Recently, at a meeting with Lutherans, Pope Francis said that “proselytism is the strongest poison against the ecumenical path”, and, when asked what to do in order to convince those who have no faith, he affirmed: “The last thing you must do is ‘speak’. You are to live as a Christian who is chosen, forgiven, and on the way. It is not licit to convince others of your faith.” He also advised limiting oneself to “preparing the ground for the Holy Spirit, who works in hearts. He must speak, not you”.

Faced with these statements, many of us have been left perplexed, and I have wished to write this article in order to try to understand, as best I can, the Pope’s words.

Definition of proselytism

I usually say, inspired by the scholastic adage, “De definitionibus non est disputandum” (“definitions are not to be disputed”), because terminological questions are of secondary order in relation to questions of substance or content, and because everyone has the right to choose his own terminology, within certain limits. Nevertheless, it is important that, whenever one makes use of a given terminology, one should explain clearly what is meant by it. It is also important to understand how that term is understood by most people today. If we do this, we will be avoiding ambiguities and misunderstandings.

As explained several years ago by Monsignor Fernando Ocáriz, a Spanish priest and theologian, Auxiliary Vicar of Opus Dei and consultor of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, the word proselytism has traditionally been used in two senses: one positive and the other negative.

In a negative sense, to describe a manner of acting that is not in conformity with the spirit of the Gospel, when one uses dishonest arguments to draw men to his Community, taking advantage, for example, of their ignorance, poverty, and so on.

In a positive sense, as a concept equivalent to that of missionary activity; and he explains that “in the Bible this term has no negative connotation whatsoever. A ‘proselyte’ was one who believed in the Lord and accepted his law, and in this way became a member of the Jewish community. Christianity took over this meaning to describe one who was converted from paganism. Until recent times, missionary activity and proselytism were regarded as equivalent concepts”.

At present, the use given to the word since the most recent pontificates has been the pejorative sense, and this has prevailed to such a degree that when someone speaks of proselytism he usually refers only to dishonest methods for drawing others to the faith. In practice it has also been an attempt to ease the situation of Christians in countries where Christianity is a minority, and who, under the accusation of proselytism, are persecuted and condemned to death. The case of Asia Bibi is one of many emblematic cases, and therefore today it is preferred no longer to use the term “proselytism” to describe the effort to draw others to the true faith, but rather that of “evangelization”.

In this sense, there would be no reason at all to be perplexed when the Pope describes “proselytism” as the strongest poison against the ecumenical path, because it is in no way licit to resort to dishonest methods, not even to bring the Christian message, for we know that the end does not justify the means.

But Mons. Fernando Ocáriz also explains, in the previously cited article, that “the underlying problem is that, with the tendency—which is being pressed upon certain circles—of using the word ‘proselytism’ as something negative, one seeks to affirm a relativist and subjectivist attitude, above all on the religious plane, for which it would make no sense that a person should claim to hold the truth and should strive to convince others so that they may embrace it and be incorporated into the Church. The disparagement, present in some circles, of the word ‘proselytism,’ above all when it refers to the Christian apostolate, has much to do, in effect, with that ‘dictatorship of relativism which does not recognize anything as definitive and whose ultimate goal consists solely of one’s own ego and desires’” (Ratzinger, Homily at the Mass for the beginning of the Conclave, 18-IV-2005)”.

It is here that the words of Pope Francis have caused perplexity in many of us, because he has literally said that “the last thing you must do is ‘speak’. You are to live as a Christian who is chosen, forgiven, and on the way. It is not licit to convince others of your faith.”

I understand perfectly well that the Pope is not exhorting to indifferentism, since he goes on to speak of “preparing the ground for the Holy Spirit, who works in hearts. He must speak, not you”; but even so it is incomprehensible to me to see the effort to convince others to accept the Christian faith as something that excludes the action of the Holy Spirit, for it has always been understood that it is God, the first cause, acting through man as second cause.

It goes without saying that when we try to convince others we are not deciding for them, nor imposing our faith upon them; we are helping them as the instrument that we are, taking for granted that it is God who in the end does the work. Or is it not God who worketh in us, both to will and to accomplish, according to his good will? (Philippians 2:13)

A new way of evangelizing?

Of course, as a Catholic I understand that the Pope, as a human being, has his own particular pastoral style. Not all Popes can be alike, and here it seems to be a matter of a different approach, or an indirect way of attracting solely through witness. In the history of the Church many saints, such as for example Saint Francis of Assisi, managed to attract at one and the same time in a passive manner (by pure example and without saying a word) and in an active manner (exhorting, inviting, and convincing), but they never remained content with the first alone, still less did they teach that the second was illicit.

The New Testament tells us that Saint Paul “reasoned in the synagogue every sabbath, and he persuaded the Jews and the Greeks” (Acts 18:4), and throughout the New Testament we see described again and again the efforts he actively devoted to obtaining conversions. Was Saint Paul mistaken back then?

Saint Peter, the first Pope, in his first great preaching invited his whole audience to be converted: “Peter said to them: ‘Do penance, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ, for the remission of your sins; and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost’” (Acts 2:38)

Not only the apostles: the exhortation to be converted comes from God himself in the Old Testament through his prophets:

“Turn ye at my reproof: behold I will utter my spirit to you, and will shew you my words.” (Proverbs 1:23)

“Therefore say to the house of Israel: Thus saith the Lord God: Be converted, and depart from your idols, and turn away your faces from all your abominations.” (Ezekiel 14:6)

From Saint John the Baptist and from Jesus himself:

“From that time Jesus began to preach, and to say: ‘Do penance, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.’” (Matthew 4:17)

“The time is accomplished, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent, and believe the gospel.” (Mark 1:15)

And not only they and the apostles, but throughout all the centuries of the Church. One would have to write volumes upon volumes to mention them all, but I recall Saint Francis Xavier disputing with the bonzes, trying to convince them, and Saint Anthony of Padua convincing Patarine heretics and bringing them back to the true faith. Saint Ignatius of Loyola, and a long etcetera. What are we to do? Do we throw them under the horses’ hooves?

We are saved by faith; faith comes by preaching, ex auditu; the just man lives by faith.

That is why an approach such as the one that seems to be proposed here is, in my opinion, very easy to misinterpret, and it can be harmful and disastrous, sinking Catholics still deeper into apathy. Let us imagine, for example, the following conversation between two Catholics regarding a possible interpretation of the Pope’s words:

Of course, it is no more than a joke, but are we sure there will not be those who understand them in this way? Similar gestures of Pope Francis have been interpreted in this sense, not only by Catholics but by Protestants, as for example this Protestant newspaper which claims that the Pope forbids attempting to convert the Jews to the Christian faith. Even high prelates of our Church seem to think along these lines, as for example Cardinal Koch, president of the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity, who in recent statements said that we Catholics must not evangelize the Jews, whom we are to regard as elder brothers, but that we should indeed evangelize the Muslims—after which Father Federico Lombardi, at the time the Vatican spokesman, came out to clarify that he had been misinterpreted: that Catholics must not try to convert the Muslims either, but only evangelize them, concepts which, in his opinion, seem to be mutually exclusive.

Not long ago, Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI came out of his retirement to bring to the fore what he considers a fundamental problem in this regard. With great lucidity he affirmed: “CHRISTIAN FAITH AND THE SALVATION OF UNBELIEVERS

There is no doubt that, on this point, we stand before a profound development of doctrine. […] If it is true that the great missionaries of the sixteenth century were convinced that whoever was not baptized was lost forever—and this explains their missionary commitment—after the Second Vatican Council that conviction was definitively abandoned in the Catholic Church.

From this there follows a twofold and profound crisis. On the one hand, this seems to remove any kind of motivation for a future missionary commitment. Why should one try to convince people to accept the Christian faith when they can also be saved without it?

But a question was also raised for Christians as well: the binding character of the faith and of its way of life became uncertain and problematic. After all, if there are those who can be saved in other ways too, it is no longer so clear why the Christian must be bound to the demands of the Christian faith and its morality. If faith and salvation are no longer interdependent, then faith too loses its motivation.

In recent times various attempts have been made in order to reconcile the universal necessity of the Christian faith with the possibility of being saved without it.

I recall two: first of all, the well-known thesis of the anonymous Christians of Karl Rahner. […] It is true that this theory is fascinating, but it reduces Christianity to a mere conscious presentation of what the human being already is in himself and, therefore, it neglects the drama of change and of renewal that is fundamental to Christianity.

Even less acceptable is the solution proposed by the pluralist theories of religion, according to which all religions, each in its own way, would be paths of salvation and, in this sense, equivalent to one another. The critique of religion as it is exercised by the Old Testament, the New Testament, and the early Church is essentially more realistic, more concrete, and more true in its analysis of the various religions. So simplistic an acceptance is not proportionate to the greatness of the question.

We recall above all Henri de Lubac, and with him other theologians, who insisted on the concept of vicarious substitution. […] Christ, being unique, was and is for all; and Christians, who in Paul’s magnificent image constitute his body in this world, share in that “being for.” To put it in some way, one is not a Christian for oneself, but with Christ, for others.

This does not mean possessing a kind of special ticket for entering eternal beatitude, but rather the vocation to build up the whole, the entirety. What the human person needs in order to attain salvation is an inner openness toward God, an inner expectation of and adherence to him; and this, conversely, means that we, together with the Lord whom we have come to know, go out toward others and try to make visible to them the event of God in Christ. […]

I think that in the present situation what the Lord says to Abraham becomes for us ever more evident and comprehensible—namely, that ten righteous men would have sufficed for the city to survive, but that the city destroys itself if it does not reach even so small a number. It is clear that we must reflect further on this whole question.”

Benedict XVI, Ten righteous men are enough to save the whole city.

Translation by Sandro Magister

I can understand that, for reasons of “political” prudence, the clergy might prefer to avoid the use of certain terminology so as not to offend our brethren of other religions, using synonyms that mean essentially the same thing. But what I cannot understand is that such terminology should seem to forbid the zeal that every good Christian ought to have for drawing others to the faith, actively exhorting them to embrace it and to be united to it.

After all, if we try to convert them it is precisely because we desire their good. For there are but two possibilities: if we are truly convinced that “it is only through the Catholic Church of Christ, which is the ‘general help to salvation,’ that the total fullness of the means of salvation can be attained” (Second Vatican Council, Unitatis Redintegratio 3), then there is no other choice—unless we do not care about their destiny or do not love them. But if we think that in the end it makes no difference where they are, because they are fine there, then let us put out the lights and be gone, for we are wasting our time.

The great Cardinal Newman relates that, during the great Arian crisis in the fourth century, almost the entire hierarchy was unfaithful to its mission, while the body of the laity was faithful to its baptism; that at times the Pope, at times the patriarch, a metropolitan bishop or one of another great see, and at other times the councils, said what ought not to have been said, or obscured and compromised the revealed truth; whereas, on the other side, it was the Christian people who, under Providence, constituted the expression of the ecclesial vigor of Athanasius, Hilary, Eusebius of Vercelli, and other great solitary confessors, who would have failed without them.

Let us not forget the lessons of history, for even though we keep silent, the stones will cry out.

Author: José Miguel Arráiz