On Intentionality

Part 6, Tradition is No Escape

In this post I want to pick up where I left off in the last post.

To recap, one of the ways many low-church non-denominational Christians attempt to escape DIY Protestantism is to convert to Catholicism or Orthodoxy. The fissuring provisionality of Protestantism, rooted as it is in how the individual reads Scripture, is exchanged for a venerable and stable tradition.

What do I mean by DIY Protestantism? Think of a typical Sunday morning at a low-church Protestant congregation. While there might be a general and traditional flow to the service, much of what you experience and hear changes week to week. For example, at my church we celebrate the Lord’s Supper every week. And being low-church Protestants there isn’t a set liturgy for the Table. Nor do we have any sacramental theology to consecrate the experience. Rather, a member of the church is invited to share some thoughts about the Lord’s Supper. And these thoughts can be all over the place, week to week. Innovations can be introduced that are, frankly, bizarre.

Another example is how my church celebrates Lent. Again, as low-church Protestants we’ve never historically celebrated Lent. But wanting to enrich our spiritual formation culture we’ve begun to observe the season. And yet, our celebration of Lent is very DIY. Every year the materials shared with the church are different, often having very little to do with Lent as a penitential season. For some odd reason, my church thinks Ash Wednesday is about “contemplating your mortality.” We’re all existentialists! Plus, since Lent is so foreign to our tradition it’s not imposed on anyone as a hard expectation. You’re invited to participate in Lent. And you’re free to select your own personal Lenten practices. All that to say, when it comes to Lent at my church some people observe it and some people don’t and among those who observe Lent everyone is doing their own thing. Choose-your-own adventure Lent.

Those are a few examples from my church. Stepping back, there’s also the entrepreneurial and performative aspect of many non-denominational churches. Each church has its own brand and vibe aimed at attracting religious consumers who shop the church marketplace. The game of church growth is getting customers to buy your product.

Lastly, what do low-church Protestants believe? Well, they believe all sorts of different things, on just about every conceivable subject, from the atonement to Armageddon. Consequently, in choosing a church you’re also choosing what you want to believe. And even then it’s pretty low risk because if you change your mind you can simply find another church. And if you can’t find a church that fits you, you can start your own.

Now, compare all that to Orthodoxy and Catholicism. To be sure, churches and parishes have local character. But the liturgy and the beliefs are old and not open to debate. Nothing is provisional or up for grabs. Plus, while members do opt out of expected obligations this is understood to be problematic, a form of disobedience. You can get disciplined and excommunicated.

As mentioned in the last post, many low-church Protestants are converting to Orthodoxy and Catholicism because they find rest in the consistent stability of these traditions. Nothing has to be invented. Choices don’t have to be made. There is a givenness that doesn’t await a decision. And for many who have anxiously wandered the hermeneutical maze of low-church Protestantism, where doctrines multiply like rabbits, there is a sense of relief in arriving at a place where beliefs aren’t up for debate and will never change. Truth is no longer anything you can decide for yourself. The ruminating mind can stop its obsessive quest and finally come to rest.

Returning to the topic of this series, we can appreciate how the perennial call for “intentionality” is differently affected within Orthodoxy and Catholicism. Take, again, the example of Lent. In low-church Protestant spaces, Lent is framed as a practice of intentionality. During Lent we become more deliberate about our faith, and this intentionality is said to improve our spiritual lives. The vibe is one of spiritual self-improvement. In Catholic and Orthodox churches, by contrast, Lent is not something you invent but something you inherit. It is given, not chosen. The season arrives every year with its prescribed fasts and liturgies already in place. You simply step into it. There is a contrast here between choice, decision, intentionality, and invention versus obedience, givenness, participation, and inheritance. The former is ongoing and effortful and the latter, in its already-decidedness, is rest.

We can see the appeal here. Instead of faith always being “up to me,” something I’m always creating and inventing for myself, traditions like Orthodoxy and Catholicism allow us to escape this exhausting, never-ending work. Instead of being “intentional,” like deciding what I’m going to do for Lent, I just do the thing set before me.

And yet, there are three locations where I don’t think intentionality can be wholly escaped, even within the Orthodox and Catholic traditions.

First, as I pointed out in the last post, we’re embracing these traditions from within the secular, liberal order. We’re not living in Latin Christendom or the Byzantine East. Orthodoxy and Catholicism are not taken-for-granted cultural givens. One has to choose to become Orthodox and Catholic. You must intentionally swim the Tiber or turn toward the East. Faith in the modern world still pivots upon the choice of the individual. True, once chosen Orthodoxy and Catholicism are settled traditions that don’t require constant reinvention. But the traditions themselves must be embraced through an intentional act, a choice. And it’s a choice that never goes away and that has to made over and over again. In the taken-for-granted past deconversion wasn’t a live option. Today, it’s a constant temptation.

Second, while traditional practices don’t have to be invented over and over again, rites and rituals can become empty and rote. This is a horrible example to use, but it makes the point clear. Consider the Catholic sexual abuse crisis. The Catholic liturgy is beautiful, a sacramental wonder. But the venerable givenness of the liturgy doesn’t guarantee moral formation and sanctification. Not even of the priest. The heart of the person must be engaged. Intentionality cannot be avoided. We must bring ourselves--intentionally--to the sacrament for transformation to occur. There is a synergy between the divine and human wills that demands an intentional response from our side.

Lastly, submission is still a choice. In Orthodoxy and Catholicism the individual conscience must submit to the magisterial tradition and ecclesiastical authority. Individual autonomy is traded in for corporate obedience. Personal choice gives way to collective submission. But obedience is an intentional act, a choice that has to be made over and over again. Consider how conservative American Catholics responded to the pontificate of Francis. Many of them faced a crisis of conscience, causing some to revolt and rebel. Where was that longed for rest in the givenness of tradition in all that foment, drama, weeping and wailing? Catholics and the Orthodox do experience crises of conscience.

To conclude, I get why some low-church Protestants find peace when they convert to Orthodoxy and Catholicism. They really have escaped the liturgical and doctrinal churn of low-church Protestantism. They really have left a sector of Christianity that is performative, entrepreneurial, and consumeristic for something venerable and stable. But converting to Orthodoxy and Catholicism isn’t an escape from intentionality. The cultural givenness of Latin Christendom and the Byzantine East is gone. Converting to Orthodoxy or Catholicism cannot restore these traditions to a cultural taken-for-grantedness. Consequently, converting to Orthodoxy or Catholicism is a choice, and will always remain a choice each day of your life. In the modern world, deconversion is always a live option. And when the church goes sideways, you have to choose to either submit or rebel. Crises of conscience cannot be avoided. And finally, when another Lent rolls around or the Eucharist becomes rote and perfunctory, you have to step into that season and sacrament with renewed intentionality. True, you don’t have to make anything up. But you do have to show up. Not just physically, but mentally. And that showing up doesn’t happen accidentally. It’s a mental act. You have to be intentional.