Reformed Catholicity: Challenge, Not Consumerism

Approximately fifteen years ago, I attended a conference on historic Christian worship, hosted by a large church with a primarily academic audience of pastors and church leaders. The aim was to retrieve historic worship practices for the contemporary church. While I encountered many thoughtful presentations, one moment stands out. During lunch, a passionate congregant remarked that members of the church traveled up to two hours weekly to participate in a liturgy they considered “more biblical” and “more historic” than what was available in their local Bible Belt communities. When I inquired whether other churches in the same denomination existed along their commute, I was told that while many did, none upheld these preferred historic practices. The idea that traveling over 100 miles to church might itself be a historical anomaly seemed unnoticed, as did the potential challenges this posed for other essential Christian practices.

Contemplating this conversation and the trends of theological retrieval, I received the invitation to reflect upon Michael Allen and Scott Swain’s Reformed Catholicity with great interest. The introduction to that book identifies the movements and ideas that coincided with my own theological formation. I appreciate the book’s careful account of the school of Christ, emphasizing the role of the Holy Spirit in shaping readers of scripture within the church. I resonate with its nuanced defense of sola Scriptura against both radical Protestant distortions and recent Roman Catholic apologetic misrepresentations. I also value its measured construction of the regula fidei and its emphasis on scripture in dogmatic work. Todd Billings’s afterword, with its critique of contemporary consumerism in theology, remains a timely and challenging reflection. Although the example of a particular congregation in the afterword has not aged well, Billings’s critique of “correlationism” in theological retrieval remains an important caution.

That admonition notwithstanding, there are encouraging signs of theological renewal that avoid the trap of consumerism. Two notable trends in English-speaking theological circles are worth highlighting. First, the return to patristic sources and modes of scriptural interpretation has led to renewed interest in theology proper. Scholars are revisiting the essence, attributes, and Trinitarian nature of God, drawing on traditional interpretive practices that engage deeply with scripture. Second, recent translations of medieval and early modern texts, previously available only in Latin, have revitalized interest in the thought of figures beyond Augustine, Aquinas, and Calvin. These figures are being engaged not only as systematic theologians but as exegetes who wrestled with scripture’s meaning in their own historical contexts. Theologically, these trends reflect a broader effort to reclaim the richness of the Christian tradition, integrating voices from across time, including both the Reformers and their predecessors.

While these developments are promising, it is crucial to recognize that the healthy pursuit of catholicity can still be sidetracked by the contemporary idolatry of consumption. Far too often, modern theological retrieval proceeds as if the past exists primarily to affirm pre-existing desires, rather than to challenge and enrich contemporary assumptions. It is unavoidable that present concerns shape historical inquiry, but the proper use of historical sources requires careful attention to their contexts.

A clear example of this challenge is found in recent treatments that juxtapose the ideas of Calvin and Aquinas without addressing the historical debates that led to their respective positions. Too often, modern theologians make the mistake of interpreting these figures as if they were writing in a vacuum, without considering the historical and theological contexts in which their ideas were formed or the process of their reception. Without attention to these contexts, such studies risk distorting the very ideas they seek to explore.

Similarly, historical retrieval often fails to engage with the complexity of historical categories and periodizations. Terms like “evangelicalism” or “the Enlightenment” frequently are employed with little regard for their contested nature or the ongoing debates surrounding their meaning. Similarly, when theologians invoke the “Enlightenment,” they often assume a uniformity of thought and a historical clarity that no serious historian would (ought to?) claim. The same issue arises with the category of “secularization.” While works like Charles Taylor’s A Secular Age have made significant interventions in this field, many still take secularization as a given, ignoring the complex and contested nature of this concept.

These examples of “presentism”—reading the past through the lens of contemporary concerns—undermine the integrity of theological retrieval and too frequently betray a consumeristic impulse. Though it is natural for present-day questions to inform historical inquiry, the risk is that the past becomes a mere tool to confirm or satiate modern assumptions. As we engage with the Christian tradition, we must remain open to the possibility that the figures and movements of the past may challenge and reshape our theological priorities, rather than merely serving as a backdrop for our own agendas.

This concern leads me to reflect on current conversations regarding “Reformed Catholicity.” While I am cautiously hopeful about the future of this dialogue, I wonder if we are sufficiently attentive to the challenges of engaging the past on its own terms. If we are to be truly catholic in our theological outlook, we must listen more attentively to the voices of the past, including figures who may have been overlooked or marginalized in the traditional canon of Reformation theology.

One question we might consider is whether our theological seminaries are sufficiently attentive to the historical richness of the tradition. Are they offering a deep enough engagement with the past, relative to the emphasis placed on contemporary trends in other academic disciplines? And if we are to be genuinely catholic, do we need to broaden the range of voices to which we listen? It is not enough to simply return to the usual figures, such as Augustine, Aquinas, and the Reformers. While these figures remain foundational, there are other important voices in the history of Christian thought and practice that deserve more attention.

For example, figures like Francis Grimké, a 19th-century African American pastor-theologian, offer valuable insights that are often neglected in theological circles today. Grimké’s contributions are not merely of historical interest but carry theological weight that can enrich our understanding of the Christian tradition. His theological insights, shaped by the unique experiences of African American Christians, provide a corrective to the often narrow perspectives that dominate theological discourse. I am not advocating for Grimké’s inclusion merely on the basis of cultural or political concerns but because his thought represents a neglected dimension of the Christian tradition that warrants more serious consideration.

I am grateful to Michael Allen and Scott Swain for their efforts to encourage a more robust engagement with the Reformed tradition’s catholic roots. Their work helps to foster a theology that listens not only to the Reformers but also to the broader Christian tradition. As we continue to retrieve and engage with the theological past, let us remember that true catholicity requires us to move beyond our own assumptions, allowing the voices of past thinkers to shape and challenge our theological reflection. The road ahead is one of both retrieval and renewal, and I look forward to the fruit of this ongoing labor, inspired by the marks of catholicity and holiness in the church operating hand in hand.