There is always a glint of truth in every heresy. Ask Arius. Disagreeing with official dogma did not start in his, the fourth century. He worried that putting Jesus on the same par with God the Father would be blasphemous. Certainly the Lord was a miracle worker and a preacher of life-giving liberty, no argument there. But consubstantial with the Father, as we affirm every weekend at Mass? This is probably the most controversial word of that time, homoousios in the original Greek of the 325 Council of Nicea, the convention of Roman empire-wide bishops convened by Constantine, the not-yet baptized emperor. Since we did not yet have a sacrament of reconciliation, Christians felt that a once-only forgiveness of sin was possible at initiation. Thus, many delayed baptism until their death-bed. His intent was not devotional but political: he was tired of fights about the status of the Lord dividing his domain. I bet we all liked that church change.
Critics of Pope Francis express concern about several things, such as the mercy he wanted shown to divorced and remarried Catholics who had not had their failed marriage or marriages annulled by the church process but who want to receive Communion; or else the acceptance of various forms of paganism, especially at the October Amazon synod. This last controversy pertains to the common practice of costumed native groups from around the world performing liturgical dances in Rome’s Saint Peter’s Basilica, where the synod took place.
The media have been reporting for several years about the small but strong opposition to the Holy Father’s governance from a few traditionalist Catholics.
The unifying thread of these controversies is an unspoken assumption that they represent mistaken change. Church history abounds with this phenomenon. Traditionalists have an admirable respect for tradition, one of the sources of divine revelation, along with Scripture. All should agree it is not something to be played with or made light of. Church history shows how Catholics painstakingly have distinguished unchangeable bedrock from time-conditioned, replaceable practices in our illustrious past. You remember Vatican II and the furor over changing Latin in the Mass, attending Protestant weddings, burying suicides in Catholic cemeteries, permitting psychiatric material in annulment cases, ecumenical outreach for Christian unity, and so many more changes, even as to women wearing hats in church.
Too often we are programmed to view change with suspicion. Psychologically we resist it because it usually calls for effort and discomfort to adjust something familiar. But if we did not have it in the church, we would still be burning witches and heretics at the stake, or circumcising adult male converts, or forbidding the taking of even small interest on a loan, or allowing slavery or capital punishment.
The above is important to me because I see so much unnecessary strife in the church over what can and cannot be changed. History shows it can and must be done according to norms time-tested and dependable. There are zealous priests who are critics of Pope Francis because they want to safeguard what the past has developed and kept. They are loyal to a commendable adherence to tradition. But one thing a traditionalist is bound to do is respect authority. When critics opposed Pope Paul VI’s banning of artificial contraception in 1968, they were reminded about fidelity to Rome and to the pope’s teaching authority.
The dictionary tells that the word “heresy” means the picking and choosing of truths. How often were we reminded that we may not be cafeteria Catholics? It is a human tendency to prefer some truths or facts or practices over others. But we should do this without confusing those around us by elevating our opinions to the level of doctrine, even when cardinals speak. They too can be wrong, as were Arian bishops long after Nicea.













