Punishing dissent: coralling theologians, containing bishops.

In his widely heralded speech at the opening of Vatican II, John XXIII mentioned errors that threaten the truth of the Lord. "The church," he said, "has always opposed these errors. Frequently she has condemned them with the greatest severity. Nowadays, however, the Spouse of Christ prefers to make use of the medicine of mercy rather than that of severity. She considers that she meets the needs of the present day by demonstrating the validity of her teaching rather than by condemnations."

These words symbolized the collegial and mutually trusting attitudes of bishops and theologians that made Vatican II possible. That was then. Now is now. On May 18, John Paul II issued the apostolic letter Ad tuendam fidem ("To Defend the Faith"). In it he outlawed dissent from "definitive" even if not formally revealed truths. Indeed, Canon 1371 is now to state that dissenters "may be punished with a just penalty."

The pope does not state what these teachings are. Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger fills this lacuna with his commentary on the apostolic letter. He lists the following as "definitively" taught: rejection of prostitution, fornication, euthanasia; restriction of ordination to men; legitimacy of the election of the pope and convocation of an ecumenical council; the canonization of saints; and the declaration of Leo XIII in 1896 that Anglican orders are invalid. Ratzinger declares that we must give "firm and definitive assent" to these teachings. Failure to do so means that individuals would "no longer be in full communion with the Catholic church."

There are several things worthy of note in this papal initiative. First, it represents no surprise. The coercive trajectory has been clear for many years. In Veritatis splendor (1993), John Paul II reminded bishops that they are "to have recourse to appropriate measures to ensure that the faithful are guarded from every doctrine and theory contrary to" the church's moral teaching. Cardinal Ratzinger, in his "Instruction on the Ecclesial Vocation of the Theologian" (1990), remarks on the situation of a theologian who cannot give his intellectual assent to a proposition. He says: "It can be a call to suffer for the truth, in silence and prayer...." Briefly, any public dissent is anathema.

Second, the mention of the invalidity of Anglican orders represents a remarkable insensitivity, coming as it did just weeks before the Lambeth Conference. Furthermore, if it is "definitive" teaching that Anglican orders are invalid, how is it that the pope could present George Carey, the archbishop of Canterbury, a gold pectoral cross on the occasion of Carey's visit to Rome and allow him to march fully vested and mitred at the Church of Saint Gregory the Great? The pope is not accustomed to doing this for laity.

Third, the category of "definitive" teaching, demanding irrevocable consent is troubling at the practical level. On questions of moral theology, Karl Rahner noted of authentic church teaching: "These statements of the magisterium, although they can make no claim to be definitive, are nonetheless presented in such a way as though in fact they are definitive" ("Open Questions in Dogma Considered by the Institutional Church as Definitively Answered," Journal of Ecumenical Studies, Spring, 1978).

Theologians will have little problem with the "firm and definitive" assent to be given to teachings proposed definitively. What they will want to know is: When is the teaching "definitive" and who determines this? Do historians and theologians have no say here? Do officials simply decree it to be so? In this perspective, Ratzinger's list represents a fallible judgment on what is infallibly taught.

In the long haul, the significance of the pope's initiative and Ratzinger's accompanying commentary may be the symbolization of a shift in ecclesial climate - from persuasion to coercion. Paul VI wanted people to be convaincus, pas vaincus (convinced, not conquered). This is no longer our climate. It is one of "frosty" coercion, an adjective used by the late Bernard Haring in his last letter to me.

A coercive atmosphere in the church is counterproductive. It threatens ministry, sours the laity and divides the church - the very opposite of what the pope intended.

In particular, I see three impacts of a coercive atmosphere on the teaching office of the church.

* The Weakening of the Episcopal Magisterium. Here we should recall the theological force of episcopal agreement described in Lumen gentium, no. 25. If the bishops around the world are united with the pope in their teaching, then that teaching can achieve a greater level of stability and certainty, and indeed achieve infallible status if the teaching is a proper object of infallibility and is presented as something to be held definitively. But the unity must be genuine and clear.

In a coercive atmosphere both the genuiness and clarity are put in serious doubt. First, the genuiness. Here we would recall one of the arguments made during the deliberations of the so-called Birth Control Commission in the 1960s. It was contended that the church could not modify its teaching on birth regulation because that teaching had been proposed unanimously as certain by the bishops around the world with the pope over a long period of time. To this point Cardinal Leo-Joseph Suenens of Belgium replied: "We have heard arguments based on 'what the bishops all taught for decades.' Well, the bishops did defend the classical position. But is was imposed on them by authority. The bishops didn't study the pros and cons. They received directives, they bowed to them, and they tried to explain them to their congregations." In a coercive atmosphere people will repeat things because they are told to and threatened with punishment if they say anything else. Episcopal unity is revealed as enforced, not genuine.

As for clarity, the more likely scenario in a coercive atmosphere is that the bishops (some at least) will say nothing if they disagree. In such circumstances, to read episcopal silence as unanimity is self-deceptive.

When the genuiness and clarity of episcopal agreement have been cast into grave doubt by a coercive atmosphere, the episcopal magisterium itself has been undermined. The meaning of consensus has been eviscerated. The bishops should be the first ones to protest this diminishment of their magisterium, and the atmosphere that grounds it.

* The Weakening of the Papal Magisterium. This follows from the first point. If bishops are not speaking their true sentiments, then clearly the pope is not able to draw on the wisdom and reflection of the bishops in the exercise of his ordinary magisterium. When this happens, the presumption of truth in papal teaching is weakened, because such a presumption assumes that the ordinary sources of human understanding have been consulted. That is why what is called the "enforcement of doctrine" is literally counterproductive. It weakens the very vehicle (papal magisterium) that proposes to be the agent of strength and certainty.

* The Marginalization of Theologians. Coercive measures will almost certainly have the effect of quieting theologians, at least on certain issues. This further erodes both the episcopal and papal magisterium by silencing yet another source of understanding and growth. If reputable theologians are marginalized, the magisterium is proportionately weakened.

As noted, that was then. Now is now.

RICHARD A. McCORMICK is a Jesuit priest and the John A. O'Brien Professor Emeritus of Christian Ethics at the University of Notre Dame.