Groundless Leonine Prognostications

 

Remember back after the 2013 conclave when papolaters were predicting something called the "Francis Effect"? The Francis Effect was supposed to be a worldwide Catholic renewal brought about in the wake of Jorge Bergoglio's accession to the chair of Peter. All sorts of nonsense was predicted: a boom in vocations, lapsed Catholics returning to the faith, global missionary successes, mass conversions—all flowing from the luminous example proferred by His Humbleness.

The Context of Cajetan's Comments on Praying for a Pope's Death

There was recently a little kerfluffle online after Dr. Peter Kwasniewski shared a quote from Thomas Cajetan (1469-1534) to the effect that Christians should pray for the removal of a bad pope (and given that popes historically reign for life, this functionally means praying for his death). Hyperpapalists, of course, were hyperventilating about the citation while traditionalists reacted with confusion as to how a quote from one of the greatest theologians of the Renaissance could occasion such vitriol.

Another Bold Stroke from the Pope of the Peripheries

On June 15 Pope Francis issued rescript changing Canon Law. The rescript, which takes immediate effect, prohibits any diocesan bishop from erecting a Public Association of the Faithful wishing eventually to become an institute of consecrated life or a society of apostolic life without explicit written permission of the Vatican Dicastery in charge of such institutes/societies. Essentially, the Vatican has assumed control over the establishment of all religious communities and priestly orders. 

Though it is not specified, it is assumed that this is primarily aimed to halt the formation of new traditional associations. It is clear from numerous statements by Francis—including his screed against traditionalist "restorers" made only one day before the issuance of the rescript—that Francis considers traditionalists the greatest threat to the modern Church. I have seen some banter online of people saying, "Don't assume this is about traditionalists" and "traddiedom is not the center of the Church." But to Francis it is. To Francis, traditionalism is the great enemy of his time. And he has not attacked any other segment of the Church as he has traditionalists. Therefore it is more than reasonable to assume this rescript is issued with traditional Catholics in mind.

The Dicastery in reference is run by de Aviz and Carballo, whom Dr. Kwasniewski referred to as "progressivist thugs", a sentiment I completely agree with. The chances of any traditional association receiving the requisite institutional approval from these gatekeepers is nonexistent.

I offer a few reflections on this development:

1) The Total Overthrow of Institutional Credibility

The Catholic Church has spent the last several decades destroying its institutional credibility, at least understood from a human perspective. The Church once possessed great institutional credibility; I am continually amazed, when I read histories of ecclesiastical events of the pontificates of Pius IX or Pius X, how the mere hint that the pope or some Congregation wanted something was enough to compel complete obedience, even beyond what the authorities asked for. But those days are long, long gone. The Church itself has continually debased its own institutional credibility since Vatican II by torrents of abuses gone too long unchecked, by the stream of garbled nonsense that is ceaselessly vomited out of the Vatican, and by unjust persecutions of Catholics whose only crime was to hold their tradition too dearly. The Church has spent a generation cultivating the mindset that the letter of the law doesn't ultimately matter; the "spirit" and the "signs of the times" are much more important. 

Thus, having worked so hard to enthrone the spirit, it is laughable that the Vatican now thinks it can rule by the letter; having spent a generation undermining the value of the letter, it now wishes to subvert the authority of every bishop by pen stroke. It is almost comedic. Liberals have long ignored the letter of the law; and Traditionalists have realized the implementation of the law is hopelessly stacked against them. The only ones still trying to square the circle are the naïve neo-Catholics, who have their heads so deep in the sand they can see Beijing. Traditionalism arose despite the letter of the law and it will not be crushed by the letter of the law—especially a law whose import has been eviscerated by decades of the Vatican's selective interpretation.

2) Necessity of New Models of Organization

But if no more traditional institutes are allowed to be erected by bishops on their own initiative, how shall we escape the letter of the law? The answer is simply that we will have recourse to organizational models not envisioned by the current canonical strictures. I refer you to an article called "Into the Woods" I wrote in 2018 in the aftermath of the Congregation for the Institutes of Consecrated Life document Cor Orans, which essentially revolutionized the way women's religious communities governed themselves. The gist of the essay is that as the institutional Church becomes more untrustworthy under the current zeitgeist, traditional movements will be more about living a certain lifestyle than obtaining any specific ecclesiastical status. The Vatican might regulate the episcopal erection of new religious institutes, but it can do nothing against a group of individuals living together and making their own private vows. It may prohibit the creation of a new priestly society dedicated to the Traditional Latin Mass, but it cannot prohibit priests who love the Traditional Latin Mass from organizing on their own outside of official channels. It may prohibit the Latin Mass being said in diocesan parishes, but it cannot prevent it being said in private venues. The Church can shove the NAB and the Liturgy of the Hours at me as much as they please, but they can't prevent me gathering with likeminded men to pray the traditional Divine Office in Latin. Whatever we want done, we are going to have to do it ourselves—not by going "against" ecclesiastical authority in any schismatic sense, but by merely operating in spheres where ecclesiastical authority has no say. This is how Christendom was built; St. Benedict had no episcopal letter when he clambered up the slopes of Mount Subiaco and wandered into a cave.

3) Machiavellian Delegation and the Farce of Synodality

In case anyone had any shred of doubt left, this should make it perfectly clear that Pope Francis's ideas about "decentralization" and "synodality" are farcical. The same pope who allegedly wants to allow local bishops' conferences to make true doctrinal judgments also wants to tell bishops what organizations they can and cannot erect in their own dioceses. This is the same pontificate that, in the explanatory letter after Traditionis Custodes, purported to tell individual parishes what they could and could not advertise on the parish website or in the parish bulletin. The same pontificate who has systematically dismantled the independence of various religious orders and trampled on their charisms. Decentralization and synodality indeed!

Francis does not, and has never wanted, decentralization. Rather, he believes in what I would call Machiavellian delegation. Actual decentralization is too risky. After all, bishops like Cordileone and Mutsaerts exist, and we can't risk allowing more space for their ideas. He lacks the testicular fortitude to throw the cards to the wind and see where they land. Actual administrative control must be centralized as much as possible. But, since Francis is the pope of the peripheries, he needs his more revolutionary bold-stroke changes to appear to come "from the people"; after all, if everything were imposed from top down, it would merely reinforce the caricature of Francis as a dictator pope. So certain things are strategically delegated to local churches where and when Francis knows they will return a result favorable to his overall agenda.  In this way the most radical changes can appear to have come "from the peripheries," their adoption being presented not as a bureaucratic fiat but as yielding to the vox populi that the God of surprises foists on us. It is a machination worthy of Pontius Pilate. To put it bluntly, power is centralized, but revolutionary change is outsourced. If I were to illustrate the movement of Machiavellian delegation, it would look like this, where Rome is the yellow dot and "the peripheries" are the blue:

Taking control of religious orders and priestly societies? That power can be assumed by Rome. Married viri probati clerics? That change must come from the Amazon. Regulating the Latin Mass and forbidding parishes to advertise it? That power can be assumed by Rome. Allowing Holy Communion for the divorced and civilly remarried? That change must come from Germany. Of course which specific "peripheries" this radical change is outsourced to are matters of calculated deliberation; you'll never see the Vatican allowing the African bishops to take the path of synodality when it comes to handling same sex marriage. It's all carefully crafted theater rigged to return pre-determined results.

4) We Follow the Way

For us, though, this is ultimately about a way of life, not who has institutional control. I don't mean to downplay the importance of institutional control; and God willing, one day, the institution will be better, the ship's course will be righted, and mother will not be drunk anymore. Until that happens, however, what we are seeking is a way of life. In the New Testament and the earliest Christian writings, the Catholic faith was referred to as "the Way," and Christians were called "followers of the Way." This sort of thinking has greatly benefitted my own spiritual life during these difficult times. I am seeking a city whose builder and maker is God (cf. Heb. 11:10). The regime the Church finds itself under can annoy me, make me drive a little farther, make me jump through a few more hoops, make me roll my eyes, but it can't ultimately stop me from following the path our Lord Jesus has laid out. It cannot stop me from living the Faith of our ancestors and loving our traditions. 

But if things get so bad that I am deprived of certain spiritual benefits through no fault of my own, will God hold me to account? Certainly not. "For," the Scriptures say, "if the readiness is there, it is acceptable according to what a man has, not according to what he has not" (2 Cor. 8:12). This means that if I earnestly will to follow God with my whole heart, I cannot be judged for what I lack, only what I have. It's not about how many talents I have, but what I do with whatever amount has been entrusted to me. God chose you to live in these times. He wants you here. And if we believe at all in God's Providence, that should be a very encouraging thought. The pope can make certain aspects of my external observance difficult, but he cannot touch the pearl of great price. "My Father is greater than all...and no one is able to snatch them out of my hand" (John 10:28). The corrupt regime in Rome is only able to knock me off the path to the degree that I let them. 

Stand Fast

So stand fast, brethren. Follow the Lamb wherever He goes. Purify your hearts, so you can hear His voice. And remember, "Neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord (Rom. 8:38-39).

Propriae auctoritates apostolicae sedis

[Apr 15, 2021] While studying use of the pallium during the reform papacy of the 11th century, I came across a fascinating document that has great relevance to the question of whether a pope can be condemned or lose his office for denying the Catholic faith. I have never seen this document referenced in any discussion on the subject, so I want to introduce it here. Others more educated than I on theological matters can debate its merits.

In 1075 the papacy of Pope St. Gregory VII promulgated a syllabus on papal power known as Dictatus Papae. Dictatus Papae was meant to be a synopsis of the pope's prerogatives drawn from previous papal letters and canonical legislation, not unlike the Syllabus of Errors of Pope Pius IX. The nineteenth thesis of Dictatus Papae says of the Roman pontiff:

19. That he himself may be judged by no one

This refers to the canonical principle prime sedes a nemine iudicatur ("the first see is judged by no one"), a maxim that dates to the pontificate of Pope Symmachus (498-514), who was put on trial for various crimes alleged by King Theodoric the Ostrogoth. The episcopal synod summoned to try Symmachus refused to even pass judgment, on the premise that "the first see is judged by no one." Pope Gregory VII wished to call this episode to mind in Dictatus Papae, as he himself was in a similar predicament with Holy Roman Emperor Henry IV over the matter of lay investiture. He wanted to stress that no one could pass judgment on the pope, whether ruler or episcopal synod. [1]

Dictatus Papae is a well known document, but what is not so familiar is that shortly after the promulgation of Dictatus Papae another syllabus was published. Called Propriae auctoritates apostolicae sedis ("The Powers Proper to the Holy See"),  this document was meant to elaborate on the theses of Dictatus Papae [2]. Issued sometime between 1075 and 1085, these theses should be read in conjunction with Dicatus Papae, which it is meant to support and expand upon.

Thus, we see that thesis 19 of Dictatus Papae is expanded in Propriae auctoritates apostolicae sedis, the seventh thesis of which says:

7. The pope may be judged by no one, even if he should deny the faith, as is seen from [Pope] Marcellinus

Apparently, the curia of Gregory VII did not think the 19th thesis of Dictatus Papae was explicit enough, so they desired to restate the maxim with the addition "even if he should deny the faith, as is seen by Marcellinus." The details of how this thesis came to be are unknown, but the implication is that the imperial propagandists of Henry IV had responded to Dictatus Papae by arguing that a pope could not be judged unless he had denied the faith. Gregory VII responded by appealing to the case of Pope Marcellinus, who had in fact publicly apostasized (or was at least believed to have) and yet did not lose his office. While Dictatus Papae 19 references a criminal trial (of Pope Symmachus), Propriae auctoritates apostolicae sedis 7 references a case of public loss of faith. The implication is that the Magisterium of Pope Gregory VII meant to teach that a pope could not be judged or deposed even if he had specifically denied the faith.

I am not competent to comment on the authority or theological import of the document, but future discussions about theoretically deposing a pope should most certainly factor in this document, as it was promulgated under the Pope Gregory VII specifically in part to address this very question.

NOTES

[1] Thus Gregory categorically rejected the authority of the Synod of Brixen (1080) which condemned Gregory of various crimes and that the pope "should be canonically deposed and expelled and condemned in perpetuity, if, having heard this [decree], he does not step down."

[2] The text of Propriae auctoritates apostolicae sedis was found in a German language work by Hubert Mordek, 'Proprie auctoritates apostolice sedis. Ein zweiter Dictatus papae Gregors VII.?', Deutsches Archiv für Erforschung des Mittelalters 28 (1972), pp. 105-32 Translated by T. Reuter.

Papal Nullification: Revisiting the Cadaver Synod

The crisis precipitated by the Franciscan pontificate has faithful Catholics struggling to come to terms with the state of the Church and desperate for any means of redressing the calamities we have witnessed since 2013. Some are speculating that Benedict XVI did not validly resign and is still in fact pope; others are hoping that a future convocation of bishops of cardinals declare that Francis has vacated the papal office. All thoughts are bent on ways to undo or at least halt the unprecedented damage that this man continues to do to the Church every day he remains in office.

One frequently overlooked remedy to the current crisis is that a future pope can annul the acts of a previous pope. This has occurred on various occasions throughout Church history, but probably the most striking example of it was in the conflict between Pope Formosus and Pope Stephen VI, the popes of Cadaver Synod fame.

It is beyond the scope of this brief essay to trace the background of the controversy between the two parties; much of it is political and bound up with the affairs of the late Carolingian dynasty. Pope Stephen VI (r. 896-897) famously dug up the corpse of Pope Formosus and put him on trial for alleged crimes committed during the episcopal career of the latter, which resulted in the body of Formosus being desecrated and sunk in the Tiber. The Cadaver Synod is usually presented as an exemplar of papal corruption during the era of the Saeculum obscurum, the period in the late 9th and early 10th centuries when political corruption and immorality brought the papacy to its moral nadir--and indeed, the Cadaver Synod does exemplify this age of scandal most spectacularly.

But here I am more concerned with the acts of the Synod, rather than its shock value. The Cadaver Synod was a synod convened by Pope Stephen VI and held before the Roman clergy in January of 897. The synod published several acts, which were confirmed by the decree of Pope Stephen:

• Declared Pope Formosus had been "unworthy" of the papacy
• Declared his papal election invalid by reason of the violation of the 15th canon of the Second Council of Nicaea prohibiting the holding of multiple benefices by clergy (Pope Formosus had been elevated to the papacy while simultaneously exercising jurisdiction over the See of Porto)
• Nullified all the decrees of Pope Formosus
• Declared the orders conferred by Pope Formosus null by virtue of the illegitimacy of his papal election

The nullification of Formosus' orders was politically motivated, aimed at purging the Italian clergy of partisans of Formosus' party. To that end, his election had to be invalidated, to which the appeal of Second Nicaea was an afterthought. In other words, the architects of the Cadaver Synod did not think Formosus' election was invalid and ergo nullified his ordinations; rather, they began by wanting to nullify his ordinations and thus declared his papal election invalid as a means to that end.

Pope Stephen died shortly after the synod, murdered while imprisoned. Stephen's acts were wildly unpopular. The nullification of Formosus' orders had caused widespread chaos in the Church, as many of these clergy had already ordained others, whose own ordinations were now being called into question. The subsequent pope, Theodore II, annulled the decisions of the Cadaver Synod in 897, declaring all of Formosus' ordinations valid.  Another pope, John IX, confirmed the acts of Theodore II in two future synods, one held in Rome and another at Ravenna in 898. The latter synod not only nullified the acts of the Cadaver Synod but ordered them destroyed. The Synod of Ravenna also excommunicated the seven cardinals involved in the Cadaver Synod and henceforth prohibited the trial of any deceased person.

The story does not end there, though. In 904 Pope Sergius III ascended the Chair of Peter. An enemy of Formosus' party, Sergius tried to undo what his predecessors had done; he formally nullified the decrees of the synods of Theodore II and John IX and reaffirmed the decrees of the Cadaver Synod, declaring the orders conferred by Formosus to be invalid.

The interesting thing is that, while Sergius' decrees were never themselves invalidated, they were subsequently ignored. The Church continued to uphold the prior decrees of Theodore II and John IX while simply ignoring those of Sergius III, which are technically the last canonical judgment on the Cadaver Synod. The Church essentially acted like the decree of Sergius III never happened.

It gets even messier—Sergius declared the orders of Formosus invalid. If this were the case, then Sergius' own episcopal orders would be invalidated as well, as he received his own episcopal consecration from Pope Formosus in 893. Theodore II had declared Sergius' episcopal consecration valid by a special decree during his brief pontificate, but if Sergius annulled the synod convened by Theodore II then it is difficult to see how he did not annul his own episcopal consecration. This would not have invalidated his papacy, but it could have invalidated the holy orders he conferred during his own papacy.

The era of the Cadaver Synod controversy spanned 14 years. During this time we see popes frequently having recourse to nullifying the decrees of their predecessors:

• Stephen VI annulled the acts of Formosus
• Theodore II annulled the Cadaver Synod and its acts
• John IX reaffirmed the annulment of Theodore II and had the acta of the Cadaver Synod destroyed
• Sergius III annulled the decrees of Theodore II and nullified the two synods of John IX

By the time of Sergius' final decrees of nullification, the Church apparently got tired of the back and forth and simply ignored the acts of Pope Sergius.

It is not relevant to this post which partisan was correct or whether these decrees of nullification were abused. The point is that the episode provides a striking piece of historical testimony to the ability of the popes to nullify the decrees of their predecessors—even nullifying entire synods. No pope, theologian, or canonist at the time or since disputed that the popes had the power to do this.

The problem with the Cadaver Synod, canonically speaking, is that Stephen reached too far. He should have been content with condemning Formosus as "unworthy" of the papacy and nullifying his decrees and episcopal appointments. This is within the authority of any pope. But when Stephen tried to declare Formosus' orders invalid he went too far, for rather than seeking to undo the acts of a single man he struck out at an entire swath of the clergy with a judgment which, if true, would have thrown the hierarchy into chaos.

Incidentally, the charge that Formosus was invalidly elected is without merit; the 15th canon of Second Nicaea does prohibit a cleric from holding two offices simultaneously. But it does not state that this cannot be validly done, only that it "savours of merchandise and filthy lucre" and that a cleric "ought" to hold only one office at a time, but it does not say he loses his office if he disobeys the canon. There is no indication that this canon would invalidate Formosus' papal election. And even if his papal election were invalid, this would not invalidate the Holy Orders conferred by Formosus, as the validity of ordination flows from episcopal orders--and nobody had ever denied that Formosus was a legitimately ordained bishop.

The moral of the story is this: it is within the authority of a future pontiff to nullify the decrees of a current or former pontiff. Taking the pontificate of Pope Francis for example, a future pope could nullify Cor Orans, nullify Francis' acts with regards to the Franciscans of the Immaculate and the Knights of Malta; while Francis' episcopal consecrations could not be nullified, all of his administrative appointments could be--that is, a future pope could say "Every cleric who holds an office by appointment of Pope Francis shall immediately cease exercising authority in that office and is to be considered removed from said office" while he takes time to figure out what to do with them. Furthermore, he could declare that the Synods of the Family, the Synod on Youth, and the Synod of the Amazon were all annulled--along with their subsequent Apostolic Exhortations. He could decree that Pope Francis was "unworthy" of the Chair of St. Peter and issue what amounts to a damnatio memoriae of the Franciscan pontificate.

Or, following the example of the Church in the age of Sergius III, a future pope could simply ignore the age of Pope Francis as thoroughly as Francis ignores the his predecessors prior to 1963.

Is it likely that all of this will happen? I doubt it. I suspect the next pope will probably try to out-Francis Francis. But the point is there is a way to undo this sort of damage without having to resort to Sedevacantist or Bennyvacantist hypotheses, or hoping that some sort of gathering of cardinals will declare that Francis has vacated the office. The course I have explained here is a much more realistic way of proceeding, because it has happened before, and on more occasions than just those narrated here.

Of course, like any other hypotheses, what I have written here makes the massive assumption that a future pope will actually want to undo what Francis has done and have the testicular fortitude to do so. Bu given the zeitgeist, I'm not holding my breath. We have much longer to suffer through our own age's Saeculum obscurum.

And what does it say about our own troubles when I have to reach back to the Cadaver Synod to find some precedents for digging ourselves out of them?

Theology of the Body is not Catholic Teaching

The title of this essay is admittedly a bit provocative, but it is my hope that this will lead to the article being shared with well-meaning Catholics who seem to be muddled on the authority of John Paul II's teachings on human sexuality known as "Theology of the Body."

The immediate impetus for publishing this essay was a recent exchange I had with a young woman who was telling me that "the Church's teaching" on some point of sexual ethics was such-and-such. I told her that I had never heard that such-and-such was the Church's official position, and as if to prove her point she referred me to a citation from a Christopher West book on Theology of the Body. She was surprised when I told her that Theology of the Body is not official Catholic teaching and that Christopher West is certainly not any sort of official organ of Catholic dogma. This was actually news to her; she had been under the impression that Christopher West was some sort of authoritative interpreter or what she took to be a dogmatic teaching of the Church.

Therefore, let me say it again plainly: the teachings known collectively as Theology of the Body are not authoritative Catholic teaching. In this essay I hope to explain why—but contrary to many traditionalist critiques of Theology of Body, I will not in any way be addressing the content of John Paul II's teaching on the subject. So don't get excited; this is not going to be some take-down of the content of Theology of the Body. I think the argument that Theology of the Body is not authoritative can easily be made by an appeal to the manner in which it was communicated by the late John Paul II without ever having to wade into the morass of critiquing the principles of TOB.

Before we begin, it is necessary to understand the background of TOB and why John Paul II thought the Church needed a new grounding for sexual ethics.

Prior to the post-Conciliar era, Catholic sexual ethics were largely centered on the procreative ends of the sexual act viewed through a Thomistic-Aristotelian framework. Those things which were conducive to the natural ends of the sexual act were permissible, those that hindered the fulfillment of those ends were not. This is all well and good, but from the point of view of John Paul II, this approach had two distinct downsides:

(1) The pedagogy of Catholic sexual ethics tended to be reduced to a series of "don'ts" grounded in mere obligation and obedience.

(2) The sexual act tended to be discussed only with reference to things external to the spouses themselves (i.e., the procreation of children, or the obligations laid upon the couple by God and the Church).

The first point is admittedly a problem I have often seen in older Catholic literature on relationships and sexual ethics. There is a Fr. Lovasik flyer or pamphlet on Catholic dating that is essentially one long list of prohibitions. Catholic sexual ethics are weakened when they are reduced to simply telling single people "Don't fornicate! Don't fornicate! For the love of God, DON'T FORNICATE!"

The second objection holds some validity as well; people want—I would argue need—to have intrinsic motivations for their actions. Appeals to authority or the procreation of children, even though they are perfectly valid, are not always enough for some people to get on board. For example, people whose only substantial argument against divorce are that it can harm the children don't have much of an argument when addressing an infertile couple considering divorce. Similarly, in education, it is not sufficient to tell a student "You must learn this material because if you don't you will get grounded by your parents and won't be able to get into college." Both of those things may be true, but they are what we would call extrinsic motivations; students do not truly learn and internalize material—do not truly enjoy and embrace education—unless they have an intrinsic motivation based on wanting to know the material for its own sake because it is interesting to them.

Pope John Paul II wanted to give Catholic couples an explanation of the Church's sexual ethics that was not based on an ethics of obligation or reference to procreation alone. Now, the Church's tradition already had some raw material for this in the concept of "the good of the spouses" as one of the ends of matrimony. John Paul II sought to elaborate on this aspect of the sexuality and chose as his point of reference the school of thought known as Personalism or Phenomenology. It is beyond the scope of this article to give a comprehensive account of Personalism as a philosophy, but it suffices to say that Personalism takes an approach to ethics that makes the reference point of moral actions the dignity of the human person (if you've noticed the ubiquity of the phrases like "human person" and "dignity of the human person" in modern Catholic literature, it is due in large part to the influence of the introduction of a Personalist vocabulary into Catholic thinking).

I am neither pro nor anti-Personalism; and please don't spam the comments with links or YouTube videos arguing one way or another on it. It's not relevant. The point is, John Paul II thought the Personalist vocabulary could help provide Catholics with a fuller picture of sexuality that could fill out the traditional approach by using the good of persons as a point of reference. In other words, instead of just telling Catholics what they should not do regarding sex, John Paul II wanted to tell them what they should do, and more importantly, why they should do it. This goal is at the heart of Theology of the Body. And it's not an ignoble goal. Catholics ought to understand what they should be doing and why with regards to sex. Too many Catholic couples are crippled with debilitating anxiety, uncertainty, ignorance, and embarrassment about sex—and I am talking about traditional Catholics as well as mainstream Catholics.

But I digress. So, John Paul wanted to deliver a fuller explanation of the Church's ideas about human sexuality using Personalist ideas to help build a more anthropological case for the Church's teaching that would give Catholics a deeper intrinsic motivation to live out the Church's integrated vision for marriage, sexuality, and family life. These ideas he fleshed out in a series of Wednesday audiences spanning five years, from September 1979 to November of 1984. It was this series of speeches which were later collected and termed Theology of the Body.

Why is Theology of the Body not an authoritative teaching of the Church? Catholics know (or ought to know) that papal statements carry different levels of authority. An ex cathedra declaration is infallible; papal encyclicals and apostolic exhortations where the pope intends to teach authoritatively are of very great authority as well. These are the sorts of papal teachings that command the assent of the faithful; ex cathedra teachings demand the assent of the Catholic faith, while others call for human assent.

But below this, there are teachings of the pope that are of lower authority. This could include letters (such as John Paul II's "Letter to Artists") or formal addresses (John Paul's "Address to Scientists of the Pontifical Academy of Sciences"). In these sorts of teachings, the pope is often speaking as a private theologian, or even if he is speaking as pope, he is speaking on matters that are more particular and are not considered universal teachings of the Church. Often times he is giving his opinion on a matter. These letters may later be collated into a single body of teaching and granted a higher level authority (Dictatus Papae of St. Gregory VII and the Syllabus of Errors of Bl. Pius IX were both authoritative documents composed of excerpts of papal letters), but the excerpts of the letters were later elevated to this level of authority by subsequent papal acts.

A still lower level of papal teaching comes from verbal statements made by the pope in the context of homilies, audiences, ad limina visits, and other formal occasions. In a papal homily or audience, the pope is speaking merely as a pastor and private theologian. Now, if we recall, TOB was originally this level of communication. It was a series of speeches given in the pope's Wednesday audiences. These audiences were subsequently compiled by independent authors—for example, Christopher West—and marketed as "The Theology of the Body." This has given the illusion of a comprehensive, single corpus of thought to what was essentially a series of homilies on a common theme given over many years. Some Catholics even think Theology of the Body is an encyclical.

A collection of papal speeches cannot be an authoritative teaching of the Church. Though John Paul later reiterated some of the themes from the TOB audiences into his encyclicals, there has never been the sort of wholesale elevation of his particular audience statements to the level of authoritative teaching, such as occurred with Dictatus Papae or the Syllabus of Errors. Theology of the Body is essentially a very popular collection of papal speeches, but it does not constitute "the teaching of the Church" anymore than if we took a collection of Francis' scattered statements on ecology, smooshed them into a single volume and called it "The Theology of the Earth." Such would not be Catholic teaching, no matter how popular it was.

Incidentally, speaking of Pope Francis, there is a level of papal teaching even lower down on the food chain than speeches and homilies: that is unplanned, informal, "off the cuff" remarks. And yet these very sorts of statements are somehow supposed to constitute the most important teachings of the Franciscan pontificate. This just demonstrates how backwards things have become where Catholics feel free to ignore the authoritative teaching of the Councils but a pope's comment on an airplane is treated like a fifth Gospel.

At any rate, regardless of what you think of the content of Theology of the Body, it should be clear that TOB is not any sort of authoritative Catholic teaching. It is essentially a compilation of papal speeches that has gained a broad popularity among contemporary Catholics. I do not blame the young woman for thinking TOB was authoritative; the way it is trumpeted about, the lauds that are heaped upon it, and the ubiquity of Christopher West materials gives the impression that this collection of speeches has way more weight than it does. If only the Church would push authentic liturgical renewal with the same vigor that TOB is popularized!

Mainstream Catholics who think TOB is Catholic dogma are simply wrong—as are trads who will inevitably come back with "Theology of the Body is modernist heresy!" and other such nonsense statements. Ultimately, TOB is merely one pope's idealized pet project for better explaining Catholic sexual ethics to modern man, no more, no less. 

Guest Post: "Revisiting Our Concept of Authority" by Kevin Tierney

Today I am featuring a guest post from my friend and colleague Kevin Tierney on the subject of stepping back and revisiting our attitudes towards authority within the Catholic hierarchy.

Kevin is a writer living in Brighton, Michigan. His works have appeared regularly on Catholic Exchange and other venues. You may follow him on Facebook or Twitter (@catholicsmark).

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As the USCCB meets to discuss how best to implement new norms regarding sexual abuse, is everyone ready for the predictable debate about if homosexuality or clericalism are the big problem causing the crisis? I’m not, it’s a tired debate. I also think it can be sidestepped if we go a little deeper. I think that if we want to solve the problems the Church is beset it, its going to require us to go deeper, as uncomfortable as it makes us. I speak of the problems we Catholics have in articulating authority.

Before you reach for your “I would not believe the Gospel if not for the authority of the Catholic Church” (you don’t understand that quote) from Augustine, let’s talk about what authority is.  In most debates today in the Church, “authority” is a question of “who has the power” or “who can compel you to do something.”  Hence a critic of the pope is said to be undermining his authority, because people will not look to him for guidance if they hear he’s a bad pope.  The authority of the bishop is viewed in terms of the authority to execute justice and to direct policy in his diocese. To use a musical analogy, the priests and laity are instruments, the bishop is a conductor.  Or on a higher level, the pope is the conductor, and everyone else are the instruments.  In the words of one Catholic writer, we must become “the kind of Catholics Pope Francis wants us to be.”   To use an old analogy, the pope or bishop is the potter, we are the clay.  You may think that this situation would change under a “traditional pope”, but I am not that optimistic.

Even worse, authority is treated as a zero sum game.  To the extent the pope exercises authority, it comes at the expense of the bishops, or vice versa.  This was precisely the reasoning Rome gave in demanding the USCCB suspend any of their previous reforms, as these reforms would not give Rome a free hand to propose their own later reforms.  Rather than treating the reforms as a baseline that would be maintained but also adapted to meet local situations (strengthened where necessary), these were put forth with the expectation they would be the final word, and the USCCB has made clear that when they meet, do not expect much if any daylight from Vos Estis and their position, despite the fact they are freely clear to mandate additional reforms or additional mechanisms to make the rules more efficient.

This view of authority is, to put it bluntly, not Christian in the slightest.  To the extent it is believed, it is a religion that is not Christianity. It finds no basis in the Scriptures or Tradition. Worse, it is condemned explicitly by our Lord in the Gospel of Luke.  Yet this attitude has become a part of contemporary Catholicism.  To demonstrate why it is wrong, we must consider two questions:  what is the purpose of authority, and how is authority exercised?  

In a scene that could be repeated countless times throughout human history, the Apostles argue among themselves over who the best is, no doubt hoping the winner of that argument can catch Christ’s attention and be confirmed as the best.  Being the best involves prestige, authority, recognition, in a word, power.  Christ’s answer to this display is instructive for us:

“The kings of the Gentiles lord it over them; and those in authority over them are called benefactors. But not so with you; rather the greatest among you must become like the youngest, and the leader like one who serves. For who is greater, the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one at the table? But I am among you as one who serves. (Luke 22:25-27)

The very concept of authority that we have is the very concept of authority Christ is concerned about.  In the political economy, it makes sense to understand authority primarily in the sense of who has power, and how that power can be wielded. That kind of understanding has its limits in the realm of the Church, which at its core is a family.  When the head of the family is primarily concerned with showing off his authority and reminding everyone else of their subservience, that family does not function.  Rather, for us, the point of authority is of service, not dominion.  In the Bible, whether it be the Gospels or the epistles of the Apostles, authority is described in terms of “making firm”, “setting straight”, never in the sense of imposing order or imposing a vision others must conform to.  The authority of the Apostles was not doubted (well at least not by the orthodox believer), but to understand authority in the terms of wielding and exercising power would have been foreign to them.

 In regards to how power is distributed or exercised, this case becomes even clearer.  Does Christ view the role of Peter as to transform his brethren into a different kind of Christian?  Is it to endlessly dictate policy to his brother bishops?

“Simon, Simon, Satan has demanded to sift all of you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your own faith may not fail; and you, when once you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.” (Luke 22:31-32)

The role of Peter is fundamentally a role of supporting the Apostles, helping them remain firm against the attacks of the devil.  Sometimes that will involve settling disputes, and it will involve compelling obedience.  Yet the Bible avoids such grandiose visions of authority for a reason.  We see this line of thought continued within the Church fathers.  While many look at the local bishop as a conductor of the tools of his diocese, St. Ignatius of Antioch looks at it differently:

"For your justly renowned presbytery, worthy of God, is fitted as exactly to the bishop as the strings are to the harp. Therefore in your concord and harmonious love, Jesus Christ is sung. And man by man, become a choir, that being harmonious in love, and taking up the song of God in unison, you may with one voice sing to the Father through Jesus Christ, so that He may both hear you, and perceive by your works that you are indeed the members of His Son" (Epistle to the Ephesians, Chapter IV)

Ignatius is the man in the earliest Church who laid out the clearest vision for the local bishop.  He presented the strongest vision of the monarchial episcopate in the Fathers.  Yet he also rejects the notion of authority present so often in the Church of our authorities as conductors of a symphony.  Rather, he is the harp that the strings attach themselves to.  The harp doesn’t direct the strings, but without the firmness of the harp, the strings cannot work together to make music.  Once the music is made, the faithful join in and then the symphony is produced.  The conductor is God, not the Bishop.

I sincerely believe that abandoning this model of authority has gotten us into a lot of trouble, especially in the present crisis.  Faced with the activities of robber bishop Michael Bransfield, the financial council of the diocese was “passive.”  Outside auditors were afraid to challenge him, “because of the Bishops position.”  Popes made serious mistakes in handling the abuse crisis, but hey, its their Church, they can run it as they see fit, right?

None of this is written to deny the pope’s authority, nor his jurisdiction.  Nor is it to deny that on prudential issues, the pope does indeed have a wide authority to take action (or not) as he sees fit.  Yet just because someone is given a position of authority, does not mean that authority should be wielded without question, or without a suggestion that it be wielded better.  Imagine if bishops stood up to the code of silence regarding abuse?  Imagine if diocesan employees refused to cooperate with the shuffling of predator priests while hiding it from the community?  Imagine if the financial practices of bishops were vigorously challenged by individuals who had just as much a stake in the success of the Church as the bishop does?  In terms of power, yes, bishops and the pope can make moves that others cannot.  Yet it is the job of the entire people of God to ensure that such authority is always used in the service of unity and making firm, and to never transform the local diocese or global church into the plaything of potenates.

Comments on the "Open Letter to the Bishops of the Catholic Church"

The past week has been full of discussion on the "Open Letter to the Bishops of the Catholic Church", a remarkable document put forward by a group of nineteen Catholic theologians and academics which—to use a phrase that has become all too familiar—makes "credible accusations" of heresy against Pope Francis and calls upon the bishops of the world to take some sort of action in rectifying the situation. If you have not yet read the "Open Letter", you can do so here.

1. The letter makes a very comprehensive case, drawing not only on particular statements of Pope Francis, but also his responses to the heretical statements of others (for example, the heretical interpretation of Amoris laetitia  published by the bishops of Buenos Aires in 2016, to which Pope Francis replied with a letter saying their document "completely explains the meaning" of Amoris laetitia and that "There are no other interpretations", a statement which he then had published in the Acta Apostolicae Sedis, the official compendium of his acta). The Open Letter also deals with Pope Francis's very troubling clerical appointments. Some Catholic apologists have been quick to point out that things like episcopal appointments or how the pope responds to news are not evidence of heresy, just like remaining passive or silent in response to requests for clear teaching is not heretical either. But I think these critiques miss the point; the Open Letter does not attempt to provide a single "gotcha" piece of evidence that presents and open and shut case for the pope's heresy. Rather, it attempts to show a general trend or broad disposition towards heresy on the part of the pope with several of the most striking examples highlighted as evidence. It is what Joseph Shaw referred to as a "promulgation [of heresy] by drift." And understood in this sense, it is brutally effective. Although I also tend to think that the examples are convincing taken individually as well.

2. Predictably, the Open Letter provoked responses from some who retreated to the tired old neo-Catholic canard that the signatories of the letter "should have gone to the pope directly" before airing their grievances publicly, or "going to their bishops in private first." Dr. Maike Hickson of LifeSite has written a remarkable piece chronicling around 30 times Catholics have reached out to Pope Francis—directly or indirectly—to clarify his teachings prior to the publication of the Open Letter. Her article ("Before Pope Francis was accused of heresy, Catholics reached out to him numerous times", May 9, 2019) is a must-read in order to understand the Open Letter in its historical context as the final recourse after the Dubia, Filial Correction, and many other attempts at communicating with Francis directly bore no fruit. Indeed, the publication of the Open Letter was not some rash screed hastily pumped out by a cadre of die-hard anti-Francis fanatics chomping at the bit for any excuse to attack the pope; rather, it represents the culmination of a long, exhausting series of attempts to reach out to Francis through the proper channels and is really a document of great restraint and patience. I commend the authors for taking this bold step. No Catholic rejoices or feels good about having to call out the pope; their actions must have been born out of deep concern for the Church and the good of souls and they should not be vilified for doing what was withing their canonical right and what their conscience dictated.

3. Christian charity demands that, when assessing the faults of others, we presume the best about them rather than the worst; in other words, we give them "the benefit of the doubt." But to give some one the benefit of the doubt presumes that there is room for doubt—it presumes that there is a certain ambiguity in how we interpret words and actions. And if there is ambiguity, we assume the best. But there is a huge difference between offering the benefit of the doubt and always being able to fabricate a benefit of the doubt. I have written about this before ("Benefit of the Doubt Presumes Doubt", Jan. 2017); in the case of Pope Francis, his litany of troubling statements and actions is so consistent that it is no longer realistic for a reasonable person to doubt the meaning of Francis's words or the intentions behind his initiatives; whether we look at the humorous Pope Francis Little Book of Insults or the more scholarly Denzinger-Bergoglio, the pontiff's thought is clear: he believes traditional Catholicism is a stuffy, hypocritical affair that keeps people from Christ and promotes "triumphalism" and "elitism." Heck, he even thinks standard Novus Ordo Catholicism is too stuffy; to that end, he intends to irreversibly reform global Catholic identity in the likeness of the most derelict Latin American banana-republics. It has gotten to the point where people who deny there is an issue are quite simply burying their heads in the sand.

4. Some bloggers are contending that the evidence is not sufficient to charge the pope with formal heresy, and therefore everything is alright. This is an incredibly simplistic and ridiculous argument. What these people fail to realize is that there is more than one way a teaching can be heretical—and I am not referring to the mere distinction between formal and material heresy. Traditionally, the Church used a gradation of judgments called theological censures. The division between heresy and orthodoxy is not necessarily black and white. There are "grades" of theological error; a statement can be not outright heretical but be simply ambiguous, for example. Or a statement may not be heretical in that it denies a de fide doctrine, but rather that its conclusions could lead to thinking that would be heretical.

Traditionally, heretical propositions are divided into three groups according as they bear principally upon (1) the import (what is said) (2) the expression (how it is said) (3) the consequences (what they lead to). Of import, we have hæretica (heretical), erronea (erroneous), hæresi proxima (next to heresy), errori proxima (next to error), temeratia (rash), etc. A "heretical" proposition is one that immediately and directly denies a de fide teaching. It is "erroneous" when it denies an article of faith that is certain (certa) but not de fide. "Next to heresy" and "next to error" means its opposition to a revealed and defined dogma is not certain, or chiefly when the truth it contradicts, though commonly accepted as revealed, has yet never been the object of a definition (proxima fidei). Something "next to heresy" could be defined as sapiens haeresim (smacking of heresy) or suspecta de hearesi, errorem (suspected of heresy or error). These are propositions which, though true textually, may due to modern currents of thought, be interpreted in a heretical way. I would say a lot of Pope Francis's most questionable statements fall into this latter category.

Next we come to the question of expression, or how the proposition is expressed. Here we can define four censures: ambigua (ambiguous), captiosa (captious), male sonans (evil-sounding), piarum aurium offensiva (offensive to pious ears), etc. A proposition is ambiguous when it is worded so as to present two or more senses, one of which is objectionable; captious when acceptable words are made to express objectionable thoughts; evil-sounding when improper words are used to express otherwise acceptable truths; offensive when verbal expression is such as rightly to shock the Catholic sense and delicacy of faith. Note that, while many pop-Catholic apologists will harp on that it is not heretical to speak ambiguously, the Church traditional theological censures to allow for a statement to be judged heretical based on its ambiguity alone.

Finally, we come to the question of consequences. Here we are dealing with what state of affairs the condemned propositions may lead to: subsannativa religionis (derisive of religion), decolorativa canodris ecclesiæ (defacing the beauty of the Church), subversiva hierarchiæ (subversive of the hierarchy), eversiva regnorum (destructive of governments), scandelosa, perniciosa, periculosa in moribus (scandalous, pernicious, dangerous to morals), blasphema, idolatra, superstisiosa, magica (blasphemous, leading to idolatry, superstition, sorcery), arrogans, acerba (arrogant, harsh), etc. This is not even an exhaustive list of the third group. Pope Francis' teachings relating to Amoris laetitia could be considered periculosa in moribus because, whether or not he has specifically stated as much himself, the fact that others are inferring heretical or immoral consequences from his words is sufficient to cast a heretical judgment upon his statements.

Let's be clear: YES, something can be heretical just based on how it is expressed. YES something merely ambiguous can be heretical. YES a statement can be heretical based on the immoral conclusions other people draw from it, even if the author does not express such intent; YES a statement can not contradict any truth of the faith itself but be considered heretical if following its implications leads to other heresy; YES something can be heretical if it is shocking to the ears of pious Catholics. YES a statement can be condemned because it is merely suspected of heresy. All of these condemnations fall short of a formal charge of heresy (explicitly and contumaciously denying a revealed dogma of the faith) but they are all gradations of heresy.

In other words, even if we were to grant a "benefit of the doubt" that Pope Francis has not promulgated a formal heresy, there are so many other ways his dubious comments could be construed as heretical or approximating to heresy that a censure would still be warranted and the pope's statements could still be considered heretical in ways that are less than formal. But nobody cares about theological censures anymore so this is just over the heads of many people.

5. The Open Letter, while accusing the pope of heresy, does not go so far as to assert that the pope ipso facto loses his office because of it. Rather, it calls upon the bishops of the Church to take action "to remedy the situation" by abjuring Pope Francis to make a public repudiation of these heresies and insist he suffer the canonical penalties proper to heresy if he does not. Although the Open Letter does not say it explicitly, it is evident that this means the loss of the papal office. I have never believed the proposition that the pope loses his office ipso facto for heresy. But I also deny that the Church (either the laity or the episcopate) has any remedy for removing a pope who does not wish to be removed. Though theologians have speculated on the ways and means for removing a heretical pope, I don't see how any of them can be affirmed without ultimately leading to some form of Conciliarism. When it comes to the theology of a papal deposition, all we have is theory—and that's not an argument against papal deposition, mind you; it's just pointing out it's never been done.

However, I think writers who stress theological opinions regarding papal deposition have ignored the fact that there is actually a large body of canonical legislation on the question; and more importantly, that this legislation is not merely hypothetical.

The Church's canonical tradition affirms a the principle prima sedes a nemine iudicatur ("The first See is judged by none"). The principle is universal; it refers to the clergy, secular rulers, as well as the laity. It is an absolute principle of papal independence against any attempt by any outside power whatsoever—even the episcopacy—to forcibly depose or judge a sitting pope. The principle prima sedes a nemine iudicatur first appears in the quasi-apocryphal Synod of Sinuessa (c. 314) relating to the problem of Pope St. Marcellinus, a pope who had apostasized under the Diocletian persecution (while, it should be noted, retaining the papal office and eventually becoming a saint). However, because many consider the acta of the Synod of Sinuessa forgeries, it is better to forgo Sinuessa and point to the historical Synod of Parma of 501-502 as the place when the principle enters the Church's canonical tradition. The pope at the time, Symmachus, was engaged in a schism with a rival papal claimant supported by the Byzantine Emperor. When called upon to pass judgment upon Pope Symmachus, the bishops at Parma declared prima sedes a nemine iudicatur ("The first See is judged by none"). And thus the concept of the immunity of the Roman pontiff from episcopal judgment passed into Canon Law.

It was reaffirmed many times. We see Pope St. Nicholas I (858-867) stating to the Byzantine Emperor that "Neither by Augustus, nor by all the clergy, nor by religious, nor by the people will the judge be judged...The first seat will not be judged by anyone" (Pope St. Nicholas I, Proposueramus quidem, Denz. 330).

 Pope Leo IX wrote in 1053 to the Patriarch of Constantinople that "By passing a preceding judgment on the great See, concerning which it is not permitted any man to pass judgment, you have received anathema from all the Fathers of all the venerable Councils..." (Pope St. Leo IX, "In terra pax hominibus" to Michael Cerularius and to Leo of Achrida, September 2, 1053, Denz. 352).

The principle was again enunciated by Pope St. Gregory VII in his famous bull Dictatus Papae, which was a collection of precedents regarding papal authority from the popes of the first millennium. There Gregory affirms that "That he [the pope] himself may be judged by no one" (Pope St. Gregory VII, Dictatus Papae, 19). The inclusion of  prima sedes a nemine iudicatur in Dictatus Papae is particularly important because Pope St. Gregory VII intended this document to be a kind of summation or syllabus of the most important, central teachings and canonical principles relating to the papacy. This principle was consistently reaffirmed in the Middle Ages and passed into the 1983 Code of Canon Law, which stipulates that no pope can be subjected to any kind of a trial. This is because he is beyond judgement (CIC 1556).

Canonically, there is no mechanism for removing a pope; not only this, but there is particular, perennial canonical legislation which specifically denies that a pope can be deposed. Even if the bishops of the world were to gather together to condemn Pope Francis of heresy, the most they could do would be to take a kind of vote of "no confidence" and plead with the Holy Father to voluntarily step down for the good of the Church. They could summon a synod, they could even declare his statements to be heretical to varying degrees; they could even declare he was "unworthy" of the papal office, as the famous Cadaver Synod did of Pope Formosus. But they could not declare he had forfeited his office—this was the exact situation the fathers at the Synod of Parma dealt with where prima sedes a nemine iudicatur was first elucdiated. They were not being asked to depose Pope Symmachus, but to declare that he was not truly pope or had forfeited his office. When called upon by the emperor to make such a proclamation, they deferred, saying no one could pass judgment on the first See. Similarly today, the bishops could not take any role in actively getting the pope out of office. They could deem him unworthy and his teachings heretical, express a statement of "no confidence", and then ask for the pope's resignation. But if he did not resign, the would not cease to be pope by the fact, and the bishops would have no power to make him step down.

Interestingly enough, when an opposing curial party wanted to get rid of Pope Stephen VI (897), they didn't depose him; they murdered him, because having the pope dead was so much simpler than dealing with the question of papal deposition against his will. I am not in any way remotely suggesting such a course be taken with Pope Francis; I cite the story as evidence that there exists no canonical way for getting rid of a pope, which is why they resorted to simply killing him.

Such are my thoughts for the time being, meager as they are. Bless you all, my brethren

Archbishop Viganò and our Vale of Tears

Greetings in Christ our Lord, my friends. I want to ask your forgiveness ahead of time for the length of this post, but as you know, these are very extraordinary times in the life of our beloved Church. News has been developing almost hourly. We are in a state of crisis.

The following post are simply some observations that have come to me over the past few days since the publication of Archbishop Vigano's letter on August 25th.

1. It is ridiculous how the media has played this as a "conservative coup" against Pope Francis. It is the Achilles heel of the secular media that they can only view any issue as part of a conservative versus liberal dichotomy. This is what the stupid two-party system has done to the American mind; binary politics leads to binary thinking. It's not unexpected, but it is sad. To secularists, this is just a political power struggle between conservatives and liberals. Unfortunately, many Catholics are buying into that thinking as well; for example, this dimwitted statement by Ave Maria University President Jim Towey. Yes, Catholic defenders of Pope Francis are also turning this into a political football, as when Cardinal Blaise Cupich said the accusations of Vigano were just a "rabbit hole" and that Francis was too busy to deal with the matter because of the "bigger agenda" of environmentalism and migrants' rights.

Of course, this "conservative reaction" narrative is ridiculous; I am not supporting a full investigation of American dioceses because I am a bitter conservative, nor am I suggesting Wuerl or Francis or anyone else resign because they are liberals. Wanting justice for those who have been sexually abused by clergy—and wanting to make sure Catholics of all ages and states in life can live their faith in an atmosphere of safety—is something that transcends the liberal-conservative divide. It is just a basic, fundamental good that everybody should agree on. It's disgusting that it is being politicized. But rest assured, Cardinal Cupich, this time Catholics are not going to be thrown off the scent. This time, no appeal to immigrant families or the environment or the death penalty or anything else will be able to save you. You tried to tweet a quote from John Paul II about peace and your followers simply responded with "RESIGN!" No, we're not being distracted again. This time it's your head. And Wuerl's. And Tobin's. And all the rest of you ilk. Even if you all somehow manage to avoid resignation in disgrace, the small semblance of moral authority you still think you possess is obliterated. The Vigano letter is just the beginning.

2. The story of how the Vigano letter came to publication is almost as fascinating as the letter itself. In case you have not familiarized yourself with the back story, I recommend the article "The Amazing Story of How Archbishop Vigano's Report Came to Be" on One Peter Five. It contains the English translation of the account of Italian journalist Dr. Aldo Maria Valli, who received and published the Vigano letter. Dr. Valli's story is illuminating and heart-wrenching; it presents Archbishop Vigano as a man wore out from a lifetime of dealing with the Vatican bureaucracy who is seeking to simply make his peace with God and his conscience before facing the judgement seat of Christ. But what is especially intriguing are Vigano's last words to Dr. Valli. Valli reports:

"He tells me he has already purchased an airplane ticket. He will leave the country. He cannot tell me where he is going. I am not to look for him. His old cell phone number will no longer work. We say goodbye for the last time."

Is the corruption in the upper echelons of the Church so advanced that a man must go into hiding and get off the grid for merely telling the truth? Clearly Vigano thinks so; clearly he fears for his very life. What powers does the Vatican have at its disposal that Vigano would be in fear of his life? Does it not put the sudden death of Cardinal Caffarra, one of the four signatories to the dubia, into a new perspective? This should really give us pause as we contemplate what sort of darkness we are facing.

3. Even the Neo-Catholics are getting on board. Steve Ray is calling for the resignation of Cupich, but more notably said "Even if the Lord doesn't come back for 1000 years, there will never be a pope who takes the name Francis II." He also tweeted "I never liked this pope...something from the beginning told me something was wrong with this guy." In a controversy with Ave Maria University President Jim Towey, Ray said, "Being loyal to the pope, THIS pope, is not remaining Catholic but denying it and being way out of touch with reality." Scott Hahn publicly thanked Archbishop Strickland of the Diocese of Tyler, Texas, who had said the Vigano letter was credible and called for a full investigation into everyone implicated in the letter, including Pope Francis. Dr. Taylor Marshall apologized to Rorate Caeli. Karl Keating blasted Bill Donohue of the Catholic League, the latter of whom is publicly opposing a full investigation; Keating says the church should "welcome the sunshine" as a disinfectant, no matter who it brings down. It is getting harder and harder to remain neutral and aloof. Those who continue to defend the status quo are looking increasingly ridiculous. Everywhere people are being forced by circumstance to line up.

4. Of course, the big news on this front is that Michael Voris and Church Militant TV have finally gotten on board with criticizing the actions of Pope Francis. In order to not appear contradictory, Voris has offered the explanation that lay people should not judge the pope in theological matters, but that lay criticism is warranted when the pope's failings are moral. There is some truth to this; for example, if we look back at history, it took a body of professionally trained theologians to rebuke Pope John XXII for his erroneous teaching on the beatific vision; however, moral scandals of a pope (fornication, simony, nepotism, etc) have traditionally been more publicly derided by lay populace at large. I get the angle Voris is trying to take. That being said, I don't find the distinction of CMTV personally convincing, as in this particular case, theology and morality are all wrapped up together and have been for some time. The cover up of sex abuse has to do with preserving the homosexual networks within the Church, which is intimately bound up with clandestine efforts to weaken the Church's doctrinal teaching on homosexuality, which in turn is bound up with the rest of the post-Conciliar novelties. This problem cannot be compartmentalized. It is all part of the same general movement towards apostasy. The problem must be viewed in totu.

Of course, everybody has their thresholds; it's any writer's editorial decision whether they will or will not criticize a sitting prelate. All of us bloggers have had to make that call. I once got into a private argument with New Catholic at Rorate because he believed something Cardinal Kasper said was qualitatively racist whereas Kasper's statements did not meet that threshold for me. That doesn't mean I would ever attack or insult Rorate for making an editorial judgment different than my own. I have a priest friend who reads this blog. Sometimes he agrees with me, other times he tells me I'm full of shit (God bless you, Fr. Scott). We smile and go on as friends. That's the way it is—or ought to be—when you do this. One can't take oneself too seriously, even though paradoxically the things we write about are very serious.

It is thus unfortunate that Church Militant couldn't simply make that call on their own without calling other outlets—such as Rorate, The Remnant, and Steve Skojec—spiritual pornographers. It's one thing to make an editorial call, but quite another to insult others who haven't made the same call as yourself. Really what's happened, as I see it, is that Francis has transgressed in what, for Mr. Voris, is his particular pet issue and now he is comfortable jumping in to the fray because his particular threshold has been crossed. I would like to see Mr. Voris apologize to Michael Matt, Steve Skojec, and The Remnant the way Dr. Taylor Marshall did. But either way, I am happy Church Militant has finally come around, and I have to say their coverage of this unfolding scandal has been top-notch. I like CMTV, and I also like The Remnant, Skojec and a lot of other bloggers. A lot of people have done a lot of good work; I've been reading Steve Skojec's Facebook thread daily to keep up on the developments. Everybody deserves commendation who has helped bring this filth into the light, regardless of how late they got in to the game. The important thing is that light is shining and the wheat and the chaff are being separated. God grant me that I may stand with Him and His saints. God grant treasure in heaven to those who have truly merited it.

5. When the McCarrick scandal was first breaking, I posted an info-graphic on the Unam Sanctam Catholicam Facebook page with some statistics from the John Jay Center, which researched the demographics on clerical abuse victims since 2002. The John Jay research clearly indicates that the abuse problem in the Catholic Church is predominantly homosexual in nature; that predatory homosexuality, not pedophilia, is the primary problem. My goodness, I have seldom got so much hate and ridicule as for drawing the rather obvious connection between homosexuality and sex abuse! So many people want to believe that the real problem is "clericalism", or a culture of secrecy, or pedophilia, or anything but secret networks of predominantly homosexual priests who use their positions of power to gratify their homosexual lusts. Anything but that.

That position may have been tenable even as recently as a few weeks ago. But now, with so many clergy speaking up about what they know and have experienced, with the fallout from the Vigano letter, I notice the chorus shouting "This is not a homosexual problem!" has grown far quieter. This is because it's becoming increasingly ludicrous to argue such. The real issue is summed up aptly by the official statement of Bishop Robert Morlino of Madison, Wisconsin, who wrote (emphasis mine):

"But to be clear, in the specific situations at hand, we are talking about deviant sexual—almost exclusively homosexual—acts by clerics. We’re also talking about homosexual propositions and abuses against seminarians and young priests by powerful priests, bishops, and cardinals....There has been a great deal of effort to keep separate acts which fall under the category of now-culturally-acceptable acts of homosexuality from the publicly-deplorable acts of pedophilia. That is to say, until recently the problems of the Church have been painted purely as problems of pedophilia—this despite clear evidence to the contrary. It is time to be honest that the problems are both and they are more...While recent credible accusations of child sexual abuse by Archbishop McCarrick have brought a whole slew of issues to light, long-ignored was the issue of abuse of his power for the sake of homosexual gratification. It is time to admit that there is a homosexual subculture within the hierarchy of the Catholic Church that is wreaking great devastation in the vineyard of the Lord" (Bishop Robert C. Morlino's "Letter to the Faithful Regarding the Ongoing Sex Abuse Crisis in the Church")

Archbishop Vigano, who in his position as nuncio to the United States had a unique and privileged view into the situation in the American Church, noted in his letter:

"Regarding Cupich, one cannot fail to note his ostentatious arrogance, and the insolence with which he denies the evidence that is now obvious to all: that 80% of the abuses found were committed against young adults by homosexuals who were in a relationship of authority over their victims... In fact, Father Hans Zollner, S.J., Vice-Rector of the Pontifical Gregorian University, President of the Centre for Child Protection, and Member of the Pontifical Commission for the Protection of Minors, recently told the newspaper La Stampa that “in most cases it is a question of homosexual abuse.”"

More poignantly, in his conclusion he calls for the destruction of "homosexual networks", which he says are at the heart of the crisis:

"The deeper problem lies in homosexual networks within the clergy which must be eradicated. These homosexual networks, which are now widespread in many dioceses, seminaries, religious orders, etc., act under the concealment of secrecy and lies with the power of octopus tentacles, and strangle innocent victims and priestly vocations, and are strangling the entire Church."

It is definitely a homosexual problem, and Vigano should be in the position to know. But if you don't believe Vigano, read about the investigations of the lay association Christifideles into the homosexual networks of the Diocese of Miami. Or check out the candidly honest assessment of gay Catholic Daniel Mattson in his article "Why Men Like Me Should Not Be Priests" (First Things, August 2018), who notes:

"What unites all of these scandals is homosexuality in our seminaries and the priesthood...Because the sex scandals of the Church are overwhelmingly homosexual, the Church can no longer risk ordaining men with homosexual inclinations in the hopes that those inclinations turn out to be transitory."

Or read Rod Dreher's "Inside the Seminary Closet" in The American Conservative. It is a painful article, highlighting the first hand experience of a seminarian who had to undergo constant homosexual harassment and was even told "Come on, you must know that everyone is staring at you all the time. You know full well that every guy here including the priests and even the bishop would f*ck you if they had the chance.” Heck, go back and read Goodbye, Good Men again. Any of these sources will demonstrate that this is not a problem with sexual secrecy and the fact that some of the perpetrators happen to be gay is incidental. No; this is essentially and primarily a homosexual problem.

Can anyone read through all this material—the grueling experiences of men who have been through the seminary or (like Morlino and Vigano) are intimately familiar with clerical culture—and tell me straight-faced that this is not a homosexual problem? It's so painfully, ridiculously, hideously obvious that you'd have to be intentionally negligent and/or intellectually dishonest to deny the homosexual nature of the current crisis. Yes, I know there are other aspects to the problem. Of course, reality is complex. But from here on out, after everything that has been revealed, if you still deny this is primarily a homosexual problem, then you have zero credibility in my opinion.

6. John Kass of the Chicago Tribune has a poignant piece entitled "The Silence of Pope Francis and the Pain of a Church" which discusses how devastating it is for the faith of ordinary Catholics that the pope will offer no response whatsoever to Vigano's letter. Kass seems a little confused by the pope's silence, as he notes that Francis is "revered as a humble and good man" and he's not sure why such a "humble and good man" would drop the ball so colossally. I'm sorry, but I am just astonished at how could anyone have ever thought Francis was humble. I am actually appalled. This may be a little bit of a rant, but I need to get this out. I am so disappointed at how many Catholics went along with this idea that Francis was "humble." He's not humble. He's never been humble. Nothing he has ever done has led me to believe he was humble. I'm seriously astonished that anybody was ever fooled. From the first moment he stepped onto the loggia of St. Peter's I knew the man was not humble.

I remember, in my professional life, I was once in a job where I had to screen resumes. Every now and then I would get a candidate who would write about how he was perfect for the job because he was going to come in and improve all our internal operations, show us how to be more efficient, and bless us with his wealth of knowledge. I used to toss these in the trash. They reeked of arrogance, of a person who doesn't know how to simply learn and receive what is being handed on—the sort of person who isn't satisfied unless he's remade everything he touches with his own personal stamp. Such did Francis' gestures all seem to me: asking the people to pray for him on election night, shunning the red shoes and the papal attire, living in Domus Sancte Marthae, and on and on and on. He has never ever appeared as humble to me and I'm frankly astonished that any thinking person ever thought he was. But everyone seemed so carried away with the galactic humility of this man it was astounding (Related: "Humility and Station in Life").

7. Not long ago I did a post entitled "Bad Liturgies Cripple Evangelism", in which I lamented that limp-wristed, anthropocentric liturgies constituted a real barrier to evangelism of non-Catholics. Talk about obstacles to evangelism! This current round of sex-abuse scandals takes the cake. I honestly can't imagine why a non-Catholic would want to join the Catholic Church right now, and no, saying "They just need to understand it's Jesus in the Eucharist!" isn't going to change it. As I said in my previous essay, why would anyone care what we think is in the Eucharist if it appears (and quite reasonably at this point) that our institution is a criminal racket organized for the purpose of institutional sexual abuse? There are some who are leaving the Church now over these scandals; predictably, other Catholics are piling on them and shaming them for leaving, or suggesting their "faith wasn't strong enough" or whatever. But Jesus wants us to go after the one sheep who goes astray, not condemn them for leaving. This is only going to shrink the Church's credibility more, and this will only continue until, in the words of Vigano, the homosexual networks are eradicated. Heads need to roll this time. No more "we are deeply saddened" statements, no more committees with new plans, no more useless platitudes. Action. Everyone involved needs to resign and possibly face criminal charges depending on the gravity of their complicity.

8. One final consideration. Take a look at this chart of all the prelates named in the Vigano letter. I offer no comment on how complicit any of these men are in any abuse or cover up; I only list them here because Archbiship Vigano has implicated them in some degree. Look at it carefully and deeply consider it:

 I know there's a lot of things to consider and it's not this easy. Yes. But....I do want to say, this is way "Santo subito!" is never a good idea. This is precisely why you wait for the patient judgment of history before you rush to canonize a prelate.

9. This is a painful time for all of us. Has my faith in Christ and His Church been shaken? I honestly have to say no, but only because I never believed that this sort of thing couldn't happen to begin with. When the scandal first broke, my first impulse was not to blog about it, but to have a difficult conversation with my 16 year old daughter, who obviously has many questions and concerns over the current situation. I grieve for the souls who will be scandalized because of this. I think my faith isn't shaken so much because anyone who has extensively studied history knows that this kind of corruption is absolutely possible within the Church. It's only those who have deluded themselves into thinking this is a new Springtime and Francis is a saint that have to deal with the full brunt of this. As for me, I've never lost sight of the Church's human side. Am I horrified? Yes of course I am. Surprised? No. Unfortunately not.

And so we go on, through the Vale of Tears until Christ makes all things right.

+AMDG+

Query: A Catholic's Voting Obligation in Light of New CCC Changes?

On this blog's Facebook page, I recently linked to an article on The Josias by Dr. John Joy, STD, addressing the magisterial weight of Pope Francis' amendment to the Catechism of the Catholic Church on the death penalty. It is an excellent piece you should all read.

As a follow up question to Dr. Joy's article, someone on Facebook posed this question:

"Does it follow [from Dr. Joy's conclusion] that Catholic politicians and voters are morally obligated to support efforts to abolish the death penalty in developed nations? I primarily have the United States in mind. If a voter fails to support efforts to suppress the death penalty would that be a grave sin? If a Catholic fails to believe that using the death penalty is sinful in the modern context would that be a grave sin? I am trying to understand how strong is the obligation to give religious submission of will to the Holy Father's teaching."

I reached out to Dr. Joy with the question and got the following response:

"It's not clear to me at this point how this text [of the Catechism] should be understood, so it is hard to know exactly how Catholics should respond. But here are the three most likely possibilities as far as I can see: 

(1) If the text is meant to be understood as a doctrinal assertion of the intrinsic immorality of the death penalty, then it must be rejected as formally heretical. 

(2) If it is meant to be understood as a doctrinal assertion of the intrinsic immorality of the death penalty when not absolutely necessary for public safety, then it must be rejected as erroneous and at least proximate to heresy if not formally heretical. 

(3) If it is meant to be understood as a prudential judgment about the applicability of the death penalty in the present circumstances, then I would assume that the words of Cardinal Ratzinger would still apply:

"If a Catholic were to be at odds with the Holy Father on the application of capital punishment or on the decision to wage war, he would not for that reason be considered unworthy to present himself to receive Holy Communion [i.e. it would not be a grave sin]. While the Church exhorts civil authorities to seek peace, not war, and to exercise discretion and mercy in imposing punishment on criminals, it may still be permissible to take up arms to repel an aggressor or to have recourse to capital punishment. There may be a legitimate diversity of opinion even among Catholics about waging war and applying the death penalty, but not however with regard to abortion and euthanasia" ("Worthiness to Receive Holy Communion: General Principles", July, 2004).

So as far as I can see, regardless of how the text of the Catechism is interpreted, Catholics are not morally obliged to work for the legal abolition of the death penalty, nor are they morally obliged to think that the use of the death penalty in the present circumstances is necessarily sinful. 

Therefore, it is doubtful at best whether this new text imposes any obligations on the faithful, and a doubtful obligation is no obligation at all. If there is an obligation imposed by this text, I think it is probably this: that Catholics ought "to encourage the creation of conditions that allow for the elimination of the death penalty" (CDF, Letter to the Bishops, August 2, 2018); understood in this sense, that we ought to do what we can to create a society where the death penalty does not need to be used in practice because capital crimes are not committed. That's a goal that any Catholic should be able to get on board with."

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Dr. John Joy is the Co-Founder and President of the St. Albert the Great Center for Scholastic Studies. He earned his master's and licentiate in sacred theology at the International Theological Institute in Austria and recently defended his doctoral dissertation at the University of Fribourg, Switzerland. His primary academic interests are in the theology and philosophy of St. Thomas Aquinas, dogmatic theology, and especially questions of infallibility and the magisterium of the Church. He is the author of On the Ordinary and Extraordinary Magisterium from Joseph Kleutgen to the Second Vatican Council, as well as earlier works Poena Satisfactoria and Cathedra Veritatis: On the Extension of Papal Infallibility. He writes for various online Catholic publications, including One Peter Five and The Josias.