Copyright: © 1999 Paul F. Bosch.
This document may be freely reproduced for non-commercial purposes with credit to the author and mention of the Lift Up Your Hearts web site http://www.worship.ca/ as the source.

The story is told --I forget where I heard it-- of a tourist visiting the famed Uffizi Gallery in Florence, Italy. As those of you who have been there can testify, the Uffizi is one of the world's great art museums, its galleries and hallways crammed with paintings, drawings, and sculptures by artists the likes of Raphael, Botticelli, Leonardo, and Michelangelo. Our tourist, with guide- book in hand, is fairly racing through the exhibits, giving each masterpiece the merest glance of attention before hurrying on to the next, and all the while muttering loudly, "That's no good." and "That one's too dark." and "I don't like that one either."

A museum security guard, following the tourist, can finally take it no longer. He says, "Sir, these paintings are not on trial here. You are."

The faithful reader of these essays will recognize in this story a parable illustrating my own posture towards our inherited cultural traditions. Briefly put: You don't judge them; they judge you. Or perhaps more precisely: You earn the right to judge them only after you have allowed them to judge you.

My own definition of Tradition -- Have I told you this before? --is this: Tradition represents your attempt to give Grandma and Grandpa a vote in the decisions you must make today. Not the only vote, not the deciding vote, but a voice and vote nevertheless. Tradition, that is, allows the possibility of trans-generational democracy. We, in our own generation, want to try to learn to love what Grandpa and Grandma have loved in their generation. Changing the figure: To be thoroughly modern you don't have to be an Oedipus; you don't have to murder your father.

I'm referring, of course, to consensus traditions such as those in the World Council of Churches' Faith and Order Paper number 111: Baptism Eucharist and Ministry. That document, and others like it, presents the Tradition of the Christian church as a kind of base-line, or standard, against which all the various churches (denominations and parishes) may judge their own practices and pieties. "They're not on trial. You are."

Some months ago (in Essay 21: Half-Dressed at the Banquet or "Friend, How Did You Get in Here Without a Wedding Garment?") I promised you, faithful reader, some definitions that I hope might help to illuminate a favourite distinction of mine in these essays: the contrast between the truly catholic (small "c") and the sectarian. Here's my delivery on that promise:

For a definition of "catholic" (small "c"), I'd be willing to go with Vincent of Lerins: ''...quod ubique, quod semper, quod ab omnibus..." : "that which [has been believed] everywhere, always, among all people..." The truly "catholic," that is, from one perspective, is simply a matter of democracy: counting up the votes about the piety and practice of Christian people, presumably inspired by the Spirit, down through the centuries.

Of course, democracy is not always infallible: "Ten thousand Frenchmen" can be wrong, after all. But the weight of consensus in history, especially in pre-Reformation history, cannot be ignored. We ignore history to our diminishment. And the weight of the exciting ecumenical consensus, in liturgy, in our own day cannot be ignored either.

And please note: The opposite of "catholic," as I am using the term, is not "protestant." Nor is the word "universal" an altogether adequate synonym. As I am using it, the term "catholic" (small "c") is roughly synonymous with Trinitarian, ecumenical, inclusive, not-lacking-in-any- of-its-parts. Robert Farrar Capon has pointed out that the Greek root of our English word "catholic" is kata holon. That can be roughly translated as "pertaining to the whole; to all that is." If it's truly catholic, then it's truly universal, in the sense of complete, whole.

And, most significantly, non-sectarian. "Sectarian," for me, means presenting only a part, a section, of the whole; or presenting a distortion of the whole; an unfortunate idiosyncrasy. So the opposite of "catholic," for me, is "not-sufficiently-catholic": that is, "sectarian."

And, please note: In my view, all the churches, at the denominational level and at the parish level, are "sectarian" ("not-sufficiently-catholic"), at least in one aspect or another. There is no church or parish that is truly and fully "catholic" -- not even those churches or parishes that call themselves by that name. The consequence of that reality is that all the churches and parishes have homework to do -- not excluding the Roman Catholic (capitol "c")-- to make themselves more fully catholic (small "c").

OK: Let me really offend you. Let me list some specimen examples of what I believe to be "catholic" pieties and practices. I'll begin with the self-evident and indisputable, and move on to the controversial and even outrageous.

1. Those parishes in which preaching is centered in the Good News of the Gospel -- God's justification of us by grace through faith -- are more catholic, and therefore less sectarian, than those parishes in which preaching consists of moral uplift, ethical scolding, or self-help advice...

2. Those parishes which celebrate Word-and-Sacrament every Sunday are more catholic, and therefore less sectarian, than those parishes offering other forms of worship...

3. Those parishes which celebrate Word-and-Sacrament every Sunday as the Chief Service of the day are more catholic, less sectarian, than those parishes in which Holy Communion is scheduled at an hour that is less accessible or convenient to the majority of its members ...

4. Those parishes which honour the rhythms of the church year and devote themselves to lectionary-based preaching are more catholic and less sectarian than those parishes which use texts selected out of the preacher's preferences...

5. Those parishes which utilize the historic communion vestments (alb, stole, and chasuble) at Eucharist are more catholic and less sectarian than those parishes which use alb-and-stole alone, without chasuble; or those which use the academic robe and hood...

6. Those parishes whose clergy have been ordained within a system of historic episcopacy (any system: Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, Anglican, Scandinavian Lutheran) are more fully catholic, and less sectarian, than those parishes whose clergy have not been ordained within such a system. (See Essay 19: To Build a Boat-House: Liturgy and the ELCA's Concordat.)

I may extend this list in future essays.

You'll be waiting with baited breath, perhaps?...