Tuesday 28 April 2020

Comfort from a Catechism

Christian catechism - learning doctrine by question and answer - has long been one of the major ways the church has taught and formed Christians in correct doctrinal or theological understanding and formulation.  When done rightly, catechism can be part of robust Christian formation or disciple-making, incorporated with other Christian practices such as corporate and personal worship, liturgical formation, preaching and studying Scripture, the sacraments, prayer, meditation on Scripture, along with Christian fellowship and mutual Christ-like sisterly/brotherly love in action.

Not all catechisms are created equal, of course.  Several branches of the church have produced various versions of catechisms over the centuries.  These catechisms have often been produced in response to the theological debates or church issues of their day.  Reading them today can be an interesting experience.  It can tell us a lot about the doctrinal convictions of the opposing sides in theological conflicts.  But beyond just the theological or ecclesial controversies, reading catechisms can tell us a lot about what Christians were dealing with in the place and at the time a catechism was written. 

Considering just the catechisms of the Reformed churches of the 16th and 17th centuries is an interesting practice.  Some years ago, I read through this very good harmony of the Reformed Confessions and catechisms.  Some are more theologically oriented, sometimes getting very granular  on particular points of doctrine and seeking precise formulations on theological issues.  This was the case for the Westminster Confession (1647) and so also the Larger Catechism that later accompanied it.  Others tend to be written from a more inclusive standpoint, aiming at a broader acceptance and subscription.  One is not necessarily better than the other.  Comparing them is informative.  The first question of the Westminster Larger Catechism (1648) is:
Q. 1:  What is the chief and highest end of man?
A.:  Man's chief and highest end is to glorify God, and fully to enjoy Him for ever. 
(Rom. 11:36; 1 Cor. 10:31; Ps. 73:24-28; Jn. 17:21-23)
That is a precious truth.  However, for daily life and for existential, experiential usefulness, I prefer the Heidelberg Catechism to the Westminster, especially in a time of difficulty, suffering, or crisis.  There is doctrinal truth in both, and right doctrine is helpful, pastoral, and comforting.  Right doctrine trains our minds and shapes our hearts, it forms our thinking such that we begin to act in light of the truths we learn as they sink deep down into the core of our being.  But the  Heidelberg catechism has a more personal, devotional, pastoral, and more down-to-earth, everyday-life sort of feel.  The Westminster (Larger & Shorter) Catechisms should never be thought of merely as right theological things to think - they were meant by the pastors and theologians who wrote them to shape what Christians believe and be the truths in whose light we live.  But their language can sometimes sound like the correct answers to a theological final exam.  The Heidelberg Catechism puts the answers in the first person, so that "I" am answering.  These are my thoughts, my answers, my convictions - this is my faith, not merely the faith. 

Many times over the last weeks, when reading news reports about COVID-19 or Christian reflections about it, I have been reminded how greatly Christians today could benefit from committing the first question of the Heidelberg Catechism (1563) to heart:
Q. 1:  What is thy only comfort in life and death?
A.:  That I with body and soul, both in life and death, am not my own, but belong unto my faithful Saviour Jesus Christ; who, with His precious blood, hath fully satisfied for all my sins, and delivered me from all the power of the devil; and so preserves me that without the will of my heavenly Father, not a hair can fall from my head; yea, that all things must be subservient to my salvation, and therefore, by His Holy Spirit, He also assures me of eternal life, and makes me sincerely willing and ready, henceforth, to live unto Him.
(1 Cor. 6:19-20; Rom. 14:7-9; 1 Cor. 3:23; 1 Pet. 1:18-19; Jn. 1:17; 1 Jn. 3:8; Heb. 2:14-15; Jn. 6:39; Jn. 10:28-29; Lk. 21:18; Matt. 10:30; Rom. 8:28; 2 Cor. 1:22; 2 Cor. 5:5; Rom. 8:14; Rom. 7:22)
It helps us to remember that one of the things the first few generations of Protestant Reformers frequently had to do was to pastor their own families and congregations through times of plague and pandemic.  As historian Bruce Hindmarsh likes to remind his students, these times were
pre-anesthetic, pre-analgesic, and pre-antiseptic.  Pain was a big part of life.  Death, including death of children, or death of loved ones from plague, was common.  I can't help but think that those who wrote the Heidelberg Catechism had such times in mind when they formulated the first question and answer.

What is your only comfort in life and death?

May we all be able to answer in the words of the Heidelberg Catechism:
 That I with body and soul, both in life and death, am not my own, but belong unto my faithful Saviour Jesus Christ...