We stand not under naked legalism but rather under the rule of grace. This must be felt in all our pastoral work.
Bernard Häring
I see, however, inauthentic the preaching of conversion on the
individual level can be if one will not also participate in the
constant reform of the Church and its structures.
Bernard Häring
They were both German theologians, chronologically 15 years apart and theologically on different planets. The comparisons between them highlight the tragic direction of the Roman Catholic Church today. Bernard Häring, (b.1912) a German Redemptorist, arguably the most influential moral theologian of the twentieth century died in July of 1998; Josef Ratzinger, (b.1927) a fellow peritus (expert) at the Second Vatican Council, now sits on the throne of St. Peter as Pope Benedict XVl.
It is fascinating to look at the lives of these servants of the Church, and speculate on what made them so different. Certainly one of the most significant factors for both was the disastrous Second World War. It is a worthwhile endeavour to analyze the life experience of these two priests, and their response to the cataclysmic events of the conflict which devastated Europe, and simultaneously forced Christians to radically evaluate their faith.
For Roman Catholics, the war was the catalyst for a whole rethinking of the way theology was done. How could it come to pass that in the midst of Christendom, 60 million were killed? How could such unimaginable savagery proceed in the lands of Christianity where the ikon of the non-violent messiah was omnipresent in homes, schools, and churches? Something had gone terribly wrong in the transmission of faith, in the methodologies used in philosophical and theological faculties, in the assumptions of the popular culture. How could fascism and Nazism arise in countries with so many Catholics? Many of the men who played key roles in Vatican II, "the great grace of the twentieth century"(John Paul ll), were changed by the effects of war. Two of them were Häring and Ratzinger. Much has been written about the present Pope so I will deal with him in a succinct fashion, whereas the giant Bernard Häring has become yesterday's man. He will be the major subject of this essay.
Joseph Ratzinger
At the beginning of the war, Joseph Ratzinger entered the minor
seminary at the age of twelve. Hopeless at sports and small for his
age, he immersed himself in his studies and the liturgy. This came
to a halt in 1941 when he was drafted into the Hitler Youth and in
1944 at the age of seventeen, the army. He never saw active service,
and the war ended in April 1945. In November he entered the diocesan seminary, a man with little human experience, virtually none with the opposite sex.
As biographer David Gibson notes about the future pope, Ratzinger has always been defensive about his family's role in the Nazi era. While describing his father as a staunch foe of the Nazis, the records show no public protest. That was left to others like the local pastor, the fiery Josef Steltzle arrested for his prophetic rejection of the new "Aryan Christ" and his insistence that Jesus was "the child of Jews." Fr. Steltzle was expelled from Ratzinger's village Traunstein, but survived the war. He is never mentioned by Benedict XVl. Nor does the Pope mention the notorious sign in the main square of the town, "Do not buy from the Jew. He sells you, farmers, out of house and home." On November 12, 1938 Traunstein was declared Judenfrei (free of Jews). The town of 20,000 also had its leftist martyrs to the evil regime. None of the above is mentioned by Joseph Ratzinger.
Gibson quotes the literary critic Carlo Romano: "Ratzinger never speaks of the slave labour camp 12 kilometres outside of Traunstein…nor of Dachau. There is a sin of omission in his reminiscences." Another biographer John Allen Jr. talks of Ratzinger's "filter."
He seems to have idealized the loyal minority, which includes his own family "our Church and it confirmed for me that Catholicism was a citadel of truth and righteousness against the realm of atheism and deceit." Allen comments that Benedict XVl learned from the war that only this unsullied belief and internal unity could resist oppression. Historians almost universally reject Ratzinger's idealization of the Catholic Church in this period, though there were indeed heroic individuals who met their ultimate fate as resisters. Catholicism in general has been convicted of protecting the institution, but refusing to sacrifice for the Gospel. Keeping churches and schools open was the main thrust of its approach. Unlike Fr. Steltzle who "sung Gregorian chant only because he loved the Jews" (Bonhoeffer), most Catholics were decidedly not prophetic. Nor would Joseph Ratzinger ever be. Gibson concludes, correctly I believe, "The Nazi experience…reinforced in him a kind of distancing, a pattern of removing himself from unpleasantness, isolating the pure ideal --of the faith, the church, the family, the nation-- from the inevitable corruptions of the world."
Many Germans refer to Ratzinger as "der ganz schwartz" (way too dark), and even a cursory reading of his writings shows this. The man is in his own words "decidedly an Augustinian." In other words not too hopeful about the world. Augustine (d.430 CE) was obsessed with the essential sinfulness and even corruption of human nature. Ratzinger is much the same, almost rejecting humanity's efforts to bring justice and peace. He regarded the liberation theologians as naive fools. As we will see, Fr. Häring was more a Thomist, embracing the 13th century theologian's optimism about human freedom, and the goodness of creation, despite his experience of war.
Bernard Häring's experience of the goodness of people mirrored more God's nature and God's divine summons to choose and grow. In the final account, Häring crafted a moral theology not so much from humanity's fallenness and slave-like obedience to the Magisterium. He had witnessed way too much obedience in his native Germany. War would also be his great teacher, a laboratory which would lead him to radically different conclusions than Joseph Ratzinger.
Bernard Häring
Bernard Häring was twenty-seven-years old when war broke out. In 1940 he was already teaching moral theology and making notes for the book which would make him famous in the Catholic world --The Law of Christ which finally saw the light of day in 1954. Called up as a medic in September 1940, Häring found himself in France. As a chaplain he began to say Mass for anyone who arrived at the cathedral in Bayeux. He had already broken the rule which stipulated that all pastoral work was forbidden to priests engaged as medics. As we will see, Häring was not much for mindless rules.
Fluent in French, the young priest engaged the local population weekly until his unit was redeployed to Poland near the Russian border in May 1941. Again he said Mass for all --as Latin was the liturgical language of the day. This time his superiors were not accommodating and he was summoned to appear in full battle dress in front of his superior. Questioned as to why he included Poles in his pastoral work, Häring responded with a question: Why then does my adjutant consort with Polish women? Case closed. "Thus I learned to live with risk, necessary for me when I became known as a theologian."
When "the senseless war against Russia" began, Häring again ministered to all, tending to the wounded and dying as priest-medic. Protestant, Catholic, Orthodox --Häring made no distinction. Gifted in languages Häring baptized in Russian, "step by step growing into my ecumenical vocation." Many times, fellow Germans helped him to save Jews and release Russian prisoners, in the freezing cold of the Stalingrad winter, Häring experienced the deep love of the Russian people who plied him with sleighs and horses to escape. As a prisoner of war, Poles freed him and he became their pastor.
Again and again the supremely pastoral priest was overwhelmed at the goodness of those were the victims of his own nation. It was in the crucible of war, when the worst can often be expected of people, that Häring experienced radical goodness. This led him to his fundamental option for the human being's capacity for authentic decision-making, and his potential for goodness. "Is it not of absolutely decisive significance for a moral and pastoral theologian to believe in the goodness of mankind?"
Goodness was Häring's overwhelming experience, and it proved pivotal for him. As well, it changed his whole orientation as a theologian. What appalled him was "the most absurd obedience by Christians." For him obedience could not be his core concept. It would be responsibility. As well, Bernard Häring would not become obsessed as so many Catholic bishops are today with "pelvic orthodoxy." Sexual rigorism, which so bedevils celibates, would not snare this theologian. His main calling would be as an apostle of peace and non-violence. War had changed him forever.
Häring's trust in the Good News
When The Law of Christ was published in 1954, a new moment in Catholic moral theology was born. Slowly the dry, judgmental, and
deeply unsatisfying theology of the tired confessor's manuals was
under attack, the ridiculous dividing lines between "venial" and "mortal sins," the obsession with numbers and acts rather than with the human person and his orientation. The legalist edifice of the sacrament of penance under Häring's influence moved toward the absolute good news of the Divine covenant with humanity, the overflowing of God's love which sees people on a journey of growth and conversion, rather than fundamentally depraved. God was the Loving Other, not the Controller and harsh Judge.
By 1978, Häring's massive three volume work Free and Faithful in Christ moved further from a legal (The Law of Christ) basis to a more relational model. As well, he had moved more toward non-violence as his major focus. A thoroughly pastoral professor, Häring lectured widely in about seven languages, and loved wherever he went for his warmth and concern for all. Deeply ecumenical because of his wartime experience, he was at home in Protestant settings as much as Catholic ones.
Häring's problems with Rome accelerated with the birth control encyclical Humanae Vitae (1968). He signed a worldwide petition against the encyclical, thereby earning the enmity of the Curia who had blamed him for the majority report of the Papal Commission, which had advocated a change in the Church's teaching. Häring had acknowledged conscience to be on an equal footing with papal decrees. At this time, he had also advised the Canadian episcopacy whose Winnipeg statement did the very same.
In the 1970s and early 1980s, Bernard Häring was the subject of an intense investigation by the Holy Office which endangered (as it did many theologians) his health. The pressures and secrecy of his trials were so intense that his statement, "I would rather stand once again before a court of war of Hitler" shocked the present Pope. As the much-loved theologian slowly moved off the centre stage his courage, so defined by war, enabled him to speak out when the occasion demanded it. He was less than enthused with John Paul ll's grasp of moral theology in the latter's 1993 encyclical Veritatis Splendor.
"Let us ask our pope: Are you sure your confidence in your supreme human, professional and religious competence in matters of moral theology and particularly sexual ethics is truly justified?... We should let the pope know that we are wounded by the many signs of his rooted distrust and discouraged by the manifold structures of distrust which he has allowed to be established."
Häring died in July 1998 and was mourned by his student Charles Curran as "a committed, holy, intelligent, and courageous person. His legacy is an example and sign of hope for all who struggle for conversion in our lives and in our church."
From Häring's own lips we are able to observe the radical impact of war on his psyche and his theology: "What most influenced my thinking about moral theology was the mindless and criminal obedience of Christians to Hitler, a madman and a tyrant. This led me to the conviction that the character of a Christian must not be formed one-sidedly by a leitmotif of obedience but rather by a discerning responsibility, a capacity to respond courageously to new values and new needs, and a readiness to take the risk" (Free and Faithful in Christ, 1978).
Sadly, in an earlier incarnation, Joseph Ratzinger would have agreed. "Conscience is the supreme and ultimate tribunal, even beyond the official Church, and it must be obeyed" --1966.
Ted Schmidt is the author of Shabbes Goy: A Catholic Boyhood. His blog is http://theologyinthevineyard.wordpress.com/ and he can be reached at jtschmidt@rogers.com
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