Letters from Andrew and my response: the hermeneutics of kenosis.
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Dear Larry,
When discussing your Hermeneutics of Kenosis, I see beneath an ignored truth often overlooked by us. We talk a lot about what is required for our journey to holiness, but often, in practice, we run from the trials and suffering that necessarily must be on the way in our journey closer to God.
Running from trials and suffering is not new to human nature; we all have, at minimum, entertained thoughts of running from suffering at some point in our lives. Yet, most of the time, we are content to sit by the fire and view the shadows projected onto the wall of our self-contained and self-created caves rather than taking the pain of removing the shackles, having total conversion, walking out of the cave of our pride and self-conceit, and painfully adjusting to the light of God who continually seeks us, despite our tendency to sit by the fire like St. Peter and warm ourselves in our Platonic caves watching shadows dance.
I do not think that we watch shadows dance rather than leave the cave and be present in the light of God simply because we need to remove obstacles to doing so. While part of our problem today is that we have many unique barriers, such as the flood of information, the primary problem today is that we do not know the way. If we think about this situation, we cannot remove obstacles if we do not see the direction, what we are going towards, the intensity required to reach the destination, and what discipline and practice we need to do so. The proliferation of information, the self-demolition of trust in persons and institutions, and the contradictory arguments presented leave everyone confused. To be blunt, you could sample any number of homilies over the United States on a given Sunday and probably hear contradictory statements about the Church, the world, and most importantly, Christ Himself. A great example of this confusion comes from Dignitatis Humanae, which you use in your Hermeneutics of Kenosis.
Your use of Dignitatis Humanae as a basis for this kenotic approach seems to point toward what I will call a tension between perfection and permutation in our understanding of Christ, His Church, and our universal call to holiness. Perfection means the fulfillment or completion of what something is, and in our case, the ultimate goal of holiness, the beatific vision, union with God, and the fullness of truth that is Christ. Permutation means arranging and implementing doctrines and principles in concrete situations in the light of Scripture and tradition, that is, Christ.
The tension of permutation and perfection and the virtuous achievement of both in Christ have an excess and a defect where the excess or defect of perfection clouds permutation, and the excess or defect of permutation robs perfection. In the case of permutation, the excess focuses on perfection as a necessary, particular arrangement of things to the point of disregarding the particularity of what that arrangement supposedly reveals about, through, and in Christ; the defect is something like promulgating, approving, and singing the supposedly valid liturgical hymn “Go make a difference” without making the distinction about whether the difference is good or bad. In the case of perfection, the excess focuses on permutation as amorphous and mutable except on the foundation of some arbitrarily determined origin point with an infinite number of possibilities; the defect here is a fraudulent pursuit of perfection under the auspices of a static ideal that is usually imagined and/or ahistorically constructed.
For example, the excess of permutation might be the overemphasis on static doctrinal formations that are contrary to the nature of Christ, both in being God and Man, as well as Christ’s unique personality in his life, death, and resurrection, thereby distorting who Christ and His Church is. The defect of perfection might be hyperfocus on individual experience as the measure of Christ without regard for any doctrine or objective truths of the faith.
Religious freedom, in particular, provides fertile ground for understanding the tension of permutation and perfection, particularly that love must necessarily be free to be love; no one, not even God, can force love. Kenotic love is self-emptying Christ love, and that is the key to resolving excess and defects related to this tension. In that case, the inherent dignity of the human person recognized through both divine providence and human reason, the personal responsibility associated with how we live our lives, the immunity from external coercion and psychological freedom to choose to love something or someone, and most importantly God, aligns with being Christ-like since Christ did not force Himself on anyone when He was on earth, see in particular Mt 16:23, especially when the rich young man freely left after Jesus told him what he needed to do. Mt 19:26 seems to provide the answer in that God empties Himself for us so we can do the impossible: love God with His love, which is not inherent to our nature but only given through baptism.
See here §2 of DH: “It is in accordance with their dignity as persons-that is, beings endowed with reason and free will and therefore privileged to bear personal responsibility-that all men should be at once impelled by nature and also bound by a moral obligation to seek the truth, especially religious truth. They are also bound to adhere to the truth, once it is known, and to order their whole lives in accord with the demands of truth. However, men cannot discharge these obligations in a manner in keeping with their own nature unless they enjoy immunity from external coercion as well as psychological freedom. Therefore the right to religious freedom has its foundation not in the subjective disposition of the person, but in his very nature. In consequence, the right to this immunity continues to exist even in those who do not live up to their obligation of seeking the truth and adhering to it and the exercise of this right is not to be impeded, provided that just public order be observed.”
If we look at the above paragraph, a virtuous approach to the tension of perfection and permutation can help resolve how we think about religious freedom. DH affirms that the nature of the human person has dignity due to reason and free will, which comes with personal responsibility, and any external coercion would be contrary to the nature of the human person as created by God with the dignity of our nature and would contradict love and pursuing what is true. Religious freedom does not mean relativism since the document clearly says that subjective dispositions do not cause religious freedom but human nature. Yet, the document also, in its permutation, ensures that religious freedom is not used to pursue apparent goods that would destroy the very social order in which religious freedom is given. In other words, it is not license, but instead, the liberality of oughtness, giving the reins of choice to the person by his or her dignity, without sacrificing the very social order itself in the note of “render unto Caesar what is Caesar, and render unto God what is God’s.” The permutation of DH, that is, religious freedom is necessary, enriches the perfection of the Church since no faith arises from coercion since faith trusts in a loving God and His Truth. People are given the conditions to truly follow the Gospel.
So, in the light of the tension of permutation and perfection, we could say religious freedom taught in DH as an exercise in the permutation of church teaching must not destroy the perfection of the Church by falling into excess, that is, a complete license that destroys social order, and defect, that is, overzealous restrictions that suffocate genuine faith. Furthermore, acknowledging errors in the past of Church teaching addresses perfection, the fullness of truth in Christ, while also, by way of permutation, ensuring that we state the Church has never claimed complete infallibility. The Church teaching something in error seems to make more sense if considered as an excess or defect of exercising its perfection or permutation.
So, correct me if I am wrong. Still, your kenotic approach focuses on perfection, that is, the quality of being Christ-like in the mode of self-emptying, and permutation of the faith as an arrangement of doctrine in a specific order according to the unifying principle of Christ Crucified rather than an excess or defect of either order of perfection or permutation. Your kenotic approach tries to resolve the excesses and defects of the tension of perfection and permutation on the grounds of what you call “the cruciform logic of the Gospel” founded on Christ’s paschal mystery, which allows for a person to know the way through seeing self-emptying love as the principle, the hermeneutic, to see not only what the Church is, but who Christ is, the very individuating principle of the Catholic Church as the Mystical Body of Christ.
In addressing this tension, your approach would also see the dichotomy of tradition and development in a new light. Tradition finds its origin point in Christ Crucified, pursuing his Life as he taught it with no additions or subtractions; development now avoids formlessness and arbitrary accouterments in following His way and looks at the arrangement of things, not as anything other than revealing Christ for those who wish to live His Life. If something falls into excess or defect, it is not the virtue of the Catholic religion that binds us to one another in Christ, and therefore, evaluated in this light, must be treated accordingly.
Regarding us running away from suffering, giving in to any of the excesses or defects mentioned above hinders our growth in Christ and seeing the light of God. We stick to what is comfortable yet loudly complain, from our caves, about what we think about the dancing shadows, which are both excesses and defects. At the same time, God’s Light reveals what is real and virtuous, beyond excess and defect, in what you call the “cruciform logic of the Gospel,” which sounds like a kind of metaphysics, not logic, in that you are in actual contact with God through the ascetic life, the Gospel, and courageously stepping into his Light and the pain that it will entail early on in renouncing ourselves. Hence, Christ fills us to empty ourselves in self-gift for God and others. This freedom points to the true goal of any free person as not simply choosing among lesser shadows but achieving the goal of loving the Good face to face in His Light, outside our caves, achieving freedom of autonomy free from falsity, sin, and corruption. This terminus is never reached if freedom of choice is considered an end instead of a means to that final end. God, through Christ, provides us with the truth of Himself so we can know the way to Him by simply following His Voice, leading us out of ourselves and into His Life. (cf. Jn 10:14-15; Jn 10:27-28)
Best,
Andrew
My response:
Dear Andrew
Thank you for these reflections. I am working on part four of my hermeneutics of kenosis series which will go a long ways toward taking up many of the themes you raise here. That should be ready soon. But until then, your post reminds me of the writings of St. Vincent of Lerin (died c. 445) who was one of the very first theologians to focus on the concept of the development of doctrine. He famously said that in developing doctrines the Church must pay very close attention and adhere to that which is of antiquity, had a universal acceptance, and could be found in almost every church. In his most famous work (the Commonitorium) he states: "In the catholic church, all care must be taken so that we hold that which has been believed everywhere, always and by everyone.”
However, Vincent was also aware that doctrines also develop over time and the church’s understanding of them deepens as she reflects upon them ever more deeply and in the light of new insights and historical circumstances. This led him to develop criteria for distinguishing between heresy and orthodoxy in these developments. In other words, and based on the controversies of his day, how do we judge between Arius and Athanasius or Nestorius and Cyril? Here I will quote from the excellent book by Msgr. Thomas Guarino (The Disputed Teachings of Vatican II):
“…[for Vincent] two kinds of change can occur in the church, profectus and permutatio. The former represents a legitimate advance, an organic extension, an architectonic development of prior teachings. The latter term, on the contrary, represents the reversal of some antecedent principle; as such it constitutes a corruption of the Christian faith. For Vincent, continuity in church teaching is essential but does not exclude authentic growth.” (P. 12)
Therefore, in any hermeneutical retrieval of the tradition we must always seek to see how any proposed change or development in church teaching is in continuity with past teaching. The roots of any proposed development must be found somewhere in the Tradition. Changes to doctrine therefore can never be the result of conceptual novelties that are drawn from the contemporary zeitgeist and which have no relatedness to any past teaching. Furthermore, no proposed development based on such novelties can be used to justify reversing past teachings. When that happens we are dealing with a “permutatio” and not a “profectus”.
I think you must have also had St. Vincent of Lerin in mind therefore when you employed the terms “perfection” and “permutation.” But you also develop these ideas further by noting, correctly in my view, that doctrines can be both true and yet oriented to a “defect” of some kind — a defect that requires later correction from the Church — and that these defects can take the form of an “excess” in one linear direction at the expense of others. At least that is what I take you to mean in this context.
You cite my use of Dignitatis Humanae in order to make this point. The Church, as Guarino notes, clearly modifies her teaching on religious freedom in this text. But what is the nature of the modification? Is it a profectus or a permutatio? Guarino views it as the former, as do I, but it does seem to go against previous church teachings. But this is a complicated question because in some ways it does go against previous teachings and in other ways it does not. It clearly goes against a superficial and decontextualized reading of past papal statements (especially from the 19th century) on religious freedom but also bases this stance on truths of Revelation that the church has always affirmed.
Looked at in historical context it is clear that the 19th century popes were speaking against the view of religious freedom espoused by the French Revolution and its various iterations in other nations. They were speaking out against a radical religious relativism and aggressive secularism that was explicitly anti-clerical and anti-Christian. And in light of this the 19th century popes condemned religious freedom as a sin against the truth of the Catholic faith and the truth of our moral obligation to seek the truth about God. But in so doing they so emphasized the need for truth in matters of religion that there developed an “excess” of church teaching in one direction only and at the expense of other truths of the faith such as the absolute necessity that the decision for faith be utterly free and uncoerced, and that in this regard, as Ratzinger noted, there is an intrinsic and constitutive orientation in the truth about God toward freedom and vice versa. Truth and freedom are indivisibly oriented toward one another.
Therefore, Dignitatis, while affirming that past church teaching on the necessity of seeking the truth about God, also “corrects” the “excess” to be found in earlier teachings, and does so precisely by linking up with other teachings in the Tradition. The Tradition, in other words, is used to redress imbalances in our interpretation of Tradition.
What transpires, therefore, is not so much a tout court rejection of past teachings as simply false, but rather as excessive in a certain one-sidedness in its approach and in need of a reordering in the hierarchy of truths so as to present a more balanced picture. But what then is to be the principle of this reordering? This is where your analysis is spot-on in my view when you focus on the fact that doctrines must be properly ordered in the hierarchy of truths by grounding them in the most central truths of Revelation. And certainly, as you note, one of the most central truths is our call to follow the cruciform pattern of God’s kenosis in Christ.
Along these lines, Pope Benedict affirmed both a hermeneutic of continuity, as is absolutely necessary for any properly Catholic approach to the development of doctrine, but also, and as a subcategory within that hermeneutic, a hermeneutic of reform. What he meant by this latter qualification is that sometimes there can arise the various kinds of “excess” in doctrinal formulations that you mention and that these require a reordering — a reordering that may require certain small “ruptures” with some aspects of previous teachings — but precisely in order to be in continuity with deeper and more elemental truths of the Tradition.
He therefore also sometimes referred to this as the hermeneutics of the cross since the reordering of truths in a proper hierarchy can only move forward when centered the central mystery of God’s kenosis.
Kenosis therefore, and in the full sense of a christocentric cruciformity, is the central hermeneutical principle and is the basis for my own development of a hermeneutic of kenosis. As I will hope to show in part 4 of that series, this deeper sense of how all doctrines are ultimately grounded and legitimated is the most fruitful outcome of the ressourcement theology of the past century, and the path that has the most promise for getting us beyond many of our current theological logjams.
Thanks for the reflection Andrew and there is more to come from me on this topic soon.
Cheers
Larry
Dorothy Day, pray for us.