Preamble To begin, it must be put into the public record that this is NOT an attack against Tim Flanders as a person. Tim and I have been friends for a long while, and I owe a debt of gratitude to Tim for helping me get started as a writer and podcaster. He helped me to publish my first two books, and we have recorded a number of shows together. Tim and I have shared zillions of text messages and voice notes over the years, and we have supported each other, as friends do, through personal life traumas and obstacles. I have nothing but respect for Tim as a friend and as a man. Nevertheless, Tim is a writer, and so am I. We agree on a lot of things, and we disagree on some things. His views are public, and my views are public — which makes our work fair game. So, given that the SSPX is, clearly, very important to me, and the fact that Tim has begun publishing and broadcasting opinions that I believe are incorrect about the SSPX, I have decided to address some of them here. Let it be known that I spoke to Tim and told him I was going to do this before publishing. In any event, with the preamble out of the way, the majority of this essay will concern what Tim published in his article The SSPX and the Lay Nobility, and a couple of comments will be made about some of Tim’s opinions expressed in recent podcasts. Also, because Tim and I are so familiar with one another, I have decided to refer to him as simply “Tim” throughout the piece, because calling him Mr. Flanders, or using some other formality, seemed cold to me as I was writing, given our personal relationship. So, I hope the reader understands that by referring to him by his first name, it is, in this case, a sign of respect and fraternal affection. Where We Agree Tim says the SSPX confesses dogmas that a great many bishops will not confess. He says the Society defended the right of every Catholic to the Ancient Rite when almost nobody else would. He says that all of us owe a debt to Archbishop Lefebvre for his defence of the Kingship of Christ. He says the Society’s guardianship of the Deposit of Faith and the liturgy is its strength, and that the whole Church should be grateful for it. He says the excommunications of 1988 were disproportionate and did harm. I agree. I would strengthen the claim about the 1988 affair and add that the excommunications were unjust and invalid when considered in light of Canon Law as it should be understood with the canonical tradition. Also, I tend to agree with a lot of what he says about the topic of the Lay Nobility, as far as it goes, and he makes a number of interesting points about how Catholics used to act in the past. I believe Tim’s greatest strength is his command of Catholic history, and he demonstrates his deep knowledge of Catholic history in the article. The piece is offered as thirty-seven theses. It accuses the Society of an error against the Church’s teaching on sacramental grace, of a position that “seems schismatic,” of spiritual abuse, and other things. The charges are serious, so we will assess the charges seriously, and to do so we must put our feelings aside and be objective, even if the response seems severe. Mere Tradition with Kennedy Hall is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. There is no thesis in the Theses Tim presents the article as a Thesis, hence the numbering of the assertions. A Thesis is a form of argumentation wherein the thing itself is offered for disputation. For that to be possible, it must make sense as a whole, and each assertion must be defensible on its own, while also building on the statement that came before. It is a perennial method, and figures like Thomas Aquinas give us the best examples. Now, when examined, we find that Tim’s Thesis is not really a Thesis, but is instead a collection of assertions that argue different points, some of which build on the previous points, and some of which can be completely stricken from the piece and change nothing about the argument as a whole. The comment in number twelve about Pico della Mirandola at Lateran V can be deleted, and it has no bearing on his comments on the SSPX. Number twenty-one can be deleted — where he speaks about dioceses reporting criminal priests — and changes nothing. Fifteen can be deleted — wherein he speaks of Rome becoming the seat of the Antichrist — and we have the same result. The numbering of the assertions is helpful as far as it goes, but the order of most of the assertions is arbitrary, even if there is a loose chronological timeline followed. Perhaps Tim sees this all making sense in his own mind, and perhaps he should write a lengthy treatise on how the issue of the Lay Nobility applies to the SSPX controversy, but whatever that argument could be, it is not evident that the two topics have much, if anything, to do with one another. Now, the numbering is consistent with the method of the scholastic form, but the presentation is not consistent with that method. At one point in the piece, Tim asserts that the SSPX demonstrates an imperfect imitation of true Scholasticism, but that is precisely what his piece does. Also, the piece is essentially two essays stapled together. Theses eleven through twenty-two argue that the exclusion of the lay nobility from Church governance is the root of the modern crisis. This is not proven or even argued throughout, but merely asserted. I will have to disagree with him and go with Pope Saint Pius X, who, after receiving a magnificent corpus of work from his predecessors, distilled for us the true root of the Crisis, which is Modernism. Again, perhaps there are causal links in Tim’s mind, but they are not demonstrated. As I said earlier, I believe Tim’s greatest strength is as a historian, but a historian does not a theologian or philosopher make. Theses twenty-three through thirty-four argue that the SSPX errs about sacramental grace, among other accusations. Neither half needs the other. The first half could be removed, and nothing would change in the second, and vice versa. No premise in the one does any work in the other. The Humility Provisos Don’t Match the Content Tim opens by quoting St. John Climacus: “the man whose desire in conversation is to establish his own opinion — even though what he says is true — is sick with the devil’s disease.” This is a great quote, but it is not a teaching of the Church. What I mean is that, in the opinion of this particular saint, and in the context it is uttered, I am sure it is a very useful maxim to live by. Certainly, in our personal lives, it is a good thing to keep our mouths shut, even if we know the other person is wrong. Nevertheless, the Bible tells us, “But sanctify the Lord Christ in your hearts, being ready always to satisfy every one that asketh you a reason of that hope which is in you,” (1 Peter 3:15). Of course, it would be absurd to argue that following Saint Peter’s instruction would make us sick with the Devil’s disease. Imagine a scenario wherein an atheist challenges you on your beliefs, and you respond to what he has said with the truth. You would not be sick with the Devil’s disease for establishing your opinion — the true opinion — in that conversation. And Tim gives us this maxim immediately before trying to establish his opinion over dozens of short paragraphs. I do not believe Tim is sick with the Devil’s disease — I just believe he is using a useful quote for personal spiritual growth in the wrong context. If that quote were a maxim applicable in a general sense, then the entire paradigm of Catholic apologetics and preaching would have to cease, which would be absurd. Tim begins with that disclaimer, and ends the piece with another disclaimer about how his opinion is worthless, and in between the two we find: an accusation of doctrinal error against a religious society, a charge of schism, a charge of spiritual abuse, a call for public recantation, a verdict that a beatified pope broke with Tradition, a verdict that a canonized pope broke with it twice, the claim that the papacy has been corrupted by Freemasonry since 1773, the claim that Rome became the seat of Antichrist in 1870, and two flat declarations about why God punished Christendom. Again, I do not doubt Tim’s sincerity or question his motives; nevertheless, I do believe the humility disclaimers function as a sort of defence mechanism: if Tim is challenged, the response can be, “my opinions are worthless anyway,” and if Tim’s words are not challenged, then they stand as severe assertions and accusations on their own. If Tim truly believed his opinions were worthless, then he would not have spent so much time trying to argue them. There is a related problem with his second assertion, which is consequential for the rest of the piece. The lay nobility, he says, may not adjudicate quaestiones disputatae; it may only recognize dogmas. Very well. Nonetheless, Tim then proceeds to adjudicate a number of disputed questions. At thesis twenty-six he writes: “It is beyond the competence of the lay nobility to dispute about a responsum from the Holy Office.” However, while there is truth to this statement, it does not apply to the context wherein we find the statement. The effect is that the reader is dismayed from disagreeing with Tim’s adjudication, but his use of the Holy Office responses — which are not cited or presented — is incorrect, as will be seen below. In essence, the rule binds the reader but not the author. This is not acceptable practice for a Thesis. Thesis twenty-six is structurally vital for his accusations about the SSPX. Theses thirty-three and thirty-four depend on it explicitly. Here is twenty-six: “They [SSPX] erroneously assert that a doubtful faith in a priest creates a doubtful intention for the validity of the Sacrament. This opinion has been explicitly excluded in
