On Shrove Tuesday of last year, we began a series which Mr Phillip Campbell, author of the blog Unam Sanctam Catholicam, has very kindly shared with NLM. It is the result of his investigation into what the writers of the “progressive” theological journal Concilium were saying about reform of the sacrament of Confession in the years which immediately followed the most recent ecumenical council. This newest installment, a detailed consideration of the particularly perverse work of a theologian named Jean-Marie Tillard, is fairly lengthy, and will be presented in two parts. Once again, our thanks to Mr Campbell for sharing his highly interesting and useful work with us.
The year 1971 was a time of heady exhilaration for the liturgical progressives. Their destructive work in the immediate aftermath of Vatican II had borne fruit in the implementation of Paul VI’s Novus Ordo Missae the previous year, and with the successful deconstruction of the ancient liturgy there was the sense that anything was possible. Having razed the bastions of the traditional Mass, the progressives turned their sights towards the sacrament of penance, long a target of liberal antagonism. To this end, Dominican arch-progressive Edward Schillebeeckx published a collection of essays in 1971’s Volume 61 of Concilium, the preeminent organ of liberal theology. I have documented the contents of these essays in previous installments in this series (Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3). Today we will continue this exploration of early 70’s progressivism with a dissection of an essay entitled “The Bread and Cup of Reconciliation” by French Canadian Dominican Jean-Marie Tillard (1927-2000).
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| Fr Tillard wearing the updated habit of a Dominican Doctor of Theology, on the cover of the French edition of his book titled, “I believe, despite everything.” Ça dit tout... |
The Bread and Cup of Reconciliation
Jean-Marie Tillard was a theologian of considerable weight in the post-Conciliar world. He had served as a Canadian peritus at the Second Vatican Council and was a member of the International Theological Commission. He spent much of his life as a professor of dogmatics at the Faculty of Theology at the Dominican University College in Ottawa, but continued to hold numerous prestigious positions on various committees, especially those centered on ecumenism and interreligious dialogue.
His essay “The Bread and Cup of Reconciliation” argues that the requirement to confess all known mortal sins before receiving the Eucharist is theologically incoherent because, ultimately, the Eucharist itself contains all power necessary to remit sin. There is, therefore, no justification for retaining auricular confession of mortal sins in the sacrament of penance as a precondition for reception of Holy Communion. [1] Let us unpack how Tillard arrives at this startling and blasphemous claim.
He begins by noting that Christianity is fundamentally about reconciliation, expanding upon St. Paul’s teaching in 1 Cor. 5, 17-21 (“Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation…all this is from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ,” etc.) [2] But what new reality does the reconciliation of man with God introduce? The state of being reconciled with God is the state of communion, koinonia. This communion is total, not only a reconciliation of man with God, but also man with his fellow men, as well as the restoration the integrity of man within himself. Reconciliation and communion are two sides of the same coin. As Tillard says, “reconciliation and koinonia must go together in God’s realistic plan for men.” [3] The source of this act of reconciliation-communion is Jesus’ death on the cross, where our Lord’s body is offered as a propitiation for the sins of men (cf. Rom. 3, 25, 1 John 2, 2, 4, 10).
This singular act of redemption is mediated to us through the Eucharist, which is the sacrament of reconciliation par excellence. In partaking of Christ’s blood shed for the forgiveness of sins, we are made sons and daughters of God by sharing in Christ’s flesh and blood. Tillard explains:
Admittedly, this reconciliation was accomplished once and for all (ephapax) in the event of the death-and-resurrection of Christ, but once again it is applied to the Church hic et nunc, in its sinful situation, by virtue of the sacramental character of the celebration and meal. By one and the same action the Church is freed from its sin and enters into more authentic koinonia. [4]
Setting aside Tillard’s cringe characterization of the Eucharist as “celebration and meal,” we are on solid ground thus far. Now let’s see what sort of implications he will draw from this.
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| Young People™ gather in Woodstock, New York, in August 1969 for a celebration of the Eucharist in the ritus Tillardensis. (Image from Wikimedia Commons by Derek Redmond and Paul Campbell (no relation) CC BY-SA 3.0) |
The Real Eucharist is the Friends You Made Along the Way
Tillard proceeds to a discussion of baptism, the sacrament by which Christ’s salvation is mediated to us. If the Eucharist is the sacrament of reconciliation par excellence, how does baptism remit sin? Is this a reconciliation distinct from the Eucharist? Drawing on Aquinas, Tillard argues that the reconciliatory power of the Eucharist is operative through baptism, which is ordered towards the Eucharist. [5] Baptism’s power works in reference to the Eucharist, which is the source of all reconciliatory power in the Church. Tillard says:
Theologians speak of a kind of objective desire (votum), implicit in the very nature of baptism and not only in the believer’s intention to be baptized. Aquinas wrote that without the votum of the Eucharist there would be no salvation for man, since no one could attain grace without this aspiration to full eucharistic reconciliation—a form of desire already objectively implied in the structure of baptism and which must pass into the consciousness of the baptized person when mature. The reconciliatory efficacy of baptism depends essentially on the ordination pf baptism at the Lord’s Supper. [6]
In other words, he who desires baptism implicitly desires the Eucharist, since baptism is ordered to the Eucharist.
This line of reasoning is not incorrect, but Tillard will deduce much more from the connection between these two sacraments than is warranted. Having demonstrated the connection of baptism and Eucharist, he turns to the sacred cow of liturgical progressivism—the “communal” nature of the Eucharist. If baptism derives its reconciliatory power from the Eucharist, and if the Eucharist is essentially communal, it follows that reconciliation must also be communal to have a truly Eucharistic orientation.
The very experience of eating together, in an atmosphere of celebration, is redolent of a meeting in love, a mutual opening-forth, an advance beyond mere intrinsic individual existence, and therefore (in consideration of what men actually are) what counts is less the fact of eating than of eating together while sharing the same existential blessing. [7]
According to Tillard, then, the real Eucharist is the friends you made along the way. This is no exaggeration of his position, for he will extend the centrality of human encounter to the very matter of the sacrament itself. If the human fraternity brought about by the Eucharist is what truly matters, then this fraternity is essential to the signification of the sacrament:
The sign that Jesus made the matter of his sacrament is not the bread and wine in their static existence, or even merely in their power to sustain life. It is the bread and the cup already involved in the symbolic act of human encounter and unity. In this way, the reconciliation bestowed is signified in all its fullness: communion with God is recognized here and now in the communion of human brothers. A sign of human brotherhood encloses the mystery of reconciliation. [8]
The matter of the Eucharist is not bread and wine, but bread and wine shared with the community. With this attitude, one must wonder whether Tillard would even admit the validity of a pre-conciliar private Mass!
All this jargon is a way of suggesting that since the Eucharist is a communal act, and since all reconciliation flows from the Eucharist, should we not consider reconciliation to be communal as well?
A Monumental Bait and Switch
Tillard says that the redemption of mankind on the cross and the reconciliation of man with his brothers are both aspects of the Eucharist, such that they cannot be separated without sophistry. “This is one, indivisible sacramental mystery,” he says. [9] At this point, it should not be difficult for the discerning reader to see where he is taking us. If the Eucharist is the sacrament of forgiveness, then receiving the Eucharist is sufficient to wipe out all sin:
In taking the bread and the cup of expiation, the believer participates in the propitiatory power of the cross. His sins are also wiped out…In the most realistic sense of the term, the Eucharist is the sacrament of forgiveness, because is the sacramental presence and communication of the act which remits sins. [10]
You may wonder, perhaps we are being unfair to Tillard here. After all, the Eucharist remits venial sins to those who receive it properly disposed. [11] Perhaps this is what he means? He goes on to explain:
[T]he eucharistic “sacrifice” does not offer another crucifixion but applies the virtue of the cross. But this application relates to all sins, even the most serious, committed after baptism. [12]
But how can this be? Tillard bristles at the idea of the Eucharist effecting forgiveness in a “mechanical” way. Clearly the disposition of the receiver matters. But what specific dispositions could allow for the Eucharist to remit “all sins, even the most serious”? Pay attention, for we are about to witness some remarkable sleight of hand.
Tillard observes that, in order to benefit from this eucharistic forgiveness, a Christian in serious sin must be perfectly disposed, that is, possessed of “a true heart, an unsullied faith, and unmistakable penitence.” [13] Essentially, he is speaking of the obligation to possess perfect contrition before receiving the Eucharist unconfessed. The Code of Canon Law says:
A person who is conscious of grave sin is not to celebrate Mass or receive the body of the Lord without previous sacramental confession unless there is a grave reason and there is no opportunity to confess; in this case the person is to remember the obligation to make an act of perfect contrition which includes the resolution of confessing as soon as possible. [14]
The “grave reason” mentioned in the Code is typically taken to mean danger of death or something of similar gravitas. [15] Tillard, however, opines that this principle should apply normatively for any sinner approaching the Eucharist in general. But one of the characteristics of an act of perfect contrition is that it is rare. While persons of great sanctity are capable of perfect contrition due to their intense charity, for the average schlub in the pews, perfect contrition is usually elicited from the “grave reasons” which make it acceptable before God in place of sacramental absolution. While any decent Catholic facing death may certainly have the wherewithal to be perfectly contrite in such a moment, can we presume he could be so contrite absent such circumstances? And do so regularly?
Tillard recognizes how unlikely such routinized perfect contrition would be, and hence we will see him swap out the concept of “unmistakable penitence” for what might call “good enough” penitence.
As far as the sinner is concerned, the essential expression of this love [of God] is contrition. Through the power of the memorial of the propitiatory sacrifice of the Passover, in the fullness of the communal celebration, God grants the seriously guilty though well-intentioned Christian the grace which allows his contrition to develop and thus permits him to actually receive, together with his brothers, the bread and the cup of reconciliation. [16]
What a monumental bait and switch! We have gone from “unmistakable penitence” to “seriously guilty though well-intentioned.” The traditional concept of perfect contrition has been swapped out for good vibes. Notice how Tillard has also inverted cause and effect: it is not perfect contrition (cause) which enables a sinner to approach Communion (effect); rather, the “well-intentioned” sinner approaches the Eucharist (cause) and God gives him the grace of perfect contrition (effect). How can this be? ~ Tillard sees perfect contrition as implicit in imperfect (“well-intentioned”) contrition. Contrition itself is a gift of God, so if a man is contrite at all, it is a sign that God is calling him to reconciliation. By acting on this impulse and approaching Holy Communion, the sinner responds to grace, and God rewards him by maturing his imperfect sorrow into perfect contrition. This happens in and through the celebration of the Eucharist:
[T]hrough contrition, God already invites man into the full reception of His love…Through the power of the memorial, God moulds [sic] the believer who is well disposed even though culpable of grave sin, and who is taking part in the celebration, in order to make him able truly to eat the bread of salvation and truly drink the cup of the covenant… It is possible for the two moments to be attained in the same act of sacramental manducation. As is known, this is Thomist theory: if the insufficiently contrite sinner approaches the Lord’s table in quite good faith and reverently, together with the body and blood of the Passover, he will receive the charity that inspires his contrition and hence opens him to the friendship of God. [17]
Let us step back to appreciate how truly diabolical this assertion is, for Tillard is teaching that the act of approaching the Eucharist “even though culpable of grave sin” is the very act by which grace “opens him to the friendship of God”! This is nothing less than a devilish inversion of 1 Cor. 11:27-32, a passage which, by the way, is not referenced anywhere in Tillard’s seventeen page essay except once to deny its applicability.
So how much contrition is sufficient? Barely any. Tillard goes on to say that even the lack of contrition suffices so long as the recipient intends to be contrite at some future point. Here he draws a parallel between the votum mentioned above with relation to baptism and the implicit desire for union with God in reception of the Eucharist:
If, at the moment when he approaches the bread and the cup of reconciliation, the sinner has not already taken this step [i.e., mustering up an attitude of contrition] before presenting himself at the banquet of friendship (which, in a sacramental perspective in which the laws of grace are one with the rhythms of human psychology, is the usual attitude), he must then at least have the firm desire (votum) and sincere resolution to take it eventually. There can be no true reconciliation without at least this votum, which is the manifest expression and guarantee of the existence of authentic contrition… [18]
Just like a child brought to the baptismal font has an implicit votum for God that is entirely undefined because of his physical immaturity, the sinner who comes to the Eucharist has an implicit votum for God despite his impenitence that is expressed merely by showing up and intending—at some point in the future—to be contrite and go to confession.
Before we move on, we must challenge Tillard’s assertion that it is “Thomist theory” that an “insufficiently contrite sinner” can approach the Eucharist “in quite good faith” and receive the graces of the sacrament. Tillard cites Aquinas’ respondeo in Summa III, Q. 79, Art. 3 for this assertion. Aquinas is here replying to the assertion that the forgiveness of mortal sins is one of the effects of the sacrament. After reaffirming the general teaching that those in mortal sin cannot benefit from the grace of the Eucharist, Aquinas notes two exceptions:
Nevertheless this sacrament can effect the forgiveness of sin in two ways. First of all, by being received, not actually, but in desire; as when a man is first justified from sin. Secondly, when received by one in mortal sin of which he is not conscious, and for which he has no attachment; since possibly he was not sufficiently contrite at first, but by approaching this sacrament devoutly and reverently he obtains the grace of charity, which will perfect his contrition and bring forgiveness of sin. [19]
St. Thomas does indeed say that one who is “not sufficiently contrite” can receive the grace of charity in the Eucharist but notice that Thomas defines “not sufficiently contrite” with one who is “in mortal sin of which he is not conscious.” This is clearly not what Tillard means by “insufficiently contrite.” Tillard is speaking of Catholics who know they are in grave sin, are “insufficiently contrite” and “culpable” but “well-intentioned,” and who choose to receive Holy Communion anyway. Tillard does violence to Aquinas by wrenching his comment out of context and using it to justify something St. Thomas would never have countenanced.
NOTES:
[1] Jean-Marie Tillard, “The Bread and Cup of Reconciliation,” Concilium: Sacramental Reconciliation, Vol. 61, ed. Edward Schillebeeckx (New York: Herder & Herder, 1961).[2] 1 Cor. 5, 17-27, RSVCE
[3] Tillard, 39
[4] Ibid., 40
[5] STh III, Q. 80, Art. 2, 6
[6] Tillard., 43
[7] Ibid.
[8] Ibid., 44
[9] Ibid., 45
[10] Ibid., 46-47
[11] “As bodily nourishment restores lost strength, so the Eucharist strengthens our charity, which tends to be weakened in daily life; and this living charity wipes away venial sins.” (CCC 1394)
[12] Tillard, 47. The author tries to lend credibility to this theory by noting it was discussed at Trent, but grudgingly admits it was not the majority opinion. He also cites Aquinas on this point (STh III, Q. 79, Art. 3), but this is a non sequitur. Aquinas affirms that the Eucharist in itself contains the power to remit all sin, but it does not therefore follow that this grace will be efficaciously applied to all or even most who approach the sacrament. Aquinas is speaking of what the Eucharist is capable of effecting in se, not what the individual Christian experiences in concreto.
[13] Ibid., 48. Italics in original.
[14] CIC 916
[15] See New Commentary on the Code of Canon Law, 1111.
[16] Tillard., 48-49
[17] Ibid., 49
[18] Ibid., 53
[19] STh, III, Q. 79, Art. 3
