The discussion between Professors Lindbeck, Burrell, and Hauerwas is going to take place on January 18-19th in Kansas City, Missouri at Nazarene Theological Seminary. NTS has willingly, even enthusiastically, sponsored the project -- and I owe a great deal of thanks to President Ron Benefiel and Professor Andy Johnson. Last week I received confirmation that Monsignor Lorenzo Albacete, who has oversight responsibilities in the United States of the new religious movement, Communion and Liberation, will conduct the interviews. I honestly think that Wesley's Methodist movement has deep structural parallels to Communion and Liberation as a movement to renew the church catholic from within by emphasizing holiness through a return to the sources of the Christian life. We all have much to learn as the Spirit returns us to the central mystery of our faith: Christ has died, Christ is risen, and Christ will come again.

It is that phrase from the Eucharistic prayer that we confess together that takes me to an amazing book by George Lindbeck, The Future of Roman Catholic Theology. Lindbeck is more famous for his The Nature of Doctrine, yet this later book cannot be understood well, so it seems to me, without reading the earlier one. Lindbeck wrote The Future of Roman Catholic Theology as a series of lectures in 1966 following the conclusion of Vatican II; it was published in book form late in 1970 or early 1971. Lindbeck accurately predicted in this work the dynamics that would characterize Roman Catholic thought -- both what Vatican II rejected and the area of coming controversy -- in the next 40 years. Much is at stake in the witness of the church catholic that might be clarified by Lindbeck's analysis. Much is at stake more locally as well, as these currents have embedded themselves in positions and relationships that have deep bearing on the future of local renewal movements and congregations within the church catholic.

As Lindbeck reflected upon the Vatican II documents, he rightly noted that "In themselves, they [the Vatican II documents] are often ambiguous, open to both rigidly ‘conservative’ and radically ‘progressive’ exegesis. The decision on the proper way to read them depends on how one evaluates their general tenor, on how one views their place and probable influence on the vast changes in theological thinking now taking place in the Roman Catholic Church as well as in other churches" (pp. 2-3). He correctly noted "because the Council is part of a dynamic, ongoing process, it is the new theological emphases which are likely to prove most significant as a basis and guide for further developments" (p. 4). Lindbeck could not have predicted at this point that an Augustinian would be elected as bishop of Rome (and the Archbishop of Canterbury), but he detected the move towards an Augustinian vision to chasten the conservative neo-Thomism that had characterized the Vatican curia in its separation of grace from nature; the secular from the sacred.

Lindbeck argues that what characterized Vatican II was a new vision of the world. "We could label it ‘realistic futuristic eschatology'. The kingdom of God on earth, according to this view, is not actualized exclusively and completely in Christ’s first coming or in the event of faith; rather, its full manifestation is really and temporally future. Further, the kingdom is conceived of as the transformation of the real world. It is not simply ‘beyond,’ as in customary ways of imagining heaven; nor is the realm of space, time, and history in which we live pictured as moving towards total destruction at the end of time, but rather it is in the process of being prepared to become the kingdom of our God" (pp. 9-10).

In such an understanding -- itself deeply anchored in the very form of the Christian Scriptures and in the witness of the early church -- the church becomes "the pilgrim people of God" or, to use a different language, "resident aliens." Vatican II relinquishes the idea that it is the church's job to control the world, to be the chaplain for interests already present in the world. "Because it [the church] is a pilgrim people journeying from one epoch to another and from one culture to another, it is seen as deeply involved and affected by the vicissitudes of history, not as skimming lightly over the waves of change. This image of the pilgrim people fits in with our awareness that the church is an historically and sociologically concrete community subject in one dimension of its being to the same laws of change as any other society. This is the ecclesiological foundation for that call to constant aggiornamento, to constant ‘updating,’ which is a major theme of all the Council documents" (p. 34).

The church, and individuals and congregations within the church catholic, have "not yet arrived at the end of its pilgrimage; it is not yet made perfect. All this is implicit in the image of the messianic people when seen in an eschatological perspective, and this provides the basis for the reiterated insistence on the need for renewal. At one point, this even leads the Council to declare that the church is in constant need of purification and is semper reformanda (E 6). In doing this the Council appropriated themes which Protestants have thought were their private property" (pp. 34-5).

Vatican II adopted the tension we find in Paul who confesses simultaneously that "not that I have achieved this or been made perfect" as he asks that "all who are perfect" join him in the task ahead (Philippian 3:12-15). It is radically different from salvation as commonly supposed as "going to heaven." It does not undercut eternal life, but places it in a different conceptual framework. Thus, "salvation is conceived not individualistically but rather in terms of the redemption of mankind as a whole and indeed of the cosmos. In order to bring about such a stupendous result, God must be guiding all the processes of history towards the goal, not simply working redemptively in and through the church" (p. 35). God is rightly seen as the One who can use even the Jewish rejection of their own Messiah for the salvation of the Gentiles, or can turn the tragedy of the crucifixion of Jesus into salvation for the world.

To grasp fully the implications of this view of the world, the church, and the kingdom, Lindbeck tells us what such a perspective rejects. He calls this the "classical view" of salvation and the church. "In the classical framework the church may be deeply concerned with the secular order, but in a way which is likely to be fundamentally conservative or reactionary. It is chiefly interested in promoting a moral, social, and political environment which favors what is thought of as the proper business of the church, viz., the gaining of a large membership or many converts so that as many individuals as possible may have access to the means of salvation contained within the church" (p. 39). Grace stands outside the order of nature except as it is available to the life of individuals through the programs of the church.

Ironically, it seems to me, Protestant evangelicalism most deeply embodies this pre-Vatican II Roman Catholic perspective today. The "classical framework" is the hallmark of revivalism, in which the church provides "religious services" for "personal decisions for personal salvation", completely divorced from the material world at large. It is also found in the church growth movement in which the church adopts the secular trappings of the society in order to lure persons into the church so that they might, likewise, experience programs and services in which grace comes crashing into the natural order from the outside through a personal faith that grants eternal life. The effective church gains "a large membership or many converts so that as many individuals as possible may have access to the means of salvation contained within the church" (Lindbeck, p. 39). Within variations of what Lindbeck calls the classical framework, Church leadership must decide upon the selected demographic niche or geographical region, such as a neighborhood, for its secular service. The church is seen as a service provider to meet various needs of particular groups so that some within the particular sociological group might "get saved" -- receive an integrating experience of God from outside the natural order to help one's personal struggles in this world and eternal life in the age to come -- even as the church works in the secular world to bring in the kingdom even for those who do not come to believe in Jesus Christ. This can take the form of a conservative or progressive political agenda adopted by the church.

As a reaction against the church's conservative embracing of the contemporary social order and an externalist view of grace as "outside creation smashing into it in individual lives," recent academic theology and "alternative" church life in the evangelical and Methodist-holiness movement has adopted a different agenda, a progressive social agenda that sees the necessity of working to bring the kingdom of God to pass now. There is much positive here. Yet I have a deep concern. As within post-Vatican II Catholicism, important differentiations between the church espousing a progressive social, intellectual agenda versus an authentic return to the sources tends to get lost.

Lindbeck fired a warning flare already in his book for Roman Catholics. He warned against an enthusiastic embracement of the secular, progressive order as the church rejected its modern alliance with the conservative, reactionary order. "Tactical considerations made it difficult for the Council to warn against this kind of enthusiasm. The majority was fighting an almost Manichaean version of the classical outlook for which nothing new and nothing outside the church are good. . . . . This made it difficult for the Council to warn against excessive optimism regarding Christian social action, or to be critical and balanced in its affirmation of the values of the new, the secular, and the non-Christian. To do so would have seemed a concession to the reactionary pessimists" (p. 42-3). Instead, the Council taught that "Christians should throw their energies into the building of the earthly city, and therefore also into their ordinary callings, confident that they can serve God in their daily work just as genuinely as in church on Sundays" (p. 40).

It is a similar enthusiasm that also inspires minorities within evangelicalism to join up with Jim Wallis' program with Sojourners or Michael Lerner's "The Left Hand of God" against the alliance of the majority evangelical church with its legitimation of conservative social, political, and economic forces. Yet such a move itself only represents a reaction against a false Christian position that merely duplicates its problems on the "other side of the fence".

Rejection of the "conservative" position was prevelant in Nazarene and evangelical circles in the ''70s, '80s and '90s. Such thinkers and leaders sought to bring the church out of its cultural captivity to the American right and its liturgical expression in contemporary revivalism or church growth liturgies. These taught that the kingdom of God is built, expanded, or increased through the active work of congregations and its members in their daily tasks, especially in the social service sector of the society. As time has passed, among some, the position itself has more radically moved among some from its earlier hope to re-form the church to adopting an alternative congregational life within the church. If the contemporary church is "individualistic", it will be "communal"; if the contemporary church is "colonial" in its embracing of the American missionary movement; it will be "anti-colonial;" if the conservative church supports "capitalism"; it will be "anti-capitalist;" if the contemporary church is "accomodationalist to the governing structures of society," it will be "anti-accomodationalist." If the conservative church seeks to focus on Christian distinctiveness while embracing a conservative political program, the incarnationalist will seek coalitions with those closer to the progressively present kingdom of God than the conservative, reactionary church that it seeks to leave behind.

Yet this move has gone under the radar, except in certain calls for a "social holiness." A compromise was broached between progressive elements with the conservative church in the United States. The contemporary liberal nation-state, in the right hands, it is held, does not necessarily provide a problem. The state can be a real possibility to help bring in the kingdom if it adopts a progressive socialism that will incorporate the life of religiously motivated persons. Progressive forces and "compassionate conservatives" can come together in a social program for congregations to work to bring in the kingdom. Democratic government, federal, state, and local, can be an ally in such a position if a congregation will form 5013c "compassionate ministry" not-for-profits that can directly receive government funding for Christian-like activity tangent to the life of the congregation. The congregation can pay for its particularly "religious" activities; the "social witness" of the church can be funded in collaboration with government or NGOs to allow greater effectiveness in witnessing to the kingdom by 'kingdom activities' or 'practices.' A tenuous coaltion formed between two sides of the same coin that obscured a more fundamental difference between the alternative political agendas that both are seen to witness to the kingdom.

Lindbeck called for caution already in 1966. He recognized a distinction between the "progressives" within Vatican II from the mainstream of the Council, a progressive element that made their presence felt alongside the "realistic future escatology". Lindbeck wrote, "There is also fragmentarily present another tendency which may be termed ‘incarnationalist.’ According to this, the kingdom of God and the body of Christ grow progressively through history. The church will advance until it unifies all humanity and embraces all genuine values of other religions and of secular developments in the fullness of its catholicity. A major way in which this is accomplished is precisely through the participation of Christians in all kinds of secular activities. Thereby they sanctify the world and saturate it with Christian values" (p. 41).

Lindbeck recognized the power and truthfulness within the "incarnationalist" position: "The main reason for the appeal of incarnationalism, however, is that, oddly enough, its major premise is traditional. It agrees with the classical outlook in holding that the church should engage in secular diakonia because this constitutes a kind of pre-evangelization which contributes to the Christianization of the world and the ultimate triumph of the church."

Yet he also important notices its difference from those who seek the way forward for the church in a return to its sources, to its unsubstitutable, particular Christological center: "The minor premise and the conclusion, however, are very different. Instead of limiting pre-evangelization to what directly and visibly helps the growth of the church, the incarnationalist thinks of human advances of all kinds of serving this end. He thereby participates fully in the building of the earthly city, confident that this will contribute in the end to the spread of Christianity. Thus a classical first premise combined with a highly optimistic second premise provides support for greater emphasis on the secular mission of the church. In a way reminiscent of the classical Catholic pattern of grace presupposing and perfecting nature, the incarnationalist understands the Christianization of the world as presupposing and perfecting secular progress and development" (pp. 44-5).

The subtle but profound distinctions between the "incarnationalist" and "realistic futuristic eschatological" positions have taken time to differentiate, whenever and wherever they have arisen. They look very common in relationship to the "classical positions" that they reject. It has taken me years of hard work, thought, mistakes, prayer, reflection, reading, observation, and conversation to articulate the differences that I sensed and intuited earlier. The profound missional difference that characterizes many contemporary disputes within the larger life of the church, particularly from those who seek the renewal of the church from its conservative captivity, can be found at this level -- and differentiation is not an easy task. It took years to differentiate between the postive versus distorting emphases of liberation theology within Roman Catholicism; the history of Communion and Liberation experienced fragmentation within the movement in its earlier history between "progressive incarnationalist" and "return to the sources" sides; we can find the same difference between Councilium and Communio Catholic theologians, between the "National Catholic Review" and the "traditional Catholic review" websites; it is the difference between"Hauerwasian" and "Sojourners" evangelicals; it is found between "socially active relational Wesleyans" and Wesleyans who find their tradition taking them back into the history of the church catholic. Such a difference has been a constant source of tension within the congregation at Mid-City at various phases for many years; these tensions that can bubble up in persons leaving the congregation with a perceived failure in its mission to be suitably "incarnational".

Such an "incarnationalist" position is partically represented in the mission statement of Mid-City where we speak of co-operation with other believers to "expand the kingdom of God." It is a deeply secularist vision, as Vattimo would say, of history as "progress and its overcoming." The incarnationalist position is a pro-poor, anti-colonial, anti-capitalist, communitarian, pro-government regulatory of private enterprise whose project moves to the very center of the church's program of challenging the social systems around them ("the principalities and powers") in building now the kingdom of God through alignment with all well-intentioned persons who might join us in the task. The ethical and the social nature of the kingdom of God render the confessional and particular nature of Christian convictions as a secondary importance.

The difference, however, is not inconsequential, nor trivial, nor tied necessarily to personalities; it has deep implications to sustain the long term witness of the church. Lindbeck saw the real difference between the progressive, incarnationalist vision with the realistic futuristic eschatological vision. He wrote, "While the church’s secular mission is at least as important from an eschatological perspective as from an incarnationalist perspective, it does not, for the eschatologist, depend on this kind of incarnational optimism. The present age is one of ‘preparation for’ not ‘growth’ or ‘progress’ towards the kingdom. There is no guarantee that mankind is becoming better or that the world will be Christianized. All developments are ambiguous and may be used for either good or evil. Such an outlook is more open to the future than an incarnational one. It is less subject to crushing disappointments than are optimistic or utopian views regarding the course of history. No matter what happens, and even if the church’s secular mission is not ‘successful,’ the church must struggle for love and justice and serve the needs of men because only in this way can it be an authentic anticipation and witness to the final manifestation of God’s reign and rule" (p. 44).

By turning to the center, to the kingdom of God as it has already been revealed in Jesus rather than in a social engineering of the present for the future, God protects the church from being co-opted by other political forces in this time between the times. God instead pushes us to holiness, to confess the limitations of our own historical perspectives; to deliver us from the unintended consequences of our trying to do good by taking control, and instead, to focus us on Jesus Christ to engage in direct works of mercy for our own sanctification.

We must ask the Spirit to sanctify us to be holy and without blame in order to receive the kingdom; we do not actively bring in the kingdom through human activity. Ironically, and this is very important, we must embrace a "realistic futuristic eschatology" rather than an "incarnationalist" presence in order to sustain us in the truth of the Gospel that salvation [the kingdom] comes by grace through faith, not by works, lest anyone boast. It is at this point that we can say that the reformation is over; in Vatican II the Roman Catholic Church has re-formed at the crucial point. Luther -- and Wesley -- have won. The residual forces of a incarnationalist understanding that brings in the kingdom by works, as in pre-Vatican II Roman common understanding, cannot be taken over by well-meaning evangelicals as they move beyond the limitations of their earlier understandings of the church. To protect ourselves and because Christ prayed that we must be one as the Son and the Father are One, we must allow the Spirit to re-form us as we adopt that we are merely the pilgrim people of God to witness to the fullness of what has happened in Jesus Christ, crucified and raised, and in the new age that is yet to come in the return of Jesus Christ.

This is the mystery of our faith: Christ has died; Christ has risen, and Christ will come again.