Dialectically engaging and a superb resource for
Catholic historical study,
January 16, 2013
Dialectics is an honorable but somewhat lapsed form of
Catholic intellectual practice. The strength of the thought of St. Thomas
Aquinas, for example, arises from the Scholastic method which proposed a
question, marshaled the best arguments for (or against) the proposition,
proposed an answer by rigorous analysis, and then responded to each of the
objections that had been raised. The virtue of that style was that it isolated
the real problems of a proposition and required that those problems be dealt
with. Likewise, Scholastic masters would subject themselves to "disputations"
following that Scholastic dialectical style, which ensured that they stayed
current, sharp and accountable for what they taught.
Joseph Costanzo's
"the Historical Credibility of Hans Kung" ("Historical Credibility") recreates
the spirit and form - to a limited extent - of the dialectical process of the
Scholastics. Father Costanzo's approach is to follow Hans Kung's argument in the
format that Kung presents those arguments in Kung's 1971 work "Infallible? An
Inquiry" ("Inquiry"). In other words, Costanzo is, in essence, reading Kung's
book and providing a response to Kung's claims and arguments in the order that
the claims and arguments come up in Kung's book.
A strength of this
approach is that it directly "clashes" with the points that Kung makes, so that
Kung's points, great or small, are given attention, correction or response as
necessary. Further, for a person who is reading, or has just read, Kung's
"Infallible?," the book is laid out so that the reader can cross-reference
Kung's and Costanzo's arguments seriatim. The weakness in this approach is that
it can lead to some choppiness and some redundancy. Although this does happen in
Costanzo's book, it is kept to a minimum. Another weakness is that in some ways
this is only half a book; Kung's book - to which Costanzo is responding is the
other part of the book. Costanzo does keep track of Kung's book by page numbers,
which gave me an urge to look up the corresponding page in Kung's book to check
out Kung's arguments. I haven't read Kung's "Infallible?," although I suspect
that I now will in order to compare what Costanzo said about Kung with what Kung
actually said.
However, even without reference to Kung's book, Costanzo's
work is a strong and engaging piece of scholarship from a perspective that we
don't often see, i.e., from the anti-anti-ultramontane side. Books by
anti-ultramontane Catholics are almost a dime a dozen. These books, which seek
to locate the worm in the apple of modern faith and culture at the doorstep of
"Rome" or "the Pope" or "the Vatican" or even "Catholicism," are a minor
industry. Such books include John Cornwell's
Hitler's
Pope and Cullen Murphy's
God's
Jury: The Inquisition and the Making of the Modern World, but they all run
with the theme that power-hungry popes were a uniquely malignant historical
force. All such books are noteworthy for using rhetorical devices like
"uprooting history" from the concrete historical situation by cherry-picking
facts unfavorable to Catholicism or the Papacy (such as Cornwell does by blaming
Pius XII for the demise of the Catholic Center Party without ever mentioning the
Reichstag Fire or the Enabling Acts, which occurred long before the Concordat)
and the Papacy or by linking unrelated and anachronistic historical events (such
Murphy does by linking "the Inquisition" to George W. Bush's war on terror). I
have read a number of these books, and found myself reviewing them in
necessarily long reviews, because it only takes a sentence to provide an
"uprooted" smear, but it takes pages to provide the "sitz im leben."
Kung
seems to have been the granddaddy of the Cornwells and Murphys. Father Costanzo
solidly documents Kung's penchant for providing bumper sticker statements of
history which misrepresent the actual historical context. Kung's style is even
more worthy of condemnation because it is clear that Kung - unlike Murphy and
Cornwell - knows better since he wrote books, published only a half-decade
earlier that set forth the true facts. The discrepancy between the Kung of 1964
and 1967 and the Kung of 1971 is well-established by Father Costanzo's gambit of
doing nothing more than quoting the Kung of 1967 - who saw nothing suspicious or
innovative or unhistorical about the claim of Papal infallibility - against the
Kung of 1971 - for whom Papal infallibility has no support
whatsoever.
The contrast is so startling that a recurring theme of Father
Costanzo is "what was it that changed Kung's mind?" Did Kung learn some new fact
that changed everything? If he did, Kung does not share it with the reader.
Further, unlike others who have had a sea-change in their faith - such as
Cardinal Newman - and who have felt an obligation to explain what happened, Kung
feels no such obligation. This is a fair point that got me thinking about
"motions for reconsideration" in the practice of law. In California, where I
practice, before someone can bring a motion to reconsider something a judge has
already decided, they have to provide new facts or law and an explanation about
why those facts weren't available the last time. The underlying premise of this
rule, which hadn't occurred to me until I read "Historical Credibility" is that
the rule is a way of respecting intellectual decisions - if an issue was
important enough to bring before a judge - or to write a book on - then the
person who made the motion - or wrote the book repudiating their old position -
ought to have the integrity to at least answer the questions, "what's new and
why didn't you know it before?"
This goes to the heart of Costanzo's
argument that Kung's credibility is suspect. Reading a book, or deciding a
motion, is an investment of time and effort by a third party. The reader or
judge starts with the premise that the movant or author is worth listening to,
that the movant or author ought to at least be given the benefit of the doubt in
favor of giving him a fair hearing with an open mind. When that person comes
back with the argument "never mind that, this is what I really meant," a judge
or reader has the right to say, "just how serious were you?" and "why did you
have me waste my time?" That's a question that deserves an
answer.
Costanzo speculates that the reason for Kung's volte-face was
Paul VI's encyclical on contraception, Humani Generis, which confirmed two
millennia of Catholic teaching but made Hans Kung concerned about papal tyranny.
Kung doesn't explain that this is the fact that changed his mind, but it does
turn up on his list of grievances against the papacy.
Costanzo also
speculates that Kung may have found himself hoping for more ecumenism than he
found possible so long as someone somewhere believed that there is such a thing
as objective theological truth and that this truth is knowable in some
preliminary way by human beings. Costanzo offers the quip - often made, but
since this book was published in 1979, it may be original with Costanzo - that
"[f]or some the `spirit' of the Second Vatican Council consists in ignoring its
explicit teaching and undeniable meaning in favor of some futurible Vatican III
or IV." (p. 116.) Kung therefore takes the questionable intellectual path -
which we see in the likes of Bart Erhman - of loudly proclaiming that knowledge
is always doubtful and uncertain before he starts dogmatizing without any doubt
or uncertainty. As Costanzo observes of Kung (in a vein similar to my
observation of Bart Erhman's dogmatism in my review of Ehrman's
Did Jesus
Exist?: The Historical Argument for Jesus of Nazareth):
"Not only is
the Catholic Church projected against Kung's own ecclesial authority, of popes,
bishops, priests, theologians, the Curia, canon law, of the whole course of
ecclesiastical history. Indeed, his judgments given without any self-awareness
of "fundamental ambiguity" constitute at the same time norms of rectitude in
every area of Church life. His judgments betray none of the "problematic
inherent in propositions as such." (Inquiry, p. 159). His judgments apparently
are above the five limitations that render them necessarily open to error. (p.
158 - 161) and wholly free from the general rule of Kung's own theory of
cognition that "every proposition can be true and false" (Inquiry, p. 172). In
Truthfulness (and in Inquiry) we are in the presence of the most absolutist
evaluatory judgment.
(p. 271.)
As I've said, I haven't read Kung,
but based on my experience with the "uprooting history/shotgun slander" approach
of anti-Catholic/anti-ultramontane polemics, I suspect that while Kung may be
superficially engaging for those who share his anti-Catholic/anti-ultamontanist
presuppositions, when his arguments are deconstructed, they will be a cat's
breakfast of self-contradiction.
However, for me, the best part of
Costanzo's book was its review of the history of Papal infallibility. Costanzo
devotes large chunks of his book to explaining the various threads in such
classic anti-Catholic tropes as Pope Honorius, the false decretals and the
origin of papal infallibility.
Pope Honorius, for example, is the classic
"go-to" argument for those who want to claim that a pope taught heresy. Usually,
all that disputants know is that Honorius was condemned for monothelitism, the
doctrine that there was only "one will, the divine will, in Jesus. Costanzo
theme is that Kung's "Inquiry" deliberately obfuscates the "sitz im leben" - the
concrete historical situation - in order to score points. Costanzo therefore
takes the time to explain the confusing situation confronting Honorius and to
quote from Honorius' letters. Costanzo's argument is that the two wills that
Honorius was referring to were two wills within the human nature of Jesus - the
will to the flesh and the will to love God - and that Jesus did not have the
former, also known as concupiscence, thus, there was only one will within the
human nature of Jesus, albeit there were two wills, a divine will and a human
will, within the hypostatic union of human and divine natures.
One can
well see the complexity of the issues involved in this concrete situation.
Moreover, if Costanzo is right, then that would explain why his successors - who
were adamantly opposed to monothelitism - defended Honorius as orthodox.
Honorius may not have been orthodox, but the case is far from settled, and, yet,
Kung treats it as settled against Catholicism, in complete contradiction to the
position that he took four years previously.
Likewise, Costanzo provides
a wonderful section describing all the occasions when the Bishop of Rome acted
as if he were the head of the Church, which conducted was accepted by his
contemporaries. Thus, the Bishops of Rome received homage from Emperors as the
head of the Church and the successor of Peter, successfully claimed immunity
from review or prosecution as the head of the church, deposed the Patriarchs of
Constantinople on two separate occasions, heard appeals from throughout the
Empire, defined membership in the Catholic Church as communion with the Bishop
of Rome, and were acclaimed as speaking with the authority of Peter, on two
separate occasions, throughout the fourth, fifth and sixth centuries. This is a
history that was essentially news to me. Although I study this area, most
historians don't take the time to get into the weeds on the "minor" popes of
this period who were, apparently, very aware of the living tradition that the
Bishop of Rome was the successor of Peter and his office was invested with some
definite claims and charism.
Costanzo also has a lengthy discussion of
St. Thomas Aquinas and the "false decretals of the Pseudo-Isidore." (p. 161 -
169.) This is another topic much beloved of anti-Catholic apologists - or
anti-ultramontane apologists such as Kung - whose thesis is that papal
infallibility emerged only after Aquinas gullibly accepted a forged document
containing expansive claims of papal authority (p. 209). As Costanzo explains,
the problem with this are the following: (a) not everything in Pseudo-Isidore
was forged, most of it is accurate (p. 166.); (b) Aquinas was not vetting the
false decretals for history; he was examining some of its propositions for
orthodoxy, which he determined by comparing them to the scripture (p. 212 -
213); and (c) Aquinas may have suspected the provenance of the decretals because
he drops them as a source for his Summa Theologica. The most historically
bizarre thing about Kung's citation to the false decretals as the fountain-head
of papal claims is that Kung apparently believes that Pelagius II - who was pope
from 579 to 591 relied on the false decretals in order to claim that only the
pope could call a council. Since the False Decretals were forged in 847 or 853,
this is a very misguided claim. (p. 216.) To the contrary, one of the bases of
papal infallibility was the pope's authority to convene a council, and that
right was undisputed since the Sixth Century. (p. 166.) In this section, these
kinds of gaffes cause Father Costanzo to wonder whether Kung actually read the
sources he cites. (I have had my own experience at a popular internet level with
this particular area, and my experience is that the charge is often the only
thing that people really know. Search for peterseanesq (dot)
blogspot.com/2011/12/use-of-forgeries-in-protestantism (dot)
html.)
Reading Costanzo's book is challenging. Costanzo liberally
sprinkles untranslated Latin throughout his text. He is also fond of archaic
words, such as indisponible. Be prepared to use the internet for translation
programs and dictionaries, but look at it as an opportunity to learn, which is
always a good thing.
I recommend this book for those willing to tackle a
serious subject in a serious way without reservation.