Archive for the ‘Phillip Cary’ Tag

Devotion for the Feast of the Reformation (October 31)   4 comments

Above:  Wittenberg in 1540

Image in the Public Domain

Schism and Reconciliation


The Feast of the Reformation, celebrated first in the Brunswick church order (1528), composed by Johannes Bugenhagen (1485-1558), died out in the 1500s.  Initially the dates of the commemoration varied according to various church orders, and not all Lutherans observed the festival.  Original dates included November 10 (the eve of Martin Luther‘s birthday), February 18 (the anniversary of Luther’s death), and the Sunday after June 25, the date of the delivery of the Augsburg Confession.  In 1667, after the Thirty Years’ War (1618-1648), Elector of Saxony John George II ordered the revival of the commemoration, with the date of October 31.  Over time the commemoration spread, and commemorations frequently occurred on the Sunday closest to that date.

The feast used to function primarily as an occasion to express gratitude that one was not Roman Catholic.  However, since 1980, the 450th anniversary of the Augsburg Confession, the Graymoor Ecumenical and Interreligious Institute (of the Franciscan Friars of the Atonement) and the American Lutheran Publicity Bureau have favored observing the feast as a time of reconciliation and of acknowledging the necessity of the Reformation while not celebrating the schism.

This perspective is consistent with the position of Professor Phillip Cary in his Great Courses series of The History of Christian Theology (2008), in which he argues that Protestantism and Roman Catholicism need each other.

I, as an Episcopalian, stand within the Middle Way–Anglicanism.  I am convinced, in fact, that I am on this planet for, among other reasons, to be an Episcopalian; the affiliation fits me naturally.  I even hang an Episcopal Church flag in my home.  I, as an Episcopalian, am neither quite Protestant nor Roman Catholic; I borrow with reckless abandon from both sides–especially from Lutheranism in recent years.  I affirm Single Predestination (Anglican and Lutheran theology), Transubstantiation, a 73-book canon of scripture, and the Assumption of Mary (Roman Catholic theology), and reject both the Immaculate Conception of Mary and the Virgin Birth of Jesus.  My ever-shifting variety of Anglicanism is sui generis.

The scandal of schism, extant prior to 1517, but exasperated by the Protestant and English Reformations, grieves me.  Most of the differences among denominations similar to each other are minor, so overcoming denominational inertia with mutual forbearance would increase the rate of ecclesiastical unity.  Meanwhile, I, from my perch in The Episcopal Church, ponder whether organic union with the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) is feasible and wise.  It is a question worth exploring.  At least we are natural ecumenical partners.  We already have joint congregations, after all.  If there will be organic union, it will require mutual giving and taking on many issues, but we agree on most matters already.

Time will tell.








Almighty God, gracious Lord, we thank you that your Holy Spirit renews the church in every age.

Pour out your Holy Spirit on your faithful people.

Keep them steadfast in your word, protect and comfort them in times of trial,

defend them against all enemies of the gospel,

and bestow on the church your saving peace,

through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, who lives and reigns

with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.  Amen.

Jeremiah 31:31-34

Psalm 46

Romans 3:19-28

John 8:31-36

Evangelical Lutheran Worship (2006), 58


Revelation 14:6-7

Romans 3:19-28

John 8:31-36 or Matthew 11:12-19

Lutheran Service Book (2006), xxiii



Feast of Karl and Markus Barth (December 10)   17 comments


Above:  A German Stamp Bearing the Image of Karl Barth

Image in the Public Domain


KARL BARTH (MAY 10, 1886-DECEMBER 10, 1968)

Swiss Reformed Minister, Theologian, and Biblical Scholar

father of


Swiss Lutheran Minister and Biblical Scholar


Karl Barth (whose feast day in The Episcopal Church has been December 10) was arguably the most important Christian theologian of the twentieth century.  Pope Pius XII (reigned 1939-1968) considered him to be the most consequential Christian theologian since St. Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274).  Markus Barth, a Biblical scholar like his father, was a prominent scholar of the Pauline epistles.

Karl Barth was Swiss.  He, a son of Fritz Barth, a Swiss Reformed minister and professor of theology, entered the world at Basel on May 10, 1886.  Our saint’s mother was Anna Katharina Sartorius.  Our saint studied at Bern, Berlin, Tubingen, and Marburg, was steeped in Liberal theology, such as that of Adolf Harnack.  That post-Enlightenment theology was anthropocentric (emphasizing the human experience of God) and optimistic regarding human nature.  (World War I called that anthropocentric optimism into question.)

Towards the end of Liberalism’s heyday came the contribution of the doyen of NT Liberal scholars, equally famous but more enduring in influence.  These were the lectures on Christianity, delivered by Adolf Harnack without manuscript or notes, to some six hundred students from all the faculties in the University of Berlin at the turn of the century, at the height of his own powers and at the self-consciously high point of European and German culture.  In these lectures Harnack deliberately turned his back on the Christ of dogma.  Christianity indeed must be rescued from its dependence on metaphysics and philosophy.  What was needed now was a rediscovery of the simplicity and freedom of the gospel which Jesus himself had preached.  Here for Harnack was “the essence of Christianity”–the “historical Jesus” encountered through the Gospels in his own religion and message.  And what was that essence?  Harnack summed up Jesus’ gospel as centering on the fatherhood of God, the infinite value of the human soul, and the importance of love, regularly popularized thereafter as “the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man.”  These were Jesus’ enduring insights, what was of permanent value when abstracted from the merely transitory.  According to Harnack, “true faith in Jesus is not a matter of creedal orthodoxy but of doing as he did.”

…In this case, the most important hermeneutical principle at work was in effect the conviction that Jesus, the “historical Jesus,” the Jesus stripped of dogmatic accretion, would/must have something to say to modern man, and the consequential desire to provide a mouthpiece for the restatement of that message.

And the result?  A Jesus portrayed and understood as a teacher of timeless morality, Jesus as a good example, Jesus as more the first Christian than the Christ–a flight from the Christ of dogma indeed!  At the same time, we should not decry the Liberal focus on the moral outcome of religion as the test of its character; such concerns had brought the slave trade to an end and achieved political, social and industrial reforms, although the Liberal tendency to understand morality solely in terms of personal and individual responsibility was the stronger influence, and the laissez-faire economics and imperialist hubris of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries seem to have been little affected.  Moreover, the reassertion of the importance of feeling in religion, of faith as a deeply rooted passion, was surely an important correction to a Protestantism still inclined to be too word-focused and still overly dependant on the Enlightenment paradigm of science and reason.  Not least Liberal scholarship deserves credit for its concern to speak meaningfully to its own age.  Here too the motivating force in life of Jesus scholarship was not unfaith but desire to speak in the idioms of the time, desire to be heard.  The trouble was, we may say, it allowed the spirit of the age to dictate not simply the language but also the agenda.

–James D. G. Dunn, Christianity in the Making, Volume 1, Jesus Remembered (2003), pages 37-39

Barth, ordained a Swiss Reformed minister in 1909, served at Geneva (1909-1911) then Safenwill (1911-1911) before teaching at the University of Gottingen (1921-1925).  Then he became Professor of Dogmatics and New Testament at the University of Munster (1925-1930) and Professor of Systematic Theology at the University of Bonn (1930-1935).  In 1913 our saint married Nelly Hoffmann (1893-1976).  The couple’s children included Markus (1915-1994) and Christoph (1917-1986).

Barth changed his theological mind more than once.  One break with his training occurred in August 1914, when, much to his dismay, he learned that 93 German intellectuals (including all of his seminary professors) had signed a manifesto endorsing imperial German war efforts.  The church was too close to the state, our saint concluded.  Barth’s break with his training deepened in 1919, with the publication of the first edition of his commentary on the Epistle to the Romans.  The Neo-Orthodox phase of Barth’s theology had begun.  Eventually he changed his mind again, becoming, in the estimation of Professor Phillip Cary, in his Great Courses series The History of Christian Theology, simply orthodox, in line with St. Augustine of Hippo and other giants of Christian theology.

Barth’s discomfort with the church being too close to the state deepened in 1933, after Adolf Hitler rose to power.  Hitler sought (quite successfully, overall) to co-opt German churches.  The Confessing Church, of which our saint was a founder, formed in opposition to this effort.  As the first of the Duseldorf Theses (1933) stated,

The holy Christian church, whose only head is Christ, is born from the word of God; in this it abides, and it does not harken to any alien voice.

–Quoted in Linwood Urban, A Short History of Christian Thought, Revised and Expanded Edition (1995), page 346

Barth was among the authors of the Theological Declaration of Barmen (1934), which condemned Nazi ideology.  The following year he had to leave Germany because he refused to pledge allegiance to Hitler.

From 1935 to his retirement in 1962 Barth was Professor of Systematic Theology at the University of Basel in Switzerland.  He completed his 13-volume Church Dogmatics (more than 9300 pages long), which he began at Bonn.  Our saint also delivered the main address at the World Council of Churches (1948).  During the 1950s Barth spoke out against the nuclear arms race and for Christians living behind the Iron Curtain.  Our saint followed his conscience, regardless of what was politically popular and acceptable.

Barth, aged 75 years, visited the United States in 1962, with the encouragement of his son Markus, then a professor at The University of Chicago.  For seven weeks the great theologian toured, speaking at Princeton Theological Seminary, The University of Chicago, Union Theological Seminary (New York City), and San Francisco Theological Seminary.  Barth met the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr., and considered the encounter to have been too brief.

Barth died at home in Basel on December 10, 1968.  He was 82 years old.

Barth’s theology was optimistic and rooted not in human experience but in the love and sovereignty of God.  His theology was Christocentric, about divine purposes, not anything human.  The Trinity, Barth insisted, is the basis of divine revelation; God the Father is the speaker, God the Son is the spoken word, and God the Spirit is the response in the hearts of people.  All of the above are inseparable and essential parts of the act of divine revelation, Barth wrote.  Furthermore, the theologian insisted, God speaks uniquely via Christianity and God reveals the Word of God (Jesus) via the word of God (the Bible).

Barth wrote about dialectical theology.  God says both “yes” and “no,” the theologian taught.  Furthermore, Barth insisted, the divine “no” always serves the divine “yes.”  He wrote that faith is an “impossible possibility;” that is, we cannot reach God yet God can reach us.  Divine revelation, not human perception of God, is the proper basis of faith, the great theologian wrote.  Divine revelation, Barth taught, is a shattering event; the institutional church is the crater the event created.  Furthermore, our saint wrote, there is no need to turn to human experience, nature, consciousness, or existence to hear or relate to God, for God can, metaphorically, give us ears to hear.

Barth redefined the Augustinian and Calvinist doctrine of election, thereby incurring the criticism of many staunch Calvinists.  According to our saint, God chose incarnation.  Furthermore, according to Barth, election is not a hidden decree; it is really about Jesus, is good news, is the basis of the Gospel, and precedes creation.  Our saint explained that the question is the election of Christ, not people.  He taught that Jesus Christ is the covenant in one person and that the covenant is the purpose of creation.  The great theologian insisted that, in Christ, God is for, not against, humans.

Barth also redefined Double Predestination.  It applies only to Christ, he wrote; God the Father has predestined Christ to death on the cross (God’s “no”) and resurrection (God’s “yes”).  Therefore, according to Barth, election always serves blessing, not condemnation.  Barth also taught that God has predestined certain people to Heaven, for the benefit of those not so predestined.  Grace, the great theologian insisted, was crucial.

Some critics of Barth’s theology have detected universal salvation in it.  Barth did not state that explicitly, but he did not think that God saving everyone would be terrible.

Barth, aware that many people identified themselves as Barthians, stated that nobody should think of himself or herself as a Barthian.  People should be and think of themselves as Christians, the theologian insisted.

Two of the sons of Karl Barth became scholars of the Bible.  Christoph Barth (1917-1986) was a scholar of the Old Testament.  He taught in Indonesia then at Mainz, Germany.  At Mainz he organized his lectures on the Old Testament into publishable form and published them in the Indonesian language; the first volume debuted in 1970.  Christoph’s widow, Marie-Claire, also a teacher of theology, supervised the condensation of the four volumes of the Indonesian text in English translation as God With Us:  A Theological Introduction to the Old Testament (1991).

Markus Barth, born at Safenwill, Switzerland, on October 6, 1915, was a Pauline scholar and a Lutheran minister.  In 1940 he married Rose Marie Oswald (1913-1993); the couple had five children.  Markus studied theology at Bern, Basel, Berlin, and Edinburgh before receiving his Ph.D. from the University of Gottingen in 1947.  From 1947 to 1953 he served a church at Bubendorf, near Basel.  For 19 years (1953-1972) Markus taught New Testament at, in order:

  1. The University of Dubuque Theological Seminary, Dubuque, Iowa;
  2. The University of Chicago, Chicago, Illinois; and
  3. Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

Then, from 1973 to 1985, he taught New Testament at the University of Basel, in Switzerland.

Markus wrote about baptism, Holy Communion, the Pauline Epistles, Jewish-Christian dialogue, justification, and the resurrection of Jesus.  His books included the volumes on Galatians and Ephesians for The Anchor Bible series and a posthumously published commentary on the Epistle to Philemon.

Markus died at Basel on July 1, 1994.  He was 78 years old.

The legacies of the Barths glorify God.






O God, you have endowed us with memory, reason, and skill.

We thank you for the faithful legacy of [Karl Barth, Markus Barth, and all others]

who have dedicated their lives to you and to the intellectual pursuits.

May we, like them, respect your gift of intelligence fully and to your glory.

In the Name of God:  Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Deuteronomy 6:4-9

Psalm 103

Philippians 4:8-9

Mark 12:28-34






Feast of St. Ambrose of Milan, St. Monica of Hippo, and St. Augustine of Hippo (August 28)   24 comments

Basilica of St. Ambrose, Milan

Above:  Basilica of St. Ambrose, Milan, Italy, Between 1860 and 1890

Image in the Public Domain



Roman Catholic Bishop of Milan

His feast transferred from December 7



Mother of Saint Augustine of Hippo

Her feast transferred from May 4 and August 27



Roman Catholic Bishop of Hippo Regius


The Donatists in North Africa upheld the ancient image of the church as a gathered elite, a foreign body in the midst of a secular society and an apostate church.  Defenders of the orthodoxy agreed at the Council of Nicaea (325) sometimes denounced emperors such as Constantius II as heretics, and repudiated the authority of secular rulers over the church.  Others, like Ambrose, bishop of the imperial city of Milan (d. 397), were determined to subject the exercise of imperial power to the spiritual authority of bishops.  But until Augustine’s City of God (413-427) most Christians unquestioningly accepted the Roman political and social order as the earthly form of the Christian society.

–Robert A. Markus in The Oxford Illustrated History of Christianity (1990), edited by John McManners, page 71




The three saints on which I focus in this post have separate commemorations on ecclesiastical calendars.  Nevertheless, I have chosen to combine those commemorations here at this, my Ecumenical Calendar of Saints’ Days and Holy Days.  Their three stories flow into one easily, after all.  Furthermore, recounting their lives this way functions to argue a point, which is that rugged individualism plays no part in a healthy Christian spiritual journey.  Each of us needs, at different times, encouragement or prodding on the part of others to pursue the proper path and to remain on it.





Above:  Saints Augustine and Monica, by Ary Scheffer

Image in the Public Domain

In the beginning of this composite story there were Patricius and Monica (sometimes called Monnica), of Tagaste, Numidia, Roman Empire.  (Tagaste has become Souk Ahras, Algeria.)  Patricius was a pagan and a municipal official.  His wife, St. Monica, was a Christian.  The couple had three children.  Navigius and his sister Perpetua grew up as Christians and entered the religious life.  St. Augustine, however, had a winding road of a spiritual pilgrimage.

St. Monica sought to bring her husband and her errant son to Christ.  She succeeded, but only after much prayer and effort.  Patricius converted shortly before he died in 370.  St. Augustine underwent baptism 17 years later.  The fact that he made the transition from apostate to Christian had much to do with his faithful and persistent mother, who had taught him religion and theology when he was a child.  St. Augustine, born at Tagaste on November 13, 354, began his studies in other topics in that city.  The schoolmaster beat him severely, though, and the young saint, having learned to dislike Greek, never mastered it.

St. Augustine became an apostate.  At age 11 or 12 (365 or 366) St. Augustine went to study at Madauros, about 25 kilometers from Tagaste.  Madauros was a center or pagan thought.  There he soaked up the pagan milieu and learned Latin literature.  In 370 St. Augustine moved to Carthage.  There he took a mistress, whose name he did not reveal in his writings.  They had a son, Adeodatus (372-388).  At Carthage St. Augustine also converted to Manicheism, a dualistic religion.  He taught grammar at Tagaste starting in 373.  Then, for seven years, he taught rhetoric at Carthage, where he lost his Manichean faith and became an agnostic.  In 383, over St. Monica’s strong objections, he moved to Rome.  Then, in the following year, St. Augustine accepted a position teaching rhetoric at Milan.  Along the way he regained his Manichean faith.

St. Monica had followed her errant son around for years, so she could influence him positively and locally.  She had managed to find a young woman who would, in time be of age to marry St. Augustine and be a suitable wife.  He dismissed his longtime mistress, who returned to northern Africa and joined a religious community.   As St. Augustine struggled with his sexuality he famously prayed,

Give me chastity, but not yet!

Then he took a second mistress.  At Milan St. Monica found the right man to help end her son’s time of spiritual rebellion.  She persuaded St. Augustine to listen to and meet St. Ambrose, the bishop there.




St. Ambrose

Above:  St. Ambrosius, by Francisco de Zurbaran

Image in the Public Domain

St. Ambrose of Milan (born in 337) traveled an interesting spiritual path to his destiny.  The native of Treves (now Trier, Germany) was a son of a Roman prefect and a pious and educated mother.  He grew up a Christian.  His widowed mother raised him in Rome, where he received a liberal arts education.  St. Ambrose became a lawyer.  In 371, at age 34, he received an appointment as governor of the province of Liguria and Aemilia, a job he performed well.  In 374 the governor presided over the election of the next Bishop of Milan.  He became not only a candidate but the favored one, much to his shock and displeasure.  St. Ambrose, who was neither baptized nor trained in theology, did not think himself qualified for the post.  Nevertheless, even going into hiding did not change destiny.  In one week in December 374 St. Ambrose became a baptized Christian, a priest, and the Bishop of Milan within a week, his consecration taking place on December 7.

St. Ambrose took his responsibilities seriously.  He donated his lands to the Church, gave his possessions to the poor, fasted daily, took communion daily, and spent much time studying, writing, and meditating.  Among his theological influences was Origen (185-254), who favored the allegorical reading of Scripture.  St. Ambrose also argued forcefully against the Arian heresy, which stated that God the Son was a created being.

[Aside:  Unfortunately, Arianism continues to thrive, especially among the Jehovah’s Witnesses and the Mormons.]

The Arian-Orthodox Christian controversy divided the Church and became a factor in imperial politics.  Some emperors were Orthodox.  Members of the faction out of imperial favor frequently suffered, for the concept of the separation of church and state was centuries of away from becoming commonplace and widely accepted.  The Emperor Gratian (reigned 375-383) was Orthodox.  Magnus Maximus (reigned 383-388), the usurper who murdered him, was an Arian.  While Magnus Maximusreigned in the western portion of the Roman Empire, Valentinian II, Gratian’s half-brother, theoretically ruled in the East.  Actually, however, Valentinian II’s mother, Justina, served as his regent from 383 to 388.  She and her son were Arians.  In 383 Justina asked St. Ambrose to intercede with Magnus Maximus.  The bishop traveled to Treves, where he remained to meet with the murderous usurper and with local priests responsible for the execution of Priscillian heretics, but he did succeed in distracting the usurper, to the benefit of forces of Valentinian II, who seized the alpine pass.  The grateful emperor honored St. Ambrose’s request that he not restore the pagan altar of Victory in the Senate.  Justina, also grateful, promised not to use her position to advance the cause of Arianism.

She either lied or changed her mind.  In 385 Justina demanded that St. Ambrose hand over a church building in Milan for use by Arians.  He refused.  She sent troops to enforce her demand, but had to back down after a crowd (including St. Monica) filled the cathedral, with the soldiers surrounded.  The following year the imperial government issued a decree favoring Arian worship and condemning to death those who objected.  St. Ambrose refused to keep silent, of course.  Justina sent soldiers again, but had to back down again.




St. Ambrose, who encouraged women to become nuns (rather than to marry), also advocated for missionary work, wrote hymns (such as Veni Redemptor Gentium, or “Come, Thou Redeemer of the Earth“), and confronted imperial authorities, found time to mentor St. Augustine.  From St. Ambrose St. Augustine learned, among other things, aspects of Neo-Platonism, as well as Origen’s allegorical exegesis of Scripture, both of which aided him in his spiritual journey.  Next St. Augustine read the Pauline Epistles and studied the Desert Fathers.  He resigned as teacher of rhetoric and focused on preparation for baptism.  On Holy Saturday 387, at the Easter Vigil, St. Augustine and his son accepted baptism and joined the Roman Catholic Church.  St. Monica was present.

Later that year St. Monica died at the port of Ostia, Italy.  She and her family were planning to return to northern Africa.  She was about 56 years old when she died.

St. Monica is the patron saint of Christian wives and mothers and of victims of abuse.  She has two feast days, May 4 being the traditional date and August 27 being the date on the revised Roman Catholic calendar.  The Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Canada, The Anglican Church in Canada (in The Book of Common Prayer of 1962), and The Episcopal Church, among others, celebrate her life on May 4.  The Anglican Church in Canada (in the Book of Alternative Services of 1985); The Anglican Church in Aotearoa, New Zealand and Polynesia; The Church of England; and The Lutheran Church–Missouri Synod, among others, do so on August 27.




The traditions of the Scriptures are his [Christ’s] body; the Church is his body.

–St. Ambrose of Milan

St. Ambrose, who defended claims that St. Mary of Nazareth is the Mother of God, continued to defy imperial authority, even to assert his power over it.  Emperor Theodosius I “the Great” (reigned 379-395), the sole emperor from 392 to 395, made Christianity (already legal) the official religion.  He also suppressed Arianism and paganism.  In 388 St. Ambrose confronted Theodosius I over an order to spend state funds to build a structure for non-Christian worship, forcing the Emperor to back down.  Two years later, in Thessalonica, a popular charioteer attempted to rape a male servant of Butheric, the Roman master of soldiers in the region.  Butheric ordered the charioteer arrested, an action to which a mob objected.  Butheric and some other officers died during ensuing riots.  The angry Theodosius I ordered soldiers to surround the amphitheater in Thessalonica and to slaughter the spectators at a chariot race.  Whether any person killed was innocent was not an issue for the Emperor.  He reversed the order, but not before about 7000 people died.  St. Ambrose excommunicated Theodosius I, lifting the discipline after the Emperor had done several months of penance and issued a proclamation stating that no execution would occur less than 30 days after the issuing of the death sentence.

St. Ambrose died at Milan on April 4, 397.  He was about 60 years old.




Perhaps St. Augustine of Hippo was the greatest legacy of St. Ambrose of Milan.  Certainly aspects of the teacher’s philosophy echoed in that of the attentive pupil.

St. Augustine eventually made his way back to Tagaste, where he remained for a few years.  After spending a year in Rome he arrived in his hometown.  There he sold his inheritance, gave the money to the poor, and retained a house, which he converted into a monastery in 388.  St. Augustine might have spent the rest of his life thusly, but, in 391, St. Valerius, the Bishop of Hippo Regius, ordained him to the priesthood at Hippo Regius.  Four years later our saint became the bishop coadjutor, with the right of succession.  In 396 he succeeded as the Bishop of Hippo Regius, a minor port in northern Africa.

There St. Augustine remained.  More than 400 sermons and 200 letters, have survived.  By 427, according to his count, he had written 237 books and 93 other literary works, not counting sermons and letters.  Many of these volumes of St. Augustine’s oeuvre have survived, fortunately.

Theological controversies defined St. Augustine’s output.  He lived, thought, argued, and wrote during a time of theological formation.  He helped to define the tradition upon which we Christians of 2016 stand and became one of the greatest and most influential theologians of Western Christianity.  Nevertheless, even the Roman Catholic Church, which has no difficulty recognizing him as a saint, has not accepted all of his theology as worthy of inclusion in the catechism.  St. Augustine came from a particular time and a certain place, the circumstances of which defined his context.  In that context, in the judgment of Holy Mother Church, he went too far on occasion.  That did not detract from his influence, however.


Against Heresies



Opposing Manicheism, Donatism, and Pelagianism occupied much of St. Augustine’s time.  He had, of course, been a Manichean, leaving that religion twice.  The founder of the religion was Mani (215/216-276/277), of Babylonian origin.  He taught dualism.  Manicheism meshed easily with Gnosticism, with which many early Christian leaders had to content.  Manicheism spread rapidly throughout the Roman Empire from 280 to 330, attracting adherents from gnostic sects and people of haute culture and the intelligentsia.  The religion, with its dualistic and gnostic elements, rejected the incarnation of the Second Person of the Trinity as Jesus of Nazareth.  It also made a strong case for human free will, offered an optimistic ethos of human freedom and agency.


Donatism (300s-700s) defined the Church as the assembled spiritual elite–the self-identified pure of heart and orthopraxy who separated themselves from the cosmos and the corrupt, old ecclesiastical structure.  (The spirit of Donatism has never ceased to exist, unfortunately.)  During the Diocletian persecution (303-305) many Christians in northern Africa had committed apostasy.  Afterward many of them expressed remorse and requested readmission to the Church.  The Roman Catholic Church, being willing to forgive, agreed, so long as the remorse was genuine.  The election of the successor of Mensurius, the Bishop of Carthage, who died in 311, functioned as the flash point of the Donatist schism.  Mensurius had been conciliatory toward remorseful apostates.  Two men contended to succeed him.  Caecilian was conciliatory; Majorinus, who died in 315, was a Donatist.  Donatus Magnus, from whose name the word “Donatist” came, succeeded as Bishop of Carthage in 315.

Donatism divided the Church in northern Africa for centuries.  Donatism defined the Church as the society of holy people and stated the holiness of the Church depended upon the exclusion of those who had committed mortal sin.  In contrast Roman Catholicism argued that the holiness of the Church depended upon the Holy Spirit and the communication of divine grace via priests.

St. Augustine was a staunch Roman Catholic.  The four marks of the Church, he wrote, were oneness, holiness, catholicity, and apostolicity.  Furthermore, our saint insisted, there is and can be only one Church.  St. Augustine, echoing St. Paul the Apostle and St. Ambrose of Milan, defined the Church as the Body of Christ.  The Church, the Bishop of Hippo Regius wrote, is the unity of faith and love, and schism and heresy are antithetical to unity, the principle of which is the Holy Spirit.  Our saint argued that the Church will contain impure elements until the end times, when God will remove them.  Meanwhile, the members of the Church were spiritual pilgrims in constant need of reform.

Furthermore, St. Augustine wrote, Christ exists in three modes–the eternal Word, the God-man, and the Church.  The emphasis on organic unity mattered to the bishop, who supported Papal primacy.  Donatists and other schismatics hampered the goal of unity.


St. Augustine also objected to Pelagianism, named after Pelagius (c. 360-c. 420), a Roman British theologian.  Pelagianism, which the Roman Catholic Church declared heretical quickly, argued for the inherent moral neutrality of people at birth, thereby repudiating the doctrine of original sin.  Pelagianism therefore contended for the complete freedom of human will to choose good or evil–to save or to condemn oneself.  This heresy eliminated grace from salvation.  St. Augustine refuted Pelagianism without teaching salvation by faith alone.

Augustine’s doctrine of grace led to deep issues that are still a matter of dispute in Western Christian tradition.  He insisted with Paul that we are justified by faith, but does not each the Protestant doctrine of justification by faith alone.  For Augustine, our journey to God, our salvation really is like a journey along a road.  When we’ve converted to the faith, that’s like getting on the right road.  What moves us along the road is love for God.  But Christian faith is just the beginning of the journey, and is not sufficient to bring us home.

Augustine insists on the necessity of grace if we are to do any good work, but does not teach the Protestant doctrine that we are saved by grace alone, because when our wills co-operate with grace our works of love have merit.  By grace we come to love God, though we never do so perfectly in this life.  Because believers pray for grace and forgiveness, their sins are not imputed to them.  Gifts of grace, called “co-operative grace,” work together with our good will to produce meritorious works of love.  Although all our good works are outgrowths of grace, our salvation requires merit as well as grace.  This is possible because the initial gift of grace, called “operative grace,” works a change in our hearts, turning our wills toward the end.

Augustine taught that grace and free will were compatible, but not everyone agrees that his doctrine of grace really is compatible with an adequate concept of free will.  He insists that this is not coercion, for it does not mean overcoming the unwilling but inwardly causing the unwilling to become willing.  Hence on Augustine’s view, God can cause us to will freely in a different way than we had before.  This view of free will is deemed inadequate in its own control.

–Phillip Cary, The History of Christian Theology Course Guidebook (Chantilly, VA:  The Great Courses, 2008), pages 40-41

For St. Augustine grace was essential and original sin was real.  He linked original sin with sexuality, agreeing with St. Paul the Apostle (in 1 Corinthians 7) that virginity is superior to marriage and that being married is better than committing sin.  St. Augustine agreed that sexual desire resulted from the fall of the human race at Eden and that the act of procreation was therefore impure.  Thus infants entered into the world already tainted by original sin and therefore deserving of damnation, hence infant baptism for the baptism of sins.  Not surprisingly, St. Augustine favored the mandatory celibacy of the clergy.

St. Augustine, in refuting Pelagianism, argued for Double Predestination, the idea that God predestines everyone–some to Heaven and others to Hell.  The official position of the Roman Catholic Church since the Council of Orange (529), guided by St. Caesarius of Arles (468/470-543), has been Semi-Pelagianism.

Simply put, this is the semi-Pelagian position:  We are all unworthy, undeserving sinners.  We not only leave undone many things we ought to have done; even the good we do is corrupted by sinful motives, desires, and goals.  We are totally dependent on the saving grace of God in Jesus Christ for our salvation.  But although it is true that we are not free and able to save ourselves by our good works, we are free and able to do one thing.  We can acknowledge our need for God’s grace and turn to God to ask for the deep, abiding faith, hope, and love we cannot achieve for ourselves.  We can confess Christ as Lord and Savior and show our willingness to receive the salvation made available to us in him.  We can allow the transforming power of God’s Holy Spirit to come into our hearts.  We can go to church in order to express our desire for the help and salvation we know comes only from God.  We cannot save ourselves, but we can do that much if we really want to.  And if we choose God and turn to God in this way, God will choose us, love, help, and save us.  If some do not receive this saving grace, it is not because God has rejected them; it is because they have rejected God.  Salvation is by God’s grace alone, available to all who sincerely ask for it and want it.

–Shirley C. Guthrie, Jr., Christian Doctrine, Revised Edition (Louisville, KY:  Westminster John Knox Press, 1994), pages 127-128


Other Matters Theological


St. Augustine became an influential theologian.  God occupied the center of Augustinian thought.  The saint argued that one can discern the existence of God, the preferred name for whom is Truth, via reason.  He also wrote that the image of God is evident in the soul, which is immortal and imperishable, not an aspect of the body.  Furthermore, St. Augustine contended, the human powers of memory, understanding, and will reflect the Holy Trinity.  He also affirmed transubstantiation while making a distinction between the sign or sacrament and the thing of which the sacrament was a sign, or between what one sees and what one understands, or what between the bread and wine and the body and blood of Christ.  He argued that the bread and wine and the body and blood of Christ are identical after the prayer of consecration, for they become substantially the same.

St. Augustine argued that, although not all wars are just, some of them are.  He established four standards for a just war:

  • lawful authority,
  • a just cause,
  • a right intention, and
  • war as the last resort.

With regard to sin and evil, St. Augustine understood evil to be not only the result of free will but the lack of good and sin to be disordered love, the turning away from things eternal.


The End of Saint Augustine and the Western Roman Empire


St. Augustine spent his final years mourning the crumbling of the Western Roman Empire.  (The Eastern Roman Empire survived until 1453.)  Among the traditional justifications for persecuting Christians had been the idea that Gentiles needed to honor pagan deities as a patriotic duty.  If too many Gentiles neglected this duty, the reasoning went, the gods would abandon the Roman Empire.  In 410, at the end of the reign (395-423) of the Emperor Honorius, Rome fell to the Visigoth chief Alaric (c. 370-410).  The Western Roman Empire limped along (at least de jure, until September 476, when Flavius Odoacer (Odovacer), an army officer of German origin, deposed Romulus Augustus, the last emperor in the west.  Actually, though, that event was a formality.  The Western Roman Empire did not fall; it faded away.  St. Augustine wrote The City of God to, among other things, argue against the blaming of Christians for the sorry state of the Western Roman Empire.  He died at Hippo Regius on August 28, 430, during the siege of that city by the Vandals.  Our saint was 75 years old.




One need not agree completely with someone entirely to acknowledge his or her sanctity and greatness.  Indeed, collegiality is a virtue in relation to both the living and the dead.  If I were to make total agreement with someone a requirement for inclusion on the Ecumenical Calendar of Saints’ Days and Holy Days, the Ecumenical Calendar would not exist.

These saints were spiritual giants upon whose figurative shoulders my fellow Christians and I stand.  Their biographies remind us that we have an obligation to influence one another positively, for the glory of God and the benefit of each other.  The issues with which we must contend might differ from theirs, but the call of Christ to follow him remains constant.  Fidelity to Christ will look different from one person to another, depending on who, where, and when one is.  May we who follow Christ honor that diversity of discipleship.







Loving God, we praise you and give thanks to you for the examples of your servants

St. Ambrose of Milan, St. Monica of Hippo, and St. Augustine of Hippo,

who, in the late Western Roman period, contended for the faith courageously.

May we who follow you support each other in our spiritual pilgrimages,

be one with you and each other, and leave a legacy that honors you and

brings glory to you; in the Name of God:  Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

–Kenneth Randolph Taylor, May 10, 2016 Common Era

Sirach (Ecclesiasticus) 2:7-11, 16-18

Psalm 87

Galatians 7:11-17

John 16:20-24

–Adapted from Holy Women, Holy Men:  Celebrating the Saints (2010), pages 107, 359, and 545


Feast of Johan Nordahl Brun (July 27)   1 comment

Kalmar Union 1400

Above:  The Union of Kalmar, 1400

Image in the Public Domain



Norwegian Lutheran Bishop, Author, and Hymn Writer

Intermarriage among the royal families of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden culminated in the Union of Kalmar (1397-1523).  Norway was part of Denmark from 1380 to 1814, when, in the wake of the Napoleonic Wars, Sweden (which broke away from the Union of Kalmar in 1523) gained Norway.  Norwegian nationalism persisted during these centuries leading up to Norwegian independence in 1905.  Our saint for today was part of that nationalistic movement.

Johan Nordahl Svendsen Brun entered the world at Bynesset, Norway, on March 21, 1745.  His parents were Svend Busch Brun (a merchant) and Mette Katarina Nordahl Brun.  Svend taught his son arithmetic and writing.  Mette taught her child to read the Bible.  Our saint had read the Bible twice before his eleventh birthday.  He was on the path to the ordained ministry.

That path contained some difficult times, however.  A half-brother, a theology student at Copenhagen, encouraged Brun to study theology and even tutored him in the subject.  Our saint studied at the Latin school and the university at Trondhjem, Norway, and worked as a family tutor in the home of one Mr. Mennche, a councilor there.  In Copenhagen Brun failed his initial theological examination and performed badly on his first homiletical test.  Back at Trondhjem, our saint wrote poetry, taught, and preached.  For a brief time in 1771 he served as the private secretary to one Bishop Gunnerius during a trip to Copenhagen.  Brun did not know German, so he had to resign.  At Copenhagen, however, he wrote Zarine, a play which won much acclaim.  In 1772, still in Copenhagen, Brun wrote the first Norwegian-language play, Einer Tamberskeilver, which attracted more criticism than acclaim at the time.  Our saint also wrote nationalistic songs, including the first, unofficial Norwegian national anthem.

Bergen, Norway

Above:  Bergen, Norway, Between 1890 and 1900

Image Source = Library of Congress

Reproduction Number = LC-DIG-ppmsc-06107

Brun became an ordained minister in 1772.  From 1772 to 1774 he served as the assistant minister at his hometown, Bynesset.  There he married Ingeborg Lind (1746-1827) in 1773, after an engagement period of twelve years.  For nearly three decades (1774-1804) Brun was the senior pastor at the Church of the Cross, Bergen.  Then, from 1804 to 1816, he served as the Bishop of Bergen.  There he died on July 26, 1816.

Brun composed hymns.  In 1786 he published Evangelical Hymns, a collection of sixty-five texts.  An excerpt from one of them follows:

Today I was my Savior’s guest,

My soul was there so richly blest,

The Bread of Life receiving.

Oh, may thereby my faith prevail,

So that its fruits shall never fail

Till my account is given

Before the throne in heaven.

–Translated by Oluf Hanson Smeby (1851-1929)

Brun was a Pietist, resisting rationalistic (Enlightenment) influences in Lutheranism.  This meant that he also disagreed with Confessional Lutheranism, which has no kind words or rational or Pietistic theology.  As for me, I am an Episcopalian, thus I have Richard Hooker’s Three-Legged Stool, which consists of scripture, tradition, and reason.  I value reason highly, thus I harbor strong rationalistic sympathies; I am more of a rationalist than a mystic.  Pietism, which in its classical form, entails a focus on personal experience, requires only the most perfunctory of shoves to become a form of works-based righteousness or of legalism; it is a heresy which infects much of Protestantism, especially the Methodist and Holiness movements and their heirs, much of Lutheranism, and, to a lesser extent, the Moravian Church.  Professor Phillip Cary argues persuasively in his Great Courses DVD series on The History of Christian Theology (2008) that:

The emotional focus, however, was not the experience of conversion but the wounds of Christ.  Thus unlike other forms of Pietism, Moravian heart religion was not a turn to inner experience but a turn to the flesh of Christ.

The Course Guidebook, page 93

Collegiality is an Anglican virtue I practice in this post.  Thus, while criticizing Brun’s theology I have no difficulty or reluctance in adding him to the Ecumenical Calendar of Saints’ Days and Holy Days.








Dear God of beauty,

you have granted literary ability and spiritual sensitivity to

Johan Nordahl Brun and others, who have composed hymn texts.

May we, as you guide us,

find worthy hymn texts to be icons,

through which we see you.

In the Name of God:  Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Sirach/Ecclesiasticus 44:1-3a, 5-15

Psalm 147

Revelation 5:11-14

Luke 2:8-20