(Updated November 14)

On Monday, November 13 — perhaps in response to the removal of Bishop Joseph Strickland from the see of Tyler, Texas — traditionalist author Peter Kwasniewski posted on both X and his Facebook page, “I’m beginning to wonder if hyperpapalism is the most subtle and insidious of all heresies. As St Paul says that ‘Satan transformeth himself into an angel of light’ (2 Cor 11:14), so hyperpapalism mimics reverence, apes obedience, and coddles piety, while betraying Christ.”

Hyperpapalism sounds awful, as Kwasniewski describes it. Fortunately for all of us, none of his attempts to define the term have ever resembled the views actually held by any living human being. I have never seen a criticism of hyperpapalism from Kwasniewski (or anyone else for that matter) that wasn’t a clear example of the straw man fallacy. A straw man fallacy, for those unfamiliar with the term, happens when someone distorts and exaggerates another person’s argument and attacks the exaggerated version instead of the original point.

Kwasniewski and other outspoken traditionalists did not settle on the term “hyperpapalism” until two or three years ago. Previously they used terms like “ultramontanism,” “papolatry,” or even “Mottramism” to describe those whom they believed to hold an exaggerated understanding of papal primacy. But once they collectively decided that they liked ultramontanists — as Charles Coulombe put it in a One Peter Five article, “Ultramontanism, a necessary thing, indeed, to fight Liberalism and Modernism” — they settled on hyperpapalist as their pejorative of choice to describe Catholics who are deferential to papal authority.

The word may be a novelty, but the concept is not. For example, in September 2020, Peter Kwasniewski delivered a lecture series at a parish in Pennsylvania entitled, “My Journey from Ultramontanism to Catholicism.” In it he described what he called  “hypertrophic” ultramontanism, which he defined as “a sort of excessive adherence to the person and policies of the pope, by which one simplistically takes everything he says as a definitive judgment and everything he does as a praiseworthy example, wrapping the mantle of infallibility around all his teaching and the garment of impeccability around all his behavior.”

In an interview with the European Conservative, Kwasniewski said that “‘hyperpapalist’ Catholics think (or pretend to think) that we must all simply change our minds with each new pope and move in whatever direction he says, without leaning on any other support for knowing the content of the Faith or the right way to live. They make no distinctions.”

In another article he doesn’t provide a clear definition, and simply describes hyperpapalism as “a way of referring to an extreme or exaggerated ultramontanism in the Church.” Elsewhere, he quipped, “we see most dramatically the uncatholic irrationality to which the hyperpapalist position reduces itself, making the pope a magician who can transform something bad into something good simply by adding his signature.”

In a post for Rorate Caeli he described “a hyperpapalism that concentrates all authority, all truth, all law, and the sum total of ‘Catholic identity’ in the papal office and in the very person of the pope, as if it then emanates from him to every other authority.” Also on Rorate Caeli, he said that to accept the liturgical reforms of Vatican II would be “to betray oneself, one’s innermost certainties, and the wisdom of ages, in the name of a blind obedience that requires the sacrifice of intellect, the faculty that makes man human and capable of divinization.”

Other radical traditionalists have weighed in with their own descriptions of hyperpapalism. Timothy Flanders wrote on One Peter Five that “the hallmark of hyperpapalism is the idea (from De La Mennais) that one must obey the pope even to the denial of rationality.” In another article, he offered this definition: “Hyperpapalist – the pope can never be in error or heretical, and his will is the will of the Holy Spirit, and thus anything less than blind obedience to him is schismatic.”

You get the idea.

Yet when I read these definitions, none of them apply to my understanding of papal supremacy. Simplistic? Blind obedience? The denial of rationality? Concentrating the sum total of ‘Catholic identity’ into the pope? What in the world?

Why do radical traditionalists portray those with whom they disagree as cartoon characters? Is it because they fear engaging their arguments? Are they so self-absorbed that they won’t bother to understand different points of view?

Anglican hyperpapalism

The earliest instance of the term “hyperpapalism” that I could find was cited in a 1977 edition of the Anglican Church Times newspaper, which featured a short but fiery editorial with the heading “100 Years Ago,” dated November 2, 1877. The paper at that time was closely affiliated with the Oxford Movement, which sought to emphasize the ritual and sacramental aspects of Anglicanism and to promote high church practices. The 1877 column criticizes the Anglican bishop of Gloucester and Bristol at the time, the Evangelical (low church) biblical scholar Charles John Ellicott (1819-1905).

The author of the article objected to Ellicott’s “venomous polemic” against what the bishop described as “three great evils,” and thus abusing “his position to stir the embers of decaying strife” within the Church of England. One of the “evils” that Ellicott decried was sacerdotalism — placing a strong focus on the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist, the importance of apostolic succession, and the use of rituals and vestments that were more reminiscent of Catholicism.

The author said that he agreed sacerdotalism was evil, but that the real sacerdotalism was “the hyperpapalism of sundry bishops who want to see clergy and laity alike reduced to that ‘drop-down-dead-ativeness’ of demeanour which they think becoming in the presence of the high priest.”

Perhaps then it is fitting that those who have popularized the word “hyperpapalism” today are also those who emphasize ritual, vestments, and doctrine and fiercely criticize those who offer even the slightest deference to ecclesiastical authority.

The Catholic Position on the Papacy

If traditionalists want to refute the positions on the papacy that many Catholics (including me) hold — if they want to “steel-man” the arguments against radical traditionalism — here are some points they may want to keep in mind before they make up silly caricatures.

No one that I know gives blind and complete obedience to the pope. Yes, Pope Benedict did vow his absolute obedience to his successor, but it was a conscious decision. No one said he gave up his use of reason in doing so. One may, out of trust in Christ’s promises to the Church, pledge such obedience, but we are likewise bound to our consciences and should regularly examine them. We should never allow ourselves to become automatons.

Additionally, I have never heard an even moderately educated person suggest that Pope Francis (or any pope) has some kind of direct channel to God. I certainly don’t believe that. Revelation ended with the death of the last Apostle. What the Church has are the promises of Jesus to Peter and his successors. Likewise, the pope does not experience private revelations that assist him in his teaching. And we must remember, the pope is not impeccable, he is a sinner, he can make terrible decisions at the prudential level.

But the Church does say that Peter and his successors have the keys of the kingdom, and the power of binding and loosing. We remember Christ’s prayer that Peter’s faith will not fail, and the promise that the gates of hell will not prevail. How exactly these scriptural teachings “work” — metaphysically speaking — is something impossible for us to know on this side of heaven. But just as we believe in the Trinity and Mary’s Immaculate Conception, there are some doctrines that we are obligated to accept despite our imperfect understanding.

Finally, in light of these realities, we also have consciences, free will, and intellect, and we can and must use them. It’s a simple fact that teachings of the Magisterium can challenge, confuse, and upset us. Yet the Church nevertheless teaches clearly that we are to grant religious assent to the pope’s teachings on faith and morals, even if he does not teach definitively. Lumen Gentium 25 says, “This religious submission of mind and will must be shown in a special way to the authentic magisterium of the Roman Pontiff, even when he is not speaking ex cathedra; that is, it must be shown in such a way that his supreme magisterium is acknowledged with reverence, the judgments made by him are sincerely adhered to, according to his manifest mind and will. His mind and will in the matter may be known either from the character of the documents, from his frequent repetition of the same doctrine, or from his manner of speaking.” The Catechism elaborates on this point when it teaches that religious assent, “though distinct from the assent of faith, is nonetheless an extension of it” (CCC 892).

Is it hyperpapalist for a Catholic to follow this teaching to the best of their ability?

Certainly, we all struggle with some magisterial teachings, but the way we respond to teachings that challenge or disappoint us is very important. And radical traditionalists regularly go far beyond the distinctions articulated by the Church — not just rejecting papal teachings, but branding those who grant assent as heretics. Rather than approaching the Magisterium with openness or receptivity, they often approach teachings with a hermeneutic of suspicion or even rebellion. Our impulse should be obedience to the teachings promulgated by the pope.

Donum Veritatis, the 1990 document by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF) on the Ecclesiastical Vocation of the Theologian, explains the dangers of an oppositional approach to papal teachings, saying, “The Magisterium has drawn attention several times to the serious harm done to the community of the Church by attitudes of general opposition to Church teaching which even come to expression in organized groups. In his apostolic exhortation Paterna cum benevolentia, [Saint] Paul VI offered a diagnosis of this problem which is still apropos. In particular, he addresses here that public opposition to the Magisterium of the Church, also called ‘dissent’, which must be distinguished from the situation of personal difficulties” (DV 32, emphasis added).

Saint John Paul II spoke about this distinction between private struggle and public opposition in a 1995 address to the CDF, explaining, “It is certainly necessary to distinguish the attitude of theologians who, in a spirit of cooperation and ecclesial communion, present their difficulties and questions, and thus positively contribute to the maturing of reflection on the deposit of faith, form the public stance of opposition to the Magisterium, which is described as ‘dissent’; the latter tends to set up a kind of counter-magisterium, presenting believers with alternative positions and forms of behavior.”

What happens if we publicly disagree with something taught by the pope in his Magisterium? If we cannot accept a teaching of the Magisterium in good conscience and we express publicly that we reject the teaching, that’s dissent, objectively speaking. We lack the authority to change the official teachings of the pope to “not Magisterium.” But we also have primacy of conscience. We have free will to choose to dissent and disobey. If you want to do that, it’s between you and God. Just don’t call it “orthodox.”

Hopefully this is instructive to radical traditionalists who want to understand the views of those who challenge their arguments and assertions.

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This article has been updated to include screenshot of newspaper article and to add quotes from magisterial documents to the final section.

Image: Generated with Leonardo AI.