Showing posts with label Thomas More. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thomas More. Show all posts

Saturday, November 9, 2013

Why Are They Afraid of Pope Francis? 6


Pope John XXIII
Let’s go back to why Pope Francis is causing such panic among the neo-trad Catholics and in particular why his interview for La Civilta Cattolica, reprinted in the Jesuit weekly, America, has the katholic krazies so worried. In the interview Francis spoke of the importance of discernment—and for those steeped in Ignatian (Jesuit) spirituality, discernment is the paramount attribute in living the Christian life.  One must come to discern the Will of God.  Note—one must discern. That means there isn’t a ready-made answer coming down from heaven through hierarchal authority.  This isn’t like the old days when you didn’t have to discern, you just had to obey.  Moreover, as if the need to discern wasn’t enough, the Pope quoted the maxim: non coerceri a maximo, sed contineri a minimo divinum est.  America quotes the translation as: not to be limited by the greatest but to be contained in the least—that is divine.  And that translation is just fine, but it wouldn’t pass the test of Liturgiam authenicam—remember that wonderful “instruction” by the Holy See that advocates the “most faithful” (ie literal) translation of texts?  Let’s try this: Not to be coerced by the greatest but to be limited by the least is divine.  Now, all due respect to Liturgiam authenticam, and it preference for the literal, but literal translation is most often not faithful to the translation because it doesn’t take the context of the text into consideration, nor does it pick up on either connotations or implied words or phrases.  Also, the Latin syntax sucks when it is carried over into English—just ask any priest who is struggling with the revised Missal.   So let’s go one step further and let me suggest this translation, placing the maxim both in good English and the context of what Ignatius meant by discernment: It is not God’s Will that we should be coerced by the highest powers but rather that we be made subject to the least important.  Of course Francis expands the meaning of this maxim to say that we should be happy to serve in whatever position—great or small—in which we find ourselves. He expands this to say the grace of magnanimity allows us to devote ourselves to the most humble tasks without resentment but with hearts open to God and to neighbor.  I like this, but for a person whose world-view is hierarchal, this is a more than a bit threatening.  Should we not be constrained by those in power?  Why did God institute hierarchy if it is not to govern us?  It is all well and good to talk about the need for the greatest to become the servant of all, the first to become the last—but hey, as a Church we need the Pope to be Pope and bishops to be bishops and the rest of us to pay, pray, and obey.  We don’t need to discern God’s Will—we need a Pope who will tell us God’s Will and hold our feet to the fire.   You let people discern and the next thing you know nuns aren’t wearing habits, married couples are using the pill, gays are marching down the aisle, and Father is making up the Mass as he goes along. 
And then, if that weren’t bad enough, Pope Francis quotes Good Pope John—who, to the neo-trads—was anything but good.  “You should see everything, turn a blind eye to much, correct a little” said the about-to-be-sainted Pope and echoed by his current successor.  “Whoa Nellie,” the neo-trads cry—“we need a Pope who corrects everything.  Why we got politicians who vote for Gay Marriage and liberal abortion laws marching up the communion aisle with the audacity of a Virgin Martyr; we got lesbian nuns practicing Wicca, we got priests in clown-suits saying Mass, we got Catholics voting for Obama (“the most anti-Catholic President in American History,”) we got churches being turned into discos—this “correct a little” ain’t working.  We need the Inquisition, not “I’m OK; You’re OK.” Yeah, this Francis thing ain’t working for those who want to bring back the old order, but for those of us who accept the basic premise that God’s Grace is given to all in the mystical body—you know, that Vatican II thing about a “universal call to holiness”—this discernment thing is an idea whose time has come.  It worked for Ignatius.  In fact, it worked for the great saints throughout history, men and women who chose (with God’s grace) a path of holiness: Thomas More, Bernard of Clairvaux, Thérèse of Lisieux, Francis of Assisi, Benedict, Damien of Molokai, Edith Stein, and perhaps—best of all—the Blessed Virgin Mary.  They all listened attentively to the Holy Spirit speak within their souls and charted a course that was in one way or another outside the lines of those who had gone before them. In fact, I suspect that if one looked carefully at the lives of the Saints, we would see that an adult, mature, and free response to the Holy Spirit was the more common path than blind unthinking submission to authority.  Go Francis.  

Thursday, October 3, 2013

Foundations of the Anglican Church, XLVI

Henry VIII at the time of the Separation
of the Church of England from the Roman
Communion
Sorry for the unscheduled hiatus.  I was travelling in the remote wilds of some place or other without an internet connection.  It happens.  And then when I finally returned home there was a death in my immediate circle and I have  been tied up with funeral details.  And—as if that wasn’t enough—my on-line course had also been interrupted and I needed to get back to my students and make sure everyone is on track.   Actually, I am still in the middle of that task.    And all this happened right when we are at the crucial point of Henry separating the English Church from Rome.   As we have seen throughout this series, the English Church had a distinct identity from its very origins in the first century during the time of the Roman colonization of Britain.  It was distinct in liturgy and discipline and was a Church in communion with the Roman Church but not “under it.”  During the period of the Christian Anglo-Saxon kings the ties between Rome and the English Church were strengthened by Augustine’s Mission to Britain and by the devotion of the Anglo-Saxon Christians to the Apostle Peter and to his shrine at Rome, but it was only after the conquest and through the efforts of Archbishops such as Saints Anselm and Thomas a Becket that the English Church was brought more into line with continental Catholicism and gradually found itself “under” papal authority rather than in communion with it.  This paralleled the evolution of authority in the wider Church as the communion of local Churches gradually gave way after the fifth century to the pentarchy model of local Churches being subjected to the benevolent overlordship of the five great patriarchates (Rome, Constantinople, Antioch, Alexandria and Jerusalem).   Rome, like Constantinople, gradually drew in the net to encapsulate its subject Churches and while Charlemagne pretty much delivered most of Western Europe into papal control by the beginning of the ninth century, England was the last big fish to be trapped by the beginning of the twelfth.  (Ireland came slightly later and that is a story in itself but for another time.)  So now let’s look at how Henry undid in about six years this process that took eleven centuries.
Henry began after the fall of Wolsey, with some royally mandated reforms that had nothing to do with separation from Rome and were continuations of minor reforms begun by Wolsey. Henry had legislation introduced into Parliament in 1529 to reduce the fees the Church charged for funerals and for probating wills.  (Probate belonged to the Church courts, not the Royal Court.)  Parliament also reduced the right of sanctuary whereby those accused of certain crimes—including capital crimes—could place themselves under the protection of the Church and avoid punishment.   Finally certain financial abuses were cleared up.  No prelate could hold more than four salaried posts and lands leased by the Church were subject to royal taxation.  Wolsey had had the authority for reform because he was a papal legate—the Pope had given him certain powers in England over the Church.  Henry had no such power and he acted not on papal authority but on the authority of Parliament.  It is a significant difference.  Henry was asserting the right of Parliament—or rather of the “Crown in Parliament” over the Church.  These reforms were all reasonable reforms—indeed they really didn’t go far enough.  Many clergy were not happy however, especially those who held multiple benefices.  It was not uncommon for churchmen to hold several different jobs, collecting the salaries and then paying a lesser priest to perform the duties.  This was called pluralism and it was very common in the Church at the time.  It would not be unusual for a man to hold two or more dioceses, an abbacy or two (or three or four), a cathedral deanery, several canonries at various cathedrals, and maybe a few parishes—collecting all the revenue and paying others to do the work.  No one wanted to lose their salaries.  Henry’s reforms were reasonable reforms and good for the Church.  The issue was not the reforms—but the authority on which the reforms were basked. 
In 1531 Henry took the next step and had Parliament pass an act naming him Head of the Church in England.  This was phrased very carefully so as not to rule out the Pope’s authority but simply to assert the King’s right to regulate the Church in his realm, but he wanted to the people to get used to the idea that the King was Head of the Church.  It was certainly a warning to Clement that the annulment had better be forthcoming.  It was a sufficiently ambiguous act however as not to cause either Thomas More—the Lord Chancellor—nor Bishop John Fisher of Rochester, a defender of Papal authority—enough qualms to have them object    
In March 1532 Henry had a bill introduced into the Commons that limited the payment of Church fees to Rome.  Traditionally every churchman sent his first year’s salary to Rome in gratitude for Rome’s confirming his appointment.  (Remember, bishops were usually elected by their cathedral chapters and abbots by their monasteries, not appointed by the Pope.  Lesser prelates were appointed in a variety of ways—some by election, some by appointment by the bishop, some appointed by the Crown, some nominated by lay benefactors and confirmed by the local bishop.  But all major appointments went to Rome for confirmation—and were accompanied by handsome gifts.)  This act drastically reduced the amount of money that could go to Rome.  Again, it was a warning to the Pope to move on the annulment.  And Henry was very serious about this—he made the extraordinary move of marching into the House of Commons personally (since the 17th century the monarch is barred from the Commons but at the time—well, who was going to stop Henry?) and demanding that the house “divide” with those in favor of the bill going to one side and those opposed to the other.  Henry could see who his friends were.  You didn’t want to be one of those whom he noticed on the other side. 
Three months later in 1532 Henry presented a document to the clergy demanding their signature.  It is referred to as The Submission of the Clergy.  It required three things
1.     That Convocation (the assembly of the clergy) would make no new laws without royal consent
2.     That the existing canons would be subject to revision by a royal commission
3.     That Convocation would not meet without the King’s consent.

This is the law that ended the independence of the Church.  Thomas More realized that the Rubicon had been crossed and resigned as Lord Chancellor pleading ill health.  He knew that there would be no turning back now though not everyone else saw it that way.    
In April 1533 Parliament passed a law forbidding appeals to any foreign tribunal—including the Pope.  All matters were now to be settled in England.  Henry was at this time already married (albeit secretly) to Anne Boleyn who was pregnant.    Henry had to get this matter of an annulment resolved and resolved quickly.  That wasn’t going to happen in Rome and this bill reserved jurisdiction to an English tribunal.  About five weeks later Henry’s Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer, declared the marriage of Henry and Katherine to be null, freeing the way for the marriage to Anne to be recognized. 
In December 1533 Parliament passed a decree declaring that the Pope had no more jurisdiction in England than any other foreign bishop.  While some historians date the actual break with Rome a year or two later, from this point the English Church can be considered in schism though Parliament would still pass several more acts on the matter.
In 1534 Parliament declared that the King was supreme head of the Church in England.  All revenues formerly paid to the Pope would now go to the King.  Moreover, the King would confirm the election of bishops and abbots as the Pope previously had.  A second act passed at the same time prohibited papal dispensations from being issued in England.  The Peter’s Pence was discontinued.  And the King was given the right to visit and reform religious houses.  Yet another act that spring granted the King a tax of 10% of all clergy incomes.  In the summer of 1534 it was mandated that the Pope’s name should be eliminated from the Mass and from all public prayers.  Some historians date the break from this elimination of the Pope’s names from the public prayers—and from a theological sense this would be the breaking point, though I would argue it for the bill denying papal authority. 
November 1534 saw the Act of Supremacy. Yet other historians say that it is only with this act that the Church of England is separated from Rome.  The Act declared that Henry was "the only supreme head on earth of the Church in England" and that the Crown of England shall enjoy "all honors, dignities, preeminence, jurisdictions, privileges, authorities, immunities, profits, and commodities to the said dignity." Furthermore the King had the right to “visit, redress, reform, correct or amend all errors, heresies and enormities” that would have previously been dealt with by papal authority.  The King had the right to appoint to all ecclesiastical offices.  The Bill made it very clear that Parliament was recognizing this headship, not conferring it.  It belonged to the King by Divine Right, not by Parliamentary consent. 
At the same time Parliament passed the Treason Act declaring that anyone who denied the King any of his titles was guilty of treason.  It was under this act and for denying the King’s headship of the Church that Saints John Fisher and Thomas More were executed in the summer of 1535.
There was one more Act of Parliament.  In 1536 Parliament passed an Act in Restraint of Papal authority declaring that the Pope had no right in England to interpret disputed passages of scripture or otherwise exercise spiritual authority.  It also made it clear to the religious orders that they must not acknowledge any authority outside the King’s, thus snapping their ties with their continental brothers and sisters.  Thus we see that the break with Rome was not a sudden thing but done rather subtly and step-by-step.   Meanwhile, the Mass remained as it had always been—minus the mention of the Pope’s name in the Synaxis—but still in Latin with the full ritual.  Vestments and incense and holy water and fast days and all else were unchanged.  The clergy were still forbidden to marry.  The cults of the Virgin and the Saints remained.  England was as Catholic as ever, save for the Pope.