Disagreeing Well: How Franciscan Encounter and Anglican Comprehensiveness Reshape the Grammar of Theological Conflict
There is a particular kind of exhaustion that settles over American Christians who have watched theological debate degrade, year by year, into something closer to warfare. Social media timelines fill with denunciations. Pulpits become platforms for grievance. Synods that once modeled deliberative charity now produce schisms announced in press releases. The vocabulary of disagreement has narrowed considerably: one is either an ally or an apostate, a fellow traveler or an enemy of the faith. Very little space remains for the slower, more demanding work of genuine theological engagement.
It is precisely into this atmosphere that the convergent wisdom of the Franciscan and Anglican traditions speaks — not with easy reassurance, but with a counter-cultural insistence that how we disagree is itself a theological act.
Francis and the Sultan: A Forgotten Paradigm
In the summer of 1219, Francis of Assisi crossed military lines during the Fifth Crusade and presented himself before Sultan Malik al-Kamil of Egypt. The encounter is remarkable on multiple levels, not least because Francis arrived not to debate or to defeat, but to witness — and, crucially, to listen. He carried with him no weapon save the conviction that Christ was somehow already present in the person before him, awaiting recognition.
Chroniclers differ on what precisely was said. What they agree upon is that both men emerged from the conversation changed, and that neither the Sultan nor Francis abandoned his own convictions as a result. The meeting was not a theological draw, nor a polite avoidance of hard questions. It was, by all accounts, a genuine encounter — substantive, honest, and conducted without contempt.
This episode has been romanticized and sometimes distorted in popular retellings. But its structural logic deserves serious attention. Francis operated from a theological anthropology that located the image of God — the imago Dei — not merely in those who shared his creed, but in the very humanity of the other. To approach another person with contempt, in the Franciscan understanding, is to risk contemning Christ himself. This is not sentimentalism. It is a rigorous theological claim with practical consequences for how one enters disagreement.
Anglicanism's Uncomfortable Gift: The Via Media as Method
The Anglican tradition arrived at its own hard-won understanding of theological disagreement through rather less mystical means. Born in the crucible of Reformation-era England, Anglicanism was forced almost immediately to navigate between Roman Catholic sacramental theology and Reformed Protestant doctrine, between episcopal governance and presbyterian instinct, between the authority of Scripture and the weight of tradition. The via media — the middle way — was not originally a comfortable compromise. It was a disciplined refusal to resolve every tension prematurely.
Richard Hooker, whose Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity remains among the most sophisticated defenses of Anglican method, argued that reason, scripture, and tradition must be held in creative tension rather than arranged in a simple hierarchy. His arguments were written against real opponents — Puritan reformers who found his positions insufficiently zealous — and yet Hooker engaged those opponents with a care that modern readers can find almost disorienting. He took their arguments seriously. He granted where they were correct. He disagreed where he believed they erred, but he did not question their standing before God.
This is Anglicanism's uncomfortable gift to American Christianity: not a theology of agreement, but a theology of method — a conviction that the manner of deliberation is inseparable from its content.
Where the Two Traditions Converge
Placed alongside one another, these two streams of thought produce something genuinely distinctive. The Franciscan insists that the person across the table bears the face of Christ; the Anglican insists that the argument across the table deserves genuine engagement. Together, they construct what might be called a grammar of holy disagreement — a set of practices and dispositions that make substantive theological conflict possible without reducing it to enmity.
Several principles emerge from this convergence.
Presence before position. Francis's instinct to encounter the person before adjudicating the argument offers a corrective to the tendency — acute in digital discourse — to engage with a caricature rather than a human being. This does not mean suppressing disagreement. It means ensuring that disagreement is directed at a real interlocutor, not a constructed opponent.
Comprehensiveness as discipline, not indifference. Anglican comprehensiveness is frequently misread as a kind of theological shrug — an unwillingness to commit. The tradition's better practitioners understood it differently: as a demanding commitment to hold multiple serious perspectives in view simultaneously, resisting the comfort of premature resolution. This is intellectually costly. It requires genuine familiarity with positions one does not share.
Humility about one's own certainties. Francis wore his poverty as a spiritual practice, a daily reminder that he possessed nothing that was not gift. Anglicanism's appeal to reason carries within it an implicit acknowledgment that human understanding is partial and provisional. Both traditions, from different angles, resist the idolatry of one's own theological conclusions.
Practical Wisdom for Congregations in Conflict
American congregations navigating contemporary doctrinal divides — over questions of human sexuality, racial justice, liturgical form, or political witness — will not find in these traditions a shortcut to resolution. What they will find is a set of practices worth recovering.
Parishes might consider, for example, the deliberate cultivation of what some spiritual directors call listening circles — structured conversations in which participants are required to restate an opponent's position to that opponent's satisfaction before offering a rebuttal. This is not a novel invention; it draws on both the Franciscan tradition of fraternal correction and the Anglican practice of synodal deliberation. It is, however, counter-cultural enough in the present moment to feel almost radical.
Congregational leadership can model the distinction between disagreement and disrespect — naming it explicitly from the pulpit, demonstrating it in vestry meetings, and refusing to permit the language of contempt to go unchallenged in parish life. This is pastoral work, not merely procedural management.
Preachers might also recover the homiletical practice of engaging the strongest version of a dissenting view — what philosophers call the steelman — rather than the weakest. Francis did not approach the Sultan armed with a distorted account of Islam. Hooker did not argue against a strawman Puritanism. Both took seriously the best that their interlocutors had to offer, and their legacies are richer for it.
The Witness This Moment Requires
The American church does not suffer from a shortage of strong opinions. What it suffers from is a poverty of imagination about how those opinions might be held and expressed in ways that do not destroy the communities that contain them. Theological disagreement, practiced well, is not a threat to the Body of Christ. It is, in the Franciscan and Anglican understanding alike, one of the means by which that Body grows toward truth.
Francis crossed a battlefield to find Christ in a Sultan. Hooker wrote with painstaking care about those who considered him an enemy of reform. Neither man pretended the disagreements were small. Neither man allowed them to become an occasion for contempt.
The art of holy disagreement has not been lost. It has only been neglected. These two traditions, meeting in this particular moment, suggest it can be recovered — and that recovering it is not optional, but urgent.