Unflagging apologist for papacy which hides treaty with government that operates concentration camps develops sudden interest in transparency and religious freedom.

 

Ah, Villanova's Massimo Faggioli. What can you say about a guy who calls the Holy Spirit "she" and thinks Francis is super, if not radical enough?

A lot, I suppose, but the most important part is that he is a hearty cheerleader for this pontifical era, and hails the secret concordat with the Chinese Reich as "geopolitical repositioning."

No matter the unrelenting persecution wrought on those he is supposed to regard as brothers and sisters under said shameful agreement.

The reality is, Faggioli is quite comfortable with Church-State entanglement--so long as it aligns with his political preferences.

With the right government, Massimo is very, very Vichy.

To be fair, he recently claimed to be able to discern nascent fascism in the world. 

No, not in Xi's China. But rather in the phenomenon of Catholics supporting the Trump Administration, which he attempts to describe in this characteristically-loggorheic-yet-empty meditation.

So it should be no surprise that this defender of Vatican-enforced submission to the State insists that an American circuit court judge be subjected to a religious test and her ties to a Catholic charismatic group be explored in minute detail, should she be nominated as a Supreme Court justice.

For the freedom, of course:

Such a request to examine the covenant may seem unseemly to some. After all, the Constitution says that “no religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public trust.” Catholics and scholars of Catholicism know how important this foundation of freedom is in the history of American Catholics; anti-Catholic bigotry is an old and ugly story in the United States.

But this is not a matter of anti-Catholicism or even liberal bias against conservative Catholics. Barrett’s nomination would raise an important new problem: Is there a tension between forthrightly serving as one of the final interpreters of the Constitution and swearing an oath to an organization that lacks transparency and visible structures of authority that are accountable to their members, to the Roman Catholic Church and to the wider public?

Say what you will about Massimo, but he knows his shell games. He moves from potential concerns about Barrett's group to a general critique about potential problems with charismatic movements in general, never specifying anything untoward about the People of Praise. 

And he does so whilst touting about wide-open conscience protections and freedom of thought in the Church...even as he issues oily demands for Catholics to be brought to heel.

Three-Card Massimo can be fun, when you know what to look for.

Meanwhile, membership in the Knights of Columbus has been deemed to be disqualifying by the Democrats' vice-presidential nominee and Massimo was silent. Despite, you know, Knights being open with their vows and being fully in line with Catholic dogma. Because he's already crafted a rationale to smear them, with just a whiff of plausibly-denied racism, of course.

So, yeah, he's happy to see Catholics he doesn't care about get squashed by the State for any reason. He's a sincere partisan. But his arguments here are patently insincere.

With the best will in the world...

I firmly believe Bishop Barron is a man who operates in good faith. An energetic and irenic shepherd, he shows the treasury of the Faith to the world. Yes, I am aware of his stumbles on the Last Things and in other areas, but I will bracket those for now.

However, like all contemporary bishops, he firmly shackles himself to the crumbling Vatican II paradigm, insisting that, contrary to what our sensory and statistical input are constantly telling us, things have been good since 1965, all things considered.

 

Exhibit A: this brand-spanking-new FAQ on the most recent ecumenical council.  

Hoo, boy. 

There's a lot to respond to there, but I will confine myself to two areas.

1.    First, the question of deliberate ambiguity in the conciliar documents.  

This answer does not cover itself in glory, he says politely. First, it engages in the genetic fallacy by dismissing the late French Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre's quote of the progressive Dutch Dominican Edward Schillebeeckx because Lefebvre reports it. Sorry, doesn't work that way, even if you don't like the man. 

Secondly, while no, Schillebeeckx did not vote on the final form of the documents, his influence on the conciliar documents and debates is well-documented. He would certainly have been privy to the various drafts and discussions. For him to say such a thing--especially in light of his overall theological record--is far from implausible.

Thirdly, no less than Walter Cardinal Kasper acknowledged in L'Osservatore Romano that the documents offered compromise language which can be interpreted in different ways--in other words, inherent--and certainly foreseeable--ambiguity. If you want to quibble about "deliberate," go ahead and lawyer. 

How about "wilful and wanton disregard for the consequences"?

[Pope John XXIII] saw a new era unfolding, which he met with optimism, in the unshakeable trust in God. He spoke of a pastoral objective of the council, meaning an update, a "becoming today" of the Church. It was not meant a banal adaptation to the spirit of the times, but the appeal to make the faith transmitted today speak.

The large majority of the Council Fathers grasped the idea. He wanted to meet the requests of the biblical, liturgical, patristic, pastoral and ecumenical renewal movements, which arose between the two world wars; to begin a new page of history with Judaism, full of burdens, and enter into dialogue with modern culture. It was the project of a modernization that he did not want [to--]and could not even be[--]modernism.

An influential minority stubbornly resisted this attempt by the majority. John XXIII's successor, Pope Paul VI, was fundamentally on the side of the majority, but he tried to involve the minority and, in line with the ancient conciliar tradition, to reach an approval, as far as possible unanimously, of the conciliar documents, which in total were sixteen. 

He succeeded; but he paid a price. In many places, compromise formulas had to be found, in which, often, the positions of the majority are immediately alongside those of the minority, designed to delimit them.

Thus, the conciliar texts have within themselves an enormous potential for conflict; they open the door to selective reception in one or the other direction.

It is understandable that the Word on Fire staff did not stumble across a L'Osservatore Romano article from April 12, 2013 which was only in Italian. But trust me--it's well known to those who have long-noticed such ambiguous formulations.

2.    Blame for the obvious decay in sacramental practice and belief.

I will agree that blame for clerical corruption can hardly be laid at the feet of the 21st council. This grim and pervasive infection existed long before 1962, and its effects will be with our descendants.

Those who still practice the Faith, that is.

Because that's the essential problem with this section: it asks us to look at raw growth numbers outside of Europe. But it does not directly acknowledge that sacramental participation continues to crater even in places where the nominal numbers continue to rise. 

To wit, look at these daunting figures for Catholic observance in the United States between 1970 and 2019. Yes, the number of nominal Catholics inches upwards, but actual sacramental practice is fading away.

And two quotes from Archbishop Fulton Sheen from the 1970s do not a convincing rebuttal make. I love Sheen and look forward to his canonization. But he left this vale of tears in 1979, and things have not exactly turned the corner. 

Forty more years have passed, and it has become worse than turbulence, with no end in sight. One does not have to reject a council recognize its failure in its expressed aims. And one does not have to blame the council for everything to recognize that it played a negative role, even if just via contested interpretations of ambiguity. 

Indeed, refusing to accept either failure or a share of the blame suggests that the council has ceased being an historical event conditioned by time and place. Instead, it has become an idol which is not to be blasphemed.

That mindset does not bode well for the future.

"In those days there was no king in Israel; every man did what was right in his own eyes."

Polytheism is back, and it wears a crucifix.

Or, perhaps more accurately, a resurrefix.

That is, alas, the logical conclusion of the current pontiff's recent statement opening the reception of the previously-Catholic sacrament of the Eucharist to pretty much everybody who has thought about it really hard and thinks they have engaged in an internal dialogue with Christ on the topic.

If there were some way to be nice about the...emotive bafflegab offered by the successor of Peter, I would. But there's not, so I won't. Here it is, in full, so I can't be accused of cherry-picking:

The question on sharing the Lord’s Supper isn’t easy for me to respond to, above all in front of a theologian like Cardinal Kasper – I’m scared! 

I think of how the Lord told us when he gave us this mandatum to “do this in memory of me,” and when we share the Lord’s Supper, we recall and we imitate the same as the Lord. And there will be the Lord’s Supper in the final banquet in the new Jerusalem – it’ll be there! But that will be the last one… in the meantime, I ask myself and don’t know how to respond – what you’re asking me, I ask myself the question. To share the Lord’s banquet: is it the goal of the path or is it the viaticum [etym. “to accompany you on the journey”] for walking together? I leave that question to the theologians and those who understand. 

It’s true that in a certain sense, to share means that there aren’t differences between us, that we have the same doctrine – underscoring that word, a difficult word to understand. But I ask myself: but don’t we have the same Baptism? If we have the same Baptism, shouldn’t we be walking together? And you’re a witness of a likewise profound journey, a journey of marriage: itself a journey of family and human love and of a shared faith, no? We have the same Baptism. 

When you feel yourself a sinner – and I’m much more of a sinner – when your husband feels he’s sinned, you go forward to the Lord and ask forgiveness; your husband does the same and also goes to the priest and asks absolution, [thus] I’m healed and kept alive in my Baptism. When you pray together, that Baptism grows, becomes stronger. When you teach your kids who is Jesus? Why did Jesus come? What did Jesus do for us?, you’re doing the same thing, whether in the Lutheran language or the Catholic one, but it’s the same. 

The question [Pope draws question mark with his finger]…. The supper? There are questions that only if one is sincere with oneself and the little theological light one has, must be responded to on one’s own. See for yourself. This is my body. This is my blood. Do it in remembrance of me – this is a viaticum that helps us to journey on. 

I once had a great friendship with a bishop who went a little wrong – 48 years old, he married [then had] two children. This made for great discomfort in him – a Catholic wife, Catholic children, him a bishop. He accompanied them on Sunday, his wife and children, to Mass, and then went to worship with his community…. It was a step toward his participation in the Lord’s Supper. Then he went forward, then the Lord called him [to realize] “I’m not right.” 

I can only respond to your question with a question: what can I do with my husband that the Lord’s Supper might accompany me on my path? It’s a problem that each must answer [for themselves], but a pastor-friend once told me that “We believe that the Lord is present there, he is present” – you believe that the Lord is present. And what's the difference? There are explanations, interpretations, but life is bigger than explanations and interpretations. Always refer back to your baptism – one faith, one baptism, one Lord: this Paul tells us; and then consequences come later. 

I would never dare to give permission to do this, because it’s not my own competence. One baptism, one Lord, one faith. Talk to the Lord and then go forward. [Pauses] And I wouldn't dare – I don’t dare say anything more.

That's an interesting argument--for open communion.

The only authoritative guide is conscience, however formed. Clearly, Catholicism plays no role, as he's responding to a Lutheran here.

Revelation? Eh, no! If you feel that it's the body and blood of Christ in some way, that's what counts. You certainly don't have to buy into that Holy Sacrifice of the Mass/Transubstantiation stuff that only a Doctor of the Law (boo, hiss!) could possibly care about. The re-presentation of Calvary?

It's the supper.

Insisting on more is a majoring in minors that will call down upon you the predictable rhetorical thunder: 

Older Brother! Doctor of the Law! Pharisee! Bat Christian, afraid to dance! Promethian neo-pelagian! In short...

Sure, he offers a lot of equally-emotional language about baptism, but implicit desire for that sacrament will suffice.

Confession? Surely, you jest. 

I'm actually slightly disappointed, because that was one aspect of his program I appreciated--the touting of the sacrament of Penance. Clearly, such is not required of Lutherans, and he's not going to be insisting on such trifles from Christians he actually likes. Indeed, he does not do so here. 

No, sadly it seems that Penance is just for Catholics, and then just as part of a process of ridding oneself of rigorism, judgment, unseemly attachment to doctrine and other Doctor-of-the-Law badness he's trying to flail out of his flock.

And the requirements of Canon Law? 

This Bishop of Rome has an almost-antinomian insouciance towards authoritative laws and rules. So far, it seems he has precisely two uses for the Codex Iuris Canonici: (1) to ensure more annulments and (2) to expeditiously replace bishops who are not on board with his program.


If you can cobble together any objective basis for not receiving the Eucharist using the above rationale deployed by the pontiff, I'm all ears.


The bottom line is that the only guide to receiving is the infallible self, unsullied by exterior concerns (i.e., formation by magisterial teaching). Such, after all, can be corrupting traditions of men and thus cannot be of the mind of Christ. At a bare minimum, they are divisive.

With each man as the bearer of the voice of God, you have, in effect, the Church as a cult of one billion gods. Each equally right, each equally authoritative, each equally beyond challenge.


There are scriptural precedents for such thinking--but not in a good way.

Alas, we have no excuse for such thinking--because we have a King, reigning eternally.