What is the fundamental difference between Judaism and Christianity?
Writing for Commentary
in 1948, Irving Kristol argued that while Judaism took human experience
as its starting point, Christianity began with principles it believed
to be eternally true and demanded that human life conform to them.
Judaism, he averred, posits “an unbreakable bond between the love of God
and the love of all reality” and sanctifies all dimensions of life.
Christianity, in contrast, encourages asceticism as a means of
transcending our creaturely nature.
Jorge Mario Bergoglio—now better known as Pope Francis—strongly disagrees. In On Heaven and Earth,
a series of conversations with Rabbi Abraham Skorka of Argentina
translated in April, he asserts that Christianity must understand the
needs of humans. He rejects attempts to impose dogmatic principles onto
human life, and thinks that the Church must be sensitive, and even
sometimes deferential, to cultural change.
Indeed, he notes, “religion
has a right to give an opinion as long as it is in service to the
people.” In so arguing, he presents a vision of Catholicism that is both
deeply principled and unabashedly heterodox.
Bergoglio insists that the Church cannot transcend culture. He is
unafraid to illustrate how the Church has changed in response to
shifting cultural trends, pointing to, for instance, its recent
acceptance of divorcees as full members. He takes this point further by
suggesting that more changes might be necessary.
In an astonishing
concession, he opines that the Church’s sensitivity to the course of
human events might someday lead it to discard the celibacy requirement
for the clergy. This suggestion is difficult to square with the Catholic
catechism, which declares that those who follow the “consecrated life”
bear the “obligation of practicing chastity in celibacy for the sake of
the Kingdom, poverty and obedience.”
To Bergoglio, however, this
obligation is not necessarily eternally binding. Moreover, “cultural
reasons” might one day render it unwise.
To be sure, Bergoglio does not embrace modern society wholeheartedly.
He condemns its excessive attention to material concerns as
“narcissistic, consumerist, and hedonistic.” Moreover, he argues that
the theological precepts formulated by the Church Fathers in the third
and fourth centuries—Catholicism’s “inheritance”—are “nonnegotiable.”
However, he indicates that Church’s deeply-held precepts were
“deepen[ed]” and “refine[d]” over time in response to social pressures.
In his view, even our understanding of God is culturally specific, as
every society takes the divine image and “translates it in accordance
with the culture, and elaborates, purifies and gives it a system.”
He
therefore expresses satisfaction that many of his seminarians are
college educated, as the “cosmopolitan perspective” they developed in
the academy will attune them to cultural change.
Bergoglio’s concern with culture makes him wary of disrupting it. To
that end, he hesitates to wield his religious authority in contemporary
political debates. He proudly declares that he rarely spoke out on
political matters during his tenure as a bishop in Buenos Aires, and
that when he did, his objections were procedural, not philosophical. For
instance, he denounced the government’s decision not to appeal
judicially authorized gay marriage based solely on his determination
that the judge had overreached and that the government was preventing
appeals. Believing that appeals to religion in the public sphere are
inherently intrusive, he refused to invoke scriptural authority.
Bergoglio therefore reserves special criticism for religious leaders
who rejoice in imposing their views on the public. He lambasts the
phenomenon of “clericalism,” when priests make religious demands of
their followers in regards to political or social questions. Bergoglio
rejects these priests because he believes religion exists to serve the
people and thus cannot issue edicts that the people do not seek out.
In
fact, Bergoglio believes that the separation of civil and ecclesiastical
authority reflects divine intent. Since God grants humanity “freedom to
sin,” Bergoglio reasons, the Church must “defend the autonomy of human
events,” even if doing so encourages widespread violation of Catholic
doctrine. Religious leaders, in Bergoglio’s view, must not mistake their
obligation to encourage their parishioners with a mandate for coercion.
They must accept the limits of their position.
In accordance with this stance, his guidance for priests regarding
political issues is nuanced. He argues that even though they are
obligated to bring Christian ethics to bear on today’s problems, they
must strenuously avoid “partisan politics.”
To that end, Bergoglio
formulates a narrow credo for the priest who wishes to enter the
political sphere: “Do not preach against anyone...refer to the value
that is in danger and that must be safeguarded.”
He must stay above the
fray of political debates to the greatest extent possible.
Bergoglio is
not naive, however, and recognizes that sermons have political
ramifications even if priests make no explicit political demands. He
thus advises priests to always remain mindful of their rhetoric.
However, his call for rhetorical caution is at odds with his own
fiery pronouncements on politics. He decries inadequate social programs
for the elderly as “covert euthanasia” and declares that if society
hopes to achieve “social justice,” it must guarantee “social benefits,
dignified retirement, vacation time, rest, and freedom of unions.”
Certainly, it is excruciatingly difficult to interpret these statements
apolitically, as Bergoglio’s preferences are only achievable through the
same “partisan politics” he decries. Likewise, one wonders how
Bergoglio squares these statements with his decision not to vote
because, in his words, he “cannot be wrapped in a political flag.”
By
removing himself from the political process, he makes the realization of
these goals much more unlikely. To complicate matters, he argues
elsewhere that politics can serve as a “very elevated form of social
charity.”
This statement implies that individuals can fulfill a core
religious obligation through politics.
However, it follows that
religious leaders should play a larger, not smaller, role in
political affairs. Bergoglio appears torn between his devotion to social
goals and his distaste for the process of actualizing them.
However, one must not confuse Bergoglio’s wariness of politics with
scorn for humanity. Bergoglio is wary of ecclesiastical involvement in
politics precisely because he venerates the human experience. If the
Church were to start commenting on concrete political matters, he
reasons, its followers would no longer decide these matters for
themselves.
As such, they would forfeit an essential element of their
personhood. “If God, in creation, ran the risk of making us free,”
Bergoglio wonders, “who am I to get involved?”
Bergoglio’s abdication
from the political realm therefore underscores his embrace of
humanity.
He is unwilling to infantilize his followers, despite their
manifold failings.
Indeed, he believes they are free to accept his
counsel but obligated to chart their own course.
His is a religion for
adults.