ESSAY
X
THE FALL OF MAN AND ORIGINAL SIN
by
Rev.
B. V. Miller
I.
ADAM BEFORE THE FALL
THE study of the dogma of the fall of man and its
corollary, original sin, is interesting from many points of view. If we
look at its first beginnings at the dawn of human history, and its echoes
or analogies or counterparts, whichever they be, that we found in the
traditions, myths, and legends of many ancient peoples, we are led into a
vast field of research in which, of late years, many scholars of eminence
have busies themselves, and where, only too often, imagination and the
desire to justify preconceived theories have taken the place of argument
and sound reasoning upon sure evidence.
If we confine our attention
to the course of the dogma within the Church, we are introduced to some of
the greatest names in the Church’s story, and to some of the movements and
controversies that have cut the deepest traces across her history. The
Pelagians, in the fifth century, struck at the very roots of the
supernatural life and religion, but though their fundamental heresy was
concerned with grace, their denial of original sin, which of necessity
followed, became one of the pivotal points around which controversy
ranged, and afforded the Catholic champion, St. Augustine, matter for much
thought and many writings.
In the sixteenth century the Protestant
religious leaders did not, indeed, deny the doctrine of original sin ─
many of them, in fact, exaggerated it; but while they kept the sound form
of words, they understood them in a new way, and the nature of their
doctrinal content was altered and degraded. Since then the process of
disintegration has been carried to its logical end, especially of late
years, under the influence of the theory of evolution. This, in its
extreme form, necessitates the biblical story of Adam and Eve being looked
upon as a myth, or at best, as a piece of mere folk-lore, enshrining some
spiritual truths. Consequently, while many Protestants deny the doctrine
of the fall altogether, others, less bold, less logical, but more
ingenious, retain the old phraseology, but interpret it in the sense of a
lapse or a series of lapses in primitive and brutelike man’s struggle
towards higher things. We have even been told, in all seriousness, that
the fall was a “fall upwards.” Original sin, then, becomes nothing but
the deep impress of man’s animal nature upon his slowly dawning spiritual
consciousness.
To meet these adversaries is the
apologist’s task, not ours. Our aim is much more modest. We have to take
for granted the Church’s authority and her interpretation of the sacred
Scriptures given into her care. Upon this sure foundation we have simply
to build an edifice of doctrinal exposition and explanation, setting in
view what the Church means by and teaches in the dogma of the fall and
original sin, and gathering together and explaining, as best we can, its
various theological consequences and implications. The task is not
without its difficulties; it should not be without some interest to those
who have an appreciation of the things of faith, and it may have some
small apologetic value as showing the utter reasonableness of the Catholic
teaching, both in itself and in its close relations with other fundamental
articles of Catholic belief.
To understand man’s fall we must know
whence he fell and what his condition was before he fell.
1.
Tradition of a golden age
The tradition of a golden age at the beginning of
man’s history is widespread; recent investigations have shown it to be
almost universal among the races, nations, and tribes of men throughout
the world. The existence of this tradition might, perhaps, be taken as
evidence in favor of the Christian belief in man’s original state of
innocence and happiness, since the trend of historical research is to show
that there is always some foundation of fact for ancient, deep-rooted, and
widespread traditions. But even if we allow the fullest possible weight
to this piece of evidence, it amounts to very little, for the tradition,
varying from race to race and tribe to tribe, is so much overgrown and
corrupted by fable, myth, and legend that the core of truth, even if it
could be with certainty discovered and determined, would be too slight and
vague to be of any real use.
2.
The scriptural narrative
We have, however, a surer and purer source of
information. Just as the story of the creation told in the Hebrew sacred
writings is far superior in its noble purity and religious simplicity to
the complicated and often immoral myths and legends preserved in the books
of other ancient peoples, so likewise does the biblical account of the
primitive happiness of the first man and woman surpass all the legends of
a golden age which the traditions and folk-lore of other nations have
handed down to us.
It is not for us to vindicate the
historical character of this narrative against the view, so widely
prevalent outside the Church, that it is imply another, even if a
superior, piece of ancient folk-lore. As to the method of interpretation,
something has been said in Essay VI, God the Creator. Here we need
only note the decision given by the Biblical Commission in 1909 when
deciding certain questions about the historical character of the first
three chapters of Genesis. The third question was “whether in particular
the literal, historical character can be called in question when things
are narrated touching the foundations of the Christian religion, such as
among others . . . the original happiness of our first parents in a state
of justice, integrity, and immortality; the command laid upon man by God
to test his obedience; the transgression of the divine command through the
persuasion of the devil under the appearance of a serpent; the fall of our
first parents from that primitive state of innocence; and the promise of a
future Redeemer?” The answer is in the negative.
3.
Original state of first parents
It is therefore to this inspired record, guaranteed
by the Church’s authority, and confirmed by many other parts of sacred
Scripture, that we go as our principal source of information for all that
concerns man’s state when first God had breathed into him the breath of
life. This decree of the Biblical Commission says that, according to the
literal, historical sense of the record in Genesis, our first parents
before their fall were endowed with the three qualities of justice,
integrity, and immortality. What these were and how exactly they are to
be understood we must now examine.
4.
Supernatural grace
We need not here, however, say much about the first,
though it is quite the most important, for it is fully explained in other
essays. It is only necessary to note that the word justice, as here used,
means first and principally the supernatural gift of sanctifying grace,
which raised Adam to a higher state and nobler dignity, which put him into
a relationship of real friendship with God in this life, and gave him the
pledge of eternal happiness in the closest union with him in the next.
But of the other two qualities mentioned
we must speak at greater length. These, immortality and integrity, are
called preternatural gifts. This term is used to show that, although
these qualities did not belong to Adam by virtue of his human nature, and
were no part of that bodily and mental equipment necessary to his being
and life as man, and although, therefore, they were bestowed upon him of
God’s sheer benevolence, as something over and above his purely human
faculties and capacities, yet they did not put him, as grace did, into a
different and altogether higher order of existence. They gave him
additional and greater perfection without raising him above the purely
human level.
5.
Immortality
We take first the gift of immortality. “And he (God)
commanded him, saying: Of every tree of paradise thou shalt eat: but of
the tree of knowledge of good and evil thou shalt not eat. For in what
days soever thou shalt eat of it, thou shalt die the death” (Gen.
ii 16-17). Then in the next chapter, after Adam had eaten of the
forbidden tree, God lays upon him the punishment of his sin, a life of
hard toil to be ended by death; “for dust thou art and into dust thou
shalt return” (Gen. iii 19). Whence it is clear that death was
positively the penalty of Adam’s sin, and that if he had not sinned he
would not have had to die. He was made to be immortal. This was the
traditional belief of the Jews. As a modern writer well puts it: “This
penal sense of death colors all that the Old Testament says of man’s end.
It is in its thoughts where it is not in its words. It is the background
of pathetic passages in which the immediate subject in the misery or the
transiency of life, rather than death itself. It gives to the thought of
death, as it is expressed, for example, in the grave’s rapacity, which
recur in the Psalter and the Prophets, in Ecclesiastes and in Job, a
meaning and an elevation which such things have not in ethnic literatures,
the best of which know death only as a thing of nature, and know it not in
its relation to sin and the wrath of God” (Salmond, Christian Doctrine
of Immortatlity, p. 197).
St. Paul’s clear teaching on the matter,
in the epistle to the Romans, is well known to all, and, as we shall have
to deal with it later, his witness need not be quoted here. More than
once the Church has had occasion to define her faith upon this subject
against heretical errors, notably in the Council of Trent, where in Canon
I, Session V, they are condemned who deny that Adam by “the offense of
this prevarication incurred the wrath and indignation of God, and
therewith death, with which God had previously threatened him.” In other
words, had Adam not sinned he would not have died; made to be immortal, he
brought death upon himself as the punishment of his sin.
6.
Impassibility
Closely connected with this gift of immortality was
that of impassibility or freedom from pain and suffering. It is the
common teaching of theologians that Adam enjoyed this privilege, but it is
not a part of Catholic faith, for it has neither been defined by the
Church, nor is it explicitly taught in the sacred Scriptures. It is,
however, easily deduced from the sentence passed by God upon Adam and Eve
after they had sinned. In this matter all exaggeration must be avoided.
It is not necessary to suppose that Adam was wholly incapable of feeling
pain; the possession of impassibility simply means that he was secured
against all those pains and evils which are, directly and indirectly, the
consequence of sin, ignorance, and folly.
Theologians commonly also hold that Adam
was endowed with knowledge infused by God, and not acquired by the
exercise of his human faculties. Here also a warning against exaggeration
is not out of place, for some, indulging their love of ingenious
speculation, have credited him with possessing an all-embracing wisdom.
Scripture gives us no explicit information on this point, and the Church
has decided nothing. But from general principles it may be safely
concluded that, at the moment of Adam’s creation, God infused into his
mind the knowledge which, though he had had no chance of acquiring it for
himself, was necessary to enable him to lead a properly ordered human
life. More than this it would, perhaps, be unwise to assert. Undoubtedly
also God endowed him with excellent mental faculties and powers of
observation, by which he would be able to equip himself quickly with all
necessary and convenient knowledge.
7.
Integrity
The other preternatural quality mentioned in the
Biblical Commission’s decree as belonging to Adam before his fall is of
even greater importance than the gift of immortality. Theologically it is
called integrity, which, first and foremost, consists in the total absence
of concupiscence. In modern English concupiscence is generally understood
as applying only to fleshly desire; it is usually restricted to that field
wherein it is most violent. But in theological language the word is of
much wider application. It indicates any and every motion or impulse of
the lower, the sensitive and imaginative, faculties or appetites of man’s
nature that is not under the perfect rule and dominion of his higher
faculties, reason and will. All our faculties and appetites, even the
lowest, are from God and are good in themselves. They tend naturally to
find satisfaction in their appropriate acts, and this tendency in itself
is good. Above all man’s sensitive faculties stand his reason and will,
his noblest natural endowments, which should govern and direct all his
actions if he is to live rightly and worthily as a man. In the possession
of these lies essentially his human dignity, by these he is raised
immeasurably above all the lower animals. As his highest faculties they
have the natural right of dominion over the lower elements of his nature.
Experience, however, proves that this dominion is by no means absolute.
Our sensitive and imaginative faculties are so quickly and so strongly
excited to action that, even when they do not overcome the rational will
and lead it captive, as too often happens, they can be dominated and
regulated by it only with much effort and often painful striving. “For I
do not that good which I will, but the evil which I hate, that I do. . .
. For to will is present with me, but to accomplish that which is good, I
find not. For the good which I will, I do not; but the evil which I will
not, that I do. . . . I find then a law, that when I have a will to do
good, evil is present with me. For I am delighted with the law of God
according to the inward man; but I see another law in my members, fighting
against the law of my mind, and captivating me in the law of sin that is
in my members” (Rom. vii 15-23).
This unhappy state so vividly pictures by
St. Paul is called the state of concupiscence. Every impulse of man’s
lower nature not in accord with the dictates of his reason and the urge of
his will is a manifestation of concupiscence; it is a proof of the
two-sidedness of his nature not yet brought into a perfect oneness or
wholeness of activity ─ a proof, that is, of the absence of integrity.
Adam, before his sin, did not suffer from
concupiscence; he was gifted with integrity. Although this has not been
explicitly, in so many words, defined by the Church, the Council of Trent
clearly presupposes it when, in the fifth canon on original sin, it says
that concupiscence is sometimes called sin because it arises from sin and
inclines man to sin; whence it follows that before there was sin in Adam
there was no concupiscence in him.
This is very simply and delicately
expressed in the second chapter of Genesis. Eve, fresh from God’s
creative hand, is presented to Adam, “and they were both naked and were
not ashamed.” Shame arises when a person is overcome by an enemy whom he
ought to have conquered, or when the danger of defeat just escaped has
brought him a lively sense of his unworthy weakness. So the inspired
writer in noting that Adam and Eve were not ashamed, despite their
nakedness, wishes to indicate that they felt no undue, disordered impulse
of the strongest of sensitive appetites, that their reason and will held
such complete and easy rule that they felt no weakness and had not cause
for shame. But having sinned, as we read a little farther on, they at
once experienced the sense of shame, caused by the unruly urge of passion,
and covering their nakedness, tried thus to lessen the danger to which
they now felt themselves exposed.
To prevent misunderstanding, we may add
that, in exempting Adam from concupiscence, we by no means deny to him the
enjoyment of all the pleasures of sensitive life. St. Thomas (S. Theol.,
I, Q. 98, a. 2, ad 3), indeed, teaches that, in his state of innocence, he
enjoyed these even more than we do, since his natural faculties were purer
and therefore keener. But the whole of his sensitive life and activity
was in complete subject to the rule of his reason.
Such, then, was the condition of our
first parents when they came from the hand of God. They were in a state
of supernatural grace, they were free from all concupiscence, and they
were not subject to death. These three points belong to the deposit of
faith, guaranteed by the Church’s authority. Further, it is common
theological teaching, though not a part of Catholic faith, that they were
free from all pain and suffering, and possessed some measure impossible to
determine, of divinely given or infused knowledge.
About their material circumstances, their
culture and civilization, we know practically nothing. The Bible seems to
show that they led a life of great simplicity, God’s bounty supplying all
their needs with but little trouble on their part. But however
interesting this question may be to our human curiosity, it has no
theological importance. From this point of view all we need to know is
that they were capable of leading a really human life, however simple.
8.
Preternatural gifts
Now a question arises with a direct bearing upon the
doctrine, to be expounded later, of original sin. We have seen what
Adam’s condition was at the beginning of his life, but, although we have
spoken of his endowments as supernatural and preternatural, in so doing we
have been guilty, in reality, of begging the question, for we have not
determined whether these endowments did really and of right belong to him
as man, or were something given to him over and above his natural due.
The question is both important and delicate. Its importance, which will
become clearer as we proceed, lies in this that, if Adam’s endowments, as
already described, were natural, then, since by his sin he lost them both
for himself and for us, it will follow that man’s nature now is
intrinsically and essentially vitiated by being deprived of some elements
originally proper to it; it will therefore be in itself an evil thing.
This is, in fact, the position taken by many of the early Protestant
theologians, and later maintained by the Jansenists. If, on the other
hand, these endowments were something given to Adam over and above all
that went to make up his full manhood, then it follows that, in spite of
their loss, human nature remains complete, in essence unimpaired by
original sin, intrinsically whole and good in itself.
The delicacy of the problem lies in
determining with accuracy what is meant by the word natural, and by its
correlatives, supernatural and preternatural. Some little has already
been said, but more careful definition is now necessary. The word
natural has many meanings. It would be but a waste of time to enquire
into most of them. We shall confine ourselves to the strict theological
sense in which theologians use the word when treating of this present
question, and of all matters touching the doctrine of grace. And for the
sake of clearness and brevity we shall speak of man alone among all
creatures.
It is clear that man, to be man, to
answer to the idea of man eternal in God’s mind, must be made according to
a certain definite pattern. He must consist of body and soul, and must be
endowed with certain faculties, capacities, and powers. All these are his
natural constituent elements, properties, and possessions, and in their
sum make up a complete human nature. Further, to keep him in life and to
give due play to his powers many other things are necessary. He cannot
live without food and air, for example; these, therefore, though not a
part of his being, though external to him, are yet natural to him, a part
of his natural surroundings and requirements. Again, the powers that God
has given him as elements of his nature, especially his intellectual
powers, are of such vast stretch and grasp that, to provide them with
enough to work upon with some sort of satisfaction, a whole universe of
almost immeasurable immensity, complexity, beauty, ingenuity, intricacy,
harmony has been created by God for his dwelling-place and workshop. All
this created universe is man’s natural environment and in heritance, and
all that he can do with it and all his discoveries in it are his natural
achievements and attainments. So, to take an example, though countless
millions of men have lived full human lives without being able to fly,
flying is quite natural to man, since it has come about by the application
of his own innate powers to the material objects and forces of the created
world.
But by the exercise of these same powers
without any outside help he can rise still higher, staring above the
created world to the Creator himself. He can gain an extensive knowledge
of God and his nature and conceive for him a real love. That this is
possible to man’s unaided natural powers ─ at least, as regards the
knowledge of God ─ was defined by the Vatican Council.
Taking into consideration, therefore, all
these points, we conclude by defining as natural to man all that goes to
his making and being, all that is possible to his unaided powers, all that
is necessary for the due and sufficient satisfaction and activity of his
innate appetites and faculties. With this in mind we can answer the
question put above.
The truly supernatural character of grace
will be found fully explained elsewhere (cf. Essays ix, xvi and xvii).
Now it is enough to note that the Church teaches that, while God could
have left Adam with his own natural powers to work out his own natural end
by the unaided exercise of the powers, he did in fact destine him for an
end infinitely beyond the reach and exigencies of these powers left to
themselves. This end was an unending life of perfect happiness, produced
by immediate union with and direct sight of the very being of God, by the
beatific vision, as it is called in Catholic phraseology. And for the
preparation for and meriting of this supernatural end God gave Adam a new
nature and life, the supernature and supernatural life of sanctifying
grace. Beyond this we need not go, but shall confine our attention to the
gifts of immortality and integrity.
Adam’s immortality was, in reality, only
potential, not actual ─ that is, it was something that would have been
given to him if he had observed the condition accompanying God’s promise
of it, but of which he was deprived owing to his failure to observe them.
This is fairly clear from an attentive study of the second chapter of
Genesis, where it is explicitly stated that the fruit of one tree will
bring death, and implied that the result of eating of the other, when God
should allow it, would be unending life. Therefore, while death was truly
the penalty for Adam’s sin, it was a penalty that consisted in not giving
a conditionally promised additional privilege, but not in taking away
something already held by natural right. Death, therefore, was Adam’s
natural lot; immortality was not natural to him. So we find that when
Michael du Bay, a theologian of Louvain, taught that “the immortality of
the first man was not a free gift but his natural condition,” this
teaching was condemned by St. Pius V in 1567 (Denzinger-Bannwart,
Enchiridion Symbolorum, No. 1078).
As St. Augustine well expresses it: “It
is one thing not to be able to die, as is the case with some beings (viz.,
the angels) whom God created; but it is another thing to be able not to
die, which was the way the first man was made immortal; his immortality
came from the tree of life, not from his natural constitution. He was
mortal therefore by the condition of his animal nature, but immortal by
the free gift of his Creator” (De Genesi ad litteram, Bk.
vi, ch. 15).
Yet immortality cannot be called strictly
supernatural, for it does not raise man’s life to a level above itself,
but only prolong it, in its own order, along the line of duration. Hence
it is called by theologians a preternatural gift.
The preternatural character of Adam’s
freedom from concupiscence is not, at first sight, so clear. For it would
seem that, in a state of sinlessness, there ought to exist perfect harmony
between the various elements of man’s nature, and that the lower ought to
be in complete subjection to the higher. But, without going deeply into
the psychology of the matter, we may point out that concupiscence is a
natural effect of man’s dual nature, of his having two kinds of appetites,
sensitive and rational. Between the objects of sense and of reason there
must often, of necessity, be opposition, and since the sensitive faculties
and appetites are directly, easily, and strongly excited and stimulated by
external objects, it comes about inevitably that they begin to act without
the co-operation or the consent of the reason, and that sometimes they act
so forcefully as to put the reason to great stress before it can impose
its power of control. Concupiscence, therefore, is a natural concomitant
of man’s composite being, and integrity a special and free gift of God,
but preternatural and not strictly supernatural, as it does not raise
man’s nature above itself to a higher level of being or action.
This happy state in which our first
parents were created, and which we have been describing, did not
continue. Instead of enjoying this blissful condition of life, when Adam
dwelt in God’s intimate friendship, untroubled by pain or sorrow or the
assaults of concupiscence or the doom of impending death, man is now born
into sorrow, lives in suffering, is overwhelmed with concupiscence, sins
much and often, and even with death and the threat of damnation hanging
over him, finds it hard to remember God, to live in his presence and to
love him. Whence comes the change? Only revelation can enlighten us, and
we have now to see what it teaches.
II.
ADAM’S FALL
IN treating of Adam’s fall various points must be
carefully distinguished. First we must establish the fact of his sin,
determine with accuracy, as far as possible, in what it consisted, and
enquire how he came to commit it. Then we must consider what effect his
sin had upon Adam himself, and finally we shall have to see how it
affected his posterity. In this section we shall treat of the fact, the
nature and the motive of Adam’s sin.
1.
The sin of Adam
That it belongs to the Catholic faith, as defined by
the Church, that Adam sinned, is too well known to need any elaboration.
But we have to enquire what exactly this means. Two conditions are
necessary for there to be a sin against God. The first is that there must
be a command imposed by God, whose authority and right to command are
supreme; the second is that he who is bound by this command must
deliberately and consciously transgress it. The narrative of Genesis
makes it quite clear that in Adam’s case both of these conditions were
fulfilled. God imposed upon him the command to abstain from the tree of
knowledge; Adam deliberately broke the command, and so sinned. But the
fact of his sinning, which stands out so clearly, raises some interesting
matters which, though not affecting directly the substance of the faith,
will help to put it in a reasonable and easily acceptable setting.
In the first place, we may note that,
according to many accredited theologians and exegetes, it is not necessary
to understand in a literal sense the prohibition against eating the fruit
of some particular tree. We make take it, without offense, as a vivid but
symbolical way of representing God’s command which may have been of some
wholly different character. But, on the other hand, there is no good
reason compelling us to give up the literal acceptation of this
narrative. Since God wished to try Adam by testing his obedience, by
laying upon him some positive command over and above the natural law, it
seems a matter of indifference what form the command should take or what
thing should be commanded or forbidden. And in view of the conditions of
Adam’s life, it seems altogether suitable that the prohibition should fall
upon the fruit of some one tree among the many whence he gained his
sustenance. Then, inevitably, the question suggests itself: Why should
God wish to impose such a prohibition upon him? If he had been left with
nothing but the natural law to obey, it would have been much easier to
avoid sin. Why did God make obedience harder?
2.
Reason of divine prohibition
It is evident that God’s prohibition put a limit to
Adam’s liberty and narrowed the range of his lordship over the rest of the
visible creation. This points the way to the answer to our question, for
it was most fitting that man, so splendidly endowed and ennobled by God,
should make some offering, some sacrifice of what he had received, as an
acknowledgement of his indebtedness to God for all he had, and as a sign
of his ready obedience and entire submission to his Creator. And what
better sacrifice could he offer than that of his will and his freedom?
God therefore laid this command upon Adam, with the condition that
disobedience would bring about the loss of those supernatural and
preternatural gifts that had been bestowed upon him, which implies
necessarily that obedience would have meant their retention until the time
should have come for him to be taken from this world into the life of
heavenly glory. There was, therefore, an implied pact or covenant between
God and Adam, the observance of which by Adam was a grave obligation, for
God’s will is the highest law, and it was his will that Adam should pass
from this life into the beatific vision; he was therefore bound to keep
those means which God had given him for the attainment of that end, to
wit, sanctifying grace and its concomitants.
3.
Possibility of sin in Adam
Turning now from the command to its transgression, we
are faced with another and a more difficult question. How came it about
that Adam, in all the circumstances of his holiness, his happiness, his
spiritual and intellectual clearsightedness, his intimacy with God, could
possibly sin? The question has intrigued enquirers for ages. Many
answers have been given, and if none is wholly satisfactory, some are much
less wise and cautious than others. It is of no use to make Adam’s sin
consist in any act involving the insurgence of concupiscence, for, as we
have seen, this had no place in him. This consideration at once disposes
of many answers that have been suggested, and at the same time cuts away
the ground from all those who attack and ridicule the faith because of the
disproportion between the price of an apple and eternal life. Again, we
shall not go far towards a solution of the problem if we look at Adam’s
sin as simply a matter or ordinary morality, as a mere disobedience, for
in view of his perfect moral state and unclouded spiritual perception, it
is more than hard to understand how he could, in such a simple case, have
fallen. We must go deeper.
4.
Nature of Adam’s sin
The first thing to note is the intrinsic possibility
of sin. This, as is explained elsewhere, is a necessary accompaniment of
the possession of freewill in the absence of the vision of God face to
face. Then also, Adam was in a state of probation, and therefore, with
God’s permission, subject to temptation by Satan. His position was one of
wonderful dignity and nobility. He had no equal upon the earth, none even
to come near him in power and honor and endowments. All living things
were subject to him. He was lord of all. But he was not supreme. God
was above him, and God had restricted his freedom of action by forbidding
him to touch one tree. Then to him came Satan, speaking through the
serpent, and asking why he did not eat of that tree.
“Why should so noble a being as you
suffer such a restriction upon your liberty? Eat of the tree, break
through the bonds imposed upon you, let your freedom be unfettered.
Become as God yourself, knowing all things and daring all; be subject to
no one, have no master; be lord of yourself, serving none other.” In some
such way, as the sacred writer himself indicates, the temptation entered
into Adam’s mind. There is in it no insurgence of concupiscence, no mere
simple disobedience to a moral precept; but there is the sheer rebellion
of mind and will against the ultimate supernatural claims and rights of
God. It is the elementary conflict between the natural and the
supernatural, which must always be possible to created freedom, until all
its capacities and desires are fully extended and satisfied by the
immediate possession of the Infinite Good in the beatific vision.
Let it be noted that this explanation in
no way goes against the scriptural narrative, which is almost wholly
confined to outward things, whereas we have tried, following St. Thomas (S.
Theol., II-II, Q. 163, art. 1 and 2), to go below the surface. We may
still marvel at the apparent east with which Adam fell, but we must
remember that only the outlines of the position and circumstances have
been revealed to us. If we knew more of his life during the time
preceding the fall, how long it lasted, more of the actual circumstances
of the temptation and of Satan’s subtle and persuasive arguments, much
that new puzzles us might become clear. Meanwhile we accept the fact on
God’s authority, and pass on to examine the effects produced in Adam by
his sin.
III.
ADAM AFTER HIS FALL
1.
Loss of grace
THE Council of Trent sums up under one canon the
Catholic teaching about the immediate effects produced in Adam by his sin,
to wit, that he lost the sanctity and justice in which he had been
established, that he incurred the wrath and indignation of God, and
thereby death, likewise captivity under the power of the devil, and that
both as to soul and body he was changed for the worse (Session V, can.
1). That Adam lost his holiness and justice is too clear to need any long
demonstration. It is at the root of the whole of Catholic teaching on the
Redemption. One of the themes running all through St. Paul’s epistles is
that Jesus Christ, the second Adam, died to regain for us what the first
Adam had lost, and that through his redemptive and re-creative work we are
revivified by sanctifying grace, and become, by adoption, the sons of
God. This is what the second Adam won for us; this is what the first Adam
lost.
And, indeed, such a loss is easily seen
to be inevitable. Adam’s original condition of holiness constituted a
special relationship with God. He was destined to a supernatural end; he
was given the means of attaining it; he was given, that is to say, a
higher life principle in his soul, sanctifying grace. This higher life,
now here on earth, and still more, of course, its perfection in the next
world, postulates and implies conformity between man’s mind and will and
God’s, for it consists in the close union of the soul and the soul’s
activity with the divine life. But where there is disunion of wills there
can be no oneness of life. Adam, therefore, by putting his will in
opposition to God’s, deprived himself necessarily of this union with and
sharing in the divine life, which is sanctifying grace. By his sin he
also lost his preternatural gifts of immortality and integrity. The
threat of death was over him, to fall if he disobeyed God. The natural
law of death was conditionally suspended; but as the result of his sin it
was allowed to work itself out, the conditional promise of immortality was
cancelled, and death came into the world; “by one man sin entered into
this world and by sin death” (Rom. v 12).
2.
Loss of immortality
Here we may be forgiven a reference to an objection
which of recent years has become a common one. It is urged that St.
Paul’s teaching about the origin of death is clearly erroneous since
science has proved that death stalked through the world for countless ages
before man appeared on the earth. It is hard to believe that such an
objection can be seriously made. Those who bring it are, as a rule, ready
enough to find an acceptable interpretation of any passage of Scripture,
even at the risk of distortion, if it will agree with their theories, or
if the literal sense offends their own susceptibilities. The only reason
for not using some like indulgence here would seem to be that they are
only too well pleased to be able to attack the inerrancy of the Bible.
For to the unprejudiced reader it is evident that the only world St. Paul
is here thinking about is the world of men. His subject is sin and grace
which affect men only; he is outlining the spiritual history of mankind,
and therefore the only death he speaks of is the death of men, not that
which is the lot of all the brute creation.
3.
Loss of integrity
The biblical story of the fall makes it equally clear
that Adam lost his integrity or freedom from concupiscence. We have
already, in describing his endowments, said enough about this to dispense
us from any further elaboration of it.
The Council of Trent mentions also, as an
effect of Adam’s sin, “captivity under the power of the devil,” but it
will be more convenient to deal with this in another section and to go on
now to a matter of greater difficulty.
4.
Human nature as such unimpaired
Did the effects of Adam’s sin reach beyond his
supernatural and preternatural gifts and penetrate into the very core of
his human nature so as to spoil and vitiate, to poison and infect, the
substance of his being? We are speaking of the direct and immediate
effects of his sin, not of those which might, conceivably, have followed
from a long course of indulgence in sin if he had not at once repented, as
Catholic tradition supposes him to have done.
Certain enactments of some early Church
councils, as well as the Council of Trent, seem, at first sight, to teach
that it was so. For example, the second Council of Orange, held in 529 to
combat Pelagianism, lays down in its first canon that “anyone who holds
that Adam was not wholly, that is, both in body and soul, changed for the
worse, but that his liberty of soul remaining uninjured, his body alone
was made liable to corruption, is deceived by the error of Pelagius and
contradicts Scripture”; and again, in the eighth canon, it speaks of the
will being vitiated. The Council of Trent, as we have seen, speaks, at
the end of the canon describing the effects of his sin, of the “whole
Adam, both as to body and soul, being changed for the worse.” Theologians
commonly, in summing up this teaching, speak of Adam being deprived of his
supernatural, and wounded in his natural endowments.
The right interpretation of these decrees
is a matter of the greatest importance, for it has serious consequences.
We may first of all, for the sake of completeness, set aside an extreme
opinion which no Catholic could ever hold, but which was the position
taken by Luther, Calvin, and Jansen, and is still set forth in some
Protestant formularies. The foundation of this opinion is the denial of
the reality of sanctifying grace as a supernatural gift and the consequent
assertion that Adam’s condition, before his fall, was purely natural.
After his fall, therefore, it will follow that his nature was
intrinsically depraved and corrupted, and a thing evil in itself. This is
a fatal and truly horrible teaching. It means that every human act is of
itself and in itself evil. It makes man to be a sink of moral corruption
by nature. Natural virtue becomes impossible, and unregenerate man can do
nothing of himself but sin. Needless to say, the Church has more than
once condemned this doctrine, which is a blasphemy against God’s
goodness. But even among those who fully admit the Catholic teaching
about the supernatural character of Adam’s original state, traces of this
Protestant and Jansenist poison are sometimes to be found. There are
those who, while, indeed, keeping clear of the heretical errors just
mentioned, yet speak of man’s nature having been in some way positively
infected, and possessing in itself a positive and natural inclination to
evil. Various explanations are given as to how this comes about and in
what it consists. It will be enough to speak of one. It has been
suggested that Adam, in sinning, produced some sort of cataclysmic
disturbance in the depths of his hitherto harmonious being, a disturbance
that upset everything, clouding his intellect, weakening his will, and
violently inflaming his passions, so that even his restoration to grace
was powerless to restore his shattered natural forces. The only comment
that needs to be made upon this suggestion is that it is imaginary and
improbable. There is no trace of authority for it, and when we recall
that, to fall, Adam had to commit but one sin and not a whole series going
on for months or years, and that his sin, being in the intellectual order,
was unaccompanied by any violent movements of concupiscence, it cannot be
conceded that it produced such a far-reaching, deep-going disturbance of
his whole nature, in both body and soul, as this theory requires.
The truth of the matter is both simpler
and pleasanter. Adam indeed lost, by his sin, all his supernatural and
preternatural gifts, but did not lose anything belonging to his nature as
man. All the elements, properties, and endowments that constituted his
manhood he kept intact and unspoilt. So also the human nature that he
handed on to his children was perfect in its kind, having in it no natural
defect or infection or evil inclination that can be looked upon as the
direct result of his sin.
5.
The language of the Councils
It may appear that this does not do full justice to
the decrees of Orange and Trent, or even that it is a flat contradiction
of them. As regards the decrees of Orange, an examination of their
historical circumstances will dissipate the apparent contradiction. The
Pelagian heretics, against whom they were directed, denied that there is
any difference between Adam[‘s state before his sin and that in which we
are born. His state, they said, was purely natural, a state of subjection
to death, concupiscence, and suffering. Adam’s sin, they also contended,
was a purely personal matter, entailing no consequences upon his children
except in so far as they are apt to follow his bad example. It is also to
be remarked that, in the course of this controversy, both Catholics and
Pelagians always considered Adam from the historical, not from the
philosophical, point of view; in other words, they took him as he really
was, without distinguishing between his actual condition and the
hypothetical condition in which he would have been if God had given him
nothing beyond his merely human endowments, if he had been created in the
state of pure nature, as theologians call it. This distinction was a
refinement of later theological thought, unused at that time.
Now the Catholics, while condemning the
Pelagians’ tenets, used their language, and basing themselves always on
the comparison between the historical Adam before his fall and the same
man after his sin, found no difficulty in saying that, through sin, the
whole man in both body and soul was changed for the worse, suffering
injury to his liberty and the vitiation of his will. They only wished to
make it clear that man in a state of sin is, in every way, a much less
perfect being, especially when looked upon as a voyager to heaven, than
man in the state of original justice and sanctity. The continuation and
conclusion of the decree confirm this interpretation, and show that the
Fathers of the council simply wished to emphasize the incapacity under
which Adam lay, after his sin, to perform any “salutary act,” that is, any
act which would positively help him along the road to heaven.
Moreover, a little thought will show how
deeply the deprivation of the gifts in question affected Adam’s human
nature in its entirety, and thus will justify the language of the
conciliar decree. Though they were not natural to him, yet they were
seated and rooted deep in his nature, in his soul; they were an adornment
and perfection of his whole being, raising him to a higher level, giving
him new capacities, and setting up a perfect harmony between all the
elements of his nature. Therefore their loss, while not depriving him of
any natural perfection, while leaving his manhood intact and unspoilt in
itself, yet left it without all those added ornaments and graces which
gave it such strength and beauty.
If we turn from the decree of Orange to
that of Trent, which, as far as concerns this particular point, but
repeats the phrase used in the earlier council, we find confirmation of
our interpretation in the explanation of the words given by a theologian
who took a leading part in the formulation and discussion of the
Tridentine doctrinal decrees, to wit Dominic Soto, whose comment runs
thus: “Man is said to be wounded in his natural endowments. For since it
belongs to man’s nature to act according to reason, which he is prevented
from doing by sensuality, the gift of justice, by repressing sensuality,
perfected man in his nature, by removing the obstacle preventing him from
acting according to reason, as is natural to man. So therefore the
privation of this supernatural gift was an injury and a wound inflicted
upon his nature, in so far as it left man defenseless and open to the
attacks of the devil, the world, and the flesh, so that he could not
always act as nature meant him to do. It is as if, it being a man’s
nature to walk straight, he had a dog tied to him pulling him this way and
that; then anyone controlling the dog would perfect the man in his natural
endowments, and anyone removing the control would, in the same way, injure
him. And this is how we are to understand the first canon of the fifth
session of our synod (viz., the Council of Trent), where, dealing with the
effects of original sin, it lays down that, because of it, we have
incurred captivity under the power of the devil, and that the whole Adam
and therefore we also have been changed for the worse both as to body and
soul. Whence it follows that a man with original sin alone upon his soul,
and free from the habits contracted by actual sins, has no greater
propensity towards the objects of sense than he would have in a state of
pure nature” (Dom. Soto, De Natura et Gratia, Bk. I, ch. 13).
We conclude, then, that Adam’s sin did
not deprive him of any of his purely natural endowments; after it, as
before, his manhood was intrinsically whole and perfect.
A further difficulty now meets us. When
we repent after sinning and are taken back into God’s friendship, we
recover everything ─ grace, virtues, merits ─ that we had lost by sin.
Why cannot the same be said of Adam, if as Catholic tradition believes, he
did penance for his sin and was forgiven? If grace was given back to him,
why were integrity and immortality withheld?
6.
Connection of integrity with grace
As regards immortality the answer is at hand, implied
in what has been said above. He was promised immortality conditionally,
if he kept God’s command. He was only potentially immortal, subject to a
condition that affected one act alone, and not any others that might
follow. Hence this one condition being unfulfilled, his loss of the
promised gift was final; repentance could not recover it for him. But
this argument does not apply to the gift of integrity which he actually
possessed; some other reason must be sought. This is found in the very
nature of sin and in the special circumstances of Adam’s sin. Sin (we
refer to mortal sin only) is essentially an act of the will which
perversely turns away from God, seeking its full satisfaction and final
good elsewhere. Any sin is incompatible with the presence of sanctifying
grace in the soul, but it does not necessarily affect all of man’s
spiritual powers or therefore drive out all his supernatural virtues, some
of which may have their immediate seat in the unaffected powers, and may
exist apart from grace. So, for example, the virtue of faith is not
destroyed by every mortal sin; it is seated immediately in the intellect
and is destroyed only by that sin whereby the intellect turns away from
God, the sin of unbelief. Similarly our other and lower natural faculties
are not directly affected by every sin. Hence repentance, which means the
rectification of the will and of the particular faculty affected by the
sin, and its consequence, forgiveness, restore to us all that the sin had
lost us.
But let us now take the case of a man
who, through long indulgence in some sin, such as drunkenness, has
contracted a strong, habitual inclination towards it. The act of
repentance restores him to grace and rectifies his will, in the purpose of
amendment, with regard to that sin, but it does not take away his
inclination towards it. Putting right his will does not put right the
habit acquired by his lower appetite, and he has a struggle in front of
him before the inclination is overcome and he regains balance and
control. So in this case, repentance does not restore all that is lost by
sin; it does not restore the right inclination of the appetite perverted
by the habit of sin, because this inclination, set up by repeated acts,
affects a part of his nature which is not wholly within his will’s
controlling power. Similar principles apply in Adam’s case. Integrity is
evidently not a necessary accompaniment of grace, but in him it depended
upon grace, so that losing the one by sin he lost the other. But there is
no intrinsic reason why getting back the one should mean getting back the
other. Adam could rectify his will by repentance, which involves by God’s
benevolence the restoration of grace; but integrity, or its contrary,
concupiscence, is not a thing within the power and control of his will,
but something affecting the impulses and movements of his sensitive
appetites under the stimulus of external objects; hence the rectification
of his will in repentance did not involve the restoration of integrity.
God could have given it back to him, but we need not investigate the
reasons why he did not; it is enough to have shown why its restoration was
not involved in Adam’s repentance. Before going on to discuss the
transmission of original sin, a little more must be said about the effect
produced in Adam from a special point of view, which has some hearing upon
questions to be treated later.
In one way or another all the evils
suffered by Adam after the fall were the punishment of his sin, even
though some of them were not caused by any positive action on God’s part,
but were simply the result of the withdrawal of his non-natural
endowments. Thus the insurgence of concupiscence was the natural result
of the loss of integrity. God did not put concupiscence into Adam as a
positive punishment; he took off the special brake that he had provided,
and natural laws were allowed to have a free course.
But the matter must be looked at from
another angle also. Sanctifying grace was not merely a favor given to
Adam to keep or to throw away as he pleased. He was under a strict
obligation to keep it, because it was the necessary means to the
fulfillment of God’s design in his regard, the necessary means to the
attaining of the end which it was God’s will that he should reach.
Therefore the rejection of it was in itself sinful; the loss of
sanctifying grace was not only the consequence of his sin, not only the
penalty of his sin, but also in itself had its share in the guilt of sin.
The same is true, in due proportion, of the loss of integrity. In itself
this gift is morally indifferent, in the sense that it is not a virtue
(just as its opposite concupiscence is not a vice or a sin, as was
explicitly defined, as regards those who have been baptized, by the
Council of Trent), but in tendency, or what may be called intention, it is
decidedly and positively moral, since through the perfect harmony it sets
up between man’s lower nature and his higher, and the easy and full
dominion it gives to the latter over the former, it removes all the perils
of temptation arising from the senses and so makes sin much less easy. It
was, consequently, a means, subsidiary indeed, but highly important for
the attainment of the end set before Adam by God, and he was therefore
under strict obligation to preserve it. Further, its loss exposed him to
the grave and proximate danger of falling into many more sins, and for
this reason also its rejection, just as that of grace, was in itself
sinful.
This line of reasoning, however, will not
hold if applied to the loss of immortality, which did not share in the
nature of a sin, but was exclusively a punishment. In the first place, as
we have seen, Adam did not actually possess this gift; it had only been
promised him conditionally. Secondly, it is morally a thing wholly
indifferent, both in itself and in its implications and hearings. To be
immortal is certainly a great privilege, but to be subject to death cannot
be a fault. Death is not, even indirectly, a moral evil to be avoided, as
is the absence of grace, and likewise, in its way and measure, the absence
or loss of integrity. Subjection to death, then, unlike the loss of grace
and integrity, was exclusively the penalty of sin, but not, in itself,
partaking of the nature of sin. And, we may note in passing, this
consideration will help us to understand why our blessed Lady, though
conceived immaculate and free from concupiscence, though placed, as far as
these two endowments are concerned, in the same exalted position as Adam
had been before his fall, was yet not made immortal. The presence in her
soul of original sin would have been a moral blemish, so also would have
been the existence of concupiscence in her nature, by reason of its close
connection with sin, whereas subject to death is wholly outside the sphere
of morality.
IV: ORIGINAL
SIN IN ADAM’S CHILDREN
So far we have confined our attention to the results
of Adam’s sin as they were personal to himself. We have now to consider
the consequences as they affect all his descendants, always excepting, of
course, Jesus Christ himself and his immaculate mother, Mary.
The Church’s teaching, which we have to
expound, is contained in the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th canons of the Fifth
Session of the Council of Trent. For our purpose in this section the 2nd
Canon is the most important. Herein it is decreed that they incur
anathema who assert “that Adam’s sin wrought injury to himself alone and
not to his posterity; that he brought upon himself only and not upon us
also the loss of sanctity and justice which he had received from God; or
that he . . . transmitted to the whole human race death and bodily
sufferings alone, and not sin which is the death of the soul.”
1.
Act of sin and state of sin
First of all, a few words of preparatory definition
and explanation. Theologians define sin as a turning away from God, our
last end, and seeking our end in some created good. We are speaking of
mortal sin, which alone is sin in the full sense of the word. This is an
abstract or formal definition. In concrete terms sin is any act (and
act includes words, thoughts, and omissions) whereby man, by violating
the divine command and rebelling against God’s will, turns his back on
God. This is actual sin. The act, however, which may be the work of but
a moment, passes, but it has brought about a state of the soul which
persists. It has expelled grace from the sinner’s soul. Graceless, he is
in a state of aversion from and hostility to God. His soul, deprived of
its supernatural life, is spiritually dead. He is in a condition of moral
disorder; he has left the path to heaven and set his feet on the road to
hell. This state is called the state of habitual sin. A warning against
possible conclusion is here necessary. In ordinary colloquial English
habitual sin generally means something quite different; it denotes some
sinful act committed so often that it has become an acquired habit; so we
speak of an habitual liar or drunkard. We are using the term now in this
closer theological sense, as meaning the permanence or fixity of a
condition of sinfulness, which results from the committal of any one sin.
This condition of habitual sin persists, until the sinner, helped and
urged by actual grace, repents, puts himself right with God, whether in
the sacrament of Penance or otherwise, is received again into God’s
friendship, and made holy by the renewed in-pouring of sanctifying grace
into his soul.
2.
All men born in state of sin
As we have seen, Adam was put into the supernatural
order and enriched with many gifts, with sanctifying grace, integrity, and
potential or conditional immortality. By his sin he lost all these and,
though he repented and recovered grace, it is Catholic teaching that, as
the result of his sin, all men, except Jesus Christ and his blessed
mother, are born without these gifts, which, but for Adam’s sin, they
would have possessed, born, (A partial exception must be made in the case
of St. John the Baptist, “conceived” being substituted for “born.”)
therefore, subject to death and concupiscence, and deprived of grace.
This condition in which we are born is
contrary to God’s primary intention with regard to man, it is a state of
privation, and, considered in its totality, is called the state of fallen
nature or of original sin. It is clear that all the elements of this
state are not of equal importance, or equally pertinent to the essential
constitution of original sin, and later on we shall have to discuss their
relative values.
Our immediate task is to set forth the
fact that we are born in this state, and that it is, in fact, the
consequence of Adam’s sin. Since the aim of these essays is mainly
expository and explanatory, it is not for us to set out and examine in
full the scriptural proof of the dogma of original sin, or to follow its
unfolding from the first indistinct indications of it in some of the Old
Testament writings, to its clear and definite formulation by St. Paul. We
cannot, however, pass over in silence St. Paul’s witness to this dogma,
and his emphatic and clear exposition of its fundamental importance,
although this must be well known to all Catholics.
3.
Romans v.
The relevant passage is from the 12th to
the 21st verse of the fifth chapter of the epistle to the Romans. Let us
look for a moment at the setting of this passage. In the first four
chapters the Apostle treats at length of man’s justification, showing that
it cannot be brought about by doing the works prescribed in the law of
Moses, but that Christ’s grace is necessary. In the sixth chapter he
begins to speak about the life of man after his justification and his
progressive sanctification if he lives according to the spirit of Christ.
The fifth chapter forms a kind of bridge connecting these two parts and is
itself divided into two distinct portions. In the first half he shows how
justification, acquired by the grace of Jesus Christ, is of itself a sure
pledge of salvation and is the way that leads in future glory. Then from
the twelfth verse onwards he gives a sort of historical explanation of all
that he has already said about justification, and so makes it of universal
application. Few passages in St. Paul’s writings are more vivid and
dramatic than this, with its continual swing and movement from one extreme
to the other, its repeated contrasting of opposing hostile forces, sin and
grace, life and death, Adam the sinner, Christ the savior, and its joyful
celebration of the final triumph of grace:
“12. Wherefore as by one man sin entered
into this world, and by sin death; and so death passed upon all men in
whom all have sinned. 13. For until the law sin was in the world; but sin
was not imputed when the law was not. 14. But death reigned from Adam
unto Moses, even over them also who have not sinned after the similitude
of the transgression of Adam, who is a figure of him who was to come.”
So runs the Douai version of the first
three and the most pertinent verses of the passage. This, however, does
not give the full force of St. Paul’s words as they stand in the original
Greek. In verse 12, for example, the words “in whom” should, according to
the most probable interpretation, be replaced by “because” or “in that” to
get his real meaning. Thus he says that death came upon all men because
all sinned. And how they sinned is clear from the argument that he at
once goes on to state, which, though faulty, perhaps, in construction, is
cogent in its demonstrative force. There was sin in the world from the
beginning, but it was not imputed ─ that is, it was not imputed unto
death; until the law of Moses was enacted there was no positive law among
the Hebrews, none at least with divine sanction, making any particular sin
punishable with death; and yet during this time death reigned and
exercised dominion over all, even over those just men who did not imitate
Adam by committing personal, actual sins.
So, to put it briefly, the argument runs
thus: Death is the penalty of sin; death afflicts all men, therefore all
have sinned; but not all men have committed personal sins; therefore the
sin under which all labor, and for which all suffer death, is the sin that
all committed when Adam sinned. As his death made all men mortal, so
likewise his sin made all men sinful.
So far as this particular point is
concerned the rest of the passage adds nothing to the argument. St. Paul
does not explain how Adam’s sin has come down to us, or how we can be said
to have sinned, in any true sense, through or in his sin, or what exactly
this sin of ours consists in, or several other points that depend upon or
result from this teaching. The elucidation of these questions was to be
the work of the Church and her doctors and theologians in later ages;
before, however, we turn our attention to these matters, we may briefly
consider the fact of the existence of original sin in all mankind from
another point of view.
We have, so far, been looking at this
doctrine from the point of view of revelation alone. We wish now to ask
what, if anything, human reason has to say about it. It is, of course,
evident that reason cannot prove directly that the soul of a newly-born
infant is deprived of sanctifying grace, and is in a state displeasing to
God, a state of sin. This can be known by faith alone, in much the same
way as, for example, the real presence of Christ’s body in the Eucharist.
But in a more general way has reason anything to say in the matter? Can
the human reason, unaided by the light of divine revelation, deduce from
man’s history and present condition that the race is in a fallen state,
that there has been some primeval moral catastrophe, which has so affected
all mankind that the whole race is oppressed by its weight and subject to
its consequent penalty?
4.
Critique of argument from reason
Many have answered affirmatively. Looking round upon
all the evils that afflict mankind and fill the world, they have concluded
that there is no adequate explanation of this terrible state of things
except that afforded by the dogma of original sin. The best-known
exposition of this view in English is, probably, the one given by Cardinal
Newman. “To consider the world in its length and breadth, its various
history, the many races of man; their starts, their fortunes, their mutual
alienation, their conflicts; and then their ways, habits, governments,
forms of worship; their enterprises, their aimless courses, their random
achievements and acquirements, the impotent conclusion of long-standing
facts, the tokens so faint and broken of a superintending design, the
blind evolution of what turn out to be great powers or truths, the
progress of things, as if from unreasoning elements, not towards final
causes, the greatness and littleness of man, his far-reaching aims, his
short duration, the curtain hung over his futurity, the disappointments of
life, the defeat of good, the success of evil, physical pain, mental
anguish, the prevalence and intensity of sin, the pervading idolatries,
the corruptions, the dreary hopeless irreligion, that condition of the
whole race, so fearfully yet exactly described in the Apostle’s words,
‘having no hope and without God in the world’ ─ all this is a vision to
dizzy and appal, and inflicts upon the mind the sense of profound mystery,
which is absolutely beyond human solution.
“What shall we say to this
heart-piercing, reason-bewildering fact? I can only answer, that either
there is no Creator, or this living society of men is in a true sense
discarded from his presence. Did I see a boy of good make and mind, with
the tokens on him of a refined nature, cast upon the world without
provision, unable to say whence he came, his birthplace or his family
connections, I should conclude that there was some mystery connected with
his history, and that he was one of whom, from one cause or another, his
parents were ashamed. Thus only should I be able to account for the
contrast between the promise and the condition of his being. And so I
argue about the world: if there be a God, since there is a
God, the human race is implicated in some terrible aboriginal calamity.
It is out of joint with the purposes of its Creator. This is a fact, a
fact as true as the fact of its existence; and thus the doctrine of what
is theologically called original sin becomes to me almost as certain as
that the world exists, and as the existence of God” (Newman, Apologia
pro Vita sua, ch. v).
In much the same way Pascal argues
(Pascal, Pensées, sect. vii). Both he and Cardinal Newman set out the
argument in quite a general way. Others, wishing to strengthen it, come
down to particulars and details; some, by appealing to physical and moral
evils indifferently, try to prove that the discord, confusion, pains and
wickedness of the world cannot be reconciled with the notion of a good,
wise, and omnipotent God, except upon the hypothesis of some great
primeval catastrophe which upset everything; others, for the material of
their argument, bring up moral evil alone, in so far as it results from
concupiscence, and insist upon its universal and almost complete dominion
over mankind, with the resultant enormity and universality of human
malice. If for no other reason than the genius and just renown of those
who have sponsored them, these arguments cannot be lightly dismissed. But
they all seem to lie open to one fatal objection which robs them of real
demonstrative power. When we recall that immunity from death, suffering,
and concupiscence was a gratuitous privilege added to human nature and not
a constitutive part of it, it becomes impossible to say with certainty
that human evils and miseries cannot be wholly explained by purely natural
causes, that they are not the result of the ordinary action and interplay
of simple human and natural passions and tendencies, without postulating
some far-off fall from a higher state, some aboriginal break with the
Creator’s purposes.
The argument, then, is not absolutely
conclusive; it is, however, by no means valueless. It is a strong
confirmation of the truth of the revealed dogma, and shows that this is
the most satisfying solution of the riddle of human affairs. On this
point, as on others, St. Thomas speaks with that caution and prudence
characteristic of him, his conclusion being that, if we take into account
divine providence and the dignity of the higher part of human nature, it
can with great probability be shown that the evils afflicting mankind are
of a penal nature, whence it can be gathered that the human race is from
its origin infected with some sin (Contra Gentiles (Engl. God and His
Creatures), Bk. IV, ch. 52).
Now that we have established the bare
fact of the existence of original sin, derived from Adam, in all his
children, many questions at once confront us. What is the precise nature
of this sin and how can it be called sin, in any true sense of the word,
seeing that it does not depend upon the individual’s free will? How can
it be handed down from father to son? How can its existence and results
be reconciled with God’s goodness?
The pivotal question is the first, to
which our next section must be given.
IV.
THE NATURE OF ORIGINAL SIN
THIS is a matter on which Catholic theologians have
differed among themselves, a matter as to which there has been a
progressive elucidation of the content of divine revelation, and wherein
the defined teaching of the Church still leaves some little room for
speculation.
1.
St. Augustine
St. Augustine was the first great theologian who was
called upon to deal specifically and in any detail with the nature of
original sin (Perhaps a partial reservation should be made in favor of St.
Irenaeus, but as his teaching on the question had no influence upon later
doctors, he may here be neglected). His treatment, however, was far from
being systematic, and his thought is so elusive that, even today, though
his doctrine has been closely studied by many, there is no general
agreement as to what he really held. According to some authorities he
thought that original sin consisted in unruly concupiscence, especially
sexual concupiscence, and it must be admitted that there is much in his
writing to support this opinion. Others, however, acquit him of so crude
and almost materialistic a conception, and maintain that he taught that
original sin lay rather in the guilt or imputability of concupiscence, in
so far as, all men being morally contained in Adam, all human nature being
morally summed up in his, it follows that the whole race of men is not
only subject to concupiscence, but also shares in the guilt attaching to
the existence of concupiscence. As we have seen, the existence of
concupiscence in Adam is to be imputed to him as a sin, since his
rejection of integrity was sinful. St. Augustine, then, would have it
that this guilt is shared by all men, and constitutes the original sin.
This is probably the truer interpretation of St. Augustine’s thought.
2.
Protestant exaggerations
In the succeeding centuries most theologians followed
more or less faithfully in St. Augustine’s footsteps; but, though
something was done towards clearing away the uncertainties, it was left to
St. Thomas to find in this, as in so many other difficult matters, the
true way of reconciliation between revelation and the demands of sound
reason. With the coming of Protestantism in all its many forms, the whole
dogma of original sin became once more the subject matter of attack,
denial, and controversy. Some of the Protestant theologians attenuated
its importance and its effects, as to say that human nature was wholly
corrupted and free will destroyed. The spread of these errors made it
necessary for the Church to define her teaching somewhat more accurately
than had hitherto been done. In the decrees of the Council of Trent,
therefore, the following points are made clear: Man’s primitive holiness
and justice have been lost, and to all of Adam’s descendants have been
transmitted both bodily death and sin, which is the death of the soul (Can
2.); original sin is not caused by our imitating Adam’s sin, but is
produced by natural propagation ─ that is, it is not actual sin, yet it is
proper or personal to each soul (Can. 3); it is heretical to say that
through baptism it is merely covered up or not imputed, for it is utterly
taken away. Concupiscence, however, remains, which, though sometimes
called sin, is not sin really and strictly speaking, the name being given
to it because it arises from and tends to sin (Can. 5).
A few years later the condemnation of
certain propositions extracted from the writings of Michael du Bay of
Louvain made it clear that original sin is to be taken as voluntary with
respect to the free will of Adam in whom it began.
These definitions are not complete, nor
are they meant to be; they were not intended to cover the whole ground,
but were framed simply in view of the particular errors then current, as
is usually the Church’s way in defining her teaching. But they give us a
solid foundation, upon which, by the application of approved principles,
and by a faithful following of St. Thomas in particular, it is easy to
build a positive explanation without fear of going astray.
The enquiry into the exact nature of
original sin demands close attention; the matter is by no means as simple
as it may seem; it is, on the contrary, somewhat subtle, and it behooves
us to speak with a nice appreciation of phraseology and care in the use of
words. But any trouble will be well repaid by the better and deeper
understanding of the truth, by the enhanced appreciation of the
reasonableness of the Catholic doctrine, and the clearer view of the
harmonious agreement between its various parts.
3.
St. Thomas
St. Thomas, then, whom we take as our guide, begins
his exposition of the subject by laying down the evident principle, that
nothing can be included under the concept of original sin except what is
derived from the sin committed by Adam as head of the human race (Quaest.
Disp. De Malo, iv, a. 2). But in his sin, as in every other, there
are two elements to be taken into account: the first is the turning away
from God, our last end, and the direct result of this is the loss of
sanctifying grace; the second element is the undue and inordinate cleaving
to some created, lesser good in place of God, and to this element
corresponds the introduction of concupiscence. Hence, we find both of
these elements existing in all Adam’s posterity. By a process of
reasoning which we need not follow in detail, he goes on to show that the
deprivation of grace is the more important element, the distinctive,
determining, or, in scholastic language, the formal element, while
concupiscence is secondary, complementary, and participates in the nature
of sin only under the influence of the former element; in scholastic
speech, it is the material or quasi-material element. It will make this
clear if we suppose, for a moment, that Adam had been created in a state
of grace, but yet, at the same time, subject to concupiscence. Then his
sin would have deprived him of grace, but would not have introduced
concupiscence, as this was already present. In that case concupiscence
would not have been a constituent element in his sinfulness, because it
would not have been influenced, determined, brought into existence by the
sinful act entailing the loss of grace.
Finally, since there can be no sinfulness
whether the element of willing is altogether absent, St. Thomas proceeds
to show how the loss of grace in us, and the presence of concupiscence,
can be said to be voluntary. Here he invokes that principle, so dear to
St. Paul, that governs the whole economy or dispensation of the spiritual
relationships of men in the fall, the redemption, the Church, the
communion of saints, and, indeed, is nowadays coming to be more and more
clearly recognized as the connecting thread of all human affairs, the
principle of the physical and moral and spiritual solidarity or oneness of
all mankind.
Upon this principle, Adam sinned not
merely as an individual, but as the moral head and spiritual
representative of the whole race; when he rebelled it was all mankind
that, through the rebellious will of its head, refused obedience to God,
and thus it is this relationship of our dependence upon Adam, and this
alone that brings us, born without grace and with concupiscence, under the
category and denomination of sinners, in a real and proper, though
evidently a very special, sense. And so we come to the definition of
original sin, which, according to St. Thomas, is the culpable privation of
original justice (the word “justice” including both grace and integrity),
the culpability, so far as it affects us, being due to the fact that it
results from the act of our moral and spiritual head and representative.
Some later theologians, striving after an
even greater accuracy of expression, leave out the element of
concupiscence (the loss of integrity), and so define original sin as the
privation of sanctifying grace, whereby we are averted from God, our
supernatural end, and which is, in a way, voluntary in us by reason of our
dependence upon Adam. It would be wholly out of place to look more
closely into the comparative merits of these two definitions. The trained
theologian will appreciate the difference between them and will see
wherein one may, perchance, serve better than the other for the solving of
subtle objections against the Catholic dogma; but without a doubt both are
satisfactory as enshrining and guarding the substance of the dogma.
4.
Proposed canons of Vatican Council
In this connection it is interesting to note what was
done at the Vatican Council in 1870. Had the Council been able to finish
its labors, cut short by the Italian invasion of Rome, it had been
intended to include among the definitions of doctrine some on the subject
of original sin, in view of a fresh crop of errors that had sprung up.
The canons or decrees had been drawn up, examined, revised and amended by
the committee of theologians appointed for the purpose, and were ready to
be submitted to the fathers of the Council in full session. They have, of
course, no conciliar authority, but they have the authority attaching to
the representative body of theologians who framed them, and, judging from
what happened in the case of other decrees that were actually approved and
issued by the Council ─ for example, those on the Pope’s infallibility ─
we may conclude that these on original sin do represent, in substance,
what would have become defined dogma had circumstances allowed. The
relevant canons are as follows: Canon 4: If anyone shall say that
original sin is not truly and properly a sin in Adam’s descendants, unless
they, by sinning, actually consent to it, let him be anathema; Canon 5:
If anyone shall say that original sin is formally (Formally, a word of
common occurrence in scholastic theology, which may be rendered here as
“precisely identical with”) concupiscence itself, or some physical or
substantial disease of human nature, and shall deny that the privation of
sanctifying grace is an essential constituent of it, let him be anathema (Collectio
Lacensis, vol. vii, col. 566).
In the explanatory notes accompanying
these canons it is set forth that the fifth is directed against those who,
holding various and discordant opinions, agree in denying that the
privation of sanctifying grace enters into its essence; and it is then
noted that the canon does not define that the essence of original sin is
nothing but the privation of grace, but that this privation does enter
into its essence (Ibid., p. 558). This is stressed in another
annotation which recognizes that among Catholic theologians there are
different ways of defining the essence of original sin which quite
safeguard the dogma, and again asserts that the only intention of the
canon is to define that the privation of grace does belong to that essence
(Ibid., p. 549).
The primary essential element of original
sin is, therefore, the deprivation of sanctifying grace, while, according
to St. Thomas, a complementary element is the deprivation of integrity,
or, speaking in positive terms, the existence of concupiscence.
5.
Further explanations
It now remains to be seen how this state of
deprivation in which we are born, this loss of original justice, can be
said to be sinful, displeasing to God, and morally evil, or in other
words, how it can, as it exists in us, be brought under the denomination
of voluntary; for otherwise it cannot in any true sense be called sinful,
since sin is essentially a matter of free will. Some little has already
been said when expounding St. Thomas’s doctrine on the essence of original
sin, but we must now enquire more closely into it.
To solve this question we must go back to
the beginning when God bestowed original justice upon Adam, so that by
considering the conditions upon which it was given, we may the better
understand the results flowing from its loss. Or it would be truer to say
that from the known results we can come to a knowledge of the original
conditions of the gift, since these are, at the most, implied and not
explicitly stated in Holy Scripture.
Original justice, then, was not given to
Adam for himself alone, but given to him for all men; it was not just a
privilege personal to him, but was a gift to all mankind, who potentially
were in him and were, in the future, to derive their human nature from
him. So it was to have been passed on to all through the channel of
natural generation, in the sense that, according to the divine plan, it
would have been given to all men as the inevitable but supernatural
consequence of their coming into human existence by way of natural
procreation. The state of grace, with all that it implies, was to have
been mankind’s inheritance, on condition that it had been preserved by
Adam, who was thus put into the position of the official and, as it were,
the juridical head and representative of the whole human family. This is
clearly implied by the Council of Trent (Session VI, can. 2) when it
rejects and condemns the opinion that Adam’s loss of the holiness and
justice that he had received from God was his loss alone, and nor ours
also, for he could not have lost it for us unless he had also received it
for us, as a sacred trust and inheritance to be handed on to us.
Now it must be noted that this divine
dispensation or arrangement depends upon God’s positive ordinance; it does
not result from the very nature of things. There is nothing in the nature
of grace to make the universality of its distribution dependent upon the
oneness of the human race; had God so chosen, he could have raised every
individual to the state of grace from the moment of conception, without
taking any account of what Adam had done, of whether he had sinned or
not. As Creator of both nature and grace he has supreme and unfettered
liberty in all his dealings with men on either plane. Hence by giving
Adam this power of handing on grace to all men or of cutting it off from
them he gave him a special privilege and responsibility; he constituted
him the head and representative of all mankind in a new way, in the
spiritual order, the order of grace; he set up another and new kind of
unity and solidarity between Adam and all his children. Adam became the
human spring whence grace was to flow and pass through the whole human
stream. Yet, at the same time, this new, high office of his, though
strictly supernatural and dependent upon God’s special ordinance and
positive dispensation, was based and raised upon Adam’s natural office as
the fount and spring of human nature; it was closely connected with it,
and may even be looked upon as the same office raised to the supernatural
order. As all men were seminally in Adam from the point of view of their
human elements and nature, so it was God’s dispensation that they should
all be in him, as a river in its source, with regard to their supernatural
endowments. Hence Adam’s probation or trial and his reaction to it were
matters of the greatest moment to all his children. If he had proved
stanch and faithful he would have been confirmed in his high office as the
human source of supernatural life for all mankind. There would have been
no need for the “second Adam,” Jesus Christ, to have been installed in
that office. But as he failed under trial, the office was taken from him,
and he became, instead of the supernatural spring of life, the natural
source of death, of both body and soul, for all men.
We see then, that, by reason of Adam’s
representative character, and on account of the supernatural unity and
solidarity established by God, between him and all his posterity, when he
was put on trial, it was the whole human race that was being tested, and
all mankind that was found wanting. It was not simply the will of an
individual, isolated man that rebelled against God, but a will that
represented and acted in behalf of the whole human family.
Thus original sin, as it is in each one
of us, is voluntary, not indeed by any act of our personal will, but
through the act of the “family will” (As St. Thomas calls it, the
voluntas naturae, the will, not of the person but of humankind taken
collectively), through our relationship of spiritual dependence upon and
solidarity with our first, divinely appointed, supernatural head and
representative Adam. This explanation may seem, at first sight, to be
far-fetched, or to be merely an arbitrary theory concocted in order to
escape the difficulties caused by a harsh and unreasonable dogma. It is,
in fact, strictly scriptural. It is implied in all that St. Paul says
about the fall and the redemption. His epistles are full of this idea of
moral unity and solidarity, on the one hand, between Adam and his
posterity, on the other, between Jesus Christ and his members or
brethren. We have already seen how his incisive words, “For all sinned”
(Rom. v 12) can refer only to the sin that all committed in Adam; again he
writes: “For by a man came death, and by a man the resurrection of the
dead. And as in Adam all die, so also in Christ all shall be made alive”
(I Cor. xv 21-22), where he invokes the same principle to explain the
whole dispensation of the fall and the redemption.
The same explanation was given by the
theologians who framed and annotated the decrees and definitions which
were to have been submitted to the consideration of the Vatican Council.
“In this form of the definition,” they write, “three things are to be
noticed: (a) what is said to belong to the essence of original sin is not
a mere negation, the absence of sanctifying grace, but is the privation of
grace, that is, the absence of that sanctity which, according to God’s
ordinance, ought to have been found in all Adam’s descendants, inasmuch as
God raised the whole human race to the supernatural order of grace, in its
source and head, whereas now all are deprived of grace. But this
privation (b) neither does nor can exist without a fault committed by free
will; this free will, however, is not that which is personal to each
individual, but the free will of the head of the whole human race, of Adam
himself, who, sinning, lost not only that grace which belongs to him
personally, but also that which, according to God’s plan, would have been
passed on to all his children. Hence Adam’s sin was the sin of human
nature and becomes the habitual sin inhering in all who, by carnal
generation, share in the nature derived from Adam. . . .” (Acta Conc.
Vaticani, Collectio Lacensis, vol. vii, col. 549).
It was necessary to treat of this rather
subtle matter at some length because it forms the center and core of the
whole dogma of original sin from the explanatory point of view. The
points to be remembered are these: original sin, as it is in each
individual, is not an actual sin but an habitual sin or a state of sin;
the free will concerned in it is not the free will of the individual, but
the free will of the head of the family or race, in so far as Adam was
appointed the family or race representative in the supernatural order; and
therefore the individual is not responsible personally, for through no
fault of his own is he a member of the family despoiled by its father’s
sin of its supernatural privileges. These points being established,
everything else follows almost as a matter of course.
VI: TRANSMISSION OF ORIGINAL SIN
1.
Theological development
THE question of the transmission of original sin from
generation to generation presents no great difficulty once its nature has
been settled, but it is interesting from the point of view of historical
theology. It is a good example of the way in which, with the progress of
time and the incidence of conflict and discussion, the meaning of some
revealed doctrine grows clearer, though in substance and reality it has
been firmly believed from the beginning. From the very first the Church
taught that all the children of Adam are born in a state of enmity with
God and need to be reborn and cleansed in the Sacrament of Baptism. The
whole dogma of original sin is bound up in this belief, but, as is clear,
it is implicit only. It was but gradually that the implications were
worked out, and that many points of truth, hitherto hidden or unheeded,
began to be seen clearly. During the first four centuries the process of
development had already gone some way, but the Pelagian controversy in the
fifth did more to carry it forward than anything that had hitherto
happened. But even this did not bring full enlightenment, one point upon
which there was still some obscurity being that of how original sin is
passed on from generation to generation. The ante-Pelagian fathers had
stressed, even to exaggeration, the act of generation as the medium of
transmission; some of them, indeed, seem to regard it as the true
effective cause of original sin. The Pelagians put the question in a new
light. The soul, they said, is spiritual and, therefore, cannot be
produced by the physical act of generation; neither can a father transfuse
or pass on some of his soul to his son, for being spiritual, it is
indivisible. The soul, then, must be directly created by God. So far the
argument is sound, but, because they had a wrong notion of original sin,
they drew a false conclusion, for they said to the Catholics: “If the
soul is created in a state of sin, as you contend, God must be the author
of the sin, a blasphemous doctrine that no Christian can hold. Therefore,
you must give up your false dogma of original sin.”
2.
St. Augustine’s difficulty
St. Augustine felt the force of the objection which
has its full effect today upon those who hold erroneous opinions upon the
nature of original sin. He could not see a good way out of the
difficulty, and consequently against his instinctive inclination and his
better judgment, could not bring himself to accept without reserve the
teaching that each soul is immediately and directly created by God. He
hoped that some justification could be found for the theory of
traducianism, according to which the father exerts a real causative and
productive efficiency in the production of his son’s soul. His letter to
St. Jerome on the subject (Epist. S. Augustini, 166) proves both
his painful hesitation on the point and his profound intellectual
humility; whatever his preferences might be, and however great the
difficulties entailed by the truth, he would accept it wholeheartedly.
The real cause of his difficulty lay, of course, in his imperfect
understanding of the nature of original sin. This problem had not yet
been worked out to its final solution. Though St. Augustine, probably,
did not hold that original sin is identical with concupiscence, as he has
often been accused of doing, though he yet did not conceive of it as some
positive poison infecting the soul, yet he was overmuch inclined to look
upon its positive aspect, and over-estimated the part played in it by
concupiscence. But if we bear in mind the definition that has been given
and its explanation, the difficulty that bothered him disappears and the
transmission of original sin through the act of generation is easily
understood.
3.
Explanation
It is a result of mankind’s solidarity, physical and
spiritual, with Adam. We are burdened with original sin only in so far as
we are one family with Adam as our head and representative. His headship
in the supernatural order is founded on and co-extensive with his physical
headship, and therefore affects all those and only those who are descended
from him by physical generation. Or, again, original sin is not a matter
of the individual’s will, but of the “family” will, the representative’s
will; it partakes of the nature of sin only in so far as it is derived
from Adam. But everything derived from him comes to us by the way of
physical generation whereby human nature is handed on from father to son.
Hence original sin, just as every other human inheritance, comes to us by
this channel. This is not to say that the act of generation is the
efficient cause of the existence of original sin in the individual. That
act is not the efficient or productive cause even of the existence of the
child’s soul (See Essay vi). All it does is so to dispose the material
body, to put it into such a condition that, according to the divinely
established laws of nature, it calls for and, if we may be allowed the
word, necessitates the creation of the soul by God. But this soul, good
and, indeed, a perfect thing in the natural order, is deprived of that
sanctifying grace which it ought to have had, according to God’s original
but conditional design; instead of being supernaturalized, as it ought to
have been, it is a purely natural thing; at the same time, and owing to
the same cause, the whole human being, body and soul, is deprived of the
gift of integrity, which it ought to have possessed, and, therefore,
subject to concupiscence. But all this comes into effect when, and only
when, the complete human being comes into existence, which is the result
of the act of generation. This act, then, is the vehicle of the
transmission of original sin.
4.
Answers to some objections
After all that has been said, it is hardly necessary
to enter upon the process of argument by which God is defended against the
charge of injustice commonly made against him in this connection. If
original sin were a positive thing made or created by him, the charge
could not be met; but such an hypothesis is blasphemous. Again, if
original sin lay in the deprivation of something belonging, of right, to
man’s nature, even though this natural right be God’s gift, the accusation
could be sustained. But since it consists in the deprivation of something
to which man has not the shadow of a claim or right, of something that is
farther above his own capacity of attainment, farther beyond the stretch
of his own faculties to reach, than even reason would be above the powers
of the lower animals, the deprivation, to wit, of sanctifying grace, the
bottom drops out of the charge altogether. God chose to give this
supernatural gift to man out of the abundance of his love. His decision
was unfettered, divinely free. Similarly, therefore, he was completely
free to make the conditions upon which the gift should be given, kept, and
handed on. In the supernatural order, it cannot be too often repeated,
man has and can have no rights against God, no claims upon him; God can
have no duties towards man. On his side it is all a matter of free
bestowal; on ours of undeserved receiving. Even our merits, real as they
are, are not ours in principle, but come from God’s grace through Jesus
Christ. Therefore there can be no question of injustice arising out of
the existence and transmission of original sin, because this is a matter
concerning the supernatural order of grace, wherein God’s freedom is above
all measure and understanding. Many Catholic writers, in dealing with
this question, use as an illustration the example of a king who, out of
pure benevolence, raises one of his lowest subjects, an unlettered,
unknown peasant, to the highest and most honorable position in the
kingdom, with the promise that, should he prove himself faithful and
deserving, his honors and estates will be confirmed to his heirs for ever,
while, on the other hand, the consequence of unfaithfulness will be the
reduction of himself and them to the lowly condition wherefrom he had been
raised. Put to the test, the ungrateful subject fails and rebels against
his king. As a result he is stripped of all his possessions, and not only
does he sink back to his former state of poverty and misery, but he and
all his children, as long as men keep the remembrance of his history, lie
under the stigma and disgrace of ingratitude, rebellion, and treason. As
far as it goes the illustration is good; it shows that no accusation of
injustice against God can be upheld, but it is only an illustration, and,
like all analogies between the human and the divine, falls far short of
being an adequate picture of the reality, since there can be no true
measure of proportion between the highest worldly position and the divine,
adoptive sonship conferred by grace. We have now to see what effects are
produced in us by original sin, first as regards this present life, then
as far as the future life is concerned.
VII: EFFECTS OF ORIGINAL SIN
1.
Loss of grace
THE first effect of original sin, as regards this
present life, is, of course, the loss of sanctifying grace with all
therein involved, to wit, the loss of the theological and moral virtues
and the gifts of the Holy Ghost. Although this loss, as we have seen, is
of the very essence of original sin, it may also, from another point of
view, be regarded as an effect.
The canon of the Council of Trent
(Session V, can. 2) which defines the Catholic teaching on this point,
indicates that the deprivation of grace has two aspects: it has the
nature of sin in so far as it is an aversion from God, and the nature of a
penalty in so far as we are thereby left bereft of the power and means of
attaining the final end to which we were destined.
2.
Loss of preternatural gifts
The second effect is the loss of the preternatural
gifts, namely, integrity, immortality, and freedom from pain and
suffering. The Council of Trent clearly defined that subjection to death
is the result of original sin, but does not speak in such explicit terms
about the loss of integrity. Since, however, as seen above, it says that
concupiscence “comes from sin,” it implies, clearly enough, that Adam’s
sin is responsible for the loss of integrity, and this is the unanimous
teaching of all theologians.
3.
Wound in man’s nature
As for the other gifts bestowed upon Adam, their loss
is included under the general phrase that “the whole man, both in body and
soul, suffered a change for the worse.” This loss of the preternatural
gifts is often spoken of as a wound in man’s nature. A wound is cut in
the body, a severance of parts or tissues which ought to be united, thus
creating disunion and disorder and preventing the proper functioning of
the parts affected. Similarly by original sin the perfect harmony and
unity, that originally reigned throughout the various levels of man’s
nature, are broken, with the result that his different faculties,
especially his higher powers of will and intellect, cannot work with that
ease and sureness and peace that otherwise would have been theirs.
4.
Captivity under Satan
These effects had to be mentioned here, even at the
cost of some repetition; but after what has already been set down about
them there is no need to say more. There is, however, another effect that
must be more fully explained. The Council of Trent speaks in two places
of “captivity under the power of the devil” as being the result of Adam’s
sin (Session V, can. 1, and Session VI, cap. 1). Modern thought, so
called, cannot abide the idea of a personal devil, and to its votaries the
Tridentine doctrine will appear absurd; many Catholics, even, are a little
shy of such teaching and few, perhaps, realize all that it means. Yet the
New Testament is full of it: “Know you know, that to whom you yield
yourselves servants to obey, his servants you are when you oey, whether it
be of sin, unto death, or of obedience, unto justice” (Rom. vi 16), and,
“By whom a man is overcome, of the same also he is the slave” (2 Peter ii
19); it is, indeed, but one special aspect of a universal natural truth
and law.
God, in creating the world, established
it as a vast hierarchy of beings, according to a plan of an ascending
scale of natural dignity and perfection. From inanimate beings we rise
through the different degrees of living things to man, who is supreme
among material creatures. Above man is the world of pure spirits, the
angels, who, according to Catholic teaching, are divided into choirs
according to the varying degrees of their natural dignity. Above all,
infinitely transcending all, is God. Now it is the general law of nature
that power and dominion correspond with natural perfection and dignity.
Every being has some sort of natural dominion over those lower in the
scale of perfection, and may make use of them to serve its own lawful ends
and convenience. So we may use the lower creatures, animate and
inanimate, for our own good, as our servants. We have natural rights over
them. These rights are not unlimited, and may be abused. It is, perhaps,
impossible to determine the exact limits of this dominion, but as to its
real existence there can be no doubt. Similarly in the angelic world,
according to Catholic theology, the higher angels exercise a certain
empire over the lower, in many ways, as St. Thomas sets forth at length in
his treatise on the angels.
Finally, the angels, by virtue of their
higher place in the scale of natural perfection, have certain natural
rights of dominion over their inferiors ─ men, brutes, and lifeless
creatures. How far this empire extends we cannot say; of course, it does
not destroy man’s autonomy, but there is no doubt of its existence as a
natural corollary of the hierarchy of things. The story told in the Book
of Job is an illustration of it.
5.
Natural empire of Lucifer
Consider, now, the angels who rebelled and fell.
They were shut out from the supernatural kingdom, but there is no reason
whatever to suppose that they suffered any loss or hurt in their natural
qualities and endowments. They kept all their wonderful natural gifts of
intellect and power, their natural dignity and superiority, and therefore,
likewise, their natural rights of dominion, over the lower creatures. And
if we accept the common teaching that Lucifer was one of the very highest
of God’s angels, it follows that his natural empire is of immense power
and extent. But another factor in the ordering of things has here to be
taken into account. The angels had not been left in their natural state,
but had been raised to the supernatural plane, becoming sharers in God’s
life and glory. Hence when Lucifer was cast down he lost all his natural
rights of dominion over those of the lower angels who remained faithful,
since the least of those who are in the supernatural order is superior in
dignity and perfection to the highest of them who are possessed of natural
gifts alone. Satan was despoiled of his kingdom. He suffered a further
and greater rebuff to his dignity when man was created and raised by grace
to the supernatural plane. Here was a creature who, by all the laws of
nature, should have been a lowly subject in Satan’s kingdom, yet who,
through God’s magnificent generosity, had been raised above him and set
upon a height of dignity and perfection which he could envy but never
reach. Lucifer the proud, “the prince of this world” (John xii 31), found
himself humbled, deprived of his natural rights, forced to take a lower
place even than man; so far beneath him in the hierarchy of nature. No
wonder that he tried to recover his lost empire. Against the faithful
angels all assaults must, of necessity, be vain, but man was still open to
attack, and when attacked, succumbed. But we must not confuse the issue.
This first struggle was purely a battle between the natural and the
supernatural. It was not a conflict of good and evil in the merely moral
or ethical order. Satan wished to rob man of his supernatural dignity and
to pull him down to his purely natural level, so as to enroll him in the
ranks of his own subjects. The attack was successful; Adam, for himself
and his children, rejected the supernatural, proposing to be his own end
and his own ruler, chose the merely natural, fell to the lower level, and
so doing, came once more beneath the empire of Satan, who recovered his
natural rights over him as an inferior being, which man’s elevation to the
supernatural level had taken away from him. Herein lies the basis of
man’s captivity under the devil’s power. It is but the working of a
general natural law.
But God’s goodness was not defeated. The
Redeemer was appointed and, by his merits, drawn upon in advance, mankind
was again raised to the supernatural order, and Satan once more despoiled
of his natural rights of empire. While, however, man’s fall was actually
universal, affecting every individual, the redemption, though universal in
principle, does not become individually effective until the individual is
incorporated with Christ, until Christ’s merits are applied to him
personally, and sanctifying grace is thus infused into his soul. Being
born, then, without grace and subject to the universal effect of Adam’s
fall, he is born a citizen of the natural kingdom only, where Satan still
has and wields his rights and powers of empire. He is born a subject of
the devil. In essence, therefore, this subjection to Satan is quite a
natural thing, resulting from the natural superiority of angelic to human
nature. There is still, however, a reservation to be made. It is true
that Christ’s redemptive merits are not actually applied to the new-born
child until, in baptism, he is incorporated with Christ. But Christ died
for all the members of the human family into which the child is born;
Christ wishes all to be saved; the child, therefore, is included in the
all-embracing supernatural destiny of mankind; if not actually, he is
already potentially supernaturalized, and it would seem to follow from
this that God does, in fact, curtail to some extent Satan’s natural rights
of empire. Besides, since the infant is not yet capable of using his
reason and will, since they are beyond the influence of his nascent
imaginative faculty, in the stimulation of which Satan’s power over men
principally lies, his dominion over the child is almost wholly, if not
quite, passive and ineffectual; he cannot produce in him any actual evil
effects or sinful acts. We need not here enquire into the consequences of
this captivity, either in infants or adults, which is set forth in the
essay on the angels. It is enough to have established its reality and to
have shown that it means that the child, until its rebirth in baptism, is
enrolled under Satan’s flag and subject to his natural dominion. Hence,
when the priest, in the prayer of exorcism before baptism, admonishes
Satan to “go out and depart” from the child, he is not indulging in
ecclesiastical rhetoric or repeating the tags of ancient superstition; he
is speaking the language of stark realism. Whence it is easy to
understand the desire of the Church that children should be baptized as
soon as possible, to put them beyond Satan’s power, and enroll them in the
supernatural kingdom of Christ.
6.
Fate of unbaptized infants
So far we have been considering the effects resulting
from original sin, as regards this life. We have now to see what effects
it will have upon the soul’s destiny in the next life. For the sake of
clearness we shall take the case of the soul that passes into the other
world, unstained by actual sin, but yet still burdened with original sin.
Though some who come to the full use of reason may die in this condition,
which is a matter of dispute among theologians, it is evident that the
question principally concerns children who die without baptism, and in
view of their immense numbers, it is of great practical interest and
importance. Opponents of the Church, neglecting her authoritative
pronouncements and the general and current teaching of her theologians,
are given to seizing upon some opinion held by St. Augustine or some other
early father, to putting this individual’s view forward as representative
of Catholic doctrine, and then denouncing this as harsh, inhuman, and
incompatible with God’s loving mercy.
We do not deny that some of the early
fathers or later theologians may have spoken about this matter in terms of
exaggeration, or held opinions that to us seem harsh and unreasonable,
especially when they were excited by the denials of heretics, with whom
controversy was often violent and bitter, and led, not seldom, to
overstatements on both sides. Notwithstanding the reverence due to these
earlier champions of the faith, and the authority and prestige rightly
attaching to their names and teachings, it must be borne always in mind
that no father and no doctor is infallible; and where the Church has
spoken, or even shown the bent of her mind, it is not only our right but
our duty to throw over even an Athanasius or an Augustine, if his teaching
is not wholly at one with hers.
On this present question the Church has
had occasion to make clear certain points of her faith, sometimes when
issuing conciliar decrees, sometimes when publishing condemnations of
erroneous doctrines. In the Council of Florence, A.D. 1439, which
effected a short-lived reunion between the Church and the schismatical
Easterns, she included as an article of her creed the affirmation that
“the souls of those who depart from this life, either in actual mortal sin
or in original sin only, go down at once into hell, there however to
suffer disparate penalties.” In 1567 Pope St. Pius V condemned a number
of propositions taken from the writings of Michael du Bay of Louvain;
among them is one asserting that the upbaptized child, attaining the use
of his reason after death, will actually hate and blaspheme God and set
himself against God
S ;aw/ In 1794 Pius VI condemned a great many of the
errors propounded by the Erastian synod recently held at Pistoia in
Tuscany, among them being the “doctrine that rejects as a Pelagian fable
that part of the lower regions (generally known as the limbo of infants)
in which the souls of those dying in original sin alone are punished with
the pain of loss (i.e., the beatific vision) without the pain of fire. . .
.”
From these pronouncements we draw the
following conclusions: unbaptized children are deprived of the beatific
vision of God, which is man’s true final end; this is a part of the
defined Catholic faith. It is certain that they neither hate nor
blaspheme God nor rebel against his law, and it is, at least, most
improbable that they suffer from the fire of hell or any sort of positive,
sensible pain; while, on the contrary, it is most likely that their state
is one of true peace and natural happiness. The dogma of faith is clearly
contained in Christ’s words to Nicodemus: “Unless a man be born again of
water and the Holy Ghost, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God” (John
iii 5), and is, also, the direct theological consequence of all that has
been said about the nature of original sin. This consists primarily in
the privation of sanctifying grace, which is the principle of divine
sonship, and, hence, the necessary condition for entry into God’s eternal
kingdom. The beatific vision is the full flowering of grace; when the
soul in grace is freed from the bonds of flesh and cleansed from its
lesser impurities and from the debts it owes to God’s justice, it passes
naturally into glory. Where, however, the bud has not formed no flower
can bloom.
On the other hand, there is no
ecclesiastical authority for the opinion, now almost universally rejected,
that the child who dies upbaptized suffers any pain of sense, that is, any
positive punishment such as is inflicted upon those who die with
unforgiven, actual, mortal sins upon their souls. On this point Catholic
doctors and theologians have not always been in full agreement among
themselves. St. Augustine, for example, held that such children would
suffer some sort of positive pain, though he admitted that he did not know
how or what, and was, as a rule, careful to add that it would be of a kind
very light and easy to bear. He was followed by many in the West, whereas
the Greek fathers, generally, were inclined to the view that these
children suffer nothing except the pain of loss or deprivation of the
beatific vision. The theological reason for this opinion, which is now
held by all, is clearly explained by St. Thomas: “The punishment,” he
writes, “bears a proportion to the sin. Now in actual sin there is,
first, the turning away from God, the corresponding punishment being the
loss of the beatific vision; and secondly, the inordinate cleaving to some
created good, and the punishment corresponding with this is the pain of
sense. But in original sin there is no inordinate cleaving to created
good, . . . and therefore it is not punished by the pain of sense” (Quaest.
Disp., De Malo, v, a. 2).
From this follows our third conclusion,
to wit, that it is most probable that the state of unbaptized children in
the next world is one of peace and natural happiness. Since they do not
suffer any pain of sense, and since they do not hate God or set themselves
against his law, the only thing that could trouble their peace or spoil
their happiness would be a sorrow or anguish resulting from the knowledge
of the supernatural happiness for which they were intended, but which is
for ever lost to them. Some eminent theologians, as St. Robert Bellarmine,
have held that they do suffer in this way. Apart from the authority of
some of the fathers, their main reason for thinking thus is that the child
will see and understand his loss and therefore grieve over it. St.
Thomas, however, denies this and his reasoning seems conclusive (Quaest.
Disp., De Malo, v, a. 3). It is based on the truth, fundamental in
Catholic theology, that grace and, therefore, the possession of the
beatific vision, which is the final culmination of grace, are absolutely
and in the strictest sense of the word supernatural. They not only exceed
man’s natural powers of attainment, but also and equally his natural
powers of knowing. It is impossible for a man to know, by natural reason
alone, without the help of revelation and the gift of faith, that his
final happiness consists in the immediate sight and possession of God.
Consequently unbaptized children, not having received the sacrament of
faith, have not the supernatural knowledge, without which they cannot know
what they have lost. Hence their loss causes them no anguish of soul.
Although these considerations may bring
some little consolation to the Catholic mother grieving over the fate of
her child who has died unbaptized, they will not relieve the weight upon
her conscience, should hers have been the fault, or free parents from the
obligation to have their children baptized as soon as possible, since
there is no measure or proportion between the natural happiness that will
be their lot in limbo, and the inconceivable felicity of heaven, of which
man’s carelessness may so easily deprive them. Moreover, it must be
clearly understood that the child dying without baptism is definitely
lost. He is not in some midway state between salvation and damnation. He
was made for one end only, a supernatural end; and failure to reach that,
whether the fault be his own or another’s, is complete failure, is eternal
loss, even though unaccompanied by the positive tortures of a soul that
has willfully damned itself.
7.
Conclusion
To conclude this short study of the fall and original
sin, we may call attention to the fact that the whole of it is based upon
the truth and the reality and the supernatural character of sanctifying
grace. Without this the fall becomes a myth and original sin an
absurdity. Consequently, since the most fundamental error of
Protestantism is its denial of the reality or its grievous
misunderstanding of the nature of grace, Protestant theology is always
hopelessly at sea and at loggerheads with itself when dealing with
original sin.
Again, the dependence of the dogma of the
fall and original sin upon the reality of grace at once puts this dogma
into its place among those that are essentially mysterious. It is beyond
the power of our reason fully to understand it, or to prove its
existence. This we know only by revelation. But once it is accepted it
makes nearly everything else clear. The fall explains the life and death
of Jesus Christ, and the whole sacramental system. Without original sin
the Church, which is the permanent means established by God to make good
the damage done by Adam’s sin, would be a useless encumbrance, and without
the Church religion, in the full meaning of the word, would soon flounder
and disappear. And even the history of the world, especially that of the
chosen people, can only be properly understood in the light of this
dogma. Mysterious, then, as it is, it is lit up and made easy of belief
by all around us, by everything that touches us most nearly; unpalatable
as it may be to our natural taste, it is sweetened by its necessary
connection with all those things that are our greatest joy in this world
and our only hope for the next.
B. V. Miller |