A well-oiled communion

Late this summer I went to Mass in small-town Ontario, after being warned that the service at the local Christian Reformed Church (CRC) would probably be long due to a baptism. It turned out that the Catholic church had a baptism that day as well. The coincidence gave me food for thought. Baptism is, after all, what unites Roman Catholics and Protestants. Surely, a friendly word, a prayer or a greeting card to the other congregation would not have been amiss?

For quite a while now I have tried to develop my own ideas about how ecumenical relations might be improved. I live ecumenical tensions on a daily basis and have done so all my adult life. First I did so as a troubled student feeling pulled towards the Catholic church, later as a staffer at the Dutch military chaplaincy and presently as husband to a CRC pastor in a turbulent work environment. In fact, my wife Brenda became an elder this summer and is now figuring out what that means, which I find exciting.

Our life together has taught me more than theology ever could. Most of modern theology is hopelessly impractical when it comes to the denominational differences people and local congregations live with. It seems to me that at this crucial moment in history, Christians have become unable to explain how our different church traditions relate to each other, and that’s a huge problem. Every local congregation does its own thing. Some people blame church leadership, often rightly, but I think the issue is far broader than that.

Christ’s scattered people

Often enough, my reflections lead me beyond the established positions of the Catholic church. I hold on to belief in the real presence, the apostolic succession and the necessity of the one communion led by the Successor of Peter. Still, our family experience has taught me that Protestant callings are true callings, and that Protestant celebrations of the Lord’s Supper are true celebrations, creating communion with the body and blood of Christ. This I believe because the Lord is faithful and nourishes his people even though they are scattered. And I also notice that Christ’s presence in the Word – this is a shared belief – is generally better appreciated in Protestant communities.

Earlier generations of ecumenists focused on theology and on similarities, but I believe it is time to explore practical ways of being united and cherishing the distinctiveness of our different Christian communities. For an example, let’s look at oil.

The Catholic church uses sacred oils in its ministry: at the beginning of the life of faith, near death, and at transition points such as baptism. The Holy Chrism used at baptism is olive oil mixed with perfume, blessed and breathed over by the bishop in a solemn ceremony involving the whole diocese. Some Protestant communities participate in Ash Wednesday; could they consider participating in this celebration as well? Oil is a biblical sign of our royal calling and our common priesthood in the Spirit. It tells us we can face the world and all its evils.

Of course, differences and difficulties remain. Catholics hold on to the lasting sacredness of blessed things, believing the sacramental sign is not empty. By contrast, Protestants object to treating created things as holy for fear of lapsing into magic – an enchanted world.

Meanwhile, my daughter Lydia happily walks around with a bag of leftover communion bread on Sundays, which for me is a reminder that all theological knowledge is provisional and too often grounded on fears and lack of trust. So I think our mutual attitudes can be relaxed, for the purpose of creating a well-oiled, grace-filled communion.