Category: Canon Law

What You Need to Know About the New Vatican Rules on Supernatural Phenomena

On Friday, May 17th, the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith (or DDF) released a document titled Norms for Proceeding in the Discernment of Alleged Supernatural Phenomena.

Accompanying the document was a note by Card. Victor Fernandez—the head of the DDF—introducing it and explaining the reasons why it was written.

This document revised, replaced, and expanded a previous document issued by the then Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (or CDF) from 1978.

Apart from matters of detail, there are several notable shifts in the approach that the new document takes.

These include (1) the scope of the document, (2) a procedure of greater transparency, and (3) a new classification system for apparitions and other supernatural phenomena.

When it comes to scope, the 1978 document dealt only with “presumed apparitions and revelations,”

while the new one expands its coverage to phenomena “such as alleged apparitions, visions, interior or exterior locutions, writings or messages, phenomena related to religious images, and psychophysical phenomena” (n. 6).

These also include reported Eucharistic miracles.

The greater transparency is illustrated in two ways.

First, when the 1978 document was released, it was distributed on a confidential basis and was meant only for bishops and their associates.

However, it leaked (including on my website, jimmyakin.com), and it was only published in 2011—thirty-three years after it was originally released.

By contrast, the new document was immediately placed on the Vatican website and a press conference introducing it was held.

Second, when the 1978 document was in force, local bishops were invited to submit their findings and conclusions about apparitions to the CDF for review and approval before announcing them (4:2).

However, when the Congregation approved the bishop’s planned announcement, it would ask that its name be kept out of the matter,

presumably to keep people from exaggerating what the CDF had done and announcing the apparition as “Vatican approved” or “Vatican condemned.”

Henceforth there will be more transparency.

Cardinal Fernandez explains, “Now, when the bishop makes his decision public, it will be stated as ‘in agreement with the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith.’”

At the core of the new document is a new way of classifying supernatural events.

The list presented is not exhaustive, but the Church’s conclusions will be “usually expressed” in terms of six categories:

Category 1 is Nihil obstat (which means, “Nothing obstructs”):

It is used for phenomena that are connected with “many signs of the action of the Holy Spirit” and so far “no aspects that are particularly critical or risky have been detected” (n. 17).

Category 2 is Prae oculis habeatur (which means, “It should be held before the eyes”):

It is used for phenomena that have “important positive signs” but also “some aspects of confusion or potential risks.”

Consequently, “doctrinal clarification might be necessary” (n. 18).

Category 3 is Curatur (which means, “It is to be attended to”):

It is used for phenomena that have “various or significant critical elements”—meaning negative ones

but have nevertheless “spread widely” and are connected with “verifiable spiritual fruits.”

In these cases, the bishop is not to encourage the phenomena

and to “seek out alternative expressions of devotion and possibly reorient its spiritual and pastoral aspects” (n. 19).

Category 4 is Sub mandato (which means, “Under mandate”):

It is used for phenomena that are “rich in positive elements”

but that are being misused in some way, such as by “a person, a family, or a group.”

Misuse might involve financial gain, immoral acts, or defiance of the diocesan bishop (n. 20).

Category 5 is Prohibetur et obstruatur (which means, “Hindered and to be blocked”):

It is used for phenomena that have “some positive elements” but have very serious “critical issues and risks.”

The bishop is to “declare publicly that adherence to this phenomenon is not allowed” (n. 21).

And Category 6 is Declaratio de non supernaturalitate (which means, “Declaration of non-supernaturality”):

It is used for phenomena that the bishop has “found to be not supernatural” based on “facts and evidence that are concrete and proven,”

such as a visionary admitting they lied, witnesses detecting fraud, or mythomania (that is, an excessive tendency for lying or exaggeration) (n. 22).

You’ll notice that what’s missing from that list is a firm declaration that the phenomenon is supernatural.

Not even the nihil obstat implies that this is the case.

Under the new norms, a phenomenon can still be declared supernatural,

but it will require a special act of the pope (n. 23).

This has to do with the reasons for the new norms.

In his accompanying note, Cardinal Fernandez explains that the previous tendency to conclude that phenomena were either supernatural or not supernatural had undesired side-effects.

If phenomena were declared to be supernatural it—in his words—“effectively oriented the faithful to think they had to believe in these phenomena, which sometimes were valued more than the Gospel itself.”

And I’m sure we’ve all met apparition enthusiasts who are more excited about new Marian statements than they are about Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John

Fernandez said that the lack of public clarity also contributed to confusion about the status of apparitions,

and he noted that the need to establish that an apparition is supernatural in order to give it some form of approval caused extensive delays.

Before committing the Church—or even a local diocese—to the idea that an event has been established as supernatural, special precautions were needed.

Fernandez notes: “The expectation of receiving a declaration about the supernatural nature of the event resulted in very few cases ever reaching a clear determination.

In fact, since 1950, no more than six cases have been officially resolved,

even though such phenomena have often increased without clear guidance and with the involvement of people from many dioceses.

Therefore, one can assume that many other cases were either handled differently or just not handled at all.”

Which is pretty bluntly honest of the Cardinal.

The new Nihil obstat classification is meant to allow a more expeditious way to provide a form of approval for an event and recognize the action of the Holy Spirit in things connected with it,

“without expressing any certainty about the supernatural authenticity of the phenomenon itself” (n. 17),

and thus without implying to the faithful that they are obliged to believe it.

Of course, the declaration that an event is not supernatural still exists,

and it is the sixth category of the ones for regular use.

In addition, the four new categories reflect the complexity of the evidence regarding an event and the effects it is having in the Church.

Category two (Prae oculis habeatur) is for events that are favored by good evidence but with some reasons for concern,

so a full Nihil obstat isn’t warranted.

The opposite is category five (Prohibetur et obstruatur), where there are very serious problems and only a few positive elements,

yet a full decree of non-supernaturalness isn’t warranted.

In the middle are two categories for events where there is a difference between the event itself and the impact it is having in the Church.

In category four (Sub mandato), the event itself has a lot of positive elements,

but some particular group is misusing it.

The reverse is category three (Curatur), where there are significant problems with the event

but—despite that fact—the event has become widely popular so that “a ban that could upset the people of God is not recommended” but some kind of healthy reorientation is desired.

In addition to the things Cardinal Fernandez names as the reasons for the revision of the norms, I strongly suspect that the creation of this category was one.

In 2010, Benedict XVI instituted a commission to examine the popular but controversial Medjugorje apparitions, and the commission reported its results to Pope Francis in 2014.

In 2017, Pope Francis stated that the initial Medjugorje apparitions deserved further study but was doubtful about the later ones.

This meant that it was hard to give a “supernatural” or “not supernatural” evaluation of Medjugorje, and the Vatican has not made an official announcement in all the years since.

It thus would make sense to review and revise the categories used to classify events like Medjugorje, and the Curatur category sounds like it was designed for the conclusions that the Vatican reached about it.

Consequently, I suspect that an announcement about Medjugorje may finally be on the horizon.

It is important to note that the new norms do not change any classifications of apparitions that currently exist.

Those declared supernatural or non-supernatural still have the same status, though it is possible they could be revised at some point.

Without naming it, Cardinal Fernandez mentions how the status of the Ida Peerdeman, “Our Lady of All Nations” apparitions went back and forth, with a negative judgment finally being reaffirmed in 2020.

Further, the criteria for Nihil obstat note that particularly critical or risky things have not been detected “at least so far”—

implying that the ruling is a provisional one that could be changed if such things do emerge.

I think that—on balance—this new set of norms is promising.

It has a more sophisticated approach to the complex nature of reported supernatural phenomena, how the evidence can be mixed and change over time, and what their impact on the Church can be.

It also strikes me that it may encourage the faithful to have a more healthy appreciation of such phenomena that is open but discerning,

without automatically assuming that an event is obligatory for belief in all of its details or to be completely and utterly rejected.

Mass Stipends and Simony

If you look at the bulletin for a typical Catholic parish, you’re likely to see a schedule of upcoming Masses along with notes for “Mass intentions” like “for the holy souls in purgatory,” “pro populo,” “the Brown family,” “John and Jane Smith,” etc.

Some of these are straightforward. If the Mass intention is for the holy souls in purgatory, that means that the priest will intend to apply the spiritual benefits of the Mass in a special way to these souls.

Similarly, in Latin, pro populo means “for the people,” and so that Mass will be intended to benefit the people—meaning the people of the parish.

But what about Mass intentions for “the Brown family” or “John and Jane Smith”? Obviously, the Masses are intended for the benefit of the named individuals, but why do they rank? Why do they get Masses celebrated for their benefit?

The answer is that they asked. At some point, they spoke to the priest (or called the parish office), said that they’d like to have a Mass celebrated for their intentions, and got put on the schedule.

You can do the same thing!

But there’s something else that they likely did, which was to offer what’s known as a Mass offering or “stipend.” This is a sum of money that is given to the priest who celebrates the Mass.

At this point, your spider sense make go off. You may be wondering, “Money? For a Mass? Is this some clever device to extract money from the faithful? Is it a form of clerical abuse of the laity? And since the Mass is a sacred thing, is this the sin of simony?”

As we’ll see, the answer to these questions is no—at least, not unless a priest is breaking the law.

The Gospels record Jesus making statements that exist in tension with each other. For example, as Jesus is sending out the Twelve on a preaching mission, he tells them not to take a bunch of supplies with them, because “the laborer deserves his food” (Matt. 10:10). Luke’s parallel passage has “the laborer deserves his wages” (Luke 10:7).

Passages like this indicate that ministers of the Gospel have a right to earn their living from their ministry—a theme stressed in other passages in the New Testament (e.g., 1 Cor. 9:4-14; 1 Tim. 5:18), and St. Paul summarizes Jesus’ teaching by stating, “the Lord commanded that those who proclaim the gospel should get their living by the gospel” (1 Cor. 9:14).

On the other hand, just two verses before Jesus told the Twelve that the worker deserves his food, he told them, “You received without pay, give without pay” (Matt. 10:8).

That makes it sound like ministers shouldn’t charge for their work. As we often do in Christianity, we thus have two principles that at first seem opposed and need to be harmonized. They both reflect aspects of a deeper, more complex truth.

Light may be shed on the situation by the case of Simon Magus. In Acts 8, the magic practitioner Simon converts to Christianity through the ministry of Philip the Evangelist in Samaria, and then Peter and John arrive to confirm the Samaritan converts.

When the converts receive the Holy Spirit, Simon is impressed and offers them money, saying, “Give me also this power, that any one on whom I lay my hands may receive the Holy Spirit” (Acts 8:19). Peter then rebukes him “because you thought you could obtain the gift of God with money” (Acts 8:20).

This led to Simon’s sin being named after him—simony—and today it is defined as “the buying and selling of spiritual things” (CCC 2121).

How can we harmonize the biblical data? On the one hand, ministers have a right to earn their living from the gospel, so they must be able to receive money—or goods and services—in connection with their work. That’s not the problem.

The problem must be something more specific—like how or under what conditions they receive the money.

One way of receiving money is accepting donations in a general way, without them being tied to any specific act of ministry. This is how most ministers today—Catholic and otherwise—earn their salaries.

However, you also could pay someone on a per act basis. This is the way non-salaried employees get paid—e.g., for each bushel of grain harvested, each chair put together, or each article written, they receive a certain amount of money. The same could be applied to ministers.

There’s nothing immoral about either a general salary or a per act payment, and the same applies to ministerial laborers as much as any others.

So what was wrong about Simon’s situation? For a start, he was essentially offering to buy ordination from the apostles. But ordination is not simply a commercial good. It is a gift of God and a calling to the service of others. That fits with the definition of simony as the buying of spiritual things.

But perhaps there’s something more to learn here. What would Simon have done with ordination if he had obtained it? Presumably, he would have used it to make money.

He’d previously amazed people with his magic—from which he no doubt earned income—and after ordination he would offer to give the Holy Spirit to people in exchange for money, which would fit with the other side of simony—the selling of spiritual things.

This also would have been wrong for Simon to do, but why is that the case if ministers have a right to earn their living from ministry?

Think about what happens in a store: There’s something you want to buy—maybe even something you desperately need—and the seller asks money for it. But what if you don’t have the money? What happens then is that you don’t get the wanted or needed item.

Now cast your mind back to the ancient world, when the overwhelming number of people were poor and barely scraping by, living hand-to-mouth.

Spiritual things are the most essential things in life, and if they are being sold—in the proper sense of the term—then the poor would just have to do without spiritual things!

You’re a poor person and can’t pay to get baptized to be forgiven and go to heaven? Too bad for you!

Yet God loves the poor, and so Christian ministry must not allow such situations to occur.

Christian ministers deserve to earn a living from their ministry, but the poor deserve to have the benefits of that ministry, even if they can’t pay. Any system of compensation for Christian ministers must incorporate these principles.

Therefore, ministers cannot act like shopkeepers and deny spiritual goods to those who can’t afford to pay for them. There’s nothing wrong with compensating ministers on a per act-of-ministry basis, but if they refuse to minister to those who cannot pay then they cross the line into selling spiritual goods and thus into simony.

What about Mass stipends? There have been abuses of Mass stipends in the past, but for centuries the Church has implemented strict policies to prevent abuses.

There’s nothing wrong with compensating a priest for saying a Mass for your intentions, but there need to be—and are—laws to keep this from becoming a money-making scheme, an abuse of the faithful, or outright simony.

The principal laws are found in canons 945-958 of the Code of Canon Law. That’s right, 14 canons devoted to just this topic! Counted other ways, the section amounts to 22 subsections and over 800 words—just devoted to regulating the kinds of stipends priests can accept and how they must handle them. That’s an indication of how seriously the Church takes this issue.

A fundamental protection is set up even earlier, when the Code says:

The minister is to seek nothing for the administration of the sacraments beyond the offerings defined by competent authority, always taking care that the needy are not deprived of the assistance of the sacraments because of poverty (can. 848).

So a priest can’t ask (or hint) that he’d like more than what the locally approved offering is. In the United States, this ranges between $5 and $20 for the celebration of Mass, with most dioceses setting it around $10.

And even those who are impoverished are not to be “deprived of the assistance of the sacraments.” Later, this theme is picked up again: “It is recommended earnestly to priests that they celebrate Mass for the intention of the Christian faithful, especially the needy, even if they have not received an offering” (can. 945 §2).

With the poor and others who have not made an offering taken care of, that prevents outright selling and thus simony.

It also keeps this from being a form of spiritual abuse of the faithful: The Church earnestly exhorts the priest to say Mass for the intentions of a member of the faithful even without an offering.

And about this being a money-making scheme? The Code provides, “No one is permitted to accept more offerings for Masses to be applied by himself than he can satisfy within a year” (can. 953).

Except for Christmas, priests are allowed to keep only one Mass offering for himself per day (can. 951 §1), so if you multiply $10 by 365 days, that would be an annual sum of just $3,650. Nobody is going to get rich on that.

The Code also provides numerous other protections for the faithful. For example, if the faithful give an offering and it isn’t clear how many Masses they want said, the priest is supposed to compute it from the offering.

Back when I entered the Church in 1992, the standard Mass stipend in Arkansas was $5, and one family in my parish made a $50 donation—wanting only one Mass—and they were surprised to find 10 Masses listed on the schedule for their intentions!

The Code also mandates a bookkeeping system to ensure that the Masses are said. Pastors of parishes are “to have a special book in which they note accurately the number of Masses to be celebrated, the intention, the offering given, and their celebration,” and the bishop or his representatives are required to audit this book every year (can. 958).

The Code even provides punishments for priests who traffic in Mass offerings (can. 1383).

There are additional provisions to ensure that the wishes of the faithful are strictly honored in this matter, and the Church is very serious about Mass offerings remaining modest, in keeping with the legitimate financial support of the Church and its ministers, and not turning into a crass money-making scheme.

Are Saturday Evening Masses Based on an Ancient Jewish Practice?

According to the current Code of Canon Law:

A person who assists at a Mass celebrated anywhere in a Catholic rite either on the feast day itself or in the evening of the preceding day satisfies the obligation of participating in the Mass (can. 1248 §1).

Sunday is a holy day of obligation (can. 1246 §1), and as a result, you can fulfill your Sunday obligation either by going to Mass during the 24 hours of Sunday or on Saturday evening.

(The same principle applies to holy days of obligation that fall on other days of the week—though we won’t go into that here).

Masses celebrated on the evening of the preceding day are commonly called “vigil Masses,” though this isn’t their official name.

Instead, they are formally known as “anticipated” Masses since they use the same readings as the following day rather than special readings designed for a vigil service.

 

A Proposed Explanation

Many people want to know why this is permitted. Why can we fulfill our Sunday obligation by going to Mass on Saturday evening?

A common proposal is that it is because—in the Jewish timekeeping system—the day begins at sunset, and so there is a sense in which Sunday begins on Saturday evening.

Catholics are thus allowed to fulfill their Sunday obligation at this time in honor of Christianity’s Jewish heritage.

It’s a plausible explanation, but is it true?

Here are three problems with it.

 

Jewish Practice Was Inconsistent

The first problem is that Jewish reckoning of when the day begins was inconsistent.

There are four logical points during the day where it makes sense to start a new day:

    • Sunrise
    • Sunset
    • Midnight
    • Midday (i.e., noon)

Different cultures have used various points for their day divisions. In the Handbook of Biblical Chronology (2nd ed.), Jack Finegan writes:

11. In ancient Egypt the day probably began at dawn, in ancient Mesopotamia it began in the evening.

Among the Greeks the day was reckoned from sunset to sunset, while the Romans already began the day in the “modern” fashion at midnight.

Summing up the different reckonings among different people in his time Pliny [the Elder] wrote:

The Babylonians count the period between two sunrises, the Athenians that between two sunsets, the Umbrians from midday to midday, the common people everywhere from dawn to dark, the Roman priests and the authorities who fixed the official day, and also the Egyptians and Hipparchus, the period from midnight to midnight [Natural History 2.79.188].

But what about the Israelites? When did they reckon the day as starting? The answer is that it varied. Finegan continues:

12. In the Old Testament the earlier practice seems to have been to consider that the day began in the morning.

In Gen 19:34, for example, the “morrow” (asv) or “next day” (rsv) clearly begins with the morning after the preceding night.

The later practice was to count the day as beginning in the evening.

So in the Old Testament it looks like the early practice was to reckon the day as beginning at sunrise, but the later practice seems to have been to reckon it as beginning at sunset.

And since the New Testament is later than the Old Testament, that means that—in Jesus’ day—the day began at sunset, right?

Well . . .

13. In the New Testament in the Synoptic Gospels and Acts the day seems usually to be considered as beginning in the morning.

Mark 11:11 states that Jesus entered Jerusalem, went into the temple, and when he had looked at everything, since it was “now eventide” (asv) or “already late” (rsv), went out to Bethany with the twelve; verse 12 continues the narrative and tells that on the “morrow” (asv) or the “following day” (rsv) they came back to the city.

It is evident that the new day has begun with the morning following the preceding evening.

Likewise Matt 28:1; Mark 16:1f., and Luke 23:56–24:1 all picture the first day of the week beginning with the dawn following the preceding Sabbath.

And Acts 4:3, for an example in that book, tells how Peter and John were put in custody “until the morrow, for it was already evening,” thus clearly indicating that the new day would begin the next morning.

It has been suggested that this counting of the day as beginning with the morning is a continuation of the earlier Old Testament practice already described (§12), and that this usage was maintained in parts of Galilee and was followed by Jesus and the early disciples, which would account for its appearing so frequently in the Synoptic Gospels and Acts.

But is there no trace in the Synoptic Gospels and Acts of the idea of the day beginning at sunset? And what about the Gospel of John? Finegan continues:

On the other hand, even though the common reckoning in the Synoptic Gospels is from the morning, in Mark 1:32 = Luke 4:40, the later Old Testament (§12) and Jewish usage of counting the one day as ending and the next as beginning at sunset is plainly reflected in the fact that the people of Capernaum were free to bring the sick to Jesus at sunset when the Sabbath came to an end.

As for the Fourth Gospel, in John 20:1 Mary Magdalene comes to the tomb while it is still dark, yet it is already “on the first day of the week.”

This can be explained by supposing that the late Old Testament and Jewish usage is in view, according to which the new day had begun at the preceding sunset, or it can be explained equally well by supposing that John is giving the description in terms of the official Roman day which, as Pliny told us (§11), began at midnight.

In either case, the new day had begun already before the sunrise.

So Jewish practice about when the day began was inconsistent. The Old Testament uses both sunrise and sunset as points for beginning the day, and the New Testament isn’t consistent, either.

The Synoptic Gospels and Acts usually have the day starting with sunrise (though not always), and it isn’t clear (at least from what Finegan writes) whether John is using sunset or midnight.

This is not a strong basis for saying the modern practice of anticipated Masses is simply a continuation of a well-established Jewish practice from the days of Jesus.

However, there’s another problem.

 

The Practice Was Introduced in the 1960s

The second problem is that anticipated Masses date to the 1960s.

They aren’t something that the Church has been doing for the last 2,000 years—which is what you would expect if they were simply the continuation of an ancient Jewish practice.

Instead, what happened was that in 1964, the Vatican made an announcement (on Vatican Radio) that the faithful could fulfill their Sunday obligation on Saturday evenings in certain churches that had been designated for this purpose by the local bishop.

The permission applied only to Sundays (not other holy days of obligation), and it did not apply to all locations where Mass was being celebrated—only to specially designated churches.

Most fundamentally, it was only at the discretion of the local bishop—not part of the Church’s universal law.

That changed in 1983 with the release of the revised Code of Canon Law, which removed these restrictions and allowed the faithful to fulfill their Mass obligation on the preceding evening for Sundays and other holy days and anywhere a Mass is being celebrated, as long as it is “in a Catholic rite.”

(This means, among other things, that the Mass doesn’t have to use the next day’s readings, as these will vary between rites; e.g., the Chaldean rite uses a different lectionary than the Roman rite).

So this is not an immemorial practice. It was introduced to the universal Church—at the bishop’s discretion—in the 1960s and then broadened in 1983. It thus isn’t simply a continuation of an ancient Jewish practice.

Still, it’s possible that—in the 1960s zeal for restoring ancient liturgical uses—that the Vatican decided to restore an older practice that had fallen into disuse.

So is that what they did?

 

It’s Not What They Said

The third problem with the idea is that it’s just not what the Vatican said when they introduced the practice.

On June 12, 1964, Vatican Radio announced:

The faithful can also satisfy the Sunday precept of holy Mass by assisting at the celebration of the divine service in the afternoon of Saturday in churches specifically designated by the local ecclesiastical authority.

The Sacred Congregation of the Council, at the request of local Ordinaries [i.e., bishops], granted the faculty to celebrate holy Mass after first Vespers on Saturday together with the valid discharge of the Sunday precept.

It is left to the prudent judgment of the Ordinaries to indicate the times, localities, and churches which will enjoy this faculty as has already been done in some dioceses of Italy, Switzerland, and Argentina (n. This concession has also been recently granted to Catholics in Israel where, as is known, Sunday is considered a working day).

Among the considerations which have prompted this concession at the present time are:

        • the enormous and ever-increasing frequency of weekend trips and of skiing excursions for whose patronizers the schedules of departure and return make it at least difficult to fulfill the Sunday precept;
        • the situation in which numerous mountain villagers find themselves where, during the long periods of isolation brought about by accumulation of snow, part of the inhabitants would not be able to get to church and can at present have contact with the priest on Saturday;
        • the serious dearth of clergy in some countries in which at present the priest by being able to celebrate four Sunday Masses including that on Saturday, will meet the greater number of the faithful [Canon Law Digest 6:670-671].

So the Vatican indicated that the reasons anticipated Masses were introduced included modern weekend travel, weather conditions, and a shortage of priests in some countries.

None of these considerations were restoring an ancient Jewish practice.

However, Vatican Radio did say that the named factors were “among the considerations” leading to the decision. That doesn’t completely rule out that the decision was influenced by an older Jewish practice in some way.

But it would indicate that this either wasn’t a consideration or wasn’t a principal consideration.

 

Conclusion

In light of these factors, it wouldn’t be responsible to tell people that we can fulfill our Sunday obligations on Saturday evening based on ancient Jewish time reckoning:

    • Ancient Jewish practice was actually mixed, including in the time of Christ
    • There was no continuation of the day-begins-at-sunset practice in the Church, and anticipated Masses were only introduced in the 1960s
    • When they were introduced, all the named factors leading to the decision were modern, not ancient

 

Blessings: 7 Things to Know and Share

 

There is currently considerable discussion about whether it is possible to bless persons in same-sex unions.

In light of this, it can be useful to step back and take a look at the topic in general.

Here are 7 things to know and share about blessings.

 

1) What are blessings?

The English word bless is used to translate the Latin word benedicere and the Greek word eulogein. Both of these mean “to speak good.”

In Scripture, the terms have a variety of uses. For example, one may bless God by speaking good of God—i.e., praising him (Ps. 68:26, Jas. 3:9, etc.).

However, another prominent use of the term is speaking good about something other than God in hopes of bringing about good effects. Thus the patriarch Isaac intended to bless his son Esau to bring good things upon him, but through Rebekah’s intervention, this blessing was stolen by Jacob (Gen. 27).

To bless is the opposite of to curse (Latin, malidicere, “to speak evil”). When a person curses something, he speaks evil about it in order to bring about evil or bad effects. Thus the Moabite king Balak sought to have the prophet Balaam curse Israel to harm the nation, but through God’s intervention the curse was turned into a blessing (Num. 22-24).

Blessings and curses of this type are sometimes called invocative because they invoke either good or evil upon the person or thing.

Whether the blessing or curse ultimately achieves its effect depends on the will of God, who is the one being invoked and asked to help or harm someone.

Another kind of blessing has developed which involves permanently changing the status of someone or something by setting it apart for a holy purpose. This type of blessing is sometimes called constitutive because it constitutes the person or thing in its new, holy status. This form of blessing is also sometimes referred to as a consecration.

The Catechism states:

Certain blessings have a lasting importance because they consecrate persons to God, or reserve objects and places for liturgical use.

Among those blessings which are intended for persons—not to be confused with sacramental ordination—are the blessing of the abbot or abbess of a monastery, the consecration of virgins and widows, the rite of religious profession, and the blessing of certain ministries of the Church (readers, acolytes, catechists, etc.).

The dedication or blessing of a church or an altar, the blessing of holy oils, vessels, and vestments, bells, etc., can be mentioned as examples of blessings that concern objects (CCC 1672).

 

2) What can be blessed?

A wide variety of people and things can be blessed. The Catechism specifically mentions persons, meals, objects, and places (CCC 1671).

 

3) Who are the parties involved in a blessing?

There are several parties that can be involved in a blessing. They include:

    • The person being blessed (or those that are helped by a blessed object or thing)
    • The person who performs the blessing
    • The Church, which has authorized some blessings to be given in its name
    • God, who is the ultimate source of all blessing (Jas. 1:17)

The Church is not involved in all blessings but only those it has authorized. These may be considered official blessings. They involve the intercession of the Church, as expressed through the authorized person performing the blessing.

Other blessings—such as those performed by ordinary people (e.g., when we say “God bless you” to someone)—may be considered unofficial.

 

4) Do blessings take effect automatically?

The standard answer is no, but careful reflection suggests that the answer is more complex than that.

In the case of constitutive blessings—such as the blessing of an abbot or abbess or the blessing of a church or an altar—the answer would appear to be yes.

If the Church’s official rite of blessing has been used for an abbot or abbess, that person really has been consecrated or set aside for a holy office, even if the man or woman is personally unworthy. Similarly, if a church or altar has been consecrated, it really has been set apart for sacred use.

When it comes to invocative blessings, the matter is different. Blessings are not sacraments but sacramentals. In fact, the Catechism notes that “Among sacramentals blessings . . . come first” (CCC 1671).

Sacraments are rites instituted by Jesus that God has promised to use to distribute his grace—especially sanctifying grace—so long as the recipient does not put a barrier in the way of receiving it.

Sacramentals are rites instituted by the Church, and so God has not promised to distribute his grace on each and every occasion that they are performed. The 1907 Catholic Encyclopedia states:

Blessings are not sacraments; they are not of divine institution; they do not confer sanctifying grace; and they do not produce their effects in virtue of the rite itself, or ex opere operato. They are sacramentals.

Similarly, the Catechism states:

Sacramentals do not confer the grace of the Holy Spirit in the way that the sacraments do, but by the Church’s prayer, they prepare us to receive grace and dispose us to cooperate with it (CCC 1670).

In general, whether an invocative blessing has its intended effect will depend on the piety of the one receiving the blessing and whether it is God’s will for the person to receive the intended good.

 

5) What effects do blessings have?

The Catholic Encyclopedia states:

[T]hey produce the following specific effects:

        1. Excitation of pious emotions and affections of the heart and, by means of these, remission of venial sin and of the temporal punishment due to it;
        2. freedom from power of evil spirits;
        3. preservation and restoration of bodily health.
        4. various other benefits, temporal or spiritual.

All these effects are not necessarily inherent in any one blessing; some are caused by one formula, and others by another, according to the intentions of the Church.

The particular effects that a blessing involves will depend on the words used in the blessing—i.e., what does the blessing ask God to do?

One should consult The Book of Blessings for the words used in official blessings.

 

6) Who can perform blessings?

There has long been an association between blessings and the priesthood. Thus Numbers 6:22-27 states:

The Lord spoke to Moses, saying, “Speak to Aaron and his sons, saying, Thus you shall bless the people of Israel: you shall say to them,

‘The Lord bless you and keep you;

the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you;

the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.’

So shall they put my name upon the people of Israel, and I will bless them.”

However, blessings were not restricted to priests. In the Old Testament, the patriarchs gave blessings to their children, and various prophets (including Balaam) pronounced blessings also.

Also, Israel—like the Church—was called to be “a kingdom of priests” (Ex. 19:6, Rev. 1:6; cf. 1 Pet. 2:9). As a result, there are situations in which laity also can give blessings. The Catechism explains:

Sacramentals derive from the baptismal priesthood: every baptized person is called to be a “blessing,” and to bless.

Hence lay people may preside at certain blessings; the more a blessing concerns ecclesial and sacramental life, the more is its administration reserved to the ordained ministry (bishops, priests, or deacons) (CCC 1669).

The Church’s Book of Blessings notes who can perform which individual blessings. Sometimes this will be the bishop, sometimes a priest, sometimes a deacon, sometimes a lay person, and sometimes a combination of these.

Among others, laity are authorized to perform the blessing of an Advent wreath, a Christmas manger or Nativity scene, a Christmas tree, and throats on St. Blase’s Day (Feb. 3). They also are authorized to help with the distribution of ashes on Ash Wednesday, though the blessing of the ashes is reserved to a priest or deacon.

There are no limits to who may perform unofficial blessings. Any person can say, “God bless you” to another, bless a meal, or bless their children.

 

7) Where can I learn more?

The single most authoritative source on blessings is the Church’s Book of Blessings. It contains not only the texts used for individual, official blessings, it also contains introductions to the individual texts, as well as a general introduction to the subject of blessings.

Also helpful is Fr. Stephen J. Rossetti’s book The Priestly Blessing: Recovering the Gift. It contains a discussion of the history of blessings in light of Church teaching and the opinions of theologians.

Has the Church Abolished Third Class Relics?

Here is a traditional way of categorizing relics:

    • First class relics consist of the bodies or parts of the bodies of saints or blesseds.
    • Second class relics consist of clothing or other articles used by the saint or blesseds.
    • Third class relics consist of objects touched to a first class relic (or, according to some accounts, also to a second class relic).

These categories are familiar to many Catholics in the English-speaking world, but (at the time of writing), Wikipedia says something interesting in its article on relics:

In 2017, the Congregation for the Causes of Saints abolished the relics of the third degree, introducing a two-stage scale of classification of relics: significant (insigni) and non-significant (non insigni) relics.

Is this true? Has the Vatican changed the way relics are categorized? And have third class relics been abolished?

 

The Three-Fold System

To answer this question, we need to ask about the history of the three-fold system of classification.

Despite considerable searching, I have been unable to locate any official Church document that uses the terms “first class,” “second class,” and “third class” for relics.

Neither do the terms appear in scholarly sources where you might expect it to appear. For example, the article on relics in the 1911 Catholic Encyclopedia does not use these terms. Similarly, the terms are not used in the 1970 encyclopedia Sacramentum Mundi.

 

What Church Documents Say

What do we find in official Church documents when relics are discussed?

According to the 1917 Code of Canon Law:

The important [Latin, insignes] relics of saints or blesseds are the body, head, arm, forearm, heart, tongue, hand, leg, or other part of the body that suffered in a martyr, provided it is intact and is not little (can. 1281 §2).

Here we have only a definition of important relics, but the implication would be that there also are less important ones.

The parallel canon in the 1983 Code of Canon Law (can. 1190) does not provide a definition of important relics, but it does refer to “relics of great significance,” implying that there also are relics of lesser significance.

The 1977 rite for the Dedication of a Church and an Altar discusses placing relics beneath a church’s altar and notes:

Such relics should be of size sufficient for them to be recognized as parts of human bodies.

Hence excessively small relics of one or more saints must not be placed beneath the altar (II:5a).

The requirement that relics should be “of sufficient size . . . to be recognized as parts of human bodies” also corresponds to the 1917 Code’s requirement that an important relic be “intact” and “not little.”

Another discussion is found in the Congregation for Divine Worship’s 2002 Directory for Popular Piety and the Liturgy, which states:

The term “relics of the saints” principally signifies the bodies—or notable parts of the bodies—of the saints who, as distinguished members of Christ’s mystical body and as temples of the Holy Spirit (cf. 1 Cor 3, 16; 6, 19; 2 Cor 6, 16) in virtue of their heroic sanctity, now dwell in heaven, but who once lived on earth.

Objects which belonged to the saints, such as personal objects, clothes, and manuscripts are also considered relics, as are objects which have touched their bodies or tombs such as oils, cloths, and images (n. 236).

The Directory covers what the term relics “principally signifies”—i.e., “bodies—or notable parts of the bodies” of saints.

This largely corresponds to what the 1917 Code referred to as “important relics,” except that the latter named only eight body parts (head, arm, forearm, heart, tongue, hand, leg, or part that suffered in martyrdom).

The 2002 document extended this to any part of the body, provided it is “notable”—corresponding to the 1917 Code’s requirement, “provided [that] it is intact and is not little.”

The Directory also covers other things besides what the term “principally” means. It also includes things owned by the saints or touched to their bodies or tombs.

 

Evaluating the Three-Fold System

If you look at the discussion provided by the Directory for Popular Piety, it would be easy to read the first class/second class/third class system onto it:

    • First, the Directory mentions bodies and parts of them.
    • Second, it mentions things that belonged to the saints.
    • Third, it mentions objects touched to bodies.

However, there are some differences. One is that the Directory mentions “notable” parts of bodies—not very small ones—so the latter would not be within what the term relics “principally signifies.”

And second, the Directory refers to “objects which have touched their bodies” as relics. It does not discuss whether an object touched to just a part of the saint’s body is a relic. If you touch the object to the substantially intact body of the saint, it clearly would count, but if you just touched it to a saint’s finger (or something smaller), it might not.

Finally, the Directory also includes objects touch to the tombs of saints—not just their bodies—as relics.

Despite these differences, the three-fold classification system approximates what the Directory says, and it is a useful way of categorizing relics.

Yet it does not appear that the three-fold system is an official one. The fact that Church documents don’t use it and that it does not appear in various scholarly resources suggest that this is instead a popular system of categorization and that the terms “first class,” “second class,” and “third class” are non-official.

Each of the Church sources that we’ve looked at uses primarily a two-category system. Into the first category goes what the 1917 Code called “important relics,” what the 1977 rite of dedication considered relics suitable for putting under altars, and what the 2002 Directory said that the term relics “principally signifies.”

Into the second category goes everything else. By implication of the 1917 Code, this would include non-enumerated body parts or ones that are small or non-intact. By implication of the 1977 rite, it would include body parts that are too small to be recognized as parts of the human body. And according to the 2002 Directory, it would include non-notable body parts, objects that belonged to the saints, and objects touched to their bodies or tombs.

 

Introducing a Two-Stage System?

Now let’s look at what the Congregation for Divine Worship did recently. In 2017, it published an instruction titled Relics in the Church: Authenticity and Preservation. The introduction to this document states:

The body of the blesseds and of the saints or notable parts of the bodies themselves or the sum total of the ashes obtained by their cremation are traditionally considered significant relics [Italian, reliquie insigni]. . . .

Little fragments of the body of the blesseds and of the saints as well as objects that have come in direct contact with their person are considered non-significant relics [Italian, reliquie non insigni].

Here we see the same two-fold classification system we’ve seen in other Church documents: the important relics and everything else.

The English translation uses the term “significant,” but you’ll note that the Italian original uses the adjective insigni, which is a cognate of the Latin term insignes, which was used in the 1917 Code (quoted above). It also could be translated distinguished, eminent, great, or important.

But we’re talking about the same, two-fold classification system that Church documents have traditionally used.

Wikipedia is wrong in saying that the Congregation “introduce[ed] a two-stage scale of classification of relics.”

 

Abolishing Third Class Relics?

Did the Congregation abolish third class relics?

Clearly, it did not. Among the non-significant relics it included (1) “little fragments of the body” and (2) “objects that have come into direct contact with their person.”

The second of these two categories would include both what English-speakers commonly call second class relics (objects owned by the saints, since obviously they touched the things that belong to them) and third class relics (since the document does not say that the saint must have touched them during life).

Wikipedia is thus wrong (or at least its current article is). All the 2017 instruction did was repeat the same two-fold classification system that Church documents have traditionally employed, and it elaborated the same sub-categories that are evident from the 2002 Directory on Popular Piety.

The first class/second class/third class categorization is simply an unofficial system that overlaps with and approximates the official one.

Here is how the two systems compare:

Item Church System Unoffical System
Body Significant First Class
Notable body part Significant First Class
Small body part Non-significant First Class
Object owned by saint Non-significant Second Class
Object touched directly to saint or tomb Non-significant Third Class

 

More People Are Demanding to Be ‘Debaptized’ — Here’s What’s Wrong With That

In some places, the demand for debaptisms has been going up, which could be rather surprising.

“What’s a debaptism?” you might ask. “Is that even a thing? How can you un-pour water on someone?”

The short answer is that No, debaptism isn’t a thing, but that hasn’t stopped people from asking for it. And yes, “debaptism” is the language they use. The Pillar explains:

The Catholic Church in Belgium reported on Wednesday a sharp rise in the number of people asking for their names to be removed from baptismal registers.

The Church’s latest annual report, published on Nov. 30, said there were 5,237 such requests in 2021, compared to 1,261 in 2020 and 1,800 in 2019. …

Nevertheless, a rising movement in Europe promoting ‘debaptism’ has encouraged Catholics to write to Church authorities asking to be removed from parish baptismal records. The movement is a consortium of several political and philosophical factions among European secularists.

 

A Movement With Some History

This movement has been around for a while. For example, in 2012, NPR reported:

In France, an elderly man is fighting to make a formal break with the Catholic Church. He’s taken the Church to court over its refusal to let him nullify his baptism, in a case that could have far-reaching effects.

Seventy-one-year-old Rene LeBouvier’s parents and his brother are buried in a churchyard in the tiny village of Fleury in northwest France. He himself was baptized in the Romanesque stone church and attended Mass here as a boy. …

But his views began to change in the 1970s, when he was introduced to free thinkers. As he didn’t believe in God anymore, he thought it would be more honest to leave the Church. So he wrote to his diocese and asked to be un-baptized.

 

Problems for the Debaptizers

There are problems with what the debaptizers are asking for.

It’s not possible to un-pour water on someone after it has been poured on them. This makes debaptism physically impossible (though some atheist organizations have used tongue-in-cheek ceremonies with hairdryers).

However, it’s also not theologically possible to reverse all the effects of baptism. The Catechism of the Catholic Church states:

Incorporated into Christ by baptism, the person baptized is configured to Christ. Baptism seals the Christian with the indelible spiritual mark (character) of his belonging to Christ. No sin can erase this mark, even if sin prevents baptism from bearing the fruits of salvation. Given once for all, baptism cannot be repeated. (1272)

So, when you get baptized, an indelible spiritual mark is put on your soul, and nothing can remove this.

You can commit sins that will remove the sanctifying grace that baptism gave you, but the mark remains.

And — if you change your mind and repent — you can return to grace and resume life as a Christian.

You don’t need to get baptized again. In fact, you can’t get baptized again, because the spiritual mark remains.

 

What Happens in “Debaptisms”?

What happens when a person decides he doesn’t want to be a Christian anymore and sends in a “debaptism” request? The Pillar explains:

A spokesman for the Belgian bishops’ conference told The Pillar on Dec. 1 that when the Church received a ‘debaptism’ request, ‘it is noted in the register in the margin that the person has requested to be de-registered.’

‘You are not allowed to cross out or delete an entry in an official register,’ he explained.

That makes sense, because there needs to be a record of the fact the person was baptized. Suppose that they later change their mind and decide they want to live as a Christian again. There needs to be a record of the fact that they were baptized in order to show that they shouldn’t be baptized again.

What happened in the case of Monsieur LeBouvier? NPR reports:

‘They sent me a copy of my records, and in the margins next to my name, they wrote that I had chosen to leave the Church,’ he says.

Specifically, the revised record said that he “has renounced his baptism.” But that wasn’t enough for Lebouvier, and he sued the Church to have his name removed from the records.

 

A Parallel Case

Why would he do that? Let’s consider a parallel case — getting civilly married.

People sometimes go before a government official, get hitched, and then later change their minds and decide they don’t want to be married to each other after all.

When that happens, they get a divorce, and they seem to be happy with that. They don’t demand that the state go back and erase all records of them ever having been married.

There are good reasons the state doesn’t do that. Various legal matters may turn on the fact that the two people were married at one time (taxes, child custody cases, inheritances, lawsuits, etc.), and the state needs to have a record of the marriage — even if the state now regards it as dissolved.

 

Um … Why?

So why would someone like LeBouvier want his baptismal record obliterated?

Part of it could be confusion caused by poor catechesis. He might think that the existence of a physical record of his baptism itself makes him a Christian.

This would be a case of magical thinking, however, as it isn’t writing on a piece of paper that does this.

On the other hand, it could be cantankerousness. LeBouvier could have simply resented the Church and wanted to be difficult.

Instead of being satisfied with the fact that his parish noted in the records that he had renounced his baptism, he wanted to be a jerk and make a demand that he knew could not be granted, giving him a pretext to take the Church to court.

 

A Case Resolved

Whatever his motives, he ultimately lost. In 2014, the French Supreme Court ruled against LeBouvier, which is as it should be.

It’s a simple matter of historical fact that LeBouvier was baptized. That’s true regardless of what the effects of baptism are, and as an unbeliever, LeBouvier presumably wouldn’t even believe in the indelible mark it left on his soul.

It’s just true that — on a certain date — he was baptized in a certain parish, and there can be records of that fact occurring, just like there can be records of any other historical event taking place. Shy of having a flux capacitor-equipped DeLorean, there’s no way to go back in time and undo the event.

Just as the state can keep records of things that happened — like marriages — even if their effects are regarded as now neutralized (or not, from a religious perspective), so can the Church.

 

The Effect of a Document

There is a reason that people like LeBouvier might not be satisfied with the Church simply noting in the baptismal records that they no longer consider themselves Christian.

When people get a divorce, they get a court decree — a piece of paper that says they’re no longer legally married — and even though the state hasn’t gone back and erased all records of their marriage, the decree seems to satisfy them.

But the Church doesn’t have an equivalent of this when someone abandons the Faith.

The 1983 Code of Canon Law did envision the possibility of someone defecting from the Church “by a formal act.” This had certain canonical effects, such as no longer being required to have a Catholic wedding.

 

Defections and the German Kirchensteuer

But the German church tax system (Kirchensteuer) complicated matters. Under this system, the German government automatically takes a portion of an individual’s income and gives it to the church they are a member of.

Consequently, some Germans began defecting from the Church and claiming they no longer needed to pay the tax.

Apparently in response to the German situation, the Pontifical Council for Legislative Texts in 2006 instituted a cumbersome process that made it harder to formally defect. The process involved things like meeting personally with your bishop and convincing him that you really, most sincerely, did not consider yourself a Catholic anymore.

Unsatisfied with the results of this, in 2009 Pope Benedict XVI decided to eliminate the concept of formal defection from canon law entirely.

This had serious unintended consequences, as it meant that people who had been baptized but not raised Catholic — many of whom might not even know that they had been baptized — were now legally unable to contract valid marriages (because of the obligation to observe “canonical form”) and were condemned to the state of perpetual, objective fornication.

To my mind, the cure was worse than the disease caused by the German tax situation, but it meant that one no longer even got a letter from one’s bishop saying that he believed you no longer regarded yourself as Catholic.

 

Looking to the Future

As the secularization of Europe progresses, it remains to be seen whether future Church leaders will deem it appropriate to create a document certifying that “We recognize that you no longer consider yourself or wish to live as a Catholic.”

Hopefully, such a document will not be needed — and God forbid that anyone should want one.

But while the French courts ruled against LeBouvier, we can’t count on this remaining the case in the future.

Anti-Catholic and anti-Christian animus continues to spread in the legal system, and just as there are cantankerous litigants who may just want to “stick it to the Church,” there may be cantankerous judges who wish to do the same thing.

To head off the legal collision that could result from activist judges demanding that the Church mutilate its baptismal records, it could one day be prudent to create a way of formally acknowledging the sad reality of people who no longer consider themselves Christian.

Once a Catholic, Always a Catholic?

There’s an old saying, “Once a Catholic; always a Catholic,” but what does this mean?

It could be taken to mean that a person raised in a devout Catholic family and culture will always carry aspects of this heritage, even if he stops practicing his faith.

For example, in Ireland there are accounts of people being asked whether they’re Catholic or Protestant, and when they reply, “I’m an atheist,” the response is, “Yes, but are you a Catholic atheist or a Protestant atheist?”

While the saying could be understood in terms of the culture one belongs to, it is often understood another way—that it’s literally impossible to stop being a Catholic even if you renounce the Faith and adopt another.

Is this true?

The matter is more complex than you might think.

 

Mystici Corporis

In 1943, Bl. Pius XII released the encyclical Mystici Corporis, in which he articulated membership in the Catholic Church this way:

Actually only those are to be included as members of the Church who have been baptized and profess the true faith, and who have not been so unfortunate as to separate themselves from the unity of the body, or been excluded by legitimate authority for grave faults committed (n. 22).

This created a bright line between “members” of the Church and others, and for membership it was required that one had not “separated themselves from the unity of the body” nor have been “excluded by legitimate authority for grave faults committed.”

This directly contradicts a literal interpretation of “Once a Catholic, always a Catholic.”

If you can separate yourself from unity or if legitimate authorities can exclude you for grave faults so that you no longer qualify as a “member” of the Church, then you can obviously cease to be Catholic.

You would still carry the indelible marks on your soul of baptism and confirmation (CCC 1280, 1317), but you would no longer be a member of the Church and thus not a Catholic.

 

Lumen Gentium

In its 1964 constitution Lumen Gentium, the Second Vatican Council took a different approach. Instead of speaking in terms of membership, it spoke of “full incorporation” and said:

They are fully incorporated in the society of the Church who, possessing the Spirit of Christ accept her entire system and all the means of salvation given to her, and are united with her as part of her visible bodily structure and through her with Christ, who rules her through the supreme pontiff and the bishops.

The bonds which bind men to the Church in a visible way are profession of faith, the sacraments, and ecclesiastical government and communion.

He is not saved, however, who, though part of the body of the Church, does not persevere in charity.

He remains indeed in the bosom of the Church, but, as it were, only in a “bodily” manner and not “in his heart” (n. 14).

The Council also stated that catechumens are already “joined” with the Church (n. 14), that baptized non-Catholics are “linked” with the Church (n. 15), and that the unevangelized are “related in various ways to the people of God” (n. 16).

Lumen Gentium thus articulates multiple ways in which one can be linked to the Church. If you have all the links (including the virtue of charity that corresponds to the state of grace), then you are said to be “fully incorporated.”

This is another way of covering the same basic ground that Pius XII did, for he also acknowledged a variety of things that linked one to the Church.

However, Lumen Gentium does not identify a particular set of conditions needed to be met for “membership” and prefers to put the accent on degrees of incorporation and linkage.

As a result, in the post-Conciliar era, magisterial documents have tended to speak in terms of degrees of communion with the Church rather than membership, with those who have committed offenses like heresy, apostasy, and schism not being in “full communion” with the Church.

 

Heresy, Apostasy, and Schism

According to the 1983 Code of Canon Law:

Heresy is the obstinate denial or obstinate doubt after the reception of baptism of some truth which is to be believed by divine and Catholic faith; apostasy is the total repudiation of the Christian faith; schism is the refusal of submission to the Supreme Pontiff or of communion with the members of the Church subject to him (can. 751).

Anyone committing these offenses would gravely injure their status with respect to the Church and certainly would no longer be in full communion.

But would they cease to be Catholic?

Certainly, the person himself might no longer identify as a Catholic. For example, if a person decided to reject the dogmas that the Church has defined and joined a Protestant church, he would no longer consider himself a Catholic but a Protestant.

Ceasing to identify as a Catholic would be even more obvious in the case of an apostate, for to commit that one must entirely renounce Christianity and be willing to say, “I am no longer a Christian.”

Some schismatics might no longer identify as Catholic (e.g., someone who joined an Orthodox church), but others might still claim to be Catholic (e.g., sedevacantists).

Would they still be Catholics from “the Church’s perspective”? The answer is not clear.

Under the membership definition articulated by Pius XII, the answer would be no, for they would have “separate[d] themselves from the unity of the body.”

On the analysis used following Vatican II, they would not be fully incorporated, but the Council did not provide a precise definition of who is and is not a Catholic.

On either analysis, it would not be possible to say, “The Church teaches you’re still a Catholic.”

At best, that would be an opinion, but it would not be Church teaching.

 

Baptism, Reception, and Ecclesiastical Law

Is there anything that would allow us to think of a former member of the Church as still “a Catholic”?

It would not be the indelible marks of baptism and confirmation, for people who have never been Catholic have those (e.g., Protestants are baptized and Orthodox are both baptized and confirmed/chrismated).

However, there is one thing that might allow us to think of an ex-Catholic as in some sense a Catholic. According to the 1983 Code of Canon Law:

Merely ecclesiastical laws bind those who have been baptized in the Catholic Church or received into it, possess the sufficient use of reason, and, unless the law expressly provides otherwise, have completed seven years of age (can. 11).

According to this canon, “merely ecclesiastical laws” (that is, laws created by Church authority) bind those who been baptized or received into the Church—provided they are 7 years old and have the use of reason.

There are no exceptions to this. There used to be a possible exception, but it has since been eliminated. So, even if a person leaves the Church, Catholic canon law still applies to him.

And if someone is subject to Catholic law, one might in some sense consider him still a Catholic.

 

Conclusion

However, this is a slim reed on which to base a literal interpretation of “Once a Catholic, always a Catholic.”

In the first place, canon 11 is itself a merely ecclesiastical law and could be altered (e.g., to include a new qualifier like “. . . unless they have committed heresy, apostasy, or schism”).

More fundamentally, as we’ve seen, the Church after Vatican II does not say an ex-Catholic is still a Catholic, and if we apply the analysis provided by Pius XII, an ex-Catholic (as opposed to a merely inactive Catholic) would not still be a member of the Church.

We thus should be on our guard against interpreting “Once a Catholic” in a literal way.

Crime and Punishment: Sweeping Changes to Church Law

Tuesday the Holy See announced a major revision to the Code of Canon Law. The entirety of Book VI of the Code, which deals with how the Church punishes offenses against canon law, has been replaced.

This marks the culmination of a project that has been underway for fourteen years. The revision was commissioned by Pope Benedict XVI in 2007, and Pope Francis has announced that it will go into effect on December 8th.

After it initially appeared in the 1983 Code, the original Book VI came to be seen as ineffective, and the revision is meant to tighten Church discipline, including how it handles cases of sexual abuse.

 

Reasons for Revision

The revision was needed because the canons dealing with how offenses are punished—the Church’s penal law—had been drafted in the 1970s, when the uncertainty that followed the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965) was at its peak.

Both within the Church and in broader society, there was a shift away from historical sensibilities regarding the punishment of crimes, with new, looser standards being applied.

Some even questioned whether the Church should retain a system of punishments in canon law.

While the Code did contain a section on penal law, punishment generally was viewed as a last resort—something that bishops should only employ with great reluctance. Instead, they should deal with erring members of their flock with “the medicine of mercy.”

 

Justice and Mercy

It has always been difficult to strike the right balance between justice and mercy, but in the 1970s, the lever had been pushed far toward mercy. The new revision of Book VI seeks to restore the balance between the two concepts.

Despite the fact that justice is a cardinal virtue, many churchmen came to see their role exclusively as ministers of mercy. They therefore lost sight of the need to maintain proper order in the Church.

In his new apostolic constitution, Pascite Gregem Dei (“To Feed the Flock of God”), Pope Francis writes:

In the past, the lack of perception of the intimate relationship existing in the Church between the exercise of charity and the recourse . . . to sanctioning discipline has caused much damage. This way of thinking—experience teaches us—runs the risk of leading to behaviors contrary to the discipline of morals, for whose remedy only exhortations or suggestions are not enough.

This situation often carries with it the danger that, with the passage of time, such behaviors become consolidated to the point of making it more difficult to correct and in many cases creating scandal and confusion among the faithful. This is why the application of penalties becomes necessary on the part of pastors and superiors.

In other words, if you don’t apply penalties in a timely manner, it will make the problem worse. True charity involves correcting problems before they become crises.

In light of recent history, it is only too easy to imagine how different things would be if bishops had taken early and effective steps to deal with problems like predatory sexual behavior by priests, liturgical abuses, and the advocacy of abortion and other violations of Church teaching.

 

Discretion or Lack of Guidance?

Because of the environment in which it was written, the original Book VI phrased many things vaguely and left a great deal up to the discretion of bishops.

This could be seen as a show of support for bishops—an expression of confidence that they would do the right thing in concrete circumstances—but the practical result was that it left them without needed guidance.

At various points, the original Book VI indicated that a bishop could punish an offense, but it did not require him to do so. Human nature being what it is, that led many not to act against an offender, lest they be perceived as harsh and uncharitable.

Similarly, many provisions simply said that an offender was to be punished with “a just penalty,” but it didn’t provide bishops with that much concrete guidance as to what such a penalty might be.

The new revision addresses both of these problems. At various points it indicates that a bishop must act when a particular offense has been committed, and it contains a new and expanded list of potential penalties that a bishop may impose (can. 1336). The list includes new penalties, such as paying monetary fines and having their pay suspended.

The revision also contains a new provision, right at the beginning of the book, to orient bishops on the attitude they need to take:

The one who is at the head of a church must safeguard and promote the good of the community itself . . . if necessary, also through the imposition or declaration of penalties, in accordance with the provisions of the law, which are always to be applied with canonical equity and having in mind the restoration of justice, the reform of the offender, and the repair of scandal (can. 1311 §2).

 

Consolidation, Addition, Reorganization

The new law also consolidates provisions dating back as far as the reign of John Paul II that had not previously been part of the Code. These include laws against attempting to ordain women and recording confessions.

It includes new penalties, such as suspending from office those who deliberately administer the sacraments to those prohibited from receiving them (can. 1379 §4)—a provision that could have direct bearing on the situation in Germany, where some priests have publicly stated that they will not enforce the Church’s law regarding when Protestants are allowed to receive holy Communion.

The revision also reorganizes many of the existing penalties, placing them into more appropriate categories.

A key example is the provision dealing with clerics who commit sexual offenses with minors. Previously, this was part of the section dealing with offenses “against special obligations.”

Now it is part of the section dealing with offenses “against human life, dignity, and liberty”—making clear that sexual abuse is an offense against the dignity of the victim, not simply a violation of the priest’s obligations.

 

Sexual Abuse

The parts of the revision that have received the most attention in the secular press are its provisions dealing with sexual abuse.

Although sexual misconduct on the part of priests is dealt with in several canons, the part dealing with the abuse of minors is in canon 1398, and it has been dramatically expanded.

Previously, the provision only applied to sexual offenses committed with a minor under the age of 16. Now it applies to all minors. In addition, it applies to an offense committed with a person “who habitually has an imperfect use of reason,” such as those who have serious mental handicaps or illnesses, even if they are adults.

Before the release of the revision, many wondered if it would also include “vulnerable persons”—a term often used in protective services literature.

However, the meaning of this term is still being worked out. It would seem to apply in situations where a bishop takes advantage of the seminarians under his care (who depend on him for ordination) or when a pastor takes advantage of a parish employee (who depends on him for a living). But other situations are not as clear, and there are degrees of vulnerability.

As a result, the new law doesn’t use the term “vulnerable person.” Instead, it refers to those “to whom the law recognizes equal protection” as minors and those habitually lacking the use of reason.

This allows the law to adapt as the legal concept of “vulnerable person” is worked out. In the future, given classes of people (e.g., seminarians, parish employees) can be declared to have equal protection.

Canon 1398 deals with more than the commission of sexual acts. It includes provisions against grooming protected people, inducing them to expose themselves pornographically, and acquiring, retaining, or exhibiting pornographic images of protected persons.

Finally, the canon does not treat this as simply a problem committed by priests. It now applies the same principles to members of religious orders and lay faithful who have any official function in the Church.

The new law thus goes a long way in codifying the policies that have been developed and the lessons on sexual abuse that have been learned with so much difficulty in the last two decades.

Motivation to Say the Liturgy of the Hours

Someone writes:

What advice would you give to a priest that had trouble staying loyal to the liturgy of the hours–especially if they have trouble finding them fruitful or just a checklist thing to do?

I’d have several pieces of advice:

 

1) We all go through periods of spiritual dryness in which particular activities do not seem fruitful to us and more like a checklist.

Do not worry about this. Accomplishing our duties even when they do not seem personally rewarding actually increases the merit of doing them, as it is persevering in spite of difficulty.

This represents the principle that God uses to bring good out of adversity, the supreme example of which is Christ’s redemption for the world from the Cross. However, the same principle is at work in our lives when we do what we should in spite of the difficulties. It applies to praying even when our emotions run in another direction, and it thus applies to praying the Liturgy of the Hours specifically.

 

2) In terms of making the Liturgy of the Hours feel more relevant, it can be helpful to remember that it is not done principally for the one praying it. It is principally for God and for his Church. This is why it is a work of liturgy (Greek, leitourgia = “a work done on behalf of the people”) rather than a private devotion.

It is thus in the same category as saying Mass, and it may be helpful to think of it in that way. Tell yourself, “I’m going to say the Liturgy of the Hours now, just like I say Mass–to praise God and pray on behalf of his people. This isn’t for me. It’s for love of God and love of neighbor. I’m doing it, no matter what my emotions may be, because I love them both.”

 

3) One reason that saying the Liturgy of the Hours may feel different than saying Mass is that it is often done alone.

This can be changed. One can start a small group to pray the hours together–a group consisting of priests, deacons, laity, or a mix of some of each of them. This even can be done via online meeting (e.g., Skype, Zoom).

Having a scheduled time or set of times where one will be meeting with other people can be very effective in helping one fulfill a schedule. It is easy to let things slip if they depend only on us, but if they are done with others, we are much better about accomplishing them.

If it’s not possible to have a group pray all of the different hours, it is possible to cover at least some of them this way (e.g., morning and evening prayer, and perhaps others.)

Also, involving a group of people can help bring out on an emotional level the fact that this isn’t just for us. It really does involve Christ’s Church in a broader way.

 

4) If one must say the Liturgy of the Hours alone, it may be helpful to employ an electronic aid, such as text-to-speech or a human voice recording.

If one has an electronic copy of the Liturgy, one may use a text-to-speech function to read the text aloud.

Alternately, one might use a recorded version of the Liturgy, such as Praystation Portable.

These may not be traditional solutions, but technology has now made them possible, and there is nothing illicit about using them.

I, personally, find both text-to-speech and voice recordings (audio books) very helpful when getting through texts, and there is no reason that the principle cannot be applied in this area for those who find it useful.

In fact, millions of people already listen to recordings of private devotions like the Rosary and the Divine Mercy Chaplet as prayer aids.

I hope this helps, and God bless you!

OCD, Therapy, and Promises

A reader writes:

Mr. Akin,

Thanks for the OCD articles you’ve posted. Your one on promises has been a site I’ve read and re-read many times as a comfort to know I’m not alone.

In your estimation, is it OK for one working through an exposure technique to purposely think, “No matter what I think, including ‘I promise,’ I’m going to ignore it and move on”?

In my case, when I thought “I promise”, I was thinking it as if directing it to God, as you would in prayer. I immediately regretted it . . . and in fact have replayed it in my head over and over to try to comfort myself, and worry I may have double-downed on my promise.

My worry being that it wasn’t a compulsion I could blame it on, but a conscious thought. I usually take a thought of “I promise” as meaning I need to give up things I enjoy for a day (coffee, etc.). And then the days compound.

Thanks for all the help; it really is comforting.

Thank you for writing. I believe I can be of help.

 

Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder and Its Treatment

For those who may not be aware, one of the most promising treatments for Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder involves cognitive behavior therapy and, specifically, exposure and response prevention therapy.

In this treatment, a person with OCD is exposed to situations that can trigger his obsessive thoughts and then refrain from engaging in the compulsive behavior ritual that he normally uses to relieve the stress they cause.

He thus learns by experience that he doesn’t need to perform the compulsive rituals in order to deal with the thoughts that flit across his mind, and the OCD condition lessens over time.

While this therapy involves some initial stress, it has proved effective for many patients and is considered one of the best therapies for this condition.

 

Promises to God

In this situation, the reader has OCD that is manifesting in thoughts about making promises to God and then being bound by them.

This is a common manifestation among religious OCD sufferers.

When this occurs, the person feels compelled to make promises to God that will inconvenience him to a greater or lesser degree, but which he feels obligated to keep.

The fact that these are inconvenient promises is the point: The OCD wants the person to be inconvenienced, since it is the inconvenience—and the fear of disobeying God—that is the cause of the anxiety that the condition wants.

But are such promises binding?

 

The Answer Is No

Such promises are not binding because they (1) are not rational, (2) are made under the duress of anxiety, (3) are not fully human acts, and (4) are the product of a disordered thought process and disease that needs to be fought.

For all these reasons, they do not bind.

However, OCD sufferers can have a fear that a particular promise might have been voluntary, and so it might bind. The same anxiety thus emerges in a new form: fear that a particular promise might bind, and the cycle starts again.

The solution is this: It doesn’t matter what degree of voluntariness a particular promise had. It’s still part of an overall disease process that needs to be thought. Ignore it anyway.

 

Promises to a Friend

To see why, suppose you live far away from any body of water and have no interest in boating.

Then, one day, a friend who you know has OCD comes to you and says, “Guess what! I’ve had an obsessive-compulsive impulse that I need to buy you a luxury yacht! I’m not sure how voluntary this thought was, so I’m afraid it might be binding. Therefore, I promise to sell my house, pull all the money out of my bank account, liquidate my retirement savings, and buy you a luxury yacht!”

What would your response be? Would you consider him bound to keep this possibly voluntary promise he has made to you?

Of course not! You would tell him, “Hey! Slow your roll! I have no need for a luxury yacht. I don’t care whether this thought was voluntary or not. You need to fight your OCD. I do not want you to hurt yourself by giving in to your OCD. Do not sell your house. Do not pull all the money out of your bank account. Do not liquidate your retirement savings. And do not consider yourself bound by this promise. In fact, do the opposite: Fight your OCD and ignore this promise for your own good. Don’t feed the OCD! The path to getting better involves ignoring promises like this!”

That’s what a good friend would say!

 

What a Friend We Have in Jesus

Well, Jesus is an even better friend than the human ones we have here on Earth, so he’s going to tell us exactly the same thing.

As Jesus himself said:

What man of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him! (Matt. 7:9-11)

God is better than any earthly father, and so this principle applies here. As in the case of the friend, no earthly father, knowing that his son had OCD, would want his son to honor obsessive-compulsive promises he had made to do things for him, even if the son thought a particular thought might have been voluntary. He would want his son to ignore them and so get relief from his OCD.

For a promise to bind, it not only has to be made, it also has to be accepted. No friend would accept such promises as binding. No earthly father would. And neither does God.

Just because a person has compulsively tried to promise something to God doesn’t mean God considers that promise binding.

God has no needs, which means that he doesn’t need anything we might promise him. Further, he loves us, which means that he’s not going to hold us to promises made due to the effects of a disordered medical condition that needs to be resisted.

God knows that, if OCD suffers allow themselves to play the “Maybe that thought was voluntary”-game, it will only keep them trapped in their OCD.

The Great Physician wants us to be healed, including of OCD, and the path to healing is to ignore such obsessive-compulsive promises, even if we think one might have been partly voluntary.

Therefore, whether it’s part of exposure and response prevention therapy—or not—God wants OCD sufferers to ignore such promises.

So that’s what they should do.