Excerpt from Response to God's Love
        by Fr. Edward J. Carter, S.J.

                                  6 

                                  The Christian and Church
 

       The leader in helping form a better community among the members of the human family is the Christian community, the Body of Christ. God has established the Church as a leaven for the development of a graced society of human beings. The bonds of union that hold the human race together have been strengthened by the redemptive work of Christ. Despite the fact that many do not realize it, there is only one fundamental community that embraces everybody—and it is Christic. The Christian community is, in turn, a great channel of grace that deepens this Christic image of the world society.

       If the Church is to be a proper leaven for the formation of a better world community, however, she herself has to progress in a sense of community. There must be a growing understanding of the truths and principles that pertain to Christian community, and a growing desire to explore practical ways to implement these principles.

       Throughout the course of salvation history, God has always communicated himself within the framework of community. In saying this, we are not maintaining that God does not communicate himself to individuals in a very intimate and personal manner that respects their uniqueness, their individuality. We are saying, however, that God communicates himself to a person according to his or her totality, and one dimension of this totality is the social aspect. God has respected this social dimension; in his self-communication he has called us together in religious community, or covenant. It seems that in our present age God is beckoning us to a deeper realization of these truths.

       The Christian community is a terrestrial reflection of the ultimate and absolute community—namely, the Trinity. In a special way, we are privileged to give witness to Trinitarian life, a life of divine intimacy and loving. From all eternity, the persons of the Trinity are united in the most intimate bonds of knowledge and love; these have also brought about creation and redemption.

       Grace, or the Christ-life, is a created participation in Trinitarian life. This Christ-life, consequently, calls us to a special existence of knowing and loving. Christian faith and love, which are created participations in the Trinity's knowing and loving, allow us to know and love God in a special manner. Faith and love also give us a new capacity to relate to both our fellow Christians and to all others as well.

       Because the life of the Trinity is person-centered, so must the life of the Christian community be person-centered. For many years, it seems, we were not sufficiently person-conscious; however, the theology that has emanated from Vatican II is helping to rectify this situation. In the pre-Vatican II Church, structures in the Church were occasionally treated as ends in themselves rather than as the means of serving the persons in the Church. Slowly but surely, structures in the Church are being renewed so that they might better serve their true purpose, which is to aid in the ongoing development of her members.

       The Christian community, in turn, develops when those who make up that community develop as authentic Christians. Just as each divine person contributes perfectly to the community life of the Trinity according to the perfect fullness of his personhood, so each Christian contributes to community life in proportion to the degree of his or her personal development.

       Authentic interpersonal relationships help to develop community. The Trinitarian community is a community of profound relationships. Because we reflect Trinitarian community, we are intended to have relationships not only with the persons of the Trinity, but likewise with one another. Authentic interpersonal relationships not only unite in a deeper knowledge and love the persons directly involved, they also make a person more capable of loving others more deeply and, therefore, more capable of deepening the bonds of total community. If a person is growing in the capacity to love his or her friends, for example, that person is concurrently growing in the capacity to also love others—both those who are members of the Church and those who are not.

       The concept of the Church as Body of Christ certainly emphasizes the sense of corporateness that should permeate the consciousness of the Church's members. We must think in terms of both what is good for the entire Church and, through this Church, what is good for the total human community. Even when we disagree among ourselves, we do so not because we want to glory in having the upper hand, but because we believe that to disagree here and now is necessary so that the truth might better emerge for the good of the community. St. Paul speaks to us about this sense of corporateness: "In the name of the encouragement you owe me in Christ, in the name of the solace that love can give, of fellowship in spirit, compassion, and pity, I beg you: make my joy complete by your unanimity, possessing the one love, united in spirit and ideals. Never act out of rivalry or conceit; rather, let all parties think humbly of others as superior to themselves, each of you looking to others' interests rather than his own" (Phil 2:1-4).

       In our sense of corporateness, that is, motivated by a common purpose and a common good, we should learn to rejoice in the gifts and the achievements of others. These are not isolated gifts and achievements; rather, they redound to the good of the whole body. We all probably know of numerous instances of jealousy and a false sense of competition that have hindered the work of Christ. In the long run, however, if the work of Christ is being accomplished, and if I am making an effort to do my part, does it really matter whether I or someone else is responsible for this or that particular accomplishment? Does it matter whether this or that group or organization receives credit? St. Paul again has words for us: "After all, who is Apollos? And who is Paul? Simply ministers through whom you became believers, each of them doing only what the Lord assigned him. I planted the seed and Apollos watered it, but God made it grow. This means that neither he who plants nor he who waters is of any special account, only God, who gives the growth. He who plants and he who waters work to the same end" (1 Cor 3:5-8).

       Apparently, a growing number of persons today are tempted to think that they do not need the Church and its bonds of communion in order to be Christian. In fact, some say the Church is a hindrance to them in their attempts to live the Gospel message. Their uniqueness—their individuality—is being thwarted, they claim. This is a temptation that must be firmly resisted. There is, of course, an errant philosophy of individualism rampant in today's world that can certainly influence the contemporary Christian. This philosophy is patently false. It promotes a type of individualism that is inimical to community because it teaches that one must look out for Number One regardless of the consequences to others. Do your own thing, in other words, whenever and wherever you please, and let the chips fall where they may. This type of individualism is obviously wrong and pernicious.

       There is, on the other hand, a kind of individualism that is positive and in perfect harmony with the tenets of community. This theory states that the authentic expression and development of individuality, of uniqueness, actually contributes to community, and, conversely, life within the community enhances one's true individuality. Rahner puts it this way: "An absolutely individual Christianity in the most personal experience of grace and ecclesial Christianity are no more radically opposed than are body and soul, than are man's transcendental essence and his historical constitution, or than are individuality and intercommunication. The two condition each other mutually. The very thing which we are from God is mediated in the concreteness of history by what we call church. And it is only in and through this mediation that it becomes our own reality and our salvation in full measure. For this reason church exists and has to exist" (Foundations of Christian Faith, p. 389).

       Closely connected with the concept of the Church as Body of Christ is that dimension which is sacramentality. Both aspects—the Church as Body of Christ and as sacrament—emphasize the fact that the Church exists in, with, and through Christ, and that the Church is the tangible, visible, terrestrial continuation of the Incarnation. As would be expected, then, both concepts emphasize some of the same truths. What can be said about the Church as sacrament could also be said about the Church as Body of Christ. To put it another way, a dimension of the Church being Body of Christ is her sacramentality. We will examine this sacramentality in a general way, momentarily postponing the treatment of liturgical sacramentality until the next chapter.

       In a general sense, then, a sacrament is a visible sign of an invisible, divine reality. Christ, therefore, is the primordial sacrament given to us by God. In his historical existence, Jesus was the visible, tangible manifestation that God has irrevocably entered our world with merciful, salvific grace. At the same time, Christ contained within himself this divine reality that he externally manifested. Thus, we quickly arrive at a fuller definition of sacrament in general—namely, a sacrament is a visible sign of an invisible, divine reality, that contains and confers what is signified.

       The Church continues the work of the Incarnation. With Christ as head of the body, the Church continues the life and the work of Jesus according to the pattern and characteristics of Christ himself. Because Christ's existence was centered in death-resurrection, for example, so also is the Church's existence centered in death-resurrection. Similarly, in our present context, because Christ was sacrament, so also is the Church sacrament. Avery Dulles says: "The Church therefore is in the first instance a sign. It must signify in a historically tangible form the redeeming grace of Christ. It signifies that grace as relevantly given to men of every age, race, kind, and condition. Hence the Church must incarnate itself in every human culture" (Models of the Church, p. 63).

       The individual Christian participates in the sacramentality of Jesus and the Church. In some ways, this participation differs according to one's vocation; a lay person, for example, does not participate in all ways the same as does the priest. There are, however, some ways we all share in common, one of which is our privilege and responsibility of signifying God's love. Because God in his love was the principal reality signified by Jesus in his incarnate existence, we, who help continue the Incarnation, must make the manifestation of love our principal concern. We must make sure that it is the controlling force of our Christian existence. We all know countless examples of Christians who have given outstanding witness to God's love, and the achievements to which that love can inspire others. History shows how Christians of all vocations have marvelously and, at times, brilliantly, spent themselves for one another and for mankind in general. In all honesty, however, we know that there is also a darker, unattractive side to our history. There are numerous and painful examples of how Christians have failed to give witness to the love that Jesus came to preach. We cannot undo these failures, but remembering them can help motivate us to repair the damage by loving—here and now—as we should.

       Another dimension of the Church is the fact that she is a pilgrim Church, a fact that we have alluded to in an earlier chapter. This concept has various ramifications: A pilgrim Church, for example, has not yet arrived at her final destiny, has not yet achieved that fullness, that perfection, that complete maturity that will be hers only when she joins the heavenly Church—that portion that has already achieved eternal life. To be a mature member of a pilgrim Church, then, is to realize that there will always be many imperfections that will mar the beauty of the Church. Although these failings dim the Christ-like image of the Church and thus prevent her from projecting Christ to the world as well as she otherwise could, we have to realize that, to a certain degree, the Church will always be burdened with such failings.

       Liberals are correct, however, when they call for a renewal of the Church that would better enable her to be what she should be. They are correct in pointing out that a pilgrim Church is one that should be evolving, progressing, searching for the path that has been marked out by the Lord, and always pressing on toward that which has not yet been achieved. But if liberals are eager to view the Church according to such an imperative, they also must be willing to accept the fact that the concept of a pilgrim Church is a two-edged sword. If such a concept points out the truth that the Church must, to a certain extent, always be progressing, changing, renewing herself, it also points out the truth that a pilgrim Church will always be burdened with failures and sinfulness. If she were all she should be, in other words, there would be no need for change or renewal or evolution.

       Conservatives, on the other hand, must realize that a pilgrim Church must be on the move, adapting, reaching out for that aspect of the Gospel ideal that has not yet achieved. To opt for the status quo, to have a triumphalistic attitude regarding the Church, is to reject the idea of a pilgrim Church—it is, in short, to reject reality. Conservatives are correct, however, in pointing out that change and progress can never mean compromising the timeless essentials that are irrevocable constituents of the Church's existence.

       The challenge for all of us, then, whether we be liberals, conservatives, or centrists, is obvious: We must learn how to more perfectly unite the unchangeable and changeable aspects of the Church; we must courageously bear with the failings and sinfulness of the Church while, at the same time, we must take all reasonable means to improve the situation; we must deeply love the Church while, at the same time, we must admit that she has a long way yet to travel; lastly, we must be willing to give ourselves so that we might accomplish this goal.

       Another dimension of the Church is the fact that, by her very nature, she is capable of expressing both diversity and unity. Exactly how to combine both of these aspects in a proper balance is one of the greatest challenges facing the Church today. We are still far from the desired balance—an unpleasant reality that is made manifest by the spirit of divisiveness that plagues the contemporary Church. This divisiveness has, to a considerable degree, been caused by the recent pluralism, or diversity, that is a leading characteristic of the post-Vatican II Church. Pluralism, or diversity, in itself is not undesirable—far from it; rather, it is that we still have much to learn in dealing with pluralism, in being able to discern the difference between authentic pluralism and its nonauthentic counterpart, and in blending the pluralism that is desirable with the unity that is necessary.

       Let us reflect on some of the factors that give rise to pluralism in the life of the Church. First, let us consider the mystery of Christ as it is relived by both Church and individual Christians. The People of God, individually and collectively, are meant to continue the Incarnation in space and time by reliving the life, death, and resurrection of Christ—the mystery of Christ, which is both richly diversified and profoundly unified.

       Jesus has left us many different truths and examples that are to be incorporated into our own Christian existence. Historically, this rich variation of the mystery of Christ has manifested itself in various ways. We have different schools of spirituality, for example, each of which gives a special witness to this or that aspect of the Christ-event through its own particular harmonization and implementation of the various facets that comprise the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. And so, Carmelite spirituality has always stressed prayer; it gives special witness to the Christ who often went aside and prayed to his heavenly Father. Benedictine spirituality has given special attention to liturgy and, consequently, emphasizes the priestly activity of Christ. Dominican spirituality has traditionally stressed the pursuit of truth and, in its own special manner, points to the prophetic or teaching office of Jesus. Franciscan spirituality has emphasized, among other things, the material simplicity of Christ's life.

       In more recent times, in the effort to apply in a special way the mystery of Christ to the diocesan priesthood and to the laity, writers have dealt with the spiritualities that are appropriate to these two vocations. The mystery of Christ, then, simultaneously possessing a varied richness and a profound unity, makes possible different spiritual movements that, nevertheless, ultimately constitute but one Christian spirituality. Consequently, we must preserve a balanced view. We must admit the legitimacy of varied movements and schools of spirituality, which have their own particular nuances in the following of Christ, while, at the same time, we must realize that all Christian spiritualities are essentially the same. They have very much in common because they are rooted in the one Christ, in one Gospel, in one liturgy.

       We have established a very basic theological reason for diversity in the life of the Church—the diversity that is contained in the very mystery of Christ. There are, however, two more factors we would now like to discuss that help us to see why diversity exists in the Church. These second and third principles might well be called the theology of personal uniqueness and the theology of time and culture.

       We have seen in chapter two that the theology of personal uniqueness tells us that each person is a unique imitation of God. In the process of being elevated to graced existence through our incorporation into Christ, our personal uniqueness is deepened. This interpretation is an application of the theological principle that grace does not destroy or lessen nature; rather, grace perfects nature and gives it a deepened capacity to more fully actuate all its authentic dimensions, one of which is personal uniqueness. Our life in Christ, then, far from lessening or destroying our uniqueness, respects and develops it.

       Various implications that relate to diversity in the Church flow from this theology of personal uniqueness. There are, as we have said, various spiritual movements and schools of spirituality in the Church because it is possible to relive the richly diversified mystery of Christ with different emphases and nuances. In the same way that this diversity is possible between schools of spirituality, so also is it possible among individuals. Moreover, it is not only possible, but actually necessary because of the concept of personal uniqueness. No two Christians will put on Christ in exactly the same manner; each one puts on Christ according to what each one is. Obviously, each Christian is to assimilate Christ in essentially the same manner; nevertheless, each Christian will also do it in a manner that cannot be duplicated. Our theology of personal uniqueness, then, has obvious implications for the overall diversity in the Church, which has millions of members.

       We have seen how diversity is present in the Church because of both the principle of pluralism, which is contained in the mystery of Christ, and the principle of personal uniqueness. Now we come to the third and final principle; it deals with ideas that are contained in what can be called the theology of time and culture.

       In God's dealings with mankind, the concepts of time, historical situation, and culture have played a very important role. In saving us, God works within time, history, and culture; his salvific action is not unnaturally superimposed upon our historical and cultural situation, but rather, works within it. Throughout the continued course of salvation history, God's saving will manifests itself differently, or diversely. This diversity can, in part, be explained by historical and cultural exigency, a classic example of which is the comparison between the old and the new covenants. God's dealings with the people of the Mosaic covenant were conditioned both by the point of time in salvation history that was then operative and the culture of the Jewish people. With the enfleshment of his Son and the ensuing formation of the new covenant, God communicated himself in a manner that was partially different from that self-communication that had prevailed during the time of the Mosaic covenant.

       If God's salvific activity has a diversity attached to it because he respects the time-conditioned and culture-conditioned situation of man, so must there be a similarly caused diversity attached to Christian life. The Christian life is a response to God's loving salvific activity, a response to his living initiative that always precedes us. God's activity, which respects the differences that time and culture insert into human history, will exact differentiated responses within the Church. This differentiation can exist between the various ages of the Church, and, therefore, we can legitimately speak of the predominant spirituality of either the sixteenth century or a certain period within the eighteenth century. This pluralism, or diversity, can also exist within the same age because of cultural differences; God respects the African culture, the American culture, and so forth. As Christians within these various cultures respond to God's continued self-communication, they do so in a manner that is partly determined by their particular cultures. Because there are differences in their cultures, we will discover a Christian pluralism, or diversity, arising out of these cultural differences. An African spirituality, therefore, differs somewhat from an American spirituality, and both differ from a Spanish spirituality.

end of excerpt from Response to God's Love