The Faith of Our Fathers: Obedience and Love.
By John Heard
There is little of any value in change for the sake of change, and much that can be oppressive. That is the summary, the crude summary, of a noble tradition in Western (and, often, specifically English-speaking) thought.
That tradition is, depending on the prism through which it is viewed, variously termed orthodoxy, conservatism, common sense, and / or simply culture, and it aligns with notions such as the rule of law, precedent, natural justice and constitutionalism in legal thinking, and prudence, temperance, and diligence in the language of virtue ethics.
There are probably other terms and ideas that fit here, including some of the better sorts of urges typically grouped under the banner of progressive politics, but it will not help to list them all. It is enough to gesture towards some of the most impressive titles, to discern underneath something of real value for our civilization.
In Catholic circles, tradition is superlative, but there is less of a stress on politics, and more of a sense of obedience and an acknowledgment of love. The deposit of faith, the core of Christian religion, cannot change. A good Christian serves the faith, he does not seek to undermine, or subvert it – certainly not in the pursuit of his extra-curricular interests and ambitions. The faith endures, from age to age, and it does so because of the love of God. That the faith professed, defined, and defended by the Church will be the one true faith is, after all, the unique and outstanding guarantee of the Holy Spirit.
Thus, when a bishop, say, defends some teaching that has fallen into momentary disrepute, he stands with the entire Church – understood as both the timeless communion of saints and the intimately historical people of God – including at any given time, those people who form the bishop’s flock.
Similarly, when we pray as Catholics, we utter the words that countless Christians have used over more than two millennia. Further, during the holy sacrifice of the Mass, certain words and prayers – Amen, Alleluia, Hosanna alongside the prayers over the bread and wine, for instance – come to us from the Jews. These are ancient in a way that stretches human understanding. It is not wrong to state that, as long as there have been things such as history and religion and language and law, men have used such as these to praise and implore the one true God.
So what happens to creativity? Isn’t this way of thinking about faith necessarily restrictive? Certainly, one of the most powerful critiques of this tradition of tradition is that it can quickly lead to stagnation, on the one hand, stifling creativity and stamping out any nascent growth. On the other hand, critics claim, a community wedded to tradition risks glorifying nonsense, simply because it is old. Some of the criticism leveled at the usus antiquior of the Roman Rite comes packaged in this language.
It helps to recall, then, that tradition is – in the Catholic context – only one of the pillars upon which the faith endures. The other two are revelation, which is made up of God’s holy Word and His deeds in human history, and the magisterium – helpfully understood as the teaching authority of the bishops (with the pope).
These ensure that while the faith cannot change, human understanding of things that are, in fact, ineffable and mysterious, can develop.
In terms of revelation, the process is most obvious. One must pay homage to the teachings of the past, but not simply because they are ancient, rather because they are known to be of God. Christians strive to understand what it is that God is saying to man, and that understanding can develop.
From the earliest days of the Church, for instance, Christians have come together to understand better Christ’s nature (true God and true man), the privileges and prizes of the Blessed Virgin Mary (the theotokos, the Mother of God), and to regulate and improve ritual worship (the reforms of Trent and the Second Vatican Council are epitomic in this sphere).
The teaching authority of the bishops, always with the pope, is obvious to Christianity in a different way. If the Church is of God, as Catholics have been promised and profess her to be, her true ministers must do God’s work. They must preach His Word.
These ideas of the faith, understood under the terms Tradition, Revelation, and Magisterium are, then, organic, unified – and they are coherent. Each of the concepts works happily alongside the others. Combined, they express something unique, and enduring about Catholicism. They express, indeed, what it is that makes Christians able to claim that the faith we profess today is, in all important things, the faith taught by the Christ. That it is the faith imparted to man by God throughout history.
What a remarkable thing, our faith. When we get obedience right, faith is love mirrored and repaid.