Father Jacques Dupuis - Debate
Toward a Christian Theology of Religious Pluralism
JACQUES DUPUIS
Reviewed by Gerald O'Collins
The Tablet, 24 January 1998
More than 25 years ago in Northern India I first met Fr Dupuis. That meeting prefigured my contact with his remarkable book, and was also thoroughly physical. As he gunned his Yugoslavian motorcycle along narrow roads in the foothills of the Himalayas, I clung to him for dear life and prayed not to fall into the cavernous valleys that flanked our route to a high-altitude Buddhist monastery. After visiting the monks Dupuis roared off down another road to a self-help Tibetan refugee camp directed by the Dalai Lama's sister-in-law and then to a mountaineering school run by the Sherpa Tensing who had conquered Mount Everest in 1953 with Sir Edmund Hillary. These visits shaped my first impressions of Jacques Dupuis as someone who wanted direct contact with other religious traditions and was certainly not content to learn about them simply by reading texts at his desk.
The more than 20 years he spent teaching in an international theological college near Darjeeling offered him a privileged setting for interreligious dialogue. The Nepalese, Indians, Bhutanese, Chinese and Europeans who live and work in that region make it a mini-league of nations, with representatives from many of the great religious traditions of the world: Buddhism, Christianity, Confucianism and Hinduism. The setting for thinking about God the Creator and the cosmic Christ is unique: across immense valleys, forests and tea plantations one contemplates the majesty of the Himalayas and their eternal snow.
Dupuis' latest book has appeared simultaneously in English, French and Italian. Doubtless a Spanish translation will soon be on the scene. A genuinely magisterial work, it brings together a lifetime of study and experience to outline a profound theological shift in the Christian understanding of other religions. Instead of merely asking whether salvation can occur for members of these other traditions, Dupuis struggles with the question of how in God's providence these traditions mediate salvation to their members. His book represents an attempt to expound in today's context two key affirmations from the Book of Acts. On the one hand, Jesus is the unique and universal Saviour, "the only name by which we can be saved" (Acts 4:12). On the other hand, the divine self-witness is available to all people (Acts 4:17).
After examining the approaches that Christians have taken to other religions down the centuries, Dupuis looks in detail at the Second Vatican Council's teaching on other faiths. He completes the first half of his book by presenting the postconciliar official teaching and recent theological debates about Jesus, Christianity and the other religions.
In part two he moves to a constructive synthesis under the title "One God - One Christ - Convergent Paths". Here he aims to show how "a Trinitarian, Christological model is capable of holding in creative tension the depth of God's commitment to humankind in Jesus and the authenticity of other paths in accord with divine providence". As revealer and Redeemer, Jesus is one and universal, yet in practice the visible paths to salvation have remained many. Dupuis argues that in God's providence religious pluralism exists not merely in fact but also in principle. His Christian faith underpins the hope that all the diverse religious paths will converge towards the final, universal reign of God in Jesus Christ.
Above all in the second part Dupuis appeals consistently to the active presence of the Word of God and of the Divine Spirit. Without challenging the validity of such appeals, I wonder whether the Wisdom of God might offer another helpful interpretative key. Every culture and every religion yields wisdom about such matters as prayer, family life and social behaviour. Christianity has inherited from Judaism the wisdom books of the Old Testament, which even before the coming of Jesus offered a kind of "ecumenical" bridge to the non-Jewish world. To be sure, as a personification of divine activity "Wisdom" normally functioned synonymously with "Word" and "Spirit". Nevertheless, only Lady Wisdom gave her name to a whole series of inspired books. From the time of St Paul, Christians have identified Jesus as the holy Wisdom of God. The week of preparation for the feast of Christmas, which we have recently celebrated, is a week that begins with the "O Antiphon" that celebrates Christ as "the Wisdom who comes from the mouth of the most High God". The manifest presence of that wisdom everywhere underpins a Christian conviction: "Where there is Wisdom there is Christ". In short, it seems worth developing a Christian theology of world religions also in the key of the Wisdom of God.
Let me end by recognising this book as a superb contribution to interreligious dialogue and theology. The "toward" in its title reflects Dupuis' modesty: he wishes to make some proposals for fruitful Christian lines of approach to other religions. Yet the book is also courageously adventurous and takes me back to the time when he raced me around the lower slopes of the Himalayas. One cannot hope to do much more than explore the foothills of God's majestic providence for all human beings. But when sharing in that exploring I am very happy once again to hang on to Fr Dupuis.
Don't wall up the faith
The Tablet, 21 November 1998
FR JACQUES DUPUIS, who since 1984 has taught at Rome's Gregorian University, is a theologian of high calibre. He is also an expert on dialogue between the religions. When last year he published his book on the subject, the presentation was attended not only by the then rector of the Gregorian, Fr Giuseppe Pittau, but, among others, by Bishop Michael Fitzgerald of the Council for Interreligious Dialogue and the president of the Italian Theological Association. Their presence attested to the respect in which Fr Dupuis is held.
It comes as a bombshell, therefore, to find that the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith has been investigating the views expressed in Fr Dupuis' book, and the news will add to the growing concern about the present operations of that congregation. The letter to Fr Dupuis written by the president of the Indian bishops' conference, Archbishop Henry D'Souza of Calcutta, is eloquent. "I could hardly believe the news", the archbishop told Fr Dupuis. As he says, the Jesuit theologian has been known for his orthodoxy.
The usual faults in the doctrinal congregation's procedures apply in this case. Thus Fr Dupuis does not know who his accusers were, nor who was chosen to present his case; he cannot therefore tell whether these were persons of sufficient weight to be able to understand his very complex work, let alone judge it. Such procedures, in which the congregation is assessor, jury and judge, fall far short of the minimum that would be regarded as just in the secular world.
Archbishop D'Souza uses a particularly telling image: "He who steals my purse steals trash, he who steals my name steals all I have." The Church has to ask itself how it can give a better example to believers and non-believers of how to dialogue with its intellectuals, in a spirit that treats them always as Christian brothers and sisters who are partners in a joint enterprise, and who must be presumed innocent unless proved at fault.
Theologians, as Archbishop D'Souza points out, cannot simply repeat the words of the past. They have to try to go beyond. It is significant that Fr Dupuis' book is concerned with some of the same issues that Tissa Balasuriya, the Sri Lankan theologian who was excommunicated for a year, tried to tackle: the question of salvation outside the Church, for example. This is a difficult area, but vital for the dialogue between the religions which must characterise the third millennium. To tackle it, a theologian needs creativity - exactly the quality praised and commended by Pope John Paul II in his recent encyclical Faith and Reason .
Creativity cannot flourish if it is constantly suspected and checked. Pope Paul VI reversed the order of the two functions of the doctrinal congregation. First, he said, it should promote good theology; secondly, it should guard the faith against bad theology. Yet it is hard to think of any famous theologian in the Church today who has received encouragement rather than censure. The Church must do better than this.
Justice begins at home
LADISLAS ORSY 16 January, 1999
The procedures under which Jacques Dupuis's book is being investigated in Rome are among those scrutinised below by the professor of philosophy of law and canon law at Georgetown University Law Centre, Washington DC. Fr Orsy argues that these procedures fall below the standard of justice expected in the secular world.
Across the face of the earth, there is a compelling hunger for justice and a persistent cry demanding respect for human rights. The Church hears the cry, responds with solemn pronouncements, and is a forceful advocate of human dignity. The Church, however, speaks not only with words but also with actions: it is called to proclaim the Good News with signs and symbols as well. Judicial proceedings within the Catholic Church are part of such signs and symbols.
On 29 June 1997, the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith promulgated new procedural rules entitled "Regulations for the Examination of Doctrines". They have superseded the norms published in 1971. The explanatory note issued by the Holy See said that after 25 years of experience it had been decided "to prepare new regulations that might respond even better to the demands of the present day".
By referring to "the demands of the present day" - demands of justice, obviously - the document itself invites us to consider whether it meets them.
Part I: The regulations
Let us look first at the provisions for an "examination in ordinary form", where the aim is to decide whether there are erroneous and/or dangerous propositions in the writings.
The process consists of two sequences: the first is internal and takes place in complete secrecy. The congress (1) commissions a council of consultors to examine the writings in question and to ascertain if the author's doctrine does, or does not, conform to the Church's teaching.
To help these experts, the congress appoints a "relator for the author". His task is to represent and uphold the author's interest, ensure that the author's opinions are correctly understood, and see that the examiners are informed of the "positive aspects" of the author's writings.
The consultors conclude their investigation with a formal session. Taking into account the earlier study prepared by the office, they discuss the case. The relator for the author must be present and has a voice; the Ordinary (2) of the author may also be invited to participate in the debate (if so, he is bound to secrecy).
Once the formal discussion is over, the consultors alone decide if the author's writings contain erroneous propositions and/or dangerous opinions.
The criteria for the identification of an offence are much broader than the denial of an article of faith. They include not only the Nicene Creed, subsequent solemn definitions, and determinations by the ordinary magisterium, or teaching office, but also "definitive teachings" given by the popes and the episcopal college and official pronouncements even if not intended to be definitive.
We have to recall that the formula of the profession of faith introduced in 1983 by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith contains a novelty: it includes acceptance of doctrine definitively declared by the magisterium and submission to non- definitively intended official pronouncements. It would be hard to find a precedent in Christian history, Eastern or Western, for such a presentation of a profession of faith.
The council's judgment with all the acts and minutes is then brought before the ordinary session of the congregation.3 The members may decide either not to pursue the case any further or to continue it by confronting the author with his erroneous propositions and/or dangerous opinions.
The congregation's decision must in any case be submitted to the pope.
If the pope agrees to the confrontation, the case moves on. For all practical purposes the author under investigation is charged with spreading erroneous or dangerous opinions. His Ordinary, all other Ordinaries who may have interest in the case, and the competent departments of the Holy See are informed.
There follows a second sequence with limited publicity. The focus of the proceedings now turns from an examination of the writings to a trial of the person.
The author is informed of the findings through his Ordinary and is given a list of the erroneous or dangerous propositions found in his writings with due explanations for the negative judgments. The regulations do not say who is competent to provide these explanations, and the identity of the "explainer" cannot be revealed.
With the consent of his Ordinary, the author is entitled to appoint an "adviser" for himself. This adviser is not an advocate with the legal right of defending the author; he is closer to a private counsellor who has the right to be present at his side.
The author has three months to respond to the congregation concerning the propositions which are contested. His Ordinary is encouraged to express an opinion.
The author has no right to appear before his judges, but the congregation (presumably the prefect) may grant him permission, with his adviser present, to hold a dialogue with the delegates of the congregation. At the meeting minutes must be taken and signed by all.
If the author does respond in this way, the congress is competent to receive his answer. Should it contain new grounds for reconsideration, the congress may choose to remit the case again to the council of consultors. The response of the author with the result of the renewed consultations (if any) must finally be submitted to the ordinary session of the congregation.
If the author does not respond, the same ordinary session is competent to take "an appropriate decision".
So much for the examination in ordinary form; let us now consider the provisions for an "examination in urgent form". This is a shortened version of the ordinary process described so far, to be used in an emergency. A "process in urgency" is authorised whenever it is clear and certain that the writings of an author contain errors that are either directly threatening the faith of the people or effectively causing damage among them.
The congress is competent to determine the existence of an emergency and the need for immediate action. Once this is done, it sends information to all Ordinaries who may have an interest in the case and to the competent departments of the Holy See. Then it appoints a commission to identify precisely the erroneous and dangerous opinions.
The harmful propositions are submitted to the ordinary session of the congregation which must give precedence to the case. If its judgment is condemnatory, the decision must go to the pope for his approval.
If the pope ratifies the sentence, the author is notified and is given three months to correct his opinions. He may request, however, permission to offer a written explanation. The ordinary session is competent to receive it and to judge it.
Incidentally, there is an inconsistency, real or verbal, in this section of the regulations. First the text states that the emergency procedures should be used openly in the case of "clear and certain" errors; then it speaks of its use in the case of "erroneous and dangerous propositions". They are not the same.
The congregation then has to decide the punishment. If the author has not corrected his errors "in a satisfactory way and with adequate publicity", and the ordinary session found him guilty of "the offence of heresy, apostasy, or schism", the congregation proceeds to declare the latae sententiae - that is, automatic - penalties incurred. The reference to a canon of the Code of Canon Law makes clear that the penalty is excommunication. "Against such a declaration no recourse is admitted." If the author has been found guilty of a lesser offence, the congregation is entitled to impose a lesser sanction according to the general norms of the law.
The two articles on appropriate sanctions have been specially approved by the Pope; that is, they have the binding force of a pontifical law.
Part II: The legal wisdom of our age
As I reflect on the legal wisdom of our age, I am really speaking of expectations, because we do not have anywhere in the world a perfect judicial system. We have convergent expectations that express the best that can be distilled from the experience and prudence of many nations. The more a judicial process fulfils such expectations, the better the cause of justice is served.
On purpose I avoid speaking about "due process", because the expression can generate misunderstandings - in two ways. First, the literal meaning of "due process" is a process "according to the requirements of the law" - hence, not arbitrary. By dry logic, it could be argued (and has been) that even judicial systems which are of poor standard are observant of "due process", since they conform to the local laws.
Secondly, since the expression is known as referring to the procedural rules of the common law of English origin, it can (as experience shows) provoke in persons unfamiliar with common law fear and suspicion that to invoke due process is to introduce alien conceptions into canon law.
The expectations I speak of go beyond the boundaries of any one legal system; they exist the world over among citizens of many nations. They focus on a "fair process" which include also much of what is best in the "due process" tradition.
In each of the following paragraphs, I shall state first a general principle held in honour by modern jurisprudence and meant to protect human rights; then I shall see how the procedures set out in the regulations correspond to such an expectation.
Justice demands the precise definition of an offence. The principle speaks for itself: the less precise the definition of a crime or offence is, the greater the danger of injustice in court proceedings because a great multitude of actions can be brought under the definition. A vague term opens the way to broad accusations and restricts the scope of the defence: that is why totalitarian states like to have definitions of crimes broadly drawn, such as "crime against the state" or "subversive speech".
The regulations name two offences (without giving any precise definition) that warrant investigation: "erroneous doctrine" and/or "dangerous doctrine" found in published writings.
"Erroneous doctrine" can have different meanings here. Catholic theology has always carefully distinguished between revealed articles of faith, beliefs connected with revelation (in various degrees), opinions commonly held by theologians, and so forth. If a position is judged erroneous, to understand the gravity of error one must know the authority of the truth that it seems to deny. The regulations do not take into account such a hierarchy of truths, insisted on by the Second Vatican Council. They allow proceedings (and condemnation) against the author even when he fully assents to the doctrine of faith but dissents from an official "definitive" or "non-definitive" proclamation.
The expression "dangerous doctrine" gives a broad scope to the examiners: with its help they can reach far and wide. The concept has no firm and objective limit. Dangers can be detected in many places; persons and communities can be seen as exposed to dangers in many ways. The perception of a danger can be subjective and deceptive: much depends on the mind of the observer.
I recall that many times at the Second Vatican Council, before the doctrine of episcopal collegiality was finally approved, its opponents demanded that the doctrine should be discarded since it was dangerous. It would undermine the primacy, they warned. Yet today we all hold that collegiality belongs to the core of Catholic beliefs. Down through Christian history, many more instances could be found when true insights emerged but many cried "danger". Is this not what happened in the case of Galileo? To make "danger" (ill-defined or not defined) a juridical ground for condemnation is to endanger the operation of justice itself.
Justice is best served when in the process the respective roles of the judge, the prosecutor, and the defendant are kept apart.The aim of any judicial process is to help the judge (or jury) arrive at an impartial and detached judgment. The accumulated experience of courts and tribunals (an experience that has its origin in ancient civilisations) has shown that when the roles are fused, justice is imperilled. The reason is the limitations of our human nature: the dynamics of the investigation and of the trial carry the prosecutor (or the examiner) in one direction, the defendant in another. If either assumes the role of the judge as well, the objective outcome of the trial is put in jeopardy.
In the "Regulations for the Examination of Doctrines" this classical distinction is not honoured. The same organs of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith initiate the investigation, establish the charges, and then pronounce judgment over both the writings and the writer. In practice, the same persons are investigators, prosecutors, and judges.
Equity (which is the perfection of justice) postulates that each of the opposing parties has a similar opportunity to plead their case before the judge. A trial is nothing else than a dialectical argumentation to bring the judge (and all others concerned) as close to the truth as possible. Justice postulates "fair play", that is, a similar measure for both sides. If one of the parties is not heard as well and as fully as the other, that party is exposed to the risk of not being heard at all.
The regulations, however, grant different measures (far from any equal time) respectively to the accusers and the defender. During the first part of the ordinary process, where a crucial decision is taken about the meaning of the author's writings, he is absent; he does not even know that there is a process. A relator appointed by the investigators is called to defend him and to clarify the sense of his contested publications. (Is there not a conflict of interest?)
If the outcome of the examination is negative, and the congregation finds the author's propositions erroneous or dangerous, his Ordinary and the competent offices of the Holy See are informed. In other words, the notice of the condemnation is spread and the author's reputation is affected without his ever having been notified of any problem, let alone having had a possibility to say a word in his own defence.
Many scholars, researchers and writers live and work in a culture and use a language different from those of the Roman examiners. The risk, therefore, of a serious misunderstanding is high. We have only to recall how theological misunderstandings between the Greeks and the Latins arose and led to mutual accusations and condemnations, and finally to the tragic separation of the Churches. Today we know that in spite of seemingly conflicting expressions the doctrine of faith has never been endangered.
The Church has nothing to lose and much to gain by taking all precautions against mistaken perceptions and letting a writer explain in person his position right at the moment when a serious problem first emerges.
The duty of the judge is to presume the accused innocent (and protect him) until the evidence proves beyond reasonable doubt that he is guilty.
In a developed system of justice, the principle of the presumption of innocence is an inviolable part of criminal proceedings. To speak of the duty of the judge may be an unusual way of presenting this principle, but it is a good way of stating it. It names the person who is mainly responsible for upholding the principle.
The presumption is not mentioned in the regulations. The first part of the "ordinary proceedings" is concerned with writings; in theory the person himself is not affected. So far, perhaps one can say that no presumption as to guilt or innocence exists in the examiners, one way or another.
If, however, their conclusion concerning the writings is negative, they must confront the author with the propositions that they have already judged erroneous and/or dangerous. How could they then presume the author to be innocent? There would be no problem if the examiners were merely accusers and an independent judge (or judges) watched over the confrontation. But that is not the case: the examiners (who are now accusers) will have a part in the final decision.
Incidentally, there is no reason why even within the congregation a system could not be set up where the judges remain distinct in every way from the accusers. After all, the Code of Canon Law prescribes that in every ecclesiastical tribunal there should be judges and a "promoter of justice" (whose task is analogous to that of the examiners). It is unthinkable that the same person should assume both tasks; if it ever happened, the sentence would be irreparably null and void.
All that affects a public sentence ought to be done openly. (Not only ought justice to be done; it ought also to be seen to be done.) The virtue of justice (as integrated with faith, hope, and love among Christians) is a powerful factor in forging unity in the community. For this reason, the whole judicial system of the Church should be a visible witness to evangelical justice for all who care to look. This is not to deny that prudence and discretion may require some confidentiality; it is to affirm that all that affects the public sentence should be done openly. A trial is never about one single individual: the accused is a member of a community of believers. Whether he is guilty or not, the community nurtured him and suffers with him. It should be informed. Such openness should not become unbridled publicity; there are many ways of communicating with responsible people.
Overall, the regulations fall short of the standards of an open trial: in particular, the first part of the ordinary proceedings is shrouded in complete secrecy.
The opportunity for appeal is an integral part of any good judicial system. To leave room for appeal is to acknowledge our human condition: we are fallible human beings - judges not excepted. A process with no possibility of appeal is a scary system for any lawyer to contemplate: it leaves no room for the correction of mistakes.
The regulations state that once the congregation has declared that the author has incurred automatic excommunication, "against such a declaration no recourse is admitted". In the explanatory notes the reason is given: throughout the process, the pope himself is involved, so there cannot be any room for appeal.
It is hardly conceivable, however, that the pope would invoke his full apostolic authority to pronounce an infallible judgment in an ordinary process. Further, his infallibility cannot be delegated to the congregation. It would, therefore, be rash to exclude the possibility of a miscarriage of justice.
We are touching on a substantial structural weakness in the regulations: a trial is directed immediately to the highest level, involving the pope himself. Sound jurisprudence would postulate a court or tribunal of first instance at a lower level from which there would be an appeal to a higher court. In marriage cases the Roman Rota admits an appeal even against its own decisions: how much more prudent it would be to admit an appeal in doctrinal cases!
As things are now, the pope must be involved in every single "doctrinal examination". Should ever a miscarriage of justice occur, it would immediately reflect on the papal office itself. Not a good prospect to contemplate.
Finally, the penalty of automatic excommunication. Excommunication is an extreme penalty in a Christian community: it is the wrenching of a member from the body of the believers. As with all extreme penalties, it punishes both the individual and the community. The individual is spiritually incapacitated: he cannot receive the sacraments. The community suffers the trauma of an amputation: it loses the support of an organ.
Automatic excommunication is an anachronism that hurts modern sensitivities: it operates in secrecy without control. The offender is mandated to be his own accuser and judge. He must cut himself off from the body.
It would be difficult to decide whether excommunications have done more good than harm to the Church throughout history. What we know for certain is that some excommunications have done enormous harm. We can recall the hasty and tragic gesture of Humbert, the papal legate in Constantinople, who in 1054 excommunicated the Patriarch and thus contributed to the enduring severance of the two sister Churches, East and West. Or we may ponder the impact of the excommunication in 1570 of Elizabeth I by Pius V; it was a harsh sentence that effectively destroyed any hope of reconciliation between the English monarchy and the see of Rome.
The regulations warn that if an accused does not correct his position within the time allotted to him, the congregation can proceed to the declaration of excommunication. This may happen even if the author has never had the opportunity to explain his mind to his judges.
The regulations ignore a crucial problem: the crime of heresy is an "obstinate denial" of an article of faith (canon 751); it is a surrender to falsehood while one sees the light. Such an act of self-destruction is certainly possible, no less than suicide is possible, but it is not an ordinary event. Even if it has been established that the writings of a person contain heretical propositions, it does not follow necessarily that he is guided by a perverse intention. To rush into the imposition of an extreme sentence (perhaps without ever having listened to the author) can hardly be the sign and symbol of justice - let alone Christian mercy. Most of the time, for the good of the community, it should be enough to state with authority what our Catholic doctrine is, and what our tradition is not - and then let time, fraternal correction, and divine grace have their gentle impact on the author.
Many thoughtful theologians and canonists suggested before the last revision of the Code of Canon Law that automatic excommunications (their name was Legion) should be abolished altogether. The revision cancelled out many but retained a few. To delete them all from canon law would be no loss to the faithful - or to the reputation of the Church.
One story that is unfolding now should give us pause: there is an increasing consensus among theologians and historians that, on several counts, the Council of Trent misunderstood the teachings of the Reformers and consequently several of its anathemas were misplaced. Ecumenical scholars are putting immense effort into the disentangling of such mistakes; and as truth reveals itself the expressions of regrets are becoming more numerous. If such misunderstandings could occur at an ecumenical council, they could surely occur within the Church's ordinary administration.
Conclusion: Creating a climate of trust
An immediate conclusion emerges in stark simplicity: for anyone educated in the sensitivities of modern jurisprudence, the regulations do not in fact respond "to the demands of the present day". Overall, they are not signs or symbols of justice. They have their roots in past ages which did not have the same vision of the dignity of human person and the same respect for honest conscience that is demanded the world over today.
On reflection, the conclusion expands: the regulations do not really fulfil the mandate of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, as this mandate is stated in its own documents. The integral mission of the congregation goes well beyond investigating, prosecuting, and punishing offences against the faith. It embraces the "promoting and safeguarding" of the "doctrine of faith and morals throughout the Catholic world".
In the Catholic world, the best way of promoting and safeguarding the doctrine of faith is to create a climate of trust where the process described by St Anselm of Canterbury as "faith seeking understanding" (fides quaerens intellectum) can flourish. Such a search for understanding is carried out mostly (not exclusively) by professional theologians. To attract young and talented persons to choose theological research and reflection as their vocation, to strengthen those who are already dedicated to that work, and to lift the spirit of those who are struggling with the hard issues of our days, an environment of freedom and confidence is absolutely necessary. Such an environment cannot exist if investigations, accusations, and even condemnations are allowed to take place in secrecy.
Creative thinkers who scrutinise the divine mysteries and give us a language to speak about them must be constantly aware that the Church trusts them and protects them. If norms are needed to prevent deviations, norms are even more needed to secure legitimate freedom for creative thinking.
In truth, creative thinkers are one of the greatest assets of the Church today - and ever. The recent encyclical of Pope John Paul II on faith and reason, Fides et Ratio, is, every page of it, a solemn proclamation of this truth. As our world evolves, new questions are continually addressed to the Church about how to understand revelation, about the role of religion in the political society, justice in the distribution of the resources of the earth, issues of morality, and so forth. Learned persons who are capable of reaching new insights into our old tradition can be of valuable (even indispensable) assistance to the hierarchy who have the final judgment in doctrinal matters and to all the faithful who are seeking insight into the mysteries with a sincere heart. This was the ministry of St Thomas Aquinas or of Cardinal John Henry Newman.
The judicial procedures of the regulations are entirely of human composition. They are not rooted in any venerable tradition: they are the product of post-Tridentine defensive policies. To work for their reform is not to harm any divine institution; quite the contrary. It is to accept, honour and obey the forceful admonition of the Second Vatican Council. "Christ summons the Church, as she goes her pilgrim way, to that continual reformation of which she always has need, insofar as she is a human institution here on earth", said the council in its decree on ecumenism.
Ultimately, we should trust the internal strength of the word of God. Cardinal Newman's insight in his Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine, chapter 5, remains as valid today as ever: "The stronger and more living is an idea, that is, the more powerful hold it exercises on the minds of men, the more able is it to dispense with safeguards, and trust to itself against the danger of corruption."
There is no stronger "idea" given to the human family than the "idea" of Christianity. It is born from God and the source of its "internal vigour" (Newman's words) is the ever-living Spirit. Its power over the minds of human beings is immense. It follows that the prime purpose of our norms, regulations, and procedures should not be to protect the idea (since it can trust to itself against the danger of corruption), but to secure an environment of freedom where it can spread, take roots in minds and hearts, and bring forth fruit a hundredfold.
1 The daily work of the congregation is done by a permanent staff called the office. The major administrators of the congregation (prefect, secretary, heads of sections etc.) form a council named the congress: its principal task is to examine and prepare cases and issues to be submitted to the ordinary session of the members of the congregation itself.
2 In the Catholic Church an Ordinary is anyone who has quasi-episcopal jurisdiction: commonly, diocesan bishops, but also, for example, vicars general, and superiors of orders, abbots.
3 When the term "congregation" is used generally, it designates a department within the administrative structure of the Holy See.
When the same term is used canonically, it means a group of cardinals and bishops (exceptionally also clerics of leser dignity) who together, as a collective body, are in charge of a department: they are the congregation. They meet either in plenary session (about once a year), to which the members from the world over are invited, or in ordinary session (weekly or less frequently), where the members resident in Rome are expected to be present.
This is an edited and shortened version of a text which was originally published in German in the Jesuit journal Stimmen der Zeit of Munich, and in English in the Dominican journal Doctrine and Life of Dublin.
In defence of Fr Dupuis
CARDINAL FRANZ KÖNIG
The Tablet 16 January, 1999
16 January, 1999
Cardinal König has always been fascinated by the world religions, and their relationship with Christianity. He finds great value in the recent book on the subject by Jacques Dupuis, the Jesuit theologian who teaches at the Gregorian University in Rome. But the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith is investigating the book.
I have been fascinated by Fr Jacques Dupuis's latest masterly work, Toward a Christian Theology of Religious Pluralism. I studied it intently for several weeks after reading The Tablet's review of it by Fr Gerald O'Collins SJ in January last year. He acknowledged it to be a major contribution to present-day interreligious dialogue, and I was glad to see reported in The Tablet the comments of Archbishop Henry D'Souza of Calcutta who also regards it so highly.
I was therefore all the more surprised to learn, what has in the meantime become widely known, that, without consulting Fr Dupuis directly, the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith had sent him a number of questions via the Jesuit General, Fr Kolvenbach, asking him to clarify certain points in his book, concerning, it would seem, his doctrine of Christ. Although the congregation was quick to emphasise that this step did not in itself as yet mean the beginning of an official investigation, I can well imagine how heavily it must weigh even upon such a distinguished professor of Christology as Dupuis. Moreover, for the general public such a move on the part of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith sounds the alarm. It implies that something about Fr Dupuis's book is not in order, and that the congregation may well suspect him of directly or indirectly violating the Church's teaching.
Of course the congregation has every right to guard the faith - though they do better still, according to Paul VI's motu proprio of December 1965, when they promote it. The case in hand, however, is surely a sign, an indication, that mistrust, suspicion and disapproval are being prematurely spread about an author who has the highest intentions, and has earned himself great merits in the service of the Catholic Church. We are concerned here with the spreading of a general suspicion, in and outside the Church, that will be difficult to dispel. This is certainly not intentional on the congregation's part, but it is detrimental to its task, and impairs the dialogue on religious pluralism, which is so vital in today's multicultural, secularised society.
With its long-standing, extensive experience over centuries, one should surely be able to rely on the doctrinal congregation to find better ways of doing its job to serve the Church effectively, especially when it is a matter of breaking new theological ground, as is the case here.
The members of the congregation, most of whom are Westerners, are, of course, very much afraid that interreligious dialogue will reduce all religions to equal rank. But that is the wrong approach for dialogue with the Eastern religions. It is reminiscent of colonialism, and smacks of arrogance. The Indian way of thinking is very different, and we must learn to understand other sorts of spiritual life.
As an emeritus bishop of the Church it is not my function to give the doctrinal congregation advice. But I cannot keep silent, for my heart bleeds when I see such obvious harm being done to the common good of God's Church.
Over the past 20 years, a not inconsiderable number of religious historians have turned their attention to the study of the great faiths, and to the issue of religious pluralism, which is of such significance today as the world fast becomes one in so many ways through the process of globalisation. The pioneers have proceeded predominantly from a Western standpoint, with Western concepts of cultural and religious history, and from the viewpoint of the Western Enlightenment and Western secularisation. But this pristine theological ground is beginning to interest Christians in other parts of the world too, particularly in Asia.
Not only is the Pontifical Council for Interreligious Dialogue concerned with issues of such vital interest, but the Pope himself has blazed a trail here. John Paul II, who so courageously invited the representatives of the world's religions to Assisi in 1986, a move we must not forget, specifically tells us that there is room for "other mediatory roles of a different kind and order" in Christ's universal mediatory role.
The Pope makes this reference to non-Christian religions in his 1990 encyclical on the Church's missionary mandate, Redemptoris Missio. As the Second Vatican Council declared (Nostra Aetate, 2): "The Catholic Church rejects nothing which is true and holy in these religions. She has a sincere respect for those ways of acting and living, those moral and doctrinal teachings which may differ in many respects from what she holds and teaches, but which none the less often reflect the brightness of that Truth, which is the light of all men."
With these words the Church revised the apologetical and defensive attitude it had previously taken towards the non-Christian religions. The Fourth Lateran Council of 1217 had even declared that Òthere is indeed one universal Church of the faithful, outside which no one at all is saved". Now the Council focused on the dialogue with the followers of other, non-Christian, religions, and incorporated it in the Church's global sphere of interest.
As Fr Dupuis shows in his book, the Pope says that "we need to look further and go further afield, knowing that 'the wind blows where it will' (cf. Jn. 3:8)", and that "the Second Vatican Council, centred primarily on the theme of the Church, reminds us of the Holy Spirit's activity also 'outside the visible Body of the Church'" (Dupuis, p.176). And again (Dupuis, p. 176): "All Christians must, therefore, be committed to dialogue with the believers of all religions, so that the mutual understanding and collaboration may grow . . . Ways must be developed to make this dialogue become a reality everywhere, but especially in Asia, the continent that is the cradle of ancient cultures and religions."
The Pope is here telling us that we must consider the work of the Holy Spirit in the whole world, as recorded in Jn 1:1. The challenge is to find out what the non-Christian religions mean for us, and how the good in all religions can be combined to serve global justice and peace.
The biggest hurdles in interreligious dialogue for us Christians are the uniqueness of Christ and the path of salvation. How can non-Christian religions be brought into a positive relationship with the Christian event, with the unique person of Jesus Christ - the incarnate Word - and thereby with his death and resurrection? That is the big issue here, and it is the crucial issue for Dupuis, too. No other religion has a threefold God, and his only-begotten Son, Jesus, as the basis of its faith. It is a vast field needing wide discussion.
There are Christians who react by saying, "What concern is this of mine? I am a Christian, and that is enough for me". But then again there are those Christians who say, "I am interested for the very reason that I am a Christian". The Pope, clearly, identifies with the second view.
In tackling this exceedingly difficult terrain, Dupuis is trying to steer a course in close conjunction with the Church and with papal documents as his basic orientation. He is a theologian who always first asks, "What is the Church's teaching and intention?" Some theologians do not take their bearings from any church documentation, others are selective of the documentation they use, but not Dupuis.
The differences between East and West - scholastic terminology compared with the metaphorical language of the Orient, the human and religious approaches - are huge - Indians, for instance, have their own way of approaching a text. I am convinced that slow and very careful moves are called for. The Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith has moved too fast too soon.
I have been fascinated by what other religions mean to us for as long as I can remember. When I was still a boy I remember thinking, "I am a Catholic - but what must it be like to have a different faith?" We must now proceed to a new stage, transcending the limits of the Christian world. We have a privileged position as Christians, but we must be humble and understand that Christ's message goes beyond us. We must try to comprehend what God's plans are for the different religions.
I can fully appreciate that perturbed theologians, and perhaps even more so ordinary Catholics, should bombard the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith with anxious letters, expressing their concern for the purity of the faith, and their fears that it is in great danger today. But as a bishop of the Church who has studied the subject of interreligious dialogue for decades, I very much hope that the congregation will find better ways of tackling these all-important issues and will proceed with the greatest composure and not be over-anxious. For, on the threshold of the third millennium, these are the very issues that are decisive for the Church's destiny.
Cardinal Ratzinger replies
The Tablet 13 March, 1999
Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, has sent The Tablet an English translation of a letter he wrote to Cardinal König, with an invitation to publish it.
Your Eminence,
It was with astonishment and some sadness that I read your article on Fr Jacques Dupuis SJ in The Tablet of 16 January 1999, in which you raise serious accusations against the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, stating that "without consulting Fr Dupuis directly" the congregation had sent a number of questions to him. I must confess that I simply do not understand this sentence, since sending a person some questions is precisely the same as consulting him. In fact, before coming to any judgement on his book, the congregation wanted to consult him personally, to be assisted by his own interpretation of the book.
This was undertaken with the greatest discretion; only his superior, Fr Kolvenbach, was informed. It was clear to us that public questioning or accusations would harm the author's reputation, something which is completely unacceptable, and thus we attempted to initiate a strictly confidential written dialogue. With regard to who is to blame for making this action public, I do not wish to speculate here; in any case, it is absolutely certain that it was not the congregation. As could be foreseen, the fact that it has been made public has injured both parties: the congregation and also the author, whom perhaps someone had wished to help by mobilising public opinion against our dicastery.
Since our action consisted simply in sending some confidential questions to Fr Dupuis and nothing more than this, I fail to understand your statement that our attempt at dialogue implies that the congregation "may well suspect him of directly or indirectly violating the Church's teaching". Such a suspicion was only created by a certain kind of publicity, not by us.
Thus, I am also unable to accept another statement in your letter, in which you assert that the congregation "has moved too fast too soon". Is dialogue with authors to be forbidden to us? Is the attempt to reach confidential clarification on difficult questions something evil? Is it not rather a way of striving to serve in a positive way the further development of faith and theology? You will understand from these questions that I find it unjust and damaging when you state that you cannot keep silent when you see such obvious harm being done to the common good of God's Church, which is to say, by our attempt at dialogue.
I do not want to take a position here on the substantial issues in the discussion with Fr Dupuis, since, for my part, following the regulations of the congregation, I feel bound to the confidentiality which they prescribe. At the same time, however, I cannot conceal that some of your statements puzzle me. If I understand you correctly, you see it as a form of colonialism and arrogance that members of the congregation are afraid that inter-religious dialogue will place all religions on the same level. But can a Christian engaged in dialogue relinquish his conviction of faith that Christ is truly the Incarnation of the Eternal Word, the Incarnate Son of God, and that, therefore, there is something in Christianity that is unique and different from other religions? Is he being honest with himself and with others if he sets this conviction aside? Does he not then make a fiction out of the foundation of dialogue? Parenthetically, it is certainly not my understanding that Fr Dupuis wishes to make such a position the precondition for dialogue; for him, the uniqueness of Christ and thus the differences between religions are, if I understand correctly, essential elements of his thinking.
You cite Redemptoris Missio and Nostra Aetate against us. I cannot imagine that you seriously believe that the congregation's thinking is in contradiction with the Second Vatican Council and with the Pope's fundamental encyclical letter on missionary activity. For then, the Holy Father logically would not have approved the congregation's theologically grounded dialogue with Fr Dupuis, as in fact he did. May I ask you to read once again the encyclical letter Redemptoris Missio, which forms the foundation of our letter? Here I wish only to cite what it says on the above-mentioned question of dialogue: "Dialogue should be conducted and implemented with the conviction that the Church is the ordinary means of salvation and that she alone possesses the fullness of the means of salvation" (Redemptoris Missio, 55).
It is with these few considerations that I wish to conclude, although there is certainly more that could be said. I am sorry, given our long and close friendship, that I must send you such a critical letter, but I think that our friendship implies a mutual trust which permits critical dialogue in brotherly respect and friendly affection. Thus, you will not be offended if I conclude by saying that perhaps it was not the congregation, but Your Eminence, who, with your article, has written "too fast too soon".
Nevertheless, I am thankful for your article because it has given me this opportunity to present some clarifications. You will certainly agree if I offer this letter to The Tablet as a contribution to the whole debate. My hope is that in spite of these public controversies, the discussion with Fr Dupuis will come to a good conclusion, so that, in the end, it will serve the truth, the Church and all of us.
Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger
Cardinal König comments: After I had received Cardinal Ratzinger's letter, I telephoned him in Rome and we had an official but friendly conversation. We both agreed that the dialogue with Fr Dupuis, mentioned in the letter, must be a priority. Cardinal Ratzinger suggested that I might like to respond to his letter in The Tablet at a later date. I am as always convinced that a personal conversation is the best way of tackling differences.
