Trent Does Not Contradict Orange

I recently stumbled across a page on a Protestant website that purports to demonstrate contradictions between the Council of Trent and the second Council of Orange. It attempts this by comparing the canons of Trent on Justification to those of Orange. My purpose here is to show that the demonstration fails, and that Trent does not contradict Orange.

Before we go too far, though, a few things should be said. First and foremost, the Second Council of Orange was not an ecumenical council. Trent was. Consequently it is possible in principle for two such councils to actually contradict, but if that happens it is the non-ecumenical council which is in error. The Church does not claim that non-ecumenical councils as such have any charism for infallibility as may be exercised by the ecumenical councils. Now, we’ll find (as I intend to show) that Trent doesn’t actually contradict Orange, but the point I wish to affirm from the beginning is that such a contradiction—if it actually existed—would not stand as ipso facto proof that the Church’s claims are false. In this case, though, Orange’s acts were formally approved by the Pope, and consequently “enjoy ecumenical authority” (source).

Secondly, it should be pointed out that the comparison ignores the actual teaching of Trent on justification, focusing instead upon the canons. This is a mistake because canons do not in themselves have dogmatic force. Rather, they are a disciplinary measure that are founded upon the dogmas of the Council, and constitute a disciplinary expression of the dogmas. The point is that if you really want to know what Trent taught about justification, you need to look at the Decree on Justification rather than at the canons. It is disappointing that the author of the comparison did not do this. Certainly it is not because he was unable to find them; the very page he used as a source for his comparison for the canons also contains the Decree on Justification, and he had to scroll past the Decree in order to find the canons.
Thirdly, it’s interesting to me that there are thirty-three canons on justification, but the Protestant critic of Trent alleges contradictions with Orange related to just three of those canons. So I’m inclined to wonder: is this the worst that you can come up with?

Lastly, for the sake of stifling completeness, I’ve already written quite a few posts on the subject of Trent’s teaching on justification. It is abundantly clear that Trent taught nothing like what is charged by our Protestant accuser.
The three canons we’ll be looking at are 4, 5, and 11.
Canon 4:

If any one saith, that man’s free will moved and excited by God, by assenting to God exciting and calling, nowise co-operates towards disposing and preparing itself for obtaining the grace of Justification; that it cannot refuse its consent, if it would, but that, as something inanimate, it does nothing whatever and is merely passive; let him be anathema.

The text from Orange that canon 4 is alleged to contradict, including the emphasis that was added by our Protestant critic:

If anyone says that not only the increase of faith but also its beginning and the very desire for faith, by which we believe in Him who justifies the ungodly … belongs to us by nature and not by a gift of grace, that is, by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit amending our will and turning it from unbelief to faith and from godlessness to godliness, it is proof that he is opposed to the teaching of the Apostles, for blessed Paul says, “And I am sure that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ” (Phil. 1:6). And again, “For by grace you have been saved through faith; and this is not your own doing, it is the gift of God” (Eph. 2:8)

It seems that the emphasized portions are intended to show us where the contradiction is, so that we are to infer that canon 4 (and consequently Trent) denies that the beginning of faith, the desire for it, and the increase of faith are all a gift of grace. The problem with this alleged contradiction is that it doesn’t exist. Look at the second clause of Canon 4: “that man’s free will moved and excited by God…” The canon’s not saying that we don’t need grace; on the contrary, it’s saying that we absolutely need it, because it’s talking about a man whose free will has been moved by God first. How did our Protestant accuser miss this? I don’t know. If I had to guess, I’d say that he missed it because he holds to a false view of free will: namely, I’d guess that he probably supposes that unbelievers (at the least) don’t have free will. This view is an error, because (as St Augustine rightly taught) “punishment would be unjust if man did not have free will.” But free will doesn’t imply the ability to do just anything, and among other things it must be moved by God (as canon 4 says) before it can assent to God’s call.

So much for the criticisms of canon 4. Here is canon 5:

If any one saith, that, since Adam’s sin, the free will of man is lost and extinguished; or, that it is a thing with only a name, yea a name without a reality, a figment, in fine, introduced into the Church by Satan; let him be anathema.

And the corresponding criticism from the Protestant page, with its original emphasis:

If anyone maintains that some are able to come to the grace of baptism by mercy but others through free will, which has manifestly been corrupted in all those who have been born after the transgression of the first man, it is proof that he has no place in the true faith. For he denies that the free will of all men has been weakened through the sin of the first man, or at least holds that it has been affected in such a way that they have still the ability to seek the mystery of eternal salvation by themselves without the revelation of God. The Lord himself shows how contradictory this is by declaring that no one is able to come to him “unless the Father who sent me draws him” (John 6:44), as he also says to Peter, “Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jona! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven” (Matt. 16:17), and as the Apostle says, “No one can say ‘Jesus is Lord’ except by the Holy Spirit” (1 Cor. 12:3).

Once again, there is no contradiction here. Canon 5 of Trent condemns those who deny that man has free will, and Orange says not that free will has been lost, but that it has been corrupted. Our critic further claims (from what he has emphasized from Orange) that canon 5 contradicts Orange’s insistence that grace is necessary. But this too is absurd, as my series of posts about Trent make inescapably clear (but we’re going to briefly review some of these facts here anyway, in a little while).

Here is canon 11 from Trent:

If any one saith, that men are justified, either by the sole imputation of the justice of Christ, or by the sole remission of sins, to the exclusion of the grace and the charity which is poured forth in their hearts by the Holy Ghost, and is inherent in them; or even that the grace, whereby we are justified, is only the favour of God; let him be anathema.

Our Protestant critic doesn’t quote Orange here; instead, he offers this commentary:

[Note: this says if the “the grace, whereby we are justified, is ONLY the favour of God; let him be anathema.” In Other her words, RCC outright rejects SOLA GRATIA - salvation by grace alone in Christ alone, thereby anathematizing both Augustine and their own early church council.]

It appears that our Critic has unfortunately misunderstood the canon, and has arrived at preposterous conclusions as a result. With respect to what grace is, canon 11 is denying the Protestant error that grace is neither more nor less than God’s favor. The point of the canon is that there is more to God’s grace than His mere favor, and that those who say otherwise have in this respect departed from the Catholic Faith. It is certainly not saying there is anything non-divine in grace. I hope that I’m misunderstanding this gentleman, but based upon what he writes here, it seems as though he really thinks that canon 11 is endorsing a view of grace that includes something from outside of God. This is egregiously mistaken. For starters, the first half of the canon is explicitly insisting upon the fact that “the grace and charity poured forth in their hearts by the Holy Ghost” are essential constituents of justification, and obviously (since they are poured forth by the Holy Spirit) they are solely and exclusively from God, as I have already pointed out in a previous post on canon 11. So how this can in any way be described as a denial of salvation by grace alone is beyond my powers to comprehend. It’s just crazy talk.

At this point it’s probably a good idea to review the Decree on Justification on a few points related to these canons, because the Decree is the essential context for properly understanding what the Fathers of Trent meant by the canons. But before we do that it might be a good idea to have the Decree on Original Sin firmly in the back of our minds, not least because they explicitly refer to it themselves. Here’s my post on the subject. Among other things, they say:

If any one asserts, that this sin of Adam,--which in its origin is one, and being transfused into all by propagation, not by imitation, is in each one as his own, --is taken away either by the powers of human nature, or by any other remedy than the merit of the one mediator, our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath reconciled us to God in his own blood, made unto us justice, sanctification, and redemption; or if he denies that the said merit of Jesus Christ is applied, both to adults and to infants, by the sacrament of baptism rightly administered in the form of the church; let him be anathema [Decree on Original Sin, §3; emphasis added].

Back to the Decree on Justification. In Chapter I, they declare:

not the Gentiles only by the force of nature, but not even the Jews by the very letter itself of the law of Moses, were able to be liberated, or to arise, [from sin]; although free will, attenuated as it was in its powers, and bent down, was by no means extinguished in them.

See my post on this chapter here.

Chapter II describes what God did on our behalf in view of the circumstances adumbrated in Chapter I: that is, because we cannot justify ourselves, He sent His Son to save us. My post on this is here.

Chapter V is the next chapter relevant for the present discussion. It declares that justification begins with the grace of God, “without any merits existing [on the part of man].” My post on this is here.

In my opinion the heart of the Decree is chapter VII, because in it the Fathers declare what the causes of our justification are. Here is my post on the subject. Executive summary: none of the causes of our justification enumerated by Trent is something that man does, as though he can justify himself.

Trent doesn’t contradict Second Orange.

Iconoclasm

Pelikan's chapter on the Iconoclast controversy (in vol. 2 of The Christian Tradition) is well worth reading, and the one or two snippets that will find their way into posts here really won't suffice. Get the book and read the whole thing. Seriously.

One immediate and superficial observation about what we may learn from the controversy, at least with respect to those today who fling charges of idolatry at Catholics and Orthodox over images, is to say, "been there, done that, got the conciliar endorsement." In short, I've never heard an argument against images today that wasn't already advanced and addressed over a millennium ago. It's nothing new. Unfortunately there must be more to our answer to the modern despisers of images than simply appealing to an ecumenical council, since (on average) the modern iconoclast sympathizer will not be interested in what councils have to say when they differ from his own theological tradition's views.

(As a fascinating aside, the old Catholic Encyclopedia reports that the Iconoclast controversy began with Nestorians managing to persuade Leo the Isaurian to start persecuting iconophiles. Once again we see Nestorians afoot; once again we are reminded that some Protestants have been charged with Nestorianism.)

One thing Pelikan reports strikes me as interesting in view of other facts.

Constantine V [asserted] that a genuine image was 'identical in essence with that which it portrays.' The term used here, 'identical in essence [homoousious],' came from the trinitarian language of orthodox dogma...This definition of the relation between the image and the thing or person imaged, which 'undoubtedly was characteristic not only of Constantine but of all the leading minds of iconoclasm,' meant that an image of Christ being used in worship was in fact the 'falsely so-called image of Christ,' since it obviously could not be 'identical in essence' with the person of Jesus Christ himself; not even the most vigorous defenders of the images maintained that it was. The very definition of a true image necessarily implied for the iconoclasts that no painting or statue could ever be an image of Christ. [p. 109]

This reminds me of something that we moderns find hard to imagine but which, apparently, was literally true. I'm having trouble locating the reference, but I think that it was in the works of Justin Martyr. As I recall, he pointed out that the idolaters of old really did consider their idols - works of wood and stone - to be literal gods. It wasn't just a question of them thinking that the idol represented the god; it was that the idol was itself the god. I was pretty shocked by this, but really it makes complete sense with Isaiah 44:13-19!

The wood carver takes his measurements, outlines the image with chalk, carves it with chisels, following the outline with dividers. He shapes it to human proportions, and gives it a human face, for it to live in a temple. He cut down a cedar, or else a cypress or an oak which he selected from the trees in the forest, or maybe he planted a cedar and the rain made it grow. For the common man it is so much fuel; he uses it to warm himself, he also burns it to bake his bread. But this fellow makes a god of it and worships it; he makes an idol of it and bows down before it. Half of it he burns in the fire, on the live embers he roasts meat, eats it and is replete. He warms himself too. "Ah!" says he "I am warm; I have a fire here!" With the rest he makes his god, his idol; he bows down before it and worships it and prays to it. "Save me," he says "because you are my god."

They know nothing, understand nothing. Their eyes are shut to all seeing, their heart to all reason. They never think, they lack the knowledge and wit to say, "I burned half of it on the fire, I backed bread on the live embers, I roasted meat and ate it, and am I to make some abomination of what remains? Am I to bow down before a block of wood?" [JB]

This passage makes no sense unless that wood carver literally believed that his block of wood was his god: not just a representation of it, but really his god. Why else does Isaiah say that such a man has shut his heart to all reason? Does such a thing make any sense? Of course not. But this is apparently what they literally did. And this is consistent, it seems, with what the iconoclasts' idea of an image was, as seen in the quotation from Pelikan above. Now the only problem with this, when it comes to the Catholic view of images, is that no Catholic says any such thing about an image of Christ or the saints.

This is why, for one thing, it cannot be said that Catholics violate the first commandment. When we do not worship images; we do not serve them. What we pray before a statue or icon is directed not to the stone or paint, but to the Lord represented there, or to the saint represented there. The first commandment is not concerned with such things, but rather with the literal worship of the literal image.

The modern iconoclast has a problem, it seems to me. He would have us believe that any veneration before an image - whether by an idolater literally worshipping the stone, or by a Catholic offering veneration to the one represented in the image - is idolatry. Well, how then could such a man offer veneration to a king or emperor? It is beyond all argument that men in all ages have rightly and necessarily and justifiably knelt in veneration of their rulers and other betters. If it is a sin to venerate him who is represented in an icon, would it be any less a sin (on this reckoning) to venerate a mere man?

There is no sin intrinsic to the use of images and statues. A mere appeal to Exodus 20 is insufficient to say otherwise. Historical context demonstrates clearly what is forbidden in the first commandment, and it is not praying to God or the saints while kneeling before an icon.

The Holy Trinity and Human Nature

A couple days ago I mentioned an upcoming post concerning dogma and how we think about other things. I think this is an interesting example of what I was talking about in that post.

Pelikan writes (p. 72):

This clarification and expansion of Chalcedon in the direction of teaching two wills and two actions ... took its start from the doctrine of the Trinity, clarifying its christological terminology on the basis of trinitarian usage. In the Trinity there were three hypostases, but only one divine nature; otherwise there would be three gods. There was also a single will and a single action. Thus will was an attribute of a nature and not of a hypostasis, natural and not hypostatic. Hence the person of Christ, with a single hypostasis and two natures, had to have two wills, one for each nature. [emphasis added]

Although it might seem to us - if we think carelessly about the question and ignore the implications of christology described by Pelikan - that a will is something I have by virtue of being a person - an individual hypostasis - we see that the consequences of such thinking fall afoul of what is actually true. In the case of Christ, it would mean that - since he was a divine person with two natures - he had a single will (the divine one); or, if that were to be unacceptable to us, we might go the Nestorian route and insist that in Christ a divine and human person - two hypostases - were united, because Christ clearly had a human will.

But both of these conclusions are false. So we see that what we believe about God and Christ has profound implications for what we believe about ourselves. Likewise what we believe about ourselves may affect how we think about the Incarnation and the Godhead. It is important that we get the feedback cycle right here. Dogmas about the Incarnation and the Godhead are absolutely true because they are divinely revealed. We reject them at our peril. Given a conflict between dogma and our own ideas, we necessarily must conclude that it is our ideas that are wrong rather than the reverse.

Obviously it is not easy sometimes for us to reach that conclusion. On such occasions, we must take refuge in the virtue of humility.

Object Lesson - John 2.19 and the Nestorians

Recently I have appealed repeatedly to CCC §113 as a necessity when we interpret the Bible:

Read the Scripture within "the living Tradition of the whole Church."

Here's another good example. In volume 2 of The Christian Tradition, Pelikan writes that John 2:19

was in many ways the key passage in the Nestorian definition of the nature of the union between divine and human in Christ. ... [T]he leading Nestorian theologian of the seventh century declared: 'Thus we adore God in the temple of his humanity, because he dwells in it as in a temple, united with it eternally' (p. 40).

So how, solely on the basis of sola scriptura, is such an interpretation going to be upended? Why was that man wrong in making that verse a keystone of his theology - in thinking that this saying of Jesus was entirely clear and worthy to use in interpreting the rest of the Bible?

It can't be done. As I said, unless we accept the trinitarian formulations of Nicaea and the Christological formulations of later councils, all of which form a crucial part of the Tradition of the Church, and unless we read the Bible with this Tradition in mind, and interpret it according to this Tradition, we have no basis for saying that the Nestorians were wrong. It's just our opinion against theirs.

Baptists can do this - because they accept those trinitarian/christological formulas. So can Presbyterians and Lutherans and Methodists. But it's silly to say that the Bible alone refutes the Nestorians apart from a tradition of interpretation. We can only say that it emphatically does so because we have accepted the witness of the Church as to the true meaning of the Bible with respect to christology. Sola scriptura is not enough.

What General Councils Do

General (or Ecumenical) Councils are not innovators.

The bishops do not come together in order to think up something new out of their own minds, but in order to be witnesses of the teaching received from Christ and handed out by the Church. [Pesch, Praelectiones Dogmaticae, I:313; quoted in Hughes, A History of the General Councils, p. 17]

They do not make things up. They declare what the Church has always taught. This is not a contradiction of the principle of development of doctrine; it's a necessary part of it. As the Church's understanding grows, it becomes necessary at different times to declare clearly what in the past may perhaps have been less clear.

We can see this, for example, with the first Council of Nicaea. The Fathers assembled there did not invent the doctrine of the Trinity; rather, they formulated a way of declaring what the Church has always taught, in such a way as to distinguish it from error.

It's particularly useful by way of example to point out that the doctrine of the Trinity is by no means indisputably clear in the Bible. That was really part of the problem, because Arius appealed to Scripture in defense of his errors.

Some Protestants will say that by letting Scripture interpret Scripture, the errors of Arius are obvious. But this is special pleading. First we would have to know what portions of the Bible ought to direct our understanding of the Godhead, and that is by no means something that the Bible itself explains. It can only come from the Tradition of the Church.

For example, if Arius appeals to John 14:28 ("...the Father is greater than I"), why should we not agree that this verse is entirely clear? Why do we not let this Scripture guide our interpretation of other passages about the Godhead?

The simple fact is that there is no good reason not to do so if "sola scriptura" is the rule by which we measure things. The Bible doesn't include a key that says which are the "clear" parts and which are the "unclear" ones that must be understood in the light of the "clear" ones, and different men have different conceptions of what is clear and unclear. The only rule that can assist us here is to understand the Bible according to what the Church has always taught - which is exactly what the Fathers did at Nicaea, and what the Church teaches us today.

Read the Scripture within "the living Tradition of the whole Church" (CCC §113).

This is why Nicaea did not innovate. This is how we know that its Trinitarian interpretation of Scripture (inherited by most Protestants) is no novel thing. It was an expression of that living Tradition. This is why Arius was wrong. He interpreted the Bible contrary to the living Tradition.

Scripture, Tradition, and the Magisterium are inseparable. We need them all.

Marks of the True Church

A common definition of the "true church" among Protestants is that it may be identified by three "marks": the preaching of the gospel, the right administration of the sacraments, and the proper exercise of church discipline. Aside from their historical novelty (at least in comparison to the four creedal "notes" of the Church - that it is one, holy, catholic, and apostolic), there are problems with at least some of these "marks" that really seem to make them unsuitable as a means for identifying "a true church."

With regard to the first, it depends first of all on a definition of what exactly the gospel is. The Catholic Church proclaims the gospel faithfully, but the average Protestant might not agree that she does. This fact indicates that this first "mark" is toting baggage that isn't declared up front, for it depends upon an idea of the gospel's content.

The obvious question that comes to mind is, "what is the gospel that a 'true church' proclaims, by which it may be identified as 'true'?" And of course a second question is, "Who says that is the definition of 'gospel' that we must use?" Hence we see that this "mark" reduces to subjectivity, and consequently doesn't seem to be terribly helpful.

The second "mark" doesn't fare much better, unfortunately. A lot is left unsaid, and the devil is in the details, so to speak. At least some Protestants might reject the Catholic Church outright on this "mark" for no other reason than that the Church recognizes seven sacraments (whereas most Protestants say there are only two). Even setting that aside, what qualifies as "right administration" of whatever the sacraments are? Does that allow for multiple baptisms? Does it allow for grape juice? Does it involve particular understandings of the meaning of each sacrament, and if so what are those meanings? It's totally inadequate to appeal to the Bible about this, since Protestant opinion varies wildly. Here too then it appears that this "mark" doesn't really help.

The third "mark" is fraught with similar issues. Who decides what merits the exercise of discipline? Are any "lapses" at all of discipline sufficient to tag a denomination as a "false church," or is there a threshold? If there is a threshold, who says what it is? Does this apply only to denominations, or does it also (or instead? Why? Who says?) apply to specific congregations within denominations?

Who has standing to declare a particular congregation or denomination as a "false church?" Is it just anyone? If not, who is it?

Given these problems, it seems pretty clear that these "marks" aren't really helpful for more than a "rule of thumb" evaluation; even if judgment is passed on their basis by some ecclesial body of some sort, one wonders why anyone not somehow subject to that body would pay any attention to its opinion.

It seems to me that the creedal notes of the Church are a much better way of taking the measure of any group that claims to be "the church," and have the authority of an ecumenical council behind them (really, of several councils, since at least the first few of them ratified the decisions of previous ones by affirming all that prior councils had taught). This doesn't mean that there are no difficulties involved in applying even this definition, but it's not so fraught with difficulties as the "marks".

Still More On Councils

Perhaps the best way to address the so-called "inconvenient" posts on councils that have been composed by Turretinfan is to address the particulars of what Catholics believe about them, because it seems pretty clear for the most part that there's some confusion if he genuinely believes these brief posts to be in any way inconvenient. Along the way we may also be able to dispel the apparent misapprehension he has about Catholic perspectives on Church Councils.

But the college or body of bishops has no authority unless it is understood together with the Roman Pontiff, the successor of Peter as its head. The pope's power of primacy over all, both pastors and faithful, remains whole and intact. In virtue of his office, that is as Vicar of Christ and pastor of the whole Church, the Roman Pontiff has full, supreme and universal power over the Church ... A council is never ecumenical unless it is confirmed or at least accepted as such by the successor of Peter; and it is prerogative of the Roman Pontiff to convoke these councils, to preside over them and to confirm them.[LG 22; emphasis added]

The authority of a council can never be divorced from the the authority of the Pope.

the infallibility promised to the Church is also present in the body of bishops when, together with Peter's successor, they exercise the supreme Magisterium," above all in an Ecumenical Council [CCC §891; emphasis added].

So let's step back and think about some conclusions we may infer from this. First: it is entirely possible for a council to err - but not an Ecumenical Council. No Catholic will find any "comfort," as it has been put, in a non-ecumenical council when it errs (though of course we approve truth wherever it may be found). Is it disappointing when a council errs? Of course it is. It's a tragedy. We may rightly consider it to be a scandal, inasmuch as it may lead Christians into error who do not carefully weigh its pronouncements against the teaching of the Church, or who ignore the warnings of the Magisterium with respect to such a council's errors. But the fact that this may happen is hardly a matter of "inconvenience," if by that is meant some notion that it poses difficulties for Catholic doctrine. It doesn't.

So, for example, when the Council of Constance claimed for itself an authority superior to the Pope's, it erred - and no Catholic is bound by such nonsense (and no such claims were ever approved by a Pope). In fact, as the Catholic Encyclopedia mentions, "From the fourteenth session, in which he convoked the council, it is considered by many with Phillips (Kirchenrecht, I, 256) a legitimate general council," but that which occurred beforehand is invalid; "in a papal consistory (10 March, 1418), Martin V rejected any right of appeal from the Apostolic See to a future council, and asserted the supreme authority of the Roman pontiff as Vicar of Jesus Christ on earth in all questions of Catholic Faith...In particular the famous five articles of the fifth session, establishing the supremacy of the council, never received papal confirmation" (ibid; see also Hughes, The Church in Crisis: A History of the General Councils, 325-1870, pp. 290-305).

Secondly, it's impossible for one Ecumenical Council to contradict another, precisely because Ecumenical Councils enjoy the charism of infallibility by virtue of their union with the Pope, the Vicar of Christ.

It is this Magisterium's task to preserve God's people from deviations and defections and to guarantee them the objective possibility of professing the true faith without error. Thus, the pastoral duty of the Magisterium is aimed at seeing to it that the People of God abides in the truth that liberates. To fulfill this service, Christ endowed the Church's shepherds with the charism of infallibility in matters of faith and morals. the exercise of this charism takes several forms: "The Roman Pontiff, head of the college of bishops, enjoys this infallibility in virtue of his office, when, as supreme pastor and teacher of all the faithful - who confirms his brethren in the faith he proclaims by a definitive act a doctrine pertaining to faith or morals.... the infallibility promised to the Church is also present in the body of bishops when, together with Peter's successor, they exercise the supreme Magisterium," above all in an Ecumenical Council. When the Church through its supreme Magisterium proposes a doctrine "for belief as being divinely revealed," and as the teaching of Christ, the definitions "must be adhered to with the obedience of faith." This infallibility extends as far as the deposit of divine Revelation itself [CCC §890-891]

It ought to be obvious from what I've said that Catholics don't "trust" in councils per se. Rather, our confidence is in the goodness of God, that he will in fact preserve his Church from error by the means he has provided - the gift of infallibility working in the Pope and in the Bishops in communion with him. It's a ridiculous slander to say that our trust is in men. No. Our confidence is in God, and his goodness is expressed in the Church so that we may trust him through her.

More on Councils

Continuing for a while where I left off yesterday/earlier today...

Yet another such post deals again with the Council in Trullo/Quinisext Council. This is supposed to be "inconvenient" because of questions whether it was recognized by the Pope. The Catholic Encyclopedia says that the Church never accepted this council; this would seem to be borne out by the fact that Doctor of the Church St. Bede the Venerable (d. 735) described it as "a reprobate synod" (ibid). Turretinfan suggests that it was "allegedly endorsed" by a few popes, but this seems unlikely given the fact that some of the canons overturn established Catholic practice. Unfortunately (as seems to be his habit with these "council" posts) at least part of the "inconvenience" is that he hasn't documented all of his sources for the material, so it's impossible to say much about it.

At any rate, given that canon law is not a matter of dogma and is certainly subject to revision, there doesn't appear to be any inconvenience here whether this council was ever approved by the popes or not (as seems more likely).

Another inconvenience is supposed to be found in the fact that Vatican I never formally closed. Given the political circumstances (described in the Catholic Encyclopedia article he quotes) it's obviously understandable why it was suspended, but once again I can't think of a reason why the absence of formal closure ought to be regarded as some sort of inconvenience. Does the authority of a council rest in its closure? Or does the validity of the papal recognition it receives only stand upon proper form in its conclusion? Of course not.

More on the way, hopefully...

Observations about Church Councils

Turretinfan has been running a series of posts in which he pulls chunks out of various councils that he seems to think present problems for Catholics and/or Orthodox. Let's take a look at some of these.

The most recent (as of this writing) such post is about Constantinople in 754. Right out of the box the first observation I have is that it is not reckoned an ecumenical council by Catholics, and consequently it may (and certainly did) err. So if there is something "inconvenient" about C-754, it wouldn't be for Catholics. This was an iconoclast council, rejected by Catholics and by Orthodox alike. Secondly, Turretinfan suggests that the snippet he quotes (oddly enough, without any documentation, which is out of character for him) contradicts the doctrine of Transubstantiation. Now such a thing wouldn't particularly surprise me, given that it was an Iconoclast council to start with; what's one more error in the heap? But the peculiar thing is that his quotation includes this, said about the bread:

...this figure of the body of Christ, the bread, is made divine by the descent of the Holy Spirit; it becomes the divine body of Christ by the mediation of the priest who, separating the oblation from that which is common, sanctifies it [emphasis added].

So where is the denial of Transubstantiation in this sentence? To the contrary, it's an explicit affirmation of it.

So I don't know what is supposed to be "inconvenient" here. It's an invalid council, rejected by Catholic and Orthodox alike, but which apparently (from the snippet here) nevertheless managed to get something right concerning the Eucharist.

Another such post has to do with the council of Jerusalem in 1672 - apparently an Orthodox one, not a Catholic one. Hence its decisions are not binding upon Catholics, and this isn't particularly relevant to me. But on the whole, and given the historical circumstances with respect to rise of Protestantism at the time, I can't say that I find anything particularly scandalous in it - viewed in its historical context. Uninformed and ill-educated folk ought not to pretend that their ideas about the Bible have any particular authority at all. And in any case such proscriptions are not a question of faith or morals. I can't speak for the Orthodox today, but the CCC affirms the value of reading the Scripture, so long as one understands it in keeping with the teaching of the Church.

A third (and probably the last one for now) such post addresses a single canon (out of at least 64) from the "Quinisext" council (also known as the Council in Trullo) - an Orthodox council of 691. Turretinfan seems to think that canon law ought to be treated as binding forever, and so he appears to think that Orthodox who don't act in accord with it are somehow contradicting the claims of their Church. I don't know for a fact about this, but I would be really really surprised if a canon law like this one (dealing with who may teach and where) is supposed to be treated as valid for all time. That's certainly not how canon law is treated in the Catholic Church. Judging from commenters at his blog, it appears that the Orthodox do not treat canon law as dogmatic, either.

In short: I don't see how these posts represent anything "inconvenient" at all. They don't amount to that for Catholics, and I'd be tremendously surprised if they were for Orthodox, either.

It appears that Turretinfan would do well to familiarize himself with the Catholic teaching on the authority of councils in (for example) CCC §880-892 and Lumen Gentium 25.