Per Caritatem

Concluding Thoughts

As I mentioned in an earlier post, one weakness of Oberman’s essay is that he is not in dialogue with the most current Roman Catholic documents on the relation of Scripture and tradition, viz., Dei Verbum. I recently read this document and have quoted below a few relevant (and lengthy) passages for reflection. The document is very eloquent and in many respects I see a tremendous amount of continuity between the Reformed Protestant and Roman Catholic views on Scripture and tradition, particularly from a T1 perspective. This is not of course to say that there would be full agreement, but it is to acknowledge how much the two traditions share in common. Since this is my first time to read the document, I do not feel qualified to give extensive commentary on the passages below. I have ordered a commentary on Vatican II documents with notes from Roman Catholic, Protestant, and Orthodox scholars. In addition, I have ordered a book by Yves Congar, The Meaning of Tradition (I am aware of Congar’s larger work on the subject, but I doubt that I will have time this summer to read through that massive work).
The first passage of Dei Verbum that I would like to highlight states that in sacred scripture “the marvelous ‘condescension’ of eternal wisdom is plain to be seen, ‘that we may come to know the ineffable loving-kindness of God and see for ourselves the thought and care he has given to accommodating his language to our nature’ [St. John Chrysostom, In Gen 3, 8 (homily 17, 1)]. Indeed the words of God, expressed in human language, are in every way like human speech, just as the Word of the eternal Father, when he took on himself the weak flesh of human beings became like them” (section 13, chapter III, DV). I find this passage quite beautiful—particularly the Christological analogy—and see no areas of disagreement here. Although the next passage on the magisterium would be problematic for a Protestant (perhaps not so much if the infallibility aspect were not attached), it is interesting to note the way in which the magisterium is described, viz., as the servant of the word of God. “The task of giving an authentic interpretation of the word of God, whether in its written form or in the form of tradition, has been entrusted to the living teaching office of the church alone. Its authority in this matter is exercised in the name of Jesus Christ. This magisterium is not superior to the word of God, but is rather its servant. It teaches only what has been handed on to it. At the divine command and with the help of the holy Spirit, it listens to this devoutly, guards it reverently and expounds it faithfully. All that it proposes for belief as being divinely revealed it draws from this sole deposit of faith” (section 10, chapter II, DV; emphasis added).

Speaking in Oberman’s categories, this seems to harmonize with a T1 view; however, given that this is my first read of the document and in light of the fact that I do not wish to make hard and fast conclusions about this document apart from being in dialogue with Catholic authors and texts, I look forward to reading the commentary that I mentioned earlier so as to better understand how a well-trained Roman Catholic theologian would explicate this passage. A few sections prior to the passage above, the document reads,

“God graciously arranged that what he had once revealed for the salvation of all peoples should last for ever in its entirety and be transmitted to all generations. Therefore, Christ the Lord, in whom the entire revelation of the most high God is summed up (see 1 Cor 1:20; 3:16-4:6), having fulfilled in his own person and promulgated with his own lips the Gospel promised beforehand by the prophets, commanded the apostles to preach it to everyone as the source of all saving truth and moral law, communicating God’s gifts to them. This was faithfully done: it was done by the apostles who handed on, by oral preaching, by their example, by their dispositions, what they themselves had received—whether from the lips of Christ, from his way of life and his works, or by coming to know it through the prompting of the holy Spirit ; it was done by those apostles and others associated with them who, under the inspiration of the same holy Spirit, committed the message of salvation to writing. In order that the full and living Gospel might always be preserved in the church the apostles left bishops as their successors. They gave them ‘their own position of teaching authority’ [St. Irenaeus, Adv. Haer. III, 3, 1]. This sacred tradition, then, and the sacred scripture of both Testaments, are like a mirror, in which the church, during its pilgrim journey here on earth, contemplates God, from whom it receives everything, until such time as it is brought to see him face to face as he really is (see Jn 3:2). Thus, the apostolic preaching, which is expressed in a special way in the inspired books, was to be preserved in a continuous line of succession until the end of time. Hence the apostles, in handing on what they themselves had received, warn the faithful to maintain the traditions which they had learned either by word of mouth or by letter (see 2 Th 2:15), and to fight for the faith that had been handed on to them once and for all (see Jude 3). What was handed on by the apostles comprises everything that serves to make the people of God live their lives in holiness and increase their faith. In this way the church, in its doctrine, life and worship, perpetuates and transmits to every generation all that it itself is, all that it believes. The tradition that comes from the apostles makes progress in the church, with the help of the holy Spirit. There is a growth in insight into the realities and words that are being passed on. This comes about through the contemplation and study of believers who ponder these things in their hearts (see Lk 2:19 and 51). It comes from the intimate sense of spiritual realities which they experience. And it comes from the preaching of those who, on succeeding to the office of bishop, have received the sure charism of truth. Thus, as the centuries go by, the church is always advancing toward the plenitude of divine truth, until eventually the words of God are fulfilled in it. The saying of the church Fathers are a witness to the life-giving presence of this tradition, showing how its riches are poured out in the practice and life of the believing and praying church. By means of the same tradition, the full canon of the sacred books is known to the church and the holy scriptures themselves are more thoroughly understood and constantly made effective in the church. Thus God, who spoke in the past, continues to converse with the spouse of his beloved Son. And the holy Spirit, through whom the living voice of the Gospel rings out in the church—and through the world—leads believers to the full truth and makes the word of Christ dwell in them in all its richness (see Col 3:16) [sections 7-8, chapter II, DV, emphases added].”

Here it seems to me that this passage could also be read as compatible with a T1 position. For Protestants, it is the possibility of a T2 reading that is problematic; yet, it is my understanding that some Catholics—those employing a Cardinal Newman type argument—would argue that even if one read the passage above as supporting a T2 view, both T1 and T2 are acceptable positions for a Catholic to hold. One could then claim that in light of the fact that Trent went with the more flexible “et” over the more restrictive “partim-partim,” it left room for T1 to re-emerge at a later date. Catholics supporting this line of argumentation might then claim that T3 is in fact not a re-writing of history, but is rather a making explicit what was already implicit and allowing for the development of dogma in light of changing historical circumstances. Personally, (yet with no disrespect meant to my Catholic brothers and sisters) I am not convinced that this approach does not involve a very sophisticated re-writing of dogma, while at the same time I welcome the charitable tone of the Vatican II documents and am particularly encouraged by what I have read in Unitatis Redintegratio—a work that I would recommend to all of my Protestant friends. Moreover, I do believe that there is progress in dogma via the work of the Holy Spirit through the Church in dialogue with tradition and birthed from prayerful meditation of Holy Scripture. In fact, this series has brought to mind an analogy that I would like to work out in more detail at a later date. The analogy runs something like this: the task of the Church since the closing of the canon might be understood as the task of a writing the final movement to a symphony. The first three movements of the symphony have already been written (Holy Scripture); thus, the main melody, the important themes, and the overall structure have been given. The final movement then must show continuity with what has gone before—e.g., the main melody must reappear and be clearly recognizable; however, it may appear in a completely different key than it appeared in the opening movement, or it may be harmonized differently (thus reflecting new historical circumstances etc.). The Church as a whole is involved in this corporate act of composing. Unlike the apostles, who we might say, possessed the gift of perfect pitch, those who hold teaching offices in the Church have been gifted with an extremely high degree of relative pitch (and thus remain fallible). Yet, by the grace of God and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, no one who is a member of Christ’s body is completely tone deaf. Consequently, all who are in union with Christ are able not only to identify the main melody (Christ himself) but are also able to sing it, and hence to participate in and contribute to the actual music itself!

My hope is that this series has been helpful both to Protestants and to Roman Catholics and to any others who have interest in these sorts of topics and wish to better understand the Protestant (both Lutheran and Reformed) teaching on the relation between scripture and tradition. In the spirit of Unitatis Redintegratio, which encourages dialogue between Protestants and Catholics in which each representative “explains the teaching of their communion in greater depth and brings out clearly its distinctive features. Through such dialogue everyone gains a truer knowledge and more just appreciation of the teaching and religious life of both communions (chapter 1, section 4, UR). I have tried to represent to the best of my ability and in the most charitable way (yet of course from a critical perspective) the Catholic position. This is not an area of expertise for me, so I have much to learn not only about my own tradition but also about the Roman Catholic position. Lastly, I would greatly appreciate any recommendations from both Protestant and Catholics as to current scholarly literature on the relation of Scripture and tradition.

With the hope of being more and more conformed to the image of Christ (and even in spite of myself),

Cynthia R. Nielsen

Oberman begins section three by distinguishing between “Tradition I” (T1) and “Tradition II” (T2). T1 stands for what has been described as the “exegetical tradition of interpreted scripture,” whereas T2 represents the “two-sources theory which allows for an extra-biblical oral tradition” (p. 280). As we have seen, both T1 and T2 have their medieval supporters. Moreover, as was mentioned previously, the canon lawyers in the Basilean line follow the two-sources theory with both sources requiring equal respect. The doctors, in contrast, begin to develop the oral tradition in a more subtle fashion. “In theory the material sufficiency of Holy Scripture is upheld long after it has been given up in actuality. The key term of this development is the word ‘implicit’ and the history of this term is one of increasing loss in content. When then finally the two propositions—‘Holy Scripture implicitly says’ and ‘Holy Scripture silently says’—are equated, the exegetical concept of Tradition I has fully developed into what we called Tradition II” (pp. 281-282).

With this history in mind, Oberman suggests that we will better understand the Council of Trent and later Roman Catholic theology [pre-Vatican II]. In light of everything that has been said up to this point, we see the difficulty of tracing T1 to the early part of the Middle Ages because in this period T1 and T2 cannot be sharply separated. This conflation or blurring of lines between the two has to do with the fact that those adhering de facto to T2 continue to claim to support the material sufficiency of scripture. Yet, according to Oberman, after the nominalists (e.g., Ockham, Gerson, d’Ailly and Biel) pave the way for Trent’s reception of T2, the historian can begin to gain a clearer understanding of the differences on both sides of the argument—an argument which is not one of Scripture verses tradition (p. 282). For example, Wyclif, Hus, and Gansfort do not oppose Scripture to tradition, rather they argue for T1 over T2. “True to Vincent’s five restrictive requirements for an authoritative tradition, they defend along with the material sufficiency of Holy Scripture the authority of the exegetical tradition whenever there is a common and explicit witness of the Fathers, in particular of the four great doctors of the Church: Augustine, Jerome, Ambrose and Gregory” (p. 282). Nor do the adherents of T1 deny the importance of episcopal succession for the purpose of preserving the truth. “They indeed regard tradition as the execution of the custodian’s task of the Church. But in contrast to those holding to Tradition II, the emphasis falls rather on the successio doctorum than on the successio episcoporum” (pp. 282-283).

As Oberman argues, Trent represents T2, and the Reformers represent T1. Oberman again reiterates that just as was the case in the later Middle Ages, so too is it the case in the period of Reformation and Counter-Reformation that the conflict is one of a clash of between two concepts of tradition (T1 and T2). Luther of course taught what is known as the sola scriptura principle. However, one should not understand this principle as denying the coinherence of Church and Scripture, but rather as operating within the context of T1, not T2. Throughout the many theological changes that Luther underwent, he never denied the importance of and need for T1.

With regard to the historical details of Trent, Oberman states that in its fourth session, the Council of Trent endorsed T2. In other words, by sanctioning the two-source theory, the extra-scriptural apostolic tradition is to be esteemed on the same level as Holy Scripture. “This implies not only that the successio fidei coincides with the successio episcoporum, but also an elevation of the authority of the Church above the authority of the canonized apostolic kerygma. Due to the restrictive localization of the testimonium internum of the Holy Spirit in the teaching office of the Church, Holy Scripture can only have a mute authority” (p. 286).

Oberman next cites two scholars, Joseph Geiselmann and Father George Tavard who have argued that the main post-Tridentine theologians have misinterpreted Trent as promoting a two-sources theory. Geiselmann and Tavard claim that the Council implicitly accepted the sufficiency of Scripture, and that they viewed tradition as the viva vox evangelii—which would in effect reflect a T1 position. Oberman, however, disagrees with Geiselmann’s thesis (which implicates Tavard as well) for the following reasons, which I will quote in toto:

(a) “The partly-partly (partim-partim) formula of the original draft of the Tridentine decree on the respective authorities of Scripture and tradition cannot be explained away as a product of nominalistic philosophy as Geiselmann suggests. Though one has to cede to the nominalistic theologians the honour of having made the two-sources theory ripe for its official reception at Trent, the formulation ‘partly-partly’ as such is rare and has not yet been traced to a nominalist theologian. The more current translation of the Basilean passage, ‘some—and others’ (quasdam-quasdam), is used by Gabriel Biel but can be traced back to the early medieval canonists. In view of such textual history, one would be well advised not to give too much weight to the change of the initial ‘partly-partly’ to the copulative ‘and’ (et). All three formulations render satisfactory St. Basil’s own choice of words (ta men, ta de).”

(b) “This conclusion is borne out by the statement of the cardinal legate Cervini who announces on 6th April 1546 after a night spent on the revision of the original draft that the final version is ‘in substance’ the same. This would hardly seem compatible with the idea that the Council changed its mind.”

(c) “The energetic protest against the ‘partly-partly’ formulation which Geislemann cites as the cause for the alleged change proves to be limited to two representatives, Bonacci and Nacchianti, of which the first stands under suspicion of heresy on points related to Scripture and tradition and the second was once called ‘avid for novelties’.”

(d) “The Catechismus Romanus (1566) quite clearly interprets ‘and’ (et) as ‘partly-partly’ (partim-partim) when it states that the Word of God is distributed over scripture and tradition” (pp. 287-288).

The bottom line is that according to Oberman, the Council of Trent clearly teaches a two-sources theory in its admission that all doctrinal truths are not found in Scripture. Tradition is a second source that “by adding its own substance complements Holy Scripture. The gradually eroded connection between explicit and implicit truths has been snapped; the exegetical tradition has been transformed into Tradition II” (p. 288). Oberman ends this section by noting that Geiselmann’s thesis has exercised much influence on a large segment of contemporary Roman Catholic theology. Moreover, though Geiselmann desires to demonstrate the error of the two-sources theory, this does not mean that he moves us to a T1 position.