For many of us, the label ‘Reformed’ is one we would happily apply to ourselves. We personally affirm the Reformation ‘solas’ and enthusiastically spell out our own version of them in the ‘What we believe’ section of our church website (you know, that web page that gets hardly any visits). We eagerly read books by our Reformed heroes—both ancient and modern—and trundle off to our regular Reformed conferences to have our convictions confirmed in the company of thousands of other self-labelled Reformed Christians. We teach Reformed theology to others from our pulpits, in our Sunday School classes and in our songs. We defend it vigorously when we hear or read it being attacked or undermined. Indeed, no naïve expression of Arminianism will ever go unchallenged in our home group. In 2017, we will no doubt join with many others in celebrating the 500th anniversary of Luther’s Ninety-five Theses, which many regard as the launching point of the Reformation.
But are we really Reformed? How solid are our Reformed convictions these days?
Certainly the Pope seems to now be thinking it’s time to get over this whole Reformation silliness. He is apparently going to personally help kick off the Luther anniversary commemorations. After all, as he said recently, “Today Lutherans and Catholics, Protestants, all of us agree on the doctrine of justification”.
Are we also at that point of seeing the differences between Roman Catholics and Protestants as now so practically small that the Reformation is effectively over?
Most of us will find such a suggestion hard to swallow. We’re not easily fooled by suggestions of ecumenical agreement on key doctrines. In fact, the very word ‘ecumenical’ arouses deep suspicion and vivid mental images of cracks and wallpaper. But I want to ask you today if, when push comes to shove, you really are Reformed. I want to ask if your (Reformed) faith apart from (Reformed) works is dead (if I may borrow from James 2:26).
Here’s the thing: I’m not sure you can call yourself ‘Reformed’ and, firstly, not be active in reaching out to the many Roman Catholics around you, and secondly, not call on the Reformed brothers and sisters in your church to see Catholics as a people group who need to be brought under the sound teaching of the gospel of grace.
Imagine (if you need to!) a well-resourced Reformed church that is aware it needs to grow in its mission effectiveness. This church realizes it is based in a region where one in four people are Roman Catholics. They know that the vast majority of those Catholics around them in their community don’t go to Mass regularly or at all; they know that many of them are disenchanted with the Catholic Church; they know that these Catholics don’t read the Bible; and they know that these Catholics don’t understand justification by faith alone. On the one hand, these Catholics long to be part of a community; on the other hand, they are walking out of their churches in droves. They believe deeply in God, they (mostly) share our ethical values and they value the Bible highly, even while not being sure what it says.
Based on that description, is there a people group that is, humanly speaking, more “white for harvest” (John 4:35)—at least in the part of the world where this church is located? No, I don’t think so. And I don’t think Reformed church leaders think otherwise either.
But is reaching Roman Catholic friends and neighbours part of the articulated mission plan and strategy of Reformed churches? Are they training their members in how to engage with the Catholics around them evangelistically? Are they taking new initiatives and offering programs that cater to this huge evangelistic opportunity?
Sadly, no.
Why? I think the answer is not hard to figure out. Church leaders know that if they start publicly saying that Catholics need to be evangelized, they will get attacked—not by Catholic Church officials (although that may happen occasionally), but by their own church members, and perhaps even some of their church elders.
Don’t believe me? Just ask any pastor in a middle-class white church who has preached in strong(ish) terms against Roman Catholicism from his Protestant pulpit recently. “Are you seriously saying my Catholic friend isn’t a Christian? That’s so bigoted! I thought we were past those petty, hateful days of sectarianism! You don’t know my friend; he/she really loves Jesus!” It takes courage and wisdom to take a stand as a Reformed leader and say, “Let me explain why I think we as a church need to reach out to our Catholic friends and neighbours, and let me explain and show by my example how we can do that better as a church.” And it takes courage as a layman to hear that call and take active steps to reach out to—and potentially offend—Catholic friends.1
But I have a feeling Luther would smile if we celebrated the Reformation anniversary next year by making that commitment and acting on it. Actually, don’t worry about pleasing Luther; let’s just worry about pleasing the Lord by working faithfully and prayerfully on his Great Commission.
If you are looking for resources for evangelism to Roman Catholics, have a look at The God Who Saves, Stepping Out in Faith and The Road Once Travelled.
1 That said, I encourage you to take heart by reading some stories of Roman Catholics who, rather than being offended, are very thankful for having had people love them enough to show them from the Bible the grace of God in Jesus.