The Working Document for Round Two of the Synod
Part II: Consultation and Accountability
Last month, the Vatican released the working document, or Instrumentum Laboris (IL), that will serve as the starting point for the conversations at the second session of the Synod on Synodality in the Vatican this October. I wrote the first of two commentaries on the document at the time, explaining the sources and themes of the document, and now at long last—delayed by travel a bout of COVID—here is the second part!
Rather than summarizing the whole document, I identified three themes that I thought were characteristic of the document as a whole and that I believe will prove central to October’s conversations: 1) synodality as an antidote to bureaucracy in the Church; 2) new forms of Church decision-making based on listening and discernment; and 3) the need for accountability in Church leadership. I addressed the first of these in the first part of my commentary and will turn to the other two here.
As I noted in the first part, Pope Francis created ten Vatican working groups that would take up several of the issues that were discussed at the first session of the Synod last October but that are now off the agenda for this year’s gathering. The issues included some of those that had garnered the most attention, like the inclusion of LGBTQ persons in the Church and the possibility of women deacons, and Francis’s decision has been the source of some consternation for those who thought the Synod might address these issues. Still, Francis’s intent seems to have been for the Synod itself to focus on delineating roles, relationships, and structures in a more synodal Church.
The second part of the IL (following an opening section introducing the idea of synodality) calls on the Church to break free from bureaucratic sclerosis and to focus on its evangelizing mission. The Church, of course, needs institutions and structures, but the IL insists that the notion of co-responsibility—the sense that the members of the Church, by virtue of their shared vocation given at baptism, are provided with a variety of gifts that should be used in service to the Church and world—together with a commitment to walking or journeying together can animate these structures without them becoming overly bureaucratic. In other words, the Church’s synodal identity calls for it to decisively move “from maintenance to mission.”
The third part of the document explores some of the concrete implications of this vision, focusing in particular on decision-making in the Church and accountability. When it comes to decision-making in a synodal Church, the IL does not hold back. It insists that every baptized member of the Church should be able to participate in the Church’s decision-making, although “based on a differentiated responsibility” (67). What this last phrase means is that this is not a call for democratic decision-making by referendum in the Church, and pastors and bishops still have a distinct, decisive role to play in the Church’s governance. Still, the voice of the faithful must be heard and play a role in the decision-making process.
When considering this process, the IL makes a key distinction between what it calls “decision-making” and “decision-taking” (36), or we might say between deliberation and judgment. The faithful as a whole must take part in the decision-making of the Church, even if it is the competent authorities who ultimately have the responsibility for taking the decision (68). The IL settles on the term “consultation” as a descriptor for the first part of this process, and it rejects any language that minimizes the importance of the consultative role of the faithful in Church decision-making. For example, it calls for the revision of instances in which the Code of Canon Law refers to the consultation of the faithful as tantum consultivum (“only a consultive vote”) (70).
The consultation of the faithful in Church decision-making is itself just a particular instance of the broader process of discernment in the Church. We tend to think of discernment as a personal process, and it surely is that, but here the IL wants us to think of discernment as likewise a community process in which together we figure out to what God is calling us as a Church and how best to use the gifts we’ve been given. Just as we’ve all been given distinct gifts to be placed at the service of the Church’s mission, we all should also have a voice in the Church, and members of the Church should make special efforts to include those at the margins of Church life in this process of discernment (60).
Discernment by necessity must involve listening, and the IL helpfully makes clear that the listening process begins with listening to the Word of God, to the promptings of the Holy Spirit, and to the Tradition and Magisterium of the Church (6). But discernment also involves listening to each other, and every member of the Church must develop the capacity to listen to and learn from others (54). The IL notes that the Church’s Tradition has developed many methods for practicing discernment, and it proposes the method of “Conversation in the Spirit” used in the synodal process as one such method (54). On the other hand, it insists that we must never think of discernment as a “mere organizational technique,” but rather as a process that springs from the very life of the Church (62); again, we see the concern with avoiding bureaucratization!
The IL likewise states that different procedures for engaging in consultative decision-making may develop within the Church, depending on the particular context (71). Still, in very strong language, the document insists that authorities—and here it seems to include not just bishops, but also pastors, the leaders of religious communities, and the leaders of various ministries and associations, as well—must genuinely consider the voices of the faithful expressed during consultation, and if there is a general agreement among the faithful, the leader should not depart from that sense of the faithful without a compelling reason (69). It notes that bishops in their diocese, the College of Bishops considered as a whole, and the pope all have a unique kind of inherent authority, but even this authority “is not unconditional”; the sense of the faithful that emerges through discernment “cannot be ignored” (70). These are bold claims! Their concrete implications, however, are not worked out, a task which may be taken up by the Synod itself.
This description of what decision-making in the Church should look like suggests that leaders in positions of authority should be accountable to the faithful, both by involving them in the process of consultation and by taking to heart the sense of the faithful. The IL defines accountability even more broadly, however, suggesting that it refers to being held responsible both for how one uses the gifts one has received and for one’s stewardship of the gifts of others (74). For example, it states that the episcopal ministry should not be understood as “an accumulation of prerogatives,” but rather as a responsibility to gather together and nurture the gifts of the faithful (38). It rightly claims that lack of accountability among bishops and priests has fueled clericalism, the failure to foster the distinct gifts of the laity (75).
The IL notes that the contemporary push for accountability in the Church has arisen as a result of financial scandals and the worldwide sexual abuse crisis (75). For example, in the language of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB), “accountability” has almost become synonymous with policies meant to prevent the sexual abuse of minors or for addressing the needs of victims. The IL, however, and I think rightly, insists that accountability should not just be something we consider in moments of crisis and scandal, but should become a value woven into the everyday workings of the Church, whether it is pastoral planning at the parish or diocesan level, financial planning, or the treatment of pastoral workers (76).
Unfortunately, the IL pulls up a bit short here and does not say much more on what accountability in the Church should look like. As with decision-making processes, it states that local Churches and broader Church structures (like episcopal conferences) should develop procedures for promoting accountability (78). It does propose that there should be some type of evaluation process in place for ministerial leaders (77), an idea I found particularly exciting because my career path has led me to academic assessment in higher ed; it’s an intriguing idea, but it boggles the mind thinking about what an evaluation, or assessment, process might look like in the Church. Hopefully what accountability looks like will be a topic of further conversation when the Synod convenes in October.
Despite the lack of concreteness on what a consultative decision-making process in the Church or accountability for Church leaders might look like, the IL is really a remarkable document for putting so much focus on the need for the voice of the faithful to be heard in the Church’s decision-making and for Church leaders to be held accountable for their decisions. Working documents never get much attention, but this one has the potential to be a spark that lights a quite explosive conversation in October.
Before closing, I do want to make two observations on unresolved issues in the IL. The first is that it has little to say about how a synodal Church should handle conflict. Of course, the goal of discernment in the Church should be to reach a general consensus, but as we know, in reality consensus cannot always be reached. There are deep divisions and disagreements in the Church that cannot be easily resolved. We experienced those divisions in the synodal process, and in fact one of the realities discerned in that process has been that at least some of those divisions are likely to be long-term realities in the Church, even if we must learn to listen to and dialogue with one another. I wish the IL had given more focus to this reality in its discussions of discernment and consultation. What should consultation look like in a Church community where there are deep divisions or disagreements?
In the same vein, I wish the document had said more about how Church leaders should deal with conflict in their communities. For example, the document considers the possibility of a leader taking a decision that goes against the general consensus of the faithful. But how should a leader decide what to do when the faithful strongly disagree amongst themselves on an issue? How can the leader help the community work toward overcoming this conflict? These are surely more common pastoral situations than the one envisioned in the document.
My second observation is that, although the document envisions a less bureaucratic Church, its calls for consultative decision-making and accountability are potentially in tension with that aim. If everyone’s voice is to be heard, then there will need to be policies in place to ensure that happens. And there will need to be people responsible for making sure the policies are up to date and for making sure they are followed. And there will need to be procedures outlining what to do when the policies aren’t followed. If Church leaders are going to be held accountable, then, as a matter of fairness, it needs to be spelled out what sorts of things she or he will be held accountable for, there will need to be a process for adjudicating potential infractions, and also a process for appeal. And so on. There seems to be an insuperable tension here.
The IL does provide some helpful criteria for ensuring that Church procedures remain grounded in the evangelical spirit: a) both individuals and groups should engage in prayer and participation in the Eucharist; b) individuals and groups should prepare themselves by listening to both the Word of God and concrete reality; c) there should be deep and respectful listening to each person involved; d) a consensus based on conviction, rather than the “lowest common denominator,” should be sought; and e) any decision should be shared with those who contributed to the decision-making process, seeking their verification that their voice was heard (63). These are helpful steps for avoiding the pitfalls of bureaucratization, but it also seems to me that at least some bureaucracy will be unavoidable in the life of the Church!
Of Interest…
Speaking of bureaucracy . . . The American theologian William, or Bill, Cavanaugh has been an important influence on my own development. He began to achieve prominence as a scholar when I was in graduate school, and in fact my first published scholarly article was a friendly critique of the role of the modern state in his political theology. He’s also an important interlocutor in my book on Catholic social teaching and the economy.
Cavanaugh’s latest book, The Uses of Idolatry, came out earlier this year. I haven’t had a chance to read it yet, but it has come to my attention that in it, he writes:
. . . An exchange has taken place, whereby God has been depersonalized, reduced to merely immanent and impersonal forces of human creation, while the most mundane and rational processes and institutions have been divinized. Because they are merely human creations, there is no appeal to them for mercy. No single individual can change their predestined fate as determined by the inscrutable will of the modern deus absconditus. So the modern individual must proclaim their own freedom to invent their own god and devote themselves to it. At the same time, other gods are not simply offering themselves up to human choice but rather imposing themselves with irresistible force upon the individual. Weber tells the story of fragmentation and plurality of meaning and values at the same time that he tells the story of a stifling uniformity. Plurality and uniformity may simply be two sides of the same coin of modernity. Likewise, enchantment and disenchantment are inextricably entangled. Rationalization has clearly not done away with irrationality, and disenchantment has not put the gods to bed. In every case, the two sides of these binaries seem to need and depend upon each other.
And then the kicker:
Weber’s description of impersonal and irresistible bureaucracy will resonate with anyone who has been subjected to assessment, compliance, and training exercises at the twenty-first-century university. . . .
As a theologian trying to live out my vocation while working professionally as a humble assessment bureaucrat at a massive public university, I couldn’t help but laugh. Have I inadvertently put myself in the service of one of the great idols of modernity?
But seriously, having been involved with academic assessment for a long time, I understand that, in many cases, universities make assessment a compulsory matter whose benefits to faculty and students are unclear, and assessment can add paperwork at some of the busiest times of the academic year. On the other hand, at its heart, academic assessment is a community process of critically reflecting on how we can improve our teaching or update our curricula to ensure that we are doing our best to provide our students with the knowledge and skills of a well-rounded person formed in a particular academic discipline (or two, or three!). Assessment should be a process of both personal and institutional growth, as well as accountability. It seems odd, then, to single out assessment administrators—or compliance officers responsible for helping university faculty and staff navigate tricky ethical issues like conflicts of interest, potential risks to students, etc., or in the case of Title IX compliance officers, issues of gender and racial justice—as particularly merciless agents of the modern idols. I think we need to look elsewhere for those who bear much more responsibility for a lack of mercy in the name of seemingly irresistible forces at our colleges and universities.
But regardless, Cavanaugh’s point in this brief passage resonates well with the tension I noted between resisting bureaucratization and the call for accountability in the Instrumentum Laboris!