RIP: Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI

Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI has a complicated legacy for me. I remember vividly being in the political science building in college spending time with friends when the white smoke appeared. As they came out to announce “Josephum Sanctae Romanae Ecclesiae Cardinalem Ratzinger” one of the other students yelled “the Hitler Youth?!” I knew then that it was going to be a rocky experience.

I admire the former Pope in many ways. He was a brilliant intellectual who was also a very gifted writer. He used his gifts to write about church history, theology, and other topics to help people better understand their faith. His “Introduction to Christianity” helped present the faith to the modern word in a new way.

I also agreed with his approach to liturgy, and I was personally enriched by “The Spirit of the Liturgy.” I am of the opinion that the liturgical changes after the Second Vatican Council were too radical, while also acknowledging that a dramatic change was needed to make the liturgy more approachable to a modern world. Benedict XVI attempted to find a middle ground—to promote the sacred in the Novus Ordo while nurturing the Tridentine Mass. One can certainly appreciate the “Reform of the Reform” while also being grateful for more access to the Tridentine Mass. Unfortunately, as the old joke goes, “it is easier to argue with a terrorist than a liturgist” and problems continued with liturgical exclusivity and obedience.

However, his legacy was not without challenges. While he certainly went farther than John Paul II in handling abuse cases, there were places where that fell short. There was also the financial scandal that ultimately overshadowed the end of his papacy. He could be a polarizing figure—beloved by traditionalists and distrusted by progressives, although (as we see with Pope Francis) that is the fate (albeit switched) of every Pope to some degree.

I did not expect him to make sweeping changes, just as I did not expect this of Pope Francis. While infallible, the Popes have very little ability to radically change dogma in Catholicism. Sure, it can be said that infallibility was a great change but, to be frank, most people don’t particularly care about it. They ignore it to a large degree since it is used so infrequently. Popes can, like Francis, make statements here and there that encourage people or make them think change will be coming, but it rarely results. So the rank and file Catholics trudge on—even those that often feel excluded (the LGBT, divorced and remarried, those taking birth control, etc.)—receiving pastoral care from their local clergy (either outright support or a wink and a nod) while the Church at large remains unchanged. They stay because that is enough or they have found community, a desire of all of us.

For others, like many Independent Catholics, this informal support is not enough “for life is short and nothing is given to man” as Joan Baez says. Or they are fed up with multiple scandals and missteps. Or they have a profound theological disagreement. So, we look to Rome and the Papacy as a guide but forge out on our own, sometimes in the dark and the cold, but true to ourselves and our convictions despite the challenges. It can be a lonely, frustrating path, but nothing worth it really is easy we remind ourselves.

In some way, I respect Benedict XVI for doing the same, albeit the opposite. He stuck to his convictions, leading the Church as he felt called, trying to increase it in holiness and adherence to dogma. He saw rapid change at the Council and, I’m sure, it scared him. I believe he acted according to his conscience. I wish it did not come at the expense of gay seminarians and others who sincerely sought out a way to serve in the Church or were called to active membership but denied even though celibate.

In the end, every one of us has a complicated legacy. Perhaps it is more apparent for those who lead, because they are perceived as changing too much or not enough. Benedict XVI was no different. I believe he was a man of prayer, and I will pray for him. Because even when we disagree with someone, we pray for them. And I hope that he will pray for me.

Photo: M.Mazur/www.thepapalvisit.org.uk

Ode to Thomas Cahill

I opened Wikipedia this morning and let out an audible gasp when I saw that Thomas Cahill was among the obituaries featured. Cahill was a brilliant writer, with knowledge of Latin, ancient Greek, French, German, and Italian. He initially studied to become a priest with the Jesuits, but ultimately married his wife Susan and oversaw the religious publications at Doubleday. 

With his degrees in classical literature and medieval philosophy, philosophy, and fine arts, he became a professor at Queen's College and Seton Hall. His interest in these areas led to his first big publishing break, "How the Irish Saved Civilization" which began his Hinges of History series.

For me, however, it was his book "Desire of the Everlasting Hills: The World Before and After Jesus" that had a profound affect on my religious upbringing. I read the book as a high school student who was interested in pursuing the priesthood, and it radically changed my thought process on the life of Jesus and his message. In it, Cahill challenges us to reflect on the cosmic and human natures of Christ in addition to the divine. By emphasizing the balance of Our Lord's natures, he creates both a compelling and thought-provoking narrative. For me, it was truly formative in helping me to wrestle with challenges and perceptions that I held up to that point.

Mr. Cahill was a scholar of the first degree, mastering the languages he used before publishing his scholarly works about them. I highly recommend reading his works and will certainly pray for his repose. Rest in Peace, Thomas.

The Beauty of Grief

Today, I watched the funeral of Her Late Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. It was a beautiful service befitting a grand lady. Although Anglicanism has always been foreign to me, they do liturgy and music exquisitely. I believe a lot of the English-speaking world could learn from the nobility of the Anglican tradition. Especially with wording like this, from the Eucharistic Prayer for Children: "He came to take away sin, which keeps us from being friends, and hate, which makes us all unhappy." Oh dear.

Anyway, what struck me as important about the funeral is the ability to grieve. The family grieved their matriarch and a nation mourned their sovereign. This was enabled by an atmosphere of grief and solemnity. I believe that this is something that we need to bring back into modern funeral liturgies. It was a grave error, in my estimation, to change the funeral liturgy in the Roman Rite. Grief is no longer the focus with the resurrection being the primary focus of the liturgy. White is now an option and the event can take a celebratory tone.

For me, it is important that there is a chance to grieve. Purple and black remind us that our time on earth is brief and that we need the opportunity to mourn. The prayers in the Extraordinary Form were for the soul of the person, entreating God's mercy and asking forgiveness for the person. We now pray that the person will be immediately admitted into the company of the saints. I read that Cardinal George of Chicago was wary of funeral liturgies that "canonized the deceased." That is something we should also avoid if possible. 

This is, perhaps, to be expected. In modern times we have often changed our definition of metanoia, to a self-help understanding of ourselves that our sins are just individual peccadillos which define us. I'm ok, you're ok has replaced the need for repentance uttered by the Orthodox (but still with great hope): "Image am I of Your unutterable glory, though I bear the scars of my stumblings. Have compassion on me, the work of Your hands, O Sovereign Lord, and cleanse me through Your loving-kindness; and the homeland of my heart's desire bestow on me by making me a citizen of Paradise."

So, this is my plea. Let us bring back solemnity to funerals. It is ok to grieve and it is ok to admit that the deceased is approaching judgment before Almighty God. It is, in my estimation, not only psychologically healthy but part of our venerable tradition.

You Should Become a Bishop

NOT.

When I entered this movement in 2000, I was optimistic and hopeful. I left a radical traditionalist Catholic context to enter into a church which as doctrinally and liturgically traditional with a pastoral outlook. I was eventually ordained in 2007. During my training and after my ordination, I served in a parish and had the benefit of growing it from 10 people to 40-50 people. It was an ideal situation that gave me a lot of joy. A social creature, I have always enjoyed being with people so this was the perfect fit.

I subsequently made a change which led to my joining another group in the same tradition in 2012. At that time, I was publicly asked to accept consecration as a bishop to grow the mission of the church. For me, it seemed at that time it made sense. Being as a bishop would allow me to help others on their journey as well as build up many communities instead of just one local one. It also would give me the autonomy to ensure that I could go where I needed to fit my calling. The independence it offered was appealing because I could guard my heart and control my destiny. So, I chose to begin ministry as a bishop.

I did not anticipate how this would change things in my life. Overnight, my relationships changed. Friends supported me and criticized me. People became both warmer and colder. There was more scrutiny over my actions. It is not just an ontological change--there are real, impactful changes that happen when you are consecrated. Mostly they are because of the projections that other people have about the episcopacy.

After consecration, I cannot say that my life improved a great deal. People are consecrated as bishop for all sorts of reasons. Sometimes it's merited. Sometimes it's for prestige. Sometimes it's the right place at the right time. Sometimes it's independence. Sometimes it's necessity. There is everything in between. For me, it did not bring a lot of comfort but was much more complicated!

I never really cared about the prestige. I have plenty of fulfillment in my life. I have people who love me and I have a solid career with multiple accredited graduate degrees. So, becoming a bishop did not "fill that cup." In fact, it made it more difficult. There are people who join this movement to become a bishop and like to be called by exalted titles or to receive the prestige of the episcopacy. However, the episcopacy in our movement is not an imperial episcopacy with the chancellery, personal secretary, episcopal palace, etc. So, for many people when when you introduce yourself as bishop and are in charge of less than others think you should be in charge of, you look crazy. I tried to downplay the episcopacy because I did not want to look absolutely insane to outsiders. 

I also got thrown more into the politics of everything. Suddenly, I had to look more closely at each situation. I was responsible for other people and more souls, and I had to respond accordingly. I had to tell more people yes for ordination or no. These were difficult, life-changing decisions for people. They have weighed heavily on me. While I do like being informed, I have not particularly enjoyed being thrown into the mix of politics within my own jurisdiction or others. It has caused a lot of hurt and damaged friendships.

But, lest you think that this post is too depressing, I will add that there have been moments of extreme joy. I have had the opportunity to meet some wonderful people and be part of their vocational journey. I have ordained people who I unequivocally knew that God called to ordained ministry. I get to minister alongside people I trust and that I deeply care about. I realized my duty and my obligations and helped people to achieve what they have been called to do. For that, I am forever grateful.

But, do not think that your life will immediately improve once you are consecrated. And do not look to it as the best thing that can happen to you. It is not. This does not mean that I am leaving or ready to resign the episcopacy, but know that it is not the panacea that you might imagine. I offer these words of reflection on 10 years of a bishop. They are just a reflection of the good, the bad, and the ugly. If I had to do it over again, sometimes I don't know that I would. What makes it worth it are the other clergy who I get the deep honor to support and the people they serve. But I also feel why people feel they need to be consecrated, because of the lack of good order or understanding of some bishops in the movement. Obviously, not all. But, noting that, I am so glad that despite the challenges that bishops face, I face it with supportive clergy for whom I care a great deal. The priests and people with whom I minister make all the difference. I hope that my advice gives you something to ponder or at least gives you some pause.

"One of the things you will do as a bishop is disappoint people." - Rowan Williams

Photo: LawrenceOP

RIP: Metropolitan Kallistos (Ware)

“If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants” stated Sir Isaac Newton. One of those giants is Metropolitan Kallistos Ware, and I know that very few people (myself included) will ever see beyond him. Metropolitan Kallistos, born Timothy Ware, began life as an Anglican. In 1958, at the age of 24, he embraced Orthodoxy and traveled to various monasteries around North America and Europe over the period of several years. In 1966 he was ordained a priest and tonsured a monk. In 1982, he was consecrated as Bishop of Diokleia.

I first came to Metropolitan Kallistos, as did many people, through his book entitled "The Orthodox Church." Orthodoxy, to me as an outsider, seemed unreasonably complex and unintelligible. The liturgy, with its many books, baffled me as did the Orthodox understanding of the Canons. Through him, however, I learned to appreciate the context in which Orthodox theology and practice was formed. I also grew to love Orthodoxy and the tradition it represents.

My greatest admiration of Metropolitan Kallistos came, however, through his understanding of the importance of the local community. For him, Orthodoxy was no mere museum piece. It was the dynamic Body of Christ, formed by many people throughout time immemorial who were earnest and sincere. An indication of this is though his presentation from the St. Sergius Institute in 2005: "Neither an Ecumenical Council, nor the Patriarchate of Constantinople or of Moscow, nor any other Mother-Church can create a new local Church. The most that they can do is to recognise such a Church. But the act of creation must be carried out in situ, locally, by the living Eucharistic cells which are called to gradually make up the body of a new local Church" (with thanks to the Orthodox Church of the Gauls). 

Metropolitan Kallistos was also not afraid to step into controversy. An oft-written criticism of him was his willingness to be open to the gay and lesbian community. In The Wheel, Issue 13/14, Spring/Summer 2018, Metropolitan Kallistos said, in part: "This argument, however, places us in difficulty. Persons of heterosexual orientation have the option of getting married, and so in a positive way they can fulfil their erotic desire with the Church’s blessing through the God-given sacrament of holy matrimony. But homosexuals have no such option. In the words of Vasileios Thermos, 'A homosexual subject is called to lead a celibate life without feeling a vocation for it.' Are we right to impose this heavy burden on the homosexual?" See: https://www.wheeljournal.com/13-14-ware.

An image is given of Metropolitan Kallistos as a pastoral man. Through his writings, we know that he was willing to ask difficult questions while still affirming the uniqueness and call of the individual community to set its destiny. Besides Archbishop Lazar, few Orthodox figures are willing to tempt controversy by even asking questions on how modern issues affect answers to questions given centuries ago.

For me personally, my spiritual life has been enriched because of him. It was through his translation of the Philokalia, with other writers, that I learned the Early Fathers more intently and how to deepen my spiritual life. I am sad that I never had the opportunity to meet him, but pray I will after this life. May his memory be eternal!

“We see that it is not the task of Christianity to provide easy answers to every question, but to make us progressively aware of a mystery. God is not so much the object of our knowledge as the cause of our wonder.”- Metropolitan Kallistos

Image: Wikipedia, User Narsil, 2008.

Loss among Independent Catholics

Forgive an uncharacteristically sentimental post, but please indulge me for a moment. When I entered this movement in 2000, I entered full of hope and opportunity. I was young and saw the movement as a way that I could help other people who felt marginalized by the Church. Here was a place where I could minister in the margins and meet like-minded clergy with the same mission and ideals. I thought I would stay on the same path forever, but things in my life changed. I struggled with my bishop and relied on past friendships to make changes which I felt better suited my life at the time. The break with my bishop was painful for both of us, but it was a necessary step. This break would later be healed, but it was difficult at the time.

I came away from this experience cognizant of the pain that it caused the bishop (and me). I am sympathetic to the pain that comes from having to leave an ecclesiastical relationship because it is not best for you at the moment. Fast forward a decade, and I have also seen it first hand from the opposite side. I think that is something that no one prepares you for in this movement--the realization of loss. Traditionally, in the mainstream, you enter a church and continue through seminary. You make friends in seminary that stay with you throughout your life, and you rely on each other. There will be loss--attrition, death, etc. but you still have a cohort of people with whom you are close. It is different in the Independent Movement because we are so small. Every relationship is amplified and means more in a jurisdiction and as a friendship.

I think this is what makes it so much more difficult, and there are different scenarios of loss. The first loss is often the most common--someone leaves us to become a bishop. We are trained that becoming a bishop will solve all of our problems, and bring us supreme happiness. It is exactly the opposite. Yet, time and time again I have seen someone leave their jurisdiction and sever friendships to become a bishop. I have been in that position and I am wiser now. I know it is unhelpful to look back and say "don't make this mistake," but I'm putting it out there. 

Another loss is when someone abandons the priesthood or leaves the movement entirely. I have seen this as well and it is painful. The relationship you had previously changes in many ways. Previously, you shared the same goals but they are different now. They become involved in their new community or abandon the priesthood, and there is a loss of fraternity that is deeply felt. Or, perhaps they leave to join another group. This may be good for everyone in the long run, but there still is a sense of loss even if it is best for all involved. Finally, there is also the loss of common geography. You have a kindred relationship with someone who has to move away for a job, family, etc. Suddenly the clericus that you have formed is now done by Zoom and phone calls. Visits lessen the pain, but there is little replacement for being together and "breaking bread."

I have, to some extent, experienced all of these things. Unfortunately, I have no wise words for making things better. People will come into your life for a season and will leave. They will want to be consecrated to the episcopacy, want to exit the movement, need to move, etc. Each loss is, again, more amplified because of our size. I have seen some people try to mitigate this to some extent. A dear friend of mine has released attachment from ordination. This person ordains people outside their jurisdiction with no expectation of joining, so they are a "free agent" except for mutual support. This can help mitigate loss and liability. Others do not seem to be affected by loss. They get upset or frustrated but there are no long-term effects. 

I'm not saying that everyone has to be in the same group to feel fraternity or togetherness. The ISM is full of friendships which have formed through mutual respect and understanding and not jurisdictional affiliation. What I am saying is that when that mutual commitment has been made, it can often be much more difficult than in mainstream churches when it is severed. But I do feel a duty to warn everyone who enters this movement that loss is something they will experience. It never gets easier, but at least if you know it is something to anticipate.

“Love and sacrifice are closely linked, like the sun and the light. We cannot love without suffering and we cannot suffer without love.” - Saint Gianna Beretta Molla

The Form of Consecration

I was asked my opinion on (and one question always popular in the Independent Catholic (Autocephalous Catholic) world) is on the form of sacramental rites. Ideally, I will do a series on this topic but I am starting with consecration (and to a lesser extent ordination) according to various theological writers. Traditionally, this is matter, form, and intent. For ordination, matter is the laying on of hands on the head. Intent is to do what the church does. 

 

In the Western Church, Pope Leo XII when discussing Anglican Ordinations stated: For to the formula, “Receive the Holy Ghost”, not only were the words “for the office and work of a bishop”, etc. added at a later period, but even these, as we shall presently state, must be understood in a sense different to that which they bear in the Catholic rite. Nor is anything gained by quoting the prayer of the preface, “Almighty God”, since it, in like manner, has been stripped of the words which denote the summum sacerdotium. 1

The issue was that the Ordinal of Edward VI was invalid because the form did not discuss (for bishops) the fullness of the priesthood and, for priests, a sacrificial priesthood. The words “for the office and work of a priest" were not deemed enough to confect the sacrament.

Next, Pope Pius XII weighed in through Sacramentum Ordinis. In this encyclical, Pope Pius XII stated that the words of the preface are absolutely necessary for ordination and consecration primary to the Traditio Instrumentorum as documented by some theologians. The handing over of the instruments (chalice and paten, for example) was considered an essential part of the form by some theologians until this point. 2

Thus, according to Popes Leo XIII and Pius XII one must have the matter of laying on of hands, a form which includes the essential words of the preface and denotes ordaining to offer sacrifice, and the intent to do what the Church does.

 

The specific forms are:

In the Pre-1969 Pontifical:

“Comple in Sacerdote tuo ministerii tui summam, et ornamentis totius glorificationis instructum coelestis unguenti rore santifica.” [“Perfect in Thy priest the fullness of thy ministry and, clothing him in all the ornaments of spiritual glorification, sanctify him with the Heavenly anointing.”] 3

In the Paul VI Pontifical:

“So now pour out upon this chosen one that power which is from you, the governing Spirit whom you gave to your beloved Son, Jesus Christ, the Spirit given by him to the holy apostles, who founded the Church in every place to be your temple for the unceasing glory and praise of your name.”

The Orthodox do not have the same scholastic theology as the West and the defined matter, form, and intent discussions. However, generally the laying on of hands with the "prayer of the episcopacy" is considered the form among some Westerners: 4

O Master, Lord our God, who through thine all-laudable Apostle Paul hast established for us an ordinance of degrees and ranks, unto the service and divine celebration of thine august and all-spotless Mysteries upon thy holy Altar ; first, Apostles, secondly, Prophets, thirdly, teachers : Do thou, the same Lord of all, who also hast graciously enabled this chosen person to come under the yoke of the Gospel and the dignity of a Bishop through the laying-on of hands of us, his fellow Bishops here present, strengthen him by the inspiration and power and grace of thy Holy Spirit, as thou didst strengthen thy holy Apostles and Prophets ; as thou didst anoint Kings ; as thou hast consecrated Bishops : And make his Bishopric to be blameless ; and adorning him with all dignity, present thou him holy, that he may be worthy to ask those things which are for the salvation of the people, and that thou mayest give ear unto him. For blessed is thy Name, and glorified thy Kingdom, of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, now, and ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen. 

 

The notable scholar Dom Gregory Dix, an Anglican, states that "form should be taken as the order which was conferred... the matter is the laying on of hands with prayer to the Holy Spirit." 4 As evidence, he points to the ordination prayer of Saint Hippolytus as well as the rite of St. Sarapion. Dix states that "nowhere is there mention of sacrifice [in early sacramentaries] as the essential 'grace and power' of the sacrament." 4 Dix further states that among Easterners the laying on of hands with the prayer to the Holy Spirit is the matter and form, which are not described as such.

So, what does all of this mean? For me, it is:

1. The "matter" of hands touching the head must always be present.

2. Dix has documented exhaustively (as have other RC authors when speaking of the new rite of consecration) that the form has varied throughout the centuries and by church. However, it is in the Independent Catholics' best interest to use an accepted form to ensure proper transmission of the sacrament. If the Western Rite is used, I personally follow the Pius XII form.

3. The intent is always to do what the Church does.

 

------------

1. Apostolicae Curae, 1896

2. A Manual of the History of Dogmas, Otten, 1918

3. Sacramentum Ordinis, 1947

4. The Question of Anglican Orders, Dix, 1956.

The Golden Calf: Mainstream Recognition

“To go to Rome is little profit, endless pain;
the master that you seek in Rome you find at home or seek in vain.”

This epigram by Sedulius has been one of my favorites for years. Sedulius speaks about a pilgrimage to Rome and how it is unnecessary, but it has taken on a larger context for those in the Independent Movement. So many of us want so desperately to be validated. Like Pinocchio, we are desperate to be a “real boy.” We seek a validation from Rome, Utrecht, or any other historic see which will never come. Thus, it is essential that we find it from the people to whom we minister.

Bishop Kallistos Ware says “Neither an Ecumenical Council, nor the Patriarchate of Constantinople or of Moscow, nor any other Mother-Church can create a new local Church. The most that they can do is to recognise such a Church. But the act of creation must be carried out in situ, locally, by the living Eucharistic cells which are called to gradually make up the body of a new local Church.” Our validation is through our building up the Body of Christ, not from any external source.

We have become accustomed to being outside the mainstream. Rome basically continued to exist alongside Utrecht until the re-establishment of the hierarchy in 1853. The Archbishops of Utrecht, while giving their allegiance were treated as outsiders. They were joined by Old Catholics who were alienated by the pronouncement of Papal Infallibility and found themselves outside the mainstream. Mathew's group then separated from Utrecht and a separation of the Union of Utrecht with the Mariavites later occurred.

Utrecht declared early on that it would not recognize Mathew’s orders or anyone from Independent Catholicism. This was repeated by Christoph Schuler in 1997 in “The Mathew affair: the failure to establish an Old Catholic Church in England in the context of Anglican Old Catholic relations between 1902 and 1925.” The rationale was that Mathew did not have the support he was promised for his consecration, but Mathew informed Utrecht of this in 1908 and was exonerated. Anglicanism declared at the Conference of Bishops of the Anglican Communion in 1920 that anyone from Mathew would be re-ordained sub-conditione. This was seemly under the guise that they had "the desire expressed at previous Conferences to maintain and strengthen the friendly relations which exist between the Churches of the Anglican Communion and the ancient Church of Holland and the Old Catholic Churches, especially in Germany, Switzerland and Austria."

Similarly in Brazil, Rome declared that "the Church has not recognized, does not recognize, and will not recognize [those ordained and consecrated by Bishop Carlos Duarte Costa]."1 However, this was not consistently followed with the reception of Bishop Salomao Barbosa Ferraz. ICAB was forced to change their rites of ordination and consecration because of the law prohibiting them from resembling Roman Catholicism.2 Yet, there is nothing to indicate that they are invalid wholesale or that they do not "do what the church intends."

Of course, part of the reality of these pronouncements is that no one truly recognizes each other. Since 1896, Rome has not recognized Anglican Orders. This recognition is less likely with the consecration of women bishops. Some Orthodox Churches recognized Anglican Orders, but this has also changed with the ordination of women. If and when the Union of Utrecht consecrates women, their orders will also be null in the eyes of Rome. Regarding Rome, the Orthodox do not have a unified view with some accepting their Orders and others even re-baptizing Roman Catholics. The Anglican Church considers some of the Lutheran Churches to have apostolic succession, but Rome (as of 2007) does not. Of course, Rome also states that consecrations which happened from their bishops outside of Rome will not be recognized (Milingo, Thuc, etc.) and for their part some of the bishops consecrated don’t recognize Rome (Thucites, etc.)! 

I should note that I do not think it is ill advised to to use the proper matter, form, and intent and ensure that your sacraments are acceptable in a wider ecumenical context for the benefit of the people of God. But, I understand this to be a separate issue than seeking validation. It is simply following the rescripts of larger Christianity.

I am not so naïve to think that life would not be a lot easier if we became part of a mainstream group. Ideally, there would be access to clergy, congregations, financial support, etc. that is not available in our present situation. It also would make us less likely to have schisms (although not entirely, as we have seen with Rome and the traditionalists, Canterbury and the Continuing Anglicans, Utrecht and the PNCC and Slovakia, etc.)

But I also see the reality presented. Groups joining Rome have not had the easiest time. The same is true for Western Orthodox groups joining Orthodoxy.  Both have or do experience suspicion from the inside and outside. Similarly, Utrecht would be ill advised to harm exclusivity with the much larger Anglican/Episcopal Church by recognizing Old Catholic groups in America. A desire does not translate to an easy journey or recognition.

Our movement is not easy. Every time I talk to a new candidate, I ask them “are you sure you really want to do this? It is a challenging life.” But I suppose you pick your poison. You can join with a larger denomination and lose independence but gain stability. Or you can remain and lose stability but gain independence. But, whatever we choose we have to legitimize ourselves and not look for the golden calf outside our own identities. 

1. Dr. Edward Jarvis, "God, Land, and Freedom."

2. Ibid.