To forgive or not to forgive–that is the question. Christians, it is supposed, are forgivers. Experience has taught many of us otherwise.
This column has often discussed those martyrs who refused to deny their faith, even upon pain of death. The Church has taught, for the better part of two millennia, that such persons went directly to heaven upon their death, bypassing purgatory. They were automatically cleansed from any sins that they might have committed prior to dying in defense of their faith.
But…what about those persons who were Christians, yes, but who feared torture and death, and who, during the various waves of persecutions, recanted their faith? Those who made the appropriate sacrifices or pledges to the emperors and their minions, and who hid or outright denied the fact that they were Christians? What about these people? Should they be forgiven/were they forgivable? [Of course, there is no issue involved if these people did not seek to be restored to the Church’s communion.] This particular group of people were even given a name: the “Lapsi” (i.e., baptized Christians who lapsed from the faith under threat of persecution and then later sought to make amends).
In the mid-3rd century, before Christianity was “safe for all” (i.e., the official religion of the Roman Empire), one priest named Novatian took a stand: NO! Lapsi would NOT be re-admitted to churches under his leadership! Their faith, having been tested, was found wanting, and they could not be trusted not to turn their back on their faith again. Moreover, they would likely be the type who would “name names” in any future persecutions of Christians. Novatian said NO to the Lapsi!
There’s much to be said for Novatian’s position. But this created a strange conundrum–it could be argued that the only people who were not “Lapsis” were already martyred! What, after all, is the moral difference between taking steps to leave town ahead of the persecutors and being cornered, threatened with torture, and giving in to the Roman oppressors instead of being slaughtered?
Moreover, what about that first of all popes, St. Peter? When faced with the capture of Jesus, he three times denied his relationship with Christ–and Peter was certainly forgiven. So, then, if Jesus could forgive Peter, how could the Church not forgive the Lapsi?!
Today’s saint–Stephen– was the pope who ultimately decided to welcome the Lapsi (the ones sincerely wanting to return to Christianity) back into communion. And he declared what came to be called “Novatianism” a heresy! He did not agree that individual parishes would be laboratories for making their own decisions about something this important–namely, who can or who cannot be forgiven. THE CHURCH SHOULD AND WOULD STAND FOR FORGIVENESS!
This very powerful position, spearheaded by Pope Stephen in the mid-200s, made turning your back on the faith forgivable–and any contention to the contrary a heresy. Yeah, this to my mind, qualifies him for sainthood!
It does raise the question to all of Christendom–what the heck has happened since? Why would the church ever decide that anything (from divorce and homosexuality to different views about the nature of an actually unknowable God) was sufficiently sinful to set someone outside God’s grace?
The pushback answer is “Well, even these sins you mention can be forgiven if the person is sincerely and thoroughly repentant–that was true for the Lapsi!” Here’s what doesn’t hold together theologically, though: You can’t say that God is the sole source of grace and forgiveness, and then turn around and set human requirements for who may or may not (and under what preconditions) receive that grace.
Wasn’t that one of the lessons of the story of the Prodigal Son (Gospel According to Luke 15:11-32)? The son came back to his father’s estate, and was welcomed–no questions asked, no promises exacted, no behavioral changes required.
So, as Australians say in some of my favorite binge-watchable television programs (A Place to Call Home, Rake, Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries): Good on ya’, Pope Stephen! You GOT IT–even if, sadly, much of Christianity subsequently lost it in the years that followed.