Chapter 15: Vatican Council
When the Council of Trent had completed its work in 1563, the world was fast becoming a new place in which to live. Within less than forty years, the new era would clearly overtake the human race. Today we speak of this as the Baroque Period (roughly from 1600 to 1750). A new spirit grew out of the Renaissance - a spirit of unrest, of progress, of grandiose ideals. It was the period of Louis XIV, of Newton and Galileo, of Descartes and Spinoza - all men who were to leave their mark upon "modern" civilization, for better or for worse.
In the life of the Church, this was a period of great reform - the Counter Reformation - during which men attempted to regain the ground lost by the revolt of the Protestant countries. It was the age of Bellarmine and Suarez, of Francis de Sales; it was the time when Milton and Moliere came into prominence, the period of Rembrandt and Rubens, of Monteverdi and then of Bach. But this was also the age of the religious wars, of Gallicanism, and of widespread colonization.
Out of this conflict, however, there arose a second era which we now refer to as the Classic Period (more or less from 1750 to 1820). This came more as a reaction to the extremes of the post-Reformation period. It was a time of greater calm, when men turned once again to the ideals of the ancient Greeks - to the objective viewpoint, the emotional restraint, the clarity of form that they felt was expressed there. With this, however, there also came a greater emphasis upon man's intellectual strength; reason became king. Voltaire, Hume, and Kant reigned supreme; Mozart and Haydn attempted to express this spirit in music. The national spirit began to evidence itself, signified by the French Revolution, the Napoleonic Wars, the Declaration of Independence, and the American Revolution.
Even within the Church, this spirit of the "Enlightenment" became apparent. Reason tended to be overemphasized, and antiquity was idealized far beyond what it deserved. In 1794 a number of bishops, imbued with this spirit, gathered together at Pistoia, in Italy. This illegal synod attempted to promulgate decrees that failed to give due place to the visible Church, and which overemphasized the practices of antiquity; it was condemned by Pope Pius VI.
Finally, in the past century, we can distinguish the spirit of Romanticism (1820-1900), a further reaction to the cold intellectualism of the Classic Period. Men discovered once again that man is a living creature with emotions, with a heart. Life became the center of interest - the individual, the nation. The imagination took precedence over the intellect. While Beethoven, Brahms, Wagner, Tchaikovsky, Verdi gave vent to this spirit in music, Dickens, Goethe, Victor Hugo, Longfellow, and Poe expressed it in literature; Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, and Hegel introduced it to philosophy.
This was the Victorian Age but it was also destined to be the age of science. Perhaps the most convenient peg for this period is the publication of Charles Darwin's Origin of Species in 1859. Science had continued its development, and many felt that Darwin was the prophet of an entirely new era; some felt that this period marked a turning point in history: the end of religion and the reign of the scientific. While nothing so radical actually took place, these advances do exercise a tremendous influence on our present-day world.
Throughout all of these centuries, the Church had witnessed no other General Council. The decrees of Trent remained the law of the day, completed by the decrees of the Roman pontiffs. This last age, however, was to bring forth the twentieth General Council as an answer to the extreme rationalism and religious doubt that had been developing ever since the Revolt, and which came to a head in the nineteenth century.
The days of Luther and Calvin, of course, were numbered; Protestantism came rather soon to look upon them more as symbols of a movement than as religious teachers, in the accepted sense. The first Protestant creeds (such as the Augsburg Confession) became the norm or rule of Protestant faith; this is referred to currently as "Protestant Scholasticism." There was no longer an infallible teaching authority in a visible Church, but the Protestant notion of an "infallible Bible" had also proved wanting. The disagreements among Protestant groups were too apparent to be ignored. Thus these various creeds became the norm for the interpretation of Scripture; they took the place of the infallible Church rejected in the sixteenth century.
There were many revolts against this tendency, resulting in the formation of newer Protestant sects who chose as their starting point a return to the Bible itself. After Kant and the great emphasis upon reason in the Classic Period, however, the picture began to change more radically. The Enlightenment had so exalted human reason that it felt able to cast revelation aside; revealed truths were supposedly truths beyond the grasp of human reason, and this was unacceptable. Kant entered into the dispute in an effort to save faith and revelation, but his defense sowed the seed of further difficulties.
Kant accepted many of the conclusions of the men he opposed; he set out, therefore, to make a fresh start. When he had finished, there was no room in his system for the power of the human mind to know God by reason alone. In place of this, Kant had introduced the notion of an approach to God from within man himself. The inner experience of man was the important element.
It only remained for Schleiermacher to adapt this teaching to religion, and this came under the guise of a certain religious "feeling" or "affection." All religion was to be based primarily on some sort of inner awareness of God and the supernatural. Thus it was no longer the Church, nor the Bible, nor the Protestant Creeds that would determine man's belief, but only this inner experience, man himself. When Schleiermacher died in 1834, the stage was set for the errors of the nineteenth century that would demand another General Council.
To this notion of inner experience outlined by Schleiermacher, there was added a new approach to the Bible, known as biblical criticism. The Bible (no less than the teaching of the Church) was now to appear as an expression of the inner feeling of the Christian community. Thus the Bible had a gradual history, and upon occasion it even contradicted itself, depending upon the different "experiences" of the various communities. When this was combined with the main thought of the nineteenth century - that of evolution - Protestantism was faced with a full theory of the "evolution of doctrine" as a purely natural process. Christian faith was, in other words, nothing more than the end product of this experience of the community; it was a changing thing, and when the creeds no longer expressed properly the "present experience," the creeds should be changed. It is this line of thought that leads modern Protestantism to deny such basic truths as the virgin birth or even the divinity of Christ.
Ultimately this movement was to result in the nineteenth-century Liberalism of Harnack, for example, and in present-day Modernism. It is difficult to distinguish between these two. If we can at all, we might say that Liberalism began with the Christian tradition and made an attempt to adjust it to the new and changing world. Modernism, however, starts with the scientific method and investigates faith on that basis, more or less permitting traditional beliefs to take care of themselves as best they can. In neither instance, however, do we still retain a true Christian faith, a supernatural revelation of divine truths.
The Vatican Council stands out as the Church's greatest answer to the beginnings of this Liberal movement. About 1864, Pope Pius IX indicated his intention of summoning a General Council, the first in 300 years. Shortly after that, he issued an encyclical (Quanta cura) and a "Syllabus of Errors," both condemning the teachings of the modern rationalists and socialists. These, in turn, reflected earlier condemnations of the teachings of individual men. Gregory XVI, for example, had condemned Hermes in 1835 for his unwarranted exaltation of human reason, and Beautain, later on, for teaching that human reason could know about God only after revelation and faith.
In 1857, Pius IX himself had condemned the false rationalism of Gunther, and the errors that resulted from it; and in 1862 he had condemned Frohschammer for similar teachings. These were all signs of an unhealthy acceptance within the Church of the errors developing in the Protestant thought of that day. They had to be stopped, and it was the Pope's desire that the forthcoming Council complete this task.
More time was needed to prepare this Council, however. In 1865, the Pope sought the views of a number of bishops concerning the advisability of a Council; the matter was as yet kept secret. In 1867, however, Pius IX announced his intentions publicly, and a congregation of cardinals began the work of preparing the decrees to be submitted to the Council.
To assist in this work, about 100 theologians from Rome and elsewhere in the world were associated with the cardinals. Some subcommittees were formed to discuss particular questions: doctrine; ecclesiastical and political matters; the missions and church reunion; church discipline; ceremonial; and religious orders. In this, the Vatican Council differed somewhat from Trent. At Trent the so-called minor theologians worked at the same time that the bishops held their discussions; it was hoped the work of the theologians would be finished, as far as possible, before the Council itself began.
In June of 1868, the Pope issued a solemn decree, convoking the Council and declaring that it should open on December 8, 1869. At this point, there was no special mention of the definition of papal infallibility. Nevertheless, the question was being debated at that time, and, long before the Council officially opened, the periodicals of the world were alive with discussion. The central question was whether such a definition would make the position of the Church more secure in the modern world, or prove a threat to its security.
Those who favored the definition were much concerned with the rise of Nationalism in those days, the ever recurring wars. There was a possibility that the Pope might be taken captive and exiled. They felt, therefore, that this definition would spell out more clearly the full authority the Pope would possess regardless.
Others, however, had fears that this was not the expedient thing to do. The world was so upset that this seemed to be an unwise move, inviting further disputes with the rationalists of the age. There were also some who apparently did not believe in papal infallibility - those who later left the Catholic Church when the doctrine was defined by the Council. The entire world, however, had witnessed the exercise of this papal infallibility in 1854, when Pius IX had solemnly defined the dogma of the Immaculate Conception; some 576 bishops had responded to the inquiry of the Pope before he took this step. What was being debated now was mostly a question of the expediency of the solemn definition of this papal infallibility.
The preconciliar discussion resulted from the "speculation" of the various newspapers concerning what would be treated at the Council. The result was a heated debate on the matter of defining this dogma. The foremost leader of those who considered the definition as not expedient at that time was Bishop Dupanloup of Orleans in France; Archbishop Deschamps and Cardinal Manning were strong supporters of the definition.
In Germany, however, a professor of history at the University of Munich, Ignaz Dollinger, was strongly opposed to the definition. He based his position on reason and history, and in doing so he lost sight of the infallible teaching authority of the Church. When the dogma was finally defined, Dollinger refused to accept the doctrine, and was eventually excommunicated. In 1871, he gathered about him a number of similar-minded men who spoke out against the "impudence and ignorance of Rome"; some of them set about forming a religious group of their own. They proposed to follow nothing but Scripture and tradition, and for them "tradition" meant history.
While these disputes continued, the work of the Commissions went on at Rome. The Council opened, as planned, in December of 1869; more than 700 bishops attended in all. They came from literally all over the world, so that considering the large number and the areas the bishops represented, the Vatican Council was surely the most outwardly "general" Council ever held. The meetings took place in the right transept of St. Peter's Basilica.
Pius IX had established the procedure to be followed. The preparatory Commissions were to issue the result of their labor - a so-called Schema, which amounted to a suggested form for the definitions. These were printed and distributed to all the bishops. They had from eight to ten days to make in writing any observations they desired; these were turned in to what were known as the "Deputations." There were five of these, one which dealt with new topics to be suggested, and four others concerned with questions of faith, of discipline, of religious orders, and of the missions and Oriental rites. Actually, only the "Deputation of Faith" came into real prominence in the sessions; the Council had to be terminated before the other projects could be discussed. The preparatory work proved valuable, however, in later works of the Church, especially in the codification of Church Law in 1918.
The "Deputation" would decide if a particular suggestion were necessary or pertinent; the final decisions of the "Deputation" were ratified by the general assembly. It was in the so-called "General Congregations" (the ordinary meetings of the bishops), that the bishops discussed all matters. Every bishop was free to express his view; he had only to ask for a time when he might talk. As a result, over 420 speeches were given; about one fourth of them concerned infallibility.
These discussions labored under two handicaps. For one, the acoustics of St. Peter's left much to be desired. This problem was solved somewhat by the printing of the schemata and the suggested changes, but it was difficult to hear the speaker at times. In addition, Latin was the language spoken, and it was soon realized that the Latin pronunciation of the various nationalities was so varied that many could not understand the other bishops at all.
What was said at these General Congregations (there were about 89 in all) resulted in further changes in the decree being discussed. The suggested changes were distributed to all, and then one of the members of the particular "Deputation" concerned would explain the reasons why the "Deputation" either chose to accept or to reject the suggestion; after this a vote of the entire assembly would be taken on their decisions. It was in this regard that Archbishop Gasser became a prominent figure in the Council, since he spoke most often for the "Deputation of Faith."
When all had agreed on the final form, a public session was held. All the faithful were admitted to St. Peter's for these four public sessions: the opening session, and one for a profession of faith; and two at which the two decrees of the Council were formally promulgated - one in April and one in July of 1870.
Soon after the Council opened, the first draft of the decree on faith was distributed to the bishops. This was a long document, very complicated in nature; it evoked a great deal of discussion, lasting until January 10. It was then handed over once again to the "Deputation of Faith" to be revised. Toward the end of February, a greatly shortened version was ready; it included only the first part of the original version, four chapters in all. These touched on God the Creator, on revelation, on faith, and on the relationship between faith and reason. The discussion on this new version began on March 14, 1870, and lasted until April 12; for the most part, it was a rather calm and systematic discussion.
The final vote was taken on April 12, and on the 24th of that month the dogmatic constitution Dei Filius was solemnly promulgated in the third public session of the Council. The attention then turned officially to the question of papal infallibility. Unofficially, it had already become the dominant theme. During the very first months of the Council, suggestions had been sent to the "Deputations," asking that the matter of papal infallibility be treated; the discussions of the previous years indicated the need of this. Public discussion at the Council, however, was sidetracked until the decree on Faith had been settled.
Nevertheless, in January of 1870, the bishops had been presented with a schema on the Church. This was also a very lengthy document, treating of the nature of the Church, of the Pope, and of Church-State relations. This schema was indiscreetly passed on to certain periodicals, and this further complicated the matter; even the civil governments, who had not taken part in the Council at all, now became somewhat concerned over this proposed decree.
In the original schema, there was no mention of a definition of papal infallibility. Because of the desires of many bishops within the Council, however, a new section dealing with this question was added to the suggested schema. When the schema reached the open discussion stage, only one section was actually proposed - that on the Pope. The Council had broken up before the remainder of the decree on the nature of the Church could be treated.
Within the Council, the same divisions appeared that had been apparent in the periodicals. There were those bishops who thought that papal infallibility should be defined, and those who thought it was inopportune. It is important to remember that, at this time, papal infallibility was accepted throughout the Church. The heretical teachings of Constance and Basel were now ignored. The French clergy had issued a declaration in 1682 - the Gallican Decree - which had failed to give due place to the position of the Roman Pontiff; but by this time the decree had been set aside even in France. The opposition was based for the most part on the "spirit of the times," claiming that this made the definition ill-advised, and only invited further troubles. Actually, when the definition was issued, these effects which had been so feared failed to materialize generally; it was mostly an error in judgment in this regard.
The disputes continued within the Council both in private and in public; it was often a heated debate, and eventually a tiresome one also. In January, 1870, some 135 bishops indicated that they were opposed to placing the question of infallibility in the schema at that time; 27 of the 40 Americans were included in this group. The majority ruled, however. The discussions continued from January to April in private, and in the general sessions from April until July. Some attempts had been made to have the issue set aside while the Council was still debating the decree on Faith. But Pope Pius IX was insistent by now that the matter be treated. The reaction of some outspoken individuals outside the Council only confirmed the opinion of most of the bishops that the question had to be settled at once.
By March of 1870 it was decided, with the approval of the Pope, that the question be raised officially. On March 6 the bishops received an addition to the schema on the Church which proposed the dogma of papal infallibility. On May 9 the final constitution to be discussed was distributed to the bishops, and the debate began in the formal sessions.
This new version, vastly different from the very first one, contained only the section on the Roman Pontiff. It consisted of a preamble and four chapters, and included a solemn definition of papal infallibility. It had been reworked by the "Deputation of Faith" and the theologians who were serving as consultants.
By June 3, enough bishops wanted to close the debate to bring this about. The other sections of the decree were then discussed, and the final decree fashioned. By July 13 a final vote on the matter could be taken. This was the eighty-fifth session of the Council; 601 bishops were present; 451 voted in favor of the decree, 88 voted against it, and 62 voted in favor, provided that suggested corrections were made.
The fact that one fourth of the bishops had voted against the decree, or had at least limited their approval, caused considerable disturbance. Among this one fourth there were some very big names. It was clear, however, that the matter would be defined, and those who thought it inopportune chose the plan of quietly leaving Rome; in this way, they would not have to vote publicly against the decree.
When the final vote was taken on July 18, there were 535 bishops who voted in favor of the decree; two voted against it: Bishop Riccio of Sicily and Bishop Fitzgerald of Little Rock, Arkansas. These two immediately submitted to the new definition of the Church; the other bishops who had left Rome did so in the months that followed. In this way the Council answered the rationalists of the nineteenth century. These liberals had denied faith and stability in belief; the Church defined its precise notion of faith, and added to that its position on the doctrinal stability associated with the Roman Pontiff.
The next day - July 19 - the imperial government in Paris declared war on Prussia, and, for all practical purposes, this marked the end of the Council. The bishops had to leave, and only those from distant sees remained, in addition to the Italians. The number at the sessions went down from 136 to 127 to 104.
On September 20 the city of Rome had been invaded, and on October 9 the city had voted to join the Kingdom of Italy. Under these conditions, the Council could not continue, and any suggestions to move it to another city were set aside. Finally on October 20, 1870, the Council was temporarily suspended without being dissolved until a later but unspecified date. It was never reconvened after the death of Pius IX in 1878.
The Vatican Council had, nevertheless, achieved its primary goal and strengthened the Church by establishing a secure line of action for the even more difficult century that lay ahead.