Labels
The other day I was interviewed by a journalist working on an article on “labels” in Catholic life, i.e. “liberal,” “conservative,” “orthodox,” “progressive,” and so on. I’ll freely confess that I am not a great interview. I speak in long, meandering sentences with large numbers of dependent clauses.
After several minutes of talking to each other, two things became clear: 1) neither one of us liked the current labels very much; and 2) no one has come up with anything better.
Do we need the labels? It’s tempting to say, “of course not, we’re all Catholics, that’s the important thing.” To a certain extent that’s true. Yet the comity we gain by such a move comes at a cost of analytic precision. There are divisions in the Church—as there have been since the beginning—and pretending they are not there does not seem a promising strategy for helping us overcome them.
One of the problems, though, is that we tend to define certain tendencies in the Church as a collection of positions on certain issues, as when this journalist asked me “Well don’t you think the average person on the street would define a ‘liberal Catholic’ as someone who believed in the ordination of women or was deeply committed to social justice?” She’s probably right that this is what the average person thinks (although whether that is what “liberal Catholics” think can be questioned). But there is a danger in reducing a tendency to a particular set of positions without probing what philosophical worldview holds those positions together.
If there is a single question that underlies what we might term the “liberal” tendency within the Church, it would be “Is the Gospel being heard?” Are we surrounding the message of Jesus with so many human traditions and prohibitions that it is no longer intelligible in the culture in which we live? It was this question, arguably, that animated the great liturgical movement of the 20th century, which asked whether the Sacred Liturgy had become so burdened by the accretions of centuries that the drama and beauty of the liturgy were no longer intelligible to most Catholics.
If there is a single question that underlies what we might term the “conservative” tendency within the Church, it would be “Is the Gospel being heard?” Is the faith that is being preached the faith of the Apostles? It was this question that animated the great Christian apologists of the 2nd century, like Ireneaus and Tertullian. They saw movements—like Valentinian Gnosticism—that claimed to follow Jesus, and yet the Jesus they followed was so estranged from his original Jewish matrix as to be almost unrecognizable.
Now as this second example suggests, these two tendencies have been with us since the beginning. It was these two questions that were at the core of the conflict between James and Paul (with Peter vacillating between them). Paul believed that the Jewish law should be dispensed with in cases where it had become a stumbling block to following Christ. James believed that he had no warrant from Christ to abandon the law.
So while I can imagine a day when we will cease using the terms “liberal” and “conservative” to describe these two tendencies, I think the tendencies themselves are a permanent—and necessary—part of ecclesial life. As both a community and as individuals, we need to be skilled in asking both questions. Those whose instincts lead them to intone “Fidelity! Fidelty! Fidelty!” need to ask Paul’s question about whether certain beliefs and practices are as inextricably linked to the Gospel as they believe. Those sympathetic to the “Pauline” question might do well to ask whether they are presenting the fullness of Christ or a pallid imitation that merely reflects culture rather than challenging it.
It may also be true that we will find ourselves in historical periods where we need to emphasize one question more than another. In the early and mid-20th centuries, it was very appropriate to be raising the first question. Neo-scholastic theology had become an “exhausted project,” and the Church’s relationship to modernity was clearly due for a reappraisal. At the same time, I would argue that as we enter the 21st century, it is not unreasonable to ask the second question more often than we have in the last 40 years.
But make no mistake, the winds of history and culture do not move uniformly in one direction. As skilled sailors on the Barque of Peter, we need to be able to adjust rigging and sail to keep on course. Whether a course correction is needed at this historical moment is a subject for debate. Whether there will be a need for future course corrections is not.
on July 31st, 2006 at 3:21 pm
Peter,
Your distinction is appealing in its directness and simplicity, and I mean that in the best sense, but there may be important issues it does not clarify. Let me try just one example. How are we to read the “Infancy Narratives” in Matthew and Luke? Are to take them as straight biographical narratives of events that took place as described? And are we then obliged to harmonize them so that they complement each other? Or ought we to look at them as imaginative constructions, written in independence of each other and motivated more by the theological concerns than by those of the historian? Let me be more specific. Are we to think that the Magnificat gives us Mary’s exact words as she remembered them many years later and repeated them to Luke? Or should we think that Luke, guided by the Holy Spirit, attributed them to Mary as appropriate, for the instruction of those who would read his narrative or hear it read to them? There are two possible approaches here–approaches that might vulgarly be called conservative and liberal, and both orthodox–yet I have no doubt that there will be those who would choose one of the two approaches, rejecting the other, and who also, however they might differ otherwise, would say with equal fervor that they want the Gospel to be heard and that they want the Gospel to be heard.
on July 31st, 2006 at 3:25 pm
My italics disappeared. Read: that they want the GOSPEL to be heard and that they want the Gospel to be HEARD.
on July 31st, 2006 at 5:50 pm
I, too, am not comfortable with the current labels. We need labels, I think, that distinguish those focused on the heavenly Jesus from those attuned to the earthly Jesus. I put myself in the latter category because it recognizes the Incarnation and Our Lord’s ministry in the here and now. I have a disdain for all the liturgical and ecclesial claptrap that has built up over the years. I think we “earthly” types tend to question both the style of and pronouncements by the Church’s reactionary authority figures. I see “earthly” types as venturing forth into uncharted waters and reactionary types as desperately trying to plug leaks in the dam. I see “earthly” types cheering on the Holy Chick as it continues to break open the Church’s shell; I see reactionary types running around the egg with their ladders and tape trying to keep the shell closed. I hear reactionaries asking “Why?” and the “earthly” types asking “Why not?”
But I have no single-word descriptors to offer at this time.
on July 31st, 2006 at 5:56 pm
Oops, forgot: I regard us “earthly” types as hope-filled. I see reactionaries as fear-filled. In PEANUTS, perhaps Lucy is an “earthly” type, and Linus is a reactionary? Initiator vs. clinger?
on July 31st, 2006 at 9:04 pm
This may be another way of asking how we can achieve common ground. Jesus lambasted the Scribes and the Pharisees, yet he warned us not to judge.
Many moons ago a friend of mine gave me a presentation about pyramid sales. Despite my desperate pleas he would not let on or reveal that he was marketing Amway.
There might be some merit to this as we seem to prejudge the character of others on whether they are conservative or liberal. I know some very nasty ‘liberal’ people.
But, perhaps to relate to Peter’s point, it is no doubt true that there are some basic values that we should not forget. Many of us reacted against the rebellion of the seventies because some were throwing out everything.
It might be a very good idea to begin with something related to Matthew 25:31-46, hopefully making some connection which will serve as a bridge to tackling the more sensitive differences.
on August 1st, 2006 at 12:04 am
Joseph:
You pose a good question. I’ll be the first to admit that my formulation is perhaps overly simplistic and can’t cover everything.
Let me speak to your specific point: Until comparatively recently, the Church defended the strict historicity of the infancy narratives and suggested that to question this historicity was to place oneself outside the communion of the Church. One can question, of course, whether this position was ever taken dogmatically in a formal way, but the pressure put on exegetes who tried to employ historical-critical methods was clear.
So the question could be posed in two ways, similar to my questions above: “Must I , to accept Christ and His Church, accept that both infancy narratives are inerrant in all their details?” or “Do we, by surrendering strict inerrancy, surrender something that is inextricably linked to a key dogma of the faith, i.e. the virginal conception?”
While there is controversy on this point, I would suggest that in embracing Dei Verbum, the bishops gathered at Vatican II were essentially saying that to demand adherence to the position that the Gospels were inerrant in all their historical details would be to place a stumbling block to faith that was unnecessary.
To use an analogy from Jewish thought, I would say that we do need “fences around the law,” but there is always a danger that we will confuse the fence with the law itself.
Or to use a phrase from one of my theology professors, “theology keeps us from worshipping idols.”
God bless,
Peter
on August 1st, 2006 at 4:40 am
“He who travels in the barque of Peter had better not look too closely into the engine room.” Msgr Ronald Knos as quoted in The Knox Brothers by Penelope Fitzgerald. A wonderful book. Wilfred Knox notes that “If we read a great deal of theology, we shall need a great deal of faith.”
on August 1st, 2006 at 9:48 am
In my younger das, liberal meant open and generoud, conservative, careful and prudent. Argumentation by labellling was the lowest form of debate and atributing a label to another was a form of defense mechanism in psychology.
When winning became everything, that changed and perdures all around us.
I thought Cathy Kaveny’s article on “The vagina Monolgues” in America offered a reasonable way to move forward.
A related question is what is the current status of the Common Ground project and how much hope does it offer?
Finally, within the Church, do we have consensus about the meaning of “dialogue?’ I think it’s pretty clear it doesn’t mean “I’m right, you’re wrong,” but how far, if at all, are we beyond that?
on August 1st, 2006 at 12:14 pm
Peter, your question “or “Do we, by surrendering strict inerrancy, surrender something that is inextricably linked to a key dogma of the faith, i.e. the virginal conception?”, already presumes facts that others might deny.
Vatican II helped us consider things that we have not considered since the fourth century. We still have not come to terms with the garantuan influence that Constantine had on Christian life.
Much of it negative so that many will now call that period “the decline of Chritianity” rather than the previous title “the triumph of Christianity.
The reason we need a great deal of fatih if we study theology is that a “church of dogma” has been foisted on us and we still have not understood its ramifications.
on August 1st, 2006 at 4:18 pm
Peter,
I suspect that any division into two or three parties (right center left; conservative centrist liberal) will turn out to be unsatisfactory, however convenient such labels may at times be. I propose thinking rather in terms of mindsets. A certain mindset regards the church as an institution wholly divine and hence without a history–so far as history is the story of change and development–an institution, one might almost say, untouched by human hands, unstained by human practices, and unaffected human languages in all their variousness. The fruit of this mindset is a denial of change in the past and a refusal of change in the present or for the future, on the grounds that any significant change would be inconsistent with the essentially divine nature of the church. Another mindset regards the church as a continuing pilgrimage through time that is authentically open to the most profound change and variation, able to consort without loss with all the varieties of human practice and thought. It anticipates progress and rejects permanent formulations. Its church seems all too human. The fruit of this mindset is an impatience with what has been and an eagerness to find out what may be. One might add a third mindset. This mindset regards the church as both divine and human, changing, yet also unchanging in its course. It is concerned to preserve what is worth preserving, the doctrines and practices that are essential to the church, but it recognizes that some weeds have grown up along with the wheat. It has a respect for the achievements of human reason and yet is full open to the faith of the Gospel and the mystery of God. I would emphasize that I am trying to construct types. Perhaps types A, B and C. Real people are too complex and tend to escape definition.
on August 1st, 2006 at 5:22 pm
I guess it’s human nature to seek to compartmentalize, pigeonhole, label, see things in black and white, etc., but of course too much of these activities makes us blind to the many areas of grey in our lives where events or people or ideas just don’t mesh with the mental storage space we’ve assigned or consigned something to.
I’m reminded of an article by Fr. Komonchak several years ago in Commonweal where he was reflecting on Yves Congars’ contributions to Vatican II. Drawing on an essay by a Spanish theologian or philosopher whose name I can’t remember, Congars had once commented (and I’m paraphrasing heavily here) that as Catholics we should strive to develop and refine and articulate convincing arguments about our religion, but that we should always leave “room in the margin” for clarifying or modifying our arguments in the light cast by an opponent’s argument. I’ve always enjoyed that imagery. Take a position and defend it, but always be open to, and humble enough to accept, a convincing point from the other side.
on August 2nd, 2006 at 6:25 am
At Vatican II the labels “liberal” (or “progressive”) and “conservative” were also fluid. Cardinal Ottaviani, often considered the posterboy of conservatives at the Council, vigorously urged the Council to condemn atomic weapons, often considered a liberal position. Cardinal Suenens, leader of the progressives, criticized a draft on the Blessed Virgin Mary for being too Christocentric (what can this mean?) and insufficient in its praise of Mary, this often considered a conservative issue.
As for interpreting the Scriptures, belief in the inerrancy of the Scriptures is compatible with non-literal readings of texts, such as the infancy narratives. Pope Pius XII made this clear, twenty years before Vatican II, in his encyclical “Humani generis” where he urged scholars to explore the literary forms of the biblical books. One can believe, for example, that the Book of Jonah is inerrant without being tempted to look for the kind of fish that swallowed him. A satirical short story can be inerrant.
on August 2nd, 2006 at 3:22 pm
Fr. Komonchak,
You are thinking of Divino Afflante Spiritu, in which Pius also reversed the 400 year old policy of making translations of the Scriptures in the vernacular from the Vulgate rather than from the original languages. I have come to think that Pius XII is vastly underrated.
on August 2nd, 2006 at 3:27 pm
Bill,
Congar was making a point of paramount importance. It is always more important to get to the truth than to win the argument. When winning is everything, truth goes out the window. One of the problems with using labels derived from the political sphere to describe theological positions is that encourages the idea that winning is all important, as it often seems to be in politics as the game is played. Nobody gets everything right and nobody gets everything wrong.
on August 2nd, 2006 at 4:53 pm
I’ve been “chewing” on two observations made by Peter Nixon and Bill Collier, to wit:
+ “Paul believed that the Jewish law should be dispensed with in cases where it had become a stumbling block to following Christ. James believed that he had no warrant from Christ to abandon the law.”
+”I guess it’s human nature to seek to compartmentalize, pigeonhole, label, see things in black and white, etc., but of course [one can become] blind to the many areas of grey in our lives where events or people or ideas just don’t mesh with the mental storage space we’ve assigned or consigned something to.”
We know, of course, that “liberals” can hold “conservative” views on some matters, and vice versa. I would venture a guess, however, that there would be some consistency of viewpoint among liberals and conservatives on most matters, i.e., when looking at the “big picture.”
That said, how might psychology explain Paul’s tendency to stress the goal and James’ tendency to stress the rule? (A side thought, albeit unrelated here: Since James spent time with Jesus during his earthly ministry, what might James’ focus tell us, if any, about Jesus?) Since we do have a tendency to label or compartmentalize (”birds of a feather flock together”) — shades of grey notwithstanding, might there be something at the human core that predisposes some people to venture forth and other folks to guard the fort? If so, how might the answer to this basic question explain or relate to some Catholics “pushing the envelope” in Church practice and belief and other Catholics defending Tradition and Authority? Granting that experience and environment can influence one’s outlook on, and approach to, life, what underlying psychological/other factors might account for the behavioral/stylistic differences, for example, between Bishop Gumbleton and Archbishop Burke?
I would appreciate any thoughts on how core human differences might explain differences in approach to religious belief and practice.
on August 2nd, 2006 at 7:15 pm
Joe Gannon:
Thanks for the correction. I must have “Humani generis” on the brain.
on August 2nd, 2006 at 7:30 pm
I wonder if the “stumbling block” was not the other way round for Paul. He had come to believe that after the death and resurrection of Jesus the Christ salvation came from faith and from “putting on Christ ” rather than from following the Mosaic law. He did not insist that Jews who accepted Christ should stop following the law, even though he thought it was not efficacious for them, perhaps because they would have found it difficult to give up the law of their fathers. But he did insist that the law could not be imposed on Gentile converts, not because they might be reluctant to accept it, but because they had no need ot it.
on August 2nd, 2006 at 7:51 pm
Could that “something at the human core” be, in fact, one’s perception of God? To borrow from GOOD GOATS, is God essentially a punisher or a lover? If we, in fact, punish ourselves by errant behaviors, can we logically conclude that God does not punish? On the other hand, if God does, indeed, punish, can we really love this kind of God? How can one love someone s/he fears? Does the more “traditionalist” view of God promote so-called “enabling” beliefs and behaviors by those perceiving themselves as his “subjects?” In other words, are such folks trying to keep a punishing God at bay. For example, looking back at the regrettable St. Stanislaus Kostka controversy in St. Louis, the parish’s board of trustees refused to kowtow to the archbishop’s demand to turn over control of parish assets to his ultimate control. The archbishop, in turn, uttered comments about his concern for their immortal souls. On the one hand, we saw a lay leadership that refused to believe that God would sanction them, and we saw an archbishop who, by his various statements, evidenced his firm belief in a punishing God. Might these beliefs and behaviors by the respective parties help explain not only their perceptions of God but also the general approaches to controversies/issues in the Church? Is anyone aware of any research in this area?
on August 2nd, 2006 at 8:39 pm
Joe,
I would guess that the parishioners in St. Louis thought that they had done no wrong and that God would not respond to the Archbishops attempt to call his wrath down upon them, if that is what he did. Burke seems to have thought that he was in the right also and that God would punish the parisioners for their disobedience. As a pastor, her would naturally express his regret. It is really very difficult to determine the state of mind of another person. Sometimes it is difficult to determine one’s own state of mind. It is nearly iumpossible when you have not spent some time with the people in question.
on August 3rd, 2006 at 6:50 pm
Mr. Gannon, good points you raise.
I remember as a kid hearing “God helps those who help themselves.” Then I met a second-cousin a number of years later who refused to accept the truth of this expression. After listening to her reasoning, I had to agree. If we are the eyes, ears, hands, and feet of God, then he is relying upon us to do his bidding in reaching out to and helping others in need. True, some people simply need fish, but others can be taught how to fish and thereby fend for themselves.
I’ve raised various examples in the hope that perhaps they might give us a clue to some kind of generic language might be adequate in explaining — in general — the differences between liberal and conservative Catholics/Christians. In his book STEALING JESUS: HOW FUNDAMENTALISM BETRAYS CHRISTIANITY that came out several years ago, author Bruce Bawer distinguished between “legalistic” and “nonlegalistic” Christians, if I recall.
Anyway, it’s an interesting topic.
on August 4th, 2006 at 2:36 pm
This topic obviously is of interest to me :)
Conservatives do tend to lean more toward power, authority people and structures, order, tradition (open to interpretation, I admit), and stern judging of others based on what I’ve experienced as well as seen/heard in the media. Might these leanings suggest an unconscious desire/yearning for security and a corresponding fear of instability/losing control? In matters of Church governance, practices, and beliefs, it seems that conservatives prefer the pre-Vatican II status quo and abhor the idea of challenging authority and firm order. In contrast, we see liberals challenging authority, any possible reverting to pre-Vatican II ways of doing things, and taking the stance of “Don’t tread on me!”
In sum, perhaps, do we see some folks whose deep-rooted insecurity predisposes them to fear change or any signs of instability versus other folks who are more comfortable with change when they perceive it is needed?
on August 4th, 2006 at 3:47 pm
Joe–
Continuing with your comments about labels, the subject matter of this thread, there is an article from the magazine America you may enjoy. Titled “Do We Need a New(er) Apologetics?” and written by Richard Gaillardetz of the University of Toledo, it appeared in the magazine in February of 2004. I think it may be available though the America website to subscribers only, but the article is also available at Prof. Gaillardetz’ home page at his university. Here’s the link:
homepages.utoledo.edu/rgailla/newerapologetics.doc
While the article does not specifically focus on the attaching of labels to people or religious ideas, it does come at the topic through the course of Gaillardetz’ discussion about the strengths and weaknesses of what he terms the “New Apologetics” in the Catholic Church, especially the ideological perspective of “new apologists” such as Scott Hahn, Peter Kreeft, and Patrick Madrid.
While very complimentary of certain aspects of the new apologists’ ideology, Gaillardetz also takes the new apologists to task for such things as an overly propositional view of revelation, a neo-triumphalism that can sabotage ecumenical efforts, and a Catholic romanticism that overlooks weaknesses in the Church and that leads to charges of disloyalty against any Catholic who would offer constructive criticism of the Church.
Some may disagree, but I find Gaillardetz to be fair and even-handed, and he also offers his thoughts on what contemporary Catholic apologetics should include (e.g., dialogue, historical accuracy, ecumenism, cultural engagement).
In addition, Gaillardetz, IMO, is a very good writer. He has the knack for taking difficult subject matter and recasting it in accessible prose. I also recommend his book about the Magisterium, “By What Authority?”, to all on the blog who have an interest in the issue of authority in the Church , and from my non-scientific perusal of recent posts, there are quite a few who have opinions on this issue.
on August 5th, 2006 at 10:59 am
Bill,
Thanks for the reference to Gaillardetz. Thanks also for mentioning the “new apologetics” of which I had not previously heard. The only name I recognized was Scott Hahn’s. My wife and I were in a group that read Acts with Hahn’s notes. We found his edition quite unsatisfactory. His idea of biblical scholarship has been moribund, or ought to have been, for fifty years. He managed to write a commentary on Acts without citing Joseph Fitzmyer’s work even once.
on August 5th, 2006 at 10:19 pm
For some reason, the link to Richard Gaillardetz’s homepage in Bill Collier’s last posting didn’t come through “live”. So here is another shot at it. The page from this website also makes available a number of articles by Gaillardetz that look as if they would be relevant to recent discussions here.
http://homepages.utoledo.edu/rgailla/newerapologetics.doc
Thanks, Bill, for the introduction to Gaillardetz. His comments on Scott Hahn and the “new apologists” were right on target. I liked his notion that Catholic apologists should not be museum curators or debaters, but pilgrims eager for company, and the rules of the game of conversation he cites from David Tracy sound a bit like Grant’s occasional lectures on the ground-rules for this blog:
“Conversation is a game with some hard rules: say only what you mean; say it as accurately as you can; listen to and respect what the other says, however different or other; be willing to correct or defend your opinions if challenged by the conversation partner; be willing to argue if necessary, to confront if demanded, to endure necessary conflict, to change your mind if the evidence suggests it.”
on August 6th, 2006 at 2:25 pm
Here is a direct link to the page on Gaillardetz’s website that in turn contains links to many of his articles.
http://homepages.utoledo.edu/rgailla/pubmain2.htm
on August 6th, 2006 at 7:56 pm
Bill, thanks for the references to Gaillardetz. His name looked familiar, and then I realized I have his book when you mentioned the title. In my undergrad and graduate days, I was not “into” theology, philosophy, or church history; thus, much of what is discussed on this site is relatively new to me (I say “relatively” because I find myself in the game of playing “catch up” in light of the “legacy” of the late pope as well as a lot of “stuff” emanating from the bowels of the Vatican of late). Thanks to rest of you for links.
If I may backtrack, I had a problem with Peter’s distinguishing between “Is the GOSPEL being heard?” and “Is the gospel being HEARD?” If I remember, it was Bawer who noted in his book the tendency of fundamentalists to cite Jesus in their arguments but then to quote Paul or an Old Testament writer — but not Jesus. I took this observation to suggest that fundamentalists cannot quote the Lord on a lot of matters because Jesus simply had nothing to say in support of conservative/reactionary/fundamentalist causes. Hence, the need to cite the Lord’s name but quickly shift to another (condemnatory) source in support of judgment on homosexuals and other sinners. With respect to the gospels, people can “pick and choose” in support of a position, and positions, of course, seldom lend themselves to nuance or shades of grey.