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The very notion of the development of Catholic doctrine is of course very much in discussion today and will be for a long while yet, but it seems to me that the concept itself is a bit messier than is typically depicted. To illustrate what the development of doctrine looks like, analogies from the realm of art are often employed. Here, the artist begins with a general background and proceeds towards increasingly greater detail and precision; similarly, the Church’s formulated teaching goes from the general and more certain to greater detail and precision as new questions and problems arise throughout the Church’s history.

This is certainly true as far as it goes, but this picture might in some small ways be too neat and thus not entirely true to the facts. An artist will often go back and erase or paint over parts of what he drew or painted, because as it stands, a particular part of the unfinished product will not, if left alone, help to express what the artist intends, and it is only afterwards that he recognizes the incongruity.

Our own individual self-understanding is always, for the most part, imperfect, vague and lacking precision, more or less correct, and it is in time that our self-understanding becomes more explicit and true to what we are at our most fundamental level. This growth in self-understanding often involves discarding elements of that self-understanding that are inconsistent with our fundamental orientation — I eventually come to the realization that “this is not me,” at least not entirely so. Similarly, the Church is a living organism, and living organisms are self-correcting. This self-correction occurs in history, and it may take centuries for this living organism that is the Church to correct herself with respect to a particular matter, but this self-correcting can and often does involve erasures of certain parts that distort and thus fail to express or articulate the Church’s deepest self-understanding, which becomes more explicit as time goes on.

For example, consider the following excerpt from the Council of Florence (15th century):

The Holy Roman Church firmly believes, professes, and proclaims that those not living within the Catholic Church, not only pagans, but also Jews and heretics and schismatics cannot become participants in eternal life, but will depart “into everlasting fire which was prepared for the devil and his angels,” unless before the end of life the same have been added to the flock. The unity of the ecclesiastical body is so strong that only to those remaining in it are the Church’s sacraments of benefit for salvation, … and that no one, whatever almsgiving he has practiced, even if he has shed blood for the name of Christ, can be saved, unless he has remained in the bosom and unity of the Catholic Church.

There is here a clear ruling out of the further qualification of a person outside the Catholic Church who sheds his blood for Christ. However, let us compare this with the Second Vatican Council, section 15 of Lumen Gentium:

The Church recognizes that in many ways she is linked with those who, being baptized, are honored with the name of Christian, though they do not profess the faith in its entirety or do not preserve unity of communion with the successor of Peter. For there are many who honor Sacred Scripture, taking it as a norm of belief and a pattern of life, and who show a sincere zeal. 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. Some indeed He has strengthened to the extent of the shedding of their blood. In all of Christ’s disciples the Spirit arouses the desire to be peacefully united, in the manner determined by Christ, as one flock under one shepherd, and He prompts them to pursue this end. Mother Church never ceases to pray, hope and work that this may come about. (LG 15)

So, although a person may not be in communion with the successor of Peter, he or she is nevertheless united to the Church by virtue of baptism, grace, prayer, love of scripture, even martyrdom, etc. The possibility of salvation is even extended to the unbaptized, to non-Christians (Jews, Muslims, and certain so called “atheists”):

Finally, those who have not yet received the Gospel are related in various ways to the people of God. In the first place we must recall the people to whom the testament and the promises were given and from whom Christ was born according to the flesh. On account of their fathers this people remains most dear to God, for God does not repent of the gifts He makes nor of the calls He issues. But the plan of salvation also includes those who acknowledge the Creator. In the first place amongst these there are 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. Nor is God far distant from those who in shadows and images seek the unknown God, for it is He who gives to all men life and breath and all things, and as Saviour wills that all men be saved. Those also can attain to salvation who through no fault of their own do not know the Gospel of Christ or His Church, yet sincerely seek God and moved by grace strive by their deeds to do His will as it is known to them through the dictates of conscience. Nor does Divine Providence 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. Whatever good or truth is found amongst them is looked upon by the Church as a preparation for the Gospel. She knows that it is given by Him who enlightens all men so that they may finally have life. (LG 16)

The various and subtle ways that a person can be related to the Church, the Mystical Body of Christ the Head, had not yet dawned on the fathers of the Council of Florence; that will take another 500 years—unless of course there is buried somewhere textual evidence that shows otherwise, in which case the Council fathers would have been the worst of communicators. It is easy to imagine that had the fathers of the Council of Florence been given these two sections of Lumen Gentium in writing, the parchment would have ended up in the fireplace rather quickly.

This, I believe, is an example of a genuine development, which involves more than a greater attention to detail, but an erasure of sorts, a restating with parts left out, a “painting over” of a section whose formulation did not quite express the mind and heart of the Church, which was much better expressed at Vatican II. The fathers of the Council of Florence would not have recognized the value of these distinctions at the time, but the mind and heart of the Church is always much larger than the mind of an individual cleric or group of clerics, who although they possess a charism and as a whole constitute the organ of the charism of infallibility, are always limited by matter, geography and time.

Furthermore, the current self-understanding of the Church and her teachings are not solely communicated to us through conciliar texts. We all know the expression: “Actions speak louder than words.” We act on the basis of what we know and profess, and so not only do we often regret what we said in the past, which articulates what we thought was fundamental and true at the time, we also regret what we have done. Actions are a universal language. As Christ said: “You will know them by their fruits” (Mt 7, 16). This implies that fruits are indicative; they reveal. The Church does not sanction torture and killing as she once did (for example, in the case of heretics), nor slavery, nor would the Church tolerate a Johann Tetzel today; a modern day Luther would not fear for his life and would gladly visit Rome to explain himself, and Rome would listen. Every teacher knows that we teach first and foremost by our actions, because actions are words. Every person looks back on his own life and regrets what he or she said at one time or another, or how it was said, and this is true of the Church in the world. Further qualifications are a kind of erasure, that is, an instance of painting over an earlier brush stroke that was heading in the wrong direction.

Piet Fransen, SJ, writes: “A council is the Church in action at a given time and a given place in history. A dogma is not an endpoint as much as a new beginning and must be reinterpreted in dialogue with the sensus fidei.” (See Intelligent Theology, Vol 1, Plymouth: Latimer Trend & Co Ltd. 1967. P. 9-39). Similarly, a brush stroke is not an endpoint, but a beginning. Dogmas are not free from historical evolution, and conciliar texts, like scripture, must be subject to the same kind of literary criticism, that is, the distinction between assertion and proposition is just as important for conciliar texts as it is for scripture.

In this light, it is a bit more difficult to articulate precisely what infallibility means. It is indeed a charism that belongs to the Church as a whole, and the Magisterium is its organ. But, as Piet Fransen writes: “We are also profoundly conscious of the precariousness of human truth. This is all the more so with “divine truth,” since any human formulation of it necessarily falls short of the richness and fullness of the divine reality. If it is permissible to talk of infallibility in relation to man, it must first be a qualification of an activity, and not of a proposition, and that under the guidance of the infallible God. Infallibility is a property of a free person; never of a sentence, since any sentence as such, without its context, can be understood and read in many different ways. Whenever we are allowed a participatory form of infallibility, then this infallibility does not lie so much in the formulation itself but in the concrete intention, the affirmative direction, the so-called ‘significance’ of this particular formulation” (See “Unity and Confessional Statements. Historical and Theological Inquiry of R. C. Traditional Conceptions,” in Hermeneutics of the Councils and Other Studies. Collected by H.E. Mertens and F. De Graeve. Leuven University Press, 1985. P. 279-280).

How this charism works on the ground is thus historical and dialectical, often a struggle that involves the faithful and everyone who is united in some way to the Church, and so it involves dialogue, an ability to observe the Church as a whole and listen, including those who are invisibly united and related to the Church, which in turn requires an openness to the world, a model of the Church hinted at by Pope John XXIII. This dialogue, Fransen writes, “should spread in four concentric circles over the entire world. The first dialogue is with the ‘members of the household of the faith’ (Gal 6, 10), the members of the Church. In the second place, the dialogue with those who sincerely believe in Christ, but are still standing outside the unity of the Church. Next, the dialogue with those who believe in God but have as yet no knowledge of Christ. Finally, the dialogue with all men of goodwill, whatever their persuasion—provided they are sincere and have pity on ‘man and his woes.’” (The New Life of Grace, translated by George Dupont, S.J. London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1971, p. 185-187)

Many of the faithful, however, are still afraid to bend, because they believe that if they bend, they will break, i.e., lose their faith, and that everything which belongs to my faith will now potentially make its way to the sewer. But this is a serious misconception. We have to allow God to bend our faith; for we believe in the gospel and through the gift of understanding we apprehend to some degree, through the light of faith that gives rise to that gift, the gospel that we embrace, but we do not apprehend it in its fullness. There are theological implications to what we choose to believe that have yet to be drawn out, and these implications, which make for a much richer understanding, may not be drawn out in our lifetime. But it cannot be denied that all our thoughts and dogmatic formulae fall short of the divine fullness, the inexhaustible mystery of God.


Image: By Benozzo Gozzoli – La Capella dei Magi, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=809730


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Douglas McManaman was born in Toronto and grew up in Montreal. He studied philosophy at the University of St. Jerome’s College (Waterloo) and theology at the University of Montreal. He is a permanent deacon of the Archdiocese of Toronto and ministers to those with mental illness. He taught Religion, Philosophy and the Theory of Knowledge for 32 years in Southern Ontario, and he is the current chaplain of the Toronto Chapter of the Catholic Teachers Guild. He is a Senior Lecturer at Niagara University and teach Marriage Prep for the Archdiocese of Toronto. His recent books include Why Be Afraid? (Justin Press, 2014) and The Logic of Anger (Justin Press, 2015), and Christ Lives! (Justin Press, 2017), as well as The Morally Beautiful (Amazon.ca), Introduction to Philosophy for Young People (Amazon.ca), Readings in the Theory of Knowledge, Basic Catholicism, and A Treatise on the Four Cardinal Virtues. He has two podcast channels: Podcasts for the Religious, and Podcasts for Young Philosophers. He currently lives with his wife and daughter in Ontario, Canada.

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