Mary Zeiss Stange, a professor of women’s studies and religion at Skidmore College in New York, thinks so.
Lutheran anti-gay activists routinely, and correctly, point out that Luther had plenty of bad things to say about the scourge of “Sodomites” in 16th century Germany. Like his role model Paul, Luther was a product of the social prejudices of his time and culture: a time when the concepts of homosexuality as an “orientation” or a “lifestyle” were still unheard of. But would the man whose break from Roman Catholicism involved a revolutionary rethinking of the role of sexuality in human relationships take such a negative view of homosexuality today? Most probably, given the way his theological mind worked, he would not.
Dr. Beckwith’s resignation as President and subsequent withdrawal from membership [is] appropriate in light of the purpose and doctrinal basis of the Evangelical Theological Society and in light of the requirements of wholehearted confessional agreement with the Roman Catholic Church.
The work of the Evangelical Theological Society as a scholarly forum proceeds on the basis that “the Bible alone and the Bible in its entirety, is the Word of God written and is therefore inerrant in the autographs.” This affirmation, together with the statement on the Trinity, forms the basis for membership in the ETS to which all members annually subscribe in writing. Confessional Catholicism, as defined by the Roman Catholic Church’s declarations from the Council of Trent to Vatican II, sets forth a more expansive view of verbal, infallible revelation.
Specifically, it posits a larger canon of Scripture than that recognized by evangelical Protestants, including in its canon several writings from the Apocrypha. It also extends the quality of infallibility to certain expressions of church dogma issued by the Magisterium (the teaching office of the Roman Catholic Church), as well as certain pronouncements of the pope, which are delivered ex cathedra, such as doctrines about the immaculate conception and assumption of Mary.
We recognize the right of Roman Catholic theologians to do their theological work on the basis of all the authorities they consider to be revelatory and infallible, even as we wholeheartedly affirm the distinctive contribution and convictional necessity of the work of the Evangelical Theological Society on the basis of the “Bible alone and the Bible in its entirety” as “the Word of God written and . . . inerrant.”
Without a doubt the wording of the statement is not as clear as it could be, but since meaning is determined by context and intent, the precise wording is not the final issue on the matter. I ran into this when pursuing church membership at the church where we attend. I felt that I could possibly affirm the wording of the statement of faith on eschatology (when I interpreted it according to my understanding), but I could not in good conscience affirm it in light of the clear intent of its authors.
Francis Beckwith, who just days ago became a Roman Catholic and resigned as President of ETS and as a member of the executive committee, initially stated that he would continue as a member of ETS:
Because I can in good conscience, as a Catholic, affirm the ETS doctrinal statement, I do not intend to resign as a member of ETS.
Last night, however, he decided that it would be in the best interest of the body of Christ to resign.
It is with deep regret that about an hour ago I tendered my resignation as a member of ETS.
Although I firmly believe that I can sign the ETS doctrinal statement in good conscience, my high-profile presence in ETS will likely result in the sort of public conflict that occurred during the debate over the openness view of God and the attempt on the part of some members to oust believers in that view. Because, as I noted in my prior posting on this matter, that I deeply desire a public conversation among Christians about the relationship between Evangelicalism and the Great Tradition, a public debate about my membership status, with all the rancor and stress that typically goes with such disputes, would preempt and poison that important conversation. For this reason, I am resigning as a member of ETS.
On Saturday, April 28, 2007, I received the sacrament of Confession. The next day I was publicly received back into the Catholic Church at 11 am Mass at St. Joseph’s Catholic Church in Waco, Texas. My wife, standing beside me, was accepted as a catechumen.
Dr. Beckwith has since resigned as President of ETS.
Because I can in good conscience, as a Catholic, affirm the ETS doctrinal statement, I do not intend to resign as a member of ETS. [Update: Dr. Beckwith has now also resigned from being a member of ETS.]
. . .
I intended to remain as ETS president until my term expires in November, but not to accept a nomination for a four-year at-large appointment to the executive committee after the end of my term.
. . .
As I have already stated, my decision was based on a cluster of goods that I thought would be best protected by my completing my tenure and then permanently moving off the executive committee. However, given the immense public attention and commentary that my reception into the Church has provoked, I no longer think that it is possible for ETS to conduct its business and its meetings in a fashion that advances the Gospel of Christ as long as I remain as its president. I now believe that my continued presence as president of ETS will serve the very harms that I had originally thought that my retention would avoid. For this reason, effective May 5, 2007, I resign as both President of the Evangelical Theological Society and a member of its executive committee.
Dr. Beckwith explains his reasons for returning to Rome in this paragraph:
I would have never predicted that I would return to the Church, for there seemed to me too many theological and ecclesiastical issues that appeared insurmountable. However, in January, at the suggestion of a dear friend, I began reading the Early Church Fathers as well as some of the more sophisticated works on justification by Catholic authors. I became convinced that the Early Church is more Catholic than Protestant and that the Catholic view of justification, correctly understood, is biblically and historically defensible. Even though I also believe that the Reformed view is biblically and historically defensible, I think the Catholic view has more explanatory power to account for both all the biblical texts on justification as well as the church’s historical understanding of salvation prior to the Reformation all the way back to the ancient church of the first few centuries. Moreover, much of what I have taken for granted as a Protestant—e.g., the catholic creeds, the doctrines of the Trinity and the Incarnation, the Christian understanding of man, and the canon of Scripture—is the result of a Church that made judgments about these matters and on which non-Catholics, including Evangelicals, have declared and grounded their Christian orthodoxy in a world hostile to it. Given these considerations, I thought it wise for me to err on the side of the Church with historical and theological continuity with the first generations of Christians that followed Christ’s Apostles.
By tracing the controversies, we can learn how and why the creedal formulations of these doctrines are important.
The pre-Constantinian context of much patristic theology offers a paradigm of how Christians can operate as a minority in a hostile or indifferent society.
The very alien nature of the world in which the Fathers operated challenges us to think more critically about ourselves in our own context.
As Protestants, we cannot claim to understand the historical development of our own tradition unless we come to terms with patristic theology.
Had a good instance of the benefit of breaking children’s wills betimes. Last night, going between decks (as I do every night) to visit the sick and to examine my people, I asked one of the women to bid her little boy say his prayers. She answered his elder sister would, but she could not make him. Upon this I bid the child kneel down before me, but he would not till I took hold of his two feet and forced him down. I then bid him say the Lord’s prayer (being informed by his mother he could say it if he would), but he obstinately refused, till at last, after I had given him several blows, he said his prayer as well as could be expected and I gave him some figs for a reward.
Whitefield was an incredibly godly man used greatly by the Lord, but here’s my advice: Don’t try this at home (or anywhere else for that matter).
Mary Zeiss Stange, a professor of women’s studies and religion at Skidmore College in New York, thinks so..
Francis J. Beckwith
There have been several recent appeals at 
