Hans Urs von Balthasar: On the Withdrawal of Hans Küng's Authorization to Teach

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On the Withdrawal of Hans Küng's Authorization to Teach

by Hans Urs von Balthasar

Published in Communio: International Catholic Review 7, no. 1 (Spring 1980): 90-93. Printable version (pdf).

What to many people may seem like a bolt from heaven is, in reality, the culmination of ten years of intensive and tragic investigation. No objective judgment can be formed without access to the nearly 200-page appendix to the statement of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith and the Conference of German Bishops. It contains all the relevant documents from 1967 to 1979. When studied without prejudice, the surface perturbances recede and the real issues come to the fore. In the following I shall refer to source materials by page numbers in the Appendix of the German Bishops’ statement.

One can be justifiably annoyed by Küng’s poor taste in publicly questioning and throwing doubt on the Pope’s Christianity and then falsely claiming that in retaliation he was deprived of his teaching position. The disrespect with which he addresses the representatives of the Congregation is also irritating. But most aggravating is his obstinacy in leaving the bishops’ questions unanswered and, instead, focusing attention on Roman procedures which he deems unsatisfactory. His technique of prolonging the proceedings is, to say the least, provoking: he answers invitations too late or with a curt “I have no time,” or “it is mid-semester,” or “I am traveling,” or “I am writing a book.” It is amazing that the Roman and German authorities have had that much patience with him. One follows with anguish how those who were sincerely well disposed toward him become frustrated and finally write him off: Cardinal Volk writes, “I beg you from the depth of my heart to speak for once with Rome.” Cardinal Doepfner toward the end of his life concedes that if at long last the difficulties are not cleared up, “I will hardly be in a position to help” (p. 115). The Bishop of Rottenburg also loses heart: “An unpleasant sequel is unavoidable” (p. 185). Küng, in answer to continued pleas for revision, occasionally makes a promise or holds out hope for explanations to come in a new book.

The Roman procedures were “closed for the time being” on April 9, 1974, with a final warning to Küng to cease teaching what is incompatible and irreconcilable with Catholic doctrine, such as denying that the Church’s teaching authority derives directly from Christ or asserting that lay persons can validly celebrate the Eucharist in an emergency. Küng totally ignores these admonitions and says so specifically in his preface to Hassler’s second book on Vatican I, as well as in his theological meditations on truth inherent in the Church. At that time the Sacred Congregation called it to his attention that “it was the Church’s authority that gave him the faculty to teach theology, in the spirit of the Church’s authority and not from a point of view that distorts these teachings or casts doubt on them” (p. 104).

In the course of time dogmatic problems have become more numerous. Particularly after To Be a Christian appeared, not merely the Church’s authority but central tenets of Christology, teachings about the Trinity, about redemption and grace have been questioned. One shares the wish that Küng would take a clear stand on the essentials of the Credo. His answer is gruff: “I find it highly unreasonable that a confession of faith is demanded from me, a tenured professor of theology” (p. 147). But a few sentences further in the document he states: “These extremely subtle and complex questions that are asked from all theologians cannot be answered by the catechism” (p. 148). Avoidance tactics first to one then to the other side? Surely. But it still leaves us on the periphery of the real problem.

The central focus is fundamentally simple: To Küng, Church authority derived from Christ is an unproven belief that would have to be thoroughly discussed (with him) before he would accept a statement or question based on this premise. Actually, he gave the answer—a negative one—in his book on the Church. He questions the continuity between Christ and the Church (echoing Bultmann) and therefore a theologian (read here Karl Barth) stands only under the authority of the Word of God and not under that of the Church. “What authority validates my opinion? The authority of the Word of God, whom as a theologian I have to serve” (p. 102). Hence, it is logical that he continues to demand that the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith first prove to him theologically its authority. Therefore, “to quote only those teaching documents which refer to my questions is a vicious circle; what should be proven is taken for granted” (p. 51, 74). “It is an easily seen- through petitio principii to present as a proof those authoritative texts which . . . are exactly questioned” (p. 178).

Küng wants Rome to engage in a debate with him. He invites the members of the Congregation to come to his seminar. Their travel expenses to Tübingen would be reimbursed (p. 52). If Rome does not clarify scientifically its claim to authority, the demand for “a colloquium is meaningless for both parties” (p. 73). But the “Congregation is incapable” of giving proof to its empty statements (p. 53). Therefore, it should hold its peace and leave the theologians to “conduct their inquiries without obstacles” (p. 78).

Contesting that the Church’s authority issues from Christ has a corollary: the demand for unlimited freedom of theological research. Küng repeatedly refers to an allegedly lost document demanding this freedom that was signed by 1,360 theologians. They granted bishops the office of pastoral evangelization but claimed for themselves the authority of “scientific teaching” and resisted “any form of even the subtlest inquisition” (p. 77). “Pastoral” is to be strictly differentiated from “theological.” When questioned about this, Küng said: “Yes, a Catholic Church community was possible and again could be possible without a strongly authoritarian leadership (such as monopoly by the Church’s teaching authority to interpret Scripture and tradition) and with free, unbiased scientific research” (p. 179).

What for Catholics are “binding truths” are for him “not so simple” considering the problems—discerned even in Rome—that were created by the magisterium’s decisions from Galileo through the Syllabus to the encyclicals Humanae vitae and Humanae generis (p. 96). Though behind these actions stand old and new conciliar and papal definitions, these on their part do not claim to be “infallible statements” (p. 172). Ultimately, all statements are historically determined (p. 75). Hassler’s book on Vatican I is grist to Küng’s mill. In his preface to this book he throws all reserve to the winds and demands a complete revision (to be understood as “withdrawal”) of the Council’s statements (p. 181).

Can one be astonished by Küng holding this point of view, the inner consistency of which is beyond question? (His personal honesty has not been questioned.) I don’t think so. These are good Protestant points of view, which many evangelical Christians hold optima fide and the reasons behind them are understandable even to Catholics. All these faithful can profess Una Catholica if they understand by that term the “general, all-inclusive church which continues in faith and community despite all ruptures.” To this Küng also professes allegiance (p. 180). But it is harder to accept the none-too-light cross with which this church would saddle its followers by placing itself under the sole authority of the Word of God and simultaneously submitting this to the forum of the historical-critical method. Küng fully understands this difficulty.

It is not necessary here to go further into the Catholic position, which sees in the hierarchical office (of bishops, councils, popes) a line of communication, established by Christ himself, between the Incarnate Word of God and ourselves and which, of course, implies apostolic succession. Two things should be clear about the Catholic position: as the Word of God in the Gospels speaks in human terms understandable to every man, so the essential truths of the Credo, of the Councils, of the catechisms, have a transparent meaning which is pre- or supra-theological, if one means by theology a specialized scientific discipline. Theology can study and explain these truths but it cannot critically wipe them out. Among these truths belongs also, according to Catholic understanding, the ecclesiastical authority of the successors of the apostles—firmly based on the words of the New Testament, with Peter as the unifying link—whose task is to announce the Word of God but also to keep it uncontaminated. This implies the possibility of examination (that terrible word “inquisition” means nothing more than “examination”) which, as the painful case of Küng shows, can be conducted fairly. The writings of the New Testament tell of several such house-cleanings, which then as now were simply definitions of an already existing situation. No doubt, spiritual authority in the hand of imperfect man is a dangerous instrument. The closer something is to the holy the more it can be misused—otherwise we would not have had the Reformation.

In closing, I can’t but remember that shortly before his death, Karl Barth told me that Hans Küng (whom he began to mistrust) had paid him a visit and said to him triumphantly: “We will witness a new Reformation in the Church.” And Barth answered, “A reform would suffice.”