Mother Church?
Derek Thomas

In the 1559 edition of The Institutes of the Christian Religion, John Calvin begins the massive forth section, “The External Means or Aims by Which God Invites Us Into the Society of Christ and Holds Us Therein” by citing Cyprian approvingly: “those to whom [God] is Father the church may also be Mother”.[1] It is almost inconceivable that a Protestant could say such a thing today without extensive qualification! The fact that Book IV of Calvin’s Institutes, comprising in length over one-third of the entire book, is devoted to the doctrine of the church shows that for Calvin, at least, ecclesiology was considered of supreme importance. Given, too, that the first edition (1536) was subtitled, summa pietatis, ecclesiology was, for Calvin, formative in the development of true godliness.

Evangelical and reformed students attending seminary these days are likely to be puzzled by the discovery of ecclesiology as a major concern of theological—biblical as well as systematic—study in the curriculum.[2] A growing number of such seminary students are, in the main, in their twenties, having little firsthand knowledge of the institutional church as might have been the case in previous generations. Denominational concerns occupy “practical” courses, ensuring that future ministers are aware of the idiosyncrasies of particular rites and forms. These are largely concerned with “how to” questions of the practitioners of technique, and rarely uncover theological principles or biblical paradigms.

It is almost unimaginable that treatises such as the mid-nineteenth century, The Church of Christ, by James Bannerman (2 volumes and over 900 pages!) would find a ready readership were it to be written today. Hans Küng’s The Church (1976) continues to be cited as a twentieth century treatment of reactionary response to conservative Catholicism, but more for its novelty than its content. It would be disturbing to enquire too deeply into the confidence with which today’s seminary student could affirm the dogma, “I believe in the holy, catholic church” (Credo in…sanctam ecclesiam catholicam) of the Apostles’ Creed, or the statement, “and in one, holy, catholic and apostolic church” (E t unam, sanctam, catholicam et apostolicam Ecclesiam ), of the Nicene Creed (325 a.d.). Still more doubt would ensue in seeking affirmation of Cyprian formula: extra ecclesiam nulla salus (outside the church there is no salvation), even if puritan Confessions (like the Westminster Confession) added the qualifier (“ordinarily”). [3] Over a quarter century ago, G. C. Berkouwer wondered if such statements can be considered “relevant” by modern students of ecclesiology. [4]

More recently, Donald G. Bloesch, writing from a position of self-confessedly “evangelical neo-orthodoxy” reminded us that doubt over theological dogma (doctrine, rationalism) can be traced to the writings of Friedrich Schleiermacher (1768-1834), who argued that preaching is basically “testimony… to one’s own experience” and theology as the collective amalgam of “the soul’s experience of spiritual life within the Christian Church.” [5] It is not at all insignificant that Schleiermacher’s On Religion: Speeches to its Cultured Despisers of 1799 should find itself republished in 1996. [6] In this work Schleiermacher attempted to salvage the church from its critics, arguing that despite being largely a “Church Contemptible,” the “Church Militant” still brings folk into the “Church Triumphant.” What emerges is a view of the church that is anthropocentric, a social gathering where religious expression is allowed freedom of expression, where one experience is as valid as any other, and the institution of the church a convenient way of bringing some coherence into what otherwise would be hopelessly diversified and inchoate. The ecumenicity of our present age finds in this line of thought a ready formula for maintaining an institutionalized church where the various strands of religious feelings are allowed freedom of expression and affirmation.

Those who have rejected, and continue to reject, such subjectivism and anthropocentrism, have not always returned to a more theologically driven and biblically expressed formulation of what the church is . It is difficult for post-Enlightenment individualists to share the vision for a churchly consciousness; we tend to read the New Testament data, for example, as not giving us a coherent doctrine of the church—at least, not of an institutionalized church that can be defined as strictly as we define a denomination. Not without importance has been a century of suggestion that the church is essentially charismatic —in the sense that it is made up of a diversified group of individually and differently gifted men and women. [7] Paul does not address the ecclesiastical errors that trouble us today in the same way he does more doctrinal issues such as justification or sanctification. We tend therefore to individualize the New Testament data, under-valuing its metaphors of unity and coherence (“the people of God,” “the body of Christ,” “the bride of Christ,” “the flock of Christ,” a “building fitly framed together” etc).

Then again, the shadow of the reformation with its understandable fear of tyrannical control and pontifical authority has caused us to be fearful of structure and coherence. Within denominationalism, for example, debates as to the authority of presbyteries and General assemblies over local congregations still rages on without any sign of being extinguished. We still tend to view church as we experience it. Thus suburban corner-block churches tend to emphasize community and body-life issues. Conservative denominational churches stress doctrinal formulation as the point of coherence but sometimes stress secondary issues to the point of fostering a lack of catholicity resulting in the un-churching of those whose practice is different from theirs. Charismatic churches stress every-member gifting in ways that are not always in the interests of the body but expressions of self-fulfillment and narcissistic indulgence. It is almost impossible for some to imagine the church other than in its denominational and institutional dimension, a view that would be difficult for Christians in the New Testament era to recognize.

More particularly, in the Western world of today, Christianity is no longer the dominant cultural force; we live in a post-Christian pluralistic society. The anti-historical trend of recent decades (Foucault’s thesis that histories do not offer explanations but bids for power, “attempts to legitimize particular institutions or attitudes in the present”), eliciting responses of an anti-historical kind in the loss of consciousness in the communion of saints. The church of today has lost sight of its place within the historical tradition, leaving itself somewhat rootless. The “worship wars” evidence an abandonment of traditional liturgy leaving contemporary worship adrift from the past and from what previous generations regarded as essential in defining what true corporate worship is. In addition, the cult of youth, the introduction of modern musical genres for reasons of taste without reasoned argument for its propriety adds significantly to the rootlessness of the modern church.[8]

In reaction, and at first glance, certain movements have adopted a “Back to the Bible” formula, not wishing to distance themselves entirely from the past, merely the cultural baggage of more recent history. But it has proven a simplistic, often thoughtless response ignoring received formulations of truth and practice that have no need of being fought all over again lest, this time around, we get the formula wrong (cf. the Socinians of the sixteenth century, rejecting even the doctrines of the Trinity and Incarnation on grounds of literalist hermeneutics and rejection of metaphysics in theology).

In reaction to the blatant consumerism and anti-historical emphasis of a market-driven ideology of church growth, some have found refuge in edgy formulations such as the “Celtic Way” as an attempt to recover a lost past. But in doing so they have committed fallacies of their own, missing the emphasis of the Reformation on the Word as central to what the church is and does.[9]

Others, dismayed by what C. S. Lewis termed “chronological snobbery,”[10] have attempted to find their roots in a return to liturgical worship, sometimes showing little discernment of the traditions from which they now borrow. Within this reactionary group are others who have sought meaning in church government (emphasizing in one direction, “elders,” or in another, “bishops”). Often the two go together, the re-discovery of the value and historical connectivity of liturgy (and as knee-jerk reaction to the free-for-all democratizing—and therefore “lowest-common-denominator” nature of the modern church) suggesting the need for more authoritative leadership (priests and bishops rather than ruling and teaching elders), downplaying if not altogether denying “the priesthood of all believers” so beloved of the Reformation.

Vatican II (1962-65) succeeded in redefining traditional ecclesiology where the World Council of Churches did not. Siren voices were raised at the time suggesting that little had changed (thus, interestingly, Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger [now, Pope Benedict XVI]). Others (Edward Schillebeeckx) insisted that everything had changed.[11] More recent history has tempered such claims to change and it remains to be seen how wedded the modern Catholic church is to its traditional and sacerdotal nature.

A seemingly potent reaction is now gripping the USA in the form of the “Emergent Church” phenomenon,[12] a movement that thinks that changes in the culture signals that a new church is “emerging.” Central to its philosophy is the idea that cultural accretions have eclipsed the gospel from the present generation. It appears to be a reaction to seeker-sensitive churches and what is felt to be a dilution of gospel priorities on the one hand and a distrust of the institutional church (and its confessionalism) on the other.[13] One of its leaders, Brian McLaren claims to uphold the ancient creedal forms (Nicene, Apostles’), but denies that truth must be articulated in propositional form. It is a movement which ransacks the Christian tradition picking and choosing whatever seems appropriate to form a language that is meaningful to Christians if not objectively true. Concern for propositional truthfulness is an artifact of the modern age. Christianity, according to this movement, must embrace a pluriform understanding. It is the child of our times.

 
[1] John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, Trans. Ford Lewis Battles, 2 vols., Library of Christian Classics, 20-21 (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1960), 2:1012 [ IV.i.1].
[2] In contrast, perhaps, to Catholic Students who might still expect to study at some length what Aquinas called ‘that wonderful and sacred mystery’.
[3] 25:ii. It should be noted again that the qualification was not an attempt to lessen the importance of the church within the divine economy, but to suggest some hope with regard to the death of infants or the fate of those who are incapable of rationally understanding the gospel due to mental impairment. It was not an invitation to so-called ‘anonymous Christianity’.
[4] G. C. Berkouwer, The Church (Grand Rapids, MI.: Eerdmans, 1976), 7.
[5] Donald G. Bloesch, The Church: Sacraments, Worship, Ministry, Mission (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2002), 19, citing Friedrich Schleiermacher, The Christian Faith, ed. H. R. Mackintosh and J. S. Stewart (New York: Harper Row, 1963), I:5.
[6] Friedrich Schleiermacher. On Religion: Speeches to Its Cultured Despisers. Trans. and ed. by Richard Crouter. Cambridge Texts in the History of Philosophy (Cambridge: University of Cambridge Press, 1996).
[7] Such a view stems from more than one source, and involve very different agendas, including the views of Emil Brunner in neo-orthodoxy, Hans Küng in reaction to Catholicism, and the modern charismatic phenomenon emphasizing the return of supposed New Testament apostolic gifts (tongues, prophecy, knowledge, healing etc).
[8] Carl Trueman’s comment, ‘no one should make the mistake of seeing the move to contemporary praise songs and service styles as simply a straightforward, value-neutral repackaging or rebranding of a traditional product’ seems apposite here. The Wages of Spin (Geanies: Mentor, 2005), 23.
[9] See, Donald Meek ‘Modern Celtic Christianity’ in SBET 10 (1992), 6-31, and ‘Modern Celtic Christianity’ in Studia Imagologica: Amsterdam Studies on Cultural Identity 8 (1996), 143-157.
[10] C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life (London: Geoffrey Bles, 1955), 196; and “Nothing is more characteristically juvenile than contempt for juvenility:… youth’s characteristic chronological snobbery.” C. S. Lewis, An Experiment in Criticism (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1961), 73. Lewis borrows the phrase from his friend Owen Barfield who defines it as ‘the presumption, fueled by the modern conception of progress, that all thinking, all art, and all science of an earlier time are inherently inferior, indeed childlike or even imbecilic, compared to that of the present. Under the rule of chronological snobbery, the West has convinced itself that "intellectually, humanity languished for countless generations in the most childish errors on all sorts of crucial subjects, until it was redeemed by some simple scientific dictum of the last century.’ History in English Words (Lindisfarne Press, 1967), 164.
[11] Edward Schillebeeckx, The Church: The Human Story of God (London: SCM Press; New York: Crossroad Publishing, 1990).
[12] See, ‘The Emergent Mystique,’ by Andy Crouch in Christianity Today Novemeber 2004, 36-41.
[13] See, Brian D. McLaren, A Generous Orthodoxy (Zondervan, 2004). “"The last thing I want is to get into nauseating arguments about why this or that form of theology (dispensational, covenant, charismatic, whatever) or methodology (cell church, megachurch, liturgical church, seeker church, blah, blah, blah) is right (meaning approaching or achieving timeless technical perfection)." Shock, obscurity, playfulness, and intrigue often communicate better than clarity has been McLaren’s motto. D. A. Carson’s response (Zondervan, 2005).