The 16th Century Reformation: North and South

When I was a seminary student back in the 1970s – studying in anticipation of ordained ministry within an Evangelical denomination – the 16th Century Protestant Reformation was a black and white issue. We were taught that the theology of the Protestant Reformation was “biblical” and a faithful articulation of the ancient apostolic faith. In contrast, this teaching assumed that the Roman Catholic church was deeply flawed and anyone who was or is true Christian would leave the Catholic church because it was not biblical or a true expression of the church.

I am personally an heir to the theological and spiritual heritage of the 16th century Protestant Reformation. However, after Seminary I came to discover some other voices. There were the older readings I did of theologians and spiritual writers from prior to the 16th century, going all the way back to the early church. I came out of seminary thinking of this period of time as “the dark ages” when there was very little if any authentic faith: for us, the true faith went from the Apostles, to the Reformers [by which we meant the Protestant Reformers], to the contemporary Evangelical church. Everything between the Apostles and these Reformers was “dark.” However, over time I came to appreciate the significance of Augustine and other early church theologians but a myriad of sources from the Middle Ages. In my reading I came to see these as invaluable theological and invaluable spiritual resources – the most notable one being The Imitation of Christ attributed to Thomas a’ Kempis.

But also, I came to the 16th Century and discovered three other voices that were not part of the “Reformation” but which most assuredly were reformers: Ignatius of Loyola, Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross. They were reformers who did not separate from the church of Rome. They experienced significant grief and persecution at the hands of the Inquisition – especially Teresa and John. But still: they refused to break with Rome. They chose, you might say, to be voices of renewal and reform from within the Catholic church. And it is in reading them that my language has changed: I no longer speak of the Protestant Reformation and the “Counter” Reformation but, instead of the Protestant and Catholic Reformations . . . well, actually, my language is evolving further: to speak of the 16th century Reformation of the church with two distinct expressions: the northern Reformation which was “protestant” and led to a schism and the southern Reformation, which was a movement of renewal reform from within. One 16th Century Reformation – north and south.

And what is fascinating is to see common themes between the northern and southern Reformers. Those of my heritage tend to think of the three great themes of the Protestant Reformation – the “solas” of Scripture, Grace and Faith, along with the centrality of Christ. This may be a bit simplistic, but there is some truth here. That the renewal and reformation of the church for the Reformers came in an affirmation of the vital place of the Scriptures in the life of the Church. The affirmation that we only know the salvation of God by grace; it is a gift freely given. And then also, the centrality of faith in Christian experience. Sola Scriptura. Sola Fide. Sola Gratia. All centred around the primacy of Christ in the life and witness of the church: Solus Christus.

So it was fascinating for me as a young man to be guided in prayer while on a retreat structured around the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius Loyola. And then to continue to discover the other voices the world of 16th century Spain – Teresa and John. And to realize, the deeper I went and the further I walked with these authors, that the same themes from the northern Reformation were central to their work as well. In the Spiritual Exercises, the grace I received was to meet Christ through my prayers in an intentional and focused encounter with Christ that was and is mediated to me through the Gospels. The sequence of prayers and exercises drew me into union with Christ – with a desire to know, love and serve Christ and to leave the retreat coming out of the grand conclusion: “the contemplation of the love of Christ.” It was the Exercises that helped me move from an intellectual awareness that I am loved by Christ – a love freely given through unmerited grace – to an affective consciousness of this love. But all of this came not because I had somehow left Scripture behind; to the contrary, Ignatius was the complement of Luther: Luther emphasized the vital place of Scripture for the Christian and for the Church. Through the Exercises I came into a living encounter with this text: that is, Christ revealed himself to me through the Scriptures.

And then I think of the impact and influence of Teresa and John – focusing here in particular on the witness of St. John of the Cross to the centrality of Christ and, especially, to the meaning of faith. John is the giant on this – perhaps the most powerful voice in the history of the church – that when all is said and done, we are left with nothing but our faith that God is there and God is present to us, even in the “dark night of the senses.” Teresa uses the image of the dry well; but the point is the same. It is John who more than any other source helped me to see that in the end that is all we have: our faith in Christ. He accomplishes this as heir to the entire mystical tradition of the Western church but also as a New Testament scholar.

Which leads me to note, then, that both the northern Reformers – John Calvin and Martin Luther – are gifts to the church: not merely to Protestant Evangelicals, but to all Christians. And so it is delightful to see emerging Catholic scholars taking on both Calvin and Luther. And, in like manner, Ignatius Loyola and Teresa and John are gifts to the whole church. And, indeed, as an Evangelical Christian, Ignatius and Teresa and John are my teachers; I draw on their wisdom as eagerly as I lean into the witness of John Calvin and Martin Luther. And I am thrilled to see an emerging generation of Evangelical leaders who are very keen to “do the Exercises” and read and know Teresa’s “Interior Castle” and John’s “Living Flame of Love.”

Thus, it is imperative that as Catholic and Evangelical Christians we get past the “debates” of the 16th Century and ask how all the key reformers, north and south, are gifts to the whole church. Part of what made Diettrich Bonhoeffer one of the most significant theologians of the 20th century is that he did not frame his theology through the lens of the usual debates from the 16th century that has influenced so much theology over the last number of centuries. And his example should encourage us all. We are not either sacramental or evangelical; we refuse to pit Catholic and Evangelical sensibilities against one another. These debates and these points of division should no longer shape the way that we do theology and in our approaches to worship and Christian spirituality. We can and must learn to draw on the wisdom from both sides of the fence. Yes, there is a fence; there is a distinctive Catholic and a distinctive Evangelical theological and spiritual heritage. But we urgently need to tend to the learning that comes from both. The ideal, then, would be that Calvin and Luther are studied in a Catholic Seminary and students at an Evangelical school are taking courses on both John Calvin and John of the Cross.

There is something of interest in all this – perhaps merely a curiosity. Ignatius and Calvin were contemporaries. It seems that both were students at the College de Montague, a constituent college of the University of Paris – very possibly at the same time. I say “possibly” because it seems that the year in which they might have overlapped, 1528, Calvin was leaving for law studies in Orleans while Ignatius was just arriving. But what we know is that they were possibly under the same roof at the same time and without doubt both learned from the same professor. And I naturally wonder: did they perhaps meet? Would it not be fascinating to think of the conversation, if they did meet – that led one to leave the church, in the night, and head to Strasburg and then on to Basel to lead the Protestant wing of the Reformation? And for the other to stay within the Church of Rome and lead one of the most powerful missionary and educational orders in the history of the church – the Jesuits? They were on opposite sides of the debates of that time. But today they are, both of them, gifts to both Catholic and Evangelical Christians.