260. Catholic and Evangelical Charismatics United?

Building a bridge between institutional Roman Catholicism and the Pentecostal and Evangelical churches. This is the mission of the Roman Catholic charismatic movement as described in Filippo D’Alessandro’s book, God’s Dream: Christian Unity in the Power of the Spirit (Italian edition: Il sogno di Dio. L’unità dei cristiani nella potenza dello Spirito, Rimini: Edizioni Rinnovamento nello Spirito Santo, 2026).

The author speaks on this subject with authority, as he serves as one of the regional directors of the Rinnovamento nello Spirito Santo (“Renewal in the Holy Spirit,” i.e., the Italian Roman Catholic Charismatic movement) and as one of its national delegates for Christian unity. The book brings together various contributions, all aimed at illustrating the purpose of charismatic ecumenism: in the words of Pope Francis during a meeting with Pentecostal pastors in 2020, it is a matter of “creating communion and collaboration among the various charismatic communities” (35). Or, in the author’s own words, “to create connections between our Pentecostal brothers and sisters and the priests and bishops in the region” and thus to serve as “a link” (200).

The book does not offer a history of the Roman Catholic charismatic movement that began in 1967, but it does contain several significant stories intertwined with the author’s biography, such as Pope Francis’s meetings with Italian and international Pentecostal leaders. The Pentecostal movement as a whole is viewed as a “current of grace” that cuts across denominational lines, and the baptism of the Holy Spirit associated with it is seen as an “ecumenical grace” (91).

In other chapters, D’Alessandro sets forth the Roman Catholic view of the charismatic experience. It is situated within the sacramental journey and is seen as an activation, a reawakening, or a “thawing” of the sacrament of Baptism. Therefore, in the Roman Catholic understanding, it in no way calls into question the hierarchical and sacramental structure of the Roman Catholic Church, nor the Marian dogmas and the devotions associated with them. So to speak, it integrates the charismatic experience into Roman Catholic life by adding something extra but taking nothing away.
 
D’Alessandro is an admirer of Pope Francis and particularly praises the encyclical Fratelli tutti (“All Brothers,” 2020), establishing the universal brotherhood regardless of different religions, and the Abu Dhabi Document on Human Fraternity (2019), signed jointly with the Grand Imam of Al-Azhar, where the diversity of religions is presented as the will of God. For him, ecumenical dialogue and interreligious dialogue, though distinct, go hand in hand because both express the catholicity of Roman Catholicism—its longing for the unity of mankind.
 
At times, his language is reminiscent of the Gospels (when, for example, he speaks of the communion of those who are “born-again,” 116), but the framework of his thought is Roman Catholic because being born again for him coincides with being baptized—not necessarily with being a believer in Jesus Christ. From a Roman Catholic perspective, every baptized person is born again regardless of his/her faith in Christ. But is this the case according to the Bible?
 
When offering suggestions on how to organize events and meetings with Pentecostal Evangelicals, he advises avoiding devotional expressions related to Mary and the saints, references to sensitive topics such as indulgences and purgatory, as well as Marian apparitions and private revelations (204). The intention, therefore, is—if not to conceal, then at least to try to downplay—the specific characteristics of Roman Catholicism.
 
Without wishing to question people’s good faith, one cannot help but wonder whether these practices are spiritually honest. Is dialogue truly being promoted if one lacks the courage to say and do the things one believes? Furthermore, how can Evangelicals who participate in these gatherings be so naive as to think that there is authentic Evangelical spirituality if the faith of Charismatic Catholics does not abandon the non-biblical—if not anti-biblical—elements of its creed and practice?
 
In the book’s introduction, Bishop Derio Olivero, president of the Italian Episcopal Conference’s Commission for Ecumenism, writes that the fear of ecumenism stems “from a fragile or poorly understood identity” (9). This is not necessarily true. In fact, the opposite is true. The more solid one’s evangelical identity is (i.e., grounded in Scripture and its message), the more one recognizes that ecumenical attempts which hide identities or cloak them in charismatic language without reforming them from within do not correspond to the Lord Jesus’ prayer to the Father in John 17. After praying: “they may be one, even as we are one” (v. 11), the Lord goes on to say: “Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth” (v. 17). Unity and truth go together. When true dialogue takes place, neither hiding nor camouflage should occur.
 
If a person is born again, born of the Spirit, and a disciple of Jesus Christ, the Roman Catholic baggage—composed of traditions that are foreign to and contrary to Scripture—must be reformed, not simply and tactically concealed. Saying this to our charismatic Catholic friends does not mean being opposed to dialogue. It means engaging in dialogue in truth, submitting all we are and do to the Word of God. Other paths to unity are shortcuts, perhaps useful for Roman Catholic ecumenism, but not for biblical unity.

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259. “Excommunicated!” When the Roman Prevails Over the Catholic

But how can this be? Roman Catholicism teaches that we are “all brothers” (Pope Francis’s 2020 encyclical), that we must bless everyone (the 2023 “Fiducia supplicans” declaration allowing the blessings of same-sex attracted people), that “todos, todos, todos” (all, all, all), all are children of God—and then…it excommunicates the newly appointed bishops and all the clergy of the Society of St. Pius X, who are more Roman Catholic than anyone else!?!

We’re used to a Catholicism that’s soft, understanding, inclusive, pluralistic, and accommodating. Today, hearing talk of “schism” and “excommunication” regarding the Society of St. Pius X seems incomprehensible and evokes centuries of history that seem to have been consigned to the past.

In fact, to a casual observer, what happened at the beginning of July is a facet of Roman Catholicism that, after Vatican II, we were no longer accustomed to. Yet it is a facet that is an integral and organic part of Roman Catholicism.

How can all this be explained? One must understand the markers of Rome’s identity. Catholicism, in addition to being “Catholic,” is also “Roman.” It is both at the same time. On the one hand, its catholicity is the ideal of universality, which goes hand in hand with an attitude that embraces diversity. On the other hand, its Roman identity embodies the institutional dimension expressed in the hierarchical-sacramental structure centered on the papacy.

On the one hand, it absorbs; on the other, it controls. Thus, Rome can incorporate the charismatic movement, tolerate dissenting Catholics, fraternally embrace followers of other religions, show understanding toward LGBTQ+ people, make room for the German synodal path (with its progressive impulses), incorporate the Andean fertility goddess such as Pachamama, and approve new Marian apparitions…provided that the hierarchical-sacramental structure remains untouched and the prerogatives of the “Roman” system are not threatened.

This is precisely what happened with the Society of St. Pius X. It is not their traditionalism, nor their criticism of Vatican II, nor their nostalgic interpretation of Roman Catholicism that poses a problem. In Roman Catholicism, there is room for this and much more, both on the right and on the left of the spectrum, on the traditionalist side as well as on the progressive side.
 
What led to the schism was the challenge posed to the “Roman” system. By ordaining four bishops without the Vatican’s authorization, the Society of St. Pius X claimed for itself a right that Rome considers its exclusive and non-negotiable prerogative. As long as it comes to opening space for new interpretations, diverse experiences, multiple perspectives, and varied theological and ethical paths, Roman Catholicism is welcoming, and its broad embrace expands even further. 
 
On the contrary, when the system feels its “Roman” prerogatives threatened, the harsh reaction we have witnessed unfolds: the excommunication because of “schism,” with all the canonical consequences.
 
The relations between the Roman Catholic Church and the Society of St. Pius X have a turbulent history marked by decades of bitter debate. As long as the issues remained within the realm of Vatican II interpretations, the room for maneuver allowed relations to be maintained. Now, however, the dispute has shifted to the realm of the “Roman” structure, and Rome has shown its intransigent face.
 
What does all this remind us of? It reminds us that Roman Catholicism is both Roman and Catholic. Always. Anyone who looks only at the “catholic” aspect and not at the “Roman” one (and vice versa) has understood little or nothing.
 
Since we’re talking about schism and excommunication, our thoughts inevitably turn to the Protestant Reformation. Luther was excommunicated and charged with the sin of schism. If Martin Luther had limited himself to calling for a moral reform of the clergy, a renewal of the Church’s teaching, or the formation of a new religious order, even then Rome’s catholicity would have been capable of assimilating those demands. The crux of the Reformation was that the “Roman” heart—the imperial/hierarchical/sacramental construct at the center of the system—needed to be reformed according to Scripture. This triggered Luther’s expulsion by the then-Pope.
 
Roman Catholicism oscillates between the Roman and the Catholic. Its catholicity is not defined by biblical standards, but by the preservation and implementation of its Roman interests.

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