What is the "Deposit of Faith?"

From the Catechism of the Catholic Church:

 

Michaelangelo's "Creation of Man"

#1 God, infinitely perfect and blessed in himself, in a plan of sheer goodness, freely created man to make him share in his own blessed life. For this reason, at every time and in every place, God draws close to man. He calls man to seek him, to know him, to love him with all his strength. He calls together all men, scattered and divided by sin, into the unity of his family, the Church. To accomplish this, when the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son as Redeemer and Saviour. In his Son and through him, he invites men to become, in the Holy Spirit, his adopted children and thus heirs of his blessed life.

 

#2 So that this call should resound throughout the world, Christ sent forth the apostles he had chosen, commissioning them to proclaim the gospel: "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, to the close of the age."⁴ Strengthened by this mission, the apostles "went forth and preached everywhere, while the Lord worked with them and confirmed the message by the signs that attended it."⁵

 

Christ teaching the Apostles

#3 Those who with God's help have welcomed Christ's call and freely responded to it are urged on by love of Christ to proclaim the Good News everywhere in the world. This treasure, received from the apostles, has been faithfully guarded by their successors. All Christ's faithful are called to hand it on from generation to generation, by professing the faith, by living it in fraternal sharing, and by celebrating it in liturgy and prayer.⁶

 

 

 

 

 

 

There is a lot of talk in the Church these days about "changing teaching."  This kind of talk is dangerous, especially when it fails to make clear the critical distinction between what is changeable, and what is not, among the Church's many teachings.

 

The whole of the "deposit of faith" is not changeable.  As the quote from the beginning of the CCC shows, it is precisely this core content, revealed by God in the Incarnation, life, Passion, death, and Resurrection of Jesus Christ, as well as in Scripture and Apostolic Tradition, that must be kept whole and intact, and passed on to future generations.  Christ Himself commanded that the Apostles (and their successors) do exactly that: preserve and hand on, without change, the teachings ("deposit of faith") He taught them.

 

St Bede the Venerable,
preserving and proclaiming

A certain bishop recently said, "We're not a Church of preservation, but rather a Church of proclamation."  This is misleading.  We certainly are a Church of proclamation, but the only thing we have authority (given by Christ) to proclaim is precisely what has been preserved, namely the apostolic deposit of faith.  We're not free to add to it or subtract from it, to alter it, to rearrange its parts into a more pleasing pattern, to hide parts of it behind other parts of it, etc.  We are given the mandate by Christ Himself to preserve it, and to hand it on.  So, we are also a Church of preservation - not for the sake of preserving as an end in itself, but precisely for the sake of proclaiming something real and true.

 

So what constitutes that deposit of faith?  Here's a brief schematic (following CCC #84 ff):

• Scripture and Tradition - the unchangingness of revealed/inspired Scripture is generally unquestioned, but some modern translations implicitly change the meaning by subordinating the actual text to (transient) cultural norms; "Tradition" tends to be understood rather nebulously, rather than as the concrete set of things the Apostles actually did and taught, and therefore passed on to their immediate successors to be received as essential to faith in Christ.  The problem is precisely that Tradition is not written down.  But, the synthesis of the Pastristic Fathers and the witness of the medieval and early modern Church does a good job of demonstrating in practice what Tradition really means.

• 

  An ecumenical council:
  pope and bishops together

  Magisterium - the teaching authority of the Church.  It has two and only two explicit duties, for which Christ has given His authority, namely, the preservation of the deposit of faith, and the interpretation of it across time and cultures.  There is no authority given to innovate.
• defined Dogma - Some aspects of faith are so overarching that they "crystalize" in dogmatic form.  Dogma must be present from the beginning, as part of the deposit of faith, but may be demonstrated either from Scripture or from Tradition.  Having been defined with full magisterial authority, dogma cannot be changed, and we should not lightly change the formula in which the dogma is expressed.  Here's a short list (not trying to be comprehensive):
• Trinity - God is three persons in one substance; God is both transcendent and immanent
• Incarnation - Christ is both fully God and fully man; "remaining what He was, He became what He was not;" He truly suffered and died for our sins; His sacrifice on the Cross is sufficient for our redemption; He truly rose from the dead and took again the body he had previously assumed, now perfected and glorified; He founded the Church He intended to found; etc
• Church - "One, holy, Catholic, and apostolic," with a divinely-intended mission and "constitution," including the authority of the papacy and the episcopate
• Seven Sacraments - hence also the fullness of the liturgy, sacramental grace, the reality of sin and conversion, the necessity of baptism; the baptismal call to holiness; the revealed definition of marriage; the mission of the laity in the world as witnesses and disciples; the clergy
• Four Last Things
• Etc - all of these defined dogmas have numerous further implications for doctrine (positively expressed but not defined with highest authority), which likewise can't be contradicted without calling the dogma into question, as well as for pastoral practice, which likewise can't be contradicted (although there is generally a wide range of pastoral options that don't contradict the dogma)
• "sensus fidei," the actual unity of faith experienced as the instinctive acceptance of what is consistent with Catholic faith, and the instinctive rejection of what isn't - this is a sure guide, to the extent that it matches up with "what Catholics believe, always, everywhere, and by everyone"
• It is a greatly damaging modern conceit that only Catholics today matter, because Catholics in the past weren't "mature" or were "superstitous" or the like.  This idea must be rejected as a grave sin of pride, and as a contradiction of the deposit of faith.
• "faith seeking understanding," the actual fullness of truth (sufficient for salvation) of the whole of the one faith, experienced as longing to know and love God by faith, contemplation, and study (study does not have to be formal; pious practices like reading the lives of the saints are also study, in this sense)

The Lamb of God

All this content of the deposit of faith is ultimately received from God.  Willfully to reject it, modify it, or subordinate it to personal whims or cultural demands is to commit the same sin of pride that caused the fall of the lost angels.  (We sometimes do that not willfully, because we are finite beings, and because we are always under pressure from the world, the flesh, and the devil to make compromises.  This is what we mean we say "The Church is always in need of reform.")  To be faithful to Christ means that we must make every possible effort to receive the deposit of faith entire and uncorrupt (which is given to us with supernatural power in the sacraments and in the Magisterium of all time, so we can actually know it), and also to pass it on by our teaching, our witness, and our piety, likewise entire and uncorrupt. 

 

 

 

 

 

Apostolic Succession: Thoughts on the Feast of St. Matthias, 14 May

Yesterday was the Feast of St. Matthias, the one chosen in Acts 1:15-26 to take the place of Judas among the Twelve.  I preached on how this demonstrates Apostolic Succession, and what that means for our faith today.  This is an extended version of what I preached about, more in the form of reflections than the homily was.

Here's the text, according to the Douay-Rheims version:

In those days Peter rising up in the midst of the brethren, said (now the number of persons together was about an hundred and twenty): Men, brethren, the scripture must needs be fulfilled, which the Holy Ghost spoke before by the mouth of David concerning Judas, who was the leader of them that apprehended Jesus: Who was numbered with us, and had obtained part of this ministry...  For it is written in the book of Psalms: Let their habitation become desolate, and let there be none to dwell therein [Ps 69 (68):26]. And his bishopric [Vulg "episcopatum;" LXX "επισκοπήν, episcopen"] let another take [Ps 109 (108):8]. Wherefore of these men who have companied with us, all the time that the Lord Jesus came in and went out among us, Beginning from the baptism of John, until the day wherein he was taken up from us, one of these must be made a witness with us of his resurrection. And they appointed two, Joseph, called Barsabas, who was surnamed Justus, and Matthias. And praying, they said: Thou, Lord, who knowest the heart of all men, shew whether of these two thou hast chosen, To take the place of this ministry and apostleship, from which Judas hath by transgression fallen, that he might go to his own place. And they gave them lot, and the lot fell upon Matthias, and he was numbered with the eleven apostles.

This passage clearly shows us the criteria in the minds of the earliest disciples, including the Apostles, even before Pentecost, of what would come to be called "apostolic succession."  I've highlighted the key passages:

• Peter rising up... - It's Peter's role as the leader of the Twelve to take this action.  Right from the beginning, Peter has a distinctive leadership among the Apostles, rooted in the events of Mt 16:18-19 ("You are Peter, and on this rock...") and Jn 21:15-17 ("Do you love me? Feed my sheep." (thrice)).  The first several chapters of Acts bear this out.  When Peter eventually becomes Bishop of Rome, this headship will be exercised by his successors, Linus, Cletus, Clement (e.g., in his Letter to the Corinthians), etc., and become the basis of papal authority over the whole Church.
• ...the scripture must needs be fulfilled... - The action described here is explicitly understood to be divinely inspired, both in the action of the Holy Spirit among the community prompting Peter's leadership, the community's responses, and the eventual choice of Matthias - note, again, this is before Pentecost! - and in the Scriptural foundation now revealed to be a prophetic preparation for this moment.  God is in charge, and therefore the whole doctrine of apostolic succession is "of God."
• And his bishopric let another take... - The divine shape of the office of bishop is, in is essence, also rooted in Scripture and in the use Christ and (here) the Holy Spirit make of it.  Peter uses Ps 109 to call the position held by Judas and now to be given to another the "episcopate."  In the Greek and in the Latin, the connotation is not generic, such as "manager" for us today is generic, but something with more specific, even if still flexible, outlines, function, and purpose.  
• ...one of these must be made a witness... - part of the essence of the office being given is that of witness, of one who can proclaim the Good News and the Kingdom as an eyewitness and credible testifier.  
• ...a witness with us... - the unity of the Twelve in this mission, among themselves and together with Peter their leader, is paramount.  This is still true today; see e.g., Lumen Gentium 18: "This Sacred Council, following closely in the footsteps of the First Vatican Council, with that Council teaches and declares that Jesus Christ, the eternal Shepherd, established His holy Church, having sent forth the apostles as He Himself had been sent by the Father; and He willed that their successors, namely the bishops, should be shepherds in His Church even to the consummation of the world. And in order that the episcopate itself might be one and undivided, He placed Blessed Peter over the other apostles..." etc.
• ...a witness with us of his resurrection. - The bedrock of the Gospel is the Resurrection of Christ from the dead.  It's not just that Jesus worked miracles, or taught a moral law, or challenged corrupt or lax religious authority, but most especially that He died and rose for us, that makes Christianity what it is.  One cannot proclaim or follow Christ without proclaiming and following the (hope of) the Resurrection.  Knowing and following the Lord Jesus must make this kind of difference in one's life.  
• ...take the place of this ministry and apostleship... - Again, Peter and the Apostles are giving this task of proclaiming a specific authority and shape with this sort of terminology.  Their role in the Church is different from that of other disciples, even if they are still disciples first, as Ignatius of Antioch would say (Letter to the Romans, 4).  "Ministry," in particular, although it can often be a more generic word, takes on a specific, non-generic connotation in relation to the Resurrection of Christ, and the proclamation of that Good News by the Church (see e.g. Paul's usage in Rom 15:16: "That I should be the minister of Christ Jesus among the Gentiles: sanctifying the gospel of God, that the oblation of the Gentiles may be made acceptable and sanctified in the Holy Ghost.")  Here, Gospel proclamation and Eucharistic sacrifice are explicitly linked in "the ministry of Christ."
• ...he was numbered with the eleven apostles. - In other words, Matthias held an equal position with the other Apostles, under the leadership of Peter, even though he was given this position by them, and not, as they originally were or as Paul would be, by Christ Himself.  The fullness of Christ gifts to the Apostles are still held by Matthias - and by extension, by all those chosen by the Apostles and by their successors.

What all of this shows is the critical importance of the doctrine of apostolic succession for the Catholic faith.  Jesus Christ gave specific teachings, spiritual gifts and powers, and a share in His own authority to the Twelve.  They in turned passed the same "inheritance" on, intact and unchanged, to Matthias and others (e.g. Timothy, etc.).  They in turn used the gifts for the same purpose (i.e. "ministry," namely, proclamation of the Good News, leadership of the Church in unity under Peter and his eventual successors, and the sacraments (e.g., baptism, Acts 2:38; Confirmation, Acts 8:14-17; Eucharist, Acts 2:46, I Cor 11:20; anointing, Jas 5:14-15; ordaining by laying on of hands, Acts 6:6, I Tim 5:22; witnessing marriages "in the Lord," I Cor 7:39; forgiving sins (but private auricular confession becomes normal for the use of this power only later), Acts 3:19, 26; 4:4...).

Therefore, we must recognize the fact that the Church exists from its beginning in Christ, in its fullness!  (See CCC 771ff.)  Christ gives everything necessary to the Church, in the beginning, completely.  Now, granted, there is the historical work of "unpacking" the fullness of this gift, doctrinally, sacramentally and liturgically, and in evangelization of the whole world, and indeed that unpacking continues even today.  But it is the unfolding of what has already been given, not the creation or invention of new divine gifts and revelations.

It's precisely this apostolic succession that ensures that we're dealing with the same divine deposit of faith, and not inventing new things for ourselves.  This is the essential argument of Irenaeus against Gnosticism, for example, and it has been deployed many times.  If the Eucharist does not come from the hands of Christ Himself at the Last Supper, then the Church invented it, and it is not essential or divinely intended.  If Holy Orders do not come from the hands and will of Christ Himself, through the Apostles (choosing Matthias, choosing the Seven in Acts 6, Paul choosing Timothy, etc), then the Church invented these roles and rules, and they are not essential or divinely intended.  And so forth.  This is exactly what we mean when we say in the Creed that we believe the Church to be "apostolic" as one of its defining realities.

This doctrine is part of the faith we receive in baptism, but it is not, in the strict sense, a "mystery."  It is not impenetrable, nor does it exceed reason to consider in what way, precisely, as recorded in the New Testament and as lived out in the history of the Church, the concrete and tangible gifts of ministry were given by Christ to the Apostles, and were used by them in the first three decades of the Church, and were handed on intact by them to their successors, to be used still further for the building up of the Church, and so on.  It is entirely rational and historical to grasp this part of the faith, and to apply it to the realities of the seven Sacraments, the Church's worship in general, the moral life, and the life of charity.  The great apologists of the second century - e.g., Irenaeus, Justin Martyr, Tertullian, Clement of Alexandria - did exactly that in defending apostolicity against both Roman (pagan) syncretism and Gnostic mythologization, and others since have imitated them.

But contrast this understanding of faith against the most common assumption or model of the modern world, namely, "evolution."  Modern thought implicitly assumes that everything follows the pattern of evolution gleaned from biology - of more primitive things becoming more complex over time, following certain common patterns and driven not by clear purpose or teleology, but by "survival" or "fitness" in a specific context, or by mere self-perpetuation in some form.  Nearly every example of adaptation or change over time is squeezed in this evolutionary model, regardless of whether that actually helps understanding or not.

Darwin might look like a prophet, but he's a poor theologian.

In terms of Church history, the imposition of the evolutionary model since the 19th century has led to many "non-traditional" arguments and conclusions, some of which are extremely damaging to the faith.  For a lesser example, arguments that Mark's Gospel is earlier than Matthew's essentially boil down to the claim that it must be earlier because it's shorter (= the more primitive form). (There's a bit more to the argument than that, especially that so much of Mark is in Matthew, but not as much in reverse.  Still, some good arguments for Matthew's being earlier are not given as much attention, because they don't fit the model.)  There are many other, more serious ways in which the imposition of the evolutionary model distorts our understanding of faith.  Most insidious is the idea that opposes "the Jesus of history" (primitive form) against "the Christ of faith" (later complex form), and ends with denying the divinity of Jesus itself!

In terms of the doctrine of apostolic succession, especially, the evolutionary model is completely the wrong one to use.  Still, it is all too common to assume that more primitive forms of ministry must have preceded later forms, such that, in the first decades of the Church, it's not really possible to talk of "bishops," of Peter as "Pope," of the "sacraments" (apart from baptism, and the "breaking of bread," which is not yet the "Eucharist"), of a coherent body of doctrine (apart from a few elements labelled "the primitive kerygma"), etc.  The dissimilarities between the earliest Church and the "post-Apostolic" Church are just too great, it is argued, to use these later terms and institutions to describe what's going on in the "primitive form" of the earliest Church.  If these fit even in the earliest Church, then they're not really primitive forms - but, it's just impossible (it is assumed) to explain how fully developed forms of things can exist without more primitive predecessors.

But the problem with this conclusion is precisely that it is not consonant with faith in Christ, as noted above.  If Christ did not will and give the essential aspects of these things to the Apostles, then they are not constitutive of the Church!  If they are not willed and given by Christ to the Apostles, then there is no divine power behind them.  Baptism doesn't really wash away sins, it's just a symbol.  Priestly ordination doesn't really give a man a sacred power to change bread and wine into Christ's own Body and Blood, it's just a symbol of leadership, possibly even a corrupt and politicized one.  The faith which is proclaimed doesn't have to be the same one that was proclaimed by earlier generations of Christians; it can even contradict what was previously believed.  Even Scripture itself is undermined, since divine authorship is incompatible with the evolutionary model, and the Canon of the New Testament is therefore a political side-effect of Church history, and thus also one which a new politics could redefine.  In the end, imposing an evolutionary model on the Church destroys apostolic succession and many other central doctrines, and makes us all into feckless false believers in empty, meaningless symbols.

I ended my homily with an exhortation to ask the intercession of St. Matthias and the other Apostles to increase our faith and strengthen our witness.  If we don't believe in a robust doctrine of the Church and her dependance on Christ and the Apostles, if we don't accept that there is a true and unchanging apostolic deposit of faith which we must believe, live, and transmit to others unchanged, then in the end, we don't really believe in Christ as "the one Mediator between God and men."  God save us from such a puny and selfish thing!

"Christ taking leave of the Apostles," Duccio di Buoninsegna ca. 1311, in the Museo dell'Opera del Duomo, Siena

Unity, Division, and the Church's Holiness - brief thoughts

A few weeks ago I read this review of a new book on ecclesiology, and was intrigued enough to want to read the book for myself.  May was very busy and I wasn't able to read it as thoroughly or deeply as I hoped, so this post will remain very general.  (I also didn't take notes while reading it, and no longer have it in front of me - ILL is a wonderful thing! - so can't cite examples of my impressions.)

Radner's argument seems to be that division, violence, and sin are inherent in the (life of the) Church.  He dismisses "traditional" ecclesiology(s) that distinguish between the holiness of the Church and the sins of her members.  He simply elides "the sins of Christians" to "Christian sin" to "the Church is violent."  Therefore an "adequate" ecclesiology will account for this, and the way forward, he asserts, is to root ecclesiology more firmly in the Church's imitation of Christ's sacrificial love (although he then avoids the obvious direction of the argument to the Eucharist and to grace).

I was certainly not convinced by most of Radner's argument, on several counts.  But the most important objection is simply this: a church that is not holy in the traditional sense, is not a church that can offer me relief from my own sins.  If I don't want to be free from my sins, I don't want any church, while if I do, I want a church that is holy, with the relevant divine gifts that make not only forgiveness but transformation possible. In any case, the church that he's describing is not one that attracts.

So I'll defend the traditional ecclesiology of the Church's holiness as sharing in the holiness of God, through the Incarnation, Passion, death, and Resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ, by means of this lecture:

Homily for Wednesday, January 2, Memorial of Saints Basil the Great and Gregory of Nazianzus

St. Basil the Great, from Orthodoxwiki.org

In the first reading, the Apostle John warns us against falling for any of the big lies about Jesus not being the Messiah, or about the Son's relationship with the Father.  Indeed, the faith which the Apostles handed down, and which is still preached and handed down in the Church today, is this: Jesus is the one, true Christ; he is truly God and truly man; and he really lived among us as one of us - was truly born, lived and died, and rose to life again.  This is the foundation of the Gospel and of the Church.

But this faith also contains the great mysteries.  As we continue in this Christmas season, we are face to face with the deepest mysteries of the Incarnation and of the Trinity.  These two great mysteries are at the heart of our faith, and they always seem to give the greatest opportunity for falling into error.

In the fourth century, the biggest crisis in the Church was the crisis of Arianism.  Now the Arians, you'll remember, claimed that God the Son was not God in the same way that God the Father is God; that he was basically a creature.  Every time we say in the Creed that Jesus Christ is "consubstantial" with the Father, we're saying that the Son and the Father share the very same divine essence, that they are both divine in the very same way.  We're rebuking the ideas of the Arians.

The two saints whose memorial we celebrate today, Basil and Gregory, did so much in the fourth century to defend the faith of the Apostles.  As bishops and preachers and theologians, Basil and Gregory taught with great power and compassion the true meanings of these mysteries of the Incarnation and the Trinity.  They rejected the ideas of the Arians, and they both suffered for it, at a time when political authorities were choosing sides in the theological debates of the Church.

Let me offer just one example of how they taught.  St. Basil wrote a treatise called "On the Holy Spirit," a powerful, influential work.  (If you just think for a moment of the differences between the Nicene Creed's paragraph on the Holy Spirit, and the Apostles' Creed, all of what's added about the Holy Spirit, what the Church believes and knows about Him, is clearly stated in this little book.)  But his treatise was also an argument against the Arians, and his basic argument went like this:

When we think about the relationship of the Son to the Father, our thinking is muddied by the fact of the Incarnation, of Jesus's humanity.  So let's look at it in terms of the Holy Spirit.  Does it make any sense, in terms of the apostolic faith, or in terms of Scripture, to say about the Holy Spirit what the Arians say about the Son, that he's not of the same substance as the Father?  No, it doesn't.  How can we say that the Holy Spirit is Lord and Giver of Life, if he is not fully and equally divine with the Father?  But if that's true of the Holy Spirit, it must be true of the Son also, or else there's no Trinity.

St. Gregory Nazianzen, from ewtn.com

This was not the only point against Arianism that needed to be made, but this was, and still is, a very convincing argument about the Trinity.  St. Basil and St. Gregory are still relevant to us in this way.  We live in a culture that tries to claim that the faith is irrational, that we believe things only because the Church tells us to believe.  Certainly we respect the authority of the Church in matters of the faith, but we also believe because we can think through and understand to some extent even the great mysteries.  St. Basil's argument shows an example of this.  Though our reason is finite and the mysteries are greater than what we can understand, still, what we do understand is true.  And so the things that we believe, we not only believe, but also know as true.

[I can't remember how I said it, but I finished with a very brief and positive exhortation to hold and believe the fullness of the apostolic, Catholic faith - it is, after all, the Year of Faith (though I neglected to mention it this time).]

Two reviews of "Adam and Eve after the Pill"

Mary Eberstadt's book, Adam and Eve after the Pill, published this spring by Ignatius Press, has been on my list of things to read.  It's also been making serious inroads into the Evangelical communities, many of whom are in the process of rediscovering Tradition.  Here's a review of the book from a Catholic source, which says obvious sorts of things about its content and Catholic teaching; but also notes that non-Catholics (specifically, Evangelicals) are also thinking hard about this book and this teaching.  Thus, here's a review from Christianity Today, which is also a very good review and says surprisingly positive things about the traditional teaching against contraception:

As Eberstadt sees it, the contraceptive pill has launched us into a new age in which responsibility has been divorced from sex. And while it is easy to point fingers at the secular world for embracing this reproductive technology, Christians are complicit in its hold on our culture. Most Christians do not want to be told what to do with their bodies any more than non-Christians, and the Pill has made that freedom possible.

Undeniable Data

Eberstadt's final chapter sheds a different kind of light on current evangelical conversations about sex. As often as these discussions are taking place, and as important as it is to affirm sex in marriage, there is a distinctly individualistic flavor to these teachings. While church leaders should encourage marital intimacy in the bedroom, married sex (and the teachings behind it) can still have negative social ramifications. Using contraception is not a private act, nor is it a neutral one. Eberstadt's book is Exhibit A of this reality.

Knowing this, pastors cannot address the widespread sexual brokenness in our culture simply by encouraging married sex. They must also address the ideology and theology behind the brokenness, and contraception is Ground Zero for those discussions.

One should recall (as this review does) that all Christian denominations held this teaching up until 1930.  All those denominations which have rejected this teaching have done so only in the last 80 years.  So I am greatly encouraged by Evangelicals reconsidering this rejection (brief round up in this article), and the possibility of their reclaiming this part of the apostolic deposit of faith.

There's a further ramification to this, of course.  The more the biblical and apostolic rejection of contraception is shared by Christian denominations, the more obvious it is that the HHS mandate is not merely an unconstitutional violation of religious liberty on its face, but also it, and the Affordable Care Act that it derives from, promote active harm for women, and families, and the common good.

Sacraments class follow-up: Pentecost and Confirmation

In our Sacraments class on Saturday, the question arose, Is the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost the institution by Christ of the Sacrament of Confirmation?  I said that it wasn't - or at least, as I emended later in the class, that one can't see Pentecost just by itself as that institution.  Here's some more information about Pentecost and Confirmation to help us better understand what I said, and implied, and didn't say.

We noted in class that the Holy Spirit is sent to the Church at several points: the Incarnation (Lk 1, see Lumen Gentium 59), the baptism of Jesus, the various promises of Jesus to the Apostles to send the Paraclete, the Easter morning appearance to the ten Apostles (Thomas being absent), and finally Pentecost.  The final coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost marks a profound change for the Apostles (and the other members of the Church, it is clearly implied), moving them from fear and confusion to a dramatic embrace of mission, and from that point, the Church continuously lives and grows under the clear guidance of the Holy Spirit.  Lumen Gentium 19 calls this culmination a "confirmation in mission" for the Apostles: And in this mission they [sc. the College of Apostles under Peter as head] were fully confirmed on the day of Pentecost in accordance with the Lord's promise: "You shall receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you shall be witnesses for me in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and in Samaria, and even to the very ends of the earth".

So certainly the power of confirming others, and the effects of Confirmation for the members of Church, taken generally, are implicitly represented in the chain of sending the Holy Spirit culminating in Pentecost.  So if we say, "Pentecost is Confirmation," that's not a false statement -- but it's also not a very precise one, as LG 19 shows.  So the institution of the Sacrament needs a more precise focus, which has traditionally been found in the way the Apostles then use this gift and power to confirm subsequent to baptism -- specifically in Acts 8.  For example:

Pope St. Innocent I, ep. #25 "Si instituta ecclesiastica" to Bp Decentius, 416: That this power [sc. to confirm] of a bishop, however, is due to the bishops alone, so that they either sign or give the Paraclete, the Spirit, not only ecclesiastical custom dictates, but also that reading in the Acts of the Apostles which declares that Peter and James were directed to give the Holy Spirit to those already baptized [by Philip: cf. Acts 8:14-7]. (Denzinger, #98)

Pope Innocent III, letter "Cum venisset" to Archbishop Basil, 1204: The imposition of hands is designated by the anointing of the forehead, which by another name is called confirmation, because through it the Holy Spirit is given for an increase of grace and strength.  Therefore... only the highest priest, that is the bishop, ought to confer [this anointing],because we read concerning the Apostles alone, which successors the bishops are, that through the imposition of hands the gave the Holy Spirit [cf. Acts 8:14ff] (Denzinger, #419)

First Ecumenical Council of Lyons (1245), cited in letter of Pope Innocent IV to his legate in Constantinople, 1254: Moreover, let bishops alone mark the baptized on the forehead with chrism, because the anointing is not to be given except by bishops, since the apostles alone, whose places the bishops take, are read [again, Acts 2 and 8] to have imparted the Holy Spirit by the imposition of hands, which confirmation... represents. (Denzinger, #450)

Almost identical wording is found in the Ecumenical Council of Florence (1438-45), in the 1439 document "Exultate Deo," on the seven sacraments, where the key passage of Acts 8:14-7 is cited in full.  (Here in this fuller treatment, we also see the possibility of a priest being properly delegated to confirm under some circumstances.)  (Denzinger, #697)  Trent didn't add anything to this; of the seven sacraments, Confirmation is the least treated by that council.  Vatican II makes the same point about bishops as ministers of Confirmation (e.g. LG 26), and treats the effects of Confirmation for the faithful elsewhere (e.g. LG 11), without direct reference either to Pentecost or Acts 8.

So the short answer to our original question is that Pentecost is not the institution by Christ of the Sacrament of Confirmation; the use of that power by the Apostles, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, and in fulfillment of the intention of Christ, is that institution, as clearly recorded (separate from baptism) in the case of Acts 8:14-17.  The longer answer, though, looks at the whole sequence of the sending of the Holy Spirit, and sees in Pentecost a potent confirming or empowering of the Apostles in their special mission of leading the Church, of which the power to confirm sacramentally is an explicit part.

In Defense of the Transitional Diaconate - theological argument from "sacra potestas"

In the historical argument for the transitional diaconate, we noted that the grades of Holy Orders have, from the beginning and always, been received in a "cumulative and sequential" manner. Even when grades (either minor or major) were skipped, this remained true - there is zero evidence that anyone anywhere was ever ordained to the diaconate after the priesthood, or the subdiaconate after the diaconate, etc., even if that grade had previously been skipped. This is important, because it shows that the apostolic pattern has been maintained always and everywhere, even if some of the details of which orders are included, and which not (cantors, catechists, gravediggers, deaconesses, etc.), took more time to decide. Thus, the standard hierarchy of four minor orders (porter, lector, exorcist, acolyte) and four major orders (subdeacon, deacon, priest, bishop) became fixed for the Latin Church even as early as the third century, and were invariably received in this order by roughly 700.

This apostolic pattern in favor of the transitional diaconate is also supported by two potent theological arguments. One is the "sacra potestas" argument. The other, which we won't broach in this post, is the unity of the sacrament argument.

We'll briefly look at the sacra potestas argument in five questions.

1. What is a "sacra potestas?" A sacra potestas is a "sacred power," that is, a piece of Christ's own divine power, given explicitly to the Apostles, and passed on by them to their successors and helpers by the laying on of hands and (eventually) the precise ritual of ordination to each grade.

These "sacred powers" are obviously rather important, because they are precisely that for which Christ gave us the sacrament of Holy Orders. At the very least, He willed the Church to have bishops to rule, to confirm, and to ordain; priests to confect the Eucharist and to forgive sins; and deacons to proclaim the Gospel. And, given what the Magisterium of the Church is in fact, we must also admit that the subdiaconate and the minor orders also were part of what He willed, at least for the temporality of the Church, if not for her divine constitution (i.e., they are consistent with the will of Christ, but not constituent of it, as bishops, priests, and deacons are).

The hierarchy of "sacred powers," then, is the essence, the "what," of Christ's divine ministry carried out by the Church. It guides how the sacraments are poured out for the people. It defines what is and is not "ecclesial" and "secular," in their particular spheres of human activity (see St. Augustine's "City of God," or Pope Gelasius's "two swords" doctrine, etc.). And it fundamentally shapes the pastoral care of the Church, without defining the "how" of that care dogmatically.

2. Does every grade have a "sacra potestas?" All the major orders have a sacred power. The ordination rites of the Latin Church - I'm looking at those used from roughly 700 until the reforms of Vatican II - were extremely clear about the power given to each grade, both in the words used, and in the symbols. (The current rites have shifted emphasis away from the powers of each grade, and so are not nearly so clear about them.) The power was explicitly conveyed, usually with the formula "Receive the power of... (Accipe potestatem...)" according to each grade.

Moreover, the sacred powers of the bishop and of the priest were clearly and dogmatically defined by the Magisterium, most coherently at Trent (especially Session XXIII), but not uniquely at that Council. Bishops have the fullness of the Holy Spirit, the apostolic power of governance of the Church, and the power to confirm and to ordain. In the ordination rite, the bishop-elect was ordained when the consecrating bishops each put their hands on his head and said, "Receive the Holy Spirit." The other powers were enumerating in the signs of the rite: chrismation of the hands, giving of the pastoral staff, ring, and miter, and giving of the Gospels (apostolic commission).

Priests have the power to confect the Eucharist "in persona Christi," and to absolve from sins (Confession and Anointing). In the ordination rite, the newly ordained priest was then told, "Receive the power to offer the sacrifice to God, and to celebrate Masses, as much for the living as for the dead."

The exact sacred power of the deacon (or the subdeacon) has never been dogmatically defined with this same precision. But it is dogmatic that the deacon has sacred power (Trent, Session XXIII, chapter 4; Lumen Gentium 18), and this has always been understood of the subdeacon, too, although not to my knowledge asserted dogmatically. Major Orders convey powers, and the lex orandi is the lex credendeni. Thus, what is true of bishop and priest in the ordination rite is also true of deacon (and subdeacon) in the same rite.

3. What is the deacon's "sacra potestas?" This has never, as far as I know, be dogmatically defined. However, for more than twelve centuries, every deacon ordained in the Latin Church was told, "Receive the power of reading the Gospels in the Church of God, as much for the living as for the dead." Nor is there any other tradition about the deacon's sacred power floating around out there. The Church has always believed, then, and expressed clearly in her lex orandi, that the deacon's sacred power is to proclaim the Gospel within the Church.

This is why reading the Gospel is the deacon's characteristic function within the Church's liturgy. This function is the most immediate manifestation of the deacon's sacred power, in exactly the same way that presiding at Mass and offering Confession and Absolution are the most immediate manifestations of the priest's sacred power. It should be noted, however, that while the priest always exercises his sacred power "in persona Christi," such that it is in fact Christ who changes bread and wine into His own Body and Blood, and Christ who says, "I absolve you...," there's no parallel tradition of the deacon acting "in persona Christi."

The other parts of the deacon's ministry, of sacrament and of charity, relate to the proclamation of the Gospel in fairly direct ways. The Gospel is at the root of all the Church's teachings, so catechesis and sacramental preparation are derivative forms of proclaiming the Gospel. Baptism is the beginning of receiving the Gospel in the Church, so deacons can baptize (e.g., Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch). The Gospel must be proclaimed in action as well as by words, so deacons "sacramentalize the service of the Church," as Pope John Paul II put it.

Again, this is exactly parallel to how the other parts of a priest's ministry relate to the Eucharist (e.g., Lumen Gentium 28 - see more below); and to how the various parts of a bishop's ministry in the "fullness of orders" fit together in the three-fold responsibility to govern, sanctify, and teach.

4. Where in the Gospel does Christ give the Apostles such a power? Lk 9:1-6 is the most clear (parallel passages in Mt 10 and Mk 6). The Twelve receive the power to "keryssein" (preach, herald), and they went out "euaggelizomenoi" ("gospelizing," proclaiming the Gospel or coming of the Kingdom). Luke is most interesting on this point, because in Lk 10, he recounts a separate commission for the 72 disciples, with a different vocabulary of what exactly they are commissioned to do. They are not given a power ("dynamis"), but told only to "say" ("legete," 10:8) the Kingdom is coming.

This same power to "kerygein" the "kerygma," and to "euaggelizein," that is, to proclaim the Good News, is precisely what is given by the Twelve to the Seven in Acts 6, by the laying on of hands. Philip, using this gift of sacred power, explicitly "kerygein-ed" Christ to the Samaritans (8:5), many of whom were healed of demons and baptized; and "euaggelizein-ed" Christ to the eunuch (8:35), who was also baptized. Stephen's trial before the Sanhedrin is unmistakably a "kerygma," completed in his martyrdom (baptism of blood), which led directly to the conversion of the witness Saul.

5. How does this defend the transitional diaconate? The end of the deacon's proclaiming the Gospel, in every ministerial context, is the relationship of the hearer with Christ. In the case of initial conversion, that means baptism first; in the case of the baptized, it means the Eucharist. Deacons proclaim in order to bring people to Christ, and the deepest union with Christ in this life is the Eucharist.

The wisdom of the Tradition is that proclaiming leads to deeper union with Christ. Priests also have the power of proclaiming, in order to make their ministry of uniting and reconciling (Eucharist and absolution) more accessible and more fruitful. The one leads naturally to the other. (This is as it must be, if there is in fact one priesthood of Christ in the New Covenant; but we needn't get into the unity argument here.)

Lumen Gentium 28 states most clearly the theological relationship of the power of proclaiming to the power of confecting and absolving, in the ministry of priests:

By the power of the sacrament of Orders, in the image of Christ the eternal high Priest, they are consecrated to preach the Gospel and shepherd the faithful and to celebrate divine worship, so that they are true priests of the New Testament. Partakers of the function of Christ the sole Mediator, on their level of ministry, they announce the divine word to all. They exercise their sacred function especially in the Eucharistic worship or the celebration of the Mass by which acting in the person of Christ and proclaiming His Mystery they unite the prayers of the faithful with the sacrifice of their Head and renew and apply in the sacrifice of the Mass until the coming of the Lord the only sacrifice of the New Testament, namely that of Christ offering Himself once for all a spotless Victim to the Father. For the sick and the sinners among the faithful, they exercise the ministry of alleviation and reconciliation and they present the needs and the prayers of the faithful to God the Father.

To be true priests of Christ, both in His image and "in persona," priests must preach the Gospel, shepherd the people to Christ, and celebrate the sacraments. They cannot mediate like Christ the Mediator without announcing the Gospel. They cannot unite the faithful to the sacrifice of the altar without proclaiming the mystery of Christ's death and resurrection. This is simply what it means to be a priest of Jesus Christ.

If, however, priests were not ordained deacons first, then they would never receive the sacred power of proclaiming. Like the 72 disciples, they would be able to "say" the Kingdom, but not "proclaim" it with "power and authority." The healing sacraments would be disconnected from the Word, quite contrary to what Luke clearly says in 9:1-6, or what the Church has clearly stated in LG 28. They would not be able to preach in the same ministerial acts as shepherding and celebrating; they would not be able to mediate like Christ, and they would not be able to unite the faithful to the sacrifice of the altar.

In defense of the Transitional Diaconate - an historical argument

Recently, Dcn. Greg Kandra picked up a ruminative post by Catholic blogger Dr. Gerard Nadal, wondering about the significance of the footwashing at the Last Supper (Jn 13). It goes beyond the Tradition's reading of this passage to see in it two ordinations (that is, Christ separately instituting both the diaconal and the priestly grades of Holy Orders in this way), but Dr. Nadal's main point was perfectly correct:

“If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash one another’s feet. I have given you a model to follow, so that as I have done for you, you should also do.”

With those words, Jesus conformed His apostles to Himself as servants, and this before He instituted the Eucharist. Going ahead to the dilemma of the Apostles in Acts, we see them exercising their ministry of service until the growth of the Church placed too many demands on them. When they laid hands on the seven they were transmitting what had been given to them at the Last Supper, namely, the ministry of service.

One might more precisely say that Christ gave the Apostles the "ministry of service" in several pieces, not only at the Last Supper, and that the Apostles gave the Seven only a specific portion of the ministry of service they had already received - namely, that ministry for serving the Church through preaching, evangelizing, and baptizing, but not including the Eucharist or Confirmation (see the ministry of Stephen and Philip, recorded in Acts 7 and 8).

The very first commenter on Dcn. Greg's post brings up the question of the "transitional" diaconate, which we've talked about before. It's not as much a tangent as it seems; if Acts 6 really is the hierarchy of Holy Orders in nascent form, replicating the experience of the Apostles receiving sequential and cumulative gifts of authority for ministry (wherever one might locate those gifts in the Gospels), then the "transitional" diaconate is implied therein. Thus, the commenter asks, "But I’m wondering if there is evidence that the practice goes back to earlier patristic or even apostolic times. I ask because Deacon Bill Ditewig has written that it is not necessary–and, with the permanent diaconate restored, perhaps not desirable either."

I disagree with Dcn. Ditewig rather substantially on this point. I argue that the prior ordination to the diaconate of candidates to the priesthood (what we now call the "transitional" diaconate) is not only theologically sound, but that it is theologically necessary, and that it is the majority position attested in the Tradition.

So here, in a very schematic form, is the historical argument from the Tradition in favor of the "transitional" diaconate. The theological arguments will take other posts to engage.

In the earliest years of the Church, the Apostles are alive and using fully the various pastoral and sacramental powers given by Christ. It's not debated that whatever authority the Apostles had in the earliest Church was given by Christ, nor that they used that authority in accordance with what Christ willed for them. As the Church was growing in Jerusalem and elsewhere, the Apostles saw the need for pastoral help, and foresaw the need for continuity in Christ's pastoral powers, so they "ordained" (some quibble over the semantics of that word) the Seven as deacons, and individually, they recruited others also (Paul ordains Timothy, e.g.) as "elders" ("prebyteroi", i.e. priests/bishops). There's no stable vocabulary yet, and the roles are to some extent still being worked out in practice, but some elements (laying on of hands, basic relationship to Eucharist ("presbyteroi" confect, deacons assist and distribute), authority to teach, community with the original Twelve, etc.) are consistently recognizable even in the earliest period.

After the deaths of the Apostles (many in the 60's) and destruction of the Temple in 70, the authority of the Apostles is clearly handed on in full to their successors (Paul to Timothy, John to Polycarp to Irenaeus, Peter to Linus to Cletus to Clement, etc.). The two distinct subordinate degrees of sharing in that apostolic authority are recognizably stabilizing into priesthood and diaconate; the three highest grades are already in place. The letter of St. Clement of Rome to the Corinthians, ca. 90, clearly shows this hierarchical relationship well-formed (see ch 40-42), as do the Didache (ca. 90-100), the letters of St. Ignatius from ca. 115 (e.g, To the Trallians), the First Apology of Justin Martyr (ca. 150; see ch. 65-67), and several other sources. By the end of the first century, the Church has firmly established as its governance one bishop per urban church (what will become a "diocese"), with several priests and deacons to assist; along with the basic rules about the bishop's legitimacy through apostolic succession, etc. The details of that structure have changed over the centuries, as the world has changed, but the primary elements of that plan developed very quickly and have remained remarkably stable ever since.

In these first- and second-century sources, there's little evidence that this clear hierarchy means the same hierarchical sequence in receiving Orders; but also little evidence that it doesn't mean this. In this stage of development, the existence of the hierarchy is clear, and the main duties of each of the three grades is clear, but the manner(s) of ordaining, not clear.

We have more information by the third century. The subdiaconate and various minor orders are attested from the third century (e.g. Pope Cornelius's letter to Bp Fabian of Antioch, 251 or 252; this state of affairs in Rome is clearly not new). These too are arranged in the same hierarchy, under the grades of bishop, priest, and deacon. By the middle of the third century, we have a glimpse of what is considered normal practice in the Life of Cyprian: Cyprian was a young convert from paganism, and the strength and maturity of his faith was deemed great enough to call him to Orders very quickly after his baptism: "In short, in respect of God's grace, there was no delay, no postponement—I have said but little—he immediately received the presbyterate and the priesthood. For who is there that would not entrust every grade of honour to one who believed with such a disposition?" We're not told specifically how he was advanced to the priesthood (and not long after, to become Bishop of Carthage), but the author, Pontius the Deacon, does say he's skipping most of the details. Note also the implication (not definitive, I admit) that Cyprian was in fact "entrusted with every grade of honor," that is, with each of the grades of minor and major orders.

This implication is significantly stronger when we see the ordination of the priest Novatian in Rome, at the same time as Cyprian in Carthage. He had been baptized in danger of death, and never confirmed. He was ordained a priest, apparently without going through the preceding grades, and this was unusual enough to cause much comment by the clergy of Rome and elsewhere. He still functioned as a priest, so his ordination wasn't deemed invalid, but it was clearly not the norm in Rome about 250 to ordain without confirmation, or to skip the lower grades (at least the diaconate) before the priesthood.

Most probably, what these implications mean is that Cyprian would have (and Novatian should have) received the grades of lector and deacon: in the fourth century, the Council of Sardica (343), canon 13 (or 10 in some lists), mandates receiving the lectorate before diaconate, and diaconate before priesthood, and priesthood before episcopate. Again, this is pretty clearly not a new arrangement, but reflects normative practice and expectation.

Lastly, the ordination of Ambrose in 374 is most notable. Multiple sources attest to the circumstances of his selection as Bishop of Milan by popular acclaim, after the death of the Arian bishop Auxentius. Ambrose was a catecumen (pretty normal in the fourth century to postpone baptism), so over the course of 8 days he was baptized, confirmed, and received all the grades of minor and major orders in sequence. To my knowledge, this is the earliest example of which we are completely certain of this pattern.

In practice, we have examples from most of the first thousand years of the Church, in which someone "skips a grade" - deacon directly to bishop, subdeacon or acolyte directly to priest, etc. But even in these cases, it seems that "cumulative and sequential" is being observed in some way. This pattern of cumulative and sequential ordination, as we noted, reflects the pattern of Christ's preparation of the Apostles. It stands as the normative pattern, even if its implementation (which grades in which order) does not become standardized until rather late.

One of the best examples of promoting the full (all grades, in order) understanding of the cumulative-and-sequential pattern is Caesarius of Arles (bishop, 502-547). He was one of the great bishops of the early Church, whose leadership in the chaos of early Merovingian Gaul proved to be an anchor for the next thousand years. Not the least of his works was the promotion of good preaching and good order among the clergy. He wrote a summary of canons and ideals about the clergy, sometimes called "Statuta Ecclesiae Antiqua (Ancient Statutes of the Church)," which codified both the what and the how of the eight grades of minor and major orders, in the manner which became universal in the Latin Church, until the recent changes of Pope Paul VI.

Bishops like Caesarius, Ambrose, and Gregory the Great promoted a good use of the sequence of grades, using it to prepare men for the next grade and to hold back, without losing all the gifts of, those who weren't suitable to advance. Going through all the steps in order has never, in and of itself, been a problem for the clergy. It is a mistake to conflate the hierarchy and sequence of the clerical grades with the so-called "cursus honorum" (clerical careerism, and other abuses of the hierarchical system). Unfortunately, Dcn. Ditewig makes this mistake in promoting doing away with the transitional diaconate. Keeping the transitional diaconate does not imply keeping the abuses labelled as "cursus honorum," but does imply maintaining the apostolic and evangelical model of cumulative spiritual gifts and authority for the ministry. Detailing exactly what gifts and authority would be lost to priests without the transitional diaconate will take us into the theological arguments, in another post.