I broke open the pages of this book, the Basic Sixteen Documents of the Vatican Council II (‘Vatican II’), comprising constitutions, decrees and declarations promulgated by the Synod called for by Pope John XXIII with its opening session held on October 11, 1962 and ending in 1965 under the new Pope Paul VI.
It was a fascinating read, and on reflection, what startled me most was its honesty. I complemented my reading by studying a few books about the Council and its inner workings. Two of these I read while on a Jesuit week-long retreat, at which I met a woman who joined me at our first communal dinner before blessed silence was to be imposed – and on whom my leave-me-alone grumpy-old-man emanations seemed to have had no effect. She seemed something of a fish out of water. That is, she was now, as an ex-nun, uncomfortably involved, peripherally and non-threateningly, in Church activities such as this retreat. And in response to reservations I had been forming, she effused about Vatican II as having been and remaining a tremendously positive event, oblivious to the fact that she was living proof that somehow Vatican II had been a dispiriting event, so much so that she had felt forced to leave the religious life and her vows. In a way then, meeting her confirmed those reservations I had been formulating while reading the documents, which I had started way back in January 2020 (that is, almost four years ago), about what had really happened at the Vatican, and of course this mystery helped make the reading all that more fascinating.
By the 1960s the times then had been abounding in change seemingly for the better: We had been victorious in the second world war, and were following Churchill’s advice: magnanimous in victory; good will in peace; we were taking steps to curtail use of the Atomic bomb and nuclear weaponry; we were creating ameliorating institutions such as the United Nations and World Health Organization; humans were exploring outer space and the moon, and in science and medicine research was advancing at a mind-bending scale; computers, clumsy and big (and so warm and huggable) were quietly emerging into the commonplace; world travel (by jet no less) was becoming feasible and affordable; there was even a sense of financial and social equality among mankind; and, democracy was blossoming everywhere, with the emergence of countries finally achieving independence from colonial overlords, joyously culminating for Montrealers, like me, in its 1967 Expo 67 showcasing hundreds of newly created democracies around the world, especially those in Africa and on the Arabian peninsula; and even, for a while, we had President Kennedy. A time full of raw idealism and hope, amid a time of profound political, cultural, social and philosophical transformation.
Probably because of all the turmoil that this transformation brought about I had been oblivious of Vatican II for years, and its conclusion and the release of the documents had no effect on me (which of course says something).
Part of the reason was that the documents seemed to have been, for me, formidably dense. But over the decades following Vatican II I had heard so many good things about the Council that my anticipation and expectations were building, with me thirsting for some time to give it the due I believed it needed, where I might be relatively free of family or work and all those myriad responsibilities and distractions, able to sit down to peruse it reverently and study it in the context of my being an active Catholic Christian. I knew way back that it was going to be a challenging read – the writing still seemed dense and somewhat preachy, displaying an often-uncomfortable translation from the Latin which is more concisely expressive than is English. So, although I went in bracing myself for the complexity of the material, I had not realized that the issue would be the content.
I then developed a sinking and upsetting realization that I had accepted what I was being told about Vatican II – and this is important: in spite of all the contrary evidence – believing that Popes like Paul VI, John Paul II and Benedict had simply been dragging their feet in opposition to the changes mandated by the Council. In other words, I felt I had been gaslighted.
In a way then, Vatican II seemed to have violated my, and everyone's, trust, both then and now, in a very fundamental and visceral way: at the risk of sounding Trumpian, it seemed the elites of the Church - its cardinals and bishops – consciously manipulated Catholics into believing Vatican II had been a good thing.
There were a lot of good things promoted by Vatican II of course. It encouraged Catholics to more fully embrace the world; it emphasized a pastoral orientation; it encouraged an apostolate of the laity; it promoted ecumenism and more formally an appreciation of religious diversity. And there were many moments when it was simply brilliant. Lawrence Ryan, for example, Bishop of Kildare, translator of the original Declaration of Religious Liberty (Dignitatis Humanae) and who updated for this edition says in it ‘truth can impose itself on the human mind by the force of its truth’. And later, on the role of parents, saying that ultimately parents are responsible for their children’s moral and cultural upbringing, something that has recently been lost in the transgender debates. And the document believes implicitly (if not perhaps a little naively) that when people exercise their religious rights, society will enjoy the benefits of justice and peace. It also talks warningly of the tendency among people to idolize the ‘market, ideology, class and technology’.
But at the heart of Vatican II, and invariably seeping in in virtually each of the sixteen documents produced by the Council is the centrality of power. Erasmus, a father of the Renaissance, warned the Church not to succumb to a lust for power (and he was excommunicated for his frankness). That might have been the essence of the struggle the Church fathers faced in responding to Pope John XXIII’s ask that they use the Synod to let in the fresh air of the Holy Spirit to reenergize the Church, with power becoming the key question about which the churchmen pivoted: was the Church an institution or was it a movement? They came down ruthlessly in the decision that it was an institution over which they, in the name of God, had exclusive command. We might be the ‘People of God’ as Lumen Gentium proclaims in chapter 2 but people – priests, religious, lay people – were but putty in their masterful hands, that is, a billion Catholics in the hands of about five thousand bishops, two hundred of which are cardinals. What I found here, then, was a love-letter to ambitious clergy within the institution of the Catholic Church: The elites of the Church, its Bishops, on a power trip.
Sadly then, I began, finally, to understand - which I had not before - why 100,000 ordained priests left in the ten years following the close of the Council, and who knows how many religious brothers and sisters had joined them, as my fellow retreatant had. And also, why good and idealistic young men and woman who I had met and continue to meet daily at work and at home or even casually in my dog-walking - and these are good kids, smart, well-educated, world travelled, idealistic - did not and do not join religious orders and the priesthood in the decades following Vatican II and today. And how could they, really, so full of fire and idealism as they are? But the Church blamed us and them, and still do, for its failure, blaming us for a lack of men becoming priests and for the dearth of religious vocations, blaming us for our desire for what they say is a false freedom, for our individualism, and our selfishness, our materialism.
I understood too how Pope Paul VI had unilaterally overruled a commission that had been created during Vatican II to study birth control, which ultimately advocated a change in the Church’s teaching (to eliminate the ban on artificial contraception), with his abrupt release of the encyclical Humanae Vitae in 1968. He was what Vatican II called for: an organization man. I doubt few people have read the Vatican II documents as a whole from beginning to end. It has the potential to crush the human spirit. The first almost one hundred pages – the much praised Lumen Gentium (the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church) – is, in excruciating detail, a paean to the centrality of Church power (materialized in the Bishops as successors of the Apostles) and in the maintenance of the purity of the Catholic faith performed by the secretive and all-powerful Magisterium; a position reiterated again in the Decree on the Bishops (Christus Dominus) and again in decrees on priests (Presbyterorum Ordinis (priests) and Optatam Totius (training of priests); and, again in Perfectae Caritatis (those in religious life who with Vatican II now have to report to their local Bishop): that “they should be prepared to submit to the judgment of those who exercise the chief function in ‘ruling’ God’s Church (paragraph 15 on obedience)” - thus a theme that runs through these and all the other Vatican II documents.
Another theme that tortured many of the Catholic prelates participating in the Vatican II sessions – which became for them ‘an existential crisis’ – was whether the Church could err i.e. that the Church could be wrong in some of its approaches to Catholic teaching. As a lay-person, and with much experience in erring, I would conclude yes, absolutely. The Church Fathers though said no, the Church does not err. It was probably one reason Pope Paul VI had had to uphold the ban on contraception. I found that this position reflects a smallness – almost a lack of faith and maturity and courage in these men, and a disturbing lack of faith in God – and one feels it most strongly in the penultimate document (Nostra Aetate – the Declaration of the Relation of the Church to Non-Christian Religions). For one, it has a disturbing absence of any mention of Indigenous culture and religious practices. But it treats quite respectfully those practicing Hinduism and Buddhism (in paragraph 2) and Islam (in paragraph 3). But in paragraph 4, and this is twenty years after the Holocaust, it dances around rhetorically without initially even naming the Jews or the Jewish faith, until it finally lobbies a criticism: ‘even though the Jewish authorities and those who followed their lead pressed for the death of Christ … and (were responsible for the) crimes committed during his passion”. l found it shameful, and embarrassing. Has our own Magisterium been much different? Would they not – say under Benedict – have persecuted and prosecuted someone they perceived as having undermined the purity of the Catholic faith? Had they been kinder to Galileo than the Jewish leadership to Christ? How many ‘heretics’ and ‘witches’ have members of the Church hierarchy tortured and mercilessly killed in the name of our Catholic Faith?
A couple of years ago TV Ontario interviewed George Weigel, a catholic commentator, on a book he released called The Next Pope. The interviewer, Steve Paikin, expressed his surprised at the title given that Pope Francis was still going strong. Weigel's point is that Popes Paul VI, John Paul II, Benedict and even Francis are all products of the thinking that created Vatican II, and all participated in its development and rollout. The next Pope will not be; and the next one will have been molded by different forces, perhaps less by power dynamics and ambition than by things that are fundamental to our humanity and Christ’s teaching and way of life: social justice; the environment and our very existence; imbalance of wealth among the few and poverty among the many; explosive wars occurring everywhere; massive migration of displaced persons; depression and a sense of hopelessness among many of our youth. The worst of times.
Do I recommend reading this, carefully and reverently? Yes. One of the neat things is the references, for example, to Pope John XXIII’s Pacem in Terris. And overall the plethora of references gives a sense of the rich and robust history of the intellectual and spiritual life of the Church. In Vatican II the ambitious thin-skinned politicians of the Church won the battle – and recent history since the close of the Council showed that God was not with them – but the war for our faith and souls rages on. I don’t know what the current Synods run by Pope Francis will produce – likely very little of lasting value – but I do know the world needs more good Catholics and Christians, more dedicated, smart and holy-ish priests and religious.
I can now understand how God is not answering our constant prayers for priests because their presence would simply add fire to the ambitious institutionalists energized by Vatican II – so perhaps He has done a cull – because what we need are faith-filled leaders, full of zeal and on fire for and with Christ, Ezekiels for the modern world, leaders after the mold of Christ in his humility and poverty, not men playing at being gods, vying with one another for power over Catholic minds. God had the Jewish temple destroyed twice and it seems to me that if our Church continues to play God it is conceivable that we too will become irrelevant and our assets expendable.
Edwin