Abstract

This book should not be read. It must be studied. Its appearance, in the 50th anniversary year of the opening of the Second Vatican Council (1962–1965), offers the most extensive introduction to the Ressourcement Movement yet to appear in English. Ressourcement was an intellectual and spiritual movement credited with inspiring and shaping the agenda of the council. The 33 essays contained in this volume demonstrate that the breadth, depth, and historical context of the movement can only be introduced in this 583-page collection. This is the beginning, not the culmination, of a scholarly enterprise. Scholars should be grateful for this timely resource.
The volume is divided into four parts: ‘Historical Context,’ ‘Central Figures,’ ‘Threefold Programme of Renewal,’ and ‘The Church in the Modern World.’ Gabriel Flynn’s introductory essay, ‘The Twentieth-Century Renaissance of in Catholic Theology,’ should be treated as an essential précis to the topic, and John McDade’s ‘Epilogue: “Ressourcement” in Retrospect,’ offers an admirable synthetic analysis of the contents of this collection, while casting a critical eye at the danger of ‘triumphalism’ among admirers of this movement and reflecting on the work yet to be done. Essays by Joseph Komonchak, Benedict Viviano, Brian Daley, and Gerard O’Collins are sure to delight anyone interested in the topic. John Webster and Andrew Louth help situate the influences on, and the impact of, this movement in the Protestant and Orthodox contexts. A particularly helpful essay by Lewis Ayres, Patricia Kelly, and Thomas Humphries, entitled ‘Benedict XVI: A Ressourcement Theologian?,’ should be read by anyone seeking to understand contemporary magisterial teaching. While no collection of essays is uniformly successful, it should be noted that the essays gathered under ‘Historical Context’ are an admirably coherent grouping and provide a valuable introduction for students and scholars.
The term ‘ressourcement’ was coined by the poet and social critic, Charles Péguy (1873–1914), and coopted by Yves Congar (1904–95) to describe the urgency he and others felt, ‘to move from “a less profound to a more profound tradition; a discovery of the most profound resources”’ (p. 4). Congar among the Saulchoir Dominicans, and Henri de Lubac (1896–1991) among the Lyon-Fourvière Jesuits, receive extended treatment throughout this volume, although they are only two among a pantheon of now celebrated theologians who pioneered the work of ressourcement. The brief biographical sketches of seven of these figures, while uneven in their structure and content, nevertheless are useful as a collected whole.
Defenders of the neo-scholastic tradition condemned their work as ‘la nouvelle théologie,’ a term which originated with Cardinal Pietro Parente, Secretary to the Holy Office, and was popularized by Réginald Garrigou-Lagrange in his disparaging 1946 article, ‘La nouvelle théologie où va-t-elle?’ They were convinced that ressourcement brashly attempted to demolish (‘di demolire’) what they considered by then to be the classical system of the schools (‘il sistema ormai classico delle nostre scuole’) (p. 5, see n. 23). Although Congar and de Lubac emphatically rejected the epithet, their critics correctly identified an aspect of their agenda. In 1946, Jean Daniélou wrote, ‘le néo-thomisme reprèsente une forme sclérosée et durcie de la pensée du Docteur Angélique’ (Paris, Archives de la Province de France de la Compagnie de Jésus, Q Ly 521/1; thanks to Erick Moser for this reference). Étienne Gilson in a letter to Henri de Lubac in 1956 stated, ‘Our only salvation lies in a return to Saint Thomas himself … before [the Thomism] of Cajetan, whose famous commentary is in every respect the consummate example of a corruptorium Thomae. … Salvation lies in returning to the real St. Thomas … accept no substitute!’ (Étienne Gilson, Lettres de M. Étienne Gilson addressées au P. Henri de Lubac (Paris, 1986), 19–20). Christopher Ruddy’s essay, ‘Ressourcement and the Enduring Legacy of Post-Tridentine Theology,’ cautions against the temptation to treat the era of Baroque theology as ‘a new Dark Age,’ and assesses the positive contributions of theologians of that period.
Jürgen Mettepenningen’s helpful essay, ‘Nouvelle Théologie: Four Historical Stages of Theological Reform Towards Ressourcement (1935–1965),’ explores the complex reception of a term that began as a pejorative critique and became a badge of honour (for some). While ‘la nouvelle théologie’ has been used as a synonym for ressourcement, Mettepenningen makes useful distinctions to guide the uninformed reader. The early intentions that motivated the advocates of ressourcement drew support from many directions and created fruitful interaction across a broad spectrum. Yet the innovative approach taken by some—and now associated with ‘la nouvelle théologie’—was not shared by all. The unifying feature of the movement was a commitment to recover ancient and ‘classic’ sources, which had been marginalized or obscured by the manualist tradition of the early modern and modern period. Asking new questions of these sources was the hallmark of ressourcement. Exploring questions that reflected aggiornamento during the council and beyond divided former allies and created divergent trajectories for members of the Ressourcement Movement.
As one deeply committed to the historical project—one of the fruits of ressourcement—certain essays displayed a frustrating preoccupation with ideas and neglect of historical contextualization. But it would be churlish to obsess about the few examples of this, when the majority of these contributions should be celebrated for their balanced theological tone, historically responsible research, and stylistic elegance. It is a volume to be commended to anyone seeking to understand how the Second Vatican Council came to be. It offers explanations for why we should continue to care. And it provides wise words of caution to preserve and build on the achievements of a 20th-century movement that has much to teach us in our day.
