troubled
I didn't plan to write another post about Catholicism. I thought I'd just maintain a "wait-and-see" attitude on Pope Benedict XVI. Though I consider myself a political radical when it comes to issues of war, poverty and justice, I'm not a party-line secular American liberal. When it comes to consideration of the "conservative" opinions on certain thorny issues -- notably right-to-life ones -- I'm inclined to give both sides equal time.
But tonight I read Peter J. Boyer's New Yorker piece on the conservative ascendency in the Church, and it has really shaken me. There are few recent incidents in contemporary Church history that I found more shameful than the effort last year to deny John Kerry (and, as promoted by some extremists, Catholics who voted for John Kerry) communion, ostensibly because of his support for laws that keep abortion legal. I comforted myself, though, with the thought that the American Conference of Catholic Bishops had come down against the politicization of communion, had rejected in effect the single-issue morality that seems to say "one's position on abortion rights is a litmus test that trumps all other factors in determining your allegiance to the faith." The Bishops' position in the past, one to which I still adhere, is that Catholics should embrace a "consistent ethic of life," that rejects not only abortion but capital punishment, war, as well as political and economic policies that contribute to poverty.
It turns out, though, that I was wrong. In fact, as the Bishops were meeting this summer and considering their position, they received a starkly conservative message from the Vatican. This message was suppressed by the more prgoressive leaders of the conference, but was later leaked in the Italian press. It read:
Not all moral issues have the same moral weight as abortion and euthanasia. For example, if a Catholic were to be at odds with the Holy Father on the application of capital punishment or on the decision to wage war, he would not for that reason be considered unworthy to receive Holy Communion... There may be a legitimate diversity of opinion even among Catholics about waging war and applying the death penalty but not, however, with regard to abortion and euthanasia... [Politicians who support abortion rights should be warned against it, and if] the person in question, with obstinate persistence, still presents himself to receive the Holy Eucharist, the minister of Holy Communion must refuse to distribute it.
At one time, that position would have rightly been regarded as a radical fringe opinion, not so much conservative as totally extremist. But the man who wrote those words (less than a year ago), Joseph Ratzinger, is now the Pope.
It's hard to describe how I felt to read that. The sentiment -- to deny the Eucharist in that way, to refuse to distribute a sacrament that all Catholics believe is "life-giving" -- is, in fact, un-Christian. It's medieval. It's despotic and it has really forced me to reconsider a statement that I have often made (without hesitation and often to the shock of liberals in the room) that I would "renounce my American citizenship before I ever renounced my membership in the Catholic Church." I don't know whether I would say that or not any more, but perhaps (according to Pope Benedict), the choice of renouncing isn't mine to make. It seems like they don't want to have me.
Here's another choice (and chilling) quote from the article. This is from Archbishop Charles Chaput of Denver, a leading enforcer of right-leaning orthodoxy:
We're at a time for the Church in our country when some Catholics--too many--are
discovering that they've gradually become non-Catholics who happen to go to Mass. That's sad and difficult, and a judgment on a generation of Catholic leadership. But it may be exactly the moment of truth the Church needs.
Well, there are an awful lot of other "non-Catholics" out there who happen not only to go to Mass, but to pray, to dedicate their lives to charity, to work for social justice, to read Scripture, to spread the Good News, and to remain fervently to Jesus Christ and the saints. I suppose the Chuch would do better without all of us?
2 Comments:
There are a bunch of reasons why I'm not a Protestant. One of the great traditions in the Catholic Church is that over the centuries it has built up an extensive amount of literature and church teaching to help *interpret* the word of God, rather than relying on "sola scripturum" (i.e. just the texts of the Bible) as Luther advocated.
Acknowledging that scripture was open to interpretation and, indeed, that Church teaching could develop and change is one of the healthiest most sensible traditions of the Catholic Church. We all talk about Vatican II as if it was the only time the Chruch ever gathered for self-assessment -- in fact, it is one of many, many ecumenical councils held over the church's history. Significantly, though, I believe it is only the second one in about 200 years. In other words, the Church in the 20th Century has moved away from the tradition of discussion, interpretation and re-assessment that characterized its early history.
The Jesuits have always been one of the most intellectually progressive orders in the Church, valuing debate and discussion and feeling that it can stregnthen one's faith rather than necessarily corrupting it. That's why it's especially unfortunate that Benedict has decided to clamp down on the Jesuit publication in the US. The readership of a magazine like America is incredibly small, but believe me they are getting the message loud and clear: the new pope does not want to hear multiple viewpoints.
The doctrine of "papal infallibility" is a late creation of the Church. It was instituted, I believe, in the 19th Century and has been invoked only a few times. What's disturbing is that all of the issues which America magazine was discussing were not issues on which the pope has ever ruled "infallibly." Surely, then, it would not be wrong to present opposing viewpoints in a reasonable debate? According to Benedict, it apparently is.
While the Vatican officials in power seem to think this sort of attitude is an expression of strength (We don't care if you don't want to be in our Church -- fuck you!), it seems to me more like an expression of emattled insecurity. I don't know how long it can last before there is some kind of major reform...
To be honest, there's something in me that likes authority (in the same way that Sylvia Plath says women love Fascists...? cf. "Daddy").
Remaining Catholic is in some ways an antidote to the excesses of American indiviudalism, because Catholicism is really about de-prioritizing the individual will and I think that a lot of growth can come from that.
I also love Catholic mysticsm, I believe in the mystery of the sacraments, I love the tradition of the saints. I love the theatrical ceremonial nature of the Church. I love the tradition of religious orders (priests and nuns). I love the emphasis on charity and works of mercy (which manifests itself with a particular fervor among Catholics).
It may seem strange to say it, but there's actually very little in official Church doctrine that I have a hard time accepting. I can totally understand, for example, their stances on abortion, euthanasia and stem-cell research. The problems come in the context of how the Church operates in the world at large, how it refuses to accept certain praticalities -- such as not promoting condom use to stop the spread of AIDS. Surely, you can be against pre-marital sex but MORE AGAINST death???
Anyway, my love of the Church is not rational but in a way its the irrationality of it that I love. I think we all need to balance things in our lives that make sense with things that seem uncomfortably impossible to reconcile through rational thought.
I don't expect everyone to understand this, of course...
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