A friend passes along this transcript of a recent speech David Brooks gave to a Christian gathering. It’s really something. It’s so wide-ranging that I can’t decide where to begin with it. Brooks, a Times columnist who also teaches at Yale, speaks to them as an ambassador from the secular culture. Excerpt:
And so this is an achievement culture. A culture of people striving and trying to win success. The way I express this contrast, this hunger for success is by two sets of virtues, which you could call the résumé virtues and the eulogy virtues. And the résumé virtues are the things you bring to the marketplace which you put on a résumé. And the eulogy virtues are the things you get expressed in your eulogy. And these are non-overlapping categories. So the eulogy virtues are to give courage, to give honor, what kind of relationships do you build, did you love.
And in my secular culture, we all know the eulogy virtues are more important, but we spend more time on the résumé virtues. Another way to think about this is the book Joseph Soloveitchik, the great rabbi, wrote in 1965 called “Lonely Man of Faith.” He said we have two sides to nurture, which he called Adam One and Adam Two, which correlate to the versions of creation in Genesis.
Adam One is the external résumé. Career-oriented. Ambitious. External.
Adam Two is the internal Adam. Adam Two wants to embody certain moral qualities to have a serene, inner character, a quiet but solid sense of right and wrong, not only to do good but to be good, to sacrifice to others, to be obedient to a transcendent truth, to have an inner soul that honors God, creation and our possibilities.
Adam One wants to conquer the world. Adam Two wants to obey a calling and serve the world. Adam One asks. “How things work?” Adam Two asks, “Why things exist and what we’re her for?”
Adam One wants to venture forth. Adam Two wants to return to roots.
Adam One’s motto is “Success.”
Adam Two’s motto is “Charity. Love. Redemption.”
So the secular world is a world that nurtures Adam One, and leaves Adam Two inarticulate.
The competition to succeed in the Adam One world is so intense, there’s often very little time for anything else. Noise and fast, shallow communication makes it harder to hear the quieter sounds that emanate from our depths.
We live in a culture that teaches us to be assertive, to brand ourselves to get likes on Facebook, and it’s hard to have that humility and inner confrontation which is necessary for a healthy Adam Two life.
And the problem is that I have learned over the course of my life that if you’re only Adam One, you turn into a shrewd animal whose adept at playing games and begins to treat life as a game.
You live with an unconscious boredom, not really loving, not really attached to a moral purpose that gives life worth. You settle into a sort-of self-satisfied moral mediocrity. You grade yourself on a forgiving curve. You follow your desires wherever they take you. You approve of yourself as long as people seem to like you. And you end up slowly turning the core piece of yourself into something less desirable than what you wanted. And you notice this humiliating gap between your actual self and your desired self.
So this secular world may look like Kim Kardashian and vulgarity, but I am telling you it is a river of spiritual longing. Of people who are aware of their shortcomings and lack of direction and in this realm.
They don’t have categories, they don’t have vocabularies, but they know the gap.
They know the gap because none of us gets through life very long without being knocked to our knees either in joy or in pain. And a bunch of activities expose the inadequacies of an Adam One life.
Brooks says that Christians have a lot to offer to people adrift in this river of spiritual longing. But then he offers a critique highlighting the ways they fail to offer a lifeline to these lost seculars. Excerpt:
Everyone’s on a walk to Chartres. On a walk toward something transcendent, even if they don’t know what it is. Are you building ramps on the way to Chartres or are you building walls?
Now I spend a lot of time in the Christian world, and I am going to try to describe things I have observed, both walls and ramps. The first part, I‘m going to try and describe some walls that I think the Christian culture has erected for the secular culture. This part is going to be a little harsh. I’m trying to live up to Susan’s words this morning in trying to be a “holy friend,’ which involves some criticism.
I want you to know I am for you and I love you.
So the first wall is the wall of withdrawal. Many of my Christian friends perceive a growing difference between the secular world and the Christian world, the difference between Jay-Z and Hillsong and the Jesus culture. The difference between Quentin Tarantino and Eugene Peterson, Richard Dawkins and Henri Nouwen, Columbia College and Calvin College. Many of my friends fear they are being written out of polite society because they believe in the Gospel. With that comes a psychology of an embattled minority. With that comes a defensiveness and a withdrawal, a fear, and a withdrawal into sub-culture. I certainly have friends how live in a sub-culture, work in a sub-culture, Christian in the sub-culture, socialize in the sub-culture, and if you live in a broader society, that is governed by the spiritual longing that doesn’t know how to express itself, is withdrawing into your own separate sub-culture really the right thing to do.
I think that’s being governed by fear and not love.
More on this in a second. One more wall Christians put up, despite themselves:
The third wall is the wall of bad listening. In my experience, I have had amazing diversity of quality of listening among my friends who are in the Christian community. Some are amazing. Ask great questions. Allow each individual experience to express itself and be known.
But I have certainly known others who have come to each conversation armed with a set of maxims, teaching and truths and may apply off-the-shelf truths and maxims without learning the uniqueness of each situation. Emerson said that souls are not saved in bundles and yet sometimes there is great haste to apply these ready-made maxims regardless of circumstances.
Then Brooks talks about the “ramps” that Christians offer to the secular culture. For example:
And so when I’m talking about ramps, what I am really talking about is ways of seeing, ways of perceiving vantage points. It seems to me the secular world has one vantage point, which is an economic profit-and-loss vantage point. Built around happiness.
The Christian world, the Jewish world, the Muslim world has a different vantage point, a totally different mentality, a counter-culture that compliments and completes the shallower one.
Humility is the core of it. Humility is a form of awareness. It’s not really a virtue, it’s a form of awareness. My favorite definition…some people think humility is thinking lowly of yourself. My favorite definition is “Humility is self-awareness from the context of other-centeredness.”
Humility is having an accurate assessment of your own nature. It’s having an accurate assessment of your own place in the cosmos. It’s an awareness that you’re an underdog in the struggle against your own sins. It’s an awareness that individual talents are inadequate to the tasks that have been assigned to you. It’s understanding yourself in the context of a greater divine order. Knowing you’re not the center of the universe and you need redemptive assistance to complete your tasks.
That all runs counter to Facebook by the way.
Read the whole thing. I promise you that you will not be sorry you did.
About the withdrawal thing, I know many of you will understandably want to know what I think of that in light of the Benedict Option. The answer is that I’m not sure that Brooks and I would disagree as much as you might think. I could be wrong. My idea of the Benedict Option is not a head-for-the-hills kind of withdrawal. Rather, it is a general stepping-back from the mainstream for the sake of fortifying one’s faith and identity in community. A Christian individual, family, church, or school that doesn’t have a strong sense of roots is going to be swept away by the same fast-moving cultural river that produces so much spiritual longing within those adrift in it.
I think about the community around the Orthodox cathedral in Eagle River, Alaska. All those people work in the secular world. But they have a strong church community, and many of them live on the same long street. These are not separatists. But they have a rock to stand firm on in the middle of the raging rapids. There are Catholic versions of the same thing (I heard about one while I was in Italy, by the way), and I am certain there are Protestant forms too. I agree that this idea needs to be much better developed, to identify “good” engagement with the world, and “bad” engagement with the world. For example, is homeschooling a form of the Benedict Option? Yes, I’d say so. But if you are doing it solely to keep your children from being polluted by the outside world, I’d say that could be a problem. If you are doing it to protect your kids from the toxic mainstream culture (teen sexting, for example), and to give them the moral, spiritual, and intellectual formation that will help them succeed as men and women of faith and virtue in the world, well, that is a positive example of the Benedict Option.
I hope that once my Dante book is behind me, I can start working on a book about the Benedict Option — what it can be, what it should be, and what it should not be.
Anyway, I agree with almost everything David Brooks says in that remarkable address, and I really hope you’ll read it. He gave me a lot to think about, actually. Especially this:
There’s something just awesome about seeing somebody stand up and imitate and live the non-negotiable truth of Jesus Christ. People who just live that life are just awesome, and I don’t care what you believe.
I thought the same thing as I was leaving Norcia, having spent only a small amount of time with some of the Benedictine monks there, but having been profoundly impressed by them. I thought, “What if I lived like this, for Jesus Christ, just not caring what people thought, and not thinking so much about myself?” I’m not a monk, of course, but I can think of ways I could be living more like those men. If I did, I would have more light in my face, like they do, and more peace in my heart.
Too much fear, not enough love, maybe? Maybe. But then, when I explained the Benedict Option concept to one of the monks, he said that it made sense to him, and that he believed that Christians who didn’t work out some form of that kind of countercultural commitment and live it in their families and communities were going to be carried away by the secularist tide. So our love, it seems, must be guided by prudence to some degree, and that means the establishment of habits and forms that give that love stability and grounding.
That said, read the Brooks speech. You’ll be glad you did. Except you, Uncle Chuckie.
This deceptively small book hits right at all the darkly chattering recesses in my life. Its foci are the gnawing repetitive thoughts that put a veil between us and God–making him seem almost inaccessible, even non-existent.
Here’s a quote from Fr. Laird’s book, cited by Rosman:
If inner noise sustains this perceived alienation from our inmost selves, we shall feel perforce alienated from God. But this sense of alienation or separation is generated by blind and noisy ignorance that insinuates itself in the surface regions of our awareness. Our culture for the most part trains us to keep our attention riveted to this surface noise, which in turn maintains the illusion of God as a distant object for which we must seek as for something we are convinced we lack. One of the great mysteries of contemplative path is the discovery that, when the veils of separation drop, we see that the God we have been seeking has already found us, knows us, and sustains us in being from all eternity. Indeed, “God is your being,” as the author of the Cloud of Unknowing says (though we are not God’s being).
We should not underestimate just how pervasive the noise in our heads can be.
Boy, did this passage and Rosman’s comment speak to me. For over a year now, I’ve been committed to a fairly demanding daily rule of contemplative prayer. It has helped me tremendously. I am the sort of person whose minds races all the time with the sort of thoughts that insomniacs have a 3 a.m., lying in their beds, wide awake. The time I say the prayer rule may be one of the only times in the entire day that I’m recollected and my mind is silent. But this is only a relative term; I keep my mind clear during prayer about as well as a driver stays in his lane on the highway motoring home after a night of drinking at the bar. It’s a constant challenge. I can see progress over the last year, but it’s still hard.
Fr. Laird is exactly right, I think, about how the daily noise conceals God from us, in particular his nearness. He speaks in a still, small voice, but if we try to hear Him in the mental equivalent of a rambunctious crowd at a Mardi Gras parade, we almost never will. When Casella and I were in Norcia, my prayer was pure there, and God seemed so very, very close. Why? In part, I think, because the place is hallowed by St. Benedict’s birth. In part because the monks are so prayerful. But for me, it was the quiet. When I stood at the side altar in the crypt church, saying my daily rule on my prayer rope, I felt that I wanted to bring a sleeping bag there and stay there all night. God felt so close.
In fact, I know He is just that close all the time. But it’s hard to see Him and hear Him when we are so caught up in the busy-ness of the everyday. Hours after leaving Norcia, Casella and I were walking on the cacophonous streets of Rome. At one point we just looked at each other, helpless; no words were necessary: we were saying to each other, “We’re losing Norcia already.”
The greatest spiritual challenge I personally face on any day is withdrawing from the noise, especially the “noise” that comes through the computer, long enough and completely enough to pray. We have to live in the world, though. The trick is to find a way of being in Norcia, so to speak, no matter where we are.
Here, via Rorate Caeli, is the final version of the Synod report, in Italian. The paragraphs about homosexual orientation reflect a definite win for the orthodox. From Google translate, and me:
Some families live the experience of having those with homosexual orientation among them. In this regard, we have based our approach to pastoral care by referring to what the Church teaches: “There is no foundation whatsoever to assimilate or to establish even remotely analogous, including same-sex unions and the plan of God for marriage and the family.” Nevertheless, men and women with homosexual tendencies must be accepted with respect and sensitivity. ”In their regard should be avoided every sign of unjust discrimination” (Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Considerations Regarding Proposals to Give Legal Recognition to Unions Between Homosexual Persons).
It is totally unacceptable that the Pastors of the Church suffer the pressures in this matter, and that international bodies make financial aid to poor countries contingent on the introduction of laws that establish the “marriage” between persons of the same sex.
At first glance, this appears to be a significant repudiation of liberals and reformers. I’ll wait for the English translation, and commentary from those in a better position to judge. I don’t know for sure what the text says on communion for divorced and remarried people. Updates to follow.
UPDATE: Here’s John L. Allen’s report. The news is not as good for the orthodox as it first seemed. The paragraphs on LGBT (above) and divorced Catholics did not receive a 2/3 majority vote of the Synod. The bishops are more divided than we might have thought. This is going to be a long, difficult struggle for orthodox Catholics.
Reader Marko sends in this FiveThirtyEight analysis showing that on social issues, especially homosexuality, Catholics are far more likely to be liberal than other Christians, and even Americans in general Excerpts:
In the U.S, the General Social Survey, which is conducted by the research organization NORC at the University of Chicago, has been asking about divorce and gay rights since the early 1970s, and about cohabitation since 1994 (typically at least every two years). At my request, GSS director Tom W. Smith sent data, broken down by religion, for half a dozen questions. In their answers, American Catholics consistently have shown themselves to be more tolerant of divorce, gay rights and unmarried cohabitation than have American Protestants and Americans overall — especially in recent years.
More, from an international perspective:
In general, the higher a share of a country’s residents are Catholic, the higher percentage of residents express tolerance toward divorce and towards gays. The effect isn’t huge, but it’s consistent.
I think most conservative Catholics intuit this, which accounts partly for their anxiety over the prospect of Rome’s waffling. They know that they are minorities within their own church, and they grieve over the possibility that the Church itself may undercut their convictions.
The Pew Center finds that an overwhelming number of US Catholics aged 18 to 29 accept homosexuality (85 percent) and support same-sex marriage (75 percent). More worryingly for conservative Catholics, when the question is asked of weekly massgoers, who are by definition more likely to be involved in the faith and in their parish, the number of overall pro-SSM Catholics is an astonishing 45 percent. Only 44 percent of weekly massgoers support the Church’s teaching, which is to oppose same-sex marriage. The last 11 percent presumably don’t know how they feel. Given the strong cultural currents moving toward full acceptance of gay marriage, there is no reason to believe that when they do make their minds up, that all, or even most, of those undecided Catholics will break for the Church’s position. In fact, given that Pew’s analysis doesn’t break out the weekly massgoers by age group, it is likely that the opposition to SSM is heavily weighted toward the seniors, a group that is literally dying out.
So, is it the case that the Catholic Church has to liberalize on these issues to attract disaffected Catholics? I wouldn’t say so at all. In a survey published in March, Pew polled American Catholics on their thoughts about Pope Francis. Money graf:
But despite the pope’s popularity and the widespread perception that he is a change for the better, it is less clear whether there has been a so-called “Francis effect,” a discernible change in the way American Catholics approach their faith. There has been no measurable rise in the percentage of Americans who identify as Catholic. Nor has there been a statistically significant change in how often Catholics say they go to Mass. And the survey finds no evidence that large numbers of Catholics are going to confession or volunteering in their churches or communities more often.
So, this is the dilemma the Pope and the bishops face: Western nations (North and South America, and Europe) are liberalizing radically on homosexuality, and so are many Catholics. But there is no evidence that the liberalized attitudes symbolized (rightly or wrongly) by Pope Francis are making any difference in the participation of Catholics in the life of the Church. In other words, the Catholic Church is not regaining liberals it has lost, or who have drifted away from engagement with the faith. At the same time, Rome runs the very real risk of alienating the orthodox core that remains faithful to its teachings. Where will that leave the Church?
This is not to say that the Roman church doesn’t need to develop a better set of pastoral practices regarding divorce and homosexuality. Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t. The question shouldn’t be off limits. But as the controversies coming out of the Synod in this past week have demonstrated, the Pope and his men are playing with fire. One way or another, the Catholic Church, like all Christian churches, is going to experience significant decline in the West in the decades to come. The Church will, as Pope Benedict XVI predicted, be smaller. No doubt about it. The children of today’s Christian progressives will likely be tomorrow’s secularists. The future of Christianity in the West depends on the orthodox and their families. It is very hard to get religious progressives to see this, but there it is. If the Pope isn’t careful, he could suppress and alienate those who are the most faithful to the Church, without any gain whatsoever.
That said, as these polls reveal, the ocean between Rome and the United States is not just the one called the Atlantic.
Edward Hamilton is a reader of this blog whose comments are without fail illuminating. But he really outdoes himself with this one:
Evangelicalism is gifted with a heritage of self-criticism. As the most radically reforming wing of the Reformation, it has to constantly subject itself to scrutiny on the level of private discussions and personal meditations. There’s no external formal body made of leading evangelical scholars that can set doctrine for the entire movement. The academic community (theological faculty at seminaries, but also faculty in general) are the closest thing we have to a functional magisterium.
I’ve taught on several different college campuses [and] the atmosphere on the evangelical campus where I am now has been the one where faculty feel the most subversive — the most out of step with parents, trustees, and administrators. Teaching at Gonzaga (Jesuit), I felt virtually no pressure for secrecy, nor tension between student/parent and professor expectations. Catholicism was a pretty thin veneer of social responsibility, and priests, nuns, and bishops were colorful local mascots. There were a handful of distinctly Catholic professors (mostly in the philosophy department), but they were mostly dismissed as cranks by everyone else. There was little need for the university as a whole to pretend to be more Catholic than it was, since no agent for external accountability was expecting it to be.
The evangelical college world is constantly under the twin pressures of advertising its separation from the degenerate culture (a vital selling point to many parents) and yet creating space for serious scholarship. That amounts to giving each faculty member the license to privately undermine aspects of evangelical doctrine, but only in a handful of directly relevant academic categories. At the same time, the institution as a whole will double down on overt demonstrations of cultural purity, in all of its ceremonies and PR work. Anyone on the outside, reading the copy on the brochures or the college website, must assume I live in the world’s most claustrophobic bubble of ideological conformity. Instead, I’m living in an enclave full of diligently plotting revolutionaries.
For the most part, professors are often sincere in the personal belief that most of evangelicalism is intellectually robust, except the little bit that intrudes on their turf. Old Testament professors in the religion department will feel free to use source-critical methodology you’d never hear Sunday morning. Psychology professors will subsume what would historically have been called “sinful” tendencies under naturalistic explanations. Humanities classes will be full of praise for secular art and literature, and patronizing dismissal of the poor quality of the stuff on the shelves of the local Christian bookstore. As a science professor, I think I’ve seen precisely ZERO examples of young-earth creationists in the science and engineering departments at two evangelical colleges (a sample set of around four dozen), and the number of times you’ll hear a science professor say anything in lecture that would offend Richard Dawkins is countable on fingers (aside from compartmentalized moments for prayer or devotionals). The aggregate effect is that students repeatedly hear a message along the lines of “Evangelicalism is perfectly healthy, except the bits of it that would interfere with this class” — which after 120 credit hours of classes amounts collectively to saying that it’s an intellectual desert.
The cumulative effect of having powerful spiritual experiences (short-term missions trips, campus rallies, richly toned formal prayers at ceremonies) coupled with a steady diet of deconstructionist pedagogy is that graduates will want to dispense entirely with the unwieldy intellectual baggage of the evangelical traditional, and use evangelicalism as a brand label for marketing and community identity. That’s what the university did, after all. I feel guilty about participating this state of affairs, but I’m not sure how to overcome its inertia. I feel a distinct envy for Catholics who can evince a sincere confidence in the infallibility of the Papal office, and avoid this interminable charade of exaggerated outward piety and compartmentalized private doubt.
Do you teach at an Evangelical college? Have you ever? Or, are you now or have you ever been a student at one? If so, what do you think of Prof. Hamilton’s observations?
UPDATE: Baylor’s Alan Jacobs has a strong response in the comments section. Here it is:
The first thing I would say about Professor Hamilton’s comment is that it’s plainly unethical. He names no names and offers no evidence, contenting himself with smearing pretty much everyone who teaches at evangelical colleges, including colleges where he has had no experience, making no distinctions and offering no exceptions. (Note that he claims to tell us, not about his own personal experience, but about “the evangelical college world.”) Perhaps he has been unfortunate enough to have colleagues who are as dishonest and corrupt as he says they are; if so, I pity him. But since my own experience of three decades in Christian higher education — during many years of which I served as mentor to faculty in a wide range of disciplines — is radically different, I can’t help wondering if he’s making a great many unwarranted assumptions based on a small and skewed sample size.
If I try to understand what his substantive accusations are, they amount to the following: evangelical scientists aren’t six-day creationists; evangelical biblical scholars don’t teach Sunday-school-style classes; and evangelical humanities don’t teach and celebrate popular Christian fiction. It is my fervent hope that every professor at every evangelical college can plead guilty to such charges.
Professor Hamilton sets up a simplistic binary world where evangelical professors can either (a) reaffirm every preference of fundamentalist churches or (b) become “diligently plotting revolutionaries.” Any serious evangelical academic will choose neither of the above. The overwhelming majority of the Christian faculty I have met see it as their goal to take their students beyond whatever they might have learned in Sunday school without undermining their faith — rather, the goal is to deepen it and strengthen it, often by removing, or at least minimizing, fear of the unknown. For instance, students don’t have to end up just like me to see that reading Wallace Stevens and James Joyce instead of Christian devotional fiction isn’t a mark of perfidy and heresy. They might even see that it’s possible to read Stevens and Joyce with care and appreciation and yet come away from the experience with a stronger Christian faith, rather than an eviscerated one.
The other day an old friend of mine forwarded a letter from a former student, someone who had grown up in a very conservative theological environment. She wrote, “I do not know how to capture my gratitude to you for challenging me. For helping me to learn to think and question. You changed my life. I was resistant at the time, and you planted the seeds that needed time to grow. Thank you. I am who I am now and doing the work that I do, in part, because of you.” I know many, many people like this woman — people who have told me that they would not be Christians today if they had not been exposed to a more expansive and more intellectually rigorous Christianity than they had learned at their home church (even if, as if often the case, they love their home church and are thankful for all that it taught them). People who serve the Church and the world as adults, but would not be doing so if they had been left with the minimal intellectual equipment Professor Hamilton prefers.
That’s what most of us who teach, or have taught, at evangelical colleges want for our students. I’m sorry that Professor Hamilton has managed to get through a fairly lengthy career without meeting any of us.
UPDATE.2: For the record, because John Wilson complained vociferously, I have no opinion at all about Evangelical colleges, because I know nothing about the culture there. I found Edward Hamilton’s comment to be provocative and interesting, as his usually are, and my endorsement of it is on the quality of the comment, not the accuracy of its substance. As regular readers know, from time to time I post comments from readers whose perspective I disagree with, because I find them challenging. That’s all this was.
Oh, this is so, so rich. From the German Catholic website kath.net:
Die Diskussion rund um die Afrika-Aussagen von Kardinal Walter Kasper im Rahmen eines Interviews weitet sich aus. Kasper wird in dem Interview, dass er allerdings bestreitet, unter anderem mit folgenden Sätzen über afrikanische Bischöfe zitiert: „Sie sollen uns nicht zu sehr erklären, was wir zu tun haben“,kath.net hat berichtet.
Gegenüber kath.net teilte er am Donnerstag am späten Nachmittag folgendes mit: „So habe ich nie über Afrikaner geredet und würde ich auch nie reden.” Danach hat allerdings der zuständige Zenit-Redakteur das Tonband veröffentlicht und erklärt, dass sogar zwei andere Journalisten als Zeugen dabei waren. Im Tonband ist die Stimme von Kasper klar zu hören und auch die Aussagen werden von Zenit wahrheitsgetreu wiedergegeben. Kardinal Kasper hat am Freitagvormittag kath.net persönlich mitgeteilt: „Ich werde ein heimlich aufgenommenes privates Gespräch, das kein Interview war, mit zwei anderen Journalisten, das ein dritter, den ich gar nicht kenne und der sich mir auch nicht persönlich vorgestellt hat, nicht kommentieren und noch weniger autorisieren. Das sind keine anständigen journalistischen Methoden.”
Translation (from Google and me):
The discussion around the Africa-focused statements by Cardinal Walter Kasper in an interview grows. Kasper denied saying, among other things, the following about African bishops: “They should not tell us too much what we have to do,” kath.net reported.
On the other hand, he said on Thursday afternoon: “I have never spoken about Africans, and I would never speak.” After that, however, the Zenit-editor published the audio of the interview, and said that even two other journalists were present. In the tape, the voice of Kasper is clear, and the statements are reproduced faithfully by Zenit. Cardinal Kasper announced on Friday morning to kath.net personally: “I was secretly recorded in a private conversation that was not an interview, with two other journalists and a third writer I do not know and who was not personally introduced to me; I did not comment, and even less did I authorize these words These are not decent journalistic methods.”
(If you are a fluent German speaker, I would appreciate an improvement on this rendering of Kasper’s words, as reported in kath.net.)
This is remarkable. Kasper knew he was speaking to journalists, even if he did not know who Edward Pentin was (Pentin has been covering the Vatican for 10 years). Yet even though Kasper’s words, as reported, are undeniably true, he is accusing Pentin of ambushing him, and of being an unprofessional journalist. Listen to the tape yourself. It is simply not credible that Kasper was “secretly recorded,” or that this was a “private” conversation. Three journalists stopped the cardinal on a street and asked him straightforward, basic journalistic questions. Listen to the tape yourself.
I suppose argumentum ad hominem is the last refuge of a scoundrelous prince of the Church. Thank God Pentin has that recording, and was able to make it public on the Internet. Kasper would have sooner seen this man lose his professional reputation than have owned up to the truth of what he, the cardinal, actually said.
Memo to journalists interviewing Walter Kasper in the future: always, always, always have your recorder on. Meanwhile, let us ponder Cardinal Kasper’s principle of media metaphysics: if an act of journalism committed in public redounds to the discredit of a German cardinal, that act of journalism is therefore fictional, no matter what the material evidence for its existence.
Next question: if a tree falls in the woods and Cardinal Kasper isn’t there to hear it, does it make a sound?
(By the way, John L. Allen has a good piece up on the clash between the German-speaking bishops and the African ones at this Synod. In short, he says that the Africans aren’t willing to Stepin Fetchit for the Europeans any longer.)
I don’t know a single Christian in public life who has suffered more in defending traditional teaching on marriage than has Maggie Gallagher. She and I have clashed in the past over tactics (but not on basic principles), but I have boundless respect for her in part because I have seen the kind of unshirted hatred she has had to endure over the years. And she lost. She knows that she lost the fight — but when so many others who shared her beliefs but not her courage stood on the sidelines, she fought.
That counts for something. That counts for a lot.
So when Maggie Gallagher expresses great distress over what’s going on in Rome this week, I pay special attention. Excerpts:
After the initial shock, many leading Catholic voices are regrouping to refocus their public response to the synod report, which is after all not a teaching of the bishops (as the New York Timesmisreported), but a mid-session committee report.
As Robert George wrote on Public Discourse: “[The synod] has no teaching authority whatsoever. What’s more, it proposed no changes – none — in the doctrine or moral teaching of the Church.”
Nothing has changed, they tell us.
But something has changed. Pope Francis, by hand-selecting these six men to issue an unprecedented public report on a discussion in mid-process, is sending a strong if indirect signal about how Catholics and our institutions should respond, practically, to the triumph of the sexual revolution, including its latest phase, gay marriage. The synod report, if adopted by the bishops, will change Catholic witness and teaching either on marriage, or on the Eucharist, or both.
She goes on to talk about her very personal reasons for believing in and defending the Catholic Church’s teaching on marriage. And then:
The “growing majority are in favor of an opening,” said Cardinal Kasper, meaning an opening to the possibility that divorced, civilly remarried Catholics will receivie Communion without first having had an annulment. He added that the Holy Father has been “silent” about his opinion and “has listened very carefully” during the synod. “But it’s clearly what he wants, and that’s evident,” Cardinal Kasper said. “He wants a major part of the episcopacy with him and he needs it. He cannot do it against the majority of the episcopacy.” He added that the pope had told him problems exist “in his family” and that he has “looked at the laity and seen the great majority are for a reasonable, responsible opening.”
This is high drama with the highest of stakes, calling into question whether or not the pope himself believes what the Catholic Church has taught for 2,000 years, based on the words of Jesus Christ: a sacramental marriage between baptized Christians cannot be dissolved by any power on earth. And through this public debate, the most anti-clerical of all recent popes is permitting others to call into question (using his own name) the settled Church teaching not only on two sacraments, the Eucharist and Marriage, but ultimately on papal authority. The pope cannot teach that divorce is impossible and possible at the same time. If divorced and remarried Catholics (who are committing either adultery or polygamy depending on your point of view in the Catholic tradition) can in good conscience take the Eucharist, then either Pope Francis is wrong, or the popes before him were all wrong. Either way the idea that we can look with confidence to the Holy Father to guide our lives is exploded.
It’s likely that the pope will not pronounce any change in practice “ex cathedra,” so the doctrine of papal infallibility that attaches to those rare statements will not be formally in question. But the ordinary faith that Catholics are supposed to have and that they once had in the words of the pope will have become impossible. I cannot stake my life on the words of Cardinal Kasper and John Paul II at the same time. If Pope Francis makes Cardinal Kasper’s views his own, I will have to disbelieve one or the other of our Holy Fathers. A schism will have been introduced into the fabric of the Catholic faith at the very heart of what is distinctively Catholic.
Read the whole thing. Gallagher emphasizes that the people who comfort themselves by saying nothing to see here, move along are flat-out wrong. This is consequential.
Veteran Vatican correspondent John L. Allen speculates on what will happen if the Synod ends with conservative laity believing that the Pope is not on their side. Some will hunker down in their own parishes, if they have good ones, but others may drift away from involvement in Church activities, he says. And this could significantly damage the Church, in his view. More:
What people generally think of as “conservative” Catholics are often among the Church’s most dedicated members, among other things serving as major financial donors. Already, one head of a conservative think tank in Rome this week said he’d gotten a call from one of his benefactors saying that if things keep going the way they are, he was going to stop ponying up.
More broadly, Catholics typically labeled as “conservative” are often people who carry water for the Church at all levels, from the local to the universal. If that pool of human capital begins to dry up, it could make it more difficult for Francis to advance his agenda.
Assuming that conservative (or, as I prefer, orthodox) Catholics find themselves alienated from Francis in the way many liberal Catholics were from Benedict, I think few orthodox Catholics will leave the Church over it. After all, as Allen says, they are tied to the RC institution as liberal Catholics are not. Relatedly, they know as a matter of theological conviction that a bad pope does not invalidate the truths proclaimed by the Church. They will dig in and endure (though this caveat: it is dangerous to believe that doctrinal conviction will be enough to hold all conservative believers; faith is not based on reason alone). Allen would know better than I, certainly, but I do not see an exodus into Orthodoxy or any other form of Christianity.
But I do think Allen is on to something when he says there could be a retreat from the day to day life of the Church. If you move in conservative Catholic circles, you are well acquainted with parents who are angry about their Catholic schools because, in their view, the schools do not teach Catholicism in any real sense; they are, in effect, public schools with religion courses tacked on. Plus, there are many orthodox Catholics who don’t get involved in their parishes because the parish is run by priests and/or a strong coterie of laity who are liberal; the orthodox may conclude that life in the parish should not be an ideological battleground. I know this is true because I lived it myself, once upon a time.
What Francis risks is these orthodox Catholic believers seceding in place from the institutional church. For example, you find in some places independently-run Catholic schools that exist outside the diocesan bureaucracy. These schools are typically formed by parents dissatisfied with the official Catholic schools, and who want their children to receive a more robust and orthodox Catholic education. Or, these parents homeschool. Some of them make involvement in Catholic groups like Opus Dei the center of their faith activity, and not the parish — this, not because of any sinister reason, but because they want to be spiritually fed, and they’re not getting it at parishes run like sacrament factories.
And so forth. This, I believe, is the sort of danger Francis faces in trying to liberalize the Church: the laypeople most committed to the faith withdrawing from active participation in the Church’s official ministries, and instead pouring their energy and their money into parallel Catholic institutions, with the broad idea being that the faith needs some institutional expression to endure the long dying of the liberalized mainstream within the Catholic Church. In 2012, Ross Douthat wrote:
[T]oday the Episcopal Church looks roughly how Roman Catholicism would look if Pope Benedict XVI suddenly adopted every reform ever urged on the Vatican by liberal pundits and theologians. It still has priests and bishops, altars and stained-glass windows. But it is flexible to the point of indifference on dogma, friendly to sexual liberation in almost every form, willing to blend Christianity with other faiths, and eager to downplay theology entirely in favor of secular political causes.
Yet instead of attracting a younger, more open-minded demographic with these changes, the Episcopal Church’s dying has proceeded apace. Last week, while the church’s House of Bishops was approving a rite to bless same-sex unions, Episcopalian church attendance figures for 2000-10 circulated in the religion blogosphere. They showed something between a decline and a collapse: In the last decade, average Sunday attendance dropped 23 percent, and not a single Episcopal diocese in the country saw churchgoing increase.
Douthat points out that no Christian church has escaped decline, but while the conservative churches have merely declined, the liberal ones have collapsed. There is absolutely no reason to believe that liberalizing doctrine or pastoral practice (which, at the grassroots level, is a distinction without much of a difference) will result in a resurgence of support for the Catholic Church.
A Catholic friend says this is why he doesn’t believe that Damon Linker’s Francis-as-liberal-Machiavelli scenario is valid. Surely Francis can look around him and see the false hope of liberalized Christianity, which has been a disaster for every church that has tried it. I disagree. It is very hard to wean religious progressives away from the belief that making the church more like the secular world is the answer to the problem of religious decline. As Douthat himself wrote in that 2012 column, the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, Katharine Jefferts Schori, gave a rather less than persuasive answer when asked about the failure of Episcopalians to reproduce themselves. From that interview:
How many members of the Episcopal Church are there in this country?
About 2.2 million. It used to be larger percentagewise, but Episcopalians tend to be better-educated and tend to reproduce at lower rates than some other denominations. Roman Catholics and Mormons both have theological reasons for producing lots of children.
Episcopalians aren’t interested in replenishing their ranks by having children?
No. It’s probably the opposite. We encourage people to pay attention to the stewardship of the earth and not use more than their portion.
To be clear, no Christian church has come up with a credible plan to reverse the overall decline. But there is no reason at all to believe that liberalization will be successful, and many reasons to believe that it will be a disaster. Doing so would alienate many of the most committed believers, while doing little to attract those who don’t have much interest in a sacrificial commitment to the faith. Good luck trying to get the progressive theological mind to see these facts. The liberal avatar Cardinal Kasper represents Catholics in a highly secular, socially liberal country in which Catholicism is moribund, yet he truly believes that liberalizing is the way to bring Germans back into the faith, such that he thinks that Catholics in parts of the world where the faith is healthy ought not be listened to when their (orthodox Catholic) beliefs contradict what he chooses to believe. Cardinal Kasper is not a stupid man, not by a long shot. But he is in the grips of an ideology.
I’m interested to hear from your readers who consider yourselves conservative/orthodox Catholics. Does John Allen have a point? What do you consider to be the danger? If you lose confidence in Pope Francis’s leadership, what do you think your response will be?
UPDATE: Sign of the times, photographed at that everything-must-go sale at a closing Benedictine convent in Pennsylvania:
UPDATE.2: If Sandro Magister’s report is correct, the fix is in, and the main fixer is Pope Francis, who has stage-managed this coup. Stunning, stunning stuff:
On Tuesday, October 14, at a press conference, South African cardinal Wilfrid Napier denounced in biting words the effect of the prevarication carried out by Forte by inserting those explosive paragraphs into the “Relatio.” These, he says, have put the Church in an “irredeemable” position, with no way out. Because by now “the message has gone out: This is what the synod is saying, this is what the Catholic Church is saying. No matter how we try correcting that, whatever we say hereafter is going to be as if we’re doing some damage control.”
In reality, in the ten linguistic circles in which the synod fathers carried out the discussion, the “Relatio” was heading for a massacre. Starting with its language, “overblown, rambling, too wordy and therefore boring,” as the official relator of the French-speaking “Gallicus B” group mercilessly blasted it, although this group contained two champions of its language – and of its likewise vague and equivocal contents – in cardinals Christoph Schönborn and Godfried Danneels.
When the assembly resumed its work on Thursday, October 16, secretary general Baldisseri, with the pope beside him, made the announcement that the reports of the ten groups would not be made public. A protest exploded. Australian cardinal George Pell, with the physique and temperament of a rugby player, was the most intransigent in demanding the publication of the texts. Baldisseri gave up. That same day, Pope Francis saw himself forced to expand the group charged with writing the final relation, adding Melbourne archbishop Denis J. Hart and above all the combative South African cardinal Napier.
Who, however, had seen correctly. Because no matter what may be the outcome of this synod, intentionally devoid of any conclusion, the effect desired by its directors has to a large extent been reached.
On homosexuality as on divorce and remarriage, in fact, the new talk of reform inserted into the global media circuit is worth much more than the favor actually gained among the synod fathers by the proposals of Kasper or Spadaro.
Francis as liberal Machiavelli indeed. Amazing. Read the whole thing. Mene, mene tekel upharsin.
Well blow me down. The Catholic journalist Edward Pentin proves that Cardinal Walter Kasper is lying when he denies having said what he said about the African bishops, and when he denies having given an interview. Pentin has the recording and has put it on his site. I listened to it. The transcript he published differs slightly from what the cardinal says, but not meaningfully (it appears that Pentin simply clarified the cardinal’s English). The Cardinal did say that you can’t discuss homosexuality with the Africans (and Asians and Muslims), and he did say that the Synod isn’t listening to their views. The money quotes start at around the three-minute mark on the recording.
The interview was conducted in public (you can hear the sounds of traffic), with at least two other journalists participating. The reporters identified themselves as reporters. There is no sense that the cardinal was ambushed. He spoke to the reporters for seven minutes. What clearly happened is that Cardinal Kasper made a Kinsleyesque gaffe: that is, he erred by telling an impolitic truth, at least as he sees the truth.
Why on earth did Kasper deny saying what he said, or giving the interview? I understand why this is embarrassing to him, but good grief, he looks like a fool now, and a manipulative fool. A (non-trad) Catholic friend of mine e-mails to say that so far, it looks like all the trad conspiracy theories about the Synod are coming true.
You have to understand that at least some Catholic bishops have no trouble dissembling to reporters and to the public when it’s to their perceived advantage. That’s just how it is, and the sooner you realize this, the better off you are. This is one big reason the institution lacks credibility. Some bishops play fast and loose with the truth when it suits their agendas. And sometimes, it blows up in their faces.
But Cardinal Kasper doesn’t look as bad as the Catholic news service Zenit, which sandbagged its reporter by taking down the news story, presumably at Cardinal Kasper’s request. Zenit is owned and run by the disgraced ultraconservative religious order the Legionaries of Christ. Back in the spring of 2002, when the LCs owned the National Catholic Register (they no longer do), I participated in a conference of Catholic journalists. We talked about the scandal. The then-publisher of the Register, a Legionary priest named Fr. Owen Kearns, smugly praised his own paper for not getting down in the gutter with the secular press and writing about this filthy scandal. It was a shocking display of the lack of journalistic integrity under LC leadership. The publisher-priest plainly saw his job as carrying water for the hierarchy, not reporting the truth.
Some things with the LCs never change, I suppose. Shame on them for what they did to Edward Pentin.
UPDATE: Take it away, Matthew Schmitz:
It is hard to say why Kasper chose to tell a very obvious lie. It is even harder to say why some were so ready to defend his original comments. It requires an exceedingly partisan mind to spin as insightful comments so offensive that even their speaker won’t stand behind them. Gallicho’s choice to take to the pages of Commonweal to lavish praise on the remarks suggests something that anyone who watches Church politics begins to suspect: Catholicism is now second only to Sufism in the central role accorded to spin.