Doctrinal vs. Pastoral
Dec 24, 2024 | 784 words | Religious Politics
If you style yourself a secularist who shuns organized religion, you may not have a rooting interest in the great debate that rages within sectarian circles: whether it is better to be doctrinally pure, or pastorally sensitive. From what I can gather this is an active source of tension in most every faith tradition.
It boils down to that age-old choice management types and administrators have had to make in trying to maintain order up and down the ranks – stick to the letter of the law and let the chips fall where they may, or step back occasionally to suss out what might be called the spirit of the law, in an attempt to ameliorate certain controversial situations in a somewhat less severe manner.
The wisest men and women among us, some of whom we have come to identify as saints or mystics, find a way to do both simultaneously. Or come as close as possible to doing both, given the constraints of our intrinsically flawed human nature.
(King Solomon in the Old Testament being one historical example of wisdom-in-action that springs to mind.)
In the Catholic tradition, which is the one I have signed onto, we have come to set up this doctrinal/pastoral dichotomy up as a stark contrast between “teaching the faith” and “preaching the Gospel,” and we indulge in a parlor game of grading our Popes on this adversarial curve.
But how can you teach the faith if you are not also preaching the Gospel? And how can you preach the Gospel without teaching the faith?
The late Pope Benedict is viewed as an exemplary teacher of the faith by those who admire what they take to be his doctrinal integrity, while being found somewhat lacking in pastoral skills by others who say they appreciate a more nuanced approach.
Pope Francis, who at first glance gives the impression of specializing in being pastoral, drives those who held Benedict in high esteem up a wall. Commentators I respect have gone on record as saying “Francis will be judged by history as having failed to teach the faith,” an assessment I find to be utterly preposterous.
There are many ways to be authentically Catholic, just as I imagine there are probably many ways to practice any faith tradition. As a Christian, I follow a God-made-man of many moods and colors, who chased the money lenders from the Temple in what comes across as a fit of pique, but who also unfurled the gentle Beatitudes to an attentive crowd gathered on a grassy hillside.
His admirers see Benedict as ardently chasing the money-lenders, while fans of Francis see him as promulgating the Beatitudes. Is one Pope more-or-less Catholic than the other? Many Catholics today seem to think so.
I loved Benedict, thought he was plenty pastoral in what he wrote, and felt he got a bad rap as a hard-ass and a doctrinal Nazi.
I love Francis, think he is doctrinally sound in what he writes, and feel he has been written off as a “loose cannon” by different people for different reasons. Some don’t appreciate his non-stop reference to Third World realities, and see in those references an unapologetic critique of our comfortable First World sensibilities.
Others consider themselves strict originalists who believe the Ten Commandments and all other Church teaching need only be applied in a consistent manner, with no interpretation required. This belies the fact this teaching has been undergoing unrestrained development for over two thousand years.
Some see the great threat of the present moment as one of acquiescence, with Francis guilty of the unforgivable sin of fudging unalterable doctrine to suit the times. Such a concept is anathema to “trad” Catholics (and to me, too, by the way), and they deplore a wishy-washy implementation of Church teaching.
But I see the present moment as part of a larger, much richer and more diverse tapestry. For me the big picture comes into focus when we acknowledge our human nature as intrinsically flawed, which means our understanding of what Christ was trying to tell us in the first place, two thousand years ago, is always going to require continual refinement.
I wish we could all get past what strikes me as a false dichotomy of either fearfully clinging to tradition or bravely embracing progress. We don’t automatically know better than our religious ancestors and therefore should not be too be quick to change course, just because we are here now and boast the best of intentions.
But let’s also realize those ancestors didn’t necessarily get everything right, either, even though they may have been trying their darndest to do so, and no doubt believed the angels were on their side.
Robert J. Cavanaugh, Jr.
bobcavjr@gmail.com