You follow Paul, I follow Apollos

prince of peace, jesus, king, lord, ruler

For perhaps a multitude of reasons, it seems like society has been systematically devolving into a web of tribal allegiances.  People try with varying degrees of success to squeeze their fellow citizens into one of a handful of boxes, and once it’s clear that someone is in an opposing clan, we cut to the firefight. Whether it’s political, social, or spiritual, we have all grown quite comfortable with a polarized system to help us know friend from foe; we know our own by our stripes, and, more importantly, we know the others by their spots.

This isn’t necessarily a bad concept in itself. It would seem to make sense that a community with a shared worldview and common values would be able to survive and indeed thrive in the world.  It might even be necessary for a society to draw firm lines between who is and who isn’t a part of their society.

The Church also has basic guidelines to help us gauge legitimate membership, both in ourselves and others.  These simple guidelines help keep us moving along the road to sanctity, but even within those boundaries we have seen time and again the construction of more filters for ‘clarity’ within the confines of the Church. This could take many forms- it could be a pious devotion (or the avoidance of it), or the adherence to the teaching of a given theologian.

This is no novel feat – in his first letter to the Corinthians, St. Paul begs the church there to strive for unity because he had been told of their scandalous divisions.

I appeal to you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree and that there be no dissensions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and the same judgment (1 Corinthians 1:10).

In a move which sounds poignantly on-trend, the Corinthians were picking figureheads as a litmus test.  Some followed Paul, others Apollos, others Peter, and others still (in a classic move of one-up-man-ship) followed Christ.  St. Paul saw this division as the heartbreaking reality that it was, and through his pastoral zeal for unity and charity, he proceeded to take the Church in Corinth to task over their divisiveness.

If this doesn’t sound uncomfortably personal or timely, you don’t spend much time on the Catholic corner of the internet.  Everyone looks for a hero in a lay scholar, social media personality, priest, or bishop, and everyone seems sure that their hero possesses the totality of Catholic faith in perfect expression.  When reason would indicate that probabilities are against them on this point, many panic and lash out, defending their patch of hallowed ground against all odds. It’s become a sort of Alamo-inspired vision of the spiritual life, which can have a poetic sort of beauty to it, but it’s at best incomplete.

Of course, Christians have always clung to schools of spirituality, or gone out into the wilderness to find holy men and women to learn from and emulate.  There is a fine balance needed to guard against the sort of personality cult which easily leads down a frontage road slowly but surely away from heaven. If I put all my trust in Dr. Joe Brilliant and his brand of Catholicism, I am not embracing the faith but a human iteration of it, however noble it might be.

Our day is no less broken or fearful than days past, and the speed at which news and information assault our senses would indeed make our fathers stagger.  However, given the pressure of the days in which we live, there is a need to return to the fullness and simplicity of faith which embraces the breadth of Christian history with receptive docility.  To receive from our forbears the wisdom to grapple with the glittering ‘ism’s of our day is to proclaim with humility that we of ourselves can not make Christ’s kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven, any more than they could.

Christianity is not a religion of isolated souls, despite how much emphasis is rightly given to the incredulous gift of personhood.  Catholic theology embraces this in its consistent message of communion- the communion of saints, the royal communion in what we call the ‘priesthood of all believers,’ the emphasis on the corporate effects of sin, and most clearly of all the Eucharistic feast in the Mass.  Each of these is a testimony to the fact that man is not meant to be alone, and that to be human is to be in a relationship – with God, with society, and with the world.  Any faith which intends to guide and nurture people must be judged harshly on how effectively it deals with this important part of the human experience.

It is this communal focus of Catholicism which provides a force for such timeless, transcendent beauty, but which also means that it is especially sensitive to the abuses of powerful personalities.  Looking back on the painful divisions in the Church across time, it is so common that a person of  ‘great’ personality or charisma has taken others down a road which has broken off from the path of the Church Christ began.

Apostate priests, bishops, emperors or antipopes played their part in the attempt to derail and break the unity of Christ’s body, and eventually, even monks and laymen opened the door to some of the greatest storms of confusion and unrest surrounding the Reformation period.

As is usually the case, each social and theological abuse (or un-truth) is a manipulation or disordering of a good and valid thing.  At the first, Adam was faced with the temptation of twisting God’s words, and Christ alone showed himself perfect in the revisiting of that battle.  Today, we are often tasked with the painful choice of who to trust. Leaders of all positions in the church and society have let us down; only the most naive can pretend to blindly trust in the words of men.

Just as it was impossible for the Corinthians to live the life of Faith while pitting apostle against apostle, it is impossible for us to continue the work of the Great Commission by sniping bitter ‘friendly fire’ shots at one another.  Jesus promised us that all would know we were His disciples by our mutual love, not by our radical commitment to separate the sheep from the goats.

Surely, spiritual adults need not be reminded that committing to love our brothers and sisters never implies neglecting the fraternal love which guides us away from sin and into fuller virtue. Our call is not comfort but greatness as Pope Benedict XVI reflected, and that magnanimous call is the bold and harried road along the rocky heights rather than the soft valley floor. The Christian life is an invitation to unite ourselves to the Life of Christ, and regardless of our vocation, there is no higher or more exciting call.

Our world, and sadly indeed much of the Church, has entered a haze of confusion.  There is no wonder why the charismatic or bold cry out and many rally to them in the darkness of our days. There are, however, helps given to us to navigate these murky waters, but we must lean into the full teaching of the Church to see clearly. The Truth has never changed and may not be molded to suit the times, but by God’s grace we may be molded by the Truth to confront the times head-on.

In discerning who in the sea of voices speaks the truth, there are simple questions to ask: do they contradict the teachings confirmed by the Church or deny her magisterial authority? Do they cast doubt on the promises of Christ that gates of hell shall not prevail against the Church planted on the rock of St. Peter His servant? Hold up the firebrand and prelate alike to the mirror of Scripture and Holy Tradition and see how well they line up to the pattern of Christ’s likeness.

St. Thomas More, a man confronted with a dizzying display of apostasy, rose above the times and claimed the martyr’s crown through his humility and simplicity of heart.  Though he lost his position, prestige, and indeed his life because he was committed to the Truth and to the service of the Church, he died truly reflecting that cruciform pattern of our Lord’s passion. To the last, he was an indefatigable defender of the faith and friend of Christ. To quote him, “The times are never so bad but that a good man can live in them.”

May this truth sink deep into the soil of our hearts, and may the joy of a closer union with Christ be ours as we move forward together in hope.

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1 thought on “You follow Paul, I follow Apollos”

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