Christ's Grace of Headship (Gratia Capitis)

In connection with Christ’s fullness of grace, theologians customarily raise three questions: when was that fullness infused into His human soul? Was His soul also endowed with the theological and moral virtues? And — the most important question of all — what is meant by the “grace of headship” (gratia capitis)?

When Was the Fullness of Grace Infused?

All theologians agree that, since the fullness of sanctifying grace was already included in the “grace of union,” the accidental sanctification of Christ’s soul must have coincided exactly with the moment of the Hypostatic Union — the instant of His conception.¹ Even St. Bonaventure, who holds the peculiar view that the state of grace was a “preparation” for, rather than an effect of, the Hypostatic Union, does not dissent from this timing. Whether preparation or effect, unless the “fullness of grace” was, from the very first instant, a relatively infinite quantity incapable of increase, we would be forced into the absurd conclusion that the Hypostatic Union exercised a stronger influence on Christ’s soul later in life than at His conception.

This gives us the key to Luke 2:52: “And Jesus advanced in wisdom, and age, and grace with God and men.” One who from the very beginning possessed the fullness of created grace could not advance in interior holiness — Christ was equally holy as an infant and as a grown man. His practice of virtue, then, could not merit any increase of sanctifying grace for Himself, as it does for us, but only greater extrinsic glory for Himself and further favors for us. The Fathers and theologians read His advance in “wisdom and grace” not as an increase in sanctifying grace but as its outward manifestation.² Why, then, does Scripture say He advanced in wisdom and grace “with God” as well as with men? Because the works of wisdom He performed, and His faithful cooperation with actual grace — by which His holiness became gradually manifest to those around Him — were themselves meritorious and pleasing in God’s sight.

Did Christ Possess the Theological and Moral Virtues?

In the ordinary process of justification, the infusion of sanctifying grace comes together with other supernatural gifts — the three theological virtues and the moral virtues, together with the seven gifts of the Holy Ghost. It would be wrong, however, to think Christ’s soul possessed these in the same way we do, merely more perfectly. Christ’s soul, by virtue of the Hypostatic Union, stands in a class entirely its own.

Of the theological virtues, Christ certainly possessed charity — but not faith or hope. There was no room in His soul for faith, since He already enjoyed the beatific vision: “Christ, from the first instant of His conception, saw God fully through His essence,” says St. Thomas, “and through this beatific vision He also perceived all supernatural things with perfect clarity; hence faith could not exist in Him.”³ Nor could He exercise hope, since the actual possession of the beatific vision makes theological hope useless, indeed impossible — one cannot hope for what one already has. Only with respect to gifts He did not yet possess — His glorification through Resurrection and Ascension — could Christ be said to exercise something like hope.⁴

Of the infused moral virtues, Christ plainly could not have practiced repentance, since repentance presupposes forgiveness of sin, and He had no sins to forgive — being wholly sinless and impeccable in both natures. As for the remaining moral virtues, the common theological opinion holds that Jesus possessed them all, both natural and supernatural — the natural virtues too, since they perfect human nature, and no ideal man is conceivable without them.

It is a matter of faith that Christ’s soul possessed the seven gifts of the Holy Ghost, though “godliness” in Him was not the servile fear of a slave but the filial reverence a good son bears his father. “And the Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him: the spirit of wisdom, and of understanding, the spirit of counsel, and of fortitude, the spirit of knowledge, and of godliness; and he shall be filled with the spirit of the fear of the Lord” (Isaiah 11:2-3).⁵

The Grace of Headship

Through the Hypostatic Union, Christ received not only the fullness of grace for Himself personally, but also the gratia capitis — natural and supernatural headship over all creatures.

Christ is “full of grace and truth,” and “of his fulness we have all received” (John 1:14, 16). From the grace of union flows, quite naturally, the grace of headship, by which our Lord is the natural and supernatural Head of fallen men, of the angels, indeed of all rational creatures, and even of inanimate nature.⁶ Wherever there is a head, there must be members forming one organism. St. Thomas distinguishes two aspects of the head-body relationship: distinction and conformity.⁷ Under distinction, the head differs from the members by dignity (as sole possessor of the five senses), by government (as ruler of the whole organism), and by causality (the vital influence it exerts over the whole body). Under conformity, the head shares with the body a unity of nature (head and members being homogeneous), a unity of order (connecting members to head and regulating their functions), and a unity of continuity (the head being fully joined to its members). Both sets of relations imply each other: the head’s dignity presupposes homogeneous members from among whom it stands out; its rule presupposes members ordered wisely toward one another; and its influence presupposes the organic continuity through which vital fluids circulate. This is a Scriptural image. Let us apply it to the God-man.

Head of the Church

As God, Christ is Lord rather than Head of His creatures. As man, He is first and above all Head of His Church, which — in Suarez’s words — “consists of men, partly militant here on earth, partly triumphant in Heaven.”⁸ This is an article of faith, clearly stated throughout St. Paul’s letters: “And he hath subjected all things under his feet, and hath made him head over all the Church, which is his body” (Ephesians 1:22-23); “And he is the head of the body, the church, who is the beginning, the first-born from the dead; that in all things he may hold the primacy” (Colossians 1:18). Christ is mystic Head of the human race and His Church in three ways: as the most perfect man conceivable, He excels all others in infinite dignity and so is Head of humanity in a higher sense even than Adam;⁹ by the Hypostatic Union He is by nature King of kings and Lord of lords, ruler of all men; and He is pre-eminently our Head by the supernatural influence He exercises over those actually or potentially united to Him as members of His mystical body.¹⁰

To determine the true Church’s extent, theologians commonly distinguish actual from potential membership. All are in vital communion with Christ as Head who are actually united to Him by the light of glory,¹¹ by sanctifying grace, or at least by interior faith — the elect in Heaven, the souls in Purgatory, and all just or believing persons on earth, these four classes together constituting the Church. The blessed in Heaven behold Him in His transfigured humanity, hidden from the faithful on earth under the Eucharistic species.¹² He works in all through faith or charity, binding the members of the Church militant, suffering, and triumphant into one mystical body — the Communion of Saints.¹³

Theologians are unanimous this far, but differ on the exact boundary between actual and merely potential membership. Apostates and open heretics cannot be actual members, having voluntarily severed their connection to the mystic Head. Covert heretics are more disputed — Suarez says no, Bellarmine says yes.¹⁴ Regarding the heathen, theologians generally agree they belong to the Church potentially, since Christ died for them too and they receive actual graces through His merits despite lacking true faith. Even unborn infants are potential members, brought under Christ’s influence at least mediately through their parents’ prayers and the Church’s own. Christ cannot, however, be called Head of the reprobate in hell — He is their rigorous Lord and avenging Judge, but not their Head, since, irrevocably cut off from His mystic body, they can no longer be His members.

Theologians dispute whether Christ was Head of the human race even in Paradise before the Fall — the Thomists deny it,¹⁵ the Scotists and Suarez affirm it, absolutely or hypothetically according to their differing views on the predestination of the Incarnation (a question belonging properly to Soteriology).¹⁶

Head of the Angels?

Whether Christ, by the grace of headship, is also Head of the angels is answered negatively by some Fathers and Scholastics, who hold that Christ’s manhood and the angelic spirits lack the homogeneity of nature and the influence of grace that a true supernatural headship requires — since Christ became incarnate for man’s sake alone, they argue, the graces He merited apply only to men, the angels’ own state of grace and glory being a separate, gratuitous gift of the Trinity.¹⁷ Billuart, whom Pohle is inclined to follow, judges it little short of rash to deny that the God-man is, in some sense, Head of the angelic hosts too: “That Christ is Head of the angels in some way — say, as regards external governance, just as the Pope is called Head of the Church — cannot, it seems, be denied without error, both because of the plain testimony of Scripture and the Fathers, and because to deny it would be to deny that Christ is Prince and Lord of the angels and of the whole Church triumphant, which consists of both men and angels.”¹⁸

Christ’s headship over the angels can in fact be shown by three arguments. First, by dignity: He is Head not only of men but of all creatures, who as such owe Him homage, obedience, and adoration — “And again, when he bringeth in the first begotten into the world, he saith: And let all the angels of God adore him” (Hebrews 1:6). Second, since the more perfect naturally rules the less perfect, the angels are subject to Christ even as man: the infernal spirits serve Him in trembling rage, while the blessed angels gladly do His bidding, proud to acknowledge Him as Ruler and Lord — “And behold angels came and ministered to him” (Matthew 4:11).

Whether Christ is Head of the angels in the third sense — as source of grace — is harder to settle, and theologians disagree. One school, following Scotus, holds that all graces without exception, including those given to the angels, are attributable to Christ and His merits. Another, led by St. Thomas, defines Christ’s grace purely as redemptive grace, in which the angels have no share. But even on the Thomist view, Christ retains such far-reaching accidental influence over the angels that He can still be called their Head: even without having merited their full state of grace and glory, He could still communicate to them an accidental increase of light and joy from the infinite treasury of His grace — when the angelic intellect turns toward the luminous soul of the God-man, it is flooded with light and enriched with understanding, independent of the Pseudo-Dionysian theory of the angels’ three “hierarchic acts” (illumination, purification, perfection).¹⁹ Since the angels, unlike men, do not share Christ’s species, De Lugo locates the ultimate ground of His headship over them in His twofold prerogative of infinite dignity and supreme dominion.²⁰

Lord, Rather Than Head, of the Material Universe

As for the material universe, Christ’s infinite dignity and supreme dominion undoubtedly give Him a natural claim to rule as “the firstborn of every creature,” holding primacy over the whole of it. But since “headship” properly connotes a certain willingness and docility on the part of the members, it is more fitting to call Christ Lord, rather than Head, of material creation — and the same holds of His relation to the demons and the damned: their Lord, not their Head, since the demons, being rational, refuse to obey Him, while irrational matter, lacking reason altogether, cannot obey Him in any proper sense — both serve Him only under compulsion.

Some theologians hold that Christ’s humanity exercises a direct physical influence over all creation without exception, but this rests on false premises and is philosophically untenable. As Suarez rightly observes, “this does not pertain to the dignity of the assumed humanity, nor is it necessary to manifest the name of Christ.”²¹ It suffices to say that Christ, as man, ranks infinitely above the created universe, and that all creatures are subject to Him and must do His bidding: “The winds and the sea obey him” (Matthew 8:27).

Further Reading

Bougaud-Currie, The Divinity of Christ, pp. 66 sqq., New York 1906 — L. Atzberger, Die Unsündlichkeit Christi, Munich 1883 — K. Hennemann, Die Heiligkeit Jesu als Beweis seiner Gottheit, Würzburg 1898 — Wilhelm-Scannell, A Manual of Catholic Theology, Vol. II, pp. 149 sqq., 2nd ed., London 1901 — W. Humphrey, The One Mediator, pp. 238 sqq., London, n.d. — On the gratia capitis specifically: St. Thomas, Summa Theologiae, 3a, qu. 8; L. Janssens, De Deo-Homine, Vol. I, pp. 374 sqq.; Franzelin, De Verbo Incarnato, thes. 41; Stentrup, Soteriologia, thes. 169 sqq.

Notes