Amoris laetitia

You’ll find out when you reach the top

Elliot Milco, no stranger to our readers, has a piece at First Things about the Argentine bishops’ protocol and the Holy Father’s endorsement of it. He makes this point:

The Church teaches and has always taught, from St. Paul to the Council of Trent and beyond, that grace strengthens and liberates us from the bonds of sin, and that while we may never, in the present life, be perfectly free from the inclination to do wrong, it is possible through grace to keep the commandments. This doctrine was given force of law in Trent’s decree on justification: “If anyone says that the commandments of God are, even for one that is justified and constituted in grace, impossible to observe, let him be anathema.” The same decree explains that “God does not command impossibilities, but by commanding admonishes you to do what you can and to pray for what you cannot, and aids you that you may be able.”

The real problem with the Argentine norms is their deviation from this larger and more fundamental principle: that grace truly sanctifies and liberates, and that baptized Christians are always free to fulfill the moral law, even when they fail to do so. Jesus Christ holds us to this standard in the Gospel. It is presumptuous of Francis—however benign his intentions—to decide that his version of “mercy” trumps that given by God himself.

(Emphasis supplied.) In addition to the Decree on Justification, one is reminded of St. Matthew’s Gospel, when Our Lord says “Take my yoke upon yourselves, and learn from me; I am gentle and humble of heart; and you shall find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” (ch. 11, vv. 29–30.)

We are not qualified to say whether the Tridentine anathema applies to the Argentine bishops’ protocol or Amoris laetitia or whatever, so we will prescind from a serious doctrinal analysis. (We are sure that Pope Boniface X or Pope Clement XV will clear things up for us one day in the dim and distant future, and we, of course, look forward to getting things sorted out.) But we will remark briefly on the pessimism of such a view, which is desperately gloomy. What else can we say of an attitude that says that one simply cannot do something that is by no means impossible, merely a little difficult? What a negative judgment! Yes, yes, the Amoris laetitia defender says, everyone knows what the rule is, but, well, you can’t live up to it. Even if you want to, you’ll just fail. Why fail? Why try? We’ll just change the rules. Of course, such a bleak view of the world is hardly sustainable; who would want to live in a world without possible escape, in which everyone is doomed to failure? Perhaps such a view is compatible with Christianity, but it seems compatible only with great difficulty with the confident, joyful Christianity that the Church has proclaimed to the world since, oh, Pentecost.

(We will leave to your imagination, dear reader, what one might do to take a little bit of the chill off such a view, to try to make it fit with the Church’s traditional teaching—what one might, for example, call this approach to get some warm feelings back into it.)

Not only is this view pessimistic, it’s also infantilizing. Throughout one’s childhood—our childhood, at any rate, if you can believe that we had one, dear reader—one wants to do more than one is “supposed to.” It’s not impossible; others do it, why can’t we? One wants to take the training wheels off one’s bicycle. One wants to sit at the grownups’ table at Christmas dinner. One wants to play basketball with the older kids. One wants to hang out with the seniors when one is only a sophomore. It is infantilizing to be told you’re not strong enough, clever enough, or whatever enough to keep up. It is infantilizing in the moral context, too. One is told that one is so morally weak that one is categorized with children—that their sins aren’t really sins. They don’t know any better. They’re not strong enough, clever enough, or whatever enough to do what Christ commands them to do, even though Christ promises them his help in doing it. Better to sit at the children’s table, to get a bigger set of training wheels, and let the grownups lower the hoop so that you can shoot 3-pointers like Steph Curry.

Perhaps we’re a little off the mark with the infantilization bit, but the problem of infantilization in the faith has been on our mind today, given this insightful essay by Jesuit Fr. Robert McTeigue. He observes:

In other words, the illusion that Christianity is actually a “play-date” with religious decorations attached, while temporarily stimulating to young people, is affecting the rest of the Christian community. Excitement and novelty become the hallmarks of “authentic” faith and worship. This leads to a threefold problem.

First, it exalts the adolescent and trivializes the sacred. Second, it distracts the folks who should know better from handing on the fullness of the faith. Third, perhaps worst of all, it leaves our young ill prepared for the next stage of their lives. We are promising them a perpetual playground when they should be preparing for a spiritual battleground. Giving children what the world tells them they want rather than what the Church knows they need does not serve them well and does not glorify God.

(Emphasis supplied.) While Fr. McTeigue is criticizing specifically the usually embarrassing outreach to teenagers, his insights have a broader applicability. The idea that Christianity is some sort of religious play-date is by no means limited to children, and excitement and novelty have indeed become hallmarks of “authentic” faith and worship. The threefold problem Fr. McTeigue identifies is a problem undergirding most—not all, but most—of the problems confronting the universal Church today.

One can check Fr. McTeigue’s boxes in this context. Just think about the Amoris laetitia solution. Do we exalt the adolescent and trivialize the sacred? And how! Are the teachers of the faith distracted? You could say that. Are Catholics being left unprepared for the next stage of their lives? Oh my, yes. Thus, we think that, in addition to reflecting a pessimistic view of the capacity of the average Christian, who has, after all, been promised grace by Our Lord to discharge his duties, the view of the Amoris laetitia defenders infantilizes the Christian. The Christian can’t do what’s required of him because he’s a moral child. Perhaps he could be taught, challenged, and helped to do better. Certainly that’s what one does with children, as a rule. But what does it say that a large number of the world’s bishops, including, apparently, the Bishop of Rome, don’t think that that’s a viable option?

And this brings us back to pessimism. One is inclined to ask them what they know that the rest of us don’t. Certainly the German bishops, politically powerful in this pontificate, want their Kirchensteuer back. (As though the doctrine on bigamy was the reason for Germany’s slide into irreligion.) But is that all? Or is there something more serious that the hierarchy sees that leaves it unable or unwilling to help Christians conform their lives to Christ’s call? One can dress up the idea in any number of ways, but, at bottom, there is an implication is that we are simply incapable of doing that which Christ tells us we can do because Christ will help us do it. And there is an implication that, for whatever reason, it’s not feasible to help us do better. This is not a comforting thought.

Milco urges us not to worry about the Pope or his program—instead we should deepen our understanding of the traditional teaching of the Church and pray for the Holy Father, good advice to be sure—but confronted by such a deep pessimism, can one help it if one does worry? Confronted by such an infantilizing view, can one help it if one even gets a little upset?

I guess I should’ve known I’d end up on my own

Robert Royal at The Catholic Thing has an insightful essay about the Argentine bishops’ protocol and the Holy Father’s approval of the same. Read the whole thing there, of course, but we wanted to call attention to this:

Indeed, Catholics have a new teaching now, not only on divorce and remarriage. We have a new vision of the Eucharist. It’s worth recalling that in January the pope, coyly, not ruling it out, suggested to a group of Lutherans in Rome that they, too, should “talk with the Lord” and “go forward.” Indeed, they later took Communion at Mass in the Vatican. In a way, that was even more significant. A Catholic couple, divorced and remarried, are sinners, but – at least in principle – still Catholic. Has intercommunion with non-Catholic Christians also been decided now without any consultation – almost as if such a momentous step in understanding the Sacrament of Unity hardly matters?

(Emphasis supplied.) At this point, it is long since time for Catholics in the pews to start asking questions like this. And to start demanding clear answers. It is apparent that there is no “right way” for a pope to communicate changes in doctrine and praxis under this pontificate. Every little thing—footnotes, offhand comments here and there, private letters, dishy interviews with favored editors—counts.

Royal’s final point—gloomy though it is—is well worth considering, too.

We’re back on the train

There is a new Amoris laetitia controversy.

Apparently, the Argentine bishops—or some Argentine bishops—issued a secret-ish protocol implementing Chapter 8 of Amoris laetitia. It says what Amoris laetitia says: under some circumstances bigamists may receive communion without committing to live as brother and sister. While stunning, in a sense, to hear bishops of the Church saying something like this, it is not especially surprising after the last couple of years. This is “Amoris laetitia 101.” Then a private letter from the Holy Father to one of the Argentine bishops was leaked, praising the document generally and saying that it represented the correct understanding of Amoris laetitia. After some back and forth about whether the Holy Father’s letter was genuine, it seems that Vatican Radio has referred to it as the real deal. There has been some critical coverage of these events.

We’re left wondering: what’s the big deal? Let us be realistic for a moment. It has been manifest for a couple of years—and explicit since Amoris laetitia was released—that the Holy Father wants pastors to admit bigamists to communion without their first committing to live as brother and sister. Now, we recognize that Chapter 8 did not propose any juridical norms; thus, one may say that, notwithstanding what the Holy Father wants, he has not actually done anything. The law before Amoris laetitia is the same as the law after Amoris laetitia. No big deal. But the ship sailed on that argument some time ago. Now, it may be an interesting question why the Holy Father has not done something explicitly that he seems to want to do very badly. (As a friend of ours has suggested privately, perhaps the Holy Spirit has protected him from formally teaching error.) But the fact remains that he wants to do this and seems willing to let it happen on a wink-and-nod basis. And maybe this recent round of the Amoris laetitia wars is a big deal with that in mind.

Now, perhaps the big deal is the fact that the footnotes are the strongest basis for the Argentine bishops’ action. Paragraphs 5 and 6 of the protocol apparently make use of the notes in Amoris laetitia for key propositions. The citations include, you guessed it, the infamous Footnote 351, which has been criticized cogently by Robert Spaemann, among many, many others. As a clever friend of ours said on Twitter in the past couple of days, all the people who talked about the time bombs in the footnotes were correct; the Argentine bishops show that the footnotes, far from being the least important parts of Amoris laetitia, are among the most important parts. The suggestion that the Pope doesn’t use footnotes to make important pronouncements about doctrine or praxis is ridiculous now. (Perhaps it always was.) At any rate, it should suffice to answer anyone who claims that the pope doesn’t use footnotes in a doctrinally serious manner to say that the Argentine bishops—whose interpretation has been praised and endorsed privately by the Holy Father—sure think he does. The burden has shifted to the defenders, we think.

And perhaps the big deal is that the Argentine bishops’ protocol also cites a 1996 letter from John Paul II to William Cardinal Baum, then the major penitentiary. (There is a translation available from EWTN of this letter, but not from the Vatican.) This document was cited in Footnote 364 of Amoris laetitia, though we have not seen it heavily discussed. (Not least since Footnote 364 contains some of the Holy Father’s characteristic polemic about particularly rigid priests. You might be excused for missing the citation to a not-hugely-well-known bit of papal moral theology.) We wonder, however, if the protocol represents a new line of attack by the defenders of Amoris laetitia. The relevant passage from St. John Paul’s letter to Cardinal Baum is this:

It is also self-evident that the accusation of sins must include the serious intention not to commit them again in the future. If this disposition of soul is lacking, there really is no repentance: this is in fact a question of moral evil as such, and so not taking a stance opposed to a possible moral evil would mean not detesting evil, not repenting. But as this must stem above all from sorrow for having offended God, so the intention of not sinning must be based on divine grace, which the Lord never fails to give anyone who does what he can to act honestly.

If we wished to rely only on our own strength, or primarily on our own strength, the decision to sin no more, with a presumed self-sufficiency, almost a Christian Stoicism or revived Pelagianism, we would offend against that truth about man with which we began, as though we were to tell the Lord, more or less consciously, that we did not need him. It should also be remembered that the existence of sincere repentance is one thing, the judgement of the intellect concerning the future is another: it is indeed possible that, despite the sincere intention of sinning no more, past experience and the awareness of human weakness makes one afraid of falling again; but this does not compromise the authenticity of the intention, when that fear is joined to the will, supported by prayer, of doing what is possible to avoid sin.

(Emphasis supplied.) Obviously the argument goes something like this: John is living in a second marriage with Jane. A holy priest has explained to John and Jane that their marriage is adulterous, whatever else might be said for it, but John cannot divorce Jane because they’re raising their child, James. With us so far? John and Jane resolve to live as brother and sister and are, accordingly, absolved sacramentally and admitted to Holy Communion. But John and Jane slip up. Now, the Amoris laetitia casuist might say that, if John and Jane are sincerely repentant in the confessional for the slip up, and if they sincerely resolve to resume living as brother and sister—even though they are aware from past experience and the awareness of their weakness, that they may well slip up again—they have the firm purpose of amendment required for a good confession. Problem solved! Perhaps so, but it is remarkably easy to start waving one’s hands at the requirements of this theory and arrive at the place where the possibility of the future slip up vitiates the requirement to resolve to live as brother and sister. One can hear a pliable priest saying, “Listen, you know you’re going to slip up again, why let yourself down? The important thing is that you’re sorry now.”

As we say, we have heard far more about Footnote 351 than Footnote 364. It will be interesting to see if the argument from Footnote 364 gets a little more currency. Currently, the Amoris laetitia defenders say, essentially, that the gravity of the sin of bigamy is reduced by concrete circumstances. That’s Rocco Buttiglione’s argument, at any rate: the bigamists don’t freely consent because of these circumstances making it impossible to break off the adulterous relationship, thus what would be a mortal sin is really a venial sin. But the Argentine bishops’ line of attack is altogether more dangerous. Of course it’s a mortal sin, our casuist says. Of course! No question about it. Familiaris consortio could not be clearer. One wishes that the whole of FC 84 had made its way into Amoris laetitia. Bigamists have to live as brother and sister if they want to receive Holy Communion. Beyond a doubt this is so! St. John Paul restated the apostolic teaching of the Church, as part of his towering contribution to moral theology. But, the same St. John Paul said that a firm purpose of amendment needn’t be such a gloomy, totalizing, all-encompassing thing. The fact that you might slip up—you probably will slip up, if you’re being honest with yourself, and sooner rather than later—in the future doesn’t vitiate your repentance in the hic et nunc. You just have to try to do better. Just try. But don’t beat yourself up over it. Everybody goofs up!

Of course, those with ears to hear know exactly what all that means.

You must pay for everything in this world

Father John Hunwicke, continuing a series on his blog, has an interesting post about the magisterium and the rights of the faithful, clergy and laity alike. Indeed he discusses the recent, private letter of forty-five eminent Catholic thinkers to the College of Cardinals, asking them to encourage the Holy Father to condemn some erroneous interpretations of Amoris laetitia.

Not long ago, as is well known, a group of 45 scholars, teachers, and pastors, wrote a Letter. (I emphasise that these people came from a wide variety of countries throughout the world: I emphasise this because I do not want what I am about to say to be narrowly construed as a criticism of any members of the English Church.) The Letter was addressed to each member of the Sacred College of Cardinals respectfully asking them to beg the Holy Father graciously to consider the clarification of certain parts of Amoris laetitia which have proved to be dangerously ambiguous. Cardinals, I think, count as Sacred Shepherds. This was a private letter (although its contents have unfortunately become public). Even if it had been a public letter, I do not see how it could have failed to enjoy the protection of Canon 212.

Dr Javier Hervada, sometime Professor of Canon Law at Navarra, comments on Canon 212: “The right of free speech and public opinion within the Church is acknowledged. Science, skill, and prestige are required to exercise the right justly or to give the corresponding moral obligation greater or less force. The basis of this right does not reside in these prerequisites but in the condition of being one of the faithful“.

(Emphasis in original.) As you may recall, the signatories of this letter were identified in one or the other of the progressive house organs. Then the letter itself was leaked. This is, we suspect very much, not what the drafters and signatories wanted. The letter was written in very frank terms, but always respectful, always keenly aware of its place. It was a private letter from concerned Catholics to the close collaborators of the Supreme Pontiff. But if there is one thing that the progressives in the Church have learned, it’s that leaks are good for business. Digressing slightly, it’s interesting that the leaks only go one way. One almost never hears that some damaging leak has occurred of a progressive’s papers. And when one does hear it, the leaker is blasted into oblivion and punished brutally, because there’s nothing worse than leaks.

Except when they’re judiciously used against someone unpopular.

And it seems that this leak has been used against unpopular squeaky wheels. Father Hunwicke again:

In the fourth year of this current pontificate, it is appropriate also to mention the insistently repeated calls of the Holy Father Pope Francis himself for Parrhesia [bold and free speaking] in the Church.

With regard to the paragraph which now follows below, I would like to make it very clear that I am not talking about myself or in any way describing or alluding to my own situation or any experience I have had.

Intimidation and cruel pressures have, it appears, been applied to persuade some of the signatories to the Letter to rescind their signatures. 

Perhaps this may remind English readers of the occasion when, a couple of years ago, some 450 English clerics wrote an open letter with regard to the agenda of the Synod of Bishops, and it was reported in the public papers that intimidation had been applied to dissuade priests from signing. How those guilty of such worldly intimidation can think that their behaviour helps any cause in which they sincerely and Christianly believe, I simply do not even begin to understand. It all seems to me so much more like the actions of playground bullies than any conduct which could be appropriate between those whom the Lord called His Friends (philous; John 15:15).

(Emphasis in original.) We are sorry to say that we’ve heard very similar reports—and from sources we trust implicitly. Upshot: the leaks worked. The Catholics who had the temerity to ask the cardinals to ask the Pope to clear up some of the confusion surrounding Amoris laetitia have been identified and will be dealt with in due course. Never mind that they’ve got the right—and, indeed, the duty in some cases—of expressing their concerns to their pastors and their pastors’ close collaborators. Only a doctor of the law would care about canon 212. They better get in line, but quick. 

This is, of course, just what traditionally minded Catholics have always known. Progressives in the Church operate this way. It is what we saw at the Council and after. We must talk about things—openly, freely, frankly. The schemata are bad. They’re shot through with neo-scholasticism, unecumenical language, and stuffy dogmas. We’ve got to talk about this. And when they get the answer they want, that’s it. No more discussion. Next question! We are witnessing the early stages of the same phenomenon with the business about deaconesses. We’ve got to talk about this. But just wait until they get the answer they clearly want.

More from Rocco Buttiglione on “Amoris laetitia”

A little while ago, we noted that Italian philosopher and politician Rocco Buttiglione had given an interview arguing for continuity between Familiaris consortio and Amoris laetitia. As part of the Vatican’s apparent effort to push back against the conservative consensus about Amoris laetitia, Buttiglione has written a longer essay for L’Osservatore Romano. Buttiglione is obviously a prime choice for a Vatican surrogate here, having had a strong personal and intellectual relationship with John Paul. He drills down on the argument that Amoris laetitia is traditional insofar as it simply addresses two of the three conditions for mortal sin (the three are: grave matter, full knowledge, and free consent):

When I was a child I studied the Roman Catechism before making my First Holy Communion. The Catechism was written by a Pope who was undoubtedly anti-modernist: Saint Pius X. I remember him saying that to receive the Eucharist a soul had to be free from mortal sin. He also explained what a mortal sin is. In order for a sin to be mortal, three conditions are necessary. It must be an intrinsically evil act or gravely contrary to the moral law: that is, it has to be grave matter. Sexual relations outside of marriage are without doubt gravely contrary to the moral law. This was the case before Amoris Laetitia, this is still the case in Amoris Laetitia, and it will naturally be the case after Amoris Laetitia. The Pope has not changed the Church’s doctrine. 

But Saint Pius X tells us more. For a sin to be mortal, two other conditions are necessary beyond grave matter. It is also necessary that there be full knowledge of the evil of the act committed. If one is convinced in conscience that the act is not (gravely) evil, the action will be materially evil but not imputed to the person as a mortal sin. Moreover, the acting subject must give deliberate consent to the evil action. This means that the sinner must be free to act or not to act: that is, he must be free to act in one way rather than another, and he must not be coerced by a fear that obliges him to do one thing when he prefers another.

Can we imagine circumstances in which a divorced and remarried person finds himself or herself living in a situation of serious sin without full knowledge or deliberate consent? Perhaps a woman was baptized but never truly evangelized, entered marriage superficially, and then her spouse abandoned her. Perhaps a man entered a union with someone he was helping in a moment of serious crisis. He sincerely loved her and became a good father (or a woman a good mother) for the sake of the children the spouse had from the first marriage.

(Emphasis supplied.) He goes on to make a lengthy, not hugely clear, argument about the popes who imposed excommunication as a penalty for the delict of divorce and John Paul, who eliminated that provision in the 1983 Code. Read the whole thing there.

And this argument is fine as far as it goes, but we have one question: if the Holy Father really thought that all that Amoris laetitia was doing was applying the basic analysis of full knowledge and free consent, then why go to the trouble of writing the verbose Chapter 8? Moreover, Buttiglione’s theory, as we have thought about it, addresses only half the problem. Say that an objectively sinful situation is not subjectively sinful because free consent is lacking; what of the scandal to others?

Spadaro interviews Card. Schönborn on “Amoris laetitia”

Recently, Jesuit Father Antonio Spadaro, editor of the influential publication La Civiltà Cattolica—whose proofs, we are unfailingly reminded, are corrected in the Secretariat of State, if not Santa Marta—interviewed Christoph Cardinal Schönborn, archbishop of Vienna and the Holy Father’s preferred interpreter of Amoris laetitia. A lengthy excerpt has been made available in English. A sample:

But this orientation was already contained in some way in the famous paragraph 84 of «Familiaris consortio», to which Francis has recourse several times, as when he writes: “Pastors must know that, for the sake of truth, they are obliged to exercise careful discernment of situations” (AL 79).

Saint John Paul II did indeed distinguish a variety of situations. He saw a difference between those who had tried sincerely to salvage their first marriage and were abandoned unjustly, and those who had destroyed a canonically valid marriage through their grave fault. He then spoke of those who have entered a second marital union for the sake of the upbringing of their children and who sometimes are subjectively certain in their consciences that the first marriage, now irreparably destroyed, was never valid. Each one of these cases thus constitutes the object of a differentiated moral evaluation. There are very many different starting points in an ever deeper sharing in the life of the Church, to which everyone is called. John Paul II already presupposes implicitly that one cannot simply say that every situation of a divorced and remarried person is the equivalent of a life in mortal sin that is separated from the communion of love between Christ and the Church. Accordingly, he was opening the door to a broader understanding, by means of the discernment of the various situations that are not objectively identical, and thanks to the consideration of the internal forum.

(Emphasis supplied.) Read the whole thing there.

We predicted, prior to the release of Amoris laetitia, that it would be presented as an incremental development on John Paul’s thinking in Familiaris consortio and Benedict’s thinking. We have not been disappointed so far. In reading the whole of this excerpt, it becomes clear that Cardinal Schönborn wants very much to convince his readers that, really, Amoris laetitia is of a piece with Familiaris consortio and other magisterial interventions through the years. He also, in passing, suggests that the forum internum solution was, in fact, pre-Conciliar practice with which he was familiar, which is something we had not yet heard.

Rocco Buttiglione on “Amoris laetitia”

Rocco Buttiglione was interviewed very recently by Andrea Tornielli about Amoris laetitia. The prominent Italian intellectual and politician, known especially for his work on the thought of John Paul II, argues for a strong continuity between John Paul’s teaching in Familiaris consortio and Francis’s in Amoris laetitia. His observations bring out a point that we think has been a little overlooked in the discussion of the Holy Father’s arguments. In particular: traditional moral theology holds that three elements are required for mortal sin—grave matter, full knowledge, and deliberate consent.

At the outset, we note that we have been surprised to see the relative lack of coverage of this interview. For one thing, Buttiglione has long been established as a commentator on (if not a popularizer of) John Paul’s thought, in addition to his credentials as a friend and adviser of the saint. For another thing, Buttiglione has been fairly forthright not only about Francis’s differences from John Paul but also about Francis’s own outlook, especially in economic matters. Thus, we can say that Buttiglione is no reflexive cheerleader of the current pontificate. And that is why we are inclined to give Buttiglione’s comments perhaps more of a hearing than others who have also argued for continuity between Familiaris consortio and Amoris laetitia.

Turning to the interview itself, Buttiglione observes first:

And now what does Amoris laetitia propose?  

“Francis is taking a further step forward in this direction. He does not say that the divorced and remarried can receive or expect communion, hurrah! No! Divorce is awful and there can be no sexual acts outside of marriage. This moral teaching has not changed. The Pope says that now the divorced and remarried can go to confession, starting a path of discernment with the priest. As is done in every confession, for every sin, the priest must evaluate whether all the conditions exist for a sin to be considered mortal. To those of my colleagues who uttered strong words against Amoris laetitia I should mention that St. Pius X – not exactly a modernist Pope – in his Catechism recalled that mortal sin requires a grave matter, but also full awareness and deliberate consent, that is, full freedom to assume total responsibility for what I did.” 

(Emphasis supplied, except for the question, which was emphasized in the original.) He went on to say:

With the apostolic exhortation Amoris laetitia something has changed, then?  

“Of course something has changed! But neither the morality nor the doctrine on the indissolubility of marriage have changed. The pastoral discipline of the Church is changing. Until yesterday, for the sin committed by the divorced and remarried, there was a presumption of total guilt. Now even for this sin the subjective aspect will be evaluated, as is the case for murder, for not paying taxes, for exploiting workers, for all the other sins we commit. The priest listens and also assesses the mitigating circumstances. Do these circumstances change the nature of the situation? No, a divorce and a new union remain objectively evil. Do these circumstances change the responsibility of the person involved? Maybe yes. You have to discern.”

(Emphasis supplied, except for the question, which was emphasized in the original.) In other words, Buttiglione recognizes that, applying the traditional framework for mortal sin, there may be mitigating circumstances for adultery and bigamy in concrete cases, especially with respect to knowledge and deliberate consent. Buttiglione very correctly says that, for any other sin, when one enters the confessional, there is a process of discernment: was it grave matter? Did one have full knowledge? Did one freely consent?

Now, one must acknowledge that discernment in the context of confession cannot prescind from the truth or the Church’s traditional moral teaching (cf. Amoris laetitia ¶¶ 300, 311). Full knowledge, for example, cannot be elevated to require one to have the moral knowledge of St. Alphonsus and thereby reduce culpability in almost every case. Likewise, free consent may not be elevated to complete, joyful, malevolent consent with the same goal in mind. It is, of course, possible—though it is horrible to contemplate—to commit a mortal sin. And Fr. James Schall has noted that there is a tendency in Amoris laetitia towards the position that a mortal sin is extremely difficult to commit, if not impossible. Yet this problem does not, it seems to us, justify upending the traditional moral teaching of the Church.

Yet it seems that that is what has happened. Now, we admit that Buttiglione’s point is one that we ourselves made recently in another forum: in discussing the question of communion for bigamists in the context of Amoris laetitia, some exponents of the traditionalist view seem to stop at grave matter. Adultery and bigamy are unquestionably grave matter, thus objective adultery and bigamy are always mortally sinful. However, traditionally, the Church has taught that full knowledge and deliberate consent are also required to make a mortal sin. By focusing on the grave matter of adultery and bigamy, it seems to us that some traditionalists create a hermeneutic in which grave matter is sufficient standing on its own for mortal sin. Perhaps that’s true in the context of bigamy and adultery, though Buttiglione notes that those would be exceptions to the general rule. However, even if that’s the case, it is not correct to say in all cases that grave matter alone suffices to make every sin a mortal sin. One cannot dispense with knowledge and consent so easily. Yet one could get that impression from the discourse surrounding Amoris laetitia.

Strangely enough, the Society of St. Pius X articulated something like Buttiglione’s view in its official communique on Amoris laetitia:

In a papal document one expects to find a clear presentation of the Church’s magisterial teaching and the Christian manner of living. Now, as others have correctly noted, Amoris Laetitia is rather “a treatise on psychology, pedagogy, moral and pastoral theology and spirituality”. The Church has the mission of proclaiming the teaching of Jesus Christ in season and out of season and of drawing from it the necessary conclusions, all for the good of souls. It is incumbent upon her to remind men of God’s Law and not to minimize it or explain how it might not apply in some cases. The Church has the obligation of stating principles, the concrete application of which she leaves to pastors of souls, to confessors, and also to the conscience that has been enlightened by faith, the proximate rule of human action.

(Emphasis supplied.) It is, of course, interesting to observe that the leading traditionalist group in the Church, since the Holy Father has dispelled once and for all the accusation that the Society is in schism, has what some might say is a broadminded view of the matter. This might be explained by the Society’s obvious awareness and emphasis on the Church’s traditional moral teaching on these issues. It is, we think, unlikely that the so-called fundamental option was ever taught in Society seminaries, for example.

The underlying phenomenon, we think, is part of a broader issue surrounding some of the Holy Father’s statements. Some commentators, perhaps out of zeal for tradition or a scandalized conscience, overshoot in their negation of this or that statement of the Holy Father, landing at a point where they negate not only an apparent novelty but also perfectly sound teaching set alongside the apparent novelty. A Catholic ought to be perfectly happy to affirm the Holy Father without reservation when he teaches what has always and everywhere been taught. Indeed, a Catholic ought to be willing to affirm all of the Holy Father’s teachings, provided that they are at least consistent with the prior teaching of the Church. At any rate, one ought to avoid the fundamentally political temptation to deny everything one’s opponent says, not least because the Holy Father is not one’s opponent and the Church of Christ is not politics.

None of this is of course to say that the Holy Father’s critics are not correct—and Buttiglione incorrect—when they say that Amoris laetitia represents a major change in praxis amounting to a change in doctrine. However, we point to Buttiglione’s comments primarily to point out the fact that one must be careful to not to do violence to unobjectionable teaching in one’s haste to declare this or that teaching of Amoris laetitia objectionable.

A priest writes to a cardinal about “Amoris laetitia”

One day after our Link Roundup for the week (and, not coincidentally, one day after he caught us out in a r embarrassing solecism), Pater Edmund Waldstein, O.Cist., published a must-read essay on Amoris laetitia. There are two points we’d make about Pater Waldstein’s essay. First, he begins with a lengthy discussion of the requirement of submission to papal teaching in the context of the Professio Fidei implemented by John Paul II in Ad tuendam Fidem:

There has been a lamentable tendency in Catholic theology since about July of 1968 to minimalize the requirements of submission to the teachings of the popes. Submission, so goes the argument, is only absolutely necessary to infallible teachings, and according to Vatican I the pope is only infallible under four conditions: “when, (1) in the exercise of his office as shepherd and teacher of all Christians, (2) in virtue of his supreme apostolic authority, (3) he defines a doctrine concerning faith or morals (4) to be held by the whole Church.” Many Catholic theologians, especially in Germany, have argued that these conditions are only met in solemn definitions, in which the supreme pontiff exercises his extraordinary magisterium. This was the strategy adopted by those who wished to dissent from the teaching on artificial contraception of the encyclical Humanae Vitae. This extremely minimalistic approach to the teachings of the supreme pontiffs has always been particularly abhorrent to me. The pope is infallible not only in his extraordinary magisterium, but also his ordinary and universal magisterium, when he intends to bind the Church definitively. Moreover, the Church requires religious submission of will and intellect even non-definitive teachings. My tendency has thus always been to the opposite extreme. And yet, this too can be taken too far.

(Emphasis supplied and hyperlink in original.) He goes on to observe, discussing Fr. Chad Ripperger’s analysis of the subject, that:

That is, the third kind of assent is not always given, but it is usually given, since one presumes that the legitimate ecclesiastical authority teaches reliably. The one exception is when a teaching contradicts more authoritative teachings of the Church. The assent is thus conditioned on the teaching not contradicting more authoritative teaching. Note that this is quite different from the carte blanche claimed by German theologians for rejecting non-infallible teachings that are not in accord with their private theological opinions. The exception here has to do with the tradition to which the whole Church, including her rulers, are bound.

(Emphasis supplied.) Given the ongoing debate over Amoris laetitia, it is important to keep some basic principles in mind, and the assent required of the faithful is one of those principles.

There are, as Pater Waldstein observes, really two risks. On one hand, one can join any number of German-speaking theologians, 1962–present, who think that everything short of a definition implicating the pope’s extraordinary magisterium is up for debate. This is, of course, how we got Amoris laetitia in the first place; Cardinal Kasper, despite being told “no” by John Paul and Benedict, kept at it until he got something he could construe as a “maybe.” This is also why women’s ordination remains an open question. Because John Paul did not explicitly invoke his extraordinary magisterium in Ordinatio sacerdotalis, some hold that there is room for debate. (Not so, Pater Waldstein observes.)

On the other hand, one can fall into a ultra-ultramontanism, which Elliot Milco has discussed at length previously, and a sort of papal fundamentalism. The danger here is, as others have noted, turning each and every pronouncement of the reigning supreme pontiff as definitive and binding, notwithstanding the prior tradition of the Church. Just as Catholics on the left have fallen into the trap of discounting every papal pronouncement short of an extraordinary dogmatic definition, Catholics on the right have fallen into this trap.

But Pater Waldstein has done more than this. He has written a letter to Christoph Cardinal Schönborn, archbishop of Vienna, who has been the Holy Father’s official-enough interpreter of Amoris laetitia. A brief excerpt from Pater Waldstein’s letter:

At another point he writes: “A subject may know full well the rule, yet have great difficulty in understanding ‘its inherent values’, or be in a concrete situation which does not allow him or her to act differently and decide otherwise without further sin” (AL, ¶ 301). Again, one can say this about certain definite acts in the past, but when someone is contemplating their whole future way of life it is most dangerous to say something like this. We know that it is never necessary to do an act that it intrinsically evil; God always gives us a way out. Of course, one can foresee that it is likely that one will fall into a sin that has become habitual in a certain situation, but one can never intend to continue to commit acts that are objectively evil. How is it possible for someone in such a situation to sincerely seek God as their last end, highest good, and greatest happiness? One need only apply this way of reasoning to other kinds of sin to see how absurd it is. The Holy Father has been very eloquent in his condemnation of sins against the poor. Consider the case of a priest who would say to a capitalist, who denies his workers their just wage, “you are probably in a state of grace since, although you know the demands of the Gospel, you are not able to understand its inherent values.” What would the Holy Father say to such a priest? He would be horrified, and quite rightly so. Such a priest should say what the Holy Father himself says: “by closing your heart to the poor you are plunging into the eternal abyss of solitude which is Hell” (cf. Pope Francis, Message for Lent 2016). This is what people who are intending to live a life of continual adultery need to hear as well.

(Emphasis supplied.) This is a splendid point, which really ought to be repeated: the sin of adultery is not really different from any other grave sin, and we do ourselves no favors when we start distinguishing between our sins.

But beyond that we are deeply impressed to see Pater Waldstein take concrete action regarding his concerns about Amoris laetitia. The Holy Father has called for a serious, prayerful discussion of the ideas contained in Amoris laetitia, and it seems to us that part of that discussion needs to include priests (and laity) speaking frankly (but charitably) to bishops about their concerns and difficulties with that document.

His whole essay is, of course, well worth reading.

The SSPX declaration on “Amoris laetitia”

The Society of St. Pius X has issued a very, very subtle statement on Amoris laetitia. Before quoting the interesting bit, we observe that this document has essentially dispelled whatever doubt we had that the SSPX is on a trajectory toward canonical regularity. And soon.

We note first that the Society’s declaration, while being perhaps slightly—very slightly—stringently worded, comes down on the line that Amoris laetitia has created unnecessary confusion. But note the subtle maneuver here: the Society argues that the Church’s duty is to proclaim general rules, the concrete application of which in individual cases is left to pastors, confessors, and Catholics with well-formed consciences:

3. The question concerning admission of divorced-and-“remarried” persons to Holy Communion has already been addressed several times by the Church, whose clear answer has been repeated even recently. A new discussion of the Church’s constant teaching and practice could therefore only be detrimental and likely to confuse matters instead of clarifying them. And that is what happened.

4. In a papal document one expects to find a clear presentation of the Church’s magisterial teaching and the Christian manner of living. Now, as others have correctly noted, Amoris Laetitia is rather “a treatise on psychology, pedagogy, moral and pastoral theology and spirituality”. The Church has the mission of proclaiming the teaching of Jesus Christ in season and out of season and of drawing from it the necessary conclusions, all for the good of souls. It is incumbent upon her to remind men of God’s Law and not to minimize it or explain how it might not apply in some cases. The Church has the obligation of stating principles, the concrete application of which she leaves to pastors of souls, to confessors, and also to the conscience that has been enlightened by faith, the proximate rule of human action.

(Emphasis supplied and slightly reformatted.) Forgive us for being dense, but this does not seem like a root-and-branch condemnation of Amoris laetitia. It does not even seem like much of a condemnation of the fundamental innovation of Amoris laetitia. (We will assume that the Society did not intend to fully endorse the fundamental innovation, notwithstanding that last sentence.) Remember what the Holy Father said in paragraph 300:

If we consider the immense variety of concrete situations such as those I have mentioned, it is understandable that neither the Synod nor this Exhortation could be expected to provide a new set of general rules, canonical in nature and applicable to all cases. What is possible is simply a renewed encouragement to undertake a responsible personal and pastoral discernment of particular cases, one which would recognize that, since “the degree of responsibility is not equal in all cases”, the consequences or effects of a rule need not necessarily always be the same. Priests have the duty to “accompany [the divorced and remarried] in helping them to understand their situation according to the teaching of the Church and the guidelines of the bishop. Useful in this process is an examination of conscience through moments of reflection and repentance. The divorced and remarried should ask themselves: how did they act towards their children when the conjugal union entered into crisis; whether or not they made attempts at reconciliation; what has become of the abandoned party; what consequences the new relationship has on the rest of the family and the community of the faithful; and what example is being set for young people who are preparing for marriage. A sincere reflection can strengthen trust in the mercy of God which is not denied anyone”. What we are speaking of is a process of accompaniment and discernment which “guides the faithful to an awareness of their situation before God. Conversation with the priest, in the internal forum, contributes to the formation of a correct judgment on what hinders the possibility of a fuller participation in the life of the Church and on what steps can foster it and make it grow. Given that gradualness is not in the law itself (cf. Familiaris Consortio, 34), this discernment can never prescind from the Gospel demands of truth and charity, as proposed by the Church. For this discernment to happen, the following conditions must necessarily be present: humility, discretion and love for the Church and her teaching, in a sincere search for God’s will and a desire to make a more perfect response to it”. These attitudes are essential for avoiding the grave danger of misunderstandings, such as the notion that any priest can quickly grant “exceptions”, or that some people can obtain sacramental privileges in exchange for favours. When a responsible and tactful person, who does not presume to put his or her own desires ahead of the common good of the Church, meets with a pastor capable of acknowledging the seriousness of the matter before him, there can be no risk that a specific discernment may lead people to think that the Church maintains a double standard.

(Emphasis supplied.) Despite the Society’s (presumed) resistance, it is awfully hard to see much daylight between Amoris laetitia 300 and the Society’s position. It is true, of course, that the Holy Father could have spent more time setting forth the perennial general rules as formulated by St. John Paul II and the Pope Emeritus before articulating his ideas about specific culpability. However, given the tendentious attitude toward Familiaris consortio 84 that was exhibited throughout the Synodal process, we were not hugely surprised to see it breezed past and glossed over. Nonetheless, at the end of the day, the Pope seems to be saying, albeit with many more words, something not all that far removed from the Society’s position.

The strongest criticism of the SSPX’s declaration is essentially that Amoris laetitia establishes the primacy of conscience, with all the problems that entails. That is, of course, a fair criticism not only of Amoris laetitia but the mindset that emerged during the Synod, not least given some of the comments by Chicago Archbishop Blase Cupich during the Synod. (And one is kidding oneself, in our view, if this primacy of conscience business was designed to stop at communion for bigamists; it was not.) However, it seems to us that their criticism also encompasses John Paul’s personalist “theology of the body” and the Council’s understanding of marriage. In other words, the SSPX is criticizing essentially the direction of the Church as a whole over the last fifty years on these issues:

5. Because of its search for a pastoral practice based on mercy, the document is in some places marred by subjectivism and moral relativism. Objective rules are replaced, in Protestant fashion, by the individual’s conscience. This poison is in part attributable to personalism, which, in the matter of pastoral care of families, no longer places the gift of life and the good of the family first and foremost, but rather the personal fulfillment and spiritual development of the spouses. On this subject we can only deplore once again the inversion of the ends of marriage sketched out in the Pastoral Constitution Gaudium et spes of the Second Vatican Council, an inversion that is found again in Amoris Laetitia. The so-called “law of gradualness” turns Catholic morality upside down.

(Emphasis supplied and slightly reformatted.) Certainly, to our reading, the declaration does not single out Amoris laetitia for special criticism; if anything, the declaration prescinds from special criticism of Amoris laetitia in favor of criticism of broader theological trends.

Certainly the declaration ratifies some of the comments by Society priests that express a stronger attitude toward Amoris laetitia than the declaration itself does, but it seems to us, as is the case with Amoris laetitia, you cannot take a soft line and a hard line simultaneously. On the other hand, the Society shows itself once again to be very astute and very reasonable about these issues. Compared to some of the stringent—not to say hysterical—interpretations of Amoris laetitia, the Society sounds downright placid.