By Andrew R. Duckworth
Previously, I was working on a piece concerning strictly the damage that often comes from evangelical practices for the sake of quick and cheap conversion. And while I think there is still a place to discuss such harm, I feel as though building bridges rather than furthering the divide is the better option. I was previously laying out my own personal history over the years along with a critique of Protestant evangelism. Again, there is still plenty to be said over the topic. However, the following writing, while it contains some memorable moments from my past, does not focus on a critique. Rather, it focuses on a more objective view of the Protestant-Catholic divide (as objective as it can be… I am Catholic, after all), some common misrepresentation and misunderstanding on both sides, and perhaps some areas that, looking forward, can help to heal the divide.
I was an eight year old child when I first realized that I was a bit different than my friends at school. I was over at a friend’s house and my friend let me know it would be one of the last times I would be allowed over to his house. The reason puzzled me and it took me questioning why for a while before I was able to get a reason out of him. I was Catholic… and according to his father, I would be a bad influence because I “was not Christian.” Never mind the nonsense of it, both historically and factually, the heaviest dose of irony would come not a year later when this friend of mine would transfer away from the public school we attended to attend a private Catholic school for better moral foundation… oh, the irony indeed…
This would by no means be the end of anti-Catholicism in my experience. It was rather a beginning, the first time I ever noticed it. And while many in the small town I grew up in carried this sentiment, it was the few who did not hold this sentiment and were charitable that made a positive difference. In fact, the more I researched and the more I conversed with Protestants, I realized that many of them did not hate me or the Catholic Church. Rather, they hated what they had been programmed to think about the Catholic Church, a caricature often marred with misrepresentation and misunderstanding. Who could blame them? In a small Protestant town, one only really ever gets a Protestant perspective and not all Protestant perspectives on the matter were the same. There were the numerous Pentecostal tribes that apparently believed we worshipped Mary and statues, a sentiment that at best is comical and at worst mind depleting. One of my friends, around my fifth grade year (I know it was early in middle school) said once, “yeah, I walked into y’all’s church one time and everyone was bowing and raising their hands to a huge statue of Mary and saying ‘You’re god! You’re god!’” Never mind the fact that we did not have a “huge” statue of the blessed mother in our church, but a modest statue off to the side of the altar, I knew he was lying about everything. You don’t just walk in to a Catholic Church and, when you do, you’ll notice that it is remarkably different: everything is silent unless the Mass has already commenced. And, if it has, and you’re brave enough to stay, you’ll notice there is no portion during the liturgy or the consecration that displays such a thing. There are three times in which Mary is even mentioned in the Mass—during the confiteor (the prayer where we admit guilt through our own fault, and ask the Blessed Mother and the other saints to pray for us), during the Nicene Creed when Jesus is declared “born of the Virgin Mary,” and shortly before the consecration when we offer our prayers from the Church. The common misconception occurs in our differences between veneration of the saints and worship that belongs rightly to God. And it is often comical to Catholics when Protestants attempt to declare boldly on things they often know little about or things taught to them by their pastors who have a stake in misrepresenting us and what we believe. There were also those who were much more charitable, much more reasonable, and defended me at every opportunity. A teacher of mine once heard a fellow peer discussing how I wasn’t a Christian because I was Catholic. She herself was Methodist, but came quickly to my defense. I remember her words quite clearly in my mind like the day they occurred: “that’s laughable. The Catholic Church was the first Christian church. Maybe get your facts right before you decide to speak next time.”
But in the age of social media, it became a much different landscape. You could post whatever you wanted and decide whether or not to respond to commenters. Social media was dominated with both Protestant and Catholic voices battling it out like we were back in the 16th century. I was raised to understand the importance of putting things into perspective. I was told about the Troubles in Ireland at an early age and how devastating it was to Catholics and also Protestants. It further divided Protestants and Catholics. To this day, you can still see the divide… literally… by walls in Belfast Northern Ireland. I still hear from time to time that there are still areas you do not want to be caught going to if you’re Catholic or Protestant in Belfast, although I can’t confirm it. I’ve never been there. There was a joke at one point (and perhaps it wasn’t a joke at all) by a famous atheist, exactly who I can’t remember, that dealt with this very issue. “Oh, we know you’re an atheist,” they would say, “but are you a Protestant atheist or a Catholic atheist?”
This sort of thing, while I can often get caught up in the squabble from time to time, gives me pause. Why are we like this? Well, the overly simple answer is because it’s important. The Truth is important. And both Protestants and Catholics hold competing claims over the Truth. Disagreements are one thing. But slander? Uncharitable claims? An uncharitable spirit in general? History is one thing. It is written in stone and there is no changing it. We can take both Protestant history and Catholic history and accurately make claims about how both, at times, have not only been uncharitable, but have been dominated by a lack of charity. We can also point to both and see a profound abundance of charity in certain points of history. Regardless of our histories, it doesn’t give us some right to be uncharitable or concoct unfounded claims against the other.
Ignorance of something is one thing. Willful ignorance is quite another. An outright rejection of knowledge or understanding that might prevent false claims has been, for the most part, an all too common experience. I hear it often from Protestants. But I am sure the opposite is the case for some Protestants. The other problem that humanity runs into is that we are tribal. We find our tribe and we want to stick to it. Being outside the tribe makes us uncomfortable, so we are all too eager to believe the convenient lie. It means that we still have belonging. This isn’t to say that we know it’s a lie, but it’s something we’re willing to embrace whether it’s true or not. It’s psychological. There’s the other less charitable aspect about the tribe in that it occasionally gives us the ability to be uncharitable. In this, we risk losing who we are as individuals and our ethic, our responsibility. And it’s important to also realize that both Protestants and Catholics can occasionally fall to this tribe mentality. And not just them, anyone. Any idea that comes to light will have someone who embraces it. And, after ideas—movements. And, with movements—tribes. Deep down, we seek belonging, and anything that threatens that belonging, we rush to go against. This is something that everyone must recon with at some point in their life, whether it’s of a spiritual nature, a political nature, any nature.
So, what heals the divide? That’s an excellent question, one that I hope we embrace more so than the question of what divides us. But perhaps first it may be important to recognize that one doesn’t necessarily have to forego their ideals in order to build bridges. Many Protestants are often quick to criticize Catholicism when the Pope meets with either secular world leaders or leaders of other faiths. Yet, what is happening here is an extension of friendship in humanity, not our respective faiths. The purpose of such meetings is not to unify under a single faith, but to recognize that our differences do not suggest that progress cannot be made in areas where it can, in fact, be made and do so in a manner of charity. One must be truly naive to believe that a sudden conversion will come about by such a meeting.
And, the fact is that Protestants and Catholics have much more in common than these other leaders. So, why then is it so difficult to hold the conversations we may need to? I can only speak from a Catholic perspective on this and what I have personally experienced. One thing that personally gives me pause is the amount of nonsense that is usually presented. By “nonsense,” I do not suggest that those speaking it actively realize it. In fact, often, they don’t. But trying to get them to see that it is nonsense is the real issue. For example, I was at one point engaged in an internet conversation (the best kind, and by best, I mean usually most absurd) with a Protestant who claimed that Catholics worship the Pope. It’s nonsense. The most ardent Catholic voices have never claimed such thing, so who has? Perhaps it was a voice who actively wishes for the Church to become nonexistent. We do not worship the Pope. We worship Jesus Christ, and the Blessed Trinity—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The Pope is of a high status in the Church, but he is still an individual man, a man who is still capable of erring. Just like all of us, the Pope is an imperfect person who requires repentance and absolution just as we all do. In some ways, the claim made me miss the old anti-Catholic arguments, like “Catholics do whatever the Pope tells them to,” or “Catholics worship Mary and the Saints,” or “Catholics worship bread,” you know, the usual, tired anti-Catholic arguments. At least with those, one can at least see where the confusion possibly comes from and can at least in a charitable way explain the misinterpretation of what is actually happening or help to correct a misunderstanding. But “worship the Pope”? I couldn’t help but laugh. But it is this type that Catholics often find themselves dealing with. And if that is a Catholic’s only engagement with Protestants, that can lead a Catholic to the false assumption that all Protestants hold such an absurd belief which obviously isn’t true. There are plenty of Protestants who simply are not convinced by certain Catholic doctrine to which I say, okay! So, where are some areas where we can find agreement?
In fact, it was the many charitable Protestant voices that brought me back to faith in Christ. Stuart and Cliffe Knechtle I have found to be very charitable. Yes, they do say things that I disagree with from time to time, but I’m often impressed by two things: their willingness to bring Christ to places where the subject of Christ or Christianity is sometimes shunned, and their approach not to condemn others, but listen and respond with charity. Dr. Gavin Ortlund, another popular Protestant voice, is another that I often have disagreements with, but is typically decent when it comes to representing what Catholics actually believe (although, occasionally, I find some misconception), and makes the point to be charitable while also disagreeing. I often credit Dr. William Lane Craig for being one of the voices that dragged me kicking and screaming out of atheism. Bryce Crawford is a newer and popular Protestant voice who is active in exploring what different sects of Christianity actually believe and does a great job of having different voices on his Podcast, including many Catholics. The most important thing about this rather small list is that we do not agree on everything concerning Christianity. Yet, I do have a lot of respect for these voices because they are honest. They don’t spew nonsense in the hope that someone grasps it and comes on over to the Protestant side of the argument. There are reasons for their disagreements, and they’re able to articulate these fairly well. I don’t agree with their objections, but I can at least appreciate their approach. I also think these are important voices when it comes to being role models for how individuals should be, not just for Protestants but for Catholics also. There is something to be learned from them. It’s why I listen to them. They seem to be humble and charitable.
So, what about full re-unification of the Christian Church—not just Protestants and Catholics, but the various Orthodox as well? Highly unlikely. I hate being the voice of little hope, although I usually am, particularly when it comes to the state of the world with aspects like AI and outright monstrous governments the world over, but here are the reasons: as I previously noted, not all Protestants are the same in their beliefs. There are, I believe, close to 30,000 different Protestant denominations, all of them separate for different reasons. Many of them disagree over very important aspects, such as the purpose and importance of the sacraments, etc. I have previously heard from a few Orthodox voices that the Orthodox have more in common with many Protestants than with Catholicism. Yet, if many Protestants see an Orthodox Mass and a Catholic Mass, they wouldn’t be able to tell you the difference. And there are stark differences between Catholicism and Orthodoxy, including the position of the Pope, and the Filioque within the Creed. There’s also the concept of Purgatory which most Orthodox churches and Protestants both do not agree with. The depiction of heaven and hell are different also in Orthodoxy, with hell sort of occupying the same “space” (I use this word in quotes as I’m not terribly sure that the term “space” is entirely accurate, yet I find it the only term that can really describe it) as heaven, yet the love of God destroying those who cannot embrace it and the love of God preserving those who can embrace it. While I find this conceptualization of heaven and hell interesting, I can’t fully embrace it but I can at least rationalize it.
I’m always at least hopeful that the Church can one day “be one” as Christ Himself wishes it. But, with the variety of differences, it seems as though that day is not immediately on the horizon. So, what are we to do in the meantime? Further the divide with outrageous, dastardly, and completely unfounded claims against the other? Or look to our similarities in the hopes of one day coming into full communion with the other while acknowledging the importance of our differences but approaching those differences with grace and charity? That choice belongs not to one church, but each of us individually.
