Can a Cyprian Be Our Saint

We humans can neither create nor define the universal.

I just heard a presentation on how Bishop Cyprian, aka St. Cyprian tried to deal with the problems that emerged for 3rd century Christian communities in the wake of the Decian persecutions. In these persecutions large numbers of Christians saved their own lives by participating in the official state sacrifices. 

Once the persecutions were over the question arose as to whether these Christians could return to the church, and in particular its eucharistic fellowship. And Cyprian tries to address this.

Wow. He doesn’t come across very well. 

First, some of arguments sound strange. He references miraculous punishments of impenitent Christians who try to participate in the Eucharist, some dying or suffering on the spot as the sacrament turns to poison. He speaks of the active work of demons in the lives of those who joined the imperial sacrifices. This isn’t the world many of us live in. 

Second, his arguments are all about purity, as in the purity of the church and the sacraments. They echo the apostle Paul’s language in I Corinthians 6, but now in terms of the sacrificial cult of Rome. It isn’t the language of sin and repentance with which American Christians are more familiar. He raises the real question of whether someone who has already been baptized can ever be cleansed again after having participated in a demonic cult. When was the last time we talked about unforgivable sins?

Third, he’s concerned with the role of the martyrs in maintaining the purity of the church. The Christians who gave in and offered sacrifices and then wished to return to the fellowship of the church live in a context we can hardly imagine. First, the sacrifice of the martyrs is understood to be part of the ongoing reality of Christ’s sacrifice, so they have some soteriological role through their intercessions. Secondly, the church to which these fallen Christians want to return has in it the living families of those who chose death over surrender to Rome’s demands. Asking these families to share in a eucharistic meal with those who chose to participate in these sacrifices raises both pastoral and theological problems. 

Finally, it appears that Cyprian is all about episcopal power and hierarchy. His solution to the problem can seem like a naked power grab that strengthens an emerging hierarchy. This rubs hard against those of us who resist hierarchy and believe in empowering local congregations and pastors. It would never occur to Cyprian that an individual priest could or should make decisions about the principles governing participation on the eucharistic table that unites Christ’s church with the saints and martyrs in heaven. Indeed, he punished priests who disobeyed his command in exactly this area. 

Why this apparently arcane history? Because in our world there are churches that share both the situation and worldview of the 3rd century Christian church. We modern Christians are quite willing to place Cyprian’s work in its historical / cultural context (a product of our enlightenment discovery of history). We are willing to try and understand Cyprian rather than just judge him. 

But are we are willing to see that our fellow Christians in the 21st century, including some of those living in the United States, share with Cyprian a worldview and set of problems related to inclusion and exclusion around fellowship and leadership? 

United Methodists who find the language of miracle and judgement strange must understand that some of their fellow Christians live more in Cyprian’s world than theirs. Those who find language of purity repellant must understand its importance for their fellow Christians. Those who have never lived in the shadow of life and death persecution must understand those who do. And those who live in a complacent expectation of universal salvation must understand those who live in the fear of hell while dependent on the efficacy of the sacramental medicine of redemption.

The same Enlightenment that alerted us to cultural change over time also burdened us with the illusion of a contemporary universalism. We humans have different understandings of what it means to be human, whether as individuals, within society, within the natural world, or in relationship with the Divine. And those cultural divides also divide Christians and always have. We do not, sorry Belenda Carlisle, want the same things or dream the same dreams. And the naive claim that we do isn’t universalism, its just imperialism. 

That which is universal is always and everwhere transcendent in both space and time (assuming these terms have any meaning in your metaphysics.) We humans can neither create nor define the universal. All we can do is engage in a dialogue that draws us together in common human tasks for whatever common good we can agree on. And learn to respect others, knowing we have no capacity to judge.