The Myth of Malaise:
Ecumenism at the Fin de Siècle¹

William J. Cork, D.Min.

One hundred years ago European historians peered through the misty veil concealing the soon to arrive 20th century, while simultaneously casting a backward glance at the century they were leaving. Comparing their era with earlier times, they saw themselves in a unique situation, and to describe it they coined a term, fin de siècle. Literally, it only meant "end of the century"; figuratively, it captured the awareness that western civilization was changing faster than the collective psyche could adapt.

It was an age of cultural ferment and generational collision in which opposing forces of rationality and irrationality, of social progress and hereditary degeneration, of positivism and occultism, scraped together like great tectonic plates and set off earthquakes and aftershocks that culminated in the Great War and its subsequent revolutions and putsches....²

The Christian churches of Europe and America were not immune to this ferment. The optimists among them saw the sun rising on a new era of expansion and opportunity. In its golden light they saw a ripe harvest. They felt it within their power to complete in their day the task of preaching the gospel to all the world. To accomplish this, they sought new forms of cooperation between Christians; student and missionary movements called all Christians to unite for the final missionary push that would usher in the kingdom of God. The pessimists, on the other hand, saw not a sunrise, but the last swollen red sunset over a decayed and corrupted world, and consequently interpreted this rush to unity as the foreshadowing of the appearance of anti-Christ.³

Our era, too, is conscious of being a fin de siècle. Many of the dreams of a century ago were fulfilled over the past 100 years, as were some of the worst nightmares. We stand at the brink of the 21st century--not a mere turn of the century, but a new millennium. Have we learned anything about foretelling the future? Are we any better than our great-grandparents at guessing what will happen next? Will we behold in the coming century the peaceful vision of Stanley Kubrick's 2001, or the apocalyptic chaos of Hal Lindsey and his kind, marked by certain war with the Soviet Union, or Russia, or China, or Japan, or Iraq (or whomever the dragon du jour may be)?

And what of the church in our era? What are we to make of the prospects for the ecumenical movement? We live in a period of church history that has been characterized as the "winter of ecumenism," a dreary time of "malaise," "stagnation," and "impasse."⁴ It seems to be so different from the enthusiasm--and the fear--of a century ago. This attitude is summed up nicely in the words of a Canadian Anglican priest, who remarked that ecumenism simply "doesn't seem to be an issue. There is no anxiety. And there is no guilt."⁵ Some of the pundits preaching this message of malaise seek to blame one partner or another, but others see this condition as self-inflicted by institutionalized ecumenism. Consider, for example, Randall Balmer's metaphorical musings on the building housing the headquarters of the National Council of Churches in New York (a.k.a. the "God Box"):

For me, the God Box embodies the kind of theology that has emerged from Protestant ecumenism over the last four decades--cold and lifeless, without historical reference and so careful not to offend that its very blandness has become an affront. In the eyes of many Americans mainline Protestants have been so intent on blurring theological and denominational distinctives that they stand for nothing at all, aside from some vague (albeit noble) pieties like peace, justice, and inclusiveness.⁶

As may be detected by the title of this paper, I do not share this view. We have a problem, yes, but I wouldn't call it malaise. One definition of malaise is: "an indefinite feeling of debility or lack of health; a vague sense of mental or moral ill-being."⁷ I suggest there is nothing indefinite or vague about the ecumenical movement in our day; to demonstrate this, I present the following two cases.

Example 1: The ELCA 1997 Church-wide Assembly

In August 1997, the "church-wide assembly" of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America considered three ecumenical proposals. The first was a "Concordat" with the Episcopal Church that would have led to Episcopal bishops consecrating all future Lutheran bishops, with the goal of eventual "full communion" between the two churches. The second proposal sought immediate sharing of the Eucharist between ELCA Lutherans and several Reformed bodies, including the United Church of Christ, the Reformed Church in America, and the Presbyterian Church (USA). The third proposal was to ratify an international "Joint Declaration on Justification by Faith" which would reconcile Lutherans and Roman Catholics on the doctrine which sparked the Reformation.⁸

All three votes had to pass with a 2/3 majority. The vote on the Episcopal Concordat fell six votes short of passing. A vote to reconsider needed a simple majority, but failed 397 to 640. The feeling seemed to be, "Yes, the vote was close, but let's get on with life." The assembly went on to adopt (by 92.2%) a resolution calling for continued study of the issues, and another calling for continued "interim eucharistic sharing," with a revised proposal for full communion to be presented in 1999 (this passed by 98.5%). The ELCA was kinder to the Reformed; the proposal for intercommunion with them passed with 81.3% approval. And the Lutheran/Catholic Joint Declaration on Justification passed swiftly with an overwhelming vote of 958-25.⁹

The numbers alone don't do justice to the tension that was in the air. These were not half-hearted debates on peripheral issues, but were seen by all to involve central questions of the gospel and the sacraments. All those voting were in favor of unity with other Christians; the question was, on what grounds do we establish this unity--and at what cost? The Declaration on Justification passed so quickly and so easily because 1) it was the central issue for Lutherans and 2) it managed to convey in understandable language 30 years of hard-won consensus and 3) it didn't cost anything.

The proposal with the Reformed basically said, "We both believe that we receive Jesus himself in the Lord's Supper, even though we describe the 'how' of this in different ways; but we believe that the basis for intercommunion should be baptism, and common faith in Christ, not agreement on technical theological terminology." This passed because it reflected the reality experienced by Lutherans and Presbyterians at the parish level. Their churches already issue general invitations for all baptized Christians to commune. This proposal simply said, let's say officially what we're already doing in practice. And again, it didn't cost anything (or so it seemed to those voting for it).

The proposal with the Episcopalians failed, however, and it did so because it would have made Lutherans pay a steep price--they would have to concede the Episcopal view of apostolic succession, while the Episcopalians would have conceded nothing. Under the agreement, Episcopal seminarians would study the Augsburg Confession, but would not have to agree with it. And for the Lutherans, this was getting things backward. What we need is agreement on the gospel, they said; forms and ceremonies are secondary, or, in technical Lutheran terminology, they are adiaphora, things indifferent.

In addition to such theological arguments (and perhaps more significant) one must also consider all the name-calling, blame, impassioned pleas for unity and for truth, and the pontificating on both sides (and on the side-lines). For example: Duane H. Larson, professor of systematic theology at Gettysburg Seminary, attributed the failure of the Episcopal Concordat to "an orchestrated coup by a minority," and accused them of a laundry list of crimes and misdemeanors including: "mass mailing of . . . sheer pornography, straight from the pages of Penthouse magazine," "copyright infringement," "questionable professional conduct, parliamentary sleight of hand, and outright distortion, lies, and sleaze."¹⁰

I believe the word "malaise" hardly describes such a situation.

Example 2: Evangelicals and Catholics Together

The 1994 declaration, "Evangelicals and Catholics Together: The Christian Mission in the Third Millennium," heralded a new consensus, an "ecumenism of the trenches" growing out of shared experiences between Evangelicals and Catholics in the anti-abortion movement, prison ministry, and the charismatic renewal. ¹¹ Spearheaded by former Nixon "hatchet-man" Charles Colson and Catholic convert (and National Review contributing editor) Richard John Neuhaus, ECT called for cooperation in proclamation of the gospel. Nevertheless, the hearts of the framers seemed to be in a different place, for ECT devoted a mere three sentences to preaching the gospel and 51/2 pages to "the right ordering of civil society" (which it defined as a market economy, Americanism, and regulation of abortion).¹² This led many critics to dismiss ECT as simply "a political alliance" between religious Republicans.¹³ The authors quickly dismissed the objection as "nonsense,"¹⁴ but it lingers after a careful reading of both the document and commentaries by the participants on it.

For our purposes the political dimensions of the debate are not as important as ECT's claim that it wishes to find a way for Evangelicals and Catholics to preach the gospel together. Here Evangelical critics joined the battle--and J. I. Packer received the bulk of their criticism. R. C. Sproul claimed that "the Roman Catholic Church does not believe and does not teach the biblical gospel."¹⁵ John MacArthur denounced Catholic worship as "darkness and idolatry."¹⁶ And James R. White asked rhetorically, "Does the Roman Catholic gospel save?"--to which he replied, "I do not believe it can."¹⁷ In an attempt to assuage these fears, Packer reminded Evangelicals that ECT is not about cooperation with the Catholic Church, but with individuals. And Packer admitted that ECT--despite its own claims--is not really about cooperation on the gospel, but on questions of morality. Packer backpedaled so far as to say that he really affirmed as "brothers and sisters in Christ" only those individual Catholics "who do not self-consciously assent" to Catholic teaching!¹⁸

Again we must ask, does this example depict an ecumenical situation that can be referred to as "malaise"? I think not. There are clear agendas, forcefully articulated concerns, strong passions, and equally strong faith on both sides. There is too much heat to speak of "winter." But perhaps "impasse" is a word that fits. Is this a matter of semantics? No. How a problem is labeled also suggests the direction in which a solution is sought. If the problem is malaise, the question becomes how do you get people excited. If they are excited, but butting heads, the question becomes how do you get around the obstacle. ECT says, "Let's just ignore the theological issues and focus on changing the world." The Episcopal Concordat says, "Let's get the structure of the church right." The proposal on intercommunion between Lutherans and Reformed says, "Let's stop fighting and just eat." Each of these proposals has been tried in the past century--with disastrous results. Before looking forward, we need to look again at the failed initiatives of the past, to see just what went wrong.

The Birth of the Ecumenical Movement

The early ecumenical movement did not set out to be the bland and blurry creature symbolized by the "God Box." One of the catalysts of the ecumenical movement was the 1910 Edinburgh Missionary Conference, organized by Methodist layman John R. Mott ("a spiritual child of the revival movement").¹⁹ The mood of the conference is summed up in the words of an Asian delegate who said near the end:

You have sent us missionaries who have taught us to know Jesus Christ, and we thank you for that. But you have also brought us your divisions. Some of you preach Lutheranism, others Methodism, or Congregationalism, or Episcopalianism. We ask you to preach us the Gospel, and to allow Jesus Christ himself to arouse in the hearts of our peoples, by the action of his Holy Spirit, a Church which conforms to his demands . . . delivered from all the 'isms' that you have inflicted on us in your preaching of the Gospel.²⁰

Spurred on by testimonies such as this, the missionaries took to heart Jesus' prayer in John 17:20-21, "that they may all be one . . . so that the world may believe." There was a trace of naiveté in their optimism,²¹ as was typical for that era, but this was soon shattered by a devastating world war-as was the emerging ecumenical consensus.²² The movement began again in the wake of Versailles, with conferences on "Life and Work" (1925) and "Faith and Order" (1927) beginning discussions aimed at promoting social reform and resolving doctrinal disputes, respectively. Following the setbacks of another war, these three strands (missionary, Life and Work, Faith and Order) came together in 1948 to form the World Council of Churches.

When the ecumenical delegates assembled in Amsterdam in 1948, the world was still recovering from wounds inflicted by a second world war, and one of the things they had to address from the start was the failure of the ecumenical movement to speak the truth in that time of crisis. The Amsterdam report confessed that "the world has often heard from us not the Word of God but the words of men."²³ There were exceptions during those dark days, however, most notable being the 1934 "Theological Declaration of Barmen." A later WCC leader, Philip Potter, would recall this, reflecting somberly, "we have learnt [from Barmen] that we are truly churches when we are confessing churches."²⁴ The confessors of Barmen stood against the Nazification policy of the so-called Deutsche Christen. These "German Christians" saw the church as servant of the state, and imagined that God worked through historical forces and revolutions (i.e., National Socialism) as certainly as through the gospel. At the 1933 "Brown Synod," Protestant pastors pledged loyalty to Hitler (some even dressed in brown shirts with swastika armbands) and declared that Christians of Jewish ancestry were precluded from ordination.²⁵

The Barmen Declaration's response was unequivocal:

We reject the false doctrine, as though the Church could and would have to acknowledge as a source of its proclamation, apart from and besides this one Word of God, still other events and powers, figures and truths, as God's revelation. . . .

We reject the false doctrine, as though the Church were permitted to abandon the form of its message and order to its own pleasure or to changes in prevailing ideological and political convictions. . . .

We reject the false doctrine, as though the Church in human arrogance could place the Word and work of the Lord in the service of any arbitrarily chosen desires, purposes, and plans.²⁶

Ironically, there were some, like Erlangen theologian Hermann Sasse, who, while sympathetic with the confessors, opposed Barmen for many of these same reasons.²⁷ Sasse saw both Barmen and the German Christians as politically motivated "unionism" which glossed over important theological differences.²⁸ The source for both approaches he found in the Prussian Union of 1817. King Friedrich Wilhelm II commemorated the tricentennial of the Reformation by forcing the Lutheran and Reformed churches of Prussia to merge. The theological basis for the union was the pietism of Schleiermacher, who reduced religion to feeling rather than confession. This robbed the church of its voice, making it a conformist church that merely cultivated piety and civic virtue. The church thus was co-opted as the servant of the absolutist state, with the political role "to nurture a spirit of service and submission."²⁹

Such a subjectivistic, mystical piety also paved the way for National Socialism. The German world of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries was fascinated with concepts of race, mythology, and mysticism. Historian and clinical psychologist Richard Noll has demonstrated how C. G. Jung (so important to late twentieth century mystics), like Goethe, Wagner, and Nietsche before him, tapped into the same underground stream of romanticism, neopaganism and occult interests which captured the imagination of the German people, and from which National Socialism also arose. Like Goethe's Faust, fin de siècle Germany cast off the constraints of western civilization, science, reason and religion in favor of an occult world of mysticism, paganism, and eroticism. The cross had been replaced by the swastika and solar disk in German imagination long before the screams of the little corporal echoed over the torchlit stadium of Nuremberg.³⁰

The experience of the German church in these two confessional crises demonstrates the dangers of a sentimentalistic approach to truth. Subjectivism is a strong temptation when faced with a theological impasse. At times it might have a place, especially when there is an objective basis for believing that opposing viewpoints are indeed simply trying to give voice to different perspectives of the same truth. To illustrate this, I (like many others) have sometimes used the Sufi story of the elephant in the dark.³¹ But this story also has its limitations. Just because you feel something in the dark, doesn't mean it is necessarily that elephant--you might be grabbing onto something entirely different. The World War II era ecumenists failed to appreciate the dangers of such a situation. In 1934, for example, the Geneva-based World Alliance for Promoting International Friendship through the Churches (one of the predecessors of the World Council of Churches) sponsored an Ecumenical Conference in Fanø, Denmark. The Alliance officials, wary about getting entangled in "political" controversies, wanted to include representatives of both the Reichskirche and Bonhoeffer's Confessing Church-on the grounds that these were simply two different facets of German Christianity, and all perspectives should be included. Bonhoeffer was aghast. The Confessing Church was not simply a position within the German church; it was, he said, the only legitimate German church.³²

The second danger of subjectivism is the ease with which it can be manipulated to other ends. In both Prussia and in Nazi Germany, Pietism, theological Liberalism, and Romantic mysticism became the servants of an absolutist state. Because of this, Barmen insisted on a theology rooted in Scripture and revelation, which could stand over and above the state in criticism.³³ But in tracing the genesis of this protesting ideology, we make an ironic discovery. Bonhoeffer was influenced by Gandhi, who was influenced by Thoreau's "Civil Disobedience," and Thoreau, like his fellow transcendentalists, was influenced by German Romanticism, and Schleiermacher in particular!³⁴ An explanation of this curious situation can be found in the change that occurred in Romanticism when it was imported to America. Said Henry Steele Commager,

In the Old World, Transcendentalism was, for the most part, highly individualistic and deeply conservative. When it crossed the sea, it suffered a sea-change and took on a new character. . . . It was not content to assert the existence of great moral truths that transcend sensational proof-the benevolence of God, the beneficence of Nature, the divinity of Man. It insisted on translating these truths into programs, in actualizing them, in putting them to work. If Man was divine, then it was wicked that his body should be confined in slavery, his mind clouded by ignorance, his soul corrupted by superstition or by sin.³⁵

The problem, therefore, is not with subjectivism or mysticism per se. Rather, the problem lies in the ends to which it is put, and the norms or values by which it is judged.

Primacy of Confession

Philip Potter said, "We are truly churches when we are confessing churches." This may not make for a smooth road to Christian unity, but a unity arrived at through other means is not Christian. Nor, as history has repeatedly demonstrated, is it safe. It is in this light that we must criticize the Neuhaus/Colson statement, "Evangelicals and Catholics Together." The statement buries the preaching of Christ under a social agenda; in this it differs from the Marxist Sandinistas of Nicaragua only in the color of the flag with which they've draped the cross. This, as we have seen, was what happened in the Prussian Union, in the Kirchenkampf of the 1930's, and in the extremes of the Life and Work movement. ECT is doing nothing different, just making the gospel serve a different agenda.. Carter Lindberg's criticisms of the Life and Work movement "from Luther's perspective" are applicable to ECT as well: "[T]o base church unity on Christian service [or any other social agenda] is to put the cart before the horse, for it raises relative and ambiguous human activity to the level of confession of faith and reduces the confession of faith to the relativity and ambiguity of morality."³⁶

We do not need to criticize Evangelicals for being "obstinate," but need to respect this commitment to what they believe are essentials. However, we can hold their feet to the fire of their own claims, as I have just tried to do. "You criticize us for not preaching the gospel? I confess, that is true. We have sometimes been guilty of that. But can you acknowledge that you, too, have not preached the gospel?--and I'll not quote my authors to demonstrate that, but your own. Can we talk on this level about our mutual failings, and our mutual need of forgiveness?" This sort of a robust dialogue on what we believe to be central is the very thing we need. It needs to take place in the study chambers of expert commissions, and it needs to take place on the street and in our homes. And here I'll go back to Packer's reactionary comment that ECT is about cooperation between individuals. This is fine. It is perfectly in keeping with the grass-roots approach encouraged by Vatican II and recent popes. As one bishop has observed, "Historically, schisms develop in the local churches. These breaches cannot be healed from the top down; rather they must be healed locally."³⁷ Moreover, it is at the most intimate, personal level that evangelization works best, as one individual shares their story of faith with another.³⁸ Said Pope John Paul II: "People today put more trust in witnesses than in teachers, in experience than in teaching, and in life and action than in theories."³⁹

The framers of ECT have since attempted to rectify the problems with their initial statement. On 7 October 1997, a group of Catholic and evangelical theologians meeting in New York adopted a new declaration: "The Gift of Salvation." Colson and Neuhaus were again the organizers. Timothy George, introducing the statement in Christianity Today, contrasted this latest effort with the Lutheran-Catholic Joint Declaration on Justification; "this statement is not the result of an officially sponsored dialogue, but the collaborative work of individuals who speak from and to, but not for, our several communities." It does not attempt to resolve differences, but instead seeks to witness to what is shared in common-and this is what we really need.⁴⁰

New Ecumenical Approaches

Despite the talk of malaise, exciting things are happening in ecumenism today, and in surprising places. One important example is the Harvard Veritas Forum, which was founded to provide a public forum for Christians in a university setting; it aims to confront the mindset of today's secular university with the truth claims of a Christian worldview. From Harvard, the Veritas Forum has spread to many other campuses. At each Forum, Catholic and Protestant speakers from diverse disciplinary backgrounds-scientists, philosophers, artists, and musicians- "explore the truth and relevance of Jesus Christ by 'raising the hardest questions of the university, society, and the human heart.'"⁴¹ This is not really "evangelism" in the proper sense, but closer to what I might term, "pre-evangelism," in that it provides primarily an apologetic response to criticisms of Christian belief. What is unique and surprising is that the Veritas Forum brings together Evangelicals, Catholics, Orthodox, and Mainline Protestants in a common witness.

I have been working in a similar context on a project centered on common witness to the gospel itself. I have taken the traditional Catholic devotional form known as the parish mission⁴² and adapted it for the purpose of ecumenical evangelization. Experiments of a similar nature have been pursued by Thomas Ryan, C.S.P., in Canada.⁴³ Rather than start from scratch, as Ryan did, I adapted the mission format preached in Catholic churches by Isaiah Ministries, Inc.;⁴⁴ I eliminated rituals and language that would be ecumenically awkward (Eucharist, Reconciliation, and "blessings"), and substituted rituals and language that was more appropriate. The process of preparation (involving a team of a dozen members from the participating churches), mission, and follow-up seeks to follow the praxis methodology of Paulo Freire;⁴⁵ "generative themes" [unconditional love, forgiveness, healing, empowerment] are "re-presented" to the community through preaching, ritual, song and story. This reflection provides new insight into the concerns of other Christians, and calls the participants to action. Or, to borrow imagery from John Dunne and Ewert Cousins, it provides an opportunity to "cross over" into the world of other Christians, and to "return," enriched and enlightened.⁴⁶

The first "Isaiah 43:Regathering" ecumenical parish mission was presented at St. Mark's University Parish, Goleta, CA (the Newman Center for the University of California at Santa Barbara), 17-20 November 1997. Eight preachers spoke, from Roman Catholic, Antiochian Orthodox, Lutheran (ELCA), Presbyterian (PCA), Evangelical Covenant, and Episcopal churches. A different musical tradition was represented each night, including the UCSB Gospel Choir, and the choirs from Orthodox, Catholic, and charismatic churches. Ironically, the greatest enthusiasm for the event was shown by those who have not traditionally participated in ecumenical events, notably the Orthodox and the Evangelicals. The Orthodox pastor not only brought his choir, but also was the only preacher to make suggestions on the evening's format (which I eagerly incorporated). The night of largest attendance, when the church was packed, was the night the charismatic church provided music, and many of their parishioners attended. The Presbyterian (PCA) and Evangelical Covenant preachers, while unable to bring many people with them, nonetheless greeted the project with enthusiasm and gave sermons that perfectly captured the heart of the mission.

These are only two examples, but they are representative of the success that can greet ecumenical efforts that do not compromise truth for the sake of unity, but which aim instead at proclamation of what we believe in common, and mutual confession of sin. Such a vibrant ecumenical witness will dispel forever the myth of malaise, and will be a powerful force in breaking the temporary impasses that will arise. Pope John Paul II recently said,

This then is one of the tasks of Christians as we make our way to the Year 2000. The approaching end of the second millennium demands of everyone an examination of conscience and the promotion of fitting ecumenical initiatives, so that we can celebrate the Great Jubilee, if not completely united, at least much closer to overcoming the divisions of the second millennium.⁴⁷

Notes

¹A draft of this paper was presented before the Faculty/Staff Christian Forum at the University of California at Santa Barbara, 14 October 1997.

²Richard Noll, The Jung Cult: Origins of a Charismatic Movement (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), p. 27.

³See, for example, Paul Boyer, When Time Shall Be No More: Prophecy Belief in Modern American Culture (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, Belknap Press, 1992), pp. 90-100. Seventh-day Adventist prophetess Ellen G. White predicted that "The Protestants of the United States will be foremost in stretching their hands across the gulf to grasp the hand of spiritualism; they will reach over the abyss to clasp hands with the Roman power; and under the influence of this threefold union, this country will follow in the steps of Rome in trampling on the rights of conscience"; The Great Controversy Between Christ and Satan (Mountain View, CA: Pacific Press Publishing Association, 1911 [first ed. 1888]), p. 588.

⁴Those who feel this most strongly tend not to commit themselves to writing; written references are more often people questioning whether these social hour observations are accurate. See, e.g., Aram I, "The Ecumenical Movement at a Crossroads," Ecumenical Review 47 (1995):472-478; G. R. Evans, Method in Ecumenical Theology: The Lessons So Far Learned (New York: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1996); Thomas Wieser, ed., Whither Ecumenism? A Dialogue in the Transit Lounge of the Ecumenical Movement (Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1986); Geoffrey Wainwright, The Ecumenical Movement: Crisis and Opportunity for the Church (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1983).

⁵Bob Bettson, "A Retreat from Former Uniting Role," United Church Observer (February 1986), p. 43, cited by Thomas Ryan, A Survival Guide for Ecumenically Minded Christians (Ottawa: Novalis; Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1989), p. 23.

⁶Randall Balmer, Grant Us Courage: Travels Along the Mainline of American Protestantism (New York: Oxford University Press, 1996), p. 148.

⁷Webster's Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary (Springfield, MA: Merriam-Webster, Inc., 1986).

⁸ "1997 ELCA Ecumenical Proposals"

⁹ "ELCA Current News Releases"  See also such post-Assembly comments as: Richard E. Koenig, "The ELCA Assembly: Now and Not Yet," Christian Century 114 (10-17 September 1997):780-82; John Reumann, "Justification by Faith: The Lutheran-Catholic Convergence," Christian Century 114 (22 October 1997):942-46; Richard John Neuhaus, "Here I Stand. And Here, and Here: The ELCA in Assembly," First Things #78 (December 1997):71-74.

¹⁰Duane H. Larson, "Editorial Comment: What Happened at Philadelphia?" Lutheran Theological Seminary Bulletin 76/77 (Fall 1997):5. Larson even had the effrontery to suggest that his opponents bone up on Luther's explanation of the 8th commandment [which says that "we should not tell lies about our neighbor, nor betray, slander, or defame him, but should apologize for him, speak well of him, and interpret charitably all that he does." "Small Catechism," The Book of Concord, ed. by Theodore G. Tappert (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1959), p. 343]!

¹¹Charles Colson and Richard John Neuhaus, eds., Evangelicals and Catholics Together: Toward a Common Mission (Dallas: Word Publishing, 1995), pp. x-xi, 30 ["Evangelicals and Catholics Together" was first published in First Things #43 (May 1994):15-22].

¹²Ibid., pp. 15, xxii-xxviii.

¹³And this is not just a criticism from the left. See James R. White, The Roman Catholic Controversy (Minneapolis: Bethany House, 1996), p. 223.

¹⁴Evangelicals and Catholics Together, pp. 2, 178.

¹⁵John H. Armstrong, ed., The Coming Evangelical Crisis: Current Challenges to the Authority of Scripture and the Gospel (Chicago: Moody Press, 1996), p. 114.

¹⁶Ibid., p. 180.

¹⁷White, The Roman Catholic Controversy, p. 221.

¹⁸Packer, in Evangelicals and Catholics Together, pp. 165, 167, 157-159.

¹⁹See Ruth Rouse and Stephen Charles Neill, eds., A History of the Ecumenical Movement: 1517-1948, 2nd ed. (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1967), pp. 356ff; Kenneth Scott Latourette, A History of the Expansion of Christianity, Reprint ed., Contemporary Evangelical Perspectives (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1970), 4:106;; 7:27-29.

²⁰Yves Congar, Ecumenism and the Future of the Church (Chicago: Priory Press, 1967), pp. 57-58.

²¹Paul Bock, "Protestant Hopes for the Twentieth Century," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 27 (1990):237-260.

²²Richard V. Pierard, "John R. Mott and the Rift in the Ecumenical Movement during World War I," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 23 (1986):601-620.

²³First Assembly of the World Council of Churches, pp. 9-10.

²⁴Philip Potter, "Barmen--an Ecumenical Response," Ecumenical Review 36 (1984):421-423.

²⁵A Testament to Freedom: The Essential Writings of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, edited by Geoffrey B. Kelly and F. Burton Nelson (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1990), pp. 18, 409ff.

²⁶ "Theological Declaration of Barmen," 1, 3, 6; in J. Gordon Melton, ed., American Religious Creeds (New York: Triumph Books, 1991), I:249-51.

²⁷Sasse in fact had cooperated with Bonhoeffer in drafting the 1933 Bethel confession, which took a much stronger stand against the Reich's Jewish policy. But their draft was subsequently defanged. Testament to Freedom, pp. 17-18.

²⁸Hermann Sasse, We Confess the Church, We Confess Series (St. Louis: Concordia, 1986), p. 53.

²⁹The Encyclopedia of the Lutheran Church, s.v., "Unionism" (Minneapolis: Augsburg Publishing House, 1965); John E. Groh, Nineteenth Century German Protestantism: The Church as Social Model (Washington: Univ. Press of America, 1982), p. 10; Nicholas Hope, German and Scandinavian Protestantism, 1700-1918 (New York: Oxford Univ. Press, 1995), pp. 322, 337ff; Robert H. Bigler, The Politics of German Protestantism: The Rise of the Protestant Church Elite in Prussia, 1815-1848 (Berkeley: Univ. of California Press, 1972), pp. 13, 162ff, 262-263.

³⁰See Richard Noll, The Aryan Christ: The Secret Life of Carl Jung (New York: Random House, 1997), esp. pp.114-115, 264; and The Jung Cult, pp. 25-39, 98, 127-28, 135.

³¹One version appears in Idries Shah, The Sufis (New York: Doubleday, 1964), pp. 40-41.

³²Testament to Freedom, pp. 32, 146-155, 427-431.

³³A similar appeal to an objective norm as the guarantor of individual freedom in the face of totalitarianism was made more recently by John Paul II, in his 1993 encyclical Veritatis Splendor (98-101); in Origins 23 (October 14, 1993):326-327.

³⁴Testament to Freedom, pp. 23-24; Mohandas K. Gandhi, Non-Violent Resistance (New York: Schocken Books, 1961), pp. 3-4.

³⁵Henry Steele Commager, Theodore Parker (Gloucester, MA: Peter Smith, 1978), p. viii.

³⁶Carter Lindberg, "Luther's Critique of the Ecumenical Assumption that Doctrine Divides but Service Unites," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 27 (1990):696.

³⁷Nicholas J. Samra, "Healing the Church of Antioch: The Greek-Melkite Initiative," Catholic Near East 23, no. 3 (May-June 1997): 21-25.

³⁸See, e.g., Robert J. Hater, "Distinctive Qualities of Catholic Evangelization," in Kenneth Boyack, ed., New Catholic Evangelization (New York: Paulist Press, 1992), pp. 15-16.

³⁹John Paul II, Redemptoris Missio 42; in Origins 20 (31 January 1991):554-568.

⁴⁰ "Evangelicals and Catholics Together: A New Initiative," Christianity Today 41 (8 December 1997): 34-38.

⁴¹Kelly Monroe, ed., Finding God at Harvard: Spiritual Journeys of Thinking Christians (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Publishing House, 1996), pp. 355-57.

⁴²The parish mission was developed in the post-Reformation era as a tool for catechesis and spiritual renewal; it has traditionally included an impressive mix of spectacle, song, and preaching. See esp. Jay P. Dolan, Catholic Revivalism: The American Experience, 1830-1900 (Notre Dame: Univ. of Notre Dame Press, 1978).

⁴³Ryan has written about his experiences in a number of places: Thomas Ryan, "Ecumenical Parish Missions," Ecumenism #105 (March 1992):13-16; "Ecumenical Parish Missions," Journal of Paulist Studies 4 (1995-96):129-137; see also Ryan's "Information Kit," available from the Canadian Centre for Ecumenism, 2065 Ouest, Rue Sherbrooke, Montreal, Quebec, H3H 1G6.

⁴⁴For further information, contact Walt Campbell, Mission Coordinator, Isaiah Ministries, Inc., 404 Abbeyridge Court, Ocoee FL 34761.

⁴⁵See Paulo Freire, The Pedagogy of the Oppressed, rev. ed. (New York: Continuum, 1996).

⁴⁶John Dunne, The Way of All the Earth: Experiments in Truth and Religion (New York: Macmillan, 1972), p. ix; Ewert H. Cousins, Christ of the 21st Century (Rockport, MA: Element, Inc., 1992), pp. 84, 96, 107, 114.

⁴⁷John Paul II, Tertio Millennio Adveniente 34 (Boston: Pauline Books and Media, 1994).