JonathanFSullivan.com
30Sep/080

On the Catholic Interpretation of the Bible: Divino Afflante Spiritu

Inspired by the Divine Spirit, the Sacred Writers composed those books, which God, in His paternal charity towards the human race, deigned to bestow on them in order "to teach, to reprove, to correct, to instruct in justice: that the man of God may be perfect, furnished to every good work." (2Tim 3:16-17) This heaven-sent treasure Holy Church considers as the most precious source of doctrine on faith and morals. No wonder herefore that, as she received it intact from the hands of the Apostles, so she kept it with all care, defended it from every false and perverse interpretation and used it diligently as an instrument for securing the eternal salvation of souls, as almost countless documents in every age strikingly bear witness.

- Pope Pius XII, Divino Afflante Spiritu

Pope Pius XII issued Divino Afflante Spiritu 65 years ago today, in 1943 on the feast of St. Jerome. Later described as a "Magna Carta for biblical progress,” the encyclical letter outlines a general approach to the Catholic understanding of the Bible and biblical studies. In particular Pope Pius reviews some of the prevailing “secular” approaches to studying Scripture and outlines their proper use by Catholic scholars, so that modern scholars will "neglect none of those discoveries, whether in the domain of archeology or in ancient history or literature, which serve to make better known the mentality of the ancient writers." (40)

Pius begins his letter by praising Pope Leo XIII's 1893 encyclical Providentissimus Deus, which sought to safeguard the Scriptures against various modern readings (collectively referred to as "higher criticisms"). Leo was concerned about the use of the historical-critical method in interpreting Scripture and declared that true science will never contradict Scripture properly understood.

23Sep/080

"Sic transit mundus"

Comparing the United States to the Roman Empire seems to be a fashionable thing to do lately. And the argument is certainly not without merit. As the only superpower left its natural to make judgments based on the worlds great empires and to ask if we are making the same mistakes that caused their downfalls. The real question, of course, is whether we can learn from history in order to avoid those same mistakes.

Which is just another way to say that I recently read A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter Miller, Jr. Published in 1960, the book may be best described as a work of "Catholic science fiction." It follows the travails of a monastery in a post-apocalyptic world where, following a massive nuclear war, humanity turns against intellectuals and learning in a great "Simplification." Books are burned, universities torn down and the general populace intentionally becomes illiterate in the hopes that another "Flame Deluge" may be averted. The monks of the Albertian Order of Leibowitz (ironically, and unintentionally, abbreviated to AOL) have been charged with protecting what writings they are able to smuggle into their great collection (the "Memorabilia") in the hope that humanity might one day be ready to accept them again.

The book is divided into three sections, each separated by 600 years. The first deals with a young postulant's discovery of relics of Blessed Leibowitz, whose cause for canonization has been opened. The second chronicles the arrival at the monastery of Thon Taddeo, the age's greatest secular thinker, and the world's re-discovery of the treasures hidden there. In the last part humanity is once again threatened by the re-development of nuclear weapons and the Church must decide how best to preserve the world's knowledge and ensure the survival of future generations.

One of Miller's main themes is the cyclical nature of history: in forgetting its own past, the world inadvertently makes its second annihilation possible. Miller makes a fairly explicit comparison between ignorance and violence on the one hand and knowledge and peace on the other. The tribal factions of the outside world are constantly at odds, fighting over territory, food and other resources. They are unable to work together and, as a result, can build nothing of lasting value.

Yet there is still hope in the form of community. By maintaining their connection to the past -- by remembering who they are and passing on that knowledge to future generations -- the monks are able to keep their charge for over 1200 years while, all around them, empires rise, reign and fall. It is the thankless dedication of generations of monks that allows humanity to pull itself from a second Dark Age.

The book also highlights the perennial struggle between science's pursuit of fact, the state's pursuit of power and faith's search for truth. This is especially evident in the second part, during which Thon Thaddeo is at odds with the Order over access to the Memorabilia (he wants to relocate the archive to make them more readily accessible to other scientists) and in the third part in which the state sanctions euthanasia camps for radiation victims. How the monks deal with these threats to their mission says a great deal about how and why the Church pursues knowledge (as opposed to science and the state).

Although it met with mixed reaction upon its release, A Canticle for Leibowitz went on to win a Hugo Award and is now considered a modern classic in science fiction. I highly recommend it to any fan of the genre or anyone interested in the mission of the Church, even in the most trying of times.

16Sep/083

On Marriage

“There is nothing nobler or more admirable than when two people who see eye to eye keep house as man and wife, confounding their enemies and delighting their friends.” - Homer

12Sep/080

Reappropriating the Tradition: The Gift of Young Catholics to the Church

The November 2007 issue of Touchstone Magazine had an enlightening symposium on the current state of the Evangelical movement (with a promise of future discussions concerning Roman Catholicism, Eastern Orthodoxy and mainline Protestantism). The comments are frank and honest, pointing out the movement’s shortcomings as well as it successes.

I was especially struck by this passage from Michael Horton:

Sociologist Christian Smith has recently described American spirituality as ‘moralistic, therapeutic deism,’ and he says that this fits those raised in Evangelical churches as well as any others. If Fundamentalism reduced sin to sins (or at least things they considered vices), contemporary Evangelicals seem to have reduced sin to dysfunction. In this context, Jesus is not the savior from the curse of the law, but a life coach who leads us to a better self, better marriages, and happier kids.

...

I think we have failed to see that emotional summer-camp experiences cannot sustain a robust faith through the trials of real life. So, ironically, while Evangelicalism celebrates reaching the lost, it is losing the reached.

I am concerned that Evangelicalism is proving the thesis that when the gospel is reduced to simplistic jargon and is taken for granted in the life of the church, the next generation even forgets the slogans.

This is not, I think, a problem isolated in Evangelicalism. Certainly my own experience of Catholic catechesis (which, to be fair, took place outside of Catholic schools) reflects some of this same reality. While some of the early faith formation I received was valuable (especially in so far as it was based in a love and knowledge of the scriptures), other experiences were little more than watered-down sentimentality. I often lament that, as a child, I wasn’t introduced to the Communion of Saints, taught how to properly pray the Rosary or exposed to the various faith practices that sustained American Catholicism throughout the centuries. Instead we painted plaster butterflies, made sand drawings and sang songs (many of which featured butterflies).

I suspect that much of this is generational; the catechists who taught me, while of good intentions, were also working out their own renewal of faith following the Second Vatican Council. They were learning, sometimes for the first time, how to appropriate the faith into their own lives and experience not just a knowledge of faith but a real communion with Christ. As a result they sometimes abandoned those practices which did not speak to the challenges of the time.

Unfortunately, having experienced that communion, many never returned to the task of reappropriating the traditions of the faith passed on to them in their youth, instead remaining fixated on the same questions. This isn't new; every generation seems to take the challenges of youth and relive them into adulthood (who hasn't heard of the grandparent who lived through the Great Depression, only to become a hoarder of goods and money in fear of reliving those lean days?) and I doubt my generation will be any different. That having been said, this failure to connect the reform to the traditions which proceeded it in the life of the faithful has led to a generation which is starving for authentic catechesis and a solid rock on which to establish its faith.

This dynamic may also have something to do with the declining and aging membership of Catholic groups popularized in the 1970s and 80s -- they don’t understand that they aren’t addressing the questions of young Catholics. When I talk to Baby Boomers mystified by the “conservative” faith practices of young (especially Millennial) Catholics, I point out that this is not the reactionary faith they tend to believe it is. Young Catholics aren’t trying to turn back the clock to the 1950s. How could we return to a time before we were born? Instead, the challenge for young Catholics (and, I believe, their particular gift to the universal Church) is the struggle to learn ways of living the faith in a very modern world that is both religiously pluralistic and often indifferent or hostile to faith.

Young Catholics are re-appropriating the traditions of the Church that have largely laid dormant for the past few decades. Without being disrespectful to the Boomers, we didn’t have the luxury of abandoning these practices because many of us never knew them in the first place. As a result young Catholics are delightedly rediscovering the Rosary, Benediction, Holy Hours and other traditional practices as if they were new. In a very real way they are creating a renewal of practice in the Church -— in the very best sense of the word.

8Sep/080

On Changing My Mind (and my theology)

A couple weeks ago I received a note from a friend from college, asking about my current pursuits and whether I had "changed" since college. It's helps to know that, in college, I fell to the left of where I would currently plot myself on the proverbial spectrum. In fact, I've taken to calling myself a "recovering liberal," in so far as I've stepped back from some of my unexamined assumptions but not quite gotten to where I would describe myself as conservative.

Back then I was still "fresh" to theology and, like a lot of people my age, found myself poorly catechized to the teachings of the Church. As I've deepened my studies I've been exposed to a wider variety of thought (both Catholic and otherwise) that I've had to wrestle with and account for. I'm unsatisfied with the stock answers of both the right and the left and, for myself, prefer to steer a middle path (which is making decisions of a political nature increasingly difficult).

In the last few years I have been (quite by surprise!) energized by Benedict XVI's papacy. Maybe it's my own academic inclinations, but I'm drawn to his clarity of thought and "back to basics" approach. Jesus of Nazareth was a sort of watershed read for me, because it skilfully navigates both rigorous study and fidelity to the Tradition. This was one of my main struggles in college -- how to reconcile the head with the heart without losing the strengths of both. (In fact, it's still one of the main sticking points in my spiritual journey.)

As I reflect on my own developing approach to theology I find that it is informed by the four characteristics that form the basis for this blog:

  • Openness to insights from a variety of sources;
  • A fierce loyalty to the faith of the Church;
  • Approaching the faith as an answer to Christ's call in hope and love;
  • An "evangelical" faith that is technologically savvy.

To summarize this approach I've appropriated John Allen's term "affirmative orthodoxy," which he defines as "a tenacious defense of the core elements of classic Catholic doctrine, but presented in a relentlessly positive key." I find this approach extremely attractive and vital to the Church at this particular moment in time, especially as someone working in the catechetical ministry.

In grad school I heard a story (most likely apocryphal), that when brought before the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith to defend some of his writings, Edward Schillebeeckx just shrugged his shoulders and said something to the effect of: "That's what I wrote then, it's not how I would write it now, and who knows what I'll write tomorrow?" Schillebeeckx was never censored, and it's that spirit of inquiry and humility that I'm trying to cultivate in myself.

5Sep/081

Just for Fun: Bshp. Fulton J. Sheen on What's My Line?

2Sep/080

Novena for Faithful Citizenship

Today is the first day of the national Novena for Faithful Citizenship. The United States Conference of Catholic Bishops has invited Catholics in America to pray every week leading up to the November elections.

Through the Novena prayers and accompanying scripture readings, Catholics will be able to prayerfully reflect on the Church's teachings on life issues, reconciliation, social justice and the dignity of the human person.

The Novena, which is based on the USCCB's document Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship, is available in both print and mp3 formats and can be downloaded at www.faithfulcitizenship.org/resources/podcasts.

1Sep/080

What is "affirmative orthodoxy"?

The phrase was originally coined by John Allen to describe the particular theological trajectory of Pope Benedict XVI:

By “affirmative orthodoxy,” I mean a tenacious defense of the core elements of classic Catholic doctrine, but presented in a relentlessly positive key. Benedict appears convinced that the gap between the faith and contemporary secular culture, which Paul VI called “the drama of our time,” has its roots in Europe dating from the Reformation, the Wars of Religion, and the Enlightenment, with a resulting tendency to see Christianity as a largely negative system of prohibitions and controls. In effect, Benedict's project is to reintroduce Christianity from the ground up, in terms of what it’s for rather than what it’s against.

This spirit of “affirmative orthodoxy” was clear in Benedict’s first encyclical letter, Deus Caritas Est, in which the pope laid out a philosophical and spiritual basis for the church’s teaching on human love. His encouragement for the International Theological Commission to set aside the hypothesis of limbo offers another example. Without softening the traditional teaching that Christ’s grace, normally mediated through baptism, remains essential for salvation, Benedict nevertheless put the accent on hope.

In the Holy Father's own words:

Christianity, Catholicism, isn’t a collection of prohibitions: it’s a positive option. It’s very important that we look at it again because this idea has almost completely disappeared today. We’ve heard so much about what is not allowed that now it’s time to say: we have a positive idea to offer, that man and woman are made for each other, that the scale of sexuality, eros, agape, indicates the level of love and it’s in this way that marriage develops, first of all, as a joyful and blessing-filled encounter between a man and a woman, and then the family, that guarantees continuity among generations and through which generations are reconciled to each other and even cultures can meet. So, firstly it’s important to stress what we want. Secondly, we can also see why we don’t want something. I believe we need to see and reflect on the fact that it’s not a Catholic invention that man and woman are made for each other, so that humanity can go on living: all cultures know this. As far as abortion is concerned, it’s part of the fifth, not the sixth, commandment: “Thou shalt not kill!” We have to presume this is obvious and always stress that the human person begins in the mother’s womb and remains a human person until his or her last breath. The human person must always be respected as a human person. But all this is clearer if you say it first in a positive way.

Affirmative orthodoxy, then, is a particular way of approaching the Christian faith. Rather than being defensive or defining itself by what it isn't, AO proposes that which is true and invites others to follow that truth in their lives. This starts with a recognition that this invitation is open to all -- including (especially!) those who already follow Christ -- in order that they may be made perfect, "just as [our] heavenly Father is perfect" (Mt 5:48). In this way AO is connected to the New Evangelism preached by Pope John Paul II, which called for a renewed emphasis on transforming both individuals and cultures through the preaching of the Gospel.