1 - New Theology Review

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volume 2, number 1
April 2015
EDITORS
Matthew M. Dougherty, O.Praem., Editorin-Chief
JOURNAL INFORMATION
Theophilus: A Student Journal of the Catholic
Theological Union is a student managed, reviewed, and edited Catholic journal of theology and pastoral ministry. It publishes peerreviewed articles written by students of the
Catholic Theological Union. Theophilus is an online, open-access journal published by the Catholic Theological Union through its Paul Bechtold
Library.
STAFF
Jaime Briceno, Layout Editor
Matthew M. Dougherty, O.Praem, Copy
Editor
Stephanie Cherpak Clary, Copy Editor
Mara Rutten, Copy Editor
Graham R. Golden, O.Praem., Art Show
Curator, Communication Director
Further information, including author guidlines
and instructions on how to submit manuscripts,
is available at the journal website,
http://www.theophilusjournal.org/.
EDITORIAL BOARD
Jaime Bernardo Ávila-Borunda
Michael J. Brennan, O.Praem.
Melissa Carnall
Stephanie Cherpak Clary
John Joseph DeCostanza, Jr.
Graham R. Golden, O. Praem.
Matthew Gummess, O.Carm.
Sarah Kohles, O.S.F.
Roger A Lopez, O.F.M.
Ernest Miller, F.S.C.
Jason Salisbury, O.F.M.Cap.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 License.
ISSN: 2374-4251
FACULTY ADVISOR
John Barker, O.F.M.
http://www.facebook.com/theophilusjournal
http://theophilusjournal.wordpress.com
i
Editor’s Page
T
his past year has been a busy one for the Church, the fruits of which have provided Christians the world
over a chance to talk openly and honestly about a host of issues facing the Church in the 21st century. Pope
Francis’s call for open and frank discussions surrounding the General Assemblies of the Synod of Bishops
on the Family and the Year of Consecrated Life have been heeded by clerics, religious, and lay men and women
alike in parish social halls, in the religious and secular media, and the public square more generally. As a student
journal committed to the Catholic Theological Union’s mission to prepare future leaders in the Church and the
world, we thought it appropriate to give voice to emerging student leaders who will undoubtedly help to shape
the Church’s identity and mission into the future.
Therefore, in addition to publishing five articles on such diverse topics as biblical hermeneutics and pedagogical techniques for pastors and parish leaders on the Rite of Christian Initiation, Theophilus is proud to highlight
seven student voices on the topics of Marriage and the Family and Consecrated Life. Aside from the usual tired
polemics surrounding these issues, our student authors highlight their experiences of living out their vocations
from a wide array of viewpoints and vocational commitments. Our prayer is that by engaging these accounts,
our readers will be invited to better reflect on their own vocations as married or religious men and women, and
that they will find comfort and hope in our Church’s emerging and future leaders.
In addition to the events facing the Church universal, Theophilus has remained committed to its identity and
mission to provide an avenue for students to showcase their work and participate in conversations through their
research. Toward this end, Theophilus has expanded its task to move beyond the strictly defined theological
disciplines to include the visual arts. This past March, Theophilus was proud to showcase pieces of student artwork in a cover-art competition and art show, the winner of which is featured as this issue’s cover. We pray that
our readers will be edified by our 2015 issue and will help spread our mission of raising up young and emerging
voices as we as Church move into the future.
Many blessings,
Matthew M. Dougherty, O. Praem.
Editor-in-chief
ii
volume 2 number 1, April 2015
Acknowledgements
O
n behalf of the Theophilus team, I would like to express my gratitude for the invaluable help we received
to make this 2015 issue of Theophilus a possibility. We would like to thank Melody Layton McMahon,
our publisher, for investing so much time and effort into our project. We would also like to thank John
Barker, our faculty adviser, for his guidance and advice as we navigated the tasks of expanding our project and
ensuring its rootedness in the student life of Catholic Theological Union. We would like to specially thank Gina
Wolf, acting Dean for the Fall Semester of 2014, Barbara Reid, Academic Dean of Catholic Theological Union,
and Mark Francis, President of Catholic Theological Union, for being encouraging and supportive of our project
from the beginning.
We would also like to thank the following: Melody Layton McMahon with the Paul Bechtold Library and the Student Representative Council (SRC) of Catholic Theological Union for their financial support of the Paul Bechtold
Library Faculty Choice Award and the Theophilus launch celebration and symposium; Melody Layton McMahon,
Antonio Sison, and the editors of the New Theology Review for their helpful tips on journal publication; Jaime
Briceno and Brendan Dowd for their web and logo design talents; Stephen Bevans, Maria Cimperman, and
Laurie Brink for serving as judges for the Paul Bechtold Library Faculty Choice Award; Maria de Jesus Lemus,
Antoine Lawlor, Ronit Bezalel, and Nancy Nickels for assisting in the promotion and marketing of Theophilus;
Christine Henderson for her help with event planning; Graham R. Golden and Michael Brennan for putting together the Theophilus Art Show and Cover-Art Competition, all of the students who submitted their artwork for
Jaime Bernardo Avila Borunda for the use of his Icon in our cover art and Ronit Bezalel for her photography. We
would like to thank Roger Lopez, Jason Salisbury, and Michael Brennan for their organization and execution of
the Theophilus Symposium. We would also like to thank Mara Rutten for her copy-editing skills and for rescuing
us from an otherwise overwhelming task.
Finally, we would like to thank the members of our editorial board who made the peer review process possible: Jaime Bernardo Avila-Borunda, Stephanie Cherpak Clary, Michael J. Brennan, Melissa Carnall, John DeCostanza, Graham R. Golden, Matthew Gummess, Sarah Kohles, Roger A. Lopez, Ernest Miller, and Jason Salisbury; the CTU scholars who submitted their work to the journal; and you, our readers, for taking an interest in
Theophilus: The Student Journal of the Catholic Theological Union.
Matthew M. Dougherty, O.Praem
Editor-in-chief
iii
Article
Scripture as the Occasion for Feminism
by Edward Tverdek1
C
I.
an the Bible make one a feminist? Note that the question here is not, “Can a feminist read (and appreciate)
the Bible?” Feminists, of course, do read the Bible. While most might find it at least occasionally a challenge to their feminist sensibilities, only some who approach the matter with Christian faith intact—most
famously, perhaps, Mary Daly—walk away from it rejecting that faith. Many manage to retain their Christian
convictions in spite of what may seem like a consistently dismal portrayal of Scripture’s female characters and
its often tacit prescriptions for men in keeping women in line. Still others may even find their faith renewed and
fortified by their feminist reading of Scripture, especially those who discover in the text a more feminine representation of God. 1
No, the question posed above refers to the reverse situation: might it ever occur to someone who is not already
a professed feminist and who grapples with Scripture that, at the very least, women in his or her own contemporary culture do not get a fair shake, or even that the revealed, inspirational content of Scripture calls upon us to
liberate women from chronic forms of oppression? Can Scripture, in short, be the occasion for forming feminist
sympathies? Many people might take the answer to be so obviously “no, of course not” that the question would
be dismissed out of hand. Those who actually do feminist theology and biblical exegesis would no doubt themselves argue that it is practically impossible to read the Bible (or any text) “cold” and without certain presuppositions, and that one must be at least mildly committed to ending women’s oppression in its various forms in order
to find corroboration for this in Scripture.
What seems peculiar about this is that it is not entirely true for other messages of human liberation thought
to be fostered by Scripture. In particular, Latin American liberation theologians have the benefit of a popular
perception that the Bible already talks a good deal and quite sympathetically about the poor and the economically oppressed, and often portrays the Judeo-Christian God as being squarely on their side. Elisabeth Schüssler
Fiorenza, one of the more prominent voices in feminist biblical criticism today, has conceded as much. While we
need not imagine that scores of Christians have moved seamlessly from the Gospel of Luke to Karl Marx’s Die
Grundrisse, it seems fair to say that the economic message of liberation theology has a decided advantage over
the message of feminist biblical theology: many people already believe Scripture to be at least in part about the
liberation of the poor, while few people if any expect to get from reading the Bible what they might get from
reading The Second Sex.
1 Edward Tverdek, OFM, is an MDiv student at CTU and a native Chicagoan. He holds a PhD in Philosophy from the University of Illinois at Chicago,
and specializes in moral and political philosophy, Marxist and feminist theory, distributive justice, environmentalism, and religious epistemology.
Edward’s previous publications have appeared in journals such as Ethics, Science & Society, Public Affairs Quarterly, and The Australian eJournal of
Theology, and his book The Moral Weight of Ecology is forthcoming on Lexington Press in 2016
1
The remarks that follow will not belabor the obvious point that Scripture may superficially be read as unfriendly
to the cause of women’s emancipation. Nor will I be arguing the contrarian position that a feminist message is
readily and with only mild effort harvested from Scripture; this, we can concede from the start, is implausible.
No, the aim here is to navigate the waters in between these extremes—to address a simpler question: what must
we bring to the scriptural table in order to leave it again both with a confidence in the reign of God and with the
aspiration to liberate women from the various forms of oppression that still hold sway in this world? This is, of
course, primarily a methodological question of how we approach sacred Scripture. But it also amounts to a relevant pastoral matter to ask just what “people in the pews” would need to understand and believe before they
approach Scripture if they are to, as many feminist scholars suggest they can, find an emancipatory message for
women embedded in the revelation of God’s word.
II.
If you come to appreciate period music—be it, say, chamber works of the baroque era or nineteenth-century
banjo performances—you soon find yourself in a dilemma. What counts as an authentic interpretation of music
from the desired period: that which is created on instruments actually manufactured in the corresponding era,
or that created on instruments built in the contemporary period to the standards applied during the period of
interest? The differences can be quite stark; a well-preserved violin built in 1715 will have remarkable resonance
when played in 2015, but its tone will be very different from the tone it produced for European ears three hundred years ago. Conversely, a baroque-style violin built today may sound somewhat muted to modern ears familiar with orchestral instruments built to modern standards (with, e.g., steel strings rather than the gut strings
of pre-modernity) and seasoned by at least a few decades of playing. But that muted, gut-string sound is pretty
much what denizens of eighteenth-century Europe would have heard from a violin built around that time. To
demand modern sonorities from the instruments is, for some listeners, to defeat the purposes of appreciating
period music. Neither instrument, consequently, has the same sound that it did for listeners in early-eighteenthcentury Europe.
Such is the problem of anachronism. When we attempt to preserve the meaning of something over the course of
time, whether it is a few generations or several centuries, we find ourselves troubled by the question of whether
fidelity to what we believe to be original intent suggests preserving (or, if necessary, rehabilitating) “original”
content and inserting it into contemporary settings, or somehow adapting that “original” meaning to those newer settings so that the experience of the content is similar to what it was in its original setting. Change the issue
from cultural meaning to legal intent, and we capture virtually every important dispute over Constitutional law.
If the relevance of the metaphor to biblical studies is not already apparent, consider an example where an
aesthetic decision about an authentic reading of the text is at stake. In his film The Passion of the Christ, based
loosely on Gospel accounts of the Passion supplemented by the reported mystical visions of Ann Catherine Emmerich, director Mel Gibson famously opted to forgo a vernacular script for Aramaic, Hebrew, and occasional
Latin. While Gibson’s apparent aim was authenticity, many critics noted that, even if his rendering was accurate
(this is itself doubtful, since characters speaking Latin would more likely have conversed in Greek), he succeeded
at most in recreating the acoustic qualities of first-century Palestine. How modern ears understood the strange
utterances emitted from the soundtrack had presumably little in common with how Jesus’ contemporaries understood them; the latter had little need for subtitles. Gibson’s play at authenticity thus arguably backfired:
non-Aramaic speaking audiences (i.e., most of us) got little sense of the cultural patois of Jesus’ Galilee and
Jerusalem.
Contrast this with, among many examples, Martin Scorsese’s film adaptation of Nikos Kazantzakis’ novel The Last
Temptation of Christ. While Kazantzakis’ story is an expressly fictionalized account of Jesus of Nazareth’s minis-
2
try, the film audience arguably has a better sense of social relations among the occupants of Jesus’ milieu than
they do from Gibson’s film. David Bowie’s British English captures the calm, aristocratic demeanor that we might
imagine Pontius Pilate to have had; Harvey Keitel does little to mask his native Brooklyn accent in portraying
Judas Iscariot. While Mel Gibson reproduced the sounds of the region and era—much like we might either fabricate a baroque violin today or hear a genuine one that is uncharacteristically seasoned by three hundred years
of playing—Scorsese departs from the text in an attempt to capture a sense of how we might have experienced
it in context, where subtle differences in dialect signal crucial differences in social location.
III.
Anachronism is precisely the fear of scholars concerned with feminists and others who find liberatory content in
Scripture. It is only possible to find feminist readings of the Bible, they worry, if that is what you are looking for
in the first place; one is attributing to the text ideas that make sense in one’s own time but would never have occurred to the people found in the narrative, much less to the original author. If, to put it differently, you are finding justification for your particular cause in the words of the prophets or the parables of Jesus of Nazareth, you
are missing the point: your cause is contemporary, while the Judeo-Christian Bible captures the lives of people
living anywhere from 3000 to 2000 years ago.
It would be easy to dismiss this position as a caricature, though history is not without its voices to this effect. Encountering a text such as the Bible is more or less a science, we were told in the earliest days of the historical-critical method (hereafter, “HCM”), and the goal of the biblical exegete is strictly to determine the author’s original
intent, as it would be with any text. All else is mere advocacy disguised as scholarship; it is eisegesis, not exegesis.
Schüssler Fiorenza describes the limits of what she calls this “Rankean view of history” (after nineteenth-century
German historian Leopold von Ranke).2 Such a view, caught up as it was in the scientific fervor of the nascent
industrial age, predates modern theories of hermeneutics outlined a century later which cast serious doubt on
any unmediated, “scientific” analysis of “authorial intent” that fails to acknowledge our own interests and presuppositions in electing to read the text in the first place.
This is not to say, however, that contemporary practitioners of the HCM are any less prone to consider interested
readings of the Biblical text to be advocacy. The difference, one might argue, is the acknowledgment that we are
all advocates now—i.e., every reader of Scripture has some sort of interested view when he or she approaches
the text. The text itself, however, still speaks for itself, and we remain methodologically (if not ethically) bound
to at least try to separate the author’s original intent from our exegetical aims, however intractable this task
may be.3 Perhaps what is unique to modern efforts of biblical criticism is the attempt to capture the unique roles
and attitudes of the exegete and the interpreter. Krister Stendahl famously described the distinction in terms of
what the author meant and what the text now means: the former is a descriptive endeavor undertaken by the
exegete, while the latter is a normative question for the theologian who tries to understand it as the revealed
word of God, as well as for the preacher or pastor who must locate spiritual truth within it.4 Raymond Brown
reiterates and elaborates, suggesting that the literal sense of the text is closed off “when it has left the pen of
the author,” at which point its canonical sense takes hold and the text is understood as Scripture; since it is the
hierarchy of the Church that has decided just what is Scripture and what is Apocrypha, it is the Magisterium
2 Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza, Bread Not Stone: The Challenge of Feminist Biblical Interpretation: with a New Afterword (Boston: Beacon Press,
1995), 94-98.
3 “[I]t should be clear,” Joseph Fitzmyer tells us, “that the use of all such [Biblical] criticism is geared to one end: to determine the meaning of the
text as it was intended and expressed by the human author moved long ago to compose it.” See Joseph A Fitzmyer, The Interpretation of Scripture:
In Defense of the Historical-critical Method (New York: Paulist Press, 2008), 66.
4 Krister Stendahl, “Method in the Study of Biblical Theology,” in The Bible in Modern Scholarship: Papers Read at the 100th Meeting of the Society
of Biblical Literature December 1964, ed. J. Philip Hyatt (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1965), 197-216.
3
that is for Brown the primary interpreter of “what the text means.”5 Thus even for the late-twentieth-century
understanding of the HCM, the text is of its time and place, and could not conceivably be speaking of something
peculiar to our modern sensibilities. We may have more of a legitimate claim in reading the text through the
lens of those sensibilities, modern or archaic, but we do not imagine that this is what the text really meant to
its authors. An advocacy reading on behalf of women, post-colonial cultures, or any other dispossessed group is
fine, so long as we acknowledge that this is an advocacy reading and not properly exegesis.
IV.
We would lose a great deal of texture and substance to reduce the many feminist criticisms of this vestigial
conceit—this self-understanding of the HCM as having a privileged focus on “what the text meant”—down to
one iconic objection. The position’s perceived androcentrism, however, serves as a useful thumbnail for a much
bigger picture, especially when space is limited as it is here. Androcentrism is a term that, despite relatively
widespread usage (47,700 hits on Google.com as of this writing) since the dawn of second-wave feminism, still
struggles for acceptance (the noun form earns a red underscore when typed into MS Word while its adjective
form does not, apparently signaling to authors that particular things can fairly be described as “kinda-sorta androcentric,” but we wouldn’t want to go so far as saying this is a real phenomenon). Far from the patriarch’s and
the misogynist’s nightmare of castrating women bent on tearing down their beloved institutions, androcentrism
refers more to the epistemic causes (and effects) of women’s oppression than to its political manifestations.
It says simply but quite effectively that our understanding of the world (for both men and women) is normed
according to masculine values and interests—i.e., that the male view is taken to be the human view while we
rational thinkers are reassured that “gender has nothing to do with it.”
In our case here, the claim that contemporary HCM retains an androcentric bias would suggest that (a) the
distinction between “what the text meant”—be it defined by the author’s original intention or otherwise—and
“what the text means” is a red herring; and (b) it is a red herring that finds credibility only because it privileges
a particularly male-defined way of approaching exegesis, one that clings to the possibility of a value-neutral
reading of the text, however difficult we concede this may be to achieve in practice. For feminist biblical analysis—as well as feminist literary criticism, as well as just about any hermeneutical standpoint not under the
direct tutelage of the androcentric canon—what the text means is not simply difficult to abstract from what it
meant; it is of its nature impossible. It would be akin to my saying to a native German speaker, “translate your
term Wissenschaft into English for me, but don’t tell me what it means to German speakers; I’ll figure that out
on my own”; meaning is what we are after by translating in the first place. Traditional androcentric methods of
biblical exegesis, to put it in terms of our baroque instrument metaphor, foreclose on the question of which performance brings us closer to the experience of hearing Bach’s Partita for Solo Violin #3 for the first time in the
early eighteenth century. It is either, we must believe, one played on a baroque facsimile or one played now on
an instrument built in 1715. We may dispute the relative merits of these two approaches, committed as we are
to our favorite theories of period music reproduction, but we fail to notice that perhaps the best way to replicate
what the experience meant to Leipzig residents circa 1720 will involve not a violin or J.S. Bach at all but might
require a Fender Stratocaster and Jimmy Hendrix, a combination that has a peculiar meaning for us—those with
an historical perspective that can draw meaningful lines between baroque music and classic rock.
While the sources of androcentrism may be epistemic, however, its presence in biblical scholarship ultimately
carries theological and political consequences for women which are not terribly different in kind from those imposed by much more crude, nineteenth-century conceptions of a “purely scientific” study of the text. Witness
Susanne Scholz:
5 Raymond Edward Brown, The Critical Meaning of the Bible (New York: Paulist Press, 1981), 29-41. Schüssler Fiorenza considers both Stendahl’s and
Brown’s interpretation of the “what it meant” versus “what it means” distinction; see Bread Not Stone, Chapter 6.
4
Historical criticism allows interpreters to position biblical literature in a distant past, far removed
from today’s politics, economics, or religion. Although the exclusion of contemporary questions is
not an essential requirement of historical methodology, especially not as understood by many historians during the last decades, biblical scholars often continue using historical criticism in a way that
keeps the bible separate from today’s world.6
We should consider very carefully the nature of this criticism. It suggests that the HCM has indeed taken a turn
for the better in the twentieth century and surrendered some of the scientific pretenses that sullied its inception, but that it simply has trouble living up to these perceived improvements. The HCM acknowledges that we
bring baggage with us when analyzing the text, but is over-confident in how easily it believes we can abandon
androcentric biases. Carol Vander Stichele and Todd Penner, in their introductory contribution to the volume
that features Sholz’s comments, are more explicit on the “corrective” nature of feminist criticism:
The problem…is not with partiality per se, but in the denial thereof. Indeed, from this perspective
the tools themselves are not to be blamed in principle, but rather the ways in which they have been
used. Feminist criticism could therefore use them to serve different ends…and to recover the voices
and traditions about women—all women—in the sources of the past…Feminist critics are thus explicit about their own social location—and the way in which that location affects their historical
reconstruction—in a way that earlier male-stream scholars could not possibly be.7
In much the same way, Schüssler Fiorenza describes how her “hermeneutic of suspicion” outlined in her germinal text In Memory of Her may be applied to the HCM—not, apparently, to dismiss it but to temper it and make
it better at what it aims to do:
Feminist studies therefore maintains that established scholarship as androcentric scholarship is not
only partial to the extent that it articulates male experience as human experience, but also biased,
to the extent that its intellectual discourse and scholarly frameworks are determined only by male
perspectives primarily of the dominant classes. This feminist claim runs counter to the assertion of
traditional historical-critical biblical scholarship that prides itself on being impartial, objective, and
value-neutral. Recognizing its sociopolitical location and public commitment, a feminist biblical interpretation must therefore utilize historical-critical methods for the sake of presenting alternative
interpretation of biblical texts and history for public scholarly discussion and historical assessment.8
Pause to consider Schüssler Fiorenza’s point here: the historical-critical method is not dead, nor does it deserve
to be killed off; it is merely wounded by its androcentric biases. And what might feminist critics of the HCM use
to correct these biases in their own work? Why, the historical-critical method, of course.
V.
I have been writing largely in abstractions thus far when describing “feminist methods” of biblical exegesis. If,
as we have just seen, they might be understood to be not an usurpation of the dominant HCM that governs
scriptural studies today but rather a correction—a holding of the HCM to its purported ideals (granted, not all
feminist critics would agree with this)—what exactly do these critical methods entail in practice? Bridget Gilfillan
6 Susanne Scholz, “’Tandoori Reindeer’ and the Limitations of Historical Criticism,” in Her Master’s Tools? Feminist and Postcolonial Engagements of
Historical-critical Discourse, eds. Caroline Vander Stichele and Todd Penner (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2005), 49.
7 Carol Vander Stichele and Todd Penner, “Mastering the Tools or Retooling the Masters? The Legacy of Historical-Critical Discourse,” in Stichele and
Penner, Her Master’s Tools, 14-15.
8 Schüssler-Fiorenza, Bread Not Stone, 107-108.
5
Upton provides us with a concise account, based largely on the earlier work of Mary Ann Tolbert.9 Upton partitions the landscape between, among other things: (a) feminists whose work involves a “remnant standpoint,”
resuscitating and rehabilitating biblical passages that have been overlooked by exegetes drawn by androcentric
biases to the usual corners of the canon, but that might shed light on the role of women in Scripture (Phyllis
Trible’s Texts of Terror serves as an example of this approach); and (b) those who eschew the official canon of the
Bible on the assumption that androcentric principles were active in the initial decisions of what does and does
not count as “the word of God”; these feminist critics, Upton suggests, argue that different criteria for what it
means to be “canonical” yields the inclusion of texts that show a more substantial role for women in the Ancient
Near East than the codified texts would indicate.10
One might well respond to these approaches with a cynical “why bother?” Unless we already believe that women were treated as equal partners with men in the Ancient Near East and were permitted by their cultures to
live lives comparable to women who have reaped some of the benefits of contemporary feminism, what exactly
would we be expecting to find in the “lesser discussed” texts of the Bible or their contemporary apocrypha?
Does not the fact that we are taking our textual interpretations of characters described in the approved and
“unapproved” Scripture and holding those interpretations up for comparison to how we live now itself represent
an androcentric bias—an operating assumption that the past (where men likely ruled most walks of life) must
somehow govern the present and the future, or at least serve as our conceptual starting point? Is this not just
a submission to androcentrism, and not a “correction” of its biases? Sandra M. Schneiders certainly seems to
think so:
[A]ccepting the authority of the Bible does not entail material imitation or replication of the arrangements of first-century Christianity any more than the imitation of Christ entails being a carpenter,
a Jew, a male, or an itinerant preacher. The normativity of the Bible cannot be reduced to material
replication. Consequently, the discovery, insofar as it is possible, of the roles of women in early Christianity, important as this is for the feminist agenda, cannot be used positively to establish the roles
of women in the current church community.11
Or, we might add, any community, if feminist exegesis is to benefit women at large and not just women of the
Judeo-Christian faiths.
We haven’t, however, exhausted the feminist methods that Upton catalogues. In addition to these approaches
that focus on women’s roles in canonical and non-canonical texts, there is a more general methodological aim
of feminist biblical criticism, one she attributes to the writings of Rosemary Radford Reuther: a discovery of the
“prophetic liberating tradition.” This approach focuses on the “canon within the canon,” a particular reading of
the Bible that locates the thread from the Abrahamic covenant to the resurrection of Christ as it weaves through
a recurring message heralding the liberation of the oppressed.12 While examining biblical narrative may play a
role in this approach, it is guided more by an interpretation of the author’s liberatory aims than by the events
9 Bridget Gilfillan Upton, “Feminist Theology as Biblical Hermeneutics,” in The Cambridge Companion to Feminist Theology, ed. Susan Frank Parsons
(Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 97-113. Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza has, of course, laid out what might be considered the
roadmap of feminist biblical exegesis in her In Memory of Her: a Feminist Theological Reconstruction of Christian Origins (New York: Crossroad,
1984).
10 Upton, “Feminist Theology as Biblical Hermeneutics,” 100-101. Credit goes to an anonymous reviewer of an earlier version of this essay in underscoring that neither approach (a) nor (b) can ever employ more than an assumption in this regard; it is impossible for contemporary readers of the
Bible to know for certain just how much or how little its authors in various periods and cultural contexts had the interests of women in mind. This
can only be inferred in retrospect.
11 Sandra M. Schneiders, “The Bible and Feminism: Biblical Theology,” in Freeing Theology: The Essentials of Theology in Feminist Perspective, ed.
Catherine M. LaCugna (New York, NY: HarperOne, 1993), 46-47.
12 Upton, “Feminist Theology as Biblical Hermeneutics,” 100-101.
6
and persons described. One could, in principle, attribute a liberatory message to a biblical author describing
episodes that might seem superficially mundane or even repressive.
Our ear perks up at such a description: this is essentially the method of biblical exegesis that Liberation Theologians have advocated for decades, in the Latin American context and well beyond, is it not? Indeed it is, and
those who have taken up a more explicit account of how liberation theology can yield a fruitful perspective on
biblical exegesis describe this search for the liberatory “thread” throughout Scripture as a methodological starting point.13 Feminist biblical criticism, since it can be said to have a liberatory aim, shares this methodological
principle with liberation theology in general, with the particular aim of identifying and examining the scriptural
passages in which meaning (and what was meant) points to the liberation of women from oppression.
Yet even if we take this approach as potentially more productive than one where we try to locate feminist messages in the actual characters or situations described in Scripture, feminist exegesis is at somewhat of a disadvantage when compared to the liberation theologian: Scripture, it seems, already says a great deal about the
economically marginalized. Ancient Judaism had duties to the dispossessed (hence, for example, the “gleaning”
and “jubilee” traditions), and Jesus of Nazareth was notorious for consorting with them and upbraiding the selfappointed pietists of his milieu for not doing so as well. Not so with the case of women in the Bible; we don’t get
explicit calls for their liberation from oppression, or predictions that they will inherit the earth by virtue of the
conditions they suffer as women. Jesus never addresses them as a class as he does the poor. Liberation theology,
it would seem, has an unambiguous edge when it comes to explicating this “prophetic liberating tradition.” The
point is not ignored by feminist scholars; Schüssler Fiorenza herself concedes that her colleagues doing liberation theology have a somewhat more cooperative text to work with than do feminists:
Liberation theologians maintain…that their pre-understanding—the option for the poor—is not eisegesis but exegesis, since this message is already found in the text: The God of the Bible is the God
of the poor and oppressed. At this point it becomes apparent that the critical hermeneutical task of
feminist theology is more complicated, since it cannot state without qualification that the ‘God of
the Bible is the God of women,’ because there is considerable evidence that the Bible not only was
used against women’s liberation but also had no clear “option” for women’s liberation.14
Pause once again to take stock of where we stand. We have seen that feminist biblical exegetes on the order of
Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza (at least at the time of Bread Not Stone’s publication) see their task as not necessarily closing down the HCM—arguably the dominant model of scriptural scholarship in use today—but rather
opening it up, dismantling the androcentric biases brought to the table from the start so that it can do what it
aims to do. Some practitioners of the HCM, feminists can concede, persist in asserting a hard-and-fast, almost
ontological distinction between what the text meant to its author and what it might mean to its various audiences, but feminist adherents to the HCM know that this is at best a useful heuristic device.
We see now that, despite this fairly modest understanding of the feminist biblical project, there really is not
much to go on in Scripture itself that would invite this particular perspective on the HCM. One must define one’s
feminist outlook outside the text and only then approach biblical analysis. Unlike the liberation theologian, the
feminist theologian is likely to find little feminism in the bible, though she may, Schüssler Fiorenza acknowledges,
find reason to be a liberationist struggling on behalf of the poor even if she had not been before she broke open
the word of God. There is a seeming tension here. Feminist analysis, on the one hand, need not import any sub13 See, for example, Christopher Rowland and Mark Corner, Liberating Exegesis: The Challenge of Third World Liberation Theology to the World of
Biblical Studies (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1990).
14 Schüssler Fiorenza, Bread Not Stone, 138-139. See also Sandra M. Schneiders, The Revelatory Text: Interpreting the New Testament as Sacred
Scripture (Collegeville, MN.: Liturgical Press, 1999), 181.
7
stantive content to the HCM; it merely provides a corrective to androcentric biases in the standard HCM model
that compel practitioners to overlook a more favorable understanding of women’s roles in Scripture. Yet feminist
analysis, on the other hand, unlike the liberationist’s analysis, must have a vision formed outside of the text itself;
the Bible will not be supplying the motivation to take a feminist approach to the Bible.
The anti-feminist Christian might take this apparent contradiction in the aims of feminist biblical scholarship as
license to dismiss the entire project as incoherent. This would be hasty even if it were not likely motivated as
much by enmity as by putative academic rigor. No less important than resolving the seeming contradiction, I
would argue, is the fact that liberation theology might be said to share it, despite appearances and despite the
estimation of Schüssler Fiorenza herself of economic “liberationist” content already in the Bible. Marxists and
other secular advocates of economic justice have long suggested that, for Christian Scripture at least, the biblical message is not material liberation of the dispossessed but rather their relative placation, perhaps with the
promise of future reward.15 Granted, Luke paints a picture of the early Christian communities in Acts 2:44-45
that would be the envy of any utopian socialist commune, but one would be hard pressed to build a case for the
eradication of poverty in this world based on Scripture alone. Indeed, arguably few if any have ever tried. Since
the first centuries of Christianity, the message derived from the canon has not been that the kingdom of God
on earth somehow entails distributive justice in this world but rather that “redemptive almsgiving” will mollify
the poor while guaranteeing spiritual salvation for the well-off (“almsgiving will buy paradise for as little as you
want,” promises John Chrysostom in a sermon on Lazarus and the rich man—Luke 16:19-31—circa 388 A.D16). By
the middle ages and the rise of the mendicant religious orders such as the Dominicans and the Franciscans, almsgiving would become institutionally inextricable from the exaltation of “voluntary poverty,” diluting the earlier
message that involuntary destitution was cause for spiritual redemption. Interest in real poverty was decimated
while those of ample means who could emulate it became the models of spiritual enlightenment.17 Liberation
theology may well find its inspiration in Scripture, but it is difficult to see how Scripture alone would motivate
the liberation of the economically oppressed in this world.
VI.
Perhaps the greatest obstacle to finding a prima facie “feminist” reading of Scripture—in the New Testament,
at least—is what we might call the recursively anti-feminist nature of the text: we cannot now and may never
fully appreciate just how much Scripture is already the result of attempts to subjugate women and put them in
their place. It is conceivable that the early church was rife with disputes about the proper role of women and,
more importantly, that the eventual codification of Jesus’ life and ministry in the canonical gospels and other
New Testament writings would depict those disputes in such a way as to suggest there never was a dispute at
all. The male “victors” of these struggles, in other words, would provide the texts that we today call “The Bible,”
and what we read and analyze may have already been read, analyzed, redacted, and filtered so as to mute the
fact that these were once what we describe in modern academic parlance as “contested discourses.” Christian
(if not all) Scripture, in short, may well have been handed to us disarmed and defused—“coded” in such a way
as to have us believe that women have always fared quite well, and sanitized of anything that might suggest
otherwise.
An example may help; Luke 10:38-42 offers us a telling one. It is a short pericope that has earned a place in
popular lore (many non-Christians would recognize the story, we might speculate) largely because it both en15 See, e.g., F.E. Deist, “How Does a Marxist Read the Bible,” in Liberation Theology and the Bible, ed. Pieter G.R. de Villiers (Pretoria: University of
South Africa, 1987), 15-30.
16 John Chrysostom, On Wealth and Poverty, ed. Catharine P. Roth (Crestwood, NJ: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1985).
17 See Kenneth Baxter Wolf, The Poverty of Riches: St. Francis of Assisi Reconsidered (New York: Oxford University Press, Incorporated, 2005), especially Chapter Three.
8
dorses and seemingly confounds our modern stereotypes of gender relations. Here is how it appears in the New
Revised Standard Version:
(38) Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha
welcomed him into her home. (39) She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. (40) But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him
and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her
then to help me.” (41) But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted
by many things; (42) there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not
be taken away from her.”
If much of sacred Scripture is marked by the remoteness of the narrative from everyday life in the modern era—
few of us, for example, are compelled to walk to a well outside of town to fetch the water we will consume for
the day, much less squeeze the stoning of adulterers into our social calendars—this short tale of Martha and
Mary in Luke is one where we might immediately glom onto the timelessness of it, given our enduring stereotypes regarding women and domestic work. While it has been no less the object of standard biblical exegesis
and analysis,18 it has taken on almost a mythical role in what Loveday Alexander describes as “popular exegesis”: those biblical memories reinforced by an ongoing process of preaching, teaching, and retelling “largely
untouched by academic exegesis.”19 When it comes to Martha and Mary in Luke (less so in the Gospel of John,
where they are given a definite geographical location and an ailing brother), seemingly everyone has an opinion,
and it probably involves pitting the two sisters against each other and taking sides. Jesus does, it would appear,
and his chiding of Martha for her fretting over her “many tasks” is routinely taken for an exaltation of the placid
sister Mary soaking up the words of the Nazarene.
Pitting one sister against the other as abstract representations of different “ideal types” has indeed been a traditional interpretation of the passage, and it lends credence to the notion that the Lucan tradition (the story is
unique to this Gospel) was more interested in conveying a particular normative point than in relating an episode
in the life of the historical Jesus. Our modern sensibilities may well find the suggestion agreeable: Martha’s
words and actions seem to stand for the “active life,” or “justification by works,” or even the fastidious adherence
to propriety that Christians have often attributed to Judaism; Mary, on the other hand, seems a perfect embodiment for “contemplation,” “justification by faith,” and the putative simplicity of “Christianity.”20
If Jesus is to take sides between the two sisters, it seems, so must we, and even those with feminist leanings
have held conflicting views over the message we are to take from Luke 10:38-42. A superficial reading would suggest that the sort of domestic labor traditionally associated with women (Martha’s) is being denigrated by Jesus
himself. Yet in doing so, Jesus could be perceived as elevating the status of Mary to that of a rabbinical student,
affording her a role that would, we might believe, be rare for women in Hellenist culture. Such a reading of Jesus’
intentions would likely be missing the mark, however. For one thing, we know that Jesus would not have been all
that subversive in openly teaching a woman; Barbara Reid, among others, has noted that formal education for
18 See, e.g., Joseph A Fitzmyer, The Gospel According to Luke (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1985), 891-895.
19 Loveday C. Alexander, “Sisters in Adversity: Retelling Martha’s Story,” in A Feminist Companion to Luke, ed. Amy-Jill Levine (Cleveland, OH: Pilgrim
Press, 2004), 197-198. Alexander notes that the passage provides routine opportunity for priests and pastors to look down from the pulpit and
suggest “we all know how women do fuss” (199).
20 See Jane D. Schaberg and Sharon H. Ringe, “Gospel of Luke,” in Women’s Bible Commentary, eds. Carol A Newsom, Sharon H Ringe, and Jacqueline
E Lapsley (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2012), 507. F. Scott Spencer takes up the “quarreling sisters” narrative but situates it in the
context of other biblical narratives featuring women placed in contradictory roles with each other, often brokered by a male character. See Spencer’s Salty Wives, Spirited Mothers, and Savvy Widows: Capable Women of Purpose and Persistence in Luke’s Gospel (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans,
2012).
9
women was already becoming widely accepted in Hellenistic circles, especially among elite women.21 Moreover,
Mary is not exactly the perfect picture of the thinking, vocal, active scholar in this scenario, despite her posture
and position of the typical student. A number of feminist commentators have noted that Mary’s docility in the
whole affair (she utters not a word) paints a fairly negative picture of women’s roles that bears little resemblance
to images of male students in Scripture and fosters the stereotype that, even when learning, women are to sit
patiently and listen to men pontificate. As Kathleen Corley has suggested, a far more “radical” stance from Jesus
would not have him situating Mary at his feet, hanging on his every word, but rather reclining with him at table
and engaging in disputation.22
We thus bring baggage to the interpretation of this passage—feminist and non-feminist alike—and that baggage
determines how we will read or hear it. We may not notice unless our attention is drawn to it by scripture scholars that Jesus’ concern is not primarily with the tasks Martha is absorbed in but with her anxiety over them. We
may not realize, unless enlightened by someone who speaks the Koine Greek of the original parchments, that
there is no food whatsoever mentioned in the short passage, even though scholars for centuries have suggested
that Jesus is telling Martha that one or a few dishes will suffice for her meal preparations. It requires familiarity with the other scriptural uses of diakonian to note that what Martha is engaged in is not necessarily routine
hostess duties but ministerial service of a more substantial sort.
This is precisely what Schüssler Fiorenza has argued, and it changes our perceptions of the narrative of Luke
10:38-42 entirely.23 She notes that Martha’s use of the appellation kyrios (“Lord”) for Jesus in verse 40 would
not likely be invoked in the simple retelling of events in the ministry of Jesus, since this is a post-resurrection understanding of Jesus as the Christ. The episode, in fact, Schüssler Fiorenza posits, is probably not even an event
in the life of Jesus but rather in the life of the early church—particularly, a depiction of the tensions we might
infer were present in the Lucan community over the role of women in liturgy. The “many tasks” in which Martha
is engaged are part of the “service” of the liturgy—the preparation of the Eucharistic meal. So too are Mary’s
“tasks” in the story: listening to the word of God. We know that the Luke author was well aware of the strains
involved in providing both of these aspects of liturgical practice; in Acts 6:2 we hear of “the twelve” concerned
that “waiting on tables” (as preparation of the Eucharist is so quaintly described in the NRSV) is forcing them
to neglect preaching the word of God—which, we are presumably to understand, is the more important of the
tasks of diakonia. Schüssler Fiorenza gathers from this that women, who apparently had ministerial roles in the
churches of the Lucan community, were being marginalized as mere caretakers of the table, while preaching the
Word was reserved for men and thus exalted as the more important liturgical task. Luke’s short tale of Martha
and Mary thus is indeed conveying a normative message about the “proper” roles of women, but our modern
association of women and domestic work clouds the recursively anti-feminist message of the text: it’s not the
superficial stereotypes that Jesus is being asked to reinforce in his chiding of Martha but the real roles of real
women in the early church that made use of such stories to keep women in their place.
VII.
No one, man or woman, liberal or conservative, Christian or atheist, is going to read Luke’s vignette of Martha
and Mary without aid of Schüssler Fiorenza or Reid and reach the conclusion that the passage is in fact a sort
of coded message to women struggling for recognition in their own parish communities. No one is going to find
in it, without a thorough knowledge of Koine Greek or the guidance of someone who has it, a story of women’s
21 Barbara E Reid, Choosing the Better Part?: Women in the Gospel of Luke (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1996), 151-152.
22 Kathleen E Corley, Women & the Historical Jesus: Feminist Myths of Christian Origins (Santa Rosa, CA: Polebridge Press, 2002), 60. See also Margaret Daphne Hampson, Theology and Feminism (Oxford, UK; Cambridge, MA, USA: B. Blackwell, 1990), 104, for a similar interpretation.
23 Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza, “A Feminist Critical Interpretation for Liberation: Martha and Mary: Luke 10:38-42,” Religion and Intellectual Life, 3:2
(Winter 1986):21-36. See also Reid, Choosing the Better Part, 151-162.
10
struggle for equity in the early church—one that women in the current church can appropriate for inspiration.
“Popular exegesis” has structured our reading of Luke 10:38-42 for centuries, ensuring that androcentric interpretations are not merely read into the text but also, as Schüssler Fiorenza notes, generated by the text; hence
the recursive, mirror-to-mirror nature of gender inequity that can arise from reading Scripture. So we must find
some assurance in the fact that scholars such as Schüssler Fiorenza and Reid are available to us to help us crack
the code and consider what might really be the author’s intent in a pericope such as this, and what it thus might
mean for us today.
The question, then, is “why now?” We can (must?) accept that a feminist reading of Scripture is not going to
come without a good deal of preparation and work, and that we have to be predisposed to digging beneath surface appearances of the narrative, and even beneath the excavations of the HCM practitioners who have already
examined the text, to reconstruct what might have been occurring in the author’s context that would prompt
him to portray things the way he did. But we ask: if sacred Scripture is the divine word of God revealed, why did
it take 1900 years for us to derive an arguably better picture of what might be transpiring in Luke 10:38-42?
Three responses to the question present themselves. The first and perhaps most straightforward is offered by
Schüssler Fiorenza herself: the hermeneutic of proclamation that should accompany our hermeneutic of suspicion “must insist that we do not accord to such a patriarchal text divine authority and proclaim it as the word
of God.”24 This is not to suggest that we simply cherry-pick those passages from Scripture that comport to our
worldview, declare this the divinely inspired content, and discount the rest as a “product of its time,” though
such an approach is not without precedence among Christians. It is merely to acknowledge that time has seasoned our sense of scriptural revelation, and we can be more judicious than our predecessors in approaching
canonical texts. Still, such an answer may strike the ears of those otherwise potentially sympathetic to the
feminist cause as a compromise of their faith, and may be limited in its pastoral application among all but the
most highly experienced scripture scholars who are trained to find the divine presence of God in texts they are
examining critically.
A second possible response might be more pastorally comforting. We might suggest that some sort of divine
accommodation is at work in Scripture, and that God’s self-revelation somehow accommodates its audience according to their circumstances and capacities. The concept derives from John Calvin but arguably can be useful
in other Christian circles, including those of Catholics. Much like we attempt to break an infant’s habit of exploring the wall socket not with an excursus on the nature of electricity but rather with a firm slap on the hand, the
theory goes, God suits God’s message to us according to our ability to comprehend it. This ability changes over
time (ideally in the direction of improvement) and across cultures, so it would be reasonable to infer that revelation as it was manifest 2000 years ago in the aftermath of what is for Christians the ultimate revelation—the
birth, ministry, death, and resurrection of Christ—might be looked upon differently today, and that this very
difference in our ability to interpret the stories told in the past is itself revelation. This “divine accommodation”
account holds a great deal of appeal, though in a less constricted context outside of the aims of this discussion,
we might be drawn to explore particular misgivings it would hold for feminists.
A third response to the “why now?” question, one that I believe holds a great deal of promise, derives from the
Marxist tradition and may in fact help to explain the emergence of liberation theology in the past century as well
as the perception (discussed earlier) that the liberation of the poor is a message carried by Scripture even at the
level of “popular exegesis.” Marxism—a.k.a. historical materialism, as Marx referred to his perspective—has a
correspondingly materialist account of its own origins that suggests why we would not expect to find the Jesus
of Scripture calling for a seizure of the means of production in the name of the associated workers. One of the
24 Schüssler Fiorenza, “A Feminist Critical Interpretation,” 32-33.
11
principle merits of Marxism as an account of human history is that it can situate itself; it can tell us plausibly why
Marxism as a theory emerged only when it did amid the urban squalor of early industrial capitalism rather than
amid feudal aristocracy or agrarian Phoenicia. It is only with the ripening of conditions the theory itself would
anticipate that that the theory itself is born: Marxism accounts for its own origins. Perhaps no one has summarized this crucial element of historical materialist thought as eloquently as the Hungarian Marxist György Lukács:
It is therefore no accident—and indeed it could hardly be otherwise when we are concerned with
real truths about society—that historical materialism evolved into a scientific method around the
middle of the nineteenth century. It is not the result of chance that social truths are always found
when the soul of an age is revealed in them; the age in which the reality corresponding to the
method becomes incarnate. For, as we have already explained, historical materialism is simply the
self-knowledge of capitalist society.25
Feminists are not, of course, lining up to claim a similar materialist origin for the second-wave feminism spawned
in the 1960s, much less for feminist biblical criticism.26 If, however, it is conceivable that our modern Catholic
concern for economic justice is in part a product of real political movements and the confluence of historical conditions outside of the church, we might wonder too whether the evolving feminist movement and the eventual
liberation of women from oppression must be premised upon material, political struggle as much as scriptural
inspiration. We can charitably read this as less a denial of God’s revelation or God’s activity in our lives than the
concession that, to fully understand this revelation and to realize this divine activity, we must ourselves act cooperatively and with great effort to alter the conditions of this world. The oppressed who inhabit it, we believe,
already receive God’s grace without having to merit it; what they do merit is an open, prayerful ear to their political struggles from those of us who profit from their oppression. If this isn’t already informing our every reading
of God’s word, then perhaps it should.
25 György Lukács, History and Class Consciousness: Studies in Marxist Dialectics (London: Merlin Press, 1971), 231.
26 Socialist and Marxist feminists have attempted this, but their work is thought largely to explain the oppression of women only under circumstances
of economic exploitation and thus incomplete when it comes to isolating the oppression of women as a class in itself. One notable exception is
the work of Isaac Balbus, based on the writings of Dorothy Dinnerstein, which attempts a materialist account of the rise of second-wave feminism
based on changes not in the mode of production but rather in the post-WWII changes in the mode of child-rearing that Balbus painstakingly
recounts. See Isaac D Balbus, Marxism and Domination: A Neo-Hegelian, Feminist, Psychoanalytic Theory of Sexual, Political, and Technological
Liberation (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1982).
12
Article
Toward an Inclusivist Constitutional Faith:
Comparative Theology and the U.S. Supreme
Court’s Foreign Law Debate
by William Gerard Godwin1
A
s a lawyer and emerging theologian, I have come to appreciate the interdisciplinary conversation that
is possible—and almost obligatory—between theology and law. They are importantly different but in
meaningful ways they share a methodological concern for interpretation. They are both faced with a
similar way of thinking about and responding to texts and controversies, within a comprehensive narrative that
projects how the world ought to be and offers a path to an enlightened existence in a world filled with options.
The lawyer and the theologian both ask in their own way: In light of our texts (written and oral-aural), our communal traditions (national and ecclesiological), and the present questions facing our constituencies (citizens and
observants), how ought we to do theology or practice law? Moving beyond the sacred/secular bifurcations that
compartmentalize and limit opportunities for valuable interdisciplinary insights, I am compelled to put these two
fields into a dialogue. In this essay, I attempt to show that in facing similar hermeneutical challenges, the field of
comparative law (specifically, U.S. courts’ use of foreign courts’ laws) can gain valuable insights from comparative theology. 1
Before going any further, two definitions are important for this kind of interdisciplinary enterprise. Comparative
law is simply the study of similarities and differences between and among different legal systems. The following
is an example of how this process plays out: Country A and B, often, but not always, have sufficiently similar legal
systems or political philosophies. Country A observes how its law is like or not like Country B’s law. The similarity
or difference is sometimes noted in judicial opinions to support a particular interpretation of Country A’s law.
Comparative theology, on the other hand, has a much more nuanced meaning because it is not merely about
comparing and contrasting A with B to support a particular outcome. Comparative theology demands being
grounded faithfully in A and crossing over to learn deeply about B so that A is enriched and enhanced. Harvard
Divinity School Professor Francis Clooney elegantly defines this comparative theology that he, along with theologians like Paul Knitter and James Fredericks, who I will also consider, are pioneering:
Comparative theology—comparative and theological beginning to end—marks acts of faith seeking understanding which are rooted in a particular faith tradition but which, from that foundation,
venture into learning from one or more other faith traditions. This learning is sought for the sake of
1 William Garard Godwin has an A.B. in Sociology from Georgetown University, a J.D. from the University of Chicago Law School, and a M.A. from
Chicago Theological Seminary. Godwin was a visiting student at CTU in 2014 and is an Educational Partnerships Consultant and Visual Artist. Godwin is generally interested in the intersection of American law, religion, and politics.
13
fresh theological insights that are indebted to the newly encountered tradition/s as well as the home
tradition.2
In US society, judges are charged with interpreting and expressing what the law is as issues arise. Comparative
theology offers a comparative methodology whereby judges can be faithful to their home tradition but open to
learning from the experiences of other nations. Engaging in comparative law through the methodological insights of comparative theology can move our justice system toward an inclusivist constitutional faith. I contend
that comparative theology offers a framework to better think about, justify, and do comparative law. The U.S.
Supreme Court’s debate over whether foreign law should be consulted or cited in U.S. court decisions provides
a useful case study to explore comparative theology’s potential methodological contribution to comparative law.
The Supreme Court’s Foreign Law Debate
Over the past decade, a significant debate has emerged about the use and citation of foreign legal precedents to
help resolve, explain, and shed light on legal issues facing U.S. courts. This issue has played itself out particularly
strongly in the United States Supreme Court, where there are two highly oppositional sides to this debate, clearly opposing or clearly supporting the practice. I believe there is an important, inclusivist, middle ground that
is relevant not only in theology but also law. It is of no small importance that this issue has been most fiercely
debated when the Court has faced socially controversial issues like the death penalty and gay marriage: issues
where the religious in the United States are also highly divided and equally in search for workable solutions that
preserve traditions but maintain liberty, equality and justice. When our basic sense of right and wrong in search
of the just solution has come before our nation’s highest Court foreign law has often been invoked.
The so-called Internationalists on the Court (including Justices Ruth Ginsburg, Sandra Day O’Connor, Stephen
Breyer, and Anthony Kennedy) have embraced foreign law, usually, in ways that identify how other nations have
reached progressive decisions where liberty, equality, and justice are expanded for the least advantaged: the
victim of anti-gay rights laws or pro-death penalty laws. When faced with the language of the United States
Constitution—our nation’s sacred text—a particular legal or policy option, and an affected public, these internationalist justices have invoked foreign law to the dismay of other justices. These include Justices Antonin Scalia,
Clarence Thomas, Samuel Alito, and John Roberts who align on the other side of this debate. The latter cadre of
justices are known as constitutional nationalists—who have a particular disdain for the appearance of foreign
law citations in the legal opinions of federal courts. In terms of deciding controversies made in America, these
justices are the preservers of a constitutional faith having little to no interest in mining the texts and interpretive
decisions of similar Western, Democratic republics—or other countries—that have faced similar constitutional
questions.
The divide between internationalists and constitutional nationalists plays out in the larger society—no less so
than by representatives and senators in Congress. Over the past decade, Supreme Court Justice nominees’ position on the use of foreign law has almost reached the status of a litmus test for surveying whether a justice is fit
to serve (and in the minds of constitutional nationalists: sufficiently loyal—read: faithful—to the U.S. Constitution, which they take an oath to uphold.). Even beyond the highly confrontational nomination hearings, sitting
Justices who have cited foreign sources in their opinions have been chided in the media. In an editorial whose
title tells it all, “We need to keep foreign law out of U.S. courts,” former Rep. Sandy Adams (R-FL), wrote: “Our
Constitution laid the foundation for our nation’s judicial system, and referencing or using foreign law in American
courts will lead to its erosion. Each case that cites foreign law is another opportunity to set precedent and for the
2 Francis Clooney, Comparative Theology: Deep Learning Across Religious Borders (West Sussex: Wiley-Blackwell, 2010), 10.
14
Constitution to be challenged or overrun.” Not content with merely a public editorial but determined to stop
thisprocess legislatively, Rep. Adams continued,
That is why I have introduced legislation to protect our Constitution and federal court systems from
this type of practice. My two-page bill, H.R. 973, simply states that “in any court created by or under
Article III of the Constitution of the United States, no justice, judge, or other judicial official shall decide any issue in a case before that court in whole or in part on the authority of foreign law, except
to the extent the Constitution or an Act of Congress requires the consideration of that foreign law.”
Her conclusion illuminates one of the key issues that really is exorcised in this debate: the question
of American exceptionalism. Rep. Adams resolutely declares, “We must remember that we have an
American judicial system in place for a reason; it is based off of our country’s rich history and it is
intentionally unique to our great nation. As we move forward as a country, we must work to protect
it).3
From the perspective of U.S. Constitutional history, the irony in all of this is that “fortunately, it is not necessary
to recount the full history of Supreme Court citations to foreign authority at length: that task has already been
undertaken by others. Recently, Steven G. Calabresi and Stephanie Dotson Zimdahl coauthored a 164-page law
review article that surveys the Supreme Court’s use of foreign authority since 1793.”4 This practice is not at
all new, but the aggressive response in opposition to it could reasonably be fueled more by the subject of the
prominent cases where critics have railed against the use of foreign law: homosexuality and the death penalty.
Notwithstanding the length of this practice, constitutional nationalists have raised reasonable critiques, which
could equally be leveled against comparative theology.
Why Compare Law and Religion?
For me, the worlds of law and religion collide when I consider the variety of methodological models available
for wrestling with the intersection of law and religion for doing theology (contextual, orthodox, liberation, neoAugustinian, etc.) as well as the myriad of ways to practice law (originalism, textualism, critical theory, economic
analysis, casuistry, etc.). Whether one is talking about law or religion, one is encountering a (1) long and storied
tradition that (2) is filled with symbols and multiple meanings that are (3) fervently believed in and relied upon
by individuals and communities to bring order and resolve to the human experience in society. In both cases, the
use of sacred texts are often but not always a foundational element of communal understanding and the reality
of globalization has made the foreign much more familiar and readily accessible.
The prevalence of texts and their multiple interpretive models in law and religion provide an interesting framework for studying hermeneutics. In his book, Interpreting the Bible & the Constitution, the late Professor Jaroslav
Pelikan precisely captures how both the Constitution and the Bible function in society as “normative scripture,”
observing that “both texts are centuries old by now, whether two or twenty, and both are ‘venerable’ and even
venerated and enshrined.”5 Following that line of analysis, Pelikan writes,
the Bible was taken to be ‘profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work’ (2 Tim 3.16-17);
and the Constitution was likewise, in a description by Chief Justice John Marshall that was to become
3 Sandy Adams, “We Need to Keep Foreign Law Out of U.S. Courts,” The Daily Caller. http://dailycaller.com/2011/03/30/we-need-to-keep-foreignlaw-out-of-u-s-courts/ (accessed May 22, 2014).
4 Daniel A. Farber, “The Supreme Court, the Law of Nations, and Citations of Foreign Law: The Lessons of History,” 95 Cal. L. Rev. 1335 (2007), 1352.
5 Jaroslav Pelikan, Interpreting the Bible and the Constitution (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004), 7.
15
axiomatic for the Supreme Court ever after, “intended to endure for ages to come, and consequently, to be adapted to the various crises of human affairs.”
The sacredness of the Bible and the Constitution, as the most prominent, though not in the case of religion,
exclusive texts of American law and religion have no meaning without a body of believers who subscribe to the
authority of these texts. Invoking the importance of community, Pelikan continues his comparison, writing, “For
although the historical sources of laws and of doctrines have been many and varied, each of these texts has been
adopted by its community as its norm, in the expectation that in those ‘ages to come,’ with all their ‘various crises of human affairs,’ it would continue to be applicable to all kinds of crises and needs…”6
These texts, as well as their followers and interpreters, do not exist in silos. Lawyers and theologians have historically encountered and been influenced by globalization and human diversity. That diversity is powerfully
intensified in today’s globalized, interconnected, and quickly accessible world with a 24-hr news cycle and the
seemingly limitless ability to know what is going on anywhere in the world at anytime. How practitioners in law
and religion interpret their texts, therefore, is in no way separated from how they internalize and react to the
unavoidability of diversity, and more specifically, pluralism. For Francis Clooney, the very “context for today’s
comparative theology is growing religious diversity”, both that which is around us but, also and more impactful,
the diversity within us, which “not only envelops us, it works on us, gets inside us; if we are paying attention, we
see that attentiveness to other religions affects even how we experience, think through, and practice our own
religion…To make sense of their own faith lives, individuals have to make choices regarding how to form and balance their religious commitments.”7
In a world where we are almost all—religious and non-religious—involuntarily engaged in comparative theology
by mere existence, the religious other is no longer a myth, a freak of nature, or exemplar of the exotic: he or
she is a human being, our neighbor, professor, doctor, employer, and sometimes spouse. If, as Clooney asserts,
diversity has catapulted the need for and growth of comparative theology, diversity has played a key role in the
autobiographies of some of comparative theology’s most noted thinkers. For example, Clooney observes how his
path to comparative theology “started in Kathmandu” where as a Jesuit he taught English and moral science and
in so doing his “Hindu and Buddhist students taught [him] much about how to think, act, and love religiously”,
teaching him “how faith makes possible, even demands, that we learn deeply from our religious neighbors.”8
Paul Knitter notes in his book’s preface that of the people he should thank for providing helpful feedback on his
manuscript: “at the top of this list is my wife…who was a Catholic Christian when we married twenty-five years
ago but has since found a Buddhist path to be more clear and comfortable.”9 And, in James Fredericks’ effort to
promote inter-religious dialogue, he has personally taken on the importance of not merely writing about different religious traditions through textual analysis, but more practically and directly “doing theology in conversation with the other traditions.”10 Indeed, for Fredericks, comparative theology is at its core “critical reflection on
the praxis of inter-religious dialogue” and more generally theology, itself, is “critical reflection on praxis done in
service to a specific religious community.”11
Like Clooney, Knitter, and Fredericks, American judges do not exist in social or jurisprudential isolation; they influence and are influenced by their fellow judges at home and abroad. Similar to the international councils and
6 Pelikan, Bible and Constitution, 8.
7 Clooney, Comparative Theology, 4-7.
9 Paul Knitter, Without Buddha I Could Not Be A Christian (London: Oneworld Publications, 2013), xv-xvi.
10James Fredericks, Buddhists and Christians: Through Comparative Theology to Solidarity (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 2004), 109.
11 Fredericks, Buddhists and Christians, 97.
16
inter-religious dialogues that religious organizations have participated in from time immemorial, Law Professor
Daniel Farber has observed:
Internationalists also view transnational citation as a predictable incident of globalization, particularly given ready access to foreign law electronically. As in other fields, international contacts between
judges are now much more frequent than in the past. As Justice Kennedy stated in an interview on
the subject: “It really began with the Holocaust, when international law started to concern itself
with how nations treated their own citizens.... So you had the beginnings of things like the European
Court of Human Rights. They became the new kids on the block, but no one really knew what they
did. Gradually, their work started to become known around the world. Then you started to have the
formal exchanges of judges…And then you have informal exchanges, like in Salzburg. You can’t help
being influenced by what you see and what you hear.”12
The influence that Justice Kennedy discusses is real, tangible, and inescapable in today’s environment. Ignorance of the other and her way of life, not only socially and politically, but also legally, requires a kind of social
isolation that is not only impossible for the modern judge but anti-intellectual and irresponsible.
Learning Across Borders
When I began to study the history of comparative theology and read examples of comparative theological exercises written by mainly Catholic Christian theologians who were also specialists or novices interested in the
comparative study of other religions (especially Buddhism, Hinduism and Islam), I put on my lawyer hat and
recalled American courts’ debate over the use and citation of foreign law in legal opinions to help resolve U.S.
legal issues. In my study of comparative theology and the U.S. Supreme Court’s debate about whether foreign
law should be cited in the Court’s opinions (essentially an exercise in transnationalism or comparative law), I was
struck by the contrasting views of two Catholic Christians: one, a Supreme Court Justice; the other, a theologian
and professor:
My conversation with Buddhism has enabled me to do what every theologian must do professionally
and what every Christian must do personally—that is, to understand and live our Christian beliefs in
such a way that these beliefs are both consistent with and a challenge for the world in which we live.
Buddhism has enabled me to make sense of my Christian faith so that I can maintain my intellectual
integrity and affirm what I see as true and good in my culture; but at the same time, it has aided me
to carry out my prophetic-religious responsibility and challenge what I see as false and harmful in
my culture. Right now, as I look back over my life, I can’t image being a Christian and a theologian
without this engagement with Buddhism. And thus, the title of this book: Without Buddha I Could
not be a Christian. Though the wording is perhaps provocative, it is definitely true.13
I don’t know what it means to express confidence that judges will do what they ought to do, after
having read the foreign law. My problem is I don’t know what they ought to do. What is it that they
ought to do? You have to ask yourselves, Why is it that foreign law would be relevant to what an
American judge does when he interprets—interprets, not writes—I mean, the Founders used a lot
of foreign law. If you read the Federalist Papers, it’s full of discussions of the Swiss system, German
system. It’s full of that. It is very useful in devising a constitution. But why is it useful in interpreting
one? Now, my theory of what I do when I interpret the American Constitution is I try to understand
what it meant, what was understood by the society to mean when it was adopted. And I don’t think
12 Farber. “The Supreme Court,” 1342.
13 Knitter, Without Buddha, xii-xiii.
17
it changes since then. Now, obviously if you have that philosophy—which, by the way, used to be
orthodoxy until about 60 years ago—every judge would tell you that’s what we do. If you have that
philosophy, obviously foreign law is irrelevant with one exception: Old English law, because phrases
like “due process,” the “right of confrontation” and things of that sort were all taken from English
law. So the reality is I use foreign law more than anybody on the Court. But it’s all old English law.
All right, if you have that theory, you can understand why foreign law is irrelevant. So he will never
convert me.14
Paul Knitter, a Catholic Christian theologian in seeking to understand (to interpret) the meaning of his Christian
faith has found Buddhism to be an essential interlocutor. Justice Antonin Scalia, a Supreme Court Justice, in seeking to understand (to interpret) the meaning of the U.S. Constitution finds no such essential use for pursuing foreign or comparative law sources to enlighten his understanding of the U.S. Constitution, even while noting that
though German and Swiss systems aided the nation’s founders in devising its Constitution, he need not now turn
to them to understand its meaning. No doubt, as I discuss below, there are some important differences between
the comparative theologian and the comparative lawyer: the theologian has much greater creativity and writes
without the burden of creating binding precedent that decides the merits of legal questions. Notwithstanding
that difference, while judges may cite foreign law in their opinions, it is clear, as Justice Stephen Breyer pointed
out in the aforementioned debate over the issue with Justice Scalia: When he and other judges cite foreign law
it “doesn’t bind us.”15
Defending his approval of learning across legal borders to find solutions and gain important insight into U.S. issues, Justice Breyer explains further why he engages in comparative law:
I am at a seminar sort of like this. And suddenly, the member of Congress… started to say how terrible it was to use foreign law in decisions. And I said, ‘Well, I guess, Congressman, that’s aimed at
me.’ (Laughter.) And I said, ‘Well, let me tell you.’…These are human beings, more and more, called
judges…who have problems that often, more and more, are similar to our own. They’re dealing with
this certain text, texts that more and more protect basic human rights. Their societies more and
more have become democratic, and they’re faced not with things that should be obvious—should
we stop torture or whatever—they’re faced with some of the really difficult ones where there’s a
lot to be said on both sides. Hard to decide. I said, ‘If here I have a human being called a judge in a
different country dealing with a similar problem, why don’t I read what he says if it’s similar enough?
Maybe I’ll learn something.’ To which the congressman said, ‘Fine. Read it. Just don’t cite it.’ (Laughter.) I thought, ‘All right.’16
All of what Justice Breyer said above is instructive and if read carefully sounds similar to Paul Knitter’s statement
above. One could reasonably re-word Breyer’s statement with the following: “These are human beings, more
and more, called Buddhists, who have problems that often, more and more, are similar to our own…If here I have
a Buddhist who believes in a different religion dealing with a similar problem, why don’t I read what he says if it’s
similar enough?” The Congressman’s response, “Fine. Read it. Just don’t cite it,” reveals the main problem that
both comparative law and comparative theology face: exceptionalism. Given that once we sentient beings have
read something we are forever affected by that experience; what we have read will no doubt affect—even if only
to affirm or give us confidence for—our ultimate opinion which may highlight citations from our own traditions
14 U.S. Association of Constitutional Law Discussion, “Constitutional Relevance of Foreign Court Decisions,” http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/
news/1352357/posts(accessed May 22, 2014).
15 USACL, “Constitutional Relevance of Foreign Court Decisions.”
18
while evading the citation from a foreign tradition whose power and insight might add so much. Why do constitutional nationalists fear the citation of non-binding foreign law in U.S. court opinions? An exclusive faith in one
system or way of being tends to accompany a spirit of exceptionalism that paints anything different as deficient
and suspect. While unyielding faithfulness to the familiar is part of the answer, theologian Paul Knitter offers
students of comparative law a corollary to the well-known issue of American exceptionalism: Faithfulness in the
hybrid sense. I will take that up more closely below.
Before exploring more thoroughly the question of faithfulness in law and religion, it is important to return to the
arena of constitutional law to consider how everyday citizens, elected legislators, executives, courts, and judges
on state and federal courts and even the U.S. Supreme Court are essentially debating a question that has been
fairly well-developed, frequently written about and assumed in the sphere of religious studies and inter-religious
dialogue: Can one be a faithful member of a particular religion and simultaneously learn from another religious
tradition in ways that help one better understand questions and concepts grounded in one’s home religious
tradition?
Consider the following comparative theological example: Can a Christian theologian faced witha problem of
greed and indifference to human suffering and poverty in her congregation prepare a sermon (read: an opinion)
which explores Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount: “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths
and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where
moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there
your heart will be also.”17 And then, moving from the text of her faith tradition, juxtapose the familiar wisdom
of Jesus’ proclamation with the less familiar words of Buddha’s 2nd Noble Truth from his sermon on the 4 Noble
Truths: “And this, monks is the noble truth of the origination of dukkha (suffering): it is craving that makes for
further becoming—accompanied by passion and delight, relishing now here and now there—craving for sensual
pleasure, craving for becoming, craving for non-becoming .”18 Putting these texts into conversation, seeing how
each informs the other, looking for wisdom in a tradition outside of her home tradition, going deep into one
of the foundational truths of Buddhism vis-à-vis Jesus’ words; in doing all of this: Has this Christian theologian
become an unfaithful heretic? Can we imagine pastoral colleagues and parishioners who might question her
faith commitment by treating these texts (almost) equally, by turning to the foreign to illuminate the known? I
certainly could see a very similar critical response akin to what the Court’s constitutional nationalists have leveled against the Court’s internationalist justices. Faith matters.
Constitutional Faith
Sociologist Robert Bellah is perhaps best known for his work on what he called American Civil Religion where
he considered how the nation-state in many ways looks and functions like a religious body in its practices, ceremonies, traditions, and symbols. In that spirit, Professor Sanford in his book Constitutional Faith admits his concerns with defining Americanism in terms of constitutional fidelity, but acknowledges the relationship between
membership in the body-politic and faith in the law and its institutions. Levinson quotes Whittle Johnson: To the
question “‘What, then, does it mean to be an American?’” Johnson responded: “To be an American means to be
a member of the ‘covenanting community’ in which the commitment to freedom under law, having transcended
the ‘natural’ bonds of race, religion, and class, itself takes on transcendent importance. The central ‘covenant’
of the community, from this perspective, is the Constitution.”19 Levinson draws from the work of Irving Kristol,
17 Mt 6:19-21 (NIV)
18 “The Second Noble Truth: The Noble Truth of the Origin of Dukkha,” http://www.accesstoinsight.org/ptf/dhamma/sacca/sacca2/ (Accessed April
2, 2015).
19 Sanford Levinson, Constitutional Faith (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1988), 5.
19
symbolizing the comparative synergy of faith in law and religion. Adapting Johnson’s argument, Levinson writes,
Kristol “has recently cited the Constitution as part of the holy ‘trinity’ of the American Civil Religion, along with
the Declaration of Independence and the Flag. Pledging faith in the Constitution, therefore, presumably defines
one as a ‘good American,’ a full member of our political community.”20
Faith, a sense of belief in and loyalty to a normative framework, provides a useful way of thinking about how
both theology and law function for those subject to the actions of these disciplines: the theologian’s sermon, the
judge’s opinion. St. Anselm of Canterbury famously defined the very aim of theology as “faith in search of understanding.” Similarly, constitutional law is a system whose ultimate arbiters, the Justices of the U.S. Supreme
Court, are required to declare an oath of faith:
I, _______, do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the
United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to
the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion;
and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So
help me God (Emphasis added).
One could easily swap the phrase “Constitution of the United States” with, say, “The Roman Catholic
Church” without endangering the meaning of the statement in either context. Faith matters—in religion and law. There is a sense that our nation’s judges like a religious institution’s clergy must choose
whom they will serve, for in the words of Jesus in the gospels, “No one can serve two masters. Either
you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other .”21
So, the unnamed Congressman who asked Justice Breyer to stop citing foreign law, along with members of the U.S. Senate Judiciary Committee who most recently quizzed Justice Elena Kagan on her
view of whether foreign law should be used, are really asking: Are you (and, can you be) faithful?22
At the conclusion of his comparative theology between Christianity and Buddhism, Paul Knitter asks a similar, theological, question: Am I cheating? Am I being unfaithful? If Christ is exceptional—unique—in the purest
sense, then can one claim faith to both Christianity and Buddhism without dishonoring either or both of these
traditions; but most especially, one’s home tradition? After one has crossed over into a deep engagement with
the texts and traditions of the religious other, and then attempts to bring those insights, syncretically, into the
home tradition -- is this an unholy scenario where “religious people raised in one tradition end up willy-nilly,
in either diluting or shifting their religious commitments? They’re Christians having an affair.” In resolving this
question, Knitter embraces hybridization as natural, writing, “our religious self, like our cultural or social self,
is at its core and in its conduct a hybrid. That means that our religious identity is not purebred, it’s hybrid…It
takes shape through an ongoing process of standing in one place and stepping into other places, of forming a
sense of self and then expanding or correcting that sense as we meet other selves.” But this hybridity doesn’t
have to precipitate into a liminal space of relativism; one can be open to the diversity around and within but
still be faithful to the home faith because “being religious hybrids doesn’t mean that we don’t have an identity.
It doesn’t exclude that some relationships that form our identity have a primacy or greater influence on us over
others. Hybridity….doesn’t rule out monogamy.”23
20 Levinson, Constitutional Faith, 6.
21 Mt 6:24.
22Ruth Bader Ginsburg,. “Ginsburg on Kagan and Foreign Law.” Scotusblog. http://www.scotusblog.com/2010/07/ginsburg-on-kagan-and-foreignlaw/. Last (accessed May 22, 2014).
23 Knitter, Without Buddha, 214-215.
20
Knitter’s assertion and the rationale of the internationalists on the Supreme Court begs the question: Could
there be an Inclusivist Constitutional Faith: faithful to the texts, precedents, and traditions of U.S. Constitutional
law but simultaneously open to expanding our understanding of and critical reflection on those texts, precedents, and traditions from our global neighbors’ insights and experiences? Comparative theology offers such
an opportunity. The existence of faith commitments alongside the prevalence of religious diversity requires the
faithful—both constitutional and religious—to respond. Gavin D’Costa has outlined three well-known responses
in theological circles, which I shall briefly define here: Pluralism holds that “all religions are equal and valid paths
to the one divine reality and Christ is one revelation among many equally important revelations. Exclusivism
asserts that “only those who hear the gospel proclaimed and explicitly confess Christ are saved.” Inclusivism, a
sort of third or middle way, provides: “Christ is the normative revelation of God, although salvation is possible
outside of the explicit Christian church, but this salvation is always from Christ.”24
In thinking about the use of foreign law in interpreting the U.S. Constitution, the theological response of inclusivism is most useful and best mirrors the practice of internationalist judges, who, as we have already discussed,
can merely be persuaded or influenced by foreign law. They cannot hold it as binding precedent. Exclusivism
merely restates theologically the constitutional perspective of constitutional nationalists who wish to eschew
the practice altogether. Pluralism works better in theology than law because of one important difference between these fields: theologians can think and act (for the most part) boundlessly in their creative imagination in
seeking understanding. Judges, however, must decide matters with real people and organizations’ existence—
money and freedom—at stake within the confines of the rule of law. Constitutional inclusivism, then, continues
to hold that U.S. law is normative, it is our aim to which our faith is pledged. That said, we recognize that other
legal traditions and responses to phenomena can illuminate and help us better understand our own normative
positions, deepening our knowledge and widening our perspective: and hopefully, enhancing—not diminishing—our constitutional faith by the very process of comparison.
How Comparative Theology’s Method Enhances Comparative Law
Comparative theology is an inclusivist enterprise in the sense that the practitioner remains committed to and espouses a particular faith in one religious tradition. This works for law in that judges, as cited above, must pledge
their faith and allegiance to the United States and its Constitution. In so doing, they can be like Knitter: hybrids.
While some commentators have referred to judges who hold this view as internationalist, they are in my view
better described as constitutional inclusivists; that is, proponents of an inclusivist constitutional faith. In their
essence, internationalists align more closely with something that constitutional judges cannot be and highlights
what critics accuse them of being: pluralists. While the distinction is important, the point is not the label. The
important matter is seeing how comparative theology methodologically offers important insights for constitutional inclusivists. Together, Clooney and Fredericks provide four helpful insights which I will briefly outline here.
Particularity: A Focus on the Specific Comparison and the Close Reading
Clooney carefully and meticulously outlines his approach to comparative theology which has been foundational
in the development of what has been called the new comparative theology. That is, a comparative theology
pointing to new directions beyond botany like classifications of religious systems for the sake of classification
and ranking, without attention to bias toward the home tradition. Early comparitivists of the 19th century and
earlier were deeply engulfed with the large-scale, grand meta-narrative seeking to explain religion always and
24 Gavin D’Costa, “Theology of Religion,” in The Modern Theologians: An Introduction to Christian Theology Since 1918, eds. David F. Ford and Rachel
Muers ( Malden: Blackwell Publishing, 2005), 624.
21
already everywhere.25 Hence, it is no surprise that Clooney’s foundational methodological principle for doing
comparative theology centers around close, narrow, particular focus on specific texts from specifically and narrowly defined conceptions of the two traditions being compared.
Clooney, who compares Christianity and Hinduism, is careful to define autobiographically and theologically what
he means by Christianity as a Catholic, Jesuit priest and what he means by Hinduism, as a scholar and close observer. He defines the subjects. Following that same pattern, Clooney is careful to look not merely to the texts
that he is comparing, but to how those texts have evolved and been understood by their believing readers (the
commentaries) and to the other texts, concepts and histories to which the compared texts direct the reader.
Texts are not read alone, but always in context(s) (looking back, looking around, and looking forward) to gaina
more comprehensive understanding of a very specific narrative. This requires defining the field, with a close
and inter-textual reading of the texts within that field. The goal is not so much to understand religion, as such,
but much more so to grapple with the insights and challenges that are gained by comparing two or more specific
religious traditions.
The same methodological approach is possible for comparative law. Clooney’s approach, and perhaps any comparative approach, involves selection. Selection always carries some bias: why that text, that religion; why that
legal system, that legal issue? For every text and commentary that seems to help make a point within our own
tradition, perhaps, there are others (and overwhelmingly so) that point in the other direction. That is always a
possibility. Justice Scalia points out this frustration in his debate with Justice Breyer on the issue:
take our abortion jurisprudence, we are one of only six countries in the world that allows abortion on demand
at any time prior to viability. Should we change that because other countries feel differently? Or, maybe a more
pertinent question: Why haven’t we changed that, if indeed the court thinks we should use foreign law? Or do
we just use foreign law selectively? When it agrees with what, you know, what the justice would like the case to
say, you use the foreign law, and when it doesn’t agree you don’t use it. Thus, you know, we cited it in Lawrence,
the case on homosexual sodomy, we cited foreign law -- not all foreign law, just the foreign law of countries that
agreed with the disposition of the case. But we said not a whisper about foreign law in the series of abortion
cases.”26
I believe Scalia makes a relevant point that does not go without notice in comparative theology: judges should
define the field they’re operating in, noting the exceptions and explaining why a particular tradition is useful for
comparison: perhaps, a similarly situated demographic, a similar development in the law, a similar orientation
to Western cultural and political values; and/or the influence of the U.S. Constitution and American values more
generally on the development of foreign and international law (like the United Nations Declaration of Human
Rights). The field should be carefully defined. Courts should not merely cite foreign law, but they should go
deep into the text of the tradition they are comparing. Secondly, the citation of cases should explain how that
particular law has developed and how it stands in contrast to its global peers, and the judge, I think, should note
why alternative laws do not fit into the American tradition, which is reflected in the court’s ultimate decision on
an issue based on its interpretation of U.S. Constitutional law. The foreign law does not replace the U.S. law; it
should, at its best, complement such law.
22
Returning to the Home Tradition
For Clooney, the goal of comparative theology does not stop with useful insights, and, as stated above, is not interested in displacing the deeply held faith of the traditions we hold dear and to which we profess our belief and
loyalty. After comparativists have ventured deeply into the complexities of other nations’ laws and put those
laws in conversation with existing U.S. law, the constitutional inclusivist should demonstrate how the compared
traditions enrich, enhance, enlarge, or even challenge prevailing American law. It should show how the home
tradition is made better by its comparativist exploration, or by its constitutional inclusivism.
Reflection on Praxis
While Clooney focuses more on reading and thinking about how to compare texts, Fredericks is more inclined to
define the comparative theological space as the place where conversation and action (praxis) occur. Fredericks
calls this “reflection on praxis.” Judges and lawyers, like theologians and the religious in their various religious
traditions, encounter their peers in a variety of fora, conferences, academic exchanges and so on. Inter-religious
dialogue has been at the forefront of the practice of comparative theology; and in many ways, it seems to ignite
the kind of deeper engagement with texts that Clooney seems to prefer. U.S. courts’ citation of foreign law is
not merely a reason for xenophobic public outcry or suspicion of judicial intent; instead, lawyers and judges
can learn from the centuries of inter-religious dialogue where such dialogue is celebrated, solutions and agreements are embraced, and renewed understanding of the other in order to better understand the familiar are
welcomed. When courts turn to foreign law, there should be an invitation to increase dialogue around the issues
being discussed and debated between the compared legal systems. There should be a reflection on the legal
environment—the decisions, the implementations, the public reactions, and the learned experiences—in both
countries in ways that inform why the law is developing in such a way. I also believe law schools that are slowly
embracing comparative and international law as part of their required curricula can learn from seminaries and
divinity schools that have more swiftly embraced serious learning of religious traditions other than one’s own,
through required and strongly encouraged elective courses in inter-religious studies and dialogue toward completing degrees in professional ministry.
In framing inter-religious dialogue from the perspective of a Christian practice, Fredericks outlines how dialogue
becomes a Christian practice in the following three ways: Such dialogue (1) creates a concrete form of “the
church’s pilgrimage toward the Kingdom of God”; (2) reveals how non-Christians are not merely “supporting actors” in service to the Christian story; they too, have tremendous value to add in understanding the Truth toward
which the Church strives; and finally, (3) such “dialogue is a form of service to the world” wherein the Church
participates in and facilitates ways for all to better understand how together we can repair the world. In no small
way, law and religion are similar in the aforementioned three ways: Comparative law at its best creates real, tangible ways to step back and understand how a variety of systems wrestling with constitutions and controversies
are developing a path toward an ultimate sense of what justice looks like for society. Secondly, it reminds high
ego-prone democracies, like the United States, that other countries—many of whose precedents, as already acknowledged, helped develop our own system—have important contributions to make toward our understanding
of what justice looks like. This second principle brought out in such dialogue puts a check on the same kind of
exceptionalism that is found among the religious who strongly embrace exclusivism; or in the comparative law
sense, who demand what has been called a constitutional nationalist stance. Thirdly, judges from different jurisdictions encountering similar problems should be seen as serving, and complementing, one another—making
the way easier for fellow judges now and in the future seeking to traverse waters that other nations have already
passed. Why not learn from their experiences as we seek solutions for our own challenges?
23
Conclusion
This essay is only an initial attempt to put comparative law and comparative theology in dialogue; it is, I believe,
a solid framework to think more deeply and methodologically about the comparative method in general. But
more specifically, it is an invitation to consider how faith, whether in our systems of law or our systems of religious life, plays a significant role in guiding how we view the other, and how open we are to learning across the
imaginary borders we erect. Borders, which increasingly become less real and more obviously imagined as our
interconnectedness, from peoples to a human race, increases.
The noted comparative philologist, Friedrich Max Muller, approached the comparative methodology vis-à-vis
religion in his “Lectures on the Science of Religion.” Muller asked, “Why, then, should we hesitate to apply the
comparative method, which has produced much great results in other spheres of knowledge, to a study of religion?” Muller quoted Goethe’s paradox, “He who knows one language knows none,” equating it with religion,
stating,
There are thousands of people whose faith is such that it could move mountains, and who yet, if
they were asked what religion really is, would remain silent, or would speak of outward tokens
rather than of the inward nature…and if we will but listen attentively, we can hear in all religions a
groaning of the spirit, a struggle to conceive the inconceivable, to utter the unutterable, a longing
after the Infinite, a love of God.27
While comparative theology does not advance a meta-narrative to understand religion, Muller’s assertion in
relation to philology and then religion holds use for law: He who knows one law knows none. By looking to the
hopes and aspirations of various systems—similar to and even different than our own—we can better understand what law means. We need not fear the other; they are, as Fredericks indicates, fellow pilgrims in search
of the Truth. Constitutional nationalists, like religious exclusivists, should learn to appreciate the power of incorporating wisdom derived from diverse places into their own systems: we need to mold a constitutional faith of
inclusivism to reshape the debate over the use of foreign law in U.S. Constitutional interpretation.
27 Friedrich Max Muller Introduction to the Science of Religion (Oxford: Longmans, Green, and Co., 1882), 12-1413-14.
24
Article
The Birthing of Christ—The Mission of a Church in
Labor
by Jennifer Mertens1
T
he Church as “mother” has1 long characterized the Catholic tradition’s ecclesiological self-understanding.
Emerging from a scriptural inheritance which imaged the Church as bride2, ecclesial language gradually assumed a distinctive female, and then maternal, quality. By the third century, the metaphor of a “mother”
Church was already surfacing in dominant theological discourse. Cyprian of Carthage, for example, asserts, “You
cannot have God as your Father unless you have the Church for your Mother.”3 Paulinus of Nola describes a
Church that “receives the seed of the eternal Word, carries the peoples in her womb and gives birth to them.”4
Such figures contributed to a developing theological tradition in which the metaphor of motherhood formatively
shaped the Church’s self-understanding.
Centuries later, maternal descriptors for the Church continue to be employed. In Gaudium et Spes, the Second
Vatican Council embraces a Spirit-led “Mother Church” openly engaged with the modern world (GS, 43). Similar
language also appears in the Council’s writings on liturgical reform and the Church’s relationship with the People
of God (SC, 1; LG, 9-17).5 Still today, the metaphor of “mother” persists in post-conciliar ecclesiology. More recently, Pope Francis’ Evangelii Gaudium celebrates the Church as a “mother with an open heart” (EG, V). These
examples are but a few which point to a Catholic ecclesiological inheritance steeped in maternal presence.
Despite this rich history, extended theological reflection on the metaphor of “mother Church” remains intermittent, even largely absent. This absence occurs, notably, in the scant attention given to the actual journey into
motherhood itself. Whether as physical labor and/or psycho-spiritual unfolding, the birthing process involved
in motherhood remains an untapped, yet powerful, resource for Catholic ecclesiology.6 The following paper attempts to offer a preliminary exploration of the journey into motherhood and its implications for the mother
Church metaphor. Employing a feminist hermeneutic, it broadly examines the ecclesiological implications of the
Church as “birthing mother.” And while certain limits of this ecclesiology will be uncovered, unique possibilities
also emerge for envisioning her mission.
1 1Jennifer Mertens completed her Masters of Divinity from the Catholic Theological Union in 2014. She teaches religion at an all-girls’ Ursuline high
school in Cincinnati and is a Young Voices columnist for the National Catholic Reporter.
2 The image of a bride and bridegroom has been traditionally interpreted as the wedding of Christ and the Church. Cf. Mark 2:19, 2 Corinthians 11:24, or Ephesians 5:22-33 (New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition).
3 St. Cyprian, De Ecclesiae Catholicae Unitate 6: CCL 3, 253: “Habere iam non potest Deum patrem qui ecclesiam non habet matrem.”
4 St. Paulinus of Nola, Carmen 25, 171-172; CSEL 30, 243: “Inde manet mater aeterni semine verbi / concipiens populos et pariter pariens.”
5 For further examples of the Council’s use of maternal imagery see: Second Vatican Council, Dignitatis Humanae (1965), no.13.; Second Vatican
Council, Dei Verbum (1965), no. 21.; Second Vatican Council, Apostolicam Actuositatem (1965), no. 4.
6 Theological reflection on the feminine in Christian tradition has often emerged in a highly spiritualized form largely divorced from the embodied
female experience. This split likely contributed to the lack of attention given to the birthing process involved in motherhood, as the topic demands
a conscious healing of this dualism. For further exploration of this split, see: Rosemary Radford Ruether, “Mariology as Symbolic Ecclesiology: Repression or Liberation?,” Sexism and God-Talk: Toward a Feminist Theology (Boston: Beacon Press, 1983).
25
An Overview of the Church’s Mission
As theological discourse increasingly adopted language for the Church as “mother,” this development opened
new opportunities for articulating her mission. When examining the birthing mother Church, in particular, the
Church’s mission becomes no less than the labor to deliver Christ in the world. Pregnant with her mission—the
Christ—she has quickened already with the fullness of truth. Her flesh, then, is sacrament. As a “visible form
of invisible grace,”7 her body constitutes the tabernacle from within which Christ emerges on Earth. Like Mary,
this birthing mother is also the Theotokos—full and yet empty. In an utterly physical way, the cries and tears and
blood of a laboring Church initiate her kenotic self-emptying8 for the Christ.
Additionally, the woman in labor is paschal; her contractions ebb and flow in a Spirit-led cycle of surrender and
renewal. Just as the pregnant woman offers her body in a “paschal manner”9 for the life of her child, so too
does the Church offer herself as a vessel through which to “bring into being the liberating love of God, manifested in Christ.”10 Such is her mission. Essentially kerygmatic, this mission—indeed, the mother’s laboring flesh
itself—heralds the Christ child. In her proclamation, the woman’s laboring functions as a compelling locus for
congregational gathering11 and invites a renewed understanding of what it means to gather as ekklesia.
This mission powerfully embodies the dynamic ecclesiological vision of the Second Vatican Council. In contrast
to static, classicist interpretations of the Church as a “perfect society,”12 the image of a birthing mother reflects
a post-conciliar view of that gradual, organic journey along which the Church’s mission unfolds. Uniquely connected to a “pilgrim” ecclesiology, the Church-in-labor similarly emphasizes an ongoing movement towards the
“fullness of divine truth.”13 This fullness, however, cannot simply be contained in “dogmatic proposition[s]”14
or collections of information to be memorized by the faithful. Divine revelation is not limited to propositional
statements; it breaks out of human language and is animated into life through relationships of mutuality and
self-gift—those qualities of an essentially Trinitarian relationship.15 Here, by the power of the Spirit, revelation
pours from the Creator and into a child. It cries. The child cries to be nurtured, to be nursed, and to be loved
and encountered with one’s total being. The fleshy, primal connotations of this Trinitarian character of revelation guard against an “unhealthy divinization”16 of the Church. Revelation cannot be abstracted away from this
human life; always incarnate, it must be encountered in flesh and bone. At its core, this encounter supports
and further develops the “dialogic”17 view of Sacrament recovered by the Council. As a conceiving and laboring
woman, the Church answers the call to both offer and receive God’s dynamic self-gift of Love.
Fulfilling the Mission: The Labor Pangs of a Birthing Mother
Any ecclesiology of the Church as birthing mother must carefully attend to the pain of the labor demanded by
her mission. Indeed, the fullness of Christ can only emerge after the protracted “pain of childbirth”18 subsides.
7 Council of Trent, Roman Catechism (1566), part II.
8 Philippians 2:7.
9 Oscar Romero, “The Easter Church, First Pastoral Letter“ (1977), no 5.
10 Oscar Romero, “The Church, The Body of Christ in History, Second Pastoral Letter” (1977), no. 4.
11 See Avery Dulles’ treatment of congregational gathering in his examination of the Church as Herald in Avery Dulles, Models of the Church (New
York: Image, 1987), 75-80.
12 Leo XIII, Immortale Dei (1885), no. 27.
13 Dei Verbum, no. 7, 8.
14 Richard R. Gaillardetz, By What Authority? A Primer on Scripture, the Magisterium, and the Sense of the Faithful (Collegeville: Liturgical Press,
2003), 3.
15 Gaillardetz, Authority, 3-6.
16 Dulles, Models, 47.
18 Galatians 4:19-31.
26
Far from signaling cause for alarm or despair, the pangs of labor actually indicate the woman’s conversion to a
new identity. Although she mothered the child in her womb, she now prepares to mother that child delivered in
and for the world. In the Church, the “pain of childbirth” is experienced at both an individual and collective level.
The realization of her mission demands that full attention be given to both.
Birthing Pangs of the Individual Faithful
Christ emerges from the Church insofar as the Word is birthed within the hearts and minds of her people. Her
labor pangs reverberate within their joy and grief, love and suffering; Christ quickens in the fleshy messiness
of human life. Such quickening serves as invitation too; Christ is drawing each person into a lifelong journey of
interior conversion. While graced, the labor entailed by this journey can prove tremendously challenging and
painful. Beyond creedal assent or doctrinal orthodoxy, this labor challenges the faithful to release their individual egoic identities for union in Christ. As Paul testifies, “it is no longer I, but it is Christ who lives in me.”19
Such dying, then, is birthing too—a mysterious, paschal labor stretching from our own mother’s womb to our
rebirth in baptismal waters and beyond. A Church-in-labor thus needs midwives. She needs people attending
to her birthing, ministers coaxing forth the Word in one another. Here, at the birthing bed, the Church’s mission—Christ—emerges in the world. Ultimately, the Church is delivered from her pangs by those individuals with
courage enough to welcome the Word that becomes flesh20 both within and beyond them.
Birthing Pangs of the World
The labor of interior conversion constitutes one dimension of the Church’s mission. Such labor, however, is not
solitary; consciously or not, the individual’s journey is interwoven with the hopes and dreams and suffering of
a collective humanity. The birthing pangs which reverberate through a single life also expand across families,
cultures, nations, even the cosmos itself. A birthing mother Church must humbly claim the tremendous scope
of labor ahead. Lifting her own groans21 in solidarity with the cries of a vast creation, she labors towards justice,
mercy, and the “irruption”22 of God’s Kingdom on Earth. The Church’s offering of and with the world transforms
her into that “living sacrifice”23 gifted by God through Christ.
At the birthing bed, the individual faithful surrender their egoic identity to midwife Christ’s presence in themselves and one another. Here, too, communities are also in labor. Their pangs signal the dismantling of all structures which breed injustice, separation, and alienation from God, self, and neighbor. These structures of sin exist
both within and beyond the Church; the full emergence of Christ demands a radical conversion of both.
In a sense, such conversion is also “inversion”24—the reordering of injustice and concern for the poor as an essential condition of gospel fidelity. In a unique way, this “preferential option”25 must consciously extend not only
to tapeinos26 within society, but also to those marginalized within the Church community. Indeed, the Church
too is sinful; in order to awaken “justice in the world the church itself must first be just.”27 Christ’s very birthing
19 Galatians 2:20.
20 Cf. John 1:14.
21 Cf. Jeremiah 22:23, Micah 4:10, Romans 8:22-23
22 Gustavo Gutierrez, “The Option for the Poor Arises from Faith in Christ,” Theological Studies 70 (2009), 319.
23 Romans 12:1.
24 Term used by Gustavo Gutierrez in God of Life, applied in James B. Nickoloff, “Church of the Poor: The Ecclesiology of Gustavo Gutierrez” Theological Studies 54 (1993), 534.
25 Cf. Gutierrez, “Option for the Poor,” 319..
26 The Greek term meaning “lowly,” is being used in the sense of being humiliated or oppressed, and is applied to Mary in the Lukan infancy narrative.
Cf. Gustavo Gutierrez, God of Life (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1991), 180.
27 Mary E. Hines, “Community for Liberation: Church,” in Freeing Theology: The Essentials of Theology in Feminist Perspective, ed. Catherine Mowry
LaCugna (New York: Harper Collins, 1993), 167.
27
demands no less, regardless of “how uncomfortable that might be, or how much loss of face it might entail.”28
Thus, the birthing pangs which precipitate Christ’s Presence on Earth uniquely include the struggles of women,
single mothers, divorcees, the LGBTQ community and all others who seek full dignity in the eyes of the Institutional Church. The very intensity of our contemporary debates on these topics illustrates the scope and depth of
the labor gripping our Church today.
And so, Mother Church labors, heavy with the Christ child. Her contractions permeate the lives of her individual
faithful. As “the Word of God emerges within the whole Church,”29 these pangs expand into the fabric of the
people’s collective identities.30 In this labor and countless more, the Church’s mission is fulfilled insofar as the
people of God awaken to this call and claim their inheritance as co-creators of God’s Kingdom.
Fulfillment of the Mission: The Birth of the Christ
When will the “pain of childbirth”31 subside? When will the Church’s labor be complete? Even as “the whole
creation has been groaning”32 in anticipation of the Christ, Paul maintains that, ultimately, no one can predict
how long the birthing pangs may endure. The Parousia will arrive at an unexpected time, similar to the moment
in which those first “labor pains come upon a pregnant woman.”33
The “new creation”34 stirs in darkness. And yet, even amidst the throes of labor, the people of God sense the
profound joy yet to come. Within this eschatological tension, water breaks. The Church lies arched out between
the birthing and the birth; she cannot remain silent. The flesh of a birthing mother proclaims the vision, even as
it stirs within her. Ultimately, she must have courage enough to embrace its fulfillment not only in the delivery of
a child, but also in the transformation of her own identity.
Transformation of the Mother: A Liberated Church
Indeed, while pregnancy and labor culminate in the birthing of a child, they also herald the transformation of the
birthing woman—and of the Church. Such transformation unfolds as the Church’s labor pangs draw her to make
“that word her own in her faith and in her body.”35 Similar to the Lukan Mary,36 this free choice embraces all the
messiness and unpredictability of childbirth. In this, the laboring woman claims renewed meaning for herself,
becoming a prophetic denunciation of traditional “dualisms of carnal femaleness and spiritual femininity.”37
A birthing mother Church first denounces and then heals these dualisms. While this healing can assume a variety of forms, it would undoubtedly entail the cultivation of a “more incisive female presence”38 in the Church’s
leadership structure and an increased attentiveness to inclusive language in worship. At its core, such healing
reflects the Church’s liberation from the humiliation of the “patriarchal feminine”39 and the offering of her body
as a “community which is itself a sign of transformation”40 today.
28 Romero, “The Church,” 7..
29 Gaillardetz, By What Authority, 6.
30 One such example of how this labor can be found in a peoples’ collective identity is evident in the ways human communities are now grappling to
reorient their relationship with the Earth in light of environmental devastation.
31 Galatians 4:19.
32 Romans 8:22.
33 1 Thessalonians 5:3.
34 2 Corinthians 5:17.
35 Gutierrez, “Holy is God’s Name,” 174.
36 See Luke 1:26-52.
37 Ruether, Sexism and God-Talk, 152.
38 Francis, Evangelii Gaudium (2013), no. 103.
39 Ruether, Sexism and God-Talk, 149.
40 Pope Paul VI, Evangelii Nuntiandi (1975), no. 23.
28
This community remembers its birth narrative. It knows that the emergence of the Christ child is only realized
in a fundamentally co-centric manner.41 For in labor, no single part of a woman’s body dominates the rest.42
Each aspect of her physicality uniquely contributes to the realization of her mission. As her very body provides the visible structure for birthing the Christ, so too must the Church be structured. Honoring the organic,
tidal and dynamic rhythms of the laboring woman, a birthing mother Church can outgrow the “exaggerated
institutionalism”43 to which she has often been prone. The need for such growth has emerged as a timely theme
in Pope Francis’ papacy, particularly as he decried many of the “diseases” born of such institutionalism in his
2014 pre-Christmas meeting with the Roman Curia.44 Ultimately, such diseases stand as an impediment to the
Gospel and to the Vatican II Council’s commitment to open engagement with the broader world.
In the transformation experienced by the mother Church, one can recognize certain liberatory impulses already
present within the Church today. Bearing the inclusive mark of Archbishop Oscar Romero’s “Easter Church,”45
one such impulse can be found in the gradual emergence of an “alternative Christianity.”46 This alternative Christianity stands in creative tension alongside the institutional Church, prophetically engaging her to heal those
wounds wrought by the patriarchal feminine. In part, this prophetic engagement may involve the formation of
“feminist base communities”47 that autonomously form out of a commitment to seeking freedom from sexism
and other forms of oppression. And while the transformation of the mother Church can undoubtedly be nurtured in a variety of ways, the collective impact of any renewed Christian witness must ultimately catalyze the
Church’s transformation at every level of her self-understanding.
Without doubt, many possibilities still lie in the darkened womb. Until the cries of the promised child rise across
the world, the birthing pangs continue. The woman labors at the birthing bed. The Church awakens to a deepening sense of her own identity and mission.
Horizons of Further Exploration
While imaging the Church as a birthing mother opens unique possibilities for understanding its mission, potential limitations must be also addressed. One such limit lies in how this image informs the feminine in Catholic
tradition. While an ecclesiology of a laboring Church may catalyze a renewed valuation of female presence,
such valuation cannot remain shackled to a woman’s sole identity as mother. Mothers embody a multiplicity
of identities in the world. Furthermore, not all women sense a call to motherhood, and motherhood itself is by
no means limited to the biological kind. Thus, any valuation of the feminine in Catholic tradition must seriously
grapple with the inherent complexity of “the feminine” itself. Imaging the Church as a birthing mother, or any
other use of maternal language, ought to constitute one component of the tradition’s emerging feminist consciousness.
Other possible drawbacks exist. For example, focusing on a mother’s experience of joyful delivery fails to account for women whose pregnancy ends in the grief of miscarriage. Those who suffer the violence of rape or
experience an unplanned pregnancy may also offer vastly different stories, as does each woman herself. An
ecclesiology of childbirth needs to ensure that no single narrative is lauded as either normative or prescriptive.
And while the image may enrich the symbolic tradition of a female Church, it could also inhibit the development
41 Consider this model in distinction to the church as “pyramidal hierarchy” in Edward Schillebeeckx, Church: The Human Story of God (New York:
Crossroad, 1991), 198-199. He explores the Vatican II Council’s shift towards recognizing the “co-responsibility of all believers” on pages 207-213.
42 Compare with Paul’s description of the community in 1 Corinthians 12:4-31.
44 Pope Francis, Presentation of Christmas Greetings to the Roman Curia, December 2014.
45 Cf. Romero, “The Easter Church.”
46 Cf. Ruether, Sexism and God-Talk, 195.
47 Cf. Ruether, Sexism and God-Talk, 205.
29
of other gendered ecclesiologies. Finally, the image must be held in tension with the traditional wedding of a
female Church to a male Christ. Insofar as the tradition predominates, women’s ongoing struggle to fully claim
and celebrate themselves in Christ’s image may likewise be inhibited. These concerns bear serious implications
for contemporary theology and ministry. As such, they demand careful thought and exploration.
Certain possibilities of a birthing ecclesiology also remain unconsidered. Notable is how the “birthing process”
has thus far been examined in light of a mother’s physical labor. And yet, both women and men usher new life
into the world through other forms of birthing. Innumerable creative processes manifest the Christ; each demands both respect and inclusion. Further consideration also needs to be given to the implications this model
holds for the Church’s relationship with a pluralistic global community. An ecclesiology of a Church-in-labor
should be adopted only insofar as it nourishes open, humble engagement with the broader world, particularly
in the realm of interfaith dialogue.
Still, the metaphor remains inexhaustible. While other considerations remain, the concerns and possibilities
named above are among those which merit committed theological reflection.
Conclusion
Without a doubt, envisioning the Church as a woman in labor presents it with a daunting mission in the world.
While the Church’s call to form and birth the Christ finds grounding in post-conciliar ecclesiology, it also presses
for a significant reexamination of the Church’s identity, particularly its valuation of the feminine. For a contemporary Catholic community still immersed in the throes of the birthing process, the image of the Church
as a woman in labor offers itself as a vision of hope. Indeed, we can trust that our birthing pangs emerge from
our struggle for justice; far from impeding progress, they actually point to the slow realization of the Church’s
mission. These labor pangs serve as a “foreshadowing of the new age”48—an age whose form we may briefly
glimpse, yet whose fullness remains obscured. Following the witness of our own mothers, we pray for the courage to labor with steadfast resolve, driven by the promise of new life.
“In gratitude to professor James B. Nickoloff whose teaching and guidance empowered my search for a liberating
ecclesiology.”
48 Vatican Council II, Gaudium et Spes (Rome 1965), no. 39.
30
Article
Mariology and Ecumenical Dialoge
by Donald H. J. Hermann1
T
he Virgin Mary has increasingly become the subject of ecumenical dialogue. In part, this this is a consequence of Vatican II, which marked a significant change in characterizations of the doctrine and devotion
to Mary. As a result, there have been a number of ecumenical discussions and related publications. These
interchanges have involved significant conferences between traditions including dialogues and commissions involving Roman Catholics and representatives of various Protestant denominations and the Anglican Communion. This article will survey some of the more significant developments in the ecumenical dialogues on Mary,
including the dialogues of Roman Catholics with American Lutherans, British Methodists, and an independent
group of Protestants meeting in France. Then, significant attention will be directed to the statement of the Anglican-Roman Catholic International Commission on Mary, which represents the most comprehensive ecumenical
dialogue on Mariology. For many years, devotion to Mary and the suggestion that Mary has a special place in
the Communion of saints was a cause for division among Christian churches and sometimes resulted in charges
that the attention given to Mary was a matter of “popery,” a disparaging term referring to Roman Catholicism.
The contemporary dialogue on beliefs about Mary and their Scriptural foundations marks a significant moment
in Christian inter-religious dialogue and provides the basis for further developments toward Christian unity.
Mariology1
Mariology is that part of dogmatic theology that deals with the Virgin Mary in relation to God and to her fellow
creatures. In Roman Catholicism, Mary is recognized as the proper subject of pious veneration by the faithful
because of Mary’s special relationship with Christ and the Church. This twofold aspect of Mariology was emphasized by Pope Paul VI in his Apostolic Exhortation, Marialis Cultus on the “the Right Ordering and Development
of Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary,” delivered in 1974, where the pope states:
In the sphere of worship this devotion [to the Blessed Virgin Mary] necessarily reflects God’s redemptive plan, in which a special form of veneration is appropriate to the singular place which Mary
occupies in the plan….the history of piety shows how “the various forms of devotion towards the
Mother of God that the Church has approved within the limits of wholesome and orthodox doctrine” have developed in harmonious subordination to the worship of Christ.2
Scripture provides the basis for Christian teaching on the Virgin Mary. However, in Roman Catholic theology, understanding of scripture is aided by tradition and the Church’s teaching authority which are important bases for
understanding the status and role of Mary in Catholicism. While Roman Catholicism places important value on
1 Donald H. J. Hermann is currently a M.A./M. Div candidate at CTU. He is currently a Professor of Law and Philosophy at DePaul University. His prior
degrees include: A.B Stanford (1965), J.D. Columbia University (1968), LL.M. Harvard University (1974), M.A. (1979), Ph.D (1981) Northwestern
University, M.A.A.H., School of the Art Institute of Chicago (1995), M.L.A., University of Chicago (2001).
2 Paul VI, Marialis Cultus (February 2, 1974), http://www.vatican.v2/holy-father/paul_vi/apost_exhortations.
31
tradition, that tradition has a scriptural foundation. Nevertheless, Roman Catholic dialogue with most Protestant
churches necessitates primary focus on scriptural passages that specifically support titles or special qualities of
Mary. There are, however, only four dogmatically declared doctrines dealing with Mary: (1) Divine Motherhood,
(2) Virginity, (3) Immaculate Conception, and (4) Assumption.3 The fact that there are only four definitive dogmas about Mary facilitates discussion. The absence of any claim that Mary is the “mediatrix” of all graces, for
example, avoids a claim that would be a significant obstacle to discourse with most Protestant churches.
The Roman Catholic Marian tradition draws heavily from the Gospels of Luke and John, which are believed to
be based on very reliable traditions about Mary and are viewed as coming close to the actual historical person.4
Mark and Matthew present a Mary drawn on oral legends or inventions by the evangelists themselves. From
a Protestant point of view, the reliance on evangelists Mark and Matthew who are viewed as drawing on oral
legends, which are largely rejected by the various Protestant churches, gave rise to unhistorical and legendary
accounts of Mary. It was at the Council of Ephesus in 431 that Mary was declared the “Godbearer,” or Mother
of God (Theotokos).5 And, it was only in 649 that the Lateran Council, under Pope St. Martin I, proclaimed the
perfect and perpetual virginity of Mary both before and after the birth of Jesus.6
Early meditation in Marian theology drew on the Pauline contrast between Jesus Christ and Adam (Romans
5:15). A comparable contrast is established by contrasting Mary as the new Eve, bringing forth life in Jesus in
obedience to God, with the primal Eve, who brought forth sin and death in disobedience to God. Paul Palmer, S.
J., in Mary in Documents of the Church, maintains that underlying the creeds dealing with the Mother of God,
there is a devotional practice recognizing Mary as the sinless new Eve: “[T]he whole of Mariology, the truths of
Mary’s motherhood, her virginity, her mediation, her sinlessness, the incorruptibility of her body, are foreshadowed in a tendency from the beginning to associate Mary, the second Eve, with Christ, the second Adam.”7
There was no significant advance in the overall approach to Mariology for centuries. Even the Council of Trent
provided no significant new dogmatic statement about Mary, despite the fact that many leaders of the reformation specifically denied any privileged role of intercession for Mary. The Council of Trent limited itself to a
reaffirmation of belief in Mary’s sinlessness and freedom from the taint of original sin. Palmer attributes this
inattention to Mary by the Council of Trent to the limited critique of devotion to Mary by Luther: “Martin Luther
refused to distinguish between true and exaggerated devotion to the Mother of God, and set the tone of future
Protestant denials by branding all devotion to the saints and to Mary, their Queen, as idolatry. And yet Luther
never completely rejected the teaching on the prerogatives of the Blessed Virgin Mary.”8
The post-Tridentine Church, until the mid-twentieth century, witnessed an increased devotion to Mary with a
recognition of her role in the redemptive work of Christ. This led to increased acclamation of Mary’s role as mediator and as spiritual mother of the Church. The Church’s acceptance of these roles for Mary produced strong
criticism from Jansenism and Protestantism, which viewed these developments as establishing a privileged position for Mary and as undermining the unique role of Christ in salvation. However, it was the formal declaration
by the papacy of the Marian dogmas of the Immaculate Conception (1854) and the Assumption (1950) that
resulted in significant criticism and challenges of authority from the Protestant and Anglican communities that
remain critical to the contemporary ecumenical dialogue on Mariology.
3 Mary Ann Zimmer, Mary 101: Tradition and Influence (Liguori, MO: Ligouri, 2010), 41.
4 Chris Mzunder, “Mary in the New Testament and Apocrypha” in Mary: The Complete Resource, ed. Sarah Jane Boss (New York: Oxford University
Press, 2007), 14.
5 Sarah Jane Boss, “The Title Theotokos” in Mary: The Complete Resource, ed. Sarah Jane Boss (New York: Oxford University Press, 2007), 53-54.
6 Paul Palmer, Mary in the Documents of the Church (Westminster, MD: Newman Press, 1952), 31-32.
7 Palmer, Documents of the Church, 12.
8 Palmer, Documents of the Church, 76.
32
The doctrine of the Immaculate Conception provides that Mary was conceived without original sin, this was
declared an article of faith by the papal bull Ineffablis Deus in 1854.9 At the Council of Trent, it had been made
clear that the teaching of the universal reach of original sin was not meant to include the Virgin Mary. The
doctrine had been promulgated at the Council of Basel in 1439, but because this was subsequently held not to
be an ecumenical council, its decree on the Immaculate Conception lacked authority.10 Pius IX was aware that
this declaration of dogma would be subject to scrutiny by the entire Christian world, and therefore, sought to
establish both scriptural and historical basis for the doctrine. However, lacking a specific scriptural text supporting the dogma, the pope maintained the doctrine was not contrary to the teaching of Scripture, and appealed
to passages of Scripture, as understood by Fathers of the Church, and other ecclesiastical authorities, who had
contributed to the Tradition of the Church.
In 1950, Pope Pius XII declared as dogma the Assumption of Mary in Munificentissimus Deus.11 This doctrine of
the bodily Assumption of the Virgin Mary into heaven, lacking explicit Scriptural textual support, raises issues
within the ecumenical dialogue on Mary, including questions about the relation of Scripture and tradition. There
is also the issue of infallibility of the pope as the authority for enunciating Church doctrine and belief, without
the assent of an ecumenical council. Nevertheless, it is clear that the pope insisted in his decree of promulgation
that the Scriptures served as the ultimate foundation for his declaration.
Mary and Vatican II
The Second Vatican Council did not issue a specific document on Mary. This decision not to issue any pronouncement on Mary has had a significant effect. Peter Endeson, S. J., in his essay, “How to Think About Mary’s
Privileges: A Post-Conciliar Exposition”, noted that: “The downplaying of devotion to Mary was one of the most
obvious effects of the council on mainstream Catholic life, rivaled perhaps only by the disappearance of the Latin
Liturgy.”12 Moreover, the way the council fathers chose to deal with Mary has had significance for subsequent
ecumenical dialogue on Mariology. According to Endeson: “What prevailed, however, was a more ecumenically
sensitive presentation, avoiding new titles and setting Mary within the perspective of salvation history. It became fashionable to base any account of what we might want to say about Mary on what Christianity must say
about human beings in general.”13
Mary was first mentioned in a council document in the “Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy,” Sacrosanctum Councilium, issued in December 1964.14 The Council linked Mary to Christ’s work of salvation and honored her as the
Mother of God; this suggests a Christocentric understanding of Mary. At the same time the Council recognized
Mary as a faultless image of all the members of the Church; this provides an Ecclesiastical understanding of
Mary. The most significant treatment of Mary by the Council is presented in Chapter 8 of the “Dogmatic Constitution of the Church,” Lumen Gentium, promulgated in 1964.15 Rejecting a declaration of Mary as co-redemptrix,
the officially approved title of Chapter 8 is De Beata Maria Virginie Deiparz in Mysterio Christi et Ecclesia, (“On
the blessed God-bearing Virgin Mary in the mystery of Christ and the Church”). With this terminology, Vatican
II evidenced an embrace of both a Christocentric Mariology and an Ecclesiastical Mariology, both of which have
become the significant bases of ecumenical dialogue. Vatican II represents a shift in Mariology from treating
9 Sarah Jane Boss, “The Development of the Doctrine of Mary’s Immaculate Conception” in Mary: the Complete Resource, ed. Sarah Jane Boss, (New
York: Oxford University Press, 2007), 207.
10 Boss, “Mary’s Immaculate Conception,” 207.
11 Boss, “Mary’s Immaculate Conception,” 281-283.
12 Philip Endeson, “How to Think About Mary’s Privileges: A Post-Conciliar Exposition” in Mary: The Complete Resource, (New York: Oxford University
Press, 2007), 285.
13 Endeson, “Mary’s Privileges,” 285.
14 Paul VI, Sacrosanctum Concilium (1963), no. 103.
15 Paul VI, Lumen Gentium (1964), no. 52-69.
33
Mary as a privileged or centered subject of isolated devotion to a position which venerates Mary in association
with Christ (Christocentric) and in relation to the Church (Ecclesiastical).
Edward Schillebeeckx maintains that the Council’s decision to emphasize the Christological and Ecclesiastical
aspects of Mariology, and the decision not to consider devotional aspects of Mariology, evidenced a desire to
provide encouragement of ecumenical dialogue on Mary. This latter decision was taken by the Council fathers
despite the fact that devotional practices had been a significant part of popular Catholic religious practice. According to Schillebeeckx: “Vatican II rightly continued to refuse to give explicit and honorable mention to any
specific form of devotion to Mary. So, the council did not accede to the request made by some council fathers
that explicit mention should be made of devotion to the rosary, which is historically so dear to many Dominicans. Particular devotions to Mary, however valuable they may be, remain a matter of choice for Christianity as
a whole. And therefore, it is good the universal church councils should keep silent about them.”16 We can see,
for example, the result of the failure to endorse popular devotion to Mary in the diminished use of the rosary by
Roman Catholics. At the same time, there has been an increased invocation of Mary by Anglicans in their communion prayers.
The third significant statement of Vatican II for the ecumenical dialogue on Mary appears in Chapter two of the
“Decree on Ecumenism”, Unitatis Regintegratio, promulgated the same day as Lumen Gentium (November 21,
1964).17 Paragraph 20 provides in part: “The manner and order in which Catholic belief is expressed should in
no way become an obstacle to dialogue with other Christians….when comparing doctrines with one another,
they should remember that in Catholic doctrine there exists an order or ‘hierarchy’ of truths, since they vary in
their relation to the Christian faith.”18 This statement has motivated theologians to consider the various Marian
dogmas from the perspective of their relation to the central truths of the Christian Faith and the working of
salvation. Frederick Jelly, O.P., wrote in Marian Studies (1976): “I submit that the ‘hierarchy of truths’ teaching
from the Decree in Ecumenism calls for a contemporary contemplation of Mary in close connection with the
Triune God, revealed in the Incarnate Word, our Redeemer, and also in intimate relationship with the mystery
of the Church, the members of his redeemed body of which she is a part.”19 The result is that, the dogmas of
Mary’s divine maternity and perpetual virginity are given to a Christocentric focus, while the dogmas of Mary’s
Immaculate Conception and Assumption are given an Ecclesiotypical understanding. The Christocentric dogmas are viewed in light of the truths of revelation and the Ecclesiotypical dogmas are viewed in relation to the
economy of salvation.
Early Ecumenical Dialogue On Mary
It is generally conceded that the subject of Mary has been a source of division between Catholic and Protestant
Churches. As stated in the introduction, devotion to Mary was often misunderstood as worship leading to charges of idolatry and accusations of “popery.” Discussing the Virgin Mary and Ecumenism in Understanding the
Mother of Jesus, published in 1978, Eamon Carroll, O.Carm., observed that: “Since the Protestant Reformation
in the sixteenth century the Virgin Mary has been a sign of contradiction among western Christians.”20 According
to Carroll, the treatment of Mary by Vatican II, in part, is explained by recognition of these differences among
Christian Churches: “the Catholic side the Second Vatican Council showed a keen awareness of the difficulties
other Christians find in Catholic doctrine and devotion about the Mother of Jesus.”21
16 Edward Schillebeeckx and Catharina Halkes, Mary, Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow (New York: Crossroad, 1993), 23.
17 Paul VI, Unitatis Redintegratio (1964), no. 14.
18 UR, no. 14.
19 Frederick & Jelly, “Marian Dogmas Within Vatican II’s Hierarchy of Truths,” Marian Studies 27 (1976), 17-18.
20 Eamon Carroll, Understanding the Mother of Jesus (Wilmington, DE: Michael Glazier, 1978), 37.
21 Carroll, Mother of Jesus, 38.
34
A significant move in the ecumenical dialogue on Mary was the establishment in England in 1967 of the Ecumenical Society of the Blessed Virgin Mary, (ESBVM)22 The purpose of ESBVM is to promote ecumenical devotion and study at various levels of the place of the Blessed Virgin Mary in the Church under Christ.”23 The group
meets regularly, sponsors conferences, and publishes papers.24 An American branch was established in 1967
and has brought together Roman Catholic, Anglican, Orthodox, and Protestant Christian scholars to explore the
significant questions related to devotion to Mary, including the Church’s teaching authority and the legitimacy
of invocation of Mary and the saints in prayer.
The significance of ESBVM as an ecumenical organization has been limited by the fact that most of its members
are Roman Catholic, and the other members come from those parts of the Church of England and the Methodist
Church that are most favorable to the Catholic sacramental tradition.25 The importance of the organization lies
in that its meetings have been very inclusive, welcoming expression of views on Mary that are contrary to most
of its membership and have included speakers who express traditional Protestant skepticism about the principal
features of Mariology.26
There have been three interconfessional dialogues on Mary involving the Roman Catholics: the American Lutheran Catholic dialogue;27 the British Methodist dialogue;28and the dialogue of the Anglican-Roman Catholic
Commission.29 An unofficial group, Groupe des Dombes, involved French and Swiss Roman Catholics and Protestants.30 The Lutheran and Methodist dialogues, along with the unofficial French consultations, will be discussed
briefly in this section of this article. The Anglican dialogue will be dealt with more comprehensively in the next
part of this article.
The first of these dialogues, the American Lutheran-Catholic dialogue (1983-1990), was initially focused on Marian devotion and veneration of the saints. There was common agreement on the singularity of Christ and his
justifying grace. The Lutherans agree that Catholic practice involving the saints is not idolatrous. The Catholics
acknowledge the honor given to Mary by Luther in his sermons on writings. However, the Lutherans stress the
sole sufficiency of the merits of Christ and the immediacy of his grace, which raises questions about the intercession of Mary. In response, the Roman Catholics state the belief that the Church has always maintained, that
Christ is the sole autonomous mediator of grace. Mary and the saints are recognized as cooperating with Christ
through prayer on both sides of death: “Catholic teaching promotes confidence that death is not strong enough
to keep those united with Christ in heaven from continuing to pray for others yet in via and from being called on
by those others for just that prayer.”31 For Lutherans, the importance of Mary and the saints lies in the example
they give of obedience to God on earth, for which they are now honored. Mary is the pre-eminent praiseworthy
saint and is a prototype of the Church: “With regard to Mary, Lutherans affirm her as the ‘God-bearer’ (Theoto22 Carroll, Mother of Jesus, 57.
23 Carroll, Mother of Jesus, 58.
24 The books of papers published by the ESBVM include: A. Stackpoole (ed.), Mary’s Place in Christian Doctrine (1982); A. Stackpoole, (ed.), Mary
and the Churches (1987); W. McLoughlin and J. Pinnock (eds), Mary is for Everyone (1997); W. McLoughlin and J. Pinnock (eds.), Mary for Earth and
Heaven: Essays on Mary and Ecumenism (2002).
25 David Carter, “Mary in Ecumenical Dialogue and Exchange” in Mary: The Complete Resource, ed. Sarah Jane Boss (New York: Oxford University
Press, 2007), 345.
26 Carter, Dialogue as Exchange, 345.
27 H. George Anderson, J. Stafford and J. Burgess, The One Mediator, the Saints and Mary: Lutherans and Catholics in Dialogue VIII (Minneapolis:
Augsburg,1992).
28 British Methodist/Roman Catholic Committee, Mary, Mother of the Lord (Methodist Publishing House and CTS Publications, 1995).
29 Anglican-Roman Catholic International Commission, Mary: Grace and Hope in Christ (London: Morehouse, 2006).
30 A. Blancy, M. Jourjon and Dombes Group, Mary in the Plan of God and in the Communion of Saints: Towards a Common Christian Understanding
(New York-Mahwah: Paulist, 2002).
31 Anderson, The One Mediator, 46-47.
35
kos) and hold her in high esteem as the most praiseworthy of all the saints. In this sense, Mary is to Lutherans a
symbolic prototype of the Church: she is obedient to the mandate of the Holy Spirit, humble in her calling, and
the embodiment of the unmerited grace of God.”32
The remaining fundamental disagreement between Catholics and Lutherans are underlying theological views
as well as specific differences on dogma. Mary is to be venerated, not because of merit reflected in her humility and virginity, but as a recipient of God’s grace reflecting the gracious regard God had for Mary. The most
obvious disagreements are focused on specific dogmas of the Roman Catholic Church on Mary. Specifically, the
Marian dogmas affirming her Immaculate Conception (1854) and her bodily Assumption (1950) are objected to
by Lutherans because these dogmas arguably have no scriptural basis and were promulgated as infallible truths
without consultation with other Christians. “Lutherans feel compelled to object to both the method used in establishing these doctrines and the assertions made in these papal definitions because they represent a doctrinal
development reflecting specifically Catholic concerns rather than ecumenical ones.”33
Ultimately the Catholic-Lutheran dialogue faltered on the significance of the issue of justification both as it relates to Mary herself as well as the faithful who venerate her. The Lutheran belief in justification by faith alone
is central to Lutherans’ overall belief system. Lutheran acceptance of any teaching or practice relating to Mary,
particularly prayers related to Mary and the saints, must in no way impinge on this central belief about justification. Subsequent to the Catholic-Lutheran dialogue on devotion to Mary, the Lutheran churches and the Roman
Catholic Church articulated a common understanding of justification by God’s grace through faith in Christ.34
According to their “Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification,” the Lutheran World Federation and the
Catholic Church declared, “Justification is the work of the triune god…. The foundation and presupposition of
justification is the incarnation, death, and resurrection of Christ…. By grace alone, in faith in Christ’s saving word
and not because of any merit on our part, we are acceptable by God and receive the Holy Spirit, who renews
our heart while equipping and calling us to do good works.”35 Every person, including Mary herself, is ultimately
justified by the work of God and thereby enabled to do the good works that praise and glorify God. With the
establishment of the Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification, a significant obstacle to agreement on
devotion to Mary for her life glorifying Christ is removed.
The Methodist-Catholic dialogue takes as its foundational belief, for any consideration of Mary, the gratuitousness of grace while rejecting any notion of salvation by works: “[M]ary is nothing apart from the grace of God,
and all we affirm of her is the fruit of God’s grace in her life.”36 Mary in her acceptance of the word of God announcing the messiah’s birth is seen as a model for all Christians: “Mary sums up in herself the relationship
between God’s sovereign grace and our free cooperation, (itself a gift of grace), as individual believers and as
the Church of Christ.”37 The Methodist-Catholic statement affirmed that “Mary is rightly called the Mother of
God, (or ‘God-bearer’, Theotokos, as taught by the Council of Ephesus in A.D. 431.”38 Similarly, the virginity of
Mary was affirmed: “Methodist and Catholics confess together that Mary was a virgin when she conceived Jesus
(Luke)1:34).39
32 Anderson, The One Mediator, 40-41.
33 Anderson, The One Mediator, 40.
34 Lutheran World Federation and the Catholic Church, Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification (1999), 38-39.
35 Joint Declaration, no. 38-39.
36 British Methodist, Mary, Mother of the Lord, 6.
36
The Methodists, however, reject the dogma of the Immaculate Conception as such: “The Methodist tradition
does not accept the Immaculate Conception of Mary as a doctrine of faith firmly grounded in Scripture.”40 However, the Methodists and Catholics agree on the underlying doctrine of salvation which is expressed in the dogma of the Immaculate Conception: “For Catholics, the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception teaches that Mary
was redeemed by her son from the first moment of her existence. As Methodists and Catholics, we affirm together the victory of Christ’s grace in Mary. If Mary were indeed redeemed in this way, it would be the supreme
instance of justification by grace alone.”41
Similarly, the Methodists reject the explicit dogma of the Assumption while accepting the underlying doctrinal
basis of the Assumption: “The Methodist Tradition does not accept the teaching as a Scriptural doctrine, but
once again Catholics and Methodists can affirm together much that lies at the heart of the doctrine.”42 For example, the Assumption can be seen as an anticipation of the final resurrection: “If Mary was indeed assumed
body and soul into heaven, then she already lives now in the life of the age to come. Her Assumption is an anticipation of all that we hope one day to be and to share [in the final resurrection of the dead].”43 The doctrine
of the Assumption can be seen as based on the belief that both the body and soul are the subjects of salvation:
“this doctrine also affirms that God loves and saves not just the soul but the whole human person, body as well
as soul.”44
The Catholic-Methodist statement can be read as lacking agreement on the literal truth of these disputed doctrines; however, there was basic agreement on the substance of Mariology: “Whatever difficulties remain to be
resolved, however, we are able to affirm together much that lies at the heart of Marian doctrine. Doctrine must
be deeply rooted in the Scriptures, read and interpreted with our hearts illuminated by the Holy Spirit and within
the community of faith on its pilgrim journeyed through history.”45 This statement was not accepted by all Methodists as evidenced by the critique of the Catholic-Methodist statement by Edward Ball who suggested that the
commission uncritically accepted debatable Catholic interpretations of Scripture.46 For example, Ball disputed
whether the claim of Mary’s spiritual motherhood of all believers can be derived from Jesus commitment of the
beloved disciple to her care. Ball maintains that it is not clear that the Assumption should be understood as a
significant manifestation of the promise of final resurrection, without displacing the ascension as an entirely sufficient pledge of final resurrection.
The third Marian dialogue being examined in this paper, is from the Groupe des Dombes, which met at the
Cistercian monastery of Les Dombes, north of Lyon. This independent group which met in 1997 and 1998 was
not established by any official Church bodies. Its forty members were split evenly between Roman Catholic and
Lutheran-Reformed Church in France and Switzerland. The foundational premise of the group was that reconciliation between churches can come about through “a process of mutual conversion to God and his Christ; every
dialogue is a dialogue of conversion.”47
The document produced by the Groupe des Dombes rejects the association by some Catholics of Mary with the
language of mediation in any way that is not subordinate to Christ as sole mediator.48 On the other hand, the
Groupe also rejected the view of some Protestants that there is an incompatibility between the Catholic notion
41 British Methodist, Mary, Mother of the Lord, 11-12.
43 British Methodist, Mary, Mother of the Lord, 14-15.
46 Edward Ball, “Mary, Mother of the Lord,” Epworth Review 24 (4) (Oct. 1997), 25-41.
47 C.E. Clifford, “Dialogue and Method: Learning from the Groupe des Dombes,” One in Christ 38 (2003), 43-57.
48 Blancy, Mary in the Plan of God, 210.
37
of Mary’s co-operation and the Protestant view of grateful response to a perfect gift of grace.49 The Groupe cited
Luther’s recognition of the free works and love of Mary and the duty of every person “after we have been justified by faith, [to] do everything for others, freely and gladly.”50
The Groupe warns Catholics of the danger of invoking “the sense of the faithful” in defense of new cults and
devotions, because of the danger of taking religious sentiment for true Christian faith.”51 From the point of the
Groupe, Mariology should be taken as an aspect of Christology, and not presented as an independent theological
subject. The Groupe maintained that submission to the dogmas of the Immaculate Conception and Assumption
should not be required of the other Christian churches, because of their promulgation without consultation with
the other churches, and because of the papal view prior to 1854 that those holding contrary opinions in such
matters of faith should not anathematize each other. The Groupe suggested that the other churches in dialogue
should be asked only to affirm their respect for the content of these dogmas, not judging them to be contrary to
the faith, but accepting them as “free and legitimate consequences of reflection of the Catholic consciousness
on the coherence of faith.”52 The Groupe endorsed Pope Paul VI’s assertion that Marian doctrine and devotion
should be biblical, liturgical, and ecumenically sensitive.53 Most significantly, from an Ecumenical point of view,
the Groupe concluded that Mary should never be a reason for disunity in the Church: “Yet our entire work has
shown that nothing about Mary allows her to be made the symbol of what separates us.”54
The Anglican-Roman Catholic International Commission, An Agreed Statement: Mary: Grace and Hope in Christ
The Anglican Church and Roman Catholic Church have been engaged in significant inter-religious dialogue for
over half a century. Early discussion focused on the sacraments of Eucharist and Ordination. Given the significance of the splintering of the relation between the English Church and the Church of Rome over the authority
of the Pope, the subject of authority has been given extensive consideration. With the dawn of the twenty-first
century, the subject of Mary became the object of serious Anglican and Roman Catholic dialogue. The Agreed
Statement on Mary: Grace and Hope in Christ, published in May 2005 is the result of the dialogue on Mary by the
Anglican-Roman Catholic International Commission (ARCIC), authorized by the Anglican Communication Office
and the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity. This is the tenth ecumenical statement of the ARCIC.
These statements have dealt with: Eucharist (1971), Ministry and Ordination (1973), Authority in the Church-I
(1976), Authority in the Church-II (1981), Salvation and Church (1996), The Gift of Authority-Authority in the
Church III (1998), and Mary: Grace and Hope in the Church (2005).
Anglican and Roman Catholic bishops meeting in 2000 asked the Commission to produce a statement on the
place of “Mary in the life and doctrine of the Church.”55This request reflected acknowledged differences between
the churches on the Mariological definitions promulgated in 1854 and 1950, namely the Roman-Catholic dogmas of the Immaculate Conception and the Assumption. Anglicans had questioned these doctrines on grounds
of insufficient support in Scripture, and because they were defined by the pope acting apart from a council.
The Agreed Statement draws on Scripture and tradition to provide “the context for a common appreciation of
the content of the Marian dogmas resulting in [p]rogress in ecumenical dialogue and understanding [which] suggests that we now have an opportunity to receive together the tradition of Mary’s place in God’s revelation.”56
49 Blancy, Mary in the Plan of God, 291-4.
55 Mary: Grace and Hope in Christ, 2.
56 Mary: Grace and Hope in Christ, 4-5.
38
This process of reception ultimately allows the questioned dogmas to be understood in light of the implicit
scriptural foundation underlying the Immaculate Conception and the Assumption. Thus, the basic question being answered by the Agreed Statement is:”[T]o what extant doctrine or devotion concerning Mary belongs to a
legitimate ‘reception’ of the apostolic Tradition, in accordance with the Scripture.”57
This declaration consists of four sections, the first of which is “Mary according to the Scriptures.” This section is
important because in the Anglican tradition, article VI of the Thirty-nine Articles of faith provides: “Holy Scriptures containeth all things necessary to salvation; so that whatsoever is not read therein, not may be proved
thereby, is not to be required of any man, that it should be believed as on article of the Faith, or to be thought
requisite or necessary to salvation.”58 The method of analysis adopted by the statement uses modern hermeneutical approaches to Scripture which lead to the identification of scriptural authority for all the doctrines of
Catholic Mariology: “More recent approaches to Scripture point to the range of possible readings of a text, notably its narrative, rhetorical and sociological dimension” at the same time recognizing that “no reading of a text
is neutral, but each is shaped by the context and interest of its readers.”59 After examining significant Scriptural
passages, the conclusion is reached that it’s impossible to be faithful to Scripture without giving due attention
to Mary.60
The second section, “Mary in the Christian Tradition,” involves examination of common Anglican and Catholic
traditions within the Christian Tradition which reveals that the early Church understood Mary as the Mother of
God, the Word Incarnate, and the God-bearer (Mary as Theotokos). This conclusion follows from a review of the
early Church councils which are authoritative in both traditions, from the writings of the Church Fathers, and
from devotion to Mary in the medieval centuries.
The ‘Re-reception” of Marian doctrines and spirituality is recognized in both traditions. In the Catholic tradition,
it is recognized that in the post-Vatican II Church, devotion to Mary “is properly located within the Christological
focus of the Church’s public prayer” with the recognition that “the authentic renewal of Marian devotion must
be integrated with the doctrine of God, Christ, and the Church.”61 At the same time, the Anglican Church has
renewed Mary’s prominence in its liturgy and prayer book: “Mary has a new prominence in Anglican worship
through the liturgical renewals of the twentieth century.”62
The third section “Mary Within the Pattern of Grace and Hope” approaches Mary from a Christological perspective applying its method of interpretation of Scripture to the contested doctrines of Mariology. The conclusion is
reached: “We….view the economy of grace from its fulfillment in Christ ‘back’ into history, rather than ‘forward’
from its beginning in fallen creation towards the future in Christ.”63 This perspective is said to offer a fresh light
in which to consider the place of Mary. This development of the methodological approach draws on the Pauline
perspective of the way God’s grace and salvation work, involving a pattern of grace and hope that can be seen
throughout the economy of salvation. This understanding of the operation of God’s grace provides the framework for re-receiving the two disputed Marian dogmas: “Within this biblical framework, we have considered
afresh the distinctive place of the Virgin Mary in the economy of grace, as the one who bore Christ, the elect of
God.”64
57 Mary: Grace and Hope in Christ, 5.
58 E.J.Bicknell, A Theological Introduction to the Thirty-Nine articles of the Church of England (3rd ed.) (London: Longmans, 1955), 55.
59 Mary: Grace and Hope in Christ, supra note at 29.
60 Mary: Grace of Hope in Christ, 28.
61 Mary: Grace of Hope in Christ, 45-6.
39
The Commission views the pattern of grace in the life of Mary as mirroring the destiny of the Church. God prepared Mary to be the mother of his Son by the grace already bestowed on her: “[W]e see in Mary’s acceptance
of the divine will the fruit of her prior preparation, signified in Gabriel’s affirmation of her as ‘graced.’”65 It is here
that the Commission establishes a scriptural basis for the Immaculate Conception. It is through the grace of God,
made possible by the working of the Holy Spirit that Mary is able to accept her role in the Divine Incarnation.
Mary is seen as the faithful disciple fully present with God in Christ. She thus becomes a sign of hope for all
humanity, so that her Assumption becomes a model of the resurrection and the hope for all Christians: “[T]he
pattern of hope and grace already foreshadowed in Mary will be fulfilled in the new creation in Christ when all
the redeemed will participate in the full glory of the Lord.”66 Thus, the Commission affirmed both the teaching
about Mary implicit in the doctrines of the Immaculate Conception [grace] and Assumption [hope]. These doctrines are to be “understood within the biblical pattern of the economy of grace and hope…which can be said
to be consonant with the reading of the Scriptures and the ancient common traditions.”67 While the statement
recognizes agreement on the content of the two dogmas, there remains a serious question about the authority
by which the doctrines were actually defined. That is the fact that the doctrines were declared by a pope claiming infallibility without the participation of an ecumenical council. However, the Agreed Statement recognizes
the possibility of resolving even this issue of authority. If the Agreed Statement were to be accepted by both the
Anglican Commission and the Catholic Church, “this would place the questions about authority, which arise from
the two definitions of 1854 and 1950, in a new ecumenical context.” 68
The fourth section, “Mary in the Life of the Church,” deals with the subject of devotion to Mary. The past practice
of Anglicans has been to view Mary from an inspirational perspective as an exemplary disciple in her response
to Christ. Catholic devotion has taken Mary as a participant in the ongoing salvation through the economy of
grace. The Anglican concern has been that devotion that involves prayerful intervention to Mary threatens the
doctrine of Christ as the only Mediator. Catholic devotion continues to recognize the practice of supplicatory
prayers to the Virgin. In its final declaration the Agreed Statement reconciles these devotional views by denying
that Mary has the role of “mediatrix of grace” while recognizing the propriety of supplicatory prayer: “Affirming
together unambiguously Christ’s unique mediation, which bears fruit in the life of the Christ, we do not consider
the practice of asking Mary and the saints to pray for us as communion dividing.”69
The Agreed Statement concludes by restating the basic agreement on the doctrines of Mariology and suggests
that this represents authentic ecumenical dialogue. The hope is expressed that the members of the two churches will develop a consensus on the place of Mary in both the devotion and doctrine, and that there be even a
wider “re-reception” of Mary among Christian believers.
Conclusion
These four ecumenical dialogues dealing with Mary discussed in this article represent an important advance on a
subject that can be seen as a significant service to the ecumenical objective of overcoming the division between
the Roman Catholic Church and the Protestant and Anglican Churches. The significance of a movement toward
a common agreement of the place of Mariology in the Christian tradition can be observed by comparing those
68 Mary: Grace of Hope in Christ, 74-75.
69 Ross Mackenzie, “Mariology as an Ecumenical Problem,” Marian Studies 36 (1975), 204, citing C. Anderson Scott, Romanism and the Gospel (Edinburg, 1973), 90.
40
dialogues with a statement of a Scottish protestant churchman who could be found stating some fifty years ago
that: “The cult of the Mother of Jesus is not only a perversion of the gospel, but the subversion of Christianity.”70
These dialogues are evidence of efforts to achieve common understanding on the traditional doctrines of Mariology (Mary as the Mother of God and the Virginity of Mary) by agreed upon reading of Scripture. The more contentious doctrine of the Immaculate Conception and the Assumption have received innovative analysis which is
based on use of modern methods of Scriptural interpretation. In these dialogues we can see at minimum a common agreement that these contested dialogues have an implicit Scriptural foundation. In the ARCIC dialogue,
one can observe actual common acceptance on the doctrines, with difference only on the process of their promulgation. These dialogues represent a consensus that Marian doctrines must be integrated into a Christology
that recognizes the primacy of grace and the saving mission of the Triune God. There is agreement that Mary, as
with every faithful Christian, both stood in the need of grace and received the grace needed for her role as the
God-bearer.
There is agreement in these dialogues that Mary is a model disciple within the fellowship of the Christian faithful along with the other saints. As Mother of Jesus and Mother of the Church, Mary is a disciple who guides
and teaches through her own profound reflection. While there is recognition of the special place of Mary in the
history of salvation, these dialogues represent a consensus understanding of Christ as the sole mediator and
source of grace. The rooting of Mariology in Christology and Ecclesiology is complementary in that Mary cannot
be related to Christ without being directly associated with the ecclesiastical Body of the Church that is the result
of Christ’s redemptive activity. Mary is, in turn, the archetype of the Church because of her unique relationship
with Christ. Edward Schillebeeckx summed up this foundational basis of Mariology in Christology and Ecclesiology: “Her concrete motherhood with regard to Christ, the redeeming God-Man, freely accepted in faith - her
fully committed divine motherhood - this is both the key to the full understanding of the Marian mystery and the
basic Mariological principle, which is concretely identical with Mary’s objectively and subjectively unique state
of being redeemed.”71 Thus, the two foundations of Mariology are Christocentric divine motherhood and the Ecclesiotypical prototypical redemption of Mary. The recognition of these two foundational aspects of Mariology,
which support the four doctrines basic to Mariology, provide the basis for the agreed upon consensus present
in the four inter-religious dialogues discussed in this article. As ecumenical dialogue seems rekindled under the
papacy of Pope Francis, there is a basis for hope that the agreements established by the inter-religious dialogues
discussed in this article may be formalized by the respective churches. At minimal, these dialogues establishing a
basic agreement on the attributes of Mary have removed what was a significant obstacle to ecumenical dialogue
leading to the unity of the Christian churches.
70 Mackenzie, “ Ecumenical Problem.”
71 Edward Schillebeeckx, Mary, Mother of the Redemption (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1964), 106.
41
Article
Christian Initiation, A Matter of Life and Death
by Jaime Bernardo Ávila-Borunda1
We1were indeed buried with him through baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from
the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live in newness of life. For, if we have grown into
union with him through a death like his, we shall also be united with him in the resurrection.2
A
s much as these words may sound to the modern Christian as allegorical and even hyperbolic, these words
encapsulate the essence, not only of Christian initiation but also of Christian life in general. Christian life
is a constant journey marked by processes of dying and rising. As the title of this essay indicates, Christian
initiation is a matter of life and death. Our lives even at the most secular level are lived constantly moving along
a path of evolution with many milestones. We process along a path of yearly events to come to the birthday
milestone, along the path of education to come to graduation, along the path of courtship to come to marriage,
and along the path of life to come to death. We are constantly engaged in a series of processions and stations
because a liturgical inclination is part of human nature. “This anthropology is deeply embodied in the actual
physicality of human personhood and embedded in the social context of human relatedness,” 3 Strawn and Yoon
observe.
When we talk about education, and particularly when we address faith formation, this anthropology plays a crucial role. If one approaches formation as a simple intellectual task, it will hardly succeed. In the words of James
K. A. Smith,
On this account, educational strategies that traffic only with ideas often fail actually to educate; that
is, they fail to form people. …we are, ultimately, liturgical animals because we are fundamentally
desiring creatures. We are what we love, and our love is shaped, primes, and aimed by liturgical
practices that take hold of our gut and aim our heart to certain ends, so we are not primarily homo
rationale or homo faber or homo economicus; we are not even generically homo religiosis. We are
more concretely homo liturgicus; humans are those animals that are religious animals not because
we are primarily believing animals, but because we are liturgical animals—embodied, practicing
creatures whose love/desire is aimed at something ultimate.4
1 1*Jaime Bernardo is a Graduate of The University of New Mexico. In 2008 he obtained a Master of Education degree from Universidad Regional del
Norte in Chihuahua City. He is currently in his last semester of courses at CTU, and will graduate in May 2015 from the Master of Divinity program
and May 2014 from the Master of Arts Program. Currently he works as pastoral associate at St Mary of the Immaculate Conception Church in Indianapolis, IN, and he teaches for the Archdiocesan Intercultural Pastoral Formation Institute of Indianapolis.
2 Romans 6:4-5 (New American Bible Revised Edition).
3 Brad D. Strawn and Hammer Miyoung Yoon, “Spiritual Formation through Direction at Fuller Theological Seminary School of Psychology,” Journal
of Psychology & Christianity 32, no. 4 (Winter 2013): 306.
4 James K. A. Smith, “Desiring the Kingdom: Worship, Worldview, and Cultural Formation,” Cultural Liturgies 1, (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic,
2009) 39-40.
42
Precisely “not because we are liturgical animals—embodied, practicing creatures whose love/desire is aimed
at something ultimate,”5 those very characteristics, i.e. embodiment, practice, and love/desire for something
ultimate must be at the core of our Christian formation. In the context of Christian life such formation leads us
to a process of dying and rising, a process all Christians are called to embody, live and pass on to the future generations. Thus, inspired by the calling to pass on to others what has been handed on to us,6 this essay intends to
address the liturgical flow of processions and stations, dying and rising, in the context of formation as part of the
Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA) and will explore some of the implications this motion poses to pastoral
ministry through an analysis of some of the models of formation currently used in the United States.
Formation
The liturgical path of Christian life is one of constant conversion. When we talk about processions and stations
in life, often we are not talking about going through the journey without any changes. There would be no point
of celebrating a birthday if there were no growth, learning, or maturing at some level. Similarly, in Christian life,
there is a necessity for an ongoing growth, learning, and maturing. This process is one of constantly dying to
the old self, in order to embrace a new form of being. We could say that being a Christian demands a constant
commitment to metamorphosis, “a process of initiation by death, in which the past is forsaken in order to live
something new,”7 in the language of the New Testament, “μετἀνοια” (metanoia).
In the process of Christian initiation, this metanoia is vital to a good outcome, as pointed out by Santiago Cañardo Ramírez:
El itinerario que se recorre en el bautismo de adultos es un proceso de muerte iniciática, en el que
se abandona lo anterior para vivir algo nuevo: un nuevo nacimiento, por el que se acepta en la fe
una vida y un sentido nuevo, dado por el descubrimiento de un Dios real, que en Cristo nos salva,
nos hace salir de la muerte a la vida, y nos incorpora a la Iglesia como comunidad de redimidos, de
hombres nuevos, que viven el mandamiento del amor.8
In addition, he reminds us that this process is not only a didactic matter, but also an existential immersion, that
is, a gradual process, as indicated by the sacred rites that accompany the process. “El rito de entrada, la elección
y los escrutinios, el rito bautismal y la mistagogia [sic] posterior significan y realizan la adhesión y vinculación afectiva y efectiva a Cristo, la conversión y el cambio real del corazón y la vida, la inmersión vivencial en el misterio
de Cristo y la introducción plena en la comunidad eclesial.”9
Μετἀνοια
Since this “process of initiation by death, in which the past is forsaken in order to live something new”10 is crucial
to Christian life, here I make a brief departure from the subject of formation to talk about the word metanoia,
5 Smith, Desiring the Kingdom, 40.
6 1 Corinthians 15:3-11.
7 Santiago Cañardo Ramírez, “Nueva experiencia de evangelización: La preparación de adultos para el bautismo,” Scripta Theologica 44, no. 3 (December 1, 2012): 723. All translations from Spanish are mine.
8 Ibid., 723. (The journey through which one goes toward adult baptism is a process of initiation by death, in which the past is forsaken in order to
live something new: a new birth by which new life and new meaning are accepted in faith, which happened by the discovery of a real God, who
saves us in Christ, rouses us from death into life, and makes us members of the church as community of redeemed people, of new people, who live
out the commandment of love.)
9 Ramirez, “Nueva experiencia de evangelización,” 723-724. (The rite of acceptance, the [rite of] election, and the scrutinies, the baptismal rite and
subsequent mystagogy signify and make real the affective and effective bond and link to Christ, the conversion and true change of heart and life,
the existential immersion in the mystery of Christ, and the fullness of insertion in the ecclesial community).
10 Ramirez, “Nueva experiencia de evangelización,” 723.
43
which comes from the Greek μετά (metá—beyond) + νοῦς/νόος (noús/nóos—mind, perception, understanding). In the New Testament, this word appears 56 times in its different forms. Though sometimes this term is
translated as “repentance,” metanoia is much more than repentance. As James Glentworth Butler indicates,
metanoia is “one of the most significant and vital words of Inspiration”11 in the New Testament, adding that in
its true meaning metanoia has
…no trace of sorrow or regret, no single element contained in the word Repentance. Hence its translation by that word has been, from the first until now, an utter mistranslation… Literally, the word
signifies Change of Mind, a change in the trend and action of the whole inner nature, intellectual,
affectional and moral, of the man, a reversal of his controlling estimates and judgments, desires and
affections, choices and pursuits, involving a radical revolution in his supreme life aims, purposes and
objects. Trench says: “Metanoia expresses that mighty change in mind, heart and life wrought by the
Spirit of God.” De Quincey: “Metanoia concealed a most profound meaning… which bore no allusion to any ideas whatever of repentance. ... It expresses a revolution of thought, a great intellectual
change in the accepting a new center for all moral truth from Christ…
This Metanoia, or radical reversal of life-controlling thoughts, affections, choices and pursuits, the
great theme of New Testament peaching, the high call and imperative demand of God. (Note that
this demand, like all others, has behind it God’s pledge of help and assurance of success.)12
Consequently, it should not come as a surprise that preaching and, more so, living a life of metanoia, is the calling of all Christians. However, as one can infer from the statistics with regard to the models of formation implemented in the United States, formation programs often relegate this important matter to a much lesser level of
importance. 13
This raises important questions: is this because of a lack of awareness of its importance or because of a lack of
practical approaches to form people along a path of conversion? Can conversion be taught? Perhaps we will
never fully understand the reasons why many RCIA “programs” do not consider metanoia to be a fundamental
element. However, it is necessary to explore ways for metanoia to have more of an active role in the formation
process within the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults.
The Journey to Christian Initiation
From the first article of the praenotanda and through its different sections, the RCIA makes explicit three key
points of which Christians should be aware with respect to the process of Christian initiation.
First, the Christian community has a key duty of kerygma (proclamation or preaching) not their own word, but
the word of God. “Indeed the primordial mission of the Church is to proclaim God and to be his witness before
the world. This involves making known the true face of God and his loving plan of salvation for man, as it has
been revealed in Jesus Christ.” 14 As the Epistle to the Romans says, “‘everyone who calls on the name of the
Lord will be saved.’ But how can they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how can they believe in
him of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone to preach?”15 Thus, sympathizers
11 James Glentworth Butler, Topical Analysis of the Bible: A Re-Statement of Its Moral and Spiritual Truths, Drawn Directly from the Inspired Text : Also
Containing a Subject-Index to “The Bible Work” (New York: Butler Bible Work Company, 1897), 344.
12 Butler, Topical Analysis, 443-444.
13 See: Dolly Sokol, “Parish Models of the RCIA,” Liturgical Ministry 15 (2006): 92.
14 Sacred Congregation for the Clergy, Directorium Generale pro Catechesi, (Vatican City: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1997), no. 23. http://www.vatican.
va/roman_curia/congregations/cclergy/documents/rc_con_ccatheduc_doc_17041998_directory-for-catechesis_en.html
15 Romans 10:13-14. Emphasis mine.
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(inquirers), come “after hearing the mystery of Christ proclaimed.”16 Also, Acts of the Apostles (8:26-39) exemplifies this proclamation action as part of a process of coming to know Christ. In this pericope, Philip encounters an
Ethiopian eunuch reading the Hebrew Scriptures. When Phillip asks him if he understands what he is reading, he
answers, “How can I, unless someone instructs me? ... Then Philip opened his mouth and, beginning with this
scripture passage, he proclaimed Jesus to him. As they traveled along the road, they came to some water… Philip
and the eunuch both went down into the water, and he baptized him.”17
Second, it is God, not the sympathizers, who initiates the process of the journey of initiation and the work of
metanoia. The sympathizers “consciously and freely seek the living God and enter the way of faith and conversion [i.e. metanoia] as the Holy Spirit opens their hearts.”18 In other words, this reiterates, “metanoȇiν
and metάnoiα... became the fixed and recognize words to express that mighty change in mind, heart, and life
wrought by the Spirit of God.”19 It is clear that God is in charge of starting the process. Finally, “By God’s help
they will be strengthened spiritually during their preparation and at the proper time will receive the sacraments
fruitfully.”20 This implies that God not only initiates the process, through the ministry of the church, and starts
the process of metanoia, but God is also the one who continues the process, and eventually gives God’s grace
(through the ministry of the church) to the individual being initiated.
Third, “The initiation of catechumens is a gradual process that takes place within the community of the faithful.”21
A good analogy for this process is that of a meal. If the meal were to consist of fast food, one could go to a drivethrough service in a restaurant, order burgers, and be out of there in a couple of minutes. On the other hand,
a banquet, prepared from scratch with fresh ingredients and in a careful way, will require time and effort. One
needs to prepare the ingredients, marinate the meats, cook the food for the proper amount of time, mix things at
the right moment, and sometimes set them to rest before serving them. What makes Christian formation unique
is that in the Christian banquet we always partake of the same meal: the body and blood of Christ.22 Those who
are coming to the banquet are not only asking to participate in the banquet, but to become themselves the main
course. Thus, it takes time to prepare. That transformation, metamorphosis, metanoia, will take time to happen,
even if God is the one preparing the banquet. Several scholars emphasize the gradual process of RCIA. As Jeffrey
M. Kemper indicates, “The insistence of certain scholars that the RCIA be referred to as a ‘process’ is not without
merit. The term ‘process’ recognizes the necessity of certain dynamics for conversion, but also recognizes that
these dynamics are not uniform in appearance, duration, or actualization.”23
This first step in the process is an initial act of faith. Faith is what allows the sympathizers to “consciously and
freely seek the living God,”24 for “Faith is the theological virtue by which we believe in God and believe all that
he has said and revealed to us.”25 To live in faith implies a deep conversion, because “Faith involves a change
of life, a ‘metanoia’, that is a profound transformation of mind and heart; it causes the believer to live that
conversion.”26 We can say that developing faith implies metanoia, because in this initial encounter, one dies to
16 Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults, (Chicago, IL: Liturgy Training Publications, 1988), no. 1. When section number of the numbering in the text
approved by the USCCB for use in the dioceses of the United States of America differs from the Editio Typica, the number of the latter will be
indicated in parenthesis.
17 Acts 8:31, 8;35, 8: 36, 8: 38.
18 RCIA, no. 1. Emphasis mine.
19 Richard Chenevix Trench, Synonyms of the New Testament, (London: MacMillan, 1880), Digitized by Ted Hildebrandt, (Wenham, MA: Gordon College, March 2006), 260. https://faculty.gordon.edu/hu/bi/ted_hildebrandt/new_testament_greek/text/trench-synonyms.pdf
22 John 6.
23 Jeffrey M. Kemper, “Paschal Mystery and the Sacraments of Initiation,” Liturgical Ministry 12 (2003): 165.
24 RCIA, no. 1.
25 Catechism of the Catholic Church (New York: Doubleday, 1995), no. 1814.
26 DGC, no. 55.
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disbelief in order to become a person of faith. Yet, the process of metanoia continues as the Spirit opens the
heart of the sympathizer, who eventually is able to show visible signs of conversion. These signs of conversion
open the door to discernment about becoming a catechumen.
From the pre-catechumenate onward, the church community has a great responsibility. The initial kerygma has
transformed as the sympathizers are being transformed. Thus, the initial kerygma is to evolve to a ministry of didaskalía (teaching), since “Catechesis is an essentially ecclesial act. The Church which, continuing the mission of
Jesus the Master and, therefore animated by the Holy Spirit, is sent to be the teacher of the faith.”27 The church
teaches as a mother, first by sharing the faith, which the church is living, and secondly, in an active reciprocal
way. Here, the church nourishes its members with the profession of faith (traditio), and the catechumens enrich
the church by giving back (redditio) the faith that was planted in them after it has germinated and grown in a
personal and inculturated way.28 Above all, we must keep into account that, as a church, our catechesis must always be “- éducation de la liberté plutôt qu’imposition autoritaire de la vérité ... [parce que] L’apôtre s’adresse
à l’âme, c’est l’âme qu’il change, sachant que tout le reste viendra par surcroît... C’est là ce qu’ont fait les
apôtres... Ils ont cherché à changer les cœurs, et une fois les cœurs changés, ils ont renouvelé le monde.”29
The idea of Catechesis as a labor of the whole community is not something new. Since the patristic times, the
church has worked as one body, not only when there were works of mercy to do, but also on Sunday celebrations. “Rather, the Sunday eucharist [sic] and work among the poor and others were seen as the inevitable
results of living in a communion of faith shared under the judgment of God’s word and in Jesus’s Spirit.”30 Thus,
the whole community was concerned with forming the new members. Their methodology was no other than
catechesis and initiation.31 But catechesis had a different focus than what comes to mind when we talk about
catechesis nowadays.
Catechesis was understood to be not about education but about conversion. Conversion was perceived to be not about doctrinal formulations but about faith as a way of living together in Jesus
Christ become a people. Initiation was known to be a whole sacramental sequence possessing its
own logic that was about membership — that is, full, active and conscious participation…In this view
the final cause of catechesis is not merely instruction: it is conversion therapy for membership.32
If one carries out catechesis properly, those formed by Christ for a longer time serve as a model for those who
have just come to an encounter with Christ. We learn Christian faith very much in the way in which we learn any
other human behavior, by a process of imitation of example. It is only in the context of being with the church,
body of Christ, that the catechumens can truly become body of Christ. This is to what Jeffrey M. Kemper was
referring by stating, “Through catechesis, theological reflection, and living in the midst of the Christian community—coming to know Catholic Christians, praying with them, acting with them—catechumens surrender to the
will of Christ that they be drawn into and conform to his paschal mystery.”33
27 DGC no. 78.
28 DGC, no. 78.
29 Abel Pasquier, “Lavigerie et le renouveau du catéchuménat (Lavigerie and The Renewal of the Catechumenate),” Bulletin de Littérature Ecclésiastique 95, no. 1 (1 January 1994): 97. ([An] education out of freedom rather than [an] authoritarian imposition of the truth… [because] The Apostle
speaks to the soul, it is the soul that changes, knowing that everything will come besides... This is what the apostles did... They sought to change
hearts, and once the hearts [were] changed, they renewed the world. (Translation mine.)
30 Aidan Kavanagh, “Norm of Baptism: The New Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults,” Worship 48, no. 3 (1 March, 1974): 51.
31 Kavanagh, “Norm of Baptism,” 151.
33 Kemper, ”Paschal Mystery,” 165.
46
Therefore, as the catechetical process continues, the community shapes catechumens to live a life of conversion,
because the community is indeed living such a life. Accordingly, when the community and the candidate discern
that the time is proper, that is after the first judgment34, the sympathizers go through the Rite of Acceptance into
the Order of Catechumens. The Rite of Acceptance marks the process of metanoia that began taking place, i.e.
the conversion from being a child of the world to becoming a child of the church. This is the first main station in
the process. It is the moment to choose a full engagement in the process of being truly shaped by the community. Allegorically, we can compare it to a process where parents have a foster child while the process of adoption
comes to completion. Even if the child is not yet a son or daughter, the child is open to the process of formation
of the family, and the family is open to form the child. Similarly, a catechumen is not yet a son or daughter of the
church in full membership, but the catechumen is already part of the family, and both, the catechumen is open
to the process of formation, and the community is open to form the catechumen.35
This is a moment of deep growth and conversion, the greatest period of transformation. Redemption is present
because catechumens accept Christ in their lives. However, Peter Fink notes:
Redemption exercise is then not only a transformation of consciousness, the gradual overcoming of
all other images by the images revealed by Christ. It is likewise, and more importantly, a transformation of affections and behavior. It takes time. It takes frequent doing (“exercise”). It takes openness
and a deep vulnerability to the doing. And the transformation can be measured, guided, and observed. ‘In the liturgy human sanctification is manifested by signs perceptible to the senses, and is
effected in a way which is proper to each of these signs’ (CSL, 7).36
Thus during the time of catechumenate the liturgies are an essential part of the process of formation. Although
liturgies of the word are primary and the blessing of Catechumens normally happens in the context of those
liturgies, “other rites may be celebrated to mark the passage of the catechumens from one level of catechesis
to another.”37 In this way, the liturgies not only become part of the journey of formation, but they are also the
stations or milestones that mark different stages in the process.
The liturgies are in themselves a process of formation and transformation. Peter Fink makes mention of the adage
from the scholastic era, “sacramenta significando efficiunt, that sacraments achieve their effect by signifying.”38
What I would like to suggest here is that we extend this notion to the liturgical rites of the RCIA, since as Sacrosanctum Concilium reminds us, “Christ is always present in His Church, especially in her liturgical celebrations.”39
Thus, we may also apply to the liturgies of the catechumenate the remarks Fink makes with respect to sacraments:
They place an image in our consciousness which takes its place alongside of other images, sometimes even conflicting images, of the same reality. It may be an image of who we are before God,
or in ourselves, or with each other. The images which… [liturgies] introduce to our consciousness
are privileged images, for they are rooted in the revelation of Jesus Christ. By our partaking of our…
34 RCIA, no. 121.
35 Second Vatican Council, Ad Gentes: Decree on the Mission Activity of the Church (1965), no. 14, http://www.vatican.va/archive/hist_councils/
ii_vatican_council/documents/vat-ii_decree_19651207_ad-gentes_en.html: Finally, the juridic status of catechumens should be clearly defined in
the new code of Canon law. For since they are joined to the Church, they are already of the household of Christ, and not seldom they are already
leading a life of faith, hope, and charity.
36 Peter E. Fink, “Living the Sacrifice of Christ,” Worship 59, no. 2 (1 March 1985): 138.
37 RCIA, no. 79.
38 Fink, “Living the Sacrifice,” 137.
39 Second Vatican Council, Sacrosanctum Concilium (1963), no. 7, http://www.vatican.va/archive/hist_councils/ii_vatican_council/documents/vatii_const_19631204_sacrosanctum-concilium_en.html.
47
[liturgies], we allow those images to be planted in our consciousness in the deep hope that they will
become the only, or at least the primary, operational images for our life.… The planting is the beginning of conversion, a seeding for the transformation which God wishes to work in us.40
However, this great process of transformation should by no means be limited to those preparing to be Christians.
God calls us to live the Paschal mystery in our lives day after day, for there is always one more step to take in the
path of conversion. The mysteries we celebrate are not only the death and resurrection of Christ as a historical
event disconnected from us. “For humanity the paschal mystery is a conversion: a passing over from sin to grace,
from alienation to reconciliation, from being ‘no people’ to being God’s people. With these points in mind, we
can examine the relationship of the paschal mystery to the sacraments of initiation.”41 Thus in the great vigil,
when the catechumens come to be submerged in the waters of the death of Christ, we renew too our own dying
and rising. Consequently, together we can say, “We were indeed buried with him through baptism into death,
so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live in newness of life.”42
Perhaps at this point the question is “and then what?” The answer is very simple: Now the catechumens become
neophytes, and go through further catechesis (mystagogy), according to the RCIA, for the 50 days of Easter. After
a person finishes initial mystagogy, the person is not a neophyte anymore. From that point on, typically one understands the person to be a fully developed Christian. However, I want to propose a different perspective: After
initial mystagogy, as a neophyte, the person becomes a Christian initiate. The Oxford English Dictionary defines
an initiate as “A person who has been initiated… Hence, A beginner, a novice.”43 Therefore, as initiates, Christians
have the challenge of engaging in a constant path of conversion, i.e. metanoia. The new Christian and hopefully
all Christians are moving along this path of conversion, all as beginners and newcomers, as initiates. When does
one become a full-fledged Christian? That is simple; it happens when the formation is completed. The culmination happens when the heart and mind of that person have gone through so much change, that their hearts and
minds are identical to the heart and mind of Christ. Undeniably, that is the goal of every true Christian: to think
as free and without judgment as Christ thinks, to learn to love as limitlessly as Christ loves. However, for that
to happen, one must go through an intense metanoia that might last more years than those for which one can
account.
Now that we have ascertained the central role of metanoia in the process of formation for Christian initiation
and its relationship to the liturgical celebrations, we can turn to look at the process as a whole. Though parish
communities may take different approaches, it is important to keep in mind that, regardless of the model that
one uses to implement the process of formation, metanoia must be at its core.
Models and Approaches
As an introduction to considering different models of the RCIA process, let us look at the important remarks
Cañardo Ramírez makes with respect to the RCIA process, which speak to the significance of three elements
highlighted in nearly every model: tradition, progressiveness of the process, and liturgies.
•“Sigue la estructura del catecumenado de los primeros siglos (It follows the structure of the catechumenate of the first centuries).”
40 Fink, “Living the Sacrifice,” 137-138.
41 Kemper, “Paschal Mystery,” 164.
42 Romans 6:4.
43 Oxford English Dictionary, 2nd ed., s.v. “Initiate.” http://www.oed.com/view/Entry/96065?rskey=KbSuQ7&result=1#eid
48
•“Propon[e] para los adultos que desean recibir el bautismo un itinerario progresivo (It intends, for
adults who wish to receive baptism, a progressive journey).”
•“Los ritos que les acompañan, procedentes también de la iglesia primitiva, los sostienen interiormente en su camino hacia el bautismo, mediante la gracia de Dios que reciben en estas celebraciones (The rites that accompany them, also originating from the early church, innerly support them in
their route toward baptism, through the grace of God which they receive in these celebrations).”44
Models Based on Qualitative Characteristics
As we look at the models of RCIA formation, we can differentiate between two different approaches. One of
these is an approach that seeks certain qualitative characteristics in the process. James Dunning describes one
of these models of RCIA formation. In his perspective, the four periods in the RCIA provide a proper space not
only for those in formation for initiation but also for all members of the community.45 In his approach, he interprets the four periods as a set of alternating movements, going inward toward introspection and meditation, and
outward toward the community:
The process begins with autobiography, sharing our personal pilgrimage... This leads to… a search
for the meaning and significance of our lives. Second, that prompts reflection upon the biographies
and faith of the Christian community to discern whether or not the Good News of Jesus’ story and
the journeys of his followers bring depth and help people interpret their own pilgrimage. Third,
each person asks the question, “Is the Good News truly Good News for me?” This is the moment of
personal faith and turning to the Lord… Fourth, if I discern God’s presence in my journey… that leads
to Eucharist… and also to sharing the Good News with others by Christian witness and ministry.46
James Dunning suggests that, from these four stages of RCIA, we take seven imperatives, which will foster an
environment in which “all Christians may enter more deeply into the life of the Lord and ‘build a new life.’”47
1. Let there be storytelling.— The dynamic of telling and listening allows for the building of relationships, both among individuals and between individuals and the church. (Autobiography/sharing of personal pilgrimage plays a special role in this imperative.)
2. Let there be questioning.—Questions are primordial in engaging processes of inquiry, discernment,
and search for meaning.
3. Let there be communities of faith—Means of support, formation, and encouragement at many
levels.
4. Let there be tradition.—To ground us and give stability to the journey.
5. Let there be conversion.—Which, as addressed above, is primordial to Christian life.
6. Let there be celebration.—To discover and rejoice in the gifts received from God.
7. Let there be ministries.—To strengthen the bonds of charity and service among the members of the
community and share the received from God.
44 Ramírez, “Nueva experiencia de evangelización,” 722.
45 James B. Dunning, “Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults: Model of Adult Growth,” Worship 53, no. 2 (1 March 1979): 143.
46 Ramírez, “Nueva experiencia de evangelización,” 143. Emphasis mine, added to highlight the inner and outer movements.
47 Ramírez, “Nueva experiencia de evangelización,” 144. These seven imperatives appear throughout Dunning (144-156) with extensive explanations.
49
Though at a theoretical level it is easy to identify how all of these elements are present in the process of formation of the RCIA, when it comes to the practice of implementation, things differ significantly; thus, we have very
different models of formation in the RCIA process.
Comparably, John J. O’Brien proposes a different way of looking at the RCIA process. In “Hearts Prepared and
Renewed: Conversion in the Community of the Church,” O’Brien makes an analysis of different models that communities who implement RCIA formation use. He relates the diversity of models to different forms of baptismal
spirituality, identifying seven main types:
1. Conversional-eschatological—baptism considered as a sign of eschatological renewal after an evident conversion.
2. Celebrational—celebrates the victory of Christ in the baptized; “passionate in its poetry of exultation and its sense of victory.”
3. Moralistic—emphasizes a strong moral instruction and meticulous scrutiny prior to baptism.
4. Juridical—“derives its strength from the seriousness with which it takes the church. Baptism… is a
function of a community”
5. Mystical-Metaphysical—baptism as the zenith of the journey of unification of the human heart,
mystery, and grace. The baptized share the light and glory of Christ.
6. Relational—expresses a personal relationship with Christ.
7. Social—“Baptism incorporates ‘converts’ into the Christian community.”48
O’Brien points out that, consciously or unconsciously, Christian communities embrace one or more of these
types of baptismal spirituality to envision, to understand, and to give meaning to their image of community and
baptism.49 We must ask, however, if any particular community can say to have a full sense of what baptism is and
a sense of integral catechetical formation without having a wholesome balance of the seven types. After all, it is
evident by the information discussed above, that a true process of metanoia will elicit revolution in all of those
areas.
Conversely, Jeffery M. Kemper presents a model that poses what he considers the six elements of RCIA that permit the person to enter into a participation of the paschal mystery as a reality in which to become incorporated.50
The last of the six elements that he presents have two different components: a connection to a larger spiritual
tradition, and a connection to a larger participation in the ministry of Christ. Therefore, this study lists the last of
these as two distinctive elements, even if closely related. In Kemper’s assessment, these are the main distinctive
elements of the RCIA:
1. It is holistic—intends to foster a metanoia of mind, heart and will to the saving work of Jesus Christ,
not as an intellectual labor, but involving the entire self.
2. Effects and manifests the work of Christ through his Church—one enters the paschal mystery being
drawn by Christ and through his body, the Church.
48 John J. O’Brien, “Hearts Prepared and Renewed : Conversion in the Community of the Church,” Liturgical Ministry 15 (2006): 66–68.
49 O’Brien, “Hearts Prepared and Renewed,” 68.
50
3. Recognizes metanoia into the Paschal mystery as a process—“a mysterious and complex action of
God and the individual,” taking into account personal freedom in context of life.
4. Employs ritual elements—“to acknowledge growth and development and to spur the catechumen
on to the goal of life in Christ.”
5. Keeps the focus of formation on the paschal mystery—by celebrating initiations in the context of
the Easter Vigil with all its symbols and preferably doing baptism by immersion.
6. Insisting on the unity of the Rite of Initiation—manifests the full spectrum of the paschal mystery
from the Passion to Pentecost.
7. Illumines our experience in light of the Pascal mystery—in the waters of baptism, the neophytes
become united forever to the life of Christ in the context of the sacramental and existential life of the
Church and its individual members.51
Kemper concludes his analysis of elements by pointing out that “neophytes are gifted with the Holy Spirit for the
purpose of living the received mystery. By their own efforts alone this would be impossible, but through a new
and irrevocable relationship with the Spirit this is quite achievable, since ‘with God, all things are possible,’”52
which is highly important for all Christians. As mentioned before, God initiates, the process of metanoia continues working with those who chose to open themselves to such conversion, and God bestows the ability to live
the received mysteries as well. This perception makes evident that Christians can only partake of the Eucharistic
prayer, in which, by giving praise and thanks, they celebrate their calling, duty, and grace to be in the journey of
metanoia, if they do so “Through him [Christ], and with him, and in him.”53 Understandably, in this context, the
only proper response of a Christian to that prayer is a “Great Amen.”
Comparison of the Models Based of Qualitative Characteristics
When set next to one another and rearranged according to characteristics of each subdivision presented by
these authors, we notice that, even if the focus of each is very different, they all touch on some of the same basic
aspects of Christian formation. Whether the model came from the paradigm of the imperatives in Genesis, from
study of different baptismal spiritualties, or a dismantling of the RICA, these models bring in the key elements of
metanoia, emphasis on community, introspection, inquiry/search for meaning, celebration/acknowledgement
of relevant moments, connection to spiritual tradition, and service.
51 Kemper, “Paschal Mystery,” 165-166.
53 Congregation for Divine Worship, “Ordo Missae,” Missale Romanum, Editio typica tertia, (2002), nos. 98, 106, 114,123. See also, The Book of Common Prayer and Administration of the Sacraments and Other Rites and Ceremonies of the Church together with The Psalter or Psalms of David
according to use in the Episcopal Church in the United States (New York: Seabury Press, 1979), 363, 403, 405.
51
Models
Common
Characteristics

Metanoia
Emphasis on Community
Dunning’s Imperatives Model
5. Conversion
3. Communities of
Faith
Introspective: Focus on the
relationship between the indi- 1. Storytelling
vidual and God
O’Brien’s Baptismal
Spirituality Model
Kemper’s RCIA Elements Model
1. Conversional-eschatological
1. Is holistic (metanoia
of mind, heart and
will)
4. Juridical
2. Effects and manifests the work of
Christ through his
Church
6. Relational
3. Recognizes metanoia into the Paschal
mystery as a process
Inquiry/search for meaning
2. Questioning
3. Moralistic
5. Keeps the focus of
formation on the paschal mystery
Celebration/acknowledgment
of relevant moments
6. Celebration
2. Celebrational
4. Employs ritual elements
Connection to spiritual tradition
4. Tradition
5. Mystical-Metaphysical
6. Insists on the unity
of the Rite of Initiation
Service
7. Ministries
7. Social
7. Illumines our experience in light of the
Pascal mystery
Rather than addressing these elements as characteristics that one uses to explain or develop a particular spirituality or emphasis in formation, as suggested by O’Brian, a better approach would be for RCIA formation communities to strive to develop all of them. Likewise, rather than seeing them as characteristics that could be present or not, we should treat them as an organic body composed of those members. Thus, if there is deficiency
in one or more of them, the rest will suffer, too. On the other hand, being strong on one of them will also help
strengthen the others. The same rationale applies to changes in any of them. It would be difficult to think that
a community that has grown significantly in celebration/acknowledgement of relevant moments, for example,
would be a community deficient in the other areas. If that were the case, there would be no reason to celebrate.
All seven elements work as a unit.
Models Based on Quantitative Characteristics
Another approach to the study of RCIA models of formation is by quantitative characteristics. As an example, the
work of Dolly Sokol presents a set of different models based on timing. Although she does include qualitative
aspects of the models that she examines, she differentiates the models mainly by the duration of the formation
process. The following synoptic table will allow us to compare side by side the different models that Sokol represents in “Parish Models of the RCIA.” 54
54 Sokol, “Parish Models,” 87–94.
52
School
• Primary model of
RCIA in the United
States
• 9-month process
• Inquiry—late August
or September
Characteristics
• Initiation on Easter
• Sessions are clearly
seen as ongoing religious education for
adults
Lectionary-based
Year-round
Apprenticeship
• Prevalent in the United States • Ongoing process of
initiation
• Based on lectionary
• Catechumenate plus
• Flows from Church’s unpurification-enlightenment
derstanding of role of sacred
lasts for at least one full
Scripture
year
• Primarily deals with formation during the period of
the catechumenate
• Catechesis after the Sunday
dismissal of catechumens; may
include another session in the
week
• The apprentice is with
them doing what they do,
asking questions, reflecting with them on why they
do this or that
• The focus of both sessions is
Sunday Scriptures
• Catechumens reflect on
God’s word, and search out
images, thoughts or feelings
they evoke
• The apprentice is mentored by the community of
believers
• Practitioners of this
model would be especially
careful in discerning the
spiritual formation needs
of those who inquire as not
to assume that all need to
begin at the same place.
• Ongoing process of
inquiry, growth, and conversion
• May reflect on an aspect of
Catholic teaching manifest in
the Scriptures
• Ongoing relationship of
the catechumen, not just
with the RCIA team, not
just with their parish sponsor, but with the whole
community
• Catechists lead people
to become believers, community members, prayers,
and kingdom builders by
having them do all of those
during their formation
• Stages of the catechumenal
process are not specifically
defined
• May follow the “school”
model—entire process done in
6-9 months
• May follow a fuller model of
RCIA
• Intellectual learning
• Dialogical method
Focus
• Open-ended questioning is a
primary tool
• Transforming inquirers
into leader-disciples in its
understanding and utilization of appropriate lectionary-based catechesis
• Committed to developing
all four pillars of the catechumenate (RCIA, 75)
53
Based on:
• Ad Gentes no. 14: “…
not… expounding of doctrines and precepts, but a
training... For...Christian
life… during which disciples are joined to Christ
their teacher”
• Question in the rite of
election: “have they given
evidence of their conversion by the example of
their lives?”
School
Advantages
• Efficient to manage,
quick to get through,
and tries to inflict as
little pain as possible
Lectionary-based
• Offers adults opportunity to
participate in their spiritual
growth and learning
• Values their history and
experience and gives them a
chance to put them into dialogue with the Scripture
Year-round
Apprenticeship
• Parish has in place the
system and structures to
support and sustain the
faith journeys of inquirers, catechumens, and
neophytes in a continuous
uninterrupted manner
• Catechumens learn to
connect the teachings of
the Scriptures and the
Church with the lived experience
• Experience can be
a strong conversation
partner in the process of
Christian formation
• Can give ongoing experiences of theological reflection
that may lead to conversion
and apostolic activity
School
Lectionary-based
• Seldom encompass- • May become a Scripturees nine months
sharing session
Common Assumptions
Disadvantages
• Little opportunity
for the catechumens
to discern if they are
ready for initiation
• Everyone says what they
think or feel about the Scriptures.
• Insights shared from catechumen’s understanding of Scripture may differ from Catholic
beliefs or teachings, but in the
• Untimely inquirers
interest of acceptance, their unhave to wait until “pro- derstanding is not transformed
gram” restarts
by Catholic theological and
scriptural teaching.
•Falls short of expectations of the RCIA
• Facilitators may be trained in
(1-8) and Christian
listening and relationship-buildvision of discipleship. ing skills, but not sufficiently
trained catechesis
• Sessions are not
lectionary-based
• “Let’s not waste
people’s time.”
• “The Scriptures are the heart
of our belief.”
• “All they need to
know is what makes
Catholics different.”
• “We must listen to people
seeking to become Catholic,
not challenge them.”
• “We don’t have
many people to do
this ministry, so let’s
not burn them out.”
Year-round
Apprenticeship
• It can be a bit messy,
with people starting all
year long (messiness
is foreseen in the RCIA
“nothing, therefore, can
be settled a priori” – no.
76 (20))
•If catechumens take involvement without mentoring and think of it as social
service, it becomes an
adult high school confirmation project
• During Lent has three
groups running simultaneously: inquiry, catechumenate, and purification and
enlightenment
• “People learn how to be
Catholic by practicing what
Catholics do.”
• “We must respect and
respond to the inquirer
when God’s grace moves
them to approach us.”
• “We need to form disciples, not apologists.”
• “The journey of spiritual
conversion is gradual and
takes as long as it takes.”
• “We need to be flexible
so that we will not force
people to take a step that
they are not ready to take.”
54
• “Adults learn best when
they are able to ‘do’ and
not just ‘listen’.”
A word on Models Based on Quantitative Characteristics
First, we must note that a process restricted by a margin of time stops being a process. To be more specific, a
spiritual process that is working under a calendar, a clock, or even an hourglass, becomes a program and not a
process. This directly affects the progress of conversion. Although, some people may say they like changes, in
actuality, consciously or unconsciously, most people would fight against change. Change takes the person out
of their comfort zone to places they do not want to go. If people avoid change in general, the will more so avoid
metanoia.
It is difficult to tell what drives communities to take the shortest possible route when it comes to processes of
spiritual formation. If, in any given parish, the main concern is making things the easiest possible and for that
reason they use the School model, that means their “program” will have people in the “classroom” between 48
and 72 hours, supposing they meet for two hours every week for six to nine months. There is no doubt that they
will cover a substantial amount of doctrinal material, and some of the people they have in the “program” may
even get to learn most, if not all, of it. However, if the point of catechesis is to cover information, why not have
them attend all day during the Saturdays of Lent, and baptize them at the Easter Vigil? Quick and easy! Very likely
more people would attend that type of program; after all, they only have to sacrifice Saturdays for no more than
six consecutive weeks.
There is only one reason to avoid this kind of approach: we have no control over conversion processes. We
cannot decide when a person will be ready, and we cannot control a process of metanoia, mainly because the
first thing that a metanoia demands is to let go of control and fully surrender to the will of God. Neither can we
pretend to have control over God as to say, “Hey, God, it’s October. You better stop calling people to start in the
Christian path because registrations will not open again until June.” Thus, we must continue asking: What is our
main goal in the RCIA process? Is our main goal to teach doctrine? Is our main goal to provide a comfortable
academic curriculum? Is our main goal to create the space for the possibility that a person will start a process
of conversion and hope that after baptism the person will engage in a process of ongoing transformation? Is
our main goal as a community to help participants to come and mature until they have a deep relationship with
Christ that leads them to a true conversion of life?
Conclusion
As they embark in the process of Christian initiation welcoming newcomers to the faith, parish communities
must be very careful in the way they bring to fruition this process. Though it may seem unimportant, the difference between a well-done RCIA formation process and a mediocrely done program is a matter of life and death.
While one offers a path to a full transformation by engaging in a process of death and rebirth at many levels, the
other one offers the opportunity of participating in a set of liturgies that would have a spiritual impact, but for
the most part would go unperceived at any other level. Thus, metanoia plays a crucial role that one must not
disregard or hinder in any way, including restrictions in the time given to the process.
One can approach in many different ways the topic of the formation process for those journeying toward Christian Initiation. Nonetheless, the RCIA denotes that those who undertake the journey will engage and continue in
a process of conversion that will reshape those who participate in it full-heartedly.
Among the different models to implement the process of the RCIA, some are more conductive to metanoia. One
can evaluate the quality of these models by analyzing the degree in which the process incorporates the following
elements that will foster a process of ongoing growth and awareness:
55
1. Recognizing the role and significance of metanoia in the process
2. Giving emphasis to community
3. Cultivating introspection/self awareness
4. Nurturing inquiry/search for meaning
5. Having an aptness to celebrate/acknowledge relevant moments
6. Cherishing the connection to spiritual tradition
7. Fostering a spirit of service to others
Finally, we should take into account that having a clear vision of the intention of the formation process is a very
significant factor in its success and effectiveness. Thus, establishing priorities both at personal and community
levels is very important. If teaching doctrine is a priority above metanoia, it is a good indication of the urgent
need for metanoia in our own lives. After all, there are people in the world with doctoral degrees in Christian/
Catholic studies who know everything there is to know about doctrine, yet they are not Christians. Without a
full, conscious, and active participation in a process of conversion in the context of a community of faith, knowing all about doctrine will not make a person become a Christian any more than knowing all about gymnastics
will make a person who never exercises become a gymnast.
56
Artículo
Iniciación cristiana: Un asunto de vida y muerte
por Jaime Bernardo Ávila-Borunda
P
Fuimos, pues, con él sepultados por el bautismo en la muerte, a fin de que, al igual que Cristo fue
resucitado de entre los muertos por medio de la gloria del Padre, así también nosotros vivamos una
vida nueva. Porque si nos hemos hecho una misma cosa con él por una muerte semejante a la suya,
también lo seremos por una resurrección semejante.1
or mucho que estas palabras puedan sonarle alegóricas e incluso hiperbólicas al cristiano contemporáneo, estas contienen la esencia, no solo de la iniciación cristiana, sino de la vida cristiana en general. La
vida cristiana es un continuo camino marcado por un proceso de muertes y resurrecciones. Como el título
de este ensayo lo indica, la iniciación cristiana es un asunto de vida y muerte. Nuestras vidas, aún al nivel más
secular, son vividas moviéndose constantemente en un sendero de evolución con muchos hitos. Procedemos
por el sendero de eventos que transcurren en un año para llegar al hito del cumpleaños, por el sendero de la
educación para llegar a la graduación, por el sendero del cortejo para llegar al matrimonio, y por el sendero de la
vida para llegar a la muerte. Constantemente nos envolvemos en una serie de procesiones y estaciones porque
una inclinación litúrgica es parte de la naturaleza humana. “This anthropology is deeply embodied in the actual
physicality of human personhood and embedded in the social context of human relatedness”2, observan Strawn
and Yoon.
Cuando hablamos sobre educación, y en particular cuando nos referimos a formación en la fe, esta antropología
juega un papel crucial. Si uno aborda la formación como una simple tarea intelectual, difícilmente triunfará. En
las palabras de K. A. Smith,
On this account, educational strategies that traffic only with ideas often fail actually to educate; that
is, they fail to form people. …we are, ultimately, liturgical animals because we are fundamentally
desiring creatures. We are what we love, and our love is shaped, primes, and aimed by liturgical
practices that take hold of our gut and aim our heart to certain ends, so we are not primarily homo
rationale or homo faber or homo economicus; we are not even generically homo religiosis. We are
more concretely homo liturgicus; humans are those animals that are religious animals not because
1 Rom 6, 4-5 (Nueva Biblia de Jerusalén).
2 Brad D. Strawn and Hammer Miyoung Yoon, “Spiritual Formation through Direction at Fuller Theological Seminary School of Psychology (Formación spiritual a través de dirección en la Facultad de Psicología del Seminario Teológico Fuller)” Journal of Psychology & Christianity 32, no.
4 (Winter 2013): 306. “Esta antropología está profundamente encarnada en el mismo carácter físico de la condición humana e incrustada en el
contexto social de habilidad de los humanos para relacionarse”. Todas las traducciones de inglés son mías.
57
we are primarily believing animals, but because we are liturgical animals—embodied, practicing
creatures whose love/desire is aimed at something ultimate.3
Precisamente “no porque seamos primeramente animales creyentes, sino porque somos animales litúrgicos—
creaturas encarnadas, practicantes, cuyo amor/deseo apunta hacia algo que es el máximo fin”4, esas mismas
características de encarnación, práctica y amor/deseo de algo que sea el máximo fin deben ser el núcleo de
nuestra formación cristiana. En el contexto de la vida cristiana, este tipo de formación nos lleva a un proceso de
muerte y resurrección, un proceso el cual todos los cristianos estamos llamados a encarnar, vivir y pasarlo a las
generaciones futuras. Por lo tanto, inspirados por el llamado a dar a otros lo que hemos recibido, 5 este ensayo
pretende abordar el flujo litúrgico de procesiones y estaciones, muerte y resurrección, en el contexto de la formación como parte del Rito de Iniciación Cristiana de Adultos (RICA), y explorará algunas de las implicaciones
que esta noción plantea al ministerio pastoral a través de un análisis de algunos de los modelos de formación
usados en los Estados Unidos en la Actualidad.
Formación
La senda litúrgica de la vida cristiana es una senda de constante conversión. Cuando hablamos de procesiones y
estaciones en la vida, raramente hablamos de ir por la vida sin ningún cambio. No tendría sentido celebrar un
cumpleaños si no hubiera crecimiento, aprendizaje, o maduración a cierto nivel. De la misma manera, en la vida
Cristiana, hay una necesidad de crecimiento, aprendizaje y maduración constantes. Este es un proceso de morir
constantemente al antiguo ego, para acoger una nueva forma de ser. Podemos decir que ser cristiano demanda
un compromiso constante a una metamorfosis, “un proceso de muerte iniciática, en el que se abandona lo anterior para vivir algo nuevo” 6, en el lenguaje del Nuevo Testamento, “μετἀνοια” (metanoia).
En el proceso de la iniciación cristiana, esta metanoia es vital para tener buenos resultados, como lo indica Santiago Cañardo Ramírez:
El itinerario que se recorre en el bautismo de adultos es un proceso de muerte iniciática, en el que
se abandona lo anterior para vivir algo nuevo: un nuevo nacimiento, por el que se acepta en la fe
una vida y un sentido nuevo, dado por el descubrimiento de un Dios real, que en Cristo nos salva,
nos hace salir de la muerte a la vida, y nos incorpora a la Iglesia como comunidad de redimidos, de
hombres nuevos, que viven el mandamiento del amor. 7
Además nos recuerda que este proceso no es solamente un asunto didáctico, sino una inmersión existencial,
i.e. un proceso gradual, como lo indican los sagrados ritos que acompañan el proceso: “El rito de entrada, la
elección y los escrutinios, el rito bautismal y la mistagogia [sic] posterior significan y realizan la adhesión y vin3 James K. A. Smith, Desiring the Kingdom: Worship, Worldview, and Cultural Formation (Deseando el reino: culto, cosmovisión y formación cultural) (Cultural Liturgies), Volume 1, (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2009) 39-40. “Considerando esto, las estrategias educativas que trafican
únicamente ideas, de hecho, a menudo fracasan en educar; es decir, fracasan en formar personas. …somos, ultimadamente, animales litúrgicos
porque somos fundamentalmente creaturas que desean. Somos lo que amamos, y nuestro amor es moldeado, preparado y apuntado por prácticas
litúrgicas que se asen de nuestras entrañas y apuntan nuestro corazón hacia ciertos fines, así que no somos primeramente homo rationale ni homo
faber ni homo economicus; no somos ni siquiera genéricamente homo religiosis. Somos más concretamente homo liturgicus; los humanos son esos
animales que son animales religiosos no porque seamos primeramente animales creyentes, sino porque somos animales litúrgicos—creaturas
encarnadas, practicantes, cuyo amor/deseo apunta hacia algo que es el máximo fin”.
4 Smith, Desiring the Kingdom, 40.
5 1 Cor 15, 3-11.
6 Santiago Cañardo Ramírez, “Nueva Experiencia de Evangelización: La Preparación de Adultos Para El Bautismo”, Scripta Theologica 44, no. 3 (1
Diciembre 2012): 723.
7 Ramírez, “Nueva Experiencia de Evangelización,” 723.
58
culación afectiva y efectiva a Cristo, la conversión y el cambio real del corazón y la vida, la inmersión vivencial en
el misterio de Cristo y la introducción plena en la comunidad eclesial” 8.
Μετἀνοια
Ya que este “proceso de iniciación por la muerte, en el que se abandona el pasado para vivir algo nuevo” 9 es
crucial para la vida cristiana, hago aquí una breve digresión del tema de formación para hablar acerca de la palabra metanoia (μετἀνοια), la cual procede del griego μετά (metá—más allá) + νοῦς/νόος (noüs/nóos—mente,
percepción, entendimiento). En el nuevo testamento esta palabra aparece 56 veces en sus distintas formas.
Aunque algunas veces este término se traduce como “arrepentimiento”, metanoia es mucho más que arrepentimiento, como lo indica James Glentworth Buttler, metanoia es “one of the most significant and vital words of
Inspiration”10 en el Nuevo Testamento, yuxtaponiendo que en su verdadero significado metanoia
...no trace of sorrow or regret, no single element contained in the word Repentance. Hence its translation by that word has been, from the first until now, an utter mistranslation… Literally, the word
signifies Change of Mind, a change in the trend and action of the whole inner nature, intellectual,
affectional and moral, of the man, a reversal of his controlling estimates and judgments, desires and
affections, choices and pursuits, involving a radical revolution in his supreme life aims, purposes and
objects. Trench says: “Metanoia expresses that mighty change in mind, heart and life wrought by the
Spirit of God.” De Quincey: “Metanoia concealed a most profound meaning… which bore no allusion to any ideas whatever of repentance. ... It expresses a revolution of thought, a great intellectual
change in the accepting a new center for all moral truth from Christ…
This Metanoia, or radical reversal of life-controlling thoughts, affections, choices and pursuits, the
great theme of New Testament peaching, the high call and imperative demand of God. (Note that
this demand, like all others, has behind it God’s pledge of help and assurance of success.)11
Consecuentemente, no debe sorprendernos que predicar y, en mayor medida, vivir una vida de metanoia, es
el llamado de todos los cristianos. Sin embargo, como se puede inferir en base a las estadísticas de modelos de
formación implementados en los Estados Unidos, los programas de formación a menudo relegan este asunto tan
importante a un nivel de importancia menor. 12
8 Ramírez, “Nueva Experiencia de Evangelización,” 723-724.
9 Ramírez, “Nueva Experiencia de Evangelización,” 723.
10 James Glentworth Butler, Topical Analysis of the Bible: A Re-Statement of Its Moral and Spiritual Truths, Drawn Directly from the Inspired Text : Also
Containing a Subject-Index to “The Bible Work” (Análisis temático de la Biblia: Una reafirmación de sus verdades morales y espirituales, extraídas
directamente del texto inspirado: También conteniendo un índice de “El trabajo de la Biblia”) (New York: Butler Bible Work Company, 1897), 344
http://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=nnc1.cr60042729. “una de las palabras de inspiración más significativas y vitales”.
11 Ibíd., 443-444. “…no [hay] rastro de pena ni ningún elemento singular contenido en la palabra arrepentimiento. Por lo tanto su traducción con
esta palabra ha sido, desde el principio hasta ahora, un total error de traducción… literalmente. La palabra significa cambio de mente un cambio
en el modo y acción de la totalidad de la naturaleza interior, intelectual, afectiva y moral, del hombre, una reversión de sus controladores juicios
y sugestiones, deseos y afectos, elecciones y metas, que implica una revolución radical en sus más altos objetivos de vida, propósitos y objetos.
Trench dice: Metanoia expresa ese poderoso cambio de mente, corazón y vida hecho por el Espíritu de Dios.” De Quincey: “Metanoia escondía
un significado profundísimo… el cual no contenía ninguna alusión a ideas de arrepentimiento. … Expresa una revolución de pensamiento, un gran
cambio intelectual en la aceptación de un nuevo núcleo para toda la verdad moral de Cristo…
Esta Metanoia, o reversión radical de los pensamientos, afectos, elecciones, y propósitos que controlan la vida, el gran tema de la predicación del
Nuevo Testamento, el gran llamado y demanda imperativa de Dios. (Nótese que esta demanda, como todas las demás, tiene como respaldo la
promesa de la ayuda de Dios y la seguridad de alcanzar el triunfo.)”
12 v. Dolly Sokol, “Parish Models of the RICA (Modelos Parroquiales del RICA)”, Liturgical Ministry 15 (2006): 92.
59
Esto hace surgir preguntas importantes: ¿Sucede esto por falta de conciencia de su importancia, o falta de estrategias prácticas para formar a las personas en un camino de conversión? ¿La conversión, se puede enseñar?
Quizá nunca comprenderemos plenamente las razones por las que muchos “programas” de RICA no consideran
que la metanoia sea un elemento fundamental. No obstante, es necesario explorar maneras para que la metanoia tenga un papel más activo en el proceso de formación del Rito de Iniciación Cristiana de Adultos.
El camino de la iniciación cristiana
Desde el primer artículo de los praenotanda y a lo largo de sus diferentes secciones, el RICA hace explícitos tres
puntos clave de los que los cristianos deben estar conscientes en cuanto a la iniciación cristiana.
Primeramente, la comunidad cristiana tienen un deber clave de kerigma (proclamación o predicación) no de su
propia palabra sino, de la palabra de Dios. “La misión primordial de la Iglesia, en efecto, es anunciar a Dios, ser
testimonio de El [sic] ante el mundo. Se trata de dar a conocer el verdadero rostro de Dios y su designio de amor
y de salvación en favor de los hombres, tal como Jesús lo reveló”13. Como dice la Epístola a los Romanos: “Pues
todo el que invoque el nombre del Señor se salvará. Pero ¿cómo invocarán a aquel en quien no han creído?
¿Cómo creerán en aquel a quien no han oído? ¿Cómo oirán sin que se les predique?” 14 Por lo tanto, los precatecúmenos, vienen “al oír el anuncio del misterio de Cristo”15. También, Hechos de los Apóstoles (8, 26 – 8, 39)
ejemplifica esta proclamación como parte de un proceso para llegar a conocer a Cristo. En esta perícopa, Felipe
encuentra un eunuco etíope leyendo las escrituras hebreas, cuando Felipe le pregunta si comprende lo que está
leyendo, él el responde, “«¿Cómo lo puedo entender si nadie me hace de guía?» Y rogó a Felipe que subiese y se
sentase con él… Felipe entonces, partiendo de este texto de la Escritura, se puso a anunciarle la Buena Nueva
de Jesús. Siguiendo el camino llegaron a un sitio donde había agua. El eunuco dijo: «Aquí hay agua; ¿qué impide
que yo sea bautizado?» Y mandó detener el carro. Bajaron ambos al agua, Felipe y el eunuco; y lo bautizó”16.
Segundamente, es Dios, no los precatecúmenos, quien inicia el proceso del camino de la iniciación y el trabajo
de metanoia. Los precatecúmenos “bajo la acción del Espíritu Santo en sus corazones, consciente y libre mente
buscan al Dios vivo y emprenden el camino de la fe y de la conversión [i.e. metanoia]”17. En otras palabras, esto
reitera que “metanoȇiν and metάnoiα... became the fixed and recognize words to express that mighty change
in mind, heart, and life wrought by the Spirit of God” 18. Es claro que Dios está a cargo de comenzar el proceso.
Finalmente, “Con la ayuda de Dios se les provee de la ayuda espiritual para su preparación y para la recepción
fructuosa de los sacramentos en el momento oportuno”19. Esto implica que Dios no solamente inicia el proceso,
a través del ministerio de la iglesia, y comienza el proceso de metanoia, sino que Dios es también el que continúa
el proceso, y a la larga da su gracia (por el ministerio de la iglesia) para que el individuo sea iniciado.
13 Congregación para el Clero, Directorium Generale pro Catechesi, (Ciudad del Vaticano: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1997), no. 23. http://www.vatican.
va/roman_curia/congregations/cclergy/documents/rc_con_ccatheduc_doc_17041998_directory-for-catechesis_sp.html.
14 Rom 10, 13-14. Énfasis mío.
15 Rito de la Iniciación Cristiana de Adultos. (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, Chicago, IL: Liturgy Training Publications, and Washington D.C.: USCCB,
1993), no. 1. Cuando el número de la sección en la que se encuentra en la edición aprobada para uso en las diócesis de los EE.UU. difiera de la editio
typica, el número de esta será indicado en paréntesis.
16 Act 8, 31; 8, 35; 8, 36; 8, 38.
17 RICA, no. 1. Énfasis mío
18 Richard Chenevix Trench, Synonyms of the New Testament (Sinónimos del Nuevo Testamento), (London: MacMillan, 1880), Digitized by Ted Hildebrandt, (Wenham, MA: Gordon College, Marzo 2006), 260. https://faculty.gordon.edu/hu/bi/ted_hildebrandt/new_testament_greek/text/trenchsynonyms.pdf. “metanoȇiν y metάnoiα... se convirtieron en las palabras fijas y reconocidas para expresar ese poderoso cambio de mente, corazón
y vida hecho por el Espíritu de Dios”.
19 RICA, no. 1. Énfasis mío.
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Terceramente, “La iniciación de los catecúmenos se hace gradualmente. En conexión con la comunidad de los
fieles”20. Una buena analogía para este proceso es la de una comida. Si la comida consistiera de comida rápida,
uno podría ir a un restaurante, ordenar un par de hamburguesas por el autoservicio, y salir de ahí en un par
de minutos. Por otro lado, un banquete que es preparado, desde cero, con ingredientes frescos, en un modo
cuidadoso, requerirá tiempo y esfuerzo; uno tiene que preparar los ingredientes, marinar las carnes, cocer los
alimentos por el tiempo apropiado, y mezclar las cosas en el momento justo y, a veces, incluso dejar las viandas
reposar antes de servirlas.
Lo que hace a la formación cristiana algo singular es que en el banquete cristiano siempre compartimos el mismo
alimento: el cuerpo y la sangre de Cristo. 21 Aquellos que vienen al banquete no solamente piden participar en
él, sino transformarse en ese platillo principal. Por lo tanto se requiere tiempo de preparación. Esa transformación, metamorfosis, metanoia, se toma tiempo en ocurrir, aun cuando Dios es el que prepara este banquete.
Son muchos los eruditos que recalcan que el RICA es un proceso gradual. Como indica Jeffrey M. Kemper, “The
insistence of certain scholars that the RCIA be referred to as a ‘process’ is not without merit. The term ‘process’
recognizes the necessity of certain dynamics for conversion, but also recognizes that these dynamics are not
uniform in appearance, duration, or actualization”22.
Este primer paso en el proceso es un acto inicial de fe. La fe permite que los precatecúmenos “consciente y libremente bus[quen] al Dios viviente” 23 ya que “La fe es la virtud teologal por la que creemos en Dios y en todo lo
que Él nos ha dicho y revelado” 24. La fe tiene todavía otro papel importante en este encuentro inicial. Vivir en la
fe implica una profunda conversión porque “La fe lleva consigo un cambio de vida, una «metanoia», es decir, una
transformación profunda de la mente y del corazón: hace así que el creyente viva esa «nueva manera de ser, de
vivir, de vivir juntos, que inaugura el Evangelio»”25. Se puede decir que desarrollar la fe implica metanoia, porque
en este encuentro inicial, uno muere a la incredulidad para convertirse en una persona de fe. Además, el proceso
de metanoia continúa mientras que el espíritu va abriendo el corazón del precatecúmeno, que a la larga logra
mostrar signos visibles de conversión. Estos signos visibles de conversión abren las puertas al discernimiento
para hacerse un catecúmeno.
Desde el precatecumenado, la comunidad de la iglesia tiene una gran responsabilidad. El kerigma inicial se ha
transformado al ser transformados los precatecúmenos. Por lo tanto, el kerigma inicial evoluciona a un ministerio de didaskalía (enseñanza), ya que “La catequesis es una acción esencialmente eclesial. El verdadero sujeto de
la catequesis es la iglesia que, como continuadora de la misión de Jesucristo maestro y animada por el Espíritu,
ha sido enviada para ser maestra de la fe”26. La iglesia enseña, como una madre, primeramente compartiendo
la fe que ella está viviendo, y segundamente, en un modo activo recíproco, por el cual la iglesia nutre a sus
miembros con la profesión de la fe (traditio), y los catecúmenos enriquecen la iglesia devolviendo/redituando
(redditio) la fe que fue plantada en ellos después de que germinó y creció de formas personal e inculturada. 27
Por encima de todo, tenemos que tener en cuenta que, como iglesia, nuestra catequesis siempre debe de ser
“- éducation de la liberté plutôt qu’imposition autoritaire de la vérité ... [parce que] L’apôtre s’adresse à l’âme,
20 RICA, no. 4. Énfasis mío.
21 Io 6.
22 Jeffrey M. Kemper, “Paschal Mystery and the Sacraments of Initiation, (El misterio pascual y los sacramentos de iniciación)” Liturgical Ministry 12
(2003): 165. “La insistencia de ciertos eruditos de que el RCIA sea llamado ‘proceso’ no es [algo] sin mérito. El término ‘proceso’ reconoce la necesidad de ciertas dinámicas para la conversión, pero también reconoce que estas dinámicas no son uniformes en apariencia, duración o realización”.
23 RICA, no. 1.
24 Catecismo de la Iglesia Católica (1992), no. 1814, http://www.vatican.va/archive/catechism_sp/p3s1c1a7_sp.html
25 DGC, no. 55.
26 DGC no. 78.
27 DGC, no. 78.
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c’est l’âme qu’il change, sachant que tout le reste viendra par surcroît... C’est là ce qu’ont fait les apôtres... Ils
ont cherché à changer les cœurs, et une fois les cœurs changés, ils ont renouvelé le monde.”28
La idea de que la catequesis es una labor de toda la comunidad no es algo nuevo. Desde los tiempos patrísticos, la iglesia ha laborado como un cuerpo, no solamente en cuanto a obras de misericordia, sino también en
sus celebraciones dominicales. “Rather, the Sunday eucharist [sic] and work among the poor and others were
seen as the inevitable results of living in a communion of faith shared under the judgment of God’s word and in
Jesus’s Spirit.”29 Por lo tanto, la comunidad entera se preocupaba por la formación de los nuevos miembros. Su
metodología no era más que catequesis e iniciación.30 Pero la catequesis tenía un enfoque diferente que lo que
nos imaginamos al oír la palabra catequesis hoy en día.
Catechesis was understood to be not about education but about conversion. Conversion was perceived to be not about doctrinal formulations but about faith as a way of living together in Jesus
Christ become a people. Initiation was known to be a whole sacramental sequence possessing its
own logic that was about membership — that is, full, active and conscious participation…In this view
the final cause of catechesis is not merely instruction: it is conversion therapy for membership.31
Si uno desempeña la catequesis de manera apropiada, los que fueron formados por Cristo por más tiempo sirven
como modelo para los que acaban de tener su primer encuentro con Cristo. La fe cristiana se aprende de la misma manera que aprendemos cualquier otro comportamiento humano: por un proceso de imitación de ejemplo.
Los catecúmenos lograrán convertirse en cuerpo de Cristo únicamente en el contexto de estar presentes con la
comunidad de la iglesia, ya que esta es el cuerpo de Cristo. Esto es a lo que Jeffrey M. Kemper se refiere al decir:
“Through catechesis, theological reflection, and living in the midst of the Christian community—coming to know
Catholic Christians, praying with them, acting with them—catechumens surrender to the will of Christ that they
be drawn into and conform to his paschal mystery.”32
Así mientras que continúa el proceso de catequesis, la comunidad forma a las personas en el catecumenado para
que vivan la vida de conversión que la comunidad ciertamente ya está viviendo. Correspondientemente, cuando
la comunidad y los candidatos disciernen que es el momento apropiado, esto es después de la deliberación previa33, los precatecúmenos participan del Rito de Aceptación en el Catecumenado. El Rito de Aceptación señala
que ha comenzado el proceso de metanoia, i.e. de ser un hijo del mundo, convertirse hasta ser un hijo de Dios
miembro de la iglesia. Este rito es la primera de las estaciones principales en el proceso. Es el momento en que la
persona elige estar plenamente comprometida en el proceso de ser verdaderamente formada por la comunidad.
Alegóricamente podemos comparar este proceso a un proceso en el cual unos futuros padres tienen con ellos
28 Abel Pasquier, “Lavigerie et Le Renouveau Du Catéchuménat, (Lavigerie y la renovación del catecumenado)”, Bulletin de Littérature Ecclésiastique
95, no. 1 (1 enero 1994): 97. “educación de libertad más que imposición de la autoridad de la verdad… [porque] El apóstol se dirige al alma, es el
alma que cambia, sabiendo que el resto le vendrá por añadidura… he aquí lo que hicieron los apóstoles… buscaron cambiar los corazones, y una
vez que los corazones cambiaron, renovaron el mundo”. Traducción mía.
29 Aidan Kavanagh, “Norm of Baptism: The New Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults, (Norma del bautismo: El nuevo Rito de la Iniciación Cristiana de
Adultos)”, Worship 48, no. 3 (1 marzo 1974): 51. “la eucaristía dominical y trabajo entre los pobres y otros eran vistos como la inevitable consecuencia de vivir en una comunión de fe compartida bajo el juicio de la palabra de Dios y el espíritu de Jesús”.
31 Kavanagh, “Norm of Baptism,” 151. “Se entendía que la catequesis no se trata de educación, sino de conversión. Se percibía que la conversión no
es acerca formulaciones doctrinales sino acerca de fe como una manera de vivir[,] juntos en Jesucristo se convierten en un pueblo. La iniciación
era conocida por ser toda una secuencia sacramental con su propia lógica que era acerca de membrecía—es decir, participación plena, activa y
consciente… En esta perspectiva la razón final de la catequesis no es meramente instrucción: es terapia de conversión para ser miembro”.
32 Kemper, 165. “Por medio de la catequesis, reflexión teológica, y vivir entre la comunidad cristiana—conociendo cristianos católicos, orando con
ellos, [inter]actuando con ellos—los catecúmenos se entregan a la voluntad de Cristo para ser halados por su misterio pascual y ser amoldados a
este.”
33 RICA, 121 (137)
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una bebé en calidad de hija putativa mientras que esperan a que se finalice el proceso de adopción. Aun cuando
la niña no es oficialmente parte de la familia, está ya de antemano abierta a ser formada por la familia y la familia
está abierta a formarla y verla como parte de ellos. De la misma manera, los catecúmenos no son aún hijos de
la iglesia, pero ya son parte de la familia, y tanto las personas del catecumenado están abiertas a ser formadas
como la comunidad a formarlas. 34
Este es un momento de profundo crecimiento y profunda conversión, el mayor periodo de transformación en el
proceso de iniciación. La redención se hace presente porque las personas en el catecumenado aceptan a Jesús
en sus vidas. Sin embargo, Peter Fink nota lo siguiente:
Redemption exercise is then not only a transformation of consciousness, the gradual overcoming of
all other images by the images revealed by Christ. It is likewise, and more importantly, a transformation of affections and behavior. It takes time. It takes frequent doing (“exercise”). It takes openness
and a deep vulnerability to the doing. And the transformation can be measured, guided, and observed. ‘In the liturgy human sanctification is manifested by signs perceptible to the senses, and is
effected in a way which is proper to each of these signs’ (CSL, 7).35
Por eso, las liturgias durante el tiempo del catecumenado son parte esencial del proceso de formación. Aunque
las liturgias de la palabra son primordiales, y la bendición de los catecúmenos ocurre durante estas liturgias,
“Además, otros ritos pueden celebrarse para marcar los pasos de los catecúmenos de un nivel a otro de la
catequesis” 36. De esta manera, las liturgias no solamente forman parte del camino de formación, sino que son
estaciones o hitos que marcan diferentes etapas en el proceso.
En sí mismas, las liturgias son un proceso de formación y transformación. Peter Fink menciona el adagio de la era
escolástica que ora: “sacramenta significando efficiunt, that sacraments achieve their effect by signifying”37. Lo
que me gustaría sugerir aquí es que extendamos esta noción a los ritos litúrgicos del RICA, ya que, como nos recuerda Sacrosanctum Concilium, “Cristo está siempre presente en su Iglesia, sobre todo en la acción litúrgica”38.
Así pues, podríamos aplicar a las liturgias del catecumenado lo que Fink dice con respecto a los sacramentos:
They place an image in our consciousness which takes its place alongside of other images, sometimes even conflicting images, of the same reality. It may be an image of who we are before God,
or in ourselves, or with each other. The images which… [liturgies] introduce to our consciousness
are privileged images, for they are rooted in the revelation of Jesus Christ. By our partaking of our…
[liturgies], we allow those images to be planted in our consciousness in the deep hope that they will
34 Concilio Vaticano II, Ad Gentes: Decreto sobre la actividad misionera de la iglesia (1965), no. 14 §5, http://www.vatican.va/archive/hist_councils/
ii_vatican_council/documents/vat-ii_decree_19651207_ad-gentes_sp.html: Expóngase por fin, claramente, en el nuevo Código, el estado jurídico
de los catecúmenos. Porque ya están vinculados a la Iglesia, ya son de la casa de Cristo y, con frecuencia, ya viven una vida de fe, de esperanza y de
caridad.
35 Peter E. Fink, “Living the Sacrifice of Christ (Vivir el sacrificio de Cristo)”, Worship 59, no. 2 (1 marzo 1985): 138. “El ejercicio de redención, por
lo tanto, no es solamente la transformación de la conciencia, la derrota gradual de todas las otras las imágenes bajo las imágenes reveladas por
cristo. Es de la misma manera, y aún con mayor importancia, una transformación de afecciones y comportamiento. Se toma tiempo. Se requiere
hacer con frecuencia (el ejercicio). Demanda apertura y una profunda vulnerabilidad para hacerlo. Y la transformación puede ser medida, guiada
y observada. ‘En… [la liturgia,] los signos sensibles significan y, cada uno a su manera, realizan la santificación del hombre’ (SC 7)”.
36 RICA, no. 79. (103)
37 Fink, 137. “sacramenta significando efficiunt, los sacramentos significando hacen efecto”.
38 Concilio Vaticano II, Sacrosanctum Concilium: Constitución sobre la sagrada liturgia (1963), no. 7, http://www.vatican.va/archive/hist_councils/
ii_vatican_council/documents/vat-ii_const_19631204_sacrosanctum-concilium_sp.html.
63
become the only, or at least the primary, operational images for our life.…The planting is the beginning of conversion, a seeding for the transformation which God wishes to work in us.39
No obstante, este gran proceso de transformación no debe por ninguna razón estar limitado a quienes están preparándose para ser cristianos. Dios nos llama a vivir el misterio pascual en nuestra vida cotidiana, ya que siempre se puede dar un paso más en el camino de la conversión. Los misterios que celebramos no son únicamente
la muerte y resurrección de Cristo como un evento histórico desconectado de nosotros. “For humanity the
paschal mystery is a conversion: a passing over from sin to grace, from alienation to reconciliation, from being
‘no people’ to being God’s people. With these points in mind, we can examine the relationship of the paschal
mystery to the sacraments of initiation”40. Por lo tanto, en la gran vigilia, cuando los catecúmenos vienen para
ser sumergidos en las aguas de la muerte de Cristo, también nosotros renovamos nuestra muerte y resurrección. Consecuentemente, podemos proclamar “Fuimos, pues, con él sepultados por el bautismo en la muerte, a
fin de que, al igual que Cristo fue resucitado de entre los muertos por medio de la gloria del Padre, así también
nosotros vivamos una vida nueva”41.
Probablemente en este punto la pregunta es “¿y luego qué?” La respuesta es simple: Los catecúmenos ahora
son neófitos, y comienzan un proceso de más catequesis (mistagogía), según el RICA, por los 50 días de pascua.
Después de que una persona termina la mistagogía inicial, ya no es neófita. Desde ese momento se entiende que
la persona es plenamente cristiana. Sin embargo, quiero proponer una perspectiva distinta: Después de que la
persona termina su mistagogía como neófita, se convierte en una persona iniciada. El Diccionario de la lengua
española define iniciar como “Proporcionar a alguien los primeros conocimientos o experiencias sobre algo”42,
lo cual implica que al terminar el proceso de iniciación, la persona iniciada posee únicamente las primeras nociones, es principiante. Por lo tanto, como iniciados, los cristianos tenemos el reto de permanecer comprometidos
en una constante conversión, i.e. metanoia. Los nuevos cristianos e, hipotéticamente, todos los cristianos caminamos por la misma senda de conversión, todos como principiantes, i.e. iniciados. ¿Cuándo entonces se convierte
uno en un cristiano plenamente? Eso es simple. Ocurre cuando se completa la formación; la culminación sucede
cuando la mente y corazón han tenido tanta transformación que se han hecho idénticos a la mente y corazón
de Cristo. Innegablemente esa es la meta de toda persona auténticamente cristiana: pensar tan libremente y
carente de juicios como Cristo piensa, aprender a amar sin límites como Cristo ama. Pero, para que esto suceda,
debemos pasar por un intenso proceso de metanoia que puede durar más años de los que disponemos.
Ahora que hemos establecido el papel clave de la metanoia en el proceso de formación para la iniciación cristiana y cómo se relaciona a las celebraciones litúrgicas, podemos enfocarnos en ver el proceso completo. A pesar
de que las comunidades parroquiales pueden tomar diferentes enfoques, es importante mantener en la mente
que sin importar qué modelo de implementación se use en el proceso de formación, la metanoia tiene que ser
el corazón de este.
39 Fink, 137-138. “Ponen una imagen en nuestra conciencia que toma su lugar entre las otras imágenes, incluso discrepantes, de la misma realidad.
Puede ser una imagen de quien somos ante Dios, o [interiormente] ante nosotros mismos, o unos para ante los otros. Las imágenes que… [las
liturgias] presentan a nuestra conciencia son imágenes privilegiadas, porque están arraigadas en la revelación de Jesucristo. Por nuestra participación en nuestras… [liturgias], permitimos que esas imágenes sean plantadas en nuestra conciencia en la profunda esperanza de que se conviertan en las únicas imágenes, o al menos en las imágenes operativas primordiales para nuestra vida… la implantación es el comienzo de la conversión,
una semilla para la transformación que Dios quiere hacer en nosotros.”
40 Kemper, “Paschal Mystery and the Sacraments of Initiation,” 164. “Para la humanidad, el misterio pascual es una conversión: pasar del pecado
a la gracia, de la enajenación a la reconciliación, de ser no-personas a ser pueblo de Dios. Con esto en mente, podemos examinar la relación del
misterio pascual a los sacramentos de la iniciación.”
41 Rom 6:4.
42 Real Academia Española, Diccionario de la lengua española, 23.ª ed. (Madrid: Espasa, 2014), s.v. iniciar, no. 3. http://lema.rae.es/drae/?val=iniciar
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Modelos y Enfoques
Como introducción a considerar diferentes modelos del proceso del RICA, prestemos atención las importantes
observaciones de Cañardo Ramírez con respecto a este proceso, las cuales hablan de la importancia de tres elementos que se recalcan en casi todos los modelos: tradición, progresividad del proceso y liturgias.
1. “Sigue la estructura del catecumenado de los primeros siglos”
2. “Propon[e] para los adultos que desean recibir el bautismo un itinerario progresivo”.
3. “Los ritos que les acompañan, procedentes también de la iglesia primitiva, los sostienen interiormente en su camino hacia el bautismo, mediante la gracia de Dios que reciben en estas
celebraciones”43.
Modelos basados en características cualitativas
Al ver los modelos de formación del RICA, podemos diferenciar entre dos enfoques distintos. Uno de estos es
el enfoque que busca ciertas características cualitativas en el proceso. James Dunning describe uno de estos
modelos de formación del RICA. En su perspectiva, los cuatro periodos en el RICA proveen un espacio no solamente para aquellos en formación para la iniciación, sino también para todos los miembros de la comunidad. 44
Desde este enfoque, interpreta los cuatro periodos como un juego de movimientos alternantes, yendo adentro
hacia la introspección y la meditación y afuera hacia la comunidad:
The process begins with autobiography, sharing our personal pilgrimage... This leads to… a search
for the meaning and significance of our lives. Second, that prompts reflection upon the biographies
and faith of the Christian community to discern whether or not the Good News of Jesus’ story and
the journeys of his followers bring depth and help people interpret their own pilgrimage. Third,
each person asks the question, “Is the Good News truly Good News for me?” This is the moment of
personal faith and turning to the Lord… Fourth, if I discern God’s presence in my journey… that leads
to Eucharist… and also to sharing the Good News with others by Christian witness and ministry.45
James Dunning sugiere que, de estas cuatro etapas del RICA, tomemos siete imperativos que fomentarán un
ambiente en el que “all Christians may enter more deeply into the life of the Lord and ‘build a new life” 46. Estos
imperativos tienen la intención de hacernos recordar los imperativos de la creación en el primer capítulo del
Génesis:
1. Hágase la narración de historias.—la dinámica de contar y escuchar permite construir relaciones
con ambos entre individuos y entre individuos y la iglesia. (La autobiografía y el compartir el
peregrinaje personal juegan un papel importante en este imperativo.)
43 Cañardo Ramírez, 722.
44 James B. Dunning, “Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults: Model of Adult Growth (Rito de la iniciación Cristiana de Adultos: Modelo de crecimiento
adulto)”, Worship 53, no. 2 (1 marzo 1979): 143.
45 Dunning, “Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults,” 143. “El proceso comienza con autobiografía, compartiendo nuestro peregrinaje personal… esto
lleva a… una búsqueda del significado e importancia de nuestras vidas. Segundo, esto da pie [a una] reflexión sobre las biografías y la fe de la
comunidad cristiana para discernir si las Buenas Nuevas de la historia de Jesús y los pasos de sus seguidores traen más profundidad y ayudan a las
personas a interpretar su propio peregrinaje, o no. Tercero, cada persona se hace la pregunta: ‘¿Es la Buena Noticia verdaderamente una Buena
Noticia para mí?’ Este es el momento de fe personal y volverse hacia el Señor… Cuarto, si discierno la presencia de Dios en mi camino… eso me
conduce a la eucaristía… y también a compartir las Buenas Noticias con otros a través del testimonio cristiano y el ministerio.” Énfasis mío, para
señalar los movimientos.
46 Dunning, “Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults,” 144. “Todos los cristiano pueden entrar más profundamente en la vida del Señor y ‘crear una nueva
vida’”. Los siete imperativos se encuentran con explicaciones extensas en Dunning (144-156).
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2. Hágase el preguntar.—Las preguntas son primordiales para tomar parte en el proceso del precatecumenado, discernimiento, y búsqueda de significado.
3. Háganse las comunidades de fe.—Medios de apoyo, formación y estímulo a muchos niveles.
4. Hágase la tradición.—Para poner nuestros pies en tierra firme y darle estabilidad a nuestro
camino.
5. Hágase la conversión.—La cual, como se mencionó antes, es primordial para la vida cristiana.
6. Hágase la celebración.—Para descubrir los dones de Dios que recibimos y regocijarnos en ellos.
7. Háganse los ministerios.—para fortalecer los lasos de caridad y servicio entre los miembros de
la comunidad y compartir lo que hemos recibido de Dios.
Aunque a un nivel teórico es fácil identificar cuántos de estos elementos están presentes en el proceso de formación del RICA, cuando se trata de ponerlos en práctica, las cosas son muy diferentes; por eso es que existen
muy distintos modelos de formación en el proceso de RICA.
Comparablemente, John J. O’Brien propone una manera diferente de observar el proceso del RICA. En su ensayo “Hearts Prepared and Renewed : Conversion in the Community of the Church”, él hace un análisis de diferentes modelos utilizados por las comunidades que implementan formación del RICA. El relaciona la diversidad
de modelos con distintas formas de espiritualidad bautismal, identificando siete tipos principales:
1. Conversional-escatológica—el bautismo se considera un signo de renovación escatológica después
de una evidente conversión.
2. Celebrational—celebra la victoria de Cristo en los bautizados; “apasionada en su poesía de exaltación y su sentido de victoria.”
3. Moralista—enfatiza una fuerte instrucción moral y escrutinios meticulosos antes del bautismo.
4. Jurídica—”adquiere su fuerza de la seriedad con la que toma a la iglesia. El bautismo… es una función de una comunidad.”
5. Mística-metafísica—ve al bautismo como el zénit del camino de unificación de corazón humano,
misterio y gracia. Los bautizados comparten la luz y la gloria de Cristo.
6. Relacional—expresa una relación personal con Cristo.
7. Social—”El bautismo incorpora ‘conversos’ a la comunidad cristiana”. 47
O’Brien también señala que, consciente o inconscientemente, las comunidades cristianas acogen uno o más
de estos tipos de espiritualidad bautismal para concebir, comprender y dar significado a su imagen de comunidad y de bautismo. 48 Debemos preguntar, sin embargo, si alguna comunidad en particular podría decir que
tiene una comprensión plena de que es el bautismo, y una comprensión integral de la formación catequética
sin tener un balance íntegro de los siete tipos. Después de todo, es obvio por lo mencionado antes acerca de la
formación, que un verdadero proceso de metanoia sonsacará una revolución en todas estas áreas.
47 John J. O’Brien, “Hearts Prepared and Renewed : Conversion in the Community of the Church (Corazones preparados y renovados: Conversión en
la comunidad de la Iglesia),” Liturgical Ministry 15 (2006): 66–68.
48 O’Brien, “Hearts Prepared and Renewed,” 68.
66
Similarmente, Jeffrey M. Kemper, presenta un modelo que propone lo que él considera los seis elementos del
RICA que permiten a la persona entrar en una participación en el misterio pascual como una realidad a la que
están siendo incorporados.49 El último de estos seis elementos tiene dos componentes; una conexión a una
mayor tradición espiritual y una conexión a una mayor participación en el misterio de Cristo. Por lo tanto, este
estudio lista estos componentes como dos elementos distintos, aun cuando están muy relacionados el uno con
el otro. En la evaluación de Kemper, estos son los principales elementos que distinguen al RICA:
1. Es holístico—Trata de fomentar una metanoia de mente, corazón y voluntad hacia la obra salvífica de JesuCristo, no es una labor intelectual, sino que involucra todo la esencia de ser.
4. Efectúa y manifiesta la obra de Cristo a través de su iglesia—uno entra en el misterio pascual
siendo halado por Cristo y a través de su cuerpo, la iglesia.
5. Reconoce la metanoia hacia el misterio pascual como un proceso—”una acción compleja y
misteriosa, de Dios y el individuo”, tomando en cuenta la libertad personal en el contexto de la
vida.
6. Emplea elementos rituales—”para dar reconocimiento del crecimiento y desarrollo y para incentivar a los catecúmenos hacia la meta de la vida en Cristo.”
7. Mantiene el enfoque de la formación en el misterio pascual—al celebrar las iniciaciones en el
contexto de la Vigilia pascual con todos sus símbolos y de preferentemente con bautismo por
inmersión.
8. Demanda la unidad del Rito de la Iniciación—manifestando plenamente la gama del misterio
pascual desde la pasión hasta pentecostés.
9. Ilumina nuestra experiencia a la luz del misterio pascual—en las aguas del bautismo los neófitos
se unen para siempre a la vida de Cristo en el contexto de los sacramentos y la vida existencial
de la iglesia y sus miembros individualmente.50
Kemper concluye su análisis de elementos señalando: “neophytes are gifted with the Holy Spirit for the purpose of living the received mystery. By their own efforts alone this would be impossible, but through a new and
irrevocable relationship with the Spirit this is quite achievable, since ‘with God, all things are possible’”51, lo
cual es de profunda importancia para todos los cristianos. Como se mencionó antes, Dios inicia el proceso de
metanoia, continúa trabajando con aquellos que eligen abrirse a esta conversión, y Dios confiere también la
capacidad de vivir los misterios recibidos. Esta percepción hace evidente que los cristianos pueden tener parte
de la plegaria eucarística, en la que, dando gracias y alabanza, celebran su llamado, obligación y gracia de estar
en el camino de la metanoia, si lo hacen “Por Cristo, con él y en él”.52 Comprensiblemente, en este contexto, la
única respuesta de un cristiano a esta oración es un “Gran Amén”53.
49 Kemper, “Paschal Mystery and the Sacraments of Initiation,” 165.
50 Kemper, “Paschal Mystery and the Sacraments of Initiation,” 165-166.
51 Kemper, “Paschal Mystery and the Sacraments of Initiation,” 166. “Los neófitos reciben el don del Espíritu Santo con el propósito de que vivan
el misterio que reciben. Por sus propios esfuerzos, esto sería imposible, pero a través de una nueva e irrevocable relación con el espíritu es muy
alcanzable, ya que ‘con Dios, todo es posible’”.
52 Congregación para el Culto Divino y la Disciplina de los Sacramentos, “Ordo Missae,” Missale Romanum, Editio typica tertia, (2002), nos. 98, 106,
114,123. Ver también: El Libro De Oración Común Administración de los Sacramentos y otros Ritos y Ceremonias de la Iglesia Junto con el Salterio
o Salmos de David Conforme al uso de La Iglesia Episcopal (New York: The Church Hymnal Corporation, 2001), 326, 328.
53 N.T.: “Gran Amén” es la forma en la que se denomina en inglés al “Amén Solemne”.
67
Comparación de los modelos basados en características cualitativas
Cuando yuxtaponemos estos modelos reorganizando las características de cada subdivisión presentada por
los autores, nos percatamos de que, aún si el enfoque de cada uno es muy diferente, todos tratan los mismos
aspectos básicos de la formación cristiana. Independientemente de si el modelo procede del paradigma de los
imperativos en el Génesis, el estudio de las diferentes espiritualidades bautismales o diseccionar el RICA, estos
modelos tienen los elementos clave de metanoia, énfasis en comunidad, introspección, indagación/búsqueda
de significado, celebración/reconocimiento de momentos importantes, conexión a una tradición espiritual, y
servicio.
En lugar de abordar estos elementos como características que uno usa para desarrollar o explicar una espiritualidad, como lo sugiere O’Brian, un mejor planteamiento es que las comunidades de formación del RICA se esfuercen por desarrollarlas todas. De la mima manera, en lugar de usarlas como características que pudieran estar o no presentes, deberíamos tratarlas como un cuerpo orgánico compuesto de esos miembros; por lo tanto,
si hay deficiencia en uno o más de ellos, el resto sufrirá también. Por otro lado, el que uno de estos sea fuerte
también nos ayudará a fortalecer los demás aspectos. El mismo razonamiento aplica a los cambios en cualquiera de estos, Es difícil imaginar que una comunidad que ha crecido considerablemente en celebrar/reconocer
los momentos importantes, por ejemplo, sea una comunidad deficiente en las otras áreas. Si ese fuera el caso,
no habría razón para celebrar. Los siete elementos trabajan como una unidad.
Características
Comunes

Modelos
Modelo de los imperativos de Dunning
Modelo de espiritualidad bautismal de
O’Brien
Modelo de elementos del RICA de
Kemper
5. Conversión
1. Conversional-escatológica
1. Holístico (metanoia
de mente corazón y
voluntad)
Énfasis en comunidad
3. Comunidades de fe
4. Jurídica
2. Efectúa y manifiesta la obra de Cristo a
través de su iglesia
Introspectiva: Enfoque en la
relación entre Dios y el individuo
1. Narración de historias
6. Relacional
3. Reconoce la metanoia hacia el misterio
pascual
Indagación/búsqueda de significado
2. Preguntar
3. Moralista
5. Mantiene el enfoque de la formación
en el misterio pascual
Celebración/Reconocimiento
de momentos importantes
6. Celebración
2. Celebrational
4. Emplea elementos
rituales
Conexión a la tradición spiritual
4. Tradición
5. Mística-Metafísica
6. Demanda la unidad
del Rito de la Iniciación
7. Ministerios
7. Social
7. Ilumina nuestra experiencia a la luz del
misterio pascual
Metanoia
Servicio
68
Modelos Basados en características cuantitativas
Otra forma de plantear el estudio de modelos de formación del RICA es prestando atención a las características
cuantitativas. Como ejemplo, el trabajo de Dolly Sokol presenta un juego de diferentes modelos basados en
la duración. A pesar de que ella incluye aspectos cualitativos de los modelos que examina, ella diferencia los
modelos principalmente por su duración en el proceso de formación. El cuadro sinóptico abajo nos ayudará a
comparar lado a lado los diferentes modelos que Sokol estudia en “Modelos parroquiales del RICA”.54
Modelo escolar
• Modelo principal del
RICA en EE.UU.
Características
• Proceso de 9 meses
Modelo basado en el Leccionario
• Prevalente en EE.UU.
• Se basa en el leccionario
Modelo de todo el año
Modelo de aprendices
• Proceso de formación
continuo
• La formación principal
ocurre en el periodo de
catecumenado
• Catecumenado más
• fluye de como la iglesia enpurificación-iluminación
• Precatecumenado— tiende el papel de las Sagradas dura por lo menos un año
Inicia a fin de agosto Escrituras
completo
o principio de sep• Catequesis después de que
tiembre
• Quienes practican este
se despide a los catecúmenos modelo son particularen la misa; puede incluir otra
• Iniciación en la
mente cuidadosos de
sesión en la semana
Pascua
discernir las necesidades
espirituales de los forman• Las lecturas dominicales son dos para no presumir que
• Las sesiones son
el enfoque de ambas sesiones todos necesitan comenzar
claramente vistas
como una educación
donde mismo
• Los catecúmenos reflexionan
religiosa para adulto
la palabra de Dios y buscan
• Proceso continuo de
las imágenes, pensamientos y indagación, crecimiento y
sentimientos evocados
conversión
• Puede reflexionar aspectos
de la enseñanza católica manifiestos en las lecturas
• El aprendiz es enseñado
por la comunidad de creyentes
• El aprendiz está con ellos participando de lo que
ellos hacen, inquiriendo,
reflexionando con ellos
las razones por las que se
hace una cosa u otra
• Los catecúmenos
mantienen una relación
constante no solo con el
equipo del RICA y los esponsores, sino con toda la
comunidad
• Los catequistas guían a
los demás a ser creyentes,
miembros de la comunidad, personas de oración
y constructores del reino
al hacer todas estas cosas
en su formación
• Las etapas del proceso catecumenal no están claramente
definidas
• Puede seguir el modelo escolar—completando el proceso
entre 6-9 meses
• Puede seguir un modelo del
RICA más pleno
54 Sokol, “Parish Models of the RICA,” 87–94.
69
Modelo escolar
Ventajas
Enfoque
• Aprendizaje intelectual
• Método dialógico
• Transformar a los
participantes en dis• La mayor herramienta son las cípulos líderes en su
preguntas abiertas
comprensión y uso de
la catequesis basada en
el leccionario
• Comprometido a desarrollar los cuatro pilares del
catecumenado sin omitir
ninguno (RICA 75)
• Se maneja eficientemente, trascurre
rápidamente, trata
de causar la menor
incomodidad posible
y ahorrar tiempo
• Ofrece a los adultos la oportunidad de participar en crecimiento y aprendizaje espiritual
• Valora su historia y experiencia y les da oportunidad de
ponerlas en diálogo con las
escrituras
Se basa en:
• Ad Gentes no. 14: “…
no… exposición de dogmas y preceptos, sino…
formación… de la vida
cristiana, en que los discípulos se unen con Cristo
su Maestro”
• Las preguntas del Rito
de Elección que piden evidencia de la conversión
• La parroquia tienen un
sistema y estructura establecidos para apoyar y
sostener el camino de fe
de los precatecúmenos,
catecúmenos y neófitos
en una manera continua e
ininterrumpida
• Los catecúmenos aprenden a conectar las enseñanzas de las escrituras y
la iglesia con su experiencia de vida
• puede dar experiencia constante de reflexión teológica
que lleve a la conversión y
actividad apostólica
Modelo escolar
70
• La experiencia puede ser
un fuerte compañero de
diálogo en el proceso de
formación cristina
Desventajas
Presunciones comunes
• Raramente llega a
durar nueve meses
• Puede convertirse en sesiones de reflexión bíblica
• Escasa oportunidad
de que los catecúmenos disciernan si
están listos para ser
iniciados
• Todos dicen lo que piensan o
sienten acerca de las escrituras
• Las sesiones no
se basan en el leccionario
• Los solicitantes
deben esperar a que
reinicie el “programa”
• Las percepciones compartidas del entendimiento bíblico
de los catecúmenos puede
diferir con las enseñanzas o
las creencias católicas, pero
por el bien de la aceptación, su
entendimiento no es cambiado
por las enseñanzas católicas
bíblicas y teológicas
• No satisfice las expectativas del RICA
(1-8) y la visión Cristiana de liderazgo
• Los facilitadores pueden ser
capacitados con habilidades
para escuchar y desarrollar
relaciones, pero no suficientemente capacitados en
catequesis
• “No hay que hacer
que las personas
pierdan tiempo”
• “Las escrituras son el núcleo
de nuestras creencias”
• “Debemos escuchar a las
• “lo único que necesi- personas que desean hacerse
católicas, no retarlas”
tan saber es qué es
lo que hace que los
católicos sean diferentes a otros”
• “No tenemos suficientes personas
para que hagan este
ministerio así que es
mejor que no las agobiemos”
• Puede ser un poco desordenado con las personas comenzando durante
todo el año (la desorganización es prevista en
el RICA “nada se puede
determinar ‘a priori’” – No.
76 (20))
•Si la participación de los
catecúmenos sucede sin
orientación y lo ven como
mero servicio social, se
convierte en un proyecto
de confirmación de bachillerato para adultos1
• Durante la cuaresma,
tiene tres grupos simultáneos funcionando:
precatecumenado, catecumenado y de purificación e
iluminación
• “Debemos de respetar y
responder a los solicitantes cuando la Gracia de
Dios los lleva a acercarse
a nosotros.”
• “Las personas aprenden
como ser católicos practicando lo que los católicos
hacen”
• “Necesitamos formar dis• “El camino de conversión cípulos, no apologistas”
espiritual es gradual y se
• “Los adultos aprenden
tarda el tiempo que se
mucho mejor cuando punecesite”
eden ‘hacer’ en lugar de
solamente ‘escuchar’”
• “Debemos ser flexibles
para no forzar a las personas a dar un paso para el
que no están listas”
Unas palabras sobre los modelos basados en características cuantitativas
Primeramente, notemos que un proceso restringido a un margen de tiempo deja de ser un proceso, para ser
más específico, un proceso espiritual que está bajo un calendario, un reloj (incluso si este fuera un reloj de
arena), sería un programa y no un proceso. Esto directamente afecta el progreso de la conversión. Aunque algunas personas dicen que les agradan los cambios, en realidad, consciente o inconscientemente, la mayoría de
las personas luchan en contra del cambio. Cambiar saca a la persona de su zona de comodidad para ponerla en
lugares a los que no quieren ir. Si las personas evaden el cambio en general, con mucha mayor razón evadirán
la metanoia.
Es difícil decir con certeza qué es lo que lleva a las comunidades a tomar el camino más corto que les sea posible
cuando se trata de procesos de formación espiritual. Si, en cualquier dada parroquia, la mayor preocupación
71
es hacer que el proceso sea lo más fácil posible, y por esa razón utilizan el modelo escolar, eso significa que su
“programa” tendrá a las personas en el “aula de clase” entre 48 y 72 horas, suponiendo que se reúnen dos horas
a la semana por un periodo de seis a nueve meses. No cabe duda que pueden cubrir una cantidad significativa
de material doctrinal, y algunas de las personas que están en el “programa” podrían incluso aprenderse la mayor
parte, si no es que todo, el material. Sin embargo, si el objetivo de la catequesis es cubrir información, ¿por
qué no entonces hacer que ellos asistan todo el día durante los sábados de cuaresma, y bautizarlos en la vigilia
pascual? ¡Rápido y fácil! Muy probablemente más personas asistirían a ese tipo de programa; después de todo,
solamente tienen que sacrificar sus sábados por no más de seis semanas consecutivas.
Existe únicamente una razón para evadir este tipo de enfoque: no tenemos control alguno sobre el proceso
de conversión. No podemos decidir cuándo un apersona estará lista y no podemos controlar un proceso de
metanoia, primordialmente porque lo primero que una metanoia demanda es relegar el control y entregarse
plenamente a la voluntad de Dios. Tampoco podemos pretender tener control sobre Dios como para decirle
“Oye, Dios, ya es octubre, más vale que dejes de llamar personas al camino cristiano porque las inscripciones no
se abrirán nuevamente hasta Junio”. Por lo tanto, debemos continuar preguntándonos: ¿Cuál es nuestra meta
principal en el proceso de RICA? ¿Es nuestra meta principal crear un currículo académico cómodo? ¿Es nuestra
meta principal crear el espacio para la posibilidad de que una persona comience un proceso de conversión y
esperar que después del bautismo esa persona continúe en un proceso de formación constante? ¿Es nuestra
meta principal, como comunidad, ayudar a los participantes a madurar hasta que tengan una profunda relación
con Cristo que los lleve a una verdadera conversión de vida?
Conclusión
Al embarcarse en el proceso de formación cristiana dando la bienvenida a nuevos miembros, las comunidades
parroquiales deben ser muy cuidadosas para llevar este proyecto a fruición. Aunque parezca sin importancia, la
diferencia entre un proceso de formación bien hecho y un programa de formación mediocre, es un asunto de
vida y muerte. Mientras que uno ofrece un camino a una transformación plena involucrando a los participantes
en un proceso de muerte y renacimiento a muchos niveles, el otro ofrece la oportunidad de participar en un conjunto de liturgias que tienen un impacto a un nivel espiritual pero que pasarán casi totalmente desapercibidas
a cualquier otro nivel. Por lo tanto, la metanoia tiene un papel crucial que no debe ser ignorado o escondido de
ninguna manera, incluyendo restricciones del tiempo dado al proceso.
Hay muchas maneras de enfocar el proceso de formación para aquellos que van en camino a una iniciación cristiana. No obstante, el RICA denota que aquellos que se embarcan en este camino van a acoger y continuar en un
proceso de conversión que reconstruirá a quienes participen en él con todo su corazón.
Entre los diferentes modelos para implementar el proceso del RICA, hay algunos más conductivos a una auténtica metanoia. Uno puede evaluar la calidad se estos modelos analizando el grado en el que el proceso incorpora
los siguientes elementos que fomentan el crecimiento y concientización constantes:
1. Reconoce el papel e importancia de la metanoia en el proceso
2. Da énfasis a la comunidad
3. Cultiva la introspección/conciencia de uno mismo
4. Promociona de indagación/búsqueda de significado
72
5. Tiene desenvoltura para celebrar/reconocer momentos importantes
6. Valora la conexión a la tradición espiritual
7. Fomenta un espíritu de servicio a otros.
Finalmente, hemos de tomar en consideración que tener una visión clara de la intensión del proceso de formación es un factor muy importante en el éxito y efectividad del proceso. Por ello, es de suma importancia
establecer prioridades a niveles personales y comunitarios. Si enseñar doctrina nos parece una prioridad por
encima de la metanoia, eso es una buena indicación de la urgente necesidad de metanoia en nuestra propia
vida. Después de todo, hay personas en el mundo con doctorados en estudios de la cristiandad y/o catolicismo
que saben todo lo que se puede saber acerca de doctrina, aun así no son cristianos. Sin una participación plena, consciente y activa en un proceso de conversión en el contexto de una comunidad de fe, saber todo sobre
doctrina no hace que una persona sea cristiana, más de lo que saber todo acerca de gimnástica hace que una
persona que jamás se ejercita se convierta en un atleta.
73
Column: Marriage and the Family
What’s the Difference?
by Stephanie Cherpak Clary1
“Do you feel any different?”
I
n the weeks following my wedding, I was confronted with this question by family, friends, and even acquaintances in all walks of life. As they awaited my response with wide, curious eyes and anxious smiles, I would
try to think of what I could possibly say that was short enough to be socially acceptable and polite, yet long
enough to satisfactorily explain how I was feeling. It is now one month later and I still have not come up with an
adequate answer.1
Typically, I end up responding with a generic, “Things aren’t really that different, but we’re happy and enjoying
married life!” While not untrue, this response leaves both the questioner and myself dissatisfied. As far as daily
life is concerned, things are not that different. Our routine was wonderfully disrupted for a few weeks as we traveled to Indiana for the wedding, Hawaii for the honeymoon, and then as we spent several days in the Midwest
celebrating the holidays with each of our families before road-tripping back to our home in Vermont. But, now
that we are back home in Vermont, schedules have returned to normal. Even psychologically, things are pretty
much the same. Participating in the appropriate marriage preparation workshops led us to consider and discuss
important aspects of married life before entering into this lifestyle. We consciously decided that this was the life
we wanted and that we wanted it with each other. The idea of lifelong commitment and love was present before
the wedding vows were spoken. With the exception of now being able to refer to Matt as my husband (which,
admittedly, is pretty cool), things are not really that different. So that’s what I tell people.
The dissatisfaction in this response suggests that there is more to the story. There is more that I want to say.
There is more that they want to hear. Something is different. How could it not be? We have just entered into
what Richard Gaillardetz refers to as “a most perilous undertaking...a journey fraught with risk. Marriage offers the daring proposition that two people might unconditionally bind themselves together for life without
destroying each other, their offspring, or both in the process. To promise oneself to another before God,” says
Gaillardetz, “is one of the most radical things we do as Christians.”2 While perilous, risky, and radical are not
typically the words that come to mind when discussing marriage, I assume that deep down, maybe even at a
subconscious level, we know the reality of the marital commitment described as such to be true. Perhaps this
is why we expect things to be so different after someone decides to do the monumental thing of committing
themselves to and in marriage! In addition to binding ourselves together with the hope of avoiding destruction
of each other and any future children, Gaillardetz goes on to explain that “when marriage is lived out faithfully,
it ought to offer the church a public witness to the life of discipleship to which Christians are called....To marry, at
1 Stephanie Cherpak Clary is one of three founding editors of Theophilus and currently serves as an editorial board member. Stephanie has a B.A. in
Religious Studies and Communication Studies from St. Mary’s College in Notre Dame, Indiana and is a candidate for a Research M.A. in Systematic
Theology from Catholic Theological Union, Chicago. Stephanie and her husband Matt were married on December 13, 2014 and live in Vermont
2 Richard Gaillardetz, A Daring Promise (Liguori, MO: Liguori/Triumph, 2007), ix.
74
least from a Christian perspective, is to make our marital relationship the concern of the church and a gift to the
world. We commit ourselves to be a visible sign of what it means to live in communion with God and neighbor.”3
Beyond maintaining our biological family, Matt and I, as a married couple, are expected to set a very specific
example of God’s love for the church and the world, for the family of God. This is no small responsibility! Yet, it is
the vocation to which we feel called and it is the vocation that we feel allows us to live out our Christianity, and
furthermore, our humanity, to its fullest potential.
By responding to the “Do you feel any different?” inquiry with nonchalance and casualness I am downplaying
the hugely significant feelings of wonder and awe that accompany the transition from one who is discerning a
vocation to married life to one who has entered into and is now actively living out that vocation. I am no longer
called to be an example of the loving face of God as an individual only, but additionally, my husband and I are
called to be an example of God’s loving communion together. The very way in which I live out my Christianity has
changed—and that feels wondrous and awesome and humbling and exciting! My daily life and weekly routines
may not have changed, but the way in which I exist in the world has. Indeed, I do feel different.
3 Gaillardetz, x-xi.
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A Couple’s Faith Journey
by Em Bataille1
I...urge you to live in a manner worthy of the call you have received, with all
humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another through love.
M
-Ephesians 4:1-2
y wife and I are “do-overs”. However, without the back story of our previous marriages we could not
have arrived at the place we are today. We followed the Church’es proscribed path of seeking an annulment for our previous marriages in order to be married in the Catholic Church. The process was complicated in many ways, but also cathartic. It forced us to consider the good and bad of our previous relationships.
We had to face the reality of what we contributed to the dysfunction and ultimate demise of those relationships.
This is a healthy exercise for the mind and soul.1
We knew we wanted to be married in the Catholic Church. However, Carol was not Catholic. To her credit she
was willing to follow the RCIA process to be accepted into the Catholic Church. What started as a matter of form
began our journey of faith. Not only did Carol learn the beauty of Catholicism, but so did I. She asked questions
I could not answer. We sought the answers together. As a cradle Catholic, I relearned my faith. The Easter Vigil
service when Carol was welcomed into the Catholic Church was a powerful and moving experience. This may
have been the first time I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit in my life. Needless to say, there were real life guardian angels whose faith and personal lives inspired us. Sometimes, we need help hearing the whispers of the Holy
Spirit.
I never realized there could be a spiritual bond between a husband and wife. This is perhaps the most important
bond for any couple to share. It is the bond that will allow a couple to fully enjoy life’s beautiful moments and
survive its most difficult times. The Easter Vigil is a beautiful and moving ritual for those journeying to join the
Catholic faith tradition. It appears that many of those attending the Vigil service have had a personal experience
with the ritual that keeps them coming back to celebrate the faith journey of others. So it is with Carol and I. We
vividly remember her first Easter Vigil. The presence of the Holy Spirit is palpable and energizing in the celebration of the Sacraments of Initiation: Baptism, Holy Eucharist, and Confirmation. That presence seems to take on
a deeper meaning when a loved one is receiving those sacraments for the first time. That commitment to share
in each other’s faith journey is an awe inspiring personal spiritual experience.
The joy of that first Easter Vigil with Carol has continued. My wife and I have been actively involved in our parish’s
RCIA ministry for eight plus years. We started out as sponsors and moved to being facilitators for the candidates
and catechumens teaching sessions. We are attracted to the blessings of this ministry. It is humbling, inspiring,
1 Em Batialle has a B.A. in Political Science from Loyola University, Chicago, an M.A. in Management from Webster University, St. Louis, and is a graduate of the US Army War College in Strategic Studies. Em retired from the US Army after 34 years. His wife Carol and I have been married for 20 years
and belong to Sts. Peter and Paul parish in Cary, Illinois. He is currently pursuing an MA in Biblical Ministry at CTU.
76
and renewing to walk along side fellow faith travelers. To share in another’s faith journey is powerful. This shared
ministry reinforces the joy of our own personal faith journey. I never tire of receiving the Holy Eucharist with my
wife. Her faith journey was a gift that has blessed our marriage.
One never knows the impact of a life lived. However, Carol and I can say we are practicing our faith to the best
of our abilities with a commitment to a life lived according to St Paul’s exhortation to the Ephesians. Not only
did Carol and I grow together through her reception into the Church on the Easter Vigil, but so did our parish
community grow by receiving another new member into its midst. We love helping others walk along the path
of their faith journeys to enter the Church and thus growing our Catholic faith community. Thus, our experience
is summed up by the marital vocation of Priscilla and Aquila as described by Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI:
One thing is for sure; together with the gratitude of the early Church, of which Saint Paul speaks,
we must also add our own, since thanks to the faith and apostolic commitment of the lay faithful,
of families, of spouses like Priscilla and Aquila, Christianity has reached our generation...It could not
grow only due to the Apostles, who announced it. In order to take root in people’s land and develop
actively, the commitment of these families, these spouses, these Christian communities, of these lay
faithful was necessary in order to offer the ‘humus’ for the growth of the faith. As always, it is only
in this way that Church grows...2
2 Benedict XVI, “General Audience for Wednesday, 7 February 2007.”
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Partners on the Way
by Dannis Matteson1
R
ecently my husband and I were promoting postgraduate service opportunities to college students and we
were telling the students how we had both individually participated in service years ourselves. A religious
sister nearby responded, “And I gave my whole life!” Tom and I both looked at each other with a similar
expression of shock; we both see it much differently. We don’t see our years of service as the time in our lives
that we “gave up.” Our lifestyle as a married couple is one of complete surrender to God’s will in the service of
others. We don’t see our vocation as anything other than a giving of our whole lives to God. 1
“The judgment of the nations” from the Gospel of Matthew fits well with this outlook. The other evening, Tom
and I were sitting around discussing scripture commentaries (like good CTU grads) on Matthew 25:31-46.
Then they will answer and say, “Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked
or ill or in prison, and not minister to your needs?” He will answer them, “Amen, I say to you, what
you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.” And these will go off to eternal
punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.
We had just heard a homily on this reading and were talking about what we would have preached about. Tom
was struck that various commentaries identify the sufferers as Christians, while most homilies we have heard
emphasize the ones who serve the sufferers. For example, many interpret the passage to mean that if Christians
respond to someone in need, then they have just served Jesus himself. The commentaries that Tom was reading,
however—the Catholic Study Bible and the Sacra Pagina Series—provided a different interpretation. According
to these commentaries, the scripture passage centers on the judgment of all the nations and their treatment
of suffering Christians who are going around spreading the message of Jesus. Conditions such as thirst, hunger, estrangement, nakedness, illness, and imprisonment are actually describing circumstances Christians found
themselves in as a result of preaching the gospel. As advocates of the message of Jesus, Christians were most
likely going to find themselves in pretty severe situations; their survival left at the mercy of the righteous sheep
to reach out in times of need.
Tom and I sat there pondering this passage’s relevance to our lives as a married couple dedicated to spreading
the Gospel. We see evidence of these qualities surface in our married life together, and we witness God providing for our needs through the generosity of others. As campus ministers, we would be homeless without the
righteous sheep in the residence life department who provide us with housing. We would be hungry if we were
not supplied on-campus meal plans. And the list goes on...
1 Dannis Matteson has an M.A. in Theology with a concentration in Systematic Theology from Catholic Theological Union and currently teaches feminist theology as an adjunct professor at Saint Xavier University, Chicago. Dannis also staffs the Catholic Common Ground Initiative, and, as a former
Bernardin Scholar, she is honored to carry on Cardinal Bernardin’s legacy. Dannis and her husband, Thomas Cook (also a CTU alum) are starting a
community in the Back of the Yards neighborhood in conjunction with the Port Ministries. The community is open to those who want to live out
their faith as a supportive presence to both the neighborhood and the Port.
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We find God’s generosity extending beyond day to day needs, as well. Relying completely on God has meant that
as a married couple we choose not to plan. We would rather wait for God to show us the Way, than to take matters into our own hands. This brings with it much uncertainty. We literally live year to year. And so, this radical
dedication to the gospel has brought about an alternative lifestyle for both of us, both before we were married,
and especially beginning this life together. As disciples on the Way, we may not always know where we will find
the next roof over our heads, but we have found life to be much richer than “making plans” as a result of surrendering our whole life to God.
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Column: Consecrated Life
The Task Before the Current Generations
by Susan Rose Francois, C.S.J.P.1
T
hose of us who are privileged to be living consecrated life in 2015 walk in the footsteps of great men and
women of faith who sought to follow Jesus in a particular way. Some, like Francis of Assisi and Teresa of Avila, are well known and beloved Saints for the universal church. Others, like Margaret Anna Cusack (Mother
Francis Clare), who founded my religious community, the Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace, are perhaps less well
known.1
Nonetheless, upon reflection, it becomes clear that these founding and reforming men and women not only
have much in common, but they also have much to teach us today. Each was nourished and challenged by a personal relationship with God, mediated through the prayer and sacramental life of the church. Each answered the
call to “translate the Gospel into a particular way of life, to read the signs of the times with faith and to respond
creatively to the needs of the Church.”2
These founding and reforming people, of course, attracted others who were also called to this unusual way of
life. Whether a religious family is 100 or 1,000 years old, the generations presently living consecrated life benefit
from the courageous risks undertaken by every preceding generation. We have much to be grateful for, and for
this reason Pope Francis names the first aim of the Year of Consecrated Life as an opportunity “to look to the
past with gratitude.”3
Yet that alone is not enough. Like the generations before us, we must also listen attentively to the call of the
Gospel today. In his second aim for the year, Pope Francis calls on consecrated persons to “live the present
with passion.”4 The language he uses is very strong. He asks us to reflect on whether we are really open to the
challenge of the Gospel, which “demands to be lived radically and sincerely.”5 As consecrated persons living in
the midst of an increasingly polarized society, “we are called to offer a concrete model of community which, by
acknowledging the dignity of each person and sharing our respective gifts, makes it possible to live as brothers
and sisters.”6
From my perspective as a younger religious, born after the Second Vatican Council, a key gift of this time is the
unique mix of experiences brought by the current generations in consecrated life. Most of my sisters in community entered prior to the renewal. Thus, they have experienced a way of life that is very different in form and
1 Susan Rose Francois, CSJP is a Sister of St. Joseph of Peace. She a Bernardin Scholar and Maters of Arts in Theology candidate at the Catholic Theological Union, specializing in Ethics and Spirituality. Her previous ministries have included social justice education and advocacy and local government administration.
2 Francis, Apostolic Letter to All Consecrated People on the Occasion of the Year of Consecrated Life (November 21, 2014), no. 1.
3 Francis, no. 1.
4 Francis, no. 2
5 Francis, no. 2.
6 Francis, no. 2.
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function from the community life we live today. Yet, it is also true that the present dynamic way of life which
attracted me in the first decade of the twenty-first century is a direct result of their response to the Council. In
faith, they “undertook a fruitful journey of renewal which, for all its lights and shadows, has been a time of grace,
marked by the presence of the Spirit.”7
My elder sisters in community cannot help but live the present with a passion informed by their experience of
renewal. At the same time, younger religious, who look with gratitude and awe at the experience of renewal as
history, bring our own experiences and perspectives. The presence of this unique mix of generations in religious
life today presents both a unique opportunity and a sacred responsibility. Pope Francis encourages younger religious to use this year of consecrated life as a time to be “actively engaged in dialogue with the previous generation.” In this way, younger religious will be “enriched by their experience and wisdom, while at the same time
inspiring” the older generations by their “energy and enthusiasm, to recapture their original idealism.”8
A central task before the generations presently living consecrated life is to be a bridge from the time of renewal
to a sustainable future. Indeed, the third aim for this year outlined by Pope Francis is to “embrace the future with
hope,” for it is this hope which “enables consecrated life to keep writing its great history well into the future.”9
The reality of diminishment and demographic change poses a definitive challenge for today’s generations. Hence,
contemplating our preferred future is ripe with paradox. The choices we make today will necessarily impact the
sustainability of consecrated life tomorrow. Yet, Pope Francis also rightly cautions us not to “yield to the temptation to see things in terms of numbers and efficiency.”10
The historic founding and reforming persons were not concerned with numbers, but rather the central task of
translating the Gospel. Not only that, they “allowed themselves to be translated.”11 The present generations are
also called “to be retranslated … [as we move] into an open, unpredictable, and uncontrollable future.”12 The
call to be a bridge from renewal to a sustainable future for consecrated life requires letting go, creativity, and
courage.
In closing, I offer two voices from the history of my religious community that seem very appropriate for this moment. The first was written in 1969 by Sister Eleanor Quin, CSJP: “I think religious life will dwindle down to a
nucleus and from that nucleus will emerge leadership for a new type of religious life that will be free to concentrate wherever needed.”13 It seems as if we are just living into this reality today.
The second was written by Mother Francis Clare in a general letter to her new congregation in 1887: “We are
beginning a new Order. We want brave, noble, large minded, courageous souls…”14
May the current generations living consecrated life be brave, noble, large minded, and courageous as we build
the bridge to a sustainable future for the generations to come.
7 Francis, no. 1.
8 Francis, no. 3.
9 Francis, no. 3.
10 Francis, no. 3.
11 James Hanvey, “Refounding: Living in the Middle Time,” The Way Supplement 101 (Summer 2001): 39.
12 Hanvey, 39-40.
13Eleanor Quin, Last on the Menu (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, NJ, 1969), 141.
14 Margaret Anna Cusack (Mother Francis Clare), General Letter to the Congregation, April 1887.
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Living Beauty: Being Contemplation in Action
by Graham R. Golden, O. Praem.1
“Great Heaven!1The prince says that beauty saves the world! And I declare that he only has such playful ideas
because he’s in love!”2
Foster’s eyes were glassy, moist with emotion. He stood on the fractured concrete slab looking at us,
head cocked with confusion, hands rising as though to indicate speech. Brent broke the quiet tension, “what happened over there by the fence?” “There are children laughing…” Foster said, “they
are playing a game behind the apartment building. I guess I just didn’t think we would find beauty
here. I thought we would bring it. It seemed like such a desolate place.” There we were, Metra rail
tracks to one side, a dilapidated electric transformer station on another, and the backs of deteriorating apartment blocks closing the circle, reaching above unruly clumps of ghetto palms. We stood in
silence—at least we made no sound, but this back corner of a south side Chicago neighborhood had
plenty to say.
I found myself standing in this seemingly destitute place with Foster and Brent, two visual arts graduate students, after meeting them in a coffee shop a few hours before. Foster approached me while I
was working on a project. “Are you a monk?” he asked (presumably in reference to my religious habit). Assuming “no, I am a canon regular” would be too confusing, and “why else would I wear white
after labor day?” too sarcastic, I simply responded “yes.” Foster wished to discuss a project he was
working on, an artist monastery—an intentional artistic community based on monastic principles.
Intrigued, I agreed to entertain his questions and visit his work site.
W
hy an artist in the midst of a seemingly destitute environment? Why an artist in search of a monk?
Our contemporary societies often live from the assumption that human reason, intelligence, and ingenuity can solve all ills—that if we can only qualify, quantify, analyze, and assess the world all will be
well. If something cannot be commodified or accounted for, it might as well not exist. Hence in a world bound
by empiricism, the prince’s transcendent optimism proves him to be a fool. We succumb to the internal inertia
of our human immanence, drowning “wonder, curiosity, [and] moral and political adventure…”3 in our own fini1 Graham Golden, O. Praem. is a member of the Norbertine Community of Santa Maria de la Vid Abbey in Albuquerque, NM. He is currently pursuing a Masters in Divinity at the Catholic Theological Union with an emphasis in intercultural ministries. Graham completed a Masters of Arts at the
University of Chicago School of Social Service Administration in 2014 with a broad focus on macro-level social interventions in policy and social
program development. Graham graduated summa cum laude from the University of New Mexico College of Fines Arts with B.A. in music and Spanish and a minor in philosophy. His research background includes ethnographic sketches of the role and impact of liturgical musical inculturation
within indigenous communities. Currently, Graham is focused on the connection between the sacramental imagination and social transformation,
as well as the role parish communities play in developing resilience in vulnerable populations.
2 Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Idiot, trans. Evan Martin (Auckland, NZ, The Floating Press: 2009), 756.
3 Gilbert K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy (New York, John Lane Company: 1914 c. 1908), 230.
82
tude. And yet, as through the prince’s experience of love, something tells us that codes, laws, and systems (as
good as they may be) do not in themselves make us fully human. There is something more, something in the
abstract expanses of our mind and the intimate recesses of our heart that points us beyond ourselves. All our
complexprocesses of thought, even scientific, are forged in the foundry of metaphor,4 and metaphor is cast by
the crucible of imagination. We cannot escape it, but we can ignore it.
Our imagination has forgotten to be imaginative. It now only visions what is already known to be possible—it
does not reach beyond itself. Utilitarian presumptions, cost benefit analyses, efficiency, and productivity guide
our visions of the future. As Albert Einstein famously said, “imagination is more important than knowledge. For
knowledge is limited to all we now know and understand, while imagination embraces the entire world, and all
there ever will be to know and understand.” If we can come to imagine that which is beyond the confines of our
current knowledge (to see beyond ourselves) then we may imagine the world anew. Our imagination may then
be governed by virtue, wonder, and hope and not by the bottom line. It may delight in the beautiful.
Beauty is that which can pull us outside ourselves and allow us to reclaim a fuller humanity and a more creative
vision of hope. Pope Benedict XVI taught that “authentic beauty…unlocks the yearning of the human heart, the
profound desire to know, to love, to go towards the Other, to reach for the Beyond.”5As we are captivated by
beauty, we are inspired to imagine new possibilities for living and are impelled to proclaim these in word, image, and action. This capacity to think and encounter realities yet to be empirically known is seen by John Paul
Lederach as the hope for bringing about peace and reconciliation in the most devastating of human conflicts.
Hope, peace and reconciliation are ideas which hold their origin in revealed senses of truth. They are not simply
imaginaries, they are virtuous sensibilities. They are indeed things of beauty.
This beauty may often seem to dwell in the realm of the aesthetic, the poetic—embedded in the narrative of our
faith expressed through its artistic imagination. “The Catholic religious sensibility is often almost overwhelmed
by the thickness of the metaphors in its dense forest of imagery and story.”6 Our collective imagination has produced great works of sacred art, music, and literature. These imaginative expressions even concretely impact the
lives of the faithful.7 This is because the beauty in which we imagine comes to form us as we think and as we live.
As G.K. Chesterton writes, “wonder…is not a mere fancy derived from the fairy tales; on the contrary, all the fire
of the fairy tales is derived from this [wonder].”8 It becomes a celebration of that which was unseen because of
narrow presumptions and perceptions. Thus the artist believes his or her vocation can be at the service of human suffering and social degradation.
However, to live from beauty is to do more than create beautiful imagery, it is to live in a beautiful way to form
a beautiful social imaginary. Imagination is to be directed toward the good, to be moral, which “…requires…the
acceptance of the inherent risk of stepping into the mystery of the unknown…”9 “…Risk accepts vulnerability and
lets go of the need to a priori control the process or the outcome of human affairs.”10 Our life as consecrated
religious uniquely positions us to take the risk of entering into mystery (beauty) and come to image our world
anew. Beauty does not seek concrete ends—outcomes and operationalization—but the elevation of the human
spirit. To inspire imagination, the artist turns to the historically quintessential radical—the religious.
4 George Lakoff, “The Contemporary Theory of Metaphor” in Metaphor and Thought, ed. Andrew Ortony (New York: Cambridge University press,
1993).
5 Benedict XVI, “Meeting with Artists” (November 29, 2009).
6 Andrew Greeley, The Catholic Imagination (Berkeley, University of California Press: 2000), 10.
7 Greeley, Catholic Imagination, 184.
8 Chesterton, Orthodoxy, 80.
9 John Paul Lederach, The Moral Imagination: The Art and Soul of Building Peace (New York, Oxford University Pres: 2005), 5.
10 Lederach, Moral Imagination, 163.
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The foundational characteristic of the evangelical counsels embody a willful relinquishing of control, of dominating power, of particular relationships, of material attachment. If lived well, it is a life lived in search of transcendence, a life lived in wonder, of openness. What is a more existential risk than to give ones entire life to an idea
in hope that it is also real? This idea is in fact a person, Jesus Christ. It is from the love encountered in the incarnation and paschal mystery that the moral, relational and social imagination is formed that undergirds our lives
of poverty, obedience, and consecrated celibacy which we believe lead us in conversion and service to uncover
the beauty in our world. Rather than enforcing the values of a throw-away economy,11 our lives are free to risk
living in another realm visibly distinct and different from the status quo.
As religious we are gifted with the freedom to become icons of the social and moral visions just as great works
of sacred art become icons of our narrative imaginaries. As the great baroque Churches of Europe depict eschatological visions to stimulate our senses, so too must our lives as ones striving to conform in a unique way to
that of Jesus Christ act as stimulus to inspire new ways for our societies to imagine their own manner of being.
As the Christian gazing upon Bernini’s “Ecstasy of St. Theresa” contemplates how intimately our encounter with
God can be, so too should he or she be able to contemplate the meta-worldliness of God’s values through the
counter-cultural values of religious life. Through the radical risk of living a life of virtuous beauty, we can come
to not only imagine but to know something of a “kingdom of truth and life, a kingdom of holiness and grace, a
kingdom of justice, love and peace.”12
I cannot prescribe what this would be for each community for then it would become programmatic and bound
by controlled measures. I can demonstrate when it has occurred. When we live this beauty, the previously inconceivable virtues of the Trappist monks of the Algerian monastery of Tibhirine, of saints like Maximilian Kolbe
and Edith Stein, and figures like Sister Ita Ford and her companions, and St. Josephine Bakhita become visible.
By living from the gratuitousness, mercy, and communion these become a sensible reality. They cease to be
abstract musings of the imagination and the beauty which we see in faith becomes visible to others. This is our
call as religious—to love beauty so that we may live beauty. Even amidst violence, hate, separation, and isolation; if there is compassion, mercy, and love then beauty exists for God’s vision persists. Pope Francis exhorts
religious that “the apostolic effectiveness of consecrated life does not depend on the efficiency of its methods. It
depends on the eloquence of your lives, lives which radiate the joy and beauty of living the Gospel and following
Christ to the full.”13
Consecrated life has served as an eschatological imaginary since the time of the early church.14 It can also become a social and relational imaginary, but to be so it must be tangibly visible and known in our world. Choosing
to live beauty by taking the risk to enter into mystery is a radical task, but then Christianity is a radical idea. If
we take up the freedom given us by the evangelical counsels and live from the possibility of the moral imagination, we may glimpse God’s Kingdom which is “…already present in mystery.”15 By living the beauty which we
contemplate through our imagination, we are called to not so much be contemplatives in action, but contemplation in action—living lives that unveil beauty so that the world may once again wonder in that which transcends
our very being. It may seem to the world that we are fools, holy fools. Well, so be it! As St. Augustine exhorted
his community in the fourth century, may consecrated religious in the 21st century “be lovers of spiritual beauty,
giving forth the good odor of Christ in holiness of conduct, not as slaves under the law but free under grace.”16
11 Francis, Evangelii Gaudium (2014), no. 53.
12 Second Vatican Council, Lumen Gentium (1964), no. 36.
13 Francis, Apostolic Letter of His Holiness Pope Francis to All Consecrated People on the Occasion of the Year of Consecrated Life (2014), no. 3.
14 Cf. Gregory of Nyssa, Life of Macrina.
15 Second Vatican Council, Gaudium et Spes (1965), no. 39.
16 Augustine, The Rule of St. Augustine, 8.1.
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Fall in Love Everyday
by Christa Parra, IBVM1
I
Nothing i1s more practical than finding God, than falling in Love in a quite absolute, final way. What
you are in love with, what seizes your imagination, will affect everything. It will decide what will get
you out of bed in the morning, what you do with your evenings, how you spend your weekends, what
you read, whom you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude.
Fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything.2 Jesuit Priest Pedro Arrupe (1907-1991)
n the romantic comedy 50 First Dates, Henry (Adam Sandler) falls in love with Lucy (Drew Barrymore).3 They
meet in a restaurant that Lucy frequents for breakfast as part of her daily ritual. It is evident that there is great
chemistry between Lucy and Henry, but the next day she doesn’t remember the encounter at all. Everyday
Lucy wakes up and her mind is like a clean slate, as a result of a serious car accident that caused her to lose her
short-term memory. Henry is determined to get Lucy to fall in love with him each day. Although this movie is
silly at times, it teaches us about a person’s daily commitment to love another. I think it is the same with God.
Scripture tells us “We have come to know and to believe in the love God has for us. God is love, and whoever
remains in love remains in God and God in him [or her]” (1 Jn. 4:16; NABRE). God has fallen in love with us and
shows up everyday just to get us to fall in love with the divine. Just reflecting on our daily experiences reveals
that our days are filled with gifts, miracles, and blessings from our Beloved. In our struggles and sorrows, God’s
love is still there, even when we don’t feel it. I believe what makes falling in love so romantic is receiving the gift
of a special person’s presence, attention, and affection. The quote attributed to Pedro Arrupe shows another
important element of falling in love. It is an invitation for all people in any vocation to respond to love with love.
Loving God is a daily commitment. Only when we are committed to loving God each day can our falling in love
turn into staying in love. It does decide everything.
The first time I encountered Arrupe’s quote, I had just entered religious life with the Institute of the Blessed
Virgin Mary (IBVM). These captivating words were printed on the front of a greeting card from one of our sisters, welcoming me to the community. I was fascinated by the way Arrupe expressed making our relationship
with God the center of our lives and the motivating force for everything we do. A major shift was already taking
place in my life as I was preparing to continue formation in Illinois. This step meant leaving my beautiful Arizona
desert home, my job at the bank, loving parents and grandparents, wonderful brothers, and lots of dear family
and friends. But I had fallen in love with God and it did change everything. I felt called to take a leap of faith and
1 Christa Parra joined the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary (IBVM) in 2008. She has a BA in Communications with a minor in Public
Relations and Spanish from Grand Canyon University. She is currently an M.Div. student. She loves spending time with family, her
religious sisters, and friends. She enjoys running and dancing.
2 Fr. Pedro Arrupe, SJ, “Fall in Love,” http://www.ignatianspirituality.com/ignatian-prayer/prayers-by-st-ignatius-and-others/fall-inlove/.accessed January 11, 2015.
3 Peter Segal, 50 First Dates, DVD, Romantic Comedy (Sony Picture, 2004) http://www.sonypictures.com/movies/50firstdates/.
85
follow the peace and joy I felt after six years of discerning religious life. I traveled nearly 2,000 miles to continue
discovering how to love God as an IBVM.
Arrupe describes how falling in love affects everything a person does. My life certainly changed from working at
a nine-to-five job at the bank to being a novice in canonical year. My daily schedule was no longer my own. Even
though there was a certain amount of flexibility, I had fixed times for prayer, Mass, meals, formation meetings,
vow workshops, and ministry. During this time of formation, I met so many incredible community members, associates of the sisters, and new friends in the intercommunity novitiate and at CTU. I learned more about the
Scriptures and deepened my relationship with God especially in the person of Jesus. I studied about Venerable
Mary Ward, our founder, and our Constitutions that are inspired by St. Ignatius of Loyola and Ignatian spirituality. During that process, I was also learning more about who I am and how I love. Near Arrupe’s quote in my
room, there is another favorite quote of mine. It says, “Only in responding to love do we become ourselves.”4 In
responding to God’s love for me, I was becoming more fully myself.
I also learned that staying in love and cultivating this love affair takes time. We have this magnificent gift of
energy and it matters how we use it and with whom. I am convinced that as contemplatives in action we are
called to make prayer the center of our lives. We need the stillness, spiritual direction, and the annual retreat to
cultivate our love affair with our Beloved. On the soundtrack of 50 First Dates, the band 311 performs a cover
of a song called Love Song, originally by the Cure—“Whenever I’m alone with you, you make me feel like I am
home again. Whenever I’m alone with you, you make me feel like I am whole again… However long I stay I will
always love you.”5 We need the alone time with God to feel at home again, especially when we feel so far from
our native land, our families, and friends. We need the alone time with God to feel whole again especially when
we feel broken or in chaos. When we nurture our relationship with God, our first love, we are empowered and
energized to love each person we encounter in healthy, whole, and passionate ways.
We need community, family, and friends to “stay in love” with God. Jesuit author James Martin writes, “One of
the main goals of chastity is to love as many people as possible as deeply as possible.”6 We love God by loving
God’s people. We in turn receive God’s love through our community members, family, friends, and those we accompany in ministry. Relationships sustain us in this journey of love. Our vows invite us to love inclusively and to
honor God to whom we are committed. The beauty of Arrupe’s quote is that it shows that love is not static, but
evolving as we live into our vocation. It doesn’t just happen once. We fall in love again and again and have the
opportunity to recommit ourselves to staying in love again and again. It does decide everything. Just as we see
various expression of love in romantic comedies and listen to them in beautiful love songs, we must remember
that God shows up to fall in love with us each day as well. Arrupe invites us to show up for God, to: “Fall in love,
stay in love, and it will decide everything.”
4 Ruth Burrows, Interior Castle Explored: St. Teresa’s Teaching on the Life of Deep Union With God (Mahwah, NJ: Hidden Spring, 2007),
17.
5 “The Cure: Official Site Discography : Love Song,” August 19, 1989, http://www.thecure.com/discography/1255/lovesong.
6 James Martin, The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything: A Spirituality for Real Life (New York: HarperOne, 2012), 220.
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The Church’s Best-kept Secret
by David A. Hirt, O.F.M. Cap.1
W
hen I was asked to write about an aspect of religious life that interested me, one thing came to mind.
For me, this one thing is perhaps the least understood aspect of religious life today. The ironic thing is
that this one thing is the very backbone of men’s religious life: the lay brotherhood.
When I first began to realize that I was being called to a religious vocation, I was at a loss. I knew that I was not
called to priesthood and my only other understanding of vocation for a man was that of monastic life. Like many
people in the Church, I had no knowledge of there being something called the lay brother. My understanding of
holiness for a man was priesthood or cloistered prayer. When I discovered the lay brotherhood, however, everything made sense. I had a distinct sense that my vocation lay in that way of life.
For centuries in the Church, the lay brotherhood had a very distinct vocation: we were the servants of the priest
friars. We did the menial tasks while the priests did ministry. We were the cooks and workmen and tailors and
janitors. We were questers and porters. We were the backbone of the praying community and the core of the
fraternity. We were also, in many ways, second-class citizens relegated to separate formation programs and
separate recreation areas.1
This stigma is still attached to the brotherhood in places today. Some religious orders place great pressure on
their young men in formation to be priests because they feel it is the “real” ministry. A lay brother can often be
seen as someone who isn’t a priest… yet, or a failed priest; someone not intelligent enough to do the priestly
ministry. We have been asked why we only want to be “half a man.” And these questions can all come from
other religious.
The faithful can be just as misunderstanding. They ask, “Don’t you want to be a priest?” “We need priests. You
should be one.” “Why don’t you go ‘all the way’?” When we try to explain to them they say “I’ll pray for you,”
meaning they’ll pray we get with the “real” vocation of being a priest. The first time someone was talking to me
and, realizing my vocation, said, “Oh, you’re just a brother,” I was devastated.
One of the causes of the issues in the life of the religious brother came with Vatican II and a desire to make the
religious brother an equal member of his order. For many brothers, it meant that everyone in the order took to
calling himself “brother” whereas before there was always a distinction between the fathers and the brothers.
It meant getting an education equal to that of the priest candidates. It meant being allowed to partake in other
ministries such as preaching and spiritual direction, teaching and administration. I would never say that these
are bad things. These changes did, however, cause the religious brother to loose a sense of identity. He used to
1 Br. David Hirt, OFM, Cap. professed his perpetual vows in July of 2013. He graduated with an AB from Wabash College, received an MFA from Wayne
State University in Scenic Design, graduated with an MDiv from CTU in 2013 and is currently doing the summer Christian Spirituality Program at
Creighton University. After graduating from CTU he spent a year and a half at St. Lawrence Seminary High School as a Spiritual Director and Campus
Minister and is currently the Activities Coordinator at St. Ben’s Community Meal in Milwaukee. He is a poet and an artist..
be the servant of the servants of God and took delight and strength and purpose in that designation. What can
he say when everyone is equal but that he isn’t ordained? That the difference between him and a priest is that he
doesn’t do sacramental work? How does it affect a person when the only way he can define himself is by what he
doesn’t do compared to someone else? Even calling ourselves “lay brothers” is a misnomer. We are not laymen,
we are religious, but we are caught up in a lay/cleric dichotomy.
This sense of reclaiming an identity is perhaps the central issue for religious brothers all over the United States. I
can’t speak for religious brothers in other countries about their major issues, but I know that in some countries
for a man to enter religious life and not be ordained is a source of great shame, not only for himself, but for his
family as well.
So who is the religious brother? We keep asking ourselves this question. For me, it means that I walk with the
people around me: my brothers and sisters, as an equal or even a lesser person. I don’t get put on a pedestal
like a priest does. I have no authority granted me by the Church by nature of my vocation. The only authority I
have is any God-given authority that my brothers and sisters in the Church recognize in me. Unlike a priest or a
married man I am not called to a vocation of fatherhood whether spiritual or biological. I am called to be brother
to the world. I’ve tried to explain all this to other people before and I more often than not get a look of total incomprehension. The ones who get it, though, are often on the same vocational path that God has chosen for me.
The struggle to find our identity, or maybe more exactly, our lack of a distinctive identity, may be our greatest
strength. We have a possibility to forge new ministerial ground by not being caught up in old expectations. We
are a present in search of a future.
I wouldn’t change my vocation for anything. I’m blessed that God has chosen me to serve him and those he loves
in this way. I like being a brother. It’s the Church’s best-kept secret and I hope the word gets out.
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