Tres científicos prueban que las políticas contraceptivas no frenan sino que disparan el aborto

In RL

Desde la encíclica Humanae Vitae de Pablo VI en 1968, pasando por la incesante predicación de Juan Pablo II contra la que denominó "cultura de la muerte" (concepto que ha cuajado en el habla común), hasta llegar a las claras palabras al respecto de Benedicto XVI, la Iglesia ha sostenido siempre que la mentalidad anticonceptiva constituía el mejor preparatorio para la tolerancia con el aborto. Y que, por tanto, la difusión de métodos de planificación familiar no era la forma de evitar abortos ni la alternativa a su incremento.

Los hechos han ido confirmando punto por punto esa perspectiva: países como España, que han apostado a fondo por la difusión de la mentalidad anticonceptiva entre los jóvenes, cosechan un índice creciente de abortos en ese mismo estrato de población.

El misterio de tres países de la antigua Unión Soviética
Pero para probar la correlación científicamente era preciso estudiar la causalidad entre ambos fenómenos, y no su mera concomitancia. Terreno propicio era la conocida discrepancia entre los datos de Rusia, Bielorrusia y Ucrania, donde las tasas de aborto empezaron a caer tras la caída del comunismo, cuando el aborto era considerado a nivel legal y estadístico un método anticonceptivo. Sin embargo, la caída es mucho menor en Rusia, donde el uso de métodos anticonceptivos se ha impuesto mucho más que en Bielorrusia y Ucrania, donde eso no ha sucedido, caída con mucha mayor rapidez.

Datos que eran considerados por la industria anticonceptiva un mero error estadístico, hasta que tres científicos han demostrado que se trata de "un fenómeno genuino".

En un artículo publicado el 30 de noviembre en la prestigiosa revista científica on line PLOS-One, los investigadores Boris Denisov, de la Universidad de Moscú, Victoria Sakevich, del Instituto de Demografía de Moscú, y Aiva Jasilioniene, del Instituto Max Planck de Rostock (Alemania) han llegado a la conclusion de que "las crecientes diferencias en la tasa de Aborto en Bielorrusia, Rusia y Ucrania es un fenómeno genuino, y no una manipulación estadística. El estudio del aborto y de la prevalencia de la contracepción basada en estadísticas oficiales y en tres muestras nacionales no revela ningún factor claro que pueda explicar las diferencias en la dinámica del aborto en Bielorrusia, Rusia y Ucrania".

Los investigadores (cuya finalidad no es, desde luego, situarse en la estela de la cultura de la vida pontificia) consideran "contradictorio", "inesperado", "paradójico" y "sorprendente" que, mientras que tras la caída del comunismo el uso de anticonceptivos se disparó entre las mujeres rusas y cayó entre las bielorrusas y ucranianas, las rusas aborten significativamente más que las bielorrusas y ucranianas. Una diferencia chocante dadas "las similitudes demográficas, sociales e históricas entre las tres naciones".

En síntesis y grosso modo, los datos son que desde 1990 a 2010 la tasa de abortos ha caído a una tercera parte en Rusia y a una sexta parte en Bielorrusia y Ucrania. En cuanto al número de abortos entre 1990 y 2010 pasó: en Rusia, de 4,1 millones a 1,2 millones (29%); en Ucrania, de 1 millón a 177.000 (18%); en Bielorrusia, de 261.000 a 33.000 (13%).

Como concluye el estudio, las legislaciones sobre el aborto son similares y el acceso a los métodos anticonceptivos también. No parece haber, pues, más explicación que el uso. Cuando se usan más, se aborta más. Cuando se usan menos, se aborta menos. Justo lo contrario de lo que sostiene la ideología oficial de la cultura de la muerte, cuando incide en difundir más y mejor la contracepción como forma de contener unas cifras de abortos que incluso para dicha ideología son ya insoportables.

Ativistas LGBT Controlam Agência da ONU para Refugiados - by Stefano Gennarini, J.D.

NOVA IORQUE, EUA, 7 de dezembro (C-FAM) O Alto Comissário para Refugiados na ONU (ACRONU) publicou novas normas abrangentes de pedidos de asilo apresentados por indivíduos lésbicos, gays, bissexuais ou transgêneros (LGBT), com a compreensão de que as pessoas perseguidas por sua orientação sexual e identidade de gênero precisam receber concessão de asilo em decisões de condição de refugiados.

 

Apesar da contínua discórdia dentro da ONU por causa do reconhecimento de “orientação sexual e identidade de gênero” como categoria nas leis internacionais, o Alto Comissário para Refugiados na ONU (ACRONU) incluiu pessoas que são perseguidas por causa de sua orientação sexual e identidade de gênero entre aqueles que se qualificam para a condição de refugiado desde 2002.

O que está acontecendo é polêmico. A definição de refugiado na Situação de Refugiados de 1951, um dos primeiros tratados da ONU, exclui pessoas deslocadas por conflito armado ou outros desastres. Tentativas de expandir a definição, que só cobre perseguição por causa de raça, religião, nacionalidade, filiação num grupo social, e opinião política, têm parado e fracassado.

Sob a Convenção de 1951 pessoas que se qualificam como refugiadas não podem ser repatriadas para o país do qual estão fugindo. O ACRONU está incumbido de supervisionar a aplicação da convenção. Regimes de controle de fronteira de países membros da ONU são obrigados a cumprir essa obrigação.

As normas estabelecidas como premissa nas decisões de tribunais e agências progressistas de controle de fronteiras nacionais sustentam a orientação sexual e identidade de gênero como “aspectos fundamentais da identidade humana que são ou inatos ou imutáveis,” e “tão fundamentais para a dignidade humana que uma pessoa não deve ser compelida a abandoná-los.” As normas destacam as melhores práticas para procedimentos de decisão de condição de refugiado para pessoas LGBT, pedindo um “ambiente sempre favorável” e “uso de vocabulário que não seja ofensivo e mostre disposição positiva para com a diversidade.”

O ACRONU define os termos como “amplas categorias que criam espaço para auto-identificação.” A agência adverte contra aplicações inflexíveis de rótulos como lésbica, gay, bissexual, transexual, intersexual e homossexual, para citar alguns.

O ACRONU cita os Princípios de Yogyakarta, um documento polêmico criado por ativistas LGBT em 2007 para reivindicar uma ampla variedade de direitos para indivíduos LGBT nas leis internacionais, para justificar a concessão de asilo nessas bases e sua definição de categorias LGBT.

Embora as normas reconheçam a natureza não obrigatória dos Princípios de Yogyakarta, o ACRONU afirma que os princípios “refletem princípios bem estabelecidos nas leis internacionais.”

Esse uso dos Princípios de Yogyakarta por parte do ACRONU segue a intenção professa dos criadores do documento, alguns deles sustentando posições proeminentes dentro do sistema da ONU, de disseminar as reivindicações e transformá-las em recomendações e opiniões não obrigatórias de agências da ONU e sistema de direitos humanos da ONU, a fim de assegurar uma cabeça-de-ponte normativa para direitos LGBT dentro do sistema da ONU.

Especialistas em direito internacional contestam que a mera repetição dessas reivindicações possa ter o efeito de garantir aceitação universal de novos direitos especiais para indivíduos LGBT ou até mesmo criar novas leis consuetudinárias internacionais. Piero Tozzi, assessor legal sênior da Aliança de Defesa à Liberdade, negou tais efeitos quando os princípios foram publicados pela primeira vez dizendo que as leis internacionais “não são uma vasilha vazia na qual conteúdo politicamente correto hoje pode ser despejado e rotulado de ‘consuetudinário.’”

Tradução: Julio Severo

Concilio, ecco i 5 «punti fermi» - di Antonio Livi

In La nuova Bussola Quotidiana

Le celebrazioni per il cinquantesimo anniversario dell’apertura del Concilio Vaticano II sono state associate dal papa Benedetto XVI al sinodo dei Vescovi sulla “nuova evangelizzazione”. Si può dire che tutta la Chiesa cattolica si sia mobilitata per promuovere riunioni di preghiera, seminari di studio e corsi di lezioni teologiche nella linea indicata dal Papa. «Ma ? ha precisato opportunamente Benedetto XVI ?, affinché questa spinta interiore alla nuova evangelizzazione non rimanga soltanto ideale e non pecchi di confusione, occorre che essa si appoggi a una base concreta e precisa, e questa base sono i documenti del Concilio Vaticano II, nei quali essa ha trovato espressione. Per questo ho più volte insistito sulla necessità di ritornare, per così dire, alla “lettera” del Concilio – cioè ai suoi testi – per trovarne l’autentico spirito, e ho ripetuto che la vera eredità del Vaticano II si trova in essi. Il riferimento ai documenti mette al riparo dagli estremi di nostalgie anacronistiche e di corse in avanti, e consente di cogliere la novità nella continuità» (Benedetto XVI, discorso dell’11 ottobre 2012).

Per comprendere bene il discorso che il Papava facendo fin dall’inizio del suo pontificato sull’«ermeneutica del Concilio», occorre tener conto del fatto che, purtroppo, in questi cinquant’anni i testi conciliari sono stati spesso oggetto di un’informe avvicendarsi di interpretazioni arbitrarie e sostanzialmente ideologiche, tutte deprecate a suo tempo in numerosi discorsi pubblici dallo stesso Paolo VI, il papa che, dopo la morte di Giovanni XXIII, ha proseguito e concluso il Concilio Vaticano II. Ha levato la sua voce contro siffatte interpretazioni arbitrarie e sostanzialmente ideologiche anche il papa Giovanni Paolo II, la cui opera di chiarificazione dottrinale è stata continuata dall’attuale Pontefice. Ma gli stessi studiosi che hanno analizzato scientificamente i documenti del Concilio Vaticano II (gli schemi preparatori, le discussioni in commissione e in aula, i documenti finali votati dall’assemblea) hanno contribuito a diffondere nell’opinione pubblica cattolica una concezione confusa e conflittuale di quello che è stato e di quello che significa per la Chiesa l’evento pastorale e dottrinale del Concilio.

Vedrò di mettere a fuoco analiticamente i motivi di questa situazione, che sollecita la consapevolezza critica di chiunque avverta la propria diretta responsabilità nei confronti della vita di fede in mezzo al Popolo di Dio e abbia a cuore le sorti della “nuova evangelizzazione”.

La pubblicistica teologica degli ultimi anni ha visto il moltiplicarsi di opere di notevole valore scientifico sul concilio ecumenico Vaticano II. Sono opere di genere assai diverso ? molte sono di genere storiografico (di storia della Chiesa, di storia dei concili ecumenici, di storia del dogma e di storia della teologia), mentre altre sono di genere critico-dottrinale ? ma tutte hanno un carattere spiccatamente polemico, nel senso che mirano alla rivendicazione di un determinato atteggiamento critico nei confronti del Concilio, atteggiamento che si basa su una ricostruzione delle vicende storiche che hanno portato alla celebrazione di un concilio ecumenico dopo la prima metà del Novecento e a novant’anni dalla forzata interruzione del Vaticano I; a partire da tale ricostruzione storica, variamente interpretata, questi testi orientano il lettore a formulare un determinato giudizio di valore sul ruolo dei teologi che accompagnavano e consigliavano i padri conciliari, e quindi un giudizio di valore circa le stesse disposizioni pastorali e disciplinari emanate dal Concilio con la “costituzione pastorale” Gaudium et spes, con le “dichiarazioni” e con i “decreti”; infine ? come logica conclusione di tutto ciò ? un giudizio di valore persino sugli insegnamenti dottrinali contenuti nelle “costituzioni dogmatiche” Lumen gentium e Dei Verbum.

Tali giudizi di valore sono ovviamente di segno diverso, spesso gli uni in aperta opposizione agli altri, sicché questi ultimi cinquant’anni di vita della Chiesa cattolica ? il tempo che è trascorso dall’apertura del Vaticano II nel 1962 ? appaiono come il tempo della discussione su tutto, il tempo delle divisioni dottrinali e degli opposti estremismi ideologici, il tempo insomma del “conflitto delle interpretazioni”. Si è così generata nell’opinione pubblica cattolica la sensazione che la Chiesa sia oggi lacerata da insanabili divisioni ideologiche, quelle che superficialmente vengono sempre ricondotte a due opposte categorie culturali, sul modello della “destra” e della “sinistra” politica, la categoria dei “conservatori” e quella dei “progressisti”: i “conservatori” sarebbero quelli che criticano il Vaticano II o in diversi modi si oppongono al rinnovamento della vita della Chiesa voluto dal Concilio, mentre i “progressisti” sarebbero quelli che esaltano il Vaticano II e si adoperano per la più pronta e completa attuazione delle riforme da esso decretate.

Questa diffusa sensazione che la pubblicistica teologica ha ingenerato nell’opinione pubblica cattolica circa l’esistenza di insanabili divisioni ideologiche nella Chiesa di oggi può essere giustificata dai rilevamenti di sociologia religiosa, i quali però non riguardano l’essenza soprannaturale della Chiesa e l’essenziale delle vicende che riguardano la sua vita. In effetti, l’essenza soprannaturale della Chiesa, come insegna lo stesso concilio ecumenico Vaticano II, va vista nel suo essere, per istituzione divina, «l’universale sacramento della salvezza che svela e insieme realizza il mistero dell’amore di Dio verso l’uomo» (cfr Concilio ecumenico Vaticano II, costituzione pastorale Gaudium et spes, n. 45). Ora, la salvezza degli uomini dipende dalla fede, ossia, in concreto, dall’accoglimento della verità rivelata che la Tradizione apostolica conserva e annuncia infallibilmente agli uomini di ogni generazione: «Andate in tutto il mondo e annunciate il Vangelo a ogni creatura. Chi crederà e sarà battezzato sarà salvo; chi non crederà sarà dannato» (Vangelo secondo Marco, 16,15-18 ).

Ecco che, alla luce di questo dato teologico fondamentale, il pericolo di una divisione all’interno della Chiesa è un pericolo reale, e qualora siffatta divisione si verificasse di fatto essa dovrebbe essere considerata, non solo grave, ma addirittura esiziale: ma solo quando si tratta di attentati all’unità nella fede, ossia quando si verificano episodi di eresia e di scisma. Ora, la crisi attuale della Chiesa cattolica è davvero determinata dal diffondersi di posizioni ereticali? Possono essere qualificate come vere e proprie eresie le opposte teorie sulla dottrina del Concilio? È giusto dire che sia un’eresia la posizione dei “progressisti”, in contrasto con la posizione ortodossa rappresentata dai “conservatori”? Oppure, a contrario, si deve dire che è un’eresia la posizione dei “conservatori”, in polemica con la posizione ortodossa rappresentata dai “progressisti”? Non si tratterà piuttosto di interpretazioni della fede – diverse e talvolta anche contrapposte, ma sempre di per sé ammissibili? In quest’ultimo caso si dovrebbe parlare di legittime diversità di opinione, non di ortodossia e di eterodossia; in altri termini, si dovrebbe parlare di legittimo pluralismo all’interno della Chiesa, un pluralismo che di per sé non dovrebbe inficiare l’unità nella fede della Chiesa, la concordia pacifica nella «una fides».

L’unità di tutti nella fede della Chiesa viene a essere inficiata solo quando coloro che difendono una determinata interpretazione del dogma la assolutizzano, presentandola come l’unica possibile e giusta e giudicando di conseguenza le altre opinioni come vere e proprie eresie.

Per questo lavoro di chiarificazione occorre servirsi di considerazioni propriamente teologiche, che però siano fondate su una specifica competenza filosofica, quella logico-epistemologica, l’unica in grado di specificare quale sia il significato ? non equivoco né arbitrario bensì univoco e scientificamente giustificato ? dei termini essenziali del discorso che qui vien fatto, ossia: 1) “Chiesa cattolica”; 2) “magistero ecclesiastico”¸3) “teologia”; 4) “concilio ecumenico”; 5) “ermeneutica”.

1) Per “Chiesa cattolica”, nel contesto teologico che qui ci interessa, occorre intendere la comunità dei credenti gerarchicamente ordinata, nella quale spetta al collegio episcopale, con alla testa il Romano Pontefice, la funzione di governo (munus regendi), la funzione di conferimento della grazia divina (munus sanctificandi) e soprattutto la funzione di insegnamento (munus regendi), funzione che riguarda il dogma e la morale rivelata (in rebus fidei et morum) ed è autorevole perché dotata da Cristo stesso del carisma dell’infallibilità, ossia della prerogativa di essere immune da errori nell’annuncio della fede in ogni tempo e in ogni luogo (infallibilitas in docendo).

2) Tale funzione costituisce propriamente il “magistero ecclesiastico”, esercitato in forma ordinaria o solenne, dal collegio episcopale riunito in concilio ecumenico o dal Papa da solo quando parla ex cathedra.

3) Per “teologia”, come ho accuratamente spiegato nel mio trattato su Vera e falsa teologia. Come distinguere l’autentica “scienza della fede” da un’equivoca “filosofia religiosa” (Casa Editrice Leonardo da Vinci, Roma), deve intendersi lo studio scientifico della dottrina cristiana (nei suoi aspetti dogmatici e morali e nella dimensione storica e sociale, oltre che teoretica) il cui esito finale è una ipotesi di interpretazione del dogma. Ciò va rimarcato per distinguere la teologia dal magistero ecclesiastico, visto che quest’ultimo, oltre a enunciare in termini definitori il dogma, esercita necessariamente anche una funzione ermeneutica, e quindi formula delle interpretazioni del dogma, che però partecipano in vario modo e in grado diverso del carisma proprio del Magistero, che è l’infallibilità. In altri termini, la dottrina del Magistero, quando interpreta il dogma, non si esprime con proposizioni che si presentano come interpretazioni meramente ipotetiche, come quelle della teologia, ma con proposizioni che, pur non essendo definizioni dogmatiche, sono a tutti gli effetti interpretazioni autorevoli, ancorché riformabili, ossia riformulabili su piano linguistico e suscettibili di ampliamenti o restringimenti sul piano dei contenuti dottrinali e delle loro applicazioni pratiche.

4) Per “Concilio ecumenico” non si può intendere genericamente un evento religioso-culturale, perché si tratta propriamente di un atto del “magistero” ecclesiastico nella sua forma collegiale e solenne, ragione per cui sono del tutto abusive e teologicamente infondate (anche se si ricorre al linguaggio teologico parlando retoricamente di “Vangelo vivo”, di “voce dello Spirito” e di “coscienza della Chiesa”) le pretese di presentare il Vaticano II come un evento i cui protagonisti sarebbero i “periti” e l’esito finale sarebbe il definitivo prevalere nella Chiesa di un’ideologia (quella dei teologi progressisti) nei confronti di un’altra (quella dei teologi tradizionalisti). È in base a questa abusiva interpretazione teologica che il Concilio viene esaltato come la manifestazione della “creatività dogmatica” di una fantomatica “Chiesa dal basso” che, poi, paradossalmente, ha come propri esponenti dei veri e propri “principi della Chiesa” (come i cardinali Martini e Ravasi), gli autori della più astrusa e cervellotica teologia filo-hegeliana e filo-heideggeriana, i più potenti gruppi di potere teologico-politico all’interno della comunità ecclesiale (come la Scuola di Bologna e le Edizioni San Paolo, le Edizioni Dehoniane, la Cittadella Editrice), che elevano al rango di “profeti” personaggi ambigui come Giovanni Franzoni ed Enzo Bianchi. È anche in base a questa abusiva interpretazione teologica che il Concilio viene interpretato come un evento che ha provocato una “rottura”, una sostanziale “discontinuità” con la Tradizione dogmatica (si noti che “discontinuità” e “rottura” sono i termini precisi con i quali papa Benedetto XVI ha stigmatizzato questi errori teologici nel celebre discorso alla Curia romana il 22 dicembre 2005).

Infine, è ancora in base a questa abusiva interpretazione teologica che il Concilio Vaticano II viene presentato nella Chiesa come un insieme di norme (che vengono definite “pastorali” e “dottrinali” ma in realtà sono solo ideologiche) alle quali dovrebbero essere “fedeli”, non solo tutti i vescovi della Terra ma anche e soprattutto i pontefici romani, pena l’essere additati all’opinione pubblica ecclesiale ed extra-ecclesiale come esponenti del potere ecclesiastico che resiste alla rivoluzione conciliare per tema di perdere i propri privilegi, quando addirittura non vengono vituperati come “traditori della Chiesa”, “infedeli al Concilio”, “affossatori del rinnovamento ecclesiale” eccetera. Viene così a scomparire l’unico criterio autenticamente teologico riguardante l’interpretazione del Concilio, quello che parte dalla premessa dogmatica per cui un atto del magistero costituisce un insegnamento autorevole, rivolto a tutto il Popolo di Dio, con l’autorità e la forza soprannaturale del carisma proprio del munus docendi conferito da Cristo stesso agli Apostoli, ossia la “infallibilitas in docendo. Ogni atto del Magistero, essendo rivolto a tutti i cattolici in ordine alla conoscenza certa della fede che salva, contiene necessariamente un “nucleo” dottrinale e disciplinare accessibile a tutti e che pertanto non abbisogna di particolari ermeneutiche; se poi si rilevano storicamente anche elementi che possono aver bisogno di una ulteriore chiarificazione ermeneutica, nel quale caso la prima e fondamentale istanza è il Magistero stesso, nel senso che a esso spetta l’interpretazione autorevole del Concilio, ove occorra.

5) Il termine “ermeneutica”, usato anche dal papa Benedetto XVI per parlare della retta interpretazione della dottrina del Vaticano II, va inteso nel senso primario e tradizionale di “interpretazione” di un messaggio e/o di un testo scritto; non ha dunque alcuna giustificazione teologica l’uso (e l’abuso) di questo termine nel suo senso derivato e opinabile, che fa riferimento a una scuola filosofica ? quella di Hans-Georg Gadamer e di Gianni Vattimo ? i cui presupposti gnoseologici sono il soggettivismo e lo storicismo, e i cui esiti speculativi sono caratterizzati da un sostanziale relativismo.

A conclusione di questo discorso, e applicando alla pubblicistica sul Vaticano II le precisazioni concettuali che sono andato esponendo, si deve riconoscere che la crisi della Chiesa cattolica sta proprio nel fatto che talune posizioni ideologiche – che dovrebbero essere mantenute come mere ipotesi di interpretazione del dogma – sono invece presentate come l’unica maniera di intendere e di vivere la fede nelle circostanze storiche che la Chiesa oggi si trova ad affrontare. Così facendo, talune posizioni si configurano proprio come eresia, almeno materialmente, in quanto contengono affermazioni che sono oggettivamente contrarie alla fede della Chiesa, come quando si dice che il Vaticano II ha insegnato una dottrina dogmatica e morale difforme o addirittura contraria alla Tradizione, ossia in formale contraddizione con quanto insegnato dai precedenti concili ecumenici e dal magistero ordinario dei pontefici romani.


È la tesi che – pur da punti di vista opposti – sostengono sia gli estremisti dell’ala progressista come gli estremisti dell’ala conservatrice. I primi (i progressisti più radicali) articolano questa tesi presentando la dottrina del Concilio come una “nuova coscienza” sorta all’interno della Chiesa ad opera di teologi e “profeti” che sono stati capaci di farsi comprendere e rappresentare ufficialmente dai padri conciliari – il che contraddice la verità dogmatica sull’autorità dottrinale di un concilio ecumenico in quanto atto del magistero ecclesiastico che non può essere dettato o legittimato “dal basso”; i secondi (i conservatori o tradizionalisti più intransigenti) articolano questa medesima tesi sostenendo che alcune dottrine (a cominciare da quella riguardante la libertà religiosa) e alcuni orientamenti pastorali (l’ecumenismo e il dialogo con i non cristiani, soprattutto con gli ebrei) del Concilio costituiscono l’abbandono, da parte dei padri conciliari (incapaci di discernimento nei confronti delle teorie teologiche nuove che venivano loro proposte), della dottrina e della prassi che sempre prima di allora la Chiesa aveva mantenuto – il che contraddice la verità dogmatica sull’autorità dottrinale di un concilio ecumenico in quanto atto del magistero ecclesiastico che partecipa in qualche modo dell’infallibilità e quindi non può essere formalmente in errore in rebus fidei et morum, a meno che tale atto del magistero ecclesiastico non risultasse illegittimo, ossia che non sia stato convocato, presieduto e ratificato dal Romano Pontefice e non si sia svolto secondo le relative norme canoniche, cosa che per il Vaticano II non si può certamente asserire.

Altrettanto erronea è la tesi di chi va dicendo che il Vaticano II non ha insegnato alcuna dottrina dogmatica e morale, ma ha impostato la pastorale della Chiesa esclusivamente sulla base di esigenze di carità universale e di servizio all’uomo, il che comporta l’abbandono di ogni dogmatismo e di ogni condanna dottrinale da parte dell’autorità ecclesiastica. Questa interpretazione, che per certi teologi dovrebbe esprimere la vera natura (“pastorale”) e il vero “spirito” del Vaticano II, è illegittima, perché contraddice gli stessi testi conciliari; invano coloro che la difendono fanno ricorso (retoricamente, non certo scientificamente) all’autorità del papa Giovanni XXIII, visto che il suo discorso di indizione del Concilio, Gaudet mater Ecclesia, dice proprio il contrario e insiste sul compito che l’assise conciliare si attribuiva formalmente, che non era quello di mettere da parte l’insegnamento della dottrina cristiana tradizionale bensì quello di rendere più pastoralmente efficace questo insegnamento nelle circostanze storiche nelle quali la Chiesa si trovava ad operare.

E il suo immediato successore, il papa Paolo VI, ebbe a dire poco dopo la conclusione del Vaticano II: «L’apologia che gli autori eterodossi di moda fanno di Cristo si riduce ad ammettere in Lui “un uomo particolarmente buono”, “l’uomo per gli altri”, e così via, applicando a questa interpretazione di Cristo un criterio, diventato decisivo e dispotico, quello della capacità moderna a capirlo, ad avvicinarlo, a definirlo. Lo si misura col metro umano, con un dogmatismo soggettivo; e alla fine con uno scopo, seppur buono, ma utilitario, lo si accetta per quello che Cristo oggi può servire, uno scopo umanitario e sociologico» (Udienza Generale del 18 dicembre 1968).

Ecco dunque il giusto criterio di fede con il quale si deve orientare la coscienza dei fedeli quando si fa riferimento al Vaticano II: esso è un atto del Magistero che interessa la vita di fede dei cristiani per i suoi contenuti dottrinali e disciplinari, la cui retta interpretazione ? valida per tutti e non opinabile ? è fornita dal Magistero stesso, ogni qual volta la natura dei documenti stessi o le diverse circostanze storiche lo richiedano. Questa ermeneutica autorevole e pastoralmente necessaria, in effetti, non è mai mancata in questi cinquant’anni (prima con Paolo VI, poi con Giovanni Paolo II e oggi con Benedetto XVI). Al di fuori di questi “punti fermi”, tutto ciò che si presenta come ulteriore interpretazione va preso non come materia di fede o di obbedienza ecclesiale, ma come opinione privata, liberamente condivisibile, a patto che resti compatibile con quanto la Chiesa ha già sufficientemente chiarito, e a patto anche che nessuna opinione si presenti come l’unica verità che i credenti debbano accogliere. Il conflitto delle interpretazioni (opinabili) non deve ingenerare confusione dottrinale né deve incrinare l’unità della fede e l’unione nella carità di tutti i cattolici. Unità e unione che richiedono che nella coscienza dei fedeli resti sempre chiaro che non c’è nella Chiesa se non una sola fede e un solo Buon pastore: il quale non solo ci ha messi in guardia contro i falsi profeti e i cattivi maestri, ma ci ha dato anche il criterio sicuro per il retto discernimento.

The True Spirit of Vatican II - by Douglas Bushman

In CWR

 

As far as I know, no participant in the Second Vatican Council summed up its goals or described its spirit as addressing the question whether God’s truth and love are effective, that is, whether they have the power to steer men on a course conforming to their dignity. Nevertheless, the overarching question that the Council did address leads to this question. For the Council Fathers the question was: “Ecclesia, quid dicis de te ipsa? Church, what do you say about yourself?” The context of the question is determinative of the Council’s pastoral nature. The concern was not to produce a technical treatise of ecclesiology, but to respond to the spreading perception that the Church is no longer relevant, that it has nothing to offer to a humanity that has taken its future and the aspiration for a better world into its own hands.

Why the Council?

Just a few years after upheaval of World War II, with the Cold War coming to a head in the Cuban Missile Crisis, with historic revolutions taking place in technology, science, politics, economics, and culture, the Church found herself in a position similar to that of John the Baptist. He lived differently than his contemporaries, putting God first in every way, and he spoke with the authority of a prophet. He did this in the name of fidelity to the God who called him and fidelity to the vocation that God entrusted to him. He had a message, a lifestyle went with it, and a baptism of repentance that attracted great crowds. He could not be ignored. Everything about him provoked the question: “Quid dicis de te ipso? What do you say about yourself?” (Jn 1:22).

This is precisely the question put to the Church at the time of Vatican II: Can you give an account of yourself, of your convictions and values and way of life, at a time when these are increasingly at odds with the surrounding culture and increasingly treated as irrelevant?

Could a Church that was so old, that had been there all along the way and evidently did not prevent the unprecedented assaults on human dignity of the twentieth century, make a credible case that it has something positive to offer? If, in looking to the past, this Church must acknowledge that its own members contributed to division among Christians and to a defensive, even hostile stance in relation to science and the modern democratic states, can this Church dare to say that it is not only not part of the problem but has a solution to offer? Is it not audacious for this Church, and thus contrary to the humility that it professes, to say to the world, in the words of Pope Paul VI: “I have that for which you search, that which you lack” (Ecclesiam Suam, 95)?

The Church’s response to the crisis of humanity as it manifested itself in the middle of the twentieth century parallels what John’s Gospel says about the Baptist: “He came for testimony, to bear witness to the light, that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to bear witness to the light. The true light that enlightens every man was coming into the world” (Jn 1:7-9). The first words of the Council’s central document on the Church begin with this theme.

Christ is the Light of nations. Because this is so, this Sacred Synod gathered together in the Holy Spirit eagerly desires, by proclaiming the Gospel to every creature, to bring the light of Christ to all men, a light brightly visible on the countenance of the Church (Lumen gentium, 1).

The Church’s mission is to point to Christ. She does this most effectively by reflecting His eternal light, and that light shines especially conspicuously in times of darkness. In his encyclical convoking the Council, Humanae salutis, Pope John XXIII envisioned that the Council would result in “vivifying the temporal order with the light of Christ.” The brutalities of the twentieth century had demonstrated what can happen in the name of progress and development that deliberately exclude any reference to God and set themselves against the Church. This could only constitute an urgent call for the Church, who knows when men do not acknowledge God neither are they able to acknowledge human dignity or set any limits to their own power and action. What was needed was a counter-demonstration.

The Church cannot sit on the sidelines, nor can she expend all of her energies in self-defense. It is true for the more than three centuries her contemporaries have distanced themselves from her. She has lost her privileged place in society as the dominant influence in men’s lives at least in part because they have become enamored with themselves, their thinking, their technology, their systems, all of which appear to be more relevant for daily life than an antiquated faith. Yet, it is also true that the Church had to examine her conscience[1] to ask if she has in any way contributed to this modern divorce. For, unlike God, whose charity and pedagogy are perfect, the Church’s members are subject to any number of deficiencies and limited prudence.

The Church can allow neither her members’ sins nor the destructive lust for autonomy of those who disregard her to have the last word. Her missionary mandate is not contingent on perfection, though she cannot cease to strive for it, but on humility and trust in God. Despite the difficulties, she desires “to contribute more effica­ciously to the solution of the problems of the modern age.” For this to occur, “This supernatural order must, however, reflect its efficiency in the other order, the temporal one.” He would repeat this in his opening address: “If this doctrine is to make its impact on the various spheres of human activity—in private, family and social life—then it is absolutely vital that the Church shall never for an instant lose sight of that sacred patrimony of truth inherited from the Fathers” (Opening Speech).

The whole purpose of the Council, Pope John insisted, was to respond to the problems of mankind by bearing witness to the light of Christ. Nowhere did he make this clearer than in a radio broadcast exactly one month prior to the Council’s opening. According to Cardinal Bea, who was appointed by Pope John as head of the Secretariat for Christian Unity and played an influential role during the Council, “Pope John has told us that the first idea of the Council came to him in connection with the problems concerning all men and particularly that of peace.”[2] The Pope’s radio broadcast was “a solemn warning” occasioned by a review of the documents that had been prepared for the Council. In the message the Pope identified “a whole series of world problems to be debated by the Council, but which in fact were not dealt with in the nearly seventy schemata” that had been drafted in preparation for Vatican II. [3]

In the Pope’s own words: “The world has its problems, for which it anxiously seeks a solution.” “These problems of very acute gravity have always had their place in the heart of the Church.” He was not content to identify the obvious spheres of problems, which would later be taken up by the Council. In the spirit of a good shepherd, which would become the spirit of the Council, Pope John identified the root issue: “The terms of the conflict, good and evil, remain and will last into the future, because the human will will always have freedom to express itself and the possibility to go astray.”[4]

In one way or another, all of the signs of the times are manifestations of this interior condition of man. The Church calls this sin, and she knows that the only answer to the problem of sin is redemption in Christ. Thus, Pope John stated in the same radio broadcast:

But from Christ and His Church will come the final and eternal victory in each soul of the elect of every people.… from all the points of the earth, the Church of Jesus responds: Deo gratias, Deo gratias, as if to say: “Yes: lumen Christi: lumen Ecclesiae: lumen gentium.”

Here, in its essence, is the true spirit of Vatican II.[5] It is the conviction of faith that there is one and only one Light that can dispel the darkness of sin and thus overcome sin’s consequences. The Church’s vocation is to reflect this light so that it can be seen by the nations of men. The way that she accomplishes this, at a time when her contemporaries and even many among her own members are unable to perceive it, is by intensifying its brightness. This is achieved by the Church engaging in a profound renewal of herself. Through a conversion intended to bring about an even greater and more conspicuous conformity to Christ, the world would have placed before it an alternative vision of human fulfillment and happiness that constitutes the answer to its problems, perplexities, and anxieties. The mechanism of this renewal, the method by which the Church would increase its participation in the life of Christ, is the key to understand that the underlying issue at stake at Vatican II was that of the efficacy of God’s love.

What Difference Does Believing Make?

Before turning to consider this renewal, it should be pointed out that Pope John was not alone in viewing the Council as the Church’s response to the problems and crisis of humanity. We can thank George Weigel for summarizing the contribution of a young Polish bishop in his response to the worldwide survey of bishops, directed by Pope John in 1959, as preparation for the Council.[6] For Bishop Wojtyla, the challenge the Church faced in the Council was “to present the sacred in such manner as seems entirely fitting to the men of today.” In other words, the Church needs to show that, how, and why Christian doctrine is relevant to man’s questions, to his search for fullness of meaning, and to his aspirations for a better world more worthy of human dignity. This is what would constitute the pastoral character of Vatican II.[7] Weigel writes:

The crucial issue of the times, he suggested, was the human person… The world wanted to hear what the Church had to say about the human person and the human condition, particularly in light of other proposals – “scientific, positivist, dialectical” – that imagined themselves humanistic and presented themselves as roads to liberation. At the end of 2,000 years of Christian history, the world had a question to put to the Church: What was Christian humanism and how was it different from the sundry other humanisms on offer in late modernity? What was the Church’s answer to modernity’s widespread “despair [about] any and all human existence”?

The crisis of humanism at the midpoint of a century that prided itself on its humanism should be the organizing framework for the Council’s deliberations, Bishop Wojtyla proposed. The Church did not exist for itself. The Church existed for the salvation of a world in which the promise of the world’s humanization through material means had led, time and again, to dehumanization and degradation.

What was singular and, to use an abused term in its proper sense, prophetic about Wojtyla’s proposal was its insistence that the question of a humanism adequate to the aspirations of the men and women of the age had to be the epicenter of the Council’s concerns. There would be much talk before, during, and after the Council about “reading the signs of the times.” Here was a thirty-nine-year-old bishop who, having done precisely that, had put his finger on the deepest wound of his century so that it could be healed by a more compelling proclamation of the Gospel. [8]

The Council was pastoral in the way that it set forth doctrine. It was not content simply to answer the question, “What does the Church believe?” Rather, presupposing and building on the answer to this question, it wanted to answer another question: “What difference does believing make?” The challenge the Council took up was to present doctrine in such a way that people could perceive, with the help of God’s grace, of course, that revealed truth possesses the power to give life a new direction. Neglecting what the Church has to say because it is was considered irrelevant, modern man was turning to any number of alternatives, which could not satisfy his deepest desires. The Gospel that the Church offers is the truth that sets man free from incomplete, erroneous, and consequently degrading visions of human fulfillment that are in the end only pseudo-humanisms. At Vatican II the Church set forth her doctrine in relation to man’s God-given dynamism to seek the full meaning of his life. This is what I call the apologetics of meaning.

The Apologetic of Meaning

This particular apologetics corresponds to an element of Pope John’s vision for the Council. In his opening address he stated that the Council would not publish condemnations as previous councils did. It is not that the condemnation of errors is not a legitimate and necessary exercise of apostolic teaching authority. Pope John was aware of this magisterium of condemnation. He was convinced that the Church had defended her patrimony of apostolic doctrine. “The Church has always opposed these errors, and often condemned them with the utmost severity.” Presupposing the clarification of truth, he judged that “present needs are best served by explaining more fully the purport of her doctrines, rather than by publishing condemnations.”

This emphasis on explanation is best understood in light of the distinction between error and the one in error. Adapting the well-known distinction between sin and sinner, one can say that an element of the true spirit of Vatican II is to hate the error while loving those in error. A passage from the encyclical, Pacem in terris (April, 1963), can serve as a commentary.

It is always perfectly justifiable to distinguish between error as such and the person who falls into error—even in the case of men who err regarding the truth or are led astray as a result of their inadequate knowledge, in matters either of religion or of the highest ethical standards. A man who has fallen into error does not cease to be a man. He never forfeits his personal dignity; and that is something that must always be taken into account. Besides, there exists in man’s very nature an undying capacity to break through the barriers of error and seek the road to truth. God, in His great providence, is ever present with His aid.[9]

In his closing address, Pope Paul VI picked up on this theme of his predecessor’s opening address. He acknowledged that while the Council did indeed condemn a number of errors, these were not so much errors against revealed truth but errors opposed to the truth about the human person and human dignity. For example, the Council condemned racism, genocide, slavery, and the curtailment of religious liberty. In fidelity to Pope John’s intention, the Council was not content to stop there. “Errors were condemned, indeed, because charity demanded this no less than did truth, but for the persons themselves there was only warning, respect and love.”

It is lamentable that after the Council many people perceived this respect for persons and the desire to persuade by explaining as a sign of weakness and even a readiness to compromise on the truth. Certainly, the rotten fruit of compromise—that is, of accommodating the truth rather than merely the manner in which the truth is expressed—that accompanied unenlightened attempts to engage in dialogue gave good reason for well-informed people to be leery. Yet, the Holy Spirit exhorts the Church, through St. Peter: “Always be prepared to make a defense to any one who calls you to account for the hope that is in you, yet do it with gentleness and reverence” (1 Pet 3:15). Vatican II may be thought of as the response of the Church of the mid-twentieth century to this divine mandate.

As the sports-wise say, the best defense is a good offense. The apologetics of meaning is the most effective offense and the most powerful apologia for the faith. The reason for this is that what God has revealed in Christ constitutes an appeal to free will, which is moved by the truth, beauty, and goodness of Christ’s life and of the doctrine that puts that life into words. He is the perfect man (see Gaudium et spes, 22, 38, 45), and those who seek Him do so precisely because they seek to be fully human: “Whoever follows after Christ, the perfect man, becomes himself more of a man” (Gaudium et spes, 41). The light of the Perfect Man in communion with God is reflected in the saints, who by grace participate in Christ’s life.

The Council defied the secularism of the age, which was not content merely to promote a humanism without reference to God so that men lived as if God did not exist, but became aggressively anti-Christian and unleashed new waves of persecution. Secularism was the chief error of the age that the Council condemned, not just in isolated assertions, but in the totality of its message. Taking the offensive, it corrected the error of secularism by insisting that any philosophy or promotion of human dignity that neglects man’s natural religious dynamisms offers only an illusory hope for a better future. Man is made for communion with the holy God, and the holiness of the saints puts the full truth about human dignity on display. For, “by this holiness as such a more human manner of living is promoted in this earthly society” (Lumen gentium, 40).

The Witness of the Saints

Divine revelation occurs through the interaction of actions and words that mutually complement and interpret one another (see Dei Verbum, 2). It stands to reason, then, that its reflected light in the Church should be perceptible through the lives of saints and the words that signify the doctrinal truths by which the saints live. The numerous blesseds beatified and saints canonized by Pope John Paul II may be thought of as the divine stamp of approval on the magisterium of Vatican II. The same Holy Spirit Who guided the Council’s work and to Whom its final teaching “seemed good” (Acts 15:28) raises up saints who show us precisely what doctrine lived looks like, setting the good of a fully human life before all those who seek precisely such a meaningful existence. “The very testimony of their Christian life and good works done in a supernatural spirit have the power to draw men to belief and to God; for the Lord says, ‘Even so let your light shine before men in order that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven’ (Matt 5:16)” (Apostolicam actuositatem, 6).

The saints’ integrity of life and heroic virtue demonstrate that God’s love is efficacious. They are not self-made men and women. In humility they confess their sins and profess the saving grace of God. They know that they are what they are by God’s mercy, making their own the words of St. Paul: “by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me was not in vain” (1 Cor 15:10). At Vatican II the Church not only presented Christ as the Perfect Man and His Mother and the saints as models of a fully human life. It also taught that the Church is the place where the grace to enter into this fullness of meaning is available. Thus, through the Church, Christ “opens up to man at the same time the meaning of his own existence, that is, the innermost truth about himself.” This corresponds to what man needs, since “man will always yearn to know, at least in an obscure way, what is the meaning of his life, of his activity, of his death” (Gaudium et spes, 41). By living the new life of Baptism, Christians bear witness to “the real meaning of human life” (Ad gentes, 11) because they participate in the fullness of the meaning of life revealed in the Perfect Man.

The True Spirit of Catholicism

Throughout his pontificate, Pope John Paul II steadfastly kept his commitment to implement the Council by developing this apologetics of meaning. His two great meditations on the encounter between Jesus and the rich young man, Dilecti amici and the first part of Veritatis splendor, set forth the essentials of the dynamic dialogue between man and God occasioned by man’s search for meaning. Most recently, the Synod of Bishops on the New Evangelization began its Message to the People of God by proclaiming that the Church continues Christ’s mission by accompanying mankind in its search for meaning.

Let us draw light from a Gospel passage: Jesus’ encounter with the Samaritan woman (cf. John 4:5-42). There is no man or woman who, in one’s life, would not find oneself like the woman of Samaria beside a well with an empty bucket, with the hope of finding the fulfillment of the heart’s most profound desire, that which alone could give full meaning to existence. Today, many wells offer themselves to quench humanity’s thirst, but we must discern in order to avoid polluted waters. We must orient the search well, so as not to fall prey to disappointment, which can be disastrous.

Like Jesus at the well of Sychar, the Church also feels obliged to sit beside today’s men and women. She wants to render the Lord present in their lives so that they could encounter him because he alone is the water that gives true and eternal life. Only Jesus can read the depths of our heart and reveal the truth about ourselves: “ He told me everything I have done”, the woman confesses to her fellow citizens. This word of proclamation is united to the question that opens up to faith: “Could he possibly be the Messiah?” It shows that whoever receives new life from encountering Jesus cannot but proclaim truth and hope to others. The sinner who was converted becomes a messenger of salvation and leads the whole city to Jesus. The people pass from welcoming her testimony to personally experiencing the encounter: “We no longer believe because of your word; for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the savior of the world”.

At the outset of the Year of Faith and fifty years after the Council began, a text like this demonstrates the Church’s commitment fully to appropriate the true spirit of Vatican II. This spirit is nothing other than the spirit of Catholicism itself, of the Church guided by the Holy Spirit, discovering anew its divinely assured attribute of catholicity and committing herself to accept all of the responsibilities that come with it. If catholicity received an especial attention at Vatican II, an attentive reading of the conciliar texts confirms that this mark of catholicity was never disjoined from the complementary marks of unity, holiness, and apostolicity, without which it cannot be the catholicity willed by Christ; a reinvigoration of the Church’s missionary mandate cannot fail to entail a deepening of every aspect of her mystery. The renewal of Vatican II was and remains comprehensive. Its fruit of holiness and unity in the truth of apostolic teaching is verified by a New Evangelization that takes the form of a ministry of accompaniment as the Church makes Christ present to all men and women in their search for life-giving, that is, meaning-giving water.

Love, Joy, and Renewal

With this we arrive at the decisive point at which to grasp how the pastoral and missionary spirit of Vatican II is linked to the question of the efficacy of God’s love. The fullness of life in Christ, the joy of living in the certainty of being loved (see CCC, 2778), and most especially the capacity to love that is the gift of Christ to His disciples simultaneously stir the hopes of mankind regarding their aspirations and point to the grace of God as its cause. As the Council taught, the Church is both a sign and an instrument of life in Christ (see Lumen gentium, 1).

Pope Benedict has made Christian joy a central theme of his pontificate and of the Year of Faith in particular. In this he shows the continuity of his pontificate with that of his predecessor, John Paul II, and through him with Paul VI and Vatican II. Joy is the language of human happiness. A fruit of the Holy Spirit (see Gal 5:22), it accompanies the faith that receives the Good News of God’s love fully revealed in Jesus Christ. As Cardinal Ratzinger once said, joy is a proper name of the Holy Spirit. It points to the awareness among those of mature faith that they have received the Gift of gifts, that they have encountered Christ in their search for meaning and now, through Him and by the gift of the Holy Spirit, are in possession of that meaning. By God’s mercy they have come into possession of the pearl of great price, the treasure hidden in a field. Their song of joy is that of the Blessed Virgin: “He who is mighty has done great things for me” (Lk 1:49). Joy bears witness to the fact that God’s love is performative and transformative, that the Paschal Mystery has changed the course of history by changing the hearts of men who are the agents that give history its direction.

This explains why the Council Fathers focused their attention on the Church’s renewal of herself. The most effective way to make the message about a fully human life in Christ credible is to demonstrate that by the grace of God it is attainable. This will be proof of the efficacy of God’s love. Thus, prior to any of its officially promulgated documents, in its Message to Humanity (Oct 20, 1962), the Council Fathers wrote: “we wish to inquire how we ought to renew ourselves, so that we may be found increasingly faithful to the gospel of Christ.” Paul VI put it this way: “Our intense desire is to see the Church become what Christ intended it to be: one, holy, and entirely dedicated to the pursuit of that perfection to which Christ called it and for which He qualified it” (Ecclesiam Suam, 41).

Pope John Paul II would carry this theme forward by saying that in order for the Church to be an evangelizing community she must first be an evangelized community. Before the Church can play a role in leading others to conversion the faithful must be converted. This humble recognition of the need for the Church to renew itself was also repeated at the recent Synod on the New Evangelization:

We, however, should never think that the new evangelization does not concern us personally. In these days voices among the Bishops were raised to recall that the Church must first of all heed the Word before she could evangelize the world. The invitation to evangelize becomes a call to conversion.

Pope Paul outlined the renewal of Vatican II in his first encyclical, Ecclesiam Suam. It is popularly known as Paths of the Church because in a general audience just days before it was released the Pope himself said that it could be called ‘Paths of the Church’ because it sets forth the three paths the Church must follow in order to renew herself. The first path “concerns the consciousness of itself that the Church must have and nourish. The second is moral. It concerns the ascetic, practical, canonical renewal, which the Church needs in order to conform to the consciousness just mentioned, in order to be pure, holy, strong, and authentic. The third path is apostolic. And We have designated it with a term in vogue today: dialogue. This path concerns the manner, art, and style that the Church must instill in her ministerial activities in the dissonant, changing, complex concert of the contemporary world.”

More succinctly, in the encyclical itself, Pope Paul summarized its movement: “She [the Church] must learn to know herself better [consciousness], if she wishes to live her own proper vocation [renewal] and to offer to the world her message of brotherhood and of salvation [dialogue] (Ecclesiam Suam, 25).

The Call to Conversion

The main desire of the Council was to reinvigorate the Church’s mission of promoting a fully human life in Christ. Pope Paul and the Council Fathers realized that this mission could only be the fruit of holiness and of a fervent, paschal charity. “To this internal drive of charity which seeks expression in the external gift of charity, We will apply the word ‘dialogue’” (Ecclesiam Suam, 64). Greater conformity to Christ through conversion brings about a more intense love for God and for all those whom God loves. Such a perfect love is the condition for continuing the mission of Christ. Such charity is the soul of the apostolate (see Lumen gentium, 33 and Apostolicam actuositatem, 3). The Council Fathers were not naïve about the nature of this charity. The Eucharist is the source of its vitality, and this means that it is necessary paschal (see Lumen gentium, 42). Only this kind of self-giving love, only a charity that loves “to the end” (Jn 13:1) is strong enough to make the sacrifices required to love those who are in the most need of being loved, even the Church’s persecutors.

The renewal of conversion presupposes doctrine, which gives conversion its objective orientation. The whole purpose of conversion is to root out all that does not conform to doctrine. Conversion is the Church’s cooperation with the grace of God in building a civilization of love, one soul at a time. To convert is to turn away from all that is opposed to the truth that gives content to God’s love in order to receive that love and to be transformed into God’s likeness by participating more fully in the life of the Perfect Man.

The fruit of this renewal is mission and service. It is participation in the love, mission, and service of the Perfect Man. This is the New Evangelization. At the outset of the Council, the Message to Humanity stated that “faith, hope, and the love of Christ impel us to serve our brothers, thereby patterning ourselves after the example of the Divine Teacher, who ‘came not to be served but to serve’ (Matt 20:28). Hence, the Church too was not born to dominate but to serve. He laid down His life for us, and we too ought to lay down our lives for our brothers (cf. 1 Jn 3:16).”

As a bookend to this, at the end of the Council Pope Paul summed up the true spirit of Vatican II in these words:

The old story of the Samaritan has been the model of the spirituality of the council. A feeling of boundless sympathy has permeated the whole of it. The attention of our council has been absorbed by the discovery of human needs (and these needs grow in proportion to the greatness which the son of the earth claims for himself).… all this rich teaching is channeled in one direction, the service of mankind, of every condition, in every weakness and need. The Church has, so to say, declared herself the servant of humanity, at the very time when her teaching role and her pastoral government have, by reason of the council’s solemnity, assumed greater splendor and vigor: the idea of service has been central.[10]

Because the mission to serve and the dialogue of the New Evangelization depend upon the renewal of conversion and this depends on doctrinal awareness, nothing could more fundamentally thwart the Council’s aspiration for a revitalized mission (a New Evangelization) than confusion about doctrine.

Pope John XXIII and Pope Paul VI repeatedly insisted on fidelity to the apostolic tradition as the foundation of the conciliar renewal. Yet, following the Council, and laying claim to its spirit, theological investigation profoundly unsettled the firm convictions of the faithful. Doubts about the consciousness Jesus had of His divine personhood, mission, and founding of the Church, about universally binding moral precepts, mortal sin, and sexual morality, about the unicity of Christ and the Church, about the Eucharist, and more, colluded to undermine the very foundation of conversion. How can the Church’s members become more perfectly what they are if they lack a clear vision of God’s will? And how likely is it that they will embrace the baptismal vocation to die with Christ to sin if they lack a solid conviction regarding revealed truth?

A Deeper Understanding of Doctrine

In this Year of Faith on the occasion of the fiftieth anniversary of Vatican II, one of the most pressing needs in the Church is to enter more fully into the outline of the conciliar renewal set forth by Paul VI in Ecclesiam Suam. Pope John Paul II said it himself: “In our time, as we look towards the third millennium, it [Ecclesiam Suam] should be re-read with greater attention and deeper understanding in order to grasp its full prophetic value and to implement the Council’s directives in the best way” (Angelus, Aug 2, 1998). Particularly significant is the fact that the first path or dimension of renewal is doctrinal awareness. This is what Pope John called doctrinal penetration. In his well-know address of December 22, 2005, Pope Benedict echoed this when he said the Council’s pastoral aggiornamento with respect to doctrine is not a matter of updating for its own sake. Rather, it is the fruit of a deeper understanding of doctrine resulting from a greater depth of living it, that is, of conforming to it through conversion.

It is clear that this commitment to expressing a specific truth in a new way demands new thinking on this truth and a new and vital relationship with it; it is also clear that new words can only develop if they come from an informed understanding of the truth expressed, and on the other hand, that a reflection on faith also requires that this faith be lived. In this regard, the program that Pope John XXIII proposed was extremely demanding.

Since Vatican II, the three dimensions of renewal of Ecclesiam Suam have been institutionalized in the form of three dimensions of formation for seminarians, deacons, religious, catechists, and laity. These are almost invariably named doctrinal (or theological formation), spiritual formation, and pastoral formation. When doctrine does not provide the principles for spiritual and pastoral formation, its relevance is undermined and a genuine crisis ensues. When spiritual formation sidesteps doctrine and emphasized techniques and methods of prayer, often imported from outside the Catholic tradition, it thereby implies that doctrine is irrelevant to the spiritual life. In reality, the spiritual life and the life of prayer and conversion are nothing other than doctrine internalized, appropriated, and fully assimilate and embedded in one’s consciousness so that one’s very identity is inseparable from that doctrine.

Catholic spirituality, properly understood and lived, is an ongoing liberation from sin into love by the power of God’s Word. When formation for ministry, apostolate, mission, and service places the accent on organization, programs, and models crafted by human inventiveness, then doctrine appears extraneous and again irrelevant.

At the Second Vatican Council, the Church reiterated her conviction that the Eucharist is the source and summit of Christian life and spirituality, and the vital source of renewal and of mission. Yet, when spiritual formation and pastoral formation are not sufficiently grounded in doctrine, such a Eucharist-centered renewal cannot take effect. The crisis of Eucharistic faith and devotion in the Church has been the most distressing indicator the post-conciliar deviations from the doctrine-based renewal envisioned by Pope John and elaborated by Pope Paul. The latter was not unaware of the grave aberrations that would result if mission (dialogue, service, New Evangelization) and spiritual renewal through conversion were disjoined from doctrinal awareness. He wrote that “an immoderate desire” for what might be described as quick results from the mission of dialogue could only be a desire “to make peace and sink differences at all costs (irenism and syncretism).”

He does not say it, but it is clear that he realized that we have no right to expect fruit without suffering, without embracing the spirituality of the grain of wheat that must fall and die in order to bear fruit. In other words, the path is a paschal one. Any attempt to promote the Church’s mission without this “is ultimately nothing more than skepticism about the power and content of the Word of God which we desire to preach. The effective apostle is the man who is completely faithful to Christ’s teaching. He alone can remain unaffected by the errors of the world around him, the man who lives his Christian life to the full” (Ecclesiam Suam, 88).

Has not such a skepticism about the power of doctrinal truth to renewal the Church and the face of the earth been a lamentable sign of the times in so much of the pseudo-renewal that has not been faithful to the spirit and the letter of Vatican II? If people are not thoroughly convinced in the power of truth to save and to reshape the lives of men for their authentic fulfillment and happiness in Christ, then it stands to reason that will turn elsewhere, that they will place their hopes for a new springtime for the Church in something other than doctrine.

What is the remedy for pseudo-renewals that neglect doctrine as the foundation? Conversion! Personal conversion, the personal experience of the liberating power of divinely revealed truth and the saving efficacy of the grace of Christ that comes to us through the sacraments, the charisms, and the communion of saints – this is the source of the conviction that this truth and grace are the hope for humanity. Conversion brings the wisdom to know that if methods, techniques, and programs are have a place and to some extent are simply necessary, truth and grace are what is essential. Conversion assures that the order of means will not take precedence over the end. Through the deep conversion of being renewed by the truth, love, and grace of Christ people know by experience how to love others. Their mission is simple: to bring the light of Christ to those who live in darkness. They are able to love as they have been loved.

This conversion, then, is the heart of the renewal of Vatican II, and the key the New Evangelization that is its main goal. Conversion is the greatest witness to the efficacy of divine love. Through conversion the doctrine of God’s merciful love becomes more than a truth to be known. It becomes the key to life’s meaning. Those who are transformed by God’s love profess that love because God has revealed it and because by revealing it He has exercised it in their behalf. To profess faith in Christ means not only to say, “I believe what God has made known about His love.” It also means that one can say: “I have been the beneficiary of that love. I have been loved.” To paraphrase a verse of St. Paul: The Spirit himself bears witness to God’s love in our hearts so that our own spirit bears witness with Him that we have been loved by God (see Rom 8:16).

History, Hope, and Holiness

In one of the most important studies of the apologetic pastoral theology of Vatican II, René Latourelle wrote: “If Christianity cannot show in practice this change in the human condition, it confesses its failure.”[11] He could have put it this way: If those who are baptized live “like the other nations” (1 Sam 8:5, 20), if the values that drive their decisions are different than those of the surrounding culture, if there is no joy and if genuine Eucharistic spirituality is absent, then what difference does Christian faith make? By implication, this raises the question about God and His love: Does God make any difference? Does His love have any effect?

To what can the Church point in order to make the argument that God is directing history, that His love is impactful? The Second Vatican Council took up this question, which derives from the preceding questions. Cardinal Ratzinger once put it this way: “This is precisely what the Second Vatican Council had intended: to endow Christianity once more with the power to shape history.”[12] Christianity shapes history through the reshaping of the freedom of the agent of history, man. It shapes history by proclaiming the Good News about God’s love, by offering the examples of the saints, and by making available the transforming grace of God’s love in the sacraments. More than anything else, it is holiness and the ongoing conversion into holiness that bears witness to the efficacy of God’s love and gives hope to humanity that its genuine aspirations for a fully meaningful life are not an illusion but can be fulfilled. This is why both Pope Paul VI and Pope John Paul II summarized the renewal of Vatican II in the call to holiness:

This strong invitation to holiness could be regarded as the most characteristic element in the whole Magisterium of the Council, and so to say, its ultimate purpose.[13]

The Second Vatican Council has significantly spoken on the universal call to holiness. It is possible to say that this call to holiness is precisely the basic charge entrusted to all the sons and daughters of the Church by a Council which intended to bring a renewal of Christian life based on the Gospel ( Chrisfideles laici, 16).

ENDNOTES:

[1] “The Council understood itself as a great examination of conscience by the Church;[1] it wanted ultimately to be an act of penance, of conversion” (Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, Principles of Catholic Theology. San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 371-373). Thinking of the Council as an examination of conscience originates, as far as I know, with the Lenten Pastoral Letter of Cardinal Montini (later to be Paul VI) of February 22, 1962.

[2] The Church and Mankind. Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1967, 3.

[3] Ibid., 4.

[4] In his first encyclical, Pope John Paul II would echo this: “It was precisely this man in all the truth of his life, in his conscience, in his continual inclination to sin and at the same time in his continual aspiration to truth, the good, the beautiful, justice and love that the Second Vatican Council had before its eyes when, in outlining his situation in the modern world, it always passed from the external elements of this situation to the truth within humanity” (Redemptor hominis, 14). John Paul continues by quoting from Gaudium et spes, 10: “In man himself many elements wrestle with one another. Thus, on the one hand, as a creature he experiences his limitations in a multitude of ways. On the other, he feels himself to be boundless in his desires and summoned to a higher life. Pulled by manifold attractions, he is constantly forced to choose among them and to renounce some. Indeed, as a weak and sinful being, he often does what he would not, and fails to do what he would. Hence he suffers from internal divisions, and from these flow so many and such great discords in society.

[5] According to Pope John’s secretary, this radio address “stands as perhaps the most complete indication of John’s thinking on the direction the Council should take” (Capovilla, Loris, “Reflections on the Twentieth Anniversary,” in Vatican II Revisited by Those Who Were There. Minneapolis, MN: Winston Press, 1986, 119).

[6] See Witness to Hope. The Biography of Pope John Paul II (New York: Cliff Street Books, HarperCollins, 1999), 158-160.

[7] See the well-known passage of the opening address to the Council of Pope John XXIII.

[8] George Weigel, Witness to Hope. The Biography of Pope John Paul II (New York: Cliff Street Books, HarperCollins, 1999), 158-160.

[9] John XXIII, Pacem in terris, 158.

[10] Pope Paul VI, Closing Speech of December 7, 1965. Are the four mentions of the Good Samaritan by Pope Benedict in his first encyclical, Deus caritas est, a mere coincidence? Or, are they a deliberate way for him to link his pontificate with Vatican II as understood by Paul VI?

[11] Christ and the Church, Signs of Salvation, 59.

[12] Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, “Introduction to Christianity, Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow,” in Communio 31, n. 3, (2004), 482.

[13] Sanctitatis clarior, Motu proprio of March 19, 1969; AAS 61(1969), 149.

The Sin of Sodom and Gomorrah is not about “Hospitality” - by Msgr. Charles Pope

In AW 
 

Late last week on the blog the I made mention of the sins that “cry to heaven for vengeance.” The traditional list, is summarized in the Catechism which states The catechetical tradition also recalls that there are “sins that cry to heaven”: the blood of Abel, the sin of the Sodomites, the cry of the people oppressed in Egypt, the cry of the foreigner, the widow, and the orphan, injustice to the wage earner (# 1867).

It probably does not surprise you that I got push-back from certain homosexuals who wrote in to “remind” me that the sin of Sodom “has nothing to do with homosexual acts, or homosexual rape. Rather,” they said, “It is only about violations of hospitality rules of the ancient near east.”

I did not post these comments since I did not have time then to deal with this oft heard but very mistaken notion about the story of Sodom and Gomorrah in Genesis 19. But the meaning of the story is not unclear, and attempts to radically reinterpret the fundamental issue at the core of the story, tell us more about the struggle of the “interpreter” than of the story which has a rather plain, unambiguous meaning. The sin, the abomination, of Sodom, while not excluding any number of injustices, is clearly set forth as widespread homosexual practice.

When interpreting the meaning of a passage we do well to look not only to the plain meaning of the text, but also to other Biblical texts that may refer back to it and help clarify any ambiguities. In this text we can do both.

So first let’s look at the text itself as set forth:

Then the Lord said, “The outcry against Sodom and Gomorrah is so great and their sin so grievous that I will go down and see if what they have done is as bad as the outcry that has reached me. If not, I will know.” The men turned away and went toward Sodom….The two arrived at Sodom in the evening, and Lot was sitting in the gateway of the city. When he saw them, he got up to meet them and bowed down with his face to the ground. “My lords,” he said, “please turn aside to your servant’s house. You can wash your feet and spend the night and then go on your way early in the morning.” “No,” they answered, “we will spend the night in the square.” But he insisted so strongly that they did go with him and entered his house. He prepared a meal for them, baking bread without yeast, and they ate. Before they had gone to bed, all the men from every part of the city of Sodom—both young and old—surrounded the house. They called to Lot, “Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us so that we can have sex with them.” Lot went outside to meet them and shut the door behind him and said, “No, my friends. Don’t do this wicked thing. Look, I have two daughters who have never slept with a man. Let me bring them out to you, and you can do what you like with them. But don’t do anything to these men, for they have come under the protection of my roof.” “Get out of our way,” they replied. And they said, “This fellow came here as an alien, and now he wants to play the judge! We’ll treat you worse than them.” They kept bringing pressure on Lot and moved forward to break down the door. But the men inside reached out and pulled Lot back into the house and shut the door. Then they struck the men who were at the door of the house, young and old, with blindness so that they could not find the door. The two men said to Lot, “Do you have anyone else here—sons-in-law, sons or daughters, or anyone else in the city who belongs to you? Get them out of here,because we are going to destroy this place. The outcry to the Lord against its people is so great that he has sent us to destroy it.” (Genesis 18:20-22; 19:1-13)

Now those who want to argue that this text is vague in meaning, begin by stating that the phrase “have sex with them” is more literally rendered from the Hebrew as “that we may know them.” And it is true that the Hebrew word יָדַע (yada) is rendered “know.” But this word is also a Hebrew idiom for carnal knowledge. For example in Genesis 4:1 we read: Now Adam knew (yada) Eve his wife, and she conceived and bore Cain, saying, “I have gotten a man with the help of the LORD.”

That the carnal knowledge meaning is intended here is also made clear in the context of what follows. Lot first calls their proposal a “wicked thing.” But just getting to know someone, or to greet a stranger, is not a wicked thing. Further that unlawful carnal knowledge is meant is also made clear in that Lot (horrifyingly) proposes that they have sex instead with his daughters “who have never slept with a man” (i.e. his virgin daughters).

It is true that Lot is further motivated by the fact that these men (angels in disguise) are under his care. But that does not change the nature of the threat that is involved, namely homosexual seduction or rape.

Being unable to dissuade “all the men from every part of the city of Sodom—both young and old” from the attempt at homosexual seduction, Lot is pulled to safety by the the two angelic visitors who tell Lot to get ready to go since they have come to destroy the city.

Now to the average reader who does not need to be defensive, the text conveys a clear message of widespread homosexuality in Sodom, a fact rather bluntly confirmed by the angelic visitors. And this is the clear emphasis of the story, not hospitality norms or other secondary concepts.

However, it may help to confirm this fact in other texts of the Bible and to legitimately ask if this is the only sin involved. Two texts are most specifically helpful in this regard. First there is a text from Ezekiel:

Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy. They were haughty and did abominable things before me. Therefore I did away with them as you have seen. (Ezekiel 16:49-50)

Now this is the text used most often by those who deny any homosexual context in the sin of Sodom. And, to be fair, it does add a dimension to the outcry God hears. There are clearly additional sins at work in the outcry: pride, excess or greed, and indifference to the poor and needy. But there are also mentioned here unspecified “abominations.” The Hebrew word is תּוֹעֵבָ֖ה (tō·w·‘ê·ḇāh) which refers to any number of things God considers especially detestable, such as worshiping idols, immolating children, wrongful marriage and also homosexual acts. For example, Leviticus 18:22 uses the word in this context: Do not lie with a man as one lies with a woman; it is an abomination.

But of itself, this text from Ezekiel does remind us that widespread homosexuality is not the only sin of Sodom. And while the abomination mentioned here may not be specified exactly, there is another Scriptural text that does specify things more clearly for us. It is from the Letter of Jude:

In a similar way, Sodom and Gomorrah and the surrounding towns gave themselves up to sexual immorality and perversion. They serve as an example of those who suffer the punishment of eternal fire. In the very same way, these dreamers pollute their own bodies, reject authority and slander celestial beings. (Jude 7-8)

And thus it is specified that the central sin of Sodom involved “sexual immorality (ἐκπορνεύσασαι) and perversion (ἀπελθοῦσαι ὀπίσω σαρκὸς ἑτέρας – literally having departed to strange or different flesh).” And this would comport with the description of widespread homosexual practice in Sodom wherein the practitioners of this sin are described in Genesis 19 as including, “all the men from every part of the city of Sodom—both young and old.”

Hence we see that, while we should avoid seeing the sin of Sodom as only widespread homosexual acts (for what city has only one sin?), we cannot avoid that the Scriptures do teach that homosexual acts are central to the sins of Sodom which cry to heaven for vengeance, and for which God saw fit to bring a fiery end.

Genesis 19 speaks plainly of the sin, Ezekiel 16 broadens the description but retains the word “abomination,” and Jude 7 clearly attests to sexual perversion as being the central sin with which Sodom and Gomorrah were connected.

God the Holy Spirit has not failed to teach quite clearly on the fundamental nature of the sins involved in these ancient cities. Widespread homosexual practice is surely the keynote of condemnation received by these cities and attempts to recast the matter as a “hospitality” issue must be seen for the fanciful distortion they are.