The flu has hit me, and sitting at a desk for more than 10 or so minutes has been nigh impossible. That has been all the more galling seeing some of the latest developments in Dubiagate. Even prelates for whom I had conserved some respect are managing the amazing feat of supporting the insupportable.
In fact, one wonders if irony is finally dead. Thus, from America magazine,
Archbishop Mark Coleridge thinks some of his fellow prelates are afraid of confronting reality.
Now one might have assumed he was going to state the obvious: that those prelates and curial apparatchiks chiding i quattro cardinali for publishing their five dubia regarding the papal exhortation Amoris Laetitia in the wake of their being ignored by Pope Francis are very much out of order, and refusing to face the reality that pragmatic perversion of general pastoral policy cannot supplant the teaching of Christ. Continue reading “Discerning the really real: dubia, popes and dissent”→
A few miles south of Hadrian’s Wall, and at the eastern end of Northumberland, I am making use of a cottage generously offered by benefactors for the purpose of breaking the back of a short dissertation. The best laid plans of mice and monks, of course… it is breaking me.
It is perhaps not totally effective, or even healthy, to attempt to overcome the incessant distractions of pervious months and seek a near complete solitude for 10 days in order to form one’s reading and thinking into a coherent pattern, transcribe it to computer and expect a satisfying result. There have been periods of waxing and of waning in the operations of the intellect, and yesterday proved to be quite frustrating and indeed disheartening. The downside of solitude is that there is no one, apart from God and his heavenly court, to unload onto. And the heavenly ones, of course, do not usually respond immediately or audibly. Continue reading “A random ramble with Colonel Blimp”→
A cold so far kept somewhat at bay decided last night to move its entire wagon train down my throat and into my chest. This is probably not a good moment to be writing. But prudence was never my forte.
One of the annoyances of the Synod of Bishops underway in Rome is that none of the speeches or interventions are being published. Rather, the Press Office is providing summaries. This is a real problem. The summaries raise as many questions as they answer. It would not be so worrying if some of its members had not conducted often vigorous media campaigns before the Synod began, preparing a type of Synod of the Media, reminiscent of the Council of the Media concurrent with Vatican II that Pope Benedict lamented before he left the papal office. This Media Council held the world’s attention and not the ecumenical Council itself. Many have likened the flurry of hopes and opinions expressed before the Synod to the situation before the release of Humanae Vitae in 1968: having set up an expectation of probable change, the reaffirmation of the Church’s teaching was experienced as a great disappointment by those whose hopes had been unreasonably raised.
Friends on Facebook posted a link to a blog of commentary by Catholic Voices. Yesterday’s post there by Austin Ivereigh was fascinating and disturbing. To quote,
[Archbishop] Fernández embodies the pastoral focus of this reformed synod, a focus which hasn’t been so evident in Rome since the Second Vatican Council.
The synod fathers have suggested, he said yesterday, that the light of Gospel truth be seen less as a spotlight or lighthouse — which remain fixed — as a torch which is carried and moves among the people, and especially among the poor, the suffering, and the sinners.
The first sentence is a gratuitous assertion of an ideological position that will stand little close inspection. But what it implies, and which is taken up in the second sentence, needs unpacking.
Yet again, “pastoral” is being distinguished from and opposed to “doctrinal”. Doctrine is “the light of Gospel truth” that is fixed, “like a spotlight or lighthouse”, whereas pastoral sensitivity is a “torch” – do you get it?: not an artificial light but a living flame – which “moves among the people, and especially among the poor, the suffering, and the sinners.” Who are these sinners that are given especial focus? Is not the Church on earth composed entirely of sinners?
It seems Archbishop Fernandez tried to have it both ways and cover over the implication of his words by later saying “When we say it’s a pastoral synod that doesn’t mean we can’t deepen doctrine, otherwise it would suggest that the pastoral is some kind of second-tier theology, that doesn’t involve thinking.”
Yes, well, that sounds good. Yet just before this Mr Ivereigh says that Archbishop Fernandez maintained that as the torch of Gospel truth moves among the people, especially the poor, suffering and sinners,
the pastors learn as well as teach. The greatest lessons about marriage and family are learned from people who live the Gospel in the love and mercy they show to each other yet who may never have read a single church document.
What lessons are these? Lessons in the truth of Christ’s teaching, or lessons in the messiness of human living, a messiness very often arising from people’s poor choices and sinfulness? The distinction is important.
The answer comes later when Mr Ivereigh turns his attention to Archbishop Durocher of Gatineau in Quebec. The bishop maintained that,
In the Church usually there is a deductive method, but in the synod we are trying a new inductive method. We’re learning to use the Harvard case study method in reflecting on peoples’ lives. This will take time for us to learn to do.
So, the Gospel torch is not so much to shine the truth on sinners that they might be enlightened and shown the path back to God. Rather, it is to reveal the reality of their lives as lived so that we can reflect on this reality in a doctrinal context and adapt the latter accordingly. Is this reading too much into it? Not really. Says Mr Ivereigh:
It’s an approach that says there’s no one-size-fits-all answer to the question, for example, of the divorced and remarried, and that what the Church needs is greater flexibility in applying solutions tailored to particular cases.
This sounds very much like situation ethics revived. Morality “tailored to particular cases” is in effect to say, Gospel truth edited to suit particular cases, presumably so as not to impose burdens, such as guilt, on people, and so make them feel even worse than they do already as they cope with the messiness of human life, their choices and their sins.
There is a lot more in this Catholic Voices blog post that deserves attention, but for now this dichotomy set up between pastoral and doctrinal needs to be considered carefully. To paraphrase a little, the pastoral approach does theology from below, starting with the people and their lived experience; the doctrinal approach does theology from above, from God and his revelation. The one is anthropocentric, the other theocentric.
While the lives of sinners, for example, may have much to teach us about earthly human reality, they have much less to teach us about divinely-revealed truth. God has revealed his will and his commandments with a precisely pastoral purpose, to show us how to live in a fallen world in which we make fallible, selfish even sinful choices; to live in a way that will allow us to share in His life both here and now, and in eternity. The way to God is determined by God and has been revealed by Him above all in Christ, for us and for our salvation.
Given the once-modish mantra “What would Jesus do?” is still repeated occasionally, we look with profit to Jesus’ teachings and actions. Jesus, who mixed with the sinners and the outcast, gave them some hard truths. One was to reaffirm the permanence and indissolubility of marriage in the Christian dispensation. Divorce in Mosaic law had been a provisional concession, taught Jesus, that he was now bringing to an end:
Because of your hardness of heart he wrote you this commandment. But from the beginning of creation, ‘God made them male and female.’ ‘Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.’ So they are no longer two but one flesh. What therefore God has joined together, let not man separate.”
And in the house the disciples asked him again about this matter. And he said to them, “Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her, and if she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery.” (Mark 10:5-12)
Is Jesus somehow not being pastoral? Or might it not rather be that he is teaching the full truth, and not resiling from it, precisely because this is God’s truth, and the way to reach Him and all that He has promised us? Who are mere humans to change God’s revelation? If these questions can be answered in another way I would really like to hear it.
Perhaps now we can deduce the best conception of what is pastoral: the presence of the Church among sinners, holding the fixed light of Gospel truth to reveal to them a way out of self and onto the path to God, and thus to true consolation and lasting joy.
When it comes to morality, perspective is all important. If morality starts with humanity, and becomes primarily a tool to ease human discomfort then we tread a dangerous path indeed, that very path Christ warned us against. If morality, instead, starts with God and is seen as the means by we live as God intends us to live, we are on much safer ground. And it is about safety. Our eternal life depends on it. It is this eternal perspective that seems too often absent in the current debates.
Mr Ivereigh quoted Cardinal Pell in his blog piece, and that quotation bears repeating:
Some may wish Jesus might have been a little softer on divorce, but he wasn’t. And I’m sticking with him.