Re-Formed Catholic Anglicanism. Edited by Charles F. Camlin, Charles D. Erlandson, and Joshua L. Harper. Anglican Way Institute, 2024. 478 pp. $29.99 (paper).
In a recent review of the Nashotah House Press edition of Bishop A. P. Forbes’s Explanation of the Thirty-Nine Articles, Gerald McDermott describes Forbes as “reformed catholic.” A critical response to this characterization of Forbes can be found elsewhere, but even aside from one review written by one man, it remains an active question how the term “reformed catholic” should be understood with regard to the Anglican tradition. This is evidenced by the title of a new collection of essays on Anglicanism published by the Anglican Way Institute of the Reformed Episcopal Church (REC), Re-Formed Catholic Anglicanism. The purpose of this book—as stated by Ray R. Sutton, Presiding Bishop of the REC—is to give an answer to the question of what Anglicanism is: “This book answers the question with the phrase Re-formed Catholic Anglicanism” (2), hence the title. Part I gives an overview of the Anglican tradition, with chapters devoted to topics such as the Book of Common Prayer, the Thirty-nine Articles, the sacraments, and so on. Part II is devoted to “luminaries of the tradition” such as John Jewel, Richard Hooker, Lancelot Andrewes, John Donne, and many others besides.
Given the variety of contributors, it cannot be said that they all speak in unison about the nature of Anglicanism. Nonetheless, much of the book manifests a noticeable tilt toward Anglo-Catholicism. This becomes apparent early on, with most of the authors responsible for Part I evincing it. Bishop Sutton lays the groundwork for this tendency in his Introduction, explaining what it means for “reformed catholic Anglicanism” to be truly catholic. An important element of catholicity, he says, is “the authoritative place of the ancient ecumenical councils” (14). Specifically, he maintains there are seven general councils that are ecumenically binding on all Christians, rather than four or six, as Anglicans have traditionally held. In support of this contention that adherence to seven ecumenical councils has precedent in traditional Anglicanism, Sutton cites Richard Field’s multi-volume Of the Church and Archbishop Laud’s A Relation of the Conference between William Laud and Mr. Fisher the Jesuit. It is worth focusing on and responding to this particular argument by Sutton for at least two reasons: first, as mentioned above, Sutton is the Presiding Bishop for what is one of the preeminent traditionalist Anglican jurisdictions in America. As such, he is an authority figure to whom many look for guidance. Second, the argument that there are seven ecumenical councils is a cornerstone of Anglo-Catholicism, with the seventh council—that is, the Second Council of Nicaea—informing such practices as image veneration and invocation of the saints, both of which are ruled out by a plain reading of Article XXII. Sutton’s stated justification for the belief in seven ecumenical councils—and, by extension, Anglo-Catholicism under another name—thus warrants scrutiny, resting as it purportedly does on prominent figures in the classical Anglican tradition.
Sutton begins by noting that, according to Field, there are some general councils of such a nature that “whosoever admitted them not, though he seem to be a stone elect and precious, yet he lieth beside the foundation and out of the building” (14). In other words, one who does not accept these councils is not truly a Christian. He then quotes Field as saying, “Of this sort there are only six.” However, Sutton goes on to say, “He means that the first six are doctrinal” (14) rather than having to do with “manners” (15), invoking a distinction Field draws between these six general councils and subsequent ones. Concerning the Second Council of Nicaea, Sutton observes that Field speaks of “our adversaries,” who “confess there may be something inconveniently prescribed, and so as to be the occasion of great and grievous evils.” Sutton then suggests that the “adversaries” Field refers to here “probably would have been the growing iconoclastic Puritan party in England” (15). Sutton therefore implies that in discussing the Second Council of Nicaea, Field seeks to defend it against Puritan critics. The Council is important to Field, Sutton claims, for “distinguishing ‘religious adoration and the worshipping of pictures’”:
He does offer the caution that the council “may seem to have given some occasion and to have opened the way unto that gross idolatry which afterwards entered the Church.” Nevertheless, he does not reject the council as ecumenical. Furthermore, he does not by endorsing this council as ecumenical eschew the appropriate Biblical use of symbols and their being reverenced without worshipping them (i.e., the Temple as an example). This was the very point of the Seventh Ecumenical Council. (15)
Sutton closes as follows: “The learned Anglican theologian concludes by recognizing all seven ecumenical councils saying, ‘So that there are but Seven General Councils that the whole Church acknowledgeth called to determine faith and manners’” (15).
Every part of this argument crumbles on a closer reading of Field. While Field does draw a distinction between doctrine, i.e., “faith,” and “manners” as possible subject matter for general councils, when he says “of this sort there are only six,” he does not simply mean that the six general councils commonly accepted to be ecumenical are doctrinal in nature. Rather, as should be apparent from his comparing those who do not accept them to stones “out of the building,” Field means that these six councils alone are necessary to be believed by all Christians. A fuller quotation of Field makes this plain:
Concerning the general councils of this sort that hitherto have been holden, we confess that in respect of the matter about which they were called, so nearly and essentially concerning the life and soul of the Christian faith, and in respect of the manner and form of their proceeding, and the evidence of proof brought in them, they are, and ever were, expressly to be believed by all such as perfectly understand the meaning of their determination. And that therefore it is not to be marvelled at if Gregory profess that he honoureth the first four councils as the four Gospels; and that whosever admitteth them not, though he seem to be a stone elect and precious, yet he lieth beside the foundation, and out of the building. Of this sort there are only six.[1]
Logically speaking, for the Second Council of Nicaea not to be included in the category of councils Field describes here means that it is not “expressly to be believed by all such as perfectly understand the meaning of [its] determination,” which is to say that the Council is not ecumenically binding. Moreover, when Field invokes “our adversaries” with reference to the Council, there is no reason to suspect he has Puritans in mind. To the contrary, in Of the Church’s fourth volume, throughout Chapters 48‒50—wherein Field discusses various topics pertaining to general councils before coming to the question of which councils are ecumenical—he repeatedly addresses “the Papists” and otherwise indicates that he is writing against the Church of Rome.[2] Indeed, the epistle dedicatory for the first volume of the work names “the Church of Rome”[3] as his polemical opponent, never once mentioning or alluding to the Puritans. Sutton himself notes that Field’s purpose in writing Of the Church was “defending the English Church against Roman apologists” (14). Why, then, he proceeds to speculate that Field is suddenly invoking the Puritans when the subject of the Second Council of Nicaea comes up is a complete mystery. Field’s choice of words in broaching the topic weighs against Sutton’s interpretation as well: “Our adversaries confess there may be something inconveniently prescribed, and so as to be the occasion of great and grievous evils.”[4] The Puritans would not have been so reluctant as only to “confess” that there “may” have been something “inconveniently prescribed” at the Second Council of Nicaea, but rather would have eagerly and wholeheartedly condemned it as promoting idolatry. Field’s language points, again, to the Church of Rome.
Finally, contra Sutton’s assertion that Field values the Council for “distinguishing ‘religious adoration and the worshipping of pictures,’” Field does not oppose “religious adoration” and “the worshipping of pictures” to one another, with the former being good and the latter being bad. Rather, he treats them both as something the Council was right to “condemn,” which becomes clear if he is quoted in full, rather than in snippets:
The seventh [general council], which is the second of Nice, was not called about any question of faith, but of manners; in which our adversaries confess there may be something inconveniently prescribed, and so as to be the occasion of great and grievous evils; and surely that is our conceit of the seventh general council, the second of Nice, for howsoever it condemn the religious adoration and worshipping of pictures, and seem to allow no other use of them but that which is historical, yet in permitting men by outward signs of reverence and respect towards the pictures of saints to express their love towards them, and the desire they have of enjoying their happy society, and in condemning so bitterly such as upon dislike of abuses wished there might be no pictures in the Church at all, it may seem to have given occasion, and to have opened the way unto that gross idolatry which afterwards entered into the Church.[5]
Field’s attitude toward the Council is ambivalent—he maintains that it ostensibly taught nothing other than “that which is historical,”[6] but he also holds that the Council has “given occasion” for “gross idolatry.” From these statements alone, it would be difficult to discern Field’s concrete position on the veneration/adoration/reverencing of images, but he elaborates on this topic elsewhere in Of the Church—to be precise, he rejects the “popish distinction of latria and doulia”[7] and holds that even veneration of the saints is inappropriate:
We adore them not, but rest in the judgment of the same Augustine, that the saints are to be honoured for imitation, but not to be adored for religion; that they do not seek, desire, or accept any such honour, but will have us to worship God only, being glad that we are their fellow-servants in well-doing. The Romanist evasion, that God is only to be adored with that highest kind of religious worship which is named latria, which yieldeth to him that is worshipped infinite greatness; but the saints may be adored with an inferior kind of religious worship, named doulia, is directly contrary to Augustine.[8]
Therefore, even if Field is correct to say that the Council’s teaching comports with historical practice (which is dubious), he cannot rightly be claimed in support of the Anglo-Catholic acceptance of latria and dulia. More broadly, he in no way endorses the Second Council of Nicaea or puts it on equal footing with the first six general councils. As for Sutton’s attempt to enlist Laud as an ally in defense of seven ecumenical councils, little needs to be said. Laud does indeed speak of “unerring Councils” that have “the written Word of God for warrant, either in express letter or necessary sense and deduction.”[9] He does not, however, specify which councils he deems to fall under this category. Yet Sutton infers that, “putting his comments together with Richard Field, these were the seven ecumenical councils” (15). It should not need to be said this is a tour de force of eisegesis.
The import of the above, somewhat lengthy excursus on one particular argument made in Re-Formed Catholic Anglicanism is this: in setting the stage for the rest of the volume, the Bishop attempts to support a peculiar (Anglo-Catholic) understanding of the term “reformed catholic” by appealing to two figures in the classical Anglican tradition. As we have seen, his arguments do not withstand close scrutiny, casting a shadow over subsequent, comparable attempts to reinterpret the Anglican tradition that occur throughout the pages that follow. Readers will have to judge for themselves whether these latter arguments fare any better than Sutton’s. Having said all this, there is much to appreciate in the chapters that make up Part II. As the Anglican tradition lacks a singular fountainhead comparable to Luther or Calvin, it is a formidable task to learn about the many divines who have contributed in various ways to the Anglican theological and spiritual patrimony. These chapters shine a spotlight on many august, yet often little-known, figures in the tradition, providing informative and insightful explorations of their chosen subjects. Some chapters continue to push the Anglo-Catholic angle, but this tendency is less pronounced overall in Part II.
To summarize, numerous chapters in this book—mostly in Part I, but some in Part II as well—explicate the Anglican tradition as it is conceived by a very particular subset of professing Anglicans. As an illuminating presentation of what this subset believes, I highly recommend it. For a normative account of Anglicanism, however, I strongly encourage potential readers to look elsewhere—the general thrust of this project may be “re-formed,” but it is not “reformed” as that term has historically been understood, not even in a broadly non-Calvinist but still Protestant sense.[10] Insofar as this volume purports to represent the views of the Reformed Episcopal Church writ large—having been published by an organization within that church’s purview—there appears to be little that might prevent the REC from merging with the so-called Continuing Anglican churches. It seems likely, however, that much of the book does not speak for many congregations in the REC. If this is so, it is to be hoped that they will stand firm in their truly reformed catholic heritage, even as they celebrate the parts of this book that honor it verily.
Notes
- Richard Field, Of the Church, vol. IV (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1852), 60‒61. ↑
- Field, Of the Church, vol. IV, 6, 8, 10‒12, 18. ↑
- Richard Field, Of the Church, vol. I (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1847), xx. ↑
- Field, Of the Church, vol. IV, 61, italics mine. ↑
- Field, Of the Church, vol. IV, 61. ↑
- See also Field, Of the Church, vol. I, 228. ↑
- Field, Of the Church, vol. I, 227. ↑
- Field, Of the Church, vol. I, 234. ↑
- William Laud, A Relation of the Conference between William Laud and Mr. Fisher the Jesuit, in Anglicanism, ed. Paul Elmer More and Frank Leslie Cross (Cambridge: James Clarke & Co., 2008), 109. ↑
- Most contributors to this volume use the term “re-formed” rather than “reformed” to characterize their viewpoint, which means readers are less likely to be confused by the thought that authors are using a term associated with Protestantism to promote an Anglo-Catholic vision. However, Sutton writes in the Introduction that “different phrases such as reformed catholic, re-formed catholic, re-formed catholicism, re-formed catholic anglicanism…all reflect the English Reformation project known as Reformed Catholicism” (2), thereby reinforcing the (incorrect) notion that this book accurately captures the English Reformation in all its substance. ↑
'Book Review: Re-Formed Catholic Anglicanism' have 8 comments
November 25, 2024 @ 9:37 pm Jonah M. Saller
The characteristic of Angl0-Catholicism as “a particular subset” while speaking of other expressions as “normative” is strange and not congruent with reality. Anglo-Catholicism is on the rise because it is biblical, historic, and stands firm in the apostolic deposit. Reformed Anglicanism is dying because it stands upon the 39 Articles as a infallible document and refuses to recognize Anglicanism as anything bigger than the 16th century and its interpretation of Scripture. No tradition grounded like this can survive. I strongly disagree with this review. I think it is exactly what the Anglican world needs and represents the tradition as whole, without picking and choosing.
November 26, 2024 @ 11:47 am Connor Perry
Well, regardless of your point, Sutton isn’t exactly proving Anglo-Catholicism to be particularly robust at arguing for itself with his eisegesis of the sources clearly shown in the above.
And reformed Anglicans don’t think the articles are infallible—they do believe as long as they are a stated authority they should be adhered to, unless, of course, one thinks them to be heretical and is bound by conscience to defy that authority, which would be a remarkably Protestant thing to do.
December 3, 2024 @ 8:58 am Jonah M. Saller
I think this is fair. We certainly need to maintain historical honesty and recognize that what many Angl0-Catholics are promoting stands against some of the more explicit 16th-century theology. This isn\’t a problem if what we promote is true. It simply needs to be acknowledged, with a failure to do so being—as you said—eisegetical historical revision.
November 26, 2024 @ 12:18 pm Keith Eash
I don’t see the difference between the words re-formed or reformed. Play on words which Anglicans do as an heretical church. Just like anglo-Catholic or Anglo Catholic. A play on words. Trying to salve the wounds of schism that they brought on themselves. Don’t claim Catholicism until you reunite with Rome as Roman Catholic Anglican Practicing.
November 26, 2024 @ 11:40 pm Jimmy
Surprise, it’s James Clark mudslinging upon Orthodox Anglicanism yet again. It seems he would prefer us in bondage to two decades of the 16th century under a paper popery (cough, the Infallible Formularies of Cranmer et. al.) that somehow was more correct and authoritative than both the undivided Church of the first 1,000 years as well as all the reforms within Anglicanism that happened during the 18th-21st centuries, starting with the Caroline Divines and continue through today with Re-formed Catholic Anglicanism.
An honestly astounding piece. He writes-off McDermott’s review as “one review written by one man.” Thankfully, we of more sound thought and coherent logic can similarly write-off Clark’s inane drivel as “one review written by one man.” Historical revisionism at its finest, such as displayed here by Clark, is as malicious as it is hysterical. I, for one, dear reader, spontaneously chuckled at his use of the term “Normative Anglicanism”. Imagine: describing a religious tradition replete with novel doctrinal leanings that did not exist until the 16th century as “normative”. Hilarity at its finest, and for that, we must thank Mr. Clark who, although he did not intellectually stimulate and edify us today, did entertain us.
November 27, 2024 @ 3:39 am Gerry T. Neal
1. That there are seven ecumenical councils is a matter of historical fact. To claim otherwise is to simply be wrong. If Anglicans have traditionally maintained that there are only four or six than Anglicans have traditionally been wrong and owe the Oxford Movement a debt of gratitude for correcting this error.
2. Iconoclasm is hardly essential to Protestantism. When Karlstadt introduced it in Wittenberg while Dr. Luther was hiding in Wartburg Castle after the Diet of Worms, Dr. Luther came out of hiding to oppose it!
3. John Calvin\’s iconoclasm was John Calvin at his worst as far as scholarship goes. His claim in the first book of his Institutes that churches were without sacred images for the first five centuries is wrong. While subsequent archaeology has done much to show just how wrong Calvin was that he was wrong was information available in the sixteenth century to anyone who bothered to pay close attention to Eusebius. His remarks on the seventh ecumenical council in the fourth book of his Institutes show that his research was incredibly sloppy when it came to this matter. He maintained, on the basis of its agreeing with his prejudices, that the iconoclastic council was the genuine council rather than Second Nicaea even though he got both its location and the emperor who convened it wrong.
4. The distinction made by St. John of Damascus, the Second Council of Nicaea, and Theodore the Studite was between latreia and proskynesis. Proskynesis means to bow the knee, or more literally to kiss, as an act of respect. It can be an act of latreia, which is the worship reserved for deity, but it does not have to be. As St. John of Damascus pointed out, acts of this sort were offered to all sorts of people and objects throughout the Old Testament, without a hint that worship appropriate for a deity was being offered or that anything was being done wrong. The distinction is much clearer in the language in which it was originally made, than in Western languages. Indeed, its being bungled in translation goes back to the very beginning. Hadrian I ordered the acts of the Second Council of Nicaea translated into Latin, and the translator botched the job and had the council say that icons were to be given the same kind of worship a the Trinity. This is the opposite of what was actually said, but the bad translation was one of several factors that turned the otherwise non-iconoclastic Charlemagne against the Second Council of Nicaea leading to the commissioning of the Caroline Books. This incident is one that is used to back the false claim that the Second Council of Nicaea was not received as ecumenical in the West. The Franks\’ rejection of it was temporary and based on a misunderstanding. Second Nicaea was firmly accepted as ecumenical in both East and West long before the Great Schism. The inability to express its decisions properly in Western languages has persisted, however. Dulia (doulia) has never been a good substitute for proskynesis. Adoration, once a synonym for latria (latreia), is now a far more general term. English has gone the opposite direction of Latin. Worship, at one time a general term of respect or honour, is now in ordinary usage a term for that which is due to God alone.
5. Iconoclasm is based on bad theology. In Deuteronomy 4 it is stressed that at Mt. Horeb (Sinai) the Israelites heard a voice but did not see a similitude, ((v. 12) and that for this reason they should be careful not to make a graven image (vv. 15-19). Clearly not all image making was prohibited. The entire Tabernacle was to be made in accordance with the pattern of the Heavenly Tabernacle of which Moses was given a vision. The ark was to have images of cherubim on the mercy seat. It was the form, likeness, or similitude of God that the Israelites had not seen and they were not to make an image of God. The prohibition of making any image of any created thing in heaven, on earth, or in the sea, therefore, does not prohibit the making of pictures for decorative or educational purposes, but the marking of them for worship. The image of a created thing cannot adequately represent God. Jesus changed that. To say otherwise, is to deny in practice and effect, the Incarnation. God had created an image of Himself, after His likeness, in creation, and that created image of God was man. Moreover, the New Testament in a number of places declares the Son to be the image of the Father. When the Son, Who in His eternal Person has always been the image of His Father, took into His eternal Person the nature of the created image of God, it was no longer the case that \”ye heard the words of the voice, but saw no similitude\” but was now \”And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth.\” That which has now been seen can be depicted.
6. The Second Council of Nicaea did not \”inform\” the practice of invocation of the saints. It was accepted by both sides in the Iconoclastic Controversies of the eight and ninth centuries.
7. The Puritan iconoclasm of the seventeenth century testifies to the fact that Article XXII does not require a reading that rejects the Second Council of Nicaea as ecumenical. It was the Church of England of the Elizabethan Settlement, of the Thirty-Nine Articles, that the Puritans believed to be intolerably idolatrous. If Article XXII supports iconoclasm there should have been no icons left for the Puritans to smash. Despite the Puritans\’ paranoid rhetoric about how Archbishop Laud and King Charles I were trying to bring popery back into England, all they were really trying to do was to insist that the Church adhere to what had been settled upon in the Elizabethan era.
November 27, 2024 @ 11:42 am Bill
Good review. Don’t let the angry comments get to you. “Anglicans” of the crypto-papist variety tend to have poor reading comprehension (just look at Tract 90!), so they’re probably not even angry at what you wrote, but at some distorted caricature of your review that only exists in their mind’s eye.
December 2, 2024 @ 12:58 pm Jonah M. Saller
Why does “Anglican with an emphasis on historical and catholic continuity with the early church” translate as “crypto-papist” to your kind of Anglican? When has history ever been static as you and the author propose? When have we ever looked at a particular expression of the Church in a particular century and argued that all matters of faith and doctrine are settled there, propping that moment of history up over and against the larger catholic voice, councils, and consensus?
If I am a crypto-papist for believing that the Articles form a lesser authority than the Councils and teachings of the ancient fathers, so be it. I would much rather be in continuity with the Church of all ages than with a static moment in history propped up as the final say on all truth.