The Coolest Fundraiser Around

Dear Readers,

Please take a look at a massive fundraising (and investment) effort I have just launched after months of preparation.

It’s The St. Francis 100

There is a lot of news about it which I can’t yet share. But I can tell you that it’s the real deal. I get a lot of blank stares and messages not replied to these days – I think people are of the opinion I’ve lost my mind a bit with the things I’ve been taking on… But again, it’s the real deal. More news to come soon.

I don’t actually like being front and center, on camera, the one directly responsible, the one people praise, etc… I would have preferred to get someone else to be the poster boy. But, that’s not the way it is. So I’m putting myself on the line.

I hope you will consider being an early partner in a movement which will reshape the world of Catholic philanthropy…

God bless you,
-Eamonn

Ireland – Weeks 5 and 6

Eamonn Clark, STL

What’s hot with the young kids right now is learning Irish.

Maybe it’s part of the search for some kind of identity “qua” Irish. Now that the English aren’t oppressors, and the Church isn’t “status quo” as a point of reference for Irish culture, it is a bit difficult to nail down precisely what it is to be Irish, other than simply being born here, of a certain stock, etc. The language is one of the only major things mooring the country to itself.

Most Irish don’t speak the language. Sometimes (and somewhat incorrectly) called “Gaelic,” Irish is a very hard thing to master, or even get a grip on.

It’s a challenge, and a unifying cultural symbol which connects people to the past, in view of the future.

I think this is also why young people in general are drawn to the older forms of the liturgy. It’s a challenge, and a root which ties one to something whence one comes. There is interest in this in Ireland, albeit in a different form from the major hot-spots of motion on the old mass, namely, the USA and France. I am still getting familiarized with that situation, so I will just point out that the note is there in the song, not quite as a refrain but more as something of a leitmotif. It’s in the background, but it’s noticeable, and it means something.

I’ve been getting around to different events and places these past two weeks. The time flies – like a carpet being pulled out from my feet. A wedding, a wake, a monastery… All things that Irish do typically rather well historically.

Irish also do hospitality very well. I’ve been made quite welcome during my stay. My picture’s even been featured in a national newspaper. A story for another day…

A story I must tell is of Declan’s Rock – or, more specifically, the time a bishop tried to destroy it back in the 1800’s. St. Declan, whose feast day was two days ago, was mentioned in an earlier post. There is a whole charming narrative about this particular rock floating ashore, a connection to a bell, and the prophetic claim that connected the rock to where Declan would rise to meet Christ on the last day. Well, the local bishop some centuries ago thought all this was a load of crap. “The people with their superstitions. They need to wake up. It’s clearly from an ancient glacier, the science is obvious.” This was the attitude.

But in a country of fairy forts and Mass paths (a topic for another post), the bishop should have known better. Having found two adolescent boys to help him crush the rock down, the Bishop arrived in Ardmore to find the whole town standing up on the hill overlooking the beach where the rock sits. Staring the three of them down, silently. The kids turned to His Lordship the Bishop, and handed him the hammers, saying, “You first.” A strange reversal of the incident of the Woman Caught in Adultery! It was, in fact, the Bishop who needed to wake up. He walked away.

The people kept their rock. The initiation ritual into “Irish Catholicism” as such, which I will perhaps do myself one day, and which the Bishop was likely especially annoyed by, involves walking out to the rock, getting down on one’s stomach, and shimmying through the hole underneath to emerge from the other side. Just be sure the tide is right – or you’ll drown, as I’ve recently been informed.

Weddings, wakes, and the cloister. All kinds of death to self to be reborn in a greater way, and, thus, all kinds of initiation. All traditions which connect us to our past, despite the struggle, pain, and change involved. And all involve – hopefully – the right kind of hospitality.

Ireland does it particularly well.

Naomh Declan, guigh orainn!
(St. Declan, pray for us!)

Ireland – Week 4

Eamonn Clark, STL

Dublin is a city of contradictions.

It’s a place where there are churches and bars on every street. You can see a pious old woman on her way back from mass and a gaggle of girls with the most vulgar tastes in dress standing on the same corner waiting for a bus. You can find rabble-rousers and men of the most refined manners in the same shop. There goes a priest, there goes a trans-rights activist.

It’s a city at war with itself.

In truth, Ireland is a complex country. It’s not complex like America – America (and Americans) are complex because of parts… lots of “things to do.” Ireland (and Irish) are complex because of layers… lots of “things going on in there.” (Yes, yes, it’s an oversimplification. Got it.) The subtle and amiable wit of your average Irish gentleman is counterbalanced by a charming habit of self-deprecation or at least humility. (Irish tend not to brag.)

Even the Irish flag symbolizes a conflict, represented by the layers of the tricolor – the Orange and the Green… Protestants and Catholics. White in the middle as an aspiration of peace.

Ireland is just barely big enough to be really anonymous if you want to be and small enough to be a well-known figure without being some kind of phenom. Though it’s not quite like the Middle East or Iceland, where everyone knows exactly how they are related to everyone else, there’s nevertheless only ever a few degrees of separation between any two people. Major public figures – musicians, politicians, athletes, prelates – they are just kind of part of the family, and part of the story.

Everyone is sort of in it together, in a tangible way. That means all the tensions and wounds of poor old Ireland are shared collectively somehow, too. So is a lot of the unwillingness to talk about it all. This extends from the relatively recent violence (late 1960’s-1998) between North and South during the Troubles, to the ecclesiastical abuse crises (plural) that unfolded on everyone’s watch – and in which therefore basically the whole of Irish society was complicit, in one way or another, to some degree. It’s not polite table conversation. Or polite conversation anywhere else, even on a blog. But the prolonged failure to wrestle with these important collective memories only serves to bury them deeper. What does that do to a soul, of an individual and of a country? Perhaps forms some kind of neurosis?

This theme of repressed pain over the abuse crises in particular was explored and driven home very well by Derek Scally in his recent book “The Best Catholics in the World,” a must-read for anyone interested in the Irish situation. It’s not an entirely balanced take, but it’s an important one.

Dublin, the cultural and political capital of the Republic of Ireland, is something of a symbol of the Irish psyche. There’s some kind of neurosis that is manifesting itself there. No doubt, most Irish would resent that. And that’s kind of the point. In Dublin there are plenty of “normal people,” but there is also a very vocal minority of well-funded and coddled extreme leftists, a large number of ruffians and other kinds of low-culture individuals, and now a significant influx of immigrants (many of them seemingly economic opportunists rather than refugees). Then there is also the undercurrent of the echoes of the strong piety that once animated the city, just barely hanging on, with approximately 1% mass attendance any given Sunday. Now, all that does not represent Ireland. And yet it does, because that’s a major part of what Dublin is, and Dublin is, well, Dublin. So there’s tension between what is most culturally and internationally identifiable about Ireland, and the greater part of the country, or “real Ireland.” All this gives Dublin a uniquely charged energy which is rather hard to describe. And that energy sits on top of the rest of the country, at odds with it.

Layers and contradictions.

These thoughts came to me (in a less-developed form) at the Dublin Rally for Life the other day. It was a good crowd, maybe 8,000-10,000 or so, from all over the country. I already found myself running into people I’ve met during my stay, and that without trying to meet up. It’s not the same as D.C. – smaller, yes, and also lacking the “organizational splendor” that comes with the sort of funding and personnel involved in the March for Life. It’s a much quainter operation. But it has heart.

The constitutional referendum on abortion in Ireland passed by a very slim margin a few years ago (2018). Dubliners would have been the outsized supporters of this. So there were some unfriendly onlookers as we went down one of the main thoroughfares of the city, ending up next to the River Liffey. But there were also people walking by who were openly supportive. A mix. More layers and contradictions to explore.

Like the Troubles or the abuse crises, abortion by this point has touched just about everyone in Ireland somehow. Will the awful reality of 31,000 unborn being killed be yet another deep wound to leave alone for now and later psychologically bury? Or will this tragedy be too much to ignore and suppress, something that runs up too hard against the deeper cultural values which “real Ireland” still possesses deep down? Only time will tell. In the meantime, the Liffey keeps on flowing, and Dublin keeps on changing.

Ireland – Week 3

Eamonn Clark, STL

Nobody knows what the round towers were for.

Were they defense towers, or some kind of refuge for monks hiding from Viking raiders? Unlikely, but possible. Were they watchtowers? Belltowers? Astronomy towers? Communication towers? Maybe some of all of this? Who knows. These towers, so distinctive to Ireland, are a mystery.

On my last visit to this island, I had an extended visit to Ardmore, which boasts one of the most well-preserved round towers in the country.

Ardmore is where organized Christianity really began in Ireland. There had already been a small smattering of Christian presence on the island when St. Declan was born, as he was baptized by a priest. But there was no real structure yet, just individual Christians here and there. The bishop Palladius had been sent on a mission by the pope in 431, but no real apostolic efforts seem to have meaningfully penetrated what was then a thick forest covering essentially the entire land.

Declan was educated in Rome and ordained a bishop by the pope, and he returned to Ireland as perhaps its first proper missionary, after meeting with and agreeing to a strategy with none other than St. Patrick, who would follow behind him in some time. (There are four pre-Patrician saints of Munster, each a bishop.) The legend of the return of Declan is its own fascinating tale, nestled in the murky gap between fact and fiction. I’ll save the story for another time, as well as the anecdote about the local bishop in the 1800’s who had a different take on the popular piety associated with “Declan’s Rock” and his comical endeavor to destroy it.

St. Declan’s Rock

The site of Ardmore became homebase for Declan, where a monastery was built according to Patrick’s instructions. Eventually he retreated into the wilderness nearby, where he lived in a small house as a hermit. Ardmore overlooks the sea, where Declan made his famous landing.

The “pattern” at Ardmore involves walking around some of these locations while reciting certain prayers, and, most distinctively, marking the wall near “Declan’s Well” (very likely the same spring he used, next to his house) with crosses by using a small stone. This has been going on for hundreds and hundreds of years.

You can see the engraved crosses in the stone above.

Soon after Declan came Patrick, whose missionary endeavors were more successful and thus more famous. You’ll notice, however, that Patrick concentrated his efforts in the northern part of the island – that’s because Declan had already been quite successful in the south.

St. Declan is now buried in a small tomb adjacent to the monastery which was for centuries the center of perhaps the most powerful ecclesiastical territory in Ireland. Now the monastery is in ruins, and the Diocese of Ardmore has long been swallowed, not even memorialized by a hyphenated name, as so many such dioceses are… it’s just gone.

The ground around it is host, most likely, to approximately 10,000 graves, almost all of them unmarked, and many of them likely quite ancient.

More graves, including St. Declan’s, inside the house-shaped mausoleum.

It’s a mesmerizing place. Haunting, almost.

I find myself increasingly fascinated both with graveyards and with archaeology. There is something so existentially alarming about old things and people, and the markers that indicate them. We stand on top of an entire world that has come and gone, and one day others will stand on top of ours. No doubt, there will be “digital archaeology” in a thousand years… But there will still be a need to dig stuff up and touch it. I’ve been privileged this past year to get my hands on some very interesting texts in various archives around Rome… the thrill of holding a manuscript or book that you know you are the first to handle in 50, 100, 200 or more years, is just really special. And I have a tactile mindset about even my own past – I want to be in this place and that, just to feel connected with my own life, to help make sense of it, and somehow thereby to see what it means. I’ve noticed that not everybody cares about that the way I do. I guess this same sort of impulse is at least part of what attracts me to the older liturgy… It connects me to those who’ve gone before, makes them alive again in some way, helps me to understand where I am from – and where I am to go.

I was at a gathering of priests a few days ago; the men were celebrating various major ordination anniversaries. I sat in on the mass. It was pointed out that there were a few hundred years of priesthood between them all. While contemporaneous, the cumulative experience of priests is nevertheless a bit like Ardmore. How many secrets held under the Seal… dead things, which are hidden underground now – finished, out of sight, out of mind. How many words or encounters which for them were not significant enough to remember, but were so powerful for others that they changed someone’s whole life and even saved their soul. How many repetitive but intentional rituals done, over and over, prayers and signs repeated on and on, to the edification of the faithful who devoutly attend to them. How many unique and always somewhat mysterious ministries – whatever they are, always reaching up towards God in service of His people… like a round tower.

And a saint lies buried within each one.

St. Declan of Ardmore, pray for us.

On the New DDF Prefect

Eamonn Clark, STL

As the Catholic world is finding out, we have a newly-appointed Prefect of the DDF.

I remind my readers that the DDF preoccupies itself largely with disciplining clergy who do terrible things. So if you’re thinking the new guy will just be full-time thinking up strange ideas, no, he’ll have other work to do.

Below is an old essay I posted some years ago on this man’s role in and opinion on Amoris Laetitia. I offer it here with only a small edit. It may deserve further treatment later.

No, he is not a good pick. But one could do worse.

The Rector of the Pontifical Catholic University of Argentina, Archbishop Victor Manuel Fernández, has published a summary defense of the apostolic exhortation Amoris Laetitia, which he helped draft. (English) The Archbishop is widely believed to be a close confidant of the Holy Father.

Though I had said in a former post that CRM would not be engaging further in debate on Amoris Laetitia, given that we have gone through some internal changes, and given the extremely significant defense which has been written by Abp. Fernández and the dearth of exhaustive and substantial counterarguments launched at this document specifically thus far, I publish here a commentary and exploration of this article in 3 parts, using the English translation linked to above (courtesy of Andrew Guernsey – used with permission).

–CHAPTER VIII OF AMORIS LAETITIA: WHAT IS LEFT AFTER THE STORM–

After several months of intense activity by sectors that oppose the novelties of the eighth chapter of Amoris Laetitia – minorities, but hyperactive ones – or of strong attempts to disguise them, the war seems to have reached a stalemate. It is now worth pausing to acknowledge that which is concretely what Francis leaves to us as an irreversible novelty.

The claim about who is really the majority is debatable, but it should be remembered that in any case truth is not at the service of democracy. On we go then, into the body of the article to examine the “irreversible novelty.”

“THERE ARE NO OTHER INTERPRETATIONS”

If one is interested to know how the Pope himself interprets what he wrote, the answer is very explicit in his commentary on the guidelines of the Bishops of the Buenos Aires Region. After discussing the possibility that the divorced in a new union live in continence, they say that “in other, more complex circumstances, and when it is not possible to obtain a declaration of nullity, the aforementioned option may not, in fact, be feasible.” They then add that

“nonetheless, it is equally possible to undertake a journey of discernment. If one arrives at the recognition that, in a particular case, there are limitations that diminish responsibility and culpability (cf. AL 301-302), particularly when a person judges that he would fall into a subsequent fault by damaging the children of the new union, Amoris Laetitia opens up the possibility of access to the sacraments of Reconciliation and the Eucharist (cf. footnotes 336 and 351) (Bishops of the Pastoral Region of Buenos Aires, “Criterios básicos para la aplicación del capítulo VIII de Amoris laetitia” [Basic criteria for the application of chapter VIII of Amoris Laetitia], Buenos Aires, September 5, 2016, 6)).”

It is not clear what the Buenos Aires guidelines intend from the text. What do they mean with regard to a declaration of nullity not being possible to obtain? If they are speaking about so-called “conflict marriages,” which a tribunal is not really built to investigate (albeit some progress is being made on the point), or where some situation makes approaching a tribunal literally impossible or extremely difficult due to external factors like distance or danger, that could be stated easily enough (and would surely make for an interesting conversation). If they are speaking about someone who petitioned a tribunal and received a denial of his or her request for a declaration of nullity, then the entire authority of the law and court is undermined and the rights of the other party in the prior union are trampled. How do mitigating factors for objectively wrong acts change the application of c. 915, which is not about subjective guilt? Do the bishops only have in mind private reception? How would the good intention of protecting children change the adulterous act itself, without falling into a consequentialist vision of normative ethics (condemned by the Church)? How would a person have firm purpose of amendment sufficient for absolution without at least formally intending to avoid adulterous acts, even though he or she sees the real possibility of failure, given the expectation of duress? What kind of complex circumstances do the bishops envision in their exceptions? Does “not feasible” mean “very difficult” or “impossible”? There are many questions and few answers in the Buenos Aires guidelines.

Francis immediately sent them a formal letter stating that “the document is very good and completely explains the meaning of chapter VIII of Amoris Laetitia.” But it is important to note that he adds: “There are no other interpretations” (Letter from the Holy Father to Mons. Sergio Alfredo Fenoy, Delegate of the Pastoral Region of Buenos Aires, September 5, 2016). Therefore, it is unnecessary to expect another response from the Pope.

Because the Buenos Aires guidelines are ambiguous (and they themselves are interpreting the also ambiguous Footnote 351), it does not seem possible to make a reasonable claim that there is nothing left to discuss or explain.

It could be called into question that the pope would clarify his interpretation in a letter to a group of bishops. But, in fact, this has happened other times. To give an example, let us recall an incident about the interpretation of Vatican Council I. The German bishops responded to Chancellor Bismark, who argued that a Roman centralism had been defined that weakened episcopal authority. With their response, they rejected that interpretation of the Council. Pius IX endorsed the interpretation of those Bishops with a letter (March 12, 1875) and with the consistory of March 15, 1875 (DH 3112-3117). In a footnote to Lumen Gentium 27 the letter of Pius IX to the German Bishops is quoted, whereby its hermeneutical authority is confirmed.

Surely, nobody is questioning the competency of the pope to comment authoritatively on his own document. What is in question is whether this private letter legislates new law, or a binding and authoritative interpretation of existing law. I suggest that this has certainly not occurred – there is such a lack of clarity in the Buenos Aires guidelines that it is impossible to draw a definitive conclusion about what the text actually means. The Holy Father could indeed write such legislation or give a new authoritative interpretation of existing law which contradicts past authoritative interpretation, or he could answer the pending dubia (laden as they are with citations which would adequately settle the matter), which, for whatever reason, he has chosen not to do.

Obviously, a letter from the Pope does not have the same weight as an Encyclical, but, as we see, it can have a great practical, decisive importance to explain the correct interpretation of a text of greater weight. If the Pope has received a unique charism in the Church in the service of the correct interpretation of the divine Word – the charism given to Peter to bind and to loose and to confirm his brethren in faith – this cannot exclude his ability to interpret the documents he himself wrote.

Here, the Archbishop draws a comparison between “the divine Word” and “the documents [the Pope] himself wrote.” There is some analogy, insofar as the pope can indeed write infallible documents. The proper object, however, of papal infallibility is nothing other than what has already been at least implicitly revealed by God through Scripture or Tradition and is in the deposit of Faith. The charism is usually used because there is some controversy that requires an infallible definition for the good of the faithful. (Normally, this is done through an ecumenical council.) The proper object of infallibility would certainly not extend to interpreting the pope’s own documents except inasmuch as they are themselves expositions of the deposit of Faith. This means that a pope could fallibly interpret his own intentions, let alone produce fallible utterances when enunciating anything other than the deposit of Faith in a universally binding way which does not contradict past teaching. In short: no, the pope is not infallible here. 

“PERFECT CONTINENCE”

St. John Paul II’s proposal to the divorced in a new union to live in perfect continence, as a requirement to make access to Eucharistic communion possible, was already an important novelty. Many resisted this step. Still some today do not accept this proposal because they believe it leads to relativism. On the other hand, we must note a later novelty in the language of Benedict XVI. While Pope John Paul II asked them to “assume the commitment to live in full continence” (FC 84), Benedict XVI proposed to them, more delicately, “to commit themselves” to live “as brother and sister” (SC 29b).

In the judgment of Pope John Paul II, this was permissible only if the possibility of scandal was morally certain to be excluded, in accord with the true spirit of c. 915 which aims at preventing the sin of scandal (and only indirectly at the sin of sacrilege). It certainly may be unwise for a couple to separate civilly, though one or both remain in another bond according to Divine and ecclesiastical law. John Paul II was also insistent, as was Benedict XVI, on continence. One is led to some head scratching by the Archbishop’s implied dichotomy between continence and living as brother and sister. Surely, brothers and sisters ought to be continent in their relationship, yes?

Francis recognizes the possibility of proposing perfect continence to the divorced in a new union, but admits that there may be difficulties in practicing it (cf. footnote 329). Footnote 364 gives a place to administering the sacrament of Reconciliation to them even when new falls are foreseeable. There, Francis calls into question priests who “demand of penitents a purpose of amendment so lacking in nuance that it causes mercy to be obscured by the pursuit of a supposedly pure justice” (AL 312). And there he takes up an important statement of St. John Paul II, who held that even the anticipation of a new fall “should not prejudice the authenticity of the resolution” (Letter to Cardinal W. Baum, 03/22/1996, quoted in the footnote.). Against this cautious precision of St. John Paul II, some seem to demand a kind of strict control of what others do in intimacy. We must heartily congratulate those who manage to live in perfect continence, enriching their daily cohabitation in various ways. But that does not imply ignoring that others have serious difficulties in achieving this.

There is nothing wrong with this except the implication that there is any opposition between the firm purpose of amendment necessary for absolution and “strict control of what others do in intimacy.” A confessor would indeed be bound to “control strictly” that a person not be “intimate” with someone other than his or her spouse according to Divine and ecclesiastical law. If there is not an intention to try to avoid this sin, there can be no absolution – the penitent does not have true purpose of amendment.

When the need to avoid scandal is spoken about, we must note that this only happens when people “flaunt” their situation as if it were correct (cf. AL 297). Otherwise, scandal would also be given when the first marriage has been declared null, since probably many who see them go to confession and communion do not know about the annulment. For that matter, neither could they know whether they live as brother and sister or not. The objective fault is not “manifest” insofar as it cannot be confirmed from the outside, and all deserve the benefit of the doubt. Let us leave this matter – in fact, unverifiable – to the intimacy of the discernment of the member of the faithful with his pastor.

The Archbishop’s argument is difficult to see through if one does not understand this key principle behind c. 915: the reasonable suspicion of obstinate perseverance in grave sin based on a reality which is generically publicly available knowledge. The primary concern of c. 915 is to prevent scandal, and its object, apart from those under some penalty, is those persons whose sufficiently manifest and exterior (or “objective”) conditions would be reasonably assumed to imply obstinate perseverance in grave sin if those conditions were actually known. To be sure, “good faith” ought to be applied in the distribution of the Sacraments. A priest ought not barrel into a litany of questions about the personal lives of every individual in his parish, confessional, or Communion line, but when an irregularity becomes known it must be addressed in a certain way which will indeed depend on the reality of what occurs in private – if they are continent, then they must be ministered to privately, or provision must be made to preclude scandal. If they are living “more uxorio,” then they must be helped to understand that they cannot present themselves for Holy Communion, for, if their irregular status were to become known (even if known only independently of their activity), which is certainly possible given human nature and the public character of civil marriage, then there would be grave scandal given and likely taken. If the couple has obtained an annulment, and they have a convalidation to regularize their union, then they have publicly removed the possibility for giving scandal in this way. That scandal may still be taken is possible, and adequate provision can and should be made, but there is no longer an irregular situation to discover or actually know: they are indeed not irregular, so no revelation or knowledge is possible to the contrary. The couple who practice continence in an irregular union have themselves the obligation at least to be sure that the possibility of scandal is excluded before their public reception, lest it become known that they are in an irregular union; people would have the reasonable assumption that they would indeed be living as married people, and scandal would be taken. It is the reasonable assumption of the grave sin that generally goes with such adultery,contingent upon the reasonable possibility of revelation of irregularity, which c. 915 aims at avoiding here – “flaunting” as the Archbishop envisions it need not occur for either to happen in most parish settings. (I have never been to Argentina, and so perhaps there is some unique situation there which allows for what the Archbishop says to make some practical sense.) Publicly civilly remarrying after a divorce without an annulment, and publicly receiving Holy Communion, certainly do seem to be “flaunting” in a way that is sufficient to cause plenty of gossip, loss of respect for the Sacraments and their ministers, and even imitation, should part or all of the truth come out.

The great resistance that this issue provokes in some groups indicates that this question, beyond its importance in itself, breaks a rigid mental structure, very concentrated in issues of sexuality, and it forces them to broaden their perspectives. This is why Francis asks pastors to help the faithful “to treat the weak with the logic of compassion, avoiding aggravation or unduly harsh or hasty judgements.” (AL 308).

The claim that the “conservative” approach has a concentration on sexuality is easily dismissed on account of the consistency of that approach with respect to other sorts of sins. On the contrary, the “liberal” approach seems fixated – it is only the sexual sins which warrant this special exemption from the timeless understanding of c. 915 and its predecessors. Why, for instance, does the somewhat secretive abortionist who has no other means of feeding his family not qualify for the same kind of exception as the divorced and remarried? He may indeed be faced with much pressure, have no easy options, and see a great good to be obtained by doing abortions, such as feeding his family. It would be immensely difficult for him to stop, and he could probably get away with nobody finding out that this is his business, if he doesn’t “flaunt” it, but instead goes to a parish far away from where he more openly practices his business… If he explains his situation to Father, could he too discern that he can go to Holy Communion, despite intending to continue performing abortions? Hopefully, it is clear that this would be totally inadmissible, not only because of the grave sin which is likely on his soul, but also because of the risk of someone discovering what has occurred – and that scandal being both taken and given due to the reality of such a decision by the parish priest who decided to give him a pass and implicitly confirmed him in his wicked practice. How much damage could be done! Further, we can ask if the abortionist could receive absolution without a firm purpose of amendment, viz., a real intention not to perform any more abortions? No. Presumably, the Archbishop would agree, but why then is there such a fixation on the 6th Commandment? In fact, the Archbishop will soon go on to argue that there are exceptions to the 5th Commandment (and the 7th), in addition to implying that there is one for the 6th. Why, then, can distressed abortionists not discern on the internal forum that they can present themselves publicly for Holy Communion? If we are going to be looser on c. 915, then we ought not be fixated on the sexual sins, right?

ABSOLUTE MORAL STANDARDS AND HUMAN LIMITS

Amoris Laetitia brings back a teaching of St. Thomas Aquinas on the application of the general principles: “The more we descend to matters of detail, the more frequently we encounter uncertainty” (AL 304). Francis does not affirm that general moral laws cannot provide for all situations, nor that they are incapable of impeding the decision of conscience. On the contrary, he says that “[they] set forth a good which can never be disregarded or neglected.” However, “in their formulation they cannot provide absolutely for all particular situations” (AL 304). It is the formulation of the norm that cannot provide for everything, not the norm itself. And this applies not only to positive laws, but even to our way of formulating the natural law in its various expressions. In this line, the International Theological Commission, within the Pontificate of Benedict XVI, stated: “Natural law could not be presented as an already established set of rules that impose themselves a priori on the moral subject; rather, it is a source of objective inspiration for the deeply personal process of making a decision” (International Theological Committee, “In Search of a Universal Ethic: A New Look at Natural Law,” Rome, 2009, 59.).

The teaching of St. Thomas being applied here is found in the Summa Theologica II-I, q. 94, a 4. In this Article Thomas is explaining, among other things, that the natural law is not always easily formulated in general principles which can account for every case. His example is the placing of goods in trust, which would normally require the holder to return those goods upon demand, though some wicked intention of the retriever might render the relinquishment of the goods unjust (cf. II-II q. 120 a. 1). The general formula “return entrusted property when asked to by the depositor,” does not account for the murderous intentions of one retrieving an entrusted sword. Needless to say, it would be quite easy to misapply this idea to suit one’s own purposes: one can simply claim, “The law doesn’t apply to this case.” The burden of proof, then, is upon the one who would claim that some widely accepted general formulation of natural law would not apply in a particular case. One situation which the general formulation against adultery would not seem to obtain would be the reasonably presumed but not entirely certain death of a spouse. Is it really a requirement of justice and chastity that one be absolutely sure that his or her spouse is dead? The Church does not seem to think so (see c. 1707), and attempting to remarry and living “more uxorio” while one’s spouse is hopelessly stranded on a desert island would not be the sin of adultery except in a material sense, with no guilt whatsoever. It remains to be shown, however, how the general principle fails in what seems to be its clearest application by Our Lord and by the Church throughout 2,000 years of legislation and moral theology, namely, to divorce and live “more uxorio” without proper certainty of nullity or dissolution (Pauline and Petrine privilege, etc.). One must also wonder if St. Thomas would agree with this application, given his brief and uncompromising treatment of adultery in the same text.

The absolute norm in itself does not admit exceptions, but that does not imply that its succinct formulation must be applied in every sense and without nuances in all situations. “Thou shalt not kill” does not admit exceptions. However, it raises this question: should taking life in self-defense be included within the term “killing” prohibited by the norm? Should taking food from others to feed a hungry child be included within the term “stealing” prohibited by the norm? No one would doubt that it is legitimate to ask whether these concrete cases are actually included within the narrow formulations of the negative precepts “Thou shalt not kill” or “Thou shalt not steal.”

While there are cases where killing becomes legitimate, the 5th Commandment, despite popular translations, is definitely not simply about “killing” (“matar”), but about a specific kind of killing. The Hebrew “ratsach” does not mean to execute lawfully, nor does it mean to kill in moderate self-defense. It means, roughly, “to slay,” which is done through malice or negligence. Even if not fully clear in the text of the Decalogue itself, it is clear in its interpretation within Scripture and the constant authoritative interpretive tradition surrounding it. As for the 7th Commandment, there is no possibility of theft when the principle of the universal destination of goods makes into momentarily common property some object which is another’s property according to human law. We understand that taking a ladder from a hardware store without paying is not stealing if it is urgently needed to save a child from a burning building – even if there is no possibility of returning the ladder or making reparation. So these analogies do not seem to work so well… As John Paul II taught in Veritatis Splendor, the negative precepts of Divine law, when properly understood, do not admit of exceptions (see par. 52 and 56).

For this reason, it is also licit to ask if the acts of a more uxorio cohabitation should always fall, in its integral meaning, within the negative precept of “fornication”. I say, “in its integral meaning,” because it is not possible to hold that those acts in each and every case are gravely immoral in a subjective sense. In the complexity of particular situations is where, according to St. Thomas, ‘uncertainty increases.’ Indeed, it is not easy to describe as an ‘adulteress’ a woman who has been beaten and treated with contempt by her Catholic husband, and who received shelter, economic and psychological help from another man who helped her raise the children of the previous union, and with whom she had new children and cohabitates for many years.

It is certainly odd that the Archbishop uses the word “fornication” (“fornicar”) rather than “adultery,” seeing as we are presumably not speaking of a couple with both partners being free of other presumed marital bonds (which, by the way, would not come under c. 915’s scope unless the fornicative cohabitation were sufficiently notorious or “manifest” and there was obstinate perseverance). The difficulty of the situation the Archbishop describes is granted – but one must wonder why such a woman did not approach a tribunal for a declaration of nullity so that she might marry the second man. In any case, the Archbishop is now walking back the proposition that there is an “exception” as for the 5th and 7th Commandments – now he is simply saying that there might not be sufficient culpability for grave guilt. So, which is it? Is there an exception to the rule, or is the rule simply not broken in a grave way?

The question is not whether that woman does not know that cohabitation with that man does not correspond with objective moral norms. It is more than that. Some claim to simplify the matter in this way, by saying that, according to Francis, “The subject may not be able to be in mortal sin because, for various reasons, he is not fully aware that his situation constitutes adultery.” (This is what Claudio Pierantoni stated in a recent conference, very critical of Amoris Laetitia in Rome on April 22, 2017.) And they question him that it makes no sense to speak about discernment if “the subject remains indefinitely unaware of his situation” (Ibid.). But Francis explicitly said that “more is involved here than mere ignorance of the rule” (AL 301). The issue is much more complex and includes at least two basic considerations. First, if a woman who knows the existence of the norm can really understand that not abandoning that man – of whom she cannot now demand a total and permanent continence – is truly a very grave fault against the will of God. Second, if she truly can, at this point, make the decision to abandon that man. This is where the limited formulation of the norm is incapable of stating everything.

Surely, it is difficult to imagine a baptized, sane adult not having internal access to the moral law against divorce and remarriage, as set down in all four Gospels, though perhaps a seriously deficient moral education could cause a Christian to be invincibly ignorant. A coherent explanation of such ignorance would have to be harmonious with the clear sense of, among other important texts, Romans 1(On the other hand, a person certainly could be invincibly ignorant of ecclesiastical law or matters of fact; for example, if an individual was unaware of his/her baptism and subsequently violated canonical form in attempting marriage, this would render the marriage invalid but not morally problematic in a subjective sense.) Instead of developing this point, he seeks to introduce a conflict of obligations – a situation which sometimes, it is true, can only be solved by recourse to one’s own practical wisdom. It remains to be shown, however, that there is not an objective hierarchy of obligations which can be appealed to; it seems that there is, as adultery comes under a negative Divine prescript, while care of children comes under a positive Divine prescript. This means that the former must never be done, while the latter should be done as far as possible without violating other more serious duties – like not committing adultery, which is itself contrary to the welfare of children in a variety of ways, lest we forget.

In any event, the specific and principal proposal of Francis, in line with the Synod, is not concerning the considerations on the formulation of the norm. Why then is this question part of his proposal? Because he calls for much attention to the language that is used to describe weak persons. For him, offensive expressions such as “adulterer” or “fornicator” should not necessarily be deduced from the general norms when referring to concrete persons.

The prudence of this is at least questionable in light of the uncompromising and “offensive” language of Our Lord. Nobody, of course, would suggest that “name calling” is an effective approach to saving souls, but delicate euphemisms are not always appropriate either.

But his emphasis is rather on the question of the possible diminution of responsibility and culpability. Forms of conditioning can attenuate or nullify responsibility and culpability against any norm, even against negative precepts and absolute moral norms. This makes it possible not always to lose the life of sanctifying grace in a “more uxorio”cohabitation.

That there is a possibility of mitigation of culpability for individual adulterous acts has not come under serious criticism as far as I know, although one should certainly be wary of overextending this possibility (which is surely not hard to do). What is different from individual instances of such behavior, however, is the intention to continue in it. When that intention occurs apart from some grave duress (or other mitigating factor), it seems that this would always constitute mortal sin (excepting those cases of invincible ignorance). It should also be noted that mere temptation does not constitute a mitigating factor, and the loss of some good (like financial support) is itself merely an external temptation until it actually damages the soul’s ability to function properly in decision-making. Further, we should recall that “subjective guilt” for such acts is not matter for c. 915, only for c. 916. Finally, we should at this point draw the distinction between a person choosing to do an act and tolerating an act being done on oneself. These distinctions must be made in order to have a coherent discussion of the issue at hand. The relevant magisterial treatment of the resistance needed to be offered to sexual assailants is also relevant.

WHEN ONE CANNOT

Francis considers that even knowing the norm, a person “may be in a concrete situation which does not allow him or her to act differently and decide otherwise without further sin. As the Synod Fathers put it, ‘factors may exist which limit the ability to make a decision’” (AL 301). He speaks of subjects who “are not in a position to understand, value or fully practice the objective requirements of the law” (AL 295). In another paragraph he reaffirms: “Under certain circumstances people find it very difficult to act differently.” (AL 302).

Here, the Archbishop begins to violate his earlier commitment to looking beyond the possibility that one could be ignorant of the “norm” itself. This is its own mistake, as it tends toward emptying the meaning of Christian conscience. But what is more important, and indeed, in my opinion, the most important point to consider in the article, is the apparent suggestion of an impossibility of following the 6th Commandment. Trent condemned such opinions in the strongest terms: “If anyone says that the commandments of God are, even for one that is justified and constituted in grace, impossible to keep; let him be anathema.” (Canon XVIII, Session 6) Of course, a person who is not justified by grace (and therefore might not be able to follow the Commandments) is in mortal sin, and that sin is due to his or her own fault (along with the sins which result), as he or she resists God’s free gift of sanctifying grace. (The Buenos Aires guidelines also could be read as contradicting this anathema when they speak about continence not being “feasible.”) Nobody argues that such choices are easy to make and live out, but to say that they are impossible or that failing to make them is without guilt due to mere temptation is to contradict the clear teaching of the Church. Let us recall the sobering words of the Lord: “If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters – yes, even their own life – such a person cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:26) If one must be ready to make these persons and one’s own life second to the Lord – goods which have frequently been used in the Amoris debate as foils for the choice to live “more uxorio” with a non-spouse – what of the sexual goods themselves which are being provided by an illegitimate lover? What of the distant possibility that that person might withdraw some financial and/or emotional support? Sometimes doing the right thing requires enormously difficult sacrifices, and it may also occasion sin in others – the witness of the martyrs demonstrates this.

He also recalls that John Paul II recognized that in certain cases “for serious reasons, such as for example the children’s upbringing, a man and a woman cannot satisfy the obligation to separate” (FC 84; AL 298). Let us note that St. John Paul II recognized that “they cannot“. Benedict XVI was even more forceful in saying that in some cases “objective circumstances are present which make the cohabitation irreversible, in fact.” (SC 29b).

A couple definitely may find themselves unable to separate physically or even according to civil law. Persisting in such a state does not of itself constitute sin. (While it is fitting for civil status to correspond to ecclesiastical and sacramental status, it is not absolutely necessary. In fact, one must change his or her civil status through divorce before changing his or her ecclesiastical status through annulment.) What should be evident, however, is that remaining together physically and civilly is distinct from living “more uxorio.”

This becomes particularly complex, for example, when the man is not a practicing Catholic. The woman is not in a position to oblige someone to live in perfect continence who does not share all her Catholic convictions. In that case, it is not easy for an honest and devout woman to make the decision to abandon the man she loves, who protected her from a violent husband and who freed her from falling into prostitution or suicide. The “serious reasons” mentioned by Pope John Paul II, or the “objective circumstances” indicated by Benedict XVI are amplified. But most important of all is the fact that, by abandoning this man, she would leave the small children of the new union without a father and without a family environment. There is no doubt that, in this case, the decision-making power with respect to sexual continence, at least for now, has serious forms of conditioning that diminish guilt and imputability. Therefore, they demand great care when making judgments only from a general norm. Francis thinks especially of “the situation of families in dire poverty, punished in so many ways, where the limits of life are lived in an excruciating way” (AL 49). In the face of these families, it is necessary to avoid “imposing straightaway a set of rules that only lead people to feel judged and abandoned” (ibid.).

The Archbishop’s points about the difficulty of such situations is granted. What requires much caution, however, is examining how mitigating factors work in the act of forming a habitual intention to continue “more uxorio.” If it is not a matter of a persistent acute fear or a mental illness, what must be shown is that some particular external temptation has become an internal force which has rendered the will unable to carry out its proper function – in other words, a true addiction. Sexual addiction is, I suggest, possible but extremely rare, given the fact that the vast majority of such couples may go a long time without intimacy for some other reason, such as a health condition or even simply the mundane distractions of daily life, quite unlike a real addiction. (We should also note that it is especially egregious for any person willfully to use as license to commit a sin those factors which would mitigate that sin’s culpability. This surely only adds guilt, even hardening a person’s heart in the vice.) 

BEYOND SITUATIONALISM

The Pope, faithful to the real and limited possibilities which the Synod opened – and even against the proposals of progressive moralists – has preferred to maintain the distinction between objective sin and subjective guilt. Therefore, although it can be held with all clarity and forcefulness that sexual relations for the divorced in a new union constitute an objective situation of habitual grave sin, this does not imply that there necessarily exists grave sin in a subjective sense, that is to say, grave guilt that takes away the life of the sanctifying grace:

There has long been a distinction between “formal sin” and “material sin,” which seems to be what the Pope means by “subjective guilt” and “objective sin.” If there are factors which sufficiently mitigate or remove the guilt for what would otherwise be mortal sin, there remains “grave matter” but there is not mortal sin. This is not what is at stake in c. 915, however, as that canon refers to sin in a distinctly legal sense, which is related to but different from the moral sense… For example, a gullible and innocent person who is otherwise free to receive Holy Communion in public might have to be denied if he or she were tricked into wearing a rainbow sash under the pretext of celebrating the Noahic covenant. Onlookers would take scandal at the knowledge of an objective situation (“rainbow sash-wearing”) which would be reasonably assumed to mean that this individual is a committed LGBT activist, which itself is reasonably assumed to mean obstinate and persistent grave sin. That the soul of this individual is in grace is not a consideration in this situation.

The Church possesses a solid body of reflection concerning mitigating factors and situations. Hence it is can no longer simply be said that all those in any “irregular” situation are living in a state of mortal sin and are deprived of sanctifying grace. (AL 301).

One is left wondering when and where this was ever said with any universality. There are no documents cited to support the thought that there has been a true development here. If the Archbishop’s text is taken in its plain meaning, the possibility of an irregular couple living in continence is included, rendering his claim without the kind of significance he seems to envision it having. The apparently implied meaning is that irregular couples living “more uxorio” may not be in mortal sin due to mitigating factors impinging on their culpability for such acts. This, I submit, is not a development at all, just a theoretical possibility which has always existed – and is unlikely to exist in reality with much frequency.

It is already widely accepted – even in the Catechism – that “imputability and responsibility for an action can be diminished or even nullified by ignorance, inadvertence, duress, fear, habit, inordinate attachments, and other psychological or social factors” (CCC 1735).

The paragraph cited is only directly and fully applied in the Catechism in its treatment of self-abuse (#2352), a sin which lends itself to conditioning and inadvertent commission in a way that relations with another human being do not.

For Francis, however, it is not the concrete circumstances that determine objective morality. That forms of conditioning can diminish culpability does not mean that what is objectively evil may become objectively good. Suffice it to read the following sentence: “Because of forms of conditioning and mitigating factors, it is possible that in an objective situation of sin – which may not be subjectively culpable, or fully such – a person can be living in God’s grace” (AL 305). That is to say, it remains an “objective situation of sin”, because there remains the Gospel’s clear proposal on marriage, and this concrete situation does not objectively reflect that. Francis, like the Synod, maintains the existence of objective truths and universal norms, and has never defended subjectivism or relativism. God’s plan is a marriage understood as an indissoluble union, and this point was not placed in doubt either in the Synod or in his pontificate.

There is some rhetoric in this paragraph, but we should notice that the Archbishop points out “that what is objectively evil [cannot] become objectively good.” Could this be a way to leave one with the impression that what is objectively evil could become “subjectively” good? Whatever the case, while there has perhaps not been subjectivism or relativism or “situationalism,” in some circles there has been some consequentialism insofar as the possible good outcome of some adulterous act (or some bad outcome of failing to commit some adulterous act) has been suggested as rendering that act less objectively grave in itself, but the Archbishop seems to have avoided this by implying that such a consequence rather inhibits freedom and therefore mitigates culpability. While the former is condemned, the latter is at least questionable. The mere existence of external or even internal temptation does not mitigate culpability, and it is a stretch to say that in these difficult cases a person faced with such consequences is necessarily overcome by them in a way that inhibits the natural operation of the intellect and will in a way that would eliminate grave guilt for an objectively grave sin.

THE POWER OF DISCERNMENT

On the other hand, Francis has never claimed that anyone can receive communion if he is not in the grace of God. But, as we have just seen, for someone to be deprived of sanctifying grace, it is not always enough that a serious objective fault exists. Therefore, there can be a path of discernment, open to the possibility of receiving the nourishment of the Eucharist.

So far, the Archbishop has neglected to cite the governing canons (c. 18, c. 213, c. 915, and c. 916). It is now a serious problem: c. 915 does not preclude from public access to Holy Communion those known with moral certainty by the minister to be in personal grave sin – c. 916 does precisely this, but it does so only in private administration. This distinction is absolutely essential to a coherent discussion of the entire issue.

This is only possible if a different way of thinking about the consequences of the norm is accepted. This does not admit exceptions with regard to the objective evaluation starting from an absolute moral precept, but he allows a discernment with regard to its disciplinary derivations. Although the norm is universal, however, “since the degree of responsibility is not equal in all cases, the consequences or effects of a norm need not always be the same” (AL 300). “This is also the case with regard to sacramental discipline, since discernment can recognize that in a particular situation no grave fault exists” (AL footnote 336).

This could be possible for private reception of Holy Communion, but it is not possible for public reception. But this would not constitute a new discipline at all, for it has always been the case that private reception is allowed given the minister has no reasonable certainty that the communicant is in mortal sin.

The question that arises is the following: Can this be discerned in pastoral dialogue? The Pope says yes, and that is what opens the way to a change in discipline. Francis’ great novelty is in allowing that a pastoral discernment in the realm of the “internal forum” can have practical consequences in the manner of applying the discipline. The general canonical norm is maintained (cf. AL 300), although it cannot be applied in some cases as a consequence of a path of discernment. In this discernment, the conscience of the concrete person plays a central role with regard to his real situation before God, his real possibilities, and his limits. That conscience, accompanied by a pastor and enlightened by the guidelines of the Church, is capable of an assessment that gives rise to a judgment, sufficient to discern regarding the possibility of access to communion.

Surely, determining personal culpability for past actions could be helped by a dialogue with a priest or other learned individual. Once again though, in such a setting, away from the distressing and mitigating factors which would encroach on a person’s freedom in an acute way sufficient for rendering that person less responsible than what mortal sin requires, it is not possible to choose to continue habitually in a “more uxorio” relationship with the non-spouse without mortal sin. Intending to continue choosing such acts, even if only because one foresees the impinging of one’s freedom, cannot be rendered less culpable merely on account of the difficulty of refraining from those acts or the goods which might be lost due to their omission – a person must really intend to try to avoid these acts. (Such a decision might be without grave guilt if the person has a mental illness, such as PTSD or split-personality disorder which would be carried into every situation, thus rendering the habitual presumption to continue “more uxorio” insufficiently free to constitute mortal sin.) What is even more inadmissible is the usurpation of a tribunal’s proper role or a contradiction of the judgment of a tribunal. This would undermine the judicial system of the Church, such that we would have a kind of canonical vigilantism.

Does this imply that a judgment can be given about one’s own state of grace? St. John Paul II stated that “the judgment of one’s state of grace obviously belongs only to the person involved, since it is a question of examining one’s conscience.” (“De gratiae statu, ut patet, iudicium solum ad singulos homines spectat, cum de conscientiae aestimatione agatur”: EdE 37b.) But it must be clarified that it is only a certain moral security, the only thing which someone can obtain before approaching to receive communion. It is never a certainty, however much one may be unaware of having violated a commandment. The Council of Trent defined that, looking at ourselves, we cannot be certain about our state of grace (cf. Session VI, chapter 9). We speak, then, of that minimal “moral security” that the person can obtain after a process of personal and pastoral discernment, which should not be based only on a single general norm.

To reiterate, this would only be relevant for private reception, not public reception.

Up to now, discernment about an attenuated culpability did not allow for removing consequences at the external or disciplinary level. The disciplinary consequences of the norm remained unaltered, because they were based only on an objective fault against an absolute norm. Francis proposes to go one step further. It is true that the general norm is not purely a discipline, but it is related to a theological truth, such as the union between Christ and the Church which is reflected in marriage. But sometimes “undue conclusions from particular theological considerations” (AL 2) are derived when they are translated into a rigid discipline that admits no discernment whatsoever. This is the point where Francis makes a change with respect to the previous praxis.

It must be asked: what specific change is being made? There is no change in law on this point, either in Amoris Laetitia, Mitis Iudex Dominus Iesus (where he actually did reform canon law on marriage), or any document of Pope Francis, nor is there a clear and authentic interpretation of canon law (such as would allow for a different application of c. 915, as St. John Paul II did with respect to allowing the divorced and civilly remarried publicly receiving Holy Communion if they were living in continence and were reasonably sure there could not be scandal taken), as has already been argued. I submit that until such is done, nothing can be presumed to have changed, either in legislation or its authentic interpretation.

THE LEGITIMACY OF A CHANGE IN DISCIPLINE

Is this change possible and acceptable? Can Francis accept what was taught by St. John Paul II and yet open a door that was closed? Yes, because an evolution in the Church’s understanding of her own doctrine and its disciplinary consequences is possible. Let us look at some historical examples.

Rather, because the pope is the supreme legislator of the Church, he can write and interpret ecclesiastical law authoritatively, so long as it does not contradict Divine law – or, presumably, other existing ecclesiastical law. To date, Pope Francis does not seem to have done either with respect to c. 915 or c. 916 as it relates to the divorced and remarried beyond stating what has always been taught, albeit in a way that is open to other interpretations – yet continuity and custom are also relevant for understanding law (c. 20, c. 21, c. 27, etc.), and so long as it is not clear that the law or its authoritative interpretation has changed, there should be no change in the application of that law except to bring practice more in line with the law itself.

In 1832, Pope Gregory XVI, in Mirari vos, had said that it is an “absurd and erroneous doctrine, or rather delirium, that freedom of conscience is to be claimed and defended for all men” (MV 15). In the Syllabus of Pius IX (1864) religious freedom is condemned as one of the principal “errors.” But in the following century, the Second Vatican Council substantially modified these very firm ideas (cf. DH 2-3). A similar evolution occurred on the issue of the possibility of salvation outside of the Catholic Church. We recall also the case of slavery: Pope Nicholas V allowed the king of Portugal to take slaves. Then, in 1455 the Bull Romanus Pontifex reaffirmed this. And this is not a secondary issue, since it has to do with the inalienable dignity of the human person. (With respect to this subject of the evolution in the understanding of the doctrine, the examples can be taken into account which are given in: Thomas Rausch, “Doctrine at the service of the pastoral mission of the Church,” La Civiltà Cattolica, v. 3981, May 14, 2016; pp. 223-236.) As of those changes in the understanding of doctrine, there were, as a consequence, various changes in discipline.

This is not the place to launch into an extensive investigation of slavery or soteriology, but the Archbishop’s confidence in these examples as analogies is unwarranted. Chattel slavery, the intrinsically evil institution within the very broad term “slavery”, has never been taught as moral by the Church (nor is it taught as moral in Scripture), so there has been no development of doctrine here. The development on “extra ecclesiam nulla salus” was with respect to the scope of the Church itself, not with respect to its necessity for salvation.

However, some hold that these comparisons are not convincing, and insist that any evolution should be carried out in the same line as what was said previously by the Church. It would be a kind of magisterial “fixism.” But, precisely in the examples mentioned above, it can be seen that the evolution did not take place “in the same line” as before, at least not on the question in itself. Between allowing slavery and not allowing it in any case, there is an immense evolution. There is only Continuity in the general doctrine about human dignity, but not in the precise point in question, where the Church really evolved in its understanding. In the same way, between affirming that only a Catholic can be saved and holding that there is a possibility of salvation outside the Church, there is no continuity with regard to the question in itself. It is obvious that the Church grows into a better reception of the proposal of the Gospel, in a more complete vision and in new ways of applying what has been taught. But some have an enormous difficulty in admitting that something similar can occur in questions related to sexuality.

The Archbishop insists on his examples as good ones, though he is apparently aware that some disagree. It is in no way clear how his exposition of these matters would not constitute an about face in doctrine, an act which would undermine the Church’s very authority to teach without error. For example, if the Church really taught that there is no salvation outside the Church, then taught that there is, we are left with two possibilities: either the Church does not possess the guarantee of truth in definitively teaching on matters of faith and morals, or there are multiple truths which may contradict each other. Neither of these conclusions is admissible.

RECENT CHANGES OF DISCIPLINE REGARDING NEW UNIONS

The fact is that even in the praxis related to the disciplinary treatment given to the divorced in a new union, there have already been major changes over the last century. Let us recall that, with the same arguments with which it is not accepted that they may not receive communion, a long time ago “the prohibition against funerals and any public funeral service” was also applied to them (Francisco Elizari, Pastoral de los divorciados [Pastoral Care of the Divorced], Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp. 31-32.). This changed without all the beliefs that supported that praxis falling away.

The Archbishop apparently does not realize that this penalty may still be applied, if it seems prudent to do so. See Dr. Ed Peter’s post on this matter for more: HERE

Based on reasons that remain standing, the previous Code of Canon Law (1917) sustained a discipline which the current Code (1983) does not maintain: “If, spurning the admonition of the Ordinary, they stay in the illicit relationship, they are to be excommunicated according to the gravity of the deed or struck with personal interdict” (Canon 2336). This indicates the possibility of changes in the disciplinary practice that do not necessarily make the great beliefs that supported the previous praxis fall away, but the possible practical consequences of the general norm are considered in another way.

This is also incorrect, if the Archbishop means to say that under the Pio-Benedictine Code those who divorced and remarried incurred the penalty of excommunication simply by the act itself. See the same article linked to in the previous paragraph for more details.

Amoris Laetitia gives rise to a new change, which does not imply a contradiction with the previous teaching, but a harmonious evolution and a creative continuity. The prestigious philosopher and specialist in the thought of St. John Paul II – Rocco Buttiglione – has explained it very well:

“John Paul II, however, does not want at all to nullify the role of the subjective conscience. The objective aspect of the act determines the goodness and the seriousness of the act. The subjective aspect of the action determines the level of responsibility of the agent … Pope Francis sets himself on the ground, not of the justification of the act, but of the subjective attenuating circumstances that diminish the agent’s responsibility. This is precisely the balance of Catholic ethics and distinguishes the realistic ethics of St. John Paul II from the objectivistic ethics of some of Pope Francis’s opponents. … Familiaris Consortio, moreover, when it formulates the rule, does not tell us that it does not tolerate exceptions for a proportionate reason. The rule that no one who is not in grace God ought to receive Eucharist by its very nature does not tolerate exceptions. Whoever receives the Body and the Blood of Christ unworthily eats and drinks his own condemnation. The rule according to which persons in God’s grace are excluded from communion as the canonical penalty for the counter-witness which they have given, however, may be subject to exceptions, and this is exactly what Amoris Laetitia tells us.” (Rocco Buttiglione, L’Approccio Antropologico di San Giovanni Paolo II e quello Pastorale di Papa Francesco [The Anthropological Approach of St. John Paul II and Pastoral Care of Pope Francis])

By now the same point has been made a number of times, namely, that a person committing adulterous acts may not be gravely culpable for those acts which are themselves grave matter. However, this does not respond to the difficulty with public reception (c. 915), nor to the difficulty of a habitual intention to continue such behavior, an intention which is separate from the acts themselves, which is far less easily mitigated in culpability.

It would be fitting to clarify Buttiglione’s expression “for the counter-witness they have given” by saying: “because their situation does not objectively correspond with the good that the general norm proposes.”

Indeed, a counter-witness really is given, as general norms do more than propose: they oblige.

RECOGNITION OF LIMITS AND GOOD THAT IS POSSIBLE

Once again, we may say that this does not imply watering down an objective value. What Francis suggests is the situation of a person who, in dialogue with the pastor, does not present the intimate acts of a more uxorio cohabitation as subjectively moral, that is to say, as the object of a personal choice that legitimates them. It only presents them as difficult to avoid in their concrete circumstances, even if they are sincerely willing to grow in this point. Circumstances can diminish culpability, but not transform an act, immoral by virtue of its object, into an act that one may justifies as a choice. In fact, the same Amoris Laetitia, rejects the attitude of someone who “flaunts an objective sin as if it were part of the Christian ideal” (AL 297). Therefore, it is clear that Francis does not admit that that act is justifiable as a “personal choice”.

The Archbishop does speak correctly here, but whether he keeps this line throughout the whole document is questionable.

Amoris Laetitia refers to people aware of the severity of their situation, but with “great difficulty of going back without feeling in conscience that one would fall into new sins” (AL 298). That culpability is diminished, because the capacity for a decision is strongly conditioned, does not mean presenting one’s situation as a personal plan consistent with the Gospel. That is why discernment is not closed, but “is dynamic; it must remain ever open to new stages of growth and to new decisions which can enable the ideal to be more fully realized” (AL 303). This, according to an authentic understanding of the “law of gradualness” (AL 295), invites us to respond better to God each time by trusting in the help of His grace.

Finally, there is an indication that a couple in an irregular union is called to grow toward the norm. This is good.

If the act remains objectively immoral and does not lose its objective gravity, then it is not possible that it can be “chosen” with conviction, as if it were part of the Christian ideal. Still less could it be held that, by this “choice of life”, it becomes subjectively moral. It is another very different thing is to propose, as Francis does, that in a context of attenuated culpability one seeks to respond to the will of God with a greater commitment, possible in the context of that situation. For example, with a greater generosity towards the children, or with the decision to assume as a couple a more intense commitment for the common good, or with a maturation in familial dialogue, or with the development of mutual gestures of more frequent and intense charity, etc. These attempts can be objects of a “personal choice”, and they are examples of that “possible good” that can be realized within the limits of the situation itself (cf. EG 44-45, AL 308). They are expressions of the “via caritatis“, to which “those who have difficulties in living God’s law to the full” (AL 306) can always turn. Staying on this path, conscience is also called to recognize “what for now is the most generous response which can be given to God … the commitment which God himself is asking amid the concrete complexity of one’s limits” (AL 303).

In this paragraph the Archbishop returns to an apparent contradiction of Trent on the possibility of following the Commandments (and/or the connected doctrine on sufficient grace). And surely, the Archbishop is not suggesting that the adulterous acts themselves could constitute “expressions of the ‘via caritatis’” or are “what for now is the most generous response which can be given to God … the commitment which God himself is asking amid the concrete complexity of one’s limits,” although this could easily be taken away from this passage of the article or from the quoted paragraph of Amoris Laetitia.

It is not that everything is the same, or that now “nothing matters”. The need to avoid concealing the seriousness of the situation explains why the Pope sets some firm limits on the proposed discernment. For example, it excludes the case of “a new union arising from a recent divorce” or “the case of someone who has consistently failed in his obligations to the family” (AL 298). At the same time, he asks that people be guided so that they may sincerely recognize their own truth, especially in relation to “how they acted towards their children” or with the abandoned spouse (cf. AL 300). There are limits that discernment should not exceed, particularly when the recognition of the other is at stake, or when there is still little clarity about the situation itself. The Gospel is not reduced, let alone its demands of charity, but it is incarnated in the concrete possibilities of human complexity.

Let it be noted that the conditions laid down for the “proposed discernment” (of one’s culpability for current adulterous acts, presumably) do not constitute anything other than vague suggestions of how to discuss these difficult situations.

CONSCIENCE

In the discussions about Amoris Laetitia, some hold that the Pope claims to grant to people’s conscience a power to create the truth and the norms at its whim. With this argument, these opponents of Francis try to force others to assume a determinate logic, from which there is no way out. The Gospel is thus subjected to a kind of theological and moral mathematics. Once that mental structure is adopted, there is no choice but to accept all the logic and consequences of that manner of using reason. It is a death-trap.

One must wonder what this “determinate logic” actually consists of. The Archbishop does not say, though surely he would grant that the rigorous application of immemorial laws as they have been authentically interpreted would be a good thing for the Church and Her faithful, no?

It is not the logic that Francis proposes for the shepherds of this time (cf. AL 296. 312). In addition, he rejects the pretension of “those who long for a monolithic body of doctrine guarded by all and leaving no room for nuance” (EG 40). He recognizes the value of reason to reflect on the Gospel, and appreciates the dialogue between faith and reason. But this does not imply canonizing “a” reason, a determinate manner of reasoning, a philosophy to which the Gospel and the whole Church must submit. The Gospel is not enclosed in a philosophy because “Christian morality is not a form of stoicism, or self-denial, or merely a practical philosophy or a catalogue of sins and faults” (EG 39).

Again, because the Archbishop does not detail the line of reason he critiques, one is left to speculate. However, his assertion that the Gospel and the whole Church need not submit to any philosophy is at least open to some criticism, given the condemnation of many kinds of philosophical worldviews which do not allow for the Gospel as the Church understands it. There are philosophies which allow for the Gospel, and there are philosophies which do not. The Archbishop fails to describe how the “determinate logic” does not allow for the Gospel in the way Modernism, Relativism, or Nihilism do not allow for the Gospel. What seems especially important to affirm in this discussion is that we can in fact know the truth of what is right and wrong, and we are in fact free in proportion with our capacity for reason. If the Gospel does not “submit” to this, then it must at least co-exist with it.

If a determinate manner of using reason is absolutized, only those who possess this mental structure will be able to interpret doctrine and revelation, and they would place themselves even above the pope. The supernatural vision of the Church and the Petrine ministry would thus be lost. Someone has said that this is an “intellectual Pelagianism”, because a determinate reason occupies the place of the Gospel and of the action of the Spirit in his Church. The Scriptures would serve only to illustrate the logic proper to “that” reason, administered by an oligarchic group of ethicists.

Surely, the Church is not called to stone the adulteress – but She is indeed called to tell her to sin no more. (John 8: 1-11)

Anyway, let us remember what Francis says about the importance of conscience; for example, in the following texts:

We also find it hard to make room for the consciences of the faithful, who very often respond as best they can to the Gospel amid their limitations, and are capable of carrying out their own discernment in complex situations. We have been called to form consciences, not to replace them (AL 37).

…Individual conscience needs to be better incorporated into the Church’s praxis in certain situations which do not objectively embody our understanding of marriage (AL 303).

This is all true, but announcing the truth to which a conscience must conform is certainly distinct from replacing that conscience.

However, Francis does not indicate that the conscience of each member of the faithful should be left completely free to its own judgement. What he asks for is a process of discernment accompanied by a pastor. It is a “personal and pastoral” discernment (AL 300), which also takes very seriously “the teaching of the Church and the guidelines of the Bishop” (ibid.) and supposes a “properly formed” conscience (AL 302). It is not a conscience that pretends to create the truth as it pleases, or to adapt it to its desires. On the part of the pastor, it “never implies dimming the light of the fuller ideal, or proposing less than what Jesus offers to the human being”, nor “an undue reticence in proposing that ideal” (AL 307). Some priests may be questioned who tend to fall into irresponsible or hasty discretion, causing confusion. The Pope does not ignore these risks that must be avoided (cf. AL 300). Each local Church will find the right balance through the experience, dialogue and guidance of the Bishop.

The “irresponsible or hasty discretion” which the Archbishop condemns, as the Church has always understood it, is a suggestion given to a person in an adulterous relationship living “more uxorio” to go to Holy Communion publicly. Suppose the divorced person shows up in the parish and finds his or her spouse according to ecclesiastical law going to Holy Communion publicly while civilly married to another person with whom there is reasonably presumed a “more uxorio” relationship. If this person approaches the pastor, what recourse does he have to Divine or ecclesiastical law? None. What terrible injustice, scandal, and pain has been caused in such a situation, with no spiritual advancement for anyone. The current law helps prevent such a tragedy (although people certainly can and do take their own initiative to receive illegally and hope for the best). Tribunals exist to discern whether a person can live “more uxorio” with a person other than the presumed spouse and then go to Holy Communion publicly – NOT individual priests or bishops or bishops’ conferences, especially through a judgment on the internal forum (see c. 130). The timeless wisdom of the Church on this matter should not be quickly set aside. “Do not move an ancient boundary stone…” (Proverbs 22:28, 23:10) To delegate these judgments in a way differently from how it is now (through the courts) would be a disaster. The best way to judge these cases is with a real system of courts who are not “interested” or “biased,” who are well educated, who have appropriate perspective of the whole situation, and who can effectively promulgate their decisions. A confessor cannot gather and weigh evidence in this manner, not all bishops are well-trained in canon law (and thus one might question the prudence of the “Briefer Process” outlined in Mitis Iudex Dominus Iesus), and pastors have the temptation to succor favor with their parishioners. Most dangerous of all would be the delegation of these decisions to the interested individuals themselves.

Francis’s proposal is very demanding. It would be easier or more convenient to apply norms in a rigid and universal way, to pretend that everything is “black and white” (AL 305), or to start with some general beliefs and draw fixed conclusions without taking into account the complexity of reality and the concrete life of persons. But this comfortable rigidity can be a betrayal of the heart of the Gospel: “At times we find it hard to make room for God’s unconditional love in our pastoral activity. We put so many conditions on mercy that we empty it of its concrete meaning and real significance. That is the worst way of watering down the Gospel.” (AL 311).

On the contrary, the traditional teaching and practice of the Church seem much more demanding both of doctors of souls and of those in irregular unions. This is why Our Lord’s words on divorce and remarriage startled the Apostles so much that they exclaimed, “In that case, it is better not to marry!” Our Lord did not disagree. (Matthew 19: 10-11) It is seriously doubtful that the places where this proposal is adopted as legitimate and is put into practice that chastity will actually be preached in any meaningful way. Rather, human nature will simply take over in the absence of a strict ecclesiastical law. We have to wake up and smell the concupiscence.

A SECONDARY QUESTION

Although the question of the possible access to the communion for some divorcees in a new union has caused much commotion, the Pope intended – unsuccessfully – that this move be made in a discreet manner. Therefore, after developing the presuppositions of this decision in the body of the document, the application to communion for the divorced in new union was made explicit in the footnotes.

Herein lies the proof that there has been no authentic interpretation of law, let alone a change in legislation. There can be no discreet authentic interpretation or legislation – these must be open and clear, like the reforms Pope Francis made for tribunal proceedings in Mitis Iudex.

This caution is explained by the fact that what Francis considers “central” are the chapters of Amoris Laetitia “devoted to love” (AL 6), where he proposes for us a beautiful task in order to stimulate “the growth, strengthening and deepening of conjugal and family love” (AL 89). He asks us to carry on “before anything else a pastoral care of the marriage bond, assisting couples not only to deepen their love but also to overcome problems and difficulties” (AL 211), a pastoral care that encourages communion, generous dedication, the bonds of tenderness and mutual belonging.

All well and good. Recall, however, that the Church understands “conjugal love” to exist only between validly married persons, not between non-spouses.

For, ultimately “marital love is not defended primarily by presenting indissolubility as a duty, or by repeating doctrine, but by helping it to grow ever stronger under the impulse of grace” (AL 134). It would be very good for us to work more intensely in this line, in the face of a world darkened by the comfortable and superficial individualism that weakens and destroys these bonds.

Who could disagree with these closing lines? And yet the article’s ubiquitous pessimism about both human nature and the help of the grace of the Sacrament of Holy Matrimony seems quite contradictory to the spirit of what the Archbishop ends with. If we want “to work more intensely in this line,” we must indeed present “indissolubility as a duty” and repeat doctrine to call people to account, as our culture and so many in the Church are falling into confusion on this critical part of human society.

————-

Some closing thoughts… In all of these theoretical back-and-forths, it can be easy to forget that behind it all there are indeed real people in truly difficult situations. We must indeed accompany them diligently and carefully, a theme this pontificate has routinely emphasized. But we must remember too that mercy is the removal of an affliction, and this may involve causing some pain. When serious sin becomes easy, comfortable, banal, and even feels like a duty, the sinner sits in such profound darkness that the light of Christ will necessarily hurt. This does not mean it ought to be hidden under a bushel basket, which is the idea one sometimes gets from the modern usage of the word “pastoral.”

We must carry the lost sheep gently, but where are we really carrying them: back to the fold, or to the jaws of the wolf? Let every person charged with the cure of souls recall those foreboding words which God said to Ezekiel: “If I say to the wicked, ‘You shall surely die,’ and you do not warn them or speak out to dissuade the wicked from their evil conduct in order to save their lives, then they shall die for their sin, but I will hold you responsible for their blood.” (Ezekiel 3:18) 

Ireland – Week 2

Eamonn Clark, STL

Well I have really arrived.

There’s something about being fed properly – getting the right balance of flavors and textures and calories. While a full Irish breakfast is a bit hard on the arteries, there’s no denying that it’s going to keep you going, and there’s sort of something there for everyone.

I think that’s what’s been missing in the Irish Church for 50 years or so. It’s been lower and lower calorie, and the variety has been diminishing in relation to the growth in different tastes. But the textures and flavors are largely still there, giving the outward appearance that it’s business as usual. “People will still be well-fed. It’s going to keep them going.”

Not true.

Without a full rundown of the implosion that’s been happening here since the 1980’s or so, suffice it to say the following themes have emerged.

  1. Several different kinds of systemic abuse and cover up.
  2. Rather poor catechesis for the laity, and a general kind of disinterest in academic pursuits on the part of the clergy (or even downright suspicion).
  3. An uncomfortable amount of collusion between the government and the Church that has begun to backfire.
  4. Generally poor liturgy.
  5. An overall pattern of “going through the motions” as to sacramental initiation and liturgical celebrations deeply interwoven with cultural norms (funerals, school masses, etc.).

This has resulted in a swath of empty pews and declining vocations. To top it all off, recent emigration and immigration patterns have been unhelpful for Church demographics. Young Irish are leaving, and many non-Christians or at least non-Catholics are entering the country (often under at least questionable circumstances).

It’s important to note that Ireland is a sparsely populated country with an extremely high cost of living. It has just over 5 million people (less than half the size of Paris metro area), which is about 3 million fewer than before the great emigration of the late 1840’s, during the Potato Famine. About two fifths of the population is in the Greater Dublin area (1/10th of the population is in the city proper). Dublin City has been in rather acute cultural decline in the past 5 to 10 years for a combination of reasons. The big tech companies (Facebook, Apple, etc.) come here for the tax benefits. It is the most expensive country in the EU to live in. Housing is particularly pricey right now. There is a strong movement which is gaining momentum in recent years to reunite with Northern Ireland, which has been officially separated from the mainland as a UK country since 1921 after centuries of protracted conflict between British and Irish, largely motivated by religious animosity flowing from the English Reformation – an important part of understanding what is going on here on the island.

A visitor like myself can easily be taken aback by what seems like a strong, booming echo of Ireland’s glorious past, mired in what is an increasingly dissonant noise of secularism. The institutional Church still has a very strong hold on many facets of Irish life… For example, almost all primary schools are run by the Church. And yet Catholicism here is on the fast-track to “all or nothing,” a reality which has been caused, ironically, less intensely by outward persecution by monsters like Cromwell than by distraction, bureaucratic and “soft” legal opposition, and most of all apathy. It makes for a new kind of rocky soil. Irish youth are inundated, just like American youth, with the siren songs of a deeply leftist media run by a cabal of progressive elites.

I was at a graveyard the other day… It is a good image for the country and the Church here, at least to some degree. There are all of these beautiful monuments, marks, indicators of something singularly existentially important… Some are more vibrant than others. But each tells a story.

And what lies beneath them will one day rise again, changed. And there IS hope here. Plenty of it. I will write more on that later.

Many more weeks to come, and much more detailed reflections to come as well… Be sure to subscribe!

Ireland – Week 1

Eamonn Clark, STL

So, for reasons I’m not quite yet ready to share on these pages, (though maybe my more perceptive readers can piece things together,) I’ve moved to Ireland for the summer. I’m staying down in the southern countryside for about 3 months. I arrived a week ago.

In this series, I’ll be breaking down my understanding of the situation of the Church in Ireland on these pages every Monday. This week I’ve just been settling in, so I’m passing the first serious post to next week. I’ll share details about events I attend, people I meet, and places I go, all with due discretion. I will not reveal where I am staying until after I’ve left.

Yes, there will be loads of pictures. And cool stories.

Ireland’s situation is very, very unique in the global Church. The overall thesis that I would offer is one I’ve been giving to people already – Ireland is doing better than it sounds, but it is doing worse than it looks. I look forward to unpacking that in the weeks and months to come.

St. Patrick, pray for us.

Image: Alberto Loyo/Getty Images

Chimeric Theophany and the Act of Faith

A paper I delivered yesterday at the Sacra Doctrina Project’s annual conference. Enjoy!

Eamonn Clark, STL

The Genesis narrative of the Fall presents us with an image in the Serpent which seems at once foreign and familiar: a talking animal. But this is no normal talking animal, the type we’ve come to expect to meet in everything from folktales to Hollywood movies – it is an animal mixed with an angel. One is led to ask of such a thing, “What is it?” This framing of the primeval encounter of our first parents with the Evil One reveals a fundamental psychological dynamic in the history of religions which I will now explore only briefly.

The oldest extant statue which we possess is the Lowenmensch, found in a cave in eastern Germany. It is dated to around 33,000 to 39,000 BC. It is a small statue of a figure which has a human body with a lion’s head. It is not entirely clear what the use of the figurine was, though given that it is made from mammoth-tusk, it evidently involved a considerable amount of time and skill to produce – an attempt at recreating the figurine took experts some 370 hours. Justifying that kind of effort in a subsistence community means that the figurine was likely some kind of religious totem or idol; this is the most reasonable conclusion.

Other lion-headed figures exist throughout the history of religions – in Mithraism, in the Egyptian pantheon (Sekhmet), in the Hindu pantheon… These traditions and myriad others have many similar characters as well, other chimeras, whether physical chimeras where there is a visible mixture of man and animal, or an invisible chimera where an animal shape is given a human voice. Egypt is most familiar to us. One might think of Ra, the sun god, usually depicted as a man with the head of a falcon, though sometimes as a man with a beetle’s face, sometimes with a ram’s head (especially when seen roaming around the underworld every night), sometimes as a full-bodied animal. While the Egyptian pantheon has plenty of characters which are not chimeras, at least in their “default” representation, Ra is particularly significant because he was treated as the creator of all life on Earth, as well as being responsible for sustaining life through the sun. Just as well, eventually, the cult around the pharaohs grew to the point where they were seen as sons of Ra, or embodiments of him.

We might also point to the Egyptian treatment of cats as particularly noteworthy. While many gods and goddesses might turn themselves into various animal shapes, only one, Bastet, could turn into a cat. So revered were cats on account of the belief in their mediation of the spiritual world, in particular the bringing of good luck, that they were dressed in jewels, they were formally mourned and mummified upon death, and accidentally slaying one was treated as a capital crime. We then think too of the sphinxes, cat or lion-bodied chimeras with a human head, sometimes with wings, which in both the Greek and Egyptian mythological traditions act as guardians, especially to temples. The Babylonians had their own sphinxes as well, the lamassu, bearded sphinxes, which you have no doubt seen.

Egyptian religion itself stands as a particularly significant foil for the truth revealed among the Jews who were captives there. God chose to reveal Himself to Moses in a very different kind of chimeric theophany – through a plant! Sacred trees are not unknown in world religions, for sure, but the “chance encounter” with the Burning Bush is altogether different from anything else one might find in the pagan world, from the druids’ sacred oaks to the Germanic Yggdrasil. Trees don’t speak, and on the rare occasions they do in mythology they don’t burn without being consumed.

In the Burning Bush, God is showing that He is unlike any of the other gods on offer in the ancient world.

We would expect that the Canaanite pantheon would be similar to the Egyptian pantheon. But it is not. There are very few if any chimeric representations of the Beyond in Canaanite religion. Recent scholarship even suggests that the famous Philistine god Dagon was not a “fish god,” despite this having caught hold in popular treatments of the story of Samson. The same can be said of Assyria and Babylon, though minor mythological figures are chimeras (such as mermaids and the “urmahllulu,” another lion-man, who guards, of all things, bathrooms). With the Achaemenid Empire, host of the Jews during the last part of the Babylonian Captivity, we encounter primarily Zoroastrianism, a monotheistic religion. Rome, too, despite its polytheism has few if any chimeras in its vast pantheon, except for, oddly enough, Pan, who has a goat-ish head. If Egypt is a polar opposite to Hebrew religion, the surrounding and invading cultures are nonetheless more dissonant on account of their similarity, like half-notes being played together. We find more and more the projection of the divine onto human figures – including onto men who really lived and walked the earth, a clear correlative to the cult around the pharaohs. We see this especially, of course, in the cult of the Roman emperors. But unlike Egypt, these religions are less diverse in their perverse ideas – the Egyptians are, in a word, all over the place. They do all of the wrong things.

If we turn our attention back to Eden, we see how this dynamic is set up. Adam is given the lower creatures to rule, and then the cleverest of them approaches. The serpent is in fact a chimera – an angel-animal chimera – and a plant is used as a means for deception and gaining power over Adam and Eve. Dead or dying leaves are then used to cover themselves, and then dead animal skins, procured by the hand of God. The angel who pretended to be an animal inclined man so violently towards a plant in pursuit of man’s own will that man subsequently stooped to protect himself with plants. God sees that this is inadequate and elevates the protection. The elevation will need to touch man’s attention as well. He will subsequently begin to worship plants and animals, even dead things like rocks. This was how violent the downward motion was in the Fall. Man now acts like a beast, and so he identifies the Beyond with beasts, and even with plants and dead things. Thus, he needs them somehow to explain the gap in between his own existence and the Other. They are, after all, on different levels of being from him; they are just on lower levels.

I note in passing that in Genesis, when angels appear, they appear as men, almost as if to inaugurate a movement away from the disorder in Eden. We’ve already noted the shock of the Burning Bush, and another shock comes with the pagan prophet Balaam, whose donkey speaks to him under prophetic influence. Balaam behaved like an animal, but he was really a prophet, as his unwilling utterance of prophetic blessing over the Israelite camp shows. The mediation, then, is fitting for its end – men who act like lower creatures can be instructed by them, if put under God’s influence. He is willing to reach that low to instruct and save us.

I therefore propose that the intuition found in the vast array of animal worship in the pagan world in general does prepare man for the reception of the Gospel, in the very act of pulling him away from it. It is the Gentile world that is most ready to hear the teaching of Christ, not the Jews, most of whom have grown into a kind of spiritual laziness and entitlement due to their familiarity with God and His Covenants and laws. The Gentile world has known idols, slowly becoming aware of the futility of their religious observance. This is, as it were, the long arm of the first stage of St. Thomas’ explanation for why the Incarnation did not take place immediately after the Fall. Man needed to come to know his need for law, then needed to see that he could only follow the law with the help of grace. The latter applies to the Jews, while the Gentiles were left to be even more open to the shock of the Gospel.

In the sacramental economy inaugurated by Christ, many religious desires and intuitions of the pagan world are sublimated – everything from the intuition of human sacrifice, to the desire of local and individual houses of worship where God truly dwells in a visible form. The Incarnation is the sublimation of the intuition about the utility of chimeras, as seen in the animal-human hybrids and similar things throughout the pagan world, and the sense about the divinization of man himself, as seen in the Roman and Canaanite world, among others. And, just as with the serpent in Eden, we have a mixture of beings separated by a level – an angel and an animal – so too in the Incarnation we have a “mixture” of beings separated by a level – true God and true man. But in the Incarnation, there is really one person, and the human nature is really united to the Person in the hypostasis, and so on – the point is, it is not illusory, as with the Devil’s puppeteering of the serpent. God really “mixed” with man in Christ and divinizes him, in a non-Eutychian sense.

What to make of all of this? A foil for understanding the union found in Christ as a springboard to the supernatural vision of God in the act of faith is found in the logic of the Jewish ritual purity laws. Purity is against “mixtures” of things – even something as mundane as fabric – so that it is clear what a thing is, and, more importantly, where it is from – principally, whether it is from the world of the living, or the world of the “non-living” or “Beyond.” Thus, things directly connected to birth or death are impure. When something is not clearly “this” or “that,” but some sort of mixture of the living and non-living, the things of this world, and the things of the Beyond. What happens in the Incarnation is an intentional obscuring of these lines to form a true bridge, rather than a symbolic one. It can be asked of Christ, “What is it?” or, “Manna?” He is, in fact, the true Manna come down from Heaven – He is the true “what is it,” the true chimera which our psychology needs and has longed for since the Fall in Eden to grasp what there is in the Beyond, for to see Him is to see the Father, for He and the Father are One. It subsequently is revealed in the Incarnation that we, man, are actually much more the world of the non-living than the living.

Christ is extremely intentional in his use of the uncomfortable space which the impure, the mixture or in-between, occupies in the human intellect. He goes there, he touches it, he speaks about it and to it. From the very first moment of the Public Ministry, He surrounds Himself – literally – with the in-between places, of life and death – the place where the Lord was baptized is The Middle: in between Israel and the Nations, the Sea of Galilee and the Dead Sea, in a jungle surrounded by desert, going down into water – which gives and takes life – and in what is by far the lowest place on planet Earth. Another particularly striking example of this is in His interaction with the woman with the hemorrhage. This is a direct inversion of Haggai’s dialogue with the priests (Haggai 2). Impurity travels through fallen men, like a disease. One who touches an impure thing can then transfer that impurity from himself to something else, such as food. Purity, however, does not transfer in this way, not even if one is holding sacred flesh in his garment. However, in Christ we see the opposite dynamic, the transfer of power from His hyper-sacred Flesh through His garment which purifies the woman in the act of healing her. Nothing could be clearer about the program of the Messiah… He, the God-Man, is the One Who forms the bridge between the worlds, and He is therefore fully part of them both, a fact made clearest in the Resurrection, the shock of all shocks to human psychology. He passes from one world to the other, and He comes back again, victorious. He is the gatekeeper – a bit like a sphinx, and He too, like Oedipus’s sphinx, tells riddles which we must solve in order to pass through the gate, which is in fact Himself, as He is not merely raised from the dead but is the Resurrection. As with the woman with the hemorrhage, we are now to touch Christ, albeit not directly, as He warns Mary Magdalene in the encounter by the tomb, but indirectly, by means of faith, through the interior riddle put to us by the fact of our existence in the universe, with the help of grace.

Most heresies which are Christological in nature operate based on a confusion of Christ as a true mixture of the kind which heals and elevates the pagan intuition and completes the recapitulation of the Serpent-qua-chimera in Eden. He is either “just this,” or “just that,” but not “both-and.” To know Christ in faith is in fact to embrace Him for the “true chimera” which He is. Today’s attempts to domesticate or politicize Christ are not so different – while older errors could be said to neglect Christ’s desire for friendship with man, today He is often seen as just a pal, just a “co-pilot,” just one voice among many; or, He is “pro-immigrant,” or “pro-tax,” or “pro-environment.” While it is not necessarily incorrect to derive public policy from the teaching of Christ, the temptation is not all that different from the multiplication of the loaves which occurs before the Bread of Life discourse, which is to fall into thinking of Christ in worldly terms – a political “this” or political “that,” when actually He is the Manna, the What-is-It, Whose Kingdom is not of this world.

The insight that Christ is a fulfillment of the pagan intuition about chimeric theophany might help us to explain some other phenomena today, in addition to the possibility of helping to explain some of the symbols in the Book of Revelation and perhaps elsewhere in Scripture, such as the Holy Spirit descending “like a dove,” which I will leave aside today. It’s true that in the West, simple or “real” idolatry is uncommon. However, we somehow approach idolatry in all sin which is a conversion towards a creature, rather than sin which is merely “away from” God. I suggest that we find echoes of the pagan religious world in the over-personification of domesticated animals. As Pope Francis has pointed out, a world that chooses pets over children is on its way to loneliness and misery. Even more poignantly, G. K. Chesterton observed that “where there is animal worship, there is human sacrifice,” and we see this on display in those who worry about the safety of rare turtle eggs and scold people for eating meat but are marching for abortion later the same day. God did not become a cat, and this would never be appropriate – this is what such people need to be helped to see in order to be prepared for the reception of the gift of faith… that God became man. Another relevant phenomenon is found in the world of social media, where we go to divinize ourselves and encounter others as disembodied idealized humans – just like the ancient pantheons. There is an entire world unto itself in each social media platform which often has little if anything to do with the real world. One can get lost in these worlds, and those who do need to be forced out of them to be prepared for the gift of faith. Social media addiction is violently anti-contemplative, as the most cursory experiential familiarity with “unplugging” will teach someone who has any semblance of a life of prayer. These people need to be helped to see that God became man. If pageant shows for dogs are Egypt, then Twitter is Rome – while the former is further away from truth, the latter is in some way more dissonant with what is contained in its well-ordered pursuit. At least the spiritually blind cat-lady is obsessed with something that is flesh and blood.

Are there “seeds of the Word” in the pagan religions on account of their intuitions about the Incarnation, whether in chimeric theophany, or divinized men? No. There is simply an echo of what we once were in Adam – the pattern of his perfect mind has left its traces in ours, built for the story which Christ Himself tells, enters into, and fulfills. We were written as characters, through Him, the Word. It only makes sense then that we would constantly be looking to get back to Him as we once were, longing to get at least our minds across the gap between us, even through disordered means. Christ fulfills this desire in the Incarnation and exceeds it, by offering to those who believe His teaching and obey His precepts to take not just our minds, but our entire selves, body and soul, across the gap to Himself in the glory of Heaven.

Free Samples…

Hello Readers,

I am offering some free samples of academic products in my new company, Pro Fide, LLC.

Check them out in the shop! Anything with the color picture of St. Thomas is a free sample that you can download! Currently there are five – summaries of the Prima Secundae Partis and the Secunda Secundae Partis, a chart on formal and material cooperation, a summary of the first seven Ecumenical Councils, and an explanation of the seven deadly sins. Check them out, and buy the poster if you like the content!

You never know when the opportunity might disappear…

-Eamonn

Questions and Answers on the “Coptic Martyrs”

Eamonn Clark, STL

It is in the news that Pope Francis is enrolling 21 men who were killed by ISIS some years ago into the Roman Martyrology.

Here are some questions and my own (quick but hopefully not sloppy) answers, and there are also some “arrows” for more reading.

What happened?

The basic story is that 21 Christian men were executed by ISIS on a beach in Libya in February of 2015. Some of them were calling on Christ as they were put to death. 20 of them were known to be Coptic Orthodox, one man, from Ghana, is less clearly identifiable as Coptic. It is not actually totally clear that the executions were strictly motivated by the religion of the men, nor is it so clear that each of the men went to their deaths voluntarily – these are two of the normal requirements for being recognized as a martyr. If anyone can help me with more details on this, I would be thankful.

Who are the Coptic Orthodox?

The story is very long. In short, the Coptic Orthodox Church is a schismatic group that split from Rome in the wake of the Ecumenical Council of Chalcedon (451) over the doctrine of Dyophysitism, which is the teaching that Christ is “in” or “has” two natures, a human nature and a Divine Nature, rather than being “of” these same two natures. This may seem unimportant, until you realize that we are talking about the fundamental character of Who and what exactly it is that we are worshipping – which is automatically a big deal. There were 13 Egyptian bishops who refused to accept the Chalcedonian formulation, protesting that the recently deceased bishop St. Cyril of Alexandria (Egyptian), had condemned those who held to this position in his 3rd anathema. (The issue here comes down to the precise meaning of the word “physis.”) In the end, the Egyptians were not persuaded by the other Fathers of the Council that Cyril was not a “Miaphysite” but was actually a Dyophysite using vague language. You will have to do the hard work of reading the history in detail to get more of the story, sorry.

Have there been attempts to reconcile with the Copts?

Yes, many. The issue of the Coptic schism was an agenda item of the Ecumenical Council of Florence (1431-1449). The Copts ultimately did not want to come back on board, despite their representatives at the Council wanting to do so. Pope Eugene IV wrote a “Bull of Union with the Copts” called “Cantate Domino,” which it turns out is very relevant for our consideration and which we will look at later. There is also a group of Coptic Catholics, who have reunited with Rome, and there were several joint declarations between the Holy See and the Coptic Orthodox some decades ago on Christology – and though they are significant steps toward unity, they did not use the magic words, “in two natures.”

What is the Roman Martyrology?

This is the Catholic Church’s official list of martyrs. It is not a list of all Catholic saints. However, one who is in the Martyrology is usually also revered liturgically as a Blessed or a Saint.

Have there been non-Catholics treated as saints before?

Yes. I know of a few, thanks to this article by Fr. Ed McNamara: St. Stephen of Perm (1340-1396), St. Anthony of Kiev (983-1073), St. Theodosius of Kiev (1029-1074), St. Sergius of Radonezh (1314-1392), and St. Gregory of Narek (950-1003). The latter has also been named as a Doctor of the Church. In these cases, as Fr. McNamara explains, given the complex historical circumstances and the time in which these men lived, union with Rome was not necessarily as clear-cut an issue as it is today. So maybe the better answer is, “No, but sort of.”

Are canonizations infallible?

This is a deeply disputed question. There is a whole book of essays recently published on this matter, which I have not read myself but can nevertheless recommend based on what I have read about it, here. The opinion which I take myself is, “No.” However, nobody will sin by venerating someone held up by Rome as a saint, including in the liturgy.

What about Eugene IV?

The Bull “Cantate Domino” does not mince words on the issue of non-Catholic martyrs. It says they don’t exist. Again, without getting into the settled debate over Feeneyism (yes, it is possible to be “in the Catholic Church” without necessarily manifesting this explicitly by outward signs), here is the relevant part of the text: “The most Holy Roman Church firmly believes, professes and preaches that none of those existing outside the Catholic Church, not only pagans, but also Jews and heretics and schismatics, can have a share in life eternal; but that they will go into the eternal fire which was prepared for the devil and his angels, unless before death they are joined with Her; and that so important is the unity of this ecclesiastical body that only those remaining within this unity can profit by the sacraments of the Church unto salvation, and they alone can receive an eternal recompense for their fasts, their almsgivings, their other works of Christian piety and the duties of a Christian soldier. No one, let his almsgiving be as great as it may, no one, even if he pour out his blood for the Name of Christ, can be saved, unless he remain within the bosom and the unity of the Catholic Church.” This echoes St. Augustine’s teaching on the same question, along with a host of other Fathers.

What about Feeneyism?

Feeneyism is indeed wrong, that’s settled. But the entire point of canonizations is to hold up individuals as extraordinary examples of heroic Christian virtue. It strains credulity to think that this would be appropriate of anyone who has at least dubious Christology, and openly rejects the primacy of the See of Peter (the Pope of Rome).

Is this the only strange thing going on at the moment relating to canonizations in Rome?

No. But we will cross that bridge if and when we get there.

Aren’t you just being mean and nasty?

Maybe, but I am concerned with the integrity and meaning of canonizations and ultimately of their purpose, which is the proposal for the imitation of the lives of those who are canonized. To drive the point home: nobody should be Coptic Orthodox. And sure, it is possible that God could have worked an extraordinary grace in the souls of these individuals and brought them to Himself with a high amount of merit (awesome!), but that does not mean that they are fit for public veneration as saints in the Catholic Church. If you think I’m being mean and nasty, go read the link above on the Fathers and this question. I’ll stick with those guys.

End of Q and A.

There’s more to the story, and I hope the readership will point out if I am getting any details wrong. But this at least gets the discussion moving in the right way. There is plenty of good ecumenism going on, but I fear that this is not an example of it. The lines need to be very clear. This will mostly just confuse people in the long-term, it seems.

My own question is rhetorical, and I hope it’s not too biting… How is it that people who like the 1962 Roman Missal are “too divisive,” but people who openly reject the entire idea of Petrine primacy can be put into the Roman Martyrology?

St. Josaphat, Thief of Souls, pray for us! St. Mark the Evangelist, pray for us!