Dissent at Issue : U.S. Priest in Standoff With Rome

There is a story Father Charles Curran loves to tell.

One day, two of his students were walking down a hallway here at Catholic University, where Curran teaches moral theology, unaware their professor was close behind.

“Did you study for Curran’s exam?” one asked. “Ah, yes, but not much,” the other answered. “All you have to know for Charlie’s tests are two things--tension and complexity.”

The students had learned their lessons well.

There are few unchanging eternal truths in Curran’s world. Everything must be seen within the context of history and of current times. Moral matters have less to do with abstract thought than with how people think and feel and live. “Both/and” is a far better response to most dilemmas than “either/or.”

Condemned Practices

Looking at matters in this fashion, Curran, in his writings over the years, has argued that such acts as euthanasia, birth control, divorce, premarital sex, homosexuality and abortion need not always be condemned.

Such views have helped make Curran the most prominent and respected Roman Catholic moral theologian in the country. They have also made him the most controversial.

When trustees of Catholic University tried to fire Curran in 1967, striking students shut down the campus for five days and won him tenure. The next year, Curran acted as spokesman for 600 leading theologians who said Catholics could in good conscience ignore Pope Paul VI’s ruling against birth control. Since then, he has been barred from speaking in more than one diocese.

None of this, however, equals what is now unfolding.

Told to Retract Views

In March, Curran revealed that, after a six-year investigation, the Vatican has told him he must retract his views on a host of sexual and moral issues or else lose his authorization to teach as a Roman Catholic theologian. This would be the first time the church has stripped an American theologian of his credentials.

Curran has refused to recant. Instead, in an audacious series of letters, and an unusual personal confrontation in Rome, he has asked the church’s high officers to explain themselves to him.

The standoff has provided a provocative dialogue, and an unusual look at the workings inside one arm of the Vatican. It also has commanded a worldwide audience full of fervor.

Curran’s supporters and opponents, waiting to see what the Vatican will do, are issuing statements, signing petitions and arguing passionately among themselves.

All manner of issues abound.

The right of public dissent within the church and the claim for academic freedom in an American university are pitted against the hierarchical authority of the Catholic Church. Those who urge an adjustment to the modern world face those who insist the church, divinely inspired, is not a human creation that can be changed at will.

At the heart of the standoff, however, is Curran’s insistence that he can be a man of devout faith and unrelenting questions at the same time.

‘I Am . . . a Believer’

“I want to underline the fact that I am a committed Roman Catholic believer,” he said recently in an interview. “But faith and reason cannot contradict. That is at the core of the Catholic tradition.”

Others see the matter differently.

“I feel the church’s teaching is the truth,” said Clifford A. Eckle, editor of Catholic University’s student newspaper, The Tower, which editorialized against Curran. “I will take as faith what the church is teaching. Even if I don’t understand, I will accept. Charles Curran is not accepting.”

The man at the center of this battle has lived for 20 years in modest two-room quarters on the second floor of Catholic University’s Caldwell Hall, the same building where he teaches. His chambers seem an unlikely spawning ground for the tumult all about him.

The narrow side room contains a twin-size bed where he sleeps, along with cardboard boxes stuffed with hundreds of letters, some supportive, some hateful.

The main room’s furnishings consist of a desk, two end tables and four worn stuffed chairs. Piles of books and pamphlets--Studia Moralia, Journal of the Liturgical Conference, Studia Patristica XVII--spill across the chairs and most surfaces. Electrical cords snake across the room from odd lamps and an aging television.

On the mantle above a wood-and-marble fireplace sits a small statue of Jesus on the cross, a single potted plant, and a jar containing a large stuffed rat.

Curran laughed as he explained the last object. The jar was a gift from a friend, who was making a play on the name of his nemesis at the Vatican--Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, the powerful head of the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith.

Intensely Serious

Curran, 52, a lean six-footer more likely to be seen in gray slacks and a blue shirt than a priest’s collar, is intensely serious of purpose. He refers to “the gigantic task” facing moral theologians, and he speaks with precision, choosing his words carefully.

Yet most who know Curran see him as unassuming and approachable. On campus, students call him Charlie. Professors who oppose him tend to volunteer the fact that they like him personally and respect his sincerity.

When asked what drew him to the Catholic faith, he smiled. “You can talk about a magnificent act of faith and all that, but the answer really is, because my parents were Catholic.”

While a graduate student in moral theology in Rome, Curran’s teacher was the renowned Father Bernard Haring. Curran was struck by the practical and compassionate side of Haring’s moral theology. He would not insist on imposing more than an individual was able to do at a given time. There was, to Curran, a wholeness and authenticity to Haring’s approach.

As a young priest teaching at St. Bernard’s Seminary in his hometown, Rochester, N.Y., Curran came into contact with many young married couples. He was struck by the contrast between the theory he knew and the reality he saw. The couples who were using birth control methods did not seem to him to be sinning. They were living good Christian lives.

So began Curran’s writing on sexual and moral ethics in more than a dozen books and countless essays.

‘Not Intrinsically Evil’

Contraception and sterilization “are not intrinsically evil but can be good or evil insofar as they’re governed by the principles of responsible parenthood and stewardship.”

Masturbation “should not generally be seen as entirely good or praiseworthy” but is “ordinarily not very important or significant and usually does not involve grave matter.”

Indissolubility of marriage “remains a goal and ideal for Christian marriage; but Christians, sometimes without any personal fault, are not always able to live up to that ideal. Thus the Roman Catholic Church should change its teaching on divorce.”

On homosexuality: “For an irreversible, constitutional, or genuine homosexual, homosexual acts in the context of a loving relationship that strives for permanency can in a certain sense be objectively morally acceptable.”

On abortion: “Truly individual human life begins . . . between the 14th and 21st day after conception. One can be justified in taking truly individual life only for the sake of the life of the mother or for a value commensurate with life itself.”

Reflect the Majority

Curran’s positions do not differ much from many other theologians, and on matters such as birth control, they reflect the feelings of the great majority in the American Catholic community. He is regarded by many as a moderate.

But he has become a symbol of American Catholic theology, with all its connections to this country’s feel for openness and democracy. The central thrust behind his positions greatly troubles the Vatican.

Curran insists upon the right to dissent publicly on all of what are called the “non-infallible teachings” of the church--that is, those teachings that are not dogmas, or defined truths of the Catholic faith.

“What I disagree with are not matters of faith in the strict sense of the term,” he said. “Most of these things are based primarily on human reason.”

Historically, the church’s non-infallible teachings always have been challenged, he argues. That was how teachings against usury and for slavery eventually changed. That is how the church learns and grows.

‘Got to Be a Tension’

“There’s always got to be a tension between theologians, probing and pushing on the cutting edge, and the hierarchical teaching authorities who should be concerned about stability. You’re never going to get rid of that tension. It is a central, vital part of the church and anything that’s living.”

Although he has much support, not all his colleagues agree with Curran.

Some object particularly because he teaches at Catholic University, a unique pontifical institution, chartered by the Vatican, which accredits degrees in theology, philosophy and church law.

“The ultimate question is who speaks for the church. The role of the theologian is to seek to understand church teachings,” said William E. May, also a professor of moral theology at Catholic University. “Curran holds that what he teaches is Catholic teaching, that people have a right to choose. . . . This cannot be, for the essence of the faith is that there are certain truths, divined and revealed.”

For Father Avery Dulles, another of Curran’s colleagues in the moral theology department here and generally a supporter, “there is a genuine problem. It can’t be resolved by saying these are good guys and bad guys. The real dilemma is how to sustain the magisterial authority of the church and still allow dissent necessary for the health of the church.”

Letter-Writing Efforts

Curran’s essays and speeches cost him his post at St. Bernard’s in July, 1965. He came to Catholic University the next year, and would have lost that position also but for the student strike. Since then, conservative Catholic groups have regularly showered the Vatican with letter-writing campaigns assailing the theologian.

So it was not entirely a surprise that the Vatican finally turned on Curran. The move fits a pattern of recent actions by Pope John Paul II.

The Swiss theologian Hans Kung lost his authorization to teach as a Catholic theologian in 1979 after he questioned the principle of infallibility. Edward Schillebeeckx of the Netherlands was summoned to Rome for inquiry into his writings. The Brazilian Leonardo Boff in 1985 was prohibited for one year from speaking to the press or publishing his ideas about liberation theology.

Many theologians and students of the church believe the Pope is purposefully trying to restore a consensus and control over basic doctrine, in light of perceived excesses flowing from Vatican II’s call for freedom and modernity. They suggest that the disciplining of Curran is intended as an example, to tighten control over the American Catholic Church.

Whatever its cause, the current standoff began with a letter written on July 13, 1979.

It was a single sheet of paper, addressed to Curran, and signed by Cardinal Franco Seper, then the prefect of the Vatican’s Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith.

Church’s Watchdog

The congregation, controversial and powerful, serves as watchdog, ensuring that the church’s “deposit of faith” handed down over the centuries remains undiluted by heresy or intellectual deviation. It is the protector of orthodoxy.

Curran’s articles and books had been called to the congregation’s attention, Seper wrote. A number of “principal errors and ambiguities” had been found in these writings. These were outlined in the enclosed 16-page “observations,” which “our mission in the service of moral truth requires us to send to you.”

Curran was asked to respond within one month.

The observations indicated that the “fundamental” problem with Curran’s writings was that he “minimizes or even denies the specific value of the non-infallible magisterium (church teachings).”

In extraordinary circumstances a theologian might “suspend or refuse assent” to such teachings, “but this suspension of assent does not provide grounds for a so-called right of public dissent,” Curran wrote on Aug. 29.

Far from being intimidated, he was determined to treat the matter as he would any problem in moral theology. His students, required to read all sides of an issue, know that Curran above all relishes the give and take of an intellectual fray.

The Vatican would be his classroom, the cardinals his pupils. Let us identify the issues, he seemed to say, and explore the options.

He almost had not responded at all, he wrote, for he feared the congregation’s request was seriously flawed and that he could not get a fair hearing. In any event, if “we are both to undertake this discussion in the proper spirit, I think it is absolutely necessary that you be familiar with all my writings.”

Wrote Fuller Response

He enclosed a list of his books, and offered to forward those the congregation did not have.

On Oct. 26, Curran wrote a fuller response.

He addressed not his particular positions, but rather, the fundamental issue of public dissent to non-infallible teachings. What he offered was not so much a defense of himself as a critique of the congregation’s observations.

The congregation had not read all of his books. They had mainly compiled selective citations from his work. As a result of the significant deficiencies in the observations, Curran wrote, “I am faced with the added burden of trying to formulate the issues in a way in which intelligent theological discussion can take place.”

To facilitate such a discussion, he continued, he was presenting to the congregation a set of five questions. These are necessary “because of the lack of precision” in the observations.

Possibility of Dissent

Is the theologian ever justified in going against non-infallible teachings? Does there exist the possibility and even the right of public dissent from non-infallible teachings?

Is silent suspension of assent the only legitimate response for a dissenting theologian?

Can the ordinary faithful prudently make a decision to act against the teaching of the non-infallible teachings?

In the course of history, have there been errors in the teaching of the non-infallible magisterium which have later been corrected, often because of dissenting theologians?

About 15 months later, Cardinal Seper replied. Curran was cordially invited to complete his response, addressing each of the specific points listed in the observations. There were no answers provided for Curran’s questions.

On May 21, 1981, Curran wrote back to express his “puzzlement” over the congregation’s failure to respond.

Comments Called Unjust

“I was quite serious in mentioning that your observations were insufficient in terms of dialogue and unjust in terms of not being specific. Consequently, I took upon myself the burden of focusing the dialogue so that it could be both more effective and more just.”

On June 9, Seper wrote to say that, procedurally, the congregation could not respond to Curran until his own response was complete.

A full year later, in July, 1982, Curran finally conceded, and sent a response that in a fashion addressed the matter of his particular positions.

In February, 1983, he received a short letter from the congregation consisting of one paragraph. This came not from Seper but from the new prefect--Cardinal Ratzinger.

A white-haired, soft-spoken West German born in Bavaria, Ratzinger is considered the second most powerful figure in the Vatican, the Pope’s chief lieutenant. A man of intellectual rigor and control, he has not hesitated to denounce in public those who he believes have misused Vatican II’s intentions and created all manner of heresy.

Curran had drawn a formidable opponent.

“Your responses on the whole have not proven satisfactory,” Ratzinger wrote in his brief note. “We shall shortly forward to you a fuller statement of our position.”

In May, Ratzinger sent a second set of observations. In it, the congregation responded as fully as it ever would to Curran’s five questions.

“The congregation contends that Father Curran confuses the fact of personal dissent with a right to public dissent. . . . To dissent even privately requires a personal certitude that the teaching of the church is incorrect. To further dissent publicly and to encourage dissent in others runs the risk of causing scandal to the faithful.”

The congregation wondered whether Curran wanted to revise his positions that were in clear dissent from the hierarchical magisterium.

“Very honestly, I found this question insulting,” Curran wrote back 15 months later, in August, 1984. “I have dedicated my life as a Catholic theologian to the pursuit of truth . . . I have not taken these positions without a great deal of prayer, study, consultation and discernment . . . I find the question insulting to my integrity as a Catholic, a theologian and a person.”

The other shoe finally dropped last Sept. 17.

Ratzinger wrote that Curran’s positions on a host of sexual and moral issues “violate the conditions necessary for a professor to be called a Catholic theologian. . . . The church claims the freedom to maintain her own academic institutions in which her doctrine is reflected upon, taught and interpreted in complete fidelity.”

Endorsed by the Pope

Ratzinger “invited” Curran to “reconsider and to retract” his positions. The congregation’s decision, he noted, had been reviewed and endorsed by the Pope himself.

Last December, Curran proposed a compromise.

He would never again teach sexual ethics at Catholic University--although he had not taught the course in the last 15 years anyway. The congregation could issue a document pointing out what it judged to be the errors and ambiguities in his theological teaching, while still recognizing that he is a Catholic theologian in good standing.

Ratzinger declined.

Curran made one last effort.

On March 6, at his own request, he traveled to Rome to meet directly with Ratzinger. After the months of strained but controlled correspondence, the two would sit in the same room, facing each other across a table.

The dean of Catholic University’s School of Religious Studies, William Cenkner, and a close friend, Msgr. George Higgins, accompanied Curran. They took rooms in a small albergo in the Via Venezia. From there, at 10:30 a.m. on March 8, they walked to the towering stone structure fronting on the Piazza del Sant’ Ufficio that houses the congregation.

Met by Former Teacher

Waiting for them there was Curran’s former teacher and first inspiration, Father Haring, now 74.

But for Haring, they would have wandered without direction through the building’s winding hallways full of unmarked doorways. The elderly man led them up four flights of stairs and knocked on an obscure door that looked no different from the others.

They were led into a parlor furnished with a French provincial sofa and wingbacked chairs. On the walls hung paintings of Pope Pius XII, Cardinal Seper and Cardinal Alfredo Ottaviani, the legendary archconservative opponent of Vatican II reforms, who became a symbol of reaction and once held Ratzinger’s current position.

Not inclined to consider at length Ottaviani’s visage, they turned away--only to find a large bust of the imposing cardinal staring at them from the other side of the room.

From a window in the room they could hear the Pope holding his public Saturday morning audience. “ Viva il Papa ,” the crowd was calling. “ Viva il Papa .”

Curran and his colleagues sat down and breathed deeply.

“I think we should pray,” said Father Haring.

Near 11 a.m., Ratzinger entered and ushered Curran and Haring into the inner chambers. Higgins and Cenkner remained in the parlor.

Curran found Ratzinger’s manner to be low-key and polite. The cardinal’s fixed smile changed little during the two-hour meeting. Conversation, some in Italian, some in English, jumped from one topic to another, remaining calm until the central issue came up--the right to dissent from non-infallible hierarchical teachings.

Ratzinger said a theologian cannot dissent.

Curran asked about the many other theologians who hold the same positions as he does.

Ratzinger said: “Well, father, would you want to accuse these people? The congregation will look into it.”

Curran answered: “Your Eminence, I’m here to accuse no one. I am talking to you as a renowned Catholic theologian, in addition to your other position, and you know as well as I do there are many people around the world who teach the same positions as I teach.”

Singling him out, Curran said, was unjust. “How can your office be credible if this happens?”

Ratzinger did not answer.

No Winner, No Losers

The meeting ended on a note Curran will never forget.

Haring, who speaks in a low, muffled manner due to a laryngectomy, delivered an unplanned, impassioned plea for compromise. There should be no winner and no losers, he said. There should be a solution.

The six men then recited the Pater Noster, the Ave Maria and the Glory Be. The meeting was over.

Three days later in Washington, Curran held a press conference and for the first time revealed what had been going on for the last six years.

“I find myself at home in the church and it’s as much my church as anyone else’s,” he said. “I continue to hold my basic position that dissent from authoritative non-infallible church teaching is possible. I cannot, and do not, retract this position.”

In the days that followed, many rallied to his cause.

Nine past presidents of the Catholic Theological Assn. issued a statement in support of Curran, and more than 700 other theologians in North America added their names to the document. The faculties of Catholic University’s theology department and school of religious studies, and of the United Methodist Church’s Wesley Theological Seminary, weighed in with their statements.

Response by Bishop

Despite the student newspaper’s editorial against him, a full 76% of students polled on campus supported Curran. To Curran, the most moving and appreciated of all the responses was an extraordinary public statement issued by Bishop Matthew Clark of Rochester, which is still Curran’s diocese.

Curran’s work, the bishop said, “locates him very much at the center of (the Roman Catholic) community and not at all on the fringe. . . . If Father Curran’s status as a Roman Catholic theologian is brought into question, I fear a serious setback to Catholic education and pastoral life in this country. . . . Theologians may stop exploring the challenging questions of the day. . . . Moreover, able theologians may abandon Catholic institutions altogether.”

Most church followers expect that Curran will eventually be stripped of his credentials as a Catholic moral theologian. As he waits to hear from the congregation, Curran continues to write essays and give speeches.

He talks often of using the controversy as a “teaching moment.”

He says he “would prefer that the church agreed with me, but I’m not naive. I know there always has to be some kind of tension.”

He knows he has become a symbol, and this bothers him. When people refer to his positions, “they sort of lose the nuances.”

Yet in the end, if he regrets anything, it is not the extremes in his thinking, but the moderation.

“There are times when the simplicity of the radical does appeal to me,” he said one day recently. “But no one who stresses complexity can really be a radical. So the danger, frankly, is that my acceptance of sin and complexity will at times make my theology too middle of the road.”