By Cynthia R. Nielsen
The following passages are excerpts from a document called Women Bishops: A Response to Cardinal Kasper (a background article written for the discussions at General Synod, York, July 2006) by Tom Wright, Bishop of Durham and David Stancliffe, Bishop of Salisbury. I bring this to your attention as the result of the very fruitful discussion centered on the question “What is Anglicanism.” I do not offer any commentary on the text below, and have decided to highlight the following paragraphs for discussion because they relate to our previous discussion on Anglicanism and present the following: (1) an Anglican understanding of unity, (2) a discussion of women’s ordination in a non-polemical tone and free of the common rhetoric, and (3) the Anglican view of the relation between Scripture and tradition.
I am particularly interested in hearing from Anglicans, Episcopalians, and Roman Catholics (as well as other thoughtful contributors) on anything that directly relates to (1)-(3) as set out in paragraphs 7-10 below. Critical, explanatory, or other constructive comments are welcomed; however, I do plan to moderate the comments (as usual) and will despotically delete any that are in my opinion lacking substance and are simply rhetorically charged (from either side).
In part II, I will post excerpts from the second half of the document, which attempts to sketch some of the exegetical reasons for the Anglican position on the ordination of women.
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Excerpts from “Women Bishops: A Response to Cardinal Kasper”
[7] The question of Cardinal Kasper bringing a distinctively Roman perspective to Anglican affairs is also revealed in his remarks about unity, and about the role of the ordained ministry, and particularly of bishops, in engendering communion within that. The Anglican tradition takes its role as a ‘bridge’ seriously, and we too believe that we must work for, discern and enhance that unity for which Jesus prayed. But we do not believe that eucharistic unity (’communion’ in that sense) is only attainable when there is full recognition of ministries, and all are in communion with the see of Rome. In Anglican theology, unity is achieved by our saying yes to God’s gracious invitation to his table. It is because we are one with God through being caught up in Christ’s one perfect self-offering to the Father that we have unity with one another, rather than communion with God being a consequence of our union with one another. We, in other words, are inclined to see eucharistic sharing not as the goal at the end of the ecumenical pilgrimage where God is waiting for us, but as the path of that pilgrimage itself, along which he accompanies us on the way. We would base our theology of union within the Godhead on a dynamic incorporation into the divine life of the Holy Trinity, rather more than on a sacramental theology based on the validity of the sacrament confected by one who has the authority to do so; and we would prefer to see debates about orders within the frame of mutual eucharistic hospitality, rather than the other way around. In this regard, we would look to Galatians 2, with its clear teaching that all who believe in Jesus Christ belong at the same table, no matter what their cultural background.
[8] There also needs to be further discussion on the nature of Catholicity. What was distinctive of the Church of the New Testament and the early centuries was that, unlike many other religious movements of the time, it was not based on race or profession. It broke through social but also natural divisions such as age and gender. It did this above all in its foundational, Eucharistic life, as we learn from I Corinthians 11, and from that basis its total life was formed. The Church today in its local existence must continue to embrace people of a wide variety of different types and kinds, including people with diverse opinions. This is, indeed, what is constitutive of the Church’s Catholicity, as has amply been demonstrated by the Greek Orthodox theologian, John Zizioulas,[1] who writes “the eucharistic community was in its composition a catholic community in the sense that it transcended not only social but also natural divisions, just as it will happen in the Kingdom of God of which this community was a revelation and a real sign”. The Augustinian understanding of Catholicity as universal overtook the more ancient Pauline and Ignatian understanding of Catholicity as inclusive. Wholeness is of the very essence of Church and without it the Church is not what she is called to be.
[9] In discussing the source of the Church’s authority, the Cardinal comes close at times to saying that it is only through the lens of the Church’s tradition that scripture can be read. That has never been the Anglican position on the balance between scripture and tradition. Our formulation, carefully balanced, is that the faith we profess is a faith ‘uniquely revealed in the Holy Scriptures, set forth in the Catholic creeds, and to which the historic formularies of the Church of England bear witness.’ Our formularies continue with this historically based mission imperative: ‘the Church…led by the Holy Spirit…has borne witness to Christian truth in its historic formularies, the Thirty-nine Articles of Religion, The Book of Common Prayer and the Ordering of Bishops, Priests and Deacons, …and is called upon to proclaim [this faith] afresh in each generation.’ This commitment to proclaim the faith afresh is a challenge to pursue those developments in the Church’s life which are consonant with scripture and are found to be life-giving. In the end, the arbiter is the sensus fidei, the entire body of the faithful, as was pointed out to Pius IX in 1848 by the Eastern Patriarchs in their Encyclical: “the protector of religion is the very body of the Church, even the people themselves”. The faithful are the ultimate guardians of Tradition and the faith.
[10] Thus, while the Cardinal declares that the Roman Catholic Church is convinced that she has no authority for ordaining women, the Anglican church would characteristically say that if this undoubted innovation can be shown to follow from, or be contained in, scripture, then that is sufficient authority whether or not the subsequent tradition of the church has allowed it. This is not to be cavalier with tradition, to which we give a very high regard; merely to insist that (since, as Aquinas himself insisted, ‘tradition’ is the deposit of what the church has said as it has read scripture) it must always take second place to scripture – the whole of the scriptural revelation and not just a selection of ‘proof texts’ – itself. This is the method which Anglicans have classically embraced, and which we attempt to follow as a fundamental theological method.
Notes
[1] John Zizioulas:
Being as Communion, SVSP, NY, 1985,p. 152 and more generally pp.149-154. See also
John Zizioulas: The ecclesiological presuppositions of the Holy Eucharist (Nicolaus 10, 1982). ‘This Pauline ecclesiology which identifies Church and Eucharist so closely is developed further by St Ignatius of Antioch. What characterises Ignatius in particular is that the Eucharist does not simply make the local catholic community into the Church, but that it makes it the catholic Church (katholike ecclesia), that is, the full and integral body of Christ. It would not be an exaggeration to say that for Ignatius the catholicity of the Church derives from the celebration of the Eucharist. And this allows Ignatius to apply the term ‘catholic Church’ to the local community. Each local eucharistic community presided over by the bishop surrounded by the college of presbyters and assisted by the deacons, in the presence of the multitude (
plethos), the people, constitutes the ‘catholic Church’ precisely because in it the total Christ is found in the form of the Eucharist.After Ignatius the preoccupation of the Church with the danger of Gnosticism and other heresies forced her to emphasise orthodoxy as the fundamental and decisive ingredient of ecclesiology. Thus, the relation between Church and Eucharist seems to be weakened to some extent in the writers of the second century, though it is not absent from their thought. The situation is exemplified by St Irenaeus who regards orthodoxy as fundamental to ecclesiology while making the Eucharist the criterion of catholicity: ‘Our faith (belief: gnome) is in accordance with the Eucharist and the Eucharist confirms our faith’ (Adv Haereses 4.8,5). It is mainly for this reason that in all ancient writers before St Augustine each local Church is called catholic, the full and integral body of Christ.With St Augustine something seems to change in this respect. Striving with the provincialism of the Donatists, for the first time the term ‘catholic Church’ acquires the meaning, not of the local Church, but of the Church universal. This gives catholicity the meaning of universality, and with it a quantitative and geographical content instead of the original qualitative one.’
By Cynthia R. Nielsen
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
By Cynthia R. Nielsen
In the fourth section of his essay, Oberman concludes his historical survey with a discussion of the developments in Roman Catholic theology on the relation of Scripture and tradition from Trent to the present [1]. According to Oberman, the T2 view as espoused by Trent has been preserved through the “authority of the Roman catechism and the wide influence of Peter Canisius and Robert Bellarmin” (p. 289). In addition, through the Tübingen School the idea of “living tradition” has come to the fore and can been seen in Johann Adam Möhler’s work, Symbolik (1832), where he describes “tradition as the Gospel living in the Church, not simply as a conservation of the original deposit of faith, but as a development of it. Holy Scripture is for Möhler the matter, the Church, the life-giving form” (p. 289). Oberman also mentions that Vatican I cites formulations given at Trent, which as we have seen supports a T2 view. Oberman then lists a number of dogmas that were declared in the 19th and 20th centuries that have led to a “reconsideration of the relation of the Magisterium as active tradition to the so-called sources of Revelation as the objective tradition” (p. 290). Given the new papal pronouncements and the contributions from theologians such a Cardinal Newman and Jos. Scheeben, a new understanding of tradition began to develop—what Oberman labels as Tradition III (T3). This T3 concept, which was in process of being developed when Oberman wrote his essay, is supported by “those who tend to find in the teaching office of the Church the one and only source for revelation. Scripture and tradition are then not much more than historical monuments of the past. In any case the papal encyclical of Humani Generis of 12th August 1950 can still be understood in terms of Tradition II. According to this authoritative document, the teaching office of the Church is the regula proxima or immediate rule for faith” (p. 290).
This brings us to the final section of Oberman’s essay. Having completed his historical survey, Oberman turns to discuss three systematic observations from what he has said up to this point: “(1) The significance of Tradition I for the Protestant understanding of canon and canonicity; (2) The basic contrast between Protestant and Roman Catholic scholarship; (3) The implications of the development from Tradition II to Tradition III in Roman Catholic theology” (p. 290). Regarding (1), Oberman emphasizes that the sola scriptura principle speaks of the sufficiency of Scripture and expresses both a “doctrinal quantitative perfection” and a “spiritual qualitative perfection.” These quantitative/qualitative distinctions correspond to the Church’s twofold response in terms of fides quae and fides qua —a correspondence which T1 strongly affirms. In addition, the Reformers were more cognizant than their T1 precursors that drawing the material/formal distinction in relation to the sufficiency of Scripture “may carry the dangerous connotation of contrast between the dead matter of Holy Scripture and the life-giving form of the Church. But they [the Reformers] have always emphasized that the sufficiency of Holy Scripture in both its material and formal aspects can only function when Scripture is opened, that is Scripture is seen as the Book given to the Church, which is gathered and guided by the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit as the principal Doctor uses the Church to lead the faithful into all truth, that is, from implicit to explicit truth, to open the Scriptures by his internal testimony; by the drawing up of confessions; but primarily and centrally by the preaching of the kerygma, which is the very Word of God” (pp. 290-291). Though it should be clear by now, nonetheless, I shall insert it anyway—T1 operates with a closed canon, whereas T2 operates with an open canon. Moreover, T2 views the formation of the canon as having been approved or created by the Church. T1, in contrast, accents the reception of the canon by the Church. “Indeed the Church thus acknowledged the necessity of an unambiguous authority amidst the confusing claims of pseudopigraphic literature and oral traditions. Those writings which we now know as the canonical books were received as sharing in the uniqueness of God’s revelation in Jesus Christ. It is this unique character which is expressed and respected in the concept of the closed canon” (p. 291).
Regarding (2), Oberman states that in light of the contrast between T1 and T2, both Protestants and Roman Catholics must be aware of and acknowledge the differing “doctrinal bases” so that fruitful interchanges can occur. Here Oberman points to the difference between a Protestant and Roman Catholic conception of the task of theology (this is not the only task of course). “Humani generis declared in 1950 that it is the task of theology to show in what way a doctrine defined by the Church is contained in the sources of faith: Scripture and Tradition [A.A.S., 42.568]. The task of the doctor, be he biblical scholar or Christian historian, is to read the latest doctrinal decisions back into his sources” (pp. 292-293).
Next, Oberman turns to J. Scheeben, who at the end of the 19th century acknowledged that not all catholic truths are contained in Holy Scripture, and whose distinction between analytic and synthetic interpretation helps us to better understand the differences between Protestant and Roman Catholic scholarship as it relates to our present inquiry. To illustrate his point, Oberman reminds us of his argument against Geiselmann’s thesis which was done via the analytical approach. As Oberman has also brought to our attention, it is the prerogative of the Roman Catholic Church to interpret its own sources. More specifically, the magisterium is charged with interpreting its past documents in light of the fact that the teaching office is the “authoritative centre of the living tradition. By adding now to the traditional analytic method the synthetic method of interpretation, the Tridentine decree cannot constitute for the Church an obstacle for accepting officially the thesis that everything is simultaneously contained in Scripture and tradition. Once such a doctrine would be officially defined which is not, or at least, not yet, it would instantly become the task of the Roman Catholic theologian to support Geiselmann’s interpretation of the Tridentine decrees” (p. 294). This difference in interpretative procedures must be kept in mind if one hopes for a productive and intelligent dialogue between the two parties.
Lastly, Oberman addresses (3) and asks whether T3 is a movement toward T1 and hence a drawing nearer to the Protestant position. According to Oberman, it is not, but rather indicates that T2 has developed into T3. [Keep in mind that Oberman’s essay was written prior to the completion of Vatican II documents, which is a point I will address in my final post in this series]. As Oberman has explained things, T1 gave rise to T2 due to the fact that theologians and canon lawyers realized that “all the truths actually held by the Church could not be found explicitly or implicitly in Holy Scripture. Especially due to the mariological dogmas of 1854 and 1950, theologians have concluded once again, that not only Scripture, but now also Scripture and tradition taken together are materially insufficient to support by simple explication these authoritative definitions. Scripture and tradition are still held to be the sources, and the Teaching office of the Church, the norm which preserves and interprets the sources [Apostolic Constitution Munifecentissimus Deus. Nov. 1, 1950, A.A.S. 42 (1950), p. 757]. But in as much as this interpretation is synthetic, the norm takes on the function of the source. The Apostolic Constitution in which the bodily assumption of the Virgin Mary is defined refers to the unique consensus, not of the Church of all ages, but of the present-day Church. Not as an argument for, but as part of this authoritative definition it is announced that this divine truth is contained in the deposit of faith” (p. 294).
In his essay, Oberman has traced the movement from T1 where the material sufficiency of Scripture is maintained, to T2 in which both Scripture and Tradition constitute two sources requiring equal respect, to T3 in which, from a Protestant perspective, the magisterium is not only too highly exalted, but it also seems to be able to re-write its own official (infallible) dogma. [In my concluding post, I will attempt to give a possible Catholic response to the charge made in my last statement, and I welcome other possible Catholic responses as well].
Notes
[1] Oberman’s essay was published in 1962, which means that it predates Vatican II. Given that Oberman did not interact with V2 documents and especially with Dei Verbum, one would want to continue this dialogue with the most current Roman Catholic pronouncements on the relation of Scripture and tradition. I will return to this point in the concluding section of this series.
[2] A.A.S., 42, p. 567, ‘Totum depositum fidei…et custodiendum et tuendum et interpretandum concrederit (Magisterio)’, as cited in Oberman, p. 294.
By 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.
By Cynthia R. Nielsen
In the second section of his essay, Oberman moves into a discussion of the concept of tradition that characterized the fourth and fifth centuries. First, however, he summarizes two important points of the pre-Augustinian concept of tradition: (1) “The immediate divine origin of tradition together with the insistence on a clearly circumscribed series of historical acts of God in the rule of faith or the rule of truth;” (2) “The rejection of extra-scriptural tradition.”
Oberman begins by appealing to the work of Father George Tavard. In his book Holy Writ or Holy Church, Tavard claims that a seamless continuity of the organic relation of scripture and tradition existed between patristic and medieval theology until the 14th century. However, two new currents of thought began to threaten this understanding: (1) “one which opposes the Scriptures to the Church in admitting the possibility that only a remnant in the visible Church would be obedient to Scripture;” (2) “one which introduces the concept of post-apostolic and oral traditions and raises the Holy See to the dignity of judge of post-apostolic revelation” (p. 276). With the canon lawyers, according to Tavard we see a break with “medieval classicism. Living authority replaces both Scripture and its traditional interpretation” (Holy Writ or Holy Church, p. 39, as cited in Oberman, p. 276). Yet, Tavard also points out that the opposing group, viz., those who claimed that Scripture alone was the sole standard of truth for the Church, were also responsible for destroying the patristic-medieval unity—“from this to the doctrines of the Reformation there is only a difference of degree” (Holy Writ or Holy Church, p. 40, as cited in Oberman, p. 276).
According to Oberman, the shift away from the coinherence of Scripture and Church as maintained by the patristic-medieval vision that Tavard highlights can be traced back to the early Middle Ages—specifically to Basil the Great (c. 330-370) whose views on the subject where later propagated by Augustine. A new concept of tradition is set forth in Basil’s work, On the Holy Spirit. “We meet here for the first time the idea that the Christian owes equal respect and obedience to the written and to the unwritten ecclesiastical traditions, whether they are contained in the canonical writings or in the secret oral tradition handed down by the Apostles through succession” (p. 277). A number of canon lawyers (e.g., Ivo of Chartres and Gratian of Bologna) circulate Basil’s ideas in their writings and thus help to establish the two-sources theory for canon lawyers. For the medieval doctor of theology, however, Scripture remains the “authoritative source which stands in judgment over the interpretation of later commentators. The term ‘sacred page’ for theology is indicative for this close relationship” (p. 277). Such a view can be seen in St. Thomas Aquinas’ work. In the Summa Theologica, Thomas writes, “sacred doctrine makes use of these authorities [those of the philosophers] as extrinsic and probable arguments; but properly uses the authority of the canonical Scriptures as an incontrovertible proof, and the authority of the doctors of the Church as one that may properly be used, yet merely as probable. For our faith rests upon the revelation made to the apostles and prophets who wrote the canonical books, and not on the revelations (if any such there are) made to other doctors. Hence Augustine says (Epis. ad Hieron. xix, 1): ‘Only those books of Scripture which are called canonical have I learned to hold in such honor as to believe their authors have not erred in any way in writing them. But other authors I so read as not to deem everything in their works to be true, merely on account of their having so thought and written, whatever may have been their holiness and learning’” (ST I, q. 1, art. 8, ad 2).
Turning to Augustine, Oberman notes that although Augustine asserts the primacy of Scripture, he did not set this in opposition with the authority of the Catholic Church, “…I would not believe the Gospel, unless the authority of the Catholic Church moved me” [Contra ep. fund., 5], (p. 278). Disagreement soon ensued over the nature of the moving power (commovere of the Church. Some argued that the Church has a practical and instrumental authority (Gregory of Rimini), while others toward the end of the 14th century argued that Augustine’s statement points to a metaphysical priority. That is, in contrast to the idea that the Church’s authority over Scripture had a practical priority in a way similar to the function of Jesus’ miracles, viz., to urge his hearers to believe His words, the “moving authority of the Church becomes in late medieval versions the Church’s approval or creation of Holy Scripture” (p. 278). In distinction from Irenaeus’ and Tertullian’s emphasis on the sufficiency of Scripture, Augustine promotes an authoritative extra-scriptural oral tradition. “While on the one hand the Church ‘moves’ the faithful to discover the authority of Scripture, Scripture on the other hand refers the faithful back to the authority of the Church with regard to a series of issues with which the Apostles did not deal in writing” (p. 279).
Oberman then asks whether the Commonitorium of Vincent of Lerins written in the 5th century has contributed to furthering the two-sources theory. Vincent’s famous thesis is that the Catholic Church must hold to that which has been believed everywhere, always and by everyone—a thesis which seems to permit the idea of an authoritative extra-biblical tradition. Oberman, however, argues that when read in context we find that Vincent accepts the material sufficiency of scripture but rejects its formal sufficiency. “He [Vincent] insists that Holy Scripture needs to be interpreted by the Church since the heretics from Novation to Nestorius all advanced their own exegeses of biblical passages” [Commonitorium II.2], (p. 277). Vincent sees the task of interpretation as preservation and protection against the possibility of perverting what the Apostles have handed down. For Vincent, proper biblical exegesis is not safeguarded “in a secret oral tradition traceable to the Apostles themselves, but in the explicit consensus of the Fathers which provides a safeguard against arbitrary interpretation” (p. 279). Vincent seems to follow St. Thomas in that he does not want the interpretation of the Church to effectively become a second source apart from Holy Scripture. For Vincent, as was the case for Thomas, the “Fathers are in principle magistri probabiles, teachers whose utterances are probable but do not yet constitute proof (seeST I, q. 1, art. 8, ad 2; emphasis added). In fact, the statements of the Fathers come to represent the deposit of faith only when the following five requirements are satisfied: (1) all the Fathers must be of one mind on the issue (non unus aut duo tantum sed omnes pariter; (2) “the consensus has to be exactly the same ( uno eodemque consensu); (3) their opinion should be openly and explicitly formulated (aperte); repeatedly advanced (frequenter); and (5) continuously held, written and taught (perseveranter tenuisse, scripsisse, docuisse)” (p. 280). Oberman concludes the section by noting that though it is often taught (and may very well be the case) that Vincent directs his Commonitorium against Augustine’s strong teaching on predestination, nonetheless, “one does not tax the sources too heavily when one concludes that Vincent here directs his concept of authoritative exegetical tradition primarily against a two-sources theory” (p. 280).
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Eastern Orthodox Thinkers/Themes,
Greek Fathers,
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Reformation History,
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Tradition,
Vincent of Lerins,
two-source theory
By Cynthia R. Nielsen
In chapter twelve of his work, Dawn of the Reformation, Heiko Oberman discusses the issue of the relation of Scripture and tradition. As Oberman observes, the 16th century was marked with “bitter polemics concerning the source and norm of the Church’s knowledge of God’s revelation. Traditionally this is described as the clash of the sola scriptura-principle with the Scripture and tradition-principle” (p. 270). Both Protestants and Catholics were eager to uphold the purity and authority of God’s word, yet each believed that the other’s view was detrimental to maintaining this purity and authority. The Reformers pointed to ways in which ecclesial traditions had come to distort the Gospel, while proponents of the Counter-Reformation decried the Reformers for breaking with tradition and promoting private interpretations. “In both cases reliance on human authority is said to interfere with the rule of obedience to Holy Scripture” (p. 270). Oberman then highlights what in my opinion is often glossed over or completely ignored in this discussion, viz., that the debate before us is not one of Scripture or tradition. Until this misconception is deconstructed, the conversation will continue to stagnate. Rather, what we have in these competing claims is “the clash between two concepts of tradition” (p. 270). In order to more fully explicate these two concepts, Oberman begins by examining the gradual reception of the canon in the early Church.
Upon examining the writings of the early Church Fathers, scholars have come to formulate a position called the “coinherence of Church and Scripture.” That is, for the early Fathers, kerygma, Scripture, and tradition fully coincide (p. 270). Oberman then enumerates the following as characteristics of the coinherence position. First, Scripture and tradition coinhere in the “living, visible Body of Christ, inspired and vivified by the operation of the Holy Spirit” (p. 271). Here one must understand that the coinherence is not merely on the level of source (Scripture) and interpretation (tradition), but that Scripture and tradition flow from the same source, viz., the Word of God. Second, both find their common basis in the work of the Holy Spirit through whom both the fides quae creditur (the content of faith; faith objectively considered) and the fides qua creditur (the faith of the believer; faith subjectively considered) are held together (p. 271). Third, “tradition is not understood as an addition to the kerygma contained in Scripture, but either as the handing down of that same kerygma in living form, or as Revelation itself. This implies for the Fathers the explicit denial of extra-scriptural tradition” (p. 271). Moreover, this proclamation can only be safely handed down within the Church. For Irenaeus, the handing down of the truth is identified with episcopal succession (…qui cum episcopatus successione charisma veritatis certum secundum placitum Patris accepereunt,” Adv. Haereses 4.26; p. 271). However, Irenaeus understands the episcopal witness as a derived witness whose “function is to preserve the integrity and totality of the original Apostolic witness. To this end the canon was formed” (p. 271). Oberman adds that the coinherence of Scripture and Church does not equate to an “amorphous organism.” In other words, the Church is distinguished by her instrumental role of receiving and preserving the Apostolic deposit—a deposit which was understood as containing the original kerygma in toto (pp. 271-272). Lastly, Oberman mentions briefly the relation of oral and written tradition with a view as to how modern Roman Catholic theology understands this relation. Form criticism has of course brought to our attention the fact that the scriptures which the Church received as canonical are “the product of a geographically differentiated and complex interplay of oral and later, written traditions.” Given these findings, Oberman highlights two observations made by modern Roman Catholic theologians: “(1) The canon constitutes a snapshot of a multidimensional living tradition. (2) This document from the early Church has the drawback of being only two-dimensional.” In other words, it represents an ossified part of the living tradition and therefore cannot communicate the fullness of the living Church. Current contemporary Roman Catholic theologians employ the distinction real and verbal in order to make this observation explicit (p. 272).
Next, Oberman focuses on two of the earliest Latin Fathers, who wrote near the end of the second century, Irenaeus and Tertullian. According to Irenaeus, the rule of faith (regula fidei or regula veritatis) “is faithfully preserved by the apostolic Church and has found multiform expression in the canonical books (Adv. Haeres. II.41.4). Here we have an unbroken stream in the movement from preached kerygma to the written Scriptures or what we might call the inscripturated apostolic proclamation. This written proclamation then serves as the foundation of the faith (Adv. Haeres. III.1.1). Though Irenaeus no doubt places great emphasis on episcopal succession, at this stage of church history one should not interpret Irenaeus as suggesting that episcopal succession “constitute[s] a channel of oral tradition which would stand alongside Scripture as a second source of revelation” (p. 273, emphasis added). The task of these successors to the Apostles was to faithfully preserve the kerygmic proclamation until canonization was complete. For Irenaeus, there is complete identity between the rule of faith received by the Apostles and the rule of faith received in his own day in the apostolic writings as handed down by the bishops. In addition, recent scholarly findings have made manifest that the regula fidei as employed by Irenaeus, Tertullian, and Clement of Alexandria is not to be interpreted as rule for faith. “The regula fidei is the rule constituted by faith or truth: the historical facts of God’s action in creation and redemption” (p. 273). Neither is the regula fidei to be understood as an authoritative interpretation of Holy Scripture, nor should it been seen as identical to the Creed. The regula fidei is revelation itself and forms the structure of Holy Scripture, whereas, “the Creed is a confession of the historical reality of the acts of God in creation and redemption” (p. 273).
According to Oberman, the distinction made by contemporary Roman Catholic theologians between real and verbal tradition cannot be maintained here since Irenaeus “identifies truth and reality. The reality which we perceive with our eyes is the same as the reality to which the kerygma pertains” (p. 273).
When we turn to Tertullian (and Cyprian) we find a strong distinction made between tradition as preserved in the canon and human traditions (consuetudines). Tertullian, of course, is often pictured as one with a strong anti-intellectual bent, who made it his mission to condemn philosophy. However, as Oberman points out, Tertullian’s vitriolic remarks against e.g., Aristotle as a heretic, is not a wholesale rejection of reason or even philosophy, but of philosophy used as a second source of revelation. For Tertullian, nothing need be added to the apostolic deposit of faith. Oberman closes this section by stating that, “[f]or this period it is not relevant to insist on the usual distinction between active tradition, the act of handing down, and passive tradition, the content of what is handed down. Tradition corresponds at once with fides quae, the articles of faith and fides qua, the act of faith. Tradition is not only divine in content and origin but also in its providential path through history. This can be stressed to the degree that we are forced to translate tradition with ‘revelation’ and tradere with ‘to reveal’” (p. 275).
