dis·so·lu·tion: noun
the action, or process of dissolving or being dissolved.
Disintegration; decomposition.
Matthew Shardlake is an unassuming chap who works as a lawyer in London. He's been asked to investigate a murder in a monastery that is having to close its doors. Entering into the world of a closed and secretive community, Shardlake is neither charming nor swashbuckling. But thorough, thoughtful, and resourceful, is he.
Oh, and there's something else that you should know about Master Shardlake. He's completely and thoroughly fiction. He is the protagonist in a book series by C.J. Sansom. In his work of historical fiction, Shardlake works for Oliver Cromwell and is an agent for the Crown in 16th century England. It is the time of the English Reformation, and everything is unsettled, and the future is uncertain.
Samson's clever murder mystery's backdrop is the shifting realities of the Church, faith, and political power in 16th century Europe. Led by reformers like Luther and Calvin, the reformation was seeking to combat a corrupt church system. The Roman Catholic Church is reeling from controversy and near-certain schism. You may recall that England's King Henry VIII jumped into the reformation-fray by naming himself the head of the Church when fidelity to his wife (okay, wives) became a bridge too far. The upshot of this religious and political upheaval? The people were fractured and grieving what they had lost.
In C.J. Sansom's book, Dissolution, King Henry VIII is closing the Roman Catholic monasteries throughout England. The grief that these communities feel is real as the reformers are abolishing the Catholic masses, their cherished Latin liturgies, and the Church's ornate iconography.
Students of history will remember that this moment in the English reformation represented but one slice of the greater sorrow. In the span of several decades, England would transition violently from Roman Catholicism to the Church of King Henry VIII. It would then swing dramatically toward Queen Mary's Catholic Church, followed by another seismic shift to Elizabeth's Church that sought a middle way.
Can you imagine the turmoil and whiplash this would have elicited? Can you picture the grief that the faithful must have experienced with so many changes to their churches and to the faith that they practiced? Can you get a sense of the competing agendas, the distrust, the suspicions, and the false righteousness of the age?
Something tells me that you can.
Sansom's novel is titled 'Dissolution' because the story is set at a time when relationships, institutions, and traditions were all dissolving. As his story reaches its climax, Master Shardlake makes this evocative claim:
"'There is nowhere safe in the world now, no thing certain…Perhaps we are all a little mad. The Bible says God made man in his image, but I think we make and remake him, in whatever image happens to suit our shifting needs. I wonder if he knows or cares. All is dissolving…all is dissolution.'"
It sounds utterly hopeless. In fact, I think it's good news.
First, we are not the first to feel the way we do right now. The 21st century does not have a monopoly on decline. The dissolution of things that we once valued and cherished is not the sole property of our current age. No, God's people have been enduring these types of changes for centuries. We should not be surprised when we do, too.
Second, the griefs that we are experiencing today—like the grief evidenced during the English Reformation—are real and should be taken seriously. It is wise of us to be mindful of the sorrows we have been carrying these last weeks and months and be gentle with ourselves and others. Being aware of the stages of grief that we may be going through helps us respond to the world around us with loving-kindness. These grief stages—including shock, denial, bargaining, anger, and sadness—are experienced when something is dissolving. If we do not lament our losses, we will pay them forward to others with misplaced violence.
Third, we must remember that grief is not our forever reality and that God redeems moments of despair. The presence and truth of Jesus is proof that God is bringing life from death. "See, I am making all things new." (Revelation 21:5)
The story of the English reformation—as with other reformations—is that God works for good amid uncertainty and dissolution. In the wake of the changes that occurred in 16th century England, the Church of England would bring stability and vitality to the faithful. In time, both the Methodist and Baptist traditions would emerge as fruit from yet another episode of discontent.
The Good News of the Gospel is that the old must pass away so that something new can be birthed. "So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!" (2 Corinthians 5:17) We can experience life from death, good from evil, and light from darkness because of Jesus.
We are living at a time of great change and through significant moments of dissolution. And yet, God wastes nothing in our lives and in this world. God's redemptive, reforming power is the source of our hope, not the seeds of our despair. Perhaps our Presbyterian brothers and sisters have it right when they say, "The Church reformed is always reforming."
Our story is less about dissolution, and more about reformation.