The Faith is not Decided by Votes

An Interview with His Eminence Raymond Cardinal Burke

by

Alessandro Gnocci

His Eminence Raymond Cardinal Burke

Cardinal Raymond Burke pleases the world very little - or not at all. And, if possible, he pleases the Church which pleases the world even less. Then again, the 66 year-old American from Richland Center, Wisconsin does everything to provide a Catholic jolt to the apathy-prone Christian conscience: he takes part in the March for Life; he says that politicians who support abortion legislation should be denied Communion; he criticizes the rapid advance of the homo-agenda; he lets Pope Francis know that the defense of non-negotiable values is not some fashion subject to pontifical whims; he supports the traditional liturgy. He recently contributed to the anthology Remaining in the Truth of Christ: Marriage and Communion in the Catholic Church (Ignatius Press, 2014), written in defiance of the "merciful opening" proposed by Cardinal Kasper of Communion to the divorced and remarried. No wonder, then, that Bergoglio's planned reshuffling of the Curia provides for the Cardinal to be removed from his position as Prefect of the Apostolic Signatura and exiled to the office of Cardinal Patron of the Sovereign Order of Malta. In the meantime, however, this fine canonist and son of rural America has assumed the role of the opposition - one might say, the katechon - at the Synod on the Family against the revolution attributed to and never denied by the mens papale. As it says in the old polyglot Bible, which lays on the lectern of his study, opened to Ecclesiates: "All things have their season (...) a time to keep silence, and a time to speak."

Q: What do you see behind the media fog which surrounds the Synod?

A worrying tendency is becoming visible, because some are arguing for the possibility of adopting a practice which deviates from the truth of the Faith. Although it should be obvious that one cannot proceed in this manner, many encourage, for example, dangerous openings on the issue of Communion for the divorced and remarried. I do not see how one could reconcile the irreformable concept of the indissolubility of marriage with the possibility of admitting to Communion those who live in irregular situations. This directly challenges the words of Our Lord when He taught that a man who divorces his wife and marries another woman commits adultery.

Q: According to the reformers, that teaching is "too hard."

They forget that Our Lord assures the help of grace to those who are called to marriage. This does not mean that there will be no difficulties or suffering, but that there will always be divine assistance to those who remain faithful to the end.

Q: It seems that yours is a minority position....

A few days ago, I saw a news report in which Cardinal Kasper said that we're 'heading in the right direction towards an opening.' In short, the 5.7 million Italians who watched the report formed the impression that the entire Synod is moving in this direction and that the Church is getting ready to change her doctrine on marriage. This, however, is simply impossible. Many bishops intervened to say that changes cannot be admitted.

Q: But this is not apparent from the daily briefings of the Vatican Press Office. This was also criticized by Cardinal Müller.

I do not know how the briefing was conceived, but it seems to me that something is not working properly if the information is manipulated so as to highlight only one opinion instead of giving a faithful report of the different positions presented. This worries me a great deal, because many bishops do not accept the notion of an opening, but only a few are aware of this. One hears only of the 'necessity' of the Church 'opening herself to the world,' as was announced by Cardinal Kasper in February. In fact, his position on the issues of family and the Communion of the divorced and remarried is nothing new; it was already being discussed thirty years ago. Since February, it has gained strength and, regrettably has been allowed to spread. But this must stop, because it is causing serious harm to the Faith. Bishops and priests are telling me that many divorced and remarried individuals now want to be permitted to receive Communion, because 'that's what Pope Francis wants.' On the contrary, however, I note that he has not commented on the matter.

Q: But it seems obvious that Cardinal Kasper and those in line with him speak with the support of the Pope.

Apparently, yes. The Holy Father appointed Cardinal Kasper to the Synod and has let the debate continue along this line. But, as another cardinal noted, the Pope has not spoken. I'm waiting for his comments, which can only be in continuity with the teaching of the Church throughout its history. It is a teaching which has not changed, because it cannot change.

Q: Some prelates who support the traditional teaching say that, if the Pope were to make changes, they would accept them. Isn't this a contradiction?

Yes, this is a contradiction, because the Pope is the Vicar of Christ on earth and thus the first servant of the truth of the Faith. Knowing the teaching of Christ, I do not see how we can deviate from this teaching with a doctrinal statement or a pastoral praxis which ignores the truth.

Q: Doesn't the stress put by the Pope on mercy as the most important - if not the only - guiding principle of the Church serve to sustain the illusion that one can engage in a pastoral praxis detached from doctrine?

It spreads the idea that there can be a merciful Church which does not care for the truth. I am deeply offended by the notion that the bishops and priests have been unmerciful until now. I grew up in a rural part of the U.S. and remember from my childhood that, in our parish, there was a couple who lived on a neighboring farm and who always came to our church for Mass, but never received Communion. When I was older, I asked my father why this was, and he explained to me, very naturally, that they lived in an irregular situation and accepted that they could not receive Communion. The parish priest was very kind to them, very merciful, and applied that mercy in his work so that the couple could return to a life in harmony with the Catholic Faith. Without truth, there can be no mercy. My parents taught me that, because we love the sinner, we must hate the sin and do everything to free them from the evil in which they live.

Q: In your study, there is a statue of the Most Sacred Heart. In your chapel, there is another image of the Most Sacred Heart over the altar. Your episcopal motto is Secundum Cor Tuum ("According to Your Heart"). A bishop can, then, unite mercy and doctrine....

Yes, it is at the inexhaustible and unremitting source of truth and love - that is, the glorious pierced Heart of Jesus - that the priest finds the wisdom and strength to lead his flock in truth and charity. The Curé of Ars called priests to the love of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus. The priest who is united to the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus will not succumb to the temptation to tell the flock anything other than the words of Christ as unfailingly transmitted to us by the Church. He will not succumb to the temptation to replace the words of sound doctrine with a language which is confused and leads easily into error.

Q: But the reformers maintain that, for the Church, charity means to chase after the world.

This is the cornerstone of the arguments used by those who want to change doctrine or discipline. I am very concerned. It is said that the times have changed so much that we can no longer speak of natural law, of the indissolubility of marriage. But man has not changed; he continues to be just as God created him. Of course, the world has become secularized, but this is only one more reason to clearly and forcefully to pronounce the truth. This is our duty, but in order to carry it out, one must - as John Paul II in Evangelium vitae teaches - call things by their names. We cannot resort to - at best - ambiguous language just to please the world.

Q: Clarity does not appear to be a priority for the reformers, as, for example, they do not see any contradiction in their position that the divorced and remarried can be admitted to Communion on the condition that they recognize the indissolubility of marriage. 

When someone sincerely maintains the indissolubility of marriage, then he either clarifies the irregular situation in which he finds himself, or he abstains from Communion. There is no third option.

Q: Not even the so-called "Orthodox divorce"?

The Orthodox practice of oikonomia or the second or third 'penitentiary marriage' is both historically and presently very complex. In any case, the Catholic Church, which has known of this practice for centuries, has never adopted it by virtue of the words spoken by Our Lord in the Gospel according to St. Matthew.

Q: Don't you think that, if this opening were to be granted, many others would follow?

Certainly. Now they are saying that it would only be allowed in certain cases. One who knows people even a little knows that, if you acquiesce in one case, you will ultimately acquiesce in the other cases as well. If you recognize as lawful the union between the divorced and remarried, the door will be opened to all unions which are not in accordance with the law of God, because the conceptual bulwark which defends sound doctrine and the good pastoral praxis resulting from it will be eliminated.

Q: The reformers often speak of a Jesus who is willing to tolerate sin in order to approach people. Is this accurate?

Such a Jesus is a concoction with no basis in the Gospels. Just consider His clash with the world as recounted in the Gospel of St. John. Jesus was the greatest opponent of His age and remains so today. I recall what He said to the woman guilty of adultery: "Neither will I condemn thee. Go, and now sin no more."

Q: Admission of the divorced and remarried undermines not only the Sacrament of Matrimony, but also that of the Eucharist. Is this not an error which strikes at the heart of the Church?

In the First Epistle to the Corinthians, chapter 11, St. Paul teaches that he who receives the Eucharist in a state of sin eats his own condemnation. Access to the Eucharist means to be in communion with Christ, to be conform to Him. Many oppose the notion that the Eucharist is the 'sacrament of the perfect,' but this is a false argument. No man is perfect, and the Eucharist is the sacrament of those who are fighting to be perfect, as Jesus Himself demands: "be you therefore perfect, as also your heavenly Father is perfect." Even he who struggles to attain perfection certainly sins, and when he finds himself in a state of mortal sin, he may not receive Communion. In order to do so, he must confess his sins, repent of them and have the firm purpose of never committing them again. This applies to everyone, including the divorced and remarried.

Q: Today, reception of the Eucharist is barely seen as a sacramental act, but rather as a social practice. It no longer means communion with God, but acceptance by a community. Is not the root of the problem to be found here?

It is true that this Protestant notion is becoming prevalent. And that applies not merely to the divorced and remarried. One often hears that, at special events such as First Communion, Confirmation and Weddings, even non-Catholics are receiving Holy Communion. This, however - again - is against the Faith; it contradicts the very truth of the Eucharist.

Q: Instead of discussing these topics, what should the Synod be doing?

A Synod is not a democratic assembly where bishops gather to change Catholic doctrine according to majority opinion. I would like for it to become an opportunity to offer support to the pastors of all families who want the best experience of their faith and their vocation; to support those men and women who, despite many difficulties, do not want to break away from what the Gospel teaches. This should be a Synod on the family rather than one which loses itself in useless discussions on issues which are not open to discussion in an attempt to change a truth which cannot be changed. In my opinion, it would be better to remove these issues from the table because they are not viable. We should speak rather of how to help the faithful to live the truth of marriage. We should speak of the formation of children and young people who come to marriage without knowing the basics of the Faith and then fall at the first hurdle.

Q: The reformers are not considering those Catholics who have sacrificed to keep their family together, even under dramatic circumstances, instead of starting over?

Many people who have made this effort now ask me if they have it all wrong. They ask me if they have thrown away their lives making unnecessary sacrifices. This is not acceptable; it is a betrayal.

Q: Don't you think that the present crisis in morality is linked to the liturgical crisis?

Certainly. In the post-conciliar period, there has been a collapse in the life of the faith and in ecclesiastical discipline, made especially apparent by the liturgical crisis. The liturgy has become an anthropocentric activity, reflecting the ideas of man rather than God's right to be worshipped as He requests. From there it follows that, in the field of morality, attention is given almost exclusively to the needs and desires of men rather than to what the Creator has written in the hearts of all creatures. The lex orandi is always bound to the lex credendi. If man does not pray correctly, then he will not believe correctly and, thus, will not behave correctly. When I go to celebrate the traditional Mass, for example, I see so many beautiful young families with many children. I do not think that these are families without problems, but it is clear that they receive more strength to deal with them. All this must mean something. The liturgy is the most perfect expression, the most complete expression of our life in Christ, and when that diminishes or is betrayed, every aspect of the life of the faithful is wounded.

Q: What would you say to a Catholic pastor who feels lost among these winds of change?

The faithful must take heart, because Our Lord will never abandon His Church. Think of how Our Lord calmed the stormy sea, and His word to His disciples, "Why are you fearful, O ye of little faith?" If this period of confusion seems to jeopardize their faith, they must engage more actively in a truly Catholic life. But I realize that living during these times causes great suffering.

Q: It is difficult to avoid thinking of a chastisement.

I think of the same - first of all, for myself. If I am suffering for the current situation of the Church, I think Our Lord is telling me that I need to be purified. And I think that, if the suffering is so widespread, it indicates that the whole Church is in need of purification. This is due, not to a God who is just waiting to punish us, but to our sins. If we have, in any way, betrayed doctrine, morals or the liturgy, then suffering will necessarily follow, which will cleanse us, and lead us back to the straight and narrow path.

(Original)

Cardinal Dolan and the Dark Continent

His Eminence Timothy Cardinal Dolan
(Photo: Reuters)

Cardinal Archbishop Timothy M. Dolan of New York recently gave an interview which seems to have received relatively little notice - which is perfectly understandable given the current flurry of reports coming out of the Vatican. It contains, however, a stunningly candid admission on the part of the Cardinal which confirms what many have suspected for years: western prelates have lost the courage of their convictions.

Asked by Francis X. Rocca of Catholic News Service to relate his impression of the African bishops and their participation at the 2014 Synod on the Family, the Cardinal said:

The African bishops have a freshness and - it's a strange words to use, perhaps - an innocence when it comes to their biblical faith. Now, when I say "innocence," I mean these are people - we just had Archbishop Ignatius Kaigama of Jos; 186 of his churches have been torched by Boko Haram, so you're hardly talking about some guy in an ivory tower, you're talking about a bishop who has literally mopped up the blood of his people and bandaged their wounds. When he speaks, though, you can hear Irenaeus, you can hear Polycarp, you can hear Ignatius of Antioch - not just Ignatius of Jos - and that's how young they are: the Church in Africa is where the second and third generation of Christians were. They speak with heroism and conviction, and the rest of us sit up and take notice. We in the Church in Europe, and in North America, we suffer sometimes from lethargy, don't we? Not Africa! And, boy oh boy, can they speak and call us back to the roots of God's revelation, and they're not afraid to do it. And they're not afraid to lead us in an examination of conscience. One of the African bishops today said, "Be careful in the West. What do you import? Military arms? Contraception? Abortion? We don't need that. We don't want that. That's cultural imperialism." And when they speak with that vigor, wow! You can just see the rest of us in the hall turn around, and look, and listen. I found them to be very inspirational. 

The bishops of Africa are prophetic in reminding us that the role of the Church is to transform culture, not to be transformed by the culture. They are magnificent at that. And when you look at the churches in their nations, you see that's being done. I find that very moving. I'm afraid sometimes we in the West might say, "Oh, I guess we've got to dilute things, I guess we've got to capitulate. Obviously this teaching is being rejected. Oh my Lord, we're not popular." And the Africans say, "Well, you know what? We're not supposed to be! What we're supposed to do is propose the truth, and invite people, by the love and the joy in our lives, to embrace that truth. And take it from us, brothers: it works!" We know from the history of the Church that it works, and we know from the present of the Church that it works, because we see it in the people of Africa.

Now, it would be wonderful if this encounter with the genuine, living faith of the African bishops had a knock-on effect on the Cardinal and his work in the Archdiocese of New York. It would be wonderful if he would come to understand that there are scores of American Catholics, both in his own Archdiocese and broader afield, who have that very same faith, and want nothing more than for their prelates to support them in the exercise of that faith. Countless prayers would be answered if the Cardinal would awaken from his complacent slumber and recognize that he, too, is called to fight - and to sacrifice - for Christ's Church. I pray for the same, as should you, gentle reader.

But let's not allow our hopes to blind us to the reality of the situation. The fact that Cardinal Dolan and his confrères from the western hemisphere take exception to the conviction and clarity with which the African bishops defend orthodoxy speaks volumes. What are we to make of the College when the bishop who vigorously defends the Faith sets himself apart in doing so? Conspicuously absent from the Cardinal's résumé, despite his open admission that western prelates - and I see no reason to exempt Cardinal Dolan himself from the charge - have lost the courage of their convictions, is any trace of shame or regret in that fact. It's as if the orthodoxy of the African bishops is to be safely compartmentalized because of the recentness of their conversion and the severity of their situation - that is, their orthodoxy is to be understood - and excused - as a product of their specific situation, which is not unlike that of the Church Fathers with whom they are compared. For, take that very same orthodoxy out of the African context, and put in the West - where more souls are being lost to the ravages of the culture of death than Boko Haram could ever dream of - and it is disparaged from the highest positions as "self-absorbed Promethean Neo-Pelagianism."

No, it is highly unlikely that this brush with orthodoxy will inspire action in the West. More likely is that it will instead serve to reinforce the notion that the days of orthodoxy, while perhaps alive in the remotes of Africa, are well behind us here in the "developed" world, leading us to wonder: which is really the "Dark Continent"? 

Innocence

Innocence
(William-Adolphe Bouguereau)

by

Archbishop Alban Goodier, S.J.

If men are not agreed about the meaning and content of sin, they are at least agreed about its opposite. If they dispute about the mystery of evil, if they quarrel with themselves and with one another concerning wrong-doing and its cause, if they seek to elude its shame, if they make light of it, or excuse it, or deny it, at least they are complacent when they are found not guilty. They are unanimous in agreeing that innocence - I mean the real thing - has only one interpretation, and that it is altogether beautiful, admirable, lovable. It is true there are those who at times affect another manner. They talk of the necessity of gaining experience; they say that a man must not be a prig, or maudlin, or sentimental; they confound innocence with ignorance, simplicity with stupidity, and grow restless with any attempt at its excessive preservation. But when they talk like this, they need not be taken too seriously; it is the exterior manner only, it is not the language of the heart. A man may say that sin is a necessity; yet, if he is a man at all, and not one of those peculiar, drifting creatures that seem almost to have squandered away their manhood, he will pay a great price that his sons and daughters may be guarded from it. He may condone it to shield himself; he would be sorry to see the same defence urged by his wife or children. In his own soul he may be content to endure its tyranny; but a ruined son, a sinful daughter, is shame that breaks the heart; a sinless son, a spotless daughter, whatever else may or may not be said of either, is the glory of a parent's grey hairs.

So let us say no more of these misunderstandings, which no man who is a man would have us take too much in earnest. For, indeed, what is there in the world more beautiful than innocence? It is the fascination of a child, which is innocent and cannot help it; it is more fascinating still in an understanding girl or boy; in a grown-up man or woman it is a pearl beyond all price. Men recognize it when they meet it, they hardly know how, and look back at it when it has passed them. Women know it by a kind of instinct, as if its possession were the object of their lives. The world itself, blind and soiled and sodden as it is, yet knows innocence when it finds it, and either bows before it and suffers it to pass by unscathed, or else, if in its devilish mood, lays itself out to despoil it; in either case, it sets up its external signs as the ideals and models for a man to cultivate. The open eye that has no furtive glances, the ringing laugh that has no hollowness, the responsive word that has no restrictions, the face that is all frank, the hand that is all free, the heart that has no hiding-places, these are some of the witnesses of innocence, telling, when they are quite true, more eloquently than words can tell, the inward beauty and lovableness of this human nature that is ours.

Nor is innocence only a thing beautiful, a delicate treasure to be kept safe from harm. It is also a thing secure and strong. Innocence will walk through fire and will not burn; it will live amid refuse and will not be stained; it will venture where greater so-called knowledge, greater so-called experience, would not wisely dare, and will come away unscathed. It is its own defence; it believes, because itself is true, and is believed in return; it trusts, because it has not in itself the greatest source of doubt, and is trusted; it shows in itself human nature at its best, and receives in return the best and the worst of human nature. When, again, a noble deed is to be done, innocence is best capable of doing it. In face of death, nothing is so fearless as the innocent hand and the heart that is clean; in the grip of physical torture, under the weight of heavy trial, at times when endurance is taxed to the extreme, there is none pales less than the nature that is innocent. Or when action is called for; if one is bidden to do anything, great or small, for God or for man, to drag a poor soul out of the mire, to lift up one's fellow-men from their dead selves to higher things, to teach or to preach, to instruct or to counsel, to serve or to command, innocence will go where guilt may not venture, innocence will shy at no shadow where guilt will conjure up monsters, innocence will selflessly act and carry through where guilt will hang its head in confusion; while guilt will be content with a partial gain, innocence will bear all before it. Give me the most loathsome of slum work to be done; give me an innocent and a guilty soul with which to do it; I know which I will choose. Give me children, old or young, to be influenced; I know which will succeed. Give me an honour to be maintained, even a nation to be defended; I know which will be the better champion. Innocence is straight, innocence is single-minded, innocence is unselfish; it knows no subterfuges; it is generous, it is considerate, it is true ; it can be relied upon at times and in places where all else trembles and totters. No wonder men who understand bow down before it in compelled reverence. No wonder they love it, no wonder they long to possess it, if not in themselves, at least in another that they can call their own; when they see its owner robbed and despoiled, no wonder their gorge rises in indignation. This, the fact that at least he knows and is drawn by the fascination of innocence, is the truest part of man, the truest and the best; the part that lets us understand why it is that, in spite of his meanness and infidelity, he is still beloved of God, and an object of keen interest to God's angels.

Yes, to be innocent is worth while, to be free from stain of any sort, even, if it must be, at the cost of a little worldly gain, a little worldly knowledge, a little worldly honour, a little worldly satisfaction. Gain cannot effect what I am; knowledge is at best an accretion to myself; honour is seldom the whole truth; satisfaction comes and goes like a dream; but innocence is that which I am, more intimately than the marrow of my bones, as the transparency of glass is the very glass itself. Men honour great deeds done, but it is not the deed so much as its doer that they mean to extol, and it is only by the deed that they know him. Truth can reach farther down; it honours a little child that can do no great deeds, that can do nothing, but yet offers in itself the perfection of a human being. It honours as "our fallen nature's solitary boast," a woman unknown and unnoticed by her own; and because she is surpassingly the greatest of her race, therefore it knows her to be surpassingly innocent. It honours every type of mankind, the blind and the lame, the poor rich and the rich poor, the powerful and the helpless, that has been born, and lived its life, and done everything or seemingly nothing, but has kept itself throughout scatheless, unspotted. And it is wholly right. For what a man does is of value only in so far as it tells us what he is; if he is true - which is the same as saying if he is innocent - he is deserving of all honour, whether he reveals it or not. When I come to die, and the tale of my life is told over, I may or may not be called to account for what I have done or not done. That depends not wholly upon myself. It depends upon the choice of God; it depends upon accidental powers, a few brains more or less, nerve, courage, gifts that God can give or not; it depends still more upon merely accidental circumstances. But whether I am called to account for that or not, it will matter more to me, and it will matter more to God, and I give Him when He asks for it a heart that is true and innocent. Deeds God can receive from other hands than mine, and He does not ask them from all; my faithful self is mine and mine only to give Him, and that, whatever else, He will ask for. If I can give Him that, it will be proof enough of a life that has not been lived in vain; proof that He has been with me through it all, and that I shall be with Him through eternity.

Modernism and Theology

Sixth in a Series treating Modernism and Modern Thought

by

Fr. Joseph Bampton, S.J.

Perhaps enough has been said in the foregoing lectures to illustrate Modernist methods in dealing with Catholic truth. They would explain it only by explaining it away. And now we may turn to the consideration of a charge which is one of those most commonly brought by Modernists: that she has substituted theology for revelation. It is a charge of which we may expect to hear a good deal in the future. For it is a popular cry to go to the public with in a Protestant country like this. To represent the Church as substituting for the pure, unadulterated word of God a man-made system of dogma, as compelling a servile adherence to creeds and formulas in place of the freedom of Gospel truth, to represent her as "making theological laws and rules a substitute for the creative spirit of light and love" (Tyrrell), nay, as attempting "to subject the whole kingdom of knowledge to the control of revelation identified with dogmatic theology" (Tyrrell), all this makes a telling appeal to the gallery. And the charge was promptly taken up by many organs of public opinion in this country. To quote only one, a Saturday Reviewer spoke of "the everlasting service which Modernists have rendered to the cause of religion by distinguishing between revelation and theology: revelation, Christ made known to us; theology, man's interpretation of Him. [...] The appeal to revelation," the reviewer continues, "as against theology, is simply an appeal to be allowed to learn from Christ." What is suggested, of course, is that Catholic theology is a human corruption of a divine revelation, that it means learning from man instead of learning from Christ. That is the charge we have to meet.

Now, a Catholic would agree with a Modernist in saying that the Christian revelation does mean Christ made known to us, made known to us in His Person and in His teaching. But the question remains: how made known? In answering that question, the Catholic and the Modernist part company. The Catholic would answer: "Made known by Christ Himself in the first instance, by Christ Himself making Himself and His teaching known to the Apostles by word of mouth, and authorising them to make both known in like manner to others." That was Christ's own plan of revelation; that was the method devised by Christ Himself. "Revelation means learning from Christ," the Modernist says. "Quite so," the Catholic replies; "revelation means learning from Christ, but in the manner Christ ordained. And the manner which Christ ordained was that men should learn from Christ through men." For this purpose, Christ constituted His Apostles and their successors a teaching body. "Going, therefore, teach ye all nations" (St. Matthew 28); there is their commission as teachers. "Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you;" there is the subject matter of their teaching distinctly defined. "And behold am with you all days even to the end of the world; " there is a guarantee of assistance in their teaching, Christ's personal guarantee of divine assistance to them and to their successors to the end of time. Those words of Christ constitute the charter of the Church as a teaching body.

In the Catholic sense, then, Christian revelation is Christ and Christ's doctrine "made known to us" in the manner and by the channel Christ Himself ordained, that is by the Church as a teaching body.

But, teaching body though she be, the Church may not originate her own teaching. What she had to teach was strictly prescribed. "Teaching them," Christ said, "to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you." The body of doctrine thus confided by Christ to the Church's keeping, which we call " the deposit of the faith." The Church may not add to nor subtract from that. But she must guard it. Depositum custodi - "guard the deposit" - is St. Paul's injunction to Timothy (1 Timothy 6:20). And, as time went on, ever-increasing vigilance would be needed in its guardianship. As time went on, this or that doctrine of the deposit would be called into question, and the Church would have to defend it. This or that doctrine would need clearer exposition, and the Church would have to expound it. This or that doctrine would have to be declared in its full significance, to be worked out in its details, in its consequences, in its conclusions, to be traced in its legitimate development, to be studied in its relation to other doctrines, in its bearing upon the whole field of truth, natural and revealed, and for these purposes men had to exercise their reason upon revelation. Revelation being what it is, God's truth made known through the medium of the mind of man, and the mind of man being what it is, such an exercise of reason upon revelation was inevitable. And so there grew up in the Church - as it was natural there should in a teaching body - a school of thought, of thought employed upon revelation; a school of thought which gave birth to a science, a science of Christian dogma, a science not for the discovery of new dogmas, but for the preservation of the old. That science we call theology, dogmatic theology, for it is only with that branch of theology we are concerned now; and that school of theology has been adorned by some of the greatest minds the world has ever known, minds like those of an Augustine or an Aquinas or an Anselm or a Bonaventure, who have devoted their genius and learning to the highest purpose to which the genius and learning of man can be directed: to the study and elucidation of the teaching of Christ. In her schools of theology, the Church has nothing to apologise for. They are one of the glories of the Catholic Church.

The difference, then, between revelation and theology, is clear. By revelation, we mean the truth communicated by God to man; by theology, we mean the orderly and systematic study of that truth. There is no confusion in the Catholic mind between revelation and theology. The two things are quite distinct.

But it might be thought there is some danger, nevertheless, of confusing the two. It might be thought there is some danger of theology encroaching upon revelation. Theology is a science, it has been said, and theologians are its professors. Professors of all sciences are proverbially prone to press their own theories, to exalt their own opinions into dogmas; and professors of theology may be no exception to the rule. And so it might be thought there is some ostensible ground for the charge that there is a tendency in the Church to substitute theology for revelation. Against any such danger Christ Himself has provided a safeguard. In instituting His Church, He did not commit the supreme teaching authority to theologians. He committed it to him, and to him alone, to whom and to whose successors He said: "I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not [...] do thou confirm the brethren." It is not from any professor's chair that we accept Christ's teaching, it is from the Cathedra Petri - the Chair of Peter - and no conclusion of theologians, though it may call for respectful consideration, can command our assent, unless it come to us ratified, directly or indirectly, by that supreme authority. The See of Peter is the divinely appointed guardian of the deposit of revelation. And in the task of guarding that deposit, theology has its proper place, an important place indeed, but a place that is secondary and subordinate.

The Church does not substitute theology for revelation. How comes it, then, that Modernists say she does?

To understand that, we must bear in mind the Modernist conceptions of revelation and theology, conceptions radically different from the Catholic conceptions just explained. We said at the beginning that a Catholic would agree with the Modernist that the Christian revelation means "Christ made known to man," but would disagree with him when it came to answering the question: how made known? We have just seen how the Catholic answers that question. His answer is: "Made known by the Church, by the Church a teaching body, by the Church an external agency." The Modernist would answer: "Not so, but by an inward, personal, religious experience" (Loisy). That Modernist theory of revelation has been discussed already in the course of these lectures. I need only remind you of it now. As a leading Modernist puts it: "Revelation is the self-manifestation of the Divine in our inward life" (Tyrrell). And the same writer assures us that "faith in Christ never meant merely faith in a teacher and his doctrines, but an apprehension of his personality as revealing itself within us." In the Modernist sense, then, revelation is a purely internal spiritual experience. But, if this be so, revelation needs no external agency like the Church for its transmission. If revelation does not imply faith in a teacher, there is no need of a teaching body; and, if there is no teaching body, there is no room for a school of thought, the inevitable outcome of a teaching body, such as we have shown theology to be. The real gist of the Modernists' complaint is not so much that Catholic theology trespasses upon the domain of revelation; it is rather of the existence of revelation and theology in the Catholic sense at all.

In a system which declares revelation to be a matter solely of interior religious experience, if there be room for any school of theology, it will be a school not for the study and interpretation of a body of teaching - that is precluded by Modernist theories - it will be a school for "the taking account of individual and collective religious experiences," a school, that is, for the registering and comparing of religious experiences. But such experiences as - Modernists admit - are from their very nature incapable of exact expression in thought or language. Such a school, then, would be not so much a school of thought, as a school of impressions, a school of fancy, a school of sentiment, a school of what it is becoming the fashion to call mysticism, a school exposed to all the dangers of self-deception and hallucination and morbid imaginings to which so-called mysticism is liable, when deprived of the controlling influence of the teaching Church, a school which opens the door wide to all the religious extravagances and hysterical excesses of which the spirit of man is capable when it believes itself to be directly acted upon by the Spirit of God. Such is the only possible Modernist alternative to the sobriety and restraint and measured precision of thought and statement, which characterise the Catholic schools of theology. The difference is between a school of religious thought and a school of religious emotionalism. Of the two, which is likely to be the safer guide in the study of revelation, and which of the two is the more likely to impose upon mankind a man-made system of theology in place of a divine revelation?

It is against theories like these that St. Paul is warning his favourite disciple in the passage already quoted. He treats them with scant ceremony. He calls them "vain babblings, profane novelties of words [...] which some professing have erred concerning the faith," and in opposition to such theories his advice is clear and emphatic: "Guard the deposit."

Prayer Request: Richard Collins (Linen on the Hedgerow)

As some of you may already know, Richard Collins, author of the blog Linen on the Hedgerow, is in the last stages of his battle with cancer. Several Catholic bloggers have raised the call for prayer for the intercession of Venerable Pope Pius XII that Richard might be healed. Please take a moment to join us in prayer.

Venerable Pope Pius XII
(1876-1958)

O Jesus, eternal High Priest, Who didst deign to raise Thy faithful servant, Pius XII, to the supreme dignity of Thy Vicar on earth and to grant him the grace to be a fearless defender of the faith, a valiant champion of justice and peace, zealous in proclaiming the glory of Thy most holy Mother, a shining example of charity and all virtues, deign now to grant us, in view of his merits, the graces we ask of Thee; so that, made certain of his efficacious intercession with Thee, we may one day see him raised to the honors of our altars. Amen. 

UPDATE

From Linen on the Hedgerow:

It is with great personal sadness that we, the Collins Family, must inform the loyal followers of Linen on the Hedgerow, that our beautiful father, husband and grandfather, Richard Collins, has died peacefully at home this morning surrounded by those who loved him most.  He was blessed to receive the Last Rites and Holy Mass was celebrated in the Extraordinary Form at his bedside. 

Please pray for the repose of his soul. 

Eternal rest grant unto him O Lord and let perpetual light shine upon him.  May he rest in peace. Amen.

Pray, gentle reader, that you and all your loved ones may die with the blessing of having received the sacrament of Last Rites. 

Ecce Homo (Philippe de Champaigne)

Ecce Homo
Philippe de Champaigne (1602-1674)

Then the soldiers of the governor, taking Jesus into the hall, gathered together unto Him the whole band; And stripping Him, they put a scarlet cloak about Him. And platting a crown of thorns, they put it upon His head, and a reed in His right hand. And bowing the knee before Him, they mocked Him, saying: Hail, king of the Jews! And spitting upon Him, they took the reed, and struck His head. (St. Matthew 27:27-30)

On the Pastoral Law of Graduality

His Eminence Reinhard Cardinal Marx
(Photo: Allessia Giuliani/CPP/Ciric)

In the first rounds of discussion of the 2014 Extraordinary Synod on the Family, a somewhat unfamiliar term has been bandied about as though it were the panacea for the current crisis in sexual and medical ethics in the Church: graduality.

In his address to the assembly on October 6th, Cardinal Peter Erdo was first to use the term in the context of the Synod, when he said that Humanae vitae, Pope Paul VI's encyclical which reaffirmed the Church's position on the sanctity of human life, the purpose of marriage and the intrinsic evil of contraception, "needs to be considered in light of the law of graduality." Though their identities are unknown, it is reported that several other bishops at the Synod took up the term as an aid in promoting their views. Cardinal Marx of Germany is on record as saying that the application of the law of graduality would help the Church develop a new way of speaking about sexuality. He told reporters, "I think it is very important to see that we have ways or that there is a graduality also in the way to the sacrament."

What, exactly, is the law of graduality? Glad you asked.

The origin of the idea of graduality in the spiritual life is entirely innocuous. It comes from the recognition that, while every good Catholic aspires to the perfection of sainthood, each individual Catholic finds himself to some degree removed from that ideal. Simply put, if the saint is a pure, white light, then we Catholics living in the world are various shades of grey, some lighter, some darker, but all striving by degrees towards the fullness of that pure light. This notion of a step-by-step advance towards the ideal is commonly referred to among the clergy as 'graduality' or 'gradualism'.

Applied to the pastoral work of the parish priest, it means helping people recognize their current state of life, as fraught with sin as it may be, as a staging area from which they can set about to climb the ladder to sainthood, rung by rung. It's a common approach taken by countless good and holy priests, both in the confessional as well as at the pulpit, and has very likely saved countless souls from falling prey to despair.

Appealing to the notion of graduality is a perfectly valid approach to the pastoral care of souls - provided, of course, - and this is key - that the situation in which the individual finds himself is fundamentally sound, i.e., that there is not some objective obstacle which, by its very nature, prevents the individual from progressing along the path to sainthood. Just as it would be pointless to give interior design tips to a man who has constructed his house upon sand, so, too, would it be pointless to apply the law of graduality to an individual in a situation which is objectively disordered and inherently sinful.

Unfortunately, this key provision has been largely overlooked in the application of the notion of graduality in pastoral work over the last 50 years. Instead of demanding that the wayward individual work to remove those objective barriers - something which often causes a lot of hurt feelings and frequently provokes accusations of "heartheartedness" and "mercilessness" - pastors preferred to "meet the people where they are," and encourage those souls entrusted to their care to strive for whatever sanctity could be had in their current situation, sometimes even going so far as to excuse the objective disorder and inherent sinfulness of their situation by appealing to circumstances which could be seen as rendering the individual subjectively non-culpable. In their eagerness to always be seen as friendly and compassionate shepherds, many overlooked or simply ignored the grave sins occurring in their own parishes, among their own flock.

In his 1981 apostolic exhortation Familiaris consortio or 'On the Role of the Christian Family in the Modern World', Pope St. John Paul II warned of the dangers of applying the notion of graduality in a way which would lead to a relativization of the ideal of Christian marriage:

Married people, too, are called upon to progress unceasingly in their moral life, with the support of a sincere and active desire to gain ever better knowledge of the values enshrined in and fostered by the law of God. They must also be supported by an upright and generous willingness to embody these values in their concrete decisions. They cannot, however, look on the law as merely an ideal to be achieved in the future: they must consider it as a command of Christ the Lord to overcome difficulties with constancy. And so what is known as the "law of gradualness" or step-by-step advance cannot be identified with "gradualness of the law," as if there were different degrees or forms of precept in God's law for different individuals and situation. In God's plan, all husbands and wives are called in marriage to holiness, and this lofty vocation is fulfilled to the extent that the human person is able to respond to God's command with serene confidence in God's grace and in his or her own will. On the same lines, it is part of the Church's pedagogy that husbands and wives should first of all recognize clearly the teaching of Humane vitae as indicating the norm for the exercise of their sexuality, and that they should endeavor to establish the conditions necessary for observing that norm. (Familiaris consortio, §34)

This was underscored again in a discourse delivered by the Holy Father at the conclusion of a study seminar on the theme "Responsible Parenthood: Scientific, Philosophical and Theological Foundations" in 1983. He said:

The difficulties which the spouses encounter to be faithful to God's law cannot be ignored, and these difficulties have been the subject of your reflections.  It is necessary to do all that is possible to help married couples in an adequate way. Above all, it is necessary to avoid graduating God's law to the measure of the various situations in which the spouses find themselves.  The moral law reveals to us God's plan regarding marriage, the total good of conjugal love; the desire to diminish that plan is a lack of respect towards man's dignity.  The law of God expresses the demands of the truth of the human person: that order of divine Wisdom "which, if we observe in this life, will lead to God and unless we observe it, we will not reach God," as St. Augustine says (De ordine, 1 9,27). In fact, we can ask ourselves if the confusion between the "graduality of the law" and "the law of graduality" does not have its explanation also in a scanty esteem for God's law. The view is held that it is not suitable for every man, for every situation, and so it is desired to replace it with an order different from the divine.

He concluded his discourse with a solemn reminder:

All, married couples included, are called to holiness, and this is a vocation which may even demand heroism. This must not be forgotten.

Despite these clear warnings, this faulty application of the law of graduality was quickly becoming standard pastoral practice in many parts of the West, effectively undermining any efforts to call the faithful to apply the Church's teachings in their lives. God's mercy was being advanced so as to obscure His justice, and the objectivity of moral law was being thrown into question. In response, the Holy Father issued his 1993 encyclical Veritatis splendor, wherein he wrote:

In this context, appropriate allowance is made both for God's mercy towards the sinner who converts and for the understanding of human weakness. Such understanding never means compromising and falsifying the standard of good and evil in order to adapt it to particular circumstances. It is quite human for the sinner to acknowledge his weakness and to ask mercy for his failings; what is unacceptable is the attitude of one who makes his own weakness the criterion of the truth about the good, so that he can feel self-justified, without even the need to have recourse to God and his mercy. An attitude of this sort corrupts the morality of society as a whole, since it encourages doubt about the objectivity of the moral law in general and a rejection of the absoluteness of moral prohibitions regarding specific human acts, and it ends up by confusing all judgments about values. (Veritatis splendor, §104)

It's not as though the Synod Fathers are unaware of Pope St. John Paul II's warnings regarding the faulty application of the notion of graduality in pastoral work. Cardinal Vincent Nichols made a point of recalling the words of the Holy Father, underscoring how easily it can lead to the relativization of the objective moral order. But one has to wonder whether his call will be heeded, for the general approach was already established at the Mother of All Things Pastoral: the Second Vatican Council.

One would have to be blind not to see the clear parallels between these recent revelations regarding the understanding shared by some leading prelates on the subject of marriage and the development of "pastoral ecclesiology" at Vatican II, by which the solemnly defined dogma Extra ecclesiam nulla salus ("No salvation outside the Catholic Church") no longer means what it appears to say and what it was always understood as saying, i.e., that all non-Catholics are in perilous risk of final damnation, but rather that, while the Catholic Church alone possesses the "fullness of the truth", other religions might very well possess "elements of sanctification." In fact, at least one bishop made a direct analogy to this new understanding of ecclesiology when making his own suggestions on how the Church should reconsider its portrayal of "irregular unions." He was paraphrased by Vatican spokesman Fr. Frederico Lombardi as saying, "There is a full and ideal vision of the Christian family, but there are absolutely valid and important elements even of sanctification and of true love that may be present even when one does not fully realize this ideal."

The analogy is quite apt. In fact, one could say that the issue of modern ecclesiology provides something of a case study in the application of graduality which fails to require the removal of inherently disordered and objectively sinful barriers to progress towards sainthood. Thus, given that Vatican II was a raging success in the area of ecclesiology, we can rest assured that doing the same thing to Christian marriage will yield equally successful results. Right?