Showing posts with label Being Catholic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Being Catholic. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Twice Removed: Why Our Sacraments Often Don't Connect with Real Life



By Joseph Martos

Note: This commentary was first published February 20, 2016 by the National Catholic Reporter.

In the first two centuries of Christianity, theology was based in experience. Words that were later taken to refer to things that are outside the realm of experience were originally attempts to talk about things that the followers of Jesus were experiencing.

For example, when Paul wrote about justification by faith, he was not talking about getting right with God by believing in Christ, but getting your life straightened out by trusting that what Jesus taught is true. When the Book of Acts talks about being saved through baptism, it does not mean washing away sin by going through a ritual, but being rescued from selfishness by being immersed in a caring community.

Scholars who study other early documents like "The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles" (often called the Didache for short, from the Greek word for teaching) are finding that these writings were also attempts to spell out what the followers of Jesus were experiencing in their lives. But in the third century, things began to change.

Over time, the experience behind the early writings was forgotten. The writings were recognized as precious, called sacred Scriptures. Even the Didache appeared in some early lists of sacred Scriptures.

Christian intellectuals in the third century, sometimes called apologists, tried to explain their faith to people in the wider pagan world who suspected that the followers of Jesus were members of a dangerous cult. One apologist, Justin, compared the Christian community meal to a temple sacrifice, where pagans shared food in the presence of their god, to show that Christians were religious even though they did not worship in temples.

But other apologists began to talk about their faith as a set of beliefs rather than as a way of living. The words were becoming disconnected from the experiences.

In the fourth century, Constantine wanted to unify the Roman Empire with a single religion, so he legalized and promoted Christianity. When Christians began to travel freely throughout the empire, they discovered that people in different regions had different theologies. Instead of uniting Constantine's empire, Christians argued and divided it even further.

Constantine ordered all the bishops to his villa in Nicaea, and forced them to stay until they produced a document they could all agree on. They came up with the Nicene Creed, a statement of belief that said nothing about living like Jesus, but only about God and the church. The first removal of theology from the experience of Christian living was complete.


The Middle Ages

The attempt of the emperors to preserve the empire failed, and in the fifth century, the western half fell to barbarian invaders from the north. The so-called Dark Ages lasted until the 10th century. Theological thinking came to a halt while people struggled to survive.

Church life, on the contrary, evolved and flourished. The elaborate eucharistic liturgy got pared down to a Mass that could be said by missionaries who carried the faith to the tribes that were settling on the continent, and it was called a sacrifice even though no one remembered why.

Baptism became a short rite performed on babies in a church or adult converts in a river. Confirmation could be given by a bishop on horseback to children who were held up for him to touch. Private confession was introduced by monks for people who needed assurance of God's forgiveness.

Weddings became church ceremonies to be a public record of marriages. Ordination became a series of rites for apprentices who were learning how to be clerics as they ascended through a series of holy orders. Anointing of the sick began as a ministry to people who were ill, but in the absence of modern medicine, it became a last anointing called extreme unction.

By the 11th century, the chaos had subsided. The weather got warmer, farming flourished, commerce expanded, towns grew into cities, cathedrals were built, and schools were founded. Monks turned their attention from copying ancient manuscripts to studying them. Philosophy and theology were reborn.

Among other things, the schoolmen turned their attention to religious rituals, especially to sacraments. How did bread and wine turn into the body and blood of Christ? Why could baptism and confirmation be received only once? How did the sacraments of penance and extreme unction work? What were the different powers of priests and bishops? Why was the bond of marriage indissoluble?

The schoolmen did not realize, however, that much of their theological language was already somewhat removed from life. They thought that salvation meant going to heaven, that the gifts of the Holy Spirit were not experienced, that sins were remitted even if they were committed again, that the bond of marriage was indissoluble, that priestly powers were unrelated to priestly ministry, and that extreme unction could be received by someone who was unconscious.

They saw nothing amiss in a Mass that was performed by a priest using words that the people could not hear, much less understand, and who paid attention only when a bell was rung.

In many ways, sacramental ministry devolved into sacramental magic in the late Middle Ages, but the church's leadership rejected repeated calls for reform until the 16th century, by which time half of Europe had converted to Protestantism.

The Council of Trent reformed the sacramental system, eliminating the most superstitious practices, insisting that bishops be true shepherds of their flocks and that priests be trained in seminaries. From the 16th to the mid-20th centuries, Catholic sacramental practice and Catholic sacramental theology mirrored one another.

The baptismal and priestly characters explained why Catholics never left the church and why priests never left the ministry. The Eucharist was elevated at Mass and ensconced in a monstrance for exposition of the Blessed Sacrament, and was received only rarely, usually after a sincere confession of sins to a priest.

The indissoluble bond of marriage explained why Catholics never divorced. Confirmation and extreme unction did not have visible effects, but Catholics trusted that the former was good to receive in adolescence and the latter was good to receive before dying.

The Catholic church remained medieval in form and thought well into the 20th century.


Vatican II and after

At the Second Vatican Council, the world's Catholic bishops called for an updating of the church's sacramental practices. Historians and liturgists retrieved earlier forms of the Mass and other rites that had gotten lost during the Dark Ages — things like praying in the language of the people, receiving Communion in the forms of both bread and wine, rethinking the relation between sin and confession, and returning anointing to the context of ministry to the sick.

Unexpectedly, the unity of practice and theology began to dissolve. People stopped going to confession regularly. Priests began leaving the priesthood and the number of seminarians dwindled. Married Catholics started divorcing in greater numbers and even remarrying without waiting for an annulment.

The primary effect of confirmation seemed to be dropping out of church. Even baptism was no guarantee that people would remain Catholics or even Christians, as those who left the church sometimes became agnostics or atheists, Jews or Muslims.

Alarmed by this apparent defection, Popes John Paul II and Benedict XVI insisted on strict adherence to ecclesiastical rules, affirming traditional doctrines, stifling dissent, and denying any further developments in sacramental practice such as allowing deacons to anoint the sick or allowing priests to marry.

But the traditional doctrines no longer match Catholics' contemporary experience of church membership, marriage and ministry, not to mention their sense of sin and their experience of illness. Even Catholic worship feels different from the way it did in the days of the Latin Mass and Gregorian chant, and the previously strong sense of Christ's presence in the Eucharist is hard to recapture.

As happened in the third century, there is a growing gap between theology and experience, only this time the theology is twice removed from life. Official teachings about the Mass and sacraments are not only disconnected from people's everyday lives, but they are also often disconnected from people's experience of worship. For many people, the liturgy is not the main source of their spiritual nourishment, nor the high point of their week.

Around the time of Vatican II, Catholic thinkers like Edward Schillebeeckx, Karl Rahner, Bernard Cooke and Louis-Marie Chauvet tried to reinterpret the sacraments in more contemporary ways. Fifty years later, however, their work is not given much attention because it suffered from a fatal flaw.

Instead of reflecting on the experience of ritual worship, they reflected on the church's sacramental doctrines and tried to translate them into thought categories derived from existentialism and phenomenology, the psychology and sociology of religion, and even postmodern philosophy.

By being tied to medieval doctrines, however, these theologians had to explain why baptism is permanent, how confirmation gives spiritual strength, why confession is needed, how anointing benefits the sick, why marriage is indissoluble, and why the priesthood is forever.

But these ideas no longer correspond to the world inhabited by most Catholics, so contemporary theologies are just as removed from real life as the scholastic theology they had hoped to replace.

Is there a way out of the current confusion? There is, but it is neither a dogmatic reassertion of the past nor a freefall into cultural relativism. We need to rediscover what is essential to the Christian way of life, reinvent ways to ritualize that, and reformulate what those rituals mean in terms that are faithful both to the teachings of Jesus and to the experience of living in accordance with them.


Joseph Martos is a retired professor of religion and philosophy living in Louisville, Kentucky, where he divides his time between writing, social activism, and public speaking. He has held full-time teaching positions in Louisville KY, Allentown PA, Cincinnati OH, and Sioux City IA, and he has taught summer courses in over a dozen universities in the United States, Canada and Australia. He did graduate study in philosophy and theology at Gregorian University and Boston College, and earned a doctorate from DePaul University in Chicago, writing a dissertation on Bernard Lonergan's theory of transcendent knowledge. He served as the director of the Russell Institute of Religion and Ministry at Spalding University until the university discontinued all of its humanities programs in 2003. Martos is the author of many books and articles on the sacraments. His book The Sacraments: An Interdisciplinary and Interactive Study deconstructs Catholic sacramental theology, exposing its conceptual flaws and intellectual instability. This article is based on research published in Deconstructing Sacramental Theology and Reconstructing Catholic Ritual (Wipf and Stock, 2015).

Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Catholic Leaders Stand With Obama on Guns and Demand Republicans Follow His Lead

By Sarah Jones


Note: This commentary was first published January 5, 2016 by PoliticusUSA.


This one is going to hurt Republicans, but it’s right on, because responsible gun measures are a moral issue. Catholics are praising President Obama for taking his announced executive action on gun control.

“President Obama’s executive actions announced today are a welcomed step forward towards ending the scandal of gun violence that continues to plague our nation,” began a statement sent to PoliticusUSA by Christopher J. Hale, Executive Director of Catholics in Alliance for the Common Good.

They cited Pope Francis calling out the only reason these deadly weapons are being sold to those who plan to inflict harm, “Pope Francis’s words to Congress last September continue to ring in our ears: ‘Why are deadly weapons being sold to those who plan to inflict untold suffering on individuals and society? Sadly, the answer, as we all know, is simply for money: money that is drenched in blood, often innocent blood. In the face of this shameful and culpable silence, it is our duty to confront the problem.'”

The money changers are in the temple of Congress.

The Catholics in Alliance for the Common Good called on Congress to follow President Obama’s lead and take action, “Today the President has made a significant step towards doing so. Now it’s up to Congress to follow through so that the dream of the prophet Isaiah can become our nation’s lived reality: a place where spears and swords are beaten into ploughshares and pruning hooks and where peace and justice will prosper.”

The Catholics in Alliance for the Common Good is, according to Wikipedia, a non-partisan, Roman Catholic, non-profit 501(c)(3) organization which aims to promote “the fullness of the Catholic social tradition in the public square”.

According to their website (my bold), “Catholics in Alliance for the Common Good promotes public policies and effective programs that enhance the inherent dignity of all, especially the poor and most vulnerable. Our work is inspired by Gospel values and the rich history of Catholic social teaching as they inform pressing moral issues of our time. We accomplish our goals through public policy analysis and advocacy, strategic media outreach, and engaging citizens in the service of the common good.”

President Obama is on the right moral side of this argument, and as he likes to remind everyone, a majority of gun owners also agree so he has political will backing his executive action, if moral responsibility is not enough. Republicans have nothing but worn out, stale, debunked NRA talking points. As a nation, we need to stand up to the NRA and support our President in taking these important steps to putting human lives over profit margins.


Related Off-site Links:
Obama Unveils Presidential Plan to Cut Gun Violence – Bill Chappell (National Public Radio News, January 5, 2016).
Obama: “The Gun Lobby May Hold Congress Hostage, But They Can Not Hold America Hostage” – Jason Easley (PoliticusUSA, January 5, 2016).


Sunday, April 5, 2015

Jesus' Radical Politics

By Brandon Ambrosino


In his kingdom, enemies are loved, the marginalized prioritized,
and wealth inequality exposed for the sham it is.


Note: This op-ed was first published April 1, 2015 by The Boston Globe.


Two thousand years have sanitized Easter for most people. Jesus is alive, we sing each spring, and now let’s get on with lilies and chocolates and bunnies and think about what his resurrection means for us — namely, that we get to go to heaven when we die, and perhaps more important, a lot of other people don’t.

A more careful look at the Gospels, however, might offer a much less sentimental, much more startling picture of the original Easter message, which was decidedly not, “Jesus is alive, and here’s what that means for the next world.” Rather, the true lesson was: “Jesus is alive, and here’s what that means for this one.”

The central claim of Easter — and indeed, of Christianity — has always been that the rejected, tortured, crucified, dead, and then resurrected Jesus is somehow Lord of the entire earth. If that doesn’t sound particularly scandalous today, imagine you’re hearing it for the first time while living in the Roman Empire. As many New Testament scholars argue, hearing “Jesus is Lord” in the first century might sound suspiciously like a bold rejection of the standard Roman creed at the time: “Caesar is Lord.” (There is a lot of discussion about this, but even a quick glance of the Gospels and Acts shows that the texts contain instances of anti-imperial rhetoric.)

What’s radical about Easter, then, is not that Christians claim a dead man rose from the dead. What’s radical is what that means — specifically, what it meant for Rome, and, by implication, what it means for all kingdoms everywhere, including the ones we live in. Jesus’ resurrection marked the end of Caesar’s way of doing things. It established a new kingdom in which enemies are loved, the marginalized are given primacy of place, and the poor are blessed. In this kingdom, hierarchies are subverted, concentrated power is decentralized, and prodigal children are welcomed home. Black lives matter here, as do queer lives and the lives of undocumented aliens within our borders — “Remember the stranger in your midst” is a common refrain in this kingdom.

Of course, speaking about Jesus in such a political way is not without its dangers. Many with political agendas are guilty of branding their particular ideologies with the name of Jesus, both on the right and left. But there’s no denying that, at least in recent US history, conservatives have been ready to marry God and government. As a result, Christianity has come to be associated less with policies aimed at helping the poor — and more with those that often serve to keep them down. The tragic irony, of course, is that, as the Gospel of Luke teaches, Jesus’ ministry is inaugurated with the announcement that the Spirit of the Lord compels him to preach good news to the poor.

Though the name of God is sometimes invoked to justify war and greed and the oppression of already marginalized persons, the broken body of Jesus seems rather like a prophetic protest against those values. Philosopher John Caputo discusses this irony in his 2007 book, “What Would Jesus Deconstruct?” — a play on the phrase “What Would Jesus Do?” that many conservatives have plastered onto their cars, T-shirts, bracelets, etc.

The gospels, Caputo writes, invite us to imagine a new way of life where the poetics of Jesus’ kingdom are transformed into political structures:

“What would it be like if there really were a politics of the bodies of flesh that proliferate in the New Testament, a politics of mercy and compassion, of lifting up the weakest and most defenseless people at home, a politics of welcoming the stranger and of loving one’s enemies abroad? What would it be like if there were a politics of and for the children, who are the future; a politics not of sovereignty, of top-down power, but a politics that builds from the bottom up, where ta me onta [lit. “the nothings”] enjoy pride of place and a special privilege?”

Caputo then asks this frightening question: “Would [this politics] not be in almost every respect the opposite of the politics that presently passes itself off under the name of Jesus?”

One look at current events across the globe today, and Caputo’s imaginings may be easily dismissed. How can Americans simply turn the other cheek to our warring enemies? How can anyone expect the government to make sure each child is looked after? And working to eliminate poverty? Wasn’t Jesus talking about spiritual poverty? That’s a private matter, not a public one. Those kinds of policies just aren’t practical in 2015.

Of course they aren’t. They weren’t practical in Jesus’ day, either. That’s one of the reasons Jesus was killed. He was, to use Caputo’s word, mad. How else do you explain his teachings? Love your enemies. Bless those who curse you. Do good to them who use you. Do not retaliate. Look after your neighbor. The meek will inherit the earth.

But the madness of God is wiser than the wisdom of man, as Paul reminds us, just like God’s weakness is stronger than human strength. And it’s the kingdom of this God — who, contrary to what anyone expected, is weak, mad, and disruptive — that Jesus is both announcing and installing.

“If I, with the finger of God, cast out demons among you, then the Kingdom of God has come near to you,” says Jesus, and his Jewish hearers might have understood the scandalous reference. Scandalous because in this brief line, Jesus seems to be identifying himself with the same God who heard the cry of oppressed Israel and took it upon himself to liberate them from Egypt. As the Book of Exodus recounts, when Pharaoh refuses Moses’ request to let the Hebrews go, a battle of miracles quickly ensues. Though Pharaoh’s magicians try to imitate the wonders that Moses ascribes to God, they don’t succeed. “This is the finger of God,” they explain to Pharaoh, which creates wonders, which liberates God’s people from the empires that enslave them. The finger of God, they reluctantly acknowledge, is mightier than the strongest arm of any world leader.

In reinterpreting this passage around his life and ministry, Jesus is giving us a glimpse into what he thought of himself (who but God alone works wonders by the finger of God?) as well as into what he thought about his kingdom: that, though it’s ultimate fulfillment will be in the future, look around you — it’s already here. As New Testament scholar N.T. Wright explains, for Jesus, God’s kingdom “wasn’t just an aspiration; it was an accomplishment.” Jesus was convinced that his life and preaching and miracles were bringing about the kingdom his followers had longed for.

Only, Jesus’ kingdom of peace and love looked much different than the one that Jews at the time hoped the Messiah would establish. One of Jesus’ more cryptic sayings is found in Matthew’s Gospel. After a strange discussion of kingdom, Jesus compares his audience to children sitting in the marketplace singing to each other, “We played the flute for you, but you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not mourn.” Jesus, he hears them say, you are not the Messiah we expected. To which he responds: I will not dance when you tell me to dance. I will not cry when you tell me to cry. I will not be the Messiah you tell me to be. I am here to show you a different sort of dance, a different way; follow me, and build my father’s kingdom, which looks very different than the ones you cling to.

This is the prophetic memory of Jesus that rushes toward us today. What would Jesus do if he showed up today, say, in Washington, D.C.? Would he turn a blind eye to racial injustices in Ferguson and elsewhere? Would he lobby to ensure that entire swaths of our population continue to feel as if they don’t belong in their cities, in their religious congregations, in their local bakeries? Would he, interested as he is in the physical bodies of all he encounters, enact policies that bar people from the health care they desperately need?

At the same time, can we really be sure that Jesus would protest with Wall Street Occupiers, railing against the one percent? This is the same Jesus who, as Luke recounts, tells his followers that if just one of their sheep wanders away from the fold, they are to leave the 99 and go after the one percent. And can we be equally sure that this Jesus, who has no patience for greed, would spend all of his energy condemning the wealthy? This is the same Jesus, after all, who is rumored to be the friend of tax collectors.

This is why it won’t do merely to begin with a political ideology and brand it with Jesus’ memory. The memory of Jesus is disruptive to all kingdoms, to all earthly powers, without respect to any specific political affiliation or agenda.

What we can imagine that Jesus would probably do — indeed what he definitely did do, is to suddenly, without warning, announce that his new kingdom is breaking in upon all of us, has broken in upon us, and that this kingdom is almost the exact reversal of what any of us thought kingdoms were supposed to be. This new king will not tolerate oppression and systemic poverty, nor he will excuse violence directed at those in power. He has no patience for any dirges or dances. He is here about his father’s business.

THE BELLS of Easter Sunday, comforting though they may be, are actually a call to war, albeit a nonviolent kind of war; a call to rise up, to act up, to announce to the powers and principalities that rule our nations that their power has an expiration date, that their rule is a sham, that their kingdom has been undone by the one who undoes death.

The rebuttal here has always been: Open your eyes. This kingdom you’re talking about — where the last are first, where the outsiders are preferred — is not here. There is war. There is evil. There is death and rape and racism and unemployment and sex trafficking. There is a brutally agonizing world here and now, and to pretend otherwise is either naive or morally bankrupt.

But Easter doesn’t deny these things. After all, even the resurrected body of Jesus contains crucifixion scars, which are Jesus’ eternal reminder that he was murdered by the very people he came to save. What Easter teaches is this: Even in the midst of the kingdom you’re living in, it’s possible to actually pledge loyalty to a different one. By feeding the hungry, forgiving your enemies, and providing shelter for the homeless, you can actually choose to live in the kingdom Jesus established.

Hope, then, is not a spiritual thing, or a reflective exercise; it’s decidedly physical. If you believe Jesus was raised from the dead, the obligation that Jesus puts upon you is to meet people’s physical needs. “Do not abandon yourselves to despair,” said Pope John Paul II. “We are the Easter people, and alleluia is our song.”

This alleluia is both a praise and protest. The world is made new, alleluia, and all lives matter. Creation is transformed, alleluia, and therefore let us embrace the strangers in our midst. The tomb is empty, alleluia, now let us work to heal the hurt of all those who have been discriminated against, made to feel like second-class citizens. In God’s kingdom, after all, there is only one class of citizen, because all have inherited the same birthright from their heavenly father.

Two thousand years later, the promise of Easter has not lost its power. The risen Jesus, then as now, invites us to live in this world as if it is somehow a different world.

Because, alleluia, it is.


Brandon Ambrosino covers culture and religion for Vox.com.

Monday, February 16, 2015

Save the Date!

The League of Catholic Women
invites you to

Many Places at the Table:
The Contemporary Roman Catholic Church in the USA

with

Fr. Michael Joncas




Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Gather at 6:45 p.m.
Program begins promptly at 7:00 p.m.

The Woman's Club
410 Oak Grove St.
Minneapolis (south of Loring Park)
Free parking in adjacent lot
and in the lot across the street.

Cost: $15.00
Reservation checks due by February 20 to
League of Catholic Women
410 Oak Grove St.
Minneapolis, MN 55403

$20 for walk-ins on the day.


Fr. Joncas' presentation will address a number of important issues, questions and themes, including:

• What are the major national and international church events that help shape the different faith styles of contemporary Catholics?

• What are the central loyalties of each group?

• What are the obstacles to, and the opportunities for, conversations within and across the boundaries surrounding these different understandings of our shared Catholic faith?

• When we recite the Nicene Creed we profess our belief in "one catholic church." We should come away from this evening with a deeper understanding of just what that means in today's world.

Friday, January 30, 2015

I'm a Catholic Feminist, and My Church Needs Me More Than Ever

By Kristina Keneally


Note: This op-ed was first published January 28, 2015 by The Guardian.


I recall standing in my grandmother’s kitchen with her yellow Bakelite phone to my ear, waiting on hold for a talkback radio program. I was eight years old, and my family was in another room listening to the Catholic Bishop of Toledo take questions from callers on the local AM station.

Finally it was my turn. “Bishop Donovan,” I said, “I’m in third grade. The priest at our school has come to our class to ask for boys to volunteer to be altar servers. Why can’t girls volunteer too?”

Poor Bishop Donovan. He mumbled something about church tradition and the importance of serving at mass as a first step towards priesthood – where, again, one obviously had to be male – and moved on to the next caller.

Unsatisfactory, I thought. And my career as a Catholic feminist began.

38 years later, I’m still a Catholic and a feminist. I’ve got a degree in religious studies, specialising in feminist theology, and while girls can be altar servers now (take that, Bishop Donovan), we’ve still got a long way to go, baby.

Pope Francis’s recent comment that Catholics need not “breed like rabbits,” while insisting that artificial contraception is still banned, left many shaking their heads. Here was yet another example of the all-male Catholic hierarchy completely failing to understand what it is like to be a woman, or to live in a family, or to exercise control over fertility.

The Catholic church so overtly and fully excludes women from certain jobs and seeks to deny them certain rights that some dismiss the idea that a true feminist can profess the Catholic faith. Yet this is precisely why the Catholic church needs feminists.

The idea that one can’t be a Catholic and a feminist usually starts with a misunderstanding of what it is to be Catholic. In strict technical terms, a Catholic is someone who believes in those things listed in the Apostles Creed and the Nicene Creed: God, the creator of heaven and earth; Jesus Christ, the son of God who was crucified, died and resurrected; the Holy Spirit; the holy Catholic church (that is, the entire community of those who believe in Jesus Christ); the communion of saints; the forgiveness of sins; the resurrection of the body and life everlasting.

That’s it. No mention in our creeds of artificial contraception, an all-male priesthood, denying communion to divorced people or excluding homosexuals. It’s not particularly surprising – not one of the four Gospels records Jesus passing significant comments on such matters.

Everything in the Catholic church after Jesus’s death and resurrection represents human attempts to interpret and apply the teachings of Christ to our circumstances. Because men fairly exclusively ran the world until very recently, it has been fairly exclusively men in the Catholic church who’ve done the interpreting and applying. Not overly surprising, then, that the result is a set of teachings and rules that exclude and oppress women.

A Catholic feminist insists that women’s experience is just as valid as men’s when it comes to understanding the nature of God, the teachings of Christ, the movement of the Holy Spirit and how we are to live as Christians in the world today.

OK, I hear you saying, but how can a Catholic disagree with the church? Don’t you Catholics believe the (male) pope is infallible? Aren’t you required to follow what the (exclusively male) bishops say?

There’s no simple answer to that question, but the short answer is no. First of all, papal infallibility (and its related concept, the infallibility of the church) is not what people often think it is. The pope is not infallible in every utterance he makes. In fact, he only very occasionally speaks infallibly, and when he does it is specifically noted. For example, the Assumption of Mary (into heaven) is an infallible teaching. The ban on artificial contraception is not.

Secondly, a Catholic has an obligation to follow her fully-formed conscience, even if it brings her into conflict with church teaching. A fully-formed conscience consults not only scripture and church teaching but also the sciences and human experience.

Conscience is a crucially important aspect of Catholic teaching and was given great emphasis in Vatican II, the reforming and modernising council that took place between 1962-65. Conservative popes – such as John Paul II – have sought to redefine conscience in order to discourage debate and dissent, but the role of a fully-formed conscience in the life of Catholics is significant and cannot be extinguished.

A Catholic feminist is a bit like a conscientious objector. She loves what sits at the heart of her faith, and fights what she cannot, in good conscience, accept in her church.

Sometimes people ask me why I don’t just leave such an anachronistic institution and join a Christian church where women can have a say, serve as ordained minsters and formally contribute to theological and moral teachings. Sometimes I ask myself the same question. It’s not easy being a Catholic feminist – sometimes it is downright infuriating – but I love the sacraments and the liturgy of the Catholic church, and I love the value it places on scripture and tradition. Why should I abandon my expression of faith to the all-male hierarchy? Why not stay and advocate for a more inclusive church, better theology, and teachings more reflective of the lived experience of women?

I’m no saint, but when I am most exasperated with the church, I recall that among the communion of saints are hundreds of examples of people who openly disagreed with the church hierarchy. Think of Mary MacKillop – excommunicated at one point – now elevated to sainthood by the same institution that threw her out.

Agitators for change are part of the Catholic church’s rich history: Catholic feminists follow in that tradition.


Related Off-site Links:
Altar Server Scandal is Reminder of How Far the Catholic Church Has to Go with Women – Lydia O'Connor (The Huffington Post, January 30, 2015).
Vatican Hits Sour Note with Women, But Progress May Come – Nicole Winfield (Associated Press via Yahoo! News, January 31, 2015).
Pope Francis, Women, and the Band of Brothers: The Ambiguity of the Jesuit Heritage That's Being Ignored by Commentators on Francis as Reformer – William D. Lindsey (Bilgrimage, January 31, 2015).


Saturday, July 26, 2014

Embracing Ambiguous Parables: Looking for Insight on Justice and Change in the Church

By Bill Moseley


Note: The following is the text of a reflection delivered before the start of mass at St. Frances Cabrini Catholic Church on the weekend of July 19-20, 2014.


People of God, my name is Bill Moseley and it is my privilege to reflect with you on today’s readings.

Some days it’s hard to motivate myself to go to church. I’m not talking about a lack of gumption to get out of bed, but rather about being shocked by news stories so bad that you’re embarrassed to self identify as a Catholic. This was one of those weeks for me. Listening to MPR’s investigative journalism series about the clergy sexual abuse cover up in the Twin Cities Catholic Church, and learning of a new lawsuit against the Archdiocese, made me simultaneously grateful for good journalists and aghast at how wayward an institution representing the teachings of Jesus had become.

It is with this frustration and malaise that I approached this week’s Gospel reading which, perhaps serendipitously, had something to say about good versus bad, justice versus injustice. In this Gospel (Matthew 13: 24-43) we hear three parables, followed by a troublesome explanation. While I’ll come back to the explanation, the first parable portrays a farmer who instructs his workers to wait on removing weeds from his wheat field until harvest time (the weeds having been sown by an enemy). The second and third parables then describe heaven using two different metaphors: heaven is like the small mustard seed that grows into a bush; and heaven is like yeast that a woman kneads into flour making the batch of dough rise.

As a college professor, I’ve always admired Jesus’ abilities as a teacher. While many teachers are loath to admit this, students actually forget the vast majority of what we impart to them. For example, while I think it’s pretty darn cool that the Tropic of Capricorn may be found at 23 ½ degrees south latitude, and that this is the southernmost point of direct solar radiation, these factoids almost instantly vanish from my students’ minds after the midterm exam. However, what many good teachers learn over time is that stories stick in students’ minds much longer than factoids. Indeed, students may forget the textbook explanation of the Tropic Capricorn – but still recall my story of being busted for speeding by the police in Botswana as I raced over the Tropic of Capricorn in 2012 – excitedly telling my son that we were crossing this line on, of all days, March 21 – the vernal equinox.

Clearly Jesus knew the power of stories as an effective way to convey understanding. Much of what we know he actually said has been passed down to us in the context of these stories (or versions of these stories), which still resonate some 2000 years later. Jesus also liked to work in metaphors. The Bible, reflecting the largely rural livelihoods of the time it was written, is rife with agricultural and pastoral metaphors and stories. The nice thing about a metaphorical story is that not only is there a greater chance that it will be remembered, but it often allows you to convey a certain amount or nuance or even contradiction.

The challenge for us in our contemporary American setting is that the majority of us have little or no connection to agriculture. Therefore the nuance and contradiction embedded in these stories and metaphors may be lost on us – or worse yet – reinterpreted to a different end.

Take the first parable about the farmer who instructs his workers to wait on removing weeds from his wheat field until harvest time (the weeds having been sown by an enemy). This is interesting on a couple of different fronts. The first is that letting weeds mature alongside your wheat crop is bad agricultural advice because weeds compete with your crop, resulting in a poor harvest. While the folly of such advice might not jump out at us now, it likely would have been apparent to Jesus’ largely agrarian audience – and a very strong signal that this story was indeed a metaphor for something else. The metaphorical meaning, many believe, is a warning to not rush to pass judgment, to not be too hasty to identify and pull weeds - or to sort out the bad from the good.

Now why might Jesus urge such caution? It could be that we just don’t know enough to adequately differentiate between the weeds and the wheat, between the bad and the good. For example, I distinctly recall as a young Peace Corps volunteer going out to work in the farm fields of my host family in Mali, West Africa. The task was to weed a millet field early in the growing season. The challenge for me was that the young millet plants and the weeds were virtually indistinguishable. As such, with all the good intention of helping my host family, I set about pulling up their prized millet plants which would grow into a staple food crop. Fortunately my family quickly noticed the unfolding destruction and, ever so graciously, suggested that I might take a break.

The other reason for caution and restraint in rushing to judgment is that weeds, like bad or even evil behavior, can be subjectively classified as such. Take the common dandelion. Americans spend millions annually to expunge this so-called weed from their lawns. In contrast, my depression era grandmother used to eat dandelion greens as a staple in her summer diet. In fact, dandelions have been gathered as food for millennia, and were cultivated for consumption in some areas of Eurasia. Furthermore, dandelion leaves contain abundant vitamins and are good sources of calcium, potassium, iron and manganese. The point is that dandelions are nutritious food in some contexts, and weeds (or something to be expunged) in another. Dare I suggest that our distinctions between right and wrong can sometimes be similarly subjective. For example, mixed race and same-sex relationships were long viewed as illegal, wrong, and punishable in our country. This only began to change after a protracted civil rights struggle – and such relationships are still seen as a problem in many areas of the US and the world. As such, given the somewhat subjective nature of classifying good and bad, caution and restraint in rushing to judgment is sound advice.

While we need to be cautious and careful about passing judgment, does this mean there is no room for distinguishing between good and bad, or for calling out injustice when we see it? The problematic explanation at the end of the gospel offers one possible answer to this question. It suggests that “the evildoers [will be thrown] into the fiery furnace, where they will weep and gnash their teeth… [and] the just will shine like the sun in the realm of God.” In other words, it suggests (in a way) that we put up with the current injustice with the comfort of knowing that justice will be rendered in the afterlife. Now, I’ll be honest, I flagged this explanation as problematic because I don’t really care for the fire and brimstone language. I see the advice as a palliative for the masses (urging people to put up with bad situations), and most biblical scholars agree that this passage was added at a later date and does not reflect something Jesus actually said.

I suggest that the answer to our question, about whether or not there is room for calling out injustice in the present, might lie in the second and third parables. Again, these parables liken heaven to: a mustard seed that grows into a bush; or a person kneading yeast into flour, allowing for all of the dough to rise. In both these parables I see a ‘justice trickling-up’ philosophy. Good starts in small and humble places and then grows, slowly at first, gaining momentum with time. We needn’t wait for justice until the afterlife. We, the people, the church, working proactively, can make good things happen and triumph over injustice. In other words, our actions for justice matter. We need to be active not passive.

Now before you feel too good about my interpretation, I want to be clear that some ambiguity and tension lurks in these parables as I read them. On the one hand, Jesus is cautioning us to not rush to judgment, to be careful about categorizing good and evil. On the other hand, he tells us that justice and hope rise from below, that we can build heaven on earth, and that we must address injustice in this world. Be cautious, careful and fair, but not to the point of inaction.

Coming back to where I started, the news this week about the Archdiocese was very painful for me to hear. However I take heart in the fact that the church is us, not the Archdiocese. What I believe this crisis makes clear is that governance in the institution popularly known as the Roman Catholic Church really has to change if it is to continue serving and representing the people, the real church. While clergy sexual misconduct appears to be the problem, underlying this are deeper issues of transparency, open governance, and equal participation by all. We, of course, need to be careful, cautious and fair in addressing the injustice and crimes highlighted in this institutional crisis (all humans are fallible and deserve forgiveness). Real change implies that the hierarchy of power within the institution may and ought to shift radically as a result of this crisis. We should not be afraid of this change. We’ve been slowly working the dough for a long time and, to borrow from Terry Dosh, now it is time for the bread to rise.

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Broadly Catholic, Narrowly Catholic: Can the Two Ways Pull Together to Save the Institutional Church?

Question posted by Paula Ruddy


As much as we all want this long culture war to be over, the conflict is hard to resolve. It came up in a committee in my parish this week; it is the main thread on the dotcommonweal blog just now about the role of Catholic theologians. The conflict is a constant undercurrent in Catholic life.

Usually labeled “liberalism” and “conservatism,” the division has been thoroughly analyzed for why it exists, what historical and psychological factors account for it. But what is the bottom line?

I’m calling it a difference between broad and narrow and I am asking you not to place a value on either word for the time being. Like the uses of optical lenses, both broad and narrow are good, but they are different. Narrow can be “bad” because it misses a lot. Broad can be “bad” because it can get very fuzzy without showing anything clearly. There are upsides and downsides to both.

Broadly Catholic Catholics recognize God in “the world” (hereafter BC’s). Another way of being Catholic is to recognize God within the Roman Catholic magisterial world, as distinct from “the world.” It is a narrower focus (hereafter NC’s). BC’s set out into the “secular” world in a maze of paths, highways, byways, guided by faith, the tradition, and a community, discerning the true, the good, and the beautiful from step to step. NC’s are happy with the path laid out by the magisterial community, illuminating the true, the good, and the beautiful in age old forms, warning of fruitless byways and evil open highways. Tradition is a guide to the BC’s, a set path for the NC’s. Too simple, I know, but the general idea is useful.

The bottom line raises fearful questions: if most Catholics turn to “the world” to be broadly Catholic, will the Roman Catholic magisterial world fall apart? If dogma is discarded because we all now know that truth is always on the horizon of knowledge, and goodness and beauty are all around us, what will happen to the magisterium? Will it have finances and authority to continue? If that world falls apart, how will the tradition be maintained and grow? Will most “broadly Catholic” people lose their way to the world’s banality without the guidance of the large community? Will Catholics who depend most on the Roman Catholic magisterial world be left behind with no support?

I see the magisterium in the Archdiocese of St. Paul and Minneapolis trying to solve the problem by narrowing the focus, trying to gather Catholics together for strength inside the corral of dogma, Catholic identity, pre-Vatican II practices, condemnation of “broadly Catholic” and “the world.” They are looking to Evangelical Protestantism for ways to narrow the focus and attract more people to be churched.

Wouldn’t it be better to spend the energy talking with the “broadly Catholic” to find ways to support all Catholics in living in the world and maybe even to influence the world? Could we get some leadership in that direction? What does anyone think?

Thursday, May 29, 2014

"Labor Priests" Reviving Social Justice Teachings—and Action

By Robert Richter

Labor priests are once again gaining numbers,
advocating for workers and walking with them.

Above: Police arrest Father Andrew Switzer, a West Virginia priest and the son of coal miners, during a Mine Workers rally to save pensions and health care. (Photo: CNS/David Kameras, courtesy of UMWA)


Note: This article was first published May 28, 2014 by LaborNotes.org.


"Labor priests" were a recognized presence in the labor movement of the 1920s through the 1960s. Father Barry, the Karl Malden character in the 1954 film On the Waterfront, was the model of the priest who sided with workers.

Priests conducted Parish Labor Schools where workers interested in collective bargaining studied Catholic social justice doctrine, labor law, and parliamentary procedure.

While parish-based Labor Schools have been largely replaced today by worker centers, labor priests are once again gaining numbers (100 at last count) who share their vision that to diminish workers is to rob them of their God-given vocation.

The Priest-Labor Initiative was founded in 2012 by Father Clete Kiley and held its third meeting this month in Atlanta, with two dozen priests in attendance. Kiley was pastor of a large immigrant parish in Chicago, worked on organizing drives at university food services and at O’Hare airport, and is now director for immigration policy for UNITE HERE, the hotel workers union.


Pope’s Overhead Cover

Labor priests are doing at the parish level what Pope Francis is doing at his level. Immigration reform, income inequality, human trafficking, a living wage are some of the justice and peace issues on labor priests’ agenda, with overhead cover from Francis.

The present-day labor priest is focused on the community as a core value, insisting that all members of the community receive an adequate share in the fruits of their labor. As he deals with those who labor and are heavily burdened by underemployment, no employment, low wages, no health care, wage theft, assault and abuse in the workplace, he can be a source of compassion, mercy, and counsel. To all he says, “Come, let us reason together how to make the workplace more humane.”

Especially objectionable are imaginative, creative but harmful tactics that cheat the worker of a livelihood, health care, earned vacation time, and sick leave, and plunder pensions. At another level, the practice of pumping infusions of cash to legislators through lobbyists to fix the scales of justice for cheating, or shifting public services like hospitals, postal, prisons, and schools to for-profit contracts is even more troubling.

Labor priests believe there is a role for visible clergy supporting the religious, moral, and spiritual dimension of work, to advocate for oppressed workers, and to walk with them— especially to witness when they return to work after an action. Clergy played this role after the fast-food strikes, escorting workers back to the workplace to fend off retaliation.

So priests continue to gather for the two-day Priest-Labor Initiative training events to develop a network and to invite priests to become closer with working-class men and women.

Actions the reader might take to help grow labor priests:

• Ask your priest to conduct a listening session for workers to tell their stories and discuss what to do about things they want to change, using parish facilities like parking, meeting rooms, and kitchen.

• Ask the priest to observe an organized worker action and be present, especially after, to witness events when workers go back in to work.

The bottom line for labor priests: This is not a special ministry. This is what we do as Catholic leaders.


Robert Richter is a parish priest in Arlington, Virginia, and attended the April 2014 Labor Notes Conference.

Sunday, February 9, 2014

12 Awesome, Radical Catholic Ideas

By Nathan Schneider


Note: This commentary was first published February 9, 2014 by The Daily Beast.


These are interesting times to be Catholic. Pope Francis has put a spirit of change in the air, a kind of change that brings the faith back to its roots. When I became Catholic as a teenager, the sex abuse scandals were going from bad to worse; the Catholic legacy of outward social justice and inward contemplation drew me to the church, but they were mostly obscured from public view. That has begun to change, finally—though the recent United Nations report on sex abuse is another reminder that there is still a long, long way to go.

Francis’ call for a church with open doors and concern for the poor is just a tiny glimpse of what might be in store. There’s a lot more where that came from. The Catholic Church is many things, and it has a lot to ask forgiveness for, but part of it is also a 2,000-year effort to devise a social order based on love. This is neither Democratic or Republican. It’s meant to be as universal as it is radical, and Francis has only scratched the surface.


The poor are the bosses

The notion of “the preferential option for the poor” is bandied about a lot by Catholics, but often without really hearing the words. Jesus said that what we do for the least among us is what we do for him; the justice of a society, then, is not to be measured by the wealthy, or even the middle class, but the poor. What if the State of the Union were delivered by a homeless teenager in Detroit or the Bronx? When our picture of society privileges the most vulnerable, we start seeing every aspect of it upside down.


Usury: not okay

On January 29, Francis referred to usury as “a dramatic social ill.” This isn’t a word we’ve heard much of for a few centuries, but throughout much of Catholicism’s history—as well as that of Judaism and Islam—the church has considered profiting from the crippling debt of others a grave sin. Francis was denouncing egregious Italian loan-sharks, but this concept implicates our whole economy when bankers make billions designing loans that can make lifelong entrapment in debt the price of attending college, receiving medical care or owning a home.


Labor is about people

Jesus was a carpenter; the Apostle Paul made tents for a living, even though his followers could’ve supported him. Their examples, and the experience of ordinary Catholics, have resulted in the church’s commitment to the fundamental dignity of work and workers—including migrants forced to cross borders to earn a better wage. The people hired in a business are not disposable assets. They are the heart of the organization, and the church upholds their right to form a union to ensure they are treated as such. At a time when “right to work” has become a byword for union-busting, this is radical indeed.


Anarchy, almost

It might come as a surprise for a church known for its centralized authority, but Catholic social teaching calls for “subsidiarity,” or local autonomy, whenever possible. Even the pope is technically just one bishop among the others, which is why Francis has called for the Vatican to share more power with bishops. The economic theory of distributivism—held by Catholics as varied as G.K. Chesterton and Dorothy Day—proposes a society where the means of production are controlled by cooperatives of families and small collectives, not corporations or governments.


You can’t own everything

The Book of Acts says that in the earliest church, “No one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they had everything in common.” While the church since then has allowed private property, property should never be allowed to trump the common good. A cathedral in the center of a city symbolizes the Catholic belief that the most beautiful and valuable assets should be held in common. This runs in stark contrast to the temptation to privatize every resource and turn it into a profitable market. It’s also why the church, under Pope Benedict, identified environmental pollution among the “new forms of social sin.”


War is really, really hard to justify

Catholic pacifists have lamented the church’s official espousal of just war theory, but the conditions for a just war are far stricter than anything recent U.S. presidents have been able to satisfy—which is why the Vatican has consistently denounced their wars. Ever since Jesus told Peter to put down his sword, there has been a vibrant tradition of Christian non-violence. On January 18, in fact, a Vatican commission released a document focused on “the relationship between the revelation of God and a non-violent humanism.”


Universal means universal

“Catholic” literally means universal, even if it’s often used to refer to a hierarchy of mostly old white men devoted to vestiges of European feudalism. But if you visit Catholic communities around the world, the ways they differ are as striking as what they have in common. Alongside a sad history of participating in colonialism, the church has also been learning from indigenous traditions it encounters and incorporating them into a global faith. In the 20th century, the Vatican finally acknowledged that there is truth in other religions, but this came after centuries of borrowing from them left and right.


God is female, too

One of the most striking ways Catholicism has learned from non-Christian cultures is in ways of worshiping the feminine aspects of God. Since the fifth century, it has affirmed Mary as “mother of God,” and through devotion to her and other female saints, Catholics have seen much more to God than just “He” and “Lord.” Medieval mystics experienced visions of Jesus as a lactating mother. Despite the patriarchal makeup and outlook of the church hierarchy, which has yet to change under Francis, popular Catholicism harbors a deep recognition that non-males equally reflect God’s image.


“Family values”? Yes and no

For all the Christian talk out there about family values, early Christianity posed a challenge to the traditional family values of the Romans—and to the nuclear family of today. Many of the most important early Christians were women who joined the church to escape a lifetime of near enslavement in marriage. And while women’s religious orders ever since have had to answer to male leaders, they’ve often allowed women more autonomy than was possible in mainstream family life. Catholicism supports those who choose to give family life a go, but it has also encouraged a wide range of alternative arrangements, celibate and otherwise, that are radically distinct from normal family life. These alternatives have allowed people to devote their lives more fully to hospitality and service; in this they follow Jesus, who loved his human parents but referred to God as his real parent and called all those who act on God’s love his siblings.


Everybody’s accountable—even the Pope

Part of what makes the church’s ongoing cover-ups so disturbing is its failure to practice the accountability that Catholics are supposed to learn in the confessional. We’re all flawed, but we embrace the consequences of our actions. Church teachings on abortion and divorce come partly out of this: the need to follow through on our decisions that affect the lives of others. Too often, the church has expressed these teachings through guilt and condemnation, rather than by showing people the compassion they need in difficult times. Until leaders like Pope Francis show real accountability themselves, they’ll have a hard time teaching it.


The people are usually right in the end

Cardinal John Newman, a 19th-century English convert, wrote a famous essay celebrating the tradition of “consulting the faithful on matters of doctrine.” It focuses on an ancient theological debate (whose details would probably sound ridiculous) in which bishops and theologians clung to heresy while ordinary believers held to what would finally be recognized as truth. It’s an often-repeated story. At a time when many Catholics disagree with official teachings on contraception and other issues, church leaders are in a tricky spot. The original word for “church” in Greek, after all, means “assembly”—a body in which all people’s voices are heard. These include, thanks to the church’s deep respect for tradition, the voices of the dead.


And then, silence

For all these enticements to prophetic ranting and raving, the Catholic tradition of social justice has always depended on prayer. Becoming a Catholic activist means learning to make contemplation and action mutually reinforcing, not opposed. People fighting for social change often act impressively for a while, only to burn out when the revolution doesn’t happen. But radical Catholicism assumes that the struggle is lifelong and ongoing, so one should balance accordingly—personal courage with community, work with rest, poverty with feasting, speech with silence. No one is exempt. For all that a pope can do, the church is really its people, and it will only ever be as radical as we are.


Nathan Schneider has written about religion and resistance for publications including Harper’s, The Nation, the New York Times, The Chronicle of Higher Education and elsewhere. He is an editor of the online literary magazine Killing the Buddha and for Waging Nonviolence, a daily source for people-powered news and analysis from around the world. He is the author of God in Proof: The Story of a Search from the Ancients to the Internet and Thank You, Anarchy: Notes from the Occupy Apocalypse, both published by University of California Press in 2013.


Related Off-site Links:
Michele Madigan Somerville: "I Love the Radical Catholic Church" – The Wild Reed (July 2, 2009).
Fueling the Fire of Real Change: The Radical Ethic of the Catholic Worker Movement – Chris Hedges (TruthDig.com, September 28, 2008).
An Australian Bishop's "Radical" Call for Reform – The Wild Reed (August 27, 2007).
Jesus: The Upside-down Messiah – The Wild Reed (March 27, 2013).
Is Pope Francis the New Champion of Liberation Theology? – Harvey Cox (The Nation, January 6, 2014).


Monday, November 18, 2013

Lay Groups Launch Surveys to Answer Vatican Questionnaire

By Brian Roewe


Note: This article was first published November 16 by the National Catholic Reporter.


While U.S. bishops consider how best and how broad to collect information ahead of a 2014 global bishops' meeting on family issues, several lay Catholic groups took the task into their own hands.

In mid-November, a coalition of 15 church reform groups – primarily members of Catholic Organizations for Renewal – created an online survey for U.S. Catholics to offer their thoughts on the preparatory document to the 2014 Synod of Bishops, which will focus on the theme of "pastoral challenges to the family in the context of evangelization."

Before the coalition announced the survey, Marianne Duddy-Burke told NCR that the idea emerged from a concern that the U.S. episcopacy would not consult with lay Catholics as they compiled their responses.

"This is a chance for people to have their voice heard," said Duddy-Burke, executive director of DignityUSA, one of the sponsoring organizations.

Other sponsors include the American Catholic Council, Call to Action, FutureChurch, Voice of the Faithful, the Women's Ordination Conference and Fortunate Families.

The survey, hosted online at www.surveymonkey.com/s/SynodOnFamilyUS, will remain open for response through Dec. 15. At that point, the coalition will compile and send the responses to four prelates: Archbishop Lorenzo Baldisseri, secretary general of the Synod of Bishops; Archbishop Carlo Maria Viganò, papal nuncio to the U.S.; Boston Cardinal Sean O'Malley, the American representative on Pope Francis' Council of Cardinals; and Archbishop Joseph Kurtz of Louisville, Ky., the newly elected president of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops.

The U.S. bishops' conference has set Dec. 31 as a deadline for response from its members, in order to meet the Vatican's request for a summary by the end of January.

Others have launched similar surveys, including the bishops of England and Wales and of Belgium.

Catholics in Alliance for the Common Good on Nov. 1 launched its version (papalsurvey.com) in English and Spanish, sending it to its 30,000 members and posting it online. As of Nov. 12, more than 3,000 people had completed the survey, with more than half of the respondents coming from outside the nonprofit's network.

"We're really trying to make this an articulation of the American Catholic church," Christopher Hale, a senior fellow with Catholics in Alliance, told NCR. He said the survey will remain open as long as a steady flow of people continue to respond.

So far, results have shown respondents giving the church adequate marks on teaching about marriage and the family, although with a too narrow, sex-focused scope. Others noted plentiful resources for engaged couples, but fewer for those already married and struggling. The survey also showed mixed responses in outreach to gay persons, same-sex couples, and the divorced and separated, and a consistent call for a church of mercy.

The survey efforts followed news reports Oct. 31 that the Vatican had sought broad feedback before the 2014 synod. The themes outlined by Baldisseri in the preparatory document touched on "many new situations requiring the Church's attention and pastoral care": mixed or interreligious marriages; single-parent families; views of marriage as temporary; reformulations of the family concept; and media and current cultural influences on the understanding of marriage and family life.

The attached questionnaire expanded these areas into other corners of modern-day family life: the acceptance of natural law concerning marriage and church teaching on family planning; marriage preparation efforts; the reality of cohabitation, separated and divorced-and-remarried couples; and pastoral attention to same-sex couples, marriages and families.

Both the Catholics in Alliance and coalition surveys tweak the original language in their respective surveys to make it more accessible to ordinary Catholics, decisions that have drawn some criticism. Duddy-Burke responded that the coalition survey was less about the data and more about the feedback the open-ended questions elicited.

"What is really going to be heard here is sort of the cries of the people, in some ways when they are talking about their pastoral needs and where they are seeing them being met, and where they're not being met through the church structure," she said.

While the Vatican document was theological in nature, the Catholics in Alliance survey is pastoral, Hale said, as well as comprehensible to a large number of people.

"This is not a poll on doctrinal issues. This is a survey on pastoral experiences," he said, adding that it hopes to highlight the experiences of Catholics in the pews.

The Catholics in Alliance survey condensed the Vatican questionnaire's nine areas and 39 questions into eight questions organized into four areas: the church and family life; outreach to divorced and separated persons; outreach to same-sex couples and gay persons; and being a church of mercy and of welcome.

While the volume of responses has not surprised Hale, some of the answers they've contained have.

"People are really thinking deeply about these issues and want to contribute," he said.

That includes Kristen, 34, of Norman, Okla., who prepared for marriage with her husband at their local parish. After a few years, though, they experienced a "sophomore slump" and found their parish offered little assistance in coping.

"We were prepared well for the wedding, but not for the ups and downs of married life," she said in her response. "We went to an evangelical church nearby to get some help and found it. It would have been great to instead find that kind of help in our own Catholic parish."

Kristen's response showed Hale that when Catholic parishes and priests fail in fulfilling their people's spiritual needs, they'll turn to other sources. Still, a broad theme throughout has shown that the respondents desire to find a space for themselves and others in the church.

"The biggest message I've got from this was American Catholics want to work together with their leadership in moving the church forward," he said.

As part of that, organizers at Catholics in Alliance hope their survey provides a model for bishops to use in their dioceses. A handful of bishops already have begun conversations with Catholics in Alliance, and some dioceses have promoted the survey through their social media channels.

Whether the surveys and ensuing synod result in demonstrable changes in the church remains to be seen, but so far, the discussion surrounding them has brought an unexpected energy around a typically mundane meeting.

"The fact that these questions are being raised, and there seems to be an opportunity to talk about pastoral needs of people in real situations is very exciting for Catholics," Duddy-Burke said.

Some have taken the call for input as a call to return to the church, responses have shown. In that way, Hale said the surveys have become vehicles of the new evangelization.

"Pope Francis has made it clear that the voice of every Catholic matters in the church, no matter how often they practice the faith, there's a home for them here, and we want to re-invite them," he said.

Brian Roewe is an NCR staff writer. His email address is broewe@ncronline.org. Follow him on Twitter: @BrianRoewe.

Monday, August 19, 2013

Dueling Worldviews

By Paula Ruddy


Did you know that . . .

• Catholic Coalition for Church Reform (CCCR) is holding
its third Synod of the Baptized on Saturday, September 28,
at Ramada MOA in Bloomington,

and

Archbishop John Nienstedt is holding a
“Rediscover Catholicism” conference on Saturday,
October 12, at St. Paul RiverCentre.


• CCCR’s keynoter is Sister Gail Worcelo, who will talk
about co-creating the living church, a vision
for reform for the 21st Century,

and

Archbishop Nienstedt has invited George Weigel to address the Rediscover celebration. Weigel’s book Evangelical Catholicism: Deep Reform in the 21st Century Church (2013)
writes the prescription for curing the "disease"
we are experiencing in the church today.


Both CCCR and the Archbishop agree that reform is necessary. That is a great step forward.

Now can we come together on a program for reform?

The Archbishop seems inclined to adopt George Weigel’s program for reform, called Evangelical Catholicism. It has many good points we could all agree on. We all want to respond to God’s love by uniting our hearts and souls to the divine, what Weigel calls cultivating “friendship with Jesus.” We all want to witness to God’s love in the world, evangelism. We all want the Church to be a community modeling that living witness. We all need institutional leaders, bishops, to provide a structure for our communal life and to serve the mission Jesus gives us.


Worldview One

Here is the rub. Weigel’s program is based on the idea that “what the Church teaches” and “what the Gospel reveals” are one and the same. If you are calling yourself “Catholic” you must accept that the Holy Spirit is with the bishops alone when it comes to Church teaching. There is no room for our experience that there are disconnects between the Gospel and Church policies and practices. There is no justification for lay people’s questioning the bishops. My raising the question here about what program of reform the Archbishop should adopt is utterly out-of-line in the Evangelical Catholic worldview. Weigel says the bishop is not a discussion club leader. There is no such thing as “loyal dissent.” If I were “thinking with the mind of the Church” in this cultural framework, I would not address the same questions the Archbishop must address, like “What is good for this Archdiocese.” Rather I’d ask “What does the Archbishop say is good for this Archdiocese?” Then, receiving the answer, I’d get wholeheartedly behind his program. Being Catholic is entering into a life of identity with Catholic culture.

Given this worldview, it is no wonder Archbishop Nienstedt is dismayed by CCCR’s asking the questions that are within his job description and questioning his judgments. From this point of view, it is impudence, rebellion, defiant “dissent”, entirely out-of-line for us to question his opposition to civil marriage for same-sex couples or to question any position the bishops espouse. Within the “symphony of truth” that is Catholic culture, priests and laity get behind the bishop’s programs whatever they are. It is no wonder that he tells us to go to another church. In his view, we aren’t “Catholic.”

Reading Weigel’s book was a revelation to me. In all my 78 years of being Catholic I never thought asking questions was impudent or rebellious. I always thought it was being helpful. During the civil marriage debates I always expected the Archbishop to respond to reasoning with counter-reasoning. I never understood how a repetition of the Church’s position was thought to be sufficient as an answer to an argument. Now that I glimpse into that worldview I can see that from that point of view a statement of the bishops’ position is enough. Asking for reasons is a challenge to authority. I see now what a disappointment we were, just as his refusal to reason together was a disappointment to us.


Worldview Two

The worldview I take for granted with CCCR is based on the belief that the Holy Spirit is with everyone of good will working through human agency. God is both immanent — in the world — and transcendent — more than the world. In this culture people are responsible to contribute whatever insights or values they have to the common project. The market-place of ideas sorts the valuable from the not so valuable. We come to a shared understanding, agreeing on what is needed, and throw ourselves into the common project. It is a different culture from Evangelical Catholicism, but it is firmly Catholic in its grounding in incarnation. We belong to the institutionalized community of the Church in which there are many cultures contributing their points of view.

Weigel says this worldview is born of modernism, postmodernism, “the imperial, autonomous Self”, individualism, too much psychology, subjectivism — all in all, an evil perspective. Anyone who doesn’t “think with the mind of the Church”, i.e. unquestioningly support the bishops’ leadership, is to be called out as a weed among the wheat. He gives lots of examples of weeds: Hans Küng, Roger Haight, Elizabeth Johnson, the sisters of the LCWR, and anyone who opposes the bishops’ positions in the political arena.

Thank God Weigel is not our Archbishop. Maybe John Nienstedt, though he shares Weigel’s worldview, will have the grace of his pastoral office to visit our point of view as we visit his. He will see that we do not intend to encroach on his God-given role. We know he is the “chief catechist” and we want to work with him. Our process would be to sit down with the Archbishop and other stakeholders to work it out together, taking into account differences among us and being careful for all. That is what “reason” is for.

We can hope that our Archbishop will listen to Pope Francis instead of George Weigel. Pope Francis seems to love the world.

We ask only one thing: that you reach out! And that you go and seek out and encounter the most needy! . . . Does this mean going to convince someone to become Catholic? No, no, no! You are just reaching out to meet him, he is your brother! That is enough. You reach out to help them, the rest is done by Jesus, by the Holy Spirit.
— Pope Francis to the Argentinians on the Feast of St. Cajetan
August 7, 2013.


Perhaps, emulating Francis, we can grow beyond seeing the worldviews as conflicting. We and the bishops can believe that they are intended by God to teach and lead, and, at the same time, believe that the best way for them to do that in a postmodern world is to be reasonable and attentive to the needs of the people.

Let us know what reforms you think are needed. And register for Synod 2013 at www.cccrmn.org!


See also the previous PCV posts:
Countdown to Synod 2013
A Review of Matthew Kelly's Rediscover Catholicism: A Spiritual Guide to Living with Passion and Purpose
East Side, West Side: Opposing Views of the Good
"All Voices Must Be Heard": A Response to Archbishop Nienstedt
Big Deal or No Big Deal?
A Tale of Two Cultures: Vatican and American
The Call of the Baptized: Be the Church, Live the Mission
CCCR Responds to Censure from Chancery

Recommended Off-site Link:
In the Garden of Spirituality – Ron Rolheiser – The Wild Reed (August 20, 2007).


Sunday, August 18, 2013

Taking Action to Decentralize the Church

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A new global group is educating Catholics about an important early church tradition and inviting them to sign a letter to Pope Francis, urging him to once again allow Catholics to elect their own bishops.


Catholic Church Reform is a global community supporting decentralization of the Roman Catholic Church, primarily by advocating a return to the early church practice that saw the people elect the bishops of their diocese.

Two local groups, the Catholic Coalition for Church Reform and the Council of the Baptized, have formally endorsed Catholic Church Reform's call for lay participation in the selection of bishops.

On its website Catholic Church Reform notes that:

Pope Francis has brought a breath of fresh air to the Roman Church. And he is rekindling the hopes of millions of Catholics and non-Catholics alike who had felt increasingly discouraged and alienated from the Church in the past. For decades, reform groups globally have been working to promote some aspect of Church reform, but they have been met with a Church that has been unwilling to change. But now that Pope Francis has brought to Rome a new, positive spirit of openness, he has rekindled our hopes for change on many fronts.

Our mission is to gather all of this energy and focus our communal love for the Church and passion for reform on a single cause: urging Pope Francis and his council of eight cardinals to decentralize the Church and encourage the People of God in each diocese throughout the world to elect their own bishops. We think this step is essential before the Church can turn to more specific reform issues. Electing our own bishops will make for a new, more vibrant Church in which the people of God – led by the clerical, religious, and lay leaders – will have a voice in what Vatican II declared was our Church. With movement from the bottom up, the Church will be more welcoming to those outside its doors. Whether you are an active Catholic, a former Catholic, or a non-Catholic, if your respect for the Church would be enhanced by a a more people-centered Catholic Church, we invite you to be a part of our online community.

We have two choices: We can sit and bemoan what is wrong in the Church or we can take action. To remain silent is to become complicit with the wrong.


Accordingly, Catholic Church Reform is encouraging Catholics to take action by signing a letter to Pope Francis, urging him to invite all Catholics globally - in unity with the local clergy, religious leaders and lay leaders - to elect their own bishops.


To read and sign this letter, click here.


Following is a 2-minute video that Catholic Church Reform has made to help spread its message and invite people to take action.




Wednesday, June 26, 2013

A Review of Matthew Kelly's Rediscover Catholicism: A Spiritual Guide to Living with Passion and Purpose

By Bill Hunt


Rediscover Catholicism comes with great promise. Hundreds of thousands of copies of the book have been distributed free of charge to Catholics throughout the United States. It forms the centerpiece of the Archdiocese of St. Paul and Minneapolis’ yearlong “Rediscover” program that invites Catholics to re-evaluate the meaning of their faith.

Matthew Kelly brings his skills as a business management consultant and motivational speaker to writing “a spiritual guide to living with passion and purpose.” He contends that the fundamental principle of Catholicism is that God wants us to be happy and holy by becoming “the best-version-of-ourselves” – a phrase he emphasizes throughout his book with mind-numbing repetition.

In the main section of his book Kelly recommends a number of “spiritual exercises” as aids in the quest for individual holiness. He calls these practices “the seven pillars of Catholic spirituality.” They include 1) monthly confession of one’s sins to a priest, 2) daily personal prayer, 3) weekly attentive participation in Sunday Mass, 4) daily Bible reading, 5) regular fasting, 6) daily spiritual reading, and 7) daily recitation of the Rosary. Just as regular physical exercise is necessary to develop a healthy body, so also regular spiritual exercises are necessary to develop “the-best-version-of-oneself.”

The last section of Rediscover Catholicism is a call to action. Faithful Catholics should focus on Catholic education and evangelization. “Teaching young people to recognize and celebrate the-best-version-of-themselves is also the best way to teach them to participate in society, to find work that is uniquely suited to them, and to engage their social responsibilities.” (p. 292) For evangelization, Kelly suggests “a simple four-point plan” based on cultivating friendship, prayer, personal sharing, and invitation.

Kelly is fond of sports metaphors, and Rediscover Catholicism is very much like an extended pep talk. It’s all very simple. The key is discipline. Catholics need to get back to basics, keep the goal of holiness in mind, take inspiration from their Church’s past achievements, study their heroes (the saints), and practice vigorously so that they may become what God wants them to be.

However, for all its promise Rediscover Catholicism is fundamentally flawed.

From the theological point of view, Kelly pays more attention to Michael Jordan than to Jesus; to self-development than to self-giving love. The reader searches in vain for something as insightful as the line from Les Miserables: “To love another person is to see the face of God.”

Kelly is somehow able to write an entire chapter on prayer without mentioning the Lord’s Prayer and to deal with virtue while almost completely ignoring the Sermon on the Mount. With regard to the Sacrament of Reconciliation, he consistently refers to it as “Confession” and emphasizes its instrumental role in individual spiritual growth rather than its main purpose of reconciling the penitent with the Church and God. His take on fasting as the soul’s weapon in its constant war against the body has an eerily Manichaean tone.

Oddly, this book could have been written fifty years ago. Kelly rarely uses inclusive language and consistently refers to God as “he.” He reminds me of the Catholic Truth Society speakers that I listened to in London’s Hyde Park back in 1958. The CTS speakers defended the Roman Catholic Church as the one true church against the attacks of Protestants and atheists. They adopted an approach that exaggerated both the strengths of the Catholic Church and the weaknesses of the Protestants. For them the road to Christian unity was conversion to the Catholic faith.

Adopting a similar siege mentality, Kelly begins each chapter with a list of threats to Catholicism from secular society. With surprising hostility he accuses “Protestant-Evangelical churches” of kidnapping the word evangelization; of using argumentative and intimidating methods; of being “self-promoting and self-serving;” and of not even considering Catholics to be Christians. (p. 293)

The Second Vatican Council (1962-1965) adopted a much more open stance based on dialog and a search for common ground. Kelly gives lip service to the importance of the Council, but he hastens to add: “Vatican II was grossly misunderstood by Catholics at large and misrepresented by a great many theologians.” (pp. 75-76.) In the rest of his book he shows little, if any, interest in seriously engaging with the Council’s fundamental teachings.

Kelly seems to adopt the approach of many Catholic traditionalists who consider the Council to have been a mistake. Instead of taking issue with the Council directly, they simply ignore it.

The most positive thing I can say about Rediscover Catholicism is that it forces the reader to re-examine her or his own approach to Catholicism. However, as the rationale for a program to attract people to the Catholic Church it promotes a spirituality that owes more to the principles of the human potential movement than to Jesus’ command to love one another as he loved us.


Bill Hunt is a witness of the Second Vatican Council, having attended the sessions of the second period (1963) as a peritus (theological advisor). He holds a doctorate in theology from the Catholic University of America and taught Catholic theology at the graduate level for fifteen years.