In the mid-1950s I recall hearing Joseph Fichter, the prominent American sociologist and Jesuit, say off the cuff at a large gathering of Catholic sociologists in Belgium that there was no such thing as Catholicism. He substantiated his remark with words something like: ‘There’s American Catholicism, there’s French Catholicism, Italian Catholicism, and so on, but there’s no Catholicism.’

Until very recently the Catholic Church presented, to the outsider at least, a totally different picture. It was one of the Church being a monolithic structure, the biggest international organization of the world, the most uniform in policy and ideology, and the most efficient to run. Doubtless this image was deliberately encouraged by the hierarchy and by those of an Ultramontane outlook so that the world should see the Church in such terms. And if the image emerged by accident, the hierarchy made no effort to modify it. Emile Durkheim saw it in this fashion but for him it was not a glorious achievement but un monstre sociologique.’ A debating opponent, Abbé Hemmer, replied to Durkheim’s comment, which was also made off the cuff in an academic group, that the assertion proved the divine nature of the Church. It was divine because it was able to transcend sociological laws. The Church was thus a miracle or mystery as much in theological terms as in social reality. Durkheim’s judgment was hardly value-free. From the viewpoint of his unwavering commitment to something which approximated to humanism, the Catholic Church was a sociological monstrosity, in part due to its enormous size, but more importantly because it exerted controls over independent nations and tried to weld together diverse and perhaps hostile groups.