Bernard Doering has written an excellent article. The article uses contemporaneous letters which listen like a fly on the wall to a private conversation about a public topic. Second, it preserves the nuances of the different directions in which these first rate Catholic thinkers were being pulled. Third, it leaves the reader -- at least this reader -- with a fresh perspective from which to ponder the relationship between Church teaching and change.
It has been decades since Vatican II, the turmoil of the 60s, and Humanae Vitae. The article nicely places in historical perspective the current controversy over contraception, and suggests -- at least to this reader -- that the unsettled issue of Church teaching and change has been fermenting beneath the surface.
How are we to be faithful to a loving God? By loving one another, of course, but Church teaching has provided a more detailed framework of principles and more particular and concrete guidance to assist the faithful conscience. On the one hand, Church teaching is acknowledged to be a work in progress: tradition and the sensus fidelium play a role. On the other hand, Church teaching should reflect and maintain the continuity and identity of the Church. As the article suggests, tension remains.
My own view is that at least one path forward is provided by what St. Augustine called God's "book of nature," although St. Augustine would never have dreamed what creative guidance the book of nature is now providing us. It is probably only coincidence, but just as Vatican II was concluding science was discovering the cosmic background radiation. This evidence tells us that nature itself is evolving, putting to rest the idea that change is simply about uncovering what we do not yet know.
Even Einstein once thought that the universe was eternal, and that the task of science was to disclose the mind of "the old one." His General Theory of Relativity is elegantly based upon a single assumption: the laws of physics are the same everywhere and everywhen. It is -- as Einstein himself preferred to call it -- a theory of invariants (his field equations were "invariant" under transformations across time and space), a far cry from relativism. But to preserve a universe that was eternal Einstein had to add a "cosmological constant" to his equations, an ad hoc addition which he later regarded as the biggest blunder of his life.
There is a parallel, I think, between conceiving the universe as an eternal reality about which we gradually learn more and conceiving of Church teaching as being developed gradually through tradition. Both conceptions grasp at continuity but miss something that is important about the one reality that a loving and utterly awesome God is unfolding before us and, thereby, sharing with us. What is missing is this: continuity does not require certitude in how we look at our past understandings. Instead, continuity requires trust.
Trust in what? In science understandings change, but past understandings can still be trusted to explain the evidence they once explained. Newtonian mechanics is still trusted with mundane tasks of constructing buildings and bridges, even though Einstein's equations are needed to make our GPS devices work. Newtonian mechanics is still trusted for calculating how galaxies move, even though Einstein's equations are needed to explain how the orbit of Mercury changes. So the understandings of Einstein and Newton are about being useful, rather than true. Einstein did not depose Newton; they continue to live together, in continuity and in trust.
Vatican I spoke explicitly about the infallibility of the Pope. Vatican II spoke explicitly about the "sense of the faithful" as a crucible for discerning whether Church teachings are "received." The People of God continue to struggle with these understandings, but they can work together, can they not?
What ties these understandings together in a bond of trust is St. Augustine's "book of nature." Granted, St. Augustine would be surprised by the novelty of this approach but, upon reflection, might well find comfort in a God of surprises. It is remarkable how recent are our current understandings of the cosmos. The cosmic background radiation and a coherent picture of how the universe has evolved (what some who teach about such matters call "big history" from the Big Bang forward) has all come to light in the last fifty years. We have been graced with an unfolding reality, one that unfolds not simply with new knowledge -- as if (to use Bernard Lonergan's expression) the real were a subdivision of the "already out there now" -- but a reality that unfolds with further surprises.
My faith tells me -- or, better, suggests to me, subject ultimately to a "sense of the faithful" -- that Jesus the Christ is one of these surprises and that what is understood "but through a glass, darkly," as the parousia will be another surprise. But what about the tension that Doering's article summarized by the question: "How can a proposition that is not infallible -- such as the conclusions of Humanae Vitae -- be nonetheless irreformable?" We need a different way of looking at the problem, a different way of understanding how continuity is maintained in a progression from Papal infallibility to the sensus fidelium, a progression that proceeds in trust from an ancient heritage that is open to surprises.
The mechanism for such an understanding is remarkably simple. Suppose that each conscience resonates with the word of God, "written on their hearts." The word is perceived "but through a glass, darkly," so that the choice made by conscience is typically between one alternative that may have resonated at an earlier time and another alternative that now is more resonant. Common experience with progress toward maturity recognizes, of course, the role of concupiscence, whose cautionary tales are a mark of wisdom.
Apply this model to the People of God as a whole. Are we not the body of Christ, with a collective conscience that has found resonance in the teaching authority of the magisterium, even though the people struggle with varying degrees of allegiance and submission to the teachings of the magisterium? Is it not a sign of the times that many people are looking for a way of understanding the unity of the Church that yields continuity with the past and yet resonates more? Those who are satisfied with reliance upon the infallibility of the Pope may see some form of concupiscence operating among those for whom the concept of "definitive teaching" does not resonate, but is that an accurate reading of the conscience of others?
Thus the People of God as a whole struggles with what is written on their collective heart. Vatican I provided a doctrine that codified the practice of authoritative teaching by the magisterium. The doctrine was formally limited to seldom used ex cathedra statements, and Vatican II articulated a "sense of the faithful" methodology for testing whether teachings were in accordance with the Spirit. But Vatican II also validated the teaching authority of the magisterium, and as Doering's article points out the concept of "definitive teaching" implements that validation.
But all of this is understandable as the working out of the collective conscience toward ever more resonant formulations of what is "written on their hearts." Viewed in this light there emerges a bridge across any lingering separation between lay and cleric, the bridge of dialogue. A style of dialogue becomes a prominent component of an ongoing process involving the whole People of God rather than a dilution of magisterial teaching authority. Vatican II highlighted the importance of parish and diocesan councils, but little has been done with these institutions. The Church continues to grow, slowly. General acceptance within the Church of an understanding of continuity that trusts change and nourishes dialogue remains ahead of us, as does greater use of parish and diocesan councils.
These are exciting times. God's surprises in the cosmos are a sign.
I'm grateful to see Commonweal publish this thoughtful historical piece showing diversity of opinion surrounding birth control at the time of Humanae Vitae. During the current healthcare mandate controversy framed in terms of religious freedom, it has been discouraging to me to see virtually no discussion among Catholic intellectuals on the issue of contraception itself. Thanks for offering this article.
Maritain’s judgment was true, reasoned and critical. His disposition against confrontation with authority was a cultural behavior of most pre-Vatican II clergy and theologians. However, many theologians and bishops of that era who served on the Ponticial Birth Control Commission were in a better position as a group to voice their opinion….since it was in a period of reflection and investigation on the issue of contracepton (1963-1966).
What was important about Maritain’s judgment was the fact that he was one of the most respected experts who supported Church teachings all of his life, but could not in good conscious defend Humanae Vitae, ….other than to argue from the position of authority….as he suggested to Journet. However, an argument from authority, according to most schools of Catholic teaching, is the weakest argument.
The theological tools for an examination of any moral issue has never changed. They are: scripture, “tradition” and Tradition, reason and experience. The Church uses these tools of moral knowledge to develop its natural law method and formulate norms to guide human behavior. Yet, while JP II insisted that Catholic theology does not endorse one particular philosophical or theological method, in practice he often accepted only the neoscholastic method. The over-emphasis on tradition and past papal encyclicals, in particular Casti Conuubii and the teachings of Pius XII, were not the only reasons for universal, unchanging norms.
The most important moral absolute in HV, the inseparability principle, that governed sexual ethics for the next 44 years, can be found word-for-word in Karol Wojtyla’s 1960 book “Love and Responsibilty”. No other pope, clergy or theologian had ever written or proposed as a moral teaching an inseparability principle before that time. It is not surprising that JP II was intransigent on the issue of contraception. In reality, he was defending not the opinion of Paul VI, but his own very words.
It is ironic that Paul VI asserted that one of the reasons he could not accept the conclusions of the PBCC’s majority report, which represented a 75% majority opinion of its members from 5 continents and 11 countrires…..because…. “there was not complete agreement among its members”. Yet, he accepted the minority report.
Bernard Doering has written an excellent article. The article uses contemporaneous letters which listen like a fly on the wall to a private conversation about a public topic. Second, it preserves the nuances of the different directions in which these first rate Catholic thinkers were being pulled. Third, it leaves the reader -- at least this reader -- with a fresh perspective from which to ponder the relationship between Church teaching and change.
It has been decades since Vatican II, the turmoil of the 60s, and Humanae Vitae. The article nicely places in historical perspective the current controversy over contraception, and suggests -- at least to this reader -- that the unsettled issue of Church teaching and change has been fermenting beneath the surface.
How are we to be faithful to a loving God? By loving one another, of course, but Church teaching has provided a more detailed framework of principles and more particular and concrete guidance to assist the faithful conscience. On the one hand, Church teaching is acknowledged to be a work in progress: tradition and the sensus fidelium play a role. On the other hand, Church teaching should reflect and maintain the continuity and identity of the Church. As the article suggests, tension remains.
My own view is that at least one path forward is provided by what St. Augustine called God's "book of nature," although St. Augustine would never have dreamed what creative guidance the book of nature is now providing us. It is probably only coincidence, but just as Vatican II was concluding science was discovering the cosmic background radiation. This evidence tells us that nature itself is evolving, putting to rest the idea that change is simply about uncovering what we do not yet know.
Even Einstein once thought that the universe was eternal, and that the task of science was to disclose the mind of "the old one." His General Theory of Relativity is elegantly based upon a single assumption: the laws of physics are the same everywhere and everywhen. It is -- as Einstein himself preferred to call it -- a theory of invariants (his field equations were "invariant" under transformations across time and space), a far cry from relativism. But to preserve a universe that was eternal Einstein had to add a "cosmological constant" to his equations, an ad hoc addition which he later regarded as the biggest blunder of his life.
There is a parallel, I think, between conceiving the universe as an eternal reality about which we gradually learn more and conceiving of Church teaching as being developed gradually through tradition. Both conceptions grasp at continuity but miss something that is important about the one reality that a loving and utterly awesome God is unfolding before us and, thereby, sharing with us. What is missing is this: continuity does not require certitude in how we look at our past understandings. Instead, continuity requires trust.
Trust in what? In science understandings change, but past understandings can still be trusted to explain the evidence they once explained. Newtonian mechanics is still trusted with mundane tasks of constructing buildings and bridges, even though Einstein's equations are needed to make our GPS devices work. Newtonian mechanics is still trusted for calculating how galaxies move, even though Einstein's equations are needed to explain how the orbit of Mercury changes. So the understandings of Einstein and Newton are about being useful, rather than true. Einstein did not depose Newton; they continue to live together, in continuity and in trust.
Vatican I spoke explicitly about the infallibility of the Pope. Vatican II spoke explicitly about the "sense of the faithful" as a crucible for discerning whether Church teachings are "received." The People of God continue to struggle with these understandings, but they can work together, can they not?
What ties these understandings together in a bond of trust is St. Augustine's "book of nature." Granted, St. Augustine would be surprised by the novelty of this approach but, upon reflection, might well find comfort in a God of surprises. It is remarkable how recent are our current understandings of the cosmos. The cosmic background radiation and a coherent picture of how the universe has evolved (what some who teach about such matters call "big history" from the Big Bang forward) has all come to light in the last fifty years. We have been graced with an unfolding reality, one that unfolds not simply with new knowledge -- as if (to use Bernard Lonergan's expression) the real were a subdivision of the "already out there now" -- but a reality that unfolds with further surprises.
My faith tells me -- or, better, suggests to me, subject ultimately to a "sense of the faithful" -- that Jesus the Christ is one of these surprises and that what is understood "but through a glass, darkly," as the parousia will be another surprise. But what about the tension that Doering's article summarized by the question: "How can a proposition that is not infallible -- such as the conclusions of Humanae Vitae -- be nonetheless irreformable?" We need a different way of looking at the problem, a different way of understanding how continuity is maintained in a progression from Papal infallibility to the sensus fidelium, a progression that proceeds in trust from an ancient heritage that is open to surprises.
The mechanism for such an understanding is remarkably simple. Suppose that each conscience resonates with the word of God, "written on their hearts." The word is perceived "but through a glass, darkly," so that the choice made by conscience is typically between one alternative that may have resonated at an earlier time and another alternative that now is more resonant. Common experience with progress toward maturity recognizes, of course, the role of concupiscence, whose cautionary tales are a mark of wisdom.
Apply this model to the People of God as a whole. Are we not the body of Christ, with a collective conscience that has found resonance in the teaching authority of the magisterium, even though the people struggle with varying degrees of allegiance and submission to the teachings of the magisterium? Is it not a sign of the times that many people are looking for a way of understanding the unity of the Church that yields continuity with the past and yet resonates more? Those who are satisfied with reliance upon the infallibility of the Pope may see some form of concupiscence operating among those for whom the concept of "definitive teaching" does not resonate, but is that an accurate reading of the conscience of others?
Thus the People of God as a whole struggles with what is written on their collective heart. Vatican I provided a doctrine that codified the practice of authoritative teaching by the magisterium. The doctrine was formally limited to seldom used ex cathedra statements, and Vatican II articulated a "sense of the faithful" methodology for testing whether teachings were in accordance with the Spirit. But Vatican II also validated the teaching authority of the magisterium, and as Doering's article points out the concept of "definitive teaching" implements that validation.
But all of this is understandable as the working out of the collective conscience toward ever more resonant formulations of what is "written on their hearts." Viewed in this light there emerges a bridge across any lingering separation between lay and cleric, the bridge of dialogue. A style of dialogue becomes a prominent component of an ongoing process involving the whole People of God rather than a dilution of magisterial teaching authority. Vatican II highlighted the importance of parish and diocesan councils, but little has been done with these institutions. The Church continues to grow, slowly. General acceptance within the Church of an understanding of continuity that trusts change and nourishes dialogue remains ahead of us, as does greater use of parish and diocesan councils.
These are exciting times. God's surprises in the cosmos are a sign.
Clyde:
Bravo! A most articulate and insightful explication of this complex subject. Indeed, we need a bridge of understanding between Vatican I and II. This will happen in time. However, Humanae Vitae caused a temporary rupture in this bridge by sending the Church back in time to pre-concilar teachings and orthodoxy.
When something is not completely true, it often manifests itself in complex cases that cause moral dilemma, conflict and distrust. The Church has no reasonable answer to the suffering of one spouse who is seropositive, or to the young married woman whose life it threatened by another pregnancy. Each must practice risky periodic continence or celibacy. A magisterium that claim such answers are the moral truth and points to sanctity and perhaps a diminishment of the gravity of sin, is often viewed by the sensus fidelium as stoic insensibility. However, ignoring a Church teaching is also not the answer.
Few of us deny that we have a crisis of truth and a Church divided. unlike any other time in history. God surprise us all the time, and we all experience his surprises in our lives. However, no one is waiting for an epiphany, either impacting the faithful or the magisterium. Catholics live in the real and now. They strive to live moral and vituous lives as best as they can under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, their informed consciouses, constant prayer and receipt of the sacraments. Most Catholics give respect to the magisterium, not blind obediance. Those who disagree can be faithful Catholics. Yet,often this is not the message from Rome. When it comes to sexual ethics we are either in the culture of life or the culture of death, we are either assenters or dissenters, there is no middle ground. The theology of conscience is not a topic that is preached or understood by most Catholic because Rome fears Catholics may not comprehend it or it will lead to individualism and relativism.
The good news is that the sensus fidelium finds some peace from moral dilemma in pastoral practices. There we also find an inconsistency and contradication between the word and deed, between certain teachings involving sexual ethics and pastoral advice and counseling. This was more true in the 1970s, but today about 40% of priests do not believe that HV is the absolute moral truth. In other words, there are aome circumstances, intentions and ends where the practice of contraception may not be immoral.
The best news is that most Catholics don't allow a disagreement with certain Church teachings to become an obsticle to their relationship with Christ.
Let's hope that further dialogue between theologians, clergy, hierarchy and the general laity become a two way street. At the moment, we have a one way street, from the top to the bottom, from the teacher to the student, from Rome to everyone else, without remainder. There is also hope in the God of surprises.
Very good Clyde.. and Bernard...