Rorate Caeli

Three New Offerings on 7th Day Adventism, Vatican II, and Our Lady

Another busy week of research and writing is coming to a close, and I wanted to share with the Rorate Caeli audience some of the fruits of this week's labor.

In Dies Domini: Is Saturday the True Sabbath?, an essay published in the current issue of From the Housetops, the Seventh-Day Adventist argument is considered and refuted from both Scripture and Church History. Why do we worship on Sunday, when God specifically commanded us to keep holy the seventh day, which is Saturday? The catechisms all admit: the Church changed the observance of the Sabbath from Saturday to Sunday. But how can the Church do this, when God Himself said that the seventh-day Sabbath was an "everlasting covenant," and "a perpetual sign"? The essay will undoubtedly be of interest, even to those who do not interact with Seventh-Day Adventists, as it goes into some detail describing the Divine Logic of worshiping Christ as God on the eighth day, not the seventh.

As part of an on-going series of articles that attempt a Traditional Catholic interpretation of the Vatican II documents, Gaudium et Spes: A Traditionalist Reading looks at a wide range of opinions on this lengthy document - from liberals to conservatives to Traditionalists. Is this document heretical? Harmful? Rambling, but still innocuous? Out-dated? Of particular interest to readers of this blog will be the discussion in this essay about Cardinal Ratzinger's famous statement: Gaudium et Spes represents a "countersyllabus":

What does it mean that Gaudium et Spes is a "countersyllabus"? Ratzinger's words are basically self-explanatory: the Syllabus addressed a politico-religio-historical situation by taking a hard-line approach, what Ratzinger would consider a kind of fortress mentality. How does the Church relate to this kind of world? According to Pius IX, She doesn't relate to it; She cuts Herself off from it and raises the bastions (to anticipate another of Ratzinger's statements). But in the time between the Syllabus and Gaudium et Spes, according to Ratzinger, that particular world-situation had been changing: we had the "new ecclesiastical policy of Pius XI" which "produced a certain openness toward a liberal understanding of the state"; likewise, "exegesis and Church history adopted more and more the postulates of liberal science"; perhaps more significant, "liberalism, too, was obliged to undergo many significant changes in the great political upheavals of the twentieth century." Did the Syllabus still speak to the current situation, or was there need of a reappraisal? Apparently the council fathers felt that such a reappraisal was necessary.

But in what way is GS a "countersyllabus"? How is it a "revision"? Perhaps the answer lies in the orientation of GS - the willingness of the Church to say to the Modern World, "We've already condemned these principles, but now let's talk about why they must be condemned - let's 'dialogue' on these subjects."

Certainly GS did not revoke the Syllabus or turn it on its head; in fact, in many ways GS reaffirmed the teaching of the Syllabus on several points. For example, GS approaches the Modern World precisely with the assumption that human reason is not the "ultimate standard by which man can and ought to arrive at the knowledge of all truths of every kind." (Syllabus, n. 4) GS rejects the idea that "the faith of Christ is in opposition to human reason and divine revelation not only is not useful, but is even hurtful to the perfection of man" (ibid., n. 6), and for this reason the Church continues to recognize Her mission to bring the truth of Divine Revelation to the world.

Ratzinger's words, ultimately, must be understood in the sense that GS is the complement to the Syllabus. The English dictionary gives the definition "contrary" or "opposing" to the word "counter" (as in "countersyllabus") as its primary meaning, and this seems to be how Ratzinger's words are inevitably interpreted: GS is the contrary-to-the-syllabus document. But the word has a secondary meaning as well: "corresponding" or "complementary." Taken in this light, Ratzinger would be saying that GS is the corresponding-complement-to-the-syllabus.


Finally, Jon Field gives us the fourth part of his Mary as Mediatrix of Grace: A Trinitarian Approach series. This installment shows in what way both the Church and Our Lady function as spiritual mothers - or rather, how they together function as one spiritual mother. That is to say, the motherhood of Mary is not something in addition to the motherhood of the Church - they share single motherhood. Field explains how this can be:


How can Mary and the Catholic Church both be one Mother? This at first glance seems to be a muddle. The answer lies in the fact that the Catholic Church (considered as the Bride of Christ) is an extension of the perfections of Mary, the ultimate Bride of Christ. Every perfection that can be found in the Saints from the beginning of the world to the end of time are just faint participations in the perfections of Mary. These perfections of the Saints add nothing new to the Church, since Mary possesses them fully under her Son. Therefore Mary (as the Bride of Christ) contains the fullness on the perfections of the Church within her. In this way, Mary could be said to be, in a certain sense, the Church herself!

In fact, according to several Fathers, she sums up all the "perfections" of the Church in her own person; she is the Catholic Church (considered as bride - not head) in miniature. St. Thomas of Villanova writes:


As at the creation of the world all creatures were condensed into man who is therefore called microcosm (the little world), so at the restoration of the world all the perfections of the Church and the Saints have been gathered in one in the Blessed Virgin. Hence Mary may be called the microcosm of the Church, for she by herself is more precious and more worthy than the whole universe. (In Fest. Nativ. B.M.V., Conc. 3, n. 8, quoted in Mother of God, Mary in Scripture and Tradition [Augustine Publishing Co., 1987], pp. 27-28)


This statement would not be true if Mary did not possess all the Church's perfections. If Mary, let us say, possessed only the perfections of humility and charity in their fullness, and the martyr Saints of the Church possessed the perfections of patience and fortitude in their fullness, then the martyrs being added to the Church, under Mary, would increase the perfection of the Church; would add something to the perfections of Mary. But if Mary contains all the perfections in a supreme way, then none of the other members of the Church can increase those perfections in themselves.

Of course these perfections are "increased" by being multiplied in many members rather than just one. But the point is that the perfections themselves are not increased one iota.

To put it in more philosophical language, Mary contains the perfections of the Church intensively but not extensively. It is true that the more members that are added to the Church the more that perfection increases extensively. But the perfections are not increased in themselves; they are not increased intensively. If I teach the mathematical truth to children that 1+2=3, that truth will pass from my mind into many minds. In this sense the truth will be increased (accidently) as it is multiplied in many minds. But the truth itself (substantially), 1+2=3, will remain itself; it will not be increased or perfected at all!

In the same way, Mary as first member of the Church under her Son, passes on her perfections to the rest of her children. We receive those perfections and participate in them in various ways without in any way increasing them. Just like Creation adds nothing to God, so the Church adds nothing to Mary. Every perfection that the Church has (considered as bride alone) participates in Mary, just like every perfection in the universe participates in God.

We can conclude that the Church can not be viewed as an entity apart from Mary or alongside Mary. We do not have two Mothers, but rather one. That mother is Mary, whose maternal mediation is extended to us through the Church. In other words, the Church is our Mother precisely because she is the extension of the work of Mary. Her work is not something "other" than Mary. The Church does not "mother" us half the time, and Mary the other half. It is not a co-ordinated effort - like two horses pulling a cart; rather it is a sub-ordinated work like an author writing a letter through the instrumentality of a pen. Both the author and the pen do the whole work, the former acting through the latter. In like manner we do not have two "part time" mommies sharing work shifts. Rather the Church "mothers" us all the time - from baptism to death - but as an extension of Mary's motherhood. Therefore every grace that is mediated to us through the Church is a grace mediated by Mary. Mary acts in the Roman Catholic Church as a mother to us. That is why we call the Roman Catholic Church our Mother! We can truly say with Saint Clement, "One only Mother Virgin. Dear it is to me to call her the Church" without in any way denying that Mary is the Mother Virgin; rather by saying so we are affirming it!


Field also tackles the difficult question of how the Church can be called "Mother," when the Church is made up (hierarchically) entirely of fathers. A related question is dealt with: how can Mary be said to mediate grace to us when mediation is the work of the priest? Is Mary a priestess? This installment is arguably one of the most well-presented and interesting contributions from Field to date.