#416: The Pope Leads—Will the Bishops Follow?

The U.S. Bishops are at a fork in the road—is it splitting them up?

A little more than one year since the election of Pope Francis, many things have changed--but perhaps too many things have stayed the same.

Two weekends ago I completed four sessions of a parish retreat on “The Francis Effect.” Many participants expressed the feeling that the experience filled them with hope, which made me appreciate just how powerful the new pope’s impact has been.  After a decade-long decline in the public image and reputation of the Catholic Church, Francis has accomplished a dramatic turnaround.  Little more than a year ago the Church’s public standing was the lowest it had been since before Vatican Council II (1962-1965).  Now its standing is at its highest point in nearly 50 years--that is, since the time of the Council itself.

Francis has accomplished this by calling for and initiating a change in church culture, but others must follow suit and lead at the national and local levels.  A change of the top will mean nothing if it does not “trickle down.”

Francis himself has been very clear about what this change requires if we are to create a truly missionary spirit in the Church (see CrossCurrents #408 and #409 in the archives).

But events of the last few weeks suggest that if Francis has brought us to a fork in the road, only some of the U.S. Bishops are going his way.  Three recent events suggest that while some bishops take Francis’ mandate to heart, others are struggling to grasp it or are even continuing on their own course.

Following Francis: John L. Allen Jr.’s recent Boston Globe piece detailed how Boston’s Cardinal Sean O’Malley and 8 other bishops staged a three day visit to the U.S.-Mexican border to urge reform of the “broken” U.S. immigration system.

In this they are, of course, following the footsteps and priorities of Francis, by putting their focus on the poor and the social injustices of current public policy.

Calling O’Malley “the American Francis,” Allen asserts: “the Catholic push for immigrant rights already had its global ambassador in Francis, and now it has found a domestic face in O’Malley.”

O’Malley and his fellow bishops celebrated Mass (distributing Communion “to outstretched hands from the Mexican side of the border through slats in eight 20-foot-high security fence”), held a news conference on immigration reform, and visited and interviewed people on both sides of the border.

Allen sees in all this “the emergence of immigration reform as a top shelf Catholic concern”--but he also hints that O’Malley &Company are not typical of the U.S. hierarchy is a whole:

In terms of church politics, one could perhaps style the other prelates who made up the delegation as well-meaning social justice types who don’t really flex much muscle in the Church.  That’s why O’Malley’s presence was vital, because nobody would say that about him.

This invites the inference that, among other bishops who do “flex much muscle” in the Church, immigration reform may not have the same priority, and that this was reflected by their absence.  This echoes a quiet theme running beneath the surface ever since Francis was elected: while Francis immediately became admired and beloved by people everywhere, he may not have enjoyed the same kind of enthusiastic support from all his bishops

That surely seemed possible in the case of Archbishop Wilton Gregory of Atlanta, who finally succumbed to popular pressure and announced he would leave his brand spanking new $2.2 million mansion after just three months, sell it, and donate the proceeds to charity.  He publicly apologized for the decision to move in but declined to take questions.

This case offers clear evidence that the people “get” Francis more easily than many of his bishops.  Gregory’s apology followed strong public pressure to give up the mansion from parishioners were well aware of the pope’s call to reject the “idolatry of money” and avoid “insidious worldliness” within the Church.  One such parishioner put the pope’s cause bluntly:

He [Gregory] is the person we follow locally, he sets the mood.  He sets the example for all of us to follow.  If he is choosing to use a gift so personally, what does that tell the people sitting in the pews?

Gregory himself acknowledged the impact of Francis by saying:

He’s called us to live more simply.  He also has encouraged Bishops to grow closer to their people, to listen to their people.

The key difference, of course, is that while laypeople got the message in the first week of Francis’ papacy, it took Gregory more than a year.

But even that is too quick for some bishops, it appears, for that same week in early April also included a story out of Ohio that sounded so 2012, so pre-Francis.

The Archdiocese of Cincinnati, it seems, has added new contract language that spells out specific ways teachers in Archdiocesan schools could lose their jobs.  The list includes public support for positions contrary to the church teaching on issues like abortion, artificial insemination, and “homosexual lifestyles.” It also includes forbidden behaviors--such as unwed pregnancies.

It appears the new language is designed to protect the Diocese from wrongful termination lawsuits, and a diocesan spokesperson attempted to minimize its significance by saying that it merely “clarifies what is expected of all of our teachers.” This comes in the wake of several lawsuits that the Diocese lost in recent years.

On the one hand, it is understandable that the Church, functioning as an employer, would want to protect itself from liability.  On the other hand, it appears that no other U.S. diocese uses such language. 

Of course, the problem of exposure to wrongful termination only arises when employees are terminated.  So this begs the question: must someone who voices an opinion contrary to official teaching be terminated?  Must someone who becomes pregnant while unmarried be terminated?

My own impression is that the instinct to terminate in such instances represents the kind of judgmentalism that Francis has been preaching against.  Underlying such judgmentalism is the notion that church workers ought to be perfect in both their opinions and their behavior.  There are several problems of this outlook.

First, it is contrary to church teaching to require that anyone be, in practice, perfect.  Our common expectation, rather, is that we are all sinners, and therefore we must be prepared to forgive and accept one another.  Since the beginning of Christianity, the real standard it has been: “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.”

Second, some would argue that this is not about sin but about scandal: that teachers taking a controversial positions or caught in compromise behavior create a scandal that undermines church teaching and credibility.

Two points here: contemporary American culture is not so easily scandalized (e.g., unwed pregnancy has long since lost its stigma), and the institutional church risks inviting the label “hypocrisy” if it sets itself as the arbiter of scandal in the wake of the sex abuse crisis.  Simply put, the American hierarchy abdicated the moral high ground long ago.

Third, there is a long history of those taking issue with church officials being vindicated in the long run.

In the 13^th century, Etienne Tempier, the Bishop of Paris, issued condemnations of more than a dozen teachings by one of his professors at the University of Paris, which at that time was a church-owned school (thus the professor was a church employee). 

The professor in question?  Saint Thomas Aquinas, who in 1879 was declared the Church’s “official” theologian.  Bishop Tempier disappeared into the obscurity of history, while Aquinas achieved greatness. 

The lesson: conformity to official church positions does not guarantee of either greatness or sanctity, and opposition does not prove the opposite.  Imagine if the Diocese of Paris had acted to fire Thomas Aquinas for his positions!

The spokesperson for the Archdiocese of Cincinnati tried to defend the new contract by saying:

The contract requires that if you’re going to represent the Catholic Church as a teacher, you’re not going to publicly oppose the teachings of the Catholic Church.

 Sounds perfectly logical. But that logic has not governed our history. Someone should get the man a good history of Catholicism--one that includes the 13^th century.

It remains to be seen if the U.S. hierarchy will wholeheartedly join Pope Francis as he sets a new course for the Church as a missionary presence in the world.  But those who choose their own path, and continue to present the institutional church as authoritarian, judgmental, and hypocritical, will end up being neither followers nor leaders.

  © Bernard  F. Swain PhD 2014

#400: Who’s YOUR Wisdom Figure?

The 50^th anniversary of the 1963 March on Washington triggered a remarkable array of commentaries from all angles.

Many naturally focused on Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech, some specifically singling out his vision of an America where character counts more than color.

Some argued that we should also remember that other leaders, like A. Philip Randolph, were also major figures in that event. Some sought to remind us that the event’s prime focus was not only racial equality but rather “jobs and freedom.” Some commented that the March’s call for greater rights and opportunity has relevance today, beyond the African-American community, for immigrants, gays, undocumented workers, and those suffering from our current economic malaise. Some, finally, reminded us that King’s vision later widened beyond civil rights to embrace non-violence in all its forms—including his controversial opposition to the war in Vietnam and his call for a non-violent spiritual revolution.

But amid this array of remembrance and interpretation one thing seems clear. The March on Washington, not just for those attending or viewing on TV, but for those who learned about it later, established Martin Luther King as one of the great—if not the greatest—wisdom figures in American life.

He is not alone:  Americans find wisdom in Thomas Jefferson, Abraham Lincoln, Susan B. Anthony, and others. But for at least 45 years (since his April 1968 assassination) King has stood out. He is now the only American honored with his own national holiday. His letters and speeches are treasured by millions and studied in schools across the land. His face is as well-known as any American in history, and his memorial on the National Mall is a rare honor for a non-president. His “I Have a Dream” speech—much of it improvised in a moment of inspiration—is often regarded as the greatest American speech of the 20th century.

King’s iconic status means that people admire him even if they know little about him. It means they are inspired by what they do know of his vision and values. It means they conform their vision of America—and of life—to his. It means that King’s opinions and convictions are largely beyond scrutiny and criticism for millions. In a secular society not given to devotion, he is venerated as former ages venerated saints.

In this he shares a rare popular status accorded very few individuals in the modern world. In Western culture, such iconic status is reserved for those who wield wisdom rather than power. Heads of state, generals, and corporate giants do not acquire such status. It goes instead to people like Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Albert Schweitzer, Dorothy Day, Oscar Romero, and Martin Luther King.

For me this raises a point of personal curiosity. As we observe the March’s 50^th anniversary, I wonder: Who are the wisdom figures in each of our lives?

I ask this question for myself and my own generation, but especially for my children’s generation. And I ask for two reasons.

First, because any life without wisdom cannot be fully lived. The mystery of life is too complex and rich to savor without some insight into its true meaning and value. And few humans possess the personal tools to plumb that mystery alone, without the help of others. The “examined life” is not a solo performance. We need wisdom figures just to appreciate our own lives. So we turn to those who inspire us with insights that surpass our own.

Second, I ask because our times demand wisdom more than ever. Vatican Council II (1962-1965) absolutely nailed our current challenge when it observed that the human race had never acquired so much new power so fast as it had in the 20^th century. And it reminded us that such vast growth in power requires a parallel growth in wisdom. For only wisdom can harness power and steer it toward good; without wisdom, growing power risks growing dangers.  In the 50 years since Vatican II, the specters of nuclear war, climate change, international terrorism, ecological and economic disaster, genocide, bioengineering and technology run amok have all confirmed Vatican II’s view that our future depends on matching our expanding powers with expanded wisdom.

But where do we find such wisdom? Who offers it?

Of course, wisdom may be sought in literature, philosophy, and art as well as in our religious traditions. But most people find it embodied in exceptional individuals who point us to those other sources. The March’s anniversary reminds us that, for millions of Americans, that individual is Martin Luther King. And that is a good thing.

But I wonder still about many born since King died, raised in a world saturated with comfort and convenience yet consumed with anxiety about the future of their lives, their nation, and their world. Who offers them the wisdom they need?

Sometimes we read of the next generation’s search for heroes—but heroism is about achievement and character, while wisdom is about insight and vision. Athletes can be role models and heroes, but make unlikely wisdom figures.  Celebrities are known for their fame but not for their insight.  People in public office may be admired for their abilities and occasionally even for their courage, but politics is seldom seen as wisdom’s natural home. Corporate giants may be shrewd and powerful and even ruthless, but few of us believe that the bottom line reveals much about the fullness of life.

So if young Americans need wisdom figures—and they do—but cannot find them in sports, show business, politics, or the corporate world—where can they find them? (All evidence suggests, of course, that they will not even LOOK within religious institutions).

I think back to my own formative years, and think of the people who inspired me with their wise insights into life’s purpose and value.  When the pop song “Alfie” asked “What’s it all about?” I turned to the obvious figure from my own family religious tradition: Jesus. And as I came of age I found other figures to follow. Often these were people themselves inspired by Jesus, or else were following visions that complemented what I knew of Jesus’ wisdom.

Over time I was lucky enough to find many wisdom figures to inspire and guide me.

There was John XXIII, the pope who proved that our ancient faith and the contemporary world need not be estranged. There was Pete Seeger, the troubadour who made his music a voice for justice. There was Guy Leger, a Dominican priest who taught me that all true beauty, just like all goodness, is sacred.   

There was Dag Hammarskjold, UN leader who linked the

Dag Hammarskjold

spiritual life and public policy. There was Albert Schweitzer, who showed how crucial but how also how challenging it is to practice “reverence for life.” There was Gandhi, who proved that non-violent love could conquer hate. There was Bob Lindsay, a Jesuit priest who taught me to find reality beyond appearances.

There was Dorothy Day, who reminded us of the non-violent love at the core of Christian faith. There was King himself, who linked Gandhian non-violence with the gospel-fired flame of racial justice. 

Some of those people I was blessed to know. The others I was blessed to know about. I am still eager to find new wisdom figures: since finishing two recent biographies of Francis of Assisi, I suspect I may soon add his name to my list. All told, it is a good list: robust enough to fuel much reflection on my life and living.

But the main thing is to HAVE such a list, to know the answer to the question: “Who is on MY list? Who are MY wisdom figures?”

That question is also important to those you love: where do they seek and find the wisdom that enriches their lives and nurtures their spirit?

Celebrating the 50^th anniversary of the March on Washington, countless observers spoke of  "progress” to measure that event’s legacy. How they assess our “progress” seems to depend on their interpretation of that event’s meaning. So they measure racial justice, or the range of freedom, or economic opportunity, or social equality, or even the strength of our hope or the scope of our national vision.

But for those who now see wisdom in the figure of Martin Luther King, perhaps “progress” is more personal, and must be measured more by the vitality of our spirits than by the prosperity of our land, more by the peace in our hearts than by the turmoil in our world. For King never spoke without preaching, and behind all his preaching was the gospel of peace.

  Bernard F. Swain PhD 2010

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#377: What Would Jesus Say?

The 2012 election gives new relevance to the words of Jesus in the Gospel of John (Chapter 9, verses 1-3)… 
     I had not intended another election piece.  But then Mitt Romney’s post-election analysis provoked so much commentary I felt impelled to join the crowd.

What struck me most was the response of those defending Romney’s claim that it was “gifts” from the Federal Government, and specifically from the Obama Administration, that induced many voting blocs (college students, single women, immigrants, and minorities) to provide Obama with his victory margin.

I personally found Romney’s claim exaggerated and simplistic--but like many such claims it contained a kernel of truth.  Chris Matthews, by contrast, exaggerated the opposite way, interpreting Romney to mean that Obama “bought” the election.  The truth lies in the middle.

On the level of simple facts, the government actions Romney cited did benefit many Obama supporters.  But so what?  Politics has always been about serving your constituent base.  Romney also promised to help folks if elected.  The difference is that Obama, as the incumbent, could do more than promise--he could act.  The field was not level. It never is when an incumbent runs for re-election.

But some Romney reporters read his remarks on a deeper level.  They took them personally not as describing how politics works, but as describing how our society has declined.  They took it as a moral judgment which they agreed with--a judgment against, not Obama, but against those who supported him.  Take this letter to the Boston Globe as an example:

President Obama and Senator-elect Elizabeth Warren won because too many voters buy into the Democrats’ message that the people need their help.  Too many think they are incapable of navigating a world of business, real estate, and commerce.  The Republican message--let government help you help yourself--doesn’t resonate when so many people are on the receiving end of federal benefits…

America is no longer a nation of independent, entrepreneurial, responsible individuals.  We are fearful, lazy, and looking for the government to make the tough decisions and take care of us.

This letter echoes many commentaries since the election, which in turn echo Mitt Romney’s earlier remarks about the 47% who will not take responsibility for their own lives.

The implied moral judgment is clear: the Democratic Party appeals to voters who lacked the virtues of independence and self sufficiency.  It wins elections by catering to the lazy, the weak, and the irresponsible. Such politics takes us down the road to national perdition

I admit I now understand this perspective better than I used to--but I still find it senseless and even repugnant.

I recall how mystified I was when, as a young boy, I first heard this gospel passage:

As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth.  His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”

“Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.”--John 9:1-12

The disciples’ question made absolutely no sense to me.  Why, I wondered, would anyone connect misfortune and misery with wrongdoing?  Why would anyone link sickness with sin?

It seemed to me then that Jesus’ response was just plain common sense.  To me, it was more than obvious that people often suffered misfortune through no fault of their own, and needed the help of others.  Didn’t the Parable of the Good Samaritan confirm precisely that point?

And Catholic tradition has long since interpreted Jesus’ remarks to mean that the suffering of others is God’s way of inviting our compassion.  Their suffering means, not that they have done wrong, but that we must prove ourselves to be our brother’s keeper.

As I grew, however, I met more and more people who thought just like those who challenged Jesus (in this case, his own disciples!).  They presume that people in dire straits, especially people who need others’ help (and particularly public sector help), have brought this misfortune on themselves, through some fault of their own.  Such people therefore deserve no help.

The logic still escaped me: how could one think backwards from an outcome of misfortune to its root in moral failing?  But I realized that many people did, in fact, think this way.  As time went by, the gospel passage thus seemed increasingly relevant, as a Christian rebuke against such logic.

I eventually learned, of course, that one strain of Protestant fought employed just this kind of logic in its moral theology.  Some Protestants professed belief in “predestination”--the notion that the identity of those to be saved (as well as those to be damned) is already known to God.  It was almost as if a list had already been drawn up.  This naturally begged the urgent existential question: “Are we on the list of those saved?”  And this led to the more practical question: “How can we know if we are on this list?”

So some Protestants begin to draw conclusions based on observation.  But while the Catholic tradition of “natural law” and always drawn conclusions about God’s will by observing the facts of nature, those Protestants begin to draw conclusions about God’s will by observing the condition of people.  To oversimplify: people observed to be wealthy, successful, thriving were judged to be blessed by God—a sure sign of their salvation.  Those struggling or downtrodden, by contrast, could be judged to be suffering God’s neglect or even punishment--the likely sign of their damnation.

Such a distortion of the gospel message was certainly not what Luther or Calvin had in mind, yet once this oversimplification hijacked the label “Protestant Work Ethic,” it validated the prejudices and moral arrogance of millions of Americans over many generations.  It appears that many Americans still distort the gospels this way.

Last week I mentioned the declining demographic of the American “mainstream” that peaked in the 1950s and is now falling to minority status.  The post-war decade they dominated, the 1950s, achieved a kind of happy “normalcy” many Americans still yearn for as a kind of “golden age.” But this “normalcy” was possible only by ignoring the plight of millions of citizens outside the mainstream.  I’m not just referring to the discriminated minorities that provoked the Civil Rights movement; I’m referring especially to the millions in poverty whose shocking portrayal in Michael Harrington’s landmark 1962 book The Other America triggered the Kennedy administration’s War on Poverty--a war we are still waging 50 years later.

Since the 1950s, those needy millions have not only become more visible, they have become more numerous as new people arrive from Vietnam, Cambodia, Haiti, Latin America and the Caribbean.  Moreover, even the middle class has seen its self-sufficiency threatened: since 1970, real wages have steadily declined, wealth has concentrated into a smaller portion of our population, and the 1950s’ ideal of a family supported by one wage earner has become increasingly rare.

It is little surprise, then, that even before The Great Recession the political climate favored candidates willing to respond to the needs of the poor, the immigrant, young, the single women.  It made political sense, even for candidates who were not motivated by moral concerns.

By contrast, to ignore all those Americans in 2012,  to write them off, and to criticize opponents for offering to help them makes no political sense at all--the election results proved that.

So why would smart politicians deliberately oppose and ridicule such “gifts” to those in need? Why act in a way that makes no political sense? I can only think that the old judgmental mindset of the disciples in John 9:1-3 is still at work.

Those in need, that mindset thinks, suffer misfortune due to their own failures.  They have brought their hardship upon themselves.  They demonstrate themselves incapable of responsible behavior.  They do not deserve the government’s help.  And those who promise such help are pandering to the basest instincts of a society in decline. 

What would Jesus say to people who take this point of view?  We don’t even need to ask what he would say--we already know the answer.  These people should read the gospels.

© Bernard F. Swain PhD 2012

#295: Scapegoating “Illegals”

EXCERPT:
For the people touting “respect for the law” as the key issue for immigration reform, the term “illegal” has become either a ploy or a fetish.

It’s a ploy if they hide behind “illegal” to camouflage opposition that really is rooted in racism, or paranoia, or delusion, or nativism. I’m sure this applies to some who cannot abide an America filling up with dark-skinned foreigners (who don’t speak English and may even worship a foreign God) and are convinced these people are causing all our troubles.

But let’s assume that most closed door people really are driven by their problem with the illegals’ (and their supporters’) supposed lack of respect for the rule of law. In that case, they risk idolizing the law as if it were some absolute value – as if merely being “illegal” is reason enough to be excluded.

If that is really what people think, they have made “illegal” their fetish: a small piece of the American anatomy that excites them all out of proportion to its importance…

…

Consider this lesson from history. During World War II Angelo Roncalli became Vatican ambassador to Turkey. Aware of thousands of Jews trapped in Eastern Europe under Nazi occupation, he took decisive – and decidedly irregular – action. He got Jewish authorities in Palestine to send bundles of travel papers, he got the Vatican to send bundles of transit letters, and he arranged to issue baptismal certificates to thousands of Jewish children – some reflecting actual “provisional Baptisms,” some simple forgeries. Thus equipped with smuggled, fraudulent, even forged papers, thousands of Jews (some say 25,000) escaped from Poland and Hungary into unoccupied territories. Roncalli also convinced the Turkish government not to deport even the undocumented Jews.

For all these efforts on the half of “illegals” immigrating to Turkey and Palestine, the worldwide Jewish community has declared Roncalli to be one of the 20th century’s "Righteous Among the Nations". Of course, fifteen years later Roncalli was elected Pope John XXIII.

Today’s US Bishops are similarly pro-immigrant, and are fighting to help “illegals” gain acceptance and the legal permission to stay. They know, like Roncalli, that in most cases “illegal” merely means “victims of circumstance” – and they’re committed to helping any way they can.

People trumpeting “the rule of law” as a sacred value must ask themselves: are they also committed to the higher law of human rights? What about God’s law of love for neighbor? Or would they condemn Roncalli for enabling “illegality,” and tell us someone should have sent those Jews – who were Hitler’s scapegoats – back to their fate?