The first formal Bible study I joined was an interdenominational one. This was four years ago. After a long absence from the Church (nineteen years) I had reentered the faith two years prior. I was not as committed to Catholicism as I am today. The Catholic Church was simply my church of preference.
Although I had eight years of parochial school, was college educated, and had already read through most of the Bible on my own, I was placed in a “beginners group.” I almost dropped out that first year from boredom. Luckily, another Catholic was in the group; she had been relentlessly badgered by Fundamentalists in another setting. She and I became fast friends as we bonded in our defense of the faith.
The purpose of this particular Bible study was to evangelize by studying “just the Bible.” The leaders intended not to get into denominational differences. These were admirable ideals, but they were impossible to adhere to. For one thing, I was continually delighted that first year to see distinctly Catholic teaching in the Bible, and I couldn’t always keep my mouth shut. Others felt the same. If they saw a passage in Colossians that seemed to contradict Catholic holy days, they spoke up. The sponsoring church was Calvinistic, and all the group leaders were from that denomination. For two years the pastor’s wife led my group, and one time, when frustrated by my questions, she blurted out, “Well, your Bible is wrong!”
This last year I wasn’t going to go back to the Bible study. My friend and I had started one in our own parish, and I didn’t like having to censor my thoughts. No one said I had to censor them, but that’s how I felt. My friend had been chased out the prior year when, during a study of Luke, she said, “Out of all the women of creation, Mary was chosen to be Jesus’ mother! She must be pretty special.”
A Fundamentalist jumped on her innocuous comment, saying, “That’s no reason to venerate her. All the honor should be going to Jesus.” My friend, being a gracious soul, was rendered speechless by the belligerent manner in which she was challenged. Mary’s perpetual virginity also came up, and an ex-Catholic flipped her Bible to the passage referring to Jesus’ brothers and started the usual routine. My friend never returned.
Despite this, I was drawn back this year. All the Catholics, who might be wavering, the ex-Catholics, who thought they had found the true light, and all the secret Catholic bashers beckoned me back. As it happened, I met one Catholic who, although committed to the faith, was ignorant of the Bible and hungry for the Word. Because of my presence, she joined our parish Bible study as well.
Do Venial Sins Exist?
I was no longer in a “beginners group,” and the women I studied with were intelligent and verbal. This year we studied a series on prayer, Genesis (Abraham and Sarah), and the book of Ruth. There was also what was called the Assurance Lesson. This was an opportunity for anyone who has not accepted Jesus as Lord and Savior to do so.
Our first study was an eight-week examination of prayer. By and large it was a good study. There’s much Protestants and Catholics agree on when it comes to prayer. The study guide described five different ways to pray: adoration, confession, thanksgiving, supplication, and surrender were given as the scriptural paradigm for prayer (ACTSS). The discussion of confession naturally involved a discussion of sin. The leader asked if there were any big or little sins. All the women chorused, “No.”
The leader affirmed, “All sin is abhorrent to God.”
“Excuse me,” I interjected, “You believe that all sin is equal?”
“Yes,” she replied.
The Fundamentalist who had chased my friend out the year before said, “Of course all sin is equal. Do you think God cares if a sin is big or little?”
“Do you think God judges murder the same as a white lie?” I retorted.
It’s Not in the Bible…
The leader decided to settle this for me by flipping to Romans 3:23, “All men have sinned and are deprived of the glory of God.” Everyone seemed to think the issue was settled.
“I agree with that,” I said. “All men have sinned. But that passage says nothing about all men having sinned equally.” The Fundamentalist started flipping. “You won’t find anything in the Bible saying all sin is equal,” I told her.
Then I flipped (after having peeked at my cheat-sheet of verses) to 1 John 5:16-17, “Anyone who sees his brother sinning, if the sin is not deadly, should petition God, and thus life will be given to the sinner. This is only for those whose sin is not deadly. There is such a thing as a deadly sin; I do not say that one should pray about that. True, all wrongdoing is sin, but not all sin is deadly.”
We moved on and discussed confession itself. The study booklet focused on two passages about the importance of admitting one is a sinner. As the discussion finished up I asked, “How can you talk about confession and not bring up James 5:16, which is about confessing your sins to one another?”
Avoiding Expected Arguments
One of the tactics I use is not to go for the most obvious Catholic passage. In this case it would have been natural to go for John 20:22-23, “Whose sins you shall forgive they are forgiven them…” Rather, I like to surprise them with a passage that may not be as important but makes them think because they don’t have a stock answer for it. The leader agreed it’s beneficial to confess sins to one another. She said she confesses to a small group of Christian women.
The Fundamentalist tentatively asked, “But you don’t have to confess your sins, right?” The leader assured her that indeed she did not. Then she turned to me and asked, “Kathy, what does your church teach about confession?”
What’s nice about this is that she was asking me. Protestants are terribly curious about what we do. When given an opportunity they will ask, and being asked is much better than being told, “You Catholics believe you can sin on Friday, confess on Saturday, and go to Communion on Sunday!” (which is true, but misleading). This gave me the opportunity to discuss the biblical foundation of confession (Matt. 18:18, John 20:22- 23), but more importantly it gave me the opportunity to explain what the sacrament is really like.
For example, I confessed that I once took a friend to get an abortion (during the years I was out of the Church). While not negating the seriousness of what I did, the priest put it a bit in perspective by saying, “Kathy, you did what you always do. You were trying to help a friend.” I have learned from past discussions that sometimes, when the doctrinal debate isn’t cutting it, a personal description will impress the listener. One person later told me that my words were the best explanation of confession she had ever heard.
In groups like these you need to choose your battles and not tackle every little thing that comes up. During the prayer series we discussed 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18, “Rejoice always, never cease praying, render constant thanks; such is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” The leader went around the room asking each of us if we did that. I said I sometimes like to turn off the radio when I am doing chores and pray. She asked me specifically how I prayed. I told her I said a combination of formal prayers, prayers that I had memorized, and made-up prayers. I did not mention I prayed the rosary; that would have been such a turn-off that they would not have listened to what else I had to say.
The Rosary—Indirectly
But I did find an opportunity to bring up the rosary once. In a discussion of Matthew 6:5-6, where Jesus instructs us to pray privately, the study book asked, “Does Jesus here condemn praying aloud in public?” Everyone, including me, agreed that of course that was not the case.
What Jesus condemned was hypocritical public prayer. I then noted that if that was the case for verse 6, it must be true for verse 7. Jesus was not condemning all repetitious prayer, but only hypocritical repetitious prayer. No one argued. I had undercut the “vain repetitions” argument used against the rosary.
When the prayer series was finished we began a study of Abraham and Sarah. As it happened, our Catholic Bible study was listening to a series of Scott Hahn tapes entitled Salvation History; in them he emphasizes Genesis. I was getting a double dose of Old Testament teaching. On the mornings of my Protestant study, I made sure I had reviewed the section of Hahn’s tape that covered the material.
The Protestant study guides had six or eight questions each week. Because of my busy schedule, I never answered each question in detail. I had found that when I did that I always sat around waiting to share whatever brilliant insight I had come up with rather than listening to what others had to say. I just scanned the questions to see if there was something distinctly Catholic in the verses and made note of it if there was. (There was usually at least one item.)
Apologetics is not always a debate. Often it’s a matter of illustrating agreement. During the Genesis study I was able to share insights the others could agree with, thanks to Hahn, who has a way of looking at varying explanations of difficult passages and choosing the one that makes the most sense. In this way, the group could see, by my example, that Catholics take the Bible seriously, do not take it out of context, and are not dumb.
Sometimes the most innocuous passage gives you the opportunity to share. Near the end of his life, Abraham desires to marry off Isaac. He has his servant swear an oath to procure a wife for Isaac from among his kinsmen. In the Bible study people commented about what a righteous man this servant was. I asked if the servant would have been righteous had he refused to help. They all agreed that until the servant swore the oath he was not bound.
“Perhaps he was not bound to swear the oath to his master,” I answered, “but would he be righteous to not do what his master desired? As Catholics we are often criticized for submitting to Church authority, and I wonder why, since you clearly think this servant was righteous for submitting to the patriarch’s authority.” (I wanted to say that perhaps Abraham was truly our first Pope, but I figured I should stop while I was ahead.)
Not Wanting to Look Cowardly…
Next came the dreaded Assurance Lesson. Despite my passion for apologetics, I don’t like head-on confrontation. This lesson dealt with an issue Protestants and Catholics disagree on, justification. I considered opting out, but I had made almost every meeting so far, and it would have looked self- condemning if I missed.
Happily, a friend had loaned me his series of tapes, by Scott Hahn again, on Romans. The tapes were about justification and how Romans validates Catholic teaching. I also prepared by re-reading the chapter in Karl Keating’s Catholicism and Fundamentalism on salvation. And I prayed.
The Assurance Lesson used Ephesians 2:1-10. I had no problem agreeing with the others that we do not “earn our salvation” (the topic of “works” did not come up), nor, of course, did I have a problem agreeing we are sinners in need of Jesus’ atoning sacrifice. But then the leader asked, “Can our salvation be taken away?” The answer around the table was, “No.” My hand went up.
“Yes, Kathy.”
“What happens to someone who has accepted Christ, who apparently has salvation, but sins big time? What happens if he dies unrepentant?”
Talking like Catholics
There was a pause. The leader chose her words carefully. “I believe he will be held accountable,” she said. I was thunderstruck.
“I agree,” chimed in others.
“But that’s the Catholic position You all sound like Catholics!” I sputtered.
“We don’t all agree on this issue,” said the Fundamentalist, but all the other Protestants did agree. The dissenter was apoplectic.
“You can’t lose your salvation! It’s impossible. God doesn’t take away his gifts.” The Fundamentalist looked troubled.
“True,” I replied, “but one can reject his gift.” All but one nodded.
This was strange. Here I was, worried I would be battling these Protestants on a basic issue that divides us, and they agreed with me! The discussion continued heatedly. I watched as the group debated the lone dissenter. Eventually things settled down, and we moved on.
I was nervously waiting for the leader to ask, “What do you need to be saved?” I was nervous because I wanted to explain simply and persuasively the Catholic viewpoint. Instead she looked straight at me and said, “Kathy, what drives you?”
I had not prepared for this one (it wasn’t in our study guide), so I took a deep breath and answered, “Grace. When I became a child of God, I became a sister of Christ’s. I need to accept the grace God freely gives me so I can grow up and be his obedient child.”
The rest of the year proceeded comfortably enough. There wasn’t much of apologetic interest in the book of Ruth. I remember we got onto the topic of sexual mores, and one of the members turned to me and asked, “Kathy, I don’t want to be offensive, but isn’t it true that your church doesn’t believe in contraception?”
I answered, “We believe exactly the same as all the Protestant churches did for 450 years. Protestant churches started accepting birth control only in 1930, but before that they all condemned it.” A good argument is made when you can show them that modern Protestant positions are not the same ones held by the Reformers.
Whether You Should Attend
Should Catholics attend interdenominational Bible studies? Yes and no. If you’re a devout reader of this magazine, I would say yes. You’re interested in apologetics, and This Rock equips you for the job. To others I would say be careful. If you haven’t studied the whys of Church teaching, you may be vulnerable.
I’ve found the rewards of attending are numerous. You develop an understanding and appreciation of the Protestant’s own walk with Christ. As you learn to answer objections to Catholic teaching, your own faith strengthens. You may be able to reach fellow Catholics before they leave the Church (I was able to keep one from going over to the Jehovah’s Witnesses, although I wasn’t able to convince her to stay in the Church). If you choose to enter an interdenominational Bible study, I recommend the following:
Develop your own style. It’s good to get ideas from others, but don’t worry about doing anything formulaic. If you can’t memorize chapter and verse, don’t worry about it. I have two children under five, work in the pro-life movement and in my parish, and am about to home school. I take comfort in the fact that Jesus didn’t cite books by name when he quoted Scripture. I keep in my Bible a little notebook with topics and appropriate verses listed. Sometimes the Protestant will actually help you find the verse. This puts you in a collaborative role in discovering the truth.
Watch Your Language, Please
Pose questions from their theological point of view, using their lingo. During a study of Luke I was able to rattle the pastor’s wife by asking if Mary was the first Christian. After all, she was filled with the Holy Spirit, was the first one to know Jesus personally, and certainly accepted him as her Lord and Savior. The pastor’s wife promised to find out and get back to me. (I’m still waiting for an answer.)
If you have a good grounding in your faith, listen to Protestant programming. I regularly listen to the Christian Research Institute’s “Bible Answers Man” radio show and read its materials. It gives the best arguments against Catholic teaching (especially against Marian doctrines). If you can work through their arguments (and I have – and you can too, with Father Mateo’s series in This Rock), you really come out strong.
Above all, ask Protestants how they converted and what their walk with the Lord is like now. After you have listened to them, they will ask about you. We all want converts, but that is not my personal goal in attending this type of study. I just want to be the best Catholic I can be, and I want to be the Holy Spirit’s instrument in planting seeds. I am confident that I will see the women I have studied with in heaven. I haven’t told them yet, but, of course, by then they all will be Catholics!