I am a diocesan priest in the parish of Cyrill and Method in the Archdiocese of Vienna, and a teacher at the On Friday, the feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, the archbishop of Vienna, Cardinal Schönborn, will ordain six men to the priesthood: Manuelito Flores, Helmut Gschaider, Andreas Guganeder, Dimitry Merenich, Konstantin Reymaier, and Giovanni Risaliti. Please say a prayer for them.
Aquinas on Sexual Sins – The Dangers of Speaking Formally
Which is worse: adultery or masturbation? Rape or masturbation? Did Aquinas teach that masturbation is a greater sin than rape, because masturbation is unnatural, and rape is not? If so, what did he mean by speaking in this? The suggestion that masturbation is ultimately a greater sin than adultery or rape is immediately repellent to us. In fact it is ridiculous, yet certain authors attribute precisely this position to Thomas Aquinas, reading him to be saying that the sin of masturbation is simply speaking, ultimately, worse than the sins of adultery and rape. Moreover, the further argument is made that the Church upheld this position for a long time, and this (false claim) is used to attack the Church's credibility in sexual ethics. Doubt is sometimes expressed regarding various teachings or practices of the Church, e.g., regarding the Church's affirmation that homosexual intercourse is wrong, or the restriction of priestly ordination in the Roman Rite to those who freely choose to embrace celibacy. The argument is made that if the Church "taught for a thousand years that masturbation is a worse sin than rape", its teaching on sexual matters can't be very sound.
This misunderstanding of the Church's traditional teaching on sins against nature seems to be more prevalent than I realized. I hadn't previously realized how many authors and teachers assert that not only many medieval theologians, but even Thomas Aquinas taught this. Here are some sample quotes from books discussing masturbation in Aquinas:
[In Aquinas's view], Because sins against nature were sins against God, they were considered more serious than sins against other people, such as adultery, seduction, and rape (John F. Schumaker, Religion and Mental Health [Oxford University Press US], 1992), 76).To make his point perfectly clear, Aquinas poses a question: are not rape and adultery worse than unnatural acts, since they harm other persons, while consensual sins against nature do not? The answer is unequivocal: the four non-procreative forms of sex are worse, since–though not harmful to others–they are sins directly against God himself as the creator of nature. According to this logic, rape, which may at least lead to pregnancy, becomes a less serious sin than masturbation (Louis Crompton, Homosexuality and Civilisation, [Harvard University Press, 2006], 188).
"A practice opposed to the pattern set for us by nature" exceeds in wickedness the seduction of an innocent of the opposite sex, adultery, and rape (II-II 154:12) (Sex from Plato to Paglia, by Alan Soble [Greenwood Publishing Group, 2006], 1053).
One unfamiliar with the scholastic manner of speaking formally about an issue, that is, addressing precisely the question at hand, might easily get this impression from Aquinas's treatment of sexual "sins against nature."
Here is the text itself. In the Summa Theologiae II-II, q. 154, a. 12, Aquinas says:
In each kind of thing the worst corruption is the corruption of the principle on which other things depend. Now the principles of reason are the things in accord in nature… and therefore, to act against what is determined by nature, is most serious and base. Therefore since in the sins against nature man transgress what is determined by nature in regard to sex, the sin in this matter is the gravest kind of sin. After this is incest… while by the other species of lust one transgresses only that which is determined according to right reason, but presupposing the natural principles. But it is more contrary to reason to have sex not only contrary to the good of the offspring to be born, but also with injury to another. And therefore simple fornication, which is committed without injury to another person, is the least kind of lust.
The first objection of the article argues that sins against nature are not the worst, because they are not the most contrary to charity: "The more a sin is contrary to charity the graver it is. Now adultery, seduction and rape, which are injurious to our neighbor, seem to be more contrary to the love of our neighbor, than unnatural sins, by which no other person is injured. Therefore sin against nature is not the greatest among the species of lust." St. Thomas replies to this objection: "As the order of right reason is from man, so the order of nature is from God himself. And therefore in sins against nature, in which the very order of nature is violated, injury is done to God himself, the one who ordains nature."
Aquinas is focusing on the sins precisely as a violation of the right use of sexuality, and abstracting from other aspects of them. As justice is a greater virtue than chastity, so injustice is a greater evil than unchastity, and thus all things considered, Aquinas would consider rape a greater evil than masturbation or contraception. This formal way of speaking is recognized by some more considerate authors:
The teaching of medieval theologians that such sexual sins as masturbation, sodomy, and contraception are more perverse, as sexual sins, than fornication or adultery or even rape (the former were said to be contra naturam whereas the latter were said to be praeter naturam), angers many people today. But this teaching must be understood properly. The medieval theologians are claiming that certain kinds of sexual sins more seriously offend the virtue of chastity than do others. They are not saying that these sins are for this reason less grave as sins than adultery or rape, for instance. After all, adultery and rape are very serious violations of the virtue of justice as well as being violations of the virtue of chastity. Thus, as a sin, rape is far more serious than masturbation or homosexual sodomy because it not only offends chastity but also gravely violates justice. (Ronald David Lawler, Joseph M. Boyle, William E. May, Catholic sexual ethics: a summary, explanation & defense).
It is important to understand this formal way of speaking, considering one aspect of human behavior and abstracting from other aspects. But as Aquinas himself says in another context, "where such a manner of speaking is found in the writings of an authority, one should not continue to speak in this manner, but should piously explain what is said" (Summa Theologiae I, q. 31, a. 4, loose translation).
In regards to the comparison between fornication and masturbation, St. Thomas may have in mind fornication in an instance where there is a potential marriage between the two persons (even if they are not engaged), since otherwise it would be contrary to the good of the offspring who might be born. Whether he had this in mind or not, it does seem to me that there are many cases where fornication is worse than masturbation, on account of the harm done to the other party, and on account of the potential harm of children conceived and born as a result (e.g., if they are thereby deprived of the presence of one parent in the home).
The Reception of Thomas Aquinas
I would agree that Thomas Aquinas's classification of sins as received by moralists in following centuries became a problem, in part because it was not used formally, but materially; that is, the descriptions of sins and the various gravity of different sins or aspects of sins were applied directly to physical, material acts. Even Alphonsus Liguori, named the patron of confessors and moralists by Pope Pius XII, seems to have fallen into this error. And in this respect I do see problems with the Church's usual approach to sexual morality for centuries, not sexual morality in particular however, but simply morality in general, the tendency being to take an extrinsic, legalistic approach to morality, and to focus on sins, rather than an approach focused on the real nature of human goods. This was to some extent an outgrowth of nominalism, which made of natural law a kind of arbitrary imposition by God's will. In another post I'll come back to this general topic of legalistic morality.
Update:
I gather from the questions that bring people to this post that this anachronistic reading of Thomas Aquinas (and the other scholastics) is a common one. Aside from some general queries such as "contra naturam in Aquinas," or "Aquinas' thoughts on rape," or "Aquinas on sexual morality," "Thomas Aquinas on masturbation," "Aquinas' views on rape," there are a number of questions that suggest having encountered such a view:
1. When did rape become worse than masturbation? (Related questions: Rape is not as bad as masturbation? Is masturbation a greater sin than rape? Masturbation worse than incest? Which is worse, masturbation or adultery?)
It was all along. But if the question is meant in the sense "when did people stop making technical lists of how fundamentally an act goes against the sexual purpose of the genital organs?", the answer is, "when they in general stopped making such technical lists."
2. Is masturbation worse than fornication? (Similar related queries: Is masturbation a greater sin than having sex? [This must mean "having sex" outside of a marital relationship.]; is masturbation better or worse than actual intercourse?)
In most cases not. First, as noted above, in the many cases where the present relationship or the capacity for a committed and unselfish relationship in the future is seriously harmed, or where danger to offspring is present, fornication is objectively graver. Moreover, masturbation requires, and in most cases involves, a much less deliberate act of will than fornication does, and therefore the sin is any case subjectively less bad.
3. The catholic church taught that masturbation is worse than rape because at least the latter might result in conception. (Related questions: Rape is much less a sin than masturbation. Masturbation is worse than rape? [Did] Aquinas [teach that] rape is better than masturbation?)
No, it didn't.
4. Is masturbation worse than adultery?
No.
Send Forth Thy Spirit
Send forth thy Spirit, O Lord, and renew the face of the earth!
Homily of Pope Benedict for the Solemnity of Pentecost (Italian text at the Vatican website)
Dear Brothers and Sisters!
Every time we celebrate the Eucharist, we live in faith the mystery that is accomplished on the altar, that is, we participate in the supreme act of love that Christ realized with his death and resurrection. The unique center of the liturgy and of Christian life — the paschal mystery — then assumes, on different solemnities and feasts, specific "forms," with further meanings and particular gifts of grace. Among all the solemnities, Pentecost is distinguished by its importance, because in it that which Jesus himself proclaimed as the purpose of his whole mission on earth is accomplished. In fact, while he was going up to Jerusalem, he declared to the disciples: "I have come to cast fire on the earth, and how I wish that it were already kindled!" (Luke 12:49). These words find their most obvious realization 50 days after the resurrection, on Pentecost, the ancient Hebrew feast that, in the Church, has become the feast of the Holy Spirit par excellence: "There appeared to them parted tongues as of fire … and all were filled with the Holy Spirit" (Acts 2:3-4). The Holy Spirit, the true fire, was brought to earth by Christ. He did not steal it from the gods — as Prometheus did according to the Greek myth — but he became the mediator of the "gift of God," obtaining it for us with the greatest act of love in history: his death on the cross.
God wants to give this "fire" to every human generation, and naturally he is free to do this as and when he wants. He is spirit, and the spirit "blows where it wills" (cf. John 3:8). However, there is an "ordinary way" that God himself has chosen for "casting fire upon the earth": this way is Jesus, the incarnate only begotten Son of God, who died and is risen. For his part, Jesus Christ established the Church as his mystical body, so that it might prolong his mission in history. "Receive the Holy Spirit" — the Lord says to the Apostles on the evening of his resurrection, accompanying those words with an expressive gesture: he "breathed" on them (cf. John 20:22). Thus he showed that he was giving them his Spirit, the Spirit of the Father and of the Son.
Now, dear brothers and sisters, in today's solemnity Scripture tells us how the community must be, how we must be to receive the Holy Spirit. In the account that describes the event of Pentecost, the sacred author writes that the disciples "were together in the same place." This "place" is the Cenacle, the "upper room," where Jesus had held the Last Supper with his disciples, where he appeared to them, after having risen from the dead; that room that had become the "seat," so to speak, of the nascent Church (cf. Acts 1:13). Yet the Acts of the Apostles intends more to indicate the interior attitude of the disciples than to insist on a physical place: "They all persevered in concord and prayer" (Acts 1:14). So, the concord of the disciples is the condition for the coming of the Holy Spirit; and presupposed to concord is prayer.
Dear brothers and sisters, this is also true for the Church of today. It is true for us who are gathered here together. If we do not want Pentecost to be reduced to a simple ritual or to a suggestive commemoration, but that it be a real event of present salvation, we must predispose ourselves, through a humble and silent listening to God's Word, to God's gift in religious openness. In order that Pentecost may renew itself in our time, perhaps there is need — without taking anything away from God's freedom — for the Church to be less "preoccupied" with activity and more dedicated to prayer. Mary Most Holy, the Mother of the Church and Bride of the Holy Spirit, teaches us this. This year Pentecost occurs on the last day of May, when the Feast of the Visitation is customarily celebrated. This event was also a kind of little "Pentecost," which brought forth joy and praise from the hearts of Elizabeth and Mary — the one barren and the other a virgin — who both became mothers by an extraordinary divine intervention (cf. Luke 1:41-45).
The music and singing that is accompanying our liturgy, also help us to be united in prayer, and in this regard I express a lively acknowledgment to the choir of the Cologne cathedral and the Cologne Chamber Orchestra. Joseph Haydn's "Harmoniemesse," the last of the Masses composed by this great musician, and a sublime symphony for the glory of God, was chosen for today's Mass. The Haydn Mass was a fitting choice given that it is the bicentennial of the composer's death. I address a cordial greeting to all those who have come for this.
To indicate the Holy Spirit, in the account of Pentecost in the Acts of the Apostles, two great images are used: the image of the tempest and the image of fire. Clearly, St. Luke had in mind the theophany of Sinai, recounted in Exodus (19:16-19) and Deuteronomy (4:10-12:36). In the ancient world the tempest was seen as a sign of divine power, in whose presence man felt subjugated and terrified. But I would like to highlight another aspect: the tempest is described as a "driving wind," and this brings to mind the air that distinguishes our planet from others and permits us to live on it. What air is for biological life, the Holy Spirit is for the spiritual life; and as there is air pollution, which poisons the environment and living things, so there is a pollution of the heart and the spirit, which mortifies and poisons spiritual existence. In the same way that we should not be complacent about the poisons in the air — and for this reason ecological efforts are a priority today — we should also not be complacent about that which corrupts the spirit. But instead it seems that our minds and hearts are menaced by many pollutants that circulate in society today — the images, for example, that make pleasure a spectacle, violence that degrades men and women — and people seem to habituate themselves to this without any problem. This is said to be freedom, without recognizing that all this pollutes, poisons the soul, above all the soul of the new generations, and ends up limiting freedom itself. The metaphor of the driving wind of Pentecost makes one think of how precious it is to breathe clean air, whether it be physical air with our lungs, or spiritual air — the healthy air of the spirit that is love — with our heart.
The other image of the Holy Spirit that we find in the Acts of the Apostles is that of fire. At the beginning I compared Jesus with the mythological figure of Prometheus. The figure of Prometheus suggests a characteristic aspect of modern man. Taking control of the energies of the cosmos — "fire" — today human beings seem to claim themselves as gods and want to transform the world excluding, putting aside or simply rejecting the Creator of the universe. Man no longer wants to be the image of God but the image of himself; he declares himself autonomous, free, adult. Obviously that reveals an inauthentic relationship with God, the consequence of a false image that has been constructed of him, like the prodigal son in the Gospel parable who thought that he could find himself by distancing himself from the house of his father. In the hands of man in this condition, "fire" and its enormous possibilities become dangerous: they can destroy life and humanity itself, as history unfortunately shows. The tragedies of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, in which atomic energy, used as a weapon, ended up bringing death in unheard of proportions, remain a perennial warning.
We could of course find many examples, less grave and yet just as symptomatic, in the reality of everyday life. Sacred Scripture reveals that the energy that has the ability to move the world is not an anonymous and blind power, but the action of the "spirit of God that broods over the waters" (Genesis 1:2) at the beginning of creation. And Jesus Christ "cast upon the earth" not a native power that was already present but the Holy Spirit, that is, the love of God, who "renews the face of the earth," purifying it of evil and liberating it from the dominion of death (cf. Psalm 103 [104]: 29-30). This pure "fire," essential and personal, the fire of love, descended upon the Apostles, gathered together with Mary in prayer in the cenacle, to make the Church the extension of Christ's work of renewal.
Finally, a last thought also taken from the Acts of the Apostles: the Holy Spirit overcomes fear. We know that the disciples fled to the cenacle after the Master's arrest and remained there out of fear of suffering the same fate. After Jesus' resurrection this fear did not suddenly disappear. But when the Holy Spirit descended upon them at Pentecost, those men went out without fear and began to proclaim the good news of Christ crucified and risen. They had no fear, because they felt that they were in stronger hands. Yes, dear brothers and sisters, where the Spirit of God enters, he chases out fear; he makes us know and feel that we are in the hands of an Omnipotence of love: whatever happens, his infinite love will not abandon us. The witness of the martyrs, the courage of the confessors, the intrepid élan of missionaries, the frankness of preachers, the example of all the saints — some who were even adolescents and children — demonstrate this. It is also demonstrated by the very existence of the Church, which, despite the limits and faults of men, continues to sail across the ocean of history, driven by the breath of God and animated by his purifying fire. With this faith and this joyous hope we repeat today, through Mary's intercession: "Send forth thy Spirit, O Lord, and renew the face of the earth!"
Priestly vocation, holiness and service
Can the desire "to become perfect," to grow in holiness, be one's motivation for being ordained a priest? On first consideration, this might seem totally inappropriate, as the priesthood is not given in the first place for a man's personal perfection, but in order for him to serve Christ, as his representative. Thus, St. Alphonsus Ligouri, while he describes the right motivation for religious life as "to bind oneself more closely to God, or to correct the transgressions of one's past life, or to fly from the dangers of the world," describes the right motivation that is a sign of a vocation to the priesthood differently, saying that one should desire "to serve God, to spread his glory and to save souls."
This difference between religious life and priesthood, namely that religious life is directly ordered to a personal and real conformity with Christ, to perfection in love of Christ, and thereby to the service of the community and building up the Church in love, while the priesthood is directly ordered to a sacramental and representative conformity to Christ, to the service of the community in Christ's name, is a real difference, and does imply that one's motivation for the priesthood in a certain sense cannot be primarily for one's personal perfection in the Christian life.
However, this sharp division (personal perfection in Christian life, service of the Church, etc.) is not the concrete way in which a vocation is usually experienced. The Apostles did not know in all specificity what they were being called to when Christ said, "Come, follow me." They were attracted by his person or inspired by his mission, and they followed him both to be with him and to accompany him on his mission. In most cases, a person perceiving a vocation cannot define his motivation to embrace that way of life in terms of a very precise single goal. He chooses the way of life as a whole, with all that is included in it.
Now, is a special call to perfection included in the priesthood? It is. John Paul II, in Pastores Dabo Vobis, says that priests "are called not only because they have been baptized, but also and specifically because they are priests, that is, under a new title and in new and different ways deriving from the sacrament of holy orders" (n. 19). And Vatican II says, "Since every priest in his own way represents the person of Christ himself, he is endowed with a special grace. By this grace the priest, through his service of the people committed to his care and all the People of God, is able the better to pursue the perfection of Christ, whose place he takes" (Presbyterorum Ordinis, n. 12). The awareness of this special calling and grace, often concretized by experience of holy priests, can be included in the discernment and decision to offer oneself for the priesthood, to seek ordination. Whatever the special aspects of priestly life that initially attract one to it, what is essential is that it be embraced in its totality. E.g., one person might, prior to any thought of the priesthood, be drawn to celibacy, to devote his life to the things of God, and through this desire come to desire the priesthood in particular. Another person might not at first be particularly drawn to celibacy, and first find his vocation to it in his desire to serve others in the ministerial priesthood, which in the Roman Rite is connected with celibacy. (In this latter case it is nonetheless important that he come to appreciate the proper value of celibacy and to embrace it freely, and not only as a extra obligation he has to submit to in order to be a priest. But that's matter for another post.) Similarly, the "path to perfection" of the priesthood might be for one person an important aspect of his initial aspect desire for it, while for another person it is not, and only in his desire for and commitment to living a good priestly life that he sees in that way of life his path to perfection.
Related: Priesthood and Perfection and The Priest in Union with Christ by Garrigou-Lagrange
Judging, Part 3 (Therese of Lisieux)
To apply the principles mentioned in the previous posts, of judging doubtful cases positively or favorably, without being negligent to remedy problems (which presupposes at least a tentative judgment), it is helpful to bear several things in mind: (1) our knowledge of ourselves and of others is always limited; (2) there is always some good to be found in everything; (3) recognizing this good is good for ourselves and for others; St. Therese of Lisieux says “We should always judge others with love, for often what seems to us to be negligence, is an heroic deed in God's sight.” (CS 107) And again:
Yes, I know when I show charity to others, it is simply Jesus acting in me, and the more closely I am united to Him, the more dearly I love my Sisters. If I wish to increase this love in my heart, and the devil tries to bring before me the defects of a Sister, I hasten to look for her virtues, her good motives; I call to mind that though I may have seen her fall once, no doubt she has gained many victories over herself, which in her humility she conceals. It is even possible that what seems to me a fault, may very likely, on account of her good intention, be an act of virtue. I have no difficulty in persuading myself of this, because I have had the same experience. (MsC, 12v/13r)
Regarding the second and third point, the possibility of seeing good in things, and the value of doing so, St. Therese says, speaking about circumstances generally, “I always see the bright side of things. There are people who always take everything from the most painful point of view. I do just the opposite. If I am faced with pure suffering; when heaven is so black that there is no bright spot to be seen anywhere, I then make that itself a source of joy” (DE 215/27.5). And about persons, “There is nothing sweeter than to think well of one’s neighbor,” (CS 25) and “Charity consists in disregarding the faults of our neighbor, not being astonished at the sight of their weakness, but in being edified by the smallest acts of virtue we see them practice.”
Regarding the first point, the limitation of our knowledge, which never extends to a person's responsibility before God: “Even when there doesn't seem to be any excuse, we always have the possibility of saying: 'this person is obviously wrong, but she does not know it.'” (CS 107)
(4) A fourth point to keep in mind: love can be visible even in correcting, rebuking, etc., and we should strive to make it thus visible. St. Therese did not hesitate to speak the truth, even when it was not necessarily pleasant to hear: “I say the whole truth. If someone doesn't want to hear it, they shouldn't come to me.” (DE 203/18.4.3) Correcting in a loving manner does not mean that one does so in a “soft” manner, but that one does so not merely for the sake of abstract “rightness,” but of the person one corrects. St. Therese says:
In order that a reprimand bear fruit, we must give it dispassionately. When we have scolded a person, within the bounds of justice, let us stop there and not become soft-hearted, tormenting ourselves because we realize we have inflicted pain on someone. To run after the one we have thus afflicted, to console her, is to do her more harm than good. But when we leave her to herself, we force her to expect nothing from the human side, but to have recourse to the good Lord, recognize her faults, and humble herself. Otherwise we shall make her accustomed to being consoled after we have administered a deserved reproof, and she will then act like a spoiled child which jumps with rage and cries, knowing that this will make his mother come to him and wipe away his tears.I know, my Mother, that your little lambs consider me severe… The little lambs may say what they please. Fundamentally they feel that I love them with a genuine love.
This remark of St. Therese can be taken as complementary to the point mentioned in the previous post about St. Catherine, and the identification and sympathy with a person that helps us to form judgments in the appropriate loving manner. Love and correction are not contraries, as though love were the counterbalance to the correction of another person; rather love is to be shown in the very act of correction, and the act of correction is to be moved by and ordered to love. If that is not possible at a given moment, perhaps because we have strong feelings about an issue, we should if at all possible wait before speaking.
Judging, Part 2 (Aquinas)
This post continues the last one, which spoke of “judging” in Scripture and the inseparability of truth and love.
In this connection I would like to look at an article of St. Thomas Aquinas. St. Thomas in the Secunda Secundae of the Summa Theologiae, has an article on judgment in cases of doubt. The question as a whole (question 60) concerns judgment as an act of justice, as in a court, but in this article (the fourth article) he treats the more general question of judging, which concerns all people, not only judges. The question is whether we should interpret cases of doubt in the way that is more favorable to the person concerned. (Read the complete article of Aquinas: On Charitable or Favorable Judgment)
The first objection he raises against this concerns the truth of judgment. The objection is that we should judge in such a way as to be correct as often as possible. But since men are more often inclined to evil—according to Ecclesiastes 1:15 (Vulgate), “The number of fools is infinite”, and Genesis 8:21, “the imagination and thought of man's heart are prone to evil from his youth”—we will be more often right if we interpret doubtful cases on the worse side rather than on the better side.
The second objection similarly is that we should simply judge according to the truth, and not be more inclined to one side then another.
The third objection concerns love. As far as we are ourselves are concerned, we should suppose the worst (According to Job 9:28, Vulgate, “I feared all my works”). But we should love our neighbors as ourselves, and so we should also suppose the worst of them. Therefore in doubtful cases we should be more inclined to judge on the unfavorable side.
In his response to the question and these objections, Thomas sets forth two principles. First, a false judgment by which someone thinks something bad about someone else, is contrary to love of neighbor. Secondly, (and this becomes clear in his response to the objections), a false judgment by which one thinks something good about someone, which is not actually so—e.g., when someone thinks that a person has a good motivation when he does not—is not something very bad and that we definitely need to avoid, but is only a minor evil, very slight in comparison to a false judgment about someone's badness.
That all seems clear: easy to understand, even if not always easy to put into practice. But things get more complicated with Thomas's response to the third objection. There he says, on the one hand, insofar as a judgment is necessary or helpful in order to improve something bad, we should rather be inclined to imagine or suppose what is worse. On the other hand, insofar as a judgment does not lead to action, we should rather be inclined to imagine or suppose what is better about a person.
In both respects the judgment is to be made in favor of love, but in one respect in favor of love in itself, so to speak, and in the other respect in favor of love as effective, as a principle of action. Love, in order to be love, must also act against what is bad and evil. In a famous passage (In Tractate 7 on the First Letter of John), St. Augustine says, “A father beats his Son, a slave-dealer caresses him…. Many things can be done that seem good, but do not spring from the root of love, and in contrast, many seem hard, aggressive, which are done for the sake of discipline, at the command of love. Once for all, therefore, a short commandment is given: Love, and do what you will.”
I believe this is more or less the direction of the entire Christian tradition. To the extent a hypothetical judgment is necessary as principle of action, one should try to judge accurately, even when the judgment is in a certain sense “against” someone or his action. But insofar as a completely definitive judgment is not necessary for that, we should make no definitive negative judgment about someone or his action, unless we cannot avoid such a judgment, because the matter is perfectly evident, which as regards interior motivations, is never the case. In this sense St. Paul says, “Do not pronounce judgment before the time, before the Lord comes, who will bring to light the things now hidden in darkness and will disclose the purposes of the heart. Then every man will receive his commendation from God” (1 Cor 4:5).
But the question, to what extent negative judgments are necessary in order to act rightly, and how these negative judgments, which should never be definitive, are to be kept provisional, is a practical question, not one that can be solved purely theoretically, but is answered through experience, in community with others, and through the impulse of the Holy Spirit.
I made a few more comments on this, and then we discussed it. I will give some of these practical points in the next post.
Judging, Part 1 (Scripture)
The following is taken from notes for a talk I gave last week. I've divided into two parts for this blog.
The theme I've taken for today is that of judging, and the right attitude towards falsehood, bad things, etc. As the point of departure I take two seemingly incompatible demands: the first, the prohibition of judging, the other, the requirement to live according to the truth and to help others to life according to the truth.
The tension between these two demands is not a unique case in Christian teaching. There are a number of tensions in the teaching, tensions that cannot be simply overcome by a deeper understanding. They remain, and they should remain; they help us to keep to the correct mean. For example, St. Augustine is alleged to have said, “Pray as though everything depended on God. Act as though everything depended on you.” Whether or not St. Augustine actually said this, similar apparent contradictions can be found in Scripture itself; St. Paul says that Abraham was justified by faith rather than works, “If Abraham was justified by works, he has something to boast about, but not before God… to one who does not work but trusts him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is reckoned as righteousness” (Romans 4:2,5), while St. James says that he was justified by works: “Was not Abraham our father justified by works, when he offered his son Isaac upon the altar?” (James 2:21) While there is no real contradiction between the two–since everything we do is both from God, and from ourselves—this tension is necessary so that we may neither become negligent, nor try to live rightly on our own without God's grace, which is impossible.
In the case of judging, Christ says “Judge not, that you be not judged.” This saying is found in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke (Matthew 7:1, Luke 6:37). Also in the Gospel of John, Jesus says that he was not sent into the world to judge the world (John 3:17), that he judges no one (John 8:15); even when someone hears his words and does not follow them, he does not judge him (John 12:47). This may be seen as the biblical ground for “tolerance,” and in a certain sense is.
St. Paul lays down a similar rule. Regarding the decision to eat meat or not, he says, “How can you judge the servant of another?” (Romans 14:4). It is the Lord who judges (1 Cor 4:4), not we.
St. James says the same: “He that speaks evil against a brother or judges his brother, speaks evil against the law and judges the law. But if you judge the law, you are not a doer of the law but a judge. There is one lawgiver and judge, he who is able to save and to destroy. But who are you that you judge your neighbor?” (James 4:11-12) And again, “Do not grumble, brethren, against one another, that you may not be judged” (James 5:9).
Is the modern replacement or at least equation of the law of love with the love of tolerance therefore justified? That would be a precipitate claim. There are also many scripture texts which presuppose or require some form of judgment. Immediately before the commandment of love of neighbor in Leviticus is a prohibition of hate: “You shall not hate your brother in your heart”; and immediately following, “but you shall reprove (yakah, which can be translated “judge, rebuke, correct”) your neighbor, lest you bear sin because of him” (Leviticus 19:17).
Jesus says “Matthew 18:15-17 If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother. But if he does not listen, take one or two others along with you, that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or three witnesses. If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if he refuses to listen even to the church, let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector” (Matthew 18:15-17). In order to act when “your brother sins,” one must first make a judgment that he does.
And although Jesus gives as advice, “if any one strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also,” (Matthew 5:39), when before the high priest “one of the officers standing by struck Jesus with his hand, saying, 'Is that how you answer the high priest?'” Jesus answered, “If I have spoken wrongly, bear witness to the wrong; but if I have spoken rightly, why do you strike me?” (John 18:22-23). It is not, then, a matter of never defending oneself, but of being ready not to defend oneself, to be silent before accusation when that is helpful for charity's sake.
St. Paul, too, is not silent when unjustly struck, but says, “God shall strike you, you whitewashed wall! Are you sitting to judge me according to the law, and yet contrary to the law you order me to be struck?” (Acts 23:3) clearly speaking on the basis of the judgment that Ananias is acting unjustly. Again he says, “If a man is overtaken in any trespass, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Look to yourself, lest you too be tempted” (Galatians 6:1). “Restoring him” requires first recognizing the trespass.
This tension arises from an important fundamental principle, the inseparability of love and truth. Love and truth must remain linked, for two reasons: first, a person, in contrast to a thing, is distinguished by the ability to attain truth and to act according to it. If love or a loving relationship is to be really personal, it must correspond to the nature and truth of the persons. In his homily for the beatification of Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, Pope John Paul II paraphrases or cites her: “Accept nothing as truth, if it is without love. And accept nothing as love, if it is without truth. One without the other becomes a destructive lie.” And St. Paul says that love, “Does not rejoice at the wrong, but rejoices with the truth” (1 Cor 13:6).
The second, and deeper basis for the inseparability of truth and love, is their identity in one person, in Christ. As Christians we believe in a truth which is a person, which is the God who is love itself, and whose love we have the privilege of experience through his giving himself for us.
This necessary connection between love and truth is one of the main criteria by which the Church recognizes whether or not something is from God. St. John says expressly, on the side of truth and acknowledgment, “Every spirit which confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God” (1 John 4:2), an on the side of love, “Everyone who loves, is from God and knows God” (1 John 4:7) As we heard in the reading for today, when we live in the darkness, i.e., in hate, we do not do the truth, and do not know where we go. When we live in love, we are in the light, i.e., in the truth, and know where we go.
But although love and truth are mutually complementary, and in Christ are identical, they possess different aspects, and it is not always easy to see in concrete cases how they are to be united. Hence arises the tension that we saw in the simultaneous prohibition of judging and the requirement of “correcting”
To be continued…
Vocation Sunday
This Fourth Sunday of Easter is Good Shepherd Sunday (so called by reason of the Gospel read at Mass today). Pope Paul VI designated Good Shepherd Sunday as a World Day of Prayer for Vocations, and it still remains this. It is a fitting day for vocations on account of the Gospel for the Mass: The Shepherd knows the sheep, and calls them by name, and they hear his voice and follow him.
Pope Benedict XVI, in his message for this day, encourages "faith in the divine initiative", which should lead to confident prayer for vocations, as well as inspire the human response of trusting self-abandonment to the shepherd who calls. He sets forth Jesus as the supreme model of complete and trusting adherence to the Father's will, the model to whom every consecrated person must look. Also exemplary is the Blessed Virgin Mary's generous "Amen" to God's plan told her through the angel.
Catherine of Siena
Today at our spiritual hour I gave an introduction to the theme of judging (or not), and of the union between truth and love, after which a discussion followed. After I translate my talk into English and clean it up it a bit, I'll post it (or at least part of it) here. But for today, the feast of St. Catherine of Siena (in English occasionally spelled Sienna), a co-patroness of Europa (St. Benedict is the first patron), I'll just jot down some points about St. Catherine. I had remarked that the theme of not definitively judging/condemning while at the same time being ready to correct false behavior was illustrated by St. Catherine, who was quite bold even in her correction of the pope, and yet always showed respect for and obedience to him. In the discussion, in response to the question how we can reconcile the problem of avoiding negative judgments of other persons that are contrary to charity, with the necessity of making judgments in order to correct harmful situations, harmful and bad behavior, etc., a piece of advice from St. Catherine of Siena was pointed out. When we are affected by someone's bad behavior, before we set up seeking to correct it, we should mentally bear the consequences of that bad behavior, in the spirit of Christ, who bore the sins of the world. This identification and sympathy with the person enables one to approach them not as though an enemy, or condescendingly, as to someone beneath oneself, but as a friend in Christ, or one whom one loves that they might be a friend. This fundamental attitude provides a strong basis for making a judgment in the manner necessary, without condemning.
(Image of St. Catherine is from the Church of San Domenico, in Siena, Italy)
Theology of the Body Symposium
The Second International Theology of the Body Symposium, in Maynooth, Ireland, will be held on the weekend of the Feast of Corpus Christi, in anticipation of the thirtieth anniversary of Pope John Paul II's visit to Ireland. 2009 also marks thirty years since the first Papal Audience on the Theology of The Body.
The Symposium on the Theology of the Body aims at exploring ever deeper the goodness, truth and beauty of the Divine plan for human love. It will present the Theology of the Body itself as a unified whole, approaching it from spiritual, theological, philosophical, anthropological, and ethical perspectives. The Speakers (Dr. Michael Waldstein, Kathy Sinnott, Fr. Donald Calloway, and others) will present individual sections of the work according to their expertise, complemented by talks placing the Theology of the Body in its historical-cultural, political and medical context. The talks will be given in a language that is broadly accessible, that is, not accessible to scholars alone.
The registration fee is €135 for waged participants and €95 for students and unwaged. The fee includes attendance, meals (excluding breakfast), and tea/coffee breaks for the four days of the Symposium and a wine reception on Thursday evening. Those who cannot come, but would like to support the event, are encouraged to make a donation for it.