Heart of the World, Center of the Church: Communio Ecclesiology, Liberalism, and Liberation. By David L. Schindler. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1996. Pp. 357. $37.59 (cloth). ISBN 0-8028-3809-X.

Although the entire first part of the book, and the tone of the book in general, is primarily concerned with issues as they appear in an American context, the significance of the book is not limited to this continent. Indeed, after the collapse of the Communist regimes, many countries in Eastern Europe have embraced enthusiastically the promises of market capitalism. Some theologians in Poland, notably, have adopted many of the ideas put forth by Michael Novak and see in liberal capitalism the opportunity to move beyond clericalism. For Schindler, this merely changes one form of dualism for another.

After showing the deficiencies of various ecclesiologies (integralist, liberationist, and dualist), Schindler turns to a communio theology, with its proper Trinitarian and Christological emphases, in order to ground the Church-world relation. The Church is intrinsically turned to the world as the continuation of the incarnational mission of Jesus Christ. Its mission is therefore essentially tied to its self-understanding that it exists within the communion between Christ and the Father.

Schindler questions a central claim of liberalism, namely, the theological-philosophical neutrality of its institutions, which allows them to come to terms with Catholicism. He shows that all forms of professed neutrality, on the part of liberalism, already carry some stand towards key theological issues and that this stand is contrary or at least inimical to basic Catholic doctrine. Upon critical examination, the various areas where liberalism claims an "empty" or "neutral" stance reveal a specific, although often hidden, philosophical and theological position, "a definite sense of the primacy of human agency or 'construction' in the self's affective-volitional and cognitive relations with God and others (however inconsistent this may be with the claim of neutrality)" (xiv). Hence the characterization of liberalism as "finesse" (33) or "con game" (44, 87).

This critique is not aimed so much at the achievements of those who have contributed to mediate Catholic thought to American liberal institutions as rather at the "logic" of their positions which is often unintended but which carries a problematic tension toward the Christian faith in light of communio ecclesiology. The disproportionate emphasis on the self and its action is inconsistent with the notion of person and the person's mission in the world, derived from communio ecclesiology. Stated positively: "the trinitarian communio, present in the sacramental communio, reveals the meaning of all being in its full integrity, and thereby reveals as well the inner logic and dynamic of the Christian presence in the world" (xvi). Borrowing a phrase from John Paul II's address to the Argentine bishops, Schindler says that the Church is called to be forma mundi.

In the political and cultural arena, the debate is with John Courtney Murray, the inspirational force behind Vatican II's Declaration on Religious Freedom, over whether the discussion with the First Amendment concerns articles of peace or articles of faith. Schindler argues that Murray's notion of religious freedom as immunity from coercion (i.e., articles of peace) is not empty of religious theory. In giving logical priority to a notion of freedom defined negatively, it precludes the priority of a positive notion of freedom for a relation with God. Religion is then something "added on," and thus privatized. There is here a fundamental ambiguity that calls for clarification on the part of proponents of liberalism.

In economics, the conversation picks up a long-standing debate Schindler has conducted with three representatives of neoconservative liberalism: George Weigel, Richard John Neuhaus, and Michael Novak. Here again, the argument is whether market capitalism is indeed "empty" of moral or doctrinal content and therefore able to be embraced by Catholicism. The central point concerns human freedom and capitalism's emphasis on enterprise, inventiveness, and responsibility. Without denying the importance of human freedom and action, Schindler questions the implied priority of "doing" over "being." Thus, "liberalism of any stripe--including the liberalism of 'open' capitalism--remains unacceptable insofar as its freedom remains conceived as primarily creative--or rather, insofar as its creativity is not conceived as anteriorly receptive" (119). Created being, as derived from the notion of communio, involves an emphasis on I "am" prior to I "do," a priority of "being" over "doing" or "having" (see 103). The neoconservative view leaves no room for the centrality of the Marian fiat which is decisive for an understanding of creaturely being and action (and their proper relation) in a theology of communio. More importantly, the stakes here concern the interpretation of John Paul II's social teaching, which neoconservatives have claimed as an authority, particularly in relation to the human creation as image of God. In the neoconservative view, human agency images the creativity of the Father. A communio perspective will insist that human agency images the creativity of Father only in the receptivity of the Son, presupposing this prior receptivity. Schindler convincingly shows that the neoconservative reading of John Paul II's Centensimus Annus, with its emphasis on an ethics of "realism" oriented to success, ignores the Pope's strong Christological (and thus Trinitarian) basis.

The third foray into liberalism deals with the academy and its commitment to neutrality, whose very proposal of an "empty" forum precludes the entry of authentic Catholicism. The question is whether a Catholic university ought to adopt uncritically the standards of secular universities. For Schindler, critical methods and scholarship in the secular university "do not embody a pure rationality" (145), which seems to be the assumption of Fr. Theodore Hesburgh. Schindler questions this assumption and, here and in a later chapter on "Sanctity and the Intellectual Life," sketches the requirements of a Catholic mind, that is "the implications for the mind of the call to holiness" (149). The Cartesian roots of today's academy are examined, uncovered, and are shown to hide a mechanistic separation of subject and object. As an alternative, the author calls for an a priori where the analogical convertibility of logic or order and love is operative. In short, Christian faith in light of communio requires that "love is the truest and deepest meaning of both the methods and contents of all disciplines" (169-70). The mere fact of anticipation of substantive meaning is no different from liberalism's anticipation of mechanism or subjectivism. The integrity of individual disciplines is preserved and the charge of revelational positivism is avoided through an appeal to the notion of analogy.

The second half of the book develops some of the implications of communio and shows that an emphasis on love, espousal, and receptivity includes the intellectual life. Two chapters in particular stand out: "Catholic Theology, Gender, and the Future of Western Civilization" and "'Thomism' and the Human Person: The Question of Receptivity and the Philosophy-Theology Distinction." The first is notable for its ontological discourse on the issue of gender: "Created being as a whole is 'feminine' with respect to God. The first act of created being, in other words, is receptive. What the creature first 'does' is receive its be-ing (being): what it first 'does' is 'be'" (256). The second, which is also the last chapter of the book, tackles the notion of person which underlies much of the debate with liberalism. Once again, Schindler's point of view is resolutely ontological and flows from the implications of a communio ecclesiology. In the revelation of the concrete Trinitarian God in the incarnation of Jesus Christ, being receives its meaning from love. This suggests that receptivity, far from being an imperfection, something to be overcome through an autonomous project of self-construction, is in fact a perfection. In fact, it is through receptivity, as "sons in the Son," that we participate in the creativity of the Father. This leads to a recognition of the priority of being over doing in anthropology. In other words, we cannot generate unless we are generated. This provides the thematic unity to the whole book.

The aim of the book is not to present an ecclesiology based on the idea of communio in a systematic and exhaustive manner. Clearly, such a book would also be useful. After the present book, which in many ways whets our appetite, the desire for such treatment is all the greater. Throughout the book, the teaching of Vatican II is seen in the light of the interpretation given by John Paul II and Hans Urs von Balthasar (along with Joseph Ratzinger and Henri de Lubac). That such an interpretation is here privileged, admits the author, is "hardly uncontroversial," but "it will suffice for the present study to offer a communio ecclesiology on the grounds of its intrinsic explanatory power, relative to the Church-world relation that is so central to the Council" (30, n. 48).

The dominant influence and inspiration for Schindler is clearly found in the theology of Hans Urs von Balthasar. Yet, just as clearly, this is not a book about Balthasar. The Swiss theologian is often perceived, rightly or wrongly, as being hermetic. Schindler brings some of Balthasar's key ideas into the public debate and effectively shows their creative power. This is very useful and helpful. In doing so, he also confirms that the context of post-Vatican II Catholicism is far more complex than a discussion between left and right, progressive and conservative.

This last point also addresses the issue of whether Schindler has not fallen into another form of integralism. The relation of Church to world that is here put forward is not based on coercion but on the form of love; this makes all the difference. Schindler's starting point, while it disavows the so-called neutrality of liberalism, has its own theological a priori. Yet, this is not a case of theological positivism. Following Balthasar in his important dialogue with Barth, Schindler describes his position as being based on the analogy of being (see Balthasar's The Theology of Karl Barth), and developed through an analogy of love. He can thus break the logjam of the alternative between the so-called neutrality of liberalism, which in effect leads to philosophical atheism, and theological or revelational positivism.

Concordia University

Montreal, Quebec, Canada