical movement’. See Günther Gassmann, ‘The Future of Ecumenism Toward the Year 2000: Achievements and Tasks’, Ecumenical Trends 25 (1996/1), 1-7, at 4. 63 See Joan Back, ‘Spunti per una riflession su Gesù Abbandonato in relazione alla riconciliazione fra i Cristiani’, Nuova Umanità 23 (2001/1): 31-49. 64 See Povilus, United in his Name, 92-94. 65 See . 66 M.D. Chenu, Le Saulchoir: une école de théologie (Le Saulchoir, Kain-lez- Tournai, 1937). 266 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

In terms of the doctrinal side of ecumenical dialogue Chiara’s inheritance is twofold. Firstly, she proposed a theological method that applies also in the realm of ecumenism. Secondly, some of her insights are clearly of significance in terms of their theological content. As regards theological method, Chiara proposed that ‘thinking, discerning and acting according to Christ’ (the phroneîn of Phil. 2:5) is to be carried out in a dialogue within the truth-love that is the risen Crucified Christ among those gathered in his name. This explains why charity, truth and unity are intimately linked.67 As she writes, ‘Jesus is the theologian. And in our midst he, the Teacher, is not only love, he is also truth. If we try to live in such a way that he be always in our midst… little by little Jesus among us will give us a clear vision of the truth and will work out those theological differences which still separate us.’68 For her this is certainly not a false charity that hides differences or simply settles for a consoling reality of an irenic communion that leaves things as they are. Jesus would not really be present in that case. Jesus in the midst is by definition a dynamic and transforming presence, pneumatic and driving towards a balance of unity that is ever deeper. Here too, however, the key is Jesus Forsaken. When communion of mutual love is created on this basis, it leads to a process that with time ‘consumes all that must fall and leaves standing only the truth.’69 Exploration of the theological doctrinal aspects of the Focolare spirituality has only begun to emerge and this development will possibly have a bearing on understanding the Movement’s place within the future landscape of ecumenism.70 It is possible to indicate a

67 On relationship between dialogue, truth and love see Piero Coda, ‘Vangelo della carità e dialogo’ in Nuova Umanità 14 (1992/82), 11-26; G.M. Zanghì, ‘Eglise, Icône del la Trinité, pour le dialogue et l’annonce’ in Pontifical Council for Inter-Religious Dialogue, Bulletin 27 (1993/2): 83, 135-146. 68 Povilus, United in his Name, 93. 69 Vandeleene, Essential Writings, 95. 70 On the Movement’s Study Centre see An Introduction to the Abba School (New York: New City, 2002). Many works have been published in the light of the spirituality. Some examples: Klaus Hemmerle, Thesen zu einer trinitarischen Ontologie (Einsiedeln: Johannes Verlag, 1976); Gerard Rossé, The Cry of Jesus on the Cross (New York: Paulist Press, 1987), Marisa Cerini, God who is Love in the Experience and Thought of Chiara Lubich (New York: New City, 1992); Donald Mitchell, Spirituality and Emptiness (New York: LEAHY New Paths for Dialogue: Chiara Lubich 267 few directions that merit further reflection for their theological significance: the place of Jesus Forsaken as the Word totally unfolded; the ecclesiology of Jesus in the Midst and how it impacts on conciliarity, collegiality and primacy within a perspective of communion;71 the Church’s Marian principle.72 Mary, Mother of Unity One final, but by no means insignificant point. Perhaps somewhat surprisingly, Chiara leaves a specific model of the ecumenical style of life – Mary. On the other hand, it is not so surprising when we recall the Focolare Movement’s official name is the ‘Work of Mary’. Already in 1962 Chiara proposed Mary as model of dialogue between members of different churches in inviting members of the movement ‘to develop in us the qualities most associated with her: patience, perseverance, poverty, detachment from all our riches, includes spiritual treasures, silence, temperance, purity, meekness.’73 In recent years, the Mother of the Lord has become the subject of a number of interesting ecumenical studies as well as official and unofficial dialogues.74 Throughout her life Chiara often referred to

Paulist Press, 1991); Giuseppe Zanghì, Dio che è Amore (Rome: Città Nuova, 1991); Hubertus Blaumeiser, Martin Luthers Kreuzestheologie. Schlüssel zu seiner Deutung von Mensch und Wirklichkeit (Paderborn: Bonifatius- Druckerei, 1995); Piero Coda, Il logos e il nulla: Trinità, religioni, mistica (Rome: Città Nuova, 2004); Michel Vandeleene (ed.), Egli è vivo: la presenza del Risorto nella comunità cristiana (Rome: Città Nuova, 2006). 71 Paul Avis considers ‘the Holy Grail of modern ecumenical dialogue’ to be ‘the right combination of conciliarity, collegiality and primacy’. See Paul Avis, Beyond the Reformation: Authority, Primacy and Unity in the Conciliar Tradition (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2006), 184. 72 See Marc Quellet, ‘Mary and the future of Ecumenism,’ Theology Digest 50 (2003/1) 15-17; Brendan Leahy, The Marian Profile (London: New City, 2000). 73 ‘Pensieri,’ Città Nuova 6 (1962/15-16): 9. For an excellent introduction to Chiara’s view of Marian with ecumenical resonance, see Rowan Williams’ introduction to Vandeleene, Essential Writings, xi – xix and Joan Back, ‘Mary in the Focolare Movement’s Spirituality of Unity – Some Emerging Insights,’ New Humanity Review (USA) 8 (2004), 20-26. See also Callan Slipper, ‘Mary, Help to Christian Unity,’ New City 34 (2003): 4-6. 74 See George H. Tavard, ‘The Role of the Virgin Mary in Ecumenical Dialogue,’ One in Christ 33 (1997) 222-232; Jared Wicks, ‘The Virgin Mary in recent Ecumenical Dialogues,’ Gregorianum 81 (2000) 25-57; Catherine E. 268 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Mary as the ‘mother of unity’, indicating it is she who ‘will reveal how love is to be ordered in hearts and among hearts, how the Body of Christ is to be built up according to the eternal, supreme dialogue of love that is the Trinity’.75 Archbishop Rowan Williams comments: There will be some non-Roman Catholic readers who find themselves surprised, even shocked, by the central importance of Mary in Chiara’s exposition. But she makes it absolutely clear why this is so: we have, she says, too often approached Mary as if she were not herself a disciple… The whole life of the Church of God is, historically speaking, rooted in her discipleship… Mary, says Chiara, lived ‘between two fires,’ the Spirit and Christ – the Spirit bringing Christ to life in her, Jesus himself calling to her as a human other to love. And so we live also between two fires; the inner attention to God’s love in silence and adoration and the Jesus who dwells in our midst if we are met together in his name, that is, loving one another (Matt. 18:20). ‘Between two fires’; that is an unforgettable evocation of what it means to live and pray as a Christian.76 Conclusion In his message upon hearing of her death, Pope Benedict spoke of Chiara Lubich as a ‘woman of intrepid faith, a meek messenger of hope and peace founder of a vast spiritual family.’ She had often said that her final testimony to the Movement she founded would be summed up in the words ‘be a family’. It’s her word to the ecumenical world too that she loved with a passion. With her constant invitation to live the Gospel art of loving, she leaves an inheritance in the form of a movement called ‘a Work of Mary’ which, she wrote, if it remains faithful to the Gospel that does not pass (Matt. 24:35), will remain on earth as another Mary ‘all Gospel, nothing other than Gospel and because it is Gospel, it will not die.’77

Clifford, ‘Marie dans le dialogue œcuménique,’ Theoforum 34 (2003) 355-374; B. Ruddock, ‘Ecumenical Reflections on Mary, Grace and Hope in Christ,’ The Pastoral Review 3/1 (2007) 42-46; F.H. Borsch, ‘Mary and Scripture: A Response to “Mary: Grace and Hope in Christ”: An Agreed Statement of the Anglican-Roman Catholic International Commission,’ Anglican Theological Review 89 (2007) 375-399. 75 ‘L’Uomo del dialogo,’ Città Nuova, 26 (1982/10), 30. 76 From his introduction to Vandeleene, Essential Writings, xiv-xv 77 Essere tua Parola (Rome: Città Nuova, 2008), 85. LEAHY New Paths for Dialogue: Chiara Lubich 269

Sometimes we ask ourselves, when we consider the great light that we feel has overwhelmed us in these past years, what testament we would like to leave to those who follow the same path as us. Without a doubt our choice would be the very testament of Jesus: mutual love and unity, which bring the presence of Jesus in the midst. Only by leaving behind us this presence of Jesus in every corner of the world where the Movement lives can we be certain that everything will carry on for the best, and that he will continue to be teacher, guide, father, and leader of each group of persons, whether small or large, which has him among the members of the group. He alone will be capable of fulfilling the Work of Mary according to the plan he keeps in his heart. In the testament of Angela Merici, I found some marvellous pages where unity is the most outstanding note: ‘With these my final words to you, I plead even to my dying breath that you be in harmony, united together, all one heart and one will. Be bound to one another in the bond of charity, esteeming one another, helping one another, putting up with one another in Jesus Christ. Because if you try to be like this, without a doubt the Lord God will be in your midst… Therefore, see how important this union and concord is. Desire it, seek it out, embrace it, hold fast to it with all your might: because I tell you that if you are all together thus united in heart, you will be like a very strong fortress or an invincible tower in the face of every adversity, persecution or diabolical trickery. Moreover I tell you that every grace you ask of God will unfailingly be granted.’78

78 Chiara Lubich, Where Two or Three (London: New City, 1977), 50-51. 270 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

PAUL COUTURIER AND MAURICE VILLAIN: THE WEEK OF PRAYER FOR CHRISTIAN UNITY

Frederick Bliss SM and Alois Greiler SM∗

The centenary of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity in 2008 understandably recalled the contributions of Paul Wattson and Paul Couturier.79 But there is another significant pioneer of Catholic ecumenism in the twentieth century – Maurice Villain. He contributed to the work for unity as heir of Couturier, in particular the place and importance of prayer, offering a theological foundation to what we now call ‘spiritual ecumenism’.80 Villain guarded this heritage, right to the moment when Vatican II approved Catholic involvement in the ecumenical movement.81 It was he also who coined the term and developed the concept of the ‘Invisible Monastery of Christian Unity’.

∗ Alois Greiler from Germany and Frederick Bliss from New Zealand are Marists priests resident and working in Rome. Greiler has a doctorate in theology from the Catholic University of Leuven in Belgium and is presently researching the history of the Society of Mary in the Marist archives. His thesis on the history of the Vatican II decree on priestly formation was published by Peeters Press. Bliss has a doctorate from the Angelicum University where he is a professor specializing in ecumenical theology. Recent publications include Catholic and Ecumenical. History and Hope (Rowman and Littlefield, 2007) and Anglicans in Rome (Canterbury Press, 2006). 79 See ‘100 Years of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity’, The Ecumenical Review 59/4 (October 2007); Michael Seed, ‘Go on with the show’, The Tablet, 19 January 2008; ‘Cent années de prière’, Chrétiens en marche 97 (janvier-mars 2008) 5. 80 The Documents of Vatican II, ed. Austin Flannery (Dublin: Dominican Publications, 1995) 509. 81 Laurence Duffy SM, in an unpublished research paper on Maurice Villain, refers to him as an apostle of spiritual ecumenism. (See General Archives, Society of Mary, Rome.) BLISS & GREILER Paul Couturier and Maurice Villain 271

1) Maurice Villain (1900-1977) – journeying into a life dedicated to ecumenism Maurice Villain82 was born at Argenton-sur-Creuse (Indre), France, on 16 May 1900, to an agnostic father and a devout Catholic mother.83 He was educated by the Marists at the secondary school of Montluçon. Later, while studying at the Ecole des Chartes, Paris he resided at the student residence at rue de Vaugirard 104, directed by Father Plazenet SM. One of his fellow students was Jean Guitton, soon to become a noted philosopher and member of the Third Order of Mary, and with whom he would later be associated in Lyons. In 1920 Villain joined the Society of Mary,84 making his novitiate at La Neylière (Rhône), near Lyons, and religious profession the following year at Differt (Belgium). He studied at Differt and Rome, obtaining a doctorate in theology at the University of St Thomas Aquinas (Angelicum) in 1929.85 In Rome he was ordained priest on 12 June 1927. His interests included archaeology, art history and painting water colours, some of them shown in public exhibitions.86 Villain taught at the Marist scholasticate at Differt (1929-1932) and the

82 For the person, life and work, and for photos, see General Archives Society of Mary, Rome (hereafter: APM) dossier personnel, Maurice Villain, 2881, envelopes I – III. The papers concerning his ecumenical work are at the abbey of Dombes, France. Villain kept the correspondence with Couturier and booklets of the Unity week: see Villain’s memoirs, Vers l’unité. Itinéraire d’un pionnier. 1935 – 1977, (Groupement pour le Service Œcuménique, 1986), 354. This includes a chronology and bibliography. For references to Villain’s papers see also Etienne Fouilloux, Les catholiques & l’unité chrétienne du XIXe au XX siècle. Itinéraires européens d’expression française (Paris : Le Centurion, 1982), 940. 83 See Antoine Forissier, ‘Villain (Maurice), mariste, 1900-1977’ in Dictionnaire de spiritualité, vol. XVI (Paris : Beauchesne, 1994), col. 766 – 769; Joseph de Baciocchi, ‘Villain Maurice’ in Catholicisme Hier Aujourd’hui Demain (Paris : Letouzey et Ané, 1999), fascicle 73, col. 1132-1134; M. Villain, Une mère (Lyons: M. Audin, 1940), written after his mother’s death. 84 The Society of Mary, (Marists) founded in France by Jean-Claude Colin was approved by Rome in 1836. 85 Villain’s thesis was on Aquinas’s commentary on the De causis of Aristotle; see the unpublished article by G. Lessard on Villain, 1997, APM 2881, III. 86 See Villain’s books on Fra Angelico and other painters, and APM 2881, III, for a programme of an exhibition of his watercolours at Dinard in August 1971. 272 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Séminaire des Missions d’Océanie, Sainte-Foy in Lyons (1932-1948). He also taught at other institutions, notably the Lyons Cercle Thomiste,87 a programme designed to explain to lay people the teaching of St Thomas. His subjects were patristics, church history and systematic theology. During this time in Lyons he broadened his theological understanding through contact with people whose ideas were prophetic, including Henri de Lubac, Victor Carlhian, Augustin and Albert Valensin, Jules Monchanin and Paul Couturier. He also benefited from exposure to the biblical, patristic and liturgical movements of the early twentieth century, giving him a theological vista beyond that of his Roman education. In 1959, while he was lecturing at Boissey, John XXIII announced an ecumenical council. W.F. Visser’t Hooft, a fellow lecturer, asked Villain to give a talk backgrounding this announcement. Villain explained that there was unfinished business from Vatican I, particularly for the theology of the Church, including the place of bishops and the laity in it, and its inner mystery. These were prophetic words which only a few in the Church of 1959 would have understood, including those responsible for drafting the preparatory schema on the Church. Stepping back into the 1930s we discover that Villain underwent a ‘conversion’ to ecumenical work due to an encounter with Paul Couturier (1881-1953), a priest of Lyons who taught mathematics at Chartreum College, located in the former Les Chatreux Carthusian Monastery, near Lyons. Couturier, founder of ‘spiritual ecumenism’ and the major pioneer of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity as it is today, asked Villain to assist him in his ecumenical initiatives. Villain accepted and was to become one of his heirs. Until 1948 he continued to teach in Lyons, working part time on various ecumenical ventures; but in that year – when the Society of Mary freed Villain from assignments in the congregation – he moved to Paris and worked fulltime for the ecumenical cause.88 By the time of Couturier’s death in 1953 Villain was widely acknowledged in ecumenical circles, though there was little sympathy

87 See APM 2881, III, for a programme for the course at the Catholic Faculty of Lyons in 1936-1937. 88 For decisions by his Marist superiors since 1920, see the excerpts from council meetings: APM 2881, II, ‘Reg. du conseil; extraits concernant Maurice Villain’, 3 pages (prepared by Gaston Lessard). BLISS & GREILER Paul Couturier and Maurice Villain 273 for ecumenism within the Catholic Church. He did, however, receive the recognition of the then Archbishop of Canterbury, Michael Ramsey. Father Brandreth, one of the advisers on Foreign Relations at Lambeth Palace, wrote a memo to the Archbishop requesting him to receive ‘the Revd Maurice Villain, the biographer and spiritual heir of the Abbé Couturier’ on 6 December 1972.89 During the next Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, on Sunday 21 January 1973, the Archbishop of Canterbury celebrated the Eucharist at the Convent of the Visitation in Lyons, using the chalice of Paul Couturier, and that same morning he prayed at the tomb of Couturier. In the afternoon he conferred the silver cross of St Augustine on Cardinal Gerlier, the Archbishop of Lyons, and on Fathers Villain and Pierre Michalon.90 This was the most prominent recognition Villain received for his ecumenical work during his lifetime. Returning from Oceania in 1974, Michel Darmancier, former bishop of Wallis and Futuna, assisted Villain in writing his memoirs which had to be dictated because of Villain’s failing eyesight.91 He was hospitalized on 25 January 1977, the concluding day of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, and he died on 18 March.92 Villain is buried at his birth place, Argenton-sur-Creuse. 2) Villain – Theologian to Couturier In his memoirs, Vers l’unité : Itinéraire d’un pionnier. 1935-1977, Villain speaks of his first meeting with Abbé Paul Couturier in 1932,93 which would turn into weekly encounters between 1936 and 1948.94 Villain always acknowledged and promoted Couturier as the one who placed

89 Ramsey papers, vol. 252. Lambeth Palace Library. 90 Ibid., vol 252, f. 267. 91 See the letter by Michel Darmancier, Paris, 24 March 1977, in APM 2881, I. 92 See Jacques Desseaux, secretary of the French Secretariat for Christian Unity, ‘In Memoriam. Père Maurice Villain (1900-1977): a life dedicated to unity’ in One in Christ 3 (1977) 280 – 282. Obituary by the same author in Le Figaro, 22 March 1977. 5 Letter of Joseph de Baciocchi SM to the authors, 26 January 2008. 94 Dossier for a chronology of Villain, established by Gaston Lesssard, in APM 2881, II. 274 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 prayer at the heart of the Catholic approach to ecumenism.95 Villain preserved Couturier’s heritage: he published Couturier’s ideas and worked for three years on his biography, L’Abbe Paul Couturier. De Baciocchi, a former collaborator, speaks of the ‘tandem Couturier– Villain’, Couturier first and Villain second.96 What precisely was Villain’s role? According to George Tavard, while Father Michalon promoted the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity locally in Lyons, it was Villain who made spiritual ecumenism known internationally by way of his writings and lectures.97 Though Couturier launched the idea, Villain assisted him to solidify the foundations and spread the initiative. The fact is that Villain was a theologian who had the ability to express spiritual ecumenism in an appropriate way. Couturier not only realized this, but he also knew he needed this partnership. On this Jacques Desseaux says: ‘The two men had to encounter one another so that their respective gifts could flourish, one aided by the other.’98 The arrival of the Groupe de Dombes in 1937 meant an even greater reliance on the expertise of Villain in addressing the theological and historical aspects of ecumenism.99 After the death of Couturier in 1953, Cardinal Gerlier appointed Villain as the Catholic vice-president of the Groupe de Dombes, a post he held until 1974. When Villain was forced to relinquish it for health reasons, another Marist, Joseph de Baciocchi assumed the Catholic vice-presidency from 1974 to 1990.

95 Fouilloux, Les catholiques & l’unité chrétienne : 202. Fouilloux suggests that Yves Congar (1904-1995) focused on theology, dogma, and history, and Couturier on ‘une spiritualité pour l’œcuménisme’ ibid. 271. 96 Letter of Joseph de Baciocchi SM to the authors, 26 January 2008. 97 George H. Tavard, Two Centuries of Ecumenism (London: Burns & Oates, 1960), 156; L. Vischer, ‘The Ecumenical Movement and the Roman Catholic Church’ in R. Rouse and S. Neill (eds), A History of the Ecumenical Movement, vol. 2, 1948-1968, 321-2. Whereas Vischer mentions only Pierre Michalon as the ‘heir’ of Couturier, Tavard more accurately acknowledges Michalon as the one who continued the work in Lyons, while Villain did so at the international level. 98 Le Figaro, 22 March 1977. 99 Joseph de Baciocchi, ‘Fidélité dogmatique et recherche œcuménique’, Foi et vie (avril-septembre 1971), 14-36. And see Fouilloux, Les catholiques & l’unité chrétienne, 297: ‘Couturier was no author, writer…’ BLISS & GREILER Paul Couturier and Maurice Villain 275

3) Villain and the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity The genesis of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity In modern times, the first notable encouragement of prayer for ‘church unity’ came in May 1902 with the encyclical letter from the Ecumenical Patriarch, Joachim III to all the autocephalous Orthodox churches, soliciting their opinion about relations with other Christian bodies, emphasizing that the matter of the unity of Christians should be a ‘subject of constant prayer and supplication.’ 100 Some years later, in January 1920, the Ecumenical Patriarchate wrote a letter ‘To all the Churches of Christ, wherever they may be’ asking for co-operation, suggesting a League of Churches, after the style of the League of Nations. The encyclical spoke of rekindling love among the churches, suggesting that they should not view one another as strangers and foreigners, but as relatives, as part of the household of Christ. Though he is quite specific about a number of areas of co-operation, nowhere does he explicitly mention prayer together. At that point it is likely that his mind was that Christians ought to pray for one another. 101 However, in 1926, the Faith and Order movement which included Orthodox membership, published ‘suggestions for an Octave of Prayer for Christian Unity’, to be celebrated around Pentecost. In 1908 two Anglican clergymen, Spencer Jones (1857-1943), vicar of St David’s, Moreton-on-Marsh in England, and Paul Wattson (1863- 1940), an American, launched the Church Unity Octave. Whereas Jones, who remained an Anglican, suggested prayer for unity with Rome, it was Wattson who nominated the January dates - from 18 January (feast of the Chair of Peter) to 25 January (feast of the Conversion of Paul). With Wattson’s conversion to Catholicism nine months later, ‘the purpose that was then assigned to the Chair of Unity Octave, as it was called, was the conversion of all separated Christians to Rome. Pius X, Benedict XV and Pius XI encouraged this

100 Resources for the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity and throughout the year. F&O/PCPCU, 2008. 101 See The Ecumenical Review, 12/1 (October 1959), 79-82. 276 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 pious practice’102 which Maurice Villain described as ‘a sort of crusade for the conversion of non-Catholics.’ 103 Paul Couturier’s ecumenical vocation The bi-ritual Benedictine foundation, first established in 1925 at Amay-sur-Meuse, Belgium, enjoyed an assigned task of working for rapprochement among Christians, especially Catholics and Orthodox. In 1939 the monastery transferred to Chevetogne under its first prior and committed ecumenist, Dom Lambert Bauduin, a friend of Cardinal Mercier. Amay-Chevetogne developed as a centre of ecumenical hospitality, of theological research and of spirituality. Reunion was part of the language of this monastery for which, according to Dom Lambert, prayer was a necessary prerequisite. Such an exercise would involve extensive ‘psychological preparation’ of Christians everywhere. Amay-Chevetogne subsequently dedicated two special periods to prayer for unity: first, the nine days before Pentecost as designated by Leo XIII, and secondly, the Chair of Unity Octave in January. In 1932 Paul Couturier spent a month of spiritual retreat at Amay where he was exposed to the Benedictine ecumenical lifestyle and ministry. On this occasion, according to George Tavard, Couturier found his vocation. He returned to Lyons determined to become even more intensely involved in the work for Christian unity, including the promotion of prayer for unity. In 1933 Couturier held a first triduum in Lyons to pray for unity among Christians.104 In 1934 the triduum became an octave of prayer and finally in 1937 the exercise became the Universal Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. And the week continues into the present. Sensitized by his experience at Amay, Couturier came to identify a serious weakness in the intention of ‘prayer for unity’. It sought the ‘return’ of Christians to the Roman fold, which meant that Catholics were praying for other Christians, and not praying with them. Couturier determined to make the prayer ecumenical, a process that would involve a psychological preparation of the people, who hitherto

102 Tavard, Two Centuries of Ecumenism, 153. 103 Villain, Unity: A History and Some Reflections (London: Casterman, 1961),214. 104 See Frederick M. Bliss, Catholic and Ecumenical: History and Hope (Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield, 2007), 1 BLISS & GREILER Paul Couturier and Maurice Villain 277 had different expectations. In explanation of his aims Couturier published an article in the Revue Apologétique of December 1935 entitled ‘Psychologie de l’octave des prières du 18 au 25 janvier’, which he continued to develop in a number of papers up to the time of his death in March 1953. The year 1935 marks the beginning of Couturier’s spiritual ecumenism and the moment of Villain’s ecumenical conversion. Couturier saw the goal of Christian unity as beyond Catholic or Orthodox, Protestant or Anglican denominational boundaries. At the deepest level the divisions are not theological, but spiritual. The bonds that should ordinarily bring Christians into a oneness or a communion have been shattered. Hence, the great significance of spiritual ecumenism. After the January 1935 Week of Prayer for Christian Unity Couturier asked Maurice Villain to prepare the programme and booklet for the following year and to be a principal speaker at it.105 Villain’s acceptance was the beginning point of thirty-six years of service to ecumenism. The desire to avoid any suggestion of the ‘return model’ being the point of the prayer, would take time to achieve, but by 1938 the Lyons group had successfully moved on.106 Though the 1928 encyclical of Pius XI, Mortalium animos cast a shadow over ecumenical initiatives,107 Couturier’s emphasis on spirituality - ‘pray, and allow God to give unity when and how God wills it’ - earned the support of Cardinal Gerlier of Lyons. Thus began the journey to the year 1968, when all the Christian communities

105 Villain, Vers l’unité, 4. Fouilloux in Les catholiques & l’unité chrétienne, 336 gives examples of material prepared by Couturier for the unity week in Lyons. The annual pamphlet comprised four pages. In 1934 10,000 copies were printed; in 1939, 6,700. There was also material for specific groups, for example, the Jews in 1936, Protestant pastors and bishops in 1937, religious communities 1937 and 1938. Couturier asked various people to write articles, managing to get the French press to cover the week of prayer. 106 See Fouilloux, Les catholiques & l’unité chrétienne, 305. The diocesan paper, La Semaine religieuse du diocèse de Lyon, 31 January 1937 wrote: ‘Par la Ré- union de tous les Chrétiens à l’Union de tous les peoples dans l’Unité de l’église.’ In 1938, Villain noted a continuing tendency to prosyletize, but within a year the approach clearly favoured dialogue: ‘L’universelle prière des Chrétiens pour l’Unité Chrétienne’. 107 See ‘Un apôtre de l’Unité Chrétienne : L’Abbé Couturier (1881-1953)’, Unité Chrétienne 149 (February 2003). 278 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 would come to use, for the first time, the same material for the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, prepared jointly by Faith and Order and the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity, now known as the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity.

Villain - the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity and Couturier’s heritage Maurice Villain contributed to succeeding Weeks of Prayer for Christian Unity both theologically and practically. Given the French tradition of regular clergy meetings for study,108 Villain was able to design prayers, conferences, and inter-confessional meetings within this context, though in a pioneering fashion, due to an official church hesitant about things ecumenical. However, Villain was fortunate to have the support of the Cardinal and his Marist superiors. A typical Week of Prayer for Christian Unity in the late 1930’s was a carrefour, a crossroad of spiritual, intellectual and personal encounter, a practice which expanded across the world. The emphasis was on prayer, but prayer deepened by theological reflection and personal encounter. In Villain’s words, the vertical (prayer) and the horizontal (ecumenical work) met.109 Even in 1950, at the time Pius XII’s encyclical Humani generis, the prevailing Catholic understanding continued to favour the idea of other Christians ‘returning to the Catholic Church’.110 But Couturier

108 See ‘Les associations de prêtres en France du Moyen Âge à l’époque contemporaine’, Revue d’Histoire de l’Eglise de France 93 (2007), 207. Villain knew of such meetings from his own Congregation. 109 See M. Villain, ‘Histoire du Groupe des Dombes’, Unité des Chretiens 14 (avril 1974), photocopy in APM 2881, III ; de Baciocchi, ‘Fidélite dogmatique et recherche œcuménique: Groupe des Dombes’, Pour la communion des Eglises, l’apport du Groupe des Dombes 1937-87 (Paris : Centurion, 1988). 110 See Fouilloux, Les catholiques & l’unité chrétienne, 843-4. The Roman ‘Unitas’ was for some time critical of Couturier’s principles on the grounds that he lacked a precise theology. The official line still favoured a ‘return’ to the Catholic Church. Villain did not see this as true ecumenism (ibid. 854-5). The 1952 Encyclical Orientales Ecclesias of Pius XII said: ‘During next January, many people in many places will celebrate the customary Week of Prayer so that those who are separated from the Church’s unity may speedily return to the one fold…’ BLISS & GREILER Paul Couturier and Maurice Villain 279 and Villain saw ecclesial unity as a mystery in Christ. The healing of divisions among Christians must first be achieved at the level of spirituality, which will involve a change of heart that is achievable only in Christ. The outcome, or the nature of the Church’s unity, will be as Christ wills it, not as humans determine. This insight of Couturier was seldom acknowledged in his lifetime. However, his bequest to Villain was twofold: to continue the annual Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, and to take possession of his letters and documents about spiritual ecumenism and to use them as Villain judged best. We owe it to Villain that the heritage of Couturier was kept alive until Vatican II finally sanctioned the priority of spiritual ecumenism.111 After Couturier’s death in 1953 Villain decided to travel, to lecture, to publish and so make Couturier known beyond Lyons, transporting his ideas around the world. Father Michalon assumed a number of responsibilities in the organization of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, enabling Villain, shy, sensitive and sometimes irascible though he was, to travel the world promoting the cause of unity wherever he could.112 In the 1950s and in 1962, Villain lectured extensively in at least fifteen countries around the world. He had very good connections with eastern Christians, for example, visiting Lebanon on many occasions, meeting with Patriarch Maximos IV Saigh and Bishops Zoighby and Edelby. He also worked with them during Vatican II. Patriarch Maximos wrote the preface to his book on Spiritual Ecumenism. He also collaborated with Protestant pastors, taught at universities, lectured in cities and sometimes in the cinemas of small towns.113 Villain and the Holy Office Villain was one among the ecumenical pioneers. He acted with the backing of his Marist superiors and many bishops. Yet, ecumenical theology was still a field which brought some theologians to the notice of the Holy Office.114 In 1958, Villain’s book Introduction à

111 Unitatis Redintegratio, 8. 112 See Antoine Lestra, ‘L’exemple de l’abbé Paul Couturier’, La Croix, 2 February 1954 for a report of his address for the unity week in Lyons (newspaper clipping in APM 2881, III). 113 See APM 2881, II and III newspaper clippings, and Villain’s own writings for accounts of such journeys and personal encounters. 114 See Villain, Vers l’unité, 79-86. 280 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 l’œcumenisme appeared. It was immediately referred to the Holy Office which said it merited to be placed on the Index of forbidden books. Meantime, the Marist Superior-General received a letter signed by Cardinal Pizzardo stating that the book contained errors. Villain was required to sign a submission and retraction, otherwise canonical measures would follow. Villain obeyed. Within a matter of days of Pizzardo’s letter, the book was highly praised on Vatican Radio as being a remarkable work, deserving wide circulation. In fact, it went into four editions and was translated from French into Spanish, English, Portuguese, Italian and Polish. The leaders of other Christian Churches praised it highly. With the death of Pius XII, John XXIII saw the wisdom of setting up a Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity under the direction of Cardinal Bea. In a meeting on 6 February 1961 the Cardinal spoke frankly to Villain, saying that Humani Generis was mistaken because separated Christians are not only in the Body of Christ in voto, but by baptism are members in re. He then urged Villain to send a copy of his book to the Pope, and to continue his work. In February 1969, Cardinal Seper of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, wrote to the Superior-General ‘in severe terms’ about Villain’s leaflets which he sent every two months to the members of the Invisible Monastery of Christian Unity.115 Seper said these bulletins, sent to cloistered nuns and others, could cause confusion in matters of the Faith and asked the General, in concert with the French episcopate, to intervene because of Villain’s international influence. Cardinal Lefebvre of Bourges, president of the Doctrinal Episcopal Commission appeared one day at Villain’s door. He explained the purpose of his visit in the hope that Villain would understand. Villain did understand and in turn asked if he could respond without interruption. Not only was the Cardinal totally satisfied with Villain’s explanation but he broke down in tears and spoke of the pain caused by malicious tongues, which he himself had experienced. Villain made the decision not to allow himself to be

115 See Vers l’unité, 86-94, also Sacra Congregatio pro Doctrina Fidei, Prot. N. 110/46, Roma, 20 May 1969, to J. Buckley, Superior-General of the Society of Mary, Rome. The Congregation received Villain’s letter of 19 April 1969 and a report from the Marist provincial of France. After studying the documents they accepted the position of Villain. Copy in archives, General House, Rome. BLISS & GREILER Paul Couturier and Maurice Villain 281 bullied by the Holy Office again. He wrote a long letter and arranged for it to be handed to the under-secretary, Mgr Charles Moeller. Seper backed down and urged the Superior-General to pacify Villain!

Villain spoke of his Calvary and the cross and scandal of Christians separated.116 He never gave up hope, nor did he abandon his fundamental reliance on the power of prayer. ‘L’union sera l’affaire de ceux qui prient’ – ‘Union will be the concern of those who pray’.117 Only God knows what prayer contributes to a unity that can be given by God alone. Villain, in a reflective mood, said ‘I would like to say that of all the apostolates of my priestly life, that of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity was the most exciting, the one which profoundly marked my life, and which for so many years was my work.’118 4. The ‘Invisible Monastery of Christian Unity’ Villain’s memoirs, Vers l’unité, contain a whole section on the Invisible Monastery of Christian Unity, where he explicitly recalls the origins of this work.119 When Couturier and Villain met on a Thursday in December 1940, Couturier showed Villain a number of letters and documents concerning people who both prayed and suffered for the unity of Christians, and who died offering their lives for this intention, and he asked: should we go further and establish a spiritual unity among such people? Three in particular were mentioned: Sister Maria- Gabriella Sagheddu of the Cistercian Monastery of Grottaferata, Henri Holland, a Reformed pastor in Lyons, and the Anglican, Arthur Smallwood, Director of the Holbrook Admiralty School. Couturier said to Villain: ‘This is your work!’

116 Jacques Desseaux, ‘Une vie pour l’unité: Le P. Maurice Villain’, obituary in La Croix, 19 April 1977 refers to Villain in his book Portrait d’un précurseur. Victor Carlhian. 1875-1959 (Desclée de Brouwer), 1965. It speaks about the cross and calvary on his ecumenical path. De Baciocchi, in Catholicisme, mentions denunciations against Villain by some bishops and inquiries by the Holy Office in 1950 and 1969. 117 J. Desseaux, ‘Le père Villain: une vie pour l’unité’, Le Figaro, 22 March 1977, quoting Villain’s credo. 118 Vers l’unité, 57. 119 Vers l’unité, 71 – 94. 282 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Later, as Villain pondered their conversation, he asked himself: What does all this mean communally? Should we go further and establish a spiritual unity among such people, even a bonding among them? Villain was inspired and by December 1940 he coined the term: ‘The Invisible Monastery of Christian Unity’. Whereas the ‘monastery’ of Dombes120 saw pastors and priests from different Christian churches united in prayer, alongside Amay- Chevetogne, both of which were ‘visible monasteries’, Villain had the vision of an ‘invisible monastery’ of people united in prayer for unity, belonging as it were to the order of Jesus Praying. A practical example for him was the spiritual affiliation between the Catholic nuns of Grottaferrata and the Anglican monks of Nashdom.121 Villain drafted leaflets for members, offering reflections and prayer intentions for each day.122 Fundamental to his developing perception was the fact that all are baptized into Christ, no matter what their respective confessions. He identified Protestants and Anglicans, Orthodox and Catholic, and people ‘in those mysterious regions of baptism by desire which are touched, as in the Gospel, by the hem of Christ’s cloak.’123 Whereas the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity is open to all, and good as that is, it happens only once a year. Lawrence Duffy observes: This ‘monastery’ although invisible is a very concrete reality. It does not lie at some vague distance on the outskirts of the church, but is in the deepest reality of the church, at the very heart of the prayer of

120 The Trappist monastery of Dombes (Ain) was started by monks from Aiguebelle in 1863. Aiguebelle was a monastery where the Marist founder, Jean-Claude Colin, made retreats. The founder of Dombes, Dom Marie- Augustin, had the Marist, Claude Chavas, as his spiritual director. This little aside is interesting in the light of Villain being a Marist. The community of Chemin Neuf (founded in Lyons by a Jesuit in 1973) lives there now. The meetings of the Groupe des Dombes continues to produce helpful statements on theological issues. It is worth recording Jacques Desseaux’s observation in an article in Le Figaro, 1977, that the Dombes meetings really suited Villain who ‘had a hunger and thirst to discover the other from the inside.’ 121 M. Villain, L’émulation spirituelle, 1941; Lessard, ‘Dossier for a chronology’, APM, ‘Villain’. 122 For examples see APM 2881, III, and the appendix in M. Villain, L’émulation spirituelle, 1941. 123 Villain, Vers l’unité, 230. BLISS & GREILER Paul Couturier and Maurice Villain 283

Christ himself. Such people form as it were a community of the priestly prayer in the heart of the church as they leave their lives totally available to the Spirit for the unity of all Christians.124 Duffy further explains the four marks or notes of the Invisible Monastery of Christian Unity. The first is that the members place the cause of unity above all their other intentions; the second is the experience of suffering at the sight of the broken Body of Christ; the third mark, as a contrast, is that of joy since unity is now being reconstructed; and finally, friendship in Christ among the members of different denominations. Such people spontaneously understand one another and without making any doctrinal compromises, they are in touch at a level of spiritual friendship. Villain sought to establish a network of such people and to provide them with spiritual nourishment. He produced a few pages of daily intentions, a kind of personal letter, based for a time on the liturgical season and later on the prayer of Jesus (John 17). These pages were later published in book form, La priére de Jésus pour l’unité chrétienne: méditation œcuménique sur Jean 17125, a book that John XXIII used for bedside reading and about which he said to his private secretary, Mgr Capovilla, ‘Truly I find my spirit here.’ This ecumenical prayer network lasted until 1970, but its spirit is still alive. In Rome on 25 January 2008, concluding the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity in this centenary year, Benedict XV invited all to join the Invisible Monastery for Christian Unity: Ecumenism has great need, today as yesterday, of the great ‘invisible monastery’... of that immense community of Christians of all traditions who, without noise or fuss, pray and offer their lives that unity may be achieved..126

124 Lawrence Duffy. Unpublished text, Marist archives, 28. 125 Villain, Vers l’Unité, 75. See M. Villain, La priére de Jésus pour l’unité chrétienne. Méditation œcuménique sur Jean 17, (Casterman, 1960), translated as ‘Meditations on John 17’, One in Christ, 5/1-3 (1969); 6/1, 2 & 4 (1970), and 7/1 (1971). 126 Homily on the Feast of the Conversion of St Paul, at Vespers in the Basilica of St Paul Outside-the-Walls, Friday 25 January 2008. The homily refers to Couturier as the source. See . 284 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

The Invisible Monastery of Christian Unity – we have to discern what it is and what it is not. If we reflect on the original inspiration of Villain and Couturier, it is more than a denominational chain of prayer. It transcends the ‘Catholic Church’ or any particular church, but it presumes a real spiritual unity and commitment. It is an adventure – spiritually, but not in fantasy. The full title of Villain’s inspiration includes the words ‘of Christian Unity’,127 and it is precisely this point which caused the problem with the Holy Office of his day. Conclusion De Baciocchi summarizes Villain’s role thus: ‘I am convinced...that Villain had an important role in the Catholic acceptance of the perspective of Couturier (with the help of many known theologians).’128 During his lifetime, because of his writings and lectures, Villain was recognized by the other pioneers of the ecumenical movement. The centenary of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity offers an opportunity to rediscover him as one who made an important contribution to ecumenism’s theological, public and spiritual foundations. His starting point – as for Couturier – was to discern and pray for God’s will and to be open to how and when God wills. Couturier and Villain, together, took pioneering steps. Villain was much more than a biographer of Couturier. He kept alive the importance of spiritual ecumenism for many years, during which he developed a profound understanding of it. Had Villain not been there, the torch of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity may not have passed so safely from Couturier to its official approval at the Vatican Council. Although Couturier’s insights were seldom acknowledged in his lifetime, with the advent of ecumenism as part of Catholic life, his contribution is now rightfully acknowledged. Sadly, Villain has fallen from sight, and this should not be allowed to continue.

127 ‘Le monastére invisible de l’unité Chrétienne.’ See Vers l’unité, 86. 128 De Baciocchi, letter. 285 War I have grown to abhor all violence; I have crept, under the weight of guilt, into the terrible Presence, only the echo of my hesitant steps accompanying; wars flood the earth, and ebb away, leaving detritus, pain, and the broadcast seeds of further wars. This is the old threshing-floor, become the place to dare God’s holiness; only the stones of the pillars moan in their labours, the coldness of carved stone holding the Ark, the stone commandments, the distance that beaten gold insists upon; I know how God has divided himself from God, the blood of his creation spilling on the world. David. The slaughtering children of Israel. The innocent crucified in thousands on the hills, in the days of harvest, the barley being reaped. I shall beat them, sang the King, small as the dust of the earth; and he crows out songs of thanksgiving, Yahweh his rock, his shield, his spear. This God? Absence being such I call on him to walk with hurting feet amongst us. Can this God be born again? Can he suck affliction from a woman’s breasts? The hound’s teeth rip open the flanks of the running hare; lion cubs feast on the pulsing flesh of the hart. That we march, unarmed and bitter, to God’s door demanding peace. Shall man then, in his evil- doing survive? Let Yahweh himself now the paroxysms of pain, be crucified, like us, be made whole again, one God. And I see then the pietà: Yahweh-God the mother numb and brown and dark-eyed, never having understood, and the creature, naked, fair and cold-fleshed laid across his knees, released at last, and bloodless. John F. Deane From A Little Book of Hours published by Carcanet Press © Information about the author may be accessed at his website 286 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

THE PLIGHT OF IRAQI CHRISTIANS

Suha Rassam∗

Amidst the devastation following the 2003 invasion, this article focuses on the atrocities suffered by Iraqi Christians. The present persecution, and subsequent mass emigration, may bring to an end the nearly two millenial Christian presence in the land. Iraqi Christians desperately need a voice in their country’s reconstruction, dialogue with an irenic Islam, and the active interest and support of their Western coreligionists. To ignore their fate will be to the detriment of all.

Since the invasion of Iraq in March 2003 by American and coalition forces, the civilian Iraqi population has been subjected to horrific levels of violence and terror, which have in turn led to displacement of a large section of the population, internally within Iraq and to other parts of the region and abroad. The re-emergence of deep sectarian tensions between Shiite and Sunni Muslims, and between Arabs and Kurds, has contributed to a general reordering of Iraq’s political framework and had profound implications for the country’s minority groups. These include the Christians, Mandaeans, Yezidis, Shabak, Turkomans, Feli Kurds and Palestinians. All these minority communities are caught between the warring factions and are more affected than the majority Muslim and Kurdish populations. Preti Taneja from Minority Rights Group International has reported that ‘while all Iraqis live under threat of violence, evidence supports the belief that attacks are targeted against people because of a

∗ Suha Rassam was born in 1941 in Mosul to a medical family. Assistant professor of medicine in the university of Baghdad, she came to England in 1990 to do further medical research. After the war of 1991 her family joined her and they decided to stay in England. She has worked in hospitals in London and studied Eastern Christianity at London University. She works to publicise the plight of Iraqi Christians, and has co-founded ‘Iraqi Christians in Need’. She is the author of Christianity in Iraq: Its Origins and Development. In October this year she won the ‘Catholic Woman of the Year’ award. RASSAM The Plight of Iraqi Christians 287 difference in faith, creating a culture of distrust and fear between peoples of different communities.’129 Referring to the UN Refugee Agency’s report on the situation of minorities in October 2005, Taneja reports further that ‘Iraq’s minorities have become direct targets of political, economic and religious-based violence. Since the fall of Saddam Hussein, violations inflicted on these groups have been “noticeably aggravated”.’130 This article will only deal with the Christian community. Its crisis is particularly acute and its existence in its ancient homeland is now threatened for reasons that I will try to elaborate. The Christian community is by far the most important minority group, not only in view of its size, but also in view of the fact that it predated Islam by six hundred years and played a vital role in the establishment of the Islamic Abbasid civilization as well as in the emergence of modern Iraq. Before the second Gulf War, Christians made up between 4 and 5 per cent of the population at roughly one million individuals. Of these, 70 per cent were Chaldeans, the rest being Syrian Catholic, Syrian Orthodox, Assyrians, members of the Ancient Church of the East, as well as small numbers of Armenians, Protestants, Greek Orthodox and Catholics, Copts, Latins and Anglicans. The majority were to be found in the cities of Baghdad, Mosul and Basrah and the rest in the towns and villages of the plain of Mosul and Kurdistan. Since 2003, the majority of these Christians have been displaced and about half have left the country. Context The present plight of Iraqi Christians has to be understood within the context of the political, economic and religious situation, not only of Iraq, but also of the wider Middle East. It must also be linked to the historical realities of coexistence and rivalry between Christians and Muslims over the centuries. While political and economic issues are the most important factors that led to the invasion of Iraq in March 2003, the religious component is more difficult to assess, and has to be disentangled from the others. In assessing the historical factors, we

129 Preti Taneja, Assimilation, Exodus, Eradication: Iraq’s minority communities since 2003. Minority Rights Group International, 2007, 11. 130 Ibid., 5. 288 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 bear a responsibility to the memory of the fate of previous generations of Iraqi Christians, of whose experience we are the custodians. Throughout their history they suffered massacres, genocide, and displacement. Under Islamic rule these tragedies have been recurrent themes for Middle Eastern Christianity.131 With the rising current of worldwide Islamic radicalism, these questions pose themselves: 1. Are we seeing previous patterns being repeated? 2. Are we seeing the end of a presence that has spanned almost two millennia? 3. Are the Christians of Iraq to be abandoned to their fate? Historical background A brief historical preamble may help answer these questions. Christianity took root in Mesopotamia during the first Christian century and had become a well-structured community by the end of the second.132 Initially, its propagation was facilitated by the religious tolerance of the ruling Parthians. However by the end of the third century (AD 286), the Sassanid dynasty adopted Zoroastrianism as the official religion of the state, which resulted in sporadic persecution. Soon after, the emperor Constantine converted to Christianity (AD 312) and started to favour the Christians under his rule. The religious polarization that ensued within the two warring empires together with political factors resulted in massive persecution of the Christians of Mesopotamia between the years 339 and 379. During these forty years, thousand of Christians were martyred under the rule of Shapur II, often accused of being Roman collaborators. Following reconciliation with the Romans, Yazdgird I announced religious freedom within the Persian Empire in AD 410 and recognised the Christians as an independent community. However the recurrence of persecution with the same accusations caused the Church of the East to announce its autonomy and to severe any relation it had with the Western Church in AD 424. The Bishops of the capital became Patriarchs and a strong missionary activity followed eastwards to Iran,

131 See Sébastien de Courtois, The Forgotten Genocide: Eastern Christians, The Last Aramaeans, trans. Vincent Aurora (Gorgias Press, 2004). 132 See W.Baum and D.W. Winkler, The Church of the East: A Concise History (London & New York: Routledge Curzon, 2003), 8-9. RASSAM The Plight of Iraqi Christians 289 central Asia, India and China and southwards to the Arabian Peninsula.133 By the time of the arrival of the Muslim Arabs in the seventh century, the Church of the East rivalled all western churches in membership and learning and its Aramaic speaking Christians made up the majority of the settled population of Iraq.134 Under Muslim rule the Christians continued to work within the restrictions of dhimmi status and served their country in various professions, often in high ministerial office. They conducted dialogues with Muslim Caliphs and philosophers without losing their identity, gaining trust and protection.135 They had a near monopoly in the fields of medicine and the translation of Greek philosophical works into Arabic. The translation movement was of crucial importance since Greek works were the basis for the emergence of their civilization. However, Muslim tolerance diminished as the Christian population grew and as the number of Christians in high office who could plead for their communities decreased. During the reign of al-Mutawakil (847-861) their churches were destroyed and many were dismissed from their office for no other reason than being Christian. The Arab scholar Al-Jahiz wrote al-rad ala al-Nasara (Response to the Christians), while the historian-theologian al-Tabari wrote al-Din and al-Dawla (The State and Religion) reminding Christians that they were only dhimmis.136 As violence increased, due to the weakness of central government and the prejudice of local rulers, Christians gradually moved to the north of Mesopotamia and the mountains became their safe haven. After a short respite under Mongol rule, there were severe reprisals following the conversion of the Mongol Khan Ghazan to Islam in 1295.137 Two massacres occurred in Arbil and Amida in 1310 and 1317

133 See J.-M. Fiey, ‘L’expansion de l’Eglise de Perse’, ISTINA, 40/1 (1995) 149-157. 134 See D. Gutas, Greek Thought, Arab Culture: The Graeco-Arabic Translation Movement in Baghdad and Early ‘Abbasid society (London and New York: Routledge, 1998), 18. 135 S. Griffith, The Church in the Shadow of the Mosque: Christians and Muslims in the World of Islam (Princeton University Press, 2007). 136 J.-M. Fiey, The situation of the Christians during the Abbasid Caliphate translated to Arabic by H Zena (Beirut: Dar al-mashriq, 1990). 137 S. Rassam, Christianity in Iraq: Its Origin and Development to the Present Day (Gracewing, 2005), 91. 290 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 respectively and massive destruction occurred under the rule of Timur Lang.138 Under the Ottomans, Christians were treated as second class citizens under what was called the Millet system.139 The jizya tax was collected and the dhimmi rules were strictly applied in the cities, while the mountains were usually out of the reach of tax collectors. There, Christians lived alongside Kurdish tribes and a balanced co-existence was reached. Overall, the 500 years of Ottoman rule was accompanied by a progressive decline of Eastern Christianity.140 The disintegration of the Ottoman Empire saw a rise of internal tensions between communities and the carefully wrought balance between Christians and Muslims was disturbed. During the nineteenth century and until World War I, the claim of Christians for equality came to be interpreted as breaking the dhimmi contract of submission to their Muslim rulers. They were treated ruthlessly with evictions, forced conversions, rape and murder. Several massacres ensued from the middle of the nineteenth century and continued under the rule of the secular party, ‘The Committee for Union and Progress’.141 Over a million Christians, mainly Armenian but also large numbers from the Church of the East, Chaldeans, Syrian Orthodox and Syrian Catholics were massacred during the late period of the Ottoman Empire and by the newly formed Turkish state.142 The modern state of Iraq was created after the war in 1932 with a constitution that stressed equality for all citizens irrespective of religion and race. The majority of Iraqi Christian welcomed the monarchy and integrated themselves within the general population.

138 J.-M. Fiey, Chrétiens Syriaques sous les Mongols: Il-Khanat de Perse XIII- XIVs. Subsidia 44, (Louvain: 1975). 139 S. Gero, ‘Only a change of master? The Christians of Iran and the Muslim Conquest’, Cahiers de Studia Iranica, 5 (1987), 47-57. 140 Bat Ye’or, The Decline of Eastern Christianity under Islam: From Jihad to Dhimmitude, Seventh to Twentieth Century (Madison NJ: Fairleigh Dickenson University Press, 1996); B. Ye’or, Islam and Dhimmitude: Where Civilizations Collide (Madison, NJ: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 2002). 141 D. Gaunt, Massacres, Resistance, Protectors: Muslim-Christian Relations in Eastern Anatolia during World War I (Piscataway NJ: Gorgias Press, 2006). 142 See ibid.; also J. Naayem, Shall this Nation Die? with a preface by Lord Bryce and an historical essay by G. Oussani (New York: Chaldean Rescue, 253 Madison Ave., 1920). Available at RASSAM The Plight of Iraqi Christians 291

However the continued demand of some of the Assyrians for self-rule resulted in a tragic massacre in Simmel in 1933.143 Despite several setbacks the churches flourished and there was no direct persecution of Christians until the end of Saddam’s regime when his collaboration with some Islamist groups resulted in isolated incidents of attacks on Christians.144 The Contemporary Period The violence and chaos that engulfed the country after the invasion of Iraq in March 2003 affected all sections of society. The picture portrayed in western media is of extremist Sunni and Shiite Muslims persecuting each other and of Kurds pushing for an independent Kurdistan. What has not been portrayed is that extremists from both Islamic factions are also persecuting non-Muslims, while the Kurds are intimidating Christians and forcing them to integrate within Kurdistan, in order to increase their numbers and so strengthen their claim for an independent state. Further evidence suggests that there are those who want to see the end of the Christian presence in Iraq and to create a pure Islamic state. Father Basil Yaldo was kidnapped in September 2006. Speaking to the Catholic News Service, he stated that he was not kidnapped for money, but that his abductors’ demands included that he should tell Patriarch Delly that all Christians should leave Iraq. The concentration of Christians in troubled areas namely Baghdad, Mosul and Basrah, have made them more liable to suffer violence. Seen as soft targets they have suffered more from kidnapping, extortion and humiliation. While the two factions of Islam as well as the Kurds are vying for power and have militias to protect them, Christians and other minorities are not seeking power and do not have militias to protect them. All they ask for is to be allowed to live in peace with equal rights, in what they feel is their own country where they have lived since before the arrival of Islam and to which they have contributed at various stages of its development.

143 S. Rassam, Christianity in Iraq, 145-147. 144 For example, on 15.8.2002, Sr Cecilia Moshi Hanna, a nun of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, was murdered in her convent by stabbing and beheading. 292 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

The anti-Christian activities of recent years include the following: 1. Attacks on individuals with specific professions and practices that are considered un-Islamic Soon after the invasion, alcohol merchants, hairdressers, cinema owners, musicians and dealers in musical instruments, videos and CDs were targeted. These professions are considered un-Islamic and are mostly practised by Christians. In May 2003 the Shiite Sheik Muhammad al-Fartoosi issued a fatwa banning alcohol, commanding women to wear al-Hijab, and cinemas to close, stressing that his fatwa was not just for Muslims but for all people, and threatening that he had up to a thousand armed men under his control.145 2. Attacks on women Christian women were forced to wear the hijab even though it is not part of their culture and religion. Many of those who did not comply have been raped and killed.146 3. Intimidation and extortion This takes the form of associating Christians with the perceived Christian West and using a language of hate. Messages are conveyed in various ways: graffiti on walls, by mobile phone, or on pieces of paper thrust under the doors of Christian houses calling them dirty infidels, crusaders and collaborators with western powers, or dhimmis who have to pay the jizya or leave. Some mullahs have spoken from their mosques, telling the faithful that the belongings of Christians are halal (lawful) for them, that they do not need to buy them as the Christians will be leaving, and when they do, it will all be theirs anyway. Such messages create an atmosphere of fear and render the community unsustainable. In addition, citizens in Mosul were approached directly by knocking on their doors and jizya collected from them.147 Andrew Kramer reported that Archbishop Rahho was forced to hand over his faithful’s weekly collection to the insurgents. When it stopped he was killed.148

145 See ‘Iron hand cleric issues fatwa amid Baghdad chaos’, Rory McCarthy, The Guardian, 21 May 2003. 146 Ibid. 147 Personal information from a friend who has fled to Aleppo in order to avoid paying further huge monthly sums. 148 See Andrew E. Kramer, ‘For Iraqi Christians, Money Bought Survival’, New York Times, 26 June 2008. RASSAM The Plight of Iraqi Christians 293

4. Threats to religious leaders A threat to a Church leader came as early as June 2003, to be followed by many others. Fifteen men of religion have been abducted, some tortured, others released after large sums were paid.149 Four priests, a protestant pastor, six deacons and one bishop have been murdered, some after kidnap, others shot dead on the doorsteps of their church.150 5. Attacks on Churches A total of forty-five churches and places of worship have been attacked and many more closed. The first concerted attack on six churches occurred on 1 August 2004 to be followed by many others. Crosses have been removed from churches, convents emptied and occupied by militias and the seminary and Babylon theological college relocated to Arbil in the Kurdistan region of northern Iraq. 6. Ethnic Cleansing During the summer of 2007 individuals were threatened in their own homes: ‘Convert to Islam, or leave, or face the consequences’. This is how al-Dora district of Baghdad was practically emptied of its Christians. Al-Dora used to be called the Vatican of Iraq in view of its predominantly Christian population, the presence of two cathedrals as well as of several churches, the Chaldean seminary and Babylon theological college. Its population comprised middle and lower income families and some were very poor. They left with nothing but

149 Georgis Kasmousa (Syrian Catholic bishop, 18.1.05); Ra’ad Washan (Chaldean priest, 17.7.06); Sa'ad Sirop (Chaldean priest, 15.7.06); Basil Yaldo (Chaldean priest, 16.7.06); Douglas al-Baz (Chaldean priest, 19.11.06); Ami Abdul Ahad al-Rais, Chaldean priest 5.12.06); Gibrael Shammami (Chaldean priest, 2.4.07); Nawzat Putrus (Chaldean priest, 19.5.07); Hani Abdul Ahad (Chaldean priest, 6.6.07); Pios Affas (Syrian Catholic priest 13. 10. 07); Mazin Mattoka (Syrian Catholic priest, 13.10.07); Sharbil; Faraj Rahho; Poulis Iskander; Mundhir al-Dibre 150 Poulis Iskander (11.10.06 Mosul. Syrian Orthodox, beheaded and dismembered after kidnap); Mundhir al-Dibir (26.11.06 Mosul. Protestant pastor, killed after kidnap); Raghid Ganni with three deacons (3.6.07 Mosul. Chaldean priests and deacons, shot at the door of their church); Faraj Rahho and three companions (29.2.08 Mosul. Chaldean bishop kidnapped and his three companions shot dead. The bishop’s body was left in a shallow grave on 13.3.08); Yousif Abboudi (4.4.08 Baghdad. Syrian Orthodox, shot dead at the door of his church). 294 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 their clothes and are now dependent on the charity of relatives living abroad, or of the churches. Some could not afford to leave the country and moved to relatively safer areas of Baghdad. One parish with which our charity ‘Iraqi Christians in Need’ was involved received over a thousand families. 7. Marginalisation and assimilation Marginalisation of minorities in the elections and political process has been widely reported.151 In Mosul, ballot papers were not delivered in a large number of villages with significant numbers of Christian voters.152 When the government was formed in April 2005, minorities and females were under-represented.153 The long awaited constitution contains ambiguities regarding the role of religion and the rights of minorities. It was drafted in haste and minorities were under-represented in the drafting process.154 Apart from enshrining Islam as the official religion of the state, there was fear of future misinterpretation of article 2, of which section (a) states that ‘no law may be enacted that contradicts the established provisions of Islam’, while section (b) decrees that ‘no law may be enacted that contradicts the provisions of democracy’. Interpretation of article 2 depends on Iraq’s Supreme Federal Court whose composition is laid down in article 92 of the Constitution. It is feared that minorities will find it difficult to gain posts in the judiciary, which will leave them without a voice in the Court system.155 In Kurdistan, the situation is characterised by an attempt to assimilate minorities into a Kurdish nation. Iraqi citizens are forced to join a Kurdish party before being allowed to live and work in Kurdish

151 See ‘Iraqi bishop questions the validity of national election’, Catholic Herald, 6 January 2006. Also, J.Pontifex, ‘Iraq: Election Catastrophe’, ACN News, 5 January 2006. 152 Ali A. Allawi, The Occupation of Iraq: Winning the War, Losing the Peace (Yale University Press, 2007), 391. 153 S. Rassam, Christianity in Iraq, 25. On 10 April 2005 prime minister Ibrahim al-Ja’fari formed the Cabinet comprising: seventeen Shiite members (of whom one was female); eight Kurdish members (three of whom were female); five Sunni Arabs (one of whom is female); and one female Christian. 154 See F.A. Jabar, The Constitution of Iraq: Religious and Ethnic Relations, London, MRG, 2005. 155 See P. Taneja, Assimilation, Exodus, Eradication: Iraq’s Minority Communities Since 2003. Report of MRG, 2007. RASSAM The Plight of Iraqi Christians 295 areas and Arabs are not welcome. Christians have been welcomed but have had to register as Chaldeo-Assyrians and not as Arab Christians, which some are; and the Syrian Orthodox community feels excluded from this term. As Iraq’s Minority Council spokesman has stated: ‘The Kurds are causing rifts between minority groups for their own purposes… They are buying people…’156 8. Displacement It comes as no surprise that Christians have been leaving the country in large numbers since 2003. Displacement is not new to Iraqi Christians. Emigration started at the beginning of the nineteenth century and continued into and after World War I, following massacres in Turkey. Attracted by the favourable economic conditions of the New World, many headed to the USA. They subsequently attracted friends and relatives and formed large communities especially in Detroit, Chicago and San Diego. Later political events and internal conflict following the formation of the modern state of Iraq led to further emigration, from the massacre of 1933 to the conflict between the government and the Kurds in the nineteen-sixties. During the Iraq-Iran war people left because they did not want to fight a war they did not believe in. After the first Gulf War and during the long years of sanctions, emigration involved all sections of society. By then people had lost hope of any good happening to their country and felt that there was no future for their children. The destination was no longer the USA but Canada, Australia, and New Zealand. These countries accepted people with specific criteria, draining Iraq of the qualified and those with financial capabilities. The displacement that has occurred since the invasion of Iraq in 2003 however is quite different. People are now fleeing for their lives. They are usually the impoverished who could not afford to leave earlier or those who would not leave for specific reasons. It is estimated that since then, more than half of the Christian population have fled their homes for relatively safer areas of Iraq, or for neighbouring countries. Initially they went to Jordan, while during the last two years the main destination has been Syria, but also Lebanon, Egypt, Turkey, the Gulf Styates and other countries.

156 Ibid., 17. 296 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Amongst the estimated two million Iraqi refugees in neighbouring countries, Christians predominate. Mowafaq Abdul al Raoof, spokesman for the ministry of migration and displacement in Iraq, said to the UN news agency IRIN: ‘According to our estimates, nearly half of the minority communities have already fled to other countries.’157 In Syria, 44 per cent of Iraqi asylum seekers were recorded as Christians since UNHCR began registration in December 2003, even though Christians constitute less than 5 per cent of the population.158 In another report, an official from the UNHCR, speaking on condition of anonymity, told UN News Agency IRIN that minorities of Iraq make up about 30 per cent of Iraqi refugees, whose total number is thought to be 1.8 million.159 Iraqi refugees living in neighbouring countries are not granted official refugee status although they are registered by the UNHCR as such. In some countries, they have to pay fines when their visas expire, which can amount to large sums of money annually. This was especially so in Lebanon where hundreds ended up in prison because they could not pay the exorbitant price they were requested to pay. The main help for these refugees comes from their relatives who have already gone to western countries. Those who have no relatives abroad are destitute and are only helped by the churches and some charitable institutions. Some are resorting to desperate measures, selling their kidneys or pursuing illegal activities and the psychological problems are enormous. It is estimated that there are about 70,000-100,000 Christians in Syria, 100,000 in Jordan and probably another 100,000 in other neighbouring countries. At the end of 2007 there were reports of improvement in the general security situation and émigrés were encouraged to go back to their homes. Buses in front of the Iraqi embassy in Damascus gave free transport and families were given the equivalent of $800 in order to start their lives again. Only a few Christians returned, as they needed

157 ‘Iraq: minorities living tormented days under sectarian violence.’ . 158 Mark Latimer, Mass exodus, Guardian Weekly, October 20-26. See also . 159 IRIN, 4 January 2007. RASSAM The Plight of Iraqi Christians 297 greater assurances. Their fears were substantiated when yet more coordinated attacks were launched on churches in January (six churches and convents attacked in Mosul and Baghdad on 6 January 2008; two churches attacked in Kirkuk on 9 January), as well as the killings of the Bishop of Mosul and of the Syrian Orthodox priest referred to earlier. The Challenge The challenge that presents itself to Iraq now, is how to deal with the complicated religious-political situation that has its roots deep in our history. This is not to forget the difficulty in dealing with the economic factor i.e. oil, and the wider political factors i.e. the Palestinian-Israeli problem. The question that poses itself is, will there ever be a stable situation in which the Christians of Iraq are treated as equal citizens in the near future? With the Islamist agendas of the majority political parties that are ruling the country at the present time, Christians do not feel secure. As for the safety of the Kurdistan area for Christians, it is clear that this safety is only relative and temporary. The conflict with Turkey has already erupted and there are reports of Kurdish Islamic fundamentalists. Moreover one cannot forget that the Kurds were party to the Turks in massacring the Christians during Ottoman times. Presently the Kurds are trying to absorb Christians within Kurdistan in order to increase their numbers in an effort to strengthen their claim for an independent state. The plan of including the Christian villages of the Nineveh plain within Kurdistan is being fiercely resisted by the Sunnis of Iraq in general and those of Mosul in particular. As for the solution of providing an independent Safe Haven for the Christians, I think that it is even more contentious. Apart from questions as to whether such a project is viable at all in view of the relatively small number of Christians in question, such an enclave could only survive with western support. Apart from the fact that nobody can ensure such support in the future, its consideration would only fortify Muslim claims that Christians are western agents. Squeezed between Iran, Turkey and Syria could such an enclave ever survive? It would be little more than a convenient dumping ground for the Christians and a recipe for disaster. Those who ask for the creation 298 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 of a Safe Haven are some of the Assyrian Christians. Leaders from other denominations have spoken strongly against it. Bishop Sako of Kirkuk has been outspoken in this respect and has reiterated that the only acceptable way for Christians to live in Iraq is within a united democratic state where Christians and Muslims are treated with equality and justice.160 With respect to particular Christian-Muslim conflicts, it is clear that confrontation only causes further problems. The only possible way forward is that of dialogue. We have to tap into irenic Muslim voices and support those countries that have a positive attitude to Christians. There are numerous Muslim voices that abhor what is happening. Ali al-Sarraf, in his article in Arabic: ‘The Christians Arabs are our family: why are they being persecuted?’ emphasises that Christians were at the forefront of intellectual and cultural revival in the Middle East as well as leaders in nationalistic movements in the Arab world and that it would be a great loss for the Muslim world to lose them. In the final analysis, a fair and just solution for the problems of the Middle East is a necessary precondition for a solution to the problems of Iraqi Christians. Summary and conclusion I return to the questions asked at the beginning of this article: 1. Are we seeing previous patterns being repeated? When looked at through the lens of history, what is happening now seems to be a repetition of what happened in previous centuries and a continuation of what happened in late Ottoman times. Under Muslim rule there seems to be a pattern repeating itself: tolerance of non- Muslims with discrimination as dhimmis, pressure to convert by different means such as marriage or financial gain, violence, displacement and massacres then back to dhimmitude again. The short intervening periods of secular rule give the community a chance to recover and build itself, only to be stifled by an unreasonable backlash on the part of Muslim radicals. Mixing religion with politics, their retaliation against the defenceless Christians, their brothers and sisters who have coexisted with them over the centuries, is unreasonable.

160 ‘Iraq moving towards division.’ Interview with Asia News, 16 Jan 2007. RASSAM The Plight of Iraqi Christians 299

2. Are we seeing the end of a presence that has spanned almost two millennia? It is obvious that the impact of the 2003 war on Iraqi Christians has been devastating and that this community is now under threat of extinction. The Bishop of the Chaldeans of Syria, Antoine Audo, stated in his talk at Heythrop in November 2007: What a loss for Islam, the Western world, and for Israel, if the Christendom of Iraq suddenly disappeared. Should the minorities of the Middle East pay the price for what one Harvard Professor Samuel Huntingdon called ‘the Clash of civilizations’? Or would their continuing presence through all the misadventures of the history be a sign of hope, respect and justice for the whole world? Do the Christians of Iraq pose a challenge and a question to the world beyond themselves?161 3. Are the Christians of Iraq to be abandoned to their fate? Iraqi Christian leaders of different denominations have spoken on various occasions asking the government for full representation in the political process. The Holy Father Pope Benedict XVI has manifested his concern for Iraqi Christians on different occasions, and showed his spiritual closeness to them during the elevation of the Patriarch of the Chaldeans Emmanuel III Delly to the College of Cardinals on 24 November 2007. He has met with President Bush, with the Iraqi President Talabani and most recently with Iraqi Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliky in Rome and specifically asked that the rights of Christians be safeguarded. In June 2008, Pax Christi hosted a Christian delegation from Northern Iraq at its international office in Brussels, where they met with representatives of the European Union and the European Commission. The Iraqi representatives portrayed the dangers their communities are facing and asked for help from the international community to ensure that ‘policies are not simply words but are being put into practice… it is not aid so much as the right climate that was needed so that all communities benefit from re-construction.’162

161 . 162 See report at . 300 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

The refugee problem has to be addressed immediately. Many international organisations as well as the local churches have been supporting the refugees by distributing food parcels, blankets and other necessities. Our newly formed charity, Iraqi Christians in Need, is helping by providing school fees for some children who have lagged behind, aid for widows who have no relatives in western countries to support them, as well as funds for projects providing young adults with skills that help them get on in life, such as courses in English and computer skills. Unfortunately although such efforts are of great help, the problem is that they are fragmented and intermittent. More concerted effort is badly needed and the international community should make sure that those refugees who have lost their homes and livelihood are properly compensated. They are presently stranded with their families in limbo with no hope of a future for their children. Inasmuch as further emigration is not in the interest of the Christian community of Iraq, as it will ultimately lead to emptying the country of its Christian population, I believe that western countries should accept some of the refugees, especially those traumatised by the kidnapping or killing of their relatives. Sweden, France and Germany have accepted some.163 However, Germany’s plea to the European union to accept Christian refugees was refused.164 Subsequently the European Parliament discussed this problem but no specific decision was taken. The Canadian Catholic Bishops Conference wrote a letter to their Prime Minister on 25 January 2008 portraying the special plight of the Christians of Iraq as victims of injustice and irrational retaliations and asking the government to give special attention to Christians applying at Canadian Consulates for visas.165 The increasing influx of Eastern Christians into western countries highlights the importance of supporting them to preserve their cultural identity in the diaspora. The churches are obvious places where this can be done but western religious institutions should all be involved in supporting them not only for their own sake but also in order to address the ignorance amongst western Christians of the

163 See Le Figaro, 10 décembre 2007; Le Monde, 23 mars 2008. 164 See 165 See RASSAM The Plight of Iraqi Christians 301 importance of Eastern Christianity in general and of the Church of Iraq in particular. In addition, various academic institutions should make an effort to include the study of Eastern Christianity in their curriculum. An academic institute for Eastern Christianity will not only support Eastern Christians but also give prominence to their rich culture and their importance within the Islamic world in which they have lived for centuries. Their survival against all the odds and remarkable spiritual developments within a dominant Islamic culture holds the seeds of hope for all who seek a better understanding between the two religions. Such initiatives will also help to promote understanding between Eastern and Western Christianity and foster the ecumenical relations which will be a key marker for future European religious and political identity. In this respect may I conclude by quoting Sidney Griffith: Now is the time to take steps to remedy the situation, first of all because the intellectual heritage of the Eastern Christians belongs to the whole church and we are the poorer without any knowledge of it, but it is also the case in the multicultural world of the twentieth century, when Muslim–Christian relations are becoming daily more important worldwide, that the experience of the Christians of the Orient who have lived with Muslims for centuries and who have emigrated to the West together with the Muslims, is immediately relevant for those in the West who could be in dialogue with Muslims today and who would welcome some deeper knowledge of the history of our shared religious and intellectual heritage. The time is long overdue for the Christians of the West to extend their modern ecumenical concerns to their coreligionists in the Islamic World.166

166 S. Griffith, The Church in the Shadow of the Mosque: Christians and Muslims in the World of Islam (Princeton University Press, 2007), 3. 302 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

HEALING THE DISTORTED FACE: DOCTRINAL REINTERPRETATION(S) AND THE CHRISTIAN RESPONSE TO THE OTHER

Peter J. Admirand*

This essay examines how a ‘change’ in a key confessional belief – in this case the Christian notion of vicarious atonement – alters the context for participants of interfaith dialogue. It will then argue how and why the recognition of such development is an important area for interfaith participants to be conscious of (particularly as a barometer of their reception of the Other) and for various religious institutions to accept and encourage, even if begrudgingly. 1) Introduction Religious doctrine changes. Some change coalesces incrementally though various upheavals and the monotonies of centuries. Other reinterpretations come suddenly like a thief in the night – or so it seems to some. No matter the process of such change, doctrine – in many ways, the skin of one’s religion – often needs to be shed for growth, health, and survival. In our fractious, pluralist world, where even sacred beliefs perform and are interpreted differently in various contexts,167 it seems spiritually and morally necessary never to turn

* Peter J. Admirand is currently a Lecturer and Programme Co-Ordinator for the M.Phil. in Ecumenics at the Irish School of Ecumenics, Trinity College Dublin. He received his Ph.D. in Theology at Trinity College Dublin and graduate degrees in Theology and British and American Literature from Boston College and Georgetown University, respectively. His current research interests include an examination of how testimonies of mass atrocity impact interreligious dialogue; Christology amidst the world religions, especially in the context of Jewish-Christian dialogue; and an analysis of the representation of God in literature. 167 In his examination of ‘worship in a multicultural and multi-religious context’, Peter C. Phan presents the case of Catholic members of the matriarchal Co Ho, ‘a group of the Mon-Khmer tribal peoples that populate Vietnam’. See Being Religious Interreligiously: Asian Perspectives on Interfaith Dialogue (Maryknoll: Orbis, 2004), 245. Explicating how the Eucharist is perceived by Co Ho culture, Phan writes: ‘But what is stranger still is how the ADMIRAND Doctrinal Reinterpretation(s) 303 any belief into an idol. As the Buddha is said to have remarked with hyperbole in regards to the path towards achieving nirvana: ‘Kill everything that stands in your way. If you should meet the Buddha, kill the Buddha… If you should meet the arahats on your way, kill them, too.’168 And yet, perhaps certain aspects of one’s doctrine are inviolable, entwined with the essence of one’s religious identity. For what is Islam without a professed adherence to the Qur’an as the Word of God or a Confucianism that downplays the importance of filial piety? This essay, therefore, will analyse the context and repercussion of a development in the theological doctrine of the Other and its impact on interreligious dialogue. More specifically, I will reflect upon how a ‘change’ in a key confessional belief – in this case the Christian notion of vicarious atonement − alters the context for participants of interfaith dialogue. I will then argue how and why the recognition of such development (which does not mean it, too, will not one day be refined or refuted) is an especially important area for interfaith participants to be conscious of and for various religious institutions to accept and encourage, even if begrudgingly. One clarification of terminology: While my use of the term ‘the Other’ is much in debt to the work of Emmanuel Levinas, a few words about the term would be helpful for my purposes here. One’s ultimate calling and obligation in our response to the Other is to provide the space and hope for that Other to unfold and reveal his or her naked identities – while still remaining an Other – a distinct, autonomous being. Such identities, always pluralized because we are many selves in one self (husband, father, son, brother, teacher, friend, teammate, etc.), ideally reveal themselves without the clamour and restrictions of tiny white hosts and wine are supposed to symbolize food and drink for your people. You understand that they are symbols of spiritual nourishment; still, your people don’t eat bread made of wheat or drink wine made of grapes. These things are all imported, and only the rich, surely not your tribe, can afford them. Somehow the truth of Christ’s body and blood as food and drink, especially for the poor for whom he had a preferential love, is largely obscured. And the very parsimonious way the priest doles out the hosts and measures the wine belies the generosity and abundance of God’s love and God’s desire to share divine life with us’. Ibid., 247. 168 Quoted in Raimundo Panikkar, The Silence of God: The Answer to the Buddha (Maryknoll: Orbis, 1989), 154. 304 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 external factors. When such external factors (peer pressure, cultural/institutional expected roles) dominate, the individual, autonomous self remains hidden. Connection and solidarity become piecemeal at best. In this light, it is also indispensable to acknowledge how we are, in many ways, also Other to ourselves. For Christians, this means we must never forget that the face of Jesus is manifest in the face of the marginalized, the lost, and the nameless – the ‘anonymous poor’ as Jon Sobrino has interpreted the term – ‘those who have no voice, no freedom, no dignity; they are those who have no name, no existence.’169 How we respond to such faces inevitably marks and forms our own faces. The eternal quest to ‘Know thyself’ therefore is intimately interlinked with our response to the calling of the Other. It is in this response (whose aim should be ongoing relationship) that we begin to be both Other and me. While this paper has limited its focus to an analysis of the Other’s on-going understanding of his or her theological tenets – or the interpretations of one’s religious doctrines and beliefs – the attitudes one brings to that discussion are at the heart of how one encounters such an Other in the entirety of one’s life. In such an encounter, we must acknowledge the sacred, dynamic relationship between the Other and his or her interpretation and response toward the fundamental beliefs or attitudes that constitute religious identity. While many of these beliefs may be traditionally closed to reinterpretation, and an outsider may believe he or she is in a position to articulate the Other’s views, one must always be hesitant to speak for the Other and to assume in advance what the Other will say. In the context of the voiceless and anonymous poor, to speak for another must always coincide with working to establish the conditions for those persons to be heard themselves. In the context of interreligious dialogue, to try to articulate the Other’s views is a sacred obligation. To do so is to expose one’s limits and biases and to seek correction and further refinement. One speaks with the hope that one is doing justice to the Other’s views while aware of one’s limits and fragility.

169 Jon Sobrino, ‘Depth and Urgency of the Option for the Poor’ in No Salvation Outside the Poor: Prophetic–Utopian Essays, trans. Margaret Wilde (Maryknoll: Orbis, 2008), 26. ADMIRAND Doctrinal Reinterpretation(s) 305

To begin to reflect on these ideas, I will now analyse how many non- Christians articulate the purpose of Jesus’ crucifixion for Christians. 2) The Response (of Non-Christians to the Atonement) In the volume Jesus in the World’s Faiths170, scholars from various religions reflect upon the potential meaning(s) of Jesus for non- Christians. Interpretations, as one may expect, are wide-ranging, as one can contrast from a glance at the title of Jacob Neusner’s essay – ‘Why Jesus has no Meaning to Judaism’ – as opposed to Thich Nhat Han’s: ‘Jesus and Buddha as Brothers’. Interestingly, a number of commentators focus or remark upon the meaning of Christ’s crucifixion, and what would be called the dominant Anselmian theory of vicarious atonement. Briefly, the theory of vicarious atonement, sometimes referred to as the penal substitution model, contends that human beings, mired in the effects of original sin, and so fallen from grace, are saved because Jesus, as God Incarnate, bore all the sins of humanity in the past, present, and future. The possibility for humankind to be saved was restored; God’s wrath was averted. In the essay, ‘Hindu Views of Jesus,’ Chakravarthi Ram-Prasad comments that: ‘The Christian significance of Christ as the one who took on the sins of humanity in the eyes of a just God simply has no meaning or role in Hindu thinking.’171 The Atonement, Ram-Prasad writes, ‘makes little sense in any Hindu cosmology, where there is no doctrine of original sin, only of consequential action, and where creation is understood in a variety of radically different narratives.’172 While many Hindus laud the importance given to sacrifice and redemption in the Atonement, at stake is the assertion by Christians on the meaning of Christ’s death and Jesus’ uniqueness as a saviour. Thus, if such a supposedly central point has no meaning or role for Hindus, an integral topic for Christian-Hindu dialogue is immediately cut off. Could altering the context or purpose of Christ’s death further the dialogue between Hindus and Christians?

170 Jesus in the World’s Faiths: Leading Thinkers from Five Religions Reflect on His Meaning’, ed. Gregory A. Barker (Maryknoll: Orbis, 2005). 171 Chakravarthi Ram-Prasad, ‘Hindu Views of Jesus’ in Jesus in the World’s Faiths, 86. 172 Ibid., 88. 306 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

In another essay of this volume, Mona Siddiqui asks how Muslims and Christians are supposed to face and interpret the differing formulations of Christ in the Gospels and the Qur’an: ‘Can Christians find a way of accepting the Qur’an as divine revelation without this acceptance contradicting their religious stance of Christ’s death leading to man’s salvation?’173 The keys to begin to answer this question are an understanding of why Muslims would reject the need traditionally given to the meaning of the Christian Atonement and how one interprets and links salvation with Christ. For Mustansir Mir, ‘The Muslim position on the subject can be summed up in the dictum: God so loved humanity that He forgave Adam and Eve. To a Muslim mind, it is entirely credible that Adam and Eve, as first offenders, were good candidates for divine mercy.’174 Such a view also resonates with Judaism, in which there is nothing like original sin. In fact, as James Kugel reminds us in his magisterial How to Read the Bible: A Guide to Scripture Then and Now: ‘[E]ven today… most people… are surprised to learn that the phrase “Fall of Man” is not to be found in the Genesis story, nor is there any mention of sinless existence in Eden, nor is the serpent identified in the story as the devil (he is just a talking snake).’175 Kugel thus shows the divide between the doctrine of original sin in Christianity and the text of Genesis purported to support it. In the volume For the Sake of Heaven and Earth, Irving Greenberg draws upon the implications of the differing views of Christian and Jewish readings of human nature, especially as filtered through the Genesis creation stories. Greenberg writes: In Judaism… the teaching that human nature is balanced, torn between a good inclination and a bad inclination, became the dominant one. Again, this more benign view of human nature strengthened the affirmation that humans could turn to God and save themselves through their own efforts and God’s merciful grace.… The Christian extreme solution that God’s own son provided the essential vicarious atonement for sinful humanity and that without that intervention humans were beyond salvation appeared in Jewish eyes to be excessive

173 Mona Siddiqui, ‘Jesus in Popular Muslim Thought’ in Jesus in the World’s Faiths, 130. 174 Mustansir Mir, ‘Islamic Views of Jesus’ in Jesus in the World’s Faiths, 122. 175 James L. Kugel, How to Read the Bible: A Guide to Scripture Then and Now (New York: Free Press, 2007), 51. ADMIRAND Doctrinal Reinterpretation(s) 307

to the problem and offensive to monotheism. This clash in judgment about divine and human nature drove a widening wedge between the two religious communities.176 For Greenberg, the initial (mis)interpretation of the creation stories of Genesis that has traditionally run from Paul through Augustine and the Dominicans and Church Reformers like Luther and Calvin not only is a prominent divide between Jews and Christians but is also misapplied to any potential meaning and significance of Christ’s crucifixion. While Greenberg also points out the problem of the Trinity for Jews, he also elucidates why the need for vicarious atonement highlights polar conceptions of the nature of humanity, and consequently, of the God who created them. Michael Kogan in his Opening the Covenant: A Jewish Theology of Christianity expresses similar reservations. While he has promisingly written that Jews ‘need not feel obliged to dismiss the Christian interpretation [of the Suffering Servant] as inauthentic’, he also explains why the Christian theory of vicarious atonement is problematic for Jews: This interpretation of Jesus’ death as an atonement for the sins of the world seems strange and foreign to Jews who believe that the problem of sin had already been dealt with in the Torah. Its text, together with later authoritative commentaries, outlines what is for us the proper path of life, the means of repentance, and the forgiveness of sins.177 We can get a glimpse of what Kogan is referring to if we examine a passage from Genesis Rabbah, where the rabbis even see redemption in the midst of God’s punishments.178 Of the passage, ‘In toil you shall eat of it all the days of your life’ (Gen. 3:17), we read: R. Eleazer says: ‘The Scripture links redemption to making a living, and making a living to redemption. Just as redemption is a matter of miracles, so making a living is a matter of miracles. Just as making a living takes place every day, so redemption takes place every day.’

176 Irving Greenberg, ‘Covenantal Partners in a Postmodern World’ in For the Sake of Heaven and Earth: The New Encounter between Judaism and Christianity (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 2004), 75. 177 Michael S. Kogan, Opening the Covenant: A Jewish Theology of Christianity (Oxford University Press, 2008), 116. 178 For a discussion of the issue of the loss of immortality as the main punishment in the Genesis creation stories, see Kugel, The Bible Then and Now, 50-52. 308 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

R. Samuel bar Nahman: ‘But making a living is greater than redemption, for redemption takes place through the agency of a divine messenger, while making a living takes place through the agency of the Holy One, blessed be he himself.’179 Work, especially as interpreted as the study of Torah, is seen as a blessing and a commandment. Even in the midst of potential loss and catastrophe, redemption and the means to seek God are always possible. Returning to Mir’s comment above, we can see how Islam and Judaism are in agreement with their interpretation of human nature in light of the story of Adam and Eve, noting that there was no need for God – in Christian language – ‘to send God’s Son to save the world’ as a sacrifice or substitution for the sins of humanity. Contrary to some Christians’ potential fears, such positions do not deny the sinfulness of human beings, as evinced in the evil inclination in Genesis that Greenberg refers to above. Interestingly, the acknowledgment of such a condition empowers some rabbis to argue with God, as Anson Laytner has detailed. In one account, Cain laments the imperfection of human nature as embodied in the evil inclination – and prays for leniency in judgement. Laytner writes: ‘The Rabbis recognized that even someone like Elijah made use of this argument when he said to God on Mount Carmel: “You have turned their hearts backwards”.’180 Instead of a focus on the sins of humanity and the language of original sin, there is a questioning of why human beings are so susceptible to sinning. While such ‘wrestling with God’ has been a marginal but still extant tradition in Judaism, and is almost non-existent in Islam and Christianity, even in light of Jesus’ cry on the cross (Mark 15:34, Matt. 27:46), one can see why traditional claims of the Christian Atonement would be dismissed or rejected by Jews and Muslims. A Christian who acknowledges these interpretations is challenged to respond gracefully and gratefully to the non-Christian Other, even while this Other questions and challenges (even if through silence) some fundamental Christian beliefs. The above, therefore, is a brief sketch of some factors one must bear in mind as a Christian and non-Christian meet and begin to discuss

179 Genesis Rabbah: The Judaic Commentary to the Book of Genesis. A New Translation, trans. Jacob Neusner (Atlanta: Scholar’s Press, 1985), 223. 180 Anson Laytner, Arguing with God: A Jewish Tradition (Northvale: Jason Aronson Inc., 1990), 62. The biblical quote is 1 Kgs 18:37. ADMIRAND Doctrinal Reinterpretation(s) 309 and reflect upon human nature, salvation, and perhaps, the Atonement. But how in fact would a change on the Christian side alter the conversation, and how is this relevant to interfaith dialogue in general? Lastly, how should such an awareness influence a Christian’s interaction with the non-Christian Other? 3) Saying the Unexpected: Christian Views of the Atonement. In Stricken by God? Nonviolent Identification and the Victory of Christ, a group of biblical scholars, pastors, and theologians from a range of Christian backgrounds (many employing or responding to René Girard’s mimetic theory) challenge the penal substitution or sacrificial model of the Atonement and seek alternative interpretations, many of which argue that a calling to practice non-violence resides at the foot of the cross. The most illuminating essay in this volume is Richard Rohr’s ‘The Franciscan Option’, which presents Duns Scotus’ view (contra Anselm) that the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus should be seen as an initiative to respond freely with love to the God of Love, Who is not to be confined by any human notion of honour, sacrifice, or substitution. The problem with the penal substitution model, as Rohr pithily writes, is that ‘in order to turn Jesus into a Hero we ended up making the Father into a Nero.’181 Trinitarian unity seems undermined as Jesus’ message of love, peace and non-violent resistance clashes with a God who demands and seems tragically trapped in sending his Son as a sacrifice to save humanity. As Rohr writes of Duns Scotus: ‘Duns Scotus saw these metaphors [of ransom, debt, redemption as ‘buying’, blood sacrifice, etc.] as limited because they made God’s redemptive action a rather anthropomorphic “reaction” to human sin instead of God’s perfect and utterly free initiative. This he could not tolerate.’182 Instead Jesus’ entire life, embodied in the love and healing of others, is reflected in Scotus’ doctrine of the ‘Primacy of Christ’. As Rohr writes: ‘Whatever happens to Jesus is what must and will happen to the soul: incarnation, an embedded life of ordinariness and hiddeness, initiation, trial, faith,

181 Richard Rohr, ‘The Franciscan Option’ in Stricken by God? Nonviolent Identification and the Victory of Christ, eds. Brad Jersak and Michael Hardin (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007), 208. 182 Ibid., 207. 310 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 death, surrender, resurrection, and return to God.’183 Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection thus serve as a template and exemplum for every individual to follow. The purpose of Jesus’ life is not to appease a wrathful God but testifies to how a loving and merciful God calls us to respond to the challenges and joys of life. Thus, the problem with the penal model, as Rohr argues, is that: ‘Sin becomes the very motive for redemption instead of love.’184 Such a preoccupation with sin and falling can obscure one’s faith and hope in God’s abundant love and forgiveness. As Ignaz Maybaum has insightfully reminded Christians, in the Akedah (or ‘Binding’) Isaac is spared and the ‘infinitely merciful’ God renounces human sacrifice.185 Unfortunately, however, Isaac became a type for Christ even though the former was not put to death but survives to experience the love of Rebekah and the trickery of his wily son Jacob, not breathing his last until the age of 180 when he is buried by his sons Jacob and Esau (Gen. 35:29). Sadly, it must be asked in retrospect and in parenthesis: If this Franciscan Option had become the most prominent interpretation of Jesus’ death, and some of the epistles of Paul and the writings of the early Church fathers like Augustine had echoed the eventual ‘dominant’ Jewish view of human nature and the meaning of the two creation stories, how different would Christian history have been, especially in its confrontation with the non-Christian Other? Would Christians have been as treacherous to the Jewish people, for example? 4) Prayer and the Face of the Other The questions above only hint at the gulf that separates Jesus from too many of his followers when coming face to face with the Other. As a work like Ben Kiernan’s Blood and Soil: A World History of Genocide and Extermination from Sparta to Darfur painfully explicates, whether one examines the conquest of the Americas, the treatment of indigenous people in Australia, the horrors of the Shoah or Rwandan genocide, the Other has been more often than not slaughtered, abused, silenced, and cast away by Christians.186 At best, he or she is

183 Ibid., 208. 184 Ibid., 209. 185 See the essays in Ignaz Maybaum: A Reader (Oxford: Berghahn, 2001). 186 In his justification of the slaughter of Native Americans in presentday Connecticut, John Underhill, who commanded an army sent out by the colony at Massachusetts Bay, wrestled with the reality of killing Native American ADMIRAND Doctrinal Reinterpretation(s) 311

‘merely’ ignored. Biblically, one may recall the persistence of the Syrophoenician woman187 in demanding to be acknowledged and for her request to be heard. Even if somewhat belatedly, Jesus did respond and her daughter was cured. Those of us who are Christian, however, too often seem to echo the disciples: ‘Send her away for she keeps coming after us.’ (Matt. 15:23) In our global and pluralist context, there is nowhere to send these others to, where we also do not tread. Walls, stringent laws, and geological hazards remain porous. After so many centuries of neglect and violence, and belated calls for forgiveness; after so many failures in responding with love and justice to the Other; it is time to respond. Our distorted faces also seek healing. As Levinas reminds us, we are all called and obligated to respond to the life and face of the Other. And it is through these encounters, moreover, that we often confront the developing, on-going views and formation of the Other, for whom, much of our theological language may remain inapplicable and inexplicable. However, despite the seeming failure of much of our theological language in these encounters, in our response resides our simultaneous movement ‘à-Dieu’ – unto God – and for the presence of God to be manifest. As Levinas states, ‘through my relation to the Other, I am in touch with God.’188 This manifestation of God, born through words and deeds, is also present through prayer. In his essay ‘Judaism and Kenosis’ Levinas notes that ‘prayer, called the “service of the heart” (again the expression is a literal one) is the edification of the worlds or the repairing of the ruins of creation. To pray signifies for a “myself,” seeing to the salvation of others instead of – or before – myself saving

women and children, but appealed to Scripture: ‘Sometimes the Scripture declareth women and children must perish with their parents…We had sufficient light from the Word of God for our proceedings’ (quoted in Ben Kiernan, Blood and Soil: A World History of Genocide and Extermination from Sparta to Darfur [New Haven: Yale University Press, 2007], 231). While there were killings on both sides, Kiernan highlights the genocidal intent of many of the European colonizers. 187 The unnamed woman is referred to as a Canaanite in Matthew’s gospel. 188 Emmanuel Levinas, ‘A Religion for Adults’ in Difficult Freedom: Essays on Judaism, trans. Seán Hand (Baltimore: The John Hopkins University Press, 1997), 17. 312 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 oneself.’189 As Christians we have often ruined more worlds than we have created. To be partners in the Jewish calling for Tikkun Olam (Repairing of the world) we need to return to that awkward silence and that moment of hesitation between Jesus and the Syrophoenician woman and acknowledge our fears in the mystery of unfamiliar encounters and our plea for forgiveness for failing so many in the past. Elsewhere I have argued for Christian theology to incorporate the testimonies of victims of mass atrocity into all theological formulations, in what I have referred to as a ‘prayerful commitment to remember the victims of atrocity.’190 Such interaction calls for hesitation and further reflection as one is forced to confront an Other whose words and life experiences often do not reflect theological teaching that promises a God of Love and a Spirit that will comfort and heal in times of affliction and atrocity. It forces upon us silence and the need to be active listeners. Just as non-Christians are called to reevaluate Christian doctrine in light of recent development and ongoing reassessments, Christians must be sure to enter dialogue with an Other committed to listening to and reflecting upon the Other’s on-going life stories and values. One should seek to transform a sense of anonymity into partnership and solidarity. 5) The Conundrum In the previous sections I sought to present how one illustrative case191 could give some direction, perhaps, for a crucial aspect of interfaith dialogue: adjusting to the changed views of our dialogue partner. While the example above calls on non-Christians to reassess the Christian view of the Atonement, I chose such an example because it is formative for Christian identity and stresses the need and reciprocal good faith of the non-Christian in an essay that highlights (rightfully so) the Christian failure to embrace the non-Christian. Herein lies the conundrum: to embrace and accept the theological views of the non-Christian is to jeopardize much of one’s Christian

189 Emmanuel Levinas, ‘Judaism and Kenosis’ in In the Time of Nations, trans. Michael B. Smith (London: Continuum, 2007), 115. 190 For my analysis of the need for a fractured faith, see my ‘Testimonies of Mass Atrocity and the Search for a Viable Theodicy’, Bulletin ET, 18 (2007): 88- 99. 191 Note that I acknowledge heartedly that each context will need to be nuanced and clearly distinguished. ADMIRAND Doctrinal Reinterpretation(s) 313 theology and identity; but to remain closed to such a path is to continue to betray and to delay the Reign of God among us.192 In accepting that our way may not be the only way, we seem to shed our importance and role as arbiters of Truth and as the embodiment of the best path for fulfilling God’s plan. However, in hastily and – to a non-Christian – unpersuasively asserting such a position over and above others – we Christians have too often failed to recognise when indeed we were blessed to be in the presence of God. Claims of uniqueness, superiority, and other notions involving superlatives are not in theory amiss or inappropriate. All of us have the right and the calling to avoid false, misleading, insufficient, or immoral paths. But the majority of Christians and Christian institutions remain too estranged and ignorant of the life and essence of other faiths to elect themselves as the supreme and final judge of the Other’s system of beliefs and religious practices. Judgement can come but the process of reflection and understanding remains in the infancy stage. As Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini has recently written in the context of Jewish-Christian dialogue, ‘we are most likely only at the beginning of a radical rethinking of the relations between Judaism and Christianity in line with the directions that have especially come from the Second Vatican Council’.193 One key test to evaluate such rethinking is how non-Christians react to Christian pronouncements that are alleged to bear upon them. If such pronouncements inspire dialogue and greater cooperation, we may speak of a movement à-Dieu. If sadness, fear, and hostility are the general response, we must humbly seek clarification and listen to such grievance. The distress articulated by many Jews (and Christians) over Pope Benedict’s decision to retain a prayer (with alterations) seeking

192 To give one of many examples, we may think of the on-going covenant between God and the Jewish people and how such an acknowledgment (by John Paul II, among others) impacts the salvific role for Christ among Christians (and especially, non-Christians). See, for example, Erich Zenger, ‘The Covenant that was Never Revoked: The Foundations of a Christian Theology of Judaism’ in The Catholic Church and the Jewish People, eds. Philip A. Cunningham, Norbert J. Hofman, and Joseph Sievers (New York: Fordham University Press, 2007), 92-112. 193 Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini, ‘Reflections Toward Jewish-Christian Dialogue’ in The Catholic Church and the Jewish People, 29. 314 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 the conversion of the Jews in the Tridentine Rite Good Friday Mass would be a recent example of the latter case. 6) Conclusion When Abelard wrote his Dialogue between a Philosopher, a Jew and a Christian, his audience expected his ‘characters’ to stick to the script, as it were. In hindsight, we can note where Abelard’s interpretations of Judaism were not accurate, but in his mind, the average Jewish person would speak the phrases he gave to them, like: ‘Christians, on the other hand, seem to have greater cause for persecution against us [than the pagans] because, as they say, we slew their Lord.’194 Today we live in a charged period of interfaith dialogue. It is ‘charged’ because we are in a world where cultures and religions are starting to share more of the same space every day. In such a world we must be prepared not only for the potential of change in – or toward – our own religious doctrines, but of change or development in or toward the religious doctrine as expressed by our interfaith dialogue partner. This means we cannot approach interreligious dialogue with a static, cemented conception of what the other definitively believes but must gradually and comprehensively flesh out these doctrines and interpretations. We should also note that some ‘change’ as in the Franciscan Option above, may not be new, just somewhat marginalised or forgotten within the tradition, and virtually unknown outside it. Moreover, such development, reinterpretation, or recovering of one’s doctrines and beliefs cannot be cursorily dismissed – no matter how radical or seemingly abrupt appears to be the break in tradition. I say this, of course, with one caveat: any doctrine that blatantly denies anyone’s human dignity is not up for negotiation; but views about God and the workings of one’s faith in ritual, Scripture, and doctrine are. Referring again to the tradition of questioning God in Judaism, I have in mind the author of one midrash: ‘Do you know who can protest against His decree and say to him “Why do you do such a thing?” He who observes the commandments.’ As Zachary Braiterman comments of the tradition, ‘only authorized persons are entitled to complain –

194 Peter Abelard, Ethical Writings; Ethics and Dialogue Between a Philosopher, a Jew, and a Christian, trans. Paul Vincent Spade (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, Inc., 1995), 67. ADMIRAND Doctrinal Reinterpretation(s) 315 and only for the right reason.’195 Substitute protest here for reinterpretation. In our context today, moreover, the need for authorisation is suspect because of the marginalisation and anonymity of so many. While such theological protest is best stated amidst a relationship with God, I take comfort in believing that whatever is said, God listens – and the cries of the anguished and the legitimate doubts of so many echo in biblical texts and resonate with the groans from the cross at Cavalry. In light of individuals burned at the stake, shunned, or silenced because of misunderstood theological formulations, I should also add that I do not worry much about the dignity of God. There have been many attempts at deicide and many Zarathustra-like cries of ‘God is dead’, and there will be many more because we are speaking of a Living God, and some among us always tragically want to slay what pulses with life. Note also that the term ‘Tradition’ has to be clarified when engaging in the reinterpretation of doctrine. One’s religious tradition, whether divinely ordained or not, is rarely immune from human, cultural, and time-bound bias. Every religious tradition contains doctrine, passages in one’s scriptures, or historical acts sanctioned by that tradition that today would be deemed immoral, irreligious, and tragically mistaken. One may think of the ban [herem] in the book of Samuel, for example, or the supercessionist notions that can be read into certain gospel passages and which were then more clearly promulgated by Christian theologians, but are rightfully denounced today.196 The Church’s spotty record on slavery may come to the minds of others. Some ties with tradition, therefore, must be condemned and extricated. In short, elements of one’s tradition, or the ways aspects of tradition are formulated, are simply wrong, and perhaps destructive. Using Tradition as a trump card against a new, marginalised, or radical interpretation of religious doctrine is best met with healthy

195 Zachary Braiterman, (God) After Auschwitz: Tradition and Change in Post- Holocaust Jewish Thought (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1998), 54. 196 See, for example, Didier Pollefeyt, ‘Christology After Auschwitz: A Catholic Perspective’ in Jesus Then & Now: Images of Jesus in History and Christology, eds. Marvin Meyer and Charles Hughes (Harrisburg: Trinity Press International, 2001), 229-248. 316 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 skepticism. Thus, John Henry Newman remains useful here, but in need of further development. In addition to a careful use of Tradition, any attempt at reformulating doctrines needs ample time and multiple reinterpretations to test and verify its orthodoxy, relevance, and moral and spiritual value. I have in mind, in particular, the recent censuring of Catholic thinkers like Jacques Dupuis, Roger Haight, Peter Phan, and Jon Sobrino in the areas of interreligious dialogue, religious pluralism, and Christology, areas that will only grow more intense (and bewildering) as genuine interfaith contact and immersion continues to grow among all of us. While criticism and challenges of any innovative, or seemingly ‘radical’ interpretation is part of this process, hastily censuring the doctrines and the people behind them is not the most effective means in our search for the truth and to live out the values of our beliefs. Fear of a radical relativism and the obscuring or denial of apparently irrefutable and inviolable doctrines remains legitimate. So too is it understandable for some institutions to ensure such still-developing interpretations are not promulgated as authoritative and normative, or addressed to those who would easily misconstrue these perhaps subtle and erudite formulations. Nevertheless, it is more spiritually and theologically rich to err on the side of ceding too much freedom than to fear that the truth will become sullied or obscure.197 It is understandable that we may yield to the temptation of rebuking and curtailing investigation into – and an openness toward – what for many believers and scholars would be tragic: the potential to recognize the failure or irrelevance of one’s faith or doctrinal beliefs. And yet, such a tragic possibility must remain open. For Christians, this possibility is particularly situated to the relevance and uniqueness of Christ for the non-Christian. I conclude by again asking how Rohr’s interpretation of Jesus’ life and death – which again is not new, but reflects the views of Duns Scotus and other Franciscans – can remain viable without altering

197 As Paul Valadier SJ writes: ‘It is too often forgotten that “dissent” is not necessarily the fruit of disobedience on the part of believers or theologians. In many cases it is the by-product of an authoritarianism that is incapable of offering a theological justification of its positions.’ See ‘Has the Concept of Sensus Fidelium Fallen into Desuetude?’ in Catholic Theological Ethics in the World Church, ed. James Keenan (New York: Continuum, 2007), 190. ADMIRAND Doctrinal Reinterpretation(s) 317 what for many are crucial aspects of the Christian faith. How would Greenberg respond to Duns Scotus? Does such an interpretation of Jesus’ death help to bring Jews and Christians together, even though Rohr is still clear on the salvific nature of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection? In a Christian’s encounter with the non-Christian Other, how does one maintain one’s particular religious identity and still view the Other as equally graced and loved by God – though one’s religious beliefs seem irrelevant or mistaken to that Other? While the argument of the uniqueness of Jesus as a saviour (especially as it is conveyed in the expression ‘Dominus Jesus’198) would still trouble Hindus like Ram-Prasad, Rohr’s interpretation moves the discussion away from the sense of fallen humanity and an angry, record-keeping God, and instead better reflects Jesus as a way and path towards ultimate meaning, healing, life-giving, harmony, and salvation. Thus, the dialogue, like the search for doctrinal development, needs to continue. It calls all of us to be more attentive listeners as we may not hear what we expect to – both within ourselves and in the voice of the Other. In our response rests the hope of overcoming the distortions and divisions that we have wreaked upon the faces of the Other, and consequently, upon our own faces and souls.

198 In the ‘Declaration Dominus Iesus: On the Unicity and Salvific Universality of Jesus Christ and the Church’, we read, for example, ‘Only the revelation of Jesus Christ, therefore, “introduces into our history a universal and ultimate truth which stirs the human mind to ceaseless effort”.’ See www.vatican.va/roman_curia/congregations/cfaith/documents/rc_con_cfaith _doc_20000806_dominus-iesus_en.html. Accessed on 3 November 2008. 318

CATHOLIC AND MENNONITE: A JOURNEY OF HEALING

Gerald W. Schlabach∗

Drawing on his experience as co-founder and director of Bridgefolk, a grassroots organization for unity and dialogue between Mennonites and Roman Catholics, as well as his own personal and theological journey becoming a ‘Mennonite Catholic’, the author argues that people who bridge Christian traditions ought not to be seen as distractions in an otherwise clean bilateral process of ecumenical dialogue. Exploring the metaphor of scar tissue, he insists that in the incarnational faith of Christianity, no healing of memories can happen without someone there to enflesh the rejoining of separated parts in the body of Christ.

English teachers and editors tell us not to mix metaphors. Well, it's a good thing Jesus got to us before they did. To project the Kingdom of God or to explain God's love for the lost, Jesus unabashedly gave us multiple metaphors and parables. A mustard seed, yeast, a treasure hidden in a field. A lost coin, a lost sheep, a prodigal son. For the mystery of God's work, we seem positively to require mixed metaphors. Our job is to collate them and gain a fuller picture by connecting their dots. Part three of Called Together to be Peacemakers199 offers us, with its very title, one metaphor for our most basic of ecumenical tasks, ‘the healing of memories’. ‘Bridgefolk’, the name of the grassroots organization for dialogue and unity between Mennonites and Roman Catholics, offers another image, the bridging of peoples. I would like to collate these two images by exploring yet another image — scars,

∗ Gerald W. Schlabach is Associate Professor of Theology and Director of Justice and Peace Studies at the University of St. Thomas in Minnesota. He holds a Ph.D. in Theology and Ethics from the University of Notre Dame and an MA in Theological Studies from the Associated Mennonite Biblical Seminary. 199 Report of the International Dialogue between the Catholic Church and Mennonite World Conference, 1998 – 2003. See SCHLABACH Catholic and Mennonite: A Journey of Healing 319 and the function they play in the healing of actual bodies, wherever the painful separation of flesh has occurred. In a faith so incarnational as Christianity, the healing of memories in the broken body of Christ will remain merely gnostic if it is not enfleshed through the bridging of folk.200 And when severed flesh comes together, scars are the bridge, while scar formation is a sign of returning health. Yet even in the healthiest of recovering bodies, scars remain. And scars remind. Even when memories heal, in other words, the body writes new memories onto its very flesh. Often such scars continue to itch. For some, this can be a calling, to incarnate the healing of memories, to be the scars that close gaping wounds in the body of Christ, and frankly to itch. Bridge people, I argue, ought neither to be nor be seen as distractions in an otherwise clean bilateral process of ecumenical dialogue. Nor should their ‘double belonging’ be taken merely as the product of post-modern messiness. To be sure, something can be unsettling about both still-forming scars and folks who remain ‘on a journey’. But in the incarnational faith we call Christianity, no healing of memories will be complete — or really even begin — without someone there to enflesh the rejoining of separated parts. Bridging Almost every year, someone participating in a Bridgefolk conference either plays with the image of a bridge or asks whether the metaphor really works. Bridgefolk began in the late 1990s as Ivan Kauffman and I began to wonder if we were in the presence of a nascent, still- inchoate, movement. Through friendship and word of mouth we were learning of a striking number of Mennonites drawn to Catholic liturgical or contemplative traditions, and of Catholics drawn to Mennonite traditions of service and peacemaking. Hoping to figure out what was going on, we soon invited Marlene Kropf and Weldon Nisly to join us in planning an unadvertised retreat bringing together twenty-five Catholics and Mennonites to tell their stories, pray and

200 In speaking of ‘the bridging of folk’ or ‘bridge people,’ I am referring not just to participants in the Bridgefolk movement or organization, but to others like them as well, who seek to bridge multiple traditions. 320 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 discern. More as an act of generic description than one of poetry or theology, we simply called it a bridging retreat. So what sort of bridge is this? someone wonders. Yes, a few of the folk in Bridgefolk have ‘crossed-over,’ changing their primary ecclesial identity from one church to the other. Yet those of us who have done so are not the sort of ‘converts’ who are burning their bridges by renouncing the values or legitimacy of the church communities that formed them. In any case, far more often, ours is a bridge that facilitates hospitality and exchange, allowing once-estranged Christians in these two traditions to meet as friends, find inspiration in one another’s charisms, learn from one another’s practices, but then return home, back across the bridge, enriched. If the first bridging metaphor—crossing over—is too triumphalistic, however, the second—amiable exchange—may be too benign. For it fails to account for either the pain or the joy that many of the folk in Bridgefolk have experienced. On the one hand, some have felt at times like homeless refugees no longer fully at home in either tradition, grateful to find shelter under the Bridgefolk bridge, yet painfully aware that such a home can only be makeshift and provisional at best. On the other hand, some of us are interchurch couples or individuals with dual membership, trying to find creative, comfortable ways actually to live on the bridge. Bridges aren't supposed to become the site for permanent homes, right? Except that in rare cases they do—as with the charming Ponte Vecchio in Florence. Still, the last thing we in Bridgefolk leadership want to imply is that ours is an actual church home. A home away from home—maybe. An ecclesial movement, as Rome approvingly labels certain kinds of groups—gladly. But not a church. And only even a bridge between our churches so long as few better options exist for being simultaneously Mennonite and Catholic. Thus the common prayer that has been our one shared ‘rule of life’ since 2001 actually does not speak at all of a bridge between Catholics and Mennonites. Rather it speaks of a bridge to somewhere that neither Christian community is currently fully at —a bridge to God's ‘coming Kingdom,’ a bridge ‘to that future of unity and peace which You ever yearn to give to your Church, yet ever give in earnest through Your Church as You set a table before us....’ Gratefully we later learned that both Cardinal Walter Kasper, head of the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity, and then- Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, now Pope Benedict, have named exactly SCHLABACH Catholic and Mennonite: A Journey of Healing 321 this to be the proper goal of ecumenism—not that long-separated Christians move closer to one another but that together we grow closer to Christ.201 What exactly the far end of that bridge will look like thus remains to be discovered. Healing I do not know whether even my closest friends or colleagues have noticed. But every once in a while, in moments of distraction, I reach across my chest and scratch an itch. Nine years ago, I had surgery to remove a lymph node that had become impacted with the infection from cat scratch disease. I will spare you the gorier details, but this much seems necessary: the wound that surgery leaves in a case like this cannot simply be closed and sutured. It must remain open to be regularly cleaned and dressed until it heals and closes from the inside, lest a new and far more systemic infection occur. Healing cannot be rushed. The wound requires patient, loving attention, in my case at the hands of my long-suffering wife. And then, as with any scar tissue, an itch may persist, even after healing is complete, as I can attest. That scars abide in the body of Christ, even where healing occurs, should not surprise us. Christianity is a faith of realistic hope not cheery optimism. At its very center, after all, is a gruesome cross that we not only must behold, but recognize as our own doing. It is precisely because we can look into the face of suffering and shame that we find the courage to believe, in the words of Julian of Norwich, that ‘all will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of things will be well.’ After all, even the resurrected body of Jesus continues to bear the visible wounds of suffering (John 20: 27). Scars function in at least three ways. I have already mentioned the first: scars are the place where the body’s separated flesh comes together. In ways small yet nonetheless decisive for the health of the whole, they bridge. Second, scars are places that mark the eschatological ‘already’ and ‘not yet’ of our own resurrected bodies and—more to the point—of the perfectly healed, reunited, resurrected body of Christ. If even in resurrection, scars may still be visible, then those scars that continue to ache in the still-healing body of Christ are

201 Walter Cardinal Kasper, ‘Current Problems in Ecumenical Theology’, Reflections 6 (Spring 2003): 64–65; Joseph Ratzinger, Church, Ecumenism, and Politics: New Essays in Ecclesiology (New York: Crossroad, 1988), 87. 322 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 a sure reminder of the Church's ‘not yet’. Yet even so, even now, we may celebrate an ‘already’. The grace that is the wonder of the human body is capable of amazing healing, even in the meantime. Third and finally, scars are a place that functions to set an agenda for the body. Scars in the process of healing marshal energy and resources from throughout the body at those locales whose recovery is critical for the well-being of the whole. And even after healing is complete, scars want to be scratched. They incite other parts of the body to pay attention. They itch. So that even as the body of Christ heals its memories, the scars that remain also continue to provoke memory, itching and calling for further action. To illustrate the healing-yet-still-itching role of Catholic and Anabaptist-Mennonite bridge people in the body of Christ, I would like to share an imagined conversation. Let me defer for now the question of whether and where such a conversation might actually take place. To make the conversation easy to follow, I will call the Mennonite Anna B. and the Catholic Cathy. Anna is a deacon in her local congregation and is pursuing a master's degree in spiritual direction. Cathy works full time as social justice coordinator in her local parish. They have been friends for a number of years, and when Called Together to be Peacemakers came out they initiated a study of the document, bringing together members of both communities. The study is just about to wrap up and they are meeting at a coffee shop to debrief and discuss what to do next. * * * ‘Hey, I thought our last session on the healing of memories went well,’ says Anna as they sit down at a corner table. ‘What a relief!’ ‘That we're done?’ asks Cathy with surprise. ‘I'm going to miss meet—’ ‘No, not that. What a relief that we really are both Christians! The document says so! Mennonites and Catholics are allowed to see one another as brothers and sisters in Christ.’ [¶ 210] Catching on, Cathy chuckles. ‘Of course you and I knew that already. It's a shame that it took our high-level delegations five years to reach the same conclusion!’ ‘Or five hundred years,’ Anna interrupts. ‘Yeah, I know,’ agrees Cathy. ‘I'm just sort of teasing them in absentia. They did have a lot of issues to work through. Still do, I SCHLABACH Catholic and Mennonite: A Journey of Healing 323 guess. But at least we're moving beyond mutual condemnation, as Cardinal Kasper put it. [¶ 202] They really came a long way in facing “those difficult events of the past.” I mean, most of us Catholics don't even know that we used to persecute groups like the Mennonites. I didn't, and I work on human rights issues! I can really understand what they mean by “the healing of memories.”’ ‘Or “purification of memories”,' suggests Anna. ‘Whatever. The document uses the terms interchangeably, doesn't it?’ ‘No, not whatever,’ Anna insists. ‘I've been thinking some more about this since our last meeting. I don't think they're quite the same. It's one thing to clear up a misunderstanding. That's purification. It's like cleaning a wound. But that doesn't mean the wound is healed yet. Especially’—Anna's voice grows quieter—‘when the wound gets reopened every once in a while.’ Cathy is a bit taken aback: ‘What do you mean?’ ‘Well, it's hard enough to face difficult events of the past, but what about events of the present?’ ‘I'm not sure I follow you,’ says Cathy, still puzzled. ‘Persecution is long past. Vatican II committed Catholics to the principle of religious liberty. We discussed all this, you know. And the Catholic Church's growing commitment to peace and nonviolence—I wish it were happening faster, but it is happening!’ ‘Not at the table,’ says Anna, with more resignation than bitterness. ‘Suddenly at the last minute I'm not seen as a sister in Christ after all. Or if I am, I'm second class.’ ‘Oh, I'm sorry. That. Of course,’ says Cathy. ‘You know how torn I feel about that. You're welcome to participate in the Eucharist as far as I'm concerned. But, well, I'm just not the only one concerned. You know me. I get as frustrated as anyone that change takes so long in the Roman church. But that's part of what it means to be a Catholic — to move together as a worldwide body. So the Eucharist isn't only about you, me, and Jesus. It's also our fullest expression of visible church unity, so where unity is incomplete, well, I suppose it's better to be honest. I mean.... Geez, I can't believe I'm defending the rules! Maybe it feels different to me because we Catholics are so good at finding exceptions to rules. I'm sorry if I was insensitive.’ ‘It's okay,’ Anna assures her friend. ‘On one level, I get it too. You know how much I've come to love the liturgy. When I attend other 324 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Protestant services now and they have open communion, sometimes it feels a little too cheap and nonchalant. Even at my own Mennonite congregation, we've finally agreed to celebrate the Lord's Supper once a month, but one time we do it one way, then next time another way. So I'm torn too. If it weren't for the thorn of your all-male priesthood, I could almost start to appreciate your rules!’ ‘Their all-male priesthood,’ Cathy interjects, and they both laugh. ‘So as I was saying, it's okay. I get it. I guess.’ ‘Well, that wasn't very convincing,’ Cathy notes. Anna pauses, trying to decide whether it is worth the risk of going on. ‘I get it—until we get to that one line: “Happy are those who are called to this supper.” You welcome me as a friend and sister. The liturgy, it ... I guess I would say it enfolds me. But then at the last minute, am I called to this supper or not? Am I a sister in Christ or not? All I know is that I’m not quite “happy” at this supper. In the very moment of welcome I'm turned away because I'm a second-class Christian. It isn’t even enough that I sincerely pray the next line: “I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed.” Jesus can say the healing word but I'm not worthy just because I'm not a Catholic?’ ‘Well,’ says Cathy, ‘here's where I'm the one who sort of gets it and sort of doesn't.’ She hesitates, then stammers: ‘You could... I mean... Look, we've had this study group for nine months without anyone trying to convert anyone else, and I’m not starting now. But if the Eucharist is coming to mean so much to you, you could become Catholic. I'm not saying you should, y’know. It's just that, well, I don't think it's quite fair to say that the church is turning you away.’ ‘Oh come on, you know why I can't do that,’ says Anna. ‘You've told me your own frustrations as a woman working within the structures of the church. Do you really think you'd join if you weren't a “cradle Catholic?” You say the church is moving toward a stronger commitment to peace and nonviolence, but only slowly. Do you really expect it to give up its just war teaching—ever? Don't worry that you've stepped over the line; I appreciate your honesty. But I have to be honest too: I just don't know how I could be part of a church like that. Still too Constantinian. Still way too patriarchal ... ‘ ‘... Still the whore of Babylon?’ Cathy interrupts. ‘No, I didn't say that!’ SCHLABACH Catholic and Mennonite: A Journey of Healing 325

‘But you did say that the Roman Catholic Church still hasn’t changed enough, is still not good enough. Not worthy. Isn't that just a politer way of saying what Protestants have been saying for almost 500 years?’ Both friends are silent for a minute. At last Anna finds a way to connect her thoughts and feelings with those of her friend: ‘Well, it's tricky, this business of worthiness and recognition. I guess both our churches find ways to turn each other away at the last minute.’ ‘'But only say the word...’ ‘...and I shall be healed.’ ‘At least we have this table.’ ‘Yeah—want some more coffee? I don't think our work is over yet!’ * * * So could some version of this conversation actually take place? In the hall outside this meeting? In the cafeteria at our Bridgefolk gatherings? On the tearful late-night bed of a Mennonite-Catholic marriage? No and yes. I have been in all of these places, marveling both at growing trust among friends and sudden breakthroughs of insightful candour. But I have yet to hear a conversation quite this blunt. Except for one place—my own Mennonite Catholic head. There, I hear it often. And though I can't know for sure, I suspect that versions of this conversation replay regularly in the minds and hearts of others who have found some sort of way to be simultaneously Mennonite and Catholic. The conversations are not just intellectual matters either— much less gnostic—for they take on their poignancy and depth precisely because we are keeping our bodies planted in both communities, continuing to serve and be present rather than leaving one for the other. The pain of estrangement we once felt may have abated. But an itch lingers on. If we are scar tissue in the body of Christ, that itch keeps us longing and working for less painful, ever healthier ways to bring together divided flesh in the body of Christ. Dialogue So I am arguing that bridge people play a critical role in the ecumenical healing of divisions. I am seeking to name spaces within the ecumenical movement where grassroots dialogue can and does play a role. I will close by envisioning some possible next ways in which Mennonites and Catholics acting together can contribute to 326 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Christian unity in fresh and creative ways. These arguments inevitably imply that ecumenical dialogue and progress will suffer from certain limitations if they only proceed through high-level encounters, and I mean to explicate some of these limitations shortly. But let me be clear: none of this aims to detract in any way from the immense gratitude that grassroots bridge people owe to the classical ecumenical movement functioning on more official levels. A first affirmation: Historically, the impulse for ecumenical endeavours has sprung from what matters most—missio Dei, God's own outreach to the needy world that God loves, and the call of God's Church to participate in this mission. As it took shape among Protestants in the early twentieth century, the classical ecumenical movement was virtually indistinguishable from the missionary movement then in its heyday. The disunity of churches obstructed a clear presentation of the gospel, after all, and young churches that did form in new regions of the world often found North Atlantic denominational structures a confusing puzzle at best. Later, when the Catholic Church made its decisive commitment to ecumenical dialogue at the Second Vatican Council, that context was no mere coincidence. The larger purpose of the council was to reinvigorate the church so that it might better communicate the gospel in the modern world.202 As he opened the council Pope John XXIII expressed his hope that it was ‘bringing together the Church's best energies’ to prepare the church to proclaim ‘more favourably the good tidings of salvation.’203 For their part, Mennonites have discovered an ecumenical mandate precisely as they have engaged in mission and service around the world. Integral to the corporate culture of the relief, development, and peacebuilding organization Mennonite Central Committee, for example, is a commitment to ‘work with the church’ whenever possible in any given region or locale. But since this can hardly involve Mennonite partners alone (given the relatively small size of the worldwide Mennonite communion) MCC has in practice inculcated a

202 Giuseppe Alberigo, ed., History of Vatican II, 5 volumes, English version edited by Joseph Komonchak (Maryknoll, NY; Leuven, Belgium: Orbis Books; Peeters, 1996), I:2–3. 203. Pope John XXIII, Gaudet mater ecclesia, Opening speech to the Second Vatican Council (1962). SCHLABACH Catholic and Mennonite: A Journey of Healing 327 strikingly catholic ecclesiology—far more than Anabaptist-Mennonite theology has quite known how to name. A second affirmation unfolds to become multiple affirmations: We can be grateful for a diversity of charisms among multiple ecumenical dialogues and do not need to celebrate one at the expense of others. Naturally, each dialogue takes on the character and primary concerns of its respective dialogue partners. The international dialogue between Mennonites and Catholics took up a number of issues but two or three were particularly urgent for the relationship between these two communities—the memory of sixteenth-century persecution, the contemporary call to peacemaking, and (extending from both) the relation of church and state, both historically and today. It is not that other matters are unimportant.204 Yet obviously we cannot take on every issue at once. That every dialogue has its own charism is thus a great gift. Mennonites and Catholics in dialogue together are freer to drill down into their own matters of urgency knowing that others with the concern and competence to focus on different issues are doing so.205 So in the diversity of ecumenical charisms, we owe great debts to one another; each frees others to pursue their respective callings.

204 The Mennonite-Catholic dialogue also gave some attention to ecclesiology and sacraments or ordinances, though in my judgment with less creativity. And there are certainly Mennonites for whom the papacy or Mariology is an obstacle, or who assume that Catholics believe in justification through works—just as there are Catholics who will wonder how far Mennonite/Catholic dialogue can proceed until Mennonites recognize the charism of office as realized through the sacrament of holy orders. 205 Pentecostals and Baptists have discussed with Catholics the role of Mary in God's economy of salvation. Anglicans and Eastern Orthodox know they can never recover formal unity with the Roman church until they come to terms on the Petrine ministry of the bishop of Rome. The Faith and Order process mainly among Protestant churches has taken on a host of issues through the years but the title of a 1982 watershed document names the most important— ‘Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry’ (World Council of Churches, Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry, adopted by Faith and Order at its plenary commission meeting in Lima, Peru in 1982, Faith and Order Paper, no. 111 [Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1982]). And of course we can all be grateful for the breakthrough achieved in 1999 with the concord between Lutherans and Catholics concerning justification by grace through faith. The World Methodist Conference has incidentally illustrated my point here by officially signing on to the Lutheran-Catholic concord. 328 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

While gratefully acknowledging the legacy of classical ecumenism, however, we must honestly name certain limitations. The ‘we’ here refers especially to those who come from, or are sensitive to, the so- called Free Church tradition.206 As the late John Howard Yoder persistently argued throughout his career, however generous particular ecumenists have hoped to be, the very structure of ecumenical dialogue has too often served to marginalize the free churches.207 Arguably, any assumption that high-level negotiators representing their churches might deliver blocks of Christians into new configurations is covertly Constantinian at worst or question- begging at best.208 If free churches instead understand church authority to proceed ‘from below’—or better, from Christ ‘above’ who distributes a wide diversity gifts among all believers209—then the very shape of the ecumenical table dare not preclude their full participation. Even when heirs to the Radical Reformation have found a place at the ecumenical table, Yoder also reminded us, the classical agenda encoded in the formula of ‘Faith and Order,’ has tended to assume that matters of doctrine and church structure were ‘confessional issues’ and their resolution what is most essential for greater church

206 But note also the perspective of Br. Roger of the Taizé community in France: ‘Over the years, the ecumenical vocation has fostered an invaluable exchange of views. This dialogue constitutes the first-fruits of reconciliation. But when the ecumenical vocation is not made concrete through a communion, it leads nowhere.’ Glimmers of Happiness (Chicago: GIA Publications, 2007), 90. 207 See for example John Howard Yoder, ‘On Christian Unity: The Way from Below,’ Pro Ecclesia 9, no. 2 (Spring 2000): 165–83. 208 Perhaps the word ‘Constantinian’ is too loaded, since some will reply that the authority of church officials to negotiate on behalf of their communities owes nothing to political authorities (now, anyway) and everything to the apostolic mandate that has constituted an authoritative magisterium in Christ's Church. But such a reply only underscores Yoder's point: A key ecclesiological point is being begged. That is, the very position that needs proving is serving as the premise of the argument. 209 I am alluding here to Yoder’s interpretation of Eph. 4: 7-13, which provided the overarching image and title for Yoder’s argument that all Christians share in the church’s mission, John Howard Yoder, The Fullness of Christ: Paul’s Revolutionary Vision of Universal Ministry (Elgin, Ill.: Brethren Press, 1987). SCHLABACH Catholic and Mennonite: A Journey of Healing 329 unity, but that ethics and discipleship are secondary.210 Thankfully, ecumenists are increasingly recognizing that the heirs of the Radical Reformation have a rightful claim to the argument that these too are ‘confessional’ matters. If Yoder were alive, however, he would still be pressing the question of whether their full recognition does not require a more radically thoroughgoing review of the Faith and Order agenda itself—a reshaping of the table, as it were. The experience of Bridgefolk suggests at least two other limitations to classical ecumenism. First, it has not accounted very well for postmodern fluidity of identity, and is only beginning to do so now. The standard agenda of ecumenical dialogue has taken up matters of doctrine and polity with a certain assumption that long-standing historical positions continue to have purchase in the respective Christian communities. Far be it from me as a professional theologian to suggest otherwise; one of our perennial tasks as theology professors is to convince undergraduates that ideas of centuries past continue to shape our lives. But let's be honest: This very pedagogical task is more urgent than ever precisely because students and parishioners alike feel unprecedented freedom to mix and match, try on a succession of identities, and forge patterns of double belonging. The obvious danger here is an individualistic ‘cafeteria Christianity.’ Yet leading ecumenists themselves imply gratitude for the larger possibilities that the post-modern condition opens up, whenever they recognize the power of ‘spiritual ecumenism’—the way that formally divided Christians overcome old suspicions and develop mutual appreciation whenever they work together for the common good, pray common

210. Thus, even those of us who fully accept the Trinitarian structure of Nicaea and Chalcedon as an irreplaceable framework for Christian unity have reason to wonder: Why have Johannine formulae such as ‘I and my Father are one’ or ‘whoever sees me sees the one who sent me’ underwritten the metaphysics of the creeds but failed to underscore, historically, a nonviolent ethic of discipleship? After all, when Jesus himself spoke most explicitly of his Father's character, pointing out that God makes rain to fall on just and unjust alike, this served to underscore that we too must love our enemies and respond to their aggression with creative nonviolence. So too, one would think that the more Christians agree on the saving power of Jesus' cross and resurrection, the more they would see that Christ-like suffering service on behalf of others is the true power that truly secures our lives even now in history, not domineering violence. 330 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 prayers, sing together, and so on. Though ecumenists may celebrate spiritual ecumenism more than they bemoan cafeteria Christianity, what all of us have trouble accounting for is how we can have one without the other. The fluidity of post-modern identity seems both to lubricate ecumenical conversation and to allow people to slide over hard questions that will haunt us later if we hope to move any closer to full communion. Which brings me to a final limitation. If our only hope and model of ecumenical progress is a painstakingly negotiated solution to every church-dividing issue between every estranged Christian community, then the ecumenical horizon will ever recede. Patience is a key Christian virtue, of course, and eschatological tension is good theology. But a Christian has only one lifetime to live out his or her earthly vocation and live into the path of discipleship Christ has placed before us. Perhaps some of us have succumbed to the vice of impatience and are trying to hurry the eschaton. But when we find that full participation in the sacraments and ample communion with Christians through the ages and around the globe is necessary to sustain lives of nonviolent discipleship—in other words and for example, when we find our Christian identities already taking on both a Catholic and a Mennonite shape—then forgive us our itches, but we wonder how long we must wait for a not yet that seems more tragically unnecessary than properly eschatological. Our plea is not for premature solutions to the serious issues that Christians must face after centuries of division and mistrust. Our plea is to concentrate on moving together toward Christ rather than negotiating our way toward each other. Concretely our plea is for fresh models aiming not so much to resolve historic differences as to transcend them.211

211 Again, one may cite Br. Roger of Taizé: ‘A significant step will have been accomplished to the extent that a life of communion, already a reality in certain places throughout the world, is explicitly taken into account. It will require courage to recognize this and draw the necessary conclusions. Written documents will come later. Does not putting the accent on written documents cause us in the end to lose sight of the Gospel’s call to be reconciled without delay?’ Glimmers of Happiness, 91. SCHLABACH Catholic and Mennonite: A Journey of Healing 331

Vision A reshaped table, hosting a search for fresh models, must somehow make a place for the lessons of grassroots ecumenical dialogue and the voice of bridge people who may not represent one church or another officially, but who bear in their own bodies the healing scars of their struggles for reconciliation. As my brief review of Yoder has already implied, learning to accommodate messy grassroots modes of discernment and decisionmaking will be critical for any dialogue that includes the Free Church tradition, anyway. One can understand the puzzle someone like Cardinal Kasper faces when he surveys the exponential expansion of ‘evangelical, charismatic and above all Pentecostal communities,’ when he recognizes that the horizon of church unity will only recede further if older churches cannot find ways to converse with these new ones, but when he also finds it nearly impossible to identify representatives of these communities who hold corresponding decision-making positions that allow them to serve as conversation partners.212 Yet the puzzle underscores the need. And fortunately, learning to converse with a nonhierarchical world communion such as the Mennonites offers practice for talking with other groups, whose dynamics are more akin to the Radical Reformation than the magisterial Reformation. What may not be so obvious is that it is eminently appropriate for a group like Bridgefolk to emerge in the context of ecumenical conversation involving Mennonites. Mennonite ecclesiology expects discernment to take place throughout the gathered body according to the model of 1 Corinthians 14, whereby even the words of the most gifted leader must be tested by the local assembly. When Catholics are attracted to Mennonites, one of the draws is sometimes this participatory pattern of church life. Thus, if Bridgefolk did not exist, it would probably have to be invented. Here though we must cross-reference another major challenge that Cardinal Kasper has identified in the current ecumenical landscape. Kasper notes that the ecumenical scene is simultaneously fragmenting and reconnecting through new kinds of ecclesial networks and unpredictable new forms. Uncertain whether it is proper for the

212 Walter Kasper, Cardinal, ‘The Current Ecumenical Transition,’ Origins 36, no. 26 (7 December 2006): 411–13. 332 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 pontifical council he heads to enter into dialogue with these energetic yet unofficial groups, Kasper nonetheless voices gratitude for their commitment and seems intrigued that they come knocking.213 The challenge Kasper is identifying as he paints this picture is one that others associate with postmodernity. It is the phenomenon that paradoxically couples greater awareness of the role of traditions and community identity with greater fluidity of identities. The postmodern condition brings many dangers, of course. Elsewhere I have argued that too often it is little more than a pose for a kind of hypermodernity;214 identities found and shaped in this way are too easily gnostic, individualistic, and unaccountable to any real and stable community. And yet we must have the courage to recognize opportunity here too. Postmodernity has loosened rigid identity configurations that long kept peoples, cultures, and churches distrustful, estranged, and unable to exchange gifts. Postmodernity has thus allowed for fresh, creative, once-unthinkable conversations. It is reshaping our identities whether we welcome its changes or not. For those who welcome its opportunities self-critically, it makes once unthinkable identity configurations possible. Ivan Kauffman frees us from obsessing over whether postmodernity is simply producing ‘cafeteria Christians’ when he proposes that the postmodern age is actually misnamed. At least for Christians, our age is in fact the ‘ecumenical age,’ says Kauffman. For the realization is dawning: Everyone needs the gifts that everyone else has to offer. Still, how to have the benefits of our postmodern (a.k.a. ecumenical) age while minimizing its dangers? My appeal is to church officials and in its essence it is really quite simple: Give bridge people better ways to be accountable; help them make ‘double belonging’ into something more than their own improvised idiosyncrasies.

213 Kasper, ‘The Current Ecumenical Transition,’ 412–13. 214 Gerald W. Schlabach, ‘The Vow of Stability: A Premodern Way Through a Hypermodern World,’ in Anabaptists & Postmodernity, eds Susan Biesecker- Mast and Gerald Biesecker-Mast, foreword by J. Denny Weaver, The C. Henry Smith Series, vol. 1 (Telford Pa.: Pandora Books U.S., 2000), 301–24; Gerald W. Schlabach, ‘Stability Amid Mobility: The Oblate’s Challenge and Witness,’ American Benedictine Review 52, no. 1 (March 2001): 3–23. SCHLABACH Catholic and Mennonite: A Journey of Healing 333

Though no fully canonical model yet exists for double belonging to both the Roman Catholic Church and some other Christian communion, models and categories do already exist. Some are the precedents of centuries, in fact, while others have only recently emerged. Already before anyone had begun to imagine such a thing as a ‘Catholic Mennonite’ or ‘Mennonite Catholic’ identity certain hybrid categories existed in both traditions—ecclesial models and patterns that defy easy pigeonholing according to a Troeltschian typology of ‘church’ and ‘sect,’ or that otherwise allowed for ‘double belonging’ long before anyone had coined the term. ♦ On the one hand, monasteries and religious orders had long embodied dynamics within the big tent of Catholic Christendom that contemporary ‘believers churches’ see as essential for authentic Christianity—mature adult commitment, thoroughgoing discipleship, both taking primary shape in accountably local Christian communities. ♦ On the other hand, when Radical Reformation communities emerged, critics from the magisterial Reformation intriguingly wrote them off as married monastics. Later historians have seconded the observation. Rather than resist the designation, some of us now embrace it as a reminder of Anabaptism's Catholic roots. ♦ For centuries, recognition of alternative rites has been one way for the Roman church to maintain or restore communion with local churches whose histories have followed a divergent trajectory, resulting in non-Roman liturgies and polities that can nonetheless claim ancient precedent. ♦ Another kind of hybrid polity began to emerge in Latin America already prior to Vatican II—base ecclesial communities drawing together small groups led by lay leaders the church itself had trained. Though base communities have sometimes suffered from political struggle in both society and the church, leaving them with a tarnished reputation among conservative prelates, we do well to recall that base communities began as the bishops' own solution to some of their pastoral challenges. 334 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

♦ Meanwhile and with little controversy, Mennonites in North America have sometimes resolved pastoral problems resulting from their own history of division by allowing congregations to affiliate with more than one denomination. In a few cases, the second (or third!) affiliation has not even been Mennonite. ♦ And overseas, Mennonite mission agencies have won recognition as leaders in their willingness to work with African independent churches and others without any expectation of denominational affiliation. Add to this the many examples of MCC collaboration with Catholic bodies in Latin America, the Philippines, etc., and the result is a striking range of creative affiliations across the continuum running from ‘low’ to ‘high church.’ Still other models have been emerging in ways that seem to respond even more obviously to postmodern pastoral needs and dynamics. Not surprisingly, all of them have figured into the journeys of at least a few of the folk in Bridgefolk: ♦ One way that some Mennonites (and many other non-Catholics, of course) have found to connect with Catholic traditions has been as Benedictine oblates and through similar ‘third order’ affiliations. ♦ Though not well known in North America, the Vatican has been looking to ‘ecclesial movements’ to play a leading role in the revitalization of Christianity especially in Europe. The theological tendencies of ecclesial movements cover a broad range of Catholicism, from traditionalist Opus Dei, to ecumenically generous Focolare, to socially activist Sant'Egidio. The polity of ecclesial movements is hybrid not only because they are emphatically lay-led, but in some cases because they admit non-Catholics into their membership. ♦ Although formal recognition of non-Roman rites is reserved for traditions with a claim to ancient precedent and apostolic continuity, a case can be made that at least one community and its liturgy has received informal or de facto recognition as a rite—the Taizé community centered in France. Founded by French Protestants soon after World War II in order to promote and embody Christian unity, Taizé has developed its own interchurch liturgy, and enjoyed warm relations with the SCHLABACH Catholic and Mennonite: A Journey of Healing 335

Vatican. At the funeral of Pope John Paul II, officiating Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger—soon to be Pope Benedict XVI—offered Taizé's aging leader Brother Roger the Eucharist while the world's cameras rolled. At Brother Roger's own funeral a few months later, Cardinal Kasper officiated. In a church that is highly attuned to ritual meaning, and that prefers to let policy and doctrinal development settle through received practice before ratifying them through canonical pronouncement, surely these were quite deliberate signals. ♦ Such historic developments still can take decades to play out, so individuals who seek to identify with one tradition without renouncing their formative tradition must continue to improvise. A few have in fact made formal dual affiliations. In my own case, for example, I was confirmed in the Catholic Church at Pentecost 2004 but have maintained associate membership in a Mennonite congregation as well. In Bridgefolk we are aware of at least a half dozen people who have worked out similar patterns. Crucially, they have often done so with the knowledge, support, or even the encouragement of both congregational and parish leadership. So there you have at least ten models and precedents. Perhaps they are not all equally fruitful. Nor do all of them operate at the same level. If anything, one of the challenges I am trying to address is the very disparity that leaves some unheralded Christians to improvise patterns of double belonging amid warnings that they are breaking the rules, while warm and generous relationships develop, for example, between Vatican officials and the leadership of Taizé. Nonetheless, even those precedents that are least accessible to Catholic Mennonites, such as official recognition of non-Roman rites or lay associations of the faithful, remind us that when Rome wants to reconcile with a long-estranged Christian community or recognize a movement of the Spirit emerging ‘from below,’ it finds a way. Likewise, when Mennonites want to cooperate with Christians of other churches whom Mennonite historiography or theology once labeled ‘fallen,’ or when Mennonites' own denominational structures fail to match their lived relationships, they find work-arounds. Now, I have no idea when, if ever, Mennonites as a community will consider moving toward visible unity with the Catholic Church. 336 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Mennonite World Conference leaders are on record assuring doubtful constituents that this is not the purpose of its dialogue with the Vatican. Realistically, I am sure that the only possible purpose of the dialogue at this point is simply to reduce mistrust. And yet anyone who joins in lamenting the scandal of Christian disunity in the face of Jesus' prayer ‘that all may be one’ is of necessity looking toward a day when matters will be otherwise. My suggestion is this: If and whenever such a day comes closer, it could actually be easier for Mennonites and some other ‘free churches’ to move toward visible unity than for churches of the magisterial Reformation. Such a claim will no doubt seem counterintuitive to those who assume that the radical Reformation constituted a double estrangement—first from Rome and then from Luther or Calvin. Historians and theologians have been rebutting this for at least three decades by noting certain ways in which Anabaptists remained more Catholic than Protestant in both doctrine and practice.215 But a further point needs attention, this time with regard to polity: The greater asymmetry between so-called high and low churches could actually be an advantage. The magisterial Reformation contested Roman claims of apostolic succession in various ways, of course, but did so in part by pitting another hierarchical authority over against that of bishop and pope—namely the prince or city council. The resulting principle, cuius regio eius religio or the regent’s religion is the region’s religion, was if anything hyper-Constantinian. There had been a territorial element in Christianity since Saint Paul wrote letters to churches in specific regions and the seer of Patmos wrote to their ‘angels,’ but even after Constantine, ecclesiastical jurisdiction had not necessarily been a zero-sum game. Just as feudalism, whatever its flaws, involved more fluid, overlapping, and federated jurisdiction than would soon be the case within the nation- state system, so too medieval Catholicism allowed bishops and monasteries and then itinerant religious orders all to operate at different levels in the same territory.

215 Ground-breaking in this regard was Walter Klaassen, Anabaptism: Neither Catholic Nor Protestant (Waterloo, Ontario, Canada: Conrad Press, 1981); Klaassen reportedly remarked later that he wished he had named the book ‘Anabaptism: Both Catholic and Protestant.’ SCHLABACH Catholic and Mennonite: A Journey of Healing 337

With the disestablishment of all churches in North America and of many others elsewhere, we have moved into yet another cultural and political context, of course. But here is a way to notice the continuing legacy of zero-sum territorial ecclesiology: Someone who called herself both Lutheran and Catholic would sound like an unlikely oxymoron, even on this side of the 1999 concord on justification. Someone who called himself both Mennonite and Lutheran would sound like he's on a post-modern journey. But someone who is both a Franciscan and a Catholic would be altogether unremarkable. So what about Mennonite Catholics? There is a reason why this does not need to be either impossible or merely postmodern—a reason why one day it could even become unremarkable. Mennonites insist on the need for Christian faith to express itself in communities of local accountability. Catholics insist on the need for every local expression of Christian faith to be accountable to apostolic tradition and to the global Church by way of affiliation with its visible representatives. But these two claims can in principle be complementary rather than competing. For the two foci work at different levels and do not necessarily compete for the same territory. In fact, many of the precedents I have listed are already beginning to take contemporary expression. ♦ At a personal level, I already find that the easiest way for me to explain how I can be a Mennonite Catholic is to say I am both in much the same way that a Franciscan or a Benedictine is both. ♦ At a local level, Bridgefolk groups are emerging in a few locales in ways that are sociologically akin to base communities. ♦ At a wider level, Bridgefolk as a whole probably qualifies already as an ecclesial movement. ♦ If an entire Mennonite congregation were to seek entrance into Catholic communion,216 it seems plausible to expect it could work out a juridical relationship with its bishop roughly analogous to that of a Benedictine monastery. ♦ And meanwhile, as I have already noted, Taizé seems to be in the process of becoming a de facto Protestant Catholic rite.

216 I know the leaders of one Mennonite congregation have at least played with this idea. 338 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Conclusion: Brother Roger But perhaps someone has wondered why I keep mentioning Taizé. To be sure, the music of the Taizé community has quickly found a beloved place in Mennonite hymnody, while individual Mennonites have found visits to the Taizé community deeply transformative. But admittedly, Mennonites have no special role or connection with Taizé. Or perhaps someone else will object that my call for some way to formally recognize patterns of accountable double belonging invites an open season of ecclesial poaching. Rightly, one of Cardinal Kasper’s biggest stated worries about responding to ‘individual groupings’ who knock on his door seeking dialogue outside of official denominational channels is precisely this. ‘It is a delicate issue,’ he has said. ‘Obviously we do not wish to be involved in any dishonest double-dealing; we want to have absolutely nothing to do with any form of proselytism’ and must always respond with ‘a high degree of transparency toward our partners in other churches.’217 So why mention Taizé? Because it not only represents one of the most hopeful signs of Vatican openness to fresh and creative models, it also suggests exactly how to avoid ecclesial poaching. Vatican recognition of Taizé as a Protestant ‘rite’ may only be quasi and de facto at this point. But it is far enough along for us to see the potential of allowing individual Christians and grassroots groups to practice double belonging in accountable ways—precluding mere ‘cafeteria’ grazing by individuals on the one hand, and distancing church policy from ecclesial poaching on the other hand. It turns out that when Taizé’s aging leader Brother Roger received communion from soon-to-be Pope Benedict XVI at the funeral of John Paul II, it was neither his first Roman Catholic Eucharist, nor was it merely a concession to a wheelchair-bound nonagenarian with an irresistible smile. A few months after the papal funeral, Brother Roger also died in a senseless public stabbing by a mentally ill woman visiting Taizé; a year later, stories began to emerge that way back in 1972, Brother Roger had actually ‘converted’ to Catholicism. The claim was misleading, as the community quickly clarified:218

217 Kasper, ‘The Current Ecumenical Transition,’ 413. 218 The report first emerged in the newsletter of a traditionalist Catholic organization, and was picked up by the French daily Le Monde in an article of SCHLABACH Catholic and Mennonite: A Journey of Healing 339

If ‘conversion’ meant renouncing his Protestant origins, no, Brother Roger had not converted, and those who interpreted his journey this way had not ‘grasped the originality of Brother Roger’s search.’ Yes, however, Brother Roger had first received communion in 1972 from the then-Bishop of Autun, Mgr Armand LeBourgeois, upon his profession of faith according to the Creed. ‘From a Protestant background,’ explained his community, ‘Brother Roger undertook a step that was without precedent since the Reformation: entering progressively into a full communion with the faith of the Catholic Church without a “conversion” that would imply a break with his origins.’219 The journey was anything but private. In 1980 Brother Roger explained it at a meeting in St. Peter’s Basilica, no less, in the presence of Pope John Paul II: ‘I have found my own identity as a Christian by reconciling within myself the faith of my origins with the mystery of the Catholic faith, without breaking fellowship with anyone.’ As his successor Brother Alois has explained: ‘He was not interested in an individual solution for reconciliation but, through many tentative steps, he sought [a] way [that] could be accessible for others.’ Some of those others are some of us. Personally, I found it little short of astounding to learn these details about Brother Roger. For since my confirmation as a Catholic at Pentecost 2004 I had resisted the label ‘convert’ and instead explained myself in words that are a close theological match to his: ‘I am a Mennonite who has come into full communion with the Catholic Church.’ But although I cannot speak for everyone in Bridgefolk, my deepest hope is for a day when

6 September 2006. The Taizé community’s clarification is available at , with links to related documents. 219 Br. Roger had explained at greater length in Glimmers of Happiness, 92–93: ‘After the First World War, [my maternal grandmother’s] deepest desire was that no one should ever have to go through what she had gone through. Since Christians had been waging war against each other in Europe, she thought, let them at least be reconciled to prevent another war. She came from an old Protestant family, but, living out an inner reconciliation, she began to go to the Catholic Church without making any break with her own people. Impressed by the testimony of her life when I was still fairly young, I found my own Christian identity by reconciling within myself the faith of my origins with the mystery of the Catholic faith without breaking fellowship with anyone.’ 340 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 such strictly individual self-definitions and solutions will not be necessary at all. Surely this too was the hope of soon-to-be Pope Benedict XVI when he offered Brother Roger the Eucharistic host before a watching world, knowing that he was sending a signal, given that few others knew that the Taizé leader had come into full communion years before, but in an unconventional way. Surely this too was the hope of Cardinal Walter Kasper when he officiated at Brother Roger’s funeral mass. For in a church so ritually attuned as the Catholic Church, these are not just expressions of hope but signals calling forth hope. And in Christianity, hope takes on flesh. Enfleshed, scarred, but thus healing and still itching, yes, we do go knocking at doors. 341

BEING ONE AT HOME: INTERCHURCH FAMILIES AS DOMESTIC CHURCH

Thomas Knieps-Port le Roi∗

This article develops a paper presented at the British Association of Interchurch Families 40th Anniversary Conference, Swanwick, UK, 23-25 August 2008. It is divided into two parts. The first part provides an introduction into the concept of ‘domestic church’, thereby referring briefly to its origins in the NT and in the early Church and focussing more extensively on its retrieval in the recent magisterial teaching of the Roman Catholic church. It is also asked in which areas of theology and faith practice the concept may be fruitful and where its possible shortcomings may lie. The second part explores what the significance of the concept could be for interchurch families and, vice versa, what interchurch families’ specific contribution is to further developing the (idea of) domestic church. 1. Family as ‘domestic church’ – opportunities and shortcomings of a theological concept 1.1. A forgotten concept and its recent retrieval Originally, the vision of the Christian family as ‘domestic church’ is an ancient one shared by patristic fathers such as Clement of Alexandria, Gregory of Nazianzus, John Chrysostom and Augustine. For instance, at the end of the fourth century John Chrysostom urges his congregation to make their homes ‘churches’ – an exhortation which is received ‘with great delight’ (In gen. serm. 7,1). The bishop of Constantinople is convinced that: ‘If we regulate our households [properly]…we will also be fit to oversee the church, for indeed the household is a little church.’ (Hom. in Eph. 20)

∗ Thomas Knieps-Port le Roi is a Roman Catholic theologian, married to a Protestant. He holds the INTAMS Chair for the Study of Marriage & Spirituality at the Faculty of Theology of the Catholic University of Leuven, Belgium.

342 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

This analogy between family and church has its roots already in the NT. The author of 1 Timothy describes the bishop as someone who must manage his own household well, keeping his children submissive and respectful in every way – for if someone does not know how to manage his own household, how can he take care of God’s church? (1 Tim. 3:4f.) The quote reflects the situation of the early Christian communities which had been founded by St Paul. Lacking any social infrastructure in this early phase, the newly converted Christians used to gather in private houses. Thereby, they could fall back on the established order of extended households which played an important role in the social and cultural setting of the Greco-Roman world at the time.220 Most probably the conversion of an entire household and the consequent formation of a house church formed a key element in Paul’s strategy to spread the Gospel. These ‘house churches’ to which Paul refers repeatedly in his letters (see 1 Cor: 16,19, Rom. 16: 3-5, Phil. 1-2), served as a building block for the early church at any given location by providing a support base for missionary outreach, a gathering place for worship and prayer and a classroom for catechetic instruction.221 As the church grew over time in number and strength, the domestic character of its primitive communities gradually disappeared and a new system of organization, based on larger territorial structures, came in its place. The close connection between family and church, so obvious for the Pauline communities, weakened and another scriptural tradition, one that was much less family-friendly, gained ground. There is indeed a strand in the NT which upholds that all kinds of blood and kin relationships or any other preferential social relationship are irrelevant, if not an impediment, for those following Christ. According to Jesus’ own command in the Gospel of Luke the terms of discipleship require that ‘whoever comes to me and does not

220 See for an overview C. Osiek & D.L. Balch, Families in the New Testament World. Households and House Churches (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1997). 221 See R.W. Gehring, House Church and Mission. The Importance of Household Structures in Early Christianity (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2004); V.P. Branick, The House Church in the Writings of Paul (Wilmington, DE: Glazier, 1989); R.J. Banks, Paul’s Idea of Community. The Early House Churches in Their Cultural Setting (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1998). KNIEPS-PORT LE ROI Being One at Home: Interchurch Families 343 hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.’ (Luke 14:26) Historically, this rigid position with regard to the family must be linked to Jesus’ first Jewish disciples who followed their master’s example and preached the Gospel as itinerant missionaries.222 Dashing around the country, their vocation did not in fact allow them to settle down, take a wife and found a family. Here we find the scriptural roots of a tradition that regards celibacy and childlessness as the ideal of Christian discipleship and that will ultimately dominate the history of Christianity for the longest period of its existence. The idea of a ‘domestic church’, taking initial shape in the Pauline literature and only sporadically lit up by some patristic authors, falls into oblivion in the church’s theological tradition and faith practice for many centuries. It is only very recently that the idea and concept enjoys growing popularity among church leaders and theologians, initiated mainly by the fathers of the Second Vatican Council who, quite unexpectedly, retrieved the term from its long forgotten sources.223 A short review of some relevant passages in which the term is used in the conciliar and more recent magisterial teaching, may help us to gain further insight into the theological concept. As we will see, all references indicate in a somewhat nuanced way why and in what way the family can be called a ‘church in the home’. 1) Vatican II, Dogmatic Constitution on the Church: Lumen gentium (1964) In the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Lumen gentium, the council fathers develop the idea of the church as ‘people of God’ and indicate for a number of sacraments how they constitute a perfect illustration of the priestly character of God’s people. This is also the case for the sacrament of marriage, out of which the family comes forth:

222 See for a fuller account S.C. Barton, Discipleship and Family Ties in Mark and Matthew (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994). 223 See M.A. Fahey, ‘The Christian Family as Domestic Church at Vatican II,‘ in Lisa S. Cahill/Dietmar Mieth (eds.), The Family, in Concilium 1995/4, 85-92. For a general overview on the concept in contemporary theology and church life, see F.C. Bourg, Where Two or Three Are Gathered. Christian Families as Domestic Churches (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2004). 344 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

From the wedlock of Christians there comes the family, in which new citizens of human society are born, who by the grace of the Holy Spirit received in baptism are made children of God, thus perpetuating the people of God through the centuries. The family is, so to speak, the domestic church (in hac velut Ecclesia domestica). In it parents should, by their word and example, be the first preachers of the faith to their children; they should encourage them in the vocation which is proper to each of them, fostering with special care vocation to a sacred state. (LG 11) This passage can be regarded as a seed text since in it the term ‘domestic church’ appears for the first time in an official church document. The text clearly focuses on the role of the parents who are described as ‘first preachers of the faith to their children’. In a previous text version the family’s entitlement to the dignity of ‘domestic church’ had been justified by presenting it as a place where sacred vocations can develop. This aspect has not totally disappeared, as can be seen from the end of the quote, but the final version ultimately speaks in a much broader sense about the parents’ task to encourage children in their individual vocation and only subsequently to pay special attention to a religious vocation. Compared to the previous draft, the final text also insists that the religious education by the parents takes place ‘by word and by example’ thus underlining the integral nature of faith formation. Notwithstanding these amendments, the definitive version still persists in describing the family as a place at which the church regenerates and perpetuates itself by providing it with dedicated new Christians. 2) Paul VI, Apostolic Exhortation on Evangelization: Evangelii nuntiandi (1975) Pope Paul VI published his postsynodal exhortation Evangelii Nuntiandi on the tenth anniversary of the closing of Vatican II. When reflecting on ‘the evangelizing action of the family in the evangelizing apostolate of the laity’ (EN 71) the pope recalls how the family has been given ‘the beautiful name of “domestic church”’ by the council. This means for the pope that ‘there should be found in every Christian family the various aspects of the entire Church’ and that the family, like the church, ought to be the place where the Gospel is transmitted and from which the Gospel radiates. In a family which is conscious of this mission, all the members evangelize and are evangelized. The parents not only communicate the Gospel to their KNIEPS-PORT LE ROI Being One at Home: Interchurch Families 345

children, but from their children they can themselves receive the same Gospel as deeply received by them. (EN 71) Of course, given the emphasis on evangelization in his exhortation, the pope especially focuses on the proclamation of the Gospel within the family: it is precisely in proclaiming the Gospel that the family resembles the church. Noteworthy is also the powerful assessment of the active participation of children within the domestic church: not only the parents have the task of transmitting the faith to their children, but also vice versa, the children teach their parents in matters of faith. Interestingly, the pope also explicitly refers to interchurch families in that very same context: Families resulting from a mixed marriage also have the duty of proclaiming Christ to the children in the fullness of the consequences of a common Baptism; they have moreover the difficult task of becoming builders of unity. (Ibid.) 3) Vatican II, Decree on the Apostolate of the Laity: Apostolicam actuositatem (1965) The tone is different again in the Decree on the Apostolate of the Laity Apostolicam actuositatem, another document promulgated by Vatican II in which different fields of apostolate are presented and among them family life. Here we find the expression ecclesia domestica paraphrased in the sense that the family not only receives the divine mission ‘to be the primary living cell of society’, but also ‘to be like a domestic sanctuary in the church’ (tamquam domesticum sanctuarium ecclesiae): The family received from God the mission to be the primary living cell of society. It can fulfil this mission by showing itself, in the mutual loyalty of its members and in shared prayer offered to God, to be like a domestic sanctuary in the church; when the whole family is involved together in the liturgy; and when it offers generous hospitality and promotes justice and other good works in the service of the needy. (AA 11) The analogy between family and church is no longer based merely on the task of evangelization, but expands into a number of characteristic features in which the family shares in the life of the church as a whole: in both instances, there is supposed to be loyalty and communion between the members, a shared life of prayer and worship, practice of hospitality and commitment to justice and charitable works. The 346 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 family is church in that it does what the church as a whole has to be and to do. 4) John Paul II, Apostolic Exhortation on the Family: Familiaris consortio (1981) Also in the more recent magisterial teaching the term is frequently used. In his Apostolic Exhortation on the family of 1981, John Paul II sets out to examine the many profound bonds linking the Church and the Christian family and establishing the family as a ‘Church in miniature’ (Ecclesia domestica), (…) in such a way that in its own way the family is a living image and historical representation of the mystery of the Church. (FC 49) While the conciliar documents had spoken about the domestic church with some reservation, using Latin particles like velut, ‘so to speak’ (in hac velut Ecclesia domestica) and tamquam, ‘to be like’ (tamquam domesticum sanctuarium ecclesiae), John Paul II bluntly calls the Christian family ‘a specific revelation and realization of ecclesial communion’ which ‘for this reason too…can and should be called “the domestic Church”.’ (FC 21) 1.2. Promise, inconsistencies, and shortcomings of the concept As may be clear from the previous quotes, official documents such as Familiaris consortio in fact make a pretty provocative claim about the ecclesial character of ordinary families. As the US Bishops put it in their 1994 pastoral letter to families, Follow the Way of Love: The profound and the ordinary moments of daily life – mealtimes, workdays, vacations, expressions of love and intimacy, household chores, caring for a sick child or elderly parent, and even conflicts over things like how to celebrate holidays, discipline children, or spend money – all are the threads from which you can weave a pattern of holiness…The point of the teaching is simple, yet profound. As Christian families, you not only belong to the Church, but your daily life is a true expression of the Church.224 What is officially acknowledged here, is that Christian families become Christ’s body and form his church. In and through their

224 National Conference of Catholic Bishops, Follow the Way of Love. A Pastoral Letter of the US Catholic Bishops to Families on the Occasion of the United Nations 1994 International Year of the Family (Washington,DC: USCC,1994), 8. KNIEPS-PORT LE ROI Being One at Home: Interchurch Families 347 family life they make Christ present to the world, according to Christ’s own words that ‘where two or three are gathered’ in his name, he is present among them (see Matt. 18:20). The idea of domestic church articulates something new and unparalleled in the history of Christianity in that it establishes ordinary family life as a sphere of grace and as a medium of encounter between humans and God. Thus, it puts an end to a longstanding tradition within Christianity (at least until the Reformation) which regarded marriage and family life as the second best option for Christians and promoted celibacy and childlessness as the more valuable spiritual way and as a precondition for ecclesial ministries and offices. Herein lies undoubtedly a promising opportunity for further profiling the role of the family within theology and church life. On the negative side, however, it has to be noted that the term and concept of ‘domestic church’ so far have been used mainly within the Roman Catholic tradition. Although present as a prominent theme in Orthodox theology and practice225 – one of the highlights of an Orthodox wedding is that the bride and groom are adorned with crowns which is meant to remind them of their role as rulers or leaders of their own domestic church – it seems largely absent from Protestant theology and church life. What is more disturbing, however, from a theological point of view is that despite its frequent use in the magisterial, scholarly and edifying literature the concept itself still lacks clarity and distinctiveness. Mainly two central questions have remained unsolved in the field of theology: (1) what exactly qualifies the family to form the smallest unity of the church? and (2) what type of family is actually required to fulfil this role? I will shortly look into both aspects. If one asks what it is precisely that qualifies the family to form the smallest unity of the church, one gets divergent answers. Some theologians argue that Christian or sacramental marriage is at the basis of the family being a realization of church;226 since marriage

225 See e.g. P. Evdokimov, ‘Ecclesia Domestica‘, in L’anneau d’or, 107 (1962), 353-362. 226 See e.g. E.P. Mastroianni, Christian Family as Church? Inquiry, Analysis, And Pastoral Implications (unpublished doctoral dissertation, Duquesne University, Pittsburgh, PA, 1999). 348 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 between two baptized Christians is an image and a reflection of the communion between Christ and his church, sacramental marriage renders the church present in the form of its smallest unit. Yet others emphasize the Christian family’s baptismal and vocational character which makes it an ecclesial reality only to the extent that it fulfils its mission of evangelization and transmitting the faith; rather than marriage, the baptism of the family members and their baptismal vocation is therefore the necessary qualification for becoming a real church community.227 In both cases, the domestic church rests on a sacramental basis which qualifies it for its ecclesial title: the spouses through the sacrament of marriage, the family members, parents and children alike, through baptism. In both cases, a static or even magic understanding of sacrament would be totally misplaced: as if once sacramentally married, the couple forms a domestic church; or as if baptized people once living together in a family constitute a little church. There is a broad agreement, that in either case the sacramental basis needs its unfolding and a subsequent engaged faith life: a committed, faithful and fruitful couple relation in the first instance and an active commitment to one’s baptismal vocation and to one another in the second place. Yet, the distinction between baptism and marriage as potential grounds for the domestic church has far reaching implications in another respect: if not sacramental marriage, but baptism qualifies for the domestic church, then one could conclude that also today’s new forms of family life (i.e. those not or no longer based on marriage) have a right to this title; that leads us to the second open question: what type of family is actually required to fulfil the status and role of domestic church? It is obvious that any theological reflection about the family cannot simply bypass the multi-coloured reality of contemporary family life. Consequently, there is also discussion among theologians about which family type counts for domestic church. Whereas for some a normative concept of the family, i.e. based on formal marriage between two heterosexual spouses is needed to bring out its authentic

227 See e.g. C. Watkins, ‘Traditio – The Ordinary Handling of Holy Things. Reflections de doctrina christiana from an Ecclesiology Ordered to Baptism‘, in New Blackfriars 87 (2006), 166-183. KNIEPS-PORT LE ROI Being One at Home: Interchurch Families 349 theological nature,228 others opt for recognizing the diversity of contemporary households and trust in the quality of interpersonal relationships lived out in them, whether they are based on marriage or not.229 Moreover, there is also scepticism among theologians and church leaders when it comes to test out the pastoral viability of the concept of domestic church. Some argue that for us today it is much more problematic to take the family as an image for what the church as a whole might be like. Contemporary families have turned out to be fragile and prone to the influences of a growing individualization and pluralisation, as the alarming statistics about marriage and subsequent family breakdown, the increasing number of single parents and the evidence of domestic violence show. So, is it realistic, let be desirable, to expect a renewal of the church(es) by resorting to one of the institutions which is hardly able to resist the present trends of social decomposition? Moreover, do we not risk to raise only a specific type and ideal of family to the dignity of emulating the characteristics of the church, while others which do not fully correspond to that ideal are left to further disregard or even discrimination? One may become particularly alert here with regard to the Roman Catholic church’s explicit preference for a family model that is grounded in marriage. Does the idea of domestic church not discourage instead of encouraging present day families to become aware of their vocation? But even if such a division into first and second class families could be avoided, one may still wonder whether we do not ask too much of contemporary families and put an additional burden on their shoulders when expecting them to become ‘churches in miniature’? Is it not high time for the churches to encourage and support families in their daily needs and sorrows instead of asking of them evermore engagement with regard to the transmission of faith and to serving as

228 See e.g. J.C. Atkinson, ‘Family as Domestic Church. Developmental Trajectory, Legitimacy, and Problems of Appropriation,‘, in Theological Studies 66 (2005), 592-604. 229 See e.g. J. Heaney-Hunter, ‘The Domestic Church. Guiding Beliefs and Daily Practices‘, in M.G. Lawler & W.P. Roberts (eds.), Christian Marriage and Family. Contemporary Theological and Pastoral Perspectives (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1996), 59-78. 350 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 the last remaining bulwark of Christianity in the present context of secularization? 1.3. Conditions and requirements for implementing the concept I do not agree with most of this scepticism because it seems to me that its adherents remain attached to and inspired by the kind of hierarchical and juridical thinking which the idea of domestic church has the potential to overturn. The habit of looking at the church in a dualistic way by distinguishing between the hierarchical ministry and the laity is still dominant in many Roman Catholic minds. Just as many lay persons and their families still want ‘to be told what to do’, many a church leader finds it hard to believe that the family is truly church while its proclamation of the Word is not officially authorized and while it does not celebrate the Eucharist in union with the bishop as the local parish does. However, with Vatican II, leadership and ministry are no longer rooted in the hierarchy, but in the entire ‘people of God’. The ministry and leadership of the church now become ‘shared’ leadership and ministry of all the people of God, including what we still call the ‘laity’. Therefore, the very idea of domestic church would be distorted if interpreted as the smallest possible unit of the universal church, still smaller than the local parish, but always part of that institutional structure warranted by the hierarchical ministry. It would then anyway end up in becoming a prolongation of the large church into its marginal edges, always at risk of being downgraded to an incomplete realization of church. A previous draft of Vatican II’s constitution on the church, where it speaks of the domestic church, contained a quote from St Augustine who had described Christian heads of households as having an ‘episcopal function’ similar to his own: Take my place in your families. Everyone who is head of a house must exercise the episcopal office and see to the Faith of his people…Take care with all watchfulness for the salvation of the members of the Household entrusted to you. (Sermo 94) The draft text at least stated that both parents ‘almost exercise an episcopal function’ (quasi munus episcopale) – and not the father alone! Luckily, however, this quote was dropped altogether in the final version of Lumen gentium. Still, a similar attitude of spelling out ecclesial structures down to the smallest community may continue to inspire a certain vision of the domestic church, not without KNIEPS-PORT LE ROI Being One at Home: Interchurch Families 351 discrediting the idea as such, in particular for many families themselves. In that regard, I understand and share the concern which was expressed by one group in a recent consultation process carried out by the American Association of Interchurch Families (but which is equally pertinent for same-church families): …a woman from another group pointed out that we need to think of the family as ‘church’ – but not in an institutional sense. Her group agreed that interchurch families experience a distinct sense of ‘unity’ in their home that is different from the church-as-institution. Ecumenical couples (and their children) do talk about religion, morality, and God in the setting of their home in ways that are different from how these are discussed in the institutional church, Sunday school, or parochial school.230 This quote makes clear that the very idea of domestic church ultimately revolutionizes our common understanding of church and Christianity. I will point to some areas and issues to stimulate your imagination and show what this reversal of perspective could mean: • Whereas in the traditional view individuals physically and emotionally separated themselves from their families in order to live a truly spiritual life and serve God without distraction, in the new scenario we have to imagine that God will be encountered and served more readily in ordinary life, among members of one’s household with its particular, everyday ties, duties and responsibilities. • ‘… natural leaders (celibate or not, male or female) who emerged within household communities could be approached by diocesan leaders and asked if they would be willing to be prepared for ordination “with the clear prospect of continuing the same functions in the same place, but with the added impetus of ecclesial recognition.” Dioceses and religious orders would still provide for training and ordination of the “comparatively mobile type of apostle” (probably celibate) who would plan for a life of ordained ministry and

230 ‘The Domestic Church’. Report on Conversations by AAIF (The American Association of Interchurch Families) for IFIN (Interchurch Families International Network) Research-/Study-Group, November 2007, by G. Kilcourse, nr. 5 (unpublished document). 352 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 who would be available to fulfil needs beyond the reach or resources of the household church.’231 • From the new perspective, the enclosing of our liturgical celebrations into a particular building (church, monastery, sanctuary etc.) and in a particular time (Sunday mass, breviary, liturgical year) would appear artificial; instead, our homes would become places of daily worship, of shared prayers and meals; and the life cycles of the family with birthdays, wedding anniversaries, commemoration of dead family member etc. would structure our religious calendar. • Likewise, natural friendships and gatherings of children within a household would appear as the setting for religious education rather than Sunday schools and classes for catechetical instruction. To whom this scenario with liturgical and educational household gatherings appears too elitist and too far away from the reality of today’s families, one may respond that since early times Christian communities have always needed an elite group and parishes and other church organizations still need them today; but there is reason to believe that in the smaller home setting it would be less likely that the ‘vaguely committed’ would feel neglected or excluded. Moreover, when it comes to issues that impact on families, the church’s preoccupation often seems to be posing definitions, criteria, and standards – of completing requirements, of being in good standing, of validity etc. – to which families are asked to measure up. Does your family come to mass every week? do you pray together as a couple and as a family? have your children attended religion classes? do you use the correct form of birth control? etc. In her monograph on the domestic churches, Florence Bourg rightly argues that ‘standards or expectations such as these can have a legitimate purpose, but their existence creates an environment in which it is easy to feel inadequate or guilty for falling short.’232 Whoever complains that contemporary families might not be up to be church at home, should seriously review the presuppositions which underlie this perception. The very idea of domestic church should stir up our imagination and make us look at what families actually ‘achieve’ in terms of education and care, in taking responsibility for each other, in enduring in situations of hardship and suffering, but also in providing

231 Quoted from Bourg, Where Two or Three Are Gathered, 37. 232 Ibid., 25. KNIEPS-PORT LE ROI Being One at Home: Interchurch Families 353 good examples of a marital and family spirituality to which many in the church are still unaccustomed. 2. ‘Domestic church’ and interchurch families I have presented two different angles from which to look at faith and church life: on the one hand the conventional, all-pervading institutional perspective, and on the other, the perspective from a home and family setting with which most of us are still unfamiliar. I will ask now what role interchurch families can play in all this. I will develop my argument in two theses. 2.1. My first thesis is that interchurch families are more advanced than same-church families in adopting a ‘domestic church’ perspective. It struck me that Ruth Reardon’s report on the consultation of the English Association of Interchurch Families starts out with the self- assured statement that interchurch families regard themselves as ‘just the same as other couples and families’: We are just the same as other couples and families, united by our faith in Christ and our commitment to one another in marriage. We share our lives, our activities, our interests. We work to understand one another and to communicate with one another. We strive for sensitivity and we forgive one another when we fail. We laugh together, and we share one another’s sorrows. We respect one another. We grow in love for one another. As parents we do our best to share our faith in Christ with our children. As families we are different from one another, as all families are. 233 What an amazing sign of normality, so long desired and fought for; and what an impressive testimony of maturity, a maturity which, as is well-known, was not reached in one day but engaged at least two generations of interchurch families over the last half-century in their struggle with the church authorities, just as it engaged numerous individual couples in their daily struggles of family life. But it is exactly this maturity that qualifies interchurch families more than same-church families as protagonists of a church that is built up from the home rather than from organizational structures. The reason is

233 Study on Interchurch Families as Domestic Churches. Report on the AIF Groups, Spring 2007, by R. Reardon (unpublished document).

354 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 simple: interchurch spouses do no longer take for granted their church of origin with its specific structure of authority, way of worship, church life, doctrine and spirituality. Unless one of the partners gives up on his or her religious affiliation or the spouses decide to worship in their churches separately, they have to form a religious community of its own right and shape. The 2003 Rome Document Interchurch Families and Christian Unity234 has described the different stages of a learning process which interchurch spouses and families have to go through and in which they develop a number of competences which make them look at their own and the partner’s church in a different light. I summarize them briefly: 1) To improve knowledge and gain understanding of and respect for the other and his/her religious affiliation. The document explicitly points out that ‘as marriage partners [interchurch couples] want to share all that is of value in each other’s lives, and as Christian marriage partners this includes especially the riches of their respective ecclesial communions’ (B 3). Thus, in a process of exploring and of getting to know the other in his/her ecclesial involvement, ignorance and prejudice toward the other church are said to be overcome and mutual respect to take place. Likewise, the process of exploration pertains also to the partner’s church community in its concrete reality including ‘ways of worship, church life, doctrine, spirituality, authority, and ethics’ (C 2). This can lead to ‘a mutual appreciation of the positive gifts of each other’s churches and a mutual understanding of their weaknesses’ (C 2). 2) To overcome ‘cognitive egocentrism’ and empathize with the other and the other’s church by assuming his/her perspective. In a spirit and practice of ‘mutual immersion and participation in the life of their two church communities’ (C 1) the spouses are enabled ‘to evaluate the other church in terms of its own language and ways of thought, action and being’ (C 2). The document distances itself from a

234 The document Interchurch Families and Christian Unity was adopted by the world gathering of interchurch families in 2003 near Rome. Text available at (accessed 2 July 2008). In the following, references to this document are given by indicating the main sections and its internal numbering (e.g. B 1). KNIEPS-PORT LE ROI Being One at Home: Interchurch Families 355 form of perception and judgement which is determined by one’s ‘own values, emphases, use of language and structure of thought’ and has been characteristic for a past polemical mentality ‘in which one church often defined itself by what another was not.’ 3) To transcend one’s own and the other’s position and attain a perspective from which initially perceived divergences appear reconcilable and new sense is generated. Interchurch families report on their coming to understand ‘that the same truth can be expressed in a variety of forms, and that very often the more ways in which it is expressed, the deeper we penetrate into its reality’ (C 2). Through their way of living in each other’s religious tradition ‘they realize that all differences are not church dividing, but many are complementary and can lead to the enrichment of diversity’ (C 1). The relevance of this ability can hardly be overestimated when interchurch families are to develop a shared religiosity rather than lead a religious life in parallel. To do so, a fourth and final competence is needed which quits the realm of pure cognition and turns into practice. 4) The capacity for self-conscious ethical decision making and action. Interpersonal identity development requires that a person who has got insight into the relativity of his/her own and the other’s perspective is able to suspend and revise his/her previous reliance on and trust of external sources of authority and the value systems connected to them. Successful interchurch families will automatically develop a critical judgement vis-à-vis particular beliefs and practices of the denominational churches if they are to construct a shared religious identity. The Rome document welcomes this last competence for instance when interchurch couples are granted the right ‘to forge their own particular family traditions which may incorporate much of the [Christian spiritual] traditions of the two families in which they were brought up, but now fused into a new pattern’ (B 2). It is taken into account that ‘(t)here can be a clash between what [interchurch families] wish to do and judge to be right for their family life and its unity, and the (often conflicting) attitudes and rules of their respective two ecclesial communions’ (B 5). In cases of conflict, the principle is recognized ‘that to go beyond the rules is not always to go against them’ (B 5). 356 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

These specific competences seem to me particularly useful in developing what I call a ‘domestic church perspective’. One of the problems of the concept of domestic church when used in a same- church context is that families find themselves trying to model themselves on how they perceive church and on what they understand by church or on what is theologically understood by church. They are not encouraged to recognize the proper theological status of their own domestic and familial experience which is a gift (and sometimes a critical gift) to their church. Interchurch families, however, do not have a blueprint of how the church should look in which they could be living. Therefore they have to trust much more than same-church families in the community they are concretely forming in their homes and in the way they live their spousal and familial relationships both within and across the divided ecclesial bodies they belong to. Ironically, the fact that the one church of Christ, uniting all its members without divisions, does not have a concrete visible shape so far, can help interchurch families to build Christian communities at a grass-root level which foreshadow Christian unity more than the denominational churches are ever be able to do. Understood in this way, there is little reason to fear that [f]or too many interchurch families, this terminology of ‘domestic church’ can carry connotations of domesticating their families according to some preconceived, canonical paradigm that accepts the scandal of our division and only grudgingly affords possibilities for fuller communion, e.g. in ‘exceptional’ Eucharistic sharing.235 On the contrary, rightly understood, the terminology carries a liberating undertone in that it acknowledges as genuine the ecclesial communion of the interchurch home and their role as ‘builders of unity’ in an area which is largely uncharted terrain for the confessional churches. 2.2. That leads me to my second thesis: Interchurch families offer to the Christian churches an alternative way of coping with their painful divisions. In numerous publications by theologians and ecumenists and also in more recent official or even magisterial statements, the role of interchurch families as ‘builders of unity’ has been highlighted. All

235 G. Kilcourse, ‘The Domestic Church: New vector or cul-de-sac for interchurch families?’, in AIF Journal 3/1, January 1995, 7-9, at 8. KNIEPS-PORT LE ROI Being One at Home: Interchurch Families 357 these statements agree in principle that interchurch families have a particular role to play in bringing the divided Christian churches closer together and, ultimately, to the unity urged by Christ himself. The reality in the official church bodies, however, looks different. I have tried to show in a study that the official stance of the Roman Catholic church views interchurch families as a subset of the larger problem of Christian division and thus along the same lines as it understands its relationship with non-Catholic churches: as real but imperfect communion.236 In this institutionally oriented approach, couples from different denominations seem to be able to realize spousal and familial unity only to the extent that the concerned church bodies are willing or able to admit ecclesial communion among their respective communities. An alternative view on Christian unity would be at hand, however, if the churches adopted a domestic church perspective. What this might imply has been illustrated in a compelling way by Rosemary Haughton in her book The Knife Edge of Experience in which she has dedicated a chapter on the experiences of families. Although her vision dates from the 1970s, it has not lost any of its relevance for today: A household of the open kind will often include people of different denominational origins. But even if older members of the family are aware of this as a problem, it must always be more natural to include these people in all that goes on, including the liturgy, rather than excluding them. Exactly how the mixing goes on is bound to vary, but mixing there is and will be. But where the present younger generation is concerned there is very little awareness of divisions, at least as a problem. The young Christians who take their faith most seriously are the ones least likely to see any sense in denominational divisions. If they find themselves in a group of other Christians they will normally worship together if they worship at all, and that includes taking communion, if a Eucharist is celebrated. This is not an act of defiance, it is simply that the arguments against it, and the prohibitions, make

236 See T. Knieps-Port le Roi, ‘Conjugal and Ecclesial Communion in Inter- church Marriage’ in B.J. Hilberath, I. Noble, J. Oeldemann & P. De Mey (eds.), Ökumene des Lebens als Herausforderung der wissenschaftlichen Theologie. Tagungsbericht der 14. Wissenschaftlichen Konsultation der Societas Oecumenica/Ecumenism of Life as a Challenge for Academic Theology. Proceedings of the 14th Academic Consultation of the Societas Oecumenica (Frankfurt: O. Lembeck, 2008), 333-342. 358 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

so little sense to them that they set them aside without noticing it, and without any sense of rebellion. But whereas in a ‘proper’ church building this must seem to others an act of aggressive defiance, in a home it is scarcely noticeable.237 What I find so compelling in Haughton’s view is that it is not tributary to any ideological agenda, not even an anti-dogmatic or anti- institutional one. It is the logic itself of small communities, like families are, to deal with differences and otherness of its members – be they related to gender, ethnicity, religious convictions or church belonging – just the way it is described here. If our Christian communities were able to retrieve and validate this kind of experience which is daily practised by and in families, along with the common sense that goes with it, much would be gained in understanding and building the church that Christ has willed and which many African and Asian Christians these days find no better name for than ‘family of God’. The lesson we may learn from Haughton and so many other theologians of the twentieth century is not that experience, and more particularly family and interchurch family experience, should come in the place of theology, but that it should be taken seriously as a genuine source of theological reflection. It will therefore require not less, but more theological reflection to fathom the ecclesiological implications of what interchurch families are already living and witnessing to as ‘domestic churches’. One clear message of their testimony, however, is that the churches need to relate to one another in the way that interchurch families do, if they really want to grow into unity. A kind of ‘road map’ for this journey into Christian unity has already been suggested by the UK groups of interchurch families: Love one another – in a real and deep and lasting way… Get to know one another at a deep level: work at communicating, listening, sharing, praying. Put faith in Christ first, more important than our differences. Focus on what unites, learn to recognise and overcome intolerance, prejudice, tribalism, to distinguish essentials from non-essentials, to correct the myths in all churches about the others.

237 R. Haughton, The Knife Edge of Experience (London: Darton, Longman & Todd, 1972), 118f.

KNIEPS-PORT LE ROI Being One at Home: Interchurch Families 359

Be committed to unity, and be prepared to go through a painful process out of disunity because we have to find a way forward together. Stay with it, in spite of frustrations and impatience: it takes a long time, but change does happen. Believe that divisions can be overcome because unity is God’s gift to us in Christ. But don’t expect that we can receive perfect unity. Experience differences as enrichment, value and love the differences, see all that is good in the other. Look at differences together, not from opposite sides. Be ready to change; institutions tend to be slower than married partners to realise they need to change, if the relationship is to progress. Sticking points can become growing points… Be open to valuing and liking what your partner likes, though you do not have to like it all. We can disagree without falling apart. Welcome differences as a stimulus to develop our own faith understanding, to look deeper. Develop an inclusive attitude, hospitable and welcoming. Do well what you do well, and join in with others when they do things better. Spend time in other churches; this is valuable for both you and the host community. You will understand more; they will have to watch what they say when they realise you are there. Think of the ‘other’ in terms of who they are, not in terms of who you are. Be convinced that unity really matters now. Responsibility for our children gives interchurch families a sense of urgency about unity. Cannot the churches feel more urgently their pastoral responsibilities for these children, and their urgent need to witness to the world that unity with God and with one another that Christ came to demonstrate and to share with us, the unity for which he prayed?238

238 Study on Interchurch Families as Domestic Churches, by R. Reardon. 360 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

LAMBETH INDABA 2008 AND ITS ECUMENICAL IMPLICATIONS

Gregory K. Cameron∗

Lambeth Conferences have always had a degree of impact on the wider ecumenical movement. The 2008 Lambeth Conference eschewed resolution making as a method in favour of indaba, an African approach to purposeful discussion. The indaba method has wider resonances, however, with a shift in ecumenical method discerned elsewhere, and may point to renewed ways of engaging with one another.

There are many aspects of the recent Lambeth Conference which have relevance to the wider ecumenical movement. It would be possible to talk about the way in which the Conference engaged with ecumenical texts for example; or about the way in which ecumenical guests were invited to be fully participants in the life of the Conference; or yet again about the ecumenical vision articulated in the Conference’s Reflection Document. I would like in this article, however, to concentrate on one particular aspect of the Conference: the adoption of the indaba method of engagement, and to explore some of the ecumenical implications of its adoption. Lambeth Conferences Past and Present Almost every Christian World Communion has a rhythm to its life which is measured by its great assemblies - the Assemblies of the Lutheran World Federation or the World Alliance of Reformed Churches, and the current cycle of Synods of Bishops in the Roman Catholic Church spring immediately to mind. For Anglicans, the Lambeth Conferences play that role - the common life of the Anglican Churches tends to wax and wane in cycles of a decade between these

∗ Canon Gregory Cameron is Deputy Secretary General of the Anglican Communion and Director of Ecumenical Affairs with special responsibility for its ecumenical dialogues. He was part of the team responsible for staffing the Conference.

CAMERON Lambeth Indaba 2008 361 gatherings of all the bishops of the Anglican Communion. There have now been fourteen Lambeth Conferences, and they have often had a profound impact on the ecumenical life of the Anglican Communion, if not of the whole oikumene. One thinks perhaps of the Lambeth Conference of 1888, which set out Anglican principles of ecumenical engagement by adapting the principles originally developed at the House of Bishops Meeting of the Protestant Episcopal Church of the United States in 1886 in Chicago: That, in the opinion of this Conference, the following articles supply a basis on which approach may be by God's blessing made towards home reunion: a. The Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments, as ‘containing all things necessary to salvation,’ and as being the rule and ultimate standard of faith. b. The Apostles' Creed, as the baptismal symbol; and the Nicene Creed, as the sufficient statement of the Christian faith. c. The two sacraments ordained by Christ himself - Baptism and the Supper of the Lord - ministered with unfailing use of Christ's words of institution, and of the elements ordained by him. d. The historic episcopate, locally adapted in the methods of its administration to the varying needs of the nations and peoples called of God into the unity of his Church.239 Or perhaps of the 1920 Lambeth Conference’s appeal to all Christian people: The vision which rises before us is that of a Church, genuinely Catholic, loyal to all truth, and gathering into its fellowship all ‘who profess and call themselves Christians,’ within whose visible unity all the treasures of faith and order, bequeathed as a heritage by the past to the present, shall be possessed in common, and made serviceable to the whole Body of Christ.240 The 1988 Conference was the Conference that gave the definitive response of the Anglican Communion to the Final Report of ARCIC I: This Conference … recognises the Agreed Statements of ARCIC I on ‘Eucharistic Doctrine, Ministry and Ordination,’ and their Elucidations,

239 The Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral - Resolution 11 of the 1888 Lambeth Conference. 240 From The Appeal to All Christian People, Resolution 9 of the 1920 Lambeth Conference. 362 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

as consonant in substance with the faith of Anglicans and believes that this agreement offers a sufficient basis for taking the next step forward towards the reconciliation of our Churches grounded in agreement in faith.241 It is often said that as we move into the twenty-first century, the ecumenical movement has been entering an ecumenical winter, as the giddy hopes of inter-communion articulated by the generation that followed the upheavals of the Second World War gave way to the more sober assessments of their successors, and with talk centring on the long journey still to be undertaken towards even the simplest tangible expressions of restored communion, of new obstacles and restated goals. And it would be fair to say that the second half of the twentieth century has thrown up a number of challenges to the oikumene, as some Churches and traditions began to articulate new answers to ancient questions on the basis of radical paradigm shifts in the secular world. The feminist and sexual revolutions of the sixties and seventies offered new perspectives on the role of women in the Church; the ongoing insights flowing from these revolutions challenged the Churches as gay and lesbian persons gained more confidence in proclaiming that their sexualities and spiritualities could be nourished and expressed together with integrity, and that the one did not have to be sacrificed to the expression of the other. Churches and traditions have had to dig deep into their inheritance, traditions and resources to answer the new questions about human life and Christian discipleship thrown up by these insights, and the answers developed have disrupted and divided the internal lives of almost all the Christian World Communions to a greater or lesser degree, as well as contributing to a sense of estrangement between traditions. Are Churches prepared to be prophetic in throwing off old chains of prejudice and injustice? Are Churches faithful in proclaiming the unchanging truths of God’s revelation to a world which is becoming increasingly given over to the autonomy of the individual and to post-modern relativism? These themes formed the pressing background to the fourteenth Lambeth Conference held this year. The bishops of the Anglican Communion gathered with profound questions and challenges for each other: about the ordination of women to the episcopate, about

241 Resolution 8, sub-section 1, 1988 Lambeth Conference. CAMERON Lambeth Indaba 2008 363 the inclusion of gay and lesbian persons in the life of the Church, about prophetic ministry and faithfulness - let alone before they took into account the curiosity and questioning that was present in the minds of our ecumenical partners. Indeed, the questions and the challenges of changing practice in some of the Churches was too much for some of the brethren (and in this context, I use that word advisedly), and some 191 bishops (110 of them from one Province - the Church of Nigeria [Anglican Communion]) either chose or were directed by their synods or primates not to attend the Conference. As it was, about 630 bishops accepted the invitation of Archbishop Rowan Williams to join him in prayer and conversation in Canterbury in the second half of July 2008. Indaba The Conference for which they gathered was radically different in tone and process to the Conferences that had proceeded it. Virtually all the Lambeth Conferences of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries had followed a similar pattern - the bishops gathered would be divided up into different sections, and each section given a discrete area of Christian life, mission or witness to study before bringing a series of resolutions to plenary gatherings towards the close of the Conference. Thus in 1998, the Conference had separated out into four sections: Section 1, Called to Full Humanity, dealing with social concerns and issues; Section 2, Called to live and proclaim the Good News, on mission; Section 3, Called to be Faithful in a Plural World, dealing with pastoral and dogmatic concerns; and Section 4, Called to be One, dealing with ecumenical matters. In addition, a fifth section of resolutions looked at the numerous concerns that arose in the different regions of the world, addressing issues of doctrine and justice generated from the Provinces of the Communion. As the planning for the 2008 Lambeth Conference developed, the feeling was that these older methods of engagement were losing their currency. First, there was a widespread feeling that the mechanism of sections and resolutions had failed to deliver, not least on the question of sexuality: that the processes that had generated the Lambeth 1998 Resolution 1.10 on Human Sexuality had polarised the Conference and undermined the collegiality and fellowship of the bishops. Nor had the final resolution, despite being passed by a very substantial majority and reasserting traditional teaching on human 364 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 sexuality, proved to be a unifying element in the life of the Communion, but had become a bone of contention ‘too hot to handle’ at the 2008 Conference. In addition, there was a feeling that models of debate and engagement that had governed previous conferences were all too familiar to the western world. Allied to quasi- parliamentary procedures, they had privileged articulate western English speakers amongst the bishops, so that voting and resolution inevitably created winners and losers in a manner not consonant with the ethos of koinonia. From the first, therefore, the Archbishop of Canterbury indicated that he wanted a conference which was ‘resolution-lite’. In fact, the Lambeth Conference Design Group, eight people largely in episcopal orders from around the Communion, opted to go further and eschew resolution making entirely. Instead, they turned to African conceptions of decision-making, to indaba, a Zulu word which means ‘purposeful discussion’. In the run-up to the opening of the Conference, the Archbishop of Canterbury offered this description of what indaba would mean for the Conference: At the heart of this will be the indaba groups. Indaba is a Zulu word describing a meeting for purposeful discussion among equals. Its aim is not to negotiate a formula that will keep everyone happy but to go to the heart of an issue and find what the true challenges are before seeking God’s way forward. It is a method with parallels in many cultures, and it is close to what Benedictine monks and Quaker Meetings seek to achieve as they listen quietly together to God, in a community where all are committed to a fellowship of love and attention to each other and to the word of God. Each day’s work in this context will go forward with careful facilitation and preparation, to ensure that all voices are heard (and many languages also!). The hope is that over the two weeks we spend together, these groups will build a level of trust that will help us break down the walls we have so often built against each other in the Communion. And in combination with the intensive prayer and fellowship of the smaller Bible study groups, all this will result, by God’s grace, in clearer vision and discernment of what needs to be done.242

242 Pentecost Letter of the Archbishop of Canterbury to the Bishops of the Anglican Communion, 13 May 2008, accessed at: CAMERON Lambeth Indaba 2008 365

Of course, what transpired at the Conference was not pure indaba as Africa knew it; there was no plenary gathering at which all voices spoke as long as they wished until all had been heard with the chief having the final say, making decisions on the basis of all that had gone before. But the conference was faithful to the concept of indaba in two vital respects. First, the conference was designed to enable there to be real engagement and fellowship by the bishops: each conference day started with an hour spent in small Bible study groups of eight; further time was spent in indaba sessions where five bible study groups (40 persons) came together to discuss the topic of the day. These sessions were structured to enable every voice to be heard - there was less room for grandstanding, more possibility for encounter. And this genuinely seems to have happened - even if those most used to parliamentary filibustering were the most uncomfortable with what they perceived as constraint. As the Reflections Document eventually recorded: This conference has taken on a new form – the form of indaba – based upon an African ideal of purposeful discussion on the common concerns of our shared life. It is a process and a method of engagement as we listen to one another. An indaba acknowledges first and foremost that there are issues that need to be addressed effectively to foster ongoing communal living. It enables every bishop to engage and speak his or her mind and not to privilege the articulate or the powerful. Every aspect of the conference has been an expression of indaba, expressed through our worship and bible studies, self-select sessions, hearings, plenary sessions and speakers, listening and reflecting, and even conversation in the meal queues. Above all else, we have worked together on the themes of the Conference in our focussed indaba sessions, when we have spent two hours each day in purposeful conversation that invites us to encounter the reality of each other’s ministry and concerns. This person to person encounter has been one of the most encouraging, engaging – if at times frustrating - aspects of the Conference.243

28 Nov. 2008 243 Lambeth Indaba, paragraph 14. The full text of the Reflections document can be found at accessed 28 Nov. 2008 366 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Secondly, engagement generated a sense of solidarity and fellowship: Our time together has indeed demonstrated to us the breadth and richness of the Communion. It has been a privilege to be here together, to represent our dioceses and to grow in respect and affection for one another. With the many differences among us we have found ourselves profoundly connected with one another and committed to God’s mission. Many of us have experienced a real depth of fellowship in our Bible Study Groups and have been moved, sometimes to tears, by the stories our brothers and sisters have told us about the life of their churches, their communities and their own witness. For many bishops, especially those for whom this has been their first Lambeth Conference, they have understood for the first time what a precious thing it is we have in the Anglican Communion and indeed what it is to be an Anglican. There has been a wonderful spirit of dialogue and we want that to continue beyond the Conference by every means possible - ‘the indaba must go on,’ as one group expressed it. For many of us have discovered more fully why we need one another and the joy of being committed to one another. At a time when many in our global society are seeking just the sort of international community that we already have, we would be foolish to let such a gift fall apart.244 One of the difficulties of this new approach was how to crystallise the results of the debate - the Lambeth Design Group had been mindful that an account of the results of the Conference would also be eagerly expected in the Communion at large. As the Reflections Group was later to reiterate, the Communion needed an account of the Conference which would be: a. faithful to the Gospel. Our conversations mean nothing unless they further the business of the Kingdom of God, and reflect the Good News of Jesus Christ, offering a message of hope and faithfulness for the world. The Lord Jesus himself is the centre of our common life, and we gather in order to discern together his will for the Church. There has been a deep sense of the Holy Spirit moving among us. b. faithful to the process. In indaba we have had to make ourselves aware of challenges to life in communion without immediately trying to resolve them. We have met and conversed, ensuring that everyone has a voice in order to find the deeper convergences that might hold us together.

244 Lambeth Indaba, paragraph 3, ibid. CAMERON Lambeth Indaba 2008 367

c. faithful to the bishops and their context. It is important therefore that this document is one which reflects the conversations of all the bishops gathered for the Lambeth Conference. It must seek to honour the participation and contribution of every bishop, and be written in a process which is faithful to the contexts in which we minister. d. faithful to the Communion. We are all acutely aware that the Anglican Communion stands at an important point in its life. This document must be robust enough to describe realistically and honestly where the bishops of the Communion understand our life together to have come, and our resolve for the future.245 Considerable investment was therefore put into processes by which the discussions of the bishops could be captured. Each indaba group was provided with a theologically literate rapporteur, whose duty it was to provide a faithful account of the discussion in that group. Each group also nominated a listener from among their members, whose duty it was to carry the indaba into a central listeners’ group with the intention of producing a unified account of the discussion. This account has subsequently been published as ‘Lambeth Indaba’, a document of some fifty-five pages setting out the narrative of the discussions compiled by the listeners.246 It would be easy to misrepresent the status of this document. Although there were several open sessions where some provision was made for the wider conference to have some input into the content of the document, it remains essentially the account of seventeen people of what happened in the Lambeth Conference. The Lambeth Indaba document would be misused if it began to be represented as a sort of unofficial ‘resolutions’ handbook - the processes of the Conference mean that the Indaba Document can only carry the authority of its authors. But it is surely not without significance that the bishops nominted by their groups as listeners found it reasonably straightforward to write an account of the thinking of the bishops which demonstrates coherence, even consensus. Of twelve sections in the Indaba Document, nine of them give an account of the bishops speaking with a unified voice on important matters such as mission,

245 Lambeth Indaba, paragraph 18, ibid. 246 The full text of ‘Lambeth Indaba’ can be found at: accessed 28 Nov. 2008. 368 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 inter-faith relations and the ecumenical movement. It is only in two areas - on the Anglican covenant and the Windsor Process that a differentiated response was recorded, and only in the most controversial area of homosexuality where the listeners recorded a variety of attitudes and responses representing underlying divergence and disagreement. Ecumenical Method I believe that there is an ecumenical significance, however, that arises from the adoption of the indaba method at the 2008 Lambeth Conference. First, as a substantive change in the approach to assembly it is part of a wider sea change in the ecumenical world. It must surely be significant that the Lambeth Conference has moved away from parliamentary procedures and resolutions at the same time that Assemblies of the World Council of Churches have made a similar move. The 2006 Assembly of the World Council of Churches at Porto Alegre was notable for being the culmination of the process changes proposed in its life by the Special Commission on Orthodox Participation. This Commission had been working since 1999 to find ways of assisting the Orthodox Churches to recover confidence in the deliberations of the World Council. Orthodox voices had become increasingly critical of the parliamentary and majority methods of decision making that held sway in the World Council for fear that they would find themselves outnumbered, outvoted and apparently committed to positions or policies at variance to Orthodox faith and practice. Amongst the main findings of the Special Commission was the recommendation that the World Council move towards a consensus model of decision making. Not only would this address many of the concerns raised by the Orthodox, it was also believed to embody a more distinctly Christian approach to decision making. The Porto Alegre Assembly was the first real trial of the new method; all delegates being issued with orange and blue cards with which to signify warmth or coolness towards the ideas presented by speakers or platform. It was not an entirely comfortable experiment - it was all too easy to use the blue card signifying coolness to proposals to secure an invitation from the chair to speak on a particular matter - and sometimes the orange and blue cards were used in a manner which was little more than as voting cards - orange signifying CAMERON Lambeth Indaba 2008 369 acceptance and blue as a ‘no’ vote. Nevertheless, the World Council is growing into this new method of discernment, and expectations and enthusiasm for consensus decision making is running high - especially as people discover the more nuanced use of the cards to find ways of moving to a common mind on matters under discussion. A second instance of change in ecumenical method can be discerned in the life of ecumenism’s newest assembly - the Global Christian Forum. This Forum - or more correctly, this series of forums - was initiated in 1998 with the support of the World Council of Churches in an attempt to reach out to those Christian bodies and traditions which had historically stood apart from the ecumenical movement. The distinctive charism of the Global Christian Forums has been to adopt a method radically different to any of those widely used in the ecumenical movement up to the point of its inception. Whereas the World Council of Churches had brought the Churches of the oikumene together on an institutional level, and the bilateral dialogues had brought Christian World Communions together on a theological level, in what has been termed ‘the dialogue of truth’, the genius of the Global Christian Forum was to bring Christians together on an ‘affective’ level - inviting meetings to begin with an extended period of time where Christians were allowed to give their testimony; to speak of their encounter with Jesus and the pilgrimage of their discipleship. The vast majority of those who have become involved with the series of regional forums, which culminated in a truly ‘Global’ Christian Forum in Nairobi in November 2007 gave encouraging reports of these encounters as a fruitful method of engagement. Baptists could be deeply moved by the accounts given by Oriental Orthodox of how they came to commitment to Christ; Catholics impressed by the sacramental devotion of Methodists. Perhaps most significant of all, the Global Christian Forum was able to claim, with some justification, that the method, which allowed each participant to speak of the reality of Christ for them, had also facilitated the meeting of a broader cross section of the oikumene than had been gathered together before.247 I believe that Lambeth’s Indaba method therefore takes its place alongside these two other examples - the Consensus method adopted

247 The final statement of the Nairobi gathering may be found at: accessed 28 Nov. 2008 370 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 by the WCC, and the affective approach of the Global Christian Forum - as the first steps towards a paradigm shift for ecumenical engagement more generally. We are learning a distinctly Christian way of engagement with one another, founded on koinonia and on Christian principles of humility, patience, and the creation of space for the other. It is being manifested in different ways - through the adoption of more non-Western ways of encounter, such as indaba; through the recognition of the importance and graciousness of finding consensus, and an approach which engages not just intellect and argument, but also testimony to the life of the Spirit and an ‘affective’ engagement. Towards new ways of relating The real trick will be to allow these explorations into new ways of Christian collegial discernment to learn from and to feed one another. Can we be led into a way of engagement with one another which itself exemplifies the Gospel? These three new ways of engaging - Lambeth Indaba, WCC consensus decision making and the Global Christian Forum - highlight a number of principles which can be offered to the ecumenical movement as a whole - and to the world at large, as a witness in building communion and solidarity. The New Testament imagery of the body for the Church is well known, and does not need a fresh exposition from me here. But perhaps recent developments in method are uncovering ways of engaging which bear witness to that reality in a new and dynamic way; one which may help us to move beyond older forms of argument and confrontation into quiet ways of waiting upon each other and upon the Lord, and so edge us closer to being One in Christ.

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GROWING TOGETHER IN UNITY AND MISSION: AN AGREED STATEMENT OF THE INTERNATIONAL ANGLICAN-ROMAN CATHOLIC COMMISSION FOR UNITY AND MISSION, 2007

This short article is dedicated to the memory of Bishop David Beetge, the Anglican Co-Chairman of IARCCUM who died as this was being written. Bishop David, together with Archbishop John Bathersby, led the Commission with patience, humour and utter dedication to the reconciliation of Anglicans and Roman Catholics.

Mary Tanner∗

The bishops at the Lambeth Conference in 2008 had amongst the pack of materials that greeted them on their arrival in Canterbury the Agreed Statement of the International Anglican-Roman Catholic Commission for Unity and Mission – Growing Together in Unity and Mission (GTUM).248 This was appropriate since the Agreed Statement, published in 2007, was written by bishops for bishops and for bishops to share with their clergy and laity. Two sessions, open for any bishop to attend, were devoted to the introduction and study of the Agreed Statement. What follows is based upon two introductory talks given at the Self Select Sessions at Canterbury. The first tells the story lying behind GTUM, the second focuses on the intent and content of the Statement. The article ends with a plea to bishops to respond in their dioceses to the challenges of GTUM.

∗ Dame Mary Tanner served as the General Secretary of the Church of England's Council for Christian Unity from 1992-1998. She was a member of ARCIC II and IARCCUM as well as Moderator of the Faith and Order Commission of the World Council of Churches. She is currently one of the Presidents of the World Council of Churches and serves on the Anglican Communion's Windsor Continuation Group.

248 Growing Together in Unity and Mission: Building on 40 years of Anglican- Roman Catholic Dialogue. An Agreed Statement of the International Anglican- Roman Catholic Commission (London: SPCK, 2007). 372 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

1 ) The story of the International Anglican-Roman Catholic Commission for Unity and Mission (IARCCUM) The story of IARCCUM began in the heady days after Vatican II when in 1996 Archbishop Michael Ramsey made his historic visit to Pope Paul VI. Their meeting was a collision of hopes and dreams for the future re-union of the Roman Catholic Church and the Anglican Communion. The two leaders spoke in their Common Declaration of an intention to set up a theological dialogue and also to promote practical contacts and collaboration.249 Their idea for a twin track approach for deepening Anglican-Roman Catholic relations was subsequently filled out in greater detail by a small Preparatory Commission in the Malta Report.250 The Commission envisaged advances in doctrinal agreement and in lived relations going hand in hand, progressing in step like fashion. New stages of relatedness between the two Communions would be established and celebrated, at the highest degree of authority, on the basis of the agreements and convergences in faith reached through theological dialogue. Convergence in faith would be expressed in new forms of shared life, convergence in life. The first stage of phased rapprochement was seen to have already taken place in the meeting of the Pope and Archbishop with their acknowledgement of the high degree of shared faith that already exists. This they affirmed in the Common Declaration that they issued at the end of their meeting. It is interesting, nearly forty years later, to look back and see how they described the high degree of common faith and liturgical tradition that Anglicans and Roman Catholics shared. The theological conversations of the Anglican-Roman Catholic Commission (ARCIC) began in 1970: a number of national ARCS were set up simultaneously to guide and stimulate local co-operation, and work was done on mixed marriages. The theological conversations progressed with great speed, producing statements on the Eucharist, Ministry and Ordination, and Authority. The documents were prepared in conversation with the two Communions and Elucidations

249 ‘The Common Declaration by Pope Paul VI and the Archbishop of Canterbury, 1966’, in Anglicans and Roman Catholics: The Search for Unity, ed. C. Hill and E. Yarnold (London: SPCK/CTS, 1994), 10 and 11. 250 ‘The Malta Report’, in The Final Report of ARCIC (London: CTS/SPCK, 1981), 108-116. TANNER ‘Growing Together in Unity and Mission’ 373 were prepared to answer questions raised in the conversation. In 1982 the Agreed Statements, together with Elucidations, were published together in The Final Report of ARCIC which was introduced by a reflection on communion, koinonia.251 The Final Report was sent to the churches with two questions. The first asked whether the Agreed Statements, together with the Elucidations, were ‘consonant in substance’ with the faith of Anglicans/Catholics. The second asked what might be the next ‘concrete steps’ that Anglicans and Roman Catholics might take on the basis of the agreements. There was much study of the report in both Communions, often in joint study groups. A collation of responses from the churches of the Anglican Communion was prepared as a background document for the bishops coming to the Lambeth Conference in 1988. The bishops were ‘to articulate the mind of the Anglican Communion’ on the work of ARCIC. It was at this point in the story that the plot began to be lost and the original vision of Archbishop Michael Ramsey and Pope Paul VI, expressed in their Common Declaration, was forgotten: theological agreement and praxis became separated and both Communions concentrated on answering the doctrinal question, leaving aside the question about lived relations. We can speculate on why this was so. Perhaps there was some disappointment among Anglican bishops that there was no official response of the Roman Catholic Church on the table when the bishops came to formulate the Anglican response at the Lambeth Conference, only a preliminary, rather negative, reaction, in Observations from the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith.252 At the same time the matter of women and the episcopate, which was also on the agenda of the 1988 Lambeth Conference, was considered by some to have such negative implications for Anglican-Catholic relations that there was little possibility of making progress in lived relations, particularly on the two matters which concerned many lay people, namely eucharistic sharing and the recognition of ministries. The bishops at Lambeth 1988 concentrated almost exclusively in their response to the Final Report on the first of the two questions –

251 The Final Report of ARCIC. 252 ‘The Observations of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith on the Final Report of ARCIC (1982)’, in Anglicans and Roman Catholics: The Search for Unity. 374 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 the doctrinal question − and paid almost no attention to the question of praxis. A few responses from Roman Catholic Episcopal Conferences were placed in the public domain, but not all. When the Roman Catholic response was issued several years later, the same was true: theology and not praxis was the primary emphasis of its response also. Little thought was given about how to intensify relations in life and mission. ARCIC II was set up and so began another round of intensive and lengthy doctrinal conversations. Perhaps because of fatigue with the study of ecumenical documents there was no sustained conversation with the churches as the documents were prepared as there had been with ARCIC I. Agreed statements were produced on: Salvation and the Church (1987); Church as Communion (1991); Life in Christ: Morals Communion and the Church (1994); The Gift of Authority: Authority in then Church III (1999); Mary: Grace and Hope in Christ (2005). By this time many lay people had lost the enormous excitement and enthusiasm they had shown when they studied the work of ARCIC I. Hopes for eucharistic sharing, in particular, had evaporated. Then, in 2000 came a turn in events. Archbishop George Carey, together with Cardinal Edward Cassidy, with the blessing of John Paul II, called together thirteen pairs of bishops (many of them Primates and Heads of Episcopal Conferences) from around the world, from situations where Anglicans and Roman Catholics live in the same area. Some bishops came knowing one another and had clearly already worked closely together, others had hardly met one another before. The bishops gathered in a Roman Catholic retreat centre in Mississauga, Canada. They began with a time of retreat. In the days that followed they prayed together morning and evening, exchanged experiences of relations at home, reviewed together the fruits of the theological dialogue of ARCIC I and ARCIC II, together with the official responses that had been made by each Communion to the work of ARCIC I. They considered afresh the goal of the dialogue, reaffirming ‘full and visible unity’. On the basis of all of this the bishops looked to the future possibilities in Anglican-Roman Catholic relations. Where are we going, they asked one another? It was an extraordinarily moving and inspirational meeting. At the end of their time the bishops issued a short but bold statement - Communion in Mission, in which they said that even the things that divide Anglicans and Roman Catholics cannot be compared to all that unites them. TANNER ‘Growing Together in Unity and Mission’ 375

They were acutely aware, they said, of the particular vocation that bishops have in energising the work for Christian unity and leading in mission. It seemed that the baton was passing from the hands of the ARCIC theologians to the bishops as guardians of the faith, leaders in mission, and nurturers of unity. The bishops at Mississauga called for the setting up of a new Commission – a bishops’ Commission to oversee the preparation of a Joint Declaration to turn the theological convergence of the ARCIC conversations into action. So it seemed that the original vision expressed in the Common Declaration of Pope Paul VI and Archbishop Michael Ramsey, and developed in the work of the Preparatory Commission, was back on target.253 There was huge enthusiasm for the task among the bishops appointed to serve on an International Anglican-Roman Catholic Commission on Unity and Mission (IARCCUM). The Commission worked swiftly to prepare a Declaration in line with the hopes expressed at Mississauga. The Declaration would sum up the fruit of the thirty years of ARCIC theological conversation and set out honestly the remaining areas of difference in the context of the huge degree of agreed faith that the two Communions already share. On the basis of this agreement in faith the Commission would then offer suggestions of ways to move together in service and mission. What the bishops of IARCCUM envisaged when they first met was a Declaration that could be signed at the highest level in both churches and which, once signed, would lead into a new stage of rapprochement between the two Communions – a new stage of ‘evangelical koinonia’. Sadly, events in the Anglican Communion, following the 1998 Lambeth Conference, led to a halt being called in the work of IARCCUM. The Roman Catholic Church, understandably, began to ask questions of its partner in dialogue – you say these things about the Church, its structure, its discernment and coming to decisions, and then you act in ways that seem to contradict what has been said by us together in the agreed statements of ARCIC that we have formulated together. Little is known of the moving correspondence that ensued between the Archbishop of Canterbury and Cardinal Kasper, head of the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity. The request made

253 The papers and Statement from Mississauga were all published in One in Christ, vol. 39 no.1, January 2004. 376 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 by the Archbishop to the Cardinal to accompany Anglicans as they faced their difficulties arising from the consecration of Bishop Gene Robinson in the USA, resulted in a reply from the Cardinal indicating that there is no such thing as a unilateral action and showing a willingness to continue on the path to visible unity. What one Communion does necessarily affects what the other Communion does.254 The exchange resulted in the setting up of a small ad hoc sub commission of IARCCUM to review the events in the Anglican Communion against the template of the understanding in the ARCIC statements on authority and discernment in the communion of the Church, when a matter touches the faith, order or moral life of the church. After the conversations between the theologians and the publication of their report, as well as the publication of the Anglican Communion’s own response to the events in the Anglican Communion in the Windsor Report, IARCCUM was called together to complete its task. In 2004 Growing Together in Mission and Unity was published.255 Although the Statement was published, there was a definite change in its status and the intended purpose of the document. The Statement was no longer seen as a possible Common Declaration to be signed at the highest level of authority, a statement which would have the power to move the two Communions into a new stage of evangelical koinonia. But neither was it issued just as a study guide. It was published as an Agreed Statement of the bishops of the IARCCUM Commission and addressed by them to the bishops of both Communions. So, Growing Together in Mission and Unity is a document written by bishops for bishops, and for bishops to study and respond to with their clergy and people. As an episcopal document it is appropriate that it should have had a profile at Lambeth 2008 as one of three important ecumenical documents of the decade. The other two documents were: Called to be the One Church, a statement of the last Assembly of the World Council of Churches; and the recently

254 Letter of Cardinal Kasper to the Archbishop of Canterbury, 17 December 2004, reprinted in Information Service, 118 (2006/I-II), 38-39. 255 ‘Ecclesiological Reflections on the Current Situation in the Anglican Com- munion in the Light of ARCIC’, in Information Service, 119 (2005/III), 112-115. TANNER ‘Growing Together in Unity and Mission’ 377 published statement from the Anglican-Orthodox Dialogue, The Church of the Triune God. 2) Growing Together in Unity and Mission The story explains the rationale behind GTUM. The first part is a bold attempt to sum up the convergences of more than thirty years of doctrinal conversations in the work of ARCIC I and ARCIC II, under the headings of: God as Trinity; Church as communion in mission; Word of God; baptism; eucharist; ministry; authority in the Church; discipleship and holiness; and the Blessed Virgin Mary. In addition to summarising the consensus and convergence of the ARCIC conversations, the first part of the Agreed Statement identifies honestly a number of areas where differences still exist between Anglicans and Roman Catholics. Seven boxed paragraphs explore those differences in understanding the constitutive elements of the Church: approaches to eucharistic discipline; the validity of orders and the ordination of women; the exercise of authority in the Church - including questions about the exercise of a ministry of a universal primate; serious disagreements, in spite of our common moral foundations, on specific moral issues; and the Marian dogmas and the practice of devotion to Mary. Even taking into consideration these differences what is clear from Part I of GTUM is just how much faith Anglicans and Catholics hold in common, far more than divides them. The remaining differences are to be seen, evaluated and addressed in the context of the substantial agreement and in the context of the shared life we do already have. Much emphasis is placed in Part I on the importance of each Communion recognising the holy gifts and essential constitutive elements of Church in the other. As the Statement suggests, it is by discovering, through theological conversation, how much agreement there is between Anglicans and Roman Catholics about the essential elements of the Church’s life that we are given the confidence to look at one another and recognise ‘the holy gifts and constitutive elements’ of the Church of Christ in one another’s lives of faith and witness. Affirmation of our common faith is an essential step on the way to mutual recognition which makes possible, indeed obligatory, a common sharing in life and mission.

378 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

At the end of their summary of agreement in faith the bishops of IARCCUM say: Genuine faith is more than assent: it is expressed in action. As Anglicans and Roman Catholics seek to overcome the remaining obstacles to full visible unity, we, the bishops of IARCCUM, recognise that the extent of common faith described in this statement compels us to live and witness together more fully here and now. Agreement in faith must go beyond mere affirmation. Discerning a common faith challenges our churches to recognise that elements of sanctification and truth exist in each other’s ecclesial lives, and to develop those channels and practical expressions of co-operation by which a common life and mission may be generated and sustained.256 By bringing back into relationship doctrinal agreement and the outworking of it in shared life and mission the bishops were returning to the vision that had inspired Pope Paul VI and Archbishop Ramsey. And so the bishops urge Anglicans and Catholics to consider what practical suggestions for joint life and mission are appropriate now in their particular local context. For IARCCUM, as Monsignor Donald Bolen of the Pontifical Council for Christian Unity explained to the bishops at the Lambeth Conference, the link between seeking unity and engaging in mission is foundational to the whole project. Thus the second section of GTUM which deals with practical initiatives is not an accidental appendix, but constitutive of the Commission’s aim and purpose. GTUM states clearly that current tensions in our relations do not eclipse the need to ask how, and to what extent, we can take practical initiatives and give ecclesial expression to the degree of shared faith which has been reached. The practical suggestions made in GTUM cover four areas: visible expressions of shared faith; joint study of the faith; co-operation in ministry; shared witness in the world. In the area of seeking visible signs of shared faith the bishops emphasize that because Anglicans and Catholics recognise one another’s baptisms this already makes possible a number of practical initiatives: joint baptismal preparation, the production of common catechetical materials, regular public confession of shared baptismal faith, the renewal of baptismal promises, perhaps at Pentecost, the use of a common baptismal certificate, and, particularly in the case of inter-church families, inclusion of witnesses from other churches.

256 GTUM, 96. TANNER ‘Growing Together in Unity and Mission’ 379

Although our churches have different disciplines in regard to sharing the eucharist, attending each other’s eucharists can serve to make us aware of the degree of spiritual communion we do in fact share and thus strengthen our desire for full communion. Anglicans and Catholics should consider including in the prayers of the faithful a prayer for the Pope and for the Archbishop of Canterbury and indeed the leaders of all Christian churches. There are many non-eucharistic celebrations which can be shared, including pilgrimages, the celebration of each other’s feast days, the saying together of the daily office. In the area of visible expressions of joint faith both Communions recognise that the Scriptures are the primary source of authority which makes joint Bible study appropriate, particularly for those training for ordained ministry. Many clergy and laity of a second generation of ARCIC work know little about the agreed statements. Bishops should encourage joint study days on these documents in order to foster a greater appreciation of the substantial agreement shared between us and also those areas where differences remain. There is much misunderstanding on the part of Anglicans of positions held by Roman Catholics and similarly by Roman Catholics of those held by Anglicans In the area of co-operation in ministry GTUM points out that it is effective sign when bishops of both Communions are seen to meet together and work together in the local church and when bishops at the diocesan level act together, speak together and, where appropriate, issue joint pastoral statements. Attendance at one another’s collegial and synodical gatherings is another important witness and when issues of faith, order or moral life arise in one Communion consultation is crucial before decisions are taken. A range of initiatives at episcopal level is suggested in GTUM, including letters of introduction to ecumenical colleagues whenever a new bishop is elected, the association of Anglican bishops in ad limina visits, the establishment of agreed protocols for handling the movement of clergy from one Communion to another; an increased sharing in the formation of clergy; the exploration of new ways to affirm publicly the fruitfulness of one another’s ordained ministries even before the reconciliation of the two ministries. There is also a suggestion that consideration might be given to the challenge issued in The Gift of Authority to explore how the ministry of the bishop of 380 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Rome might be offered and received, even before full visible unity, in order to help our two Communions grow towards full ecclesial communion. Sharing ministry concerns not only the ordained ministry.257 Religious communities should be encouraged to continue along the way of sharing their heritage and vocations, joint training undertaken for lay ministries (for readers and evangelists) and shared study courses for laity in parishes. In the area of shared witness in the world so much more could be done together internationally and nationally to promote social justice, to eradicate poverty and to care for the environment. And in parts of the world where our Communions have contributed to the cause of division and strife then we should use every available means to show that reconciliation is possible. In the field of education churches are urged to consider the development of joint schools, shared teacher training and the production of outreach programmes especially for young people. Both Communions could learn together from new groups, movements and associations especially those with a special commitment to unity. In none of these four areas are the suggestions intended to be exclusive to Anglican and Catholic partnerships but, wherever appropriate, should be open to sharing with those of other traditions. The programme set out in GTUM is meant to be suggestive and encouraging, and not definitive. No single international report could address the specificity of every local context. Much depends upon local circumstances as well as already established relations. Nevertheless, different regions can often learn good practice from exploring the initiatives of others. There is so much more that could be done even if full eucharistic sharing is a step which cannot yet be taken from a Roman Catholic perspective. However, to put into practice what can be done may be a spur to reaching the time when there can be full eucharistic sharing. What is of great importance to the authors of GTUM is that bishops, the promoters of unity, should recognise their peculiar responsibility for guiding and inspiring the progress of Anglican-Roman Catholic relations. Each bishop should seek to do that with his, or her,

257 The Gift of Authority: Authority in the Church III. An Agreed Statement by the Second Anglican-Roman Catholic Commission ARCIC, (London and Canada: CTS and Toronto Book Centre, 1999). TANNER ‘Growing Together in Unity and Mission’ 381

Anglican or Roman Catholic colleagues. At the end of their Agreed Statement the bishops say: We the bishops of IARCCUM strongly commend these suggestions to members of the episcopate around the world, mindful of the specific responsibilities of bishops for promotion of Christian unity and the mission of the Church. We give thanks to God for the extensive theological consensus articulated in this document – fruits of the last forty years of dialogue − and we pray that God will richly bless all that we are now called to do in his Name. We call on all bishops to encourage their clergy and people to respond positively to this initiative, and to engage in a searching exploration of new possibilities for co-operation in mission. Some of the bishops at Lambeth shared joint initiatives that were already happening in their regions. It is to be hoped that every bishop returning from the Lambeth Conference will respond to the challenge of GTUM. One immediate example has been given by Archbishop Rowan Williams and Cardinal Walter Kasper in their recent shared visit to the Marian shrine at Lourdes. The explorations of the Marian dogma of the Immaculate Conception, in the light of Scripture and Tradition, in the work of ARCIC, opens up the possibility for Anglicans to re-discover Mary deep in Anglican tradition and to appreciate the centrality of Mary in Roman Catholic piety. Cardinal Cormac Murphy O’Connor, the Roman Catholic Co- Chairman of ARCIC II, posed a question in the title of an address he gave in the context of the presentation of the work of ARCIC at the Lambeth Conference: ‘Dead in the water or money in the bank?’ There is money – a lot of money in the Anglican-Roman Catholic theological bank. The question is how much of it will we spend now in intensifying Anglican-Catholic relations everywhere, in preparation for the time when we can fulfil God’s calling to us to make visible the unity of the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church? How much of the IARCCUM programme will we put in place now, and do our bishops have the will to take the lead?

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THE APOSTOLICITY OF THE CHURCH. STUDY DOCUMENT OF THE LUTHERAN-ROMAN CATHOLIC COMMISSION ON UNITY. Lutheran University Press, 2006, ISBN 978-1-932688-22-1, $20.

David Carter∗

The Lutheran-Roman Catholic international dialogue has carried on continuously since 1966, a record rivalled only by the near contemporary dialogues of the Roman Catholic Church with Anglicans and Methodists. It has been strongly backed by the US national Lutheran-Catholic dialogue, widely regarded as the most outstanding of all the many national bilateral ecumenical dialogues. Many of the American insights have been fed into the international dialogue. In addition to this, important ecclesiological work done by the Lutheran World Federation has also enriched the ongoing conversation which has been marked by the boldness of many of its propositions, particularly those made in the report, Facing Unity (1985).258 In this review, I intend, first, to give a brief résumé of the contents of the most recent production of the international commission, the study document on the apostolicity of the Church. Next, I will subject it to a critique, employing some insights from the parallel Roman Catholic– Methodist international dialogue. Finally, I shall point to some areas for further work, giving also some account of the critique to which the report was subjected at a recent seminar, held at the Lutheran Centre in London on 17 June 2008, under the auspices of the Lutheran Council of Great Britain and the Catholic Bishops’ Conference Office. First, however, a little more should be said about the general context. The ratification by both the Roman Catholic Church and the Lutheran World Federation of the Joint Declaration on Justification shone out as a unique achievement in the contemporary dialogue process between the Roman Catholic Church and other western

∗ David Carter is a Methodist local preacher who teaches for the Open University and Wesley College, Bristol. He is a member of the British Roman Catholic-Methodist Committee. 258 This report is cited in H. Meyer, J. Gros, and W. Rusch (eds), Growth in Agreement, Reports and Agreed Statements on Ecumenical Conversations at a World level, 1982-1998, vol 2 (Geneva, 2000), 443-484. CARTER ‘The Apostolicity of the Church’ 383 churches. It raised hopes, perhaps particularly within the Lutheran Communion, of much closer unity. For many Lutherans, in particular, it seemed as if the key issue had been resolved and agreement reached on the fundamental core of the Gospel which should now make communion in word and sacrament possible. For Roman Catholics, however, serious ecclesiological issues, relating to the degree of recognition that can be given to Lutheran ministers and the sacraments they celebrate, remain. It was thus inevitable that more ecclesiological work should be done. The US dialogue commission got off to a good start with its The Church as Koinonia of Salvation, Its Structure and Ministries (2004) and the LWF, in 2007, produced its statement on Episcopal Ministry within the Apostolicity of the Church, a document that takes seriously the value of episcopal ministry in historic succession and which calls for Lutherans to have a stronger sense and practice of episcopal collegiality. Both of these documents should be read alongside the main report on Apostolicity if one is to get an accurate impression of the ecclesiological status quaestionis in Lutheran-Catholic dialogue. It should be noted that the international Commission style their offering a ‘study document’, suggesting that further work is still needed on many issues, notwithstanding the fruitfulness of the very real degree of convergence to which they point and the appropriateness of the suggestions that they make. Content of the Report The Report is divided into four main sections, entitled respectively ‘The Apostolicity of the Church - New Testament Foundations’, ‘The Apostolic Gospel and the Apostolicity of the Church’, ‘Apostolic Succession and Ordained Ministry’ and finally, ‘Church Teaching that Remains in the Truth’, the last addressing what in some respects is the thorniest problem of all. The first section rehearses what in general is the widely accepted consensus of modern scholars across the confessional boundaries.259 The other three sections set out clearly traditional Roman Catholic and Lutheran teaching on the topics

259 Thus, the variety of ways in which the term apostle could be used in the various writings of the NT is duly recorded. It could variously mean witness to the resurrection, travelling missionary or be simply restricted to the original eleven surviving inner circle disciples of Jesus. 384 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 concerned with particular emphasis upon more modern developments, especially those that have allowed a degree of rapprochement. Continuing differences are recorded and faced. Little need be said about the first section. The role of the apostles is seen as both foundational and formative. ‘It implies a responsibility for setting a norm that may subsequently be further explored, developed and applied but not abandoned and distorted.’260 The apostle is both example and tradition bearer and successor ministries, understood as necessary, are bound to follow in the wake of this example. Succession to the apostles is not just a matter of continuity in function and office but also of manner of apostolic life. The contrasting Lutheran and Catholic emphases on the nature of apostolic ministry are reconciled in the following statement: In the New Testament, ‘apostolic succession’ takes place within the horizon of following Jesus Christ...Understood in this way ‘apostolic succession’ maintains the uniqueness proper to the ministry of the apostles while mediating it, within the horizon of following Jesus Christ, to an ongoing ministry for building up the Church on the foundation of Jesus Christ which the apostles once laid.261 The second section deals with the apostolicity of the Gospel and of the Church. Both churches accept that the other has retained the essential core of the Gospel and thus can be called apostolic but both have reservations about the full apostolicity of the partner. The Lutherans argue that the basic core of the Gospel on the eve of the Reformation was distorted in three ways, first, by making God’s favour dependent on good works, secondly by centring the Lord’s Supper on sacrifice designed to propitiate God (rather, presumably, than upon Christ’s self-gift to us in the Supper) and finally, by the papacy’s claim to the right to add new articles to the faith and impose practices binding in conscience. The Lutherans further contend that, at the Reformation, they correctly ‘reconfigured’ the central elements of the apostolic tradition, centring church life in Scripture and its exposition in preaching and re-emphasising the centrality of baptism and Eucharist and the ministry as an office of communicating the Gospel, thus allowing ‘the centre of the holy Gospel... forgiveness and salvation

260 Apostolicity, 25. 261 Ibid. 183. CARTER ‘The Apostolicity of the Church’ 385 given freely by God’s grace’ to stand out clearly again.262 They acknowledge that, at and since Vatican II, developments both in Roman Catholic thinking and in the joint dialogue have helped to narrow the gap between the two churches and, by implication, reduce the degree of distortion on the Roman Catholic side. Nevertheless, though they now acknowledge the basic apostolicity of the Roman Church, they still ‘find some doctrines and practices… in tension with this reality’, though these are not spelt out. In view of the progress made in the Lutheran-Catholic dialogue on both justification and Eucharist, one would imagine that the continuing reservations primarily involve the role of the magisterium in doctrinal definition as well as the continuing use of indulgences.263 In their response to the Lutheran position, the Roman Catholics stress that the apostolic legacy is much more than simply the ‘external word’ so strongly and traditionally emphasised by Lutherans. It is also interior, ‘planted by the Holy Spirit in the hearts of believers’. They argue that in the churches they founded, the apostles communicated the dona divina (divine gifts) by the ensemble of ‘the spoken word of their preaching, by the example they gave, by the institutions they established as they themselves had received.’ They argue that ‘the patrimony of the apostolic tradition is multifaceted and vital being closely linked with the corporate reality of the community.’ In sum, the apostolic tradition is a many sided depositum vitae (deposit of life).264 In a sub-section entitled ‘Diversity and its Reconciliation’ the Commission expresses a hope that it may be possible to reach a differentiated consensus on apostolicity, thus continuing the methodology so fruitfully employed in the Joint Declaration in respect of justification.265 It seems to me that such a consensus should be attainable if due respect is paid to the legitimacy of the two starting points outlined. A stronger pneumatology would undoubtedly help as it did in the original Joint Declaration where, according to Harding

262 Ibid. 142. 263 A matter which, at the turn of the millennium, also caused grave concern amongst Italian Methodists. 264 Apostolicity, 114-6. 265 Ibid. 135-8. 386 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Meyer, a key breakthrough came with the acknowledgment of the work of the Spirit in the hearts of believers. Since all ecumenical dialogues are necessarily interrelated, help might be sought from the insights alike of the Wesleyan tradition and the Roman Catholic-Methodist dialogue. In the latter, stress was placed on the fruitfulness of faith as the corollary of both faith as trusting confidence, fides qua creditur and faith as doctrinal content, fides quae creditur thus allowing both churches to discern in each other a legitimate development of the apostolic tradition in terms of later styles of devotion, service and theological expression which were consistent with the original deposit of faith.266 Consideration of Wesley’s comment on the life of the first church, sharing all things in common, may also help. How came they so to act, seeing that we know of no positive command so to do. I answer, there needed no outward command. The command was written upon their hearts and necessarily resulted from the degree of love which they enjoyed. Observe, they were of one heart and mind.267 Lutherans and Catholics must come to see their contrasting emphases as complementary rather than conflicting. There is no conflict between the Lutheran recall to the absolute centrality of the utter gratuitousness of the grace of God and the belief that there is no limit to the power of the Holy Spirit to save to the uttermost, the paradox being well expressed in the Methodist Covenant service where we ‘rejoice in the power of the Holy Spirit…Who waits to do for us exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think.’268 One final point from this section deserves comment and that is the Catholic statement in par. 122 that the apostolicity of the Lutheran Communion, though genuine, differs from that of the Catholic Church. This is explained in terms of the Roman Catholic recognition of the ‘many elements of truth and sanctification’ present in the Lutheran churches balanced by the lack of integration of these

266 See ‘The Word of Life: Report of the sixth quinquennium of the Roman Catholic-Methodist dialogue’, cited in Meyer et al (eds.), Growth in Agreement II, 618-646. 267 Wesley’s sermon ‘The Mystery of Iniquity’, cited in T. Jennings, Good News to the Poor (Nashville, 1990), 112. 268 Methodist Book of Offices (London, 1936), 125. CARTER ‘The Apostolicity of the Church’ 387 elements ‘by a united and collegial episcopal ministry in communion with the successor of Peter’ which ‘continues in a unique way the ministry of the apostles’. This takes us to the heart of one of the remaining issues at stake between the two communions. On the one hand, the LWF is a communion of churches that recognise the full apostolicity of each other despite the lack of a commonly structured ministry.269 On the other hand the Roman Catholic Church holds that the Church has a commonly structured shape of ministry from which it is not free to divert. It is true, of course, that Lutherans regard the office of the ministry as essential to the Church. They do not, however, believe that the threefold form which it generally took between the second century and the Reformation is unalterable. Indeed, many German Lutherans maintain that at the Reformation they were faced with a choice between loyalty to the Gospel and maintaining the historic episcopate and that it was necessary, in those circumstances, to abandon the historic episcopate even though they do not impugn the reasonableness of its maintenance in such countries as Sweden and England where many of the bishops sided with the Reformation. For Lutherans, the fact that churches with different structures of the one common ministry of the Gospel have been able to maintain the same essential faith and sacraments is proof that the actual structure of that ministry is an adiaphoron, a matter on which churches may legitimately differ. This leads us naturally into a consideration of the third section, ‘Apostolic Succession and Ordained Ministry’. Two key points are at issue in this section, the first being whether there can be any differentiated consensus concerning the one ministry of the Gospel

269 This is a point which Tom Bruch, secretary of the Lutheran Council, has frequently expressed in ecumenical conversations. Some Lutheran churches have maintained bishops in historic succession, the Church of Sweden being the most prominent example. Some have recovered the succession, the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America currently being in the process of so doing. Some e.g. the EKD (Evangelical Church of Germany) have an episcopate which is not in the historic succession and which operates within a synodical context. Some other Lutheran churches have a Presbyterian style polity or are even congregationalist, but they all accept the teaching of the seventh article of the Augsburg Confession that it is sufficient that the Word is purely preached and the gospel sacraments duly administered. 388 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 and the possibility of its being differently, but in both cases validly, structured within the two communions. The second question relates to the extent to which the Roman Catholic Church can now recognise the authenticity of the Lutheran ministry, a point that has already received extensive discussion within the US dialogue. Traditionally, Lutherans have been suspicious of any concept of a ministerial priesthood in any way differentiated from that of the priesthood in Christ common to all the faithful. Contrariwise, the Roman Catholic Church stressed at Vatican II that the priesthood of bishops and presbyters is not just an extension of the common priesthood but differs from it in kind albeit that the two priesthoods are related to each other. Par. 167 approaches the issue by saying that as hearers and recipients of the Gospel all are equal but that as co- workers some are specially called to the ordained ministry. Section 3.3 of the report, drawing heavily on work already carried out within the American dialogue, examines the common heritage of the two churches from the patristic era and the Middle Ages. It accepts that there was then a strong current of opinion that the orders of presbyter and bishop were essentially the same, distinguished only by the wider jurisdiction assigned to bishops. It mentions occasional pre-Reformation examples of ordinations to the presbyterate being carried out by presbyters, thus calling into question the assumption that the orders conferred by presbyters siding with the reformers were thereby necessarily invalid.270 Section 3.4 examines in close detail the understanding of ordained ministry among both the Lutheran reformers and the fathers of the Council of Trent. Melanchthon, at least, recognised that the emergence of a regional ministry of oversight of ordinary presbyters and their parishes had been an essential development. In passing, we may also note that the US dialogue has set out the practical similarities between Lutheran and Catholic ordering of the Church at local and regional levels.271 The Catholics point to the Tridentine

270 Of course, ordinations carried out even by reforming bishops, as in England and Sweden, were usually held invalid on the grounds that their understanding of the presbyterate and the episcopate was not that of the Catholic Church and that there was thus a defect of intention on the part of the bishops concerned. 271 Koinonia of Salvation, part 1, section 2. CARTER ‘The Apostolicity of the Church’ 389 statement that the structure of the ministry is determined by ‘divine appointment’ (divina ordinatione) rather than ‘divine right’ (iure divina) as implying that one ‘cannot exclude a degree of historical contingency’ in its development.272 Discussion of more recent developments both within the separate communions and within the various levels of their mutual dialogue reveals a narrowing of the gap between them. Lutherans now recognise that a particular ministry is required in order that the general priesthood of all the faithful may be realised in everyday life. It is clear that Lutherans ascribe at least a degree of sacramentality to ordination which is defined both as prayer for the Holy Spirit and as involving the reliable promise of the Spirit. It is also stressed that ordination is for service in the whole Church, is for life and that a bishop is its normal minister.273 Lutherans accept that regional ministers are required as focal enablers of communion. They recognise a challenge to develop episcopal collegiality at the level of the global communion. They recognise that the historic episcopate is a sign but not a guarantee of apostolicity.274 From their side, the Roman Catholics emphasise the positive aspects of the teaching of Vatican II on the royal priesthood of all the faithful. They also stress that the roles of preaching, leadership and eucharistic presidency are ascribed to bishops and priests alike, thus bringing Roman Catholics closer to the Lutheran emphasis upon the one ministry as involving a bundle of duties. A curious statement is made in par. 283 to the effect that ‘it is also Catholic doctrine that in Lutheran churches the sign of ordination is not fully present because those who ordain do not act in communion with the catholic episcopal college’ - a statement that would appear to deny the validity of the orders of the Orthodox and Oriental Orthodox churches. One imagines this was an unintentional oversight.

272 Apostolicity, 230. In light of the fact that ARCIC also argues for the providentially guided evolution of the threefold ministry rather than its direct appojntment by Christ, one wonders what room this may yet leave for re- evualation. 273 Ibid. 255, 261, 267. 274 Ibid. 262, 268, 269. The report cites the Porvoo Agreement on apostolicity and the episcopate between the British and Irish Anglican churches and several Scandinavian and Baltic Lutheran churches. 390 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

In the final part of this section of the report, there is agreement that ‘the Catholic view of the ministry of the Lutheran churches, along with the Lutheran view of ministry in the Catholic Church, cannot remain untouched by the Joint Declaration since its signing implies that the key task of maintaining fidelity to the core of apostolic teaching is carried out by the ordained ministry in both churches’.275 It is suggested that there might be room for a differentiated consensus that differing structures of ministry can both manifest faithfulness to the teaching of the same gospel.276 The final and longest section of the report deals with ‘Church Teaching that Remains in the Truth’. The approaches of the Church up to the Reformation to the issues of biblical canon, interpretation and teaching authority are examined and the point made that it was only in reaction to the teaching of Wycliff that the novelty emerged of deriving the authority of Scripture from the Church which fixed the canon. The Roman Catholic section of this part of the report stresses that Catholics accept ‘the inherent power of the biblical word to impose itself on us as norm and guide’. It also stresses that the magisterium does not judge Scripture per se, only human interpretations of it. The Catholics accept that they are reticent about the Protestant idea of Scripture interpreting itself. The importance of the sensus fidelium as the backdrop to all magisterial teaching is strongly emphasised. ‘The people unfailingly adhere to this faith, penetrate it more deeply through right judgement and apply it more fully to daily life.’277 Both churches agree that Scripture was written from within a process of Tradition and is orientated towards a process of being interpreted in the context of ecclesial tradition. Their differently nuanced views of Tradition are compared. The Catholics claim that the traditions they receive do not float free from biblical moorings. Lutherans accept traditions which are edifying and do not conflict with the word of God, though they must not be imposed as necessary.278

275 Apostolicity, 288. 276 Ibid. 292,293. 277 Ibid. 420. 278 Ibid. 442. The Lutherans add that they do accept the creeds as binding since they are so securely grounded in Scripture. CARTER ‘The Apostolicity of the Church’ 391

Finally, it is agreed that the teaching office is essential to the Church. It is differently configured in the two traditions. Lutherans accept that more emphasis is needed upon a super-regional teaching office. Both churches accept that ‘there is a network of several instances of witness to God’s word which constitutes the essential context within which those exercising the teaching office must carry out their responsibilities.’279 Critique of the Study Document This document is a considerable achievement and should fulfil its aim of informing the members of both communions of the degree of progress made thus far in dialogue on the questions raised. It is clear that important work remains to be done. There seem to be two key challenges that should now be faced, one for each communion. For the Lutherans, there is the challenge of re-reception of the sign of episcopal succession, already of course possessed or more recently re- received by a considerable proportion of the Lutheran Communion. For some Lutherans, this would be a hard decision. During the seminar, Ven. John Arnold280 pointed out that for many German Lutherans, the image of bishop is still that of the medieval prince- bishop who refused the Reformation. Against this, one has to say that the time comes in the ecumenical life of all churches when unhelpful stereotypes from the past have to be abandoned as part of the process of repentance and reconciliation. It might be usefully argued that, just as it was once necessary for the German Lutheran Church to abandon the episcopal succession out of loyalty to the greater truth of the Gospel, so now, in the interests of the greater unity of the Church, also a gospel imperative, it is necessary, in humility and gratitude, to re- receive that sign.

279 Ibid. 457. It is worth noting the Catholic point that the magisterium does not attribute to itself a monopoly in interpretation of Scripture but has regard for other sources, including the witness of the fathers, of the liturgies, of the saints of the past, of the consensus fidelium and, in the modern world, the work of expert exegetes and other relevant scholars. It is interesting to compare this with the sources listed by the Anglican bishops at the Lambeth Conference of 1948. 280 Emeritus Dean of Durham and a person who has played a key role in the development of Anglican-Lutheran relationships. 392 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

To Roman Catholics comes the challenge of finding new ways of acting upon their discernment of the true apostolicity of the Lutheran churches (and, indeed, other reformation churches since the issues at stake are similar). A broader pneumatology may help here. The late Pope John Paul II stressed the way in which the Holy Spirit makes surprising discoveries possible. Lukan pneumatology in Acts shows the Spirit as constantly moving the Church on, opening the eyes of its leaders to new discoveries and perceptions. One can develop from this, as did the Wesleyan ecclesiologist Benjamin Gregory, a theology of an apostolic duty of recognition and connection.281 One might even argue that it is a particular duty of the See of Rome to lead the Church in such recognition, a point made by the late Jean-Marie Tillard in his assertion that the Pauline element in the Roman church ‘attests the unforeseeable action of God’.282 Relevant here is the observation made by Burkhard in his book Apostolicity, Then and Now, that both Irenaeus and Tertullian regarded the apostolicity of a church as dependent not upon a local episcopal succession as such but on the congruity of its faith with one of the norm churches of definite apostolic foundation.283 This would seem to imply that if Rome can recognise the faith of another church as congruent with its own, there should be no barrier to an acceptance of its full churchly status. Such an acceptance would then put the mutual recognition of ministries in a new light. It is possible that the churches might follow the suggestion made in the context of the international Roman Catholic-Methodist dialogue, addressing the same issue, that it would involve a ‘fresh creative act of reconciliation which acknowledges the manifold yet unified activity of the Holy Sprit throughout the ages’.284 Turning to particular questions raised within the document, we note the contrasting emphases within the section entitled ‘Apostolic Gospel and Apostolic Church’. For Lutherans, the key elements of apostolicity had to be reconfigured at the Reformation in order to allow the Gospel of God’s free grace to stand out unambiguously. The Roman Catholics,

281 B. Gregory, The Holy Catholic Church (London, 1873) 50. 282 J.-M. Tillard, L’Eglise Locale (Paris, 1995), 540. 283 See J.J. Burkhard, Apostolicity then and now: an ecumenical church in a postmodern world (Collegeville, 2004). 284 The Grace Given You in Christ, 2006, 144. CARTER ‘The Apostolicity of the Church’ 393 while in one sense acknowledging this as the core of the Gospel, want to stress that the Gospel also includes the interior word ‘planted by the Holy Spirit in the hearts of believers’. To them the apostolic deposit of faith includes ‘everything that serves to make the people of God live their lives in holiness and increase their faith’.285 The gospel promise includes the call to and hope of real holiness as the gift of the Spirit. This is an issue on which Methodists, while heartily endorsing the Lutheran emphasis upon the free grace of God, accept with Roman Catholics that there is a further promise and that those who are freely justified by faith are called then to ‘press on to full salvation’ in terms of Christian holiness. I would also add that it is strange that, in this context, the recent interesting work of Finnish Lutherans on Luther’s understanding of Christian holiness is not mentioned in the study document.286 We have already recorded the fact that Lutherans have reservations about imposing any practices that are not clearly biblical. It may be that here, the conversation would be helped by use of the Wesleyan distinction between the ‘instituted’ and ‘prudential’ means of grace, the former being those commended directly in Scripture, that is to say the reading and hearing of the Word, prayer and the sacraments, and the latter those developed subsequently and lacking direct biblical warrant but of proven worth in developing growth in grace such as the love feasts, class meetings and Covenant services of early Methodism. Lutherans might then be able to acknowledge the proven value for Catholics of such later Catholic devotions as the Stations of the Cross, the rosary and certain forms of Marian devotion. Lutherans could then open themselves to their exploration whilst Catholics would commend them to Lutherans without feeling it necessary to insist on their adoption by them. I have already touched on the relevance of the Catholic-Methodist dialogue in this respect.287 One final point to note in this section is the absence of any real discussion of the Petrine ministry, particularly as witnessed to in so many strands of the New Testament. It is true, of course, that all the

285 Apostolicity, 114-6 as already cited. 286 Developed partly in dialogue with the Orthodox. See e.g. C.E. Braaten and R.W. Jenson (eds.), Union with Christ: The New Finnish Interpretation of Luther (Grand Rapids, 1998). 287 See above p. 385, n. 3. 394 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 churches not in communion with Rome continue to harbour deep reservations over the way in which the papacy developed in the second millennium. That should not, however, inhibit either Lutherans or others from trying to discern what is and could be genuinely of the gospel in such a ministry, being encouraged not just by the pattern of Peter’s leadership as recorded in Scripture but also by the very acceptable elements in the ministry of such great pontiffs as John XXIII, with his bold and visionary summoning of the Council and the late John Paul II with his tireless travelling and commitment to ecumenism and inter-faith relationships. As we have seen, the document mentions the importance of regional ministries of episcope; it would seem odd then not to envisage a global ministry of confirming the brethren. To search for a more biblically based and reformed petrine ministry would seem to respond to the call of John Paul II in Ut Unum Sint and to respond to Luther’s statement that he would gladly embrace the Pope if only he would receive the Gospel. On the question of apostolic succession in ordained ministry, there remain serious problems. An earlier report, Facing Unity, stated that the problem could not be solved by a simple act of mutual recognition. ‘The lack of sacrament of orders cannot be annulled solely by ecclesiastical agreements or canonical acts e.g. in recognising these ministries. What is needed ultimately is sharing in the historic ministry.’288 Harding Meyer has advocated what he calls a differentiated participation in the historic episcopate, that is to say, a sharing in the office whilst allowing nuanced theological evaluations of it, something which, of course, has long been Anglican practice with theologians in that communion differing as to whether they see episcopacy as being of the esse of the Church or only the bene esse.289 The American report, The Church as Koinonia of Salvation addresses the question rather more directly and it is perhaps strange that its suggestions are not taken up and discussed in the Study Document. The key point is made that, at Vatican II, the orders of the reformation churches and the sacraments administered by their ministers were not condemned as utterly invalid in the manner that had characterised

288 Growth in Agreement, 466-7. 289 H. Meyer, ‘Differentiated Participation: The Possibility of Protestant Sharing in the Historic Office of Bishop’, Ecumenical Trends (October, 2005), 9-16. CARTER ‘The Apostolicity of the Church’ 395 the previous era. Rather it was merely said that they had not preserved the genuine and total reality of the eucharistic mystery on account of the defectus in their ordination. The Americans suggested that this term should be translated as ‘deficiency’ rather than ‘complete absence’. We may note also that when the Vatican Decree uses this language it goes on to make the positive statement that ‘when they commemorate the Lord’s death and resurrection in the Holy Supper, they profess that it signifies life in communion with Christ and they await his coming in glory’.290 The Americans go on to suggest that, on the understanding that the catholicity of any church is impaired by lack of communion with others, the two churches should consider a partial mutual recognition of ministries. Interestingly, they cite a letter from the present Pope, then Cardinal Ratzinger, to the Lutheran Bishop of Bavaria in 1993. I count among the most important results of the ecumenical dialogue the insight that the issue of the eucharist cannot be narrowed to the problem of validity. Even a theology orientated to the concept of succession, such as that which holds in the Catholic and Orthodox Church, need not in any way deny the salvation-granting presence of the Lord in a Lutheran Lord’s Supper.291 In the light of this one may ask, granted its ‘salvific efficacy’, what distinction there can be between such a Lord’s Supper and the eucharist of the Universal Church as understood in the Roman Catholic tradition? Roman Catholics might also ponder a recent relevant statement from an Orthodox source. After encountering in an Albanian Baptist community the same trinitarian faith that he himself professed, Bishop Kallistos Ware mused on the possibility that true apostolicity might be preserved through structures very different from those maintained in the Orthodox Church.292 One might also ask whether the current emphasis upon the epiclesis in sacramental consecration affects any re-evaluation of the issues of sacramental validity. There may be such a thing as an irregularly administered sacrament but can there be an ‘invalid’ invocation of the Holy Spirit? Clearly, much more work remains to be done on these issues.

290 Decree on Ecumenism, 22. 291 Cited in The Church as Koinonia of Salvation, 107. 292 C. Davey (ed.), Returning Pilgrims (Churches Together, 1994), 30. 396 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Where teaching authority is concerned, there are two issues on which one might have expected more discussion. The report refers to the Antiochian stress on the primacy of the literal interpretation of the word of God, but little is said about the typological exegesis which has been so important in some doctrinal development within the Roman Catholic tradition, most notably in mariology. For example, the hermeneutical process by which Ezek. 44:2 is interpreted as a proof text for the doctrines of the perpetual virginity and the immaculate Conception needs addressing. A further not unrelated issue is the continuing validity of doctrinal definitions made in times of separation. Many Roman Catholic scholars already make a distinction between the authority attributable to the doctrinal definitions of the early Church and those that were made after the great schism of 1054. No less a person than the present Pope is on record as having said that, in the event of reunion, the Orthodox would only have to accept as binding doctrinal definitions preceding the schism. The question of whether doctrines can be proclaimed as a result of the development of popular piety within one communion alone rather than as the result of an urgent need to exclude error threatening the fundamentals of the faith also needs exploring. This would affect the status of the Marian doctrines of 1854 and 1950 which were finally proclaimed, at least in part, as a result of popular pressure within the Roman Catholic Church.293 Discussion at the seminar In the course of discussion, Bishop Paul Hendricks, auxiliary Bishop of Southwark, and Revd Tom Bruch, secretary of the Lutheran Council, produced papers in response to the original briefing paper on the Study Document circulated by myself. Paul Hendricks felt that the report tended to concentrate on the easier question of reconciling the positive statements of the two churches and to say less about some of the more restrictive ones such as ‘scripture alone’ where agreement would be more difficult. He accepted that sometimes the Roman Catholic Church seemed too cautious in extending recognition to others but argued that it was

293 Within recent times, there have indeed been Roman Catholic groups calling for the proclamation of new doctrines such as those of the co- redemption of Mary and Mary, mediatrix of all graces. CARTER ‘The Apostolicity of the Church’ 397 always anxious to safeguard adequately the faith that had been handed down through the ages. He accepted that there was indeed a joyful duty on the part of the bishops of the Catholic Church to recognise the apostolicity of life of other Christian communities to the precise extent to which it could be discerned. Bishop Paul felt that the document tended to contradict itself on the question of the clarity of Scripture, arguing that it could speak for itself and yet admitting that there were obscure passages within it. The Lutheran (and, indeed, general Protestant) response to this is to say that the key essential doctrines are made clear and that the less clear passages relate to doctrines on which it is not necessary for there to be full agreement. Bishop Paul felt the authority of the magisterium should be emphasised as being rather stronger than was allowed in the Study Document or in David Carter’s commentary, both of which seemed to regard its authority as co-ordinate with several other sources. The magisterium would certainly have regard to these other sources but would still want to see its definitions as more authoritative. He accepted though the immense importance of the sensus fidelium and argued that if the definitions of the magisterium failed to find an echo in the faith of the Church and call forth assent, they could not be accepted as infallible.294 Tom Bruch in his paper noted the increasing degree of convergence between Roman Catholics and Lutherans which had marked the previous forty years, giving both communions a strong sense of ‘family feeling’ and desire to explore further together. A major advance had been made with the Joint Declaration on Justification and progress had also been made in the understanding of the eucharist. He noted the degree of conditionality in both churches’ recognition of each other’s apostolicity, the Lutherans noting that some Roman Catholic practices are in tension with the apostolicity that Lutherans recognise in the Catholic Church and Roman Catholics feeling that a church cannot be fully apostolic without the historic episcopal succession and papal primacy. The Lutheran case against this Roman Catholic position is summed up thus: If the gospel is ‘central and decisive in the apostolic heritage’ and the gospel has been effectively proclaimed by churches without the elements of historical apostolic succession and papal

294 In this last point, Bishop Paul appealed to Apostolicity, 426. 398 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 primacy, then what are the grounds for holding those elements to be integral to apostolicity? Tom Bruch also questioned the withholding of sacramental hospitality from baptised sisters and brothers who proclaim the apostolic faith. He further questioned ‘if a Lutheran Lord’s Supper can offer the “salvation-granting presence of the Lord”, what part of the eucharistic mystery is then lacking?’ The three formal papers were followed by lively discussion. One Lutheran speaker felt that the text had rather skated over the distinction between law and gospel that was so fundamental in Lutheran thinking. There was considerable discussion of the fact that the Study Document had scarcely touched upon the current ecumenically controversial question of the ordination of women. Some would argue that since the same participation in the royal priesthood of all the faithful is given to men and women alike, both sexes can be legitimately called to ordained ministry. It was, however, pointed out that 33 out of the 140 member churches of the LWF do not ordain women on the grounds that such a practice would not be biblical. John Arnold raised key questions relating to the understanding of tradition and the qualifications for the exercise of the magisterium. He stressed the importance for both Lutherans and Anglicans of the satis est (it is sufficient) of the Augsburg Confession but also stressed that the ecumenical quest is a search for fullness and that both churches would much prefer to have the fullness of the Tradition. He commented on the last line of par. 452 of the report with its view that the magisterium is essentially based on a charism bestowed in episcopal ordination, a view that he felt ‘semi-magical’ if applied to individuals. It would have read better if the authority of magisterium had only been attributed to the corporate body. Bishop Paul mentioned the problems created by the development of creeping infallibility with lower level decisions being given more authority subsequently from above. He also felt more should have been said about the very complex and contested history of the theology of order in the Catholic Church. John Arnold argued that there had been a shift within the Roman Catholic Church in recent years from stressing the collective teaching authority of the bishops to stressing their role as a transmission belt of Vatican teaching. Billy Steele stressed that the term magisterium had originally been used of the general teaching CARTER ‘The Apostolicity of the Church’ 399 office of theologians rather than being used in a specialised manner of a supreme teaching authority vested in the papacy and its officials, the emphasis on the latter having really only developed from the late nineteenth century. Warm thanks are due to Tom Bruch and Andrew Faley for their initiative in sponsoring this seminar and thus aiding the reception process within Britain of a document that could so easily have escaped attention here. 400 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

REPORTS & EVENTS

FORTY YEARS OF INTERCHURCH FAMILIES

Ruth Reardon*

The British Association of Interchurch Families celebrated its fortieth anniversary at The Hayes conference centre in Swanwick, Derbyshire over the Bank Holiday weekend, 23-25 August 2008. Forty years earlier, in November 1968, the first national conference for mixed marriage couples had gathered at Spode House, the Dominican conference centre in Staffordshire. It was at that first meeting that the term ‘interchurch marriages’ was coined, to distinguish couples where a Roman Catholic is married to a Christian of another communion and both are committed to their respective churches, from other kinds of mixed marriages. The term has gained acceptance in many parts of the English-speaking world. The Second Vatican Council had brought the Roman Catholic Church into the ecumenical movement. Pope John XXIII created a Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity early in the preparatory period, observers from other Christian churches were invited to the Council and treated as honoured guests, and the conciliar Decree on Ecumenism was promulgated in 1964. Inevitably the attitude of the Catholic Church to mixed marriages would have to change. In 1963 Dr Visser ’t Hooft, General Secretary of the World Council of Churches, called mixed marriages and religious liberty test cases of the reality and depth of Catholic commitment to Christian unity. The conciliar Declaration on Religious Liberty was agreed in 1965, and the council fathers debated mixed marriages during the final session, but ran out of time and voted that the practical outcome should be left to the Pope. What was clear was that change was inevitable; in the light of

* Ruth Reardon was co-editor of One in Christ under her maiden name of Slade between 1965 and 1975. She was a founder-member of the Association of Interchurch Families, together with her husband Martin Reardon, an Anglican priest, in 1968. She was Secretary of the Association from 1968-2000, and edited the journal Interchurch Families from 1993-2004; she is now a President of the Association. REPORTS & EVENTS 401

Vatican II no longer could the Catholic partner be exhorted to ‘convert’ the other, nor the other partner be made to promise not to ‘pervert’ the Catholic’s faith and practice. No longer could both partners be required to promise that all the children of the marriage should be baptised and brought up as Catholics. The Eastern Churches Quarterly changed its name to One in Christ in 1965, marking the fact that it was concerned not only with Catholic relations with eastern churches but also with general ecumenism. Spiritual ecumenism and pastoral questions were given particular importance. Even before this the ECQ had shown itself concerned with Anglican-Catholic marriages by publishing a dialogue on the subject between Martin Reardon and Fr Henry St John OP in the spring of 1964. The latter raised as a possibility, in cases where both partners were practising, ‘educating some of the children in the Catholic faith and others in that of the non-Catholic parent’. But a much bolder proposal was put forward in an editorial in One in Christ four years later (no.2, 1968). Here the suggestion was that in some cases it might be possible for parents in a mixed marriage to bring up their children within both their churches, and the children might not need to opt for one or the other until they left home. Responses to the proposal were requested. In the meantime One in Christ had been reporting on the dialogues on mixed marriages that had begun between the Roman Catholic Church and other churches. These had taken place both in the Joint Working Group with the World Council of Churches, and in bilaterals with Methodists and Anglicans, and more locally in a Catholic/Reformed colloquium in the USA. It had published the text of the Instruction Matrimonii Sacramentum, issued by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith in 1966, and compared it with both the 1917 Canon Law and with the conciliar Votum on mixed marriages. It had studied the way in which the Instruction was being applied in France and in other continental countries, and this was important, as it seemed to be ignored in England. New things were happening elsewhere. There were dispensations for mixed marriages where no promise was made by the non-Catholic partner about the Catholic upbringing of the children, and simply a promise ‘to do what was possible’ by the Catholic. There were weddings in the other partner’s church, weddings in the context of Mass at which the other 402 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Christian partner could receive communion, and joint pastoral care of mixed marriages. But nothing of the kind was happening in England. This was the climate in which the first Spode meeting took place. The idea of mixed marriage couples getting together came from a Congregational husband who had not spoken to his wife for a week after their baby was baptized in the Roman Catholic Church. His minister referred them to a mixed couple he had heard of: Martin and Ruth Reardon. Martin knew of many cases of difficulty over the promise on the Anglican side, as a member of the Archbishop of Canterbury’s Commission on Roman Catholic relations. I had been trying hard as a member of the Roman Catholic Ecumenical Commission for England and Wales to work for implementation of the 1966 Instruction in England, together with the Secretary, Fr John Coventry, SJ. (The episcopal chair said it was impossible that Catholics would ever be allowed to bring up their children in a non-Catholic church.) We had at Spode 68 a Catholic girl who had married an Anglican priest earlier in the year in an Anglican church because they could not make the promise. They had tried hard to get a dispensation, and since the wedding they had been trying to get a convalidation, but the condition remained that the promise must be made. She had not been able to receive communion for months. But we also had at Spode an Anglican husband who had been given communion in Italy when he married an Italian girl the year before. I think that all the future developments in the Association of Interchurch Families over the next 40 years were there in embryo at Spode 68. There was the sheer liberation of finding that there were other couples like ourselves – so many had felt isolated, treated as oddities by Catholic clergy if the non-Catholic partner in the marriage was practising in another church. I remember John Coventry’s big smile on the first evening when he said: ‘They’re so pleased to meet one another – we must do this again.’ There has been an annual conference ever since, moving to Swanwick in 1987 when Spode House closed. We formed an association for mutual support in 1969, and in 1970 we set up the first area groups, in London, Liverpool and Sheffield. Later we became a support network that could offer information to couples and clergy far beyond our own membership. In the 90s we moved our headquarters out of a private home into an office in London, where we patiently collected papers on different REPORTS & EVENTS 403 topics into packs that we could dispatch to enquirers – now of course we can use the internet. Then, there were the canonical questions and how we were going to deal with them, and the underlying issues of conscience and authority which came to have great importance for interchurch families. The question of getting married and the promise dominated Spode 68. John Coventry gave a learned account of how the 1966 Instruction was being applied by some of the bishops in other countries of Europe. In 1970 the papal motu proprio Matrimonia Mixta used the experience gained from the 1966 Instruction to extend to the whole Roman Catholic Church the practice of asking only a qualified assurance from the Catholic partner about the Catholic baptism and upbringing of the children (to do all they could). No promise was asked from the other partner. This was an enormous change, absolutely crucial for interchurch families. Dispensations from canonical form could be given for the wedding to take place in the church of the non-Catholic partner, and there was provision for weddings to take place in the context of Mass. One in Christ studied the different ways in which Matrimonia Mixta was applied in different countries. A very important question raised at Spode 68 was that of the upbringing of children in both churches as suggested in the One in Christ editorial of spring 1968, and the underlying issue of double belonging for the whole family. We did not then have the benefit of the responses to the editorial that were later printed in One in Christ. However, at Spode 68 a Catholic sister who was a child psychologist envisaged no psychological problems for the children provided the parents were fully united in their approach – and startled us by suggesting that the children might never need to choose between the churches. And whereas the changes to the promise made in the motu proprio of 1970 envisaged cases in which the children would not be brought up in the Roman Catholic Church but in another church, Matrimonia Mixta could actually be used as a basis for dual upbringing. If the Catholic had to do all possible for the baptism and upbringing of the children in his or her own church, well so in conscience did the other partner – and they could do it together, and not in opposition. In the forty years since then we have garnered the reflections of young adults who have had the experience of dual upbringing. They have discovered it to be enriching rather than confusing. 404 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

At Spode 68 we had a Bible study on marriage as a covenant relationship, reflecting the love of God for his people, of Christ for his church. It moved right through from the ‘one flesh’ of Genesis to the marriage supper of the Lamb in Revelation. One family put their talk on family prayers and worship in a mixed marriage on tape for the conference, because one of their five children went down with chicken pox on the very day they were all setting off for Spode. Later we realised that marital spirituality is fundamental for interchurch families – and family spirituality too. We applied the term ‘domestic church’ to interchurch families and are now exploring it further. We also discovered that our experience of cross-frontier marriage was of use in marriage preparation for all kinds of ‘mixed’ marriages, not just for interchurch marriages like ours. Spode 68 was itself an exercise in the pastoral care of mixed marriages, in which couples themselves could help and support one another, encouraged by the clergy. A young priest with pastoral experience in a new town talked about the pastoral care of mixed marriages, and what might be possible. Soon after that we had considerable input into the document prepared by the Joint Working Group of the British Council of Churches and the Roman Catholic Church in England and Wales and in Scotland, entitled The Joint Pastoral Care of Interchurch Marriages in England, Wales and Scotland, published in 1971. Twenty years later the Association was involved in preparing the guidelines for the pastoral care of interchurch families, Churches Together in Marriage, prepared by the Group for Local Unity of Churches Together in England in 1994. We are still trying to encourage greater pastoral understanding of the need experienced by interchurch families for sacramental sharing – shared celebrations of weddings and baptisms, as well as sharing communion – as an expression and a deepening of their belonging in one ‘domestic church’ which is nourished by two church traditions. Much progress has already been made. We claimed, in our final statement from Spode 68, that some mixed marriage couples had experienced the reality of Christian unity in a way not yet experienced by all members of their churches. This is still true. A desire to promote Christian unity has been a constant for interchurch families throughout the past forty years. They have a particular incentive to take part in ecumenical work, and many have been found working for unity at local, national and international REPORTS & EVENTS 405 levels. Their experience of living in one another’s traditions and growing in mutual understanding and love is a particular contribution they can make to the ecumenical movement; they can be signs to the churches on their way towards unity. Spode 68 produced a final statement, which was sent to the meeting of the Anglican Communion-Roman Catholic Commission on Mixed Marriages that came together at Pineta Saccetti a few days later. It was the first of many papers sent to church leaders and theologians over the years. An outstanding one was that entitled Interchurch Families and Christian Unity adopted by the Second World Gathering of interchurch families from eleven countries held near Rome in July 2003. A small representative group from associations and groups of interchurch families including those from North America and Australia went in 2005 to discuss it with some of the staff of the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity, and were much encouraged by their visit. Spode 68 had studied what had become possible in other countries, so far as the promise was concerned. At Spode 1969 we had speakers from France and Holland. In 1970 the joint pastoral care guidelines already mentioned were heavily influenced by some recently produced in France. International English-speaking conferences of interchurch families began in 1980, and the Rome Gathering in 2003 used four official languages. There is now an International Network of Interchurch Families. English interchurch families were very pleased to have with them at their fortieth anniversary conference at Swanwick representative couples from other countries: from Austria, Belgium, Canada, France, Ireland and Switzerland. There has been no large multilingual gathering since Rome 2003, although there was an English-speaking international conference in Australia in 2005, but international networking is carried on not only through the internet but by sending couples to other associations’ conferences. Recently a couple from England attended a conference in the Ukraine that was organised by the Ecumenical Institute at Lviv together with French foyers mixtes. International groups also get together to plan attendance at ecumenical events such as Assemblies of the World Council of Churches. The latest occasion was the Third European Ecumenical Assembly held at Sibiu in Romania in 2007. At Swanwick 2008 there were reminiscences from those who had been at Spode in the early days of AIF. There were testimonies from 406 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 some of those who had contributed more recently to the wider ecumenical movement – as County Ecumenical Officers, on the Roman Catholic/Methodist Committee, as interchurch family representatives in Churches Together in England, Churches Together in Britain and Ireland, and so on. Have interchurch families made a difference? Our guest speakers at the conference, Canon Gregory Cameron, Deputy General Secretary of the Anglican Communion, Canon Bob Fyffe, General Secretary of Churches Together in Britain and Ireland, and Fr Gerry Hughes, SJ, considered this question and seemed to think so. Another speaker was Thomas Knieps-Port le Roi from the Catholic University of Leuven, who came to update the conference on the current state of the international interchurch families project on the notion of ‘domestic church’ and its relevance to our situation.∗ Old friends came to join us at the celebration dinner, including Dame Mary Tanner, now a President of the World Council of Churches, and Fr Robert Murray, SJ, as well as some of the ‘older children’ who no longer come regularly to conferences, but want to remain in contact. We had much to celebrate at the fortieth anniversary conference at Swanwick. But it was also a time for renewed commitment, for much remains to be done. We yearn for the time when there will be no more interchurch families, because all differences will have been gathered together and lived fully within one communion. Meanwhile, to quote the Rome paper, interchurch families ‘are called to witness by their lives, their actions and their words to the fundamental and growing unity of all Christian people, and to share a common life in the Church for the reconciliation of our churches’.

∗ See pp. 341-359 above for the article developing this intervention. (Ed.)

REPORTS & EVENTS 407

INTERNATIONAL INTERCONFESSIONAL CONGRESS OF RELIGIOUS

Nicolas Stebbing CR∗

In the summer issue of One in Christ Fr Thomas Ryan writes of the contribution new religious communities have to make in the ongoing search for unity, and makes a specific plea for monastic communities in particular to see this as an area to which they can make a unique contribution. His witness is very much what we have found over the years in the International, Interconfessional Congress of Religious (quite a mouthful in English – we call it just CIR!). CIR was founded by a remarkable Spanish (well, Basque actually) priest, Fr Martin da Zabala in 1977. Fr Martin had a passion for unity. For him it was a major scandal that the Church is divided. He had a very high doctrine of the Church and did not in any way wish to compromise its integrity but he also longed for all Christians to overcome their divisions and be fully united in their service of Christ. His vision was to bring religious together from the different ecclesial traditions so that they could discover and celebrate what they had in common as a way forward towards unity. It has been a fascinating adventure for all of us. In the first place we hardly knew other religious existed. Roman Catholics were generally unaware that there are religious in Anglican, Reformed and Lutheran traditions. Indeed Anglicans themselves are often unaware of the religious orders in their church and assume, when they meet them, they must be Roman Catholic. Recently when some of us visited Rome and had a really interesting meeting with the Congregation for Religious Life we found most of them didn’t know of our existence either! CIR meets every two years, generally in a monastic community setting as we feel it important to live the religious life, to pray

∗ Nicolas Stebbing is a member of the Community of the Resurrection, Mirfield and currently President of the CIR. He teaches Greek in the College of the Resurrection, travels quite often to Romania, and works also in his home country of Zimbabwe. He has published a book on Romanian Spirituality, Bearers of the Spirit, (Cistercian Publications) and edited Anglican Religious Life (Dominican Publications). 408 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 together, eat together and talk together, and to share as fully as we can the life of the host community. Generally we are about 60 in number, men and women, and are drawn from all over Europe and sometimes further afield. We listen to a number of papers and we have the usual discussion groups, but we are not primarily an academic group. We want to learn about each other, and we want to pray. As Fr Ryan says, and we have certainly found, the religious life goes back to before the divisions between East and West, and within the Western church too. We find very quickly that we have much more in common than we thought. It is very moving to see friendships blossoming between men and women religious of very different church traditions. It is even more amazing to see English religious, who are notoriously bad at foreign languages, struggling with long forgotten French and German in order to explore a new friendship with an Orthodox or Catholic brother or sister. It is wonderful to find that under all the differences we really are the same; as Cardinal Kasper reminded us once, amusingly, “Wir kochen alle mit Wasser!” We all cook with water. Over the last 30 years our Congresses have taken us back and forth across Europe: from Loyola (twice) to High Leigh, Lyons, Trier, Assisi, Mirfield, Fleury, Selbitz, Bruges, Romania, Subiaco, Whitby, Riehen, Belloc and in July 2009 we will be meeting in the beautiful monastery of Sambata de Sus, near Sibiu in Romania. Each Congress has had its own particular character, its problems and its joys. The membership of the group fluctuates. Some people come only once or twice; some attend every Congress for several years. Friendships grow and have surprising spin-offs, many of which we don’t know about. This is grass roots ecumenism, difficult to measure, yet it puts into practice the principles hammered out by the theologians: don’t do apart what you can do together; seek out the common unity, not the divisions; build up an atmosphere of trust and unity before trying to deal with the things that divide. In this there is a real experience of the ‘receptive ecumenism’ Paul Murray speaks of in the summer issue of One in Christ. We do learn from each other; often the predictable things. Our Orthodox religious usually sing us some liturgy and remind us of the importance of beautiful, liturgical prayer in a world that defaults towards the functional and pragmatic; from the Reformed and Lutheran tradition we gain a sense of the importance of Scripture, REPORTS & EVENTS 409

Scripture really is master in their lives in a way it has often ceased to be in more Catholic religious traditions; from Catholics that a stronger ecclesiology can be both an obstacle to any simplistic idea of unity, and a reminder of just how high the stakes are and how important it is to seek real unity, however hard and long the road may be. And perhaps we Anglicans have a particular experience of living with contradictions and division, which is also part of the ecumenical journey. There are also problems which have to be faced over and over again. At each Congress there is unhappiness over the Eucharist. Some insist we should all share Communion regardless of the ecclesial rules; others insist that keeping the ecclesial rules is an important part of the search for unity. One thing I have learned is that a person who insists on keeping the rules about intercommunion is not necessarily an old fashioned stick-in-the-mud with a defective regard for other Christians. I remember Fr da Zabala explaining to me with tears in his eyes why he couldn’t receive Communion at the Mass I was about to celebrate; no one could accuse him of lack of love for fellow Christians. There are problems with the Orthodox. It is always difficult for them to come, because of money, or distance, or more sadly because of the growing xenophobic tendencies in their own churches, especially in the monasteries. Yet their contribution is always great. Many of them have been hugely changed by the experience. CIR seems to serve a real purpose in showing that we are all Christians seeking the same God, serving the same Christ and not to be feared because of our differences. There is much history and hurt to be overcome in this long journey. There are problems with the English (I am a Zimbabwean!). English Roman Catholics take very little part in this Congress. Anglican religious who did support it with much enthusiasm are now becoming so few and so elderly in their communities that fewer and fewer can be spared to come. Perhaps that is one problem with Roman Catholic English religious as well. Before each Congress I wonder, is it really worth it? We spend a lot of money, we travel, we enjoy it, we see new countries, new monasteries, eat new food, speak other languages. Is this just an expensive holiday, an ecumenical jolly, a ‘talk-shop’ that thinks it is important but produces nothing? At the end of each Congress I am 410 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 sure it has been a wonderful grace-filled experience; but I wonder how we can extend it, how we can make more of it. We want to be sure it all leads somewhere. Here we have to accept our limitations. We simply can’t organise the Holy Spirit. We encourage people to keep up the friendships and links they have made and some of them do. The organising committee, usually with a couple of extras meets in- between congresses to plan and to deepen our own ecumenical life. This has proved to be a place of precious friendships. We made a pilgrimage together to Rome which seemed important at the time. And we pray. The rest is for God. Fr Martin da Zabala died on the Feast of the Assumption in 2006 in his home city of Bilbao. That short, plump, passionate little priest with his enthusiasms, his griefs, his passions and his love for his fellow Christians has changed the lives of countless religious through the organisation he founded. Whenever my own faith in ecumenism grows weak I think of him and he inspires me to go back for more.

Information about the next CIR Congress in Simbata de Sus from 1-6 July 2009 can be gained from [email protected] REPORTS & EVENTS 411

FRATERNAL DELEGATES ADDRESS SYNOD OF BISHOPS During its meetings in Rome, the Synod was addressed by a number of ‘fraternal delegates’. On 9 October the Revd Dr Robert K. Welsh, the U.S.-based president of the Disciples of Christ's council on Christian unity addressed the Synod as follows: Holy Father, Synod Fathers, and Members of this Twelth General Synod of Bishops, Brothers and Sisters in Christ: Grace and peace to you in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. I am honored to be present with you as a fraternal delegate from the Disciples of Christ to share in the important work and discussions of this Assembly devoted to the theme, ‘The Word of God in the Life and Mission of the Church.’ It is a theme that is central to life and witness of the whole church, calling forth obedience in the church’s listening, obedience in our proclamation, and obedience in our responding to the Word of God made flesh for the sake and salvation of the world. My intervention is centered upon two reflections for your consideration and continuing dialogue: First, for my tradition (the Disciples of Christ), Christian unity stands at the heart of the Gospel message. We celebrate the primary importance that the Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI, has given to the full, visible union of all Christians and its impact on the witness to the Gospel. Division within the body of Christ for Disciples is a scandal before God and before the world. For my church, we affirm the Bible (Sacred Scripture) as foundational to the whole life and witness of the church; and, we believe the proclamation of the Word of God and the celebration of the Lord’s Supper are intimately bound together. Our division as brothers and sisters in Christ at the Table of the Eucharist thus stands as a continuing denial of the power of the cross to heal, to reconcile, and to unite all things on earth and all things in heaven. My hope is that this Synod will deepen and expand its reflection on the essential relationship between the Word of God and the Eucharist; and then to explore the implications of that relationship for the unity of all Christians within the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic church. And second, I hope that your work and discussion during this Synod will explore more fully the dynamic relationship between the Word of 412 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

God and the church’s mission, especially in relation to the poor and the suffering, the oppressed and the marginalized. I was moved by the eloquent intervention by Bishop Tagle this past Tuesday when he stated that ‘the Church must learn how to listen to the poor the way God listens and must lend its voice to the voiceless.’ My church has committed itself to an understanding of mission that is based upon a guiding principle of ‘critical presence’ that sets its priority on ministry to and with partners at the point of their deepest need; we are called not only to listen to the poor, but to anticipate encountering the living Word of God in their struggle and in their daily witness to hope in the face of despair; to life in the face of death. In his Report to the Synod, Cardinal Ouellet concluded his statement with the challenging and penetrating question about our meditation on the Word of God, ‘What have you eaten today?’ In this Synod, we are called to remember those in our world who, indeed, have not eaten today – those who have not been nourished by physical food; and yet, they long for true nourishment not only for their bodies but for their souls. As Christians we believe that nourishment, that food, is offered in Jesus Christ, the living Word of God. I pray that this Synod of Bishops in your reflection on the Word of God will not only bring renewal to the life of the Catholic Church, especially in its local life and witness. But also, I pray that this Synod will truly serve the whole church in bringing renewal to the ecumenical movement and to all churches in our common calling to God’s mission in the world. May God be with you, and may God richly bless this Synod in your work on behalf of the whole Church. REPORTS & EVENTS 413

LOURDES ECUMENICAL CONFERENCE: 24 SEPTEMBER 2008 Archbishop Rowan Williams and Cardinal Walter Kasper gave addresses on ‘Mary and the Unity of the Church’. A brief period of questions followed, with the Bishop of Tarbes and Lourdes inviting both speakers to comment on the prophecy spoken by Simeon of Mary, 'A sword shall pierce through your own soul also' (Luke 2.35) and its connection with the unity of the Church. The following is reproduced with thanks to the Archbishop’s website, where the texts of their addresses may be found.

Cardinal Kasper: First of all I want to thank His Grace [the Bishop of Tarbes and Lourdes] for his words… I also wanted to underline the relationship between Mary and the Spirit, which is very important. The Spirit is the Spirit of Jesus Christ and a concrete sacramental reality: therefore we are aiming for complete visible and sacramental unity of the Church. As the words of old Simeon tell us, Mary's heart is pierced by the sword and she suffers also. She suffered with her son, she is suffering with the mystical body of her son which is the Church. Therefore we must not be content with the reality of divisions within the Church: this must be a reality of suffering for us all. Everybody must do all they can in prayer and suffering, towards the full, visible unity of the Church. I am so happy to see this pilgrimage of Catholics and Anglicans, and we cannot regard division in the Church as normal, ordinary or 'business as usual'. Archbishop Williams: I think the words of Simeon to Mary about the sword are indeed a kind of prophecy that if the Incarnate Son of God is indeed an incarnate body, that body can be wounded. And if that is true of our Lord in his earthly life and his passion, it's true in a sense, of his mystical body, also. And I know there have been theologians in the past who have written and reflected about the wounds of the Church (Rosmini in particular, The Five Wounds of the Church, for example), but without wanting to go into the historical detail of that set of ideas and debates, I think we have to be aware that on the one hand the Church is always capable of being wounded by the infidelity and the betrayal of its own members, by division, by the heightening of 414 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 hostility and suspicion and violence between believers: and yet always capable of being wounded, always capable of being healed because it is what it is because it is the Body of Christ. And once again our hope has to rest at that level, and we don't simply shrug our shoulders and say 'The Body of Christ is vulnerable: what did you expect?' This is a body that has within it a constantly self-renewing life, moving us more deeply than we can often tell. The Revd Prebendary David Houlding, one of the Anglican pilgrims, asked: Your Eminence, Your Grace: you have spoken about the miracle of ecumenism and those of us who were present this morning certainly felt that something very extraordinary was happening. To see you and our Archbishop together in that way was very moving, as well as having one of our newest Church of England deacons vested and reading the Gospel. We're deeply grateful to you for that and I'm sure I speak on behalf of everyone here today. As you know, Your Eminence, we are a group of Catholic Anglicans who hold the great tradition of the first millennium of the Church most dearly. And it's to that tradition that we seek to witness within our Church of England. But as you are both aware, we are at this present moment in deep travail, and I know that Archbishop Rowan is particularly sensitive to where we are at the moment, he understands the nature of our predicament. But you've also given us a vision of a common table between Roman Catholics and Anglicans, of communion, that must be at the centre of our ecumenical vision. And I wonder if you could both address a word of hope to us in our present difficulties and suggest how we might renew that vision for a common table and shared communion between us. Cardinal Kasper: Well I think what we all experienced today is already a sign of hope, because I could not imagine such an event twenty or thirty years ago. Praying together is very important: the fact that the Archbishop of Canterbury and myself could celebrate – even if not in a full sense – together this morning, is a sign of hope. The ecumenical movement is a pilgrimage and we have to go on in prayer and trust in the Spirit, and also Our Lady will help us. The ecumenical movement is not a means of empire-building, but a movement in the Holy Spirit united REPORTS & EVENTS 415 with Jesus Christ in his commandments, his life: and sharing his cross and resurrection which will unite us. We need to learn again what Mary told us and go back to the gospels and to the Fathers, which we have in common. We Catholics have a thousand years in common with the Orthodox, but fifteen-hundred years with you, and we should renew our common heritage of the Fathers. Back at the Lambeth Conference, I spoke of a new Oxford Movement as not only a liturgical movement but a theological movement, to go back to the Fathers. That's our common ground. And from this common ground we can come together at the first millennium which links us also with the Orthodox brothers and sisters. Also at the Lambeth Conference, I was impressed by the attitude of listening to each other. These indaba groups listening to each other, I found very moving, and in listening to each other they listened to the Spirit and the good news of the Gospel. The Spirit of Christ guides the Church in the development of dogmas, and we have to regain all this richness and not run off into narrow positions. We must open our hearts for Christ and for the whole of our common tradition, and if we do this, and we do it in a humble way as Mary did, I would trust in the future of the ecumenical movement. Archbishop Williams: I think that we mustn't lose sight of the fact that between the Anglican Communion and the Roman Catholic Church there remains, as the Cardinal has said, a real and substantial body of agreed method and vision in theology. It's what is represented by the ARCIC documents right from the beginning to the most recent (though I think some would have questioned aspects of the method of some of the more recent ones, but that's another story.) There remains that heritage which we have acknowledged in common and I've said more than once – so forgive me for saying it again – that it's very important that, in our current debates, developments and experiments towards change, we should constantly be asking the question 'Are we still using the same method of theology? Do we still hold ourselves accountable to the same standards of revealed truth or are we saying theological discussion is a luxury?' I think we are rather in danger at times of losing sight of that, and failing to ask whether we are still using the same methods. Because once we've stopped speaking the same language in some way, we can't 416 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 have the debates. Now I think it's important that the Roman Catholic Church and other churches including ours, go on having a real and vigorous debate about the nature of the Petrine office: but in order to have that debate we need to be able to recognize in each other the same language, idiom and rhythm of argument. If that's not there, we can't even begin to have that encounter. And so that means we more and more isolate ourselves from each other. So, if I'm speaking of hope, I would tell you not to underrate the amount we do have from the last few decades in terms of agreed method and vision, even on the contested subject of ministry: but also on authority and tradition, on many ethical issues, and on Mary; don't underrate that. It needs defending and fighting for within our Anglican context at the moment, but there it is and it hasn't been overturned. I would also say in terms of hopefulness, that the ways of God are deeply mysterious in the economy of the Church: that just as one bit of the Church seems to be losing its nerve about something, some other bit of the Church is discovering it. It is premature to believe that God has given up on the Anglican Communion, and so if what I've said about the gift of God and the commitment of God is true there will be something that has been given to us as Anglicans historically that we can with humility share with the wider Catholic Christian fellowship. But for that to happen we do need to draw back from those hasty, exclusive often reactive policies and moments where we seem to be veering towards losing the common language. It's a cliché but I think it's true, 'You can only have a useful disagreement when you're speaking the same language' and our danger in Anglicanism is very often that we're losing even the language in which to disagree and that is tragic because it's not only Anglicans who suffer, it's the entire fellowship of all those with whom we would want to have an engaged and robust conversation about all manner of things. But finally, our hope lies in God's commitment to the Church. Who knows how that will work out in our Anglican context? But it's there, always, and it's expressed in that deposit of common thinking and praying and vision that is still established within our Anglican spectrum. God grant it stays there. REPORTS & EVENTS 417

A JOURNEY OF RECONCILIATION AT THE TANTUR ECUMENICAL INSTITUTE : 31 MARCH –11 APRIL 2008 (contd.) Revd Dr Rosemary Kidd, Faith and Unity Coordinator for the Baptist Union of Great Britain, adds her personal account to those published in our previous issue. I recently returned home from a study trip organised from the Tantur Ecumenical Centre, which is set on the edge of Jerusalem, just above the Bethlehem checkpoint in the Israeli 'security wall'. This unique opportunity for learning, touring and talking together with the wide ecumenical range of course participants was very rich and, in this unique context, immensely formative. I returned, haunted by images - images of the overwhelming beauty of the land and also, the dark, harrowing images of human grief. Just as nothing had prepared me for the spiritual stillness, as the water lapped our boat, idling on the Sea of Galilee, so nothing had prepared me for the harsh reality of people's daily suffering. For example, some of us happened to meet a Palestinian teenager in a shop. His handsome, youthful face was crossed by a shadow of pain. As we talked, he showed us pictures on his mobile phone. One was of a pool of blood on a Bethlehem pavement and the other was of his unarmed, dying father slumped in a car, after he had been shot during an armed raid by Israeli soldiers. His beautiful 6 year-old sister cries herself to sleep every night. To pass from Jerusalem into Bethlehem these days, it is necessary to produce either a foreign passport or, if you are a Palestinian, an internal border pass, which then corresponds to an electronic fingerprint-recognition machine. Passes are difficult to obtain. Every time I was waved through the border post, I left behind a Palestinian person whose credentials were being challenged. This is 'normality'. I met a student who had been kept standing for two hours and missed her lecture. I watched a pregnant woman pass through, but her smartly dressed companion, possibly her mother, was delayed, and was becoming visibly more stressed as the minutes passed, until the humiliation was summarily ended. This internal-international border is the visible evidence of the fracture within the Jewish national state of Israel, which purports to be a democracy. For the Jews, this is a security wall, preventing armed insurgency. For the Palestinians, it is 418 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 the twenty-four foot high concrete wall of their imprisonment. Apart from the military, Israelis are not permitted to pass through this barrier. The people beyond the security wall are their national enemies, suspected of fomenting terrorism. Conversely, the vast majority of Palestinians living in Bethlehem do not merit passes, and the only Israeli citizens they will ever meet are militarised young adults, wielding guns. What hope of education for humanity? I sensed, on the streets of both Hebron and Jerusalem, the dehumanisation and degradation of all citizens, both Palestinian and Israeli, which is the inevitable corollary of a police state. And deep in my psyche, in my imaginings, I wondered at the pain of God. These are my abiding memories of Israel-Palestine. It is easy to forget that there was a time, in living history, when the ethnic groupings inside the borders of what is now modern Israel lived in relative harmony alongside each other. (I already knew that because I had read Caught in Between, the autobiography of Riah Abu El-Assal, the now retired Bishop of Jerusalem.) I recognise that the political crisis has been constructed in complex ways over many years, and that British governments have been deeply implicated, dating as far back as the Balfour Declaration, and significantly from 1948 onwards. Western post-Holocaust guilt, and the territorial claim of Jewish and Christian Zionists position modern Palestinians as impostors. I sense that a contemporary solution to the political impasse could only be a miracle of Grace, comparable to the tumbling Berlin Wall, or to the amazing demise of the Apartheid regime. Today, however, thousands of Palestinian citizens still long to receive compensation for homes which were appropriated after 1948. One woman told me that her grandmother had recently died in the Bethlehem refugee camp, clasping the key of her family home, which has been occupied for the last sixty years by Israelis. The history of this particular national pain is profoundly complicated, but what I observed, during my snapshot visit, was gross inequality of access to every kind of human resource between the two populations. This was way beyond what I had anticipated from keeping my 'ear to the ground' in the UK. I knew, for example, of the 'settlements'. I was unprepared, however, to see the creeping invasion of new Israeli housing, claiming Palestinian lands. The caravans arrive first, and soon bricks and concrete colonise the rural landscape, like a REPORTS & EVENTS 419 creeping tide across Palestinian olive groves and fields. In 2007, ninety-three building permits were obtained by Palestinians in the Bethlehem area, compared with 28,000 permits on behalf of Israeli settlers. A genuine democracy would espouse equal rights for all its citizens, but the security wall is a highly visible signal of political denial. In one, important sense this is, indeed, a security wall. The city of Jerusalem is now safer from the Palestinian suicide bombers, who had previously wreaked death and destruction in the enclosed streets and at crowded bus stops, week by week. Jewish children can again travel safely to school, thank God, without fearing the horrific carnage, which dogged the peace of the city for many months. But the route of the wall is highly eccentric. Why would a security wall need to divide Palestinian communities from each other, or to separate Palestinians from their own fields, or the women of Bethany from their local maternity hospital, when there are no Jewish people living in the area? The Palestinians have become militant. Acts of aggression bring disproportionate reprisals by the Israeli army, the fifth strongest military force in the world. As the struggle continues, many politically implicated, but otherwise innocent people, continue to be hurt, such as the 6 year-old girl in Bethlehem. Palestinian Christians find themselves caught in the social and political crossfire. Many hundreds have already emigrated from their homeland. The poorest do not have that option. Christians in Bethlehem told me that they feel forgotten and abandoned by the West, and that life for many people is an ongoing struggle for survival. My prayer is that the World Council of Churches initiative during this sixtieth anniversary of the formation of the State of Israel will bring both reassurance and practical help to sustain them as they wait for an authentic peace agreement amongst all the 'Children of Abraham'. When there was unrest in Northern Ireland, I used to say to myself, ‘these violent people aren't really Christians. They are ruthlessly manipulating religion for political ends.’ That was the only way in which I could reconcile the barbaric acts which used to appear on our television, week after week. Similarly, competing religious fundamentalisms and dominant Israeli secularism cast shadows over the land where Jesus once preached Love, justice and peace. As we floated on the Sea of Galilee, with the engine quelled, we were safe. We had passports out of this land. Jesus was once here, in a boat, 420 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2 on this inland sea. The Spirit of the risen Christ is still here, hurting, with every child whose life is touched by oppression. Violence dehumanises the perpetrators and scars the victims, whether they be Palestinian or Israeli. Back home in the UK, my prayers are for all the young people of Israel-Palestine whose personalities are being shaped by the demise of human rights, on whichever side of the security wall they may be living. I continue to pray for peace...

Words of the Unknown Soldier He stumped us, this Jesus of yours, with his walking on water, fandango, entrechat, glissade; birthing, imagine! in a dark cave, out of all knowing; then he walked the hard-baked earth of Palestine, but not as you walk, or as I, for behind him the healing flowers grew, the rosebay willowherb, chamomile, the John's Wort; we noted, too, that he could walk through walls, appearing suddenly in the midst of folk as if he were always there, waiting that they might notice him; oh yes, this too, he walked on air leaving them gawping upwards as he rose higher and higher, like a skylark, walking into the invisible. That was later. But humankind will not be cheated of its prey for we claimed him, hailing him fast to a tree, that he could not move on water, earth or air, and we buried him in the underearth. Where, it is said, he took to walking once again, singing his larksong to the startled, to the stumped, dead.

Information about the author may be accessed at his website

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BOOK REVIEWS

Owen F. Cummings, Canterbury Cousins: The Eucharist in Contem- porary Anglican Theology, Paulist Press, New York 2007, pp. vi + 174, $22.95. ISBN 978-0809144907. A few years ago I attended my first meeting as an Anglican member of the English Anglican – Roman Catholic Committee in the UK. The discussions were lively and informed by generosity and insight, and the conversations at meals were fun. The offices were shared between the two churches, and that meeting it was the turn of the Catholic Church to preside at the Eucharist. Caught up in the good spirits of the meeting and at the appropriate time I started to move forward to receive, only to feel a slight tap on my shoulder. Looking round I caught the eye of an Anglican friend, who shook his head almost imperceptibly. It was, and remains, one of the most violent moments I have experienced as a Christian, and even thinking about it now makes me wince inwardly at the wanton lack of charity that we had confected between us, despite the hours of genuinely Eucharistic fellowship that we had enjoyed together in discussion, prayer, and meal. Arguably one of the hardest truths Christian theologians of all denominations have to face is that the Eucharist has always divided brother from brother, sister from sister. The spectre of betrayal is handed on to the Church from the first Lord’s Supper, and rarely has it left us since. That scandalous tradition, so unwanted and yet so endorsed by the Church, was as much a part of the medieval world as it is today’s; as much a part of Calvin’s time as it was of Augustine’s. Every doctrinal theologian wrestles with the reality of this grieving witness, and not one, in truth, has found an authentic way forward – as the not insignificant efforts of the various ARCIC publications demonstrate. In recent years, by which I mean probably the last fifteen, English- speaking theologians have been greatly influenced by the work of John Milbank, whose collection of essays The Word Made Strange remains pivotal to understanding the high point the discipline has today reached, and which at its heart is utterly sacramental. Milbank’s theology of gift has its detractors, but the seriousness with which he reveals some of the spiritual and intellectual resources available to 422 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Christian reflection is both a marvel and a deeply religious witness. For Milbank would confess, I am certain, that it is the Eucharist itself that gifts those resources to the Church, and we have only begun to reckon its depths. Milbank does not feature extensively in Owen Cummings’ Canterbury Cousins: The Eucharist in Contemporary Anglican Theology, the author offering instead some thoughtful pages on Milbank’s close colleagues Graham Ward and Catherine Pickstock. What we do receive, however, is a series of fifteen short chapters devoted to a wide range of Anglican theologians, including: Charles Gore and Oliver Quick from the early part of the twentieth century; Mascall, Pittenger, Mackinnon and Hanson, from the post-war period; and David Ford, Kenneth Stevenson, and Rowan Williams from more recent times. Cummings’ touch is light throughout and his method repeats across the entire text: particular writings of individual figures are used to tease out a variety of cogent and helpful insights, the whole expressing much of the shape and drift of Modern Anglican Eucharistic theology; or better, theologies. This method does not allow Cummings to draw any systematic conclusions, and that last point about theologies rather than theology arguably illustrates the key notion here: namely that such a disparate group of writers does not allow of such schematization, even if it were thought to be desirable. Such a limitation, moreover, allows Cummings to demonstrate the ways in which various writers operating outside the more formal bureaucracies of the Church of England, for example Pittenger and (on occasions) Mackinnon, were able to push ideas further than the Church’s own committees. I particularly liked the way in which Cummings worked out the relationship between Pittenger’s cosmology and his sacrificial understanding of the Eucharist: expected, but so many lesser critics would not have made these points so elegantly. I have several criticisms, though, of what overall is a very nice and intelligent study. I was sorry to see little mention of Stephen Sykes’ work, particularly as it dominated so much of the Church of England’s material on the Eucharist in the 1990s. I would also argue that there’s a vast range of Eucharistic theologies around the Anglican Communion, for example Archbishop Ian Ernest’s work in the Indian Ocean, or the several strands of Ubuntu theology in Central and BOOK REVIEWS 423

Southern Africa, that deserve as much attention as any of these writers, even the present Archbishop of Canterbury. Even more disturbing, speaking personally, is the language of ‘cousins’, which I do not like at all. Even as sensitive a writer as Owen Cummings cannot help but make it feel as though such language is distancing, and even as a metaphor it carries unfortunate connotations of not being brothers and sisters. It seems, in short, a painful word, one arguably out of touch with the loving theology that has produced this very good book. These caveats notwithstanding, I am certain that Canterbury Cousins merits wide reading and will be received in the spirit that Owen Cummings intends. For myself I am particularly grateful for the lovely chapter on David Ford’s work: as someone who has spent a lot of time in recent years re-reading Ford’s Barth and God’s Story, and thinking about it as something of a key to English-language theology in the last quarter of the twentieth-century, it was good to be reminded of the devotional heart of his work, in the very best sense of that word. It is a generous chapter entirely in keeping with a generous and good- hearted approach to ecumenism. Gareth Jones, Canterbury Christ Church University

A History of Ecumenism in Wales: 1956 – 1990, Noel A. Davies (University of Wales Press, 2008), 247, £50. ISBN: 9780708321508. To assume from the title that this book will be of interest only to those with a concern for Wales would be to overlook a rare find! Wales may be the prism through which the events in this History unfold, but their import is of much wider significance, because this is a book about ecumenism in its widest and deepest sense. Certainly it’s about the search for the unity Christ wills in the way that He wills it, but it’s also about what that means in terms of the common good. The first four chapters are concerned with matters of faith and order as they effect the inauguration and development of a national Council of Churches: a child of Edinburgh 1910; the event that ‘marked with confident optimism,’ to quote Adrian Hastings, ‘the first great step forward in what was to be in truth an ecumenical century.’ Davies singles out three areas for closer scrutiny. One is the Anglican/Free Church Covenant which promised a process resulting in organic union, and which was closely followed and encouraged at 424 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

Vatican and Diocesan levels. That it didn’t come off, at least in the form intended, was, in Martin Conway’s evaluation, because of ‘the inflexibility of inherited outlooks’ at the local level, ‘and at the wider levels, an indifference and un-readiness to explore actual partnership.’ Second is the matter of local ecumenism, without which, Davies concludes, ‘deeper denominational partnership will mean very little.’ Nevertheless, apart from numerous Free Church arrangements, Local Ecumenical Partnerships involving Anglicans, and Local Covenants with Catholics have never really taken off in Wales. A two language culture and geography are adduced as contributory. Local Councils of Churches, on the other hand, have a much better record, many with Catholic participation. The Catholic Church, as such, gets a whole chapter to itself, and for good reason. Though it was not until 1990 that it became a founding member, with other churches and denominations, of a different model of inter-church co-operation, Davies shows in fascinating, and sometimes painful detail, what was involved, for others as well as for Catholics, to achieve the transition from stranger to pilgrim- companion. For many, the second half of the book may be the most engaging, concentrating as it does on life and work. Wales was an industrial society, especially in its output of coal and iron, from early in the nineteenth century. A hundred or so years later decline had begun to set in, with repercussions for the national psyche. While ecumenism provided a vehicle for addressing these changing circumstances, Davies questions whether, ‘the churches in Wales, either denominationally or on an inter-church level, have really’ got to grips with ‘a Christian theology of work for a new age’, and he particularly bewails the trailing off in church funding for Industrial Mission. Of singular interest is his detailed case study of the churches abortive, but brave, engagement with central government during the mining industry dispute of 1984/5. Devolution was another issue on the Council’s agenda, and long before the plebiscite that brought it into being in 1997. A run-in by Church leaders with the then Conservative secretary of state, John Redwood, produced a major report, Wales: a Moral Society? and paved the way for a growing, if not complete consensus, that some form of devolution would be in the national interest. BOOK REVIEWS 425

When the British government reacted to the invasion of the Falklands/Malvinas islands in 1982, by sending a task force to regain the disputed territory, it divided public opinion throughout Britain. In Wales it tapped into a peculiarly strong pacifist undercurrent. (Wales had more conscientious objectors, proportionately, than England during the second world war.) Some attribute it to the sixth century soldier-saint, Pedrog, who broke his spear rather than risk further bloodshed. Davies traces the debate in the churches on this and nuclear deterrence through successive resolutions, but again with little consensus. The decision of the World Council of Churches to establish a fund to Combat Racism led to another battle ground in the Welsh Council. ‘On the whole,’ notes Davies, ‘in this field more than in relation to any other national and international issue, there was considerable agreement not only on issues of principle but on ways of engaging in the Christian witness against apartheid in South Africa.’ As the first full-time General Secretary of the Council of Churches for Wales, Noel A. Davies (by tradition a minister of the Union of Welsh Independents, by conviction an out and out ecumenist) is uniquely placed to produce this thematic record since, for thirty years, he was at the heart of most of the events he describes. There are two laments that run through this History. One is the inadequate resourcing by the churches of ecumenical instruments, despite high sounding words in praise of closer-co-operation. The other is their almost perverse inability to implement their own agreements! As the only text of its kind describing the journey of some of the main church traditions in Britain and Ireland to a shared engagement in evangelization, this History is currently unrivalled. As a book that draws on a doctoral thesis, it is also a work of scholarship besides being of general interest. Those concerned about ecumenism in the second half of this century could do no better than to ponder these pages in contrition, but also with thanksgiving for faithful pioneers like Noel A. Davies, who have devoted their lives to our Lord’s prayer, ut unum sint. At £50 a copy, get your local library to stock it! Gethin Abraham-Williams, former General Secretary of Churches Together in Wales (CYTÛN), author of Spirituality or Religion? Do we have to choose? 2008. 426 ONE IN CHRIST VOL. 42 NO. 2

De los Votos a la Misión: El Tratado de Lutero sobre los Votos Religiosos, Pedro Gil FSC (Bilbao: Universidad de Deusto, 2008), 320. ISBN: 978-84-9830-140-3. This volume includes a presentation of the historical and personal context of Luther’s Judgment on Monastic Vows (1522), a translation of the text (for the first time in Spanish), and a commentary.∗ This is an important contribution to the literature on the contemporary renewal of religious life and to the ecumenical literature on a seldom treated theme. Furthermore, as an introduction of this debate and ecumenical reflection into the Hispanophone community, it provides a timely contribution to the important discussions on the renewal of religious life today. The text was written in 1521 during Luther’s time in solitude at the Wartburg Castle, three years after dispensation from his Augustinian vows (1518) by his superior, and before his own marriage. It was a time of great uncertainty, after his condemnation at the Diet of Worms, and while things back in Wittenberg were beginning to dissolve under the influence of the more radical preaching of Karlstad. His own Augustinian monastery was beginning to disperse, and priests were marrying. This treatise was written as much to support those leaving in response to the preaching on justification, grace and faith, as out of any theoretical theological concern of his own. In the text he attacks what the author identifies as the ideology of Monastic Vows, but does not in fact condemn the evangelical life style which is the monastic ideal. In fact, he uses the examples of Bernard, Francis and Benedict against what has become the legalistic focus, in his view, of these ‘good works’ which denied the centrality of baptismal Christian identity, the freedom of the Christian in response to the Gospel, and the vocation of all Christians. In his review of both the context of the sixteenth century and the challenges that this analysis can provide for the contemporary understanding of religious consecration and mission, the author deftly sifts through the values and limitations of Luther’s challenges. He situates this treatise among the critical and reforming works of the period like those of Erasmus and Teresa of Jesus. Without being

∗ An English version of Judgement of Martin Luther on Monastic Vows may be found in volume 21 of H. Lehmann, J. Atkinson, eds., Luther’s Works (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1966), 243 – 400. BOOK REVIEWS 427 anachronistic, he demonstrates how shifts brought about in Catholic development in the founding of the Jesuits, the Tridentine reforms, the plethora of seventeenth to nineteenth century active communities, and a renewed understanding of consecration and mission, move the debates well beyond the context of Luther’s critiques. This is an important work in ‘receptive ecumenism’ in that it takes a specific Reformation issue, contextualizes it in a way that both Protestants and Catholics might understand what issues were at stake, and allows the positive content of the critique to become a resource for Catholics deepening the renewal of consecrated life in our own day. Brother Jeffrey Gros FSC, Memphis Theological Seminary.

BOOKS RECEIVED Growth in Agreement III. International Dialogue Texts and Agreed Statements, 1998-2005, ed. Jeffrey Gros FSC, Thomas F. Best, Lorelei Fuchs SA (Geneva: WCC publications and Grand Rapids/Cambridge: Eerdmans, 2007), xvii + 615; paperback. “Because he was a German!” Cardinal Bea and the Origins of the Roman Catholic Engagement in the Ecumenical Movement, Jerome-Michael Vereb CP (Grand Rapids/Cambridge: Eerdmans, 2006), xxviii + 332; hardback. Inter-church Relations: Developments and Perspectives. A Tribute to Bishop Anthony Farquhar, ed. Bernard Leahy (Dublin: Veritas, 2008), 203, paperback.

The Oblate Life, ed. Gervase Haldaway OSB (Canterbury Press, 2008), x + 322, hardback. To Follow You, Light of Life, Bruno Forte (Grand Rapids/Cambridge: Eerdmans, 2005), xii + 190; paperback.