Cyprian is securely in the upper echelons of Important Saints of the Early Church. He lived in northern Africa during the third century and adroitly dealt with various heretics and schismatics. (Basically, schismatics are heretics that believe their heresy to actually be orthodoxy. They eventually lose out, as do all heretics.)

What is noteworthy, though, is the issue of “novelty.” Novelty–newness, something different than what came before, an innovation, something out of the ordinary–is something that Cyprian struggled mightily with. Before his conversion to Christianity, Cyprian was a learned educator, well-versed in philosophy and languages, and a very deep thinker on all levels. When presented with the claims of Christianity, he simply could not wrap his mind around how someone (he) could just suddenly up and become a “new man”–having the same body, the same home address, the same biological family, the same history, the same learning, the same background, but suddenly be of such a different mind and way of life as to represent an utter disjunction between the new and the old.

Yet Cyprian testified that he experienced this through the sanctifying waters of his baptism. Having made the leap of faith, believing that what seemed logically impossible could come to pass, Cyprian sought the sacrament and was forever after changed…indeed, he became a new man.

What becomes difficult for me to fully embrace is how Cyprian then became such a champion of orthodoxy, and stood so resolutely against Novatus–a fellow priest who, among other “sins” was a “lover of novelty” in his (Novatus’) theology. Novatus did not cling to “that ol’ time religion” and therefore his beliefs had to, by definition, be wrong. The particular issue between them had to do with whether or not a baptized Christian could deny Christianity when the persecutions were fierce, and then, when things had cooled off, rejoin the Christian communion after showing proper penance. Novatus said “no”–that this was a great dishonor to the martyrs and that there would be no guarantee of faithfulness during any future waves of persecution. (And, Novatus warned, such people would be quite likely to give the persecutors names and addresses.) Novatus said No.

Cyprian, for his part, felt that the Church was in no position to close the door to anyone willing to repent and (re-)join the flock. Thus the people at issue–called the Lapsi (the ones who had lapsed in their faith)–should not forever be barred from again enjoying the grace offered through the Church. Ironically, with Cyprian, the Lapsi were ok, but the heretics were not. In other words, it was ok to fall away from what was “right” as long as you came around to agreeing about what was right in the first place; it would never be ok to disagree on the issue of what IS right (i.e., orthodoxy), however. If Novatus were to repent of his viewpoint, then that would be acceptable. Otherwise, he would forever stand outside the Christian communion.

For myself, I appreciate the acceptance of human frailty evinced by the re-admission of the Lapsi. Peter was forgiven after denying Jesus, after all. What I don’t appreciate is when diversity of opinion or thought is not acceptable. It is a personally sore subject for me, and it is difficult for me to see how a religion can so fully innovate the ideas of what a Messiah is, what salvation is, what death means–but can then turn around and decide to close the book on future “novelty” or innovation.

Reform Judaism is a shining example of a religion that recognizes that new ideas and new circumstances can indeed to lead to new formations of the very structure and even nature of a worshipping body. They are quite clear–they are “Reform” and not “Reformed”–in contrast to Reformed Christian traditions (among them are some Presbyterians, Baptists, Lutherans), their goal is not to institute a course correction and go back to the First Truths of the Faith, but to be open to ongoing revelation, to dynamic change that is consonant with truth as discovered through the life of the community-in-God, to…the Unknown and Unknowable.

So, unlike with Orthodox Judaism, one may find female rabbis, same-sex marriages blessed, Friday night worship services, utter disagreements about what is authoritative and what is not, converts from among those not born Jewish, and a concomitant healthy respect for diversity. And, in my personal experience, neither God nor grace are absent among those who are part of Reform Judaism! Face it: Orthodoxy–in whatever religion, in whatever guise–does not lead to grace. And if it could, it wouldn’t be grace.