Eighth Sunday after Pentecost
In today’s liturgy we are offered a magnificent portrait of the glory of the Church of God. This morning at Matins, we read in the book of Kings about the glory of the first temple built by Solomon. This king, during whose reign the kingdom of Israel was at peace, was one of the prototypes of Christ; the temple prefigures the Church. This fits in perfectly with our reflections on the papacy in the Church, begun two weeks ago.
As should be evident from what we have already considered, the Church does not exist for the Pope; it is the Pope who exists for the Church. He plays the role that Solomon did in Israel. Like Solomon he can have a peaceful and glorious reign and do much good to extend the kingdom. Like Solomon too, he can fall into vice and idolatry and cause much damage to the Church.
Last week we mentioned three popes who went astray in their teaching, one of whom was formally condemned as a heretic and excommunicated by a subsequent pope and council. We pointed out that Our blessed Lord clearly foresaw the scandal of a pope who would not be submissive to Christ, and how he went so far as to call Peter “Satan” for opposing the Father’s will, a warning to all future popes, bishops and priests that when they stand in the place of Christ, they do not replace Him, but must always speak and act with reference to the Lord Himself of whom they are only the servants, and whose message they must faithfully convey.
Today I would like to consider St Paul’s epistle to the Galatians. From the start of the epistle, we see the apostle very disturbed by reports he is getting about them, as they are being led astray by some new teaching. These new heretics were essentially saying that the Gospel received from Paul was only part of the truth and that in order to be a true Christian one also had to observe the Mosaic Law. St Paul does not mince his words. Let’s listen:
I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting him who called you in the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel — not that there is another one, but there are some who trouble you and want to distort the gospel of Christ. But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed. As we have said before, so now I say again: If anyone is preaching to you a gospel contrary to the one you received, let him be accursed. For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ (Gal 1:6-10).
The terms the apostle uses in this reprimand deserve to be weighed carefully. The whole point is to stress that there is only one Gospel of Jesus Christ and it is the one we have already preached. So if anyone is preaching something else, then you can write them off as impostors. If anyone comes up with any other means of salvation, you can be sure they are wrong. It does not matter who might be preaching this, the apostle says. With great humility, he even acknowledges that he himself could fall into the trap, if he were to try to please men. Somewhat surprisingly he also mentions an angel from Heaven. Who is this angel from Heaven? Well, obviously it could only be a diabolical illusion. Satan often transforms himself into an angel of light in order to lead away the curious. So again, it does not matter who the preaching might be from. If it is not the Gospel already preached, then it can only be a fake Gospel, which we must flee, for if we abandon the truth, we will be accursed.
The insistence of the Apostle fits in well with what we mentioned last week about the infallibility of the faithful, or the Ecclesia Discens, that is to say, the sensus catholicus by which the faithful know their Shepherd and recognise the wolves. The wolf can be disguised as an angel from heaven; he can be disguised as a priest, a bishop, a cardinal, a pope. When you know your catechism well, you are already an apprentice theologian, and you will sense when something is not quite right.
In the next chapter of the same epistle, St Paul practices what he has just preached. He tells us of an episode that took place in the city of Antioch. Recall that the Council of Jerusalem (Acts 15) had decreed that the Gentile converts to the faith did not have to be circumcised and observe the Mosaic Law. Peter himself had received God’s revelation of this and therefore he willingly ate with Gentiles when the opportunity arose, something that orthodox Jews until then would never have done, under pain of becoming ritually impure. But a certain occasion arose, when some Jewish converts showed up, and Peter kept away from the Gentiles and ate only with the Jews, thus pretending he was keeping the Mosaic Law. He was playing both sides, currying favour so as not to shock the Jews. If it had only been a matter of rules of politeness, it would not have been serious. The problem is, by acting in this way, Peter was compromising the faith on the matter of what is required for salvation, letting on to the Jews that they did well to keep practicing the Mosaic Law, but allowing the Gentiles not to. Paul could not take this hypocrisy which endangered the very first major doctrinal decision taken by the infant Church. So what did he do? Did he keep it to himself? Did he take refuge in silence so as not to rock the boat? Did he hide behind the facile excuse of saying: Oh well, Peter’s the Pope, he knows what he’s doing? Let’s listen:
When Cephas came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he stood condemned. For before certain men came from James, he was eating with the Gentiles; but when they came he drew back and separated himself, fearing the circumcision party. And the rest of the Jews acted hypocritically along with him, so that even Barnabas was led astray by their hypocrisy. But when I saw that their conduct was not in step with the truth of the Gospel, I said to Cephas before them all, “If you, though a Jew, live like a Gentile and not like a Jew, how can you force the Gentiles to live like Jews?” (Gal 2:11-14).
Treating of this episode in the context of the duties of fraternal correction, St Thomas Aquinas writes: “It must be observed that if the faith were endangered, a subject ought to rebuke his prelate even publicly. Hence Paul, who was Peter’s subject, rebuked him in public, on account of the imminent danger of scandal concerning faith… Peter gave an example to superiors, that if at any time they should happen to stray from the straight path, they should not disdain to be reproved by their subjects” (IIa-IIae, q. 33., a.4, ad 2). This has led to the well known and solid principle: “The pontiff is not to be judged by anyone, unless he has deviated from the faith.” Now, while not just anyone can publicly declare the heresy of the pontiff, it remains that anyone who has the faith can admonish the Pope, were he to teach anything that is clearly contrary to it.
This standing up to the Pope’s face of which St Paul gave the first example, is illustrated by the interesting historical episode of St Bruno, Bishop of Segni and Abbot of Montecassino (not to be confused with the founder of the Carthusians). Bruno was made a bishop by none other than Hildebrand, the great Benedictine Pope St Gregory VII, initiator of what came to be known as the Gregorian Reform. The most fundamental aspect of this reform was to wrest from the Emperor the abuse of what was called imperial investiture, by which the emperor would appoint a bishop and give him the ring and crozier, thereby essentially forcing the Church to consecrate him. It was a terrible abuse which essentially made the bishops the vassals of the emperor. Gregory VII put an end to that by boldly confronting and excommunicating the Emperor Henry IV whom he forced to plea for pardon kneeling in the snow at Canossa. One of Gregory’s successors, however, Paschal II, faced with a difficult situation in which the new emperor Henry V refused to accept the new law, came to a compromise, and eventually crowned him, thus caving in to his demands and accepting to step back, thus losing the terrain that Gregory had so valiantly won.
Many protests arose throughout the Church at the time, but St Bruno was one of the loudest voices to be heard. He protested vigorously against what he called not a privilegium (that is to say a privilege), but a pravilegium (that is to say a depravity) and promoted a movement of resistance against the papal compliancy. He even went so far as to call this conduct of Paschal II heretical. “Whoever defends heresy is a heretic. Nobody can say that this is not heresy”, wrote Bruno. This of course did not please Paschal II who removed him from his position as abbot of Montecassino. Several years later, a council restored the right order of things, and Bruno after his death was canonised. In the heat of the debate, in a letter to the Pope, Bruno wrote these inspiring lines: “My enemies say that I do not love thee and that I am speaking ill of thee behind thy back, but they are lying. I indeed love thee, as I must love my Father and lord. To thee living, I do not desire another Pontiff, as I promised thee along with many others. Nevertheless, I obey our Saviour who says to me: Whoever loves father and mother more than me, is not worthy of me….(Mt 10:37). I must love thee, but greater yet must I love Him who made thee and me.”
There we have an inspiring example from a saint of God, who recognises the Pope’s error, admonishes him for it, pays a dear price, and yet continues to love his father in Christ, love which he manifests by saying the hard truths he needs to hear. So it is often in history, in our personal lives as well: we find ourselves in a situation that has no human solution. Then it is that we must hold firm to what we know is true, and wait for God to step in. Today’s offertory verse, which we will sing in just a few minutes, says it all, quoting Psalm 17: The humble people Thou wilt save, O Lord, and the eyes of the proud Thou wilt humble, for who is God but Thee?
Is this not the very heart of prayer and the very reason for which God allows us to find ourselves up against a wall, namely so that we will turn to Him in humble prayer and acknowledge that we alone can do nothing. If we do that consistently, we will receive that mercy of God in the midst of the holy Temple of the Church of which the introit speaks and we will look back at the present crisis as a time of priceless graces that taught us the most important lesson we can learn in this life: we are not in control, we should not want to be, for if we were, we would only make a bigger mess. God alone can save us. The humble people Thou wilt save, O Lord, and the eyes of the proud Thou wilt humble, for who is God but Thee?
