The Wrong Kind of Reformation

A key moment in evangelical history was taking place as I entered young adulthood. Though ecumenicism had been around for quite some time, and the pivotal document “Evangelicals and Catholics Together: The Christian Mission in the Third Millennium” was published in 1994, conversion of evangelicals to Catholicism appeared to reach its peak in the mid-2000s with people like philosopher Francis Beckwith, singer Audrey Assad, and historian David Anders, among others. Some of my own classmates both in Christian high school and bible college were strongly pulled to “cross the Tiber” and embrace Roman Catholicism.

In retrospect, this “return to Rome” was quite overblown. While some high-profile evangelicals were converting to Catholicism, many more Catholics were becoming Protestant in one form or another.

The narrative, though, was just the opposite. For many years, we heard about scores of former evangelicals who were attracted by the established authority, beautiful worship, and well-reputed intellectual pedigree of the Catholic church. A slew of seminarians, alumni, and professors from a conservative, evangelical seminary converted in less than a decade, leading to the 2016 book, Evangelical Exodus.

Chief among their reasons for leaving evangelicalism was a rejection of sola Scriptura. “Christianity’s Dangerous Idea,” as Alister McGrath called it (the idea that every person could interpret Scripture themselves), had brought about uncertainty about the meaning of Scripture and innumerable expressions of Christianity. The infighting of Protestant denominationalism seemed troublesome to many and became a primary catalyst toward a search for authority and a unified expression of Christianity.

Disillusioned evangelicals were attracted by the “magisterium” of the Roman Catholic church. In Catholicism, there is a consistent teaching office responsible for the interpretation of Scripture along with the traditions of the church. The pope is the head of this living, teaching office, called the magisterium, ensuring consistency of doctrine and tradition throughout history.

These were the arguments we heard: “The Roman Catholic Church is the direct link to the ancient church.” “Catholicism is anchored in historical theology.” “The unity of Catholic doctrine shows it to be superior to Protestant diversity.” And this was the clincher for many. Sola Scriptura was too risky. Tyndale’s ploughboy interpreting and understanding Scripture for himself was a threat to orthodox faith.

Now, admittedly, Roman Catholicism has enjoyed general doctrinal consistency since Thomas Aquinas (including false doctrines like infused righteousness, penance, purgatory, and the veneration of Mary). If one can overlook the absence of these doctrines in Scripture, longstanding Catholic tradition can be an effective advertisement. And many evangelicals were duped.

Enter Pope Francis in 2014.

The Catholic church is experiencing a new reformation. But this is nothing like the 16th century. Pope Francis is slowly, but surely, moving Catholicism in a new progressive direction. Is it a movement back to Scripture, like the one initiated by a German monk in the early 16th century? Not at all. Is it a retrieval of ancient church tradition, doubling down on historic Catholic beliefs and practices? Once again, no.

This “reformation” of the Catholic church is headed full steam in the other direction. Not back to the Bible, or even back to church tradition, but “forward” to the “inclusive” atmosphere of our times. In just ten years, Pope Francis has supported the ordination of women, encouraged priests to accept pro-abortion politicians, announced that “all religions lead to God,” and approved priestly blessings for same-sex unions.

Though in many ways, this is the inevitable fruit of Vatican II, the reality is that the Catholic church of 2024 is becoming unrecognizable in comparison to its form twenty years earlier.

What are those converts to Catholicism thinking now? The “magisterium” did not save historic Catholic doctrine. The irony is not lost on those of us who hold to sola Scriptura.

But we can invite them back. They thought they were returning “home,” but there is no true stability in the shifting sand of Romanism. “Home,” for the believer, is in the revelation of Christ in His Word alone. Not in a fallible pope, but in the infallible Word of God.

 “Feelings come and feelings go,
And feelings are deceiving;
My warrant is the Word of God--
Naught else is worth believing.

Though all my heart should feel condemned
For want of some sweet token,
There is One greater than my heart
Whose Word cannot be broken.

I'll trust in God's unchanging Word
Till soul and body sever,
For, though all things shall pass away,
His Word shall stand forever!”
 -Martin Luther

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