For my students at the Catholic Chaplaincy in Newcastle (UK), Vatican II is as long ago as World War II was for me at their age. In other words, it is history. And at a time of crisis, it can be tempting for theologians to look at vibrant moments of the past rather than grappling with the present. But in so doing, we become curators of a museum.
It is precisely because Ressourcement does not fall into this trap that it is so valuable. Published for the 50th anniversary of Vatican II, it addresses renewal as something ongoing and indeed urgent. It takes the form of a collection of 32 articles, framed by short author biographies and an introduction, and an epilogue and very comprehensive bibliography. It might be said to be a ressourcement (return to the sources) of Vatican II itself. The passing of 50 years is in fact seen to give useful distance: mercifully free of ‘liberal’ or ‘conservative’ ideologies, the articles take some refreshing and often surprising perspectives. So Jansenism is examined as a possible early Ressourcement movement, and the reality of Modernism and its possible influence on Nouvelle Théologie are taken seriously. Nouvelle théologie (originally an accusation) is carefully distinguished from going back to sources. Teilhard de Chardin is reconsidered as a traditionalist in spite of himself, in that many of his themes can be found in Irenaeus and other Fathers; Benedict XVI is read as a second-generation Ressourcement theologian; and difficulties of coherence in de Lubac's theology of grace and Congar's later theology of ecumenism are teased out. The genesis of Vatican II's documents is valuably documented, and there are contributions too from the Orthodox and Protestant traditions. There is even an article (not so easy, it must be admitted, for non-psychologists) on Lacan's ressourcement of Freud, in which the former's significant connections with French Catholic thinkers and mutual influence are demonstrated.
As these examples suggest, the collection is characterised by its breadth of scholarship: indeed, as well as followers of de Lubac, Congar and Chenu, there are scholars more in the Cajetanian tradition of reading Aquinas (‘Neo-Thomist’ or ‘Neo-Scholastic’ are, for historical reasons, now pejorative descriptions, and so I avoid them). The editors, Gabriel Flynn from Mater Dei Institute at Dublin City University, and Paul Murray, founding director of the growing Centre of Catholic Studies at Durham, assisted by Patricia Kelly, hold all this together very well. Without a sense of shoe-horning, the articles are organised into four sections: history and context; central figures; Ressourcement as a threefold programme of renewal; Ressourcement and ‘the Church in the Modern World’. There is some cross-referencing between the articles. The standard of proofreading is high, except for the Greek in Jake Yap's article on Bouyer – from the context ‘mythierion’ must be mysterion.
Ressourcement is, as its name implies, a very French story in many ways. This is, obviously, because the principal theologians of renewal were French (even though a balance is sought, with explorations of Balthasar, Rahner and others). The gulf between the Church and the modern world which existed more or less everywhere in the West was perhaps most acutely felt in France. The aggressive secularism of the French state was implacably opposed to and by a monarchist, absolutist Catholicism (Congar and Chenu started their reading of the Fathers in exile in Belgium, following the expulsion of the Dominicans in the wake of the Dreyfus affair). French absolutist Catholicism also had worrying echoes in the authoritarian condemnations of the ‘new theology’ by Rome between the 1930s and 50s. Benedict Viviano sees Catholic French monarchism, Roman authoritarianism and the totalitarian political movements of the period as the ‘last gasp of the Baroque absolutist model of government’ (p. 307) – indeed he goes as far as to speak of ‘Maurrasian’ Thomism (p. 315). This is not an exaggeration: Réginald Garrigou-Lagrange, the neo-Thomist scourge of the ‘new theologians’, was totally pro-Vichy, while de Lubac and others were involved in the Resistance. Again this all seems very French, but it does demonstrate that, precisely because Christianity is an incarnate religion, it will inevitably involve political engagement: so how we understand our faith, especially the grace-nature relationship, is of capital importance. Perhaps the most salutary lesson comes from the human side of the story. Even though himself an important ‘resourcer’ of St. John of the Cross, Garrigou-Lagrange was a bully, and his eminence gave him access to disciplinary measures he should have been let nowhere near. While the issues he addresses in Nouvelle Théologie are real, his actions would be very damaging, as Marie-Michel Labourdette (1908–90), a strong Cajetanian and former pupil, warned. And John McDade remarks in his epilogue that the new theologians could themselves ‘biff’ unprovoked. Indeed, Congar's wish to ‘liquidate’ Baroque theology would play out in others’ post-Vatican II excesses. Of course, the new theologians were much more biffed against than biffing. Yet what this story shows most of all is the central importance of charity, forbearance and intellectual hospitality in theological debates and crises, and the damage done by sniping and resort to sanctions.
In connection with this I have to express a slight concern about Gemma Simmonds's opening article on Jansenism. While she rightly shows the prophetic nature of Jansenist demands for a vernacular liturgy and lay access to the Bible, in her effort to redress the balance she downplays the real problems with the Jansenists’ adherence to Baius's soteriology. Furthermore, their doctrinal intransigence hardly recommended their good sides to the Roman authorities. Note too that liturgical reform pre-dated the Jansenists: the Paris Missal of 1585 both integrated aspects of Trent and anticipated the Christocentricity of Vatican II, and was never condemned.
Other articles document interesting ideas and events, but could go further: John Saward shows how a very classical thinker like Cardinal Journet recovered the Marian dimension of ecclesiology, an important dimension of Vatican II, but he does not explore what Journet might have meant by ‘Thomism is a metaphysics to which we raise ourselves by the intellect’ (p. 127) – a statement which has huge implications for the faith/reason and grace/nature debates. Keith Pecklers summarises the story of liturgical reform, a story well known by now, but fails to address the ongoing problem of its reception. Gerald O'Collins gives a highly useful account of Ressourcement at Vatican II, which he contrasts with ‘manualism’. However, given the intellectual difficulty of reading many of the Fathers, often long and unsystematic (like Congar!), is there not room for renewed manuals, as far removed from ‘manualism’ as Thomas from ‘Thomism’, for the training of less able students who would still make good pastors? And as Christopher Ruddy points out, a real problem in the face of the widespread ignorance of many young Catholics about their faith, is how to make a clear presentation of the faith out of the authentic theological pluralism of Vatican II.
So a big, broad, wide-ranging book. As such, if read as a whole it can be somewhat repetitive – almost every author writing on a Ressourcement theologian or theologians sets the historical scene first. One wonders if it could have been shorter (and cheaper), had one historical introduction been written. On the other hand, this would take away from the synoptic character of the book, which is its greatest strength. We are able – at last – to enjoy and benefit from different perspectives speaking eirenically to each other, rather than the destructive dynamic of action-reaction which was so harmful before Vatican II and in its immediate aftermath. This does not mean that all disagreements are resolved – far from it. But there is a sense that most of these scholars know how to listen as well as talk, and indeed it would be delightful to hear them in a seminar together. This is surely a model for renewal in the church, a growth deeper into unity, a paschal rhythm through confronting and being confronted by difficult questions. There are omissions – while there is a lot, rightly, on metaphysics, patrology, theology of grace, and ecumenism, there is little on Vatican II's social teaching, which would have been useful for the current economic crisis. It would be good too to ask whether Liberation Theology is ‘new’ or a radical biblical ressourcement. Other areas surely needing examination are New Movements in the Catholic church (neo-Baroque or Baroque resourced in the light of Vatican II?) and how the Christian Tradition might be able to dialogue with contemporary non-religious spiritualities. Of course, one book cannot do everything. But Ressourcement does leave us with a framework – a theology, one might say – of addressing Christianity's and humanity's burning questions with the help of Vatican II.
