The Church in the Flesh

by  Ida Friederike Görres

Translated by Jennifer S. Bryson

Cluny Media LLC, Providence RI ( 2023) 

Ida Friederike Görres, a German Catholic writer and apologist well known in her day, slipped into undeserved obscurity after her death in 1971. In recent years devoted followers of hers like Hanna-Barbara Gerl-Falkovitz and Jennifer S. Bryson have labored to rescue Görres from oblivion. Jennifer Bryson maintains a  website that covers all things related to Görres, to which she has recently added a substack. Jennifer Bryson is also the translator of The Church in the Flesh (in other words, the Church incarnate, the “really existing” Church), a volume originally published in 1950. 

Now The Church in the Flesh differs from two works of Görres I have previously reviewed, which, consisting of diary entries or letters, commented on a wide range of literature, personalities and current events. 1)  The Church in the Flesh, in contrast, is a more integrated,  theological presentation –  an apologia of the Catholic Church as she concretely exists.   But Görres seeks to link this description and defense of the Church to the subjective spiritual life of the believer. She employs more concrete, conversational,  and emotional language then one would encounter in a neo-scholastic treatise on the subject. In a sense, The Church in the Flesh is also a work of Catholic spirituality

The Church in the Flesh takes the form of letters addressed to (fictitious?) correspondents.  Görres’s dialogue partners present objections to – or at least raise doubts regarding – the Catholic Church to which Görres responds at length. The criticisms of her correspondents are not those of a theologian or philosopher but platitudes one commonly encounters in the news media or educational establishments in 1950 and today. So, for example, the chapter “The Nuisance of Morality” deals with the claim that the Church is reducible to a system of morality and, simultaneously,  with the opposite position: that the Church has nothing to do with morality. Long ago I heard the first statement solemnly uttered by a representative of a much older generation; the second, of course, is something we hear now every day. So, the questions Görres addresses remain relevant.

Görres emphasizes that the Church is not a disembodied idea or “religious concept” but a concrete reality. “The Church has always understood herself to be historical, that is, to exist in time and space.”  And that is because the Church is an extension of Christ, both God and Man. In the incarnation, God really entered our world. So we have to deal with Him here from now on:

with the traces and witnesses, the memories and attempts of this long-standing interaction with Him – you see, this life and its visible manifestation are what we call the Church. (p.15)

Thus, a believer’s relation to the Church is also his relationship with Christ. 

The Church has not deviated from an allegedly perfect “Early Church” but has developed from it. Görres argues for the role of tradition,  drawing heavily on Cardinal Newman’s thought on the development of doctrine. Tradition is a support for the believer  – but it also includes development. And one cannot absolutize any given era in the Church’s history. 

In the chapter “Church of the Saints “ Görres writes perhaps the most eloquent and passionate pages of this book. For hagiography was her profession.  Why does she write books on the saints? They are not, after all, necessarily perfect. 

Yes! For me, the saint is the most important person, not only in the Church. The saint is the most important person on the world because the saint is the decisive answer to the big riddle: What is a human being? … Humans are beings who can already partake of God’s holiness in this mammalian body, in this so widely explorable, transparent, predictable soul, in the midst of this world: visible, verifiable, real.  The human is created and called to be perfected in such holiness and to exist in it for eternity. (p. 184)

Throughout this book Görres writes of “the Church” being this or “the Church” teaching that. The Church, in her institutions, practices and doctrine, appears as a uniform, coherent bloc. This is entirely typical of the self-understanding and self-presentation of the Church in that period. Today, of course, we can hardly think of any teaching or aspect of the Church that is not questioned or outright rejected by a party within the institutional Church itself. Today the Catholic can no longer state baldly “the Church” teaches or does this or that without specifying who in the Church teaches or does it.

Görres sets out an extremely “conservative”  (in other words, limited) explanation of papal infallibility – quite different from ideas of some Church circles in that day or what is asserted now for Pope Francis. She indeed wishes to deemphasize the Catholic fixation on this doctrine. Instead, she speaks warmly of the infallible “ordinary magisterium” of the universal Church.(pp. 88-89)

Curiously, while emphasizing the living presence of Christ in the Church, Görres devotes relatively few pages to the liturgy. There are exceptions -such as the following eloquent passages on the witness of the liturgy to the reality and necessity of the personal spiritual struggle:

The liturgy is also full of evidence of this struggle(against the devil – SC). Every baptism begins with an exorcism. demands the solemn renunciation, of the Devil. his works, his splendor. …The Holy Mass , the memory of the Lord’s Death, brings before our eyes the terrible seriousness of this struggle, its final consequences, and the cost of this victory, and even over the coffin of a person we beseech God that it would please Him to deliver at the gates of hell the soul that He has recalled.

Have you ever taken part in the wonderful rite of the consecration of water [for the baptismal font] on Holy Saturday where the “water, a creature,” the eloquent symbol of everything elemental,  unsubdued, of the netherworld in and outside of man, is taken into consideration and is called to be a means for his rebirth.

The cult of the martyrs, the oldest cult of saints in the Church, the veneration of the Holy Cross, the whole Good Friday liturgy, mean exactly the same thing as the sacrament of the Eucharist on every weekday: the Church knows that the victory of God in this world is only visible by exception; that it must time and time again take place the form of destruction, in the testimony of defeat.

(pp. 174-175. Of course, these examples are taken from the traditional liturgy!)

Towards the end of this book, Görres makes an extraordinarily perceptive observation in critiquing a somewhat esoteric spiritual temptation of some contemporary Catholic writers. Their characters refused the support and consolation of the spiritual treasures offered to them by the Church and elected to “go it alone” and rely on their own spiritual experience.

In his War Journals, Ernst Jünger makes this very fitting remark: “Property is considered suspect not only by outside observers, by the disinherited; it becomes suspect, even burdensome and boring, from within, for the owners themselves…  Possessions require the strength to possess…. (p. 203) 2)

Görres applies this profound insight to a problem of personal spirituality,  but does it not also perfectly describe one of the main (unspoken) psychological motivations of Vatican II and its aftermath? The mania for simplification in the liturgy, the abandonment of fasting and other ascetical practices, the jettisoning by the religious of their habits and rules, the scorning of traditional ecclesiastical art– had not all these spiritual “possessions” or “inherited wealth”  (Görres’s phrase) become dubious – too burdensome, too boring, to hold on to –  at least in the minds of the clergy and religious? 

Yet Görres’s defense of the Church as she concretely exists is not at all unqualified. She writes of internal conflicts, of failings, even of spiritual decline. The criticisms of Görres have a certain vagueness and lack of specificity. Yet we can discern the beginnings of  lines of thought that would later be used to justify radical change in the Church.3)

For example, at the very beginning of this book, Görres gives us a kind of “parable” which I quote at length:

[W]hen I ask converts what the first noticeable reason was for their turning to the Church, their answer almost always mentions one of the things that you summarized in exasperation (I already know what you meant!) under the word “knickknacks“: the impression from a Mass, the sight of penitents waiting in front of the confessional,  a procession,  the chance participation in a Catholic funeral, a Marian devotion in May, a stay in the hospital under the care of Catholic sisters, a visit to a monastery – in short,  an encounter with precisely that visible, tangible element of the Church that so many of her own children call burdens and embarrassments and even view as objectionable.  4)

On the other hand,  when I asked a French worker-priest from that bold vanguard of the Paris Mission what actually prevents the majority of workers from believing,  whether it is the dogmas,  the strictness of Catholic moral demands …. (He said) ”Oh no, that’s all too complicated, too fundamental; the external manifestation of the Church as she is, that is the big obstacle.” 5)

There is room for both statements; both concern us.“ (Pp. 3-4)

The author seems to regard this asserted dualism with a certain ambivalence. The external manifestations of if the Church are both an attraction – at least for outsiders – and a stumbling block for “so many of her own children.”  But is not this comparison weighted?  The layman (especially the convert!), captivated by so-called externals, is contrasted with the “bold” clergy who reject them in favor of direct communication and social action. In the 1960’s, of course, the clergy would wage war upon these “externals” and would feel empowered to forcefully enlighten the benighted laity attached to them. One is reminded of the insights of Fr. Bryan Houghton on this very subject.6)

In The Church in the Flesh Ida Görres undertook to justify the Church to “modern man” utilizing fresh language and concepts.  As always, her work is studded with brilliant observations and beautiful passages. At the same time, we can discern ideas, if only in inchoate form, that later became the dogmas of a future Catholic revolution. Indeed, some  of the criticisms Görres addressed in this book are today routinely restated by those holding the highest offices in the Church herself!  But these were future developments which Görres herself would be unable to support. In dealing with “timeless” issues raised by the Church’s presence in the world, The Church in the Flesh remains a valuable resource –  and also an intriguing witness to a particular moment in the history of the Church. 

1.  Broken Lights: Diaries and Letters 1951-1959 (1964); „Wirklich die neue Phönixgestalt?”  Über Kirche und Konzil: Unbekannte Briefe 1962-1971 an Paulus Gordan (2015)
2. The translation of Jünger’s diary quoted in The Church in the Flesh omits several words, which obscures the meaning of what he  – and Görres –  are saying. See Jünger, Ernst, Strahlungen II, at 276 (Ernst Klett Verlag, Stuttgart, 1949). I have taken the liberty of amending part of this quote.
3. Coincidentally or not, in the immediate post-World War II period, another female German Catholic author, Gertrud von Le Fort, was also creating  a minor uproar with her 1946 novel The Wreath of the Angels.  It set forth a precursor of the moral philosophy we have since seen expounded in Amoris Laetitia.
4. This recitation of aspects of Catholicism resembles certain statements of Simone Weil (for whom Görres later expressed dislike).
5. The “worker-priest” movement would experience grave conflicts with the Vatican beginning shortly after the publication of this book. 
6. Especially Judith’s Marriage (published in 1987,  but describing the Catholic world from the 1950’s to 1968) (Angelico Press, Brooklyn, N.Y. 2020)