Posted on 06/11/2005 7:27:43 AM PDT by sionnsar
Ten years ago or so I dreamed that I was an Orthodox priest. If you had asked me even three years ago what if I would become if I ever decided to leave the Episcopal Church, I would have replied “Eastern Orthodox.” Yet today I find myself becoming what I truly never seriously considered until the past two years.
Why did I not choose to become Orthodox? Who but God can answer? All such matters are a mystery, a mystery between the mystery of the human heart and the mystery of the Holy Trinity. Rational analysis takes one only so far. All I really know is that during the past two years, as I intently studied both Orthodoxy and Catholicism, I found myself increasingly drawn, against my will and desire, and certainly to my amazement, to Catholicism.
I love the liturgy and sacramental life of the Orthodox Church. It speaks to the depths of my heart. I long to pray the Divine Liturgy and be formed by its music, poetry, beaity, and ritual.
I love the integration of theology, dogma, spirituality, and asceticism within Orthodoxy. There is a wholeness to Orthodox experience that is compelling, powerful, and attractive on many different levels. This wholeness refuses any bifurcation between mind and heart and invites the believer into deeper reconciliation in Christ by the Spirit. This wholeness is something that Western Christians particularly need, as we confront and battle the corrosive powers of Western modernity and secularism.
I love the reverence and devotion Orthodoxy gives to the saints and church fathers, who are experienced in the Church as living witnesses to the gospel of Christ Jesus. I love the icons.
And I love the theological writings of many Orthodox writers, especially Alexander Schmemann and Georges Florovsky. For all these reasons and for many more, it would have been oh so very easy for me to become Orthodox.
But two features in particular gave me pause.
First, I am troubled by Orthodoxy’s “Easternness.” The coherence and power of Orthodoxy is partially achieved by excluding the Western tradition from its spiritual and theological life. One is hard-pressed to find an Orthodox writer who speaks highly of the Western Church, of her saints, ascetics, and theologians, of her manifold contributions to Christian religion and Western civilization. According to Orthodox consensus, Western Christianity went off the tracks somewhere along the way and must now be judged as a heresy. Understandably, Eastern Christianity considers itself the touchstone and standard by which the Western tradition is to be judged.
To put it simply, Orthodoxy has no real place for St Augustine. He is commemorated as a saint, but the bulk of his theological work is rejected. The noted scholar, Fr John Romanides, has been particularly extreme. I raised my concern about Orthodoxy and the West a year ago in my blog article Bad, bad Augustine. In that article I cited one of the few Orthodox scholars, David B. Hart, who has been willing to address Orthodox caricature of Western theologians:
The most damaging consequence, however, of Orthodoxy’s twentieth-century pilgrimage ad fontes—and this is no small irony, given the ecumenical possibilities that opened up all along the way—has been an increase in the intensity of Eastern theology’s anti-Western polemic. Or, rather, an increase in the confidence with which such polemic is uttered. Nor is this only a problem for ecumenism: the anti-Western passion (or, frankly, paranoia) of Lossky and his followers has on occasion led to rather severe distortions of Eastern theology. More to the point here, though, it has made intelligent interpretations of Western Christian theology (which are so very necessary) apparently almost impossible for Orthodox thinkers. Neo-patristic Orthodox scholarship has usually gone hand in hand with some of the most excruciatingly inaccurate treatments of Western theologians that one could imagine—which, quite apart form the harm they do to the collective acuity of Orthodox Christians, can become a source of considerable embarrassment when they fall into the hands of Western scholars who actually know something of the figures that Orthodox scholars choose to caluminiate. When one repairs to modern Orthodox texts, one is almost certain to encounter some wild mischaracterization of one or another Western author; and four figures enjoy a special eminence in Orthodox polemics: Augustine, Anselm, Thomas Aquinas, and John of the Cross.
Ironically, the various contributions by Perry Robinson and Daniel Jones, here on Pontifications and elsewhere, have heightened my concern. Both have sought, in various ways, to demonstrate that Western theology is incompatible with the catholic faith. While I have neither the training nor wit to follow many of their arguments, I am convinced that their project is wrong. Both presume that one can know the catholic faith independent of ecclesial commitment and formation. If one insists, for example, that St Maximos the Confessor, read through a post-schism Eastern lens, is our authoritative guide to a proper reading of the sixth Ecumenical Council, then of course Augustinian Catholicism will come off looking badly, despite the fact that Maximos was himself a great supporter of the prerogatives of Rome and despite the fact that Rome was instrumental in the defeat of monotheletism. Yet Catholicism embraces both Augustine and Maximos as saints, even though it is clear that Maximos has had minimal influence upon Western reflection, at least until very recently. Clearly Rome did not, and does not, understand the dogmatic decrees of III Constantinople as contradicting Western christological and trinitarian commitments. As much as I respect Perry and Daniel and am grateful for both their erudition and civility and their stimulating articles on these matters, it seems to me that their conclusions are more determined by their theological and ecclesial starting points than by “neutral” scholarship. And one thing I do know: there is always a brighter guy somewhere who will contest one’s favorite thesis.
Neither Orthodoxy nor Catholicism, in my judgment, can be conclusively identified as the one and true Church by these kinds of rational arguments, as interesting and important as they may be in themselves. Arguments and reasons must be presented and considered as we seek to make the necessary choice between Rome and Constantinople, yet ultimately we are still confronted by mystery and the decision and risk of faith.
If the catholicity of Orthodoxy can only be purchased by the practical expulsion of Augustine and Aquinas, then, at least in my own mind, Orthodoxy’s claim to be the one and true Church is seriously undermined. A truly catholic Church will and must include St Augustine and St Maximos the Confessor, St Gregory Palamas and St Thomas Aquinas. A truly catholic Church will keep these great theologians in conversation with each other, and their differences and disagreements will invite the Church to a deeper and more comprehensive understanding of the divine mysteries. To set one against the other is not catholic, but partisan.
Second, I am troubled by the absence of a final court of appeal in controversies of faith and morals. We Anglicans are now witnessing first-hand the disintegration of a world-wide communion partially because of the absence of a divinely instituted organ of central authority. In the first millenium the Church employed the Ecumenical Council to serve as this final authority; but for the past thirteen centuries Orthodoxy has been unable to convene such a council. Is it a matter of logistics, or is the matter perhaps more serious, a question of constitutional impotence? Or has God simply protected the Orthodox from serious church-dividing heresies during this time, thereby temporarily obviating the need for such a council? Regardless, it seems to me that if Orthodoxy truly is the one Church of Jesus Christ in the exclusive sense it claims to be, then not only would it be confident in its power and authority to convene an Ecumenical Council, but it would have done so by now.
Yet as Orthodoxy begins to seriously engage the worldview and values of modernity (and post-modernity), the need for a final tribunal will perhaps become more evident. Consider just one example—contraception. It used to be the case that all Orthodox theologians would have roundly denounced most (all?) forms of contraception. But over the past twenty years or so, we have seen a growing diversity on this issue amongst Orthodox thinkers. Some state that this is really a private matter that needs to be decided between the believer and his parish priest. Clearly this privatization of the issue accords with modern sensibilities; but I am fearful of the consequences. Given the absence of a final court of appeal, does Orthodoxy have any choice but to simply accept diversity on many of the burning ethical questions now confronting us? Can Orthodoxy speak authoritatively to any of them?
For the past two years I have struggled to discern whether to remain an Anglican (in some form or another) or to embrace either Orthodoxy or Catholicism. Both Orthodoxy and Catholicism make mutually exclusive claims to be the one and true Church of Jesus Christ. We are confronted by a stark either/or choice. An Anglican is tempted to retreat to a branch theory of the Church, and on that basis make a decision on which tradition appeals to him most; but both Orthodoxy and Catholicism emphatically reject all such branch theories. There is only one visible Church. To become either Orthodox or Catholic means accepting the claim of the respective communion to ecclesial exclusivity. How do we rightly judge between them?
One thing we cannot do. We cannot pretend that we can assume a neutral vantage point. Oh how much easier things would be for all of us if God would call us on our telephones right now and tell us what to do!
The Pope convenes the College of Cardinals in emergency session. “I’ve got some good news and some bad news,” he says. “The good news is this: I just received a phone call from God!” Everyone cheers. “But here’s the bad news: God lives in Salt Lake City.”
I cannot see the Church from God’s perspective. I am faced with a choice. Good arguments can be presented for both Orthodoxy and Catholicism; none appear to be absolutely decisive and coercive. Moreoever, considerations that seem important to me are probably irrelevant to the large majority of people. “The Church is a house with a hundred gates,” wrote Chesterton; “and no two men enter at exactly the same angle.” Finally, I can only rely upon my reason, my intuitions, my feelings, my faith, under the grace and mercy of God. May God forgive me if I have chosen wrongly.
(cont)
Can. 3. It has been decided likewise that if anyone says that for this reason the Lord said: "In my Father's house there are many mansions": that it might be understood that in the kingdom of heaven there will be some middle place or some place anywhere where the blessed infants live who departed from this life without baptism, without which they cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven, which is life eternal, let him be anathema. For when the Lord says: "Unless a man be born again of water and the Holy Ghost, he shall not enter into the kingdom of God", what Catholic will doubt that he will be a partner of the devil who has not deserved to be a coheir of Christ? For he who lacks the right part will without doubt run into the left. (Council of Mileum II, 416)
It (The Roman Church) teaches ... that the souls ... of those who die in mortal sin, or with only original sin descend immediately into hell; however, to be punished with different penalties and in different places. (Pope John XXII, Letter "Nequaquam sine dolere", To the Armenians, Nov. 21, 1321)
If what We have said up to now concerns the protection and care of natural life, much more so must it concern the supernatural life, which the newly born receives with Baptism. In the present economy there is no other way to communicate that life to the child who has not attained the use of reason. Above all, the state of grace is absolutely necessary at the moment of death without it salvation and supernatural happiness—the beatific vision of God—are impossible. An act of love is sufficient for the adult to obtain sanctifying grace and to supply the lack of baptism; to the still unborn or newly born this way is not open. Therefore, if it is considered that charity to our fellowman obliges us to assist him in the case of necessity, then this obligation is so much the more important and urgent as the good to be obtained or the evil to be avoided is the greater, and in the measure that the needy person is incapable of helping or saving himself with his own powers; and so it is easy to understand the great importance of providing for the baptism of the child deprived of complete reason who finds himself in grave danger or at death's threshold. (Pius XII, Allocution to Midwives, Oct. 29, 1951)
The puzzlement here, at least between the Orthodox and the Augustinians, was about the nature of Original Sin and the effects of that nature. To understand those, and in particular, to avoid a caricature of Catholicism that we saw on occasion on this thread, one must study the post-Augustinian teaching.
"Aren't the newborn (along with righteous pagans, etc.) destined to heaven through the operation of invincible ignorance?"
Perhaps you misspoke, which seems the simplest explanation for your later posts which don't seem to share this quite mistaken thought.
We must be careful not to veer into thinking as if Christ Himself is bound by His Sacraments.
Yet we also must be careful not to veer into thinking that He will not keep His promises. "Amen, amen, I say to thee, unless a man be born again of water and the Holy Ghost, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God." "Amen, amen, I say unto you: except you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, you shall not have life in you."
One must be careful not to confuse what is frequently called Augustinism, especially by the Jansenists, Calvinists, and Lutherans, and what Catholics have taken from St. Augustine and incorporated as an explanation of the Faith.
Every system of grace expounded in Catholic theology, Augustinism, Thomism, Molinism, Congruism, Syncretism (all approved), Jansenism (condemned) claims to be teaching the exact truths St. Augustine attempted to communicate. Obviously St. Augustine did not teach all (or perhaps even any) of them, nor can they all be correct.
In any case, Catholics are not "Augustinians".
Noting your incredulous tone that I had never heard of this feast day in all my 12 years of Catholic school, I've tried finding more info on this.
I've searched various Catholic websites looking for May 31 and as always that date is for celebrating the Visitation to Elizabeth.
Here are the links where I looked:
Can you point me to an official Roman Catholic calendar that celebrates this Mediatrix of all Graces day?
The truth is that they go to Limbus Infantium, which is the state of perfect natural happiness. They are not in a state of mortal sin, as was alleged here and are not condemned to suffering.
I will not re-argue about the Limbo on this thread when I presented the teaching of the Catholic Church on the subject on a dedicated thread: Limbo
Indeed they aren't. St. Augustine's teaching on the Original Sin is what is called Augustinianism; the Catholic doctrine on Original Sin was in consensus with the Greek Fathers prior to that, and returned to essentially the same teaching with St. Thomas Aquinas.
The term "Augustinian" is frequently used in the same sense I use it, not to discard the immense work of St. Augustine's overall, but to point out elements of his teaching that fell outside of the approved doctrine, by the Catholic Encyclopedia article I am referring to, Limbo.
The Catholic Church essentially accepts St. Augustine's teachings on Original Sin as he formulated it. And these teachings are in consensus with the Greek Fathers and St. Thomas Aquinas.
See Denzinger 101 and 102 (Council of Carthage, AD 418), 109 (Epistle of Pope Zozimus to the Eastern Churches, AD 418), 130 (Catalog of Authoritative Statements of the Past Bishops of the Holy See Concerning the Grace of God), 174 and 175 (Council of Orange).
Similarly, there is the pronouncement of Pope St. Gelasius I:
"For the purpose of instruction, the holy, that is, the Roman Church, does ... regularly accept ... the works of blessed Caecilius Cyprian and in the same way the works of Gregory Nazianzen, Basil, Athanasius, John (Chrysostom), Theophilus, Cyril of Alexandria, Hilary, Ambrose, Augustine, Jerome, and Prosper" (Epistle 42, "De recipiendis et non recipiendis libris", AD 495)
The Visitation was traditionally kept on July 2 (which seems odd since that falls after the birthday of St. John the Baptist on June 24). The May 31 date is a post-Vatican II reshuffling of the Calendar.
Pope Benedict XV granted a feast and Mass on May 31 for "The Blessed Virgin Mary, Mediatrix of All Graces". Look in any traditional Latin Mass handmissal.
In the Catholic Encyclopedia article I linked in 280 a distinction is drawn between pre-Augustinian thought, St. Augustine's teaching, and post-Augistinian, particularly Thomist, teaching on Limbo. Do you think that the article is incorrect, or that the distinction that exists is covered by your caveat "essentially accepts"?
Church teaching on the nature of Limbo is speculative. Teaching on Original Sin is dogmatic.
Obviously, theological speculation about Limbo can change and is the subject of disagreement. One need only compare the lot of those dying in Original Sin alone in the Summa of St. Thomas and the Divine Comedy of Dante.
The theology of Original Sin is not subject to change, nor did it originate in St. Augustine. The nature of Original Sin is perfectly clear in the writings of Origen and St. Cyprian, 150 years before St. Augustine.
The "essentially accepts" refers to some of St. Augustine's speculations on the roles of grace and free will in the process of justification, some of his theorizings on the nature of predestination and reprobation, etc. It is to be expected that St. Augustine expressed himself in more than one way, and perhaps not in the exact manner the Church ultimately adopted as a guidepost, since he was the one who more than all the others combined, worked through these issues in the struggle with Pelagian heresy, sometimes coming back to change or tweak his position, as in his book of Retractions.
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