One of the intriguing qualities of Pope Benedict XVI is his intellectual style.
He consistently uses large theoretical constructs, such as
secularism, to reflect on the condition both of Western societies and of
the Church. He also regularly attributes the dysfunctional aspects of
both Church and society to the embrace of false theory.
He has regularly
attributed sexual abuse by Catholic clergy to bad moral theory.
The strength of this way of viewing the world is that it simplifies
complex realities and provides a focus for reflection and conversation
with those of a different view.
Particularly during his visit to England
earlier this year the Pope Benedict has stirred helpful conversation
about the place of religion in society.
His intellectual style engaged
his listeners and offered a different perspective even if it did not
persuade them.
The breadth and abstraction of this intellectual style also allow
space for confident leadership. If you believe you can identify the
causes of weakness in society and the Church, you may also be able to
exercise control over them.
If the root of corruption lies in false
theory, you can work to convert people to true theory.
In a church you
may also be able to proscribe bad theory, to prescribe true theory, and
so to eradicate corruption.
The strengths of this intellectual style are also its potential
weaknesses. When you think in large theoretical terms it is easy to miss
the subtle relationships that are crucially important.
It is also very
easy to miss the ways in which your own perspective may be part of the
problem, not simply an authoritative guide to its solution. If your
diagnosis is inaccurate your remedy will be at best unavailing, and at
worst counterproductive.
When Pope Benedict blames bad moral theory for sexual abuse by
the clergy, he may offer an example of the weaknesses of this
intellectual style. His judgment is firmly held: he has made it in at
least three places. In itself his argument is not without plausibility.
Proportionalism, the moral theory that he has in mind, is complex.
It
could be misunderstood as propounding a moral relativism, within which
we could not speak of actions as in themselves right or wrong without
referring to our intentions, our circumstances or to the perceived
consequences.
Someone who held that point of view might then be able to
argue that in his circumstances paedophilia would be morally acceptable.
The Pope could also argue that, although different moral theories may
have little currency among Catholics generally, they are significant
because they influence the moral thinking of future priests. And moral
thinking does influence action.
Finally, the theory he criticises
enjoyed some currency among Catholic moral theorists in the 1970s, the
time when clerical abuse began to rise sharply.
The John Jay report argues
against the influence of this theory, at least in the US.
It suggests
that most offenders received a traditional moral theology that
emphasised the good and evil of actions independent of circumstances or
intention.
The offending clergy, too, recognised the sinfulness of their
actions and put weight on their confessing them and being forgiven by
God. Their spirituality was focused on the individual's relationship to
God.
The roots of abuse then lay in the way in which Catholic life and
clerical life were construed before Vatican II, not in moral theories
that arose after it.
These conclusions invite reflection that might lead to an explanatory
theory. But any satisfactory theory will be unlikely to be simple or
to be cast in terms of large intellectual movements.
It will need to reflect on the relationships between interlocking
aspects of Catholic life in different periods and cultures. It might ask
how power, sexuality, celibacy, clerical status, sin, confession and
God were interrelated in the mid 20th century, and what changes in
relationship took place from the 1960s and subsequently.
Such reflection will inevitably turn to the ways in which the
interweaving of these elements has shaped Catholic thinking about God
and the church.
Moral theories will be part of the weave of this
tapestry, but to focus on them alone entails missing much that is
salient.
These kinds of question are susceptible to a patient and intuitive
teasing out of thought, of story, of experience and of imagery. They
involve a good deal of self-reflection and a readiness to change. They
are less susceptible to theoretical analysis in preconceived terms.
This is not to discount the Pope's intellectual style and his
insistence on objective moral standards.
In an Australian environment
where many Christians are among those who see no moral problem in
trafficking people to Malaysia to achieve political ends, I find the
Pope's insistence on absolute moral values very welcome.
But in the case of clerical sexual abuse, his analysis is not
pertinent.
It is important for the Church that he leads and for the
victims of abuse that it be pursued deeper.