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200 years later, the Church still won’t capitulate to secularism
By Dorothy Cummings McLean
September 5, 2012
Dorothy Cummings McLean
The news that Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini, a former archbishop of Milan, has died has swept the secular media of the world. It would be touching that non-Catholics are taking so much notice of a retired archbishop, except that their focus is on Cardinal Martini’s supposed opposition to Catholic doctrine. It is alleged, among other things, that he advocated the use of condoms. This is not true, but it is obvious that the secular press wants us to believe, and perhaps itself believes, that it is true.
Cardinal Martini was a leading Italian intellectual, a biblical scholar who also wrote books on the spiritual exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola. Himself a Jesuit, Cardinal Martini was spoken of affectionately by Jesuits and students of Jesuits around the world. He was famous throughout Italy for his public conversations with other intellectuals, including novellist Umberto Eco. In the 1990s, the Corriere della Sera published the correspondence between Cardinal Martini and Eco as it unfolded, Eco writing as a curious unbeliever, and Cardinal Martini as a defender and teacher of Catholic doctrine. Their letters have been translated and published in a single volume called Belief or Nonbelief.
Unfortunately, the admiration many Catholics held for Cardinal Martini, his defence of Catholic doctrines and his scholarship are at risk due to remarks he made to a fellow Jesuit shortly before he died. The comment the BBC — among other secular institutions not particularly sympathetic to the Roman Catholic Church — has seized upon is La Chiesa è rimansta indietro di 200 anni. The translation changes from paper to paper, but I think my teacher at Loretto Abbey would approve “The Church is 200 years behind.”
If you wish to read Cardinal Martini’s final interview without the distorted lense of the secular media, it is available in the online Corriere della Sera. Hopefully there will soon be a good, scholarly account of Cardinal Martini’s life and work, so that his legacy is not forever clouded by the wishful thinking of a secular media ever on the hunt for a good “Cardinal bites Church” story. Meanwhile, I wish to say that although the Church, thank God, is not wedded to the spirit of our age, it is certainly not what it was 200 years ago.
Two hundred years ago, 1812, the ecclesiastical structures of several Catholic states had been smashed by the aftermath of the French Revolution, and then controlled by Napoleon Bonaparte. The army of the anti-Catholic, revolutionary French army had invaded the Papal States in 1798 and taken Pius VI prisoner. The Pope was carted around Italy and finally imprisoned in France where he died in 1799. The French revolutionary elite hailed this as the death of the “last of the popes” and began hatching a plot to prevent the election of any other future popes. The body was left unburied for months.
But the dying Pius VI had left instructions for a conclave, and those members of the College of Cardinals — penniless, terrorized, under pressure from opposed European political powers — who could, met in Venice in 1800 and elected a Benedictine monk. Pius VII was crowned with a papier-mâché version of the traditional (and now surplus) triple tiara, for the French had looted the original.
The conclave was, because of the difficult circumstances of wartorn Europe, almost entirely Italian. The cardinals were, because of the social structures of 18th-century Europe, aristocrats. Pius VI himself was an Italian aristocrat and might have found it funny that 206 years later his successor would be the son of a Bavarian police officer.
The spiritual role of the Church was still wedded to the temporal role of the Church, as ruler of the Papal States it eventually, if temporarily, reclaimed. The Church wheeled and dealed constantly with the great European powers. Pius VII spent the first 15 years of his pontificate struggling for the Church against Napoleon. He too was taken prisoner; in 1812 Pius VII was dragged, a very sick man, over the Alps into France.
Given the affection we ordinary Catholics have for our popes, it seems strange that the popes of 200 years ago were so vulnerable to secular attack. But 200 years ago, ordinary Catholics didn’t think that much about their popes — let alone retired archbishops of Milan — who were, after all, very far away. Popes did not have international celebrity status until Pius IX. Imagine the outcry if John Paul II had been left unburied, or if the EU took Benedict XVI prisoner.
Given that the Church of 2012 is so different from that of 1812, Cardinal Martini’s remark about “200 years” seems careless and forgetful.
Of course, the modern Church does remain like the Church of 1812 in several respects. One of them is her refusal to capitulate to secular forces that hate her.
Cardinal Martini was a leading Italian intellectual, a biblical scholar who also wrote books on the spiritual exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola. Himself a Jesuit, Cardinal Martini was spoken of affectionately by Jesuits and students of Jesuits around the world. He was famous throughout Italy for his public conversations with other intellectuals, including novellist Umberto Eco. In the 1990s, the Corriere della Sera published the correspondence between Cardinal Martini and Eco as it unfolded, Eco writing as a curious unbeliever, and Cardinal Martini as a defender and teacher of Catholic doctrine. Their letters have been translated and published in a single volume called Belief or Nonbelief.
Unfortunately, the admiration many Catholics held for Cardinal Martini, his defence of Catholic doctrines and his scholarship are at risk due to remarks he made to a fellow Jesuit shortly before he died. The comment the BBC — among other secular institutions not particularly sympathetic to the Roman Catholic Church — has seized upon is La Chiesa è rimansta indietro di 200 anni. The translation changes from paper to paper, but I think my teacher at Loretto Abbey would approve “The Church is 200 years behind.”
If you wish to read Cardinal Martini’s final interview without the distorted lense of the secular media, it is available in the online Corriere della Sera. Hopefully there will soon be a good, scholarly account of Cardinal Martini’s life and work, so that his legacy is not forever clouded by the wishful thinking of a secular media ever on the hunt for a good “Cardinal bites Church” story. Meanwhile, I wish to say that although the Church, thank God, is not wedded to the spirit of our age, it is certainly not what it was 200 years ago.
Two hundred years ago, 1812, the ecclesiastical structures of several Catholic states had been smashed by the aftermath of the French Revolution, and then controlled by Napoleon Bonaparte. The army of the anti-Catholic, revolutionary French army had invaded the Papal States in 1798 and taken Pius VI prisoner. The Pope was carted around Italy and finally imprisoned in France where he died in 1799. The French revolutionary elite hailed this as the death of the “last of the popes” and began hatching a plot to prevent the election of any other future popes. The body was left unburied for months.
But the dying Pius VI had left instructions for a conclave, and those members of the College of Cardinals — penniless, terrorized, under pressure from opposed European political powers — who could, met in Venice in 1800 and elected a Benedictine monk. Pius VII was crowned with a papier-mâché version of the traditional (and now surplus) triple tiara, for the French had looted the original.
The conclave was, because of the difficult circumstances of wartorn Europe, almost entirely Italian. The cardinals were, because of the social structures of 18th-century Europe, aristocrats. Pius VI himself was an Italian aristocrat and might have found it funny that 206 years later his successor would be the son of a Bavarian police officer.
The spiritual role of the Church was still wedded to the temporal role of the Church, as ruler of the Papal States it eventually, if temporarily, reclaimed. The Church wheeled and dealed constantly with the great European powers. Pius VII spent the first 15 years of his pontificate struggling for the Church against Napoleon. He too was taken prisoner; in 1812 Pius VII was dragged, a very sick man, over the Alps into France.
Given the affection we ordinary Catholics have for our popes, it seems strange that the popes of 200 years ago were so vulnerable to secular attack. But 200 years ago, ordinary Catholics didn’t think that much about their popes — let alone retired archbishops of Milan — who were, after all, very far away. Popes did not have international celebrity status until Pius IX. Imagine the outcry if John Paul II had been left unburied, or if the EU took Benedict XVI prisoner.
Given that the Church of 2012 is so different from that of 1812, Cardinal Martini’s remark about “200 years” seems careless and forgetful.
Of course, the modern Church does remain like the Church of 1812 in several respects. One of them is her refusal to capitulate to secular forces that hate her.
Dorothy Cummings McLean