On the Virtuous Pagan, Limbo and the Theology of Damnation

As some of you might have noticed, Christine Niles of Church Militant recently hosted a webcast which explored the thrice-defined dogma of extra Ecclesiam nulla salus (EENS), or "No salvation outside the Church." I took this as a wink from God, because I've been meaning to write something on this very important teaching for quite a while now. After months of procrastination, it seems the time has arrived to put my thoughts down on paper... or whatever blogs are made of. I offer them for your consideration.

Instead of going through the list of familiar papal pronouncements which treat the doctrine of EENS, I'd like to approach the teaching from a completely different angle. In particular, from that of the theology of damnation. This might at first seem to be a rather odd point of entry, but there are good reasons for exploring the theology of damnation before attempting to digest EENS. Three such reasons concern us here:

1. Damnation is the theological complement to salvation. Any doctrine which explicitly defines matter related to salvation implicitly defines matter related to damnation, as the one is the logical and eschatological complement of the other. Thus, EENS has just as much to do with damnation as it does with salvation.
2. Damnation is the rule, not the exception. It is often assumed that nearly everyone is saved, and that only a few exceptionally bad individuals - Hitler, Stalin, the guy who invented reality TV - are damned. On the contrary, damnation is the condition into which all of us are born, and unless we receive and die in the saving grace of God, damnation will also be our eternal reward. Christ came to save us from damnation, and it's a miracle every time a soul is saved precisely because, according to God's law, we fully deserve that damnation. This is essential background knowledge for approaching the doctrine of EENS.
3. Damnation is poorly understood. While damnation is the logical and eschatological complement to salvation, it is not simply the inverse of salvation. That is to say, the state of damnation is positively differentiated in a way which is not reflected in the order of salvation. Understanding this qualitative differentiation is essential for putting EENS in its proper theological context.

While the first two points should be readily grasped by all, the third stands in need of some clarification. In what does the qualitative differentiation of damnation consist? And how does it help elucidate the doctrine of EENS? Before we attempt to answer these important questions, it behooves us to identify the prevailing view of damnation, as this is what we will be attempting to correct as we proceed. This preliminary step proves to be key, because much of the disdain for the doctrine of EENS arises from a faulty understanding of damnation - which, incidentally, many Catholics have adopted from their Protestant neighbors.

As a general rule, Protestants believe that there are two possible fates for each individual soul - fates which are instantaneously awarded and diametrically opposite to one another: heaven and hell. One minute you're eating a delicious strip of crispy bacon, and the next, you're either sitting on a cloud strumming your harp or you're down in the pits of hell being roasted over hot coals while listening to Kenny G for all eternity. Of course, I'm taking some creative license with the imagery - it could well be Zamfir - but the dichotomy referred to is nonetheless an unmistakable feature of the Protestant's theological landscape. So much so, in fact, that, next to bashing the mother of Our Lord, there's little else Protestants love more than attacking the Catholic doctrine of Purgatory. In their strictly two-category system, Purgatory is like a third-party American President: interesting to think about but utterly impossible.

Most Catholics in the West have unconsciously absorbed this way of thinking about damnation. Sure, they know about Purgatory, but it's generally treated like a quirky doctrinal addendum and imagined to be not unlike a really horrible waiting room. This is a rather unfortunate state of affairs, because Catholic teaching on damnation is not only intellectually and morally satisfying, but also demonstrates the perfect harmony of God's mercy with His justice.

Back in the day - i.e. before the ecumenicidal leveling of every distinctively Catholic doctrine into the feel-good mush regularly served up in parishes around the world - theologians worked at providing genuine insight into the truths of our Catholic Faith. And damnation was, believe it or not, something of a "big deal" - so big, in fact, that theologians spent a lot of time examining it in great detail. They discovered that there are actually four kinds of damnation, each with their own variety of poena or "penalty" and each with their own proper spiritual 'location', though all can be considered as parts of "Hell", viz:

• poena aeterna damni et sensus of Hell proper, i.e. the Inferno
• poena temporalis damni et sensus of Purgatory
• poena aeterna damni of the Limbo of the Unbaptized/Infants
• poena temporalis damni of the Limbo of the Fathers

For those of you with a working knowledge of Latin and an appreciation of the Scholastic art of logical division, the breakdown here is as clear as it is precise. For everyone else:

There are two primary forms of "penalty", "punishment" or "pain" (all of which are etymologically related to Latin poena): (1) poena damni, the punishment of damnation, and (2) poena sensus, the punishment of the senses, i.e. sensory pain. Each of these can be either eternal (aeterna) or temporary (temporalis) in duration.

From this, we can draw several illuminating conclusions, many of which I will leave to you, gentle reader, to discover on your own. One critical insight which deserves to be highlighted, however, is this: the punishment of damnation and the punishment of sensory pain are not the same thing. In point of fact, the punishment of sensory pain is limited to Hell and Purgatory. This makes good Catholic sense, because Hell and Purgatory are the respective sentences for mortal and venial sin, and are therefore predicated upon the moral fault of the individual. Where there is no personal moral fault, as is the case with those who die with nothing other than the stain of original sin on their souls, there is no punishment of sensory pain. And how could it be any other way? God, being omnibenevolent, is not going to allow a person to be tormented for something of which he is not personally guilty.

At the same time, however, God is all-holy and all-just, and nothing bearing the stain of sin can stand before Him. And this is the essence of salvation: to be fully reconciled to God by removal of the stain of sin and to stand in His presence, i.e. to enjoy the beatific vision. Yet, the stain of original sin can only be removed by the waters of baptism. Thus, baptism is absolutely necessary in order to avoid the punishment of damnation and to enjoy the beatific vision, and the souls of those who die free from all personal sin but who are nonetheless stained with original sin are, technically speaking, damned. In this category would fall not only babies who die before baptism, but also virtuous pagans who never receive the opportunity to hear the Gospel and be baptized. But - and this is important - such a person does not suffer the positive pains of Hell.

This is not merely speculation culled from theological manuals. At least two Popes and an Ecumenical Council have said as much:

The Roman Church teaches [...] that the souls of those who depart in mortal sin or with original sin only descend immediately to Hell, nevertheless to be punished with different punishments and in disparate locations. - Pope John XXII, Nequaquam sine dolore

That is to say, the unbaptized who die without personal sin (i.e. "only original sin") are, strictly speaking, "damned," as they endure the poena damni or punishment of damnation. But the extent of their damnation is limited to the deprivation of the beatific vision, and they dwell in a "disparate location," i.e. not in Hell proper, as the place of sensory punishment. This teaching was confirmed by the Council of Florence in the following terms:

...the souls of those who depart this life in actual mortal sin, or in original sin alone, go down straightaway to Hell to be punished, but with unequal pains. - Council of Florence, Laetentur Caeli

Pope Pius VI later taught the same in his condemnation of an error widely held at his time:

The doctrine which rejects as a Pelagian fable that place of the lower regions (which the faithful generally designate by the name of Limbo of the Children) in which the souls of those departing with the sole guilt of original sin are punished with the punishment of the condemned, exclusive of the punishment of fire [...] is false, rash, injurious to Catholic schools. - Pope Pius VI, Auctorem Fidei

This statement is clearer still in that it identifies "that place of the lower regions," i.e. Limbo, as receiving not merely children but all who die free from personal sin yet with the stain of original sin, and that such persons, while undergoing the poena damni, do not experience the poena sensus, i.e. the "punishment of fire."

This same teaching was summarized by Fr. L. E. Latorre in his Guidebook for Baptism:

The great majority of theologians teach that such children and unbaptized adults free from grievous actual sin enjoy eternally a state of perfect natural happiness, knowing and loving God by the use of their natural powers. This place and state is commonly called Limbo.

This statement goes even further, claiming that, more than simply being free from sensory pain, those in Limbo actually experience natural happiness. This, however, appears to be a point upon which there was heavy disagreement among theologians. As one historian notes:

In the fifth session of the Council of Trent, the Dominicans advocated the stricter view, making of the limbus infantium [Limbo of the Infants] a dark, underground prison, while the Franciscans placed it above in a region of light. Others made the condition of these children still better: they supposed them occupied with studying nature, philosophizing on it, and receiving occasional visits from angels and saints. As the Council thought it best not to decide this point, theologians have since been free to embrace either view.

Finally, I offer the following useful summary, which appeared in the July, 1849 edition of Brownson's Quarterly Review:

Suppose now, - and if the supposition is inadmissible the objection vanishes, - that among the gentiles there are persons who die out of the Church, free from all actual sin: they, certainly, will never see God, will never enter heaven, will not be saved; yet nothing obliges us to believe that they will be doomed to the punishment of sense, or to the positive sufferings of hell. What will be their fate, beyond the fact that they will not be saved, we do not know, and do not attempt to determine. We remit them, if such there are, to the bounty of God, who, for aught we know, may place them in the category of unbaptized infants who die in their infancy. But no injustice is done them in not admitting them to the beatific vision; for to see God by the light of glory is a gratuitous reward, promised only to supernatural faith and sanctity, never due and never promised to mere natural innocence or to mere natural virtue. The defect of natural innocence or of natural virtue excludes from it, but the possession of either or both does not and cannot entitle to it; and natural innocence and virtue are all that it can be pretended that these have. Hence, supposing such persons, supposing them to die free from all but original sin, no injustice is done them in excluding them from salvation, and therefore the dogma which denies the possibility of salvation out of the Church asserts nothing contrary to the justice or even to the fidelity of God.

This quote brings us neatly back to our original question:  How does the qualitative differentiation of damnation help to elucidate the doctrine of extra Ecclesiam nulla salus? I hope the answer is already sufficiently clear. But allow me to highlight what I consider to be the most salient point:

There is absolutely nothing harsh or judgmental in the doctrine that there is no salvation outside the Catholic Church. On the contrary, a proper understanding of the teaching reveals both God's supreme justice as well as His infinite mercy, as He neither punishes nor rewards arbitrarily. If we approach the teaching with a wrong understanding of salvation and damnation, then we are bound to misunderstand what it means. We do not need to adjust the meaning of the term "outside," as some have attempted to do; we do not need to adjust the meaning of the term "Church," as others have attempted to do; and we certainly do not need to abandon the doctrine of Limbo, as still others have attempted to do. The Catholic teaching on salvation and damnation, including the teaching on the absolute necessity of the Church, is inextricably intertwined with her teaching on countless issues, being of central importance to moral theology, soteriology and eschatology, and a doctrine such as EENS cannot be "tweaked" to appease the sensibilities of a decadent and unrepentant generation without distorting a whole host of intimately related truths. 

Now, I understand that some might be concerned that the approach taken above - and it is nothing more than one possible approach - could be seen as demoralizing to the Church's missionary efforts. After all, if the Virtuous Pagan can attain something resembling natural happiness without being a member of the Church, then why should Catholics risk life and limb to bring them the message of the Gospel? In response, I would point, first, to Our Lord's positive commandment to "teach ye all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you." Second, I would highlight that, as Catholics, we know that man was created to live in the presence of Almighty God, and that to fail in attaining this, our proper end, is always a tragedy, even if it does not necessarily bring with it the painful torments of Hell. That is to say, our goal in evangelization and mission is not merely to assist the Church in her work of saving souls from Hell (or Purgatory, or Limbo), but also to assist her in bringing souls to the throne of majesty to enjoy the beatific vision of Our Lord in all His glory. That is the true mission of the Catholic Church, outside of which there is no salvation.

Dante and Vergil Visit the Virtuous Pagans in Limbo
"Lost are we and only so far punished that, without hope, we live on in desire."
Gustave Doré (1832-1883)

Cardinal Marx Gives Master Class in Subversion

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

Last week, the Central Committee of German Catholics (Zentralkomitee der deutschen Katholiken, ZdK) published a document which demands, among other things, sacramental blessings of same-sex unions and adulterous relationships as well as the "unconditional acceptance" of the cohabitation of people living in such unions. To anyone even remotely aware of the current moral condition of the German Catholic laity, the report was cause for little more than a deep if thoroughly unsatisfying yawn. It was only a few weeks ago that the Confederation of German Catholic Youth (Bund der deutschen katholischen Jugend, BDKJ) made much the same demands, and it was largely due to the BDKJ's inflexibility that the ZdK included them in the final draft of its paper. Today, however, the German Catholic press is awash with reports of Cardinal Reinhard Marx's critical - some would even say "harsh" - response to the ZdK document:

The document includes some demands which are theologically unacceptable. The demand for the blessing of same-sex partnerships and second marriages which remain unrecognized by the Church is incompatible with the teaching and tradition of the Church. The demand for "unconditional acceptance" of the communal life of committed same-sex relationships also contradicts the teaching and tradition of the Church.

What's this? Cardinal 'Moneybags' Marx suddenly develops an appreciation for fidelity to Church teaching and tradition? Before anyone begins singing Te Deum in thanks for the miraculous conversion of the current head of the German Bishops Conference, however, observe the demands included in the ZdK document which did not receive the same public deprecation:

• more respect for cohabitation outside of marriage, i.e. concubinage
• a re-evaluation of artificial methods of contraception
• more liturgical "development"
• admittance of divorced and "remarried" Catholics to Holy Communion

It doesn't take much insight to surmise that these demands were passed over in silence precisely because Cardinal Marx and the German faction he represents support them.

But at least he has categorically rejected something, right? I mean, he's demonstrated that he has something resembling conviction on a point of doctrine. That has to count for something, doesn't it? Well, it might - if it were true. Observe the words of the Cardinal which follow immediately upon the heels of his "condemnation":

Both issues [i.e. sacramental blessings of same-sex unions and adulterous relationships and "unconditional acceptance" of life in such states] require further theological clarification and not rash, bold demands, which do nothing to encourage what is certainly necessary theological debate and dialogue within the Church.

Ah, there it is: Modernism's penchant for duplicity. With one side of your mouth, condemn a proposition as contrary to Church teaching; with the other, open it up to debate and "dialogue". You know you're doing it right if you can accomplish the feat in a single breath.

Cardinal Marx is condemning, therefore, not so much the propositions of the ZdK, but rather their sophomorically blunt tactics. Any Modernist deserving of the name knows that open revolution is deadly to the cause. The name of the game is slow and steady subversion, and Cardinal Marx is a world-class player. So, take heart, fledgling subverters of the Confederation of German Catholic Youth: You just got schooled by the best.

He Loved Them Unto The End

Tenth Conference on the Most Sacred Heart

 by

 Fr. Henry Brinkmeyer

We have dwelt with adoring wonder upon the scenes glowing with the manifestations of Christ's love in His hidden life, and again in that  public life, when He became a teacher in Israel. Let us now follow His steps through the scenes of His Passion, and see how Love can die to win for man eternal life.

We know that God was not obliged to redeem the world; much less was He bound to pass through all those exquisite sufferings which He in reality did endure. It is true that the insult contained in mortal sin is infinite. Were all men to shed their blood, it could not atone for one mortal sin. Whatever be the extent of its sufferings, neither man, nor angel, nor any other creature can give adequate satisfaction to an offended God. But our Lord is more than a creature.

Having united to His divine Person a human nature, everything He does or endures in His human nature is divine, and therefore gives infinite satisfaction, and has infinite merit. Hence, one short prayer uttered by the human lips of Jesus, one breath, one thought, one sigh, one tear, one tiny drop of blood would have been infinitely pleasing in the sight of His Father and would have been sufficient to redeem millions of sinful worlds like the one we inhabit. But love is not selfish, it knows no measure; our Lord hungered for sufferings.

I lay down My life for My sheep, no man taketh it away: but I lay it down of Myself, and I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again.

Why, we ask, did our Lord wish to suffer and die? Why did He permit such torrents of pain to overwhelm His soul? Naturally He was averse to suffering. What, then, was the motive? Love. Infinite love for man. The boundless love of the Sacred Heart made Jesus thirst for our love, and desire to be baptized in His own blood, that by so doing He might excite us to love.

I am come to cast fire on the earth, and what will I but that it be kindled?

And:

I have a baptism wherewith I am to be baptized; and how am I straitened, until it be accomplished.

For love is what is called ecstatic, that is to say, it goes out beyond itself. It diffuses and overflows. It does not only what is sufficient; it passes on to the excessive.

Our Lord then suffered, first of all, in His body. The body of Christ was perfect beyond all the bodies of men; for had there been any imperfection in it, it would have been due, as St. Thomas says, either to the maker or to the material. But the maker, the miraculous maker, was God Himself. He formed it, He fashioned it, all alone. And the material was the pure, immaculate heart's blood of the Blessed Virgin. It was, then, perfect and beautiful beyond conception.

But the more perfect a body, the finer its organization, and the more delicate its fibre, muscle and nerve, the more sensitive is that body to pain. Our Lord's body was therefore tremblingly alive to suffering. See now, how He permitted His body to be treated.

From the crown of His head to the sole of His foot, there is no soundness in Him, there are wounds and bruises, and swelling sores.

Ecce Homo, "Behold the Man." Behold Him at the pillar, bound like a criminal, to the whipping-post, and the cords cutting into His wrists and ankles. Hark to the cutting lashes of the whips! They raise the purple welts, they tear gashes into His virginal flesh, they make streams of blood run down His sacred body. He sinks exhausted, His knees give way beneath Him, and He hangs by the cords apparently lifeless to a felon's pillar of shame. They cut the bands and seat Him upon a mock throne, they scoff at Him and put a robe of purple about His bleeding shoulders. Then, plaiting rude thorns into a crown, they place them on His forehead and force them in with the blows of a reed. And the sharp thorns pierce that fair and majestic brow, and the crimson drops ooze out beneath them, and the silent tears mingle with the blood that flows down His cheeks and blinds His loving eyes. Surely, malice has now spent itself. But no! They hurry Him through the streets to Mt. Calvary, they nail His hands and feet to the cross, they hoist it into the air, they pull and push it into the hole prepared for it, it is fixed, and on it hangs the mangled, dying Saviour of the world.

I am a worm and no man, the reproach of men and the outcast of the people. [...] They have dug My hands and feet; they have numbered all My bones.

Truly, He had a baptism, wherewith He was baptized: He was baptized in His own blood.

He also suffered in His soul, and far more intensely than in His body. Interior sufferings arise chiefly from dishonor, ingratitude, and abandonment. Our Lord suffered from all these sources.

First, from dishonor. To a high, noble-minded soul, dishonor is more than death: and Jesus permitted Himself to become the reproach of men and the outcast of the people. During the three years of His public life, He had gained the hearts of the Jewish multitude. His miracles had won for Him respect and veneration as a prophet and messenger of God. Throngs were ever following, in love and awe, His footsteps. His power had never yet been known to fail ; His bitterest enemies could justly impute no fault to Him, His sanctity was acknowledged everywhere, His wisdom respected and men were disposed to look upon Him as the Messiah and one of the sons of God. All at once, a revulsion took place. He was captured and bound, He appeared wholly unable to defend Himself. He was ignominiously treated, buffeted, even spit upon. He seemed powerless before the storm. He was accused of being a blasphemer, a glutton, an impostor, a seducer of the people, and He said not a word in His defense. Even when they treated Him as a fool and mocked Him publicly in the streets, He opened not His mouth. He was led as a lamb to the slaughter. He bore his own cross, no angel was permitted to share His weary burden. He suffered an agony as ordinary mortals do. Angry voices asked: "If He is so wise, so great, so holy, why does not Heaven help Him? Behold how He bleeds, how He suffers, how He dies!" And men turned away from Him, mocking and deriding Him, and laughing at their former fears. Truly could He say: "I am a worm and no man!"

He suffered from ingratitude. Ingratitude cuts like a two-edged sword into the heart, and if there ever was a human heart lacerated by an ungrateful world, it was the Heart of "the Man of Sorrows." Think of the countless deeds of love He had wrought for that people, how He had instructed them day after day, and night after night; how He had healed their afflicted and raised their dead, how He had multiplied His miracles and revealed to them the brightness of His divine sanctity, yet, like fiends, they cry: "Crucify Him, crucify Him! We do not wish Him for our king. His blood be upon us; nail Him to the cross." Think of the traitor Judas! How Jesus Christ had loved him; and still this villainous apostate barters away his God and Master for thirty pieces of silver. Again, Simon Peter, whom our Lord had chosen as the Head of His Church, whom He had instructed more carefully than the rest, whom He had warned and for whom He had prayed, whom He had just ordained a priest, whom He had united to Himself at the mystical supper of the Eucharist: Simon Peter denies His Master at the word of a weak servant-girl. And oh! What sources of grief overwhelmed Him at thought of those innumerable souls who will damn themselves knowingly and freely, thoughtless of all that their Redeemer has suffered. Hanging on the cross between heaven and earth, with all the agony of death upon Him, Jesus looks out into the future and sees their guilty souls. How His Heart must have sunk with anguish at the sight of the generations of men, who, heedless of all that He had done, and of all that He had suffered, would yet trample upon His blood and fix their destiny in hell. What marvel, that in the Garden of Gethsemane, blood oozed in agony from His every pore!

Finally, He suffered from abandonment. Listen to His cry. He had given up all He had. His reputation was gone. His disciples had left Him. His Mother was there, but He had consigned her to St. John, to be the Mother of men. One consolation seemed to be left for Him in the extreme agony which He was enduring, viz.: the thought that He was pleasing to His Father, and that His Father was with Him. But no, even of that joy, even of that one consolation He deprived Himself. See Him on the cross; He lifts up His head, the drooping eyes are cast to heaven, an expression of intense agony passes over His dying face, and the quivering, agonized lips cry out: "My God! My God! Why hast Thou forsaken Me?" Poor Jesus! He holds back every consolation from His soul; He deluges His broken Heart with every grief the human heart is capable of knowing, and then, when He has exhausted the chalice of suffering, He bows His head and dies with all the justice of the Father upon Him, as the innocent victim of a guilty world. What could He have done that He did not do to prove to us the love of His Heart? Can we think of so much love and not love in return?

If any man love not our Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema! The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you!

Amen.

In Ascensione Domini

The Ascension of Christ
Gebhard Fugel (1863-1939)

Concede, quaesumus, omnipotens Deus: ut, qui hodierna die Unigenitum tuum Redemptorem nostrum ad caelos ascendisse credimus, ipsi quoque mente in caelestibus habitemus.

Grant, we beseech Thee, almighty God, that we who believe Thine only-begotten Son, our Redeemer, to have this day ascended into heaven, may ourselves dwell in spirit amid heavenly things.

***

For my readers in Southern Germany and Northern Switzerland:

His Excellency Bishop Vitus Huonder will be celebrating a Pontifical High Mass in the Basilica of the Assumption of Our Lady, in Uhldingen-Birnau (Baden-Württemberg) at 14:00 today. Also in attendance will be the seminarians of the Priestly Fraternity of Saint Peter (FSSP). The musical setting will be the Missa Prima of Claudio Crassini (1561-1632). If you're in the area, don't miss it.

Encyclicus Maculatus: Eco-Encyclical To Undergo Revision

(Photo: CNS / Paul Hering)

According to Vaticanist Sandro Magister, Pope Francis has decided to postpone the publication of his long-awaited encyclical on the environment. The reason, according to Magister, is that the Pope realized that the document in its current state had no chance of receiving the approval of the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith under the leadership of Cardinal Gerhard Müller. If it seems somewhat improper for a Cardinal to be telling a Pope what he can and can't write, don't fret, gentle reader: the text wasn't written by Pope Francis at all.

The ghostwriter behind the heavily discussed encyclical is one Archbishop Victor Manuel Fernández of Tiburnia, a native of Buenos Aires. Archbishop Fernández, who belongs to Pope Francis' inner circle in the position of most trusted theological adviser, was already heavily involved in the writing of Evangelii gaudium, and spent the Summer of 2013 in Rome for that purpose. Last March, as Pope Francis set about to compose his Eco-Encyclical, Archbishop Fernández was again flown in to do the heavy lifting. The close working relationship apparently stretches back to the time when Pope Francis was still Archbishop Jorge Bergoglio of Buenos Aires, with Fernández working largely behind the scenes, drafting the future Pontiff's important speeches and letters.

Archbishop Victor Manuel Fernández
(Notice the pectoral cross. Look familiar?)

However, it seems that Archbishop Fernández has let the influence he enjoyed over papal affairs go to his head. In an interview published in Corriere della Sera last Sunday, he took the current wave of Ultramontanism to new heights, implying that the Curia and the entire body of Cardinals are non-essential to the government of the Church - which, while technically true, is Vaticanese for "we will push ahead, with or without the Cardinals' blessing." He also felt safe enough to criticize Cardinal Müller's recent comments that his job as Prefect of the CDF is to give the Pope's magisterium theological structure:

I have read that some say that the Roman Curia is an essential part of the mission of the Church, or that a Prefect in the Vatican is the sure compass preventing the Church from falling into ignominy, or that this Prefect guarantees the unity of the Faith and facilitates serious theology from the Pope. But Catholics know from reading the Gospel that it was to the Pope and the Bishops that Christ granted a special governance and enlightenment - and not to a Prefect or some other structure. When one hears such things, one could almost get the impression that the Pope is merely their representative, or one who has come to disturb and must, therefore, be monitored. [...] The Pope is convinced that what he has written or said cannot be treated as an error. Therefore, all these things can be repeated in the future, without having to fear receiving a sanction for it.

We don't know how Cardinal Müller reacted to these sharp words, or whether, as Giuseppe Nardi surmises, he spoke directly with Pope Francis regarding the encylical, but Magister relates that sources inside Santa Marta are reporting that the Pope will not be publishing Archbishop Fernández' already completed text, and has - for the time being - tabled the entire project. It's clear that he can't let it disappear entirely without a tremendous loss of face in the public arena; UN Secretary General Ban Ki-Moon, apparently moonlighting as a Vatican spokesman, has announced that the encyclical is set to appear in June of this year. But who will be behind the next incarnation of the encyclicus maculatus is anybody's guess.

(NB: I would like to acknowledge the work of the tireless Giuseppe Nardi, without which this article could not have been written. See his treatment, in German, here.)

***UPDATE***

Edward Pentin has written an excellent followup article which includes something of a démenti on the part of Fr. Frederico Lombardi. In it, Fr. Lombardi contradicts what Sandro Magister's unnamed sources inside Santa Marta reported regarding the abandonment of Archbishop Fernández' draft of the upcoming eco-encyclical, saying that the encyclical will appear as planned, i.e. "probably in June." I'll happily overlook the contradictory tinge of that assessment, and wait patiently with the rest of you to see exactly what the future holds for what will, in all likelihood, remain the encyclicus maculatus.

The Church of the Late First Century: Offices and Hierarchy

Reading N°15 in the History of the Catholic Church

 by

 Fr. Fernand Mourret, S.S.

Chapel of St. Ananias in Damascus (1st Century)
(Photo: Axilera)

There is a very precious document which contains a wealth of information about Christian life of the late First Century: it is the Didache, or Doctrine of the Twelve Apostles, written some time between 70 and 100, but echoing traditions that are earlier than the date of its composition. It is the work of a Judaeo-Christian, who, in the opinion of some authors, wrote at Antioch,^[1] but who, at any rate, clearly has in view the situation brought about in the Church by the apostolate of Paul and Barnabas at Antioch.^[2]

The organization of the hierarchy presents a stage of development intermediate between that shown in the Acts of the Apostles and that revealed by the writings of the Apostolic Fathers. Apostles, prophets, doctors, episkopoi-presbyteroi,^[3] and deacons: these are the ministers who seem to be entrusted with distinct functions. 

First we must distinguish from all the rest the Apostles in the strict sense of the word, "the Twelve." They exercise a double function in the churches: that of founders and that of pastors. As founders of the Church, in dependence upon Christ and the Holy Ghost, they are invested with special prerogatives, the chief ones being doctrinal infallibility, universal jurisdiction, and the possibility of receiving a divine revelation for the direction of the universal Church. We shall see the Church appeal to the authority of the Apostles as a decisive test in controversies. No territorial circumscription limits their powers. When they feel the need of acting in concert, as at the Council of Jerusalem, or when St. Paul declares that he does not wish to "build upon another man's foundation,"^[4] this is because of a spirit of discretion and prudence, or because of an intimate dependence upon the Holy Ghost. These extraordinary privileges disappear with the last of the twelve Apostles. No one thereafter is able to appeal to them except the Roman Pontiff, and the era of public revelation closes at the death of the last of them. As to the teaching and disciplinary authority which they exercise as pastors, that will last until the end of the world and will be handed down by perpetual succession.

But the name "Apostles" was also given, even in the New Testament writings, to other persons besides the Twelve. Barnabas is called an apostle,^[5] as also are Andronicus and Junias;^[6] and St. Paul says that Christ, after appearing to Peter and to the Eleven, appeared to more than five hundred brethren, then to James, and lastly to all the Apostles.^[7]

When the Didache speaks of Apostles, without specifying that it refers to the Twelve, it means ministers sent out on mission. An apostle is an "envoy of the Lord." He should not stop in one place more than a day, or at most two days. If he remains three days, he is a false prophet.^[8] The apostle has a claim only to his nourishment; he should be given nothing except some bread for his sustenance until he reaches his next stopping-place. If he asks for money, he is a false prophet.^[9]

Among the sacred ministers, after the apostles the Didache mentions the prophets. The apostolic writings speak of the ministry of prophecy.^[10] St. Paul refers to the part taken by prophets in the Christian assemblies,^[11] and the Acts of the Apostles mentions by name the principal prophets in the Church at Antioch.^[12] They are men who, like the prophets of the Old Law, speak under the direct action of the Holy Spirit and who at times foretell future events.^[13] But the prophets of the Didache appear to have, if not an altogether different character, at least a different importance in the Church. What were their special functions ? Were they from the ranks of the laity, endowed with charismatic gifts, which circumstances made conspicuous? Or did they hold some rank in the hierarchy? On this interesting and difficult question no definite answer can be given.

After the apostles and prophets, the Didache mentions the doctors or didascales. From the Acts of the Apostles we know that there were doctors in the Church at Antioch.^[14] Like the prophet, the doctor was a minister of the word; the former spoke under the action of the Spirit, whereas the latter spoke according to knowledge acquired in the ordinary way. Several times doctors are spoken of by Hermas, the pesudo-Clementine Homilies, Clement of Alexandria, and Origen.

The Didache, after directing the faithful to meet together on Sundays for the "breaking of bread" and for the giving of thanks, adds: "Appoint therefore for yourselves episkopoi.^[15] It then briefly indicates the qualities these should have, and their functions. They must be "worthy of the Lord, meek men, and not lovers of money, truthful and approved, for they also minister to you the ministry of the prophets and teachers."^[16] If we compare these words with what we know from contemporary sources - St. Paul, St. Clement, St. Ignatius, and St. Justin - and from archaeological monuments of the time, they suggest the greatness of the ministry confided to the episkopoi. They are ministers of the Eucharistic sacrifice described in the preceding lines of the Didache. For this reason they should be "worthy of the Lord." They must be "meek," as becomes those who have the duty of governing their brethren; "not lovers of money," for they have to administer the possessions of the community; "truthful and approved," because, as resident ministers, they must teach the community and preach - a duty that the prophets and doctors performed only in passing.

The word episkopos (bishop) was taken from the administrative institutions of the Greeks, who thus designated a civil official having an office of superintendence and inspection. The term was soon applied exclusively to the head of a particular Church. As the Didache uses this word only in the plural, some historians have thought that the title at that time given to the head of the local Church was "prophet."

Subject to the orders of this head, whatever name we give him, were the ancients or presbyteroi, who, at that period and for some time afterwards, met together in a council, called presbyteral (presbyterion). Many indications, which we need not dwell upon, lead us to suppose (though we cannot be quite positive) that, at the period spoken of by the Didache, these ancients had the "powers of orders," of a bishop - for instance, that of ordaining priests - though not possessing the "powers of jurisdiction." The title "ancient" is of Jewish origin. Among the Jews it was customary to entrust the direction of each synagogue to a council of ancients.^[17]

Upon this institution, the Apostles modeled the organization of their first communities. St. Paul admonishes Timothy to remember the grace he received by the imposition of the hands of the ancients,^[18] and St. Peter implores the ancients to feed the flock entrusted to them.^[19] Before long, the meaning of the word became precise. After the death of the Twelve, when each separate church was placed under the direction of a single chief, when the institution of the council of elders disappeared, and the word "bishop" took on its own meaning, the title "elder" or "ancient" was used only of simple priests. This is the meaning of the word in St. Ignatius' letter, in which he congratulates the Ephesians on the happy circumstance that their ancients (i.e., priests) are united to their episkopos (i.e., bishop) like the strings of a lyre.^[20]

As to the deacons, concerning whom we have already learned from earlier documents, the Didache supplies no additional light on their duties. Their domain continues to be that of works of zeal and charity, preaching, and the service of the poor.

If we consider the ecclesiastical hierarchy of the latter half of the first century as a whole, as it is described in the Doctrine of the Twelve Apostles, it appears to be nearly always on the move. The apostle, the prophet, the doctor, in a word the "itinerant minister," occupies the stage more frequently than the resident clergy, who, however, have the duty of supervising and controlling them.^[21] The missioner is more conspicuous than the ordinary priest or the bishop; he is the center about whom the multitude gathers. To him go the people's offerings; and more than once we find the prophet even taking part in the functions of divine worship. But as the individual churches become organized in a more stable manner, the bishop's authority emerges more emphatically. Soon we find the bishop's pastoral function absorbing all the functions of the apostle, prophet, and doctor. These latter have only a transient place in the hierarchy, and disappear from it in the second century.

Footnotes

[1] Bestmann, Geschichte der Christlichen Sitte, Part II, pp. 136-153.

[2] The Didache was widely known among the Christians until the fall of the Roman Empire, and was then lost. It was refound at Constantinople by Ph. Bryennios, who published the text in 1883. Cf. Hemmer, "La Doctrine des douze apotres," in the Revue d'histoire et de littérature religieuse, 1907, pp. 193 ff.

[3] We do not translate these Greek terms, because the episkopos is not necessarily what we call "bishop," and the presbyteros may be a bishop. We saw above that all the presbyteroi took part in the Council of Jerusalem; and the Acts of the Apostles, when recounting St. Paul's farewell to the pastors of the Church of Ephesus, calls them now presbyteroi, and again episkopoi. (Acts 20:17-28.) St. Jerome says: "Eosdem episcopos illo tempore quos et prebyteros appellabant." (Comment in Epist. ad Titum, I:5.)

[4] Rom. 15:20.

[5] Acts 14:4, 13.

[6] Rom. 16:7.

[7] Cf. 1 Cor. 15:5-8. It might be supposed that the text refers to the Twelve, if the context did not seem to indicate that there is question of others besides them.

[8] Didache, XI, 5.

[9] Ibidem, XI, 6.

[10] Eusebius, III, xxxvii.

[11] Cf. 1 Cor. 14.

[12] Acts 13:1.

[13] E.g., Agabus; Acts 11:28; 21:10.

[14] Acts 13:1.

[15] Didache, XV, 1.

[16] Ibid.

[17] Jacquier, La Doctrine des douze apôtres, p. 242.

[18] Cf. 1 Tim. 4:14.

[19] Cf. 1 Pet. 5:1-5.

[20] St. Ignatius, Ephesians, 4. On the important question of the distinction between the presbyterate and the episcopate, see Prat, art. "Evêques," in the Dict. de théol. The learned author proves: (1) that, from the very beginning, no trace is found of an "amorphous church"; for all the churches had chiefs, who are called sometimes "presiding officers" (1 Thess. 5:12; Rom. 12:8), sometimes "directors" (Heb. 13:7, 24; Acts 15:22), or "angels" (Apoc. 1:20), or "pastors" (Acts 20:28; 1 Pet. 5:2; Ephes. 4:11), but most often "overseers" or "elders" (presbyteroi); (2) that there was lack of uniformity in the organization of the primitive churches, at least until the death of the Apostles and the disappearance of the charisma; (3) that the episcopate is of Apostolic origin; as to this, no doubt can be entertained in the face of the testimony of St. Clement at Rome, St. Irenaeus at Lyons, Tertullian in Africa, and Clement of Alexandria. (Cf. Michiels, art. "Evêques," in the Dict. apol. de la foi catholique.)

 [21] Didache, XI, 1-12. Cf. Batiffol, Primitive Catholicism, pp. 109 f.

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On Near Death Experiences and Atheist Angst

Ascent to Heaven
Hieronymous Bosch (1450-1516)

A few years ago, I spent more than three months investigating the matter of Near Death Experiences (NDEs). I read and watched more than a hundred testimonials from people across the whole spectrum of religions, poured through the relevant scientific literature, and investigated ancient reports of similar phenomena, from the Tibetan Book of the Dead to Plato's Republic. I read both the older popular literature on the subject - like Dr. Raymond Moody's classic Life After Life - and the newer stuff - like Dr. Pim van Lommel's Consciousness Beyond Life. After all of this research, I came away thoroughly convinced that something is definitely happening to these people while they are, in every ordinary sense of the term, dead, i.e. flatline-unresponsive-no-measurable-brain-activity dead. That's also the current scientific consensus on the subject. What, exactly, they report of their experiences differs from case to case. But there are striking similarities found in nearly all NDEs. If you're interested to learn more about them, I recommend both of the above-mentioned books as highly accessible and widely available summaries of the data collected thus far. For my present purpose, however, I mention only three such similarities:

• a heightened sense of reality, i.e. that the 'other world' seems more real than this one, even after returning to life
• a feeling of timelessness, i.e. that mere seconds in this world are experienced as eons in the other
• a life-review, usually combined with a kind of personal judgment, which evokes strong emotional responses in the subject

Now, atheists and agnostics like to point out that NDEs do not prove the existence of the afterlife as it is generally conceived by the world's religions. For one thing, we can't say the person was truly dead for the simple reason that they were brought back to life. That is, they must have continued on in a state between life and death without crossing over permanently into the state of death. Thus, no NDE can relate what it is like to come back from final, irreversible death. For another, while there are certain elements universal to nearly all NDEs, there are also great differences, some of which seem to reflect cultural expectations. Thus, we have reason to suspect that such persons are not experiencing some objective, otherworldly reality, but rather a projection of the mind caught in the final throes of death.

Most apologists for the veracity of NDEs like to get into debates with atheists and agnostics, going over all the experimental and anecdotal data I mentioned above in order to make a credible case for the existence of the afterlife. I am not one of those apologists. To be perfectly frank, I don't look to NDEs for confirmation of what I know to be true with the certainty of faith in God's revelation, and I don't think you should, either, gentle reader. But that's also not why I find them so interesting. What I find interesting about them is how uncomfortable they can make atheists. And here's why:

Let's grant that NDEs are not experiences of the other side, and do not reflect an objective reality beyond the pale of this world. Let's grant that they are the product of brain chemistry alone, as every self-respecting atheist is bound to believe. What remains? 

An intense experience marked by a heightened sense of reality lasting for what seems to be an unlimited amount of time involving a review of all of one's past actions which evokes strong emotional responses in the subject.

It doesn't matter one whit that this could all be happening in the brain alone. What matters is that it happens at all - and that it happens to atheists, too. Even if the atheist doesn't believe in the afterlife now, he would believe it while he's approaching death; in fact, he would feel that it's more real than his experience of normal life. And even if the entire experience takes no more than a few seconds in our time, to him it will seem like it takes ages. Again, even if he denies the existence of an objective moral law now, he will nonetheless be compelled to experience all the joy as well as all the pain he caused others during his life. In other words, even if the atheist denies the existence of an afterlife, there's a statistically high probability* that he will nonetheless experience something that will be, for him, indistinguishable from it.

And that's enough to give any atheist pause for thought.

*Depending upon the study, between 18% and 30% of all people who return from the brink of death go on to report having experienced an NDE. It is uncertain as to whether this is because only 30% have the experience, or because only 30% remember it, or because only 30% are willing to share what they experienced.