Archbishop Rowan’s Question

With news of the Catholic Church’s gesture towards the Traditional Anglican Communion, some have wondered aloud about the future of the Anglican community of believers.

Considering the ongoing tension within the Anglican/Episcopalian communities of believers, it might surprise  opponents of abortion (and assisted suicide for that matter) to know that they have a friend in Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury and head of the Anglican Communion.

He is a fairly frequent commentator on the subjects, but I wanted to give attention to a particular question he asks in a piece that appeared in the Observer several years ago. In “Britain’s Abortion Debate Lacks A Moral Dimension,” Archbishop Williams grants a presumption of goodwill towards those who originally voted in favour of the 1967 Abortion Act, and suggests that many did so clearly believing that they were making provisions only for extreme and tragic situations (conception as a result of rape, fetal or prenatal complications threatening the mother’s life…). Perhpas this was said with Lord David Steel in mind, whose private members Bill in 1967 paved the way for greater access to abortion. Steel had told newspapers recently that there are simply too many abortions and has complained that abortion is now being used as a form of long term contraception.

However, despite that original good will on the part of the Abortion Act’s architects and defenders, the Archbishop notes “rapidly spiraling statistics—nearly 200, 000 abortions a year in England and Wales—tell their own story,” and one with significantly less good will. 

He notes the irony in the popular and continually strengthened “language of foetal rights” wherein a pregnant woman who smokes or drinks heavily is regarded as infringing on the rights of her unborn child, and yet at the same time, “with no apparent sense of incongruity” there is a governmental push to allow for women to administer upon themselves abortion inducing drugs.

What has happened to society? the Archbishop asks. He suggests that clear, absolute principles (for example, one that he holds, ”that abortion is nothing other than the deliberate termination of a human life”), don’t necessarily let one off the hook when faced with a hugely complex world. Tough decisions cannot be escaped (What do we do with the pregnant woman who life is endangered as a result of her pregnancy, or the victim of rape who has been impregnated?), but he asks, and this is a very important question

when do we get to the point where accepting the inevitability of tough decisions that may hurt the conscience has become so routine that we stop noticing that there ever was a strain on conscience, let alone why that strain should be there at all?

Archbishop Williams notes that just as eroding marriage to allow for divorce in certain seemingly justifiable circumstances has led to no-fault divorce, so also, eroding our view of life to the point that abortion in permitted in seemingly justifiable circumstances, has allowed now for near unlimited access, and it is this slipperiness, this erosion of values, that is to explain today’s discussions about the availability of over-the-counter abortion pills, which only bring humanity lower.

Kelly Wilson

On the Infallibility of Ordinatio Sacerdotalis

 Pope John Paul II’s apostolic letter Ordinatio Sacerdotalis (30 May 1994) declared that the Church had no authority to confer priestly ordination on women, and that such a judgment was to be held definitively by the faithful. A year later the CDF issued a statement declaring that the doctrine excluding the ordination of women to the priesthood pertained to the deposit of faith, and that such a teaching had been infallibly taught by the ordinary and universal magisterium.

Leaving aside the first claim of the CDF (that the particular teaching has been revealed by God), I offer some reflections from Francis Sullivan regarding whether the teaching has been infallibly taught by the ordinary and universal magisterium.

Canon 749 of the Code of Canon Law teaches that no doctrine is to be understood as infallible unless the fact of infallibility is clearly established. How might this be established?

1. Is the world-wide Catholic episcopate in agreement with the Pope that the exclusion of women from ordination to the priesthood is a divinely revealed doctrine that must be held definitively by the faithful? Has such agreement been established? One certain thing is that the statement of the CDF is not infallible, because, even with papal approval, the Pope cannot communicate his prerogative of infallibility through a statement of a Congregation.

An infallible teaching can be clarified, or better articulated, but it cannot be reversed. There are countless examples of propositions which once seemed to be the unanimous teaching of the whole episcopate, but now, because of development, do not remain as teachings of the Church. Appeal to the long-standing tradition of the past does not suffice as proof that a doctrine has been taught infallibly by the ordinary and universal magisterium. What has to be clearly established is that the tradition remained constant, and that even today the universal body of Catholic bishops are teaching the same doctrine as definitively held. John Paul shows respect for this process, when in Evangelium Vitae, he condemns abortion, and claims to speak (first from his own authority), but also

in communion with the bishops—who on various occasions have condemned abortion and who in the aforementioned consultation, albeit dispersed throughout the world, have shown unanimous agreement concerning this doctrine (EV, 62).

 2. Something also must be said for the consensus of Catholic theologians. According to Pope Pius IX, the response of faith is to be given to “those things which are handed on by the ordinary magisterium of the whole church, dispersed throughout the world as divinely revealed, and therefore are held by the universal and constant consensus of Catholic theologians to pertain to the faith.”

 3. Finally, according to Canon 750, when a doctrine is proposed as divinely revealed by the ordinary and universal magisterium, this is “manifested by the common adherence of Christ’s faithful.”

 Official documents here promote these three ways of establishing that a doctrine is taught infallibly by the ordinary and universal magisterium, and the CDF has invoked none of these to its defense. To Sullivan

 the question that remains in my mind is whether it is a clearly established fact that the bishops of the Catholic Church are as convinced as John Paul II evidently is, and that, in exercising their proper role as judges and teachers of the faith, they have been unanimous in teaching that the exclusion of women from ordination to the priesthood is a divinely revealed truth to which all Catholics are obliged to give a definitive assent of faith. Until this is manifestly the case, I do not see how it can be certain that this doctrine has been taught infallibly by the ordinary and universal magisterium.

Read carefully excitable readers: None of this is to say that the teaching isn’t infallible. What it is to say is that expert ecclesiologists (like Sullivan) with very comfortable relations with the Church (he taught at the Gregorian for thirty years) were not satisfied with how this document was argued to be infallible. People like Sullivan are fulfilling their mandate outlined in the Instruction by weighing and interpreting the various Vatican documents. Coming to a conclusion, as Gaillardetz has also done, that a particular document is not infallible does not translate into a rejection of the teaching found therein, and I certainly think that we (not the experts that others are) should perhaps be more cautious in attaching descriptions like heretic or dissenter to individuals whose  life study is the evaluation of these documents.

Kelly Wilson

The Hell I am

My entry into the discussion regarding Dr. Gaillardetz has aroused the suspicion of some bloggers. For example, at John Pacheco’s SoCon or Bust, TH2 (who blogs over Heresy-Hunter) writes this about yours truly:

 

 She is playing the ‘middle ground’ role, comes across as courteous, respectful and even cheerful – and, by her words, she is quite intelligent.

 

 Is TH2 saying that I have claimed intelligence for myself? In case TH2 is, Kakistokrat, when spelled correctly, can mean something along the lines of ’unqualified,’ and by using it here, I am intentionally being self-depreciating. Despite TH2’s kind description, s/he is concerned. Speaking to John Pacheco, TH2 writes:

 

 My spidey sense are tingling. Be very careful, it might be a ploy or an ambush into making you write something that can be used against you. The blog is brand new, with only two entries. Note the name of her blog, “kakistokrat” means “an unprincipled person in power” or “an incompetant leader, or puppet of a corrupt system”. Perhaps I am too paranoid? Better to be safe than sorry. She might have been dispatched to counter the criticsms you have levelled against the CCCB.

 

Yes, I’m a more patient Fr. Rosica…

 

 In truth too much credit is being extended my way. Can I set the record straight.

 

 My name is Kelly Wilson. I am a “he” and not a “she,” and I prefer it when people remember that. I am in my twenties, and am a student. I have a Bachelor of Arts (English Literature), and was working on my Bachelor of Education, before joining a Roman Catholic Seminary and beginning what I hope will be a long period of discernment.

 

I have been told that I bear a physical resemblance to the defeated (and now deposed) Stephane Dion. Had he become Prime Minister, I had planned to leave my studies, and claim to be an illegitimate son of his. This would have been done to further myself financially.

 

I enjoy writing. I have had several articles published in the Catholic Insight. When the first one was published (an article, and not a very good one, on St. Peter Claver), in my biographical blurb I was referred to as a “she.” Another article was on Damien of Molokai & Robert Louis Stevenson (it can be read here) , and one on Mother Frances Cabrini is in the process of being published. I would like to spend more time writing but time is limited.

 

Among my childhood memories is one of my older sister and I defacing, with chicken stamps, the political campaign signs of the man who is now the Manitoba Liberal Leader. This we did as very young children, but it seems the Manitoba Liberal Leader has never recovered (I’m assuming there’s a statute of limitations on this sort of thing).

 

The rumour that I have a great grandmother, age 104, in prison in the Congo for attempting to overthrow their ruler in the late 1980’s is officially false, and has consistently received the response ‘No comment’ when CIA has been questioned regarding her supposed status as one of their agents.

 

I enjoy movies (among my favorites are The Village, Heat, Big Fish, Pan’s Labyrinth, K-PAX, The Insider, and Millions), music (I unapologetically like Avril Lavigne), and literature. I particular like the works of Graham Greene and Giovanni Guareschi and Lemony Snicket, and the poetry of Stevie Smith.

 

With more expertise, I may have a few books inside me (perhaps one on the themes of faith and doubt in Victorian poetry, and one on the spirituality found within the films of M. Night Shymalan). But that’s all I wanted to say about me for now. Really I just wanting address the claim that I am doing that bidding of the CCCB . To those who wonder, the title of my post is intended as my answer.

 

Kelly Wilson. 

Gaillardetz & The CCCB

I wanted to engage with some of the thought surrounding Dr. Gaillardetz’ invitation to address the Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops at the annual Plenary Assemby. I have decided to use as my framework a letter written by a Torontonian by the name of Tom Richardson. It was published in the Western Catholic Reporter and can be read by clicking here (it’s the third letter down).

Gaillardetz’ invitation is also getting a lot of attention in the blogosphere.  For example, you could read Allen Troupe’s “Has the CCCB Left the Catholic Church,” or Steve’s “Canadian Bishops Ask Heretic To Give Them Inspiration.” There is also John Pacheco’s page at SOCON OR BUST, entitled “The Gaillardetz Visit: Inviting Dissent.” I can’t possibly, initially, engage with all they are saying, and like I said, I am using Richardson’s letter as a framework:

Letter writer Tom Richardson mistakenly presents Dr. Gaillardetz as a “hard-core liberal dissenter.” The Vatican’s Instruction on the vocation of the theologians, notes that theologians “must take into account the proper character of every exercise of the Magisterium, considering the extent to which its authority is engaged.” Gaillardetz, chosen to present to the Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops, never rejects the teaching of Ordinatio Sacerdotalis, but as an ecclesiologist he fulfills his function by attempting to determine the document’s weight. The Instruction speaks of duty, but Richardson sees malice: “No one raises the issue of infallibility regarding women’s ordination unless they intend on overthrowing it.” Wrong.

Gaillardetz is simply offering his professional expertise regarding the weight a particular teaching has been presented with. Even if Gaillardetz’ assessment is wrong, that would not make him a “hard-core liberal dissenter,” and his error would be understandable because it would be shared by Francis Sullivan, whose work in ecclesiology (in the English speaking world) is second to none.

Richardson is also bothered that Gaillardetz seems to question the strategy of overturning Roe vs. Wade. However, Gaillardetz is making what he believes to be prudential judgment as to what is the best way to reduce abortions, and his judgment is one that can either be agreed or disagreed with (to the extent that overturning Roe v. Wade would simply return abortion to the purview of individual states, an argument can be made that there are more effective ways to reduce the number of abortions). In any event, Gaillardetz’ judgment is doctrinally irrelevant to his ecclesiology and so not really that interesting to his status as a “hard-core liberal dissenting” Catholic.

Why is the fact that Gaillardetz sits on Obama’s Catholic advisory board so bothersome? Why are his pro-life credentials suddenly in question? Richardson claims that “everyone knows that Obama only selects to his committees those who will faithfully follow his culture of death agenda,” but Richardson was not privy to the discussions on Obama’s advisory board. Is he supposing that Gaillardetz is lying when he claims “I did not support President Obama’s position on abortion and when I was asked to be on his advisory board, I made it clear to his senior staff that, were I appointed to the board, I would continue to voice my opposition to the senator on that issue. I was told that such criticism would be welcomed and indeed it was. Several of us on the advisory board called time and again for a change in Senator Obama’s positions…”

Finally, Richardson accuses Gaillardetz of attacking the teaching of Humanae Vitae, yet Gaillardetz has a 3.5 page defense of it in the book criticized by Richardson. Richardson accuses Gaillardetz of advising couples who struggle with the Church’s teaching on contraception to follow their consciences, and he views this as being in line with the “dissenting” Winnipeg Statement.

First of all, it is the opinion of some individuals, and not of the Church, that the Winnipeg Statement engaged in dissent. Had Richardson a working knowledge of the document, of how it relates to those presented by other episcopal responses, of some of the conversation surrounding the question of the infallibility of Humanae Vitae, or of the relationship between conscience and dissent, his assessment of Gaillardetz would have been expressed differently.

I appreciate Richardson’s interest in the state of the Canadian Church but his criticisms are weak, and in place of them I think Canadian Catholics would be better off giving the benefit of the doubt to a great number of American Bishops who have employed Gaillardetz’ services and placed their confidence in him, and to the Canadian Bishops who have now done the same.

Kelly Wilson.

Crossing the Bar

 

    Alfred Lord Tennyson was certainly the most popular poet of his day. The evaluation of him since then is mixed. Some would consider him the greatest of the Victorian poets, others would vehemently object. W.H. Auden, for example, was able to say both that Tennyson had “the finest ear, perhaps, of any English poet,” and also that Tennyson was the “stupidest” of English poets. Tennyson certainly isn’t one of my favourites (not even close), but to identify him as the “stupidest” is a bit of a stretch.

     In Tennyson’s poem “Crossing the Bar,” our speaker introduces his reader to a rather serene setting: The sun has set and the sky is clear. A star shines in the distance, and a call penetrates the silence. Our speaker is to set sail. A sand bank, or a bar, lies across the mouth of the harbor and our speaker expresses his hope that there be “no moaning of the bar,” when he puts out to sea.

     The “moaning” refers to the beating of the ocean against the bar and it would seem the speaker has nothing to fear. Perhaps his view of the sea allows him to remark that the moving tide “seems asleep,” a reference that reinforces the sense of calm. The tide is too full to produce such a moaning, and if the tide has pulled anything from the depths of the sea, our speaker assures us, that such objects will “turn again home” as the tide recedes.

     Structurally, the third stanzas returns to the first. Chronologically a certain progression is occuring. It was sunset, and now it’s twilight. He was being called before, and now the bell is ringing. His departure draws closer. The calmness that he desires of the waters, he now desires both of those he loves and those who love him (“may there be no sadness of farewell”). This is his farewell—that much is obvious—but where is he going, and when will he be back?

     The fourth stanza requires that the previous three be reread. Where is our speaker going? He’s dying. He is about to travel beyond Time and Place. The day that is coming to an end is his life and the harbour that he must leave is this world. The calm waters likely represent his desire for a peaceful death, while the Pilot he hopes to see is most likely God (or perhaps someone who will oversee [“Pilot”] his journey to God).

     Tennyson’s body of work honestly testifies to his own doubts and fears (I’ll elaborate on this perhaps next week…), but here in “Crossing the Bar,” the speaker’s voice (we can safely say it’s Tennyson’s own) reflects and concludes that despite the uncertainties about eternity, hope remains. This was not the last poem Tennyson ever wrote, but it was the one that he requested always conclude any anthology of his work. As a result his final words to his reader express the hope that God is waiting for him on the other side of the bar.

 K.