Five hundred years ago, the Reformers sparked a permanent split between the Roman Catholic Church and Protestant Christians. The corruption, both in doctrine and in practice, was rampant throughout Catholicism during the time of Martin Luther and John Calvin. It is no wonder that they passionately called out the faults of the “official” Church and their popes. It is also no wonder that when change did not come, they ultimately broke away from the entity altogether.

Today, many of the doctrinal and practical differences between Protestants and Catholics remain. And in my estimation, as a Protestant, many of the problems that were prevalent during the time of the Reformation still remain within Roman Catholicism. My thoughts as I write this, however, are less about the particular issues with the religion of Catholicism and more about a popular principle in Reformed circles that is often forgotten, or at the very least misapplied. That principle is adequately summed up with the latin phrase, Semper Reformanda – “Always Reforming”.

Anyone alive today is quite far removed from the actual split that took place between these two movements in the 1500s. Because of this, most of us see Catholicism and Protestantism as completely separate religions altogether, and in some sense rightly so. Though we certainly share many similarities with one another, Protestants and Catholics are not the same. What we often forget, however, is that this was not always so. In fact, up until the Reformation there was no real difference at all. For the first 1500 years of Church history, there is more or less only one movement through which both Protestants and Catholics trace their history. Looking back from our vantage point in history, we can certainly see distinct and traceable fault-lines between the two much earlier, but for the people living at the time that was not the case. They simply saw themselves as one church carrying on the work of Christ and His apostles.

As a Protestant, it is of course my contention that what we now call Roman Catholicism is a departure from what the early church taught and believed. This departure from Truth did not take place in an altogether malicious manner, though. It happened rather naturally. I would actually say that it was the most natural thing that could have happened. All things decay in this life. So it is no surprise that the Church did the same. It is precisely this natural decay that makes semper reformanda so vital. Unless we work to constantly re-form ourselves to what is proper and good, we will naturally begin to go bad. Just as the Church had done by 1517.

My point in taking the time to mention a brief bit of (admittedly unacademic) Church history is simply this: It might benefit us from time to time to think about the Roman Catholic Church not as something “separate” from us, per se, but rather as “us” gone wrong. Catholicism is not a completely distinct worldview that was dreamt up all on its own like Mormonism or Scientology. Rather, it was a faithful representation of Christ’s Church that slowly descended down a dark path, until eventually it became so utterly corrupted that Calvin no longer considered it a real church at all.

I make this distinction not to lessen the serious differences between Protestants and Catholics, of which there are many. Instead, I want to ask others in my theological heritage that we stop looking at the Catholic Church as some outside enemy, but rather as the result of inward failures that can very easily take place again. In short, I believe that the faults of Catholicism should serve as a warning, not as a source of theological and spiritual arrogance. It should remind us of the power we have to really screw things up, even if we began as something good. With proper self-reflection, we should be spurred on to humility and watchfulness when we see the failures of others, not puffed up with pride.

The apostle Paul was surely aware of this natural danger and decay. His letters to young pastors under his care are full of exhortations to protect the Church from error and carefully cling to right doctrine. We are all called to practice constant vigilance, for the Church today is just as prone to drifting away as it ever was.

Vigilance is not merely a corporate practice, however. It is also a vital individual practice. It might be fair to say that we must practice personal vigilance even before we can appropriately turn our attention to corporate vigilance. The Church is, after all, made up of individuals. Any issue, therefore, that possesses the power to lead the Church astray can only do so because we as individuals have failed to be watchful of our own personal life and doctrine.

Before I conclude, I must confess that the idea for this particular blog post did not come from reflections on Roman Catholicism. That was just a convenient example that came to mind as a helpful introduction. My initial thoughts were much more personal.

You will not be surprised to know that as I look around at the world right now, I see a lot of anger and hate. It’s easy to sit around and launch theoretical grenades of criticism at all of the deplorably sinful people around us. There is no shortage of truly terrible people in the world, both now and throughout history. Rarely, though, do I see anyone targeting all of that rage at the only sin for which we are ultimately responsible: our own.

Perhaps you, like me, are often content to look at the wrongdoings of politicians, murderers, rapists, liars, heretics, rioters, or abusive cops and cry out with rage, “How could they do something like that!?” (The hidden implication of course being, “I could never do such a thing!”) I think that another more candid way of putting these thoughts of ours might be aligned with the prayer of the Pharisee: “God, I thank you that I am not like these other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector” (Lk. 18:11)

But in my most honest and humble moments, God is gracious enough to grant me a more proper attitude: “Be merciful to me, a sinner!” (Lk.18:13)

It is in those moments that I look within myself and see the potential for great darkness. I see that without the grace of God I would no doubt find myself among the most wicked of men.

I see in myself the seeds of pride, greed, selfishness, lust, deception, and hate to which I still often give in. I look on these inward parts of myself and know without a doubt that if the restraints of God’s hand in my life were lifted for a second, I could easily put the sins of Adolf Hitler, Ted Bundy, Joseph Stalin, or—yes—even Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton, to shame.

When I look on sinners like them I see myself as I asked us to see the Roman Catholic Church, that is, “me” gone wrong. Or, more accurately, the natural “me” when left completely to my own devices. I realize with blinding clarity that I am indeed the foremost of sinners (1 Tim. 1:15), and should therefore spend more energy on removing the log in my own eye instead of sitting in angry judgment over others.

And now I come back to where this whole thing started. I am reminded of the terrifying danger that hides behind that pithy little Latin phrase: Semper Reformanda. I’m reminded that the whole reason we must be “always reforming” is that we are so unbelievably prone to wander away from our Shepherd. I’m reminded that if I am not constantly working to reform myself into the perfect image of Christ, then I will soon find myself to be a most despicable wretch.

And just as I begin to think on that, I am suddenly hit with this inevitable conclusion: I am so broken and weak that even my efforts at reform are useless. With my pitiful endeavors, I’ll still end up just as deplorable as ever. And it is here that I finally see what surely the Reformers would have believed as they dwelt upon our need for reform.

It is not really I who must be always reforming, but it is God who I must trust to never stop reforming me.

“Ah! What a mercy it is that it is not your hold of Christ that saves you, but His hold of you! What a sweet fact that it is not how you grasp His hand, but His grasp of yours, that saves you.”
– C.H. Spurgeon

Create in me a clean heart, O God,
and renew a right spirit within me.
– Psalm 51:10

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