Pope Leo XIII, the Sun, and the Moon
Knowing the right questions to pose is already a mark of wisdom. Perhaps this is why the boy Jesus let Himself be found in the temple by Mary and Joseph not only listening to the doctors of the law, but also asking questions. Putting a question in the wrong way, on the other hand, like putting one’s shoes on the wrong feet, may cause us to stumble the more we try to advance.
In modern times, we often hear the question: “What should be the relation between Church and State?” Yet this way of putting things can be misleading. After all, the Church is the community of the baptized, and as such by rights encompasses the whole earth, without having any states outside it. Sometimes those who pose this question are unconsciously identifying the Church with the clergy: another dangerous idea, since the laity would then form no part of the Church. That would make the faith into an alien burden, like a taxation imposed by an occupying power, rather than the badge and pride of every Christian.
In modern times, we often hear the question: “What should be the relation between Church and State?” Yet this way of putting things can be misleading.
In any case, our fathers would not have put the question in quite this way. Pope Leo XIII, for example, whose writings are a mine of wisdom on these matters, never asks what the relation of Church and State should be, even though some of his translators make him do so. He speaks rather of two powers. These are the spiritual or ecclesiastical power and the temporal or civil power. “One of the two,” that pontiff wrote, “has for its proximate and chief object the well-being of this mortal life; the other, the everlasting joys of heaven” (Immortale Dei, 14). Already in the thirteenth century, Pope Innocent III had compared them to the two great lights created on the fourth day. Just as God made the sun and the moon to shine over the whole earth, so He established these two powers for the benefit of mankind.
The spiritual and temporal powers were also intimated by the prophet Zachariah, when he saw the two olive trees that furnished oil for the golden candlestick, itself an image of God’s people enlightened by the seven gifts of the Holy Ghost. The angel tells the prophet: These are the two sons of oil who stand before the Lord of the whole earth (Zach. 4:14). In context, this meant Josue the high priest and Zorobabel the governor, but according to the great exegete Cornelius a Lapide, the angel’s words show us that kings and other rulers, as well as bishops, should be God’s ministers for promoting virtue and right worship in His people. So, especially since the two olive trees re-appear in St John’s vision in the Apocalypse (Apoc. 11:3-4), we can safely conclude that God wills a partnership of the spiritual and temporal powers to mark the new covenant, no less than the old.
Nevertheless, an over-hasty reading of Pope Leo’s words could lead us to suppose that statesmen should take no interest in religion. Does he not say that each power has its own proper sphere of authority, as already implied by our Lord’s distinction between the things of Caesar and the things of God? And does he not teach that the right to judge about all sacred matters belongs to the bishops of the Church? (Immortale Dei, 14).
We must distinguish. ‘Authority’ is one thing; ‘duty’ is another. A child preparing for his first confession and first Holy Communion has no authority over these sacraments, and yet he has duties in their regard. If he grows up to become a king or president or prime minister, he will acquire new duties toward them. At the very least, he will have to ensure that the bishops in his land are free to distribute them, as they judge best. When politicians throughout the world shut our churches four years ago in the name of public health, they failed in this duty, and usurped the role of the spiritual power.
But the duties of the temporal power go well beyond this negative one of non-interference with what is sacred. After all, how can it promote “the well-being of this mortal life,” if it thinks of this mortal life alone? No one can be said to be using this life well, if he is not using it to seek first the kingdom of heaven. That is why Pope Leo specified that earthly happiness is only the proximate, not the sole, concern of statesmen. “Cities cannot without crime,” he wrote, “conduct themselves as if God did not exist at all, nor cast from themselves all care for religion as something strange and fruitless, nor choose from various forms of religions whichever pleases them” (Immortale Dei, 6). A ‘city,’ that is a sovereign unit, may be obliged by reason of its circumstances and the diversity of its citizenry to treat all religions alike. But it is not simply speaking in a good condition for as long as it forced to do so, just as a man is hardly in a good condition as long as he remains unbaptized.
After all, society is not a mere human artifact, like a chess-club or a university: it is a creation of God, like man or marriage. This is why each human society owes God worship, and of a kind that He has decreed, no less than each individual and each family. The body politic needs also to seek God’s aid against both human and infernal foes. For this reason, important public occasions, such as the installation of a new head of state, or the convening of a legislative assembly, should be accompanied by public prayer. Thus, in England, the new king or queen is anointed and crowned in a ceremony now Anglican and eclectic, but Catholic in origin and still in many of its details.
The ardent desire, therefore, of Catholics in public office must be that their society submit itself to the word of God and proclaim the kingship of Christ crucified. This does not mean that they should work to bring about a coup d’état. The change must happen by law, not by revolution. If the United States contained a large majority of convinced Catholics, they could have the constitution amended, by the usual mechanisms, to recognize the Catholic faith as true.
There is, however, more than one way for the spiritual and temporal powers to be in harmony. Using an image of great antiquity, Pope Leo compared the union of these powers to that of the soul and body in man. This implies that the ideal relation between them is for the spiritual power, the ‘soul,’ to be co-extensive with the temporal power, the ‘body.’ This in turn means that the citizens, who by definition have some share in temporal power (since they can elect and be elected), are all baptized, since it is only by baptism that a person comes under the authority of the Church. In such a scenario, the unbaptized would not be citizens, although they would not be outlaws either, since they would retain their natural rights. Likewise, public heresy and schism, duly judged by ecclesiastical courts, would cause the loss of citizenship until the offence had been absolved.
Such a union of the powers could be put in place wherever this would not mean depriving people of rights that they already legitimately enjoyed. This ‘body-soul’ relation was justly established, for example, during the re-evangelization of England from the time of St Gregory the Great. As soon as a local king was converted, he was free to choose his counselors from his fellow Catholics alone. A difficulty arises, though, in modern societies, where the inhabitants already possess the rights of citizenship, independently of their religion. To decide, even by a democratic vote, that non-Christians might no longer vote or hold public office, would be to take away from them a temporal good on account of their unbelief. And whatever the intentions of those so acting, this would look uncomfortably like coercing them towards baptism, which God forbids. But the Apostle admonishes us: From all appearance of evil refrain yourselves (I Thess. 5:22).
A different kind of union of the two powers therefore seems necessary today: one less perfect in itself, but more suited to our circumstances. Constitutions should still be amended to proclaim the truth of the Church’s faith, and the public counsels supported by her liturgy. The Church should be assisted, if she has need of help, from the public purse, for example, in the building of monasteries and universities, and in her works of charity, while non-Catholic religions (“as they are called,” Pope Leo would add), should not be supported in such a way. The great feasts of the Church should become public holidays. Yet, those who have never been enlightened in baptism should not be stripped of their rights to vote or serve on juries or hold public office, unless perhaps it be for some grave offence against the natural law, such as idolatry or atheism. Thus, the sun would still shine on the moon, and both together on the earth, even if differently than in the Middle Ages. A crescent moon may be less fair than a full one, and yet it still has its proper beauty.
TITLE IMAGE: This is known as the coronation image of Henry II, manuscript at Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Munich.