Joining a Reformed church, I felt like I belonged in some way now to the communion of saints—not just in my local church, but in all times and places. I had to get used to words like “liturgy” and “catechism.” (At the time, I didn’t even know that the Reformers recovered the ancient practice of catechism instruction and Rome only picked up on it as a way of countering the movement.) The public recitation of the creed and the confession of sin was jarring at first. It was a little off-putting to hear the pastor declare in Christ’s name that I am forgiven.
In recent years, a trickle of members—even ministers—in confessional Reformed and Presbyterian as well as Lutheran churches have converted to Roman Catholicism. Graduates of solid seminaries, they nevertheless wrestled with the Reformation for a while only to conclude that Rome is “home.” Reviewing recently the testimonies on a parachurch website that seeks to draw evangelicals and confessional Protestants to Rome, the recurring response of fellow travelers was “welcome home.”
Having engaged recently in conversations with two friends who have been drawn to Rome, I have wrestled myself with the question, Why? What’s up?
I know there are some who have a superficial knowledge of (and concern for) theological issues. They may be attracted to the cultural resources: a long and deeply thought-out moral theology that at least in its official positions is pro-life in a fuller sense than single-issue politics. They’re tired of bandwagons and bellicose leaders who appoint themselves spokespersons for the whole church. Thoughtful, if untheological, many younger Christians are drawn to the more mature character of Roman Catholic reflection on these issues. With cultural refinement and upward mobility, the evangelical churches of their youth can seem, well, tacky or at least shallow in comparison with the tradition in which Dante, Michelangelo, and Raphael were shaped.
But why would people who seriously embraced Reformation theology be drawn to Rome? It’s uncharitable and unwise to presume to know all of the factors in any case, much less to make that a rule for all the others. However, I have a few speculations.
Look at mainline Protestantism generally and you see a religion that is only tangentially related to Christianity. For many reflective souls, fundamentalism and evangelicalism have not proved to be adequate alternatives for the deep nurture in “the faith once for all delivered to the saints.”
So some give the Reformation a try. We are familiar now with the movement of many younger evangelicals into the Reformation orbit. As one who made this trek myself, I know the joy of discovering a church that is tied to the pre-Reformation church. In fact, it was a reformation, while evangelicalism in many ways has been a revolution. Starting over—rebooting—is the watchword from radical Anabaptists to Quakers to the myriad sects born in the hothouse of American revivalism all the way to the Emergent movement and Harvard’s Harvey Cox who calls for yet another “Great Awakening” that promises to take rudderless Protestants even further afield from the faith proclaimed by the Reformers. Weary of bandwagons and waiting for The Next Big Thing, many reflective Christians are looking for something more like The Old Big Thing. Like really old, even before America.
The Reformation introduced me to a great conversation. I couldn’t read Luther, Calvin, Vermigli, or Turretin without being caught up in centuries of Christian reflection. After wrestling with their views of God’s electing, redeeming, justifying, and sanctifying grace, I was disoriented at first by their views of preaching, the sacraments, the church and its ministry and order. They didn’t believe that preaching was just an edifying discourse about God, but was God’s own living speech.
Similarly, baptism and the Supper were not symbols of my decision and commitment, but God’s means of grace, signs and seals of his covenant promises to me in Christ. After deep wrestling with Scripture, I came to believe that including the children of believers in baptism was biblical and not just a hold-over from Roman Catholicism.