The Protest of Anglicanism

It is common to hear Anglicanism described as “Reformed Catholic,” and I appreciate this term. I think it helps outsiders and insiders to understand the two major emphases of the denomination. That being said, I still want Anglicans to hold on to the name “Protestant.” I largely have John Jewell to thank for this, an English bishop who devoted many thoughtful and learned pages in protest against the abuses of the Catholic church. Jewell’s An Apology of the Church of England is an energetic defense of the English Reformation against its Catholic detractors as well as an explanation of what the Protestant project is really about. Rather than tracing out his argument in its entirety, let me quote a representative passage and use it as a foundation for remarking on his whole argument:

But the more sore and outrageous a crime heresy is, the more it ought to be proved by plain and strong arguments, especially in this time, when men begin to give less credit to their words, and to make more diligent search of their doctrine, than they were wont to do. For the people of God are otherwise instructed now than they were in times past, when all the bishops of Rome’s sayings were allowed for gospel, and when all religion did depend only upon their authority. Now-a-days the holy scripture is abroad, the writings of the apostles and prophets are in print, whereby all truth and doctrine may be proved, and all heresy may be disproved and confuted.^[1]

Here, Jewell is primarily addressing his critics who want to tar him and the other Reformers with the name “heretic,” and he argues that the charge of heresy must be made differently today than in yesteryear. What is the cause of this shift between “times past” and “this time,” and what characterizes “this time” for Jewell?

In Jewell’s understanding of Church history, there has been a shift in the way that theological controversy has been argued and catholicity has been established. In “times past,” the authority of the Bishop of Rome held sway, and (according to Jewell) many abuses were done by that authority in the name of godly government and justice. In Part 4 of Apology, Jewell catalogues the most egregious of these abuses and faults, laying them at the feet of the Popes who seized too much authority and acted on their whim and not according to righteousness and God’s law. This was the “time past,” when, according to Jewell, “all the bishops of Rome’s sayings were allowed for gospel, and when all religion did depend only upon their authority.” Jewell is unclear about when this time frame happened and how the early church became entangled in papal supremacy, but he is not going for precision in this passage; he is making a general claim about Church history to drive home a recent change that has taken place in the Protestant Reformation.

What happened to the Papal-dominated “time past” when (according to Jewell) Popes did little else but persecute the gospel and imprison the righteous? What has changed between now and then? “Now-a-days,” says Jewell, “the holy scripture is abroad, the writings of the apostles and prophets are in print, whereby all truth and doctrine may be proved, and all heresy may be disproved and confuted.” The decisive historical shift for Jewell was the distribution and study of the Bible. Such widespread access to Scripture caused men “to make more diligent search of their doctrine, than they were wont to do.” The availability of Scripture calls theologians to measure their words more carefully and persuade the world via argument and reason, not just naked appeal to ecclesial authority. Even the Bishop of Rome, it would seem, must now prove the validity of his pronouncements by showing their Scriptural basis, whereas before (it seems to Jewell) he could simply declare his judgments by pontifical fiat. This is, as I understand it, the heart of Jewell’s Apology. Let us now consider how we might learn from Jewell’s message.

If you are looking for figures and arguments to use against the Roman Catholic church today, I do not recommend using John Jewell. He is very Luther-like in his exaggerated, hyperbolic rhetoric, and the specifics of his argument suffer when subjected to scrutiny and stripped of their polemical ornaments. The best way to benefit from Jewell’s protest against Rome is not by continuing to hammer Roman Catholics with the Apology but by using it against ourselves. If the essence of Jewell’s protest is that ecclesial authority must be held to the light of Scripture, then we can do no better than to keep this protest living and active within the walls of the Anglican church. The “protest” of Protestantism should not be conceived of as a protest merely against everything Romish and Popish. The Protestant protest was, first and foremost, against the idolatry of a church that had usurped the authority of Scripture and removed all internal accountability structures, structures which are necessary for the ongoing rejuvenation and reformation of the church.

The potential danger of Anglicans calling ourselves a “Reformed Catholic” church is the Reform-ed part, as if the work is already done and it doesn’t get any better than this. The term “Protestant,” however, indicates a certain approach to ecclesiology marked by protest against a compromised church. Now, protest per se is not a virtue. It is not good to protest the true, good, and beautiful or to “strain against the goads.” It is, however, good to protest against ideas, institutions, figures, and churches which threaten the true, the good, and the beautiful. It is good to protest against the world, the flesh, and the devil. It is good to protest against the blasphemers of Jesus and the enemies of his people. This is how we ought to understand ourselves as Protestants. The opposite of Protestantism should not be Catholicism; Protestantism’s opposite should be willful blindness, what we might call “Abdicationism.” To be a Protestant means to diligently guard and preserve the truth and not to abdicate it for the sake of momentary peace or unity at the expense of integrity. I am reminded here of what Chesterton said of democratic government and how easily it devolves into tyranny:^[2] “A despotism may almost be defined as a tired democracy. As fatigue falls on a community, the citizens are less inclined for that eternal vigilance which has truly been called the price of liberty; and they prefer to arm only one single sentinel to watch the city while they sleep.”^[3] To be a Protestant is to guard and keep the gospel from the forces within and without that seek to supplant or supplement it.

Protestants recognize that human institutions are subject to entropy, and so long as the church is stewarded by sinful authorities “whereof all be not governed with the Spirit and Word of God,” it can degenerate and require reformation and protest.^[4] This reforming, protesting identity clearly cannot exist by itself, though. Protestantism without orthodoxy or catholicity degenerates into a self-loathing protest against history out of an idolatry of “progress.” One can easily see how the Western Protestants today have sawed off the ecclesial limb they are sitting on and tumbled into the void. Down indeed has come baby, cradle and all. But when catholicity and orthodoxy are isolated from a mechanism of reformation and renewal, they can likewise turn into an idolatry of history, a stubborn refusal to admit fault and course-correct.

Do Anglicans today need to be animated by the spirit of protest? I think the answer is clearly yes, but what we are protesting is no longer Rome; the Anglican formularies clearly demarcated differences between Roman Catholicism and the English Reformation in 1571 (despite the attempts of certain Tractarians to prove otherwise). The greatest need for protest in the Anglican church is not against Rome but against wayward Anglicans. Take for example this line from the Kigali Commitment: “We consider that those who refuse to repent have abdicated their right to leadership within the Anglican Communion, and we commit ourselves to working with orthodox Primates and other leaders to reset the Communion on its biblical foundations.”^[5] This is the true spirit of Protestantism, which is the ability of a church structure to rebuke and reform the highest levels of ecclesial institution by submitting it to the light of Scripture, the only infallible rule of the church.

So should Anglicans embrace the name Protestant? Some Protestants may wear the name triumphantly as a badge of honor, as if resentments toward Rome need annual refreshing to remind us not to slip into the error of papacy. As much as this resentment is alive and well in certain Protestant sectors, it is not the Anglican tendency. For Anglicans, the spirit of the Protestant Reformation should flourish within our walls as we seek to subject our own church to the same scrutiny with which we viewed Rome in the sixteenth century. Just as it is a healthy (though not flawless) exercise to wonder what Washington, Jefferson, and Adams would say of our democratic republic if they toured our capital today, we might likewise wonder what John Jewell would say of our church today. Are we zealous for biblical authority like our Reformation fathers? Do we strive for the cause of the gospel, even unto infamy, exile, and death? Do we call bishops to account by the clear light of scripture and sound doctrine? Or do we romanticize our catholicity and grow complacent in our orthodoxy, allowing our liturgy and apostolic succession to buoy us along the gentle tide of ecclesial decay?

Notes

1. John Jewell, An Apology of the Church of England (The Davenant Institute, 2020), 15‒16. ↑
2. I am aware of the irony in quoting Chesterton in a paper defending Protestantism. ↑
3. G.K. Chesterton, The Everlasting Man in The Three Apologies of G.K. Chesterton (Mockingbird Press, 2018), 287. ↑
4. Article XXI. ↑
5. “The Kigali Commitment.” https://www.gafcon.org/communique-updates/gafcon-iv-the-kigali-commitment/. Accessed September 20, 2024. ↑