Richard P. McBrien's Methodology
of Ambiguity and Deceptive Method

lf one were to judge a book by its (back) cover, the newly revised edition of Richard McBrien's "Catholicism" would have all the appearances of a clear, competent and complete guide to the teachings of the Catholic Church. With praises from diverse authorities, ranging from the Anglican Archbishop of Canterbury to theologians from Fordham, Boston College and the Gregorianum, this impressive-looking volume seems to possess all the luster and academic credentials needed to be considered 'The Book' on "Catholicism."

As is well-known, though, we cannot judge a book by its cover, and the question that must be asked is whether: "Fr. McBrien has presented Catholicism as it really is" OR "Catholicism as he would want it to be". Of course, credit should be given where credit is due. Any book of over 1200 pages surely deserves some recognition for the work that went into it, and if one is looking for a quick summary of the thoughts of theologians like Edward Schillebeeckx, Hans Kung and Johannes Metz, McBrien's book is certainly useful. However, if one is looking for a clear and faithful exposition of authentic Catholic Teaching, one would be well-advised to steer clear of McBrien's opus and concentrate instead on the "Catechism of the Catholic Church".

In reading McBrien's text, it is clear that the author has mastered Catholic vocabulary and knows how to give the reader the impression of being rooted in the Catholic tradition. It is here, though, that a disturbing tendency emerges. What one often finds is a discussion of a traditional Catholic dogma cast in ambiguous terms by a skillful turn-of-phrase or a clever sleight-of-hand. Thus, the uncritical reader, is given the false impression that McBrien's discussion of the dogma is safely rooted within the parameters of Catholic orthodoxy without realizing that the author has skillfully undercut the full meaning and authority of the dogma itself.

A good example of this is McBrien's discussion of ecclesiology. After reviewing a broad spectrum of contemporary ecclesiological models, ranging from those of Karl Rahner and Hans Urs von Balthazar to those of Leonardo Boff and Rosemary Radforth Ruether, McBrien is able to characterize the ecclesiology of the "Catechism of the Catholic Church" as being "like von Balthazar's, 'from above'" (p. 715). The impression given is that the 'Catechism' represents only one of many possible Catholic ecclesiological models. Beyond this, McBrien also notes that:

"...in articulating the Church's mission, the 'Catechism' makes no mention of the broader social mission described in the Council's 'Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World'."
(p. 715)

[thus, one must conclude that] The intended impact is that the Catechism's ecclesiology is not only one-sided (since it presents an ecclesiology 'from above'). But it is also unfaithful to the actual teachings of Vatican II.

An unsuspecting reader could easily be taken in by all of this. However, an actual reading of the "Catechism of the Catholic Church" shows that the "Pastoral Constitution on the Church" indeed is cited in the Catechism's discussion of ecclesiology (see footnotes to paragraphs 776, 813, 853 and 854), and the social mission of the Church is given extensive treatment by the 'Catechism' in ns. 1877-1948 in the section on "Life in Christ". Beyond this, though, is that the Catechism's discussion of ecclesiology is taken primarily from the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church of Vatican II, "Lumen Gentium". Thus, McBrien's attempt to imply that the Catechism's ecclesiology departs from the teaching of Vatican II is simply a sleight-of-hand rather than a substantive objection.

Another example of McBrien's deceptive method is found in his discussion of the Catholic Church as the universal means of salvation. Here, he is willing to concede that "the Catholic Church alone has all the institutional elements necessary for the integrity of the Body of Christ" (p. 732). This leads him to conclude that "the Catholic Church is necessary for the individual who is called to the Church as such" (p. 733; his italics). The obvious implication is that God does not call all of mankind to belong to the Catholic Church but only certain individuals. This is a direct contradiction of the teaching of Vatican II which asserts that: "All men are called to be part of this Catholic unity of the people of God" (Lumen Gentium, 13).

Of course, the Council does recognize that those outside of the visible structure of the Catholic Church are "related to it in various ways" (Lumen Gentium, 13) and have, through Christian baptism, "a certain, though imperfect, communion with the Catholic Church " (Unitatis Redintegratio, 3). However, the Council's understanding of the "one Church of Christ" which "subsists in the Catholic Church, governed by the successor of Peter and the Bishops in communion with him" (Lumen Gentium, 8) is quite different from McBrien's understanding of the Church of Christ as "a communion of churches" which "embraces Catholics, Orthodox, Anglicans, Protestants and Oriental Christians alike" (p. 735). McBrien's clear intent is to suggest that Vatican II's recognition "that many elements of sanctification and of truth" are to be found outside of the Catholic Church's "visible structure" (Lumen Gentium, 8) justifies his contention that God calls only certain individuals to Catholic unity (p. 733). He also tries to show that the Council supports his belief that the Church of Christ "is, in fact, a communion of churches" (p.735) of which the Catholic Church is "a part," albeit "a very large and significant part indeed" (p. 732). These conclusions of McBrien are clearly his own and not those of Vatican II. Yet we can see how he very cleverly uses the texts of the Council to justify his own agenda.

Another example of McBrien's methodology of ambiguity is found in his discussion of papal authority and infallibility. He is correct to note on p. 749 that ecclesiastical authority should be understood as a service and that it does have a collegial character. This is also taught by the "Catechism of the Catholic Church" (ns. 876-877). However, McBrien uses the concept of collegiality as a means of obscuring the full extent of papal authority and infallibility. Thus, he asserts that:

"Vatican II made it clear that the infallibility of the Pope must always be related to the faith of the whole Church, that there must always be a close, collegial cooperation between the pope and bishops in the process of definition, that the assent of the Church can never be wanting to an authentic definition, that the Church is always a pilgrim Church, subject to sin and weakness, that there is a hierarchy of truths in the Christian deposit of faith, and that the doctrine of Vatican II on papal infallibility is not itself the last word on the subject (p. 265)."

What is the impact of this statement? It seems as if McBrien has brought together some general principles of Vatican II and applied them, out of context, to the doctrine of papal infallibility. While the Council does teach that the Pope and the bishops constitute "one apostolic college" (Lumen Gentium, 22), it also affirms that:

"the pope's primacy over all, both pastors and faithful, remains whole and intact" and the "in virtue of his office, that is 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." (idem)

The Council does not teach that "there must always be a close, collegial cooperation between the Pope and the bishops in the process of definition." These are the words of Fr. McBrien and not of Vatican II. While one could argue that such collegial cooperation is desirable in the formulation of an infallible definition of the Pope, nowhere does Vatican II demand such collegial cooperation. Instead, the Council teaches that "the charism of infallibility of the Church itself is individually present." (Lumen Gentium, 25) in the person of the Pope, when, as "the supreme teacher of the universal Church," he proclaims a doctrine of faith and morals by a definitive act.

A similar ambiguity is found in McBrien's reference to the assent of the Church that must never be wanting in regard to infallible papal pronouncements. He claims that the statement of Vatican I (and repeated by Vatican II) that infallible definitions of the Pope "are 'irreformable of themselves (ex sese) and not by reason of the agreement of the Church (non autem ex consensus Ecclesiae)' does not mean that the Pope is above the Church" (p. 764). In one sense, McBrien is correct since the infallibility exercised by the Pope is not separate from the infallibility of the Church under the divine assistance of the Holy Spirit. However, he fails to note that, when the Pope speaks infallibly, there is "in him individually the charism of infallibility of the Church herself" — in quo charisma infallibilitatis ipsius Ecclesiae singulariter in est — (Lumen Gentium, 25). This is why such definitions are irreformable in themselves and not by reason of the consent of the Church.

McBrien enters into even deeper ambiguity when he asserts that:

"the term consensus at Vatican I is to be understood in the juridical sense of official approval and not in the more general sense of agreement or acceptance of the Church as a whole, which according to Bishop Vincent Gasser (d. 1879), the definition's author and official author, can never be lacking" (p. 764).

What is the meaning of this comment? Is one to believe that Vatican I understood infallible papal pronouncements as independent of the juridicial consensus of the bishops but somehow dependent on the "more general agreement or acceptance of the Church as a whole? " Is this general assent of the Church a consequence of an infallible papal teaching or a requirement for a papal teaching to be received as infallible? McBrien's statement could read both ways, and thus, must be understood as ambiguous.

A similar ambiguity is present in McBrien's reference to Bishop Gasser. According to the 1979 Lutheran-Catholic Statement on "Teaching Authority and Infallibility," Bishop Gasser's point was that the Pope "is not protected against error except when he teaches as the successor of Peter, and hence as representing the universal Church" (see "Theological Studies", Vol. 40; no. 1, March 1979, p.142). Now Bishop's Gasser's observations have to be taken as the observations of one bishop on the meaning of Vatican I and cannot claim the same status of infallibility as the text of "Pastor Aeternus" itself. Beyond this, though, it must be said that there is a vast difference between the Pope speaking as the representative of the universal Church and the Pope needing the general approval or general agreement of the universal Church in order to proclaim a teaching infallibly. It seems as if McBrien's intent is to imply the latter interpretation. Support for this is given by McBrien's final words on papal infallibility:

"Disengaged from exaggerations of papal infallibility and placed in the wider context of collegiality and the nature of the Church as the people of God, the dogma of infallibility is much less an ecumenical problem than it once was (p.766)."

It seems as if McBrien wants to restate the dogma of papal infallibility in a manner which is less threatening to non-Catholics. This explains his apparent desire to require a "close, collegial collaboration between the Pope and the bishops in the process of definition" and "agreement or acceptance by the Church as a whole" in order to establish a papal teaching as infallible. However, such requirements are demanded by neither Vatican I nor Vatican II. At the very least, McBrien has cast the Catholic teaching on papal infallibility in an ambiguous light. One might reasonably interpret such ambiguity as a deliberate attempt to undermine the full extent of the dogma itself.

Other examples of McBrien's methodology of ambiguity can be provided. Sometimes, it simply is the choice of a word like the adjective "medieval" in reference to Pope Paul VI's defense of "Transubstantiation" given in "Mysterium Fidei" of 1965 (see p. 827). The implication is that 'Transubstantiation' is a medieval explanation of the Eucharist which "updated" Catholics should transcend (in spite of the new Catechism's clear reference to Christ's substantial presence in n. 1374).

Other times, McBrien will take an exception and make it a rule. For example, in recognizing that there might be some Catholics who are not culpable of formal heresy in their questioning of the Marian dogmas of the Immaculate Conception and the Assumption, McBrien gives the false impression that rejecting these dogmas could hardly ever threaten one's good standing with the Catholic Church (p. 1103).

McBrien's underlying attempt is to misuse the Council's reference to a "hierarchy of truths" in order to undermine the importance of these two great Marian dogmas (see p. 1102). What McBrien fails to appreciate is that the hierarchy of truths applies to dialogue with non-Catholic Christians (cf. Unitatis Redintegratio, 11). It in no way affects the solemn truth of the dogmas themselves which are revealed by God through the Church's solemn Magisterium. The pastoral effect of McBrien's discussion is that little importance should be given to the questioning or denial of these Marian dogmas by practicing Catholics. This is hardly the attitude of the Catholic Church on teachings which have been solemnly defined by the supreme Magisterium of the papal office.

While many more examples of McBrien's ambiguous methodology can be given, perhaps the most damaging to the life of faith is his treatment of conscience (pp. 968 ff.). McBrien defines Christian conscience as "the radical experience of ourselves as new creatures in Christ, enlivened by the Holy Spirit" (p. 969; his italics). While this definition might seem vague but benign, he follows it up with a series of half-truths about decisions of conscience being "necessarily incomplete and partial" because our circumstances "are always historically, socially and culturally defined." McBrien then nods with approval at Pope John Paul II's recognition that conscience is not infallible (Veritatis Splendor, n. 32). McBrien, however, wants to suggest that conscience is not infallible because moral absolutes are not possible to ascertain in a culturally conditioned world. The Pope's recognition of the fallibility of conscience, however, stems from his own recognition of human ignorance and sin (see Veritatis Splendor, 62-63). Here is a perfect example of McBrien invoking the authority of a papal encyclical to support a position which the encyclical does not support at all.

McBrien ultimately undercuts the Church's authority as a moral teacher by asserting that "the Church has never claimed to speak infallibly on a moral question, so there is probably no instance yet of a conflict between an individual's fallible decision in conscience and a teaching of the Church which is immune from error" (p. 973). The net effect of this view is an atmosphere of moral ambiguity in which a Catholic can clearly "differ with an official moral teaching of the Church" as long as there is "antecedent attention and respect to such teachings" (p.980).

The distance of this conclusion from the teachings of "Veritatis Splendor" and the "Catechism of the Catholic Church" is striking. McBrien utterly fails to appreciate that there are infallible moral judgements of the Catholic Church based on the unchanging natural law, Scripture and the constant and traditional teachings of the Church (cf. Veritatis Splendor, secs. 80-81). If he has any doubts about this, he should carefully read the Pope's latest encyclical, "Evangelium Vitae", in which the condemnations of direct abortion and euthanasia are given with magisterial certitude.

In conclusion, McBrien's "Catholicism" is a dangerous book — dangerous because it cloaks dissent in the vocabulary of the language of Catholicism itself. Its methodology is deceptive and its potential impact on the faithful is frightening. It deserves a Monitum from both the U.S. Bishops and the Holy See.

 

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