You are here: home >> archbishops >> archbishop paul j. hallinan

From Archbishop Hallinan

The Church and Change... In the Age of Renewal
A Pastoral Letter
Lent 1965
+

INTRODUCTION: MEMORIES AND DREAMS

Is the Catholic Church changing? Grave debates of the Vatican Council Fathers and deliberate judgments of Pope Paul VI and his brother-bishops throughout the world are prompting this honest question by good Catholics and others everywhere. We find the Church of 1965 speaking in the vernacular after centuries of Latin, restudying moral issues that seemed forever settled, and approaching those of other faiths in a new spirit of unity after a long aloofness. What is changing? How far will it go? Is not unchangeability a treasured mark of Catholicism?

A good-natured bit of verse, widely circulated, protests the new liturgy:

Latin's gone, peace is too;
Singin' and shoutin' from every pew.
Listen to the lector, hear how he reads;
Please stop rattlin' them rosary beads!

But there is less than good nature in the manifesto recently sent by an American to our bishops, signed a "Catholic Traditionalist." It claims that we have received erroneous advice from so-called "experts," and asks whether the "so-called liturgical progressivism" is the first phase of a scheme to "protestantize" the Catholic Church. There seems to be a grave lack of charity in this toward Protestants, as well as Catholic scholars and churchmen. In France, a group called La Cite Catholique has heckled a panel of Catholic scholars and a lecture by Father Yves Congar into debacles. Apparently the hecklers reject most of the Council's work to date. Both the American and French resistance speaks sternly of church authority, but forget that pope and bishops decreed the changes, and that in the Congar lectures, Bishop Brien was present as a representative of Cardinal Feltin, archbishop of Paris!

Responsible Catholics, firm in their faith, are not disturbed by the new developments in the Church because Christ promised: "I will be with you all days!" (Matt. 28, 20). But Bishop John Wright of Pittsburgh spoke truly when he said: "We are a people whom memories haunt, holy memories, happy memories perhaps, but memories of the past, not dreams of the future. We are a nostalgic people." It is hard for such people to change, hard for them to ask their Church to "deepen the awareness that she must have of herself . . . to reflect upon herself . . . to feel the throb of her own life . . . to know herself better." Yet this was the theme of Pope Paul's first encyclical, The Paths of the Church: self-awareness, renewal and dialogue with the world.

It is the purpose of this Pastoral Letter of Lent 1965, to examine not only particular changes in the Church and the world, but the present change in the Church's approach to this world. St. John made the distinction long ago: "When God sent his Son into the world, it was not to reject the world, but so that the world might find salvation through him." (John 3, 17). We intend to ask (I) Is the Church God's Plan for Men?, then (II) to examine The Changing World of 1965; finally (III) to urge each to his place as The Church Moves to Her Present Task.

All of us are called to holiness, to follow the poor Christ, the humble and cross-bearing Christ. The new Constitution on the Church (Nov. 21, 1964) asks Christians to "use their strength as they have received it, as a gift from Christ." In our earthly pilgrimage, we are blessed with only one member who is an example of all that is holy. Mary, the Mother of God, is a type of the Church in the order of faith, charity and perfect union with Christ, as St. Ambrose taught in the 5th century, and the Second Vatican Council teaches today. In Mary, who is the patron of our Archdiocese, the Church reached that perfection "whereby she is without spot or wrinkle." (Eph. 5, 27). But for us, the rest of Christ's followers, our growth in holiness is measured by the daily conquest of sin, and slow, steady increase in grace.

In one Mediator, Jesus Christ,-with the example and intercession of Mary and all the saints,-may our priests, religious and laity enrich our lives as God's Holy People and grow in the Mystical Body of his Son, Jesus.

I -- IS THE CHURCH GOD'S PLAN FOR MEN?

History has defined the Catholic Church is many ways. There have been "moments" (as Cardinal Suhard of post-war Paris called them) when the Church appeared in society in garb distinctive of the times. We easily recall the Moment of Martyrdom-Christians despised and persecuted; the Moment of Sovereignty when church authority filled the vacuum left by the barbarians; and the Moment of Royal Patronage-a Church tolerated and used by secular powers. In the United States, Catholicism has passed from the period of the immigrant to that of the "arrived." In mission lands, the Church has frequently (and often unfairly) been identified with raw colonial power. In our times, she has been praised as a bulwark against communism, a policeman for law and order.

Rarely are these "moments" of her essence; often they have obscured her real nature. Compare the 19th and mid 20th century views of Catholicism. Pius IX found the Church undermined at the very levels of her foundation,-by the attacks on human reason and divine authority. He and the First Vatican Council repaired the damage within, but left the Church too irrelevant to the pulsing new society without. Archbishop Karl Alter of Cincinnati recently pictured the mood after 1870 as a "siege mentality." Dr. Hans Kung of the University of Tubingen, in Germany, finds that same mental set in those who oppose change today: "although certainly in good faith, they are unfortunately backward-looking, ghetto-bound and unecumenical."

The marvels as well as the brutality of our century have challenged this siege mentality, which may well have been a practical necessity in the 19th century. To uncover the real meaning of the Church, Leo XIII in 1896 wrote the encyclical, Sufficiently Known to You, and Pius XII in 1943 wrote The Mystical Body of Christ. Pastors and missionaries revealed their experience in the field; the work of scholars in scriptures, theology and liturgy buttressed this experience. But who could have anticipated the years of Popes John XXIII and Paul VI, or the shattering impact of the Council now in progress? The Constitution on the Church, accompanied by that on the liturgy and the decree on ecumenism, have already induced a new awareness of what the Church is and of what we are.

Catholics do not belong to the Church. In the striking phrase of Pius XII, "they are the Church." The image of the Church as an organization known only in its outward form of hierarchy, sacraments and law should be as alien to a Catholic as her identification as a policeman for the state, or worse, a private club for the edification of her members. The Church is an organism, not an ordinary organization. It is properly the Mystery of God, "a people made one with the unity of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit" (St. Cyprian). Let us examine this divine mystery in various phases of its definition.

1. In History

If we begin the narrative of Christianity at Pentecost and end with the Last Judgment, we cut short God's plan for his people. For it had a prelude in the covenant of the Old Testament, the promises made to Israel, a people called by God and responding to him. And it is to have a lasting sequel of glory with God in heaven when all things will be restored.

The Church we know must continue in its necessary juridical format, a visible society of authority, laws and worship. But how much more complete and vital are the new terms we use to define her today! We are the People of God, "advancing toward the complete fulfillment of our destiny, a servant and witness people, dedicated to the furtherance of our own growth." (Congar). We are the members of Christ's Mystical Body, growing with him who is our head, enriched by the Holy Spirit dwelling in us.

How cold and incomplete seem our old legal definitions, or those built on mere appearance, or on a one-sided view of her work. The French layman who addressed the present council, Jean Guitton, gives a fresh description: "the communion of consciences united to Christ by the bond of love . . . the mystery of eternity already present in time through its germs." Now the council speaks solemnly of the Church as God's mystery: it is given strength by the power of the risen Lord, to overcome its sorrows and challenges, within and without, and to reveal to the world, faithfully though darkly, the mystery of the Lord, until in the end, it will be manifested in full light."

2. In Her Own Incarnation

Christ, the Word made flesh, preached the good news of the gospel, the coming of the Kingdom of God. And as he, the Son of God, shared our humanity, so did he form his Church as one complex reality with both divine and human elements. The Catholic Church has her own marks of identity, but too long have we used them to refute our adversaries. In a hostile society, the Church probably had to do so. But in our open, often apathetic world today, men do not argue. They want their needs filled, their aspirations reached, and things made relevant. Modern man is concerned about realities, not polemics.

Our Lord, starting with homely, warm images like the vine and its branches, the wayward son, the kindly Samaritan, the shepherd and his flock, put the gospel in words that men could grasp: "And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all things to myself." (John 12, 32). The Church was formed with that same warmth. Now we are that Church but Jesus is our Head, his Holy Spirit our soul. His life is poured into us through the sacraments; we grow unto him in strength; we are made one with him in suffering. Christ, man's greatest need, lives on in his Church. Until the end of time, she will be like him, both human and divine.

3. In Her Inner Self

It is of man's nature to know and to love. Truth and goodness are the very food and drink of our spirit. It is of the Church's nature to be committed to truth, because she is apostolic, and to love because she is holy. First, she must safeguard by an authentic tradition the deposit of God's revealed truth. This apostolicity is not only an identification; it is an inner necessity. As the Father sent his Son, so Jesus sent Peter and the other apostles. Their successors, popes and bishops, because of this apostolic bond speak in the name of Christ, and in certain instances, without fear of error. Pope Paul makes his profession of faith as Peter did, to our Lord: "You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God." Will our generation, sometimes humble, sometimes skeptical, say with the healed man who had been born blind, "I do believe, Lord!"? (Matt. 16, 16; John 9, 38).

So, too, the Church is holy, but still on pilgrimage. She embraces all, sinners and saints alike. The Constitution reads: "At the same time holy and always in need of being purified, she follows the way of penance and renewal." Her members must repent and reform. In man's personal discipline, his use of the sacraments of reconciliation, and the daily struggle against sin, the Christian criterion set by Pope Paul is tested-"he is not soft and cowardly, he is strong and faithful."

But her ministry as well as her ranks can know human frailty. The Church does not fail, but her human parts do. In "the essential conception of the Church . . . her basic structure . . . and the essential binding force of her law," there can be no reform because these are God's, as the present pope wrote in his first encyclical, Paths of the Church. But there are large areas that need correction and renewal. These lie in her "external forms," the use of "new forms and habits" in keeping with her own nature and the demands of our times. Thus, the exciting aggiornamento of Pope John is endorsed by Pope Paul: "to lead the Church back to the perfect form of her original design, fully consistent with the necessary development which, like a seed grown into a tree, has given the Church her legitimate and concrete form in history."

Neither truth nor holiness is automatic in Christianity; no push-button answers or cures are available. Newman wrote of "the slow, painful anxious taking up of new truths into an existing body of belief." (An Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine). Suhard based the continuing holiness of the Church on "the eliminations she made in time: for growth involves some measure of dying." (Growth and Decline). It was in this spirit that the American bishops set off for the opening of the Second Vatican Council. Their role, they stated in 1962, is "not to give hasty answers or mere routine approval, but to deliberate unhurriedly, to express their mature judgment, and in due time to cast their conscientious vote."

Truth is not a flash, but a facet of divine knowledge. Holiness is not a device, but the blended effort of man with the grace of God.

4. In the Human Family

Unity is a familiar term, but ecumenism is a new approach. The separation of the Orthodox in the 9th and 11th centuries and the pattern of Protestant reform in the 16th left a tragic legacy of bitterness and antagonism. In both cases, the Catholic Church tended to remain aloof. During our century, earnest efforts toward reconciliation were made; the names of Mercier, Halifax, Cullman and Bea stand out. But the popular non-denominational surge made ecumenical ventures suspect, both in theology and in acceptance. Then Pope John opened the doors to the separated brethren, and gave his successor the opportunity to say in 1963: "If we are in any way to blame for that separation, we humbly beg God's forgiveness. And we ask pardon, too, of our brethren who feel themselves to have been injured by us. For our part, we willingly forgive the injuries which the Catholic Church has suffered, and forget the grief endured . . ."

In these historic words, all the steps of union,-respect and courtesy, study and dialogue, self-examination and avoidance of offense, mutual works as well as common prayer and worship,-are foreshadowed. For all Christians are our brothers, baptized in the same sacrament, practicing the same virtues, reading the same Bible, addressing ourselves to God in his own prayer, Our Father.

The path to unity will not be easy, but we must put ourselves freely in the hands of God. If we "impose no burden beyond what is essential" (Acts 15, 28) and if we hear with shame the cry of St. Paul, "Is Christ then divided up?" (I Cor. 1, 13) the new decree on ecumenism will open our minds and hearts to others. Our own American prelate, Bishop Stephen Leven of San Antonio, called on all to stop mutual recrimination, and "proceed in an orderly way with this providential movement called ecumenism." Cardinal Raul Henrique of Chile said that principles are not enough: "we must also act ecumenically!" In our archdiocese, the fine beginnings will be continued as new directives implement the present decree.

Our bond with the Jews is of a special historic nature. We are in some way a continuation of the chosen people of Israel, not only because Jesus and his apostles were Jews but because the covenant of the Old Testament was the first Catholic charter. Far from anti-Semitism and the preposterous charge that the Jews are guilty of Jesus' death, the Christian owes this chosen people "our necessary thanks," in Cardinal Bea's phrase.

Around God's Holy People, Pope Paul envisioned a series of concentric circles: the Jews sharing in our history of salvation; the Moslems worshipping the same true God; the members of the great Afro-Asiatic religions; those who seek an unknown God. All are related to the Church as St. Thomas explained centuries ago. To them all Christ sent his apostles: "make disciples of all nations." Even the professed atheist is included, and the communist. His philosophy is staunchly condemned, but as John XXIII did in Peace on Earth, so does Paul,-distinguish between their atheistic doctrine and their political, economic and social development through history. We must seek out the good motives of the atheist and communist: not only their goals or their tactics but his impatient desire for solidarity, dreams of justice and progress, and a zeal for scientific answers. It may seem impossible to talk with them but the pope in Christian optimism thinks otherwise; "For the lover of truth, discussion is always possible." No doors will be closed.

5. In the World

Perhaps this is the heart of the Mystery,-the Church incarnate in the world, meeting, knowing and loving it; yet not deceived nor stifled nor profaned by it. Christ did not pray to his Father to take his followers "out of the world, but that you would keep them clear of evil." (John 17, 15). We can take a handful of the world's good things (knowledge, fraternity, beauty, possessions, honors, pleasure, security) and apply to all of them the rule-of-thumb: we must be in the world but not of it!

Our concessions will destroy us if we conform to the world's values. Underneath each worldly benefit lies a moral danger. There can be vanity in knowledge and beauty, greed in possessions, lust in pleasure, sloth in security. The sins are not intrinsically linked to human life, but man needs constantly to be warned, mortified and often forgiven.

Yet how can the Church stand apart from the world it must save? Has it become, in Suhard's anguished cry, "absent from the city"? The council seeks to return her to it. In such themes as religious liberty and modern society, it struggles to give her a place among men. In Paul VI's words, she must draw close to them, purify and ennoble them, vivify and sanctify them. This council is pastoral because the needs of today are in men's lives.

It is not too late, but it is not a whit too soon. The late Dag Hammarskjold, United Nations' secretary and sensitive spiritual poet (as his Markings now reveal), once said: "The road to holiness necessarily passes through the world of action."

Bishop John Hines, newly-installed presiding bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church, quoting the Swedish diplomat, added, "The Church as an agent of God's reconciling love cannot survive this revolution as an observer."

There is a mystery of the world as well as of the Church-its complexity, its values, its secret powers. But the Church has something to say to it, a message to deliver. This is the gospel of Jesus. "But first," the present pope insists, "we must meet the world and talk to it." The Church is universal in her scope, as she has apostolicity for her credentials, holiness as her purpose, and unity as her bond.

6. In the Destiny of Her Glory

The Church is on pilgrimage, her sanctity is real although imperfect, (Constitution on the Church), her fullness will appear only in the glory of heaven. Our temporal view of Christianity in her ministry, sacraments and institutions is a noble vision, but St. Paul assures us that nothing can compare with our experience of God, and St. John tells us why: "We shall see him as he is." (Rom. 8, 18; I John 3, 2).

The beautiful doctrine of the communion of saints locates us as pilgrims. Other saints are either in their ultimate state of glory (heaven) or else being purified for it (purgatory). We all form one Church,-God's people and Christ's body,-indeed one family. This final destiny, through Christ and in him, will be sure when he comes in his majesty and all death is destroyed. Till then we pray for them and for us too. Each faithful Christian has his proper role of intercession, petition and gratitude.

It is difficult for us to contemplate heaven. The Donatists in the 5th century thought there were two churches-one on earth, the other at the end of the world. St. Augustine corrected them by showing that the saints of tomorrow are the just of today. Will we recognize the Church of Christ's return? There will be no hierarchy except of holiness, no laws except of love. Sacraments will be unnecessary, because grace will be swept up in glory as a means to its end. Since we shall see God, faith will vanish; since we shall possess him, hope will disappear. In the lives of God's saints, there will be no sin, no suffering, no death.

In "the day of the Lord," only man and God will remain, linked by one reality of the present structure. Only charity,-love of God and neighbor,-will endure. It will be the bond of our life with God, uniting us to him and to each other. Charity rejoices with the truth. No longer will we be concerned with the things of a child. We will grow to a maturity of a man. This is man's destiny. No longer will we see God as in a mirror. We will see him face to face.

7. In Reality

Unchangeability in the Catholic Church rests in Christ. He founded her, reveals God through her, empowers her to grow and guarantees her life. It was he who built her upon a rock. Catholicism, in Suhard's words, is "the undying prolongation of the Savior in time.”

But it was Christ himself who compared her to a mustard seed with its remarkable future. She does not remain static but develops, changes and grows with the seasons. He compared her to living things: the branches of the vine, the flock of the shepherd. The features of any given century become her own. We can be sure of her goal, the salvation of men,-but not of her immediate path. Life and growth always partake of the unforeseen.

Catholics sometimes do not distinguish between the unchangeable goal and the changing course of their Church. We forget that the only absolute is Christ's presence. We tend to give the Church a new rule and mark --rigidity. This rigidity is echoed in such words as "The Church is always the same," or "the Church cannot change her teaching." And it is now disturbing those who want the Mass to escape all changes.

Those who read history, those who study the reasons for Pope John's updating, those loyal to the reality of Christ in his Church are not disturbed. They understand why he made the council's purpose: "to expound Church teaching" (in every essential detail) "in a manner demanded by the times" (so that men of today, all of them, could understand).

The Church is built upon a rock. Her nature is that of a vine. Our Lord, not some rule of rigidity, placed the rock. He, not some static norm of unchangeability, gives the vine its growth.

II -- WE FACE THE CHANGING WORLD OF 1965

Change is natural to us. This should not surprise Americans since the United States has produced so many technological transformations. Moreover, our most characteristic philosophy, as well as our way of life, is pragmatism, putting ideas to work, exulting in their struggle and competition. This dynamism is becoming worldwide. First in the wealthy people around the Atlantic, now among the emerging modern nations of Asia and Africa, the demand for change goes on. Writing of the world economy, Barbara Ward, noting the "speed, intensity and scale of the changes," concludes: "The whole human species is involved in this upheaval."

1 . "To Live Is To Change"

These are Newman's words about great ideas and their period of development. Nature is ever in flux, and we have noticed it since childhood. As the seed becomes a tree, so does the infant become a man. Human institutions develop too: politically, from absolutism to democracy; economically, from individualism to collaboration. These changes cost blood and sweat and the tears of disillusion. The growth of any living thing is problematic,-but risks must be encountered. The late Father Gustav Weigel summed it up: "History means change."

Is the Church involved? Since Christ is her head, she will not change in substance. God, His revelation to man, and the means to man's redemption are unalterable facts. But the Church exists in and for human society. She even has something of the appearance of the world, as the new Constitution points out,-men, books, bread, wine, water, oil, etc. Her roots are deep in mankind. The trials and progress of the world, "like the waves of an ocean, envelop and agitate the Church herself," as Paul VI has written. Changes in modern man and upheavals in society influence not only our mode of life, but our very manner of thinking.

On one hand, this has opened up for the modern world a curious relativism, a deadly determinism, and an escape from the real into the kind of futility T. S. Eliot described in The Cocktail Party:

"The final desolation
of solitude in the phantasmal world
of imagination, shuffling memories and desires."

In his search for man's spirit, Eliot sounds the death-knoll appropriate for this futile society.

"This is the way the world ends,
Not with a bang but with a whimper."

But, on the other hand, the world's changes can breed confidence as well as hopelessness. They have opened avenues of which the apostles never dreamed. From the revolutions in travel, communications, industrialism, technology and the world market a new physical unity is now upon us. The grim possibility of mutual annihilation girdles our fast-closing globe. What is Christianity to say and do in this new unity?

"The Church is not a museum of remembrances," Pope Paul reminds us. "It is a living community." Only that community can live and grow which, holding fast to its substance, is ready to change as nature, man and society must change.

2. Frontiers and Forays

The upheaval is documented by commentators of the world scene in a thousand details. Many areas are vast and urgent enough to require our personal concern. To each the Church (that is, all of us, God's people) must make the response appropriate to our God-given destiny.

The frontiers of knowledge have always been pushed back but never as fast as in our century. Whole new fields of facts must be covered. As the data multiplies, only specialists can keep up. This leads to an interdependence of all knowledge around an "omega point" of truth, to paraphrase de Chardin. The era of the book fades into that of the picture, and now Telstar and its kin lead the foray into the new phase of instant words and sights. What will this do to human consciousness? One thing is fairly certain: the Church will not repeat her conflict with Galileo, nor her 19th century isolation from the new dimensions of knowledge. She will ever be custodian of divine truth. She must ever be the friend of human truth whether the frontier be philosophical, historical, scientific or sociological. The present pope has picked up the gauntlet:

"We share with the whole of mankind a common nature. We are ready to play our part . . . to applaud the new, and sometimes sublime expressions of its genius."

The complexity of our economy is another transformation: work, automation, poverty, leisure. A distinguished group of 32 citizens recently took a long, hard look at our American economy. They focused attention on the "Triple Revolution" in cybernation, human rights and armament. Is an efficient but dehumanized community to emerge by default? Their answer: "Gaining control of our future requires the conscious formation of the society we wish to have." In this formation, the Church reminds her lay members, "that created goods may be perfected by human labor, technical skills and civic culture for the benefit of all men, according to the design of the Creator and the light of His Word."

Intimately connected to all this is the vast area of concern and care--for the poor, the weak, the suffering, the dispossessed, the lonely and the anonymous. Wide responsibility rests here on political, economic and social agencies. But the Church has a special charter from her founder who "went about doing good." Her virtues of poverty and charity have made her sensitive to needs, the lawful use of economic reality and the human aspects of economic questions,-as well as deeper spiritual needs. These last are part of her inner life. But six Roman pontiffs have prepared the way for Paul VI's principle: "Economic goods must be used in justice and equity for the common good and accordingly distributed with greater foresight."

"There will be no longer any local crisis," Jean Guitton has written. This is becoming true of the problems of marriages and home, family and increasing population; of the curbs on man's liberty through racism and nationalism; of spiritual crises arising from the cross-fire of authority and freedom; and of the terrifying choice of peace or war. Each impinges on the other. Our time is one of grave decisions-personal, social and public, -- as we seek painfully for solutions. The Church does not offer these particular solutions, but from her treasure-house of truth, goodness and values, she brings to an agonized humanity a greater boon--clear and pertinent principles rooted in the spirit of man.

At the summit of man's being is religion, what he does (or does not do) about his bond with God and men. A society of many creeds is called "pluralistic," but our American situation is better described as one of assorted beliefs and denials. For each citizen who believes in God there are several to whom God (if He does exist) is irrelevant.

True ecumenism, rooted in truth and charity, will ultimately prevail because its source is Christ's prayer. But this spirit of real unity-including respect and love for non-Christians too,-has nothing in common with a "naive optimism" which finds the answer in man himself, nor that "crude form of pessimism" which finds vices fatal and incurable. The Catholic must find his right place in the pluralistic society. But he will not be helped by the optimism of non-creedal, non-committed brotherhood nor the pessimisms of the cult of futility. The gospel is "lightness, newness, energy, rebirth and salvation," in the present pope's words. This is an echo of Saint Paul:

"You must not fall in with the manners of this world; there must be an inward change, a remaking of your minds so that you can satisfy by yourselves what is God's Will, the good thing, the desirable thing, the perfect thing." (Rom. 12, 2)

Mankind's leaders make daily forays across these frontiers of knowledge, economy, welfare, home, human equality, authority, peace and the religious world of today. Is the Church ready for this new exploration? Her mood is humble but brave; serious but hopeful. Since Leo XIII, she has studied the maps of human conduct. Under John XXIII and Paul VI she has become increasingly enmeshed in modern society. Generally our laity, religious and priests see the tremendous gains in this growing sensitivity to human change, gains for both the Church and mankind. The Council Fathers have spoken boldly and confidently of the need of changes. "Their consensus, which individually even they probably did not suspect until they came together," comments the American writer, John Cogley, "is now too obvious for serious challenge."

III -- THE CHURCH MOVES TO HER PRESENT TASK

It is one thing to be concerned, something far greater to be committed. After three sessions of the Council, it is clear that the Church has answers which humanity can use. Are we ready to offer them? Basically the answers will depend upon everyone in the Church participating. Is the layman's role clarified? the priests'? the bishops' and pope's? Because none exist in isolation, they are grouped in terms of their mutual cooperation.

1. The Laity and Their Priests

Each layman has an apostolic duty in his world as a missionary to the special environment in which he lives, works and relaxes. His vocation centers in this, that he "seek the Kingdom of God by engaging in temporal affairs and ordering them according to the plan of God," as the Constitution expresses it. They work for the sanctification of the world from within as a leaven. They are a "royal priesthood" (1 Peter 2, 9-10) sharing this priesthood with bishop and priest in a manner that is really distinct in essence, but very much inter-related in function. Connected with the ministry's role of prophet, the layman is a witness. With its role of sanctifier, he has his own sacramental part in marriage. With its role of ruler, he exercises control over sin.

But it is in his own parish and diocese, the local community, that the Catholic finds a personal and intimate union with Christ and his brothers. This is not only because he is baptized and forgiven, married and buried there. Chiefly it is because the Eucharistic celebration of the Mass is held in the parish; the bishop authorizes, the priest consecrates. In the priest the bishop is present. When Saint Paul wrote to the Corinthians, he began, "To the Church of God insofar as it exists at Corinth." The whole Mystical Body of Our Lord is caught up in this local community. "Christ is present, and in virtue of His presence there is brought together the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church," as Saint Augustine said, and the Church now reaffirms.

The clergy and the faithful have proper rights and duties, and in the healthy parish, these blend in mutual, confident love. The laity have the right to receive spiritual service, especially the sacraments; to reveal their needs and desires with freedom and confidence; to express (when competent) their opinions of what is good for the Church. Their corresponding duties (besides the familiar "support of the parish") are prompt Christian obedience to their spiritual shepherds who represent Christ, and prayer that they may do their best.

Priests and bishops have a right to ask this obedience in matters related to spiritual care, and a right to expect the laymen's honesty, courage and prudence as well as reverence and charity. The clergy's duties are expressed in the Constitution thus: Let them "recognize and promote the dignity and responsibility of the laity; willingly employ their prudent advice; confidently assign duties to them allowing them freedom and room for action; encourage them to undertake tasks on their own initiative; and attentively in Christ consider the projects, suggestions and desires proposed."

Many fathers urged closer contact between the laity and hierarchy in the debate preceding the new Constitution. Probably none expressed it more effectively than Bishop Ernest Primeau of Manchester, New Hampshire. Dismissing the old formula for the whole lay vocation-believe, pray, obey and pay -- he stated: "They eagerly desire to take part in the apostolic work of the Church, and they certainly have the full intention of acting under the direction of the hierarchy, but not without being heard by the hierarchy in those areas where they have special competence."

Actually, the "emerging layman" is emerging once more, as Daniel Callahan's Mind o! the Catholic Layman points out. Earlier appearances of the layman were marred by clerical fear and indifference, and his own irresponsibility. This must not be permitted to happen again. The Church has acknowledged his right in Chapter IV of the Constitution. It is hoped that the schema on the layman will develop this more fully. Bishops and priests enjoying the holy liberty of the Council are more ready to share it with all of God's people.

The altar and the liturgy are the focal point of this new collaboration. The priest listens while lector and people express their part in the epistle, the proper and common chants. The laity listens when the celebrant prays for them, and especially in the Canon with the words of Consecration. Then both address God in the Lord's own prayer, "Our Father." Here is the Christian community cooperating in the highest form of action possible to man.

The lay teacher is not in the school to substitute for a sister, but to teach in her particular field of competence. The lay apostles of the Saint Vincent de Paul visit the needy not to save the priest time but to enter into their own area of compassion and charity. The lay editor, lay advisor, lay catechist, and especially the lay officers in our councils and lay representatives on our diocesan commissions of liturgy, unity and vocations are today familiar figures on the Catholic scene. An occasional misunderstanding on either side is small payment for the overall gain in mutual respect and cooperation.

The modern diocese is finding the new arrangement a key to a new and hopeful era of Catholicism. But it is in the modern parish where local priest and layman most aptly join to form that "inseparable pair" in Christ - the one who baptizes and the one baptized.

2. Priests and Their Bishops

The place of bishops, deacons and laity, discussed so fully at the Council, prompted one bishop to say: "By the very nature of his ministry, the bishop is supposed to teach, sanctify and rule (but) it is not the bishop but the priest who carries out practically all the actual, day by day ministry of teaching and sanctifying." (Archbishop Denis Hurley of South Africa) The bishops agreed, and the new Constitution devotes an important section to these ordained men, "the cooperators, aids and instruments of their bishop."

Every Catholic is familiar with the work of the parish priest. Now he is encouraged to see him in a new way. Through him the universal Church becomes visible in the local community as the whole Body of Christ is built up. And as the bishop is present in a way through the priest, so is Our Lord the Supreme High Priest present through the bishop.

This "immediacy" of the universal Church in the smallest parish, and of Christ in the person of the priest, no matter how large the parish, is a rich point of meditation for all but especially for the ministry. To the people the priest must be "a pattern of the flock." (1 Peter 5, 3) To the bishop he is a co-worker united with him in dignity, a partaker in Christ's unique power of mediation, a cooperator to serve the people of God. But the bond of bishop and priest is really that of father and son.

The bishop must be the Good Shepherd, knowing his flock, searching for them and if needed, dying for them. The Council opens a new door for God's People: "Let the bishop not refuse to listen to his subjects." If he must be open wide to the laity, how much more to those whom Christ called "not servants but friends," - the diocesan and religious priests assigned to work with him.

3. The Bishops and the Pope, Their Brother and Their Head

Most Catholics are aware that the First Vatican Council ended abruptly when the European war broke out. Its great achievement was the definition of the traditional primacy and infallibility of the pope. The nature of the episcopacy was never reached. Shortly after the Council, the bishops of Germany, alarmed by the fear of overcentralization, stated that the bishops were not just "instruments of the pope . . . or papal officials without responsibility." Pope Pius IX officially approved their statement. But the question of collegiality, the interlocking of both powers, remained, and when the Second Vatican Council opened, it was the resolve of many council fathers (including the present pope) to complete the work of a century ago by a definition of the bishops' power.

This has now been done. Collegiality is a highly intricate question of theology and history. The council, after stating clearly the action of Christ in appointing the twelve apostles as a college with Peter over them, then traced the next steps - the apostles appointed successors and they in turn did the same. "Bishops by divine institution have succeeded to the place of the apostles . . . and he who hears them, hears Christ."

The relation of the powers of pope and bishops are expressed in the new Constitution thus: (a) "The bishops, faithfully recognizing the primacy and pre-eminence of their head, exercise their own authority for the good of their own faithful, and indeed of the whole Church. They exercise an authority which is proper to them . . . The order of bishops is also the subject of supreme and full power over the universal Church, provided we understand this body together with its head the Rome Pontiff and never without this head." (b) "The college or body of bishops has no authority unless it is understood together with the Roman Pontiff, the successor of Peter, as its head . . . In virtue of his office, as vicar of Christ and pastor of the whole Church, the Roman Pontiff has full, supreme and universal power over the Church. And he is always free to exercise this power."

The bishops' role is already being enhanced. The body of bishops in each nation has certain clear jurisdiction, e.g. in areas of the liturgy. Many matters reserved to the Holy See are now handled by the individual bishop; the coming Code of Canon Law will probably extend these farther. The "Episcopal Senate" to meet regularly with the pope has not yet been determined, but both Popes John and Paul have carefully avoided interfering in the conciliar sessions.

Only ultimate good can come of this new collegial understanding of the relation of pope and bishops. The pope will gain from the knowledge and experience of his fellow-bishops around the world. The bishops will have a renewal of their world view of the Church, and a true missionary concern for all men. The local parish will see itself not as a district, but as a concentration of the Church into her own nature as an "event," to use the phrase of Father Karl Rahner, the German theologian. Both diocese and parish will begin to reflect this collegiality in the interlocking work of laity, religious, priests and bishop. And the universal Church will emerge in the hearts of her members as the fullness of Christ's Body since, "We being many are one body in Christ . . . The head cannot say to the feet 'I have no need of You.'" Saint Leo spoke of our dignity: "Remember of what Head and what Body you are now a member."

CONCLUSION: THE CHANGE IN THE US

We have written much of change, but said nothing of fresh insights into divine revelation, religious liberty, marriage and education; of new forms of priest formation, and new functions for professed sisters, brothers and priests; of a 2Oth century approach to the missions. Norms for these will take up the remaining session of the Council which opens September 14.

Rather, in the spirit of Ralph McGill's recent column "The Church and Community," (Atlanta Constitution, Feb. 16, 1965) this pastoral letter has indicated how we can open the well-springs of our faith for new fields of harvest. The problems of adults and teen-agers, slum projects, crime, alcoholism, urban and suburban tensions are difficult, but the Atlanta columnist insists: "The Church must move out of the church into the community." It will require our best talents and virtues, and a thorough Christian reorientation.

This letter, then is addressed to the People of God in our Archdiocese of Atlanta, and to all men who are interested. Already we have evidence that these are in the majority. But the pastoral speaks, too, to those who are impatient for more change, and those who are confused and opposed to it all.

This impatience is a trait of our age, and is ordinarily a healthy mood. But it sometimes savors of what Monsignor John T. Ellis has called "the curse of presentism," - everything must be done now. But ecumenism is not an invitation to togetherness; it is God's unseen providential plan. Liturgical renewal is not for novelty, but for understanding and participation. The present reexamination of marriage or missions or mariology is a stern duty of the Church, not a bid for popular approval. To live is to change, as Newman wrote, but in his hymn "Lead, Kindly Light," he carefully and prayerfully remembers, "one step enough for me." Pope John told the observers that the secret of his life was surrender to God "from moment to moment," always available, but unconcerned what the future would be. The impatient Catholic today should realize that "fire on the earth" must be kept under control, that the experience of twenty centuries is as vital to the Church as the insights of today, and that Christ's presence with us is the guarantee of our final success. The Church, in turn, must help the "presentist" on to this maturity with prayer and patience.

Yet we must move to our present task with courage and imagination as well as prudence and trust. Those who oppose all change do not realize that they are serving, not the Church, but only their own tastes. Some have simply grown used to old ways; their faith is more nostalgic than dynamic. Others condemn the renewal because they have read neither history nor the work of the present Council. Some still won't take a glass of water before Communion; do they want to be "more Catholic than the pope"? Some want selective renewal: they approve the new status of the laymen but disapprove the lector in church. Gently but firmly and constantly, all must be reminded that these changes are the law and spirit of 20th century Catholicism. It is folly for Catholics to keep voting for the 19th century. We are now close to the 21st.

In this blessed surge of the Holy Spirit, the aspirations of millions, the study of the scholars and the votes of the fathers have opened a new age. The over-eager and the resistant Catholics represent only a small minority in the Church. They need the Church's encouragement. Most Catholics want to do things God's way. Many of other faiths are interested and hopeful that the new spirit will soon prevail.

An American Catholic layman has put it thus: "The need of the day is not for better defenses of the Church, better arguments in her favor, better justification for Catholic belief - it is for a Catholicism which seeks the good of all, which has something to say to all (and not just to embattled Catholics) and which is a source of wisdom and unity for all."
(Callahan, The Mind of the Catholic Layman)

The new Constitution has defined her function in similar terms: "The Church prays and labors in order that the entire world may become the People of God, the Body of the Lord, and the Temple of the Holy Spirit, and that in Christ, the Head of all, honor and glory may be rendered to the Creator and Father of the universe."

May God bless you and yours as you pray and labor in such a manner that while the rock stands firm, the vine will not cease to grow.

Sincerely yours in Christ,

Most Reverend Paul J. Hallinan
Archbishop of Atlanta

+