Richard W. Thompson - The Footprints of the Jesuits

When Loyola obtained the approval of his society from Paul III, he undoubtedly accomplished a great triumph—greater than any he had previously known. It gave him the opportunity of foreseeing that, whensoever thereafter it should be demanded by his own or the interests of the society, he would have it in his power, with a servile host at his command, to create a factious rivalry to the papacy itself. It may be supposed that the pope acted with reference to what he regarded as the welfare of the Church, and under a due sense of his own responsibility; but Loyola experienced no such feeling. Backed by a mere handful of zealots, who were unable to withstand his importunities, and from whom he probably concealed his ulterior designs, he concentrated all his energies upon the single object of obtaining the centralization of power in his own hands, without troubling himself to inquire at whose expense it might be accomplished, or the means to be employed. The pope had his own character as the head of the Church to maintain, while Loyola was a mere "soldier of fortune," seeking adventure, and stimulated by personal ambition to acquire both power and fame by means of an organization with which the pope was not familiar, but which he had constructed in secret, so as to make possible any form of disguise or dissimulation necessary to accomplish his desired ends. It would be unfair to assert, in the absence of explicit proof, that the pope acted otherwise than with reference primarily to the interests of the Church, whilst at the same time he manifestly did not desire to weaken the papal—that is, his own—power. Although he ordered the assembling of what afterwards became the Council of Trent, he was not distinguished as a reforming pope, inasmuch as he was understood to have been constrained to this act to counteract the imperial policy of Charles V, who had threatened a National Council in his own dominions. Yet it is possible that some reforms might have been introduced to which he would have given his assent, provided they had not lessened the authority of the papacy. Loyola was not influenced by any of these motives. He attributed the corruptions of the clergy and the disturbed condition of the Church to the imbecility of the popes, and their inability to contend successfully against the impending evils. And thus influenced, he evidently hoped to put in operation, through the agency of his new society, such instrumentalities as would counteract the existing evils in a manner that would assure the glory of the achievement to himself and his society. He doubtless desired in this way to obtain such fame as would overshadow the papacy itself. Of the contemptuous disregard and defiance of popes who have opposed Jesuit pretensions, we shall hereafter see many and convincing proofs.

It should not be forgotten, in this connection, that the infallibility of the pope was not, at that time, an accepted part of the faith of the Church. The effort to make it so would, if then made, have been fruitless, in view of the recent pontificates of John XXIII, and Julius II, and Alexander VI, and the decrees of the Councils of Constance and Basel, as well as the general sentiment of the Christian world. Although there were some in the Church who maintained this doctrine, yet it was far from being approved by the multitude, and never actually became part of the faith until within our own time, when it was dictated to the Council of the Vatican at Rome by Pius IX, and forced to a final decree without free discussion. Mr. Gladstone has given a list of heretical popes before the time of Loyola, none of whom could have been infallible, unless infallibility and heresy may mingle harmoniously together in the same mind at the same time. Gregory I regarded the claim of universality—a necessary incident to infallibility—as "blasphemous, anti-Christian, and devilish." Even Innocent III admitted that a pope could "sin against the faith, and thus become subject to the judgment of the Church." Hadrian VI declared that a pope could err in matters of faith. Zephyrinus and Callistus both taught heresy in maintaining "that God the Father became incarnate, and suffered with the Son." Liberius subscribed an Arian creed, the most noted of all heresies, and condemned the orthodox Athanasius. Felix II was an Arian, and yet has been placed upon the calendar of saints. Zosimus indorsed the heresy of Pelagianism. Vigilius was upon both sides of the controversy about the Three Chapters. John XXII condemned Nicholas III and Clement V as heretics. Honorius was condemned and excommunicated for heresy by a General Council at Constantinople. Consequently, Mr. Gladstone, whose great learning and wisdom is recognized by all, felt himself warranted in affirming that "the popes themselves, therefore, for more than three centuries, publicly recognized, first, that an Ecumenical Council may condemn a pope for open heresy; and, secondly, that Pope Honorius was justly condemned for heresy."36

The contest in England about "Catholic Emancipation," covered a period of more than a quarter of a century after the ill-fated union by which Ireland gave up her independence. It terminated so near the present time that there are some yet living who may remember the rejoicing it occasioned among the friends of Ireland. It involved a practical political question, although it had a semi-religious aspect. Upon the part of Ireland it was insisted that, as the Irish were recognized by the British Constitution as subjects of the United Kingdom, they were entitled to hold civil office and participate in the legislation of Parliament. This was for a long time successfully resisted by the English Government and people upon the ground that, by the religion which the Irish professed, the pope was held to be infallible, and, consequently, as possessing the spiritual power to interfere with the temporal affairs and policy of Great Britain. As it had been always understood among European peoples that this was the legitimate consequence of that doctrine, it became absolutely necessary to the Irish cause to show that the religion which prevailed in Ireland did not include it; in other words, that the Irish people did not believe the pope to be infallible. In proof of this, it was insisted by the Irish hierarchy, with unusual earnestness, that the three leading universities in France, and three not less distinguished in Spain, had condemned and repudiated that doctrine, and that the Irish people accepted their opinions. In addition, several Irish bishops were examined before a committee of the House of Commons, and testified to the same effect. This turned the scale in favor of "Irish Emancipation," and the controversy ended by the passage of that measure by both Houses of Parliament.

There is nothing, therefore, to show, or tending to show, that Loyola considered Paul III, or any other pope, to be infallible. On the contrary, inasmuch as that doctrine was not a part of the faith of the Church, and he was not required to believe it, it is a fair inference, from all we can now learn of their intercourse, that he regarded the pope as fallible, and, consequently, wedded to a false and erroneous system of Church government, which had been attended with mischievous results, and for which he desired to substitute a better and more efficient system of his own, under his own direction. And all the contemporary facts combine to show that he intended, by the original Jesuit Constitution, to bring the pope, and through him the Church, to the point of recognizing him and his successors as infallible, because they were declared to stand in the place of Christ, and were to be obeyed accordingly. Whatsoever benefits he proposed to confer upon the Church, were intended by him to be consequential alone upon those he designed for himself and his society.

The amendment of the original constitution, so as to require fidelity to the pope, was simply a measure of policy and expediency on the part of Loyola, having been suggested to him, as we have seen, after he reached Rome and discovered that it was the only method of removing the scruples of the pope, and obtaining the approval of his new society. Interpreted, therefore, in the light of all the facts, this amendment amounts only and simply to a recognition of the pope as the head of the Church, but not infallible, because that was not then part of the faith of the Church. At the same time, however, Loyola was sagacious enough to provide in the body of the constitution for the infallibility of the general of his society by declaring him as equal to God, and as occupying the place and exercising the authority of Christ. He expected the pope to recognize this by his act of approving the original constitution and establishing the society as a religious order, in imitation of the ancient monastic orders. Whether the pope so understood the constitution or not, can not now be decided; but it is perfectly apparent that Loyola did, as is evidenced by the fact that the vow of each member pledged him to this belief as one of the absolutely controlling principles of the organization. But Loyola made a more conspicuous exhibition of his sagacity by providing, in the secret but practical working of the society, a loophole of escape from the pledge of obedience to the pope whensoever the general deemed this expedient, as, in the sequel, it will appear he frequently did. It is well to repeat here, for illustration, that the pope was not permitted to hold immediate or direct intercourse with the individual members of the society. He was required to regard them only as a company whose members had no power over themselves, and were expressly prohibited from setting up any individual claim to independent thought or action. The pope could consequently convey his desires, or opinions, or commands to the society only through their general; that is, in Loyola's view, as well as in that of the society, the fallible head of the Church could make known his wishes to the infallible head of the society! If the latter occupied the place of God and pronounced his judgments—as the members declared by their vows, and the constitution asserts—then any violation of his commands upon their part was not only heresy within the society, but punishable by the general, no matter what the pope might do or say. The infallible head of the Jesuits became, consequently, in the estimation of the society, superior to the fallible head of the Church in everything that concerned the opinions, sentiments, or action of the members. A man would almost stultify himself who should argue that, in case of conflict between the pope and the general—which has frequently occurred—the society would hesitate about obeying the general and disobeying the pope.