This is the first of six, which will be posted on subsequent days.
THE NECESSARY CONSISTENCY OF THE MAGISTERIUM WITH TRADITION.
THE EXAMPLES OF HISTORY
by Claudio Pierantoni
Professor of Medieval Philosophy
University of Chile
Professor of Medieval Philosophy
University of Chile
In this presentation we will first briefly examine the
incidents of two popes of antiquity, Liberius and Honorius, who for different
reasons were accused of deviating from the Tradition of the Church, during the
long Trinitarian and Christological controversy that occupied the Church from
the 4th to the 7th century.
In the light of the reactions of the ecclesial body in the
face of these doctrinal deviations, we will then examine the current debate
that has developed around the proposals of Pope Francis in the apostolic
exhortation “Amoris Laetitia” and the five “dubia” raised by the four
cardinals.
1. The case of Honorius
Honorius I was the only pope to have been formally condemned
for heresy. We are in the early decades of the 7th century, in the context of
the controversy over the two wills of Christ. Honorius upheld the doctrine of
the one will in Christ, or “monothelitism”, which was however later declared to
be in contrast with the dogma of the two natures, divine and human, a doctrine
solidly founded on biblical revelation and solemnly decreed by the Council of
Chalcedon in 451.
Here is the text with which, in 681, after his death, the
third ecumenical Council of Constantinople, the sixth ecumenical council,
condemned him together with Patriarch Sergius:
“Having examined the dogmatic letters written by Sergius, in
his time the patriarch of this imperial city. . . and the letter with which Honorius
responded to Sergius, and having seen that they are not in keeping with the
apostolic teachings and with the definitions of the holy councils and of all
the illustrious holy Fathers, and that on the contrary they follow the false
doctrines of the heretics, we reject them and execrate them as corruptive.”
2. The case of Liberius
Liberius was instead pope at one of the most delicate
moments of the Arian controversy, halfway through the 4th century. His
predecessor, Julius I, had tenaciously defended the faith established by the
Council of Nicaea in 325, which declared the Son to be consubstantial with the
Father. But Constantius, the emperor of the East, supported the majority
position of the eastern bishops, contrary to Nicaea, which according to them
did not leave room for the personal difference between the Father and the Son.
He had the pope abducted, deposed, and sent into exile in Thrace, where after
about a year he gave in.
Lberius thus renounced the faith of Nicaea and
excommunicated Athanasius, who was its most significant defender. Now docile to
the emperor, Liberius obtained permission to come back to Rome, where he was
reinstalled as bishop. In the months that followed, all the pro-Arian prelates
who had established their careers through the favor of Constantius consolidated
their power in the main episcopal sees. This is the moment at which, according
to the famous expression of Saint Jerome, “the world lamented that it had
become Arian.” Of the more than one thousand bishops that Christendom numbered,
only three stalwarts held firm in exile: Athanasius of Alexandria, Hilary of
Poitiers, and Lucifer of Cagliari.
But Constantius died suddenly, in 361, and the emperor
Julian, later called “the Apostate,” rose to the throne. He imposed the return
of the Roman state to paganism, eliminated the whole ecclesiastical policy of
Constantius at a stroke, and allowed the exiled bishops to go back to their
jurisdictions. Free from threats, Pope Liberius sent an encyclical that
declared invalid the formula he had previously approved, and required the
bishops of Italy to accept the creed of Nicaea. In 366, in a synod celebrated
in Rome shortly before he died, he even had the joy of obtaining the signature
of the creed of Nicaea by a delegation of eastern bishops. As soon as he died
he was venerated as a confessor of the faith, but devotion to him was soon
interrupted because of the memory of his concession.
In spite of their differences, the two cases of Liberius and
Honorius have in common an attenuating circumstance, and that is the fact that
their respective doctrinal deviations took place when the respective doctrines
were still being determined, that of the Trinity in the case of Liberius and
the Christological one in the case of Honorius.
3. The case of Francis
However, the doctrinal deviation that is taking place during
the current pontificate instead has an aggravating circumstance, because it is
not countering doctrines that are still unclear, or still being determined, but
doctrines that, in addition to being solidly anchored in Tradition, have also
been exhaustively debated in recent decades and clarified in detail by the
recent magisterium.
Of course, the doctrinal deviation in question was already
present in recent decades and with it therefore was also the underground schism
that this signified. But when one passes from an abuse at the practical level
to its justification at the doctrinal level through a text of the pontifical
magisterium like “Amoris Laetitia” and through positive statements and actions
of the pontiff himself, the situation changes radically.
Let us see, in four points, the progress of this destruction
of the deposit of the faith.
First
If marriage is indissoluble, and yet in some cases communion
can be given to the divorced and remarried, it seems evident that this
indissolubility is no longer considered absolute, but only a general rule that
can admit exceptions.
Now this, as Cardinal Carlo Caffarra has explained well,
contradicts the nature of the sacrament of marriage, which is not a simple
promise, as solemn as it may be, made before God, but an action of grace that
works at the genuinely ontological level. Therefore, when it is said that
marriage is indissoluble, what is stated is not simply a general rule, but what
is said is that ontologically marriage cannot be dissolved, because in it is
contained the sign and the reality of the indissoluble marriage between God and
his People, between Christ and his Church. And this mystical marriage is
precisely the end of the whole divine plan of creation and redemption.
Second
The author of “Amoris Laetitia” has instead chosen to
insist, in his argumentation, on the subjective side of moral action. The
subject, he says, may not be in mortal sin because, for various reasons, he is
not fully aware that his situation constitutes adultery.
Now this, which in general terms can certtainly happen, in
the utilization that “Amoris Laetitia” makes of it instead involves an evident
contradiction. In fact, it is clear that the much-recommended discernment and
accompaniment of individual situations directly contrast with the supposition
that the subject remains, for an indefinite time, unaware of his situation.
But the author of “Amoris Laetitia,” far from perceiving
this contradiction, pushes it to the further absurdity of affirming that an
in-depth discernment can lead the subject to have the certainty that his
situation, objectively contrary to the divine law, is precisely what God wants
from him.
Third
Recourse to the previous argument, in turn, betrays a
dangerous confusion that in addition to the doctrine of the sacraments goes so
far as to undermine the very notion of divine law, understood as the source of
the natural law, reflected in the Ten Commandments: a law given to man because
it is suited to regulating his fundamental behaviors, not limited to particular
historical circumstances, but founded on his very nature, the author of which
is none other than God.
Therefore, to suppose that the natural law may admit
exceptions is a real and proper contradiction, it is a supposition that does
not understand its true essence and therefore confuses it with positive law.
The presence of this grave confusion is confirmed by the repeated attack,
present in “Amoris Laetitia,” against the quibblers, the presumed “pharisees”
who are hypocrites and hard of heart. This attack, in fact, betrays a complete
misunderstanding of the position of Jesus toward the divine law, because his
criticism of pharisaic behavior is based precisely on a clear distinction between
positive law - the “precepts of men” - to which the pharisees are so attached,
and the fundamental Commandments, which are instead the first requirement,
indispensable, that he himself asks of the aspiring disciple. On the basis of
this misunderstanding one understands the real reason why, after having so
greatly insulted the pharisees, the pope ends up in de facto alignment with
their own position in favor of divorce, against that of Jesus.
But, even more deeply, it is important to observe that this
confusion profoundly distorts the very essence of the Gospel and its necessary
grounding in the person of Christ.
Fourth
Christ in fact, according to the Gospel, is not simply a
good man who came into the world to preach a message of peace and justice. He
is, first of all, the Logos, the Word who was in the beginning and who, in the
fullness of time, becomes incarnate. It is significant that Benedict XVI, right
from his homily “Pro eligendo romano pontifice,” made precisely the Logos the
linchpin of his teaching, not by coincidence fought to the death by the
subjectivism of the modern theories.
Now, in the realm of this subjectivist philosophy there is
the justification of one of the postulates most dear to Pope Francis, according
to which “realities are more important than ideas.” A maxim like this, in fact,
makes sense only in a vision in which there cannot exist true ideas that not
only faithfully reflect reality but can even judge and direct it. The Gospel,
taken as a whole, presupposes this metaphysical and epistemological structure,
where truth is in the first place the conforming of things to the intellect,
and the intellect is in the first place that which is divine: indeed, the
divine Word.
In this atmosphere it can be understood how it is possible
that the editor of “La Civiltà Cattolica” could state that it is pastoral
practice that must guide doctrine, and not the other way around, and that in
theology “two plus two can equal five.” It explains why a Lutheran lady can
receive communion together with her Catholic husband: the practice, in fact,
the action, is that of the Lord’s Supper, which they have in common, while that
in which they differ is only “the interpretations, the explanations,” mere
concepts after all. But it also explains how, according to the superior general
of the Society of Jesus, the incarnate Word is not capable of coming into
contact with his creatures through the means that he himself chose, the
apostolic Tradition: in fact, it would be necessary to know what Jesus truly
said, but we cannot, he says, “since there was no recorder.”
Even more thoroughly in this atmosphere, finally, it is
explained how the pope cannot answer “yes” or “no” to the “dubia.” If in fact
“realities are more important than ideas,” then man does not even need to think
with the principle of non-contradiction, he has no need of principles that say
“this yes and this no” and must not even obey a transcendent natural law, which
is not identified with reality itself. In short, man does not need a doctrine,
because the historical reality suffices for itself. It is the “Weltgeist,” the
Spirit of the World.
4. Conclusion
What leaps to the attention in the current situation is
precisely the underlying doctrinal deformation that, as skillful as it may be
in evading directly heterodox formulations, still maneuvers in a coherent way
to carry forward an attack not only against particular dogmas like the
indissolubility of marriage and the objectivity of the moral law, but even
against the very concept of right doctrine, and with it, of the very person of
Christ as Logos. The first victim of this doctrinal deformation is precisely
the pope, who I hazard to conjecture is hardly aware of this, victim of a
generalized epochal alienation from Tradition, in large segments of theological
teaching.
In this situation, the “dubia,” these five questions
presented by the four cardinals, have put the pope into a situation of
stalemate. If he were to respond by denying Tradition and the magisterium of
his predecessors, he would also be heretic formally, so he cannot do it. But if
he were to respond in harmony with the previous magisterium, he would contradict
many of the doctrinally significant actions carried out during his pontificate,
so it would be a very difficult choice. He has therefore chosen silence
because, humanly, the situation can seem to have no way out. But meanwhile, the
confusion and the “de facto” schism are spreading in the Church.
In the light of all this, it therefore becomes more
necessary than ever to make a further act of courage, truth, and charity, on
the part of the cardinals but also of the bishops and then of all the qualified
laity who would like to adhere to it. In such a serious situation of danger for
the faith and of generalized scandal, it is not only licit but even obligatory
to frankly address a fraternal correction to Peter, for his good and that of
the whole Church.
A fraternal correction is neither an act of hostility, nor a
lack of respect, nor an act of disobedience. It is nothing other than a
declaration of truth: “caritas in veritate.” The pope, even before being pope,
is our brother.
