Event: Creation, Nature, and Grace: Catholics and Reformed in Dialogue

Dates:  28 & 29 April 2023

Location: Angelicum, Aula Minor

Schedule:

Friday, 28 April

11:00 Welcome and Introduction

11:05 – 13:15  What is Creation and How Do We Know About It?
– Simon Oliver (Durham University)
– Mariusz Tabaczek, OP (Angelicum)

14:00-16:15  Original Righteousness, Nature and Grace before the Fall?
– John Bowlin (Princeton Theological Seminary)
– Simon Gaine, OP (Angelicum)

16:30-19:00  Image of God and the Effects of Sin
– Michael Allen (Reformed Theological Seminary)
– Euan Grant (University of St. Andrews)

Saturday, 29 April

11:00-13:15 Christ the Fulfilment of Creation: How So?
– Oliver Crisp (University of St. Andrews)
– Aaron Pidel, SJ (Marquette University)

14:00-16:15  Created Mediations: Is the Church a Part of Creation?
– Hyacinthe Destivelle, OP (Angelicum)
– Keith Johnson (Reformed Theological Seminary)

16:30-18:45 Eschatology as First Philosophy: What Ends for Creation?
– Judith Wolfe (University of St. Andrews)
– Bruce McCormack (Princeton Theological Seminary)

Summary of the day: Both reformed and Roman Catholic Christians agree on the fundamental Scriptural claim that the human being is made in the image of God but also affected by the consequences of original sin and that the same human being can be re-created by the grace of Christ. However, historical disagreements also exist about original righteousness, the effects of sin, and the natures of justification and sanctification. This conference seeks to bring together contemporary Catholic and reformed theologians of the highest qualifications to discuss creatively the existence convergences and ongoing relational differences between reformed and Roman Catholic interpretations of the Christian revelation. The aim is to model a genuine ecumenical dialogue marked by the recognition of historical differences and the acception of them in the midst of the search for common truths. All are welcome to attend. Sponsored by the Agape McDonald Foundation.

Registration: https://forms.gle/Fe66BBf1A7r5W8197

Event site link.

I confess I’m not one for exotic vacations. Before we were married, I joked with my wife that I would be perfectly happy to go on a mission trip to some unchurched land for our honeymoon; she, being the more reasonable one, wasn’t so thrilled with the idea. The very last thing I wanted was to sit on some Caribbean beach, casually sipping daiquiris and wasting away the hours in some otherwise poverty-stricken country. 

It’s highly ironic, then, that my family for three years lived in Thailand, ground zero for exotic beach destinations in Southeast Asia, with its pristine, warm-to-the-touch, cerulean waters, its cheap yet delicious cuisine, and its effusively welcoming hospitality industry. Since returning to the United States, we have often been asked by friends or acquaintances what we liked best about Thailand. Surely its vacation spots, food, or foreign culture is the expected answer. They are taken aback when I tell them the best thing about Bangkok is its predominantly Christian asylum-seeker community.

A Haven for Asylum Seekers

I was entirely unaware that the Asian metropolis had such a community when my family arrived in the summer of 2014. Like most expats who move to Thailand, we had been told to expect sky bars, spicy food, and some of the best beaches in the world just a short jaunt away. We bought a car with the expectation of taking weekend excursions south to Pattaya or Hua Hin, or northward to the elephant-populated national parks. But our very first Sunday at the Catholic parish nearest to our residence exposed us to a very different expat experience.

In a city like Bangkok, one would expect to see a diverse, multinational crowd at any downtown church. There were large numbers of Thais at the church we attended, but also many Westerners, Filipinos, and Africans, and a significant minority of South Asians as well. I introduced myself to one who was distributing bulletins in the outdoor vestibule. He was from Pakistan—as were the other fifteen members of his family, natives of the megalopolis of Karachi who had fled persecution at the hands of Muslim extremists. 

His name was Wilson, and we quickly developed a friendship, his humble and gracious personality—and that of his family—being spiritually magnetic. As my family and his became friends, we learned remarkable details regarding their exodus story. They had been a large, well-respected, middle-class Catholic family in Karachi. Wilson and his wife were both registered nurses; his brother was a medical doctor. 

Trouble started when Pashtun migrants—the same ethnicity as the Taliban who dominate the westernmost provinces of the country—began to harass Wilson’s family. They falsely accused his brother of desecrating a Koran, an offense that often triggers mob violence. The brother fled the country. Two nieces were then abducted and set on fire. I can attest to the veracity of their story: they showed me the burn marks on their torsos. A sister was threatened, went into hiding, and was never heard from again, presumably abducted or killed. So Wilson, with the aid of his bishop, acquired passports for his entire family and took a one-way flight to Bangkok.

Why Bangkok? Because, for more than a decade, the city has been known as a haven for asylum seekers and refugees from across Asia and Africa. Precisely because its economy relies so heavily upon tourism, Thailand has maintained a notoriously relaxed entry policy: visitors can easily acquire a 30-day visa upon arrival. Those same visitors can quite effortlessly overstay their visa without attracting much attention from the Thai authorities. Thus, all manner of people—from religious and ethnic minorities to political dissidents to economic migrants—have made their way to Thailand. Many are from Pakistan, but I also met people from Burma, Sri Lanka, Somalia, Ethiopia, Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, and the former Soviet republics of central Asia. 

Ecumenism in Charity at the IDC

For many, including Wilson’s family, getting into the country is just the first step in the long and arduous process of obtaining official refugee status. Once the Wilsons made friends found friends at church willing to help them find housing, they applied for such status to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR). This process can take years, with the very real possibility that one’s application will be rejected in the end, in which case there is little choice but to return home. In the interim, one is deemed an “asylum seeker,” meaning that he has no formal legal status in the host country, and thus is entirely subject to the whims of the local police and security services. In this respect, Wilson’s family are some of the lucky ones—they have never been apprehended by the Thai police and taken to the infamous international detention center, or IDC.

As my wife and I opened up to more Christian asylum seekers at our parish, we encountered some who had either spent time in the IDC or were under serious threat of being detained there. With the asylum-seeker population estimated to number well over 10,000, the Thai authorities have plenty of targets to choose from. One such person, Michael, along with his wife and three children, became very dear to us. Michael was one of the most pious people I had ever met. He and his wife made and sold rosaries after church. He often journeyed from their one-bedroom apartment across town to attend daily Mass—a dangerously long pilgrimage for someone trying to avoid the authorities. After Mass, he would solemnly make his way to the altar, where he would kneel, hold his rosary aloft, and loudly offer a litany of prayers, begging Jesus to intervene on behalf of his family. When their refugee application was denied, Michael decided to turn himself and his family into the IDC.

We immediately began visiting Michael and his family at the IDC. The scene was emotionally and spiritually overwhelming. Every weekday, visitors like ourselves, carrying all kinds of foods and other goods, lined up at 10:00 a.m. to meet with the detainees, while Thai authorities barked at us, moved us from place to place, and often rejected various items that we had brought, seemingly with no reason. Scores of prisoners in orange prison clothes would then be corralled into a long hall behind a wire fence to see their visitors. Individuals on the two sides would take turns shouting at each other, trying to be heard above the din of a hundred other voices.

It was during those initial trips to the IDC that we began to recognize the ecumenical response to Bangkok’s asylum-seeker crisis. One group of women—all members of the Church of Latter Day Saints—scheduled remarkably well-organized weekly visits to the detention center, maintaining an extensive log of all the detainees they knew inside (some Mormon, but many others Catholic, Evangelical, Orthodox, or even Muslim) and of when those detainees had last been visited. The ladies brought a plethora of supplies to the jail: fruit, noodles, cookies, juice—all kinds of little luxuries the prison authorities would never serve the inmates. 

My wife and a close Evangelical friend frequently joined the LDS ladies on their weekly visits. When I could arrange leave from work, I would accompany them. In a small coffee shop across the street from the IDC, groups would congregate to prepare supplies for various inmates. There I met an Evangelical missionary from Texas who had brought along his teenage children. “I want them to see this so they understand how much an American passport is really worth,” he told me. 

Another time, while exchanging high-decibel words with our Pakistani friends through the wire fence, I noticed a group of young American Evangelicals reading Scripture to a group of Pakistani Evangelical asylum seekers—in Urdu, with an Urdu-language Bible. I once saw a woman from my parish at the IDC, later discovering that she periodically led a group of French Charismatic Catholics to visit inmates. Yet again I witnessed a visitor and an inmate who I presumed were speaking Russian (the inmate had Orthodox iconography tattooed on his body) try in vain to persuade the Thai authorities to allow a pack of cigarettes to be passed across the fence. This was truly an international and ecumenical operation!

Things Different, Things Shared

Over the course of three years, refugees and asylum seekers became some of our closest friends in Bangkok. This is not to say that we enjoyed the kind of relational or conversational familiarity that so easily exists between people of the same culture. Communication between us and those we sought to know—and help—was always difficult. There was, of course, the language barrier, with most of them speaking broken or limited English. There were also socio-economic barriers—what does a middle-class white American talk about with poor, marginalized asylum-seekers from across Asia and Africa? “How was your week? You spent it trying to avoid the Thai authorities, looking for menial jobs, and eating the same rice and noodles every day? Wonderful! How was mine? Well, I got to go wherever I pleased, spent an evening stressed out about my backhand slice, drank beer at a nice skybar . . .”

All the same, we sought to connect with and enter into their lives. Smiles, greetings, questions about the health of family members, and jokes about a priest’s homilies were all an effort to show that we loved them, that we were on their side. Our children played together after church. Pakistani families would make us traditional food to take home—it was so spicy I was often the only one who would eat it. In time, we discovered how much we shared with them—yes, we had different sufferings, different hopes, different needs; but we also shared sufferings, hopes, and needs. 

One such suffering involved my wife, who has celiac disease. This means that in receiving Holy Communion in many places around the world, she needs to drink from the chalice to avoid eating too much gluten. In Thailand, the disease is practically unheard of, and many Thais, including some priests, scoffed at what they perceived was an attempt to get special white-person treatment. Yet Pakistani asylum-seeker altar servers every week ensured that the celebrating priest reserved a small cup of wine for my wife. My family was incapable of helping with their biggest appeal—to be ensured of a “refugee” designation by UNHCR—but we could assist with the little stuff: drafting an email in polished English, conducting research on the Internet, donating used clothes.

Investing in this community was not always convenient. Many times, as I left the church after weekday Mass, usually in a hurry to make a meeting at work, asylum seekers would approach me begging for money. Often the request would come with a heartbreaking story I simply did not have time to hear. At other times, the stories bordered on the humorous. Once an Ethiopian Orthodox man approached me on the street to tell me his story—one marked by adventure, loss, and poverty. He concluded by telling me: “You’ve been to Ethiopia. You know our faith in Christ. You know people from my country don’t lie.” As if an entire nationality could claim perfect fidelity to the Ninth Commandment!

Ultimately, the experience fundamentally changed the way my family viewed our calling as followers of Christ. In the many poor, persecuted Christians we encountered at church and in the IDC, we saw the face of Christ. Indeed, it was through our attempts to suffer alongside our tortured brethren that we were thrust into some of our deepest, if not most painful, spiritual moments. In the wounds and scars of Pakistani Christians, we discovered those of our Savior. Is this not what we should expect from a Lord who so intimately identified himself with his Church? It was indeed Christ who asked the Pharisee of Pharisees on the road to Damascus: “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” (Acts 9:4, emphasis added). With such an epiphany, how could we not rush to serve our Lord himself, who declared, “Whatever you did for the least of my brethren, you did it to me” (Matt. 25:45)?

Staying & Leaving

Eventually our three years in Thailand approached their conclusion. While some of our Pakistani friends remained there, others—maybe providentially—also found their time in Bangkok reaching an end. The Wilson family’s application to UNHCR was rejected, as was their subsequent appeal. Yet there they stayed, week in, week out, serving at the church and praying that one of the rumors that some other country (Canada? The Netherlands?) might take them in would prove true. After the 2016 U.S. presidential election, Wilson pulled me aside after weekday Mass. “I hear your new president is a very holy man, and that he will allow us to come to America,” he said. “No,” I hesitated, “I don’t think that’s quite accurate.” A week before we left Bangkok, I was welcomed into his home to share one last lunch on the floor of one of the three small rooms that constituted the entire Wilson family residence. We talked, we prayed, we took pictures, and I departed entrusting their fate to our gracious Lord.

For Michael and his family, eight months in the IDC were enough. Every family member had suffered some type of debilitating sickness, their son so terribly that a Filipina benefactress persuaded the Thai authorities to allow the boy—quite unconventionally—to be transferred to her care. Just as my own family was preparing for our trans-Pacific move, Michael declared to me that he had lost hope that staying in Thailand was a better option than returning to Pakistan—conditions in the IDC were that terrible. 

Within a few days, we, in coordination with an extended network of faithful friends representing a dozen nationalities across many time zones, worked to arrange all the necessary documents and funds required to ensure the family’s safe return to their native land. I even temporarily became the guardian of Michael’s son before he was returned to his family—some Thai immigration ministry form, now probably locked away in a forgotten filing cabinet, attests to that fact, with my signature! A few days before my own family departed Thailand, Michael, his wife, and their three children boarded a plane back to Karachi, back into the jaws of the persecutors who had driven them out of the country five years before.

Caring Across Traditions

As we returned to our own native land, far removed from our persecuted, imprisoned, or impoverished brethren, several thoughts stirred in my unwary soul and reverberated in my muddled intellect. On the one hand, I was inspired by how the plight of the oppressed had served as the impetus for such beautiful ecumenical moments, when a common call to care for Christ and his Church had drawn people from such varied religious, national, and linguistic backgrounds to the same places and faces. Catholics, Evangelicals, and Mormons were all at one point on Michael’s visitor list at the IDC. Never once during all those visits did anyone bother to debate or condemn another religious tradition. We were simply too busy doing the work of Christ to bother with something that seemed—by comparison—so peripheral. 

This is not to say that debate and criticism isn’t a healthy, essential aspect of ecumenism. Indeed, I would never endorse an indifferentism that elides the essential differences between Catholicism and other religious traditions. Ecumenism, properly understood, does not mean that we downplay or ignore our theological and ecclesial divisions, which are real, and are impediments to realizing true unity. Nor does it mean that Catholics should in any way compromise their faith when interacting with members of other faith traditions, which would undermine the Church’s witness as one, holy, catholic, and apostolic in an era which so desperately needs Catholicism’s theological coherence, clarity, and integrity. Ecumenism means charting an authentic middle way between the extremes of capitulating to an indifferentism that views other religions as simply a different manifestation of our own, and viewing people of other religious traditions as scorned members of a lower caste, as Jews in the New Testament viewed Samaritans.  Ecumenism means identifying, acknowledging, and debating our differences, often passionately, but also recognizing that there are times when collaboration in works of mercy can accomplish some greater good. Indeed, that effort itself is a way of making progress in the divine mandate to follow Christ, be His witness, and pursue the unity He prayed for in John 17. People are more open to learning about our own unique faith tradition when they have reason to trust us, and when we have earned social capital with them.

Sometimes certain realities — like the existential threats to Christians — must force us to reevaluate and re-contextualize our differences and work to ensure that all those who identify as Christian are not overrun by the forces of evil. Such has been the clarion call of Christian ecumenical movements since the First Crusade, Lepanto, and the Second World War. Alexios I Komnenos, Pope Pius V, and Dietrich Bonhoeffer all shared a common ability to perceive the kinds of danger that threatened the very survival of anyone identifying as a Christian. I discerned that same aptitude in so many of the interactions I had with men and women across the spectrum of Christianity in Bangkok.

On the other hand, this unique ecumenical experience, aimed at addressing the needs of the persecuted and the marginalized, helped me see the biblical roots of just such a mission. Scripture is filled with stories of immigrant peoples in need of a haven: Abraham fled to Egypt during a great famine (Gen. 12:10); the entire Israelite community, numbering 70 people, later fled once again to Egypt in the face of another famine (Gen. 42–47); and David, on the run from King Saul, sought asylum with the king of Gath (1 Sam. 21:10). Most importantly, the Holy Family fled the murderous King Herod by seeking refuge in Egypt (Matt. 2:13–23). 

My point is not political—all pro-immigration policies are not inherently divinely sanctioned, nor are anti-immigration policies de facto censured by the biblical record—but the desire to help asylum seekers and refugees, which was evident in every Christian tradition I encountered in Thailand, suggests to me that God has placed deeply in any soul singed by his Holy Spirit a passion for the lost, the oppressed, and the wayfaring. The current political atmosphere in America, which defines our own immigration debate, had, I think, clouded my ability to see that prior to my time in Thailand. 

Since return stateside in 2017, my family has been eager—anxious, even—to locate those in this truly blessed and prosperous land who, whether their suffering is religious, economic, or political, are in need of a friend. Indeed, our Lord has called us to that very task. Yet if I’m entirely honest, I admit that I need such persons more than they need me, for it is in their faces that I discover the face of the risen Lord.

Steven Nemes

Why Remain Protestant?: Part I

Steven has presented his argument in two parts, one video for each part. Below I lay out and respond to the arguments in Part 1, and then do the same for Part II. All quotations from Steven’s videos are referenced by the minute from which they are taken from the video from which they are taken.

Steven’s first argument for why Protestants should remain Protestant begins with the claim that the “Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Churches associate themselves with particular teachers in a way that goes contrary to Christ’s teaching.” (2′) To defend this claim he refers (3′) to Matthew 23:8-10, where Christ says, “But you are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all students. And call no one your father on earth, for you have one Father — the one in heaven. Nor are you to be called instructors, for you have one instructor, the Messiah.”

After describing how Christ’s words applied to the Scribes and Pharisees (5′ – 9′), Steven then claims that while the Catholic Church agrees that “in the truest and ultimate sense” that there is only one teacher, namely, Christ, in practice the Catholic Church contradicts this by prioritizing “tradition to Scripture.” (9′) He adds that the Catholic Church “set[s] up teachers alongside Christ, contrary to what Christ says to His disciple.”(9′) Here he is referring to the Magisterium, namely, the Pope and the bishops in communion with him.¹ Steven then claims that Catholics put bishops “alongside Christ rather than under Him as His students.” (10′-11′) He claims that the Catholic church puts forward “certain students as though they were just as reliable as the Teacher Himself, namely the holy fathers and the Magisterium of the Church when speaking under certain conditions.” (12′)

In order to explain the flaw in Steven’s argument, I need to say something first about the Catholic understanding of the relation between Scripture and sacred tradition. In the Catholic tradition we rightly approach Scripture in the Church and through sacred tradition. That is because in the Catholic tradition, Scripture belongs to the Church, and comes to us through the Church, and through the shepherds Christ has established in His Church. This relation between Scripture and the Church is illustrated by the fact that the Church determined which books belong to the canon of Scripture and which do not. Although scholars can and do study Scripture as if it is not sacred, and outside of its ecclesial context, nevertheless, as a sacred text it belongs properly to the divinely established community who received it, namely, the Church, and is understood rightly according to the tradition handed down within that community. This is a very different paradigm from the Protestant paradigm regarding the interpretation of Scripture. See, for example, my essay “The Tradition and the Lexicon.”

This paradigm difference can be seen in Tertullian’s statement that “heretics ought not to be allowed to challenge an appeal to the Scriptures, since we, without the Scriptures, prove that they have nothing to do with the Scriptures.”² Hence as I wrote in my dialogue with Michael Horton in 2010:

Tertullian here shows that those who are not in communion with the Apostolic Churches have no right to appeal to Scripture to defend their positions, because the Scriptures belong to the bishops to whom the Apostolic writings were entrusted by the Apostles. Since the Scriptures belong to the bishops, those not in communion with those bishops in the universal Church have no right to challenge what the bishops say that the Scriptures teach. The sacred books do not belong to them, but to the bishops to whom the Apostles entrusted them. Since the Scriptures belongs to the bishops and have been entrusted to them, they have the right and authority to determine its authentic and authoritative interpretation.

In the Catholic tradition heresy is not determined by interpreting Scripture apart from Scripture and sacred tradition, and then measuring candidate doctrines against one’s interpretation of Scripture. Rather, before we even get to the interpretation of Scripture, we have to consider to whom Scripture belongs, who has the authority to determine how it is to be interpreted, and by what rule or tradition it is to be interpreted.

Now consider Steven’s argument. Steven is making use of a notion from the Protestant tradition, according to which Scripture is not to be understood through what Catholics understand as sacred tradition, to arrive at an interpretation of Matthew 23:8-10. In Steven’s interpretation of Matthew 23:8-10, based on this Protestant notion, to be a student of Christ entails not having Magisterial authority, and not having what the Catholic Church refers to as the gift of infallibility, since those two qualities would place certain students of Christ “on the same level as the Teacher.” (13′) On the basis of this notion from the Protestant tradition regarding how to approach and interpret Scripture, Steven infers that what Jesus said in Matthew 23 in criticism of the way the Scribes and Pharisees used their traditions, applies also to how the Magisterium of the Catholic Church treats sacred tradition, which, according to the Catholic Church was received orally from the Apostles and preserved in the liturgies and the writings of the Church Fathers. In this way Steven treats his interpretation of Matthew 23:8-10 as the authoritative standard by which to determine that the Catholic Church contradicts Christ, and that therefore Protestants should remain Protestant.

But Steven has not shown that Matthew 23:8-10 contradicts Catholic doctrine; he has only shown that his interpretation of Matthew 23:8-10 contradicts Catholic doctrine. The Catholic Church, and I as a Catholic, assent by faith to the authority and truth of Matthew 23:8-10, but not to Steven’s interpretation of Matthew 23:8-10. By presupposing the Protestant tradition in his hidden premise, i.e. that Scripture is not to be understood through sacred tradition, Steven’s argument presupposes the point in question between Protestants and the Catholic Church, namely, it presupposes the truth of Protestantism and the falsehood of Catholicism. His argument concludes that Catholicism is false, on the basis of an assumed premise that Protestantism is true, and that is circular reasoning. What leads him to make this mistake is not ignorance of logic, but the faulty assumption that his Protestant approach to Scripture is theologically neutral when in fact it is theologically loaded.

Later in his video Steven addresses one objection to his argument:

“Now the Orthodox and the Roman Catholic will say Christ has given authority to the teachers of the church to define dogma and to establish the limits of the faith against heretical opinion. It’s as if they were to say the teacher has given certain students the authority definitively to establish certain teachings as unquestionable. But this point has to be qualified. After all the scribes and pharisees could have claimed the same thing for themselves in response to Christ’s criticisms. It is true that the Church has the calling and the authority to define its faith but it doesn’t follow that every purported exercise of that authority is valid or true.” (16′)

Steven is correct that we should avoid credulity. But he implies here that the only way to avoid credulity is to disbelieve claims to Magisterial authority. And that conclusion does not follow from the obligation to avoid credulity. The motives of credibility give us reason to believe that God has given divine authority to the Apostles and their successors. In this way we (Catholics) are neither in a condition of credulity, since we have motives of credibility, nor are we rationalists, since by faith we obey God by obeying our divinely appointed leaders and submitting to them. (cf. Hebrews 13:17)

Regarding the Catholic understanding of Matthew 16:19 and 18:18, where Jesus says “whatever you bind on earth shall be should be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven,” Steven says:

“but I respond that what Christ says applies to Peter and to the Apostles since He was talking to them but not necessarily to those who come after them.” (17′)

Here again Steven is using the Protestant approach to Scripture (i.e. apart from sacred tradition), to interpret it as he thinks best, and then using that interpretation to oppose Catholic teaching regarding the authority of bishops and the Magisterium. Since he does not find in Scripture a clear prescription for apostolic succession and the continuation in the episcopal successors of the Apostles of the binding and loosing authority Christ gave to the Apostles, he concludes that the episcopal successors of the Apostles do not necessarily have this binding and loosing authority. But in the Catholic tradition, part of what belongs to sacred tradition, through which we come to Scripture, is the insight that this authority does remain in the Church through the successors of the Apostles.³ So here too Steven’s argument is built on a hidden premise, namely, that Scripture is not to be understood through the sacred tradition. And for this reason, just as above, his argument presupposes the very point in question between Protestants and the Catholic Church.

Steven claims that the only appropriate way for the Apostles to bind and loose was by seeing what God had already bound or loosed in a public manner. (19′-20′) He gives some examples of cases where God had manifest His will, and St. Peter made ecclesial decisions based on some public and obvious manifestation of God’s will. Steven then claims that the Magisterium in later centuries did not follow this pattern. I’m going to respond to this argument under Part II below, because in Part II he goes into more detail concerning this argument.

Steven next appeals in support of his thesis to three excerpts; one from Origen, one from St. Augustine, and one from St. Cyril. First he quotes Origen:

If there be anyone indeed who can discover something better and who can establish his assertions by clearer proofs from holy Scriptures let his opinion be received in preference to mine. (23′)

Then he quotes St. Augustine:

For the reasonings of any men whatsoever, even though they be Catholics and of high reputation, are not to be treated by us in the same way as the canonical Scriptures are treated. We are at liberty without doing any violence to the respect which these men deserve to condemn and reject anything in their writings if perchance we shall find that they have entertained opinions differing from that which others or we ourselves have by the divine help discovered to be the truth. I deal thus with the writings of others and I wish my intelligent readers to deal thus with mine. (23′ – 24′)

And lastly he quotes St. Cyril of Jerusalem:

For concerning the divine and holy mysteries of the faith, not even a casual statement must be delivered without the holy Scriptures, nor must we be drawn aside by mere plausibility and artifices of speech. Even to me who tell you these things give not absolute credence unless thou receive the proof of the things which I announce from the divine Scriptures. For this salvation which we believe depends not on ingenious reasoning but on demonstration of the holy Scriptures. (24′)

Origen is here speaking in his capacity as theologian. And what he says is the correct attitude of the theologian as theologian. Origen is not denying that what has been laid down definitively in the Church by an ecumenical council can later be rejected or contradicted. Nothing he says here entails that the Catholic Church goes against Christ’s teaching, either in its teaching about the authority of the Magisterium, in its doctrine of infallibility, or in its teaching on the relation of Scripture to sacred tradition. In short, since the quotation from Origen is fully compatible with Catholic doctrine, it is not evidence that the Catholic Church goes against the teaching of Christ.

And St. Augustine too is speaking here in his capacity as a theologian; he is making no claim here, in the quotation Steven cites, against the authority of a plenary council to give a definitive decision regarding a question, or against the authority of sacred tradition. Elsewhere he appeals to the authority of the tradition distinct from Scripture.⁴ He appeals to the authority of the Church when speaking of the interpretation of Scripture (On Christian Doctrine 3.2). And he appeals to the authority of the apostolic tradition regarding the baptism of infants. (The Literal Interpretation of Genesis, 10, 23:39; and On Baptism 4,24,32.) So again, because what St. Augustine says here is fully compatible with Catholic teaching, it does not show that Catholic teaching goes against the teaching of Christ.

As for St. Cyril, his statement is fully compatible with Catholic doctrine, because St. Cyril is affirming, as the Catholic Church does, that the content of our faith is located in the divine Scriptures; he is not denying the authority of a plenary council to definitively decide a question regarding the faith, or denying the existence and authority of sacred tradition. His exposition of the liturgy (Lecture 23) illustrates the authority of sacred tradition. He explicitly says “But in learning the Faith and in professing it, acquire and keep that only, which is now delivered to thee by the Church, and which has been built up strongly out of all the Scriptures.” (Lecture 5) If the Scriptures were the only source of faith, then there would be no appeal to the Church when determining what does or does not belong to the faith.

Steven comes back to Origen, and quotes him again:

The holy Apostles in preaching the faith of Christ delivered themselves with the utmost clearness on certain points which they believed to be necessary to everyone, even to those who seemed somewhat dull in the investigation of divine knowledge. … The things that the Apostles did not make clear were left for the investigation of later generations. (26′)

From this quotation Steven concludes:

Thus Origen takes the explicit and clear teaching of the Apostles to be the absolute guide for all Christian theology while everything else is a matter of continual investigation and correction as he mentioned in the passage that I quoted earlier. (26′)

The problem here is that Steven’s [sola scriptura] conclusion does not follow from Origen’s statement. To see that, observe that Origen’s statement can be true and all Catholic doctrine can be true, without any contradiction. Moreover, notice what Origen says elsewhere.

The teaching of the Church has indeed been handed down through an order of succession from the Apostles, and remains in the Churches even to the present time. That alone is to be believed as the truth, which is in no way at variance with ecclesiastical and apostolic tradition.” (On First Principles, I.2)

Origen affirms the authority of ecclesiastical and apostolic tradition, preserved through apostolic succession. So he is not claiming that tradition is not authoritative or that Scripture should be approached apart from that tradition. Hence here too Origen’s statement is fully compatible with Catholic teaching, and therefore does not show that Catholic teaching contradicts Christ’s teaching.

Next Steven tells a just-so story to explain the emergence of Catholic magisterial authority:

It seems to me that if you have a group of people who, (1) place tremendous emphasis on the unity of the group, and (2), who center the identity of their group of their community around an ambiguous and debatable topic which can produce multiple perspectives, it seems to me that with these two conditions in place you can find something like this traditionalist structure emerge. Differences in opinion compromise the evident unity of the group and people become identified with the opinions that distinguish them. But the problems of debate cannot be definitively resolved or established to everyone’s satisfaction. So self-identifying authoritative voices emerge whose word must on at least some occasions be unquestionable so that the matter is settled and the unity of the group is preserved. A procedure then is devised which will purportedly lead to the truth so long as it is followed correctly. In other words I am suggesting that the Scribes’ and Pharisees’ traditionalism is a social phenomenon that could in principle emerge anywhere as long as the conditions are right. But Christ identifies its weak point. People can confuse opinions for the things themselves, binding themselves to false ideas simply because of the purported authority of the persons propagating them, and in this way they place themselves on a harmful trajectory. The only way out of this spiral is for someone to come along and to say no, this tradition is bad and it has no authority unless what it says is true and an idea is not true because the tradition says it but rather because it is adequate to its object. But of course the traditionalist can’t hear this because in his mind the truth is too tightly bound up with the tradition and its procedures. (27′ – 29′)

Here Steven is by implicature using this sociological speculation about how authority structures arise to explain the development of Catholic ecclesial authority. This presupposes that Christ did not authorize the Apostles and instruct them to authorize successors. So here too Steven’s argument presupposes the falsehood of the Catholic position. The problem with just-so stories is that they are just-so stories. They persuade only by way of suggestion, and only if the hearer knows of no contrary evidence to the just-so story. But there is lots of evidence in the Church Fathers that ecclesial hierarchy was present from the beginning of the Church.⁵ Likewise, implying that Catholics “can’t hear” the truth because in our minds the truth is “too tightly bound up with the tradition and its procedures” again begs the question, by presupposing the falsehood of Catholicism.

Finally, Steven compares (by implication) the hierarchy of the Catholic Church to government bureaucracies in France and Romania. (29′ – 33′) He gives an example of a government bureaucracy getting itself into a situation requiring it to deny reality. He then claims, without any argumentation, that this is what has happened in the Catholic Church regarding doctrines like transubstantiation, Catholic teaching on Scripture and tradition, the veneration of images, Mary, and justification. I need say no more here because Steven has not here demonstrated his claim that these Catholic doctrines are not true. He has only claimed that the Church’s defining of these doctrines is like a state bureaucracy claiming that a living person is dead. And this claim presupposes the very point in question between Protestants and Catholics.

Why Remain Protestant? Part II

Steven opens his second video by summarizing his second argument:

Now my second argument for remaining a Protestant is that the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Churches are sectarian. And what I mean by sectarian is this: I mean that in order to welcome someone into their fellowship they demand that a person assent to the truth of doctrines which are highly contentious and not obviously supported by any properly authoritative sources. (1′)

To illustrate his claim he picks three dogmas: the dogma of the Immaculate Conception, the dogma of the Assumption, and the dogma defined at the Second Council of Nicea concerning the veneration of sacred images. (2′) He writes:

My argument is rather that such doctrines are highly contentious and not at all clearly supported by the most authoritative sources, and because they are not reasonably clear it is sectarian to set them up as conditions of fellowship with the Church. Scripture does not explicitly teach that Mary was conceived without original sin nor that she was assumed body and soul into heaven neither does Scripture teach that it is obligatory to venerate icons of Christ and of the saints. (5′)

He grants that these doctrines follow a trajectory set “in certain quarters.” (6′ – 7′) But he argues that these doctrines are neither clearly taught in Scripture, nor were they universally held. And therefore to make assent to them a condition of fellowship is sectarian, and thus a justification for remaining Protestant. Here, to support his point regarding the veneration of sacred images he quotes Origen regarding the practice among Christians of scorning “idols and all images.” (7′ – 8′) These three doctrines are sectarian, according to Steven, because “highly contentious and disputable points of view which cannot be established on the basis of the most authoritative sources are being put forth as non-negotiable conditions of fellowship.” (9′ – 10′) Steven then gives an uncharitable interpretation of the reasons why the Church has proposed these doctrines as dogma, saying:

Now what I think is happening is that a particular church or community of churchmen prefers its own ideas convictions and opinions so much to those of others that it is willing to exclude them from its fellowship unless they agree.” (10′)

This is an example of the bulverism fallacy, but Steven’s argument does not depend on this bulverism. He next says:

The church or community of church men in question takes itself as the standard of truth as though the mere fact that it has come to believe something is a proof that it is right. (10′)

Here Steven’s argument begs the question. His argument presupposes that the only reason the Magisterium of the Catholic Church believes these three dogmas to be true is that it has come to believe them. But in the Catholic tradition, the Magisterium has been given the promises of Christ regarding divine guidance into all truth. Steven’s argument here presupposes that the Magisterium did not receive this divine promise, among others. And in this way his argument presupposes the very point he is attempting to show, namely, that Catholicism is false.

Steven’s argument begs the question again in his following criticism of the Catholic Church:

And this can be seen in Ineffabilis Deus which says “The Catholic Church directed by the Holy Spirit of God is the pillar and base of truth.” Now note well this is not merely a citation of the words of Paul from I Timothy 3:15. It is an identification of a particular Church, namely the Church of Rome and those associated with it, as the Church. (10′)

First, Pope Pius IX is not equating the particular Church at Rome with the Catholic Church. The particular Church at Rome is a particular Church within the Catholic Church. But in Catholic doctrine schism is defined in relation to the bishop of this particular Church.⁶ Second, Steven’s criticism of Pope Pius’s claim to speak for the Catholic Church presupposes that the papal office is not what the Catholic Church teaches it is, and thus that Catholicism is false. So here too Steven’s argument presupposes the very point in question.

Next Steven says:

And instead of measuring its statements against the things themselves and coming to a moderate conclusion about the truth of what it says, the Roman Church takes the truth of its thoughts for granted and declares its belief an infallible dogma and a condition for fellowship. Now to my mind this is sectarian behavior. It is putting oneself forward as the criterion of truth in a matter in which one appears to have no special access to the reality of the matter.” (11′)

Notice that last line “one appears to have no special access to the reality of the matter.” Here’s the dilemma for Steven’s argument. If Steven’s claim remains at the mere phenomenological, the conclusion of his argument does not follow. If to him it does not appear that the Church at Rome has no special access to the reality of the matter, that leaves open the possibility that it does have special access to the reality of the matter, and he has not demonstrated that the teaching of the Catholic Church goes against the teaching of Christ. But on the other horn of the dilemma, if Steven claims that the Church at Rome has no special access to the apostolic deposit, or no certain charism of truth, then his argument presupposes the point in question between Protestants and the Catholic Church. Either way, his argument fails.

Regarding the Second Council of Nicea, Steven next says:

But the Council then descends into sectarianism when it continues by saying the following: “This promise, however, He made not only to them but also to us who, thanks to them, have come to believe in his name.” Now notice once more this us does not refer to all Christians but rather to these persons who have gathered at the Council and perhaps also to those who agree with them. Thus the bishops gathered at the Council take for granted without adequate reason that they are the inheritors of the original promise of divine guidance to the early Church. (12′)

Steven’s argument presupposes the very point in question when he claims that the bishops at the Council “take for granted without adequate reason that they are the inheritors of the original promise of divine guidance to the early Church.” If the bishops are what the Catholic Church teaches about bishops, and this teaching and authority have been handed down to them from the Apostles, then the bishops do have an “adequate reason” to believe that they are the inheritors of the original promise. My point here is not to establish the authority of the bishops, but only to show that Steven’s argument presupposes the very point in question, namely, that the Catholic Church is false.

Next Steven claims the following:

Of course an unwritten tradition is a word that comes from nowhere in particular and can be traced back to no one with certainty. Who can know if an unwritten tradition is genuinely apostolic?(13′)

His claim that an unwritten tradition is a “word that comes from nowhere” is not a theologically neutral claim. It presupposes the falsehood of the Catholic Church, for which there is an unwritten tradition that comes to us from the Apostles. So here too Steven presupposes the point in question. As for his question, this is not a question that baffled the early Church. St. Augustine, for example, in multiple places identifies traditions that were not clear in Scripture (e.g. infant baptism) but were universally practiced as originating from the Apostles.⁷

Steven next writes:

That is the attitude of a sectarian. He takes himself as the measure of truth and excludes all those who refuse to agree with him rather than putting himself on the same level as those with whom he might disagree and submitting together with them to the truth of things such as they seem.” (13′ – 14′)

Again, for reasons that by now should be obvious, Steven’s argument presupposes the very point in question. If Christ did give ecclesial authority to His Apostles, and they in turn gave this authority to their episcopal successors, and not to the laity, then when the bishops think, speak, and act as though they have this authority, this is not at all sectarian. These are rather acts of faith in Christ and obedience to Him.

Steven summarizes his argument for Part II:

So this is my argument. The Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Churches are sectarian because they impose as a condition for fellowship assent to highly contentious and debatable ideas that cannot be clearly established on the basis of the most authoritative sources. That is sectarian behavior. It is an unconditional and relentless privileging of one’s own perspective in some matter of dispute rather than simply submitting to the truth and admitting ambiguities where they where they exist. (14′)

In response, first, two of the criteria Steven is using here to determine whether the Catholic Church is sectarian are “contentious” and “debatable.” Although I could, I’m not going to argue that since the notion that these two qualities are among the criteria for determining what is “sectarian” is itself contentious and debatable, Steven’s argument is self-refuting. Rather, I’m simply going to point out again that the notion that these two qualities are among the criteria for “sectarian” is not theologically neutral, but presuppose the point in question.⁸ A careful study of the Arian controversy shows that for many years it was contentious and debatable. The same is true of Marcionism, Novatianism, Montanism, as well as the Donatist schism, and many others. If ‘contentious’ and ‘debatable’ were the criteria for sectarianism, there would be no schisms, only branches. But that’s not my fundamental point. The fundamental point is that Steven’s argument in Part II presupposes the very point in question by presupposing loaded (i.e. non-neutral) criteria for determining what is and is not sectarian.

Second, Steven here presupposes that the bishops’ perspective in matters of faith and morals is no more authoritative than that of any other Christian. That’s an implicit premise in his charge that the Catholic bishops are unjustifiably privileging their own perspective. But that implicit premise presupposes the very point in question between Protestants and the Catholic Church, and so Steven’s argument is question-begging.

Next Steven says:

Let me say that I agree that the Apostles and the leaders of the Church that come after them were given the authority to bind and loose but it does not follow that this authority is always exercised properly. (15′)

Steven is arguing that infallibility does not follow merely from the authority to bind and loose. But if on the one hand he is claiming implicitly that the Church did not receive the gift of infallibility, he is presupposing the point in question.⁹ If on the other hand he is simply claiming that sometimes bishops do not exercise their authority properly, then from this premise it does not follow that the Catholic Church is sectarian, since this weaker claim is fully compatible with the truth of Catholic doctrine.

Steven next says:

So let’s take as an example. Christ promises Peter that whatever you bind on earth will have been bound in heaven and whatever you loose on earth will have been loosed in heaven. That is Matthew chapter 16 verse 19. Now from this perfect passive construction being used here we can discern that the binding and loosing in heaven come before the binding and losing on earth. (16′)

Here Steven is again using a Protestant approach to Scripture, according to which its meaning is determined entirely by exegesis, and not by sacred tradition. In the Catholic tradition, however, the mood and voice of these verbs does not entail that prior to the binding or loosing of something on earth, God will have already bound and loosed it in heaven. That’s because in the Catholic tradition exegesis by itself underdetermines interpretation, and Scripture must be interpreted in light of sacred tradition. My point is that Steven’s argument is here too presupposing the point in question, namely, the falsehood of Catholicism in his argument for the falsehood of Catholicism.

Now Steven comes back to the point he made in Part I, and which I mentioned above but to which I did not yet respond. Here Steven uses the examples of Sts. Peter and Paul making decisions on the basis of God having made a prior, clear and public manifestation of His will, to argue that the Magisterium can rightly make authoritative decisions only on the same basis. (16′ – 20′) That conclusion does not follow from the premise. Even if Steven’s premise is true regarding these decisions Sts. Peter and Paul made, it could still be true that the Apostles had (and the Magisterium has) the authority to make decisions without a public divine manifestation of God’s will. Here too Steven is using his own interpretation of Scripture, apart from sacred tradition, to argue against Catholic teaching concerning Magisterial authority. And that presupposes the very point in question.

Then Steven claims that “nothing like this was happening in the three cases he is considering (i.e. the two Marian dogmas, and the teaching of Second Nicea on the veneration of icons). (20′) That is, for these three dogmas, he claims that there was no prior, clear and public manifestation of God’s will, that could be verified by other Christians. But this claim that to be legitimate, Magisterial decisions must be able to be independently verified by other Christians presupposes the very point in question. Yes there is a sensus fidelium, but as Pope Benedict XVI explained, it is not “a form of ecclesial public opinion, and it would be unthinkable to refer to it to challenge the teachings of the Magisterium, since the ‘sensus fidei’ cannot truly develop in a believer other than to the extent to which he participates fully in the life of the Church, and it therefore necessitates responsible adhesion to her Magisterium.”¹⁰ As I mentioned above, Steven grants that these doctrines follow a trajectory set “in certain quarters.” (6′ – 7′) But Steven treats the development of a tradition, and what in the Catholic tradition is understood as development of doctrine, as something only arbitrary in its starting point and in its development. The Magisterium, however, recognizes and affirms authentic developments.¹¹ And this is part of the paradigm difference between Protestants and the Catholic Church, in relation to what I’ve referred to as ecclesial deism, since believing that the Holy Spirit is the ‘soul’ of the Church leads us to expect development of doctrine, and further illumination and defining of the deposit. So by denying that the Magisterium has the divine gift by which to recognize and affirm authentic development of doctrine, Steven’s argument presupposes the point in question.

As for the development in relation to the three dogmas Steven has chosen for examples, the earlier Catholic opposition to images was never universal, never a moral consensus, and was never defined. Nor was it based on iconoclastic principle but rather on the prevalence of the pagan culture of idolatry. As that changed toward theism in the Roman empire, and as the two natures of Christ were defined at Chalcedon, the veneration of sacred images came to be seen as an affirmation of the Incarnation and its implications, in opposition to Arianism. Regarding the developments that led to the Church defining the dogma of the Immaculate Conception, I have briefly discussed here. And I discussed here the developments that led to the Church defining the dogma of the Assumption.

Finally Steven writes:

But I say that it is sectarian to put them forth as conditions of fellowship. To do that would be a matter of taking one’s own tradition one’s own perspective as if it were uniquely identical to the tradition of the Apostles without adequate argument than evidence. (21′)

Here too Steven’s argument presupposes that the Catholic Magisterium is not composed of the successors of the Apostles, and has not faithfully handed down the Apostolic deposit, and the guidance of the Holy Spirit. In short, here too Steven’s argument presupposes the point in question. As for his claim that the Catholic Church is sectarian because its contentious and debatable teachings are not “clearly supported by the most authoritative sources,” this criterion presupposes that Magisterial teaching must be “clearly supported” by Scripture. But that criteria is not itself part of the sacred tradition. The material sufficiency of Scripture is part of the tradition, but that is not the same thing as “clearly supported by Scripture.” So here too Steven’s argument presupposes the point in question.

In my opinion, Protestants often do not recognize that their arguments against the Catholic Church presupposes the very point in question because the difference between Protestantism and Catholicism is a paradigmatic difference, such that the paradigmatic nature of the difference often remains invisible.¹² In the Catholic tradition, faith is not itself established by reason or evidence accessible to reason. If I could see for myself the truth of the faith, my act of belief would not be an act of faith. Hence in the Catholic tradition an essential part of the act of faith is believing Christ by believing the successors of those whom He chose and authorized to speak in His name. Through these successors we receive also the content of faith. In the Protestant paradigm, by contrast, the personal and communal is downstream of the hermeneutical, as Neal Judisch and I argued elsewhere. I hope and pray that my response here will be helpful to Steven and also serve in the task of Protestant-Catholic reconciliation.

All you Holy Saints of God, pray for us.

Solemnity of All Saints, 2021.

1. Catechism of the Catholic Church, 100.
2. Liber de praescriptione haereticorum, 37.
3. St. Augustine writes, “if you acknowledge the supreme authority of Scripture, you should recognize that authority which from the time of Christ Himself, though the ministry of His apostles, and through a regular succession of bishops in the seats of the apostles, has been preserved to our own day throughout the whole world, with a reputation known to all.” (Reply to Faustus the Manichean, 33:9)
4. “As to those other things which we hold on the authority, not of Scripture, but of tradition, and which are observed throughout the whole world, it may be understood that they are held as approved and instituted either by the apostles themselves, or by plenary Councils, whose authority in the Church is most useful….” St. Augustine, Epistle to Januarius, 54:1.
5. See our “The Bishops of History and the Catholic Faith: A Reply To Brandon Addison.”
6. Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2089.
7. Cf. Letter to Januarius 54.1.1. On Baptism 2.7.1 and 5.23.31.
8. I have addressed the charge of sectarianism in 2011 in “Ecclesial Unity and Outdoing Christ: A Dilemma for the Ecumenicism of Non-Return.”
9. See B.C. Butler’s The Church and Infallibility (Sheed and Ward, 1954) and Bishop Vincent Ferrer Gasser’s The Gift of Infallibility (Ignatius Press, 1986).
10. Vatican Information Service, December 7, 2012.
11. See comments #29 and #31 under “The Commonitory of St. Vincent of Lérins.”
12. I attempted to illustrate one aspect of the paradigmatic difference in “Imputations and Paradigms: A Reply to Nick Batzig.”

CtC contributor Casey Chalk has been featured on the “Creedal Catholic” podcast in a five-part series on the Calvinist doctrinal acronym TULIP. He and Creedal Catholic host (and Protestant convert to Catholicism) Zac Crippen have discussed Total Depravity, Unconditional Election, Limited Atonement, Irresistible Grace, and Perseverance of the Saints. Here’s the link.

https://pod.link/1458179240

Pentecost
Giotto di Bondone, 1304-06

In 2005 when I was preparing to be received into full communion with the Catholic Church, I did not yet perceive or understand the magnitude and scope of what I now believe to be one of the most grave and widespread problems in present-day Catholicism in the US. I did not perceive or understand this problem, in part, because I was to some degree ensnared in it myself. Fifteen years later, I am not exaggerating when I say that I see this problem and its deleterious effects around me on a daily basis. The problem I am talking about is that the philosophies in the minds of US Catholics are primarily formed by and drawn from the ideologies of whichever pole of the political binary they inhabit, rather than from the doctrine and philosophical tradition of the Church.

On the Present Polarization

While it would be inaccurate to claim that there are only two competing political ideologies in the US, I need not defend the claim that the US is presently deeply politically polarized, because the latter claim is not only empirically verified but also self-evident to any observer.²

The two primary political poles in the US each embody a distinct general ideology. Commonly these ideologies are referred to with terms like “left” and “right,” or ‘progressive’ and ‘conservative.’ But they are not merely competing sets of answers to policy questions or issues; they are also competing broader ideologies, each with their own principles and ideals about liberty, rights, justice, and national well-being. Like philosophies generally, these ideologies tend to be invisible as ideologies, especially if we grew up immersed within them, and without being pedagogically required to look under the hood, so to speak, to discover what lies beneath these aggregations of positions on issues. As a result, persons who hold these ideologies typically do not see themselves as holding an ideology, but merely as supporting either a set of issues or some general principles they believe to be good and important.

Nevertheless, the deep political polarization in the US creates a tendency toward a tribalism in which, regardless of our religious beliefs, we now tend to see ourselves as members of one of two opposing political teams or sides.³ Tribalism appeals to our natural human desire to belong, and to our sense of loyalty.⁴ It inclines us to embrace not only the positional package, but also the underlying philosophy of one side of the political binary. But it also inclines us to adopt an us vs. them mentality in relation to this political binary, to conceive of the situation as a contest of ‘right vs. wrong’ or ‘good vs. evil,’ and to categorize every person, article, and action, as motivated by advancing or defending one tribe or the other, and thus as either “with us or against us.”⁵

When the background framework in which we live is the continual struggle between two political ideologies, and this political struggle is largely viewed as the struggle in our time and place between good and evil, then one of these parties and political ideologies tends to be placed in the category of the good, and the other tends to be placed in the category of the bad, such that the political battle between them is conceived as the earthly instantiation of the battle between good and evil, and thus between the ‘good guys’ and the ‘bad guys.’ So even before bringing in the topic of grace or divine faith, simply considering human nature in the context of polarization we find that tribalism can lead to a propensity toward intellectual vices and fallacious reasoning.⁶

Political Polarization in the Catholic Church in the US

While the philosophies in the minds of persons in the US are largely formed by and drawn from the ideologies of whichever pole of the political binary they inhabit, this is no less true for US Catholics. For this reason the political polarization in the US leads US Catholics to fall into the very same political tribalism.⁷ Catholics in the US are vulnerable to falling into this tribalism because we too acquire our moral and political philosophy almost entirely from our political affiliation and partisan identity, rather than from the Church’s social teaching and philosophical tradition.⁸ And once we fall into this political tribalism, that only compounds the problem, because the ‘us’ side acquires increased perceived authority, and becomes the dominant lens through which we interpret all Church teaching and Church governance.⁹

The problem is not merely intellectual, but has an important social component, because we humans tend to get our ideology from the community with whom we identify most closely. A Catholic who identifies with the persons on one pole of the political polarization tends to retain and elevate conceptually the functional authority of its political ideology over the Church’s social teaching, rather than by faith allow the Church’s teaching to be the standard by which he critically evaluates his political ideology, and relinquishes it where it opposes the teaching of the Church. But though the cafeteria eclecticism of private judgment is more obvious in other more concrete areas of doctrine, in the area of political ideology this eclecticism as such tends to remain mostly invisible to US Catholics.¹⁰

The Catholic philosophical tradition and Catholic Social Teaching differ from and transcend the ideologies of both poles of our present political polarization.¹¹ At Pentecost of 2017, Pope Francis said that when Christians “take sides and form parties, [we] become Christians of the ‘right’ or the ‘left,’ before being on the side of Jesus.”¹² The following year he reminded us again that when faced with splits along party lines, including “conservative” or “progressive,” we must choose to belong to Jesus before identifying with right or left.¹³ He says this because he sees that identifying ourselves with these political poles can lead us to have a mind and heart other than the mind and heart of Christ, found in and through the Church.¹⁴

What Causes Polarization Within the Catholic Church in the US?

One factor contributing to the problem is the assumption that political left and political right correspond to theological liberalism and theological orthodoxy, respectively. Theological liberalism, defined in one sense as dissent from orthodoxy, is thereby associated with being politically left, and being politically on the right is therefore conceived to be theologically orthodox. Moreover, because the threat of abortion remains the USCCB’s “preeminent priority,”¹⁵ and because the political right in the US has presented itself as more supportive of protecting the unborn than has the political left, therefore it can seem that the political right is on the side of the Church. This can lead to the unquestioning assumption that the political right’s ideology as a whole is in agreement with Church teaching, especially given that the ubiquitous and continual public presence of the battle between the two political poles also implicitly communicates that these are the only two options.

Inversely, some other US Catholics approach the Church’s teaching through a lens of social justice drawn either from the philosophy of the political left or from part of Church teaching, and rationalize dissent from Church teaching in areas of sexual ethics and marriage on the grounds of what they believe are the implications of social justice, as though they know better than the Church on these matters, and as though it is only a matter of time before the Church eventually catches up to them.¹⁶ Here too a driving factor is an operative false dilemma that insofar as political conservatism distorts or denies parts of Christ’s teaching, and central parts of what is known as political liberalism more closely resembles Christ’s social gospel, therefore the political ideology of the left is the one to embrace as a Catholic.

More broadly, insofar as one approaches the Church through the consumeristic paradigm by which one chooses one’s religious practice and affiliation according to its conformity to one’s tastes and beliefs, one will be inclined to distort the Church’s teaching to make it conform to one’s political ideology, rather than allow the Church’s teaching to be the standard by which one evaluates one’s political ideology.¹⁷

Epistemic Effects of This Polarization

The problem is not that US Catholics tend to view the Church as a central context for the overarching battle between good and evil. The Church is such a context, and there is truly a battle between good and evil, as the Church herself teaches.¹⁸ Moreover there have always been persons in the Church seeking to deny or distort the Church’s teaching. A significant and important component of Church history is that of the role of heresies and heretics. And against their errors the saints must always contend.¹⁹

Rather, Catholics in the US, both clerics and lay persons, tend to treat the opposition between left and right political ideologies in the US as the conceptual framework in which and through which to situate and interpret what and who in the Church belongs to the good and true, and what and who in the Church belongs to the bad and false. According to this conceptual framework either the Church becomes the extension of the political war between left and right into the domain of religion, or the political war between left and right becomes the extension into the political domain of the deeper metaphysical conflict between good vs. evil laid out in the Christian metanarrative. Either way, through this lens one is led to construe each event in the Church in terms of a war between left and right Catholicism, and to categorize each person as either ‘us’ or ‘them.’²⁰

From within this conceptual framework one looks for some sign or signs, drawn from the conceptual toolbox of the US political conflict, by which to place each Catholic into one of these two categories: the ‘good guys’ and the ‘bad guys.’ Typically this categorization is already done by others on one’s own side of the political divide. Church leaders and their teaching are conceptually judged and divided as good or bad, on the side of good or on the side of evil, according to the degree to which they conform to the political ideology of one’s group.²¹

For Catholics who identify with the political left, when Church leaders say something opposing leftist political ideology, then by this lens these leaders are placed in the ‘bad’ category, and their teaching is dismissed as coming from leaders who have ‘sold out’ to wealthy donors on the political right. Conversely, for Catholics who identify with the political right, when Church leaders make a statement that opposes something in the political ideology of the right, then by this action these leaders are placed in the ‘bad’ category, and their teaching dismissed as having sold out to leftist ideology or progressivism. However, when Catholic leaders say something that agrees with or is compatible with one’s own political ideology, it is accepted, praised, and highlighted, as coming from one of the good guys, on the side of the good in the war between good and evil. This is not the carrying out of our responsibility to guard the good deposited entrusted to us (2 Tim. 1:14); this is motivated reasoning in the service of politicized ecclesial consumerism.

In this way this phenomenon causes many US Catholics to tend to construe and interpret Catholic doctrine, including Catholic Social Teaching, so as to make it conceptually fit with and conform to their respective political ideology, affirming that which agrees with their pre-existing beliefs, and at least implicitly ignoring that which does not.²²

By adopting such a framework, the paradigm of the US political conflict replaces the Church’s own teaching as the paradigm in which and through which to understand the Church and evaluate what occurs within her, and becomes instead the standard by which the Church’s teaching is judged, which parts of that teaching are accepted and which parts rejected, and how Catholic leaders are to be categorized, so as to be either those counting as approved, or those to be ignored or rejected. In this way can we inadvertently and wrongly treat our political ideology as greater in authority than the teaching of the Church.

When we mistake and construe the conflict between the political left and right as the war between good and evil, we inadvertently advance the cause of evil, in at least four ways. We do so firstly by misidentifying the conflict and where the conflict really lies, thereby further obscuring both good and evil. And evil flourishes and goodness wanes to the degree to which they are masked and thereby made ambiguous and indistinguishable. Secondly, we prevent ourselves from seeing what is bad and false in our own ideology, and what is good and true in the ideology of our political opponent. When error is included in what we set up as our standard, we prevent its being shown to us as error, and when what is good is defined as evil, it cannot be shown to us to be good. Thirdly, we discredit the Church, by driving wedges between Catholics, polarizing Catholics against one another, and reducing the Church to a stage of political conflict when in truth she is the steward of Christ’s gospel and that through which peace and unity are to come to every nation, through the unity we have been given in the Church. Fourthly, we obscure the gospel from ourselves and from the world, by both reducing it to the level of a political ideology and by failing to see that it transcends and judges every political ideology, including our own, not the other way around.

Effects of This Polarization on Evangelism

This problem does not falsify the essential visible unity of the Catholic Church we confess in the Creed, for reasons I have explained elsewhere in 2012.²³. Nevertheless it wounds that unity, and in multiple ways is a stumbling block to Catholics, to Protestants, and to non-Christians. Not only does it make Catholics opposed to each other politically, but it brings that conflict into the Church and applies it to all things Catholic. It makes the faith we have received from Christ itself something to be weaponized and exploited within a broader political war, rather than allowing it to be that by which we beat our swords into plowshares, and our spears into pruning hooks.²⁴

We Catholics then as a result fail to show to the world the unity of love Christ has called us to show to one another (John 13:35). We also fail to show the Church’s teaching, because we reduce it to something that does not challenge our respective political ideologies, and falsely imply to the world that the gospel of Christ just is our political ideology.²⁵

Catholics caught up in this polarization think that they are “fighting the good fight” as, for example, they share items daily on social media that score rhetorical points for their side, when in actuality they are fighting for their political ideology, and the “good fight,” which is to be conducted in an entirely different mode, is neglected or even harmed as a result. The gospel of Christ is something beautiful and inviting, but the war as presently waged between political ideologies is ugly and off-putting. And the appropriation of the Catholic faith to advance one side or other in the political battle between left and right is uglier still, making the Catholic faith out to be something ugly and repulsive. Those who sink into this fight and this mode of fighting it tend to become in a certain respect corrupted and tainted by it, losing in a long-term way both within themselves and in the eyes of others the moral credibility needed to share effectively a divine message that transcends these two political ideologies.²⁶ In short, ideological polarization among US Catholics weakens our gospel witness.²⁷

Transcending Politicizing Polarization

“[Christians’] adherence to a political alliance will never be ideological but always critical ….”²⁸

I am not saying that Catholics should not be involved in politics, or that Catholics should not participate in political parties. Nor am I saying that there are no persons within the Church seeking to water down, distort, or corrupt her teaching, and that those attempts must not be faithfully resisted. But participating politically and upholding the deposit of faith does not require falling into the problem described above.

To avoid falling into this polarization we must first recognize it as a grave problem, and become aware of it.²⁹ In parishes, Catholic schools, RCIA classes, and seminaries, we need formation in Catholic social teaching and the Catholic philosophical tradition. Catholics need to be taught both in word and through example where Catholic teaching does not line up with the political ideologies of the US political polarization.³⁰ We need additional tools for examining ourselves to help us recognize when we are falling into this error. We need our priests to recognize this problem, teach us how to avoid it, and live out what it looks like to transcend it.

Without such formation converts to Catholicism are vulnerable to this error. I have seen this many times over the last fifteen years. Converts are vulnerable to bringing with them into the Church their own philosophy, not knowing that they are doing so, and especially not knowing that they should be revising their philosophy according to the Church’s social teaching and philosophical tradition, in part because even with an otherwise good RCIA program, RCIA teachers are typically and understandably overjoyed if the catechumens simply learn the theological basics laid out in the Catechism of the Catholic Church. We need to be teaching those coming into the Church how to avoid allowing our nation’s political polarization to commandeer their practice of the faith.³¹

If we love Christ and love His Church, then we must love the peace and unity of His Church. And that means also praying for and building up the peace and unity of the Church. That does not mean uniformity. Disagreements of a certain sort, debated in respect and charity, are healthy for the Church in this pilgrim way, and have always been part of her history. But allowing our nation’s political polarization to become the paradigm through which we see the Church is a philosophical error that creates unhealthy division and keeps us from entering fully into the supernatural peace Christ has already provided to His Church.³² We grow in our participation of this supernatural peace through acquiring the mind of Christ.³³ And we find the mind of Christ in His Body, the Church.³⁴

O Lord Jesus, Who said to Your Apostles; Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; regard not our sins, but the faith of Your Church, and grant her that peace and unity which are agreeable to Your will. Who lives and reigns, Lord, God forever and ever. Amen.

1. Note there in particular what I say about philosophy not only being unavoidable, but tending to be invisible to us, both in those around us and within ourselves. Note also what I say there about the Catholic philosophical tradition. The reader will also be aided by familiarity with my other essay from 2017 titled “Speaking the Truth in the Beauty of Love: A Guide to Better Online Discussion.”
2. See “Republicans And Democrats Don’t Agree, Or Like Each Other — And It’s Worse Than Ever” (NPR, October 5, 2017). Sam Rosenfeld has argued in his recent book that our present political polarization was intentional. See his The Polarizers: Postwar Architects of Our Partisan Era (University of Chicago Press, 2018).
3. On the way in which we as individuals contribute to the polarization, see “Who is the cause of society’s polarization? All of us” by Matt Malone, S.J. (April 20, 2018).
4. See “Revisiting Robbers Cave: The easy spontaneity of intergroup conflict” by Maria Konnikova (September 5, 2012).
5. A number of authors have written recently about political tribalism in the US, including Jonah Goldberg Suicide of the West: How the Rebirth of Tribalism, Nationalism, and Socialism Is Destroying American Democracy (Crown Forum, 2020), Ezra Klein Why We’re Polarized (Avid Reader Press, 2020), Amy Chua Political Tribes: Group Instinct and the Fate of Nations (Penguin Books, 2019), Steve Kornacki The Red and the Blue: The 1990s and the Birth of Political Tribalism (Ecco Press, 2018), Stevan E. Hobfoll Tribalism: The Evolutionary Origins of Fear Politics (Palgrave Macmillan, 2018), and Sarah Rose Cavanagh Hivemind: The New Science of Tribalism in Our Divided World (Grand Central Publishing, 2019).
6. The left-right “package deal” way of thinking is the “black or white” fallacy applied to political polarization and so internalized as to become an intellectual vice disposing its possessor to oversimplify positions repeatedly by (a) conceiving them or those who hold them as necessarily belonging to one of those two packages, even when in fact they do not, and thus failing to see even as possibilities third and fourth options beyond those contained in the two packages, (b) assuming on the basis that some parts of the package one has chosen are true and good that the other parts of the package must also be true and good, and defending these other parts without questioning or verifying them, even when these other parts are false and harmful, (c) assuming that the only alternative to a good in one’s chosen package must be an evil in the other package, rather than a greater good, (d) assuming that an error in an opposing package negates the whole opposing package, and thereby verifies the truth of the whole of one’s chosen package, and/or (e) treating a criticism of one component of one’s chosen package as a criticism of the whole package, and therefore of all that is good in the package, and thus as unjustifiable and readily dismissible, (f) grasping at anything that will defend one’s anything in one’s package and criticize something in the opposing side’s package, and (g) treat a criticizing of some component of one’s own package a personal attack and as identifying the critic as an enemy to be entirely distrusted and opposed. One symptom of this way of ‘package’ way thinking is that once one discovers which side a person is on, one can accurately predict all of that person’s positions, because their positions line up perfectly with those of the package.
7. On this problem see the following: “A View From Abroad: The Shrinking Common Ground in the American Church” by Massimo Faggiolo (February 11, 2014), Polarization in the US Catholic Church: Naming the Wounds, Beginning to Heal, Edited by Mary Ellen Konieczny, Charles C. Camosy, and Tricia C. Bruce (Liturgical Press, 2016), “Christianity’s Grand Canyon” (by Fr. Dwight Longenecker (February 15, 2018), “American Catholicism: How to Mend the Fences” by Fr. Dwight Longenecker (February 23, 2018), “Overcoming Polarization in a Divided Nation Through Catholic Social Thought: Bringing the Joy of the Gospel to a Divided Nation” (June 4, 2018), “Georgetown summit looks to Francis in overcoming polarization” (June 7, 2018), “Like Americans overall, U.S. Catholics are sharply divided by party” (Pew Research Center, January 24, 2019), “A Closer Look: Resisting Partisan Identification for Faithful Discipleship” by Kenneth Craycraft (January 10, 2020), “Pope, US bishops talk about political polarization infecting the Church” (January 27, 2020).
8. See Michele Margolis’s book From Politics to the Pews: How Partisanship and the Political Environment Shape Religious Identity, (University of Chicago Press, 2018), discussed in “How partisanship drives religious attitudes” by Yonat Shimron, July 31, 2018.
9. See, for example, Ross Douthat’s 2016 First Things article titled “A Crisis of Conservative Catholicism.” Throughout the article Ross repeatedly divides Catholics into “liberal Catholics” and “conservative Catholics.” He is not merely referring to Catholics who happen to be politically on the right, and Catholics who happen to be politically on the left. For Ross these are kinds of Catholicism. But there is no such thing as “conservative Catholicism” or “liberal Catholicism.” These are political terms artificially (and falsely) imposed on the Church. And this is so common that no one blinks an eye.
10. And that too is again in part because instead of seeing these underlying political ideologies as ideologies, many Catholics see within the political sphere only sets of issues loosely related under broader freedoms and rights. And when these ideologies remain mostly hidden to those who hold them, these ideologies are not held up to critical evaluation, either to that of reason or Church authority.
11. On the Catholic philosophical tradition in view of Fides et Ratio, see my 2017 essay “Evangelism as Cultural Conversion.” Recognizing the underlying philosophical dimensions of the “left” / “right” divide in the US is important in part because the philosophies of the left and of the right are neither identical to nor in complete agreement with the Catholic philosophical tradition and Catholic Social Teaching in particular. For the purpose of this essay, this claim will serve as a working assumption, largely because substantiating it would require another whole article. But for example, forms of nationalism, economic liberalism, utilitarianism, expressive liberal individualism, and sexual liberalism are incompatible with the Catholic philosophical tradition and Catholic Social Teaching. See Dennis Sadowski’s “Catholic social teaching held up in efforts to overcome polarization” (December 29, 2018) on the “Overcoming Polarization in a Divided Nation Through Catholic Social Thought” conference at Georgetown University in June of 2018.
12. “Avoid becoming Christians of the ‘right’ or the ‘left,’ urges Pope Francis during Pentecost Homily by Gerard O’Connell (June 4, 2017), “There are no Catholics of the ‘Left’ or ‘Right’. Here’s why.” (June 15, 2017).
13. Address of His Holiness Pope Francis to WCC Ecumenical Centre, Thursday, June 21, 2018.
14. The problem I am describing in this essay is such that for Catholics ensnared in it on one of the two political poles, the problem itself makes it more difficult for them to hear Pope Francis’s voice with credibility or receptivity, and therefore to be corrected by him. It also for them makes this essay at least suspect and on the ‘them’ side of “us vs. them.”
15. USCCB, “Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship,” November 12, 2012.
16. This is contrary to faith, according to St. Thomas Aquinas, as explained in “St. Thomas Aquinas on the Relation of Faith to the Church.”
17. See “Ecclesial Consumerism.” (July 5, 2010).
18. See CCC 409.
19. See St. Augustine’s comments on why divine providence permits many heretics, in Two Books on Genesis Against the Manichees, 1.2.
20. See Robert G. Christian III’s “This is What You Get When Politics Invades Our Political Lives.”
21. Usually this conceptual framework does not exist so clearly distinct on its own, but is also conceptually mixed together with concepts of theological orthodoxy and theological progressivism.
22. “The political crisis of ‘Conservative Catholicism’” by Stephen Schneck (January 4, 2016)
23. “The “Catholics are divided too” Objection”
24. Joyeux Noël.
25. See “Bishop McElroy to address partisan polarization in lecture at Loyola in Chicago” (April 17, 2018), “Bishop McElroy: Catholic Teaching Has Been Hijacked by Partisans” (April 30, 2018).
26. “Why the Culture Wars Don’t Evangelize Souls” by Constance T. Hull (June 21, 2018), “Polarization of Church and Society “discouraging” for millennials” by Charles C. Camosy (June 23, 2018).
27. “How partisanship is ‘weakening the Gospel witness’ in America” by Sister Theresa Aletheia Noble (July 2, 2020).
28. Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church, 573
29. “Catholic virtues necessary to address political polarization, bishop says” (April 19, 2018).
30. “Civic Virtue and the Common Good: Forming a Catholic Political Imagination” (May, 2018).
31. See Desiree Hausam’s “How to Avoid Catholic Camps — A Franciscan Word to New Converts” (December 12, 2019).
32. Philippians 4:7.
33. Romans 12:2.
34. 2 Cor. 2:16.

It has become a commonplace in some quarters to suggest that the dik group of terms–particularly the verb dikaioo, “to justify”–are naturally translated as being “treated as righteous” or “reckoned as righteous”, and that Paul’s Greek-speaking readers would have understood him in this way. This may be true at the purely linguistic level; however, the Greek Christian preoccupation with the strongly transformative soteriological metaphor of deification appears to have led to justification being treated in a factitive sense. This is not, however, to be seen as a conceptual imposition on Pauline thought, but rather a discernment of this aspect of his soteriological narrative.

So, on the one hand, my Reformed faith had taught me that the Catholic Church was the enemy, the arch-nemesis of the gospel, Scripture, and Christ Himself. This was ingrained into me, and I could not draw near to Rome without at the same time feeling a deep sense of wrongness.

On the other hand, my Reformed faith also taught me that God’s revealed will was found in Scripture alone. And since Rome didn’t reject anything God had said there, drawing near to her did not mean rejecting any part of God’s revealed will. It only meant rejecting what the Reformers said.

De Haan is a former Reformed seminary student who converted to the Catholic Church. Read his conversion story here.

St. James on Dead Faith 

The first important passages is:

Even so faith, if it have not works, is dead in itself.¹

The Reformed understand ‘have not works’ to be evidence of a dead faith since works always accompanies living faith much like ‘has not  breath’ is evidence that a human body is dead because breath always accompanies a living body. But we do not call a thing “dead” if it was never alive. Not having breath is only evidence of death in something that was alive at one time. We do not say that a rock is dead because it does not have breath. A rock is not the kind of thing that can be dead because it was never alive. 

Only that which was at one time living can ever be dead. Why? Because in order to be dead, a thing must die. A dead thing is that which has suffered death, and only living things can suffer death. Therefore, anything dead was at one time alive. 

St. James is not chastising men who never “truly believed” much like we would not pity a rock for being dead. This is because the rock was never alive (it never died). Rather St. James is chastising men whose faith had died, and we know this because he says that their faith is dead, and what is dead is that which has died. 

As we will see below, John Calvin thinks that the main point that St. James is making is that faith without works is not truly faith at all. But this does not comport with the language St. James is using. We do not say that this body is not truly a body because it is not breathing. We say rather that this body is a dead body because it is not breathing. 

Perhaps St. James is merely using metaphoric language as a poet might describe a “dead sky” or something else that ordinarily wouldn’t be called dead but has certain qualities that we associate with dead things. Yes perhaps. Or perhaps we should let St. James speak for himself. He goes on to write, “As the body apart from the spirit is dead, even so faith apart from works is dead.”² How is the faith apart from works dead according to St. James? It is dead in the same way that the body apart from the spirit is dead. That is to say, it is dead in the way that a body that has died is dead (not in the way that the sky is dead in a poem).

John Calvin on Dead Faith

After denying the Catholic distinction between formed and unformed faith, Calvin comments on this second chapter of James:

It appears from the first words, that he speaks of false profession of faith: for he does not begin thus, “If any one has faith;” but, “If any says that he has faith;” by which he certainly intimates that hypocrites boast of the empty name of faith, which really does not belong to them.³

According to Calvin, St. James is not speaking about men having some kind of flawed or unformed faith but about men falsely claiming to have faith. In fact, in Calvin’s opinion, the only reason St. James is using the word “faith” is for the sake of the argument. But this does not fit the texts we examined above. Further, in the same verse to which Calvin refers, St. James asks, “can that faith save him?”⁴ He does not ask “can he be saved?” The “faith” itself is precisely what is being questioned in this verse, not a man pretending to have it. 

Calvin goes on to write:

He says that faith is dead, being by itself, that is, when destitute of good works. We hence conclude that it is indeed no faith, for when dead, it does not properly retain the name. The Sophists plead this expression and say, that some sort of faith is found by itself; but this frivolous caviling is easily refuted; for it is sufficiently evident that the Apostle reasons from what is impossible, as Paul calls an angel anathema, if he attempted to subvert the gospel.⁵

Calvin here claims that it is easy to refute the proposition that there is some kind of faith without works. He then attempts and fails to refute it, leaving one to conclude that it is more difficult to refute than Calvin supposed. He believes that by this point in the commentary, he has already proved that St. James was using the word “faith” for the sake of the argument. But Calvin has not actually proved this, and we have strong reasons to reject this interpretation, as argued above. 

Calvin’s underlying thought seems to be that any true faith would necessarily be accompanied by works. Therefore, any so called “faith” without works is not true faith. So, when St. James says “faith” in these passages, he can only be using it as per impossible or hyperbolically as when St. Paul mentions angels being called anathema. 

We should first acknowledge, if only in passing, the irony of appealing to St. Paul’s hyperbole because of its context. St. Paul is warning the Galatians, who once accepted the true gospel, not to accept any other (even if it come from an angel). St. Paul is in no-wise implying that had they actually accepted the true gospel, it would be impossible to accept a different one. Rather he parallels the point St. James is making. St. Paul says that you have abandoned the gospel you received if you accept another and St. James says that your faith is dead (has died) if it is not producing works.

Further, Calvin’s own words betray the deficiency in his thought process. He says, “it is indeed no faith, for when dead, it does not properly retain the name.” But if something does not retain something, it means that at one time it had it and now it does not. It is impossible to retain what you do not have and it is impossible to not retain something you never had in the first place. If I said that the ancient Israelites did not retain the knowledge of quantum mechanics, I would be making a nonsensical statement because they never had that knowledge. It would be impossible to say that they either did or didn’t retain it. On the other hand, it would be perfectly rational to say that the ancient Israelites did not retain their fidelity to the God of Abraham when they (for example) worshipped the golden calf. 

We do not say that rocks retain their memories and likewise, we cannot say that rocks do not retain their memories. Neither of these sentences make sense because rocks never had memories. Again in like manner, if we say that “it” retains the name faith or does not, we are necessarily saying that at one time “it” had the name faith. 

Conclusion

The Catholic reading is more congruous with the Church fathers: 

As we saw in the previous two posts,⁶ the fathers understood that persevering in one’s faith, that is: maintaining one’s self in a state of grace, was necessary for salvation. This universal belief even led to certain errors that needed to be corrected. For example, the rigorists denied the possibility of being forgiven of mortal sin after baptism. 

On the other hand, there was a common abuse and misunderstanding of the proper application of the sacrament of baptism. Even up until the fourth century, so strong was this understanding of sacramental necessity, men were known to postpone baptism as long as possible. They did this because they did not want to receive forgiveness for their sins by baptism, and then sin again and thus fail to achieve salvation. This abuse was corrected, but the fact that it existed shows clearly that the Protestant idea of salvation by faith alone was wholly unknown to the early Church. Thus, John Calvin’s commentary would have made no sense to early Christians.

The Catholic reading is more congruous with the Scriptures:

The traditional Catholic reading of the book of James is more faithful to the text of James itself and more seamlessly integrated with the rest of the New Testament. John Calvin and his later followers did create a self-consistent systematic theology which integrates the entire New Testament. They have no difficulty harmonizing the various parts because they have built an interpretative lens on the doctrine of sola fide and have developed distinctions and clarifications to handle any passage that would seem to suggest something other than sola fide. But the Catholic reading of James is a good example of how the Catholic reading is superior. The Reformed have a systematic way to solve the problem texts, but for the Catholic, there is no problem to be solved. Only when one is wearing the Reformed “interpretative lens” do these certain verses and passages seem to be in conflict.

1. James 2:17
2. James 2:26
3. John Calvin Commentary on the Book of James
4. James 2:14
5. John Calvin Commentary on the Book of James
6. St. Ambrose on Sola Fide & St. John Chrysostom on Sola Fide

To summarize the relevant points made in the previous two posts:

1. When I say “sola fide’” or “faith alone” I mean most specifically as it was condemned by the Council of Trent.
2. It is possible to say that we are saved “by faith alone” in a way that is not contrary to the condemnations of the Council of Trent, but the Reformers did not use it in this way.
3. St. Ambrose operated within a sacramental framework that included things that the Reformers viewed as incompatible with sola fide. He was therefore a hypocrite or he did not mean faith alone in the way mentioned above (#1).
4. Aside from the one time St. Ambrose used the phrase “faith alone,” he wrote many other things that illustrate that he meant “faith alone” in the “Catholic” way, compatible with the Council of Trent.

With St. John Chrysostom, as well as every other Catholic saint, points numbers 3 and 4 are equally as applicable. ¹ So why am I bothering to write this separate blog post if it is redundant? There are two reasons: 1. This recent post at First Things listed St. John Chrysostom along with St. Ambrose as appearing to be closer to the ‘sola fide’ of the Reformers than to Rome. 2. St. John Chrysostom, unlike any other father that I know of, does use the phrase several times.  So let’s turn to an examination of his writings.

St. John Chrysostom is venerated among St. Ambrose, St. Augustine, and St. Athanasius as one of the four Church fathers supporting the cathedra (throne) of St. Peter at the basilica in Rome. Did this Church who canonized him as a Doctor of the Church, and who until this day celebrates his divine liturgy,² later change her mind and anathematize his teachings at the Council of Trent?  That seems unlikely prima facie, but let’s investigate. 

For this post I will change the format from the previous post to avoid redundancy and extrapolate additional argumentative points.  As I said, the arguments of the previous two posts, taken together, would suffice to show that St. John Chrysostom did not believe in sola fide as condemned by Trent if he wrote and believed similar things as his contemporary St. Ambrose, which he did. For example, in the previous post I pointed out that St. Ambrose interpreted the parable of the talents soteriologically and I explained the significance of this relating to sola fide.  St. John Chrysostom has the same interpretation of that parable, concluding “I mean about diligence in almsgiving, and about helping our neighbor by all means which we are able to use, since it is not possible to be saved in another way.” ³ What I will do below is examine some of the most relevant canons of the Sixth Council of Trent and compare them to the writings of St. John Chrysostom.

St. John Chrysostom and the Council of Trent on Justification

Salvation by faith apart from works is an important doctrinal emphasis for St. Chrysostom in a way that stands out among other fathers.  Of course, he is merely following the lead of St. Paul in the New Testament, but you could produce more quotations in support of “faith alone” from St. John Chrysostom than from St. Paul.  As bible students will know, St. Paul never actually used that phrase but St. John Chrysostom does, and he does so several times. There are other places where, although he doesn’t use the exact phrase, he clearly refers to the same principle.  The fundamental emphasis in both Sts. Paul and John Chrysostom, is that salvation is a free gift of God, not merited by man’s righteousness. This general principle is fully compatible with the Council of Trent:

CANON I.-If any one saith, that man may be justified before God by his own works, whether done through the teaching of human nature, or that of the law, without the grace of God through Jesus Christ; let him be anathema. ⁴ 

Contrary to the implication of certain lists of Church father quotes circulating on the internet, St. John Chrysostom uses the phrase “faith alone” to deny its sufficiency at least as often as he uses it to affirm. These passages using the term “faith alone” can be divided up into two categories: 1. Those that avail themselves to be interpreted in either the Catholic or Protestant way and 2. Those that avail themselves only to the Catholic interpretation. The second type are at least as numerous or perhaps more numerous than the first type. Below are two of the strongest quotes of the first type:

That those who were enemies, and sinners, neither justified by the law, nor by works, should immediately through faith alone be advanced to the highest favor.⁵

And:

“By grace you have been saved,” says he, “through faith”;  Then, that, on the other hand, our free-will be not impaired, he adds also our part in the work, and yet again cancels it, and adds, “And that not of ourselves.”⁶

The reader can visit this blog post “John Chrysostom on Justification by Faith” to see a list compiled by a Protestant scholar attempting to show St. John’s coherence in thought with the Protestant doctrine. Note that all the quotes that this author lists in his compilation are of the first type mentioned above (they can be interpreted either according to the Protestant way or the Catholic way) but not all of them use the term “faith alone” (it appears in 5 of the 11 quotations). However, the author did not include any of the second type of quotation (those that can only be interpreted in the Catholic way) that we will examine below. If one wanted to truly understand the thought of a Church father on a particular subject, it would be prudent to look both at passages that appeared to confirm a certain position and those that appeared to deny it.  Thus, here we are examining both types.⁷ Let’s look at the most relevant canon from Trent:

CANON IX.-If any one saith, that by faith alone the impious is justified; in such wise as to mean, that nothing else is required to co-operate in order to the obtaining the grace of Justification, and that it is not in any way necessary, that he be prepared and disposed by the movement of his own will; let him be anathema.⁸

The two passages of St. John Chrysostom that I quoted, along with those listed in the link provided, can be categorized as the first type of quotation mentioned above. Thus, it is possible to interpret these passages according to the Protestant way such that he would be guilty of anathema per that canon IX, had he been alive. We cannot ask him directly what he meant by “faith alone,” and whether he meant it “in such wise as to mean, that nothing else is required,” but we can look to his other writings for evidence of the way in which he meant it. While I believe I have offered a fairly thorough list of the first type of quotation (potentially Protestant or Catholic), below I will offer a sample, not a complete list, of the second type (exclusively Catholic).

That you may not then, when you hear that He has chosen us, imagine that faith alone is sufficient, he proceeds to add life and conduct. To this end, says he, has He chosen us, and on this condition, that we should be holy and without blemish.⁹

Here he explicitly denies that faith alone is sufficient for salvation.  Thus, he is either a confused and self-contradicting writer, or the first type of quotations ought to be interpreted in the Catholic way.  Again he comments on the Gospel of John:

Since though he has said here, He that believes in the Son has eternal life, and in the same place something even stronger, (for he weaves his discourse not of blessings only, but of their contraries also, speaking thus: He that believes not the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abides on him;) yet not even from this do we assert that faith alone is sufficient to salvation. And the directions for living given in many places of the Gospels show this. Therefore he did not say, This by itself is eternal life, nor, He that does but believe in the Son has eternal life, but by both expressions he declared this, that the thing does contain life, yet that if a right conversation follow not, there will follow a heavy punishment.¹⁰

From these two quotations, it is clear that St. John Chrysostom did not believe in the kind of justification by faith alone that was condemned at Trent. Let’s look at another aspect of the distinct Catholic position on justification:

CANON XII.-If any one saith, that justifying faith is nothing else but confidence in the divine mercy which remits sins for Christ’s sake; or, that this confidence alone is that whereby we are justified; let him be anathema. 

So would St. John Chrysostom fall on the Protestant side of this anathema or would he affirm the Catholic position? While commenting on the gospel of Matthew, he explains that Christ exhorts even believers that wicked actions will be judged precisely in order that they not put confidence in their faith alone. 

Then in order that not even these should put confidence in their faith alone, He discourses unto them also concerning the judgment to be passed upon wicked actions;¹¹

As mentioned already, St. John Chrysostom, like his contemporary St. Ambrose, is an eminent bishop in the early Catholic Church which is thoroughly sacramental in her soteriology.  Some aspects of that sacramentalism could be interpreted as compatible with certain Protestant versions of sola fide, but others cannot. For example, Martin Luther, while recommending Confession as a laudable practice, also says, “We have always urged that Confession should be voluntary and that the pope’s tyranny should cease.”¹² It was Martin Luther’s “theological novum”¹³ of sola fide that gave him the ability to consider confession to a priest as an optional, if laudable, practice.  But this is in tension with St. John Chrysostom’s quotation above. Further, the historical reality of the time in which he writes is that the sacrament of Penance (Confession) was always understood by the Catholic Church to be strictly necessary for the forgiveness of post-baptismal mortal sins. The only controversies about the sacramental forgiveness of sins were not concerning whether it was necessary for salvation but whether it was even possible. ¹⁴ But again, even if we are ignorant of history we can look to his own writings.

St. John Chrysostom confirms that the priest offers forgiveness of sins owing to authority that has been granted him by Christ writing, “What priests do here below God ratifies above,”¹⁵ and again “For not only at the time of regeneration, but afterwards also, they have authority to forgive sins.”¹⁶ But according to most versions of sola fide, the man who believes in Christ and yet sins after baptism is not actually in danger of condemnation. If that were the case, then the sacrament of Confession wouldn’t strictly be necessary. Well what does St. Chrysostom believe about it?

There is safety for you too who are strong, and this consists in making your hopes of salvation depend, next to the grace of God, on avoiding every act unworthy of this gift, and of God who gave it.¹⁷

Again he confirms his sacramental soteriology and the necessity of the priesthood: 

For transparent madness it is to despise so great a dignity, without which it is not possible to obtain either our own salvation, or the good things which have been promised to us. For if no one can enter into the kingdom of Heaven except he be regenerate through water and the Spirit, and he who does not eat the flesh of the Lord and drink His blood is excluded from eternal life, and if all these things are accomplished only by means of those holy hands, I mean the hands of the priest, how will any one, without these, be able to escape the fire of hell, or to win those crowns which are reserved for the victorious? ¹⁸

Here he confirms the necessity of baptism and the Eucharist for salvation.  Some Protestants might also affirm as much, but for example the Westminster Confession of Faith teaches that while the worthy recipient receives the merit of Christ in these sacraments, he does so only by an inward act of faith. ¹⁹ It is hard to imagine that St. John Chrysostom would agree with such a proposition as in this quote above, he does not say that faith alone saves and that the sacraments are coincidental signs of that faith.  He says rather that baptism and the Eucharist save or more specifically that they are necessary for salvation. Again, there is a way to interpret him as affirming the nominal and representational model of sacramentalism affirmed by the Reformed, but the point is that his writing is perfectly in line with, and more plainly interpreted according to Catholic soteriology.  Further, St. Chrysostom also teaches that sufferings are meritorious towards salvation:

“We who have not undergone any of their innumerable sufferings small or great, neglect our own salvation on account of a scorching sun and a little short lived heat and toil…”²⁰

Here he is teaching that if you are not suffering for Christ as some are, you need to be laboring. He scolds those who neglect this labor due to lack of fortitude because they are neglecting their “own salvation.” And:

Again, they who were not chastened are in no way unjustly treated; for it was possible for them, had they wished, to have used the longsuffering of God, to accomplish a most excellent change, and wondering at his tolerance, to have become ashamed at his exceeding forbearance, and one day to have gone over to virtue, and to have gained their own salvation by the punishment of others.²¹

On punishment of sins, the Council of Trent says:

CANON XXX.-If any one saith, that, after the grace of Justification has been received, to every penitent sinner the guilt is remitted, and the debt of eternal punishment is blotted out in such wise, that there remains not any debt of temporal punishment to be discharged either in this world, or in the next in Purgatory, before the entrance to the kingdom of heaven can be opened (to him); let him be anathema. 

The doctrine of sola fide is in conflict with this canon. But St. John Chrysostom’s writings are not. Commenting on 1 Timothy 5:22 and the rash laying on of hands (which Catholics hold as the Sacrament of Confirmation) he writes:

And he [St. Paul] explained the grievous danger of such a transgression [laying on of hands too quickly], by showing that so men will undergo the punishment of the sins perpetrated by others.²²

And again commenting on 1 Corinthians 3:12 he writes: 

For do not at sound of the word fire imagine that those who are burning pass into annihilation. And though he [St. Paul] call such punishment salvation, be not astonished.²³ 

These two passages clearly illustrate that St. John Chrysostom held the same orthodox position that his contemporaries and forefathers did: post baptismal sins require punishment. ²⁴

Now some of these passages could be written off by appealing to the Reformed distinction between justification and sanctification.  As I mentioned in my earlier post, that is not a good solution because this category of distinction did not exist in the early Church writings.  This is something that the Reformers began to teach in the sixteenth century. Thus, it would be anachronistic to read that distinction back into any of these passages. Moreover, one who is well read in the fathers will conclude, along with virtually every Church historian of note,²⁵ that the teachings of the early Church fathers were not in-line with the Protestant doctrine of Sola Fide.  Neither can St. John Chrysostom possibly be referring to works of charity, et al, as mere evidence of salvation.  In this final quotation before I conclude, he writes (again in the context of the parable of the talents):

For I am not myself able to believe that it is possible for one who has not labored for the salvation of his fellow to be saved.²⁶ 

The explanation of why this labor cannot possibly refer to mere evidence of salvation was given in the previous post where I examine St. Ambrose making the same point (because this point is made in the context of the parable of the talents).  

Conclusion

In this three part mini series I did three things: 1. Explained how and why the Scriptures, Church fathers, and Catholics today give various explanations for justification 2. I showed that St. Ambrose did not believe sola fide and 3. That St. John Chrysostom also did not believe sola fide.  The methods and explanations used here would apply to every other Church father as well but I do not intend to go through each Church father on the small list of those who appear (to the unlearned) to support the doctrine of sola fide.  I wil leave that task to the skeptic and hope that the reader has been convinced that a serious inquiry into the true teachings of the early Church fathers requires more than copy and pasting a list of quotations that one finds on the internet.

The doctrine of sola fide, again, may still be correct in spite of everything I’ve said, and some version of salvation “by faith alone” certainly is. But one who maintains sola fide, as professed by the Reformers and condemned by the Council of Trent, has no claim whatsoever to a continuity with the teachings of the early Christians. On the other hand, the Catholic Church, including the Council of Trent, certainly does. The affirmation of sola fide, especially as the sine qua non of the gospel, is the simultaneous affirmation of the irrational proposition that the apostles failed to pass this vital teaching on to their successors at all and that it was only rediscovered by Martin Luther 1,500 years later.

1. See this post “Salvation from the Perspective of the Early Church Fathers” for more examples from the Church fathers. Also see “St. Irenaeus on Justification”
2. The divine liturgy of St. John Chrysostom, along with the liturgy of St. Basil, is celebrated by the Eastern Catholic Churches as well as the Eastern Orthodox Churches throughout the world.
3. Homily on Matthew 78 ; see also this quotation regarding the same parable: “And the case of the man who buried the talent proves this: he was not reproached at least on account of his own life: for as regarded the deposit itself he did not turn out a bad man, since he restored it intact: nevertheless he did turn out a bad man as regarded his management of the deposit. For he did not double that which was entrusted to him; and so was punished. Whence it is manifest that even if we are earnest and well trained, and have much zeal about hearing the holy scriptures this does not suffice for our salvation. For the deposit must be doubled, and it becomes doubled when together with our own salvation we undertake to make some provision for the good of others.” – Homily on “If your enemy hunger, feed him”
4. All quotations from the Council of Trent in this post can be found under the Sixth Session
5. Homily 4 on 1 Timothy
6. Homily 4 on Ephesians
7. From this point on, I will examine only type 2 quotations. But I had already listed what I think are the two strongest examples of type 1 and linked to a compilation by a Protestant scholar listing what he presumably believes to be the 11 strongest examples of type 1 quotations. I have already given argumentation explaining why none of those types of passages must necessarily be interpreted in the Protestant way but rather avail themselves to either. This argumentation was given primarily in the post, How Are We Saved?
8. See the post “Trent and the Gospel” by Bryan Cross for an example of the continued Reformed denial of this and other canons. In the post, Cross proves that the Reformers have not yet shown the canons in question to be in conflict with the relevant Scripture passages.
9. Homily 1 on Ephesians
10. Homily 31 on John
11. Homily 69 on Matthew
12. See here https://bookofconcord.org/exhortationConfession.php Martin Luther, Book of Concord Concordia Edition
13. See McGrath, Iustitia Dei: A History of the Christian Doctrine of Justification (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 34,215 for a detailed explanation that Martin Luther’s theory of justification was both new and contrary to the justification believed by the early Church fathers.
14. cf. the Tertullian controversy, the Novatian schism, and the controversies St. Cyprian of Carthage dealt with after the Decian persecution. See also St. Ambrose, his contemporary, “On Repentance” where he deals with the so-called “rigorists” on this very issue.
15. On the Priesthood 3.5
16. Ibid. 3.6
17. Ibid. 4.1
18. Ibid. 3.5
19. Westminster Confession of Faith Chapter 28 & 29
20. Homily on “If your enemy hunger, feed him”
21. – Homily 1 on The Devil 7 –
22. Homily 1 On the Statutes
23. Homily 9 on First Corinthians
24. See St. Ambrose “On Repentance” for a contemporary example.
25. See especially McGrath, Allister Iustitia Dei: A History of the Christian Doctrine of Justification (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005) wherein this eminent Protestant scholar characterizes the early Church doctrine as “a ‘works-righteousness’ approach to justification.” Also see the excellent article by David Anders “Tradition I and Sola Fide” ; another general recommendation would be the various works of eminent patristic scholar and former Lutheran Jaroslav Pelikan.
26. On the Priesthood 6.10

This brief post will show that St. Ambrose of Milan did not believe in salvation “by faith alone” as professed by the Reformers, condemned by the Council of Trent, and generally held by most Protestants today. There are two reasons I am focusing on St. Ambrose: 1. He is one of the few Church fathers who ever used the term “faith alone.”  2. There is a recent article published at First Things that claims that some of the things that he and St. John Chrysostom said seemed closer to the justification taught by the Reformers than by Rome.

The internet has given modern Christians unprecedented access to the early Church writings. In the past centuries, even up until quite recently, many of those writings would have been much more difficult to acquire. This is a great thing, but unfortunately it has also led to many people believing that merely copying and pasting lists of Church father quotes amounts to an actual knowledge of their beliefs. Catholic apologists have been guilty of this many times, of course, but it is possible to engage in such a practice and be correct.  For example, if two men disagree on whether the Church fathers believed in sola scriptura, and they both produce a ‘copy & paste’ list of quotations, one of them will be right and one will be wrong, even if it is the case that neither of them has a deep knowledge of what the fathers believed. Nevertheless, there are some quotations within the works of Sts. Ambrose and Chrysostom, and a few others, that can easily mislead those uneducated in these matters. And since those quotations are readily found on the internet these days, it seemed fitting to write this explanation.

St. Ambrose on Sola Fide

St. Ambrose speaks at length about the necessary and primary role of faith in salvation. This should not be surprising since almost all of the Church fathers did the same thing and so do the Scriptures. But the doctrine of sola fide, as condemned by the Catholic Church, is not that faith is primary in salvation but that faith is the only contributing cause of salvation (to the arbitrary exclusion of other causes). I say arbitrary because they who hold it affirm its exclusion of works of charity, but do not affirm that it excludes grace. 

How are we to sort out this kind of confusion? In my previous post, I explained the causes of salvation as taught by the Council of Trent and how they are not in conflict with each other. I highly recommend reading that article before continuing with this one because it easily explains how and why the fathers said some things that appear to be harmonious with sola fide and other things that did not, as we will see below regarding St. Ambrose. 

Among the internet lists of Church father quotes, St. Ambrose is often erroneously credited with the following:

This is the ordinance of God, that he which believeth in Christ should be saved without works, by faith only, freely receiving remission of his sins. – Spurious St. Ambrose

The true author of this quote was Hilary the Deacon,¹ who is also known to have held the heretical view that second baptism was required for e.g. Arians who wanted to re-enter the Church.² This brings out another important point: Even if it were shown that any given Church father did actually believe in sola fide as condemned by Trent, it would mean at most that he was in error.³ 

St. Ambrose does however say the following (which I have not seen on any of these lists): 

If you pardon an armed man who was able to fight, do you not pardon him in whom faith alone waged the battle?⁴

This quotation is certainly compatible with sola fide as believed by the Reformers, but it would also be compatible with the official Catholic position if “faith” in “faith alone” is not meant to be opposed to other necessary truths concerning salvation. For example, if he meant “faith alone” in a sense that excluded grace, he would be mistaken. If he meant it as opposed to charity, he would be mistaken. I made this point more thoroughly in my previous post where I also cited Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI in support of the claim that there is a way of using “faith alone” that is not heretical.

WIth this in mind, how can we determine whether St. Ambrose means “faith alone” in the Protestant way that excludes such things as works of charity or whether he means it in the Catholic way?⁵ One option would be to assume that he means it in whichever way aligns with one’s own beliefs, to copy this quotation, and add it into a list of other fathers saying similar things, and then move along.  A better option, however, would be to study St. Ambrose himself and see if he ever said other things that would help us determine in which sense he meant “faith.” In fact, he does say other things that would help us understand what he meant here, as we will see below.  

First, by the time st. Ambrose writes, the Church already has a well-established dogma of soteriology that is thoroughly sacramental (including the infusion of grace rather than imputation) and the necessity of faith formed by love.⁶ This point alone is strong enough to prove that St. Ambrose could not have meant sola fide as taught by the Reformers unless he was a hypocrite. He would be actively serving, without critique or protest, as one of the Church’s most eminent bishops all the while believing that the Church was engaged in a sacramentalism that was essentially incompatible with the true gospel.⁷ But even if one does not know Church history enough to understand this point, the other writings of St. Ambrose himself help us understand that he cannot be using “faith alone” as a cause of salvation to the exclusion of certain other things like works of charity.

The above quote was taken from book I of his treatise on repentance. His primary audience is a group known as the rigorists who were the heirs of the Novation schism. These rigorists claimed that mortal sins committed after baptism could not be forgiven. St. Ambrose argues throughout the treatise that, on the contrary, Jesus gave the priests authority to forgive any sin and he urges his fellow clergy to grant absolution to the penitent so long as sufficient penance accompanies it. Again, this context alone shows that whatever St. Ambrose believed about justification, it was something quite different than the sola fide of the Reformers. Luther’s sola fide clearly has no room for post baptismal forgiveness of sins mediated by a priest.

But if that were still not enough to put the issue to rest, let’s examine a small selection of other things he is known to have written. This selection will be a mere representation; it will not be exhaustive by any means. While I do not know of any other place where St. Ambrose appears to lean Protestant, there are more quotations of strong Catholic implication than what I will produce here. In other words, the short Protestant leaning list above (one quotation) is, as far as I know, exhaustive. This longer Catholic leaning one below is only a sample.  

In the very same treatise he writes:

He calls each blessed, both him whose sins are remitted by the font, and him whose sin is covered by good works. For he who repents ought not only to wash away his sin by his tears, but also to cover and hide his former transgressions by amended deeds, that sin may not be imputed to him.⁸

Further in the preface of book V on the Christian Faith, in the context of the parable of the talents, he concludes his opening commentary with the following:

This is the word of the Lord, this is the precious talent, whereby you are redeemed. This money must often be seen on the tables of souls, in order that by constant trading the sound of the good coins may be able to go forth into every land, by the means of which eternal life is purchased.⁹

According to his explanation of the parable, the talents (salvation) received from God (by grace) do not, by their mere reception, guarantee salvation (eternal life). After receiving the gift it is necessary to use the gifts properly or else they cannot “purchase” eternal life. One might argue that this is not the correct interpretation of the parable but that is not the point. The point is that this is St. Ambrose’s interpretation and no one who believed that salvation was by faith alone, in the way that the Reformers believed it, could possibly have such an interpretation. 

Even some kind of Reformed nuance could not save this interpretation in favor of faith alone. For example, perhaps one would suggest that the lack of good works is mere evidence that the servant never actually received the gift. But since St. Ambrose is commenting on this particular parable, such a move is impossible. This is because the parable would make no sense at all if we supposed that the servant had not actually received the gift. The point is that the servant is being condemned precisely because he did receive the gift and then did not use it well. Therefore, St. Ambrose explains, this means that the servant will not be able to purchase eternal life. And again, if someone were to try and wiggle out of this with some other clever sophistry, he says elsewhere even more explicitly: 

We have also noted already that the blessedness of eternal life is the reward for good works.¹⁰

Let these three quotations suffice.

Conclusion

We can easily fall into the trap of uncritically accepting propositions that align with our strongly held convictions. For example, when we hear a proposition that paints an opposing political party in a bad light, we are quick to believe it, even without good reason. I think most of us have, at one time or another, too quickly believed a proposition only to find out later that we were wrong. The stronger one’s personal conviction in a particular ideology, the easier it will be for them to fall into this error. 

For example, I might believe that the state of North Dakota has a larger population than the state of South Dakota. But I probably don’t believe this very strongly or have much of a “conviction” about it. A simple investigation, or perhaps even a statement from someone who seems to know, is probably going to be enough to overturn my conviction. I am also not likely to scour the internet for quotations or claims supporting my position. If I did find some sources that seemed to support me, I would probably be more likely to investigate their credibility. On the other hand, when it comes to politics, I am less likely to do all of this because my political conviction is probably much stronger than my conviction about state populations. But since our religious convictions are the strongest of all, it usually takes very little evidence to convince us that we are already correct about what we believe. This is why these lists of quotations from Church fathers are popular and are frequently used by people who do not understand them. 

We have seen that St. Ambrose cannot legitimately be used to support the doctrine of sola fide, as understood by the Reformers. This is for the following reasons:

1. He is an eminent bishop of the Church operating within a sacramental framework that includes things that the Reformers viewed as incompatible with sola fide (including ongoing penance, alms-giving as meritorious, infused righteousness, etc.)
2. He believes that it is necessary for salvation that post-baptismal sins be forgiven by priests.
3. His own writings in several places illustrate that he holds views that are contrary to sola fide.

Finally, to reiterate, as I mentioned in this post and the previous one, it is possible to say that we are saved “by faith alone” in a non-heretical way. So where we find the phrase mentioned in the fathers (and we do find it, albeit sparingly) we might very much expect that they mean it in this way rather than in the heretical way that was condemned by the Council of Trent. Now, one might already guess that if we examine the other Church fathers who used the term in the same way we just examined St. Ambrose, we will come to the same conclusion about them (that is, that they are not using the term in the way that the Reformers used it).¹¹ One would be correct in this assumption. I do not intend to go through every Church father in this manner but because he was mentioned by the post in First Things and because his mentions of “faith alone” are most numerous among the fathers, I do intend to examine St. John Chrysostom next. For the other fathers, the skeptic will have to either do their own honest research or trust the scholarly consensus that the early Church did not believe in the sola fide of the Reformers.¹²

1. Bray, G. L. (2015). The Books of Homilies: A Critical Edition. Cambridge: James Clarke. Sermon 3, fn.17
2. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hilary_the_Deacon
3. Take for example, St. Thomas Aquinas apparently denying the Immaculate Conception. This means that he erred on that point and means nothing more.
4. St. Ambrose, On Repentance 1.5.25
5. Note: When the Reformed say “faith alone” they mean that faith is the “alone instrument” but it is not “alone in the person justified.” per Westminster Confession of Faith 11.2; i.e. they confess that other saving graces are there too.
6. Reformed also affirm that saving faith must be formed by love although they deny the infusion of God’s justice, and they reject the sacramental soteriology of the early Church. See Dr. David Anders on Tradition I and Sola Fide
7. See also Alister McGrath as cited in the previous article affirming that the justification as understood by the early Church was nestled within a thoroughly works-righteousness system.
8. St. Ambrose On Repentance 2.5.35
9. St. Ambrose De Fide Book V, Prologue.15
10. St. Ambrose On the Duties of the Clery 2.3.9
11. See this post “Salvation from the Perspective of the Early Church Fathers” for more examples from the Church fathers. Also see “St. Irenaeus on Justification”
12. See especially: McGrath, Iustitia Dei: A History of the Christian Doctrine of Justification (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005)