Here is a very important conclusion to this matter. Lest we think that Protestants are any better than Catholics (or Adventists), we should carefully consider the following:
NO PLACE FOR SELF-RIGHTEOUSNESS
In conclusion, I would be remiss not to point out how inconsistent (perhaps even hypocritical) it is of evangelicals to criticize Roman Catholics while they themselves are ignorant of, or even reject, the very Evangel they claim to protect. Very often evangelical preachers and laypeople speak of being saved by “being born again,” and this expression, much less the emphasis, conveys the same impression we find explicit in the Council of Trent: that justification (that is, being made right with God) is identical to the new birth and sanctification rather than specifically linked to faith in Christ and imputation.
Earlier, I mentioned the Pelagian heresy and the stand the Roman church took (with Augustine) against this destructive teaching. Denying original sin, Pelagianism argues that human nature is not corrupted by the Fall; we sin by following Adam’s poor example but not because we have inherited a corrupt nature. Therefore, all the human race needs is just enough grace to get us going in the right direction so that we will follow the right example, Jesus Christ. In this way we can get back on track (that is, be “saved"). This heresy, repudiated regularly and consistently by the Roman church, is nevertheless embraced by such noteworthy evangelicals in this country as the nineteenth-century revivalist Charles Finney and by a growing flank of evangelical thinkers in the twentieth. It is gaining a wider hearing in evangelical circles today, just as it had in the earlier part of this century, as the optimistic core of the modernist gospel.13
Though Rome may not maintain an official commitment to the gospel in its insistence on justification by grace alone through faith alone, surely, judging by history, it has been no less faithful than Protestants in the last two centuries in defending the doctrine of grace in general. Entire denominations that were committed confessionally to the doctrine of justification have ended up adopting, in actual practice, a Pelagian message. When evangelicals deny human depravity and inability, affirm that human beings cooperate in their own conversion by the use of their free will, and view salvation as a project of moral improvement (especially when that affirms a notion of entire sanctification), they are further afield from the gospel than Rome has ever been.
When it comes to the evangelical doctrine itself, where is the emphasis on the objective work of Christ outside of us, in history? It has taken a back seat, it seems, to spirituality, piety, morality, social and political crusades, inner healing, and psychologized inwardness. No longer are we saved from sin by grace; we are now healed from neuroses by therapy. No longer is condemnation by God for our sins our greatest fear but condemnation by ourselves for our negative self-image. No medieval theologian or mystic could improve on the inwardness of evangelical spirituality in our day. The interior experiences of the Christ within are heralded, while the objective, external work of Christ on the cross, dying for our sins and being raised for our justification, is largely ignored.
My own experience has led me to conclude that most of our people cannot even define justification. In fact, 84 percent of the evangelicals surveyed said that in the matter of salvation, “God helps those who help themselves,” and well over half even thought it was a biblical quotation. Seventy-seven percent of “evangelical” Christians believe that human beings are basically good.14 This means that 77 percent of evangelicals are Pelagian, well beyond the ranks even of traditional Roman Catholic understanding.
These things must be said because I am convinced that we need a second Reformation, but it will not be a reformation in which insults and caricatures will be hurled from Protestants who wonder why Catholics still have not gotten the message; it will be just as heated a debate within Protestantism because of unprecedented unfaithfulness to the Word of God. Who can deny that Protestants have led the way in the twentieth century away from a high view of Scripture and God’s grace in Christ? Which branch of the church has done more to lower the doctrine of Christ to a mere moral example? Which church has gone so far as to deny original sin and affirm the goodness of human nature? Which tradition has done so much to deny not only the sufficiency, but even the reliability of the Word of God? In short, which branch of Christendom has so carelessly capitulated to the spirit of the age?
For these reasons and more, many conservative Protestants correctly perceive in Rome a degree of faithfulness–at least in its official declarations. (One must beware of the degree to which Roman Catholic theologians are now carriers of the modern Protestant virus, as Robert Strimple points out in chapter 4.) The temptation is to abandon an uncertain, confused Protestantism–and even an evangelicalism that is, in James Hunter’s words, “a tradition in disarray"–in order to be part of something that, though it may not have it all right, looks better on a scale of 1-10. I know these temptations and have experienced them myself. Nevertheless, here is where we must constantly remind ourselves of the difference: In Protestantism, an unreformed church–regardless of how unfaithful–may, in principle, be reformed. The Roman Catholic Church, by contrast, will never repudiate its own condemnation of the Evangel until it repudiates the infallibility of the Council of Trent and the popes who have endorsed it. This is the issue upon which authentic ecumenical dialogue must turn. I do not suggest that we should give up trying to seek visible unity, nor that we refuse to dialogue with Roman Catholic laypeople and theologians, many of whom may be our brothers and sisters.
To conclude by returning to the opening query, “What still keeps us apart?” my own reply at the end of a century of Protestant “truth decay” (as Os Guinness has expressed it) is, “Nothing.” Absolutely nothing keeps evangelicals and Catholics apart if evangelicals abandon the distinctive convictions that have made the past divisions so painfully necessary. We need to seek a reformation of both of our traditions.
That will require, on the part of Protestants, a return to Scripture and its Evangel and, for Rome, a repudiation of its anathema on the gospel. Though we may not agree with the total package, mark well the words of the Roman Catholic theologian Johann Baptist Metz:
To speak about the Reformation and make it, not just an object of remembrance, but an object of hope, indeed an incentive to change – change for all of us, including myself as a Catholic – means one thing: we must bring that question and that awareness which inspired the Reformation into a relationship with the present age. . . . Many theologians writing about the Reformation assure us nowadays that Luther’s famous fundamental question regarding a gracious God can scarcely be made intelligible to people today, let alone communicated as relevant to their lives. This question is said to belong to another, noncontemporary world. I do not share this position at all. The heart of the Reformation’s question –How can we attain to grace? – is absolutely central to our most pressing concerns. . . . The second Reformation concerns all Christians, is coming upon all of us, upon the two great churches of our Christianity.”
Is this beyond the sovereignty of God’s Spirit to accomplish? With Christ, in His reply to the disciples, we prayerfully answer, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible”.
Soli Deo Gloria,
Stan