Living and Life-Giving Dogma

An acquaintance of mine, who is endlessly attending workshops and formation programmes in pastoral theology has, more than once, articulated this or that article of faith, only to wave his right hand dismissively and exclaim, "But that's just theology."

Conventional wisdom tells seminarians and young priests that the laity do not want  to hear "doctrine" preached in the liturgical homily, to say nothing of the rarity of clerics bringing their seminary knowledge to the ordinary believer in the pew.

Perhaps worst of all, it is not uncommon for the most (reputedly) brilliant theologians to be the least "devout"--I have had the misfortune of meeting some of my heroes, validating a certain proverb.

Another Testimony

My conversion to Holy Catholicity was largely a cerebral one; I engorged myself on catechisms and theology books--the venerable Fr Fred Brucker once half-jokingly pointed out that I was reading "old catechism books" when I asked about those other forms of baptism, "of desire" and "of blood" when he was presenting on the newly-released Catechism of the Catholic Church.  (Guilty as charged!  I had just finished Fr John Laux's Chief Truths of the Faith published by TAN Books.)

One of my dear friends, Denise (who shepherded my late mother as she was coming into the Church) introduced me to the Madonna House Apostolate.  It was there that I met Theresa Marsey, who would in time become a lasting influence in my life, a true "spiritual mother"--a veritable staretsa.  During one of my frequent visits to their field house in Muskegon, Michigan, she initiated me into the world of Byzantine theology, especially by way of Archbishop Joseph Raya, Fr Alexander Men, Fr Dimiti Dudko, The Way of a Pilgrim and, above all, Catherine Doherty.  Not only Eastern Orthodox theology, but especially Russian Christianity left a lasting impression on me because I discovered theology not as thinking but as living.

I learned that theology is an encounter with God, with the living God.

This is the essence of the Russian Christian concept of sobornost--the "unity of mind, heart and soul" that Catherine so masterfully explained in her classic book by the same name.

Latin Christianity, especially since the High Scholastic period but even more so from the seventeenth century (cf Yves Congar, History of Theology [Adelaide:  ATF, 2019], 195ff), seemed to be more interested in an arcane, laboratory approach to doctrine, one that still infects theology and catechesis to this day.  (Even the great Russian Orthodox theologian, Fr Michael Pomazansky, in his Orthodox Dogmatic Theology, criticises this "Latin" tendency--all the while doing it himself!)

That was back in the mid-1990s.  In the early 2000s, when I was studying graduate theology with the Dominicans in Berkeley, I had the grace of serving as acolyte at the Russian Catholic parish in San Francisco, especially during the Fridays of Lent.  Since my research was taken up with the Cappadocian Fathers' approach to the Trinity, participating in the Divine Liturgy from behind the iconostasis was very much like overhearing the Council of Chalcedon; it was then, especially, when theology became prayer.

St Thomas Aquinas and Sacra doctrina

Many people--especially those who have not read him but are eager to parrot "modern" ideas--accuse the Angelic Doctor of being guilty of bombastic obscurationism, projecting a later, more decadent form of scholasticism on his writings.  What is often forgotten that St Thomas Aquinas wrote his Summa theologiae out of a certain impatience with the way theology was being done in his day--

We have considered that novices in this doctrine have often been hampered by what they have found written by various authors, partly on account of the multiplication of useless questions, articles, and arguments; partly also because the things such novices need to know are not taught according to the order of the discipline, but according as was needed for commenting on books, or according as an opportunity for raising a disputed question presented itself; partly, too, because frequent repetition of the same things brought weariness and confusion to the minds of the readers.

 Endeavoring to avoid these and other like faults, we shall try, trusting in God’s help, to set forth whatever belongs to Sacred Doctrine as briefly and clearly as the matter itself may allow.

This he wrote at the very outset of his Summa theologiae, in the "Prologue."

The "multiplication of useless questions" and the "weariness and confusion in the minds of the readers" exhibits something deeper:  Not just an itch for appearing educated and obtuse, but also letting on a nearly-empty spiritual life.  It is not without reason that St Paul wrote "knowledge puffs up" (1 Cor 8:1).  One need only to look at his simpler Compendium theologiae or his Eucharistic hymns to see a man of profound spirituality.  Who would not be moved by his prayer Adoro Te, devote?  Fr Jean-Pierre Torell OP has written substantially of St Thomas' interior life (cf Saint Thomas Aquinas, vol 2:  Spiritual Master [Washington, D.C.:  Catholic University of America Press, 2003]; Christ and Spirituality in Thomas Aquinas [Washington, D.C.:  Catholic University of America Press, 2011]).  Fr Paul Murray's Aquinas at Prayer:  The Bible, Mysticism, and Poetry (London:  Bloomsbury Continuum, 2013) has also done a master job of unpacking St Thomas' mysticism.

The relationship between theology and faith was articulated very clearly in many places throughout Thomas' writings, when he explains that the object of "faith" are not the "Articles of Faith" (what we would today call "dogmas") but to the reality they point towards.  To say, for example, "I believe...in Jesus Christ" is not to mean that one believes in a grammatical construct, but to the reality standing behind it.

Not only that, but the theological virtues of faith and charity are infused together when one becomes a Christian; faith is in the intellect and charity is in the will, with the intellect and will constituting an intimate symbiosis in the rational soul.  One believes in God, and in believing, loves him; in loving God, one desires to know him more, and so faith is increased; with increased faith comes a more ardent love, and so on.  This is the very principle of spiritual growth.

For a theologian to accumulate dogmatic facts but to be static in love is to cleave the intellect and will, thus introducing a deformity in his or her rational soul because God designed it in such a way that there would be an interplay between the two.

The remedy to this, again, is the Sevenfold Gift, in which Wisdom, the highest gift, resides in the will to buttress charity, but not without being led thereto by Understanding and Knowledge in the intellect to buttress faith.  This is why, I am convinced, that the Second Part of the Summa theologiae is so important:  Its structure of integrating virtues and gifts serves not only to bridge "God and Creation" to "Christ and the Sacraments," but more precisely to provide a roadmap for digesting dogma.

Dogma as Analogy of the Liturgy

Recall that, at the Mass of Christmas, we sing not of Christ who 'was' born but of Christ who is born, as if we were in Bethlehem.  Recall, too, that at the Mass of Easter, we sing not of Christ who 'was raised' but of Christ who is risen--now, today, at this very moment.  This is the Anamnesis principle of the Sacred Liturgy, following the Jewish understanding of time:  We don't recall events; they recall us.  As we proclaim Scripture, we are contemporaneous with the events written; as we celebrate the Eucharist, we are at the foot of the Cross.  The Lord's Day is a perennial Easter.

Dogma is like that.  In believing this or that dogma, we are not merely cogitating facts; we are speaking of what is happening to us, right here, right now.

In believing "in God the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth," I acknowledge that my very existence owes to God keeping the universe in existence by his active power:  "In him we live and move and have our being" (Acts 17:28) and that he is my Father (cf Rom 8:15; Gal 4:6).  When I say, "I believe in Jesus Christ...who was incarnate..." I do not simply articulate an historical fact but, rather, declare that He took upon Himself my creatureliness in order that I may be divinized.  When I say "and His Kingdom will have no end," I am saying that the Heavenly Kingdom exists right underneath my feet and every place I leave behind, because my vocation is to advance the Lordship of Jesus Christ.  I am His co-king! (cf 1 Cor 5:8, 6:3.)

In essence, the dogmatic canons of the Church articulate not only "facts" but declare those very graces empowering our Christian lives--yours and mine.  The dogmas say something about you and me.  It's not about what happened but about what is happening.

Overcoming a Spiritually Dangerous Dichotomy

Unlike Byzantine Christianity, Latin-rite Catholics have a terrible tendency to get liturgy "over with" as quickly as possible ("no more than an hour!") and to dumb down the richness of the celebration (when have we been to a Paschal Vigil that was actually a vigil?).  The lazy approach to liturgy, I am convinced, owes to the spiritual deformity I mentioned earlier--of cleaving intellect and will in the rational soul.  One can devalue dogma in two ways--by over-intellectualizing it, thus becoming "brains on sticks" (to use the famous expression of Fr Martin Farrell OP) in which case the palpability of the liturgy is reduced to verbosity, or by under-intellectualizing it, in which case the liturgy is becomes something of a glorified Oprah Winfrey Show where feelings are assuaged.

In case I'm being insufficiently blunt:  To say that "dogma" isn't "pastoral" is to know little of both theological dogmatics and pastoral praxis.

When the dogmas of faith are integrated as grace, they become celebratory, and that is the very reason we celebrate the mysteries of Christ's life throughout the liturgical year--because He revealed the Father (cf Jn 1:16, 14:0-11) during the course of His life, which we re-live in the liturgy.

In fact, the sacred liturgy is dogma in dance.

This post is dedicated to my staritsa and spiritual mother
Theresa Marsey of the Madonna House Apostolate
in gratitude for her lasting influence in my Christian life.