In all the talk around the more revolutionary interpretations of Amoris Laetitia, the word discernment comes up.
It came up yesterday in a twitter conversation I was having on the topic with @thirstygargoyle - he had responded to my previous post about Jurisprudence and Imprudence by tweeting: It's important to note, I think, that Amoris deals with how to pick up pieces afterwards, and proposes an *augmented* internal forum. By which I mean, it proposes that discernment is guided by a priest, and is not a purely solitary exercise.
I asked: What is the discernment aimed at discerning? That is what nobody has (yet) explained to me... That the previous marriage was null?
To which he replied: It will vary from case to case. There'll be a huge range of variants.
We chatted on for quite a while, but really got no further in terms of what is being discerned.
And that worries me.
For I think that some interpreters of AL may help people to 'discern' that their previous marriage was in fact null, so they are free to treat their new union as a real marriage. Others may help people to discern that in their particular situation, it would be impossible to separate, so they too could treat their new union as a real marriage. And so on.
@thirstygargoyle makes the point that Familiaris Consortio suggests that 'the situations of individuals who had remarried after divorces were different and needed to be treated differently.' But nowhere does Familiaris Consortio or any other teaching document of the Church suggest that 'differently' might mean acknowledging a second union as legitimate when a first valid marriage endures. Yet that seems the direction of travel of many interpreters of AL.
For what it's worth, my view is that discernment should be a process that leads the individual to realise the incompatibility of living with a second partner as a spouse with the life of grace; and therefore implies a penitential path which is aimed to a resolution of the irregularity: that is to say, a cessation of the adultery. For such is the path of mercy. And whilst someone is determined to persist in adultery, such a determination de facto means they are not in a position to receive Holy Communion. That is not necessarily a judgement that they are in mortal sin; but if they are not, then they are in a state of ignorance with regard to the teaching of the Church that is also incompatible with full (and therefore eucharistic) communion.
I think the underlying problem with some interpreters of AL is that they do not really think any harm is being done by those in second unions. If the first marriage is truly over (say the other spouse has abandoned the one in discernment irrevocably), then what's the problem?
The first problem is precisely there: the first marriage is not truly over, even if the other spouse has abandoned the one in discernment irrevocably. In such a case the marriage still endures, and that means that the second party is not free to enter a new union (that's rather what we mean when we promise 'for better of for worse, till death do us part.')
The second problem is that sin harms us and others. Any sin. Every time. Even when culpability is reduced, sin is still evil, and still harmful. The abortionist who truly and sincerely believes he is helping a distressed pregnant woman is still doing something evil, even though his culpability may be minimal or non-existent. The adulterer is no different.
So any process of discernment that is not aimed at ending the adultery is the opposite of mercy. And any sexual intimacy in a second union , where the first is valid and endures, is adultery, as Our Lord clearly taught.
Showing posts with label Amoris Laetitia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Amoris Laetitia. Show all posts
Monday, 21 August 2017
Sunday, 23 July 2017
Jurisprudence and imprudence
In our legal system, we have a doctrine of the presumption of innocence.
The reasons for this are fairly clear: a society in which people can be judged guilty without a proper process is clearly problematic.
The presumption of innocence, of course, may lead to injustices: an individual may know very well that someone is guilty of an offence against him, and yet be unable to prove it to the standards required in law: the truly guilty party escapes the consequences of his actions, and the victim is denied justice.
But so it must be: for the alternative is so much worse: if the police, or the State (either of which means, effectively, those with power) can decide who is guilty without due process, it is worse for all of us. And inevitably the highest price will be paid by those with least power.
A second principle is that nobody is the judge in his own case. Again, the reasons are fairly clear: the temptation to bias (whether conscious or unconscious) is so strong that we cannot fairly submit somebody to such temptation and rely on him to give a just verdict. Rather, we seek means to ensure that judgement is made by people without a vested interest in the outcome. These are fairly universal principles in any civilised society, for reasons which are obvious.
I reflect on these, because some people do not seem to see the massive imprudence of some apparently merciful approaches to the problem of divorce and 'remarriage.'
The presumption in favour of the bond - that is the presumption that a marriage is valid until proved null - serves a similar function with regard to marriage as the presumption of innocence does to criminal justice. It is true that, just as with the presumption of innocence, the presumption in favour of the bond may lead to individual cases of injustice; but the principle stands, because the alternative is so much worse and more damaging for everyone. And as ever, those most damaged will be those who have least power.
Likewise, any attempt to change the annulment process so that one of the parties to a marriage becomes the judge in his own case is clearly an affront both to the principles of justice and to the institution of marriage. It may appear merciful, but (inter alia) places a terrible burden of responsibility on the individual, in an area where we already know that human judgement is, let us say, unreliable.
Someone very close to me has recently abandoned his wife and taken up with another woman. He has managed to persuade himself that his marriage was a sham. I have no doubt that such a psychological event has taken place in his mind: he genuinely believes it. I have no doubt that he is wrong... We humans are remarkably good at doing that: interpreting reality to justify our behaviour and our desires.
And of course the injustice is done to his wife and children; and harm done to himself (he is really bent out of shape...) and to the institution of Marriage. So whilst one could not, and should not, pronounce on his individual culpability, one can see that an 'internal forum' solution is profoundly problematic.
These are some of the reasons why some of the approaches being promoted in the wake of Amoris Laetitia are so troubling to so many thoughtful Catholics.
Of course, by drawing attention to these issues in this way, I lay myself open to the charge of being legalistic. But I would draw a distinction between legalism and clear thinking about the law. Our Lord condemned a certain type of legalism; but also declared for the Law. Catholic tradition has long recognised the importance of Canon Law - and not least with regard to protecting Holy Matrimony.
The law - civil or canon - may be an imperfect instrument; but those who do away with it in the hope of advancing justice, peace and happiness soon find that it doesn't work out so well: the revolution always ends up consuming its own children - and particularly the powerless.
The reasons for this are fairly clear: a society in which people can be judged guilty without a proper process is clearly problematic.
The presumption of innocence, of course, may lead to injustices: an individual may know very well that someone is guilty of an offence against him, and yet be unable to prove it to the standards required in law: the truly guilty party escapes the consequences of his actions, and the victim is denied justice.
But so it must be: for the alternative is so much worse: if the police, or the State (either of which means, effectively, those with power) can decide who is guilty without due process, it is worse for all of us. And inevitably the highest price will be paid by those with least power.
A second principle is that nobody is the judge in his own case. Again, the reasons are fairly clear: the temptation to bias (whether conscious or unconscious) is so strong that we cannot fairly submit somebody to such temptation and rely on him to give a just verdict. Rather, we seek means to ensure that judgement is made by people without a vested interest in the outcome. These are fairly universal principles in any civilised society, for reasons which are obvious.
I reflect on these, because some people do not seem to see the massive imprudence of some apparently merciful approaches to the problem of divorce and 'remarriage.'
The presumption in favour of the bond - that is the presumption that a marriage is valid until proved null - serves a similar function with regard to marriage as the presumption of innocence does to criminal justice. It is true that, just as with the presumption of innocence, the presumption in favour of the bond may lead to individual cases of injustice; but the principle stands, because the alternative is so much worse and more damaging for everyone. And as ever, those most damaged will be those who have least power.
Likewise, any attempt to change the annulment process so that one of the parties to a marriage becomes the judge in his own case is clearly an affront both to the principles of justice and to the institution of marriage. It may appear merciful, but (inter alia) places a terrible burden of responsibility on the individual, in an area where we already know that human judgement is, let us say, unreliable.
Someone very close to me has recently abandoned his wife and taken up with another woman. He has managed to persuade himself that his marriage was a sham. I have no doubt that such a psychological event has taken place in his mind: he genuinely believes it. I have no doubt that he is wrong... We humans are remarkably good at doing that: interpreting reality to justify our behaviour and our desires.
And of course the injustice is done to his wife and children; and harm done to himself (he is really bent out of shape...) and to the institution of Marriage. So whilst one could not, and should not, pronounce on his individual culpability, one can see that an 'internal forum' solution is profoundly problematic.
These are some of the reasons why some of the approaches being promoted in the wake of Amoris Laetitia are so troubling to so many thoughtful Catholics.
Of course, by drawing attention to these issues in this way, I lay myself open to the charge of being legalistic. But I would draw a distinction between legalism and clear thinking about the law. Our Lord condemned a certain type of legalism; but also declared for the Law. Catholic tradition has long recognised the importance of Canon Law - and not least with regard to protecting Holy Matrimony.
The law - civil or canon - may be an imperfect instrument; but those who do away with it in the hope of advancing justice, peace and happiness soon find that it doesn't work out so well: the revolution always ends up consuming its own children - and particularly the powerless.
Saturday, 7 January 2017
But in that case...
On the face of it, the best defence for the Holy Father's apparent desire to admit the divorced and 'remarried' to Holy Communion, is his view that many (or even most) marriages are in fact null, as the couple do not fully understand and believe in what they are undertaking. If that is the case, if the first marriage was never in fact a marriage, then a second union may be entered into, and there is no question of adultery and thus no breaking of Our Lord's teaching.
But let's follow that train of thought a bit further. If we allow the hypothesis (and in fact, for many reasons, I do not) that most marriages are null, due to ignorance, lack of proper intent and so forth, then we should also address the fact that most people receiving Holy Communion do so in a similar state: they are equally poorly formed, and therefore quite probably not discerning the Body of the Lord - and we know what St Paul has to say about that. Further, do we conclude that most baptisms are probably invalid too, for similar reasons? In which case, people should certainly not be presenting for Holy Communion: I don't think even Kasper is advocating Communion for the unbaptised (or at least, not yet...)
But I think the problem lies in setting the bar of understanding too high. Just as a child can understand enough worthily to receive Holy Communion, without a full sacramental theology; so a couple - any couple who are capable of such understanding - can understand what the marriage vows mean.
The Church's immemorial practice, for reasons that are clearly wise, prudent and just, has always been to assert the validity of the marriage bond, unless there is clear and substantial reason in a specific case to prove that it was not valid. If the Holy Father intends to reverse that, we really are in trouble.
But let's follow that train of thought a bit further. If we allow the hypothesis (and in fact, for many reasons, I do not) that most marriages are null, due to ignorance, lack of proper intent and so forth, then we should also address the fact that most people receiving Holy Communion do so in a similar state: they are equally poorly formed, and therefore quite probably not discerning the Body of the Lord - and we know what St Paul has to say about that. Further, do we conclude that most baptisms are probably invalid too, for similar reasons? In which case, people should certainly not be presenting for Holy Communion: I don't think even Kasper is advocating Communion for the unbaptised (or at least, not yet...)
But I think the problem lies in setting the bar of understanding too high. Just as a child can understand enough worthily to receive Holy Communion, without a full sacramental theology; so a couple - any couple who are capable of such understanding - can understand what the marriage vows mean.
The Church's immemorial practice, for reasons that are clearly wise, prudent and just, has always been to assert the validity of the marriage bond, unless there is clear and substantial reason in a specific case to prove that it was not valid. If the Holy Father intends to reverse that, we really are in trouble.
Tuesday, 3 January 2017
Scandal
In discussing the problems associated with some interpretations of Amoris Laetitia, I have mentioned the word scandal. This is an unfashionable notion, and one that I think the proponents of a particular brand of mercy fail to understand.
In J B Priestley's play I Have Been Here Before (produced in 1937, the same year as he was writing the rather better known Time and the Conways), it was taken as axiomatic that a schoolmaster having a liaison with another man's wife would be a source of such great scandal that he would have to leave his job.
Seventy years on, that seems very archaic. And all that has changed is that such a scandal has been perpetrated so frequently that it has become common-place, and finally has been accepted as part of normal - indeed respectable - life.
Scandal, in fact, serves a role in society that is analagous to that of shame in the individual. It makes certain actions and behaviours almost unthinkable - actions and behaviours that are deemed particularly harmful both to the individuals involved and to society more broadly.
Our Lord, of course, had something to say about scandal, and it involved millstones...
That is why the doctrine of 'tolerance' is so misguided. When we tolerate aberrant behaviour, we teach others, and ultimately ourselves, that it doesn't matter. And once a critical mass of people in society indulge in it, it becomes normalised and deemed respectable: the examples are all around us. Perhaps the most obvious is contraception, where the scandal of Catholics contracepting is so widespread that nobody is scandalised any more. Yet we should be.
The Church, of course, still believes that divorce is a fiction: that valid marriages endure until the death of one of the spouses, and that any pretended union by a spouse with anyone else is adultery.
One of the concerns I have about some of the proposed interpretations and implementations of Amoris Laetitia is, then, that it scandalises; and ultimately will normalise what should scandalise. As more and more Catholics witness people in objectively adulterous situations welcomed back to sacramental communion, they will conclude - as will the world - that the Church no longer believes what it officially teaches: and that is a very unmerciful situation to visit on the Church and on the world.
In J B Priestley's play I Have Been Here Before (produced in 1937, the same year as he was writing the rather better known Time and the Conways), it was taken as axiomatic that a schoolmaster having a liaison with another man's wife would be a source of such great scandal that he would have to leave his job.
Seventy years on, that seems very archaic. And all that has changed is that such a scandal has been perpetrated so frequently that it has become common-place, and finally has been accepted as part of normal - indeed respectable - life.
Scandal, in fact, serves a role in society that is analagous to that of shame in the individual. It makes certain actions and behaviours almost unthinkable - actions and behaviours that are deemed particularly harmful both to the individuals involved and to society more broadly.
Our Lord, of course, had something to say about scandal, and it involved millstones...
That is why the doctrine of 'tolerance' is so misguided. When we tolerate aberrant behaviour, we teach others, and ultimately ourselves, that it doesn't matter. And once a critical mass of people in society indulge in it, it becomes normalised and deemed respectable: the examples are all around us. Perhaps the most obvious is contraception, where the scandal of Catholics contracepting is so widespread that nobody is scandalised any more. Yet we should be.
The Church, of course, still believes that divorce is a fiction: that valid marriages endure until the death of one of the spouses, and that any pretended union by a spouse with anyone else is adultery.
One of the concerns I have about some of the proposed interpretations and implementations of Amoris Laetitia is, then, that it scandalises; and ultimately will normalise what should scandalise. As more and more Catholics witness people in objectively adulterous situations welcomed back to sacramental communion, they will conclude - as will the world - that the Church no longer believes what it officially teaches: and that is a very unmerciful situation to visit on the Church and on the world.
Sunday, 1 January 2017
Still confused
I know I'm a simple sort of chap, but I am still confused. Despite all those who say that the four cardinal's request for clarification is a tactic of dissent, and that there is nothing to be confused about, I remain puzzled.
What precisely is it that people (and here I mean those advocates of mercy who believe that the divorced and civilly 're-married' should be admitted to communion without change to their behaviour) think that Amoris Laetitia is teaching?
It seems to me that it must be one of two things. On the one hand, it might be that there should be a new process for declaring a marriage null, when there are practical reasons why the current process will not work. That seems to be implied, for example, here: 'Let us suppose she cannot, for technical reasons, obtain an annulment (these are rare cases), and the first husband has long since remarried.' (I don't want to keep picking on Austen Ivereigh, but he is the one who keeps writing about it...)
On the other hand, it might be that there are situations in which the circumstances are so difficult that the only reasonable (or merciful) thing for the Church to do is to recognise a second union as being good (or at least, not adulterous). That seems to be implied here: a woman abandoned by her abusive husband who remarries to provide for her children might be in the same legal category as the philandering playboy who ditches his wife for a younger model, but no one could claim that both are in the same moral category. But oddly, that is the same example.
Nowhere does Ivereigh, nor anyone else I have so far read, say precisely which is intended. And that is problematic, for a number of reasons.
The former suggestion is, I suppose, possible to consider: if a marriage really were a sham from the start, and for complex reasons, that is hard to prove via the normal process, it might be worth looking closely at the case. However, for clear and obvious reasons, the Church has always assumed in favour of the bond, with the onus of proof being on the one who claimed it never existed. So any change here would need to be very carefully thought through and clearly articulated, to avoid grave miscarriages of justice, scandal, and so on.
But an awful lot of the language of the liberal interpreters of AL (and indeed the Holy Father's own reported response to the questions from South America, and his reluctance to answer the Cardinals' dubia) all suggest that the second line of thought is the one that is to be followed: 'many such cases require an individual discernment because they cannot simply be lumped together as ‘adultery.’' What does this mean? Ivereigh makes a distinction between the legal and the moral categories of different people. What he does not address is their married status. If they are validly married, and are engaging in sexual relations with someone other than their spouse (no matter how evil, duplicitous, philandering, etc he or she may be), they are committing adultery. No amount of discernment will alter that fact.
The Church's role, then, is certainly to extend them mercy: the mercy that consists of engaging with them in love, to lead them to the truth, resulting in the change of their behaviour to conform it to God's plan. The sacraments are there to support them in this journey of transformation: sacramental confession including a firm purpose of amendment, and holy communion as the supreme gift of grace to strengthen and nourish them.
Otherwise, the path of discernment becomes a way to help people stay locked in the grip of sin. We are not the best judges in our own case - particularly if we have been through the trauma of a relationship falling apart; and to be asked to evaluate whether God is really asking us to leave our new, comfortable, loving relationship is a tough ask... Not least because, as has often been observed before, God gives us the grace we need when we need it - not before. So it may seem an impossible demand that we should remove ourself and our children from the protection of a new partner - and as it seems impossible, we conclude it cannot be what God really wants. But actually, if we start from the other end, knowing that it is what God wants, mysteriously, as we start to follow his will, we gain the very grace we need to make it possible.
That seems to me the real failing of all those promoting what I might call cheap - or even counterfeit - mercy: that they underestimate the transformative power of God's love and grace when people really do submit themselves to the Divine Will, rather than justify themselves in the status quo...
But as I noted earlier, nowhere do the pro-readmittance interpreters of AL make clear precisely what they think the document teaches; which of these options - or is it both?
Further, the Holy Father's refusal to answer the dubia, and the increasing amount of noise without light from the commentators, suggest that clarity is the one thing that they want to avoid. Rather let everything be done privately and discretely. After all, what business is this of mine? Or yours?
Well, as the Cardinals have made clear in their dubia, confusion about Amoris Laetitia risks leading souls into mortal error: we should all be concerned about that. Moreover, the interpretation of some of the bishops in Germany and the Americas, for example, is effectively introducing Church-sanctioned divorce, which is a grave moral evil and will have devastating consequences (as widespread divorce already does throughout western civilisation). And the whole project, as conceived by some of them, is in fact an assault on Catholic truth and Catholic unity. Of course it is our business!
What precisely is it that people (and here I mean those advocates of mercy who believe that the divorced and civilly 're-married' should be admitted to communion without change to their behaviour) think that Amoris Laetitia is teaching?
It seems to me that it must be one of two things. On the one hand, it might be that there should be a new process for declaring a marriage null, when there are practical reasons why the current process will not work. That seems to be implied, for example, here: 'Let us suppose she cannot, for technical reasons, obtain an annulment (these are rare cases), and the first husband has long since remarried.' (I don't want to keep picking on Austen Ivereigh, but he is the one who keeps writing about it...)
On the other hand, it might be that there are situations in which the circumstances are so difficult that the only reasonable (or merciful) thing for the Church to do is to recognise a second union as being good (or at least, not adulterous). That seems to be implied here: a woman abandoned by her abusive husband who remarries to provide for her children might be in the same legal category as the philandering playboy who ditches his wife for a younger model, but no one could claim that both are in the same moral category. But oddly, that is the same example.
Nowhere does Ivereigh, nor anyone else I have so far read, say precisely which is intended. And that is problematic, for a number of reasons.
The former suggestion is, I suppose, possible to consider: if a marriage really were a sham from the start, and for complex reasons, that is hard to prove via the normal process, it might be worth looking closely at the case. However, for clear and obvious reasons, the Church has always assumed in favour of the bond, with the onus of proof being on the one who claimed it never existed. So any change here would need to be very carefully thought through and clearly articulated, to avoid grave miscarriages of justice, scandal, and so on.
But an awful lot of the language of the liberal interpreters of AL (and indeed the Holy Father's own reported response to the questions from South America, and his reluctance to answer the Cardinals' dubia) all suggest that the second line of thought is the one that is to be followed: 'many such cases require an individual discernment because they cannot simply be lumped together as ‘adultery.’' What does this mean? Ivereigh makes a distinction between the legal and the moral categories of different people. What he does not address is their married status. If they are validly married, and are engaging in sexual relations with someone other than their spouse (no matter how evil, duplicitous, philandering, etc he or she may be), they are committing adultery. No amount of discernment will alter that fact.
The Church's role, then, is certainly to extend them mercy: the mercy that consists of engaging with them in love, to lead them to the truth, resulting in the change of their behaviour to conform it to God's plan. The sacraments are there to support them in this journey of transformation: sacramental confession including a firm purpose of amendment, and holy communion as the supreme gift of grace to strengthen and nourish them.
Otherwise, the path of discernment becomes a way to help people stay locked in the grip of sin. We are not the best judges in our own case - particularly if we have been through the trauma of a relationship falling apart; and to be asked to evaluate whether God is really asking us to leave our new, comfortable, loving relationship is a tough ask... Not least because, as has often been observed before, God gives us the grace we need when we need it - not before. So it may seem an impossible demand that we should remove ourself and our children from the protection of a new partner - and as it seems impossible, we conclude it cannot be what God really wants. But actually, if we start from the other end, knowing that it is what God wants, mysteriously, as we start to follow his will, we gain the very grace we need to make it possible.
That seems to me the real failing of all those promoting what I might call cheap - or even counterfeit - mercy: that they underestimate the transformative power of God's love and grace when people really do submit themselves to the Divine Will, rather than justify themselves in the status quo...
But as I noted earlier, nowhere do the pro-readmittance interpreters of AL make clear precisely what they think the document teaches; which of these options - or is it both?
Further, the Holy Father's refusal to answer the dubia, and the increasing amount of noise without light from the commentators, suggest that clarity is the one thing that they want to avoid. Rather let everything be done privately and discretely. After all, what business is this of mine? Or yours?
Well, as the Cardinals have made clear in their dubia, confusion about Amoris Laetitia risks leading souls into mortal error: we should all be concerned about that. Moreover, the interpretation of some of the bishops in Germany and the Americas, for example, is effectively introducing Church-sanctioned divorce, which is a grave moral evil and will have devastating consequences (as widespread divorce already does throughout western civilisation). And the whole project, as conceived by some of them, is in fact an assault on Catholic truth and Catholic unity. Of course it is our business!
Monday, 12 December 2016
Married to the Cross
At the heart of the controversy over Amoris Laetitia, I think, are unclear and probably conflicting understandings of Christian marriage.
So much of the discussion that I have read is about healing the hurt: as though the most important thing that Catholicism has to offer is emotional happiness in this life.
What is not being discussed is the idea of marriage as a vocation. Yet that is surely what it is, in Catholic understanding. It is a call from Our Lord about how we are to spend our lives, and how we are to respond to His grace to seek our own and others' salvation. And as a call from Our Lord, part of that message is: Take up your Cross, and follow me.
For we live in a vale of tears, and our true happiness is not to be found in this world (though we are, nonetheless, to be joyful, but that is something else...). But the modern mind thinks, post-Enlightenment, that the pursuit of happiness is the purpose of life. That of course paves the way for the Deceiver to promise us happiness by way of the flesh or the world.
But the Christian vocation to marriage is a call to suffering; to suffering in union with the Crucified. At the very least, we will suffer because we are uniting ourself, sinful as we are, to another person who is also a sinner; both of us subject to concupiscence, at the very least. We have to mortify our selfishness, and also to regulate our passions, in the service of the vocation we have ben called to follow. We may have to suffer when we see our spouse suffer, when we see our children suffer, when we have to sacrifice careers or advancement in the interests of our family, when we are truly open to life, even though that be at great personal cost, and so on and so on. We may even be called to suffer when the person whom we love abuses or abandons us.
That is the way of the Cross. But because the Church has failed to teach such hard truths for so long, we have lost our way - we have lost the Way.
And so the requirement that we honour our marriage vows even when that involves suffering is seen as unjust, unmerciful, unthinkable... when in fact, it is precisely where our salvation, and quite possibly that of others, is to be found.
--
The same principles apply, of course, to the celibate vocation; the priestly and religious vocations, and so on. I am making no special claim for marriage here; in fact I think that marriage has unique joys that are a great blessing and mercy, which others more holy than I are able willingly to sacrifice: celibacy is the higher calling. But in all cases, to be a Christian is to follow Christ, and if He leads us to the Cross, it is not in our interests to turn away - and it is a false mercy for others to support us in doing so.
So much of the discussion that I have read is about healing the hurt: as though the most important thing that Catholicism has to offer is emotional happiness in this life.
What is not being discussed is the idea of marriage as a vocation. Yet that is surely what it is, in Catholic understanding. It is a call from Our Lord about how we are to spend our lives, and how we are to respond to His grace to seek our own and others' salvation. And as a call from Our Lord, part of that message is: Take up your Cross, and follow me.
For we live in a vale of tears, and our true happiness is not to be found in this world (though we are, nonetheless, to be joyful, but that is something else...). But the modern mind thinks, post-Enlightenment, that the pursuit of happiness is the purpose of life. That of course paves the way for the Deceiver to promise us happiness by way of the flesh or the world.
But the Christian vocation to marriage is a call to suffering; to suffering in union with the Crucified. At the very least, we will suffer because we are uniting ourself, sinful as we are, to another person who is also a sinner; both of us subject to concupiscence, at the very least. We have to mortify our selfishness, and also to regulate our passions, in the service of the vocation we have ben called to follow. We may have to suffer when we see our spouse suffer, when we see our children suffer, when we have to sacrifice careers or advancement in the interests of our family, when we are truly open to life, even though that be at great personal cost, and so on and so on. We may even be called to suffer when the person whom we love abuses or abandons us.
That is the way of the Cross. But because the Church has failed to teach such hard truths for so long, we have lost our way - we have lost the Way.
And so the requirement that we honour our marriage vows even when that involves suffering is seen as unjust, unmerciful, unthinkable... when in fact, it is precisely where our salvation, and quite possibly that of others, is to be found.
--
The same principles apply, of course, to the celibate vocation; the priestly and religious vocations, and so on. I am making no special claim for marriage here; in fact I think that marriage has unique joys that are a great blessing and mercy, which others more holy than I are able willingly to sacrifice: celibacy is the higher calling. But in all cases, to be a Christian is to follow Christ, and if He leads us to the Cross, it is not in our interests to turn away - and it is a false mercy for others to support us in doing so.
Saturday, 10 December 2016
Adultery is not a victimless sin...
In a lot of the discussion about admitting the soi-disant 're-married' (as opposed to people who are truly re-married, after the death of a previous spouse) to Holy Communion, one gets the impression that those keen on 'mercy' see the adultery of the new relationship as some kind of technical problem; something only those who are pedantic and legalistic would worry about.
But that is not the case. The problem the Holy Father, Kasper and the rest face is that Our Lord makes it quite clear, both in the Gospel and in the continuous teaching of the Church under the guidance of the Holy Ghost, that adultery is a serious sin; and also that serious sins have serious consequences.
That is quite apart from the culpability of the sinner; even a sin where the subjective culpability is minimal causes harm and is evil. And adultery is by no means a victimless sin.
The immediate victims, of course, are the spouses and also any children involved. And I do not just mean the moral danger to which the children are exposed. Academic research shows that 'exposure to step-parenting is the strongest known predictor of child abuse, and exposure to divorce has measurable detrimental effects on children's outcomes.'
But the damage is not limited to those immediately affected. We know both from theory (open systems theory) and from experience (see, for example, the very limited societal approvals given first to contraception and then abortion) that any small relaxation in the moral censure for evil actions in the realm of human sexuality inevitably leads to widespread abuse and an attitudinal shift.
So even a perceived softening of the Church's teaching against divorce will, quite inexorably, contribute further to the already catastrophic rates of divorce and separation we now witness, with all the tragic consequences, both for individuals and for civic society, which that entails.
And then, there is the further harm that is done, by making it ever harder for young people to contract valid marriages; if the last bastion of truth undermines that truth, how are they to believe what it is required that they believe?
These are precisely why the ancient maxim that hard cases make bad law is so important. Of course, there are some people who are in terribly distressing situations, possibly with little subjective fault of their own. But an attempt to be 'merciful' to them, by pretending that adultery is OK in their specific situation, is profoundly misguided - and further imperils their souls too, if they no longer feel the need to address their situation through repentance and amendment.
Finally, there cannot be an irreconcilable conflict between truth and mercy; if we seek to offer mercy at the cost of truth taught us by Christ Himself, we have abandoned both truth and mercy.
But that is not the case. The problem the Holy Father, Kasper and the rest face is that Our Lord makes it quite clear, both in the Gospel and in the continuous teaching of the Church under the guidance of the Holy Ghost, that adultery is a serious sin; and also that serious sins have serious consequences.
That is quite apart from the culpability of the sinner; even a sin where the subjective culpability is minimal causes harm and is evil. And adultery is by no means a victimless sin.
The immediate victims, of course, are the spouses and also any children involved. And I do not just mean the moral danger to which the children are exposed. Academic research shows that 'exposure to step-parenting is the strongest known predictor of child abuse, and exposure to divorce has measurable detrimental effects on children's outcomes.'
But the damage is not limited to those immediately affected. We know both from theory (open systems theory) and from experience (see, for example, the very limited societal approvals given first to contraception and then abortion) that any small relaxation in the moral censure for evil actions in the realm of human sexuality inevitably leads to widespread abuse and an attitudinal shift.
So even a perceived softening of the Church's teaching against divorce will, quite inexorably, contribute further to the already catastrophic rates of divorce and separation we now witness, with all the tragic consequences, both for individuals and for civic society, which that entails.
And then, there is the further harm that is done, by making it ever harder for young people to contract valid marriages; if the last bastion of truth undermines that truth, how are they to believe what it is required that they believe?
These are precisely why the ancient maxim that hard cases make bad law is so important. Of course, there are some people who are in terribly distressing situations, possibly with little subjective fault of their own. But an attempt to be 'merciful' to them, by pretending that adultery is OK in their specific situation, is profoundly misguided - and further imperils their souls too, if they no longer feel the need to address their situation through repentance and amendment.
Finally, there cannot be an irreconcilable conflict between truth and mercy; if we seek to offer mercy at the cost of truth taught us by Christ Himself, we have abandoned both truth and mercy.
Tuesday, 29 November 2016
Ivereigh Tower
It's all a bit confusing. Amoris Laetitia seems to be somewhat ambiguous, and some of its footnotes, more so.
Clearly, as with any papal document, one reads it in the hermeneutic of continuity: that is to say, one starts from the assumption that it builds on, and does not contradict, previous magisterial teaching, and interprets any ambiguity in line with such teaching.
And yet, it seems that in a private letter, the Holy Father has suggested that the ambiguity is meant to be interpreted in a quite different way - a way that was discussed but not ratified in the two synods that preceded its publication. And as one looks around at the bishops and indeed cardinals of the Church, we find that some are saying it should be interpreted in one way, and others in a contrary way. That is clearly confusing, to say the least.
So some cardinals who are particularly mindful of the need for clarity - and indeed for doctrinal coherence in that very hermeneutic of continuity to which I referred earlier - have submitted five dubia to the Holy Father, so that all may be quite clear precisely what is or is not being taught.
Yet, mysteriously, the Holy Father seems reluctant to clarify: the dubia remain unanswered.
And then I saw that Austen Ivereigh, one of the founders of Catholic Voices, responded to this tweet on Twitter: Submitting dubia is a standard part of Church life. It’s not unreasonable to expect a clear answer http://buff.ly/2gb2uJj by @SSBullivant, by saying: But in this case it’s dissent / theological protest masquerading as a dubium. The answer has been given. They just don’t like it.
I found that curious, as I could find no record of such an answer, so I tweeted @austeni So, for the slow on the uptake, like me, what are the Holy Father's answers to the dubia? In Y/N form, for the avoidance of doubt?
But answer was there none.
Of course, there is no particular reason why Austen Ivereigh should (con)descend from his tower to answer me - although as I also mentioned on Twitter, instructing the ignorant is one of the corporal works of Mercy.
Ivereigh is the author of How to Defend the Faith without Raising Your Voice. Can we expect a second volume: How to Defend the Faith without saying anything at all?
More seriously, though, what are we to make of it when people (whether the Holy Father or the Head of Catholic Voices) refuse to clarify: when the request for clarity is seen as a hostile act, in fact? That I find a very worrying question.
And what are we to make of it when people (such as close papal aides...) rush to lie: to say all the cardinals are united on this, and that the interpretation was the fruit of the two synods, when we know that to be untrue? Again, I find the question, and the need to ask it, very worrying indeed.
--
Pray for our Holy Father, for all our Cardinals and Bishops, and for the whole Church: for we live in strikingly difficult times.
Sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio,
contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium.
Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur:
tuque, Princeps militiae caelestis,
Satanam aliosque spiritus malignos,
qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo,
divina virtute, in infernum detrude.
Amen.
Tuesday, 12 April 2016
More on Amoris Laetitia
Further to my recent post, in which I urged people to read Amoris Laetitia through Catholic eyes, there are a few more thoughts milling around in my head.
One is that, although I stand by that post, it would not be true to say that I have not been troubled by Amoris Laetitia. If I were pope... And of course, therein lies the absurdity. I am not (Deo gratias).
Another is this. Many who are unhappy with the document are attributing ill-intent to the Holy Father. I believe that to be profoundly, spiritually, dangerous. We are commanded not to judge. In a traditional Catholic understanding, that means, specifically, not judging the state of another's soul (we are allowed to judge actions, of course: indeed it is often necessary to do so). So I worry for those who think that they can judge the Holy Father's intentions, and judge them to be malign, for that strikes me as perilously close to judging the state of his soul (indeed, some may have been foolhardy enough to pronounce on that, too!) And to proclaim such opinions in public as facts is even more problematic.
A further thought is this: even if I were to believe that the Holy Father has an agenda which is not consistent with Catholic teaching and tradition, there is still a Catholic way to read the situation, as well as the document. I do not believe that God will abandon His Church. I also know that God respects and uses the office of sacred officials, even despite the office-holder. Consider the prophetic words of the Jewish High Priest: It is better that one man should die for the nation. The High Priest meant one thing, perhaps; but God used him, in his official role, to proclaim a truth beyond his understanding. Perhaps I should seek to read Amoris Laetitia in that light: is God speaking through this document in a prophetic way?
There is no doubt that we live in troubling times. There is no doubt that many will use Amoris Laetitia to advance ideas and practices contrary to tradition. But my responsibility is first and foremost for my own reaction: it is for that that I will answer to God.
Rushing to judgement is perilous indeed.
One is that, although I stand by that post, it would not be true to say that I have not been troubled by Amoris Laetitia. If I were pope... And of course, therein lies the absurdity. I am not (Deo gratias).
Another is this. Many who are unhappy with the document are attributing ill-intent to the Holy Father. I believe that to be profoundly, spiritually, dangerous. We are commanded not to judge. In a traditional Catholic understanding, that means, specifically, not judging the state of another's soul (we are allowed to judge actions, of course: indeed it is often necessary to do so). So I worry for those who think that they can judge the Holy Father's intentions, and judge them to be malign, for that strikes me as perilously close to judging the state of his soul (indeed, some may have been foolhardy enough to pronounce on that, too!) And to proclaim such opinions in public as facts is even more problematic.
A further thought is this: even if I were to believe that the Holy Father has an agenda which is not consistent with Catholic teaching and tradition, there is still a Catholic way to read the situation, as well as the document. I do not believe that God will abandon His Church. I also know that God respects and uses the office of sacred officials, even despite the office-holder. Consider the prophetic words of the Jewish High Priest: It is better that one man should die for the nation. The High Priest meant one thing, perhaps; but God used him, in his official role, to proclaim a truth beyond his understanding. Perhaps I should seek to read Amoris Laetitia in that light: is God speaking through this document in a prophetic way?
There is no doubt that we live in troubling times. There is no doubt that many will use Amoris Laetitia to advance ideas and practices contrary to tradition. But my responsibility is first and foremost for my own reaction: it is for that that I will answer to God.
Rushing to judgement is perilous indeed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
.jpg)
