January 2011 Print

A Hermeneutic of the Hermeneutic:

Reflections on the Implications and Ultimate Consequences of the Hermeneutic of Continuity

Benedict XVI’s pontificate has been marked by a few defining moments that have provoked some neither entirely foreseeable nor easily controlled reactions: one need only think of the polemics that ensued after the release of the motu proprio Summorum Pontificum. This act, which occasioned an openly hostile, widespread reaction, was also an opportunity for some to discover the Church’s genuine liturgical patrimony and, through it, they were spurred on to discover an ecclesiology and theological system not only different from, but also incompatible with, that forged over the last 50 years and peremptorily imposed on “the People of God.”

Among the choices characterizing Benedict XVI’s pontificate it seems to me that we can include the principle of the “hermeneutic of continuity,”¹ which was articulated in his famous speech to the Roman Curia of December 22, 2005. The speech was not followed by the explosive reactions that have occurred in other instances, but it did give rise to a current of thought, and to its opposition, that is still with us and merits our attention.

In the following reflections we intend to scrutinize what the principle of the hermeneutic of continuity asserts, and we shall try to situate it in the historical context of the Church today so as to deduce all of its implications.

A True Principle and an Unproven Presupposition

Forty years after the close of the Second Vatican Council, Benedict XVI recognizes the fact that situations creating a deep malaise arose after this historic event. He immediately frames the difficulty as a problem in the acceptance of the Council linked to a problem of the interpretation (hermeneutic) of the texts of the Council itself: too often, the Council was interpreted and thus applied in discontinuity with the perennial teaching of the Church, contrary to the objective meaning of its texts and contrary to the intentions of the Council Fathers themselves. The hermeneutic of continuity thus is presented as the proper approach to interpreting the Council authentically, according to its true intention and especially in perfect harmony with Tradition.

Benedict XVI’s intervention has the merit of highlighting a basic principle, namely, that in the Church’s magisterial teaching, there cannot be a break with previous teaching, but only continuity: what the Church has always taught can neither be surpassed nor set aside; rather, it constitutes the Church’s patrimony, which can neither be repudiated nor substantially altered.

We should remark that this truth recalled by Benedict XVI is in one sense quite simple; it pertains to the rudiments of the Faith and to the foundational principles that define the very nature of the Church. Consequently, the fact that he deemed it necessary to outline his papal program in light of this truth constitutes a first significant acknowledgement of the doctrinal crisis in which the Church finds itself. By solemnly reiterating such a simple, elementary truth, which had been set aside in practice and in common teaching, the Pope inevitably provided an objective indicator of the gravity of the current situation.

The usual commemorative orations about the Council were replaced in this speech by a reminder of elementary principles: it constituted an initial acknowledgment that something has not worked. Moreover, it should be recognized that the fact of recalling that there can be no break in the Church’s teaching prompted in some individuals, especially priests, a desire to valorize things past and the Tradition of the Church. In many cases this re-evaluation led to the progressive discovery of an absolutely new patrimony, which these priests felt had been denied them. This is certainly the most positive effect of the hermeneutic of continuity.

However, the hermeneutic of continuity stands out, not so much for its intrinsic, abstract value as in the concrete application made of it, as a two-edged sword: it affirms, in effect, that the documents of the Council are in perfect continuity with the Church’s perennial Tradition, and when it brings to light an objectively serious problem of a break, it systematically reduces it to a question of the interpretation of the Council itself, to a deviation that occurred in the post-conciliar period. The absolute fidelity of the Council to the previous authoritative teaching of the Church seems to remain as an indisputable postulate. In this way, the “blame” falls upon a heterodox current of thought incompatible with Catholic doctrine and foreign to the Council, but which paradoxically succeeded in steering in large part the application and the concrete results.²

As we now get to the crux of our considerations, we plan to situate the hermeneutic of continuity historically by seeking to grasp every aspect: without entering in detail into specific conciliar teachings, which have been discussed over and over, we realize that it postulates a series of elements which, instead of saving the Council, indirectly demonstrate its failure.

I. The Eclipse of the Magisterium

The Finality of the Magisterium

It is helpful first of all to focus our attention on the specific finality of the Church’s magisterium, and more particularly, that of a self-described “pastoral” Council. The question is capital insofar as finality represents the purpose of any reality and of all its specific, characteristic elements.

It should be remembered that the magisterium is by definition the proximate rule of faith, that is, the source that must say and explain to me what I must believe and do to be a good Christian and save my soul. In this sense, the magisterium is distinguished from Sacred Scripture and Tradition, which, while being the sources of Revelation, are remote rules of faith, that is, they necessitate intermediary explications by the magisterium for a proper understanding of their content. But if the solemn magisterium of a Council does not succeed in making itself understood such that after forty years–the duration of a Biblical generation–a Pope must call for the correct interpretation by seeking to indicate the basic interpretative criteria, that can mean only one thing: this Council failed in its specific finality.

If we then add to this general consideration the fact that the Second Vatican Council was presented from the outset as “pastoral,” that the intention was to emphasize its ultimate purpose of making itself understandable by all through the use of language in conformity with the sensibility of modern man; it means that the Council was explicitly and eminently intended to be “hermeneutical” in relation to the points it meant to treat, that is to say, capable of furnishing clear, certain, and accessible answers. But if after forty years a Pope must call for the correct interpretation, it means that the Council also failed in the “pastorality” that should have characterized it.

The Magisterium Is the Sole Interpreter of the Magisterium

Supposing that the problem of the Council can be reduced to a matter of its correct interpretation, a question immediately arises: from whom does the Pope ask for help to guarantee the hermeneutic of continuity? But especially: why does he ask for help? From the tenor of the speech, the Pope seems to denounce certain schools of theology as well as some widespread behavior in the Church. But at the same time, he seems to be asking for the help of theologians rather than the episcopate or other organizations directly subordinate to himself. But if the magisterium must be interpreted, the only competent organ is the Magisterium itself. No one can explain what the teaching authority means more clearly than the authority itself, and certainly, none has the authority to do so apart from it.

Why, we wonder, in the period after the Council, did not the Magisterium intervene in the manner indicated by the Pope?³ If he did so, why did he not succeed in his intention to make what the Council meant to say correctly understood? Prescinding from all other considerations, can a Council whose interpretation is not clear and a Magisterium that did not succeed in providing the desired clarity during the era inaugurated by this Council be considered trustworthy? The dilemma seems rather simple: if the Council did not fail, then it was the only body truly competent to explicate it that seems to have failed: the Magisterium of the post-conciliar era.

Or else, more simply, they both failed.

The hermeneutic of continuity, by intending to save a priori the Magisterium of the Council, indirectly condemns with an intensity in proportion to this intention, the Magisterium that ought to have guaranteed its correct interpretation, and in a certain sense, it declares its incapacity to intervene effectively. Here appears a rather obvious contradiction, result of the “inviolability” of the Council. Consequently, a satisfactory response cannot be furnished until people have the courage to serenely take the Council itself into consideration, by evaluating its finality, its unusual nature, its anomalies, and by redefining its dogmatic scope and the tenor of its contents: an authentic interpretation should first of all begin with the consideration of what it must interpret. This day does not seem close, and the present impasse is probably destined to go on somewhat longer.

Until the present, the Council has been systematically explained by the unique, self-sufficient, self-referential and indisputable authority of the Council itself. It is inevitable that with such premises, the problem of continuity with unchanging Tradition cannot be seriously broached and, in the final analysis, it cannot really interest us.

In this regard, the reaction of the bishops to the “wishes” of Benedict XVI should be mentioned as emblematic and extremely suggestive. The generally wary reaction against the prudent invitation to recuperate something from Tradition–naturally without raising the subject of the Council–joined with the indifference of many bishops, shows, alas, that it is the episcopal college itself that has assimilated an aversion to the Church’s past that is humanly speaking incurable, and which embodies in itself and its own conduct this “rupture” of which Benedict XVI would like to limit the damage. Unfortunately, such is the most representative fruit of the Council and the post-Council, slowly ripened over the last 50 years.

As for the theologians, another ripe fruit, it seems that we can state that the fundamental ambiguity of the Council, combined with the complementary absence of precise dogmatic definitions, produced and continues to produce a considerable number of theological schools, each characterized by its own specific originality. Consequently, the best known theologians after the Council seem to be a diverse group of “gurus,” each in pursuit of his own originality rather than representatives of a systematic theology, coherent and unified. This fact is important: since the Council does not have an official theology, but is upheld by non-homogeneous schools, any theological hermeneutic that would link it to Tradition or anything else would first of all have to justify its “school” before addressing a jungle of diverse and varied theses which would condemn from the outset such an effort to futility.

In this situation, it seems unlikely that the hermeneutic of continuity can rely upon the help of bishops or theologians.

Fundamentally, the Pope seems to be asking others, especially theologians, for a response and a clarity that only he can provide.

Two Significant Icons of the Post-Council

Let us illustrate what we’ve expounded about the relationship between the Council and the post-Council with an example: the liturgical reform. It involves a domain in which debate has taken place recently and, on the occasion of the promulgation of Summorum Pontificum, has inaugurated some critique, though very moderate, of the 1969 reform.

The Liturgical Reform

It is a fact universally admitted that Paul VI’s Missal is the first fruit of the Council and the most obvious. This “gift” was imposed on “the People of God” by the application of the Council’s principles to the liturgy, and it was achieved scarcely four years after the Council’s close.

It is undoubtedly legitimate to wonder if the liturgical reform did not go beyond the principles of the Council, as an attentive hermeneutic of continuity might suggest; but in case of an affirmative, it would be necessary to have the courage to ask also who bears the responsibility, be it the heterodox and turbulent theological schools, or those who had the authority to supervise the application of the Council? We shall only remark that the promulgation of the conciliar documents and the new missal bear, unfortunately, the signature of the authority in charge during the Council and after. Consequently, to limit systematically the problems in question to the interpretations of the Council that were given subsequently by creating a discontinuity between the Council and the post-Council, does not seem to be a schema that perfectly matches the reality.⁴

The Interreligious Meeting at Assisi

An analogous observation could be made concerning the full significance of the interreligious prayer meeting at Assisi of 1986. It represents the apogee of a long ecumenical and interreligious development and the historical model of every initiative of this kind.

It also represents the blackest day in the Church’s history.

It can be said that the meeting at Assisi exaggerated or exceeded the conciliar principles; that may certainly be discussed, but the fact remains that this initiative also bears, alas, like the promulgation of the Council, the signature of a Pope.

In brief, the hermeneutic of continuity leads necessarily to the admission that something did not function properly in the exercise of authority.

A Recent Observation by Msgr. Guido Pozzo

As regards the observations under consideration, we think it is interesting to take a look at the recent lecture of Msgr. Guido Pozzo, already mentioned. The prelate considers the chief cause of the hermeneutic of rupture to be a renunciation of the use of anathemas:

The first factor is the renunciation of the anathema, that is to say, clearly distinguishing between orthodoxy and heresy. In the name of what is called the “pastorality” of the Council, the idea was spread that the Church has renounced the condemnation of error and the definition of orthodoxy in opposition to heresy. The condemnation of errors and the anathemas previously pronounced by the Church on all that is incompatible with Christian truth is set over against the pastoral character of the teaching of the Council, which no longer wished to condemn or censure, but only to exhort, illustrate, or bear witness.

In reality, there is no contradiction between the firm condemnation and refutation of errors in doctrinal and moral matters and the love of those who have fallen into error and respect for their human dignity. On the contrary, it is because the Christian has a great respect for the human person that he expends himself boundlessly to liberate his fellow men from error and false interpretations of religious and moral reality.

Adherence to the person of Jesus Christ, Son of God, to His word and to the mystery of salvation, demands a clear and simple response of faith, such as it is found in the symbols of faith and the regula fidei. The proclamation of the truths of faith also implies the refutation of error and the censure of ambiguous and dangerous positions that spread uncertainty and confusion among the faithful.

It would thus be false and unfounded to consider that after the Second Vatican Council, the dogmatic affirmation of the Church’s Magisterium should be abandoned or excluded, just as it would be equally erroneous to consider that the explanatory and pastoral nature of the documents of the Second Vatican Council does not also imply a doctrine that requires from the faithful the level of assent according to the different degrees of authority of the proposed doctrines.

Msgr. Pozzo adopts an observation that has always been expressed by the “traditionalists” about the Council,⁵ but, as a good interpreter of the hermeneutic of continuity, he rigorously restricts it to the post-conciliar period or, to use the same term as he, the “para-conciliar ideology.” Naturally, we do not question his good intentions, but this manner of proceeding highlights the fundamental contradiction: in all honesty, to accuse the “postcouncil” of having renounced the use of anathemas seems a rather strained interpretation when the documents of the Council contain not a single one.

On this point, it is obvious that the attitude of the post-conciliar period is in perfect continuity with what the Council expresses (or rather does not express): but both, the Council and the post-Council, represent an entirely new way of acting in comparison with the past; in short, it does not strike us as fair to continue to hunt for scapegoats only among those born after 1965.

Especially, we cannot fail to underline that an anathema can only be formulated by the one who has the authority to do it: in practice, by the one who is also responsible for the magisterium. If then the use of anathemas has been abandoned, it means that the authority mandated to formulate them has been in some way remiss.

Taking into account all these aspects, the hermeneutic of continuity, in the specific usage which has been made of it, appears dangerous to the Magisterium itself: the harder they try to save the Council, the more they risk definitively destroying the authority that should have guaranteed its correct interpretation, and especially the one authority that is currently called upon to bring a remedy to the evils afflicting the Church.

A principle that is good in itself, precisely because of its intrinsic goodness, risks becoming pernicious if it is applied without the requisite discernment; the a priori by which the Council is held to be necessarily in continuity with Tradition is a preconception that skews the entire status quæstionis and makes clear (with due respect to Msgr. Pozzo) the ideological nature of the approach. The fear of peacefully discussing the Council, with the necessary serenity and intellectual honesty, is nothing else than the umpteenth indicator of its intrinsic weakness.⁶

II. Ultimate Consequences of the Hermeneutic of Continuity

The Hermeneutic of Continuity Proves the Non-Infallibility of the Council

An infallible text by definition cannot be interpreted. If indeed an infallible text requires an interpretation, it is automatically the content of the interpretation that becomes infallible and no longer the original text, insofar as it is the interpretation that expresses the categorical and definitive formulation which is therefore capable of compelling assent. A definition necessarily concerns something definitive: to define what is not definitive would mean defining the indefinable, attempting to render static the flow of becoming.

Consequently, no authority can oblige someone to believe something before one knows what it is or what it expresses (whence the absolute precision of classical dogmatic formulas): it would be tantamount to asking someone to swim without letting him jump into the pool.

The application of this principle becomes even stricter if the responsible authority itself recognizes that an interpretation is seriously needed. Now, if after 40 years, the conciliar documents require a correct interpretation, it is proof that the Council cannot be binding on the Catholic conscience.

Contrariwise, on a purely theoretical level, its correct interpretation could be binding, but we know that for a correct interpretation to be authentic (in the modern sense of the term), it must be continually reformulated so that it can express something still living and therefore still true. In this hermeneutical mechanism, nothing can exist that is dogmatically constraining, for there can no longer be semantically stable dogmatic formulations. This aspect of the problem merits some supplementary reflection.

1965–2005–2010

We have already alluded to some implications of the “pastorality” of the Council, highlighting how the intention was to employ expressions and language adapted to the sensibility of contemporary man. Consequently, the language of the conciliar documents is nuanced to express the cultural climate, the typical apprehensions and enthusiasms of the sixties. Now, the social, cultural and religious context of the third millennium has undergone a transformation such that, from an honest and really hermeneutical perspective, the pastoral texts of the Council, rather than being reinterpreted, should be replaced by other texts in conformity with and adapted to the man of today. If they really wanted to continue to use them as the basis of an authentic interpretation, they should have the courage to recognize that every interpretation would have a contingent value, in conformity with the historical moment during which it was formulated, and that it should at the same time continue to face the reality, and so continue to provide adequate and therefore true responses.

The authentic hermeneutic, in the modern sense of the term, presupposes a sustained effort capable of producing new questions, new answers and new expressions, parallel and proportionate with humanity’s evolution, its problems, its expectations, and its life.

In wedding man in his concrete existence, in his being-in-the-world, which the Council intended to do, it is necessary to also wed perpetual becoming.⁷

The 2005 speech to the Curia, to take a recent example, is the expression of a precise intention of the Pope formulated and expressed at a precise moment of his pontificate. He would probably reformulate differently today what he expressed five years ago, taking into account what has happened in the Church during the last five years, how his sensibility has evolved and that of his flock…and how his “signals” were received by the bishops.

Getting back to the documents of the Council, if we push to the limit the hermeneutical dynamic described, they end up signifying something indefinable, or else equivocal and even, at the limit, contradictory. In this sense the documents, taken literally, prove to be incapable of signifying a univocal and definitive meaning.

The conclusion may seem exaggerated, but the moral, doctrinal and theological Babel that has invaded the Church today is really comparable to a mingling of true and false, good and evil, beautiful and ugly, absolute and relative, being and non-being…, the result of a basic attitude comprehensible only when it is understood that, by refusing to define anything, the authorities have given up teaching. If things have really reached this point, the Church can no longer–humanly speaking–either receive instruction or be governed. Nothing more can be taught because nothing can be defined in the classical sense of the word. No text or dogmatic formula can pretend any longer to have a meaning that is definitive, intrinsic, universal and eternal.

In the last analysis, this is the snare into which the Church fell with the Council. It is the snare in which the Magisterium itself is caught when it persists in trying to save the documents of the Council. In this scenario, the hermeneutic of continuity supplies a channel of communication with Tradition without, however, being allowed to escape the cage into which the Council has pushed the minds of the pupil and the professor.

An Inapplicable Analogy: The Historical Problem of the Acceptance of Councils

Probably for the sake of attenuating the current drama, the difficulties the Church has had in the past when applying the decisions of earlier councils are often mentioned; for instance, the Council of Nicaea or the Council of Trent. In short, when we look at history, we see that we must be patient and continue to hope.

While fully sharing this confidence in Providence, we seem to discern in this reasoning a certain misconception worthy of our attention. It is true that the Council of Trent, for example, met with numerous pockets of resistance, and it certainly wasn’t applied in a day; however, the fundamental cause of these difficulties seems to be far removed from the problems of the hermeneutic of Vatican II. The Council of Trent, in effect, met with obstacles precisely because of its doctrinal and disciplinary clarity: its texts were, then as now, self-explanatory, with such a clarity that they certainly frightened the parts of the Church and clergy reluctant to undertake the very necessary Catholic reform and the sacrifices it implied. Vatican II, on the contrary, was received and applied in a climate of general enthusiasm, especially by the most modernist wing of the clergy, now accused of not having understood what the Council meant.

Paradoxically, the comparison with previous Councils shows once more the fact that the problems that followed upon Vatican II must be related first and foremost to its intrinsic deficiency, totally absent from any other council in history.

The Hermeneutic of Continuity and the Council as “Superdogma”

At this point in our reflection, it seems to us particularly enlightening to recall an expression coined by then Cardinal Ratzinger. This expression, “superdogma,” has been used regularly by proponents of the hermeneutic of continuity to identify the failure that occurred in the interpretation of the Council.⁸ The Council would have been transformed into a “superdogma,” as if everything began with it and every reference to the Church’s perennial Tradition had been abandoned. The term is clear and incisive, and it has the merit of attaching a name to the complex problem of the absolutization of the Council. But this expression, like the hermeneutic of continuity it complements, risks eclipsing the root of the problem. In effect, it would once again recast the Council, too “superdogmatized” in its application and interpretation, yet save all its content. In short, everything would come down to a question of degree but not of substance.

This interpretation seems to leave the question not fully explored, especially if we apply, for argument’s sake, a similar treatment to other ecumenical councils. If, for example, the dogmatic decisions of the Council of Trent were absolutized, the Church would not become “tridentine” to the detriment of other truths not treated of directly by the Council of Trent; it would remain perfectly Catholic. If one were to “superdogmatize” the decisions of Nicaea, the Church would remain what it is, even extremely fortified and confirmed in the Faith of all time. This would be so because faith is a theological virtue which, having God for its object, is never too dogmatic in the sense that an “excess of dogma” or “excess of a dogma” error does not exist. If, for example, the dogmas of the Incarnation were “superdogmatized,” that is to say, if this dogma were hugely emphasized, this “superdogmatization” would never lead to an error. It would simply augment the explicit knowledge of this dogma and through it the whole dogmatic complex would emerge reinforced. In effect, the Faith is a simple, integral unicum, and not the result of the equilibrium of interdependent elements or heterogeneous components.

Consequently, the fact that the “superdogmatization” of the Second Vatican Council has led to the very grave situation we are familiar with and which a Pope recognizes, is a sign that the Council itself intrinsically contains elements that are not in accord with Tradition: its absolutization appears as an inevitable consequence of its lack of a link with the past. This absolutization has but amplified the innovations already present in the Council without creating them ex novo and independently of it.

This can be illustrated by the lack of anathemas (mentioned above), which characterizes, in perfect continuity, both the Council and the postconciliar era.

Conclusion

It seems to us that the entire affair that has arisen over the hermeneutic of continuity has the merit of bringing out the fundamental problem of the Council: it is about a structural problem before its being a textual problem:

• The Council does not teach in the classic sense, but juxtaposes ancient and new expressions and contents, things of a dogmatic nature and considerations of a contingent and pastoral nature.

• The result does not have a definitive value, but rather constitutes a platform from which to undertake continually recurring reinterpretations, ever living and up-to-date, which cannot be anchored in a particular historical moment nor be expressed in irreformable statements.

It is about an irrepressible hermeneutical movement that cannot be stopped until the Council is stopped, that is, when the movement it began is finally ended.

Probably, to arrive at this result, our minds would have to be reconverted to the fact that an absolute truth exists that can be expressed and described by definitive dogmatic affirmations that neither postulate nor necessitate any further hermeneutic.

It is about the classical dogmatic formulations of the unchanging and eternal Tradition of the Church: these, far from constituting an “incomplete and contradictory” notion of Tradition, far from constituting a “petrified” Tradition, are the only vehicle possible for handing on the apostolic Faith till the end of time.

 

Don David Pagliarani

From the Tradizione Cattolica, No. 3, 2010; translated from Courrier de Rome, October 2010, pp. 1-6.

¹ The expression “hermeneutic of continuity” is being employed for convenience’ sake, in that it is certainly the most widely used in popular writing to designate the kind of hermeneutic indicated by the Pope in opposition to a hermeneutic of “discontinuity and rupture.” More exactly, the Pope spoke of the “hermeneutic of reform.”

² Msgr. Guido Pozzo, the current secretary of the Ecclesia Dei Commission, in a recent lecture last July 2 at Wigratzbad, Germany, spoke of a “para-conciliar” ideology which “took hold of the Council from the beginning and superimposed itself on the proceedings.  By this expression we do not mean something concerning the documents of the Council, nor the intention of the participants, but rather the general framework of interpretation in which the Council was placed and which acts as a sort of internal treatment [conditionnement intérieur] affecting our subsequent reading of the facts and the texts.  The Council is not the same thing as the para-conciliar ideology, but the story about that ecclesial event and about the mass media has served in large part to mystify the Council, and that is precisely the para-conciliar ideology.…” The admission is serious, while obviously accompanied by an implicit absolution of the Council.

³ Unfortunately, John Paul II’s only important intervention as regards Tradition does not seem to be favorable to Tradition. It was the condemnation of the Society of St. Pius X in 1988, which was accused of having an “incomplete and contradictory” notion of Tradition. This condemnation, even before being aimed at particular individuals, was directed to a particular type of traditional behavior. It is interesting to note that Benedict XVI relates all the problems of the post-Council to an “interpretation of rupture” with Tradition, while his predecessor systematically ascribed these problems to an inadequate and incomplete application of the Council. On the one side we find error by excess; on the other, by defect.

⁴ The Motu Proprio Summorum Pontificum, which was intended to be a concrete, exemplary application of the hermeneutic of continuity in matters liturgical, limited itself to bringing together the former rite and the new rite in order to valorize the presumed continuity and to favor their mutual enrichment, excluding any kind of definitive judgment about the quality of the liturgical reform. In this sense, it does not directly bring up for discussion the application of the Council achieved by Paul VI’s reform. But if the new liturgy were already in perfect continuity with the former, their rapprochement would not really make sense and would be merely superfluous, the new rite itself being an expression of continuity. And especially, were it so, it is hard to understand why the former rite was not naturally and simply welcomed back by the universal Church. Once again, they wish to valorize a continuity the loss of which they do not wish to admit.

⁵ The anathemas, namely, the condemnations of the errors opposed to the truths being defined, have always characterized the traditional Magisterium both in the Councils and in other forums. They express the will of the Teaching Church to “define” and consequently to “compel.” Their absence from the documents of Vatican II has always been offered in evidence as a sign of the absence of this will to “impose,” and thus as a proof of the non-infallibility of these texts. The argument rests on the fact that the Church cannot define a truth of faith without at the same time imposing it upon minds as a truth that must be believed.

⁶ Because of the institutional position of the author, Msgr. Pozzo’s lecture merits a few supplementary reflections. He identifies three general factors as causes of the hermeneutic of rupture. The first is the renunciation of the anathema, which has been mentioned. The second is the translation of Catholic thought into the categories of modernity:

The opening of the Church to the concerns and needs begotten by modernity (see Gaudium et Spes) is interpreted by the para-Conciliar ideology as a necessary reconciliation between Christianity and modern philosophical thought and ideological culture. This involves a theological and intellectual work that substantially proposes once more the idea of Modernism, condemned at the beginning of the 20th century by St. Pius X.

^It must be recognized that Msgr. Pozzo says something quite correct when he sees the current crisis as a reproposal of the modernist project condemned by St. Pius X. But the problem lies elsewhere, and it is much more radical: [the para-Conciliar ideology] could freely say the opposite and it would equally find a place in the hemicycle of the most disparate positions that are justified by appeal to the Council. How is this possible? It is also impossible for this point to be reduced to the problem of a malfunctioning hermeneutic. The Council was intended to face up to the modern world, to modern anthropology, to modern thought, as Benedict XVI explained abundantly in his speech of 22 December 2005: “the Council had to determine in a new way the relationship between the Church and the modern era.” But the Council chose to do it without denouncing or condemning the apostate and immanentist spirit of modern thought by trying a novel approach: what was lacking in the Council was precisely these anathemas… It seems rather natural to us that, without using classical definitions and anathemas, the Council opened the way to different and divergent interpretations. To desire to impose one interpretation rather than another 45 years later while maintaining the fundamental ambiguity of the conciliar texts is quite simply impossible. Msgr. Pozzo is free to express himself as above, but other institutional figures can also freely express themselves, like bishops…, who may have decidedly different nuances. The only freedom not granted to anyone is that of suppressing the first cause of the ambiguity, the amphibology, the circiterism (to use a term dear to Romano Amerio), which allows the coexistence of the most disparate positions.

^The third factor Msgr. Pozzo identifies is the bad interpretation of the idea of “aggiornamento” [updating]. This theme appears to be linked to the preceding one, even though it has a specific character which we shall show later: “By the term aggiornamento, Pope John XXIII wanted to indicate the primary task of Vatican Council II. This term in the thought of the Pope and the Council did not, however, express what has occurred in its name in the ideological implementation of the post-Conciliar period….”

^Msgr. Pozzo’s speech is extremely significant, and he quotes the famous description of Paul VI [“Through some crack, the smoke of Satan has entered the temple of God….]. Paul VI spoke of a “crack” which, however, still seems not to have been identified in the analysis presented by the prelate. We shall not repeat what we have already noted; as for the origin of this “crack,” it seems obvious.

^We simply note that aggiornamento signifies a relationship with the contingent present which tomorrow will have already have passed: it thus implies a complex relationship between transcendent things and changing things. On this point, too, the Council declined to establish fixed and definitive points (and in a certain sense it could not furnish them because of the contingency of the “present” to which it wished to be linked), but it involved itself in a movement of adaptation that has not yet finished and which, because of the flow of History, will never be finished. It involves an essential aspect of the hermeneutical problem, which we shall analyze during the course of our reflections and to which we refer the reader.

^For the moment it will suffice to underline that all that is contingent cannot, by nature, be definitive nor the object of irreformable definitions, but strictly concerns the sphere of historical becoming. Now, the Church has always been occupied with adapting itself to new situations, and this is not something exceptional to Vatican II; but the Council seems to juxtapose, without making the necessary distinctions, what belongs to the doctrinal sphere and what concerns historical contingency. This lack of clarity and of necessary distinctions represents a permanent source of confusion and of the dogmatization of what cannot be dogmatized. In general, appeals to the authority of the Council do not address this manifest problem.

⁷ In sum, the hermeneutic of continuity must obligatorily harmonize elements that appear resolutely irreconcilable: Tradition, the documents of the Council, and the present evolution of mankind.

⁸ The expression was used for the first time by Cardinal Ratzinger on July 13, 1988, during a speech to the Chilean bishops, in which the Cardinal, commenting on the “Lefebvre Case,” expounded certain analyses and thoughts in which we find the germ of the fundamental principles of the hermeneutic of continuity. We cite here a short passage:

It is a necessary task to defend the Second Vatican Council against Msgr. Lefebvre, as valid, and as binding upon the Church. Certainly there is a mentality of narrow views that isolate Vatican II and which has provoked this opposition. There are many accounts of it which give the impression that, from Vatican II onward, everything has been changed, and that what preceded it has no value or, at best, has value only in the light of Vatican II. The Second Vatican Council has not been treated as a part of the entire living Tradition of the Church, but as an end of Tradition, a new start from zero. The truth is that this particular council defined no dogma at all, and deliberately chose to remain on a modest level, as a merely pastoral council; and yet many treat it as though it had made itself into a sort of superdogma which takes away the importance of all the rest. This idea is made stronger by things that are now happening. That which previously was considered most holy – the form in which the liturgy was handed down – suddenly appears as the most forbidden of all things, the one thing that can safely be prohibited. It is intolerable to criticize decisions which have been taken since the council; on the other hand, if men make question of ancient rules, or even of the great truths of the faith–for instance, the corporal virginity of Mary, the bodily Resurrection of Jesus, the immortality of the soul, etc.–nobody complains or only does so with the greatest moderation. I myself, when I was a professor, have seen how the very same bishop who, before the council, had fired a teacher who was really irreproachable, for a certain crudeness of speech, was not prepared, after the council, to dismiss a professor who openly denied certain fundamental truths of the faith. All this leads a great number of people to ask themselves if the Church of today is really the same as that of yesterday, or if they have changed it for something else without telling people. The one way in which Vatican II can be made plausible is to present it as it is; one part of the unbroken, the unique Tradition of the Church and of her faith. In the spiritual movements of the postconciliar era, there is not the slightest doubt that frequently there has been an obliviousness, or even a suppression, of the issue of truth: Here perhaps we confront the crucial problem for theology and for pastoral work today.