Best response so far - Bishop Robert Morlino of Madison - must read
Bishop Nickless's response
Pope Francis's strongly worded "Letter to the People of God" (praying that his actions in the near future will match these words)
Cardinal DiNardo's response as head of USCCB (praying that these reforms can be carried through effectively, but also spiritually and not just legalistically)
NCRegister seems to be keeping their roundup mostly current, too.
UPDATE - 8/27 - Archbishop and retired US Nuncio Vigano published a scathing summary (translation, in full) of what he claims to know and surmise about the highest levels in the Church covering up sexual abuse, not excluding even Pope Francis (in relation to the McGarrick scandal) . If true, this information suggests that numerous resignations-in-disgrace could be the most positive outcome still open. Vigorous attempts at character assassination of Vigano began immediately (which perhaps lends credence to his allergations), while Cardinal Burke (and a very few others, so far) are calling for independent investigation to establish the truth. Pope Francis, incredibly, completely dropped the ball in responding to questions about the Vigano letter during his press conference yesterday.
Information, resources, and community building for all the members of the Deacon Community of the Roman Catholic Diocese of Sioux City. Thoughts, Catholic commentary, and occasional homilies from Deacon David.
Showing posts with label Pope Francis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pope Francis. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 21, 2018
Monday, August 28, 2017
Pope Francis on "irreversible" liturgical reform
Last week, Pope Francis gave a short talk to a gathering of Italian liturgists. (The Vatican website has posted the text of the speech in Italian only, so far.)
(Three excellent takes on this talk are Fr. Hunwicke's, Fr. Zuhlsdorf's, and Dr. Ed Peter's.)
Much of what the Holy Father said is unexceptional, even inspiring. He began with a brief summary of the process of liturgical reform, noting such luminaries as Pius X, Pius XII and the 1947 encyclical Mediator Dei (a marvelous and inspiring work), and the sacred consitution on the liturgy of the Second Vatican Council, Sacrosanctum Concilium. And he concluded with some thoughts about the "vivifying" character of the liturgy, particularly of the Holy Mass, noting especially (1) our Eucharistic participation in Christ's life-giving victory over sin and death, (2) the unity of the Church which flows from the sacraments (uniting peoples with peoples, and laity with clergy, and whole Church with Christ her Head), and (3) the importance of "mystagogical catechesis" (as of the Fathers, he noted) for revealing and sustaining our personal and corporate relationship with Christ. All this was quite good.
And yet, as he too often does, Pope Francis managed to say something that sounded immensely important, but with a great degree of ambiguity and confusion.
Following his summary of Sacrosanctum Concilium, he talked about the implementation of the liturgical reforms by Pope Paul VI. He said, "It's not enough to reform the books, in order to renew the (liturgical) mentality." He twice insisted on the identity (!!) of the enacted reforms with the intentions of the Council Fathers and text of SC. And he stated that "...we can affirm with security and magisterial authority that the litugical reform is irreversible."
I agree that the liturgical mentality in the Church in much of the 19th and 20th centuries needed to be renewed. Under the cultural pressures of the Revolution(s) and the Enlightenment, the mentality of the Church became constricted, in several areas. Low Mass became the norm, rather than High Mass; minor orders fell into disuse in nearly all parishes; Gregorian chant became ossified, and congregations were little able to sing their parts; and so on. Against these trends, the Liturgical Movement was attempting precisely to renew the Church's culture of worship, starting with the refounding of the great abbey of Solemnes after its destruction during the French Revolution, and the renewal of its monastic liturgy. It slowly gained momentum before Vatican II.
It's impossible, however, not to notice that much (not all, certainly, but much) of the implementation of the postconciliar reforms changed the nature and the direction of that Movement. It's also impossible not to notice that, on several significant points, the implementation of the reforms did or attempted things not called for in SC, and also did or attempted things contrary to what SC called for. The result has not been a renewal of a vital litugical mentality, but the further erosion of what vitality remains. Where immediately before the Council, liturgy was very often done hastily, carelessly (of the Latin, of the reverence expected, etc), and therefore sloppily, immediately after the implementation of reforms, liturgy came to be done "experimentally," iconclastically, "self-referentially" (ironically, one of Pope Francis's more significant criticisms of the modern Church), and still more sloppily. The "Low Mass" mentality that prevailed was not renewed, it was cemented, and the spirit of modern lawlessness was added to it.
Pope Benedict XVI understood these trends profoundly. He grasped, and taught repeatedly, both that the practical implementation of the Council's vision of liturgical renewal had failed on several points, and needed to be very carefully reviewed, reconsidered, and corrected (this is often dubbed "the reform of the reform"), and that the Church will never be able to evangelize effectively in the modern world, with banal liturgy (!!!). On the first point, he led by example, and also gave the Church the gift of Summorum Pontificum, not out of a sense of nostalgia, but as a "restart" of the intended renewal. If we can remember the right way to undertake the liturgy in the "extraordinary form" -- that is, reverently, in union with Tradition and with the angelic, Heavenly liturgy, and in a manner that elevates hearts and minds to God -- then we can apply that to the "ordinary form," and find or develop the intended renewal there. On the second point, he preached loudly and incessantly about worldly banality as the prototypical illness of modernity, and that the medicine to cure it is true, deep, personal encounter with Christ, divine Love personified - best found in a vital, authentic, devoutly Catholic worship.
It is, therefore, very difficult to understand quite what the Holy Father means by asserting "irreversibility." It seems that the statement must either be a tautology, or else factually false.
Like so much else in the contemporary Church, that falsity is directly the fruit of the poor practical implementation of the desired reforms of SC. Fortunately, a good part of that needed "reform of the reform" has already begun, at least in some places; for example, a return to Gregorian chant (sometimes with classical Latin pieces, but even more so with new, vernacular plain-chant); a rejection of ugly, polyester vestments and burlap banners, and a retrieval of more beautiful and fitting vestments, church adornment, etc; a rejection of side-lining Christ in the tabernacle, and a return to "front and center" placement; the related re-emergence of Adoration and similar devotions; and so on. None of this means a rejection of Vatican II's liturgical reform and renewal. It _is_ the renewal. And, God willing, it will indeed prove "irreversible."
(Three excellent takes on this talk are Fr. Hunwicke's, Fr. Zuhlsdorf's, and Dr. Ed Peter's.)
Much of what the Holy Father said is unexceptional, even inspiring. He began with a brief summary of the process of liturgical reform, noting such luminaries as Pius X, Pius XII and the 1947 encyclical Mediator Dei (a marvelous and inspiring work), and the sacred consitution on the liturgy of the Second Vatican Council, Sacrosanctum Concilium. And he concluded with some thoughts about the "vivifying" character of the liturgy, particularly of the Holy Mass, noting especially (1) our Eucharistic participation in Christ's life-giving victory over sin and death, (2) the unity of the Church which flows from the sacraments (uniting peoples with peoples, and laity with clergy, and whole Church with Christ her Head), and (3) the importance of "mystagogical catechesis" (as of the Fathers, he noted) for revealing and sustaining our personal and corporate relationship with Christ. All this was quite good.
And yet, as he too often does, Pope Francis managed to say something that sounded immensely important, but with a great degree of ambiguity and confusion.
Following his summary of Sacrosanctum Concilium, he talked about the implementation of the liturgical reforms by Pope Paul VI. He said, "It's not enough to reform the books, in order to renew the (liturgical) mentality." He twice insisted on the identity (!!) of the enacted reforms with the intentions of the Council Fathers and text of SC. And he stated that "...we can affirm with security and magisterial authority that the litugical reform is irreversible."
I agree that the liturgical mentality in the Church in much of the 19th and 20th centuries needed to be renewed. Under the cultural pressures of the Revolution(s) and the Enlightenment, the mentality of the Church became constricted, in several areas. Low Mass became the norm, rather than High Mass; minor orders fell into disuse in nearly all parishes; Gregorian chant became ossified, and congregations were little able to sing their parts; and so on. Against these trends, the Liturgical Movement was attempting precisely to renew the Church's culture of worship, starting with the refounding of the great abbey of Solemnes after its destruction during the French Revolution, and the renewal of its monastic liturgy. It slowly gained momentum before Vatican II.
It's impossible, however, not to notice that much (not all, certainly, but much) of the implementation of the postconciliar reforms changed the nature and the direction of that Movement. It's also impossible not to notice that, on several significant points, the implementation of the reforms did or attempted things not called for in SC, and also did or attempted things contrary to what SC called for. The result has not been a renewal of a vital litugical mentality, but the further erosion of what vitality remains. Where immediately before the Council, liturgy was very often done hastily, carelessly (of the Latin, of the reverence expected, etc), and therefore sloppily, immediately after the implementation of reforms, liturgy came to be done "experimentally," iconclastically, "self-referentially" (ironically, one of Pope Francis's more significant criticisms of the modern Church), and still more sloppily. The "Low Mass" mentality that prevailed was not renewed, it was cemented, and the spirit of modern lawlessness was added to it.
Pope Benedict XVI understood these trends profoundly. He grasped, and taught repeatedly, both that the practical implementation of the Council's vision of liturgical renewal had failed on several points, and needed to be very carefully reviewed, reconsidered, and corrected (this is often dubbed "the reform of the reform"), and that the Church will never be able to evangelize effectively in the modern world, with banal liturgy (!!!). On the first point, he led by example, and also gave the Church the gift of Summorum Pontificum, not out of a sense of nostalgia, but as a "restart" of the intended renewal. If we can remember the right way to undertake the liturgy in the "extraordinary form" -- that is, reverently, in union with Tradition and with the angelic, Heavenly liturgy, and in a manner that elevates hearts and minds to God -- then we can apply that to the "ordinary form," and find or develop the intended renewal there. On the second point, he preached loudly and incessantly about worldly banality as the prototypical illness of modernity, and that the medicine to cure it is true, deep, personal encounter with Christ, divine Love personified - best found in a vital, authentic, devoutly Catholic worship.
It is, therefore, very difficult to understand quite what the Holy Father means by asserting "irreversibility." It seems that the statement must either be a tautology, or else factually false.
Like so much else in the contemporary Church, that falsity is directly the fruit of the poor practical implementation of the desired reforms of SC. Fortunately, a good part of that needed "reform of the reform" has already begun, at least in some places; for example, a return to Gregorian chant (sometimes with classical Latin pieces, but even more so with new, vernacular plain-chant); a rejection of ugly, polyester vestments and burlap banners, and a retrieval of more beautiful and fitting vestments, church adornment, etc; a rejection of side-lining Christ in the tabernacle, and a return to "front and center" placement; the related re-emergence of Adoration and similar devotions; and so on. None of this means a rejection of Vatican II's liturgical reform and renewal. It _is_ the renewal. And, God willing, it will indeed prove "irreversible."
Wednesday, December 7, 2016
Thoughts on "rigidity" and orthodoxy
Twice in as many months (e.g., here and here), Pope Francis has inveighed against "rigid" believers. He uses very negative language against this perceived phenomenon: “They appear good because they follow the Law; but behind, there is something that does not make them good. Either they're bad, hypocrites, or they are sick. They suffer!” Such people are "enslaved," they "lead a double life." They exhibit the opposite of the beatitudes: "Rigidity is not a gift of God. Meekness is; goodness is; benevolence is; forgiveness is. But rigidity isn’t!" He attaches the same label and language to those who know, love, and respect the traditional liturgy: "Pope Francis told Father Spadaro he wonders why some young people, who were not raised with the old Latin Mass, nevertheless prefer it. 'And I ask myself: Why so much rigidity? Dig, dig, this rigidity always hides something, insecurity or even something else. Rigidity is defensive. True love is not rigid.'"
Certainly, the temptation to this sort of "pharisaical" attitude exists in the Church. It is something always to be guarded against. Because of our sacramental forms and theology, it is easy at times to get caught up in the details of the liturgy, and miss the forest (interior and spiritual realities) for the trees (exterior and physical forms, words, symbols). Likewise with the nuances of our moral theology. One can, in this sense, fall into "rigidity." And it is true that rigidity is not loving, and that rigidity resists Christ and grace.
But there is another sort of "rigidity" not often adverted to, although it appears to be far more common, currently. It consists in putting one's own will before God's, insisting that one is right while Tradition, the Church, the Bible, and God Himself must be wrong. St. James says, "Submit yourself to God... If you judge the law, you are not subject to the law." (Jms 4:7, 11). Those who are rigid in this sense judge the law of faith, and do not submit to God in their hearts.
The path of faith always involves conversion. After our initial conversion (which might be as an infant or child in Baptism), we continue to experience "ongoing conversion," as we strive over our whole life to conform our hearts and minds, our loves and desires, to those of Christ. To be united with Christ in this conformity, "putting on the mind of Christ" (Rom 2:12, etc), is precisely what it means to live as a Christian.
The heart experiencing conversion must be humble. It must recognize and accept (even when there is struggle actually to do - concupiscence is a real thing) that what the believer desires, of himself, is likely not what God desires for him, and therefore that one must learn to desire instead what God desires. This softness and pliability of the heart in respect to God's Law, Revelation, commandments and precepts, personal vocation, moral law, and Tradition is properly understood as a sign of strong faith. As the Rule of St. Benedict says in its very first words, "Listen carefully, my son, to the Master's instructions, and attend to them with the ear of your heart... The labor of obedience will bring you back to Him from whom you have drifted by the sloth of disobedience." This is the opposite of rigidity. (See e.g. the parable of the Pharisee and the publican, Lk 18:9-14.)
Rigidity, then, is not only clinging to the exterior forms of religion, which Pope Francis (rightly) decries. The willful rejection of Tradition is equally a form of rigidity (see e.g. Dei Verbum #7-8, etc). It is a hardness of heart with respect to God's calling the believer. It is spiritual pride, asserting in effect that this generation (or even this individual!) knows better what is good for souls than all prior generations, than all prior saints, doctors, mystics of the Church. I don't think it's too strong to say that there's more than a touch of idolatry, of self-worship, in this attitude. (It remains true that much of the rejection and loss of Tradition and faith in the last century is not willful, but from ignorance and weakness.)
Thus, one might correctly say: The idea that external or physical forms (e.g., the construction of a church, the placement of the Tabernacle, the beauty of vestments and statues, etc) don't matter to internal or spiritual realities (faith, union with God, repentance and conversion) is false (e.g. Sacrosanctum Concilium #8, 112-3, 122-5, etc). To cling to this idea in the face of Tradition and correction is to be rigid.
Idem: The idea that Christ did not and does not will the seven Sacraments for the Church, as the primary means of salvific grace for believers, is false (e.g. SC #5-8, Lumen Gentium #7, 11, etc). To cling stubbornly to the opposite idea, that we can meddle with the Sacraments or deny their efficacy, in the face of Tradition and correction, is to be rigid.
Idem: The ideas of moral relativism and religious indifferentism are false (e.g. Dominus Iesus, Fides et Ratio, etc). To insist, in the face of Tradition and correction, that they are true, is to be rigid.
And so forth.... In short, modernism is rigid, but Tradition properly received and loved ("the living faith of the dead," as one great Church historian noted) is life with Christ.
Certainly, the temptation to this sort of "pharisaical" attitude exists in the Church. It is something always to be guarded against. Because of our sacramental forms and theology, it is easy at times to get caught up in the details of the liturgy, and miss the forest (interior and spiritual realities) for the trees (exterior and physical forms, words, symbols). Likewise with the nuances of our moral theology. One can, in this sense, fall into "rigidity." And it is true that rigidity is not loving, and that rigidity resists Christ and grace.
But there is another sort of "rigidity" not often adverted to, although it appears to be far more common, currently. It consists in putting one's own will before God's, insisting that one is right while Tradition, the Church, the Bible, and God Himself must be wrong. St. James says, "Submit yourself to God... If you judge the law, you are not subject to the law." (Jms 4:7, 11). Those who are rigid in this sense judge the law of faith, and do not submit to God in their hearts.
The path of faith always involves conversion. After our initial conversion (which might be as an infant or child in Baptism), we continue to experience "ongoing conversion," as we strive over our whole life to conform our hearts and minds, our loves and desires, to those of Christ. To be united with Christ in this conformity, "putting on the mind of Christ" (Rom 2:12, etc), is precisely what it means to live as a Christian.
The heart experiencing conversion must be humble. It must recognize and accept (even when there is struggle actually to do - concupiscence is a real thing) that what the believer desires, of himself, is likely not what God desires for him, and therefore that one must learn to desire instead what God desires. This softness and pliability of the heart in respect to God's Law, Revelation, commandments and precepts, personal vocation, moral law, and Tradition is properly understood as a sign of strong faith. As the Rule of St. Benedict says in its very first words, "Listen carefully, my son, to the Master's instructions, and attend to them with the ear of your heart... The labor of obedience will bring you back to Him from whom you have drifted by the sloth of disobedience." This is the opposite of rigidity. (See e.g. the parable of the Pharisee and the publican, Lk 18:9-14.)
Rigidity, then, is not only clinging to the exterior forms of religion, which Pope Francis (rightly) decries. The willful rejection of Tradition is equally a form of rigidity (see e.g. Dei Verbum #7-8, etc). It is a hardness of heart with respect to God's calling the believer. It is spiritual pride, asserting in effect that this generation (or even this individual!) knows better what is good for souls than all prior generations, than all prior saints, doctors, mystics of the Church. I don't think it's too strong to say that there's more than a touch of idolatry, of self-worship, in this attitude. (It remains true that much of the rejection and loss of Tradition and faith in the last century is not willful, but from ignorance and weakness.)
Thus, one might correctly say: The idea that external or physical forms (e.g., the construction of a church, the placement of the Tabernacle, the beauty of vestments and statues, etc) don't matter to internal or spiritual realities (faith, union with God, repentance and conversion) is false (e.g. Sacrosanctum Concilium #8, 112-3, 122-5, etc). To cling to this idea in the face of Tradition and correction is to be rigid.
Idem: The idea that Christ did not and does not will the seven Sacraments for the Church, as the primary means of salvific grace for believers, is false (e.g. SC #5-8, Lumen Gentium #7, 11, etc). To cling stubbornly to the opposite idea, that we can meddle with the Sacraments or deny their efficacy, in the face of Tradition and correction, is to be rigid.
Idem: The ideas of moral relativism and religious indifferentism are false (e.g. Dominus Iesus, Fides et Ratio, etc). To insist, in the face of Tradition and correction, that they are true, is to be rigid.
And so forth.... In short, modernism is rigid, but Tradition properly received and loved ("the living faith of the dead," as one great Church historian noted) is life with Christ.
Friday, November 20, 2015
Pope Francis addresses Deacons at International Deacon Centre
dear Brothers in the Presbyterate and Episcopate,
dear wives of deacons,
dear participants in the Jubilee of the International Diaconate Centre,
| www.diaconia-idc.org |
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| St Stephen the Protomartyr exercising the original diaconate www.catholicsaints.info |
I thank you from the bottom of my heart for this commitment. At the same time I ask you to accompany me and my ministry with prayer. I also promise to take your concerns to the Lord and cordially impart to you my Apostolic Blessing.
From the Vatican, on 20 October 2015
FRANCIS
Thursday, September 24, 2015
Pope Francis in America - Homily, Midday Prayer with the Bishops, 9/23
This is, I think, the clearest, most comprehensive articulation that I've seen, of what Pope Francis is trying to do as Pope. Some of his actions and words have, at times, been seen with confusion and ambiguity. His "style" can be abrupt and imprecise, especially in comparison with his two immediate predecessors. But here, there is nothing unclear or objectionable in what he's laying out, and there is a full embrace of Tradition, just as I also embrace, believe, and strive to act. Especially, his words here are full of charity and joy, as he invites his brother bishops (and, through them, all of us) again to work with him in the vineyard of Christ. Read the whole thing at the above link.
Some highlights:
The heart of the Pope expands to include everyone. To testify to the immensity of God’s love is the heart of the mission entrusted to the Successor of Peter, the Vicar of the One who on the cross embraced the whole of mankind. May no member of Christ’s Body and the American people feel excluded from the Pope’s embrace. Wherever the name of Jesus is spoken, may the Pope’s voice also be heard to affirm that: “He is the Savior”! From your great coastal cities to the plains of the Midwest, from the deep South to the far reaches of the West, wherever your people gather in the Eucharistic assembly, may the Pope be not simply a name but a felt presence, sustaining the fervent plea of the Bride: “Come, Lord!” Whenever a hand reaches out to do good or to show the love of Christ, to dry a tear or bring comfort to the lonely, to show the way to one who is lost or to console a broken heart, to help the fallen or to teach those thirsting for truth, to forgive or to offer a new start in God… know that the Pope is at your side, the Pope supports you. He puts his hand on your own, a hand wrinkled with age, but by God’s grace still able to support and encourage.
Some highlights:
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| www.gettyimages.com |
I speak to you as the Bishop of Rome, called by God in old age, and from a land which is also American, to watch over the unity of the universal Church and to encourage in charity the journey of all the particular Churches toward ever greater knowledge, faith and love of Christ. Reading over your names, looking at your faces, knowing the extent of your churchmanship and conscious of the devotion which you have always shown for the Successor of Peter, I must tell you that I do not feel a stranger in your midst. I am a native of a land which is also vast, with great open ranges, a land which, like your own, received the faith from itinerant missionaries. I too know how hard it is to sow the Gospel among people from different worlds, with hearts often hardened by the trials of a lengthy journey. Nor am I unaware of the efforts made over the years to build up the Church amid the prairies, mountains, cities and suburbs of a frequently inhospitable land, where frontiers are always provisional and easy answers do not always work. What does work is the combination of the epic struggle of the pioneers and the homely wisdom and endurance of the settlers. As one of your poets has put it, “strong and tireless wings” combined with the wisdom of one who “knows the mountains”.
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| www.gettyimages.com |
We are bishops of the Church, shepherds appointed by God to feed his flock. Our greatest joy is to be shepherds, and only shepherds, pastors with undivided hearts and selfless devotion. We need to preserve this joy and never let ourselves be robbed of it. The evil one roars like a lion, anxious to devour it, wearing us down in our resolve to be all that we are called to be, not for ourselves but in gift and service to the “Shepherd of our souls” (1 Pet 2:25). The heart of our identity is to be sought in constant prayer, in preaching (Acts 6:4) and in shepherding the flock entrusted to our care (Jn 21:15-17; Acts 20:28-31). Ours must not be just any kind of prayer, but familiar union with Christ, in which we daily encounter his gaze and sense that he is asking us the question: “Who is my mother? Who are my brothers?” (Mk 3:31-34). One in which we can calmly reply: “Lord, here is your mother, here are your brothers! I hand them over to you; they are the ones whom you entrusted to me”. Such trusting union with Christ is what nourishes the life of a pastor.
The great mission which the Lord gives us is one which we carry out in communion, collegially. The world is already so torn and divided, brokenness is now everywhere. Consequently, the Church, “the seamless garment of the Lord” cannot allow herself to be rent, broken or fought over. Our mission as bishops is first and foremost to solidify unity, a unity whose content is defined by the Word of God and the one Bread of Heaven. With these two realities each of the Churches entrusted to us remains Catholic, because open to, and in communion with, all the particular Churches and with the Church of Rome which “presides in charity”. It is imperative, therefore, to watch over that unity, to safeguard it, to promote it and to bear witness to it as a sign and instrument which, beyond every barrier, unites nations, races, classes and generations.
Labels:
Catholic identity,
Catholic joy,
charity,
Pope Francis,
Tradition
Friday, January 30, 2015
Cardinal Rodriguez Maradiaga, "Church of Mercy of Pope Francis," response in several parts - Part Four (and last)
This continues my explication and response to Cardinal Rodriguez Maradiaga's essay and talk, "The Church of Mercy of Pope Francis." Previous parts are here and here and here.
“The Church of Mercy with Pope Francis” (cont'd)
“The Church of Mercy with Pope Francis” (cont'd)
3. To Bear Witness to
God’s Mercy is to Commit to Man
The best testimony of charity and mercy is found especially
in the saints, in their high level of Christian life and in the maturity of the
live idea of God [True; but, their witness is also
witness to “traditional” spirituality, and the apostolic and sacramental order
inherent in the Church. To invoke them
is to defend that “traditional” spirituality which he seems want to change, and
thus undermines his putative argument.]. The God loved and worshiped by
saints reveals Himself gradually along with the fidelity and contemplative
growth of the believer [“no one knows who the Son is except the Father, or who
the Father is except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.”
(Luke 10: 22)].
The biblical God is not the God of Theodicy or of pure
rationality [Not sure what he means by this. Does he mean this in a “traditional” way,
namely, that, while our reason applied to the created world can find evidence
that reveals God’s nature as Creator, reason alone cannot know God without the
gift of faith? Or does he mean something
else, such as that “traditional” theology (often disparagingly called
“onto-theology” should be rejected as “triumphalist” and “domesticating” of
God?]: it is a God that has to be found, that has to be received as a
gift and as a revelation. It is a different God… The Christian God is not
exactly the God of the philosophers, of the logic and of the Theists. [Augustine and Aquinas, e.g., would certainly agree with
this.] Just believing in God does
not make you a Christian. [“Faith without works is
dead.”] A Christian is someone
who has discovered the biblical God; the God of Abraham, of Moses, of the
Prophets, that revealed Himself in plenitude in the God of Jesus. [I assume he does not mean to imply, by the parallelism (God
of Abraham = God of Moses = God of Jesus), that Jesus is not God.] Through the history of Salvation,
there is a gradual revelation of the face of the true and only God [i.e., Jesus Christ, true God and true man, who gave us the
Church and the Sacraments as the primary means of salvation, and sends thereby
the Holy Spirit to unite us to Himself and the Father]. The way of the
Church’s pastoral conversion today is to guide individuals and cultures through
that gradual revelation, though in different contexts and experiences. [This is a false dichotomy, if meant in contradistinction to
some “traditional” method of pastoral conversion, imagined not to introduce to others that same face of God in Jesus Christ
through appropriate contexts and experiences.]
Nothing reveals God more than love. Therefore, Pope Francis says
(speech of November 14, 2013) that, “The Church’s primary task is to bear
witness to the mercy of God and to encourage generous reactions of solidarity
in order to open a future of hope. For where hope increases, energy and
commitment to building a more human and just social order also grows, and new
possibilities for sustainable and healthy development emerge.”
3.1 Full-Time
Christians
In the Family Synod (October 2014) something notable
happened for the first time: [What he describes here is
exactly what Pope Benedict described having happened at Vatican II (e.g.,
again, the 2005 Christmas address, and elsewhere). So this dichotomy of “two synods” is hardly
the “first time.” Is he ignorant or
forgetful of Pope Benedict’s remarks, or is he implicitly contradicting and
rejecting them?] There were like
two Synods because outside the precinct where the Synod Fathers were gathered,
there was a media Synod that denoted a perverse intention to confuse opinions,
invent answers, imagine solutions and exaggerate positions of those of us
gathered there; instead, inside the working room a charismatic, serene,
cordial, filled-with-unction-and-faith synod was taking place, seeking to agree
and to answer the essential issues of family and marriage.
Many [in the false, media synod] identified
as the unique and fundamental topic, issues that were merely secondary. For
example, we did not talk only about giving “communion” to re-married Christians
—that was a collateral argument, it was never essential. What was really said,
and I repeat and emphasize, is that the realities of dissolved and rebuilt
families are not an impediment to live and participate in the abundant life of
the Church; that the “sacramental communion” is not the only way to vitally
participate in the pastoral dynamic of the parish community and that every
Christian couple that seeks God will find Him because he allows Himself to be
found and that every re-married Christian can be a full-time Christian, has a
right to be happy, and his house can become also a place where the love of God
is born witness. [Well, yes, but... this should not be
taken in a sense which downplays the uniqueness of the Eucharist. There are many reasons why one might refrain
from approaching Holy Communion at any given time, and such experiences indeed
do not prevent the love of God from indwelling in us; but at the same time, it
remains true that participation in the Holy Eucharist is the “source and
summit,” and therefore the ideal, of the Christian life, toward which we are
meant to strive. If it lies within our
power to remove an obstacle to our reception of Holy Communion, and we refuse
to do so, are we not rejecting thereby the fullness of God’s love for us? We must not take a complacent or minimalist
attitude about our total union with Christ.]
For me, there is no “place in the basement” of the Church
for Catholics that have wanted to rebuild their lives having remarried, though
they cannot receive the Sacrament of Communion; there is no corner in attic for
migrants that do not have documents in order and want to prepare their children
in the sacraments of Christian Initiation; there is no special window in Heaven
to assist those who have left the Catholic Church and have gone to other places
seeking the warmth, refuge and respect that their mother has not been able to
provide. [I think this is basically correct (Mt 23:4,
Col 3:13, Eph 4:2).]
All these are challenges to our conscience and a strong and
tough demand to our parish practices that are so rigid and narrow-minded. [Indeed, it is possible that we fail to live up to these high
standards of radical love, and that we fail to evangelize and to foster faith
in others. And some of the ways in which
we can so fail might well be called “rigid” or “narrow-minded.” However, if he means here to identify “rigid
and narrow-minded” with “traditionalist,” as above, then he’s going too far.] That
is why the Pope said to be careful not to turn the parish and episcopal offices
into “customs.” And he is completely right. (Santa Marta, May 25, 2013). To
remember the whole message, I quote: “We are many times ‘controllers of faith,’
instead of becoming ‘facilitators’ of the faith of the people,” lamented the
Pope during his daily mass at Santa Marta’s Guest House in the Vatican. In his
homily that was broadcasted by Vatican Radio, the Argentine Pope mentioned a
priest who refused to baptize the son of a single mother, “this girl who had
the courage to carry her pregnancy (…) and what does she find? A closed door,”
affirmed the Pope. [We need to know more about this
anecdote before we can conclude that this priest acted “rigidly” or
“narrow-mindedly.” Just by itself, the
quote does not demonstrate what he claims.]
Nobody is excluded from the Church of Christ. [True, but many people exclude themselves by rejecting God’s
mercy, love, and grace.] There is
a place for everybody, for the migrants, for those who one day abandoned the
Church but come back convinced that they can stay forever, for those
married-divorced-remarried, for the poor, for everybody. Within these
categories fall those that Francis calls “the least”, when he encourages: “The
Church must step outside herself. To go where? To the outskirts of existence,
whatever they may be. If we step outside ourselves we find poverty. We cannot
put up with this! We cannot become starched Christians, those over-educated
Christians who speak of theological matters as they calmly sip their tea. [Another false dichotomy.
Although his exhortation to embrace the mission is sound, the
contrasting of “education” with “courage” is belied by, say, St. Dominic,
etc.] No! We must become
courageous Christians and go in search of the people who are the very flesh of
Christ, those who are the flesh of Christ! (Vigil of Pentecost, May 18, 2013).
3.2 The Culture of
Good
The Pope’s words sounded strong when he said, “Be men and
women with others and for others: true champions at the service of others”
(December 2, 2013). [Another “traditional”
exhortation.] Following this, the
Holy Father tells us something fundamental, three points that I want to share
with you today to finish my talk here: [First point:
importance of public Christian witness to mercy, love, hope] “In your
society, which is deeply marked by secularization, I encourage you also to be
present in the public debate, in all the areas where man is at issue, to make
God’s mercy and his tenderness for every creature visible.” Yes, dear Friends,
let it be a task and commitment for you to work courageously and heroically
“where man is at issue.” Only in that manner will we bear witness of God’s
mercy, the mercy that is love —and love that begins at home. [His three points here returns to the tenor of Part I, above,
which seems quite orthodox, but now there is a deep, ambiguous tension in his
words. Does he mean this conclusion in a
“traditional” way, with the apostolic and sacramental commitments thus implied,
or is he evoking some “new” ecclesial vision and order?]
[Second point: importance of strong
spiritual foundations] The incarnate aspect of spirituality, turning
life into a transcendental humanism according to the Spirit, is what lays the
foundation for the Christian mystic. [Are we to take
this in continuity or in rupture with the great spiritual
masters?] It is focused on the
search for God through Jesus, but also focused on man and the search for
fraternal love. It lives in the hope that the Kingdom will have no end but it
centers completely on the tasks of a Kingdom in history and in society. It
receives faith as a gift from God, irrepressible to any human experience, but
it knows that faith takes diverse shapes [“unity in
diversity” has always been acceptable; but there are limits, since some diversities do indeed break the
unity] and demands according to the cultures, the challenges of society
and the individual commitment, and that all human or Christian commitment must
also be a place of the experience of God.
[Third point: priority of the
“preferential option for the poor”] Since certainly, the privileged
“place” in which Christ’s Mercy becomes incarnate and becomes practice is in
the love for the brothers and sisters, and in the preferential love for the
poor and the suffering. The temporal reality that summarizes all the
incarnations of the mystic, all the realism of the Christian spirit, and that
gathers all the demands of the practice of the faith and love, is the brother,
is the poor. [Are we meant to take this in continuity
with the “traditional” understanding of the Great Commandment, or as a “new”
understanding? How does this
understanding of love of neighbor relate to the traditional understanding of
the love of God?] The God hiding
in the faces of our brothers is the supreme experience of incarnation and to
practice mercy is its definitive stamp because “mercy is the true force that
can save man and the world” (September 15, 2013). [Again,
continuity or rupture?]
[Overall, this essay is pretty
forceful and coherent, but it has a significant issue in the middle. Part I and the first two sections of Part 2
are clear and reasonable. He does not
directly contradict anything in the Church’s traditional understanding of
Scripture, Tradition, mission, vocation, or evangelization. However, one must supply the full
understanding of these topics. The absence
of any mention of the place of the Sacraments becomes striking in the middle of
the essay. In this sense, in the last
two sections of Part 2 (2.3 and 2.4), when dealing explicitly with the
“traditional” Church and the changes following Vatican II, he seems strongly to
take the position of the “hermeneutic of rupture,” rejected by Pope Benedict
XVI (and Pope St. John Paul II). His
language is vague and his meanings remain rather uncertain. It is difficult to understand what he could
mean if his vision is not essentially that of the hermeneutic of rupture, but
it is also difficult to know clearly what he means even within that point of
view. His arguments in this section
remain unconvincing, especially the flawed argument from authority. In the final section of the essay (Part 3),
his failure to mention the sacramental economy as the primary avenue of mercy
for the Church and the world in the beginning of the essay, along with the
appearance of taking the hermeneutic-of-rupture position in the middle of the
essay, introduces a devastating ambiguity into his conclusions. The reader no longer knows how to understand
what is being put forth. The language
and content seem to hew close to the Church’s proper understanding of the
topics at issue, but we cannot be certain that he means the same things by
these same words.
The best reading of the essay, then,
I would suggest, is to set aside the unconvincing middle section, and to
embrace the hermeneutic of continuity at least implicitly taken in the beginning. By this reading, the conclusion becomes a
straightforward, fairly strong and urgent, exhortation to deepen our missionary
zeal, and to work more to overcome the various obstacles to the spread of the
Gospel that our own weakness, sins, and particular historical/cultural blind
spots might impose.]
Thursday, January 29, 2015
Cardinal Rodriguez Maradiaga, "Church of Mercy of Pope Francis," response in several parts - Part Three
This continues my explication and response to Cardinal Rodriguez Maradiaga's essay and talk, "The Church of Mercy of Pope Francis." Previous parts are here and here.
“The Church of Mercy with Pope Francis” (cont'd)
“The Church of Mercy with Pope Francis” (cont'd)
2.3. The Finish
Point: The Church of Mercy
We walk as Church towards a deep and global renovation. [I think “renewal” is what he means.] For this renovation to be sincerely
Catholic, it must encompass all of the historical dimensions of the Church.
Specifically, there is no true ecclesial renovation without
a transformation of the institutions [Here he begins to
say things that seem to contradict what he has already established. Especially, it’s not at all clear what it
might mean to “transform” the essential institutions of the Church – namely,
the hierarchical-apostolic order, the organization into dioceses/parishes/religious
houses, and all that serves the sacramental and pastoral care of souls – in any
sense that would remain “Catholic.”]; of the quality and focus of the
activities; of the mystic and the spiritual. Usually, renovation begins with
pastoral activities. For it is there where the inconsistencies of a certain
“model” of the Church and reality are primarily experienced. The missionaries,
the evangelists on the “margins” of the Church, are the first ones to notice
the insufficiency of the “traditional” ways of action; the pastoral criticism
begins with the experience of the mission in the “peripheries.” Changes and
adjustments begin there. [This, too, is curious,
because the “margins” of the Church (Asia, Africa, the pro-life movement, the
pro-traditional-liturgy movement, etc.) seem quite consistently to want
something much different than this next paragraph calls for:]
After Vatican Council II, the methods and content of
evangelization and Christian education change [not
always for the better]. The liturgy changes: local languages are adopted,
some rituals and symbols change, measurements are taken for a greater
participation, etc. The missionary perspective changes: the missionary must
know the culture, the human situation; the missionary must establish an
evangelizing dialogue with those realities. “Social action” changes, it is no
longer just charity and development services but also struggle for justice,
human rights and liberation… [Some notable false
dichotomies in here. One thinks, e.g., of the first generation of Jesuit
missionaries in Asia in the 16th century, of whom it certainly could
not be said that they did not learn and value the culture, the language, the
people, etc.; nor is “the struggle for justice, human rights, and liberation” a
new thing in the Church in the later 20th century. But since these efforts have always been
there, too, this paragraph implies either a repudiation of the Church before
Vatican II, or a confusion about what the Church did for its mission in
previous generations. In either case, it
is quite superficial and misleading to present it in this manner.]
For Christian coherency, certain institutional and
organizational changes are contemplated simultaneously: new functions require
new suitable institutions. [Again, it’s not at all
clear what “new functions” he means.]
The Council propelled institutional renovations, following
the logic of the Spirit. [Note the dangerous
implication that the Church before the Council was not following the same
logic.] These reforms encompass
all levels of the ecclesial organization: the religious congregations or
missionary societies —whose “Chapters of Renovation” multiply— the diocesan and
Vatican Curia, Episcopal Conferences, the Synods, the parishes, the pastoral
areas, the presbyteries, the lay apostolic institutions, the teaching of
theology, the seminaries, the catholic schools… New institutions for missionary
dialogue emerge: ecumenism, Jews, other religions… Everything in the Church
changes consistent with a renewed pastoral model. [Exaggeration
for effect? Clearly, not everything in the Church changes. But it’s important to note, I think, what
he’s eliding here by implication, namely, the apostolic and sacramental order
labelled “Tradition.” This therefore could be taken to contradict what he
sketched out in Part I, above.]
Maybe some thought that the Church renovation was only that.
But the institutional and functional changes —alone in themselves— proved
insufficient, superficial. [This language becomes quite
dangerous. Note how he now implicitly
pits “the Church before the Council” and “the Church after the Council” against
each other, in just the manner Pope Benedict taught must not be done (e.g., in
the 2005 Christmas address to the Curia).] Sometimes they created new
problems and crises both unnecessary and deep. Any change in the Church
eventually requires considering a renovation of the motivations that the new
options inspire. Without deep-rooted, living and explicit motivations, no human
group, no institution and no society can survive for a long time, much less
renovate itself. Motivations answer to the fundamental “why” of the options,
the enterprises, the demands, and the same reason for being of the institution.
The Pope wants to take this Church renovation to the point
where it becomes irreversible. The wind that propels the sails of the Church
towards the open sea of its deep and total renovation is Mercy.
For the Church, the motivations are more than essential;
they are its identity stamp. The “why” of its organization and its action
cannot be decisively explained by the human sciences or the pure historical
rationality: they refer to Jesus and his Gospel as the global, indispensable
and predominant motivation. It is the motivation of the Spirit. Therefore, to
speak of motivations in Christianity is to speak of the mystical, of
spirituality. [Right.
In Part I, he seemed to agree that it is of the essence of the Church
founded by Christ that this “why” goes to the reception of grace/mercy and the
journey of conversion, via Scripture and Tradition, the Sacraments, and the
works of mercy. Now, he’s hinting at some new “why,” some new relationship in
the Church between “mercy” and “concrete love,” that would change the essential
shape of Tradition.]
The institutional and functional renovation of the Church
requires a renovation of its mystical dimension. And at the roots of the
mystical is mercy.
2.4 The Maternal
Heart of Mercy
Catholic spirituality in history, due to its same incarnate
nature, never takes place as an “activity” isolated from the pastoral, the
theological, the social and the cultural conditions. [That’s
certainly true of the Sacraments, too.] Since
one of its dimensions —it is not the only one— is to motivate believers to
follow of Jesus. This following acquires renovated nuances, demands and topics
consistent with the mission and with the human experience of the believers.
While the life of Christ and the Gospels are always the same, the experiences
and the options that inspire are always historical. [What
does this mean for Tradition?]
Spirituality is not a science nor one more praxis in the
Church. It is the “nourishment” of the pastoral, the theology and the
community, whatever their “model” is. [But in this
broad sense, “spirituality” must be unchanging,
part of what comes to the Church immediately
from God. He seemed to accept this in
Part I, but now he seems to contradict himself.]
When this was forgotten by the process of ecclesial
renovation, [I’m guessing he missed the implication
here that it was not forgotten by the
Church before the Council...] this
caused “schizophrenia” in some Christians, which is one of the causes of many
failures. In a short time, they progressed in all of the levels of the
renovation. They changed many pastoral, theological, and disciplinary categories.
The image and the mission of the Church changed. Likewise, its concept that
related faith with history and society changed; therefore the social and
political options became more important.
In this context, there was no mystical renovation and it
remained “traditional,” consistent with another vision of the faith and of the
mission, and inconsistent with the new ecclesial experiences. [And there it is: “traditional” = “bad.” Notice how he now elides Tradition by
labeling it merely “another vision of the faith the mission” – as if the
fundamental orientation of the Church were so malleable! Again, in his argument in Part I, he seemed
to accept Tradition; now, he is claiming that “traditional” spirituality,
rooted in the “traditional” understanding of Scriptures, apostolicity,
sacramentality, devotions, etc., is no longer fit for the Church. So, either this section of the essay is
confused and unhelpful, or else his real argument is this: If our fundamental
spiritual “experience” and “vision” remains that of the Apostles, the Fathers,
and the Councils, then we are “schizophrenic” and “inconsistent!”]
In this context, a spirituality does not motivate, it
becomes irrelevant. It ends up being perceived as a useless appendix and ends
up being abandoned, since a mystic that does not nourish the human experience
stops having meaning; a spirituality that is foreign to the ecclesial model
that is being lived leads to the crisis of the Christian “schizophrenia.” Many
abandonments of the ecclesial life, and even of the faith, are rooted there. [Even granting this “being foreign to the ecclesial model” to
be true (which I don’t), this does not follow:] The only answer is not
in abandoning all mystic or reversing the renovation of the institutions or
options (due to fear of a collapse of the Christian values), but in deeply
renovating the faith and spirituality starting from love to reach mercy. [Assuming he really means what he says here, this is an
extraordinarily sweeping claim. He’s saying that the “traditional” model of the
Church, and the spirituality that underpins it, do not “start from love to
reach mercy.” So the whole of Church history, all the works of all the great
saints and mystics of the past, the whole sacramental order and experience of
the Church for 19 centuries, that was not really what God intended for the
Church. But now, somehow, almost ex nihilo, suddenly this tiny handful of
people understand everything better and clearer than all the doctors of the
Church and the whole of the faithful...] That is what the Pope wants. [And just in case you’re not convinced, he pulls out the
argument from authority. The (current)
Pope is claimed to want it, so it must be right.]
In that regard, on July 28, 2013, Pope Francis said
(speech): “She gives birth, suckles, gives growth, corrects, nourishes and
leads by the hand… So we need a church capable of rediscovering the maternal
womb of mercy. Without mercy we have little chance nowadays of becoming part of
a world of ‘wounded’ persons in need of understanding, forgiveness and love.” [This quote doesn’t support what he claims. Since “the Church is always in need of
renewal,” the Pope is quite correct (in that sense) to say this; but such “rediscovery”
means a return to what the Church has always done, in evangelical and apostolic
integrity, not a substitution of some new ecclesial vision for the “traditional”
one.]
On December 9, 2014, at the Chapel of the Santa Marta Guest
House I heard the Pope say loud and clear what I will share now: “I ask myself,
what is the consolation of the Church? [2 Cor 1:3-5 -
he paraphrases thus:] Just as an
individual is consoled when he feels the mercy and forgiveness of the Lord, the
Church rejoices and is happy when she goes out of herself [offering the same mercy and forgiveness to those who long,
even inchoately, for reconciliation with God; as said above, this ultimately
leads to full sacramental participation.]. In the Gospel, the pastor who
goes out goes to seek the lost sheep – he could keep accounts like a good
businessman. [He could say]: ‘Ninety-nine sheep, if I lose one, it’s no
problem; the balance sheet – gains and losses. But it’s fine, we can get by.’ No,
he has the heart of a shepherd, he goes out and searches for [the lost sheep]
until he finds it, and then he rejoices, he is joyful.”
“When the Church does not do this [Has
there ever been a time or place when the Church, qua Church, has not done this?
Or does he mean, when the members of the Church don’t?], then the
Church stops herself, is closed in on herself, even if she is well organized,
has a perfect organizational chart, everything’s fine, everything’s tidy – but
she lacks joy, she lacks peace, and so she becomes a disheartened Church,
anxious, sad, a Church that seems more like a spinster than a mother, and this
Church doesn’t work, it is a Church in a museum. The joy of the Church is to
give birth [i.e., to new disciples]; the joy of
the Church is to go out of herself to give life [i.e.,
by those new disciples’ sacramental participation and sharing in the mission];
the joy of the Church is to go out to seek the sheep that are lost; the joy of
the Church is precisely the tenderness of the shepherd, the tenderness of the
mother.”
“May the Lord give us the grace of working, of being joyful
Christians in the fruitfulness of Mother Church, and keep us from falling into
the attitude of these sad Christians, impatient, disheartened, anxious, that have
all the perfection in the Church, but do not have ‘children.’ [This is good. As
disciples, any of us might experience discouragement and loss of zeal, and we
need this prayer continually.] May
the Lord console us with the consolation of a Mother Church that goes out of
herself and consoles us with the consolation of the tenderness of Jesus and His
mercy in the forgiveness of our sins.” [Again, these
words of Pope Francis do not support the supposed argument about Tradition the
Cardinal is possibly trying to make. The Pope is saying that we’re not good
enough disciples, that we’re distracted by all kinds of weakness and sin from
carrying out the mission of the Church consistently. That’s true and always has been, and yet God
works through us in spite of it. This is
quite a “traditional” thing to say. But
it doesn’t follow from this that “traditional” spirituality is faulty or
inadequate.]
These are words accompanied by gestures of the Pope that
speak of coherence. His actions and his harmony with those who need consolation
are small pieces of encyclicals, they are itinerant “Pope Magisterium,” [Argument from authority again. Moreover, if Pope Francis’s “gestures” and
“small pieces of encyclicals” constitute this “itinerant papal Magisterium,”
then so, logically, did those of Pope Benedict XVI, Pope St. John Paul II, and
all the popes... which obviously leads to conflicting claims and irreconcilable
differences within the Magisterium. So
this becomes a reductio ad absurdum,
and is clearly not tenable. See LG #22, 25; Heb 13:9; Mt 7:15; etc.] they
are prophetic gestures that arouse admiration and cause the holy emulation of
what he does, because he does it as Christ did and Peter summarizes it at
Cornelius’ house: “He went about doing good” (Acts 10: 38).
Cardinal Rodriguez Maradiaga, "Church of Mercy of Pope Francis," response in several parts - Part Two
This continues my explication and response to Cardinal Rodriguez Maradiaga's essay and talk, "The Church of Mercy of Pope Francis." Part One of my response is here.
“The Church of Mercy with Pope Francis” (cont'd)
“The Church of Mercy with Pope Francis” (cont'd)
2. Mercy is the
Highest Expression of Love
The Church presided in charity—as it is called
liturgically—wants to be known in times of Pope Francis [and, indeed, in all times] as the house of mercy. The following
text summarizes this symbol of identity: “I believe that this is the season of
mercy. This new era we have entered, and the many problems in the Church – like
the poor witness given by some priests, problems of corruption in the Church,
the problem of clericalism for example – have left so many people hurt, left so
much hurt. The Church is a mother: she has to go out to heal those who are
hurting, with mercy.” (Pope Francis Press Conference on July 28, 2013)
The Pope’s words in this speech feel harsh for the
corrupted, the abuser, the liar, the one who seeks power mundanely, but feel
tender and benevolent, like balm and sweet to “those who are hurting.” [By itself, this risks being a false dichotomy. What about
those already being healed, who seek to serve? Or those outside the Church
still rejecting every approach of grace?]
A Samaritan Church will heal the wounds of those who are beaten,
hurting and prostrated, those who have weakly fallen under the power of those
who use violence. That is why the Pope’s words have such a deep evangelical
meaning. Thinking about the Church as “a mother who has to go out to heal those
who are hurting, with mercy,” puts her in a completely original role —the one
from the beginning of Christianity— a Church that is close to people,
incarnated and submerged in the existential history of man, turning their
miseries into wealth and their weaknesses into their biggest strength. [Quite true, that Christ founded the Church to be a merciful
mother to all, and that, inasmuch as the Church is indefectible (Mt 16:18), she
has always been such. But, he seems to
contradict this, below...] This
makes us think of the Church in metaphoric similarities to a “home” and a
“hospital”. The Church of Christ is the Church of Francis: beset with
compassion.
2.1 The starting
point: God’s Mercy
In the Angelus from September 15, 2013, the Pope said:
“Remember this well, ‘There is no limit to the Divine Mercy which is offered to
everyone,” since “Mercy is the true force that can save man and the world from
the “cancer” that is sin, moral evil, spiritual evil. Only love fills the void,
the negative chasms that evil opens in hearts and in history. Only love can do
this, and this is God’s joy!”
Starting from God’s Mercy, the Church that allows itself to
be led by that mercy [What’s his implied contradiction
here? Is it possible to imagine “the Church,” qua Church, not allowing
itself to be led by divine mercy?] becomes infinitely generous and can
take the commandment of Love to the ultimate consequences, knowing that it is
Love what saves man and the world, or what saves man from the world. If sin is
considered a “cancer” and can disguise itself as moral evil, spiritual evil and
psychological evil, then the universal remedy against any form of evil will be
the love that becomes forgiveness [In its fullness,
this means participation in the holy Eucharist: LG #13, etc.]; it will
be the love that becomes hope able to give meaning to so many empty lives and
so many human lives beset with pain and frustration. If something is able to
redeem from sin it is the Cross of Christ. Therefore, everything that fits
under the Cross’ shade is redeemed. [In this image, one
sees Mary and John at the foot of the Cross, with the whole apostolic,
sacramental, and devotional “spirituality” thus evoked.]
It is not just Christ’s pain and his passion that redeem, it
is not just the cross that saves us: his pain, his passion and his cross have
redeeming power because of Love. [Because the Love is
God Himself; see CCC 602, 603, etc.] It
is then Christ’s crucified Love that gives back meaning to human existence and
elevates it to the dignity from which sin deprived it and that Jesus’ decision,
dying for love in the cross, recovered.
If the world experienced how big God’s love and salvation
initiative are, all temples would be filled with people asking for the holy
sacraments of Confession, Baptism, Anointing of the Sick and Eucharist. Priests
would not be able to handle such a need for absolution, blessing or communion
since entire multitudes —convinced of that infinite love of God, origin of
salvation—, would understand that truth and life have a name: Jesus. And his
name is Love.
That is why the Pope says, “Only love fills the void,” Which
void? Superficiality, noise, alienation of the heart that hardens when it lets
itself be taken over by consumerism, love for money, the culture of death, the
maelstrom of pleasure in all its forms, the drugs and the life without God. [In a word, sin.] If
man’s void was filled with God’s mercy and mercy could be experienced in the
Church, nobody would abandon their parish, temples would be packed with
faithful, seminaries would be filled with young men that would leave the field
of daily worries to devote themselves to serve God and console their brothers.
This is not idyllic nor poetic, it is as realistic as the pain that only love
can heal. Void cannot be filled with another void. It has to be filled with
content and realities that can sublimate and explain them. [I.e, the real encounter with divine love and mercy, of which
the highest form is in the Sacraments.] That
is why the answer that man—wounded—seeks as the ultimate meaning of his
existence only exists in God. If people were to found a Church close to the
people, compassionate, a companion, identified with the bleeding pain of so
many “sick” and terminally ill lives, the Church of Christ, the Church that
Pope Francis presides today, would be more credible and necessary. [I certainly don’t think he means that people founded the
Church instead of Christ, but he does begin here to drive in the wedge of
“Church of Christ = Church of Francis, but not
= Church of, say, Trent...”]
2.2. The Point of
Encounter: Man’s misery
It is starting from God’s mercy how we reach man. That is
why every honest meeting with the existential reality of man takes place under
the sign of mercy. It is either mercy or judgment. [A
perfectly correct dichotomy (e.g., CCC 1021)]
And the Church is not here to judge, condemn, reproach or reject
anybody but to embrace as in a home where love reigns for everybody who needs
it. [No, but, let’s not gloss over the rather critical
step of one’s acceptance of mercy and entering into the path of conversion.]
Pope Francis explains that Jesus’ mercy towards man is not
so much a feeling as a force. He says it in this manner, “it is a force that
gives life, that raises man up! (…) “This compassion is the love of God for
man, it is mercy, the attitude of God in contact with human misery, with our
poverty, our suffering, our anguish,” (Angelus, June 9, 2013).
[This paragraph is good:] It
is not a simple emotional harmony of the agreement of altruist feelings but a
real assumption and possession of the misery of man by God. When Christ was
Incarnate by the Holy Spirit of the Virgin Mary and was made Man (cf. Nicene’s
Creed), he took as his all human beings reality, all their miseries to redeem
them and save what was lost. He did it in a way that where there was man in his
circumstances, where there was a person conditioned by his or her own
existential environment, where life weighs and existence hurts, where
depression and absurdity stand out, God’s love arrives, repeating what the Pope
said, “the attitude of God in contact with human misery, with our poverty, our
suffering, our anguish,” (idem). God does not become absent from man. Instead,
moved by mercy, He has an eternal appointment with him to heal his misery and
proclaim about each life and about each history a new hope made up of forgiveness,
comprehension and deep tenderness. This type of God wants this type of Church. [Yes; and in fact God has
this type of Church, since it’s precisely this Church which He founded.]
Therefore, following Jesus does not mean to participate in a
triumphant entourage. [Again, yes, but... We certainly
embrace humility and reject “triumphalism” in any of its worldly senses (see Mt
20:25-6; 1 Pet 3:5; etc.), but the victory of Christ over sin and death is a
triumph worth celebrating; and the host of saints entering Heaven in “martial
array” (e.g., 1 Kgs 8, Rev 19, etc.) is “triumphant” in a good sense, which it
would damage the Church to lose – to wit:] It means to share his
merciful love, to enter his great work of mercy for each man and for all men.
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
Cardinal Rodriguez Maradiaga, "Church of Mercy of Pope Francis," response in several parts - Part One
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| Oscar Andres Cardinal Rodriguez Maradiaga speaking at SCU (photo from the Markkula Center's website) |
Santa Clara was good enough to publish the text of his essay. In the spirit of fraternal dialogue, I offer a thoughtful and, I hope, constructive response. The published text is in black, [with my comments in red, inserted]. The essay is somewhat long, so I'm breaking it into several parts, following the sections in the original. Here is Part One of my response.
“The Church of Mercy with Pope Francis”
1. The Gospel is
summarized in love
Fraternal love has its origins in God, who is Love and that
loved us first. [Yes, quite so.] He spreads his
love unto us, through the Holy Spirit [By what
means? See below...], so that, in
each of us, that love can grow, mature and resemble true love —the love with
which Christ loved us.
If we are able to love, it is because God communicates his
love to us. If we can love, it is due to Christ’s death for love and His
resurrection, which have made love possible [not only
by imitation, but especially by participation; the Sacraments make us
capable of loving like Christ – see LG #11; CCC 150, 221-227, 654, etc. This critical understanding of “divine love”
is consistently elided in this essay.]. This love of Jesus is the
measure [and “source and summit”] of love. The
Christian ideal surpasses [precisely in sacramental
participation, without which it remains merely “humanistic”] the pure
humanism of interpersonal equality ("don’t do unto others what you don’t
want others to do unto you; do unto others what you want others to do unto
you"), and pushes us to love as Christ loved us. Therefore love’s growth
has no limits in our life. That is why learning to love is the great task of Christian
spirituality, always unfinished. [So there is a
necessary supernatural element in human love which participates in Christ’s
perfect love.]
Sometimes there is the risk of focusing spirituality on
other goals, other values, and not giving supremacy to the Beatitude of Mercy [“Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.”].
This Beatitude teaches us that according to the Gospel, it is both solidarity
and commitment of efficient love towards the brother in need and suffering
misery, and the forgiveness of offenses and the reconciliation.
Mercy is the practice of fraternal love, and it shows us the
concrete ways of the incarnation of love: the reconciliation and the liberation
from miseries. [But also in a supernatural sense;
therefore liberation from spiritual
miseries (i.e. sins and the effects of sin) is also always central to the
presence of divine mercy in the world, i.e., the mission of the Church.] Jesus’ teachings reveal to us that
practicing mercy is the only universal way that builds fraternity (that makes
us brothers and sisters to one another). [True and full
fraternity is unity in the Church; see LG #2, #13 – “All men are called to
belong to the new people of God...”] That
is the message of The Parable of the Good Samaritan, which is the parable of
the true practice of mercy and fraternal love (Luke 10: 25-37). At the end of
the parable, Jesus asks the experts in the law, “Which of these three do you
think was a neighbor (brother) to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” (Luke
10: 30). It means that the three were not brothers of the wounded. They could
have been, but in fact “the one who showed him mercy” (Luke 10: 37) was. The
priest was not a brother of the Jew and neither was the Levite, the Samaritan
was. For Jesus being a brother to others is not something “automatic,” like an
acquired right [because of the reality of sin].
We are not brothers without practicing love. Saint Paul reminds us that we gain
nothing if we serve the poor or surrender to martyrdom if we do not have love
(I Cor. 13: 1 et seq.)
[This paragraph is very good:]
Regarding the commandment of growing in love, we must acknowledge that we do
not know how to love. [Again, he’s invoking the reality
of sin.] Our love is usually a
caricature (Rom. 12: 9: “let love be genuine”). Our selfishness, our worries
and our sensitivity take us over. Nevertheless we know that fraternal charity
is the most difficult Christian and human realization: to be able to love as Christ
loves us. [This is what we’re striving for in the whole
of the spiritual life, and why we need constant recourse to the grace of the
sacraments, and to deeper prayer.] We
know that on Earth we will never reach the perfection of love; we know that we will
continually fail, that we do not know how to overcome division and rancor, that
every day we are timid in serving, in welcoming, in forgiving and in giving
something of our lives for others. All this does not mean that we do not want
to love or that in fact we do not love. Love is the way of love, to love is to
want to love. What God asks of us, essentially, is not the success of charity
but the permanent effort to grow in love and the struggle to learn to love,
which begins every day. In the struggle to mature in love, the “human” and
“evangelical” aspect of love walk together hand in hand, without ruptures or
contradictions.
There is no separation between human love and Christian
charity. [True; but there is the distinction, already
noted above, between natural and supernatural realities.] There should not be in practice a
quandary between evangelization and social action born out of charity. The
commandment of love that Christ gave us coincides with the vocation of man to
grow affectionately, to give and give oneself above receiving and possessing.
Indeed, the mission, the mercy and the service to the poor
and to all brothers as a human and missionary experience must be a place of
discovery of God, of greater knowledge of the face of God. God’s Spirit reveals
Himself in the values of self-giving and service, the aspirations to justice
and solidarity, in each conversion, in the “little ones”, the suffering and the
indigent… Human reality, cultures, are filled with the presence of the Holy
Spirit and the action of God that builds the Kingdom; they lead us to
experience God Himself. [This is all quite true, but
again, must not be taken in a sense which denies that the Sacraments are also
encounters with God, or that drives any kind of wedge between prayer/liturgy/sacrament
and charity/social action; see below...]
The social dimension of the mission implies becoming
“contemplative in the action.” Both dimensions of the evangelist’s spirituality
are inseparable: The God that is experienced and loved in Himself and through
himself, and the God experienced and loved in the brothers. The first dimension
underlines that Christianity is transcendental to any temporal reality; the
second dimension highlights that Christianity is incarnated and inseparable
from the love to the brother. The first one reminds us of the first commandment
to love God above everything else, and the absolute of the person of Jesus. The
second one reminds us of the commandment similar to the first one, to love your
neighbor as yourself and the presence of Christ in that love. [I like his stress on the inseparability of these two
dimensions. This is all quite true.]
The Christ found and contemplated in the prayer of the
faithful “prolongs itself” in the encounter with the brother, and if we are
able to experience Christ in the service to the “little ones,” it is because we
have already found Him in the contemplative prayer [and
the Sacraments; or rather, because He has found us (Jn 15:16)]. Social
charity is not only to discover Jesus’ presence in the brother (“you do it to
me”), but also a call to action in his favor, a call to commitment. That is why
if we evangelize with Christ in our hearts, we will do the works he did. [“Having Christ in our heart” is not a feeling or a choice we
make, but only ever a response to His love and mercy we have received – the
response of faith, which, he’s just been stressing, comprises inseparably the
love of God (Church and Sacraments, etc) and the love of neighbor (vocation and
mission).]
Jesus certainly has widened the horizon and the demands of
love and has given it new motives and meaning. But his demands for evangelical
charity take place and develop in the interior of human love, the emotional
nature and the heart, though they are surpassed by the faith and action of the
Holy Spirit. (For which fraternal love it is not always sensitive and
gratifying). We learn to love following Jesus through love. Once more, he shows
us the true practice of love, and communicates to us the light and life to be
able to love like he loved us and to be able to evangelize as he did.
Thursday, June 26, 2014
Working document ("Instrumentum Laboris") for the Synod on the Family released
III EXTRAORDINARY GENERAL ASSEMBLY
THE PASTORAL CHALLENGES
OF THE FAMILY
IN THE CONTEXT OF EVANGELIZATION
OF THE FAMILY
IN THE CONTEXT OF EVANGELIZATION
INSTRUMENTUM LABORIS
VATICAN CITY
2014
It's a longish document (75 pages). No time to read it now, but here's the link to the Vatican's site, and here's a CNS report on it, including a summary of its scope and main lines.
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