Shortly after Anglicanism had replaced Catholicism as the state religion of England, Rome pronounced that the line of apostolic succession had been broken. This was based on the premise that Jesus selected the Apostles as, in effect, the first bishops of the infant Christian Church. These apostle-bishops appointed others to function in this succeeding apostle-bishop role. Those who succeeded the Apostles in turn appointed others to exercise leadership and eventually to replace themselves. And so it went through the centuries. As far as the Church of Rome was concerned, two conditions were required for full membership in the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church: the bishops of said Church must be able to trace themselves in unbroken line to the original Apostles. And second, said Church’s bishops must subject themselves to the authority of the Pope.
A Church may refuse submission to the Pope while continuing to touch base with the apostolic line. In which case, Rome declares such a Church to be a schism or a schismatic church. Thus, for example, Rome recognizes the validity of the hierarchy, priests, and sacraments of all Orthodox churches. But the Orthodox are not joined to, or in communion with, Rome. Indeed, only recently did the Pope and the Patriarch of Constantinople rescind the excommunications they leveled at each other back on July 16, 1054.
In somewhat worse shape, at least from the perspective of Rome, are those Christian Churches that are not only out of communion with Rome but also have broken the apostolic line. Rome terms them heretical. Such is the case with all of Protestantism-at least according to Rome.
However, closest to Catholicism of all so-called Protestant Churches is Anglicanism. At one point in their history, Rome charges, the Anglicans radically changed the prescribed intent in their ordination ceremony and thus broke the apostolic succession requirement, becoming not only schismatic but heretical to boot. Yet in ceremony, vestment, hierarchical structure, and-since Rome approved vernacular liturgy-language, there is little if any visible difference between the two Churches.
Father Koesler did not need to recall this history in detail. Catholics are, or were, taught the differences between their “one true” Church and everyone else’s very early in life and regularly thereafter.
Awareness of all this compelled Koesler to reexamine his response regarding Benbow’s attending Mass. Episcopalians had no trouble whatsoever in permitting Catholics to receive Communion at an Episcopal Eucharist. Though Catholics, who had been carefully taught, seldom presented themselves at an Episcopal Communion railing. A matter of invalid sacraments and all that.
But, officially, only in specifically spelled-out circumstances, none of which, clearly, applied in the present moment, could a Catholic priest invite Protestants to receive Communion.
Would the Benbows present themselves to receive Communion at Koesler’s Mass?
After giving the matter a solid thirty seconds of concentrated thought, Koesler concluded: Who cares?
The Pope cares. Various members of Church officialdom in Rome care. Most bishops would care, if only because they would be expected to care. Self-appointed Church vigilantes dedicated to keeping the Church holier than Christ established it would care. And Mark Boyle, Cardinal Archbishop of Detroit, if inescapably forced to face the issue, would have to care. Past practice would indicate that if Cardinal Boyle were forced to deal with the problem, he very well might establish a blue-ribbon commission to study the matter into eternity. It was one of many reasons why Koesler so admired Boyle: With the world falling down around our ears, whether or not sincere people could worship the same God together was of little importance.
Koesler realized that probably he was projecting his own feelings onto Benbow. Probably David Benbow felt no embarrassment in this situation. He might only have been observing some self-imposed protocol in asking if it would be permissible for him and his wife to attend Mass.
Be that as it may, Koesler felt the potential for embarrassment in the question. Koesler was at an unfair advantage. They were at a Catholic college, in a Catholic chapel. It was Koesler’s home field advantage and Benbow couldn’t even compete.
All these considerations took only moments to flash across Koesler’s mind.
He turned determinedly to Benbow. “I have a thought: How about concelebrating with me?”
Benbow was clearly startled. “Are you sure? I mean, are you sure you want to make this offer?”
“Believe me,” Koesler said, “I am well aware of the complexities. But I don’t think there’ll be any problem. This is a small and tightknit group we have here. Like-minded people, I think. I really doubt there’ll be any trouble. In fact, I think I would have had a problem if I hadn’t invited you to celebrate the Eucharist with me.”
“If you’re sure?”
“I’m sure. How about it?”
“I think it would be grand. And I’m grateful.”
“Then come on,” Koesler said, “let’s see if we can find a couple of decent-sized albs in here.”
Rummaging through the vestment cases, they managed to uncover two large-sized albs. That was adequate for Benbow. Koesler needed an extra large, but by now he was convinced he wasn’t going to find one. Large would have to do. It was, in any case, a significant improvement over the previous medium size.
They were nearly completely vested when the door to the sacristy opened and, somewhat breathlessly, Father Augustine entered, clad in Trappist habit.
“I hope I’m not too late to. .” His voice trailed off. “What’s this?” he asked, as he realized that both Koesler and Benbow were vested. “What’s the meaning of this!”
“Welcome,” said Koesler, warmly. “I wasn’t expecting you. Feeling better?”
Augustine ignored the question. “I came down to concelebrate the holy sacrifice of the Mass.”
The tone of voice and needless adjectives told Koesler here was trouble on a collision course. Nonetheless he chose to avoid a scene if at all possible. “And so you shall concelebrate. As soon as we find some vestments for you.” If there was going to be any unpleasantness it would be of Augustine’s doing.
Augustine readily accepted the challenge. “Father Koesler, is this some sort of joke? If so, it is in very poor taste.”
Koesler, in turn, was quickly running out of bonhomie. “It’s getting kind of late to start a canonical or theological disputation.” He went to the door leading to the sanctuary and glanced into the chapel. “There are two nuns, Mrs. Benbow, and a couple of young ladies-students, I suppose-who are waiting for nothing more than a simple celebration of Mass. And we are, by this time, a couple of minutes late. Now, do you or do you not wish to concelebrate?”
“With whom? A heretic and someone who is violating the laws of God?”
“Now wait a minute!” Koesler was angered by Augustine’s gratuitous use of the word heretic.
“There’s no need for this,” Benbow said apologetically. “I. .” He began to remove the vestments he had donned.
“No, don’t!” Koesler gestured, stopping Benbow. “Now look here, Augustine, there’s no need for you to be so priggish.”
“Priggish!” Augustine shot back. “Was Jesus being priggish when he cast out the moneychangers from the Temple?”
“Moneychangers! Are you kidding?”
“There is no justification whatsoever for you to concelebrate Mass with a representative of a heretical Church!”
“I assume you are allowed to read in the monastery, Father,” Koesler said, “even if only ecclesial documents. If you’ve been reading, you know that the joint Catholic Anglican Commission has all but granted the validity of Anglican orders.”