One doctrine that many in the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox traditions like to champion is their concept of ‘Apostolic Succession’; essentially, the idea that they can trace back the teacher-disciple relationship of their priests and bishops back to Jesus himself.
In discussions with Reformed Protestants, they sometimes make the argument that the Protestant tradition is disconnected from history and from the faith that has been passed down, man to man, since Jesus himself. We must admit, it is a very rhetorically powerful argument. It’s the sort of thing that carries a lot of sway in martial arts: if you are a Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu teacher and your teacher was the student of the student of the great teachers from the Gracie family, that adds a lot of weight to your claim to authority.
So, why is it that Protestants, and specifically those who are in the Reformed tradition, place so little emphasis on this seemingly very powerful claim?
Well, the fact is that as Reformers, we distrust ourselves very deeply. Paul Washer once said that he doesn’t trust his son to be alone in a compromising environment, because he doesn’t trust his son’s father. The instinct to distrust yourself and your own affections is one that comes from repeatedly having the experience Paul had, which he so eloquently captured in the seventh of Romans:
For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.
Romans 7:15-20
The soul that has been powerfully captured by the unbelievable grace of God, the soul that has been washed and renewed, that has bathed in the graces of the word, the fellowship of the body, the proper administration of the sacraments, refreshing times of prayer and the wonder of the world God made, this soul is so stricken with pain when it finds itself wilfully committing sin, whether spontaneously or in a premeditated fashion. This is an experience peculiar to those who have been raised from death to life and seated in the heavenlies with Christ, because this experience is the special working of the Holy Spirit, who makes his home and dwelling place in the hearts of the elect, those wretched sinners whose mountain-heap of sin has been separated from them as far as the east is from the west.
So, when the Reformer says that he distrusts his desires, or his instincts, or his intuitions, he is not rejecting the powers of rationality and sense with which God has endowed him, rather, he is cherishing the incomprehensible love that God has showed him, by guarding his thoughts, actions and desires with a measure and a half of careful scrutiny. True worship may indeed be the most precious and wonderful thing in all the universe besides the God to whom it is directed.
Ok ok, you might say, but what has all that to do with the fact that it is the Patriarch of Constantinople’s Apostolic lineage that gives Orthodox believers the reassurance that their tradition is faithful to that of the first Christians?
Well, this author certainly rejects that premise, and let us now see why: Reformers do not trust themselves, nor any man. Rather, they trust God’s word in the one place where it is unchanging, and not subject to any curation, control or edition. This one place, this authority unique by its very nature, is the Holy Scripture. Where Popes and bishops and cardinals and councils and decrees and encyclicals all fall into error, God’s word is unchanging and perfect, but not only that, it is perspicuous. See the introduction to ‘The next few millennia of the End Times, and a comparison to the Quadrennial phenomenon of Olympic expertise’ for a brief outline of what perspicuity means for the Scriptures, but essentially, it is the assertion that God’s word can be understood by ordinary means of comprehension, and does not need some infallible interpreter to pronounce what the correct interpretation is on any one thing.
The rejoinder that usually comes up at this point is, ‘well, you can’t appeal to Scripture, because you can’t define what Scripture is without an external authority like The Church or Sacred Tradition’. This is false, and fails to take into account the complexity of how God’s people received God’s word, and also fails to trust that Yahweh, the personal God who has set his love on his people, would communicate clearly in such a way that his word would remain undefiled.
Many think that some kind of nebulous ‘tradition’ is the proper counterpart to Scripture, the proper safeguard against extra-biblical doctrines seeping in. The problem with tradition and following the way rather than the word is the people who keep on failing to walk that straight and narrow path. Let us quickly disabuse you of any false pretences: you are one of those people who cannot be trusted. It is true that many wonderful and Godly things can be learned by studying the way of a godly man or woman. It is true that Paul told Christians to imitate him, and he imitated Christ. That is true, and yes, and amen! However, the first reader to find a place where Paul advocated for the adherence to his way over and above the teachings of Scripture can contact this author, showing him that place in Scripture, and will find himself or herself the recipient of a long winded apology, potentially a cash prize, and the cause for a sheepish retraction of this here paragraph.
All jokes and tomfoolery aside, true apostolic succession doesn’t come from being ordained by the right guy, who can trace all the way back to Jesus. If you want evidence of this, listen to Pope Frankie for no more than five minutes, and you will realise that the old rhetorical quip ‘Is the Pope Catholic?’ has now become a serious point for debate. Pope Pius IX would have certainly excommunicated Pope Francis as a heretic. Don’t take this author’s word for it, read the Papal Encyclical of Errors. In some parts, it might as well be Pope Francis’ doctrine statement.
Indeed, true apostolic succession comes not from a lineage of names, but from faithfulness to the teachings found in God’s word. A man in Estonia who receives a Bible, commits his life to Christ, studies the word, and then goes on to Shepherd others and disciple them in the Christian walk is a man who has Apostolic Succession, even if he has never heard of Polycarp, or Ignatius, or Clement, or any church fathers at all, or any other ordinary Christian. This authority comes from holding fast to the same teachings as Jesus and the infallible words of Scripture.
If you prefer the meaningless game of tracing back the discipleship family tree back to Jesus, and that is your standard for authenticity and faithfulness in doctrine, then you have no argument against the ‘Anglican’ Priest with rainbow colours on one side of his Stole, and the symbols of Jainism, Buddhism, Islam, Zoroastrianism and Hinduism on the other, who is obviously profaning the Church of Christ, but who can also trace back his succession to Peter.
It is high time that we stopped treating this spectre of ‘the unbroken line of succession’ as some kind of powerful and august claim, but rather chortled quietly to ourselves, and went back to reading our Bibles.
Distilled Orthopraxy 