Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the use of “natural law” in modern Catholic social thought. Although something like the notion of “natural law” can arguably be found even in the Old Testament, the Christian manifestation of the theory is usually associated with the thought of Thomas Aquinas. Despite the popularity of natural law language in modern Catholic thought, Thomas’ use of natural law actually played a relatively small role in his theological and ethical reflections. I’m not going to get into Thomas’ use of natural law right now, but I think it is interesting to look at how natural law theory functions to justify the translation of theological language into more “neutral” secular language. In order for the church to speak to secular power an appeal to “the natural” is made, that is, what “all people of good will” can comprehend. But does this translation result in a tempering or minimizing of the profundity inherent in Christian theological thought. In other words, is it really possible to translate theological language? Of course, theological thought cannot be separated from the community we call church and so the attempt is usually made to weed out the “relevant” politics imbedded in theology so our voice can be effectively heard. So the question arises can Christian social thought be separated from the embodied life and speech of the church without losing its distinctiveness? Does the church have a social ethic that it can bring to the pluralistic table or is the church a social ethic in and of itself?
Filed under: Capitalism, Catholic Social Thought, Empire, Nationalism, Roman Catholicism
In his brilliant work The Two Churches: Catholicism and Capitalism in the World System Michael Budde argues that Catholic anticommunism in the twentieth century was instrumental in bringing about U.S. Catholic nationalism. Despite their differences both liberal and conservative Catholics in America shared core values and beliefs that were passionately in opposition to communism. Catholic anticommunism was reinforced by American anticommunism. In a very real sense, “the bulwark of both true Americanism and authentic Catholicism” was anticommunism. As Budde states, “Communism, to the Catholic leadership of the 1950s, represented both the oppression visited on Catholics behind the Iron Curtain and a threat to the prosperity and freedom the Church had come to enjoy in the United States” (79). As many scholars have pointed out, the election of John F. Kennedy in 1960 represented “the fully Americanized status of Catholics” (80).
In the 1980s two major pastoral letters issued by the National Conference of Catholic Bishops, The Challenge of Peace: God’s Promise and Our Response and Economic Justice For All: Catholic Social Teaching and the U.S. Economy , do offer a critique of the policies of the U.S. government and American society. As Budde points out, however, these letters should be read from the perspective of U.S. Catholic Nationalism which limited the impact of the letters and “guided the ‘prophetic’ movements of the Catholic hierarchy” (87). Interestingly, as Budde points out, although both letters include a theological evaluation of the issues at hand drawing heavily from scripture and the Christian theological tradition, when it comes to application and consideration of public policy there is a distinct epistemological shift that employs natural law language. In other words, the theological language of the first sections are “translated” into more “neutral” language so that the letters can appeal more to “all people of good will” as opposed to only Christians. Many conservatives criticized the two pastoral letters for being unpatriotic and naive on issues of economics, but Budde argues that in fact the pastorals “gave the bishops yet another opportunity to demonstrate their patriotism, their political acumen, and their belief in a capitalist world economy. U.S. Catholic Nationalism, rather than being undermined, stands affirmed and as definitive of the U.S. Catholic mainstream” (89).
Budde provides four reasons why this is the case: 1) the bishops assume from the outset that the U.S. is a force for good in the world. There is no effort to question U.S. economic or political imperialism. 2) there is no structural analysis of U.S. power and prosperity. “Rather than examine capitalism, the bishops seek to hide behind an economic agnosticism that is ‘pragmatic’ in nature” (89). 3) the bishops give a “nonconflictive, functionalist picture of U.S. society, focusing on questions of the “common good” without addressing questions of class-divisions and contradictory interests. 4) in the epistemological shift or translation of biblical/theological reflection into natural law discourse potential conflict with secular power is minimized. The sections are so poorly integrated that the biblical/theological reflections of the first section “look like religious gloss on an essentially nonreligious document” (92).
Budde concludes that the documents heavy reliance on natural law is the bishops’ attempt to speak to the problems of secular society. It is thought that theological discourse is too “sectarian” and cannot be used to appeal to a pluralistic society. Budde writes, “In weighing the tasks - dialogue with the faithful or dialogue with secular power - the bishops have chosen the latter as more important. Dialogue with the faithful on matters of economic justice, were it done seriously and without regard to secular opinion, would open the Church to renewed charges of ’separateness’ or ‘un-American-ness.’ Dialogue with secular power, particularly on terms amenable to that power, enhances the respectability and American-ness of U.S. Catholic spokesmen - another step ahead in the history of U.S. Catholic Nationalism” (93).
Writing about the Catholic Church,
a radical writer says:
“Rome will have to do more
than to play a waiting game;
she will have to use
some of the dynamite
inherent in her message.”
To blow the dynamite
of a message
is the only way
to make the message dynamic.
If the Catholic Church
is not today
the dominant social dynamic force,
it is because Catholic scholars
have taken the dynamite
of the Church,
have wrapped it up
in nice phraseology,
placed it in an hermetic container
and sat on the lid.
It is about time
to blow the lid off
so the Catholic Church
may again become
the dominant social dynamic force.
Peter Maurin, Easy Essays (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1977) 3.
I hope the ambassador is wrong on this…
US, Vatican share goals in Iraq, American ambassador says
Rome, Mar. 26, 2008 (CWNews.com) - The new US ambassador to the Holy See says that Pope Benedict XVI and President George W. Bush will explore their common goals– including the pursuit of religious freedom, human rights, and a stable democracy in Iraq– when they meet during the Pontiff’s visit to Washington in April.
In an interview with Vatican Radio, Ambassador Mary Ann Glendon said that the Pope and the President had found ample common ground in previous discussions. “They hit it off, so to speak,” she reported.
Questioned about the war in Iraq, and the Vatican calls for further efforts to safeguard the Christian minority there, the US envoy observed that after the death of Archbishop Paul Faraj Raho, the US and the Vatican issued statements that were “very much in the same vein– condemning the violence, condemning terrorism, and especially condemning religion as a pretext for terrorism.” The situation in Iraq is difficult, however, she said, because “there are elements in society that are determined to defeat the common aim of the United States and the Holy See.”
Acknowledging that there was “some initial disagreement” between the Vatican and the US regarding the war in Iraq, Glendon said that today the two parties share a common goal there: “to promote the building of a free and democratic and stable society where persons of all religious faiths will be protected.”
Article from Catholic World News
Filed under: Capitalism, Catholic Social Thought, John Paul II, Roman Catholicism
Soon after the collapse of the Berlin wall in 1989, John Paul II published his encyclical Centesimus Annus in which he poses the following question:”Can it perhaps be said that, after the failure of communism, should capitalism be the goal of the countries now making efforts to rebuild their economy and society?” JPII explains that the “answer is complex.”
If by “capitalism” is meant an economic system which recognizes the fundamental and positive role of business, the market, private property and the resulting responsibility for the means of production, as well as free human creativity in the economic sector, then the answer is certainly in the affirmative, even though it would perhaps be more appropriate to speak of a “business economy,” ”market economy” or simply “free economy”. But if by “capitalism” is meant a system in which freedom in the economic sector is not circumscribed within a strong juridical framework which places it at the service of human freedom in its totality, and which sees it as a particular aspect of that freedom, the core of which is ethical and religious, then the reply is certainly negative.
The rest of the encyclical affirms the priority of the person over profit and the spiritual and physical pitfalls of consumerism. JPII also expresses the Church’s solidarity in the liberation of the poor in this encyclical. I think there is much to be praised in the document and it certainly has to be read in its historical context. However, I can’t help but feel troubled by JPII’s affirmation of capitalism, even though it is a guarded one. In my opinion, JPII doesn’t really provide a theological basis for his account of capitalism other than an appeal to history. The Catholic social tradition has always affirmed the right to private property, but I have always found the theological basis for such a position tenuous at best. Of course, the Catholic social tradition emphasizes that this is not an “absolute right” and that the use of material goods is always subordinated to the fact that they are common goods that must be shared.I want to hear your thoughts on the matter. Is capitalism the model economic system? If so, on what theological basis?
Pope Benedict XVI’s second encyclical, Spe salvi, was released today in eight languages. The encyclical is on Christian hope and is I’m sure worthwhile (though likely somewhat controversial). Hopefully I’ll have a chance to read it over January and write a post on it.
Solidarity is a Christian virtue. Solidarity seeks to go beyond itself; it includes forgiveness and reconciliation. One’s neighbor is then not only a human being with rights and a fundamental equality with everyone else, but is the living image of God the Father, redeemed by the blood of Jesus Christ and placed under the permanent action of the Holy Spirit. One’s neighbor, including one’s enemy, must be loved with the same love with which the Lord loves him or her. For our neighbor’s sake one must be ready for sacrifice, even the ultimate one, namely to lay down one’s life for the brethren (cf. 1 Jn 3:16). At that point, awareness of the common fatherhood of God, of the brotherhood of all in Christ and of the presence and life-giving action of the Holy Spirit will bring to our vision of the world a new criterion for interpreting it. This supreme model of unity one God in three Persons, is what Christians mean by the word “communion.”
John Paul II, Sollicitudo rei socialis (On Social Concern), 1987.
The renewal of the vision of episcopal-primatial collegiality in the Second Vatican Council has not been effectively operative in the Roman Catholic Church. Despite the teaching of Vatican II on the subject, the Church still tends to operate under more of a centralist model than a one based on bishop-primatial collegiality. The primary reason why the Church tends toward centralism is not the result of a obsession for monarchical rule; nor does it have to do with a sort of will to power embedded or inherent in the papal office as such. Rather, the heart of the problem lies most fundamentally in the prevalent notion that the universal church precedes the local church. In 1992 the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith released a letter in which Cardinal Ratzinger states that the universal church is “a reality ontologically and temporally prior to every individual church.” The notion that the local church ontologically derives from the universal church has led to a privileging of the “one” over the “many.”
Eastern Orthodox theologian John D. Zizioulas sheds an important light on the subject. He argues that “the ‘many’ must have a constitutive and not derivative role in the Church’s being.”In other words, the ‘one’ cannot exist without the ‘many.’ Indeed, the opposite must also be true, and this is Zizioulas’ significant contribution to the discussion: the one Eucharist transcends ontological priority so that there is “simultaneity of both local and universal.” If there is to be true collegiality between the episcopate and the papal office, or true communion, the one cannot be set against the many, nor the many be against the one.
Vatican II’s affirmation of the “priesthood of the laity” led to a new understanding of the relationship between the laity and the ordained members of the Church. Vatican I emphasized papal primacy and infallibility and painted an image of the Church’s hierarchy as a pyramid. The vision of the Church’s hierarchy as a pyramid, with the pope at the top, the bishops right beneath, then the priest, left the masses, the laity, at the very bottom. As John Ford puts it, the problem with this image of the hierarchy is that it “implied a correlative understanding of the ministries of the person(s) at each level” (299). In this model, the laity play a passive role: they are recipients of the sacraments and teaching, but do not play any significant role in shaping the life and vision of the Church. In contrast, Vatican II envisioned the hierarchy, not as a pyramid, but as a communion. While affirming the structural hierarchy, the Church empowered the laity to share “in the one priesthood of Christ” (LG 10), which even includes playing a role in the formulation of doctrine (LG 12). Furthermore, the Council called the laity to “share in the priestly, prophetic and kingly office of Christ” (AA 2) in the Church through participation in activities such as teaching the catechism, pastoral care, and administering the resources of the Church (AA 10).
The emphasis on the “priesthood of the laity” has led to new understandings of the various ministries of the Church and how they relate to one another. In this model, the ordained priest still enjoys particular duties, serving as “pastoral minsters of Word and sacraments in a local eucharistic community” (M 30), but his duty includes empowering the lay people to fulfill their own priestly, prophetic, and kingly functions in the Church and in the world. In effect, this vision of the Church collapses (and perhaps even inverts) the pyramid scheme: the pope, the bishops, the priests, and deacons, though fulfilling their respective duties, also serve the laity and empower them to fulfill their vocation to be “leaven in the world” and witnesses to the gospel.
The celebration of the Eucharist and the existence of a bishop are not necessary for a particular community to be called church. If we agree with Vatican II that the Eucharist and a bishop are necessary components of what constitutes a church, then how do we account for “ecclesial communities” that do not have a college of bishops and do not celebrate the Eucharist in communion with Rome? Does this necessarily mean that when these people gather to worship they do not constitute church? By the logic of Vatican II we are left with the Roman Catholic church and other “ecclesial communities” not other churches. To be fair, Vatican II made many concessions in the direction of ecumenical dialogue, but this writer cannot in good conscience agree with an idea of church that, by the necessity of its own logic, excludes other communities of baptized people who gather for worship and partake in the Lord’s Supper.In order to defend such a claim, I must demonstrate that something else constitutes a church. To clarify, I do believe that a congregation that celebrates the Eucharist around its bishop is a desirable model of church, but it does not by itself constitute it. Indeed, the Eucharist is the source and summit of the church’s life and the bishop provides the visible connection and helps bring the particular church into communion with other churches. However, it is not the Eucharist and a bishop that constitutes our identity as church. Rather, our identity as church is grounded in our having been called into communion with the Triune God. In other words, we are constituted by God as we participate in this communion. All of this is not to deny the importance of the Eucharist; nor is it to discredit the function of the bishop. However, to claim that these two elements of the church’s life constitute its being as such, fails to fully recognize that only the Triune God calls the church into being, and that our participation in this communion is a flawed participation. This does not mean that we cease to be church; it does mean that what constitutes church cannot be solely identified on the basis of particular ecclesial practices.
