Who's your Daddy?

As all the various Christian denominations seek to create new believers in a spiritually hungry world, I hope we can avoid the competitiveness that insists that our own particular "brand" is best. I know that a deep confidence in our own tradition of believing and worshiping is necessary in order to be willing to share the tradition with others. Still, that deep confidence need not overshadow the knowledge that other denominations are seeking to do God's work in the world, as well.

In all honesty, I come to this concern with a certain axe to grind. Favorite authors of mine and even close personal friends tend to speak of basic Christian tenets as "Catholic," and they don't, unfortunately, mean the "little c catholic" that we refer to when reciting the Nicene Creed. As Roman Catholics, they even claim the word "catholic," but I don't think the non-Roman portion of God's "one holy, catholic, and apostolic church" is willing to let the word go.

Actually, we "little c catholics" ourselves give away more than makes sense. We tend to acquiesce to the notion that the early and medieval church and everything not explicitly Protestant is by default Roman Catholic. It would be more accurate to say that Roman Catholicism and Protestantism share the same roots in early Christianity and in the medieval church. Just because the Roman Catholic branch is by far the largest branch does not mean that the other branches do not still draw their primary nourishment from the roots of Christianity.

The branching off process was not an abrupt or tidy process. Luther's congregants were still buying indulgences in 1517 when he nailed his 95 theses on the Cathedral door, and Henry VIII was named Defender of the Faith for opposing Luther in 1521. Queen Mary would reinstate Catholic Mass in place of the Book of Common Prayer's Communion service a full thirteen years after Ignatius of Loyola finally managed to get his famed Spiritual Exercises published. Reformation leaders did not have lobotomies that cut all of Roman Catholic piety out of their brains. And, yes, it is true that reciting the Angelus and Ave Maria remained an integral part of the personal spiritual practice of Luther and other key reformers.

So why, in explaining the spiritual influences in his life, does the newly-installed Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, refer to the Benedictine and Ignation influences as Roman Catholic? He needs to claim them proudly as his Anglican birthright just as clearly as I cling to Copernicus, Kosciousko, and Chopin as part of my Polish heritage. That my branch of the Polish family tree now stretches across the ocean to America does not expunge my ancestry. Likewise, the Reformation did not expunge Protestantism's ancestry. It is ours forever, to be shared with loving respect for the other descendants of our beloved ancestors who also cherish our common roots.

Pride in our respective denominations is a good thing, but may it not devolve into an unhealthy religious jingoism. Paul figured this out 20 centuries ago in writing to those quarrelsome, egocentric Corinthians. Is claiming denominational supremacy any less a manifestation of jealousy than claiming Paul or Apollos? Christ is the destination: leaders and denominations are only the vehicles, wonderful though they be.

Let's be circumspect, generous, and honest in claiming and studying our roots. Doing so will make us more attractive and convincing in our efforts to spread the Gospel in a diversely-populated world.

The Gift of Passion and Purpose

When most Roman Catholics of the Archdiocese of Saint Paul and Minneapolis went to church last week-end and Christmas, they left with more than the usual spiritual inspirations of the season; each family was offered a gift from their Archbishop, a special-edition hard copy of Matthew Kelly's 319-page book, Rediscover Catholicism. Nicely wrapped in Christmas paper, the books struck the right note for folks unused to leaving church with such surprises, but the real surprise is likely to occur later, as the books are actually read and discussed.

Subtitled "A Spiritual Guide to Living with Passion and Purpose," the book hits the "Me" generations in their central concern: themselves. Doesn't everybody want to live with passion and purpose? The book demonstrates how to use the traditional Christian disciplines to become the best me, or, specifically "the best version of myself," as opposed to the current version of myself. The sacrament of reconciliation heads the list of tools for this personal actualization. "Your weaknesses are the key to the unimaginable bigger future that God has envisioned for you," Kelly writes. Could there possibly be any tack likely to be more successful than this with Boomers (post WWII babies), Generation X (1960s babies) and Generation Y (1980s babies)?

Although Kelly is writing about the "Big C" (Roman Catholic) Church he obviously loves, his wisdom and advice is wholly applicable to "little c" catholics, as well, namely those Protestants who consider themselves part of the one, holy, catholic and apostolic church. If Christians of all stripes can rediscover the treasures of their faith, Generation Z babies won't need to read a book like Kelly's; they will be even luckier, catching their faith through the osmosis of living among their newly-energized predecessors.

Let us wish the good Archbishop Nienstedt well in this ambitious undertaking. May every Roman Catholic in the archdiocese read Kelly's excellent book and thereby rekindle a passion and purpose that is sure to be contagious and history-making.