Category: Canon Law
How Magisterial Was Last Week’s Vatican Finance Document?
As we saw previously, many commentators—including George Weigel, Fr. John Zuhlsdorf, and Mark Brumley—were quick to point out that the “note” released by the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace on world finance should not be understood as a magisterial act which the faithful were bound to accept with religious submission of intellect and will. At least not as a whole (it did, however, contain quotations from prior documents of a magisterial nature).
From what the average person could tell from the way the document was reported by some in the mainstream media, though, the document was fully back by the teaching authority of the pope himself.
Other than the fact that the press usually gets this kind of thing wrong and thoughtful commentators like those mentioned above are much more reliable, how can the ordinary person tell which is right? How can we determine what represents the authoritative teaching of the Church and what does not?
A full treatment of the overall subject goes beyond what can be done in a blog post. (Indeed, entire books and graduate level courses are devoted to the subject.) But here are a few pointers that may help.
1) The Church’s Magisterium, or teaching authority, is vested in the bishops teaching in communion with the pope.
2) Each individual bishop can engage this teaching authority in a limited way that is authoritative for his own subjects.
3) Bishops may also collaborate in the exercise of their teaching authority. This happens most dramatically in the case of an ecumenical council, but it can happen in other ways, such as certain acts of national conferences of bishops. In these cases the exercise of their Magisterium is authoritative for a broader audience (as in the case of a conference of bishops or a local council) or, depending on the situation, even universally (as in the case of an ecumenical council).
4) Canon law has regulations governing these collaborative exercises of the Magisterium. Among the factors we must look to in assessing the doctrinal authority of a particular document is the applicable canon law.
5) The Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace, as we saw in the prior post, is a dicastery (department) of the Roman Curia, whose fundamental legal framework is provide in the apostolic constitution Pastor Bonus (Latin, Good Shepherd). According to this document,
Art. 1 — The Roman Curia is the complex of dicasteries and institutes which help the Roman Pontiff in the exercise of his supreme pastoral office for the good and service of the whole Church and of the particular Churches. It thus strengthens the unity of the faith and the communion of the people of God and promotes the mission proper to the Church in the world.
The different dicasteries and institutes of the curia are thus said to “help” the pope in his pastoral duties. These duties do include exercising the Church’s teaching authority, but they also include many other things. The fact that a dicastery is part of the curia does not automatically mean that it is expected to exercise the Church’st teaching authority. For example, the Prefecture for the Economic Affairs of the Holy See, the Administration of the Patrimony of the Apostolic See, the Pontifical Council for Culture, and the Pontifical Council for the Interpretation of Legislative Texts would be clear cases of dicasteries that would not normally issue magisterial acts.
6) If the mere fact that a dicastery is part of the Roman Curia doesn’t guarantee that its documents exercise the Magisterium, what might? A logical next place to look would be to the charter that a specific dicastery is given in Pastor Bonus. In the case of the PCJP, here is what Pastor Bonus says:
Art. 142 — The goal of the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace is to promote justice and peace in the world in accordance with the Gospel and the social teaching of the Church.
Art. 143 — § 1. The Council makes a thorough study of the social teaching of the Church and ensures that this teaching is widely spread and put into practice among people and communities, especially regarding the relations between workers and management, relations that must come to be more and more imbued with the spirit of the Gospel.
§ 2. It collects information and research on justice and peace, about human development and violations of human rights; it ponders all this, and, when appropriate, shares its conclusions with the groupings of bishops. It cultivates relationships with Catholic international organizations and other institutions, even ones outside the Catholic Church, which sincerely strive to achieve peace and justice in the world.
§ 3. It works to form among peoples a mentality which fosters peace, especially on the occasion of World Peace Day.
Art. 144 — The Council has a special relationship with the Secretariat of State, especially whenever matters of peace and justice have to be dealt with in public by documents or announcements.
I’ve highlighted certain phrases here that describe the more relevant activities of the PCJP. None of them indicate that the PCJP is authorized, in normal circumstances, to issue doctrinally binding statements. The Council is said to study the Church’s social teaching, but studying teaching and issuing teaching are two different things. Pastor Bonus would seem to be constituting the PCJP as a study body, one that is intended to analyze and reflect upon what the Magisterium has already authoritatively taught and to see how it might be applied to particular areas, based on the information and research that the body gathers. After reflecting on all this (”pondering” it), the PCJP may than share its conclusions with the bishops, who (although this is unstated) might choose to incorporate some of the PCJP’s findings in their own exercise of the Magisterium.
The PCJP thus might be expected to play an indirect role in the development of doctrine, but under normal circumstances it would not seem to be envisioned as a dicastery that exercises the Magisterium directly.
7) What might intervene to give a particular PCJP document magisterial character? Well, the pope can do what seems best to him, and hypothetically he could intervene in a particular case to lend his own authority to a document. This happens, in a particular way, when the pope approves of a document in forma specifica (“in specific form”), though there is also the lesser form of papal approval in forma generalis (“in general form”).
Such notes of papal approval are often attached to documents issued by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, for example (a body that much more regularly issues documents of a magisterial character), but there is no such approval attached to the PCJP note. (Presumably the PCJP ran the note past the Secretariate of State, per Pastor Bonus art. 144, but that doesn’t give it magisterial character, either.)
In view of the foregoing, it would appear that the PCJP note does not itself represent an act of the Magisterium.
Are there any other indications that might confirm this?
8) One is the fact that the document is characterized as a “note.” This is a fairly low-level term when it comes to indicating authority. A more powerful term—which is found on more authoritative curial documents—would be “instruction.”
9) At the press conference presenting the note, the head men of the PCJP both use language indicating that the document was not itself an authoritative teaching instrument. As Weigel comments:
Cardinal Peter Turkson, president of the council, said that the document was intended to “make a contribution which might be useful to the deliberations of the [upcoming] G-20 meeting.” Bishop Mario Toso, S.D.B., the secretary of the council, was just as subjunctive as his superior, saying that the document was intended to “suggest possible paths to follow.” Both Cardinal Turkson and Bishop Toso indicated, in line with long-standing Catholic social doctrine, that the Church-as-Church was incompetent to offer “technical solutions” but rather wished to locate public policy debates within the proper moral frameworks.
It seems that commentators like Weigel, Zuhlsdorf, and Brumley are on safe ground, then, in saying that the PCJP note does not represent an exercise of the Church’s teaching authority. At least the document as a whole does not. As we’ve mentioned, though, it does contain quotations from prior documents that are magisterial, such as Pope Benedict’s encyclical Caritas in Veritate, and since the authority of those quotations is independent of this document, they retain whatever doctrinal force the pope invested them with in the original.
There is also the fact that, though the PCJP note does not carry magisterial authority itself, it is a product of a council of the Roman Curia, and Pope Benedict himself chose the men who run it, which must count as something of a vote of confidence in them.
That’s something to think about as one reads the document and tries to assess how much it may provide “a contribution which might be useful” and “possible paths to follow.”
DEBATE: Is Fr. Bourgeois Right on Women Priests?
At the time I did my previous post on Fr. Roy Bourgeois, I did not have access to the letter to his religious superiors in which he was said to make five argument for women priests. I would like to thank those who were able to find it and send me a link. It can be found in its entirety here.
In this post I would like to look at the arguments proposed by Fr. Bourgeois and see whether they are sound. I will offer each of his arguments, in his own words, and then respond to it so that this post takes the form of what you might call a literary debate.
Let us begin.
(1) As Catholics, we believe that we were created in the image and likeness of God and that men and women are equal before God. Excluding women from the priesthood implies that men are superior to women.
It is true that men and women are created in the image and likeness of God. It is also true that there are many senses in which men and women are equal before him. They are equally dependent on his grace. They have equal access to salvation. He loves them equally. He has endowed them with equal dignity. He had endowed them with equal responsibility and will hold them equally accountable. And in a generic and ultimate perspective they may validly be said to be equal before him.
This does not mean that they are homogenous in all respects, however. It is clear that there are differences between the sexes that are rooted in nature and that are not simply the product of nurture. Though the feminist movement has long tried to portray many gender differences traditionally regarded as innate as being merely the product of culture, numerous recent scientific studies, as well as common sense and the common experience of mankind, have shown that they are, in fact, innate. Even many in the feminist movement now admit this.
Some innate gender differences are virtually too obvious to be rationally denied by anyone. To begin with overt physical differences, men are, on average, taller and weigh more than women. They are physically stronger, particularly in the upper body. They grow facial hair. Women are on average smaller and lighter. They have less physical strength, particularly in the upper body. And they grow functional breasts. Moving to somewhat less obvious but still statistically demonstrable sex differences, women have longer life spans (which, to my mind, means they get the long end of the stick in an extremely important way that I am personally envious of). Women also have greater verbal intelligence. Men have greater spatial intelligence. There are also emotional differences. Women tend to be more nurturing. Men tend to be more willing to assume greater risk.
While many of these differences are statistical in nature (i.e., they are true of the genders on average, though they may not be true of a specific man or a specific woman; thus some women are taller than some men, some men live longer than some women), there are some sex differences that are absolute. For example: Only men can be fathers; only women can be mothers. There are no male mothers and no female fathers—not in the literal sense of these terms.
The fact that there are innate sex differences in humans means that one cannot reduce the question of ordination to the priesthood to the question of equality before God. While the sexes do have equality before God (certainly in the general and ultimate sense), the specific differences between them mean that they are—statistically or absolutely—more suited to certain roles. Statistically, men are better protectors by virtue of their strength and risk tolerance; women are better providers of childcare by virtue of their nurturing capacity and ability to nurse. Absolutely: Men are better fathers; women are better mothers.
The Catholic Church proposes that God has chosen to only authorize the ordination of men to the priesthood. Why he may have chosen this is a matter of speculative theology on which the Church has not pronounced (certainly not definitively). It may be that the priesthood displays a form of fatherhood that makes the male gender absolutely suited for it in a way women are not. It may be that the male gender displays certain characteristics that, statistically rather than absolutely, make men better suited to the priesthood and God has chosen them due to this fact. These are matters of theological speculation, however.
What is clear is that one cannot simplistically posit male/female equality as an argument that women should be ordained to the priesthood. Equality before God does not mean absolute identicality between the sexes, and if it does not mean that then it does not mean possessing identical functions in all situations—ecclesiastical or otherwise. It thus does not follow that saying God has chosen only men for the priesthood implies that men are superior—any more than it implies that God has chosen certain men for the priesthood means that these men are superior to other men. We each have our own gifts and callings, and these are not identical.
Thus this argument is inadequate. It does not prove what it attempts to.
(2) Catholic priests say that the call to be a priest is a gift and comes from God. How can we, as men, say: “Our call from God is authentic, but your call, as women, is not”? Who are we to reject God’s call of women to the priesthood? I believe our Creator who is the Source of life and called forth the sun and stars is certainly capable of calling women to be priests.
In my previous post I responded to Fr. Bourgeois’ statement regarding God as the one “who is the Source of life and called forth the sun and stars” being able to call women to the priesthood. As I pointed out there, this is fatuous grandstanding. We all acknowledge that God is omnipotent and can do whatever he chooses. But asserting that he is able to make a particular choice does not provide evidence that he has made a particular choice. As we noted then, God can make pink unicorns with sparkly eyes and rainbow manes, but if you want to claim that he has done this, you need to produce evidence for the claim, not merely assert God’s ability to do it.
Turning to the first part of Bourgeois’ second argument, it is clear that this is overly facile reasoning. This will be clear if we simply change the context of the argument, from being why men rather than women should be ordained to the priesthood to why certain men rather than other men should be ordained. Making the necessary substitutions, what would we make of an argument that says:
How can we, as certain men, say: “Our call from God is authentic, but your call, as other men, is not”? Who are we to reject God’s call of other men to the priesthood?
Unless we are prepared to accept that God has called all men without exception to the priesthood then we must be prepared to accept that he has called some and not others. Given that some men are manifestly not qualified to serve in this role (e.g., pedophiles—just to name an obvious and incontrovertible example), it would appear that his choice is rational. But if God may rationally choose between one group and another in whom he calls to priestly ministry then one cannot rely on an argument of the form Bourgeois has presented. It may identify women as a particular class and ask how it is that God might not choose them for the priesthood, just as he does not choose many men (myself included), but the appeal to pity that Bourgeois proposes (“How can we, as X, say that our call is authentic but yours, as Y, is not?”—in other words: “Have pity on Y; they are no different than we as X”) does not provide any reasons why women should be regarded as a class indistinguishable from men—or from called men. Once again, Bourgeois has failed to provide evidence for why these two groups should be treated as the same in terms of ordination.
It also should be noted that his reference to the priesthood being a divine gift actually undermines his case since, as we saw in my previous post, the gratuity of a divine gift implies that no one has a right to the priesthood and thus no one can claim injustice if they are not called to it.
(3) We are told that women cannot be priests because Jesus chose only men as apostles. As we know, Jesus did not ordain anyone. Jesus also chose a woman, Mary Magdalene, to be the first witness to His resurrection, which is at the core of our faith. Mary Magdalene became known as “the apostle to the apostles.”
Here Bourgeois finally engages the Church’s actual position regarding women’s ordination. As we saw in my previous post (and please do check it out for more detail), the Church recognizes that Christ chose only men to be his apostles and feels bound to follow this decision of her Lord and God today in the selection of ordained ministers.
Bourgeois offers three rejoinders to this argument, each of which is quite weak:
a) “As we know, Jesus did not ordain anyone.”
We know nothing of the kind. If by “ordination” you mean “sacramental laying on of hands for purposes of placing one in the priesthood” then we have no mention one way or another of whether Jesus did this. As the gospels themselves record (John 21:25), Jesus did many things that are not recorded in them. One of them might have been such an ordination-by-laying-on-of-hands ceremony.
If such a ceremony never occurred, however, this deals only with the means by which Jesus conducted ordination (the placing of an individual in a specific ordo or order of ministerial service). He most definitely did ordain, through hands or another means, his apostles to service as priests. This is, in fact, an infallibly defined dogma. The Council of Trent defines that by telling the apostles to “do this [the Eucharist] in memory of me” he thereby commissioned them to function as priests. This commission entails an ordination, whether it was performed that minute by his words alone or subsequently by the imposition of his hands.
b) “Jesus also chose a woman, Mary Magdalene, to be the first witness to His resurrection, which is at the core of our faith.”
It is noteworthy that Mary Magdalene was one of the first witnesses (not the first, as Bourgeois says, but one of a group) to Christ’s resurrection. This has notable apologetic value since women were not then considered to be trustworthy witnesses in court, yet the gospels record women as the first witnesses—contrary to what one would make up if one were fabricating the accounts. The extent to which Jesus “chose” Mary Magdalene and the other women (as opposed to allowing the action of their own free wills in this situation) is more open to discusion. However, no one has historically seen the role of Mary Magdalene as an indication that she served ordained ministry as a priest. Bourgeois is simply grasping at straws.
c) “Mary Magdalene became known as ‘the apostle to the apostles.’”
To the extent this terminology has been used for Mary Magdalene, it has always been understood in an analogous way. It has never been seriously entertained that Mary Magdalene was a literal apostle or an ordained priest. Women today may serve such analogous roles without implying literal ordination or a right thereto.
(4) A 1976 report by the PontificalBiblical Commission, the Vatican’s top Scripture scholars, concluded that there is no valid case to be made against the ordination of women from the Scriptures. In the Episcopal, Methodist, Lutheran, United Church of Christ, Presbyterian and other Christian churches, God’s call of women to the priesthood is affirmed and women are ordained. Why not in the Catholic church?
As we saw in my previous post, Bourgois is misrepresenting the document he mentions. A look at the full text of his letter only strengthens this appraisal. First, the Pontifical Biblical Commission does not represent “the Vatican’s top Scripture scholars.” It represents a number of biblical scholars, periodically chosen an rotated, who have a notable degree of esteem by the Holy See, but it does not, at any given moment, represent “the best of the best.” Second, the 1976 document in question was not an official document of the PBC. It was a draft document that was leaked to the press without authorization. It has no official status. Third, it did not conclude that “there is no valid case to be made against the ordination of women from the Scriptures.” Instead, it concluded that some scholars think there is such a case to be made from Scripture alone, some think that there is not, and that the drafters of the document in question think the question is hard to settle from Scripture alone. Bourgeois is thus grossly misrepresenting both the nature and the conclusions of the draft document.
Regarding the statement that women are ordained to the priesthood in various Protestant denominations, several responses may be in order:
a) If we wish to play a numbers game, the Protestant denominations in question represent less than a quarter of global Christendom. Why should the choices of such a minority be determinative for the majority?
b) Bourgeois seems to be misinformed regarding the practice of these groups. Most of them do not recognize the priesthood—or certainly not a sacramental priesthood—at all. So why should they be determinative of a question that involves an apples-to-oranges comparison?
c) They are non-Catholic groups and, whatever merits they may have, they cannot be regarded from a Catholic perspective as being guided by God in the same way that the Catholic Church is. Why should their ordination practices trump that of the Catholic Church, which is—from a Catholic perspective—fully guided by God in these matters?
As to Bourgeois’ query, “Why not in the Catholic church?” see the rest of this post and the previous one.
(5) The Holy Scriptures remind us in Galatians 3:28, “There is neither male nor female. In Christ Jesus you are one.” Furthermore, the Second Vatican Council’s Pastoral Constitution on The Church in the Modern World states: “Every type of discrimination … based on sex. .. is to be overcome and eradicated as contrary to God’s intent.”
Here Bourgeois demonstrably misrepresents both St. Paul and the Second Vatican Council.
While St. Paul may be fairly characterized as stressing the equality of men and women regarding their access to salvation, Christ’s love for them, etc., this cannot be construed as an endorsement of them playing identical roles in Church. This is made extremely clear from some of the things St. Paul says elsewhere in his writings, such as:
I permit no woman to teach or to have authority over men; she is to keep silent. For Adam was formed first, then Eve; and Adam was not deceived, but the woman was deceived and became a transgressor. Yet woman will be saved through bearing children, if she continues in faith and love and holiness, with modesty [1 Tim 2:12-15].
This passage has significant implications for the ability for women to assume the priesthood.
Even if one (wrongly to my mind) questions the Pauline authorship of 1 Timothy, the book is still part of inspired Scripture and cannot simply be set aside.
In any event, Paul’s other writings contain multiple references to men and women functioning differently in church, however equal they may be from the ultimate perspective before God. One cannot represent Paul’s “one in Christ” statement as an endorsement of women’s ordination.
Neither can one represent Vatican II’s condemnation of discrimination as such. Had the Council meant to endorse women’s ordination, it would have done so. The rejection of unjust discrimination—which is what we are talking about—does not entail the rejection of sexual differences or roles. It is not possible to give a serious reading to Vatican II and take it as endorsing women’s ordination.
The arguments used by Fr. Bourgeois thus come up lacking. If he proposes that the Church change its theology (which it can’t do, given that this is an infallible teaching) then the burden of proof is on him, and he has not presented any arguments that survive even a cursory examination.
Let us keep him, and all those he misleads, in prayer.
How Useful Is This Argument Against Sedevacantism?
Last 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?
Are YOU “Anathema”? How about Your Protestant Friend?
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).
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?
Women’s Head Coverings at Mass: Won’t Say I Told You So, But . . .
Some time ago I did a post (possibly more than one) dealing with the subject of women’s headcoverings at Mass—a practice that was required by the 1917 Code of Canon Law but that then fell into desuetude after the Second Vatican Council and was abolished by the release of the 1983 Code of Canon Law.
I have no problem with women wearing head coverings. In fact, I’m rather partial to the practice, and I fully support any woman’s right to wear one.
But I’m not going to falsify what the law requires concerning them.
My post was occasioned by queries I got from time to time about whether the former practice of women wearing some form of headcovering at Mass is still required.
Some of these queries were prompted by a maker of headcoverings who was trying to gin up business by running ads that quoted the old law as if it was still in effect.
Others, including canonist Dr. Edward Peters and Fr. John Zulhsdorf, also wrote on the subject, pointing out the same thing: The law requiring head coverings ceased no later than the release of the 1983 Code of Canon Law, which abrogated the prior law requiring this (found in the 1917 Code).
Yet that hasn’t stopped people from making spurious arguments to the contrary.
Now Ed Peters has a post in which (after noting Fr. Z’s and my replies and saying some extremely kind things about us) he reports Cardinal Raymond Burke has weighed in on the subject as well.
For those who may not be aware, Cardinal Burke is the prefect of the Supreme Tribunal of the Apostolic Signatura, which “functions as the supreme tribunal [in the Roman Curia] and also ensures that justice in the Church is correctly administered” (John Paul II, Pastor Bonus 121). That means: He heads the highest Church court.
In a letter to an inquirer, Cardinal Burke writes:
The wearing of a chapel veil for women is not required when women assist at the Holy Mass according to Ordinary Form of the Roman Rite. It is, however, the expectation that women who assist at the Mass according to the Extraordinary Form cover their heads, as was the practice at the time that the 1962 Missale Romanum was in force. It is not, however a sin to participate in the Holy Mass according to the Extraordinary Form without a veil.
Ed notes:
Burke’s note is not an “authentic interpretation” nor a formal sentence from the Signatura: It’s simply a calm observation by the world’s leading canonist (not to mention a man deeply in love with the Church and her liturgy) about whether women have to, as a matter of law or moral obligation, wear veils at Mass. Any Mass. And the answer is No.
I’d like to add a couple of remarks to Ed’s concerning Cardinal Burke’s reply. I think it is extraordinarily balanced and well phrased.
His first statement—that the use of chapel veils is not required when women assist at (i.e., attend) the ordinary form of the Mass—is quite true. The 1983 Code abolished the requirement established by the 1917 Code. That much is absolutely clear and straight forward. But what about the celebration of the extraordinary form of Mass according to the Missal of 1962 (i.e., the approved form of the traditional Latin Mass)? Here is where Cardinal Burke’s statement is remarkably well crafted.
He makes two points: First, it is “the expectation” that women attending this form of Mass will wear a head covering, but “it is not … a sin” to refrain from doing so.
Note that Cardinal Burke does not say that the use of a chapel veil is required under the 1962 Missal. This is because it wasn’t the 1962 Missal that contained the requirement. It was the 1917 Code of Canon Law, and that requirement has been abolished. Thus there is no clear legal obligation to do so. The degree to which an obligation that existed in 1962 but that is not mentioned in the Missal would be applicable to the celebration of the Mass according to this Missal today would be, at the least, debatable. According to the 1983 Code,
Can. 14 Laws, even invalidating and disqualifying ones, do not oblige when there is a doubt about the law.
Because of the debatability of such a requirement in the extraordinary form of the Mass today, the law concerning head coverings does not bind (at least until such time as we get further clarification from Rome on the matter).
Thus a woman attending the extraordinary form of the Mass could not be accused of violating the law, much less of sinning.
Nevertheless, it is clear that those who participate in the extraordinary form of the Mass are intending to celebrate it as it was celebrated in 1962, to the extent provided by present law, and that included head coverings. Those regularly celebrating this form of the Roman Rite thus have an expectation that head coverings will be used. Failure to use them could be cause for puzzlement, even if it is not legally required. And the expectation (without legal requirement) may extend higher up the hierarchical chain, though Cardinal Burke does not make this clear.
In any event, it strikes me that Cardinal Burke’s statement is exceptionally well crafted. It acknowledges the clear lack of legal requirement for the use of head coverings (at both the ordinary and extraordinary forms of Mass) while acknowledging the practical expectation but not-legally-required use of them at the extraordinary form of Mass, together with the non-sinfulness of their non-use.
It’s a difficult set of points to make in a short space, but Cardinal Burke’s statement navigates these difficulties well.
If only everyone were so careful on this issue.
What do you think?
When You *Don’t* Have to Say Something in Confession
Properly catechized Catholics know that, when we have committed mortal sins, we are obliged to confess them, how many times we committed them, and any circumstances that affect the moral species of the act (e.g., stealing from a church is different than ordinary stealing because of the element of sacrilege is involved, ditto for lying after having taken an oath before God as opposed to ordinary lying, adultery vs. fornication, etc. Note that these distinctions all involve the kind of sin being committed, not the degree of sinfulness; the Church has not required that we confess circumstances that affect the degree of sinfulness, only the kind).
Often times it is difficult for one reason or another to make this kind of confession, and if you read older moral and pastoral theology manuals they offer extensive discussions of the situations in which penitents are excused from making this type of confession.
Recently I received an email inquiry about how this fact relates to the 1983 Code of Canon Law’s statement that:
Can. 960 Individual and integral confession and absolution constitute the only ordinary means by which a member of the faithful conscious of grave sin is reconciled with God and the Church. Only physical or moral impossibility excuses from confession of this type; in such a case reconciliation can be obtained by other means.
Individual confession and absolution is the kind of sacramental confession we normally make: One person (an individual) talking to a priest, who absolves him. This is opposed, for example, to a priest offering a general absolution to a bunch of people at once in a grave circumstance (e.g., they’re all in an airplane that is about to crash and there is no time for individual confession). This latter is allowed in rare and grave circumstances. By nature it is an extraordinary situation, as opposed to individual confession and absolution being the “only ordinary means” of reconciliation.
The term “integral” confession is less familiar. What “integral” means is “complete.” In other words, the kind of confession we talked about at the top of the post, where for all your mortal sins, you say what each sin was, how many times it was committed, and anything that affected the species or kind of sin it was.
Why my correspondent was wondering was—since Canon 960 says that “only physical or moral impossibility excuses from confession of this type,” does the 1983 Code of Canon Law override all of the treatments given in older works of moral and pastoral theology about when one is excused from integral or “complete” confession.
The basic answer is no. The 1983 Code is not trying to change prior Catholic practice on this point. It had been the common teaching of Catholic theologians long before the 1983 Code that only physical or moral impossibility excused from making an integral confession. The Code is recognizing and incorporating this common teaching and thus giving canonical expression to what was already the traditional view. It thus does not override prior moral and pastoral thought on when one is excused from an integral confession. Whatever the older manuals said about this subject, to the extent it was sound then, is sound now. The 1983 Code didn’t change anything.
Of course, readers will wonder what some of these principles were, so let’s talk about that (which will allow me to answer some related queries sent by my correspondent).
The first concept we need to mention is physical impossibility. What’s that? Pretty much what it says. If, for example, you are in a crashing plane and there is no time to make a complete confession, you’re excused from doing so and can be absolved anyway. If you’ve had a stroke and are unable to communicate, you are similarly excused on grounds of physical impossibility.
What about moral impossibility? This category is meant to cover situations where it is physically possible to make an integral confession but there is some other factor that makes it very difficult to do so. Where the precise line on the next obvious question—“Just how difficult are we talking about?”—is a question that requires a judgment call, and it is here that the old moral/pastoral theology manuals play a useful role. This is exactly the kind of question they explore, using examples and principles to sketch out the answer.
For example, to take a very common example, let’s suppose you have forgotten how many times you committed a particular sin. Theoretically, you might be able to think harder and longer on the question and maybe come up with the exact number, but maybe that wouldn’t happen. Maybe you’d never get the exact number—or know with confidence that you had gotten it—and waiting to go to confession in that case would deprive you of the grace of the sacrament indefinitely, which is itself a grave thing. It could also send you tumbling off into the pits of scrupulosity—also a grave thing. Consequently, sound moral and pastoral theologians down through the ages have judged that one should only make reasonable efforts to determine the number of times one has committed a sin. If you’ve made a reasonable effort (i.e., what a normal faithful Catholic, not a living saint, would do) and can’t name the exact number, you are excused from doing so. You should, to the extent possible say things like, “I did this at least once” or “I did it a few times” or “I did it a lot of times,” but you are not bound to name any specific number.
Another situation—again very common—that excuses from an integral confession is scrupulosity. People suffering from this condition often get in destructive patterns of confession where they repeatedly confess sins over and over, go into agonizing and unnecessary amounts of detail, confess numerous sins of a venial nature because they can’t tell whether they were mortal, etc. Sound confessors have, down through the ages, developed rules for helping penitents fight such scrupulosity, such as telling (or even ordering) the penitent not to confess a sin unless he is absolutely sure it was mortal and that it was committed since the penitent’s last confession. If there is doubt about either of these points, the penitent should not confess it. (Note: This is the opposite of the advice given to people who don’t have scrupulosity, in which case a “confess it just to be safe” rule applies; it is the condition of scrupulosity that makes the difference in what is appropriate for the penitent to do).
Another common example—closely linked with scrupulosity—is obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). Sufferers of this condition have painful and distressing thoughts, and the more they dwell on these thoughts, the worse they become. They need, to the best of their ability, to ignore them, relax, and move on. Thus if a penitent with OCD (or anyone, for that matter) is having compulsive sexual thoughts or disturbing religious thoughts or similar things and if confessing them would tend to stir up these thoughts, it is very easy to justify a non-integral confession regarding them. First, if they are compulsive then the person is not fully consenting to them and they are not moral. Even if the person has consented to them, if mentioning the details in confession would stir them up then the penitent should not go into detail. If he can get away with saying, “I’ve had impure thought” or “I’ve had bad thoughts” with out stirring them up then he should do that, but in principle even that can be omitted if the danger of stirring them up is significant enough.
rom an integral confession. If the tendencies are strong then there may well be.
For people who have conditions like this, I recommend that they discuss the matter with their priest or spiritual director and ask the question directly, “Should I confess this kind of material.” That way, if they are later confessing to a new or unfamiliar priest and he says, “What kind of bad thoughts are you talking about?” they can reply, “I have scrupulosity/OCD and my priest/spiritual director has told me not to go into detail on this because it will only stir up the thoughts.” That will satisfy almost any confessor (actually, it will satisfy any confessor who is exercising sound judgment).
My correspondent asked about the situation of a penitent with “tendencies toward scrupulosity” but not full-blown scruples or OCD. Here there is a judgment call that must be made by the penitent and his confessor or spiritual director. If the tendencies are only mild then there may not be an excuse from integral confession. If the tendencies are strong then the penitent may well be excused.
Of course, the penitent should always maintain the attitude that he would confess the sins, with number and species-changing circumstance, if there wasn’t a situation preventing this (e.g., if I remembered, if it wouldn’t stir up these thoughts). If he has the attitude that he willfully would not confess a particular mortal sin no matter what then he is deliberately withholding something from confession that must be confessed. That would invalidate the sacrament. But as long as he has the will to confess everything he is supposed to then the confession will be valid, even though there are reasons that excuse him from confessing certain things.
There is a lot more that can be said on this subject. Indeed, there are whole chapters in the older moral and pastoral theology manuals. But I hope this much brings comfort to those who find themselves in such situations.
Happy Meat-Eating Friday! (2011 Edition)
Mr. Akin,
You wrote last year about meat on the Solemnity of St. Joseph even though it was a feast day.
http://www.jimmyakin.org/2010/03/happy-meateating-friday.html
Would this apply to the Solemnity of the Annunciation this Friday, March 25?
Yes, it does. The Annunciation is a solemnity, according to the General Roman Calendar (I'm linking to Wikipedia rather than the official calendar for 2011 on the bishops' web site b/c the latter is in the evil pdf format, but it confirms the same thing).
And according to the Code of Canon Law,
Can. 1251 Abstinence from meat, or from some other food as determined by the Episcopal Conference, is to be observed on all Fridays, unless a solemnity should fall on a Friday. Abstinence and fasting are to be observed on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday.
Therefore, have fun eating meat (if you want) this Friday!
Lent Fight Update!
In the years I have been maintaining this blog, I have uploaded something over 4700 posts (according to current statistics). This makes it a bit hard to remember everything I've put up.
Fortunately, I have the memories of readers to remind me, and one reader in particular has reminded me that there are some posts that I had forgotten to include in the Annual Lent Fight that I uploaded yesterday.
These posts concern, in particular, the Church's laws concerning Ash Wednesday and its laws regarding fasting.
As a result, I've done some link updating.
Since Ash Wednesday is a day of both fast and abstinence, I have chosen to repeat here the relevant links, along with this introductory note citing the main differences.
I hope this helps, and I wish all a tranquil and spiritually productive season of Lent.
GENERAL
DURATION
- THE DURATION OF LENT
- LET'S COUNT THE DAYS OF LENT
- "FORTY" DAYS
- THE INFAMOUS SUNDAYS IN LENT CONTROVERSY: I, II, III, IV,V
PENANCE IN GENERAL
FASTING
- THE LAW OF FAST: FOOD
- FASTING AND BEVERAGES
- FASTING AND "APPROVED LOCAL CUSTOM"
- FASTING AND "NO SECOND MEAL"
- FASTING AND "SOME FOOD IN MORNING AND EVENING"
- A SHORT PRIMER ON FASTING (BY SDG RATHER THAN JIMMY)
- MORE ON FASTING (BY SDG RATHER THAN JIMMY)
ABSTINENCE
- THE LAW OF ABSTINENCE
- FISHING INDUSTRY HOAX
- CAPYBARAS AND OTHER AQUATIC NON-FISH
- SOLEMNITIES THAT FALL ON FRIDAY DURING LENT
- SOUPS MADE WITH MEAT
ASH WEDNESDAY
HOLY THURSDAY
GOOD FRIDAY
FRIDAY PENANCE OUTSIDE OF LENT
What do you think?
Annual Lent Fight! (2014 Ed.)
For some years here on the blog, I have hosted a collection of posts on the subject of Lent and what the Church’s law requires during it. Together, these posts are known as the Annual Lent Fight–because many of these questions have been disputed (at times harshly).
This is because there are a lot of popular ideas (read: legends) out there about Lent, often based on attempts to summarize the Church’s law in a popular manner that ends up slightly misstating it.
If you want a careful reading of what the Church’s documents actually saw, check out the material in the Annual Lent Fight.
Is Lent really 40 days long–or is that a traditional and biblically resonant number that is attached to the days of Lent, though current documents indicate a different literal period of time?
How much food can be eaten on days of abstinence? Do you have to measure the size of the “two smaller meals” you often hear about to make sure they don’t add up to a full meal? And how would you measure that anyway? Calories? Volume? Mass? Something else?
Do caloric beverages count toward this total?
What can be eaten on days of abstinence? Do you have to avoid animal fat? Why don’t eggs and fish count as meat? Is it true that the pope was trying to protect the Italian fishing industry by allowing fish? What about eating mammals like capybaras?
Do you have to give something up for Lent? And if you do, can you have it on Sundays?
Of course, keeping the spirit of Lent means going beyond what the letter of the law mandates. A minimalistic observation of Lent focused on the least one can get away with is contrary to the orientation toward spiritual growth that the season is meant to provide.
But that’s no excuse for getting the law wrong–or for failing to grapple with the questions people have about it.
And so, let the Annual Lent Fight begin!
To prepare yourself for the Annual Lent Fight, please check out the following links:
- THE DURATION OF LENT
- LET’S COUNT THE DAYS OF LENT
- “FORTY” DAYS
- THE INFAMOUS SUNDAYS IN LENT CONTROVERSY: I, II, III, IV, V
- THE LAW OF FAST: FOOD
- FASTING AND BEVERAGES
- FASTING AND “APPROVED LOCAL CUSTOM”
- FASTING AND “NO SECOND MEAL”
- FASTING AND “SOME FOOD IN MORNING AND EVENING”
- A SHORT PRIMER ON FASTING (BY SDG RATHER THAN JIMMY)
- MORE ON FASTING (BY SDG RATHER THAN JIMMY)
- THE LAW OF ABSTINENCE
- FISHING INDUSTRY HOAX
- CAPYBARAS AND OTHER AQUATIC NON-FISH
- SOLEMNITIES THAT FALL ON FRIDAY DURING LENT
- SOUPS MADE WITH MEAT
FRIDAY PENANCE OUTSIDE OF LENT
What do you think?