From the
archives - Published from 1982-96, Fidelity magazine was the predecessor of Culture Wars.
How I Won the Debate
By E. Michael Jones
From the October 1993 issue of Fidelity
magazine
As events like this go,
it was a big crowd. And it was a partisan crowd as well. Let's face
it, there is only one group of people in the world who thinks that the topic,
"The Society of St. Pius X is in Schism," is debatable and that is
the Society itself. Schismatic groups have this peculiar characteristic:
they never consider themselves in schism. Eventually they all travel the
same trajectory, whose end point is always the same. We, the schismatic
group tells itself, are the true Catholic Church, the true Church of Christ
(however you want to phrase it) and they, meaning the almost 1 billion people
who in fact do belong to the Church are in fact the real schismatics.
They (say, "the Novus Ordo Church" or some such appellation)
have defected from the faith of history and are now imposters. We
(meaning the SSPX) will go on courageously preserving "tradition" (of
course, as we define it) until we are vindicated by history and in effect the
Novus Ordo Church admits that we were right all along. I was to hear all
of this from my opponent before the night was over, but I was also to get
unexpected confirmation of my thesis that the SSPX was in schism as well.
My position, as my
remarks make clear, was that the issue of schism was essentially theological
and not legal. Mr. Davies, my opponent, on the other hand, attempted to
pose the issue in purely legal terms. The case of Mr. Davies is a sad
one. He seems like a sensitive fellow who is not quite comfortable being
where he is, doing what he is doing. At the beginning of his remarks, he
seemed unsure of himself, in fact, a little nervous. His hands were
shaking: he confused what he had to say repeatedly and then claimed to be the
victim of jet lag.
Yet as the evening goes
on he seems to gather strength from the reaction of the crowd, which has very
definite ideas of what it wants to hear. They want to hear that
Archbishop Weakland is a bad man; they want to hear innuendo about the bishop
of Honolulu, and, of course, Mr. Davies is only to happy to oblige. And
the more the crowd reacts favorably to his pandering the more emboldened he
becomes, working himself and the crowd into a frenzy of mutual
self-congratulation. "Thank God for Archbishop Lefebvre," et
cetera; that sort of thing. The crowd roars back its approval of what it
wanted to hear in the first place, namely, that they and not the group who
follow the pope in Rome are the real Catholic Church and that they will
eventually be vindicated by history, when Rome at some unspecified date finally
admits that they were right all along. It was religious consumerism with
a vengeance, as bad as anything you might see at the Medjugorje conference at
Notre Dame. The Lefebvrites have an especially bad case of itching
ears. They love Mr. Davies because he scratches them just where they
itch, and if they say a little bit farther down and to the right, Mr. Davies is
only to happy to oblige. Mr. Davies gives them reasons to feel that they
are right, and the people in the Society reciprocate by giving him money and
attention. It is a symbiotic relationship in which every one comes away
happy, but one which unfortunately lacks any contact not only with Rome but
with reality as well. It is the spiritual equivalent of co-dependency.
Davies, as I said, tries
to portray the whole issue from a legal point of view, arguing first from the
necessity defense, then plea bargaining so that his client might be convicted
instead of the lesser offense of disobedience rather than schism, and then
attempting to get the whole case dismissed on a technicality by claiming that
the Pope didn't understand the code of canon law and, beyond that, that three
unnamed canon lawyers agreed with Mr. Davies in this regard. The crowd,
of course, was not what you might call disinterested observers in this
debate. If Davies was wrong, then they were in deep spiritual doo-doo,
and so they reacted in a way to assure Mr. Davies that he was not wrong.
And Mr. Davies reacted to them in a way as to assure them that they were
right. The one fed on the other. The more Davies pandered, the
louder the crowd cheered.
My position, as I
indicated earlier, was that behind any legal designations was the thing itself.
Schism was refusal to obey the pope and refusal to maintain communion
with those who remained in communion with them. This refusal to maintain
communion was the essence of schism and it had grown for years under Archbishop
Lefebvre unto it gradually suffused the whole society and the writings of Mr.
Davies as well. In his article "Who is Schismatic?"
Davies wonders:
"One also feels
bound to ask how much confidence one can place in the resolution of a Pope who
maintains communion with Archbishop Weakland and who surrendered so abjectly to
the pro-Hunthausen lobby in the American hierarchy."
After citing the above
quote in my talk, I asked, almost rhetorically but in a way that was directed
at Mr. Davies himself, "Is the pope tainted by maintaining communion
with Archbishop Weakland?" The crowd, however, evidently
understood the question as directed at them. No sooner were the words out
of my mouth, than they roared with what seemed one voice, "Yes."
I rest my case.
One wonders if St.
Augustine ever got such immediate confirmation of what he was trying to say
from the Donatists. Whether he did or didn't, the crowd decided to prove
my point for me that night. Schism pervaded not only the Society and the
writings of Mr. Davies, it pervaded the hall as well. The only thing
lacking was intellectual consistency. The crowd would maintain that the
pope was tainted, and that they were therefore justified in breaking communion
with the Pope but they would not admit that was schism. Mr. Davies
abetted them in their evasion although he would not admit that the pope was
tainted. In this he was no less schismatic than the crowd he pandered to,
only less forthright.
What follows is the text
of my opening remarks. Tapes
of the debate are available through Fidelity. I encourage our readers to
check my impressions against their own.
Resolved: The Society of St. Pius X is in Schism
We are here tonight to
debate a simple proposition. Is the Society of St. Pius X in schism?
Yes or no? In another healthier age this would be tantamount to
debating whether the sun rises in the east every morning. But the fact is
we do not live in another age nor is our age known for its spiritual health.
In this regard this debate here tonight reminds me of a debate which took
place not too long ago at the University of Notre Dame between Father James T.
Burtchaell C.S.C. of the University of Notre Dame and former Father Daniel
Maguire of Marquette University in Milwaukee.
The topic was abortion,
whether it was right or wrong, whether the Church opposed it, which struck me
then as a little bit like debating whether the sun set in the west every
evening. That debate was not a sign of health for the Catholic Church in
this country. It was a sign that Catholic academe had become so
contaminated with the categories of liberalism as practiced in this country in
this century that a proposition that has been a part of the Catholic tradition
since the writing of the Didache -- that abortion was an unspeakable crime to
use the formulation condemning it in the second Vatican Council -- a
proposition that should have been as obvious to them as "Good is to be
pursued and evil avoided" or "A thing cannot both be and not
be the same thing in the same place in the same time and manner" had
suddenly become debatable. The fact that the debate took place at all was
a sign of how great the apostasy of the Catholic intellectuals is in this
country's Catholic colleges and universities.
The fact that we are
here tonight is another bad sign. In fact, there are remarkable
similarities between that debate then and this one now. The fact that we
are debating at all is an indication in the first instance of Catholic
academe's defection from the Church, and in this instance of the deep divisions
that are rending the unity of the Church as a result. In healthier times,
no one would have referred to a solemnly pronounced motu proprio given
by the pope as debatable. But, as I said before, these are not healthy
times. Liberalism is the last modern ideology of our century.
Nazism, Communism, and Fascism along with a whole host of other ideologies have
all marched off into the dust bin of history. But liberalism, as the last
election in this country showed, has a hold on this country and in many ways on
the world as a whole. Liberalism, the modern ideology peculiar to this
country, is much more widespread than one would imagine. It would be
unfair to blame only the universities, although they are surely guilty of
apostasy in this regard. Even the defenders of "traditionalism"
have adopted its rhetoric as of late.
In a recent letter to
the editor, Mr. Davies, my opponent in this debate, announced that "the
Society [of St. Pius X] is in no way schismatic and I do not have the
least scruple in assisting at its masses." In addition to being
dismayed at his defiance of the clear words of the Pope, I was struck by the uncanny
similarities between "traditionalism" as practiced by the Society of
St. Pius X and the rhetoric of liberalism as practiced by Professor Maguire and
groups like Catholics for Free Choice. Both Davies and Maguire were
proselytizing for a position in direct defiance of either faith or morals, and
both when faced with the insurmountable mountain of evidence against them fell
back on the rhetoric of liberalism to make their point. Professor Maguire
would claim that Catholics of good will could disagree on whether abortion was
wrong. Mr. Davies takes the same tack on the position of schism. "The
status of the Society of St. Pius X," Mr. Davies opines, "is
a matter concerning which there can be a legitimate difference of
opinion." In his pamphlet I Am With You Always, published
in 1986, Mr. Davies tells us that the faithful "have the right to
refuse to obey (the Pope) if they are convinced in conscience that a
particular command will harm rather than build up the Mystical Body."
This is the rhetoric of
Catholics for Free Choice, but it brings with it a number of unanswered
questions in its wake. Just how do we know that the Society is "convinced
in conscience" any more than Catholic for Free Choice is? Both
groups are adamant in telling the Pope he is wrong on something. Both
groups posit criteria for disagreement that reveal themselves to be nothing but
subjectivism. In essence both Catholics for Free Choice and the Society
of St. Pius X are, first of all, telling us that private judgment is equal to
the authority of the pope in matters of faith and morals and, secondly, that
this liberal notion is somehow compatible with the Catholic faith.
My position,
which I hope to show is the Catholic position, is clear. First of all,
schism is in its way every bit as bad as abortion. Secondly, the Society
of St. Pius X is in schism. Thirdly, if they are not then there is no
such thing as schism and fourthly that in presuming to be traditional in
defiance of the wishes of the pope, Mr. Davies and the Society are not only
committing the grave sin of schism, they are also in an uncanny fashion
succumbing to the very liberalism they claim to oppose by making private
judgment the ultimate criterion in matters of religion.
But let s get back to
some basic definitions first. First of all what is schism? Mr.
Davies implies more than once that only a person who denies that he is subject
to the pope is guilty of schism. He contrasts this with what he terms
mere disobedience, where the person refuses to do what the Pope orders.
In an article in the Christian Order which appeared in November
1982, Davies claims that "If anyone denies that he is subject to the
Supreme Pontiff . . . he is schismatic." In a letter to the
editor which appeared in Daily Telegraph of July 6, 1988 he writes
that "a Catholic who for some grave reason, on a matter not involving
faith or morals, feels bound in conscience to disobey the pope in a particular
instance without wishing to sever himself from the Church or deny the authority
of he Pope, cannot be said to be in schism."
These definitions are,
as they say, interesting, but they are totally the creation of Michael Davies.
As before, Davies puts heavy emphasis on the subjective. In true
liberal fashion he claims that the subjective state of the person committing
the act is more important than the ontological status of the act itself.
If the person believes sincerely that there is a state of emergency in
the Church or does not question the authority of the pope then the act of schism
is not present.
That is Mr. Davies
position. But what is the position of the Catholic Church? Canon
751 of the 1983 Code of Canon Law states that schism is the refusal of
submission to the roman Pontiff or of communion with the members of the Church
subject to him. In case Mr. Davies finds the 1983 Code tainted with the
spirit of Vatican II, I draw his attention to Canon 1325 of the 1917 code which
states that "if anyone refuses to be subject to the Supreme Pontiff or
if he refuses communion with those members of the church who are subject to him
he is schismatic." And if Mr. Davies feels that the 1917 code
is hopelessly tainted by proximity to the twentieth century I refer him to St.
Thomas Aquinas. In the Summa Theologiae, St. Thomas Aquinas
defines schism in the following manner: "Schismatics are those who
refuse obedience to the Sovereign Pontiff and who refuse to communicate with
the members of the Church subject to him." (Summa Theologiae, IIa,
IIae 39) This formulation is almost verbatim the definition we find in
the 1983 code which brings things full circle and shows that
on a matter as basic as schism the Church has maintained a remarkable
consistency throughout the centuries. It also shows that Mr. Davies
definition is unique to Mr. Davies. There are no subjectivist escape
clauses in the Church's definition of schism. The Church from earliest
times has maintained adamantly that there is no justification whatsoever for
breaking communion with the Church, "even" as St. Augustine
says "on the admission of evil and sacrilegious men."
All of the definitions
of schism proposed by the Catholic Church share two points in common.
Schism entails either refusal to obey the pope or refusal to remain in
communion with those who remain subject to him. It is important to keep
this essential definition in mind because in discussing the status of the
Society of St. Pius X, Mr. Davies invariably treats schism as if it were
exclusively a legalistic issue. It is not. Behind the term lies the
thing itself, a refusal to obey and communicate which is the ultimate sin
against the unity of the Church, and as St. Augustine says a sin against
charity.
In his definition of
schism, Mr. Davies tries to have it both ways. In this he is just like
Archbishop Lefebvre himself. He claims that the pope has authority, but
he refuses to obey, invoking some higher law. Now while it is true to say
that not every act of disobedience is an act of schism, schism is not avoided
by paying lip service to the authority of the pope and then going on to disobey
him anyway. Some acts of disobedience are so grave that committing them
threatens the unity of the Church. Such acts are acts of schism and while
the subjective state of the person committing them is important in judging culpability,
it in no way changes the magnitude or gravity of the act itself. Nor does
it change the acts ontological status.
Consecrating a bishop
without the permission of the Holy Father is just such a grave attack on the
unity of the Church. According to Canon 1382, "a bishop who
consecrates someone a bishop and the person who receives such a consecration
from a bishop without a pontifical mandate incur an automatic (latae
sententiae) excommunication reserved to the Apostolic See." Aquinas
writes that "the essence of schism lies in rebelliously disobeying the
commandments (of the Church): I say rebelliously because the schismatic shows
obstinate scorn of the Church's commandments and refuses to submit to her
judgment.
According to Davies
explanation, Archbishop Lefebvre was not guilty of schism because he sincerely
believed that it was necessary for the health of the Church. This is a
bit like saying that abortion is not wrong if the doctor who aborts the child
is sincerely convinced that it is necessary for the health of the mother.
What Davies is proposing
here is the theological equivalent of the fundamental option. According
to this theory an action is only a serious sin if the person committing it
wills to destroy his relationship with God. We all know and I think that
Michael Davies would agree that this essentially subjectivist notion is not
compatible with the position of the Church. Some acts are so
intrinsically disordered -- so evil if you will -- that committing them breaks
the person's communion with God regardless of whether that is the person's
explicit intention or not. The gravity of the action is not affected by
the subjective state of the actor only his culpability is. If we
transpose Mr. Davies' theory about schism to the moral realm for a moment it
becomes clear that he is in effect telling us that if the person was acting out
of sincere motivation an abortion would not be the taking of innocent
life. The subjective intentions of Archbishop Lefebvre may gain him some
benefit before the judgment seat of God -- for all we know the man may have
been in his dotage during the negotiations with the Holy See. This is the
impression I got from Cardinal Gagnon -- but it does not change the objective
gravity of what he did here below. It does not change the fact that his
act was schismatic by any reasonable definition of the term.
But is the
Society really in schism? How can we be sure? It seems obvious
that, according to canon law, Archbishop Lefebvre and the four he consecrated
were excommunicated. In an article which appeared in the Angelus
in December 1990, Davies claims that "If such a consecration is an
intrinsically schismatic act it would always have involved the penalty of
excommunication. In the 1917 Code of Canon Law the offense was punished
only by suspension (see Canon 2370 of the 1917 Code). Pope Pius XII had
raised the penalty to excommunication as a response to the establishment of a
schismatic Church in China. The consecration of these illicit Chinese
bishops differed radically from the consecrations carried out by Mgr. Lefebvre
as the professed intention was to repudiate the authority of the Pope, that is,
to deny that he has the right to govern the Church, and the illicitly
consecrated Chinese bishops were given a mandate to exercise an apostolic
mission. Neither Archbishop Lefebvre nor any of the bishops he has
consecrated claim that they have powers of jurisdiction. They have been
consecrated solely for the purpose of ensuring the survival of the Society by
carrying out ordinations and also to perform confirmations. I do not wish
to minimize in any way the gravity of the step taken by Mgr. Lefebvre.
The consecration of bishops without a papal mandate is far more serious matter
than the ordination of priests as it involves a refusal in practice of the
primacy or jurisdiction belonging by divine right to the Roman Pontiff.
But the Archbishop could argue that the crisis afflicting the Church
could not be more grave and that grave measures were needed in
response."
I quote Mr. Davies at
length here for a number of reasons. First of all to point out factual
inaccuracies. The fact is that the Society did consecrate a bishop in
Campos, Brazil with explicit powers of jurisdiction. Secondly, every
bishop by the simple fact that he is a bishop is given the mandate to exercise
an apostolic mission. That is what a bishop does. Thirdly, every
time the Lefebvrite bishops perform a consecration or their priests hear
confession or say mass they violate the code of Canon law and the unity of the
Church by flagrant disregard of the bishops whose jurisdiction they violate.
Mr. Davies himself admits this but invariably justifies it by appealing
to Archbishop Lefebvre's intentions which will forever remain a mystery to us.
What we have here is a
combination of psychological subjectivism -- Lefebvre's act is essentially
different from that of the Chinese bishops because of his intention -- and
legalism. Davies discusses the matter of schism almost exclusively from a
legalistic perspective. That is certainly one way of discussing schism
but it is not the most important issue. Since schism is a sin against
religion and charity the major issue is theological. The legal simply
ratifies what was already in effect theologically. It does not, as in the
case in criminal proceedings create it by its deliberations.
Davies discussion of the
case is also complicated by the fact that the notion of law he falls back on is
not the Church's notion of the law. Davies acts like a clever lawyer for the
defense who can't get his legal strategy straight. Half the time he
argues for the necessity defense and then without proving that conclusively he
tries to win the case on a technicality. After first attempting to show
that what Archbishop Lefebvre did wasn't really schism, because he felt the
situation justified it, Davies goes on to give the impression that Archbishop
Lefebvre hasn't been read the ecclesiastical equivalent of his Miranda rights,
and therefore, not only that he should go free -- a moot point now -- but also
that there was no schism in the first place because his man got sprung on a
technicality. Count Capponi, taking another tack in the matter, argues
that the new code of canon law is so inadequately formulated that no one can be
convicted of anything anymore.
Both men betray a faulty
idea of the role which law plays in the life of the Church. Church law
is, in this regard, completely unlike constitutional law because it is derived
from a completely different idea of authority. In the American
Constitution, the people get together and grant sovereignty to the government
under certain closely specified terms. If those terms are violated, the
law has no hold. If they are violated repeatedly, the people have the
right to replace whoever it is in their opinion who is not enforcing the
constitution.
The authority of Peter,
unlike the authority of President Clinton, comes directly from God. The
pope does not receive power to govern from the populace according to norms
specified in the constitution or code of canon law. He is not bound by
the code: the code is bound by him. He precedes the code both
historically and metaphysically. In the dogmatic constitution Pastor Aeternus
of the First Vatican Council, the Church specified in no uncertain terms that
"primacy of jurisdiction over the universal Church of God was immediately
and directly promised and given to Peter the Apostle by Christ the
Lord." This power is emphatically not "a primacy of
honor merely," the type of sovereignty Davies concedes to the pope
when he gives lip service to the his authority but denies the obedience which
should follow from it. The power of Peter is more than that. It is
not delegated to the pope by the Church or any council, or we might add any code
of canon law. It is "immediate."
"This
power,"
the fathers of Vatican I continue, "obligates shepherds and faithful
of every rite and dignity, both individually and collectively, to hierarchical subordination
and true obedience, not only in matters pertaining to faith and morals, but
also in those pertaining to the discipline and government of the Church
throughout the world; so that by maintaining with the Roman Pontiff unity of
communion and unity in the profession of the same faith, the Church of Christ
may be one flock under one supreme shepherd. This is the teaching of
Catholic truth. No one can deviate from it without danger to faith and
salvation."
From this, it
follows that "a decision of the Apostolic See, whose authority has no
superior, may be revised by no one, nor may anyone examine judicially its
decision." This decree of Vatican I has been embedded in Canon
333 of the 1983 code which states, that "there is neither appeal nor
recourse against a decision or decree of the Roman pontiff." (para.
#3).
Nowhere in this
discussion is there any notion that the pope is somehow subjected to the
authority of the code of canon law, much less as Count Capponi indicates,
handcuffed by its inadequacies. In this sense Archbishop Lefebvre won't
be sprung on a technicality because Church law simply doesn't function that
way. President Clinton is not above the law of the land but the pope is
very emphatically above the law of the Church and he most certainly cannot be
bound by any alleged inadequacies in the code. If someone is acquitted of
a crime, that crime did, in effect, not exist, at least with regard to that
person. That is, of course, a legal fiction but it is a legal fiction which
safeguards citizens against arbitrary use of power on the part of their
government.
There is no court of
appeal higher than the pope. His decision is not undone by an
interpretation which disputes his decision based on necessity or the parlous
(fraught with danger or risk; hazardous) state of the Church or anything else.
Mr. Davies proposes all sorts of principles but none of them are found in
the teaching of the Church in regard to schism. In schism as in abortion there
are no exceptions. One is never allowed to break the unity of the Church
any more than one is allowed to taken the life of the unborn. In the case
of Church law as specified in Pastor Aeternus, Archbishop Lefebvre is
in schism if the pope says he is and that mirabile dictu is precisely
what the Pope said.
I don't want to belabor
the obvious but I suppose under these circumstances I will have to. On
July 2 1988 Pope John Paul II stated solemnly that Lefebvre's act of
consecration was an act "of disobedience to the Roman Pontiff in a
very grave matter and of supreme importance for the unity of the Church such as
is the ordination of bishops whereby the apostolic succession is sacramentally
perpetuated. Hence such disobedience -- which implies in practice the
rejection of the Roman primacy -- constitutes a schismatic
act." (his emphasis)
The pope here cites
canon 751 which we have already cited, as the Church's definition of schism.
"In performing
such an act," the Pope continues, "notwithstanding the formal
canonical warning sent to them by the Cardinal Prefect of the Congregation for
Bishops on June 17 last, Mons. Lefebvre and the priests Bernard Fellay, Bernard
Tissier de Mallerais, Richard N. Williamson and Alfonso de Gallareta, have
incurred the grave penalty of excommunication envisaged by ecclesiastical
law."
The pope here cites
canon 1382 which we have already cited.
Every statement here is
completely consonant with the code of canon law, but even if it weren't, it
would still be a valid statement and Archbishop Lefebvre and company would
still be excommunicated and the Society would still be in schism.
Schism is not just
something that is established by legal fiat. It doesn't come into being
because the jury pronounces a certain verdict, as lets say, manslaughter in a
criminal trial. Schism precedes the edict which solemnly defines it.
The Society of St. Pius X had been behaving in a schismatic manner for
years before the consecrations. The fact that they hadn't been solemnly
separated from the Church sooner is more a function of the Church's patience
than the Society's attitude toward the Church. The consecration of
bishops was the line beyond which the Church would not permit the discussion to
go. Lefebvre defied the pope on the grave matter and the schism was
denounced formally according to the procedures established by the Church.
But let's remember
schism is not just refusal to obey the pope. It is also refusal to
maintain "communion with the members of the Church subject to
him." In this respect schism is not something that happened on
the last day of June in 1988. Schism is something which grew and grew
over years and gradually suffused the entire Society as it became more and more
estranged from Rome and more and more convinced that it alone was the "visible
Catholic Church" as Archbishop Lefebvre himself said shortly before
his death.
Schism gradually began
to suffuse the writings of Michael Davies as well. I'm not talking about
his ecclesial plea bargaining here. I'm talking about the underlying
attitude that made the plea bargaining necessary in the first place. Mr.
Davies felt compelled to get Archbishop Lefebvre off on a lesser charge,
disobedience not schism, as if the final verdict had some sort of ontological
(relating to or based upon being or existence) hegemony (preponderant authority
or influence especially of one nation over others) over the act itself.
It did not. The schism was there long before the pope pronounced on
it. It was there long afterwards as well and it is readily apparent in
the writings of Mr. Davies himself. In his article "Who is
Schismatic?" he wonders:
"One also feels
bound to ask how much confidence one can place in the resolution of a Pope who
maintains communion with Archbishop Weakland and who surrendered so abjectly to
the pro-Hunthausen lobby in the American hierarchy."
Since we are
here face to face tonight we get to ask the question directly: Is the pope
tainted by communion with Archbishop Hunthausen?
This is a very old
question really. St. Augustine put it to the Donatists, the schismatics
of his age, and he never got an answer. What Mr. Davies implies here is
clear. The Pope is tainted by communion with Archbishop Weakland, and we
by extension are tainted if we maintain communion as well. Therefore,
according to Davies, we must break the unity of the Church in order to maintain
doctrinal and moral purity. When all the legal plea bargaining and
amateur psychologizing is stripped away, this is what remains, and this
attitude expressed by Mr. Davies is the quintessence of schism.
Mr. Davies is a
schismatic. And the society is schismatic as well. And all those
who support the Society are in schism and therefore excommunicated from the
Catholic Church. Anathemas is how the people at Vatican I would have
phrased it. "Monsignor Marcel Lefebvre," wrote Bernard
Cardinal Gantin, Prefect of the Congregation for Bishops, "notwithstanding
the formal canonical warning of 17 June 1988 and the repeated appeals to desist
from his intention has performed a schismatic act by the episcopal consecration
of four priests, without pontifical mandate and contrary to the will of the
Supreme pontiff, and has therefore incurred the penalty envisaged by . . . the
Code of Canon Law."
But that is not all that
Rome has to tell us on the matter. "The priests and faithful,"
Cardinal Gantin continues, "are warned not to support the schism of
Monsignor Lefebvre, otherwise they will incur ipso facto the very grave
penalty of excommunication."
This is the Church
speaking now. She is saying nothing more than what she has said for her
entire history. Breaking the unity of the Church is never justified.
It is to religion what abortion is to the moral law. Anyone who
appeals to private judgment to justify such an act is not only wrong; he is
also a liberal. As Cardinal Ratzinger wrote to Archbishop Lefebvre on 28
July 1987, "by producing your own interpretation of the texts of the
Magisterium, you would paradoxically display the very liberalism which you have
combated so strongly and you would be acting against the aim you are
seeking." When it comes to Mr. Davies and Archbishop Lefebvre,
the disciple is not superior to his teacher, nor the slave to his master.
The philosophy at the heart of the Society of St. Pius X is not "traditionalism;"
it is pick-and-choose liberalism.
That was Cardinal
Ratzinger six years ago (1987). Sixteen hundred years ago, St. Augustine
had virtually the same thing to say, when he claimed that "it is a
manifest rule that one ought in no wise by the establishment of a separate
communion to secede from the Catholic communion, that is from the body of
Christians throughout the world, even on the admission of evil and sacrilegious
men...."
Needless to say, there
was a state of emergency, in Mr. Davies sense of term in existence back then as
well. But no state of emergency and no amount of evil and sacrilegious
men in the Church ever justifies defying the pope on a matter this grave or
breaking the bond of unity with those who maintain communion with him.
"If the communion of wicked men destroyed the Church in the time of
Cyprian," St. Augustine write to the Donatists, "they have
no source from which they can derive their own communion; and if the Church was
not destroyed, they have no excuse for their separation from it."
The Church is not destroyed, nor are her sacraments adversely affected by
communion with wicked men. If they were, she would have ceased to exist
long before Archbishop Lefebvre had ever been born.
Experience, Ben Franklin
once said, keeps an expensive school. But fools will learn in no other.
A group of people better schooled in tradition than the so-called
traditionalists are would have known that separation from the Church is never
justified. It looks as if the Society of St. Pius X will have to learn
this lesson the hard way. As they descend into the fever swamps of
neo-Nazism and cult-like behavior, they will have to learn the hard way that
the Catholic Church under Peter's successor is the only barque of Christ, and
that no matter what waves of heresy buffet its sides, one is never justified in
jumping ship; not even during the fiercest storms. Those who do jump
overboard during the storm learn the hard way that it was the Church, no matter
how beleaguered, that was sustaining them all along. They also learn that
the only alternative to an uncomfortable position on her tossing decks is to
sink beneath the waves and drown. ![]()
Index of SSPX articles
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