Vatican II documents

Lumen Gentium: Mary

The final chapter of Lumen Gentium,¹ the Vatican II dogmatic constitution on the Church, is dedicated in its entirety to Jesus’ mum, Mary, and to her role not only in the Church but in the whole of Jesus’ mission and the salvation he brought for all.²

The starting point here is a strong emphasis on Mary’s intimate union both with the Trinity and with humanity:

“The Virgin Mary, who at the message of the angel received the Word of God in her heart and in her body and gave Life to the world, is acknowledged and honored as being truly the Mother of God and Mother of the Redeemer. Redeemed by reason of the merits of her Son and united to Him by a close and indissoluble tie, she is […] the Mother of the Son of God, by which account she is also the beloved daughter of the Father and the temple of the Holy Spirit. [… S]he far surpasses all creatures, both in heaven and on earth. At the same time, however, because she belongs to the offspring of Adam she is one with all those who are to be saved.”

Mary’s unique position in creation is next traced back to the Tanakh, where she fulfills the “promise of victory over the serpent which was given to our first parents after their fall into sin (cf. Genesis 3:15),” and is foretold as the “Virgin who shall conceive and bear a son, whose name will be called Emmanuel” (cf. Isaiah 7:14), where “Emmanuel” (עִמָּנוּאֵל) in Hebrew means “God is with us.” As such “[s]he stands out among the poor and humble of the Lord, who confidently hope for and receive salvation from Him.”

While Mary’s “unique holiness” is underlined repeatedly, so is her free assent to the will of God:

“Adorned from the first instant of her conception with the radiance of an entirely unique holiness, the Virgin of Nazareth is greeted, on God’s command, by an angel messenger as “full of grace”, (cf. Luke 1:28) and to the heavenly messenger she replies: “Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it done unto me according to thy word”.(287) Thus Mary, a daughter of Adam, consenting to the divine Word, became the mother of Jesus.”

Here Mary was “used by God not merely in a passive way, but as freely cooperating in the work of human salvation through faith and obedience,” which – in St. Irenaeus’ words – made her “the cause of salvation for herself and for the whole human race. […] The knot of Eve’s disobedience was untied by Mary’s obedience; what the virgin Eve bound through her unbelief, the Virgin Mary loosened by her faith.”(St. Irenaeus, Against Heresies, III, 22, 4).

From His conception to His ascension to Heaven, Mary closely follows and supports Jesus, including her prompting Jesus’ first miracle at the wedding feast of Cana (cf. John 2:1-11) and her faith being tested at the foot of the cross, “grieving exceedingly with her only begotten Son, uniting herself with a maternal heart with His sacrifice.” Already at that moment, Mary took on a new role, when “she was given by […] Jesus dying on the cross as a mother to His disciple” John and thereby to the whole Church:

“She conceived, brought forth and nourished Christ. She presented Him to the Father in the temple, and was united with Him by compassion as He died on the Cross. In this singular way she cooperated by her obedience, faith, hope and burning charity in the work of the Saviour in giving back supernatural life to souls. Wherefore she is our mother in the order of grace.”

She is a key presence at Pentecost too, when “by her prayers [she] implor[es] the gift of the Spirit, who had already overshadowed her in the Annunciation.” And at the end of her earthly life she is “taken up body and soul into heavenly glory, and exalted by the Lord as Queen of the universe.”

Mary is therefore the model Christian and an example to follow both individually and together as Church:

“And so they turn their eyes to Mary who shines forth to the whole community […] as the model of virtues. [… M]editating on her and contemplating her in the light of the Word made man, the Church […] enters more intimately into the great mystery of the Incarnation and becomes more and more like her Spouse. For Mary, who […] unites in herself and re-echoes the greatest teachings of the faith […], calls the faithful to her Son and His sacrifice and to the love of the Father.”

This leads to emphasizing an important aspect of how Mary is seen by the Catholic Church:

“The maternal duty of Mary toward men in no wise obscures or diminishes [the] unique mediation of Christ […] For all the salvific influence of the Blessed Virgin on men originates, not from some inner necessity, but from the divine pleasure. It flows forth from the superabundance of the merits of Christ, rests on His mediation, depends entirely on it and draws all its power from it. In no way does it impede, but rather does it foster the immediate union of the faithful with Christ. [… T]he unique mediation of the Redeemer does not exclude but rather gives rise to a manifold cooperation which is but a sharing in this one source.”

In other words, being a Christian is about having a personal, immediate, direct relationship with Jesus and Mary helps it rather than being an intermediary, which is also true of the saints. Another point worth noticing in the above is how Mary’s role is presented as “divine pleasure” – it is not like she had to be given a role, like her role was a necessity, but that she has a role because it pleased God to invest her with it. Much like all of creation, which was not necessary either, Mary’s elevation in the history of salvation is a gratuitous, loving act of God too.

Finally, Lumen Gentium is also clear about how superficiality and credulity are to be avoided and how the focus needs to be on a simple love for and imitation of Mary:

“Let the faithful remember moreover that true devotion consists neither in sterile or transitory affection, nor in a certain vain credulity, but proceeds from true faith, by which we are led to know the excellence of the Mother of God, and we are moved to a filial love toward our mother and to the imitation of her virtues.”

As you can see from my blog posts on Lumen Gentium, I have found it to be a source of great encouragement and joy. Encouragement, because the treasures of Christianity are presented with clarity, born on wings both of faith and reason, and joy, because throughout this great presentation of who the Church is, the focus has been on the person of Jesus and on our mission to bring his love to all in freedom.³

¹ For posts on previous chapters, see here.
² If you are not a Catholic – welcome! 🙂 To get more out of what follows, you might want to take a look at a caveat I wrote for the first of my Vatican-II-themed posts here.
³ Given how long it has taken me to make my way through Dei Verbum, Lumen Gentium and Sacrosanctum Concilium (three of the four dogmatic constitutions of Vatican II), I have to revise my plan to read all of the Council’s documents during this Year of Faith. Instead, but still with plenty of challenge, I’ll try to just cover the fourth of the Council’s constitutions – Gaudium et Spes – next.

Lumen Gentium: in heaven and on earth

Continuing in the series on Vatican II, let me resume a reading of Lumen Gentium, where the last post looked at its sixth chapter, addressing the role of the religious (i.e., those who have taken vows of poverty, chastity and obedience). In its penultimate, seventh chapter, Lumen Gentium turns to the relationship between the Church on earth and the Church in heaven. As the full title of the chapter – “The eschatological nature of the pilgrim church and its union with the church in heaven” – sets out in a nutshell, the focus here is on the final purpose of the Church on earth (its eschatology) and its union with the Church in heaven. This may at first seem like just a bit of jiggery-pokery, and to be honest, when I read it for the first couple of times, I was at a loss to extract from it more than a sentence’s worth of essence. Repeated reflection, an overflowing measure of enlightenment from John Paul II,¹ and a personal experience I already shared here, have all lead me to what I’ll try to set out next.²

The best way to approach this chapter is to let John Paul II lead us to what is novel about it:³

“It can be said that until recently the Church’s catechesis and preaching centered upon an individual eschatology [… and] this pastoral style was profoundly personal: “Remember that at the end you will present yourself before God with your entire life. Before His judgment seat you will be responsible for all of your actions” […] The vision proposed by the Council, however, was that of an eschatology of the Church and of the world.”

Returning to Lumen Gentium, the opening paragraph of chapter 7 declares that:

“The Church, to which we are all called in Christ Jesus, and in which we acquire sanctity through the grace of God, will attain its full perfection only in the glory of heaven, when there will come the time of the restoration of all things.(cf. Acts 3:21) At that time the human race as well as the entire world, which is intimately related to man and attains to its end through him, will be perfectly reestablished in Christ. (cf. Ephesians 1:10)”

The first insight then is that the final purpose (eschatology) of the human person is not their individual, singular business, but fundamentally a property of a community – the Church. It is not I, alone, self-sufficiently and relying on my individual powers only, who sets out into the deep, but the I-we of the Church. Returning to a frequently emphasized point in previous parts of Lumen Gentium, here too the focus is on the Church being Jesus’ Body, where it is His “having been lifted up from the earth [that] has drawn all to Himself. (cf. John 12:32.)” Jesus draws all to himself and takes us (an all-inclusive “us”) with Him to our ultimate destiny.

The nature of the eschatology referred to extensively in this chapter merits greater reflection, in particular in terms of its timing. A naïve approach could lead us to thinking of it as referring to an event in some distant future (at the “end of time”), while what John Paul II puts forward is a very different perspective:

“[What the] Gospel teaches about God requires a certain change in focus with regard to eschatology. First of all, eschatology is not what will take place in the future, something happening only after earthly life is finished. Eschatology has already begun with the coming of Christ. The ultimate eschatological event was His redemptive Death and His Resurrection. This is the beginning of “a new heaven and a new earth” (cf. Revelation 21:1). For everyone, life beyond death is connected with the affirmation: “I believe in the resurrection of the body,” and then: “I believe in the forgiveness of sins and in life everlasting.” This is Christocentric eschatology.”

John Paul II again pivots what may have become a diffuse, deformed view and returns its focus to Jesus – it is His coming that has brought us into the final chapter of creation. As Lumen Gentium puts it:

“Already the final age of the world has come upon us and the renovation of the world is irrevocably decreed [… T]he promised restoration which we are awaiting has already begun in Christ, is carried forward in the mission of the Holy Spirit and through Him continues in the Church in which we learn the meaning of our terrestrial life through our faith, while we perform with hope in the future the work committed to us in this world by the Father, and thus work out our salvation.”

This then is the second insight: we are not just waiting around for the world to come to an end, instead we are in the “Last Days” and are active participants in the universe completing its function and returning to perfection in God. This is an understanding that neither lets us “check out” of the world’s affairs (instead obliging us to engage in them for the good of all), nor does it amount to being a millenarianist Doomsday cult (since Jesus himself assured the apostles that “of that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father alone.” (Matthew 24:36)).

While some of us have already completed their earthly journey and form the heavenly Church, others are still “exiles on earth,” proceeding along it “groan[ing] and travail[ing] in pain” (cf. Romans 8:19-23). The two communities are not separate entities though, and instead:

“form one Church and cleave together in Him. (cf. Ephesians 4:16) […] For by reason of the fact that those in heaven are more closely united with Christ, they establish the whole Church more firmly in holiness, lend nobility to the worship which the Church offers to God here on earth and in many ways contribute to its greater edification. (cf. 1 Corinthians 12:12-27)”

The Church in heaven and on earth is the one Mystical Body of Christ. As a consequence, “the pilgrim Church from the very first ages of the Christian religion has cultivated with great piety the memory of the dead [… and] has always believed that the apostles and Christ’s martyrs who had given the supreme witness of faith and charity by the shedding of their blood, are closely joined with us in Christ.” This then is the third insight – communion is not only among those of us who are alive on earth today and with Jesus whose body we form, but equally with those who have gone before us. While the death of loved ones is unquestionably and profoundly painful, it is not a separation, but, paradoxically, a coming closer “by reason of the fact that those in heaven are more closely united with Christ.” In many ways, the 14th Dalai Lama’s tweet from yesterday is also very well aligned with the concept of the Mystical Body that pervades Lumen Gentium as well as Sacrosanctum Concilium, when he says: “we develop care and concern by thinking of others not as ‘them’ but ‘us’”.

Not only is such union the case with those close to me, but with all, and in a particular way with the saints: “For just as Christian communion among wayfarers brings us closer to Christ, so our companionship with the saints joins us to Christ, from Whom as from its Fountain and Head issues every grace and the very life of the people of God.” Instead of being only examples, through their intimate union with Jesus, I personally am united with them too.

On the subject of saints, Lumen Gentium also cautions against superficial excesses and underlines the fact that the Christian life is always directed towards the Trinity:

“the authentic cult of the saints consists not so much in the multiplying of external acts, but rather in the greater intensity of our love, whereby, for our own greater good and that of the whole Church, we seek from the saints “example in their way of life, fellowship in their communion, and aid by their intercession.” [… O]ur communion with those in heaven […] in no way weakens, but conversely, more thoroughly enriches the […] worship we give to God the Father, through Christ, in the Spirit.”

Instead of being a bit of esoteric navel-gazing, the insights about how the Church is one across heaven and earth, with Jesus at its head and as its heart, firmly place the focus on the importance of community, on acting in the world for its good and on the persistence of relationships beyond death and with all.

¹ See the “Does “Eternal Life” exist?” chapter of his beautifully profound Crossing the Threshold of Hope.
² Yes, I am going to send you to the second paragraph of a previous post, in case you are not a Catholic and would like my perspective on how to read the rest of this post.
³ Emphasis preserved from original text.

Sacrosanctum Concilium: liturgy together

For reasons beyond the scope of this post I feel compelled to take up my quest to read the documents of Vatican II during this Year of Faith, by postponing and leapfrogging the last two chapters of Lumen Gentium and confronting the Council’s constitution on the liturgy: Sacrosanctum Concilium.¹ Here I have to admit that the opening chapters of the document were challenging in that their form had to be endured for the sake of getting to their content, but – like when reading The Name of the Rose, where Umberto Eco himself characterizes the first 100 pages as a mountain that is to be climbed to reach the rewards lying beyond it² – the core of the reform of the liturgy, as well as the very frank and practical steps defined for achieving it, are gems worth working for and I hope you too will take on the climb.

Before delving into the content of Sacrosanctum Concilium, it is worth noting that the concept of liturgy (λῃτουργία / leitourgia) predates Christianity and has its origins in ancient Greece where it referred to a public service – a work (ἔργο / ergon) of the people (λαός / Laos) – “whereby [a city-state’s] richest members […] financed the State with their personal wealth.” In the Christian context, this public service has since the first century AD had as its core what Jesus himself had “told His followers to do in memory of Him” – i.e., to nourish themselves by His body and blood, which he shared with the apostles at the Last Supper (cf. Luke 22:19). This Christian liturgy is a public service in that it strengthens and supports those who participate in it, by bringing them closer both to God and to each other.

The aim then of Sacrosanctum Concilium is to support Christian life by adapting “to the needs of our own times [that] which [is] subject to change; foster[ing] whatever can promote union among all who believe in Christ; strengthen[ing] whatever can help to call the whole of mankind into the […] Church.” The result is a desire to “reform and promote the liturgy,” where the changes introduced in it are a consequence of the Church “be[ing] both human and divine, visible and yet invisibly equipped, eager to act and yet intent on contemplation, present in this world and yet not at home in it.”

As in the other Vatican II documents, the starting point here too is the Trinity, where:

“[God] sent His Son, the Word made flesh, anointed by the Holy Spirit, to preach the gospel to the poor, to heal the contrite of heart, to be a “bodily and spiritual medicine”, the Mediator between God and man. […] Therefore in Christ “the perfect achievement of our reconciliation came forth, and the fullness of divine worship was given to us”. […] Thus by baptism men are plunged into the paschal mystery of Christ: they die with Him, are buried with Him, and rise with Him. [Thus, since its beginning] the Church has never failed to come together to celebrate the paschal mystery: reading those things “which were in all the scriptures concerning him” (Luke 24:27) [and] celebrating the eucharist in which “the victory and triumph of his death are again made present”.”

In the liturgy, there is a particular, personal presence of Jesus, who

“is always present in His Church, especially in her liturgical celebrations. He is present in the sacrifice of the Mass, not only in the person of His minister, “the same now offering, through the ministry of priests, who formerly offered himself on the cross”, but especially under the Eucharistic species. […] He is present in the sacraments, so that when a man baptizes it is really Christ Himself who baptizes. He is present in His word, since it is He Himself who speaks when the holy scriptures are read in the Church. He is present, lastly, when the Church prays and sings, for He promised: “Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them” (Matthew 18:20).”

In other words, the liturgy is a personal encounter with Jesus, which demands one’s full and active participation both individually and as a community. Sacrosanctum Concilium’s objective is to reform the liturgy as it was before Vatican II, since:

“the liturgy is made up of immutable elements divinely instituted, and of elements subject to change. These not only may but ought to be changed with the passage of time if they have suffered from the intrusion of anything out of harmony with the inner nature of the liturgy or have become unsuited to it. In this restoration, both texts and rites should be drawn up so that they express more clearly the holy things which they signify; the Christian people, so far as possible, should be enabled to understand them with ease and to take part in them fully, actively, and as befits a community.”

The first principle in such a restoration is to foster “warm and living love for scripture,” which “is of the greatest importance in the celebration of the liturgy.” The second is that “[liturgical services] are celebrations of the Church, which is the “sacrament of unity,” [of] the holy people united.” Third, while “the sacred liturgy is above all things the worship of the divine Majesty, it likewise contains much instruction for the faithful. For in the liturgy God speaks to His people and Christ is still proclaiming His gospel. And the people reply to God both by song and prayer. […] The rites should [therefore] be distinguished by a noble simplicity; they should be short, clear, and unencumbered by useless repetitions; they should be within the people’s powers of comprehension, and normally should not require much explanation.”

Guided by the above principles, the use of mother tongues (which were not in liturgical use before Vatican II) in addition to Latin is encouraged, “in the first place [for] the readings and directives, and [for] some of the prayers and chants.” Sacrosanctum Concilium goes much further though, in an effort to bring the liturgy close to all of its participants and allow for full participation as a community:

“Even in the liturgy, the Church has no wish to impose a rigid uniformity in matters which do not implicate the faith or the good of the whole community; rather does she respect and foster the genius and talents of the various races and peoples. Anything in these peoples’ way of life which is not indissolubly bound up with superstition and error she studies with sympathy and, if possible, preserves intact. Sometimes in fact she admits such things into the liturgy itself, so long as they harmonize with its true and authentic spirit. […] In some places and circumstances, however, an even more radical adaptation of the liturgy is needed. […] The competent territorial ecclesiastical authority […], must, in this matter, carefully and prudently consider which elements from the traditions and culture of individual peoples might appropriately be admitted into divine worship. Adaptations which are judged to be useful or necessary should then be submitted to the Apostolic See, by whose consent they may be introduced. To ensure that adaptations may be made with all the circumspection which they demand, the Apostolic See will grant power to this same territorial ecclesiastical authority to permit and to direct […] the necessary preliminary experiments over a determined period of time among certain groups suited for the purpose.”

The above, to me, is the first of the real eye-openers about Sacrosanctum Concilium in that is seems to go way beyond what I see in the Church today. Here there is a clear intention to recognize what is good in various cultures and make it part of the public service that is the liturgy. This is not the cultural imperialism that the Church is often criticized for, but a readiness to seek out and recognize value wherever it is present, so that communities can bring their treasures to the table at which the Last Supper is celebrated, instead of being observers at a foreign spectacle. Neither is it recalcitrant adherence to established forms or wanton novelty for its own sake, but a process that involves controlled “experiments” – the last concept I expected to see in an official Church document.

To further make them accessible to all and welcoming of participation,

“the rites are to be simplified, due care being taken to preserve their substance; elements which, with the passage of time, came to be duplicated, or were added with but little advantage, are now to be discarded; other elements which have suffered injury through accidents of history are now to be restored to the vigor which they had in the days of the holy Fathers. […] Especially on Sundays […] there is to be restored, after the Gospel and the homily, […] “the prayer of the faithful.” By this prayer, in which the people are to take part, intercession will be made for holy Church, for the civil authorities, for those oppressed by various needs, for all mankind, and for the salvation of the entire world.”

These are changes that not only invite participation by a community, but do so in a way where it faces both Jesus and the world. Clear efforts are also made here to involve the laity in new ways where “provision [are to] be made [so] that some sacramentals […] may be administered by qualified lay persons.”

In amongst the extensive list of specific changes introduced by Sacrosanctum Concilium, there are also several whose directness and verging on irony were a treat to read in a document of this kind: “The rite for the baptism of infants is to be revised, and it should be adapted to the circumstance that those to be baptized are, in fact, infants.” [Duh! :)], “The prayer for the bride, [is to be] amended to remind both spouses of their equal obligation to remain faithful to each other.” and “The accounts of martyrdom or the lives of the saints are to accord with the facts of history.” were definitely among my favorites.

Finally, the reform of the liturgy is also extended to the music and visual art used to support and enhance it, with a strong emphasis on simplicity and service:

“[B]ishops and other pastors of souls must be at pains to ensure that, whenever the [liturgy] is to be celebrated with song, the whole body of the faithful may be able to contribute that active participation which is rightly theirs. […] In certain parts of the world […] there are peoples who have their own musical traditions, and these play a great part in their religious and social life. For this reason due importance is to be attached to their music, and a suitable place is to be given to it, not only in forming their attitude toward religion, but also in adapting worship to their native genius. Therefore, when missionaries are being given training in music, every effort should be made to see that they become competent in promoting the traditional music of these peoples, both in schools and in sacred services.

The Church has not adopted any particular style of art as her very own; she has admitted styles from every period according to the natural talents and circumstances of peoples, and the needs of the various rites. Thus, in the course of the centuries, she has brought into being a treasury of art which must be very carefully preserved. The art of our own days, coming from every race and region, shall also be given free scope in the Church, provided that it adorns the sacred buildings and holy rites with due reverence and honor. [… Bishops], by the encouragement and favor they show to art which is truly sacred, should strive after noble beauty rather than mere sumptuous display. […] Let bishops carefully remove […] those works of artists which […] lack artistic worth, [or display] mediocrity and pretense. […] And when churches are to be built, let great care be taken that they be suitable for the celebration of liturgical services and for the active participation of the faithful.”

Reading through the entirety of Sacrosanctum Concilium, what stuck in my mind was how apt the term “restoration” was for what its principles and instructions amount to. It is a restoration of the simplicity and immediacy of being in Jesus’ presence that the apostles and the Early Church must have experienced. It is a de-cluttering, a removal of exaggeration and deformation, and a consistent and all-pervasive re-focusing on the liturgy being “performed by the Mystical Body of Jesus Christ, that is, by the Head and His members.” The changes to the structure and extent of the liturgy, the use of the congregation’s mother tongue and the principles guiding the use of music and art all serve a single purpose: to make the liturgy be a knowing, active, living expression of a community, gathered around the one table in the Upper Room, with Jesus at it’s head.

¹ As is now de rigueur here for posts that verge on or fully wade into the theologically technical, please, consider reading paragraph two of the following post as a caveat, if you are not a Catholic.
² “After reading the manuscript, my friends and editors suggested I abbreviate the first hundred pages, which they found very difficult.and demanding. Without thinking twice, I refused, because, as I insisted, if somebody wanted to enter the abbey and live there for seven days, he had to accept the abbey’s own pace. If he could not. he would never manage to read the whole book. Therefore those first hundred pages are like a penance or an initiation, and if someone does not like them, so much the worse for him. He can stay at the foot of the hill.” (Umberto Eco, Reflections on “The Name of the Rose”)

Atheists: adversaries, or brothers?

It is no secret that I have a great deal of respect for my atheist and agnostic friends and I feel like I have learned a lot from them about matters that are of profound value to me as a Christian. With Cardinal Ravasi I can also say that I too have absolutely no interest in converting them (or anyone else for that matter). At the same time I am aware of this attitude not having been the mainstream position of the Church for a long time (although there have always been those who have shared it – many of whom were saints) and that atheism is seen by some (many?) in the Church as a problem even today.

It is against this background that I was pleased to hear voices consonant with mine while reading two great books: On Heaven and Earth (by Cardinal Bergoglio – now Pope Francis – and Rabbi – and biophysicist! – Abraham Skorka, mentioned here before) and Colloqui (by Fr. Pasquale Foresi – one of the co-founders of the Focolare Movement).

Here Francis has the following to say:¹

“When I meet atheist persons, I share with them human questions […] which are such rich material for sharing and working on together that they can easily lead to mutual and complementary enrichment. As a believer I know these riches are a gift from God[, but] instead of proselytizing, I respect atheists and I present myself the way I am. I have nothing to hide and I would not say that their life is condemned, because I am convinced that I have no right to judge their honesty. […] We have to be coherent with the message we receive from the Bible: all men and women are made in the image of God, whether they are believers or not.”

Later in the book, this attitude is also reinforced by Rabbi Skorka, saying that “we are all joined by the links of brotherhood.” While the position is, to my mind, positive – we are all brothers and sisters irrespective of our beliefs and there are great riches to be shared with each other in openness, a point worth elaborating on are the positions that Pope Francis rejects here – i.e., proselytism and condemnation.

Why these are novelties in the Catholic Church is addressed in Fr. Foresi’s book, which I happened to read at the same time :). There he points to the great changes that have been confirmed by the Second Vatican Council, a key point of which was an increased emphasis on and respect for following one’s conscience.² Among others, this shift also legitimized pacifist positions held by prominent Christians during the last century’s World Wars. E.g., see the Catholic, Italian MP Igino Giordani – now in the process of being considered for sainthood, who championed a bill to allow for conscientious objectors to abstain from military service – incidentally in collaboration with atheist Communists (a great rarity during the first half of the 20th century).

It was on the back of this rediscovery of the importance of conscience that the honesty of atheist beliefs was contemplated and while the Church certainly has a position different from atheism, it stated clearly in the Gaudium et Spes constitution of the Second Vatican Council that,

“motivated by love for all men, [the Church] believes [that the] questions [raised by atheism] ought to be examined seriously and more profoundly. [… T]he Church sincerely professes that all men, believers and unbelievers alike, ought to work for the rightful betterment of this world in which all alike live; such an ideal cannot be realized, however, apart from sincere and prudent dialogue. Hence the Church protests against the distinction which some state authorities make between believers and unbelievers, with prejudice to the fundamental rights of the human person.” (Gaudium et Spes, 21)

Fr. Foresi explains that prior to Vatican II it was generally thought that “one couldn’t be an atheist in good faith, and that it was “impossible” for them to be saved.” This has all changed though, so that now there are not only individuals in the Church, who are keen to build relationships with their atheist friends, but it is the Church’s official teaching that the dignity of believers and non-believers alike be protected and valued.

And there is more. In his book, Fr. Foresi recounts how the Focolare Movement, founded by Chiara Lubich, has gone a step further and has done so with the Church’s formal approval. The Focolare Movement is an organization that promotes unity and universal brotherhood among all and even though it started in the Catholic Church during the Second World War, it also has members from other Christian churches and communities and from other religions. And it also counts agnostics or atheists among its members. While links with non-Catholics and atheists were at first informal, as the Focolare Movement was gaining official recognition by the Catholic Church, it also asked for its non-Catholic members to be officially recognized as such – a request eventually granted by the Vatican.

Why am I saying all this? Do I care so much about being “official”? No, not for its own sake, but I believe that it is an indication of how seriously these questions are taken by the Church and how it is not only its declared intention to be open to atheists but also something it approves formally.

¹ Since I have the original book in Spanish, the English text is my rough translation.
² For a more detailed discussion of this topic see a previous post.

Man and Woman: Nakedness

John Paul II opens the 11th talk on the Theology of the Body¹ by reflecting on the previous ten. He highlights the profile of the human person and the male-female union presented there as always being “at the root of every human experience. […T]hey are so interwoven with the ordinary things of life that we generally do not realize their extraordinary character. [… They show] the absolute originality of what the male-female human being is inasmuch as he or she is human, that is, also through the body.”

The aspect of Genesis that is taken under the microscope in talks 11-13 is the following sentence: “Now both were naked, the man and his wife, but they did not feel shame.” (2:25), which is placed alongside the insights about “man’s original solitude and original unity” in importance. Original nakedness in the absence of shame evidences innocence, and shows the original “reciprocal experience of the body, that is, the man’s experience of the femininity that reveals itself in the nakedness of the body and, reciprocally, the analogous experience of masculinity by the woman.” This also makes shame the boundary experience between the original human state and that after the fall, also since shame is used in later passages to highlight how reality has altered after the fall: “Then the eyes of both were opened, and they realized that they were naked; they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loincloths.” (Genesis 3:7).²

The next challenge in understanding the fullness of original nakedness is to attempt its reconstruction by first trying to understand shame. Here John Paul II offers the following description, given the context already set up in the previous chapters: “In the experience of shame, the human being experiences fear in the face of the “second I” (thus, for example, woman before man), and this is substantially fear for ones own “I.”” What then is the meaning of its absence from the original human state? Here John Paul II argues that such a question is a misunderstanding of the Genesis account – it is not like there was a lack of shame before the fall, but that shame was inapplicable, which “indicate[s] a particular fullness of consciousness and experience, above all the fullness of understanding the meaning of the body connected with the fact that “they were naked.”” To understand this “fullness of consciousness” we need to pan out and remember how original solitude (separateness from the rest of creation) is overcome by being created as man and woman (the other being another “I”). This overcoming of solitude occurs “through the body [… which is the] direct and visible source of [the] experience that effectively establishes their unity.” Therefore “the man and the woman were originally given to each other precisely according to this truth inasmuch as “they were naked”” also as evidenced by the “perception of the senses.”

At this point John Paul II argues that while the above external view of nakedness is essential and not to be discounted, it is necessary to look at its inner dimension as well. “[T]hrough its own visibility, the body manifests man and, in manifesting him, acts as an intermediary that allows man and woman, from the beginning, to communicate with each other.” But what is this interior nakedness that the body manifests? Here John Paul II’s answer is yet another stunner:

“To this fullness of “exterior” perception, expressed by physical nakedness, corresponds the “interior” fullness of the vision of man in God, that is, according to the measure of the “image of God” (see Genesis 1:27). According to this measure, man “is” truly naked (“they were naked”), even before becoming aware of it (see Genesis 3:7–10).”

Before the fall man internally sees (understands!) woman as she was created in God and woman sees man again as created in God, which makes shame inapplicable. Pure genius! And he continues:

“[Man] has […] a share in the vision of the Creator himself — in that vision about which the account of Genesis 1 speaks several times, “God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good” (Genesis 1:31). “Nakedness” signifies the original good of the divine vision. It signifies the whole simplicity and fullness of this vision, which shows the “pure” value of man as male and female, the “pure” value of the body and of [its] sex.”

A consequence of this state is that it “does not contain an inner break and antithesis between what is spiritual and what is sensible. […] They see and know each other, in fact, with all the peace of the interior gaze, which creates precisely the fullness of the intimacy of persons.” Finally, John Paul II concludes by summing up the original meaning of nakedness in that it “corresponds to the simplicity and fullness of vision in which [man’s and woman’s] understanding of the meaning of the body is born from the very heart, as it were, of their community-communion. We will call this meaning “spousal.”” This brings us to the end of his analysis of man and woman “from the beginning,” which has taken us up to the threshold of the fall. The next part of the book then looks at how man and woman are created as a gift and takes the “spousal” relationship as its point of departure.

I have to say that, beyond the content for which my enthusiasm should be explicit from the above, I continue to be hugely impressed with John Paul II’s method, behind which I feel a profound trust in God and in Scripture containing wisdom. His efforts to access it are, to my mind, a perfect embodiment (pardon the pun) of the critical, rational approach set out in Vatican II’s Dei Verbum, where faith and trust fuel the quest and where reason and analysis are its means. An aspect of the book that I haven’t mentioned so far are also its superb footnotes, which span sources as diverse as C. G. Jung, Shakespeare, Nietzsche, Marx and Freud, as well as a rich body of biblical scholarly and theological literature (including the young Ratzinger). Far from being carried out in isolation, John Paul II’s thought is lucidly aware of the intellectual context of his time and references the insights of those in and beyond the Church alike.

¹ If you are interested in this topic, consider taking a look of the first two posts where I cover earlier chapters first here and then here and getting the book they are based on: Man and Woman He Created Them.
² John Paul II is very careful throughout these talks to be clear about the fact that the Genesis account is a myth, which “does not refer to fictitious-fabulous content, but simply to an archaic way of expressing a deeper content.” So, references to the fall and to humanity before and after it are not to be read historically, but rather as means of conceiving of different aspects of human anthropology, psychology and ontology.

Lumen Gentium: The Religious

In an effort to get at least to the end of the second of the Vatican II documents that I would like to read during this Year of Faith, let me now turn to chapter six of Lumen Gentium, which talks about the religious. After its first two chapters set out who the church is and how it lives, the next pair present its hierarchy and laity and chapter five speaks about a universal call to holiness, this chapter is about, what in contemporary organizations would be called, a horizontal group.¹

The logic of presenting the religious after the universal call to holiness in chapter five is very clear in that the religious take a specific commitment to the evangelical counsels of “chastity dedicated to God, poverty and obedience” that are presented to all the Church as means for attaining holiness. The distinguishing feature of the religious is that they “bind themselves to the three aforesaid counsels either by vows, or by other sacred bonds, which are like vows in their purpose.” In this context, the Church’s hierarchy has the role of “interpreting these evangelical counsels, of regulating their practice and finally to build on them stable forms of living.” These “forms of living” include “community life, as well as various religious families,” yet:

“the religious state of life is not an intermediate state between the clerical and lay states. But, rather, the faithful of Christ are called by God from both these states of life so that they might enjoy this particular gift in the life of the Church.”

The purpose of the vows that the religious profess is “to free [themselves] from those obstacles, which might draw [them] away from the fervor of charity and the perfection of divine worship.” As a result, “[t]he evangelical counsels […] lead to charity [and] join their followers to the Church and its mystery in a special way. [… T]he spiritual life of [the religious] should then be devoted to the welfare of the whole Church.” In other words, the vows of chastity, obedience and poverty are aids to living with greater love for the good of the whole Church.

A particularly beautiful insight is shared next: “[the] purpose [of the religious state] is to free its members from earthly cares, [which] more fully manifests to all believers the presence of heavenly goods already possessed here below. […] Christ proposed to His disciples this form of life, which He, as the Son of God, accepted in entering this world to do the will of the Father.” Instead of being directed at the benefit only of the religious, their withdrawal from some aspects of natural life serves the purpose of highlighting a foretaste of heaven that is to be had already here and now. I believe this foretaste is the love that they show the Church and the world, and based on the religious I know, this is certainly something many of them radiate! Just to avoid any misunderstanding, I don’t believe the religious have a monopoly on accessing the “heavenly goods already possessed here below” – we can all do so (and this is not even restricted only to Christians or other people of faith), but it is the religious who give them particular visibility due to their relinquishing certain aspects of everyday life.

As a consequence of their “duty […] to care for the People of God,” the hierarchy “regulate the practice of the evangelical counsels by law,” just like they do the practice of the priesthood and marriage. The impetus are always “rules presented by outstanding men and women” (such as St. Francis, St. Benedict, Bl. Mother Teresa, Chiara Lubich, etc.), which the hierarchy then receives “following with docility the prompting of the Holy Spirit” and, after possible adjustments, approves. The resulting religious orders, communities or movements (called “institutes of perfection”) can then either be under the direct authority of the pope or of a local bishop, to whom they owe obedience. Incorporated in the Church in this way, the religious show Jesus “to believers and non-believers alike[, … portraying Him] in contemplation on the mountain, in His proclamation of the kingdom of God to the multitudes, in His healing of the sick and maimed, in His work of converting sinners to a better life, in His solicitude for youth and His goodness to all men, always obedient to the will of the Father who sent Him.”

To conclude its brief presentation of the religious, Lumen Gentium takes care to be clear about the nature of the renunciation and withdrawal that the evangelical counsels entail:

“Let no one think that religious have become strangers to their fellowmen or useless citizens of this earthly city by their consecration. For even though it sometimes happens that religious do not directly mingle with their contemporaries, yet in a more profound sense these same religious are united with them in the heart of Christ and spiritually cooperate with them.”

Finally, the religious are summed up as “Brothers and Sisters, who in monasteries, or in schools and hospitals, or in the missions, adorn the Bride of Christ by their unswerving and humble faithfulness in their chosen consecration and render generous services of all kinds to mankind.” Again the emphasis is on service to all and on a transmission of Jesus’ love to them, which has been a focus throughout the presentation of the hierarchy and laity in previous chapters too. From personal experience, I am deeply grateful for the gifts I have received thanks to those “Brothers and Sisters” of mine who have bound themselves to the evangelical counsels and who are shining beacons of God’s love.

¹ If you have read previous “Lumen Gentium” posts on this blog, you will be familiar with my pointing to a caveat for non-Catholic readers, in paragraph 2 of this post.

Lumen Gentium: The Call to Holiness

Following presentations of the Church’s purpose, life, hierarchy and laity, Lumen Gentium¹ turns to the call to holiness that Jesus addresses to “each and everyone of His disciples of every condition” by inviting them to “be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5:48). This holiness “is expressed in many ways in individuals, who in their walk of life, tend toward the perfection of charity, thus causing the edification of others.”

While holiness is a grace – a gift from God – that Christians receive in baptism, they need to “hold on to and complete [it] in their lives” – again thanks to grace – by having a “heart of mercy, kindness, humility, meekness, patience” (Colossians 3:12). The result then is not something restricted to Christians, but instead is the promotion of “a more human manner of living […] in this earthly society.” More specifically, the instructions to Christians are the following:

“They must follow in His footsteps and conform themselves to His image seeking the will of the Father in all things. They must devote themselves with all their being to the glory of God and the service of their neighbor. In this way, the holiness of the People of God will grow into an abundant harvest of good, as is admirably shown by the life of so many saints in Church history.”

Holiness thus is an imitation of Jesus, a seeking to do the Father’s will (as Jesus did) and a service to all of humanity, as demonstrated by the saints. Holiness is to “follow the poor Christ, the humble and cross-bearing Christ in order to be worthy of being sharers in His glory.”

Bishops, by the sacramental grace they have received, “are given the courage necessary to lay down their lives for their sheep, and the ability of promoting greater holiness in the Church by their daily example.” Priests, are called to “the holiness of humble and hidden service” and “should grow daily in their love of God and their neighbor by the exercise of their office through Christ.” Deacons are called to “stand before men as personifications of goodness and friends of God.” The path to holiness for married couples and parents is “by faithful love” through which they “sustain one another in grace throughout the entire length of their lives” and lead their children to the practice of the evangelical virtues (poverty, chastity, obedience). Work too is a path to holiness by which the Christian “should raise all of society, and even creation itself, to a better mode of existence.” “Poverty, infirmity and sickness” as well as “hardships or […] suffer[ing] persecution for justice sake” also result in being “united with the suffering Christ.” A shared prerequisite for all is “to receive all things with faith from the hand of their heavenly Father and […] cooperate with the divine will.”

While it might seem from the above that those in different circumstances and positions in the Church have different paths to holiness, Lumen Gentium emphasizes both that “holiness is one” and that “God is love, and he who abides in love, abides in God and God in Him” (1 John 4:16). This primacy of love, which is a gift from the Holy Spirit, is the means “by which we love God above all things and our neighbor because of God.” This gift of love is nourished by listening to the Word of God, accepting His Will, participating in the Eucharist and the Liturgy, “prayer, self-abnegation, lively fraternal service and the constant exercise of all the virtues.” It is love again that “rules over all the means of attaining holiness and gives life to these same means.” In summary, “[i]t is the love of God and the love of one’s neighbor which points out the true disciple of Christ.”

Given the above view of love, which is a gift from God, nourished by the sacraments, and which is then directed back at God, also through one’s neighbor, the supreme manifestation of love is “lay[ing] down [ones] life for Christ and His brothers” – martyrdom.

“By martyrdom a disciple is transformed into an image of his Master by freely accepting death for the salvation of the world—as well as his conformity to Christ in the shedding of his blood. Though few are presented such an opportunity, nevertheless all must be prepared to confess Christ before men. They must be prepared to make this profession of faith even in the midst of persecutions, which will never be lacking to the Church, in following the way of the cross.”

Next, celibacy is singled out, which is a “grace given by the Father to certain souls, whereby they may devote themselves to God alone the more easily, due to an undivided heart.” The free choice of poverty and obedience are also praised as means for attaining holiness. “Th[ese are] beyond the measure of the commandments, but are done in order to become more fully like the [poor and] obedient Christ.” Finally, the following exhortation is made to aid all in their seeking of holiness, which is not only an invitation but an obligation for every Christian:

“Let neither the use of the things of this world nor attachment to riches, which is against the spirit of evangelical poverty, hinder them in their quest for perfect love. Let them heed the admonition of the Apostle [Paul – cf. 1 Corinthians 7:31] to those who use this world; let them not come to terms with this world; for this world, as we see it, is passing away.”

The key takeaways for me from this short chapter in Lumen Gentium are the underlining of the oneness and universality of holiness, the obligation for all Christians to seek it and its synonymity with love. A love that is directed at God through one’s neighbors, that leads to God through the selfless giving of oneself to others. There are details here about different aspects to emphasis for different roles within the Church and different means that the Church offers its members in aid of holiness, but the core point here is that holiness is about imitating Jesus, who loved us so much that he even gave his life for us. Holiness is a path that leads from every ordinary moment to the extraordinary, total giving of oneself out of love.

¹ If you are not a Catholic, you might like to read the caveat in paragraph two of this post, where I propose a way for you to approach this post in which I attempt to summarize what I understand the Catholic Church as addressing to its members.

Lumen Gentium: The Laity

Chapter 4 of Lumen Gentium brings us to a presentation of the role of the laity – i.e., “all the faithful except those in holy orders [discussed at length in chapter 3] and those in the state of religious life [to be covered in detail later].” Like in previous posts about Vatican II documents, if you are not a Catholic, I would again encourage you to take a look at paragraph two of my post on Dei Verbum, where I propose an approach that might make reading the following more accessible.

The chapter on the laity starts with, and is run through by, repeated emphases on the unity and singularity of purpose of the whole Church, against the background of which any distinctions are to be read: “Everything that has been said [about] the People of God is intended for the laity, religious and clergy alike. [… The lay] faithful are by baptism made one body with Christ and are constituted among the People of God; they are in their own way made sharers in the priestly, prophetical, and kingly functions of Christ.” The specific aspect of the laity os that they “live in the ordinary circumstances of family and social life […] They are called there by God that by exercising their proper function and led by the spirit of the Gospel they may work for the sanctification of the world from within as a leaven.” The key here to me is that the laity is not some sort of “other” or “miscellaneous” category, but that its members are “called there by God” – being a lay person can be a calling like being a member of the church’s hierarchy or of a religious order.

The equality of the People of God (i.e., laity, clergy and religious all together) is then stated very explicitly:

“[T]he chosen People of God is one: “one Lord, one faith, one baptism”; sharing a common dignity as members from their regeneration in Christ, having the same filial grace and the same vocation to perfection; possessing in common one salvation, one hope and one undivided charity. There is, therefore, in Christ and in the Church no inequality on the basis of race or nationality, social condition or sex, because “there is neither Jew nor Greek: there is neither bond nor free: there is neither male nor female. For you are all ‘one’ in Christ Jesus”.”

Furthermore this equality of dignity extends not only across natural but also across spiritual categories: “And if by the will of Christ some are made teachers, pastors and dispensers of mysteries on behalf of others, yet all share a true equality with regard to the dignity and to the activity common to all the faithful for the building up of the Body of Christ.” A source for this equality can also be found in the mutual interdependence of the clergy and laity: “[P]astors and the other faithful are bound to each other by a mutual need. Pastors of the Church, following the example of the Lord, should minister to one another and to the other faithful. These in their turn should enthusiastically lend their joint assistance to their pastors and teachers.” This is further (and to my mind beautifully!) underlined as follows:

“Therefore, from divine choice the laity have Christ for their [brother] who though He is the Lord of all, came not to be served but to serve. They also have for their brothers those in the sacred ministry who by teaching, by sanctifying and by ruling with the authority of Christ feed the family of God so that the new commandment of charity may be fulfilled by all.”

St. Augustine then puts the difference between his being a Christian and a bishop in particularly clear terms: “What I am for you terrifies me; what I am with you consoles me. For you I am a bishop; but with you I am a Christian. The former is a duty; the latter a grace. The former is a danger; the latter, salvation.” Again it is the saints, whose words illuminate and breathe a heightened sense of life into the Church’s formal teaching.

Next, Lumen Gentium elaborates on the apostolic and prophetic roles of the laity and there is a clear sense here even just from the language that this is a blueprint for the future (e.g., by many sentences having the form of “let the laity …”), rather than a re-statement of well-established teaching, as is the case in some of the earlier parts of this document.

The apostolic role of the laity (to which they are commissioned “[t]hrough their baptism and confirmation”) is a call “to [making] the Church present and operative in those places and circumstances where only through them can it become the salt of the earth.” The apostolate of the laity (i.e., it’s spreading of the Gospel) is not restricted only to such conditions where the hierarchy would be less effective or appropriate. Instead, it “can also be called in various ways to a more direct form of cooperation in the apostolate of the Hierarchy. This was the way certain men and women assisted Paul the Apostle in the Gospel. […] Further, they have the capacity to assume from the Hierarchy certain ecclesiastical functions.” The model here is very much one of co-operation rather than exclusive leadership by the hierarchy. This does not in any way diminish the leadership of the hierarchy, but, to my mind, it expresses a desire to reflect the emphasis on equality in the preceding paragraphs. It shows a desire for spreading of the Gospel in a way where the talents of all are put to good use.

The way the laity spread the Gospel, “by a living testimony as well as by the spoken word, takes on a specific quality and a special force in that it is carried out in the ordinary surroundings of the world. […] For all their works, prayers and apostolic endeavors, their ordinary married and family life, their daily occupations, their physical and mental relaxation, if carried out in the Spirit, and even the hardships of life, if patiently borne—all these become “spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ”.” What strikes me as key here is that a lay person is called to follow Jesus 24/7 and that even when they rest, that is an opportunity to bear witness to God’s love for all. This is very explicitly the opposite of the unhealthy compartmentalization that can creep into anyone’s life, where their Christianity is manifest only in some contexts but not in all. Finally, the part on the laity’s apostolic role concludes with the profound statement that “the laity consecrate the world itself to God.”

Turning to the prophetic aspect, Lumen Gentium states that “Christ […] continually fulfills His prophetic office […] not only through the hierarchy who teach in His name and with His authority, but also through the laity whom He made His witnesses and to whom He gave understanding of the faith (sensu fidei).” Here I was immediately struck by the attribution of a rational and reflexive function to the laity, which again does not detract from the authority of the hierarchy, but which places the lay person in a position of intellectual engagement rather than blind obedience. This is again underlined by the exhortation to “let the laity devotedly strive to acquire a more profound grasp of revealed truth, and let them insistently beg of God the gift of wisdom.”

Then comes a bit of a surprise to me:

“In connection with the prophetic function is that state of life which is sanctified by a special sacrament […], namely, married and family life. […] In such a home husbands and wives find their proper vocation in being witnesses of the faith and love of Christ to one another and to their children. The Christian family loudly proclaims both the present virtues of the Kingdom of God and the hope of a blessed life to come. […] They must assist each other to live holier lives even in their daily occupations. In this way the world may be permeated by the spirit of Christ and it may more effectively fulfill its purpose in justice, charity and peace. The laity have the principal role in the overall fulfillment of this duty.”

This places the sacrament of marriage in a position not only of a commitment of the spouses to each other and to their children – for their individual good, but also makes it a foretaste of things to come and a source from which Jesus’ love is to be brought to the whole world so that “justice, charity and peace” may be brought about. Such projection into the world has its challenges though and the laity is reminded that:

“[T]he faithful should learn how to distinguish carefully between those rights and duties which are theirs as members of the Church, and those which they have as members of human society. Let them strive to reconcile the two, remembering that in every temporal affair they must be guided by a Christian conscience, since even in secular business there is no human activity which can be withdrawn from God’s dominion.”

The relationship of the laity and the hierarchy is then introduced as follows:

“The laity […] should openly reveal to [the hierarchy] their needs and desires with that freedom and confidence which is fitting for children of God and brothers in Christ. They are, by reason of the knowledge, competence or outstanding ability which they may enjoy, permitted and sometimes even obliged to express their opinion on those things which concern the good of the Church.”

This again underlines the need for active, rational participation of the laity in the life of the Church and even the obligation to escalate concerns to its leadership, but it also requires that “[t]he laity [… then] accept in Christian obedience decisions of their spiritual shepherds, since they are representatives of Christ as well as teachers and rulers in the Church.”

In summary, “[e]ach individual layman must stand before the world as a witness to the resurrection and life of the Lord Jesus and a symbol of the living God. All the laity as a community and each one according to his ability must nourish the world with spiritual fruits. They must diffuse in the world that spirit which animates the poor, the meek, the peace makers—whom the Lord in the Gospel proclaimed as blessed.”

As a lay person I found this part of Lumen Gentium particularly encouraging as it shows very clearly that in Vatican II the hierarchy of the Church (since all of these documents’ authors were part of it!) calls for greater participation by all members of the Church in its life. The hierarchy does not shirk away from its responsibilities (and I don’t believe it should), but it makes it clear that it desires dialogue among equals. Even though a bishop is placed at the head of his local church, he is the brother of all the faithful he leads and this brotherhood, pioneered by Jesus himself outranks any hierarchical distinctions. I know full well that this is often not what happens even today – 50 years after Vatical II, but I am pleased to see at least that this is the blueprint, even if the boat is still under construction.

Lumen Gentium: On Hierarchical Structure

Following the coverage of chapters one and two of Lumen Gentium, let me now take a look at chapter three, which deals with the Church’s hierarchy, before then turning to the laity in chapter four. As before, if you are not a Catholic, I’d like to encourage you to read paragraph two of my post on Dei Verbum, the first of the sixteen Vatican II documents I would like to try and read during this Year of Faith.

So, after chapter one sketched out what the purpose of the Church is and chapter two covered how the “priestly community” that is the Church lives and relates to the rest of humanity, we now proceed to consider the Church’s hierarchy.

The starting point here (as everywhere else in Lumen Gentium) is Jesus who “sent forth the apostles as He Himself had been sent by the Father; and He willed that their successors, namely the bishops, should be shepherds in His Church,” the purpose of their pastoral function being to “serve their brethren, so that [… they] may arrive at salvation[, …] freely and in an orderly way.” To ensure that the bishops themselves, who serve the rest of the People of God, are “one and undivided, He placed Blessed Peter over the other apostles, and instituted in him a permanent and visible source and foundation of unity of faith and communion.”

In the Early Church, “the apostles, by preaching the Gospel everywhere, and it being accepted by their hearers under the influence of the Holy Spirit, gather together the universal Church.” Since the Gospel that the apostles taught is meant for all time, their mission too needs to persist, which is why the apostles appointed successors. “They passed on to [them …], as it were, in the form of a testament, the duty of confirming and finishing the work begun by themselves” and called them to appoint their successors in turn. “Through those who were appointed bishops by the apostles, and through their successors down in our own time, the apostolic tradition is manifested and preserved.”

“Bishops, therefore, with their helpers, the priests and deacons, […] presid[e] in place of God over the flock, whose shepherds they are, as teachers for doctrine, priests for sacred worship, and ministers for governing. […] In the bishops, therefore, for whom priests are assistants, [… Jesus], is present in the midst of those who believe.” The “outpouring of the Holy Spirit” that the apostles received from Jesus was “passed on […] to their helpers by the imposition of hands, and it has been transmitted down to us in Episcopal consecration.” In addition to sanctifying, episcopal consecration “also confers the office of teaching and of governing, which […] can be exercised only in hierarchical communion with the head and the members of the college.” This to my mind is an important point as it underlines the centrality of communion among the members of the hierarchy of the Church (as among all of its members). While episcopal consecration is a gift to the consecrated individual, the powers it confers in terms of teaching and governing are contingent on the entire hierarchy of the Church and don’t ultimately reside with the single bishop. This is again very much modeled on how the Early Church operated: the apostles weren’t just an association of individuals, but a united body of Jesus’ followers, with Jesus in their midst. Lumen Gentium calls them a “college,” which already etymologically points to collaboration, since it derives from collega: “one chosen to work with another.”

“St. Peter and the other apostles constitute one apostolic college, so in a similar way the Roman Pontiff, the successor of Peter, and the bishops, the successors of the apostles, are joined together.” Hence, “issues [are to be] settled in common, the opinion of the many having been prudently considered.” Nonetheless, “the college […] of bishops has no authority unless it is understood together with the Roman Pontiff, the successor of Peter as its head.” The college of bishops, “insofar as it is composed of many, expresses the variety and universality of the People of God, but insofar as it is assembled under one head, it expresses the unity of the flock of Christ.” To my mind, the balance presented here between collegiality on the one hand and singular, individual authority on the other, and between variety and unity, are all modeled on the Trinity itself, where unity and distinction coexist and where there is a life that needs to be participated in rather than rules for mindless execution.

One of the main roles of bishops is preaching the Gospel, from which they bring forth “new things and old,[see Matthew 13:52] making it bear fruit and vigilantly warding off any errors that threaten their flock.” When “teaching in communion with the Roman Pontiff, [they] are to be respected by all as […] speak[ing] in the name of Christ.”

In this context, Lumen Gentium underlines the doctrine of papal infallibility, by again starting from Jesus, who “willed His Church to be endowed [with infallibility] in defining doctrine of faith and morals.” The pope’s infallibility manifests itself when he, “the head of the college of bishops, […] as the supreme shepherd and teacher of all the faithful, who confirms his brethren in their faith, by a definitive act […] proclaims a doctrine of faith or morals.” The resulting proclamations “of themselves, and not from the consent of the Church, are […] irreformable, since they are pronounced with the assistance of the Holy Spirit, promised to him in blessed Peter, and therefore they need no approval of others, nor do they allow an appeal to any other judgment.” Seen within the above presentation of the Church’s hierarchy, there is nothing jarring or surprising about infallibility being attributed to the above proclamations. Furthermore the weight of responsibility they carry has meant a tremendously sparing use since this teaching first became dogmatically binding in Vatican I (see Pastor Aeternus).

Another of a bishop’s key roles is his being the steward of priesthood in the local church that he serves, “especially in the Eucharist, which he offers or causes to be offered.” “Every legitimate celebration of the Eucharist is regulated by the bishop, […] administering it in accordance with the Lord’s commandments and the Church’s laws, as further defined by his particular judgment for his diocese.” Bishops are therefore there to transmit Jesus’ holiness: “By the ministry of the word […] and through the sacraments, the regular and fruitful distribution of which they regulate by their authority, they sanctify the faithful. [… B]y the example of their way of life they must be an influence for good to those over whom they preside, refraining from all evil and, as far as they are able with God’s help, exchanging evil for good, so that together with the flock committed to their care they may arrive at eternal life.” In all this they need to “remember that he who is greater should become as the lesser and he who is the chief become as the servant” (cf. Luke 22:26-27).

The above “job description” is brought together by emphasizing the Good Shepherd as the role model for bishops, “who came not to be ministered unto but to minister, and to lay down his life for his sheep” (cf. John 10:11). Bishops are then reminded that they too are “beset with weakness” and that this ought to lead them “to hav[ing] compassion on the ignorant and erring.” A bishop is “not [to] refuse to listen to his subjects” and needs to “take care of [his flock] by his prayer, preaching, and all the works of charity, and not only of them but also of those who are not yet of the one flock.” The faithful in turn “must cling to their bishop, as the Church does to Christ, and Jesus Christ to the Father, so that all may be of one mind through unity.”

Having presented the role of the bishop, Lumen Gentium proceeds to introduce priests and deacons, to whom a bishop “hand[s] on […] various degrees of participation in [his] ministry.” Priests, who “are dependent on the bishops in the exercise of their power[, …] are consecrated to preach the Gospel and shepherd the faithful and to celebrate divine worship.” “They exercise their sacred function especially in the Eucharistic worship or the celebration of the Mass[, …] acting in the person of Christ.” Priests “believ[e] what they have read and meditated upon in the law of God, teach what they have believed, and put in practice in their own lives what they have taught.” Finally, priests are also called to “wipe out every kind of separateness, so that the whole human race may be brought into the unity of the family of God.”

Chapter three then ends with a presentation of how deacons figure in the Church’s hierarchy. “[S]trengthened by sacramental grace, in communion with the bishop and […] priests they serve in the diaconate of the liturgy, of the word, and of charity to the people of God.” The list of a deacon’s duties then is to “administer baptism solemnly, to be custodian and dispenser of the Eucharist, to assist at and bless marriages in the name of the Church, to bring Viaticum to the dying, to read the Sacred Scripture to the faithful, to instruct and exhort the people, to preside over the worship and prayer of the faithful, to administer sacramentals, to officiate at funeral and burial services.” In other words, this looks to me like almost everything that a priest is ordained to do, expect for celebrating the Eucharist. Lumen Gentium then states that “[t]he diaconate can in the future be restored as a proper and permanent rank of the hierarchy [… and] be conferred upon men of more mature age, even upon those living in the married state.” Raising the diaconate to a permanent state (as opposed to a transitory one that those preparing for the priesthood received towards the end of their studies) and opening it to married men was a big deal and something contemplated for the future during Vatican II. Today, fifty years later, it is great to see that – at least in some countries – this vision has become reality.

The end of the third chapter brings us to the point where the Church, initially presented as the link between God and humanity and then fleshed out in terms of how it operates, has had its hierarchy presented in greater detail. Like in its previous chapters, here too there is a constant balancing act (that was also present in Dei Verbum), which attempts to present the transcendent, divine and perfect, incarnate in the weak, human and limited. Instead of being a cause for frustration and disappointment, humanity is lifted up and called to participate in the life of the Trinity, while remaining conscious of its limitations. Instead of being obstacles, these limitations are opportunities for compassion and for the overcoming of separateness. To my mind this chapter too is a source of joy and I look forward to reading about the laity next in chapter four.

Lumen Gentium: On the People of God

[Just a quick apology before you proceed – this post has turned out to be rather longer than I hoped for, but there was just so much of interest in this chapter of Lumen Gentium that I couldn’t be any more succinct. You may prefer to read it in parts rather than all in one go …]

To have any chance of reading the full set of 16 Vatican II documents during this Year of Faith, I need to press on and take a look at the second chapter of Lumen Gentium, the council’s dogmatic constitution on the Church. In the first chapter, we got a view of who the Church is, as seen from God’s perspective – i.e., what the ultimate end of the Church is, while here, in chapter two, the focus is more on a view from the trenches: the People of God.

If you are reading this as an agnostic or a non-Catholic, let me first point you to the caveat in my post on Dei Verbum (paragraph 2), and re-iterate how this particular document does not use the most accessible language (e.g., with sentences like “Fortified by so many and such powerful means of salvation, all the faithful, whatever their condition or state, are called by the Lord, each in his own way, to that perfect holiness whereby the Father Himself is perfect.”). While I would feel quite at ease recommending a direct reading of Dei Verbum to anyone interested in how the Church understands Scripture, I’d hesitate when it comes to Lumen Gentium. Nonetheless, if you consider Lumen Gentium to be like a patent is to a scientific paper and take the time to peel away its particular form, the substance it carries is well worth the effort.

The starting point of Chapter 2 is Jesus’ New Testament, which forms a new people (the People of God) by means not of genetics (as was the case in the Old Testament, where the Israelites are already called the “Church of God”) but of the Spirit. All who believe in Jesus, become members of His people through baptism and the actions of the Holy Spirit. “The state of this people is that of the dignity and freedom of the sons of God, in whose hearts the Holy Spirit dwells as in His temple. Its law is the new commandment to love as Christ loved us.” A clearer distinction is made here between those who are members of the People of God and those who are not than in the first chapter. The Church is presented as the salt or yeast from which the whole world can benefit: “although it does not actually include all men, and at times may look like a small flock, [the Church] is nonetheless a lasting and sure seed of unity, hope and salvation for the whole human race.” Looking back at chapter one and at Dei Verbum, this should not be taken as an indication of superiority, but simply as an attempt at specificity. Clearly not all of humanity believes that Jesus is God, who came to show us the way to Himself, and Lumen Gentium here strives to spell out what it is that those who hold this belief are like and how they live as a community. This positioning of the Church is particularly clear from the following: “Established by Christ as a communion of life, charity and truth, [the Church] is also used by Him as an instrument for the redemption of all.”

The role of the People of God is to “bear witness to Christ and give an answer to those who seek an account of that hope of eternal life which is in them.” This is done by all members of the Church by participating in the priesthood of Jesus, who is its head. Those consecrated to the “ministerial priesthood” “teach and rule the priestly people; acting in the person of Christ, making present the Eucharistic sacrifice, and offering it to God in the name of all the people.” The laity too participate in Jesus’ (“royal”) priesthood, which they exercise “in receiving the sacraments, in prayer and thanksgiving, in the witness of a holy life, and by self-denial and active charity.” The whole church therefore is a “priestly community.”

It is a community that operates through the “sacraments and the exercise of the virtues,” where members are “[i]ncorporated in the Church through baptism” (incorporated since the Church is the Body of Christ, as chapter one sets out). This membership is further perfected by confirmation, when “the Holy Spirit endows them with special strength so that they are more strictly obliged to spread and defend the faith, both by word and by deed.” The Eucharist, which is “the fount and apex of the whole Christian life” strengthens them and “manifest[s] in a concrete way [the] unity of the people of God.” Through the sacrament of Penance, they “obtain pardon from […] God for the offence committed against Him and are […] reconciled with the Church.” Through the anointing of the sick, the People of God “associat[e] themselves freely with the passion and death of Christ.” Those who are consecrated by “Holy Orders[,] are appointed to feed the Church in Christ’s name with the word and the grace of God,” while those who receive the sacrament of Matrimony, “partake of the mystery of that unity and fruitful love which exists between Christ and His Church, help each other to attain to holiness in their married life and in the rearing and education of their children.” “From the wedlock of Christians there comes the family, in which new citizens of human society are born, who by the grace of the Holy Spirit received in baptism are made children of God, thus perpetuating the people of God through the centuries. The family is, so to speak, the domestic church.” What is crystal clear from the above is that the sacraments (shown in bold) are the “means of salvation,” helping the members of the Church to “bear witness to Christ.”

So far, so good, but what comes next in §12 is to me the most interesting part of Chapter 2 (as the preceding paragraphs were edifying, but had a sense of the taxonomical about them):

“The entire body of the faithful […] cannot err in matters of belief. They manifest this special property by means of the whole peoples’ supernatural discernment in matters of faith when “from the Bishops down to the last of the lay faithful” they show universal agreement in matters of faith and morals. That discernment in matters of faith is aroused and sustained by the Spirit of truth. It is exercised under the guidance of the sacred teaching authority, in faithful and respectful obedience to which the people of God accepts that which is not just the word of men but truly the word of God. Through it, the people of God adheres unwaveringly to the faith given once and for all to the saints, penetrates it more deeply with right thinking, and applies it more fully in its life.”

This is strong stuff, both as it states that the entire body of the faithful “cannot err” when it comes to faith and morals and as it calls for careful thought being applied to these beliefs and for their ever more perfect putting into practice. To my mind the key takeaway here is that infallibility here is attributed to the “entire body of the faithful” – i.e., the Mystical Body of Christ that has Jesus as its head. If truly all the faithful hold a certain belief then I can well subscribe to that belief having to be taken seriously and having to be attributed to the Holy Spirit. What this view does is to place the whole of the Church in a position of tremendous importance and responsibility, far from the usual caricature where the hierarchy is seen as dictating to a flock that follows it blindly and unthinkingly. The flip side of such status is the responsibility we carry for disagreements and disunity within the Church, which prevents us from accessing the unerring insights that the Holy Spirit has prepared for us when we are united.¹

Two aspects of the above strike me as relevant: first, that this is not a new idea, but instead a centuries-old idea that has had new light shed on it and second, that it again points to the continuing action of the Holy Spirit. In terms of the first aspect, the basic idea can be seen already in the Latin proverb: “Vox populi, vox Dei” (“The voice of the people is the voice of God”) which has been quoted as a proverb already in the 8th century AD. The second aspect then is particlarly clearly illuminated by what Pope Benedict XVI in fact said just today:

“This gift, the sensus fidei, constitutes in the believer a kind of supernatural instinct that has a connatural life with the same object of faith. It is a criterion for discerning whether or not a truth belongs to the deposit of the living apostolic tradition. It also has a propositional value because the Holy Spirit does not cease to speak to the Churches and lead them to the whole truth.”

To underline the profound vocation of every single member of the People of God, Lumen Gentium points to the Holy Spirit’s gifts being bestowed on anyone whom He chooses: “[T]he Holy Spirit sanctifies and leads the people of God and enriches it with virtues, “allotting his gifts to everyone according as He wills.” He distributes special graces among the faithful of every rank. By these gifts He makes them fit and ready to undertake the various tasks and offices which contribute toward the renewal and building up of the Church.” This acknowledges very clearly that it is not the hierarchy of the church alone who have a role of leadership in the Church, but that the Holy Spirit can choose anyone to contribute to its renewal, “but judgment as to their genuinity and proper use belongs to those who are appointed leaders in the Church, to whose special competence it belongs, not indeed to extinguish the Spirit, but to test all things and hold fast to that which is good.” A very careful balance is presented here between the hierarchical and the “charismatic” aspect of the Church, which underlines again the fact that the Church are all the People of God.

Paragraph 13 then focuses on there being only one People of God, “which takes its citizens from every race, making them citizens of a kingdom which is of a heavenly rather than of an earthly nature.” This “takes nothing away from the temporal welfare of any people. On the contrary it fosters and takes to itself, insofar as they are good, the ability, riches and customs in which the genius of each people expresses itself.” All the diversity in the Church then has as its goal the fulfillment of St. Peter’s words: “According to the gift that each has received, administer it to one another as good stewards of the manifold grace of God” (1 Peter 4:10).

In paragraph 14 we turn to the role of the Church in the context of salvation and we start with a warning: “Whosoever, […] knowing that the Catholic Church was made necessary by Christ, would refuse to enter or to remain in it, could not be saved.” Membership in the Church requires acceptance of “her entire system and all the means of salvation given to her, and [being] united with her as part of her visible bodily structure and through her with Christ, who rules her through the Supreme Pontiff and the bishops.” Even membership (for those who know that it is necessary for salvation) is not sufficient though: “He is not saved, however, who, though part of the body of the Church, does not persevere in charity. He remains indeed in the bosom of the Church, but, as it were, only in a “bodily” manner and not “in his heart.”” And it gets even worse! Those who “fail […] to respond to [the grace of Christ] in thought, word and deed, not only shall they not be saved but they will be the more severely judged.” Reading Chapter two very much gives you a sense of growing wonder as you proceed towards the end of §13, only to be followed by a cold shower and stark warnings!

So, what does §15 hold? First, it starts by acknowledging that there are Christians outside the Catholic Church:

“They lovingly believe in God the Father Almighty and in Christ, the Son of God and Saviour. They are consecrated by baptism, in which they are united with Christ. They also recognize and accept other sacraments within their own Churches or ecclesiastical communities. Many of them rejoice in the episcopate, celebrate the Holy Eucharist and cultivate devotion toward the Virgin Mother of God. They also share with us in prayer and other spiritual benefits. Likewise we can say that in some real way they are joined with us in the Holy Spirit, for to them too He gives His gifts and graces whereby He is operative among them with His sanctifying power.”

The key to me here is not only the extensive list of similarities that the Catholic Church sees in other “churches and ecclesiastical communities” but also the warmth of the language used (“lovingly believe,” “consecrated by baptism,” “rejoice in the episcopate,” “cultivate devotion,” “joined with us in the Holy Spirit”). There is a real yearning and well-wishing here and a desire to “pray, hope and work” towards being “peacefully united.”

Paragraph 16 then talks about where the Catholic Church sees non-Christians in this picture and there is again a sense of openness, warmth and yearning here. First come the Jews, “from whom Christ was born according to the flesh”: “this people remains most dear to God, for God does not repent of the gifts He makes nor of the calls He issues.” Next, come the Muslims “who, professing to hold the faith of Abraham, along with us adore the one and merciful God, who on the last day will judge mankind.” Then there are all others who seek God: “Nor is God far distant from [them], for it is He who gives to all men life and breath and all things, and as Saviour wills that all men be saved.” Finally, all those of good will are in the picture too: “Divine Providence [does not] deny the helps necessary for salvation to those who, without blame on their part, have not yet arrived at an explicit knowledge of God and with His grace strive to live a good life.” The message is very clear: all are called to salvation and each has to take advantage of all the means they are offered for reaching it, according to their conscience and understanding.

Finally, Chapter 2 closes with a reminder of Jesus’ words: “Go, therefore, make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you. And behold I am with you all days even to the consummation of the world” (Mathew 28:19). All members of the Church have an “obligation of spreading the faith” so that “whatever good is in the minds and hearts of men, whatever good lies latent in the religious practices and cultures of diverse peoples, is not only saved from destruction but is also cleansed, raised up and perfected unto the glory of God.” All this is done so that “the entire world may become the People of God,” which instead of being an attempt to conquer or colonize is one of striving for unity in diversity.

¹ I would just like to tip my hat to my bestie PM, who has essentially arrived at this point without having read Lumen Gentium!