SSPX, the German Church, and the Crisis of Unity

The Society of St. Pius X’s recent announcement that it plans to consecrate new bishops in July, even without papal approval, invites inevitable comparisons with another group that continues to move against Vatican guidelines: the German Church. 

In recent years, the Vatican and SSPX seemed content with a situation in which no one could clearly explain how the society fits into the Church at all—a striking example of Roman pragmatism. In the case of the German Church, a different pragmatism has been at work. The Synodal Way formally concluded in 2023, but there are plans to institutionalize its legacy in a permanent national synodal conference—yet another deliberative body. Pope Francis was never fully convinced by the German process or its outcomes, and it remains to be seen how Pope Leo XIV will respond. The German bishops themselves are divided over the purpose and authority of the new structure. Rome’s soft interventions thus far have proven ineffective, not least because “synodality” has come to mean very different things to different people.

From a legal standpoint, the contrast is stark. The SSPX exists in a precarious and ambiguous canonical situation, while the German bishops are fully integrated into the Church’s legal and institutional framework. Yet both challenge the Church’s authority in problematic ways. The SSPX challenges official church documents, beginning with Vatican II, while the German bishops largely view themselves as the principal guardians and interpreters of the conciliar legacy. Just as the Germans implicitly claim a mandate to guide the universal Church toward a deeper reception of the Council, the SSPX claims the right to conditionally accept church teaching and law. At this point, the two camps neither meaningfully communicate with each other nor exhibit a healthy relationship with the pope. In both cases, obedience appears strained, selective, or instrumentalized.

Despite vast differences in size and theological orientation, both groups exhibit similar patterns of thought. Like many movements of our time, they appear trapped in what might be called algorithmic echo chambers—internally diverse yet unified by strong ideological boundaries. Chesterton’s image of the “perfect but narrow circle” comes to mind. Both camps have been constructing such circles for decades. Liturgy plays a central role in these conflicts, but it is not the only, or even the most decisive, issue at stake.

Contrary to some opinions, neither group represents the most extreme, opposing interpretations of Vatican II. The SSPX is not synonymous with sedevacantism, and the German bishops are far removed from explicit modernism. Yet in both groups, those who attempt to move beyond the dominant ideological boundaries face resistance. Hardened identities are real in the Church. The SSPX guards its super‑orthodox reputation, while German church leaders are sensitive to condemnation from academic theologians and public opinion, both of which tend to lean liberal.

The contrast in ecclesial experience is nonetheless significant. The SSPX has largely withdrawn from normal church life, while the German bishops confront the full complexity of contemporary ecclesial reality. Yet within the Synodal Way, genuinely traditional voices were largely absent. Even moderate perspectives often withdrew, while more radical reform proposals gained disproportionate visibility. Both sides, moreover, are deeply resistant to bridge‑building. Speculate about religious freedom or liturgical reform, and traditionalist alarm bells sound; suggest a reassessment of Vatican II or ad orientem worship, and diocesan bureaucracies respond with thinly veiled contempt.

This raises a fundamental question: What, if anything, can disrupt these self‑reinforcing patterns? Is it unreasonable to reconsider canonical interventions, including penalties already outlined in church law, instead of relying on vague, ineffective mechanisms, since the Church must enforce its doctrine and law consistently, not selectively?

Alternatively, this may be the moment for robust and honest inclusion—one that exposes both camps to the full ecclesial spectrum, including each other. Ultimately, both the SSPX and the German Church function as symbols of unresolved tensions affecting the entire Church. It would be a mistake to reduce the SSPX to a fringe curiosity, just as it would be misleading to equate the German Church with its most eccentric public expressions.

Rome’s response thus far has largely been one of delay. This is understandable, given that similar tensions exist within the Roman Curia itself, which appears increasingly ill‑equipped to address them. Diplomatic and technocratic strategies of “pastoral management” are unlikely to succeed. The current crisis cannot be managed from above, not because authority is irrelevant, but because the hierarchy lacks the omnipotence often implicitly ascribed to it. The expectation that it should possess such power is itself a legacy—partly unexamined—of Vatican I and II, now reemerging under the banner of managed synodality.

The deeper issue concerns the nature of unity. Too often, unity is imagined as “the other becoming more like oneself”—a temptation evident on both sides. The Church’s mode of operation in postmodernity remains unclear. Some strategies once seen as promising, including aspects of Vatican II and its reception, now appear more limited than previously thought. This is neither a moment for uncritical continuation nor for reactionary retrenchment. It is a moment for honesty about the Council’s limitations and about the Church’s broader attempts to engage a changing world.

We cannot engineer paradigm shifts that simply remodel biblical and traditional elements at will. Nor can the Church afford to remain fixated on liturgical disputes, a fixation that is its own form of clericalism. Doctrinal unity requires genuine theological pluralism, including within German academic theology, which is often shaped by forms of institutional groupthink. At the same time, the authority of the hierarchy—whether papal, episcopal, conciliar, or synodal—is not absolute. Church renewal is not primarily a top‑down project modeled on policymaking.

Faith in Christ is a living tradition: coherent, organic, and inexhaustible. Some elements remain unchanged; others develop slowly and organically.

The most reliable path out of ecclesial echo chambers is mission. Evangelization is the Church’s primary purpose and the most effective catalyst for internal renewal. As Pope Francis observed, the German Synodal Way faltered in part because it became detached from this fundamental task. Like evangelization, genuine church reform—liturgical or otherwise—emerges less from centralized control than from personal encounter, gradual conversion, and organic growth.

No one in the Church has the authority either to refashion the sacred tradition at will or to immobilize it. What is required instead is conversion and humility. Only these can overcome divisions and open a viable future. Across the Church—not only in Germany—bridge‑building must cease to be treated as betrayal, whether of alleged tradition or alleged progress.

Such humility must be embraced by all: by those who evade episcopal and papal authority, by those who trivialize doctrine and tradition, and by those who deny the limits of papalism, conciliarity, or synodality. With an Augustinian pope, there may yet be an opportunity for genuine conversion—to Christ mediator humilis, the same yesterday, today, and forever.