I don’t think that there ever has been a solemn, ecclesiastical definition of the doctrine of fallibility. You know why? There’s no need to.
As anyone with even half a grain of common sense knows, human beings are fallible.
That means that they can be deceived or make mistakes or fall into error or do something wrong (in traditional religious terms, they can sin).
I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude or offensive, but you are fallible. And, to be perfectly (?) honest, I’m fallible, too. You might say, it’s part of the human condition.
Don’t be unnecessarily ashamed! It’s the way God made us, so to speak. It’s the nature of a created being, It means we all have limitations, we all are less than perfect.
Yes. Even you. Even me.
I remember this being discussed in a Theology class years ago. The teaching was that, except for a special act and provision of God, no human person has been, is, or can be without sin.
Has there ever been a “dispensation from fallibility” for a human person? Yes!
– Mary, the mother of Jesus: By a special dispensation of God, she was born even without “original sin” and by the grace of God never sinned during her whole life. (Doctrine of the Immaculate Conception.)
– The Bishop of Rome: If and when he speaks ex cathedra, in the fullness of his authority as successor of Peter and head of the church regarding matters of doctrine, he cannot lead the people of God astray. (Doctrine of Papal Infallibility.)
Many people would not agree about such dispensation or even think in such categories. Generally, we accept that human beings, being limited and therefore less than perfect, are fallible.
But, oh how shocked we sometimes can become in denouncing another’s failures!
All throughout human history, because we know about human fallibility, there have been social structures designed to moderate or react to the damage it can cause.
Training, apprenticeships, compulsory schooling, accreditations—rules, regulations, decrees, laws, judicial decisions, edicts, constitutions—legal punishments, classifications, competitions, disputes—they’re all needed in a world of fallible people, no matter how high their ideals and standards may be.
It really is hypocritical when puffed up with “righteous” indignation, we profess shock or surprised dismay by the failings of another. Failings are part of the nature of people.
Rather than entertain ourselves with the failings of others (which we often do), our challenge as fallible persons is how best to react to the manifestations of their fallibility.
All of our training, restraining, and punishing social structures are not enough. We also, each and all, need to have and bring to the table personal understanding (insight into what makes the other person tick), compassion (empathy for a fellow fallible), forgiveness (not forgetting, but remembering that failing is part of “doing what comes naturally”), and love (pardoning, empowering, and revitalizing).
There’s an incident near the end of Jesus’ life that his followers know well yet often forget:
When he was being crucified, so were two others—criminals. One mocked Jesus; the other asked to be remembered when he came into his kingdom. Jesus’ response to this very fallible thief was: “Today you will be with me in paradise.”
21 February 2021