On March 19, Dr. Christian Brugger and Fr. Peter Ryan, SJ, “celebrated” the ninth anniversary of Amoris Laetitia with an article that feels less like a fresh analysis and more like a time capsule from 2017.

I confess that, when I started reading it, my first reaction was to double-check the time stamp. For a moment, I thought this was just an old piece making the rounds again.

But no, it was a “new” article, despite bringing nothing new to the table. It’s virtually indistinguishable from the countless articles that flooded the Catholic internet seven years ago.

It’s troubling that some commentators still rehash the same arguments, seemingly unaware (or unwilling to acknowledge) that they’ve been answered time and again.

As recently as 2023, the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith, led by Cardinal Victor Fernandez, published answers to some dubia that shed some light on the matter.

Theological and canon law journals have published many articles in several languages dedicated to uncovering the true meaning of Amoris Laetitia.

Entire websites were created during the heat of this controversy, meticulously answering the arguments being levelled against Amoris Laetitia.

There were books published to address the criticisms—one of which received a preface from the Holy Father himself.

I myself wrote an entire book dedicated to tackling every main objection to Amoris Laetitia’s orthodoxy—including those raised in this article.

This book was published in 2022 and was awarded 1^st Place from the 2023 Catholic Media Awards in the category “Pope Francis” (with an honorable mention in the “Sacraments” category).

In this article, I’ll demonstrate how my book, The Orthodoxy of Amoris Laetitia, had already addressed every major argument Brugger and Fr. Ryan present—three years before their piece was published. My goal is simple: to finally lay these tired, outdated objections to rest.

“Ambiguity” as a way to discard proper interpretations

Before we dive in, it’s crucial to highlight a key admission from Brugger and Ryan: they acknowledge that Amoris Laetitia “never explicitly asserts anything contrary to divine revelation.”

Their issue, instead, lies with what it supposedly “implies” and the “impression” it gives. Meaning, they claim that the “use of ambiguous language” is promoting an allegedly heterodox practice.

“Indeed, the fact that the pope himself has had to emphasize certain interpretations as consistent with his meaning suggests that even he acknowledges the problem of the misunderstanding of his text.”—they write, without recognizing how articles such as theirs might have contributed to those misunderstandings.

In my book, I write about this tactic by critics of Amoris Laetitia:

The existence of multiple interpretations can be used to corroborate the idea that Amoris Laetitia is “ambiguous” and “confusing.” This can then be contrasted with the “clear” definition from Familiaris. Since one is ambiguous and the other is clear, we should follow the latter, for we will be on more solid ground by doing so. . . If only one interpretation is “orthodox,” “consistent with tradition,” and “clear,” the others are labeled as “heretical,” “ambiguous,” “confusing,” and should be discarded for this very same reason. The person advancing this argument will judge by himself which interpretation is orthodox and heterodox, clear or ambiguous. By following this faulty logic, some Catholics may end up rejecting a cogent interpretation, even if sanctioned by the pope, and subscribing instead to an interpretation that is actually less probable. This reasoning may even be used to claim that the interpretation favored by the pope himself is heterodox (pp. 37—38).

This happens throughout Brugger and Ryan’s article. For example, they mention as one “ambiguity” the idea that “the logic of integration requires overcoming the exclusion of these individuals from Eucharistic communion.”

They take issue with Pope Francis’ assertion that divorced and remarried couples living more coniugale “need to feel not as excommunicated members of the Church, but instead as living members.”

(Author’s Note: “more coniugale” and “more uxorio” indicate that the divorced and remarried couple has sexual intercourse and are not living as “brother and sister,” as they should.)

According to Brugger and Ryan, although “these people do not incur the formal penalty of excommunication, they are only living members of the Church if they are invincibly ignorant or incapable of exercising their free will. It is not good for a person in such relationships, or indeed for anyone, to feel that he or she is a living member of the Church unless that person is a living member.”

Of course, as I shall explain below, the cohort that Francis has in mind is precisely those who are “invincibly ignorant or incapable of exercising their free will.” The problem is that Brugger and Ryan (alongside most of the critics of Amoris Laetitia) have an overly restrictive interpretation of what constitutes “invincibly ignorant or incapable of exercising their free will.”

Afterward, the authors say that “people in such relationships should be … helped to take the steps necessary to receive the great grace of having their situations rectified so they can once again become living members.”

They then lament that “this is hardly the obvious interpretation” of Amoris Laetitia. And they are correct. It is not necessary for these people to have “their situations rectified” for them “to become living members.” They already “are” living members, as long as they, as Brugger and Ryan admit, “are invincibly ignorant or incapable of exercising their free will,” regardless of any “rectification.”

Elsewhere in their article, Brugger and Ryan label as “ambiguity” the idea that “a priest can responsibly discern that God sometimes wants people living in more coniugale relationships to receive Holy Communion.”

But this is exactly what Amoris Laetitia intends. Brugger and Ryan even reach the correct conclusion that this “leaves the impression that if a pastor judges that a person is not culpable, his pastoral responsibility is to admit the person to Holy Communion.” There is no ambiguity. They merely disagree with this conclusion and call it “ambiguity.”

The authors cloak accurate interpretations of Amoris Laetitia chapter 8 under the term “ambiguity” in order to propose their own response to the moral conundrum as the correct one, to which Amoris Laetitia must conform. This is exactly the danger I warned against above, in my book.

“Ambiguity” as a vehicle of “implied” interpretations

There is, however, another advantage of employing the “ambiguity” rhetoric: it frees critics from having to prove that Amoris Laetitia explicitly endorses wrongdoing. Instead, they can simply argue that the error is “implicit.” As Brugger and Ryan write (emphasis mine):

“If this interpretation of AL8 is correct, it follows that the chapter implicitly contradicts at least one of the following revealed truths: (1) no one should receive the Eucharist without being willing to conform his or her life to the objective demands of the Gospel; (2) a consummated Christian marriage is absolutely indissoluble; (3) for a married person to have sex with someone other than his or her valid spouse is always adulterous; or (4) adultery is always gravely wrong.”

Again, Brugger and Ryan “note that AL does not explicitly deny any of these truths.” However, “implicitly contradicting a truth of faith also has very serious consequences for the faithful.”

I agree with this. But the problem is that those supposedly “implied” interpretations have been mostly—an ironically—advanced by people from a conservative mindset to find fault with the document. Exactly what Brugger and Ryan are doing here.

They complain about the dire consequences that these “implied contradictions” may cause on the faithful, but there’s absolutely no self-awareness in how they have contributed to promote them.

Brugger and Ryan admit that “theologians who argue that the teaching of such a document implicitly contradicts a truth of faith may be mistaken, and if they are, it would be a service to them and the Church for this to be made clear. . . we would welcome a response that could show that our concerns are misplaced.”

I hope, therefore, that these authors may appreciate how I did just that.

Chapter 6 of my book is titled “Misinterpretations.” One of those misinterpretations is: “That Amoris Laetitia Allows Communion to Impenitent Sinners” (pp. 75—78), which directly challenges the first so-called “implied” contradiction raised by Brugger and Ryan’s quote above.

Another misinterpretation tackled in that chapter is: “That Amoris Laetitia Endangers Church Teaching on the Indissolubility of Marriage” (pp. 69—70), and it addresses contradictions 2 to 4.

Subjective culpability and mortal sin

Another important point that needs to be clarified from the outset is that the interpretative key to Amoris Laetitia lies in the teaching on mitigating circumstances. Without understanding this, one cannot fully grasp the document’s meaning. It’s so essential that in my book, I devoted an entire chapter—chapter 7—to unpacking this teaching.

To make it short, the Church’s tradition establishes that those in a state of mortal sin should not receive communion, and that for a sin to be a mortal sin, three elements must be present simultaneously: 1) grave matter; 2) full knowledge; and 3) full consent.

A sin may involve grave matter, but if mitigating circumstances hinder full knowledge or full consent, the person may not be guilty of mortal sin and can, therefore, receive communion.

This is essential, and that’s the reason why Pope Francis devotes a great chunk of chapter 8 of Amoris Laetitia to explaining mitigating circumstances and subjective culpability. But this is usually ignored.

Authors like Brugger and Ryan focus mostly on the objectively grave matter of sin—and this is where all their “implicit contradictions” stem from. Only by ignoring this crucial linchpin of the document can one believe that Amoris Laetitia endorses sin, even if implicitly.

For example, the authors claim that Amoris Laetitia suggests that those “who struggle with the Sixth Commandment may not be required to keep the moral law of perfect continence.” This is untrue. It is not that they are not required to keep the moral law. Rather, the point is that they are not always culpable for not following it to the extent that they commit a mortal sin.

From my book:

Contrary to situation ethics, mitigating circumstances do not change the objective nature of sin, but only the culpability of the sinner engaged in it. In fact, Pope St. John Paul II, who is usually quoted as a formidable adversary of situation ethics on account of his encyclical Veritatis Splendor, was also the pope that codified the teaching on miti­gating circumstances in the Catechism he promulgated. Therefore, these principles cannot contradict one another (p. 90).

And also:

Veritatis Splendor deals with the objectively evil nature of sin, and especially of intrinsically evil acts. Amoris Laetitia deals with the sub­jective culpability of the sinner. The latter does not change the former. The fact that a sinner is more or less culpable does not change the object of the sin: it remains wrong. Therefore, we are talking about different planes, which do not generally intersect in those two documents, so that they cannot contradict each other (p. 169).

To their credit, Brugger and Ryan do indeed acknowledge the teaching on mitigating circumstances in their article. They correctly point out that to “be inculpable, these persons must either lack sufficient reflection about the wrongness of their adultery or be incapable of avoiding it, or both.”

They also rightly agree that some of what Amoris Laetitia says on this topic “is traditional, for example, that moral responsibility for an action may be diminished by factors such as ignorance, duress, fear, and habit; and that even if one is in an ‘objective situation’ contrary to God’s law, this does not imply that one is morally culpable.”

However, they exclude this from the calculus of whether one should receive the Eucharist or not. We will see shortly on what basis they do so, and why that reasoning is wrong.

Full knowledge and full consent

Brugger and Ryan also severely limit the scope of the mitigating circumstances that diminish subjective culpability.

Regarding full knowledge, they argue that “individuals who have gone through the process of accompaniment do not lack sufficient reflection. For if that process aims at correct conscience formation and can never prescind from the demands of the Gospel, then after adequate formation has taken place, the inculpability that arises from lack of sufficient reflection ordinarily may be presumed to be overcome.”

In my book, I reply to this objection:

Of course, the papal critic might counter-argue: if we are dealing with unintentional ignorance and no one is unable to understand the prin­ciples of the moral law, then all we should do is inform the sinner that he or she is, in fact, committing adultery.

As appealing as this might be, it is not so. It is a simplistic way of looking at reality. A person cannot be formally informed that he is sin­ning and, from that point on, be liable and fully culpable if he does not accept our explanation. Many papal critics seem to think this is an accu­rate description of reality, but the church herself has acknowledged how humanity is more complex than this.

The church has always understood the potential dilemma of in­forming a sinner not prepared to receive the full truth. In this case, the sinner will start formally to sin, even if the person guiding him knew he could not bear the full weight of doctrine at the time. Since our aim should be the salvation of souls and not their damnation, Catholics are urged to exercise discernment about the best timing and way to tell the truth to the sinner (p. 97).

I then use Scripture, as well as writings from St. Gregory the Great, St. Alphonsus Liguori, and even St. John Paul II, as precedents for this course of action.

Brugger and Ryan also tackle the “full consent” side of the equation, needlessly complicating the ascertainment of subjective culpability in this area.

They ask: “Does the text mean that such individuals are inculpable because they are incapable of exercising free will to change their behavior? Even admitting that some may be incapable, how can a priest adequately distinguish between incapability and unwillingness? To assess the measure of a will’s capacity for choice, other than in cases of manifest mental incapacitation, is extremely difficult if not practically impossible.”

I maintain the opposite. It is usually quite easy both for the sinner and for the priest to know when the sinner is incapable of changing his behavior, and when he is unwilling. These stem from completely opposite attitudes.

My book sheds further light on this matter:

[The papal critic] does not think full consent is im­paired in most situations. I theorize that many are influenced by a libertarian outlook, where the only way to coerce someone is through physical violence. However, libertarianism is a post-Enlightenment philosophy, and we wish to focus our attention into what Catholicism actually teaches. If we look at doctrine, we notice that orthodoxy takes a much broader approach to the question of impaired consent than the reductionist view limited to the non-aggression principle. . . Returning to the Catechism’s section on mortal sin, and reading what it has to say about full consent, we can see that “the promptings of feelings and passions can also diminish the voluntary and free character of the offense, as can external pressures or pathological disorders.” In the Catechism’s section on freedom, we can read that imputability and responsibility for an action can be diminished or even nullified, not only by ignorance, but also by “inadvertence, duress, fear, habit, inordinate attachments, and other psychological or social factors.” A man is only responsible for his acts to the extent that they are voluntary, i.e., done with full and free consent. Full consent must always implicate the will (pp. 100—101).

The ability to judge subjective culpability

Further down in the article, Brugger and Ryan note that “a pastor’s ability to judge that someone who is living more coniugale is not culpable for mortal sin is extremely limited. He may think it likely, or even highly likely, that a person living in such a relationship is not culpable. But it is not clear how the pastor can have moral certitude about that.”

In my book, I respond to this critique:

If we took a literalist view of this proposition, as papal critics do, then no one would be able to ever take communion, since no one can ever be sure of being in a state of grace. As Archbishop Victor Fernández argues, one is never “certain” of being in a state of grace, “even if one does not have conscience of having vio­lated a commandment.” Therefore, we are talking about a certain “moral security” that the person is not in mortal sin. This “moral security can be attained through a personal and pastoral discernment, which cannot base itself only in general norms (pp. 182—183).

To ascertain whether mitigating factors hinder full knowledge and consent or not, the pastor needs to make a proper discernment of particular situations—the very discernment that Brugger and Ryan dismiss from the outset. Nevertheless, in my book I say:

Is this important to interpret Amoris Laetitia? We cannot pretend otherwise, for these sections of the Catechism [on mitigating circumstances] that I mentioned here are, in fact, explicitly quoted in the Amoris Laetitia section about mitigating factors in pastoral discernment. I remind the reader, this pastoral dis­cernment on mitigating factors is precisely where the pontiff’s sacramen­tal discipline rests (p. 102).

Sometimes, Brugger and Ryan go as far as gratuitously removing this crucial teaching from the discernment process altogether. For example, they take issue with this quote in Amoris Laetitia (my emphasis):

Under certain circumstances people find it very difficult to act differently. Therefore, while upholding a general rule, it is necessary to recognize that responsibility with respect to certain actions or decisions is not the same in all cases (Amoris Laetitia #302).

Brugger and Ryan then make it all about the “very difficult to act differently” bit. They say that a sinner’s “difficulty in following [the moral law] might well reduce his culpability (‘responsibility … is not the same in all cases’), but it will not reduce it to the point of making the sin less than mortal, since the three conditions for mortal sin—grave matter, deliberate consent, and sufficient reflection—are met.”

But who said that the three conditions are met? The purpose of Amoris Laetitia chapter 8 is to discern whether or not all three conditions are met in particular cases. When deliberate consent and sufficient reflection are present, then the culpability of the person is not mitigated.

This is a fragmented reading of Amoris Laetitia. Before the “very difficult to act differently” bit, Francis had just discussed the mitigating factors that diminish full knowledge and full consent. It’s precisely because those mitigating factors diminish full knowledge and full consent that people might find it “very difficult to act differently” and that’s the reason why we must “recognize” that “the responsibility. . . is not the same in all cases.”

Discipline or Doctrine?

In their article, Brugger and Ryan admit that the previous sacramental practice, laid out in Familiaris Consortio by Pope St. John Paul II, is referred to as “custom/practice/discipline.” I agree with this and explicitly spell it out in my book:

Still, the question remains: does Amoris Laetitia contradict Familia­ris Consortio or not? Of course, the answer to this question depends on whether we are talking about matters of doctrine or discipline. … Are we dealing with doctrine or discipline? Familiaris Consortio is very clear that the church is “reaffirming her practice.” Therefore we are dealing with a “practice,” a matter of sacramental discipline (pp. 153—154).

However, Brugger and Ryan then shift their argument, attempting to show that Amoris Laetitia isn’t merely about sacramental discipline but is instead “settled a priori by doctrine.”

They say: “Though John Paul refers to the traditional exclusion as a discipline, he goes on to assert that the discipline ‘is based upon Sacred Scripture’; and he identifies as a reason for excluding these individuals not only the risk of scandal, but more importantly, the fact that ‘their state and condition of life objectively contradict that union of love between Christ and the Church which is signified and effected by the Eucharist.’”

Supposedly, Amoris Laetitia’s sacramental discipline would contradict this settled doctrine. Yet, as I write in my book:

So, does Amoris contradict these two doctrinal statements? The an­swer is “no.” Amoris Laetitia does not say that the previous sacramental discipline was not based on sacred scripture. The fact that it instituted a new sacramental discipline does not mean that the previous one was not based on sacred scripture, just like it does not mean that the new discipline is not based on the deposit of the faith. . . Likewise, Amoris Laetitia never says that the divorced and remar­ried person’s state in life does not objectively contradict the union be­tween Christ and the church. There is no textual evidence for this claim. In fact, Amoris Laetitia does indeed proclaim the analogous nature be­tween marriage and the union of Christ and the church [in Amoris Laetitia #72—73]. . .  Hence, we cannot affirm that Amoris Laetitia contradicts the doctrinal point that the divorced and remarried couple’s “state and condition of life objectively contradict that union of love between Christ and the Church which is signified and effected by the Eucharist.” We can say, however, that Amoris Laetitia develops and complements this statement, by showing that this analogy is “imperfect,” since the couple is composed of sinful people who can never become as perfect as Christ (pp. 155—156).

Repeatedly throughout their article, Brugger and Ryan reiterate that “the traditional eucharistic exclusion has never been conditioned upon subjective culpability.” They make a distinction between the “subjective” perspective of the sinner and the “objective standard on which to base the judgment of what to do.”

By doing so, they fall into the very trap I warn against in my book:

[T]he papal critic will usually (and correctly) point out that the previous sacramental discipline was never about subjective guilt. Rather, the divorced and re­married were excluded because their state in life objectively contradicts Catholic marriage. From this correct assessment, he will incorrectly extrapolate that it is not possible, therefore, to institute a new sacramen­tal discipline not taking into account solely the objective state, but also subjective guilt. Of course, we have already established that disciplines can vary over time and even contradict each other, as long as they do not contradict doctrine. But if disciplines cannot contradict doctrine, how can they be contradictory among themselves? One of the ways (if not the only way) this can be achieved is if both disciplines draw their conclusions from different parts of doctrine. Mind you, the doctrine is the same, but it has different parts: in our example, one part is the objectively evil nature of sin and the other part is the sub­jective guilt of the sinner. One discipline can ground itself in the former and another discipline can ground itself in the latter. Since, as we have al­ready seen, both parts of doctrine are not contradictory, then neither discipline contradicts doctrine. Ergo, both disciplines are valid (pp. 157).

Faithfulness and “the good of the children”

Brugger and Ryan take issue with Amoris Laetitia’s footnote 329, which quotes Gaudium et Spes by saying: “In such situations, many people, knowing and accepting the possibility of living ‘as brothers and sisters’ which the Church offers them, point out that if certain expressions of intimacy are lacking, ‘it often happens that faithfulness is endangered and the good of the children suffers’ (Second Vatican Ecumenical Council, Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World Gaudium et Spes, 51).”

They then establish that this Gaudium et Spes citation is faulty since it “supplies a reason for concluding that living more coniugale can in this case be morally legitimate,” when that conclusion “is the polar opposite of John Paul’s teaching.”

But, as I write in my book:

It must be pointed out, Francis is not necessarily validating this idea, but simply exposing the fact that many people, who accepted the possibility of living “as brother and sis­ter,” pointed out this problem (p. 81).

Also relevant in my book:

[In Gaudium et Spes] the council mentions that, in cases “where the intimacy of married life is broken off, its faithfulness can sometimes be imperiled and its quality of fruitfulness ruined, for then the upbringing of children and the courage to accept new ones are both endangered.” It is noteworthy that the council does not mention them approvingly, but to warn these couples against those who would presume to offer “dishonor­able solutions” to these problems (artificial contraception and abortion). Nevertheless, even if the council does not justify these solutions, it still recognizes the breaking of intimacy as a problem that couples have to deal with. In so doing, the council writes its document with the exact same wording as Francis (p. 81).

Brugger and Ryan further argue that Gaudium et Spes “is addressing short-term abstinence chosen by persons who are validly married,” and is, therefore, not “relevant to problems of intimacy between divorced and civilly remarried persons.” Nevertheless, I explain in my book:

Some may argue that Gaudium et Spes is dealing here with couples with a valid Catholic marriage, not divorced and remarried couples. This is irrelevant for the fol­lowing reason: The document mentions the breaking off of intimacy as an occasion of sin for these couples, regarding the temptations of abortion and artificial contracep­tion. The same holds true for the divorced and remarried: the breaking off of intimacy leads to occasion of other sins, as explained previously. These other sins are the focus of both quotes (that in a situation of divorce and remarriage is an objective situation of sin is explained elsewhere in Amoris Laetitia, as I previously said) (n. 44).

Brugger and Ryan seem to believe that, since the second union is not valid, considerations about whether the lack of intimacy would lead to “further sin” are moot. Otherwise, that would “problematically suggest that the difficulty of staying faithful to one’s first marriage could justify remaining in an objectively adulterous relationship as a way of avoiding falling into further sin.”

Yet, my book addresses this:

Francis is not saying that following the law is sinful in itself, but that doing so could drive the person to be thrust into a position where he would be prone to further sins. This is undeniable, if we understand that a breakdown of a family (even one built on the basis of a remarriage following a divorce) will un­doubtedly lead to problems where the person will probably sin (like, for instance, engaging in heated arguments with his or her partner and chil­dren). Again, this does not justify the decision, but it certainly mitigates the culpability of someone who hesitates to follow the church’s directives (p. 73).

Distinguishing situations

Brugger and Ryan also disagree with Amoris Laetitia #298: “The discernment of pastors must always take place ‘by adequately distinguishing’, with an approach which ‘carefully discerns situations.’ We know that no ‘easy recipes’ exist.”

They argue that “although situations are dissimilar in some respects, they are similar in one critically important pastoral respect. Because all are instances of putatively valid marriages breaking down and new relationships being taken up, all of them have in common that sexual activity in these new relationships would involve grave matter.”

But again, this is not the point. As I said above, no one is questioning that these relationships involve “grave matter.” The “distinguishing” and “discerning” are applied to the issue of subjective culpability, which Brugger and Ryan exclude from the sacramental calculus.

For example, elsewhere in their article, Brugger and Ryan again critically mention Amoris Laetitia #298, where it says that “because these individuals express ‘proven fidelity’ and ‘Christian commitment,’ they ‘should not be pigeonholed or fit into overly rigid classifications.’”

They argue that “‘fidelity’ and ‘commitment’ here can be understood at best only in an extremely narrow sense. They do refer to being faithful to a commitment, but to one that should not have been made because it violated and continues to violate an earlier commitment to one’s valid spouse”

However, in my book, I highlight that when Amoris Laetitia #298 warns against rigidly categorizing all divorced and remarried individuals, it illustrates this point by contrasting two situations: 1) “a second union consolidated over time, with new children, proven fidelity, generous self giving, Christian com­mitment, a consciousness of its irregularity and of the great difficulty of going back without feeling in conscience that one would fall into new sins”; and 2) “a new union aris­ing from a recent divorce, with all the suffering and confusion which this entails for children and entire families, or the case of someone who has consistently failed in his obligations to the family.”

In my book, I go on to explain:

This is the context in which the pope presents the case of someone who, in conscience, feels he would fall into new sins. It is done to contrast those two different situations. Can anyone really suggest these two are completely overlapping vis-à-vis subjective culpability? (p. 73)

No. Not even Brugger and Ryan dare to argue so. In their article, they write that this passage reminds “pastors of the obvious fact that not all situations are alike.” In my book, I continue this train of thought:

Either way, and lest there would be any doubts, after giving these examples, the pope im­mediately points out: “It must remain clear that this is not the ideal which the Gospel proposes for marriage and the family.” (p. 73)

Judgment of conscience and excusing oneself from the moral law

Brugger and Ryan—like many critics of the Pope—also object to this part of Amoris Laetitia:

Yet conscience can do more than recognize that a given situation does not correspond objectively to the overall demands of the Gospel. It can also recognize with sincerity and honesty what for now is the most generous response which can be given to God, and come to see with a certain moral security that it is what God himself is asking amid the concrete complexity of one’s limits, while yet not fully the objective ideal (Amoris Laetitia #303).

In their article, the authors place this quote in a subsection titled “Can a sound judgment of conscience ever excuse a person from following the moral law?”

In chapter 6 of my book—where I deal with misinterpretations—I also address the erroneous idea that “Amoris Laetitia Says a Person’s Conscience May Discern That God Wills Him to Continue in an Objectively Sinful State”:

The most fundamental flaw in this interpretation is in assuming that “will of God” here refers to the “not yet fully objective ideal” situation (i.e., remaining in sin) and not to the “most generous response that can be given to God” “for now”. . . In other words, the will of God is not for the sin to continue, but for the sinner to give a response to God, even if this response is imperfect. This means the sinner will not become perfected instantly, but undergo a progressive path toward the Christian ideal. If this path is progressive, then the objective situation of sin may persist for some time. It is obvi­ously the will of God, however, that the sinner should begin this path rather than stay where he is, or else he will never live a moral life (p. 78—79).

Brugger and Ryan also object to the wording “objective ideal”, which would suggest “that what is at stake is only an ideal rather than the infallibly taught moral norm that sex outside of valid marriage is always gravely wrong.” But again, in my book I mention:

[T]he Latin version of the text uses the word oblationem (“oblation”). Therefore, God is actually requesting a sacrifice: the sacrifice that is possible for the sinner as a first step towards the objec­tivum exemplar (“objective example,” not “objective ideal”) (p. 79).

The authors also bring up the Council of Trent’s “defined teaching that God always offers people the grace to live according to the moral law,” as if that contradicted what Francis said above. Once more, I have a reply in my book:

By saying that an imperfect response, “while not yet fully the objective ideal,” is “the most generous response which can be given God,” the pope would allegedly be saying that God would not be granting sufficient grace for the sinner to stop sinning. This would be a contradiction of the Council of Trent. Of course, it does not contradict Trent, but only a personal interpre­tation of Trent by people in modern times. According to this personal in­terpretation of Trent, a sinner would never sin if he really wanted to stop sinning, for God would always provide enough grace for the sinner to immediately achieve this. This wrong interpretation of Trent flies in the face of reality itself; otherwise people would not struggle with their sins (p. 80).

I devote a whole subsection of chapter 13 of my book to the Council of Trent. There, I explain that Pope Francis, rather than contradicting Trent, seamlessly weaves it together with a statement from Familiaris Consortio on the law of gradualness—developing Trent’s teaching rather than opposing it.

I also point out that Amoris Laetitia #295 itself says that “the law is itself a gift of God which points out the way, a gift for everyone without exception; it can be followed with the help of grace.”

It is interesting that even Brugger and Ryan noted what Francis said in Amoris Laetitia #295 about the law being a “gift for everyone without exception.” But then they wrongly conclude that “such a claim would also contradict AL’s own statement” and that it “is by no means clear how that statement can be reconciled with the supposition that these individuals cannot give to God the more generous response of avoiding adultery.”

They identify an alleged contradiction and immediately assume it proves their case. Never do they pause to consider whether the contradiction arises not from Amoris Laetitia itself, but from their own flawed interpretation. They see this supposed contradiction as validation of their argument when, in reality, it undermines it. As I write:

We should avoid interpretations leading to unnec­essary contradictions when interpreting a text. . .  Instead of believing that Francis is being self-contradictory or confusing, we should take what he is saying at face value and acknowledge that we cannot interpret Amoris Laetitia through those errors (p. 173).

“Should” vs. “Admitting”

Lastly, Brugger and Ryan try to turn the tables by framing “the question in terms of whether a person should receive the Eucharist, and speak of admitting a person to the Eucharist only secondarily.”

They then go on to mention how divorced and remarried Catholics should not receive the Eucharist, even if they fulfil the conditions laid out in Amoris Laetitia. They do so by taking recourse to arguments that I have rebutted above, like the fact that their “state and condition of life objectively contradict that union of love between Christ and the Church which is signified and effected by the Eucharist” (which, as we have seen, was the basis underlying the previous discipline, but not the current one).

Brugger and Ryan also do so by resorting to the problem of scandal, or to all kinds of imagined “disastrous consequences” that may arise if the “priest’s assessment of subjective culpability may be mistaken.” I devote a whole chapter—chapter 8—to the problem of scandal.

I would, however, highlight that an erroneous assessment of subjective culpability is not the only thing that can have “disastrous consequences.” Brugger and Ryan’s stance can do so too.

In chapter 16, I present a case-study where withholding the Eucharist has led to severe family turmoil, driven people away from the faith, and even predisposed someone toward suicide. As I write elsewhere:

If a divorced and remarried person is set on a course of conversion that would eventually lead him to change his life, and then desists from that course because someone with no authority has kept him from the Eu­charist, when the pope has allowed it, then what happened was scandal (p. 113).

These “disastrous consequences” are seldom considered by people like Brugger and Ryan. Yet, they pose a real danger for the salvation of souls.

On the contrary, Pope Francis wants sacramental grace to be received precisely by those who will most benefit from it (especially taking into consideration that they are not in mortal sin):

We must remember: the Holy Father does not validate this decision. It is still an “objective situation of sin.” However, the subjective culpability is certainly diminished, so that we cannot really say this person is in mortal sin. If this person is not in mortal sin, he or she may receive the Eucharist, not as a “prize,” but as “medicine and nourishment” to be able to attain strength through sacramental grace (p. 77).

So, should these sinners receive the Eucharist? If they are not in mortal sin, yes, they really should. But what if they are caught up in a situation of sin? Even then, they should commune all the more. They can only begin their journey back to the faith with the help of sacramental grace. Withholding it from them will not help; it will only hinder their return.

Conclusion

It’s important to note that I’ve kept references to my book to a minimum here, in order to avoid making this article even longer than it already is. My arguments are much more thoroughly developed and detailed in the book, and they address each of Brugger and Ryan’s objections more comprehensively.

Finally, at the end of my book, I write with hope:

However, if this book will serve to disentangle the discussion from its present unfortunate state, and if it helps to dispel confusion and ameliorate the climate of suspicion against the successor of Peter, then my mission has been accomplished (p. 261).

After reading Brugger and Ryan’s article, I can only sadly conclude that the debate remains stuck in the same “unfortunate state” as before. Despite years of responses from myself and many others, these arguments continue to circulate unchallenged in certain Catholic circles.

Throughout their piece, Brugger and Ryan call for so-called “ambiguities” to be resolved and claim to welcome efforts to reconcile Amoris Laetitia with orthodox doctrine. Yet they seem unaware—or unwilling to acknowledge—the many attempts that have already done exactly that.

Worse, their resistance may stem from the fact that they rightly recognize Amoris Laetitia as allowing communion in cases they personally believe should be excluded.

Instead of engaging with clarifications already provided, they do violence to the text by imposing an obviously incorrect reading. They then label the inevitable contradictions that result from this course of action as “ambiguities” in need of further reconciliation— even if doing so is impossible in the terms they are demanding.

Meanwhile, outlets like Catholic World Report continue publishing articles like theirs, while perspectives that affirm the orthodoxy of Amoris Laetitia—in line with the Pope’s manifest mind and will—rarely, if ever, appear on such websites.

This is especially troubling because these alternative viewpoints are the ones that should take precedence, as they are supportive, not critical, of an authoritative, official, papal document. A Catholic publication should prioritize these perspectives over those that seek to undermine it. Unfortunately, this is not so.

This imbalance fosters an echo chamber, creating the false impression that the debate remains frozen in 2017 and that no reasonable counterarguments have been made. This echo chamber is, therefore, impervious to the very clarifications that Brugger and Ryan supposedly long for.

But whether these authors acknowledge it or not, or whether they agree with it or not, the reality is that these claims were debunked long ago. Catholic discourse has moved forward. They, however, remain stuck in the past. To borrow a phrase from Austen Ivereigh in 2016:

But even as they insist that there is a debate to be had, a case to answer, a matter to be settled, the train is leaving the station, and they are left on the platform, waving their arms.

For those interested in a deeper analysis of this debate, my book The Orthodoxy of Amoris Laetitia is available here.

An earlier version of this article was published at Pedro Gabriel’s personal website.

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Photo by Laura Ockel on Unsplash.