In the most popular chapter in Augustine’s Confessions (VIII), Augustine relays what led him to his conversion. But before his hallowed moment under the fig tree, Augustine met with the local bishop, Simplicianus, to talk through his spiritual angst.
As Augustine asked questions, the older bishop shared the story of how the celebrity intellectual, Victorinus—whom Augustine had read and admired—was converted in his old age:
The story as Simplicianus told it to me was this. Victorinus was in the habit of reading holy scripture and intensively studying all the Christian writings, which he subjected to close scrutiny; and he would say to Simplicianus, not openly but in private, intimate conversation, “I am already a Christian, you know.” But the other always replied, “I will not believe that, nor count you among Christians, until I see you in Christ’s Church.” Victorinus would chaff him: “It’s the walls that make Christians, then?” He would often talk like this, claiming that he was a Christian. Simplicianus often responded in the same way, and Victorinus would frequently repeat his joke about walls.
Victorinus’ defense for why he didn’t need to become a part of the church sounds incredibly modern, does it not? “Do walls make Christians?” Why can’t I just have my personal, private faith? Who says I have to “institutionalize” my belief? There is a veneer of sense in the joke—we know that walking into a building doesn’t make you a Christian. But Simplicianus was wise and knew that when someone refuses to make their faith public they are like the man who refuses to marry his girlfriend. They may claim a high-minded freedom from tradition—why do we need a piece of paper to tell us we love each other?—but there is usually a more simple (and more selfish) reason at the heart of the matter: convenience.
For Victorinus, the real reason for pushing off joining the church was his fear of what others would think: “The fact was that he was sorely afraid of upsetting…his friends, fearing…the weight of their resentment.” Victorinus was famous for his defense of the pagan gods and was highly esteemed by the upper-crust of his day. Publicly joining the church would not only be a socially backwards move, but would also mean publicly acknowledging that his previous beliefs were wrong—that his friends were wrong. That would cost a lot.
But later he drank in courage from his avid reading and came to fear that he might be disowned by Christ before his holy angels if he feared to confess him before men and women…Accordingly he threw off the shamefacedness provoked by vanity and became modest in the face of truth: suddenly and without warning he said to Simplicianus, who told this tale, “Let us go to church: I want to become a Christian.” Hardly able to contain his joy, Simplicianus went with him. He was initiated into the first stage of the catechumenate, and not long afterward he gave in his name, asking for rebirth in baptism. Rome stood amazed, while the Church was jubilant.
Victorinus was fearful of Jesus’ words: “For whoever is ashamed of me and of my words, of him will the Son of Man be ashamed when he comes in his glory and the glory of the Father and of the holy angels,” (Luke 9:26). You cannot both believe in Jesus and remain publicly embarrassed of Him; you cannot “love the glory that comes from man” while also loving “the glory that comes from God,” (John 12:42-43).
There may be other reasons besides embarrassment for why someone thinks they can maintain a private “faith.” Perhaps you feel content at your current spiritual pace; maybe your life feels so busy that joining a community of faith feels inconvenient; maybe you feel so socially awkward that relationships or social settings feel difficult. Nevertheless, God has decreed that it is impossible to be reconciled to Him without also being reconciled to the Church (Eph 2:11-22; 1 John 4:20-5:1; 1 Cor 12:12-27). The earlier Church Father, Cyprian, wrote: “You cannot know God as Father without knowing Church as Mother.” The means by which God matures and grows Christians is the community of the Church (Eph 4:11-16).
But, in addition to all of that, consider the joy you miss out on by remaining aloof from God’s people. Read of the celebration that takes place when the old pagan, Victorinus, comes to be baptized:
Eventually the time came for him to make his profession of faith…As he climbed up to repeat the Creed they all shouted his name to one another in a clamorous outburst of thanksgiving—everyone who knew him, that is; and was there anyone present who did not? Then in more subdued tones the word passed from joyful mouth to joyful mouth among them all: “Victorinus, Victorinus!” Spontaneous was their shout of delight as they saw him, and spontaneous their attentive silence to hear him. With magnificent confidence he proclaimed the true faith, and all the people longed to clasp him tenderly to their hearts. And so they did, by loving him and rejoicing with him, for those affections were like clasping hands.
Joy reaches its consummation when it is shared.
Marc Sims 