The Good Book points out that there is a season for everything and a time for every matter under heaven. There is a time to be born and a time to die; a time to plant and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill and a time to heal; a time to break down and a time to build up; a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance; a time to throw away stones and a time to gather them; a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek and a time to lose; a time to keep silence and a time to speak; a time to love and a time to hate; a time for war and a time for peace. (Ecclesiastes, 3:1-8)
The Sixties were certainly a time of all this and much more. New nations were being newly born, free of the shackles of old colonialism. Fidel Castro had just marched on Havana after the Cuban dictator Fulgencio Batista fled from his country. Sino-Soviet relations drifted apart as a result of Krushchev's more pragmatic approach to world affairs. Space exploration agencies like NASA and the Russian Agency (RKA) eagerly launched their vast programme for the exploration of space.
In the first years of this decade the US Government committed itself to aid South Vietnam in its fight against the Communist Viet Cong rebels. This was the time of the Berlin crisis, culminating in the building of the infamous Wall; when the long, cold war between the world's superpowers and their nuclear arms race were formally started.
In the Sixties, science and technology produced marvellous feats; the transistor was revolutionising the field of electronics; there was the first international satellite television broadcast; the vaccine against measles had just been approved; IBM was still introducing its second-generation computer; and the first direct-dial international phone call was made. This was the era of the Beatles, and for the Catholic Church, it was the time of Vatican II.
Forty years ago this month, the Catholic Church was busily preparing for what was to be her greatest event for many centuries - an ecumenical council. It was the 21st such gathering of all bishops and the second to be held in the Vatican; the first, held in 1870, had never been concluded.
However, in spite of the Church's vast experience in holding councils, this one presented unprecedented difficulties and complications, among them the logistic problem of accommodating 2,381 bishops and prelates, together with their staff, experts and observers, in a city that is normally very crowded.
The opening ceremony, held in St Peter's Basilica on October 11, 1962, was a pompous display of the Church's power and universality. The pseudonymous Xavier Rynne, rumoured to be one of the periti (theological experts) inside the council itself, in one of his regular "Letters from Vatican City" described the dazzling spectacle on that Thursday morning:
"At eight o'clock, two papal gendarmes, resplendent in parade uniform of white trousers and black top boots, coats, and busbies, slowly swung open the great bronze doors leading into the papal palace, and exposed to part of the crowd row upon row of bishops, clad in flowing white damask copes and mitres, descending Bernini's majestic scala regia from the papal apartments.
"In rows of sixes, an apparently inexhaustible phalanx of prelates filed out of the Vatican palace, swung to their right across St Peter's Square, then wheeled right again, to mount the ramp-like steps leading into the basilica. Every now and then, this white mass was dotted with the black cassock, full beard, and round headdress of an oriental bishop, and here and there with the bulbous gold crown and crossed pectoral reliquaries of a bishop of the Byzantine rite. Towards the end came the scarlet ranks of the Sacred College of Cardinals.
"Finally, the pope appeared, carried, in deference to the wishes of his entourage, on the sedia gestatoria, and looking rather timid, perhaps even frightened - as he always does when first mounting this oriental contraption - but gradually warming up to the mild acclamation of the overawed crowd." This was only the start of the inaugural ceremony but the preparatory work had been going on for nearly four years.
It all started on January 25, 1959, feast of the Conversion of St Paul. On that day, John XXIII, already past his 77th birthday and barely 90 days in Peter's Chair, was gathered with a small group of cardinals in the Roman Basilica of St Paul Outside the Walls. It was there that he revealed his decision to summon a council.
"Trembling a little with emotion but at the same time humbly resolute in my purpose, I announce to you a double celebration, which I propose to undertake: a diocesan synod for the City and a general council for the Universal Church."
The idea about the synod did not entirely belong to the pontiff, although that of the council was undoubtedly his own. Once he admitted that when he first disclosed the thought about a council to some of his close confidants they replied: "Holy Father! The idea of an ecumenical council is a fine one, but why not think first of all of the immediate needs of Rome by preparing for a diocesan synod for the City that is the centre of Christianity?" Moreover, someone else had reminded him that the 1917 Code of Canon Law had become outdated and that it was time to revise it.
The Council was John XXIII's own idea, one that in his Journal of a Soul he described as coming to him like a flash of heavenly light. John was determined to go along with his inspiration for he knew that he didn't have too much time left to see it come true. So he answered: "Fine, let's hold a synod and let's also think of the Code. But in any case, let's make the council our main concern."
Very little is known about the reaction of those present. At the end of his speech, the Pope humbly requested them: "I would like to have your advice", but not a single response came back. Two years later, John XXIII himself remarked that the cardinals had received the announcement in an impressive, devout silence.
After the consistory, all cardinals were personally invited to present a confidential and sincere statement that would let the Pope know each one's reaction to the idea and to forward their individual suggestions for carrying out the plan. However the few who replied were very cold and formal.
This negative reaction was not at all unexpected. With the 1870 definition of Papal infallibility by Vatican I, the Papacy and consequently the Roman curia had reached a plateau. The concept of a pyramidal Church was strengthened and many never saw the need of a council for nothing of much importance could ever happen in Church, if it wasn't previously approved by Vatican officials. With more than 2,000 bishops gathered right at the heart of Catholicism, the situation could very easily be reversed.
During the 13th century, there emerged among Catholics what remained to be known in history as conciliarism, the view that regarded a general council of the Church as a superior authority to the Pope. The theory gained support especially in the 15th century but was refuted by Pius II's bull Execrabilis in which he described it as "an execrable, and in former ages unheard-of abuse".
In the light of all this and with the notions of fresh air and aggiornamento that Pope John himself was proposing for the Church, it would have been no surprise if some of the bishops would dream of reviving the 600-year-old concept. After all, various theologians had already been writing a lot about the collegiality of bishops, something that for many curialists was nothing more than the old heresy under a new name.
The cardinals must have also been especially surprised by the fact that the council was John XXIII's personal initiative. Three months earlier they had elected him Pius XII's successor at the old age of 77, with the specific intention of having a caretaker and transitional Pope, one who would keep the Chair of Peter warm until a more permanent candidate was elected.
Incidentally, during the same 1958 conclave which elected Angelo Roncalli as John XXIII, some members of the Sacred College had already shown their preference for the young Giovanni Battista Montini (later Pope Paul VI), even though he had not yet been created cardinal.
Strangely enough, this initial negative reaction against the council did not only come from those who in the Roman Curia were considered as conservative advocates of the status quo. The progressive Cardinal Giacomo Lercaro, archbishop of Bologna, who later became the architect of the council's liturgical reforms, was doubtful about the whole affair and questioned the Pope's decision, which he considered both rash and impulsive: "How dare he summon a council after just 100 years, and only three months after his election?" Even Montini, who was very soon to become first a keen supporter of the council and a while later, the very Pope who would guide it to a successful conclusion, had his own fears.
John XXIII already had quite a good idea what to expect. The idea of calling a council had already been considered twice during the 20th century, first in 1923 by Pius XI and after that in 1948 by Pius XII. For the latter, a very short council of three or four weeks would have been enough to reach its intended goals, namely to demonstrate the unity among Catholics who shortly before were driven apart by World War II; secondly to condemn the errors of modernism and Communism; and finally to define the dogma of the Assumption.
However the difficulties and opposition he had to face made him change his mind and he finally decided that there was nothing that a council could do that the Pope couldn't do better and more economically. So two years later he personally defined the dogma of the Assumption and condemned contemporary errors in his encyclical Humani Generis.
John XXIII knew that his time was short, much shorter than that of his predecessor, but he was not ready to let anyone discourage or dissuade him. Moreover he never intended his council to be of a defensive nature but one of renewal and reform; one that would be more practical than dogmatic, more pastoral than ideological; one that would offer directives for action rather than definitions.
During the two years of preparation for the council, through his various statements, he set out the significance of the event in its historical moment, examining the circumstances and the difficulties through which both the Church and the world were passing. The signs of the time were clear to read: humanity was on the threshold of a new era and the Church was being left dragging behind.
Ten commissions were entrusted with the task of studying the topics that might be treated. Secretariats were set up: one for the media; another for economic and technical aspects; and the third to help the separated Christian Churches to follow more closely the work being carried out by the Council Fathers. Besides, the Pope himself headed a central preparatory commission that would act as a co-ordinating body between the various other commissions and secretariats.
Then there was the matter of fixing a target date for the beginning of Vatican II. Some members of the Roman Curia were certain that at least ten years were necessary before the actual thing could start but Pope John requested that a date, not later than 1962, be set up. Eventually, being convinced that unless a specific day was established the preparatory commissions would never finish their work, the Pope announced that the council would open on October 11, 1962.
The duration of the council was another matter of extensive discussion. Cardinal Tardini, the Secretary of State, believed that if the preparatory commissions did a good job, the council would not have to last very long. In November 1961 Cardinal Felici told the Technical Organisational Commission that the Pope wished the council to start in October 1962 and to end, if possible, by the end of the year.
This announcement led to fears that everything was going to be conducted very hastily and that there would not be enough time for a free discussion. Ultimately, on May 12, 1962, the Pontiff calmed everyone's apprehension by remarking that free discussion would be allotted to all, for this was a basic requirement for the success of every council.
Good old John XXIII did live up to his promise, for during the first session of the council, over which he presided, there reigned a spirit of open and unrestricted discussion.
After his death in 1963, Paul VI continued along his predecessor's footsteps and eventually guided the Second Vatican Council until this was officially closed on December 8, 1965.
However by then the Catholic Church had discovered a new self-image, adopted a renewed attitude towards the world around her and had seriously discerned, as never before, the true nature of the mission that Christ had entrusted into the hands of each and every one of her members.
Next week's concluding article will examine the work carried out during the council.