“Sentire cum Ecclesiae”
“Listen up, Jesuits,” would be my own translation of that phrase in light of the speech by the Vatican’s envoy to the CG35 in Rome. Papal legate Cardinal Franc Rode, prefect of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life, spoke to the General Congregation today. Like Peter Nixon below I cannot pretend to objectivity regarding the Society of Jesus, whose members have been so integral to my own faith life (which may may a bigger indictment of the order than anything Rode said, come to think of it). Yet Rode’s remarks about the Jesuits’ “growing detachment from the hierarchy” and other failings (like the “relativism” of certain Jesuit periodicals, ahem) seemed a bit uncharitable, given the circumstances. Above all they seemed stale. The Vatican has been cracking the whip on the Jesuits for 30 years now. And Kolvenbach has bent over backwards to improve relations and maintain fidelity to both the Pope and the Jesuit charism. It isn’t easy. Surely there must be something more constructive to say?
But others of less (or more?) Ignatian sensibility may read it differently. See John Allen’s take here, the CNS story here, and Rocco’s translation here of Rode’s full address.
(And apologies for discussing an election other than the NH primary.)
One passage in the speech caught my attention. “Times have changed,” the Cardinal said, “and the Church must today confront new and urgent necessities, I will mention one, which in my judgment is urgent today and is at the same time complex and I propose it for your consideration. It is the need to present to the faithful and to the world the authentic truth revealed in Scripture and Tradition. The doctrinal diversity of those who at all levels, by vocation and mission are called to announce the Kingdom of truth and love, disorients the faithful and leads to a relativism without limits. There is one truth, even though it can always be more deeply known.”
No Jesuit I know would either advocate relativism or encourage it. The claim that tolerating diversity is to promote relativism is nonsense.
This quotation seems to suggest that if you get rid of these pesky, free-thinking Jesuits, everyone will be 100% orthodox as they see it. This suggests that he thinks people don’t come up with questions and doubts on their own. I think that’s just incorrect, at least in the US. The option isn’t, as I see it orthodoxy (if the ordered priests get themselves in line) v. heterodoxy as they see it. It’s heterodox v. a lot bigger group of ex-Catholics. And people will leave the Church, not because they think it’s too hard–they’ll leave it because they think it’s too cruel–that it does not, in fact offer Good News, and that it therefore cannot possibly represent the will of God.
For example, I know a number of Catholics married to non-Catholics who simply couldn’t stomach the CDF declaration on other religions. They see the declaration as the height of arrogance–and as something they are unwilling to inflict upon their children, and the spouse they love. I think some of the theologians the Vatican is most upset with actually give people a way of staying within the fold, when otherwise they would leave entirely.
But maybe this good Cardinal would say good riddance.
Well there is THINKING with the church and there is thinking with the CHURCH. The institution has been around for two millennnia. An awareness of the historical dimension is crucial to the effort. There is also the pure and faultless reiteration of the current line from Rome. There may be signifcant differences here. Looking back can be looking forward. Or it may not.
Actually I think the most significant problem is not “relativism” among the Jesuits either, although there does seem to be a certain recurring problem in the Christology of Jesuits who spend time teaching in India.
Instead, I think that the generally accepted method at Jesuit institutions of theological pedagogy is responsible for a great deal of relativism among well-educated Catholics. Specifically, it seems to me that somewhere along the line it became revered, received wisdom that in order to foster authentic adult Catholicism, college theology professors first had to deconstruct the childhood faith of their students.
I’m not making this up. I had a reason once to ask a long-time professor, a Jesuit, “Do you think that in order to guide students into adult faith it is important to deconstruct their childhood faith?” He said emphatically “Yes. In order to build it up again.”
So I don’t think I’m putting that much more crudely than is widely held. I could be wrong and if so I apologize for the mischaracterization. But I would like to know, what is the basis for this pedagogical philosophy, however it ought to be characterized? Where did it come from, and who was the first to suggest it? Why is it so prevalent in Jesuit institutions in particular? Did it really come straight out of Ignatian spirituality, which was actually supposed to be quite militaristic in its practice of obedience? Isn’t this what most people who have been educated by Jesuits think of as the Jesuit approach–an attitude of questioning?
If so, is it any wonder that the Jesuits are known as champions of relativism?
Another set of questions: do theology professors have very specific ideas and methods to use in the deconstruction process, or is each one left to elicit an attitude of questioning as s/he sees fit? Is a methodology treated in the literature? What literature: journals that theologians read or only the teachers of catechists? Are all students equally receptive to the process? Among those who resist it, is there a grading penalty? Should there be?
Kathy, one could say that deconstructing a childhood faith to build it up again is at the service of conversion as an ongoing process. Any Christian who stays at the level of a Q&A catechism as an adult s not deepening their own faith, nor are they able to share it with others. Of course, staying at the level of questions is no better. Yet adults must deal with questions, and come to answers hopefully deeper than those they got as children, but also an ability to live with the tensions of ambiguity and mystery. Peter Nixon made a nice point earlier about the Jesuit vocation as one on the margins, which means they must necessarily engage–like Jesus–those folks who are not going to tune into Cardinal Rode.
David,
Of course faith grows. But how? In the Gospel of Mark, it’s an organic process. A man plants a seed, goes to bed, wakes up again, goes to bed, wakes up again–and the plant grows.
If I were a farmer I would want the natural processes to work as freely as possible before imposing a rigorous pruning. And if someone did want to prune, like the Father in the Gospel of John, I would make sure that that person had very sharp tools indeed.
Do you think 20 year olds are unaware of ambiguity and mystery until their beliefs are scorned?
I haven’t seen the original text of Rodé’s sermon (what language was it in?), so I can only rely on the text as quoted above. But you can’t criticize his remark about diversity without including the adjective that accompanied it, namely “doctrinal.” Discussions of pluralism, for example, have often spoken of it in terms of “theological pluralism” and “unity of doctrine.” He could be defending the latter without condeming the former.
“The fundamental nucleus of Ignatian spirituality consists in uniting the love for God with love for the hierarchical Church.” Would someone who knows more about Ignatian spirituality than I do comment on this? That strikes me as rather bold.
Grant:
I, too, was troubled by the Cardinal’s ecclesiology. To speak of one Church consisting of the people of God and another of the hierarchy (if the translation is accurate) does not reflect the ecclesiology of VII. And you are correct that he has gotten the fundamental nucleus of Ignatian spirituality wrong. The Rules for Thinking with the Church in the Spiritual Exercises are not the essence of the Exercises or of Jesuit spirituality. I should think finding God in all things takes precedence. As my colleague John O’Malley, just this morning conveyed to me, these rules apply to “having right sentiments with the Church” and are not particularly Jesuit. They can apply to non-Jesuits as well. The Directories of the Exercises, the guide for who should make the Exercises and how they should be made, does not prescribe them for every exercitant. As with other rules they are to be given to those who need them. As O’Malley and others have pointed out the Rules for Discernment are far more central in the Exercises. Perhaps more importantly, “sentire cum ecclesiae” applies to accepting the articles of faith. They do not mean that Jesuits, or any other Catholic for that matter, are bound to obey every hierarchical whim.
Asking about the “essence” of the Spiritual Exercises or Ignatian Spirituality is a lot like asking about the essence of Christianity: it’s not, in most cases, very helpful. I don’t think, however, that it is wildly inaccurate to say that in many times and places in their history the Jesuits (including the days when Ignatius was Father General) have placed a strong emphasis on loyalty to the hierarchy of the Church. Of course in other times and places (e.g. the 17th century or the latter-half of the 20th century) this has not been particularly emphasized.
And I would like to second Fr. Komonchak’s distinction between “theolgoical pluralism” and “doctrinal pluralism.” The former is a sign of health in the Church; the latter is a sign of confusion. Unfortunately, many in the Church, on both the left and the right (including some Jesuits), cannot tell the difference.
Fritz and Joe,
I’m not sure the line between “theological pluralism” and “doctrinal pluralism” is as sharp or bright as you both seem to suggest it is. Surely, there are points in history where theological pluralism was tamped down precisely because it was seen to generate a dangerous tendency toward doctrinal pluralism. If I remember correctly (and I may not) the whole effort to prioritize Thomistic thought in the nineteenth century was done precisely because it was believed this theological moral framework offered the most fruitful way of conceptualizing doctrine. Some of the figures we would defend today as pushing a legitimate theological pluralism (e.g., in the modernist crisis) were condemned precisely because they were thought to be too dangerous to doctrine. If I remember the Doctrine Committee’s worries about Peter Phan, the core issue isn’t that he’s contravened doctrine. It’s that his theology could have a tendency to lead people to minimize the importance of Christian doctrine about Christology.
The line can be defended, of course, in a Lindbeckian way–but I doubt very much that that’s what either of you have in mind. What are your thoughts about where theology ends and doctrine begins?
Cathy
Is this also a matter of perception? In other words, might “doctrinal pluralism” to one Catholic be the “development of doctrine” to another? Also, where does doctrine develop, and how, if not in tension with the central authority? It must be a creative tension, to be sure.
As for theological pluralism, the Vatican hasn’t seemed to look too kindly there, either, so I wonder if this isn’t a distinction without a difference. The two do seem intimately connected, and problems–or what are perceived as problems–in doctrine often grow out of theological exploration/pluralism, no? Or vice-versa?
PS: Or more better, what Cathy says…
One of the primary threads of eight years of Jesuit education in the 60s that I still remember is that NOTHING will ever happen that is inconsistent with the faith. This was presented to provide the confidence to free one’s mind for unlimited inquiry. But it assumed the equally important requirement to always keep in mind how Christ (our true faith) was present in each situation. Eliminating either part of the equation can lead to disaster.
Kathy,
the gospel of Mark is riddled with disciples who don’t understand what they are seeing and hearing. That is probably enough justification for any professor to help college students who are questioning their faith. They need to discover the mysterious God who is the object of their faith, rather than rest in the uncomplicated and perhaps unquestioned things they have been taught.
Most of the Catholics I have known were not prepared when questions came into their lives. They thought faith meant they could not doubt. They could not find answers despite being told all the answers were there in what they were taught. Finding their infallible system fallible, they drifted further away.
Personally, I believe the answers are there. I am grateful to all, including many Jesuits, who teach people how to find those answers. For most people, that skill is more important than knowing a system of responses that are supposed to be the answer.
Cathy et al.,
I agree that the line between theological pluralism and doctrinal pluralism is not a bright one. That does not mean it is not an important one. One point where I think Lindbeck is right (one of many) is that doctrine is primarily regulative. In theology, as is society, one does not really want to foster a pluralism of rules. This does not mean that there cannot be a pluralism of interpretation and application of rules according to circumstance and need, but these interpretations and applications will only be able to be judged as good or bad if the rules that they are claiming to interpret or apply are more or less fixed.
As I said, a failure to distinguish legitimate theological (or philosophical) pluralism from doctrinal pluralism is as much a fault of the right as of the left. The Thomists of the 19th and early 20th century took a set of philosophical opinions — the 24 Thomist Theses — and tried to turn them into doctrine, with quite a stultifying effect on theology. On the other side, (since were talking about Jesuits here) theologians like Roger Haight seem to be unable to distinguish between trying to understand the dogmas of Nicea and Chalcedon in our current context and throwing them out the window entirely.
The fundamental nucleus of Ignatian spirituality consists in following Jesus Christ.
Grant, this is from St. Ignatius’ famous Letter on Obedience:
And though I wish you all perfection in every virtue and spiritual gift, it is true (as you have heard from me on other occasions), that it is in obedience, more than in any other virtue, that God our Lord gives me the desire to see you signalize yourselves. And that, not only because of the singular good there is in it, so much emphasized by word and example in Holy Scripture in both Old and New Testaments, but because, as Saint Gregory says: “obedience is the only virtue which plants all the other virtues in the mind, and preserves them once they are planted.” And insofar as this virtue flourishes, all the other virtues will flourish and bring forth the fruit which I desire in your souls, and which He claims who, by His obedience, redeemed the world after it had been destroyed by the lack of it, becoming obedient unto death, even death on a cross [Phil. 2:8].
We may allow ourselves to be surpassed by other religious orders in fasts, watchings, and other austerities, which each one following its institute holily observes. But in the purity and perfection of obedience together with the true resignation of our wills and the abnegation of our understanding, I am very desirous, my dear brothers, that they who serve God in this Society should be conspicuous, so that by this virtue its true sons may be recognized as men who regard not the person whom they obey, but in him Christ our Lord, for whose sake they obey.
Am I wrong, or is this the first rule for “sentire cum ecclesia”: “All judgment laid aside, we ought to have our mind ready and prompt to obey, in all, the true Spouse of Christ our Lord, which is our holy Mother the Church Hierarchical.” You have two things here that many people find difficulty putting together, all the intimacy that can be involved in one’s relationship to a mother, and the identiiication of this Mother with a Church that is hierarchical. I notice that it is the hierarchical Church that is said to be our Mother, which does not nedessarily mean that he thinks that the hierarchy is the Mother–but I don’t know enough about Ignatius’ ecclesiology to know whether he might have indeed meant the latter.
Don’t Jesuits make a vow with regard to the pope?
Yes, the line between doctrinal diversity and theological diversity can be blurry, and more than one theologian has been unjustly accused because the latter was confused with the former. But that doesn’t mean there is no distinction, and I haven’t read enough of the Cardinal’s sermon to know whether he was opposing theological diversity. If there’s no difference, of course, there really is no such thing as theological diversity either, because theology, in a Christian context at least, is reflection on the doctrines of the faith, and if there are no identifiable doctrines of the faith, theologians have nothing in common.
Thanks, Kathy; thanks, Joe. My understanding is that the SJs take a special vow of obedience to the pope in matters relating to mission.
Yes, at the end of their formation, Jesuits profess their final vows, which include a special “fourth vow” of obedience to the pope with regard to missions, as this is understood in the Jesuit Constitutions and Apostolic Letters. St. Ignatius Loyola’s insight was that the pope would have a better idea of where, specifically, in the church there existed the “greatest need,” which is a hallmark of Jesuit discernment. Therefore the pope could better discern where, exactly, Jesuits needed to be sent on missions. (This is somewhat different than the popular notion of the fourth vow.)
Also, just to clarify things, both our first and final vows are not made to any one individual. As any Jesuit will tell you, the vow formula begins, “Almighty and Eternal God…”
At one time you might fact the inquisition if you were bold enough to insist that the church must always reform itself. “Ecclesia Semper Reformanda.” Augustine would have you subject to death if you did not join the Catholic Church. Jews were often publicly condemned by popes. Everyone knows that the hierarchy has made numerous mistakes.
It is not really ‘doctrine’ as such that leads people astray. It is the bad example of so called Christians. Any eigth grader knows that orthopraxy is heads above in importance to orthodoxy.
Here is a useful website that explains a bit more about the Congregation. It has a section on Jesuit obedience to the Pope, which makes the same point Fr. Martin did above about its special relevance to missionary tasks. And it seems that the interpretation of this obligation in reference to this particular moment in time is on the meeting’s agenda.
http://www.creighton.edu/CollaborativeMinistry/GC35/
The Society is more than free as an organization to openly consider, and reject if they see fit, with their own leadershp and hierarchy, the sermon and the suggestions. But it’s probably not completely accurate to say that this is an instance of mere hierarchical imaginings, with no input from lay faithful about the matter and the needs of those in the pews, even worldwide. It seems like there is ample data to indicate how the faithful expects to collaborate on the Society’s wide ranging apostolates. Of course though this for example is an ‘open’ forum, it is not the easiest place in which to fairly gauge the authentic hopes and needs of the laity. thx
I’ve just finished reading the posts and I don’t claim to understand all the distinctions, but maybe this might help clear it up for me. I’ve just finished reading Aczel’s “The Jesuit and The Skull”. Teilhard seems to have been a thorn in the side of both the Jesuits and the Vatican throughout much of his career, yet I never found where he was disobedient. He wasn’t perfectly obedient when he was lecturing on his theories of Evolution and Oringinal sin, which disturbed both the Order and the Vatican. Did he border on both doctrinal pluralism with his theories of evolution into the Omega point and his idea of original sin based more on the nature of man than on a particular pair. Is this strictly thological pluralism. When you look at Teilhard’s life and teaching, how would you classify him. I would really appreciate any help to deepen my understanding of him and his thought.
I think Andrew makes an excellent point regarding Teilhard’s obedience. Think what you will of his ideas, but he remained obedient to Society and ecclesial authorities to the end (his end having been rather creepily wished by him, after once indicating a desire to die on Easter, and then having that wish fulfilled — unless I have my biography wrong).
The problem of evolution and original sin is a fine example of the blurriness of the distinction between doctrine and theology. Theology has no trouble wedding original sin to evolution, so long as no one points out that the meaning of the words original and sin have been utterly changed. With no original pair, there cannot be an event in human history. At best original comes to modify creation as such, but still requires a moment of fall. Sin requires a chosen act, but merely living in a sin-filled environment does not itself constitute a sin.
It is not a long theological journey from this issue to Christology. If there is no First Adam, what does it mean to be the Second Adam? If there is no original sin, what does it mean to be saved from original sin, or to have original sin washed away in baptism?
The distinction between doctrine and theology seems to presuppose doctrinal coherence. It is not obvious to me that such coherence has ever been present unless theology enters the scene and argues for something that was not present in doctrine to begin with. In other words, the best Christian theology is creative, not just constructive.
Within theological pluralism–which seems to me to be the healthy, natural state of the Church–there could, I believe, be situations in which bishops should ask theologians to quiet down about certain lines of inquiry, even if the inquiries themselves do not seem likely to result in doctrinal error.
A bishop’s instinct for truth, awkwardly, is often negative and inarticulate. I don’t mean that in a derogatory way. Let’s say a shepherd is guarding his flock and a wolf comes. The shepherd might say, “Hey you! Get away!” but he probably won’t have time because he’s getting his weapons out to defend the sheep.
That’s what he does when there is malice afoot. But what if the sheep are in danger of scattering just because they get ahead of themselves?
Some eras seem remarkably fast in the changes of perspective that happen in philosophy and science. Theology, with all its weight, is not agile. It takes time to catch up. While it’s catching up, bringing the whole truth to bear on a new framework of thought, a bishop might be able to recognize, though possibly without being able to articulate the problem, “A lot of talk about this issue now is bound to totally confuse the faithful.”
In the olden days, scholars could talk amongst themselves in Latin about new ideas when they were too hot to be handled generally. Nowadays anybody can pick up Theological Studies and get all kinds of interesting ideas–when they’ve just been introduced, before the academy has even had time to weigh them.
With no builit-in buffers on information, the current way of doing theology would seem to open many doors to distrust, with or without malice being operative on any side. I’m not sure what the solution could be.
Of course, if there’s no such thing as Christology, no Second Adam, what would be the point of having a “Society” named “of Jesus”? It certainly couldn’t have anything to do with the faith and goals of Ignatius. Founded on a mistaken belief and pursuing misguided evangelization and teaching for centuries, why should its election of a new superior general be of any interest to anyone?
If one issue epitimizes doctrinal mandate more than anything it is the matter of Humanae Vitae issued by Paul VI. Yet when the Canadien Primate Cardinal Carter mentioned to Paul VI about his earlier opposition to Humanae Vitae, saying that Catholics should not feel less Christian if they could not in conscience follow the encyclical, the pope responded that he respected his right as a pastor to say what he said and he should respect the pope’s right as pope to say what he said.
Maybe Catholics can adopt this attitude and realize that respect for each other’s opinions might be more important than all this domination inherent in a dogmatic approach.
Kathy: You are likely familiar with this quotation from the fourth century Gregory of Nysaa:
“If in this city you ask a shopkeeper for change, he will argue with you about whether the Son is begotten or unbegotten. If you inquire about the quality of bread, the baker will answer, “The Father is greater, the Son is less.” And if you ask the bath attendant to draw your bath, he will tell you that the Son was created ex nihilo.”
Joseph K: I am sorry if you found my post frustrating, but, just for the record, I never wrote there is no such thing as Christology. Instead, I simply meant to indicate some of, what I take to be some of the difficult issues connected to Christology and original sin.
Joe: I wasn’t frustrated by your post.
I’ve been on record in several posts as saying the SJs are, as a rule, outstanding in matters of justice and higher education for the Church.
They continue to be noted for scholarship, a matter not in great supply amnong Vatican beaurocrats.
Andy’s point on Teilhard is most important. Yes, he was obedient to the end, and, I’d, argue shabbily treated.
The same may happen again and again to members of the order, but… for many educated Catholics, the exervise of power and control tactics under the club of demanding obedience, is still another turnoff from a leadership that wants the childish Christianity referred to in a post above.
Joe, What is the problem with the evolution of many pairs in the natural order, and the nature of man having to be raised in “the fullness of time ” by Jesus so that this order can evolve to Teilhard Omega Point, and each man at his time can be accepted into eternal happiness, however, you describe that. Jesus came and taught man how to live so that this evolution can take place, and we work toward the “Peaceable Kingdom”. For his message he was crucified. Isn’t this similiar to an article that you wrote in Commonweas “A less Vengeful God.
The New Adam would represent Jesus raising the nature of man and the old Adam represents the unsaved sinful nature of man.
Andrew: I am afraid some other person should be credited with writing “A Less Vengeful God,” although I certainly do prefer less vengeful to more vengeful. My concern with the scenario you outline goes something like this: Most everything Jesus taught can be found in Jewish teachings, he was able to focus hearts and minds on these teachings like no one had done before. Yet, it remains still for us to follow them, or to fail to follow them. As I see it, sin was pervasive before Jesus, and remains so after Jesus. That does not mean it makes no difference to say that one follows him. There is always a difference between more sin and less sin. However, I see neither the evidence, nor the mechanism, for the kind of human evolution that you describe. We continue hope in the mercy of God, as we pursue God’s justice in the world, but, unfortunately, there remains too much injustice.
Teilhard is the reason why I got into theology. After him, I think of everything in cosmic terms. But I have also come to disagree with his idea of the Omega Point. Creation was, is, and will be good. I see no theological reason for it ever to end. Happiness requires creation, creation requires history, and eternity is not usually friendly to ideas of history. Everlastingness seems a better alternative, but probably not my own everlastingness (although the resurrection does give me hope).
Salvation seems to me a matter of God preserving whatever will be of value in me to creation. Nothing else should be saved. Following Jesus, I think, creates more of such value.
Joe, Thank you for your reply. I appreciate your insight. It was Joe Komonchak who wrote the article in Commonwea.
Speaking of “sentire cum ecclesia,” I think it noteworthy that the Aquinas lecture at the institute to be given by Peter Phan was cancelled after pressure by Bishop Burke of St. Louis.
The beat goes on – worth a thread?
Authors of articles have no say in the headlines editors give to their articles, but in any case, I do not believe anything I wrote has appeared under the title “A Less Vengeful God”.
I’m sorry Joe. I found the article that I referred to. It was “The Violence of the Cross” in the Jan, 05 issue. In the latter part of the article after discussing Bernard Lonergan “the law of the cross” You discussed his death was a result of sin and his fidelity to his mission. You gave a more modern illustration of the message and death of Martin Luther King. Sorry for the mis-title.