For me, the distinction adopted by Emmanuel Mounier (and, in substance, also by Jacques Maritain) between “Christianity” and the “Christian world” provided an effective intellectual framework within which these hopes for renewal could be acknowledged and dealt with. It was a question of liberating the Gospel from more or less outmoded sociological, pastoral, and liturgical forms so as to give it the best possible chance of success in a world calling for new forms, new expressions, and new structures.

In a few short weeks John XXIII created a new climate in the church, and then came the council.2 This most significant breakthrough came from on high. All of a sudden, forces for renewal which had scarcely had room to breathe found ways to be expressed.

The cautious suggestions for reform mentioned in my text of 19503 have been surpassed by far. What is happening right now, insofar as it is positive, is certainly in line with what I had intended, yet it goes a great deal further, well beyond what one could have hoped for in 1950. Liturgical reform is still in full swing, parish and pastoral councils (with lay participation) are being formed, and there is a restoration of what one could call the conciliar life of the church (the Synod of Bishops, episcopal conferences, diocesan synods, etc.). Further, research in the area of religious studies is being officially
encouraged, as well as research about and the first steps toward a new program for the
formation of the clergy, etc.

On the whole, despite some unfortunate exceptions, theologians now enjoy the freedom that they need for their research and writing. But more than anything, two great changes already characterize the climate within the church and will continue to do so more and more: an ecclesiology based on the “People of God” and ecumenism

But I have not yet finished pointing out the consequences of the ecclesiological initiatives of Vatican II. The council transcended a purely “hierarchy-centered” ecclesiology and it denounced legalism (without, of course, proposing ignorance of law!).

It gave primacy to an ontology of grace rooted in the sacraments, and primacy as well to baptism with respect to all other roles in the church as a society of persons. The council adopted an apostolic, rather than a primarily ritual, understanding of the priesthood, giving full value to the place of the Word and to catechesis; and it recognized charisms and the variety of ministries in the church, etc.

As for ecumenism, it has become or is on the way to becoming a dimension that touches the church’s entire life, even its internal concerns.4 This change of perspective will entail reinterpretation, opening and broadening out our thinking to a degree that we cannot at present measure. But this link between ecumenism and the spirit of renewal, which I perceived and emphasized from the beginning, is equally apparent now from the other side; renewal is not only required by ecumenism as a sort of prelude, but renewal is also nourished by ecumenism.

Just as the ecclesial climate is new today, so also is our way of posing questions. We now proceed more by addition and deepening than by substituting new data for traditional sources. Our questions are still questions about adaptation, but they have become more radical, not only because they are more difficult, more rigorous, and more urgent, but also because they are posed today in a way that touches the very roots of the church and its faith.

Although we functioned in 1947-1950 on the basis of and within the framework of a solid Catholic structure, today we are intellectually and culturally torn out of a Catholic framework, perhaps even out of a religious framework, and thrown into a world which, by its vitality and its innovation, imposes its problems upon us. The study of the history of ecclesiological doctrines which I pursued for thirteen or fourteen years made me realize that one’s sense of the church depends, in a decisive way, upon one’s sense of the world and of the relationship one sees between church and world. Here we have the problematic relation between the “two powers” and their characteristic confrontation, which has in large part determined the prevailing concept of
“church” as authority and power. The temporal power had to become fully “lay,” and the church had to acknowledge that lay character fully for the church to be able to
understand itself and define itself purely as “church.”

Thank heavens, the Catholic Church didn’t define itself until Vatican II, after all the often violent confrontations between it and temporal society had been more or less put to rest. Furthermore, in defining itself, the church benefited from a retrieval of rich biblical sources as they reemerged formally and frankly for the first time since the Middle Ages. In the end, the church has adopted a new way of understanding the temporal order in keeping with the real situation of the world.5

There is no longer really a question of “two powers.” Certain questions are still posed in those terms, but they are decidedly of little and perhaps narrow concern when one considers what “the temporal” represents today for the consciousness of Christians. At issue now is the question of how to grasp the world and its history in their full dimensions, their full significance, with all their dynamism and all their problems.
Temporality has to do with the determination of Christians to exercise their
responsibilities in building up the world with a view toward the kingdom of God.
You don’t need to go as far as inferring that an interest in the world represents a
betrayal of the faith in order to
recognize that our period in history can be characterized by a genuine discovery of the
world by Christians. This discovery is accompanied by a shock of awareness, grasped
often only in general terms, that Christians have new responsibilities for the world. In
making such a transition, what pertains to the world may feel as though it has an
importance, an immediacy and a relevance that outweigh the claims of the faith and the
affairs of the church. While wanting to remain faithful Christians, we nonetheless find
that the world, not the church, sets the agenda. The world poses challenging questions
with respect to the faith’s claims and goals.