Is dogma a tragedy?
Dr. Clark Carlton argued this in a recent Ancient Faith Radio broadcast. It is a compelling thesis. Dogmas, definitions of faith by ecclesial authority, arise out of a breakdown in the transmission and lived experience of the Gospel. They are evidence of the collapse of faith under the weight of sin and heresy. For the saints the truth of Christ should be self-evident; it should not require the coercive and constricting support that human reason provides. The cost of dogmatic theology is that the single and infinitely profound Truth is reduced to a system of smaller truths. Truth ceases to be the Beloved and becomes instead a mere object within a system of thought.
Is dogma the perfection of faith?
Dr. Mark Miravalle argued this in a recent Catholic Answers radio broadcast. It is a compelling thesis. Dogmas are not merely the Church's auto-immune response to the presence of heresy. They are themselves proof of the ultimate compatibility of human reason with the divine Logos. Truth is fertile. It is both inevitable and desirable that deep reflection on the truths of revelation should lead reason to bear fruit in dogmas. A dogmatic definition should not be seen as a limitation on faith but as its perfection. Thus the dogmatic definition of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary makes perfect sense even though it was not prompted by any real heresy. It has its own inner logic corresponding to the dynamism of the Logos.
What are we to do with two such compelling, and contradictory, points of view? Be assured these are more than mere intellectual disagreements. They represent profoundly distinct worlds of thought and faith experience. One of the most eloquent expositors of this problem in the 20th century was Vladimir Lossky. The first view corresponds to the apophatic theology Lossky insisted characterized Orthodoxy while the second represents the intellecualist kataphaticism of Catholicism. For Lossky, and for many Orthodox writers before and since, the theological mysticism of the East is fundamentally opposed to systematic theology of the West.
None of this is new. I just liked the way these two divines, entirely coincidentally, summed up the problem for me this past week.
It would be absurd for me to say I can solve this problem! I would say, however, that it goes to the heart of this spiritual ecumenism the Anastasis Dialogue is all about. The apophatic and kataphatic tendencies manifest themselves in praxis as well as theology. The Jesus Prayer is supposed to enable one to pray without mental images and concepts. Roman Catholic prayer is far more concerned with meditation on images: Rosary, Stations of the Cross, Ignatian Exercises etc. The issue rears up in moral questions, the relationship of church and state, sacramental practice and so on. It's a tectonic rift.
But here's where I would suggest caution. It's far too simplistic to suggest that this rift runs down the divide between the Orthodox and Catholic Churches, or even, more generally those mythic places, "east" and "west." No. The tension between the apophatic and the kataphatic runs right through both traditions. Both traditions expect us to approach God with all our intellectual, moral, emotional and spiritual resources. And both traditions expect that approach to end not in capturing God as an object, but by our becoming lost in his mystery.
Two examples are all I can suggest by way of justifying this argument.
One. Orthodox liturgical prayer is among the most sublime example of kataphatic prayer imaginable. Far from asking us to check our concepts at the door, Byzantine (and Armenian, Syrian, Assyrian, Coptic!!) theological poetry teems with them. It's the whole point of iconography.
Two. On the other hand, the Western tradition has its share of apophatic mystics. St. Therese of Lisieux said she wanted to suffer every torment of hell just to do the will of Jesus. This statement revolts the intellect by the measure of its absolute subjectivism, in its refusal to treat Christ as anything but the Beloved. Turning the cloying affectivity of the West back on itself by using its own ideas against it, St. Therese, like so many occidental mystics, undermines the kataphatic tradition from within.
Perhaps in the end we must stop seeing the problem as a problem, but as representing two phases in a single process. Breathing requires both inhalation and exhalation. Making love requires both a kind of attack and a form of surrender.
Is dogma a tragedy? Is dogma faith perfected? It sounds trite, but maybe the only possible answer is yes and no.
