Is Theology Still Queen?

Has theology become devalued in the contemporary Catholic Church? I sometimes fear that this is the case—and for the following reasons.  

Ever since the implementation of the Charter for the Protection of Children and Young People (colloquially known as the Dallas Charter) in 2002, many American bishops have been quick to suspend priests from ministry, even when allegations are decades old and evidentially unsupported.  Accused priests are relegated to wearing the scarlet letter of abuse for the rest of their lives—and having their names displayed on the internet as “credibly accused abusers.” 

This has led some to conclude that the priesthood is no longer a unique vocation, a permanent consecration to Jesus Christ, but is little more than a low-paying job, with priests themselves eminently dispensable employees. Such was not the intention of the bishops—but it has been an aftereffect of their decisions. For the procedures emanating from the Charter undermine and corrode the ontological density of the sacrament of Holy Orders.  

Cardinal Avery Dulles recognized this point immediately. He lamented that the bishops had “opted for an extreme response” and that certain episcopal actions reinforce “the false impression that priesthood is a job dependent on contract rather than a sacrament conferred by Christ.” The bishops’ actions have so undermined priestly morale that, as the National Study of Catholic Priests has recently shown, only 24 percent of priests trust the American episcopacy as a whole. Poor theology and a panicked response have led precisely to what Dulles feared from the outset: an “adversarial relationship” between priests and bishops, and the obfuscation of a priest’s unique configuration to Christ. 

Pope Francis, too, has taken certain actions that stir theological concern. For example, he summarily removed Daniel Fernández Torres from the bishopric of Arecibo, Puerto Rico, in 2022 for reasons that—as far as they are known publicly—are inconsequential. Papal actions of this sort appear to confirm the suspicions of the nineteenth-century chancellor of Germany, Otto von Bismarck, who claimed that the universal and immediate jurisdiction over the Church that the First Vatican Council dogmatically ascribed to the bishop of Rome would diminish the status of Catholic bishops—from successors of the apostles to mere “branch managers.” If a bishop can be removed from office for what seems, at least on the surface, to be papal impulse, can one argue that Bismarck was in error?

Further, Pope Francis, in a 2017 address, spoke of the death penalty as “per se contrary to the Gospel.” Yet the imposition of the death penalty by the civil state, in carefully delineated circumstances, has been deemed legitimate by the Catholic Church for century upon century. Can one claim then, as Francis has, that his recent teaching represents a “harmonious development of doctrine”? Neither of the two great artisans of doctrinal development, Vincent of Lérins in the fifth century and John Henry Newman in the nineteenth, would speak in this way. Both thinkers outlined a linear, homogeneous understanding of development that does not include reversals of prior positions. And while Catholic theology has the wherewithal to account for reversals, does the pope really wish to insist that a teaching confidently proffered by Catholicism for over a millennium has now become “per se contrary to the Gospel”?   

Of course, Pope Francis might argue that there has been organic development as far as appreciating the inviolable dignity of every human being. Fair enough. This was precisely the logic John Courtney Murray adduced at Vatican II when arguing for religious freedom. Nonetheless, as regards the material content of the teaching on capital punishment, “harmonious development” seems overstated.  

Examples of this kind can be multiplied, but the point is transparent: On several levels of contemporary Catholicism, clear theological thinking seems to have taken a back seat. And yet, the work of theologians has always been revered as essential to the lifeblood of the Church. 

The aforesaid St. Vincent, for example, writing soon after the Council of Ephesus concluded in a.d. 431, argued that the Church must unceasingly defend the deposit of faith. He was deeply enamored of St. Paul’s counsel: “Guard the deposit, Timothy!” (1 Tim. 6:20) But Vincent then asked the crucial question, “Quis est hodie Timotheus?” Who is Timothy today? Who is charged with guarding the deposit of faith today? Vincent’s answer is deeply attractive in its polycentrism. Among those so charged are ecumenical councils, the faithful themselves, and the bishop of Rome, together with his episcopal confreres.    

But Vincent reserves a special place for theologians. Indeed, in his hierarchy of authorities, Vincent deems the teaching of theologians as second in rank, just after universal councils. But since councils have only pronounced on a few questions, Vincent encourages the faithful to look to the consent existing among holy and learned doctors: “Within antiquity itself, to the boldness of the opinions of one or a few, there should be preferred above all else the general decrees of a universal council, although if none exists on a particular matter, then that which is next best, the opinion of numerous and important theological masters.” 

This is not to say that Vincent is entirely uncritical of theologians. He recognizes that even great thinkers can go astray by harboring idiosyncratic positions. Nonetheless, Vincent notes that theologians hold unique appointments in the Church of God, with St. Paul counting doctors in third place after apostles and prophets (1 Cor. 12:28). A reliable opinion about the faith is one that is taught by a “council of doctors.” Early in the Church’s life, then, Vincent recognizes the crucial role that theology and theologians must play in ecclesial decisions.

Even more insistent on the role of theologians in the Church is that other great champion of doctrinal development (and translator of Vincent’s work), St. John Henry Newman. Like Vincent, Newman is also concerned with the question, “Who is Timothy today?” 

Newman likewise offers a multifaceted vision of the Church’s teaching authority, with theologians again having an essential role. Like Vincent, Newman does not give all theologians a free pass. On the contrary, he is highly critical of thinkers who succumb to rationalism, singling out Abelard as an example. Indeed, Newman argues that no matter how gifted a theologian, if he departs from the ancient Christian faith, from “that instant Mene and Tekel are written upon his school.” 

Despite this salutary admonition, Newman much more often praises the robust contributions that the schola theologorum makes to the intellectual life of the Church. This admiration is unsurprising since the English cardinal insists that theology is “the fundamental and regulating principle of the whole Church system.”  

Newman lamented the dissolution of theological faculties after the French Revolution precisely because such disintegration short-circuited the full-bodied reflection that must accompany new theological proposals. Only after some proposition had been vigorously debated could an interpretation or development be sanctioned by the entire Church. This is why Newman could write, “Nor is religion ever in greater danger than when, in consequence of national or international troubles, the schools of theology have been broken up and ceased to be.”

For Newman, the work of theologians is essential to guarantee that new ideas are truly ventured, discussed, debated, and refuted or accepted: “None but the Schola Theologorum is competent to determine the force of Papal and Synodal utterances, and the exact interpretation of them is a work of time.” Even popes can occasionally be corrected, since some “seem from time to time to have been wishing, though unsuccessfully, to venture beyond the lines of theology.” 

Vincent of Lérins and John Henry Newman both insist upon the crucial role that theology plays in the life of the Church. Theologians are essential for defending the Christian faith and for ensuring that any developments are consonant with the apostolic tradition. Perhaps these two incisive thinkers and saints can reawaken a renewed esteem for theology’s decisive importance.   

Rev. Msgr. Thomas G. Guarino is professor emeritus of systematic theology at Seton Hall University and the author of The Disputed Teachings of Vatican II: Continuity and Reversal in Catholic Doctrine.