Eugene R. Schlesinger’s new book Ruptured Bodies: A Theology of the Church Divided could easily be subtitled ‘A Theology of Inclusion’, for that is what it offers. In chapter 1, he argues that the church has always been a ruptured body. Rather than returning to a false primitivism with a feigned unity, he follows Rowan Williams and Henri de Lubac by locating the church’s unity in Christ. Chalcedon’s Definition of Christ as ‘two natures in one person’ provides a model for diversity in unity. However, this ideological model moves beyond Chalcedon by allowing differences not only over adiaphora but also upon essentials. As he states: ‘the church’s unity can and should encompass dissensus even on matters that are not indifferent, and the conflictual processes whereby these matters are adjudicated’ (pp. 25, 45). This unique understanding of unity includes diversity, deformity and even hostility since disunity is a failure of diversity in believing that Christ’s love embraces our differences and hostilities.
In chapter 2, Schlesinger argues that ruptures in unity result from failures to love. The meaning of sacrifice, cross, Eucharist and church as Christ’s body is love. A failure to love led the Donatist to set up ‘altar against altar’, as Augustine says, to remain pure by separation (p. 44). On the contrary, Augustine taught that the church embraces the personal moral failings of people without agreeing to them. Similar to Donatism, the Great Schism (1054) and the Reformation are further examples of failures to love. But even love has a limit. Anglicans set that limit in the Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral and its teaching that the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed is ‘the sufficient statement of Christian faith’ (pp. 51, 175). Thus, among credal churches, at least, there remains a possibility for eucharistic fellowship.
In the past, the church has employed ‘a crucifying unity’, thereby leaving it divided, as Schlesinger asserts in chapter 3. Punitive theories of atonement that treat Christ as a surrogate are rejected because they support ‘a crucifying unity’ in which marginalised groups are ‘enjoined to voluntarily endure their crucifixion for the good of the whole’ as opposed to the ‘way of Jesus’ (p. 96). This is evident in how the church’s ‘cisheteronormative patriarchial white supremacy’ has excluded the voices of women, BIPOC, LGBTQ and API people (pp. 61, 94, 99, 145). Moving toward a theology of inclusion, Schlesinger examines the divisions over human sexuality in Anglicanism. On the one hand, Augustine’s anti-Donatist writings show that communion with the sinful does not contaminate the church, unlike breaking communion, which departs from the path of salvation, as he implies the Anglican Church in North America has done. Yet, on the other hand, he contends that the bonds of charity are broad enough to encompass those, like the Communion Partners, who remain in the church but are opposed to the inclusion of LGBTQ people. Through love, the church’s division can be overcome by a ‘eucharistic solidarity’ with those of marginalised identities (p. 95).
In chapter 4, Schlesinger gives an interesting ecumenical proposal, even though his stated purpose is to offer ‘a theology of the church divided, not a recipe for its union’ (p. 109). He sees the Catholic Church as the locus of unity but with an Anglican corrective. Following Lumen Gentium, he argues that the universal church ‘subsists in’ the Catholic Church, and following Dominus Iesus, he notes other churches exist outside of it (p. 114). Then, following Anglicanism, he holds with Archbishop Michael Ramsey and the Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral that episcopacy is the locus of unity. So, how would such a proposed unity work? Instead of following the route taken by the Uniate churches and the Anglican Ordinariate of assimilation into the Catholic Church by reordination, one should rather follow the path taken by the Church of South India in which the historic episcopate was bequeathed to non-episcopal churches without requiring reordination. Thus, a theology for reunion already exists, provided there is a kenotic mutual self-recognition among divided churches and a desire for reunion.
Since church divisions arise from human decisions that are failures to love, Schlesinger argues in chapter 5 that there are no ‘prescriptions’ but ‘only the proscription of self-repudiation’ (p. 152). But is self-repudiation enough to hold together opposing views on difficult issues like human sexuality? Schlesinger thinks it is. Since division arises from lost charity, reunion will arise by embracing each other’s diversity, disagreement and incompatibility in love. On this point, further engagement with the other notae ecclesia is needed for a more fulsome approach.
Overall, Schlesinger’s work provides a theology of inclusion for a divided church with an interesting ecumenical proposal. It naturally raises a question about using assent to the Creed as the boundary of inclusion. If the Creed is a sufficient statement of faith for Anglicans, does that also make it a sufficient statement of faith’s practice? Traditionally, faith has been described as ‘faith working through love’ (Gal. 5:6) in scripture, Augustine, the Anglican Homilies and the Catholic Church. That is to say, the biggest difficulty with Schlesinger’s notion of unity is that some readers will conceive of the church’s oneness as subsisting with the other notes of holiness, catholicity and apostolicity, not apart from them.
