Stanley Hauerwas on Reformation Sunday
http://www.calledtocommunion.com/2009/10/stanley-hauerwas-on-reformation-sunday/
29 October 1995
by Stanley Hauerwas
Joel 2:23-32 – 2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18 –
Luke 18:9-14
Wittenberg Door
I must begin by telling you that I do
not like to preach on Reformation Sunday. Actually I have to put it more
strongly than that. I do not like Reformation Sunday, period. I do not
understand why it is part of the church year. Reformation Sunday does not name
a happy event for the Church Catholic; on the contrary, it names failure. Of
course, the church rightly names failure, or at least horror, as part of our
church year. We do, after all, go through crucifixion as part of Holy Week.
Certainly if the Reformation is to be narrated rightly, it is to be narrated as
part of those dark days.
Reformation names the disunity in which
we currently stand. We who remain in the Protestant tradition want to say that
Reformation was a success. But when we make Reformation a success, it only ends
up killing us. After all, the very name ‘Protestantism’ is meant to denote a
reform movement of protest within the Church Catholic. When Protestantism
becomes an end in itself, which it certainly has through the mainstream
denominations in America, it becomes anathema. If we no longer have broken
hearts at the church’s division, then we cannot help but unfaithfully celebrate
Reformation Sunday.
For example, note what the Reformation
has done for our reading texts like that which we hear from Luke this morning.
We Protestants automatically assume that the Pharisees are the Catholics. They
are the self-righteous people who have made Christianity a form of legalistic
religion, thereby destroying the free grace of the Gospel. We Protestants are
the tax collectors, knowing that we are sinners and that our lives depend upon
God’s free grace. And therefore we are better than the Catholics because we
know they are sinners. What an odd irony that the Reformation made such
readings possible. As Protestants we now take pride in the acknowledgment of
our sinfulness in order to distinguish ourselves from Catholics who allegedly believe in works-righteousness.
Unfortunately, the Catholics are right.
Christian salvation consists in works. To be saved is to be made holy. To be
saved requires our being made part of a people separated from the world so that
we can be united in spite of — or perhaps better, because of — the world’s
fragmentation and divisions. Unity, after all, is what God has
given us through Christ’s death and resurrection. For in that death and
resurrection we have been made part of God’s salvation for the world so that
the world may know it has been freed from the powers that would compel us to kill one another
in the name of false loyalties. All that is about the works necessary to save
us.
For example, I often point out that at
least Catholics have the magisterial office of the Bishop of Rome to remind
them that disunity is a sin. You should not overlook the significance that in
several important documents of late, John Paul II has confessed the Catholic
sin for the Reformation. Where are the Protestants capable of doing likewise?
We Protestants feel no sin for the disunity of the Reformation. We would not
know how to confess our sin for the continuing disunity of the Reformation. We
would not know how to do that because we have no experience of unity.
The magisterial office — we Protestants
often forget — is not a matter of constraining or limiting diversity in the
name of unity. The office of the Bishop of Rome is to ensure that when
Christians move from Durham, North Carolina to Syracuse, New York, they have
some confidence when they go to church that they will be worshiping the same
God. Because Catholics have an office of unity, they do not need to restrain
the gifts of the Spirit. As I oftentimes point out, it is extraordinary that
Catholicism is able to keep the Irish and the Italians in the same church. What
an achievement! Perhaps equally amazing is their ability to keep within the
same church Jesuits, Dominicans, and Franciscans.
I think Catholics are able to do that
because they know that their unity does not depend upon everyone agreeing.
Indeed, they can celebrate their disagreements because they understand that our
unity is founded upon the cross and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth that
makes the Eucharist possible. They do not presume, therefore, that unity
requires that we all read Scripture the same way.
This creates a quite different attitude
among Catholics about their relation to Christian tradition and the wider
world. Protestants look over to Christian tradition and say, ‘How much of this
do we have to believe in order to remain identifiably Christian?’ That’s the
reason why Protestants are always tempted to rationalism: we think that
Christianity is to be identified with sets of beliefs more than with the unity
of the Spirit occasioned through sacrament.
Moreover, once Christianity becomes
reduced to a matter of belief, as it clearly has for Protestants, we cannot
resist questions of whether those beliefs are as true or useful as other
beliefs we also entertain. Once such questions are raised, it does not matter
what the answer turns out in a given case. As James Edwards observes, “Once
religious beliefs start to compete with other beliefs, then religious believers
are — and will know themselves to be — mongerers of values. They too are
denizens of the mall, selling and shopping and buying along with the rest of
us.”
In contrast, Catholics do not begin
with the question of “How much do we need to believe?” but with the attitude
“Look at all the wonderful stuff we get to believe!” Isn’t it wonderful to know
that Mary was immaculately conceived in order to be the faithful servant of
God’s new creation in Jesus Christ! She therefore becomes the firstborn of
God’s new creation, our mother, the first member of God’s new community we call
church. Isn’t it wonderful that God continued to act in the world through the
appearances of Mary at Guadalupe! Mary must know something because she seems to
always appear to peasants and, in particular, to peasant women who have the
ability to see her. Most of us would not have the ability to see Mary because
we’d be far too embarrassed by our vision.
Therefore Catholics understand the
church’s unity as grounded in reality more determinative than our good feelings
for one another. The office of Rome matters. For at least that office is a
judgment on the church for our disunity. Surely it is the clear indication of
the sin of the Reformation that we Protestants have not been able to resist
nationalistic identifications. So we become German Lutherans, American
Lutherans, Norwegian Lutherans. You are Dutch Calvinist, American Presbyterians,
Church of Scotland. I am an American Methodist, which has precious little to do
with my sisters and brothers in English Methodism. And so we Protestant
Christians go to war killing one another in the name of being American, German,
Japanese, and so on.
At least it becomes the sin of Rome
when Italian Catholics think they can kill Irish Catholics in the name of being
Italian. Such divisions distort the unity of the Gospel found in the Eucharist
and, thus, become judgments against the church of Rome. Of course, the Papacy
has often been unfaithful and corrupt, but at least Catholics preserved an
office God can use to remind us that we have been and may yet prove unfaithful.
In contrast, Protestants don’t even know we’re being judged for our disunity.
I realize that this perspective on
Reformation Sunday is not the usual perspective. The usual perspective is to
tell us what a wonderful thing happened at the Reformation. The Reformation
struck a blow for freedom. No longer would we be held in medieval captivity to
law and arbitrary authority. The Reformation was the beginning of
enlightenment, of progressive civilizations, of democracy, that have come to
fruition in this wonderful country called America. What a destructive story.
You can tell the destructive character
of that narrative by what it has done to the Jews. The way we Protestants read
history, and in particular our Bible, has been nothing but disastrous for the
Jews. For we turned the Jews into Catholics by suggesting that the Jews had
sunk into legalistic and sacramental religion after the prophets and had
therefore become moribund and dead. In order to make Jesus explicable (in order
to make Jesus look like Luther — at least the Luther of our democratic
projections), we had to make Judaism look like our characterization of
Catholicism. Yet Jesus did not free us from Israel; rather, he engrafted us
into the promise of Israel so that we might be a people called to the same
holiness of the law.
I realize that the suggestion that
salvation is to be part of a holy people constituted by the law seems to deny
the Reformation principle of justification by faith through grace. I do not
believe that to be the case, particularly as Calvin understood that Reformation
theme. After all, Calvin (and Luther) assumed that justification by faith
through grace is a claim about God’s presence in Jesus of Nazareth. So
justification by faith through grace is not some general truth about our need
for acceptance; but rather justification by faith through grace is a claim
about the salvation wrought by God through Jesus to make us a holy people
capable of remembering that God’s salvation comes through the Jews. When the
church loses that memory, we lose the source of our unity. For unity is finally
a matter of memory, of how we tell the story of the Reformation. How can we
tell this story of the church truthfully as Protestants and Catholics so that
we might look forward to being in union with one another and thus share a
common story of our mutual failure?
We know, after all, that the prophecy
of Joel has been fulfilled. The portents of heaven, the blood and fire, the
darkness of the sun, the bloody moon have come to pass in the cross of our
Savior Jesus Christ. Now all who call on that name will be saved. We believe
that we who stand in the Reformation churches are survivors. But to survive we
need to recover the unity that God has given us as survivors. So on this
Reformation Sunday long for, pray for, our ability to remember the Reformation
– not as a celebratory moment, not as a blow for freedom, but as the sin of the
church. Pray for God to heal our disunity, not the disunity simply between
Protestant and Catholic, but the disunity in our midst between classes, between
races, between nations. Pray that on Reformation Sunday we may as tax
collectors confess our sin and ask God to make us a new people joined together
in one might prayer that the world may be saved from its divisions.
(Stanley Hauerwas is the
Gilbert T. Rowe Professor of Theological Ethics at Duke Divinity School.)
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