We continue with our Monday and Saturday retrospective looks at Vatican II, which was in session exactly fifty years ago. The previous episodes can be found by tracing this blog page backward if you are just joining. We have also had some difficulty with the site itself which accounts for the day's delay.
To compare the October/November 1963 discussions of Sessions Two as the Gettysburg of the Council may be an exaggeration, but only a slight one. The schema or working paper on the Church was fiercely debated, as the nature and authority of the Church itself were being discussed with an openness that one would have to look back five centuries to see replicated. The event in question was the Ecumenical Council of Constance (1414-1418), whose main agenda was the multiple claim of three men to be valid popes at the same time. Under great pressure by the Holy Roman Emperor Sigismund, this Council produced two teaching documents: (1) Sacrosancta, which proclaimed that the Council of Constance received its direct teaching authority from Christ, and that Councils were the supreme authority of the Church; and (2) Frequens, which directed that world synods of bishops should meet every three years to discuss reform and eradication of errors and abuses.
Human nature what it is, when the Council banished the three pretenders, the legitimate Bishop of Rome appointed by this Council, Martin V, made a bee line to the strengthening of the papacy versus the world’s bishops, an ongoing tension known among theologians then and today as Conciliarism. After the Council of Constance very few councils were called by successive popes, who saw the specter of collegial (episcopal) power as a threat to the Vicar of Christ and the successor of Peter. I have read history books which argue that the provisions of Frequens and its reforming intent would have prevented the wholesale explosion of the Reformation, but we will never know. It is safe to say that within the Church the role of the papacy continued a steady evolution in legal and spiritual autonomy, highlighted by the declaration of the doctrine of papal Infallibility in 1870. However, the exact reverse was taking place outside of the Church as the pope’s influence in matters of the world continued to wane. This is why the encyclicals of Pope John XXIII, notably Pacem in Terris, addressed to all people of good will, were striking for their times.
When Pope Francis celebrated Mass with the bishops of the United States this week, I did not hear any commentary on the nature of the Canonical legal powers held by the pope vis-à-vis the bishops, nor on their collective authority as U.S. bishops. But this was exactly the debate of Session Two, as many bishops and theologians raised the question of whether the papacy (and by association, the Curia) exercised too much authority in relation to the baptized laity, to be sure, but even more to the point, in relation to fellow consecrated bishops understood in Church Tradition as the “Successors of the Apostles.”
Xavier Rynne describes the October debate on “collegiality” (that is, common governance), as long and tedious, but the stakes were so high that time was extended for every position to be heard. The first question under discussion was whether indeed there was such a thing as a college or corporal body of bishops with legal standing in the Church. This in turn led to a sacramental question: does consecration of a bishop give him a new empowerment, or was appoint of a priest to a vacant see simply a juridical extension of Holy Orders? Pius XII, in line with the majority of Church scholars, had reiterated the first position. This being so, when does a bishop become part of the exercising college of apostolic teachers? I need to point out here that as late as the 1960’s bishops were often named for outstanding service to the Curia, men without specific sees, or “ministers without portfolios.” To tell you the truth, such men were the butt of jokes in seminaries, as my professors often referred to them as “spaghetti bishops.” After the Council the practice was generally halted.
The old Curia hand Cardinal Ruffini stood up and declared that “I still have not been convinced that Christ constituted the apostles as a college,” implying that in terms of governance Christ had focused his teaching and authoritative legacy only with Peter. The majority of fathers did not concur, and there was general (though not total) acceptance that some sort of corporal teaching and governing reality resided in the body of bishops as a whole. Cardinal Siri, another Curialist, pointed out that yes, there was a true sense of collectivity of bishops, and that history—namely all of the previous ecumenical councils—bore witness to that. But he stated that in no way could the bishops as a whole take a position opposite the Holy Father, given the infallibility teaching of 1870.
The American Cardinal Meyer of Chicago, whose background in Scripture study enhanced his respect on the floor, made a brilliant defense of Christ’s intent to trust the Church to the body of the Twelve, and thus rooting the corporate concept in New Testament practice. His argument was addressed by Bishop Martin of Barbastro, Spain, who contended that “if collegiality were of divine law…the pope would be obliged to set up a permanent council of bishops, which is certainly not true.” It escaped Martin and others that a permanent body did in fact already exist, the Curia, and it could claim no roots in New Testament practice.
No votes were yet taken, and under this particular section of the schema was included discussion on a married diaconate. It is worth noting that Cardinal Spellman of New York made his “maiden speech” of the Council on the subject. As it turned out, the Cardinal’s theology and his politics were both faulty—bishops in Latin America in particular were much in favor of the restored diaconate—and when told this by a reporter, Spellman snapped, “Let them say so.” Another topic under this umbrella was the generic role of “the people of God,” the laity, a debate that fell along predictable lines: modern theologians elaborating new and deeper understandings of baptism and its empowerment of lay Catholics in the mission of the Church versus a concern for any hint of diminishment of the ordained priest. In this debate Bishop Wright of Pittsburgh delivered an inspired support for strong recognition of the vocation of the laity. A subset of this debate involved the interplay of the Church, laity, and secular government or Church-state concerns as well as the Catholic layman’s role in combatting racism, in which Bishop Tracy of Baton Rouge, Louisiana, delivered a remarkable intervention connecting discrimination within the Church with racial divides in his home diocese.
Rynne observes at this juncture that the Council was coming to “the first stage of its crisis” when, on October 15th, it was announced that five straw ballots (pre-ballots) would be taken among the Council fathers on the issues discussed above. It was not so much the numerical results as the various reactions and counter plays that would leave the fathers and the world at large wondering if the Council could be saved.
September 27th, 2015Read Now
September 27th, 2015Read Now
On Mondays and Saturdays for the next several weeks we will look at the workings of Vatican II.
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It is often forgotten that just as the Vatican II Council Fathers were getting down to business, United States reconnaissance pilots were shooting pictures of Russian nuclear missiles in Cuba. Just how the Cuban Missile Crisis impacted the emotions of the Council is hard to say, but certainly the tensions reminded the fathers of the seriousness of their own efforts. The agenda of the Council was determined by the Curia through its dominance of the planning subcommittees and its management of the proceedings. There were a number of Curial officials and participating bishops who believed that the Council might be concluded in one fall session.
In any event the first working day of the Council was October 13, 1961, called to order under the president, the Curia’s Cardinal Tisserant. Several procedural points to make include these: (1) the official language of the Council was Latin, including the floor speeches; (2) there was no simultaneous translation available, as in the United Nations (Cardinal Cushing offered to pay for one, but his proposal was not accepted by the officers; (3) while there were many exceptions to this rule, in general the bishops handled one topic at a time; if there was full agreement on the text of the schema or proposal, the bishops then voted immediately. If there were many reservations about the text, as was often the case, the presidential board could pull the document back for a rewriting and resubmit it with another full debate on the floor. In the case of the Schema on Religious Liberty in late 1964, Pope Paul himself ordered that the schema be retracted until the following year. (4) As a rule the Curia proposed the order of presentation of subjects. (5) The bishops used paper ballots to mark “placet” (it is pleasing); “non placet” (a negative vote) or “placet juxta modem” (a qualified yes with request for more clarification or discussion.) Xavier Rynne observes with some humor that the stage manager, Archbishop Pericle Felici, would go to great pains with detailed instructions on how to mark a ballot “non-placet.”
The first issue of debate, one of the four major schema of the Council, was destined to become “The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy.” Why this very controversial topic was tackled first is a bit of a mystery to me: I suspect that Curia and bishops alike were afraid to go home at Christmas without having resolved the issue one way or the other. Another possibility is that in much of Europe, and even in the United States to some degree, liturgical reform was well underway. I can recall “dialogue Masses” in my home parish well before 1962. Another point, often forgotten, was that Pius XII (1939-1958) was himself a pioneer of liturgical reform whose writings and especially his permissions led Catholics to think in terms of reforming the Mass. Pius restored the Holy Week/Triduum services to the night hour, and gave permission for evening Masses on Holy Days. (The weekly Saturday vigil Mass would come after Vatican II.)
As in most things, major arguments come down to several critical points. Recall that John XXIII had expressly called for a Church more accessible to the world as a whole. In this debate on the Liturgy, many bishops argued that the style and rubrics of the Mass was best left to national and regional conferences of bishops, given that they were the ones “on the scene,” with the work of these bodies passed to the pope for final approval. The Curial document on the table called for the bishops to provide general principles which would be specified after the Council by the Curia.
Not surprisingly, the argument turned to jurisdiction. As Rynne observes, this question was bound to come up sooner or later anyway—and indeed it actually intensified all the way through Session Four in 1965. With regard to this debate, the focus turned to Mass in the vernacular, which the schema had commented upon favorably. Here the argument turned on a venerable history versus greater participation by the Laity. This debate ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous: Cardinal Spellman of New York called for retention of Latin Mass for the sake of unity, but vernacular for all the other sacraments, an interesting effort at compromise. On the other hand, Archbishop Dante of the Curia tore the schema to shreds, including a non sequitur regarding veneration of relics. Bishop Garcia Martinez rose and asked Dante, “How much longer was the Church to be embarrassed by such ‘relics’ as Our Blessed Lady’s milk and veil?”
One of the most captivating speeches came from Cardinal Felton of Paris, whom Rynne credits as taking a practical approach to the present-day style of the Tridentine Mass then in use. He asked what would happen if a non-Catholic should wander into Mass—what would his impression be? Felton’s description of a priest facing away from a passive congregation celebrating a rite in a foreign tongue—a magic rite, in the Cardinal’s words. He reminded the assembly that the Mass was the Word of God in action, divided into a catechetical and a redemptive action. The Mass, he observed, should have this effect upon members and strangers alike.
Over the next ten days the matter of Latin became “a sort of shibboleth,” as Rynne puts it. The retention of Latin became a symbol of those who wished to maintain the Church within the confines of a western-juridical ordered tradition. On the whole, American bishops made few interventions; many were, quite frankly, bored, unfamiliar with theological writing and pastoral practices in other parts of the world. However, through the fall of 1962 more bishops began to look to Cardinals Ritter (St. Louis) and Meyer (Chicago) for advice and leadership in the proceedings and gradually warmed (“gradually” being the operative word) to more of the liturgical reforms put forth.
Among other major topics under the liturgical umbrella were concelebrating the Mass by multiple priests and communion under both species. As more bishops seemed to be tending to the majority of reforms, Cardinal Ottaviani on October 30 took the floor and asked the bishops, “Are you planning a revolution?” His ten minutes allotted, the president finally cut his microphone. Finally the debate was brought to an end by a direct intervention of Pope John on November 6. Because of the great complexity of the debate, the majority of the schema went back to committee and was not presented again until the following year.
And by this time, with just one schema having consumed nearly two months, there was no doubt there would be a second session of Vatican II in 1963.