The phrase has an interesting history. It was first used as a technical term at the Council of Trent (1545-63) and implied the full treasure of the church’s teachings. The deposit includes the canon of scripture, the sacraments, and all teachings since apostolic times. It was understood in church tradition that revelation ended with the generation of the apostles: Therefore the deposit of faith is closed to further additions or subtractions. What church tradition has done since that era is to “reap the interest,” so to speak, on that original deposit with any ensuing teaching.

Of course it’s also true that the church’s treasure is not a thing but a person: Jesus Christ himself, “a living resource” of truth and salvation, as theologian Nancy Dallavalle puts it. So while the deposit of faith is “unchanging” since the apostles, it’s nevertheless quite alive.

The introduction of the term came at an embattled time in church history, when “what is truth?” was more than a rhetorical question in light of the Reformation’s many challenges to tradition. The "deposit of faith" became a catch-phrase through the documents of the First Vatican Council (1869-70), a gathering that sought above all to fix the body of truth infallibly and for all time in the face of Enlightenment questions.

Vatican II (1962-1965) revived the term under new conditions. By this time scripture itself was undergoing a sea change in scholarly understanding, and the community of faith was asking the “what is truth?”question less defensively. This council’s Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation saw the sacred commission of a deposit of faith as entrusted to the whole church and not as the sole possession of its magisterium or teaching authority. The subsequent encouragement of scripture study by scholars and the laity alike was one way the church incorporated this newfound appreciation concretely.

The opening of the Eucharist to the vernacular and the laity’s increased participation in many liturgical roles also enlarged the shared sense of responsibility for the treasury of tradition. The fresh articulation of church doctrine that sprang from the council was a surprising indication of how much the Christian community could hear as new from such an ancient vault of treasure. Which reminds us again that the real deposit of faith is not a trove of documents but a living person: Jesus Christ.

Scripture
• Matthew 5:17-19; 6:19-21; 13:51-53; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; 2 Timothy 1:12-14; 2:11-13; 3:10-17

Online
• "The Deposit of Faith" from the the Roman Catholic Diocese of Phoenix

Books
• The New World of Faith by Avery Dulles (Our Sunday Visitor)
• New Evangelization: Passing on the Christian Faith Today by Donald Wuerl (Our Sunday Visitor, 2013)

Incense was big in ancient religions. You can appreciate why when you think about how much blood was splashed around in ritual sacrifices or how troublesome the smell of bodies (both living and deceased) was in the time before modern hygiene. The perfume industry did well in a world where peculiar odors were the rule rather than the exception. It covered a multitude of sins in more ways than one.

Like most ritual elements, its practical use laid the groundwork for a spiritual interpretation as well. The sweet smell that cloaked odors also drove out evil spirits and welcomed the divine Presence. Smoke provides a certain amount of concealment, too, which is why we speak of a “smokescreen” (effectively used by the Great and Powerful Wizard of Oz!). This veil of mystery hints at the sacred One who cannot be seen by mortal eyes. Smoke rises toward the sky, traditionally the dwelling place of the divine. It’s no surprise that the psalm popularly prayed in the Liturgy of the Hours declares: “Let my prayer be incense before you” (Psalm 141:1-2). We also “lift up our hearts” to God in prayer at every Mass. Everything that goes to God, goes up.

Incense comes from the Latin word for “something burned.” It was produced from the resin of trees and burned either in a swinging thurible pot or a stationary brazier. The first is useful for incensing around a crowd of people, as we do at Mass. The second works for producing a cloud around an altar or sacred object.

Before the Second Vatican Council the use of incense was restricted only to High Masses. Now it can be used at any Mass: to honor the sacrament, the assembly and presider, the gospel book, the ambo and altar. The first recorded use of incense in Christian rituals was at a funeral in the year 311, and it’s still used to reverence the body of the deceased at funerals today—reminding us that the destiny of the loved one, as our own destiny, is to unite with God in the life to come.

As liturgist Paul Philibert elegantly expresses it: “Incense, the fragrant, lovely substances that allows itself to be consumed and to float off into indeterminate space beyond our reach, signifies the loving entrustment of our lives to God’s providence.” The sign of incense, burned to ashes yet producing a pleasing fragrance in its surrender, symbolizes our capitulated self-interest in radical trust in the divine will.

Scripture
• Exodus 30:1-10; Psalm 141:1-2; Sirach 24:15; Isaiah 60:6; Jeremiah 6:20; Matthew 2:11; Mark 14:8; John 12:3, 7

Books
• Seeing and Believing: Images of Christian Faith by Frank Kacmarcik and Paul Philibert (Liturgical Press, 1995)
• The Symbols of the Church, ed. by Maurice Dilasser (Liturgical Press, 2000)

“THE CHURCH does not have missions; it is mission.” So says Father Robert Schreiter, C.P.P.S., missiologist, offering the best word on the subject. Mission is the reason the church exists, if we’ve heard Jesus’ command to go, preach, and baptize correctly. Why take the good news to the ends of the earth? Because the good news about God and humanity is meant for a wider audience than the already convinced. Even Abraham was told: “All the families of the earth will find blessing in you” (Genesis 12:3). The Israelites were chosen to be “a kingdom of priests, a holy nation” (Exodus 19:6) as a universal revelation of the one God, which is why the Bible doesn’t start with the story of Israel but with the first human beings. Everyone is invited to share the blessing.

The Jewish community, however, did not evolve into an evangelizing community. Jonah is the only prophet who takes an oracle from God outside of his own nation—and he’s not happy about having to do it. While Isaiah, Jeremiah, and other prophets view Israel as an illuminating presence among the nations, they seem content to leave it at that. Matthew’s gospel, the most Jewish of the four, echoes this perspective in limiting the mission of Jesus and the 12 apostles to Israel (with problematic exceptions to that rule). Mark reveals a more proactive mission as Jesus moves back and forth between Jewish and Gentile territory. John’s account, considerably less invested in the mission of the apostles, describes the Samaritan woman and Mary Magdalene running to tell what they’ve witnessed.

While Mark and Matthew both see the tools of mission to be preaching, healing, and dispelling demons, John declares the mission of Jesus is “to testify to the truth” (John 18:37). In Luke and Acts the goal of mission is to preach and do justice. When Saint Paul picks up the mission to the Gentiles, he emphasizes the gospel of reconciliation that establishes peace where there was only division.

MARYKNOLL missionary priest Fr. William Stanley, M.M. in Tanzania.

The church has continually reshaped its understanding of mission, from spreading the gospel to individuals on the one hand to mass (sometimes forced) baptisms on the other. In 1919 Pope Benedict XV uncoupled colonial goals from evangelization. Pius XI championed the ordination of indigenous bishops in mission territories. Pius XII and John XXIII saw the need for more sensitivity to local culture in the mission field, which John Paul II liked to call “inculturation.” Today, works of justice, inculturation, and a dialogue form of evangelization are the hallmarks of Catholic Christian mission.

Scripture
• Genesis 12:3; Isaiah 49:6; the Book of Jonah; Matthew 15:24; 28:16-20; Mark 1:38; John 4:4-42; 18:37; 20:1-18; Luke 4:18-19; 24:47; Acts of the Apostles 1:8

Online
• Second Vatican Council, Ad Gentes, Decree on the Missionary Activity of the Church
• Pope John Paul II encyclical letter Redemptoris Missio (1990—on the 25th anniversary of Ad Gentes)
• United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, To the Ends of the Earth: A Pastoral Statement on World Mission

The story of Catholic School begins in 1634 when Maryland was founded as a Catholic refuge in the American colonies: Six years later the first Catholic school opened there. By 1692, however, Anglicanism was established as the official religion in the colony, and Catholicism largely went underground after that.

REPLICA Catholic grade-school classroom circa mid-20th century, Jubilee Museum and Catholic Cultural Center (Columbus, OH).

By the mid-18th century, Quaker Pennsylvania proved to be Catholic-friendly, so Jesuits opened a handful of schools for German immigrants in and around Philadelphia—near the Maryland border. As one historian notes: “Anti-Catholic laws prevented the foundation of schools virtually everywhere else.” Before the century’s end the United States was a reality, with a constitutional First Amendment guaranteeing that no law would establish or prohibit religious practice. In 1789 the Northwest Ordinance encouraged the development of schools because “religion, morality, and knowledge” were deemed good for government and happiness. That opened the door to Catholic schools but also to the expectation of government support never quite realized.

Detroit became the next hub for Catholic education when a girls’ school opened in 1804. In 1839 nonsectarian reading of the King James Bible in public schools was instituted in Massachusetts and became the norm. The bishop of Philadelphia lost the battle to include other Bible translations. After the bishop of New York failed to win public funds for his schools, U.S. bishops agreed to finance parochial schools themselves at the First Plenary Council of Baltimore in 1852. This was a significant consideration, as the country was experiencing its second big immigration wave. Whereas in 1840 a half-million U.S. Catholics had 200 schools between Baltimore and the Middle Border, between 1880 and 1920 the Catholic population jumped by a million every decade.

At the Third Plenary Council of 1884 the bishops ordered the opening of a school in every parish. Eight million Catholics required 40 communities of religious women and 11 orders of men to staff these schools. By 1947 New Jersey agreed to fund buses for non-public school children, and in the 1960s textbooks, libraries, and even teacher subsidies were available to Catholic schools in half the states. In the same decade, praying and Bible-reading in public schools were prohibited. Despite over 100 parochiaid bills launched by President Richard Nixon, not one passed the U.S. Congress.

Parochial schools have been in decline since their peak in the 1950s and 60s. Contemporary debate centers on whether their mission has already been served in delivering Catholics into the U.S. mainstream.

Scripture
• On instructing children: Deuteronomy 6:4-9, 20-25; Psalm 119; Sirach 6:18-37

Online
• "Grounding Hope in Uncertain Times: Mission and Catholic Schools" by Therese D'Orsa and Jim D'Orsa in Compass: A Review of Topical Theology, Winter 2011

Books
• Parish School: American Catholic Parochial Education from Colonial Times to the Present by Timothy Walch (NCEA, 2003)
• Catholic Schools and the Common Good by Anthony S. Bryk, Valerie E. Lee, and Peter B. Holland (Harvard University Press, 1993)

Photo credit: By Nheyob, via Wikimedia Commons.

A FRIEND wrote me an email during those fateful hours last March as we all watched for smoke to come from a certain Vatican chimney. “Do these cardinals all go into the conclave with a papal name up their sleeves, just in case they’re elected?” she asked. “You don’t want to be unprepared, and then blurt out a name like “Bluto!”

THE FIRST Pope Francis.

Having few cardinals in my acquaintance, I can’t say for sure. I imagine those deemed largely non-papabile among the cardinalcy don’t lose much sleep over the name. But contenders surely give it a great deal of thought. Papal names send signals, as the surprising choice of “Francis” recently verified. Everyone now expects a pontifical swerve away from power and structure and toward the poor and disenfranchised, perhaps with attention paid to the beasts and the natural world, too. That’s why the most popular papal names—John (23), Benedict (16), Clement (14), Leo and Innocent (both 13), and Pius (12)—have had so many takers. The originators of these names, as well as many of their successors, have legacies deemed attractive and imitable to their spiritual protege. (Being the first "Francis," the pope doesn't have a number after his name.)

The one-off papal names, by contrast, didn’t have that sort of appeal. Lando, Sisinnius, Hormisdas, Simplicius, Hilarus, or Hyginus, anyone? So far, 46 one-and-done popes have reigned, and if we never see another Pope Fabian or Valentine, that will probably be OK—which doesn’t imply that the one-offs were failed leaders by any means. Peter, for example, was the original of the breed. His name has been retired apparently out of respect. Linus, Clement, and Cornelius, while never repeated, were significant enough to garner everlasting note in Eucharistic Prayer I used at Mass. A few names were certainly sullied by the dubious reigns of anti-popes (illicit rival contenders), nasty or corrupt fellows, or slackers who accomplished little and were never considered for the titular suffix “the Great.”

In fact, one way to deal with a bad papacy is to take up the name, dust it off, and reuse it. That happened with two antipopes, John VIII and John XXIII, whose names were reappropriated by better men. On the other hand, John XVI’s anti-papacy was deemed illegitimate but the number not reused. John XX never existed at all; that number was deliberately skipped when John XXI determined to straighten out the John numbering once and for all. He died, however, from injuries sustained when his study collapsed on him. Perhaps one really can overthink the name.

Scripture
• On the significance of names: Genesis 17:5, 15; 32:28-31; Judges 13:17-18; 1 Samuel 1:20; Isaiah 7:14; 8:3-4; Hosea 1:6-2:1; Matthew 1:21-23; 16:18-19; Luke 1:13, 31-32

Online
• List of popes and antipopes

Books
• 101 Questions & Answers on Popes and the Papacy by Christopher M. Bellitto (Paulist Press, 2008)
• The Papacy by Paul Johnson (The Orion Publishing Group, 2005)

The clearest answer is the official one: Jesus Christ is present in the Eucharist in his body and blood, humanity and divinity, under the forms of bread and wine. The church teaches that this presence is not a metaphor, it’s a reality. Real.

But how do we arrive at this idea? Jesus himself promises to be with us “always, to the end of time.” He promises to be present when two or more gather in his name, in the forgiveness of sins, and in the suffering world: “' 'Whatever you did for one of these least . . . you did for me' ” (Matthew 25:40). Jesus promises to be really present in many ways throughout the gospel. He’s most explicit about being with us, however, in one profound way: “Take it; this is my body” (Mark 14:22). “I am the bread of life. . . . Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life” (John 6:35, 54).

A COPTIC Orthodox icon of the Last Supper.

For nearly a millennium Christians didn’t dispute this understanding. The controversy began in the 9th century when it was suggested that the bread and wine were not physically changed but only signs of the presence of Christ among us. In response, the church formulated the idea of transubstantiation: The elements of bread and wine truly become the body and blood of Christ—as do we, in our participation in this sacrament. Both the Fifth Lateran Council (1215) and the Council of Trent(1551) emphasized this teaching. It’s the basis for practices like Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, prayer before the Eucharist, and processions that feature the Real Presence carried in a monstrance.

Needless to say not all accepted this teaching, which influenced the reaction of the Reformation movement. Luther viewed the Eucharist as a “co-existence” of Christ and the physical elements. Calvin saw it as a symbolic meal. Zwingli called it an occasion of grace depending not on the minister’s actions but the faith of the recipient.

In 1965 Pope Paul VI reiterated that Christ is present in prayer, works of mercy, preaching, teaching, sacraments, and uniquely in the Eucharist, “a way that surpasses all others” (Mysterium Fidei, no. 38). The Second Vatican Council affirmed Christ’s Eucharistic presence in the consecrated elements, the proclaimed word, the minister of the sacrament, and the worshipping assembly. In 1982 the World Council of Churches took a big step toward unity in the Baptism, Eucharist, and Ministry documents in which participating denominations agreed that the Eucharist involves “real change” in the elements and necessitates “real change” in the participants.

Scripture
• Matthew 26:26-29; Mark 14:22-25; Luke 22:14-20; John 6:22-59; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26

Online
• Mysterium Fidei, Encyclical of Pope Paul VI on the Holy Eucharist
• World Council of Churches, Unity: The Church and Its Mission, with links to documents including Baptism, Eucharist, and Ministry
• "Why do Christians believe Jesus is God incarnate?" by Alice Camille

Books
• 101 Questions & Answers on the Eucharist by Giles Dimock, O.P. (Paulist Press, 2006)
• The Eucharist and the Hunger of the World by Monika K. Hellwig (Paulist Press, 1976)

You can’t say he didn’t warn us. “If a pope clearly realizes,” Pope Benedict XVI said in an interview only three years ago, “that he is no longer physically, psychologically, and spiritually capable of handling the duties of his office, then he has a right and, under some circumstances, also an obligation, to resign.”

In a number of ways Benedict’s dramatic move is unique, though it is not completely unprecedented. We can firmly identify 7 previous abdications from the papacy. Two resulted from Roman attacks on the early church. Pope Pontian (230-235) was arrested in the persecution of the emperor Maximinus Thrax and sentenced to the mines of Sardinia (where people went but didn’t come back). Rather than leave the church in a situation where a sitting pope was essentially imprisoned for life, he resigned before heading off for the mines. Pope Marcellinus (296-304) went the other way, disqualifying himself by handing over the scriptures to the Roman authorities and burning incense to the gods—major giving-in-to-persecution no-nos.

POPE GREGORY XII: The last pope to leave office before Benedict XVI.

Three left office for reasons having to do with either secular or church politics or both. Pope Silverius (536-537) was exiled by the Empress Theodora of Constantinople, restored by the Emperor Justinian, and forced out again by his successor Pope Vigilius. Celestine V (1294) resigned because he couldn’t tolerate ruling as pope under the thumb of King Charles II of Sicily. Pope Gregory XII (1406-1417) reigned during the period known as the Western Schism when no fewer than three men were claiming the papacy. When the Council of Constance was planned to resolve the issue, Gregory agreed to abide by the decision of the council as long he could convene it, thereby establishing himself as a legitimate pope long enough to resign and let the council elect Martin V to be the one of leader of the church.

Another papal departure, that of Benedict IX (11th century), came about because of his scandalous personal life, including the fact that he sold the papal office to a relative. He was elected, deposed, and returned three times before finally leaving for good.

Finally, not much is known of the reign of Pope John XVIII (1003-1009) besides some of his official decisions, but apparently he resigned and lived out his last years in a monastery (sound familiar?).

POPE Benedict IX, (c. 1012–c. 1056): A "bad" pope.

So Benedict’s resignation is not wholly unprecedented in that a few of the previous popes who left office did so of their free own will, either for personal reasons or the good of the church. It is, however, dramatic because it hasn't happened in a long time, and the church in recent decades is not used to papal turnover so quickly. Keep in mind that the 26-plus-year papacy of Benedict’s predecessor, John Paul II, was the second-longest in history. The length of Benedict’ papacy, about 8 years, is actually very close to the average reign of the 265 previous popes—slightly over 7 years—and not far below the average papal term since the 16th century of 10 years.

Benedict’s extraordinary decision has also drawn attention to the sometimes little-known but influential body of canon law that ultimately governs just about everything that happens in the church, including a pope’s resignation.

Before the 20th century, canon law existed in various forms and collections. It was not brought together into one book until 1917. The current Code of Canon Law, published in 1983, was a revision of the 1917 code. Some provisions for the resignation of a pope existed in older forms of the law (in the 13th century Pope Boniface VIII declared: “Our predecessor, Pope Celestine . . . constituted and decreed that the Roman Pontiff can freely resign. . . . we have determined . . . that it be placed among other constitutions for a perpetual memory of the same”). According to the current Code, a pope may resign validly as long as he makes the decision freely (canon 332.2) and makes it known in writing or orally in the presence of at least two cardinals of the church who serve as witnesses (see canon 189.2-4). This Benedict did.

This pope’s resignation is also significant not only because it is the first one to occur under the 1983 Code but also because of its reasons: We don’t know why Pope John XVIII retired to a monastery a thousand years ago, but we do know more about why his successor Benedict XVI is doing the same thing now.

POPE BENEDICT XVI visited—twice—the tomb of his 13th-century predecessor Celestine V, who put papal resignation on the books.

Note that in Benedict’s 2010 interview he talked about “a pope,” not “me.” He was speaking of what he thought all popes should do—not only what he thought he should do—when a pontiff is “no longer physically, psychologically, and spiritually capable of handling the duties of his office”: Namely, resign. Clearly Benedict had decided that for him that time had come. He obviously believes that, first, a significantly incapacitated pope should not be in office, and second, by resigning ahead of a catastrophic illness he is making sure the church does not face a situation for which it is not entirely prepared.

While church law on papal resignation is relatively clear, the same cannot be said for the serious incapacitation of a pope. Here we need to go back to canon law, which does allow for the possibility that the Holy See might be what it calls “impeded,” that is, if a pope becomes totally disabled, mentally ill, or otherwise truly incapable of the tasks of the office. To govern those situations the law refers to “special laws enacted for these circumstances” (canon 335). These “special laws” governing what happens when the Holy See is vacant are found in the procedures the popes establish for papal elections, last revised by the pope in 1996, but within these special laws no provision for an “impeded” pope has ever been made. In other parts of the canon law, procedures exist for removing an infirm bishop but nothing like that is set down for an incapacitated pope—even though he is the bishop of Rome—other than the provision that such a pope have a designated cardinal to oversee Vatican administration.

While it is not without precedent in history and church law, Benedict XVI’s bold decision to resign does set a modern precedent that while a pope is presumably elected for life, he does not have to and should not continue to serve if he is unable to do so. An incapacitated pope does not have to in effect abdicate his office to his aides and can make room for someone better able to lead the church into the future.

Online resources
• List of all the popes
• Canons 332 and 335 from the 1983 Code of Canon Law

ILLUSTRATION of a session of the First Vatican Council.

The question involves a few layers of consideration. Catholic teaching isn’t uniform, though many folks think it is. The heaviest layer of teaching is called dogma, Greek for “what seems right.” Dogma is an infallible teaching of the church and will not be revoked. Because of its gravity, your pastor can’t up and declare a dogma nor can your local bishop. The formal promulgation (official publishing) of a dogma can be advanced only by an ecumenical council of the church which includes the pope or by the pope himself.

Dogmatic teaching acquired its heft at the First Vatican Council in 1869-1870 and was reiterated in the 1917 Code of Canon Law. At that time it was determined that dogma must meet three conditions. First, it must be rooted in scripture or post-biblical tradition and be divinely revealed. That means at the very least that it’s time-tested, not sprung out of yesterday’s news or today’s political situation. Second, the church must explicitly propose it as dogmatic. That protects us from the rogue cleric, theologian, or small-faith-sharing-group leader who makes a lone interpretation. Third, such proposals are made in solemn decrees or universal teachings. So you don’t have to read every book a pope writes—worthy though that may be—to be sure you’re not missing a dogma slipped into chapter six.

It would be helpful if there were a page devoted to dogmatic teachings on the Vatican website so there would be no mistaking a simple teaching from an unassailable one. Because formal and deliberate rejection of a dogma is considered a heretical act, it could be vital to your interests to know for sure whether you’re crossing a sensitive line or an irrevocable one.

Interestingly, the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith has declared that dogmas are influenced by “the changeable conceptions of a given epoch.” While the central meaning of a dogma cannot change, its expression can and must be reevaluated in each age to preserve the clarity and applicability of its revealed truth (see the document [link below] Mysterium Ecclesiae, 1973).

Every dogma is a doctrine (“teaching”) of the church, but not all doctrines are dogmas. So the long answer to the question is: If a doctrine isn’t a dogmatic teaching, yes, it can change. The preferred mode of change is development rather than a subsequent erasure of an earlier teaching outright. How doctrines “develop” is a topic for another time—and the sure instigator of many useful arguments.

Scripture
• Matthew 5:17-19; Luke 16:17; Acts 10:34-43; 1 Corinthians 15:1-11; 1 Timothy 1:3-11; 4:11-16; 6:3-5; 2 Timothy 2:11-13; 3:14-17; 4:1-5; Titus 1:5-9

Online
• Beliefs and teachings of the Catholic Church page from the United State Conference of Catholic Bishops
• Mysterium Ecclesiae, Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith

Books
• By What Authority? Primer on Scripture, the Magisterium, and the Sense of the Faithful by Richard Gaillardetz (Liturgical Press, 2003)
• Catholicism: New Study Edition—Completely Revised and Updated by Richard McBrien (HarperOne, 1994)

Roman Catholicism is a Bible-grounded religion and couldn’t be otherwise. Granted, Catholics don’t espouse the sola scriptura ("scripture alone") angle of Martin Luther: along with scripture, Catholics and many other Christians weigh the authority of the tradition which collected, preserved, and promoted the holy writings to begin with. In no way does this cheapen our relationship to the Bible itself. From sacraments to catechisms, everything we do and believe is steeped in scripture.

Vatican II said it best: “The books of Scripture, firmly, faithfully, and without error, teach that truth which God, for the sake of our salvation, wished to see confided to the sacred Scriptures” (Dei Verbum, no. 11). We believe the Bible was written, edited, and selected under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, that both Testaments are so inspired, and that God is their author in an ultimate sense. It should be noted that the word “author” in Latin has wider range than in English and means “producer” more than writer. That means God worked with the Bible’s human authors, called “true authors” in Dei Verbum, using their skills to bring these truths to light. The human writers weren’t simply taking dictation but were genuine collaborators in the message they rendered.

Our understanding of scripture has evolved, obviously: Justin Martyr (100-165) described the evangelists as mere stenographers. Second-century apologist Athenagoras said God used scripture writers “as a flautist might blow into a flute.” In the same period, however, Origen was writing about “illumination” of the writer’s mind rather than a complete mental invasion. He also considered levels of inspiration and the possibility of error in both Testaments owing to the authors’ humanity. Errors in the text, it should be said, would not contradict our present understanding that there is no error in “the truth which God . . . wished to see confided” there for the sake of our salvation. Acknowledging such historical or prescientific miscalls is a far cry from saying the Bible is either factually accurate with every word or altogether poppycock.

Augustine allowed for inaccuracies and how literary form shapes divinely inspired truth. Fellow 4th-century citizen John Chrysostom said if God’s Word could come to earth in human flesh as Jesus, it could likewise “condescend” to the forms and humble talents of human authors. Thomas Aquinas called inspiration “something imperfect” within the larger category of prophecy. The imperfection, no doubt, resides as much in the hearer as in the writer.

Scripture
• 2 Samuel 23:2; Matthew 1:22-23; John 20:30-31; 21:24-25; 2 Timothy 3:16-17; Hebrews 1:1-2; 4:7; 2 Peter 1:19-21; 3:15-16

Online
• Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation Dei Verbum

Books
• The Scripture Documents: An Anthology of Official Catholic Teachings ed. and trans. by Dean P. Bechard (Liturgical Press, 2002)
• Listening to God’s Word by Alice Camille (Orbis Books, 2009)

The word we’re looking for is hierarchy. It means “rule by priests” and describes the system of clergy that governs the church. Technically it’s more like “rule by bishop”: Even the pope is bishop of Rome, and no matter how fancy the hat of a cardinal it’s the territorially governing bishops who get the job done. Bishops (Greek episkopoi = "supervisors") were established in the 1st century to preserve church unity over widening areas. Priests and deacons, whose influence is very parochial—local and parish-focused—work for the bishop and declare obedience to him.

A flow chart would help, and if there is one on the walls of the Vatican, I’d love a copy. In the meantime: Think of the pope as first among bishops. Bishops are Vicars of Christ, which means they, like the pope, have the same Boss. When all the bishops get together, as with the Vatican or Lateran or Tridentine Councils, their authority is the highest the church can express.

CARDINALS in St. Peter's Basilica.

Cardinals were originally priests with permanent parish assignments. By the Middle Ages, the term, meaning “hinge,” denoted priests assigned to important locations (think Los Angeles, Chicago, New York in today’s terms). Cardinals became electors of the pope in the 11th century by decree of Pope Nicholas II. In the 16th century Pope Sixtus V limited the number of cardinals to 70, matching Moses’ assembly of elders (Numbers 11:16). The 1917 Code of Canon Law made it imperative for cardinals to be chosen from the clergy—previously a layman could be designated. Pope John XXIII shrunk the pool to bishops in 1962 and eliminated the numerical ceiling. The College of Cardinals functions primarily as a consulting body for the pope.

The Roman Curia is a bureaucracy that runs everything from diplomatic affairs (Vatican City is the world’s smallest sovereign state) to the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith to the Vatican newspaper. These offices have traditionally been filled by archbishops and cardinals. (There’s no canonical reason why women could not hold these positions in the future.)

Religious orders sweep this flow chart to the floor. There are four broad categories of orders: monastic, canonical, mendicant, and apostolic. Monasteries may be autonomous in their governance, while most orders have central authorities. Some groups are limited territorially, and few universal claims can be made about what they do and how they do it. Somewhere along the chain, though, you can bet someone is accountable to Rome.

Scripture
• Acts 20:28; Philippians 1:1; 1 Timothy 3:1-13; 5:17-25; Titus 1:5-9;1 Peter 5:1-5

Online
• “Episkopë and Episkopos: The New Testament Evidence” by Father Raymond E. Brown, S.S.

Books
• Inside the Vatican: The Politics and Organization of the Catholic Church by Thomas Reese, S.J. (Harvard University Press, 1998)
• All the Pope’s Men: The Inside Story of How the Vatican Really Thinks by John L. Allen, Jr. (Doubleday Religion, 2004)

It’s always easier to speak from experience, in which case the best reply to this question would come from Doctors of the Church Hildegard of Bingen (recently named) and Catherine of Siena as well as other saints like Francis of Assisi, Bernadette of Lourdes, or any number of folks on the biblical record like Jacob, Isaiah, Ezekiel, Peter, Paul, and John of Patmos, who wrote the Book of Revelation.

ICON of Hildegard of Bingen

From me, you can get a definition. Visions are understood to be the product of God’s self-communication. As Carmelite Father John Welch puts it, all of Christianity depends on divine revelation, so the hop to visions is not all that unusual for people of faith. Nonetheless it is an extraordinary event that can be expressed in words, ideas, or images. It may have a physical dimension but is more often experienced in the imagination or intuitive understanding.

Visions that include a tangible dimension are considered extremely rare. Juan Diego got an image on tilma cloak from Our Lady of Guadalupe. Philip Neri experienced a globe of fire entering his chest that literally broke his ribs and enlarged his heart. Francis of Assisi had his stigmata. Most visions don’t have that kind of corporeal aspect, and mystics themselves often mistrusted them if they did. “Imaginative visions”—Joan of Arc described hers this way—are often attributed to factors like youth, an elementary religious education, or psychological simplicity. Consider how many mystics had their experiences as children, like those of the Virgin Mary at Fatima, Portugal in 1917.

Mystics agree the most reliable visions are intellectual or intuitive; these are less likely to be distorted by unreliable human senses. Mystics are also the first to say that visions are not the goal of the spiritual life. Most mystics had their visions early and moved into a greater interiority of spiritual communion with God after that. In that sense the vision achieved its purpose along the spiritual journey as a boost upward into something richer and more useful—the point being, for the saints and for the rest of us, that we shouldn’t measure ourselves against these experiences or hanker after them. If even visionaries found them dispensable, they are clearly not prerequisites to grace.

Although faith is based on revelation, church teaching leaves the matter of specific visions open to question. Visionaries in modern times are subject to investigation by church authorities and may be deemed credible—but their experiences are not made matters for doctrinal acceptance for believers. Most of us have inexplicable episodes when we perceive things we have no way of knowing and yet do. If we pay attention, we might see more than we think.

Scripture
• Genesis 32:23-33; Isaiah 6:1-8; Ezekiel 10; Daniel 7:13-18; Acts of the Apostles 9:1-9; 10:9-16; the Book of Revelation

Online
• The Dialogue of Saint Catherine of Siena, "dictated by her, while in a state of ecstasy, to her secretaries, and completed in the year of our lord 1370"

Books
• Our Lady of the Lost and Found: A Novel of Mary, Faith, and Friendship by Diane Schoemperlen (Penguin, 2002)
• Mystics and Miracles: True Stories of Lives Touched by God by Bert Ghezzi (Loyola Press, 2002)

Dissent is best understood and undertaken in the context of some other important concepts: authority, tradition, obedience,and the sense of the faithful. I can’t do justice to these topics here but for a fuller treatment on authority see my article in the 2013 VISION Catholic Religious Vocation Discernment Guide.

First, an affirmation of dissent by Karol Wojtyla, later Pope John Paul II, in The Acting Person: “The structure of a human community is correct only if it admits not just the presence of a justified opposition but also that practical effectiveness of opposition required by the common good.” The tender issue here is that the church is not only a human community but also a mystical body. That which is mortal about the church must respect and address justified opposition. Which leads to the sticking point: Who decides what is justified?

YVES CONGAR, O.P. (1904-1995)

I’d like to suggest two determinants: the magisterium and the mystical body. The magisterium, the church’s teaching body, is composed in each generation of specific persons who, through apostolic succession and the power of the Holy Spirit, have attained the seats of discernment: pope, curia—the Vatican offices that assist the pope in governing the church—the College of Cardinals, and national bishops’ conferences. They write the documents promulgated into binding teaching for the whole church.

The mystical body of Christ is a much larger assembly. It’s comprised of the faithful to whom the Holy Spirit is likewise entrusted. That Spirit can draw up from the whole body a sense of the faithful (sensus fidelium) that engenders a sea change in church understanding, the way Pentecost did for its first responders. For the most part the magisterium and the sensus fidelium confirm each other, as in the Acts of the Apostles: “The community of believers was of one heart and mind” (4:32). Sometimes they also are at odds, as when Saint Paul discerned that Gentiles should not have to come to Christianity by way of Judaism (Acts 15 and Galatians 2:11ff).

Paul is the poster child for handling church dissent. He went to Jerusalem to argue his case and get a ruling from Saints James and Peter and the elders. He also—literally—got into Peter’s face later in Antioch—but he stayed in relationship, which was the main thing. Every great dissenter after him—Saint Thomas Aquinas, Saint Catherine of Siena, Cardinal John Henry Newman, the great Dominican theologian Yves Congar, the Australian saint Sister Mary MacKillop, among others—stayed in tandem with the magisterium and eventually pulled it forward.

Scripture
• Acts 2:1-4, 42-47; 4:32-35; 9:31; 15:1-29, 36-39; Galatians 2:11-14

Books
• Faithful Dissenters: Stories of Men and Women Who Loved and Changed the Church by Robert McClory (Orbis Books, 2000)
• Creative Fidelity: American Catholic Intellectual Traditions ed. by R. Scott Appleby, Patricia Byrne, and William L. Portier (Orbis Books, 2004)
• Creative Fidelity: Weighing and Interpreting Documents of the Magisterium by Francis A. Sullivan (Paulist Press, 1996)

Online
• Documents of the pope and the Vatican curia
• Documents of church councils

Actually, there are more than two. But in common liturgical usage we appeal to two: the Apostles Creed and the Nicene Creed. They are professions of faith, from the Latin credo, “I believe.” A creed is an authorized statement of religious belief formulated for initiation and other rites. It provides a concise expression of what the believer holds to be true in communion with the entire body of the faithful.

The Christian creed took many forms in the 1st-century church. The simplest is Saint Peter’s confessional phrase, “You are the Messiah,” in answer to Jesus’ question: “Who do you say that I am?” (Matthew 16:16; Mark 8:29). Peter repeats his reply in the streets at Pentecost. Saint Paul also uses a two-part formula professing allegiance to God and his Son. The Trinitarian confession evolves later and is harder to find in the New Testament. It appears at the end of the Gospel of Matthew: “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

Paul offers a summary of the teaching handed to him: Christ died for our sins and was raised on the third day. He reminds the Corinthians of the “gospel I preached to you, which you indeed received” (1 Corinthians 15:1). That became known as the kerygma,or “proclamation,” which the church formerly recited as “the mystery of faith”: Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.

Church fathers like Ignatius and Irenaeus in the 2nd century evolved fuller expressions called rules of faith. Hippolytus offered an interrogatory, question-and-answer format creed similar to what the church sometimes use at Eastertime. An Old Roman Creed of 150 A.D. was later developed into the Apostles Creed, one of the earliest of a half-dozen ecumenical creeds embraced across the church. While the apostles didn’t write it, it clearly reflects church teaching from the first decades, and Saint Ambrose first mentioned it by that name around 390.

The Nicene Creed was another ecumenical version established at the Council of Constantinpole (not Nicaea) in 381 A.D., and by the 6th century it became the standard at baptisms. When the Reformers of the 16th century provided their own creeds starting with the Augsburg Confession in 1530, the Roman Church responded with a few more, up to and including one by Pope Paul VI in 1968. Because the Catholic Church uses them at Mass, the Apostles and Nicene Creed remain the most influential professions of Catholic faith.

Scripture
• Matthew 16:16; Matthew 28:19; Acts 2:36; Romans 1:1-4; 1 Corinthians 15:1-11

Books
• The Creed: What Christians Believe and Why It Matters by Luke Timothy Johnson (Image, 2004)
• The Christian Faith in the Doctrinal Documents of the Catholic Church, 7th ed., ed. by Jacques Dupuis, S.J. and Josef Neuner, S.J. (Alba House, 2001)

Online
• “Creeds and Canons” from the Internet Christian Library

THOMAS AQUINAS, attrib. to Botticelli.

It’s almost easier to list what he didn’t do. In a mere 49 years this 13th-century Dominican friar and later Doctor of the Church became the church’s essential theologian. That Thomas was brilliant is beyond question, but especially in his later writings he betrays an increasingly passionate keenness of vision that might have tempered the earlier intellectualism of his ideas—had he but finished his great Summa Theologica. Death, however, didn’t really put an end to this immense project, Thomas himself did.

Thomas had the advantage of studying under another great Dominican, Saint Albert the Great, and was hugely influenced by Western giants like Saints Augustine and Gregory the Great. But he also sought to mine the Eastern church fathers for their wisdom—in fact, there was hardly a source of truth he didn’t like. Thomas studied and wrote commentaries on scripture all his life. He also read liberally from Christian, Jewish, Muslim, and pagan scholars, convinced there was no contradiction between truth derived from reason as from revelation. Thomas composed The Golden Chain for Pope Urban IV, linking the scripture commentaries of Latin and Greek church fathers together.

His fellow friars considered Thomas both a genius and a warm and kindly man. He was also devoted to the practice of contemplation, which was really what put an end to his writing. After an intense mystical experience three months before his death, he felt incapable of continuing what he now considered a hopelessly inadequate expression of the God he had experienced in prayer. Thomas had defined God in his works as Pure Being: the very essence of Divinity is this Be-ing. The created world and all its creatures were “spoken” and “loved” into a share of this being, which made “friendship with God” the sole purpose for human existence.

Thomas approached divine mysteries with great humility. He qualified even his most stunning theological pronouncements with mental genuflections to reflect their approximate nature only: “to some degree,” “in a certain way,” “as it were.” He rejected theology that denounced the body or the emotions, seeing both equally capable of serving God when well-ordered and disciplined.

His best thoughts on original sin, free will, the role of conscience, divine-human cooperation, the fundamental benefits of a life of virtue, the inner presence of the Holy Spirit, and the nature of salvation in Christ are basic to any parochial school education—whether we recognize them as “Thomistic” or not. It is no wonder that he was canonized a saint within 50 years of his death and named patron of all Catholic universities as well as the “Angelic” Doctor of the Church.

Scripture
• Tobit 4:14b-19; Wisdom 6:9-21; 7:7-30 and chs. 8 - 9; Sirach 1:1-29; Proverbs 2:1-11; 3:13-24; 8:1-9:6

Online
• aquinasonline.com

Books
• Albert & Thomas: Selected Writings, translated, edited, and introduced by Simon Tugwell, O.P. (Paulist Press, 1988)
• Thomas Aquinas: Spiritual Master by Robert Barron (Crossroad, 2008)

PORTRAIT of Archbishop John Carroll.

The answer is a person: John Carroll. The Carrolls were the “First Family” of American Catholicism, arriving in Maryland in 1688. The New World was not hospitable: Catholics were subject to double taxes, deprived of the right to vote, worship, hold office, and educate their children. Masses were held in private, and Jesuits illegally taught in secret schools.

The Carrolls had money, acquired land and influence, and sent their sons to be schooled abroad. Charles Carroll would become the only Catholic signer of the Declaration of Independence. He and his cousin Daniel—who would be one of the two Catholic signers of the United States Constitution—entered Maryland politics after being active on the new national scene. Daniel’s brother John remained in France after finishing his education, taking final vows as a Jesuit in 1771. Rome suppressed the Jesuit order in 1773. John Carroll went home to Maryland, declaring to his mother: “The greatest blessing which in my estimation I could receive from God would be immediate death.”

What he got instead was a diocese. How? Through family connections, John became useful to the Continental Congress in 1776 and made the acquaintance of Benjamin Franklin—a curious man to befriend for someone seeking anonymity. John also defended his faith publicly in the newspapers and published a tract for his fellow Catholics.

In 1783 he organized a meeting of ex-Jesuits in Maryland to petition Rome for the reinstatement of their superior, Father John Lewis. The Holy See consulted that most celebrated American, Franklin, for his opinion. Franklin recommended Carroll instead as the “Superior of the Mission in the thirteen United States.” By 1789, Baltimore, where Carroll had lived since 1786, became the first diocese of the United States with Carroll ordained its first bishop (though Carroll had to go England for his ordination, which took place on August 15, 1790 in the chapel of the Weld family in Lulworth Castle, Dorset).

In a 25-year episcopacy John Carroll accomplished miracles. He pushed for the creation of Georgetown College, opened the first seminary (St. Mary’s in Baltimore), approved the founding of the Visitation Sisters, brought in Dominicans, and encouraged Elizabeth Seton to begin the American Sisters of Charity to educate girls. Not waiting on Rome, he restored the Jesuits in America by affiliating them through the influence of Catherine the Great with Russians who had evaded the suppression of the order.

Carroll also encouraged lay leadership by instituting trusteeship of church properties. He supported Mass in the vernacular, the separation of church and state, and ecumenism among Christian denominations. In the meantime his little diocese grew to include the West Indies and the Louisiana Territory. By the time Carroll died, Baltimore had become an archdiocese overseeing the four sees of Philadelphia, New York, Boston, and Bardstown, Kentucky.

Scripture
• 1 Timothy 3:1-7; 4:12-16; 2 Timothy 2:1-7; 4:1-5

Online
• History of the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Baltimore

Books
• The American Catholic Experience: A History from Colonial Times to the Present by Jay P. Dolan. (University of Notre Dame Press, 1992)
• Creative Fidelity: American Catholic Intellectual Traditions, ed. by R. Scott Appleby, Patricia Byrne, and William L. Portier (Orbis Books, 2004)

“You made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.” The man we know as Augustine of Hippo, bishop and church doctor, made this passionate declaration to God in his Confessions written in Africa in the 4th century. A prolific writer and even more famous orator, it’s no wonder he’s the patron saint of printers today: He practically kept book-makers in business in his day. Despite the fact that he wrote and talked so much, and knew everyone worth knowing in the Mediterranean world from Saints Ambrose to Jerome, some things aren’t known about Augustine. The color of his skin is debated, for example. That he was an impassioned thinker and Christian convert, however, is unquestioned.

Augustine is significant for so many reasons it’s hard to condense them. He wrote some of the earliest extended scripture commentaries and shaped our understanding of the Book Genesis, at least, irrevocably. He left an indelible mark on teachings concerning baptism, original sin, chastity, and doctrines about Jesus as well. He chased suspicious ideas around the church tirelessly—the 4th century had the lion’s share of these—and defined orthodoxy on many issues. His preaching style still affects the modern practice of this art, and his ideas about liturgy remain captivating and fresh. One begins to wonder: Is there anything about Catholicism that Augustine didn’t influence?

While Augustine has been called the most important thinker in Western Christianity and remains the elephant in the room in any modern theological debate, a lot of folks don’t remember him for his ideas at all. Augustine fascinates as a person: He was arguably a sexually promiscuous young man who contracted a bad case of religion and couldn’t get rid of it. Sexual desire and intellectual craving for knowledge were the twin demons of his life. His restless heart found repose in the mystery of God reluctantly—but not without a considerable struggle which he chose to document personally for us. “Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new!” he writes in his Confessions—sounding both rueful and relieved.

The man who would become Saint Augustine was once a faithless lover, an unreliable dad, a lousy prospect for a husband, and a guy who regularly broke his mother’s heart. That he also became an irreplaceable paving stone in church thought is wonderfully encouraging for all of us who currently fall short of who we might yet be.

Scripture
• Psalm 131; Jeremiah 20:7-9; 2 Corinthians 12:1-10

Online resources
• Augustine in the Christian Classics Ethereal Library
• University of Notre Dame Satellite Theological Education Program online course: The Confessions of St. Augustine

Books
• Confessions by Saint Augustine (Penguin Classics, 2006)
• Augustine of Hippo: A Biography by Peter Brown (University of California Press, 2000)
• Augustine of Hippo: A Life by Henry Chadwick (Oxford University Press, 2010)

Among the saddest chapters of church history lies a story more about an era than an event, the consequences of which divided Western Christianity into Catholicism and Protestantism (Eastern Christianity had already split from the West in the Great Schism of the 14th century). Who started the Reformation is a matter of opinion: Was it Martin Luther, who in 1517 nailed to a church door 95 theses against the practice of indulgences (a practice which amounted to paying for your sins in cash rather than in penances)? Or was it centuries of papal scandals, corrupt priests, bloated church bureaucracy, and the extraordinary greed of religious leaders that preceded him?

In the 15th and 16th centuries, few doubted church reform was necessary. But the will to make changes ran up against the power of kings and clerics who profited from abusive practices like selling church offices and indulgences. While Luther’s criticism of the church was originally confined to these indefensible practices, in time he rejected more fundamental items: papal authority, the teaching on sacraments and salvation, the Catholic priesthood and monasticism (he had once been both a priest and a monk), veneration of saints, and clerical control of biblical interpretation.

Luther wasn’t the first reformer to denounce the moral decline of church leaders, but he was the first to view the problem as a theological one, hinging on false doctrine. He provided the ammunition to take aim not simply at church personnel but the credibility of the institution itself. Fellow Germans embraced Luther’s ideas and seized church property, expelling clergy and religious who didn’t join their cleansing movement.

Meanwhile, Ulrich Zwingli and John Calvin were evolving a competing reformation in Switzerland. While Lutherans wanted a reformed Eucharist and Baptism, the Calvinists wanted nothing to do with old sacramental forms. When a third “Radical Reformation” movement arose (Anabaptists, who later sired Baptists and Mennonites), both Catholics and Protestants saw them as heretics. The Church of England was founded in the same period but for reasons that were more political in nature.

The Reformation movement contained the fissures of its own future fault lines. When dissatisfaction with the church is resolved by leaving it, you legitimate every future departure as well. The chief goal of “reformation” is to modify, refashion, or reanimate your subject. Change would come to Catholicism in the long run—but without its separated sisters and brothers.

Scripture
• John 17:1-26; 1 Corinthians 12:12-31; Romans 12:3-8; 14:1-15:13; Ephesians 1:22-23; 4:11-16; Philippians 2:1-4

Online
• Texts about the Reformation and by Reformation figures

Books
• A History of the Christian Tradition, Vol. II: Reformation to the Present by Thomas C. McGonigle and James F. Quigley (Paulist Press, 1996)
• The Great Catholic Reformers: From Gregory the Great to Dorothy Day by C. Colt Anderson (Paulist Press, 2007)

And how many are there?

The number of the precepts is confusing to Catholics of a certain age: Some memorized six in grammar school, but the present Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) lists five. Sometimes known as the “Commandments of the Church,” Catholics had observed the general content of these ecclesial obligations since the Middle Ages and later the Council of Trent recommended them in the 16th-century. Yet they weren’t issued as a body of laws until the 19th century by the bishops of England. The clergy of the Third Plenary Council of Baltimore in 1884 in turn adopted this list for the United States.

The present list of five includes these obligations:

1. To attend Mass on Sundays and holy days of obligation;
2. To confess one’s sins at least once a year;
3. To receive Holy Communion during the Easter season;
4. To observe the days of fasting and abstinence established by the church;
5. To help provide for the needs of the church.

This list from the CCC reinforces the “indispensable minimum” of participation meant to instigate “growth in love of God and neighbor” (no. 2041). The current precepts are primarily focused on guaranteeing engagement in the liturgical life of the church. Although the former precept about honoring the marriage laws of the church is no longer on the list, anyone who approaches the church to be married can vouch for the fact that the laws regarding matrimony are still enforced (see CCC, nos. 1601-1654).

It may sound like the precepts are not really very obligatory for Catholics, considering that they’ve shifted around so much. But in any form they’re fairly old ideas. Since the 4th century, the church encouraged a distinct character and behavior for its members. Sunday and feast-day Mass attendance, the practices of receiving communion and confession, and the particular laws governing marriage were expected of all members. While an official set of obligations wavered between five and ten for another 1,000 years, Saints Peter Canisius argued persuasively for five and Robert Bellarmine for six in the 16th century. Most Catholics in different regions around the world today follow one of these two lists. Some countries add the obligation to provide a Catholic education for one’s children.

Scripture
The church has always adopted behavioral codes expected of its members, such as:
• Acts 4:32-35; 15:22-29; Ephesians 4:25-32; 1 Timothy 3:1-13; Titus 2:1-8

Online
Precepts of the church in the CCC

Books
• This Is Our Faith: A Catholic Catechism for Adults by Michael Pennock (Ave Maria Press, 1998)
• Catholic Essentials: An Overview of the Faith by Michael Amodei (Ave Maria Press, 2008)

Although there have been 21 “ecumenical councils” convened so far in the church’s history, Trent (the 19th) has the rest beat in many ways. For one thing, it lasted the longest, from 1545-1563. It crossed the reigns of five popes, including Paul III, Julius III, Marcellus II, Paul IV, and Pius IV, and two emperors (Charles V and Ferdinand). This council comprised 25 sessions and issued more reforms and dogmatic decrees than any prior, setting the church on its course for the next 400 years.

An ecumenical council usually involves assembling bishops and others who represent the entire church from all over the world, so it’s not undertaken lightly or frequently. While two such councils have followed in the wake of Trent, Vatican I (1869-1870) lasted less than a year and was never formally finished due to the outbreak of war. The more well-known Vatican II (1962-1965) is the only council since Trent to have a significant impact on the direction of the church.

A SESSION of the Council of Trent.

Why did Trent pack such a punch? Timing: It was a response to the challenges issued by the Reformation and gave birth to the movement known as the Counter-Reformation. It reexamined the nature of faith, grace, sacraments, the power of the papacy, and education of the clergy.

But the council was also good for drama: a great historical mess of a convocation, adjourned several times due to turmoil from within and without. Paul III convened it, hoping to respond to Luther’s reforms in a matter of months. He made the greatest progress of the entire 18 years in the first two years by affirming the “equal reverence” of scripture and tradition—contrary to Luther’s insistence on scripture alone—and producing the response to Lutheran teaching on “justification by faith.” Paul III also oversaw teachings on the efficacious nature of sacraments and the affirmation of seven of them—contrasted with the Lutheran adherence to two. The rest of the agenda was left to his successors.

Julius III made his contribution in affirming other teachings on the sacraments, especially the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist, opposing the purely symbolic approach of the reformers Zwingli and Calvin. Marcellus II showed great promise but died 20 days after assuming the office. Paul IV had no interest in continuing the council at all, holding what have since been called “unrealistic” views of papal authority; it was he who first issued the Index of Forbidden Books—so extensive it shocked even his supporters. Pius IV reconvened Trent in the face of new threats from Calvinism. He defined the nature of ordination’s indelible character and the sacramentality of marriage and brought the council successfully to a close. In the face of a sea change in the Christian world, the Catholic self-understanding had been expressed in ways that would prove enduring.

Scripture
• Predecessor to the councils: Acts 15, the “Council of Jerusalem”

Online
• Texts of the documents of the Council of Trent

Books
• The General Councils: A History of the Twenty-One Church Councils from Nicaea to Vatican II by Christopher M. Bellitto (Paulist Press, 2002)
• The Ecumenical Councils of the Catholic Church: A History by Joseph F. Kelley (Liturgical Press, 2009)