EXCERPT:
There is nothing wrong with loving popular Catholic devotions and believing that they and enrich the Church and your own spiritual life. But there is everything wrong with expecting that others will feel exactly like you. The first attitude is very Catholic; the second one is not.
The first attitude simply demonstrates the power of Roman Catholic devotions. In fact it demonstrates that the key to the unity of the Church is not uniformity in all things but a diversity of practices which, while rooted in the same faith, vary from culture to culture and generation to generation. In fact it has been the ability of Catholicism to adapt to various times and places that has allowed it to expand so powerfully. That is why Irish Catholicism differs from Italian Catholicism, which is not like Polish Catholicism or French Catholicism or Vietnamese Catholicism or African Catholicism--yet all share the same essential faith.
Such diversity recognizes that no one set of popular devotions fits all Catholics. Such devotions, moreover, seldom spanned all continents or generations; Marian devotions in particular emerged in the medieval era and thrived especially at a time when art and architecture and culture in general focused heavily on Mary as the icon of Christian femininity.
The second attitude--that everyone should find the same benefit from popular devotions--contradicts this historic and cultural diversity by assuming that all Catholics need the same set of devotional practices. The frustration in this attitude is rooted in the desire for a one-size-fits-all spiritual life for all Catholics.
This contradicts our history. How else to explain the multiplication of religious communities in the Catholic Church? Nearly all of them, after all, were born of the conviction that the available forms of the spiritual life were not adequate for everyone's needs.
So, for example, Benedict founded the first monasteries because the solitary life of hermits (the only form of spiritual life prevalent then) did not fit his needs. In other words, the available spiritual practices were not enough for all Catholics.
So too, the Franciscans took to the streets and fields because the Cloistered life of monastic contemplation was not enough. Similarly, the Dominicans brought new preaching and teaching zeal to religious life. The Jesuits added an almost martial missionary fervor and discipline. The Paulist Fathers became the first American-born religious community because their founder, Isaac Hecker, found the established European orders inadequately attuned to American culture and customs.
In short, the Catholic way of spirituality requires a wide variety of approaches to the spiritual life. The longer our tradition lasts, the clearer it becomes that we are never finished developing and enriching Catholic spirituality.
When popular Catholic devotions are good and effective, it is always because they enrich the life of Catholics. But they serve no good if they begin to compete with or replace the core of our faith--the elements that all Catholics must hold in common and practice together.
What do I mean by this "core of faith"?
I mean the things that all Catholics have identified with throughout our history : (1) our belief in the triune God, as definitively enshrined in the Nicene creed ; (2) the reliance on scriptures which began with Paul's letters less than twenty years after the first Easter and culminated four generations later in what we still call the Bible; (3) the regular celebration of the risen Christ presence among us through the visible signs of Baptism, Confirmation, the Eucharist, and the rest of the sacramental system we know today; (4) the practice of loving service that enabled the solidarity of early Christian communities to evolve into the world's largest charitable organization.
Our Trinitarian belief, our Biblical faith, our sacramental celebration, and our service to others--these form the core of Catholic life. No generation of Catholics has ever lived --or could ever live --without them.
Compared to this core, everything think else is secondary and peripheral –they are the "bells and whistles" that make Catholicism such a rich, diverse, and the even ornate tradition. But past generations lived their faith without them, and future generations do not require them to be truly Catholic. Those who love them should enjoy them, but no one should feel frustration if others do not respond the same way. And we should never allow them to compete with our core (as, for example, the rosary did during for many Mass-going Catholics in an earlier generation).
No particular Catholic popular devotion, then, can be presented as the key to a power future --or even as the key to reaching out to the next generation. For those who love them, they add to the appeal of Catholic living. But there is no guarantee that they will be enough for millions of other Catholics.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
#322: Aftershock: the Exercise of Wisdom
EXCERPT:
Longtime CrossCurrents readers know my shorthand summary of the Church-renewal agenda of Vatican Council II (1962-1965) is: “Bringing Wisdom to Power.” … The exercise of power is all around us, but the exercise of wisdom can only come from within.
The last two weeks since the tragedy in Japan show how difficult the exercise of wisdom can sometimes be. The parade of awful headlines can be numbing even from a safe distance, so the effort to make sense and filter through to the essential values can become not only a mental but even an emotional burden.
My own reflections have followed a twisted path as the news from Japan has emerged…
But suddenly the media coverage was overtaken by the nuclear crisis. After three or four days, the quake and the tsunami were nearly gone from CNN’s screens and from most newspaper pages. Both were filled with the latest breaking news from the power plants--explosion, fire, water-bombs, spreading radiation, and endless descriptions of nuclear reactors—and the experts’ assessments of the potential dangers. The fate of the whole towns and thousands of victims was shelved to focus instead on six buildings.
Within a week, reports emerged of a shortage of potassium iodide needed to protect the local populations from radiation. And I also heard reports of similar shortages in the United States (including Massachusetts) where people panicked about the effect of their own nuclear plants despite being told that stocking potassium iodide against future risk only meant it would lose its effectiveness. The risk in this over-reaction was that supplies needed in Japan would be uselessly consumed in the U.S.
…
I began to feel that U.S. paranoia about nuclear energy and radiation was beginning to overshadow the real suffering in Japan. If 20,000 Japanese have died and millions are left with nothing, why obsess about a threat that remains less than ordinary x-ray?…
Over the next few days however, even though the nuclear crisis continued to generate news, the media regained its balance and began to cover the disaster’s aftermath more broadly.…
What I first took as overreaction, national nuclear navel- gazing, and paranoia now seems to be yielding a calmer, wiser view of the need to learn from our mistakes.
By now I have two main reflections about the events and their coverage.
First, what awful tragic irony it is that Japan of all places has become, yet again, the place where the awesome challenge of nuclear power confronts the world. The very nation that remains the only victim of nuclear weaponry (from U.S. attacks that cost more than 150,000 Japanese their lives) has now become our real-life model for the inadequacy of nuclear plant designs that are commonplace even in the United States. Once again, Japan unwillingly provides the world its much-needed cautionary tale—its next nuclear wake-up call.
Second, I cannot help but recall that when Vatican Council II spoke on the need to harness power with wisdom, it especially targeted nuclear energy. Indeed, its only condemnation was reserved for the construction, threat, and use of nuclear weapons. Clearly, the Council Fathers recognized the new phenomenon of energy from fission and fusion as the prime modern example of a power which, unguided by wisdom, could destroy our dreams and haunt our hopes.
Nearly 50 years later, nuclear devices (both weapons and plants) continue to test the ability of the human race to harness its newfound powers with wisdom--and, at the same time, they confirm the importance of Vatican II’s vision, not just for Catholics, but for the whole world.
Longtime CrossCurrents readers know my shorthand summary of the Church-renewal agenda of Vatican Council II (1962-1965) is: “Bringing Wisdom to Power.” … The exercise of power is all around us, but the exercise of wisdom can only come from within.
The last two weeks since the tragedy in Japan show how difficult the exercise of wisdom can sometimes be. The parade of awful headlines can be numbing even from a safe distance, so the effort to make sense and filter through to the essential values can become not only a mental but even an emotional burden.
My own reflections have followed a twisted path as the news from Japan has emerged…
But suddenly the media coverage was overtaken by the nuclear crisis. After three or four days, the quake and the tsunami were nearly gone from CNN’s screens and from most newspaper pages. Both were filled with the latest breaking news from the power plants--explosion, fire, water-bombs, spreading radiation, and endless descriptions of nuclear reactors—and the experts’ assessments of the potential dangers. The fate of the whole towns and thousands of victims was shelved to focus instead on six buildings.
Within a week, reports emerged of a shortage of potassium iodide needed to protect the local populations from radiation. And I also heard reports of similar shortages in the United States (including Massachusetts) where people panicked about the effect of their own nuclear plants despite being told that stocking potassium iodide against future risk only meant it would lose its effectiveness. The risk in this over-reaction was that supplies needed in Japan would be uselessly consumed in the U.S.
…
I began to feel that U.S. paranoia about nuclear energy and radiation was beginning to overshadow the real suffering in Japan. If 20,000 Japanese have died and millions are left with nothing, why obsess about a threat that remains less than ordinary x-ray?…
Over the next few days however, even though the nuclear crisis continued to generate news, the media regained its balance and began to cover the disaster’s aftermath more broadly.…
What I first took as overreaction, national nuclear navel- gazing, and paranoia now seems to be yielding a calmer, wiser view of the need to learn from our mistakes.
By now I have two main reflections about the events and their coverage.
First, what awful tragic irony it is that Japan of all places has become, yet again, the place where the awesome challenge of nuclear power confronts the world. The very nation that remains the only victim of nuclear weaponry (from U.S. attacks that cost more than 150,000 Japanese their lives) has now become our real-life model for the inadequacy of nuclear plant designs that are commonplace even in the United States. Once again, Japan unwillingly provides the world its much-needed cautionary tale—its next nuclear wake-up call.
Second, I cannot help but recall that when Vatican Council II spoke on the need to harness power with wisdom, it especially targeted nuclear energy. Indeed, its only condemnation was reserved for the construction, threat, and use of nuclear weapons. Clearly, the Council Fathers recognized the new phenomenon of energy from fission and fusion as the prime modern example of a power which, unguided by wisdom, could destroy our dreams and haunt our hopes.
Nearly 50 years later, nuclear devices (both weapons and plants) continue to test the ability of the human race to harness its newfound powers with wisdom--and, at the same time, they confirm the importance of Vatican II’s vision, not just for Catholics, but for the whole world.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
#321: Up From The Ashes?
EXCERPT:
The Ash Wednesday story out of Philadelphia was the last straw for me. I am sick of scandal in the church—sick at heart, sick to death.
It feels like I have been living with this tragedy a very long time. In fact, I first faced the specter of clergy sex abuse in 1989, when…1990 and ‘91 my newspaper…By 1994 …In 2000 my father …In 2002, when the dam broke in Boston following the court-ordered release of Archdiocesan files sought by victims’ families, I witnessed not only the public explosion of but also many personal connections to the scandal...But since then outbreaks have occurred in Germany, Belgium, Ireland, Australia—and now again in the US, in Philadelphia among 21 active-duty priests.
Looking back over all of this, I realize that this scandal, spreading its toxic effects like some invisible radioactive material, is proving to have a very long half-life. It simply refuses to go away.
The victims will live with the damage for the rest of their lives; the bankrupt dioceses may never recover their former prosperity; it could take a generation for the institutional church to recover its good name—and the hierarchy may never regain its former control over its flock. In some very basic sense, the Church as we knew it will never be the same.
Could that be a good thing? It can—that is, this awful tragedy could even yield some beneficial byproducts—but only on several conditions.
First, for example, the outcome could be beneficial if the institutional church establishes hierarchy’s accountability to the whole People of God. We may not need to require the dismantling of the hierarchy itself, but we can no longer accept a hierarchy that answers to no one else. When Bernard Law resigned as Archbishop of Boston, it seemed unprecedented and extraordinary; in fact he received barely a slap on the wrist before the golden parachute that made him archpriest of a famous Rome church. Now in Philadelphia we see the first men facing criminal charges for their failures in supervising priest-abusers. In the future, such accountability both within the church and within civil society will have to become the norm, not the exception.
Second, the outcome might be beneficial if we ensure the safety of all children—a heavy moral responsibility on which there has been some progress but requires much more, since there is some evidence that new regulations are not being consistently enforced.
Third, we must include some account of the root causes of the abuse itself. For most of us, the hierarchical cover-up was an even bigger scandal than the abuse itself, but such mis-governance would be moot without the abuse in the first place. Is the rate of priestly abuse (some 7% percent of Boston priests over 50 years, for example) comparable to other service professions? And even if it is comparable, should the priesthood not model more integrity than other professions?
…
Fourth, then, the outcome will only be beneficial if we uproot the causes of abuse once we have identified them. I have argued in the past, for example, that making celibacy a mandate rather than an option had the unintentional effect of establishing a ready-made closet where young Catholic men could hide their emotional and sexual difficulties by entering seminaries, thereby ending once and for all the typical questions of parents, relatives, and peers about their plans to “marry a nice girl and settle down.” This had the effect of concentrating men with sexual problems into a small population of service providers with access to children and the power to abuse them. Thus the requirement that 100% of priests be celibate may turn out to have done more harm than good.
Fifth, a beneficial outcome requires that the hierarchy move beyond its recent obsession with sex - - an obsession that has infected much of Catholic life. From contraception in the 1960s to same-sex marriage in the 21st century, the hierarchy has compiled a long string of crusades against contemporary views of sexuality. If the hierarchy is not in reality obsessed with sex, it has at least succeeded in making the general public think so. It’s high time the Church re-brand its public face with higher priorities.
Finally, the outcome might only be beneficial if we avoid the temptation to scapegoat others. If pedophiles are people who are attracted, not to the opposite sex or to their own sex, but to children, then the underlying problem is not gender-preference but the inability to interact with responsible intimacy with one’s own peers. Blaming gay men for someone else’s problems will solve nothing …
Vatican II (1962-1965) preached the modern world’s urgent need to match its high-tech power with an ancient but updated wisdom. But the institution has undermined its own message by failing to marshal the wisdom it needed to control its own power and prevent abuse.
So the fundamental condition for a happier outcome will finally be: can the institution now show the wisdom and the courage to do what must be done? It so, we might somewhere on the horizon see the institution rise from its own self-inflicted ashes. If not, it will prolong self-inflicted hemorrhaging from its own hypocrisy.
The Ash Wednesday story out of Philadelphia was the last straw for me. I am sick of scandal in the church—sick at heart, sick to death.
It feels like I have been living with this tragedy a very long time. In fact, I first faced the specter of clergy sex abuse in 1989, when…1990 and ‘91 my newspaper…By 1994 …In 2000 my father …In 2002, when the dam broke in Boston following the court-ordered release of Archdiocesan files sought by victims’ families, I witnessed not only the public explosion of but also many personal connections to the scandal...But since then outbreaks have occurred in Germany, Belgium, Ireland, Australia—and now again in the US, in Philadelphia among 21 active-duty priests.
Looking back over all of this, I realize that this scandal, spreading its toxic effects like some invisible radioactive material, is proving to have a very long half-life. It simply refuses to go away.
The victims will live with the damage for the rest of their lives; the bankrupt dioceses may never recover their former prosperity; it could take a generation for the institutional church to recover its good name—and the hierarchy may never regain its former control over its flock. In some very basic sense, the Church as we knew it will never be the same.
Could that be a good thing? It can—that is, this awful tragedy could even yield some beneficial byproducts—but only on several conditions.
First, for example, the outcome could be beneficial if the institutional church establishes hierarchy’s accountability to the whole People of God. We may not need to require the dismantling of the hierarchy itself, but we can no longer accept a hierarchy that answers to no one else. When Bernard Law resigned as Archbishop of Boston, it seemed unprecedented and extraordinary; in fact he received barely a slap on the wrist before the golden parachute that made him archpriest of a famous Rome church. Now in Philadelphia we see the first men facing criminal charges for their failures in supervising priest-abusers. In the future, such accountability both within the church and within civil society will have to become the norm, not the exception.
Second, the outcome might be beneficial if we ensure the safety of all children—a heavy moral responsibility on which there has been some progress but requires much more, since there is some evidence that new regulations are not being consistently enforced.
Third, we must include some account of the root causes of the abuse itself. For most of us, the hierarchical cover-up was an even bigger scandal than the abuse itself, but such mis-governance would be moot without the abuse in the first place. Is the rate of priestly abuse (some 7% percent of Boston priests over 50 years, for example) comparable to other service professions? And even if it is comparable, should the priesthood not model more integrity than other professions?
…
Fourth, then, the outcome will only be beneficial if we uproot the causes of abuse once we have identified them. I have argued in the past, for example, that making celibacy a mandate rather than an option had the unintentional effect of establishing a ready-made closet where young Catholic men could hide their emotional and sexual difficulties by entering seminaries, thereby ending once and for all the typical questions of parents, relatives, and peers about their plans to “marry a nice girl and settle down.” This had the effect of concentrating men with sexual problems into a small population of service providers with access to children and the power to abuse them. Thus the requirement that 100% of priests be celibate may turn out to have done more harm than good.
Fifth, a beneficial outcome requires that the hierarchy move beyond its recent obsession with sex - - an obsession that has infected much of Catholic life. From contraception in the 1960s to same-sex marriage in the 21st century, the hierarchy has compiled a long string of crusades against contemporary views of sexuality. If the hierarchy is not in reality obsessed with sex, it has at least succeeded in making the general public think so. It’s high time the Church re-brand its public face with higher priorities.
Finally, the outcome might only be beneficial if we avoid the temptation to scapegoat others. If pedophiles are people who are attracted, not to the opposite sex or to their own sex, but to children, then the underlying problem is not gender-preference but the inability to interact with responsible intimacy with one’s own peers. Blaming gay men for someone else’s problems will solve nothing …
Vatican II (1962-1965) preached the modern world’s urgent need to match its high-tech power with an ancient but updated wisdom. But the institution has undermined its own message by failing to marshal the wisdom it needed to control its own power and prevent abuse.
So the fundamental condition for a happier outcome will finally be: can the institution now show the wisdom and the courage to do what must be done? It so, we might somewhere on the horizon see the institution rise from its own self-inflicted ashes. If not, it will prolong self-inflicted hemorrhaging from its own hypocrisy.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
#320: Catholic Solidarity, Part II
EXCERPT:
it is now more than a century that the Catholic Church has been on record supporting the notion that unionism, and the collective bargaining that goes with it, are basic rights which, in modern capitalist societies, are often the only protection workers have against corporate power.
Here is what Catholics need to know about this teaching, which has been established and developed by five different popes, as well as by the US Catholic Conference of Bishops:
1.Unions are indispensable in pursuing the common good of all.
2.Unions are rooted in the right to free association –that is, the right to unite with others to protect common interests.
3.Unions foster solidarity through participation and collaboration.
4.Unions have a duty to seek cooperative relationships with employers.
None of this teaching justifies union corruption; none of it justifies the failure of unions to seek the common good of all; none of it justifies intransigence or an unwillingness to bargain. When unions fail, like any other human organization, they must be reformed.
But challenging them to fulfill their duties cannot include revoking their rights. That is why Bishop Stephen E. Blaire of Stockton, California, chairman of the US Conference of Catholic Bishops’ Committee on Domestic Justice and Human Development, said the following in a recent public letter to the Archbishop of Milwaukee:
No surprise then that the Archbishop of Milwaukee himself, Jerome E. Listecki, acting as president of the Wisconsin Catholic Conference released the following statement [emphasis mine]:
Perhaps the strongest statement applicable to the current situation was made by the US Bishops in their 1986 pastoral letter “Economic Justice for All”:
it is now more than a century that the Catholic Church has been on record supporting the notion that unionism, and the collective bargaining that goes with it, are basic rights which, in modern capitalist societies, are often the only protection workers have against corporate power.
Here is what Catholics need to know about this teaching, which has been established and developed by five different popes, as well as by the US Catholic Conference of Bishops:
1.Unions are indispensable in pursuing the common good of all.
2.Unions are rooted in the right to free association –that is, the right to unite with others to protect common interests.
3.Unions foster solidarity through participation and collaboration.
4.Unions have a duty to seek cooperative relationships with employers.
None of this teaching justifies union corruption; none of it justifies the failure of unions to seek the common good of all; none of it justifies intransigence or an unwillingness to bargain. When unions fail, like any other human organization, they must be reformed.
But challenging them to fulfill their duties cannot include revoking their rights. That is why Bishop Stephen E. Blaire of Stockton, California, chairman of the US Conference of Catholic Bishops’ Committee on Domestic Justice and Human Development, said the following in a recent public letter to the Archbishop of Milwaukee:
These are not just political conflicts or economic choices; they are moral choices with enormous human dimensions…The debates over worker representation and collective bargaining are not simply matters of ideology or power, but involve principles of justice, participation and how workers can have a voice in the workplace and economy.
No surprise then that the Archbishop of Milwaukee himself, Jerome E. Listecki, acting as president of the Wisconsin Catholic Conference released the following statement [emphasis mine]:
The Church is well aware that difficult economic times call for hard choices and financial responsibility to further the common good…But hard times do not nullify the moral obligation each of us has to respect the legitimate rights of workers. As Pope Benedict wrote in his 2009 encyclical, Caritas in Veritate: “Governments, for reasons of economic utility, often limit the freedom or the negotiating capacity of labor unions. Hence traditional networks of solidarity have more and more obstacles to overcome. The repeated calls issued within the Church's social doctrine…for the promotion of workers' associations that can defend their rights must therefore be honored today even more than in the past…”
Perhaps the strongest statement applicable to the current situation was made by the US Bishops in their 1986 pastoral letter “Economic Justice for All”:
The Church fully supports the right of workers to form unions or other associations to secure their rights to fair wages and working conditions…No one may deny the right to organize without attacking human dignity itself.
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