It is no secret that the population of practicing Catholics in the U.S. and Europe has been declining over recent decades. The same is true with religion in general, and a large part is due to a distaste for structure and rules. A Pew Research study found about a quarter of Americans to be “spiritual but not religious” — an identification that rose 8% over a five-year span. An interview between Bishop Barron and Tara Isabella Burton involved discussion regarding the rise of the “nones” — those unaffiliated with a religion — and those practicing new religions centered around abstract spirituality instead of a theological God.
As a doctrine-heavy faith, Catholicism has certainly been impacted by this emphasis on spirituality and disregard for religious “rules.” Catholics’ responses seem to fall within a spectrum: On one end are those who view doctrine as optional, or certainly secondary to feelings of spiritual intensity. On the other end are those who are over-scrupulous and double down on the importance of any sort of rule, even those that regard Catholic culture instead of doctrine.
Want more Radiant? Sign up for our weekly newsletter!
How should Catholics respond to the rising spiritual-but-not-religious culture, especially when present within the Church? This is a complex issue; however, as is true of virtue, the ideal state is unlikely to be at an extreme. My intent is to share thoughts on why adherence to Church doctrine is necessary and spiritually freeing as well as why there are dangers in strict rule-following.
The necessity of doctrine
Perhaps my favorite C.S. Lewis analogy is one that likens religious doctrine to an ocean map. After giving a talk, a man from the audience approached Lewis and said he found doctrine to be unnecessary and petty. The man described some powerful and authentic experiences he had of God even without his following doctrine. Lewis wrote that when the man “turned from that experience [of God] to the Christian creeds, he really was turning from something real to something less real. In the same way, if a man has once looked at the Atlantic from the beach, and then goes and looks at a map of the Atlantic, he also will be turning from something real to something less real.” Authentic experiences of God are possible even while ignorant to doctrine.
However, Lewis continued by asserting that theology is like a map. It is less “exciting” than a personal encounter with God, but the maps are “based on the experience of hundreds of people who really were in touch with God,” and “if you want to get any further, you must use a map.”
To solely rely on personal encounters with God without including the wisdom of Church Tradition gives authentic excitement, but it leaves one without direction. Our own intuition is certainly subordinate to the hundreds of holy men and women who have guided the Church for the last two thousand years. Doctrine consists of theological wisdom that has been honed and sharpened through the millennia and continues to provide the necessary direction.
The freedom with doctrine
There is a Jesuit maxim that, upon first hearing, seems paradoxical: “The freer you are, the less choice you have.” Indeed, to be spiritually free requires a giving up of potential options: perhaps drinking too much, tithing too little, marrying a particular person, or taking a particular job. The path to spiritual freedom is not an ambiguous realm of endless opportunity. There are rules that provide direction. On the outside this may seem limiting and constricting, but in reality, rules open up the true potential of a thing.
Say a person with no piano-playing experience was asked to compose a concerto. She would have all the keys — so many choices — before her. Yet, her cluelessness would lead to a cacophony. Some rules would need to be established first: a definition of chords, development of meter, creation of a bridge, and so forth. One cannot simply sit down at a piano and create; understanding the fundamental rules of piano playing is a necessary prerequisite.
This sentiment has been echoed by other individuals. Picasso famously said, “Learn the rules like a pro, so you can break them like an artist.” In “Beauty: What it is and Why it Matters,” John-Mark Miravalle explained that beauty is composed of two things: orderliness and surprise. Chesterton elegantly expressed, “And the more I considered Christianity, the more I found that while it had established a rule and order, the chief aim of that order was to give room for good things to run wild.” More choices do not necessarily mean more freedom. Rules can be freeing.
As a final example, Aristotle famously posited that virtue is a habit. Say there are two people, A and B, who are at a party and see a plate of desserts on the table. For whatever the reason (perhaps they both gave up sweets for Lent), A and B know they shouldn’t indulge. Person A wrestles with the temptation, passing the table a few times but ultimately resisting. Person B immediately desires the dessert but is able to walk away without second thoughts. Which of the two is more virtuous? Initially, one may lean toward A, but Aristotle argues it is B. The more virtuous one becomes, the more natural it is to pursue the good.
Rules, creed, doctrine — these things enable pursuit of Christ himself. Things like Mass, the sacraments, service or striking up a conversation with that irksome individual at work become a desire rather than an obligation. Indeed, doctrine establishes a playing-within-the-bounds that allows for spiritual freedom — for good things to run wild.
The dangers of strict rule-following
However, there is also danger at the other end of the spectrum: the end in which rules seemingly become the telos, the end goal in and of themselves. There are circles of holy Catholics who can leave the impression that religious actions, such as praying the Rosary or visiting shrines, are things to be checked off a list. So long as God himself is the telos, these are very good. Although, there are natural temptations that arise the more rule-oriented one becomes.
One of these temptations is scrupulosity. This may manifest in over-intense fasting or only “counting” a prayer if it is said with 100% focus. Another temptation is judgment. This may appear in a condescending attitude toward Catholics who don’t have particular prayers memorized or aren’t as intellectually grounded in various teachings. Another temptation is a narrow focus. Hour-long conversations regarding whether or not a veil should be worn at Mass can trump discussions on service to the poor in some circles.
Christ demonstrated that intense rule-following can restrict love of God and neighbor in certain contexts. In John’s Gospel, Jesus cured a man who had been ill for 38 years, and the “Jews began to persecute Jesus because he did this on the sabbath” (5:18). Later, the scribes and Pharisees brought a woman to Jesus who had committed adultery, explaining, “In the law, Moses commanded us to stone such a woman.” Christ’s response was not stoning but rather the command, “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her” (Jn 8:5, 7). He demonstrates that rules are to be followed so long as they lead toward God.
In a world growing progressively more spiritual-but-not-religious, it is important to plant one’s feet somewhere. Adherence to Church doctrine is necessary and even freeing. Like all good things and all virtue, the telos must be God. It is he at the end of the ocean map, the work of art for which the artist breaks free, the healer and miracle worker who leads us to heaven.
