Theological Diversity and Ecclesial Division
Pope John Paul II termed the second millennium of Christian history “the era of Christian division.”1 It is an apt description, as this era saw the formalization of many divisions between Christians. Division grew from acrimonious politics, mutual distrust, cultural chauvinism, and sometimes, real disagreements in theology. As the contemporary participants in ecumenical dialogues attempt to discern what differences are properly theological and which require division, they have often discovered much more commonality than they expected. But real differences remain.
Which theological differences are worthy of the designation “church-dividing ” is dependent on context. Churches that have inherited a broken communion seem to require a higher standard of theological unity to reestablish visible unity than would be required to maintain it. When the delegates to the Lutheran World Federation’s (LWF) 1963 Assembly in Helsinki were unable to agree on a statement about justification in the modern world, it was a source of frustration, but not a reason for disunion among the LWF churches.2 Among Catholics, the case of the Society of St. Pius X (SSPX) is illuminative. The leaders of this group were formally excommunicated by participating in extracanonical ordinations, not because of their doctrine. Nevertheless, it is continued theological dissent from official teaching that prevents their return to full participation in the church’s common life.3 Holding positions at the border of orthodoxy, or even beyond it, may not in itself separate a group from the church. Remaining in communion can provide a space for variant positions to be heard. On the other hand, once the border is closed, dissenters will not be allowed to define their position as falling within the catholica. This is a consequence of the Vincentian canon , which defines orthodox catholic belief as that which is believed by the church.4
The locations of ecclesial boundaries were very much at issue in the sixteenth-century debates. The summary of the first part of the Augsburg Confession (AC) was written in 1530 when there was still hope for unity:
This is nearly a complete summary of the teaching among us. As can be seen, there is nothing here that departs from the scriptures or the Catholic Church, insofar as we can tell from its writers. Because this is so, those who claim that our people are to be regarded as heretics judge too harshly. The entire dissension concerns a few specific abuses, which have crept into the churches without any proper authority.5
This is quite a different tone than that taken by the Formula of Concord (FC), written in 1580, well after both schism and polemic had become normative. In describing the situation of the AC, the formerly irenic tone has become combative:
[T]he opposition regarded this genuine Reformation as a new teaching, as if it were totally contrary to God’s word and established Christian practices. They attacked this Reformation vigorously but without foundation and brought charges against it filled with the wildest lies and accusations. This caused the Christian electors, princes, and estates, who had at that time accepted the pure teaching of the holy gospel and had reformed their churches in Christian fashion according to the Word of God, to arrange for the presentation of a Christian confession composed on the basis of God’s Word at the great imperial assembly in Augsburg in 1530. They submitted it to Emperor Charles V as their clear and unequivocal Christian confession of what is held and taught in the Christian, Evangelical churches, regarding the most important articles of the faith—particularly regarding those things that had become matters of controversy between them and the pope’s adherents. This elicited a churlish reaction from their opponents, but, praise God, this confession has endured to this day, without being refuted or overturned.6
By 1580, the situation of the argument had shifted. There was no longer room to argue that both Lutherans and Catholics belonged to the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic church. Instead, the Lutherans could only argue that they were the church against the claim of the Romans. This shift is not unique to the Lutheran side, although it is clearer in their writings because the burden of proof remained with them in 1530. The papal party did not feel the need to prove its catholicity then or later. But the same shift is visible in the Roman Confutation of the Augsburg Confession (CAC). While this document threatens military action should the reformers not accept its position wholesale, it recognizes that “the Elector, princes, and estates agree on many of the articles with the catholic and Roman Church. Further, these same authorities also condemn and reject the godless teachings that have been spread by pamphlet among the German people.”
7 It admonishes the Lutherans, therefore, to “come to agreement,” so as to “prove obedient to the Christian faith and the catholic and Roman Church.”
8 These are requests addressed to the fringes of the church, not to those outside it. They are a final plea for unity before a division point is reached. By the time of the Council of Trent, the Lutheran position, or at least the Council’s understanding of the Lutheran position, is anathematized as fully outside the bounds of the faith.
Justification and the Reformation
Justification can be called the nexus of the Reformation-era debates. Other issues, especially liturgical, sacramental, and ecclesiological questions, were strenuously debated and contributed to the eventual schism, but these disputes were understood, especially from the Lutheran perspective, to be effects of disunity on the topic of justification.9
The Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification (1999)
The Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification, signed by the Roman Catholic Church and the LWF in Augsburg, Germany, on October 31, 1999, is an unparalleled ecumenical event.10 It is the only signed bilateral agreement between the Roman Catholic Church and a Protestant communion. The topic of agreement is the central issue to the sixteenth-century debate. Its contribution to the cause of church unity cannot be overlooked.
The Joint Declaration proclaims that the condemnations on justification that were made by the Lutheran confessions and the Council of Trent do not apply to the contemporary dialogue partner’s positions. It bases this declaration on a “differentiated consensus ,” that is, a consensus in which the parties arrive at common statements that are then differentially applied within the habitual language of each. While the Joint Declaration does not use the language of “differentiated consensus,” its very structure demonstrates that such a consensus is present in it. Each subsection begins with a common paragraph and continues with Lutheran and Roman Catholic explanations.11 Despite the declaration ofconsensus , both Lutherans and Roman Catholics have questioned whether this consensus is adequate to their own traditions of teaching, and both have asked whether the partner’s positions are fairly represented. Most foundationally, both have asked whether a consensus can be differentiated and remain a true consensus.
Outline of the Project
In this book, I begin to answer these questions. The first part lays out the problem. A chapter on the history of the Joint Declaration’s development is followed by a chapter engaging the principal critics of the agreement. It will become clear that the critiques fall into two different types: those related to the content of the faith as it is presented in the JDDJ and those related to the possibility of a differentiated consensus at all. The second of these categories is far more foundational. Before examining particular questions of content it will be necessary to ask whether a differentiated consensus is possible, and if so, what a successful one would look like.
The second part, then, represents a kind of “zooming out,” to the bigger question of consensus in ecumenical dialogue. Chapter 4 attends to contemporary ecumenical considerations of what constitutes a consensus. Chapter 5 directly considers differentiated consensus. It will become clear that while differentiated consensuses have been recognized by dialogue participants, there is still no adequate explanation as to why they might be possible. George Lindbeck’s famous The Nature of Doctrine begins to show that theological language works in this way, without providing an explanation as to why. The sixth chapter therefore zooms out another level, to consider differentiated consensus in light of human language and cognition. It considers the insights of contemporary cognitive linguists regarding language structure, especially the role cognitive blending plays in the construction of meaning. Here, the reason will become clear that a differentiated consensus might be possible, and in fact necessary, when mediating between different traditions of discourse. I am especially indebted to the work of Robert Masson in relating these insights to theology.12 In this book, I develop his proposal in order to understand what happens when two Christian traditions of theological discourse seek to agree on questions that have historically divided them.
Part III applies the theory developed in the second part. I examine one theological locus in the JDDJ: the anthropology of the baptized Christian. It makes a felicitous test case for several reasons. First, it represents a section of the Joint Declaration that has received considerable examination and challenge. The Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF) and the Pontifical Council for the Promotion of Christian Unity (PCPCU) pointed to this question as the first topic requiring more investigation in their initial public engagement with the JDDJ.13 Specifically, they wondered how Catholics might be able to understand the Lutheran description of the Christian as simul iustus et peccator [at the same time just and a sinner] given their own theological commitments. On the other side, Lutherans have objected to the approval that the JDDJ gives to the Council of Trent’s canon stating that concupiscence in the baptized is not properly speaking sin.14 This objection points to another felicitous characteristic of the test case: there are important sixteenth-century theological loci on both sides of the debate. Not only are there sufficient data about the contemporary dialogues and the evolution of the JDDJ, but there is sufficient data available in the documents of the Reformation era. This breadth of sources allows a study of whether the JDDJ’s proposed solution solves the problem both as it is understood now and as it was articulated then.
Chapters 8 and 9 approach the question from Roman Catholic theology, specifically from a consideration of concupiscence in the baptized. I argue that Trent’s insistence that concupiscence is not sin stems from a particular understanding of sin and from a desire to protect the efficacy of the sacrament of baptism. Trent recognizes that the concupiscence remaining in Christians is no indifferent reality, even if it is not sin, “properly speaking.” This sets up a double vision of the Christian as someone who is saved by incorporation into Christ by the Holy Spirit, but has no...