I have no problem with being called a “Protestant”…or “Friend” or “Quaker” or “Christian”…what someone else calls me and ascribes a definition to it makes no real difference to me…only to them…I am known to One by a Name He provides…that’s good enough for me.
If you wish to define “Protestant” and “protesting Roman Catholci orthodoxy”…I cool with it…your definition about "Protestants’ simply do not impact our lives in Christ…but it may impact yours in a very profound way on how you view your brothers and sisters in Christ…even though according to your tradition they are “imperfectly joined” to your faith tradition.
Peace to you friend.
Oh no. Protestantism does not impact my life. When I was a child it did, back in the days when the KKK was still active around here. But not now.
How I see Protestants is not greatly different from the way I see Catholics. Some are good people, some aren’t. I will say that I am favorably impressed by the faith of some Fundamentalists. Not infrequently, I discuss religion with some of them. With the more mainline ones, less so. I am generally impressed with the way the Amish are very determined to live according to the precepts of their religion, and I really do believe they take care of their own, as their religion obliges them to do. I have never known a Quaker, but have no reason to think of them in any way different from other folks.
I will confess that I view at least some fundamentalist groups more favorably than I do some mainline ones, notwithstanding that the former vary a great deal more than do the latter. And, too, the old KKK wasn’t really composed of country Fundamentalists “back in the day”, at least not here. It was pretty much composed of mainline people, who didn’t think much better of country Fundamentalists than they did of Catholics.
I am not a very “ecumenical” sort of person, but I do serve a useful function to at least some Protestants at times. This is a largely rural, though fairly heavily populated one. When I am doing ranch work, I sometimes bring beer along to drink after a hot, heavy day. Local country Fundamentalists (mostly Baptists) tend to come along around that time. It’s something like the miracle of the loaves and fishes. Somehow, more beer always appears than what I brought. The country folk have often expressed that they like to drink with me because, being Catholic, I’m “safe”. I don’t care if they drink and won’t tell on them. The stricter ones don’t come to my place because they know I might drink, and so those who do come are safe from them as well.
I like doing it. Sometimes we discuss religion. It can be particularly poignant around dusk in the deep country. There really isn’t much disagreement between country Southern Fundamentalism and Catholicism. That “once saved, always saved” thing can be a big difference, but even among Baptists, not all believe in that. Some do, some don’t. Catholicism is, of course, much more detailed and, of course, there’s the matter of the nature of the Eucharist and, at a more profound level, of the Incarnation itself. But I don’t require them to be theologians any more than I require it of myself. I might have a lot more respect for those peoples’ faith than you might think.
But I don’t have much use for the pushy versions of protestant evangelism or for historical revisionism, either one.
Being Catholic, I do believe in the “communion of saints”, and that it is not composed solely of Catholics. Sometimes when I am out in the country with my grandchildren, picking blackberries or whatever, we will pause to say prayers, even the rosary, for the Indians who once lived around here, and ask the prayers and blessings of the saints who were indisputably among them, pagans though they were. I did the same with my own children, and sometimes still do.
Maybe the above tells you something of how I see things.