Is it Time to Leave the Riffraff for Rome?
Photo by Lespinas Xavier on Unsplash
More than thirty years ago, Wesleyan-holiness theologian Donald Dayton (d. 2020) urged leaders of the World Council of Churches (WCC) to “let the riffraff in.” At the time, the leadership of the ecumenical movement was dominated by representatives from Catholic, Orthodox, and “mainline” Protestant traditions. The “riffraff” that Dayton longed to see acknowledged and welcomed at the ecumenical table, among whom he counted himself, included newer ecclesial communions and theological traditions, especially Wesleyan-holiness and Pentecostal churches.
Dayton believed that the “riffraff” stood to benefit from engagement with their Catholic and Orthodox brothers and sisters from around the world. He also thought that Catholic, Orthodox, and mainline Protestants could learn a thing or two from the “riffraff.” As Christian T. Collins Winn recently put it, Dayton “believed that every tradition has a gift to offer to the wider church.”
Today, the ecumenical movement has lost much of its steam. Many theologians and other church leaders still devote time and energy to ecumenical dialogue, but ecumenism is no longer trending. This is partly due to the success of the movement. Over the last century, the ecumenical movement, spearheaded by the work of the WCC, accomplished a great deal. Unfortunately, many Christians, despite belonging to churches or denominations that are members of the WCC, are unaware of the scope and significance of much of this work.
Arguably, the crowning achievement of the ecumenical movement has been the production of two documents – Confessing the One Faith (1991; revised 2010), and Baptism, Eucharist, and Ministry (1982). Taken together, these documents represent substantial unity in doctrine and worship among the member bodies of the WCC. They identify and describe essential beliefs and practices shared by Catholic, Orthodox, and Protestant Christians around the world. In doing so, they bear witness amid the seeming disunity of the world’s churches to the truth of St. Paul’s declaration that there is “one Lord, one faith, and one baptism” (Ephesians 4:5, NRSV).
A second major contribution of the ecumenical movement is the significant amount of doctrinal reconciliation that it has facilitated. The best example of this work is the Joint Declaration of the Doctrine on Justification (1999), a document endorsed by Catholic and Lutheran bodies. Here, ecumenical dialogue has gone a long way towards healing the deep division in the Western church over the doctrine of justification. More recently, significant progress has been made with respect to division over the filioque clause in the Nicene Creed – a division that dates back to the Great Schism between the Eastern and Western churches in 1054 AD.
In addition to these contributions, the ecumenical movement has had a major impact on Protestant theologians and Protestant theology. Over the last half century or so, Protestant theologians who participated in ecumenical dialogue often developed a deep appreciation for the ecumenical Creeds and councils, patristic and medieval theology, and ancient liturgical and spiritual practices, including ways of reading Scripture (Lectio Divina), and the use of icons in worship and prayer. After encountering the theological and spiritual resources of Catholic and Orthodox Christianity, these theologians often worked tirelessly to introduce those resources to their own churches and traditions.
The best example of this in Wesleyan circles is the work of Thomas Oden (d. 2016). Through his involvement in the ecumenical movement, Oden “discovered” the “Great Tradition” of Christian theology, worship, and spirituality, a tradition symbolized by the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed (381), and embodied in the works of theologians like St. Athanasius, the Cappadocians, St. Augustine, and St. Thomas Aquinas, to name just a few. Indeed, Oden became so captivated by what he liked to call the “consensual” faith of the church catholic, that he spent the last quarter century of his life promoting it within his own beloved United Methodist Church and the wider Wesleyan theological tradition. His three-volume systematic theology, Classic Christianity, and twenty-nine volume Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture stand as monuments to his love for the living faith of the “undivided” church (i.e., the church prior to the Great Schism). But while Oden labored to share the theological, liturgical, and spiritual riches that he discovered in Catholicism and Orthodoxy, he stopped short of “swimming the Tiber.” In other words, he couldn’t quite bring himself to leave the riffraff for Rome.
While Oden remained a Methodist until his death, many Protestant theologians deeply influenced by the ecumenical movement eventually left the churches that had originally nurtured them in the Christian faith. A few, most notably Jaroslav Pelikan, a Lutheran historian of Christian doctrine, and Richard Swinburne, a massively underappreciated Anglican philosophical theologian, became Eastern Orthodox. A more substantial number have left Protestant churches and traditions for the Roman Catholic Church, including Douglas Farrow, Paul Griffiths, Reinhard Hütter, Matthew Levering, Bruce Marshall, Mickey Mattox, Richard John Neuhaus, R. R. Reno, Michael Root, and Gerald Schlabach, to name just a few. Faced with so many “conversions,” the Lutheran theologian Carl Braaten, who helped found Pro Ecclesia, a leading journal on ecumenical theology, cautioned that Protestantism, and especially Lutheranism, was undergoing a “brain drain.”
Why have so many theologians left Protestant traditions and churches for Rome? This is a tricky question to answer. For one thing, the decision to leave one faith tradition for another is always a deeply personal matter. Often, it involves family members and a host of other deeply personal considerations. Moreover, no two “conversion” stories are exactly alike, and most exhibit a mixture of motivating factors. A good place to see this is in Jason Byassee’s “Going Catholic,” a 2006 article published in the Christian Century which documents six Protestant theologians’ journeys to Rome. Also of interest with respect to motivating factors is a more recent article by C. C. Pecknold, an evangelical convert to Catholicism, which discusses the ways in which the work of the Yale based Lutheran theologian George Lindbeck became a bridge across which many have made the journey to Rome. Lindbeck himself died a Lutheran.
When one reads accounts of recent Protestant theologians’ journeys to Rome, a few motivating factors emerge. In most cases, there is a “push” and “pull” dynamic. On the one side, there is often discontent or dissatisfaction with the Protestant traditions or churches from within which their journeys begin. Some converts downplay this, largely out of an honorable desire not to speak negatively about a church or tradition to which they no longer belong. Still, it seems reasonable to ask, if they were completely satisfied both theologically and spiritually within those churches or traditions, why leave? The answer to this question, which will vary from person to person, represents the other side of the equation, namely, the discovery of something even more satisfying in the Catholic Church. Some are captivated by the splendor and beauty of Rome. For others, submitting to the Magisterium resolves deep issues having to do with religious epistemology and authority—issues that are often theologically and spiritually disabling in many Protestant churches. For others still, it comes down to something that most Protestants can relate to, namely, a deep sense that Christ himself has called them home to the Catholic Church.
With respect to this recent trend of Protestant theologians “converting” to Catholicism, what should be of particular interest to Wesleyans is that fact that few, if any, notable Wesleyan theologians have made the journey. To date, the majority of Protestant theologians who have “converted” to Catholicism have come from Lutheran and Anglican traditions. Wesleyan theologians have not been nearly as prone to leave. This is even true of Wesleyan theologians who have been deeply involved in and influenced by ecumenism. For instance, in addition to Donald Dayton and Thomas Oden, William J. Abraham, Albert C. Outler (d. 1989), and Geoffrey Wainwright (d. 2020) have all been active participants in ecumenical dialogue. Moreover, their work exhibits a deep love for and devotion to the living faith of the church catholic. Still, they all stayed put. There simply isn’t a well-worn path from Epworth to Rome. Yet.
It really is astonishing that so few Wesleyan theologians have left the riffraff for Rome. Without naming names, I can assure the readers of Firebrand that this is not because Wesleyan theologians have not been tempted to do so at various stages along the way. But what should concern us in the present moment is the fact that the conditions have never been riper for a Wesleyan “brain drain.” Allow me to explain.
It is well known that the largest Wesleyan denomination in the world, the United Methodist Church, is on the verge of a split. When this happens, United Methodist theologians will have to decide where to go. It would be surprising if none of them took the opportunity to consider all the available options, including Catholicism, Orthodoxy, and nearby Anglicanism. If the car you are presently driving breaks down and is deemed beyond repair, you might decide to replace it with a similar make and model, but you might also look around at other possibilities. In other words, it simply isn’t a foregone conclusion that any given clergy member or lay person will automatically opt for one of the churches that emerges from a split. Wesleyan theologians who have developed a deep love and appreciation for things like the ecumenical creeds and councils, the theology of the early church fathers, the great Eucharistic liturgies (e.g., the Divine Liturgy of Chrysostom), iconography, and other aspects of what Oden called “classical” or “consensual” Christianity might be especially prone to consider other possibilities.
For those who have “discovered” the beauty of the “Great Tradition,” there are serious problems to be faced at both ends of the spectrum. On one end, conservative forms of Wesleyanism are increasingly indistinguishable from generic evangelicalism. It is not always easy to tell the difference between evangelical Wesleyan churches and non-denominational or even Baptist churches. And it isn’t just that they all sing Hillsong praise choruses (though the abandonment of Wesley hymns and other sacred hymnody is a serious concern in its own right). Rather, the deep problem has to do with a growing “restorationist” impulse at the heart of evangelical Wesleyanism. At best, there is indifference to the ecumenical creeds and other confessional materials, as well as to the centrality of the sacraments in Christian worship, the Christian calendar and lectionary, and other resources like iconography or the canon of saints. In the worst cases, there is open hostility to such things. It is not uncommon to hear things like “we have no creed but the Bible!” and “we don’t believe in saints!” Of course, it is a pernicious lie that one cannot love both Holy Scripture and the Christian tradition, and it is odd in the extreme that anyone in a theological tradition known for the doctrine of entire sanctification would hesitate over the notion that, across space and time, the Holy Spirit has so worked in people’s lives, so conforming them to the image and likeness of Christ, that we cannot help but refer to them as saints of the church. St. Athanasius’ On the Incarnation and Life of St. Antony are interlocking parts of a cumulative case argument for the truth of the Gospel. Without the lives of the saints, Christian doctrine is reduced to a set of empty promises.
At the other end of the spectrum, progressive forms of Wesleyanism are equally frustrating to those who have developed a deep love for the ecumenical faith of the church catholic. Here, the chief problem has to do with an unwillingness on the part of episcopal and other denominational leaders to teach and uphold the historic faith of the church. In the worst cases, denominational leaders openly criticize or even reject vital aspects of ecumenical Christianity, including the doctrine of the Trinity, the incarnation and bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ, any serious notion of sin and corresponding practice of repentance, and the importance of discipline and submission in the life of the church. They also fail to take seriously the ethical and moral content of the Christian tradition, most notably natural law. Some progressive Wesleyan leaders, such as those involved in the recent founding of the new Liberation Methodist Connexion denomination view “classical” or “consensual” Christianity as a source of evil and oppression rather than a means of deep healing, reconciliation to God and neighbor, and collective human flourishing. Some charge that, wittingly or not, the purveyors of classical Christianity across the centuries are among the chief architects of empire and systemic and structural evil in the world, including patriarchy, racism, ethnocentrism, and heteronormativity. Far from something to be loved and celebrated, canonical doctrines, materials, and practices at the heart of ecumenical Christianity need drastic revision, if not cancellation.
Given these alternatives, it would not surprise me if Wesleyan theologians who love and cherish the ecumenical faith of the church weigh heavily the possibility of leaving the churches in which they now reside for Rome (or, failing that, Constantinople or Canterbury). Of course, the above descriptions represent the “ends” of the spectrum, but rampant polarization in both the church and the wider culture means that the middle ground between these extremes is under enormous pressure. In some places, the middle ground has already disappeared. Nonetheless, I want to make a case for following the example set by Oden and others. More specifically, I want to urge Wesleyan theologians—indeed, all Wesleyans—not to leave the riffraff for Rome, but to continue working for the recovery of “classical Christianity” within and among the riffraff.
Why should those who have come to cherish ecumenical or classical Christianity stay put? First, there are no problem free situations. Far from it. There is a great deal to admire about Rome and the Christian East. I am personally drawn to Eastern Orthodoxy. I enjoy incense and iconography—the more, the better. I simply love the way in which the Divine Liturgy incorporates all of the senses in worship. I also like standing throughout worship in expectation of Christ’s second coming. I enjoy singing the Nicene Creed. I like watching the priest kiss the Scriptures in the midst of the people. But I also have enough cradle Orthodox friends to know that, for all of the splendor and beauty of the Divine Liturgy, Eastern Orthodox churches are not without their problems. This is not the time or place to get into that. I am simply making the point that it is easy to view other churches and traditions through rose colored glasses when we are frustrated or disappointed with the churches and traditions within which we presently reside.
Second, while the ecumenical movement has succeeded in identifying significant common ground among the world’s churches in both doctrine and practices and healing doctrinal division in several important areas, real differences remain. For example, most Wesleyan churches reject the Catholic doctrines of purgatory and transubstantiation, as well as doctrines related to Mary such as the immaculate conception. There are also significant disagreements over ordination and ministry, including the Catholic Church’s requirement that ministers be celibate, and both the Catholic and Eastern Orthodox refusal to ordain women. Next, there are real differences with respect to church governance and authority. Here, disagreement centers on the role or place of the Bishop of Rome in the church, as Wesleyan communions do not acknowledge papal authority, not to mention papal infallibility. Additionally, there are substantial differences in moral vision. For example, most Wesleyan churches permit some forms of birth control, whereas the Catholic Church opposes all birth control measures. Finally, there are significant liturgical differences, most notably, the number of sacraments to be recognized and celebrated (the Catholic Church has seven sacraments, whereas most Wesleyan churches recognize only two).
The point of noting some of the differences between Wesleyan churches and Rome (and to a somewhat lesser extent the Christian East), is simply to stress that there is a lot of fine print that needs to be read. Leaving Wesleyanism for Rome means taking on board numerous doctrines and practices that are alien to Wesleyan forms of Christianity. Of course, that doesn’t mean that those doctrines are untrue, unjustifiable, or ultimately unreconcilable with core Wesleyan doctrines. It simply means that there are real differences that deserve careful deliberation before swimming the Tiber.
Third, beyond the specific differences just mentioned, there is a meta-issue that needs to be taken very seriously. While Wesleyans are free to consider any and all points of Catholic teaching prior to conversion, the final hurdle that they must eventually get over has to do with submission to the Magisterium. “Converting” to Catholicism ultimately means placing one’s faith in the Magisterium. Following conversion, one is no longer free to make determinations about the truthfulness of Catholic doctrine. Rather, one must work from the assumption that the teaching (doctrina) of the Magisterium is true.
This meta-issue or meta-decision is tricky business, to say the least. For converts to Rome like Cardinal John Henry Newman, submission to the Magisterium is not a hurdle to be cleared. Rather, it is the very thing that makes Rome appealing. The Magisterium, they contend, is a gift from God to the church that secures the reliability of Catholic teaching across space and time. Catholic doctrine is the result of corporate discernment at the episcopal level, whereas Protestant doctrine is the result of private or individual judgment, say, Luther’s, or Wesley’s, or yours or mine. All of that is good so far as it goes, but from a would-be Wesleyan convert’s perspective, there is a crucial dilemma. How does one go about determining whether the Magisterium is in fact God’s special instrument for the apprehension and development of true doctrine? Alternatively, how does a would-be Wesleyan convert determine whether to put her trust in the Magisterium?
With respect to these questions, two considerations are especially relevant. On the one hand, there is the actual teaching of the Magisterium that is, in theory, available for the would-be convert to read and examine. On the other hand, there is the moral character of those who represent the Magisterium across space and time, including in the present day (recall my earlier point about the relationship between doctrine and sanctity).
Where the actual teaching of the Magisterium is concerned, the would-be Wesleyan convert to Rome faces a conundrum. Depending on how one defines it, the Magisterium is a rather large body of teaching, so much so that an evaluation of all of it is simply impractical. Thus, some contend that there is something like a crisis of faith that must accompany one’s conversion – you either trust the Magisterium or you don’t. Personally, I think there is a middle ground to be had between evaluating all the teaching considered part of the Magisterium and blindly trusting the Magisterium without examining any of its teaching. For the would-be Wesleyan convert, it seems reasonable at least to examine Catholic doctrines that Wesleyans have historically rejected with a view toward assessing the reliability of the Magisterium. But notice what is happening here. If the would-be convert insists on examining any of the content of the teaching of the Magisterium, private or personal judgment is involved. Indeed, if one is not prepared simply to accept all of the teaching on blind faith, private or personal judgment isn’t just involved—it is inescapable.
In assessing the reliability or trustworthiness of the Magisterium, one must also consider the moral character of its representatives across space and time, including the present day. To see the importance of this point, an analogy might help. Suppose your local police department insists that it always tells the truth, especially when testifying under oath. Now, let’s also suppose you learn that the same police department has been periodically involved in immoral activity, including, among other things, taking bribes from local gangs known for drug and sex-trafficking. You might justifiably hesitate before simply taking the police chief’s word, even under oath. Similarly, the would-be Wesleyan convert to Rome should at least pause to consider the moral credibility of the Magisterium, especially in light of the recent pedophilia crisis. The only alternative here is to accept a claim that moral virtue or personal sanctity has nothing to do with discerning spiritual or theological truth. Once again, unless one is willing simply to set such matters aside completely, personal judgment is inescapable.
The point of wrestling with this meta-issue or meta-decision concerning the Magisterium is to stress that any decision to leave the riffraff for Rome will involve personal judgment. There is simply no way around assessing the claim that the Magisterium is the special instrument by which God has graced the church with true teaching. Beyond this issue, however, there is another important consideration, namely, what to do with one’s own theological and spiritual journey to date. What is one to make of the status of one’s existing beliefs concerning God, creation, salvation, and the like? What about one’s baptism? Or what about one’s experience of the real presence of Christ in Holy Communion? Or what about one’s belief that the Holy Spirit has sanctified countless persons who have met and come to know and love God through the witness of Wesleyan communions around the world?
As the ecumenical movement has shown, there is considerable agreement concerning the core doctrines of the Christian faith among Protestant, Catholic, and Orthodox churches. Wesleyan churches embrace the ecumenical faith enshrined in the Nicene Creed, as well as a host of other doctrines shared by our Catholic brothers and sisters. Doctrine should therefore only serve as a motivating factor for conversion if one decides that doctrines unique to Catholicism (e.g., purgatory, the immaculate conception of Mary, etc.) are essential to full salvation, which is to say, entire sanctification, or if one decides that doctrines essential to full salvation only contribute to our sanctification when they are accompanied by submission to the Magisterium.
The ecumenical movement has also shown that there are deep similarities in the understanding and practice of baptism, Eucharist, and ministry among Protestant, Catholic, and Orthodox churches. Wesleyans affirm that baptism is a means of grace, and we affirm the real presence of Christ in Holy Communion. The sacraments should therefore only serve as a motivation for conversion if one concludes that sacraments unique to Catholicism (e.g., marriage, holy orders, etc.) are essential to full salvation, or that our partaking of Christ’s body and blood is only sanctifying when the elements are consecrated at a Catholic table.
Wesleyan churches belong to the church catholic, which is to say, to that body whose head is the Lord himself. And just as one spiritual gift is not greater than another, so too, Christ’s body cannot be divided into “greater” and “lesser” parts. Christ’s presence makes the church. And Christ is not less present among the riffraff than among those who worship in Rome. Moreover, the same Spirit who is present and at work in Rome is present and at work among us Wesleyans, giving generously the gift of faith in Jesus Christ, sanctifying us through the means of grace, and cultivating in our hearts a deep and fervent love for God and neighbor. How do I know this? The lives of the saints readily found among the Wesleyan riffraff across the centuries and around the world bear witness to it!
Dr. Jason Vickers is Professor of Theology at Asbury Theological Seminary. He serves on the Editorial Board for Firebrand.