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[ Citation Page ] A Theology of Ecclesial Charisms with Special Reference to the Paulist Fathers and The Salvation Army by James Edwin Pedlar A Thesis submitted to the Faculty of Wycliffe College and the Department of Theology of the Toronto School of Theology in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in Theology awarded by the University of St. Michael's College. © Copyright by James E. Pedlar 2013 [ Page i ] A Theology of Ecclesial Charisms With Special Reference to the Paulist Fathers and The Salvation Army James Edwin Pedlar Doctor of Philosophy in Theology University of St. Michael’s College 2013 ABSTRACT This project proposes a theology of “group charisms” and explores the implications of this concept for the question of the limits of legitimate diversity in the Church. The central claim of the essay is that a theology of ecclesial charisms can account for legitimately diverse specialized vocational movements in the Church, but it cannot account for a legitimate diversity of separated churches. The first major section of the argument presents a constructive theology of ecclesial charisms. The scriptural concept of charism is identified as referring to diverse vocational gifts of grace which are given to persons in the Church, and have an interdependent, provisional, and sacrificial character. Next, the relationship between charism and institution is specified as one of interdependence-in-distinction. Charisms are then identified as potentially giving rise to a multiplicity of diverse, vocationally-specialized movements in the Church, which are normatively distinguished from churches. The constructive argument concludes by claiming that the theology of ecclesial charisms as proposed supports visible, historic, organic unity. The constructive proposal is then tested against the history of two specialized movements: the Paulist Fathers and The Salvation Army. The investigation begins with the charism of each founder. Isaac Hecker’s charism is identified as that of an evangelist for [ Page ] ii America, and William Booth’s charism as that of an evangelist for the neglected. Next, the formation of each movement is examined, with an emphasis on the ways in which each movement was formed around its respective charism. In the following chapter, the ecclesiological assumptions of each movement are analyzed in relation to the normative proposals of this project. Finally, the ongoing interpretation of the charism in each movement’s later history is investigated. In the concluding section, the main arguments of the constructive proposal are re-visited in light of the findings of the historical case studies, with particular focus on questions of division, reform, and unity. While the proposed theology of ecclesial charisms grants specialized movements a legitimate and important place in the Church, it excludes any attempt to justify separation on the basis of an appeal to an ecclesial charism. [ Page ] iii ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS I am grateful to the many people who have helped me to bring this project to completion. First of all, I must thank my thesis director, Ephraim Radner, whose watchful eye and profound knowledge of historical theology sharpened my arguments and pushed me to consider many questions I would not have considered on my own. Prior to her death, Margaret O’Gara had played an important part in helping me to shape this project, and I am saddened that I was not able to complete it in time to hear her comments on the finished product. Joseph Mangina has been my teacher throughout my theological studies, and his guidance has shaped this project, as well as my broader theological perspective in a very significant way. Gilles Mongeau graciously agreed to step into Margaret’s place after her passing. I am thankful for the wisdom he shared with me concerning this topic and many others during my time on the staff of the Canadian Council of Churches. Several other colleagues at the Council shared in significant conversation about the project, including Mary Marrocco, Robert Steffer, and Paul Ladouceur. Howard Snyder has been an informal mentor over the past several years, and has proved an important interlocutor, especially on matters of ecclesial renewal and reform. Crucial research assistance regarding primary sources was provided by the staff of the Interlibrary Loans department at the University of Toronto, as well as by Colonels John and Verna Carew at The Salvation Army Archives in Toronto, and the staff of The Salvation Army’s International Heritage Centre in London, UK. I am also grateful to Fr. Paul Lannon, CSP, who shared a conversation with me about the Paulist Fathers at an early stage in the project. My parents, parents-in-law, and family members have provided great encouragement along the way. Most importantly, I must thank my wife, Samantha, for her unwavering love, support, and patience, without which this project would never have been completed. [ Page ] iv TABLE OF CONTENTS Acknowledgements .... vii I. INTRODUCTION .... 1 Method and Procedure .... 8 II. A THEOLOGY OF ECCLESIAL CHARISMS II.1 A BIBLICAL THEOLOGY OF CHARISMS .... 15 The Pauline Theology of Charisms .... 16 Pentecost and Charisms as First-Fruits of the Spirit .... 26 Charisms and Israel .... 30 Charisms and Groups in the Bible? .... 37 Summary: Biblical Theology for Ecclesial Charisms .... 43 II.2 CHARISM AND INSTITUTION .... 44 Institution and Charism: A Typology of Views .... 50 What is an Institution? .... 61 Distinct but not Opposed .... 65 Distinct but Interdependent .... 67 Oversight as Charism .... 69 The Charismatic Institutional Church and the Institutional Charismatic Movement .... 71 II.3 CHARISMS AND MOVEMENTS .... 73 Charisms and Catholic Theologies of the Religious Life .... 76 Catholic Charismatic Renewal and the Extension of the Theology of Charisms to Lay Movements .... 85 The Ecumenical Potential of the Catholic Theology of Charisms .... 92 Churches and Movements from the Perspective of Charisms .... 96 II.4 CHARISMS, UNITY, DIVERSITY, AND DIVISION Charisms and Gifts in the Divided Church .... 101 Unity and Legitimate Diversity in the Theology of Ecclesial Charisms .... 111 Locating Charismatic-Institutional Unity in Relation to Other Contemporary Visions and Models of Unity .... 114 Charisms and Division .... 128 III. CASE STUDIES: THE PAULIST FATHERS AND THE SALVATION ARMY III.1 THE CHARISM OF THE FOUNDER .... 132 The Charism of Isaac Hecker: Background on Hecker’s Life .... 135 Hecker’s Journey to Catholicism via Transcendentalism .... 140 [ Page ] v Hecker as a Redemptorist .... 143 The Break from the Redemptorists and the Formation of the Paulists .... 147 Hecker’s Charism in Later Life: Did it Change? .... 150 The Charism of William Booth: Background on Booth’s Life .... 152 Booth as a Young Wesleyan Evangelist .... 156 Booth as the Leader of a Mission to the Neglected .... 160 Booth’s Charism in Later Life: Did it Change? .... 163 Conclusion .... 168 III.2 THE FORMATION OF THE MOVEMENT .... 169 The Paulists’ Own Vision of their Charism as a Movement .... 171 The Paulist Charism as Interpreted by Others .... 183 The Salvationists’ Own Vision of their Charism as a Movement .... 186 The Salvationist Charism as Interpreted by Others .... 200 Conclusion .... 205 III.3 ECCLESIOLOGY OF THE MOVEMENT .... 207 Paulist Ecclesiology: The Renewal of the World through the Renewal of the Church .... 209 The Church and Providential History .... 214 A New Phase of the Church: Interior, Intelligible, Active .... 219 Paulists as “Men of the Age” for the Renewal of the Church .... 222 The Salvation Army: A Non-Sectarian Vision of the Church .... 226 The Church as Agent of Universal Redemption .... 230 Salvationist Self-Understanding and Ecclesial Status .... 233 Negotiations with the Church of England and Cessation of Sacramental Observance .... 238 Conclusion .... 248 III.4 ONGOING INTERPRETATION OF THE CHARISM .... 249 The Americanism Controversy as a Misapprehension of the Paulist Charism .... 252 Characteristic Practices and the Decline of Missions .... 260 Vatican II and the Re-Articulation of the Paulist Charism .... 267 The Movement-Church Tension in Salvation Army History: Official Statements of Purpose .... 273 The Salvation Army and the World Council of Churches .... 277 Clericalization and the Ordination of Salvation Army Officers .... 281 Excursus: Non-Sacramentalism as a False Charism? .... 286 Conclusion ....294 IV. ANALYSIS IV.1 REVISITING THE CATEGORIES .... 296 Biblical Theology of Charisms: Pneumatic Fullness, Triumphalism, and Oversight .... 297 Charism and Institution: Separation and Oversight .... 300 [ Page ] vi Charisms and Movements: Hybrids, Providence, and Renewal .... 306 Charism, Unity, Diversity, and Division: Discernment in Division .... 312 IV.2 ECUMENICAL IMPLICATIONS .... 316 Movements in the Church and Charismatic Diversity .... 317 Ecclesial Charisms and Christian Unity .... 323 BIBLIOGRAPHY .... 326 [ Page ] vii CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION It is difficult for us to imagine what a shock must have been given to the tender frame of second-century Christianity by the lapse of Tertullian into Montanism. It was as if Newman had joined the Salvation Army.1 Ronald Knox’s comment comparing Montanism to The Salvation Army2 is amusing (especially for those of us with Salvationist heritage), but also indicative of the ways in which “enthusiastic” Christianity has been viewed by many scholars standing in the established Christian churches: as a country cousin, slightly embarrassing at best, and heretical at worst. The history of the Church bears witness to the perennial presence of conflict between such “movements” and the mainstream tradition, even, at times, for those Catholic movements which received the Church’s official approbation, such as the Franciscans. This essay is, in part, an effort to provide a theological framework through which this conflicted history might be interpreted and understood. “Charism” is a concept drawn originally from Pauline literature, and refers to a gift given by the Spirit to persons in the Church for the upbuilding of the body of Christ.3 Since the mid- twentieth century, Christians from a broad spectrum of theological positions have applied this term, in varying ways, to groups within the Church.4 This project specifies the particular ways in _________________________________ 1 Ronald A. Knox, Enthusiasm: A Chapter in the History of Religion with Special Reference to the XVII and XVIII Centuries (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 1994), 33. 2 Throughout this essay I will follow the Salvationist practice of capitalizing “The” in The Salvation Army. 3 Similar definitions of “charism” can be found in a variety of sources. To cite five representative examples: Leonardo Boff, Church, Charism and Power: Liberation Theology and the Institutional Church (New York: Crossroad, 1985), 156ff; John M. Lozano, Foundresses, Founders and their Religious Families (Chicago: Claret Centre for Resources in Spirituality, 1983), 30-33; Gabriel Murphy, Charisms and Church Renewal (Rome: Catholic Book Agency, 1965), 13-17; Leon Joseph Suenens, A New Pentecost? (New York: Seabury Press, 1975), 32; René Laurentin, Catholic Pentecostalism (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1977), 51. 4The three primary ways in which the idea of “group charisms” has been used are a) Catholic theologies of the religious life, in which various institutes of religious life are said to each possess a particular charism; b) protestant discussions of the place of “renewal movements,” which tend to focus on the need for charismatic movements to enliven the institutional church; c) general discussions of “diversity” in the church, in which separated churches are [ Page ] 1 [ Page ] 2 which we can legitimately speak of “group charisms.” I begin with a constructive theology of ecclesial charisms, and demonstrate the implications of this concept for the question of the limits of legitimate diversity in the church. I then test and develop my position by an application of the theology of ecclesial charisms to two nineteenth century case studies, The Salvation Army and the Paulist Fathers. The specific question I am seeking to answer is, “how is the concept of “ecclesial charisms” helpful for addressing the limits of legitimate diversity in the Church?” In other words, what kind of diversity is supported by a theology of ecclesial charisms? My argument demonstrates that, in order for the idea of ecclesial charisms to be consistent with Pauline theology, ecclesial charisms have to be understood as vocationally- directed. They are gifts that bring an obligation to some specific service on behalf of the larger body of Christ. Strictly speaking, though I will speak of movements which are formed around a particular ecclesial charism, the movements themselves do not “possess” a charism, but exist as a means of grace, which serves to facilitate and cultivate the particular charism around which the movements are formed. The structures, traditions, and spirituality of the movement serve to further the exercise of their particular charism. The charisms themselves are given to persons, and those persons may be called to become part of a particular movement in order to fulfil their vocation through the exercise of their charism on behalf of the larger body of Christ. All of this leads to my central thesis, that a theology of ecclesial charisms can account for legitimately diverse, specialized vocational movements in the Church, but it cannot account for a legitimate diversity of separated churches. In other words, a claim to an ecclesial charism cannot be used as a justification for continued separation among ecclesial bodies, because charisms are, in part, constituted by their unity-building character. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________ said to have a particular charism which enriches the whole. My work will call type c) into question, and bring critical focus to the proper use of types a) and b). [ Page ] 3 In making this claim, I am situating the question of ecclesial charisms within the debate regarding the limits of legitimate diversity in the Church. The project focuses specifically on the question of structural diversity (distinct ecclesial bodies), and touches on issues of diversity in matters of doctrine, morality, liturgy, and spirituality only insofar as they intersect with the question at hand. In other words, what kind of diverse bodies (denominations? renewal movements? confessions? religious orders?) can be embraced as legitimate within the one Church? I argue from an ecclesiological position which takes visible, historic unity as its norm, along the lines of the definition given by the 1961World Council of Churches Assembly at New Delhi. Unity, therefore, includes common faith, preaching, sacraments, prayer, corporate life, and witness, expressed locally in a fully committed fellowship, but also universally, in terms of shared ministry and membership.5 A break in any of these aspects of unity constitutes “separation,” and separation implies the inhibition of a movement’s particular charism, as well as the impoverishment of the Church as a whole. The specific extent of this inhibition and impoverishment is one of the pressing questions which this project takes up, particularly in relation to the case studies. Though I begin with visible unity as a presupposition, I will also argue that adopting the language of charisms in discussing various ecclesial bodies leads inevitably to a vision of unity that is visible and historically continuous.6 Though I define the unity of the Church in catholic and organic terms, I maintain that a “separation” as outlined above does not necessarily lead to a de-churching of the movement in question. This assertion is grounded an understanding of the Church that builds upon some suggestions made by George Lindbeck. Lindbeck argues that we should conceive of the church __________________________________________ 5 W. A. Visser’t Hooft, ed., New Delhi Speaks about Christian Witness, Service, Unity: A Report from the World Council of Churches Third Assembly. (New York: Association Press, 1962), 92-93. 6 While I will be focused specifically on the category of “charisms,” rather than on establishing the validity of the New Delhi vision of Christian unity, I will show that the biblical theology of charisms pushes one towards an ideal of unity that is catholic and organic. [ Page ] 4 primarily as the concrete, historical, visible people of God, identified by objective marks of God’s election (scripture, sacraments, confession of Christ, etc.).7 Rather than a set of “minimum requirements,” a group which possesses any of these objective marks is considered part of the Church, though a given ecclesial community’s embodiment of the Church’s calling and election might not be uniformly faithful.8 In continuity with Israel, the church bears the marks of her election as either a blessing or a curse, witnessing to God in both her faithfulness and her unfaithfulness, as God’s mercy and judgment are displayed in the Church’s historical life.9 With regard to the question of ecclesial charisms, this perspective provides a means by which to affirm the specific ways in which movements are faithful (their particular charism) without turning this affirmation into a triumphalistic celebration of all aspects of the movement’s history (because the affirmation of a charism does not imply that they are uniformly faithful). From this perspective, we can see the emergence of charismatic movements in the Church’s history as a witness to both God’s mercy and God’s judgment. The charisms may emerge in response to a particular lack in the established church, but they also bring extravagances, tensions, and strife. Separation necessarily brings judgment, which will be borne out in the history of both movement and Church (the above mentioned inhibition and impoverishment), but it does not mean that the charismatic movement ceases to be part of the Church. With these presuppositions identified, I can clarify the meaning of some key ecclesiological terminology as I will be using it in this essay. “Church” when capitalized refers _________________________________ 7 George A. Lindbeck, “The Church,” in The Church in a Postliberal Age, ed. James Joseph Buckley (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003). 145-165. 8 I was intrigued by Lindbeck’s suggestion that even a Quaker’s confession of Christ can be a mark of ecclesiality. Ibid., 157. This perspective obviously has implications for The Salvation Army, given that Salvationists do not practice the sacraments. Thus reactionary movements in the Church may call to attention a particular aspect of the Church’s calling, but be sectarian and thus unfaithful to a scriptural vision of the Church in many other ways. Ibid., 154. Such groups can be included within the boundaries of the Church without reducing the question of ecclesiality to the lowest common denominator. 9 Lindbeck, “The Church,” 155-157. [ Page ] 5 to the universal body of Christ, which, as I have noted, is a visible and historical body of persons, known by objective marks of Christian faith: confession of faith in Christ, baptism, observance of the Lord’s Supper, regard for the authority of Christian scripture, and so on. I will use “church” in the lower case to refer to an identifiable body of Christians within the Church, whose common life is shaped by a plurality of personal charisms, and ordered by some form of historically continuous ministry of Word and sacrament. This would include those Christian bodies colloquially referred to as “denominations.” “Ecclesial movements,” for my purposes, are identifiable bodies within the Church that are formed for the pursuit of a particular purpose or agenda, and do not identify themselves as churches or as the Church itself. I specifically employ the term “ecclesial bodies” to speak of identifiable groups within the Church, without being specific about their particular form of self-identification, or the ecclesiological evaluations which other churches may make of the communities in question. Ecclesial bodies could be separated churches, religious orders, renewal movements, world communions, and so on. Thus I am employing this term as a descriptive umbrella concept for various types of “groups” within the Church, without implying any kind of judgment about the status of such bodies. However, the distinction between “churches” and “ecclesial movements” within this broad category is central to my argument, as will become clear in chapter II.3. In grounding the existence of ecclesial movements in the Spirit’s charismatic activity, I am granting significance to charismatic movements as an aspect of the Spirit’s guidance of the Church in history. However, much of my argument will be an attempt to set limits to such claims concerning the Spirit’s work, and these will have broad ecumenical applicability. One of my central concerns in taking on this project is to guard against the use of the theology of ecclesial charisms as a triumphalistic justification of the present state of the divided Church. [ Page ] 6 Among divided communities, claims to the Spirit’s work have often been used as a way of providing pneumatic sanction for a given movement’s history, including (if applicable) its separation from other ecclesial bodies. The theology of ecclesial charisms outlined in this thesis will not allow for this kind of charismatic justification of division. Rather, a movement which is autonomous from the rest of the Church, yet claims to guard a particular ecclesial charism, must continue to acknowledge the sin of division and work to overcome its isolation, if the movement’s charism is to serve its proper purpose. This allows for the movement to continue to lay claim to “divine origin,” in a sense, and to identify a “special gift” and “calling,” without using the charism as a way of justifying all aspects of its history, especially those which resulted in division.10 I will not be summarizing the “state of the question” at this point, because the question as it is thus formulated has not received sustained attention, though it is common in ecumenical circles to speak of the different churches as possessing a variety of gifts. 11 In this essay I will be bringing together literature from a variety of sources, including biblical theology, ecclesiology, theologies of renewal, and ecumenical theology, not to mention the historical literature on The ___________________________________ 10 Again, Lindbeck’s concept of non-uniform faithfulness will be useful as a way of interpreting various movements as being particularly faithful in one aspect of Christian witness, without devolving into all-or-nothing debates regarding the ecclesiality of such movements. 11 See, as a paradigmatic example, Margaret O’Gara, The Ecumenical Gift Exchange (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1998). I will not argue that separated churches do not have “gifts” to share with one another. However, use of the term “charism” evokes, at least implicitly (and sometimes explicitly), the Pauline analogy of the body and its parts, thereby implying a divinely ordained diversity-in-unity which ought to be celebrated and preserved. I will argue that the “gifts” which separated churches bring to the whole Church are not necessarily charisms in this particular Pauline sense. The Baptist tradition, for example, did not begin as a movement within the Church which understood itself to be following a particular vocation. Rather, the early Baptists believed they were the Church and others were not. Baptists have developed “gifts” in their subsequent history that could benefit the Church as a whole, but this is not the same as the charism of a specialized vocational movement. The “gifts” of the Baptist tradition should not be used as a justification for their continued separation. The “charism” at the heart of a specialized vocational movement is the very thing which justifies the movement’s existence, but the charism, properly understood, also implies that the movement should exist as an autonomous body separate from the Church (or as an independent church). Therefore, to say that the movement’s charism “justifies” its existence is not to say that the charism justifies its separation. In chapter II.4 I will address this distinction between ecumenical “gifts” in a general sense and ecclesial charisms in the sense that I use the term in my argument, with reference to reports from international ecumenical dialogues. [ Page ] 7 Salvation Army and the Paulists, which will be taken up in part III. While this somewhat eclectic mix of literature will be integrated into a sustained argument concerning ecclesial charisms, it does not fall neatly into a standard scholarly discussion, as might be the case, for example, with a dissertation engaging any one of the fields of literature mentioned above. Rather, I am pressing these various bodies of literature into a critical and focused investigation of the concept of ecclesial charisms as relevant to the question of structural diversity in the church. In a general sense, as noted above, this project is situated within the question of the limits of legitimate diversity in the Church, and specifically, the enduring place of separated ecclesial bodies within the larger Church. However, I do not continuously engage the literature on that specific question throughout the essay, but rather examine the particular way in which a theology of ecclesial charisms can contribute to this broader discussion of unity and diversity. The question which forms the background for my examination of ecclesial charisms concerns the status of enduring confessional or denominational boundaries: are they a gift to be treasured, or a stumbling block to be overcome? As I will demonstrate in chapter II.4, particular ecclesial identities were viewed as problematic early in the ecumenical movement, but a move towards affirming diversity beginning in the late 1960s pushed back against this position. In 1984, fears of the possible effects of a “merger” caused Oscar Cullman to publish his book Unity Through Diversity, in which he argued that each confession has its own particular charism, which must be preserved through the continued autonomy of the confessions.12 Cullmann’s book provided my initial inspiration for this project, and in a sense it has provided a kind of “foil” for my argument as I have constructed it. I will argue that a theology of ecclesial charisms cannot properly be used to support the continued separation of ecclesial bodies, but can be used __________________________________ 12 Oscar Cullmann, Unity Through Diversity: Its Foundation, and a Contribution to the Discussion Concerning the Possibilities of Its Actualization (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1986). [ Page ] 8 to support the presence of specialized vocational movements within the Church. In other words, the type of diversity envisioned and supported by a theology of ecclesial charisms is vocational diversity. “Charism” ought not to be used as a cipher for “diversity-in-general,” lest significant conflicts and disagreements between divided ecclesial bodies be simplistically construed as complementary gifts of the Spirit. METHOD AND PROCEDURE My method in this project is rooted in the above-mentioned definition of the Church as the visible, historical people of God. With the Church thus defined, ecclesiology is a discipline which must engage the Church's concrete historical life. The doctrine of the Church must address and elucidate this visible, historical people, and not project an “ideal” Church existing behind or above history. And if the Church is this historical body of people, then the history of the Church and the history of seemingly obscure movements within the Church has something to tell us about God and his actions in history through his chosen witnesses. In this essay I propose a theology of ecclesial charisms as a way of interpreting the conflicted history of movements in the Church, and this charism-based interpretation will involve both systematic theological reflection and historical description. Therefore I will begin with constructive work on the theology of ecclesial charisms, and the case study section of my project will take the form of critical reflection on the concrete life of two movements, the Paulist Fathers and The Salvation Army, interpreted through the lens of my constructive proposal. In part II, I begin by investigating the scriptural roots of the concept of charisms, paying particular attention to the way that the Pauline literature has been used in recent theological work on this topic (Chapter II.1). Through a reading of the Pauline literature in conversation with post-Vatican II ecumenical literature, I demonstrate that Paul applies the term to persons, not to [ Page ] 9 churches (though these gifts cannot be properly discerned or exercised by isolated individuals). The interdependent charisms are freely given by the Spirit for the building up of the body through service. Thus, they always carry a vocational obligation. The theology of ecclesial charisms must remain consistent with this scriptural foundation, though it will go beyond strict adherence to the biblical concept. This is facilitated in part by a consideration of how the theology of charisms can be interpreted within the story of the people of God as it is found in the broader scope of the scriptural canon, drawing on Lindbeck’s “messianic pilgrim people of God” framework. This means relating Paul’s teaching on charisms to the significance of the sending of the Spirit at Pentecost, interpreted through canonical shape of Pentecost as a first fruits festival. First fruits offerings have a provisional character, anticipating a further harvest which is to come, and thus charisms as pneumatic gifts also have a provisional character, which guards against any person or group laying claim to a charism in a triumphalistic manner. First-fruits are also sacrificial offerings, which point toward the figure of Christ, and therefore ought to be exercised in a self-denying manner, in accordance with the Spirit’s ongoing work of conforming human persons to Christ. The question of the relation between charism and institution is of central importance to my argument, and is taken up in Chapter II.2. I propose a five-fold typology of perspectives on this question, with reference to significant work by Adolf von Harnack, Leonardo Boff, Karl Rahner, Joseph Ratzinger, and Oscar Cullmann. My own position emphasizes the interdependence of institution and charism in the Church, preserving the distinction between the two without construing them as opposites or strictly separated phenomena. There can be no strict separation between institution and charism, as all ecclesial institutions are charismatic, and all ecclesial charisms are cultivated and preserved by institutional means of grace. Therefore, [ Page ] 10 there are no “mere” institutions in the Church, nor are there “pure” charisms existing independently of ecclesial institutions. The tensions that exist between movements and established churches, therefore, are not explained on the basis of a conflict-in-principle between “charism” and “institution.” Rather these tensions arise out of conflict between different types of ecclesial institutions, both of which are charismatic. The specific relation between “movement,” “church,” and “charism” is addressed in Chapter II.3, where I argue that ecclesial charisms are properly embodied in specialized vocational movements, rather than separated churches. At this point, drawing on post-Vatican II Catholic literature on the religious life, I define specialized vocational movements as ecclesial bodies which are formed to cultivate and facilitate a particular charism in the Church, that is, a particular function or service for the upbuilding of the Church. I then argue that the Catholic theology of charisms could be applied ecumenically, with particular reference to Protestant theologies of renewal that affirm the importance of specialized movements in the Church. Such movements should not function as “churches,” nor should they see themselves as churches. Rather, they should exercise a particular ministry in a way which is integrated into the life of the Church at large. These can be contrasted with local churches, which I define as characterized by a plurality of charismata and historically continuous forms of ministry, including ministries of Word and sacrament.13 Recognizing that, in the concrete historical life of the church, this normative distinction between “church” and “movement” is often blurred, I propose a fourfold typology of ecclesial bodies, including two hybrid forms: churches, movements, separated movements, and movement-churches. ____________________________________________ 13 The extent of historical continuity may vary greatly in different cases, but even second generation Pentecostal churches have embraced historical continuity in their own way. In any case, my argument will not dwell on these criteria, but will be focused instead on the differences between movements and churches from the perspective of charisms, with movements being formed around a particular charism, and churches characterized by a plurality of charisms. [ Page ] 11 In light of what has been said thus far, I articulate the implications of this theology of ecclesial charisms for Christian unity, diversity, and division (Chapter II.4). The theology of ecclesial charisms supports visible, historic, and organic unity as the norm for the Church’s life. Within this unity, a diversity of specialized vocational movements can be viewed as a legitimate expression of the Spirit’s gifts to the Church, but these specialized movements ought not to exist as autonomous “churches.” In short, the theology of ecclesial charisms does not support the idea of diverse “churches” maintaining their autonomy for the purpose of protecting their charism. Indeed, if separation does occur, the exercise of the charism will be hampered, as the specialized movement begins to take on the many and various vocations and ministries of a “church.” This hampering is a manifestation of God’s judgment and mercy, which ought to evoke repentance. Likewise, if a movement does not separate but its charism is not recognized, the movement will suffer for taking on vocational tasks which lie outside its charismatic founding. This constructive theology of charisms then becomes the basis upon which the primary and secondary literature on The Salvation Army and the Paulist Fathers is interpreted. Since charisms are given to persons, an examination of a movement’s charism must begin with the charism of the founder. Thus, in Chapter III.1 I examine the particular gifting and vocation of William Booth and Isaac Hecker. I include biographical background material here, as it is relevant to the question of the charism of each founder. Booth’s charism is identified as the gift of evangelism among the neglected. Hecker’s charism is also evangelism, with a particular focus on the people of America. I also examine the conflicts that arose for both men as they sought to exercise their particular charism among the Methodist New Connexion and the Redemptorists, respectively. In Chapter III.2 I examine how, in each case, the founder organized the movement [ Page ] 12 around what he believed to be the movement’s particular calling. I review foundational documents (constitutions, rules, regulations) which were intended to shape each movement, and discuss the early institutionalization of each movement. Both movements were characterized by a degree of ambiguity regarding their charism, and both faced questions concerning the modification of their charism within the first three decades. For the Paulists, the ambiguity was caused in part by the prevailing anti-American culture in the Catholic hierarchy, which forced them to downplay the specifically American aspects of their charism. They were also forced to compromise on Hecker’s vision for the Paulists as a strictly missionary community, as they agreed to take on parish duties in order to receive episcopal approbation. This meant that the Paulists were, from an early stage, forced to divert some of their meagre resources to parish ministry, undercutting their evangelistic focus. Hecker then raised the question of a change of charism when he attempted to convince the Paulist community that they should expand into Europe in the mid-1870s. In the case of The Salvation Army, the ambiguity was caused by the Army’s autonomy from all other ecclesial institutions. This meant that, while Salvationists expressly claimed that they were not a church, they began to morph into a movement-church from a very early stage. I then discuss the potential change in the Salvationist charism in relation to William Booth’s “Darkest England” scheme and The Salvation Army’s subsequent expansion of its social work. In the next chapter (III.3) I examine the ecclesiological assumptions of each movement, and the degree to which a theology of charisms might have helped to clarify the place of the respective movements in the Church. I discuss Hecker’s hopes for a Roman Catholic Church that was more “interior” and yet more intelligible to the people of his age and more active in the world. The Paulists were thus envisioned to be men of the church for the needs of the age. [ Page ] 13 While Hecker’s convictions concerning the direct work of the Spirit in the lives of people caused some of his critics to brand him a crypto-Protestant, he strongly affirmed that the Spirit worked unfailingly through the church’s external authority as well. The Paulists understood their movement’s relation to the Church in a way that accords quite well with the theology of charisms I propose - as a specialized movement, but one under the authority and direction of overseers. The theology of charisms might have made a significant difference for the Paulists, however, if it had been embraced in relation to the charism of oversight - both by the Paulists themselves, and by the Catholic hierarchy of their time. Conceiving of oversight as a charism among other charisms might have mitigated the triumphalistic tendencies of nineteenth century Catholic views of ecclesial authority, and allowed for a greater appreciation of their particular vocation to evangelism in America. Salvationist ecclesiology, on the other hand, has been marked by a profound ambiguity from the beginning, again resulting from the movement’s status as an autonomous ecclesial body. Booth claimed that his people were part of the Church, but that they were not “a church” or a sect, even though his members found their spiritual home and nurture exclusively in The Salvation Army. Furthermore, Booth sometimes also claimed equality for the Army and its officers in relation to other churches, undermining his argument that he was not creating another denomination. The Salvation Army’s negotiations with the Church of England in 1882-83 and its decision to abandon sacramental observance both serve as illustrations of this ambiguity. The theology of ecclesial charisms, of course, would suggest that Booth ought to have sought integration of his movement within an established church, so that the movement could truly have remained focused on the charism of evangelism among the neglected. In the final chapter of Section III I examine the ways each movement has interpreted its [ Page ] 14 particular mission through their respective historical evolutions. I begin by examining the Americanist controversy as the first trial of the Paulist community after Isaac Hecker’s death. The controversy, while not officially a censure of the Paulists, nevertheless left the community under a cloud of suspicion for decades. I also discuss changes in the characteristic activities of the Paulists, with particular attention to the internal ferment caused by the decline of “missions.” This ferment paved the way for a significant re-interpretation of the Paulist charism in the wake of Vatican II. The most significant change in this re-interpretation is the introduction of ecumenism into the Paulist charism - a move which resolves the earlier problematic interpretation of the Paulist charism as a mandate to “convert” Protestants. The ongoing interpretation of the Salvationist charism focuses on the tension created by the status of the Army as a movement-church. I chart the gradual trend of the movement towards a more “churchly” identity, culminating in official self-identification as “a church” in the 1970s. This means that the Salvationists’ focus on their specific charism of evangelism among the neglected became more and more diffuse as the movement increasingly took on the various tasks of a church. Finally, in light of my reading of the two case studies, I draw out the theological lessons learned from the concrete history of these two particular movements in part IV. Revisiting each of the four areas of Section II, I draw out the implications that the history of these two movements has for the theology of ecclesial charisms, with particular attention to the effects of separation and misapprehension upon the exercise of a charism. The final chapter spells out the ecumenical implications of my argument, both for our understanding of the place of movements in the church, and for the nature of Christian unity. [ Page ] 15 CHAPTER II.1 A BIBLICAL THEOLOGY OF CHARISMS A complete discussion of the biblical theology of charisms would require a full-length project in its own right.1 I will be cutting a cross-section through the larger topic by focusing on the specific issue of the possibility of group charisms. Can the biblical concept of charisms be applied to ecclesial bodies, and if so, in what way? I will argue that scripture allows for us to speak of a legitimate diversity of charismatically-identified groups within churches and across churches, but not as particular churches. That is, as will be borne out in later chapters, the theology of ecclesial charisms cannot be used to explain or justify the persistent existence of separated churches. I will begin by reviewing the Pauline teaching on charisms, then place Paul’s teaching into a broader canonical context, by reflecting on the character of the Spirit’s work according to in the biblical narrative. This will be done via a discussion of the significance of Pentecost, and the continuities and discontinuities between the Spirit’s work in Israel and the Church. My interpretation of the scriptural data will be shaped by George Lindbeck’s reading of the Church as the messianic people of God, typologically shaped by Israel’s story. In this view, the Church is seen, not as the fulfillment of Israel’s promise, but as those included in the one people of God through Christ - a people who find the fulfillment of God’s promises in Christ alone. Picking up on the theme of “first fruits,” I will be guarding against triumphalistic claims to pneumatic “fullness” in the Church, first, by highlighting the anticipatory or provisional nature of charisms as first fruits, and secondly, by highlighting the sacrificial nature of the offerings of first fruits, which are a type of the cross. The Spirit’s concrete presence in the life of the Church, then, is not a guarantee of ecclesial faithfulness, but rather an assurance that the Church will, like ____________________________________ 1 See the recent example from Paul Kariuki Njiru, Charisms and the Holy Spirit’s Activity in the Body of Christ: An Exegetical-Theological Study of 1 Corinthians 12:4-11 and Romans 12:6-8. (Roma: Pontificia Universit Gregoriana, 2002). [ Page ] 16 Israel, witness to the judgment and mercy of God in her faithfulness and unfaithfulness - a point that will be taken up at a later point with reference to the conflicted history of movements in the Church. Finally, I will look at scriptural examples of “group charisms,” and address the question of how it might be possible to speak of group charisms in a scripturally coherent way. THE PAULINE THEOLOGY OF CHARISMS It is entirely fitting for the theology of charisms to focus on an investigation of Pauline theology, because there is good historical evidence to support the claim that the Greek term charisma originated with the apostle Paul.2 The term is derived from charis, meaning grace, with the suffix -ma indicating the result of the act of charis - in other words, “the concrete result of bestowal” of grace.3 Charisma is not a major New Testament word, occurring only 17 times in the entire canon, with all but one of these occurrences coming (1 Pet 4:10) in Pauline literature. Not all of these occurrences fit with contemporary understandings of the words “charisma” or “charismatic,” so it is worth reviewing the breadth of the term’s meaning in the New Testament. First, at times Paul uses charisma as a general term to describe any particular _____________________________________ 2 Ernst Käsemann insists that we have “the maximum degree of historical certainty” that Paul introduced the concept, in “Ministry and Community in the New Testament,” in Essays on New Testament Themes (London: SCM Press, 1960), 64. For a review of the evidence, see also James D. G. Dunn, Jesus and the Spirit: A Study of the Religious and Charismatic Experience of Jesus and the First Christians as Reflected in the New Testament (London: SCM Press, 1975), 205-206; B. N. Wambacq, “Le mot « charisme »,” Nouvelle revue théologique 97 (1975): 345- 347; Murphy, Charisms and Church Renewal, 40; René Laurentin, “Charisms: Terminological Precision,” in Charisms in the Church, ed. Christian Duquoc and Casiano Floristan, Concilium 109 (New York: Seabury Press, 1978), 4-5; Njiru, Charisms and the Holy Spirit’s Activity in the Body of Christ, 75-77; Arthur Carl Piepkorn, “Charisma in the New Testament and the Apostolic Fathers,” Concordia Theological Monthly 42, no. 6 (1971): 370; Enrique Nardoni, “The Concept of Charism in Paul,” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 55 (1993): 69. Käsemann and others following have suggested that Paul’s coining of a new term is indicative of his desire to emphasize the radical novelty of the mode of the Spirit’s manifestation in the people of God. So Käsemann maintains that the new term “heralds the emergence of a critical posture over against other early Christian views about the relation between the ministerial office and the community, a posture which could only express itself by means of a new terminology.” In “Ministry and Community in the New Testament,” 64. Also, Hans K ng, The Church (London: Burns and Oates, 1992), 245. Alternatively, although it is speculative proposal, Nardoni has suggested that Paul “probably took it from colloquial language, where the term must have been used with the meaning of “gift” or “present.”” Nardoni, “The Concept of Charism in Paul,” 69. 3 Njiru, Charisms and the Holy Spirit’s Activity in the Body of Christ, 76; Francis A. Sullivan, Charisms and Charismatic Renewal: A Biblical and Theological Study (Ann Arbor: Servant Books, 1982), 17. [ Page ] 17 bestowal of grace upon God’s people. So, for example, In 2 Cor. 1:11, Paul says that “many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessings (charisma) granted us through the prayers of many.”4 Secondly, Paul uses charisma three times in Romans to speak of the gift of salvation, while using the term dorea in a synonymous way (Romans 5:15-16; 6:23).5 Thirdly, there is the special case of Romans 11:29, in which Paul says of Israel, “the gifts (charismata) and calling of God are irrevocable.” This is most likely a reference to all of God’s gifts to Israel as implied in her election as the people of God.6 Aside from these broader uses of the term charisma we come to the one which is most ________________________________________ 4 Charism in this verse is variously translated as “blessing” (NRSV and ESV), “gift” (KJV), “gracious favour” (NIV) or “favour” (NASB). The context suggests some benefit that Paul and his companions received in the midst of their difficult circumstances. For example, Piepkorn suggests that the specific charism in question is deliverance from peril. “Charisma in the New Testament and the Apostolic Fathers,” 371. The specific blessing in question is not important to my point, which is simply that Paul’s use in this context is clearly different from the idea of diverse vocational gifts, to be discussed below. Charism in this verse is variously translated as “blessing” (NRSV and ESV), “gift” (KJV), “gracious favour” (NIV) or “favour” (NASB). Another possible use of charism as “blessing” occurs in Romans 1:11, where Paul tells the Christians in Rome that he longs to be with them that he might share “some spiritual gift” (charisma pneumatikon) with them. While some have suggested that Paul speaks here of “spiritual gifts” in the sense of 1 Cor. 12, the context suggests rather that he means that he wishes to impart some blessing to the Christians in Rome, through his ministry there. This verse will also be discussed below as a possible reference to a “group charism.” It is, of course, possible that both meanings are implied, that is, that Paul will share a “spiritual gift” as understood in 1 Cor. 12-14, and that this will prove a blessing to the Christians in Rome. However, it seems more likely that Paul intends here to speak in a more general sense of a blessing to be shared with the Romans. This is the suggestion of Wambacq, who interprets the text as a reference to Paul’s teaching ministry, in “Le mot « charisme »” 352. The same interpretation is taken by Arnold Bittlinger, Gifts and Graces: A Commentary on 1 Corinthians 12-14, trans by. Herbert Klassen (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1967), 63; Nardoni, “The Concept of Charism in Paul,” 70. Dulles, however identifies this passage as one which “cannot be translated by the English word “charism.”” See “The Charism of the New Evangelizer,” in Retrieving Charisms for the Twenty-First Century, ed. Doris Donnelly (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1999), 34. Others who support this reading of Romans 1:11 are Laurentin, “Charisms: Terminological Precision,” 5; Soeur Jeanne d’ Arc, “Panorama des charismes: Essai d’une perspective d’ensemble,” Vie Spirituelle 609 (August 1975): 504; Murphy, Charisms and Church Renewal 40 5 Romans 5:15-16: “But the free gift (charisma) is not like the trespass. For if the many died through the one man’s trespass, much more surely have the grace of God and the free gift (dorea) in the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, abounded for the many. And the free gift (dorea) is not like the effect of the one man’s sin. For the judgement following one trespass brought condemnation, but the free gift (charisma) following many trespasses brings justification.” The third occurrence is in Romans 6:23. 6 This is based on Paul’s list of Israel’s privileges as God’s elect people in Romans 9:4-5. See Wambacq, “Le mot « charisme »,” 353; Piepkorn, “Charisma in the New Testament and the Apostolic Fathers,” 372; Douglas J. Moo, The Epistle to the Romans, New International Critical Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996), 732. As will be discussed below, this verse could indeed be said to refer to some “group charisms,” but the charisms identified are not diverse charisms which denote different groups within the people of God, but rather a set of charisms that the people of God as a whole receive on account of their election. They are gifts which differentiate Israel from the nations, but they do not mark off diverse groups within the people of God. [ Page ] 18 commonly associated with the English transliteration “charism,” that of diverse gifts given to persons in the Church. At eleven occurrences, this is the most common use of charisma in the New Testament.7 Of these eleven, five occurrences are in 1 Cor. 12, thus it is no wonder that this particular chapter is seen as the heart of Paul’s teaching on charisms. It is this particular sense of charismata as diverse gifts given to persons in the Church that is of special interest for the question of “ecclesial charisms,” because it is precisely on the basis of this particular use of the concept of charism, extrapolated to the level of “groups,” that arguments for a legitimate diversity of ecclesial bodies are made.8 Therefore, I will proceed by offering a more detailed discussion of the meaning of charisms as diverse gifts given to persons in the Church, keeping in mind that the broader uses of the term guard against an overly technical “definition” of charism on the basis of the scriptural data.9 First of all, charisma in this usage is a particular case of the more general use of the term, and therefore the diverse charismata are free gifts of grace. Paul describes the charismata as differing “according to the grace given to us” (Romans 12:6). As was noted above, the gifts are distributed to each by the one Spirit, “who allots to each one individually just as the Spirit ____________________________________ 7 Romans 12:6; 1 Corinthians 1:7, 7:7, 12:4, 12:9, 12:28, 12:30, 12:31; 1 Timothy 4:14; 2 Timothy 1:6; 1 Peter 4:10. 8 Chief examples of this particular line of argument (though with varied emphases and implications) are: Cullmann, Unity Through Diversity; Dulles, “The Charism of the New Evangelizer”; Lozano, Foundresses, Founders and their Religious Families; Murphy, Charisms and Church Renewal; Karl Rahner, The Dynamic Element in the Church, trans by. W. J. O’Hara (Freiburg: Herder, 1964); Sullivan, Charisms and Charismatic Renewal. 9For an overview of the debate regarding the status of charism as a “technical” Pauline term, and a case against a technical definition, see Nardoni, “The Concept of Charism in Paul,” 68-74. In short, it can be said that, while Paul seems to prefer charisma as a term for diverse gifts given to believers, it should not be taken as a highly technical term in its original usage. For example, in 1 Corinthians 12:1 and 14:1 the term pneumatikon is used as a synonym for charisma, and normally translated “spiritual gift.” The NRSV, NASB, NIV, ESV, and KJV all have “spiritual gifts” for pneumatikon at 1 Cor. 12:1 and 14:1. Ephesians 4:7, which parallels in Romans 12 and 1 Corinthians 12 in its list of diverse “gifts,” employs the term dorea, as does Ephesians 3:7, in which Paul speaks of his conversion and particular apostolic commissioning as a particular gift. It would be problematic to completely leave out the above-mentioned “broader” uses of charisma in attempting a definition of charisms as diverse gifts given to persons in the Church. However, focusing on the third type as that which corresponds to the contemporary use is an approach taken by others, and is common in theological treatments of the topic. See, for example, Teresa Ledóchowska, A la recherche du charisme de l’institut des Ursulines de l’Union Romaine (Rome: Ursulines des l’Union Romaine, 1976), 9; and Sullivan, Charisms and Charismatic Renewal, 18. [ Page ] 19 chooses” (1 Cor. 12:11). Charisms are, as was already noted, concrete manifestations of divine grace, and therefore, from a Christian perspective, they are inextricably bound to the cross of Jesus Christ. In other words, the breadth of applications of the term beyond the specific “spiritual gifts” of 1 Corinthians, and the use of charisma as a term for salvation itself, both point to a deeper theological insight regarding the relationship between charis and charisma: for the Christian, everything is acknowledged to be a gift from God (1 Cor. 4:7), and therefore the specific charismata which we will be discussing should not be understood as discreet phenomena which can be discussed in isolation from the greater reality of salvation offered through Christ. Rather, charisms must be understood as varied concrete manifestations of the gift of salvation in the life of the Church, wrought by the Spirit, whose office it is to testify to the Son (John 15:26).10 Secondly, while the charismata cannot be identified with “natural abilities,” they are not limited to extraordinary or spectacular manifestations of the Spirit.11 The question of distinguishing between natural abilities and charismata is a particularly significant problem for those who hold oppositional views of nature and grace, and is compounded by the fact that Paul spends a great deal of time in 1 Corinthians 12-14 discussing “spectacular” gifts. 12 But even ______________________________________ 10 I’ve taken this claim that charisms are various manifestations of the reality of salvation from Leon Joseph Suenens’ well known work on the Spirit: “The charisms which mark in this way the life of the early Church, like buds in springtime, are essentially the varied and visible manifestations of a single unique reality: the life of the Spirit overflowing the life of the souls of Christians.” A New Pentecost?, 36. Hans Küng makes the same point, with a more explicitly christological focus: “But charism as a “gift of grace” must never be seen as something autonomous, as distinct from the giver.. .They all point to the one great charism of God, the new life which has been given to us in Christ Jesus.” K ng, The Church, 247. 11 1 Corinthians 7:7 refers to celibacy and marriage as enabled by particular charismata, while Romans 12:6-8 lists teaching, service, giving, leading, and compassion as various charismata alongside prophecy. Ephesians 4:11 lists evangelists, pastors, and teachers as gifts given by the ascended Son to the Church. Finally,1 Timothy 4:14 and 1 Timothy 1:6 both refer to a charisma which has been passed on to Timothy through the laying on of hands, signifying an early form of “office” in the primitive church. This means, at the outset, we should resist the commo assumption, inherited from popular contemporary understandings of personal “charisma,” of opposing official and charismatic authority. This issue will be taken up in chapter II.2. 12 The precise relationship between natural endowments and the charismata is a matter of much debate, with the fault lines in the debate often aligning closely with presuppositions regarding the relation between nature and grace. [ Page ] 20 while he does this, Paul’s point is not to contrast the spectacular with the seemingly “natural,” but to underscore the gift-character of all things, of which the diverse charismata are a particular instance.13 It is by being “in Christ,” by a work of the Spirit which must come “from without,” _________________________________________________________________________________________________________ As representative voices on this question, we could compare the views of Dunn, Murphy, and Käsemann. Dunn, taking a typically protestant oppositional view of the relation between nature and grace, is adamant that the charismata are of a completely different order from natural abilities, and is at pains to draw a clear demarcation between the two: “charisma is not be confused with human talent and natural ability; nowhere does charisma have the sense of a human capacity heightened, developed or transformed...Charisma is always God acting, always the Spirit manifesting himself.” Dunn, Jesus and the Spirit, 255. In making his point, Dunn references Kierkegaard’s “infinite qualitative distinction” as support for his claim, before allowing that natural abilities may “chime in” with charisma. Ibid. Dunn further underscores his point by insisting that charisma has an “event” character: “charisma is always an event, the gracious activity (energema) of God through a man. It is the actual miracle, the healing itself, the particular experience of faith; it is the actual revelation as man experiences it, the very words of wisdom, prophecy, prayer, etc., themselves, the particular act of service as it is performed.” Ibid., 254. Gabriel Murphy, articulating a traditional Catholic interpretation of charisms in the wake of Vatican II, draws upon a more complementary understanding of the relation between nature and grace in describing the Pauline concept of charisms, noting that at times it is difficult even to discern the difference between natural ability and charism: “...in spite of the fact that it can be stated a priori that all the charisms are spiritual gifts, it is not always possible in practice to discern or recognize this character in a particular charism...A successful preacher of the Word of God may only seem to be using abilities of his natural personality.” Murphy, Charisms and Church Renewal, 51. Murphy explicitly locates the answer to this dilemma in “modern theological concepts,” according to which “the supernatural is built upon the natural - it is an elevation of the being or actions of a natural man. Thus it is possible for the special gift of the charism to be grafted on a natural aptitude already possessed by the individual, elevating the action of this natural ability so that that the resulting act will be supernatural.” Ibid., 51-52. Käsemann brings a rather different approach to the question, in which “the charismatic” can embrace any aspect of human life, including natural abilities, not through a divine elevation, but through human recognition of the lordship of Christ: “My previous condition of life becomes charisma only when I recognize that the Lord has given it to me and that I am to accept his gift as his calling and command to me. Now everything can become for me charisma.” Käsemann, “Ministry and Community in the New Testament,” 72. My own position is closest to the Catholic line of thought on this question. See below and n. 14. 13 A primary theme of 1 Corinthians is the emergence of divisions (1:10), and it is this problem, rather than the problem of “nature” versus “supernature” that occupies Paul in his argument here. The rhetoric of “gifts” is invoked in the first part of the letter as a warning against prideful boasting in particular leaders. The Corinthians are to be those who “boast in the Lord” (1:31), who has given them life through Jesus Christ (1:30), and the gift of the Spirit, “so that we may understand the gifts bestowed on us by God” (2:12). It is true that Paul identifies those who reject the gospel as psychikos, a term sometimes translated “natural,” and that the psychikos are identified as those who “do not receive the gifts of God’s Spirit” (2:14). Older and more literal translations tend to use the term “natural,” (i.e., “natural man” (KJV, NASB), “natural person” (ESV)), while others emphasize spiritual deficiency rather than a natural state (i.e., “person without the Spirit” (NIV 2010); “unspiritual,” (RSV, NRSV), “people who aren’t spiritual” (NLT)). If we bring an oppositional view of nature and grace and a “spectacular” understanding of the charismata to this text, it could easily be read as reinforcing a strong divorce between natural and charismatic phenomena. The term psychikos for Paul clearly indicates earthly life without the gift of the Spirit (see Eduard Schweizer, “psychikos,” ed. Gerhard Kittel and Gerhard Friedrich, trans by. G. W. Bromiley, Theological Dictionary of the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1985), 1352. The rejected “gifts” of 2:14 are not particular phenomena such as prophecy and tongues, but the gift of Christ, and the new life that is imparted through faith in him. I found the connection made by Victor Furnish between 2:12 (we have the Spirit in order to understand what has been bestowed) and 12:3 (“no one can say, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ except by the Holy Spirit.”) to be illuminating on this point. See Victor Paul Furnish, The Theology of the First Letter to the Corinthians (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999), 96-97. What has been rejected by the world is Christ crucified, because they do not have the Spirit of God and therefore have not discerned the wisdom of God which has been revealed to the Christians (cf. [ Page ] 21 that our humanity is transformed into that of a pneumatikos, and we enter into the life of the Spirit, in which we discern that all things are gifts from God, whose surprising grace elevates and works in consonance with our natural gifts and abilities.14 The issue, therefore, is not the difference between natural and spiritual phenomena, but between natural and spiritual persons. The question of discernment remains an important one, and will be taken up below, even if it is not cast primarily in the form of the distinction between natural and supernatural phenomena. We must also note that the diverse charismata are vocational gifts. These are gifts which bring with them an obligation that they be used for the upbuilding of the body of Christ (1 Cor. 12:7; Eph. 4:12).15 Paul’s parallelism between “gifts” (charismata), “services” (diakonia), and “activities” (energemata) in 1 Cor. 12:4-6 implies a close relationship between the varieties of gifts / ministries / activities and the Spirit’s activity in the Church. This is supported by the fact that the various lists of charisms found in Pauline literature move between capacities, _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 1:18, 2:6-10). So, Paul’s message is not primarily about the difference between natural abilities and spiritual gifts, but about the fact that, in Christ and through the gift of the Spirit, the Corinthian Christians are the inheritors of an immeasurable wealth of gifts, of which the diverse charismata of chapter 12 are but one part (cf. 1 Cor. 3:21-23). Indeed, it is the gift-character of all things that excludes boasting (1 Cor. 4:7). If even life and death and the present and future are to be recognized as gifts by those who are in Christ (1 Cor. 3:22), why not so-called “natural abilities”, in addition to those charismata which defy any “natural” explanation? 14 Murphy’s comment on this point is as follows: “...God is the author of both nature and supernature. In the providential plan of the divine economy, He grants to each person those natural gifts and sufficient supernatural graces to attain eternal happiness.” However, he maintains that the charisms “fall under this latter category,” that is, the supernatural, “even though we cannot always distinguish them from the former.” Murphy, Charisms and Church Renewal, 52. I find it more helpful to describe the charismata as, in some cases, a gracious transformation of natural capacity, rather than a “supernatural” gift which is not easily discerned. Käsemann is almost right to assert that Paul’s vision includes the potential for “all things” to be included in the realm of the “charismatic,” though I would assert that what is required for this transformation is more than merely a “recognition” of the lordship of Christ by the human person. That is, Käsemann’s perspective seems to undermine the extra nos character of the Spirit’s work. See Käsemann “Ministry and Community in the New Testament” 72. 15 Käsemann summarizes the relationship between charism and vocation by saying that “there is no divine gift which does not bring with it a task, there is no grace which does not move to action. Service is not merely the consequence but the outward form and the realization of grace.” Käsemann, “Ministry and Community in the New Testament,” 65. See also James D. G. Dunn, “The Spirit and the Body of Christ,” in The Christ & The Spirit, Volume 2: Pneumatology (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998), 347; Sullivan, Charisms and Charismatic Renewal, 30-31; Dulles, “The Charism of the New Evangelizer,” 35-36; d’ Arc, “Panorama des charismes,” 506-507. I will revisit this aspect of the charisms shortly, as it relates to the question of their relationship to sanctifying grace. [ Page ] 22 activities, and roles - often within the same list of charismata .16 The diverse charisms of which we are speaking, then, are gifts which are given “for the common good” (1 Cor. 12:7), not merely for the benefit of the particular persons to whom they are given. The orientation of the charismata towards the upbuilding of the Church means that charismata are not necessarily sanctifying gifts, though they are potentially sanctifying. There are specific New Testament texts which lend support to the notion that charisms are not sanctifying gifts, in that they indicate the exercise of extraordinary gifts by those who are not faithful to Christ.17 Historically, Thomas Aquinas maintained a strong distinction between charisms (as gratiae gratis datae) and sanctifying grace (gratia gratum faciens).18 The fact that charisms can exist “without goodness of conduct” was taken by Thomas as evidence that they are not sanctifying.19 In recent literature on charisms, Karl Rahner suggests that this distinction, while not completely inappropriate in some cases, is foreign to Paul. Rahner rightly suggests that anyone truly fulfilling their function in the body of Christ must be doing so as the result of the _______________________________________ 16 Consider, for example, 1 Corinthians 12:28-30, where some of the charismata Paul discusses carry with them specific roles (offices?) (apostle, prophet, teacher), while others are described in terms of a specific action or capacity for action (deeds of power, gifts of healing, administration, etc.). In either case, there is a clear link between having a certain gift and carrying it out in the context of the Christian community. Romans 12:3-8 also makes this clear, speaking of the gift and its exercise as part of the functioning of the body. 17 Chief among them would be Matthew 7:22-23, with its stern warning, “I never knew you; go away from me, you evildoers.” We might also return to the question of discernment addressed in 1 Corinthians 12:1-3, noting that there would be no need for such a test if charismatic gifts were only given to the sanctified. One might object that these would be evidence of false charisms, rather than genuine charisms exercised by false Christians. Further comments by Dunn, to be discussed below, should help to answer this objection. 18 See Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae: The Gospel of Grace (1a2œ. 106-114), trans by. Cornelius Ernst (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), q. 111, pp. 125-144 and ; Summa Theologiae: Prophecy and other Charisms (2a2œ. 171-8), trans by. Roland Potter (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006). For Thomas, sanctifying grace effects our participation in the divine nature and brings us to union with God, while gratuitous graces are ordered to sanctifying grace, in that they are given to enable others to receive sanctifying grace. This is summarized well by Serge-Thomas Bonino: “Sanctifying grace (or grace gratum faciens) is a created participation in the divine nature, as much at the level of being as of acting. It brings about one’s union with the last end, which is God. Graces gratuitously given (gratis datae) - or charisms - are given to some so that they may dispose others to receive sanctifying grace...Charisms are thus wholly ordered to sanctifying grace.” Serge-Thomas Bonino, “Charisms, Forms, and States of Life (IIa IIae, qq. 171-189),” in The Ethics of Aquinas, ed. Stephen Pope, trans by. Mary Thomas Noble (Washington D.C.: Georgetown University Press, 2002), 341. 19 See q. 172, a. 4: “Prophecy, as other charisms, is granted for the utility of the Churchy It is not ordered directly so that the prophet’s will can be united to God, which is the purpose of charity. That is why prophecy can exist without goodness of conduct, if we bear in mind the first root of all good conduct which is sanctifying grace.” Thomas Aquinas, Prophecy and Other Charisms, 41. [ Page ] 23 Spirit’s sanctifying work, and that such service will surely further one’s sanctification.20 However, the Corinthian correspondence suggests that we should not underestimate the potential divisiveness of charisms.21 While some might object that anything which destroys unity is necessarily not a genuine charism, Dunn points out that Paul does not question the genuineness of the Corinthian charisms, but rather notes the dangers inherent in charismatic phenomena when exercised without love.22 The apparent immaturity of the Corinthian Christians, coupled with the fact that Paul treats their charisms as genuine, underlines the point that, while we might expect charisms, properly exercised, to be sanctifying, even genuine charisms provide no guarantee of sanctification. This has important implications for the recognition of ecclesial charisms, which will be discussed further in chapter II.4. Fifthly, the charismata are subject to discernment, evaluation and oversight. This is particularly clear in Paul’s treatment of the charisms of tongues and prophecy in 1 Corinthians 12-14. Paul begins chapter 12 by identifying the primary criterion for authenticating pneumatic phenomena: acknowledgment of the lordship of Christ (1 Cor. 12:3). Since the “spectacular” phenomena (miracles, prophecy, healing) were present also in pagan worship,23 they could not be ___________________________________ 20 Rahner argues that Paul “only envisages the case where the charismata both sanctify the recipient and redound to the benefit of the whole Body of Christ simultaneously and reciprocally ...For how else could one truly sanctify oneself except by unselfish service to others in the one Body of Christ by the power of the Spirit? And how could one fail to be sanctified if one faithfully takes up and fulfils one’s real and true function in the body of Christ?” Rahner, The Dynamic Element in the Church, 55. In connection with this question, Gabriel Murphy makes the obvious point that the charismatic, as “a member of that Church which is built up by the Holy Spirit through the influence of His gifts,” will surely participate in the fruits of those gifts, even though the charisms “are not given primarily for the sanctification of the receiver, but rather for the good of his neighbour.” Murphy, Charisms and Church Renewal, 56. 21 Dunn raises some important questions about the potentially divisive character of charismata, noting that in Corinth, “far from expressing the unity of the Spirit, charismatic phenomena in Corinth had in actual fact expressed lack of love, lack of faith, lack of hope; far from building up the Corinthian community, charismata constituted one of its chief threats.” Dunn, Jesus and the Spirit, 267. 22 “Paul does not dispute that the Corinthians experienced genuine charismata, including prophecy, faith, giving. But even genuine charismata of the most striking nature when exercised without love made for strife within the community and stunted the growth of the body.” Ibid., 271. 23 James D. G. Dunn, 1 Corinthians, New Testament Guides (Sheffield, UK: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995), 80; Bittlinger, Gifts and Graces: A Commentary on 1 Corinthians 12-14, 14-15; Käsemann, “Ministry and Community in the New Testament,” 65-67. The primary text for this is 1 Corinthians 12:1-3, but there is some debate on the [ Page ] 24 taken as self-authenticating. Thus Paul has set the community as a whole over each specific charism and its bearer. The Spirit can therefore be identified as the source of “church order,” but claims to the Spirit’s activity must be tested, and must conform to the criteria of confessing the lordship of Christ.24 This, combined with the vocational direction of the charismata, means that in their various proclamations (in word or deed) of Christ’s lordship, the charisms are given for the edification of the Church, and can be evaluated on this basis as well.25 The confession of the lordship of Christ and the Church’s edification are not to be seen as discreet criteria, but are two aspects of the same pneumatic action in the Church. The building up of the Church is growing into knowledge of Christ, the head of the body, from whom each part, when functioning properly, promotes the edification of the whole (Eph. 4:15-16).26 Sixth, a definition of the charismata must include a statement of their interdependent ________________________________________________________________________________________________________ meaning of “led astray” in 1 Corinthians 12:2. Does Paul imply here that the Corinthians had been involved in ecstatic religious experiences in their former pagan worship, and should this be taken as a rebuke of pagan “spirit possession,” as opposed to Christian pneumatic experiences? The pagan phenomena, then, would be the manifestation of demonic forces, in which worshippers are “carried away” in ecstasy. This is one line of argument, exemplified by Bittlinger, Gifts and Graces: A Commentary on 1 Corinthians 12-14, 14-15. An alternative reading is that the pagan worshippers were carried away “to” idols, meaning enticed to idol worship (so the NRSV). Terence Paige suggests that Paul’s language here evokes a pagan festival procession, in which the priest carried the idol along a sacred route and worshippers followed. Terence Paige, “1 Corinthians 12.2: A Pagan Pompe?,” Journal for the Study of the New Testament 44 (1991): 57-65. 24 In other words, in spite of the fact that the Spirit is free, the Spirit’s actions are not incoherent, and they can be recognized by their christological referent. To borrow Johannine language, we know that the Spirit was sent by the Father in the name of the Son, to remind us about the things that the Son has said (John 14:26), and to glorify the Son (John 17:14). Thus charismatic claims must be evaluated, in the first place, by their conformity to the Spirit’s mission of glorifying the mission of the Son. Conzelman writes, “Paul sets the church over these phenomena by regulating the appearance of the pneumatics (1 Cor. 14:39). How is that possible, if the spirit blows where it wills? The spirit is free, but not arbitrary. It appears where the Lord is made known. So the spirit itself becomes the principle of church order.” Hans Conzelmann, An Outline of the Theology of the New Testament, trans by. John Bowden (New York: Harper and Row, 1969), 259. 25 Conzelmann brings these two points together in his discussion of charisms: “The criteria that Paul sets is an objective one, confession of the Lord (1 Cor. 12:3). That means that the manifestations are to be judged according to the extent that they edify the Church of the Lord (1 Cor. 14:26; and ch. 14).” Ibid. Käsemann puts it this way: “For this is what distinguishes charismata from heathen pneumatika: they are validated not by the fascinosum of the preternatural but by the edification of the community.” Käsemann, “Ministry and Community in the New Testament,” 66. 26 According to Ephesians 4, Christ’s gifts were given “to equip the saints for the work of the ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until all of us come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to maturity, to the full measure of the stature of Christ” (Eph. 4:12-13). This also coalesces well with the mission of the Spirit as witness to Christ, to be discussed below. [ Page ] 25 character. This point is obviously underscored by Paul’s use of the human body as an analogy for the Church as the body of Christ (1 Cor. 12:12-30). The plurality of members is necessary for the proper health of the body, and each member’s particular contribution to the whole body is dependent upon its proper relation to the other members within the body. Each part, then, is essential for the health of the whole, even those parts which are “weaker” and “less honourable” (1 Cor. 12:22-25). In spite of this interdependence, it must be said that the charismata, improperly exercised, can also be divisive - if this were not the case, Paul might never have written so extensively to the fractured Corinthian church on the topic of charisms.27 Finally, the charismata have a provisional character in relation to the eschaton, and are therefore subordinate to the enduring divine gift of love. The most extensive scriptural passage addressing the charismata, 1 Corinthians 12-14, is structured in a concentric fashion around the climactic claims of chapter 13 regarding love’s exalted status over the charismata.28 The charismata are nothing without love, and they will pass away, whereas love will endure. The Corinthians’ behaviour shows that they have prioritized charismata over love, and Paul wants to reverse this situation. Love, then, while it is indeed a divine gift of grace, is not one of the diverse charismata about which we are speaking, but is rather an essential aspect of the gift of salvation in Christ, and therefore a criterion for assessing the exercise of any vocational gift. In summary, then, charisma in Paul’s writings refers to a free gift of grace, and can refer to the gift of salvation, to some divine blessing given to a person or group, or to the diverse vocational gifts given to persons in the Church. Charisms as diverse vocational gifts are given _____________________________________ 27 The “threat” of charisms to the community in this way (to be taken up shortly) is discussed by Dunn in Jesus and the Spirit, 267-271.; see also Albert Vanhoye, “Nécessité de la diversite dans 1’unité selon 1 Co 12 et Rom 12,” in Unité et diversité dans l’église (Vatican City: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1989), 143-145. 28 The rhetorical force of Paul’s argument is summarized well in Njiru, Charisms and the Holy Spirit’s Activity in the Body of Christ, 31-68. Njiru detects a series of overlapping concentric circles in the structure of 1 Cor. 12-14, which he summarizes on p. 68. His overall point is that “Paul’s method of writing is very rhetorical, and, by the use of concentric figures, he achieves the effect of emphasizing the importance of love as a regulatory principle in the use of spiritual gifts in the Church. For the Apostle it is love that must govern the use of all charisms.” Ibid., 49. [ Page ] 26 for the edification of the whole body of Christ, and can only fulfil their purpose when exercised in love and within the Church. Finally, charisms are not self-authenticating, and must be subject to evaluation and oversight. PENTECOST AND CHARISMS AS FIRST FRUITS OF THE SPIRIT I now want to place this Pauline teaching on the diverse charismata in the context of a canonical reading of the Pentecost narrative, in order to highlight the anticipatory and sacrificial dimensions of charisms as first fruits of the Spirit. This canonical interpretation of Pentecost provides important safeguards against triumphalistic assumptions regarding the nature of the Spirit’s work in the Church. Pentecost occupies a key place in the biblical narrative, marking the fulfilment of the promise given by Christ (Acts 1:8, Luke 12:2; John 14-16), and harkening back explicitly to the prophesied eschatological outpouring of the Spirit in Joel 2:28-32.29 Pentecost signifies the dawning of the age of the Church, a new era in which the Spirit’s gifts, previously limited to particular people and situations, are distributed liberally to all the people of God, young and old, male and female, slave and free (Joel 2:28-29; Gal. 3:28).30 However, there is a ____________________________________ 29 The sense that the infant church was entering into a time of the fullness of the Spirit is underscored by Luke’s choice the wording en to symplerousthai to signify the arrival of Pentecost, captured best by the KJV translation’s “when the day of Pentecost was fully come.” Jaroslav Pelikan, Acts, Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible (Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2005), 48-49. Pelikan also notes the way this sense of a temporal “fullness” is an echo of Luke in 9:51, “When the days drew near for him to be taken up,” and in Paul’s reference to the “fullness of time” in Galatians 4:4. It would seem to be a subtle clue that this is a key transitional moment in the history of salvation. On this note of fulfillment, see also E. Lohse, “pentekoste,” ed. Gerhard Kittel and Gerhard Friedrich, trans by. G. W. Bromiley, Theological Dictionary of the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1985); Darrell L. Bock, Acts, Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007), 94. [ Page ] 27 danger that this Lukan theme of “fullness” might be taken out of its context in the larger scriptural narrative. Therefore, the canonical significance of the feast of Pentecost as an Israelite festival must be taken into consideration as it relates to the outpouring of the Spirit in Acts.31 Pentecost was one of the three great festivals in Israelite worship, coming between Passover and the Feast of Tabernacles, and in first century Palestine it remained one of the three festivals which included pilgrimage to Jerusalem.32 The Feast of Weeks, which began with a day for the offering of first fruits on the first Sabbath after Passover (Lev. 23:10-11), ended fifty days later at Pentecost, which came to be known as the primary celebration of first fruits (Num. 28:26, Lev. 23:17).33 First fruits were a sacrifice, offered both as a thanksgiving for the faithfulness of God in the past, a celebration of God’s provision in the present, and as a promising sign of the future harvest which was to come.34 ___________________________________ 31 I am indebted to Howard Snyder for pointing out the significance of Pentecost as a feast of first fruits. See his chapter on “The Pentecostal Renewal of the Church” in Yes in Christ: Wesleyan Reflections on Gospel, Mission, and Culture, Tyndale Studies in Wesleyan History and Theology 2 (Toronto: Clements Academic, 2011), 259-294. I rely heavily upon Snyder in the coming section because, as he notes, the canonical significance of Pentecost is a surprisingly neglected theme in the history of theology. Ibid., 259. 32 Snyder, Yes in Christ, 261.; Bock, Acts, 95. 33 Ephraim Radner, Leviticus, Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible (Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2008), 247. The connection between Pentecost and “first fruits” is not often noted. Among patristic sources, Chrysostom makes a typological connection between the ancient harvest festival and Christ’s own status as an offering of first fruits: “Dost thou perceive the type? What is this Pentecost? The time when the sickle was to be put to the harvest, and the ingathering was made. See now the reality, when the time was come to put in the sickle of the word: for here, as the sickle, keen-edged, came the Spirit down. For hear the words of Christ: “Lift up your eyes,” He said, “and look on the fields, for they are white already to harvest.” (John iv. 35.) And again, “The harvest truly is great, but the laborers are few.” (Matt. ix. 38.) But as the first-fruits of this harvest, He himself took [our nature], and bore it up on high. Himself first put in the sickle.” John Chrysostom, “Homily IV on Acts 2.1,2” in Philip Schaff, A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, vol. 11, First Series (New York: The Christian Literature Company, 1889), 25. This has not been a major theme of recent scholarship. I. Howard Marshall begins his 1977 article on the meaning of Pentecost by noting its OT roots as a first fruits festival, but then offers no further reflection on possible connections between the two events. See I. Howard Marshall, “The Significance of Pentecost,” Scottish Journal of Theology 30, no. 4 (1977): 347-369. More recently, Stefan Schreiber has probed the first fruits dimension of Acts 2, but suggests that it was purely a Lukan invention, not found elsewhere in the New Testament. Stefan Schreiber, “Aktualisierung göttlichen Handelns am Pfingsttag Das frühjüdische Fest in Apg 2,1,” Zeitschrift fur die Neutestamentliche Wissenschaft und Kunde der Alteren Kirche 93 (2002): 58-77. Bock’s recent commentary tentatively suggests that the first fruits dimension is not excluded by the New Testament. Bock, Acts, 95. 34 Snyder notes that later Judaism associated Pentecost with the giving of the law, but that this association developed after the destruction of the temple in 70 A.D., meaning that, for Christ and the Apostles, Pentecost would have retained its connection with first fruits, as in the Hebrew Scriptures. Snyder, Yes in Christ, 261-262. See also [ Page ] 28 While the New Testament writers do not explicitly link Pentecost with a harvest of first fruits,35 it is difficult not to see the significance of interpreting it as such. First of all, the fact that the first fruits offerings were sacrificial means that, like all Israelite sacrifices, they can be interpreted from a Christian perspective as types of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross. Secondly, there is the important eschatological harvest imagery which runs throughout the New Testament, and is particularly strong in the teaching of Christ concerning the final judgment.36 Thirdly, though the Feast of Weeks per se does not feature prominently in the New Testament, the concept of first fruits is used a number of times, in relation to Christ’s resurrection (1 Cor. 15:20- 23), the present action of the Spirit in the Church (Romans 8:23), and Christians themselves in relation to creation (James 1:18) and humankind (Rev. 14:4). Finally, recalling the Johannine identification of the cross with the feast of Passover (John 13:1), Pentecost, as the first fruits festival which caps off fifty days of first fruits celebration, evokes a sense of anticipatory __________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Radner, Leviticus, 247-248. This judgment is supported by Marshall, Lincoln, and Barrett. Marshall, “The Significance of Pentecost,” 348-349; Andrew T. Lincoln, “Theology and History in the Interpretation of Luke’s Pentecost,” Expository Times 96 (1995): 204-209; C. K. Barrett, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Acts of the Apostles, vol. 1, International Critical Commentary (Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1994), 111. Daniélou, in noting that the sources after the fourth century began to make the connection between the giving of the law and Pentecost, agrees that the harvest imagery is “the only symbolism of which there is any question in the Scriptures.” Augustine, as Danielou notes, is the first to make the connection. “For as fifty days are reckoned from the celebration of the Passover (which was ordered by Moses to be offered by slaying the typical lamb, to signify, indeed, the future death of the Lord) to the day when Moses received the law written on the tables of stone by the finger of God, so, in like manner, from the death and resurrection of Him who was led as a lamb to the slaughter, there were fifty complete days up to the time when the finger of God—that is, the Holy Spirit—gathered together in one perfect company those who believed.” A Treatise on the Spirit and the Letter, ch. 28, Philip Schaff, A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, vol. 5, First Series (New York: The Christian Literature Company, 1887), 95. Cf. Jean Daniélou, The Bible and the Liturgy, University of Notre Dame Liturgical Studies III (Notre Dame IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1956), 331-332. 35 Indeed, the festival is scarcely mentioned in the NT. Outside of Acts 2, it is mentioned only in Acts 20:6 and 1 Corinthians 16:8, both times only as a date-marker, rather than a theologically significant date. Some have speculated that John 5:1 might be referring to Pentecost, but this is debatable. Snyder, Yes in Christ, 263. 36 Ibid., 264-266. Snyder notes that, of course Jesus often draws on harvest imagery in his teaching, for example, in the parable of the sower (Mk. 4:1-20; Matt. 13:1-23; Luke 8:4-15). Significantly, in many of the parables of the kingdom the harvest is explicitly identified with the final judgment, as in Matthew 13:30: “the harvest is the end of the age, and the reapers are angels” (cf. Rev. 14:15). Snyder also connects this theme of harvest with the work of the Spirit, through Paul’s exhortation to his readers to “sow the Spirit” to reap a harvest of eternal life (Gal. 6:9), and his image of the perishable seed and the imperishable body in 1 Cor. 15:35-49. [ Page ] 29 harvest, looking toward the final reaping which is to come at the eschaton.37 The outpouring of the Spirit, then, on this day of first fruits, should be seen, not as a complete “fullness” of the Spirit, but as an anticipatory offering of young fruit which is to mature and yield a much greater harvest in the promised future.38 Their anticipatory character means that the pneumatic first fruits of Pentecost are a proleptic foretaste of the complete fulfillment of Joel 2, in which the Church experiences in itself the outpouring upon “all flesh,” which is to come, at the “great and terrible day of the Lord” (Joel 2:28, 31).39 Further, the canonical association of the charisms of Pentecost with first fruits sets them in a sacrificial context, suggesting that charisms should be, in some sense, be concrete examples of Christian self-denial - figures of the cross.40 Charisms, therefore, as first fruits of the Spirit, are not to be seen merely as divine acts of “mercy” and “life,” bestowing blessings upon their recipients, but also as anticipatory acts of “judgment.” This is consistent with Jesus own description of the work of the Spirit as convicting the world about sin, righteousness, and judgment - each of which finds its ________________________________________ 37 Christ’s resurrection, then, coming on the first Sunday after Passover, is the initial offering of first fruits, to be followed by the main celebration of first fruits on the day of Pentecost fifty days later, when the first fruits of the new creation are harvested and offered up as a sacrifice to God in the outpouring of the Spirit. As Radner notes, the traditional Jewish understanding of this time in their liturgical calendar was that the fifty days in the Feast of Weeks marked the wanderings of the people in the desert, and the day of Pentecost was seen as the entry into the promised land: “...as Deut. 26:1-11 points out, this passage from and to the First fruits - from Passover to the Feast of Weeks - is primarily the story of Israel's wanderings, from deliverance in Egypt in the midst of the death of the firstborn to a promised land where all that is enjoyed is given by God.” Radner Leviticus 247. 38 Noting, with Snyder, that this should not be taken as a simple “spiritualization” of the OT festivals. The realities of dependence on the land, seedtime and harvest, still remain, and should not be opposed to the “spiritual” teaching of the New Testament, but can rather be seen as both expressing the gracious provision of the Triune God. Snyder, Yes in Christ, 266. 39 In other words, the prophecy of Joel 2:28-31 has not yet reached its fulfillment. The Spirit’s action in the Church is an anticipatory outpouring - the experience of what God has in store for all creation in the last day. Though this is a somewhat novel interpretation of the relationship between Joel 2 and Acts 2, it is not without precedent. John Wesley speaks of the universal spread of the gospel as the time when the “grand Pentecost shall ‘fully come’, and ‘devout men in every nation under heaven’, however distant in place from each other, shall ‘all be filled with the Holy Ghost.’” §20 of Sermon 63, “The General Spread of the Gospel,” in The Works of John Wesley, vol. 2 (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1985), 494. 40 This reinforces the christological criteria for charisms, set out in 1 Corinthians 12:1-3. The pneumatic person, both in word and deed, is to confess the lordship of the crucified Christ. [ Page ] 30 meaning in the saving work of Christ (John 16:8-12).41 In the crucified Jesus, divine mercy and judgment are brought together, and the two cannot be separated from one another. This two- sided character of the Spirit’s work in the Church is therefore rooted in the Spirit’s glorification of the Son. Therefore the Spirit’s display of both mercy and judgment in the historical life of the Church ought to be a fundamental theme in the theology of charisms. For if the Spirit participates in God’s acts of judgment as well as God’s acts of mercy, then the Church, as people among whom the kingdom is already breaking in to the present age by the Spirit’s work, will manifest the eschatological judgment just as surely as they will manifest eschatological life and renewal. Judgment begins with the house of God (1 Peter. 4:17).42 CHARISMS AND ISRAEL The claim that the prophecy from Joel 2:28-31 was proleptically fulfilled in the Church at Pentecost provokes further questions regarding the work of the Spirit in the history of God’s people prior to Pentecost. The Christian tradition has always identified the Holy Spirit as the same Spirit who spoke through the prophets, signifying continuity between the Spirit’s work in Israel and the Spirit’s work in the Church.43 However, the claim to the prophecy from Joel 2 ______________________________________ 41 Of course, the inextricable link between judgment and mercy is not merely adduced from such explicit teachings of Christ, but from the entire biblical narrative, which finds its meaning in the climactic act of judgment and mercy at the cross of Calvary. If all of history and creation in God’s oikonomia of salvation is to be gathered up in Christ (Eph. 1:10), then it is in Christ and his cross - the ultimate revelation of both God’s judgment and his mercy - that all things find their centre and true meaning. To return to Radner’s comments on the meaning of the festivals of Leviticus 23, and their reference to Christ: “Like the Eucharist in 1 Cor. 11, the festivals work for life and death at the same time (also 2 Cor. 2:15-16), as God draws near in their midst, and they come to the single body of judgment and mercy together.” Radner, Leviticus, 249. The charisms are surely another way in which God draws near into the midst of his people, in both mercy and judgment. 42 1 Peter 4:17 - “For the time has come for judgment to begin with the household of God; if it begins with us, what will be the end for those who do not obey the gospel of God?” I was alerted to this verse in connection with manifestation of judgment in the Church’s life through George Lindbeck’s suggestions regarding an “Israel-like” view of the Church. On this point specifically, Lindbeck writes, “The final consummation which has begun in Christ is proleptically present in this people as nowhere else, but so also is the eschatological judgment (1 Pet. 4:17; cf. Amos 3.2 and Jer. 25.29).” Lindbeck “The Church ” 157. 43 This is clear at a number of points in the New Testament, notably in Jesus’ proclamation of Isaiah 61 in the synagogue at the beginning of his public ministry, in Luke’s account. We could also note Peter’s citation of Joel [ Page ] 31 points to a certain discontinuity as well. How ought this relationship to be characterized? How did the charismatic life of the people of Israel differ from the charismatic life of the Church, post-Pentecost? This question has implications for the question of biblical “group charisms,” as I will demonstrate shortly. There are certainly enough obvious cases of extraordinary manifestations of the Spirit in the Old Testament which can provide a starting point.44 Moses himself is known as a prophet (Deut. 18:18), and this prophetic gift was shared in a limited way with the seventy elders appointed to assist him (Num. 11:16-30), before being passed on to Joshua at a later time (Num. 27:18). The period of the judges seems to match most closely our modern notion of “charismatic leadership” - leaders who were “raised up by God,” in response to a specific need of the time, _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 2:28-31 in his Pentecost sermon as a paradigmatic example. For developments in the post-apostolic tradition, see Yves Congar, I Believe in the Holy Spirit (New York: Crossroad, 1997), I: 6-7. The creedal affirmation that the Holy Spirit is the one “who spoke through the prophets” is anticipated in early sources such as the well known regula fidei of Irenaeus, Against Heresies, I.10 (“and in the Holy Spirit, who proclaimed through the prophets the dispensations of God”), Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson, eds., Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 1 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1885), 330. See also Justin’s description of Baptism in his First Apology, 62: “...and in the name of the Holy Ghost who through the prophets foretold all things about Jesus ” Ibid 1:183 44 I assume here a Christian reading of the Old Testament, in which the Trinitarian God is assumed to be the true God, and therefore where clear references to the divine “spirit” are accepted as references to the same Holy Spirit as worshipped by the Christian church. In doing so, I am not implying that every single reference to “spirit” in the Old Testament is necessarily a reference to the Holy Spirit; nor am I denying the realities of theological development in belief about God’s Spirit among the people of ancient Israel, or the importance of these developments in exegeting particular Old Testament passages in their own right. Rather, I am reading the scriptures as a canonical whole, and therefore, with historical Christian tradition, I interpret Old Testament texts which may be somewhat vague in their own right according to the later Christian texts of the New Testament and the Church’s reception of these texts. The matter is summarized by Brevard Childs as a recognition of the difference between scripture as witness in its discrete forms and the divine reality which is attested in the canon of scripture as a whole: “Because of a fuller knowledge of the reality of God revealed through reading the whole corpus of scripture, the biblical texts resonate in a particular Christian fashion which has of course been confirmed by the church’s liturgical experience.” Brevard S. Childs, Biblical Theology of the Old and New Testaments: Theological Reflection on the Christian Bible (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), 382. In the case of the particular texts we are considering here, the New Testament clearly asserts that the ruach of the LORD referenced in Joel 2 is the same Holy Spirit with is poured out on the Church at Pentecost in Acts 2:16-18. For discussions of historical development and the divergent strands which can be seen in the Old Testament scriptures, see Donald G. Bloesch, The Holy Spirit: Works & Gifts, Christian Foundations (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2000), 64-77; Congar, I Believe in the Holy Spirit, I: 3-14; Gonzalo Haya-Prats, L’Esprit, Force de L’Église: Sa nature et son activité d’après les Actes des Apôtres, trans by. José J. Romero, Lectio Divina 81 (Paris: Les Editions du Cerf, 1975), 21-29; Koenig, Charismata, 21-47. For a more programmatic summary of Christian reflection on the role of the Spirit prior to the Incarnation, based on traditional Christian sources, see Thomas C. Oden, Systematic Theology, vol. 3 (Peabody MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 2006), 32-47. [ Page ] 32 without recourse to an official line of succession. And indeed, the vocation and activity of the judges is often explicitly attributed to the activity of God’s Spirit.45 Samuel comes as the climactic figure in the line of judges, who combines the office of prophet with that of judge, until the people demand a king in Saul.46 The prophetic Spirit plays a key role in the kingship of both Saul and David, with David marking the end of unpredictably “raised up” leadership, and the beginning of a succession of anointed kings.47 Of course, the prophets are an obvious case of pneumatic activity, and one could cite texts such as Ezekiel 2:2 and Isaiah 61:1 as characteristic examples. There are the earlier examples of Elijah and Elisha, whose ministries were marked by phenomena that we must, from a Christian perspective, describe as concrete bestowals of grace by the power of the Holy Spirit. Further “extraordinary” pneumatic phenomena could be listed, but we should also note that, as with the Pauline charismata, there are some activities in the Old Testament which seem “natural” and yet are explicitly associated with the Spirit’s activity. On a foundational level, the Spirit’s activity is described as the life-giving power behind all creation (Gen. 1:2; Ps. 104:30), _____________________________________ 45 As is well known, the repeated cycle of Israel’s disobedience, followed by God’s judgment, and his subsequent “raising up” of judges to deliver them is outlined in Judges 2:11-23, and then becomes the narrative structure of th book itself. For specific references to the Spirit acting upon some of the judges see 3:10 (Othniel), 6:34 (Gideon), 11:39 (Jephthah), 13:25, 14:6, 14:19 (Samson). Othniel (3:10); Gideon (6:34); Jephthah (11:39); Samson (13:25; 14:6; 14:19); Saul as last of judges and first of kings (1 Sam. 10:6-13; 11:6). 46 The Spirit is not often mentioned in relation to Samuel’s calling or ministry, but again, from a Christian perspective, we cannot but assert that this man who was known as a “trustworthy prophet of the LORD” (1 Sam. 3:20) was serving under the guidance of the same Spirit who animates the prophetic office of the Church after Pentecost. Of course, 1 Sam. 19:20 does make the specific connection: “When they saw the company of the prophets in a frenzy, with Samuel standing in charge of them, the spirit of God came upon the messengers of Saul, and they also went into a prophetic frenzy.” 47 See 1 Sam. 10:6, 10:10, 11:6 for the Spirit’s presence with Saul, but note also the transition which is made at David’s anointing: “the spirit of the LORD came mightily upon David from that day forward. Samuel then set out and went to Ramah. Now the spirit of the LORD had departed from Saul, and an evil spirit from the LORD tormented him” (16:13-14). The promise to David’s line in 2 Sam. 7 marks the beginning of the succession, of course, which is passed on by an anointing of oil (1 Kings 1:39). Of course it is also significant that David’s last words are given as a prophetic oracle: “The spirit of the LORD speaks through me, his word is upon my tongue” (2 Sam. 23:2). [ Page ] 33 and human life in particular (Gen. 2:7).48 Joseph’s interpretation of Pharaoh’s dream is attributed to the “spirit of God,” yet he is not described as being in any kind of ecstatic state at the time (Gen. 41:38). In Exodus, Bezalal is identified as one “filled with divine spirit” for his task as a craftsman, called by God to play an important role in the preparation of the tabernacle (Ex. 31:3, 35:31). Similarly, though “extraordinary” prophetic activity is associated with the Davidic line of kings, their description as God’s “anointed” (i.e., Ps. 2:2) implies a pneumatic anointing upon their rule in a successive and official sense. Finally, in Proverbs, we see wisdom itself personalized and closely identified with the Spirit of God, to such an extent that some interpreters have read the wisdom speech of chapter 8 as pertaining specifically to the Holy Spirit.49 The Old Testament, however, never refers to these pneumatic phenomena as “gifts.” Charisma is not used in the LXX except on three variant readings,50 and there is no Hebrew word which corresponds to the Greek charisma.51 Compared to the NT’s consistent use of either __________________________________ 48 See also Job 26:13, “By his wind [ruach] the heavens were made fair,” and Psalm 33:6: “By the word of the Lord the heavens were made / and all their host by the breath [ruach] of his mouth.” The role of the Spirit in the natural world will be particularly important to keep in mind as we consider the question of “nature” and “grace” in relation to the institutional and charismatic dimensions of the Church. The tendency to forget the Spirit’s role in the creation and preservation of the world, and in the providential shaping of all of history, underwrites a narrow identification of the Spirit only with extraordinary or “naturally unexplainable” phenomena. 49 Of course, in the early tradition, some identified the wisdom of Proverbs 8 with the Son. Justin, for example, identified the Son with both Logos and Sophia, whereas Irenaeus distinguishes between Son as Logos and Spirit as Sapientia. See J. N. D. Kelly, Early Christian Doctrines, Revised. (Peabody MA: Prince Press, 2007), 102-106. For more detailed discussion of the scriptural data, including apocryphal literature, see Congar, I Believe in the Holy Spirit, 9-12. The point is that the particular activity of “wisdom,” as described in the wisdom literature, is similar to the Spirit’s activity. 50 They are Ps. 31:21 in the Codex Washington for “steadfast love”; Sirach 7:33 in the Codex Sinaiticus for “favour,” and Sirach 38:30 in the Codex Vaticanus, also for “favour.” See Hans Conzelmann, “charisma,” ed. Gerhard Kittel and Gerhard Friedrich, trans by. G. W. Bromiley, Theological Dictionary of the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1985). 51 John Koenig, arguing in favour of using the word, writes, “Let us risk a bit of confusion by employing the term “charismatic” to describe these Old Testament servants, despite the fact that no such word (or even equivalent word) exists in the Hebrew language. If, however, we understand the word to describe a person whose particular reception of God's Spirit differentiates him or her from the other members of the community - and this is at least part of what the Greek word charisma means in the New Testament - we have sufficient reason for applying it to those ancient Israelites with whom the ruach of God dwelt or upon whom it fell.” Koenig, Charismata, 29. See also Hans K ng, [ Page ] 34 charisma or dorea for gift, there are a myriad of Hebrew words which are rendered gift in English translations.52 Moreover, it is very rare in the OT to see a word meaning “gift” used in relation to gifts from God, much less anything like the specific sense of charismata as diverse vocational gifts given to members of people of God.53 There are a few references which could be interpreted as describing a blessing as a gift from God,54 but there is only one context in which “gift” is used in a similar sense to charisma in the New Testament. In the book of Numbers, the Levites are referred to by God twice as a gift, given to Aaron and his sons (8:19), and to the people of Israel in general (18:6), for the service that they offer on their behalf. The Aaronic priesthood is also described as a gift given directly by God: “I give your priesthood as a gift; any outsider who approaches shall be put to death” (Num. 18:6). In this case, the particular vocations of the Aaronic and Levitical priesthoods are described by God as having a gift character, which underscores the fact that they are given according to the divine will (not according to merit),55 that they are given for the service of the community as a whole, and that their dedication to the ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ “The Charismatic Structure of the Church,” in The Church and Ecumenism, Concilium 4 (Glen Rock, NJ: Paulist Press, 1965), 58. 52 Indeed, there is no Hebrew word which corresponds to charisma, according to John Koenig: “no such word (or even equivalent word) exists in the Hebrew language.” Koenig, Charismata, 29. Cross referencing several English concordances with the Strong’s Exhaustive concordance, I discovered twenty-seven different entries for Hebrew words which are rendered gift in English. The most common were variants on mattan and minchah. 53 The vast majority of these occurrences refer to religious offerings (for example, the holy gifts (qodesh) of Lev. 22) and gifts exchanged between humans (for example, Jacob’s gifts (minchah) for Esau in Genesis 32). Within these categories, however, there is a broad range of meanings and connotations, as shown in the fact the same word might be used to describe religious offerings that are acceptable or profane (cp. mattanah in Leviticus 23:38 and Ezekiel 20:26, 31, and 39), and human gifts given in sincerity or as a bribe (cp. mattanah in Ezekiel 46:16 and Proverbs 21:14). 54 In Genesis 30:20, Zebulun is described as a “good dowry” (NRSV) or “precious gift” (NIV) from God, and Psalm 127:3 includes a similar reference to children as an inheritance or heritage (NRSV, NIV, ESV) or “gift” (NASB) from the LORD. In Deutronomy 33:15-16 many English translations have inserted the word “gift” twice (i.e., NIV “gifts of the ancient mountains” and “gifts of the earth:”), though there is no Hebrew term in the original. 55 I do not think it coincidental, canonically speaking, that the description of Aaron’s priesthood as gift comes after Aaron’s two monumental failures, namely, the Golden Calf at Sinai in Exodus 32 and the false offering of his sons Nadab and Abihu in Leviticus 10. Any sense that Aaron had “earned” a right to represent the people of God was surely out of the question. [ Page ] 35 service on behalf of the people is presented in scripture as a kind of corporate sacrifice.56 On this basis, we could argue that the vocation of the charismatic leaders identified above also evidences a gift-character, for in each case, the elements of a divine choice and a vocation to sacrificially serve the community as a whole are present, even if they are not explicitly described as “gifts.” Thus, there are certainly some continuities between the charisms about which Paul writes and the Spirit’s activity in the Old Testament. The discontinuity is to be found in the extent of the Spirit’s work, which was formerly restricted to persons with a “special” role to play in the history of God’s people, and is now extended to “all flesh” in the Church (Joel 2:28). But the key to this transition is not the Church in itself, but Jesus, who, in his humanity, is the one whose human birth was conceived by the Spirit (Luke 1:35), whose baptism was sealed by the descent of the Spirit (Luke 3:22), whose ministry of proclamation was inaugurated with a declaration of the Spirit’s anointing (Luke 4:18), who cast out demons by the Spirit (Matt. 12:28), and who was raised on the third day by the same Spirit (Romans 1:4). Having ascended, Christ has become the giver of gifts to his people (Ephesians 4:7-13), which he distributes through the Spirit’s work. If the new life in Christ is to be characterized as a pneumatic life, then we ought to find its foundation in the humanity of Jesus, who could be said to be the truly pneumatic human.57 Of course, the traditional claim that the priestly, prophetic, and kingly offices of Israel were pre- figurations of Christ provides a basis for making this transition, since, as I have noted, these are the primary “charismatic” gifts discussed in the Old Testament. Those gifts which were typologically foreshadowed in Israel are now present in the Church through Jesus. ____________________________________ 56 See Numbers 3 and 8 on Levites as a substitute for the firstborn of Israel, and especially instructions for the consecration of the Levites in 8:9-11, where they are described as an “elevation offering.” Cf. the discussion in David L Stubbs Numbers Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible (Grand Rapids: Brazos 2009) 43-50 57 For an extensive discussion of Jesus as “charismatic,” see Dunn, Jesus and the Spirit, 68-92. Dunn’s conclusion is that it is indeed appropriate to speak of Jesus as a “charismatic,” but his approach leans heavily on the “extraordinary” gifts, given the sharp distinction he wishes to make between natural abilities and charismatic gifts (see n. 16 above). This approach to the question is based upon a somewhat anachronistic attempt to connect Jesus with contemporary “charismatic” / Pentecostal Christian spirituality. [ Page ] 36 Recalling, however, the above discussion of Pentecost as first fruits, and the character of God’s action as inextricably acts of judgment and mercy, we must resist the temptation to ascribe a triumphalistic “fullness” to the Church as the new Israel. In this respect I believe some of George Lindbeck’s proposals regarding the Israel-like character of the Church are helpful.58 As was the case with Israel, the election of the Church as the people of God does not imply an automatic divine blessing; their election can also be borne as a curse if they are unfaithful. Because their election is irrevocable, God’s people continue to be his witnesses in faithfulness and unfaithfulness, and proclaim in their own history God’s faithfulness in both mercy and judgment. This is borne out by Paul’s own characteristic use of Israel’s history as typological warnings to the Church.59 Charismatic endowment, then, is no guarantee of faithfulness, as we can clearly see in the life of the primitive Corinthian church. In other words, though new horizons for the Spirit’s work among God’s people in history are opened up after Christ, the Church is not the fulfillment of Israel’s promise, nor does she become the antitype of Israel’s type. Christ himself is the only fulfillment and antitype, and both Israel and church experience in their charismatic history the outworking of the christological-providential shaping of history.60 ____________________________________ 58 See Lindbeck’s essay, cited above, “The Church.” and the earlier essay which covers much of the same ground, “The Story-Shaped Church: Critical Exegesis and Theological Interpretation,” in Scriptural Authority and Narrative Interpretation (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1987), 161-78. 59 See especially Rom. 11:17-24; 1 Cor. 10:11-22. As Lindbeck notes of early Christian self-understanding and the possibility of apostasy: “All the wickedness of the Israelites in the wilderness could be theirs. They might rebel, as did Korah or perish for fornication, as did three and twenty thousand in the desert (1 Cor. 10.5-10). These happenings, Paul tells his readers, are types (tupoi) written for our admonition (v. 11). As of old, judgment continues to begin in the house of the Lord (1 Pet. 4:17), and the faithful Church can be severed from the root no less than the unbelieving synagogue (Rom. 11.21). It can, like Eve, yield to the wiles of the serpent and lose its virginal purity (2 Cor. 11:1-4). One can imagine early Christians going on in more situations, such as later developed, to say of the bride of Christ what Ezekiel said of the betrothed of Jahweh (Ezekiel 16.23): she can be a whore worse than the heathen.” Lindbeck “The Church ” 150. 60 Again, See Lindbeck’s comment on how Israel’s history is “prototypical” for the Church, rather than the “shadow” to the Church’s “reality.” Ibid. This is picked up by Ephraim Radner as he makes his case for a figural reading of Scripture as a way of interpreting the Spirit’s actions in the Church through time. See The End of the Church: A Pneumatology of Christian Division in the West (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998), 32ff. Both Radner and Lindbeck are making a distinctive point about the “pneumatic fullness” that the Christian church enjoys and how it relates to the Spirit’s presence and workings in Israel: “the Spirit-wrought holiness of the Church is a relational attribute referring to what God is making and will make of it, not to an inherent property. Pentecost marks the [ Page ] 37 The Church is still the same people of God as Israel before the new covenant. She is not a new people, because God is not a new God but the same triune God which called Abraham, Moses, David, and the prophets.61 This understanding of the Spirit’s work in the Church comports well with the Pauline teaching on charisms outlined above. The charisms, as pneumatic gifts of grace bestowed upon the Church for her edification, are no guarantee of human faithfulness or divine favour. Charisms bring a vocation, and invite us to keep in step with the Spirit in witnessing faithfully to Christ through whatever concrete bestowal of grace we have received. Charisms are not a stamp of approval for the one who bears them, but a mark which can be borne as a blessing or a curse. CHARISMS AND GROUPS IN THE BIBLE? Finally, we have come to the question which was set out at the beginning of this chapter: is there any explicit mention of “group charisms” or the application of charisms to churches in the scriptural canon? The fact that the issue has not been broached in the process of discussing the topic thus far is significant. Certainly, charisma and dorea in the broad sense (as discussed above), are applied to the gift of salvation (Rom. 5:15-16; 2 Cor. 9:15), and to the gift of the _________________________________________________________________________________________________________ beginning of the age of unheard-of possibilities, gifts, and callings, not the formation of a new people.” Lindbeck, “The Story-Shaped Church,” 168. There is a real increase of fullness, to be sure, and a broadening of the Spirit’s work. To say otherwise would be to ignore the discontinuities implied by the Pentecost narrative and the Pauline teachings on the charisms. However, these discontinuities do not amount to an assurance of the Church’s continual fidelity, because the character of the Spirit’s work has not changed, but has only been deepened and intensified. The Church has Christ’s promise that he would send the Spirit. But the Spirit is both judge and giver of life, and therefore the Spirit’s presence is not a guarantee of faithfulness, but a guarantee that the Church will continue to witness to Christ in both her faithfulness and her unfaithfulness. 61 I am still following Lindbeck’s line of reasoning on the Israel-like character of the Church, but I am approaching it from the angle of the Spirit’s work. He makes note of this, but places greater stress on the common identity of the people of God under the old and new covenants. I am stressing the fact that this common identity is rooted in the continuity between the character of the Spirit’s work, though the intensity of this work may have increased. “Who and what the people is becomes more fully manifest now that the Messiah has come. The bride of Yahweh is the bride and body of Christ. The Spirit is now offered and may be poured out on all flesh as it was not before (Acts 2.17ff.) Thus the ab initio trinitarian calling, constituting and empowering of God's people stands revealed. It is a new epoch of unheard-of possibilities and actualities, not a New Israel, which begins at Pentecost.” Lindbeck, “The Church,” 151-152. [ Page ] 38 Spirit (Acts 2:38; Heb. 6:4), gifts given to the people of God, not merely to distinct persons. Moreover, Paul’s claim that “the gifts and calling of God are irrevocable” (Rom. 11:29) is applied to the people of Israel as a whole. These are, in a sense, “group charisms,” but not in the specific sense that concerns us here, that is, they are not gifts which differentiate between groups within the people of God. These are common gifts which are given to God’s people as a whole, and identify them as God’s people in the world. The question, therefore, must be formulated in a more specific way: are there scriptural examples of groups within the people of God (whether they be diverse local churches or other kinds of groups) which are differentiated precisely on the basis of diverse charismata?62 Oscar Cullmann proposes that there are such scriptural examples. Cullmann’s fundamental thesis in his 1984 work Unity Through Diversity is that “every Christian confession has a permanent spiritual gift, a charisma, which it should preserve, nurture, purify, and deepen, and which should not be given up for the sake of homogenization.”63 Cullmann is concerned that the frustration of some with an apparent lack of progress towards unity is based on a “false goal” of homogenization, which has no basis in the New Testament.64 The goal of unity should rather be a “union of all Christian churches within which each would preserve its valuable elements, including its structure.”65 Basing his argument on the Pauline texts that deal with the charisms, he argues that unity can exist through diversity, rather than in spite of diversity. The function of the Spirit in Pauline community is to create diversity, and yet “this does not cause ____________________________________ 62 It may seem like I am taking the question to narrowly, but I believe such precision is necessary. When separated churches or movements within the Church appeal to a charism which sets them apart from other churches or movements, they imply this kind of Spirit-led differentiation. This will become clear especially in light of the discussion of Cullmann’s arguments, below. 63 Cullmann, Unity Through Diversity, 9. 64 Ibid. 14. 65 Ibid., 15. In making this claim Cullmann argues that he is drawing upon Paul’s understanding of the Church, which is “entirely based upon this fundamental truth of the variety of charisms.” Ibid., 18. 39 fragmentation, since every member is oriented to the goal of the unity of the whole body.”66 Recognizing that Paul was not referring to churches in his discussion of charisms, Cullmann nevertheless maintains that extending the Pauline conception of charisms operating in the local community to Christian confessions is “in accord with the apostle’s meaning.”67 He makes his case by arguing that Paul ascribed “a particular mission” to each of the different churches, which can be seen as the particular church’s “charismatic commission” in connection with its local context.68 Strangely, Cullmann only references one text which he suggests applies the term charisma to a church (Rom. 1:11). Commenting on this verse, Cullmann says that Paul “obviously is thinking here of his enrichment by the special spiritual gift, the charism, which had developed in the capital of the empire.”69 However, in the text, Paul says that he longs to “impart” (metado) a charisma to the church in Rome, not that he was anticipating that he would receive this gift from the Romans, though it is true that he goes on to speak of a mutual encouragement through sharing in each other’s faith in verse 12. The context of this verse does not suggest a charism which was distinctive of the church in Rome, but a blessing which Paul was hoping they would receive from his ministry among them. 70 In any case, this verse hardly seems a secure foundation upon which to build an entire theology of ecclesial charisms.71 ___________________________________ 66 Cullmann, Unity Through Diversity, 17. 67 Ibid., 17. Among those who have referenced Cullmann’s work, Veli-Matti Kärkkainen has noted that in Cullmann’s proposal “the New Testament metaphor of the members of the body is taken out of the context of the local congregation and applied to present denominations.” Introduction to Ecclesiology: Ecumenical, Historical & Global Perspectives (Downers Grove Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2002), 81. 68 He is particularly keen to stress that the one church is present in each local church, and that this implies a charism. “This of course expresses his view that the same one church is present in Corinth: thus an expression of the Church's unity. But at the same time, it is precisely this church - located in this particular place, in connection with this situation and the problems involved in it - which has maintained its particular charismatic commission.” Cullmann, Unity Through Diversity 17 69 Ibid. 70 I have not been able to find any other commentators who read this text as referring to a charism of the Roman church nor indeed any who even consider this as a possible interpretation. 71 It is surprising that Cullmann does not spend more time on this specific question of how the diversity of charisms as expounded by Paul should applied to groups. Although in the preface he states that his first chapter will focus on the biblical material, and indeed, he titles the chapter “The Ecumenism of Unity Through Diversity According to the [ Page ] 40 As he continues with his argument, it becomes clear that Cullmann’s aim is to use the theology of charisms as a way of explaining doctrinal differences between the churches, which he describes as rooted in their particular charisms, understood as “revelations of truth.”72 This conception of charism as a revelation of truth leads Cullmann to argue that, in some cases in church history it proved necessary to for churches to separate and become autonomous bodies, “in order to preserve certain charisms in their pure form.”73 Along these lines, he identifies “concentration on the Bible” and freedom fostering openness to the world as essential Protestant charisms, alongside the universalism and institutional organization of Catholicism.74 The charisms themselves do not create divisions. Rather, it is distortions of the charisms which are to blame - for example, protestant “biblicism” or Catholic institutional triumphalism.75 What emerges from this argument is a charismatic justification for the continued separation of Christian bodies. The vitality of the charismata depends on the autonomy of various Christian confessions. Cullmann insists, however, that he is not suggesting that things should simply remain as they are between the churches. He suggests that relations between the churches should proceed on the basis of attempting to speak frankly to one another about the ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________ New Testament,” there is actually very little exegesis or biblical theology in the chapter. After a very brief discussion of Paul’s understanding of the Church, he quickly moves on to discussing the historic differences between Protestants, Catholics, and Eastern Orthodox Christians as various charisms, without answering important scriptural questions about how the Pauline concept, which he admits is applied to persons within a local church, can be extended to churches within the one universal church. See Cullmann, Unity Through Diversity, 13-33. 72 “The multiplicity of kinds of charisms corresponds to the variety and plurality of the truths proclaimed by the different churches. The spiritual gifts set forth revelations of truth (“Spirit of truth,” John 14:17; 15:26; 16:13).” Ibid., 22. This emphasis on charisms as vehicles of truth is also evident in the fact that Cullmann sees distorted charisms as occasions for heresy, rather than the Pauline focus on the danger of schism. Ibid., 18. 73 Cullmann, Unity Through Diversity, 31. I will return to this claim and other aspects of Cullmann’s argument throughout part II. 74 Ibid 20 75 Ibid., 20-22. It is interesting that Wesley Kort, while arguing for the irreducibly plural and conflictual nature of theological discourses, nevertheless finds Cullmann’s proposal inadequate, on the basis of the theologically content- less status of the federation which Cullmann is calling for, and because he recognizes that the primary emphasis of the Pauline texts in question is on unity. Wesley A. Kort, Bound to Differ: The Dynamics of Theological Discourses (University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1992), 124-125. [ Page ] 41 charism or charisms that we see in each other’s traditions.76 He also notes that the “peculiarities” and “distortions” of the charismatic gifts need to be weeded out by careful self-examination, and suggests that ecumenical dialogue should be an essential part of this examination process.77 We certainly can’t exclude the possibility that doctrinal variations between churches might prove, after careful examination, to be complementary statements of the common Christian faith. Much ecumenical dialogue and theological scholarship is built upon the assumption that current differences might be complementary, and it is certainly appropriate to use the language of “gifts” in this context. 78 I will discuss this broader ecumenical understanding of “gifts” in distinction from charisms in chapter II.4. Cullmann has made the mistake of conflating gifts of this sort with the Pauline teaching on diverse vocational charismata, as outlined above. While the lists of charismata in the scriptural texts should not be taken as exhaustive, Cullmann’s suggested “concentration on the Bible” is clearly something of a completely different category than the Pauline gifts of “pastor,” “teacher,” or “administrator.” In other words, the type of complementary “gifts” Cullmann is describing should not be labelled “charisms.” Rather, they are (at least potentially and purportedly) complementary insights into the truth of the Christian faith, which would be better compared to the diverse ways in which scripture speaks about one topic. It may be that divided communities have, in some providential way, preserved complementary insights into the gospel. However, my concern is that, in allowing such theological differences to be labelled “charisms,” Cullmann is providing a means ___________________________________ 76 Cullmann, Unity Through Diversity, 19. 77 Ibid., 16. For example, Cullmann identifies essential charisms of the Lutheran and Reformed traditions as “concentration on the Bible” and “freedom,” but notes that these are often found in their corresponding distorted form biblicism and anarchy. Ibid., 20. 78 Here Margaret O’Gara has been a key player in highlighting a “gift exchange” approach to ecumenical dialogue, and her perspective is built clearly upon Catholic magisterial teaching. See her collection of essays in The Ecumenical Gift Exchange. For a specific application of this perspective in response to criticisms of the Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification, see her essay, “The Significance of the Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification and the Next Steps in Ecumenical Dialogue,” in The Gospel of Justification in Christ: Where Does the Church Stand Today?, ed. Wayne C. Stumme (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006), 27-41. [ Page ] 42 by which real and substantial disagreements on matters of doctrine might be framed as complementary gifts of the Spirit. This has the doubly problematic effect of obscuring the disagreements themselves, and granting each respective divergent theological perspective a divine origin. Leaving this category-mistake aside, there is no certainly Pauline sense of preserving the “purity” of a charism by separating it from other charisms - in fact it is precisely the interdependence of the charisms that Paul stresses, making their separation from other charisms as inconceivable as the separation of parts of the human body. As outlined above, the charisms are portrayed as free gifts of grace which bring with them a particular vocational obligation for the good of the whole community. Over time, particular insights into the gospel may indeed arise from those who have a particular vocation, but this is not the primary focus of the biblical theology of charisms. What can be established, however, is that particular groups of Christians could be identified across the universal church or within the particular churches on the basis of various charisms. For example, the various roles listed in Paul’s lists of charisms in 1 Corinthians 12, Romans 12, and Ephesians 4, including such roles at apostles, prophets, teachers, administrators, and so on, could become a basis for identifying particular groups within the Church. Indeed, the distinction between apostles and deacons in Acts 6 would, on my reading, be made on the basis of charisms, which, when discerned by the community, become the criteria by which such persons are identified. The references to charisms in connection with Timothy’s vocation 1 and 2 Timothy be interpreted in a similar way, along with those places where the New Testament speaks of the apostles as a group (Acts 15, 1 Corinthians 9). We could also turn to the Old Testament examples of the Levitical and Aaronic priesthoods, identified above as “gifts” [ Page ] 43 according to the book of Numbers, as concrete examples within the scriptural witness of charismatically-identified groups. In each case, these groups are identified by their vocation, which is made possible on the basis of a particular personal charism. SUMMARY: BIBLICAL THEOLOGY FOR ECCLESIAL CHARISMS In summary, charisms, in the sense of diverse concrete manifestations of grace, are personal gifts, from the perspective of scripture. They are gifts given to persons within the Church, which bring with them a vocational obligation to serve for the edification of the whole community. Though charisms are personal, they are never an “individual” possession. It can truly be said that these gifts, though given to particular persons according to the sovereign will of the Spirit, are gifts which belong to the whole people of God, because they call the person to sacrificial service on behalf of the whole people of God. There is no clear biblical precedent for ascribing a diversity of charisms to particular groups of people within the larger people of God in order to use these gifts as a justification for the separated existence of those groups. If we are to extend the biblical concept of diverse charismata to ecclesial communities of various kinds, it must be done in a way that is consistent with the concept as attested in scripture. That is, the charisms in question must be vocationally directed gifts of grace that are functionally interdependent and ordered to the edification of the whole people of God. Ecclesial charisms must be interpreted, not as identity markers which separate ecclesial bodies from one another, but as gifts which bring an obligation to greater cooperation, integration, and mutual service within the one body of Christ. [ Page ] 44 CHAPTER II.2 CHARISM AND INSTITUTION The theology of charisms has been, for the most part, a twentieth century topic, which had previously received little attention in the history of mainstream, orthodox Christian theology.1 In part, this is due to reactions against various forms of “enthusiasm” which have sprung up in the Church’s history.2 Established theological traditions have not tended to develop a theology of charisms because charisms have long been understood as referring to “extraordinary” gifts only. These gifts have tended to emerge from outside the established channels of leadership and authority, and therefore they have often been perceived as a threat and marginalized, and the theology of charisms along with them.3 Thus one might say that there was no fully developed theology of charisms in the ancient Church, but that is not to say that charisms did not play a part in Christian spirituality. Indeed, though there are relatively few references to charisms in patristic literature, the idea can be found even in the writings of some ______________________________________ 1 The “eclipse” of the term in much of Christian history is discussed by Laurentin, who notes the embarrassment with which commentators confronted Paul’s discussions of extraordinary manifestations of the Spirit, given that they no longer experienced them as a regular part of the Church’s life. The topic began to be discussed again in the wake of the spiritual revivals of the middle ages, and this may have something to do with the fact that Thomas Aquinas is a notable exception to the trend of marginalizing the discussion of charisms. The experience of the Church in dealing with perceived excesses among “charismatic” movements, such as Montanism in the second century and medieval apocalyptic movements, undoubtedly contributed to the marginalization of theological discussion of charisms. Laurentin, “Charisms: Terminological Precision,” 5. On Aquinas, see below and n. 9. 2 René Laurentin, “La redécouverte de l’Esprit Saint et des charismes dans l’église actuelle,” in Esprit Saint (Brussels: Facultés Universitaires Saint-Louis, 1978), 11. 3 Stanley M. Burgess, The Spirit and the Church: Antiquity (Peabody MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 1984), 3. This tendency to marginalize is often seen as originating in a response to the excesses of the “New Prophecy” or Montanist movement in the second century. Traditional Catholic readings of Montanism treated it as either a schismatic or heretical threat to the orthodox faith. See for example, Knox’s description of Montanism as “naked fanaticism,” in Enthusiasm, 49. More recently, a survey of church history by Catholic historian Fidel Gonzalez Fernandez completely passes over Montanism and proceeds directly to monasticism as the first post-biblical “charismatic” movement. See “Charisms and Movements in the History of the Church,” in The Ecclesial Movements in the Pastoral Concern of the Bishops (Vatican City: Pontifical Council for the Laity, 2000), 79-81. On the other hand, the rise of Pentecostalism and the twentieth century charismatic renewal has led to another attempt to re-read Church history and appropriate the history Montanism as “The First Charismatic Movement” (Howard A. Snyder, Signs of the Spirit: How God Reshapes the Church (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock Publishers, 1997), 15-28. In any case, the effect of the Phrygian prophetic movement upon the history of doctrine was that no significant development took place on the doctrine of charisms in orthodox theological circles. [ Page ] 45 of the most important fathers.4 The general pattern seems to have been that charisms were identified with the extraordinary phenomena described in the Corinthian epistles (and associated with radical movements such as the Montanists), and hence a decline in the frequency of spectacular miracles was taken as evidence that charisms (understood as extraordinary gifts) were only given in the apostolic age, as a means of spurring on the growth of the nascent Church.5 Where there was significant discussion of “gifts” of the Spirit, it tended to follow the ancient tradition of the “seven-fold gifts” of Spirit, based on Isa. 11:1-2.6 These gifts, however, are considered the common privilege of all who receive the Holy Spirit, and therefore are not to be confused with charisms, which vary from person to person. Nevertheless, prior to the thirteenth century, no distinction was made between the seven-fold gifts and the Pauline idea of charisms, nor indeed between both of these types of pneumatic gifts and the virtues.7 Thomas Aquinas, building on the work of Philip the Chancellor and Albert the Great, distinguished clearly between the seven-fold gifts of the Spirit and the virtues, identifying the gifts as “those permanent dispositions” which make us ready to follow the Spirit’s leading, and are thus given _______________________________________ 4 The patristic references to charisms and spiritual gifts are well document in the following sources: Burgess, The Spirit and the Church: Antiquity; Mark J. Cartledge, Encountering the Spirit: The Charismatic Tradition (London: Darton, 2006), 33-40; Ronald Kydd, Charismatic Gifts in the Early Church (Peabody Mass.: Hendrickson Publishers, 1984); Bernard-M Maréchaux, Les Charismes De Saint-Esprit (Paris: Téqui, 1921), 93-144; Murphy, Charisms and Church Renewal, 13-23; Piepkorn, “Charisma in the New Testament and the Apostolic Fathers,” 372-375. 5 Murphy, Charisms and Church Renewal, 23. Chrysostom’s comment on 1 Corinthians 12:1 is telling: “This whole place [passage] is very obscure: but the obscurity is produced by our ignorance of the facts referred to and by their cessation, being such as then used to occur but now no longer take place.” Homily xxix, Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, First Series, ed. Philip Schaff, vol. 12 (New York: The Christian Literature Company, 1889), 168. On the argument that they were necessary for the primitive Church, see Homily vi, §4, Ibid., 12:30-31. For a more complete discussion of Chrystostom’s views on this matter, including extensive references, see Burgess, The Spirit and the Church: Antiquity, 125-126. An important counter-witness, of course, was Tertullian. For a discussion of Tertullian’s many references to charisms see Ibid. 65-68; Kydd Charismatic Gifts in the Early Church 66-70. 6 Traditionally, the seven gifts are identified as wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety, and the fear of God. See, for example, Ireneaus, Against Heresies, III.17.3, Roberts and Donaldson, Ante-Nicene Fathers, 1:445. 7 Congar, I Believe in the Holy Spirit, II: 134. For example, see Cyril’s discussion of 1 Corinthians 12 in his Catechetical Lecutures, 16.12, which moves between references to the various graces given by the Spirit to each one (prophecy, exorcism, interpretation) and virtues. Later (16.30) he discusses the seven-fold gifts as operations of the Sprit. Philip Schaff and Henry Wace, eds., Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Second Series, vol. 7 (New York: The Christian Literature Company, 1892), 118, 123. 46 so that the virtues might be practiced more practiced more perfectly.8 Charisms, on the other hand, as I have already noted, were identified as gratia gratis data (graces gratuitously given), in distinction from sanctifying grace (gratia gratum faciens). For Aquinas, the gratuitous nature of charisms means that they are distinct from sanctifying grace (gratia gratum faciens), which effects our participation in the divine nature. Charisms are given so that others can receive sanctifying grace, and are not sanctifying in and of themselves. Charisms are thus defined in a way that is completely focused on the sanctification of others, and are seen as divinely granted instruments appointed for this end.9 After Thomas, however, little theological work on the charisms took place until the late nineteenth century. The magisterial Protestant traditions generally continued the mainstream patristic trend of considering only the extraordinary charisms, and assigning to them a unique role which was limited to the apostolic period. Charisms were considered as an aspect of the miraculous, and thereby treated in a dispensationalist fashion as being no longer needed in the post-apostolic age, in light of the sufficiency of scripture as divine authority.10 The Catholic tradition did not support such a dispensationalist scheme, in part because miracles and _______________________________________ 8 Congar, I Believe in the Holy Spirit, II: 136. 9 Aquinas deals with charismatic gifts in the Summa Theologiae, 2a2ae, qq. 171-178. He presents a typology of charisms under gifts of knowledge (prophecy, qq. 171-175), gifts of speech (qq. 176-177), and gifts of action (miracles, q. 178). See Prophecy and Other Charisms, 3. His teaching is summarized in a helpful way by Enrique D. Dussel, “The Differentiation of Charisms,” in Charisms in the Church, ed by. Christian Duquoc and Casiano Floristan, Concilium 109 (New York: Seabury Press, 1978), 39. For a more extended discussion see Murphy, Charisms and Church Renewal, 63-91; and Bonino, “Charisms, Forms, and States of Life (IIa IIae, qq. 171-189).” For a summary of the theology of the gifts in the period prior to Thomas’s work, specifically the lack of precision and the poverty of patristic background which cleared the way for Thomas’s contribution, following Albert the Great and Bonaventure, see D. Odon Lottin, “Les dons du Saint-Esprit du XIIe siècle a l’époque de Saint Thomas d’Aquin,” in Psychologie et morale aue XIIe et XIIIe siècles (Louvain: Abbaye du Mont César, 1949), t. III, 329- 456; Jacques de Blic, “Pour l’histoire de la théologie des dons avant Saint Thomas,” Revue d’ascétique et de mystique 22 (1946): 117-179. 10 See Calvin’s discussion of miracles as “seals of the gospel” given in apostolic times, but now superseded in importance by purity of doctrine, in his “PreferatoryAddress to King Francis I,” in Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John T. McNeill, trans by. Ford Lewis Battles, Library of Christian Classics (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960), I: 16-18. Cf. the summary of Luther and Calvin’s views on miracle in Ephraim Radner, Spirit and Nature: The Saint- Médard Miracles in 18th-Century Jansenism (New York: Crossroad, 2002), 111-116; and his discussion of post-Reformation developments along these lines, in chapter 2 of The End of the Church: A Pneumatology of Christian Division in the West, 57-133. [ Page ] 47 extraordinary gifting have always been important part of the Catholic view of sanctity and holiness. However, for the most part, charisms were still seen exclusively as being of a miraculous character, and were thereby employed in an apologetic manner as divine proofs of the Catholic faith.11 Thus, while there were some precedents and antecedents, there is a real sense in which the twentieth century discussions concerning charisms marked a significant change in theological tradition among both Protestants and Catholics, based in part on a return to the biblical sources, and in part on the questions raised by various Pentecostal and charismatic movements, to be discussed further below.12 The renewed twentieth century interest in charisms has been shaped by the sociological contrast between “charismatic” and “institutional” authority, as classically outlined by Max Weber. Weber took the term from Lutheran lawyer Rudolph Söhm, who used it in his work on the constitution of the earliest Christian communities.13 Among Catholics the term came to _________________________________________ 11 On the post-Tridentine Catholic position, exemplified in Bellarmine, see Radner, Spirit and Nature, 166ff. For a discussion of similar uses of spectacular charisms in the nineteenth century, see Murphy, Charisms and Church Renewal, 31-35. The spectacular charisms are often associated with saints and mystics in the Catholic tradition, but have not normally been a part of scholarly literature. An exception is Christine F. Cooper-Rompato’s recent study of xenoglossia in medieval hagiographical literature, which contends that glossolalia were an important part of medieval Christian life. See he Gift of Tongues: Women’s Xenoglossia in the Later Middle Ages (University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2010). Some charismatic scholars have also made attempts to highlight this history. See, for example, Stanley M. Burgess’s trilogy, The Holy Spirit: Ancient Christian Traditions (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 1985); The Holy Spirit: Eastern Christian Traditions (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 1989); The Holy Spirit: Medieval Roman Catholic and Reformation Traditions (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 1997); and Cartledge, Encountering the Spirit: The Charismatic Tradition, 33-50. It should also be noted that there was some reflection on the problem of lack of miraculous gifts among Jesuit missionaries in 16th century Japan, and the possible reasons why God might withhold the gift of tongues. See C. R Boxer, The Christian Century in Japan, 1549-1650. (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1951), 88, 137; Adriano Prosperi, “The Missionary,” in Baroque Personae, ed. Rosario Villari, trans by. Lydia G. Cochrane (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995), 173-174; Josef Franz Schütte, Valignano’s Mission Principles for Japan, Vol. 1:from His Appointment as Visitor Until His First Departure from Japan (1573-1582). (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources 1980) 174 301. 12 See above, n. 1. 13 Weber did not apply the term only in an ecclesiastical context, but his use of the term was dependent upon Rudolph Söhm’s investigation of authority structures in the primitive church, to be discussed below. Peter Haley, “Rudolph Söhm on Charisma,” The Journal of Religion 60, no. 2 (April 1980): 185-186; Laurentin, “Charisms: Terminological Precision,” 4. Of Söhm, Weber writes, “It is to his credit that Rudolph Söhm brought out the [ Page ] 48 prominence at Vatican II, and Catholic theology began to seriously investigate the place of charisms in the life of the Church. 14 This development can be seen as a reclaiming of the charismatic dimension of the Church by Catholic ecclesiology, which is often characterized as leaning heavily on institutional categories in the early modern period, leading up to Vatican II.15 On the other hand, early 20th century Protestant theology, rooted the legacy of Söhm, leaned in the other direction, presupposing an opposition between institution and charism, in which the Church’s institutions were seen as a compromise and fall from the Church’s primitive state. Around the time of Vatican II, however, ecumenically-minded Protestants began to move towards a more balanced approach, reclaiming the essential institutionality of the Church, thus leading to a certain degree of convergence on this topic among Catholics and Protestants.16 ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________ sociological peculiarity of this category of domination-structure for a historically important special case, namely, the historical development of the authority of the early Christian church. Söhm performed this task with logical consistency, and hence, by necessity, he was one-sided from a purely historical point of view. In principle, however, the very same state of affairs recurs universally, although often it is most clearly developed in the field of religion.” Max Weber, Max Weber on Charisma and Institution Building, ed. S. L. Eisenstadt (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1968), 19. 14 At Vatican II, a debate arose as to whether charisms were gifts given to every Christian, or only spectacular gifts given in the apostolic age and to exceptional saints. Cardinal Suenens was able to sway the council fathers toward endorsing the view that charisms are a regular and enduring aspect of Christian life. See Léon Joseph Suenens, “The Charismatic Dimension of the Church,” in Council Speeches of Vatican II, ed. Hans Küng, Yves Congar, and Daniel O’Hanlon (New York: Paulist Press, 1964), 29-34. A summary of the debate is found in Murphy, Charisms and Church Renewal, 94-115. The result was that the term charism was used fourteen times throughout the council documents. Originally the theology of charisms was used only in relation to individuals in the Church, but over time, the concept was expanded to the various forms of religious life. 15 See, for example, Karl Rahner, “Observations on the Factor of the Charismatic in the Church,” in Theological Investigations trans by. David Bourke vol. XII (New York: Seabury Press 1974) 81-82. 16 Avery Dulles notes this two sided movement - a reclaiming of the value of institutions on the part of Protestants, and a renewed emphasis on charisms among Catholics. See “Earthen Vessels: Institution and Charism in the Church,” in Above Every Name: The Lordship of Christ and Social Systems, ed. Thomas E. Clarke (Ramsey, NJ: Paulist Press, 1980), 162. A key indication of this emerging consensus on the protestant side is found in some important work on this topic that was done in the 1960s, under the auspices of a special commission on institutionalism set up by the World Council of Churches. The fruits of their work can be found in the interim report issued by the Commission on Faith and Order, “Institutionalism and Church Unity,” in The Old and the New in the Church (Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1961), 52-91. the final report, issued in Montreal, The Report of the Study Commission on Institutionalism, Faith and Order Paper No. 37 (Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1963). and the collection of papers by commission members, edited by Nils Ehrenstrom and Walter G. Muelder, eds., Institutionalism and Church Unity: A Symposium Prepared by the Study Commission on Institutionalism, Commission on Faith and Order, World Council of Churches (New York: Association Press, 1963). An early update on their work noted their efforts to overcome the earlier Protestant bias: ““Institutionalism” is sometimes interpreted in a pejorative sense, suggesting a perversion of the true function of institution; and to obviate this it has been expressly stated that the Commission intends to use the term in an ambivalent sense, including both good and [ Page ] 49 Nevertheless, the issue of the relationship between institution and charism in the Church remains a difficult one. In this chapter I will review the literature on this question by proposing a five-fold typology of the prevailing views on the relationship between charism and institution, before presenting my own proposal. A theology of ecclesial charisms must account for the tension which exists between established church structures and new movements of renewal and reform, without simplistically aligning one side with “institution” and the other with “charism.” Based on an understanding of institutions as stable patterns of social interaction, I argue that the Church is essentially institutional, and that this institutionality extends to all ecclesial bodies. Movements of reform and renewal aren’t merely “charismatic movements,” but are institutions in their own right. At the same time, ecclesial institutions are means of grace, and therefore must also be charismatic institutions, not in the sense that the institutions are charisms, but that they are stable patterns of social interaction through which charisms are received, discerned, exercised, and cultivated. Therefore, conflict between reform and renewal movements and established churches cannot be explained by virtue of a supposed fundamental opposition between institution and charism in the Church. The tension that exists might be better understood as a tension between different types of ecclesial institutions, both of which are charismatic. This means that no renewal and reform movement can use a claim to possess a __________________________________________________________________________________________________________ bad features of institutional life.” World Council of Churches, “The Issues of Institutionalism,” Division of Studies Bulletin: Special Issue on Institutionalism VI, no. 1 (1960): 5. Other evidence of a protestant reclamation of the institutionality of the Church can be seen in the work of individual protestant theologians in the mid 20th century, such as Robert Lee’s The Social Sources of Church Unity: An Interpretation of Unitive Movements in American Protestantism (New York: Abingdon Press, 1960). and James Gustafson’s Treasure in Earthen Vessels: The Church as a Human Community (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1961). These positive appropriations of the Church as institution can be seen in contrast to earlier work on Christian unity which tended to focus on the divisive aspects of ecclesial institutions (see for example, Willard Learoyd Sperry, ed., The Non-Theological Factors in the Making and Unmaking of Church Union (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1937); Gerald R. Cragg, C. H. Dodd, and Jacques. Ellul, Social and Cultural Factors in Church Divisions (New York: World Council of Churches, 1952); H. Richard Niebuhr, The Social Sources of Denominationalism (New York: Meridian Books, 1957).). [ Page ] 50 charism as reason for separation and autonomy, and charisms cannot be used as a justification for continued separation among churches. INSTITUTION AND CHARISM: A TYPOLOGY OF VIEWS Charismatic opposed to institutional As noted above, Rudolph Söhm was responsible for bringing the discussion of charisms into modern scholarship, with his investigation into the constitution of the earliest Christian communities.17 Söhm argued against the prevailing “voluntary association” consensus among Protestant scholars in the 1880s, positing instead that the earliest Christians viewed their communities as drawn together and constituted by the charisms of the Spirit. Therefore, he argued, they understood the Church to be a spiritual entity which was beyond all human law.18 Leadership of the community was provided by charismatically gifted persons (preachers, teachers, and bishops), and was not formalized into offices. In Söhm’s view, such formalization of charismatic authority into offices came later as a failure and a retreat from the original organization of the Church.19 Söhm’s interpretation of the early church had a profound influence in the early twentieth century, though it was not blindly accepted. Weber took up Söhm’s analysis and extended it beyond the Christian church to all forms of social life, presenting a very ____________________________________ 17 Rudolf Söhm, Kirchenrecht (Berlin: Duncker & Humblot, 1892). Söhm was a lawyer, and the original reason for his investigation of primitive Christianity was occasioned by a dispute with fellow jurists regarding the status of civil law in Christian marriage ceremonies. This set him on the path of researching the history of canon law, and the necessary corollary discipline of church history. Haley, “Rudolph Söhm on Charisma,” 186-187. 18 The contrast here is between the Church constituted by the consent of the members in a democratic “free association” sense (this was the standard Protestant consensus, supported, for example, by Albrect Ritschl and F. C. Baur), and the Church as constituted by the charismatic action of the Spirit. Enrique Nardoni, “Charism in the Early Church Since Rudolph Söhm: An Ecumenical Challenge,” Theological Studies 53, no. 4 (1992): 647; James D. G. Dunn, “Introduction,” in The Cambridge Companion to St. Paul, ed. James D. G. Dunn (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 3-5; Carsten Claussen, “The Structure of the Pauline Churches: Charisma and Office” (Th.M. Thesis, Durham, UK: Durham University, 1991), 13-14. 19 Ibid.: 648. Leonardo Boff characterizes Söhm’s view by saying “Faith in the Gospel gave way to faith in divine law.” Boff, Church, Charism and Power, 68. [ Page ] 51 sharp distinction between charismatic and institutional forms of authority.20 Harnack agreed that the primitive church was charismatic, but proposed that there had originally been non- charismatic leadership which existed simultaneously alongside the charismatic leaders, rather than as a later development. He identified the charismatic leaders with itinerant preachers and prophets who exercised a universal ministry, and suggested that local leaders - presbyters, bishops, and deacons - exercised their ministry on the basis of a different kind of charism, one which was not of the extraordinary variety as found among prophets.21 In the final analysis, Harnack followed the same line of thinking as Söhm in proposing that the institutional leadership eventually overtook and excluded the charismatic leadership, thus pushing aside the originally charismatic element in the Church.22 While this type of perspective on institution and charism continues to circulate at a popular level, it is difficult to find any significant theological work which continues to oppose institution and charism in principle.23 Vestiges of this view can be seen in the “restorationist” impulse that is present in some evangelical traditions, especially among Pentecostals, who have resisted the label “denomination,” in part, because they were ____________________________________ 20 Consider, for example, the following discussion of charisma: “In contrast to any kind of bureaucratic organization of offices, the charismatic structure knows nothing of a form or of an ordered procedure of appointment or dismissal...It knows no agency of control or appeal, no local bailiwicks or exclusive functional jurisdictions; nor does it embrace permanent institutions like our bureaucratic ‘departments,’ which are independent of persons and of purely personal charisma. Charisma knows only inner determination and inner restraint.” Weber, Max Weber on Charisma and Institution Building, 19-20. 21 Adolf von Harnack, The Constitution and Law of the Church in the First Two Centuries, ed. H. D. A. Major, trans by. F. L. Pogson (London: Williams & Norgate, 1910), 241-242. However, according to Harnack, these local authorities existed in varying combinations and permutations. See Nardoni, “Charism in the Early Church Since Rudolph Söhm,” 648-649. 22 This is evident in Harnack’s definition of “Catholicism” as the point in the Church’s development when “the apostles prophets, and charismatic lay teachers ceased and their place was taken by the norm of the apostolic doctrine, the norm of the apostolic canon of Scripture, and subjection to the authority of the apostolic episcopal office.” Harnack, The Constitution and Law, 245; Nardoni, “Charism in the Early Church Since Rudolph Söhm,” 648-649. As is well known, Harnack saw the features of Catholicism as he defined it as “foreshadowed as early as the first century and in the writings of the New Testament,” but maintained that “the Catholic elements did not constitute the essence of primitive Christianity,” and maintained that “Catholicism” did not really take hold until the beginning of the third century. Harnack, The Constitution and Law, 253 and n.1. 23 Even mainstream Pentecostal theology, where one might expect to find such affirmations, has moved beyond an oppositional perspective, as seen in the reports of the Catholic-Pentecostal dialogue. See the overview in Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen, “Church as Charismatic Fellowship: Ecclesiological Reflections from the Pentecostal-Roman Catholic Dialogue,” Journal of Pentecostal Theology 18 (2001): 100-121. [ Page ] 52 attempting to avoid what they believed to be the corruption of “institutional” denominations.24 Charismatic more fundamental than institutional This oppositional perspective has been maintained in a more moderate form by those who accept the inevitability of institutional structures, but view them as purely functional and subordinate to charisms. Gotthold Hasenhüttl takes up much of Söhm’s argument, suggesting that the institutional church is a completely human product, which tends toward domination, and does not reflect the original structure, in which charisms were the determining and essential factor.25 The Church, viewed from a sociological perspective, “has a certain relation to institutional elements,” but these institutional elements are not the “essence” of the Church.26 The Church of the future ought to seek to transform its institutions in order to institutionalize freedom from domination.27 Hans K ng draws upon Hasenhüttl’s work, and likewise argues that ecclesial institutions are functional, and ought to remain flexible and adaptable over time.28 Küng supports the idea that the Pauline church was originally charismatic in structure,29 and speaks of a “decline into institutional ministry” which “cannot be claimed as normative for the _________________________________ 24 See Wolfgang Vondy, “Pentecostal Ecclesiology: A Historical and Theological Contribution,” in Denomination Assessing an Ecclesiological Category, Ecclesiological Investigations 11 (London: T & T Clark, 2011), 100-116. 25 Hasenhüttl claims that institutional authority “exercises domination,” and is a completely human product, with no foundation in the ministry of Jesus. Gotthold Hasenhüttl, “The Church as Institution,” in The Church as Institution, Concilium: Religion in the Seventies (New York: Herder and Herder, 1974), 15, 17. His more detailed treatment is found in Charisma: Ordnungsprinzip der Kirche (Freiburg: Herder 1969). 26 Hasenhüttl, “The Church as Institution,” 18. 27 Ibid., 18-21. His suggestion is to establish a congregation which would ensure that all the hierarchy’s actions were grounded in love: “It would be above the pope, and keep a constant watch on his doctrinal statements and proposals for action. The congregation would have the task of seeing that nothing was done by the hierarchy which conflicted with love.” Ibid. 20. 28 For Küng this is rooted in what he sees in the Pauline communities, which he believes “set up whatever ministries of order and leadership seemed necessary for their congregational life.” Hans K ng, On Being a Christian, trans by. Edward Quinn (Glasgow: Collins, 1974), 489 (emphasis in original). From this, and based on the fact that he sees a multiplicity of options for church order in the New Testament, K ng concludes that “The concrete organization of the Church’s ministries must be functional in regard to each new situation and therefore flexible.” Ibid., 493 (emphasis in original). 29 Kung, The Church, 236-250; Kung, “The Charismatic Structure of the Church”; Kung, On Being a Christian, 484-494. [ Page ] 53 evolution of official structures in the Church.”30 Leonardo Boff’s approach differs slightly from that of Hasenhüttl and Küng in that he is willing to speak of hierarchical charisms. Boff views the institutionalization of the Church as a “failure” in a sense,31 however his solution is to prioritize the charismatic over the institutional, not to oppose the two.32 Charism becomes the “organizing principle”33 of the Church’s institutions, with an emphasis on the participation of the whole people of God, all of whom are given charismatic gifts. The Spirit is made manifest in the Church through the diverse charisms, given for diverse services and functions, but all are oriented toward the good of the Church and working together for unity. The role of leadership in the community, then, is to take “responsibility for harmony among the many and diverse charisms.”34 However, Boff argues that leadership structures in the West have tended to be characterized by “complete domination” in which the hierarchy “considers itself to be the only charism,” a situation in which the charismatic gifts of the Spirit will indeed be perceived as a threat to those in leadership.35 In ecumenical literature, I would identify the Pentecostal side of the Roman Catholic-Pentecostal dialogue as reflecting a similar perspective - recognizing the need for structure, but subordinating and relativizing ecclesial institutions to charismatic activity.36 ________________________________ 30 Küng On Being a Christian, 492 31 “A christological emphasis on the level of the incarnation led the Latin Church to excessive institutional rigidity.” Boff, Church, Charism and Power, 154. 32 “Charism includes the hierarchical element, but not exclusively. Charism is more fundamental than the institution. Charism is the pneumatic force (dynamis tou Theou) that gives rise to institutions and keeps them alive.” Ibid., 159. Charisms, in Boff’s view, include both the “routine as well as the extraordinary.” Ibid., 158. 33 So, for example, “one must say, as Vatican II did not, that collegiality involves not only the bishops and priests but also the laity.” Boff, Church, Charism and Power, 155. 34 Ibid., 163. 35 Ibid., 157. 36 See “Final Report II: Dialogue between the Secretariat for Promoting Chrisitan Unity and Some Classical Pentecostals,” in Growth in Agreement II: Reports and Agreed Statements of Ecumenical Conversations on a World Level, 1982-1998 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), §§83-84, 90, pp. 732-733; “Perspectives on Koinonia: Report from the Third Quinquenium of the Dialogue between the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity and Some Classical Pentecostal Churches and Leaders,” in Growth in Agreement II: Reports and Agreed Statements of [ Page ] 54 Hans von Campenhausen provides a variation on the thesis of Harnack, by identifying the non-charismatic leadership with Jewish Christianity and the charismatic leadership with the Pauline communities.37 The two models were later merged, and the Church’s error, in Campenhausen’s reading of primitive church history, was the investment of the offices with sacred significance, a move which, in effect, led to the exclusion of charisms.38 However, his normative argument is similar to that of Boff. While Campenhausen accepts a very strong contrast between the primitive Pauline communities and any kind of “official” authority, in the end he does not prioritize this proposed vision of Pauline Christianity as normative, but views the answer as being found in a correlation between Spirit and Word, rooted in Christ himself.39 However, he shares with Boff a reading of the Church’s history which sees a primitive charismatic Christianity squeezed out by an emerging “catholicism,” conceived of pejoratively.40 Charisms as a reason for continued separate institutions Oscar Cullmann’s thesis in Unity Through Diversity was already discussed in chapter I I.1, and so I will not rehearse it again in detail. He does not see charism and institution as being in opposition to one another, but rather sees the institutional structures of the various Christian _______________________________________________________________________________________________________ Ecumenical Conversations on a World Level, 1982-1998 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), §§84, 85, 87,88, pp. 747-748 . 37 See chapters two to four in Hans von Campenhausen, Ecclesiastical Authority and Spiritual Power in the Church of the First Three Centuries (London: A & C. Black 1969) 12—75 38 This was done, in Campenhausen’s reading, through the introduction of the office of elder, which was invested with spiritual significance because of an association between elders and the passing on of Christian tradition. Cf. Ibid., 79ff, 149, 297. Nardoni, “Charism in the Early Church Since Rudolph Söhm,” 650. 39 “It is no use adopting office and charisma, or Spirit and Law, directly as the ultimate realities of the Church, which can then be used as the basis for a systematic treatment of the problem of the true exercise of authority. Instead the crucial factor is the firm correlation in which from the very first the ‘Spirit’ stands to the concept of the ‘Word’ or ‘testimony’, both of which go back to the person of Jesus himself. These are the determinative realities, and between them make it equally impossible either to give Spirit absolute value over tradition or tradition over the Spirit.” Campenhausen, Ecclesiastical Authority and Spiritual Power, 294. 40 One the one hand, Campenhausen proposes that institution and charism are both fundamental and necessary. On the other hand, however, he claims that, in the actual history of the Church, institution and charism have been opposed, noting that “the path of the Early Church” tends “from primitive Christianity to ‘catholicism,’” by which he means an “authoritarian” distortion of the relationship. Ibid., 295. [ Page ] 55 confessions as serving to safeguard and preserve each particular confession’s charism. The distinctive confessional institutions which have arisen have been, in some cases, necessary in order for certain charisms to be preserved in their “pure form.”41 In that sense, there is a priority of charism over institution, in that the institutional structures of each church are conceived of as following from that confession’s charism, and serve to protect the charism against distortion.42 In his vision for ecumenical structures of unity, Cullmann maintains a similar principle, arguing for a “loose superstructure” which would respect the diversity of charisms present among the churches which it unites.43 These historic separations, therefore, are not sinful in and of themselves. Indeed, they are interpreted as a response to the Spirit’s particular gifting of a part of the Church in response to the needs of a particular time and place.44 The sinful element in the divisions is found in the fact that the separations have been hostile, rather than peaceful.45 Charism takes a leading role, then, according to Cullmann, in both providing the original impetus for the establishment of particular (separate) institutional structures, and in providing the criteria with which those structures can be evaluated - their safeguarding of the confessional charismata. In this sense, Cullmann’s perspective bears some resemblance to the views of Hasenhüttl, K ng, and Boff, in that the charismatic element of the Church is served by the institutional. __________________________________ 41 Cullmann, Unity Through Diversity, 31. 42 “In the New Testament, the spiritual gifts generate ministries within the Church. The churches, including most Protestant churches, thus possess a structure corresponding to their own distinctive features.” Ibid., 43. 43 Ibid. André de Halleux suggests that Cullmann’s book would have been better titled “Unity in Diversity,” because he is, in effect, arguing for the peaceful maintenance of separation, rather than reconciliation in unity. “L’unité par la diversité selon Oscar Cullmann ” Revue théologique de Louvain 22 (1991): 514. 44 G. R. Evans raises an interesting question about this aspect of Cullmann’s argument - what would he make of those late medieval and renaissance fore-runners of the reformation, who clearly exhibited some of the same “charisms” as the reformers (the Waldensians, Hus, Wycliffe), but whose charism did not receive lasting institutional support? I suspect that Cullmann might have had an answer, but in print he limits his arguments to the churches of the reformation. Cf. G. R. Evans, The Church and the Churches: Toward an Ecumenical Ecclesiology (New York: Cambridge University Press 1994) 172. 45 Cullmann, Unity Through Diversity, 31. [ Page ] 56 Charismatic and Institutional as complementary Another approach to this question proposes that the charismatic and the institutional aspects of the Church should be taken as complementary. In relation to the discussion of the constitution of the primitive Christian communities, Leonhard Goppelt was a particularly influential representative of this perspective, arguing that both charismatic gifts and offices were constitutive of the Church from the very beginning, strengthening his case by arguing that offices were both instituted by Christ and a functional necessity for the Church as a historical reality.46 The teaching on charisms in the documents of Vatican II presents a similar attempt at stressing the complementarity of the institutional and charismatic, speaking of the “hierarchic and charismatic” gifts through which the Spirit directs and equips the Church.47 A fundamental harmony between the charismatic and hierarchical gifts is presupposed here, in which the hierarchy submits to the working of the Spirit by endorsing and approving of those endowed with charismatic gifts.48 Shortly after the council, Gabriel Murphy, a Roman Catholic brother, completed a study of the theology of charisms, which included a chapter summarizing the use of the term at Vatican II.49 His summary of Lumen Gentium’s teaching on charisms stresses how the Church is aided by “two forms of assistance,” hierarchical and charismatic gifts, both of ___________________________________ 46 Leonhard Goppelt, Apostolic and Post-Apostolic Times (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1977). Nardoni, “Charism in the Early Church Since Rudolph Söhm,” 651-653. 47 Lumen Gentium, §4, in Austin P. Flannery, ed., The Documents of Vatican II: The Conciliar and Post Conciliar Documents, New Revised Edition. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1975), 352. See also the important encyclical of Pius XII, Mystici Corporis, which laid some important groundwork on this subject: “There can, then, be no real opposition or conflict between the invisible mission of the Holy spirit and the juridical commission of Ruler and Teacher received from Christ, since they mutually complement and perfect each other...” Pius XII, Mystici Corporis Christi (New York: Paulist Press 1943) §65 p. 22. 48 See especially §45 of Lumen Gentium, which deals with the way in which the hierarchy approves the rules of new religious movements. Flannery, The Documents of Vatican II, 405. The complementarity of charism and institution, in this case, implies both that those in authority accept the Spirit’s work through the charismatic movements, and that the movements themselves accept that the hierarchy is also charismatically based. Murphy argues that this is what the sixteenth century Protestant reformers rejected - the charismatic nature of the hierarchy. Murphy, Charisms and Church Renewal, 30-31, 125. 49 Murphy, Charisms and Church Renewal, 93-140. [ Page ] 57 which come from the Spirit.50 The two kinds of gifts cannot be essentially divided or separated, but should rather be conceived of as “overlapping” and permeating each other.51 The charisms then, far from being a minor aspect of ecclesiology, are “a structural element in the Church,” granted to all the faithful, and bringing about renewal.52 A variation on this position attempts to fuse charism and institution via an argument concerning the sacramentality of the Church. Joseph Ratzinger53 rejects the institutional- charismatic discussion as completely unhelpful in attempting to understand and explain the place of ecclesial movements. This is based not on an objection to the theology of charisms but on his argument that the Church’s official ministry is based fundamentally on the sacrament of orders, and by its very nature transcends the sociological category of “institution.”54 The Church itself, then, including its enduring historical structures of ministry, is characterized as a charismatic entity, an “irruption of something else,” which is “intrinsically iuris divini.”55 He prefers therefore to discuss “movements” in the Church under the category of the Church’s universal apostolicity.56 Like Ratzinger, Hans Urs von Balthasar is wary of the category “institution” and ___________________________________ 50 Ibid., 123. 51 “As we have seen, there is not and cannot be an essential division or separation between these two aspects. There is rather an overlapping or permeation of one by the other.” Ibid., 125. 52 Ibid., 142. 53 I will refer to Pope Benedict XVI as Joseph Ratzinger when referencing texts he wrote before he became Pope. 54 “But this “ministry” is a “sacrament,” and hence clearly transcends the usual sociological understanding of institutions.” Joseph Ratzinger, “The Ecclesial Movements: A Theological Reflection on Their Place in the Church,” in Movements in the Church: Proceedings of the World Congress of the Ecclesial Movements, Rome, 27-29 May, 1998, Laity Today (Vatican City: Vatican Press, 1999), 25. To speak of the Church’s ministry as an institution implies, in Ratzinger’s view, that ministry is something which the Church “can dispose of herself” and “can be determined of her own imitative,” views which are clearly inadequate in light of the ministry’s sacramental character. His central point is that “this ministry cannot be produced by the institution, but can only be invoked in prayer from God.” Ibid., 26. 55 Ratzinger, “The Ecclesial Movements,” 27. While Ratzinger does allow that there are institutional elements in th Church which exist of purely human right, but he will not allow that the Church’s ministry is one of these, and thus he rejects an approach to the question of movements in the Church by way of an opposition between charism and institution. 56 Ratzinger is arguing that apostolicity has always had two aspects, the local and the universal, with the unpredictable reform movements identified as part of the Church’s universal apostolic mission. For Ratzinger this begins with the primitive Church, which had both local ministers and itinerant preachers. He thus roughly follows Harnack’s interpretation of early Church structure here, arguing that in the second century the local apostolic [ Page ] 58 seeks to transcend sociological categories by stressing the sacramental character of the Church.57 Because the Church extends Christ’s presence in the world sacramentally, its “vocation and mission are not primarily an intramundane, sociologically ascertainable process (though at a secondary level it may evince such aspects), but a eucharistic process involved in the law of Christ’s life - which is given to be shared out.”58 This sacramental approach succeeds in overcoming the opposition between charism and institution, but by fusing the two so closely together, risks obscuring the distinction between the two. Charismatic in legitimate tension with institutional Karl Rahner provides a perspective on this question which recognizes the tension that exists between the charismatic and institutional aspects of the Church, without prioritizing the charismatic as more fundamental. In The Dynamic Element in the Church, Rahner attempts to overcome the opposition between “charism” and “office” by reframing the question in terms of “the charisma of office” and “non-institutional charismata.”59 The charisma of office must be affirmed, Rahner argues, if the Church is to be conceived as the one abiding historical entity which has its foundation in the apostles, and continues to be “always the locus and visible manifestation of grace” by virtue of God’s promise.60 The Church must be conceived of as ________________________________________________________________________________________________ ministries came to dominate the universal, though Ratzinger believes this was a necessary development. However, the “universal” apostolicity of the Church has continually been present in various movements, such as monasticism, the mendicant orders, and the clerical and apostolic movements which emerged in the post-Reformation period. Ibid., 33-47. Ratzinger’s perspective is thus similar to Rahner’s (to be discussed below), in that he insists on the charismatic nature of the Church’s ministry, but Rahner is more willing to grant the tension between what he calls the two structures of the Church, and continues to view “institution” as a helpful category, so long as it is clear that the Church’s institutions are charismatic. Ratzinger, on the other hand, essentially fuses institution and charism into one category, blurring what I think is a helpful distinction made by Rahner. 57 For Balthasar the Church is both the “goal and result of Christ’s self-surrender” and the “means whereby Christ’s body extends it eucharistic influence over the world.” Hans Urs von Balthasar, Truth is Symphonic: Aspects of Christian Pluralism trans by. Graham S. Harrison (San Francisco: Ignatius Press 1987) 95. 58 Ibid., 95-96. 59 Rahner, The Dynamic Element in the Church, 42-58. See also “Observations on the Factor of the Charismatic in the Church ” 86-87. 60 Rahner, The Dynamic Element in the Church, 43. [ Page ] 59 charismatic, otherwise the Catholic affirmation of the Church’s visible continuity would be based on the juridical power of the institutions themselves.61 For example, Papal infallibility must imply that, “in order to be what it is,” the papacy “passes into the charismatic sphere.”62 However, in order to distinguish itself from totalitarianism, the Roman Catholic Church must affirm that the hierarchy is not the only vehicle through which the Spirit works, but that “there are charismata, that is, the impulsion and guidance of God’s Spirit for the Church, in addition to and outside her official ministry.”63 Rahner posits that “a legitimate opposition of forces” arises as an unavoidable result of the “multiplicity of impulsions in the Church.”64 That is, these forces are felt and experienced by human beings on earth as disparate and opposed to one another, “precisely because they are unified by God alone.”65 What is required for visible unity in the present church is “the love which allows another to be different, even when it does not understand him.”66 Rahner connects his perspective to the question of ecclesial charisms by speaking of reform movements in terms of “the possibility of institutional regulation of a gift of the Spirit.”67 Movements such as the Franciscans are examples of the “institutionally organized transmission and canalization” of the gift of their founder.68 In this way the charismatic element in the Church ______________________________________________ 61 Ibid., 43-44. 62 Ibid., 45. 63 Ibid., 49. 64 Ibid. 73. 65 Ibid., 74. This means that there will be conflict and tension in the Church, with both sides needing to be “protected” from the other: “Now it is no doubt a rule, a normative principle and a law for the spiritual gifts themselves, that they should operate in an “orderly” way, that they are not permitted to depart from the order prescribed by authority.. .Yet this formal rule alone would not of itself guarantee the actual existence of harmony. For although official authority might be sufficiently protected by the rule from merely apparent spiritual gifts, the charismata also need to be protected from the authorities.” Ibid., 52. 66 Rahner, The Dynamic Element in the Church, 74. 67 Ibid., 58. 68 Ibid., 59. “Not only Francis but the Franciscans too are charismatics if they really live in a spirit of joyous poverty. What would Francis mean to the Church if he had not found disciples throughout the centuries? He would not be the man of charismatic gifts in the sense we have in mind here, but a religious individual, an unfortunate crank, and the world, the Church and history would have dropped him and proceeded with their business.” Ibid. [ Page ] 60 is passed on through institutional means, which are courageously received and approved by the Church, as the charismatic movement in question submits to her authority and law. This aspect of “regulation” of the Spirit is, for Rahner, an essential part of the reform movement’s vocation, in which the charismatic element of the Church shows that it truly belongs to the Church and its ministry.69 This question of “movements” and charisms is discussed by numerous other sources, Catholic and Protestant, and will be taken up again in chapter II.3. Assessment My constructive proposal concerning the relationship between charism and institution (found below) will build upon aspects of the final two perspectives presented in this survey, in the hopes of presenting a view of charism and institution which distinguishes the two without opposing them to one another. The oppositional perspective of early twentieth century Protestant liberalism obviously prioritizes the charismatic over the institutional, as do the perspectives which make charism more fundamental than institution. In so doing, they undermine the essential institutionality of the Church. The complementarian perspective has the benefit of affirming that the Church is essentially institutional and charismatic, but it runs the risk of blurring the distinction between charism and institution and therefore runs the risk of divinizing the Church’s institutions (particularly in the sacramental treatments of Ratzinger and Balthasar). It is true that ecclesial institutions have a sacramental character, but we must be sure to distinguish between the gifts of grace and the institutional means through which they are delivered. Reinforcing this distinction, and bringing in Lindbeck’s insights regarding the Israelite character of the Church will help to guard against a creeping triumphalism inherent in _______________________________________ 69 Speaking of submission to the Church’s regulation, Rahner writes, “It is precisely here that it is clear that the charismatic element belongs to the Church and to her very ministry as such.” Rahner, The Dynamic Element in the Church, 59. [ Page ] 61 this perspective. The perspective of Rahner shares many basic features with the account which will present below. However, his term “non-institutional charismata” is problematic in my vie as it rests upon an overly narrow definition of “institution,” which reinforces the presumption that reform movements are somehow non-institutional. The “legitimate tension” which Rahner proposes is a reality in the life of the Church, but it does not reflect a tension between “institutional” and “non-institutional” charismata, but rather between different types of institutions within the Church, both of which are necessarily charismatic, if they are indeed ecclesial. WHAT IS AN INSTITUTION? A difficulty that presents itself in this discussion of the relationship between charism and institution in the Church is that there is no agreed-upon definition of “institution,” either in sociological or theological discourse. The literature on charisms reflects this challenge, with differing understandings of “institution” evident among the various perspectives I have been discussing thus far. In fact, much of the literature uses the terms “institution” and “institutionalization” without offering any definition whatsoever.70 In my understanding, an institution is simply a stable pattern of social interaction, and is best conceived as existing on a continuum which includes everything from a recurring encounter between two persons to a large organization such as the United Nations.71 Institutions need not be “formal” organizations with explicitly stated objectives, rules, and officers, though such _____________________________________ 70 For example, the influential work of Rahner, Suenens, and Sullivan on this subject all proceeds upon an assumed understanding of institution. See Rahner, The Dynamic Element in the Church; Suenens, A New Pentecost?; Sullivan, Charisms and Charismatic Renewal. 71 My understanding of social institutions is influenced by the account given in Miroslav Volf, After Our Likeness: The Church as the Image of the Trinity (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998), 234-245. Volf, in turn, draws upon Peter L. Berger and Thomas. Luckmann, The Social Construction of Reality: A Treatise in the Sociology of Knowledge (Garden City: Anchor Books, 1967), 47-67. It also bears resemblance to the definition provided by James Gustafson: “An institution is a relatively persistent pattern of action or relationships in human society.” Treasure in Earthen Vessels, 30. [ Page ] 62 organizations certainly are institutions. Definitions which include such features as essential to an institution betray a modern individualist understanding of the person, which views institutions primarily through the lenses of “power” and “control.”72 Such overly formalized understandings of institutions also give support to the idea that “charismatic” movements are not institutions, because of their often informal structures of authority, and therefore contribute to an overly oppositional perspective on the relationship between charism and institution, and between reform movements and established church structures. Without discounting the significant potential for coercion that exists in many institutions, I would prefer to describe the relationship between person and institution as “formative,” meaning that institutional patterns shape human behaviour, though this is not necessarily achieved through coercion. Institution and person exist in a dialectical relationship, in which personal action is shaped by and shapes the institution in a continual process.73 Further, while institutions can be said to have an “objective” character, this should not be taken to mean that institutions exist independently of the persons who act within their structures. That is, they do not necessarily act “over and against” the person, though the institution’s objectivity means that the person does indeed interact with others within a pattern of __________________________________ 72 For example, Hasenhüttl defines institutions as follows: “An institution is a changeable, but permanent, product of purposive social role behaviour which subjects the individual to obligations, gives him formal authority and possesses legal sanctions.” Hasenhüttl, “The Church as Institution,” 15. He goes on to describe institutions as “instruments of power,” and calls upon the Church to reinvent itself and work towards “the institutionalization of freedom [from] domination (an-archy).” Ibid., 17-18. In Boff, this translates to a playing off of “the institution” versus “the community,” arguing that the former must serve the latter. See Church, Charism and Power, 48. Cf. Frederick A. Shippey, “Institution and Church in the North American Situation,” in Institutionalism and Church Unity, ed. Nils Ehrenstrom and Walter G. Muelder (New York: Association Press, 1963), 61. 73 Berger and Luckmann describe this in terms of a threefold process of externalization, objectification, and internalization, summarized in the three respective statements, “Society is a human product. Society is an objective reality. Man is a social product.” Berger and Luckmann, The Social Construction of Reality, 61. Their assumption that the social world is a completely human product (that is, by implication, that there is no divine agency involved in social processes, symbols, practices, etc.), can be bracketed out for the purposes of this project as an atheological bias. However, the descriptive core of his analysis remains, and can be adopted from a theological perspective. That is to say, the Church, as institution, arises because of human activity (in response to the Spirit, but observable to all as human activity), which, over time as the Church persists in history, becomes externalized and objectified in relation to the individual actors, and then is received back by persons in the Church as their own way of thinking and living in the world. [ Page ] 63 relationships that has an existence outside of themselves, and confronts them with certain expected patterns and forms of behaviour, even as their own actions contribute to the ongoing shape of the institutions with which they interact.74 The human character of the Church means that it exists in history as a concrete community, and is therefore necessarily institutional. The Church’s existence as a communion of persons is not threatened by institutions per se, because the stable personal relationships that exist between persons in the Church are themselves institutional.75 There are no human actions which take place in an institution-free context, just as there are no human persons who exist in an institution-free environment. Even further, all our experiences are interpreted and understood through the concepts, practices, and symbols we appropriate from our various institutional contexts, including ecclesial institutions.76 From a Christian perspective, indeed, ecclesial institutions conceived in this way are no threat to true personhood and freedom, but are divinely- ordered means of grace through which our true personhood and freedom is restored through ________________________________________ 74 Volf frames the issue this way: “The members of the church do not stand over against the church as an institution; rather, their own actions and relations are the institution [sic] church. Although the institutional church is not their “product,” but rather is a “product” of the Spirit, the church does not stand over against them as a kind of objectified, alien entity, but rather is the manner in which they relate and behave toward one another.” Volf, After Our Likeness, 241. I think Volf’s overall direction here is correct, though he understates the objective character of institutions, I believe in reaction to typical protestant anti-institutionalism. 75 In the words of the 1961 Faith and Order interim report, referenced above: “To assert that the Church possesses an institutional character and is articulated by a multiplicity of institutions, does in no way imply a derogation of the intensely personal quality of its koinonia. On the contrary, by the term koinonia we understand the communion into which God in Christ through the Holy Spirit binds the believer to himself and to all fellow-believers by baptism and the ministry of reconciliation (II Cor. 5.17). Thus, in the Church, in the community of the Spirit, the dichotomy of institution and koinonia is overcome. The institutional patterns of the Church provide an ordered structure for the common life, through which God imparts His gracious love to man and makes a personal existence in freedom and responsibility manifest.” Commission on Faith and Order, “Institutionalism and Church Unity,” 77. 76 This approach comports well with George Lindbeck’s cultural-linguistic approach to religion, which draws in part upon the work of Berger and Luckmann. In Lindbeck’s argument, “inner experience” is derived from a cultural- linguistic framework regarding ultimate concerns (his understanding of a religion) - though he further clarifies that a religion (as a cultural-linguistic framework) and religious experience exist in a dialectical relationship. That is, it is not simply that religion shapes experience in a unilateral way. See George A. Lindbeck, The Nature of Doctrine: Religion and Theology in a Postliberal Age (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1984), 32-41. Although Lindbeck does not use “institution” as a primary category in his account, the definition of institutions which I am employing (stable structures of social practice) is broad enough to include everything which Lindbeck includes in his cultural-linguistic category. In other words, a particular religion has an inescapably institutional character. [ Page ] 64 incorporation into the body of Christ. Christian salvation is essentially social, not individualistic, and since all social interaction is necessarily institutional, Christian salvation and the Christian Church are necessarily institutional.77 Christian fellowship, worship, ministry, sacraments, and the proclamation of the word are institutions which are both the result of our common habitual actions, and also confront us as a verbum externum.78 They are human institutions through which the Spirit calls us to be conformed to Christ, and through which the Spirit chooses to mediate divine gifts of grace. Ecclesial institutions therefore have a sacramental character. Ecclesial institutions are certainly open to abuse and distortion, but this is not because they are institutions, but because they are the stable patterns of interactions among redeemed sinners, who continue to struggle with sin, and whose patterns of interaction are thus marked by sin. As outlined in chapter II.1, the Church cannot presume upon the Spirit’s blessing, and therefore my claim that ecclesial institutions are means of grace should not be taken as a licence for ecclesiastical triumphalism. Ecclesial institutions as means of grace may be used by the Spirit as means for the communication of divine judgment as well as divine mercy. This is part of the Israelite character of the Church: the Church is elected to witness to God, and does so in both faithfulness and unfaithfulness.79 The sacramental character of ecclesial institutions, therefore does not mean that the Church can presume upon the grace of God. Just as one might “drink judgment” in the eucharist (1 Cor. 11), the Spirit may carry divine judgment through other ecclesial institutions. It is not the case, therefore, that every ecclesial institution is always an _________________________________________ 77 To return again to Volf’s discussion of the institutionality of the Church: “The essential sociality of salvation implies the essential institutionality of the church. The question is not whether the church is an institution, but rather what kind of institution it is.” After Our Likeness, 235. 78 This point is brought out well by Lindbeck in his comparison of religion to a cultural-linguistic system: “To become a Christian involves learning the story of Israel and of Jesus well enough to interpret and experience oneself and one’s world in its terms. A religion is above all an external word, a verbum externum, that molds and shapes the self and its world, rather than an expression or thematization of a preexisting self or of preconceptual experience.” Lindbeck The Nature of Doctrine: Religion and Theology in a Postliberal Age 34 79 I am drawing again on Lindbeck’s ideas, found in “The Story-Shaped Church”; “The Church.” [ Page ] 65 effective means of grace. Neither do I want to claim, at this point, that particular ecclesial institutions have been divinely instituted, though I would claim that God will not leave the Church as a whole without the institutional means necessary for its continued existence and witness in the world.80 At this point, my argument is simply that the Church is inescapably institutional, and that ecclesial institutions are divine means of grace. Its institutional character is not indicative of a primitive “fall” from an earlier “charismatic” state, but is rather an essential part of the Church’s constitution as a divine-human community.81 DISTINCT BUT NOT OPPOSED Although institution and charism must not be opposed in principle, they must be distinguished. If we fail to distinguish between divine gifts of grace and ecclesial institutions we fail to honour the Spirit’s sovereignty in distributing those gifts as the Spirit pleases (1 Cor 12:11). A confusion of charism and institution can also give the impression that the institutions themselves somehow “contain” grace or are able to control its dispensation.82 Though ecclesial institutions are indeed the means through which the Spirit works in the giving of diverse gifts, ______________________________________ 80 In chapter II.3 I will address which institutional functions are normative for the local and universal church. 81 Again, the important ecumenical work of the early 1960s on this topic dispelled the myth of a primitive “fall” from charismatic perfection. See Hans Dombois, “The Church as Koinonia and Institution,” in Institutionalism and Church Unity, ed. Nils Ehrenstrom and Walter G. Muelder (New York: Association Press, 1963), 120; R. P. C. Hanson, “Institutions in the Early Church,” in Institutionalism and Church Unity, ed. Nils Ehrenstrom and Walter G. Muelder (New York: Association Press, 1963), 96-97; Berndt Gustafson, “Types of Religious Institutionalization,” in Institutionalism and Church Unity, ed. Nils Ehrenstrom and Walter G. Muelder (New York: Association Press, 1963), 123. Though I take issue with his identification of “Jewish Christianity” with the institutional church and “Gentile Christianity” with the “spiritual” church, J. L. Leuba’s earlier work nevertheless affirms the essential institutionality of the Church, and stands behind some of the essays noted above. See Jean-Louis Leuba, New estament Pattern: An Exegetical Inquiry into the “Catholic” and “Protestant” Dualism, trans by. Harold Knight (London: Lutter, 1953), 93-126. 82 I should state here that, while I believe Ratzinger’s reluctance to speak of the Church as an institution can lead to this kind of confusion, he actually makes his argument precisely on the basis of a claim that the Church cannot dispose of its ministries herself, but must constantly depend on God’s pneumatic action. In his view, then, de- coupling office and charism is what leads to triumphalism, because the institution is seen as guaranteeing fidelity in and of itself. Ratzinger, “The Ecclesial Movements,” 25-29. His understanding of “institution,” is, however, too restrictive, in my opinion. While he does not explicitly spell it out, he seems to presuppose that institutionality implies a self-sufficient and entirely human organization, which “guarantees its own security and the satisfaction of its own needs.” Ibid., 27. My broader view of institution as a stable pattern of social interaction does not imply such self-sufficiency, which would indeed be problematic. [ Page ] 66 the status of the institutions as means requires that they be distinguished from the gifts themselves. Because the Church is an institution, or rather a complex web of institutions, it is subject to the same sinful patterns and tendencies as other human institutions. These institutional tendencies may help to explain the tension which sometimes exists between established authority structures and movements of renewal and reform.83 Though charism and institution are to be distinguished, they must not be construed as opposed to one another. The fact that certain remarkable charismatic leaders in church history have faced opposition from those in authority does not imply that institutions per se are opposed to charisms, but rather that ecclesial institutions are frail instruments which remain affected by sin. Ecclesial institutions are necessarily charismatic, in the sense that the persons participating in those institutions must be endowed with vocational gifts of the Spirit.84 Those institutions could not be means of grace without the Spirit endowing human agents - whose stable patterns of interaction constitute ecclesial institutions - with diverse, vocational gifts. It is the same Spirit who gives gifts to those serving in established institutional roles and to those unexpectedly gifted persons who arise from time to time.85 Therefore, there can be no fundamental opposition between ecclesial institutions and charisms. Just as charisms do not “compete” with natural abilities but take up and elevate them for divine service, so also charisms are given for the ______________________________________ 83 This is why I prefer to affirm that a “legitimate tension” exists in the Church’s history, while suggesting that the tension is best characterized as a tension between institutions rather than a tension between charism and institution. While my account bears many similarities to a traditional Catholic account, I want to give more attention to tensions arising from sin as an “institutional” problem, rather than ascribing sin merely to the persons themselves who participate in the institutions. For example, see the claim of Mystici Corporis that ecclesial failures are the result of “that regrettable inclination to evil found in each individual” (§66). 84 “In Acts and the Fourth Gospel the corporate reception of the Spirit is seen as the beginning of the apostolic ministry of the church. No Spirit, no ministry; no charism, no ministry. This is just as true of ministry in the church today, for each believer, whether layman, bishop, or pope. For this reason one cannot separate the charismatic church from the institutional church.” Kilian McDonnell, Charismatic Renewal and Ecumenism (New York: Paulist Press 1978) 53. 85 “For it is evident that ultimately speaking the gifts of the Spirit can only be regulated by a gift of the Spirit. In other words, any attempt to regard the official and the charismatic elements as simply opposed to one another would be totally at variance with the real situation.” Rahner, “Observations on the Factor of the Charismatic in the Church,” 86. [ Page ] 67 elevation - the upbuilding - of the necessarily institutional church. Such edification of ecclesial institutions may require and involve divine judgment upon persons or institutions in the Church. This judgment is not, however, a fundamental opposition to the Church’s institutional character. Because of sin and human frailty, we do experience tension and struggle between the established structures and movements of reform and renewal in the Church, but this is not a tension between “charism” and “institution” per se, but rather a tension between established institutional structures and new institutions seeking to reform or renew the Church.86 Ecclesial institutions, then, are the milieu in which the Spirit graciously acts, in spite of the frailty of such institutions. DISTINCT, BUT INTERDEPENDENT While, in principle, charism is not dependent upon institution, in the concrete life of the Church in history, charism and institution are interdependent. That is, the Spirit’s divine and sovereign outpouring of diverse charismata takes place in the Church, which exists as a concrete people in history, and is, therefore, necessarily institutional. Charism and institution, then, exist as a unity-in-distinction in the Church’s historical life. This unity-in-distinction is elucidated by a consideration of the relation of the missions of the Spirit and Son in the Church. Sometimes, attempts are made to explain charismatic movements by simply contrasting the work of the Son and the Spirit, for example, by saying that the christological dimension of the Church is her visible, objective manifestation in sacraments and office, while the Spirit represents the free manifestation of charismatic gifts in unpredictable ways. Aligning the Spirit with charisms and Son with institutions can leave the impression that the Spirit and the Son are two divergent principles at work in the Church.87 But christology and pneumatology cannot be contrasted and ___________________________________ 86 My account here draws upon Rahner The Dynamic Element in the Church 73-77 87 This idea is commonly articulated as a caricature of post-Tridentine Catholic ecclesiology, which did indeed place a strong emphasis on the notion that Christ founded the Church as a perfect society and “determined the form of its [ Page ] 68 opposed in this way. A more fruitful approach is to simply focus on pneumatology in its trinitarian context. After his death and resurrection, Christ is present in the world by the Spirit. Jesus is the one who, in his humanity, has preceded us in the life of the Spirit and continues to be present among us through and in the Spirit. There can be no pneumatology isolated from the incarnation, nor can we understand the ongoing significance of the incarnation without reference to the Spirit, who makes the epaphax of Christ’s work present throughout the Church’s historical existence.88 If we wish to claim that the Church’s historical offices and sacraments are christological, in that through them Christ continues to be made present in the world, they must at the same time be said to be pneumatological, in that the Spirit is the one whom Christ has sent to make himself present in the Church in the time between the times, and it is the Spirit which bestows the charisms necessary for the fulfillment of any official institutional role within the Church. Likewise, while charisms are clear demonstrations of the sovereignty of the Spirit, they are also profoundly christological, in that the Spirit always witnesses to Christ, and by his sanctifying work, conforms the Church to the image of Christ. As I noted in chapter II.1, the primary criteria for evaluating charisms is their confession of the lordship of Christ, and the ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ existence and gave it its constitution” (ch. III of the first draft of the Constitution on the Church, Vatican Council I, in Josef Neuner, Heinrich Roos, and Karl Rahner, eds., The Teaching of the Catholic Church: as Contained in Her Documents (Staten Island, N.Y.: Alba House, 1967), 213. Of course, the point of this emphasis was not to suggest that the Spirit was opposed church as institution; in its proper formulation, this approach was in fact Trinitarian: “It stems from the inexhaustible fount of mercy of God the Father; the incarnate Word laboured to build its foundations; and it was perfected in the Holy Spirit.” Ibid., 214. However, the idea that Christ himself founded the institutions of the Church lends itself to the notions that the institutional aspects of the Church are “christological,” and therefore the surprising / prophetic developments are attributed to the Spirit. Although he argues against a straw man version of this christological / institutional versus pneumatological / charismatic argument, Ratzinger nonetheless provides some helpful caution against interpreting the difference between “church” and “movement” primarily through the lens of christology / pneumatology. See Ratzinger, “The Ecclesial Movements,” 29-31. Without citing any particular sources, he states, “The dialectic between the christological and pneumatological view of the Church is increasingly being pushed to the forefront of contemporary theology. In the light of this dialectic, it is asserted that the sacrament belongs to the christological-incarnational aspect of the Church, which then has to be supplemented by the pneumatological-charismatic aspect.” Ibid., 29. Contrast this with the careful argument laid out by David L. Schindler, “Institution and Charism: The Missions of the Son and the Spirit in Church and World,” Communio 25 (1998): 259-260. 88 On this point see Ratzinger, “The Ecclesial Movements,” 30-31. [ Page ] 69 identification of the Spirit’s work with Pentecost connects charisms to first fruits offerings, thereby giving them a sacrificial character as types of the cross. Thus a theological interpretation of both the institutional and charismatic aspects of the Church must claim that both aspects are, at the same time, pneumatological and christological. We recognize the unity-in-distinction that pertains between the mission of the Spirit and the mission of the Son, and also between charism and institution. For this reason, it is problematic to directly identify ecclesial institutions with Christ and ecclesial charisms with the Spirit. Charisms are the work of the same triune God who sustains the Church through history in her visible structures, which in and of themselves require pneumatic assistance in order to exist as ecclesial institutions - that is, as means of grace. To reiterate what was said above, in arguing for the inseparability of charism and institution in the church’s historical life, I am not attempting to collapse the distinction between the two. Charisms are gifts of divine grace given to persons in the Church, which have an interdependent character and bring with them a vocational obligation. Institutions are stable patterns of social interaction among human persons. Since the Church is an historical people, enduring through time, it is necessarily institutional. However, the Church is also a creature of the Spirit, so it is necessarily charismatic. Charisms are given to persons in the Church, and therefore they will always be received in an institutional context. Thus, ecclesial institutions exist as means of grace which are taken up and used by the Spirit in order that charisms might be received, discerned, cultivated, and exercised for the good of the Church as a whole. OVERSIGHT AS CHARISM My perspective is perhaps best outlined by examining the important issue of episcope [ Page ] 70 (oversight) as it relates to the question of charism and institution.89 Oversight, in any church polity, is an institutional practice, but at the same time presupposes the presence of the charism of oversight in the person or persons exercising oversight. While the multiplicity of charisms present in the Church necessitate a ministry of authentication, coordination, and cultivation, as has been noted by a number of significant bilateral and multilateral dialogues on the issue of episcope,90 this does not mean that oversight as “institution” can be played off against the “charisms” of other persons. The ministry of oversight is a particular charism among those given to the Church, and therefore is grounded within the charismatic life of the Church, even as overseers take on an authenticating role in relation to the charisms of the members of the community. This process of discerning and approving of charismata does not take place in isolation, but is done in concert with the community as a whole, and in collegial association with others who exercise the ministry of oversight.91 Because oversight is itself a ministry which requires charismatic endowment, it cannot be ______________________________________ 89 I am using the term episcope here in a broad sense to refer to the ministry of oversight, which may be present in various forms in differing ecumenical contexts, not only those that have bishops. Therefore, in some of the literature cited below, aspects of oversight are included under a more general discussion of “ministry,” and not only in discussions of the office of bishop 90 For relevant World Council of Churches sources, see Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry, Faith and Order Paper No. 111 (Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1982), Ministry, §§23, 32. The Nature and Mission of the Church: A Stage on the Way to a Common Statement, Faith and Order Paper 198 (Geneva: World Council of Churches, 2005), §90. From international bilateral dialogues, see Anglican-Lutheran International Continuation Committee, “Episcope,” in Growth in Agreement II: Reports and Agreed Statements of Ecumenical Conversations on a World Level, 1982-1998, ed. Jeffrey Gros, Harding Meyer, and William G. Rusch (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), §§17- 19, p. 15; §§68-69, p. 25. Joint Commission between the Roman Catholic Church and the World Methodist Council, “The Apostolic Tradition,” in Growth in Agreement II: Reports and Agreed Statements of Ecumenical Conversations on a World Level, 1982-1998, ed. Jeffrey Gros, Harding Meyer, and William G. Rusch (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), §60, p. 609. Anglican-Roman Catholic International Commission, “Authority in the Church I,” in The Final Report (London: SPCK, 1982), §§5-6, p. 53-54. 91 Again, a common theme of ecumenical agreements on episope is that it should be exercised personally, collegially, and communally. This precise wording comes from Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry, “Ministry” §26., and is taken up more explicitly in The Nature and Mission of the Church: A Stage on the Way to a Common Statement (Geneva: World Council of Churches, 2005), §§90-98, pp. 24-26 . However, similar formulations can be found in other bilateral ecumenical dialogue reports. See for example, the Anglican-Roman Catholic dialogue (“Authority in the Church I,” §§5-6, pp. 53-55; §§21-23, pp. 63-64; “Authority in the Church II,” in The Final Report (London: Catholic Truth Society, 1982), §19 pp. 89-90 ; The Gift of Authority: Authority in the Church III (Toronto: Anglican Book Centre, 1999), §§36-38 pp. 27-28., as well as the Roman Catholic Methodist dialogue (“The Dublin Report,” in Growth in Agreement: Reports and Agreed Statements of Ecumenical Conversations on a World Level, ed. Harding Meyer and Lukas Vischer (New York: Paulist Press, 1982), § 80, p. 356 . [ Page ] 71 set in opposition to the other charisms, as if overseers are “institutional” and others are not. Furthermore, there are many charisms which are tied to institutional forms which are not “authorities” in the Church, and this means that we cannot simply assume that institutions are limited to those structures of decision making which could have the power to marginalize particular persons or movements with particular gifts. In the Church, even the actions of prophets and healers are in some sense institutional, in that they follow stable patterns of social interaction, learned from others who share the same charism, and recognizable to members of the community.92 Whatever institutional form oversight may take, its faithful exercise depends upon the charismatic assistance of the Spirit. Overseers, therefore, are responsible for cultivating and preserving harmony among the gifts, but they do so as members of the community, who can and do err in making judgments. This means that we cannot create an abstract rule which states that the approval of the overseers of the Church is necessary for the authenticity of a particular charism. The charism of an overseer is no guarantee of faithfulness or infallible judgment, just as the charism of any other member of the community offers no such guarantee.93 THE CHARISMATIC INSTITUTIONAL CHURCH AND THE INSTITUTIONAL CHARISMATIC MOVEMENT How then do we understand conflict in the Church between “charismatics” and established leaders, if this conflict is not a conflict between “institution” and “charism”? I am suggesting that the tensions which often exist should be viewed as tensions between established ____________________________________ 92 See Volf, who defines prophecy as an institution in this sense. Volf, After Our Likeness, 240-241. 93 On this point, see Rahner, “Observations on the Factor of the Charismatic in the Church,” 87. “The Church's officials must not suppose that any movement from below ipso facto proves that it is not sustained by the Spirit and not charismatic merely on the grounds that the officials themselves succeed in suppressing such a movement. The officials of the Church can 'quench the Spirit' just as much as individuals when they do this through their own fault.” See also Sullivan’s similar comment, Sullivan, Charisms and Charismatic Renewal, 49. [ Page ] 72 ecclesial institutions and reforming or renewal institutions. A more specific answer would depend upon the particular case. That is, in a certain situation, we might indeed identify an established authority that is more institutionalized than the movement with which it is in conflict, and we might identify institutional characteristics of the established authority which are contributing to the conflict. On the other hand, we might also identify institutional characteristics in the “charismatic” movement (for example, a corporate identity informed by an anti-establishment bias) which contribute to the conflict. What is important to stress, however, is that there is no abstract conflict between institution and charism in principle. The conflicts which arise are conflicts between institutions - institutions which are, in each case, if they are ecclesial institutions, charismatic. I n summary, the “institution” is not to be identified with established church structures and reform or renewal movements are not to be identified with “charism.” The institutional church is charismatic, and charismatic movements are institutional. We can indeed speak of degrees of institutionalization among various kinds of ecclesial bodies, but there can be no “mere” institutions in the Church, nor are there “pure” charisms which are free of institutionalization. Therefore a claim to charismatic endowment cannot put a particular person or movement above the established church, nor can the established church use its own charismatic gifts as a basis for dominating new movements. Authorities must remain open to surprising gifts, and reformers and renewal leaders must be willing to submit to the decisions of those who have been gifted in order to exercise oversight in the Church. In either case, the gifts are to be used for the edification of the Church and the maintenance of unity among her members. [ Page ] 73 CHAPTER II.3 CHARISMS AND MOVEMENTS Having demonstrated that the scriptural category of charism refers to diverse, vocational gifts given to persons for service in the Church, and having outlined a theology of charism and institution, I will now proceed to the key facet of my argument, that is, my normative claims regarding the specific types of distinct ecclesial bodies which ought to legitimately form around an ecclesial charism. The plurality of charisms have been given to the Church for her edification and upbuilding. These charisms function interdependently for the common good as they are exercised by persons in Christian community. A diverse set of charisms, therefore, is required for the proper health of the local church. This being the case, it follows that a separated ecclesial body ought not to be formed around one particular charism. Furthermore, it is problematic to simply claim that the diversity of separated churches, whether they are independent congregations, or separate communions which find expression in local congregations, reflect a diverse set of charisms given to the universal church. My argument is that the theology of charisms legitimates the existence of diverse vocational movements within the one church, but not a diversity of separated churches. Charisms, properly speaking, are given to persons in the Church. A specialized vocational movement can act as an institutional means of grace in helping to mediate, cultivate, and preserve a particular charism for the sake of the larger Church. This does not, however, legitimate the place of such a movement as a separated church, because a church ought not to be formed around a particular charism. I do not deny that there are, in actual historical reality, certain separated churches which may be characterized, more or less, by a particular charism. I will address this reality at the end of this chapter. The implication of my argument, however, is [ Page ] 74 that these characteristic charisms cannot be used to justify the separation of the particular church in question. Rather, a claim to an ecclesial charism ought to press the Church toward greater unity and integration with the Church universal. Before proceeding any further I should offer a note of clarification on my use of the term “ecclesial movement.” First, because of what I argued in chapter II.2, I consider ecclesial movements to be institutions, and therefore I do not define them in contrast with ecclesial institutions, but rather in contrast with established churches.1 An ecclesial movement is a discreet ecclesial body, identifiable both sociologically and theologically.2 Sociologically the ecclesial movement can be identified as a group of persons who have voluntarily committed themselves to the pursuit of some specific mission within the Church, who do so without directly working through the established structures of authority,3 and who also pursue this mission in the context of a desire to maintain the historical continuity of the Church.4 Theologically, the ecclesial movement is defined by its commitment to pursue its specific mission within the Church, its claim that its members are fulfilling a specific divine vocation, and its claim to be pursuing a radical form of Christian discipleship, while not claiming to be a church, or “the” __________________________________ 1 Cp. Claude Gérest, “Spiritual Movements and Ecclesial Institutions: An Historical Outline,” in Spiritual Revivals, ed. Christian Duquoc and Casiano Floristan, Concilium 9/9 (New York: Herder and Herder, 1973), 37-57. 2 On this point see Snyder. Signs of the Spirit. 34-35. 3 My understanding of movements here contrasts with the recent work by Gregory Leffel in Faith Seeking Action: Mission, Social Movements, and the Church in Motion (Toronto: Scarecrow Press, 2007). Leffel defines movements as non-institutions which exist in confrontation with existing powers (p. 48). It is not always the case that ecclesial movements exist in confrontation with existing authorities in the Church, though this may often be true. Furthermore, I have been explicitly arguing that movements ought not to define themselves as “non-institutional,” and this claim sets me apart from the standard consensus in contemporary social movement theory. See, for example, the definition of social movements as “collectivities” which exist “outside of institutional or organizational channels,” in David A. Snow, Sarah Anne Soule, and Hanspeter Kriesi, “Mapping the Terrain,” in The Blackwell Companion to Social Movements, ed. David A. Snow, Sarah Anne Soule, and Hanspeter Kriesi (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishers, 2004), 11. Another more fundamental difference between my argument and Leffel’s is that Leffel is attempting to gain insights from social movement theory in order to further thinking about the entire church as a global movement whereas I am arguing for a theological distinction between church and ecclesial movement 4 The movement’s view of “historical continuity,” of course, may vary a great deal from case to case. Some may seek the restoration of a perceived golden age in former times, while others may be more interested in immediate historical continuity. The point here is that the movement is not attempting to break completely with the Church or to form a new religion. Without some degree of historical continuity, the movement could not be called “ecclesial.” [ Page ] 75 Church. I would suggest that some, though not all ecclesial movements are formed as means of grace for the cultivation of a particular charism. For the purposes of this project, the key difference between “church” and “movement” is found in charismatic gifts which lie at the heart of each type of ecclesial body. A church is endowed with a plurality of charisms, so that it is fully equipped to fulfill God’s mission in its particular context. A local church, therefore, might intersect in numerous ways with various ecclesial movements, and many of its members could potentially also be members of movements on the basis of their particular charisms, although such dual membership is not a necessity for those members or for the local church.5 An ecclesial movement, on the other hand, is characterized by its focus on a particular charism or limited number of charisms. I will return to these claims and explore them in more detail later in this chapter and in the following chapter. At this point, however, the question of the specific way in which “charisms” are related to “movements” must be addressed. Particularly in light of my claim that charisms are always personal gifts, how is it that an ecclesial movement can be said to be formed around a particular charism? I will begin to address this question by a review of the Catholic literature on the subject of charisms and the religious life, because this body of literature is the place where we find the most developed theological discussion of the relationship between charisms and movements. I will also note also the influence of the Catholic charismatic renewal on this discussion, before showing how the theology of charisms has more recently been extended to include not only those movements which are canonically recognized as “religious” but also lay movements. I contend that the Catholic theology of ecclesial charisms is sound, particularly in its more recent articulations. I will then suggest ways in which a particular type of ___________________________________ 5 In other words, charisms are fundamental to the church’s existence, but not every charism requires cultivation and exercise via participation in a movement. Movements then, are not included in the definition of a local church. [ Page ] 76 Protestant approach to the place of movements in the Church could appropriate the theology of ecclesial charisms. CHARISMS AND CATHOLIC THEOLOGIES OF THE RELIGIOUS LIFE In chapter II.2, I discussed Karl Rahner’s influential essay, “The Charismatic Element in the Church,” in which Rahner identified the founders of institutes of religious life as “non- institutional” charismatic leaders, thereby connecting charisms and the religious life. Rahner’s essay, published originally in 1957, signalled what would become a standard line of Catholic thinking about charisms, particularly in the wake of Vatican II. By far the most common place where one will find the language of charisms today is in Catholic literature on the religious life, where it has become common practice to speak of each institute of religious life as being formed around a particular charism. In recent years, this use of the term charism has been extended beyond those groups which are canonically recognized as institutes of religious life, so that one can now find various lay ecclesial movements talking about their charisms as well. There is also a burgeoning field of research developing in the field of Catholic education, dealing specifically with the question of how a particular educational institution can maintain the charism of its founding religious community when its leadership is transferred to lay administrators.6 Discussion of charisms is so common in Catholic circles today that many are surprised to learn that the discourse about charisms primarily developed after Vatican II, especially in relation to ________________________________________ 6 The following doctoral dissertations (limiting the list to those completed since 2009) are representative of this expanding field of research: Randall Charles Rentner, “Lay leadership and culture within Catholic high schools: A multiple-case study of Holy Cross schools” (Ed.D., New York: Columbia University, 2010); Mary Grace Walsh, “Private Catholic elementary schools established by religious congregations in the United States: Emerging governance models” (Ph.D., New York: Fordham University, 2010); Patricia Tavis, “The discernment process of the Sisters of Saint Dominic regarding the continued sponsorship of its secondary schools” (Ed.D., South Orange, NJ: Seton Hall University, 2010); Richard Charles Petriccione, “A descriptive study of lay presidents of American Catholic colleges and universities” (Ph.D., New York: Fordham University, 2009); Deborah A. Egan, “Dominican High Schools: Personal, Professional, and Institutional Transitions and Fidelity to the Dominican Charism” (Ed.D., South Orange, NJ: Seton Hall University, 2009). [ Page ] 77 charisms and movements.7 The documents of Vatican II do not explicitly tie religious life and “charisms” per se, but lay the groundwork for an emerging theology of ecclesial charisms and religious life.8 Lumen Gentium speaks of following the evangelical counsels as a gift (donum), and the religious life as “a form of life...to which some Christians, both clerical and lay, are called by God so that they may enjoy a special gift (dono) of grace in the life of the Church and may contribute each in his own way to the saving mission of the Church.”9 Without directly employing the language of charisms, Lumen Gentium goes on to speak of how, ...in docile response to the promptings of the Holy Spirit the hierarchy accepts rules of religious life which are presented for its approval by outstanding men and women, improves them further and then officially authorizes them. It uses its supervisory and protective authority too to ensure that religious institutes established all over the world ______________________________________ 7 See my discussion at the beginning of chapter II.2. Elizabeth McDonough comments, “Before Vatican II, charism was certainly not a frequent topic of conversation in Catholic circles, and discussion of the charisma of religious life was relatively nonexistent.” Elizabeth McDonough, “Charisms and Religious Life,” in The Church and the Consecrated Life, ed. David L. Fleming and Elizabeth McDonough (St. Louis, MO: Review for Religious, 1996), 131. See also Ledóchowska, A la recherche du charisme de l’institut, 7. I mentioned the antecedents to the discussion of charisms in general in the previous chapter. It should also be noted that the ways in which institutes of religious life were defined by their particular purpose or mission is analogous to the post-Vatican II theology of charisms, though the term charism is not used. From my perspective, the connection here is made by way of the vocation of the institute. Since every charism brings with it a vocational obligation, it is possible to discern a charism by way of vocation. I will be exploring this line of argument in more detail in section III, where I will be following this very method in attempting to identify the charisms of the Paulist Fathers and The Salvation Army by examining their vocational self-understandings. To return more specifically to the religious life in the Catholic tradition, the closest historical antecedent concept to “charism” would be found in the common practice of stating the purpose of the religious institute at the beginning of its constitution. For example, when Vincent de Paul wrote the “Common Rules or Constitutions of the Congregation of the Mission,” the first article identified a three-fold purpose: growth in holiness, preaching the gospel to the poor, and aiding the growth of seminarians and priests. See Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac, Vincent De Paul and Louise De Marillac: Rules, Conferences, and Writings, ed. Frances Ryan and John E. Rybolt, The Classics of Western Spirituality (New York: Paulist Press, 1995), 87. But even in cases such as this one, the specific “purpose” of the institute was not elaborated in terms of a theology of “vocation,” such as I will do in part III. Rather, the theology of vocation in Catholic tradition in the modern period has been focused on the question of “states of life.” That is, the question of vocation was seen as concerning whether one was called to be a priest, a religious, or a layperson. For a representative 19th century account which draws on traditional sources, see Jean Baptiste Berthier, States of the Christian Life and Vocation, According to the Doctors and Theologians of the Church (New York: P. O’Shea, 1879). While this threefold understanding of vocation might indeed be connected to particular charisms (in this account a key consideration would be the charisms of celibacy or conjugal chastity), it was not adequate as a means of explaining the diversity that exists among the various forms of religious life in the Catholic tradition. This is why the 20th century theology of charisms is genuinely seen as a new development 8 McDonough, “Charisms and Religious Life,” 131. 9 Lumen Gentium, §43, Flannery, The Documents of Vatican II, 403. [ Page ] 78 for building up the Body of Christ may develop and flourish in accordance with the spirit of their founders.10 Along similar lines, Perfectae Caritatis begins by noting how these founders worked “under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit,” and describing the “wonderful variety of religious communities” as “manifold gifts” (variis donis) which adorn the Church.11 The decree then calls religious to renewal on the basis of “the primitive inspiration of their institutes,” and “the spirit and aims of each founder.”12 It was 1971 when Pope Paul VI provided the first official statement connecting charisms and the religious life, equating what Lumen Gentium called the “spirit of the founders” with “charisms”: Only in this way will you be able to reawaken hearts to truth and to divine love in accordance with the charisms of your founders (charisma Fundatorum) who were raised up by God within his Church. Thus the Council rightly insists on the obligation of religious to be faithful to the spirit of their founders, to their evangelical intentions and to the example of their sanctity.13 Paul VI’s use of the language of charisms in this way gave support to an emerging consensus in Catholic thinking about the relationship between charisms and the religious life. Official Catholic documents continued to use the language of charisms when discussing the religious life.14 Popular books by Ladislas Örsy15 and Elio Gambari16 took up the discussion of renewal ______________________________________ 10 Lumen Gentium, §45, Ibid., 405. 11 Perfectae Caritatis §1 Ibid. 611. 12 Perfectae Caritatis, §2, Ibid., 612. This emphasis was repeated in the norms for implementation of Perfectae Caritatis, issued by Paul VI in 1966: “For the good of the Church, institutes must seek after a genuine understanding of their original spirit, so that they will preserve it faithfully when deciding on adaptations, will purify their religious life from alien elements, and will free it from what is obsolete.” Sanctam Ecclesiam II, §16, Ibid., 627. See further Paul VI’s “Address to all Religious,” May 23, 1964, in Religious Life in the Light of Vatican II (Boston: Daughters of St. Paul, 1967), 308-310. 13 Paul VI, Evangelica Testificatio: Apostolic Exhortation on the Renewal of the Religious Life According to the Teaching of the Second Vatican Council (n.p., 1971), §11, p. 19. See also §32, which speaks of the special form of life of each institute as “a precious aid...which experience, faithful to the charisms of the various institutes, has given rise to.” Ibid. 36. 14 See, for example, Sacred Congregation for Religious and for Secular Institutes and Sacred Congregation for Bishops, Mutuae Relationes: Directives for the Mutual Relations Between Bishops and Religious in the Church, 1978, §§11-14 ; John Paul II, Redemptionis Donum: To Men and Women Religious on Their Consecration in the Light of the Mystery of the Redemption, 1984, §15. 15 Ladislas M. Örsy, Open to the Spirit: Religious Life After Vatican II (Washington: Corpus Books, 1968). [ Page ] 79 and charisms and developed it in the late 1960s, and they had already begun to connect the founding of religious institutes with charisms. As the renewal progressed a body of literature was established dealing with the renewal of religious life on the basis of “the spirit of the founders.” Early treatments in the wake of the Council, however, reflect certain ambiguities in the Catholic theology of charisms. For example, there is, particularly in Gambari, a lack of precision in the use of the term “charism.” For Gambari, charism seems to refer in a broad sense to the overall character of the institute.17 Charism, “original inspiration,” and “spirit of the founder/institute” are indeed used interchangeably, and in such a way that this “spirit” is described as having an agency of its own. The first feature of an institute is the spirit which the founders impressed upon it. It is no easy task to give a clear definition of what is meant by the spirit. It is not the spirituality, even if this is one of its prominent factors. The spirit of an institute can be compared to its soul, which vivifies and informs the whole institute and each of its elements, imprinting thereon a very distinct character, a special style of life, which is translated into a particular way of looking at things, of judging and evaluating, a particular way of becoming part of the mystery of the Church and making it present to the world. It comes into the spirituality, the manner of living, the evangelical counsels, the apostolic work, the common life, the manner of reaching out to fellow men, and so forth. Here we think of the Franciscan spirit, the Ignatian spirit, the Montfort spirit, the apostolic spirit of certain founders.18 _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 16 Elio Gambari, Renewal in Religious Life, trans by. Daughters of St. Paul, 4th ed. (Boston: St. Paul Editions, 1967); Elio Gambari, Journey Toward Renewal: Meditations on the Renewal of the Religious Life, trans by. Daughters of St. Paul (Boston: St. Paul Editions, 1968). 17 Thus he writes that “everything that constitutes the vocation and the life and the mission to which the Lord calls the members of an institute and provide as much as is required for its structure, conservation, development, action, and government of the institute,” is “contained explicitly or implicitly in the charism of the founder.” Gambari, Renewal in Religious Life, 213. Again, in The Global Mystery of Religious Life, trans by. Mary Magdalen Bellasis, Consecration and Service I (Boston: St. Paul Editions, 1973), 70. “For an institute the charism is shaped by its original inspiration and identified with it.” 18 Gambari, Renewal in Religious Life, 189. See also the brief definition of charism in Gambari, Journey Toward Renewal: Meditations on the Renewal of the Religious Life, 24. “The special charism of the institute is none other than the spirit with which Christ is lived in that particular institute”; and further, in Unfolding the Mystery of Religious Life, trans by. Mary Magdalen Bellasis, Consecration and Service II (Boston: St. Paul Editions, 1974), 259. “The charism must not be left to fossilize; it is an inexhaustible wellspring of spiritual and apostolic life. Texts endeavour to express it, but it cannot be contained within them; as a living thing it is ever at work in the institute and its members.” [ Page ] 80 In a slightly later work Gambari speaks of the religious life itself as possessing the character of a charism.19 Thus, his understanding of the charism of a founder is broader than the understanding of charism that I am working with, and seems determined more by the specific concerns of Roman Catholic religious life than with a theological account of charisms themselves.20 A 1978 article by Francis George also defines charism in a way that is too diffuse, particularly in its application to a collective. While acknowledging that charisms are “personal,” he nonetheless sees the charism of a founder in broad terms, leading to a definition of “collective charism” as “a stance, a viewpoint, in some way derived from or inspired by his [the founder’s] thought, his work, his graced life.”21 Charism thus means the particular perspective of the founder and his movement, rather than the concrete bestowal of personal, vocational grace. The consequences of this perspective become apparent toward the end of the article, where George, like Gambari, ascribes a strange kind of agency to the “spirit” of the founder, suggesting that religious institutes embrace the “mythologization” of their founder, so that the founder can be “not just a model but an agent who calls his religious to live in a certain spirit, adopt a certain perspective, make a certain commitment.”22 Örsy, by contrast, is more careful in his account of the charisms, particularly in discussing how it is possible for a charism to be attributed to a community of persons. Örsy maintains that “charismatic gifts of the Holy Spirit are always given to persons,” and therefore to ________________________________________ 19 “Religious life possesses the character proper to a charism inasmuch as it is a gift of God's goodness enriching not only the receiver but the community of the faithful.” Gambari, The Global Mystery of Religious Life, 70. 20 Consider again how Gambari combines spirituality, heritage, and the needs of the age in the following passage: “The charism of the founder usually includes two elements, first, a grasp of the whole Gospel message which brings into life a specific form of spirituality, to be engrafted upon the general spirituality of the Church as a particular path to union with God; and secondly, a clear perception of the needs of the Church at that time, together with a well- defined choice of suitable ways of meeting them...These two elements blended together had a force of attraction which led others to join the founder and gave the group a characteristic aspect; they form the heritage of the institute transmitted from one to another in permanence and in continual growth and development.” Ibid., 71. 21 Francis E. George, “Founding Founderology,” Review for Religious 36 (1977): 40. 22 Ibid., 47. [ Page ] 81 talk of a community charism is “simply a way of speaking.”23 A community is marked by a particular charism because the persons who are a part of that community have each personally received that same charism from the Spirit. But God can give similar gifts to many persons, and when those who receive similar or identical gifts gather together to form a community, then the common gift will produce a common spirit and a common dedication. In such a case we can properly speak about a charismatic community. Further, by their very union among themselves, their gifts acquire a new strength; a communion comes into being based on the sharing of similar or identical gifts.24 Örsy’s account is thus more consistent with the scriptural categories I laid out in chapter II.1. Though more popular accounts such as those of Gambari and Örsy were produced in the post-Vatican II period, there has been little in-depth critical theological reflection done on the implications of applying the biblical idea of charisms to religious life.25 Two examples of more detailed and critical treatments of these questions can be found by lesser known scholars Teresa Ledóchowska and John Lozano. Ledochowska, an Ursuline sister, undertook research into the charism of her institute, which was published as A la recherche du charisme de l'institut des Ursulines de l'Union Romaine in 1976. The first chapter of her work deals with the theology of charisms and religious life in general, noting how little treatment the subject has received, in spite of the fact that the ________________________________________ 23 Örsy, Open to the Spirit, 23. 24 Ibid. See also p. 59-60: “All charisms are primarily personal; they are the gifts of God to a person. When he gives the same charism to many persons and they come together, a community is established, led by the same purpose and nourished from the same source. In this sense, we can speak about the charism of a community, of a religious institute. The Holy Spirit is leading all members in the same direction.” 25 In making this claim, I am not contending that there has been no serious reflection on the theology of the religious life - merely that there has not been a great deal of critical reflection specifically on the theology of charisms as it relates the religious life. The theology of charisms and religious life is in its infancy, as Teresa Ledóchowska writes (A la recherche du charisme de l’institut, 7.). There is an abundance of shorter articles and essays on the theology of charisms, and some of these do touch on the religious life; likewise there are a great many studies of the theology of the religious life, and often these contain discussions of the theology of charisms. However, in either case, the minor topic in question is typically discussed in a peripheral way. For example, Örsy’s book is about the religious life in general, and only deals with charisms specifically in a few passages. On the other side, influential books like Sullivan’s Charisms and Charismatic Renewal and Suenens’ A New Pentecost? only touch on religious life occasionally. [ Page ] 82 Vatican was now asking religious communities to give an account of the charism of their institute.26 Ledóchowska argues that the charism of a religious person must be rooted in the call to the religious life, must be lived out in service of the Church, and must be realized by the incorporation of the person into a religious family.27 Because she maintains the personal character of charisms,28 Ledóchowska can cogently extend the Pauline metaphor of body and parts to the diversity of religious institutes in the Church as a whole.29 She argues that the “suprapersonal” aspect of the charism is the mission of the particular institute, which originates in the divine plan and is implied in the charism itself.30 The charism of an institute can be defined as “grace given by the Holy Spirit to a religious institute to aid it in the realization of its proper mission.”31 Therefore, she clarifies that we use the term “charism” with reference to an institute in an analogical sense (which she refers to as “charism-mission”), with the true sense of the word being reserved for charism as a personal grace.32 Of course, mission, vocation, and charism are so intimately connected that there will be a correlation between the particular mission of the institute and the personal charisms of its members. In making this move, therefore, Ledóchowska has avoided the problem of depersonalizing the charism. The most extensive treatment of these questions can be found in a short book published ____________________________________ 26 “The theology of charisms is relatively recent and it is only in recent times, during the Second Vatican Council.. .that the Church has spoken more and more of the charisms of particular institutes and urged them to study their specific charism. It is therefore very important to reflect on this problem. ” Ibid., 8 (translations of Ledóchowska are my own). Continuing on page 10, she writes: “.this doctrine is so little developed that the authors use the term in a wide variety of meanings, which can lead to misunderstandings.” 27 Ibid., 21-26. 28 Ibid. 15. 29 “A religious family will thus have awareness of its charisma, that is to say, its mission in the Church - or it will cease to exist. It must, in fact, understand that in the Church, which is the Body of Christ, each member, thus every Religious Congregation, has an irreplaceable function. It would not be good - as Saint Paul says - if the whole body was composed of eyes; what would become of the hearing?” Ibid., 28. 30 “It presupposes, therefore, a mission. But if the Spirit sends it, it is because God has a very specific plan: he wants to help others in a special way and he insists that his plan be realized. The charism is thus a divine intervention, an aid for the execution of a plan ... Charism divine plan and Mission are thus correlatives.” Ibid. 12-13. 31 “The charism of the institute could consequently be defined as: grace given by the Holy Spirit to a religious institute to aid it in achieving its own mission.” Ibid. 14. 32 Ibid., 16. [ Page ] 83 in 1983 by John Lozano, a Claretian Father and theologian.33 Lozano views charisms as an enlivening force, renewing the institutional life of the Church, like “lava” pushing against the “hard crust” of established institutions.34 However, Lozano specifically gives attention to how such charismatic activity itself becomes institutionalized in religious families, and specifically to the question of how a charism can be said to be “transmitted” via such an institution - a question which, I have been arguing, has not received sufficient attention.35 Lozano argues that, strictly speaking, a charism cannot be transmitted, but must come directly from God.36 In a broader sense, however, the charism is transmitted by the particular religious institute in that the community becomes a context where that particular charism is cultivated, deepened, and actualized by the stable structures (i.e., the rule, constitutions, spiritual theology and practices) of the institute.37 Religious join a particular institute, then, “because we realize that our vocation essentially coincides with that of its members and with the aims which this institution pursues.”38 This view of the institute coincides well with what I argued in chapter II.2 regarding institutions as means of grace. The task of “interpreting” the charism of the founder became the basis for the program of ___________________________________ 33 Lozano, Foundresses, Founders and their Religious Families. 34 “But when these charisms erupt at the surface, from the interior where the Spirit of Pentecost is burning like lava, they must necessarily push against the hard crust which has been hardening for centuries. The People of God are not just a charismatic reality (although they are a charismatic reality essentially), but also an institutional entity. The Church has its firm structures and its ministers, people whom God certainly helps in their care for his people, but people who are likewise conditioned by a certain mentality.” Ibid. 61. 35 It should be noted, however, that Rahner does deal with this question in The Dynamic Element in the Church, 58- 62, as discussed in chapter II.2. 36 “The charism, as we have said, always comes directly from the Lord. It is not given by the Church, by any member of the Church (including founders and foundresses), or by the religious community. The Lord, by means of his Spirit, gives it to each individual...” Lozano, Foundresses, Founders and their Religious Families, 76. This is in agreement with Örsy, Open to the Spirit, 23, 59, as cited above. 37 “The gift received by the father or mother, and directly from God by their followers, is collectively cultivated, proposed in spiritual doctrine to new generations, deepened and actualized. Its principle elements, the aim of the Institute or the “primordial concern” of the community, are described in the Constitutions, the form of life and spiritual environment are also described in them, as a point of consideration and source of light and nourishment for successive generations. In this less proper sense, the charism is transmitted.” Lozano, Foundresses, Founders and their Religious Families, 76. 38 Ibid., 75. [ Page ] 84 renewal of the religious life after Vatican II. In a more recent article from 1996, Elizabeth McDonough summarizes the relevant papal documents relating to this renewal, and drawing upon them, identifies a set of criteria for renewal. If religious communities are in fact based upon a particular charism given to the Church, then existing communities must ask themselves a) if they indeed have a charism; b) if they know what their charism is; and c) if they are prepared to strive to live accordingly. If their answer to any of those questions is in the negative, the religious community will not survive.39 Along with these questions come the tasks of identifying, articulating, and interpreting the founder’s charism with a view to the contemporary life of the religious movement in question. Lozano, following Francis George, argues for the need for a “hermeneutic” approach to the founder’s charism, moving beyond mere “imitation” of the founder’s deeds, yet avoiding a free floating understanding of the institute’s charism based completely on contemporary experience.40 Ledóchowska argues that the ongoing history of the movement must also be taken into account. She suggests that the charism of each member of the institute is analogous to the unique charism of the founder, in that, while given for the same mission, the charism of the members of the institute is given to continue the mission in their own time and place, whereas the charism of the founder was given specifically for the founding of the institute.41 Therefore, in attempting to research the charism of an institute, one must begin with the founder, but must also take into account the ways that the members of the institute have understood the charism over time.42 __________________________________ 39 McDonough, “Charisms and Religious Life,” 135. 40 George contrasts these approaches as the “historical” (imitation) vs. “existential” (contemporary experience), vs. “hermeneutic.” “Founding Founderology,” 41-45; Lozano, Foundresses, Founders and their Religious Families, 87-90 41 “Just as the institute does not exist apart from its members, the charism of the institute is a grace analogous to that of the Founder and it is granted to all the religious, not to inaugurate, but to continue the mission. It exists in each of their hearts over the course of the centuries.” Ledóchowska, A la recherche du charisme de l’institut, 31. 42 Ibid., 29-34. Ledóchowska then follows this plan in the remainder of her book, giving tracing the charism of the institute down through its history. [ Page ] 85 The picture that emerges from this perspective, particularly in its more mature form as outlined by both Ledóchowska and Lozano, is that of a vocational diversity in the Church, evidenced in the various institutes which have at their root a particular charism. The fruitfulness, functionality, and vitality of the movements depend on their continual interpretation and actualization of that charism in their own institutional structures and in communion with the established church. This coheres with my arguments regarding the scriptural category of charisms in chapter II.1, and with what I have argued regarding ecclesial institutions as means of grace. That is, while we might speak of the “charism of an institute,” or in my terminology, “the charism of a movement,” what we are really discussing is an institutionally ordered body of persons who share a common charism. This charismatic-institutional movement is thus used providentially by the Spirit for the purposes of furthering the cultivation and exercise of that charism, in accordance with the needs of the Church. CATHOLIC CHARISMATIC RENEWAL AND THE EXTENSION OF THE THEOLOGY OF CHARISMS TO LAY MOVEMENTS Alongside this literature dealing with the religious life, a related discussion was taking place in Catholic circles about the charismatic renewal movement. No doubt the influence of the charismatic renewal, which was embraced by the Catholic hierarchy, contributed to the growing prevalence of a charism-based theology of religious institutes. Generally speaking, reflections on charismatic renewal comport well with the theology of the religious life, in that Catholic charismatics tend to view both the established structures of the Church and the continued emergence of new reforming movements as normal and part of the Spirit’s work in the Church.43 _____________________________________ 43 For Catholic attempts to bring these two phenomena together (charismatic renewal and religious life) under a more general concept of renewal, see Gérest, “Spiritual Movements and Ecclesial Institutions: An Historical Outline”; Pierre Raffin, “Spiritual Renewal and Renewal in the Religious Life,” in Spiritual Revivals, ed. Christian Duquoc and Casiano Floristan, Concilium 9/9 (New York: Herder and Herder, 1973), 139-148. [ Page ] 86 This discussion is also significant because the ecumenical character of the charismatic renewal pushed its participants to see parallels between some protestant renewal movements and Catholic religious institutes. There is an immense amount of literature on Catholic charismatic renewal, but a brief review of the contributions of three major authors in relation to the question of ecclesial charisms will demonstrate the connections between this literature and the theology of the religious life. Léon Joseph Suenens, in his 1974 book, A New Pentecost?, while affirming the Spirit’s presence with the official authorities of the Church, also remarks on the “other ways and means” through which the Spirit renews the Church, namely, through great saints like Francis, Dominic, and others who “suddenly and without warning” become “living, radiant witnesses of the presence of the Spirit within the Church at moments of crisis.”44 Suenens therefore connects the discussion of charisms to the major founders of religious communities. However, his primary focus is on the gifts as such, and in particular on extraordinary charisms, and so these founders function primarily in his treatment as exemplary “charismatics” in the colloquial sense of the word.45 Later, Suenens discusses the small Christian communities that were emerging from the charismatic renewal,46 but offers no theological account of how charisms and religious life are related to one another. Francis Sullivan, in his well-known book Charisms and Charismatic Renewal, also speaks of the official sacramental ministries and charismatic movements as two “equally _____________________________________ 44 Suenens, A New Pentecost?, 11. 45 See, for example, his brief section on “Charismatic Experience through the Centuries,” pp. 37-39, which recounts scattered examples of authors who remark on extraordinary charisms. Suenens notes: “If the West has a tradition in which devotion to the Holy Spirit is less conspicuous, still, the same faith is at work, particularly in the lives of the saints and the founders of religious orders. St. Ignatius Loyola has written some classic pages on discernment, and his is far from being an isolated case. Both before and after him, theologians and spiritual authors reflected upon the gifts of the Spirit and gave directives as to their use.” Ibid. 39. 46 Ibid., 135-150. [ Page ] 87 important” ways in which the Spirit gives life to the Church.47 The official ministries of the Church exist to safeguard and pass on the tradition, but charismatic movements are given “for the purpose of shaking the Church out of the complacency and mediocrity that inevitably creep into any institution.”48 In addition to Catholic religious orders, Sullivan also suggests that many movements that ended up becoming sects or separate church bodies began as charismatic movements within the Church. Their separation indicates a failure to renew the Church, but it need not indicate that the separated movements were not in fact the work of the Spirit, because blame for separation often lies on both sides, and at times has been due to a resistance to reform on the part of the Church.49 Without going into detail, Sullivan suggests that “the history of Western Christianity in the last four hundred years has been profoundly marked by alienations of this kind, whether from the Catholic Church in the sixteenth century, or from various Protestant bodies in the following centuries.”50 The focus of his writing is on Catholic and non-Catholic Pentecostal movements, although Sullivan is clear that he does not want to restrict the meaning _______________________________________ 47 “There are two distinct, but equally important, ways that the Holy Spirit breathes life into the body of Christ: on the one hand, by his covenant relationship with the church, guaranteeing the effectiveness of its sacraments and official ministries, and on the other, by his unpredictable and often surprising charismatic interventions.” Sullivan, Charisms and Charismatic Renewal, 47. 48 Ibid. Sullivan is comfortable speaking of the official structures of the Church as institutional, and of ascribing an inevitable stultifying character to those institutions, which puts him closer to someone like Snyder than to Rahner or Ratzinger. 49 Ibid., 49. On this point, see also Rahner, “Observations on the Factor of the Charismatic in the Church,” 87. “The Church's officials must not suppose that any movement from below ipso facto proves that it is not sustained by the Spirit and not charismatic merely on the grounds that the officials themselves succeed in suppressing such a movement.” See further, Laurentin, Catholic Pentecostalism. chapter 6, “The Charismatic Movement in Church History,” (pp. 132-146), where Laurentin argues that the members of movements normally described as “revivalists,” and “enthusiasts” can be subsumed under the broader category of “pneumatics” or “charismatics.” “The choice of name makes little difference. In studies of revivals, enthusiasm, and spirit-inspired movements, we find pretty much the same movements passing in review.” Ibid., 135. Laurentin goes on to include Joachim of Fiore, the spiritual Franciscans, and the Waldensians in his survey of charismatic movements. 50 Sullivan, Charisms and Charismatic Renewal, 49. Sullivan also notes that, while for much of this period, Catholics simply denied that the Holy Spirit was at work protestant bodies, Vatican II affirmed that the Spirit works not only in individuals but also through “the various churches themselves as channels of grace and salvation.” Ibid. Cf. Unitatis Redintegratio §§3 and 4, in Flannery, The Documents of Vatican II, 455-459. [ Page ] 88 of the term “charismatic” to those these movements,51 but rather has a broader theology of charisms and charismatic renewal in mind.52 Sullivan’s thinking could thus easily be extended to a discussion of religious life, but he does not undertake this discussion himself. A third important voice in Catholic charismatic renewal has been Kilian McDonnell, who likewise addresses lay renewal movements and religious orders both under the category of “charismatic” movements, while stressing the inseparability of charism and institution in the Church.53 McDonnell is keen to stress the importance of maintaining ties between the renewal movements (be they religious orders or lay communities) and the local parish.54 As with Sullivan, McDonnell’s argument is rooted in a desire to maintain a comprehensive understanding of charisms, not limiting them to the “spectacular.” On this basis, he maintains that all renewal movements are charismatic.55 Suenens, Sullivan and McDonnell, therefore, as major representatives of the theological literature arising out the Catholic charismatic renewal, demonstrate an openness to the idea that renewal movements outside of the Catholic church could have genuine charisms at their root, and furthermore affirm the importance of both charismatic movements and the established ______________________________________ 51 Just as the charismata are not limited to “spectacular” gifts such as speaking in tongues, Sullivan argues, “. so there are other ways to a charismatic renewal of the Church than through the narrow gate of Pentecostalism.” Francis A. Sullivan, “The Ecclesiological Context of the Charismatic Renewal,” in The Holy Spirit and Power: The Catholic Charismatic Renewal, ed. Kilian McDonnell (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1975), 136. See also Sullivan, Charisms and Charismatic Renewal, 50-51. 52 See Sullivan’s eight point summary of what a “charismatic renewal” ought to look like in “The Ecclesiological Context of the Charismatic Renewal,” 128-129. 53 “No Spirit, no ministry; no charism, no ministry...one cannot separate the charismatic church from the institutional church. There is only one church which is charismatically structured. The institutional church is the charismatic church. There must be no playing of charisms and institution against one another. In the Spirit the institution is made charismatic and the charismatic is made institutional.” McDonnell, Charismatic Renewal and Ecumenism, 53. For an example of McDonnell’s theology of charisms applied to “official” ministry in the Church, see his “Infallibility as Charism at Vatican I,” in Teaching Authority & Infallibility in the Church, ed. Paul Empie (Minneapolis: Augsburg 1980) 270-286. 54 McDonnell, Charismatic Renewal and Ecumenism, 89-97. 55 Kilian McDonnell, “The Holy Spirit and Christian Initiation,” in The Holy Spirit and Power: The Catholic Charismatic Renewal, ed. Kilian McDonnell (Garden City N.Y.: Doubleday, 1975), 68. [ Page ] 89 Church.56 While Catholic charismatics have tended to demonstrate openness to the idea that genuine charisms are found outside the boundaries of the Catholic Church, a more recent development in official Catholic teaching has pushed the boundaries of the theology of charisms beyond the religious life and applied it to lay movements. An explosion of lay movements in Catholic circles has brought about some re-thinking of the place of such movements in the Church’s life, and most recent accounts of lay movements have turned to the theology of charisms as a way of framing the place of lay movements in the Church.57 The effect of this has been to lessen the distinction between the various “states of life,” by rooting all vocations and the various spiritual families in the Church (be they religious orders or lay movements) in the variety of charisms, distributed by the Spirit to all the faithful.58 The theology of charisms is now being used in official Catholic teaching to support a more general theology of all ecclesial movements, whether they be lay or religious, as can be seen in recent Vatican documents on the subject. For example, the important encyclical of John Paul II, Christifideles Laici, discusses the vocation of lay persons on the basis of a theology of charisms. In that context, he writes of how charisms, “given to individual persons,” can give rise to a “spiritual affinity among persons,” which may lead to the creation of an ecclesial movement, thereby enabling it to “be shared by ______________________________________ 56 While the Catholic charismatic renewal movement continues to this day, there have been no voices in recent decades that have matched the stature and importance of Suenens, Sullivan, and McDonnell. For a brief overview of the history of the movement up to the year 2000, see Susan A. Maurer, The Spirit of Enthusiasm: A History of the Catholic Charismatic Renewal 1967-2000 (Toronto: University Press of America 2010). 57 For an overview of these developments, see Mark Robson, “Examining the Theological Underpinnings of the New Ecclesial Movements” (Th.M. Thesis Toronto: Regis College 2005). 58 For example, Pierre Raffin suggests that religious families ought always to be open to including people of all states of life: “Certain charismatics have, in the past, given birth to real spiritual families where, in principle, there are to be found all who, whatever their state of life, share the same evangelical insights as the founder.” Raffin, “Spiritual Renewal and Renewal in the Religious Life,” 141. Raffin’s point is to stress the connection between the “movement” and the Church as a whole. The religious life, in his view, “cannot exist isolation from the people of God and its unique call to holiness, and that it will never be renewed unless it shares in the spiritual revival of the whole Christian community which might even give birth to new forms of religious life.” Ibid., 142-143. [ Page ] 90 others in such ways as to continue in time a precious and effective heritage.”59 This is basically the same as the theological descriptions of charisms and the religious life discussed above, though the religious life is still recognized as distinct because of its connection with the evangelical counsels. John Paul’s embrace of the language of charisms in speaking of lay ecclesial movements is indicative of the way the theology of charisms has expanded, from its early applications to the religious life in the wake of Vatican II to an accepted way of talking about “movements” of various kinds by the turn of the twenty-first century. Further to this point, talk of the charisms of various lay movements features prominently in two collections of essays based on proceedings of the first and second World Congresses of the Ecclesial Movements and new Communities.60 The first collection opens with papers from Ratzinger and David Schindler, both of whom address lay movements as “charismatic” irruptions.61 In another paper, canon lawyer Gianfraco Ghirlanda defines lay ecclesial movements as ...those forms of association that have their root and origin in a specific gift of the Spirit. This gift or charism brings together, in association, various orders or categories of the faithful: priests; deacons; seminarians; lay men and women, married or celibate men and ________________________________________ 59 “These charisms are given to individual persons, and can even be shared by others in such ways as to continue in time a precious and effective heritage, serving as a source of a particular spiritual affinity among persons.” John Paul II, Christifideles Laici (Sherbrooke, QC: Éditions Paulines, 1989), 24. See also his later remarks, in which he references Christifideles Laici: “By their nature, charisms are communicative and give rise to that “spiritual affinity among persons” and to that friendship in Christ which is the origin of “movements.”” “Address of His Holiness Pope John Paul II on the Occasion of the Meeting with the Ecclesial Movements and the New Communities, Rome, 30 May 1998.,” in Movements in the Church: Proceedings of the World Congress of the Ecclesial Movements, Rome, 27-29 May, 1998., Laity Today (Vatican City: Vatican Press, 1999), 222. 60 These congresses were convened by the Pontifical Council for the Laity in the hopes of furthering theological reflection on the nature of such movements, and to provide a platform for representatives of the movements to share experiences with one another. The papers were published as Movements in the Church: Proceedings of the World Congress of the Ecclesial Movements, Rome, 27-29 May, 1998. (Vatican City: Vatican Press, 1999); and The Beauty of Being a Christian: Movements in the Church. Proceedings of the Second World Congress of the Ecclesial Movements and New Communities, Rocca Di Papa, 31 May-2 June 2006 (Vatican City: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 2007). The congresses were preceded by an earlier, smaller-scale consultation which represented a “first approach” to the issue which took place in 1991. See the preface to Pontifical Council for the Laity, ed., Witnessing to Rich Gifts: Documentation from a Meeting Organized by the Pontifical Council for the Laity from 15 to 17 November 1991., Laity Today (Vatican City: Documentation Service, 1992). 61 Joseph Ratzinger, “The Ecclesial Movements: A Theological Reflection on Their Place in the Church,” and David L. Schindler, “Institution and Charism,” in Movements in the Church, 23-75. [ Page ] 91 women, widows and widowers; consecrated men and women of various forms, contemplative, apostolic or secular; sometimes men and women religious.62 The second congress continued down this theological path, with then-President of the Pontifical Council for the Laity, Stanislaw Rylko, opening the meeting by describing the movements as “the expression of the extraordinary “charismatic” richness of the Church in our time.”63 This brief discussion of the Catholic theology of charisms, as applied to the religious life, the Catholic charismatic renewal, and lay ecclesial movements, demonstrates how Catholic thinking about ecclesial movements is now thoroughly rooted in the theology of charisms. The Catholic approach is, in my assessment, consistent with what I have argued thus far. The biblical concept of charisms has been preserved: they are personal gifts of grace, which bring with them a vocational obligation, and have an interdependent character which means they must be lived out in the context of Christian community. The Catholic accounts have also been keen to avoid a strong charismatic versus institutional dichotomy, and stress the need for movement and church to remain intimately connected.64 While the literature on charism and religious life, on its own, has limited ecumenical potential, the inclusion of the charismatic renewal and other lay movements in the theology of charisms opens the door to an ecumenical application. If lay movements within the Catholic Church can be interpreted as “charismatic,” might the same be said of movements outside of Catholicism? And to what extent does this approach cohere with Protestant interpretations of the place of movements in the Church? ___________________________________ 62 Gianfraco Ghirlanda, “Charism and Juridical Status of the Ecclesial Movements,” in Movements in the Church: Proceedings of the World Congress of the Ecclesial Movements, Rome, 27-29 May, 1998., Laity Today (Vatican City: Vatican Press 1999) 131. 63 Stanislaw Rylko, “New Fruits of Ecclesial Maturity,” in The Beauty of Being a Christian (Vatican City: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 2007), 15. See also the papers from a special consultation of bishops, held after the first congress, which continue to employ the theology of charisms as a way of approaching lay movements: The Ecclesial Movements in the Pastoral Concern of the Bishops (Vatican City: Pontifical Council for the Laity 2000). 64 I would say that the distinction between charism and institution in some of these accounts is stronger than the one I outlined in II.2; however, this is due to the fact that I have defined “institution” more broadly, whereas these authors often assume the colloquial understanding of the term. [ Page ] 92 THE ECUMENICAL POTENTIAL OF THE CATHOLIC THEOLOGY OF CHARISMS With those questions in mind, I want to suggest that this Catholic literature on charisms and movements has ecumenical potential if applied to renewal movements and separated churches which began as renewal movements. In the next chapter, I will discuss in greater detail the reasons why the theology of ecclesial charisms should not be applied to the entire spectrum of separated churches. For now, I would like to further my own argument by offering some initial suggestions as to why the Catholic perspective can complement a certain type of Protestant approach to the question of church renewal movements. First of all, it should be noted that, though they are called “institutes” in Catholic literature, the communities of religious life are also recognized, by both Catholic and Protestant authors, as movements of renewal and reform.65 Beyond the observation that the two types of literature are dealing with many of the same historical movements, there are some Protestant theologies of renewal which end up arguing in favour of a church / movement distinction that is similar in many ways to the Catholic theology of the religious life. That is, some Protestant theologies of renewal view the presence of diverse movements alongside established churches as normative, and see these movements as ____________________________________ 65 For Catholic examples, see Gérest, “Spiritual Movements and Ecclesial Institutions: An Historical Outline”; and Thomas P. Rausch, Radical Christian Communities (Collegeville, Minn.: Liturgical Press, 1990). Gérest addresses the relationship between revival movements and the established church, using religious orders and heretical movements from the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Rausch begins with the apostolic period and moves through monasticism and medieval evangelical communities, but includes various Protestant movements along with modern and contemporary Catholic examples of “radical discipleship.” A classic Protestant example is found in Ralph D. Winter’s essay, “Two Structures of God’s Redemptive Mission,” Missiology 2, no. 1 (1974): 121-139. Winter builds his argument upon the modality / sodality distinction as it is used in anthropological literature (as opposed to the older Catholic use of the term sodality as referring to a lay association). Thus, the modality is defined by Winter as “a structured fellowship in which there is no distinction of sex or age,” whereas a sodality is “a structured fellowship in which membership involves an adult second decision beyond modality membership, and is limited by either age or sex or marital status.” Ibid., 127. Drawing upon both Catholic and Protestant examples, Winter argues that both types of structures have always been present in the Church, and that both are necessary for the Church’s continued existence and missionary effectiveness. For a fuller discussion of his use of modality / sodality, see Ralph D. Winter and Beaver R. Pierce, The Warp and the Woof: Organizing for Mission (Pasadena: William Carey Library, 1970), 55-62. Winter’s argument is taken up by Charles J. Mellis, who also attempts to appropriate the pre-Reformation history of movements from a Protestant perspective. See Committed Communities: Fresh Streams for World Missions (Pasadena: William Carey Library, 1976). A similar argument, which precedes that of Winter and Mellis and does not specifically using the modality / sodality terminology, is found in Donald G. Bloesch, Centers of Christian Renewal (Boston: United Church Press, 1964). [ Page ] 93 being raised up by God for a particular purpose. The theology of ecclesial charisms which I am outlining comports well with those perspectives. I also make this suggestion because movements of renewal and reform in Protestant circles bear many descriptive similarities to Catholic religious orders and lay associations. That is, they are movements of radical discipleship, which often spring up around a gifted leader, are focused on a particular need or lack in the established church, and therefore have a mission that is more specific than that of the Church as a whole. I am thinking, in particular, of Protestant movements that do not, in their original inspiration, see themselves as “churches,” but rather embrace a more particular ecclesial identity. Neither do these movements see themselves as the “true church” and oppose the established church as the “false church,” in spite of whatever implied or explicit criticisms they may make of the established church in their own context. Recent interpreters have claimed that Anabaptism,66 Lutheranism,67 and Methodism68 in particular were all, in their original form, movements of reform within the Church, though all became separated churches over time.69 ___________________________________ 66 C. Arnold Snyder The Life and Thought of Michael Sattler (Scottdale Penn.: Herald Press 1984). 67 Carl E. Braaten and Robert W. Jenson The Catholicity of the Reformation (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans 1996). 68 The Methodist case is more obvious than the others, and less contentious. There is immense literature on the issue of Methodism’s place in the Church of England, but representative accounts emerging during the time when the push for reunion was at its height can be found in Gordon Rupp, “John Wesley: Christian Prophet,” in Prophets in the Church, ed. Roger Aubert, Concilium 37 (New York: Paulist Press, 1968), 45-56; Albert C. Outler, That the World May Believe: A Study of Christian Unity and What it Means for Methodists (New York: Board of Missions of the Methodist Church, 1966). The Methodist case is particularly illustrative of the church-movement tension, because of the prolonged period of time during which Wesley attempted to maintain Methodism’s status as a religious society within the Church of England. Because of this struggle, Wesley bequeathed a somewhat unstable concoction of Anglican, and free church ecclesiologies to the heirs of the Methodist revival, including The Salvation Army. Excellent discussions of the ecclesiological challenges faced by the heirs of Wesley can be found in Albert C. Outler, “Do Methodists Have a Doctrine of the Church?,” in The Wesleyan Theological Heritage, ed. Thomas C. Oden and Leicester R. Longden (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1991), 211-226., and Geoffrey Wainwright, “Ecclesial Location and Ecumenical Vocation,” in The Future of the Methodist Theological Traditions, ed. M. Douglas Meeks (Nashville: Abingdon, 1985), 93-129. 69 My purpose in highlighting these examples is not to claim that each of these movements of reform originated with a particular charism. Indeed, I am not sure if it would be appropriate, for example, to speak of an “Anabaptist charism,” though it is beyond the scope of this project to address that question. I would suggest that there are significant differences between movements which seek a general reform of the Church, believing that the ideals which they are embodying or proclaiming are essential for ecclesiality (thus creating a much stronger pressure [ Page ] 94 To be sure, not all Protestant ecclesiological perspectives would support any prolonged effort at maintaining a “movement” identity within a church which is judged to be lacking in spiritual vitality or doctrinal orthodoxy. Those of radical reformation heritage, and congregationalist ecclesiologies, tend to balk at the suggestion of forming more intense discipleship communities alongside the churches, because a) they tend to believe that these communities are churches, and b) they believe churches are formed on the basis of voluntary association around like-minded convictions (such as are found in a radical discipleship / renewal movement), rather than work towards renewal of an established church of mixed convictions.70 On the other hand, the traditions of Pietism and Methodism began a line of Protestant thinking about renewal that extended through nineteenth century revivalism, and which suggested (at least ideally), a two-tiered church structure, with specialized, radical discipleship movements working alongside and within the established church structure.71 _______________________________________________________________________________________________________ towards schism), and movements focused on fulfilling a more specific purpose within the church, such as evangelizing the poor, or renewing practices of discipleship. As should be clear by now, it is the latter type of movement that I believe to be best conceptualized in terms of an ecclesial charism. The lines between these two types of movement are often not clearly demarcated, however, since the more vocationally-specific movements often end up creating forms of intensive Christian community which come to be seen as, in the least, a fuller expression of church life, if not a low-water mark for ecclesiality. This also presses the movement towards division, though such pressure may take longer to develop. In any case, at this point in my argument I am simply noting the ways in which many Protestants view the presence of both churches and movements as theologically normative. 70 The ecclesiological assumptions laid out by John Owen in his controversial literature on schism are quite pertinent to this discussion, as they remain the operational assumptions of many evangelical protestants today. For Owen, the “end of the church” is “the edification of them that believe,” and the means he instituted are “preaching the word, administering the sacraments, mutual watchfulness over one another, and the exercise of that discipline which he hath appointed unto his disciples.” What is essential, then, is to “keep all churches in such a state, as wherein this end is attained.” John Owen, “A Brief Vindication of the Nonconformists from the Charge of Schism,” in The Works of John Owen, vol. XIX, vol. XIX (London: Richard Baynes, 1680), 604-605. These essentially instituted means are exercised normally in the local congregation, thus Owen argues that congregational government is the means of church-government that can claim to be instituted by Christ himself. A local congregation is, therefore, a whole church, not lacking any criteria for ecclesiality. One can see how, based on these convictions, there would be no obstacles to a reforming movement forming itself as a church. 71 As I noted, evangelical catholic readings have re-claimed the Reformation as a movement of reform within the Church; however, in the aftermath of the schism that resulted from the Reformation, this concept of “movements” was not preserved in mainstream magisterial Protestant thought, in part because of the Lutheran rejection of monasticism. However, Jaroslav Pelikan has argued that, later in life, Luther himself recognized that, in abolishing the monasteries, he had lost an important structural means of furthering Christian mission. See Jaroslav Pelikan, Spirit Versus Structure: Luther and the Institutions of the Church (London: Collins, 1968), 50-75. Spener and [ Page ] 95 Thus, there is a strong strain of Protestant thinking about renewal movements which supports the twofold movement-church distinction, and which could therefore be open to the theology of ecclesial charisms which I am advancing. Howard Snyder offers a helpful survey of theologies of renewal in his book Signs of the Spirit, recounting seven interpretive frameworks for discussing renewal movements in the Church: ecclesiolae in ecclesia, sect/church typologies, believer’s church theories, revivalism, modality/sodality theories, and catholic/Anabaptist typologies.72 Discounting the church/sect typologies as purely sociological, all of these frameworks except for the believer’s church perspective view the presence of smaller, intense communities within the Church as theologically normative. These perspectives on renewal, which have arisen out of theological assessments of the renewal movements in the Church’s history, support the movement versus church distinction that I am arguing is inherent in the theology of ecclesial charisms. My purpose here is not to trace these lines of thought in detail, but to demonstrate how the language of ecclesial charisms need not be seen as a strictly Catholic discourse, although Catholics have developed this line of thinking to a greater extent than Protestants. Snyder’s own perspective, in particular, I would argue, can be enriched by bringing it into dialogue with the emerging theology of ecclesial charisms as outlined above. Snyder attempts to provide what he calls a “mediating perspective” of church renewal, incorporating both the institutional and charismatic aspects of the Church.73 He sees reform movements springing up within the _______________________________________________________________________________________________________ Franke, of course, as Lutherans, also believed their Pietist movement was a very Lutheran project. On this point, see Snyder Signs of the Spirit 35-39 72 See chapter 2. “The Study of Renewal Movements.” in Signs of the Spirit, 31-67. 73 Noting that institutional and charismatic views of the Church each have their limitations, Snyder argues for “a theory of church life and renewal which combines insights from both the institutional and charismatic views,” not seeking a middle ground but attempting to “incorporate the truth of both.” In his view both stable institutional structures and dynamic renewal movements are legitimate and in some sense normal aspects of the Church’s life in history, although the merits and faithfulness of individual movements and institutions could be debated.” Ibid., 274- 275. [ Page ] 96 institutional church, bringing new life and growth, analogous to a new sprout growing out of a stump which appears dead.74 He then offers what he considers to be the “marks” of this mediating model, which is based upon the idea of authentic reform coming through ecclesiolae in ecclesia - radical and more intimate expressions of the Church which exist in the Church, for the good of the whole church, maintaining some form of institutional ties with the larger body.75 Snyder’s perspective already contains a normative distinction between renewal movements and established churches, and stresses the interdependence of the two types of ecclesial bodies. He is also keen to overcome the typical opposition between institution and charism. The theology of ecclesial charisms could complement his own perspective by providing a way to account theologically for the character and mission of specific movements, rooting the rise of the movements in the gracious action of God, while placing these renewing charisms in the context of an overall economy of interdependent gifts, thereby mitigating tendencies to triumphalism on the basis of a claimed divine mandate. Also, the strong push toward the interdependence that is inherent in the theology of ecclesial charisms would strengthen Snyder’s argument in favour of maintaining ties between movement and church. The connection between movement and church, beyond the fact that it helps to achieve the end of renewing the Church as a whole more effectively, is also essential for the faithful exercise of the gifts of grace which God has bestowed upon the Church. CHURCHES AND MOVEMENTS FROM THE PERSPECTIVE OF CHARISMS As noted at the outset of this chapter, the theology of charisms supports a normative distinction between churches and movements. This distinction coheres well with Catholic thinking about religious life, and also has many points of convergence with ecclesiological ________________________________ 74 Ibid. 275. 75 Ibid., 276-280. [ Page ] 97 reflection on the place of renewal movements in the Church. In the remainder of this chapter I will summarize and clarify my normative claims concerning these two types of ecclesial bodies, and bring greater specificity to the relationship between charism and movement. Churches are characterized by a plurality of charisms. They are endowed by the Spirit with such a diversity of gifts as is required for the updbuilding of the body and its missional engagement in the world. This diversity of charisms engenders an organic interdependence among the members of the church, and is a necessary aspect of the church’s life. In order for a body of persons to be a church, the members must be gifted with charisms, leading to the variety of vocations and ministries which are necessary for the Church’s corporate life and mission. On the other hand, ecclesial movements are focused on one particular charism, or a small number of charisms. They need not have a full complement of diverse charisms, precisely because they are not churches, and therefore they do not attempt to be what a church is, or to do what a church does. The institutional structures of these movements are formed in such a way as to encourage and cultivate their particular charism, and to foster the exercise of that charism for the sake of the larger Church. Because they are formed around one specific charism, they cannot function properly as autonomous ecclesial bodies, but must fulfil their vocation in connection with local churches. This distinction between “church” and “movement,” while theologically normative, is not reflected in the Church’s visible and historical life. In fact, there are many hybridized forms of movement/church which exist, particularly among Protestant denominations that began as specialized movements, but later reluctantly took on the characteristics of a church. Therefore we can add to the church / movement distinction two further types of ecclesial bodies, each of which reflects an ecclesiological anomaly: the separated movement and the [ Page ] 98 movement-church. A separated movement is a specialized movement which does not, in its infancy, intend to become a church, but which nevertheless exists as an autonomous body. The early Salvation Army will serve as an example of this in part III below. While Salvationists claimed they were not a church, but rather a movement with a very particular mission and vocation, The Salvation Army nevertheless existed in a state of separation from other Christians, and functioned as an autonomous body. The Salvationist charism, therefore, was not being exercised properly for the upbuilding of the Church as a whole. A movement-church is a specialized movement which has, after a period of separation, begun to take on the functions of a church - that is, it has, to a greater or lesser degree, become characterized by a plurality of charisms, rather than its founding charism. While a movement-church may, in its discourse and identity, continue to attempt to remain focused on its particular founding charism, in practice it will be characterized by a wide range of charisms. This disparity often manifests itself as a tension in the internal life of the movement-church. The later Salvation Army will serve as an example of a movement-church in part III. Finally, I can now sum up more precisely the relationship between charism and movement, in light of what has been said thus far. As we have seen above, charisms, strictly speaking, are given to persons, not to groups. Charisms are, by definition, personal gifts which bring with them a vocational obligation to build up the body of Christ. The specialized movement, therefore, which is defined by an ecclesial charism, does not actually “possess” a charism, but rather serves the cultivation and fruitful exercise of that charism among its members, who are the bearers of the charism. That is, the practices, traditions, rule of life, and discourse of the particular movements serve to facilitate and cultivate the exercise of particular charisms. As suggested in chapter II.2, as an institution, the movement is a means of grace, [ Page ] 99 whereby the charism is cultivated, preserved, and exercised by persons. It is in this sense that we can speak of the charism of the movement; not that the group possesses the charism, but that the movement is an institutional means for the cultivation and exercise of the charism. However, since ecclesial persons always exist in and for the ecclesial community, this distinction should not be read in an absolute fashion. While charisms are given to persons, ecclesial persons do not exist as autonomous individuals, but rather belong to one another and to the Church as a whole, just as the Church belongs to them and they belong to Christ (1 Corinthians 3:21-23). Charisms, too, though given to persons, are gifts for the Church, and they do indeed belong to the Church as a whole. In a sense, then, it can be said that a charism “belongs” to a particular movement, so long as we recall that the movement “belongs” to the Church as a whole and the Church belongs to God. The movement, as an institution, is a means of grace, and is therefore used by the Spirit of God as a charismatic instrument. The movement itself is not a charism, and its institutions are not charisms, but are means of grace which God graciously employs for the edification of the entire church.76 As means used by God, they cannot guarantee grace, or presume upon it, but we can humbly acknowledge that God uses them for the cultivation of charismatic and therefore vocational diversity in the Church. The same can be said for the particular vocation and mission of a given movement. Though the mission may “belong” to the movement, it is not given as its exclusive property, but is always an aspect of the mission of the Church. In fact, if the theology of charisms is indeed a helpful way to think about ecclesial bodies, we should expect that no movement’s mission will be exclusive and particular to itself. Rather, the mission of a particular movement will always be the mission of God, to which the Church itself is called. In other words, if the Paulist mission is ____________________________________ 76 In a more general sense, one might describe a particular movement itself as “a gift,” (i.e., that it contributes something positive to the universal Church) but, as I will argue at the beginning of chapter II.4, such “gifts,” defined in this broad way, can and should be distinguished from “charisms.” [ Page ] 100 the evangelization of North America, this does not mean that any absolute distinction can be made between the Paulist mission and the Church’s mission (even though a distinction is made between movement and church). The vocational obligation which follows from a genuine charism will always be an obligation which reflects the Church’s mission itself. In a similar way, there are aspects of Christian vocation that are common to all believers, even though some have a particular charism which gifts them in that area. Evangelism is the task of every Christian, but not all have a specific charism for evangelism. Thus, the charism of an evangelist does not mean that the evangelist is exclusively granted a vocation to evangelize, but that the evangelist has a particular vocation of evangelism, enabled by the charism of an evangelist. Others do not thereby give up on the task of evangelism, but rather, those with a special vocation for evangelization are gifted and called to specialize in the evangelistic task, and they therefore serve as a focal point and reminder for the whole church of its common vocation to evangelize. The same can be said of movements formed around the charism of evangelism - their particular vocation is an intensified instance of the vocation of the whole church. In this way, the various missions of these charismatic movements are not peripheral to the Church’s mission, but are at the very heart of the Church’s mission.77 This gives all the more reason to stress the interdependence of movement and church. The gifts are gifts given to the Church as a whole, and the particular mission of any movement is but an aspect of the Church’s mission. __________________________________________ 77 In terms of religious institutes and the Catholic Church, this is how Gambari puts it: “So that the Church will be faithful to her vocation and mission, she asks us to be faithful to our vocation and to the mission of our institute; these are the vocation and mission of the Church herself.” Gambari, Journey Toward Renewal: Meditations on the Renewal of the Religious Life, 54. On this point, see also J.M.R. Tillard, “Religious Life in the Mystery of the Church,” Review for Religious 22 (1963): 614-633. [ Page ] 101 CHAPTER II.4 CHARISMS, UNITY, DIVERSITY, AND DIVISION CHARISMS AND GIFTS IN THE DIVIDED CHURCH My argument to this point has made it clear that I do not believe that the theology of ecclesial charisms can be used with a broad brush to explain the diversity of all discreet ecclesial bodies, and it certainly cannot be used as a justification for separation in the Church. In order to avoid confusion, however, I must return to an observation I made in chapter II.1, regarding a necessary distinction between the use of the term “gifts” in a general sense as applied to separated churches, and the specific meaning of “ecclesial charisms.” It is certainly the case that ecumenical dialogue has shown that many aspects of Christian diversity are indeed complementary, and can be seen to be “gifts” which our separated traditions can exchange with one another.1 Approaching ecumenism as a “gift exchange” is a fruitful and appropriate means of sorting through ecumenical divisions, and discovering how some of our differences are in fact able to enrich the faith, life, and witness of the whole church. Indeed, since all that we have is received from God (1 Cor. 4:7), we can rightly call all any grace discovered in any area of ecclesial life a “gift.” However, a distinction should be made between these “gifts” in a general sense and the diverse vocational charisms of which Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 12 and Ephesians 4. When w speak in a general sense of our ecumenical differences as gifts, we are referring to those differences amongst the various Christian traditions which are found to be complementary aspects of the one Christian faith, and which we therefore believe to be gracious endowments of the Holy Spirit, given through the providential shaping of our separated histories. These might be particular insights into the gospel, or particular emphases of our common faith which have ______________________________________ 1 See my discussion of this in chapter II.1 pp. 40-41 and note 81. [ Page ] 102 been preserved with greater clarity by one tradition or another. We rightly call these differences “gifts,” because in them we recognize that God has not abandoned the Church, even in our divisions, but has been graciously present among us in our various traditions and histories. However, it must be noted that, for the most part, those who adopt this language do not propose that the “gifts” in question are justification for the permanent continuance of separation between the churches, as is the case with Cullmann’s proposal in Unity Through Diversity. The concept of ecumenical dialogue as a “sharing of gifts” originates in Catholic magisterial teaching, and therefore should obviously not be taken as implying a justification for ongoing separation. Rather, the potentially complementary nature of these gifts assumes that they are indeed given in some sense for the greater Church, and therefore that the complementarity of these gifts is predicated on the idea that their true value cannot be seen in isolation. Rather, these gifts, like charisms, are oriented towards unity, in that their providential purpose is only seen in the light of a future unity, wherein their complementary status might truly serve for the edification of the Church as a whole. Gifts of the latter type are those gifts which are normally called charisms: the diverse vocational gifts of the Spirit given to persons for the upbuilding of the body of Christ. I am extending this category to groups in the Church by arguing that there is a legitimate place for specialized vocational movements in the Church, which could be focused on the cultivation and exercise of a particular ecclesial charism. While, as noted in chapter II.1, we should not take the scriptural term “charism” in a strictly technical sense, for simplicity’s sake (and because it has become common to associate the idea of “charisms” with the variety of vocations and ministries in the Church) it is helpful to make a distinction between the two types of gifts, referring to the former type simply as “gifts” and the latter type as “charisms.” [ Page ] 103 I am therefore pressing for greater clarity in the way this language of “charisms” and “gifts” is used in ecumenical theology. However, I would argue that this distinction between “gifts” in a broad sense and “charisms” as diverse personal gifts of grace is implicitly present in major bilateral and multilateral dialogues, even if it is not spelled out in the deliberate way that I am doing here. Examples from the World Council of Churches, the international Catholic- Methodist dialogue, and Catholic magisterial teaching will make this clear. The literature from significant ecumenical sources will point to the distinction I am attempting to make, even though ecumenical dialogues can be criticized for a lack of precision in their use of gift-language as a way of talking about diversity in the Church.2 Indeed, it must be remembered that the term “gift” has a wide array of uses in Christian theology, including application to salvation itself, as well as some gifts which are basic to ecclesiality (scripture, proclamation, sacraments, etc.). Such “gifts” are obviously not complementary in the way that contemporary ecumenical discourse portrays a “gift exchange.” Acknowledging the diversity of potential uses of the term, I would simply like to note the distinction that is already latent in ecumenical theology between two types of ecclesial gifts: charisms, and gifts as complementary differences between churches. First, the historic World Council of Churches text, Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry, articulates a core of common teaching on charisms in its section on ministry, beginning with the affirmation that charisms are given to all members of the body for the upbuilding of the community and the exercise of the Church’s vocation in the world.3 It then moves on to a discussion of ordained ministry and episcope as charism-enabled ministries which exist “within a ______________________________________ 2 On this point, see Risto Saarinen, God and the Gift: An Ecumenical Theology of Giving, Unitas Books (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2005). Saarinen provides a helpful summary of historical and contemporary discussions of gifts in theology, as well as the social sciences and philosophy, and concludes that much ecumenical literature has used the concept of “gift” without taking this broader discourse into account. 3 World Council of Churches, Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry, §§M5, M7, pp. 20-21. [ Page ] 104 multiplicity of gifts” which the Spirit gives to the Church.4 Not surprisingly, since Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry does not deal directly with the question of the diversity of ecclesial bodies, it makes no clear references to “group” gifts or charisms.5 The World Council of Churches’ most recent attempt at an ecclesiological statement, The Nature and Mission of the Church,6 builds on the teaching of Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry regarding personal charisms as the foundation for a theology of ministry,7 but also contains numerous references to “gifts” of other kinds: the Church itself,8 the Spirit,9 the traditional “marks” of the Church,10 and various kinds of diversity.11 Even while it affirms that “diversity” itself is a gift from God, the text differentiates between the charism-engendered diversity of personal gifts of grace and other kinds of diversity which arise from different historical and cultural contexts.12 I will return to the question of the meaning of “diversity” in this text in the next section, but at this point I simply _____________________________________ 4 Ibid., §M8, p. 21. On the episcopal ministry: “Among these gifts a ministry of episkopé is necessary to express and safeguard the unity of the body.” Ibid., §M23, p. 25. See also §M32, p. 27-28. 5 The one possible exception could be §M34: “Apostolic tradition in the Church means continuity in the permanent characteristics of the Church of the apostles: witness to the apostolic faith, proclamation and fresh interpretation of the Gospel, celebration of baptism and the eucharist, the transmission of ministerial responsibilities, communion in prayer, love, joy and suffering, service to the sick and the needy, unity among the local churches and sharing the gifts which the Lord has given to each.” World Council of Churches, Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry, 28. 6 The Nature and Mission of the Church: A Stage on the Way to a Common Statement. 7 Although The Nature and Mission of the Church only uses the word “charism” once, it discusses charisms in the sense that I use the term at numerous points. See §21 (p. 8) and §60 (p. 15) for foundational references to the diverse gifts of grace given to all for the upbuilding of the body, and § 83 (p. 22-23), §87 (p. 23), and §90 (p. 24) for discussions of ordained ministries. 8 The Church “belongs to God, is God’s gift and cannot exist by and for itself.”§9 (p. 4). See also §34 (p. 10). 9 §75 p. 20 in the context of a discussion of baptism. 10 “The oneness, holiness, catholicity and apostolicity of the Church are God’s gifts and are essential attributes of the Church’s nature and mission.” §52 p. 13. 11 The text refers to diversity itself as a gift of God: First speaking from the perspective of witness, the text states that “the situation of the world demands and deserves a credible witness to unity in diversity which is God’s gift for the whole of humanity” (§3, p. 2); secondly, in commenting on the diversity of the New Testament canon, it argues that diversity is a gift of God to the Church: “Diversity appears not as accidental to the life of the Christian community, but as an aspect of its catholicity, a quality that reflects the fact that it is part of the Father’s design that the story of salvation in Christ be incarnational. Thus, diversity is a gift of God to the Church” (§16, p. 6); this is repeated in §60 with reference to charisms: “Diversity in unity and unity in diversity are gifts of God to the Church” (p. 15). 12 So, §60 (p. 15) deals with “diverse and complementary gifts” given by the Spirit “for service within the community and to the world,” while §61 (p. 15) deals with diversities of context, arguing that, “The communion of the Church demands the constant interplay of cultural expressions of the Gospel if the riches of the Gospel are to be appreciated for the whole people of God.” [ Page ] 105 want to establish that these World Council of Churches’ convergence documents contain a tacit distinction between charisms as personal, vocational gifts of grace and other gifts, defined in a broader sense, even if this distinction is not clearly spelled out. The same distinction between gifts which are shared in dialogue and charisms can also be seen in major bilateral dialogues. The international Catholic-Methodist dialogue provides a useful example, because it has had a particular focus on the Holy Spirit, and because the status of Methodism as a movement-become-church is relevant to my own arguments about movements and charisms.13 The earlier reports of this dialogue make little mention of either gifts or charisms, but over time, increasing emphasis was placed both on the gifts present in each tradition, and on the importance of a theology of charisms as the foundation for a theology of ministry. The “Denver Report” (1971) refers to “charismatic,” “prophetic,” and “special” ministries,14 and also makes one mention of “charismatic gifts” as part of the shared tradition between Catholics and Methodists regarding sanctification.15 The “Dublin Report” (1976) discusses gifts of the Spirit in relation to the theology of ministry,16 but it is the “Honolulu Report” (1981), which focused specifically on the Holy Spirit, in which the theology of charisms and other gifts of the Spirit begins to emerge as a significant theme in the work of the dialogue. The document speaks repeatedly of the Spirit as God’s gift to the Church,17 and discusses the variety of charisms as being given to “equip the different members of the body for ministry.”18 ____________________________________ 13 A recent summary of this dialogue can be found in Geoffrey Wainwright, “An Ecclesiological Journey: The Way of the Methodist-Roman Catholic International Dialogue,” Ecclesiology 7 (2011): 50-70. 14 §§23, 93, identifying Methodism itself as one such, along with Catholic movements of religious life, in Harding Meyer and Lukas Vischer, eds., Growth in Agreement: Reports and Agreed Statements of Ecumenical Conversations on a World Level (New York: Paulist Press, 1982), 312, 329. 15 §55, Ibid., 319. 16 §§78 80 99 103 Ibid. 357 360-361. 17 §§11, 12, 17, 31, 32, 40, Ibid., 369, 371, 376, 379. 18 §20, Ibid., 372. Christian experience is also said to include “charisms and sacraments,” (§28, Ibid., 375.), and episcope is identified as a charism (§33, Ibid., 376. [ Page ] 106 Numerous other “gifts” are identified in this report,19 but nowhere does it speak of ecclesial charisms or gifts of each respective church. The first such reference comes in the 1986 report from Nairobi, “Towards a Statement on the Church,” which, while advocating visible unity, states that “visible unity need not imply uniformity, nor the suppression of the gifts with which God has graced each of our communities.”20 While acknowledging that God has blessed both the Catholic and Methodist traditions with many different gifts, given “even in separation,” the report does not use this as an argument to support continued autonomy and separation, but rather looks forward “to a greater sharing as we come together in full unity.”21 However, a “relative autonomy” for specialized movements of renewal and reform is recognized by the dialogue members, who draw upon the history of religious orders and societies in the Catholic Church, and suggest that Methodism may be an analogous type of ecclesial body.22 In so far as these movements embody a variety of spiritual traditions which have proved helpful in the Church’s life, the church should “protect legitimate variety both by ensuring room for its free development and by directly promoting new forms of it.”23 Later reports from this dialogue continue the trend of discussing both “charisms” as personal gifts of grace for ministry,24 and “gifts” as the helpful spiritual traditions and practices ____________________________________ 19 Including “authority” (§32, Meyer and Vischer, Growth in Agreement: Reports and Agreed Statements of Ecumenical Conversations on a World Level, 376.), “conscience” (§43, Ibid., 380.), “prevenient grace” (§45, Ibid.) and the gift of marriage and married persons (§49, 51, Ibid., 382-383.). 20 “Towards a Statement on the Church,” §21, in Jeffrey Gros, Harding Meyer, and William G. Rusch, eds., Growth in Agreement II: Reports and Agreed Statements of Ecumenical Conversations on a World Level, 1982-1998 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans 2000) 587 21 §23 Ibid. 22 See §23b, “...from one perspective the history of John Wesley has suggested an analogy between his movement and the religious orders within the one Church...The different religious orders in the Roman Catholic Church, while fully in communion with the Pope and the bishops, relate in different ways to the authority of Pope and bishops. Such relative autonomy has a recognized place within the unity of the church.” Ibid., 588. 23 §26, Ibid. 24 See “The Apostolic Tradition,” (Singapore, 1991), §§ 27, 29, 30, 59, 60, 92, in Ibid., 602-603, 609, 615.“The Word of Life: A Statement on Revelation and Faith,” (Rio de Janeiro, 1995), §57, Ibid., 631. “Speaking the Truth in [ Page ] 107 which are embodied in separated ecclesial bodies,25 while also affirming the importance of movements of renewal as legitimately diverse ecclesial bodies (legitimately diverse as movements within the Church, not as separated churches).26 In fact, “The Grace Given You in Christ” takes the “exchange of gifts” as its dominant theme, and sets out “to discover the spiritual gifts with which each church is adorned.”27 In the report itself, “Catholics discover and name gifts God has given to Methodists,” and “Methodists do likewise with regard to Catholics.”28 The purpose of this mutual recognition of gifts, however, is not to justify the ongoing separation and autonomy of Methodists and Catholics, but to press the two ecclesial bodies towards greater communion, with the goal of full, visible unity as the end-goal. Communion involves holding in common the many gifts of God to the Church. The more of these gifts we hold together, the more in communion we are with each other. We are in full communion when we share together all those essential gifts of grace we believe to be entrusted by God to the Church. Methodists and Catholics are not yet fully agreed on what constitutes the essential gifts, in the areas of doctrine, sacraments and structures. We joyfully reaffirm together, however, the words of Pope John XXIII that “what unites us is much greater than what divides us,” and that our continuing dialogue is not simply an exchange of ideas but in some way always an “exchange of gifts.”29 ________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Love: Teaching Authority among Catholics and Methodists,” (Brighton, 2001), §§4, 20, 26, 27, 28, 31, 37, 41, 45, 50, 75, 95, 109, 114, 117, in Jeffrey Gros, Thomas F. Best, and Lorelai F. Fuchs, eds., Growth in Agreement III: International Dialogue Texts and Agreed Statements, 1998-2005 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007), 141, 145, 147- 150, 151-152, 154, 161, 167, 170-172. “The Grace Given You in Christ: Catholics and Methodists Reflect Further on the Church”, (Seoul, 2006), §18, http://www.pro.urbe.it/dia-int/m-rc/doc/e_m-rc_seoul.html, (accessed November 15, 2011).Joint Commission between the Roman Catholic Church and the World Methodist Council, Encountering Christ the Saviour: Church and Sacraments (Lake Junalaska, NC: World Methodist Council, 2011), §§4.II, 4.VI-4.VIII, pp. 44, 53, 56. 25 This is a dominant theme of the 2006 Seoul report in particular (The Grace Given You in Christ.), to be discussed shortly. 26 “The Apostolic Tradition,” § 31, in Gros, Meyer, and Rusch, Growth in Agreement II, 603.The Grace Given You in Christ §§17-18 27 The Grace Given You in Christ, §7. A similar approach is seen in the report by the Anglican-Roman Catholic International Commission, The Gift of Authority: Authority in the Church III. 28 The Grace Given You in Christ, §8. Methodists identify such things as the diversity in unity of Catholicism, the strength of Catholic Eucharistic theology, the historic episocopate, and universal primacy as potential Catholic “gifts.” Ibid., §§111-113. Catholics list such things as Methodism’s missionary emphasis, ecumenical commitment, emphasis on lay ministry, and tradition of church music as gifts, along with the gift of John and Charles Wesley themselves. Ibid., §§ 124-127. 29 The Grace Given You in Christ, §63. The quotations are from Ut Unum Sint §§20, 28. §64 continues, “We already share together in the Gift of the Holy Spirit, who is the source of our communion in Christ. Methodists and Catholics are already in a real, though imperfect communion with one another (cf. UR §3). We rejoice in the many [ Page ] 108 In all its discussion of the gifts of the Catholic and Methodist traditions, however, the document does not specifically apply the theology of charisms to ecclesial gifts. While a hard and fast distinction, such as I am making, is not found in these documents, the documents clearly address gifts and charisms in different terms. The Catholic-Methodist dialogue thus recognizes the importance of both personal charisms and ecclesial gifts, but stresses in both cases that the endowments have an organic interdependence, and should therefore impel the gift-bearers to greater communion with one another. A similar distinction is present in Catholic magisterial teaching, as can be demonstrated by comparing references to “elements of sanctification and truth” and “charisms.” The phrase “elements of sanctification and truth” comes from Lumen Gentium, and refers to those means of salvation which the Catholic Church already shares with other churches.30 Unitatis Redintegratio uses similar language, speaking of how “some, even very many, of the most significant endowments which together build up and give life to the Church itself, can exist outside the visible boundaries of the Catholic Church: the written word of God; the life of grace; faith, hope, and charity, with the other interior gifts of the Holy Spirit, as well as visible elements.” 31 These ecclesial “elements” were recognized by the Council as contributing to the edification of Catholics,32 and were said to be “gifts belonging to the Church of Christ” (already present in their fullness in the Catholic Church), and “forces impelling towards Catholic unity.”33 Nevertheless, the “gifts” spoken of here are clearly something different from the diverse vocational gifts discussed at other points in the Council documents, and referred to consistently _____________________________________________________________________________________________________ essential elements of the Church of Christ which we discover in each other’s communities. Our communion grows as we learn to recognize God’s gifts in each other.” 30 Lumen Gentium, §8, in Austin P. Flannery, ed., The Documents of Vatican II: The Conciliar and Post Conciliar Documents, New Revised Edition. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1975), 357. 31 Unitatis Redintegratio, §3, Ibid., 455. 32 Unitatis Redintegratio, §4, Ibid., 458. 33 Lumen Gentium, §8, Ibid., 357. [ Page ] 109 as “charisms” in magisterial documents after the Council.34 So, in John Paul II’s encyclical on ecumenism, the single use of “charism” refers to the role of theologians and faculties of theology in the process of ecumenical reception,35 while the “elements” referenced in the Council documents are called “gifts.”36 Further, the phrase “exchange of gifts” (commercium donum),37 refers, in this context, not specifically to “charisms,” but to gifts in the broader sense of all those insights or discoveries which one tradition receives from another during the course of dialogue.38 Thus a distinction can be made between “gifts” as complementary aspects of the Christian faith, and “charisms” as personal vocational gifts of grace, and this distinction is already implicit in significant ecumenical sources. In connection with the specific questions I am pursuing in this essay, it is important to note that ecumenical gifts may or may not have a direct connection to the original separation of the ecclesial body in question, because they may arise by God’s gracious providence at a later point in that body’s history. Charisms are often more clearly tied to the original founding of a movement, and therefore are directly linked to the identity of an ecclesial body in a constitutive sense, because of their vocational orientation. Of course, it might also be possible that the Spirit might endow the members of a particular ecclesial body with a charism after the body in question had been established and become separated, though most often this is not the case, historically speaking. However, even if this were the case, the charism in question would not justify the separation of that ecclesial body, but would impel that body towards integration with the greater body of believers, where its members could exercise their charism in concert with that of others. _____________________________________ 34 See my summary above in chapter II.3. 35 “Significant in this regard is the contribution which theologians and faculties of theology are called to make by exercising their charism in the Church.” John Paul II, Ut unum sint (Ottawa: Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops 1995) §81 p. 92. 36 §10 (citing Lumen Gentium §8) Ibid. 14. 37 §28 (citing Lumen Gentium §13) Ibid. 36. 38 Also §35, §57, [ Page ] 110 As I argued above, Oscar Cullmann conflates these two types of gifts by identifying complementary doctrinal perspectives as rooted in a particular charisma.39 This is problematic because gifts in a general sense do not necessarily imply the kind of organic complementarity that is implied in the theology of vocational charisms. In other words, this broader type of gift should not be interpreted according to the analogy of the body and its parts. Charisms are a particular type of gift of the Spirit, and they bring with them an inherent complementarity and interdependence which gives each charism an integrity in its own right and a place in relation to other charisms. On the other hand, gifts which we recognize in separated churches, such as the Protestant devotion to the Bible,40 are recognized as gifts precisely because all Christian traditions ought to receive them as important aspects of ecclesial existence. Most importantly, we can distinguish these two types of gifts by the two types of ecclesial identity which they engender in the early histories of the ecclesial bodies in question. In the case of an ecclesial charism, the ecclesial body sees itself as a specialized part of the Church, with a particular mission and calling. A movement born out of an ecclesial charism does not identify itself as the “true church” over and against the false church, but rather seeks to renew, enliven, and invigorate the existing church. On the other hand, many separated churches emerged not out of a particular vocation to be a specialized movement within the Church, but as an ecclesial body that was separated from its existing ecclesial context because of disputes regarding essential matters of faith and practice. Even if this separated ecclesial body’s founding convictions are now recognized as “gifts” by their separated brothers and sisters, they are gifts of a different kind than vocational charisms. Clearly a charism, by its organically interdependent character, cannot be used as a ___________________________________ 39 See above, chapter II.1; cf. Cullmann, Unity Through Diversity, 22. 40 Noted in Unitatis Redintegratio §21 in Flannery, The Documents of Vatican II, 468. and by John Paul II in Ut unum sint, §66, p. 77. [ Page ] 111 justification for continued separation. But neither can ecclesial gifts, of whatever kind, be used as a justification for permanent separation, though the non-recognition of an ecclesial gift may necessitate a provisional separation, depending upon the circumstances.41 Even if, for example, an Anglican emphasis on synodality is identified as a gift for all Christians,42 it does not follow that Anglicans must remain separate in order to maintain the purity of this gift. If synodality is indeed a gift to be shared, then it should be shared by all. Not all churches may be willing to accept synodality as a gift, of course, which is why the work of ecumenical dialogue can and should continue. The very character of synodality as a gift remains in question in the Church catholic, even while Anglicans may remain separated because others are not prepared to accept what they believe to be an essential gift, and because they themselves are not willing to relinquish this gift. Yet the claim that synodality is a gift in and of itself is not sufficient justification for permanent separation, since it is a gift which Anglicans believe should be shared by all, and therefore, should others receive this gift, the provisional separation which has resulted from its non-recognition would no longer be necessary. UNITY AND LEGITIMATE DIVERSITY IN THE THEOLOGY OF ECCLESIAL CHARISMS It follows from what I have argued thus far that a theology of ecclesial charisms supports a vision of church unity which is visible, organic, and historical, which is to say that ecclesial unity is necessarily institutional. This is not to say that any particular form of polity necessarily follows from my argument, but simply that genuine Christian unity ought to have an institutional expression. It should be visible, which is to say that unity is not merely a matter of an unseen spiritual bond between otherwise autonomous and separated churches. Unity should be organic, ____________________________________________ 41 Of course, in such situations, the “gift” character of the matter under consideration is itself in question. 42 This is the approach taken by the Anglican-Roman Catholic International Commission in The Gift of Authority: Authority in the Church III, §§ 34-40, 57. [ Page ] 112 in the sense that the various parts of the Church, both personal and corporate, are inherently interdependent and therefore must be exercised in cooperation with one another. The historical aspect of unity simply implies that unity ought to exist both in time and in space. This vision of Christian unity follows from several aspects of my argument as already outlined above. First, the theology of charisms points to the interdependence of the gifts which God has given for the upbuilding of the Church. This is true both in terms of the personal gifts exercised in the local church, and in terms of the analogically-identified corporate charisms, operating in a diversity of movements in the Church. In order for the charisms to serve their proper purpose, they must be exercised in concert with the plurality of charisms, mutually correcting, supporting, and edifying one another. Such mutual correction and edification is compromised if unity is conceived of in “invisible” terms, as a spiritual reality which transcends historical structures and institutions, and need not be realized in the Church’s historical life. Secondly, as I argued in chapter II.2, charisms and institutions are distinguished theologically from one another, but are inseparable in the Church’s life in history. This also cuts against any claims that true unity is an “invisible” reality, which need not be seen in any institutional form. Institutions are stable patterns of social interaction enduring through time. If charisms are to be exercised interdependently in the Church, they will necessarily be exercised in stable patterns of social interaction, which is to say, in institutional structures, because the Church is an historical body of persons enduring through time. Therefore, in order for charisms to serve the good of the Church as a whole, they must be used in some ordered set of relations which ensures their coordination with other charisms - and such a historically extended ordering will be an institutional ordering. Ecclesial institutions are necessarily charismatic, and ecclesial charisms are necessarily institutional, because ecclesial institutions serve as means of grace for [ Page ] 113 the facilitation, cultivation, and exercise of charisms. Thirdly, I suggested in chapter II.3 that there are two primary institutional types which can legitimately function as charismatic means of grace in the universal church: they are church and movement. Churches are characterized by the plurality of personal charisms, working together for the upbuilding of the body. Movements are characterized by their focus on a particular charism, and as such cannot function as churches, but seek to facilitate, cultivate, and exercise their charism in the context of the local and universal church. For a movement to remain a legitimately distinct ecclesial body, it must have institutional ties to the Church. Otherwise it becomes an ecclesiological anomaly, whether it exists as a separated movement or a hybrid movement-church. All of this points to a vision of unity which is historical, visible, and organic, which is to say, both institutional and charismatic at the same time. As I noted in the Introduction, however, the primary purpose of this essay is not to outline an exhaustive theory of Christian unity and diversity, but rather to address a specific question regarding structural diversity in the church, via a constructive argument concerning ecclesial charisms. Thus, my argument supports some specific claims about ecclesial unity and the variety of ecclesial bodies that can be legitimately supported by a theology of ecclesial charisms. The implications of this set of claims will obviously find greater coherence with some “general” theories of Christian unity than others. With that in mind, I will survey several major perspectives on ecclesial unity put forth in recent decades, in order to better locate my argument within this broader spectrum. I will begin by tracing the history of statements on unity endorsed by the World Council of Churches, after which I will summarize several models of unity, relating each to the theology of charisms. [ Page ] 114 LOCATING CHARISMSATIC-INSTITUTIONAL UNITY IN RELATION TO OTHER CONTEMPORARY VISIONS AND MODELS OF UNITY Clearly the perspective on unity supported by a theology of ecclesial charisms is in line with early statements on unity from the World Council of Churches. The classic ecumenical statement of the vision for visible unity is the oft-quoted definition of the 3rd at New Delhi, 1961. This dense definition includes common faith, preaching, sacraments, prayer, corporate life, and witness, but also states that unity means that the Church exists locally as “one fully committed fellowship,” of “all in each place,” and that this local church is also “united with the whole Christian fellowship in all places and all ages,” including shared ministry and membership.43 For the Church’s unity to be realized in the present, what is required, therefore, is unity on both a local and a universal level, with not only a recognition of the ecclesiality of other churches, but visible bonds of some kind, which would inevitably involve actual structures or instruments of unity, though “unity does not imply simple uniformity of organization.”44 Though the life of the Church is marked by a variety of gifts of the Spirit, the various confessions in the Church are not identified with such gifts, and indeed, it would seem that up to this point in ecumenical discussion, most were of the opinion that unity would require “the death of confessional identities.”45 ____________________________________ 43 “Visser’t Hooft, New Delhi Speaks, 92-93.This vision for organic unity has long characterized Anglican approaches to ecumenism and historically was viewed as the goal of the Faith and Order movement. Cf. Harding Meyer, That All May Be One: Perceptions and Models of Ecumenicity (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999), 94; Lorelai F. Fuchs, Koinonia and the Quest for an Ecumenical Ecclesiology: From Foundations through Dialogue to Symbolic Competence for Communionality (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 55-58. It is also consistent with Roman Catholic understandings of unity, though there may be disagreements between protestants and Catholics on precisely how such unity ought to be realized. Catholic commitment to this vision for the unity of the Church can be seen in the acknowledgment of “some, though imperfect, communion” (Unitatis Redintegratio §3 ) among all the baptized (Unitatis Redintegratio Flannery, The Documents of Vatican II, 455. and the desire of Christ for “the full and visible communion of all those Communities in which, by virtue of God’s faithfulness, his Spirit dwells.” John Paul II, Ut unum sint, §95, p. 106. 44 Visser’t Hooft, New Delhi Speaks, 93. 45 Michael Kinnamon, Truth and Community: Diversity and its Limits in the Ecumenical Movement (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1988), 79. See for example, from the report of the New Delhi Assembly: “The achievement of unity will involve nothing less than a death and rebirth of many forms of church life as we have known them.” Visser’t Hooft, [ Page ] 115 In subsequent statements of the World Council of Churches, a conscious effort was made to place more emphasis on diversity as contributing to the full visible communion of the Church.46 At Uppsala in 1968 the emphasis was on “the quest for diversity” as an integral part of the Church’s catholicity, and in 1975 the Nairobi Assembly endorsed a vision of the Church as a communion of churches in which the “special gifts given to each member and to each local church” are valued as a reflection of trinitarian diversity,47 though still advocating for “a kind of death which threatens the denominational identity of its members.”48 Thus far, the understanding of unity proposed in these WCC statements is generally in agreement with the implications of my argument regarding ecclesial charisms: Unity is visible and organic, and involves diverse gifts, though these gifts are inherently limited by the gifts of others and the unity of the body as a whole.49 The 1983 Assembly at Vancouver continued the trend of affirming the value of diversity, but it was in the 1991 Canberra Assembly that moved to what seems to be a much more minimalistic view of “illegitimate” diversity. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ New Delhi Speaks, 93-94. See also the report on unity from Evanston, 1954: “.. .when churches, in their actual historical situations, reach a point of readiness and a time of decision, then their witnessing may require obedience unto death.” See The Evanston Report: The Second Assembly of the World Council of Churches, 1954 (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1955), 88. Evanston had also attempted to make use of the idea of charisms as a way of distinguishing legitimate diversity from division, thought the idea was not explored in any detail: “There is diversity which is not sinful but good because it reflects both the diversities of gifts of the Spirit in the one body and diversities of creation by the one Creator. But when diversity disrupts the manifest unity of the body, then it changes its quality and becomes sinful division.” W. A. Visser’t Hooft, ed., The Evanston Report: The Second Assembly of the World Council of Churches 1954 (New York: Harper & Brothers 1955) 87. 46 The shift is helpfully summarized in Michael Kinnamon, The Vision of the Ecumenical Movement and How it has been Impoverished by its Friends (St Louis: Chalice Press 2003) 55-58 47 “Report of Section II: What Unity Requires,” §4, in David M Paton, ed., Breaking Barriers: Nairobi 1975. The Official Report of the Fifth Assembly of the World Council of Churches (London: SPCK, 1976), 60. This was preceded by the Faith and Order Conference on “Concepts of Unity and Models of Union,” which met in Salamanca in 1973, and elaborated on New Delhi’s definition by speaking of the Church universal as “a conciliar fellowship of local churches which are themselves truly united.” See Günther Gassmann, ed., Documentary History of Faith and Order, 1963-1993 (Geneva: WCC Publications, 1993), 37. 48 Paton, Breaking Barriers, §10, p. 63. See also Meyer, That All May Be One, 49-54; William G. Rusch, “A Survey of Ecumenical Reflection About Unity,” in he Ecumenical Future: Background Papers for “in One Body Through the Cross: he Princeton Proposal for Christian Unity” (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans 2004) 6. 49 I am not arguing that these WCC statements support my proposals regarding ecclesial charisms, but simply that their claims regarding Christian unity are consistent with the implications of my argument concerning charisms. [ Page ] 116 Diversities which are rooted in theological traditions, various cultural, ethnic, or historical contacts are integral to the nature of communion; yet there are limits to diversity. Diversity is illegitimate when, for instance, it makes impossible the common confession of Jesus Christ as God and Saviour the same yesterday, today, and forever (Heb.13:8); and salvation and the final destiny of humanity as proclaimed in holy scripture and preached by the apostolic community. In communion diversities are brought together in harmony as gifts of the Holy Spirit, contributing to the richness and fullness of the Church of God.50 One can see how this minimal understanding of the limits of diversity lessens the emphasis on visible, organic unity. Most importantly, “diversities” themselves are now considered to be “gifts of the Holy Spirit,” so long as they do not “make impossible” the confession of Christ as Lord and the proclamation of the gospel. While the Nairobi report can be said to be an elaboration on the vision of the New Delhi report, this later statement from Canberra clearly represents a shift in thinking regarding the way confessional diversity is conceived. From the perspective of ecclesial charisms, the Canberra report relies on an understanding of “gifts” which is too diffuse. It assumes that any diversity which does not make confession of Christ’s lordship impossible is a gift, and in so doing, does not recognize the inherent positive drive towards unity that is essential for the proper exercise of any true charism. The Nature and Mission of the Church continues with the emphasis on the importance of diversity as contributing to the richness of ecclesial unity.51 This document is more specific than previous reports, as noted above, in clearly differentiating personal charisms from diversities which arise from varying historical and cultural contexts.52 While The Nature and Mission of the ________________________________ 50 “The Unity of the Church as Koinonia: Gift and Calling,” §2.2, in Michael Kinnamon, ed., Signs of the Spirit: Official Report, Seventh Assembly of the World Council of Churches, Canberra, Australia, 7-20 February 1991 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1991), 173. 51 See especially, §16 uses the diversity of the New Testament canon as the basis for arguing that “diversity is a gift of God,” and §60: “Diversity in unity and unity in diversity are gifts of God to the Church.” The Nature and Mission of the Church: A Stage on the Way to a Common Statement 6 15 52 See above, pp. 3-4 and note 11; cf. Ibid., §§ 60-61, p. 15. [ Page ] 117 Church attempts to emphasize both unity and diversity,53 the document also acknowledges that the churches are not yet of one mind as to the “limits of diversity,” and that there continue to be significant differences among them as to how diversity contributes to communion.54 While the distinction between charisms and contextual diversity is helpful, the document, because it is a “convergence” text, does not offer a more coherent explanation of unity and diversity. In all of these proposals, the vision for the “confessional identities” has moved from New Delhi’s call to “death and rebirth” to a vision which could be called “preservation with some purification.” Some observers, such as Harding Meyer and William Rusch, insist that the increased emphasis on diversity which was articulated in various ecumenical statements after New Delhi is nevertheless consistent with the New Delhi statement.55 However, I am not alone in suggesting that the increased emphasis on diversity is a problematic departure. From the “evangelical-catholic” perspective, The Princeton Proposal begins by decrying what the signatories term a sinful “retreat” from the vision as articulated at New Delhi, and calling the churches to repent and return the goal of full visible unity to its rightful place as the goal of ecumenical engagement.56 Michael Kinnamon, who has been heavily involved in official ecumenical dialogues, raises similar concerns about a potentially sinful overemphasis on diversity as “an end in itself” in ecumenical circles.57 Fundamental to this critique is the claim ______________________________________ 53 “Authentic diversity in the life of communion must not be stifled: authentic unity must not be surrendered. Each local church must be the place where two things are simultaneously guaranteed: the safeguarding of unity and the flourishing of a legitimate diversity.” Ibid., §62, p. 15. 54 Ibid., 16-17. 55 In their view the emphasis on diversity represents an amplification and clarification of its meaning as worked out in the process of ecumenical dialogue. Meyer, That All May Be One, 47-48; Rusch, “A Survey of Ecumenical Reflection About Unity,” 6. Specifically in relation to the “reconciled diversity” approach, Meyer argues that that “organic union” and “reconciled diversity” can both be seen as models of unity which both correspond to an agreed upon understanding of unity as “one church as conciliar fellowship.” Meyer, That All May Be One, 124. 56 Carl E. Braaten and Robert W. Jenson, eds., In One Body Through the Cross: The Princeton Proposal for Christian Unity (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans 2003) 11. 57 “Diversity, understood as constitutive of unity, is a blessing. Diversity, seen as an end in itself, is simply another expression of the sinful human tendency to organize reality into homogeneous enclaves. If we start by emphasizing differences, then community is usually conceived of as peaceful coexistence, and it lasts as long as our interests are [ Page ] 118 that unity requires repentance on the part of the churches, as they seek to overcome the divisions which have so fundamentally shaped their corporate life, and indeed, their varied and conflicting ecclesiologies.58 Thus, these recent critics are advocating a return to the ideal of full, visible, and historical unity, wherein “confessional identities” do not have a necessary abiding significance for the life of the one Church.59 The diversity that presents itself in the Church today is not something to be celebrated, but rather “questioned, judged, reconciled, and reconfigured within the unity of the body of Christ.”60 The theology of ecclesial charisms could provide a framework within which some of this questioning, judging, reconciling, and reconfiguring could take place. Thus I would argue that the theology of ecclesial charisms supports the vision of unity proposed at New Delhi and elaborated upon at Nairobi, and could offer a chastened affirmation of diversity in the Church which offers greater clarity regarding the specific kind of diversity that ought to be encouraged in the one church. As these WCC statements were evolving, other proposals regarding ecclesial unity and the reunion of the churches were being put forward. One major line of thinking about unity is ________________________________________________________________________________________________________ perceived to coincide.” Kinnamon, The Vision of the Ecumenical Movement, 59. The Princeton Proposal makes a very similar claim at §23: “The apostolic message does not affirm diversity for its own sake.” Braaten and Jenson, In One Body Through the Cross, 28. 58 This is the conclusion of Reno’s argument, after he has established how the investment of post-Reformation ecclesiologies in division is at the root of their ecumenical “debilitation”: “we should recognize that these weakened traditions and the consequent inarticulateness about ecclesiology are spiritual challenges. Accepting the clouded vision that unity brings upon churches defined by division may be a necessary penitential discipline.” R. R. Reno, “The Debilitation of the Churches,” in he ecumenical future: background papers for “In one body through the cross: the Princeton proposal for Christian Unity” (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2004), 69. While not endorsing such a notion of ecclesiological debilitation, John Paul II’s approach in Ut Unum Sint is marked by a similar recognition that ecumenism necessarily involves repentance, and opens up “new horizons” which can be a challenge to ecclesiological assumptions. See John Paul II, Ut unum sint, §15, p. 20. Cf. Margaret O’Gara, “Purifying Memories and Exchanging Gifts: Recent Orientations of the Vatican Toward Ecumenism,” in The Ecumenical Gift Exchange (Collegeville: Liturgical Press. 1998). 31-35. 59 Indeed, denominational identities are highlighted as one of the biggest threats to unity in The Princeton Proposal. Braaten and Jenson In One Body Through the Cross 40-41 60 Ibid., 28. [ Page ] 119 often described as unity in “reconciled diversity.”61 The theological foundation for this perspective originated in the distinction between the diversity of “traditions” and the one gospel “Tradition,” set out in the report of the Fourth Conference on Faith and Order, Montreal in 1963.62 In this perspective, “the variety of denominational heritages” is considered legitimate “insofar as the truth of the one faith explicates itself in history in a variety of expressions.”63 One can see how this type of thinking is implied in the Canberra report and The Nature and Mission of the Church. While these varied historical expressions have contained error, “it needs to be seen that a heritage remains legitimate and can be preserved if it is properly translated into new historical situations.”64 In other words, as confessions come together in ecumenical engagement, their heritages can lose their divisive character, so that they become an enriching aspect of unity. Therefore, member churches can maintain loyalty to their confessions without relinquishing their ecumenical commitment.65 Thus all confessional diversity which falls within the limits of acceptable diversity is no longer viewed as a barrier to unity. In addition to the fact that this perspective can easily end up serving as a convenient justification for continued separation, “reconciled diversity” in itself leaves the problem of determining the limits of legitimate diversity unsolved.66 Key questions about the kinds of structures required for unity ______________________________________ 61 The concept emerged in the 1970s in the context of discussions about the role of Confessional World Alliances in relation to the WCC. See Fuchs, Koinonia and the Quest for an Ecumenical Ecclesiology, 63-65; Meyer, That All May Be One, 121-125. 62 Found in P. C. Rodger and Lukas Vischer, eds., The Fourth World Conference on Faith and Order: The Report from Montreal 1963 (London: SCM Press, 1964), 50-61. See also the groundwork laid for this perspective by Ernst Käsemann’s paper, delivered at the Conference: Ernst Käsemann, “Unity and Diversity in New Testament Ecclesiology,” Novum Testamentum 6, no. 4 (1963): 290-297. 63 Quote from a 1974 discussion paper, found in Meyer, That All May Be One, 121. This idea has his historic roots in the idea adiaphora or “matters of indifference,” as classically expounded in the Forumla of Concord, Article X. See Theodore T. Tappert, ed., The Book of Concord: The Confessions of the Evangelical Lutheran Church (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1959), 610-616. 64 Meyer, That All May Be One, 121. 65 “Confessional loyalty and ecumenical commitment are no contradiction, but are one - paradoxical as it may seem. When existing differences between churches lose their divisive character, there emerges a vision of unity that has the character of a “reconciled diversity.”” Ibid., 122. 66 See Fuchs, Koinonia and the Quest for an Ecumenical Ecclesiology, 65. [ Page ] 120 are left unanswered. In principle, a more specified version of this argument could be integrated with a theology of ecclesial charisms, but it would require that the “reconciliation” envisaged would include organic union of some kind. As it stands, however, the way in which this perspective has been understood in ecumenical circles is at odds with the vision of unity I am proposing, because it falls short of organic union as the ultimate goal. The important proposal put forward by Hienrich Fries and Karl Rahner could be seen as a practical model which embraces a kind of reconciled diversity.67 In their proposal, the “limits” are defined quite clearly, in terms of shared fundamental truths, restrictions on mutual condemnations, and the Petrine office as a guarantee of unity.68 A positive enduring value is also placed on the separate structure, liturgies and theologies of the churches of the Reformation, such that they are said to complement deficiencies in Catholicism.69 However Fries and Rahner do not necessarily extend this enduring value to all churches, but rather conceive of Protestant churches as “the large churches, not the sects which split away from these churches.”70 As such, their perspective does not seem to cover the kind of movements which, in my opinion, are properly addressed by the theology of ecclesial charisms, many of which have been labelled “sects” by the larger, established churches. Again, I would suggest that the unity proposed by Fries and Rahner is not as robust as that envisaged by the theology of ecclesial charisms. A related but distinct concept of unity which has emerged recently is that of a ______________________________________ 67 Their proposal, however, is primarily a response to the “intellectual-political situation” and the problems it raises for the possibility of finding doctrinal consensus, rather than to an attempt to find a way to preserve denominational heritage. Heinrich Fries and Karl Rahner, Unity of the Churches: An Actual Possibility (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1983), 26. Cf. Reno, “The Debilitation of the Churches,” 54-56. 68 Theses I, II, and IVa, in Fries and Rahner, Unity of the Churches, 7-8. 69 Ibid 48 70 Ibid., 49. [ Page ] 121 “communion of communions” or “communion of churches.”71 “Communion” in this context applies to confessions, such that a communion of communions aims to encompass both relationships within and relationships between confessional traditions.72 As a practical goal, this vision of unity looks for churches to “recognize in one another the one, holy, catholic and apostolic church in all its fullness,” and to express such unity “at the local and universal level through conciliar forms of life and action.”73 Advocates of this perspective preserve some aspects of the idea of reconciled diversity, but bring a more robust understanding of unity.74 Jan Willebrands developed the idea of typoi in this regard, suggesting that an ecclesiology of communion would allow “each church to embody its own typos of polity, liturgy and spirituality which is lived out in the context of a common heritage of faith, sacraments, ministry and service.”75 This concept of typoi, if properly developed, could certainly yield a catalogue of ecclesial “gifts” which the churches could share with one another, and which could indeed be preserved in a united church with shared ministry, sacraments, fellowship, and mission. As such, the theology of charisms is not necessarily in conflict with this approach. Neither, however, should it be used to support it. Willebrands idea of typoi is broader than the concept of charisms I am arguing for, because it encompasses a wide variety of differences between churches, whereas charisms are diverse vocational gifts of grace. In other words, in comparing Willbrands’s typoi and charisms, we are comparing different kinds of diversity. ___________________________________ 71 See Fuchs, Koinonia and the Quest for an Ecumenical Ecclesiology, 66-68; Angelo Maffeis, “Current Theological Discussion on the Unity of the Church,” The Church in Fragments: Towards What Kind of Unity? Concilium 3 (1997): 24-26 72 Fuchs, Koinonia and the Quest for an Ecumenical Ecclesiology, 66. 73 Maffeis, “Current Theological Discussion on the Unity of the Church,” 25. In other words, once churches recognize in one another the fundamental elements of the apostolic faith, they are bound together and should share in all aspects of the Church’s life, particularly in the eucharist, which implies also shared ministries. 74 Maffeis does not identify a specific office of oversight in his summary, but Fuchs regards oversight practiced by the bishop of Rome as a feature of the communion of communions approach. Fuchs, Koinonia and the Quest for an Ecumenical Ecclesiology 67. 75 Ibid., 66. Cf. Jan Willebrands, “Carindal Willebrands’ Address in Cambridge, England, January 18, 1970,” in Called to Full Unity: Documents on Anglican-Roman Catholic Relations, 1966-1983, ed. Joseph W. Witmer and J. Robert. Wright (Washington: United States, 1986), 45-56. [ Page ] 122 Another vision of unity can be found in the federalist model, which has deep historical roots and continues to have an enduring appeal among some Protestant groups.76 The basic features of such a model of unity, as noted by Meyer, are a) a focus on common action among separated churches and b) the continuing independence of the churches involved in the union.77 Historically, this perspective has found a home among evangelical ecumenists,78 as well as among the “Life and Work” stream of the early ecumenical movement.79 An important distinction must be made between those who advocate for this approach as a provisional step on the way to a more robust united church (such as was the traditional thinking with regard to the World Council of Churches), and those who see such a federation as the ultimate goal of ecumenism. From what I have argued thus far, it is clear that a federalist vision of unity, if proposed as the realization of Christian unity, will be judged inadequate in the light of the ecclesiological implications of the theology of ecclesial charisms, precisely because this approach presupposes the continuing existence of independent separated churches, rather than holding out ecclesial interdependence as the ultimate goal. Evangelical engagements with ecclesiology and questions of unity in the past few decades also tend, for the most part, to give precedence to a federal vision of unity.80 Generally ____________________________________ 76 For brief summaries, see Meyer, That All May Be One, 81-88; Fuchs, Koinonia and the Quest for an Ecumenical Ecclesiology, 59-60. 77 Meyer, That All May Be One, 82-83. 78 The most prominent example would be the nineteenth century Evangelical Alliance, but we could also consider numerous other pan-denominational organizations which were based on the same presuppositions. For an historical overview see Ruth Rouse, “Voluntary Movements and the Changing Ecumenical Climate,” in A History of the Ecumenical Movement, 1517-1948, ed. R. Rouse and S. C. Neill (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1954), 309-351. 79 Meyer, That All May Be One, 81; Fuchs, Koinonia and the Quest for an Ecumenical Ecclesiology, 59. See also the two chapters by Nils Karlström in R. Rouse and S. C. Neill, eds., A History of the Ecumenical Movement, 1517- 1948 (Philadelphia: Westminster 1954) 509-596. 80 For that reason, in addition to the fact that “evangelicalism” is a slippery and ambiguous category , it is certainly impossible to identify a unified evangelical position on this question. Roger Olson speaks of evangelicalism as a “centred set,” as opposed to a “bounded set,” by which he means that persons and groups may be more or less evangelical, but the boundaries of evangelicalism can’t be identified in an unambiguous way. Roger E. Olson, “Free Church Ecclesiology and Evangelical Spirituality: A Unique Compatibility,” in Evangelical Ecclesiology: Reality or Illusion? (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2003), 162-164. [ Page ] 123 speaking, evangelicals tend to be more comfortable with diversity and less concerned about unity, embracing “cooperative action” as a model of how the churches should work together on specific projects while retaining their autonomy. Typically this is underwritten by a concept of spiritual or invisible unity, which views questions of ministry and polity as being of secondary importance.81 However, this depends in part on the underlying ecclesiological assumptions of the individual or group in question. Some evangelicals will indeed speak of the need for “visible unity.” For example, Howard Snyder argues for the necessity of visible structures on both the local and universal level.82 Snyder suggests, however, in contrast to more catholic accounts, that such structures, while necessary and indispensible, should be thought of as “para-church structures for the expression of oneness, not as an essential part of the Church itself.”83 He is also keen to stress that truly “organic” structures will be flexible and functional rather than hierarchical.84 While stressing that diversity is as important an aspect of the Church as unity,85 Snyder nevertheless is clear that diversity “must not be made an excuse for the lack of some visible demonstration of reconciliation and true oneness.”86 Thus Snyder’s position is, in many ways, close to my own, although I am using a different definition of the word “institution” and would not wish to separate out the Church’s structures of unity by classing them as “para- _______________________________________ 81 For an interesting historical example of this line of thinking, see the papers on “Christian Union” collected in Philip Schaff and Samuel Ireneaus Prime, eds., History, Essays, Orations, and Other Documents of the Sixth General Conference of the Evangelical Alliance, Held in New York, October 2-12, 1873 (New York: Harper Brothers, 1874), 139-200. They include essays with telling titles such as “The Unity of the Church is based on Personal Union with Christ,” by Charles Hodge, pp. 139-145; “Christian Union Consistent with Denominational Distinctions,” by R. Payne Smith, pp. 145-150; and “Spiritual Unity not Organic Union,” by Gregory T. Bedell, pp. 150-154 82 Howard A. Snyder, The Community of the King (Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1978), 178-182. 83 Ibid. 179. 84 Ibid. 85 On this point see especially Snyder’s more recent essay, in which he argues that the “marks of the church” only tell “part of the story.” He proposes a complementing set of “marks” to go alongside the traditional four, as follows: one but also diverse; holy but also charismatic; catholic but also local; apostolic but also contextual. Howard A. Snyder, “The Marks of Evangelical Ecclesiology,” in Evangelical Ecclesiology: Reality or Illusion? (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic 2003) 77-103. 86 Snyder, The Community of the King, 179. [ Page ] 124 church” structures. Snyder’s proposals, however, are hardly mainstream in evangelical theology. The Lausanne Covenant begins a discussion of unity with the telling phrase, “We affirm that the Church’s visible unity in truth is God’s purpose.”87 Unity should be visible, therefore, but it is focused, on agreement in fundamental doctrine (truth), and in practical reality focuses primarily on the goal of cooperation and mutual support in the task of evangelization, rather than a vision for a fully committed fellowship. Of course, one of the leading reasons for the lack of concern with historic, visible unity among evangelicals is the prevalence of free church ecclesiology in evangelical circles, and the implications of free church ecclesiology for questions of unity.88 Free church ecclesiology is based on the principle that Christians are free to form assemblies according to the convictions of their conscience, and such assemblies, gathered in the name of Christ, are churches.89 This means that the existence of a diversity of separated churches is not a contradiction of the Church’s oneness, because unity is fundamentally a “spiritual” reality - a sharing in the Holy ___________________________________ 87 The Lausanne Covenant, §7, International Congress on World Evangelization, 1974. Available at http://www.lausanne.org/covenant. 88 By “free church,” I mean those churches which have historically been characterized by voluntary membership, which normally included opposition to infant baptism, opposition to state-sponsored churches, and opposition to centralized forms of polity. Olson, “Free Church Ecclesiology and Evangelical Spirituality: A Unique Compatibility,” 168-170. The opposition to centralized polity comes in a different form from the pentecostal churches, which operate on the basis of a free church ecclesiology but do not have the same heritage of struggle for toleration which has marked other free church traditions. So pentecostals are more like to raise questions about episcopacy as a form of “pneumatocracy” which undermines the sovereignty of the Spirit than to raise concerns about the separation of Church and state. Kärkkäinen, “Church as Charismatic Fellowship: Ecclesiological Reflections from the Pentecostal-Roman Catholic Dialogue,” 115-116. This is an argument made in Volf, After Our Likeness, 221-233. While some of the marks of free churches have less distinguishing potency than they did in the past (for example, because in North America, legally speaking, all churches are “free churches,” and practically speaking, most Christians view their religious affiliation as a matter of voluntary choice), the enduring ecclesiological significance of this perspective is found in the fact that the local church is conceived of as a voluntary association. 89 Of course, free churches, except in extreme cases (i.e. the Society of Friends) would include preaching, sacraments, and discipline as key marks of the Church. Volf’s definition of “ecclesiality” in After Our Likeness, for example, reads: “Every congregation that assembles around the one Jesus Christ as Saviour and Lord in order to profess faith in him publicly in pluriform fashion, including through baptism and the Lord’s Supper, and which is open to all churches of God and to all human beings, is a church in the full sense of the word, since Christ promised to be present in it through his Spirit as the first fruits of the gathering of the whole people of God in the eschatological reign of God.” Volf, After Our Likeness, 158. Nevertheless the foundational principle is that “two or three gathered in Christ’s name” are a church. [ Page ] 125 Spirit which transcends differences of polity, worship, and even doctrine, so long as fundamental Christian beliefs are upheld.90 This has immense implications for the value assigned to confessional or denominational identity. In fact, George W. Harper’s recent article on this topic suggests that the “intentional structural pluriformity of Christian denominationalism” should be seen “not as a source of sin, not as a mere reflection of ecclesiastical entropy, but instead as a powerful tool for the advancement of the gospel,” and goes on to argue that “rather than forswear that tool’s use, we ought to wield it all the more vigorously.”91 Such an approach to the question of the limits of legitimate diversity is obviously a contradiction of vision of New Delhi for “organic unity.” But it is equally at odds with the more diversity-oriented visions of unity which have emerged in recent ecumenical literature, because it questions the very need for any sort of structures of unity.92 It is, of course, therefore at odds with the vision of unity supported by the theology of ecclesial charisms as I have outlined it here. While the gifts of the Spirit should indeed, by their vocational nature, advance the proclamation of the gospel, they should do so in such a way as to promote an organic interdependence among ecclesial persons and ecclesial bodies, rather than the kind of autonomous structural pluriformity that is supported by denominationalism. ___________________________________ 90 Olson comments: “The unity of the church resides in the Holy Spirit, who unites individuals into the temple of the Holy Spirit.. .Unity also resides in common belief.” Olson, “Free Church Ecclesiology and Evangelical Spirituality: A Unique Compatibility,” 172. Cf. George W. Harper, “Breaking with Cyprian’s Paradigm: Evangelicals, Ecclesiological Apathy, and Changing Conceptions of Church Unity,” Evangelical Review of Theology 32, no. 4 (2008): 313-318. Miroslav Volf’s sustained defense of free church ecclesiology even goes so far as to argue that the universal Church is a completely eschatological reality, and that, therefore, there is no one church in history, but only the pluriform communion of churches: “The understanding just presented of ecclesiality and of its interecclesial condition exposes itself to the charge that it allows us to speak only of a plurality of churches rather than of the one church. And this is indeed the case. On this side of the eschatological gathering of the people of God, there can be no church in the singular.. .Within history, the one church exists only as the communion of churches.” Volf, After Our Likeness 157-158. 91 Harper, “Breaking with Cyprian’s Paradigm,” 319. 92 This tension is highly significant, given the rapid growth worldwide of churches that embrace a free church ecclesiology, and the prevalence of an operative congregationalist ecclesiology in popular North American Christianity, even among Christians in episcopally ordered traditions. See Volf’s discussion of the “congregationalization” of Christianity in Volf, After Our Likeness, 11-18. [ Page ] 126 Finally, I would also classify Oscar Cullmann’s proposal in Unity Through Diversity as falling under the federalist category. Cullmann, as I have noted previously, is the one major theologian of the past few decades who has explicitly attempted to create a theology of ecclesial unity and diversity based on the theology of charisms. Although his perspective is built upon completely different foundations than that of, say, a free church evangelical or a “Life and Work” ecumenist, he nevertheless suggests in Unity Through Diversity that the final goal of ecumenism is a “federation.”93 He later drops this term, suggesting that his position could be summarized better in terms of an “(autonomous) community of churches” with a conciliar superstructure.94 In speaking of a “community of churches,” Cullmann’s proposal clearly implies something more than an action-oriented federation, although he is still keen to distinguish his position from that of those whose goal is “unity in one body.”95 Although a hardening of confessional boundaries is not to be desired, neither should we pursue what Cullmann calls a goal of “integrism,” which “in its own way, disdains the work of the Holy Spirit” by seeking to integrate other confessions into one’s own.96 The result will be “real community of completely independent churches that remain Catholic, Protestant, and Orthodox, that preserve their spiritual gifts, not for the purpose of excluding each other, but for the purpose of forming a community of all those churches that call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.”97 Cullmann’s position is consistent with his own approach to the theology of charisms, but I have diverged from him at several points. First, I have rejected his application of the biblical idea of charism directly to Christian confessions, a move which I believe distorts the biblical ____________________________________ 93 Cullmann, Unity Through Diversity, 15. 94 Oscar Cullmann, Les voies de l’unité chrétienne (Paris: Editions du Cerf, 1992), 7-8. This book was issued as a response to the French critiques of Unity Through Diversity. 95 Cullmann, Unity Through Diversity, 14. 96 Ibid. 18. 97 Ibid., 33. [ Page ] 127 concept. As I argued, we can speak of “group” charisms only analogically, for charisms are, by definition, personal gifts of grace. This difference leads me to different conclusions regarding the types of ecclesial bodies which are engendered by ecclesial charisms. For Cullmann the differences in doctrine and corporate life between the major confessions are a reflection of their charismatic endowment. Without questioning the possibility of complementary differences in doctrine between major confessions, I have argued that this kind of diversity is not rooted in charisms, because charisms are fundamentally vocational gifts of grace. It follows from my position that charisms, being vocational and functionally interdependent in nature, can lead to the development of legitimately diverse vocational movements within the Church, but not legitimately separated churches. Cullmann suggests the opposite - that every Christian confession has a particular charism, and that these charisms legitimate the existence of the confessions themselves as autonomous churches. While Cullmann’s argument uses charisms as a means of legitimizing the continued autonomy of separated churches, my argument suggests that this is a distortion of the meaning of the term “charism.” If a separated church does indeed claim a charism, this should not be used as a way to shore up their autonomy from other churches, but rather should call them to pursue integration with the wider body, where their charism can function as a vehicle for diversity in the midst of real unity. In such a case, as I have suggested in chapter II.3, the normative form that the re-integrated ecclesial body in question should take would be that of a movement within the Church, rather than a separated church within a community of separated churches. To repeat, then, the theology of ecclesial charisms supports visible, historic, organic unity, as affirmed in the earlier ecumenical movement, and defined in the statement of the New [ Page ] 128 Delhi assembly of the World Council of Churches in 1961. While my argument could be integrated within certain versions of a “reconciled diversity” model of unity, it would require that the reconciliation envisioned be conceived of in terms of organic unity. The “communion of communions” model, likewise, could be consistent with the theology of charisms I am proposing, but I would not suggest that each communion be understood as possessing a particular charism, since ecclesial bodies characterized by a particular charism are movements, as I have defined them, rather than churches. Any version of the federalist model, whether it be the type of denominationalism commonly supported in evangelical ecclesiologies, or the specific proposal of Oscar Cullmann, cannot be reconciled with the theology of ecclesial charisms, because such models of unity support continued separation as opposed to organic unity. CHARISMS AND DIVISION The Church’s historical life clearly does not conform to the standard of Christian unity implied in the theology of ecclesial charisms. Many specialized vocational movements, which could have claimed a unique place within the Church precisely as a movement with organic ties to the Church, eventually separated and formed distinct ecclesial bodies. As noted in chapter II.3, this has led to the formation of some separated movements, as well as some hybridized movement-churches. There are many separated ecclesial bodies in existence today, particularly in the Protestant evangelical sphere, which claim, or could claim, a unique vocational gift of grace within the broader Christian community, and yet live in a state of separation.98 What does my argument imply regarding these movements, and their patrimony of charisms? An ecclesial body which separates and lives independently will experience the hampering of the exercise of its particular charism, as the ecclesial body in question begins to take on all the ______________________________________ 98 Clear examples would be the Methodist tradition, the Christian and Missionary Alliance, some Pentecostal traditions, and, of course, The Salvation Army. [ Page ] 129 functions of a local church - functions without which the community could not survive over time as an ecclesial body. That is, the movement, which began with a focus on a particular vocation, must now take on the tasks of catechesis, pastoral care and (in most cases) the administration of the sacraments to its members. No longer focused on a specific mission, the movement now begins to take on the functions and sociological identity of a church, even if, within its own internal culture and discourse, the movement continues to promote its specialized identity. The movement can no longer be a specialized vocational movement, and its own internal life will likely be marked with conflicts over its identity and vocation. Therefore, the movement’s status as an institutional means of grace for the cultivation of its particular charism will be compromised. At the same time, this separation leads to the impoverishment of the Church universal, as it loses the charismatic and vocational contribution of the separated movement. The contribution that this specialized ecclesial movement could have made to the Church’s universal mission is now called into question. While it may be that others within the Church universal will be gifted with the same charism as those in the particular separated movement in question, it is also clear that the Church’s charismatic life and ministry will be impoverished because of the missing contribution of those persons and the movement who are now separated from the Church. While separation may be the most obvious cause of such hampering and impoverishment, it is also possible that a movement may remain within the Church, and yet have the exercise of its charism hampered, if the charism is misapprehended by those in oversight. The movement may have its ministry restricted, or may be given tasks which do not coincide with its particular mission. Moreover, the discernment and coordination of charisms by those in oversight is itself hindered by the sin of division, in that the charism of oversight in general is called into question (in light [ Page ] 130 of a competing array of overseers and polities with overlapping spheres of influence), and in that division leads to exclusionary judgments about other Christian bodies which sometimes influence the discernment of charisms.99 Such are the primarily implications for the movements question as they exist within a divided Church, and, in some cases, as participants in the further division of the Church. At a more fundamental level, however, division contradicts the very nature of the charisms as unity- building gifts of grace, which are to be discerned according to their confession of the lordship of Christ, as I argued in chapter II.2. The separation of ecclesial bodies stands as a contradiction to the claim that Jesus is the one Lord and one head of the Church. If claims to ecclesial charisms are implicated in ecclesial division, then the charisms themselves fail to serve their divinely appointed purpose of building up Christ’s body. Moreover, the sacrificial character of charisms as first fruits offerings of the Spirit and figures of the cross of Christ is often obscured in the process of separation, as particular movements seek freedom from their bonds to other Christians in order to pursue their ends without the burden of living in servitude to their brothers and sisters. Yet, even in the midst of this charismatic hindrance, impoverishment, and obscurity, the separated movement-church and the misapprehended movement do not cease to be part of the people of God. This brings me back to George Lindbeck’s proposal regarding the Israel-like character of the Church.100 The suffering that the Church undergoes in the midst of this process is part of its witness to the faithfulness of God in judgment and mercy, both of which find their meaning in the gospel of Christ - that God mercifully chooses to be God-with-us, even in our sinful divisions, which are rightly judged as such. Charismatic endowment, therefore, is not a ______________________________________ 99 For example, in the next section, I will be exploring the ways in the Paulist charism of evangelism was interpreted to mean that Paulists were called to “convert” Protestants to the Catholic faith. Thus, the edification sought through the exercise of the Paulist charism was conceived in a way that necessitate the weakening if another part of the body. 100 See chapter, II.2, pp. 22-23, and Lindbeck’s essays, “The Church”; and “The Story-Shaped Church.” [ Page ] 131 triumphalistic guarantee of blessing for the Church or for any discreet body within the Church. The people of God are just as liable to apostasy and unfaithfulness as were the ancient Israelites, and yet, it was to apostate and unfaithful Israel that Christ was given over to death. Thus, just as Israel did not cease to be God’s people, even in the midst of her sin, schism, and the ensuing judgment, but continued to witness to God’s justice and mercy in her historical life, so also the Church continues to be the body of Christ, in spite of her continuing unfaithfulness and division. Just as the charisms of the Corinthian Christians remained genuine charisms, even as they were exercised in excessive and divisive ways, so the charisms of the divided ecclesial bodies of the Church today remain charisms, even if their exercise is hampered or obscured by division. On the basis of my constructive argument, therefore, I have laid out some significant claims regarding the effects of separation and misapprehension upon specialized movements and the Church catholic. The claims I am making have implications for the Church in its historical life, and for particular movements within the Church. If my argument is to have any real ecclesiological significance, however, it must be able to illuminate the history of particular movements, and offer a compelling theological interpretation of the ways in which those movements have served as means of grace for the cultivation of their charisms. Further still, it must be able to account for the effects of separation and misapprehension upon the exercise of charisms with reference to specific examples. For this reason I am now turning to two historical case studies in the next section of this essay. The Salvation Army will serve as a case study for the further investigation of the effects of separation on a specialized movement, and the Paulist Fathers will serve as an example of misapprehension. Both will provide evidence of the hindering of the exercise of charisms and the impoverishment of the Church catholic. [ Page ] 132 CHAPTER III.1 THE FOUNDER’S CHARISM Having outlined my proposal for a theology of ecclesial charisms, I will now proceed to test and develop my proposal by applying it to the history of two specialized vocational movements, the Paulist Fathers and The Salvation Army. As noted in the introduction, my method in this project is rooted in a definition of the Church as the visible, historical, elect people of God, identified by objective marks of the Christian faith.1 As such, my constructive proposals must be developed by engaging in detailed historical description of the Church’s historical life, rather than projecting an ideal church existing behind or above the historical Church. Since I have argued that ecclesial charisms can support a vision for a legitimate diversity of specialized vocational movements in the Church, I must now use the theological categories I have developed as a way of interpreting the conflicted history of specialized movements in the Church. I will do so, using the Paulist Fathers and The Salvation Army as case studies. I have chosen these two particular movements because they provide a stark contrast in terms of their ecclesial relationships, and yet they also present a number of interesting similarities in terms of their aims and the ways in which their corporate charism was hindered by taking on tasks which were not part of their specific vocation. The identification of the charism of a movement begins with the charism of the founder. As argued above (chapters II.1 and II.3), charisms are personal gifts of grace, and so any talk of the charism of a movement must proceed analogically, beginning with the charism of the person around whom the movement was originally formed. The movement then becomes the institutional means by which the charism is cultivated and exercised by other persons who also have the same charism. The charism of the founder and the formation of the movement are _______________________________________ 1 See the Introduction, p. 7. cf. Lindbeck, “The Church,” 145-165. [ Page ] 133 aspects of God’s providential ordering of history. The movement arises because the Spirit is gifting a particular person for a particular vocation at a specific moment in history, and then gathering a community of persons together around the same charism and vocation. Before discussing the charisms of The Salvation Army and the Paulist Fathers, therefore, I will discuss the charisms of William Booth and Isaac Hecker. The task of describing the charism of the founder is necessarily a biographical task. A complete biography of each founder is not necessary, of course, but it is not possible to describe the charism of a person without some attention to the way in which that charism was discerned, received, and exercised. This is particularly the case because a charism is a personal gift of grace, which is discerned by a person as they participate in the Church’s historical life. So we will see in the coming chapters that a theology of ecclesial charisms must proceed also by means of an historical account of the movement that forms around a particular charism. What follows in this chapter is not simply biography, therefore, but a theological account of the charism of Isaac Hecker and William Booth that has a biographical character. A methodological explanation is necessarily at this point, because I will be employing the language of charisms as a framework for interpreting the lives of two men who themselves never used the term, and I am thus imposing a somewhat foreign concept on their biographies.2 However, the term can be applied to these two movements in a way that is consistent with the way that the two founders believed the Spirit to be at work in their own lives and in their __________________________________ 2 While this method may seem anachronistic, it is not uncommon for theologians to use historical cases as “tests” for their theoretical proposals. A classic example is John Henry Newman’s essay on doctrinal development, which contains numerous historical applications and illustrations. John Henry Newman, “An Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine,” in Conscience, Consensus, and the Development of Doctrine (New York: Image Books, 1992), 42-385. We could also think of typology-based works such as Niebuhr’s Christ and Culture (New York: Harper & Row, 1951), or Avery Dulles’s Models of the Church (New York: Image Books, 2002) which propose a conceptual scheme which aims at clarifying an array of historical theological positions. Perhaps an even more relevant example is George Lindbeck’s The Nature of Doctrine: Religion and Theology in a Postliberal Age, where chapter 5 is dedicated to tests of his cultural-linguistic theory of doctrine against three difficult cases: Nicene and Chalcedonian christology, the Marian dogmas, and infallibility. [ Page ] 134 movements, as will be seen clearly from their own writings. Though they may not have used the precise term “charism,” it is a fitting description of the self-understanding of the founders of each movement, and the early community which formed around them. The primary means by which my investigation will be pursued is by a reading of the particular vocation of the founders of each movement. In chapter II.1, I argued that charisms are gifts which bring with them a vocational obligation - they are for the upbuilding of the Church through various acts of service or ministry. While, in a primary sense, all Christians share in the same vocation of building up the Church and witnessing to the truth of the gospel, it is also true that each Christian has a particular calling to a ministry within the Church, and that calling is a reflection of each one’s personal charism. As I noted in chapter II.3, those with a charism of evangelism are not exclusively tasked with the vocation of evangelism, since this is a common task to which all Christians are called. However, those with a charism of evangelism do have a particular vocation as evangelists, meaning that they focus themselves primarily on this form of service, and serve as a focal point for the church’s common vocation in this regard.3 The vocation of each founder can thus be used to discuss the charism of the founder, as there is an organic link between charism and vocation. Those whom God calls to particular ministries in the Church are called on the basis of the gifts of grace which enable them (and oblige them) to carry out their tasks. In other words, the charism is the empowering and obliging gift, and the vocation is the particular task in the life of the Church which is enabled by that same gift. Charism and vocation are therefore distinguishable but not separable, meaning ______________________________________ 3 See above, chapter II.3, pp. 99-100. I am using the term “calling” and “vocation” interchangeably here. As I noted above (p. 77, n. 7), Catholics have historically speak of “vocations” in relation to “states of life,” whereas protestants have typically spoken of one’s “vocation” as a calling to an occupation. My use of the term is more simply related to the Scriptural context of 1 Corinthians 12-14, as outlined in chapter II.1: the charisms are the concrete manifestations of the Spirit’s presence in a person’s life, and these charisms bring with them a calling to fulfil a particular function within the larger body. [ Page ] 135 that a genuine charism is always a vocational gift, and a genuine vocation is always a charismatic vocation. Hecker and Booth did not use the language of charisms, but both had a very clear sense of vocation. The task is, therefore, to attempt to identify their respective vocations, and thereby identify the particular charisms that are necessarily implied in their vocations. As will be seen, both men had the charism of an evangelist, though Hecker’s charism was that of an evangelist for America, and Booth had the charism of an evangelist for the neglected. For both founders, divine providence had a clear hand in shaping their lives, and gifting them in a precise way which was appropriate to the needs and challenges that the Church was facing in their respective contexts. However, I will also note how divisions in the Church create difficulties for the identification and proper functioning of each founder’s charism. THE CHARISM OF ISAAC HECKER: BACKGROUND ON HECKER’S LIFE As noted above, the details of Isaac Hecker’s life need not be rehearsed here, though a basic outline of his biography is necessary for orienting the development of Hecker’s own awareness of his personal charism and vocation.4 He was born in New York, the son of German immigrants, in 1819. His parents married in the Dutch Reformed Church, but his mother soon joined the Methodist Church, and was a faithful member of Forsythe Street Church for the remainder of her life.5 Although not much is known of Hecker’s involvement with the ____________________________________ 4 The most complete biography of Hecker to date is David J O’Brien, Isaac Hecker: An American Catholic (New York: Paulist Press, 1992). A great deal of biographical material is also covered in John Farina’s book, An American Experience of God: The Spirituality of Isaac Hecker (New York: Paulist Press, 1981). Two older secondary sources that are accurate but less comprehensive are Joseph McSorley, Father Hecker and His Friends (St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1952); and Vincent F Holden, The Yankee Paul: Isaac Thomas Hecker (Milwaukee: Bruce Publishing, 1958). The classic early biography of Hecker, written by devoted Paulist and Hecker devotee Walter Elliott, is The Life of Father Hecker (New York: Columbus Press, 1891). It was the French translation of Elliott’s biography, Le Père Hecker: Fondateur des “Paulistes” Américains, 1819-1888 (Paris: V. Lecoffre, 1898), that caused so much trouble in France, and ignited the “Americanist” controversy. 5 Caroline Hecker’s involvement in the Methodist Church is discussed in chapter 2 of Farina, An American Experience of God. Interestingly, of the four Hecker children, only one, Elizabeth, joined her mother’s church. Caroline Hecker seems to have maintained a remarkably tolerant attitude in matters of religion, and was quite content to let her sons worship in other traditions. Ibid., 28. [ Page ] 136 Methodists, it seems clear that he did have at least some exposure to Methodism as a child. Indeed, it has been argued that some of the Methodist ethos remained with Hecker in subtle ways throughout his life.6 By the time he had reached adolescence, however, he has decided that Methodism was not sufficient for the spiritual desires he felt had been placed in his own heart.7 From an early stage he seems to have had a sense that God had some special purpose set aside for him.8 This sense of purpose sent him on a restless journey, which led him to involvement in political action, participation in various Transcendentalist communities, and finally to the conviction that it was religion, and the Catholic faith in particular, that summed up all the genuine aspirations of human life. Later in his life, just before the founding of the Paulist Fathers, Hecker outlined his life in three stages, the political, the social, and the religious, the latter of which he saw as summing up the previous two. Several years’ study and effort in the way of political reform made it evident that the evils of society were not so much political as social, and that not much was to be hoped from political action, as politicians were governed more by selfishness and a thirst for ____________________________________ 6 The point is made by Farina, in his Introduction to Isaac Thomas Hecker, Isaac T. Hecker, The Diary: Romantic Religion in Ante-Bellum America., ed. John Farina (New York: Paulist Press, 1988), 4-5; as well as in chapter 2 of Farina, An American Experience of God. This Methodist connection, although somewhat tenuous, adds interest to the comparison between Hecker and William Booth, who had a much stronger Methodist background. 7 In a document submitted to his spiritual directors in Rome as part of his petition for permission to found the Paulists (this was 1858), Hecker recalled that he considered the various protestant bodies but “none answered the demands of my reason or proved satisfactory to my conscience.” In The Paulist Vocation, Revised and Expanded. (New York: Paulist Press, 2000), 52. More specifically, regarding Methodism, Hecker commented in 1887: “...in our time it had no stated intellectual basis. It was founded totally on emotional “conversion,” with the notorious exclusion of the intellect.” See “Dr. Brownson and Catholicity,” The Catholic World 46 (November 1887): 231. Farina suggests that his critique of the “intellectual basis” of Methodism (and other protestant traditions) was aimed not at the internal coherence of protestant doctrine, but more fundamental questions about the nature of religious faith, and the correspondence between inner religious experience and the external world. Farina, An American Experience of God 29 8 Certainly, this was the impression he gave in later life. For example, the opening statement in The Paulist Vocation, a handbook for Paulists made up primarily of various quotes from Hecker about his vocation, opens with Hecker recalling a brush with death during his childhood, due to a case of small pox. He reports, “My mother came to my bedside and told me that I was going to die. I answered her: “No, mother, I shall not die now; God has a work for me to do in the world, and I shall live to do it.”” The Paulist Vocation, 3. Of course, the pages of Hecker’s diary, which cover the years between 1842 and 1845, culminating in his conversion to Catholicism and his decision to enter the priesthood, are filled with relentless introspection and self-reflection regarding his purpose in life. To cite a typical example amongst the many that could be given, his entry for January 10, 1843 states, in part (errors in grammar and punctuation are reproduced as in the original): “Why must I suffer so? Wherefore am I here? If there is anything for me to do, why this darkness all around me I would not no I ask not to be happy...here I am left alone and I would cry with all my soul and heart what shall I do?” Diary, 89. [ Page ] 137 power than by patriotism and the desire of doing good to their fellow-citizens. Hence a social reform was called for, and this led me into the examination of the social evils of the present state of society...The desire of bringing these opinions to bear upon society led me to seek and inquire among several social institutions which were then inaugurated and professing similar aims. A couple of years were spent among them in this inquiry, when it became clear to me that the evils of society were not so much social as personal, and it was not by a social reform they would be remedied, but by a personal one. This turned my attention to religion which has for its aim the conversion and reformation of the soul.9 While this reading of his life may be a bit simplistic,10 it nevertheless highlights Hecker’s own understanding of his personal history, and reflects his strong view of Providence, a constant feature of his theological outlook throughout his life. It was not long after Hecker was officially received into the Catholic Church that he discerned a call to the religious life and the priesthood, and began questioning which religious family he should join.11 He ended up settling on the Redemptorists, and after an impulsive decision and a last minute trip to Baltimore, he received approval from the Provincial and left for Belgium to begin his novitiate on July 30, 1845.12 After five and a half years in Europe he returned to America a Redemptorist priest. Although he believed he was fit only for chaplaincy, he was assigned to mission work13after sharing his interior sense of calling to evangelize non- Catholics in America with his superior.14 The missions work was met with great success, and Hecker, along with some of his young Redemptorist colleagues, had a desire to begin an English ______________________________________ 9 The Paulist Vocation, 51-52. 10 Farina points out that the political, social, and religious circles in which Hecker moved during this period of his life were not so neatly compartmentalized as his three stage interpretation suggests, because the political and social movements in which Hecker was involved were clearly motivated in part by religious convictions. Farina, An American Experience of God 25-27 11 See Volume 6 of Diary, 299-326. 12 This period of Hecker’s life is covered in chapter 7 of Farina, An American Experience of God, 84-100; chapter 4 of O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 66-81; chapter 6 of Holden, The Yankee Paul, 103-120. O’Brien notes that Hecker was not normally an impulsive person, but rather “was noted for attention to detail, careful planning and methodical work.” However, “at the most crucial moments of his life, leaving home, entering the church, joining a religious order, Hecker acted suddenly and decisively and never turned back.” O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 81. 13 For an historical description of the Catholic practice of “parish missions” at this time, see Jay Dolan, Catholic Revivalism: The American Experience, 1830-1900 (Notre Dame IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1978); as well as his earlier article “American Catholics and Revival Religion ” Horizons 3 no 1 (1976): 39-57 14 The Paulist Vocation, 25-26. [ Page ] 138 speaking Redemptorist house in America that would focus specifically on communicating the Catholic message to an American audience. The Redemptorists, at this time, had only German- speaking houses in America. Hecker travelled to Rome to suggest this idea to the Redemptorist Rector General Nicholas Mauron in 1857, but was rebuffed and dismissed from the Redemptorist order, a move which also left the four other American Fathers who were behind the proposal in a precarious position. Hecker decided to appeal to the Pope, and after a long period of seven months in Rome, was granted permission to begin his own missionary congregation under the authority of a local bishop in America.15 Thus the Paulists were formed, in 1858, in the diocese of New York, under Archbishop John Hughes. Their original intention was to continue in the discipline of the Redemptorist founder, Alphonsus de Ligouri, and to devote themselves completely to mission work. However, they found that no bishop would support their work unless they agreed to take on parish work as well.16 They thus began, founding St. Paul the Apostle Church in New York City, while also conducting mission work around the Eastern United States. In 1865 the Paulists began one of their most important projects, the publication of The Catholic World, a monthly magazine which provided them with a platform to spread their message to America. The use of the press would become a defining feature of Paulist ministry. The next significant moment in Hecker’s life was his time spent at Vatican I as a peritus to the American Bishops.17 Hecker travelled to Rome for the Council expecting to see his progressive understanding of the Church vindicated, and was forced to reconcile himself to the ______________________________________ 15 On this period of Hecker’s life see O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, chap. 7-9; Holden, The Yankee Paul, chap. 11-19; McSorley, Father Hecker and His Friends, chap. 4-5. 16 See John Farina, “Isaac Hecker’s Vision for the Paulists: Hopes and Realities,” in Hecker studies : essays on the thought of Isaac Hecker, ed. John Farina, (New York: Paulist Press, 1983), 189-198. The issue of “mission” versus “parish” work is of fundamental importance, and it remains an ongoing tension throughout Paulist history. 17 The most extensive discussion of this period of Hecker’s life is found in William L Portier, Isaac Hecker and the First Vatican Council (Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen Press, 1985); see also O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, chap. 13. [ Page ] 139 outcome, which was quite the opposite in many respects. Hecker’s positive and affirming response to the social and political changes taking place in Western society led him to hope that the Council would avoid negative condemnations and instead turn its attention toward apostolic action in the world, rather than strengthening its juridical authority.18 As part of his reflection on the outcome of the Council, Hecker began to consider whether or not the Paulist vocation ought to be expanded to Europe.19 This idea developed into a firm and life-long conviction while he was on a sabbatical in Europe in 1874-5. Although he desired to stay in Europe and direct this work, Hecker reluctantly returned to America, after his Paulist colleagues pleaded with him to attend to matters at home.20 Throughout the later period of his life, Hecker suffered from a chronic illness, now believed to have been leukemia, and although he remained Paulist superior until his death, he struggled at times to carry out his duties with care and diligence, due in part to his illness, and in part to resistance to his expanded vision for the Paulists.21 Finally, two years before his death in 1889, Hecker published The Church and the Age, which encapsulated his expanded vision for the worldwide church, based upon his understanding of the Providential shaping of nations and races, and how the Church ought to relate to the various “gifts” which the Spirit has granted to the peoples in which she finds herself.22 ___________________________________ 18 O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 240. Hecker later reconciled himself to the events of the Council, arguing that its definition of infallibility settled the issue of external authority altogether, so that the Church could now focus on “interior” matters. I will discuss these developments in chapter III.3. Hecker had originally been among those who opposed a definition of Papal infallibility, and had lost interest in the Council’s proceedings as this matter came to dominate the discussion. On Hecker’s changing views with regard to Papal Infallibility, see Portier, Isaac Hecker and the First Vatican Council. 19 For a summary of Hecker’s early thoughts about European expansion, see Portier, Isaac Hecker and the First Vatican Council. 86-94. 20 See Farina, “Isaac Hecker’s Vision for the Paulists,” 201-213. 21 Ibid 204-213 22 Isaac Thomas Hecker, The Church and the Age: An Exposition of the Catholic Church in View of the Needs and Aspirations of the Present Age (New York: Office of the Catholic World, 1887). The first in this collection of essays was published in 1875 as Isaac Thomas Hecker, “An Exposition of the Church in View of Recent Difficulties and Controversies, and the Present Needs of the Age,” Catholic World 21 (April 1875): 117-138. This significant essay lays out some of Hecker’s mature ecclesiological and pneumatological proposals, and will be discussed in detail in chapter III.3. [ Page ] 140 With these major periods of Hecker’s life outlined, I will proceed to examine Hecker’s own sense of vocation throughout his life, with a view to identifying his personal charism. HECKER’S JOURNEY TO CATHOLICISM VIA TRANSCENDENTALISM In addressing the period prior to Hecker’s reception into the Catholic Church, we are faced with the question of whether or not there are charisms outside of the Church. Hecker was certainly able to look back on this period of his life and see how it related in an organic way to his later vocation as a missionary priest, but is it proper to speak of a gift of the Spirit in one who was not yet a baptised member of the body of Christ? I would suggest not. While the Spirit’s presence is not “confined” within ecclesial boundaries, those who are in Christ have been baptised with the Spirit, and therefore have an assurance of the Spirit’s promised continuing presence within their lives, which includes the charismata. The fact that charisms are specifically given for the upbuilding of the Church and are meant to function interdependently within the body, along with the fact that the Spirit’s presence is promised to the Church, suggests that charisms, properly speaking, are not found outside the Church. However, given that charisms often elevate and work in concert with our “natural” abilities and characteristics,23 we can, in retrospect, reflect on Hecker’s pre-conversion sense of vocation as an anticipation of his later charismatic endowment. In fact, the handbook The Paulist Vocation, which was created for the internal use of Paulist priests and novices, follows this pattern, with the opening chapter consisting of Hecker’s reflections on his vocation before he became a Catholic.24 A notable mention is made of a vision of a beautiful female angel, which enthrals Hecker and is taken as a sign of his vocation to the ____________________________________ 23 See chapter II.1, pp. 19-21. 24 The Paulist Vocation, 3-13. [ Page ] 141 celibate life.25 Hecker’s diary from this period, as John Farina notes, is filled with speculation about his personal vocation and the accompanying issue of church affiliation.26 We often find Hecker, the troubled young Romantic, asking for divine guidance regarding his purpose in life, and questioning his direction.27 I have already noted that Hecker later looked back upon this time as pivotal in shaping his views on the role of church in society, a perspective which was integral to his own personal vocation.28 Hecker was drawn to Transcendentalist communities at Brook Farm and Fruitlands in part because he was sympathetic to their high view of human nature, their focus on personal renewal and their small-scale attempts at social reform. But he parted ways with the Transcendentalists because he believed that the human person, and human society, did not have the resources within themselves to bring about true personal and social renewal. An outside agent was necessary, and this outside agent was the triune God.29 This change in his thinking was crucial to his conversion to Catholicism, which was to become an essential aspect of his personal vocation. Hecker had encountered a “no-church” line of thinking about social reform, based on a “degree” Christology which viewed all humans as inherently capable of attaining to the moral perfection of Jesus, and he had rejected it as inadequate, some time before he became Catholic. He had already come to see the Church as the ______________________________________ 25 Ibid., 5-6. See his diary entry from May 17, 1843 (again, I have reproduced errors in grammar and spelling as in the original): “In my state previous to this vision I should have been married ere this for there are those I have since seen would have met the demands of my mind. But now the vision continually hovers oer me and prevents me from its beauty of accepting any else. For I am charmed by its influence and I am conscious that if I should accept any thing else I should loose the life which would be the only existence wherein I could say I live.” Diary, 105-106. He does seem to have struggled, at times, with his attachment to a Mrs. Almira Barlowe, as can be seen in his self- conscious attempts to downplay his affection for her, even at times resorting to using male pronouns in reference to her. See entries for October 17, 1843 and March 30, 1844, along with notes 92 and 128, in Ibid., 142, 168. 26 See Farina’sintroduction to volume 1 of Hecker’s diary Diary 81. 27 See, for example, the entry from July 7, 1843: “Who is Isaac Hecker? What is he? Where is he from? Where is he now? Where is he going? What will he be?” Ibid., 116. Cf. also the entries from July 12 and August 13, 1843, Ibid. 116 132. 28 See the quote above 132-133 from The Paulist Vocation 51-52. 29 For a summary of the development of Hecker’s thinking on personal and social reform during this time, see Larry Hostetter, The Ecclesial Dimension of Personal and Social Reform in the Writings of Isaac Thomas Hecker (Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen, 2001), 140-148. [ Page ] 142 only means by which Christ’s life and power could be communicated through history: Has it not been the channel through which his life has been continued through the past into this our time [sic].30 Blot out the Church; have we any conceivable method through which we might have any connection with the life which he brought into the World. None other but a perpetual Generation of Messiahs as some pretend to be true...if we stand upon the same platform with Christ as some of our moderns pretend why is it that none of us have not in a very great degree arrived at the fullness of Love & Truth as Christ...How stands the case. Show me thy works and I will show thee thy faith. Ye Messiahs, Martyrs, Saints of this Unchurch Theory where are ye crucified stoned burnt spilling your blood like water from your nose.31 Hecker’s understandings of social reform and personal reform were both built upon the conviction, then, that reform could only be achieved through the agency of God in Christ, which was historically extended through the Church as the ongoing presence of Christ in the world. For some time, however, he remained unsure as to which church was in fact the true continuation of Christ’s presence in the world.32 The period leading up to and immediately following his baptism gave Hecker a certain amount of clarity and peace regarding his future.33 Upon receiving a letter from Brownson telling of his intention to enter the Catholic Church,34 Hecker put aside his objections concerning Catholicism’s “foreign” character and decided that he too would become a Catholic.35 In spite of his new resolve, he continued to question his own calling.36 He was beginning to turn his _________________________________________ 30 I will not continue to note all errors in punctuation and spelling from the Diary, as they are numerous. I have followed Farina’s lead in leaving the errors as they appeared in the original. 31 May 10 1843 Diary 103. 32 By March 10 of 1844 he had made up his mind to “study for the field of the church” but was unsure if it should be Roman Catholic or Anglican. Ibid., 163. Cf. the entry from May 10, 1844, Ibid., 180. 33 See his journal entries for June 13 and July 28, 1844, Diary, 206, 231. 34 The letter reads, in part, “You cannot be an Anglican, you must be a Catholic, or a mystic. If you enter the Church at all, it must be the Catholic. There is nothing else.” Brownson to Hecker, June 6, 1844, in The Brownson- Hecker Correspondence, ed. Joseph F. Gower and Richard M. Leliaert (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1979), 103-104. 35 On March 22, 1844, Hecker wrote in his diary that he was not prepared to enter the Roman Catholic Church because it was “principally made up of adopted and foreign individuals. Diary, 165. By June of that same year, after he had made up his mind to become Catholic, Hecker saw this as a reason in favour of his becoming Catholic: since all “worldly inducements” suggested he should become an Anglican, his joining the Catholic Church (“the most despised and poorest” church) would be a real sacrifice. June 11 1844 Ibid. 206. 36 See entries from July 24, August 28, and December 14, 1844, in, Diary, 227, 252, 268-269. [ Page ] 143 attention towards apologetic questions. In view of his conviction that it was the Catholic Church which was the necessary centrepiece of personal, political, and social reform, he now saw the need for “a full complete logical statement of the theory of the Catholic Church in the language of the day.”37 As for his personal vocation, after his baptism the focus shifted to the question of the priesthood and whether or not he should enter a particular religious order.38 Although he was initially put off by the Redemptorists, he eventually warmed to their discipline and missionary focus, and made his above-mentioned hasty decision to depart for Europe and enter the Redemptorist novitiae.39 HECKER AS A REDEMPTORIST It was during his time as a Redemptorist novice that Hecker first had a clear sense of his special vocation as an evangelist for America, which, according to Hecker’s ecclesiological presuppositions, meant that he was called to convert America to Catholicism. This immediately raises a particular problem, from a contemporary ecumenical perspective: Hecker believed that salvation was to be found only within the Catholic Church, and therefore in consequence he believed that the salvation of his fellow Americans depended upon their conversion to Catholicism. My normative judgment concerning Hecker’s charism will differ from his own perception of his vocation in that I believe his ecclesiological assumptions were mistaken, and that many of those Hecker believed needed “conversion” were already Christians and members ______________________________________ 37 January 14, 1845, Ibid., 290. See also his earlier remarks after visiting the recently-founded College of the Holy Cross in Worcester MA in Hecker to Brownson 24 June 1844 in The Brownson-Hecker Correspondence 105 38 This included conversations with his spiritual director, Bishop McCloskey, who took him to visit the newly founded Fordham college, and advised him to read biographies of Ignatius and Xavier - both missionary priests. During this time he also began meeting with Father Rumpler of the Redemptorists. See entries for April 1845, Diary 310-314. By May 2nd he was debating secular priesthood versus religious life. Ibid. 315. 39 On April 24, 1845, after his initial contacts with the “German Priest” Rumpler of the Redemptorists, Hecker was apparently unimpressed, writing “I must leave the German Priest.” This after he had written on April 19 of how the Redemptorist order is “quite strict in its discipline and seems to me of a very good character.” Diary, 312. However, by the end of the diary, he had decided against the secular priesthood, and although he is still considering his options, he notes that “The Redemptorists have been much in my mind.” July 27, 1845, Ibid., 326. [ Page ] 144 of the body of Christ. Given that a charism is intended for the building up of the Church, I cannot identify Hecker’s charism as a charism for the conversion of American Protestants to Catholicism. That would imply the building up of one part of the body by the tearing down of another. Rather, I will argue that Hecker’s vocation and charism was that of an evangelist for America, and that his nineteenth century Catholic theology caused him to interpret this calling as requiring the conversion of all Christians to Catholicism.40 Hecker had found himself unable to attend to the formal classroom studies that were required of a Redemptorist candidate during their “studentate,” and was eventually exempted from all classroom study, and assigned to serve in the infirmary.41 On May 30, 1848, Hecker wrote a personal statement and submitted it to his superiors, in an attempt to explain his spiritual state. In this statement, in the midst of his account of the profound contemplative experiences he was having, resulting in the suspension of his intellectual faculties, Hecker wrote: I believe that providence calls me to an active life: further that He calls me to America to convert a certain class of persons among whom I found myself before my conversion: I believe that I shall be the vile instrument which He will make use of for the conversion of a multitude of those unhappy souls who aspire after truth without having the means to arrive at it and possess it. But to convince me that this work will not be my mine and that I shall only be the mean instrument for the accomplishment of His designs He wills me to be deprived of all human means, so I shall not attribute His glory to myself.42 Hecker therefore interpreted his profound spiritual experiences as confirmation that he was set apart for a special work, and was being led by providence in such a way that he could not believe the task to be something which he had taken upon himself. Later in life Hecker recalled that during his scholasticate, the “Holy Spirit gave me a distinct and unmistakable intimation that I was set apart to undertake, in some leading and conspicuous way, the conversion of this ________________________________________ 40 As will be seen in chapter III.4, the Paulist community as a whole came to re-evaluate this aspect of its charism in the wake of Vatican II, moving from a charism of “conversion” to a charism of ecumenism. 41 Holden, The Yankee Paul, 135-141; O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 91-93. Hecker was allowed to continue his studies independently, and passed the necessary examinations for ordination. 42 Hecker, “Statement to Superiors,” May 30, 1848, cited in O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 92. [ Page ] 145 country,” but also indicated that he “had premonitions” of this calling before that, “in fact ever since my conversion, and especially while in the novitiate at St. Trond.”43 He constantly emphasized that this vocation must be ascribed to the miraculous workings of providence, given “the incrongruity of such a message to a man of my inferior endowments.”44 In spite of the fact that such a claim might have seemed extraordinary, coming from a young scholastic who was unable to complete his studies, his superiors seem to have taken it quite seriously, and treated his vocation as an evangelist as genuine. Thus Hecker recounts that, upon his return to America in 1851, he suggested that he be made a chaplain, believing himself to be incapable of a preaching vocation, in spite of the fact that he still believed God had given him special insights regarding the religious needs of the American people.45 He was, however, organized into a “missionary band” along with Clarence Walworth, Abraham Hewit, and Francis Baker, all American converts to Catholicism.46 The success of their missions work and the warm reception to Hecker’s preaching further solidified his conviction that he had a particular calling to evangelize the United States,47 and even led him to aspire to become “the first Yankee saint in the calendar.”48 As the missionary priests continued their work they began to see a need for literature which would be addressed to non-Catholic audiences, and it was in an attempt to fill this void that Hecker wrote two books in the mid-1850s, Questions of the Soul and Aspirations of Nature, both of which can be seen as an exercise of his vocation as evangelist to America. A brief _____________________________________ 43 The original source of this quotation is identified as “statements made towards the end of his life.” The Paulist Vocation 23 44 Ibid., 15. 45 Ibid., 17. 46 O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 99. The four, along with George Deshon, would become the first Paulists. 47 For some representative positive reactions in the press, see Holden, The Yankee Paul, 163. O’Brien notes that Walworth was the “scarier” preacher of the two, expounding on themes of divine judgment, while Hecker focused on devotional and catechetical talks. O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 102-103. 48 O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 104. [ Page ] 146 survey of his first book, Questions of the Soul, will serve as an illustration of Hecker’s personal sense of vocation at this time.49 The book raised Hecker to a position of national significance, making him “one of the most prominent Catholics in the nation.”50 In the book he writes to “the great mass of American youth, “who are fixated on the question of their “destiny” though they “have no fixed notion of religion.”51 Drawing on his own experiences in political reform movements as well as Transcendentalism, Hecker appeals to these youth as “one who has been where you are, and who speaks to you now, not of day dreams, but of actualities, of hopes realized, and of aims accomplished.”52 Using extensive quotations from his former Transcendentalist teachers, Hecker argues that human destiny is found in God alone, and in a life in which “all the faculties and energies of the soul tend to God.”53 He further argues, drawing on his own experience, that “each individual of the race has a special destiny, a definite work to do; and this work is a great, an important, a divine work.”54 Though Hecker writes with a specific class of persons in mind, that is, those who are earnestly seeking after a true spiritual life, he proposes that such persons are characteristic of the American population.55 Reviewing the noble experiments at Brook Farm and Fruitlands, as well as the Anglican Brotherhood of the Holy _______________________________________ 49 I will summarize Hecker’s argument in Questions of the Soul, but I will not do the same for Aspirations of Nature (New York: The Catholic Publication House, 1857) as it would only serve as a further illustration of Hecker’s personal sense of vocation at this point in his life. The book attempted to demonstrate the congruence of faith and reason from a Catholic perspective. It was not as successful as Questions of the Soul, and was criticized for its overly optimistic view of natural human aspirations. For a summary of the book’s argument and its reception, including a critical review from Hecker’s mentor Brownson, see O’Brien. Isaac Hecker. 116-123. 50 O’Brien Isaac Hecker 105. 51 Isaac Thomas Hecker, Questions of the Soul (New York: D. Appleton & Company, 1855), 10. 52 Ibid 15 53 Ibid 31 54 Ibid., 34. In treating this subject, Hecker also comments, drawing upon what could be considered an implicit theology of charisms: “...he gave also to the soul the strength, courage, talent, grace to do the work well.” Ibid., 34- 35. Hecker spends about three times the amount of time on the topic of “Special Destiny” as he does on any other topic in this book. 55 Hecker, Questions of the Soul, 55. Hecker later offers explanations as to why Americans in particular tend to manifest this desire to a greater degree than others, identifying economic, political, and geographical factors which make America a land that cultivates spiritual desire. Ibid., 57-58. [ Page ] 147 Cross, Hecker finds each wanting.56 The solution, Hecker argues, is found only in Christ, who as God-Man is able to provide “a perfect pattern of life” for humanity, and who makes God, as humanity’s proper end, accessible to humankind.57 Moreover, Christ has left the Church as his substitute and representative, in order that every generation of human history might find the path to the divinely ordained destiny of humanity.58 He then goes on to recommend the religious orders as the place for that “special class” of persons who desires to devote themselves completely to God.59 On the whole, Questions of the Soul offers an affirmation of what Hecker believes are the deepest spiritual desires of the American people, but suggests that these desires can only be met in Christ and his representative body on earth, the Roman Catholic Church. 60 This was Hecker’s attempt to express his vocation in writing, by setting forth an appeal for the Catholic faith in the language and idiom of his own time and culture. THE BREAK FROM THE REDEMPTORISTS AND FORMATION OF THE PAULISTS Hecker’s decision, with the backing of four fellow Redemptorist missionaries, to go to Rome and ask for permission to begin an English-speaking house is a further confirmation of his vocation as evangelist to America. Hecker’s desire to articulate a Catholicism that spoke to the American situation led him to the conclusion that the Redemptorist practice of operating with German-speaking religious houses was a barrier to the order’s mission in America. In 1856-57, Hecker, along with his American missionary-band colleagues, began a campaign in earnest to have the Redemptorist General, Fr. Mauron, give permission for the establishment of an English- speaking house, and eventually took the bold step of sending Hecker as their representative to ______________________________________ 56 Hecker, Questions of the Soul, 59-87. 57 Ibid., 94-95. 58 Ibid., 109-126. Hecker goes on to argue that the Protestant churches cannot fulfil this mandate. Ibid., 127-164. 59 Hecker Questions of the Soul 231-273. 60 Ibid., 275-276. [ Page ] 148 appeal to Mauron in person, in spite of the fact that he had already rejected the idea in writing, and had also forbidden American Redemptorists from leaving the United States on their own accord.61 Hecker, for his part, was so convinced of his own gifts and calling that he was prepared to risk everything, and seems to have left with little sense of the trouble that awaited him. He was encouraged by Brownson, who wrote on the day of his departure, praising his efforts thus far and arguing for the need for a direct effort to be made to convert non-Catholics, but also speculated that perhaps an entirely new congregation might be required.62 This was the direction that Hecker pursued, following his expulsion from the Redemptorists by Fr. Mauron. The original intent and design of the Paulist community will be discussed further in the next chapter, but at this point, some attention must be given to the document which Hecker submitted to Cardinal Bamabò and other Vatican officials while in Rome, in which he reflected on his personal vocation and the events which had brought him thus far in his life. In this statement Hecker recounts that he had indeed regarded Questions of the Soul and Aspirations of Nature as tests of whether or not God had in fact gifted and called him to work specifically for the conversion of Americans.63 He recalls that during his Redemptorist missions, his colleague Clarence Walworth had recognized his unique gift of bringing the Catholic faith to American audiences, by “removing prejudices” and exciting interest.64 Hecker’s conclusion is that the time has come for an institution that is specifically designed for America, and that he personally is “just the person calculated for such a work.” 65 Hecker goes ____________________________________ 61 The five Redemptorists who would become the first Paulists (including Hecker) had sought the approval of their trip from their American Superior, George Ruland, but in the end Ruland would not give his support, and in fact sent a letter to Mauron undermining their efforts. Unbeknownst to Hecker, this letter travelled on the same ship as he did, which sailed from New York on August 5 1857. See O’Brien Isaac Hecker, 125-130. 62Brownson to Hecker, August 5, 1857, The Brownson-Hecker Correspondence, 80-81. 63 “These books were regarded in my own secret thoughts as the test whether God had really given me the grace and vocation to labor in a special manner for the conversion of these people.” The Paulist Vocation 58. 64 Ibid. 59-60. 65 Ibid., 60-61. [ Page ] 149 on to state that divine providence has placed him in this position, particularly noting that his expulsion from the Redemptorists, which he maintains was unjust, had nevertheless occurred “in order to place me in the position to undertake that mission which has never ceased to occupy my thoughts.”66 He summarizes, Regarding, therefore, my early and extensive acquaintance among my own people, politically, socially, and religiously, with the knowledge of their peculiar wants, and their errors also, and the way in which God has led me, and the graces given to me, and my interior convictions, and the experience acquired and confirming them, since my Catholic life, and also my singular position at present, the question in conclusion is to know from holy, instructed, and experienced men in such matters, whether there is sufficient evidence of a special vocation from God for me to undertake such a work?67 Thus it is clear that Hecker himself had, at this time, a sense of a unique gift of grace and calling that compelled him to focus his life on the conversion of non-Catholics in America to the Catholic faith. Furthermore, the approval he was given by overseers in Rome and in America, and the way he was able to form a missionary community around the purpose of converting Americans, confirms that Hecker did indeed have such a gift.68 At the time of the founding of the Paulist Fathers, Hecker had identified a clear calling to evangelize America with the Catholic faith, and in particular, to reach out to those earnest spiritual seekers like himself who were searching for direction. Thus he wrote to his brother before he left Rome, “According to my judgment and views we have obtained all we had at heart - liberty to devote ourselves, and that without any restriction, to the great wants of religion in our country.”69 In summary then, Hecker believed that he had a vocation to convert Americans ________________________________ 66 Ibid., 61. 67 Ibid., 61-62. 68 Much more will be said about oversight and the way the Paulist charism was received in chapters III.2 and III.4, and in the following section in this chapter. For now I am beginning with Hecker’s self-undersetanding as a foundation for identifying his charism 69 Dated March 19, 1858, in The Paulist Vocation, 72. By “the great wants of religion in our country,” Hecker meant the conversion of non-Catholics. It seems as though his now-Paulist colleagues were not entirely in agreement with Hecker on this point, preferring rather to continue the kind of mission work among Catholics they had been doing as Redemptorists, but without having to live in a German-speaking community. O’Brien comments that the other [ Page ] 150 to the Catholic faith. After some conflict, his discernment of his vocation was confirmed by those who held the office of oversight in the Catholic Church, the bishops in America, as well as the Vatican hierarchy. How then, should his charism be identified? As I argued above, based on my definition of the Church,70 I cannot describe Hecker’s charism as obliging him to convert non-Catholic Christians to the Catholic faith. In my judgment, therefore, his discernment of his vocation as he understood it implies that he did have the charism of an evangelist for America. The Spirit had gifted Isaac Hecker in a peculiar way, working in concert with the providential ordering of his life experiences, so that he could communicate the gospel to American people. HECKER’S CHARISM IN LATER LIFE: DID IT CHANGE? Hecker’s behaviour and writings later in life raise some interesting questions about the constancy and continuity of his charism over time. Starting in the early 1870s, Hecker began to shift his attention from America to Europe, believing that the Paulist mission needed to be extended beyond American shores. His reasoning for this move was rooted in his understanding of America’s place in providential history. While serving as a peritus to the American Bishops at Vatican I, Hecker wrote home to his brother George: The mission of the United States in the order of Divine Providence is to solve in advance the problems of Europe...This movement, if we had a sufficient number of Paulists to preach, work, etc., with the spirit of our community, and could send them to England, France, Germany, and Italy, they would effect a change no one ever dreams of. They would be an element of reconciliation, renewal, and regeneration.71 ________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Fathers “were less interested in conversions than in more energetic mission work, and more active, efficient operation of the American church at large. Even among Americans, they were more concerned about the small, emerging Catholic middle class than with the New England intelligentsia or the masses of Protestant or unchurched Americans beyond the church.” O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 163. I will return to this dynamic in the next chapter when I discuss community formation, as it raises significant issues regarding the extent to which the Paulist community was in fact formed around Hecker’s charism. Hecker envisioned more of an accommodation of the character of their community, such that it would take up and adapt that which was good in American political institutions, rather than reflecting the character of European institutions, as Hecker believed the other religious orders did. Ibid., 167. 70 See the Introduction pp. 4-5. 71 Hecker to George Hecker, January 27, 1870, in The Paulist Vocation, 86. [ Page ] 151 By the mid-1870s, while recuperating from illness in Europe, Hecker began to make a strong push for the expansion of the Paulists beyond American borders, and began to claim that it was for this broader purpose that all his previous experience with the Paulists had prepared him. Rather than the conversion of America, he was now articulating the “fundamental idea” of the Paulists as “organizing the practical side of the Church in view of the needs of the age and the triumph of religion,” an idea which he felt now needed “to be practically organized in Europe in harmony with the instincts and dispositions of its different races, nationalities, and needs...” He would even go so far as to write, “Whatever light, grace, strength, impulse God may have given me and does give me, all turns to this point.”72 Hecker seems, therefore, to have perceived his own vocation to have widened as his life progressed, such that he was to take what he had learned in America and reproduce it in other cultures, adapting the Paulist communities to the particular needs and values of various cultures. Hecker himself was aware that this represented a shift in his personal vocation and that of his community, but he argued that the Spirit was leading him on to a greater and more important task, “more essential, more efficacious, more general, more universal,” and yet including the original work to which the Paulists were called.73 He was so sure of this idea that he could write that he had no desire to ever return to America.74 Although Hecker’s vision for Paulist expansion was impractical and was never realized, he continued to insist into the later years of his life, “I am in favour of extension into Europe, and I say, emphatically, I cannot help it.”75 Does this perceived broadening of vocation imply a change of charism for Hecker? ____________________________________ 72 Extracts from a private memoranda written from Europe during his illness (1874-75) cited in Ibid 88-89 73 Dated June 2, 1875, written from Europe. The specific type of document is not specified, but presumably this was a journal entry. Ibid., 96. 74 “I do not wish to cross the Atlantic ever again, and therefore wish to finish with Europe and Italy...My present experience in one way and another seems to have prepared me to lay a foundation for action that will suit centuries.” Ibid. 96-97. 75 Dated September 9, 1885. Ibid., 98. At this time Hecker was engaged in negotiations with Cardinal Manning to establish a Paulist community in England. [ Page ] 152 Hecker’s comments seem to indicate that he believed his vocation had genuinely changed, from that of an American evangelist to that of an international evangelist. Such a change would certainly be possible, and from Hecker’s point of view, was simply a reflection of the way in which divine providence was continuing to provide him with a particular gift and calling in response to the needs of the Church at that time.76 The problem with Hecker’s shift in vocation, however, is that his discernment was not confirmed, either by his own community, or any of his overseers.77 I will return to the issue of the Paulist community’s reaction to Hecker’s expanded vision in chapter II.2, but at this point I will simply note that Hecker was alone in his belief that he should remain in Europe and establish new communities there. As such, it is difficult for us to affirm that there was any real change in Hecker’s charism, even if he believed it to be the case. He may, possibly, have been correct, but charisms are not self-authenticating, and without some affirmation from the Christian community, we cannot know if a genuine change of charism had taken place, nor are we in a position to discern this against the judgment of the Paulist community and the Catholic bishops who knew Hecker personally. Therefore, there is no conclusive evidence that Hecker’s charism changed from that of an evangelist for America. THE CHARISM OF WILLIAM BOOTH: BACKGROUND ON BOOTH’S LIFE William Booth was born in Nottingham on April 10, 1829, and baptized as an Anglican two days later.78 Like Hecker, Booth had a father who was a nominal Christian, and failed in his _____________________________________ 76 The specifics of Hecker’s vision for the renewal of the Church in Europe will be discussed in chapter III.3. 77 See Farina, “Isaac Hecker’s Vision for the Paulists.” 201-213. 78 William Booth has been the subject of numerous biographies. The most important recent biography is Roger J. Green, The Life and Ministry of William Booth: Founder of the Salvation Army (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2005). Other significant recent treatments are David Malcolm Bennett, The General: William Booth, 2 vols. (Longwood, FL: Xulon Press, 2003); and Roy Hattersley, Blood and Fire: The Story of William and Catherine Booth (London: Abacus, 1999). Important earlier biographies are: Charles T. Bateman, Life of General Booth (New York: Association Press, 1912); Harold Begbie, The Life of William Booth: The Founder of the Salvation Army., 2 vols. (London: Macmillan, 1920); Frederick St. George de Latour Booth-Tucker, William Booth, The General of The Salvation Army (New York: The Salvation Army Printing and Publishing House, 1898); Thomas F. Coates, The [ Page ] 153 business, but received a nurturing upbringing from his mother. By his early teens, the family’s financial situation had deteriorated to the extent that William had to withdraw from school and begin an apprenticeship with a pawnbroker. He became personally interested in religion after being befriended by a local Wesleyan Methodist family, who brought him to the Broad Street Wesley Chapel.79 A pivotal turning point in his life came when American Methodist revival preacher James Caughey conducted a revivalistic campaign in Nottingham in 1846. Caughey’s fiery presence set Booth’s focus wholeheartedly to the task of evangelistic and revivalistic preaching.80 He was appointed a local preacher with the Wesleyan Methodists at the age of seventeen and began a circuit ministry, while continuing with his pawnbroking apprenticeship. The 1840s and 50s were turbulent times for Methodism, however, and the schism that led to the establishment of Reformed Methodism had an impact upon William Booth, who was not really interested in the issues at stake, but was accused of being a Reformer, and was therefore expelled from the Wesleyan Chapel.81 He joined the Reformers after moving to London, and at the urging of a businessman and benefactor, E. H. Rabbits, he became a preacher in that _________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Prophet of the Poor: The Life Story of General Booth (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1905); Richard Collier, The General Next to God: The Story of William Booth and the Salvation Army. (London: Collins, 1966); St John G. Ervine, God’s Soldier: General William Booth, 2 vols. (Toronto: W. Heinemann, 1934); Alex M. Nicol, General Booth and The Salvation Army (London: Herbert and Daniel, n.d.); George Scott Railton, The Authoritative Life of General William Booth, Founder of The Salvation Army (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1912); W. T. Stead, General Booth (London: Isbister and Company 1891). 79 Green Life and Ministry of William Booth, 11-12; Ervine, God’s Soldier. I:33. 80 On Booth’s relationship to Caughey, see Green, Life and Ministry of William Booth, 16-19; Norman Murdoch, Origins of The Salvation Army (Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1994), 1-16. In a moment enshrined in Salvation Army mythology, Booth is said to have made a “spiritual transaction” at the “penitent form” under Caughey’s ministry, resolving that “God should have all there is of William Booth.” Robert Sandall, The History of The Salvation Army (London: The Salvation Army, 1947), I:4. 81 The tensions were due in part to the fact that Wesleyan Methodism was an evolving ecclesial community, with a membership that was becoming more middle class, more ecclesiastically conservative, and less revivalistic. In the late 1840s, a series of developments in the leadership of the Wesleyan Methodists led to accusations of despotism and corruption, which were brought to a head in the so called Fly-sheet controversy. See Rupert E. Davies, Methodism (Baltimore: Penguin, 1963), 133-145. For a discussion of Booth’s relationship to these issues, see Green, Life and Ministry of William Booth, 44-49. [ Page ] 154 movement on April 9, 1852.82 His initial appointment to a congregation was terminated after three months by mutual agreement between Booth and the local committee that had charge of him at the time.83 Booth, having left his pawnbroking career to join the Reformers was thus unemployed. It was perhaps this state of desperation which led the devoted Methodist to make the rather strange decision of seeking a position among the Congregationalists, only to realize shortly after that they expected him to preach a Calvinist doctrine of salvation.84 He returned to the Reformers, and was appointed to a circuit in Spalding, Lincolnshire, in November of 1852.85 However, concerns about the lack of central authority in Reformed Methodism led him to depart in 1854, and join the Methodist New Connexion with an appointment as an evangelist in London.86 Booth was successful in this ministry, and it was most certainly his desire to continue in the role of itinerant evangelist. However, two years later, the Conference transferred him to circuit ministry at Brighouse. Upon his ordination in 1858, he was informed that he would be appointed to one more year of circuit ministry in Gateshead, and then he would be allowed to return to evangelistic work. Though he was successful at Gateshead, Booth was determined to do evangelistic work, and wanted to be free from the responsibilities of circuit ministry. Thus, _______________________________________ 82 Green, Life and Ministry of William Booth, 28-29; Bennett, The General, I:78-80; Begbie, Life of William Booth, I:112-113. Begbie incorrectly gave the date as April 10; see Bennett and Green regarding the corrected date. 83 It is evident that dislike for the discipline Booth received from the local committee was one of the main reasons for this parting of ways. That is, he felt that the Reformers had given too much authority to the local congregation. See quotes from both Booth and his future wife Catherine Mumford in Begbie Life of William Booth I:131 145. 84 Booth met with a certain Dr. John Campbell, who became an advocate on his behalf and got him admitted to the Training Institution at Cotton End, which would have secured him a position after six months. It was Booth’s strong aversion to Calvinism which caused him to abandon this route. Apparently, Campbell had been more reassuring than the admissions committee. ” Roger J. Green, Catherine Booth: A Biography of the Cofounder of the Salvation Army (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 1996), 47-50; Begbie, Life of William Booth, I: 145. 85 Glenn K. Horridge, The Salvation Army, Origins and Early Years: 1865-1900 (Godalming, UK: Ammonite Books, 1993), 14. He had a good reception at Spalding, and described the time as “the happiest eighteen months of my life.”Quoted in Begbie, Life of William Booth, I:145. 86 See above, n. 82. The New Connexion was governed by the Methodist Conference system, in which the annual Conference (meeting) had authority over local congregations and circuits. See Henry Rack’s “Introduction” to The Works of John Wesley, vol. 10 (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2011), 1-109; and Russell E. Richey, “Connection and Connectionalism,” in The Oxford Handbook of Methodist Studies, ed William J Abraham and James E Kirby (Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2009), 211-228. [ Page ] 155 two months after he was once again denied an evangelistic appointment at the 1861 Conference in Liverpool, Booth resigned from the Connexion to pursue a ministry as an independent itinerant evangelist.87 For four years the Booth family moved around England conducting revival campaigns, with varying levels of success and financial remuneration, before they moved to London in 1865. It was his wife Catherine’s growing reputation as a preacher in her own right that brought the Booths to London, but William’s future would also be radically altered by a preaching campaign in East London which eventually led to the founding of “The Christian Mission,” the organization which, after several name changes, would become The Salvation Army in 1878. Originally focused exclusively on evangelistic efforts using unconventional means, the Mission’s work included efforts at meeting material needs from an early date, though at this time these were considered to be of secondary importance. After a dozen years of modest growth, William Booth’s mission expanded rapidly during the years 1878-1890, a period which began with the change of name to The Salvation Army.87 88 Two further turning points in Booth’s life should be noted, as they will be examined with respect to the charism of The Salvation Army. First is the period of 1882-1883, during which Booth entered into discussions with some Bishops in the ____________________________________ 87 Green, Life and Ministry of William Booth, 83-91. Green corrects an inaccurate re-telling of the resignation, oft- repeated in Salvation Army literature, which held that Catherine stood up in the gallery during the Liverpool Conference, and exclaimed “Never!” as the Conference appointed William to the Newcastle-Upon-Tyne circuit. The story was told that William then met her at the foot of the gallery stairs in an embrace, and they walked out together. This account was originally circulated (with a dramatic illustration) in Frederick Booth-Tucker’s biography, The Life of Catherine Booth (New York: Fleming H. Revell, 1892), I:289-290. As Green notes, however, the gallery had been cleared before the vote took place, and Booth did in fact go to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, resigning two months later having tested the waters regarding his prospects as an independent evangelist 88 Salvationist historians have normally attributed the rapid growth of their movement between 1878-1890 to the change of name and structure, and often concluded that such growth was a sign of divine blessing upon their embrace of militant symbolism and structure. See, for example, Sandall, History of The Salvation Army, II: 1-5. For an alternative account, which sees efforts prior to 1877 as “Failure in East London,” and the embrace of military identity as an attempt to change course, see Murdoch, Origins of The Salvation Army, 71-114. [ Page ] 156 Church of England, and considered bringing The Salvation Army under Anglican auspices.89 The second turning point came around 1890, when he articulated his mature vision of salvation, a vision which included “salvation for both worlds,” the spiritual and the temporal, and re-cast The Salvation Army’s mission as a “war on two fronts,” rather than a strictly evangelistic effort with social ministry seen as a secondary task.90 BOOTH AS A YOUNG WESLEYAN EVANGELIST Even a cursory reader of Booth’s earlier life in ministry would come to the obvious conclusion that he believed he was called to be an evangelist. Before he was a licensed preacher in Nottingham, this meant that after working during the day as a pawnbroker’s apprentice, he would go out in the evenings and preach in the open air, often using the slums as his mission field.91 It became especially clear after his encounter with Caughey that Booth was intensely focused on a specific calling to be an evangelistic preacher, rooted in the Wesleyan theological tradition, and making use of the “new measures” which were employed by transatlantic revivalists such as Caughey and Charles Finney.92 William Booth followed the traditional Methodist path to full-time ministry - an approach which is based on a process of testing the gifts of the candidate over time.93 After ________________________________________ 89 The historical details of this episode will be explored in chapter III.3, when the ecclesiological perspective of the early Salvationists will be discussed. 90 A detailed study of this theological shift is found in Roger J. Green, War on Two Fronts: The Redemptive Theology of William Booth (Atlanta: Salvation Army Supplies, 1989). The shift is marked by the publication of William Booth’s most famous book In Darkest England and the Way Out (London: Funk & Wagnalls 1890). 91 Green, Life and Ministry of William Booth, 13-14; Collier, The General Next to God: The Story of William Booth and the Salvation Army., 30. See Booth’s own reflections on this early ministry, from the mid 1880s, in William Booth, “How We Began,” in Boundless Salvation: The Shorter Writings of William Booth, ed. Andrew M. Eason and Roger J. Green (New York: Peter Lang 2012) 29-30. 92 On Booth’s enthusiasm for Caughey’s band of revivalism, with its use of “calculated” means, see Murdoch, Origins of The Salvation Army, 7-12. 93 The early Methodist tradition followed a “bottom-up” pattern of discerning gifts for ministry, in which “local preachers” were chosen to assist in preaching and teaching the gospel in one location, and local preachers who showed evidence of gifts chosen to serve as “helpers.” “Assistants” were chosen from among the helpers, to assist Wesley in the oversight of a given circuit of Methodist Societies (hence their title was changed to “Superintendent” [ Page ] 157 having shown evidence of his gifts as a preacher and evangelist, he was first licensed as a local preacher in 1847, and exercised his ministry alongside his pawnbroking apprenticeship.94 His next step was full-time ministry employment in 1852,95 and then, once he had settled on the Methodist New Connexion, he became an ordained minister of the Conference in 1854, with an appointment as an assistant in the London Circuit, specially arranged to allow Booth to continue his evangelistic efforts.96 Thus we have both personal attestation from Booth himself, and confirmation from various ecclesial bodies, that Booth had a vocation to be an evangelist. The affirmation of his calling by a variety of structures of oversight indicates that he had demonstrated the gift of evangelism over time. The situation becomes somewhat more complicated when we consider Booth’s struggles with ecclesial authority, and his eventual departure from the Methodist New Connexion. At this point, Booth’s personal attestation of his gifts and vocation came into conflict with the discernment of those responsible for his oversight. Booth felt sure that he was called to be an itinerant evangelist, rather than a pastor settled into a circuit. The Conference, on the other hand, decided that it would be best to appoint him to a circuit, denying his repeated requests for freedom to travel and exclusively engage in revival campaigns. By appointing him in 1861 as Superintendent of the Newcastle Circuit, the Conference attempted to extend an olive branch to Booth, since he would, as Superintendent, have some measure of freedom to assign himself evangelistic duties, provided that the pastoral needs of the Circuit were attended to.97 Booth, however, was unwilling to compromise. In his resignation letter, dated July 18, 1861, he wrote __________________________________________________________________________________________________ after Wesley’s death). For a brief description see Rupert E Davies, ed., The Works of John Wesley, vol. 9 (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1989), 15-17. For an historical account of how these structures developed, see Henry D. Rack, Reasonable Enthusiast: John Wesley and the Rise of Methodism, 3rd ed. (London: Epworth Press, 2002), 237-250. 94 See Bennett, The General, I: 52; Green, Life and Ministry of William Booth, 24; Ervine, God’s Soldier, I: 40-41. 95 Green Life and Ministry of William Booth 52-64. 96 Ibid., 68ff. 97 Ervine, God’s Soldier, I: 236-244; Green, Life and Ministry of William Booth, 85-87; Murdoch, Origins of The Salvation Army, 34-35. [ Page ] 158 that he could no longer remain committed to both his “convictions” about his “duty to God and souls,” and the New Connexion, which was not allowing him to pursue those convictions in the way he wanted - that is, in freedom from the responsibilities of circuit ministry. 98 By this time, Booth had investigated his prospects for finding a living as an independent evangelist, having begun laying the groundwork for his exit soon after the appointment was made at the May 1861 Conference of the New Connexion.99 Many factors may have contributed to the Conference’s decision to deny Booth’s request to be wholly devoted to evangelistic mission,100 but whatever the reasons, the situation is an important one, from the perspective of the theology of charisms. I have argued above that charisms require oversight, and that they are not self-authenticating.101 The interdependent character of charisms would also suggest that the idea of an independent evangelist, free from ecclesial oversight, is problematic. Yet this was precisely the ecclesial arrangement that the Booths pursued, underwritten by their unwavering belief in the certainty of the Spirit’s guidance and gifting, revealed to them personally. As Green notes, So sure was William of his high calling that he could not see God’s will working through the denomination or its leadership. It was impossible for either William or Catherine at this time to see God’s will as anything other than a private calling to an individual. The will of God was measured solely by their own experiences and they did not seek the confirmation of their calling from the broader Christian community outside of that experience, except occasionally _______________________________________ 98 See the text of the letter in Ervine, God’s Soldier I: 251-252. 99 Green Life and Ministry of William Booth 83-91 100 Salvationist historians have sometimes suggested that it due to the jealousy of the established members of the Connexion that this young upstart preacher was denied his dream of returning to evangelistic work, or that undue focus on matters of church order was to blame. See, for example, Booth-Tucker, The Life of Catherine Booth, I: 286-289; Sandall, History of The Salvation Army, I: 9. It may also have been due to an anti-revivalistic sentiment, which bred suspicion concerning the success Booth was having in his ministry, as suggested by Horridge, The Salvation Army, 14; Sandall, History of The Salvation Army, I:8. These events were part of a larger spiritual awakening which was taking place in 1859. This awakening had a great effect on evangelical faith in Britain, and it also produced a negative counter-reaction to revivalism in general. Booth’s alignment with Caughey, a controversial figure, would have contributed to this situation. On the other hand, it may have simply been that the Conference had pressing needs for circuit ministers and did not feel that Booth’s gifts could be spared for itinerant evangelism. 101 Chapter II.1, pp. 23-24. [ Page ] 159 from someone like James Caughey. They were unable to perceive the call and will of God in a corporate sense in the context of the broader body of Christ - in this case, New Connexion Methodism.102 Of course, a deeper Protestant problem, which Green does not acknowledge, is that the divisions in the Church leave the ministry of oversight in an ambiguous state. It is not clear who should have been Booth’s overseers, since he had already been a member of several denominations, and was now able to operate as an independent evangelist without any oversight. But in the context of Protestant denominationalism, such a move is hardly unusual. Church leaders whose gifts are not received by their overseers will often seek to start their own communities. The oversight that is required for the discernment of charisms is hindered by the fractured state of the Church. On the other hand, the evident fruitfulness of Booth’s ministry over his lifetime would seem to suggest that he was not completely wrong about his charism. Even if Booth was right, one might question whether Booth ought to have submitted to the authority of his denominational leaders in order to avoid the creation of yet another distinct ecclesial body.103 It should be noted at this point, however, that Booth himself, when he would later exercise a ministry of oversight in his own mission, did not accept any similar disagreement with his own decisions.104 ____________________________________ 102 Green, Life and Ministry of William Booth, 88. 103 Booth did not leave the New Connexion in order to start a rival denomination, or even to found an independent church, and therefore his departure is not a “schism” in the plainest sense. He would later repeatedly stress that he did not set out to form a denomination. However, the fact remains that, over time, The Salvation Army formed into a distinct ecclesial body, with its own separated life of ministry, mission, and fellowship. I will return to this question and consider it in greater detail in chapter III.3. Booth’s situation parallels that of many founders of ecclesial movements, who often must choose between following their own personal sense of calling and that of their denominational leaders. In chapter III.3 I will compare Booth’s response to this situation to that of Hecker in relation to his Redemptorist superiors. 104 As Green notes, regarding those who left Booth’s fledgling mission in the late 1860s, “both William and Catherine viewed these people as traitors to the cause, thus once again confirming a major weakness in both of them. What they allowed for themselves in terms of the leading of God, they did not allow in others. God had led them into New Connexion Methodism and surely God had led them out. They were being faithful to the call of God in their lives. This was, however, a privilege that they refused to acknowledge for other people, especially anyone who left the Mission and later The Salvation Army.” Green, Life and Ministry of William Booth, 120-121. [ Page ] 160 BOOTH AS THE LEADER OF A MISISON TO THE NEGLECTED Booth’s certainty regarding his gifts and calling as a revivalistic evangelist led him to abandon all denominational connection and work as an itinerant evangelist from 1861 until 1865. During this time Booth continued to pursue a ministry of bringing the gospel to “the masses,” but did not see his vocation as relating specifically to a certain segment of the population. This changed when, at the invitation of the East London Special Services Committee, he began a series of meetings in East London on July 2, 1865. While Booth had always hoped that his revivalistic preaching would reach those who were not reached by “the churches,” it was his experience of conducting a mission in East London that convinced him to give up his work as an itinerant preacher and establish a more permanent mission agency. Catherine Booth later recounted William returning home from these early mission efforts in East London and saying that he had heard a voice asking him, “Where can you go and find such heathen as these, and where is there so great a need for your labours?” 105 In 1886, Booth himself gave a similar account of this pivotal moment in his life. ...I found my heart being strongly and strangely drawn out on behalf of the million people living within a mile of the tent - ninety out of every hundred of whom, they told me, never heard the sound of the preacher’s voice from year to year. “Here is a sphere,” was being whispered continually in my inward ear by an inward voice. “Why go further afield for audiences?” And so the church and chapel congregation somehow or other lost their charm in comparison with the vulgar Eastenders and I was continually haunted with a desire to offer myself to Jesus Christ as an apostle for the heathen of East London. The idea or heavenly vision or whatever you may call it overcame me, I yielded to it and what has happened since is I think not only a justification but an evidence that my offer was accepted.106 Booth made a public plea for help in starting his mission through an article in The Revival, August 17, 1865, writing of how “tokens of divine blessing” and the urgings of his colleagues _____________________________________ 105 Booth-Tucker The Life of Catherine Booth I: 400. 106 Booth, “How We Began,” 36. [ Page ] 161 had led him to “give myself up entirely to the East of London.”107 Booth therefore concluded that his engagement in a series of meetings on Mile End Waste in East London was a providential appointment, by which God had revealed his true calling to preach to “the people who would not attend evangelists’ services.”108 While it might seem as if Booth’s charism was that of an evangelist for the poor, given his connection to East London, a closer reading of his own statements indicates that his main concern was reaching those who were not being reached by the established churches. He certainly was concerned about poverty, and those he was trying to reach were certainly poor - but it was primarily the fact that they were “souls that needed the Gospel.”109 If Hecker’s vocation could be identified as the vocation of an evangelist for America, Booth’s vocation could be identified as the vocation of an evangelist for the neglected - those who were not reached by the established churches.110 Although confirmation of Booth’s vocation did not come through the formal authority structures of any denomination, his gifts as an evangelist for the un-churched received some confirmation from other Christian sources. Though these affirmations are fragmentary at best, ___________________________________ 107 William Booth, “East of London Revival Effort,” in Boundless Salvation: The Shorter Writings of William Booth, ed. Andrew M. Eason and Roger J. Green (New York: Peter Lang, 2012), 24. See the similar quotation cited in Pamela Walker, Pulling the Devil’s Kingdom Down: he Salvation Army in Victorian Britain (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001), 42. 108 William Booth, “Wesleyan Methodist Conference,” in Boundless Salvation: The Shorter Writings of William Booth ed. Andrew M. Eason and Roger J. Green (New York: Peter Lang 2012) 173-174. 109 This takes some of the sting out of Norman Murdoch’s critique of the traditional account of Salvation Army history. Murdoch argues at length that Booth “failed” to reach the poor of East London. Using statistics from The Christian Mission’s Minutes and the Christian Mission Magazine, he notes that by the end of the 1870s the mission had failed to produce any sustainable growth amongst the poor of East London, and was instead growing outside of London, in rural areas and among the working poor. Murdoch, Origins of The Salvation Army, 77-87. Murdoch certainly raises some important questions about the “success” of the Army in East London, but if Booth’s charism was primarily that of an evangelist for those who were not reached by the established churches, then the critique does not cut right to the heart of Booth’s charism and vocation in the way Murdoch implies. 110 It might seem redundant to specify that Booth’s charism was that of an evangelist for these “un-churched” people, since one might assume that every evangelist is attempting to reach people who are not actively involved in a church. However, that was certainly not the case for 19th century revivalist preachers, whose evangelistic campaigns would be attended by many faithful church-going people. Furthermore, in a revivalist and evangelistic ecclesial setting, it was important for each believer to not only have been raised in the Church, but have experienced a genuine conversion. Those who had grown up in the Church would certainly be the target of the kind of revival campaigns that Booth had previously conducted. He was now attempting to do something different, and reach people who were genuinely un-churched, and would not attend a revivalistic service organized by church leaders. [ Page ] 162 they do provide some confirmation of Booth’s charism. Between 1865 and 1870 Booth’s mission was funded by outside mission agencies and other benefactors, whose willingness to provide funding and support for his efforts speaks of their confidence in his gifts. For seven years following this, Booth worked with a Methodist-style Conference system, before having the constitution altered in 1877 to give him full autocratic authority.111 Thus, after initial confirmation of his evangelistic vocation, Booth freed himself from any oversight and exercised his gifts in complete independence.112 This unique arrangement, whereby the newly named Salvation Army existed as an independent mission whose membership had no ties to any other ecclesial body, was formalized in 1878. From this point on, Booth’s position as “General” gave him the unprecedented ability to shape the life and mission of The Salvation Army in a way that reflected his own sense of vocation as an evangelist to those whom he perceived to be the “least of these.” Remarking upon the change of name of the Christian Mission Magazine to The Salvationist in 1889, Booth wrote in 1889 that the new name spoke of their conviction “that the vilest and worst can be saved to the uttermost.”113 Booth’s vocation, then, seems to be firmly established as that of an evangelist, with a particular calling to those who were neglected by the established churches. His charism is similar, therefore, to Hecker’s, although it relates more specifically to the providential ordering of his own life, and the way in which he was led to begin his permanent mission in East London. ___________________________________ 111 The best summary of these developments in governance is found in Horridge, The Salvation Army, 21-37. 112 There was some opposition to Booth’s growing autocracy from within his movement. For an overview of criticisms of the constitutional change, see Ibid., 35-37; Murdoch, Origins of The Salvation Army, 99-100. For some examples of primary sources which provide criticism of Booth’s authority from former members of his movement, see Nicol, General Booth; A. W. Watts, Lion Hearts: Memoirs of the Christian Mission, Afterwards Known as The Salvation Army (Gillingham, Kent, UK: n.p., 1929). 113 William Booth, “Our New Name,” in Boundless Salvation: The Shorter Writings of William Booth, ed. Andrew M. Eason and Roger J. Green (New York: Peter Lang, 2012), 26. [ Page ] 163 BOOTH’S CHARISM IN LATER LIFE: DID IT CHANGE? Like Isaac Hecker, Booth embraced an expanded sense of mission in his later life. I noted above that, in its early years, The Salvation Army did not engage in social ministries in an organized way, and generally considered these to be of secondary importance in relation to the work of converting sinners by the preaching of the gospel. Local preaching stations would engage in ad hoc activities such as helping to provide food for the hungry, but there were no organized programs of social action. This began to change in the 1880s, though the change was not directed from the top by William Booth, but rather emerged through several grassroots initiatives.114 Booth, however, made scarce comments on these developments, and continued to speak of The Salvation Army as a purely evangelistic force.115 This changed during the years 1889-1890, when he began to articulate an expanded understanding of redemption, while at the same time establishing the “Social Reform Wing” of The Salvation Army as an institutional commitment to a newly conceived “dual mission.”116 In a significant article entitled “Salvation for Both Worlds,” published in the January 1889 issue of The Salvation Army’s periodical All the World, Booth recounted the change that had taken place in his thinking. While he had formerly considered attempts to alleviate temporal suffering as “trivial - nay, almost contemptible,”117 he became increasingly concerned with the sufferings of many of the people he encountered, though for a time he writes that he saw no _______________________________________ 114 For an overview of these initiatives, see Green, Life and Ministry of William Booth, 166-168. I will return to this issue in the next chapter. 115 Ibid., 168. 116 On this transition see especially Roger J. Green, “An Historical Salvation Army Perspective,” in Creed and Deed: Toward a Christian Theology of Social Services in The Salvation Army (Toronto: The Salvation Army, 1986), 45- 81; Green War on Two Fronts 76-95; Murdoch Origins of The Salvation Army 146-167. 117 William Booth, “Salvation for Both Worlds,” in Boundless Salvation: The Shorter Writings of William Booth, ed. Andrew M. Eason and Roger J. Green (New York: Peter Lang, 2012), 52. [ Page ] 164 remedy to these conditions, and therefore continued to focus on eternal salvation.118 The significant change came, Booth wrote, when he began to see that both temporal and eternal suffering proceed from the same cause, namely rebellion against God and the disordering of human desires.119 This “discovery” led Booth to a new formulation of his personal vocation, and indeed, of the gospel itself. Now, he came to believe that he had “two gospels to preach - one for each world, or rather, one gospel which applied alike to both,” and that the gospel “came with the promise of salvation here and now, from hell and sin and vice and crime and idleness and extravagance, and consequently very largely from poverty and disease, and the majority of kindred woes.”120 This new understanding of The Salvation Army’s mission was put forth more publicly in Booth’s best-known book, In Darkest England and The Way Out, published in 1890.121 The book outlines an elaborate “Scheme of Social Selection and Salvation,” remarking that his “ultimate design” remained the conversion of sinners to the gospel, but that if the plan failed in this respect, “I shall at least benefit the bodies, if not the souls, of men.”122 Booth lambasted his Christian contemporaries for “all this apparatus of temples and meeting-houses to save men from perdition in a world which is to come,” while making no effort to “save them from the inferno of their present life”123 The “Scheme” that he put forward was elaborate indeed, and included farm colonies, factories with fair working conditions, immigration programs, and ministries focused _____________________________________ 118 “...at the onset, I saw no remedy, and I said to myself, “If we cannot save them for time, we will save them for eternity!” The very thought that there was no lightening of their lot in time, quickened and stimulated me in seeking to brighten their condition in eternity.” Ibid., 53. 119 “I discovered that the miseries from which I sought to save man in the next world were substantially the same as those from which I everywhere found him suffering in this, and that they proceeded from the same cause - that is, from his alienation from, and his rebellion against God, and then from his own disordered dispositions and appetites.” Ibid. 120 Ibid 53-54 121 Summaries of the book can be found in Bennett, The General, II: 291-300; Green, War on Two Fronts, 91-95; Murdoch Origins of The Salvation Army 159-164; Walker Pulling the Devil’s Kingdom Down 236-241. 122 Booth Darkest England Preface (no page number). 123 Ibid., 16. Of course, Booth is engaging in a good deal of rhetorical hyperbole here, since many Christian groups in Victorian England were making efforts to help the poor. [ Page ] 165 on rescuing prostitutes, along with more common programs aimed at providing housing and food.124 The significance of this shift in terms of Booth’s thinking and in terms of The Salvation Army’s mission has been debated both within its ranks and by outside observers. From the earliest days, some suggested that the Darkest England Scheme was simply an attempt to change the Army’s direction in light of a failed program of evangelism, and shore up the Army’s financial resources.125 Frederick Coutts, Booth’s successor as eighth General (1963-1969), spoke out against this interpretation, writing that the idea that Booth “suddenly bethought himself of social service as a gimmick wherewith to restore his ineffective evangelical enterprises is a travesty of his thought and action.”126 Coutts maintains that social action had always been part of Booth’s vision, even if the shape of his engagement with these issues changed over time.127 He had always been an evangelist, but had never been content to merely preach sermons, because he “understood the biblical word salvation as bringing health - physical, mental, and spiritual - to every man.”128 Among recent interpreters, Norman Murdoch has contradicted Coutts, suggesting, “As its evangelistic program stagnated in the 1880s, social ___________________________________ 124 See Part II, which comprises the majority of the book, Ibid., 85-285. 125 K. S. Inglis writes: “Outside the Army it was widely said that the ‘Darkest England’ scheme was Booth’s confession of failure...This was certainly the opinion of many clergymen actually competing with Booth’s people in working-class London, several of whom now said in The Times that the Army, despite its claims, was not reaching the poorest. These witnesses were partisan. Similar comments, however, came from friendly and impartial sources.” K. S. Inglis, Churches and the Working Classes in Victorian England (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1963), 195-196. Green notes that in response to critics who suggested that Booth was misappropriating funds from the public to support other Salvation Army efforts, “a Committee of Inquiry was established and a report was issued on December 19, 1892, completely exonerating the Army and its General.” Green, Life and Ministry of William Booth 170. 126 Frederick Coutts, Bread for my Neighbour: The Social Influence of William Booth (London: Hodder and Stoughton 1978) 19. 127 The first published report of The East London Christian Mission, issued September 1867, substantiates Coutts’s claim, as it notes among the Mission’s activities a “Drunkard’s Rescue Society,” as well as distribution of food, and also notes that a plan was in place for the establishment of a soup kitchen. In Appendix I of Sandall, History of The Salvation Army I: 265-266. 128 Coutts, Bread for My Neighbour, 20. [ Page ] 166 salvation replaced evangelism as the army’s mission.”129 While Coutts’ assessment does warrant a challenge, Murdoch has clearly overstated his case, for the evangelistic emphasis in Salvationism remained strong after 1890. For this reason, Roger Green’s emphasis on a “second mission” or “dual mission,” is more helpful than Murdoch’s suggestion that the social mission had replaced the evangelistic mission.130 Taking up this idea of Booth’s shift in thinking towards a “dual mission,” does this imply a change in Booth’s charism? 1890 certainly marks an important shift for William Booth in terms of his commitment to social as well as personal salvation. The missiological and theological shift that took place at this time was due to a change in Booth’s understanding of redemption itself, and this new understanding of redemption seemingly implied a dual vocation for Booth, and therefore, might suggest a dual charism: the charism of an evangelist for the un- churched, and the charism of a social reformer. I would argue, however, that the “social reform” charism always remained subordinated to and subsumed under the “evangelist” charism, and that it represented a deepening of Booth’s understanding of evangelism, rather than a change in charism. This is evident, first, from the fact that, in spite of the greatly expanded role that Booth gave to social salvation after 1890, he nevertheless still maintained that the greatest goal of all of his efforts was personal or spiritual salvation. This point is easily lost on the reader of In Darkest England, as Roger Green notes, because Booth was not always as clear as he could have been regarding the relationship between social and spiritual salvation.131 However, giving Booth a charitable reading, it would seem that, on the whole, he still believed that the personal ___________________________________ 129 Murdoch, Origins of The Salvation Army, 147. 130 Green Life and Ministry of William Booth 175. 131 Green writes, “There were times when his whole redemptive picture included social and personal redemption - side by side. Social and personal redemption were two sides of the same coin...At other times the imagery is different, and Booth goes to great lengths to explain that social salvation is not an end in itself...” Green, “An Historical Salvation Army Perspective,” 69. [ Page ] 167 conversion of sinners was the only true hope for lasting social reform. So he maintained, concerning his Darkest England scheme, that “if the inside remains unchanged you have wasted your labour. You must in some way or other graft upon the man’s nature a new nature, which has in it the element of the Divine. All that I propose in this book is governed by that principle.”132 So Booth maintained, in my reading, that evangelical conversion was his ultimate goal, though he saw value in efforts to alleviate temporal misery. A second reason for arguing that Booth’s charism had not fundamentally changed from that of an evangelist for the neglected is that this significant shift was underwritten by a change in his understanding of the gospel itself. A broadened understanding of the social dimensions of salvation led Booth as an evangelist to see social relief as an aspect of the “one gospel applied alike” to the present and future worlds.133 It was this theological grounding for his new endeavours, combined with his continued prioritization of personal conversion that allowed him to claim that his new vision was simply “the plan to which the Spirit of God led me forty-four years ago” as a young preacher to the poor on the streets of Nottingham.134 Booth’s charism as an evangelist, and his particular calling to the neglected remained constant, though his own understanding of the implications of his gift and calling developed over time to include more than the verbal proclamation of the gospel.135 __________________________________ 132 Booth, Darkest England, 45. See also his comment that no “heavenly condition of society” could be brought about “without the reign of God and that righteousness that comes only through the power of the Holy Ghosts” “The Millennium; or, the Ultimate Triumph of Salvation Army Principles,” in Boundless Salvation: The Shorter Writings of William Booth ed. Andrew M. Eason and Roger J. Green (New York: Peter Lang 2012) 68. 133 Booth “Salvation for Both Worlds ” 53. 134 Ibid., 59. Again, it is surely an exaggeration to say that Booth had the same “plan” as a young man in Nottingham but the point is that he was able to see it as an aspect of his calling as an evangelist. 135 Some might object to this broadened definition of “evangelism,” but it is reflective of more recent Salvation Army thinking on mission, and also of the perspective of some contemporary Wesleyan thinkers (among whom I count myself) See for example, Howard Snyder’s account of evangelism as “announcing and embodying the good news of God’s reign” through “conversion evangelism,” “discipling evangelism,” “justice evangelism,” and “culture evangelism.” Snyder, Yes in Christ, 174-178. [ Page ] 168 CONCLUSION My application of the theology of charisms to the particular cases of William Booth and Isaac Hecker has identified the charism of each founder. Hecker had the charism of an evangelist for America, and Booth had the charism of an evangelist for the neglected. Both cases illustrate the close relationship between charism, vocation, and divine providence, with the charism of each enabling them to exercise a vocation in the Church that was both fitting in relation to their personal experiences and suited to the needs of the Church in their particular historical contexts. The divisions in the Church, however, present challenges for the identification of the charism of both Booth and Hecker. For Hecker, the challenge lies in the fact that he believed his vocation was to convert non-Catholic Christians to Catholicism. I have argued that this is a reflection of Hecker’s ecclesiological assumptions, and that the genuine charism which is present in spite of these assumptions is that of an evangelist for America. For Booth, the problem of oversight in a divided church poses particular challenges. Booth was clearly convinced of his own vocation, and there were some other Christian leaders who provided some affirmation of his unique gifts and calling, but because he moved between several denominations, and in the end operated as an autonomous evangelist, the confirmations of his charism are fragmentary at best. Both of these challenges will be taken up and further developed in the following chapters. [ Page ] 169 CHAPTER III.2 THE FORMATION OF THE MOVEMENT I have been arguing that charisms are personal gifts of grace which bring a particular vocational obligation, and that ecclesial charisms should be understood, not as supra-personal gifts, but as charisms which are shared among a group of persons, gathered together in the church in a distinct ecclesial body. That body, then, can be seen as an institutional means of grace, whereby the personal charism in question is cultivated and exercised. The normative form that such ecclesial bodies ought to take is that of a specialized movement, characterized by a particular charism. Such movements are to be contrasted with churches, which are characterized by the plurality of charisms. While these two basic forms of ecclesial bodies (movements and churches) remain normative from the perspective of ecclesial charisms, many ecclesial bodies exist, descriptively, in the hybrid forms of separated movements and movement-churches. The Paulist Fathers and The Salvation Army began as specialized movements in the church. A specialized movement often forms around a particular person, usually identified as the “founder” of the movement, and identification of the charism of the movement begins with the charism of the founder. I have identified the charism of Paulist founder Isaac Hecker as that of an evangelist for America, and the charism of William Booth as that of an evangelist for the neglected. In this chapter, I will examine the founding of each movement, in order to examine the ways in which these movements were formed around the charisms of their respective founders, and how each movement acted as a means of grace for the cultivation and exercise of the personal charism given to its members. As was the case with chapter III.1, my examination of the formation of the movement requires that I retrace some of the movement’s history, but this is done with a specific theological purpose and goal in mind: I will demonstrate how the [ Page ] 170 movement understood its own vocation in the light of the providential ordering of its founding, and from that sense of vocation I will infer the charism of the movement. Each movement believed it had been raised up by God to meet a particular need of the church in the movement’s particular context. They formed as a distinct body of persons who had been gathered together by the Spirit because they had the same vocation. Since vocation and charism are organically linked and are inseparable, the movement’s vocation implies its charism: the gift which had been given to its members to enable them to fulfil their particular role in the Church’s mission. The movement itself is a means of grace, established to cultivate and aid in the exercise of the charism of the founder. My discussion of the early histories of these two movements, therefore, will focus on each movement’s self-understanding, first of all, but will also consider how the movement’s purpose was understood and received by others in the church. In so doing, I am not presuming that the self-understanding of each movement is necessarily a faithful discernment of the movement’s charism. I am proceeding, however, on the assumption that the discernment process should begin with the particular persons claiming a charism, and then proceed to test their self-understanding against that of others who have the gift of oversight. Nevertheless, as will be seen in this chapter, the history of discernment and oversight in each historical case is complex, particularly in light of ecclesial division, and no simple procedure for the testing of charisms can be presumed to provide a definitive identification of the charism of a movement. Each of these two movements provides examples of various ways in which the exercise of a movement’s charism can be hindered. There was some ambiguity regarding the specific purpose of both the Paulist Fathers and The Salvation Army, and in both cases there was also a question of a modification of the charism in the first three decades. In the case of the Paulists, the ambiguity resulted from the fact that the Paulists took on parish work. These responsibilities [ Page ] 171 conflicted with Hecker’s vision for a strictly missionary congregation, and caused the meagre resources of the Paulists to be stretched to such an extent that their missionary activity suffered. The question of a modified charism for the Paulists arose from Hecker’s vision of a European expansion of the Paulist institute - a vision which, as discussed in the previous chapter, implied a broadening of the Paulist charism. In the case of The Salvation Army, the ambiguity resulted from the movement’s autonomy from all churchly oversight. While in its earliest days, some Salvationists would remain connected with churches, the complete autonomy of The Salvation Army meant that it began to morph into a movement-church at a very early stage. It was therefore forced to take on some of the tasks of a church long before Salvationists were willing to call themselves “a church.” The potential modification of the Salvationist charism relates to the growth of The Salvation Army’s “Social Wing” in the 1890s, a move which was grounded in Booth’s enlarged theology of redemption, discussed in chapter III.1. While both movements did indeed form around a discernible charism, the cultivation and exercise of each movement’s charism was hindered by these challenges. THE PAULISTS’ OWN VISION OF THEIR CHARISM AS A MOVEMENT The formation of the Paulist community began while all the founding members were still Redemptorist priests, working together conducting missions in America. Hecker was part of a group of American-born converts to Catholicism that saw a need for an English-speaking Redemptorist house, which they believed would help to overcome some of the “foreign” character of American Catholicism and thereby enable more effective efforts at evangelization. The other four priests who, together with Hecker, conceived of this new foundation, were Clarence A. Walworth, Augustine F. Hewit, George M. Deshon, and Francis A. Baker - all [ Page ] 172 converts to Catholicism.1 Hecker alone was expelled from the Redemptorist order on August 30, 1857, but his expulsion left the other four American priests in a precarious position, because it was on behalf of the entire group that Hecker had travelled to Rome to speak to the Redemptorist General Nicholas Mauron.2 Despite some differences of opinion which emerged in the intervening months,3 the five fathers remained committed to the project, and together they appealed to Pope Pius IX that the four remaining Redemptorists might be released from their vows, in order that they might begin a new missionary congregation in America. Permission was granted on March 6, 1858, after several months of lobbying by Hecker in Rome.4 Throughout his time in Rome, Hecker had become convinced that the providential ordering of events in their lives had created an opportunity for the founding of a new community which was aimed specifically at the conversion of non-Catholics in America.5 Upon Hecker’s return, the fathers retreated together to pray and make plans for the founding of their new congregation. There were two important issues at stake in these ______________________________________ 1 For brief biographies of the other early Paulists, see O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 167-171; James McVann, The Paulists, 1858-1970 (New York: Missionary Society of St. Paul the Apostle in the State of New York, 1983), 8-14; 18-23. After his untimely death, Baker’s memoir was published by Hewit, along with some of his sermons. See A. F. Hewit, Sermons of the Rev. Francis A. Baker, Priest of the Congregation of St. Paul, with a Memoir of his Life, 6th ed. (New York: Catholic Publication Society, 1865). A biography of Walworth was written by his sister in 1907. See Ellen H. Walworth, Life Sketches of Father Walworth, with Notes and Letters (Albany, NY: J. B. Lyon Company, 1907). 2 The basis for his expulsion was the fact that he had travelled to Rome without the approval of his Provincial, and had violated his vow of poverty by accepting money from his brother George Hecker in order to finance his trip. Holden The Yankee Paul 259. 3 O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 148-150; Farina, “Isaac Hecker’s Vision for the Paulists,” 190-192. Walworth in particular felt that Hecker’s enthusiasm for the founding of a new community and his bold pronouncements about the evangelization of America (published in two articles in the Civiltà Cattolica) did not reflect the sentiments of the other four priests. Hecker was presenting himself and his companions as visionaries, and Walworth contended that their only intention was to continue the missions in the spirit of St. Alphonsus. 4 On this period, see The Paulist Vocation, 63-79; McSorley, Father Hecker and His Friends, 53-68; Farina, An American Experience of God, 111-113; O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 131-165; Holden, The Yankee Paul, 269-413. The actual decree of the Congregation of Bishops and Regulars which released the five from their vows is found in The Paulist Vocation 75-77; and McSorley Father Hecker and His Friends 87. 5 See, for example, Hecker’s letter to the other American Fathers from January 1, 1858: “In regard to a new company, it may be that Divine Providence has permitted these things to happen in order to raise up by our hands a new company...one that would have in view the conversion of the great body of non-Catholics, well adapted to the fresh and diverse wants of a people composed of such elements as ours in America.” In The Paulist Vocation, 47. [ Page ] 173 discussions: the question of parish work and the question of vows, both of which have a connection to the question of the Paulist charism. In the months leading up to these discussions, Hecker had made it absolutely clear that he thought they should avoid parish work, speaking of it as a “fatal” mistake, and boldly stating, “Any offer of a location which involves parish duties, however, would prove the grave of our little bands and the death of our hopes.”6 He was quite clear in his conviction that he thought the Paulists should be completely free to engage in mission work, and pointed out that the Papal decree, though it placed them under local episcopal supervision, did not thereby make them parish priests.7 However, Hecker’s ideal vision for his community soon came into conflict with ecclesiastical realities. The young Catholic Church in America was highly under-resourced, and American bishops were reluctant to give support to the founding of a new institute in their diocese unless the members would agree to take responsibility for a parish. The only diocese that was willing to make such an offer was Cleveland. In addition to his concern for freedom to conduct missions, Hecker was also keen to base his new congregation in an important American city, and therefore the prospect of Cleveland was less than enticing, when compared with Boston, New York, or Baltimore. Since all of these major dioceses would have required the Paulists to take responsibility for a parish, they settled on New York, where Hecker had the most connections.8 This early compromise meant that, from the beginning, the exercise of the Paulist charism was hindered by obligations to undertake significant responsibilities other than the evangelization of America. On the question of vows, again, Hecker was pushed towards compromise. His initial desire was to avoid vows altogether, proceeding on the basis of promises of commitment to the ____________________________________ 6 Farina, “Isaac Hecker’s Vision for the Paulists,” 192, quoting a letter of Hecker to the American fathers from March 27, 1858. In the same letter, Hecker had insisted, “We must be entirely free to devote ourselves to our Missionary labours...though it compelled us to locate in the region of the Rocky Mountains.” 7 Hecker to the American Fathers March 11 1858 in The Paulist Vocation 68. 8 O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 174-175; Farina, “Isaac Hecker’s Vision for the Paulists,” 193-194. [ Page ] 174 community.9 Hecker called this the “voluntary principle,” and he thought would make the community more suited to the American context.10 Hecker felt, therefore, that community life should not be held together on the basis of perpetual vows, but by free and mutual agreement among the members, grounded in submission to the life of the Spirit.11 The idea of a community without vows was not meant to lessen the commitment of the members, for Hecker insisted that a “true Paulist should be a man fitted to take the solemn vows at any moment.”12 In other words, the ideal Paulist would be so directed by the Spirit that the taking of vows would be unnecessary. O’Brien comments that Hecker believed that “in a country marked by radical freedom, the members should be moved by inner conviction and the guidance of the spirit, not by external requirements.”13 This “voluntary principle” was therefore to be a reflection of Hecker’s particular charism as an American evangelist, as he believed such a form of government to be best suited to American Catholics.14 Clarence Walworth was strongly opposed to this move, and pushed hard for the group to take perpetual vows, believing them to be an essential aspect of the religious life, and believing that they ought to continue to live as religious. Walworth was also concerned that such a move would be seen as radical and innovative, characteristics that would _________________________________________ 9 The distinction here is between a formal vow, recognized by the church as having a canonically binding force, and an informal promise made within the community. 10 McSorley, Father Hecker and His Friends, 102; O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 172-173; Farina, “Isaac Hecker’s Vision for the Paulists,” 194-196; Hostetter, The Ecclesial Dimension, 293-294. Writing from Rome on December 6, 1857, Hecker had stated to his colleagues: “My convictions grow clearer and stronger. We need as broad and unconstrained a basis to act upon as we can get, for there is no reason why we should not adapt ourselves to what is good in our social and political customs and institutions, as other religious orders have done here in Italy and elsewhere in Europe.” The Paulist Vocation 41-42. 11 Farina notes the connection in this regard between Hecker’s pneumatology and his ecclesiology: “To the degree that the individual was faithful to the Spirit’s leadings, to that same degree would he be in conformity with the authority of the church. Hecker’s belief that the same Spirit that inspired the individual was also the one that animated the church is evident here. He felt that there was no need to place primary reliance on anything but the chief teacher himself, the Holy Spirit. As he expressed it later in life, “What a member of another religious community might do from that divine guidance which is external, the Paulist does from the promptings of the indwelling Holy Spirit.” Farina, An American Experience of God, 121. 12 The Paulist Vocation, 124. 13 O’Brien Isaac Hecker 172-173. 14 Hostetter observes that “Hecker felt that in America, in which individual freedom was a great value, it would be better if the unity of the new congregation was due to the internal, free convictions of its members rather than by an external constraint.” Hostetter, The Ecclesial Dimension, 294. Cf. Farina, An American Experience of God, 121. [ Page ] 175 bring suspicion upon the American converts.15 The members attempted a compromise by proposing that annual vows be taken, and suggesting the community would remain open to the possibility of instituting perpetual vows at a later date. Walworth, however, ended up leaving the community over the issue.16 While Hecker did not end up having to compromise on the issue of vows per se, the official Paulist founding documents would make no mention of “the voluntary principle,” reflecting a blunted version of the specifically American aspect of Hecker’s vision. With those two major issues resolved, and with Walworth out of the picture, the four remaining fathers submitted a provisional rule to the Archbishop of New York, John Hughes. The document, submitted July 7 1858 and officially termed a “Programme of the Rule and Constitution of the Missionary Priests of St. Paul the Apostle,” testifies to the ambiguity that surrounded the identity and purpose of the young community.17 The Programme of the Rule was said to outline the “essential features of the institute,” which it identifies in broad terms under two categories: first, the pursuit of personal sanctification by “leading a life in all essential respects similar to that which is observed in a religious Congregation,” and second, “to carry on common labours for the salvation of others.”18 Though they were not officially a religious ____________________________________ 15 At that time there were no American Catholic communities formed without perpetual vows, although the Oratorian movement of St. Philip Neri in Europe had long been established on these grounds. McSorley, Father Hecker and His Friends, 102; Hostetter, The Ecclesial Dimension, 293-294. As noted below, the first draft of the Paulist constitution contained a specific reference to St. Philip Neri, but this was removed. See Farina, “Isaac Hecker’s Vision for the Paulists,” 200. 16 Farina, “Isaac Hecker’s Vision for the Paulists,” 195; McSorley, Father Hecker and His Friends, 103; O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 173. In spite of his concerns that the new community was abandoning something essential to the religious life, Walworth himself left the Paulists to become a secular priest in the diocese of Albany. He returned to the Paulists in 1860, but left again in 1865, returning to Albany, where he had a very successful ministry as a parish priest. See Walworth, Life Sketches of Father Walworth. 17 The Programme of the Rule is reproduced in full in McSorley, Father Hecker and His Friends, 190-193. It is termed a “Programme of the Rule” because it was intended to be a provisional document, and states in the first sentence that it was prepared “with the intention of drawing up at the proper time a Rule to be submitted to the Holy See for approval and sanction.” Ibid., 190. They had no idea at the time that Vatican approval of their Rule and Constitutions would not come until 1940. Farina “Isaac Hecker’s Vision for the Paulists ” 198. 18 McSorley, Father Hecker and His Friends, 190-192. [ Page ] 176 Congregation,19 they would practice the virtues of chastity, poverty, and obedience, and commit themselves to various personal and communal spiritual practices.20 Regarding their evangelistic work, the document simply states that “they will carry on the missions in the spirit of St. Alphonsus and will avoid engaging themselves in works which will hinder or impede them in their missionary labours.”21 Without really commenting on parish work as an essential part of the Paulist mandate, the document presupposes that the community will be engaged in the supervision of a parish. It speaks of how “they will have but one parish with one church in any locality,” and furthermore states that “Whenever a parish is accepted” all duties will be carried out conscientiously in accordance with the agreement made with the local bishop.”22 On the whole, the document is not a very strong summary of the specific Paulist charism, at least not as Hecker envisioned it. The Programme of the Rule was quite generic and left the community open to taking on a variety of new tasks. Hecker optimistically saw this as a potential strength,23 but it also created problems by leaving the community open to distraction by a variety of different priorities. The Programme of the Rule also conservatively avoided any language that might suggest some of Hecker’s more pointed ideas about how the Paulists should be specifically adapted to the American culture. In fact, no mention is made of the conversion of non-Catholic ______________________________________ 19 Since they did not take vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, the Paulists would not be classified as “religious” according to canon law. In the “Programme of the Rule” it merely specified that they would “practice the three religious virtues chastity, poverty, and obedience,” but without a permanent and public vow they were not officially “religious.” Ibid., 190. Hecker, focused as he was on “inward” spirituality over external regulation, was not terribly concerned about such technicalities, and saw the Paulist way of living a religious life as a true reflection of his age. He wrote, “Are the Paulists Religious? Yes, and no. Yes, of their age. No, of the past; the words in neither case being taken in an exclusive meaning. The ideal is the same in all orders of religion: perfection, union with God, all that that implies. The means are substantially the same: interior fidelity to grace, prayer, detachment, mortification, all that that implies. Though we do not take vows, yet we are none the less wholly given up to the divine service.” The Paulist Vocation, 123-124. 20 McSorley. Father Hecker and His Friends, 190-191. 21 Ibid., 192. The only potential hindrance identified is “engaging in secular education,” and it is also specified that “in making new foundations they will be careful that each one shall have a community sufficiently numerous...” 22 Ibid. 23 For Hecker’s comments on the benefits of keeping the community “open-ended,” see The Paulist Vocation, 61. Cf. Farina, “Isaac Hecker’s Vision for the Paulists,” 190-191. [ Page ] 177 Americans, though the original Paulists clearly intended to be a community focused on this goal.24 There is no mention of “the voluntary principle,” which Hecker had earlier espoused as an essential aspect of his vision.25 Neither is this aim mentioned in the letter of agreement received by the Paulists from Archbishop Hughes, though he does grant that he will not require any duties of them beyond the care of the parish, and will “leave them at liberty to carry on the missions and other apostolic works of their Institute.”26 While this certainly didn’t prohibit them from pursuing the conversion of America to the Catholic faith, the fact that it was not spelled out explicitly gave the movement a certain lack of focus, and this would later create challenges for their missionary work. It may be that these specifically “American” ideas were left out because Hecker and the other founding members understood that they would have been seen as controversial by the Catholic establishment, and therefore would have made it difficult for them to get their new community approved.27 In any case, their constitutional foundation did not provide a solid articulation of the movement’s specific charism. As McSorley comments, ““not excluded from other apostolic works” is a far cry from “specifically dedicated to the work of converting non-Catholic Americans”.....It was a battered little craft that had made port, but at _____________________________________________ 24 While one might assume that the conversion of non-Catholics is implied in the stipulation that the Paulists would carry on the missions in the spirit of St. Alphonsus, this is not the case, since the Redemptorist missions were mostly focused on reaching the existing Catholic population. Thus it was, in Farina’s words, a “major compromise” on Hecker’s part, made in order to gain the approval of a church hierarchy that was skeptical of American values, given the ways its authority was being curtailed in the Europe in the name of liberty and democracy. Farina, “Isaac Hecker’s Vision for the Paulists,” 200. 25 Farina notes, “The first draft of the Programme had “stated that the Paulists would have no vows but would be formed around the voluntary principle “similar to the Congregation founded by St. Philip Neri.”” Ibid. 26 Reproduced in McSorley Father Hecker and His Friends 193. 27 McSorley observes: “Of course, to dedicate a community to the work of conversion would not be quite the same as to announce this dedication. There is no record of detailed discussion on this point. When eventually announced, the aim of the community was presented in non-committal terms - “to carry on the missions in the spirit of St. Alphonsus.” Ibid., 102. McVann concurs: “They were aware that announcing such a purpose would have stirred up suspicions of innovation among the bishops and clergy among whom they were going to work, a suspicion sharpened by their being converts and recently separated from a body of men justly renowned for zealous work in the salvation of souls.” McVann, The Paulists, 43. [ Page ] 178 least the four survivors were raising the flag of a new community.”28 Whatever the official documents stated, the four priests seem to have had a clearer view of their own charism as evangelists for America, as can be seen in a circular letter they published at this time, announcing the birth of their new movement to the American church.29 This letter, printed in Catholic newspapers around the country, made little mention of parish work, but rather emphasized the missions as the primary activity of the new Congregation. They were organized to pursue “the more vigorous prosecution of the missions and other works of apostolic ministry which, as a body, they have been engaged for the last seven years.” The letter also stated that they intended to be more than a local institution, and indeed hoped they could provide a “center of missions to be given in all parts of the country,” and further claimed that their devotion to mission work would continue as long as they drew breath.30 In a personal letter from that same month, Hecker claimed the Paulists would be dedicated “chiefly to missions and other apostolic works.”31 Thus Hecker continued to hold on to his ideal aims for the Paulist community as a reflection of his own personal charism, even if the practical realities of the Paulist institution were more ambiguously arranged. In spite of Hecker’s avowed intentions, the shaky foundation of the community, combined with their meagre resources, conspired to hamper their missionary efforts, and hindered the movement’s ability to act as an institutional means of the Paulist charism. With _________________________________ 28 McSorley, Father Hecker and His Friends, 105. It is possible, of course, that these compromises were a healthy “check” on Hecker’s ideas, which were somewhat radical for Catholicism of his time. However, it is also the case, as will become clear in the later Americanism controversy (taken up in chapter III.4), there was a certain anti- American bias among many members of the hierarchy, and it was this bias that forced the Paulists to downplay the specifically American aspects of their charism. See below under “The Paulist charism interpreted by others.” 29 McVann The Paulists 47. 30 Cited in O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 175. 31 Letter to Bernard Smith, July 20, 1858, cited in Ibid., 176. In another letter to a friend, written shortly after the Programme was approved, Hecker continued to emphasize his peculiar ideas as foundational to the community: “Our aim is to lead a strict religious life in community, starting with the voluntary principle; leaving the question of vows to further experience, counsel, and indications of divine Providence. Our principal work is the missions, such as we have hitherto given, but we are not excluded from other Apostolic labors as the wants of the Church may demand or develop.” Cited in The Paulist Vocation, 81. [ Page ] 179 only four priests, it was very difficult for the Paulists to found and care for a parish in a then- remote area of New York City, while also carrying on evangelistic missions around the country, not to mention recruiting new members and establishing their own novitiate.32 Walworth decided he wanted to return and join the community in 1861, and this proved a great help in maintaining the missions.33 They were also able to gain a handful of recruits in the early 1860s, though several tragedies of illness and death among their members kept the community small.34 When Walworth withdrew for a second time in 1865, immediately following the death of founding member Francis Baker, the Paulists’ resources were stretched to the breaking point, and missions had to be suspended from November 1865 to April 1871.35 While the mission to evangelize non-Catholics remained a high priority in Hecker’s mind, in practice, it was a secondary priority, and the missions were carried out only in so far as resources allowed after the parish duties were accounted for. In addition to the Redemptorist-style parish missions, the focus of the Paulists on converting Americans was pursued through two other types of missionary activity. The first was Hecker’s work as a public lecturer. Hecker was able to make use of the popular lecture circuit of nineteenth century America and tour the country giving lectures aimed at dispelling myths about ____________________________________ 32 Farina, An American Experience of God, 122; O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 177, 184-189. 33 McSorley Father Hecker and His Friends 116; O’Brien Isaac Hecker 183. 34 On the difficulties with recruitment, see O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 181-184. McVann notes that, although the Paulists only gained eight new priests in twelve years, they had in fact had 39 novices in their community during that time. He follows Elliot in claiming that this was due to the high standards required for recruits. McVann, The Paulists 63; Cf Elliott The Life of Father Hecker 297 330 35 McVann notes that, in addition to running a parish, the Paulists were attempting to establish a novitiate and publish their new monthly magazine, while Hecker himself was now engaged in lectures, the newly-founded Catholic Publication Society, while also making two trips to Europe, for the Malines Congress in 1867 and the Vatican Council in 1869. McVann, The Paulists, 77-78. See also Farina, An American Experience of God, 122; O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 188; McSorley, Father Hecker and His Friends, 116-117; McVann, The Paulists, 77-78. Walworth initially left for health reasons after Easter of 1865, but then resigned in July. Ellen Walworth cites the strain of the mission work which Walworth as the reason for his second departure. Walworth, Life Sketches of Father Walworth, 148. [ Page ] 180 Catholicism and promoting it as a viable American religion.36 He had begun his lecture work while still a Redemptorist, but continued it in his early Paulist years, and by these means was able to bring his message to a Protestant audience that would never be reached through parish missions.37 Hecker was initially quite enthusiastic about the lectures,38 but as time went on he became somewhat disillusioned with the results he saw from his lecturing, and so he sought another avenue of apostolic mission in the printing press.39 Paulist printing and publishing activity may be the activity for which the Paulist Fathers are best-known today, given the lasting legacy of Paulist Press. In 1865, as Walworth was leaving the Paulists for the second time and the mission work was being suspended, Hecker was founding his successful monthly magazine The Catholic World, and it was arguably this achievement which was his most significant from the perspective of his contemporaries.40 The following year, after addressing the Plenary Council of Bishops in Baltimore, Hecker was encouraged to give leadership to a new organization called the “Catholic Publication Society,” which was to provide a more deliberate and concerted __________________________________ 36 McSorley, Father Hecker and His Friends, 155-162. On the background of the popular lecture circuit via the “Lyceum” movement in antebellum America, see Angela G Ray, The Lyceum and Public Culture in the Nineteenth- Century United States (East Lansing MI: Michigan State University Press 2005) 13-47. 37 Hecker and the other Paulists had held their first public lectures in Norfolk Virginia, April 1856, following a parish mission there. See Hecker to Brownson, 12 April 1856, in The Brownson-Hecker Correspondence, 191-192; O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 115. In October 1862 the Paulists held their first lecture series independent of a parish mission, in Jersey City. Ibid., 195-198. On Hecker’s activities as a public lecturer, see also McVann, The Paulists, 130-141 38 This was based in part on the medium itself, and the personal contact it allowed between the speaker and the audience in a “neutral” environment, but he also felt that his particular method of reasoning was suited for this environment. Rather than a defensive apologetic, as was common among Catholics of the day, Hecker would begin his case by appealing to something he felt to be basic to the human condition, and upon which he could build a bridge to his non-Catholic audience. He would then propose that the Catholic faith was the one way to have this common human longing or need met. See, for example, his comments in a letter to Bishop Bayley of Newark, February 27, 1863, in McVann, The Paulists, 139. McVann also notes that Hecker was able to appear in “secular dress” in these early lectures because the Roman collar was not made a requirement for the dress of priests until the Second Plenary Council of Baltimore, 1866. Ibid., 140. 39 O’Brien notes that Hecker’s frustrations stemmed from the lack of interest among local priests and bishops in following up on the converts from the lectures, as well as the limited resources of the Paulists, and the limitations on audience that came with the medium of a public lecture. O’Brien Isaac Hecker 199. 40 McSorley notes that Hewit considered the magazine to be “Hecker’s most important and most successful enterprise in the field of literature.” Father Hecker and His Friends, 165. [ Page ] 181 programme of publication and distribution of Catholic literature in America.41 He also began a children’s magazine entitled The Young Catholic in 1870.42 For the purposes of this study, what is significant about Hecker’s publishing activity is that it was done with the specific intent of reaching Americans. As his early biographer Elliott wrote, Hecker believed that “the Apostolate of the Press,” was the best way to provide “the largest amount of truth to the greatest number of people,” especially given the small size of the Paulist community.43 In other words, Hecker invested the limited resources of the Paulist community in publishing because he realized he could use the press as a way of cultivating and exercising the Paulist charism of evangelizing the nation.44 Although Hecker altered his vision for the Paulists in the mid 1870s, believing that God was calling them to a European apostolate,45 the Paulist community never embraced this altered vision. This may have been due to the practical limitations they faced, as a small community attempting to run a parish and a publishing enterprise, while also carrying on mission and lecture tours. The expanded vision came to Hecker while he was on sabbatical in Europe, recuperating from illness, far away from the daily grind of Paulist missionary activities. Hewit, whom Hecker had left in charge while he was away, displayed impatience and exasperation with Hecker during this time, as he struggled to keep the community afloat while Hecker dreamed dreams of _____________________________________ 41 Though the project was somewhat short-lived, it eventually morphed into an in-house Paulist publishing company, which later became Paulist Press. Ibid., 167-168; and McVann, The Paulists, 85-88. 42 McSorley Father Hecker and His Friends 166 43 Elliott, The Life of Father Hecker, 349. 44 Of course, the Paulists were not the only Catholic publishers of their day, and it may indeed be that others were producing some similar resources. But for the purpose of establishing a connection between Paulist publishing and the Paulist charism, it is not necessary to show that their publications were more evangelistic than those of others. It is only necessary to demonstrate that the Paulists viewed their publishing endeavours as an extension of their mission. As I noted at the end of chapter II.3, the charism of a movement does not imply that the movement in question has exclusive claim over its particular vocation. 45 See above, pp. 150-152. [ Page ] 182 worldwide expansion.46 Hewit had indeed taken upon himself a heavy burden, acting as de facto superior during a time when the community was still trying to establish itself in spite of its many challenges. In fact, Hewit was even called upon to draw up a new Rule and have it approved by the 1874 Chapter meeting, so that Hecker could appeal (in vain) to Rome for Papal approbation of the community.47 By this point, Hecker had re-framed the aim of the Paulist movement in his own mind, broadening its scope from the evangelization of non-Catholic Americans. As noted in chapter III.1, he was re-envisioning “the fundamental idea of the Paulists” as “the idea of organizing the practical side of the Church in view of the needs of the age and the triumph of religion, for the greatest expansion of the ideal Christian life possible.” He now believed that this idea “needs to be practically organized in Europe in harmony with the instincts and dispositions of its different races, nationalities, and needs, in order to renew Christian life and prepare the way for the triumph of the Church.”48 Undergirding Hecker’s convictions about Paulist expansion was his understanding of the Providential “mission of the United States” in history, as a nation and a type of civilization that provided all the answers to the woes of the church in Europe, an idea which I will discuss further in the next chapter.49 In spite of the fact that Hecker remained resolutely convinced of his new vision for the rest of his life, he eventually consented to return home rather than go against the will of the community as a whole. Thus the Paulist movement never institutionally embraced Hecker’s broadened vision of the community _____________________________________ 46 See the letters Hewit wrote to Hecker on September 15, 1873 and the following spring, cited in O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 262, 265. Cf. Farina, “Isaac Hecker’s Vision for the Paulists,” 205-210. 47 Hewit and Hecker mistakenly believed that they had already received the required Decretum Laudibus from Pius IX in 1868, but discovered after submitting the permanent Rule that, though the Pope had indeed written a letter of praise for Hecker and the community, it was not the official Decretum that they required. See Farina, “Isaac Hecker’s Vision for the Paulists,” 206. This rule was never approved. See McVann, The Paulists, 169-170. 48 The Paulist Vocation, 88-89. The source is listed as a private memorandum, given from Europe during his illness, 1874-1875. 49 See Hecker to George Hecker, January 27, 1870, in Ibid., 86. I will discuss these convictions about the providential significance of America, in the next two chapters. Of course, were not peculiar to Hecker, but reflected broader trends in American religious culture which had been developing for some time. On the history of this idea, see Stephen H. Webb, American Providence: A Nation with a Mission (New York: Continuum, 2004), 29-50. [ Page ] 183 charism, but rather continued to restrict its activities to the evangelization of America. As I have already argued in chapter III.1, this non-reception of Hecker’s broadened vision, while it does not completely discount the authenticity of his perceived change in charism, does cast considerable doubt on the subject. Because the broadening of the Paulist charism remained a conviction of Hecker alone, it is difficult to attribute it with any certainty to the leading of the Spirit in the Paulist movement. The Paulists, as a movement, remained focused on their original charism of evangelism in America, though the above-mentioned ambiguities of the movement hampered the movement’s effectiveness as a means for the cultivation and exercise of this charism. THE PAULIST CHARISM AS INTERPRETED BY OTHERS Thus far I have viewed the formation of the Paulist movement from the perspective of the Paulists themselves. Since charisms are not self-authenticating, however, and are subject to oversight, it is also important to consider the reception of the Paulist charism by the broader church community, and in particular, by those in authority in the Roman Catholic Church. The nineteenth century Catholic Church had clear lines of oversight, and therefore the response of the episcopacy to the Paulist charism would have been understood as authoritative by Catholics of that day. From my perspective, of course, the divisions in the church mean that even the Catholic Church’s overseers are hindered in the exercise of their office of discernment. However, an examination of the response of the Catholic community remains our primary means of assessing the way in which the Paulist charism was received by those outside of the movement itself. Though Hecker certainly had support from some of his fellow Catholics,50 it is clear from ________________________________________ 50 See the letters of support collected in The Paulist Vocation, 29-30. Cf. Brownson to Hecker, August 5, 1857, in The Brownson-Hecker Correspondence, 195 and the comments of Walworth, Life Sketches of Father Walworth, [ Page ] 184 what I have already outlined above that the Paulist charism was not received without qualification by the Catholic hierarchy. The fact that the early Paulists had to make compromises in their rule in order to receive episcopal approbation, represents, in my judgment, a failure on the part of the bishops to recognize and receive the Paulist charism. Skepticism concerning American culture and values, as well as a general wariness of Catholic converts51 (particularly by the movement’s own bishop, John Hughes)52 made it necessary for some of Hecker’s most distinctive ideas, including the “voluntary principle,” to be left out of the movement’s foundational documents. This meant that the specifically American aspect of the Paulist charism was obscured. While the “Americanist” controversy did not come into full focus until the 1890s, it was anticipated in many ways by the prevailing attitudes of the Catholic hierarchy at the time of the founding of the Paulists.53 The other major hurdle that the new community faced was obviously the obligation to accept parish ministry. The practical necessities of caring for a Catholic population that was expanding rapidly through immigration made it difficult for the bishops to approve a _______________________________________________________________________________________________ 150. More evidence could be brought to bear on this point, but suffice it to say that many American Catholics were able to recognize and affirm the Paulists’ charism as evangelists to America. 51 While some of Hecker’s ideas about America may have been extreme and problematic, the degree of skepticism concerning Americans far outstripped the potential danger of Hecker’s enthusiasm for American culture. It is telling that, during some early struggles with the American bishops, Hecker was advised, “if you would get some old Catholics to join you I think it would serve you.” Bernard Smith to Hecker, October 11, 1858, cited in O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 180. Smith was a Benedictine professor at the Propaganda college in Rome, who had aided Hecker while he was there by getting him an audience with Cardinal Barnabò. See Holden, The Yankee Paul, 273. In a similar vein, McVann cites a letter from the Archbishop of Halifax, Thomas L. Connolly, dated September 27, 1860, which states, regarding the case of a particular new recruit: “I hope the young man you sent to St. Charles’ has always been a Catholic. Until some such event as this will occur, you will not be entirely beyond suspicion in many good people’s estimation.” McVann goes on to note that it was not until 1872 that the first Catholic-born Paulists were ordained. McVann The Paulists 64. 52 O’Brien notes that “of all the bishops in the United States, Hughes was perhaps most suspicious of converts.” Isaac Hecker 176. 53 See Hecker’s letter to the American Fathers, written from Rome, November 20, 1858, where he writes of the suspicion he encountered concerning all things American: “Every word had to be weighed even in conversation which might give rise to suspicion in this regard.” In The Paulist Vocation, 40-41. The following spring he wrote to his brother to ask James McMaster, publisher of the Freeman’s Journal, not to print anything about the Paulists that would provide “any handle for any suspicions of any Americanisms.” Hecker to George Hecker, March 13, 1858, quoted in Farina, “Isaac Hecker’s Vision for the Paulists,” 198. [ Page ] 185 Congregation of priests devoted wholly to mission, without parish responsibilities.54 While this is completely understandable from a pastoral perspective, it is problematic when considered from the perspective of the theology of ecclesial charisms. The specific charism of the Paulists was to be missionary priests, and the fact that a group which originally consisted of only four members was expected to establish and maintain a parish led to the hampering of the evangelistic aspect of the Paulist charism.55 While it is true that the community was approved and accepted, and was allowed to pursue its charismatic vocation to a certain extent, the truly distinctive aspects of the Paulist charism were seen as secondary considerations in relation to the priority issues of parish ministry. Hecker had reason to fear the tensions that parish ministry would introduce into the movement. Farina notes that in the 1884 General Chapter a minority of the members attempted to replace Hecker with Hewit as superior, and cast a new vision for the community, focused more on parish ministry than missions. The minority’s symbol of a new era was the newly completed St. Paul’s Church. The parish ministry with its conventional forms and predictable patterns was their focus; and, in fact, since the late ‘70s more Paulists had been working full-time in the parish than on the missions. The Rule and the parish - the two symbols that expressed the things Hecker had since 1857 seen as distinct from the Community he wished to found - had raised their heads again over twenty years later.56 Thus, in short, the Catholic hierarchy at the time of the founding of the Paulist community was too preoccupied with maintaining boundaries and caring for the existing Catholic population to give leave for a movement devoted exclusively to reaching non-Catholics, and because the Paulists were not set aside specifically for this purpose, their charismatic contribution to the life ___________________________________ 54 Hecker, in attempting to explain this compromise to Barnabò, wrote that “the Bishops in the United States make the charge of parishes, on account of the small numbers of priests, a sine qua non of all religious communities.” Hecker to Barnabò, February 15, 1859, quoted in Farina, “Isaac Hecker’s Vision for the Paulists,” 193. 55 There is evidence that Hecker himself continued to believe that the Paulists ought to have been a wholly missionary movement later in his life. See, for example, his comments in a memorandum dated September 9, 1885, about his hopes for a Paulist house in London that would be “wholly missionary, without any public church or oratory.” The Paulist Vocation 98. 56 Farina, “Isaac Hecker’s Vision for the Paulists,” 212. [ Page ] 186 of the church as a whole was hindered. I would summarize the formation of the Paulist movement by identifying three ways in which the movement was hindered as a means of grace for cultivating and exercising the charism of evangelizing the United States. First, there was a lack of clarity in the movement’s founding documents. Their charism was not explicitly identified, and the movement was therefore left open to distraction by various tasks that were not essential to the Paulist charism. Secondly, their charism was not wholeheartedly received by those in oversight in the Catholic Church. Suspicions of all things “American” due to tensions facing the church in Europe meant that the Paulists had to downplay their charism in order to receive episcopal approbation. Third, the practicalities of nineteenth century American Catholicism worked against the Paulists, in that the shortage of priests meant that they were required to take on pastoral duties, and these duties hindered their evangelistic efforts. In all of these ways, then, the Paulist charism was hindered, and the Paulist movement was not able to function as effectively as it might have as a means of grace for the Church. THE SALVATIONISTS’ OWN VISION OF THEIR CHARISM AS A MOVEMENT William Booth began preaching a series of revival meetings in East London in the summer of 1865, and decided that he would give up itinerant evangelism in order to “establish a Christian Revival Association.”57 The organization that formed around Booth, originally called “The Christian Revival Association,” would change its name several times before settling on “The Christian Mission” in 1869.58 The Christian Mission began as a revivalistic organization ____________________________________ 57 Booth, “East of London Revival Effort,” 24. 58 The various names used for Booth’s mission were The Christian Revival Association, The East London Christian Revival Union, East London Christian Revival Society, The East London Christian Mission, and finally The Christian Mission. For simplicity’s sake, the literature on The Salvation Army normally refers to the movement as “The Christian Mission” whenever discussing the period before the change of name to The Salvation Army (1878). [ Page ] 187 much like many others that were part of the “Home Mission Movement” in the 1860s.59 Their methods were similar to those of other revivalist preachers, built upon the precedent set by Finney’s “new measures,” and popularized in England by the revival campaigns of James Caughey and Phoebe Palmer.60 They made use of a variety of unconventional venues for worship services, such as dance halls and taverns, as well as engaging “open-air” preaching. While Catholic revivalism, as seen in the Paulist missions, was mostly centred on “parish missions,”61 Protestant revivalism was often disconnected from particular congregations, and undertaken on an interdenominational or “non-sectarian” basis.62 Booth’s initial goal had been to send his converts to churches in East London, but he found that his converts did not feel welcome in the churches, and were more inclined to continue in worship and serve with those through whom they had come to faith. As Booth himself explained, two decades later: My first idea was simply to get the people saved, and then send them to the churches. This proved at the outset impracticable. 1st. They would not go when sent. 2nd. They were not wanted. And 3rd. We wanted some of them at least, ourselves to help us in the business of saving others. We were thus driven to providing for the converts ourselves.63 So the Christian Mission functioned as a “church home” for these converts, from a very early ___________________________________ 59 Horridge, The Salvation Army, 8-9. 60 The most extensive treatment of the influence of American revivalism upon William Booth and The Salvation Army is found in Murdoch, Origins of The Salvation Army, 1-39. Cf. Richard Carwardine, Transatlantic Revivalism: Popular Evangelicalism in Britain and America 1790-1865 (Milton Keynes, UK: Paternoster, 2006), 102-197. 61 Jay Dolan comments, “As far as the institution was concerned, Catholic revivalism clearly channeled the enthusiasm of revivalistic religion into the local church.” Dolan, Catholic Revivalism: The American Experience, 1830-1900 192 62 The nineteenth century usage of “sectarian” is closer to the contemporary meaning of “denomination” than the contemporary meaning of “sect,” which has been influenced by the foundational sociological work of Troeltsch and Weber. See the classic discussion in Ernst Troeltsch, The Social Teaching of the Christian Churches, trans by. Olive Wyon (New York: Harper, 1960), I: 331-343. Murdoch includes such entities as the Evangelical Alliance (formed 1846), the Y.M.C.A. and Y.W.C.A, as examples of such interdenominational cooperation, along with the specific bodies that supported Booth’s work, such as the East London Special Services Committee and the Evangelisation Society. Murdoch, Origins of The Salvation Army, 45-46. 63 Booth, “How We Began,” 39. [ Page ] 188 date, even as the leaders of the mission claimed emphatically that it was not a church.64 The Christian Mission experienced significant but somewhat unstable growth in its early years through the 1870s.65 Organizationally, the movement went through several distinct stages.66 From 1865-1867 it operated as a loosely organized association, with little structure, but accountable to outside funding agencies which made its work possible. 1867 was a significant turning point, during which the nascent movement began to establish itself as a recognizable body, seen in the acquisition of a headquarters, the hiring of workers, publishing a set of Articles of Faith, and issuing a financial statement.67 During the next three years the movement became an established missionary body, which was run by Booth in consultation with an Advisory Committee, made up in part of key donors.68 The mission moved to a Methodist-Style Annual Conference in 1870, which remained in place until 1877.69 While Booth acted as “General Superintendent” and governed with the help of a Conference Committee which met monthly, the Mission also held Annual Conferences each summer, with Circuit Superintendents and elected lay representatives in attendance.70 Booth was always an autocratic leader, however, and during this period of governance by Conference he strengthened his position by enrolling a Foundation Deed Poll in Chancery in 1875, naming himself as General Superintendent “for the term of his natural life” and giving him authority to set aside “all or any of the decisions and resolutions of _____________________________________ 64 So the first set of Orders and Regulations of the Salvation Army, issued in 1878, insisted, “We are not and will not be made a Church. There are plenty for anyone who wishes to join them, to vote and rest.” Cited in Harold Hill, Leadership in the Salvation Army: A Case Study in Clericalisation (Milton Keynes, UK: Paternoster. 2006). 35-36. 65 According to Horridge’s calculations, there were 16 mission stations in 1868, and the number had increased to 39 by 1875 but was reduced to 31 two years later Horridge The Salvation Army 20 66 My account of these organizational stages of development is based on Murdoch’s argument, with some slight modifications See the summary in Murdoch Origins of The Salvation Army 41-42 67 Hill, Leadership in the Salvation Army, 46; Cf. Sandall, History of The Salvation Army, I:46-47. 68 Murdoch Origins of The Salvation Army 58 69 Horridge notes, however, that the Advisory Committee remained in place, alongside the Conference, until 1878. The Salvation Army, 25-26. The last mention of the Advisory Council in the Mission’s official records, according to Sandall is June 1876. Sandall History of The Salvation Army I: 253. 70 See the relevant extracts from the 1870 Constitution in Appendix 4 of Horridge, The Salvation Army, 255-257. 189 any Conference.”71 Finally, during a crucial period between June 1877 and August 1878 The Christian Mission was transformed into The Salvation Army, adopting both a military government and a militant identity. First, the polity of the movement was altered by a new Deed Poll, alterable only by Parliament, which gave William Booth full control for life, without any oversight or accountability.72 The Conference was dissolved on the grounds that it had been too controversial and directed attention to minutiae instead of great spiritual matters.73 The change of name came about almost by accident when Booth objected to his mission being described as a “Volunteer Army” on the title page of its 1878 annual report. He struck out the word “Volunteer” and replaced it with “Salvation.”74 The name was taken up immediately with great enthusiasm by the mission members, and was accompanied by the adoption of military language, music, customs, and dress in the years to come.75 It was this final solidification of early Salvation Army organization and identity which marked the end of its transition, as Harold Hill puts it, from “an independent mission staffed by volunteers from a variety of church backgrounds” to a “highly centralised, sect-like organisation, a people with a distinct and common identity, and its own full-time, employed leaders, analogous to clergy.”76 Following the change of name and polity in 1878, The Salvation Army experienced a period of rapid growth which was “as striking as that of any post-apostolic missionary movement,” in the view of Murdoch.77 In addition to growth in Europe, the Salvationists soon spread their mission to _______________________________________ 71 Ibid., 28-29; The entire text of the Foundation Deed Poll is found in Ervine, God’s Soldier, II: 1031-1043. 72 The text of the 1878 Deed Poll can be found in Ervine. God’s Soldier. II: 1046-1049. 73 See the overview of the 1877 Conference at which these changes were proposed, and the final Conference, which took place in 1878 in Murdoch Origins of The Salvation Army 88-100 74 Sandall, History of The Salvation Army, I: 228-230. 75 For example, evangelists were now “officers,” stations were now “corps,” and rules of discipline were now published as Orders and Regulations. For summaries of the changes see Murdoch, Origins of The Salvation Army, 104-112; Walker Pulling the Devil’s Kingdom Down 60-63. 76 Hill Leadership in the Salvation Army 49. 77 Murdoch, Origins of The Salvation Army, 115. As Murdoch notes, the period between 1877 and 1887 was particularly remarkable. Whereas there were 36 stations and 39 evangelists in 1877, by 1886 that number had [ Page ] 190 America (1879), Australia (1880), Canada (1882), and India (1882).78 With these basic historical details in place, I will examine some key expressions of Salvationist self-understanding from this early period, with a view to articulating how the movement itself acted as a means of grace for the Salvationist charism of evangelism to those beyond the reach of the established churches. As was the case with the Paulists, the foundational documents of the movement provide some insight into how the early Salvationists understood their particular vocation and charism. Because of the way the movement evolved during the first thirteen years of its existence, there are several significant documents to be considered: the Articles of Faith and Bond of Agreement of the East London Christian Revival Society (1867); the Doctrines and Rules of the Christian Mission (1870); the Foundation Deed Poll (1875), and the final Deed Poll (1878). The 1867 Articles of Faith and Bond of Agreement of the East London Christian Revival Association are sparse and simple documents, reflecting a movement which was just beginning to develop its own unique identity. Only seven articles of faith are listed, and they focus on evangelical essentials and avoid matters of controversy, apart from an affirmation of the universality of the atonement and the potential for all people to receive salvation, which would exclude strong Calvinists.79 The Bond of Agreement focuses on the personal devotion and _____________________________________________________________________________________________________ grown to 1006 “corps” and 2260 “officers” in Britain alone. Ibid., 117-118. Horridge focuses on the years 1878 to 1883 as the most intense period of growth. Horridge, The Salvation Army, 38. The reasons for the growth of The Salvation Army are a matter of debate in the literature, with Horridge claiming the Army’s strength came from its ability to reach people in industrial centres, and Murdoch identifying the use of women in ministry, its use of military imagery, and its freedom from the established church. Ibid., 65, 81-83, 90-91; Murdoch, Origins of The Salvation Army 113 78 See Sandall, History of The Salvation Army, II: 228-260, 272-281. 79 Article 5 states, “We believe that the Lord Jesus Christ has, by His suffering and death made an atonement for the whole world, so that whosoever will may be saved.” The other articles affirm the inspiration of scripture (1), the Trinity (2), the Incarnation (3), total depravity (4), repentance, faith, and regeneration as necessary to salvation (6), and final judgment to eternal happiness or punishment (7). See Appendix 3 in Horridge, The Salvation Army, 253; also Appendix F in Sandall, History of The Salvation Army, I:262-263. [ Page ] 191 commitment of members to the Mission. The document does not specifically state the Mission’s purpose, but it is implied in the second and third articles: 2. We agree to set our hearts upon the salvation of souls, and to put forth constant personal effort to secure the conversion of sinners. 3. We engage, so far as we have opportunity, to attend the meetings held by the Society, both indoors and in the open-air, and to co-operate to the utmost of our ability in every effort put forth by the Society to bring souls to Christ.80 The self-articulated vocation of the Mission members, then, was “the salvation of souls,” implying that they were a movement formed around the charism of evangelism. This early Bond of Agreement makes no mention of a particular group of people to whom the Mission was called, though its name at this time identified “East London” as its missionary location. In 1870, the first General Conference of the Christian Mission adopted a set of Doctrines and Rules,81 which were expanded upon and clarified their earlier Articles and Bond of Agreement. This document, which is really closer to a “constitution” than a set of “rules,” sets out the object of the Mission as “to seek the conversion of the neglected crowds of people who are living without God and without hope, and to gather those so converted into Christian fellowship,” where they can be “watched over and cared for in their religious course.” 82 Here the aim of the Mission has been specified, from simply “the conversion of sinners” to the conversion of “the neglected crowds without God and without hope.” The vocation and therefore the charism of the movement is becoming more clearly focused on those who are being “neglected” by the established churches. A clear indication, however, that the Christian Mission had already _________________________________ 80 Horridge The Salvation Army 253; Sandall History of The Salvation Army I:264. 81 Doctrines and Rules of the Christian Mission (London: William Booth, 1870), courtesy of The Salvation Army International Heritage Centre, London. Cf. the set of “Rules” that are reprinted in Appendix 5 of Horridge’s book, and contain the following statement of purpose: “The object of the Christian Mission is to Preach the Gospel to the masses of the people who attend no place of worship, and to form its converts into societies for the purpose of training them in habits of holy living and useful labour.” Horridge, The Salvation Army, 258. Horridge dates this set of rules to the 1870 Conference, but based on their level of sophistication in comparison with the published Doctrines and Rules which are dated 1870 I suspect that these rules are slightly earlier. 82 Doctrine and Rules, §II.1, p. 3. [ Page ] 192 begun to function as a “church home” for its members, even if it did not claim to be “a church” is seen in the fact that a clause was inserted in the rules making provision for the transfer of membership from “other churches.”83 The movement also moved towards a more clearly articulated Wesleyan theological position, adding articles on the “witness of the Spirit” and entire sanctification,84 although members were “not necessarily” disqualified from membership “by differing from us on minor questions of doctrine,” unless it would prove to be a divisive dispute which would be harmful to the mission.85 The Foundation Deed Poll of 1875 is a much longer document, which is primarily concerned with legal matters and authority structures within the movement. However, it is worth noting briefly the way in which the origins of the Mission are described: ...a number of people were formed in a community or society by the said William Booth for the purpose of enjoying religious fellowship and in order to continue and multiply such efforts as had been made...to bring under the Gospel those who were not in the habit of attending any place of worship by preaching in the open air in Tents Theatres Music Halls and other places and by holding other religious services or meetings...86 As with the 1870 rules, there is a stress on the intent to reach those who did not attend any church, while also acknowledging that part of the purpose of the movement was “religious fellowship.” Although this document was rescinded and replaced in 1878 by the Deed Poll which became the official legal foundation of The Salvation Army, this paragraph describing the origins and purpose of the movement was retained. So, in summary, the foundational constitutional documents of The Salvation Army specifically identify its vocation as being the evangelization of those who were spiritually ____________________________________ 83 “Persons belonging to other churches seeking membership with us shall be admitted on presentation of their note of transfer if such can be obtained.” Ibid. §V.17 p. 8. 84 Articles 8 and 9 Ibid. 2. 85 Ibid., §V.16, p. 8. Also, the section dealing with members begins by simply stating that “All persons shall be eligible for membership who believe on the Son of God to the salvation of their souls, and shall give evidence thereof by their walk and conversation.” Ibid., §V.1, p. 5. 86 Ervine, God’s Soldier, II: 1031. Irregular punctuation in original. [ Page ] 193 neglected, in that they were not being reached by the existing churches. Interestingly, no mention is made in these documents of a specific vocation to “the poor,” though certainly in Booth’s mind poverty and irreligion were connected. On the other hand, a more significant kind of document for early Salvationists during the time of the movement’s formation would have been the Orders and Regulations, prepared in various editions for different ranks and offices within The Salvation Army by William Booth himself. The Orders and Regulations provided detailed guidance for every aspect of Salvationist mission and lifestyle, and Booth urged his members to “thoughtfully and systematically study” its contents, so that they might “adopt and carry out day by day the system laid down” in the book.87 The earliest edition, prepared in 1878, speaks of the Army’s purpose as wholly evangelistic: “to seize the slaves of sin and not only set them free and turn them into children of God, but as far as possible in each case to make them soul-winners.”88 Beyond the fact that the first Orders and Regulations do not explicitly spell out the special vocation of the Army in a succinct way, the document makes it clear that the Salvationist mission is to reach “the rough common people.”89 The Army’s strength is also identified by Booth as its ability to convert these “rough” people and turn them into effective evangelists, and this ability is a sign of God’s power at work in the movement. 90 This trend continues in later editions of these guidebooks. The 1891 Orders and Regulations for Field Officers casts a fairly wide net in identifying the Army’s purpose. The object of the Army is to make all men submit to God, embrace the Salvation provided for them in Christ, and accept Jehovah as their Sovereign, obey His laws, and ____________________________________ 87 William Booth, Orders and Regulations for The Salvation Army (London: Headquarters of The Salvation Army, 1878) 8. 88 Ibid., 1. 89 Ibid., 4. 90 Ibid., 10-11. [ Page ] 194 spend their lives in the loving service of those about them, in order that they may possess His favour both here and hereafter.91 In recounting the story of the movement’s origins, however, these Orders and Regulations stress how Booth saw “multitudes” in East London who were “uncared for by any Religious Agency,” and “decided to devote himself to the discovery and adoption of such methods as would be likely to bring these outcast classes to God.”92 The 1895 Orders and Regulations for Staff Officers similarly stresses the origins of the Army, with Booth noting that he had been led “to make certain efforts to bring the poor people living in the eastern parts of London to a knowledge of God,” then recounting how things grew from there to other parts of London and beyond.93 The statements in the Orders and Regulations, therefore, continue the emphasis already identified in the founding legal documents of the movement, stressing that The Salvation Army was founded to reach classes of people who were neglected by the churches. The typical activities of the early Salvationist movement also attest this vocation of evangelism among the neglected. Their method was based on the principles of “going to the people” and “attracting the people,” and after they had been converted, using those same people to evangelize others from their own community.94 They were thereby attempting to meet these “neglected masses” where they were, rather than expecting them to come to a church service or a church building. According to the first annual report of the Mission (1867), these extensive efforts included three open-air services on Sundays, and three indoor services for members of the mission, along with daily prayer meetings and nightly open-air services from Mondays to _____________________________________ 91 William Booth, Orders and Regulations for Field Officers of The Salvation Army (London: Headquarters of The Salvation Army, 1891), §X.I.2, p. 296. 92 Ibid., §X.I.3, p. 296. 93 William Booth, Orders and Regulations for Staff Officers of The Salvation Army in the United Kingdom (London: Salvation Army International Headquarters 1895) 1. 94 Booth, “How We Began,” 39-40. [ Page ] 195 Thursdays.95 Their efforts to distinguish themselves from “the churches” were in part done in order to appeal to those who were not interesting in joining “churches,” and their indecorous style of worship and spirituality was designed specifically to get the attention of a class of persons Booth believed to have “a most bitter prejudice” against churches and chapels.96 Their adoption of a military language and identity was designed to appeal to a militaristic culture.97 Even their use of women in ministry, while predicated on theological grounds,98 was also undertaken because it was known to attract crowds.99 And finally, their involvement in efforts at social relief were undertaken, in the first instance, not as ends in themselves, but as means to bring the spiritually neglected people of East London to salvation in Christ.100 The early, ad hoc social relief efforts of the movement later developed, however, into the full-blown program of social reform outlined by Booth in his 1890 book, In Darkest England and the Way Out. In chapter III.1 I argued that William Booth’s personal charism did not change, though his understanding of his vocation was expanded later in life when he adopted the Darkest England scheme. The “scheme,” however, had significant implications for the development of The Salvation Army as a movement, and these changes could easily be taken to __________________________________ 95 “Programme of the East London Christian Mission,” in Sandall, History of The Salvation Army, 265-266. See also Booth’s comment in 1882: “Each officer is expected to conduct from 19 to 25 meetings weekly, extending over 30 to 35 hours; to spend 18 hours in visiting from house to house, and to spare no possible effort besides for the good of souls.” William Booth “What is The Salvation Army? ” The Contemporary Review 42 (August 1882): 181. 96 Booth, “Wesleyan Methodist Conference,” 176. 97 Stuart Mews, “The General and the Bishops: Alternative Responses to Dechristianisation,” in Later Victorian Britain, 1867-1900, ed. T. R. Gourvish and Alan O’Day (Basingstoke, UK: Macmillan Education, 1988), 214. Cf. Horridge The Salvation Army 45 98 Catherine Booth was one of the most noted female preachers of her generation, and wrote an early defense of women in ministry, which was first published in 1859, and then again in several different formats. See Catherine Mumford Booth, “Female Ministry, or Woman’s Right to Preach the Gospel,” in Women in The Salvation Army, ed. John D. Waldron (Oakville, ON: Triumph Press, 1983), 3-31. 99 Booth “Wesleyan Methodist Conference ” 177; Horridge The Salvation Army 50-52. 100 See Booth’s comment social ministry as an attempt at “making it easy where it is now difficult, and possible where it is now all but impossible, for men and women to find their way to the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Booth, Darkest England, preface. [ Page ] 196 suggest a change in the charism of the movement.101 The ambitious plan called for the development of a myriad of programs and activities aimed at improving social conditions, grouped under three categories: the “City Colony,” the “Farm Colony,” and the “Over-Sea Colony.”102 These “colonies” were envisioned as “self-helping and self-sustaining communities, each being a kind of co-operative society, or patriarchal family.”103 Booth saw his scheme as “A Great Machine, foundationed in the lowest slums and purlieus of our great towns and cities,” which would draw people out of their miseries, and reform all who were willing to work into honest, industrious, self-sufficient people, moving some of them out of the cities into the country, and some further afield to tracts of land in British Colonies.104 While the plans laid out in Darkest England never came to complete fruition, they were implemented to a degree, and the result was a significant shift in the organization and characteristic activities of The Salvation Army. Booth set about on an ambitious fundraising program, aiming to bring in an initial £100,000, followed by £30,000 per year, and he established the Darkest England Trust, so that the funds raised for the scheme would not be used to support The Salvation Army in its other work.105 As noted, he also established “The Salvation Army Social Reform Wing” in order to implement the scheme. Although it was under Booth’s direct supervision, the Social Reform Wing had its own headquarters and administration, and by January of 1891, 250 Salvation Army officers were set to be dedicated to this work full time.106 In short, the movement as a whole now reflected Booth’s mature vision of “salvation for both ____________________________________ 101 While the question could be addressed as a matter of “ongoing interpretation” (chapter III.4), the change was early enough in the history of the movement to consider it part of its initial formation. 102 For a brief overview see Booth, Darkest England, 91-93. See also Murdoch, Origins of The Salvation Army, 161-163; Horridge, The Salvation Army, 119-121; Green, Life and Ministry of William Booth, 177-178. 103 Booth, Darkest England, 91. 104 Ibid. 93. 105 Sandall, History of The Salvation Army, III: 97. The “Darkest England Trust Deed” can be found in Ervine, God’s Soldier, Appendix IV, pp. II: 1050-1056. 106 Sandall, History of The Salvation Army, III: 97. [ Page ] 197 worlds.”107 Does this change signify a change in ecclesial charism for the movement? While not speaking directly to the question of a “charism,” the arguments of some scholars, such as Murdoch, would seem to suggest that it was indeed a significant change in the overall direction and purpose of the movement. Building on his arguments that The Salvation Army had “failed” in East London, Murdoch suggests that the Darkest England scheme was developed because the Army’s evangelistic ambitions were frustrated, and that Booth “was unclear” on the Army’s mission, allowing it to bifurcate, and “generating a confusion that endures to today.” 108 Murdoch sees the rift between “spiritual” and “social” most clearly in the opposition of George Scott Railton to the social reform efforts. Railton, who was one of Booth’s longest-serving and highest-ranking associates, believed he was keeping Catherine Booth’s more strictly conversionist vision for the movement alive after her death.109 Railton was eventually demoted to minor positions after staging a public protest against the Salvation Army’s insurance program in 1894.110 According to the narrative that Murdoch sketches, therefore, the establishment of the Social Wing exposed a fundamental lack of clarity in the movement regarding its objectives.111 As I argued with respect to Booth’s personal charism in chapter III.1, Murdoch has overstated his case. The movement had been engaged in less organized forms of social relief “almost from its beginnings,”112 and its evangelistic thrust continued after the establishment of ____________________________________ 107 See chapter III.1, 162-167. 108 Murdoch, Origins of The Salvation Army, 167. 109 According to Murdoch, Catherine Booth had embraced social reform efforts by the time of her death in 1890, but still clearly wanted to prioritize evangelism over such efforts, and to maintain a clear distinction between the two. Ibid. 165. 110 Ibid. 166. 111 This interpretation of the development of the Darkest England scheme is not novel, and in fact was proposed by some early critics. See, for example, Robert Archey Woods, English Social Movements (New York: Charles Scriber’s Sons, 1891), 170. Horridge also notes that the British Weekly was highly critical of the Army’s efforts, based on an analysis census data regarding attendance at Army meetings. Horridge The Salvation Army 119. 112 Horridge, The Salvation Army, 17. See also Bennett, The General, II: 32. [ Page ] 198 the Social Wing. There was certainly a change in the activities and organization of the movement after 1890, but this did not signal a change of charism or vocation. Rather, it was the result of a broadened understanding of salvation in Booth’s own mind, working itself out in the institution which he had created. It was, in other words, a very early reinterpretation of the Salvationist charism of evangelism among the neglected. While there may have been dissenting voices (such as Railton) within the movement that objected to this broadened sense of mission, the overall direction of the movement was to follow Booth’s expanded vision, based on his expanded theology of redemption. They were evangelists, proclaiming salvation in word and deed to those who they believed were neglected - only now they were concerned about the socioeconomic marginalization of these people, as well as their spiritual marginalization. They now saw the gospel as extending good news to people in their current social conditions, as well as their spiritual condition. They hoped that all would come to faith in Christ, but were now willing to help all people in temporal need, whether or not they were receptive to the message of salvation. With an expanded understanding of salvation, the task of proclaiming and living out the gospel was also expanded. The Salvationist movement remained focused, however, on living out their charism as evangelists to the neglected, even as they expanded their understanding of the tasks that were involved in exercising that charism. There is some truth to Murdoch’s claim, however, that the change introduced some confusion in the movement, as a result of this broadening of the Army’s theology of redemption. An example of the resulting lack of focus, on an institutional level, can be detected in a definition of The Salvation Army offered as an Appendix to Darkest England. It is an Organisation existing to effect a radical revolution in the spiritual condition of the enormous majority of the people of all lands. Its aim is to produce a change not only in the opinions, feelings, and principles of these vast populations, but to alter the whole course of their lives, so that instead of spending their time in frivolity and pleasure- [ Page ] 199 seeking, if not in the grossest forms of vice, they shall spend it in the service of their generation and in the worship of God. So far as it has mainly operated in professedly Christian countries, where the overwhelming majority of the people have ceased, publicly, at any rate, to worship Jesus Christ, or to submit themselves in any way to His authority.113 If we compare this statement to those in the founding documents of the movement discussed above, it is notable that the focus of the movement’s vocation has expanded from those who are not actively attending a place of worship to “the enormous majority of the people in all lands.” Granted, in the statement quoted above, the Salvationist author assumes that “the overwhelming majority of the people” even in supposedly Christian countries, have ceased to publicly worship Christ, and therefore, might be considered part of the “neglected masses” that The Salvation Army was raised up to reach. However, Booth was still insisting that his movement did not compete with the churches, and that it was focused specifically on those who were resistant to involvement in established churches. In the late Victorian era, this could hardly have been said to include the majority of the world’s population. It may be that the grand scale of Booth’s scheme stretched the Salvationists’ ambitions beyond their true vocation, as they envisioned a world- conquering Army. The fact that The Salvation Army operated as an independent mission, without formal relations with any church, may have contributed to an overgrown sense of self- importance. That is to say, if The Salvation Army had functioned as a missionary society under the guidance of a church, it would have been pushed to focus more on its special vocation of reaching those who were truly unlikely to respond to the spirituality of the Victorian churches, rather than aspiring to save the majority of people in all countries. In summary, then, The Salvation Army formed around the charism of evangelism to the neglected. As a movement, it sought to cultivate and exercise this particular gift and vocation, ___________________________________ 113 “The Salvation Army: A Sketch” by “An Officer of Seventeen Years’ Standing,” in Booth, Darkest England, Appendix, v. [ Page ] 200 through the use of unusual evangelistic techniques, and a unique militaristic identity that resonated with its original context. Like the Paulists, however, the Salvation Army also began with some ambiguities. First, although they explicitly denied that they were “a church,” the movement functioned as a church for its members from an early stage, meaning that they took on pastoral functions as well as their special vocational task. Secondly, their expanding mission in the light of the Darkest England scheme caused a degree of ambiguity concerning the people that the Salvationists were trying to reach with the gospel. While a cogent theological explanation can be given for the expansion of Salvationist mission on the basis of a broadened theology of redemption, the new “dual mission” of the Army may have led to some inflation of the scope of movement’s specific vocation to the neglected. THE SALVATIONIST CHARISM AS INTERPRETED BY OTHERS Again, as was the case with the Paulists, it is necessary that I should attempt to give an account of the Salvationist charism as it was interpreted by others, since all charisms are subject to oversight. This is not so easily done, however, because of The Salvation Army’s ecclesial autonomy. In the case of the Paulists, I was able to identify the episcopate as the office tasked with discernment and oversight, but The Salvation Army had no overseers outside of its own ranks. At best, therefore, I can provide a fragmentary sketch of the reception of the Salvationist charism, by considering the way in which various Christian leaders responded to the Army’s mission and ministry. Since that reception was mixed during the formative years of the movement, it can do little to advance the identification of the Salvationist charism.114 ____________________________________ 114 I would note again that my method in attempting to discern the charism of these movements begins with the self- understanding of each, though I do not presume that such self-understanding is inevitably correct. Each case must be considered in its own right, and in light of its reception by the broader church community. As I am noting at this point, however, it is rather difficult to assess the reception of a charism by those outside the movement when there is no clear office of oversight. [ Page ] 201 As with many new religious movements, The Salvation Army faced considerable opposition during its earliest years. Much of this opposition, however, was not the product of any considered ecclesiological discernment, but rather a reflection of a tradition of local mob opposition to any new religious movement in England in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.115 Such opposition, while an important part of the story of the movement’s early years, is not of particular interest from the perspective of this project, as it was a reflection of popular English culture, more than ecclesial accountability. If we begin, rather, with the Salvationists’ closest theological and ecclesial relatives, the Wesleyan / Methodist tradition, we will see that there was a general ambivalence, particularly in the earlier years of the movement, among church leaders. Some attacked their services as “a travesty of music-hall entertainment,”116 while others described Salvationist activities as “a rude repetition of the work of Wesley and Whitefield.” 117 On the other hand, by 1880, there was enough support for Booth’s movement that he was invited to address the Wesleyan Methodist Annual Conference in 1880, and received a sympathetic hearing, in spite of the fact that he had previously been banned from Wesleyan Methodist pulpits.118 In the early 1880s, as Carolyn Ocheltree notes, some discomfort remained among Wesleyan Methodists with regard to Salvationist “eccentricities,” _____________________________________ 115 A good account of this “rough-musicing” tradition as it relates to The Salvation Army is found in chapter 4 of Horridge, The Salvation Army, 92-113. After 1880, a particularly organized version of such opposition emerged with the rise of the “Skeleton Armies” in several places, which engaged in sustained attacks on Salvationists and their work. Walker, Pulling the Devil’s Kingdom Down, 225-228; Sandall, History of The Salvation Army, II: 193- 197. Likewise, because of these public disturbances created by Salvation Army activities, the movement often received negative attention from the press. Horridge, The Salvation Army, 121-122. The amount of press coverage was such that, by 1882, the future Archbishop of Canterbury, Randall T. Davidson, could comment that “The Salvation Army has succeeded beyond all precedent in bringing its existence and its work into public notoriety; and one of the main difficulties to be encountered by anyone who now tries to write upon the subject, is the fact that almost all that can be said about it has been said already.” Randall T. Davidson, “The Methods of The Salvation Army ” The Contemporary Review 42 (August 1882): 189 116 W. B. Newton, Address Respecting the Methods of The Salvation Army (London: Houlston and Sons, 1882), cited in Horridge, The Salvation Army, 113. 117 From the June 2, 1881 edition of The Methodist Times, cited in Ibid., 123. 118 Andrew M. Eason and Roger J. Green, eds., Boundless Salvation: The Shorter Writings of William Booth (New York: Peter Lang, 2012), 166-167. The address was originally published in The Methodist Recorder (August 10, 1880), 611-612, and is reprinted in Ibid., 173-177. [ Page ] 202 but this was counterbalanced by a growing appreciation for the Army’s work among poor people who were not comfortable in Methodist chapels.119 By the mid 1880s, support and appreciation had grown to the extent that there was musing in the editorial pages of the Wesleyan Methodist Magazine about either a “Methodist Army” or a more formal partnership between the existing Salvation Army and the Methodist church.120 In 1885, Hugh Price Hughes, then editor of the Methodist Times, wrote approvingly of The Salvation Army as a fresh expression of the Methodist movement,121 though he was less supportive of Booth’s Darkest England scheme five years later, worrying that it was a form of socialism under the guise of Christianity.122 Of course, Methodists had concerns about the Salvationist position on the sacraments, even before William Booth decided to fully stop their observance altogether at Salvation Army meetings.123 Horridge notes that support was particularly strong among other Nonconformists, and that prominent Baptist Charles Haddon Spurgeon allowed Salvationists to share his pulpit.124 At the same time, it must be said that there were some rather vicious attacks, such as that launched by the Swiss ____________________________________ 119 Carolyn Ocheltree, “Wesleyan Methodist Perceptions of William Booth,” Methodist History 28, no. 4 (July 1990): 271. For example, William H. Booth (no relation) expressed support in the May 1881 Wesleyan Methodist Magazine, noting that the Salvationists’ crude methods attracted many “parson-hating, chapel-shunning vagrants” who would never darken the door of a Methodist chapel.” Cited in Eason and Green, Boundless Salvation, 167. 120 Ocheltree makes note of this, and notes that “insuperable doctrinal barriers” were identified - presumably the sacramental issues. Ocheltree. “Wesleyan Methodist Perceptions of William Booth” 273-274. 121 “Their teaching is essentially Methodistic, and all the characteristic features of their organisation are modifications of our own.” The Methodist Times (February 12, 1885), 1, cited in Eason and Green, Boundless Salvation, 165. See also the comment of Rev. John V. B. Shrewsbury in The Wesleyan Methodist Magazine (September 1888), 702: “...as Methodism was raised up by God to quicken the Church of England, God (may) h raised up the Salvation Army to quicken Methodism.” Cited in Ocheltree, “Wesleyan Methodist Perceptions of William Booth,” 275-276. 122 Horridge, citing in The Methodist Times (September 18, 1890), 956, notes that Hughes “thought that the General was embracing socialism because he had realised “that Christianity must save society was well as the individual.”” Horridge, The Salvation Army, 121. 123 Ocheltree, “Wesleyan Methodist Perceptions of William Booth,” 269. As Eason and Green note, this was obviously “a significant departure from Methodist ecclesiology.” Boundless Salvation, 167-168. I will discuss this change in more detail in chapter III.3. 124 Horridge, The Salvation Army, 113. In fact, Spurgeon’s support dated back to the early 1870s. See Bramwell Booth, Echoes and Memories (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1925), 33-35. [ Page ] 203 Comtesse de Gasparin in 1883, comparing Booth’s autocratic rule to that of Ignatius Loyola.125 While opinion was divided among Anglican leaders throughout the late 1870s and 1880s, several bishops expressed support, and joint services were even observed at several Anglican parishes in the early 1880s, one of which took place with the consent of the Archbishop of York.126 This continued into the 1890s, with several Bishops endorsing Booth’s Darkest England scheme, though there were certainly Anglican critics of the scheme as well.127 In the next chapter I will address the talks that took place between The Salvation Army and the Church of England in 1882 and 1883 concerning a potential formal partnership, but at this point it should be noted that the fact that such negotiations took place signals a significant if qualified recognition on the part of Anglican bishops of the Salvationist charism.128 Moving outside the realm of Protestant commentary, Cardinal Henry Manning - one of the few figures who interacted with both Salvationists and Paulists - also provided an assessment of The Salvation Army, noting some positive aspects but also highlighting “fears” regarding the movement’s peculiar practices and tendencies. In an 1882 article in The Contemporary Review, Manning provides a backhanded affirmation for the Salvationist charism of evangelizing the un- churched by noting what he believed to be the profound failures of the Church of England at that time.129 He was further willing to grant that The Salvation Army was indeed doing some good, because its message appealed to fundamental truths that touched on the consciences of all ______________________________________ 125 “Military despotism carried into the spiritual domain, - and extended into the temporal, - battalions, battles, conquests, all existed before Mr. Booth. It was called then monastic spirit, monastic organization, monastic power, monastic encroachments. And there was one, long before Mr. Booth, who was called a General - of the Jesuits.” La Comtesse Agénor de Gasparin, Read and Judge the (so-called) Salvation Army, trans by. E.O.B. (London: Griffith & Farran, 1883), 32. See also p. 34. 126 Mews, “The General and the Bishops,” 215. Horridge, The Salvation Army, 113-114. 127 Horridge The Salvation Army 121 128 For more evidence of positive Anglican reactions see Sandall History of The Salvation Army II: 136-140. 129 “It would surely be within the truth to say that half the population in London are practically without Christ and without God in the world. If this be so, then we can see how and why the Salvation Army exists. In a population full of faith and religious life, it could have no place.” Henry Edward Manning, “The Salvation Army,” The Contemporary Review 42 (September 1882): 336. Granted, Manning is partly using The Salvation Army’s “success” as a backhanded way to make an attack on the Church of England’s “failures.” [ Page ] 204 people, and therefore it was spreading “good seed” which would “grow whoever sows it.”130 He outlined a list of “fears” concerning Salvationist practices, including its imprudent brashness, its teaching on the possibility of instantaneous sanctification, the use of public testimonies of new converts, the emotionalism of the meetings, Booth’s vain hope to avoid sectarianism, and the use of “low language” to describe divine matters.131 His conclusion was that the “fears” concerning the Army “greatly overbalance” the hopes, and expressed his prayer that “those who labour so fervently with the truths they know may be led into the fullness of faith.” 132 Manning’s assessment, of course, reflects the ecclesiological presuppositions of his time, which means he can only see the Salvationist’s teaching, and hence their mission, as a fragmentary presentation of the true faith. Much stronger praise came from one of Manning’s biographers, who optimistically mused that the basic agreements among Catholics and Salvationists on the virtue of obedience and matters of fundamental doctrine might eventually lead the Salvationists to find their way into the Catholic fold, leading to a great expansion of the Catholic faith in England.133 As one would expect, then, given the state of relations between Protestants and Catholics in Victorian England, there was little recognition of the Salvationist charism from Catholics, although there was some appreciation of their zeal and their ability to reach the neglected. __________________________________________ 130 He continues, “Imperfect or unauthorized preaching in the unity of the Church is disorder, but outside its unity it is at least so much of truth made known to those who will not listen to its perfect voice.” Ibid., 337. 131 Ibid., 338-342. One year earlier, The Tablet had expressed a similar set of concerns regarding the Army’s strange and emotional proceedings, and “outrageously irreverent” phraseology, but noted that “the earnestness which they have manifested has attracted many,” and that its language “appears to be the dialect which goes home most easily to those to whom it is addressed.” Cited in Sandall History of The Salvation Army II: 143. 132 Manning “The Salvation Army ” 342 133 “The Army has a growing affinity with Catholicism, and its members, accustomed to an autocratic rule, might very well find in some future Archbishop of Westminster the successor who will surely one day be needed, if the organization is to be held together at all. Of course these soldiers and salvation lasses are far enough from being Catholics at present; but they have accepted fully the fundamental principle of Catholicism - obedience...A simple, certain faith is theirs, - belief in God, in sin, a Redeemer, the Bible, judgment, salvation, heaven and hell; and this simple faith is a far more serviceable basis on which to build a permanent structure of Catholicism, than the clever literary quibbles by which men better educated are able to persuade themselves that they hold to the old faith. There is thus a promising field for an expansion of the Catholic Church...” Arthur Wollaston Hutton, Cardinal Manning (London: Methuen & Co., 1892), 257. [ Page ] 205 In summary, responses to the Salvationist charism from church leaders was sharply divided, with some seeing it as a real hope for reaching those who seemed to be beyond the reach of the established churches, and others seeing it as a profane mockery of true religion and a manifestation of a perverse religious fanaticism. Because the Salvationists had no formal overseers who might provide for some kind of approbation or correction of their charism, I have attempted to make use of this divided set of reactions as a means of finding some confirmation of the Salvationist charism from outside the movement itself. The fragmentary nature of the evidence means that, in fact, I can say little in a definitive sense about the reception of the Salvationist charism by the Church. Thus, the ecclesial autonomy of The Salvation Army, that is, its status as a separated movement, and thus its participation in ecclesial division, rather ensuring the preservation of its charism, prevents the movement from receiving any clear authentication of its charism. CONCLUSION Both the Paulist Fathers and The Salvation Army were formed around a charism of evangelism focused on a particular group of people. For the Paulists it was Americans, and for the Salvationists it was the neglected masses. While both movements can be said to have served as means of grace for their particular charism, the exercise of the charism by each movement was hindered by certain problems. The Paulists were not able to clearly establish their specific purpose in their founding documents, and therefore left themselves open to distraction by tasks and responsibilities beyond the evangelization of America. The main problem this created was that the Paulists were responsible for parish work, which sapped much of their meagre resources in their formative years, and at times led them to suspend their mission work. They were forced [ Page ] 206 into this position, however, by a lack of reception of their charism by those exercising authority over them. The political and ecclesiastical climate of their day meant that American culture and institutions were viewed with suspicion by many Catholic bishops, and the Paulists were therefore forced to downplay the American aspects of their charism. Because its members were not affiliated with any established church, the Salvationist movement was also forced to take on pastoral duties, and to function as a “church home” for its members, even though Salvationist leaders officially denied that the Army was “a church.” Although these pastoral tasks were not imposed upon the movement, it introduced a tension into the Salvationist movement that would grow over time, as will be seen in chapter III.4. The Salvationist charism was also hindered by a lack of oversight for the Salvationist movement. Because it operated as an independent mission without ties to any church body, The Salvation Army received no formal correction or direction from an outside authority. Thus, in their case, their participation in ecclesial division prevented them from receiving any approbation of their charism, and from further guidance, which may have helped them to remain focused on their particular charism as the movement continued to grow. [ Page ] 207 CHAPTER III.3 ECCLESIOLOGY OF THE MOVEMENT The theology of ecclesial charisms I have been proposing carries significant ecclesiological implications, particularly as it relates to the relationship between specialized vocational movements and the Church. As I argued in part II, the theology of ecclesial charisms supports a vision of ecclesial unity which is visible, historical, and organic. Charisms are functionally interdependent, and given for the edification of the whole body of Christ. Movements formed around a particular charism, then, must also see themselves as interdependent parts of the whole, and recognize their place as a specialized ecclesial body, rather than attempting to take on the functions of a church, which is characterized by a multiplicity of charisms. The unique vocation and function of movements within the Church will be best served by recalling that each exists as an institutional means of grace, which is called to cultivate, preserve, and exercise its particular charism. In this chapter I will examine the ecclesiological assumptions of the Paulist Fathers and The Salvation Army, to see how each movement understood itself in relation to the Church, and explore the ways in which the movement’s ecclesiological self-understanding relates to my normative proposals regarding specialized vocational movements. How did each movement articulate its particular vocation in relation to the mission of the Church as a whole? How was the relationship between movement and church lived out, practically speaking? How did each movement see its particular charism as providentially related to the challenges of the Church in the late 19th century? How might my proposed theology of charisms help to clarify and augment the ecclesiological assumptions of each movement? The Paulists understood their movement in a way that accords very well with my [ Page ] 208 proposal concerning ecclesial charisms. Building on Hecker’s emphasis on the Spirit, and his belief in the need for a more “interior” and yet more active Roman Catholic church, the Paulists saw themselves as a special body of priests raised up by God to meet the needs of the age. They understood themselves to be internally and directly led by the Spirit, but also believed that the Spirit worked unfailingly through the external authority of the Catholic Church. Therefore, while they believed themselves to have a special calling to evangelize America, they submitted themselves to the oversight of the Catholic hierarchy rather than breaking off from the Catholic church when their plans were not completely accepted by the bishops. The theology of ecclesial charisms, however, might have made a significant difference for the Paulists if it had been embraced by nineteenth century Catholic ecclesiology, both as seen in Paulist ecclesiological assumptions and those of the hierarchy. Had the bishops been committed to the idea that a movement, such as the Paulists, should focus exclusively on their particular charism, they might not have assigned the Paulists to pastoral duties, and this would have freed the Paulists to focus their energies on evangelism. Likewise, if the Paulists had conceived of the oversight of charism as a charism among others, rather than an absolute test of the Spirit’s guidance, they might have held more tightly to their convictions concerning their own charism. Early Salvation Army ecclesiology, on the other hand, was marked by a profound ambiguity. Booth and his fellow Salvationists embraced a “non-sectarian” conception of their movement, and saw themselves as a missionary society, rather than a Christian denomination. However, by remaining autonomous from all other ecclesial bodies, the Salvationists ended up taking on the functions of a “church” from an early stage in their history, in spite of their insistence that they were not a church. The situation was made even more ambiguous by Booth’s occasional claims that his Army and its officers were on equal footing with any church [ Page ] 209 and any set of ordained clergy. The Salvation Army’s negotiations with the Church of England, and its decision to stop all sacramental observance in 1883, will further illustrate the ambiguities of Salvationist ecclesiology. From the perspective of ecclesial charisms, The Salvation Army ought not to have remained autonomous, but should have sought formal institutional partnership with a church, so that it could remain focused on serving as a means of grace for the Salvationist charism. In so doing, Salvationists would have avoided their hybrid movement-church status, and would have been able to avoid their later evolution into a denominational church - a prospect which they greatly feared during their earliest years. Because of their ecclesiological presuppositions, Salvationists were not able to see that their existence as an autonomous body was in fact a hindrance to the exercise of their charism. PAULIST ECCLESIOLOGY: THE RENEWAL OF THE WORLD THROUGH THE RENEWAL OF THE CHURCH Isaac Hecker’s vision of the Paulists was set within his lifelong question for authentic renewal of human society, which, as he came to believe even before his conversion to Catholicism, was only possible through religion. Once he became a Catholic, of course, he believed that all renewal would be brought about through the Catholic Church, in which was found the fullness of religious truth. This was how he narrated his spiritual quest to Cardinal Barnabò in 1858 while pleading his case in Rome,1 and the fundamentals of this vision for renewal remained relatively constant throughout his life. In 1875 Hecker wrote a significant essay entitled An Exposition on the Needs of the Church and the Age, which he himself viewed as having a similar importance to his 1858 statement to Barnabò. It was a programmatic ___________________________________ 1 See the passage cited above in chapter III.1, in The Paulist Vocation, Revised and Expanded (New York: Paulist Press, 2000), 51-52. [ Page ] 210 exposition of his ideas, submitted to “competent judges in Rome” as a test of his views.2 Though his ideas concerning the Providential shaping of history had developed over the years, Hecker’s understanding of the relationship between personal, ecclesial and social reform maintains the same basic outline from 1858: Religion is the solution of the problem of man’s destiny. Religion, therefore, lies at the root of everything which concerns man’s true interests Religion means Christianity, to all men, or to nearly all, who hold to any religion among European nations. Christianity, intelligibly understood, signifies the Church, the Catholic Church. The Church is God acting through a visible organization directly on men, and, through men, on society. The Church is the sum of all problems, and the most potent fact in the whole wide universe. It is therefore illogical to look elsewhere for the radical remedy of all our evils. It is equally unworthy of a Catholic to look elsewhere for the renewal of religion.3 Hecker stressed God’s direct action on human persons through the Spirit. Reform of society would take place through the action of the Holy Spirit in the lives of individuals, and hence the heart of Hecker’s vision for the “renewal of the age” was “a greater effusion of the Holy Spirit,” which he believed to be dependent upon “increased attention and fidelity” to the Spirit’s action.4 While Hecker maintained that the outpouring of the Spirit upon human persons was the source of all true renewal and reform, he firmly wedded this “interior” action of the Spirit on the human soul to the “external” authority of the Church. Thus his connection between this great “effusion” and an increased “attention” to the Spirit highlights not only his generous view of human agency in response to divine grace, but also points towards the correlating “attention” to be given to the external authority of the Church as a test of the Spirit’s guidance. This ensures the _____________________________________ 2 This background to the essay comes from a letter from Hecker to Hewit, November 14, 1874, cited in O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 269. Larry Hostetter, in his extensive study of Hecker’s theology of reform, argues that the Exposition “represented the mature development of Hecker’s thought.” Hostetter, The Ecclesial Dimension, 436. It was originally published in London, and simultaneously appeared in America as “An Exposition of the Church.” It was republished as the first chapter of Hecker’s later book, The Church and the Age. Citations in this chapter will be to the edition found in The Church and the Age. 3 Hecker, The Church and the Age, 22. The phrase “the sum of all problems” is an odd descriptor for the Church, to be sure, but based on what Hecker says elsewhere, I believe Hecker means to say that the Church is the solution to all problems. 4 Ibid., 26. [ Page ] 211 complementarity of charism and institution in Hecker’s theology. Attempting, on the one hand, to ward off the “delusions, errors, and heresies” that might result from a lack of external authority, and on the other, the “formal,” “servile,” and “sterile” faith that would result from a lack of interior inspiration, Hecker advocated for a theological understanding of the Spirit’s action as twofold, “embodied visibly in the authority of the Church, and the action of the Holy Spirit dwelling invisibly in the soul,” in “one inseparable synthesis.”5 In cases of doubt, he argued, in a traditional Catholic manner, that personal inspirations must be submitted to the wisdom of the Church’s external authority.6 In this way he set up the Church’s external authority as a “safeguard” against fanaticism, while emphasizing that the work of the Spirit in the individual was primary.7 A key problem with this “synthetic” or complementary construal of the Spirit’s twofold work is that it left Hecker with no way of accounting for the misapprehension of the Paulist charism by the bishops, and their insistence on using the Paulists as parish priests. From Hecker’s perspective, the external authority of the Church was to be trusted, and so, in order to be consistent, he would have to accept the decision of his bishop in New York as a definitive rejection of his desire to have a solely missionary community. Was the assignment of the Paulist community to a parish an example of the episcopacy “safeguarding” against the community’s own erroneous discernment of their evangelistic charism? That seems to be the only conclusion one could draw, based on Hecker’s presuppositions. Although, as I will continue to argue, much _________________________________________ 5 Ibid., 33. 6 Ibid., 35. Portier rightly notes a “lack of sophistication” in Hecker’s test of inspiration, and suggests it provides little help to those caught in a conflict between individual discernment and the decisions of those in authority. Portier Isaac Hecker and the First Vatican Council 154. 7 As Hostetter notes, Hecker’s framing of the Church’s external authority as “safeguard” for the individual Christian’s immediate experience of the Spirit was “perhaps not what Pius IX and the council fathers of the majority had in mind when the doctrine of papal infallibility was defined,” but it was “Hecker’s way of trying to show the world that the Church was not an autocratic institution, but one that only used its external authority as a safeguard.” Hostetter, The Ecclesial Dimension, 391. [ Page ] 212 of Hecker’s ecclesiology is congruent with my proposed theology of ecclesial charisms, his view of the Church’s external authority tends to lift up the charism of oversight as a charism above all others, which enables its bearer a final and unquestioned authority in matters of discernment. This stands in contrast with my own position, which makes it clear that oversight is one charism among others, which has an important authenticating role, but is limited by its interdependence with other charisms, and which does not provide the overseers with sure and certain ability for discernment in any given situation.8 From this perspective, Hecker might not have acquiesced to the demand that the Paulists take on a parish, but might have held out for approval of his community as a purely missionary movement. In any case, Hecker believed that the answer to the problems of both church and world was to be found in the submission of human persons to the work of the Spirit in their life, or as Farina succinctly states, “The cure for the world’s problems was Spirit-filled individuals.”9 But this was not merely a vision of a more pious and religiously observant Catholic faithful. Because of his Catholic understanding of the relationship between nature and grace, Hecker believed that the outpouring of the Holy Spirit would elevate all of humanity’s natural faculties, redirecting them to their proper ends, and thereby producing a renewal in all sectors of human society. Further, within the Catholic spectrum of views on nature and grace, Hecker’s own view of human nature and of the world was quite positive and optimistic, meaning that he believed, in Hostetter’s words, that the world “was not to be rejected” because it was “created by God and therefore could contribute to the perfection of individuals and society.”10 Hecker believed that ____________________________________ 8 See above, chapter II.2, page 71. 9 Farina, An American Experience of God, 150. 10 Hostetter, The Ecclesial Dimension, 400. It could be said that Hecker’s optimism was the result of a weak view of original sin, an issue over which his relationship with Orestes Brownson was strained in the late 1860s. Brownson charged that Hecker denied original sin in some of his writings, and complained of the way his articles for the Catholic World were edited to exclude his views on the subject. See the correspondence from January 24 to March 17, 1868, in The Brownson-Hecker Correspondence, 233-246. [ Page ] 213 the tendencies of “the age” were not to be rejected outright. Rather, what was needed was an antidote to the superficiality, materialism, one-sided scientific inquiry, disorder, impiety, and effeminacy of nineteenth century Western culture, and it would be found in the Spirit’s gifts, which would “divinely illuminate” and “fortify” the minds and wills of men and women, bearing fruit with the counter-virtues for each of the vices of the age. What “the age” called for was people “whose minds are enlightened and whose wills are strengthened by an increased action of the Holy Spirit,” and “whose souls are actuated by the gifts of the Holy Spirit.”11 This great outpouring, which Hecker believed was taking place during his lifetime, would therefore lead to a reinvigorated Catholic Church and a renewed human society: The increased action of the Holy Spirit, with a more vigorous co-operation on the part of the faithful, which is in process of realization, will elevate the human personality to an intensity of force and grandeur productive of a new era to the Church and to society - an era difficult for the imagination to grasp, and still more difficult to describe in words, unless we have recourse to the prophetic language of the inspired Scriptures.12 In short, Hecker believed the Church to be the “means of establishing the complete reign of the Holy Spirit in the soul, and consequently of bringing the kingdom of heaven upon earth.”13 The reaction to Hecker’s ideas on the Spirit in his Exposition was mixed.14 While it received some good reviews in French and German periodicals, and was welcomed by Henry Manning, others worried that he was leaning too close to “illuminism,” and suggested that his _____________________________________ 11 Hecker, The Church and the Age, 26-28. 12 Ibid., 39-40. Again, the importance of co-operation on the part of human agents in the context of the Church’s external structures is important to note. 13 Ibid., 50. 14 The mixed reception began even before the essay was published. He had originally intended to publish it in Rome, but the manuscript was met by disapproval from the Roman hierarchy and the publication was blocked, prompting Hecker’s move to publish in London. This was after a two-week period of reflection, and was a decision taken in light of the fact that he had received favourable feedback from a number of other important Catholics. O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 274-275; Farina, An American Experience of God, 149. As Farina later notes, this decision to publish in London “apparently had not incurred any hard feelings on the part of Propaganda.” Ibid., 154. [ Page ] 214 ideas were derived from Protestant theology.15 This aversion to Hecker’s pneumatological emphasis, however, either misreads or overlooks the essential role he had assigned the Church as “the medium through which individual men and women receive the Spirit and are given the grace to be faithful to the Spirit’s guidance.”16 Furthermore, as Portier has noted, Hecker’s teaching concerning the Spirit’s internal work was taken from traditional Catholic sources, even if the strong way he emphasized the Spirit’s action in individuals resonates to a certain extent with Protestant spirituality.17 Taking another approach, John Henry Newman pushed back both against Hecker’s optimism, and against his suggestion that a greater outpouring of the Spirit was all that was required for worldwide reform.18 Undaunted by such concerns, Hecker continued to espouse these ideas concerning the work of the Spirit and social reform into the later years of his life, and they continued to be integral to his understanding of the Paulist vocation. THE CHURCH AND PROVIDENTIAL HISTORY As will already be evident from my discussion of Hecker in previous chapters, he had a very strong view of divine providence, and was keen to make use of a providential reading of human history and contemporary events as a means of interpreting God’s action in both the ______________________________________ 15 Farina, An American Experience of God, 154-156. See also William Portier’s summary of the European reception in Isaac Hecker and the First Vatican Council, 159-168. 16 Hostetter The Ecclesial Dimension 384. 17 Portier highlights connections between Methodist and Calvinist sources and Hecker’s pneumatology, but also notes that “Hecker’s contemporaries recognized his statements about the action of the Holy Spirit in the soul as ordinary if not banal repetitions of the common property of the Catholic tradition.” Thus Hecker’s perspective “was not shared by the majority,” but can be seen in other sources, such as Manning’s two books on the Spirit, which also espouse a “twofold” work of the Spirit. Portier, Isaac Hecker and the First Vatican Council, 147-149. Cf. Henry Edward Manning, The Temporal Mission of the Holy Ghost, or, Reason and Revelation (London: Longmans, Green, & Co., 1865); Henry Edward Manning, The Internal Mission of the Holy Ghost (London: Burns & Oates, 1875). 18 “Whereas you infer ‘we are so bad we are sure to get better,’...I feel there is another inference conceivable and possible in fact: ‘we are so bad off, that we are likely to get worse.’” Newman to Hecker, April 10, 1875, cited in O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 275. [ Page ] 215 Church and the world.19 His 1875 Exposition is “nothing less than an essay in metahistorical interpretation” in which Hecker was attempting “to discern what God was trying to do” through world events.20 Therefore, as he surveyed the events taking place in Europe, and the marginalization of the Catholic Church by Western governments, Hecker was confident “the hand of God” was at work, and that “a better and brighter future” was on the horizon.21 Part of this reading of history included his understanding of the development of Catholic dogma as a response to challenges faced by the Church.22 Just as the pronouncements of early church councils put an end to the strife raised by various heretics, Hecker came to believe that the definition of papal infallibility at Vatican I was the triumphant conclusion to the struggles which began during the Protestant Reformation.23 The Council of Trent, Hecker believed, had refuted Protestant errors without fully developing the dogma of ecclesial authority, and therefore during the intervening three centuries, the “chief occupation of the Church” had been “the maintenance of that authority conferred by Christ on St. Peter and his successors.” Now “the contest was terminated forever in the dogmatic definition of papal infallibility, by the Church assembled in council in the Vatican.”24 This line of thinking formed part of the justification for Hecker’s view ___________________________________ 19 As Portier notes, Hecker’s tendencies in this regard reflected a long-standing American tradition of thinking that “sought to discern the hand of God in the events of history.” Portier, Isaac Hecker and the First Vatican Council, 143. 20 O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 269-270. 21 Hecker, The Church and the Age, 9. 22 Ibid., 10. 23 Hecker arrived at this perspective on Vatican I only after considered reflection, and his mature perspective on this issue was articulated in the Exposition. Initially, the outcomes of the Council were a great disappointment to Hecker. As Portier states, “From a human point of view, everything that could possibly have gone wrong at the council did in fact go wrong. Every cause into which Hecker poured his energy and enthusiasm was defeated and his efforts turned to nought...In the end he experienced the council as a test of faith.” He was hoping for Catholicism to take a progressive turn, and to intensify its focus on the interior life of the Spirit, but it had instead produced a definition of papal infallibility. See n. 25 below. The Exposition, then, represents Hecker’s re-formulation of his understanding of divine providence in light of the disappointments of Vatican I, along with his intensified struggle with illness and clashes with other Paulists. Portier, Isaac Hecker and the First Vatican Council, 135-136. 24 Hecker, The Church and the Age, 12. Hecker does not seem to have been in favour of the definition of infallibility before the Council, as he was closely aligned with some of the bishops who objected to it. However, he supported the definition wholeheartedly after the Council. See O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 226-239; Farina, An American Experience of God, 139; Hostetter, The Ecclesial Dimension, 385. [ Page ] 216 that the Church was entering into a time which would see an increased outpouring of the Spirit, because the conclusion of this period of dogmatic development meant that the Church would now be free to turn its focus away from questions of authority and focus more on the interior life. Within this view of the Church’s providential history, Hecker assigned a very important place to movements of the religious life. The birth of such movements was part of God’s providential plan to supply the needs of the particular age in which they arose. While the life of Christian perfection to which all religious aspire is intrinsic to the gospel, “religious institutions and their peculiar forms of acquiring this perfection are adapted to the peculiar needs of their times and other special circumstances.” They will normally continue to exist during later periods of the Church’s life, but as times change they will no longer be “the most active and efficient agents of the Church for meeting the pressing wants of the hour.” Thus, as God’s providential guidance of the Church proceeds through her historical life, “she brings forth at every period children like giants ready to run their course.”25 In relation to the Reformation, therefore, Hecker identified the Jesuits as the antithesis to the Protestant attack on Papal authority. As the Dominicans had arisen to combat the errors of the Waldensians and Albigenses, and as the Franciscans had arisen to combat the dangers of wealth and luxury, so the Jesuits were created to counteract the “new and strange errors” and “alarming threats” of the Reformation.26 In their devotion to the Pope and their characteristic emphasis on obedience, he saw that the “traits of a perfect Jesuit formed the antithesis of a thorough Protestant.”27 Indeed, Hecker’s estimate of the importance of such movements in the ____________________________________ 25 Hecker, The Church and the Age, 202. See also Hecker’s essay “On the Mission of New Religious Communities,” in The Paulist Vocation, 276-299. 26 “Providence supplied new men and new weapons to meet the new perils. St. Ignatius, filled with faith and animated with heroic zeal, came to the rescue, and formed an army of men devoted to the service of the Church and specially suited to encounter its peculiar dangers.” Hecker The Church and the Age 13. 27 Ibid., 14. [ Page ] 217 life of the Church is so great that he credits the Jesuits for making such devotion and obedience to the Pope the “distinguishing mark of a sincere Catholic,” and further claims, that the definition of papal infallibility at Vatican I was the “logical outcome of the existence of the Society founded by St. Ignatius of Loyola...for this was the final word of victory of Divine Truth over the specific error which the Jesuits were specially called to combat.”28 Hecker also proposed theories concerning “the providential mission of the races” as evidence of the providential shaping of world history.29 Hecker’s proposal was that the various human races had “characteristic gifts” given to them by God, all of which were intended for the building up of the universal church. These gifts were gifts of nature, which needed to be elevated by divine grace in order to serve their purpose of enriching the life of the Church. Hecker insisted that it was not the case that each race imposed its own characteristics on the Church, but that they were rather “employed in the Church” by God, in order that the races might reach “their highest development,” thus bringing glory to God.30 Hecker’s theory was built on a basic four-fold classification of races: Latins, Celts, Greeks, and Saxons, with “mixed Saxons” forming a sub-group of the Saxon race. Supporting his earlier comments about the development of doctrine and practice in early modern Catholicism, Hecker argued that the Latin-Celtic races (by which he means primarily the French and Italian cultures) “are characterized by hierarchical, traditional, and emotional tendencies” which “were the human elements which furnished the Church with the means of developing and completing her supreme authority, her divine and ecclesiastical traditions, her discipline, her devotions, and her aesthetics.”31 On the other hand, ____________________________________ 28 Ibid., 15. 29 On the background for Hecker’s understanding of the “races,” Portier comments that Hecker most likely took his ideas from common sense Romantic interpretations of history, which drew on the “cult of genius” as applied to groups. The result was a “well travelled” idea of “special destinies for nations and people.” Portier, Isaac Hecker and the First Vatican Council 156 30 Hecker. The Church and the Age. 40-41. 31 Ibid., 43. [ Page ] 218 the Saxons and mixed Saxons (by which he means mainly the German and English cultures), “predominate in the rational element, in an energetic individuality, and in great practical activity in the material order,” and therefore reacted against the strong emphasis on external authority in the Latin-Celt dominated Catholic church. This was, in Hecker’s understanding, a failure to distinguish between the true “gifts” of the Latin-Celtic races and their “excesses.” The Saxons, he argued, wrongly identified the excesses of those races with the Church of God. They failed to take in to sufficient consideration the great and constant efforts the Church had made, in her national and general councils, to correct the abuses and extirpate the vices which formed the staple of their complaints.32 Therefore, the Reformation was seen as resulting in part from such “misunderstandings, weaknesses, and jealousies on both sides,” which, “with various other causes, led thousands and millions of Saxons and Anglo-Saxons to resistance, hatred, and finally open revolt against the authority of the Church.”33 While Hecker’s theories about the “characteristic gifts” of different races might seem simplistic (if not offensive) to contemporary readers, it is important to recognize how these ideas grew out of his larger vision of God’s providential guidance of history, his positive view of nature and its potential elevation by divine grace, and his ardent belief that a time of great renewal was on the horizon.34 There are also some interesting similarities between Hecker’s comments on the “gifts” of the races and charisms. Because I have argued that charisms, properly speaking, do not exist outside the Church,35 I would not want to directly identify such “gifts,” if they indeed did exist, with charisms. Any natural “gift,” if taken up by the Spirit, might potentially be transformed into a spiritual gift, and thereby become a charism for the _____________________________________ 32 Ibid. 33 Ibid., 44. 34 Hostetter, The Ecclesial Dimension, 392. 35 See above, chapter III.1, p. 140. [ Page ] 219 edification of the body of Christ. Thus, it is conceivable that some aspect of a particular cultural identity might be taken up and transformed into a charism. However, it is problematic that Hecker’s Romanticism here leads him to presuppose something divinely granted to each of these proposed “races,” and claim that each of these racial gifts finds its true fulfilment in the Catholic tradition as the synthesis of all that is good, true and beautiful. As such, his vision for providential charismatic gifting is overly simplistic and optimistic with regard to the origin of ethnic identities, as well as being questionable in its particular proposals regarding the various races. There is, therefore, a danger in Hecker’s radical providentialism, in that it simplistically supposes a divine blessing at work in world-historical developments, and this danger is evident particularly here in the triumphalistic way he uses “gifts” to provide a divine sanction and origin for stereotypical cultural traits. A NEW PHASE OF CHURCH: INTERIOR, INTELLIGIBLE, ACTIVE The past “misunderstandings” of the Reformation did not cause Hecker to despair, however, because of his belief that the Catholic Church was entering into a “new phase” of its history, now that the question of external authority had been so decisively settled at Vatican I. It was now time to turn aside from a heavy emphasis on external authority, and focus on the interior, intelligible, and active aspects of the Church’s life. As O’Brien summarizes, Hecker believed that in his time, “the church required people capable of living fully in the new atmosphere of liberty and progress, people whose intimate union with the Holy Spirit gave them intelligence, courage, full liberty and untiring energy.”36 The focus on “interior” life has already been discussed above in relation to Hecker’s belief that the Church was entering into a time of increased outpouring of the Holy Spirit. With the external office of the Spirit firmly established, ________________________________ 36 O’Brien, Isaac Hecker, 272. [ Page ] 220 the Church was now free to explore in more detail the internal office of the Spirit in the life o human persons.37 Hecker held out hope that this increased attention to the interior life of the Church and the life of the Spirit might even heal the wounds of the sixteenth century.38 With the faculties of her members elevated by the Spirit’s increased action, Hecker thought the Church might embark upon a renewed period of intellectual development, presenting an exposition of Catholicism that appealed to the rational gifts of the Saxon and mixed Saxon races, and counteracting their prejudiced view of Catholicism as merely a religion of authority. Hecker had in mind a new scholasticism, “profiting at the same time by the knowledge, discoveries, and experience since acquired,” and argued that the resulting presentation of Catholicism “would find unbidden entrance into the hearts of men,” again suggesting that “the religious revolution of the sixteenth century would be reversed.”39 Though some detractors thought that Hecker’s agenda included a watering down of Catholic doctrine in order to make it more palatable to non-Catholics,40 Hecker believed that the Catholic Church’s future triumph would be found in “the avenging power of Catholic truth,” and believed he was living in a time “when intelligent minds see that the Catholic Church is what she claims to be - Catholic. She holds and teaches the whole body of divine truth.” This meant, as he told the Plenary Council of Baltimore in 1866, Protestants would see that “Protestantism, in its origin, was a revolt against _____________________________________ 37 Hecker The Church and the Age 36. 38 “...if it were shown unmistakably that all her externals, when not abused or exaggerated, are strictly subservient to the securing of her essential end — union of the soul with God — there are better and stronger reasons to hope for a tide to set in towards her fold in the nineteenth century than there was to leave it in the sixteenth.” Ibid., 206. 39 Ibid., 190. See also his comments regarding the error of regarding Catholicism as a religion of authority, since its true essence is “the elevation of rational creatures, by the power of the Holy Spirit, to a union with God above that which they enjoy by their birth.” Ibid., 197-198. 40 As denounced by Leo XIII in his Apostolical Letter Testem Benevolentiae, issued at the climax of the Americanism crisis in 1899, to be discussed in the following chapter. See Leo XIII, The Great Encyclial Letters of Pope Leo XIII (New York: Benziger Brothers, 1903), 441-442. The letter does not directly accuse Hecker of this tendency toward accommodation of doctrine, but identifies the controversy with the French translation of his biography, and therefore criticizes ideas that were (wrongly) associated with his life and work. [ Page ] 221 divine authority under the pretext of obedience to Christ.”41 The increased emphasis on the “active” life of the Church is foreseen by Hecker as a transition out of the age of emphasis on external authority, in which passive obedience was necessarily a chief characteristic of Catholic life. “Is it a matter of surprise,” he writes, “that the character of the virtues developed was more passive than active? The weight of authority was placed on the side of restraining rather than that of developing personal independent action.”42 But now, “having completed her defence from all danger on that side, she is returning to her normal course, with increased agencies, thanks to that contest, and is entering upon a new and fresh phase of life, and upon a more vigorous action in every sphere of her existence.”43 This emphasis on increased action and initiative in the Church as being in accord with the nature of a true Catholic was part of the reason Hecker felt he could be optimistic about the conversion of America. He saw congruence between his understanding of the ideal American as a free and intelligent person, acting on their own initiative, and the ideal Catholic, acting in accord with the immediate guidance of the Spirit.44 Hecker believed that the many pilgrimages, novenas, and associations of prayer that he saw in his own day were evidence of an increasingly Spirit-filled and active laity. Along with the persecutions of Catholic Church by European governments, these were “preparatory steps to a Pentecostal effusion of the Holy Spirit on the Church, an effusion, if not equal in intensity to that of apostolic days, at least greater than it in universality.”45 Thus, although he believed the Spirit to be working providentially in every age, Hecker thought that an intensification of the Spirit’s work was about to take place in his ____________________________________ 41 Isaac Thomas Hecker, “The Future Triumph of the Church,” in Sermons Delivered During the Second Plenary Council of Baltimore, October, 1866 (Baltimore: Kelly & Piet, 1866), 78-81. 42 Hecker, The Church and the Age, 16. The emphasis on external authority had, in other words, produced the “temporary disadvantage of reducing the energy of the church.” O’Brien Isaac Hecker 271. 43 Hecker The Church and the Age 29. 44 Hostetter, The Ecclesial Dimension, 399. 45 Hecker, The Church and the Age, 30-31. [ Page ] 222 lifetime.46 In summary, then, Hecker believed that the renewed emphasis on the interior, intelligible, and active aspects of the Catholic faith would surely lead to the return of the Saxon and mixed Saxon races, and he saw evidence already among the English, and even greater evidence in America, that the “painful wound inflicted in the sixteenth century on Christianity will be soon, let us hope, closed up and healed, never again to be re-opened.”47 PAULISTS AS “MEN OF THE AGE” FOR THE RENEWAL OF THE CHURCH I have discussed Hecker’s ecclesiological assumptions in some detail, because they help us to understand his vision for the Paulists as “men of the age” for the renewal of the Church. A section in the handbook The Paulist Vocation entitled “The External Mission of the Paulist Community” provides an interesting insight into how Hecker’s vision for the Paulists coincided with his vision of worldwide renewal. First of all, the Paulists were conceived as an elite group of Spirit-led men, the vanguard, perhaps, of the new Pentecostal outpouring that Hecker believed to be imminent. Therefore he began his discussion of Paulist mission by claiming, The Holy Spirit is preparing the Church for an increased infusion of Himself in the hearts of the faithful. This increased action of the Holy Spirit will renew the face of the whole earth, in religion and in society. Souls will be inspired by Him to assist in bringing about this end. The question is, How shall such souls co-operate with Him in preparation for this extraordinary outpouring of divine grace? The law of all extensive and effectual work is that of association.48 The association he had in mind would be wrought by the Spirit, with the goal of establishing “a means of co-operation with the Church in the conquest of the whole world to Christ, the renewal ________________________________________ 46 Leo XIII’s censure of the idea that the Spirit “pours greater gifts into the hearts of the faithful now than in times past” thus has clear connection to Hecker’s own thought, although the idea was censured as a presupposition for rejecting the external authority of the Church, which Hecker clearly affirmed. Testem Benevolentiae, in Great Encyclical Letters 445-446. 47 Hecker, The Church and the Age, 54. On England and America (presumably in reference to the Oxford Movement), see Ibid., 55-56. 48 The Paulist Vocation, 145. [ Page ] 223 of the apostolic spirit and life.”49 This vision of a special “association” aligns well with the approach I have been advocating as the outworking of the theology of ecclesial charisms - a specialized vocational movement that works within the Church, and does not see itself as a church in its own right. Accordingly, Hecker was keen to stress that the religious communities must remain focused on their particular vocation, describing it as “a fatal mistake when religious attempt to do the work of the Church.”50 Though they were to be obedient and surrendered to the Church’s authority, first place was not to be given to adherence to a rule, but rather “reliance should be had upon the bond of charity in the Holy Spirit, and his inspirations.”51 The lack of vows in the Paulist community, discussed in the previous chapter as the “voluntary principle,” could be seen as indicative of Hecker’s vision of the coming triumphant church, in which external authority need not be overtly emphasized, because people so united and led by the Spirit would not require coercion.52 As Spirit-filled men, the Paulists were also apologists, attempting to provide the kind of rational, intelligible defense of Catholicism that Hecker believed necessary in order to remove Protestant prejudice. Therefore he emphasized that the association needed would be made up of those “who have that universal synthesis of truth which will solve the problems, eliminate the antagonisms, and meet the great needs of the age.”53 Moreover, the seeming “antagonisms” of the age would be overcome by this great synthesis, as “a movement springing from the synthesis of the most exalted faith with all the good and true in the elements now placed in antagonism to __________________________________ 49 Ibid. 50 Ibid 149 51 Ibid. 147. 52 Hence Hecker claimed that Paulists were religious “of their age,” though they were not religious “of the past,” meaning that Paulists could not be said to be in a “religious state” according to the traditional Catholic definition, because of their lack of vows. Ibid. 123-124. 53 Ibid., 147. [ Page ] 224 the Church.”54 Specifically in relation to the Paulists, this meant synthesizing Catholic faith with aspects of American culture which could be said to be “compatible with faith and piety.”55 The Paulists were therefore to be the kind of active Catholics that Hecker believed would counterbalance the previous emphasis on passive submission to discipline - priests who took initiative and acted freely, though in concert, because they were united by the bond of the Spirit. The active character of the community was also seen in Hecker’s emphasis on the Paulists’ “apostolic vocation,” by which Hecker meant doing “apostolic works, Catholic, universal,” rather than “works which confine his life’s energies to a locality” - a life of “calling the attention of mankind to the great truths of Divine Revelation.”56 In all of these ways, Hecker believed the Paulists to be just the kind of association of priests that divine Providence required for his own time and place: a community of persons enlivened by the Spirit to a deeper interior life, yet intelligibly defending the faith and boldly acting as agents of apostolic mission in the world. For Hecker, any legitimate religious community was “an evidence and expression of an uncommon or special grace given to a certain number of souls,” and was given “to meet the special needs of their epoch, and in this way to renew the spiritual life of the members of the Church and to extend her fold.” A religious community such as the Paulists had “no reason for its existence” if it was not for this reason.57 A _____________________________________ 54 Ibid. 55 Ibid., 149. On the same principle, Hecker and the other Paulists felt that they were free to adopt “revivalist” techniques which were in use by Protestant revivalists, so long as they were not inimical to the Catholic faith. See Hostetter, The Ecclesial Dimension, 400. Another interesting example of Hecker’s blending of Catholic faith with American culture can be seen in the art and architecture of the Church of St. Paul the Apostle in New York City, which embodied many ideas that Hecker had picked up from visiting great churches in Europe, but was decorated using leading American artists and sculptors such as William Laurel Harris and John La Farge. See Joseph I Malloy, The Church of St. Paul the Apostle (New York: Paulist Press, 1952); and chapter 6 of McVann, The Paulists. 196-224. 56 The Paulist Vocation, 150-151. Elsewhere Hecker contended that the “principal characteristic” of the Paulists should be “zeal for apostolic works.” Ibid., 125. 57 He further commented: “A new Religious Community, unless its activity is directed chiefly to supplying the special needs of its time, wears itself out at the expense of its true mission, and will decline and fall.” The Paulist Vocation, 148. [ Page ] 225 Paulist, then, was defined by Hecker as “a distinct species of a religious man,” who “is alive to the pressing needs of the Church at the present time, and feels called to labor especially with the means fitted to supply them.” 58 Hecker’s perspective, in fact, develops into something akin to a theology of ecclesial charisms. In his writings we find an affirmation of particular gifts of grace, leading to certain vocations, and indeed connected to the various religious families in his own Catholic ecclesial location.59 Moreover, when a group of persons find that they have been given the same “instinct of the Holy Spirit, the genius of grace,” he suggests that they will be moved to “form an associative effort in the special work to be done,” according to the needs of the time. 60 Keeping in mind Hecker’s comments above regarding how religious communities must keep their particular vocation in view at all times, and not seek to do the work of the Church as a whole, it becomes clear that Hecker’s overall understanding of how the Paulists were formed and how they related to the Church is mostly consistent with the theology of ecclesial charisms that I am espousing. The key problem in Hecker’s ecclesiology as it relates to ecclesial charisms was discussed earlier in relation to his understanding of the Church’s authority. It is at this point that my proposal would make a significant difference for the Paulists’ self-understanding. Even further, for the Paulist charism to be truly appreciated and received in such a way that the movement might have acted as a means of grace for the evangelization of America, the ________________________________ 58 Ibid. 59 An early reflection from his diary, April 19, 1845, written as he was considering a call to the priesthood and the religious life, reflects this idea: “God gives grace according to the destiny to be realized. There is the order of the Priesthood - the order of the Jesuits - and other orders in this country tho not numerous to which I might united. O Lord choose Thou and with the help of Thy grace I will follow Thy voice.” A week later he wrote: “It is a law of divine Providence...that he gives his grace to fulfill the duties of the station to whomsoever he calls to the office” (irregular spelling and punctuation in original). Isaac T. Hecker, The Diary: Romantic Religion in Ante-Bellum America. ed by John Farina (New York: Paulist Press 1988) 312. 60 From a diary entry dated June 2, 1875, in The Paulist Vocation, 95. [ Page ] 226 ecclesiastical hierarchy of their day would also have needed to change their assumptions about the importance of the plurality of charisms and the dependence of the charism of oversight on the charisms of the whole community. As I argued in chapter III.2, the decision of the bishops to require the Paulists to take on a parish was a misapprehension, or at least an under-appreciation of the particular Paulist charism. Had the bishops recognized the value of a specialized vocational movement, focused on a particular charism, and allowed the Paulists to function as such without giving them pastoral duties, the movement would have had a much greater degree of freedom to serve as a means of grace for the charism of evangelism in America. Had Catholic ecclesiology envisioned the charism of oversight as one charism among others, which must be exercised communally and collegially, the outcome of their particular decisions regarding the Paulists might also have been different.61 THE SALVATION ARMY: A NON-SECTARIAN VISION OF THE CHURCH William Booth was not a theologian, and in fact was part of a school of thought in 19th century revivalism that eschewed theological controversy in an effort to be non-sectarian.62 In searching his writings, and other literature of the early Salvation Army, one will not find anything approaching a detailed ecclesiological statement. In fact, the movement’s eleven articles of faith do not address the Church in any way, and therefore the Handbook of Doctrine which Booth wrote also avoided ecclesiological questions. That is not to say that Booth and his ___________________________________ 61 Here I have in mind Boff’s comments, which were not specifically directed at 19th century Catholicism, but which describe, in general terms, a situation in which “[t]he hierarchy considers itself to be the only fundamental charism.. .The hierarchy is only one charismatic state in the Church, one that must not (as sometimes happens) step on the toes of other charisms that the Spirit raises in the community.” Boff, Church, Charism and Power, 157. For an historical overview of the focus on hierarchical authority in Catholic ecclesiology in the 19th century, see Yves Congar, “L’Écclésiologie de la rêvolution française au concile de vatican, sous le signe de l’affirmation de l’autorité,” in L’Ecclésiologie au XIX siècle, ed. Maurice Nédoncelle, Unam Sanctam 34 (Paris: Éditions du Cerf, 1960) 77-114. 62 See Carwardine’s discussion of the growing trend towards both “intradenominational” and “extradenominational” revival efforts (that is, independent evangelists like the Booths) in the 1850s, in Transatlantic Revivalism, 189-190. [ Page ] 227 followers had no convictions whatsoever about the Church, but that these often operated at the level of unspoken assumptions, rather than expressly articulated convictions. His views were informed primarily by his roots in the Wesleyan and Revivalist traditions. The Salvationists’ lack of explicit attention to these matters, however, meant that the movement’s early history was marked by profound ecclesiological ambiguities, which supported its evolution into a hybridized movement-church, and thereby hindered the exercise of the movement’s charism of evangelism among the neglected. While, on the one hand, Salvationists could be seen as a having a somewhat narrow view of who should be considered a “genuine” Christian, they were not sectarian or narrow-minded regarding the presence of true Christians in all Christian traditions. That is, they did not believe that they were the Church, but rather only a part of it, and claimed they were not interested in finding fault with the beliefs or practices of other Christians.63 In fact, their attitude towards matters of theological division bordered on dismissive at times, in that they appealed to the importance of an experience of salvation which transcended theological distinctives. “We believe God cares very little about our sectarian differences and divisions,” Catherine Booth wrote in 1883. “The great main thing is the love of God and the service of humanity; and when we find people actuated by this motive, we love them by whatever name they are called.”64 This attitude to ecclesial division is built upon John Wesley’s views regarding differences of “opinion” as opposed to apostasy on core matters of “doctrine,” and his admiration for genuine ___________________________________ 63 Catherine Booth claimed that this principle was stressed in the training of officers:“It is not your business to go and find fault with other people. Rejoice in all the good done, by whomsoever it is done. Be glad whenever you find a good man or woman at work for God, and for the salvation of people. Never try to find a hole in their coat, or pull them to pieces. Mind your own business, which is seeking and saving the lost.” Catherine Mumford Booth, The Salvation Army in Relation to the Church and State (London: The Salvation Army 1883) 28. 64 Ibid., 29. [ Page ] 228 Christianity across the ecclesial spectrum.65 However, this openness and relative comfort with different doctrinal formulations should not be confused with theological indifference, either in the case of Wesley or Booth. Booth, in particular, held forcefully to fundamental evangelical doctrines, perhaps even simplistically.66 Rather than a total doctrinal laxity, Booth, like Wesley before him, would affirm that, given common ground on core matters of soteriological importance, a diversity of views on controversial matters was inevitable and acceptable. Likewise, both would place emphasis on the reality of a transformed life as being of primary importance, rather than a correct understanding of Christian doctrine. Booth self-consciously saw his non-sectarian ideals as rooted in his Wesleyan commitments, even maintaining that they would stay true to this goal where Wesley had failed.67 This meant that Booth instructed his followers “to avoid as the very poison of hell all controverted questions,” and he hoped that Salvationists by their non-sectarian commitments could “spread far and wide a spirit of love and hearty co-operation” and “lessen the dividing walls of sectarianism.”68 These presuppositions also meant that Salvationists believed it was possible for those who shared in the living faith of the Church to cooperate on missionary endeavours, in spite of disagreements. This aspect of the Army’s ecclesiological outlook was inherited from the transatlantic revivalist movement, which also explicitly attempted to be non-sectarian. The influence of American revivalists Phoebe Palmer and James Caughey, along with Charles ___________________________________ 65 Perhaps the best known articulation of this attitude is found in Wesley’s Sermon 39,“Catholic Spirit,” and its characteristic use of 2 Kings 10:15: “Is thine heart right, as my heart is with thy heart?...If it be, give me thy hand.” Lest the phrase be misinterpreted, however, it should be noted that in §§I.12-18 Wesley outlines a fairly robust set of criteria for such a “right heart,” including both fundamental doctrinal assertions and a vital life of piety. See Outler, Works, 2:81-95. 66 Horridge’s comment is that “the Bible and therefore religion was inviolable and that it was approachable direct and not only through an organized Church or Chapel service.. .William Booth’s thoughts were thus based in simplistic but forceful Protestant declarations.” Horridge, The Salvation Army, 23. Cf. Sandall, History of The Salvation Army I: 79. 67 “Warned by the failure of John Wesley in maintaining his unsectarian position, we are striving to avoid what we think were his mistakes.” Booth “What is The Salvation Army? ” 181. 68 Ibid., 181-182. [ Page ] 229 Grandison Finney, was of central importance in this regard.69 The mid nineteenth century was a time of growing pan-protestant ecumenical consciousness, seen in the emergence of the Evangelical Alliance in 1846, a movement which was influenced in part by the growing importance of various kinds of lay volunteer movements which crossed denominational boundaries.70 Protestant evangelicals believed that they had enough common ground among them that they could work together in evangelistic campaigns, and in efforts at poor relief and “home missions.”71 Such mission agencies were not understood to be churches, but rather were non-sectarian, extra-denominational agencies that understood themselves to be furthering the Church’s mission. However, it should be noted that such cooperation was predicated on very different ecclesiological grounds from those of the twentieth century ecumenical movement, in that it explicitly proposed unity as a “spiritual” and therefore “invisible” reality which transcended and was congruent with institutional separation.72 From this perspective, the institutional life of the Church was relativized and downgraded in significance in relation to its true “spiritual” nature. The Salvation Army began in the midst of this context with an initial plan to act as one of these non-sectarian and revivalistic home mission movements. Booth has not left us with anything approaching a “definition” of the universal church. We can conjecture, however, from various statements, that he believed it to be composed of all those who had been justified by faith, and who bore witness to their salvation in both word and ______________________________________ 69 Hill, Leadership in the Salvation Army, 42-43; Murdoch, Origins of The Salvation Army, 45. 70 See Ruth Rouse, “Voluntary Movements and the Changing Ecumenical Climate,” in A History of the Ecumenical Movement 1517-1948 ed by R Rouse and S C Neill (Philadelphia: Westminster 1954) 309-333 71Horridge The Salvation Army 9-11. 72 See, for example, the views expressed in Philip Schaff and Samuel Ireneaus Prime, eds., History, Essays, Orations, and Other Documents of the Sixth General Conference of the Evangelical Alliance, Held in New York, October 2-12, 1873 (New York: Harper Brothers, 1874), especially Charles Hodge, “The Unity of the Church Based on Personal Unity with Christ” (139-144), R. Payne Smith, “Christian Union Consistent with Denominational Distinctions” (145-149), and Gregory T. Bedell, “Spiritual Unity not Organic Unity” (150-153). [ Page ] 230 deed, whatever their denominational affiliation.73 Booth’s lack of concern regarding institutional separation should be seen in the context of common evangelical Protestant convictions about invisible unity. What mattered was evangelization, because once a person was saved, they were included in the one spiritual Church of Christ. THE CHURCH AS AGENT OF UNIVERSAL REDEMPTION Booth’s view of the Church was further grounded in the human agent’s participation in God’s redemptive work. Christian believers were understood by Booth to be God’s agents of redemption, working on his behalf and participating in the divine plan to establish the kingdom of God.74 This high view of human agency in mission was rooted, in part, in the Booth’s postmillennial eschatological vision. According to postmillennial eschatology, the “millennial kingdom” (the “thousand years” mentioned in Revelation 20) will be realized when the Church has subdued the world under the sway of the gospel. In other words, the “millennium” will come to fruition without the cataclysmic intervention of the parousia.75 Both William and Catherine Booth were strong postmillennialists, and believed that the worldwide triumph of the gospel could be achieved through the means currently at the disposal of the Church.76 It was the sincere conviction of many Salvationists, along with other prominent 19th century evangelicals, that the _________________________________ 73 This two-fold summary of Booth’s criteria for membership in the Church (justification by faith and witness in word and deed) is Roger Green’s reconstruction of Booth’s position, inferred from Booth’s own statements. Green, War on Two Fronts, 31-32. 74 Roger Green suggests that “the one true sign of the Church” for Booth was “participation in the work of redemption, both personal redemption and, after 1889, social redemption, leading ultimately to the establishment of the kingdom of God.” Ibid. 56. 75 It should also be noted that postmillennialists and premillennialists have radically different understandings of what this “millennial kingdom” would look like. The postmillennial “millennium” is basically envisioned as a golden age of the Church, in which the gospel holds general sway over the world, but not necessarily over every single person and situation. The premillennial “millennium” is more otherworldly, and envisions Christ himself reigning directly on earth. See Donald Bloesch, Essentials of Evangelical Theology (Peabody MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 2006), II: 189-194. 76 For a survey of early Salvationist postmillennialism, see Philip W. Davisson, “Sweeping Through the Land: Postmillennialism and the Early Salvation Army,” Word and Deed: A Journal of Salvation Army Theology and Ministry 5, no. 2 (May 2003): 29-50. [ Page ] 231 millennium was almost upon them, and that they were living in a time when the Church needed to make a final push in order to establish Christ’s sway over the world. The idea of creating an “army” of “soldiers” reflected the Booth’s sense of urgency concerning the pending millennial kingdom, and his conviction that the whole church was to be actively involved in mission. By casting membership as “soldiership” he was able to emphasize that every person was to be engaged in the “war.” Booth saw this as something which set his Army apart from other ecclesial bodies. ...there is a fundamental principle that has to do with the very existence and working of The Army, in which it widely differs from most, if not all, of the Christian organisations round about us, and this is that the fighting is done by the soldiers, the officers leading, guiding, encouraging, and showing the way. With other organisations the very opposite is the rule with them; it is a principle that the fighting shall be done by the officers. They are set apart, ordained, and maintained, and looked upon to maintain the fight...with us we publicly and most emphatically avow that the whole corps ought to do the fighting.77 This stress on human participation in the work of redemption was combined with an evangelical pragmatism concerning methods, structures, and practices. Booth had a low view of tradition, and a Biblicist understanding of what could be considered binding upon the Church, while also stressing the Spirit’s role in revealing how the Church ought to respond to the needs of its own context. Therefore, since “new methods” were “allowable,” and since such methods could aid in the spread of the gospel, the invention of such new methods was “very desirable... supposing that such are in accordance with the great doctrines and principles taught in the Bible.”78 What was needed for the evangelisation of those beyond the reach of the established churches, then, was “novelty.” Booth was not averse to admitting that his mission was competing with various forms of entertainment available to the people he was trying to reach, and believed that in order to __________________________________ 77 William Booth, “The General’s New Year Address to Officers,” in Boundless Salvation: The Shorter Writings of William Booth (New York: Peter Lang, 2012), 193. 78 Ibid., 190. [ Page ] 232 attract people to the gospel his evangelists needed to do something different and exciting.79 He encouraged his officers to note “how the caterers for public amusements, and for trade, and for politics are now doing something fresh and new to attract attention. Why not?”80 Evangelists had long been proclaiming the gospel, Booth believed, so that people had “grown familiar with it,” and therefore they “gave it little or no consideration at all.”81 Therefore Booth believed that the adaptation of measures was a necessary and important aspect of evangelization, and this belief in the adaptation of measures was used to support the methods of The Salvation Army.82 Thus Booth could summarize his commitment to The Salvation Army as an institution as subordinate function to his commitment to the gospel, and subordinate to his charism as an evangelist: ...I am here because I believe this organisation is the best adapted to gain the end that Jesus Christ had in view when He died upon the Cross, which He still contemplates, ceaselessly desires, and continuously seeks by his Holy Spirit to accomplish. If anyone could show me a better plan than the one we have in hand of attaining this end, I would gladly fall in with it tomorrow.83 Booth’s revivalist pragmatism, his postmillennial sense of missionary urgency and his “unsectarian” view of the Church all played a part in the ecclesiology of the early Salvation Army. Considering these influences together, one can see how the charism of evangelism among the neglected, from Booth’s perspective, would have no bearing on the particular institutional form which the movement might take. Again, this is supported by common evangelical convictions about the relative unimportance of the Church’s institutional life in ____________________________________ 79 As Horridge summarizes, “General Booth was playing on the novelty of his organisation. It attracted people because it was identifiably different from any other form of religion. It was also somewhere to go and something to do, a relief in the often drab monotony of life whether in the industrial, mining, or agricultural communities.” Horridge, The Salvation Army, 49. 80 Booth, “The General’s New Year Address to Officers,” 196. This was not merely a matter of rhetoric. Early Salvationist meetings are characterized by Horridge as “a combination of religion and entertainment.” Horridge, The Salvation Army 90 81 Booth “The General’s New Year Address to Officers ” 194. 82 This idea of “adaptation of measures” has it source in Finney. See Lectures on Revivals of Religion (New York: Leavitt Lord & Co. 1835) especially Lecture XIV “Measures to Promote Revivals ” pp. 232-255. 83 Booth, “The General’s New Year Address to Officers,” 187. [ Page ] 233 relation to the true, invisible church. Not only are particular forms of organization merely functional in relation to the goal of evangelization, but institutional separation is irrelevant to the Church’s true unity, and therefore of no concern with regards to cooperation among ecclesial bodies in common pursuit of the Church’s mission. SALVATIONIST SELF-UNDERSTSANDING AND ECCLESIAL STATUS I have already noted Booth’s stated determination that The Salvation Army should not become “a sect,” and his claim that his original intention was to send his converts to the established churches, an intention which proved impracticable soon after the movement began. Booth wanted his organization to remain free from what he believed to be the trappings of a church, and therefore he insisted that it was a missionary movement, and was something quite distinct from the churches of his day. Of course, in many ways, this was not a novel idea, since various voluntary societies had existed alongside the churches in England, stretching back to the early eighteenth century. However, the members of these societies were normally also members of a church, otherwise the society would be seen as a denomination in its own right. Booth wanted to occupy another space on the ecclesial landscape, as an autonomous mission which was not dependent upon any church, and whose members were not members of any church.84 He apparently did not see this as an ambiguous position, claiming that his movement was “a continuation of the work of Mr. Wesley,” though he noted that they had gone on “a great deal further, on the same lines which he travelled.”85 _______________________________________ 84 As Hill notes, there were exceptions to this in some European countries, such as Sweden, where membership in the State church was required. Hill, Leadership in the Salvation Army, 38. See also Tom Aitken’s fascinating discussion of early Salvationism in Russia, where not only was membership in the Orthodox church tolerated, but also some Orthodox practices, such as the use of icons and the sign of the cross. Tom Aitken, Blood and Fire, Tsar and Commissar: The Salvation Army in Russia, 1907-1923 (Milton Keynes, UK: Paternoster, 2007). 188-191. 85 Booth, “Wesleyan Methodist Conference,” 173. The Salvation Army’s position, at least in terms of how it related to other churches, was indeed “a great deal further” than Wesley’s, though it could be said that some of the Army’s ecclesiological ambiguities were inherited from Methodism. Earl Robinson, a Salvation Army officer, claimed as [ Page ] 234 As we have already noted, Booth claimed that the original intention of his mission was simply to convert people and send them to the churches, but the people would not go, nor were they welcome.86 This narrative of rejection by the established churches is taken from the earliest days of the movement’s history, such that from its very infancy, it started to become clear that the Mission’s converts would be making their spiritual home in the Mission itself, and not in one of the established churches. On this basis, Harold Hill has argued that “the point at which the Mission became the de facto community of faith for its adherents probably came earlier rather than later, probably 1867,” and that by 1878 it had become a full fledged denomination, in spite of Booth’s continuing “unsectarian” claims.87 Still, in 1878 as he wrote his Orders and Regulations Booth would claim, “We are not and will not be made a Church. There are plenty for anyone who wishes to join them, to vote and rest.”88 He supported this claim by arguing to the Wesleyan Methodist Conference in 1880 that they were wholly focused on reaching those who had no religious affiliation, would not engage in “sheep-stealing.”89 In fact, Horridge’s research indicates that, among the officer-ranks at least, most had some previous religious affiliation, and that there was a particularly high number who came from a Wesleyan background.90 Although, as Horridge notes, this “does not mean that he ____________________________________________________________________________________________________ much: “Our lack of precision in responding to this question may be considered to some extent to be part of our Wesleyan heritage.” Earl Robinson, “The Salvation Army—Ecclesia?,” Word and Deed: A Journal of Salvation Army Theology and Ministry 2, no. 1 (November 1999): 10. Cf. Hill, Leadership in the Salvation Army, 40. On the ambiguity of Methodist ecclesiology, see Albert Outler’s classic essay, “Do Methodists Have a Doctrine of the Church?” 86 Booth “How We Began” 24 87 Hill, Leadership in the Salvation Army, 44-46. 88 Booth, Orders and Regulations, 4. 89 “We do not fish in other people’s waters. We are not chargeable with that...No, we get our converts out of the gutters we fish them out of the slush and slime.” Booth “Wesleyan Methodist Conference ” 176. 90 Based on Horridge’s statistical research, it would seem that “many Methodists favoured William Booth’s approach to religion either in preference to their own or as a distinct reminder of something they had once known.” He notes that “although Booth stated that the Army “openly avows its objection to accept as members any who belong to any of the churches, preferring the uncared for,” many Wesleyans, Primitives, and other Home Mission evangelists joined the Army. Another equally important reason was that the Army provided opportunities for [ Page ] 235 had completely failed in his policy to reach the unsaved,”91 it does undermine Booth’s claim that the Army was not taking its members from other churches. Booth seemed to believe that the fact that his soldiers and officers did not attend any church was, in itself, a “non-sectarian” trait, because it meant they could “promote general godliness and harmony” and “avoid as the very poison of hell all controverted questions.” 92 Taking another line of reasoning, George Scott Railton offered the argument that the Army was not a “sect” because it avoided many of the problematic traits that he believed that characterized established churches.93 So Booth and the other early Salvationists would insist that the Army was not a church, although from the earliest days they had begun to take on the tasks of a church, since they were the de facto spiritual home for their converts and their converts’ families. Booth was not unaware of the questions raised by his position, and in his 1883 “New Year Address to Officers” Booth engaged in some reflection on the matter. While he acknowledged that many people were “very much perplexed” and “quite anxious and agitated” about the relation of the Army to the churches, he said “I feel perfectly quiet myself.”94 He noted that he had been at a meeting of church leaders recently and that a clergyman had said the Army was evidently not a church, because “to be a church there must be the exercise of the sacramental functions, which evidently are not duly appreciated, anyway which are not generally ______________________________________________________________________________________________ Methodists who disliked the increasingly common feeling to be found to varying degrees in many of the chapels, of being at home in the world.” Horridge, The Salvation Army, 86. 91 Ibid. 91. 92 He went on to say that this allowed them to maintain “a most friendly footing in relation to all the churches in many localities.” Booth, “What is The Salvation Army?,” 181. 93 “We refuse to settle down into places of worship such as might be agreeable to our people and their families, but insist upon the open-air stand and the place of amusement, where there may be little comfort, but where the most good may be done. We refuse to allow our officers to stay very long in any one place, lest they or the people should sink into the relationship of pastor and flock...We refuse utterly to allow of any authoritative assembly, committee, church meeting, or any other representative or popular gathering...We are not and will not be made a sect. We are an army of soldiers of Christ, organized as perfectly as we have been able to accomplish, seeking no church status, avoiding as we would the plague, every denominational rut, in order perpetually to reach more and more of those who lie outside every church boundary.” George Scott Railton, Heathen England, 3rd ed. (London: S. W. Patridge & Co., 1879), 144-145. 94 Booth, “The General’s New Year Address to Officers,” 190. [ Page ] 236 practised by The Army.” At this point Booth claims to have had a moment of epiphany: It seems as if a voice from heaven had said and is still saying, that we are to be an Army, separate from, going before, coming after, and all round about the various existing Churches. Whatever difficulties there may appear to you in this position, I am sure that if you will have the patience they will vanish. 95 He concludes by suggesting that the attitude of the churches towards the Army should be like their attitude towards the Fire Brigade: “You cheer them on, encourage them, subscribe to their funds, go to their assemblages and bless them.” We say, “Do the same with us.”” 96 Like the “fire brigade” or another body of “first responders,” the Salvationists saw themselves as leading the charge toward the establishment of the kingdom of God. This high estimation of their movement’s eschatological importance, wed with an expectant post-millennialism, led Catherine Booth to declare in 1880: “I believe that this movement is to inaugurate the great final conquest of the Lord Jesus Christ.”97 It may be that such millennial expectations furthered the Salvationist sense that the institutional structures of the Church were of little importance. So, by 1883, Booth saw his Army as “separate from, going before, coming after, and all round about” the established churches - something working alongside the churches, but quite different from the churches. He continued to muddy the waters, however, in that he periodically made statements claiming that the Army was in fact of the same status as the churches. For example, Eason and Green note that in 1888 Booth boasted that his movement had “six thousand two hundred and seventeen clergymen and clergywomen.”98 Bramwell Booth cites an 1894 statement by his father which goes much further: The Salvation Army is not inferior in spiritual character to any Christian organization in ______________________________ 95 Ibid., 191. 96 Ibid. 97 The occasion was the “invasion” of America by George Scott Railton and several “Hallelujah Lasses.” From “Invasion of U.S.,” The War Cry, 9 (February 21, 1880), 1, quoted in John R. Rhemick, A New People of God: A Study in Salvationism (Des Plaines, IL: The Salvation Army, 1993), 203. 98 Cited from a May 12 1888 War Cry article in Eason and Green, Boundless Salvation, 172. [ Page ] 237 existence. We are in no wise dependent on the Church...We are, I consider, equal every way and everywhere to any other Christian organization on the face of the earth (i) in spiritual authority, (ii) in spiritual intelligence, (iii) in spiritual functions. We hold ‘the keys’ as truly as any Church in existence.99 As Eason and Green comment, “This was not the language of a mission seeking to funnel converts into the larger church.”100 Taking Booth at his own word, then, in spite of the ambiguities, and attempting to give him a charitable reading, it would seem that he truly believed The Salvation Army was something separate from, and yet equal to the established churches, but was a part of the Church universal. This would make the Army, in his mind, a special kind of ecclesial body, perhaps akin to an evangelical order within the Church, as has been argued by Harold Hill.101 However, there was also a strain of Salvationist thought that seemed to claim that their movement was without precedent in Church history. As John Rhemick comments, although the Army acknowledged that it had been influenced by many past movements, its members also believed “that whatever the influences, something new had come into being under the inspiration of God himself.”102 He points to an 1893 article in The Officer magazine that claimed that the Salvation Army’s aim was “to create a new people for God out of the raw material around us.”103 The early Salvationist movement was pervaded by the notion that they had been providentially brought into being by God, and that they were a unique creation of the Spirit.104 _________________________________ 99 Booth, Echoes and Memories, 68. 100 Eason and Green, Boundless Salvation, 172. Some of these statements imply that Booth not only saw the Army as separate from “the churches” but even separate from “the Church” itself. However, in 1904 Booth made it clear that he believed the Army to be “part of the living Church of God - a great instrument of war in the world, engaged in deadly conflict with sin and fiends.” Cited in Clarence D. Wiseman, “Are We a Church?,” in The Salvation Army and the Churches ed. John D. Waldron (New York: The Salvation Army 1986) 436. 101 Harold Hill, “Four Anchors from the Stern,” The Practical Theologian 5, no. 1 (2007): 26-41. 102 Rhemick A New People of God 215. 103 From an anonymous article, “Three Words To Officers,” The Officer, I, 2 (February 1893), 41, cited in Ibid. See also the quote he provides from some “Field Secretary’s Notes,” preserved in ex-officer Wyndham Heathcote’s book My Salvation Army Experience (1892) Ibid. 214. 104 A succinct statement among the many that could be produced in support of this idea comes from Railton: “The Army has been a great success, of course, simply because God has made it and sustained it.” Railton, Heathen [ Page ] 238 In spite of the ecclesiological ambiguities and the peculiar way in which The Salvation Army related to the established churches, it would certainly fit my category of “specialized vocational movement,” as discussed above. That is, the Salvationists understood themselves to be a movement that was raised up by God for a particular purpose - and given a special vocation to evangelize the neglected. And this special vocation implies a charism of evangelism to the neglected. However, Salvationists had an excessive self-estimation regarding their place in Church history. This is evidence of a kind of triumphalism, which would have it difficult for them to accept any formal institutional oversight. At the same time, this triumphalistic tendency was surely exacerbated by their autonomy and lack of oversight. Thus, their understanding of the Spirit’s gifting of their movement is quite distant from the “provisional” character of ecclesial charisms, as I have outlined it, and would make it difficult for them to see the sacrificial implications of their charism with regards to their relations with other Christian bodies. NEGOTIATIONS WITH THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND AND CESSATION OF SACRAMENTAL OBSERVANCE These ecclesiological challenges became particularly evident in 1882 when talks were opened with the Church of England regarding the possibility of bringing the Army under the Church’s auspices. Similar conversations had taken place with both Methodists and Congregationalists, but little is known about those discussions, and they do not seem to have been as serious as those which took place with the Church of England.105 The talks were initiated on the Anglican side by a motion in the Lower House of Convocation at Canterbury on May 9, 1882. This was taken up by the bishops, and eventually a special committee of leading _____________________________________________________________________________________________________ England, 134. For more on this point see the collection of primary source material assembled in Rhemick, A New People of God, 206-211. 105 Norman Murdoch, “The Salvation Army and the Church of England, 1882-1883,” Historical Magazine of the Protestant Episcopal Church 55 (1986): 33. [ Page ] 239 churchmen was established to examine the Salvation Army’s teachings and practices, and to consider options for cooperation.106 The committee included future Archbishops of Canterbury Edward Benson, then Bishop of Truro, and Randall Davidson, who was chaplain to the Archbishop of Canterbury at that time, Archibald Tait. Also on the committee were noted scholars J. B. Lightfoot, Bishop of Durham, and B. F. Westcott, who was at Cambridge and would later become Lightfoot’s successor in Durham. The fifth and final member was Canon George Wilkinson, who had made the initial request for the discussion in the Lower House.107 This interest from the Church came at a time when many Anglicans feared a significant loss of influence in British society, due to threats from both non-conformist and Catholic movements at the time.108 Not only that, but the early 1880s were the zenith of Salvation Army growth and advancement, such that, as Stuart Mews writes, the Army “gave an impression of fabulous success.”109 Some high profile examples of Anglican-Salvationist cooperation had taken place in Nottingham, Newcastle-upon-Tyne, London, and Coventry throughout 1881 and 1882.110 Perhaps most significantly, William Thomson, Archbishop of York, gave permission for 400 Salvationists to be admitted to Communion at St. Paul’s, York in early 1882, sparking protests from some quarters due to the “indiscriminate admission of unconfirmed men and women” to the Table.111 In spite of such protests, there was, for a time considerable support for __________________________________ 106 The motion originated with Canon George Wilkinson in the Lower House on May 9, and the bishops discussed it on May 12, 1882. Mews, “The General and the Bishops,” 217; Murdoch, “The Salvation Army and the Church,” 38-39. 107 Booth, Echoes and Memories, 60; Mews, “The General and the Bishops,” 221; Murdoch, “The Salvation Army and the Church ” 40. 108 Mews “The General and the Bishops ” 210-211; Murdoch “The Salvation Army and the Church ” 34-36. 109 Mews, “The General and the Bishops,” 213. Murdoch describes 1882 as “perhaps the most exciting in the entire history of the Salvation Army.” Murdoch, “The Salvation Army and the Church,” 38. 110 See the summary of these events in Mews, “The General and the Bishops,” 215. Mews suspects, based on the report coming out of Coventry in particular, “that the clergy concerned were thoroughly soaked in Brighton and Keswick convention holiness teaching.” 111 Murdoch, “The Salvation Army and the Church,” 37; Mews, “The General and the Bishops,” 215. Mews notes that Thomson was a low-church evangelical, and was, in part, using this alliance with the Salvationists to strike a blow against ritualists in the Church. [ Page ] 240 the Army in Anglican circles, particularly among the Bishops. Thomson had written to Booth in April, 1882, inquiring “how far it was possible for the Church to recognize the work of the Salvation Army as helping forward the cause of Christ consistently with our discipline,” and praising them for their ability to “reach cases, and to do so effectually, which we have great difficulty in touching.”112 A letter to the Guardian from an Anglican clergyman even urged cooperation on the grounds that an “opportunity of undoing the evils which the expulsion of Wesley produced is not often offered to the Church,” and commenting that, for the Church, it would “vindicate her character as the Church of the nation,” while allowing the Army to “concentrate all its energies on the single work of evangelising, without being distracted by the effort to provide permanent teaching.”113 Benson and Davidson took charge of the negotiations, though the others all met with Booth and participated to some degree.114 Benson held a long interview with Booth on June 9, 1882, during which Booth insisted that the Army’s distinctive feature was its discipline, that it was not competing with the Church on the issue of sacraments, and that they would turn back any clergy who wished to join their ranks.115 Benson further claimed that Bramwell had told him __________________________________ 112 Thomson to Booth, April 18, 1882, cited in Begbie, Life of William Booth, II: 9. Mews notes that even Archbishop Tait had risen in the House of Lords to speak in defense of the Army, claiming that its leaders were “persons of irreproachable character, and desirous of checking the extravagance of their followers.” Mews, “The General and the Bishops ” 219 113 Letter to the editor by A.H.B., The Guardian (March 29, 1882), 457. Cf. Mews, “The General and the Bishops,” 216. Benson had also made a comparison between Wesley and Booth in his personal diary, noting that he believed it had been the laity, not the clergy, who had excluded Wesley, and that he was sure that “the Bishops are in earnest.”Cited in Ibid., 218. 114 For a summary of each person’s contribution and views on the Army, see Murdoch, “The Salvation Army and the Church,” 44-45. After meeting Booth, Westcott wrote to his eldest son on June 10, 1882: “What he said and looked was of the deepest interest. Much he had evidently not thought out. I tried to make it clear that an army cannot be the final form of a kingdom: that conquest and the consolidation of the State must go on together.” Arthur Westcott, Life and Letters of Brooke Foss Westcott (London: Macmillan and Co., 1903), I: 348. For Bramwell Booth’s reflections on Westcott and Lightfoot, see Booth, Echoes and Memories, 61. Lightfoot, in a charge to his clergy given at this time, remarked, “Whatever may be its faults, it has at least recalled to us this lost ideal of the work of the Church - the universal compulsion of the souls of men.” J. B. Lightfoot, Primary Charge: Two Addresses Delivered to the Clergy of the Diocese of Durham in December, 1882 (London: Macmillan and Co. 1882) 31. 115 Mews, “The General and the Bishops,” 221-222. [ Page ] 241 that Salvationists were not barred from receiving communion, and that it was still celebrated by Salvationists in many places.116 In spite of Booth’s avowed Methodist roots, Harold Begbie reports that Booth told Benson and Davidson that “he felt himself nearer to the Church of England than to any other body in Christendom.”117 Benson and Davidson also visited a Cadets prayer meeting, led by Bramwell Booth, but they seem to have had varying reactions to what they saw, with Benson remaining convinced of the Spirit’s presence with the Army, and Davidson skeptically questioning the emotionalism of Salvationist worship.118 Things took a decisive turn, however, after William Booth capitalized on the good will of Anglicans by turning it into an opportunity to raise funds for the purchase of the notorious Eagle Tavern in London. Archbishop Tait had sent Booth a £5 donation in support of his purchase of the Eagle, and in an accompanying public letter had given some encouragement while also urging caution.119 Booth then published excerpts from the letter, making it appear as if the Archbishop was in full support of his campaign. This opened the floodgates of criticism from many quarters, beginning with leading evangelical Lord Shaftesbury, and the end result, to quote Stuart Mews, was that “Booth snared his Eagle but from that moment onwards, there were many Anglican vultures ready to swoop.”120 Even Benson began to waver in his support, in light of the flood of concern, and because he was receiving conflicting reports about the Army from those Church leaders he consulted.121 Having been tasked by the committee to draft their report, he wrote dejectedly to Westcott, “I am afraid the Salvation Army is working nothing here but confusion, and the Report seems a _____________________________________ 116 Ibid. 222. 117 This was recalled by Davidson decades later after the events in question. Begbie, Life of William Booth, II: 23. 118 Booth, Echoes and Memories, 68-69; Mews, “The General and the Bishops,” 222. According to Mews, part of the reason that Benson was supportive was his belief that “the Army was not antagonistic to the churches because he understood that their practice was to request their converts to return to their former places of worship.” Ibid. 216. 119 Mews, “The General and the Bishops,” 219-220. 120 Ibid. 220. 121 Ibid. 223. [ Page ] 242 hopeless task.”122 Benson was conveniently given a way out of his difficult situation, however, when he was selected to replace Tait as Archbishop of Canterbury. He never finished his report and by the time the Upper House convened in April 1883, enthusiasm for discussions with the Army had waned, and the Committee was discharged and thanked for their work.123 The investigations of the committee had found several issues that concerned them, the first of which was Booth’s autocracy. This was the first concern listed in Davidson’s August 1882 article in The Contemporary Review, written while the discussions were underway.124 Bramwell Booth, in his memoirs, saw Davidson as sincere and considerate, yet “fully determined ...not to allow the Founder to continue in what was called his ‘autocratic’ relationship.”125 There were also concerns about doctrine, sacramental ambiguities, women in leadership, emotionalism, and irreverence in worship.126 Some efforts at bridging the divide had been made by Wilkinson, who proposed having an annual Communion service for Salvationists at parish churches, and even suggested that women officers might be made deaconesses by the Church.127 However, Booth’s unwillingness to give ground on his autocracy, and the differences of opinion within the Church of England meant that the discussions never went beyond the level of exploratory conversation. In the following years Wilson Carlile’s “Church Army,” founded in 1882, was able to gain the approval of the Bishops and become an evangelistic agency of the Anglican Church, operating along very similar lines to The Salvation Army, though with a clear __________________________________ 122 Benson to Westcott, December 14, 1882, in Arthur C. Benson, The Life of Edward White Benson (London: Macmillan and Co. 1899) I: 543. 123 Mews, “The General and the Bishops,” 223. 124 “Few outsiders, probably, are aware how absolute is his rule. He is the sole trustee for all the buildings and property of the Army; he is empowered to nominate his successor in the trust; and he can by his mere fiat dismiss any officer in the service, or transplant him to another station or to new work. Perhaps the only parallel to be found in history for the position he occupies is that of the “General” of the Jesuits...Now this may work very well so long as Mr. Booth is alive and able for all his duties, but the experience of history does not lead us to anticipate that it will of necessity work equally well when he is gone.” Davidson “The Methods of The Salvation Army.” 192-193. 125 Booth Echoes and Memories 60. 126 Davidson, “The Methods of The Salvation Army,” 193-199; Murdoch, “The Salvation Army and the Church,” 46 127 Booth, Echoes and Memories, 62-63. [ Page ] 243 relationship to the Church.128 In hindsight, it is remarkable that these discussions ever took place, both from an Anglican perspective and a Salvationist perspective.129 Bramwell’s later recollection indicates that although they were not necessarily opposed to the curtailing of the General’s powers, the issue of authority was foremost in the minds of the Salvationist leadership. They believed Booth’s autocracy “was necessary for the effectiveness of our War,” and thus saw “the absence of authority” as a “grave weakness of the Church.” 130 So the failed negotiations only served to solidify the conviction of the leadership of The Salvation Army that they needed to remain autonomous, and independent of outside oversight. Booth had remained adamant in his discussions with the Church that he was founding an Army, not a church, and the fallout from the discussions was that Booth became even more convinced that his Army must remain autonomous and independent if it was to maintain its distinct identity. Of course, this assertion that the movement was “an Army” does not resolve the ecclesiological ambiguities that we have already raised. As Roger Green has noted, Booth’s “lack of an ecclesiology” created problems for him at this critical juncture.131 This historical moment also became the occasion of Booth’s resolving that his Army would no longer observe sacraments at all - a decision which only heightened the ecclesiological ambiguities that existed within the movement. It was as these talks with the Church of England were falling apart that Booth wrote his 1883 “New Years Address to Officers,” referenced above. _____________________________________ 128 Murdoch, “The Salvation Army and the Church,” 33; After some initial resistance, the Church Army received the official sanction of the Bishops in February 1885; see Edgar Rowan, Wilson Carlile and the Church Army (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1905), 199. Although it is beyond the scope of this project, a comparison between The Salvation Army and the Church Army would be very relevant to the issues I am considering. 129 Murdoch’s comment is that “the fact that William Booth contemplated merger suggests the extent to which he wanted his movement to be accepted by respectable Christianity. That other churches considered bringing the army into their fold indicates the degree to which they felt they needed a branch which would appeal to the “dangerous” populations of urban slums.” Murdoch “The Salvation Army and the Church ” 31. 130 Booth Echoes and Memories 69-70 131 Green, Life and Ministry of William Booth, 144. [ Page ] 244 He went on in that article to outline, for the first time, the Army’s non-practicing position with regard to the sacraments.132 He began by stating that the sacraments “cannot, rightly be regarded as conditions of salvation,” because that would “shut out from that holy place a multitude of men and women who have been and are today sincere followers of the Lord Jesus Christ.” 133 Booth had already come to this conclusion concerning the non-necessity of sacraments for salvation before stopping the observance of sacraments altogether in Salvation Army services.134 He then noted that the introduction of a standard practice of sacraments among Salvationists “would be likely to produce grave dissensions,” because of the “widespread difference of opinion with regard to the modes of administration.”135 He also reminded his officers that when Salvationists had participated in Communion at Church of England parishes, such participation had become the occasion for controversy concerning whether the communicants were confirmed or not. If this practice had continued, Booth warned that it “would have divided us at the very door of the Church.”136 He then summarized his position and came to a rather tentative conclusion: Now if the sacraments are not conditions of salvation; if there is a general division of opinion as to the proper mode of administering them, and if the introduction of them would create division of opinion and heart-burning, and if we are not professing to be a church, nor aiming at being one, but simply a force for aggressive salvation purposes, is it not wise for us to postpone any settlement of the question, to leave it over to some future ____________________________________ 132 As I have already noted, The Salvation Army had observed the sacraments prior to 1883, although such observance was sporadic and ad hoc. As recently as August 1882, Randall Davidson had noted “there seems still to be much uncertainty in the Army’s councils” concerning the sacraments, and suggested that this issue “must be dealt with soon, and firmly, if the Church is to extend active sympathy to the Army as a whole.” Davidson, “The Methods of The Salvation Army,” 199. For a complete historical account of the Salvation Army’s transition to a non- observant stance on the sacraments, see Andrew M. Eason, “The Salvation Army and the Sacraments in Victorian Britain: Retracing the Steps to Non-Observance,” Fides et historia 41, no. 2 (Summer-Fall 2009): 51-71. The most extensive theological treatment of this issue is found in R. David Rightmire, Sacraments and the Salvation Army: Pneumatological Foundations (Metuchen, N.J.: Scarecrow Press, 1990). 133 Booth, “The General’s New Year Address to Officers,” 191-192. Booth seems to be referencing the Society of Friends many of whom he regarded to be sincere Christian disciples. 134 Murdoch “The Salvation Army and the Church ” 31. 135 Booth, “The General’s New Year Address to Officers,” 192. 136 Ibid. [ Page ] 245 day, when we shall have more light, and see more clearly our way before us?137 Booth was quick to emphasize that, in light of this “postponement,” Salvationists were not prohibited from partaking of the sacraments if it was a matter of conscience.138 He then stressed that they should “remember His love every hour of our lives, and continually feed on Him - not on Sundays only,” and told them to be sure that they had received “the one baptism of the Bible - that is the baptism of the Holy Ghost.” 139 These last statements hint at a Quaker-like vision of spirituality that transcends all “form” and “ritual.”140 However, Booth closed his discussion of the sacraments by noting that he was soon planning to introduce a “formal service for the dedication of children,” so that parents could “introduce their children to The Army.” 141 Murdoch rightly comments, “While rejecting the church’s sacraments, the army was producing its own.”142 At this time, then, Booth’s decision was uncharacteristically hesitant, though his primary theological conviction (the non-necessity of sacraments for salvation) was obviously strong enough that he felt his soldiers could flourish as Christian believers without observing the sacraments. My purpose in reviewing these developments, however, is not to give a detailed _____________________________ 137 Ibid. 138 “Meanwhile, we do not prohibit our own people in any shape or form from taking the sacraments. We say, “If this is a matter of conscience, by all means break bread.” The churches and chapels all round about will welcome you for this, but in our own ranks let us be united, and go on our own way, and mind our own business.” Ibid. 139 Ibid., 192-193. The idea that true baptism was “baptism in the Spirit” became the standard line of argument against the necessity of water baptism in Salvation Army literature. 140 Contrary to what we might expect, however, Booth goes on later in this article to criticize Protestant spirituality in general, for over-reacting against Catholic worship. While he states that “the Roman Catholic Church went to the extreme, sadly too much so, of ceremony, form, and ritual,” he also claims that “the Protestant religion, it seems to us, rebounded off to the extreme of all this, going right off in the very opposite direction as far almost as it was possible to go.” Strangely then, Booth argues, mere paragraphs after stating that his movement would no longer observe the sacraments, that the Salvationists were aiming to find a middle ground between the two, in terms of the public “display” of religion:“The Catholic said, display your religion, publish it abroad, march with it in the streets, exhibit it to the world; but the Protestant, keep your religion out of sight, say as little as possible about it, tell it not in the ears of man, whisper it only to God. Now we are at issue with the coldest, barest, forms of Protestantism anyhow; while at the same time we want to keep free, and will keep free by the grace of God, from the superstitious errors both in doctrine and practice into which the Roman Catholics fell. We will draw the people, but draw them to hear, and worship, and love, and serve Him alone.” Ibid., 195. 141 Ibid., 193. 142 By June of 1883, a funeral service had been introduced. Murdoch, “The Salvation Army and the Church,” 44. [ Page ] 246 theological critique of The Salvation Army’s position on the sacraments. In the next chapter I will examine the developing Salvationist theology of the sacraments as a potential “false charism.” At this point I want to focus on the way in which the sacramental issue is connected to the larger issue of the movement’s ecclesiological status, and suggest how the theology of ecclesial charisms which I have been proposing would help to illuminate the issues at stake. The fundamental ambiguity in the early Salvation Army’s ecclesiology concerned its status as a church or a movement. As I have shown numerous times throughout this chapter, Booth was adamant in stressing that his Army was not a church. But even as he made this claim, he ensured that his movement would function as a church home for his members. Moreover, he wanted to claim that his Army was of equal status to the churches, and that his officers stood on equal footing with the clergy of the churches. Perhaps the root of the issue is Booth’s highly functionalized view of the Church in general. If he believed that his new Army was accomplishing the same purpose as the churches, then it was surely equal to them, and if the institutional forms were of no consequence so long as they met these ends, then why would his new body need to integrate with other institutions? In any case, his position was deeply ambiguous. As Eason and Green put it, “Was the Army a mission called to evangelize the poor or was it a church for the lower working classes?”143 Booth’s negotiations with the Church of England offered him an opportunity to clarify this ambiguity, but Booth chose neither option, remaining an independent movement in identity, but functioning like a new denominational church. The sacramental issue is a reflection of this ambiguous situation, because the Army’s non-observance of the sacraments was part of its attempt to avoid “churchly” status.144 The __________________________________ 143 Eason and Green, Boundless Salvation, 172. 144 Booth claimed in an 1895 interview: “We came to this position originally by determining not to be a Church. We did not wish to undertake the administration of the Sacraments, and thereby bring ourselves into collision with existing Churches.” Cited in Begbie, Life of William Booth, I: 432. [ Page ] 247 introduction of particular Salvation Army observances, such as baby dedications and funerals, is evidence that the movement could not avoid performing the tasks of a church for its members. From the perspective of the theology of ecclesial charisms that I have been proposing, The Salvation Army’s status ought to have been that of a specialized vocational movement, focused on the charism of evangelism for the neglected. Such a movement should not have attempted to function independently as a church, because it is intended to be focused on its role as a means of grace for its particular charism. Churches, on the other hand, ought to be characterized by a plurality of charisms, rather than a particular charism. In order for a specialized movement to truly flourish as a means for the cultivation of its particular charism, it ought not to function as a church, therefore, but should rather have a clearly established institutional link with an established church, so that its members can receive the Christian nurture they need in the context of a church, while they are given opportunities to exercise their charism through participation in the movement. On this basis, then, The Salvation Army ought to have sought a formal relationship with the Church of England, or some other church, rather than insisting on its independence.145 That would have allowed Salvationists to focus on their particular charism, rather than undertaking the tasks of a church while also attempting to fulfil a unique vocation of evangelizing neglected people. Establishing such a relationship would also have made the non-observance of sacraments a non-issue, since Salvationists would be in a position to receive the sacraments from a church. Finally, it would also have allowed The Salvation Army to avoid becoming another denomination among the many that already existed - a result which the early Salvationists repeatedly claimed they wanted to avoid. _____________________________________ 145 This is the point at which Catholics might suggest, of course, that these two cases cannot be compared, since a Protestant movement such as The Salvation Army has to decide which Protestant church to which it might attach itself, none of which actually claims the kind of ecclesial fullness that the Catholic Church claims for itself. [ Page ] 248 CONCLUSION The theology of ecclesial charisms which I am espousing carries implications for both the Paulist Fathers and The Salvation Army. While early Paulist self-understanding accords well with my proposal, the early history of the Paulists saw the movement taking on tasks beyond their charism, in that they were given responsibility for a parish. This ought not to have happened from the perspective of the Paulist charism, because, as a specialized movement, they ought to have been free to focus on evangelism in America. Therefore, I am suggesting that, had Catholics in the nineteenth century conceived of the episcopacy in terms of one charism in the community, and had the bishops of their day approached the movement with an appreciation for the importance of allowing the Paulists to focus their energy solely on their charism, the Paulist institution would have been in a better position to serve as a means of grace for their particular charism. The implications of my proposal for The Salvation Army focus more on the movement’s self-understanding, and its relation to the established church, as I have just been arguing above. The movement faced a similar difficulty to that of the Paulists, in that they took on the functions of a “church,” and yet in the case of The Salvation Army these pastoral duties were self-imposed as a result of their decision to remain an independent mission. The Salvationist movement would have more freedom to focus on its specific charism of evangelism for the neglected if it existed in a formal partnership with a church. This would also resolve the deep ecclesiological ambiguities in The Salvation Army and allow it to exist as a truly specialized vocational movement, rather than a movement-church hybrid. [ Page ] 249 CHAPTER III.4 ONGOING INTERPRETATION OF THE CHARISM A specialized vocational movement, as the institutional means for the cultivation and preservation of a particular ecclesial charism, faces the task of interpreting the charism of their movement in changing times and circumstances. The founders and early members of these movements believe that they have been “raised up by God” for a particular purpose, and have a strong sense that the rise of their movement is providential. As the movement continues beyond its early formative stage, it is faced with the need to discern God’s providential leading in new times and places. This often calls for a re-evaluation or re-articulation of the charism of the movement. Furthermore, because ecclesial movements are social institutions, they are subject to the same tendencies as other social institutions, and therefore run the risk of allowing the forces of institutionalization to compromise or distort the charism of the movement. Therefore, in order to be faithful to the gifts which the Spirit has entrusted to the community, an ecclesial movement must be constantly open to evaluation and adaptation, if it is to continue to function as a means of the particular charismatic grace around which the movement was formed. Often the tension that arises within the movement over time relates to a choice between mere imitation of the acts of the founder and interpretation of the charism of the founder.1 Simple imitation might actually be a sign of a problematic institutionalization of the movement. For example, a particular practice may be preserved by a community because it was the done in the early history of the movement, regardless of whether or not it furthers the movement’s vocation in a new context.2 On the other hand, there is a danger that the movement might falsely in-graft other distinctive practices or ideas into its charism, thus providing them with a ______________________________________ 1 I have taken this distinction between the interpretation of the charism and imitation of the actions of the founder from Lozano Foundresses Founders and their Religious Families 87—90 2 In Paulist history, the practice of using “mission bands,” to be discussed below, is an appropriate example. [ Page ] 250 form of triumphalistic divine sanction for their particular historical decisions.3 Ecclesial movements, therefore, are called upon to undertake a dynamic interpretation of their charism in the present context. This is only possible, of course, once the work of identifying the charism of the founder and of the movement itself has already been done, as I have done in the case of the Paulists and The Salvation Army above in chapters III.1 and III.2. Once the charism is properly identified, the movement is in a position to evaluate particular historical practices which are intended to serve as the means of cultivating and preserving that charism. The provisional nature of charisms, discussed in chapter II.1, means that any movement must also remain open to the idea that its charism may no longer be needed in the special way that it was needed at the time of the movement’s founding. Indeed the movement itself may have served its purpose for a particular time, and may be called upon to disband itself at a later point in its history. Having identified the charisms of the Paulists and the Salvationists, I will now evaluate the ways in which each movement continued to serve as a means of that particular concrete expression of grace in the generations that followed each movement’s founding. As with previous chapters, I am applying the theology of charisms to the history of these two movements, in spite of the fact that they themselves do not use this specific language.4 My task, therefore, is not to summarize the way that these particular movements interpreted their charism per se, but to evaluate their historical development from the perspective of the theology of ecclesial charisms, drawing particularly on specific incidents which illustrate how the movement understood its particular vocation at different times. There is no space in this brief chapter to provide a ____________________________________ 3 Some strands of Salvationist thinking about the sacraments evidence this tendency, beginning in the mid-twentieth century, as will be discussed below. 4 The Paulists, of course, began to think explicitly in terms of a Paulist “charism” in the late twentieth century. However, they do not use the term in the literature I am examining in this chapter. [ Page ] 251 comprehensive history of these two movements.5 Rather, I have chosen particular examples of historical developments in each movement which will serve to further develop and investigate the theology of ecclesial charisms. For the Paulists, I begin with the Americanism controversy, which took place in the years following Hecker’s death, but left the community under a cloud of suspicion well into the twentieth century. The controversy serves as a further illustration of the misapprehension of the Paulist charism among the hierarchy, particularly in Europe. I will then discuss changes in the characteristic practices of the movement as an indication of the ongoing interpretation of the Paulist charism. In particular, I will note how Paulists continued their use of mass communications and became strongly engaged in campus ministry, but gradually became less involved in what had been their original preoccupation: missions. This pushed the movement into a time of introspection regarding whether the continued practice of missions was essential to the Paulist charism. The internal ferment caused by the decline of missions prepared the ground for a more fundamental re-visioning of the Paulist charism in the wake of Vatican II. The end result was that the Paulists added ecumenism to the purpose of their movement, in the place of their earlier problematic emphasis on the conversion of non-Catholic Christians. I will argue that this is a re-interpretation of the Paulist charism in the light of new ecclesiological presuppositions, rather than the development of a “new” charism. The ongoing interpretation of the Salvationist charism focuses primarily on the tension _______________________________________ 5 The only attempt at providing an ongoing history of the Paulists after the early period and the Americanism controversy is found in McVann, The Paulists. This is an official history, commissioned by the community, and written by one of its own. It lacks some scholarly documentation, but was intended for internal community use, and was therefore never published. The Salvation Army’s official history is currently up to eight volumes: Sandall, History of The Salvation Army; Arch Wiggins, The History of The Salvation Army, Vols. 4-5 (London: The Salvation Army, 1964); Frederick Coutts, The Better Fight: The History of the Salvation Army, Vol. 6, 1914-1946 (London: The Salvation Army, 1976); Frederick Coutts, The Weapons of Goodwill: The History of the Salvation Army, Vol. 7, 1946-1977 (London: The Salvation Army, 1986); Henry Gariepy, Mobilized for God: The History of The Salvation Army, Vol. 8, 1977-1994 (London: The Salvation Army, 1999). [ Page ] 252 inherent in the Army’s hybrid status as a movement-church. In its ongoing development The Salvation Army has evidenced a gradual trend towards self-identification as “a church,” in contrast to the resistance of early Salvationists to such an idea. As Salvationists came to see themselves as a church among other churches, the distinctive focus of the movement on a charism of evangelism for the neglected was obscured, though it remains part of the Salvationist identity. As argued above, a church is characterized by a plurality of charisms, and requires a plurality of charisms in order to function as a church. As The Salvation Army came to see itself in increasingly churchly terms, its focus on the cultivation of the particular charism of evangelism among the neglected was necessarily lessened as the cultivation of a variety of charisms became part of the community’s regular life. The Salvationist charism did not change over time, nor was it invalidated by the loss of focus on evangelism among the neglected as The Salvation Army’s primary purpose. However, the exercise of the charism was hindered by the many other ecclesial concerns which came to occupy the energies and efforts of Salvationists and of the institution as a whole. THE AMERICANISM CONTROVERSY AS A MISAPPREHENSION OF THE PAULIST CHARISM The first historical incident relevant to the ongoing interpretation of the Paulist charism does not concern the internal dynamics of the Paulist community itself, but rather the reception of the Paulist charism by the broader Catholic Church. Hecker’s vision for affirming American culture and institutions and adapting the American Church for the American culture was not well received by all Catholics. The issue was particularly acute in Europe, where the nineteenth century had seen the Catholic Church’s temporal authority and power radically eroded by new political arrangements. In France, the tumult of the revolution and ensuing successive political [ Page ] 253 upheavals in the decades that followed brought great changes for Catholics, forcing them to re- think the way church and state ought to relate to one another under a republican system of government as opposed to a monarchy.6 In such a context, American ideas concerning democracy and the separation of church and state were seen by monarchists as part of the same set of ideals that was causing trouble for the Catholic Church in France and other European states, and American Catholics were treated with a degree of skepticism.7 By the 1890s, after Hecker’s death, the Catholic community, both in America and in Europe, was divided into what could be called “progressive” and “conservative” camps, with the progressive leadership, particularly in the United States, attempting to “export American Catholicism to Europe,” seeing the separation of church and state as “a trans-Atlantic cure for the religious and political ills of Old Europe.”8 This was a kind of “Americanism,” though the word had not yet come to take on the “heretical” associations that it would assume after 1899.9 On the other hand, the conservative faction of bishops was highly skeptical of any accommodation to American culture. The progressive voices in America had allies in France, and it was these connections which would create trouble for Hecker and the Paulists in the years following his death. Walter Elliott’s enthusiastic biography of Hecker eventually found its way into the hands of Abbé Felix Klein, a professor at the Institute Catholique in Paris and an admirer of _________________________________ 6 Vincent F. Holden, “A Myth in ‘L’Américanisme’,” The Catholic Historical Review 31, no. 2 (1945): 155. 7 Thomas T. McAvoy, The Great Crisis in American Catholic History: 1895-1900 (Chicago: Henry Regnery Company. 1957). 11-12. 8 William L Portier, “Two Generations of American Catholic Expansionism in Europe: Isaac Hecker and John H Keane.,” in Rising from History: U.S. Catholic Theology Looks to the Future, ed. Robert J Daly, The Annual Publication of the College Theological Society, 1984, no. 30 (Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 1987), 53. 9 The kind of “Americanism” which progressive leaders like bishops John J. Keane and John Ireland were promoting was simply a “concern was for American Catholics to be good citizens by cooperating with the nation’s institutions,” which meant embracing the secular character of government. In Europe, the allies of these progressive American leaders were supporters of Pope Leo XIII’s Ralliement policy, which advocated that French Catholics should cooperate the Third Republic (see Leo XIII, “Encyclical Letter Au Milieu des Sollicitudes, February 16, 1892,” in The Great Encyclical Letters of Pope Leo XIII (New York: Benziger Brothers, 1903), 249-263.). Some of these French progressives saw the situation of the American church as a sign of hope for their future, and hoped to encourage Europeans to cooperate with their state governments in civic life. McVann, The Paulists, 449-452. [ Page ] 254 progressive American Archbishop John Ireland, 10 who edited an earlier translation for publication, and made it into a tool for the promotion of the progressive Catholic agenda.11 Isaac Hecker was presented by Klein as the ideal priest, and the model of sanctity for the Church of his day and the Church of the future.12 The London Tablet ran a review which foresaw the trouble that might arise from Klein’s portrayal of Hecker: “He rather out-Heckers Hecker precisely in those points on which it were possible for a critic bent on fault-finding to attach to his words a meaning of doubtful orthodoxy.”13 It was this French version of Hecker’s biography which brought the Americanism controversy to a head. Abbé Charles Maignen, described by William Portier as a “rabid French monarchist,”14 wrote a rebuttal of the Vie, and attacked Hecker’s character as well as his ideas, in order to discredit the progressivist cause. Relying solely on the French translation of Elliott’s Life, without consulting any of Hecker’s own writings, Maignen produced a caricature of Hecker that was factually inaccurate and distorted some of his ideas, suggesting his teachings on religious life, vows, the Church, and the Holy Spirit were unorthodox.15 It was Maignen’s book which proved to be the flashpoint of the Americanist controversy. ___________________________________ 10 As evidenced by work in translating some of Ireland’s speeches into French: see John. Ireland, L’église et le siècle : conferences et discours de Mgr. Ireland trans by Félix Klein (Paris: V Lecoffre 1894) 11 The biography had originally been given to Vicomte Alfred de Meaux, who was an ally of Hecker. De Meaux had recently written a French book on American Catholicism, which reflected the positive assessment of the European “progressives.” Alfred de Meaux, L’Église catholique et la liberté aux États-Unis (Paris: V. Lecoffre, 1893). De Meaux then passed the book on to Count Guillaume de Charbol, whose cousin the Countess de Revilliasc prepared a translation, though no publisher could be found. Thus it came into the hands of Abbé Felix Klein. On the translation as a tool for the progressive agenda see McVann The Paulists 448; Holden “A Myth in ‘L’Américanisme’ ” 156. 12 For example, in his preface, Klein upholds Hecker as a doctor of the Church, a model of mystical communion for all, and a founder standing in the league of Ignatius Loyola. Le Père Hecker: Fondateur des “Paulistes” Américains, 1819-1888, xv-xvi. 13 The Tablet, March 18, 1899, quoted in Holden, “A Myth in ‘L’Américanisme’,” 157. 14 William L. Portier, “Isaac Hecker and Testem Benevolentiae: A Study in Theological Pluralism,” in Hecker Studies: Essays on the Thought of Isaac Hecker, ed. John Farina (Ramsey, NJ: Paulist Press, 1983), 16. 15 See Charles Maignen, Le Père Hecker est-il un saint? (Paris: Desclée, 1898); ET Father Hecker: Is He a Saint? (London: Burns & Oates, 1898). For a detailed account of the accusations made by Maignen, along with a defense of Hecker’s teaching, see McVann, The Paulists, 457-470. A less detailed refutation of the major charges against Hecker is found in Holden, “A Myth in ‘L’Américanisme’,” 159-165. [ Page ] 255 By this time “Americanism” had come to take on several different meanings in addition to simple accommodation of the Church to the conditions of American political and religious life,16 and it had become a matter of great controversy, with Hecker thrust into the midst of it all on account of the way he was portrayed in the French translation of Elliott’s biography.17 Eventually the controversy reached the Vatican, and the result of this controversy was the encyclical Testem Benevolentiae, issued January 22, 1899.18 Testem Benevolentiae does not condemn Hecker or the Paulists, but mentions how the translation of Hecker’s biography has caused controversy “on account of certain opinions which are introduced concerning the manner of leading a Christian life.” These “new opinions” are said to be based upon the fundamental assumption that “in order the more easily to bring over to Catholic doctrine those who dissent from it, the Church ought to adapt herself somewhat to our advanced civilization, and, relaxing her ancient rigor, show some indulgence to modern popular theories and methods.”19 In particular, the letter speaks against those who would advocate that “a certain liberty ought to be introduced into the Church, so that, limiting the exercise and vigilance of its powers, each one of the faithful may act more freely in pursuance of his own natural bent and capacity,” doing so in __________________________________ 16 McVann summarizes the variety of ways the term was used in The Paulists 473. 17 The attacks against Hecker are summarized in Ibid., 472-473. There is debate in the literature on Americanism regarding whether Hecker was indeed a significant advocate and contributor to the Americanist cause, or simply a pawn used by both sides in this debate. See Portier, “Two Generations of American Catholic Expansionism in Europe ” 65 n. 2. 18 The Vatican had been asked to weigh in on the fact that Maignen’s book had been granted an imprimatur by Father Albert Lepidi, the Pope’s theologian, thereby seemingly giving approval to a vicious attack on Hecker’s character and teaching. McVann, The Paulists, 456. The imprimatur was protested by Bishops John J. Keane, longtime Hecker ally, and Archbishop John Ireland, who had written a foreward to Elliot’s biography of Hecker. Ibid., 470. Keane had attempted to join the Paulists in 1872, but was denied by his bishop on the grounds that Keane was a likely candidate for the episcopacy. Keane did in fact become Bishop of Richmond, VA, in 1878. Keane had a close relationship with Hecker, who, Portier believes, saw Keane as a kind of protégé. Portier, “Two Generations of American Catholic Expansionism in Europe,” 56. Pope Leo XIII took the step of taking the matter into his own hands, after a protest against Maignen’s book was sent to the Vatican by senior-ranking American bishop, Cardinal James Gibbons, in August of 1898. McVann, The Paulists, 474; McAvoy, The Great Crisis, 271-273. 19 Leo XIII, “Apostolical Letter Testem Benevolentiae, January 22, 1899, addressed to His Eminence Cardinal Gibbons, Archbishop of Baltimore,” in The Great Encyclical Letters of Pope Leo XIII (New York: Benziger Brothers, 1903), 442. [ Page ] 256 an effort “to imitate that liberty which...is now the law and the foundation of almost every civil community.”20 Six consequences of these presuppositions are then singled out for censure: the rejection of external guidance, the elevation of natural virtues over supernatural virtues, a distinction between active and passive virtues, a disdain for the religious life, the idea that religious life contributes little or nothing to the Church, and the notion that past methods of communicating the gospel to non-Catholics are to be abandoned.21 The conclusion of Testem Benevolentiae states that “Americanism” is acceptable if it simply refers to an affirmation of those aspects of American culture and political life which are praiseworthy. It is to be rejected, however, if it commends any of the errors condemned in the letter, in part because “it raises suspicion that there are some among you who conceive of and desire a church in America different from that which is in the rest of the world.”22 Based on my discussion Hecker’s views of the Church and the ecclesiological foundations of the Paulist movement in chapter III.3, I would concur with the judgment of Portier, which holds that the views condemned in Testem Benevolentiae were not those of Isaac Hecker or the Paulist community.23 Although it was not a direct censure of Hecker, nor of the Paulist Fathers, Testem Benevolentiae did leave the community under a cloud of suspicion in the eyes of many Catholics. The Paulists chose to allow matters to unfold, without directly defending themselves, except in a protest written by then-Superior General George Deshon, submitted to the Archbishops for action at their annual meeting in October of 1898, in which he ______________________________ 20 Ibid. 444. 21 Ibid., 445-452. 22 Ibid., 452. McAvoy describes this line of argument as based on a distinction between “political Americanism” and “religious Americanism,” with the latter singled out for condemnation by the letter and identified with the views condemned by Maignen. McAvoy, The Great Crisis, 272. 23 Portier, “Isaac Hecker and Testem Benevolentiae: A Study in Theological Pluralism.” See also Holden, “A Myth in ‘L’Américanisme’”; McVann, The Paulists, 447-490. [ Page ] 257 vigorously defended the orthodoxy of Hecker’s positions.24 Their protest, however, was never taken beyond this meeting to the Vatican, because their own Archbishop, Michael Corrigan, assured them there was no need for American bishops to interfere with the process already underway in Rome.25 The fact that the controversy placed the Paulists in this position points once again to a lack of recognition of the Paulist charism by the Catholic hierarchy of the time. The Paulist charism of evangelizing the American people was seen as a threat, rather than a gift to be received, because the American people and American culture were viewed with skepticism. While Paulists in America continued to be used by their bishops, and their ministry continued to bear fruit, they were nevertheless still identified with a problematic way of accommodating the Church to the culture, and Hecker’s ideas were largely ignored in Catholic theology until the 1940s, except for passing references to his association with Americanism.26 The general suspicion that fell upon the Paulist community can be seen in the wake of the condemnation of Modernism by Pius X in 1907, during which the Paulists were treated with suspicion by those on the watch for any hints of Modernist teaching.27 The fact that this suspicion of the Paulists continued to be a problem long after the ______________________________________ 24 Deshon classified the charges against Hecker as coming under three categories: devotion to the Holy Spirit, spiritual direction, and the vows taken by religious. The document is summarized and reproduced in its entirety in Holden, “A Myth in ‘L’Américanisme’,” 165-168; as well as in McAvoy, The Great Crisis, 266-268. 25 The Paulists later learned that Corrigan, a staunch conservative, had written to Fr. Lepidi congratulating him for giving the imprimatur to Maignen’s book. Holden cites a letter from Archbishop Ireland to Deshon, February 24, 1899, which stated, “A Cardinal whose name is not to be written said: ‘Corrigan has written to Lepidi a letter of approval and congratulations’ and I read the letter.” Holden, “A Myth in ‘L’Américanisme’,” 168; See also McVann, The Paulists, 477. Ibid., 477. 26 Portier gives evidence of this, noting that even as late as 1982, Joseph McShane’s review of John Farina’s An American Experience of God in America (May 1, 1982) could refer in passing to Pope Leo XIII’s “condemnation of ITH’s views.” Portier “Isaac Hecker and Testem Benevolentiae: A Study in Theological Pluralism ” 11-12 nn. 3-4. 27 McVann writes that, after 1907, the “effects of the heresy remained a while, to bring anxiety to Community and superior. There was an apprehension that a few professors of Theology and Sacred Scripture taught with a Modernist flavor (untrue, but still so imagined by an overzealous denunciatory group known as Integralists)...An air of suspicion lay over some Community members, and one fully orthodox member suffered years in silence from remarks that he was a crypto-Modernist.” McVann, The Paulists, 719. [ Page ] 258 controversy about Americanism can further be seen in the changes that the Vatican made to the Paulist rule, before it was finally approved in 1940. Officials in the Sacred Congregation for Religious re-wrote the rule in 1929, as part of a re-working of the constitutions of all religious groups in accordance with the 1917 Code of Canon Law. The Sacred Congregation’s changes caused consternation among the Paulists, precisely because it was those aspects of their community life which were seen as too “American” which were removed and replaced with more authoritarian structures. For example, when electing a Superior General, the Paulists had previously held a popular ballot among all members of the Community who had been ordained for three years. This was discontinued, and not reinstated until 1970.28 They were also particularly concerned with the way that general chapters were to be convened, because it seemed that, under the new rule, ex-officio members were given a much greater say than elected representatives of the various houses.29 Superior General John Harney travelled to Rome, in an attempt, as he reported to the following general chapter, “to root out, as far as might be, the autocratic and oligarchical features that had been introduced into our community life by the new Constitutions, and to restore the democratic principles under which we had previously lived.”30 They were eventually able to gain some concessions, but were not allowed to live out their vision for the community as they had really hoped.31 All of this points to the fact that the Paulist charism was still not unreservedly received by those who were exercising oversight for the movement through the first half of the 20th century. ____________________________ 28 Ibid 922 29 McVann’s commentary on these changes is telling: “There was immediate dissatisfaction in the Community with much of it, as having too much Roman and too little Paulist tradition...That did not sit well with men inspired by Fr. Hecker’s preference for American democracy.” Ibid., 924. 30 Ibid. 31 The rule was not finally approved until 1940. This was in part by design, because the revised constitutions had been introduced on a seven-year trial, and were therefore not to be approved until 1936. Two things caused further delay: a complaint against the community made by a disgruntled member, and the outbreak of war, which hampered communications. Ibid., 924-926. [ Page ] 259 The Paulists were, to be sure, well respected in America, as is evidenced by the fact that they continued to be used in a variety of roles, and took a leading role in the Catholic Church’s efforts during the two world wars.32 However, their European overseers continued to be somewhat skeptical of the integration of American cultural values within their community, as can be seen in the way that the re-drafting of the constitutions was handled. However, lest I overstate the hesitancy of the hierarchy, there was at least some recognition that the Paulists had a particular gift for relating to Americans, even at the Vatican. For this reason, when it was felt that an English parish should be established in Rome to minister to the needs of the growing number of Americans living there, the Vatican turned to the Paulists, giving them Santa Susanna’s Church for this purpose in January 1922.33 In my assessment, the mixed reception which the Paulists received in their early history due to the Americanism controversy does not invalidate the Paulist charism, precisely because the Paulists did continue to have a fruitful ministry in the Church, in spite of the suspicions that surrounded their community, and in spite of the way that these suspicions hindered them in the exercise of their charism. But the lack of recognition does highlight the difficulty in dealing with this rejection from a Catholic perspective, for the approbation of the bishops seems to suggest, based on the unfailing way in which the Spirit is thought to work through both the individual and the external authority of the Church, that the Paulists were wrong about the American aspect of ______________________________________ 32 Paulist Father John J. Burke was the leading administrator and a founding member of the National Catholic War Council, founded in 1917. This was the first national Catholic organization in the United States, and it later evolved into to the National Catholic Welfare Conference, and eventually was replaced by the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops. Fr. Burke, in his role, worked closely not only with the American Catholic hierarchy but also with military and government officials in Washington. McVann claims Burke was “the greatest American Catholic priest in that period.” See Ibid., 535-576. 33 Fr. James Cunningham, recalling a conversation with Joseph McSorley, who had been Superior General at the time the Paulists took over Santa Susanna’s, summarizes as follows: “Since the Paulists were an American religious society - and the first one founded in America - it seemed logical to the Vatican that they should be offered an opportunity to look after American citizens abroad, as well as at home.” James F. Cunningham, American Pastor in Rome (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1966), 106. [ Page ] 260 their charism, or that they needed to be restrained against excesses in this regard. As discussed in chapter III.3, Hecker’s own presuppositions regarding authority in the Church left him with no way of accounting for his charism’s misapprehension, other than to acquiesce to the judgment of the bishops. Those same basic presuppositions remained an aspect of Catholic theology throughout this period of mixed reception, extending into the middle of the twentieth century. And yet, in the long-run of Paulist historical life, the later acceptance of the “American” character of the movement’s charism (to be discussed later in this chapter) suggests that the hierarchy of the nineteenth century was unduly biased against American culture and ideas because of the historical challenges they faced at that particular time. The case of the Paulists therefore highlights the way in which the approval of those in oversight cannot be the sole criteria for determining the validity of an ecclesial charism. The charism of oversight does not provide those charged with the task of oversight with an unfailing ability to discern, and in some cases, a charism which is not fully received may yet demonstrate its validity by its fruit in building up the Church. CHARACTERISTIC PRACTICES AND THE DECLINE OF MISSIONS Another way to examine the ongoing interpretation of the Paulist charism is to consider the characteristic practices that the Paulists undertook after Isaac Hecker was gone. The types of missionary activity in which the Paulists chose to engage speak to their sense of vocation, particularly as they started to take on new tasks that were not undertaken by the first generation. Likewise, as they continued to interpret the Paulist charism over time, some of the practices they had engaged in during their formative days were discontinued. There are numerous practices [ Page ] 261 which could be considered, including their widespread use of mobile mission trailers,34and their involvement in military chaplaincy during the two world wars.35 However, Paulist involvement in communications and campus ministry played perhaps the most significant role in the ongoing development of the movement in the first half of the twentieth century. Likewise, the decline in missions36 was the cause of a significant amount of consternation and reflection on the Paulist vocation. Paulists had always been interested in communications, as seen in their heavy investment in print media, a commitment which I have already discussed in relation to Hecker’s own activities and the early formation of the movement. The Catholic World continued to be the primary literary outlet for the Paulist community until late in the 20th century.37 Paulist publishing efforts expanded, however, through the operation that would become known as Paulist Press, a leading Catholic publisher in America in the 20th century.38 In addition to publishing popular books with an apologetic and evangelistic aim by Paulist Fathers, such as The Question Box and Plain Facts for Fair Minds,39 Paulist Press’s projects included a number of different Paulist magazines, as well as early volumes of the significant post-Vatican II theological journal Concilium.40 These later generations of Paulists continued to view their publication efforts as an important part of their charism of evangelism to America. Fr. John _____________________________________ 34 This was seen as a rather innovative practice for Catholics at the time, and one for which Paulists were known in certain parts of America. See McVann, The Paulists, 361-363; Cunningham, American Pastor in Rome, 71-78. 35 See McVann, The Paulists 535-576; Cunningham. American Pastor in Rome, 82-94. 36 When the Paulists refer to “missions” they mean special campaigns of outreach through services, lectures, instructions, and visitations in a particular community. These might be “parish” missions, aimed at revitalizing Catholic life, or non-Catholic missions, aimed at reaching out into the community. 37 The final issue of The Catholic World was published in 1996 38 Paulist Press began as Columbus Press in 1891, and was initially an operation which published The Catholic World and low-cost pamphlets. The name was changed to Paulist Press in 1913. McVann, The Paulists, 757. 39 Bertrand L. Conway, The Question Box: Replies to Questions Received on Missions to Non-Catholics (New York Paulist Press, 1929); G. M. Searle, Plain Facts for Fair Minds: An Appeal to Candor and Common Sense (New York: Paulist Press 1920). 40 The Paulist magazines included The Missionary, The Paulist News, The Catholic Layman, and Information. McVann, The Paulists, 776-778. [ Page ] 262 Carr, who was responsible for Paulist Press in the 1960s, described Paulist Press as “a missionary enterprise of the Paulist Fathers, devoted to the presentation and dissemination of reading and learning material solely for religious and educational purposes.”41 In the 1920s, as radio broadcasting was becoming a widespread phenomenon, the Paulists established one of the first radio stations in America, Station WLWL, originally broadcasting from a tower built on their property, and beginning operations on September 24, 1925.42 The programming was mostly focused on speakers addressing apologetic and religious issues, although a broader mandate was originally conceived.43 Radio was seen as an opportunity for the community to take their message to an audience that would never be reached by their traditional mission activities.44 Although station WLWL only lasted for 12 years, and was plagued by a variety of financial and regulatory challenges,45 the Paulists remained committed to the use of telecommunications as a way of living out their charism. They therefore often made appearances on other radio shows, and eventually became involved in television and film production.46 __________________________ 41 Quoted in Ibid. 766. 42 Ibid 875-881 43 McVann writes, “While the station was in construction, its sponsors announced that it would broadcast sermons for Catholics and non-Catholics, talks on apologetics, accounts of Catholic activities and movements; matters of civic concern such as health, education, stage and screen; cultural programs such as Catholic art, music, and literature; and musical programs by the best talent of the metropolis and nearby cities...Incomplete records of the station’s twelve years show that some categories were well provided, but others only feebly and occasionally. The station was strong in speakers.” Ibid. 883. 44 Paulists on missions had already experimented with radio broadcasts. Bernard Conway and David Kennedy had conducted a mission in November and December of 1921 in Pittsburgh, during which their sermons and Question Box sessions were broadcast over the first commercial radio station in America, KDKA. The fathers noted that their message was heard in over 20 states. Ibid., 875. 45 McVann records the details of a nine year struggle with government authorities during these early days of radio. The station stopped broadcasting on June 16, 1937. Ibid., 883-899. 46 For example, Fr. John Dimond said a televised Sunday Mass over local television stations in Washington DC from 1953-1963, and Fr. Robert O’Donnell appeared on NBC’s coverage of Paul VI’s visit to New York in 1965. A more lasting television presence was found in the program Insight, created by Fr. Ellwood Kieser, which ran for 23 years, winning Emmy awards and enlisting performances from major Hollywood stars. Ibid., 899-913. Kieser founded Paulist Productions, which is still in operation, and produced the 1989 film Romero and Entertaining [ Page ] 263 The Paulists were also engaged in campus ministry from an early stage, and this became one of their primary missionary activities as the twentieth century progressed. Their first involvement in campus ministry was in 1907, and by the mid-1960s they had taken on twenty- five engagements in the so-called “Newman Apostolate” - a very significant aspect of their overall work, given the small size of the Paulist community. 47 The Paulists understood this particular work to be very well suited to their objective of evangelizing America. The St. Paul’s Parish Calendar in September of 1924 expresses how the Paulists understood their own peculiar gift to the Church to be well suited to this kind of missionary activity: “With their fresh outlook, expert acquaintance with Catholic apologetics, thorough sympathy with the American spirit, and tact in dealing with non-Catholics the Paulists are recognized as peculiarly fitted for this important and difficult work.”48 Thus campus ministry became an increasingly characteristic Paulist activity as they continued to re-interpret their charism throughout the 20th century. But new endeavours in such areas as communications and campus ministry could be seen as coming at the expense of the original characteristic activity of the Paulists: missions. From their earliest beginnings, the Paulists had identified “missions in the spirit of St. Alphonsus” as their first and most important task.49 Although engagement in missions declined gradually throughout the first half of the 20th century, the Paulist community continued to insist on their importance. For example, the 1959 Decrees of the Society of Missionary Priests of St. Paul the Apostle stated, “Among the works of the Society, first place is to be given to missions,” whether _____________________________________________________________________________________________________ Angels: the Dorothy Day Story (1995). More recently, the Paulists have become actively involved in internet-based outreach to young adults through their website “Busted Halo,” http://bustedhalo.com/. 47 Ibid. 1131. 48 Cited in Ibid. McVann also notes that Catholic historian John Tracy Ellis, in a 1965 address to the Paulists, challenged them to consider their work on campuses as the most important task at hand for the remainder of the century: “Is there any feature or aspect of Paulist life through the remaining years of the twentieth century that merits more complete dedication, or that can be said to outrank the Newman apostolate in urgency and importance Ibid. 1153. 49 From the original “Programme of the Rule,” July 7, 1858, in McSorley, Father Hecker and His Friends, 192. [ Page ] 264 they be for Catholics or non-Catholics.50 However, as John Stephenson has demonstrated, from the late 1920s, the Paulist missions began to decline, to the point that by the late twentieth century, missions were no longer a central feature of Paulist practice.51 This caused the Paulist community to question whether continued imitation of the practices of their founding generation was necessary for faithful interpretation of their charism in the mid-twentieth century. A collection of papers from the 1959 Paulist Missionary Convention demonstrates both the Paulist commitment to missions and their awareness that this practice was slipping away from them. The papers provide a fascinating window on the ongoing dialogue taking place within the Paulist movement regarding their identity and vocation. Father William Michell, then Superior General, opened the convention by remarking on the importance of missions, but noted that they were not a missionary community “in the restricted sense of the term,” and that the presence of other “genuine obligations” meant that the mission work “has not received the attention it deserves.” 52 These are telling comments, from my perspective, because they demonstrate a recognition, even within the community, of the difficulties of maintaining a focus on a particular charism when other tasks are taken up by the community - a problem which, as I noted in chapter II.2, began with the ambiguity of the founding documents of the Paulist Fathers That same month, a Paulist “Committee on Missions” moved that the 1959 general chapter “reaffirm the place of missions in Paulist Life,” and also recommended that “for the next three years in making assignments the Superior General and Council place emphasis on the needs of ______________________________________ 50 Paulist Fathers, Decrees of the Society of Missionary Priests of St. Paul the Apostle (New York: Paulist, 1959), §12 p. 10. 51 John W Stephenson, “Primitive Methodists, Paulists, and Pentecostals: Toward a Historical Typology of Declines and Decline of Movements of Revival” (Th.D., Toronto: Wycliffe College, University of Toronto, 2000), 290-301. Stephenson argues that the practice of conducting missions was in fact a central aspect of Paulist “distinctives,” and that the loss of missions as a distinctive practice actually meant that the Paulists underwent a fundamental change of identity 52 Paulist Fathers, Paulist Missionary Convention: January 6-8, 1959 (Washington, DC: St. Paul’s College, 1959), 7. [ Page ] 265 the missions,” further suggesting that greater attention to missions was needed.53 Fr. Benjamin Bowling delivered a paper on “The Apostolate to the Non-Catholics on Missions,” and made note of how missions were suffering because of expansion into other areas.54 Fr. Stephen Latchford complained about a lack of coherent strategy in missions among his contemporaries,55 while the comment of Fr. John Tarrant urged the continuing centrality of missions for the Paulist Community: “It seems to me that the whole Paulist tradition is contained in one statement. “The primary work of the Paulists is to preach missions.””56 Even while statements such as these were heard at the 1959 Missionary Convention, another paper urged that Paulists should become more involved in leading retreats for other priests, presenting retreats as “a piece of business that is wide open,” and noting that engagements for missions were “either on the downcurve or downright spotty.”57 At the same time, another stream of thinking about Paulist identity emerges in the papers from this convention. In his presentation dealing with the continuing relevance of “The Question Box” as a Paulist missionary technique, Fr. Richard Malloy argues that the Paulists were not founded around the practice of missions, but around an evangelical pragmatism, which leads Paulists to be willing to adapt their practices with the times: “The Paulist Community was founded upon the principle of being willing to break with past techniques, no matter how ________________________________________ 53 The report is reproduced in Ibid., 12. 54 Ibid. 40. Note again that there were two types of “missions ” one to Catholics and one to non-Catholics. 55 In his paper on “The Paulist Mission Tradition,” Latchford concluded: “As I look back over the years, contemplating the subject of “The Paulist Mission Tradition” in the light of present-day procedure, I am inclined to ask, “What Mission Tradition?” Today the only tradition that seems to be observed by many of our missionaries is, PAULIST INDIVIDUALITY Nearly every mission superior has his own pet procedure.” Ibid 92-93 56 He continues, “Within recent years we have opened new houses, had new opportunities. It would be well to examine the attitude toward missions and missioners within our own community as well as outside it. Some pastors say the day of the mission is over. Naturally, I disagree. Times have changed, but not people.” Ibid., 93-94. 57 From Fr. Albert Murray’s paper, “Retreats to Priests and Nuns,” Ibid., 96. [ Page ] 266 successful they had been, when these techniques no longer met the challenge of the situation.”58 This alternate vision of the central feature of Paulist identity seems to have been best summed up in a December 1958 report on Paulist Press activities by Fr. John Carr, the following portion of which was quoted by two different Paulists during the Missionary Convention: ... the Paulist Apostolate has never been static. Our vocation dedication has never been circumscribed by, nor has our Mission been restricted to, any one means for the Conversion of America. We have never allowed our Apostolate work to become “jelled” or “hardened.” In fact our existence as a Community was occasioned by Hecker’s reaction to the “rigidity” of the then Redemptorist Apostolate...The Paulist spirit welcomed diversity, change and experiment. Our zeal is flexible, capable of adaption. But it is also, to borrow a phrase from St. Paul, “zeal with knowledge.” Knowledge of the ever-changing intellectual and emotional, geographical and sociological climate of the American people. It is the creative and adaptable spirit of universal apostolicity that stamps us as a truly modern democratic Community.59 Thus suggestions such as the abandonment of “The Question Box,” the adoption of “Sunday Mass Missions,” and the use of up-to-date advertising techniques could all be identified as faithful embodiments of the Paulist spirit.60 By 1967, Fr. John Illig could use the same line of thinking to suggest something that would have seemed anathema to many of those attending th 1958 convention: the suspension of mission bands altogether.61 By the late twentieth century, according to Stephenson’s interviews with Paulists, there were no mission bands, and only a few “lone ranger” missionaries who continued to conduct Paulist missions.62 Missions, which had been enshrined in the founding documents as the _______________________________ 58 Ibid., 29. 59 This passage is quoted in full by Fr. John Bradley in his paper on “The Sunday Mass Mission,” and partially quoted by Latchford in his paper on “The Paulist Mission Tradition,” Ibid., 75-76, 93. The significance of this perspective is confirmed by the fact that McVann also chose to use this passage from Carr’s report as the final word in his 1247-page history of the Paulists. McVann identifies the source as a “circular letter” from Carr, dated December 3 1958. McVann The Paulists 1247. 60 Paulist Fathers, Paulist Missionary Convention: January 6-8, 1959, 76. 61 Illig’s paper, housed in the Paulist Archives, is quoted in Stephenson, “Primitive Methodists, Paulists, and Pentecostals,” 297 and identified in n. 143 as “Discussion Notes On a Talk Delivered to the Paulist Fathers Preaching Apostolate by Alvin Illig, CSP, on December 13. 1967, at St. Paul’s College.” 62 Ibid., 290-291. [ Page ] 267 purpose of the movement, were no longer seen as essential to the Paulist charism. The consternation evident at the 1959 Missionary Convention eventually dissipated as a new vision of the charism of the movement emerged. The radical revision of the Paulist constitution after Vatican II, to be discussed below, would see the specific references to missions removed, and the purpose of the Paulist community re-cast in broader terms as labouring to extend the kingdom of God in a variety of ways, with special stress on interpreting the Church to the contemporary world in an up-to-date manner. VATICAN II AND THE RE-ARTICULATION OF THE PAULIST CHARISM This particularly fascinating and illuminating example of charism-interpretation came to fruition in the Paulist movement during the period following Vatican II. In accordance with the Council’s teachings, particularly the decree on the renewal of the religious life, Perfectae caritatis, the Vatican implemented a worldwide program of renewal for all religious communities.63 Each religious body was to enter into a period consultation with its membership, followed by a special general chapter, during which the community could alter their constitution in an experimental manner.64 Hence, as each community was asked to review its rule and activities, it was to attempt to renew itself according to “the spirit and aim” of their founder,65 or, as it was expressed soon after the council, “the charisms” of their founders.66 The Paulists met ________________________________________ 63 In addition to Perfectae caritatis, see “Norms for Implementing the Decree” (Ecclesiae sanctae II), August 6, 1966; “Instructions on the Renewal of Religious Life” (Renovatus causam), January 6, 1969; and “Apostolic Exhortation on the Renewal of Religious Life (Evangelica testificatio), June 29, 1971; in Flannery, The Documents of Vatican II. 611-655, 680-706. 64 Ecclesiae sanctae II, §§4-6, Ibid., 625. This was the period, discussed n chapter II.3, during which the Catholic theology of charisms was emerging as a significant aspect of church teaching and an important part of Church life 65 Perfectae caritatis, §2, Ibid., 612. Or in the terms of Ecclesiae sanctae,§16, “institutes must seek after a genuine understanding of their original spirit, so that they will preserve it faithfully when deciding on adaptations, will purify their religious life from alien elements, and will free it from what is obsolete.” Ibid., 627. 66 Evagnelica testificatio, §11, in Flannery, The Documents of Vatican II, 685. [ Page ] 268 for a special two year general chapter to undertake this task, June 6 to July 20, 1967 and June 2 to 21, 1968.67 The resulting constitution was published as Experimental Constitutions of the Society of the Missionary Priest of St. Paul the Apostle in 1969. In contrast with the original “Programme of the Rule,” in which progressive and “American” elements of the movement were downplayed, the 1969 constitution emphasizes the forward-looking elements of Paulist identity.68 Echoing the theme of adaptability which was identified above in the papers from the 1959 Missionary Convention, they are said to be marked by “flexibility, and creative and constructive imagination,” enabling them to “devise experiments within the framework of ecclesial and Community cooperation.”69 Their particular concern for America is clearly noted, though now, in acknowledgment of their ongoing work in Toronto, they are said to have “a special concern for North America.”70 What is most significant about this new rule, however, is that, for the first time, the Paulists added ecumenism to the “nature and purpose” section of their constitution, which had, for over 100 years, stated only that the community existed expressly for the purpose of evangelism.71 Indeed, in this experimental constitution, the addition of ecumenism is part of a broader re-conceptualization of Paulist mission, away from “conversion” to extending the reign of God in the world.72 In a section outlining how “Paulists seek to carry out their mission in _______________________________ 67 McVann, The Paulists, 1242. 68 Hecker is described as one “who sought to interpret the Church to the modern world and the modern world to the Church,” and therefore the Paulists “try not only to be attuned to the needs of the present but also to form a vision of tomorrow’s world and to anticipate the needs of the Church in the coming age.” Paulist Fathers, Experimental Constitutions of the Society of Missionary Priests of St. Paul the Apostle (New York: Missionary Society of St. Paul the Apostle, 1969), § 4, p. 2. 69 Ibid., §§ 6, 7; pp. 3-4. 70 Ibid., §4, p. 2. 71 “Evangelism remained the sole stated purpose of the Community until 1967, when ecumenism was added to the “Nature and Purpose” chapter of the constitutions.” McVann The Paulists xi. 72 Paragraph 4 states that Paulists “strive for openness and discernment as they labor to extend the kingdom of God,” and again, asserts that “all that they do should converge on the single purpose of assisting Christ to build up his reign on earth.” Paulist Fathers, Experimental Constitutions, 2. [ Page ] 269 different ways among different peoples,” the constitution first notes that Paulists “try to communicate, with all available means, the Good News of salvation” to those without religious commitment. It continues, Ecumenism is a permanent element in the total life and work of the Paulist Community. Every member should be responsive to the unifying action of the Holy Spirit in other Christians and their Christian Churches, and, wherever possible, they should pray and work with them in the one mission of Christ. Having said this, the document states that Paulists will “prepare and receive any persons who, following their conscience, wish full communion with the Roman Catholic Church.”73 The Paulists had long been involved in ecumenical activity, primarily through campus ministries, and also through involvement in military chaplaincy, both of which brought them into regular contact with other chaplains.74 Among Catholic Religious communities, the Paulists were certainly one of the most familiar with non-Catholics, given their specific vocation to present the Catholic faith to non-Catholics. It is not surprising, therefore, that even before the official change in Church teaching that came with Vatican II, Paulists were among some of the most important pioneers in Catholic ecumenism, and were appointed to important ecumenical posts within the Catholic hierarchy.75 The addition of ecumenism to the community’s officially _______________________________ 73 Ibid., §5, pp. 2-3. 74 On campus ministry, see McVann, The Paulists, 1131-1184.; on military chaplaincy, see Ibid., 1219-1229. For a specific example, see Fr. James Cunningham’s memoir, where he tells of how, both in campus ministry and in the Navy during the 1930s and 40s, he was welcomed and assisted by his protestant colleagues, and developed close working relationships with them. Cunningham, American Pastor in Rome, 62-64, 84-94. 75 Fr. John Sheerin had been chosen as a Catholic observer for the Faith and Order Conference at Oberlin, Ohio in September, 1957 McVann, The Paulists, 1215. Fr. Thomas Stransky was one of the original staff members of the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity (later the Pontifical Council), and went on to have an important career as an ecumenist. Stransky served the Pontifical Council from its inception in 1960 until 1970, after which he returned to the United States, serving as Paulist President (Superior General), and then, from 1986, as Rector of the University of Notre Dame’s Tantur Ecumenical Institute, in Jerusalem. “Father Thomas F. Stransky, CSP,” Paulist Fathers, http://www.paulist.org/bio/father-thomas-f-stransky-csp, (accessed August 21, 2012). Fr. James Cunningham, then-rector of the Paulist parish in Rome, Santa Susanna’s, was also appointed to the Secretariat. Stransky in particular became a key contact for the American ecumenical observers Vatican II, and was able, along with Cunningham, to organize a reception for the observers and the American Bishops, which helped to forge personal relationships between the bishops and leading non-Catholic theologians in the United States. See [ Page ] 270 stated purpose reflects a genuinely new interpretation of the Paulist charism, given that their original intent had been to convert Protestants to Catholicism. In light of the ecumenical work in which the Paulists were already engaged, the official recognition of ecumenism as a part of the community’s purpose represented the corporate sanctioning of an aspect of Paulist practice that had developed organically over time. For example, by 1960 the Paulists were shying away from the term “conversion” in relation to Protestants, and changed their monthly periodical Techniques for Convert Makers to Guide.76 It may be that the Paulists had long seen ecumenism as an unofficial aspect of their vocation, but only felt free to affirm their ecumenical gift in this open and official way once the Catholic Church had entered officially into ecumenical activity and recognized ecumenism as a permanent aspect of Catholic life. Was it, however, a radical departure from Hecker’s original charism of seeking conversions among non-Catholics? The switch from “conversion” to “ecumenism” is in fact a radical re-interpretation, but not, in my assessment, a total change in charism. Rather, the Paulists were forced to re-think what it meant to proclaim the good news of the gospel in an era of new relationships between the Catholic Church and other Christian communities. The re-interpretation should thus properly be located in the context of the broader change that took place in the Catholic Church’s ecclesiology and ecumenical relationships. Rather than actively seeking to “convert” non-Catholics to the one true church, the Council re-cast the relationship as one of seeking reconciliation and unity among _________________________________________________________________________________________________ Cunningham, American Pastor in Rome, 239-261. Stransky served the Pontifical Council from its inception in 1960 until 1970, after which he returned to the United States, serving as Paulist President (Superior General), and then, from 1986, as Rector of the University of Notre Dame’s Tantur Ecumenical Institute, in Jerusalem. Ibid. More recently, Fr. Thomas Ryan is a Paulist who has been a very active ecumenist in Canada and the United States. Ryan directed the Canadian Centre for Ecumenism in Montreal for 14, years, before helping found the Unitas Centre in that city. He was then asked by the Paulists to establish the Paulist Office for Ecumenical and Interfaith Relations, which he now heads in Washington D.C. “Father Thomas Ryan, CSP,” Paulist Fathers, http://www.paulist.org/bio/father-thomas-ryan-csp, (accessed August 21, 2012). See his books Tales of Christian Unity: The Adventures of an Ecumenical Pilgrim (New York: Paulist Press, 1983); A Survival Guide for Ecumenically Minded Christians (Collegeville, Minn.: Liturgical Press, 1989). 76 McVann, The Paulists, 1209. [ Page ] 271 separated brothers and sisters.77 The Paulist charism of evangelism to non-Catholic America was therefore placed in a new light. They could still see themselves as bearers of the good news to non-Catholics, but many of these non-Catholics were now also to be seen as brethren, and therefore proclaiming the good news meant working towards reconciliation and unity with non- Catholic Christians. In a context of ecclesial division, the proclamation of the gospel among separated brothers and sisters involves the proclamation of the unity of all who are in Christ, in spite of the ways in which our divisions contradict that unity. It wasn’t the case, therefore, that mission to non-Catholics was abandoned, but rather it was re-cast in an ecumenical light.78 Paulists, as priests already working constructively with non-Catholics in many settings, were able to make this adaptation and embrace the new enthusiasm for ecumenism among Catholics. Just as William Booth came to see the charism of evangelism in a new light in the late 1890s, and embraced a vision of evangelism which included embodied enactment of the gospel in social action, so the Paulists came to see ecumenism as an aspect of their mission of proclaiming the gospel to non-Catholics in America. One might object that such a view of the Paulist charism as “proclaiming the good news” in America is too broad. Indeed, are not all Christians living in America called to proclaim the good news in that context? What, then, makes the Paulist charism unique? As I argued at the end of chapter II.3, many aspects of Christian vocation are shared with the whole people of God, and the vocation of evangelism is one such vocation. However, there are persons (and, as I have _______________________________________ 77 The literature on this ecclesiological shift is vast. For a summary written just after the Council, see Gregory Baum, “The Ecclesial Reality of the Other Churches,” in The Church and Ecumenism, Concilium 4 (New York: Paulist Press, 1965), 62-86. 78 An interesting illustration of the ongoing commitment to mission in an age of ecumenism is found in a motion passed by the 1964 general chapter, which stated that “Missions for non-Catholics should have an ecumenical tone.” Cited in McVann, The Paulists, 1219. As the Paulists continued to transition out of “missions” the particular ways in which they engaged in ecumenical work changed, but they continued to see the pursuit of Christian unity as important to the mission of the Church in the world. [ Page ] 272 been arguing, movements) which are called in a special way to engage in evangelism, on the basis of a charism of evangelism. As such, the Paulists, or any other movement, do not need to have a vocation that is not found in the broader ecclesial context. Rather, they represent a particular institutional means of grace which serves to further the charism of evangelism in America in a particular and special way. They serve as a focal point and reminder for the whole Church of the common vocation of evangelization.79 This, of course, raises questions about the genuineness of the original Paulist charism, since they were committed explicitly to converting Protestants to the Catholic faith. Did they ever have a charism to convert non-Catholics? Already in my particular reading of the Paulist charism, even in its original historical context, I have framed it not in terms of the “conversion of Protestants,” but rather in terms of evangelism in America (chapters III.1 and III.2). I have done so precisely because I could not have affirmed a genuine Paulist charism for the conversion of Protestants without declaring Protestants to be non-Christians. From the perspective of my own assessment of the Paulist charism, then, it is clear that the post-Vatican II constitution represents a reinterpretation, rather than the discovery of a new charism. In other words, I am proposing that there is a genuine charism of evangelism that lies behind these two different historical Paulist self-understandings. I would argue that, in fact, the post-Vatican II reinterpretation represents an important resolution of an earlier problem in the Paulist interpretation of their own charism. The problem was not that the Paulists had a “false charism.” Rather, they falsely ________________________________________ 79 Objections could still be raised to my inclusion of ecumenical activity within a broad definition of evangelism. As noted in chapter III.1 in relation to Booth’s social ministries, I do so on the basis of an understanding of evangelism as “announcing and embodying the good news of God’s reign,” following the suggestion of Howard Snyder in Snyder, Yes in Christ, 174-178. From such a perspective, evangelism includes not only those actions which the Church has traditionally understood as aimed at the conversion of sinners, but might also include some practices of discipleship, social action, and cultural engagement. While I concede that such a definition of evangelism is debatable, it should not be assumed that I am simply stretching my understanding of evangelism to fit later Paulist interpretations of their charism. Rather, I am assessing their interpretations of their charism on the basis of a particular understanding of evangelism that I bring to the task. [ Page ] 273 interpreted their charism to imply a call to convert Protestants, on the basis of their view that Protestants were excluded from salvation in Christ. As such, the inclusion of ecumenism in the Paulist charism can be seen as the resolution of an earlier tension which plagued the Paulists’ interpretation of their charism. THE MOVEMENT-CHURCH TENSION IN SALVATIONIST HISTORY: OFFICIAL STATEMENTS OF PURPOSE My identification of the ongoing interpretation of the Salvationist charism will be focused on the tension inherent in the Salvation Army’s hybrid movement-church status, and the ways in which the Army shifted its emphasis in an increasingly “churchly” direction, blunting its specific focus on the charism of evangelism among the neglected. From its early days The Salvation Army began to exhibit the traits of a hybrid movement-church, because of its decision to remain independent and autonomous from all other ecclesial institutions. As time went on and generations upon generations of Salvationists were raised within the movement as their “church home,” the Army increasingly came to take on the tasks of a church, and eventually began to self-identify as such, thereby lessening the focus of the movement on its institutional role as a means of grace for the specific Salvationist charism. I will consider this gradual change by first examining official statements of purpose written by Salvationists, after which I will discuss the Army’s participation in the World Council of Churches, and its decision to introduce ordination in 1978.80 _____________________________________ 80 If space permitted, a discussion of the “social-spiritual” tension in Salvation Army history might also be of some interest. Salvationists moved from prioritizing “conversion” work over social work in their early history, to a more holistic understanding of their mission as including both words and deeds which witness to the gospel for the whole person. For an example of the early prioritization of evangelistic efforts over social work, see Bramwell Booth, “The Relation of Social to the Field Work,” in International Social Council, 1921 (London: International Headquarters of the Salvation Army, 1921), 29-42. By the 1965 centenary celebrations, General Frederick Coutts had articulated a theological basis for a both types of ministry in a holistic view of salvation “for the whole man.” See his remarks to the centenary Congress, recorded in Coutts, The Weapons of Goodwill, 187. For further [ Page ] 274 Just as the early Orders and Regulations, produced by William Booth, often included attempts to identify the Army’s purpose and specific mission, later editions of these handbooks also contain such statements. An early edition of The Salvation Army Year Book offers a brief definition of The Salvation Army in a way that clearly articulates its charism the preaching of the gospel “to men and women untouched by ordinary religious efforts.”81 Not all such statements provide that level of specificity, however, in defining The Salvation Army’s purpose. Bramwell Booth’s 1925 revision of the Orders and Regulations for Officers included a definition of The Salvation Army as “an organization” of Christian persons which exists to “bring others to submit themselves to Jesus Christ,” but does not specifically speak to its focus on the neglected. The “purpose of the Organization” is further identified as inducing all men to submit to God, embrace the Salvation provided for them in Christ, accept Jehovah as their Sovereign, obey his laws, and spend their lives in the loving service of those about them, thereby enjoying the favour of God both here and hereafter.82 This statement by Bramwell is repeated often in later official Salvation Army publications, with minor changes of wording, suggesting it had a quasi-definitive status within the movement.83 The scope of the Salvationist charism thus would seem to be worldwide, according to this articulation of the purpose of the Army, and the focus is clearly evangelistic. The officer, _______________________________________________________________________________________________________ developments in this theological trajectory, see the papers collected from a symposium convened at Catherine Booth Bible College, Winnipeg, in the mid 1980s, to consider “The Theology of Social Services.” John D. Waldron, ed., Creed and Deed: Toward a Christian Theology of Social Services in the Salvation Army (Toronto: The Salvation Army, 1986). However, this tension, as interesting as it is from a historical and theological perspective, is not as pertinent to my argument as the movement-church tension. 81 “What is The Salvation Army?,” in The Salvation Army Year Book, 1939 (London: Salvationist Publishing and Supplies, 1939), 35. 82 Bramwell Booth and William Booth, Orders and Regulations for Officers of The Salvation Army (London: The Salvation Army 1925) 1. 83 It appears, for example, in the 1974 Orders and Regulations for Officers with the word “Organisation” changed to “Movement” and gender language updated. Orders and Regulations for Officers of The Salvation Army (London: The Salvation Army, 1974), II:1. Cf. Miriam Richards, Army Beliefs and Characteristics: A Teaching Directory for Young People’s Sergeant-Majors and class teachers, vol. 1 (London: The Salvation Army, 1968), 16.), and Chosen to be a Soldier: Orders and Regulations for Soldiers of The Salvation Army (London: The Salvation Army, 1977), 1. [ Page ] 275 therefore, “needs to possess the Soldier spirit,” embracing “the purpose of the Army - the Salvation of souls - as the end of his existence.”84 The Orders and Regulation for Corps Officers, issued in the same year, indicate a similar focus, in that the Corps Officer’s purpose is identified as being to “bring about the Salvation of the unconverted in the district to which he is sent” and “lead and train the local Salvationists to co-operate in thus fulfilling The Army’s supreme purpose.”85 Later revisions of these Orders and Regulations retained these statements of purpose, emphasizing the world-wide evangelistic scope of the Salvationist vocation, only altering the wording in minor ways. While the focus on “the neglected” is not as clear as it might have been, it is still present in versions of these Orders and Regulations into the 1970s.86 If there was a significant change in the 1970s, it can be seen in the way that the officer’s pastoral duties were given increasing emphasis. Thus, in a section entitled “The care of the flock” the Orders indicate that care of members is of “one of the principal aims of an officer’s work” and demands equal attention with evangelism.87 The officer, then, is seen as having a two-fold role as both evangelist and pastor. While many of the earlier statements regarding the officers’ responsibilities for converting all non-churchgoing people in their district are retained,88 the space devoted to outlining evangelistic duties is far outweighed by the amount of space given to pastoral duties.89 Resources developed for soldiers (lay members) paint a similar picture. Bramwell ___________________________________ 84 Booth and Booth, Orders and Regulations for Officers (1925), 62. In the 1946 version, the “Soldier spirit” was changed to “the spirit of The Salvation Army,” simplified to “the Army spirit” in in the 1974 edition. See Orders and Regulations for Officers of The Salvation Army (London: The Salvation Army, 1946), 61; Orders and Regulations for Officers (1974) I:7 85 Bramwell Booth and William Booth, Orders and Regulations for Corps Officers of The Salvation Army (London: The Salvation Army, 1925), 1. A “corps officer” is the leader of a local Salvation Army unit - the equivalent of a congregation in another tradition. 86 See, for example, Orders and Regulations for Officers (1974), II: 130. 87 Ibid I:38 Visitation and teaching are also indicated as part of the duties of the officer Ibid 35-37; 44-46 88 Orders and Regulations for Corps Officers of The Salvation Army (London: The Salvation Army 1976) 1 5 11 89 The section on “The unsaved” is 5 pages long, whereas the following section on “The Salvationists of the corps” is 24 pages. See Ibid., 11-15; 16-39. [ Page ] 276 Booth’s 1927 revision of the Orders and Regulations for Soldiers, while mentioning the founder’s original motivation was compassion for “those uncared for by any religious agency,” identifies “the object of the Army” as being “to induce all men to submit to God...”90 The Manual of Salvationism, originally written in 1968 and revised in the 1980s for use in membership courses, also promotes the universal scope of the Salvationist mission to “every sinning soul.”91 The 1977 Orders and Regulations for Soldiers, entitled Chosen to be a Soldier, begins by defining the movement using an updated version of the definition noted above in the 1925 Orders and Regulations for Officers, 92 and emphasizes that the soldier’s membership covenant includes an affirmation of “dedication to personal work for the salvation of the whole world” as is appropriate to the central focus of the movement as a whole.93 As with the Orders and Regulations for officers, the more specific focus on the neglected remains a less prominent theme of this handbook, in spite of the fact that it is not included in the definition of the movement.94 While Chosen to be a Soldier acknowledges that “The Salvation Army has increasingly come to be the Church of its own people and of large sections of the people,”95 and acknowledges that many of its multi-generational members have become members of the middle __________________________________ 90 Bramwell Booth and William Booth, Orders and Regulations for Soldiers of The Salvation Army (London: International Headquarters of the Salvation Army, 1927), 106. Reprinted almost word-for-word the 1950 edition, p. 76. 91 Milton S. Agnew Manual of Salvationism Revised Ed. (Toronto: The Salvation Army 1985) 62. 92 Chosen to be a Soldier 1. 93 Ibid. 76. 94 Thus, for example, in the long standing tradition of Salvationism, soldiers should “never interfere with the Christian work done by other bodies,” and “ever remember that God’s main purpose for the Army is the winning of sinners who are away from God and out of touch with the churches.” Ibid., 67. 95 Ibid. Chosen to be a Soldier (1977) was written just shortly after the first use of “church” as an official Salvationist self-description, which is found in a 1976 article by General Clarence Wiseman, to be discussed below. Yet, the same section of Chosen to be a Soldier continues to argue that the Salvation Army has not regarded itself as a church for the sake of avoiding divisiveness: “Unlike many Christian bodies, The Salvation Army has right from the beginning felt it necessary to emphasize the unity of the Church of Christ and to avoid anything that might encourage further division within Christianity. Instead of proclaiming itself as a church it has throughout its history stressed its wish to remain ‘an integral part of that universal fellowship of Christian believers known as the Church of which Christ is the Head’” (quoting from the 1974 Orders and Regulations for Officers, v). Ibid., 66-67. [ Page ] 277 class, it points to the “special glory” of the movement as being found in its evangelization of the neglected.96 Salvation Army soldiers are therefore expected to be sensitive to the tensions inherent in their movement-church and seek to preserve the particularity of their charism, even as they assume a more “church-like” status. THE SALVATION ARMY AND THE WORLD COUNCIL OF CHURCHES One of the ways in which Salvationists were pushed to reflect upon their ecclesial status was through ecumenical involvement, specifically in the World Council of Churches, of which The Salvation Army was a founding member. Before the first Assembly at Amsterdam in 1948, General Albert Orsborn engaged in consultation as to whether or not the Army should be involved in the life of the Council. Though Orsborn declared that he did not want to impose his views on his advisors, he circulated a memorandum which concluded, “I do not wish my period of leadership to be associated with the gravitation of The Salvation Army nearer to church life in faith and order.” The advisory council to the General, however, responded in their report back to the General that they saw no impediment to involvement, so Orsborn went along with the consensus. Orsborn went along with the consensus, though he continued to be resistant to the idea.97 Orsborn insisted that the Army was not a church, and this conviction seems to have been part of the reason he was concerned about WCC involvement.98 He had occasion to offer some ________________________________ 96 Chosen to be a Soldier, 91-92. 97 Arnold Brown, The Gate and the Light: Recollections of Another Pilgrim (Toronto: Bookwright Publications, 1984), 232. The official denominational history passes over these discussions, mentioning briefly the first Assembly, and noting that Faith and Order chairperson Douglas Horton expressed support for the non-sacramental position of the Quakers and Salvationists. Coutts, The Weapons of Goodwill, 36. 98 Though interestingly, writing in his retirement in 1984, Brown acknowledged no hindrance at all in this regard. He comments on the requirements for membership: “As defined by its constitution the World Council “is a fellowship of churches which confesses the Lord Jesus Christ as Saviour according to the Scriptures and therefore seek to fulfil together their common calling to the glory of the one God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.” To this theological basis for admission The Salvation Army could commit itself unreservedly...” Brown, The Gate and the Light, 232. [ Page ] 278 further reflections on the relationship between the movement and the WCC in an article written for The Officer magazine in 1954, just prior to his retirement. The article as a whole struck a defensive tone, beginning with a defense of William Booth’s decision to keep the Army autonomous.99 After noting that “...we are almost universally recognized as a religious denomination by governments,” he asserted, That is as far as we wish to go in being known as a church. We are, and wish to remain, a Movement for the revival or religion, a permanent mission to the unconverted, one of the world’s great missionary societies; but not an establishment, not a sect, not a church, except that we are a part of the body of Christ called “The Church Militant” and we shall be there, by His grace, with “The Church Triumphant.”100 Orsborn was thus continuing in the line of argument established in the movement’s early years: The Salvation Army is an independent mission, and a part of the universal church, but is not, itself, a church in the sense of a denomination. As for Salvationist involvement in the Council, he continued to posture the Army defensively against perceived threats of ecumenical involvement.101 The Salvation Army ought not to seek “closer identification with the churches” he urged, because its autonomy that had been its strength.102 He closed his article with list of areas where the Army was not willing to compromise in its involvement with the Council.103 The concerns were evidently still significant seven years later, when General Wilfred Kitching wrote a similar article in The Officer explaining the movement’s relationship to the _________________________________ 99 “How wise he was! Nothing has occurred which would justify us in revising the Founder’s decision.” Albert Orsborn, “The Army and the World Council of Churches,” in The Salvation Army and the Churches, ed. John D. Waldron (New York: The Salvation Army 1978) 88. 100 Ibid., 88-89. 101 “We are there to listen, and perhaps to learn. But we are not prepared to change or to modify our own particular and characteristic principles and methods.” Ibid., 89. 102 “Has not our strength lain in our separateness?” Ibid., 90. 103 “We do not favour organic unity with the churches...We can accept no discussion and no challenge to our position on the sacraments...We cannot allow the effective ordination (commission) of our officers, including women, to be challenged...We are not prepared to change our doctrine...”The list goes on to include several more concerns. Ibid., 92-94. The extent to which Orsborn went in outlining the limits of Salvationist participation in the ecumenical movement suggests that he was not alone in his concerns regarding where it might lead The Salvation Army. [ Page ] 279 Council. Kitching noted that the Council “has always understood and valued the special contribution the Army has to make to the advance of the Kingdom” and stressed that they shared a bond with other members, forged by their common confession of Christ and their evangelical mission to the entire world.104 Then he continued the article in the form of a statement which answered common objections to ecumenical involvement. He noted that “William and Catherine Booth and their helpers did not set out to create another church but to prosecute a vigorous mission to the churchless,”105 and that they avoided controversy with other churches from the beginning. 106 In answer to a question as to whether the Army ought to be involved with the WCC at all, Kitching wrote: The “basis” of the association is that all its members accept the Lordship of Jesus Christ, and whatever superficial differences there may be, those who are members of the Kingdom of Christ are fellow citizens of ours. Who are they to deny that we are a real and integral part of the one Church of Christ on earth? Who are we to say that they are not? On their part the initiators of the World Council of Churches have accepted the Army as a church from the beginning without departing in any way from their own principles or attempting in any way to obscure the Army’s non-sacramental position, its order of ministry including its use of women for all the duties and responsibilities open to men, or any other differences.107 Although Kitching was not ready to positively claim that The Salvation Army was “a church,” he nevertheless was happy to report that the WCC member churches “accepted the Army as a church from the beginning.” This continues the pattern set by Booth in the early days, of eschewing ecclesial status, while at the same time welcoming recognition from other churches and resisting any suggestion of ecclesial inferiority. Kitching was also clear, like Osborn, that the Army’s involvement would not lead to organic union, in spite of the fact that this was the ____________________________________ 104 Wilfred Kitching, “The Army and the World Council of Churches,” in The Salvation Army and the Churches, ed. John D. Waldron (New York: The Salvation Army, 1978), 96. 105 Ibid., 97-98. 106 “From the start the Army made a point of not criticising other Christians even in refutation of slanders which might have been made against it.” Ibid., 100. 107 Ibid., 107. [ Page ] 280 dominant thrust of WCC thinking about unity at this time.108 One of his successors, General Clarence Wiseman, continued to stress this point in 1970 as he addressed the issue of WCC involvement, and emphatically claimed: “Nowhere in the Army world is the Army in negotiation with any other church body with union in mind; such negotiations would require the consent of the General, and there is no likelihood of such an event happening in the foreseeable future.”109 On the positive side, Wiseman offered a rationale for ecumenical involvement as incumbent upon all believers, stating, “We have no right to separate from those who differ doctrinally, but who truly own Jesus Christ as Lord and Saviour. Nor have we any right to deny them fellowship.”110 Yet he insisted that WCC involvement could not come at the expense of the Army’s unique identity. It was Wiseman who would be the first General to claim that The Salvation Army was “a church.” In an article written on the subject “Are we a Church?” in a 1976 article in The Officer, Wiseman claimed that the Army is a mission, movement, religious order, Army, and church: It appears, in light of all I have said, that we are a permanent mission to the unconverted and a caring social service movement; in some places we assume the features of a religious order. These various aspects exist within the God-given shape of an Army, the world-wide Army of Salvation!...I believe also the Army can be truthfully described as a “church” in the more circumscribed, denominational sense of the word.111 He went on further to state clearly that the Army is “both a church and a part of the universal Church.”112 Salvationists would eventually withdraw from full membership in the World Council of ___________________________________ 108 “The World Council is concerned that the essential unity that exists should become apparent to all...All this has to do with unity and not union. The Council cannot and must not negotiate union between the churches.” Ibid., 111. 109 He also noted that -“The constitution of the W.C.C. prevents that body from trying to compel any member into union with another member.” Clarence D. Wiseman, “The Salvation Army and the World Council of Churches,” in The Salvation Army and the Churches ed John D Waldron (New York: The Salvation Army 1970) 115 110 Ibid. 116. 111 Wiseman, “Are We a Church?,” 5. Italics in original. 112 Ibid., 8. [ Page ] 281 Churches, and seek “fraternal status,” though the flashpoint issue was political, rather than ecclesiological.113 However, ecumenical involvement had already pushed Salvationists towards deeper ecclesiological reflection, and towards self-identification as “a church.” While movement-church tensions had been present from the very beginning of the Army’s history, these tensions would only increase as Salvationists officially embraced the idea that they were a church in the denominational sense. They were still attempting to focus on the specific charism of evangelism among the neglected, but that central task was now one among a myriad of others, as the movement took on all the tasks of a church. CLERICALIZATION AND THE ORDINATION OF SALVATION ARMY OFFICERS Another issue which is indicative of the increasing shift towards a “churchly” identity in The Salvation Army is the introduction of ordination in 1978. For most of the movement’s history, Officers were “commissioned” but no mention was made of ordination. This was motivated in part by a desire to see all of the members of the movement participating in its evangelistic mission. Booth was often warning against “the old clergy laity idea creeping in among us,” which, he believed, suggested “a minister doing all the fighting and feeding, while ________________________________________ 113 In the later 1970s, Salvationists started to become increasingly uncomfortable with what they perceived to be the increasing politicization of the World Council of Churches. Eventually, in 1978, a flashpoint issue arose concerning the Rhodesian Patriotic Front, which caused the Salvationists to suspend their membership and seek a dialogue with WCC leadership about their continuing involvement. The details of the grant and the Army’s concerns regarding the Patriotic Front are given in Brown, The Gate and the Light, 229-231. Brown, who was General at the time, notes, that this was simply one issue among many, and that there was “a rift” between the Army and the Council “that had widened with the passing years, and particularly during the Seventies.” Ibid., 231. Salvationist members of the WCC felt that their concerns about politicization had been going unnoticed for some time, and they believed this reflected a general trend toward “politically-inclined action” at the expense of “that evangelical thrust which the Army and other church bodies had longed for as a result of the closer inter-involvement of the denominations.” Ibid., 233. After two years of consultation within the Army, and discussions with the WCC, Brown requested that the Army’s status in the WCC be altered from full membership to “fraternal status,” which meant they would be non-voting observers. In his letter to WCC General Secretary Philip Potter, written in July of 1981, Brown wrote that the international nature of the Army meant that they were required to remain “apolitical.” Ibid., 239. Since that time the Salvation Army has retained its “fraternal” status at the Council. [ Page ] 282 his congregation does all the looking on and swallowing. We are an Army. Every soldier is expected to fight.”114 That is not to say that Salvationists did not view their “commissioning” as an equivalent to ordination. In fact, they viewed all Salvationists as having an “ordination” by virtue of their evangelistic mission.115 As I showed in chapter III.3, from its early days the movement as a whole tended to shun official ecclesiastical status, while at the same time claiming equality with the churches, and this was true of officership as well. As Harold Hill notes, “On the one hand the Army was reluctant to describe itself as a church or to regard its officers as clergy, while on the other it was willing to do both of these when they might appear to be to its practical advantage or made its members feel better about themselves.”116 We can see these two emphases coming out in the subsequent history of the movement, with the latter tendency eventually culminating in the introduction of the terminology of ordination into the official commissioning ceremony. Because the movement as a whole had taken on the functions of a church for its members, it was inevitable that Salvation Army officers would, over time, begin to take on a function similar to that of clergy in churches. Harold Hill has analyzed the roles that officers played in the early Salvationist movement by considering how they related to four traditional functions of ordained clergy: administration of sacraments, pastoring of the people, preaching, and church government.117 He concludes that in the early decades of the movement, officers held exclusive prerogative only in the area of church government, with pastoral responsibilities _____________________________________ 114 The Officer (3 October 1896): 176, cited in Hill, Leadership in the Salvation Army, 69. 115 “You cannot say you are not ordained. You were ordained when you signed Articles of War, under the blessed Flag. If not, I ordain every man, woman and child here present that has received the new life. I ordain you now...I tell you what your true business in the world is, and in the name of the living God I authorise you to go and do it. Go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature!” The War Cry (22 January 1898): 9, cited in Ibid., 69- 70 Hills comments: “Booth was clear that if any were ordained all were ordained ” Ibid 70 116 Hill Leadership in the Salvation Army 127. 117 Ibid., 50-65. [ Page ] 283 and preaching shared among the whole membership, and officers often officiating at Salvationist rites - but not exclusively. Thus, “Officers were not yet clergy in any generally recognised sense at this time, any more than the Army itself was regarded as a church. They were not ordained even in free-church terms, much less in any formally recognisable apostolic succession.”118 However, as Hill has demonstrated at length, the hierarchical structure of The Salvation Army served to “expedite the process of clericalisation,”119 and gradually the role of a Salvation Army officer was transformed from that of an itinerant evangelist to that of a settled pastor, a transition which reflects an overall shift towards conventional denominational status. 120 For a long time, however, Salvationist leadership continued to resist this trend and declare that, in principle, Salvation Army officers were not clergy. Bramwell Booth held the line on the founder’s approach to the matter of ordination, resisting the idea that officers were ordained, and yet insisting that they were on equal footing with ordained ministers in the churches. Writing near the end of his career, he appealed to the “diversities of gifts” from the Spirit as evidence that officers, like clergy, were “assured of His guidance, confirmed by His Word, and commissioned by the Holy Ghost to represent Him to the whole world.”121 As the movement consolidated in the twentieth century, however, officers came to take on increasingly clerical roles. Bramwell’s successor, Edward J. Higgins, writing to officers in the early 1930s, was concerned that they were beginning to think they were “intended to be like parsons,” and ____________________________ 118 Ibid. 64. 119 Ibid. 77. 120 “The gradual assimilation of evangelist into pastor in the role of the individual Salvation Army officer has paralleled the gradual metamorphosis of the para-church sect into denominational church. That trend has been accompanied by the gradual loss of the individual and corporate sense of responsibility of the ordinary members or soldiers to exercise the pastoral role.” Ibid. 61. 121 Booth, Echoes and Memories, 67-68. [ Page ] 284 that the soldiery was becoming too passive.122 Although little discussion of the theology of ministry can be found in Salvation Army publications in the first half of the twentieth century, formal and informal ecumenical interactions caused Salvationists to reflect further on their approach in the middle of the century, and Salvationists to emphasize the equality of their practice of “commissioning” with “ordination” in other traditions.123 In the 1954 article quoted above regarding the WCC, one of Albert Orsborn’s concerns about WCC involvement concerned potential suggestions that the Army’s officers were inferior to clergy in other ecclesial bodies. In this context he spoke of “the effective ordination (commission) of our officers, including women,” and insisted, “We should never agree to their re-ordination at the hands of anyone.”124 Four years later, Frederick Coutts (not yet General) wrote an article reflecting on the 100th anniversary of William Booth’s ordination in the Methodist New Connexion, and insisted that Booth’s “call,” which came directly from God, “was his divine ordination long before he stood before a crowded chapel in Hull and testified to the faith that was in him.”125 Continuing in this trend, a 1968 Canadian Commissioning program booklet included an explanation of how the Salvation Army officer was “ordained a minister of the saving grace of God, a prophet and a priest, a pastor and a teachers, a ____________________________________ 122 Edward J. Higgins, Stewards of God: A Series of Papers specially compiled for the Help and Guidance of the Corps Officers of The Salvation Army (London: Salvationist Publishing and Supplies, n.d.), 16. Although no date is supplied, Higgins was General from 1929-1934, and this book was published during his tenure in office. 123 Harold Hill has surveyed Salvationist literature on this topic extensively, and found that there was almost nothing written about the theology of ministry in the 40 years leading up to 1960. He believes this suggests that “Salvationists did not spend much effort or time in thinking further about the theological implications of decisions made about these matters,” and that the principles espoused by the founders were still taken for granted, and largely unexamined.” Hill, Leadership in the Salvation Army, 108. 124 Orsborn, “The Army and the World Council of Churches,” 93. Italics in original. 125 Frederick Coutts, “Ordained by God,” in Harvest of the Years: An anthology of “Salvation Army Year Book” articles, ed. Reginald Woods (London: Salvationist Publishing and Supplies, 1960), 12. In the same article, Coutts quotes F. J. A. Hort in support of the idea that apostolic succession is similarly grounded in a direct call of God, apart from any rite of ordination, and then asserts, “It therefore follows that officership in The Salvation Army is not to be regarded as of inferior grade in the ministries of God.” Ibid., 11. The quote from Hort reads: “The true apostolic succession’, wrote Hort, ‘means nothing more or less than the continual call of man to service by Christ Himself. No ceremony avails to affect it.’” [ Page ] 285 servant, as much as any minister of any denomination,” even though the word “ordained” was not used in the ceremony at that time.126 While concerns about a clergy-laity divide were occasionally raised,127 it was concerns about equality with other ministers that led General Arnold Brown to change the rubric for commissioning of officers in 1978 to read as follows: “In accepting these pledges which you have made, I commission you as an officer of The Salvation Army and ordain you as a minister of Christ and His gospel.” Brown explained the change by noting in his autobiography, Some, I felt, did not understand that the granting of a commission not only admitted the recipient to officership, but also conveyed all that is commonly drawn from the term, “ordination,” only the ceremonial form of conferment being different. As General I had full support in revising the wording of the commissioning so that the thought of “ordination” was more explicit. 128 He had also written to the secretary of his Advisory Council of his “anxiety to secure in the minds of the cadets...and in the minds of those who attend...that the ceremony is in every way, and equals, an ordination.”129 __________________________________ 126 Cited in Servants Together: Salvationist Perspectives on Ministry (London: The Salvation Army, 2002), 78; Hill, Leadership in the Salvation Army, 161. Both sources identify Earl Robinson as the author. 127 For example, retired General Wilfred Kitching wrote in 1963: “The usual distinction between officers and soldiers is obviously useful at certain levels, but the nomenclature can be misleading, and at times there may be danger in the distinction. There is in God’s sight no different order of believers, even though there are different callings.” Wilfred Kitching, Soldier of Salvation (London: Salvationist Publishing and Supplies, 1963), cited in Hill, Leadership in the Salvation Army 110. 128 As reported in Brown, The Gate and the Light, 22. 129 Letter of February 28, 1978, cited in Hill, Leadership in the Salvation Army, 161. Hill also cites from Brown’s article in the October 1978 edition of the Officer magazine, which stresses the same line of thinking: “...in the commissioning of an officer, he - and she! - is in every sense of the word “ordained” to the ministry of Christ in the world. (The wording of the commissioning ceremony has just been extended to say so!)” Ibid., 162. Hill reports that the change was reviewed more than once in the 1980s and 1990s, but the decision was reaffirmed and the wording retained. However, the ceremony was eventually reworded in 2002 by General John Gowans, so that the officiant now says, “Accepting your promises and recognising that God has called, ordained and empowered you to be a minister of Christ and of his gospel, I commission you an officer of The Salvation Army.” Ibid., 163-165. The revised wording therefore reflects earlier Salvation Army thinking regarding “ordination” as received directly from God, and was instituted in part because of disquiet amongst the rank and file of Salvationists in the period since 1978 over the precise meaning of the term and its appropriateness in a Salvation Army context. On this subject, see Hill’s summary of the debate between those who viewed officership in purely “functional” terms, and those who were concerned with the “status” of officership, and how these issues related to the debate concerning ordination. Ibid., 130-157. [ Page ] 286 The move towards “ordination” is thus one further example of the change in Salvationist ecclesial identity. Whereas early Salvationists had adamantly denied that they were “a church,” and instead claimed to be a special ecclesial body raised up by God for a specific purpose, Salvationists by the late 20th century were intent on identifying themselves more and more as a church, and embracing the practice of ordination along with it. However, as I have been arguing, a church is an ecclesial body that is characterized by a plurality of charisms, rather than one particular charism. Thus, from the perspective of charisms, The Salvation Army is marked by a profound ambiguity, that will inevitably result in tensions in the movement’s corporate life as it attempts to focus on its original charism while also cultivating the plurality of charisms that are necessary for existence as a church. That specific Salvationist charism has not been lost, but the movement’s capacity as a means of grace has been diverted to the cultivation of a variety of charisms, rather than its original charism. Phil Needham is one among many recent Salvationist voices that has acknowledged this loss of focus: The Army came into being because - allowing for some glorious exceptions - by and large, the churches were not carrying out their mission to the poor and dispossessed. If one of the signs that the Kingdom had come in Jesus the Christ was that the poor had the gospel preached to them (Matthew 11:5), the Victorian churches had forgotten. The Army reminded them. It stands today as a reminder. Only now it needs to remind itself more than anyone else.130 EXCURSUS: NON-SACRAMENTALISM AS A FALSE CHARISM? In chapter III.3 I discussed some of the circumstances surrounding William Booth’s 1883 decision to cease the observation of sacraments in Salvation Army meetings, and noted the __________________________________ 130 Phil Needham, Community in Mission: A Salvationist Ecclesiology (London: International Headquarters of the Salvation Army, 1987), 3. Other examples of similar self-assessments from Salvationists can be found in Geoff Ryan, Sowing Dragons: Essays in Neo-Salvationism (Toronto: The Salvation Army, 2001), 55-64; Stephen Court, “Is Every Soldier a Disciple?,” in Discipleship: Vision and Mission, ed. Edward Read (Toronto: The Salvation Army, 1995), 47-55. [ Page ] 287 somewhat tentative way in which the decision was announced.131 In spite of his seemingly flexible position on sacramental observance, the decision was never reconsidered in any formal way. At the same time, as I noted in the last chapter, Salvationists soon created their own “rites” which took on the function of sacraments in their corporate life. At times the status of these ceremonies as “replacement sacraments” was quite explicitly noted.132 While in the earliest days, some of these ceremonies were not exclusively performed by Salvation Army officers, over time the officers came to be the ones who were the focal point of such ceremonial life, again suggesting a growing similarity with ordained clergy in churches.133 As with the issue of ordination, there does not seem to have been much discussion of sacramental theology among Salvationists in the early part of the twentieth century.134 Bramwell Booth offered a mild apologetic for the Army’s stance in his memoirs, but from the tone of his writing, he does not seem to have been overly concerned about the issue.135 His general feeling __________________________________ 131 As noted above, when announcing the cessation of sacramental observance, Booth had written, “is it not wise for us to postpone any settlement of the question, to leave it over to some future day, when we shall have more light, and see more clearly our way before us?”Booth “The General’s New Year Address to Officers ” 192. 132 For example, Howard Hill has noted that a 1900 catechism-like resource for children included the following question and answer: “What are the FIVE ORDINANCES of the Army? The Army’s Five Ordinances are: - The Dedication of Children to God and the Army; The Mercy Seat; Enrolment under the Army Flag; Commissioning of Officers; Marriage according to Army rules” (The “mercy seat” is a Salvation Army term for the “penitent form,” a bench or set of chairs at the front of the meeting hall where people are invited to pray during the altar call). The Salvation Army Directory, No II (London: The Salvation Army, 1900), 62, cited in Hill, Leadership in the Salvation Army, 59. As Hill notes, “The very term “ordinances” implies sacramental usage.” 133 Ibid., 59-60. 134 This was, in part, because the general Salvationist policy of avoiding controversy was eventually brought to bear on this discussion in an explicit way. A 1906 Year Book article noted, “Working alike in Protestant, Catholic and heathen countries, the Army could not possible take this or that side in these matters, but desires to avoid all controversies or scandals tending to obscure the view of its one great object, the salvation of all, no matter how brought out, who are living in sin and darkness.” Quoted in Allen Satterlee, Turning Points: How The Salvation Army Found a Different Path (Alexandria VA: Crest Books 2004) 50-51. 135 He recalls some significant exchanges he had with Frederic W. Farrar, then a Canon of Westminster, on the subject, but claims that “...Farrar was the only man who made any considered effort to bring us back to a practice we had long discarded.” Bramwell was unconvinced by Farrar’s arguments from Scripture and the history of the primitive church, and claimed Farrar “could not claim that the first Christian communities...attached any importance to the matter at all, or that they had, so far we know, even so much as given a name to what have since come to be called ‘The Sacraments’!” He also suggested that Scripture contained no clear teaching on the meaning of sacraments. “The absence - total and complete - of any recognized doctrine with regard to them, in those early days, is equally difficult to explain if they really are so important.” He also suggested that Christ’s command [ Page ] 288 with regard to the Lord’s Supper was that it was only advantageous in relation to the faith of the recipient, and therefore was simply one means among others which might be employed for the edification and strengthening of Christian life.136 Bramwell closed his reflections on sacraments by granting that Catholics were consistent in insisting on the necessity of sacraments for salvation and therefore attaching great importance to them, but some Protestants, he felt were inconsistent in this regard: “...I have never been able to reconcile the view that there is nothing in them which is essential to saving faith, and that salvation is by faith, with the emphasis which is laid upon them both in the Lutheran and Anglican Churches.”137 As the movement moved towards the middle of the 20th century, however, this somewhat mild apologetic was sharpened through increasing ecumenical involvement, which often put Salvationists in a more defensive posture with regard to sacramental theology.138 Harry Dean wrote a 1960 Year Book article which focused largely on New Testament matters, suggesting that evidence for sacramental observance in the primitive church is “not as conclusive as is commonly imagined.”139 His positive claim is that the “experience of encounter and communion _________________________________________________________________________________________________________ regarding foot-washing in John 13 was at least as clear if not clearer than the command to baptize, and yet “no one now dreams of regarding as a ‘Sacrament’ or as binding on anyone.” Booth, Echoes and Memories, 198-199. Bramwell also claims that B. F. Westcott and other church leaders “had said that they approved of the stand we took in refusing the Supper.” Ibid., 197. 136 Booth, Echoes and Memories, 194-195. He made similar comments in the context of his discussions of the negotiations with the Church of England. Ibid., 65. This continues the utilitarian understanding of the Church that was identified in chapter III.3 as typical of many Protestant evangelicals at this time. 137 Booth, Echoes and Memories, 200. 138 I do not include in this category the extract from Minnie Carpenter’s biography of William Booth, which was published as a separate booklet in 1945 under the title, Salvationists and the Sacraments: A Doctrinal Statement (London: Salvationist Publishing and Supplies, 1945). Carpenter’s account was very brief at only four pages in small paperback format, and continued the “mild apologetic” approach of earlier authors. Cf. Minnie L. Carpenter, William Booth, Founder of The Salvation Army (London: Epworth Press, 1942), 77-80. 139 Dean suggests that Christ gave his disciples “no hard and fast instructions” on these matters, notes that “the breaking of bread” in Acts is not necessarily indicative of sacramental observance, claims the divisions in Corinth over the Lord’s Supper were precipitated by the ritualization of the practice, and that the term “sacrament” finds its root in the mystery religions of the first century. Harry Dean, “The Founders and the Sacraments,” in Another Harvest of the Years: An anthology of “Salvation Army Year Book” articles (1957-1975) (London: Salvationist Publishing and Supplies, 1975), 38-39. [ Page ] 289 with God makes superfluous all ceremonial.”140 More significantly, Dean introduced a new line of argument in a pamphlet entitled The Sacraments: he Salvationist’s Viewpoint, published that same year. He suggested that The Salvation Army was part of “the prophetic tradition,” and used this claim as a means of supporting the continued non-observance of sacraments by Salvationists. If it is said that the Salvationist is reacting against a perversion of ritualism, his reaction enshrines a necessary truth always in danger of being forgotten. There is undoubtedly a place in the universal Christian Church for bodies such as the Society of Friends and The Salvation Army who seek to make the prophetic emphasis rather than the priestly.141 By identifying non-sacramentalism as part of the Army’s “prophetic” identity, Dean was suggesting that the non-observance of sacraments was part of the Salvation Army’s reason for existence - indeed, that this was one of the reasons that the Salvationists were raised up by God. It is this line of argument which, up to the present, has been further developed in an attempt to in-graft the non-observance of the sacraments into the Salvationist charism. 1965 saw the publication of a much more extensive and sustained defense in William Metcalf’s The Salvationist and the Sacraments. Metcalf began by attempting to refute scriptural evidence that sacramental observance was commanded by Christ, and did so in more detailed way than had been done in earlier attempts.142 More significant, however, was the way in which Metcalf elaborated in greater detail upon Dean’s conception of Salvationist non-observance as a “prophetic witness” to the rest of the Church. Metcalf introduces this line of argument by _________________________________ 140 Ibid. 39. 141 he Sacraments: he Salvationist’s Viewpoint (London: Salvationist Publishing and Supplies, 1960), 75. Dean is identified as the author in Hill, Leadership in the Salvation Army, 119. 142 See William Metcalf, The Salvationist and the Sacraments (London: Challenge Books, 1965), 10-17. His arguments are by no means extensive, but they do represent a much more significant engagement with the scriptural data than was previously seen. [ Page ] 290 discussing the prophetic tradition in scripture as a critique of “ceremonial religion,”143 and on this basis claims, “When people today speak of the ‘prophetic tradition’ they mean that part of God’s Church which reminds the rest of the Church that God can be truly worshipped only in spirit and in truth.”144 After arguing that the New Testament supports “prophetic religion,”145 Metcalf outlines two ways that the prophetic tradition has been kept alive in the Church: first, by those who “still use the sacraments but will try to use them only in the right way,” and secondly, by those who have “believed that God also works outside the sacraments or any other material sign.” This second group, in which he places The Salvation Army, has a “duty in the Church...to witness to this fact. God has used them to reveal this part of the truth about Himself.”146 Claiming that there have always been Christians who were part of this second type of prophetic witness,147 he then appeals to the example of the Quakers as fellow non-observers of the sacraments who “had a real experience of Christ,” in order to further his point that “when The Salvation Army decided not to use the sacraments it was not making a new decision. It was not taking itself out of God’s Church...It was simply adding to a witness which has never been ______________________________________ 143 While claiming that “...the prophets were not concerned with destroying all ceremony,” Metcalf argues, “They were concerned with destroying the idea that ‘ceremonial religion’ is the only true way to God,” and continues: “When any church says that the sacraments are necessary to anyone who wants to share the life of God, it is necessary for the prophets to speak up.” Ibid. 31. 144 Ibid., 27. 145 Metcalf claims “the Gospels clearly show us that Jesus belonged to this prophetic tradition,” and that “Paul often had to write to the young churches to explain that the new way of living does not depend on ceremonies.” After quoting several Pauline texts dealing with circumcision, he writes, “If we take out the word ‘circumcision’ and put in the word ‘baptism’ in these verses, we have the prophetic message for today. The new life in Christ can never be offered to men simply as the result of taking part in a ceremony.” Finally, drawing on the letter to the Hebrews, where the earthly Tabernacle and sacrifices of ancient Israel are described as “copies of heavenly things,” he transposes this argument to the sacraments: “There have always been enough people in the Church itself to remind the Church that its sacraments are only ‘copies of heavenly things.’” Ibid., 28-36. 146 Ibid. 39. 147 “The Army is not the only witness to this truth...Ever since the Church began to rebuild the pattern of ceremony and custom which the New Testament set aside, there have been Christians who have refused to accept the Church’s teaching on sacraments. Unfortunately many of these people were not true witnesses. Some had strange ideas. Some of them even refused to accept Jesus Himself.” Ibid. Presumably Metcalf is referring to certain heretical groups in the Church’s history, though it is not clear who he has in mind. [ Page ] 291 completely silent in the Church.”148 Metcalf concludes by grounding all of this in a suggestion that the existence of distinct ecclesial bodies in the Church is necessary for the fullness of God’s truth to be proclaimed.149 This “prophetic witness” argument is a great distance from William Booth’s tentative decision to cease sacramental observance in 1883. Whereas Booth had suggested they revisit the decision in the future, Metcalf is suggesting that the non-observance of the sacraments is part of a prophetic calling, given to Salvationists by God, and therefore it is not to be revisited or reconsidered.150 While such a conception might not be out of place as one way of thinking about the way that different ecclesial charisms function in the Church as a whole, it is the specific claim that Salvationist non-observance is part of the Salvationist charism that is problematic. This “prophetic witness” line of argument was picked up and developed further in some subsequent Salvation Army publications. For my purposes it is not necessary to trace these developments in detail, but I will discuss one further example, which demonstrates the extent to which The Salvation Army sought to ground its non-sacramental witness in a divine vocation. One Faith, One Church was The Salvation Army’s official response to Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry, and was published as a separate book in 1990. After briefly narrating the practical and theological concerns that led to a suspension of sacramental practice, the text then lays claim to a divinely confirmed unique witness within the Church: Gradually, but positively there emerged that conviction, which Salvationists cherish to this day, that the Holy Spirit was confirming this new expression of Christian faith and practice as a part of the Body of Christ, his Church, with a distinctive witness and _____________________________________ 148 Ibid., 40. 149 Ibid.. 40-41. 150 Therefore he further exhorts Salvationists to hold fast to their convictions in spite of the fact that they are a minority voice in the Church. “Sometimes we may think that this is not an important truth, because most Christians do not accept it...But this is not the way to judge truth...A truth is not measured by the number of people who accept it. It is measured by the way it affects those who do accept it. Salvationists need not worry because their witness is small. They should worry when their witness is weak.” Ibid., 41. [ Page ] 292 purpose, which included the non-observance of the traditional sacraments on theological as well as practical grounds.151 The text therefore clarifies that, although William Booth did not believe the non-observance of sacraments to be a feature of Salvationism that was directly inspired by God, the blessing of God upon the movement through subsequent generations has been taken to imply a divine sanction upon the decision, and on this basis it is believed to be part of the Army’s unique vocation. As was done by Metcalf, One Faith, One Church frames the divergence of the Salvationist position from that of other churches as something which “enriches rather than diminishes the universality of the Christian message.”152 The document defines the unity of faith in very narrow terms and sharply distinguishes faith from practice,153 meaning that there is no need for ecumenical convergence on matters of sacramental theology. In fact, the result of Salvationist reflections on BEM is “a confirmed belief in the soundness of [the Salvationist position on the sacraments] in relation to our divine institution as a movement with a particular commission and vocation.”154 This “divine institution” is related to The Salvation Army’s identity as “a permanent mission to the unconverted,” which led the early Salvation Army “to sever itself from the ecclesiastical guy-ropes” of the traditional Church, including the sacraments.155 The unique identity of The Salvation Army, including non-sacramental worship, is clearly being claimed as God-given. The non-ecclesiastical form of The Salvation Army “was __________________________________ 151 One Faith, One Church: The Salvation Army’s response to Baptism, Eucharist, & Ministry (London: The Salvation Army 1990) 4. 152 Ibid. 153 “The unifying force in the Christian Church has always been and is today fidelity to the cardinal doctrines concerning Christ and salvation - the atonement, repentance, justification by faith, adoption into God’s family by regeneration, the infilling of the Spirit - strong biblical doctrines not dependent on any sacramental rite.” Ibid., 8. Also, in response to the request of the WCC for churches to indicate “the extent to which your church can recognize in this text the faith of the Church through the ages,” (Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry, Faith and Order Paper No. 111 (Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1982), x), One Faith, One Church, states: “Reading this question literally we find no difficulty in responding on ‘the faith of the Church’ as distinct from the traditional observances of the churches.” One Faith, One Church, 62. 154 One Faith One Church 9. 155 Ibid., 63. [ Page ] 293 necessitated by the function which The Salvation Army was called to fulfill in the world through the Holy Spirit.”156 Moreover, One Faith, One Church affirms that this calling continues to be valid and necessary.157 As noted above, this line of argument, which lodges The Salvation Army’s non- observance of the sacraments within a divinely-granted unique identity, is a way of attempting to in-graft non-sacramentalism into the Salvationist charism. That is, if not observing sacraments is part of the vocation of the Salvationist, and if charism and vocation are organically linked, such that the charism is implied in the vocation, then a vocation not to observe sacraments would imply a non-sacramental charism of some sort. Could the disagreement between Salvationists and nearly all other Christians concerning sacraments be reduced to a matter of differing charisms / vocations? The implication of this line of thinking is that Salvationists are called to non-observance, but not others. Indeed, Salvationists have been keen to assert that they are not calling the sacramental observance of others into question. Of course, given the theology of charisms that I have been advancing in this project, such a claim is deeply problematic. Charisms are gifts of grace that bring vocational obligations and function interdependently within the spectrum of charisms given to the Church as a whole for the edification of the body of Christ. The observance of sacraments, on the other hand, is a matter of significant theological debate, not a matter of fulfilling a role in the body of Christ. The Salvationist position on the sacraments is based upon theological claims concerning the immediacy of grace and the non- necessity of sacramental observance that would be rejected by other Christian traditions. These truth claims should be addressed as such, but by making non-observance of sacraments an aspect of a divinely-given Salvationist vocation, the prospect for honest discussion and debate of the ______________________________ 156 Ibid. 157 Ibid., 65. [ Page ] 294 matter has been removed. In fact, by in-grafting non-sacramental worship onto the Salvationist charism, Salvationists are claiming divine vindication for their position, for why else would God raise up a non-sacramental people, unless their theological claims concerning the immediacy of grace were true? This remains the case, even granting the Salvationist recognition that sacraments can be helpful to some Christians. Thus, a purported charism of non-observance provides Salvationists with a triumphalistic justification for their theological decisions concerning the sacraments. The danger of such a move is that it could conceivably be used to support any side on a matter of theological dispute, and the theological category of “charism” could be used as a hammer to drive home one’s own doctrinal positions.158 This case demonstrates, therefore, the importance of maintaining the link between charism and vocation as a service which builds up the Church. CONCLUSION The histories of both the Paulist and the Salvationist movements are complex, and I have not been able to definitively discuss the many significant events that took place in the development of these two movements. What I have done is selectively examine some aspects of their respective histories, in an effort to illustrate significant ways in which each movement interpreted its charism in changing circumstances. Each movement faced its own challenges in this regard. The Paulists faced significant scrutiny during the Americanism controversy, which coloured their relations with the European hierarchy for decades, and resulted in a delay in getting approbation for their community at the Vatican. The specifically American focus of their charism was not unreservedly received, and they were forced to compromise on some aspects of ______________________________________ 158 Might Catholics, for example, claim that it was part of their “charism” to insist on the necessity of sacraments for a full experience of the Christian life? [ Page ] 295 their vision for the Paulist community. The decline of the practice of “missions,” originally identified as the key purpose of the community, led to a period of ferment in the community. This was later resolved as Paulists re-thought their charism in a significant way in the middle of the twentieth century, and as the Roman Catholic Church re-cast its ecclesiology and its relationship to other Christian traditions. This meant a shift away from a focus on “converting” Protestants to Catholicism, and towards ecumenism as a means of proclaiming the good news to separated brothers and sisters. Salvationist interpretation of their charism was marked by an increasing emphasis on the Army’s status as a “church.” The movement / church tension can be seen in the Army’s gradual shift towards self-identification as “a church,” after decades of resisting this designation. The growing acceptance of church status by Salvationists is indicative of their recognition of the dual role that the Army had played from its earliest days - as a specialized vocational movement that was also the de facto church home for its members. In its early years, the Army had resisted identification as a church, thus pushing the community more towards is special vocation as a movement - that is, its charism of evangelism among the neglected. However, with the full acceptance of “church” status, the special focus of the movement was bound to be obscured. Since a church is characterized by a plurality of charisms, rather than one particular charism, the Army must aim at the cultivation of a wide variety of charisms in order to function as a church. Thus the focus of the institution as a means of grace for the cultivation of the particular charism of evangelism among the neglected is obscured. [ Page ] 296 CHAPTER IV.1 REVISITING THE CATEGORIES My method in this project has been rooted in a definition of the Church as the visible, historical, elect people of God. That is, the Church as a concrete body of people, enduring through time, and identified by objective marks which bear witness to its election (scripture, sacraments, confession of Christ, etc.).1 With the Church thus defined, ecclesiological reflection becomes an historical discipline which must engage in “thick description” of the Church's concrete historical life. In other words, whatever scriptural and theological concepts are developed as ecclesiologically normative, they must be able to elucidate the Church's concrete historical life (that is, they must not project the Church as something which exists “behind” or “above” the actual empirical people and institutions). If the historically identified people of God is the Church, then the Church’s history, including the history of seemingly obscure movements, has something to tell us about God and his actions in history through his chosen witnesses. I have thus proposed a theology of ecclesial charisms as a way of interpreting the conflicted history of specialized movements in the Church, and this has necessarily involved both systematic theological reflection and historical description. I began with constructive work on the theology of charisms, and the case study section of my project took the form of critical reflection on the concrete life of the Church in history as a necessary aspect of the theological task. I proposed a theology of charisms from a systematic perspective (part II), and I then applied this constructive work to concrete historical examples as a test of the theoretical work’s validity, and in the hopes of deepening the understanding of charism through an examination of their place in the Church’s historical life. The theology of ecclesial charisms lead necessarily to the question of the origin of each movement, and the particular way that the founders of each _____________________________________ 1 As noted above, this approach is based upon the proposal in Lindbeck, “The Church.” [ Page ] 297 community discerned the Spirit to be at work, as well as the ways that they conceived of their movements in relation to the Church, and the way that the community has interpreted its charism in changing historical circumstances. Having completed the case studies, I will now return to the major themes of my argument in part II of this essay, briefly re-stating my constructive proposal, and discussing the ways in which the case studies have further illuminated these respective aspects of the theology of ecclesial charisms. BIBLICAL THEOLOGY OF CHARISMS: PNEUMATIC FULLNESS, TRIUMPHALISM, AND OVERSIGHT I began by defining charisms as the concrete result of the bestowal of grace upon human persons. Scripturally the term can refer to a gift of grace in any sense, or more specifically to the diverse vocational gifts given to persons in the church, and it is this latter sense which I have been discussing in proposing a theology of ecclesial charisms. In Pauline literature, charisms are free gifts of grace which bring with them a vocational obligation. They are given to persons, but can also be said to be gifts for the whole church, in that they are given for the upbuilding of the church and function in an interdependent manner for the benefit of the whole community. These vocationally-directed gifts are always subject to oversight and discernment. There are few clear scriptural examples of “group charisms” in the sense of diverse gifts which differentiate between groups within the people of God, those examples which can be seen (such as the distinction between apostles and deacons in Acts 6) follow the vocational-charismatic pattern I have been advancing in this essay. That is, from a scriptural perspective, personal charisms can be used to identify groups within the church and across churches. [ Page ] 298 I also approached the scriptural theology of charisms from within an ecclesiological framework that stresses the continuities between Israel and the Church. Following the suggestions of George Lindbeck that ecclesiology ought to assume that the Church has an Israel- like character, I have been proceeding on the presupposition that the Church is the messianic people of God who, in their election, are God’s witnesses in the world both in faithfulness and unfaithfulness. Within this framework, I further interpreted the sending of the Spirit at Pentecost in light of its Israelite significance as a feast of first-fruits, suggesting that charisms in the life of the Church ought to be interpreted as anticipatory and provisional signs of the fullness of the life of the Spirit that is yet-to-come in the new creation. Further, the canonical association of Pentecost with Israelite first-fruits offerings gives charisms a sacrificial character, which finds its ultimate ground and meaning in the sacrifice of Christ. Charisms, therefore, as the concrete result of the bestowal of grace upon human persons, cannot be separated from the sanctifying process of conformity to the likeness of Christ, and thus ought to have a cruciform character. The provisional and sacrificial nature of charisms as first fruits offerings should therefore be contrasted with any view that presupposes charisms as manifestations of pneumatic “fullness” - a position that leads in triumphalistic directions. All of this has a significant bearing on the historical life of the Paulist Fathers and The Salvation Army. In both cases, triumphalistic presuppositions concerning the Spirit’s work can be identified. For Salvationists, the issue was obvious: William Booth was so convinced of his own divine gift and calling that he was unwilling to be subject to oversight by others. A weak ecclesiology, combined with an individualistic view of the Spirit’s guidance, combined to create a situation where Booth’s charism was interpreted as providing him license to act without accountability. It also meant that the “sacrificial” dimension of the Salvationist charism was [ Page ] 299 obscured, at least in part. Salvationists were certainly willing to live in sacrificial ways in relation to the world, often taking significant personal risks in their efforts to bring the gospel to the neglected. They were not, however, able to embrace sacrifice from an intra-ecclesial perspective, in giving themselves over to their brothers and sisters.2 This triumphalistic logic came to full fruition in the late-twentieth century Salvationist literature on the sacraments, in which the Army used a claim of divine vocation to non-observance as a means to ward off theological questions about its sacramental theology. Salvationist non-observance, which was instituted in a hesitant and tentative manner in 1883, was thus enshrined as an unquestioned aspect of a divinely granted identity and vocation, effectively shutting down meaningful dialogue and exchange with other traditions on important matters of theological disagreement. The Paulists, on the other hand, were no less confident of their own place in providential history as evangelists for America, and yet they were committed to submitting themselves to the oversight of the Catholic hierarchy. From the perspective of charisms, they were thus willing to allow their own charism to function interdependently in the context of the plurality of the Spirit’s gifts to the Church, and in particular, they were willing to submit the exercise of their charism to the discernment of those entrusted with the charism of oversight. If there was a triumphalistic claim to pneumatic “fullness” in the early history of the Paulist movement, it is to be found not only among the Paulists but more generally in the nineteenth century Catholic theology of the episcopacy, in which the charism of episcopacy was conceived as a charism above all others, rather than one which cannot function independently.3 Thus, again, the sacrificial nature of the ______________________________________ 2 My thinking on the intra-ecclesially sacrificial character of charisms has been influenced by Ephraim Radner’s account of apostolicity with reference to the episcopacy, in A Brutal Unity: The Spiritual Politics of the Christian Church (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2012), 175ff; and with reference to ministry more broadly speaking in The End of the Church: A Pneumatology of Christian Division in the West, 135-197. 3 See above, p. 226, n. 61. [ Page ] 300 charism was obscured, this time on the part of those exercising the charism of oversight. That is not to say that the bishops themselves, who “misapprehended” the Paulist charism in my account, made explicit claims to pneumatic “fullness.” Rather, I am suggesting that nineteenth century Catholic ecclesiology supported a view of the episcopacy in which the exercise of oversight was not sufficiently open to the mutual limitation that is implied in the Pauline analogy of the body and its parts, and was also insufficiently formed by the canonical shape of charisms as sacrificial first fruit gifts. To put it in the terms of Vatican II, the hierarchy was not sufficiently ready to offer a “docile response” to the surprising work of the Spirit through the Paulist charism,4 and thus the Paulists were hindered in the exercise of their charism. Thus in fact, the implied presumption of pneumatic fullness by the Catholic episcopacy served to hinder the exercise of the Paulist charism. Therefore the respective histories of the Paulists and the Salvationists both demonstrate the dangers of triumphalistic thinking about the Spirit, though each movement experienced this in rather different ways. The sacrificial character of charisms, often lost in the literature on this subject, and the way that each charism is limited by its interdependence upon the other charisms, are essential aspects of a theology of charisms, and these two case studies provide a living record of how the church’s life is hindered when these essential theological characteristics of charisms are overlooked. CHARISM AND INSTITUTION: SEPARATION AND OVERSIGHT In chapter II.2 I summarized prevailing positions regarding the relationship between charism and institution under five types: charismatic opposed to institutional, charismatic more fundamental than institutional, charisms as a reason for separate institutions, charismatic ___________________________ 4 Lumen Gentium, §45, in Flannery, The Documents of Vatican II, 405. [ Page ] 301 complementary to institutional, and charismatic and institutional in legitimate tension. My argument has built upon aspects of the complementarian and “legitimate tension” perspectives. Both have the merit of affirming the essential institutionality and charismatic nature of the church, but the complementarian perspective has the potential to lose the distinction between charism and institution, while the legitimate tension perspective places the tension in the wrong place (that is, between charism and institution, rather than between differing types of charismatic ecclesial institutions). One of the major claims I have been advancing throughout this project is the claim that charisms cannot be used as a justification for the continued separation of ecclesial bodies. This claim is specifically made against the argument of Oscar Cullmann, which I discussed in chapters II.1 and II.2. My claim is that any application of the category of “charism” to groups in the church ought to press those claiming such gifts towards organic and institutional unity, and cannot be used to argue for the persistent institutional separation of churches from one another. The case of The Salvation Army illustrates some of the practical reasons why this is so: the exercise of the charism itself is in fact hindered by separation, because the separated movement is forced to take on the tasks of a church, and therefore must seek the cultivation of a plurality of charisms, rather than serving as a means of grace for its particular charism. It must be noted that the implications of my argument are precisely the opposite of the implications of Cullmann’s argument. He argues that each respective Christian tradition must remain institutionally separate in order to preserve its charism, whereas I am arguing that such institutional separation actually hinders the exercise of an ecclesial charism.5 __________________________________ 5 Cullmann, Unity Through Diversity, 9, 31. Granted, the deeper issue which differentiates our positions is Cullmann’s imprecise use of the term charism as a way of discussing varying theological emphases, rather than vocation-oriented gifts of grace. As I argued above, such theological differences may indeed be “complementary” [ Page ] 302 In the case of charisms as I have defined them - diverse gifts of grace which bring with them a vocational obligation and can only be properly exercised in an organically interdependent manner - it is clear that such gifts offer no justification for separation, but rather press their recipients towards integration and communion with others who have been given other charisms. The Salvation Army, as a specialized movement, has increasingly seen its focus on its particular charism lessened as it has transformed into a “church home” for its members and therefore was pushed to cultivate a plurality of charisms. Thus the effort to remain independent and autonomous, predicated on the need to pursue a “special vocation” without hindrance from ecclesiastical relationships, is in fact detrimental to the exercise of the particular charism of the movement. I will return to this theme in the following chapter. My approach to the relationship between charism and institution is predicated on the view that an institution is a stable pattern of social interaction, and need not necessarily have formalized laws and coercive power, as some suppose. Because the church is the concrete people of God existing in history, it is necessarily institutional. Charism and institution must be distinguished but not opposed. Ecclesial institutions are the milieu for God’s charismatic action, and thus have a sacramental character, and are thus best described as means of grace. This means that ecclesial institutions require charismatic endowment if they are to exist and function as means of grace, but also that such institutions are the normal means through which the Spirit works in the lives of persons. I was also at pains in chapter II.2 to stress that there is no abstract conflict-in-principle between charism and institution, because all ecclesial bodies are necessarily institutional and all ecclesial institutions are charismatic institutions. All ecclesial institutions are charismatic, and all ecclesial charisms endure over time as an institutionalization of a particular __________________________________________________________________________________________________________ in some cases, but they ought not to be portrayed as analogous to the Pauline image of the body and its parts, with its various interdependent functions. [ Page ] 303 charism. Although charisms require authentication and oversight, we should not identify the office of oversight as the “institution” over against the “charism.” Furthermore, not all ecclesial institutions are “authorities.” Oversight is a particular charism among those given to the church, and this charism enables the overseer to discern and coordinate the charisms. Thus, “institution” is not to be identified with the established churches and opposed to “charismatic” reform and renewal movements. The institutional church is charismatic, and charismatic movements are institutional. Degrees of institutionalism may be seen in various ecclesial bodies, but in the church there are no “mere” institutions, nor are there “pure” charisms (in the sense of being free from institutionalization). Tensions between reform movements and established ecclesial structures are best characterized as tensions between two types of ecclesial institutions, or between differing charisms within the Church, rather than tensions between “the charismatic” and “the institutional.” Therefore a claim to a charism in itself cannot be used to set apart the charismatic (person or movement) above the established church. A cursory reading of Paulist and Salvationist history might seem to challenge my arguments concerning charism and institution, pitting each respective “charismatic movement” in a struggle against established and entrenched ecclesiastical structures. It is certainly true that each movement’s history was shaped in significant ways by its encounter with established church communities. But, as I have argued, these are conflicts between ecclesial institutions, rather than conflicts between “the charismatic” and “the institutional.” This is where the point about triumpahlistic claims to pneumatic fullness becomes so important: it is when “charism” is understood as offering a de facto infallible justification for the gift-recipient that the conflict between movement and church develops into an impasse, with one side or the other believing itself to be borne along by a divine mandate. Those claiming charismatic authority in this way [ Page ] 304 are often unwilling to accept the limitations that the charisms of others place upon their charism. The problem was particularly acute for the Salvationist movement, which attempted to live, as Manning observed, as a “disembodied spirit,” conceiving of itself as somehow outside the concrete institutional life of the Church.6 I have argued that the church is necessarily institutional, but that ecclesial institutions should be seen as means of grace. That is to say that they are used of God for the cultivation of charisms (in this sense they are “charismatic”), and that, in historical life, charisms cannot be separated from such institutional means, though they must be distinguished as means (charism and institution are not identical). In actual historical life, however, it is not always easy to maintain the distinction between the means and the gifts themselves. This was particularly true for the Paulists in their mid-twentieth century struggle over whether or not the practice of “missions” was an essential aspect of their charism as evangelists for America. The practice of missions was, in fact, an institutional means whereby the Paulists were able to cultivate and exercise their evangelistic charism. However, the community had to engage in a period of introspection and reflection in order to recognize that their community was not formed around this specific practice, but around the charism of evangelism, and that other means might be used to cultivate this charism in a new context. I would also suggest that one aspect of the nineteenth century Catholic triumphalist view of episcopacy was an exact identification of the institution of the episcopacy with the charism of oversight - thus failing to recognize that oversight is in part ___________________________________ 6 “Nevertheless, we have a conviction that the Salvation Army will either become a sect, or it will melt away. This world is not the abode of disembodied spirits.” Manning’s point was quite specifically that the Salvationists were not above institutionalization: “The history of Christianity abundantly proves that neither the human intellect nor the human will can alone perpetuate any teaching without change. Nor can human authority or human obedience perpetuate itself without an organization. But what is such an organization but a sect...?” Manning, “The Salvation Army,” 341. [ Page ] 305 the shared responsibility of the whole community, and not to be identified solely with one particular stratum of God’s people.7 Salvationists, as I have already noted, made the common mistake of separating charism and institution, identifying themselves as a non-institutional charismatic movement, and at times implying that established churches were mere institutions devoid of spiritual life and vitality. For Booth, this meant that he would not subject himself and his movement to any kind of institutional oversight, because he was so assured of the divine origins of his own calling and the rise of his movement. On the other hand, based on the perspective I have been advancing concerning the institutionality of the church, it could be argued that Booth in fact did identify charism and institution within the Army in a profound way. This is found in the way in which Booth endowed himself and the structures he established with an unquestionable authority over the life of Salvationists. Those who did question Booth’s decisions or practices were treated as traitors, or even charged with being disobedient to the Spirit. This close identification of the movement with the Spirit was all the more dangerous because of the presumed non- institutionality of the movement, which meant that Salvationists were not as aware of the forces of institutionalization at work in their movement as they might have been. Again, the later attempts to justify non-observance of the sacraments as an aspect of a divinely-granted identity reflect this blurring of the lines between charism and institution. All of this points to the difficulties one faces when trying to distinguish “charism” and “institution” in the lived historical life of the church, even when observing from a distance, as I have done in this project. The theological distinctions I have made are not invalidated by these _____________________________________ 7 In this regard, it is helpful to keep in mind BEM’s proposal that all ordained ministry, including the ministry of oversight, be exercised in a “personal, collegial and communal way.” World Council of Churches, Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry, M26. [ Page ] 306 difficulties; however, I would caution that charism and institution are not neatly discernible at all times in the Church’s life. What we can hope for is that ecclesial bodies, in recognizing the necessary institutionality of the church, and the sacrificial and interdependent nature of charisms, will remain humble and open to correction in their dealings with others in the church. That is to say, the recognition of the fact that all ecclesial institutions are both institutional and charismatic does not provide clear practical guidance for the resolution of conflict between ecclesial institutions, but it ought to undercut one-sided claims to a divine mandate for any one ecclesial charism or institution over and against all others. CHARISMS AND MOVEMENTS: HYBRIDS, PROVIDENCE, AND RENEWAL My overall argument hinges on the claim that, from the perspective of ecclesial charisms, a normative distinction can be made between local churches and specialized movements. Churches are characterized by a plurality of charisms, whereas specialized movements form as institutional structures focus on a particular charism. Charisms, strictly speaking, are given to persons, and the practices, traditions, and discourse of particular movements serve as means of grace which facilitate and cultivate the exercise of particular charisms. Though charisms are personal gifts, and movements remain means of grace for the cultivation of particular charisms, charisms are also always ecclesial gifts, because ecclesial persons always exist in community. Therefore the distinction between personal gift and institutional means is not absolute. It is proper to say that these personal gifts are also gifts given to the church. Therefore, it can be said that a particular charism “belongs” to a movement, so long as it remains clear that the gifts (and the persons to whom they are given) belong to the church as a whole, which belongs to God. I noted in chapter II.3 that the most developed body of literature relating charisms to movements comes from twentieth century Catholic theologies of the religious life. Through the [ Page ] 307 influence of the Catholic charismatic movement and the increasing number of lay ecclesial movements in Catholic circles, the theology of ecclesial charisms has been expanded into a more general theory about the relationships between charisms and movements. The general features of the Catholic perspective are sound and cohere with the position I am advancing. The personal nature, interdependent character, and vocational obligation of charisms are maintained in Catholic theology. Likewise, movements are seen as having a charism only in an analogical sense, with charisms properly speaking being given to persons. The diversity of charisms thus gives life to a diversity of movements with specialized vocations. This Catholic approach has ecumenical potential if applied more broadly to Protestant renewal movements and other ecclesial bodies which began as renewal movements. In particular, those protestant perspectives on renewal which advocate the normative status of both established churches and renewal movements could be strengthened by adopting the theology of ecclesial charisms. The theology of ecclesial charisms can help Protestants to account for the particular character and vocation of individual movements, and, with its emphasis on the interdependence and sacrificial character of charisms, will guard against the triumphalism that often leads to separation in protestant contexts. Although I argued that the theology of charisms supports a distinction between churches and movements, in the church’s visible historical life, there are two other types of ecclesial bodies, both of which are ecclesiological anomalies, in spite of their historical prevalence: the separated movement, and the movement-church. I have therefore proposed a four-fold typology of ecclesial bodies - churches, movements, separated movements, and movement-churches. What emerged in the examination of Salvation Army history is that the separated movement type is always a transitional body, and it is in some ways difficult to distinguish between a separated [ Page ] 308 movement and a movement-church. As Harold Hill’s analysis shows,8 the Salvationist movement was beginning to function as a “church home” for its members from a very early stage - arguably as early as 1867, after only two years of existence as a separated movement. Despite the fact that it was more than a century before Salvationists would officially self-identify as “a church,” they were in fact a movement-church for nearly all of their history, because they were a movement that was taking on the functions of a church, and attempting to be both a movement and a church, in spite of their own protestations to the contrary. Salvation Army history, therefore, provides an interesting case with respect to the ecclesial status of movements in the church. In arguing that the Army was a movement-church from the early days of its existence, I am not claiming that it was fully a “local church” in the normative sense, but rather that it was a blend of church and movement, in that it was a movement that functioned like a church with respect to its members.9 I have suggested above that ecclesial institutions are means of grace, used of God as the regular means through which his mission is carried out in the world. As such, various practices, which are ecclesial institutions and therefore means of grace, perform particular functions with respect to the people of God. I am not implying that such functions - catechesis, worship, church discipline, fellowship, ordered ministry - are all that is necessary for a body of persons to be “a church.” The church is not merely a social body that performs functions for its members. It is a creature of the Word and Spirit, sustained at all times by divine grace, and inextricably tied up with the mystery of divine redemption in Christ. It cannot be reduced, therefore, to a set of functions. _____________________________________ 8 Hill, Leadership in the Salvation Army, 44-47. 9 As noted at the outset of this essay, I would include the observance of the two dominical sacraments as a basic feature of a “local church,” and thus, from my perspective, even to this day the local Salvation Army corps remains a hybrid movement-church. My discussion of the church-movement typology in this project, however, has been specifically focused on the relationship of charisms to these two categories (thus, as I have stated repeatedly, a movement is a means of grace for the cultivation of a particular charism, whereas a church is characterized by the presence of a plurality of charisms). [ Page ] 309 However, those functions, which can be observed and analyzed from a sociological perspective, are an essential aspect of the church’s identity. And furthermore, when an ecclesial body which is not a church (that is, a specialized movement, in my argument) begins to take on the functions of a church, it is beginning to morph into a more “church-like” ecclesial body.10 A separated movement cannot exist as such for any prolonged period of time without taking on such functions, and thereby beginning the transition into a movement-church. If these functions were not taken on, the separated movement would not continue as a viable community of faith. A body of Christians cannot endure through time without catechesis, for example. And catechesis requires persons who are gifted as teachers, and ecclesial structures which will help to cultivate the charism of teaching, and provide opportunities for that charism to be exercised. This again underscores the ways in which separation hinders the exercise of the charism of the movement. Once separation has taken place, the movement will either begin the transition towards becoming a church, or it will fail to pass on the Christian faith from one generation to the next. Of course, it must also be said that movements which remain movements and integrate their institutional life with a church are by no means guaranteed that their charism will flourish. The Paulists provide ample evidence of this, in their struggle for recognition and the various ways in which they were called upon to carry out tasks in addition to their charism of evangelization. In that case, the specialized movement loses its focus on its particular charism, and thus the exercise of its charism is hindered. _____________________________________ 10 As noted at the outset of this project, I am using the term “ecclesial body” to refer to any identifiable body of persons within the church. As such, it could refer to a movement or a church, or a hybrid of the two, as I have outlined those types in this essay. 310 I suggested above that the Roman Catholic theology of charisms, articulated in the wake of Vatican II, is basically sound, and could be integrated within an ecumenical theology of church renewal, building upon the many theories of renewal that focus on the need for ecclesial movements as means of renewal alongside local churches. Such a project is beyond the scope of this essay, but the cases of the Paulist Fathers and The Salvation Army suggest two ways in which a theology of renewal might more explicitly incorporate a theology of ecclesial charisms. First, while the theologies of renewal which I surveyed often stressed the importance of maintaining an institutional connection between movements and established churches, this was done primarily on pragmatic grounds. That is, unity is often promoted from a Protestant renewal perspective because disunity will blunt any potential renewing effect of the movement in question. The theology of charisms offers a more robust theological grounding for the interdependence of movement and church: if movements are formed around a particular gift, then they are called upon to exercise that gift in concert with the gifts of others, and to exercise the gift as an expression of their conformity to Christ - that is, in sacrificial giving of oneself for others. To do otherwise is to deny the fundamental interdependence of charisms, in addition to the fact that the result of separation will be the impoverishment of the church as a whole. Second, a “charismatic” theology of renewal would need to stress the connection between charisms, providence, and renewal. My investigation of Salvationist and Paulist history brought the theme of providence to the fore in part III of this essay - to a greater degree than I had anticipated when constructing my account of ecclesial charisms in part II. Both Isaac Hecker and William Booth were possessed by a sense of their own unique place in providential history, and I suspect that this would be the case with most founders of ecclesial movements. But the fact that the founders and original members believed they were providentially set aside by God is [ Page ] 311 not in itself sufficient. In fact, such simplistic providentialism feeds into the triumphalistic tendencies of renewal movements that I have been attempting to guard against. Some deeper reflection on the way such movements have indeed been used by God is called for, but such an account must also be able to deal with the failures of both church and movement in their own histories, as these two are part of God’s providential ordering of the church’s life. I have attempted to provide such an account of these two movements, but a further task that remains to be taken up is to bring together these preliminary reflections into a more fully developed theology of renewal. The prospect of this further task brings me back to the importance of the Israel-like character of the church, and avoiding triumphalism in thinking about the charism of a movement. Specialized movements have often fallen into such triumphalistic thinking, and interpreted the whole of their history as “providential” in a positive sense only: that is, providence becomes a justification of all of their historical actions and decisions. Losing the sense of their Israel-like character, they have failed to “take warning” from Israel’s history (cf. 1 Cor. 10). When such a recognition is made, the movement in question can affirm its place in providential history, but will also recognize that its election is not a guarantee of its faithfulness. Rather, it ensures that it will be a witness - but that such witness might come in the form of judgment visited upon the movement. CHARISMS, UNITY, DIVERSITY, AND DIVISION: DISCERNMENT IN DIVISION I closed part II by noting that a distinction must be made between ecclesial “gifts” in a general sense (as discussed in some recent ecumenical theology) and charisms in the scriptural sense. There are many kinds of potentially complementary ecclesial diversity which could be [ Page ] 312 identified as diverse “gifts,” but “charisms” retain the specific sense of diverse personal gifts of grace which bring with them a vocational obligation. This distinction is found in a latent form in major multilateral and bilateral ecumenical dialogues, as well as in Catholic magisterial teaching. The theology of ecclesial charisms supports a vision of church unity which is visible, organic, and historical, which is to say that ecclesial unity is necessarily institutional. Because charisms are interdependent vocational gifts and can only function properly in concert with other charisms, the idea of separation on the basis of a particular charism is inconsistent. The vision of unity supported by the theology of ecclesial charisms therefore is closer to the mid-twentieth century understandings of unity in the Faith and Order movement than to more recent vision of Christian unity. That is, the application of the theology of charisms to the question of Christian unity affirms a specific kind of diversity, rather than assuming that “diversity” of all kinds is enriching to the church’s unity. My argument in part II led to the conclusion that a separated ecclesial body will experience the hampering of the exercise of its particular charism as the ecclesial body begins to take on the various functions required of a church. Separation also leads to the impoverishment of the universal church as it suffers the loss of the functioning charism in question. Charismatic hampering and impoverishment is itself part of the church’s witness in faithfulness and unfaithfulness to the judgment and mercy of God. Thus, the separated movement does not cease to be part of the elect people of God, but even in separation the brokenness of the church as body of Christ witnesses to human frailty and depravity, thus pointing to the broken body of Christ. A key issue that emerged in the examination of these case studies has to do with the difficulties that ecclesial division creates for the discernment of ecclesial charisms. This was a particular issue which did not emerge in a significant way in my constructive work, but became [ Page ] 313 abundantly clear in the investigation of Paulist and Salvationist history. In both cases, the process of identifying and interpreting the charism of the movement was made difficult because of the context of the movement within a divided church. For the Paulists this is most clearly seen in the way they interpreted their charism as a divine vocation to “convert” Protestants to Catholicism. Thus the charism of evangelism was turned into a pretext for working to take church members away from other Christian bodies. Of course, as I have argued above, this is not the fault of the Paulists per se, but rather a reflection of the ecclesiological presuppositions of their day. Many on both sides of the Protestant-Catholic divide in the late nineteenth century would have viewed those on the other side as being beyond the boundaries of the true church, and thus in need of the message of salvation. It was the long history of ecclesial division which led to this situation in which ecclesiological reflection centred around attempts to define the Church in such a way as to exclude other ecclesial bodies, thus declaring them non-churches, or worse.11 This context of division meant that the Paulists were not able to recognize their Protestant contemporaries as fellow-Christians, and therefore they set out to actively bring them away from their own churches and into the Catholic Church. This does not call into question the Paulist charism of evangelization. It was the Paulist interpretation of that charism which was problematic, and the root of the problem is not to be found in the Paulists themselves, but in the divisive ecclesial context in which they were formed. What was most fascinating about this issue was the way in which the changing theology of the Catholic Church in the wake of Vatican II provided the Paulists with a way of resolving the issue, and interpreting their charism in the light of a new ecumenical situation. ___________________________________ 11 See, for example, Ephraim Radner’s discussion of the way in which the image of the Anti-Christ migrated from being an enemy outside of the Church to an enemy within the Church, in the wake of the sixteenth century Reformation. Radner, The End of the Church: A Pneumatology of Christian Division in the West, 67-78. [ Page ] 314 For the Salvationists the issue comes back once again to the matter of oversight. In a divided church, the task of oversight is fractured and fragmentary. While Booth was a member of the Methodist New Connexion, he was at least subject to a clear structure of oversight by the Conference. However, once he became an itinerant evangelist, and later the leader of an autonomous missionary agency, he was free of any kind of oversight. Initially his financial constraints pressed him to work with an advisory committee, but once his mission became more established he was able to cut these ties. While he initially set up a Conference-style system of government to share oversight within his movement, this was also dismantled in the early stages of the movement’s history, leaving Booth as an overseer with no overseers of his own. Even in the early days of the movement, when it had a slightly more communal governance structure, the movement was nevertheless autonomous, and had no formal relationships of any kind with other ecclesial bodies, which might have offered some level of accountability. All of this was possible, of course, because of the relative ease with which modern Protestant bodies are able to divide, forming new ecclesial bodies whenever it is deemed expedient, and thereby severely undercutting the exercise of the charism of oversight. If a new ecclesial body can be formed whenever a group of persons disagrees with the decisions of their overseers, then there is little hope for effective oversight to prevail in situations of ecclesial conflict. For Salvationists, this meant that they had no authoritative outside confirmation of their charism, in spite of their own certainty regarding their purpose and vocation. One can survey, as I have done, the fragmentary responses to the Salvationist movement, in an attempt to gauge the reception of their charism in the broader church, but such a survey is far from authoritative. We are left only with the self- interpretations of the Salvationists, and have no clear external confirmation of their claims. [ Page ] 315 The division of the Church thus creates significant difficulties in relation to the discernment of ecclesial charisms. Charisms, which are provisional first-fruits in any case, and difficult to discern in the midst of the realities of the church’s institutional and historical life, are made more difficult to discern, interpret, and exercise because of the divisions which mar the body of Christ. This reinforces the interdependent nature of charisms, and the way in which charisms ought to press the church towards visible and historical unity. It is to these more explicitly ecumenical implications which I now turn. [ Page ] 316 CHAPTER IV.2 ECUMENICAL IMPLICATIONS My final task in this essay is to spell out clearly the ecumenical implications of my argument, some of which have been raised at various points above. I will address these implications under two headings: the place of “movements” in the church, and the nature of Christian unity and diversity envisioned and supported by the theology of ecclesial charisms. Before proceeding it is important that I specify the particular ways in which my argument is relevant to broader ecumenical concerns, and the limitations of the argument’s applicability. First, as noted in chapter II.4, while my argument implies and supports a vision of Christian unity as visible, institutional, and organic, and therefore implies that all divisions are, in some sense, sinful, that is not the main substance of my argument, nor am I able to persuasively argue for such an understanding of Christian unity solely on the basis of my proposal regarding ecclesial charisms. Secondly, in terms of the present state of the church, my argument concerning ecclesial charisms does not attempt to provide a comprehensive account of all types of ecclesial diversity, nor does it attempt to propose a theory that explains all ecclesial divisions. Rather, it excludes such a reading as simplistic and warns against the use of the idea of charisms as a way of making the sins of division into virtues of Spirit-given diversity. My positive claims regarding charisms and ecclesial bodies relate specifically to those bodies which began as specialized movements, including those specialized movements which went on to separate and evolve into movement-churches over time. In the case of those particular ecclesial bodies, my argument carries implications regarding the prevention of further separation, and the re- orientation of the self-understanding of those specialized movements which have already separated. It also suggests that such movement-churches might be understood in light of their [ Page ] 317 particular charism by their ecumenical partners. In all of this, my argument drives towards the institutional integration and re-integration of ecclesial charisms in a historically and visibly unified church. MOVEMENTS IN THE CHURCH AND CHARISMATIC DIVERSITY In identifying a charism as the origin of certain movements in the church, I am grounding the existence of these movements in the Spirit’s guidance of the Church in history, and therefore granting significant importance to charismatic movements within providential history. They are, in a real sense, “raised up by God” to fulfill a purpose in the Church and in the world. However, much of my argument has been focused on marking off limits to such claims, and attempting to rein in potentially problematic pneumatic justification of a given movement’s historical actions. In arguing that charisms are vocational gifts that ought to function interdependently and in a sacrificial way, I am excluding many forms of ecclesial diversity from claiming charismatic sanction and justification. Doctrinal diversity, for example, is not a matter of diverse charisms, and therefore differences of doctrine between various ecclesial bodies should not be construed as such. There has sometimes been a tendency among members of various movements in the Church to use claims to the Spirit’s work as a way of sanctifying the entire history of one’s own movement or confession. This is how I have interpreted The Salvation Army’s later sacramental theology: as a justification of a particular doctrinal position on the basis of a claim that the movement as a whole was divinely ordained. The problem in this situation is that “charism” could become a short-hand for “denominational identity” or “denominational distinctives,” and would thereby simply serve as a purported pneumatic prop for all aspects of the particular tradition’s identity and history. Most importantly, charism then becomes a category which is used to support the separation of the ecclesial body from other ecclesial bodies, as in Cullmann’s [ Page ] 318 proposal. The theology of ecclesial charisms outlined in this thesis will not allow for this kind of justification of separation for a movement in the Church. Rather, a movement which is autonomous from the rest of the Church, yet claims to guard a particular ecclesial charism, must continue to acknowledge the sin of division and work to overcome its isolation, if the movement’s charism is to serve its proper purpose. It should be noted that I am not denying that movements like the Paulists Fathers and The Salvation Army can lay claim to a divine origin. Rather, I am attempting to bring specificity to such a claim. Using the theology of charisms, the movement can continue to claim a divine mandate by identifying a “special gift” and “calling,” without using the charism as a way of justifying all aspects of its history, especially those which resulted in division. Its charism is a gift that obliges the movement to work interdependently within the plurality of ecclesial charisms, and to seek the upbuilding of the church through the exercise of that gift. Moreover, each charism is a gift of the church as a whole, and therefore it is not, strictly speaking, the “possession” of a given movement, even if that movement has been raised up in order to serve as a means of grace for the cultivation and exercise of the charism in question. Thus, a desire for the “autonomy” of a movement on the basis of its particular charism is ecclesiologically incoherent. The autonomy of a movement actually undermines its charismatic purpose, and is a contradiction of the very nature of the movement’s charism as a functionally interdependent vocational gift. Again, Lindbeck’s concept of non-uniform faithfulness is useful as a way of interpreting various movements as being particularly faithful in one aspect of Christian witness, without devolving into all-or-nothing debates regarding the ecclesiality of such movements.1 Since _________________________________ 1 Lindbeck, “The Church,” 154-157. [ Page ] 319 ecclesial bodies are acknowledged to be non-uniform in their faithfulness, we can both recognize the status of a particular movement as part of the Church, which may indeed bring to our attention a particular aspect of Christian faithfulness which is undervalued among other Christian bodies, without thereby declaring them to be the fullness of what the Church is meant to be. The fact that a movement has been raised up by God does not mean that the movement has necessarily been faithful in all aspects of its corporate life. As part of the people of God, the movement witnesses in faithfulness and unfaithfulness, through the blessings and the judgments of God displayed in its corporate life in history. Most importantly, identifying the movement as an ecclesial movement means we need not move immediately to the question of whether or the movement meets the minimum requirements for identification as a church. The movement’s place in the people of God is found in its status as a movement, rather than as a church. Thus the unfaithfulness of the movement in a particular area does not de-church the movement, so long as it remains recognizably Christian. Furthermore, such unfaithfulness is assumed as part of the character of the people of God in continuity with Israel, and such unfaithfulness does not call into question the legitimacy of the movement’s charism. Rather, it points to ways in which the exercise of the charism is hindered and the life of the Church catholic is impoverished. Finally, separated movements and movement-churches, therefore, are not de-churched by their separation, even though such separation is sinful, and even though they represent ecclesiological anomalies. Their hybrid status is a reflection of their unfaithfulness in certain areas, even though they are faithful in other areas, and are therefore still identifiable as parts of the Church. In the case of The Salvation Army, this means that this particular movement-church’s lack of sacramental observance may prevent me from identifying it as a church, but it does not require me to exclude it from the Church catholic, because the Army’s continued evangelization of the [ Page ] 320 marginalized in word and deed is surely an objective mark of the Christian faith. Thus, specialized movements ought to undertake a significant examination of their history and origins in order to attempt to identify their specific charism, and to seek to faithfully exercise that charism in a way that builds up the body of Christ as a whole. This means that they must be open to discerning their own unfaithfulness in history, and must be prepared to repent together, as a community, of ways in which they have failed in the exercise of their charism. They must also be wary of reading all sorts of non-vocational idiosyncrasies into their charism, and thereby sealing themselves off from real correction. That is to say, as already noted, “charism” is not another word for “identity,” as identity has come to function in recent ecclesiological discourse concerning diversity. As the Princeton Proposal laments, discussions of Christian diversity and division have shifted away from matters of truth to matters of identity, resulting in a kind of “tribalism” which re-frames fundamental doctrinal disagreements simply as matters of denominational identity.2 In focusing on their charism rather than their identity, movements will be better positioned to move towards a visible and institutional unity, even while affirming their unique place in the church as founded on their particular vocation. The obvious conclusion of my argument as it relates to specialized movements is that they ought not to be autonomous ecclesial bodies. The proper exercise of their charism depends upon the integration of the members of the movement within the Church, and thus, as I have outlined in detail above, separation will result in the movement lessening its focus on its specific charism and attempting to cultivate the plurality of charisms needed for the movement to become a functioning local church. Given the number of Protestant denominations that originated as specialized movements, this is a very significant claim. Perhaps the most significant case for _________________________________ 2 Braaten and Jenson, In One Body Through the Cross, §41-42, pp. 40-41. [ Page ] 321 which this claim is relevant would be that of the Methodist traditions, which originated as a renewal movement in the Church of England. I am not the first to suggest that Methodism’s true ecclesial identity might be found in taking on the status of an “order” in the Church,3 but I have provided what I believe is a unique basis for making such an argument. A fuller examination of this and other cases is beyond the scope of this project, of course, but my argument suggests that the status of such traditions as “movement-churches” is an ecclesiological anomaly that would ideally be resolved in the embrace of an ecclesial identity as a movement focused on the particular vocation associated with the charism of the movement. I am not suggesting that it would be a simple matter for all separated movements and movement-churches ought to return to the status of a movement immediately. Given historical circumstances and developments, it might prove very difficult for many such ecclesial bodies to become specialized movements again. What I am suggesting, however, is that these separated movements ought not to lose a sense of the failure of separation, and ought to recognize the ways in which their own conflicted history is, in part, due to the sin of division and their inability to remain integrated within an established church. Even if re-union or re-integration seems impractical and highly unlikely, that does not mean that the status quo should be granted theological legitimacy on the basis of a claim that separation serves the preservation of the charism. Once the sinful nature of division is acknowledged, it becomes difficult to abandon the goal of re-integration. Furthermore, the difficulties involved in such a process may be perceived as surmountable when conceived of as acts of repentance, which, if pursued to the end of re- integration, will serve for the upbuidling of the Church and the greater exercise of the charism. ____________________________________ 3 See, for example, Albert Outler’s comments on Methodism’s original identity as an “evangelical order within an inclusive church,” and his suggestion that they ought to be ready to “face death as a denomination” for the cause of Christian unity. That the World May Believe, 62, 75. [ Page ] 322 Another significant implication of my argument as it relates to movements in the church is that it could open increased avenues for Roman Catholics to recognize and appreciate specialized movements from within the Protestant traditions. I specifically chose to compare a Protestant and Catholic movement because, according to my argument, the Paulists and the Salvationists have been identified as having the same theological foundation in the charismatic gifts of the Spirit. I have been able to do a close comparison of the ways in which these two missionary movements have interacted with their respective ecclesial contexts, and demonstrated the significant ways in which the ecclesiological presuppositions of each movement affected its identity and historical development. In all this I have been working with categories developed in the post-Vatican II Catholic theology of charisms, but I have applied them ecumenically to a Catholic and Protestant movement respectively. This application of Catholic categories in an ecumenical context should provide a way for Catholics to understand and appreciate the history and ecclesial identity of movements such as The Salvation Army. That is, rather than relating to such specialized movements as opposing “churches,” they could be viewed as ecclesial bodies that are more akin to Catholic religious orders, missionary societies, and lay movements. As Catholic thinking on the topic of charisms in recent decades has expanded to include a wide variety of ecclesial movements in their own corporate life, there exists a strong possibility for a Catholic recognition of “charisms” in protestant ecclesial movements, and I hope that this essay will have helped to further the possibility of such recognition. Even if Catholics continue to view such movements as ecclesial communities which lack the fullness of ecclesiality which, they believe, can only be found in the Catholic Church, nevertheless, they might be able to recognize charisms at work in these movements. [ Page ] 323 Finally, although my argument has mostly focused on restricting the way in which charisms might be used to justify a diversity of ecclesial bodies, it also highlights the need for the church as a whole to be open to the possibility of new movements arising in history, and to work to avoid misapprehending the charism of a particular movement. The consequences of such misapprehension can be just as problematic as the separation of a movement from the church, because misapprehension may mean that the movement is not permitted to serve as a means of grace for its particular charism. This was the case with the Paulist Fathers. The result of misapprehension is the impoverishment of the Church as a whole, because the hindering of the movement in the exercise of its charism is a hindrance to the edification of the body as a whole. ECCLESIAL CHARISMS AND CHRISTIAN UNITY As I have noted a number of times in this essay, the theology of ecclesial charisms I have developed supports a normative vision for Christian unity which is visible, historic, organic, and institutional. Because charisms have an interdependent character, they cannot be properly exercised in isolation. All charisms oblige their recipients to seek integration with other members of the body so that the various charisms can function in concert with one another. The provisional nature of charisms as manifestations of the Spirit underscores the limited and circumscribed nature of each gift, given to one person within the body for the good of the whole. The sacrificial character of charisms means that the one who receives the gift must exercise it in a self-denying way, as an aspect of their conformity to Christ. Such interdependent and sacrificial exercise of charisms cannot be achieved “invisibly” or in a merely “spiritual” sense - as such conceptions function in some Protestant visions of Christian unity. The theology of charisms presupposes to a living, breathing, functioning body, moving and developing [ Page ] 324 dynamically over time as a real community of persons. Christian unity and Christian diversity, therefore, cannot be idealized and removed from this concrete context of interdependent and organic relationships between human persons. Furthermore, such relationships always develop as stable patterns of social interactions, which are social institutions. Because the church is thus inescapably institutional, and because the church is the historic people of God, as opposed to an ideal or invisible body, the church’s unity ought also to be visible and institutional. The theology of charisms therefore supports visible, historical, organic unity as the norm for the Christian church. Separation will find no justification in a claim to an ecclesial charism, and separation should continue to be identified as a failure and a sin. This visible and institutional unity, of course, includes diversity, but the only kind of diversity that is justified by an appeal to ecclesial charisms is vocational diversity. The diverse charisms are given to the members of Christ’s body so that they might serve in a particular way which builds up the Church. Charisms are not a justification of diversity-in-general, but provide a theological grounding for unity in vocational diversity. While other forms of diversity in the church are not excluded by my argument, my claim is that only vocational diversity is supported by an appeal to ecclesial charisms. Thus, to repeat my central claim in this essay, ecclesial charisms provide no justification in themselves for the separation of ecclesial bodies. They do provide a theological explanation of vocational diversity in the church, but the concept of charisms cannot be stretched so as to explain all kinds of ecclesial diversity. That is, one cannot simply survey the ecumenical landscape and attempt to identify the charism of every denomination or tradition. When the concept of charism is thus stretched, it goes beyond the bounds of its scriptural usage, and becomes merely a convenient cipher for diversity-in-general. And when “charism” is used as a [ Page ] 325 way of describing all kinds of ecclesial diversity, real and significant matters of disagreement can be conveniently re-framed as complementary “gifts” of the Spirit, thereby obscuring the history of conflict and schism in the church. Those ecclesial bodies that emerged as specialized movements, whether or not they separated and became autonomous, may indeed have originated with a particular charism, as I have suggested. But some ecclesial bodies simply emerged out of doctrinal controversy, or disputes about church polity - not because they believed themselves called to a particular vocation. Thus, to read a theology of ecclesial charisms back into the history of all ecclesial division would be to ignore the real causes of separation in many cases, and could provide license for evading the many ways in which the sin of division has been committed in our midst. 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