Today we are blessed with another guest post from David Cruz-Uribe, SFO. We thank him for taking the time for writing this.
Over at America Magazine, Nicholas Lash, Norris-Hulse Professor of Divinity at Cambridge University, has an article on the Magisterium, framed as a discussion of the difference between “teaching” and “commanding”. He has many good points, but he raises two I want to throw out for discussion.
The first is on how to characterize people—priest, theologians, laity—who disagree with statements made by the hierarchy: are they “disagreeing” or “dissenting”? If you think of the Magisterium as teaching, then “disagree” would be the operative word. As a teacher myself, I am used to, and indeed expect, my students to disagree with me when we discuss controversial topics. If I think they are wrong, my goal is to try to show them where I believe their error lies, without forcing them (“commanding”) them to believe me on threat of a bad grade. (Frequently, from student evaluations, I see that students believe I punish students who disagree with me, and reward students who agree with me. I wish I could show them my grade book so that they would see that the reverse is often true.)
His second point, however, is more interesting to me. It concerns the role of “reception” in teaching. He says:
Hence the importance of the doctrine of “reception.” In one of St. Augustine’s sermons (No. 272) he says: “When I hold up the host before communion, I say ‘Corpus Christi,’ and you reply ‘Amen,’ which means: ‘Yes, we are.’” The response of the faithful to sound teaching in the church is to say, “Yes, that’s it.” Where this response is lacking, the teaching is called into question. Securus judicat orbis terrarum (“The judgment of the whole world is secure”). In the months leading up to the first Vatican Council, Cardinal John Henry Newman insisted that he “put the validity of the Council upon its reception by the orbis terrarum” (whole world). And when, after the council, he hesitated before accepting the definition of papal infallibility, Lord Acton remarked, “He was waiting for the echo.”
This is an important feature of the life of the Church; I feel that this is THE way in which the laity can “teach” the hierarchy. The only place, however, where its role is openly acknowledged is in the canonization of saints. While not absolutely necessary, it is generally critical to the cause of the saint that there be a widespread cultus which acknowledges the sanctity of the candidate for sainthood. This can be aided (some might say created) by the applications of cash and organization—think of the cause of Fr. Michael McGivney, backed by the full faith and credit of the Knights of Columbus. (Before anyone jumps me for this: I belong to the KofC and find much that is admirable in Fr. McGivney’s life and work.)
I have thought of three other examples, all controversial to one degree or another, on the role of reception and teaching. The most controversial, of course, is on artificial birth control. This is the clearest example of a doctrine that has not been “received” by the laity: polling data demonstrates that the vast majority of Catholics, even those who by other empirical measures are “faithful Catholics” do not accept this teaching. However, the Church continues to regard this as “dissent” and does not seem open to listening to the insight and life experiences that have led to this rejection.
A second example is altar girls, which was a great fight in the late 80’s and early 90’s. Here again, the canons that forbid young women from being altar servers were not accepted, and were openly challenged; first by pastors and their congregations, and later by a few bishops. In the end, Rome changed the canons, and the practice became widespread. There has been occasional push-back (the scandal in Platteville discussed on another thread comes to mind), but I think that this is a clear case in which a “teaching” was no longer “received” and so was changed. But, one thing I recall from the days after the change was the complaint by some conservatives was that the whole incident would “teach liberals that if they whine enough they will get their way.”
A third example is the Tridentine Mass. This is more complicated, because there are currents running in both directions. But it seems to me that one way to analyze this is that a group of laity did not “receive” the changes to the liturgy after Vatican II, and began to push back against their local bishops. As was the case with altar girls, this lack of reception caused Rome to modify its stance, first under John Paul II, and then more broadly under Benedict XVI. While the liturgical preferences of Benedict XVI do play a role in this, it is at least worth asking if he would have acted on the Latin mass if there was not a body of laity who were pushing for it: I don’t think he would respond to a demand that was not there. (Unless, of course, you want to view this in terms of a Chomskian “manufactured consent” analysis.)
What lessons can we draw from these and other examples? (I appeal to the Church historians among us for other examples of “reception” or the lack thereof through Church history.) I realize that it is only after the fact that we can truly see whether a lack of reception was the work of the Holy Spirit in the Church, but surely there must be some way to discern the working of the Spirit in “the signs of the times.”
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