Nevertheless, despite this strong reaffirmation of traditional Catholic teaching, Amoris Laetitia was introduced to the world as a harbinger of change in the Church’s pastoral ministry. At the press conference introducing the apostolic exhortation, Cardinal Christoph Schönborn of Vienna declared, “Something has changed in ecclesial discourse,” emphasizing the pope’s call for pastoral flexibility.
The focus of public attention on the Church’s handling of “irregular” marital unions has itself been a sign of the need for a different approach, Schönborn said, arguing that the division of couples into “regular” and “irregular” overlooks the reality that all Christians should be striving for daily conversion and growth in holiness.
Though Schönborn had been counted as a supporter of the Kasper proposal in the Synod meetings, he did not initially depict Amoris Laetitia as an endorsement of that position. (Later he would state that the papal document called for a change in the Church’s practice.) He told Vatican Radio that in the critical footnote 351—“In certain cases, this can include the help of the sacraments”—the pope was referring primarily to the sacrament of confession. “I think it is very clear,” the cardinal said, “there are circumstances in which people in irregular situations may really need sacramental absolution, even if their general situation cannot be clarified.”
The final verdict of the apostolic exhortation on the issue that has been most heavily debated thus remains imprecise. Evidently the pope wishes it so, explaining that “what is part of a practical discernment in particular circumstances cannot be elevated to the level of a rule. That would not only lead to an intolerable casuistry, but would endanger the very values which must be preserved with special care.”
Amoris Laetitia is not a revolutionary document. It is a subversive one. Francis has not overthrown the traditional teachings of the Church, as many Catholics hoped or feared that he would. Instead he has carved out ample room for a flexible pastoral interpretation of those teachings, encouraging pastors to help couples apply general moral principles to their specific circumstances. Unfortunately, this approach has accelerated an already powerful trend to dismiss the Church’s perennial teaching, eroding respect for the pastoral ministry he hopes to encourage.
In his landmark 1993 encyclical Veritatis Splendor, written to counter the influence of moral relativism, St. John Paul II laments the widespread dissent from the Church’s moral teachings: “It is no longer a matter of limited and occasional dissent, but of an overall and systematic calling into question of traditional moral doctrines, on the basis of certain anthropological and ethical presuppositions.” Dissident Catholics, he explains, are not merely making erroneous statements about the truth; they are suggesting that objective truth cannot be known. Amoris Laetitia, focusing on the subjective pursuit of an unreachable ideal and suggesting a process by which Catholic couples could set aside the Lord’s commandment against adultery, contributes to the centrifugal forces that are straining the authority of the Church.
In a 250-Page Document, the Focus on a Footnote
There is sound spiritual guidance in Amoris Laetitia. Particularly in the two central chapters that the pope himself identifies as its core, he shows his true character as a pastor: encouraging, guiding, questioning, cajoling, sympathizing, instructing, helping readers to gain a deeper appreciation for the Church’s understanding of sacramental marriage. He upholds the ideal of Christian marriage, recognizes that no human being lives up to that ideal, and offers the support of the Church to all who are willing to engage in the lifelong struggle to grow in love.
Still, it is noteworthy that Francis emphasizes that the Christian teaching on marriage is an ideal that ordinary couples cannot expect to attain. The Church’s teaching is an “ideal,” certainly, insofar as it calls husband and wife to live in a perfect harmony of love, in imitation of Christ and his Church. But the demand for marital fidelity is not an unattainable ideal. Most couples meet that demand, and those who do not—those who cheat on their spouses—should recognize that their failure is a serious transgression, not just a reminder that they are human. It is true that Jesus declined to condemn the woman caught in adultery, but he also warned her, “Go, and sin no more” (John 8:11).
In Amoris Laetitia the pope recognizes, and clearly states, that the Christian understanding of marriage is the only reliable antidote to a host of ills that plague contemporary society, especially in the West. In the second chapter, he insists that in an epidemic of marital breakdown, Catholics must not be deterred from delivering the message that our society needs to hear, even though that message is unpopular and those who proclaim it face mounting hostility. There are even a few echoes of the “culture wars” in this apostolic exhortation, as Francis unequivocally confirms the Church’s stands on abortion, contraception, divorce, homosexuality, and same-sex marriage.
Unfortunately, those sections of the document—its strongest—are not what have commanded public attention. The news coverage has focused on a single question. Although it is unfortunate that a complex message would be reduced to one issue, the single-minded coverage has not been entirely the fault of the mass media. Francis has himself to blame.
First, Amoris Laetitia is much too long. By publishing such a prolix document, the Holy Father increased the power of the intermediaries who, boiling it down for their readers, focus on that single issue.
Second, Francis himself encouraged the discussion of Communion for divorced-and-remarried Catholics, a discussion that was certain to become inflamed. To this day we do not know exactly what the Kasper proposal entails. The German cardinal proposed a “penitential path” by which divorced-and-remarried Catholics might be guided back to full communion, but he did not specify what that path would be. Nor do we know, even after the release of Amoris Laetitia, exactly what the pope has in mind for these couples, aside from a flexible and sympathetic pastoral approach.
The pope writes that in providing spiritual care for couples in irregular unions, pastors should adapt the general principles of Church teaching to particular circumstances: “It is a matter of reaching out to everyone, of needing to help each person find his or her proper way of participating in the ecclesial community and thus to experience being touched by an ‘unmerited, unconditional and gratuitous’ mercy” (297). Thus far his advice is unassailable. But in what cases would the pastor be justified in telling a couple that they should not feel bound by the laws of the Church—laws that reflect not mere arbitrary rules but divine commands? What sort of concrete circumstances would justify a break from the teaching—enunciated by Jesus Christ—that someone who leaves one spouse to live with another is engaged in an adulterous union?
There are, certainly, some circumstances in which the Church condones a second marital union. If a first marriage is annulled, the parties are free to remarry; and Francis has already streamlined the procedures for annulments, making it less likely that anyone who ought to receive an annulment will be denied. It is also possible, as St. John Paul II taught in Familiaris Consortio, for a divorced and remarried couple to be admitted to Communion if they agree to live as brother and sister. It is revealing that in the text of his lengthy apostolic exhortation, Francis never mentions the possibility of a couple’s demonstrating their commitment to the Faith by abstaining from sexual relations. (The possibility is mentioned in a footnote, but the reader is left with the distinct impression that such discipline is to be discouraged.) Is that particular “penitential path,” the one traditionally offered to Catholic couples in irregular unions, no longer worth discussing?
It is no secret that in some parts of the Catholic world, priests and pastors have already begun quietly to encourage divorced-and-remarried couples to receive Communion. In some places, particularly in the German-speaking world, lax pastoral practices are becoming the norm. Insofar as Amoris Laetitia encourages this practice, the vagueness of the pope’s guidance undercuts the universality of Catholic teaching and discipline. After the publication of t
he apostolic exhortation, the German bishops quickly announced that they were ready to offer Communion to divorced-and-remarried couples, while the bishops of neighboring Poland were adamant that they would not. Robert Royal remarked:
On one side of a border between two countries, Communion for the divorced and remarried would now become a sign of a new outpouring of God’s mercy and forgiveness. On the other side, giving Communion to someone in “irregular” circumstances remains infidelity to Christ’s words and, potentially, a sacrilege. In concrete terms, around the globe, what looms ahead is chaos and conflict, not Catholicity.
Francis downplays the importance of such conflicts in his apostolic exhortation—“not all discussions of doctrinal, moral, or pastoral issues need to be settled by interventions of the magisterium.” True enough. But when the Magisterium does intervene, it is vitally important that that intervention be clear. The pope is a pastor, to be sure. But he is also a teacher—particularly when he is issuing an apostolic exhortation—and a teacher should be clear on matters of principle.
When, during another in-flight press conference, Francis was pressed about the meaning of footnote 351, surely the most contentious footnote in the recent history of the Church, he replied that he did not recall it. That answer strained credulity. Was the pope asking us to believe that he was unaware of the controversy? That he had forgotten the only words in his apostolic exhortation that directly addressed the most hotly contested question of the past two years? Had the fateful footnote been slipped in by an aide when Francis was not paying attention? Or was the pontiff struggling to preserve what American politicians call “plausible deniability,” leaving it to others to draw out the implications of his work? Any one of those possibilities would reflect poorly on the pope.
That Francis was unaware of the contentious footnote is the least plausible explanation of his unwillingness to discuss it. His resort to such a transparent evasion suggested that he was not prepared to defend the argument that he had advanced in his own document. Had he expected the footnote to pass unnoticed? Or had he hoped that he could avoid any comment on the controversy and let others apply their own interpretations to his ambiguous teaching?
Unofficial Interpretations, Contradictory Readings
Father Antonio Spadaro, one of the pope’s closest associates, issued his own pronouncement on the meaning of Amoris Laetitia in April 2016 in La Civiltà Cattolica. The pope, he declared, had removed restrictions on the access of divorced-and-remarried Catholics to the Sacraments. That interpretation, which directly contradicts the assertion that the pope had made no major changes, was notable because of its source. La Civiltà Cattolica is regarded as semi-authoritative because its contents are approved in advance by the Holy See’s Secretariat of State. Spadaro, moreover, works closely with Francis as adviser and translator and reportedly helped to draft the apostolic exhortation.
The Vatican newspaper, L’Osservatore Romano, also weighed in, giving front-page placement to an essay by Rocco Buttiglione—a widely respected Italian philosopher, politician, and adviser to St. John Paul II—in support of the argument that Catholics who are divorced and remarried might, under some circumstances, receive Communion. Reasoning that the Catholic Church has always recognized the possibility that individual circumstances determine whether or not someone is in a state of sin, Buttiglione writes:
The path that the Pope proposes to divorced and remarried is exactly the same that the Church proposes to all sinners: Go to confession, and your confessor, after evaluating all the circumstances, will decide whether to absolve you and admit you to the Eucharist or not.
Buttiglione posits a case in which, he says, a confessor might justifiably instruct a divorced and remarried person to receive the Eucharist. A woman, abandoned by her first husband, marries again, has children, and then returns to the practice of the Faith. She herself might be willing to abstain from sexual activity, but her new partner, insisting on his marital rights, threatens to leave her—and their children—if she does not share his bed. The risk of breaking up the family, which would seriously harm the children, is unacceptable, Buttiglione argues, so the woman is not at fault for consenting to intercourse and should be admitted to Communion. But there are three glaring problems with this scenario.
First, Christ himself taught that if a woman “divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery” (Mark 10:12). If the confessor admitted this woman to Communion, wouldn’t he be saying that adultery can be justified in some circumstances? It is a fundamental moral principle that certain acts (adultery among them), judged by the objective norms of morality, are intrinsically evil. Such acts are never justified by one’s intention or circumstances. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church (paragraph 1756) explains,
It is therefore an error to judge the morality of human acts by considering only the intention that inspires them or the circumstances (environment, social pressure, duress or emergency, etc.) which supply their context. There are acts which, in and of themselves, independently of circumstances and intentions, are always gravely illicit by reason of their object; such as blasphemy and perjury, murder and adultery. One may not do evil so that good may result from it.
Second, if a confessor counseled this woman to submit to her new partner’s demands—sleep with me or your children go hungry—would he be enabling an abusive relationship? What other demands, physical or emotional, might the second husband be making of which the confessor was unaware? Imagine the storm of (justified) criticism if it were known, or even suspected, that priests were instructing meek women to endure spousal abuse.
Third, Buttiglione assumes that a couple should remain together, even in an illicit marriage, for the sake of their children. But that assumption contradicts the understanding of marriage set forth by a previous pontiff. In his 1930 encyclical Casti Connubii, Pius XI, quoting St. Augustine, wrote that the marriage bond is so sacred that “a husband or wife, if separated, should not be joined to another even for the sake of offspring.”
Buttiglione at least attempted to come up with a case in which the Kasper proposal could be reconciled with Church teaching. One frustrating aspect of the debate was the refusal of Kasper and his many supporters to explain under what circumstances divorced and remarried Catholics might be allowed to receive Communion or to elaborate on the process by which couples might reach that decision. Acknowledging that the decision should not be taken lightly, they stipulated that remarried couples should go through a “process of reconciliation” before approaching the Eucharist. But what was that process, and who should determine whether, at last, they were ready for Communion? Those simple and obvious questions were never answered.
Many of Kasper’s supporters hinted at something like Buttiglione’s scenario, discussing circumstances in which it might be a hardship for a remarried couple to abstain from sexual activity. Yes, it could certainly be a hardship. But sometimes moral decisions require hard choices. Many married couples are forced to abstain from intercourse for other reasons—a medical condition, perhaps, or a physical separation. It is a hardship but not an impossibility.
The absence of any details about the proposed “process of reconciliation” opens a wide door for abuse of any new policy. Advocates of the Kasper proposal invariably say that the Church’s age-old rules should be applied in most cases, that the new dispensation would be offered only to a few. But the proposal’s reliance on the “internal forum” leaves the final determination in each case up to the individual confessor, practically inviting couples to “forum shop” for a priest with an expansive view of the new policy’s applicability. Priests who are inclined to be more rigorous will soon realize that they are fighting a losing battle as disappointed penitents drive across town to a more compliant confessor. A policy that was introduced as an exception could quickly become the new norm.
The prospect of introducing teachings or disciplines that could undermine the sanctity of marriage is unacceptable to Catholic bishops in some parts
of the world. The South African cardinal Wilfrid Napier, employing a quintessentially First-World means of communication to question the logic of Amoris Laetitia, tweeted, “If Westerners in irregular situations can receive Communion, are we to tell our polygamists & other ‘misfits’ that they too are allowed?”
A Silence that Undermined the Law
Other parts of the world, however, have welcomed a more open-ended reading of Amoris Laetitia. The bishops in the pope’s hometown of Buenos Aires, preparing instructions for their pastors on the implementation of Amoris Laetitia, embraced the Kasper proposal, encouraging the “pastoral accompaniment” of couples in irregular unions, with the understanding that even if they persist in such relationships “a path of discernment” that could lead them to the Eucharist “is possible.”
In a private letter sent to these bishops in early September 2016, Francis congratulated his countrymen on their interpretation of his apostolic exhortation, writing that it “fully captures the meaning” of his work. “There are no other interpretations,” he added.
When this letter was leaked to the press (and confirmed as authentic by the Holy See several days later), the world’s Catholics were subjected to an absurd spectacle. After more than two years of highly contentious debate—first about the Kasper proposal and then about the meaning of a single footnote in the longest papal document in history—without any clear guidance from the pope, the first seemingly authoritative interpretation finally emerged, not in a formal public statement but in a private letter in which the pontiff was commenting on someone else’s interpretation.
Wouldn’t it have been more sensible to resolve such a question with a formal statement from the Vatican press office? Yet once again, Francis deliberately avoided putting any such statement on the record. Just a few months earlier, responding to the same old question from reporters during an in-flight interview, he had declined to give a direct answer. Andrea Tornielli of La Stampa recalled:
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