Laudato Si'
Pope Francis on the mission of the Church in the post-modern age
Before diving in to the project I promised in my New Year’s post, I want to give one final reflection to conclude last year’s series on technology and responsibility. That series was based on the observations of German philosopher-theologian Romano Guardini on the transition to post-modernity, as formulated in his 1950 book Das Ende der Neuzeit. One of my original reasons for reading this book is the surprisingly central role it plays in the teaching of Pope Francis. Cited already in his programmatic exhortation Evangelii Gaudium,1 Guardini’s analysis grounds an entire chapter of the Pope’s inaugural encyclical Laudato Si’. This document contains the Church’s most direct and extensive teaching on modern technological society, reiterating and amplifying many of the themes already announced by Pope Pius XII back in 1953. Analyzing the principal objectives and context of this letter can also help us make sense of Francis’ pontificate as a whole, which continues to leave both liberals and conservatives mystified.
To grasp the context of Laudato Si’, we need to first take a quick look at the intervening history between Pius XII and the election of Francis. When Pius XII delivered his critique of the “technical spirit,” the world had just emerged from a brutal war, and was viscerally aware of the failure of modernity to deliver on its promises. The rise of post-modernity placed the Church in an exhilarating new situation: from being the last desperate outpost against the secular consensus, she was now seen by many as the prophetic vanguard of a new future. Pius’ successor John XXIII convoked the Second Vatican Council in order to better equip the Church for this role. The Council itself was a spectacular triumph, resulting in a profound and comprehensive doctrinal synthesis approved practically unanimously by all 3,000 Catholic bishops, and an ambitious plan for institutional streamlining and for reform of the liturgy. But most of these bishops — especially in the U.S., which already was exercising a dominant role in global culture — had been chosen as competent administrators of a complex institution, not as prophets of a new historical epoch. They were no match for competing interpretations of post-modernity, which already counted many representatives within the Church’s educational centers.2
But as Augusto del Noce has noted, the overall effect of these victorious ideologies, which sought emancipation from modern alienation through overcoming traditional social structures (e.g., the family) and moral taboos, was merely to intensify that alienation, by removing the last obstacles to the logic of technological domination.3 As hippies matured into boomers, with their radical ideals ossified into cynical marketing strategies, the West entered the end of history. For a decade or so, modernity seemed to return to its normal course, and many prominent Catholic intellectuals embraced the American model of industrial production and social organization (the archetype of technological modernity) as the natural and permanent state of things.
It is only in the last 10-15 years (the 2008 financial crisis can be taken as a symbolic starting point) that crisis of modernity has reappeared in the public consciousness, provoking a renewed search for alternative civilizational models. In this context, the central project of the Council has taken on a renewed urgency, which Pope Francis feels intensely. His main goal as Pope seems to be to shake Catholics out of the comfort zone many had constructed for themselves over the preceding decades, alerting them to their responsibility as protagonists of the new historical epoch. His greatest fear is that Catholics will resign themselves to persisting as a marginal identity group, indifferent to the existential starvation and resulting socio-economic pathologies afflicting the rest of society. As he explains in Evangelii Gaudium (n. 84):
Fifty years after the Second Vatican Council, we are distressed by the troubles of our age and far from naive optimism; yet the fact that we are more realistic must not mean that we are any less trusting in the Spirit or less generous. In this sense, we can once again listen to the words of Blessed John XXIII on the memorable day of 11 October 1962: “At times we have to listen, much to our regret, to the voices of people who, though burning with zeal, lack a sense of discretion and measure. In the present conditions of human society they can see nothing but ruin and calamity … We feel that we must disagree with those prophets of doom who are always forecasting disaster, as though the end of the world were at hand. In the present course of human events, by which human society seems to be entering a new configuration, the secret counsels of Divine Providence are rather to be recognized, which achieve their end through the passage of time and the works of men, often beyond their expectation, and wisely arrange everything, even adverse events, for the good of the Church.”4
In Laudato Si’, Pope Francis articulates his vision of the Catholic response to this moment in history. The first chapter reviews the catastrophic consequences of the existing systems of social organization and industrial production: resource depletion, desolation of natural environments, social disintegration, urban decay and extreme economic inequality. The point of this list is not to become another “prophet of doom,” but to encourage Catholics (and all people of good will) to embrace these problems as their own, with truly universal — ‘catholic’ — outlook, and a sense of responsibility. The second chapter contrasts this empirical situation with the Christian vision of the material world and man’s place within it. The third chapter diagnoses the root causes of the contemporary crises, closely following Guardini’s analysis from Das Ende der Neuzeit. The fourth and fifth chapter lay out some principles for constructing a concrete political program that would ameliorate the immediate dangers. Finally, the sixth chapter underlines the necessity of personal conversion as the only viable foundation for lasting long-term change. In this post, I will limit myself to a brief commentary on key passages from the introduction and from chapters 2, 3, 5 and 6, highlighting their connection to the themes of previous essays.
The encyclical begins with a quote from a poem by Saint Francis of Assisi: “Laudato si’, mi’ signore!” Saint Francis provides a vivid image of the kind of response to the crises of the age that the Pope has in mind. It is not a matter of proposing an alternative ideology, or of designing effective publicity campaigns, but fundamentally a matter of personal communion with God that overflows into one’s relationships with others and with all creation (n. 11):
Francis helps us to see that an integral ecology calls for openness to categories which transcend the language of mathematics and biology, and take us to the heart of what it is to be human. Just as happens when we fall in love with someone, whenever he would gaze at the sun, the moon or the smallest of animals, he burst into song, drawing all other creatures into his praise. He communed with all creation, even preaching to the flowers, inviting them “to praise the Lord, just as if they were endowed with reason”.[19] … Such a conviction cannot be written off as naive romanticism, for it affects the choices which determine our behaviour. If we approach nature and the environment without this openness to awe and wonder, if we no longer speak the language of fraternity and beauty in our relationship with the world, our attitude will be that of masters, consumers, ruthless exploiters, unable to set limits on their immediate needs. By contrast, if we feel intimately united with all that exists, then sobriety and care will well up spontaneously. The poverty and austerity of Saint Francis were no mere veneer of asceticism, but something much more radical: a refusal to turn reality into an object simply to be used and controlled.
In Chapter 2, the Pope describes how this reconciliation with God enables this Christian to embrace the inherent limitations of the material creation, which modernity is constantly trying to escape from in vain (n. 80):
Yet God, who wishes to work with us and who counts on our cooperation, can also bring good out of the evil we have done. “The Holy Spirit can be said to possess an infinite creativity, proper to the divine mind, which knows how to loosen the knots of human affairs, including the most complex and inscrutable”.[48] Creating a world in need of development, God in some way sought to limit himself in such a way that many of the things we think of as evils, dangers or sources of suffering, are in reality part of the pains of childbirth which he uses to draw us into the act of cooperation with the Creator.[49] God is intimately present to each being, without impinging on the autonomy of his creature, and this gives rise to the rightful autonomy of earthly affairs.[50] His divine presence, which ensures the subsistence and growth of each being, “continues the work of creation”.[51] The Spirit of God has filled the universe with possibilities and therefore, from the very heart of things, something new can always emerge: “Nature is nothing other than a certain kind of art, namely God’s art, impressed upon things, whereby those things are moved to a determinate end. It is as if a shipbuilder were able to give timbers the wherewithal to move themselves to take the form of a ship”.[52]
In Chapter 3, Francis contrasts this perspective with the basic attitude fomented by the modern system of technological production, as analyzed by Guardini more than 60 years previously (n. 106):
The basic problem goes even deeper: it is the way that humanity has taken up technology and its development according to an undifferentiated and one-dimensional paradigm. This paradigm exalts the concept of a subject who, using logical and rational procedures, progressively approaches and gains control over an external object. This subject makes every effort to establish the scientific and experimental method, which in itself is already a technique of possession, mastery and transformation. It is as if the subject were to find itself in the presence of something formless, completely open to manipulation.5
But this “paradigm” (effectively equivalent to the “technical spirit” condemned by Pope Pius XII) exercises an even tighter hold on us now than did in Guardini’s day, thanks to our total dependence on the operation of the system it animates (n. 108):
The idea of promoting a different cultural paradigm and employing technology as a mere instrument is nowadays inconceivable. The technological paradigm has become so dominant that it would be difficult to do without its resources and even more difficult to utilize them without being dominated by their internal logic. It has become countercultural to choose a lifestyle whose goals are even partly independent of technology, of its costs and its power to globalize and make us all the same. Technology tends to absorb everything into its ironclad logic, and those who are surrounded with technology “know full well that it moves forward in the final analysis neither for profit nor for the well-being of the human race”, that “in the most radical sense of the term power is its motive – a lordship over all”.[87] As a result, “man seizes hold of the naked elements of both nature and human nature”.[88] Our capacity to make decisions, a more genuine freedom and the space for each one’s alternative creativity are diminished.
This critique is not a condemnation of all human intervention in shaping the world. An essential part of the Biblical vision outlined in Chapter 2 is man’s responsibility as vicarious lord of creation, caring for all things that exist in the name of God. In Chapter 5, the Pope therefore sketches some examples of what a different style of social production might look like, which escapes from the reductive modern vision without renouncing human creativity and innovation (n. 192):
For example, a path of productive development, which is more creative and better directed, could correct the present disparity between excessive technological investment in consumption and insufficient investment in resolving urgent problems facing the human family. It could generate intelligent and profitable ways of reusing, revamping and recycling, and it could also improve the energy efficiency of cities. Productive diversification offers the fullest possibilities to human ingenuity to create and innovate, while at the same time protecting the environment and creating more sources of employment. Such creativity would be a worthy expression of our most noble human qualities, for we would be striving intelligently, boldly and responsibly to promote a sustainable and equitable development within the context of a broader concept of quality of life. On the other hand, to find ever new ways of despoiling nature, purely for the sake of new consumer items and quick profit, would be, in human terms, less worthy and creative, and more superficial.
For healthier forms of social organization to arise, however, a profound interior conversion is necessary. We need to learn to see the world with new eyes, to rediscover essential realities that we had dismissed as figments of romantic sentimentality. In Chapter 6, Pope Francis presents the example of Jesus as a model for this deeper way of seeing (n. 226):
We are speaking of an attitude of the heart, one which approaches life with serene attentiveness, which is capable of being fully present to someone without thinking of what comes next, which accepts each moment as a gift from God to be lived to the full. Jesus taught us this attitude when he invited us to contemplate the lilies of the field and the birds of the air, or when seeing the rich young man and knowing his restlessness, “he looked at him with love” (Mk 10:21). He was completely present to everyone and to everything, and in this way he showed us the way to overcome that unhealthy anxiety which makes us superficial, aggressive and compulsive consumers.
According to Christian theology, this way of being in the world is ultimately the only stance consistent with the fundamental truth of the cosmos. The dogma of the Trinity, which can often seem obscure, remote, and unnecessarily paradoxical, provides the foundation for this fully human way of living (n. 240):
The divine Persons are subsistent relations, and the world, created according to the divine model, is a web of relationships. Creatures tend towards God, and in turn it is proper to every living being to tend towards other things, so that throughout the universe we can find any number of constant and secretly interwoven relationships.[171] This leads us not only to marvel at the manifold connections existing among creatures, but also to discover a key to our own fulfilment. The human person grows more, matures more and is sanctified more to the extent that he or she enters into relationships, going out from themselves to live in communion with God, with others and with all creatures. In this way, they make their own that trinitarian dynamism which God imprinted in them when they were created. Everything is interconnected, and this invites us to develop a spirituality of that global solidarity which flows from the mystery of the Trinity.
Finally, Francis concludes the encyclical on a note of supernatural optimism. Sincere faith in God — especially faith in Jesus as the Incarnate Son of God — necessarily entails radical confidence in God’s unshakeable concern and care for this earth, in all the ups and downs of history. This confidence in the overall narrative of history, which remains obscure and only partially visible to us here below, provides a constant basis for serene and energetic action on the world stage (n. 245):
God, who calls us to generous commitment and to give him our all, offers us the light and the strength needed to continue on our way. In the heart of this world, the Lord of life, who loves us so much, is always present. He does not abandon us, he does not leave us alone, for he has united himself definitively to our earth, and his love constantly impels us to find new ways forward. Praise be to him!
n. 224, “The only measure for properly evaluating an age is to ask to what extent it fosters the development and attainment of a full and authentically meaningful human existence, in accordance with the peculiar character and the capacities of that age.” In the book, Guardini goes on to apply this criterion to the European High Middle Ages, in order to demonstrate its objective superiority over all other civilizations before or since. It would be interesting to know whether Francis or his collaborators had this context in mind when citing the passage.
See E. Michael Jones, John Cardinal Krol and the Cultural Revolution (South Bend, Indiana: Fidelity Press, 1995) for a detailed account of this period, through the lens of one of these administrator-bishops.
See Augusto del Noce, The Crisis of Modernity, Edited by Carlo Lancellotti (McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2014) http://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt130hcmr.
The translation of the embedded quote is mine, since the English translation given on the Vatican website muddles the crisp language of the original text of John XXIII:
Saepe quidem accidit, quemadmodum in cotidiano obeundo apostolico ministerio comperimus, ut non sine aurium Nostrarum offensione quorundam voces ad Nos perferantur, qui, licet religionis studio incensi, non satis tamen aequa aestimatione prudentique iudicio res perpendunt. Hi enim, in praesentibus humanae societatis condicionibus, nonnisi ruinas calamitatesque cernere valent; dictitant nostra tempora, si cum elapsis saeculis comparentur, prorsus in peius abiisse; atque adeo ita se habent, quasi ex historia, quae vitae magistra est, nihil habeant quod discant, ac veluti si, superiorum Conciliorum tempore, quoad christianam doctrinam, quoad mores, quoad iustam Ecclesiae libertatem, omnia prospere ac recte processerint.
At Nobis plane dissentiendum esse videtur ab his rerum adversarum vaticinatoribus, qui deteriora semper praenuntiant, quasi rerum exitium instet.In praesenti humanorum eventuum cursu, quo hominum societas novum rerum ordinem ingredi videtur, potius arcana Divinae Providentiae consilia agnoscenda sunt, quae per tempora succedentia, hominum opera, ac plerumque praeter eorum exspectationem, suum exitum consequuntur, atque omnia, adversos etiam humanos casus, in Ecclesiae bonum sapienter disponunt.
cf. Guardini, Das Ende der Neuzeit (Basel: Hess Verlag, 1950), p. 69-70: “Er sieht sie [Natur] voraussetzungslos, sachlich, als Raum und Stoff für ein Werk, in das alles hineingeworfen wird, gleichgültig, was damit geschieht.”