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Why ecumenism is bad, too

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Lots of words ending in “ism” are bad. Fundamentalism. Radicalism. Racism. Schism. But they’re certainly not all bad: Altruism. Prism. Arminianism.

Ecumenism is one of the things that gets bandied about as an intrinsically good thing. I’m a massive supporter of it: where possible, things should be done together with other Christians regardless of minor doctrinal differences. If we believe we make up one body, we certainly should act like it. That’s the idea behind ecumenism – and that sure is a great idea.

ecumenism

Photo: Bob Jones, reused under CC license

However, in branding an event “ecumenical”, or in trying to be deliberately ecumenical, we are not only recognising our differences, we are exacerbating them. A friend of mine, openly Protestant, once attended a Catholic fellowship group. As it turned out, all that was talked about was points of disagreement (Immaculate Conception, sola scriptura, etc.) Now all ecumenical events do not have to be like that. Thankfully, most insist on the commonalities rather than on the disagreements. Yet even then, if the event is branded as ecumenical, the denominational differences are likely to end up as the proverbial elephant in the room. The differences we try to bridge through ecumenism become all the more visible in the end.

Therefore, before we go out of our way to be openly ecumenical, we should make sure that there are differences between the groups involved, lest we create more divisions than we bridge. Worse still, if we do, we may make it impossible to do stuff together outside of the “ecumenical” label.

I fervently believe the aims of ecumenism (the visible unity of Christ’s people), just like those of mission, are best served by a “belong before you believe” attitude: unity will come from people from an unspecified variety of backgrounds hanging out together and just knowing each other as Christians. Crucially, denomination-membership is no prerequisite to hanging out together; and therefore, it is unlikely to be branded “ecumenical”. And a side effect of this is that there may not be many clearly defined theological statements.

Even in this approach, though, deliberate ecumenism can be dangerous. Not that the absence of a clear theological outlook means that the individuals see their own faith falter, or that the ecumenical action is devoid of any meaning. Of course not. Going to church does not mean celebrating all specific doctrinal points that the local church adheres to; or at least not every Sunday!

No – the potential danger concerns the rest of our activities, those done within the limited circle of our own local church and denomination.

I have been working in a school for the past year. Now in a school the staff is not made up of only teachers: there’s also admin, janitorial staff, pastoral care team, etc. Be that as it may, the teachers, naturally, tend to hang out together (this isn’t helped by the teachers having their specific staff room). Interaction between us and the rest of the staff often remains on a professional level. In the cafeteria, the teachers sit and eat together, and admin and the pastoral care team usually sit at another table.

I don’t like that separation. We are a team, and I feel this should not be limited to dealing with students. So I occasionally try to bridge that separation and deliberately spend more time with non-teachers. This makes it sound like it’s a chore, so let me insist that it isn’t! The staff at my school are all lovely and have been a true blessing to me this year.

But I’m left to wonder how it might feel to the teachers. When I’m deliberately eating at the non-teachers table, it also appears that I’m deliberately not eating with them. The time spent “ecumenically”, as it were, is also time not spent with my natural group. Now, in the case of my school, there is little tension between the two groups (outside of crises, of course); and so there’s no risk of being branded an apostate/traitor/heretic who’s defected to the other side.

Still, there were moments of unease or incomprehension as to why, say, I wasn’t eating with the teachers. They were short-lived, but they are telling of a crucial problem with ecumenism. When done indiscriminately, it can end up as a one-person initiative which ends up sowing discord within the individual groups themselves. This is how I had to walk the rather fine line between spending time with teachers and with non-teachers, gradually bringing the two together. Needless to say, this could not be done without the willingness of both the teachers and the non-teachers!

And so it is with ecumenism. It must not be done at the expense of the groups’ individual life, and must be grounded in both. If we are to be a bridge between two denominations, we cannot simply hover in thin air: we need foundations. On both sides. And for these foundations to be strong, it is vital that the ecumenical drive be not perceived as a departure, but as a bringing together.

Let us take the example of the recent vote, in the Church of England to have women bishops. Some voiced concerns that it would make unity with the Roman Catholic church more difficult. This unity is a laudable aim, but my contention is that, in this matter, it is secondary. Secondary because a large majority of the Church of England (as expressed in the synod votes) is in favour of women bishops and that it is an important issue to many within the CofE. Inner harmony comes before bridge building, or the bridge will lead to nothing.

8 things ecumenism is not

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Ecumenism, its purposes and its nature, seem sometimes arcane. But deeply, to me, ecumenism is highly important because it is an attempt to reflect the unity of the Body of Christ in the way we conduct worship: with one another. So here are a few things I’ve found ecumenism is not:

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Photo: Yyaroshko (Wikimedia, under CC license)

1. Ecumenism is not a watering down of doctrine. It is not about trying to find the essence of Christianity and venturing no further. See, our faith is (or should be) so pervasive as to tint our every action. Therefore, sticking our ecumenical thought to what we deem essential and not saying anything about the rest is tantamount to restricting ecumenism to a tiny part of who we are.

2. Ecumenism is not about pretending we have no differences, or at least no substantial differences. It is not about burying our head in the sand and inviting others to follow our practice; nor is it about blindly following other practices by pretending they’re all the same anyway. Such an attitude is presumptuous at best, and maybe damaging – especially around issues of communion. The Body of Christ is made up of a variety of organs; that diversity should be embraced at least to some extent, rather than glossed over as “something for another day”.

3. Ecumenism is not about glorifying those differences either. The differences are there, but we are all looking towards God. And in ecumenism, we are looking towards Him together.

3. Ecumenism is not inter-faith. It’s not talking with people who are assumed to be radically different. In “doing” ecumenism, we are joining our brothers and sisters in worshiping the same God: it is joint action, and relies on an ultimately common understanding of God.

4. Ecumenism is not an excuse for evangelism. The only attitude that can be had in ecumenical events is one of brotherhood. Yes, teaching can happen, discussions can happen – and it would be a sad thing if they didn’t! After all, it wouldn’t be much of a congregation if people didn’t talk with one another, or rebuked one another. But while such disagreements and ensuing discussions are welcome, they are not the main thrust of ecumenical action.

5. Ecumenism is not about striving for peace. Peace is far more easily achieved through mutual ignorance anyway!

6. Ecumenism is not done for the sake of being nice. Who cares about niceties? We have plenty of other people to be nice to. It’s not for the sake of looking lovey-dovey and politically correct either! No, it is done because we are one body, one church, and we should sometimes start acting like it.

7. Ecumenism is not about dialogue. It’s not a question of “understanding the other” better, or of debating thorny theological points with one another. Imagine this: Calvinists and Arminians belonging to separate bodies, and joining together – and all the event revolving around predestination! There would be a point in that, granted – any discussion on predestination is welcome – but is it really everything Christians talk about? Surely not! Then why make it the main point of a joint event?

8. Ecumenism is not trumping other church activities. I see ecumenism as an outlook, an attitude which, yes, comes through in some specific events. And in an ideal world, this attitude should shine through regular church activities. But in the event it does not, there is little point going towards the outside at the expense of the inside.

The Christian View

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What’s the Christian view on homosexuality? What’s the Christian view on female leadership? What’s the Christian view on war?

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Sometimes, people ask these questions with a genuine desire to understand the worldview of their Christian friends. Sometimes, people ask these questions to be able to judge and label specific groups as homophobic/antiquated/liberal/hippies. People tend to be far too ready to answer these questions.

For the more controversial cases, some will call it the “Biblical view” – cunningly suggesting that those who do not hold the same view are automatically Bible-shunning heretics. In doing so, they are using the Bible to shut down a conversation, where it could be use to spark one. Others will suggest that the issue at hand is “secondary doctrine”. But calling something secondary is making a statement: you wouldn’t expect a Catholic to think of transubstantiation as secondary doctrine.

The three questions that I have started this post with have different levels of dissension within the mainstream Christian church. Same-sex marriage has been welcomed by Quakers and others, but adamantly fought against by some Evangelicals. Anglicans are a divided house when it comes to female episcopate. Quakers would see pacifism as part of their identity, but C.S. Lewis points out there is such a thing as just war. I would never dream to seriously suggest that Quakers, Evangelicals, Anglicans, C.S. Lewis, or Catholics aren’t Christians.

Does that mean that, in a post-modern way, there is no ultimate truth? Certainly not! Jesus says of himself he is the truth. Singular truth. There is no doubting, then, that there is one single truth. Some will say the Bible, as originally given, is the ultimate authority on matters of behaviour. But that is assuming that our access to the “original Bible” is unbiased and, somehow, superior to others’. Isn’t that both a display of pride and of judgement of others?

What then? Are we to shirk away from making any absolute statement? By no means! If you feel it is the case, do say that women should or should not be in leadership in the church. Do say that the Bible is against homosexuality, or is pointing towards acceptance of homosexuality. After all, what you believe may well be the truth! But in all cases, be prepared to listen to the other point of view; and in no case declare a view to make its holder non-Christian. Exclusion from the body of Christians is Biblical, but it always happens in conversation with the potential non-Christian. 

What is, then, the Christian view? It is a submissive worldview that sees Christ as King and Saviour. I am unwilling to restrict the Christian worldview by elaborating further on this. Yes, the Westboro Baptist Church share that view (I think). As do Christadelphians, Unitarians, Mormons, Anglicans, Catholics, Evangelicals. This minimal approach might not allow us to dissociate ourselves from those who seem to behave in a way that seems so unloving to us (although it does not mean we should seek to worship with them – other criteria come into play there); and so it might not be quite as comfortable. But it will, I’m sure, bring us closer to the truth.

Simply being

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Catholics and Protestants differ on a variety of points; and on the relative importance of these points. To a Catholic, the sacrament of the Eucharist is primordial, but a Protestant can easily have communion once a month, if that. To a Protestant, there is a wealth of Catholic doctrines that sound heretical; but I suspect that stuff like the Immaculate Conception is about as abhorrent to most Protestants as an Arminian point of view is to Calvinists: in short, there are disagreements, but not to the point of considering the other non-Christian.

simplybeing

Photo: Andrea Schaffer, re-used under CC license

There is, however, one particular difference around which passions are unleashed. Protestants tend to be adamant about sola fide, salvation through faith alone, at the exclusion of works before and after conversion; whereas Catholics would tend to argue that works after conversion are a way unto salvation (1). And yet Protestants and Catholics alike agree on the good nature of works, and on their necessity after conversion: after all, faith without works is dead.

Works are an expression of an identity

I see works after faith as an expression of a new identity: one of a people redeemed and unconditionally loved, with a drive to serve God and neighbour. If it is the expression of an identity, then, it is not a karma-like tally of good versus bad deeds, where grace might be so diminished to prevent salvation or increased to the point of making the cross unnecessary.

Seeing works as the expression of my identity as Christians has a few implications:

1. Firstly, an identity is a pervasive element. It is permanently active, and these works do not happen at pre-determined times. Being a Christian is not a Sunday-only thing; but far more than that, it’s not a Sunday and midweek church/Christian Union-only thing. It is rather unsurprising, then, that we are told to pray at all times.

2. Secondly, an identity has an arguably predominant interactive element. The way in which it is displayed depends on who is around us. It doesn’t mean being two-faced about what we say depending on our entourage, but it does mean that we should adapt our action to those around us. Not just in style (although that is important too) but also in nature. See, that’s a major part of the Incarnation: that Jesus’s heart goes out to people, not simply to situations.

Being a Christian means being available

I think that if we start seeing works in that way, we will also start to try to be Christians rather than to do Christian stuff. Part of that means we should avoid being busy. That’s not to say that we should be idle. Quite the contrary! But we should be interruptible and available. We should be able to consider our works as who we are when we are not doing anything.

Otherwise, our identity will become what we do, and pride will be just around the corner from that.

(1) For a more detailed, yet probably more headache-inducing account of the commonalities and differences of Catholic/Protestant beliefs, read Hooker

What are your views?

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This has the appearance of an inviting question. One where whoever is asking is interested in what the other person’s position in a debate. I’ve been asked that question on a variety of occasions.

On same-sex marriage.

On predestination.

On transubstantiation.

On pre- or post-lactarianism.

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Asking it, though, is making a double statement. On the one side, when I ask it, I admit that other views than my own are held. There’s little surprise, then, that people tend to enquire about my views on divisive issues.

But on the other side, when I hear someone answer that question, one of two things happen. Either they seem to fall on “my” side of the debate and I think “great” and get excited that someone agrees with me. Or they hold a different view, and then I directly consider that other view as something which is essentially alien. I box it in as “the opinion of someone else”, which does not affect me at all. I end up only using it to label the other person as a defender of “the other side” and, once I’ve done that, I can use that label as an excuse to dismiss anything they might have to say.

It’s a natural tendency we have always had. We try to form bonds and to associate with those who agree with us. We tend to listen to those who agree with us, and to build walls against those who disagree with us. But if we keep on doing that – and in a connected world, it is much easier to do so – we will never truly communicate.

Of course, there are sometimes legitimate reasons for you to ask about my views; or for me to ask about your views. But in those cases, the phrasing is awkward at best, and at its worst, it encourages the subconscious use of labels and the dismissal of their answer – from the moment onwards when I’ve found a label to attach them to.

So if I want to make you a cup of tea just the way you like it, I might ask “How do you take your tea?”, rather than “What are your views on pre- or post-lactarianism?” (1). If I have a hard time understanding how a loving God might predestine some people to hell; and how an almighty God leaves room for free will; I might just state those problems and ask “Can you help me to understand this?” rather than ask “What are your views on predestination?” In short, involve yourself in the conversation.

And if you’re on the receiving end of a “what are your views” question, be careful not to box yourself in. Do not start the answer as “I’m a Calvinist” or “I’m an Arminian” (I sometimes do, but that’s as a last recourse), and avoid being put in a box. Resist answering the question and ask why they are asking the question. Involve them (and their views). A deep, meaningful conversation is quite likely to follow.

If we are called to unity (in diversity!) let’s not try to create dividing lines where they are unnecessary and unhelpful. Let us speak with one another, informing one another in love.

So in the coming week, why not try to make sure that when you’re asking someone for their views on an issue, you’re not just trying to box them in?

(1) By the way, unless the tea is brewed in the mug, only pre-lactarianism is correct. But we must show mercy to the unenlightened post-lactarians.