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The members of the Church can and must Papal Authority in By Raymond Cleaveland It can neither be said that love disappears in office (or that office co-opts love for itself), nor that office and love stand in opposition like two adequately separable structural elements. – Hans Urs von Balthasar. Hans Urs von Balthasar’s 1974 study in Petrine authority, The Office of Peter and the Structure of the Church, masterfully lays out a novel ecclesial vision of authority. Yet the English translation of the title seems to miss the point. The original German title captures Balthasar’s reasons for writing much more poignantly: Der Antirőmische Affekt—“The Anti-Roman Attitude.” Though Balthasar was a rising star when it was published, he looked like David casting pebbles at the post-conciliar Goliaths the likes of Küng, Rahner and Schillebeeckx. The ex-periti had reason to gloat, for they had emerged from the Council vindicated in their ideas, successful in their theological publications, and spurred-on by the epoch of confusion, which immediately followed. And while guarding his personal friendships, Balthasar challenged the theologians of his day with his own voluminous publications, confronting their “anti-Roman feeling” and ressentiment, which, in his own words, “blinded them to the objective” of theological reflection. 1 He did so by reexamining the points of departure for ecclesiological reflection, and from his brow came a new genre of ecclesiology—one based on the concept of discipleship—which became the platform for his reflections on authority in general, and Petrine authority in particular. Let me say at the outset that this is not an attempt to “pigeon-hole” one man as “conservative” and others as “liberals,” nor to portray Balthasar as some kind of “Defensor Fidei” during tumultuous times, for any sort of label applied to a man of his theological breadth and profundity would be necessarily reductive. Rather, this essay will treat Balthasar’s unique ecclesial vision (which has always been characterized by a strong Sensus Ecclesiae) of the intimate connection between discipleship and authority. It will be done in four parts, following the natural sequence of Balthasar’s own profound reflection on Peter and his role in the Church: 1) the essence of discipleship and the “paradox of the following”; 2) the “Form of Christ” in the disciple and in Peter in particular; 3) authority in the communio of the Church; and 4) the specific role of the Petrine Office in Balthasar’s mind—that of guarding unity. Some background What is the origin of authority in the Church? Is there not a variety of charisms, of which authority is but one? And what role, if any, should the Sovereign Pontiff have in the post-conciliar Church? These and other questions resonated in seminary halls and universities during the late 60s and most of the 70s. Yet Balthasar had resolved most of them in his own heart as early as 1961, a year before the Council was even convened, when he wrote that authority in the Church came about precisely because the Church’s institutional factor is, by its own nature, inseparable from the New Testament idea of discipleship. 2 Yet the continual and seemingly insurmountable debate of the day pitted the theologians’ call for freedom of reflection 3 against Paul VI’s repeated pleas for obedience (who, by the way, was a very non-authoritarian pope, compared to some of his predecessors). This disdain for Paul VI became particularly acute in the wake of Humanae Vitae, and this perhaps was Balthasar’s ultimate reason for publishing Der Antirőmische Affekt in the face of so many contrary voices. In his 1971 article, “The Pope Today,” his indictment is forceful and poignant.
Whether or not Balthasar’s face had been figuratively “slapped” was beside the point. He saw it happening to Paul VI and others and used his preferred weapon, the pen, to reaffirm that Peter and his office of unity must not merely be tolerated, but valued, recognized and loved. Among the vast ecclesiological contribution of Balthasar, this last aspect is truly a gem, and it is ultimately the vindication of his own thought over those of his academic contemporaries. In the words of Cardinal Ratzinger, pronounced at Balthasar’s funeral Mass in 1988, just two days after the Consistory in which he was to receive the Red Hat, “what the Pope intended to express by this mark of distinction, and of honor [i.e., the cardinalate], remains valid: no longer only private individuals but the Church itself, in its official responsibility, tells us that he is right in what he teaches of the Faith…” 5 Discipleship Balthasar begins his reflections by contrasting authority in the Old and New Testaments. In the Old Covenant mindset, authority was quite reduced. There is some notion, for example, of Mosaic or Davidic leadership, but it was largely overshadowed by the Jews’ concept of the people’s fidelity to Yahweh. Although the Prophets, for example, were “lone rangers” in their quest for repentance, every Jew knew that his sort in life and that of the people depended on his own fidelity to the Deuteronomic Law. When Yahweh punished his People, or chastised to the umpteenth generation, it was usually because of their infidelity (murmuring in the desert, consorting with the daughters of Moab, marrying Midianite women, etc). Yet for Balthasar, the Incarnation of the Son of God radically changed the equation. No longer was it the Transcendental Yahweh appearing to Moses in a burning bush or on a mountaintop; the Incarnation was God himself who became Immanuel, handing his New Law over to us as one man gives a gift to another. This radical change from the Old Covenant requires, for Balthasar, a different model of government for the New People of God. Note that the personal nature of the divine-human relationship does not change. “It is true that the Twelve chosen by the Lord form the new, spiritual Israel. But the significant factor is that they are not themselves tribes but individuals and that the new people of God is built on the foundation of individuals who follow the unique individual Christ.” 6 Thus, it is the individual who is called to follow Christ, and the establishment of institutional organs and authoritative structures in the Church as a necessary part of this new form of personal fidelity to Yahweh called “discipleship.” This results in what Balthasar calls the Paradox of the Following, noting that Christ’s relationship with his disciples was atypical of his contemporaries. The Rabbis of the day imparted knowledge and truth; Christ himself was knowledge and truth, calling his disciples not just to “learn from him” in the externals, but to unite themselves to him in all that is internal—”apart from me you can do nothing” (Matt. 11:29; John 15:5). Hence the paradox, for the disciple is not a mere pupil in the academic sense; he must, as St. Paul says, “induire Christum”—”put on Christ” (Gal. 3:27). Here Balthasar introduces the concept of the Form of Christ, which he sees as the disciple’s transformation into Christ (Gal. 4:9) via this internal discipleship. As he notes in Office of the Church,
It is clear that this concept of “transformation in Christ” represents a stumbling block for Protestants, who, invoking Luther’s notion of total depravity, would insist on its impossibility. Yet in Balthasar’s mind, the Catholic finds precisely in this internal regeneration of the disciple’s soul not only the essence of one’s personal Christian life, but also the source for our Church’s authority and office. “The Christian, the apostle, is steeped in this form of Christ and made a new creature; and in him, therefore, only one form can come into being, one that is the product of love and the ministerial office indissolubly conjoined.” 8 Let us continue to explore and understand this notion in the person of Peter. The Forma Christi in Peter The apostles, like all Christians, were not exempt from this “Paradox of the Following.” Like no others ever have, they truly followed him, across the plains of Galilee, through the foothills of Judea, and even up to Jerusalem, where he was crucified and died. Although the Eleven ran from the cross, all of the apostles eventually did follow the Master “usque ad mortem,” and in Peter’s particular case, “mortem autem crucis.” Even before their own passions and martyrdoms, they participated in the Passion and martyrdom of the Lord. Peter’s case was particularly bitter, for his three-fold denial of the Master brought him face-to-face with his own sinfulness. Yet, for Balthasar, this is not a merely accidental occurrence; it was a deliberate part of God’s plan that the future leaders of the Church should taste failure and humiliation as Jesus did. Peter’s denial of the Lord was essential to forming Christ in him.
This was a crucial element in Peter’s preparation for the Power of the Keys. Humiliation and the cross are essential to the acquisition, or better said, reception, of that particular forma Christi which carries with it the charism of governing the flock. As Balthasar continues, “it is necessary as an essential element in the instilling of the form as foreordained for the way of life of those in the ministry. Once again: the form is not the ministry itself. It is the unity made up of the man as he is (a failure) and the commission given by divine grace from above.” 10 Lest we think all this untimely, let us recall that Balthasar witnessed in his own day a somewhat cruel repetition of this, as he noted in a 1971 newspaper article:
Peter was not the only one who experienced this humiliation. Indeed, the other apostles felt it too. Perhaps the most outstanding New Testament example is that of St. Paul, humiliated in Athens, attacked by brigands, imprisoned and finally, put to death on the Via Ostia. But these splinters of the Cross that the Apostle was made to feel formed his own style of leadership. His experience of failure, like Peter’s, made him particularly apt to govern in charity and humility the communities he had founded. While his letters don’t have many traces of Paul’s meekness, it is clear that he usually did not throw his weight around, making “demands as an apostle of Christ” (1 Thess. 2:6). While Paul reproved and rebuked when necessary, he preferred to teach from his own experience, knowing that verba docent, sed exemplum trahet. “Once again we see how Paul, so far from presuming on his official position to admonish the community for its manner of life, does just the opposite. He refers to his manner of life in order to shake them out of the certainties, of being “already filled, already become rich,” already reigning (1 Cor 4:8).” 12 Again, Balthasar hammers his point home, referring to Paul’s use of his own apostolic authority:
Yet humility did not come easily to these men. Paul, in his characteristically brash tone, refers to himself as a “better apostle” than the others (see 2 Cor 11:23). Peter promised that he would never abandon the Lord, and promptly did so at the first sign of the cross (Lk 22:33). Unbeknownst to him, it was precisely in learning humility in the school of failure that he rendered himself fit to “confirm his brethren” in the faith (Lk 22: 32). Balthasar sees three significant moments in Peter’s life which helped him to understand and accept his role of primacy. First, Peter lives in openness to the wisdom of the Father. It was he, at Caesarea Philippi who responded, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God!” (Mt 16:18). And it was he again who refused to leave at the scandal of the Eucharist: “Lord, to whom shall we go?” In doing so, he seems to answer for the entire college of the Twelve. 14 Peter, though proud, was not the one vying for positions in heaven, as were the Sons of Thunder.
Second, Peter’s crucifixion, his being “taken where he did not want to go,” conformed him in a real way to his crucified Savior. Yet Peter, and so many of his successors (though not all, unfortunately), did not desire such an exalted office. Many, like Angelo Roncalli, dreaded and shunned it, only uttering their “accipiam” reluctantly. Balthasar calls it a “chasm,” across which only God’s grace can carry us, perhaps recalling those words spoken to St. Paul: sufficit tibi gratia mea (2 Cor. 12:9). “The chasm of demanding too much which yawns between the man and his mandate, between the sinner and denier and his mission to feed the flock properly in the manner of the Good Shepherd, is bridged by the grace of the Lord.” 16 Finally, we see Peter embrace his office. The Acts of the Apostles are riddled with examples of Peter’s primacy in the Apostolic College. He exercises his authority first in Jerusalem, in urbe, and then, taken where he did not want to go, in the capital of the Empire, where he leads the Church in orbe. The Church as Communio Yet the early Church was more than just Peter and Paul. It was a complex fabric, a weaving-together of the lives of many. According to Jesuit theologian John McDade, Balthasar identifies a series of key players who each offered their own charisms to the fledgling Church. These charisms go beyond the usual three or four mentioned by St. Paul—apostles, prophets, teachers, etc. They include, but are not limited to: Our Lady, model par excellence of the disciple of the Lord; Peter, who holds the office of pastor; Paul, the missionary; the Twelve, forming the Apostolic College; John the Baptist, last prophet of the Old Testament and first martyr of the New; John, the disciple of love; and James, keeper of tradition and the law. 17 From this wider group of players, Balthasar picks out those whom he calls the “Apostolic Foursome”: Peter, Paul, John and James. According to McDade, “each principle in the Foursome represents a clearly defined mission within the Church, necessarily involved with each other.” 18 Though very diverse in their personalities, and often engaging in debate (Peter and Paul, for instance), Balthasar’s ecclesiological view considers that they were essentially ‘in communion’ with one another; hence the vision of the Church as a communio, where collegiality and primacy are not in conflict with one another. In fact, Balthasar notes that John reinforces Peter’s authority as much as Matthew, highlighting his primacy at the beginning of his Gospel (John 1:42) and concluding it with the most eloquent example of Christ confirming Peter’s authority in love. Chapters 20 and 21 of John are, he says,
In the ecclesiology of communio, authority is shared by all of the Twelve. All were, using a later term, episkopoi—all had been given the power to “bind and loose” (Matt. 18:18; John 20:23), and all had to use that power in humility and love. The Office of Unity If the above is true, namely that apostolic authority was shared, and that each apostle or disciple brought his own specific gifts of the Spirit to the communio, what then is the specificity of the Petrine ministry? What was the primary function of Peter and his successors? In order to better understand Balthasar’s answer, let us recall that the Church is and always has been known as casta meretrix—the chaste whore. While avoiding knee-jerk conclusions such as Martin Luther’s repeated references to her as the “Whore of Babylon,” let us recall that casta meretrix was actually a fond title accorded to her by the Fathers of the Church. Picking up on the biblical theme of adultery as symbolic of the infidelity of the Chosen People to God’s Covenant (see David and Bathsheba, the Song of Solomon, Hosea, Rahab), the notion of the casta meretrix recognizes the inherent sinfulness of the people, while equally acknowledging the sanctity of the Church, immaculate Bride of Christ, and one ark of Salvation. The Council Fathers echoed this dichotomy of sin and sanctity in Lumen Gentium: “the Church, embracing in its bosom sinners, at the same time holy and always in need of being purified, always follows the way of penance and renewal.” 20 Perhaps Origen, though, best captured the idea of casta meretrix when he said, referring to the celebrated prostitute whom the Fathers saw as a typus Ecclesiae, “outside Rahab’s house, the Church, there is no salvation.” Within Rahab’s house, there is but one who is the Immaculate Conception. The rest of us are capable of denying the Lord like Peter, seeking positions, like James and John, or even doubting, like Thomas. These and other sins tear at the fabric of the communio. Thus, the role of Petrine ministry in Balthasar’s mind becomes clearer. He sees it as the safeguard of unity within the Body of Christ. “The papacy has always—from the Petrine texts of the New Testament on—had to exercise the function of unity in the church and, indeed, of visible unity in the visible church which, considered realistically, is made up of sinners—egoists and separatists.” 21 Since the function of preserving unity is real and necessary, Balthasar draws three specific conclusions about it in his article, The Petrine Office in the Church. First, it is not merely an honorary office, where Peter is primus inter pares. In order to carry out his mission, Peter and his successors must have real governing power. Two, the Petrine ministry is a particular charism given to the popes. It is part of the communio, but not merely an extension of the fraternal charity already existing in it. When the chips are down, dogma, doctrine, and beliefs count. That is the stuff of which heresy and schism are made. St. Augustine’s famous “ama, et fac quod vis” doesn’t apply to the obstinate preaching of heretical or schismatic doctrines because that, in Balthasar’s mind, would be a contradiction of love. No one doubts that the exercise of this aspect of Petrine ministry can be painful, perhaps more so for the one who exercises it than for the one who receives it. In supporting the John Paul II’s 1979 removal of Hans Küng’s license to teach Catholic Theology, Balthasar wrote:
Third, the Petrine ministry is not merely a “transitory function” which might be abolished one day or used only on a case-to-case basis. Instead, says Balthasar, “this function of the preservation of unity is a constitutive function of the Church and is exercisable only under the condition that its bearer is given the powers that belong to him in the limits of his office.” 23 Then comes a Balthasarian phrase that many a contemporary theologian would do well to meditate upon: “This presupposes from the other members of the church (bishops, priests, laity) a docility and reverence toward this pneumatic office.” 24 Thus we encounter a truly genial aspect of Balthasar’s ecclesiology of communio. He rejects the imperial or medieval vision of the Church as a “pyramid,” with the Papacy at its peak. In the words of McDade, quoting The Office of Peter, “such an image distorts the relation of the Papacy to the rest of the Church because the Pope is not ‘above’ the Church in any serious sense, nor is the Church ‘under’ him (‘…but it shall not be so with you.’ Luke 22:26). Only Jesus stands above the Church as its Lord.” 25 Thus, in a somewhat radical upheaval of classic ecclesiology, Balthasar tears down the pyramid, places the Papacy within the larger unity of the Church. Primacy is given to holiness in the disciple’s life, more than the office that he or she holds. The Blessed Virgin becomes the model of the disciple, an idea that the Council Fathers picked-up on in calling her the true Typus Ecclesiae, Model of the Church. 26 McDade notes that, “for Von Balthasar, the radiant heart of the Church is lay, faithful and holy, characterized by contemplative receptivity in relation to God, and symbolized by the femininity and virginal maternity of Mary: as she is, so is the church.” 27 John Paul II, who reportedly said that Von Balthasar was his favorite theologian, referenced this notion of the ‘primacy of sanctity’ when he wrote the May 22, 1994 Apostolic Letter, Ordinatio Sacerdotalis, on the subject of the ordination of women.
Perhaps John Paul II’s numerous beatifications and canonizations (more than any Pope in history) are a part of a larger message for the faithful which harks back to Chapter 5 of Lumen Gentium: it is sanctity of life that counts in God’s eyes, not whether one is called to be apostle or prophet or teacher—or lay person for that matter. Strains of this also echo in Balthasar’s writings. Yet the Pope notes that the question of the ordination of women was, in some places, still considered “open to debate.”
Needless to say, Ordinatio Sacerdotalis was not received well in all circles. Some rejected it outright. Others quickly retorted that the ordination of deacons wasn’t explicitly mentioned therein. Here, too, we disciples of the 21 st Century can learn a lesson in humility from Von Balthasar. During the years of his canonical exile, when he could not receive incardination, Father Balthasar undoubtedly suffered. He could direct Adrienne von Speyer spiritually, but he could not hear her confession. In many ways and forms, members of the communio are hurt by other members. Sometimes, the exercise of the Petrine office, always in view of the good of the body as a whole, can bring suffering to some. At one point, the writings of Henri de Lubac were censured by the Holy Office, and during that period, wrote his beautiful Meditation sur l’Eglise. In all these sufferings, Balthasar notes that it is important to recognize the hand of God working through the imperfect instruments.
This echoes Von Balthasar’s above-mentioned thought that the members of the Church can and must create an environment in which the Pope can exercise his authority and be loved for it. This undoubtedly requires certain humility, but then again, humility is the stuff that saints are made of. In his classic lecture, “Why I am a Catholic,” Balthasar points to the lives of the saints as ideal disciples of the Lord, disciples who lived within the communio, exercising their own charisms with a magnanimous Sensus Ecclesiae.
Balthasar once wrote that if the Church as a whole had been only a holy, loving church, there would never have been need for the Petrine office of unity. Yet in the next sentence, almost as if he remembered that the Church is casta meretrix, Balthasar notes that the object of Peter’s authority is to “hold fast the congruence between this one faith and the unity of love.” 32 NOTES 1 Hans Urs Von Balthasar, “The Petrine Office in the Church”, in The Von Balthasar Reader, ed. Kehl and Löser, trans. Robert Daly (New York: Crossroad, 1982), 274. 2 Hans Urs Von Balthasar, “Office in the Church”,Spouse of the Word, vol. 2, trans. Littledale (San Francisco: Ignatius, 1991), 82. 3 As one example of this, see Karl Rahner, Theological Investigations, vol. 2. (Darton, Longman & Todd, 1963) in in A Rahner Reader, ed. Gerald A. McCool, (New York: Crossroad, 1975) 300. “There must be room in theology for research, for different schools and directions of thought, for experiments and progress…Side by side with the official function which is transmitted in a judicial manner, there is and must be the charismatic and the prophetic in the Church which must…in all patience and humility, be given sufficient room for growth, even though its bearers are sometimes rather ‘inconvenient.’” 4 Hans Urs Von Balthasar, “The Pope Today”, Elucidations, trans. John Riches, (London: SPCK, 1975), 103-04. 5 Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, “Homily at the funeral liturgy of Hans Urs von Balthasar,” cited in Hans Urs von Balthasar: His Life and Work, ed. David L. Schindler, (Ignatius, San Francisco, 1991), 295. 6 Hans Urs Von Balthasar, “Office in the Church”, 86. 7 Hans Urs Von Balthasar, “Office in the Church”, 81. 8 Ibid, 118-9. 9 Hans Urs Von Balthasar, “Office in the Church”, 114. 10 Hans Urs Von Balthasar, “Office in the Church”,114-5. 11 Hans Urs Von Balthasar, “Why do I still remain in the Church?”, Elucidations, trans. John Riches, (London: SPCK, 1975), 210. 12 Hans Urs Von Balthasar, “Office in the Church”, 117. 13 Hans Urs Von Balthasar, “Office in the Church”,117. 14 Hans Urs Von Balthasar, “Peter-First Bearer of the Office of Unity”, in The Von Balthasar Reader, ed. Kehl and Löser, trans. Robert Daly (New York: Crossroad, 1982), 221. 15 Hans Urs Von Balthasar, “Peter-First Bearer of the Office of Unity”, 221. 16 Hans Urs Von Balthasar, “Peter-First Bearer of the Office of Unity”, 222-3. 17 John McDade, SJ, Von Balthasar and the Office of Peter in the Church, unpublished paper available from: http://www.heythrop.ac.uk/faculty/acad/mcdadej/ 18 McDade, 3. 19 Hans Urs Von Balthasar, “Peter-First Bearer of the Office of Unity”, 211. 20Lumen Gentium, 8 21 Hans Urs Von Balthasar, “The Petrine Office in the Church”, in The Von Balthasar Reader, ed. Kehl and Löser, trans. Robert Daly (New York: Crossroad, 1982), 274. 22 Hans Urs von Balthasar, cited in John Allen, “Debating Karl Rahner and Hans Urs Von Balthasar,” National Catholic Reporter, Nov 28, 2003. 23 Hans Urs Von Balthasar, “The Petrine Office in the Church”, 274. 24 Hans Urs Von Balthasar, “The Petrine Office in the Church”, 274. 25 John McDade, SJ, 3. 26Lumen Gentium, 63, 68. 27 John McDade, SJ, 3. 28Ordinatio Sacerdotalis, 3. 29Ordinatio Sacerdotalis, 4. 30 Hans Urs Von Balthasar, The Office of Peter and the Structure of the Church, trans. Andree Emery, (San Francisco: Ignatius, 1986), 315. 31 Hans Urs Von Balthasar, “Why do I still remain in the Church?”, Elucidations, trans. John Riches, (London: SPCK, 1975), 214. 32 Hans Urs Von Balthasar, “The Petrine Office in the Church”, 275.
Raymond Cleaveland is a seminarian for the Archdiocese of Seattle. He is currently working on an S.T.L. at Mundelein Seminary near Chicago. He previously appeared in the July 2004 issue of HPR and he can be reached at rcleaveland@usml.edu |
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