Synodality, Soteriology, and “Sharing the journey”

In “The Dogma is the Drama” (1939), which is one of my favorite essays, the brilliant Anglo-Catholic writer Dorothy Sayers (1893–1957) wrote:

Christ, in His Divine innocence, said to the Woman of Samaria, “Ye worship ye know not what”—being apparently under the impression that it might be desirable, on the whole, to know what one was worshipping. He thus showed Himself sadly out of touch with the twentieth-century mind, for the cry to-day is: “Away with the tedious complexities of dogma—let us have the simple spirit of worship; just worship, no matter of what!” The only drawback to this demand for a generalised and undirected worship is the practical difficulty of arousing any sort of enthusiasm for the worship of nothing in particular.

It came to my mind while reading a recent column by an American Cardinal titled “Sharing the journey” (Aug 2, 2023). Remarking on “the ancient understanding of the church as a pilgrim people,” the Cardinal writes that Pope Francis is inviting us to appreciate better “what it means to be a pilgrim people in calling us to be a synodal church.” And:

A synodal church is one in which everyone lives in communion and is responsible for building bonds of compassion within our church and society. Being a synodal church means there is a sense of belonging and solidarity, to the point that we live as brothers and sisters and as friends, sharing our blessings, our time, talent and treasure. It also means forming a partnership among all the members to participate in the mission of the church.

These sort of verbal bouquets, which spring up often in the synodal soil, raise questions. The plentiful buzzwords tend to obscure some fundamental issues. Recall that the Apostle Thomas asked Christ: “Lord, we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way?” (Jn 14:5)—being apparently under the impression that it might be desirable, on the whole, to know why and whereone is journeying, and for what ultimate purpose. After all, “belonging” and “solidarity” and “partnerships” and “participation” can easily be part of the mission statement of a national coffee chain. What is distinctly Catholic here?

In other words, in the synodal church, there is a lot of talk about journeying but little mention of the eschatological goal, the telos of it all. Perhaps that is a feature and not a bug? “Pilgrimages are about more than traveling from one place to another,” the American Cardinal says. “They are about leaving what is familiar, helping one another along the way, dedicating time for reflection, making the pilgrimage a journey inward.” Neither Oprah nor Tony Robbins could have said it with less focus or more self-referential meaninglessness.

In late August, Pope Francis referred to the Synod as “a journey that St. Paul VI began at the end of the [Vatican II] Council when he created the Secretariat of the Synod of Bishops because he had realized that in the Western Church synodality had disappeared, whereas in the Eastern Church they have this dimension.” He further remarked that “this years-long journey — 60 years — is bearing great fruit…” Fair enough, except the “Instrumentum laboris” (hereafter IL), the working document for the October 2023 Synod in Rome, begins (“The journey so far”) by stating: “The People of God have been on the move since Pope Francis convened the whole Church in Synod in October 2021” (#1).

Regardless, the appeal to the experiences of the Eastern Catholic Churches is more problematic, as noted by Bishop Manuel Nin, a Greek Byzantine Catholic prelate, who stressed that if the West understands synodality as where “everyone, lay and clerical, act together in order to arrive at some ecclesiastical, doctrinal, canonical, disciplinary decision, whatever it may be, it becomes clear that such synodality does not exist in the East.” He then contrasts the two approaches, and in doing so draws out questions about the ecclesiology, eschatology, and soteriology involved:

Decisions within these Churches are made by the assembly of bishops (almost always called a “synod” or sometimes a “council of hierarchs”) belonging to an Eastern Church,” he said. And he explained that such meetings are convened by the presiding bishops in view of important decisions relating to the “Christian journey undertaken by pastors for the good of their faithful, spiritually and materially.”

By contrast, he noted that the Synod on Synodality is a “collective ascent” of laity and clergy but he wondered: “To get where? To what end?” He also posed the question: with whom are the participants walking?

And, significantly:

The word synod, he pointed out, comes “directly from the Greek and means ‘walking with,’” but he added that what must be “clarified immediately so that our reflection on synodality does not go astray” is the meaning and real object of the Greek preposition syn (“with”). “It does not refer to the ‘journey’ but to ‘someone’ with whom it is carried out and completed,” he wrote. “It is the object or person ‘with whom’ the preposition ‘syn’ connects us and brings us together.”

Bishop Manuel stressed it refers neither to the road, nor to laity or clergy, but the preposition syn “connects us Christians and brings us to a Person who is Christ.”

Why does the Synod on Synodality, which is ostensibly focused on the nature of the Church and her relationship with the world, appear to have such little concern for soteriology and eschatology? If evangelization and mission (the latter term appears often in synodal documents) are so vital, why is the salvific nature and work of the Church rarely mentioned, especially as a foundational reality? In what way is the “synodal Church” about the call to conversion, the exposition of redemption, and the drama of salvation?

Christ, at the start of his ministry, proclaimed: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand” (Mt 4:17; cf Mk 1:15). Peter, in his sermon on the day of Pentecost, preached: “Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit” (Acts 2:38; cf Acts 3:19).  G. K. Chesterton, a century ago, wrote:

When people ask me, or indeed anybody else, “Why did you join the Church of Rome?” the first essential answer, if it is partly an elliptical answer, is, “To get rid of my sins.” For there is no other religious system that does really profess to get rid of people’s sins.

Oddly enough, the word “sin” never appears in the IL, and references to redemption, repentance, salvation, atonement, the Cross, and so forth are scarce or missing altogether. To be very clear, the issue here is not quantity but rather the theological foundation and doctrinal core of the rather elusive and chameleon synodal Church. As Fr. Robert P. Imbelli has observed, the robust “Christological and sacramental perspective” found in Vatican II documents is mostly AWOL in the recent synodal documents, which are instead replete with references to “processes,” “structures,” and “experiences.” And, as Fr. Imbelli further noted, the IL has no references to the Cross and just one passing reference to Christ crucified.

Even when the IL makes a rare attempt to touch on the relationship between the Church and salvation, it manages to make it wonky and listless:

“The pilgrim Church is missionary by her very nature” (AG 2). Mission constitutes the dynamic horizon from which we are to think about the synodal Church, to which it imparts a drive towards the “ecstasy” that consists in “coming out of ourselves and seeking the good of others, even to the sacrifice of our lives” (CV 163; cf. also FT 88). Mission allows one to receive the experience of Pentecost: having received the Holy Spirit, Peter and the Eleven stand and take the word to announce the crucified and risen Jesus to all those living in Jerusalem (cf. Acts 2:14-36). Synodal life is rooted in the same dynamism. There are many testimonies that describe the lived experience of the first stage in these terms, and even more numerous are those that link synodality and mission in an inseparable manner. (#51)

In cutting short the quote from Ad Gentes, the Council’s Decree on the Mission Activity of the Church, the IL severs the missionary nature of the Church from its Source: “The pilgrim Church is missionary by her very nature, since it is from the mission of the Son and the mission of the Holy Spirit that she draws her origin, in accordance with the decree of God the Father” (AG 2). And, like nearly all of the sixteen documents issued by the Council, Ad Gentes has a paragraph expounding the relationship between God and the Church, the Church and the Gospel, and the Gospel and the Kingdom:

Divinely sent to the nations of the world to be unto them “a universal sacrament of salvation,” the Church, driven by the inner necessity of her own catholicity, and obeying the mandate of her Founder (cf. Mark 16:16), strives ever to proclaim the Gospel to all men. The Apostles themselves, on whom the Church was founded, following in the footsteps of Christ, “preached the word of truth and begot churches.” It is the duty of their successors to make this task endure “so that the word of God may run and be glorified” (2 Thess. 3:1) and the kingdom of God be proclaimed and established throughout the world. (#1)

Gaudium et spes, sometimes (and unfairly) maligned for being “ambiguous” or worse, opens by stating:

United in Christ, [followers of Christ] are led by the Holy Spirit in their journey to the Kingdom of their Father and they have welcomed the news of salvation which is meant for every man. That is why this community realizes that it is truly linked with mankind and its history by the deepest of bonds. (#1)

And, later, it articulates beautifully what the current synodal documents seem uncomfortable in stating clearly and without sociological-ese:

Coming forth from the eternal Father’s love, founded in time by Christ the Redeemer and made one in the Holy Spirit, the Church has a saving and an eschatological purpose which can be fully attained only in the future world. But she is already present in this world, and is composed of men, that is, of members of the earthly city who have a call to form the family of God’s children during the present history of the human race, and to keep increasing it until the Lord returns.…

While helping the world and receiving many benefits from it, the Church has a single intention: that God’s kingdom may come, and that the salvation of the whole human race may come to pass. For every benefit which the People of God during its earthly pilgrimage can offer to the human family stems from the fact that the Church is “the universal sacrament of salvation”, simultaneously manifesting and exercising the mystery of God’s love. (#40, 45)

It is difficult, frankly, to see the current synodal documents as anything other than third-rate, flawed texts that water down or ignore completely central aspects of ecclesiology, soteriology, and eschatology, as found in Sacred Scripture and Tradition in general or in the Vatican II documents specifically. If the Synod is to lead to a deeper understanding of the Church, her role in salvation, and her desire to expand the Kingdom of God, it will have to free itself from the bureaucratic brambles and laborious drivel that dominate its documents.

Speaking of such, the IL contains several exhortations to “build an increasingly synodal Church” and “building a more synodal Church.” And, this statement: “The radical call is, therefore, to build together, synodally, an attractive and concrete Church…” (#26). Which brings to mind another great quote, this from the late Pope Benedict XVI, who in his essay on the Church and the scandal of sexual abuse, flatly stated: “… a Church that we build can offer no hope.” (What is Christianity? [Ignatius Press, 2023]). What we need now is a return to the doctrinal clarity of the Vatican II texts.

(Note: This essay was posted originally on the “What We Need Now” Substack.)