Monday, January 14, 2008

Gasparo Contarini

(Update added below, 5/30/09)

While setting the stage for his account of the Reformation, MacCulloch gives prominence to the role St. Augustine's works played in shaping the intellectual and spiritual world that Luther and his contemporaries inhabited. He highlights the contrast between Augustinianism and the humanism represented by Erasmus, with the former much more pessimistic about the human condition. One of the figures MacCulloch profiles at this point is Gasparo Contarini, who would be made a cardinal by Pope Paul III:

He was a Venetian nobleman and diplomat whose reading in the Gospel of Matthew and the writings of Augustine brought him to a spiritual crisis, plunging him into despair about his worthlessness in God's sight... In 1511 he experienced a sense of mystical peace that released him from anxiety; suddenly he felt his worries foolish and unnecessary in the face of a gracious free gift of forgiveness from God. (pp. 111f)
Contarini is a curious personage, for although he remained a Roman Catholic, his beliefs and experience had a definite similarity to Luther's. In 1541 he represented Rome at the Colloquy of Regensburg, which had as its purpose the reunion of the Western Church. The colloquy was ultimately unsuccessful, with its compromises deemed unacceptable by both sides, but Contarini's efforts to articulate a common doctrine of justification are worthy of note.

Contarini advocated a mediating position called 'double justice', or the combination of inherent and imputed righteousness. The following is his explanation:
Seeing we have affirmed that we attain a twofold righteousness by faith: a righteousness inherent in us, as charity, and that grace whereby we are made partakers of the divine nature; and the justice of Christ given and imputed unto us, as being graft into Christ, and having put on Christ: it remaineth that we inquire, upon which of these we must stay and rely, and by which we must think ourselves justified before God, that is, to be accepted as holy and just, having that justice which it beseemeth the sons of God to have. I truly think, that a man, very piously and christianly, may say, that we ought to stay, to stay I say, as upon a firm and stable thing able undoubtedly to sustain us, upon the justice of Christ given and imputed to us, and not upon the holiness and grace that is inherent in us. For this our righteousness is but imperfect, and such as cannot defend us, seeing in many things we offend all, &c.; but the justice of Christ which is given unto us, is true and perfect justice, which altogether pleaseth the eyes of God, and in which there is nothing that offendeth God. Upon this therefore, as most certain and stable, we must stay ourselves, and believe that we are justified by it, as the cause of our acceptation with God: this is that precious treasure of Christians, which whosoever findeth, selleth all that he hath to buy it.
The passage is from the cardinal's Tractatus de Justificatione and is quoted from the translation in Richard Field's Of the Church (App. to Bk. III, ch. 11). I have been unable to find the original work for comparison, but substantially the same words are quoted by Turretin (Loc. XVI. q. 2, 18). Leopold von Ranke's History of the Popes also includes a paraphrase (Vol. I, Bk. II, sec. 5), with this interesting comment:
Contarini "Tractatus de Justificatione." But the reader must not consult the Venice edition of 1589, which was that I first saw, where this passage will be sought in vain. In 1571 the Sorbonne had approved the treatise as it stood; in the Paris edition of that year it is given unmutilated. In 1589, on the contrary, the inquisitor-general of Venice, Fra Marco Medici, refused to permit its appearance; and, not satisfied by the omission of condemned passages, he so altered them as to bring them into harmony with the Catholic tenets. We are amazed on finding the collection in Quirini. These instances of unjustifiable violence must be remembered, if we wish to explain so bitter a hatred as that cherished by Paul Sarpi.
The old Catholic Encyclopedia gives the following assessment of Contarini's view of justification:
In many of these writings Contarini touched upon the questions raised by Luther and other Reformers; in stating the Catholic view, however, he was not always fortunate. Thus, in describing the process of justification, he attributes the result largely to faith — not to faith with incipient charity in the Catholic sense, but to faith in the sense of confidence. However, he departs again from the Protestant view by including in the preparatory stage a real breaking away from sin and turning to good, a repentance and detestation of sin. Thus also, in describing the essence or the causa formalis of justification, he requires not only the supernatural quality inherent in the soul, by which man is constituted just, but, in addition to that, the outward imputation of the merits of Christ, believed to be necessary owing to the deficiency of our nature. It would be unjust, nevertheless, to class Contarini among the partisans of the Reformation. The above-mentioned views were taken only in part from the teaching of the Protestants; as yet the Church had given no definite decision on these matters. Moreover, Contarini wished always to remain a Catholic; at the Conference of Ratisbon he protested repeatedly, that he would sanction nothing contrary to the Catholic teaching, and he left the final decision of all matters of faith to the pope.
Here is the original Latin of the passage from Contarini, as printed in Field:
Quoniam diximus ad duplicem justitiam nos pervenire per fidem, justitiam, inquam, inhaerentem nobis, et charitatem ac gratiam qua efficimur consortes divinae naturae, et justitiam Christi nobis donatam et imputatam, quoniam inserti sumus Christo et induimus Christum, restat inquirere utranam debeamus niti et existimare nos justificari coram Deo, i.e. sanctos et justos haberi, ex, inquam, justitia quae deceat filios Dei, et oculis Dei satisfaciat, an hac justitia et charitate nobis inhaerente, an potius justitia Christi nobi donata et imputata? Ego prorsus existimo pie ac Christiane dici quod debeamus niti, niti inquam tanquam re stabili, quae certo nos sustentat, justitia Christi nobis donata, non autem sanctitate et gratia nobis inharente. Haec etenim justitia nostra est inchoata et imperfecta, quae tueri nos non potest quin in multis offendamus, quin assidue peccemus, ac propterea indigeamus oratione qua quotidie petamus, 'Dimitte nobis debita nostra.' Idcirco in conspectu Dei non possumus ob hanc justitiam nostram haberi justi et boni, quemadmodum deceret filios Dei esse bonos et sanctos, sed justitia Christi nobis donata est vera et perfecta justitia, quae omnino placet oculis Dei, in qua nihil est quod Deum offendat, quod Deo non summopere placeat. Hac ergo sola certa et stabili nobis nitendum est, et ob eam solam credere nos justificari coram Deo, i.e. justos haberi et dici justos. Hic est pretiosus ille Christianorum thesaurus, quem qui invenit vendit omnia quae habet ut emat illum.
Contarenus, de Justificatione. [p. 592. Par. 1571.]

Posted by Iohannes.

Update: For more on Cardinal Contarini, including a rough English translation of his work on justification, see this page.

10 comments:

Anonymous said...

Maybe at the end of our posts we should put our name so we know who wrote the piece.

Cato the Younger said...

BB Warfield described (we've mentioned frequently) the Reformation as struggle in the West between Augustine's ecclesiology and his soteriology. I picture these two antagonistic principles dormant, inactive for many years, then reacting suddenly like some chemistry experiment. Or a psychotic with multiple personalities, unaware until they violently confront (Norman!) Or as the figure of inner struggle in the soul. The intellect v the appetite, the spirit v the flesh.

If Warfield's characterization of the Reformation is true, Contarini would be the case where the tension either was repressed or resolved.

Iohannes said...

Kepha, that's a good point. I added my name at the bottom.

PG, a post on that quotation from Warfield would be great. I started to put together something on that topic last night, but it was taking too much time for me to finish. Maybe we could focus on three areas: Augustine's doctrines of the church, salvation, and the sacraments.

Anonymous said...

The justification of the sinner is truly the heart of the Reformation, at least Luther's Reformation. When one looks at Luther and Contarini, and others like them, we are seeing, in a sense, Catholicism at its best.

MacCulloch tells us that the massive system of intercessions, good works, merits and the co-operative mentality of the people (i.e., helping each other get to Heaven and out of Purgatory), was actually not as bad as the Reformation would paint it. Most of the corruption, he leads on, was political, e.g., families dominating monasteries or bishoprics, but the people were very much aware of their spiritual needs and sure they could avail themselves of their spiritual necessities, even if they were tired of the crap, to put it bluntly. Yet, Luther and Contarini seem to reveal a fundamental corruption that MacCulloch doesn't pay particular attention to (at least thus far).

The problem was one of corrupt theology. Even though the people may have been willing to make due with what they had, and some even achieved lives of great prayer and faith in God, by no means does that mean that everything was in good shape, theologically speaking.

It is interesting that, according to MacCulloch, the gift of salvation was the Rule of Faith for Luther. He notes that Luther continued to believe in Purgatory well after the Reformation was underway. Luther eventually rejected because, as with other long-held Catholic teachings, he realized it's inconsistency with salvation by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone.

Here is, I think, an important aspect of the Reformation: What are the theological ramifications of embracing the Reformation emphasis on salvation by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone? What happens to Purgatory, the Treasury of Merit and Indulgneces, the ongoing salvific work of Mary and the Saints by their incessions? And, in light of the contemporary ecumenical perspective toward Rome, have the Protestant ecumenical proponents abandoned, by implication, what the Reformation rediscovered?

Iohannes said...

Do you think MacCulloch's evaluation of late medieval piety is colored by his own religious perspective?

He says in the Introduction: "My own viewpoint is neither confessional nor dogmatically Christian... I retain a warm sympathy for Anglicanism at its best... I do not now personally subscribe to any form of religious dogma (although I do remember with some affection what it was like to do so)." p. xxv

To what extent can someone who looks at Christianity from a distance, someone who sees it as an elaborate cultural-historical phenomenon, be expected to appreciate what it is that Luther and others found frustrating about a form of religion that worked fine for most people?

Also, didn't many ancient pagans find their religious tradition quite satisfying? I don't at all mean to equate Medieval Christianity and paganism, but "satisfaction" being subjective, is it the right means of assessing religious viewpoints?

Cato the Younger said...

Even if we meet M. on his term of evaluating subjective value of religions (a la James & Pragmatism) the fact Paganism and Medieval Spirituality were somewhat satisfying doesn't obstruct the truth that Christianity and the Reformation were improvements over the former.

Ancient people perhaps found a connection to the divine through the mysteries of Bacchus or Isis or Mithras, however, these rites were restricted to few. The gods might have been propitious to Rome, but the individual Roman lived in daily fear of Fate. Every one who accepts Christ as savior enters into his sonship and a personal relation with God. Every Christian knows that God's providence is wise and favorable to him.

Likewise, every Protestant knows that Christ has entirely paid the penalty against him for every sin and he has fulfilled every requirement of the law. He has found his rest from work in Christ and he knows he will preserve him to the finish.

Anonymous said...

You know, guys, I've actually come across instances of people converting from their sinful lifestyle to, for example, Buddhism. I'm thinking here if Tina Turner. She is not a women who is drug-free and spends much of her time praying. She comes across as a women who has a great Buddhist spiritual life. Her whole has been changed for the better! Who needs right theology, then they have right practice?!

Cato the Younger said...

I thank God Tina Turner was delivered from the wretchedness of an atheistic materialist lifestyle to Buddhism but imagine how much better her life would be in practice if her theology were even better!

Iohannes said...

Certainly the religious truths and confidence recovered at the Reformation were an improvement over what preceded. The point may have been ill-expressed; what I meant is that if someone has not personally experienced the terror of the law as a revelation of God's holiness, and has not apprehended the sweetness of the gospel of Jesus Christ, how well can we expect him to appreciate the difference between Reformation piety and late Medieval piety (or the more corrupt forms of it)? From the standpoint of the outside observer, it is obvious that something important happened in the lives of Luther and others. But if the observer has not himself experienced this, how valuable are his judgments about the relative satisfaction yielded by different religious beliefs and practices?

I might disagree a little about ancient paganism. My impression has been that the ancients, many of them at least, were fairly pleased with their religious options. The Romans prided themselves on being an exceptionally pious people. When they had religious anxieties, there were rites to deal with these. So strong was the appeal of the traditional practices and beliefs, that the early Christians faced the problem of how far they could tolerate and Christianize elements of the ancestral religions. Thus the problem of syncretism, and the laxity allowed by someone like Gregory the Great in his advice to missionaries.

Iohannes said...

By "the point" I meant my point in the earlier comment.