How Useful Is This Argument Against Sedevacantism?

Family2Last time we dealt with the first part of a two-part query from a reader. Now for part two.

The question is: How useful can a particular quotation from Vatican I be in dealing with sedevacantists (i.e., those who say there is no valid pope at present)—particularly those who say that Pius XII was the last valid pope.

The quotation from Vatican I is:

[I]f anyone says that it is not by the institution of Christ the Lord himself (that is to say, by divine law) that blessed Peter should have perpetual successors in the primacy over the whole Church; or that the Roman pontiff is not the successor of blessed Peter in this primacy: let him be anathema.

Since the time of Vatican I the canonical penalty of anathema—which was a special kind of excommunication done with a particular ceremony—has been abolished, so nobody today is under the penalty of anathema even if they do violate this canon.

However, this canon defines a point that appears to be divinely revealed. The obstinate doubt or denial of a doctrine that is both divinely revealed and infallibly defined by the Church as such is a heresy, and thus under certain conditions a Catholic who falls afoul of this canon can indeed excommunicate himself (and automatically so). This just isn’t the kind of excommunication formerly known as anathema.

So much for the canonical aspects. What about its utility as an argument when dealing with sedevacantists?

To assess that, we first need to understand what is being defined in this text. And we have to do that rather carefully, because infallible definitions must be construed narrowly. Thus the Code of Canon Law provides:

Canon 749 §3. No doctrine is understood as defined infallibly unless this is manifestly evident.

One results of this is that we must ask what the council was trying to define. If it is manifestly evident that a particular proposition was intended then that proposition is defined infallibly. If it is not manifestly evident then it is not to be regarded as infallibly defined.

In the case of the Vatican I statement quoted above, the purpose of the council was to define that it was “by the institution of Christ the Lord himself (that is to say, by divine law) that blessed Peter should have perpetual successors in the primacy over the whole church.” In other words, the papacy is not a man-made thing. It is not by human or merely ecclesiastical law that there be an ongoing line of successors to St. Peter with jurisdiction over the whole church. (The council also identified the bishop of Rome as that successor, but this isn’t the point that concerns us here.)

It is manifestly evident that the council wished to say that Christ’s intention that St. Peter would have an ongoing line of successors with primacy over the whole Church, but this does not mean that there would be a successor at any particular moment.

There obviously isn’t a successor during the “interregnum” (between the reigns) period between the death of one pope and the election of another.  Sometimes these interregna have even lasted years, when the college of cardinals had trouble making up its mind (though that hasn’t happened in a very long time; that’s why the conclave was invented, so that the cardinals would be effectively locked up together until they came up with a successor).

So if the passage from Vatican I does not ensure that there will be a successor at any particular moment then a sedevacantist could simply argue that now is one of those moments. Something either went wrong with a recent papal election, in such a way that invalidated it, or—according to one theory that at least some thinkers in Catholic history have advocated—a pope could forfeit his office through heresy.

One of these two things is, in fact, what sedevacantists claim. So I don’t see the text from Vatican I as being a useful argument against sedevacantism in general, but there is another possibility. Might it work against a specific form of sedevacantism?

According to many current sedevacantists, Pius XII was the last valid pope. He died in 1958, which was 53 years ago.

Here is where the argument gets interesting: In order to be pope, under current canon law, one must be elected by the college of cardinals. In order to be a member of the college of cardinals, one must be appointed by the pope. In order for the pope to appoint you, he must be alive.

If the last valid pope died in 1958, that would seem to mean that no cardinals have been validly appointed since then.  How many cardinals are alive today who were appointed before 1958?

None.

The longest-serving cardinal at present is Eugenio Sales, who wasn’t appointed until 1969. If his elevation to the cardinalate was invalid, and so were all subsequent elevations due to a lack of valid popes, then it would appear that the college of cardinals now has no members. With no valid members, it would seem impossible for there to be another validly elected pope.

Ever.

That would be odd.

It would certainly seem to be contrary to the will of Christ who, in the words of Vatican I, willed “that blessed Peter should have perpetual successors in the primacy over the whole Church.” If Christ really wills that there be an ongoing series of successors then one would think he would keep the Church from getting into a position where it is impossible to elect any more successors.

So do we have a good argument here, from Vatican I, after all? An argument that deals a death-blow to a major current form of sedevacantism?

Let’s think about what responses a sedevacantist (of the requisite type) might make. What avenues of counter-argument might he have?

For a start, he would be able to say, “Hey, I agree with that Vatican I said. I think Christ did will that St. Peter have ongoing successors to the end of time (with gaps here and there). It’s not Christ’s will that we currently be without a pope. It’s a tragedy that we are!”

Responding to this, one might say, “Okay, but then how are we supposed to get a new pope?”

Here the sedevacantist would seem to have two options: (1) He could bite the bullet and say that there just is no way to get a new pope; we’re just stuck. Or (2) he could say that there is, in fact, a way to get a new pope, despite what you might otherwise thing.

If he picks option (1), do we have him?

I don’t think so. At least not based on what Vatican I says. The reason is this: God can will things in different senses.

He can, on the one hand, will that certain things happen or not happen in what’s sometimes called a “preceptive” way. That is, he establishes a precept that things happen (Honor thy father and mother) or that they not happen (Thou shalt not bear false witness). But it’s clear that when God wills something preceptively, that doesn’t mean it’s going to come to pass. People dishonor their fathers and mothers all the time. They bear false witness all the time.

On the other hand, God can will that certain things happen or not happen in what’s sometimes called an “efficacious” way. That is, he not only wills that they happen but he arranges circumstances so that they do in fact happen. This is the case, for example, when a pope or a council speaks infallibly. God wills that when certain conditions are fulfilled, the resulting teaching will be infallible, and he brings it about that the teaching is infallible. If a pope or council were to try to define something that is false, something (pleasant or unpleasant) would happen to stop this from happening.

So one question we have to face is: What kind of willing is being talked about in the text from Vatican I?

For a variety of reasons, a very strong case can be made that it’s the first. Let me give you just one reason: In its historical context, Vatican I was dealing with people who had argued that the papacy is a man-made institution, not one that exists by the will of Christ or by divine law. That was the point this particular text was dealing with.

It was not responding to people who claimed that the papacy is a divine institution but it might not endure to the end of the world—with gaps here and there (due, at least, to interregna), but with a guaranteed new successor before the end of the world and alive at the time Christ comes back.

The latter claim does not appear to be what the council was attempting to define. As a result, it is not manifestly evident that the council defined this teaching, and so—according to the 1983 Code of Canon Law—we should not regard this teaching as having been infallibly defined.

The sedevacantist thus can say, “You’re overreaching with the text from Vatican I. It’s just an affirmation that it’s the preceptive will of Christ that there be ongoing successors to Peter—not a guarantee that there will be one alive at the time of the Second Coming.”

I think this is a valid response. I don’t think we can get from the text of Vatican I an infallible definition of the proposition that there will be a living success of Peter at the very end. We might believe this on other grounds, but it’s not what Vatican I was attempting to define, and thus it’s not something Vatican I defined.

If one can produce other grounds that guarantee a living successor of Peter at the Second Coming then it is those grounds—not Vatican I—that one should point to.

The idea that there would not be a living successor of Peter at the end of time is a very uncomfortable thought—so uncomfortable, in fact, that many sedevacantists would not want to go in this direction and would instead pick option (2) and claim that there is a way to get a new pope, despite what one might think.

What might a sedevacantist of this sort claim?

I can think of several possibilities off the top of my head:

a) There was a secret conclave before the last valid cardinals died, and there is a continuing papacy that is little known or in secret.

b) God could make a new pope known by divine (and presumably private) revelation.

c) In the absence of a valid set of cardinals, and the impossibility of generating new ones, the ecclesiastical law providing for the election of a pontiff by the college of cardinals has lapsed, making it possible to elect a new pope through some other means (such as by a tiny remnant of the “true faithful,” whether they be conceived of as bishops, priests, laypeople, or some mix of those).

In fact, variations on these the proposals are what some sedevacantists claim. In fact, some have already proposed new anti-popes citing one or another of these as the basis. (In fact, I’ve had more than one current anti-pope ask to friend me on Facebook, though I have declined these invitations since I strongly suspected it was just a ploy to get in front of my FB friends to promote their anti-papacies.) This means that they and their followers aren’t technically sedevacantists but schismatics following a false pope.

A sedevacantist could even say, “I don’t know what the method is for getting a new pope, but there must be one.”

In fact, a sedevacantist could even site the very same text from Vatican I and—again taking it beyond what the council was attempting to define—argue that this text shows that there must be a way of getting a new pope, even though it isn’t presently clear what that is.

So I don’t think that the Vatican I text is a knock-down argument against sedevacantism, even of the sort that sees Pius XII as the last valid pope.

That’s not to say it’s useless. It does, after all, show that it’s at least the preceptive will of Christ that Peter have ongoing successors, and if that’s the case then it’s reasonable to suppose, hope, and think that in a matter this important he would guide the Church in such a way that we don’t get into a no-pope-ever-again situation. But this is only one datapoint in a larger argument that must be mounted.

I think there is quite a bit of fruitful material to be mined in the area we are exploring—the implications of the will of Christ for the ongoing nature of the papacy—and how this ill-fits with the claim that the papacy has been vacant for more than half a century. The cognitive dissonance created by that idea, plus the lameness of the alternative ways of getting a pope mentioned above (each of which is fraught with problems) makes a powerful case that the sedevacantists are simply wrong, and profoundly so.

But I think in order to make that case we need to appeal to a broader array of evidence and that the text from Vatican I doesn’t settle the matter for us, as great as that would be.

What do you think?

The Rebel Flesh & The Almost People

Rebel_flesh Thought I'd give a few quick thoughts on the recent two-part Doctor Who story consisting of The Rebel Flesh (episode 5) and The Almost People (episode 6).

I was not originally looking forward to this two-parter. It didn't appear connected with the main season arc, it wasn't written by Steven Moffatt, and it seemed to involve just another monster of the week (or, well, group of monsters of the week). I was expecting it to be not-that-great, possibly on the order of Curse of the Black Spot, which I thought had good parts but was overall kinda lame.

It was with pleasure, then, that as soon as we got very far into The Rebel Flesh that the show turned out to be much more interesting than I first thought.

Basically–and this is not a significant spoiler but merely an explanation of the title monster–the story concerns a 22nd century technology that allows for the standard sci-fi staple of rapidly-produced, fully-functional, fully-memoried adult clones.

Normally I don't like that trope (doesn't fit real-world science), but they get there in an interesting way: The humans in the story don't realize at first that creating such clones is what they're doing. They think they are using a generic biological substance (called "flesh") to receive a temporary impression of a person's physical form and consciousness so that it can act as a temporary, remote-controlled disposable worker body to take on dangerous jobs so the human controller won't have to.

What they don't realize is that the way they technology works, they are actually creating new living beings with the bodily forms and memories of their operators. The Doctor even warns them that these beings may (or do) have souls, qualifying them as the subjects of rights just as much as normal humans.

At this point the episode becomes very interesting from a philosophical and theological perspective. The show's creators are now playing with themes that have important real-world applications.

It doesn't matter how you come up with a new human–they can be produced by marital intercourse the way God designed the process to work, or by fornication, adultery, or rape, or by in vitro fertilization, cloning, or materialization in a nanotech chamber–however you get them, they are real humans who have real human rights that must be respectd.

Even if they aren't quite human, if you make something that's alive (and thus has a soul, or animating principle of some sort) that displays human consciousness (and thus rational thought), you have a being with a rational soul that must be treated as equivalent to a human being in terms of rights and dignity. How it got here is irrelevant. Now that it's here, its rights must be honored.

So this episode is doing what sci-fi does well when it's working at its best–using an imaginative context to re-frame actual, important elements of human experience. Ones that our own technology has (since 1978, when Louise Brown, the first test-tube baby was born) begun to confront us with.

Thereafter follows the expected story of how the humans and their "flesh" dopplegangers ("gangers," as the show calls them) will relate. Naturally, it puts them at odds, but it does so without making either side clear-cut villains. It needed to do that–to show good on both sides–or it would have become unbearably cliche and far less interesting.

There are a lot of nice Doctor Who-esque moments along the way (particularly some nice references to the Doctor's prior incarnations), and while the story is not genius from star to finish (there are paint-by-numbers parts, particular in the second episode, The Almost People), it was much better than I expected.

The ultimate resolution of the human/gangers conflict was decent, though it was tainted by the typical bad sci-fi metaphysics regarding identity (one ganger character ends up substituting for his human counterpart in a way that is not plausible), but that's par for the course.

More interesting was the way the episode linked with the overall season arc. It was much more tightly integrated than first appeared.

Moffatt seems to have been doing at least slight script revisions to other authors scripts so that they will include at least passing references to the season arc (e.g., appearances of the eye-patch lady, the Doctor looking at Amy's positive/negative pregnancy through a medical scanner, references to the Doctor's apparent death in episode 1 of the season), but these have been very brief elements clearly added in script revision. 

The Rebel Flesh/The Almost People turns out to be much more tied to the main arc than that. My guess is that Moffatt proposed the idea and assigned someone else to write it. Either that or it was proposed at an early stage of season development and Moffatt realized how nicely it would fit into his overall plan.

Whatever the case, they end up pulling the triggers on several major season elements, which is good, because it was getting a little tiresome watching the eye-patch lady peek in on Amy every episode or two and watching the Doctor looking suspiciously at Amy with the medical scanner every episode. I was afraid they wouldn't pay these elements off until the end of the series, but they did in part two of the episode, and now I don't mind them. They have a decent relative proportion to the overall shape of the season arc.

I'm very keen to see what they do in the mid-season finale which airs this weekend (in America; it aired last weekend in England).

The ominous title (which is even more ominous based on what we've heard River Song say before) is A Good Man Goes To War.

Here's the bonus, online prequel to that episode:

What do you think?

Are YOU “Anathema”? How about Your Protestant Friend?

Laurens_excomunication_1875_orsayA reader writes:

Recently I came a cross a web site that claimed that an anathema applies to anyone who affirms an doctrine that is contrary to the kind of anathema issued by Vatican I (that is, the kind that says, “If anyone says X, let him be anathema”).

The same site said that one of the anathemas of Vatican I made a powerful argument against sedevacantists who say that Pius XII was the last valid pope because Vatican I said that St. Peter will have successors to the end of time.

What do you make of these claims?

The claim that anathemas apply to those who contradict the canons of an ecumenical council, whether Vatican I or one of the other councils, is a common and understandable misunderstanding. We haven’t done a very good job about educating people on what the term “anathema” means in this context, and an awful lot of people are under an innocent misimpression.

To put the matter concisely: The term “anathema,” as used in conciliar and canon law documents, refers to a type of excommunication. In particular (as in the 1917 Code of Canon Law), it referred to a type of excommunication that the bishop performed using a special ceremony. This ceremony involved (among other things) the ringing of a bell, the closing of a book, and the snuffing of a candle. Hence the phrase “bell, book, and candle” (that’s where it comes from; it has nothing to do with witchcraft). These collectively symbolized that the ecclesiastical court had made its ruling against the offender and would not reconsider until he repents. There was then another special ritual of reconciliation for the lifting of the anathema.

(BTW, the image is a painting of the excommunication of Robert the Pious of France. That’s not a giant, smoldering cigarette pointing accusingly at him on the floor but the snuffed candle that the bishop’s entourage—seen leaving by the door—has just yanked off its accompanying candle holder.)

Like other excommunications, anathemas didn’t do anything to a person’s soul. It didn’t make him “damned by God” or anything like that. The only man who can make a man damned by God is the man himself. The Church has no such power. An anathema was a formal way of signaling him that he had done something gravely wrong, that he had endangered his own soul, and that he needed to repent. Anathemas, like other excommunications, were thus medicinal penalties, designed to promote healing and reconciliation.

Also like (many) excommunications, anathemas were not automatic. Just because someone, somewhere, uttered a heresy, this did not cause the relevant bishop to drop whatever he was doing and automatically perform the ceremony like a puppet on strings. Instead, if someone committed an ecclesiastical crime that was potentially subject to an anathema the matter had to be reported, investigated, judged, and only after that would the ceremony happen—if it did.

Also also like other excommunications, they applied to people who were (or had been) in communion with the Catholic Church. There is no point excommunicating somebody from the Catholic Church who had never been part of the Catholic Church, and so people who had never been Catholics were not anathematized, no matter what they said or did. (This comes as quite a surprise to many in the Protestant community, where it is often—unfortunately—claimed that the Catholic Church anathematizes them for their beliefs. Not so. It may disagree with some of their beliefs; it may hope and pray that they adopt the fullness of the faith as found in the Catholic Church; but it does not anathematize them.)

Over time the penalty of anathema became administered only rarely, and eventually it was judged that the extra ceremony was no longer needed. As a result, the 1983 Code of Canon Law abolished the penalty of anathema, and so it no longer exists under Church law.

This means that nobody today is anathema in the sense that the term is used by councils and canon law documents. Excommunication still exists as a penalty, and some excommunications are even automatic, but the special, ceremonial form of excommunication known as anathema does not.

This does not mean that the canons of the ecumenical councils have lost doctrinal force. They haven’t. Whatever doctrinal force they had prior to the 1983 Code, they still have, and so if a particular canon defined something as a heresy then it still is.

Furthermore, heresy still carries a penalty of excommunication, but a number of conditions have to be fulfilled for the penalty to apply (especially if it is to apply automatically—but that’s a subject for another post).

MORE ON ANATHEMAS HERE.

AND HERE.

As to the Vatican I vs. sedevacantism (or a certain type of sedevacantism) argument, I’ll interact with that in my next post.

In the meantime . . .

What do you think?

Do You Like the Church Fathers?

Wanted to let folks know that The Fathers Know Best now has a Facebook page. You can help by taking a moment to visit the page and Like it. This will help our marketing people be able to promote the book to retailers by showing online interest in it. (Or so I'm given to understand by our marketing folks!) If you have a moment, and you're a FB user, please consider Liking the page. Thank you kindly for your support!

HERE'S THE LINK.

Condom Zombies Hijack Pope Benedict!

ZombieNo doubt you remember the firestorm that erupted when Pope Benedict appeared to express some form of openness to the use of condoms to prevent the spread of AIDS in the case of prostitutes having sex with clients. We blogged about that a good bit.

The firestorm was caused by the fact that a lot of people either unwittingly or intentionally misrepresented this as some kind of blanket endorsement by the pope of condoms.

It was nothing of the kind. Responsible parties debated precisely what the pope’s meaning was, as there was some ambiguity to what he said, but it was clear that whatever he was saying was extremely limited in scope and certainly nothing like the broad aspirations of “safe sex” advocates.

At most, he was presenting the use of condoms by prostitutes as a way of limiting the evil done in the act of prostitution—because, y’know, prostitution is kinda like a soul-destroying mortal sin to begin with—so that in addition to destroying the soul through sin the act might not also destroy the body through a horrible disease.

Indeed, the pope spoke of this as being only a “first step” in taking responsibility for one’s actions, a step along a path that would lead one to cease the immoral sex altogether, making condoms unnecessary.

And then there was the fact that he also stressed that condoms are not the solution to the overall problem, which is a defective view of human sexuality.

It was really tough to get these points across—the limited nature of what Pope Benedict appeared to be expressing openness to—amid the throng of condom advocates mindlessly chanting that the pope had “approved condoms” much in the manner of a swarm of zombies mindlessly chanting “Brains . . . ! Brains . . . !”

Now the hordes of the spiritually undead have returned to their mindless chant with a new ad campaign designed to hijack Pope Benedict’s words and turn them to their own evil ends.

Thus the infamous “Catholics for Choice” and its “Good Catholics Use Condoms” campaign (condoms4life.com) have taken out an ad in a major Italian daily newspaper. Their press release is headlined,

Catholics Stand Behind Pope’s Statement that Condoms Save Lives — Urge Conference Attendees to Resist Minority Dissent

The occasion is a conference being held by the Vatican on HIV/AIDS.

Now consider the sheer willful malice and misrepresentation that is present in the headline alone:

* Catholics stand behind pope’s statement? Implies that all Catholics, or at least all faithful Catholics, endorse the goals of CFC, and that if you want to be a faithful Catholic, you must, too.

* Pope’s statement that condoms save lives? Implies that the pope issued a standard “safe sex” ideology endorsement of condoms, a reading only a brain-dead zombie could give to his remarks.

* Urge conference attendees to resist? Implies that conference attendees should rebel against traditional Catholic moral teaching—in spite of what the pope said about condoms not being the overall solution, etc. In other words, they should rebel against the pope in the name of the pope’s words.

* Resist minority dissent? Double-stigmatizes their opponents as both members of a minority and as dissenters—when in fact they are upholders of traditional Catholic morals and they include Pope Benedict himself among their number. In actuality, it is the CFC zombies who are themselves the dissenters.

The quality of chutzpah has often been defined as that of a person who kills his parents and then pleads for mercy on the grounds that he is an orphan. The sheer level of malice and deceit present in just the headline of the CFC brings this definition to mind.

But whatever chutzpah it may display, there is no way it constitutes a legitimate moral appeal. No one with a functioning conscience could so deliberately misrepresent the pope’s remarks in this way and, in fact, urge people to dissent from the pope’s teachings about sexuality on the grounds of the pope’s teachings about sexuality, all in the name of being a good Catholic.

The kind of conscience that could make that kind of pitch as a moral appeal has something about it that is seriously disordered—unhealthy—dead.

And so the condom zombies go shuffling on, trying to bite and infect as many other people with their deadly moral contagion.

Things go downhill from the headline of the press release, and it proceeds to tell us about an advertisement they’re placing in a major Italian newspaper in which they thank Pope Benedict in the following words (except in Italian):

We believe in God.
We believe that sex is sacred.
We believe in caring for each other.
We believe in using condoms.
We thank Pope Benedict for acknowledging that condoms save lives.

You can view the ad here (.pdf).

And read the rest of the press release here.

Watching a group like this so soullessly trying to subvert Pope Benedict’s words is just disgusting.

I’ll have more to say about this gang of moral miscreants soon, but in the mean time . . .

What do you think?