The Council That Never Was – Volume II
Chapter 6: The Rise of Culture and the Death of Metaphysics
The council reconvened.
A new chamber unfolded—this time layered with shifting images of modernity: factories, megacities, megachurches, riots, digital screens, cathedrals in ruin, and a stained-glass Christ pixelated by culture.
Friedrich Schleiermacher stepped forward, arms open like a philosopher addressing a nation:
“We cannot speak to this age using the tongues of the ancients. The heart—the feeling of absolute dependence—is where God still speaks. Doctrine must bow to experience.”
A sudden movement cut the silence. Karl Barth, again on his feet:
“No, Schleiermacher! That path leads to man deifying himself. When God becomes a projection of our yearning, theology becomes psychology in liturgical robes.”
Pascal chuckled quietly from the shadows:
“Both of you forget: man is neither angel nor beast—but he who would be an angel becomes a beast.”
Hans Urs von Balthasar raised his voice—firm yet lyrical:
“The Church must offer more than ideas or feelings. She must offer beauty. The splendour of truth, the drama of salvation. If the world is drawn to spectacle, let it behold the Cross as the highest theatre.”
Bonhoeffer, calm and restrained, finally spoke:
“Then let our beauty be costly. Let the Church be visible in obedience—even if it must die again in every generation.”
Chapter 7: The Return of the Heresies
A cloaked figure entered—a symbol, not a man. The Spirit of Heresy, wearing masks from across time: Arianism, Gnosticism, Marcionism, Deism, Nationalism, Prosperity Gospel.
He spoke in a thousand tongues:
“You silenced me once. But I return under new names—Progress, Freedom, Identity, Nation, Profit. I no longer deny Christ—I redefine Him.”
Theologians stirred.
Irenaeus stood boldly:
“You are the same deceiver I fought in Gaul. Christ recapitulates all of humanity—not fragments, not fantasies.”
Athanasius stepped beside him:
“And still I will say it: the Word became flesh—not idea, not symbol, but flesh. If He was not truly God, He cannot save. If He was not truly man, He did not save.”
Cyril of Alexandria narrowed his gaze:
“Your new heresies fracture Christ—between justice and mercy, truth and love, humanity and divinity.”
Anselm added, with careful conviction:
“Without satisfaction, there is no reconciliation.”
Gutiérrez, stepping forward with a new fire in his eyes:
“But without justice, there is no salvation lived.”
The Spirit of Heresy only smiled:
“And so you will continue to fight. But I do not need to win—I only need you to disagree.”
And with that, he vanished, leaving only a trail of smoke spelling the word: Relativism.
Chapter 8: Judging the Church
Suddenly, the walls of the chamber turned mirror-like.
Each theologian saw his own tradition: his doctrines institutionalised, systematised, politicised—or neglected.
Calvin saw Geneva turn into dogma without love.
Luther saw churches of protest splintering endlessly.
Aquinas saw scholasticism frozen, weaponised by those who never prayed.
Wesley saw fervour become moralism.
Barth saw Word replaced by words.
Gutiérrez saw revolution without Christ.
Balthasar saw mystery mocked by marketing.
Maximus the Confessor knelt.
“Lord, even our orthodoxy has failed You.”
Christ appeared again—not as a judge, but as the Lamb.
“My Body is broken—and you are that Body. Yet I am not divided.”
Chapter 9: The Third Day
Moltmann rose.
“The Crucified is not the end. The Spirit speaks from the future. Hope is not fantasy—it is the assurance that the tomb is empty, and history still breathes.”
Gutiérrez joined him:
“Then theology must live among the poor—not in ivory towers. Hope must have hands.”
Bonhoeffer added:
“And a cross.”
Schleiermacher whispered:
“And perhaps a new language.”
Balthasar:
“And art.”
Luther:
“And a hammer.”
Calvin:
“And the Scriptures.”
Athanasius:
“And truth.”
Augustine:
“And love.”
Epilogue: The Final Communion
Theologians from across centuries stood not in debate, but in adoration.
Not one had the final word.
Not one had the full light.
But all knelt before the Word made flesh—who alone is Light, Truth, and Life.
They broke bread once more.
And this time, it was not debate.
It was worship.