Provincialism and Catholicism

Posted by in Bible & Theology, Church & Missions

I really hate to do this, but to start this post off, I am going to have to talk a bit about the meanings of words. The two words in the title of this post, provincialism and catholicism, both have certain meanings you can find in many dictionaries, as well as in popular usage, that are not the same as how I want to use them here. Well, why, you might ask, don’t I just choose other less ambiguous words to say what I want to say? I seriously thought about that, but I couldn’t come up with any other words that express better what I want to say.

The word provincial, when used as a noun, according to the Merriam-Webster online dictionary, has the following meanings:

a: a person of local or restricted interests or outlook
b: a person lacking urban polish or refinement

In this post, I am using provincial in the first and NOT the second sense.

The word catholic, in popular usage, usually refers to the Roman Catholic Church. I am NOT using it that way here. Rather, I am using it as the counterpart to definition “a” above of provincial—that is, as having “global or broad interests or outlook.” As a matter of fact, it is my thesis that the Roman Catholic Church is decidedly NOT catholic in this sense. What happened early in church history was that the Roman church, which was by definition local and restricted, tried to impose its perspective as the only legitimate perspective for Christians in other places and contexts, thus passing off its provincialism as catholicism. Now, the Roman Catholic Church is plenty big. But being big, or even being the biggest, doesn’t make you catholic, at least not in the sense I am using it here.

My thesis is that we all need to be more catholic and less provincial. We need to live with the consciousness that we are a part of something bigger and broader than what goes on inside the four walls of our particular congregation, or denomination, or nation.

As missionaries, down through history, we have been notorious for taking norms and practices from our provincial background and seeking to pass them off as catholic—of taking music, organizational structures, labels, books, programs, etc. from our home culture, translating them as literally as possibly, transposing them, and imposing them upon other cultures.

A good illustration of this comes from my missionary experience overseas. On various occasions, I have had the responsibility of interpreting for English-speaking preachers who were preaching to a Spanish-speaking audience. When you are at home, speaking to your own people, the sermons that communicate the best are generally full of local color. The best preachers, the ones who connect the best with their audience, are usually the ones who use a lot of stories, folksy sayings, and language that are native to the people they are speaking to. But you take this same message, and take it to another place with another language, and if you translate it literally, it is practically incomprehensible. It is an interpreter’s nightmare. Local color doesn’t translate well.

So, as a preacher, what do you do? You have to know how to adapt your message to your audience. If you don’t know all the ins and outs of the culture of the people you are speaking to, it is best to preach a comparatively culturally neutral message, one that is relatively free of local color and idioms. But, as you get to know the culture of your audience, it is good to add in a bit of local color from their context, not yours, remaining cognizant, all the while, that you are still a learner, and need to be careful about assuming you know more than what you really do about their culture.

According to the heavenly vision of the Apostle John, when the Body of Christ that is being built up to become a holy temple in the Lord (Eph 2:20–21) is finally in its completed state, we will be gathered before the Lamb as one Body from every nation, tribe, people, and language (Rev 7:9–10). Not a melting pot, where all are differences have melted into oblivion, and all our colors have faded to gray, but rather that, as one multicultural church, the multicolored, manifold wisdom of God—that beautiful kaleidoscope of grace—may be made known to the rulers and authorities in heavenly places (Eph 3:8–10).

The early church started in a particular place with a particular cultural ethos. Among the original group, there were those who had no problem with the church spreading all over the world—as long as they maintained the original cultural ethos. They were called the Judaizers. But Paul had a more catholic outlook, and he withstood them to their face.

Roland Allen, in his classic Missionary Methods: St. Paul’s or Ours, makes an observation I had never really thought about before reading it from him. In Acts 15, Paul and Barnabas were sent by the Gentile believers in Antioch and Syria and Cilicia to inquire of the church leaders in Jerusalem regarding the necessity of circumcision and keeping the law of Moses. The verdict that was given was addressed, in turn, specifically to the Gentile believers in Antioch, Syria and Cilicia. Among the requirements that were given was that they should not eat anything sacrificed to idols. We may assume Paul and Barnabas, together with Judas Barsabbas and Silas, diligently took back the message they had received to those who had asked for it, and to whom they were instructed by the leaders in Jerusalem to take it. The curious thing, though, is, in Paul’s subsequent missionary journeys outside of Antioch, Syria and Cilicia, he never once mentions the message from the Jerusalem Council. And, whenever the issue of food sacrificed to idols comes up, he studiously avoids laying down a hard and fast rule, but chooses rather to talk to them of principles: principles of not causing your brother to stumble, and of not imposing your set of moral and ethical standards over someone else’s set of moral and ethical standards.

Now, that brings us up against another issue: are we, then, defending situational ethics? Not in the sense of “anything goes.” In this whole wide world, there are two things that are universal: the Word of God and the Gospel. The same Word of God and the same Gospel are normative for any time and any place. Thus, when I say catholic, I am not saying latitudinarian, in regard to the Word of God and the Gospel.

It is important to remember, though, that the New Testament is a book of principles, not of rules. I think most of us can agree, for instance, that, when it says, “greet one another with a holy kiss,” for us, in a different time and place, it doesn’t necessarily mean we must literally go around kissing each other. It means, rather, we should show each other outward signs of affection and acceptance, whatever the culturally appropriate way to do so may be in our particular context.

This next one is a little trickier, but when Paul talks about women and head coverings in 1 Cor 11:1–16, I think most of us would agree that the important thing is not a veil, or a hat, or a doily on the head, but rather that, in their outward appearance, and in the way they carry themselves, women ought to communicate an attitude of submission rather than of rebellion, and the cultural cues that outwardly communicate this attitude may also vary from cultural context to cultural context.

Now, it is precisely on this issue of provincialism and catholicism that most egalitarian interpreters of the Bible build their case. They say the guidelines Paul laid down for the believers in Corinth, and which he instructed Timothy to lay down in Ephesus, were specific to the cultural context. The general NT principle is that in Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female (Gal 3:28).

The problem with this is, on practically every occasion Paul gives what for us today is often seen as a controversial guideline on the role of women and men, he throws in some line or another indicating this is not just a provincial matter–it is something more catholic in nature. Consider, for example:

1 Cor 11:16. If anyone is inclined to be contentious, we have no such practice, nor do the churches of God.

1 Cor 14:33b-34. As in all the churches of the saints, the women should keep silent in the churches.

1 Cor 14:36–38. Or was it from you that the word of God came? Or are you the only ones it has reached? If anyone thinks that he is a prophet, or spiritual, he should acknowledge that the things I am writing to you are a command of the Lord. If anyone does not recognize this, he is not recognized.

1 Tim 2:11–14. Let a woman learn quietly with all submissiveness. I do not permit a woman to teach or to exercise authority over a man; rather, she is to remain quiet. For Adam was formed first, then Eve; and Adam was not deceived, but the woman was deceived and became a transgressor.

Now, exactly how we are to put into practice the underlying principle of complementary roles for women and men may vary a bit from cultural context to cultural context. But it seems quite clear to me that, for Paul, the general principle at stake was not one of provincial preferences or local customs.

The main idea of what I am hoping to say here has relatively little to do with Roman Catholicism and the role of women in church. I just chose those as examples to help illustrate my point about provincialism and catholicism. To be honest, this is an idea I’m still chewing on, what some might call half-baked. But I think there is some important truth here. Perhaps some of you can help me (and all of us) to think through this a little more…

• Do you agree, in accordance with the way I have defined these terms here, that, as Christians, we should seek to be less provincial and more catholic?

• What are some of the ways in which we approach missions and the way we do church from a more provincial rather than a catholic perspective?

• What are some of the specific ways we are tempted to dismiss universal biblical norms and principles as merely provincial?