Benedict XVI as an exemplar of the changing role of the church and state

I am not a political scientist or a modern theologian. However, as I always tell my students, I pretend to be both. The problem with that, of course, is that having a little knowledge is sometimes far more dangerous than having none. However, this blog is specifically set up for me to workshop ideas rather than publish papers. I do hope that some who know more than me about modern theology and politics might have some helpful feedback.

I ran across a fascinating article on how Pope Benedict XVI is both alike and different from John Paul II. Right now there is all kinds of discussion about why Benedict is retiring (including some conspiracy theories that are so absurd as to be howlers). I have no interest in that aspect of his papacy – except for perhaps the new precedent that might be being set (though time will only tell there), and how he will function in retirement (will he, like other retired world leaders continue to be active in nonofficial roles, etc.). However, this excellent study by Brian Flanagan does not get involved in conspiracy theories about the pope’s retirement, instead it focuses on his legacy and asks what he did and how.[1]

Flanagan proposes that while staying in the tradition of John Paul II theologically, Benedict did it in an entirely new way. Rather than being the charismatic personality that traveled the world, he focused on the office of the bishop of Rome and spoke outwardly through the office, often hiding his persona from the public. Consider Flanagan’s comments:

In contrast to John Paul’s sense of personal, charismatic authority, Benedict’s model of papacy views its authority as rooted in the office itself, in the duties and responsibilities of the bishop of Rome, and in the pope as the guarantor of the tradition of the church. In comparison to John Paul, Benedict at times seemed to hide his personality behind his words, and to hide his particular preferences and theological opinions behind the office itself. I believe that this was intentional—not just a matter of personal idiosyncracy, but a conscious change of direction toward a less personality-driven papacy. At one level, it was rooted in a theology of episcopal collegiality that he assisted in crafting as a peritus (‘expert’) at the Second Vatican Council. But at a deeper level, it is consistent with his relative suspicion of the mechanisms of a secular world. As an Augustinian theologian, Benedict, despite his twitter feed, exercised a great deal of caution when stepping out into the whirlwind of the modern media cycle. He avoided, by choice as well as by temperament, much of the cult of personality that has been such a dominant aspect of the modern papacy and which arguably reached its apex in the example of John Paul. His resignation is therefore a coda, not a surprise ending, to a deliberately diminished, intentionally less monarchical, model of papacy.[2]

One can see that Flanagan interestingly suggests that the lack of the charismatic individual and instead the office actually has the effect of shifting the figure of the pope to be a less domineering force. Theologically, this makes some sense (and there is reason to think that much of what Benedict does is motivated by what makes sense theologically to him) – it is the seat of Peter which has authority – the human on it is temporary.

While I believe that Flanagan is probably correct, I also think that this is an example of how religion and politics have changed in the past several hundred years all the way to the role of the bishop of Rome. To show how it is changed, it is first necessary to understand the “two swords” doctrine which was established by Pope Gelasius I (492-496).  The concept was that God had two swords by which he would exercise his will – the sacred and the state. However, the true sovereign was God. Further, there was an obligation that all of God’s believers were in his kingdom and it was the moral duty of this authority to have that sovereignty expressed (despite whatever political borders might be the case).[3] While the two swords theology might sound like a division between the church and state, the argument was that God was the true sovereign and all government or church was merely his agent. Further, the church (encapsulated in the Bishop of Rome) was the interpreter for God, and as such, the church became the de facto authority of the world. While this might be shocking to some, for this paper, the question of who was truly in charge has less importance than the idea of sovereignty spreading beyond political borders (and therefore justifying moving beyond those borders as a role the government and the church in tandem out to be doing).

This model was challenged by the famous Peace of Westphalia in 1648 at the conclusion of the 30 years war. Many are aware of the decision at the end of the thirty years war which allowed states to choose their own religion (or rather the ruler of states to choose their religion) – “cuius regio, eius religio.” The practical argument presented was that political borders now were sovereign in and of themselves. So long as a nation did not bother others, they could do mostly as they pleased. The idea of sovereignty had formally changed. Not surprisingly, Pope Innocent X condemned the peace of Westphalia as a direct challenge to the two swords theology.[4]

The Peace of Westphalia, however, has mostly failed. While it is true that there is a basic idea of national independence from others, the idea that a nation can simply do whatever it likes without the rest of world stopping them is simply not the case. The volume of the Sacred and the Sovereign was conference papers discussing the Kosovo military operation. Aside from what one thinks of running interference for a Presidential sex scandal, the stated reasons for the Kosovo military operation were that what the government in Kosovo was doing to its own people was unacceptable (hardly the Westphalian idea about allowing someone to do whatever they liked so long as it was in their own borders). I should present as an addendum that I do not know the intricacies of the Kosovo conflict and I would have no doubt if there were in fact many things going on with the crises that had little to do with international politics.

The observation most notable in the volume was that while there is no idea of a universal religion any longer (the two swords theology only works if the government believes the views of the church), but instead a universal value system that allows some things but not others. It begins to ask the question, “what would it say about us if we did not act on behalf of these others.”[5] Therefore, religion does have an important place – but no longer is it because it is assumed that all nations should be following the sovereignty of God. Instead, the true sovereignty surpasses any figure or nation and instead is in a system of ethical values.

The way the church can still have a place globally is through these “global” values (understanding that not everyone has these values, but the idea is presented here just to show the international nature of activities). John Paul II, for instance, accomplished this task through his charismatic personality. Aside from a few moments of directly challenging the Soviet Union, John Paul II, for the most part traveled the world and encouraged politicians and laypeople to act in certain ways in accordance with universal values (of course those values would be channeled to be in accordance with those of the Roman Catholic church). Benedict XVI did it in a different way – through the office of the Papacy, he presented the values that he felt should be universally held (with his controversial comments about homosexuality, Islam, etc.).

What is most present, however, is the abandonment of desire to truly have the two swords theology expressed as they might have during the period before the Reformation. One did not see, for example, either Pope leaning upon world leaders to act in certain ways because it was their duty as God’s arm to bring universal religiosity upon the earth. Instead, when they exercised their political ambitions, it was independent – either through being so well liked, or through their own office.

Here, I do not attempt to get involved with the intricacies of Roman Catholic politics – not only is it something that is not my interest, I do not have the knowledge to truly speak about it. What is strking here is how churches and government are expected to interact. No longer do we even have the Bishop of Rome sitting down and meeting with world leaders to be their top advisor on practical political matters in most cases. Instead, it is a much more nuanced argument about values that show a more “modern” tendency.

A final note is simply a caveat that I do not believe that either of these popes particularly was innovative in this matter. I am sure that previous papacies were in accord with this. I only use these two current popes as examples to show a general trend.

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[1] Brian Flanagan, “John Paul II, Benedict XVI, and the upcoming conclave: Considering the role of the pope in a post-Christian world” Marginalia Review of Books, http://themarginaliareview.com/archives/1833, accessed Feb. 27, 2013.

[2] Ibid.

[3] John D. Carlson and Erik C. Owens, “Reconsidering Westphalia’s Legacy for Religion and International Politics” in John D. Carlson and Erik C. Owes (eds.) The Sacred and the Sovereign: Religion and International Politics (Washington D.C.: Georgetown University Press, 2003), 12-14.

[4] Ibid., 14-19.

[5] Susanne Hoeber Rudolph, “Religious Concomitants of Transnationalism: From a Universal Church to a Universal Religiosity?” Sacred and the Sovereign, 139-153.

Review of Christian Smith’s Soul Searching and Souls in Transition.

Christian Smith, Soul Searching: the Religion and Spiritual Lives of American Teenagers (Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2005).

Christian Smith with Patricia Snell, Souls in Transition: The Religious and Spiritual Lives of Emerging Adults (Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2009).

The following is my review of two volumes presented by Christian Smith on the sociology of religion for “young people” in a longitudinal study (the first volume discussing teenagers (ages 13-18) and the second emerging adults (ages 18-23). One hopes that when time provides, a third volume will appear that covers religiosity in ages 24-29 (the stated goal of the volumes). I should present as a caution that I am not a sociologist and that this study on modern religion is formally outside my field (being a historian of early Christianity and Judaism). However, this topic is one that matters much to me and I find myself continually exploring it in sociological contexts. I feel there is much merit in sociological analysis (and I find myself frequently reading key elements of it for my own research as can be found by figures such as Rodney Stark), but also some limitations. This review is more a case study of the merits and limitations of sociology than it is a true review of the books.

The greatest merit in these volumes, as stated by Christian Smith, is that it does an excellent job dispelling popular myths about the generation of “young people.”  There are many myths that he takes on such as that the younger generation are generally not religious, that they are spiritual seekers who look for truth from every walk of life, that education was linked with irreligiosity, that they are reacting to their parents and have abandoned all that they were teaching, and that the meme of being “spiritual but not religious” is among them. Smith does a good job of dispelling all of these arguments. He measures whether these memes are true (as he says he finds them frequently in literature) and shows why they are simply false. The “spiritual but not religious” meme, for example, is shown that participants did not even understand what the term meant much less supported them.

The hypothesis he presented, then, was that many frequent discussions about the movement of younger adults in religious settings are inaccurate. He then proves this through careful observation of the trends. Second, he proves this by not only showing that these are false, but also supplementing them with the positive statements that can be made about this generation concerning its view of religion. For this alone, these books are a very helpful resource for anyone interested in the topic (and I highly recommend this for any readers who work in ecclesiastical or social worlds where the views of people aged 13-23 is of primary significance).

With these valuable aspects, I now move to the critiques and limitations that a sociological study has. First, sociology is in the social sciences and as such, needs to present a hypothesis that will be proved true or false. In this case, the hypothesis was that teenagers and young adults do not hold many of the key memes that are present in rhetoric about this group. This was accomplished well. However, a problem occurs when a sociological study attempts to do anything more than that. Because the study was discussing a particular age group, for instance, any continuity between the age group studied and other age groups would not be sampled (after all, the point was to prove that such views were not present in one age group – the view of others was not important). However, when trying to present the alternate case and come to conclusions about “what these subjects actually are” the agility of the data is insufficient for the task. These volumes illustrate this point well – they have a primary purpose that is done well, but their secondary purpose of trying to present an alternate is awkward at best due to the constraints of sociological inquiry.

First, sociology finds a predictive theory that is true of a social movement, often across boundaries – this often can lead to a “lowest common denominator” type of approach to descriptive analysis. In this study, the major predictive theory was what Smith calls “Moralistic Therapeutic Deism (MTD).” Smith argues that MTD is the primary belief structure of students ages 13-18. It has the following 5 characteristics:

1. God exists who created and orders the world and watches over human life on earth.

2. God wants people to be good, nice, and fair to each other, as taught in the Bible and by most world religions.

3. The central goal of life is to be happy and to feel good about oneself.

4. God does not need to be particularly involved in one’s life except when God is needed to resolve a problem.

5. Good people go to heaven when they die.[1] 

While this is definitely predictive – that if a new student group were interviewed, then they would probably hold most of these views. However, while it is a prediction, it is insufficient description. Of course, do hold this view, but that is not the only view they hold. Smith has shown us what can be proven and measured as far as social science goes. Diversity builds from there. This type of lowest common denominator thinking is not a bad thing – it is a necessary component of sociology and (as mentioned above) does do a good job answering the proposed hypothesis. It simply has limits and one who reads this as the only view held (seeing it as sufficient for description) is not correctly reading it.

The problem that arises next is not one for all of sociology – only a study that attempts to analyze the whole of a group – there is no control group. In any study where there are no boundaries on the number of people, it is difficult to effectively find a control. This study examined all of the people in America ages 13-23. While it was done through sampling, the point is that the whole of the people were meant to be included. Therefore, the only way to find a control would be to go beyond the bounds of America (where cultural factors might skew results) or a different age range (where generational factors might skew results). My own preference would have been if Smith had simply used a different generation as a control, but the challenge would be present. Therefore, the value of the study was still there in proving the hypothesis, but the lack of a control made some of the descriptive conclusions seem more telling than they might actually be.

 One of the major problems of this study for descriptive analysis was the age range presented. The data was set for this group alone (ages 13-23). However, there is no data present as to why these figures were so different from other age ranges. This would not be a major concern if there were very good reasons for this age constraint. However, the study has as its hypothesis that the reasons for considering this age group as distinct are not accurate.

Not only is the age constraint not given a proper discussion as to why it is being considered in isolation, there is even data presented that challenges the category. First, the study has as one of its most important points is that the religious view of the teenagers and emerging adults were gained from their parents – making this the view not only of the younger generation but also of the older.[2] Secondly, Smith trumpets the study of N. Jay Demerath which argues that liberal Protestantism as a whole is very prevalent among adults (which would, in many ways, be quite similar to the MTD described above).[3] Therefore, this age constraint makes it seem as if these views are unique. In reality, the views presented are held by the group they study, but the study does no job whatsoever about discussing whether this is common to other groups or not (and it should be noted does it claim to do so – this is a simple limitation of sociology – a sample population has to be selected and the study cannot discuss any other population with accuracy).

The results, however, are challenged beyond the relatively reasonable question concerning the age range. First, the first volume covering the ages of 13-18 does not take into account the unreflected faith of many teenagers. Not surprisingly, when asked about more advanced theology, teenagers did not know their own faith system. They had trouble articulating what it was that made them distinct with the exception of ethics. However, when looking at the correlation between actual life choices and religious devotion, the correlation showed that there was a significant difference.[4] Therefore, the lack of articulation might not be as much a lack of holding the views as much as simply teenagers struggling to articulate anything given their relative age and probable lack of reflection on their own beliefs (as it was presented that they did usually take their view from their parents).

Another challenge is the ridiculous goal of finding a single voice for an entire generation of people in America. The millions that would be presented are so diverse that it is not surprising that many of the results are mundane. A much more meaningful study might have focused on a smaller group that could be more easily studied and nuanced to give a full description. I understand that this is not the goal of this particular study, but as a historian, this is precisely what is required to be able to speak with confidence rather than vague generalities.

The above challenges might be subsumed by Smith’s desire to be a competent sociologist. The reason he does not look into the unreflecting nature of teenagers is that he does not want to dismiss the view of teenagers – their view needs to be taken seriously on its own. Therefore, while it might be true that they haven’t reflected on their faith, that lack of reflection is component of what they believe – it should not be dismissed. However, the second volume of the series, because it was a longitudinal study, took as its main focus a comparative tactic (did 18-23 year olds change their view from the view they had when they were 13-18). This comparative tactic made it difficult for the second volume to respect the subjects as much as the first volume did. The 18-23 year olds did not have their own descriptor of how they viewed religion, instead, the question was if MTD was still the primary way of expressing their religiosity. The answer was that it was mostly true with many caveats.[5]  The fact that all of these caveats were in place suggests that if Smith were to simply describe the religiosity of this group with no preexisting idea at all, he might well have come to a different solution. However, because it was comparison, the second volume was dominated by the first. The results then are skewed and amazingly the views expressed by teenagers (even with their challenge of articulation and lack of understanding) are going to frame the conversation with people well into their twenties (particularly if the third study uses this same comparative tactic, and there is no reason to think that it will not).

The second critique is not in method, but one of the conclusions that Smith draws. While discussing MTD, Smith briefly calls this type of faith “parasitic” meaning that it only can exist if larger full religions are present. His argument seems to be that this is the case because it exists across the religious spectrum (Protestantism, Roman Catholicism, Judaism, LDS, etc.).[6] However, he does not spend the time to prove why this is the case, it is simply his logical inference that could be challenged easily. Why is it that the five principles described above could not be held in isolation? There is no real reason other than that they have developed from a larger worldview. However, the sustaining power of the MTD (if it even truly exists as a complete worldview) could well continue without the larger religious systems (just as many religious movements derive from another religion while abandoning many of its original tenets, e.g. Christianity separated quite easily from Judaism).

 The final section of this post are not critiques of Smith, but ways that someone not familiar with this type of writing could misconstrue the data. The first one has been covered at length – that is the “lowest common denominator” type of analysis that sociology finds itself in. The second is the ease at which the second volume of the book can be understood poorly if not seen as a comparative work, and the third is the misconstrual of the phrase “feeling good” as a characteristic of MTD.

If one does not understand comparative longitudinal studies (and I will be the first to point out that I am not an expert in them), it is possible to misunderstand what Smith says in the conclusion. Smith argues that there is essential continuity between religiosity in the teen age years with religiosity in the emerging adult years.[7] However, this is not suggesting that the religious views of teenagers are identical (or necessarily even close) to the religious views of emerging adults. All it is saying is that those who are religious in their teen years are also likely to be religious in their emerging adult years and vice versa. Not only do their views shift to be more reflective, but it is possible that the religious tradition could even change in those years – it is only the case that they are more likely to be religious in some sense.

The second piece that is easy to misconstrue is the concept that one of the goals of MTD is to “be happy and feel good about oneself.” There is no reason to think that this is simply superficial or primarily different than other adherents’ view of religion. Most religious movements have as their center profound meaning for the adherents. Peter Berger discussed it in terms of identity and meaning as a society in response to the chaos of the world (that which humans cannot deal). This meaning is the way humans manage the world and find a place in it (in addition to solving the problem of theodicy).[8] How is this meaning so fundamentally different than “feeling good?” I do not think Smith was trying to express a superficial sense of this, but it would be possible for readers to get the wrong impression if they were not familiar with sociological discussion of religion.

In all, Smith’s work is quite valuable and should be read. It only needs to be understood in a sociological context with sociological constraints. He very convincingly proves his hypothesis – caution should be taken on how far this data can prove alternate hypotheses.

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[1] Smith, Soul Searching, 162-3.

[2] Ibid., 166.

[3] N. Jay Demerath, “Cultural Victory and Organizational Defeat in the Paradoxical Decline of Liberal Protestantism” Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 34.4 (1995): 458-69.

[4] Smith, Soul Searching, 218-258.

[5] Smith, Souls Transformed, 103-142, 180-256.

[6] Smith, Soul Searching, 166.

[7] Smith, Souls Transformed, 282.

[8] Peter Berger, The Sacred Canopy.