Response to a Book Review of “Re-Formed Catholic Anglicanism”

This article is a response to Mr. James Clark’s November 24, 2024, book review of Re-Formed Catholic Anglicanism (eds. Charles Camlin, Charles Erlandson, & Joshua Harper, Dallas: Anglican Way Institute Press, 2024), in the North American Anglican. Unfortunately, Mr. Clark never actually reviewed the book! Instead, he focused on a subpoint of a subpoint in my Introduction. The subpoint was on the Ecumenical Councils. The further subpoint was on the Seventh Ecumenical Council where I briefly summarize, via the writing of Richard Field, On the Church, Five Books (1606), the English Reformation’s at least tacit acceptance of the council. Therefore, since Mr. Clark did not explain in any detail nor interact with the main point of my Introduction, nor of the book, I would like to respond by clarifying the fuller context. After all, it was the context of my subpoint on the Ecumenical Councils.

The Main Point of the Introduction and the Book

First by way of response, my Introduction defines the Re-Formed Catholic Anglican model of the English Reformers of the 16^th-17^th centuries, since the English Reformation lasted well over a century. I use the word “reformed” in the sense of “re-form.” The distinction is important. I argue that the English Reformers were attempting to “re-form” the English Church based on the Scriptures, and the early church fathers, creeds, and councils of the Undivided Church of the first millennium. They were not endeavoring to create a new church or theology that was different from the ancient one. They were not “reformed” in the sense that other Protestants of the Reformation intended the word without the hyphen, nor without the other adjective “catholic” adjacent to it, nor even as later second-generation reformers turned the word into a “noun” (i.e. “Reformed”) without any adjectival qualifiers.

To develop this thesis, I start by presenting faulty definitions of Anglicanism. The first is a via media (Middle Way) meaning of the word as a midpoint between two arbitrary polarities. The second insufficient explanation of Anglicanism is Reformed Anglican without the word “catholic,” as in the Undivided Church intent of the term and not “Roman Catholic.” Then I proceed to advance the “Re-Formed Catholic Anglican” interpretation of Anglicanism by appealing to the English Reformers themselves with their standards, the Word of God and the early church fathers, creeds, and councils, to return to the Ancient Church.

Concerning the inadequate definition of the English Reformation as a middle way between Rome and Protestantism, I point out that via media was never intended to be a theological (nor liturgical) definition of Anglicanism in quite that sense. Instead, it was Queen Elizabeth’s political model for uniting the nation divided by those who wanted to remain Roman Catholic and those who had embraced the Protestant Reformation. Politically speaking, it’s true that the English Reformation was somewhere between those two polarities.

The problem is, however, that attempts to find a theological midpoint for definition with the political model become subjective and arbitrary. Scholars who use via media to define Anglicanism pick and choose various writers to set the midpoint between Wittenberg and Geneva (Luther and Calvin), Anabaptism and Rome (the only two extremes rejected in the Thirty-Nine Articles), Geneva and Rome, and Puritanism and Roman Catholicism. And since English Reformers (i.e. Richard Hooker) didn’t actually use the term to mean somewhere in the middle of Rome and Protestantism, instead defining it other ways, a vagueness is left for those in later English history to apply via media to other ends of a continuum. They refer to the middle way between Latitudinarian (denial of the creeds) and credal in the 18^th century, Evangelical and Anglo Catholic in the 19^th century, and even liberal and conservative in the 20^th and 21^st centuries. Via media is therefore an imprecise way for determining the meaning of Anglicanism and leaves it without clear definition.

Regarding the Reformed Anglican approach to Anglicanism, I critique the problem of using the adjective “reformed” without the other one, “catholic,” in the sense intended by the English Reformers. Their overarching slogan during their part of the Reformation was ad fontes, meaning back to the sources. Their sources for reforming, better re-forming, the Church of England were the Scriptures, the early church fathers, the ancient creeds (Nicene, Apostles, and Athanasian), the seven ecumenical councils, and the Undivided Catholic Church. It is in this sense that they used the word “catholic” as opposed to “Roman Catholic.” The ancient derivation of the word “catholic” was probably from a Greek prepositional phrase, kata holos, meaning “according to the whole.” Hence, “catholicus,” as we hear in the initial phrase reduced to “catholic” was the “universal Church.” But not in the sense of “all believers,” as the word “universal” has become popularly understood. Rather, the original meaning was the “universal visible Church in the whole world.” It was the Undivided Catholic Church until the 1054 split between the Eastern and Western parts of it, and before the Western Church co-opted the word “catholic” for its half of the Roman Church.

Thus, I noted that those who remove the word catholic, as properly understood by the English Reformers to mean the historic “Undivided Catholic Church” prior to 1054, reduce the definition of Anglicanism to “Reformed” in an exclusively 16^th century Protestant direction without the ancient catholic context for understanding how English Reformers even understood the word “Protestant.” For example, “Protestant” initially meant, “pro” as in “for,” to “testify,” for reforms of the late Medieval Roman Catholic Church. The standards for these “Protestant” reforms were the Scriptures and the early, Undivided Catholic Church. Protestant did not originally mean “against,” and certainly the term was not nascently intended to imply a separate church by that name without defining it as historically catholic in a pre-Roman Catholic sense.

Furthermore, the Reformed Anglican approach defines Anglicanism with one period of the lengthy English Reformation: namely, when Edward VI, the young male heir of Henry VIII, reigned from 1547–1553. I do recognize a more precise logic to this definition than via media. It was a time when the leader of the English Reformation, Archbishop Thomas Cranmer, introduced the first edition of the 1549 Book of Common Prayer. It was later revised and approved in 1553 during the Edwardian time after a thorough critique by the German Reformer Martin Bucer.

Cranmer also produced in 1552 the Forty-Two Articles of Religion that were approved in 1553 in the Edwardian era, albeit only authorized by a small group of bishops. This doctrinal statement together with the archbishop’s numerous writings reflect the influence of Luther, the Swiss Reformer John Calvin, Martin Bucer, and particularly another German Reformer Oecolampadius regarding the Sacrament of Holy Communion. Though Cranmer returned to the Scriptures and the early church fathers for his theological method, he was persuaded by the wider Reformation in significant ways. As a result, a specific Protestant Evangelical and Reformed cast was brought to Anglicanism during this Edwardian period of the English Reformation.

The main problem with using the Edwardian segment of English history to define Anglicanism in some exclusive sense is that the defining was not over. Cranmer’s Forty-Two Articles were at some points, especially on Calvinism and the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, later significantly modified in their final approval by the Church of England and Parliament in 1571 to be the Thirty-Nine Articles of Religion. Fifteen years after Cranmer’s martyrdom, these august bodies of jurisdiction in England arrived at what became the normative doctrinal statement for Anglicanism that remains to this day. As I present in my chapter on the Thirty-Nine Articles, further developing the thesis of my Introduction, they were restored to a more Reformed Catholic understanding of the theology of the English Reformation.

Furthermore, in the continuing work of reforming the Church of England, The Prayer Book in the 1559 edition was also revised after the Edwardian period with the removal of a Black Rubric. In the 1553 Protestant revision of the Prayer Book, it had forbidden acknowledging the “real and essential presence of Christ” in the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper. Once the Black Rubric was no longer in the Prayer Book, however, Christ’s real and essential presence in the Sacrament could be acknowledged.

This realist sense, albeit as a spiritual and heavenly presence, was also emphasized when words said by the minister were restored to the administration of the Sacrament. They are, “The body of Christ which is given for thee . . .” Yet the necessity of receiving in faith for the Sacrament to be effectual is included with the phrasing, “and feed on Him in thy heart by faith with thanksgiving.” Therefore, with all of these modifications to the later 1559 edition of the Prayer Book, once again we see how the English Reformation retained a Reformed Catholic emphasis. It was more than “reformed”; it was “re-forming” to catholic.

Having said this, I do note in my introduction a number of invaluable contributions of the Reformed Anglican definition of Anglicanism. I cite the emphases of Scripture, numerous Biblical commentaries, justification by faith only, and the Gospel. I point out these aspects because they are important features included in the fuller definition that I offer as the main point of my Introduction and the book.

However, the model of Anglicanism that I am proposing is indicated by the title of the volume: Re-Formed Catholic Anglicanism. The key difference to this approach is that I appeal to the defenses of the English Reformers themselves over the entire, century long, period of this part of the Reformation. Of course, this includes Cranmer, but it also consists of others like Bishop John Jewell of Salisbury. He was tasked by Queen Elizabeth to write what became the definitive apologetic for the Anglican Way, An Apology of the Church of England, against Roman Catholic antagonists. He was also given the assignment by Archbishop Matthew Parker, Cranmer’s successor, to chair the editorial committee that modified the Forty-Two Articles into the Thirty-Nine Articles.

When we let the English Reformers speak for themselves over the entire century-plus English Reformation we discover a consistent Reformed Catholic Anglican approach. From Cranmer though the Caroline Divines^[1] the English Reformers appeal to the Scriptures, the early church fathers, the creeds, and the Ecumenical Councils as their standard. They were reformed in that they were attempting to re-form the Church of England back to the Undivided Church, and particularly to the Church in Briton before she came under the authority of the Bishop of Rome (the Pope) in the 7^th century. Catholic for these English Reformers meant the Undivided Church, before the split between East and West in 1054.

Throughout my development of the Reformed Catholic Anglican definition, I note what could be considered evangelical and catholic features. For example, I cite John Jewell’s evangelical defense of justification by faith. But he primarily did so by reaching back to St. Augustine of Hippo (4^th-5^th c.) and not contemporary continental reformers. On the catholic side, I also point out that Jewell and many other 16^th century English Reformers include as part of their standard the early church fathers, the creeds, and the councils. What’s significant about all of these English Reformers is that they constantly go back to the Scriptures and the ancient church to support their re-forming of the English Church. They are not attempting to find some median point between something and something else. And although they rely heavily on the Edwardian period, they note that the approach even during that period (as evidenced chiefly by Thomas Cranmer) was a “back to the sources” retrieval of Scripture and the church fathers.

In my other three chapters on the Prayer Book, the Sacraments, and the Articles, I develop further the Reformed Catholic Anglican Way. I begin each chapter with a quote from one of the English Reformers on each subject that reflects the model of Scripture and the early church fathers to reform the liturgy, do sacramental theology, and produce the final version of their historic doctrinal statement the Thirty-Nine Articles. In summary, this is the Reformed Catholic Anglican definition that I present in my Introduction. Would that Mr. Clark had at least explained what the Introduction was about before he launched into his criticisms on subpoints without this background. This brings me to a second point in my response.

The Subpoint of the Thesis of the Introduction

Second, in developing the definition of Reformed Catholic Anglicanism in my Introduction, I offer as support aspects of this model including the Holy Scriptures, the early church fathers, creeds and councils. On the subsection titled Ecumenical Councils, I demonstrate that the 16^th-17^th century Church of England accepted in some sense all seven of them. Utilizing primarily the work of the English Reformer, Richard Field, I note some of his salient points about the councils.^[2]

Field affirms that the first four councils are the “stone” on which the others are built. The use of the word “stone” is from a 6^th century Bishop of Rome, St. Gregory. Following the Reformed Catholic Anglican pattern of earlier English Reformers, Field appeals to an early church father for his proof. The English Reformation emphasized the first four councils. Yet, some have argued that the English Reformation did not accept the later councils. If so, this would seem to prove that the standard of the complete Undivided Catholic Church was not adopted, somewhat mitigating though not completely abrogating a Reformed Catholic definition of Anglicanism. My full point consistent with a Reformed Catholic definition of Anglicanism, however, is that although the English Reformation affirmed as foundational the first four councils it never rejected the last three. Field substantiates this point.

Field states that the English Church accepted “all” the “General Councils.” He does make the distinction that the first six councils were “doctrinal” and the seventh pertained to “manners.” Field’s observation effectively proves what I was substantiating in my main point on the Ecumenical Councils. Namely, the English Church’s acknowledgement of the councils, even if only six of them, demonstrates the model for re-forming back to the early Undivided Church of the first millennium. Mr. Clark does not acknowledge this important point except to agree that the English Church accepted the first six as “doctrinal.” I found this to be contradictory and confusing in his review.

I surmise that Mr. Clark perhaps missed what I was saying over disagreement with my understanding of Field’s position on the seventh council. To be clear, the English Reformer does acknowledge, “So that there are but seven general councils that the whole Church acknowledgeth called to determine faith and manners.”^[3] Notice Field says the “whole Church acknowledgeth seven general councils.” I didn’t elaborate much except to note that the English Reformer categorically makes this statement. Yet, since Field’s entire work argues that the English Reformation is part of the “whole catholic [universal] Church,” while not being under the Bishop of Rome, I thought his point on the General Councils was obvious. I didn’t think a reviewer therefore would understand Field to be saying in effect, “The whole Church except for the English Church acknowledgeth all the General Councils.” Clark doesn’t seem to make the connection that Field includes the English Church in the “whole Church,” albeit with the doctrinal/manners distinction.

Field is even more conclusive, however, in a later sentence that his church did “admit all the general councils” including the seventh. He says, “Lawful general councils . . . we do more honour and esteem and more fully admit all the general councils that ever hitherto been holden.”^[4] Note that Field says “we,” “do honour and esteem and more fully admit all the general councils that ever hitherto been holden.” He doesn’t say “I.” To whom could the “we” refer, in the sense of a “royal we,” except his Church of England which would also include him? C.B. Moss observes, “When Field says ‘we’ he usually claims to speak for the whole Reformation, Continental as well as English.”^[5] He understands the pronoun “we” to include the “English” Church. Moss however concludes, “Whether he does so here I cannot say.” But I don’t think Moss intends by this statement to mean that the English Church is excluded from the “whole Reformation.” Rather he probably is indicating that he doesn’t know whether Field is speaking in general as in the “whole Reformation as well the English Church,” or with greater specificity as in the “English Church” in particular. Either way, Field’s use of “we” encompasses the English Church. I don’t know how his use of “we” could have excluded his church with that specific of a pronoun.

Further, to what councils could Field have been referring with his word, “All,” followed by “the general councils that ever hitherto been holden,” except all seven? In context he’s consistently included the seventh in “all general councils.” These councils he calls “lawful general councils.” There were only seven. And finally, what was Field saying with the words “honor and esteem and more fully admit” other than that his church “accepted” all seven councils? I think Field’s additional statements therefore provide the clarification that Mr. Clark fails to cite or perhaps overlooked, and thus whatever the case he misses to come to the wrong conclusion about what Field is actually saying.

Yet, Mr. Clark attempts to equivocate on his confusing points by saying that Field is “ambivalent,” while on the other hand asserting that neither the reformer nor his church truly accepted the Seventh Council. Other scholars no doubt have argued the word “ambivalence” concerning the English Church’s acceptance of the Seventh Council, though not Field per se, but Clark goes beyond ambivalence in his assessments of the reformer.^[6]

On the face of it, Clark’s views are hardly tenable given Field’s statements that “the whole Church acknowledges all seven councils,” and includes his English Church as part of it with the pronouns “we” and “our.” His combined language is not “ambivalence.” At the least, Field presents that the English Church tacitly accepted the Seventh Council as I demonstrate in my Introduction and further in this response. It should be noted also that Field never categorically says that his church did not accept the council. He only makes distinctions, such as “doctrinal” and “manners,” between the first six councils and the seventh. Moss does state, “On the whole, we may say that Anglican theologians are not agreed as to whether the definition of the Seventh Council is binding on the Anglican Communion, but the majority are agreed that there is nothing in it with which Anglican principles are inconsistent.”^[7] Field, however, was one of the Anglican theologians who did believe that his church accepted the Seventh Council. The word “ambivalent” does not apply to him. Yet, Moss’s comment, “but the majority [of Anglican theologians] are agreed that there is nothing in it [the Seventh Council] with which Anglican principles are inconsistent,” at the very least admits a “tacit approval” by the English Church given her allowance of images at the time of the Reformation.

Clark therefore commits another major historical and theological blunder regarding the Seventh Council. He does not understand that Field, while agreeing with one point, differs with the Western Church’s Latin, “Popish” (Field’s terminology) mistranslation of the original Greek version of the Seventh Council’s statement and not with the council itself. Yet again if we read Field’s complete statements, he affirms the Seventh Council with the very language of the original Greek pronouncement. Therefore, as a third point in my response to Clark’s review, I need to summarize what the Seventh Council was and was not saying, before explaining the Roman Church’s corrupted Latin version. This additional information will put Field’s further and specific comments into a more accurate context to which I refer in my subpoint and will help to unravel Clark’s misjudgments about it.

The Seventh Ecumenical Council

Third in my response to Mr. Clark’s points on Field’s alleged view of the Seventh Council in 787, I must clarify that its primary concern, which is often lost, was to oppose idolatry by addressing an “iconoclastic controversy.”^[8] That is, the Seventh Council was mainly correcting the misuse of images to explain how, properly understood and used, they could be allowed in churches. Put another way, it distinguished “idol” from “image.” Not coincidentally, this is precisely the position of the English Church in her part of the Reformation.

As for the context of the Seventh Council, the “iconoclasts” (literally “against icons”) were those who demanded the destruction of all pictures and images in churches to prevent idolatrous worship of them. They accurately recognized, however, false doctrine that had led to the idolatry. The erroneous teaching prior to the council had to do with the belief that the “uncircumscribed Deity of God” could be extended to pictures, icons, and so forth for them to be worshipped. The word “uncircumscribed” meant unbounded or limitless. It’s true that God’s Deity cannot be limited. St. Athanasius had previously said in the 4^th century that when Christ was on earth, His Deity still filled heaven. The deviant theologians argued that the “uncircumscribed Deity” of God was so unlimited that it could be in a picture or icon. St. Athanasius had never said that.

The Seventh Council countered the errant theology to correct the iconoclasts’ wrong response with the solution of altogether rejecting images. The council did so by turning to Scripture for the proper understanding of “image.” It began by citing St. Paul who had said that only Jesus Christ is the “image of the invisible God” (Colossians 1:15). And since only He is the Divine Image of God, the “uncircumscribed Deity,” God’s Divinity cannot be in an image or picture to be worshipped. Nothing nor anyone except Jesus Christ is to be adored or worshipped. This was the theological side of the manners addressed in the Seventh Council. With this refutation of the false view of the uncircumscribed Deity of God, the Seventh Council concluded that, freed from wrong doctrine, pictures and images of Christ and saints may be permitted (though not mandated) as long as they are not worshipped.

The council further established according to Scripture that images could be made without their necessarily being an idol. It drew on the writings of the 7^th century St. John of Damascus to correct the iconoclasts’ misinterpretation of the second commandment (Exodus 20:1–6).^[9] It prohibits the making or worshipping of images. The iconoclasts interpreted the second commandment to forbid the making of “any” images. Yet, St. John points out that in the context of the Ten Commandments in Exodus 20, the Lord adds further instructions for erecting a Tabernacle with all kinds of pictures and images (Exodus 24-31). In Yahweh’s instruction, He directs that pictures should be painted on the walls (i.e. Trees etc.). He even commands that statues of the seraphim (angels) should be placed on the ark of the covenant. (I passingly make reference to these points in my comment about the “Temple”).^[10]

St. John concludes that the second commandment only prohibits making false images allowing for Biblical ones in churches such as pictures and stained-glass windows portraying Christ, angels, and saints. Thus, the church father’s understanding explains the King James (Anglican) translation “graven images.” In fact, it should be noted that St. John’s view of the second commandment is the Anglican position in contrast to other 16^th – 17^th century reformed, presbyterian, congregational, and puritan interpretations. These groups concluded incorrectly that the second commandment prohibits all pictures in churches, including those of Christ, saints, and even crosses on the altar. They were a redux of the very iconoclasm opposed by the Seventh Council.

The Seventh Council also makes another very important distinction that only what the image represents is to be worshipped and not the icon. The council says, “For the honour which is paid to the picture (εικων) passes on to that which the picture represents, and he who reveres (προσκυνων) the picture reveres in it the subject represented.”^[11]

In making the distinction between the image and what it represents, the council furthermore uses two different Greek words to emphasize an additional critical difference. It says, “For the more frequently they are seen in artistic representation the more readily are men lifted up to the memory of, and longing after, their prototypes; and to these should be given salutation and honourable reverence (ασπασµον και τιµητικην προσκυνησις), not indeed [to be] the true worship (λατρειαν, latria) which is fitting (πρεπει) for the Divine nature alone.”^[12]

The council appealed to Scripture to distinguish, προσκυνησις (reverence) and λατρειαν (worship). Though there are a few exceptions, the New Testament consistently distinguishes these two terms. Once again, the council follows the Biblical pattern to conclude that an image may be reverenced without being worshipped. How an image may be reverenced can vary. In the Eastern Church, reverencing included bowing and kissing an image. In the Western Church reverencing was more modest ranging from simply pausing before an image out of respect, tipping of the hat as a cross passed by, slightly bowing before an artistic portrayal of Christ or saint out of honor, crossing oneself before the image, and so forth. St. John of Damascus had even presented “seven kinds” of reverence or veneration. Yet, none of these respectful acts necessarily meant worship of the image.

These teachings and distinctions were the actual conclusions of the Seventh Council. Iconoclasm, or the destruction of images, was overruled. False teaching was corrected. Images were allowed if only understood to be an “artistic representation.” Worship was to be directed to the subject or “prototype” of the image. Reverence and worship were distinguished.

However, the important work of the Seventh Council was completely misunderstood when the Western Church mistranslated the Greek statement of the council into Latin. This point, which Mr. Clark does not seem to know, is critical to understanding the English Reformer, Richard Field’s language in his writings. He objected not to the Seventh Council but to the “Popish” interpretation of it based on the Latin inaccurate translation. Mr. Clark I believe fails to understand accurately the Seventh Council, as well as the Western Church’s mistranslation of it, and therefore misses another distinction in Field.

The Roman Mistranslation of the Council

Fourth in my response to Mr. Clark, to understand accurately what the English Reformer Richard Field was actually saying about the Seventh Council, I need to explain how the Western Church’s mistranslation in Latin differed from the council’s original Greek statement. Not long after the Seventh Council (787) issued its conclusions to the wider Church, the Roman Church in the West translated it into Latin. Unfortunately, the Western version rendered the Greek word προσκυνησις meaning “reverence” with the Latin term adoratio or “adore,” a synonym for “worship.” In a bizarre twist of ecclesial history, the Western Church with its incorrect Latin translation therefore thought that the Seventh Council had approved the worship of images and initially opposed the council. The travesty was that the original Seventh Council had in point of fact objected to “adoration” as synonymous with the worship of images. It was precisely what the council had ruled against. Therefore, the Western Church with its mistranslation virtually misread every other important nuance and distinction of the Seventh Council.

By the 16^th century, however, the Western Church with its mistranslation had accepted the Seventh Council. Yet, also by this time the Medieval Roman Church had introduced Aristotelian (Aristotle) Greek philosophy into its theological model.^[13] Aristotle had essentially said that reality (the ideal) is in the thing itself. Applied to pictures and images, this meant that God or a saint could somehow be associated with a venerated image. The Western Church sought to avoid this problem by distinguishing in some way “adoration,” the wrong translation of the Greek word, from “worship.” Yet, the effect of adoring due to the mixture of Aristotelian philosophy into theology had resulted in the abuse of images. Pictures and statues were being viewed as the thing itself and not just what it represented.

The Reformation of the 16^th century opposed and addressed the idolatrous problem in various ways. Some aspects of the Reformation became iconoclastic. Like those who precipitated the iconoclastic controversy leading to the Seventh Council, parts of the Reformation disallowed images altogether. The English Church, however, did not.

Like the Seventh Council, the English Church of the Reformation, by observing in history what it allowed and did not disallow pertaining to images in churches, in fact obviously had to have used similar reasoning as the council. While not prohibiting pictures and stained-glass windows it permitted them to remain, yet at the same time it instructed that they were not to be worshipped. Implicitly this meant that, along the same lines of the conclusions of the Seventh Council, only what the image represented was to be worshipped and not an artistic portrayal of Christ or the saints. Such actual tolerances and the implications of them in the English Church of the 16^th century brings me to the subpoint of a subpoint in the section of my Introduction on Ecumenical Councils and to the precise language of Richard Field on the Seventh council.

Richard Field and My Subpoint

Fifth in my response to Mr. Clark’s review, we can now more accurately understand Richard Field’s language with the aforementioned correct historical background. He clearly opposed the “Popish,” or Western Church’s mistranslation of the text of the council. He also indicates by his carefully nuanced language that he understood the difference between the Latin, false translation and the original Greek meaning of the Seventh Council. That is why I used the wording of the council when I said, “Field argues that the council was therefore important for distinguishing the religious adoration and worshipping of images.”^[14] In this statement, I noted the “council,” as in the “Seventh Council.” I was not referring to the Roman Church’s wrong interpretation of it based on a mistranslation that had erroneously tried “to distinguish adoration from the worship of images.” I didn’t use the preposition “from.” That was not the council’s word.

Instead, I adopted the actual language of the Seventh Council that had synonymously equated the verbs “adoration and worship.” In other words, “adoration” was “worship” according to the council. Therefore, I meant that these similar terms were distinguished from the reverence of images as the council meant. I didn’t add that phrase because I thought it to be implied given the language of the original council. I also assumed that the level of audience to whom the book and my Introduction are aimed would realize the differences according to a correct understanding of the Seventh Council and the Latin mistranslation of it. Yet given Clark’s lack of understanding of important historical and theological differences between the Seventh Council and the Latin mistranslation, and that others might make the same mistakes, I shall add to my statement the phrase, “from the reverence of images,” in a future printing of the book. I may even include a footnote for further clarification.

Nevertheless, Mr. Clark inaccurately seizes on my statement to assert that I was defending the “Popish view.” Field indeed opposed it, but he also distinguished it from and agreed with the original language of the Seventh Council. Since Clark mistakenly coalesces the Seventh Council and the Latin mistranslation, he misses that Field truly upheld the council and its important distinction between reverence and worship. He therefore wrongly concludes that I was “eisegeting” (reading into the text) Field instead of “exegeting” (explaining the text). Anything could be further from the truth if we read the full statements in Field.

The English Reformer, although cautioning against the potential for idolatry, specifically states his concurrence with the Seventh Council. He even uses the exact terminology of it allowing for the reverence of an image while condemning its adoration or worship. His full statement regarding the “Seventh Council” is, “surely that is our conceit that the seventh general council, the second of Nice: for howsoever it condemns 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 . . . it may seem to have given some occasion, and to have opened the way to that gross idolatry which afterwards entered the Church.”^[15]

Note what Field is and is not saying. He starts with “our conceit,” meaning with the word “conceit” that he is agreeing on one point with the early conclusion of the Western Church on the Seventh Council. He prefaces his statement above that he “confesses there may be something inconveniently prescribed, and so as to be the occasion of great and grievous evils” concerning the council. Field agreed that the conclusions of the council could lead to the abuse of images. Yet, he was only conceding that images could become idolatrous with a general reference to the Western Church’s translation of the Seventh Council.

Yet, with a careful read of Field he demonstrates with precise language that he knew the difference between the original statement of the Seventh Council and the Latin mistranslation of it. Field uses the exact language of the council and not that of the Western errant translation. He continues in his statement above with, “howsoever . . . [the Seventh Council] seem to allow no other use of them [pictures] 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.” The words “reverence and respect” are precisely the distinction made by the Seventh Council from the worshipping of an image. The Western Church’s mistranslation had failed to recognize and understand the Seventh Council’s use of the word “reverence” by mistakenly translating it as “adoration.” Field did not commit that error indicating that he knew the important differences between the wording of the original council and the Western Church’s mistranslation.

Furthermore, Field does not even condemn “reverence and respect towards pictures of saints” but only cautions that such practice “may seem to have given occasion . . . to have opened the way to that gross idolatry which afterwards entered the Church.” He doesn’t say that “signs of reverence and respect” ipso facto led to violation. He therefore qualifies that such reverence “may seem” to have resulted in erroneous veneration without saying that the distinctions of the council necessarily did in all cases. In fact, albeit with the cautions he offers, one may conclude that the reformer recognized the possibility of the reverence/worship nuances of the Seventh Council.

Such exact reading of Field, exegesis and not eisegesis as Mr. Clark asserts concerning me, explains the English Church’s judicious allowance of images surely based on the Seventh Council. And these points combined with his earlier statements that the “whole Church” acknowledged “all the general councils” including the English Church, elucidate in part the latter’s approach of allowing pictures, stained-glass windows, icons, and so forth in churches. It permitted them and even their modest reverence and respect in chapels and in personal prayer life based another important Reformation principle, “conscience.” Such practices having been accepted in the English Church only make sense given the affirmative views of the Seventh Ecumenical Council as indicated by Field’s actual statements about it.

Additionally, as an indication of the English Church’s positive view of the Seventh Council, it should not go unnoticed that it is precisely at the end of the English Reformation, in the late 17^th century, that ecumenical conversation opens between a Church of England Archbishop of Canterbury, bishops, and clergy and the Eastern Orthodox Church. Leaders of the Anglican non-juror movement sought rapprochement with the Eastern Church. Frederick the Great of Eastern Church of Russia even sought for approval of the English Church’s orders and liturgy, before his untimely death, largely based on the fact that his church believed the Anglican Church did not reject the Seventh Council. The English Reformation, however, did remove from public worship in the divine liturgy of the Book of Common Prayer the invocation and the veneration of saints.

However, I should comment on a homily written by a Puritan in 1563 that became part of the Homilies in the Thirty-Nine Articles (Article 35), “Against Peril of Idolatry” that runs counter to Field’s statements on the Seventh Council. This Homily clearly opposes the Seventh Council. But C.B. Moss clarifies that the Homilies “were much disliked by the clergy of more than one school of thought,” explaining in part why this homily was never completely enforced while the Church of England was Anglican. It was with the short-lived takeover of the Church of England by the Puritans from the 1640s to 1660. Moss goes on to point out that with the restoration of Anglicanism the 17^th century Bishop Gibson of London says that “some of the historical statements in them [the Homilies] are highly questionable and even demonstrably false; and that the individual cannot fairly be called upon to maintain any particular view simply because it is taught in the Homilies: they are only authoritative so far as they agree with the Articles, and the Book of Common Prayer.”^[16] Moss further documents that “The Court of Arches, which is the court of the Archbishop of Canterbury, on November 19th, 1938, declared that it must not be inferred that the Church of England adopted every part of the doctrines contained in the Homilies.”^[17]

Thus, the Homilies such as the one “On Peril of Idolatry,” were never fully enforced nor considered to be doctrinally binding in the Church of England. Richard Field, the English Reformer whom I cite in my Introduction is an example. He lived under and subscribed to the Thirty-Nine Articles of which the Article on the Homilies was a part. He exemplifies in the statements that I have referenced the extent to which he and his Church of England, contrary to the homily “On Peril of Idolatry,” allowed the views, precise wording, and distinctions expressed by the Seventh General Council.

The Allegation of a “Slanted” Introduction

For a final sixth point in my response to Mr. Clark’s review I should address his allegation that my Introduction is “slanted” in an “Anglo Catholic” direction. With this passing comment, and more importantly without definition of the term, I think he makes an over generalized misleading characterization. Scholars have noted that what came to be known as the “Anglo-Catholic Movement” of the 19^th century was not “monochromatic.”^[18] There were at least three phases of it. The first two were the Oxford and Tractarian (named for their publication Tracts for the Times) phases. Yet even though the term “Anglo Catholic” was first used in 1838 to describe their movement, they were initially Reformed Catholic Anglican with their attempted reforms of the Church of England. Like the larger thesis of the Introduction and the book, Re-Formed Catholic Anglicanism, these first scholars of the movement appealed to the same sources as the English Reformers: the Scriptures, the early church fathers, creeds, councils, and the Undivided Church. For this reason, the Oxford and Tractarian leaders in their phases of the movement constantly referred for support of their views to the 16^th century English Reformation Formularies of the Book of Common Prayer, the Thirty-Nine Articles, and the Ordinal.

Over time, however, this movement entered what was called its “Ritualistic” third phase in the latter part of the 19th century. It morphed in ways away from the original model of the initial reformers of the movement. It was influenced largely by the departure of many (though not all) clergy into the Roman Catholic Church. In this period of the movement, however, it began to adopt Neo-Thomist Roman Catholic theology. It became a kind of “Anglo Papal Catholicism.” This theological model was significantly different from the Reformed Catholic Anglican emphases of the first two phases of the movement. We know this because one of the original leaders of the Oxford Movement phase, Edward Pusey, wrote a massive tome, Eirenicon, against those who went to Rome with perhaps the most thorough critique of Roman Catholicism. His arguments also applied much to those who remained in the Church of England and allowed their Anglo Catholicism to adopt Roman theology. In this sense, two kinds of Anglo Catholicism emerged, one remaining Reformed Catholic Anglican and the other more Roman.

Therefore, without clear definition of the term “Anglo-Catholic,” I’m not certain what Mr. Clark means with his reductionistic use of the term. If he’s referring to the third phase of that movement, he’s totally incorrect. Although my Introduction and other three chapters are not necessarily trying to identify with the “Anglo Catholic Movement” per se, especially not the ritualist third phase of it, I minimally cite authors of the first two phases in my chapter on “The Sacraments: Both Which is Both.” But the writers I quote are Reformed Catholic Anglican in their approach. They are an example of attempted reform similar to the model in the English Reformation. And neither I nor they refer to their views on the Seventh Council in any of my other chapters. Mr. Clark’s assertion is therefore not accurately based on any specific statements to substantiate his point because of his vague, overly generalized use of the word “Anglo Catholic.”

Yet, regardless of what Mr. Clark meant by his undefined term, his reductionistic argument is that if one supports that the English Church accepted the Seventh Ecumenical Council, he is “slanted” toward the “Anglo Catholic.” To the contrary, given the views I’ve quoted from the English Reformer Richard Field and the English Church’s allowance of images with the very distinctions of the Seventh Council in the 16^th – 17^th centuries, these references and practices were long before the 19^th century Anglo Catholic Movement. I can’t possibly see how acceptance of the Seventh General Council necessarily categorizes one as slanted in an “Anglo Catholic” direction, especially not toward the third phase of “Anglo-Catholicism.” No doubt certain Anglo Catholics of the 19^th century did accept the Seventh Council. But Oxford and Tractarian scholars made this point based on 16^th-17^th century Reformed Catholic Anglican arguments such as the ones I’ve cited. Again, if Mr. Clark had engaged the thesis of the Introduction, as well as my other chapters, and accurately understood them, I think he would have recognized that acceptance of the Seventh Council is Reformed Catholic Anglican and not necessarily “Anglo Catholic.”

Therefore, to say that acceptance of the Seventh General Council is inherently slanted in an “Anglo Catholic” direction is misleading without explanation of the term. In fact, any slant in my Introduction is toward indeed what the 16^th – 17^th century English Reformers and English Church believed and permitted regarding the Seventh Council. That’s all!

Conclusion

In conclusion, I can acknowledge one point that Mr. Clark criticizes. I say that Field’s reference to his “adversaries” “probably” pertained to the Puritans. Clark rightfully cites that Field consistently speaks of his “adversaries” as the Roman Church. He concludes that Field was referring to his “Roman adversaries.” Although I only said “probably,” I also prefaced with “in the historical context.” I meant that Field’s reference applied to the Puritans. It should not go unnoticed that two years prior to the publication of his work in 1606 there had been the famous Hampton Court Conference between the King and leaders in the Church of England and the Puritans. The Puritans had specifically opposed symbols like the “wedding ring” and other images. And they were “adversarial” to the Church of England when Field published his work.

Yet as Mr. Clark suggests, if we understand that Field was referring to “Rome” as his “adversaries,” it does seem that he meant this designation. But Field is arguing against the abuse of images with his reference to how his “adversaries confess there may be . . . occasion of great and grievous evils.” With this language he’s appealing to the “iconoclasm” the earlier Western Church had with its mistaken understanding of the Seventh Council. And the Puritans were making the same kind of iconoclastic point at the time of Field’s writing and publishing of his work. Hence, I think that his use of “adversaries” encompassed Rome and the Puritans. Perhaps though that is not what Field intended. Again, that’s why I said “probably.” Besides, Clark’s point doesn’t change one way or the other Field’s arguments about the Church of England’s acceptance of “all the general councils,” nor his recognition of the Seventh Council’s distinctions of “reverence and respect” for images without worshipping them. Nevertheless, I shall edit in the next printing of my Introduction in the book to say something to the effect, “’adversaries’ refers to the earlier Western, Roman Church’s view of images which probably also applied in Field’s Day to the Puritans.”

I can appreciate and even benefit if a reviewer disagrees. I have indeed acknowledged in view of Mr. Clark’s review places in the subsection of my Introduction that I believe need some minimal editing without moving away from the introductory character of the chapter. I wish, however, that Mr. Clark had simply written an article referring to his points of difference on the Seventh Council and not called what he wrote a “review.” My main objection is that Mr. Clark did not actually review the book Re-formed Catholic Anglicanism. In the process as a result, I have argued that he made numerous mistakes. Nevertheless, I do have regard for Mr. Clark’s other writings. Though differing substantially with him on his review of my Introduction, I count him as a faithful Anglican brother in Christ. May we both be better to the Glory of God in our scholarly interactions and disagreements with one another!

Notes

1. Caroline comes from the Latin Carolingus for “Charles” as in the 17^th century Charles I. But they actually begin with the reign of James I and spanned Charles I and after his death to the end of the Cromwellian era. ↑
2. Richard Field, Of the Church, Five Books (Cambridge: The University Press, 1852), Book IV, 60–62. ↑
3. Field, Book IV, 61. ↑
4. Field, Book IV, 62. Italics mine. ↑
5. C.B. Moss, The Church of England and the Seven Ecumenical Councils, (London: Faith Press, 1957; Project Canterbury Edition, 2003), 22. ↑
6. Moss, 22–25. See also Moss’s chapters, The Anglican Divines and the Seventh Council (Chapter VII 20–25), compared with his arguments that the Orthodox have accurately recognized that historically the English Church in its practice of distinguishing “image” from “idol” has always received the council (Chapter VIII, Reunion and the Seventh Council, 26–32, and Chapter IX, The Orthodox Churches, 33–36). Moss’s point is that even though the English Church did not make an official statement on the Seventh Council, it did act as though it had by allowing the use of images in its church with the same distinctions as the council. And the Orthodox recognized such practices as permissible by the English Church to mean that the latter did in fact accept the council. This is what Moss means by “ambivalence.” ↑
7. Moss, 26. ↑
8. C.B. Moss, 9–13. ↑
9. Moss, 9–10 ↑
10. Reformed Catholic Anglicanism, 15. ↑
11. Moss, 13. ↑
12. Moss, 12–13. Italics mine. ↑
13. Moss, 18–19. ↑
14. Reformed Catholic Anglicanism, 15. Italics added in this response. ↑
15. Book IV, 61. Italics mine. ↑
16. Moss, 20–21. As for the historical inaccuracies of the Homily, Moss notes ones pointed out by Bishop Gibson, to wit, “He [the homilist] tells the story of the Iconoclastic controversy very inaccurately; for he treats the pictures, and not the destruction of them, as a novelty, and ignores altogether the restoration of them after the second Iconoclastic period. For him Leo III and Constantine V, the Iconoclastic emperors, are ‘holy’ and ‘wise’; he ignores their persecution of the monks, lays the blame for resistance to Iconoclasm on the Pope, and attributes to it the schism between the Greeks and the Latins, and the conquest of the Eastern Christians by the Arabs and the Turks. He believes that all ‘worship’ of images or pictures is idolatry. As human nature is so corrupt, that it is impossible to prevent people from committing idolatry if they have the chance, all pictures and statues with any religious significance are to be destroyed, especially if they are in churches. If the bishops will not do this, it is the civil magistrate’s duty to do it, following the example of Hezekiah and Josiah. Moreover, he believes that pictures or statues of Christ and His Apostles are falsehoods because we do not know what they looked like. And if we did know, they would still be falsehoods because they only represent our Lord’s Manhood, and not His Godhead; they only represent the bodies of the Apostles, and not their souls.” ↑
17. Moss, 20. ↑
18. John Shelton Reed, Glorious Battle: The Cultural Politics of Victorian Anglo Catholicism (Nashville: Vanderbilt University Press, 1996). ↑