On Boundaries and Bridges: Lutheran communio and catholicity

 

Dr. Guillermo Hansen

 

 

During the period immediately following the Reformation the newly formed evangelical (Lutheran) churches were accused by Roman polemicists of loosing all of their ecclesial notae, particularly that of catholicity.[1] For them the “ecclesiality” of the ecclesia catholica was guaranteed by the Papacy, while its “catholicity” by the means of the institution extending in space, time and numbers--milestones against which the poor, new and geographically limited evangelical churches could not measure. It was a matter of universality at the expense of identity.

 

The Reformers, on the other hand, hold fast to the idea of the fides catholica, that is, the continuity of the Gospel faith or evangelical tradition as witnessed by the liturgical practice and confessional stand  –the “succession of the faithful” in terms of Luther.[2]  It was a matter of identity over universality, at least in the geographical, numerical and temporal sense.

 

It has not been until quite recently that Lutheranism could speak of the more “extensive” side of catholicity, namely, its presence in different regions and countries beyond those where the Reformation originally evolved.  A child of the pietistic and missionary organizations, and of the great demographical dislocation of Europeans during the 19^th century, the present Lutheran communio spans across the continents and has in some places the full credentials of an “historical” presence. Furthermore, there is a rising sense of catholicity --a redefining of boundaries-- that many will find even uncertain. New dimensions are explored, new spheres are redrawn, and new frontiers have been crossed on the grounds of a “holistic” understanding of the gospel. Has our way of perceiving Lutheran identity been challenged by this novel fact?  Has this newly gained “catholicity” changed the way in which we imagine ourselves as Lutherans? 

 

In the following I shall not attempt to answer the above but contribute with some elements that may guide us in this response. This will approximate an interpretation of how catholicity has been understood by the different churches and/or regions involved in this two-year study of the LWF project “Communio, Community and Society”. To be more precise, this essay aims to pinpoint the frontiers or boundaries that the churches of our Lutheran communio see as the places from which their sense of being witness for the “whole” to the “whole” are played out. Methodologically this will combine an inductive and deductive approach: the data will be limited to what the participants themselves outlined –with all the wealth and limitations that this entails. The self-portrait of the churches done in a context of reflection and deliberation is therefore the object of our analysis, knowing that always this portrayal cannot be but a sketch of the actual, existing churches.

 

At the same time my interpretation will be deductively biased toward one aspect in particular, namely, the interaction between identity and frontiers (margins, boundaries, borders), which will serve to outline the “catholic” profile of the churches. This entails, of course, a notion of catholicity that I will shortly expound, as well as a methodological commitment to see this–and any—expression of the church against the general background of the present global world-processes. 

 

 

I. The art of breeching frontiers

 

Catholicity understood as “identity plus universality”[3] is a definition that I will employ as an operative term in this essay. It has the advantage of being a synthetic expression that amalgamates both an intensive and extensive dimension. In its intensive expression catholicity refers to the fullness of the authentic Christian belief and identity as it has been handed down since the time of the Apostles. To be “catholic” is to be committed to the Gospel of Jesus as understood in that line of interpretation that guaranteed the “wholeness” of the salvific act of God. This was the main thrust behind the great “dogmatic” decisions, such as that of the trinity, the two natures of Christ, and even this “proposal of dogma” that is justification by faith—a very “catholic” doctrine indeed. The Greek adverb kath’ hólou, or the adjective katholikós --“that which is referred to or directed towards the whole, the general”[4]-- precisely conveyed in an explicit way the implicit thrust of the gospel. It is true that this expression was later identified with the church; it was Ignatius of Antioch (ca. 100) who employs the term to communicate the idea of the presence of the whole or complete church in the local settings.[5]  Yet it is critical to note that such an ecclesiological mark (nota) stems from the very nature of the transcendent --as contained in the narratives about Jesus—to which the church bore witness.

 

The gospel of Jesus and about Jesus is precisely the foundation for this concern for the whole that is a crucial mark of the church’s identity. Whether one points to the message of Jesus´ about the Father’s mercy or about the advent of God’s reign, or whether the emphasis is laid upon the stories of Jesus´ ministry as he crossed the many “frontiers” of his time and place (even death)[6], the same notion of a catholic gestalt comes to the front: fullness, wholeness, universality, healing, salvation…. This gestalt, in turn, gives a very specific profile to this body of believers committed with these stories and beliefs.[7] Where “gospel happens”, as it happens when the eternal trespasses the temporality of our existence, the church emerges.  Churches share a universality flowing from the universal gospel.  But this universality is a reality not only at the point of contact between the boundaries of the temporal and the eternal; it is also a reality when crossing the boundaries that separate people in very proximate locations. Therefore by witnessing to the fullness of time the church participates in a proposal for a modification of space.

 

Here lies the “universalistic” aspect that the early church programmatically expressed through the remembrance of Pentecost, the overflowing of a Spirit which trespasses the temporal location of Jesus’ (person and context) to become available to all races, cultures and nations. It is universality sustained by a new identity. It is not by chance, therefore, that the first critical boundary trespassed by the early church was that separating the vision of a localized fulfillment vs. an open one—a case of a new geography, a new “mental map” flowing from a novel eschatological vision.

 

At this point the more common understanding of “catholic” surfaces: spatial extensity, numerical quantity, cultural diversity, and historical breath.[8]  These are encompassed by the all-embracing reality of Christ, which in turn comes to life in the local manifestations of his body. In the best scenario the spatial-historical expression of the being catholic speaks of the gospel’s intrinsic capacity to be precisely a message addressed to all. But not only that, for the vocation of the church is to grasp and actualize its identity in every dimension of life, constantly rediscovering its message and mission in its encounter with these. There is no realm that is intrinsically foreign to the life of the church and its members for nothing created is foreign to the reach of the gospel[9]—although the mode of this presence must be certainly differentiated. It is not a matter for imposing in heteronomous fashion the institutional presence of the church, but to point and witness to the theonomic structure underlining both church and world (“capax dei”).[10]

 

Yet we Lutherans should not be smug at this point, since our concept of “catholicity” –as it will become apparent in our analysis of some regions-- still is clouded by this tendency to strongly reify the catholic dimension of the church to the point of presenting a sort of a “Nestorian” ecclesiological rationale (cfr. Westhelle, India) disguised by the formula of the satis est of Augustana VII. It is as though theologically grounded “structures” (as Sven-Erik Brodd points out) could exist independently from the organizational implementation and expression of such structures. Are we not dragging –both in Europe and beyond—the karma of the unholy alliance between Reformation and the rise of nationalism?[11]  Yet, in our view, there is strong evidence for considering the satis est of Augustana VII as implying that the true identity of the church is inseparable from its true unity…and catholicity. This is one of the points touched upon at the end of this paper.

 

In brief, intrinsic to the concept of catholicity is this tension between identity and universality, consolidation and transgression, tradition and innovation, staying and crossing, local and global, particular and universal. Catholicity, in short, implies not only to be present at the many boundaries, but also to discern which ones need to be crossed, which ones need to be dismantled, and which ones need to be simply named, made visible.  The gospel narratives about the “crossing over” –a programmatic drive in Jesus´ ministry and God’s mercy and love—also entails that not every boundary has the same capacity to “reveal” the essence and identity of the gospel. Not every bridge is capable of a transit to the whole.

 

The task now is to see how the local churches that we visited and listened to understand this tension that is implicit in the catholic drive of the gospel. I shall take the notion of frontier (boundary, borders, margins) as the locus from which to explore this question.  Secondly, some conclusions as to the possible sense that we can give to catholicity, considering the conditions attached to the processes of globalization will be offered. As Leonardo Boff has pointed out, the reality that we loosely term “globalization” forces a redefinition of the meaning of being “catholic” and current paradigms of being church.[12]  In this regard our view must go beyond the “effects” of globalization in spheres such as work, technology, communications, demography and national allegiances, to extend to a conception of “field” or “fabric” within which our churches live and move. Globalization, in other words, is more than the sum of its parts, is more than a (neo-liberal) economic expansion, it is more than one social order or a single process; it is a new regime of production of space and time emerging from multiple movements and forces involving different combinations between the local and the global as well as between the local and the local.[13]  In brief, it is a new field within which processes of homogenization as well as fragmentation are constantly reordering boundaries, and therefore the “place” of the church.

 

What does it mean to be church, and what is the value of its “catholic” dimension in the midst of this reordering? For the purposes here outlined the answer will attempt to imagine the place of our Lutheran communio within the new “universality” of globalization. In what follows we shall gather some threads that may point to an incipient new proposal for relating the local and the global, a proposal that may outline a new strategy challenging the heteronomous dynamics of globalization. Could it be that a sort of “globalization from below” may help us also to imagine a role for our global communion of churches? Can we be a significant net in the midst of the texture of our present world? Can we move on and affirm that catholicity is the external basis of communio, and communio the internal basis of catholicity? Are we at the boundary of a truly epochal change, one that will bring a significant ecclesiological change?

 

 

II. Learning to be catholic, or how to build bridges across fluctuating boundaries

 

In this section I shall review the different regions visited with the intention of picking up some threads that are relevant to our proposed theme. The reader should be warned that in most cases I will concentrate upon the presentations of the host country of the region visited, which for organizational reasons had more time allotted to them.

 

 

Asia: an overwhelming otherness

 

Of all the regions visited this is the one where the word “globalization” most often surfaced.  My general impression is that the category “globalization” worked as a catch phrase for all manner of economic and social ills – the “West” identified as its main culprit.[14] Globalization was seen as a new form of “political and economic colonialism” (Rajaratnam), a new system of oppression that creates new forms of bondage, slavery and debt. In spite of the somehow obscure and ominous perception of globalization (a matter to which I shall return) it is beyond doubt that the Indian churches have put their prophetic finger upon a very critical issue; what sort of communio can be practiced in the midst of the asymmetrical realities created by the onslaught of financial capital? In our analysis this question reads as the identification of a frontier, a boundary that raises important issues as to the claim of the church’s catholicity, touching at the same time the core of the typical Lutheran hermeneutic of the two governances (regiments, governments, formerly “kingdoms”).

 

While this concern outlined an implicit self-understanding of the church in its prophetic role vis-à-vis the economic ills of society, it is interesting to point out that this prophetic nature –more strongly present in those regions were Lutheranism is a minority—was also accompanied by a sort of priestly representation of those most excluded in society, the so-called dalit (outcasts). In effect, the dalit seem to embody the messianic characteristics of a “remnant”, characteristics that in turn are shared by the church that is in solidarity with them. The fact is, however, that very few outcasts, not to mention cast-Indians, are actually Christians—and even less so Lutherans. Here one dimension of catholicity seems at odds with another; the lack of “extension” militates against the ability of the church to actualize its identity from that social and cultural location. Why is that in spite of this powerful prophetical voice the dalit themselves do not seem to feel interpreted or represented by the (Lutheran) church?

 

It seems to me that the Lutheran churches in India are very conscious of the socio-political boundaries, and in this score are quite aware of the social dimension of the catholic identity. But at the same time one may also raise the question as to whether the churches have failed or succeeded in capturing from within the critical threads of dalit identity in order to tie them with that of Christianity. In fact the knots seem rather loose and very sparse. The church may assume a prophetic and priestly role, even be an important nexus between different “people’s movements”, yet the “people” seem to be not religiously drawn by its ministrations. The point is that the prophetic voice requires a sacramental basis, an incarnate life to draw upon, a substantial abundance mediated by people who are captured by the eschatological vision. Without it, sooner or later the prophetic fuel runs out (a point that we shall see also in Latin America). Is this due to external factors such as the increasing rise of Hindu nationalism, or are there more “theological”, internal reasons?  Can the Lutheran voice be more than a voice? Is the church simply overwhelmed by the symbolic and cultural complexity of Hinduism? 

 

The case of India is, indeed, unique. Nowhere the church is faced with such a formidable religious-social-cultural complex as it is here. It may well be the case, however, that the minority situation of the Indian sample may well bespeak of a new “catholicity” that the Christian church has never heard nor imagined before, namely, the inexhaustible depth of the God that we witness, who may in fact contemplate different soteriological ends or fulfillments.[15] But even if this is so one cannot hide the fact that the “social project” that the church sacramentally embodies seems irremediable at odds with that of, for example, Brahaminical Hinduism and its legitimation of caste distinctions. Another possibility exists, namely, that the minority church may assume a universal role precisely mediating a wider and global perspective in contexts that are prone to new fundamentalistic and nationalistic drives. But again, if the church lacks a deep contextual anchorage the (unfounded) accusation of the “foreignness” of Christianity is soon raised up, barring the church of meddling in local affairs. At any rate, this is a frontier that is not restricted to the churches in India, but pertains –in this newly globalized world—to all of us. How catholic can the church be? What happens to the catholic drive in face of the existing –and expanding—world religions?

 

There is a third frontier that recurrently surfaced, and paradoxically cohabits with the critical vocation of the church in the face of globalization: the form in which power is exercised in the church. There was a broad consensus that a wide chasm existed between bishops, clergy and church officials on the one hand, and the people or laity on the other.  What kind of chasm? It seems to be a matter tied up with an endogenous social status rather than actual economic distinctions. While it is true that members of the church at large, as well as its ministers and officials, are always engaged in a process whereby power must gain acceptance, the question is what kind of power must the church retain in order to express the fullness of its identity?  What symbolic horizon regulates the exchange of power?  It was quite evident that the concept of koinonia or communio did not lend itself as a rule or criterion for the understanding of community and therefore of power. Strong boundaries seemed to exist reflecting a structure of power that distorted the gospel message. It is as though the relationships that govern the churches in India militate against the wholeness and integrity of the catholic thrust. Might it be that the churches in India, at this particular point, are as “Indian” as their surrounding context? Is there a particular conception of the sacred that has not been “baptized” by the gospel of Christ?  Have the dividing boundaries of society surreptitiously crept in?

 

Summarizing: I found in this region a clear understanding of the “unholiness” of the caste-boundaries, and a prophetic call against the destructive drives of the new economic order termed globalization. The latter will be in tone with frontiers also identified in other regions. Yet I also found an uncertain position concerning God’s presence mediated by other religions (a legitimate field to ponder about the “catholicity” of God), and a paradoxical drive embodied in the internal stratification of the church that jeopardizes the church’s integrity and credibility.

 

 

Africa: the growing presence of Lutheranism

 

Two things struck me in our visit to this region: first, all presentations save one (Madagascar) mentioned either the concept “wholeness” or “holistic”; second, this was the region that most clearly articulated a “substantial” theological understanding of the sacramental dimension of the church in its call to embody the universal call of Jesus (notably Biyela and Kasukuti). Both aspects bear heavily upon our theme.

 

A sense of what is meant by the idea of wholeness or holistic can be perceived in the following assertions: “It is the degree to which the Church is capable in meeting (sic) social needs which determines the degree of her relevance in society” (Leonard Mbilinyi); “the relevance of the Church in any given society is seen when she enables the people of such society to enjoy the wholeness of life” (Id.); “communion, community and society are one and the same, and they are not only part of African life but make life itself in its holistic measure and definition” (Mdegella); “[the church’s policy] is to serve the whole person” (Endashaw); “the church today understands herself to be responsible for all the aspects of human needs” (Hasheela). One should also say that there were important qualifications to these definitions, but overall they enjoyed a wide consensus.

 

It was interesting to note that the interpretation given by the African participants showed an implicit –and strong—inculturalization of the notion of wholistic: for them it was the natural, African way of understanding matters pertaining to body and spirit. Reference to what was called “primal world-view of Africans” (Mbilinyi) stressed once and again the wholistic anthropology[16] of this region. The encompassing, all-embracing church seems to be the ecclesiological model which best suited the Gospel brought by the Europeans as it met the African soul. “Classroom, clinic and cross” (the three “c’s”) erected, at least in some regions, a powerful compound.  The church seems to be so “catholic” in its embrace that one wonders what is left out of it!

 

The picture, however, have some rough edges. In the first place one may wonder if this ecclesiological model really came forward by a thoughtful process of inculturalization from the hermeneutical horizon of the African “primal world-view”. While the important role of missionaries in bringing this about was always valued, one has to ponder if this “all-embracing” character of the church is a mere expression of the African soul or the result of failed attempts of modernization and development. Might it be possible that the church is occupying a field that results from the systematic failure (or sheer absence) of other institutions in society? Could it not only be the result of economic poverty, but also of the weakness of civil society itself?

 

Perhaps the latter is too much of a “Western” concept to be applied to Africa, yet I feel entitled to posit this view since it was a problem brought forth by two participants in slightly different fashions. One stated that in her view the role of the church is not to replace the social responsibilities of the State, but to strengthen civil society. Quoting the German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer (Ethics), she reminded us that “the space of the church is not there in order to try to deprive the world of a piece of its territory, but in order to prove to the world that it is still the world which is loved by God…” (Mghwira). Interestingly Mghwira found in Bonhoeffer´s  repristination of Luther’s hermeneutics of the two regimes an important tool for addressing and redressing the lack of clear boundaries in the social responsibilities and engagements of her church!. Other participants indirectly agreed, hinting at an unholy acquiescence between the power of the church as “provider” of services, and the defenseless and poor “consumer” –yet not devoid of a questionable traditional perspective. Diakonia takes the place of koinonia when “people need to see the immediate social implications of the [church’s] presence among them. People are more and more blind to the significance of the Christian faith…they prefer the preaching of the gospel to all people to be replaced by secular diakonia…” (Thomas Nyiwé).

 

It seems to me that many of the African churches have, in a sense, a too heteronomous conception of their catholic dimension, thus interpreting that the church itself must be the protagonist in all spheres and areas of life that have do with the development of the whole person.[17] While this concern is undoubtedly a good hermeneutic of the gospel’s goals, it confuses the means by which these promises may be proleptically and partially realized. There can certainly be no objection that the church can and must undertake different responsibilities in the social field; the problem is when by so doing either she impoverishes both civil society and the state (for removing some of its responsibilities), or she becomes an hindrance to her own religious credibility.  There is another way to realize the catholic call of the church when out of her identity she is called to empower the goals of other institutions and groupings as theonomous expressions of her own witness.

 

The lack of clear boundaries seems to be, at least in some African cases, the main hindrance to its catholicity—wholeness-rhetoric notwithstanding. Even some aspects for the possibilities of a sustainable economic development might be tied to this. But the lack of boundaries that leads to confusion between the church as community and the church as society (see Dietz Lange’s response) has another side-effect: the close ties established between tribal identity and religious allegiance—or church organization, as in dioceses divided along tribal or linguistic lines (Tanzania). Again, one can see that this is not a mere “African” problem; in fact it has been one of the main strategies of Christian mission throughout its history (whether Roman catholic, Orthodox or Protestant). But it becomes a problem when ethnos is equated with koinonia. Most of the times the church simply adapts itself to an a-priori scheme of power and identity, jeopardizing not only the proper gospel understanding of power (Cfr. India) but also the very catholicity that the church is sacramentally bound to signify. In the end it does not matter that the boundaries of church or denomination coincide with an ethic or tribal group, as is that the tribal or ethnic is made to coincide with that of the church!

 

This problem was precisely voiced by the representative of one of the South African churches (Biyela)—which may speak of the hermeneutical disclosure of a different multicultural human geography. He strongly emphasized that the sacramental representations should become the basis for an African ecclesiology, assuming that it opens up a different terrain to reimagine the quite fragmented tribal geography. “We need to stress the sacramental dimension of the Eucharist…the blood of Christ can bind those who have different bloods”.  What I liked in his interpretation is that he seemed to imply that one need not change “bloods”, but to make it flow in quite another system. It is a matter of a new organic identity—a theme to which I shall return.

 

Summarizing: I found in this region one of the most explicit conceptions of the “wholeness” implied by the gospel, yet a lack of precise boundaries insofar as the institutional presence of the church in society is concerned. The two regimes hermeneutic, as for example reinterpreted by Bonhoeffer, may be a valuable theological tool for the churches of this region. There was also a good theological understanding of the universality of God’s call in Christ, yet a difficulty in expressing such call beyond the tribal confines. May it be that processes apparently “alien” to the action of the gospel (economic development, demographic displacements, urbanization, etc.) might in fact very soon change this reality? Whatever the answer one thing is clear: this appears to be one of the regions that will strongly shape the future face of Lutheranism.

 

 

Latin America: a region choked by impasse?

 

Of all regional meetings this has been by far the more disappointing one. During the last few decades Latin America has been a region generating new perspectives and identifying new challenges. Yet, present day challenges brought in by a new world situation and the deflation of historical expectations appear not to have been either theologically or sociologically digested by the churches in this region. A sort of “magic realism”[18], stemming from a fascination with the radicalism and purity of ethical principles and voluntaristic strategies, appear to dominate any serious attempt to step down onto the prosaic and harsh density of economic and social rationalities. Yet, trying to resolve in a mythical way the quandary of the mismatch between longings for justice and progress and the cold facts of economical calculus, between the imagined and the real, seem one of the biggest problems pending to be faced. When no compromising bridge is found, a pervasive disenchantment ensues: it is expressed as either a romantic rejection or as a pragmatic accommodation. At this juncture we find a frontier outlined by a “mental map” thoroughly shaped by utopia instead of teletopia. There is no room for relative or compromising solutions, just romantic and dramatic ones. This promotes a mentality of a mythical belief that the continent is periodically visited from “outside” either by grace or disgrace, as though it were the fatal victim of a world conspiracy or benevolence.[19]

 

Yet there are some elements that one can rescue for our inquiry that reflect a vivid undercurrent still present. What were some of the boundaries detected? In what terrain(s) the catholicity of the church was felt to be played out? The categories employed by one of the presenters, that of the new margins or borders in society are noteworthy. Inclusion/exclusion appeared as an important category for defining the new dynamics governing society (Altmann, Yutzis). Thus to the ministry with “traditional” victims of displacement or oppression–landless peasants, unemployed, the poor, refugees, etc—are now added the ”new” faces of exclusion[20]—women, victims of HIV-AIDS, drug-users, prostitutes, travesties, gay and lesbians, etc. (Orlov, Bock).  From these “places”, from the new faces of suffering, some of the churches recognize the call of Christ who told his disciples that he would be present where the dignity of the people was wounded. In this fashion many Latin American churches recreate some of the elements of a theology of the cross that has been correlated with the “crucifieds” by history, culture, society and even church.

 

But while these elaborations spoke of a deep theological mediation of the present situation, the ecclesiological response led these issues into the realm of the paradox. For it was also hinted that the most formidable boundary to the church’s mission was precisely the unwillingness and unfaithfulness of the actual communities in heeding to this call –at least in what appertains to the integration of these boundaries within the sphere of the community gathering around Word and Sacraments (Orlov). Theological, cultural and ecclesiological reasons were mentioned for this fact, yet the walls of the church were clearly pictured as the most formidable obstacle to realize its full catholic identity (Deifeldt, Ströher). One way to “sublimate” this paradox between call and actual identity may be reflected in the sharp distinction detected between koinonia and diakonia (cfr. infra).

 

Related to this, another topic came into view that combined multiple issues pertaining to identity, mission, culture and church. Within the macro-paradigm of inclusion/exclusion the identifying tag of “justification by grace through faith” appeared once and again. How did this category operate? Clearly as a boundaries-redrawing principle which not only “placed” the church’s mission in society (cfr. above), but also provided a strong identity marker vis-à-vis the Roman Catholic church. While the ecumenical cooperation with the Roman Catholic Church was repeatedly pointed out (especially in regards to social and economic causes), it is also a fact that Lutherans clearly perceive themselves as qualitatively different from their Roman Catholic partner. This qualitative distinction has to do with a perceived ecclesiological inclusiveness whereby Lutherans put a high emphasis upon forgiveness and freedom (García). The “catholic” identity of the Lutheran church, one could say, is confirmed by the freedom that it bestows upon its members. Justification, inclusiveness, forgiveness and freedom--that seems to be the winning formula.

 

Of all the regions visited the relation between justification and (church) identity has been the strongest here. Yet a sort of autonomous “antinomianism” appeared to underlie this notion, presumably biased in dialectical reference to the heteronomous practice of the Roman Catholic Church. In classical terms, justification was set against the backdrop of a freedom from, but little was heard as to what this freedom was for. One of the outcomes of this appears to be a weak sense of community understood as a task that stems from our freedom. This becomes particularly important when defining the boundaries and identity of the church. While it is true that most churches insisted upon diaconic outreach (loosely termed as “mission”), it is also true that this activity was clearly seen as something that the church “gives”.

 

Nothing is in principle wrong with this picture, but it becomes so when the notion of “giving” is confined to the services that the church provides. In this vein, perhaps the main service that the church can provide –itself as a community that gathers around the Gospel and the sacraments—is brushed from the picture. The church is here to give, never to receive. The fact is, however, that the valuable prophetic role and the ecclesiological model of the servant (cfr. Dulles) may act as an impediment for a different ecclesiology that unashamedly could present itself as a space opened for all.[21]  Evangelization and mission are set as boundary-markers for “evangelicals” and “liberals”. But this is a kind of vicious circle, whereby the catholic identity of the church looks as if it never is able to realize itself. Is this responsible in part for the meager numbers of the Lutheran presence in this region? Is religious, spiritual or theological “quality” set up in too sharp of a fashion, creating a sort of new exclusiveness in the name of inclusiveness? Can the Latin American ethos “qualify” for Lutheran freedom?  Are Latin Americans “worthy” enough to become Lutherans? Voices calling for a true inculturalization of Lutheranism in Latin America clearly point to a very important frontier in this regard (Orlov, Brakemeier).

 

The last boundary that I want to mention is perhaps the most difficult one, although not very much elaborated upon in the meeting. The topic was indirectly approached through the reality of the magnificent growth of the Pentectostal churches in Latin America, particularly among the poor (Hoffmann). Here I link a frontier that has to do with the exclusive character of the Lutheran inclusiveness mentioned above, with the capability of Lutheranism to articulate from within the religious expectations and needs of the Latin American people –particularly among the popular (poor) sectors. Exploring the Latin American region a sort of false sense of catholicity may come into sight if by this term we simply point to the institutional-diaconical presence of the church in those borders, margins and places marked by the category of exclusion. For in effect, what kind of church can we be if our presence can never be actualized as the presence of community? It is as though Lutheran churches indeed express a catholic vocation in regards to service (an ecclesiological model in itself), but not so much in regards to essence (insofar this is expressed as the rights of the other, the different, to be an integral part of our community). Can the object of our action become really a subject?  Pentecostalism may be theologically criticized in many aspects; the point is that their growth has shown that there is a religious demand that is poorly addressed by Lutheranism—among other “mainline” Protestant churches. I said before that this is a formidable demand because it touches the religious core of an ecclesiological identity, namely, the model through which one imagines how to be church. Should not a sacramental model help to qualify the excessive stress upon the servant model of the church? 

 

In summary: The identification of the axis inclusion/exclusion as the means for erecting new boundaries in society and culture is a very important tool for redrawing the church’s sense of being catholic. There also was a strong sense of the “intensive” dimension of catholicity, but the “extensive” expressions are rather lame—especially as it touches the numbers of people drawn into their communities.

 

 

North America: multiculturality and church

 

In this regional meeting, the noticeable social demarcations in the presentations reflecting the different social settings of the presenters were remarkable. Prioritization of different boundaries, therefore, was bound to emerge. I shall start with one of them corresponding to the identification of a boundary existing between “rural America” and “agrobusiness“ (LaBlanc, Lipper Schauer, Duty). It is not simply a matter of the classical distinction between “city and country”, for what is encompassed in the description of the “rural” often refers to towns and small cities linked by an economic basis centered upon a “family-farm” mode of production. In fact, it was about the conflict emerging between a vital form of capitalism in American history (with its foundation in the homestead harmonically linked to the industrial economies of cities), and the new globalized world-economy (its face, as revealed in this context as “the globalization of the food system”). It is interesting that strong and anglo-American values were mentioned at the time of describing the realities of “rural America”: independence, family, freedom, caring, fair trade and competition, localism, etc.; a sort of reservoir of tried and true all-American virtues. 

 

The point in contention was not whether the church was able to manifest its presence in this context—as far as membership and composition are concerned, the Lutheran church in the United States is significantly composed by “rural” congregations in the widest sociological sense.[22] Rather, the issue at stake was the apparent inability of the church to be an effective force in protecting the economic and social structures supporting such a large percentage of its membership. This quote summarizes the issue well: “In 1999 we stand on the edge of a precipice. There is a very real crisis going in American agriculture. Prices for most commodities are at their lowest levels in 50 years. Farm families are hurting. Does anyone care? Does the church care? …The average person in the pew of a rural congregation wonders if anyone really cares about them” (Lippert Schauer). A strong feeling of disenfranchisement goes hand in hand with an increasing proletarization of former farm-owners. A social class is disappearing to be replaced by large corporations in a system which, ironically, will introduce a new form of serfdom from which many of the Europeans immigrants once escaped –at least as it is perceived in the popular “mythology” of farmers and ranchers (see LaBlanc).

 

Beyond this frontier signaled by the responsibilities and possibilities for the church to locate itself as the advocate for an economic basis and a lifestyle rapidly disappearing, there is another, larger boundary that looms: the tension between the local and the global. I am not speaking merely of the obvious fact of diverse economic interests, but when these interests are purview as a serious barrier to a real catholic expression of the church (cfr. India, Rajaratnam). The following summarizes this well: “What does it mean to the average person in the pew of a rural congregation to be in communion with millions of other Lutherans around the world? Some of those millions of Lutherans are the very people that are engaged in a trade war with us” (Lippert Schauer). In no other context such bluntness had been so present as here; nowhere else the socio-economic boundaries were so dramatically portrayed. So sharp was the distinction between the dynamics of the local and the global that strong boundaries were also established between the local and the local—when the local-cosmopolitan is perceived as serving interests contrary to the local-rural (“A Tale of Two Towns”, LaBlanc). Can the catholic sense of being a communio be of any assistance at this point?

 

Speaking of two towns, the boundaries stemming from presenters from urban and suburban locations were quite different. Here multiculturalism was the catch phrase for a network of boundaries set in constant negotiation. At one point, a lively discussion ensued as to the degree of representation of those representing ethnic or minority groups, signifying that a different set of boundaries exists inside the compound of defined identities. Be that as it may, the fact remains that the churches in North America have been the most vocal churches in this regard for the universality and multicultural dimensions of a truly catholic church. A paradigmatic example –notwithstanding typical American idiosyncrasies—is set here for the rest of the Lutheran communio. The diversity and equal representation of our meeting was a lively statement as to what the North American churches want to be.

 

To want, however, is not the same as to be. The question remains, therefore, whether this “multiculturalism” is more an imagined than actual fact.  In other words, to what extent is the global or universal dimension signified by multiculturalism actually present at the local, congregational level. Is multiculturalism built from below or vice versa? At this point one may wonder if the boundaries signified by ethnic or other identity-markers (women, gay-lesbian, etc.) do not tend to acquire a life of their own, subject to a sort of process of “essentialization” (reification), which ends up de facto legitimizing multicultural separatism.[23]  If identities are essential, it is difficult to envision anything new, any critical principle that may question aspects of the other’s identity that may be oppressive for the common good. Probably these identities coming into view where boundaries touch seem more promising for a more thoroughly multicultural vision; shall we rather speak of a critical multiculturalism which places mestizaje or mixing of traditions as something to be more highly regarded? There is always a history of violence behind processes of mestizaje, but equally violent are dialectics of “the same and the other” involved in the process of revindicating one’s (particular) identity.

 

Finally, some concluding thoughts about the theological perspectives of the churches in the region should be mentioned. Overall –in contrast to other regions, especially Africa and Latin America—the conversation was dominated by a rather thin theological description (yet with plentiful references to the world of experience as locus of new religious insight). Was this the logical consequence stemming from a multiculturalism that simply celebrates “being oneself”? In the North American context certainly one cannot speak of a lack of engagement with society and culture, but one wonders if the same enthusiasm is invested in key theological issues that reflect a critical appraisal for this engagement.  The exceptional note was given by one of the representatives of the church in Canada (Leichnitz). He referred to a theology of the cross as a symbolic and practical counterpoint to the success-driven ideology of the North—American societies.  Here a boundary was drawn that every church true to its identity must make: the prophetic boundary between herself and the surrounding culture. I believe that in his exposition was truly present this awesome sense of the Otherness of the cross that is really the foundation for critical encounter with others.

 

Summarizing: This is a region that clearly expressed its willingness to explore the catholic implications of being a world-communio of churches; a strong emphasis on multiculturalism spelled out one of the most important places from which today our churches should understand its catholic practice. Likewise it showed a strong sense that the definition of the local church cannot ignore the self-definitions of the global church. Yet something to be noted is a tendency to be too much of a reflection of societal and political boundaries without casting a new social vision that may fuel alternative social practices.

 

 

Europe: the eclipse of Lutheranism?

 

By the time we reached Europe we have had a good exposure to the different expressions of Lutheranism around the globe, as well as to the new forces of integration and fragmentation within the societies where Lutheran churches are present. But while in all these regions the local component has obviously been a target of analysis, nowhere as in Europe have the idiosyncrasies of the local concerns so eclipsed the global.

 

In effect, one of the first boundaries identified was the one represented by the new process of European integration –being the European Union itself, as well as the new map resulting from the dissolution of the former Eastern block. A new sense of the local seems to be coming into view, where the category of region plays a very important role. National barriers seem, in some places, to be falling (Fischer, Alsace-Rhineland), creating a new sense of “region” –and thus creating a new map for church mission. In other places old church boundaries seem quite outdated in the face of relatively new political boundaries (Germany). The fluctuation and movement of people signified by the European integration can also be seen in the identity of the Italian church, maintaining close ties with German and Scandinavian churches.

 

Still, however, the larger horizon or boundary that European churches seem to envision were those of Europe itself, with very little reference to realities beyond those of the old continent (even the notion of “region” is no more than an expansion of already quite homogeneous traits). This could be seen both at the level of the analytic discourse as well as in the defined identity of the European churches themselves. In the first case world realities were referred to insofar as they affect the present European status quo—identified either as the problem of immigration and challenge to European identities, or with the destabilization of the welfare state by the new labor conditions. Seldom was mentioned the role of Europe and its economic power in the present world-arena, especially in relation to the actual subsidizing role of the world’s resources maintaining the cherished European high-standard of living. In the second case, as to the identities of some European churches, at most an historical or ethnic link seem to be all that connects them with churches outside of Europe –and also within Europe itself (cfr. the case of Russia, Tichomirow).  The only significant kind of relationship that seems to loom in their purview is that of the mother-daughter churches. This appears in a marked contrast with other regions were the global dimension of communio were much stressed upon, triggering the search for new modes of relating.  

 

Social analysis also pointed out another boundary that seems quite peculiar to the European scenario: that of population aging and the concomitant “generational gap”. The church as one of the few spaces in society for the encounter between generations was peculiarly emphasized in Germany (“community of communications”, Overlach), although the same could be said for the situation in the Scandinavian countries. The role of the church as bringing together the old and the young (a vital element of catholicity) was also seen as a model for other social boundaries and the role which the church may have in bridging them: unemployed and working people, the established and the marginalized, the native and the immigrant. Where churches were evidently in a majority situation the church was imagined as a valuable player in civil society (Hannover); where churches were in a minority situation the language of mission and reaching out were most often heard (Saxony, France, Italy, Slovakia, Hungary, Russia). In this context it was spoken of “being church with others” (Münchow).

 

The latter clearly shows that a distinction between the situation of minority churches and those that could be called either majority, regional or national churches, is a very marked feature of the European scenario.  Eventually this will evolve into different ecclesiological perspectives interacting with different stances in society and culture, as for example was posited by the concept of “voluntary minority church” (Münchow). Therefore “mission” (and/or evangelization), is evaluated differently and places the entire supply-side of the religious equation in a very diverse light. 

 

Following our focus upon the catholic dimension of the church, the large European churches present a very interesting case where a dialectical relationship appears to exist between the latitude and spaciousness of its borders and the depth and breadth of its appeal; a matter of universality vs. identity (the situations of the Nordic churches, especially those of Norway and Denmark, and to a different degree that of Sweden come immediately to mind).[24]  For in effect:  what does it mean to be a large Lutheran church within a context that seems quite content in its social and economic achievements? In the lands of the sagas and myths there still appears to be a sort of a “Lutheran mythology” that makes it difficult for those churches to come to grips with a culture and society that has gone well beyond the traditional institutional forms of religion in their quest for meaning. It looks as if these churches were bogged down by the tension to maintain its structural place in face of changes produced in society, seeking new institutional readjustments (Sweden). At the core, however, at stake here is the seemingly inability to re-imagine boundaries without falling into the (Weberian) dichotomy church vs. sect, as well as the difficulties in unraveling national identity and ecclesial affiliation.[25]

 

This matter clearly surfaced as some of the main concerns in the Scandinavian churches. The spokesperson for Norway, for example, pointed out the ecclesiological tension existing in her country between a communio conceived as embracing all the baptized members (guaranteed by the Constitution), and one which restricts its borders to those who actively gather “around the altar for communion” (Tonnessen). A similar chord was struck by the representative of Denmark, who insisted upon the spaciousness, openness and latitude of the boundaries of the Danish church for ensuring “extensive spiritual freedom without the risk of loosing membership”  (Gammeltoft-Hansen). But while the concept of inclusiveness, space and latitude is undoubtedly both attractive in the midst of our postmodern fragmentation, as well as resonant with a catholic thrust, the “quality” of the identity that is purchased at such a price remains to be seen.

 

Does not this type of latitudinarian, “broad” ecclesiology, speak de facto of an acquiescence to the role conferred either by national constitutions or legislations--not to mention their bondage to different political interests? Are not these churches in bondage to the territory defined by ethnicity or language? What kind of notae are these? In view of this picture it is impossible not to sympathize with some of Kierkegaard´s thoughts as he blasted a church that looks as if it had lost its soul.  The point is that baptism and citizenship seem to collapse into one another. It is worth noting that baptism and discipleship are not markers of different ecclesiologies but constitute a whole.[26]  That baptism is tied up with discipleship should not come as a surprise for a tradition that not only cherished the Pauline perspective in its interpretation of the Christ event (cfr. Rom 6:4), but which has also repeated the same notion in its symbolic books.[27] This appears to be the key theological theme in the attempt to supersede false boundaries between majority and minority, between church and sect, between nation and church. For in the end our “suffering the call of Christ” sets the real boundaries which mark the passage from a people’s church to a church of people (Wiberg-Pedersen). In brief, the bottom line with these latitudinarian ecclesiologies is that their very “broadness” becomes a threat to its catholic impetus, and therefore to its very essence as a church.

 

Summarizing: This region has expressed a strong concern to readapt to the present social and political conditions of Europe; but often this adaptation is confused with a reordering of institutional structures that little affect the missionary drive of the churches. The strong regional ties and cooperation that some folk- or land- churches have with churches in a minority situation (especially in Eastern Europe) are worth noting; however the weak sense manifested regarding an awareness of sharing and belonging to a world-wide, truly catholic communio –beyond the imagery of an extension of European mother churches—calls into question their catholic consciousness.

 

 

III. Conclusion: the Lutheran communio of churches as narratives for a catholic plot

 

Our journey ended on the continent that witnessed the birth of the Reformation, and more precisely in one of the “hubs” of 20^th century Lutheranism, Lund. Yet our travels around the globe already brought to light the many cultural, social, national and geographical boundaries that Lutheranism has crossed since the 16^th century. Indeed, we are in a position to state that in at least in some sense our communion can be said to have a truly catholic vocation both in its intensive as well as extensive dimensions. Yet it is within the latter that a notion looms still quite “green” in our midst, namely, our ability to think of ourselves as organically related. It is as though we have not yet figured out the shape that catholicity as the external basis of our communio, and communio as the internal basis of our catholicity, should take.

 

That this vocation is a growing fact seems to me tied not only with a process of theological reflection around the ecclesiological theme of communio, but with the new challenges and thrust posited by the process of globalization. The link between socio-political events and theological and ecclesiological ideals is not something new. Jaroslav Pelikan,[28] for example, noted that the Patristic ideal of catholicity was indeed older than Christianity itself; for in effect, the church rode on a “catholic” expectation that was prepared by the Roman Empire and the strong philosophical currents popular at that time (Stoicism, for example). In a similar fashion it could be said that the contradictory phenomena coined as globalization function as an analogous space that opens new possibilities for the expression of the catholic identity of the Christian church. On the positive side this new landscape or field has meant, among other things, an intensification of cross-cultural and inter-social communicative action that harbors deep promises for a new universalism and catholicity –as I shall note briefly.

 

As far as the intensive side of the catholic impulse is concerned we noted in our visits a common theological legacy, or a common theological frame, which maps a (symbolic) territory that is shared by our different Lutheran churches. That is the case, for example, with the concepts of justification, grace and cross, which for many express the irreducible catholic drive of the gospel that in turn outlines a semantic field within which old and new boundaries for the catholic expression of the church are identified.  While I perceived different stresses, I did not perceive any basic disagreement as to these identifiers of Lutheran identity, truly catholic in scope. Moreover, considering the quietistic effect that a misuse of the two kingdoms doctrine have had, almost all churches agreed that this catholic (universalistic, wholistic, inclusive) drive is expressed by the active and critical engagement of the community with those boundaries and realities that precisely hinders the catholic dimension of the gospel.  This speaks of a characteristic of the perceived Lutheran identity, namely, its commitment to see the identity of the gospel actualized in every dimension of life. The different “boundaries” detected above reflect the different strategies by which our churches seek to express this drive. Our identity, therefore, is not a matter of fueling the inertial drive of the past (tradition), but an event that permanently flows from breeching the boundaries met by the church. The catholic vocation of our churches comes to light as they attempt to grasp and actualize the gospel in every dimension of life, constantly rediscovering its message and mission in its encounter with these.

 

Yet here a more critical issue comes into view that has to do with some aspects of the catholic ideal that are expressed by and through these critical engagements by our churches. This comprises at least two levels that are related to the structural-organizational medium of a catholic drive, and the sort of “mental map” spawned by this drive. Both levels, however, belong to a single reality: the “ecological” system and mental outlook that the Lutheran network of churches is likely to bring forth.

 

First, while we spoke of the catholic vocation of our churches it is also a fact that often the churches visualize their engagements as autonomous, not to say as autarchic modes of expression, quite unrelated to any global strategy set out to critically address the fragmentation and asymmetries produced by globalization. While the local action is valuable (as noted above), the final criteria for action always become the local, almost the parochial, without any effective way of communicating across the local toward common strategies. Therefore the global and its implications are mostly addressed through the mediations offered by structures of economic and political nature, inevitably ruled by the logic of geopolitics and the relative increasing of local standings. But, what other type of mediation regarding the global can members of our churches visualize? 

 

I believe that the processes of globalization presents a new window of opportunity for a communio of churches to actualize one of its catholic components, both at a local as well as a global level. If the process of globalization is a reordering of boundaries that separate the global and the local, should not a catholic outlook empower churches to both become more organically linked as well as engage in strategies that effect a different dynamic to globalization, a globalization “from below”?[29] I am afraid that only strategies of this sort will help not only to promote vital spaces where the threatened life on this planet can flourish. It is also an indispensable tool to redress the instinctive local “ghettoization” that seems the only solution for many “localities” as they face the asymmetrical effects of globalization. Only an effective “catholic” symbolization of our identities can provide an alternative to an instinctive “falling back” upon the certainties of the local expressions.

 

The matter, therefore, is not simply related to the ability of drawing common strategies in face of common dangers or challenges; perhaps more importantly it has to do with the creation of a symbolic space that allows members to conceive a sort of “citizenship” or belonging that supersedes the natural, instinctive identification with the local—a possibility, nay, a necessity spawned by the new geography of globalization. Here the relation local-global, with its ecclesiological correlates, becomes a critical issue for it is constantly resignified by the speed of communication, travel, exchange…and new forms of oppression and exploitation. Typical slogans such as “think globally act locally” appear to need reformulation, since today there is no local action that is not equally global, and vice versa. But moreover, the very concept of “local” churches and its reputed sovereignty and autonomy looks totally outdated. While local assemblies are indeed the foundational cells of the church, their organization along regional, ethnic, linguistic or national borders are in crisis, for the ceaseless reordering of boundaries brought by globalization increasingly challenges them. The issue here is not so much the convenience of a specific ecclesial structure or administration, but the appeal and “power” of a family of churches to link its people in a meaningful way across historical and fluctuating boundaries. This may even present a new pattern for secular communities in their realization of belonging to a “common home”. 

 

The local, consequently, may be viewed in its double relationship to the global—which leads us to yet another aspect of catholicity. On the one hand it is the locus for the realization of the global, but on the other hand it is a constitutive knot of the so-called global. We have to learn that we are an integral part of this “field” creating and reordering boundaries, and that we along with others have the possibility of multiple local actions that can be strategically tied for imprinting different directions to global trends. Therefore the characteristics that this globality will take will be largely determined by the nature of the localities that are daily built with a purposeful and sought-out link with other localities around the globe. This casts into a new light the irreplaceable dimension –and sociological advantage-- of a worldwide network of churches that has symbolically declared its communion.[30] For in effect, while the above is a sociological truism, its force is even more evident in the case of the church since it sets as its very ideal and horizon the eschatological vision of a humanity and nature reconciled in Christ.

 

 Finally, if one of the concrete facets of globalization is this intensification in communications, the possibility for a new “multilaterality” in the conversation that defines the identity, purpose, goals, and aims of a social body comes to the fore. If in the past centuries a monocultural grouping was in charge of transmitting across cultural boundaries the “religious truths” of Lutheranism (in/out structure), today these truths emerge from the practice of a universal communication across life-worlds quite complex and distinct from the “original” one.[31] This communication is everyone’s and no one’s in particular[32]—a fact that may show itself in disorderly, imprecise discourses that must find their common threads as they meet and evaluate their differences. Therefore the catholic dimension of Lutheranism, far from being the imagined expansion of northern-European religiosity, becomes a field of permanent interpretation and negotiations between all of those who are committed in interpreting their religious experience in terms of the grammar pointed out by the Lutheran tradition. Yet the lexicon will be, no doubt, quite diverse, as for the first time the issue of identity is set in the midst of the question of plurality…and the plurality of interpretations.

 

It is at this point that I believe that catholicity, as the external basis of communio, is the best assurance against hegemonic interpretations disguised under the cloak of universality. One can juggle with concepts and ideas, but it is difficult –not to say unethical—to do this with the bodies and faces that express these perspectives and concepts.[33] A catholic practice means the concrete embodiment of plurality, for it bridges the apparent incommensurability of local identities with the universal plot of the gospel. Catholicity, in other words, is a commitment to live a religious identity that is never enclosed by our pluralistic belongings; in fact the catholic nota is the event whereby our communities seek to communicate and tie its destiny to those beyond the immediate borders. Therefore it is more appropriate to speak of a catholic process to which we are committed rather than a catholic essence that is somehow grasped from beyond: nowhere but in the intended openness to one another is the catholic dimension of the gospel expressed. In this vein, in order to assume the full practice of this catholicity, certain forms of organizational strategies must be in place allowing for the expression of an organic relationship between all those involved.

 

In this vein a communio of churches that is conscious of its catholic commitment will as a result not only develop the concomitant organizational strategy for the expression of this catholicity, but also shape and reshape the concrete meanings flowing from the fact of belonging to a system of diversities organically related through its symbols as well as organizations. This will involve a new Lutheran “ecology of mind”, that is, a different psychic integration of members able to expand the notion of identity to the level of mutual care and concern (cfr. Mwakyolile). It entails what Miroslav Volf has termed a “catholic personality,”[34] the breeching of localities and boundaries as we envision who we are. All this calls for communities open and bound to express their catholic nota through an unceasing process of convergence. Churches that are either poorly linked to this system are simply destined to a slow agony and poor integration--even within their own local societies. [35]

      

In brief, our Lutheran churches seem eager to explore the growing sense of catholicity that comes with our declaration of being a communion of churches. There is, in some sectors, a demand for implementing the organizational means for a truly decentralized yet transversally linked community of churches. Symbols need embodiment, as sacraments need concrete elements. Our partial manifestation of the universality of the Christian church needs not only a visible expression and manifestation, but also a growing sense of mutual belonging and commitment.  Catholicity is the name when unrelated fragments have the chance to become “others” for us, to be open for us. And openness, of course, is an invitation for change. In sum, catholicity is indeed a vocation, a vocation that realizes the universal aspiration of our fragmentary niches.