EXCERPT:
The seismic jolt of Vatican Council II (1962-1965) meant little to Americans Catholics until the first shockwave reached our shores—exactly 45 years ago this week.
This is the moment when Pope Paul VI broke all tradition and precedent (the pope had been, quite literally, the “prisoner of the Vatican” for the previous 94 years) by traveling across the Atlantic to deliver his Church’s message to the world.
The scene was the stuff of high theater...
…Now this “Pilgrim Pope” stood before the General Assembly, the first Pope to visit the New World, and spoke in French.
Paul appealed to outlaw all nuclear weapons, issued his famous cry: "Jamais plus de guerre!”(Never any more War). He also urged more concerted action on hunger. And he even advised the UN to admit Red China.
Most surprising and significant of all, however, were the Pope's extended remarks about his own Church and the UN itself. He began by giving the Catholic point of view:
Like a messenger who, after a long journey, finally succeeds in delivering the letter which has been entrusted to him, so we appreciate the good fortune of this moment, however brief, which fulfills a desire nourished in the heart for nearly twenty centuries. For, as you well remember, we are very ancient; we here represent a long history; we here celebrate the epilogue of a weary pilgrimage in search of a conversation with the entire world, ever since the command was given to us: Go and bring the good news to all peoples.
Next, he challenged the UN to an extraordinarily exalted view of its own mission:
Now, you represent all peoples...The edifice which you have constructed must never fall; it must be perfected and made equal to the needs which world history will present. You mark a stage in the development of mankind from which retreat must never be admitted, but from which it is necessary that advance be made.
The Pope paused. Then, in the measured tones of the career diplomat he was, he sharpened his point by comparing the UN's global mission to Catholicism's:
You are a bridge between peoples. You are a network of relations between states. We would almost say that your chief characteristic is a reflection, as it were, in the temporal field, of what our Catholic Church aspires to be in the spiritual field: unique and universal. Your vocation is to make brothers not only of some, but of all people.
Finally, he argued that Catholicism’s concern with humanity's spiritual needs should link, rather than separate, the two organizations:
This edifice which you are constructing does not rest upon merely material and earthly foundations, for thus it would be a house built upon sand; above all, it is based on our own consciences. The hour has struck for our "conversion," for personal transformation, for interior renewal. We must get used to thinking of humanity in a new way...With a new manner, too, of conceiving the paths of history and the destiny of the world...The edifice of modern civilization must be built upon spiritual principles which alone can, not only support it, but even illuminate and animate it.
It was October 4, 1965. Vatican II would end just eight weeks later, but until now it had remained a distant blip on most Americans’ radar. Millions saw the TV coverage of the pope landing in New York, the pope meeting the President of the United States, the pope before the UN, the Pope saying mass at Yankee Stadium. Paul had used this speech to announce the Council’s agenda in the most public way imaginable.
The implications of the seismic shift we have witnessed in Catholicism since Vatican II cannot be fully understood without accounting for the prior model being left behind. What was it, exactly, that was being changed, lost, abandoned, rejected? And what was supposed to replace it?
The world has never had a global religion. In fact, the overwhelming majority of religions in human history have never extended beyond the clan, tribe, or local region where they began…In all of history, in fact, only a handful of religions have expanded beyond local culture to become known as "world religions." But even these show marked geographic and cultural limitations...
Christianity did attempt global status once, but its bid was based on a faulty strategy that ultimately limited and even weakened its influence. The turning point was the conversion of the emperor Constantine to Christianity in the early 4th century. Christianity...now adopted Greco-Roman culture as its sponsor…Christendom, became the cultural vehicle for expanding the Christian mission. As this European culture was exported across the globe via colonialism, Christianity went with it, replacing native religions wherever it went.
...But the strategy was doomed, because the attempt to Europeanize the whole world could never succeed.
Indeed, the last half of the 20th century saw…The movement of the Third World to throw off colonialism and its alien European culture
At Vatican II, the Catholic Church, in the very act of abandoning Eurocentrism, committed itself to a second attempt at making Christianity the world's first global religion. This time, however, the strategy was quite different: if there could be no global culture, if Eurocentrism was dead, then the alternative was obvious. Christianity must evolve into a religion tied to no one culture, capable of opening and adapting to any surroundings, aiming to influence without first dominating.
In Paul’s vision (inherited from John XXIII), if Vatican II's global gamble succeeded, Catholicism would lead Christianity into a position of new prominence. Already the world's largest religion, Christianity would become the world's first truly global religion -- the "Light of Nations" (Lumen Gentium), shining with vast influence as the world's "expert on humanity" to promote a "civilization of love" and a “culture of life.” If Vatican II failed, Catholicism could lose its own identity.
Forty-five years later, that gamble’s outcome remains unknown. But the “conversation with the entire world” evoked by Paul VI has blossomed, under the papacies of John-Paul II and Benedict XVI, into a permanent dialog aimed at the good of all humankind.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Thursday, September 23, 2010
#307: Keeping the Flame Alive
EXCERPT:
Forty-Five years ago last week, 2000 Catholic bishops arrived in Rome, one more time, for the fourth and final session of the Second Vatican Council. Autumn 1965 saw “Vatican II” conclude after four successive autumns (1962-1965) in which this massive gathering of bishops from every continent, along with their periti (theological experts) and several hundred non-Catholic observers, spent nearly 50 weeks of debate and decision-making to produce 16 major documents that transformed both the Catholic Church and the Christian world.
It was the biggest meeting in human history, held by the world’s largest organization. Historians call it “the most important religious event of the 20th century,” and the two presiding popes called it “a second Pentecost.” Since Catholics celebrate Pentecost as the “birthday of the Church,” this makes Vatican II the “rebirth of the Church.”
To undertake the rebirth of any organization twenty centuries after its founding is a huge milestone. Yet 45 years later, this milestone is in danger of disappearing from view – and I think I know why.
In my parish work I observe a widespread generation gap between two groups of people: “Vatican II” Catholics and “post-Vatican II” Catholics. In secular terms, this breakdown roughly resembles the line between Baby Boomers and their grown children. The more I observe the interaction of these two groups, the more obvious the generation gap appears – and the more important it becomes to find a solution.
Simply put, here is the problem: “Vatican II” Catholics lived through the Council and its aftermath. The Council experience began during the Cuban Missile Crisis, straddled Martin Luther King’s “I have a Dream” speech, JFK’s assassination, and the Civil Rights triumphs, and ended as troops arrived en masse in Vietnam. Where many high schools held model United Nations, mine held a model Vatican II every year. For them, Vatican II was among the major events of the “sixties.”
Most “Vatican II” Catholics remember Catholic life before Vatican II (that is, before 1962), and they remember too the surprise and turmoil during the Council itself, (‘62-‘65 ) and finally the euphoric and polarizing aftermath (1965-1978). For them, Vatican II didn’t “merely” change the Church (however historic and momentous that change once) – it also changed their lives. For many, it was the equivalent of an identity transplant. They became changed people forever.
But Vatican II was not a life-changing event for the Post-Vatican II Catholics. Vatican II changed the Church they grew up in, but it did not change them. For them, Catholic life has been a relatively stable phenomenon (at least, until the eruption of scandal). In that sense, their Catholic identity has been more like their grandparents, or even great-grandparents, who died in a Catholic Church very similar to the Church of their birth.
Vatican II was like an earthquake – a sudden seismic shift. Those born afterward grow up in an altered landscape, but they do not share the outlook of those who lived through the jolting event itself.
The bottom line: the older generation shares an emotional bond rooted in the experience of Vatican II, and they grieve that their children do not also share that bond. As the V-IIs age, the challenge becomes: how to keep the memory, the flame, the legacy of Vatican II alive across this gap?
Forty-Five years ago last week, 2000 Catholic bishops arrived in Rome, one more time, for the fourth and final session of the Second Vatican Council. Autumn 1965 saw “Vatican II” conclude after four successive autumns (1962-1965) in which this massive gathering of bishops from every continent, along with their periti (theological experts) and several hundred non-Catholic observers, spent nearly 50 weeks of debate and decision-making to produce 16 major documents that transformed both the Catholic Church and the Christian world.
It was the biggest meeting in human history, held by the world’s largest organization. Historians call it “the most important religious event of the 20th century,” and the two presiding popes called it “a second Pentecost.” Since Catholics celebrate Pentecost as the “birthday of the Church,” this makes Vatican II the “rebirth of the Church.”
To undertake the rebirth of any organization twenty centuries after its founding is a huge milestone. Yet 45 years later, this milestone is in danger of disappearing from view – and I think I know why.
In my parish work I observe a widespread generation gap between two groups of people: “Vatican II” Catholics and “post-Vatican II” Catholics. In secular terms, this breakdown roughly resembles the line between Baby Boomers and their grown children. The more I observe the interaction of these two groups, the more obvious the generation gap appears – and the more important it becomes to find a solution.
Simply put, here is the problem: “Vatican II” Catholics lived through the Council and its aftermath. The Council experience began during the Cuban Missile Crisis, straddled Martin Luther King’s “I have a Dream” speech, JFK’s assassination, and the Civil Rights triumphs, and ended as troops arrived en masse in Vietnam. Where many high schools held model United Nations, mine held a model Vatican II every year. For them, Vatican II was among the major events of the “sixties.”
Most “Vatican II” Catholics remember Catholic life before Vatican II (that is, before 1962), and they remember too the surprise and turmoil during the Council itself, (‘62-‘65 ) and finally the euphoric and polarizing aftermath (1965-1978). For them, Vatican II didn’t “merely” change the Church (however historic and momentous that change once) – it also changed their lives. For many, it was the equivalent of an identity transplant. They became changed people forever.
But Vatican II was not a life-changing event for the Post-Vatican II Catholics. Vatican II changed the Church they grew up in, but it did not change them. For them, Catholic life has been a relatively stable phenomenon (at least, until the eruption of scandal). In that sense, their Catholic identity has been more like their grandparents, or even great-grandparents, who died in a Catholic Church very similar to the Church of their birth.
Vatican II was like an earthquake – a sudden seismic shift. Those born afterward grow up in an altered landscape, but they do not share the outlook of those who lived through the jolting event itself.
The bottom line: the older generation shares an emotional bond rooted in the experience of Vatican II, and they grieve that their children do not also share that bond. As the V-IIs age, the challenge becomes: how to keep the memory, the flame, the legacy of Vatican II alive across this gap?
Saturday, September 18, 2010
#306: The Religious Option
EXCERPT:
Sunday I attended the John F. Kennedy Library’s observance marking the 50th anniversary of JFK’s famous 1960 “Houston Speech.” Speakers included E.J. Dionne, James Carroll, Shaun Casey, and Chris Matthews.
…
JFK’s speech helped to reduce anti-Catholicism in American society by reassuring Americans about Catholics’ essential patriotism. But it also paved the way for the acceptance of other religions by proclaiming belief in an America where “religious liberty is so indivisible that an act against one church is treated as an act against all.”
This principle clearly applies to today’s controversies about the acceptance of Islam in America—and it raises the question: Who might now provide that same reassurance about American Muslims?
Ironically, the very man at the center of the controversy about the NYC Islamic Cultural Center also spoke on Sunday. In his address to the Council on Foreign Relations, Imam Feisal Abdul Rauf described how, on his own journey from 1960s Egypt to US citizenship, he discovered a religious country where religion is an option:
In America, we…protect different expressions of faith. We assemble in our various houses of worship to pray, to chant, to recite our sacred scriptures, or simply to come together in communion and draw together and draw strength as a community. But religion in America is not imposed on us: We can be as devout or as agnostic as we like.
That choice -- to be or not to be religious, or anything else for that matter -- forced me to think about who I was, who I am, what I truly wanted and chose to be; and has given me a profound appreciation for the country that provides these freedoms. In that sense, you could say that I found my faith in this country. So for me, Islam and America are organically bound together.
But this is not my story alone. The American way of life has helped many Muslims make a conscious decision to embrace their faith. That choice, ladies and gentlemen, is precious, and that is why America is precious.
This statement offers a wise insight to which many Americans remain blind. It also reflects the enduring wisdom of Kennedy’s speech.
In a world divided between religious and secular countries, America stands virtually alone. In most religious countries, religion is a social or even legal requirement, not an option. And in most countries guaranteeing religious liberty, secularism reigns. America may be unique in achieving religious liberty yet remaining religious.
The “religious option” works here. Imam Rauf’s comments reflect this glorious reality, and thus Kennedy’s enduring relevance to our day.
Sunday I attended the John F. Kennedy Library’s observance marking the 50th anniversary of JFK’s famous 1960 “Houston Speech.” Speakers included E.J. Dionne, James Carroll, Shaun Casey, and Chris Matthews.
…
JFK’s speech helped to reduce anti-Catholicism in American society by reassuring Americans about Catholics’ essential patriotism. But it also paved the way for the acceptance of other religions by proclaiming belief in an America where “religious liberty is so indivisible that an act against one church is treated as an act against all.”
This principle clearly applies to today’s controversies about the acceptance of Islam in America—and it raises the question: Who might now provide that same reassurance about American Muslims?
Ironically, the very man at the center of the controversy about the NYC Islamic Cultural Center also spoke on Sunday. In his address to the Council on Foreign Relations, Imam Feisal Abdul Rauf described how, on his own journey from 1960s Egypt to US citizenship, he discovered a religious country where religion is an option:
In America, we…protect different expressions of faith. We assemble in our various houses of worship to pray, to chant, to recite our sacred scriptures, or simply to come together in communion and draw together and draw strength as a community. But religion in America is not imposed on us: We can be as devout or as agnostic as we like.
That choice -- to be or not to be religious, or anything else for that matter -- forced me to think about who I was, who I am, what I truly wanted and chose to be; and has given me a profound appreciation for the country that provides these freedoms. In that sense, you could say that I found my faith in this country. So for me, Islam and America are organically bound together.
But this is not my story alone. The American way of life has helped many Muslims make a conscious decision to embrace their faith. That choice, ladies and gentlemen, is precious, and that is why America is precious.
This statement offers a wise insight to which many Americans remain blind. It also reflects the enduring wisdom of Kennedy’s speech.
In a world divided between religious and secular countries, America stands virtually alone. In most religious countries, religion is a social or even legal requirement, not an option. And in most countries guaranteeing religious liberty, secularism reigns. America may be unique in achieving religious liberty yet remaining religious.
The “religious option” works here. Imam Rauf’s comments reflect this glorious reality, and thus Kennedy’s enduring relevance to our day.
Monday, September 13, 2010
#110: Beyond the Boogieman—Part II
EXCERPT:
Even before 9/11, the man who would become Benedict XVI knew the dangers of religious fanaticism. In his book Salt of the Earth he said that while faith was intended for simple people, “The quest for certainty and simplicity becomes dangerous when it leads to fanaticism and narrow mindedness. When reason as such becomes suspect, then faith itself becomes falsified.”
Such fanaticism is not limited, of course, to Islam – there are Christian and Jewish fanatics as well. So when terror hit American shores on 9/11, the future Pope made it immediately clear that a “Boogieman” response to 9/11 would be wrong: “It is important not to attribute simplistically what happened on September 11 to Islam. It would be a great error.”
Benedict has no truck with the “Boogieman” mentality that sees threats everywhere in Islam. He has no interest in the kind of Islamophobia that has crept into American political discourse. Nor does he subscribe to scaring Christians into action by demonizing some evil force. Yet such paranoid demonizing has been chronic in America for more than 50 years. So Benedict’s vision is as challenging to American Catholics as it is to Muslims.
Upon his election, the Pope made a point of mentioning Muslims in an address the day after his installation mass:
"I am particularly grateful for the presence in our midst of members of the Muslim community, and I express my appreciation for the growth of dialogue between Muslims and Christians, both at the local and international level. I assure you that the church wants to continue building bridges of friendship with the followers of all religions."
And during World Youth Day, Benedict’s August 20 address to German-based Muslims left no mistaking his view about the importance of good Christian-Muslim relations. “Inter-religious and intercultural dialogue between Christians and Muslims,” he said, “cannot be reduced to an optional extra. It is in fact a vital necessity, on which enlargement of measure our future depends.”
To assure his listeners that this was not mere personal opinion, the Pope quoted Vatican Council II (where Joseph Ratzinger, not yet a bishop, served as theological consultant):
“The Church looks upon Muslims with respect. They worship the one God living and subsistent, merciful and almighty, creator of heaven and earth, who has spoken to humanity and to whose decrees…they seek to submit themselves whole-heartedly, just as Abraham, to whom the Islamic faith readily relates itself, submitted to God.”
And to show that his vision was neither ignorant nor naïve, the Pope again cited Vatican II’s acknowledgement of the stormy past relations between Christianity and Islam:
“Although considerable dissensions and enmities between Christians and Muslims may have arisen in the course of the centuries, the Council urges all parties that, forgetting past things, they train themselves towards sincere mutual understanding and together maintain and promote social justice and moral values as well as peace and freedom for all people.”
Even before 9/11, the man who would become Benedict XVI knew the dangers of religious fanaticism. In his book Salt of the Earth he said that while faith was intended for simple people, “The quest for certainty and simplicity becomes dangerous when it leads to fanaticism and narrow mindedness. When reason as such becomes suspect, then faith itself becomes falsified.”
Such fanaticism is not limited, of course, to Islam – there are Christian and Jewish fanatics as well. So when terror hit American shores on 9/11, the future Pope made it immediately clear that a “Boogieman” response to 9/11 would be wrong: “It is important not to attribute simplistically what happened on September 11 to Islam. It would be a great error.”
Benedict has no truck with the “Boogieman” mentality that sees threats everywhere in Islam. He has no interest in the kind of Islamophobia that has crept into American political discourse. Nor does he subscribe to scaring Christians into action by demonizing some evil force. Yet such paranoid demonizing has been chronic in America for more than 50 years. So Benedict’s vision is as challenging to American Catholics as it is to Muslims.
Upon his election, the Pope made a point of mentioning Muslims in an address the day after his installation mass:
"I am particularly grateful for the presence in our midst of members of the Muslim community, and I express my appreciation for the growth of dialogue between Muslims and Christians, both at the local and international level. I assure you that the church wants to continue building bridges of friendship with the followers of all religions."
And during World Youth Day, Benedict’s August 20 address to German-based Muslims left no mistaking his view about the importance of good Christian-Muslim relations. “Inter-religious and intercultural dialogue between Christians and Muslims,” he said, “cannot be reduced to an optional extra. It is in fact a vital necessity, on which enlargement of measure our future depends.”
To assure his listeners that this was not mere personal opinion, the Pope quoted Vatican Council II (where Joseph Ratzinger, not yet a bishop, served as theological consultant):
“The Church looks upon Muslims with respect. They worship the one God living and subsistent, merciful and almighty, creator of heaven and earth, who has spoken to humanity and to whose decrees…they seek to submit themselves whole-heartedly, just as Abraham, to whom the Islamic faith readily relates itself, submitted to God.”
And to show that his vision was neither ignorant nor naïve, the Pope again cited Vatican II’s acknowledgement of the stormy past relations between Christianity and Islam:
“Although considerable dissensions and enmities between Christians and Muslims may have arisen in the course of the centuries, the Council urges all parties that, forgetting past things, they train themselves towards sincere mutual understanding and together maintain and promote social justice and moral values as well as peace and freedom for all people.”
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