The cleverness of purposed ambiguity is to be found anywhere and everywhere in Amoris laetitia. Finding the cleverness of purposed ambiguity in Amoris laetitia is like trying to find a drop in the ocean (to paraphrase Thomas More speaking about the works of Tyndale).
To call this a “linguistic event” is spot on. Throughout my years at the Jesuit Pontifical Biblical Institute both in Jerusalem and Rome, where I received the tools to spot the cleverness of purposed ambiguity in the works of ideological commentators, I have never seen anything so very purposed in its ambiguity. It seems that every page, every paragraph, every sentence, every phrase, every “and” and “the” is all the cleverness of purposed ambiguity.
Seriously, the ghost writers take the prize in the history of literature for purposed ambiguity. Hats off to them. Amazing. They are so good at it that everyone, those with no training at all, can also see at least some of the purposed ambiguity. A linguistic event, indeed!
Having said that, those accolades are all they get as a reward. Purposed ambiguity only sets up horrific divisions and rancor among the clergy and, then, among the laity whom they serve, one this way, one another way. Such a disservice.
By the way, the Truth is a living Person, who is also the Way and the Life, who will come to judge the living and the dead and the world by fire. Amen.