Posted on

235. More than the heart of Jesus, the heart of Roman Catholicism. On the latest encyclical of Pope Francis


Dilexit Nos (DN, “He loved us,” a quotation from Romans 8:37) is the fourth encyclical of Francis’ pontificate signed on 24th October. After 2013’s Lumen Fidei (The Light of Faith, although written by Benedict XVI and thus not his brainchild), 2015’s Laudato si’ (Praise Be to You) on environmental issues, and 2020’s All Brothers on universal fraternity, DN takes its cue from the Roman Catholic devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus to elaborate a more general reflection on the heart, affections, and compassion in a world full of evils.
 
The encyclical consists of 5 chapters, which are made up of 220 paragraphs, and it comes out while the celebration of the 350th anniversary of the first manifestation of the Sacred Heart of Jesus to St. Margaret Mary Alacoque is still underway. Not surprisingly, the text mentions Jesus’ apparitions in Paray-le-Monial (France) between late December 1673 and June 1675. Francis also names some mystics particularly connected to this devotion: Therese of Lisieux (1873-1897) and Faustina Kowalska (1905-1938). The encyclical stitches together biblical reflections, patristic quotations, historical examples, and devotional practices that all converge at times on the human heart, other times on the heart of Christ, and always on the devotion of the “sacred heart.”
 
Devotion to the Sacred Heart is pervasive in Roman Catholic spirituality. Images of the bleeding heart, dedicated processions, mystical writings, collective imagery, and iconography in churches are all spaces imbued with this relatively modern tradition. Even the prestigious Catholic University of Milan is named after the Sacred Heart. This is to say that DN grafts onto very fertile ground for Roman Catholicism, which the pope evidently wants to enhance further.
 
In DN, the whole movement of Roman Catholicism can be seen in the watermark: there is some biblical quotation that is then elaborated in practices that take leave from the Bible as they go to focus on images and devotions that seek to “actualize” the biblical message. Through recourse, further revelations shift attention away from the biblical Christ and onto the Christ imagined by the church and mediated by it.
 
In DN, the biblical starting point flows into popular piety. The message of Scripture is blurred to make room for the world of devotions. Moreover, for the pope, popular piety is the “immune system of the church,” instead of being considered an excrescence to be always kept in check and treated with biblical antidotes.
 
St. Margaret Mary Alacoque herself, who initiated the devotion of the Sacred Heart, tells of revelations that led her to corporal mortifications (self-flagellation, sticking needles, ingesting other people’s vomit, etc.), encouragement to devote herself to the cult of Our Lady, and even to the heart of Mary (No. 176). Well, Pope Francis recalls with approval that Pius XII in 1956 stated that “the worship of the Sacred Heart expresses in an excellent way, as a sublime synthesis, our worship of Jesus Christ” (No. 79) and that it is even “a synthesis of the Gospel” (No. 83). Perhaps it is a synthesis of the Roman Catholic gospel, but certainly not the biblical gospel! Indeed, DN gives voice to the Roman Catholic account of the “Sacred Heart,” not Jesus’ heart as the Bible presents it to us.
 
This brief introduction to DN is worth concluding with a reference to a work almost contemporaneous with the Catholic apparitions of the Sacred Heart and the beginning of its devotion. The work is entitled The Heart of Christ in Heaven toward Sinners on Earth and was first published in 1651. It became the most popular work of the Puritan Thomas Goodwin (1600-1680).
 
Here, we find an excellent example of what it means to meditate on the heart of Christ biblically without giving room for spurious and misguided devotions. In the book, Goodwin sets out to show from the Scriptures that, in all His heavenly majesty, Christ is not now detached from believers and indifferent but has a very strong affection for them. Goodwin begins with the beautiful assurances given by Christ to His disciples, taking as an example of this love the washing of Christ’s feet (John 13). The heart of his argument, however, lies in the exposition of Hebrews 4:15, in which Goodwin shows that, in all His glorious holiness in heaven, Christ is not unkind toward His people; if anything, His heart beats stronger than ever with tender love for them.
 
Instead of the “sacred heart” of Dilexit Nos, so hopelessly steeped in traditions and practices that are contrary to the gospel, we need to know and experience the heart of Jesus as the Bible (sola Scriptura!) presents it.

Posted on

233. The Biblical Jubilee and the Roman Catholic Holy Year: Twins or Strangers?

In the religious world and beyond, a mobilization is underway in preparation for the 2025 Jubilee called by Pope Francis with the bull Spes non confundit (Hope does not disappoint). The Roman Catholic Church has already been preparing for some time. Millions of people plan to make some kind of “pilgrimage” to Rome or the designated places, whether secular or religious.
 
One is inundated with news but struggles to understand what is happening. After all, most people know that the word “jubilee” comes from somewhere in the Bible. The book of Leviticus, chapter 25, says that every 50 years a year was established to restore livable conditions for all. The three basic provisions of the jubilee year were: The restitution of sold property, the freeing of slaves, and the resting of the land. Clearly, this was something disruptive. The question is: How is it that the Roman Catholic Church calls what is going to happen in 2025 a “jubilee”? Is there a difference between a jubilee and a holy year? The Roman Catholic Church tends to use the two terms interchangeably, but is it legitimate to confuse them?
 
The tradition of the holy years
First of all, it should be pointed out that jubilees, from the Middle Ages onward, have also been referred to as holy years. In fact, in the medieval Catholic tradition, the idea of a “holy” year was placed side by side with that of jubilee, eventually becoming synonymous or at least an element of specification. The year in question was defined as “holy” insofar as it began, took place, and ended with sacred rites officiated by the pope or ecclesiastical authorities; by extension, the entire period delimited by somewhat sacred ceremonies was called a holy year. Actually, the latter definition better suits the congruous number of such years called by various popes over the centuries. They retain the name of the biblical jubilee, even though the measures taken and the spirituality promoted under these circumstances are more related to medieval Catholicism than the biblical message.
 
From Boniface VIII to the Present Day
Pope Boniface VIII called the first holy year in history with the bull Antiquorum habet fida relatio of February 22, 1300. The immediate occasion for this initiative was the accreditation of the rumor that was circulating more and more insistently that, in the centennial year, those who, repentant and confessed, visited the basilicas of St. Peter and St. Paul would obtain a “most full remission of sins.” The idea of redemption proper to the jubilee had morphed into that of an indulgence for the benefit of pilgrims. The influx to Rome was considerable and the granting of the “remission” was extended until the end of the year to meet everyone’s needs. The jubilee of Boniface VIII responded to popular religiosity’s need to celebrate a great cathartic event of peace and forgiveness after the troubled era of the Crusades. Among the pilgrims of this first holy year is Dante Alighieri, who referred to it in some verses of the Divine Comedy, the XVIII canto of the Inferno, and the XXXI canto of Paradise. Two years after the jubilee, Boniface VIII promulgated the famous Bull Unam sanctam in which he affirmed the supremacy of the theocratic power of the church over any other earthly institution. In this way, the widespread sentiment was satisfied and the authoritarian conception of the church was reaffirmed.
 
During the Avignonese parenthesis of the papacy (1305-1377), the expiration of the holy year was no longer linked to the centenary but was provisionally established in the order of fifty years. Thus, the jubilee of 1350 was celebrated without the presence of the pope (Clement VI) but with a strong involvement of the Roman population. But Pope Urban VI decided to set the deadline every 33 years, taking the years of Jesus’ earthly life as the yardstick; therefore, he called the holy year in 1383. Outside of any precise scanning, Boniface IX celebrated a jubilee of his own in 1390; while the coming of the centenary and the unexpected influx of pilgrims to Rome led him to repeat it in 1400. Subsequent ones were called by Martin V (1425) and Nicholas V (1450). The twenty-five-year practice was made binding by a bull of Paul II (1470). Sixtus IV took advantage of the 1475 jubilee to beautify Rome with major works such as the Sistine Chapel and the Sixtus Bridge over the Tiber River. The greatest artists of the time worked in Rome in preparation for that event. The jubilee became an event to beautify the pope’s city and to provide it with accommodations for pilgrims. In the century of the Protestant Reformation, holy years were celebrated by Alexander VI (1500), Clement VII (1525), Julius III (1550), and Gregory XIII (1575). On the latter occasion, an estimated 300,000 pilgrims from all over Europe arrived in Rome. The tone of the celebrations ranged from the pursuit of a spiritual dimension to the ostentation of ceremonial pomp and ecclesiastical power. During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, ordinary holy years were called at regular intervals by Clement VIII (1600), Urban VIII (1625), Innocent X (1650), Clement X (1675), Innocent XII (1700), Benedict XIII (1725), Benedict XIV (1750), and Pius VI (1775). The difficult situation of the Catholic Church in the Napoleonic era prevented Pius VII from holding a jubilee in 1800.
 
However, the tradition resumed in 1825 with Leo XII, only to be interrupted again in 1850 due to the events of the Roman Republic and the temporary absence of Pius IX from the Vatican. The pope himself was able to call the holy year in 1875; however, the occupation of Rome by the Italian army did not allow the celebration of public ceremonies or even the influx of crowds. The first jubilee of the 20th century was organized by Leo XIII (1900). It was followed by that of Pius XI (1925) and, in the aftermath of the end of World War II, by that of Pius XII (1950). During that year, the dogma of Mary’s Assumption into heaven was proclaimed. The last ordinary jubilee was celebrated by John Paul II (2000). The one in 2025 called by Pope Francis is thus in a long Roman Catholic tradition.
 
In addition to these twenty-six jubilees called “ordinary” jubilees, because they are more or less tied to predefined deadlines, the Catholic Church has also promoted “extraordinary” holy years to celebrate certain worthy events deemed to be of a certain importance. The custom of proclaiming holy years of an extraordinary nature dates back to the 16th century, precisely in the wake of the Protestant Reformation, which had strongly denounced the scandal of indulgences. Instead of curbing and deeply revising the doctrine and practice in question, the Catholic Church reacted by increasing initiatives to distribute indulgences. For this reason, the ordinary jubilees were no longer deemed sufficient given the considerable time lag from one to the next, and there was therefore the additional holding of extraordinary years. In the 17th century alone, forty were organized! The last ones celebrated were those of Pius XI (1933) on the occasion of the 19th centenary of the Redemption, that of John Paul II (1983) to commemorate the 1950th anniversary of the same event, and the Jubilee of Mercy called by Pope Francis in 2015-2016. Pope Wojtyla also convened a Marian year (1987), which is further evidence of the departure from the content and spirit of the biblical jubilee by the Catholic tradition of holy years, while Pope Ratzinger convened a “Pauline” one (2008-2009) to commemorate the Apostle Paul and Pope Francis one dedicated to “St. Joseph” (2020). In general, it can be said that holy years are indicators that reflect the Catholic Church’s emphases, practices, and journey over time, but have a nonexistent relationship with the biblical jubilee.
 
The Issue of Indulgences
Beyond the historical sequence of the holy years and the names of the popes to whom they are linked, it is important to point out what were and what are still the qualifying moments planned for the celebration of these anniversaries. In this regard, it can be said that a set of religious practices typical of medieval Catholicism were associated with the jubilee with the result that they ended up taking precedence over the demands posed by the jubilee itself. The holy year is more a product of Roman Catholic spirituality than of biblical jubilee. The hallmark of the holy year is medieval religiosity later elaborated over the following centuries but not faith based on Scripture.
 
Thus, the Roman Catholic jubilee is characterized primarily by a pilgrimage to Rome with an associated visit to its major basilicas and an offer of “general forgiveness” in relation to the system of ecclesiastical indulgences. At this point in the discussion, it should become clear that both prescriptions are clearly foreign to the biblical jubilee. The latter, in fact, did not involve a pilgrimage to Jerusalem or any other place. In this regard, it should be recalled that the theme of pilgrimage is a rich biblical metaphor for the Christian life, but the practice of pilgrimage to a particular place is not prescribed either for the jubilee or other circumstances. As for forgiveness connected with jubilee, it clashes with the finality of Christ’s work. By His incarnation, death, and resurrection, Jesus accomplished all that was necessary for man to receive true forgiveness. His jubilee consists of the gift of forgiveness to those who believe in Him. Because of the jubilee of the Lord Jesus, offers of forgiveness related to the ecclesiastical apparatus are useless, wrong, and anachronistic.
 
The issue of indulgences is reminiscent of the violent controversy that arose during the Protestant Reformation when not only the excesses but the very institution of indulgences was radically challenged. To the distracted eyes of most, indulgences may appear a somewhat cumbersome legacy of medieval Catholicism but deprived of legitimacy in the practice of the contemporary Roman Catholic Church. Today, one hears that indulgences are no longer offered as they have been more or less tacitly abolished. Yet, the opposite is true. In fact, the institution of indulgences is certainly one of the typical aspects of the jubilee and, as John Paul II notes in the Bull Aperite portas Redemptoris of January 6, 1983, the gift of indulgences is “proper and characteristic of the Holy Year.” It consists of the remission before God of the temporal penalty for sins granted by the church. In the Catholic view, just as Christ’s sacrifice must be “re-presented” at the Mass, so the forgiveness of the sins of the faithful must be administered periodically by the church that participates in that sacrifice. The Catholic Church, far from abolishing this much contested practice, has instead further specified and regulated it without affecting its essential features in the least.
 
To this end, after discussions on the matter by the Second Vatican Council, Paul VI promulgated the constitution Indulgentiarum doctrina (1967) and later published the Enchiridion indulgentiarum (1968) to regulate the whole issue. The latter document was updated again in 1986. In addition, the two greatest doctrinal texts of Catholicism, the 1983 Code of Canon Law (canons 992-997) and the 1992 Catechism of the Catholic Church (§§ 1471-1479), contain doctrinal definitions and pastoral provisions on the subject testifying to the extreme vitality of the doctrine and practice of indulgences even in view of the Holy Year of 2025.
 
Pope Francis’s Holy Year
As already noted, Pope Francis, prior to the one in 2025, had already proclaimed the Holy Year of Mercy in 2015. The bull calling that jubilee is titled Misericordiae Vultus (The Face of Mercy). The pope addresses the topic of indulgences in paragraphs 21-22, where he uses language that is much more personal and relational than juridical and traditional while maintaining the substance of the theology and practice of indulgences.
 
Now, in anticipation of the Jubilee of 2025, the May 9, 2024 Bull of Indiction, Spes non confundit (Hope does not disappoint), recalls the biblical text of Romans 5:5 and the theme of hope found in the New Testament. However, in addition to the formal reference, the pope hooks the Catholic event to the medieval tradition of holy years that drew inspiration from sources other than biblical ones. He speaks of a “grace event,” but this is a conception of grace that is mediated through the ecclesiastical institution that opens its “treasury” and is “merited” by pilgrims in various ancient and updated ways. The “Norms Concerning the Granting of Indulgences” issued on May 13, 2024, specify that the grace of forgiveness can be acquired through a series of devotional practices such as the traditional crossing of “holy doors” and visiting the designated churches, but also by those who “recite in their own home or there where the impediment holds them back (e.g. in the chapel of the monastery, hospital, nursing home, prison) the Lord’s Prayer, the Profession of Faith in any legitimate form and other prayers in conformity with the purposes of the Holy Year, offering up their sufferings or hardships in their own lives.” Given that we are in a digital age, the norms for the granting of indulgences have also been adapted by providing that the latter is obtainable “by abstaining, in a spirit of penance, at least during one day from futile distractions, real but also virtual, induced for example by the media and social networks, and from superfluous consumption.”
 
Now, out of ecumenical modesty, a wise communication strategy, or both, indulgences are mentioned only fleetingly in the official publications of the Catholic Church. Little is said about the exercise of this practice other than a reference to tradition; just as it is not emphasized, so it is not denied. The whole theological framework of indulgences outlined by the recent magisterium remains firmly in place and constitutes what is not said explicitly but reiterated implicitly in the Papal Letter. The Jubilee of 2025 will still be a year in which the opening of the holy door of St. Peter’s will sanction the beginning of the Catholic Church’s bestowal of the remission of sins on the millions of pilgrims who will flock in urbe (in the city) but also extra urbem (outside of the city).
 
Which Connection Then?
By contrast, the Jubilee of Jesus Christ, foreshadowed by the prophets and fulfilled by the Messiah, made ultimate forgiveness possible for believers. The Son of God paid the penalty and guilt of sins, and those who believed in Him were set free. Just as His sacrifice was unique, unique also is His forgiveness. Jesus Himself gives this forgiveness and does not give it to others to manage. The whole message of the Christian jubilee revolves around the person and work of Christ—the executor and guarantor of the jubilee—without providing for ecclesiastical involvements, mediations, and administrations in remitting sins that only God can forgive. Instead, the holy year called by the Vatican has the Roman Catholic Church at its center in the role of dispenser of indulgences. The Bible says that Christ’s sacrifice was unique and final for the salvation of those who believe, and so the practice of indulgences questions, and indeed denies, the perfect efficacy of Jesus’ work. Instead of bringing one closer, indulgences distance one from the jubilee of the Lord Jesus.
 
While it is true that jubilee was brought about by the Lord Jesus (e.g. Isaiah 61:1-3 and Luke 4:16-21), the church can only proclaim and practice it but not administer it, let alone make money from it. 2025 will certainly be a holy year of religious tradition, but it cannot be called a jubilee in the biblical sense.
 
This is an excerpt from my booklet Il Giubileo. Molto più e molto meglio di un anno santo (Rome: ADI-Media, 2024).

Posted on

226. If the Pope thinks that Rome is a “mission field.”

Evangelicals have known for centuries that Rome is a “mission field.” It is no coincidence that as soon as the breach of Porta Pia opened in 1870 (when Rome was liberated from papal power and the Pontifical State ended), Bibles and Christian tracts were immediately smuggled in to further the evangelization of the city. Despite being considered the cradle of Christianity, Rome had experienced a somewhat tyrannical religious monopoly by Roman Catholicism over the centuries. Still, it could not be said to be an evangelized city. Very religious, yes, but Christian, no. Rome was a mission field because it prevented the free circulation of God’s Word in the vernacular language and suppressed any attempts to bring about a biblical reformation.
 
For this reason, after 1870, evangelism and church planting activities were initiated by evangelicals surrounded by suspicion and, at times, opposition. This continues to this day. By evangelical standards, Rome was and is still a mission field. With around 100 evangelical churches and a population of 4 million, it is indeed a mission field.
 
Since 1870, much water has passed under the bridges of the river Tiber. Today, even the Roman Catholic pope says Rome is “a mission field.” Meeting with the Roman Catholic clergy on 13th January, Francis said just that: the heart of Roman Catholicism, the seat of the papacy, the center of Roman Catholicism, the city that Popes have claimed their own is a “mission field.”
 
What does that mean? The challenges of secularization, disengagement, and abandonment of religious practice are putting increasing pressure on the Roman Catholic Church right here in the eternal city. Accustomed to imposing its primacy on consciences for centuries, now that its authority structure and the social imposition of customs no longer work automatically, even Roman Catholicism in Rome is in a crisis of numbers and participation. Masses (with exceptions) are semi-deserted, and parishes (with exceptions) are perhaps attended for the services they offer to the young or the poor, but certainly are no longer known to be places of spirituality (e.g. prayer, catechesis). Much of the Roman population is not “active” in Catholic practices.
 
Rome is still religious in its “hardware” but less and less so in its “software.” Everything in Rome speaks of the established and pervasive presence of the Roman Catholic Church (palaces, institutions, churches, the Vatican). Still, it is beginning to perceive itself as a presence needing self-defense and promotion. So, the pope, who is the Roman Catholic bishop of Rome, says that the city must be considered as a mission field to be reached with the “new evangelization” by an “outgoing” church, the two passwords that he has been using since the 2013 programmatic document “The Joy of the Gospel.”
 
Although it may appear so, what Pope Francis said is not a new thing. Back in 1974 (exactly 50 years ago), Cardinal Poletti, then the pope’s vicar for the city of Rome, said that Rome was a “mission field.” It caused a stir then. Ten years after celebrating the splendors of the Second Vatican Council, the church began to see Rome not so much as “our” city but as a place to be reached.
 
When Francis says Rome is a “mission field,” one must also see the other side of the coin. On 4th January, he met with the Mayor of Rome, Roberto Gualtieri, and the President of the Lazio Region, Francesco Rocca—something that does not happen for any other faith community. The city’s two highest political and administrative authorities are not generally received “in audience” by religious leaders in their offices. However, the pope does it frequently, and they go to him with deferential attitudes. He is a top political figure.
 
Four days later on 8th January, the president of the Italian Catholic Bishops Conference, Cardinal Matteo Zuppi, signed the hiring of 6,500 new religion teachers (chosen by Roman Catholic bishops and paid for by Italian taxpayers) with the Italian government. This, too, is not a practice of a “mission field” but of a country enslaved to a religious denomination. A mirror of an unjust privilege is the fact that in public, state-funded schools, Roman Catholic teaching is the only option available for students and is paid for by the state.
 
And then, on Sunday evening, 14th January, Pope Francis was interviewed live on prime-time: an hour-long, almost kneeling interview by anchorman Fabio Fazio on “Che tempo che fa” show. It was on this program that, after defending the blessing of same-sex and irregular couples, when asked about the reality of hell, the pope said: “I like to think hell is empty; I hope it is.” Again, this is not an opportunity that other religious leaders are given, but it does not signal the fact that Italy is a “mission field” in the sense that evangelicals would give to the expression. Rome is rather an “occupied” field by a religion only.
 
The Roman Catholic hierarchy may consider Rome to be a “mission field,” but the pope and the Roman Catholic Church are not letting go of their grip on the city. Evidently, the pope feels the ground shaking under his feet and clings to the political-economic-institutional-media privileges of the past. He says he wants to do “mission,” but what he does is manage power.
 
For evangelicals, Rome was and is a mission field in need of evangelization by people and churches who witness the biblical gospel. “Silver or gold I do not have, but what I do have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.” (Acts 3:6). Neither the promise of political favour nor the prospect of social status, the gospel is the message of salvation in Jesus Christ alone by faith alone according to the Bible alone. This is the evangelical mission to the city of Rome. The pope’s is something else.

Posted on

224. Why Zygmunt Bauman saw “the light at the end of the tunnel” in Pope Francis

“You are the light at the end of the tunnel.” This is how Polish sociologist Zygmunt Bauman (1925-2017) addressed Pope Francis during their meeting in Assisi in 2016 on the sidelines of a Sant’Egidio (i.e. a Roman Catholic charity) peace initiative. In his conversation with Francis, Bauman said, “I have worked all my life to make humanity a more hospitable place. I arrived at the age of 91 and I have seen many false starts, until I became a pessimist. Thank you, because you are for me the light at the end of the tunnel.”
 
How did the sociologist most known for his books on the “liquid society” happen to see the “light” in the Pope? The book by Zeger Polhuijs, Zygmunt Bauman and Pope Francis in Dialogue: the Labyrinth of Liquid Modernity (Lanham, MD: Fortress Academic, 2022) examines the long-distance intellectual relationship between the two. Polhuijs is a Roman Catholic priest of the Community of Sant’Egidio and currently studies fundamental theology at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome. The book was presented at the Roman campus of the Australian Catholic University on 28th November 2023 and allows more digging into the matter.
 
Bauman’s attraction to Pope Francis is an episode that shows an interesting and widespread tendency in contemporary culture: how post-Marxist intellectuals, disillusioned by the failures of ideologies and preoccupied with the explosions of world fragmentation, find in Pope Francis a figure who, with his message of mercy, inclusion, and fraternity, instills hope in the general dullness.
 
Returning to Polhuijs’ book, it highlights how, in his examination of the ills of the contemporary world, Francis uses Bauman’s language and, conversely, the sociologist’s analyses overlap with the pope’s. There is a certain parallelism between them. Bauman, an agnostic, Jewish, post-Marxist, was attracted to Francis’ open and concrete thinking and the “transcendence” of the human fraternity he presents. In it, Bauman sees the awareness of the danger of the globalization of indifference, which is an effect of the liquid society, disengaged from traditional values and which has lost all sense of proximity. The antidote to liquidity is not a nostalgic and definitively lost solidity (Francis would call it “backwardism,” “clericalism,” “proselytism”), but solidarity among all: believers and non-believers. To contrast the adverse effects of liquid society, one does not need a common reference to God, but the appreciation of human fraternity.
 
For Bauman, Francis embodies this: not a reactionary religious voice saying to go back to traditional society or the Catholic church as the only agency that grants happiness for the afterlife, but an encouragement to connect with everyone by discovering the closeness of solidarity, regardless of one’s beliefs, religious commitments, or life practices. “The light at the end of the tunnel” is a new form of humanism that Francis seems to champion.
 
The proximity between Bauman and Pope Francis was indirectly observed by the conservative American intellectual George Weigel when he coined the term “liquid Roman Catholicism” as a description of the kind of Roman Catholicism that is emerging under Francis. Liquid Catholicism is marked by the uncertain teaching on doctrinal and moral subjects of primary importance; a kind of intolerance towards the pre-conciliar liturgy; the constant pickaxing of the Roman Catholic institution with repeated criticism of clericalism; the ways the Pope acts outside the box that destabilize customs; the welcoming and merciful message at the expense of the doctrinal and moral requirements of the Catechism of the Catholic Church, etc. All of this makes Francis a pope who is liquifying an institution that in the past has made its rocky and immutable structure a distinctive trait of its identity.
 
Liquid Catholicism embraces believers, non-believers, Christians, non-Christians, practicing and non-practicing religious people. The important thing is that all are included. Everyone, in his or her own way, will decide the ways and times of their participation, but the assumption is that everyone is already a participant. Not surprisingly, Roman Catholics accustomed to thinking of their Church in terms of doctrinal clarity, unambiguousness of interpretations, and predictability of practices are puzzled by Pope Francis.
 
The point I want to make is this. In Bauman’s attraction to Francis, he was not interested in God, the Bible, sin, Jesus Christ, and salvation; the sociologist remained agnostic and did not convert to Roman Catholicism or the Christian faith. He was interested in society’s degradation, for which the recipes of ideology advocated in his youth had proved unsuccessful. On the other hand, Francis did not challenge him to believe in God, just as he does not confront his interlocutors with the need for biblical conversion. The Pope encourages them and all to feel that they are “all brothers,” to welcome each other, to consider fraternity the source of transcendence, leaving each to regulate his relationship with God in his own way, should he be interested.
 
This kind of “catholicity”, i.e. liquid Catholicism, pleases the post-Marxist culture, which, from being anti-religious and atheistic, has now become agnostic, perhaps indifferent to the discourse about God, but still characterized by its humanitarian concerns. This is the common ground with Francis’ catholicity. It makes the pope a “popular” figure in the eyes of progressive culture because it grounds transcendence on horizontal relationships (God is not needed), exalts fraternity among fellow human beings (reconciliation with God is not sought), and encourages proximity with one another (without fellowship with God). It bypasses Jesus Christ who said: “I am the light of the world” (John 8:12). Biblically speaking, then, is what Bauman found in Pope Francis the true light at the end of the tunnel, or is it instead not another shade of darkness?

Posted on

223. The Icing on the Cake of Pope Francis: the Blessing of Same-Sex Unions

The Roman Catholic Church officially opens for the blessing of same-sex unions. After much winking and hinting that this would be the outcome of the current pontificate, the official statement came out, putting pen to paper. “One should neither provide for nor promote a ritual for the blessings of couples in an irregular situation. At the same time, one should not prevent or prohibit the Church’s closeness to people in every situation in which they might seek God’s help through a simple blessing” (n. 38). So says the declaration Fiducia supplicans (18/12/2023) by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, with explicit approval from Pope Francis.
 
The die is cast. What had been a decade-long debate between those who hoped for this opening, considering it an advancement of Catholic morality toward greater inclusiveness, and those who saw it as a sign of Roman Catholicism’s irreversible ruin is now resolved. With a “declaration” of high hierarchical value in the authority of Vatican pronouncements (observers note that the Congregation’s last statement was Joseph Ratzinger’s Dominus Iesus dating back to 2000), Roman Catholicism is now officially in favor of blessing gay unions, as are many liberal Protestant churches around the world.
 
It all began with “Who am I to judge?” (2013) to “All, all, all” at the Lisbon Youth Day (2023). The trajectory was clear from the start: Pope Francis’ inclusive, embracing, “Catholic” afflatus and his distance from positions that he calls “clerical” and “backwardism” but that are also part of the doctrinal baggage of Roman Catholicism. In between are many steps, not the least of which is the appointment of trusted Argentine theologian Víctor Manuel Fernández as Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, who signed the Declaration. Now Francis has his back covered even within the Vatican’s “official” theology. Indeed, Fiducia supplicans openly contradicts another 2021 document of the same Congregation, when Cardinal Ladaria was Prefect. Then, responding to “doubts” precisely about the possibility of blessing same-sex unions, the Vatican had still responded with a (somewhat) clear “no.” Two years later, however, the answer is “yes.” Evidently, the evolution toward Roman Catholic inclusion has accelerated further.
 
Of course: the Vatican says that there is no question of recognizing gay unions as marriage, that Catholic doctrine does not change, that the blessing is not a sacrament but a sacramental, … all secondary doctrinal clarifications that do not modify the main point. The Roman Catholic Church today officially offers blessing to same-sex couples: something, moreover, already in place (and for years) in Roman Catholic churches in many European (e.g. Germany and Belgium) and Latin American (e.g. Argentina) countries.
 
Roman Catholics must ask themselves whether Fiducia supplicans is consistent with the previous magisterium or is in open conflict with it. By its nature, Roman Catholicism is constantly on the move to possibly encompass the whole world within the institutional-sacramental structures of its Roman system. Not being hinged on and guided by the biblical gospel, Roman Catholicism fluctuates between asserting its Roman power and accentuating its Catholic embrace. In Dominus Iesus (2000) the Vatican restated its Roman understanding of the Catholic Church being the only and true church. With Fiducia supplicans (2023), the Vatican opens its Catholic embrace to same-sex couples.
 
Fiducia supplicans is the icing on the cake of his pontificate. The main ingredients of Francis’ Jesuit recipe have been two: we are “all brothers” (Christians, non-Christians, atheists and agnostics: everyone) and the Catholic Church is the “field hospital” for all. Now, there is also the icing on the cake.
 
Fiducia supplicans is in open contrast to biblical teaching. Pope Francis is a shrewd Roman Catholic Jesuit who leads his church toward the most “catholic” form it has ever had, but not toward the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Posted on

222. From “Metaphysical” to “Popular”: A Window on the Roman Catholic Theology of the Future?

In the beginning was Roman Catholic metaphysics: Aristotelian in outline, revisited and improved by Thomas Aquinas, capable of integrating some biblical and Augustinian insights, elastic to the point of metabolizing mystical and rationalistic streams, open to updating with respect to modernity, while maintaining its solid structures. Metaphysics was taught in Roman Catholic seminaries (two years of metaphysics preceded the study of theology in the training of priests). It was at the heart of catechesis, the watermark of the church’s documents, and the imprint of its public morality and theology. In short, it was the recognizable mark of the Roman Catholic church. Metaphysics started from “first principles” and, in the light of reason as helped by revelation (coming from Tradition and the Bible), by deductive means and procedures, arrived at every nook and detail of human life. With this metaphysics, Rome fought against the Protestant Reformation, the Enlightenment, and modernism.
 
Then came Vatican II (1962-1965), and that solid framework was stress-tested. It went through a season of development and updating, introducing a new set of emphases. The “pastoral” tone was preferred to the “doctrinal” one.  The top-down structure made room for more bottom-up processes. The season of “genitive” theologies (of demythologization, enculturation, hope, liberation, post-colonialism, ecumenism, inter-religious dialogue, etc.) battered classical metaphysics. In the name of “renewal,” there was a certain theological restlessness and an eagerness to change the paradigm.
 
Then there was Pope Francis (2013- ). Of eclectic and unfinished theological training, Argentine and non-academic, the pope immediately showed his frustration with the schematism of metaphysics, denouncing its abstract and “clerical” character, in his view far away from people’s problems and offering answers to questions of the past that nobody is asking. In their own way, the “outgoing” trajectory of which he became an interpreter and the “synodality” he championed are formulas that apply to theology as well. In concrete terms, in 2018, with the Constitution Veritatis Gaudium, the pope sent signals to the ecclesiastical universities, preparing them for a new season. After the death of Benedict XVI, Francis changed the leadership of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, giving it to a “non-metaphysical” theologian like Víctor Manuel Fernández. Now, with the document Ad theologiam promuovendam (“Promoting Theology”, 1st November 2023; Italian text; English unofficial translation), he changed the statute of the Pontifical Academy of Theology, which is a Vatican institution at the service of the pope’s theological ministry. In this text, Pope Francis envisages his way of doing theology.
 
In imagining the Academy of the future, Francis hopes that theology will experience an “epistemological and methodological rethinking,” a “turning point,” a “paradigm shift,” a “courageous cultural revolution.” In the background is dissatisfaction with traditional metaphysics and its theological methods. According to Francis, theology must be “fundamentally contextual” and no longer start from “first principles.” It must translate into a “culture of dialogue” with all and no longer think of itself as only lecturing to the world, religions, and others. It must be “transdisciplinary” and no longer prioritize philosophy over the other disciplines. It must be “spiritual” and not abstract and ideological; “popular” and not detached from people’s common sense; “inductive” and not deductive.
 
In so doing, the pope distances himself from the legacy of metaphysical theology that has been the paradigm of Roman Catholicism throughout the ages. Is his way of looking at theology something that Thomas Aquinas, Robert Bellarmine, Leo XIII, John Paul II, Joseph Ratzinger-Benedict XVI, etc., would recognize as being in line with the tradition of Rome? Not really. Perhaps Karl Rahner, some Liberation theologians, and their disciples would.
 
“Promoting theology” seems to be a manifesto of an account of Roman Catholic theology that, without naming traditional metaphysics, distances itself from it in significant ways. It does not appear to abolish metaphysics by decree but subjects it to accelerated “updating” and “development” such that its connotations are changed. In a nutshell, the Roman Catholic theology of the future will be done differently.
 
As noted at the outset, traditional metaphysics has absorbed all the orientations that have emerged, even those that initially seemed contrary to its arrangement. It has demonstrated great adaptability at the service of Roman catholicity, i.e. the ability to integrate new ideas and methods without changing the fundamental commitments of the Roman Catholic church. The question is: is the direction Francis wants theology to take compatible with its well-established patterns? Is it a radical change with unpredictable consequences? For sure, in the wake of Vatican II as interpreted by Francis, Roman Catholic theology will be increasingly different not only in emphasis but also in language, style, themes, and content. Those who think of Rome as the home of stability have yet another indication that Rome does develop and change. Tradition is an evolving process.
 
It is feasible to say that the Roman Catholic theology of the future will be et-et, both-and: both the one established over the centuries and the one Pope Francis desires. Both approaches to theology are not committed to Scripture as the supreme authority. The former reflects a philosophical system rather than the Bible; the latter mirrors the context more than the Word of God. In both cases, theology is hardly evangelical but rather two ways of voicing Roman Catholic theology: one more “Roman” (metaphysical), the other more “catholic” (contextual).

Posted on

220. “The next Pope will be John XXIV.” Will he?

“On the Vietnam journey, if I don’t go, John XXIV certainly will.” In the traditional inflight press conference on the papal plane returning to Rome from Mongolia (September 4), Pope Francis hinted at his possible successor. Being asked what his plans are for future international journeys, Francis showed awareness of his frailty, due to age and poor health conditions. This is why he cannot plan long-term. He also indicated the name of a possible successor who could replace him after he is gone. Of course, he did not refer to a specific individual, but to the papal name he wished the next Pope could take.
 
The indication of the name “John XXIV” sheds light on the preferred portrait of the pope of the future. It is worth noticing the possible names he did not refer to and the one he used during the interview.
 
“Francis II” was not mentioned for understandable reasons. A reigning Pope wishing his successor to follow his steps is legitimate, but indicating that he should choose his name would have been an abnormal form of egocentrism. In his 10-year tenure, Francis has shaped the next conclave (i.e. the assembly of cardinals who will elect the next Pope) by nominating 70% of it. Most of the new cardinals are Francis’s friends and like-minded people. Obviously, he wants the successor to follow in his footsteps, but wishing him to take the name “Francis II” would have been a faux pas.
 
“Benedict XVII” wasn’t mentioned either. Despite formally polite co-existence, Francis has always thought of himself as breaking off the ecclesiastical trajectory of Pope Ratzinger. There has been a cleavage between the two on all grounds: doctrine, practice, style, language, strategy. After the death of Benedict XVI, Francis tried to limit his influence and close his era. Certainly, Francis does not want Pope Ratzinger’s staunchly “Roman” and traditional line to be revived after the end of his reign. He believes there is no place whatsoever for a “Benedict XVII” in the future of the Roman Catholic Church.
 
Furthermore, a “John Paul III” was not indicated as a desirable follow-up. John Paul II’s legacy is surely tied to the re-launching of Rome’s catholicity (i.e. the embracement of the world into Rome’s sacramental and institutional structures) – something that Pope Francis is also pursuing in his own way. However, John Paul II (now a “saint”) was also the Pope who engaged in “culture wars” with the secularizing West, upholding traditional Roman Catholic moral identity-markers (e.g. opposition to abortion, euthanasia, and homosexuality). He created an “us” versus “them” mentality in the relationship with the world, especially the secular West. This oppositional posture is very far from Pope Francis’s more “catholic” and inclusivist strategy. He wants to underline that we are “all brothers” and continue to be so despite professing different religions and having opposite ethical convictions. Francis does not want the Roman Church to be a polarizing agency but a place where differences exist in harmony.
 
“Paul VII” did not appear to Francis as a desirable successor either. While Francis often positively quotes Paul VI as the one who wrote the encyclical Evangelii Nuntiandi (1975) calling the Roman Church to engage in “evangelization” (to be understood in the Roman Catholic sense of expanding the borders of the Roman Church), he apparently dislikes the black and white picture that Paul VI painted in dealing with moral issues such as the regulation of birth in his encyclical Humanae Vitae (1968). Paul VI created a chasm between the world and the Church. On the contrary, Francis wants to eliminate all separation and treats differences, even the sharpest ones, as instances of human richness to be harmonized.
 
Neither “Francis II,” “Benedict XVII,” “John Paul III,” nor “Paul VII.” Why “John XXIV” then? Here are some possible explanations for why Pope Francis would like his successor to imitate or look like John XXIII. John XXIII is known as the “good pope” who was approachable, kind, warm, and humble. Giuseppe Roncalli (1881-1963), John XXIII, was the Pope who convened the Second Vatican Council in 1959. The Council only began in 1962, and John XXIII died during it. Vatican II is the watershed event in the present-day Roman Catholic Church whereby Rome began to downplay its centuries-long insistence on the “Roman” sides of its identity (e.g., hierarchy, full adherence to the catechism, submission to the ecclesiastical authority) and to stress its “catholic” aspirations (e.g., inclusion, embracement, absorption). Francis thinks of himself as enacting and implementing this aspect of Vatican II.
 
Moreover, in the opening address to Vatican II, John XXIII remarked that the Council had no doctrinal agenda but wanted to develop “a magisterium which is predominantly pastoral in character.” Neither condemnations of the world nor theological definitions were to be expected. What ensued was a wholehearted affirmation of the goodness of the modern world. Francis likes to underline the pastoral nature of everything the Church says and does. The pastoral dimension (warm, welcoming, accepting of all) is often referred to as if it were in opposition to the doctrinal one. Francis thinks of his pontificate as a “pastoral” attempt at building bridges instead of creating walls with the whole world, leaving doctrinal issues aside. He wants this “pastoral” emphasis to be kept and even increased by his successor. A John XXIII-like pope is expected to promote universal fraternity in ecumenical, inter-faith, and social relationships.
 
A final comment is in place. Unlike John Paul II, Benedict XVI, and Francis, John XXIII was an Italian pope. Among the candidates to succeed Francis, Cardinal Matteo Zuppi, the Italian archbishop of Bologna and president of the Italian Bishops Conference, is at the top of the list. In recent months, Francis sent Zuppi to visit Ukraine, Russia, the US, and now China as his ambassador for peace in the Ukraine war. In so doing, he wanted to raise Zuppi’s international profile. In many ways, Cardinal Zuppi resembles the portrait of “John XXIV”: not known for his strong doctrinal views, but recognized as a cardinal dedicated to dialogue, peace, and fraternity. Did Pope Francis intend to indirectly campaign for him?

AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER!

On the occasion of the 8th centenary of Thomas Aquinas, the book is a thoughtful introduction aimed at presenting the main contours of his complex legacy and critically evaluating it especially in areas where the “Roman Catholic” Thomas is more than the “classical” theologian who is attracting renewed attention in evangelical circles. IVP Books

Posted on

218. In a double move, Francis closes the Ratzinger era. For now.

Pope Ratzinger (1927-2022) died only seven months ago, but it is safe to say that on July 1st his era definitely ended, at least in the intentions of the reigning pope. In a double move that would make a skilled checkers player envious, Pope Francis put an end to an unwieldy presence in his pontificate. As a “pope emeritus” living in the Vatican (a situation that had never happened before in the millennial history of the Catholic Church), Ratzinger constituted a thorn in Francis’ side, albeit a silent one at least on the outside. Light years removed in terms of theological training and ideas about the church, Francis had assigned him the “wise grandfather” role—a vexatious way of saying that he was an old man rich in memory but lacking in future prospects.
 
Benedict XVI died at the end of 2022, but on July 1st, his shadow receded further from the Vatican. Francis’ first move was to dispatch Ratzinger’s secretary, Msgr. George Gänswein, to Freiburg, Germany, without assignments: away from Rome, deprived of ecclesiastical responsibilities. The last rift between him and Francis had been the day after Ratzinger’s funeral with the publication of his book Nothing but the Truth. My Life at the Side of Benedict XVI (Italian edition: Nient’altro che la Verità. La mia vita al fianco di Benedetto XVI, Milano: Piemme, 2023), in which Gänswein had clearly spoken of the disagreements between the two popes. Francis had not liked either the timing or the content. Now Gänswein, who is only 66 years old (a “young” age for the church in Rome), has received the reciprocation that tastes like revenge served cold: a one-way ticket and a future without appointments. The message is clear: cohabitation with Ratzinger and his “inner circle” is over.
 
But there was another move in contrast to the Ratzingerian age. Before becoming pope, Ratzinger had been the powerful prefect of the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith (formerly the Holy Office). Upon becoming pope, in defense of Catholic doctrine, Cardinals Müller (German) and Ladaria (Spanish) had been appointed in his place. They are different in temperaments, but both “conservative” or “moderate” like Ratzinger. The former had been his student, the latter had been secretary of the Dicastery in Ratzinger’s time. Two “loyalists.” There was no shortage of friction; Müller had said that Pope Francis needed “theological framing” and, in the face of this “offense,” was promptly and abruptly dismissed by the pope. Ladaria, a Jesuit like Bergoglio, has held a more defiladed and guarded position, but certainly not in line with the evolution of Francis’ papacy.
 
Now, coincidentally, on the very same day of Ratzinger’s former secretary’s departure, Ladaria, Ratzinger’s appointee to the Dicastery, was also dismissed on grounds of seniority. In his place, Francis appointed Argentine Víctor Manuel Fernández. Not well known in international theological circles, Fernández is, however, a loyal follower of Pope Francis. He is said to have been the ghostwriter of Evangelii Gaudium, the pontificate’s programmatic manifesto calling for a “missionary conversion” of his church;[1] Amoris Laetitia, the exhortation that contains openings toward the Eucharistic inclusion of people in “irregular” states of life; and Laudato Sì’, the encyclical on environmental issues that is so popular in progressive circles. Virtually all the cornerstones of Francis’ magisterium were written in consultation with Fernández. In the aftermath of Evangelii Gaudium, he had written a book presenting the new papal course to the world: The Project of Francis. Where he wants to take the Church (Italian edition: Il progetto di Francesco. Dove vuole portare la Chiesa, Bologna: EMI, 2014). Now, this interpreter of Francis’ thinking, far removed from Ratzinger’s, became prefect of the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith, the highest body for the promotion of Catholic doctrine. Francis has a very faithful and “young” theologian (62 years old) in a position that can carry on his “project” even when he is gone. In Francis’ view, this really is a big deal. The next two years will see two Synods of Bishops (gathering all Roman Catholic bishops from around the world) on the controversial topic of “synodality”, i.e., a new way of proceeding in the church, with Rome becoming more inclusive and absorbing (catholic) and less marked by its traditional identity (Roman). Francis has now a trusted supporter and enthusiastic promoter of his view of “synodality.”
 
In two moves, Francis has shrewdly weakened the “Roman-ness” of the church as interpreted by Pope Benedict XVI and scored a point in favor of the “catholicity” of the current fluid church, the one where we are “all brothers.” While physically frail, Francis has never been stronger than he is now.

[1] Here is a recent summary of Evangelii Gaudium from the Pope himself: “Here we find the ‘heart’ of the evangelical mission of the Church: to reach all through the gift of God’s infinite love, to seek all, to welcome all, excluding no one, to offer our lives for all. All! That is the key word.” Audience to the General Assembly of the Pontifical Mission Societies (June 3rd, 2023).

Posted on

212. 10 years of Francis: “Under his papacy, the Roman Church has become more ‘catholic’ than ever before”

[Published in: Evangelical Focus – world – 10 years of Francis: “Under his papacy, the Roman Church has become more ‘catholic’ than ever before”]

This March marks the tenth anniversary of Francis’ papacy.

After becoming the first cardinal to become pope through the resignation of his predecessor, Benedict XVI, Jorge Mario Bergoglio’s leadership has found himself constantly at the centre of media attention.

His inclusiveness and lack of clarity on certain issues has caused concern among the most conservative sectors of the Roman Catholic Church.

On the other hand, the absence of specific decisions has led some of the more liberal circles to return to the synodal path, especially in Germany.

Faced with a clear retreat from its historical geographical dominance, Francis’ emphasis on the Southern hemisphere of the planet is shown in his recent renewal of the Council of Cardinals (his closest advisory body) with names such as the Archbishop of San Salvador de Bahía, Sérgio da Rocha, the Archbishop of Kinshasa, Fridolin Ambongo, the Archbishop of Bombay, Oswald Gracias.

Spanish news website Protestante Digital talked with the Italian evangelical pastor, theologian and an expert in Roman Catholicism based in Rome, Leonardo De Chirico, about the ten yeas of papacy of Francis.

Question. Ten years after his election, how do you assess Francis’ papacy?

Answer. There are several angles we could take to evaluate the 10 years of his papacy. Here are three.

From the global point of view, he was elected to divert the attention of the Roman Catholic church from the secularizing West (where Roman Catholicism is in decline) to the Global South (where in some places like Africa it has potential to grow).

His 40 international journeys witnessed to his attention given to African and Asian countries. The appointments of cardinals were also made following a similar criterion. Under Francis the center of gravity shifted towards the Global South.

From the doctrinal viewpoint, his three encyclicals (e.g. Laudato si and All Brothers) and his apostolic exhortations (the most important ones being The Joy of the Gospel on mission and Amor Laetitia on the family) indicate a shift of the Catholic magisterium towards becoming more “catholic” (i.e. inclusive, Global South, absorbing, focused on social issues) and less “Roman” (i.e. centered on Catholic distinctives).

Francis has lowered the traditional Roman Catholic identity markers (sacraments, hierarchy) for all people (e.g. practicing, not practicing, believing, not believing, people in ‘disordered’ lifestyles) to be included and to feel they “belong” to the church.

When Francis talks about “mission” he has in mind this sense of inclusion, regardless of gospel criteria. Under Francis the Roman Catholic Church has become more “catholic” than ever in its long history.

As a matter of fact, in spite of his inclusiveness, Catholic churches are empty, and numbers are declining in the West.

Organizationally speaking, he has launched the “synodal” process whereby he wants his church to be less centralized and with more participation from the peripheries.

Germany has taken him seriously (perhaps too seriously!) and its “synodal” path is advancing proposals such as the blessing to homosexual relationships and the ordination of women to the priesthood that are considered to be disruptive.

As Francis seems committed to synodality on the one hand, his style of leadership appears to be centralizing, moody and unpredictable, on the other.

Q. It seems that his papacy has especially highlighted the differences in the leadership of the Catholic Church. To what extent is the Holy See more polarized?

A. Every pope has had his internal enemies. John Paul II was not liked by some progressive circles. Benedict XVI was criticized every time he spoke. Francis has received pushback from cardinals, theologians, and important sectors of Roman Catholicism, especially in the USA but also in Australia (e.g. the late cardinal Pell) and Germany (e.g. cardinal Müller).

They are concerned with the erosion of Roman Catholic identity based on traditional doctrines and practices being replaced with an “all brothers” kind of mindset where almost anything goes.

Some mismanagement by Francis in financial and leadership decisions has also created an atmosphere of distrust in the Vatican.

Q. An uncertain financial situation in the Vatican Bank; issues such as same-sex marriage; the opening of the priesthood to women, etc. What are the main challenges you think he will focus on?

A. In 2023 and 2024 he will convene the Synod on synodality and I think this will be the test case of his whole papacy.

Some proposals coming not only from Germany, but from the grassroots of other Roman Catholic provinces, want to bring radical changes on some of the traditional identity-markers of the Church (e.g. view of sexuality, access to the sacraments, priesthood).

Unfortunately, none of them indicate that there is an “evangelical” move in the Roman Church. They are all aimed at making the church more “catholic” but they are not open to a biblical reformation.

Francis has brought his Church to a time when decisions need to be made. As a good Jesuit, he has resisted making decisions so far, being more willing to activate long-term processes.

Q. Francis just went to the just went to RD Congo and South Sudan to ask for peace in two war territories. He has talked about the Amazon, climate change and the war in Ukraine. To what extent is the Vatican’s role as an international mediator becoming more and more defined?

A. Francis has become the spokesperson of the world religions on issues like migration, the environment, and peace, less so on issues like the protection of life. All of this in the context of his understanding of inter-faith dialogue.

His Document on human fraternity (2019) signed with Muslim leaders epitomizes his insistence on the whole of humanity made by “brothers and sisters” who are called to walk, work and pray together regardless faith in Christ. Certainly, the political role of the Vatican has become more relevant and central; its theological profile has further lost Christian distinctiveness.

Q. Francis’ papacy is marked by the Fratelli Tutti mentality. He has no longer referred to Protestants as “separated brethren”. What are the implications of his relationship with other religions and what can we still expect?

A. Francis has bluntly re-defined what it means to be “brothers and sisters”. He has extended “fraternity” to all those who live “under the sun”, i.e. “the one human family”. Muslims, Buddhists, agnostics, atheists, Protestants … are all “all brothers”.

That is his interpretation of what Vatican II meant with the Church being “the sacrament of unity between God and mankind” (Lumen Gentium 1). The re-definition of what it means to be brothers and sisters is an attempt to blur what the Bible expects us to distinguish.

Our common humanity takes over the spiritual connotation of being “in Christ” as the basis for the shared fraternity. Francis pushes this unbiblical approach in his ecumenical endeavors and inter-faith initiatives.

Contrary to what Francis thinks, there is no reason to distort the plain words of Scripture: fraternity is a relationship shared by those who are “in Christ”. Moreover, a biblically defined neighborhood is more than sufficient to promote civic engagement and peaceful co-existence with all men and women.

Evangelical protestants should be aware that when Francis speaks of “unity” he does not have in mind unity in the gospel, but unity of the whole of mankind.

Posted on

208. The End of the Tridentine Paradigm (or Where Is the Roman Catholic Church Going)?

It was the historian Paolo Prodi (1932-2016) who coined the expression “Tridentine paradigm” to indicate the set of identity markers that emerged from the Council of Trent (1545-1563) and which shaped the Catholic Church for centuries, at least until the second half of the 20th century. In one of his most famous books, Il paradigma tridentino (2010), Prodi explored the self-understanding of the institutional church of Rome which, in the wake of and in response to the “threat” of the Protestant Reformation, closed hierarchical and pyramidal ranks up to the primacy of the Pope. The church consolidated its sacramental system, regimented the church in rigorous canonical forms and parochial territories, and disciplined folk devotions and the control of consciences. It relaunched its mission to counter the spread of the Reformation and to anticipate the Protestant states in an attempt to arrive first in countries not yet “evangelized.” It promoted models of holiness to involve the laity emotionally and inspired artists to celebrate the new vitality of the church of Rome in a memorable form.

The Tridentine paradigm produced the Roman Catechism of Pius V (1566) as a dogmatic synthesis of the Catholic faith to which Catholics scrupulously had to abide, the controversial theology of Robert Bellarmine to support anti-Protestant apologetic action, and the great baroque creations by Gian Lorenzo Bernini (like the majestic colonnade of St. Peter’s) to represent the church as the winner over its adversaries and new patron of artists and intellectuals.

The Tridentine paradigm has withstood the challenge of the Protestant Reformation and more. With the same paradigm, Rome also faced a second push coming from the modern world: that of the Enlightenment (on the cultural side) and the French Revolution (on the political side) between the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. With the same set of institutional, sacramental, and hierarchical markers that emerged from the Council of Trent, Rome defended itself from the attack of modernity and counterattacked. With the dogmas of the immaculate conception of Mary (1854) and papal infallibility (1870), which are children of the Tridentine paradigm, Rome elevated Mariology and the papacy to identity markers of modern Roman Catholicism. With Pius IX’s Syllabus of Errors (1864), Rome condemned the modern world, just as the Council of Trent had anathematized Protestants. With the encyclical Aeterni Patris (1879), Leo XIII elevated Thomism to a system of Catholic thought against all the drifts of modern culture.

The Tridentine paradigm exalted the church of Rome and condemned its enemies. It established who was in and who was out. It defined Roman Catholic doctrine and rejected “Protestant” and “Modernist” heresies. It solidified Roman Catholic teaching and consolidated practices. It authorized controlled forms of pluralism but within the compact structure of the central organization. According to the Tridentine paradigm, it was clear who Catholics were, what they believed, how they were expected to behave, and how the church functioned.

Then, the world changed, and Roman Catholicism changed with it. The Tridentine paradigm gradually eroded with the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965), not in a frontal and direct way, but following the path of “development” and “aggiornamento” that Vatican II promoted. Of course, Rome does not make any U-turns or swerves sharply. Trent is still there, and the dogmatic and institutional structures of the Tridentine paradigm are standing. The Roman Catholic Church has begun to see its limits, wishing to overcome them by embracing a new posture in the world. Even if Paul VI immediately saw the risks of abandoning it, John Paul II tried to make the Tridentine paradigm elastic by extending it to the universal church. Benedict XVI coined the expression “reform-in-continuity” to try to explain the Catholic dynamic of change without breaking with the past.

The pope who seems to perceive the Tridentine paradigm in negative terms is Pope Francis. His invectives against “clericalism” are directed at Roman Catholic people and practices nourished by the Tridentine spirit. The typical distinctions of the Tridentine paradigm are rendered fluid and are progressively dissolved: clergy/laity, man/woman, Catholic/non-Catholic, heterosexual/homosexual, married/divorced, etc. If the Tridentine paradigm distinguished and selected things and people, Francis wants to unite everything and everyone. The first paradigm separated Roman Catholicism from the rest; this pope wants to mix everything. The first worked with the pair white/black, inside/outside, faithful/infidel. Francis sees the world in different shades of gray and welcomes everyone into the “field hospital” that is the church.

The “synodal” church dear to Francis seems to overturn the traditional pyramidal structure. The direction of the church is determined by the “holy people of God” made up of migrants, the marginalized, the poor, the laity, and people in irregular life situations. Before there were heretics, pagans, and excommunicated, now we are “all brothers.” It is no longer the center that drives, but the peripheries. It is not sin, judgment, and salvation that occupy the discourse of the church, but its message today touches on themes such as peace, human rights, and the environment. The church no longer wants to present itself as a “magistra” (teacher) but only as a “mater” (mother).

With its calls for the extension of the priesthood to women and the blessing of same-sex couples, the German “synodal path” is effectively striking the Tridentine paradigm. The first results of the “synodal process” in European dioceses are attacks on the Tridentine paradigm. It is true that there are conservative circles (in the USA in particular) who claim the Tridentine paradigm and would like to revive it. However, the point is that Roman Catholicism globally is at a crossroads. Has the Tridentine paradigm reached the end of its journey? If so, what will be the face of Roman Catholicism tomorrow? Neither the Tridentine paradigm nor the various synodal paths dear to Pope Francis indicate an evangelical turning point in the Church of Rome. The Church of Rome was and remains distant from the claims of the biblical gospel.