"Mom, how come we have to go to Mass? The priest and the music are so boring most of the time. Why can't I just pray to God in my heart? Isn't that better than daydreaming through Mass?"
How many parents have heard a similar refrain while wrestling with a family of growing children to get them ready for Sunday Eucharist? The best answer to the question actually leads us to the very heart of the meaning of Catholic morality.
Somewhere in the past few centuries, Catholic moral theology deviated from its strong roots and lost sight of its very center. Somewhere along the line, Catholic morality lost it essential connection to Scripture and the virtues (both theological and cardinal). In a nutshell, moral theology was reduced to a form of legalism.
Hints of that reduction echo in the memories of many recent generations of Catholics who were trained in that tradition. It was not too long ago that the Sunday Eucharist, the "source and summit" of our Catholic community, the great Sacrament of the Paschal Mystery, was referred to almost exclusively in both Catholic schools and Saturday catechetical programs as "our Sunday obligation."
And if referring to one of God's greatest gifts to the Church as an "obligation" was not enough, that "obligation" underwent further legal analysis and dissection to the point that our Sunday obligation was determined to be "fulfilled" as long as we made it to church for the reading of the Gospel and stayed until Communion. The penalty for not fulfilling the obligation was mortal sin.
The remnants of this minimalist tradition still rattle the nerves of most pastoral ministers. It is not uncommon for the church both to grow by up to 1/3 between the opening hymn and the Gloria and to lose 10-30 percent of the same worshipers sometime between the beginning of communion and the dismissal.
Similarly, the Church's desire for all believers to participate in the "source and summit" of the faith was turned into a commandment of the Church to "make one's Easter duty." Sadly, it became so commonplace over the centuries for Catholics to interpret the Sunday obligation as one that could be fulfilled without reception of communion, that Church law had to require reception of communion at least once a year.
Clearly, the moral life was being more and more defined by obligations and duties, which then gave the erroneous but very common impression that the moral life and the juridical life were one.
At the same time, this conflation of legal language and the moral life was further enhanced in seminaries where up to the middle of the 20th century it was not infrequent that the moral theology courses were taught by canon lawyers. A classic moral textbook --- "A Collection Of Cases In Moral And Pastoral Theology," published in New York in 1910 --- illustrates this fact in its chapter headings which deal with things like, "Replating an Indulgenced Cross" (Ch. XXXIX), "Misuse of General Confession by Penitents of the Female Sex" (Ch XLIV), and "Blessing the Easter Water on Holy Saturday" (Ch. XVIII). The preface of the text assures us that "the present edition will be found to conform in all points to the new canon law."
Does anyone really believe that there are serious moral issues surrounding the replating of a religious article? Serious enough to deserve a whole chapter in a moral textbook? Liturgical rubrics, Church laws and the moral life too often were treated as if they all carried the same weight and frequently, if not always, were taught from a juridical point of view.
Complementary disciplines
The point here is certainly not to disparage the importance of canon law or liturgical rubrics to the pastoral mission of the Church, but to point out that canon law, liturgical rubrics and moral theology are different disciplines that are complementary, not identical.
Also, the point is not to remove sin from the lives of disciples. The point is to make clear that genuine moral growth in the life of the disciple is hardly possible when morality and our relationship to Christ is reduced to only juridical or rubrical understandings.
In the end, true growth in the moral life is absolutely dependent on growth in one's spiritual life. And the clear external manifestation of this growth is never found when one shrug's off the "obligations" of Christian discipleship, but rather when one picks up those obligations in freedom and joy and transforms them from "have to's" to "want to's."
The goal of catechesis, like the goal of the spiritual life, of moral discipleship itself, is to celebrate a rich relationship with Christ, expressed in a profound "yes" to the Gospel call to "repent and believe in the Good News," which is grounded in authentic freedom. As we grow in our faith we hope to find ourselves moving from a morality of obligation, a relationship of obligation, to one of desire.
A true discipleship does not "bind" us to laws but "frees" us to embrace a life of virtue. We no longer "have" to be virtuous, we "want" to be virtuous. Chastity, honesty and justice are no longer what we "have" to do; instead we "want" to be chaste, honest and just. God's grace perfects us.
We become persons who desire the Eucharist, hunger for it, feel empty without the nurturing found in frequent personal prayer, who are joyful in being good and holy people. We gradually become persons of integrity and character who witness to our faith by our lived discipleship. We become holy, we become sanctified. Our faith is manifested in the way we live, in our words and actions --- all of which flows from freedom to respond joyfully in a "yes" to God as modeled so profoundly for us in Mary's response to the angel Gabriel.
The Dominican moralist, Servais Pinckaers, has spent his lifetime trying to convince Catholic theologians that moral theology lost its compass in the 14th century when it was divorced from happiness. He suggests that since the 14th century the juridical and minimalist nature of moral theology has often left Catholics with the impression that the moral life was more of a burden than a joy.
This tradition is still heard in the question of young people who ask, "How far can I go on a date before it's a mortal sin?" The moral life was the "narrow door," the uphill battle that limited personal freedom and left little time for happiness or was even antithetical to happiness. The ascetical life came to be taught and pictured as if the road to sainthood was trod only by pinched and dour women and men.
Perhaps the high point of this theology and spirituality of obligation is found in the person of Jansenius, the fabled 17th century Bishop of Ypres and heretic associated with the University of Louvain in Belgium, whose theology convinced generations of their unworthiness to approach the communion table. The fact that St. Thomas included a treatise on happiness was something not alluded to in most moral texts after the 14th century.
The truth is that the authentic moral life, a life of virtue (justice, courage, temperance and prudence) is the only real path to happiness. Ask recovering addicts about whether they were truly happier in their life before embracing temperance or after. What greater gift can we give to those we are evangelizing and catechizing than to help them find bona fide happiness in life?
True fidelity in marriage is not found when someone is faithful only because they are afraid of being found out, or caught in their infidelity, just as authentic chastity is not simply abstinence based on fear of pregnancy or of contracting a disease. No, fidelity and chastity, like justice, honesty and the entire virtuous life is found not in what is done out of obligation but in the deep conviction that true happiness flows from freely choosing Christ and the truly good via a life of virtue.
This is expressed so beautifully in the Latin title of Vatican II's "Constitution on the Church in the Modern World," Gaudium et Spes (Hope and Joy). The earmarks of the heart of Jesus' mission, evangelization, are hope and joy. How can we bring the "good news" if we do not witness to the "goodness" of the "good" news by living lives of hope and joy. This essential connection between our faith and happiness, and thus between our moral life and happiness, needs to be recovered. We need to move our vision of the moral life from that of burden, obligation and law to one of a joyful embrace of authentic discipleship.
God made us for happiness. Again, we need to be reminded that St. Thomas was insistent that the beatitudes, not the Ten Commandments, are the very heart of Jesus' moral teaching.
The lie of sin is that it leads to happiness and true freedom. The reality is that anyone who chooses abortion, casual sex, substance abuse, racism, torturing of prisoners or prosecuting an unjust war never finds either happiness or freedom. Sin is slavery to selfishness and idolatry. Does anyone ever feel fulfilled after choosing sin? No; sin inevitably brings shame and sadness. Only the virtues can truly offer happiness.
The desire to worship in joy and hope
Responding then, to the question from the youngster that began our inquiry, we can say that the ultimate goal of the Catholic community on Sunday is not that it "fulfills its Sunday obligation," but rather that it hungers for the Eucharist and desires to worship God in joy and hope.
This is not something, like the moral life in general, that happens automatically in our lives. Rather, it is most often, even when begun in a moment of profound conversion, worked out gradually over a life time. But the fact that it can and does happen is evidenced to by the "communion of saints" that we exalt in our prayer, our litanies and our art.
The saints ultimately are marked with happiness; they could not by definition be "crabby" people. Why? Because a saint lives and dies with a profound faith that is expressed in a joy that radiates a hope that they will surely share in eternal life with God. The moral life, for saints, surely can not be a burden but is an experience of joy.
For the Church --- recovering a moral theology and a moral catechesis that recovers the tradition of St. Thomas --- that happiness is synonymous with a virtuous life is one of the most laudable and essential goals for Catholic discipleship as we move into the 21st century.
We cannot bring the good news to the world unless our lives are marked with the kind of smile that expresses an authentic inner joy and contentment that cannot be displaced. That kind of happiness is found when our interior life in the Spirit is wedded to our desire to be good persons, persons of faith and virtue.
We are called to learn to love the Eucharist, love the Sacramental life, love a life of prayer and love the authentically moral life. In the end, happiness is the preeminent measure of spiritual and moral growth. Vincentian Father Richard Benson is academic dean and professor of moral theology at St. John's Seminary, Camarillo. His column appears monthly in The Tidings. |