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Hans Küng: Dissent

Hans Küng, an influential and controversial Swiss Roman Catholic priest and theologian, has died this week at age 93. Hans Küng, was the youngest theologian to participate during the 1960s at Vatican II , a most remarkable event of the 20th century, that sought to bring Roman Catholicism into a more robust dialogue with the modern world. Küng was an avid proponent of such reforms, though many Roman Catholic faithful believed that he had gone too far, as evidenced by Pope John Paul’s censure of  Küng, when the latter directly challenged the doctrine of papal infallibility (among other things).

Hans Küng, popular yet maverick liberal theologian of the Roman Catholic Church, as a young priest and spokesperson at Vatican II.

My introduction to Hans Küng was through one of his many writings, namely his widely popular 1974 book On Being a Christian, that my mother had bought. On Being a Christian was one of the first theological books I read cover-to-cover during my senior year in high school, about a year after Küng had been officially censured by the Pope. My mom’s copy of the 700+ page book is filled with my vigorous underlining with a red pen. It was a fascinating dive into many of the things of which I had questions about, in what it really meant to be a Christian, soon after I had read through the New Testament, for the first time. From Küng I learned about the Pharisees, Sadducees, Essenes and the Dead Sea Scrolls, the differences between the Roman Catholic and Protestant churches, and different theologies of the cross.  It was startling to realize that a great deal of what Christians often believe comes from tradition first-and-foremost, and only secondarily from a close examination of the Scriptures, and Küng was direct enough to say that. On Being a Christian ranks as one of most sweeping and accessible theological classics of the 20th century. Most of the more heavy topics went way over my high school teenage head, but it impressed me that Küng avoided dense theological jargon, making it a very engaging read. I was most impressed by Küng’s conviction that ‘Jesus of Nazareth as the Christ, finally authoritative, decisive, archetypal, is what makes Christianity what it really is’ (p. 174)

Nevertheless, I soon realized that Küng was a maverick and progressive liberal when I got to his chapters regarding the possibility of salvation outside of the church. Previously, the 16th-century Council of Trent was clear enough: “no salvation outside of the church,” and that meant that Protestants were all roasting away in you-know-where.

Now, Vatican II had settled on a “concentric circle” approach to how far salvation might extend towards non-Roman Catholics. Of course, Roman Catholics were at the center of the circle, whereas Protestants, like myself, were in the next circle outside of that, being “separated brethren.” Other circles were added at different levels to accommodate those of other religions and even atheists. The basic idea was that the closer you were to the center of those circles, the higher the likelihood you might be saved, and the farther away you were from the center, the less likely you would be saved.

Küng’s approach, however, took me by surprise, adding a twist to the official position of Vatican II. He suggested that various Buddhists, Muslims, Hindus, etc. could indeed be saved, as long as they were faithful to their own various religious traditions. This seemed to me to push back against the very uncompromising teaching of the Bible, as taught in Acts 4:12, “And there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved.” Perhaps God might find ways to reach others who have yet to hear the Gospel, through means that we in our limited human perspective can not fully understand, such as through dreams, etc. But Küng’s approach, that sought to honor the religious efforts and good works of non-believers, appeared to undermine the very principle of Scriptural bedrock teaching, that we are not saved by our religious efforts, but rather by the gracious and saving work of Christ alone.

On top of that, I read Küng’s most confusing section about the resurrection. While Küng affirmed a belief in “resurrection,” he simultaneously rejected the empty tomb. How Küng was able to reconcile that belief with the witness of Scripture was beyond me (see Richard Bauckam’s review of Küng’s seminal work).

Though well-intentioned, it has always appeared to me that progressive attempts to “modernize” Christianity, to make the faith more palatable to contemporary sensibilities, do so at a cost of diluting some of the great foundation truth claims of historically orthodox Christianity. This is true, not only of the Protestant mainline tradition, in which I was raised, but also in progressive elements of Roman Catholicism, the theological home where Küng dwelt. So, it really was not a surprise that then Cardinal Ratzinger (later Pope Benedict), who had once been a close ally and friend of Küng’s at Vatican II, later sought to aid in Pope John Paul II’s censure of Küng, believing that Küng had simply gone too far.

I have a copy of Küng’s memoirs, My Struggle for Freedom, that a friend has given me, that I had been hoping to read one day, before Küng died. Alas, this did not happen. Küng did much to help Vatican II, as a reform movement within Roman Catholicism, to succeed as well as it has, and his positive contributions, of which there are many, deserve such hearty recognition. For example, Küng was extraordinarily gifted, being one of the first Roman Catholic theologians to address a group of prominent astrophysicists on the relationship between faith and science. Küng was also prominent in starting a dialogue between Roman Catholic and Protestant theologians over the nature of justification, breaking the ice in a conversation that had been stalled for over 400 years. Küng was also outspoken in his views regarding priestly celibacy, as he understood the mandated practice as being against Scripture and contrary to the historic tradition of the church. He also criticized Rome’s ethical policy that prohibited artificial birth control.

However, Küng’s tendency in certain other areas to push historic, orthodox boundaries to the breaking point serves as a painful lesson to anyone who believes that you can simply rewrite fundamental doctrines of the faith, and pretend that you are somehow still “preserving” the faith once handed down to the saints, over the centuries.

It simply does not work.

A “faith” that merely pretends is merely wishful thinking that lacks any substance behind it. Both the faithful in the churches and critics outside of Christianity will see through a supposed “faith” that pretends certain things to be true, when in fact, they are not. Dissent, when it effectively serves to undermine orthodoxy, produces more confusion and mindless wishful thinking than anything else. However, dissent, when properly engaged to steer the church back onto its proper course, is something to be commended. May the positive elements of Küng’s dissent be remembered more than his negative elements of dissent.

Other prominent influencers in the Christian movement have also died within the past month, but who were significantly more orthodox and less controversial in their thinking than Küng. John Polkinghorne (1930-2021) was a world-class, Cambridge-trained physicist, who shocked his colleagues when he left the world of science to embark on a path towards Christian ministry in the Anglican church. Polkinghorne’s work to integrate science with Christian faith has helped many Christians reconcile what many others believe is irreconcilable.

Argentinian evangelist Luis Pulau (1934-2021) was in many ways the “Billy Graham” of Latin America, who preached the Gospel to millions, and who became a unifying figure for evangelical Protestants all across Latin America, in the latter half of the 20th century. I will never forget hearing Luis Pulau speak at Urbana 1984, when he addressed the vexing topic of Christianity and other religions, one of the topics that so energized Hans Küng. Pulau reminded his listeners, including me, that there is a good answer for those who worry about the salvation of those who have yet to hear the Gospel:  Genesis 18:25 asks, “Will not the Judge of all the earth do right?” Luis Pulau’s answer was a resounding “YES,” and that has been good enough me.

The following illuminating 2009 interview with Hans Küng, before he became debilitated by Parkinson’s disease, while Benedict was still Pope, gives a flavor of Küng the man, Roman Catholic critic, and thinker.


The Two Popes: Why Would A Pope Resign?

When Pope Benedict made his announcement on February 11, 2013, it shook the Roman Catholic world, like a lightning bolt. Since 1415, he was the first pope in hundreds of years to effectively retire from the office of the Holy See. To most Roman Catholics, popes simply do not do that type of thing.

Anthony McCarten’s The Two Popes chronicles the story of how Joseph Ratzinger, a Bavarian born son of a policeman, would eventually become Pope Benedict, only to have his top role in the Roman Catholic Church transferred to Jorge Mario Bergoglio, a once-aspiring chemist turned Argentinian Jesuit priest, known for his work among the Latin American poor, who would himself become Pope Francis.

Ratzinger grew up in the shadow of Hitler’s Germany as a teenager, despite his father’s futile efforts to shield his son from the Nazi’s fascist control of the Germanic peoples. Young Ratzinger declared early on, that he wanted to become a Roman Catholic priest, but that was not enough to keep him from being drafted into the war, serving in an anti-aircraft unit for the defense of Munich. After the war, Ratzinger was able to continue in his theological education, and enter a career of teaching Catholic theology.

Most people are not aware of this, but the young Ratzinger worked alongside notable thinkers like Hans Kung at the Second Vatican Council, in the 1960s, to bring about progressive reform in the church. Yet Ratzinger ultimately backed off from his liberal leaning theology. He eventually was appointed as the head of the former “Inquisition” of the Roman Catholic Church, under Pope John Paul II. Ratzinger came to regret his earlier trajectory towards theological liberalism, becoming increasingly concerned that such progressive ideas would partner with relativism and secularism trends, to ultimately undermine the Roman Catholic faith.

Ratzinger was charged by John Paul II to revamp the “Inquisition” into the “Prefect of the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith,” formulating catechetical instruction for the worldwide Roman Catholic faithful, following a conservative interpretation of Vatican II. The most significant work that Ratzinger supervised was the 1992 updated Catechism of the Catholic Church, the authoritative guide to Roman Catholic teachings. Ratzinger was noted for his efforts to reign in liberation theology, by removing the leading advocates for that theology from their positions, in order to promote John Paul II’s neo-traditional vision of Roman Catholic life and theology. He even managed to get his old friend and colleague, Hans Kung, removed from teaching theology to priests, after the latter wrote a book obliquely denying papal infallibility. Ratzinger had become the leading pick as a successor to John Paul II, following John Paul’s death in 2005.

The somewhat younger Jorge Mario Bergoglio grew up in Buenos Aires, originally pursuing a career to become a chemist, and even took a brief romantic interest that made him question occasional thoughts of becoming a priest. But a life threatening illness as a young man, that permanently injured a lung, steered him in a different direction, whereby he entered the Society for Jesus (the Jesuits) in 1958. Like Ratzinger, Bergoglio too was at the Second Vatican Council in the 1960s. He was known to be conservative in most matters of Roman Catholic doctrine, though more moderate in areas dealing with social justice reforms, seeking to carve a middle way between the right and left, of a politically divided Argentina.

His efforts to walk a political tight rope in Argentina, forced him out of Argentina for a time. Some accused Bergoglio of not doing enough to help the people he was called to serve, while others thought he interfered in matters that were none of his business. But he was eventually brought back to Argentina, eventually to be elevated as an Archbishop. As Archbishop, Bergoglio followed his Jesuit instincts and rejected use of a private car and chauffeur, opting to ride the public bus instead, to make his appointments. Bergoglio was the second most favored choice to succeed Pope John Paul II, behind Ratzinger. Thus, when Pope Benedict announced his retirement less than a decade later, Bergoglio remained a serious candidate, who eventually won out over the others.

So, why did Benedict resign? It seems very strange that Benedict, a stalwart defender of Roman Catholic orthodoxy, would so readily hand over the leadership of the church to someone whose views were more radical, and more apt to undo Pope John Paul II’s program to revitalize the Roman Catholic Church, that was aimed at reaffirming traditional theological commitments in an increasingly secular world.

The stated reason was that Benedict felt that a younger, more vibrant man was needed to do the job. But Anthony McCarten thinks that Benedict’s failure to aggressively address the clerical sexual abuse crisis in the global church as ultimately to blame. McCarten faults Benedict for focusing too much on taking down errant liberation theologians, and in defending and upholding the integrity of the Roman Catholic priesthood, at the expense of the sexual abuse victims, who suffered under wayward priests. Admittedly, the Vatican knew that the Church had her enemies, and for decades, since as early as the 1860s, had sought a policy of moving priests accused of sexual abuse to other parishes, and urging the victims themselves to take oaths of silence, in order to protect the Church from her enemies, who would otherwise use such accusations to try to destroy the church.

It is clear that McCarten views such polices of deception and concealment to be counter-productive at best, if not purely criminal, at worst. This is where a book like The Two Popes often tells us more about the writer than the subject(s) being examined. Anthony McCarten is a New Zealand author and playwright, who grew up in a devout Roman Catholic household, only to say laterthat his faith has lapsed, noting that he now regards the biblical story of the Virgin Birth and the bodily resurrection of Christ as ‘a tall tale.'” Many former Roman Catholics like McCarten grew up in the church, only to be secularized upon entering adulthood, after being disillusioned by what they saw as a religious institution that could no longer be trusted.

Pope Francis does not escape criticism either in The Two Popes, as McCarten tells the sordid tale of Bergolio’s disputed involvement in partially propping up a right-wing, military government, that overthrew the inept rule of Isabel Peron, in politically unstable Argentina, in the 1970s. Thousands of Argentinian dissidents were “disappeared” during these years, but the Argentinian Roman Catholic hierarchy was more worried about a threatened communist takeover from the left. Some of Bergolio’s fellow Jesuit priests were abducted as well, and critics charged Bergolio with not doing enough to protect his fellow priests, even to the point of claiming that Bergolio aided corrupt elements in the government in their persecutions of the poor, and those who tried to help them. Two of these priests were tortured before being released, and blamed Bergoglio for having abandoning them and their mission work. Bergolio’s defense was, “I did what I could.

Pope Benedict had his sins, but Pope Francis had his sins as well. McCarten’s Bergolio comes out looking better than McCarten’s Ratzinger, but both men who became popes have failed, in McCarten’s mind, to inspire deep confidence in following the Roman Catholic faith.

Pope Francis, as the first Jesuit pope and first Latin American pope, who still refuses to live in the finely furnished Vatican apartments, and who still likes riding the public bus, has proven to be a popular yet enigmatic figure. Progressive Roman Catholics applaud the type of changes Francis has made to reform the Vatican, and voice great frustration when he does not do more, whereas traditional Roman Catholics are deeply concerned that Francis is turning into yet another “bad pope,” and compromising fundamental doctrinal stances of the church.

As concerns about Francis have grown, the former Pope Benedict emerged briefly in recent years, as a move that many observers believe was meant to be a check against Francis’ more progressive policy leanings. Time will tell what type of legacy Francis will ultimately leave.

A good example of the type of reforms that Francis is encouraging can be found in the January 2021 letter, Spiritus Domini, which seeks to institutionalize the practice of having women serving as Acolytes and Lay Readers in worship services. Such practice is already happening throughout various parts of global Roman Catholicism, but this is the first papal pronouncement formally acknowledging that this is good and right Roman Catholic doctrine. Throughout the 2,000 year history of the church, women have never served as priests (or presbyters), but women did serve as deacons, a practice that was abandoned in the West by about the sixth century. Supporters of Francis see this as restoring the ancient practice of the early church. Critics, however, are concerned that this might pave the way to allow women to serve as priests, despite Francis’ explicit reservations to the contrary.

Anthony McCarten’s cynicism about Roman Catholicism remains held back for most of The Two Popes, but it finally emerges the most starkly in his epilogue. “Were we able to look far into the future of the Catholic Church and learn that its fate was to become nothing more than a sacred book club, where fans gathered once a week to discuss their favorite characters and chapters, debate passionately the themes, and draw real life-lessons from shared readings, it could do a lot worse” (p. 205). So much for the inspirational character of the Roman church, rooted in real, historical truth. But McCarten’s cynicism is not just about Roman Catholicism. It is about the Christian faith itself.

There is a tension that McCarten exposes for all Christians to see. On one side is a reactionary, fundamentalist form of Christianity that believes that the Christian faith is under siege, and that the only option we have is to circle the wagons and fight against the incoming onslaught of secularism, etc.  On the other side, is a watered-down form of Christianity that completely empties itself out of any and all concrete, historical reference points, in an attempt to show that Christianity is not fundamentally different than what a secular vision of reality is. Such liberal approach to Christian faith is merely a following of the secular trends, with a thin veneer of religious vocabulary and symbols pasted over the top. McCarten finds this latter approach to be more acceptable than the former. But interestingly, such liberalism is not compelling enough to encourage re-embracing the Christian faith himself.

I am not surprised.

Both forms of Christianity, the reactionary, conservative one, and the watered-down liberal one have effectively nothing to offer to the secular skeptic today, as McCarten would most probably describe himself. From my vantage point, the best path forward to revitalize Roman Catholicism and re-inspire the disillusioned is to be found in a robust dialogue with the other great traditions of the faith, evangelical Protestantism and Eastern Orthodoxy, in order to recover lost ground, and to rediscover what C.S. Lewis aptly called “Mere Christianity.”

The Two Popes was made into a Netflix film. I have not been very enthusiastic of some of the films Netflix has promoted, but this film is an exception to that. The Two Popes is very entertaining and the acting is really, really good (Anthony Hopkins, who plays Benedict is fantastic). Both men come across as more attractively human figures, as opposed to stereotypical, stuffy church officials. But the film lacks the nuance that the book has, which is probably to be expected when you try to take a book like this and squeeze the story down to a 2-hour film.  The film takes a deeper look at the story of Francis, while comparatively spending less screen time looking at Benedict’s life story. For those reasons, I would recommend the book if you want a fairer treatment of history, but recommend the film for the entertainment value. In the end, viewing the film and particularly, in reading the book, it all helped me as an evangelical Protestant to understand the challenges of trying to maintain a robust, traditional Roman Catholic faith in an increasingly secular, postmodern world, that instinctively is prone to distrust religious institutions.


Former Evangelical Christianity Today Editor Becomes Roman Catholic

Mark Galli receives Communion during Mass at St. Michael Catholic Church early Sept. 8, 2020, in Wheaton, Illinois. RNS photo by Tom Killoran

Mark Galli, formerly editor for the evangelical magazine Christianity Today, has decided to become Roman Catholic. Normally, conversions between Roman Catholicism and Protestant evangelicalism go the other way around: typically, I see a lot of “cradle” Roman Catholics grow up to become Protestant evangelicals. So, why would a Protestant evangelical “cross the Tiber” and make the journey towards Rome?

What makes the Mark Galli story so significant is because Galli was for several years the editor of what many still consider to be the flagship periodical of Protestant evangelicalism, Christianity Today. He also raised a lot of eyebrows in late 2019, when Galli, a moderate conservative who is firmly “pro-life,” with respect to abortion, wrote an editorial calling for the impeachment of President Donald Trump.

It is a good question to consider: Why would someone who once publicly championed the principles of the Protestant Reformation take the Eucharist, with Rome’s understanding of transubstantiation, along with other doctrines of Rome that repel the typical Protestant?

Was part of it the continual drift we see in the Protestant evangelical movement away from centuries-long, established church tradition? In Galli’s case, according to an article in the Roys Report, he was a “cradle” Catholic, who became heavily involved in Presbyterianism as a teenager. He eventually moved towards Anglicanism, and even looked into Eastern Orthodoxy for awhile.

Was it the never-ending fracturing in Protestant evangelicalism, that zapped him of his spiritual energy? Was it the tendency of evangelicals to unite more around politics than solid, Scriptural doctrine? An interview with Galli tells the story.


Why Do Some Evangelical Protestants Convert to Roman Catholicism OR Eastern Orthodoxy?

Roman Catholic Pope Francis and Russian Orthodox Patriarch Kirill made history in February, 2016, by meeting together, in an effort towards Christian reconciliation. (Photo credit: Edgar Jimenez / Flickr | Larry Koester / Flickr)

The vast majority of evangelical Protestants remain in such churches, once they become Christians. Also, quite a number of Roman Catholics and Eastern Orthodox convert and join evangelical Protestant churches, particularly if their faith was rather nominal to begin with.

But interestingly, some evangelical Protestants move in the opposite direction, and either join the Roman Catholic Church, or they join an Eastern Orthodox church.  So, why do some evangelicals bail out on Protestantism, to become members of these other churches?  When it comes to Roman Catholicism, is it not true that Protestants fought long and hard to try to reform Catholicism, only to find themselves outside of the church of Rome? When it comes to Eastern Orthodoxy…. well,… what is Eastern Orthodoxy, anyway?

Well, there are multiple reasons why some evangelical Protestants either “cross the Tiber” (a metaphorical way of saying that they become Roman Catholic…. the Tiber River cuts through the heart of the city of Rome), or “cross the Bosphorus” (a metaphorical way of saying that they become Eastern Orthodox…. the Bosphorus is a body of water that goes through Istanbul, Turkey, the traditional heart of the Eastern Orthodox world). One reason is that in both Roman Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy, the celebration of the Lord’s Supper is central to their corporate worship. Whereas, in much of Protestantism, the celebration of the Lord’s Supper often takes a back seat, when compared to the teaching of the Scriptures.

But perhaps one of the main reasons for leaving evangelical Protestantism is a disillusionment with how Protestants often handle the doctrine of sola scriptura, from the Latin, or “Scripture alone.”

The idea of sola scriptura assumes that Scripture, by itself, can be interpreted, without an authoritative magisterium, or teaching authority, like the Pope (Roman Catholic) or college of bishops (Eastern Orthodoxy). But when Protestants rely on the private interpretation of Scripture, confusion has often ensued. Protestant Christians, in the United States, have been often known to “vote with their feet,” once they run into perceived problems with a teaching pastor, who says something that does not line up with how they read the Bible.

You do not have that problem in either Roman Catholicism or Eastern Orthodoxy.

The “vote with your feet” syndrome, that commonly divides Protestant churches, can become quite weary for some Christians. When Protestants are unable to work through their differences, it can get rather tiresome.

So, on the other hand, it is pretty much a “package deal,” if and when you decide to join either the Roman Catholic or Eastern Orthodox communions. Both Roman Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy have their own authoritative magisteriums. Such conflicting understandings of teaching authority has created another whole set of problems, which would take a comprehensive look at church history, to fully digest.

Those “package deals” presented by both older communions have presented obstacles for those Protestants who have considered making the journey across the Tiber or the Bosphorus, but who end up not crossing one of those rivers (I would include myself in this latter category). For example, both Roman Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy hold to what is called the doctrine of the perpetual virginity of Mary. That is a big stumbling block that keeps many evangelical Protestants from seriously considering crossing “the” river.

If you want to learn more about why some Protestants look to Rome or Eastern Orthodoxy, these two short videos, respectively, help to explain why:


Bishop Robert Barron at the Graves of Tolkien and Lewis

Happy Reformation Day!…. which is a not-so-subtle reminder that I am not a Roman Catholic.

But I have a great appreciation for so many of my Roman Catholic friends, and particularly an admiration for a number of great Roman Catholic thinkers. Bishop Robert Barron is one name that comes to mind.

Father Barron has dialogued with the Canadian “Intellectual Dark Web” phenomenal figure and psychologist Jordan Peterson, as well as with Protestant evangelical apologist, William Lane Craig. Even as a “son of the Reformation,” I personally get an education from one of the most articulate and winsome Roman Catholic minds, whenever I heard Father Barron speak. Recently, Father Barron participated in England, as part of the beautification ceremony of John Henry Newman, the 19th century Anglican priest turned Roman Catholic apologist, perhaps the greatest Roman Catholic mind of the 19th century.

While in England, Father Barron stopped to visit the graves of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. Below are two short, 3-minute videos that give you a flavor of Father Richard Barron. Finally, I included a clip of Father Barron’s Word on Fire episode, discussing the canonization of John Henry Newman, from Rome, with St. Peter’s in the background. I recall many fond memories from my trip to Rome, almost exactly a year ago. For those who appreciate “The Great Tradition,” that folks like Lewis articulated so well, enjoy:

Even though more people convert from Roman Catholicism to Evangelical Protestantism, a surprising number of Evangelical Protestants move in the opposite direction, and “cross the Tiber,” so to speak, and join the communion in Rome. This can be quite puzzling for some.

If Roman Catholicism is like a “black box” to you, and you really do not understand much about it, you might want to investigate some of the videos put out by Ascension Presents. Father Michael Schmitz is a very gifted, dynamic, young priest and communicator, who knows how to explain the intricacies of Roman Catholic doctrine, to younger audiences. As opposed to Father Richard Barron, who can be academic at times, Father Michael Schmitz is very good at making Roman Catholic teaching accessible, to just about anyone. You may not be convinced about purgatory, but perhaps you will understand a little bit better what purgatory is all about.


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