What Hath Luther Wrought?

On 31 October 1517, an Augustinian monk by the name of Martin Luther nailed to the door of the castle church of Wittenberg ninety-five propositions (or theses) he wished to have publicly debated. Protestants look back to this day as the beginning of the Reformation.

As with all things historical, such neat demarcations are more symbolic than they are actual. The history of the Protestant Reformation is complex and not easily compartmentalized into politics, theology and ecclesiastical abuses. Nor is it accurate to speak of a single, monolithic Reformation. There were actually several "reformations"--not the least of which were those of Luther, Calvin and the English reformers--and some of these reformations, such as those of the Anabaptists, were a continuation of those which had gone before.

Nonetheless, there were, and are, some important themes and doctrines which grew out of these reformations, such that Protestants, in all their variety, can lay claim to common mindsets. Teachings such as "Scripture alone" as the final arbiter of doctrine and theology, and salvation by "faith alone" through grace, are common deposits in the Protestant understanding.

Unfortunately, it is the very nature of the Protestant Reformation itself which undercuts these Protestant ideals. Specifically, the Protestant understanding of the Church, the nature of reform, and the related concept of schism, raise questions about the Protestant imperative.

I do not intend in this essay to answer definitively what are the Reformation understandings of Church, reform and schism. Far more competent historical and theological scholars than I have undoubtedly more authority to speak on these matters. Rather, my agenda is more broad. It is to trace the basic New Testament understanding of the unity of the Church and note what problems are raised by it from the Protestant ethos.

The Organic Nature of the Church

The most basic and prevalent New Testament teaching on the Church is that it is a body. It is clear from passages such as Ephesians 4 that this is more than just a literary metaphor, and is to be taken as a theological and ontological reality. (This is why marriage and Christ’s relationship to the Church are so closely intertwined in Ephesians 5.) That is to say, the Church is not an institution or an organization, but an organism. Or perhaps more accurately, the Church is personal.

This can be seen in the very concept of salvation. Though the Holy Trinity is the font, or source, of the grace by which we are saved, it is through the Spirit-directed witness of the Church in the proclamation of the Gospel that we come to faith. We are birthed, in faith, in the Church. We are not saved and then place our membership in some local group. Rather, our new birth takes place in the Church. When the ancient Christians speak of the Church as our mother, they were drawing on this organic understanding of the Church as the Bride of Christ. Thus the saying, "There is no salvation outside the Church," is radically true. Our new birth cannot but be in the Church.

More than that, the reality of our being various members of the Body, the Church, means that we by grace participate in the divine nature, as Peter says in his second epistle (1.4). Our very being is transformed as we, in the Church and as the Church, grow into our Head, Christ.

This organic understanding is very important. It obviously has implications for our practice of baptism and the Lord’s Supper. But, strange as it may sound to our Protestant ears, it also has extremely important implications for the governing of the Church in the historic episcopate. At least so it seems to me, though admittedly I am not competent to delineate all these implications. Rather, it is clear to me that this understanding radically impacts our Protestant understanding of the Reformation and of schism among our churches.

Questions of Reform and Restoration

A fairly common Protestant understanding of the Church is that of the Church as "reformed and always being reformed." That is to say, the Protestant agenda of reform in the Church is one that is both accomplished and ongoing. The work of the Reformation will remain incomplete, though we may achieve much, until the Second Coming.

But what is this reforming work? Indeed, can the Church, a living organism, the Body of Christ, actually be reformed? And if so, is this properly the work of fallen, if redeemed, humanity? This, it seems to me, is where some of the inherent weaknesses of the Protestant understanding of the Church begin to be seen.

I readily grant that human institutions, insofar as they divert from God’s will, can and should be reformed. Martin Luther’s just indignation at the debased practice of the sale of indulgences was an institution that needed reform. More to the point, the Roman Catholic institution of papal primacy and heavily centralized bureaucracy was similarly in need of reform.

I also concur that teaching and doctrine which depart from New Testament teaching, and the developed teaching of the historical Church in conformity with the Scriptures, likewise stand in need of reform. Teaching regarding the infallibility of the pope, the addition of the filioque to the ecumenical Creed, and the immaculate conception of Mary are all innovations to the clear witness of Scripture and the historical Church. These are things that can and should be reformed.

But is it proper to speak of a reform of the Church?

Some Protestant groups take reform a step further and speak of a restoration. My own heritage churches, in the Stone-Campbell movement, called themselves the Restoration Movement churches. But again, what is it that is being restored? If it is a restoration of New Testament institutions and teachings, then there may well be a place for restoration. But how would one restore the Church? Especially a Church, which Jesus’ promise in Matthew 16.18 emphatically states can not be lost?

Just as problematic is the question: Which reforms are the correct ones? And how can we know? The Reformation cry was, in part, that of sola Scriptura, Scripture alone. Yet it clearly has not been Scripture alone when it comes to the interpretation of Scripture. At least not to judge by all the contradictory interpretations on integral passages. Perhaps "Scripture alone" is lacking. Paul says ours is not a God of confusion. But one cannot tell that by the myriad Protestant interpretations of Scripture.

Schisms Great and Small

Perhaps the most obscene fruit of the Reformation is the sinful reality of the thousands upon thousands of schisms among Protestant churches. Each group conceives of itself as in some sense more correct than another, if the various groups reflect on this divisional reality at all. Some groups even define themselves either as the only ones who will get to heaven, or the only ones who can be certain that they will. And this in direct violation of our Lord’s prohibition against judging (Matthew 7.1-5).

The first Great Schism of 1054 occurred between east and west, what would later be called the Eastern Orthodox churches, and the western Roman Catholic churches. The Schism was primarily, though not exclusively, over the western churches’ insistence on the authority of the Roman bishop over all the other bishops of the Church, and the western insistence on the addition of the filioque to the Creed without the approval of the other bishops of the Church meeting in council. The eastern churches rightly, in my view, declared that these were innovations to the historic New Testament faith and practice of the Church. Political factors also entered the fray, and the western churches through the Roman bishop excommunicated the bishop of Constantinople, and by implication the other eastern bishops. Eventually, the bishop of Constantinople returned the favor, and the churches, east and west, which had grown increasingly isolated in culture and language over the preceding centuries, stood in impaired communion. More recently these mutual excommunications were formally lifted. This is remarkable in light of the fact that the Roman Catholic Crusaders sacked Constantinople during the Middle Ages, raping, murdering and pillaging their brothers and sisters in Christ. But though the excommunications have been lifted, a millennium of impaired communion and injustices, as well as perceived innovations in doctrine, are not easily overlooked.

Our churches themselves have come about in the division with Rome. The second, Western Schism is the division between Protestants and Rome. This, too, had political causes mixed in with those of doctrine. The reforms in what are now Germany and the United Kingdom were supported by rulers who were as anxious to get out from under the political thumb of the Roman bishop as they were zealous about the reform of the Church. Perhaps more so. I, of course, do not want to minimize the lives that were sacrificed for the cause of Christ’s Church, but we would do well to similarly recognize that the Reformation was not as purely theological as we would like.

Beyond that are the multitude of Protestant schisms from one another. In my own heritage churches, whose initial imperative was the visible unity of all churches, the first major division among the Stone-Campbell churches was that of whether or not the use of instruments was allowed or prohibited by the New Testament. Hermeneutical principle was given doctrinal force. Sadly, this just illustrates a terrible fact: Schism, division, is a fact of life for Protestants.

The Unity of the Church

Jesus’ prayer was for the unity of the Church (John 17). We Protestants rightly lament our divisions, and ponder how it is that we might be one as Jesus prayed. We know that a divided Church is contrary to the will of God, and have, particularly in the twentieth century, worked to achieve some form of visible unity.

But this begs the question: Can the Church, an organic unity, actually be divided? Jesus’ prayer, after all is that we might be one, as he and the Father are one. If there cannot be division in the Godhead, can there be division in the Church? Paul asks in 1 Corinthians 1, "Is Christ divided?" The answer of course is no. He further clarifies the impossibility of a divided Church in 1 Corinthians 3. It is clear that insofar as there are divisions, they are human, not of the Church. Rather, as he goes on to say in chapter 11, in that divisions and factions occur they reveal those who are genuine. The emphasis in Ephesians 4 (one Lord, one faith, one baptism) and the reiteration of no other foundation for the Church than that of Jesus Christ in 1 Corinthians 3 further stress the essential unity that obtains in the Church. Indeed, the most telling text on the unity of the Church may well be that of 1 Corinthians 12.

Many Protestants have, of necessity it seems, come to an understanding of the "invisible" Church. That is to say, no single group can claim to be the one true Church. Despite our human divisions, the Church is invisibly one, a unity, and we are individually members of the Church insofar as we have been united in Christ. (Thus the Protestant attempts at visible unity.)

But it seems to me that this understanding is deficient in two ways: It does not take seriously enough the organic, incarnational nature of the Church as Christ’s Body, nor does it take seriously enough those real divisions among us.

The "invisible" Church is far too Gnostic a concept. The beginnings of Gnosticism arose in the Church as early as the first century. Gnostics taught a separation between the physical world (as in some sense partaking in evil), and the spiritual world (which was of God). Thus, what was most important were spiritual matters. The body was just a worthless shell. One could either discipline it and thus master it for the spiritual world, or one could simply ignore any obligation to the body and so could engage in all sort of immorality since what was done in the body did not contaminate the spiritual. It is my contention that the Protestant understanding of an invisible Church shares the same problems of Gnosticism. It posits an ethereal membership in a spiritual body. It equates the Church largely with things unseen. But while this has some truth to it (after all those Christians who have died and gone into the presence of the Lord before us are also the Church though unseen), it is bound to have dualistic consequences which divorce spirit and body. If the Church is invisible and spiritual, then it follows that those things of the faith which are most important are also invisible and spiritual. Thus, it does not matter that there are myriad of divided congregations so much as one just takes part in one and acknowledges Christians in all the rest. But under this model the "Church" does not impact our daily living "in the world," and our faith life becomes more a matter of moral goodness than of ontological growth in Christ.

On the other hand, the contradictory teachings of the churches create massive incoherence and confusion. There is error somewhere, and the consequences are radically deep. It is not coherent to claim that the Church believes this or that, yet one’s own church holds contradictory beliefs as compared with another. It does not make sense that the Church would be so confused on these matters. Jesus promised to lead us into all truth. His promise means nothing if we just shrug and say, "Well, we’ll all find out whose right some day." This contradiction in teaching should be as grievous to us as our manifest divisions. How can we claim that Jesus is the Way, the Truth and the Life, when we live as though there is no Truth, as though doctrine really didn’t matter, because, after all, we’ll all get it figured out someday?

So if the Church is one and indivisible, as seems clear from the New Testament and the historic witness of the Church, whence these myriad divisions? Who has divided from whom? These are the questions we Protestants must answer.

It seems to me that if the Church is what the Scriptures say it is, then we should be able to trace it historically and in the reality of our current life. We should be able to say, "There it is," even if we cannot say, and are even prohibited from saying, "There it is not."

The unity of the Church is the Protestant problem. We would do well to reflect on that and live in the light of the Truth.

© 2002 Clifton D. Healy

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