A Defense of Popular Piety
Pope Francis's Dilexit Nos, on the Sacred Heart of Jesus
In his latest encyclical Dilexit Nos, Pope Francis proposes that the traditional devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, focused on God’s infinite love for us, can be an antidote to the “hatred, indifference and selfishness” (#59) we experience in a world of consumerism, secularization, and the reductive power of technology. The encyclical is primarily intended as a catechesis on God’s love and mercy embodied in the heart of Jesus, but it is also a defense of popular piety.
The importance of popular piety has been a consistent theme for Pope Francis throughout his pontificate, rooted in his pastoral experience in Argentina. For example, in his 2013 apostolic exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, he wrote:
Expressions of popular piety have much to teach us; for those who are capable of reading them, they are a locus theologicus which demands our attention, especially at a time when we are looking to the new evangelization. (#126)
Popular piety is also a central theme in the “theology of the people,” the Argentinean school of theology that has had a profound influence on Pope Francis. In this view, popular piety is an expression of the sensus fidelium, the faith of the people.
Dilexit Nos is organized into five chapters. The first chapter provides an anthropological and theological reflection on the “heart.” This chapter has much in common with the Jesuit theologian Karl Rahner’s writings on the Sacred Heart, which I highlighted here. The second and third chapters are more theological discussions of Christ’s love for each of us. The second chapter focuses on Jesus’ words and actions in the Gospels, and the third offers an in-depth meditation on Christ’s love and its Trinitarian dimensions.
In the fourth chapter, Francis provides a history of devotion to the Sacred Heart, showing its roots in the Scriptures and in precursors of the devotion in the writings of the Church Fathers and medieval and early modern theologians and mystics. He then focuses on St. Margaret Mary Alacoque, the religious sister who received a series of apparitions in which Jesus encouraged devotion to his Sacred Heart, and St. Claude de La Colombière, the Jesuit who promoted Alacoque’s visions. Francis then turns to modern devotees of the Sacred Heart, St. Charles de Foucauld and St. Therese of the Child Jesus. In the fifth chapter, perhaps the most innovative, Francis insists that devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus has a social dimension; our meditation on Christ’s love for us should lead us to acts of love for our neighbor.
Pope Francis’s defense of devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus as a form of popular piety is primarily found in the third chapter of the encyclical. One of the longest standing criticisms of devotion to the Sacred Heart is that it draws our attention to a “part” of Jesus’ body rather than to the whole person of Christ, and therefore is an inappropriate, even crude, form of adoration. Francis first addresses this issue in the first chapter, where he appeals to Rahner:
[“Heart”] is one of those primordial words that “describe realities belonging to man precisely in so far as he is one whole (as a corporeo-spiritual person).” It follows that biologists are not being more “realistic” when they discuss the heart, since they see only one aspect of it; the whole is not less real, but even more real. Nor can abstract language ever acquire the same concrete and integrative meaning. The word “heart” evokes the inmost core of our person, and thus it enables us to understand ourselves in our integrity and not merely under one isolated aspect. (#15)
The heart represents (or as Rahner would say, is a symbol of, in his rich understanding of that term) the whole person. Francis then applies this to Jesus in the third chapter. He writes:
Devotion to the heart of Christ is not the veneration of a single organ apart from the Person of Jesus. What we contemplate and adore is the whole Jesus Christ, the Son of God made man, represented by an image that accentuates his heart. That heart of flesh is seen as the privileged sign of the inmost being of the incarnate Son and his love, both divine and human. More than any other part of his body, the heart of Jesus is “the natural sign and symbol of his boundless love.” (#48; the quotation is from Pope Pius XII’s 1956 encyclical Haurietis Aquas)
Francis then turns to the more pressing question of whether showing devotion to images of the Sacred Heart detracts from our worship of Christ Himself, or is even a form of idolatry. In the eighth century, the Byzantine emperor banned the veneration of images of Christ and the saints, considering it idolatry, spurring a movement known as iconoclasm. Similarly, Protestant Christians have often criticized Catholics for venerating images, a criticism often heard in the United States and which Francis likely heard, as well, in his native Argentina. Even many Catholics have turned away from the use of statues, images, prayer cards, and other material representations of Jesus and the saints so common in popular piety, seeing them as unsophisticated or superstitious. In the years immediately after the Second Vatican Council, many Catholic churches removed statues and other images to give the sanctuary a more modern look.
In response to the iconoclasts in the eighth century, the theologian John of Damascus countered that the fact that the Son has taken on human flesh in the Incarnation made it entirely appropriate for Christians to portray Him and venerate Him through images. Because the Incarnation united the divine with the created world, it is possible for created things, including images, to be channels of divine grace. He likewise distinguished between veneration or honoring, which is appropriate for a holy object like an image, and worship or adoration, which is due to God alone.
Although not citing John of Damascus, Pope Francis takes a similar approach to defend the use of images and other physical objects in popular piety:
Whatever the image employed, it is clear that the living heart of Christ – not its representation – is the object of our worship, for it is part of his holy risen body, which is inseparable from the Son of God who assumed that body forever. (#50)
He continues:
[I]t should never be imagined that this devotion may distract or separate us from Jesus and his love. In a natural and direct way, it points us to him and to him alone, who calls us to a precious friendship marked by dialogue, affection, trust and adoration. (#51)
When we venerate an image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, then, it points us to Christ, the true object of our worship, and leads us to contemplate the love He has for us.
In most Catholic bookstores and gift shops, one can find spinning racks of prayer cards with images of the saints on the front, and endless shelves with statues of diverse saints. Some Catholics might find certain images a bit too saccharine or sentimental. The image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus is particularly difficult to portray in an appropriately dignified way: how do you portray the heart of Jesus without it becoming overly medical on the one hand, or on the other turning it into a bizarre Valentine’s Day card?
Pope Francis is aware of the problem of sentimentality, but he is more critical of those who snobbishly turn their noses up at these popular images:
Certain of these representations may indeed strike us as tasteless and not particularly conducive to affection or prayer. Yet this is of little importance, since they are only invitations to prayer, and, to cite an Eastern proverb, we should not limit our gaze to the finger that points us to the moon. Whereas the Eucharist is a real presence to be worshiped, sacred images, albeit blessed, point beyond themselves, inviting us to lift up our hearts and to unite them to the heart of the living Christ. (#57)
Just as barren churches are lacking a certain Incarnational invitation to adoration, Francis warns that more modern representations of the Sacred Heart risk downplaying Christ’s fleshiness:
[W]e must never forget that the image of the heart speaks to us of the flesh and of earthly realities. In this way, it points us to the God who wished to become one of us, a part of our history, and a companion on our earthly journey. A more abstract or stylized form of devotion would not necessarily be more faithful to the Gospel, for in this eloquent and tangible sign we see how God willed to reveal himself and to draw close to us. (#58)
I don’t think Pope Francis is entirely rejecting more abstract images of the Sacred Heart, or of Jesus and the saints more generally, but he is affirming popular piety’s attraction toward more representational forms of sacred art and its appreciation for material things as channels of grace.
Near the end of the fourth chapter of Dilexit Nos, Pope Francis considers a spiritual practice that grew up in relation to devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus: the consolation of Jesus in His sufferings. In this practice, one turns over the sufferings of one’s own life to Jesus as a reparation, a way of consoling Jesus in His suffering on the cross (#152-53).
Pope Francis notes that the more theologically inclined might resist this practice. Doesn’t the idea that we could console or comfort Christ turn the relationship between the finite creature and the infinite Creator upside down? He adds, “We may also question how we can pray to the Lord of life, risen from the dead and reigning in glory, while at the same time comforting him in the midst of his sufferings” (#155). These are valid questions.
Francis responds, however, that there is a deeper wisdom in popular piety:
It might appear to some that this aspect of devotion to the Sacred Heart lacks a firm theological basis, yet the heart has its reasons. Here the sensus fidelium perceives something mysterious, beyond our human logic, and realizes that the passion of Christ is not merely an event of the past, but one in which we can share through faith. Meditation on Christ’s self-offering on the cross involves, for Christian piety, something much more than mere remembrance. This conviction has a solid theological grounding. (#154)
He explains that our faith tells us that our participation in the life of Christ extends beyond the limits of time and space, and therefore it is possible for us, in prayer, to be present at Christ’s moment of suffering just as we participate in his death and resurrection through the sacraments (##155-56). Similarly, he points out that it is Christ’s grace working in us that leads us to desire to share in Christ’s sufferings, and so the practice of consolation is not an instance of the finite creature giving strength to the infinite Creator, but rather God inviting us to share in the divine life.
What I find particularly noteworthy about this section is Pope Francis’s insistence that authentic popular piety is an expression of the sensus fidelium, the “sense of the faithful.” This corresponds closely with his claim in Evangelii Gaudium, which I noted earlier, that popular piety is an important locus theologicus, or source for theological reflection. In the third chapter of Dilexit Nos he similarly refers to the Sacred Heart as a “synthesis of the Gospel” (#83).
The Second Vatican Council’s Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Lumen Gentium, describes the sense of the faithful in this way:
The entire body of the faithful, anointed as they are by the Holy One, cannot err in matters of belief. They manifest this special property by means of the whole peoples' supernatural discernment in matters of faith when "from the Bishops down to the last of the lay faithful" they show universal agreement in matters of faith and morals. That discernment in matters of faith is aroused and sustained by the Spirit of truth. It is exercised under the guidance of the sacred teaching authority, in faithful and respectful obedience to which the people of God accepts that which is not just the word of men but truly the word of God. Through it, the people of God adheres unwaveringly to the faith given once and for all to the saints, penetrates it more deeply with right thinking, and applies it more fully in its life. (#12)
The faith is not something possessed by the bishops or theological experts and passed on to the rest of the faithful; although the Magisterium guides the faithful, the faith itself belongs to the whole Church.
The notion of the sense of faithful is also closely linked to synodality. Just as the faith belongs to the whole Church, then similarly each member, receiving distinct vocations and gifts, participates in the mission of the Church and has a voice in the governance of the Church. The synodal process is really an expression of Lumen Gentium’s claim that the People of God together participate in “supernatural discernment in matters of faith.”
This link between the sensus fidelium and synodality should lead us to consider whether Pope Francis intended Dilexit Nos as in some way a contribution to the formal synodal process that was in its final week when the document was published. Writing at America, Ricardo da Silva, S.J. notes the odd timing of the encyclical’s release, seemingly stealing the spotlight from the final moments of what is one of Francis’s most important initiatives. Da Silva cites a passage near the end of the encyclical which seems to link its teachings to how Francis thinks of synodality:
The Church also needs that love [i.e., the love of Christ], lest the love of Christ be replaced with outdated structures and concerns, excessive attachment to our own ideas and opinions, and fanaticism in any number of forms, which end up taking the place of the gratuitous love of God that liberates, enlivens, brings joy to the heart and builds communities. (#219)
As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, Pope Francis envisions synodality as precisely the process by which the Church can shed “outdated structures and concerns” and respond to the promptings of the Spirit, so I think da Silva is right that here in Dilexit Nos, Francis is suggesting that the love of Christ, symbolized by the Sacred Heart, is what animates synodality.
I would also, however, point to an earlier paragraph in the encyclical as likewise connected to the synodal process:
[T]he heart of Christ also frees us from another kind of dualism found in communities and pastors excessively caught up in external activities, structural reforms that have little to do with the Gospel, obsessive reorganization plans, worldly projects, secular ways of thinking and mandatory programs. The result is often a Christianity stripped of the tender consolations of faith, the joy of serving others, the fervor of personal commitment to mission, the beauty of knowing Christ and the profound gratitude born of the friendship he offers and the ultimate meaning he gives to our lives. This too is the expression of an illusory and disembodied otherworldliness. (#88)
The Synod has proposed a number of structural reforms and reorganization plans, like the more widespread use of parish and diocesan councils and revising the process for priestly formation. Here, I think, Francis is not rejecting such reforms, but rather suggesting that they should always be carried out with “heart,” in a spirit of love.
This summer, I noted that one of the key themes in the Instrumentum Laboris document used to guide the recent Synod assembly was the need for the Church to be less of an institution and more of a true community, a sentiment captured in this passage from the final synthesis document from last year’s Synod gathering and cited in the Instrumentum Laboris: “This process has renewed our experience of and desire for the Church as God's home and family, a Church that is closer to the lives of Her people, less bureaucratic and more relational.” Pope Francis is saying much the same thing in Dilexit Nos, but what I think is distinctive about the message of the encyclical is its insistence that popular piety is an important source of “heart” in the life of the Church.
Finally, in Dilexit Nos, Francis suggests that popular devotions have the missionary quality called for by the Synod. He writes:
It could be argued that today . . . we find ourselves before a powerful wave of secularization that seeks to build a world free of God. In our societies, we are also seeing a proliferation of varied forms of religiosity that have nothing to do with a personal relationship with the God of love, but are new manifestations of a disembodied spirituality. . . . For this reason, I turn my gaze to the heart of Christ and I invite all of us to renew our devotion to it. I hope this will also appeal to today’s sensitivities and thus help us to confront the dualisms, old and new, to which this devotion offers an effective response. (#87)
I suspect that when Francis refers to “manifestations of a disembodied spirituality,” he is thinking of certain aspects of the New Age phenomenon, although it is not clear. But his insistence that popular devotions like the Sacred Heart can be an effective response to secularization and other corrosive trends reflects the influence of the Argentinean theology of the people, which I mentioned earlier. As he explains in the first chapter of the encyclical, the Sacred Heart of Jesus brings together body and spirit, natural and supernatural, in an integrated whole that defies the dualisms of modern life.
Pope Francis’s defense of popular piety in Dilexit Nos is, I think, simply one important strand in a complex document, but it’s a theme that has been central to Pope Francis’s pontificate, and therefore I thought it was worth highlighting. The encyclical also weaves this concern with popular piety with other themes important to Pope Francis, like God’s mercy and the sense of the faithful, and therefore is emblematic of his teaching as a whole.