Cover
story
The
Vaticans enforcer
By JOHN L. ALLEN JR.
NCR Staff
Cardinal Joseph Alois Ratzinger was born in rural Bavaria on April
16, exactly 72 years ago. Perhaps it is fate that the day was Holy Saturday and
his parents were Joseph and Mary -- eerie foreshadowing for a child who would
grow up to become a stark sign of contradiction in the worlds largest
Christian church.
Like so much else about Ratzinger, how far to press that biblical
parallel is contested. Some say his 18 years as prefect of the Congregation for
the Doctrine of the Faith, the churchs guardian of orthodoxy, have been
the intellectual salvation of Roman Catholicism in a time of confusion and
compromise.
Others believe Ratzinger will be remembered as the architect of
John Pauls internal Kulturkampf, intimidating and punishing
thinkers in order to restore a model of church -- clerical, dogmatic and
rule-bound -- many hoped had been swept away by the Second Vatican Council, the
1962-65 assembly of bishops that sought to renew Catholicism and open it to the
world. Ratzingers campaign bears comparison to the anti-modernist drive
in the early part of the century or Pius XIIs crackdown in the 1950s,
critics say, but is even more disheartening because it followed a moment of
such optimism and new life.
At the most basic level, many Catholics cannot escape the sense
that Ratzingers exercise of ecclesial power is not what Jesus had in
mind.
Beneath the competing analyses and divergent views, this much is
certain: Ratzinger has drawn lines in the sand and wielded the tools of his
office on many who cross those lines. Whether necessary prophylaxis or a naked
power play, his efforts to curb dissent have left the church more bruised, more
divided, than at any point since the close of Vatican II.
Those divisions have made Ratzinger a lightning rod. An anecdote
from the mid-1980s underscores the point.
In May 1985, Ratzinger notified Franciscan Fr. Leonardo Boff that
he was to be silenced. Boff, a Brazilian, was a leading figure in liberation
theology, a Third World theological movement that seeks to place the church on
the side of the poor. Boff accepted Ratzingers verdict and withdrew to a
Franciscan monastery in Petrópolis, outside Rio de Janeiro.
Some days later, a sympathetic Brazilian bishop visited Boff to
make an unusual proposal: Boff should study all of Ratzingers writings,
including the just-published Ratzinger Report (a book-length interview
with an Italian journalist in which Ratzinger voiced gloomy views of church and
world), and then draw up an indictment accusing the cardinal of heresy. It
would be a theological form of fighting fire with fire.
The conversation was reported by Harvard theologian Harvey Cox in
his 1988 book on the Boff case. According to Cox, Boff said he wouldnt
subject anyone else to the kind of inquiry he had faced.
Nevertheless, the fact that a Catholic bishop could seriously
envision pressing charges of heresy against the churchs top doctrinal
officer -- even if it was more a political gambit than a sober theological
judgment -- illustrates Ratzingers remarkable power to polarize.
His record includes:
- Theologians disciplined, such as Fr. Charles Curran, an
American moral theologian who advocates a right to public dissent from official
church teaching; Fr. Matthew Fox, an American known for his work on creation
spirituality; Sr. Ivone Gebara, a Brazilian whose thinking blends liberation
theology with environmental concerns; and Fr. Tissa Balasuriya, a Sri Lankan
interested in how Christianity can be expressed through Eastern concepts;
- Movements blocked, such as liberation theology and, more
recently, religious pluralism (the drive to affirm other religions on their own
terms);
- Progressive bishops hobbled, including Archbishop Raymond
Hunthausen of Seattle, reproached by Rome for his tolerance of ministry to
homosexuals and his involvement in progressive political causes, and Bishop Dom
Pedro Casaldáliga of Sao Félix, Brazil, criticized for his
political engagement beyond the borders of his own diocese;
- Episcopal conferences brought to heel on issues such as
inclusive language and their own teaching authority;
- The borders of infallibility expanded, to include such
disparate points as the ban on womens ordination and the invalidity of
ordinations in the Anglican church.
Indeed, it would be difficult to find a Catholic controversy in
the past 20 years that did not somehow involve Joseph Ratzinger. Part of that
is the nature of the job, but no other 20th-century prefect of the Congregation
for the Doctrine of the Faith -- perhaps none ever -- has enjoyed
Ratzingers high profile or his centrality to the life of the church. He
and John Paul are men who believe that ideas count, and Ratzinger has
prosecuted what he considers dangerous ideas with vigor. Whether his tactics
and ironclad sense of certainty are more dangerous than the ideas he has
attempted to suppress is a question that cuts to the core of some of the
deepest divisions in the church.
After extensive interviews with leading Catholics, both friends
and foes of Ratzinger from the United States and abroad, and after digesting
thousands of pages of his writings and writings about him, three key insights
about Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger -- Ratzinger the Vatican official, if not the
man -- seemed to surface repeatedly:
- He sees his work as a defense of human freedom;
- He is convinced that he and John Paul are the rightful heirs
of Vatican II;
- He believes time is on his side.
Its important to try to understand Ratzinger on his own
terms, not merely as a historical exercise, but because believers who see the
church as he does -- Ratzinger Catholics -- are likely to be a
force long after the cardinal himself is gone.
* * *
The year was 1987, and Jesuit Fr. Joseph Fessio was not in the
best frame of mind for a reunion in Rome with his mentor and old friend, Joseph
Ratzinger.
Fessio had sought out Ratzinger when the latter was a professor of
dogmatic theology in Regensburg, Germany, in the 1970s, and under his direction
wrote a dissertation on Hans Urs von Balthasar (a Swiss Catholic
philosopher/theologian, and a hero to those who believe that liberals hijacked
the church on a false reading of Vatican II).
The two men stayed in touch after Fessio returned to the United
States and began working at the Jesuit-run University of San Francisco.
Fessios pugnacious style did not always endear him to his colleagues, and
by 1987 he had been canned as the director of the universitys St.
Ignatius Institute.
Fessio was still director of the Ignatius Press, a publishing
house. Its signature title was The Ratzinger Report, which sold 50,000
copies for the press.
The university had previously decided it didnt want to be
affiliated with Ignatius Press, which likewise had no ties to the San Francisco
archdiocese. That left Fessio to explain to Ratzinger that his publishing house
-- the one to whom the cardinal had signed over all his American rights -- had
no structural ties to the Catholic church at all.
Ratzinger, according to Fessio, listened sympathetically to the
story, including Fessios decision to incorporate separately from both the
university and the archdiocese. At the end, Ratzingers eyes twinkled as
he said: Ah, because of this double independence, you can remain
orthodox.
As a joke, the remark works better in German, but it speaks
volumes about Ratzinger the man: his graciousness, his quick wit and, clearly,
his concern with orthodoxy.
Joseph Ratzinger is, by most accounts, a charmer in person. The
silver hair and dark eyes that look so piercing in photographs have a different
effect up close; he seems more avuncular, almost frumpy, with a coy smile. Yet
he is also reserved, often preferring to use the formal German term Sie
rather than the familiar du in conversation, even with people hes
known for decades. Friends say Ratzinger has a wry sense of humor.
He is, above all, an intellectual. He completed his doctoral work
in Germany on Augustine in 1953, then published his postdoctoral dissertation
on Bonaventure in 1957.
He made the circuit of famous German theological faculties,
receiving appointments in Bonn in 1959, Münster in 1963, Tübingen in
1966 and Regensburg in 1969. He was a peritus, or theological adviser at
Vatican II. Ratzingers area was systematic theology, and hes said
to believe his best writing was on the subject of eschatology (the doctrine of
the last things).
Paul VI made him archbishop of Munich in 1977, and on Nov. 25,
1981, John Paul II brought him to Rome as prefect of the Congregation for the
Doctrine of the Faith -- formerly known as the Holy Office and before that as
the Holy Inquisition.
Virtually everyone concedes that Ratzinger is a trenchant thinker.
I think most theologians would find him a delightful dialogue partner --
if he didnt have the bureaucratic power to silence them or get them
fired, said Jesuit Fr. Thomas J. Reese, who interviewed Ratzinger for his
1996 book Inside the Vatican.
Former students and colleagues are full of praise. He is an
extraordinarily refined, calm and open-minded person, said Archbishop
William J. Levada of San Francisco, who worked on Ratzingers staff in the
early 1980s. He can listen and synthesize a group of peoples
thought and find much of value in almost anything that is said. He has the
uncanny ability to articulate those things we meant but forgot to say,
Levada told NCR in February.
Ratzinger is also, by most accounts, genuinely pious. Those who
have traveled with him tell stories of watching him steal away to pray the
breviary. The liturgy is an abiding concern for him. Ratzinger raised eyebrows
when he said in 1997 that the way Paul VI imposed the new Mass after Vatican II
created a tragic breach in the tradition.
I am convinced that the crisis in the church that we are
experiencing today is to a large extent due to the disintegration of the
liturgy ... he wrote, arguing that too much about the new rite had been
dreamed up at the desks of experts and forced on the church. In a 1998
interview, he said he hoped for a new generation of bishops who would restore
Latin to the liturgy and curb the wild excesses of the
post-conciliar era.
Such plain-spoken comments outrage some, but Vaticanologists give
Ratzinger credit for having the courage of his convictions. It is a refreshing
contrast, they say, from the ambiguous diplomatic language in which curialists
normally couch their pronouncements.
His bluntness is more than a matter of personal style. It reflects
Ratzingers deep commitment to -- some might say, obsession with --
truth.
To stand for absolute truths
Ratzingers views on truth and freedom were forged in the
crucible of World War II. As a seminarian, he was briefly enrolled in the
Hitler Youth in the early 1940s, though he was never a member of the Nazi
party. In 1943 he was conscripted into an antiaircraft unit guarding a BMW
plant outside Munich. Later Ratzinger was sent to Austrias border with
Hungary to erect tank traps. After being shipped back to Bavaria, he deserted.
When the war ended, he was an American prisoner of war.
Under Hitler, Ratzinger says he watched the Nazis twist and
distort the truth. Their lies about Jews, about genetics, were more than
academic exercises. People died by the millions because of them. The
churchs service to society, Ratzinger concluded, is to stand for absolute
truths that function as boundary markers: Move about within these limits, but
outside them lies disaster.
Later reflection on the Nazi experience also left Ratzinger with a
conviction that theology must either bind itself to the church, with its creed
and teaching authority, or it becomes the plaything of outside forces -- the
state in a totalitarian system or secular culture in Western liberal
democracies. In a widely noted 1986 lecture in Toronto, Ratzinger put it this
way: A church without theology impoverishes and blinds, while a
churchless theology melts away into caprice.
The war years likewise gave Ratzinger a strong sense of the
otherness of the church, a contrarian impulse that to be Christian
is to resist the prevailing social current. Ratzinger once expressed the point
in typically pithy fashion: Where there is no dualism, there is
totalitarianism. He meant that where the church does not offer an
alternative value system, where it sells out to the state or the culture, it
gives up its ability to protect freedom. Its an outlook that reflects the
experience of oppression, both under the Nazis and later under the communists
who harassed Ratzingers Catholic colleagues and friends in East
Germany.
His analysis is, of course, open to criticism on many levels. For
one thing, the alleged possession of eternal truth hardly immunized
German-speaking Catholics against fascism; it was the Catholic bishops of
Austria, for example, who instructed their flocks to vote in favor of Anschluss
with Hitler.
For another, its a far cry from recognizing the immutability
of basic truths -- that genocide is evil, for instance -- to insisting upon
very specific claims such as the impossibility of ordaining women. The way
Ratzinger seems to slip so easily from one to the other has led to charges that
he obscures a hierarchy of truths, lumping foundational principles
together with highly debatable hypotheses derived from those principles, and
then striking a take it or leave it stance with respect to the
whole set.
The approach has been derided as papal fundamentalism
by Jesuit Fr. John Coleman, a sociologist and theologian at Loyola Marymount
University, and as magisterial maximalism by Fr. Richard McCormick,
a moral theologian at Notre Dame. This approach is embodied in such documents
as the 1990 Instruction on the Ecclesial Vocation of the
Theologian, where Ratzinger demands assent to the magisterium even when
its statements arent proclaimed as infallible, such as the ban on women
priests; asserts that the magisterium can authoritatively interpret the natural
law, in contrast to Curran and others who believe it should be open to reasoned
debate; and says that the documents of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the
Faith are covered by the popes magisterium.
Ratzinger has suggested that those who seek to alter church
teaching on what he regards as matters of revelation are attempting to
substitute raw political power for Gods will. Its a step he
believes reaches its logical end in tyranny.
Fessio puts the point succinctly: The Nazis helped him
understand the liberal mind. Liberals are as closed to genuine dialogue as
fascists.
Only by grasping this core conviction, that slavery begins when
power dislodges truth, is it possible to understand how Ratzingers
supporters can insist he has not been a repressive force. Far from it, they say
-- he has simply marked off the intellectual boundaries beyond which the church
loses itself and imperils freedom.
I do not believe any credible case could be made for him as
an authoritarian, said Dominican Fr. Augustine Di Noia, theological
adviser for the U.S. bishops conference. Faith is not the suppression of
intelligence, but its exaltation. The fundamental divide between dissenting or
revisionist theologians and the mode of John Paul II and Ratzinger lies along
this fault. Ratzinger is stating points which would have been totally
noncontroversial even 50 years ago, Di Noia said.
Di Noia and others note that Ratzinger has never attempted to
impose his own theological system on the church. He is certainly not trying to
force Thomism down anyones throat, Di Noia observes, since Ratzinger
himself is an Augustinian. On the rare occasions when he has had to rein
someone in, Di Noia says, it is because a clear line in the sand
was crossed.
For those who have found themselves on the wrong side of one of
those lines, however, Ratzingers logic doesnt always seem so
clear.
* * *
Fr. Charles Curran says he remembers how he first got wind that
the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith might be gunning for him.
While he was teaching moral theology at the Catholic University of
America in Washington -- where he intended to end his career -- Curran got a
cryptic letter from a colleague and mentor, the legendary moral theologian Fr.
Joseph Fuchs, then living in Rome.
Fuchs letter said: On the basis of certain facts, I
have the impression that someone here might be interested in you.
Curran said he eventually learned what Fuchs certain
facts were. He was talking about a phone call from the librarian at
Gregorian University, who had asked Fuchs to return some books by Curran he had
checked out. The Holy Office, the librarian said, was looking for them. By the
way, the librarian asked, did Fuchs have anything else by Curran? The Holy
Office would probably want those, too.
It was not a good sign.
Later, Curran said, he noticed that his work began to show up in
footnotes of articles written by a well-known consultor for the congregation.
Soon he was notified that his job at the Catholic University of America might
be in jeopardy, and what would become one of the highest profile cases of
Ratzingers term had begun. (Currans case was actually opened by
Ratzingers predecessor at the congregation, Croatian Cardinal Franjo
Seper.)
Curran, who led the American resistance to Humanae Vitae in
the late 1960s, lost his license to teach Catholic theology after an exchange
of letters with the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, culminating in
an informal meeting with Ratzinger in Rome on March 8, 1986, (the
back-and-forth correspondence is printed in Currans book Faithful
Dissent). Curran was removed from his position at Catholic University in
January 1987. He filed suit, but the judge in the case declined to overrule the
university. Today, Curran teaches at Southern Methodist University in
Dallas.
Both authority and theologians are trying to be faithful,
are striving for the truth, Curran told NCR. Its not a
matter of authority versus conscience. Truth is the third term, and to that
extent Ratzinger is right. The problem is that he has too readily identified
the truth with what the magisterium has taught at a given moment. The Holy
Office cannot have a copyright on what it means to be Catholic, Curran
said.
The political question
Mercy Sr. Margaret Farley of Yale, president-elect of the Catholic
Theological Society of America, is likewise skeptical of the claim that those
seeking change in certain teachings or practices see the church only in
political terms.
Who could possibly say that the church is not a political
organization? Its not merely political, but unless we get its political
criteria straight its not going to be what it should be, Farley
told NCR.
In at least two ways, Ratzinger critics believe the cardinal has
himself placed politics above truth. Curran says thats been the case with
his selection of targets. If you were really going to go after liberation
theologians in the 1980s, you would have gone after Juan Luis Segundo (from
Uruguay), not Boff (from Brazil). But he wanted to target Brazil, because
its a big, influential church.
The same with me. There were plenty of dissenters from
Humanae Vitae, but they target me because the U.S. church is rich and
powerful and they want to send a message. Its hard to avoid the
conclusion that these were political calculations.
Others have spotted politics in the evolution of Ratzingers
own theological positions. In 1965, for example, Ratzinger in a
Concilium article called national episcopal conferences the best
means of concrete plurality in unity, arguing that theyre rooted in
the ancient church. As prefect, however, Ratzinger has insisted that episcopal
conferences have no such status; a bishop can teach in his own diocese and all
the bishops together can teach in a council, but theres nothing in
between. That was the thrust of the recent papal document Apostolos
Suos.
Why the shift? NCRs late Vatican affairs
correspondent Peter Hebblethwaite suggested in 1986 that its an instance
of Ratzinger using theology ideologically. Its much easier to cow an
individual bishop than a strong conference, so by reducing the power of
conferences, Ratzinger boosts his own.
Ratzingers defenders argue that his image as a harsh
inquisitor is based on a handful of highly publicized cases. More often, they
say, concerns about a theologians work are resolved quietly and
cooperatively. Others close to Ratzinger argue that the congregation sometimes
exercises a calming influence when a bishop or group demands action.
Curran says its a mistake to conclude that the only people
targeted by the congregation are those whose cases wind up in the media.
The number of cases hes opened has been staggering. There are other
people you dont hear about that theyve harassed, he said.
Directly I know of five others in the United States that have not become
public, and indirectly many more.
The theological chill
factor
More to the point, Curran and others suggest that Ratzinger is
responsible for what they call a chill factor, a climate of fear in
the theological community that discourages honesty in areas such as sexual
ethics, religious pluralism and political theology. Thinkers in these areas are
conditioned, critics say, to fear what Boff once called symbolic
violence -- censure, silencing, excommunication -- if they go too
far.
The type of theologians most subject to this pressure today
are those who are priests, religious or employed in seminaries, Reese
said.
Some critics have compared this chill factor to the
anti-modernist drive of Pius X in the first decade of the 20th century. In both
cases, they argue, conservative popes set out to stem theological currents that
had developed under their moderate predecessors. The pastoral and intellectual
toll exacted by the anti-modernist drive, by most accounts, was vast.
Everything went underground, said Jay Dolan, a church
history expert at Notre Dame. Good work was still being done, but it was
done out of public view -- in liturgy, in scripture studies. Seminarians coming
up through the system werent learning anything creative. It wasnt
exactly brain rot, but it was an unhealthy situation.
Dolan says the more exact parallel to the Ratzinger campaign may
be with what happened under Pius XII after the publication of Humani
Generis in 1950. That encyclical, condemning modernizing tendencies in
theology, led to the silencing or intimidation of some of the leading
theologians of the time, such as the American Jesuit John Courtney Murray,
widely regarded as the driving force behind Vatican IIs document on
religious liberty. Many of the same thinkers would later emerge as key advisers
at the council.
Theologians sympathetic to Ratzinger scoff at suggestions of a
similar chill factor today. Michael Waldstein, an Austrian with
degrees in biblical scholarship and theology who taught at the University of
Notre Dame for several years in the 1990s, said he didnt see evidence of
a repressive climate there.
Observing [Fr.] Richard McBrien [professor of theology] and
[Fr.] Dick McCormick reasonably closely, I dont think they were in the
least crimped or limited by what was done to Charlie Curran, for example.
McBrien proposed that Curran be hired at Notre Dame. In the new Encyclopedia of
Catholicism, Curran wrote the article on contraception.
In actual fact, taking these guys as examples, I dont
see that their action has been limited by what was imposed, said
Waldstein, who got to know Ratzinger in the 1980s and later served on the
special 11-man working group that put the American lectionary in its final form
(NCR, Sept. 25, 1998).
Dolan believes Ratzingers efforts to curb dissent have been
much less sweeping, less severe than those under Pius X.
There is a tightening up on the side of Rome, but the impact is far less
pervasive -- in part, Dolan said, because so much Catholic theology is
being done outside Catholic institutions today.
Self-correcting community
Reese argues that Ratzinger might have better luck if he just let
theology alone.
The mistake the Vatican makes is to not realize that the
theological community is a self-correcting community of scholars, like any
other discipline, Reese said. Often the worst thing the Vatican can
do is to condemn a theologian, because no one will criticize that theologian
for fear of looking like a toady of the Vatican.
Reese mentioned the position on infallibility of Hans Küng,
the liberal Swiss theologian and frequent Ratzinger critic, and certain
elements in liberation theology as examples.
American Jesuit Fr. John Rock, who worked for Ratzinger from 1990
to 1995, told NCR that the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith is
concerned with the well-being of the whole Catholic faithful and their right to
hear authentic doctrine from those who teach in the churchs name.
Theologians arent the only ones whose rights have to be considered, he
said.
Rock, who now teaches at St. Marys University in San
Antonio, argued that some Catholics reduce everything to debatable opinion.
But as German theologian Leo Scheffczyk once put it, when Rome
intervenes, it does so foremost in the manner of the fisherman and not that of
the intellectual, Rock said.
In the U.S. we have the principle of civilian control over
the military; in the church we have pastoral authority even over
theologians.
Its hard to believe now, but Ratzinger was once a
theological Young Turk himself, pushing against the limits of ecclesial
authority. Lots of church history in the past 30 years can be summed up in this
transition from Ratzinger the Vatican II reformer to Ratzinger the congregation
prefect.
* * *
In his 1998 book The Interrupted Leap, Auxiliary Bishop
Helmut Krätzl of Vienna, Austria, paints a picture of the heady days of
Vatican II when he was a young seminarian living in the Anima, the
German-language residence in Rome. Walking the corridors of the Anima in those
days was Joseph Ratzinger, then a fiery young professor of dogmatic theology,
present at the council as a peritus to one of the most powerful prelates
in the church.
To Krätzl and his fellow seminarians, Ratzinger was a titan.
Krätzl now writes about Ratzinger the way a man might mention an older
brother with whom hes no longer on speaking terms -- he still remembers
that youthful hero worship, but its tinged with adult regret.
Ratzinger was the chief adviser for Cardinal Joseph Frings, the
aging cardinal of Cologne, Germany. Frings was positioned to be a key figure
even before the first session of Vatican II began. As a moderate, his support
for change would carry extra credibility; and as the president of the German
bishops conference, he was well-known in episcopal conferences throughout the
Third World because of the German churchs extensive foreign aid (made
possible by the church tax).
Ratzinger himself has played down his role, but Krätzl says
his importance to Frings is impossible to overstate. The cardinal was nearly
blind by 1962, the year Vatican II opened and he relied on Ratzinger and
another aide to summarize each days paperwork and speeches, as well as to
draft his interventions.
Scandal to the world
It was thus Joseph Ratzinger who is said to have penned
Frings famous line about the Holy Office, asserting that its
methods and behavior do not conform to the modern era and are a source of
scandal to the world.
Krätzl, who believes the progressive energy generated by
Vatican II has been stifled under John Paul, sums up his observations of
Ratzinger at the council this way: No one would have suspected that
Joseph Ratzinger, who inserted himself so energetically for a renewed vision of
the church and thus struggled against the one-sided exercise of power by the
curia, would later become himself a high-ranking curial cardinal and prefect of
the CDF.
Krätzl is hardly alone in that perception. The apparent shift
in Ratzinger from leading progressive in 1962 to architect of the restoration
today, has fueled accusations of inconsistency at best and hypocritical
careerism at worst.
The standard explanation is that Ratzinger was horrified by the
German student revolutions of 1968, and has retreated into an increasingly
conservative stance. That thesis has been advanced by Küng.
A surprising consensus exists among those who have followed
Ratzinger closely, however -- both critics and admirers -- that the differences
in Ratzinger before and after the council have been exaggerated. Understanding
this consensus helps explain how widely differing interpretations of Vatican II
have remained in tension for the past 35 years.
The politics of the council often boiled down to a basic decision
for or against change, with the curia struggling to maintain a status quo that
had prevailed more or less intact since the Council of Trent.
In the much larger pro-change camp, Curran and others identify at
least two differing impulses. The first is the aggiornamento movement, whose
leading idea was an embrace of the modern world. For that group -- including
Küng, French ecclesiologist Yves Congar, and German systematic theologian
Karl Rahner -- the fundamental conciliar text is Gaudium et Spes, the
document on the church in the modern world, with its soaring language about
integrating the joys and hope, the grief and anguish, of humanity into what it
means to be Christian.
A return to sources
The other impulse was ressourcement, a return to the
sources, especially scripture and the church fathers. That group -- including
Urs von Balthasar, and French theologian Henri de Lubac -- saw Lumen
Gentium, the pastoral constitution on the church, as their charter.
Although it gave Catholics the concept of belonging to a pilgrim
church, Lumen Gentium also underscored the traditional
understanding of the church as a hierarchy through patristic and scriptural
citations. Ressourcement is, in that sense, a back to basics
movement.
It is the ressourcement group, Curran says, with which
Ratzinger most identified himself. After the council, each faction launched its
own journal -- Concilium for the aggiornamento movement, Communio
for the ressourcement circle. Both groups wanted to break the church out of its
neo-scholastic rut, but the ressourcement circle wanted change much more
restrictively grounded in the earlier stages of the tradition. It was always
suspicious of modernity and cautious about new theological currents -- as is
Ratzinger today. In that sense Ratzinger really hasnt changed that
much, Curran said.
Di Noia agreed. What I believe has happened since the
council is that revisionist theology has made aggiornamento primary over the
ressourcement, which was really the main current before the council. I
do not see any reversal in Ratzinger or the pope.
In many ways, this same division -- between the aggiornamento and
the ressourcement impulses -- runs through the church today, and it
helps explain why Catholics can be equally passionate about their commitment to
the council, can use the same conciliar language and point to the same
documents, and still reach such opposing conclusions. To put it simplistically,
the touchstone for aggiornamento Catholics, the lens through which they read
the council, is looking forward to a new kind of church to be fashioned by
integrating the best insights of the modern age; for ressourcement
Catholics, the key is looking back, rediscovering the tradition and living it
anew. They are not mutually exclusive, but they tend to emphasize different
dimensions of an issue.
On very basic questions, the two impulses can coincide, as they
did on the desirability of a new order for the Mass to replace the Tridentine
rite. But at the level of detail -- how much Latin is too much, which way the
altar should face, what kind of music is appropriate, and so on -- such
consensus dissipates. Both sides feel validated by Vatican II, both feel the
other is guilty of selective emphasis in their reading of the councils
texts.
A lot left undefined
This division helps explain why so many former Ratzinger allies
may feel he betrayed them, while he sees continuity. In any movement,
theres a lot left undefined, covered more by attitude than articulated
thought, Waldstein said. People who felt him to be in their circle,
sharing their attitudes, have since seen his shift of allegiances as a
betrayal. But I do think theres consistency in the actual positions he
takes.
Di Noia contends that Ratzinger has followed through on his
criticism of the Holy Office during the council. This was one of the most
secretive institutions in the church for hundreds of years. It cannot be
underestimated that he opened it up, Di Noia said.
Its procedures, its staff, are all now a matter of public
record. In the cloud of controversy that surrounds him that has sometimes been
forgotten. He has transformed it into a very modern office.
That argument is strenuously rejected by critics such as Sacred
Heart Fr. Paul Collins, an Australian currently under investigation for his
book Papal Power. Collins charges that procedures used by the
congregation fail to meet the most basic standards of human rights,
such as the right to know ones accuser or even to be notified that an
inquiry is under way.
Waldstein, however, said Ratzingers embrace of Vatican II is
so extensive that it has earned him enemies on the Catholic right. During
Waldsteins undergraduate days in the 1980s at Thomas Aquinas College, a
bastion of conservative Catholicism in Santa Paula, Calif., he said he ran into
right-wing dissent directed toward Ratzinger and the pope, because both were
too associated with the council.
There was a much more critical assessment of Ratzinger and
John Paul II, for buying into personalism and the liberalism associated with
that, as opposed to neo-Thomism, Waldstein said.
In this regard, Ratzinger and John Paul stand together -- as they
do on most things. The pope trusts Ratzinger and has made his office the most
powerful in the Vatican.
It wasnt that way when Ratzinger took over,
Reese said. Any document dealing with doctrine or teaching has to be
cleared by Ratzinger, and that means practically everything.
Vatican sources say that Ratzinger is frequently consulted on
matters that arent strictly doctrinal. He serves on the Congregation for
Bishops, and is widely believed to exercise an informal veto over
appointments.
He and the pope have disagreed. By most accounts, Ratzinger was
harder on liberation theology than John Paul, who sympathized with its critique
of the cruelties of capitalism. There is also a temperamental difference. The
pope is, observers say, an optimist with a huge mystical streak, while
Ratzinger has often suggested that Christianity may need to become smaller and
less culturally significant in order to remain faithful.
Such contrasts led George Weigel, a syndicated Catholic columnist,
to note the irony that two men who work so well together should have such
different visions of the future.
Ratzinger and John Paul share at least this much in terms of what
they expect of the future, however: They both expect to be vindicated by
it.
* * *
In graduate school in the 1950s, Ratzinger found himself fishing
around for a topic for his Habilitationsschrift, the book-length
contribution to research a German doctoral student has to complete after his
dissertation. His mentor, professor Gottlieb Söhngen, suggested that he
work on St. Bonaventure.
Ratzinger liked the idea, and produced a daring thesis on
revelation. He showed that according to Bonaventure, words on a page mean
nothing without someone to interpret them. Ratzinger saw this insight as a
refutation of Luthers sola scriptura principle, but his superiors
accused him -- in what many cannot help but see today as a supreme irony -- of
relativism. Ratzinger seemed to be saying that scripture could mean different
things to different people!
The work was rejected.
Ratzinger then focused on Bonaventures conflict with the
Spiritual Franciscans. That branch of the Franciscan movement had
been inspired by the apocalyptic visionary Joachim of Fiore to expect a third
age of history, an era of the Holy Spirit, in which the poor would be liberated
and the rich torn down. Bonaventure, Ratzinger argued, rejected this
expectation of a dramatic intervention by God inside human history.
The reign of God, in other words, had to wait for the next world.
Ratzinger put it this way: Orthodox belief tears eschatology apart from
history.
Thus when Ratzinger began investigating liberation theology in the
1980s, he thought it had a familiar ring. The liberation theologians too,
Ratzinger felt, wanted redemption inside history, and he saw their hopes as
equally false.
In taking on liberation theology, Ratzinger saw himself picking up
Bonaventures argument against the Spiritual Franciscans from several
hundred years before (he also, according to friends, saw echoes of the
Marxist-inspired 1968 student revolts in liberation theology).
Thinking for the long run
Ratzinger has been heavily criticized for this tendency to see
Third World movements through a European lens, but its an example of how
he thinks in centuries, according to his supporters. Hes not
looking to win todays battle, they say, but to shape the way the church
thinks about a controversy 200 years from now.
I think he and John Paul are thinking very much in the long
run, Waldstein said. In the present, the fronts of discussion are
often very hard. It isnt easy to sway peoples minds, he said.
Ive yet to meet a theologian who said before
Humanae Vitae (the 1968 papal document that reiterated the ban on birth
control) I was in favor of contraception, but then I changed my mind.
Thats not the kind of response theyre looking for. In the long run,
when some of the controversies of the present are forgotten, then you can
expect an impact.
As a case in point, Waldstein looks to Jansenism, a theological
movement premised on certain views of grace and freedom popular in 17th-century
Europe. At the time, papal condemnations did not have the effect of
convincing the theologians in Paris to change their minds, Waldstein
said. But when people eventually had the wherewithal to oppose it, they
had the papal documents in place. Today Jansenism is not a viable
force.
Reese argues that a sober perusal of church history does not
warrant such confidence.
The record of the Vatican in this area is not very good,
considering that many theologians condemned in the past now are recognized as
great thinkers and loyal churchmen, Reese said, such as Congar and
Murray. Theres a clear historical record of the Vatican condemning
people and later having to say, Sorry, theyre really fine
theologians.
Anyway, Reese says Ratzinger has a crisis on his hands in the
present. Reese wrote in Inside the Vatican that the relationship between
the papacy and theologians today is worse than at any time since the
Reformation.
On this point, even Waldstein concedes a problem. Its
a really unfortunate thing that a high level of irritation among many academic
theologians has developed, Waldstein said. I saw it when I was at
Notre Dame. It would have helped a lot if Ratzinger had reached out
more.
Ratzinger believes he has reached out. During a mid-February visit
to California for a consultation with bishops from the United States, Canada
and Oceania, he ticked off several examples of consultation:
We have begun since the 1970s the symposia, great assemblies
about important issues of theology and important problems of the time. ... We
also as far as possible have good contact with the bishops conferences as
mediators between the Holy See and the bishops, because not only the Holy
Father but the bishops are the magisterium, Ratzinger said.
For example we held some years ago a very interesting
meeting with the Indian bishops. We thought it is difficult for us as Western
people to intervene in the reflection of the Indian theologians. ... I think
this is a good way to have peace in the church.
(Ratzinger turned down requests for an interview for this article,
but had an aide invite an NCR reporter to a news conference after the
consultation in Menlo Park, Calif.)
The Indian bishops
Those who know him say Ratzinger sincerely believes he has
operated in a consultative manner. Yet even with respect to his own example --
dialogue with the Indian bishops -- just the past year has seen two highly
public clashes between Rome and the Indian hierarchy, one over the posthumous
censure of Indian Jesuit Fr. Anthony de Mello and another over the
investigation of Belgian Jesuit Fr. Jacques Dupuis, whose work on religious
pluralism reflects decades spent in India. In both cases, Indian bishops were
openly critical.
Sr. Farley, who said she admires Ratzinger as a theologian,
nevertheless said his attempts at consultation fall short in part because the
range of voices hes hearing is too narrow. I dont know anyone
the CDF has consulted personally, she said. Theyve had
conferences on women, for example, but nobody who has any feminist concerns was
invited to speak.
Its not a concerted effort to exclude people,
Farley said, but rather a failure to bring people in. She suggested
inviting professional societies such as the Catholic Theological Society of
America, the Catholic Biblical Association and the Canon Law Society to send
representatives to serve on consultative groups.
A formal instrument of consultation does exist in the
International Theological Commission, an innovation of Paul VI that was
supposed to provide the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith with access
to the worlds leading theological advisers. Di Noia says the body is
still hugely, hugely important. Curran disagrees. The
International Theological Commission has been a joke because of the kinds of
people appointed, who by definition will be all safe people, he said.
Faithful Catholics do want to surrender to authority,
Farley said. But its so clear to most people that not all voices
are heard. If there is to be a center to speak for the church, its credibility
depends in part on whether it has listened to the faithful.
* * *
Ratzinger is cosmopolitan, fluent in at least four languages and
with a reading knowledge of several others, but he is also a man of simple
routine. For example, for most of his 18 years in Rome he has set off on foot
each morning to work, leaving his apartment above the last stop of the
citys No. 64 bus and arriving at his office in the Piazza
SantUffizio promptly at 9 a.m.
Ratzinger walks alone in a simple cassock, usually unnoticed amid
the gaggles of clerics that dot the area around the Vatican. Stories abound of
tourists stopping him for directions or asking him questions about the pope and
St. Peters, having no idea who they were talking to.
To his friends, this is evidence of Ratzingers humility. But
his ability to blend in makes another point, too: Despite his high profile in
the churchs intellectual and professional classes, to the vast majority
of the worlds one billion Catholics, Joseph Ratzinger is just another
face in the crowd.
This point has led some to wonder if the intense debate that
swirls around Ratzinger, the media attention and the hype, exaggerates his real
importance. The average Catholic in an American (or Guatemalan, or Sri Lankan)
parish or faith-sharing group, this argument runs, doesnt know and
doesnt care what a septuagenarian prelate in Rome thinks. Moreover,
theres no reason why they should: If the seismic shift at Vatican II was
to identify the church as the whole people of God, why continue to fixate on
curial elites like Ratzinger? Paying attention to them, even in the form of
disagreement, simply reinforces their claims to power.
Wouldnt it be more productive to embrace the new forms of
church coming to life -- the small Christian communities, the womens
eucharistic celebrations, the work for peace and justice being carried out in a
thousand different centers of energy and daring -- rather than forever
lamenting the inadequacies of the institution?
Challenging Ratzinger
It is a seductive argument, and it is true that one can badly
misunderstand Catholicism -- like any society or culture -- by focusing too
much on its ruling class. There is great vitality at the churchs
grassroots today unrelated to decisions made in Rome, and perhaps that is the
more important story. Yet many Catholics who have been scorched by Ratzinger
believe that this just ignore em approach is, in the end, a
flight from reality.
It would be great if we had a church where one could simply
dismiss what inquisitors like Ratzinger say and do, but thats not
Catholicism today, Collins said. Too many real people are being
hurt by his power plays, and somebody has to speak on their behalf. If our
commitment to the marginalized means anything, it has to apply to the
marginalized inside the church. That means challenging the likes of Ratzinger
when they refuse to ordain women or when they silence theologians or in other
ways try to squelch the gospel.
Despite what some far-distant evolution may bring, Collins and
others argue that for the foreseeable future bishops appointed by Rome will
still make decisions about parishes and schools and other institutions all over
the world. They will hire and fire, control budgets, approve transfers and
demotions, issue and withdraw approval for textbooks and liturgical practices,
decide which political causes are worth spending resources on, and in scores of
other ways exercise power that affects the lives of millions of people.
To the extent Ratzinger shapes how those decisions are made, he
matters. Perhaps it is not the church as it should be, but thats how it
is.
There may, however, be an even more trenchant argument for paying
attention to Ratzinger. Precisely because he is such a polarizing force, he may
be a test case for the possibility of common ground. Since opinions about
Ratzinger tend to reflect ones deepest convictions about the church, if
the Catholics most invested in church politics could meet each other halfway
about Ratzinger, perhaps theres hope for dialogue on other matters.
Sources told NCR that such a conversation would raise some
hard questions all around. For Ratzingers liberal critics in the First
World, several challenges surfaced in the reporting. Does he have a point, for
example, about truth? As sons and daughters of consumer culture conditioned to
seek our own gratification, perhaps we do repress or rationalize truths that
get in our way. Similarly, in the rush to embrace modernity after Vatican II,
has the church indeed suppressed or forgotten some things of value -- is there
a need for a careful restoration, not as a political program, but a
recovery of traditions that nurtured the religious imagination of Catholics for
two millennia?
Finally, is Ratzinger right that belonging to a disparate, global
family of faith means that we cant always reshape the church in our image
-- in the inevitable tension between fidelity to ones own vision and not
rupturing the community, does being Catholic sometimes mean picking the
latter?
On the other side, can Ratzingers conservative admirers
admit that the careers hes derailed, the views hes censured, do not
belong -- and never did -- to real enemies of the faith? That the forms of
symbolic violence that are the tools of Ratzingers profession, the
excommunications and censures and inquisitorial procedures, are in the end
Catholic versions of the same abuses Jesus condemned in the religious
authorities of his time? Can conservatives see the poignancy of this question:
If truth is attractive and the faith is compelling, why do we need
heresy-hunters at all?
One could envision a really important dialogue about the
issues surrounding Ratzinger, Reese said. The question is whether
it could penetrate all the polemics -- and whether Ratzinger himself would
allow it to happen, or whether he would shut it down by policing the
conversation.
* * *
There is still the possibility, of course, that Ratzinger will not
end his career as the hierarchys No. 2 man. At some point there will be
another conclave, and Ratzinger, if hes still around, will be in the
running for the top job. Could he become pope?
Fessio thinks it could happen. If the present pope died
suddenly, they might want an older person for interim continuity, he
said. Ratzinger has many abilities the rest of the cardinals are aware of
-- his command of languages, his knowledge of cultures, his knowledge of the
faith.
Reese, however, thinks it unlikely. For one thing, Ratzinger would
be almost 75, and he doesnt think the cardinals will elect someone so
close to the official retirement age. Anyway, Ratzingers become too
controversial. They will look for someone who can heal divisions rather than
exacerbate them, Reese said. He added, I could be wrong.
Assuming Ratzingers tenure in the Vatican ends with his
present job, what is one to make of it? Perhaps Waldstein is right that the
battle lines are too hardened in the present for any definitive judgment. Maybe
it will take the perspective that comes only with time to allow observers to
get past the polemics and appreciate his real impact on the church.
Jacques Maritain once said, The important thing is not to be
a success. The important thing is to be in history bearing the witness.
In that light, perhaps Ratzinger will come to be judged positively. He has
borne a consistent witness, stood fast for his own vision -- which he would
argue is the vision of Christ. It is with such considerations in view that
Fessio boldly predicts Ratzinger will be remembered as one of the great
saints of our time.
Yet the stark divisions, the ruptures in the church Ratzinger has
helped to create these past 18 years must also be part of his legacy. Many
Catholics cant help thinking it could all have been different. The same
truths could have been presented, the same errors exposed, in more pastoral
fashion. The wounds could have been less frequent, less deep, quicker to
heal.
In his acclaimed biography of Robert Kennedy, Arthur Schlesinger
Jr. described standing at Kennedys funeral and watching Chicago Mayor
Richard Daley and Yippie activist Tom Hayden, such bitter enemies in that
summer of 1968, quietly sobbing in different corners. Schlesinger wrote that a
friend was reminded of a line from Pascal: A man does not show his
greatness by being at one extremity, but rather by touching both at
once.
If thats the standard, then despite his intellect, his
piety, his sense of purpose, all that makes him remarkable, history may not be
so kind to Joseph Ratzinger after all.
National Catholic Reporter, April 16,
1999
|