As we approach the so-called Synod on Synodality in Rome (4th-29th of October, 2023), I would like to offer a modest suggestion as to how we might survive it. The firestorm surrounding this global gathering threatens not only to aggrieve faithful Catholics further, who have borne the brunt of Pope Francis’s innumerable figaries, but it has the real potential to end in schism. The latest decree from the Papal guesthouse is that there will be a media blackout on discussions inside the synod. Excellent news! After all, who could bear the hourly updates on why the Synod fathers and mothers desire the Church to be centred on synodality rather than salvation, or why science has disproved St. Paul’s teachings on sexuality—despite the fact that, as he writes in Galatians, he received them “through a revelation of Jesus Christ.”
That we are in such a tragic predicament should, however, come as no surprise to those who took note of the Pope’s refusal to wear the papal mozzetta and stole on the night of his election in 2013. Such seemingly humble gestures signalled that this was to be a papacy of radical reform of everything from the Petrine Office to the Gospel itself. The good news is, however, that despite Francis’s rush to consolidate his legacy, there is nothing in that legacy that cannot be undone by a future pontiff.
Put simply, nothing is set in stone except the Gospel of Jesus Christ. No matter how much they seek to water down the shocking message of salvation, it is a truth that cannot be changed, or revised, or diluted to facilitate contemporary taste. Indeed, they say the Synod is primarily to discuss new ways of evangelisation. But why do you need new ways to evangelise when you have the Gospel? Christ did not tell us to make an accommodation with the world, but to “Go into all the world and proclaim the gospel to the whole creation.” He further declared: “Whoever believes and is baptised will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned.” No ambiguity there! And yet this is something the Church rarely proclaims. Neither does it boldly preach the great promise of Christ to all believers, a promise with which he concludes the Gospel of Mark: “And these signs shall accompany those who believe: in my name they shall cast out demons; they shall speak in new tongues; they shall pick up serpents with their hands; and if they drink any deadly poison, it will not hurt them; they will lay hands on the sick, and they will recover.”
When was the last time you witnessed the average Catholic casting out demons or even laying hands on the sick? Charismatics and Pentecostals routinely do these things, and they see astonishing results. The reason is simple: they thoroughly know and understand the Gospel. They know what Paul meant when he prayed: “Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all we can ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the Church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever.” This “power at work within us” is, as Paul writes to the Church in Rome, the same “Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead.” This is the remarkable news of the Gospel:
For in him [Christ] the whole fulness of deity dwells bodily, and you have been filled in him … And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with him, having forgiven us all our trespasses, by cancelling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross.
Let me state it frankly: the Catholic Church has a problem with evangelisation because it does not teach the full wonder of the Gospel of salvation. I have met countless Catholics who have never read the Pauline epistles, except, that is, for the snippets they are fed at Mass—snippets that are relegated to the status of a “Second Reading.” Consequently, they have never fully grasped the true import of the Gospel, which is, as Paul declares, that Christ “has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.” In other words, we, “who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil things, he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy, blameless and above reproach before him.” The glory of Christ is that he came to crucify our old Adamic nature, and to raise us up as “children of God and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs of Christ.”
That is the radical essence of the Gospel, and it alone has the power to evangelise anyone, anywhere. Water it down, however, and you will drain it of its good and glorious news. Neither can you adapt it to the world. Indeed, Paul had similar problems with the early Church, as revealed in his encounters with Peter in Galatians. He writes, “I went up to Jerusalem to visit Cephas [Peter] and remained with him for fifteen days.” Fourteen years later, Paul returned to Jerusalem and was endorsed in his mission by Peter, James, and John. But then, when Peter visited Antioch, Paul “opposed him to his face, because he stood condemned.”
According to Paul, Peter was happy to eat with Gentiles before the arrival of “certain men” who came from the apostle James. However, “when they came, he drew back and separated himself, fearing the circumcision party. And the rest of the Jews acted hypocritically along with him.” Seeing that this “conduct was not in step with the truth of the Gospel,” Paul publicly confronted Peter by saying: “If you, though a Jew, live like a Gentile and not like a Jew, how can you force the Gentiles to live like Jews?” In this, we see what must be done if Peter’s conduct is “not in step with the truth of the Gospel.” As such, it doesn’t matter what measures his Praetorian Guard take to shield the Pope from criticism. If his conduct contravenes the truth of the Gospel, he must be opposed to his face.
Still, there is absolutely no point in us sniping from the sidelines. A far better response would be to follow Paul who, immediately after reporting on his confrontation with Peter, returns to proclaiming the Gospel. And he does so with what is perhaps his most magnificent proclamation:
For through the law I died to the law, so that I might live to God. I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”
In those sacred lines, we have revealed the full truth of what happened to all baptised believers through the death, burial, and resurrection of the Saviour. In them, we have revealed the great glory of the Gospel—a message with which Paul successfully evangelised much of the Gentile world.
That is why, rather than obsessing about what is happening behind closed doors at the Synod, Catholics ought to supplement their times of worship and prayer with a close reading of the Pauline epistles, as well as those of John and Peter, and, of course, the wonderful Letter to the Hebrews, in which we are exhorted to keep “looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith.” When our eyes drift from Jesus, we lose sight of the one thing that matters. Hence, Paul’s severe rebuke to the Galatians:
I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting him who called you into the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel—not that there is another one, but there are some who trouble you and want to distort the gospel of Christ. But even if we or an angel of from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed.
That passage should be mandatory reading for all those attending the Synod, but it should also prompt us to ask what precisely is this gospel that Paul says he “received through a revelation of Jesus Christ.” For that, and that alone, is the key to successful evangelisation, repentance, and conversion.
The sad fact is that the Church has lost faith in the Gospel. That is why it seeks to promote a new gospel of inclusion, equality, and environmentalism. But to lose faith in the Gospel means that you have not sufficiently understood it, and thus you have not really grasped its full wonder. As Paul exultantly exclaims: “If I am out of my mind, it is for God; if I am in my right mind, it is for you.” We, too, need to be out of our minds for God. We, too, need to embrace the marvellous truth that “if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. Old things have passed away; behold, all things have been made new!” If, as it should be, that were the Church’s proclamation for the new millennium, there would be no need for synods on synodality. Rather, we would recognise that, as Paul puts it, “we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us.”
The best way to survive the synod is simply to ignore it. Turn instead towards the “founder and perfecter of our faith,” towards His Gospel of salvation in which, as Paul proclaims, “we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure and the stature of the fulness of Christ.” In so doing, you will quickly realise why Paul counted all things as rubbish “in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ.”
In so doing, you realise why, when you lose sight of the true Gospel, it is so easy to become “severed from Christ.” So easy to “seek the approval of man” over that of God.
