The more things change…

…the more they stay the same. This is true because there is a pattern to creation. There is a pattern to human behavior and human endeavors, and to God’s symbology and design. Unexpected consequences are only unexpected to those who can’t or refuse to acknowledge the patterns.

But, yes, this particular post was inspired by a more specific concept: the more Protestants try not to be Catholic, the more they resemble Catholics. I’ve been mentally collecting a list for a while, ever since a Protestant worship service in which one of the church members felt inspired by the holy spirit to pray over bottles of water before sprinkling the congregation with it. So…uh, holy water? This happens at various Masses, too — except, unsurprisingly, the Catholic church doesn’t allow the average layperson to bless the water and sprinkle it over the people. But it’s still a natural religious practice because it’s reminiscent of baptism and the transformation of water into something more, something that can cleanse our souls.

Years ago, we briefly attended an SBC church that had a door-sized plaque with “Christian” commandments, such as, “I solemnly swear never to touch alcohol.” The entirety of it read like a creed of extra-biblical beliefs mixed with biblical ones, despite that Baptist churches don’t have creeds. If most Protestant churches don’t have giant plaques on their walls, they do indeed have creeds on their websites, called “statements of faith.” They generally aren’t that different from the Apostle’s or Nicene creeds. This makes sense, as creeds are like lines in the sand. They define what it means to be a Christian; they protect the faith from heresies that lead to destruction. We humans need parameters. In fact, God has given parameters to us from the get-go, knowing we would stray from them and giving them to us anyway.

Every year, fervent believers renew their relationships with God through penance such as fasting from certain foods and activities. Surely, that one is only for Catholics…? No, it’s really not. Despite that Protestants do not believe in works-based salvation, they understand that certain works are good for our souls. Consequently, every year I hear of more Protestant denominations who engage in a yearly Daniel fast in the month of January, as though they have now taken up their own church calendar. Sometimes it’s instead a fast from sugar or social media; other times, it’s a strict water fast. We instinctively know that a life of ease separates us from God. This is why I’m 100% unsurprised that Protestants have taken up this practice.

Speaking of church calendars, Protestants also conceded to Christmas ages ago. Go back and read William Bradford on how condescending the Protestant attitude used to be towards Catholics and Christmas. I would recommend reading Bradford’s own words if you don’t believe me that Christmas was looked down upon in the world outside liturgical Christianity. Yet, still, they caved because, in addition to deprivation, humans also need a right celebration in season, and what is better than celebrating the birth of the savior?

Back to solemnity, though, let’s talk about confession. It hasn’t escaped my notice that the latest catchphrase in Protestantism is “accountability partner.” An accountability partner is the person that one confesses sins to, especially those sins that are addictive, such as alcoholism and pornography and cynicism*. Humans are prideful creatures, as I’m sure you know from personal experience. It’s far too easy to hold our sins close and pretend we are repenting when we’re not. And then we repeat the same pattern of giving in to temptation, feeling guilty, crying out to God for relief, and then giving into temptation again. Vocalizing our sins to another human can disrupt this pattern. Also, another human can pray for us. [Confession to a priest is quite different, though, isn’t it? I’m not going to explain why right now. This post is already too long….]

I have to admit that I got to thinking about writing this post last Sunday after going to Protestant worship with my husband. They quite casually handed out little shrink-wrapped grape juice and wafer cups to all who entered the church, and then later, had the gall to lecture the congregation on taking it unworthily without examining conscience first. There was a distinct feeling of discomfort in the room after the pastor said his piece. And I have to admit it really bothered me, too. Why eschew the sacraments, and then attempt to hold them dear as a last ditch effort to hold back anarchy? It’s like never discipling children and then shouting at them when they’re out of control and ready to burn down the house and everyone in it.

Ultimately, what this all comes down to is structure. I’ve been known to laugh a lot…to take things lightly that other people take seriously. But the truth is, we all need to have appropriate seriousness for the things that matter. Our souls need it. Our churches need it. And we also need to have appropriate humility that we don’t know everything. The things of the past that we think would be good to dismantle end up leaving us without necessary structure, and so we recreate what we tore down and imagine our efforts are uniquely inspired.

*cynicism in the modern sense