Cardinal Ratzinger Made A Speech In 1989 That Has A Lot To Do With The Plans Of B16 In 2012

These two Popes had a plan all along, and in 2012 we will see if it bears fruit or blows up the Church in the West.

I've been meditating on Fr Sivalon's piece in the National Catholic Reporter about the upcoming Year of the Faith in which Sivalon writes that the big purge is coming to clean out the last of progressive thought in the Church. I came across this following speech that the then Cardinal Ratzinger gave during a meeting with CDF personnel and the Presidents of the European Doctrinal Commission. Cardinal Ratzinger gave the opening address which I reprint here in full. Keep in mind the year of this address is 1989. Twenty three years ago Cardinal Ratzinger was boldly stating where the Church was going in regards to cultural issues. In 2012 his war strategy is fully evolving.  The following was in pdf format so I'm not quite sure how it's going to look when posted.  I will be off to work and so won't be posting for a few days, but I really want to encourage readers of the blog to digest this rather dense and circuitous piece because it lays out exactly the strategy Herr Ratzinger intended to use and has used to keep gays and women in their place, and the priesthood in it's pristine Trentan form.

Retrieving the Tradition

DIFFICULTIES CONFRONTING
THE FAITH IN EUROPE TODAY1
• Joseph Ratzinger •
“We can give a meaningful answer to
the questions raised only if we . . . are
able to express the logic of the Faith in its
integrity, the good sense and reasonableness
of its view of reality and life.”

As bishops who bear responsibility for the faith of the Church in our
countries, we ask ourselves where especially do the difficulties lie
which people have with the faith today and how can we rightly
reply to them.

We need no extensive search in order to answer the first of
these questions. There exists something like a litany of objections to
the practice and teaching of the Church, and nowadays its regular
recitation has become like the performance of a duty for
progressive-thinking Catholics. We can ascertain the principal
elements of this litany: the rejection of the Church’s teaching about
contraception, which means the placing upon the same moral level
of every kind of means for the prevention of conception upon
whose application only individual “conscience” may decide; the
rejection of every form of “discrimination” as to homosexuality and
the consequent assertion of a moral equivalence for all forms of
sexual activity as long as they are motivated by “love” or at least do
not hurt anyone; the admission of the divorced who remarry to the
Church’s sacraments; and the ordination of women to the priesthood.
As we can see, there are quite different issues linked together
in this litany. The first two claims pertain to the field of sexual
morality; the second two to the Church’s sacramental order. A
closer look makes it clear, however, that these four issues, their
differences notwithstanding, are very much linked together. They
spring from one and the same vision of humanity within which
there operates a particular notion of human freedom. When this
background is borne in mind, it becomes evident that the litany of
objections goes even deeper than it appears at first glance.

What does this vision of humanity, upon which this litany
depends, look like on closer scrutiny? Its fundamental characteristics
are as diffuse as the claims which derive from it, and so it can be
easily traced. We find our starting point in the plausible assertion
that modern man would find it difficult to relate to the Church’s
traditional sexual morality. Instead, it is said, he has come to terms
with his sexuality in a differentiated and less confining way and thus
urges a revision of standards which are no longer acceptable in the
present circumstances, no matter how meaningful they may have
been under past historical conditions. The next step, then, consists
in showing how we today have finally discovered our rights and the
freedom of our conscience and how we are no longer prepared to
subordinate it to some external authority. Furthermore, it is now
time that the fundamental relationship between man and woman be
reordered, that outmoded role expectations be overturned and that
complete equality of opportunity be accorded women on all levels
and in all fields. The fact that the Church, as the particularly
conservative institution that she is, might not go along with this line
of thinking would certainly not be surprising. If the Church,
however, would wish to promote human freedom, then ultimately
she will be obliged to set aside the theological justification of old
social taboos, and the most timely and vital sign of such a desire at
the present moment would be her consent to the ordination of
women to the priesthood.

The roots of this opposition continue to emerge in various
forms and make it clear that what we are dealing with in our
imaginary but quite pointed litany is nothing less than a very
coherent reorientation.

Its key concepts present themselves in the words “conscience”
and “freedom,” which are supposed to confer the aura of
morality upon changed norms of behavior that at first glance would
be plainly labelled as a surrender of moral integrity, the simplifications
of a lax conscience.

No longer is conscience understood as that knowledge
which derives from a higher form of knowing. It is instead the
individual’s self-determination which may not be directed by
someone else, a determination by which each person decides for
himself what is moral in a given situation.

The concept “norm”—or what is even worse, the moral law
itself—takes on negative shades of dark intensity: an external rule
may supply models for direction but it can in no case serve as the
ultimate arbiter of one’s obligation. Where such thinking holds
sway, the relationship of man to his body necessarily changes too.
This change is described as a liberation, when compared to the
relationship obtaining until now, like an opening up to a freedom
long unknown. The body then comes to be considered as a
possession which a person can make use of in whatever way seems
to him most helpful in attaining “quality of life.” The body is
something that one has and that one uses. No longer does man
expect to receive a message from his bodiliness as to who he is and
what he should do, but definitely, on the basis of his reasonable
deliberations and with complete independence, he expects to do
with it as he wishes. In consequence, there is indeed no difference
whether the body be of the masculine or the feminine sex, the body
no longer expresses being at all, on the contrary, it has become a
piece of property. It may be that man’s temptation has always lain in
the direction of such control and the exploitation of goods. At its
roots, however, this way of thinking first became an actual possibility
through the fundamental separation—not a theoretical but a
practical and constantly practiced separation—of sexuality and
procreation. This separation was introduced with the pill and has
been brought to its culmination by genetic engineers so that man
can now “make” human beings in the laboratory. The material for
doing this has to be procured by actions deliberately carried out for
the sake of the planned results which no longer involve interpersonal
human bonds and decisions in any way. Indeed, where this kind of
thinking has been completely adopted, the difference between
homosexuality and heterosexuality as well as that between sexual
relations within or outside marriage have become unimportant.
Likewise divested of every metaphysical symbolism is the distinction
between man and woman, which is to be regarded as the product of
reinforced role expectations.

It would be interesting to follow in detail this revolutionary
vision about man which has appeared behind our rather haphazardly
concocted litany of objections to the Church’s teaching. Without a
doubt this will be one of the principal challenges for anthropological
reflection in coming years. This reflection will have to sort out
meticulously where quite meaningful corrections to traditional
notions appear and where there begins a truly fundamental opposition
to faith’s vision of man, an opposition that admits no possibility
of compromise but places squarely before us the alternative of
believing or not. Such reflection cannot be conducted in a context
which is more interested in discerning the questions which we have
to pose for ourselves today than in looking for the answers. Let us
leave off this dispute for now; our question instead must be, how
does it happen that values which presuppose such a background have
become current among Christians?

It has become quite evident at the present time that our
litany of objections does not turn upon a few isolated conflicts over
this or that sacramental practice in the Church, nor is it over the
extended application of this or that rule. Each of these controversies
rests upon a much more far-reaching change of “paradigms,” that is,
of the basic ideas of being and of human obligation. This is the case
even if only a small number of those who mouth the words of our
litany would be aware of the change involved.

They all breathe in, so to speak, the atmosphere of this
particular vision of man and the world which convinces them of the
plausibility of this one opinion while removing other views from
consideration. Who would not be for conscience and freedom and
against legalism and constraint? Who wishes to be put into the

position of defending taboos? If the questions are framed in this way,
the faith proclaimed by the Magisterium is already manoeuvred into
a hopeless position. It collapses all by itself because it loses its
plausibility according to the thought patterns of the modern world,
and is looked upon by progressive contemporaries as something that
has been long superseded.

We can then give a meaningful answer to the questions
raised, only if we do not permit ourselves to be drawn into the
battle over details and are able instead to express the logic of the
faith in its integrity, the good sense and reasonableness of its view of
reality and life. We can give a proper answer to the conflicts in
detail only if we keep all the relationships in view. It is their
disappearance which has robbed the Faith of its reasonableness.
In this context, I would like to list three areas within the
world-view of the Faith which have witnessed a certain kind of
reduction in the last centuries, a reduction which has been gradually
preparing the way for another “paradigm.”

1. In the first place, we have to point out the almost
complete disappearance of the doctrine on creation from theology.
As typical instances, we may cite two compendia of modern
theology in which the doctrine on creation is eliminated as part of
the content of the faith and is replaced by vague considerations from
existential philosophy, the 1973 edition of the ecumenical “Neues
Glaubensbuch” published by J. Feiner and L. Vischer, and the basic
catechetical work published in Paris in 1984, “La foi des
catholiques.” In a time when we are experiencing the agonizing of
creation against man’s work and when the question of the limits and
standards of creation upon our activity has become the central
problem of our ethical responsibility, this fact must appear quite
strange. Notwithstanding all this, it remains always a disagreeable
fact that “nature” should be viewed as a moral issue. An anxious and
unreasonable reaction against technology is also closely associated
with the inability to discern a spiritual message in the material world.
Nature still appears as an irrational form even while evincing
mathematical structures which we can study technically. That nature
has a mathematical intelligibility is to state the obvious, the assertion
that it also contains in itself a moral intelligibility, however, is
rejected as metaphysical fantasy. The demise of metaphysics goes
hand in hand with the displacement of the teaching on creation.

Their place has been taken by a philosophy of evolution (which I
would like to distinguish from the scientific hypothesis of evolution).
This philosophy intends to discard the laws of nature so that
the management of its development may make a better life possible.
Nature, which ought really to be the teacher along this path, is
instead a blind mistress, combining by unwitting chance what man
is supposed to simulate now with full consciousness. His relationship
to nature (which is, to be sure, no creation) remains that of one who
acts upon it; it is in no way that of a learner. It persists as a relationship
of domination, then, resting upon the presumption that rational
calculation may be as clever as “evolution” and can therefore lift the
world to new heights. The process of development up to this point
had to struggle along without human intervention.

Conscience, to which appeal is made, is essentially mute, just
as nature, the teacher, is blind, it just computes which action holds
the best chances for betterment. This can (and should, according to
the logic of the point of departure) occur in a collective way, for
what is needed is a party which, as the vanguard of history, takes
evolution in hand while exacting the absolute subordination of the
individual to it. Otherwise, things occur individualistically and
conscience then becomes the expression of the subject’s autonomy
which, in terms of the grand world picture, can only seem absurd
arrogance.

It is quite obvious that none of these solutions is helpful, and
this is the basis for the deep desperation of mankind today, a
desperation which hides behind an official façade of optimism.
Nevertheless there is still a silent awareness of the need of an
alternative to lead us out of the blind alleys of our plausibilities, and
perhaps there is also, more than we think, a silent hope that a
renewed Christianity may supply the alternative. This can be
accomplished, however, only if the teaching on creation is developed
anew. Such an undertaking, then, ought to be regarded as one
of the most pressing tasks of theology today.

We have to make evident once more what is meant by the
world’s having been created “in wisdom” and that God’s creative act
is something quite other than the “bang” of a primeval explosion.
Only then can conscience and norm enter again into proper
relationship. For then it will become clear that conscience is not
some individualistic (or collective) calculation; rather it is a “consciens,”
a “knowing along with” creation and, through creation,
with God the Creator. Then, too, it will be rediscovered that man’s
greatness does not lie in the miserable autonomy of proclaiming
himself his one and only master, but in the fact that his being allows
the highest wisdom, truth itself, to shine through. Then it will
become clear that man is so much the greater the more he is capable
of hearing the profound message of creation, the message of the
Creator. And then it will be apparent how harmony with creation,
whose wisdom becomes our norm, does not mean a limitation upon
our freedom but is rather an expression of our reason and our
dignity. Then the body also is given its due honor: it is no longer
something “used,” but is the temple of authentic human dignity
because it is God’s handiwork in the world. Then is the equal
dignity of man and woman made manifest precisely in the fact that
they are different. One will then begin to understand once again that
their bodiliness reaches the metaphysical depths and is the basis of a
symbolic metaphysics whose denial or neglect does not ennoble man
but destroys him.

2. The decline of the doctrine on creation includes the
decline of metaphysics, man’s imprisonment in the empirical, as we
have said. When this occurs, however, there is also of necessity a
weakening of Christology. The Word who was in the beginning
quite disappears. Creative wisdom is no longer a theme for reflection.
Inevitably the figure of Jesus Christ, deprived of its metaphysical
dimension, is reduced to a purely historical Jesus, to an “empirical”
Jesus, who, like every empirical fact, contains only what is
capable of happening. The central title of his dignity, “Son,”
becomes void where the path to the metaphysical is cut off. Even
this title becomes meaningless since there is no longer a theology of
being sons of God, for it is replaced by the notion of autonomy.
The relationship of Jesus with God is now expressed in terms
such as “representative” or the like, but as regards what this means,
one must seek an answer by the reconstruction of the “historical
Jesus.”

There are today two principal models for the alleged figure
of the historical Jesus: the bourgeois-liberal and the Marxist revolutionary.
Jesus was either the herald of a liberal morality,
struggling against every kind of “legalism” and its representatives; or
he was a subversive who can be considered as the deification of the
class struggle and its religious symbolic figure.

Evident in the background are the two aspects of the
modern notion of freedom, which are seen embodied in Jesus; this
is what makes him God’s representative. The unmistakable symptom
of the present decline of Christology is the disappearance of the
Cross and, consequently, the meaninglessness of the Resurrection,
of the Paschal Mystery. In the liberal model, the Cross is an
accident, a mistake, the result of short-sighted legalism. It cannot
therefore be made the subject of theological speculation; indeed it
really should not have occurred and a proper liberalism makes it in
any event superfluous.

In the second model Jesus is the failed revolutionary. He can
now symbolize the suffering of the oppressed class and thus foster
the growth of class consciousness. From this viewpoint the Cross can
even be given a certain sense, an important meaning, but one which
is radically opposed to the witness of the New Testament.
Now in both these versions there runs a common thread,
namely, that we must be saved not through the Cross, but from the
Cross. Atonement and forgiveness are misunderstandings from
which Christianity has to be freed. The two fundamental points of
the Christian faith of the New Testament writers and of the Church
in every age (the divine sonship understood in a metaphysical sense
and the Paschal Mystery) are eliminated or at least bereft of any
function. It is obvious that with such a basic reinterpretation all the
rest of Christianity is likewise altered—the understanding of what
the Church is, the liturgy, spirituality, etc.

Naturally these crude denials, which I have described here
with all the severity of their consequences, are seldom spoken of so
openly. The movements, however, are clear and they do not confine
themselves to the realm of theology alone. For quite some time they
have entered into preaching and catechesis; on account of the ease
of their transmission, they are even more pronounced in these fields
than in strictly theological literature. Quite clearly, then, the real
decisions today fall once again in the field of Christology; everything
else follows from that.

3. Finally, I should like to refer briefly to a third field of
theological reflection which is threatened by a thoroughgoing
reduction of the contents of faith, namely, eschatology. Belief in
eternal life has hardly any role to play in preaching today. A friend
of mine, recently deceased, an exegete of note, once told me of
some Lenten sermons he had heard at the beginning of the 1970s.
In the first sermon, the preacher explained to the faithful that Hell
does not exist; in the second, Purgatory went the same way; in the
third, he eventually undertook the difficult task of trying to
convince his hearers that even Heaven does not exist and that we
should seek our paradise here on earth. To be sure, it is seldom as
drastic as that, but diffidence in speaking about the hereafter has
become commonplace.

The Marxist accusation that Christians justified the injustices
of this world with the consolation of the world to come is deeply
rooted, and the present social problems are now indeed so serious
that they require all the powers of moral commitment. This moral
requirement will not at all be called into question by the one who
views the Christian life in the perspective of eternity, for eternal life
cannot be prepared for otherwise than in our present existence.
Nicholas Cabasilas, for example, expressed this truth in a wonderful
reflection in the fourteenth century. Only those attain to it (that is,
the future life) who already are its friends and have ears to hear. For
it is not there that friendship is begun, that the ear is opened, that
the wedding garment is readied and all else prepared, it is rather this
present life which is the work place where all this is fashioned. For
just as nature prepares the embryo, even while it leads a dark and
confined existence, for living in the light and forms it, as it were,
according to the pattern of the life that is to come, just so does it
happen with the saints. Only the exigency of eternal life confers its
absolute urgency on the moral duty of this life. If, however, heaven
is only something “ahead” of us and no longer “above” us, then the
interior tension of human existence and its communal responsibility
are slackened. For we indeed are not “ahead,” and whether this
prospect of what is ahead is a heaven for those others who appear to
us to have gone “ahead,” we are not in a position to determine,
since they are as free and as subject to temptation as we are ourselves.
Here we find the deception inherent in the idea of the
“better world,” which, nonetheless, appears today even among
Christians as the true goal of our hope and the genuine standard of
morality. The “Kingdom of God” has been almost completely
substituted in the general awareness, as far as I can see, by the Utopia
of a better future world for which we labor and which becomes the
true reference point of morality—a morality which thus blends again
Difficulties Confronting the Faith in Europe Today 737
with a philosophy of evolution and history, and creates norms for
itself by calculating what can offer better conditions of life.
I do not deny that it is in just this way that the idealistic
energies of young people are unleashed and that the results are
fruitful in terms of new aspirations to selfless activity. As an allembracing
norm for human endeavor, however, the future does not
suffice. Where the Kingdom of God is reduced to the “better
world” of tomorrow, the present will ultimately assert its rights
against some imaginary future. The escape into the world of drugs
is the logical consequence of the idolizing of Utopia. Since this has
difficulty in arriving, man draws it to himself or throws himself
headlong into it. It is dangerous, therefore, if the better world
terminology predominates in prayers and sermons and inadvertently
replaces the faith with a placebo.
***
All that has been said here may appear to many to be all too
negative. It was not intended, of course, to describe the situation of
the Church as a whole, with all her positive and negative elements.
It was rather a case of setting out the obstacles to the faith in the
European context.

Within this limited theme, I have not claimed to present an
exhaustive analysis. My sole intention was to examine, beyond the
individual problems which are constantly surfacing, the deepest
motives which give rise to the individual difficulties in ever
changing forms.

Only by learning to understand that fundamental trait of
modern existence which refuses to accept the faith before discussing
all its contents, will we be able to regain the initiative instead of
simply responding to the questions raised. Only then can we reveal
the faith as the alternative which the world awaits after the failure of
the liberalistic and Marxist experiments. This is today’s challenge to
Christianity, herein lies our great responsibility as Christians at the
present time.