Living Between Dorothy Day and St. Michael: A Reflection on my First Year as Pastor of St. John Bosco, Chicago

 

August eighth marked my one year anniversary as pastor of St. John Bosco Parsh, Chicago. It passed without fanfare, and to be honest, without me remembering that it was the date of my arrival in 2013. Someone asked me the other day if I'd been here a year yet, thus making me do the math in my head. So, with one year under the belt, here's my perspective on life at Bosco.

To put it simply, I've seen two great realities converge in this year, realities that are usually seen as mutually exclusive, but I, increasingly, think not. One is that the material needs of the people are great. Many families are being squeezed by the present economic situation. The politicians can spin it any way they want; there are many unemployed or under employed people living from rent check to rent check, utility bill to utility bill not knowing how they'll pay them. The demands on our emergency family fund and food pantry is at an all time high, and this isn't an exaggeration.

The second is that more and more people are coming reporting problems of a preternatural nature: things moving in their house, seeing unexplainable shadows or themselves experiencing some form of demonic oppression or infestation. The common link is that these people, or someone close to them or someone living in their apartment building have dabbled or are involved in occult activities. Can some of these events be chalked up to mental illness or an overactive imagination? Sure. Just like not everyone who comes to the door looking for a handout is legit, not everyone claiming some demonic episode is on the level. And with a little experience one can learn to tell the difference, in both situations. But I just don't believe in mass hysteria, and really it's not hysteria at all. The people who come are generally very discreet, and are unsure of what's happening. In a strange way this is one sign that something probably is happening.

Like I implied at the start, issues of social justice and spiritual warfare are usually seem as preoccupations of two separate "camps" within Catholicism. People who read America or Commonweal and vote Democrat are perceived as usually being more concerned about the plight of the poor and economic justice. Those who read National Catholic Register or visit the Spirit Daily website regularly and vote Republican will wear St. Benedict metals and believe in demonic possession. But that has to change.

Pope Francis has spoken a great deal about economic issues, but has also about the reality of Satan. He has even linked the two things, implying that the concentration of economic and political power in the hands of a few is a product of both unjust systems and the machinations of the evil one (I read this a few months ago, and went back to try to find the article but couldn't. A reminder to me to bookmark more). 

Obviously when a family comes in need of rent assistance or food I'm not suggesting that we sprinkle holy water on them and send them on their way.  We as a parish need to do what we can to meet their immediate needs, while learning how to network more effectively with state and Church agencies to facilitate long range help. Also, we need to advocate for reforms that put people and families at the heart of our nation's economic and political life.

There is too this dark spiritual undercurrent. Secularists believe that reason replaces faith, but in truth  as traditional religion fades superstition increases, as Pope Benedict once said. We are hardwired for the transcendent, and if we don't seek it through the conventional avenues people will find others. Spiritualism and occult practices are on the rise, in part, because Catholicism demands surrender to God's will and the occult promises control over spiritual forces, and by extension the natural world. But these are uncontrollable forces and the ministers of the Church are left to deal with the ramifications of playing with unholy fire.

To wrap up, my conclusion is that as a Church we shouldn't choose between social justice and spiritual warfare; we're not either devoted to Dorothy Day or St. Michael. We don't need to be doing both at the same time, but we need to be doing both. And I admit, I can't articulate where the Holy Father is coming from when he connects the two realities; I'm pretty much taking his word for it. Not just because he's the Pope, but because I've seen it with my own two eyes, even if I don't have the words to explain the reality. 

Pius X: The Under Appreciated Pope Saint

One afternoon, when I was probably thirteen or 14 years old, I found myself hanging out around our parish school building, outside the cafeteria. This was unusual because I went to public school, and while I attended CCD classes there on Sunday mornings and, by this point, Wednesday afternoons for my entire childhood, I really didn't know the building that well. The cafeteria is in the basement, and I hardly ever went there, and had never previously exited through the outside doors. The reasons for me being in that location are lost to the fog of time, but there I was. The cafeteria, like I said, was in the basement, and this particular afternoon I decided to do some exploring, when I stumbled upon a statue of a saint that I'd never seen before. It seemed to be hidden near an outdoor staircase that lead up to street level. It was a plain, white stone statue of a bishop. The face was gentile, and the base was inscribed "Pope St. Pius X."

I was taken aback. "A pope can be a saint?", I thought. Even then I liked history, and I don't recall if the years of his reign were inscribed on the statue, or I found out later, but when I saw that he served between 1903 and 1914 I was even more astonished. I knew that the canonization process could take decades, and even centuries to work itself out, so I thought "a pope from this century, declared a saint, and we never hear about him? And why was this stature in the most inconspicuous spot on the parish property; are they trying to hide it?" I was flabbergasted. These were the days, long before the Internet, where you actually had to go to a library to get information on people, places and things. I can't say that I rushed out and began doing research, but over the years I did pick up things here and there about this saintly pope who lost favor became of changing theological fashions, and misunderstanding.

Pius X, born Giuseppe Sarto in 1835, was probably the first modern pope to have been born poor and had real pastoral experience before becoming the Successor of Peter. Most popes from roughly the Renaissance until the nineteen century came up through the aristocracy, becoming bishops at a young age due to their connections more than their sanctity. More recently, in the 20th century, many top churchmen went into the Church's diplomatic corps or curial bureaucracy soon after ordination, moving up the line because of their skills as administrators and diplomats. It doesn't mean that some of these men weren't very holy: Pope St. John XXIII, though of humble birth, went the diplomatic rout himself before becoming Patriarch of Venice and later pope. It's only to say that it wasn't uncommon to have a man ascend to the papacy without ever having served in a parish.

This cannot be said of Pius X, who went right into pastoral work after ordination, essentially serving in place of the regular pastor who was very ill. He oversaw the expansion of the parish's church building and of a hospital under his care. Don Giuseppe was a hands on priest who worked directly with cholera patients during an out break of the disease in his town. He was popular with the people, and "moved up," if you will, because of his hard work and dedication to his flock.

When he became pope in 1903 he had an understanding of how the faith was lived on the grass roots level, and set about reforms of the church bureaucracy to make things easier for both parish priests and the people they served. He reformed canon law, establishing an orderly, systematized code for the first time (this work would not be completed until after his death). He re-established Gregorian Chant as the normative musical style for the Sacred Liturgy; not just because it was traditional, but because it lent itself to congregational singing, and thus the active participation of the faithful better than the highly stylized orchestral music that had been in vogue in recent centuries. He simplified the breviary, the prayer book priests and religious use everyday, so that they could fulfill their obligation to pray for the Church more efficiently amid their busy pastoral responsibilities.

The reform that touched the people most directly was his lowering of the age for First Communion from 12 to 7. He also promoted frequent Communion, as well as confession, at a time when it was common practice to only receive Communion a few times a year. He believed firmly that the frequent reception of the Eucharist was the "shortest and safest way to Heaven."

As for the papacy itself, Pius X simplified papal ceremonies, always feeling uncomfortable with the trappings and pomp of the office. He also refused to use his office to benefit his family. His sisters continued to live in relative poverty and his nephew, a priest, remained in his small, simple parish.

Up to now, you might be wondering why Pius X fell out of favor for so long. In many ways he sounds like a lot like Pope Francis.

Pius fell out of favor with later generations because he fought modernism, a heresy, which in fairness is hard to define (the term is more of an accusation than than a name), but is connected with the integration of Enlightenment philosophy into Catholic thought, skepticism, relativism, and a rejection of the supernatural claims of Scripture. These were the early days of modern scripture study, and while some progressive scholars that fell under suspicion were later vindicated, others did deny the truth of Sacred Scripture, for instance denying the veracity of the miracle accounts, and even the divinity of Christ. Pius was ruthless, some would argue cruel, in rooting out scholars he felt were teaching doctrine contrary to the Faith. The criticism is that some wheat got pulled up with the weeds.

I can say that when I was in the minor seminary in New York many years ago Pius was not looked upon with great favor by my Church History professor, among others. His years were seen as repressive for Catholic intellectuals and scholars, and though it didn't take long for subsequent popes to step back from Pius' zealousness, it's felt that it took decades for the intellectual atmosphere in Catholic seminaries and universities to thaw.

In someways Vatican II is seen as the final triumph of the "anti-anti-modernists," where the Church finally adopted a post Enlightenment vocabulary and mindset. Pius X, the crusader for orthodoxy, who held the philosophy of Thomas Aquinas as his great weapon, just didn't fit into the narrative of updating and change that filled the post-conciliar air. I have to make it clear that those who take this point of view don't self  identify as modernists, and in fact don't believe that such a thing ever existed to begin with. While recognizing the extremes that some scholars at the turn of the 20th century engaged in, they would argue that there was no need for a systematic rooting out of dissenters. And so Pius X, saint of the Church though he is, was relegated to the back staircase near the dumpsters.

A scripture scholar I studied under at the same time put things in an interesting perspective for me. While he too did not believe that modernism was an organized heresy that needed fighting, he understood that things were moving fast in those days. There was legitimate inquiry going on, as well as those who were straying far from the faith. Pius wasn't a scholar, and had a hard time figuring out what was valid and what was heresy. So, he basically said, let's stop and give ourselves time to figure this out. Yes, some good men were hurt. Others were kept from active scholarship for a time before being permitted to go back to their work. While his methods may not have been ideal, that break is what the Church needed at that time to get whatever updating that was to happen right.

As we celebrate the Feast of Pius X today, which is also the 100th anniversary of his death, I think that we should remember a man who loved the flock he was sent to tend. He opened for them the riches of the Eucharist, knowing how powerful a means of grace the Sacrament of the Altar is. He understood what it meant to be a servant pope, much like Pope Francis today. He died as World War I was beginning, praying for peace and the reconciliation of the waring sides. He's a saint, which doesn't mean that the was perfect, but that he was faithful until the end. For this reason he should again be placed in a prominent place in our hearts, and in our churches. 

Robin Williams, 1951-2014

I was away on retreat last week, which is a partial explanation for my lack of out put this summer. But rather than make excuses, I'll dig in and get going again.

Much of the news this week was dominated by the death of actor and comedian Robin Williams. And while I don't want to make this a critique of his career, I believe that putting the actor first is right. He was Juilliard trained, acted in plays by Shakespeare and Samuel Becket, as well as winning an Oscar for a dramatic roll, and I think he was such a great comic, at least in part because of his acting sensibilities. While I don't agree with his friend Carrie Fisher, that he ranks with Charlie Chaplin, his was a unique talent that contributed to his being a complete performer. He was the best all around comedian of of his generation, and much more than that.

But more to my point.

When anyone commits suicide the obvious question the people left behind ask is why.  In this case there was no note left, as far as I know, so we are left to guess. Unfortunately, in this 24 hour news cycle - incessant media gossip driven culture, there has been no shortage of armchair psychologists lining up to give their diagnosis. There's been a flurry of speculation over his faltering personal finances, the reputed poor state of which his business manager said was highly exaggerated. Someone, a "friend" who refused to be identified, said Williams dreaded having to do a Mrs. Doubtfire sequel, and more movies in general, because of the emotional strain getting into character was for him. Some claimed he was embarrassed about having to do television again, others said he actually preferred it. The latest theory is that his Parkinson's medication increased his depression, which possibly put him over the edge. But the one person who can tell us for sure, Williams himself, can't. That is the tragedy beyond telling.

All the speculation is understandable, even if some of the coverage has been crudely sensationalized.  That Robin Williams was a famous person, and thus receives so much attention at his death, can blind us to the fact that he was a person - a human being - first. If the manner of his death helps to draw attention to the problem of clinical depression and suicide, then indeed some good will come out of this. If all it is is more fodder for the gossip page, then we've missed an opportunity. Suicide is still somewhat of a taboo subject that the surviving relatives don't like to talk about, there is so much guilt and anguish surrounding it. I've done funerals for people that I know had taken their own lives, but the family never acknowledged the fact. And I proceeded as I wasn't in the know, so as not to make a bad situation worse.

But what about suicide? What should our attitude be? From judging the public response we as a society, thankfully, still see suicide as being negative; something to be prevented. I saw one person somewhere out on the web say that Mr. Williams had made a choice so we shouldn't think ill of it. But for the most part we understand that suicide is a literal dead end that leaves no possibility of a future. There are those who support some form of euthanasia, which I don't, of course, but it was clear that what ever his physical condition he was in had not reached a point where such an action would be justifiable, even by supporters of assisted suicide.

From the Catholic stand point, suicide has always been considered a mortal sin because it is a rejection of God's most precious gift to us, life, and because it tries to seize control over life and death from from the Almighty's hands. It is a selfish act that devastates the loved ones who are left to deal with the feelings of guilt and hurt. They live the rest of their lives often times asking themselves why it happened and was their anything they could have done to prevent it.

In light of this longstanding belief that suicide is grave matter, warranting the loss of one's soul, the assumption that Catholics labored under for many centuries was that suicide meant automatic damnation to hell. Funeral services were often denied to people who took their own lives, as well as burial in Catholic cemeteries. This only added to the shame and grief of the surviving family members.

While we can judge acts, we should avoid judging individuals. We know that people who take their own lives are not in the right frame of mind, and depression and other emotional disorders can cloud the judgment, effecting people's ability to make a truly free act. For a sin to be grave in the subjective reality of life there must be grave matter, proper reflection and full consent of the will. In other words the act in question is objectively sinful, we know it's sinful and we do it anyway without any coercion. Mental illness can effect one or all of these factors.

Even before the advent of modern psychology the Church understood that you can't make blanket judgements about people who've taken their own lives. A distraught widow once came to St. Jean Vianney crying that her husband, who had jumped off a bridge, was in hell. The saint told her that she did not know that since she has no idea what went through his mind in the interval between leaping from the bridge and hitting the water. Who knows if he had sincerely repented and asked God's forgiveness or not? Only God knows. So it's for us to pray for his soul, and I would suggest we do the same for Mr. Williams. This would be far more beneficial than asking unanswerable questions and engaging in idle gossip.

Eternal rest grant unto him of Lord and let perpetual light shine upon him. May his soul, and all the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen