Scattered Thoughts on the Synod and Ross Douthat

Synod of Bishops

I haven't written much about the Synod of Bishops that just concluded this past Sunday in Rome. I stayed away, in part, because of a lingering Synod fatigue that I haven't fully recovered from after last year's extraordinary session. I just didn't have the mental energy for it. Now that it's over, I've only been able to find the Synod's final document in Italian, with excerpts in English here and there, so I really don't have a full grasp on what the bishops decided.

And in the end, whatever the bishops "decided" is secondary to what will be suggested (or mandated?) in the post synodal exhortation that the pope will likely publish within the next six months to a year. For all the talk of decentralization it will still come down to the Holy Father as to what direction the Church takes on the pastoral care for families of all shapes and sizes.

I do have some thoughts on the debates that have arisen over following the spirit of the law as opposed to adhering strictly to the letter, which I hope to get into later. All I'll say now is that the impression many people have is that to follow the spirit is to throw away the rule book and make it up as you go along. We may keep the general norms in mind, but by and large the spirit frees us to follow our own conscience, which in the contemporary scene seems to be the equivalent of following one's muse. But when Jesus was confronted with a legalistic question concerning divorce and remarriage he didn't offer a solution that was subjective or open-ended. In appealing to the spirit, in this case the way the Father intended them from the beginning, he spoke of the indissolubility of marriage, something none of his listeners, including the Apostles, were expecting or prepared for. In allowing divorce and remarriage Moses was giving in to the hardness of the people's hearts, and Jesus was calling us back to the spirit of God's plan from the beginning. In light of this, many found, and still find the letter much more forgiving than the spirit.

Ross Douthat and the New Pharisees 

I read the October 17 column by New York Times blogger Ross Douthat, which has caused no little buzz around the Catholic bloggesphere, only after reading several articles in defense of his right to free speech (more on that a bit later). In the given article, is he hard on Pope Francis? Yes, but not as hard as George Will was lately, and Maureen Dowd and Margery Eagan have been concerning previous popes (Dowd found cause to take a few jabs at the reigning pontiff, referring to him as the perfect 19th century pope: generous of spirit but still hopelessly backward when it comes to women). Yet a laundry list of theologians decided to write a letter to the editors of The Times condemning the post and asserting that Douthat shouldn't be allowed to write on the religion he is a practicing member of because he's not a credentialed theologian.

There are good responses, better than I can put it, from Bishop Barron here and from Rebecca Hamilton here.

What I will add is that there are some theologians who will argue that they possess a form of mangisterium similar to, if not equal to, that held by the pope in union with the bishops of the Church. Needless to say that I think this is nothing more than a bucket load of self aggrandizing horse spit. Theologians are at the service of the Church, and in the final analysis it is the hierarchy who passes judgement on the works of a theologian, not the other way around. I understand that, in my case, I may be a baptized Catholic, ordained to the priesthood, sent forth to preach and teach, as well as minister the sacraments, but I am not a trained theologian. I need to measure my words, know my limitations and be open when someone wiser and more learned than myself offers a correction, or even a rebuke.

But we must never forget that the Master chose 12 relatively uneducated men and a hand full of unschooled women (or at least whatever level of education they may have had, none were the equivalent of a what a credentialed theologian would have be in their age) to witness in His name. It was not the learned and wise who recognized the coming of the Messiah, but the old window Anna, who I'm pretty sure never stepped foot inside a classroom at Georgetown or South Bend (Lk 2:36-38).  It was the religious intellectual class who tried to shut up the man born blind when he made the right observations, observations they had no response for (Jn 9:24-36). It strikes me a bit ironic that these fine minds have taken the collective role of the Pharisees who saw their own learning as a pedestal that separated them from the lowly, sinful masses.

The one New Testament Apostle who could pass for a professional theologian was Paul. But he constantly referred to himself as a servant of the Gospel, not it's master. Even he, who took second place to no one, went to Jerusalem to have his preaching examined and approved before continuing with his work. What we all need is a bit of humility, and not judge a person's wisdom by the letters after his or her name.

I have a lot of respect for Ross Douthat, even though I don't agree with the tone and much of the content of the article in question. The pope isn't just another bishop, he is Christ's vicar, and Mr. Douthat at the very least came too close to crossing a line into disrespecting Christ's vicar for my taste. As a Catholic he should show more prudence, but as an American citizen he has every right to express his opinion on whatever topic suits his fancy. As a member of the baptized he has as much of a right to weigh in on the issues facing the Church as anyone, for we are all of us made, by that sacrament, into the image of Christ: priest prophet and king. All of us are called to be these three things, especially prophets, whether we have a credential or not.

Why I'm Not Scared of Halloween

The first time I heard that Halloween was an evil demonic celebration was when I was studying in Mexico in the late '90's. It was by way of an article by an Argentine priest condemning the feast, as not only the work of Satan but as an act of American style cultural imperialism. I would later hear the same argument, minus the demonic angle, condemning sending Christmas cards, and Santa Clause. Now that I work in a predominantly Latino parish every year I must endure the same questions about if it's alright to let children dress up and go trick or treating on October 31. If people only knew how much I'm not scared of Halloween, and how much better the world would be if more Christians (particularly adults) took the same attitude.

I'm not scared of Halloween because I know that it is, from it's origins, a Christian observance. The word Halloween comes to us from 18th century Scotland, where the night before November 1 was referred to as All Hallows Even (All Hallows = All Saints, Even = Eve). So the name itself simply means the Eve of All Saints Day, which is exactly what it is. While the term was being used regularly by the 1740's, there doesn't seem to be any evidence that it was used at all before the 1550's. So it's origins are tied to the Christian observance of All Saints Day.

For a more detailed explanation of the Catholic roots of Halloween go here.

Don't get me wrong, I understand the Celtic pagan influences on the observance. I also understand that various groups, including satanists and wiccans, have adopted the feast and twisted it to their own purposes. What I find more disturbing is how what was always an innocent carnival for children has been turned into an adult affair complete with overly sexualized and ghoulish costumes. But does this mean that Christians should just give up and surrender the day to these unsavory elements? I say no. I say the answer to the problem that is Halloween is to reclaim it and accent it's Catholic roots.

Just as we fight to keep Christ in Christmas and keep the focus on the Resurrection at Easter in the face of the secular distractions associated with those feasts, we should keep the Saints in Halloween. While the Nativity and Easter are more important than All Saints Day, it is a Solemnity and a holy day of obligation. We shouldn't surrender, even it's vigil, to secular tastes. If we are unhappy with the emphasis on the dark side, then it is for us to shine the light on holiness, which is what All Saints Day is about. So if I am going to make any suggestions it would be these 2:

1. Re-establish in our minds the link between Halloween and All Saints Day. These are not two celebrations that just happen to be on successive days. Halloween is not a demonic inversion of All Saints Day, either. It is the Eve, or Vigil of All Saints Day. We will celebrate the Mass for the Solemnity that evening, and any parties celebrated should reflect that fact.

2. Dressing in costumes are good, especially for children. It helps to cultivate their imaginations, and is just plain fun. But either have your child dress like saint or at the very least like something positive and innocent like a historical figure or fictional hero.

What I wouldn't do is just say no to Halloween and not offer an alternative. Their friends will be out that night, and your children will simply sit at home not understanding what the big deal is. Eventually they may come to understand, but we still will have missed an opportunity to catechize and build community spirit.

Worse yet, we will be surrendering to the dominant culture, denying our own heritage while thinking that we are doing the opposite.

Bishop Barron on Pope Francis and Mercy

Cubs-Mets: Taking Exile in Baseball Switzerland

The first draft of this post assumes you know me and my background, so it might be a little confusing at first. You could put two and two together by reading my profile, but who has time for that? I'm a New Yorker living in Chicago, who loves both places, and while my sports allegiances mainly reflect my East Coast roots, I pull for the adopted home town teams when they aren't playing the Yankees, Giants or Knicks. But what about when they play those other New York teams? In here lies the dilemma. 

For the first time, probably ever, I'm in a no lose sports situation, that simultaneously is no win. That the New York Mets are facing the Chicago Cubs in the NLCS, that begins tomorrow in Queens, is leaving me in a bind. For those who know me, I'm a life long Yankee fan, but I'm also a fan of the game and it's history.

I'm also no Mets hater. When it comes to the team in Flushing I take the attitude Vito Corleone had with The Turk: I wish them luck so long as their interests don't conflict with mine.

And actually this post season my interest in the Mets goes beyond just New York-centric jingoism. I feel good for Terry Collins, the Mets manager. He took the job in 2011 knowing that the organization was in a shambles financially, which meant no big free agent signings to cover for the lack of major league ready prospects down on the farm. The Mets weren't very good between 2011 and '13, it's true, but they always seemed to play hard. It might sound strange to say about a consistently sub .500 team, but they were often fun to watch, and I have to believe that owed to their manager's no nonsense yet enthusiastic style.

Collins, after holding the fort for three seasons, cheerleading a loser, enthusiastically waving the orange and blue in defiance of reality, had to be relieved to see, like most of us did last year, that things were going to finally change for the better. Most experts saw them competing for a wild card berth this year, but beyond all expectations they won the division out right. There were rumors before last season even ended though that now that the Mets were competitive again they were going to shuffle Collins out and bring in a "real" manager. That didn't happen, and now the Mets are back in the LCS quicker than most expected. I'm happy Terry Collins gets to enjoy the rewards after suffering through some very lean seasons, made more agonizing, I must imagine, knowing that losing was a part of the short, and even intermediate, organizational game plan.

As for the Cubs, according to some records, there are possibly fewer than 75 people alive in the world today who were born before the Cubs last won the World Series. This is even more amazing when you consider the blessed event happened in 1908. I'd be surprised if any of them remember it, or if they are still in the mental state to remember something that happened 107 years ago, cared then or now.

Yes, 1908. Teddy Roosevelt was president of the United States, of which there were 47. Ronald Reagan, Richard Nixon, Gerald Ford and JFK weren't born yet, and Lyndon Johnson was two months old. Blessed Mother Teresa was also yet to be born. There was still a czar in Russia. St. Pius X was pope, and the Vatican City State was yet to be established. A loaf of bread was .5c, and people still though the moon was made of green cheese (OK, I made that last one up). I could go on, but you get the picture: the North Siders are due.

And the city of Chicago and its environs are electric with anticipation. Like the Mets, everyone thought that the Cubs would be improved this year, but no one thought that they were a serious contender. They are a wild card team, but out of a very tough division that produced three playoff teams, and had a better regular season record then either the Mets or the NL West champion Dodgers.  So the City of Big Shoulders has a reason to celebrate and be confident.

When they won the division series Tuesday the next morning's Tribune published something like a 100 point front page headline normally reserved for for luxury liners hitting icebergs and world wars ending. That night the streets around Wrigley Field were crowded with people waiting to go crazy at the final out, neighborhood bars were filled to overflowing, the stars fell from the sky and the moon turned a blood red. As a jaded Yankees fan I can't help but wonder what they're going to do if they actually win it all? I mean, don't they know it's still a long way to go, and while winning the first round is wonderful, it's not a dancing with wild abandon in the streets with an Old Style in one hand, a Vienna beef frank (NO KETCHUP, EVER!) in the other while kissing a total stranger worthy event? Come on guys and gals, a little decorum! Act like you've been here before!

Well, the truth is they haven't been here very often in the last century plus, and when they have it's ended in bitter disappointment. So while I'm a spoiled Yankee fan, for whom anything short of getting to the World Series is considered a failure, it's actually refreshing to see the enthusiasm, joy and just plain giddiness of the Cub fans, and the affect the team's run has had on the city.

I really do hope all goes well for the Cubbies. I was here for the Bartman "incident," and things got ugly really fast. The city was in a similar state of euphoria at the prospects ending the then 96 year championship drought, and the team's collapse in the 2003 NLCS (not Steve Bartman's fault, by the way) left the eternally optimistic Cub fans uncharacteristically bitter for years afterward. The positive spirit is back, and it's great to see.

So what to do? I have friends who are fans of both teams, in both metropolitan areas. I'm a New Yorker by birth, and a Chicagoan by the grace of God. Any other year, with the Yankees polishing off their golf clubs in October, I'd gladly take a brief joyride on either teams bandwagon. But I just can't get myself to take a side. First, because I feel strongly about both teams, and I hate admit it, I'm not sure its safe to. I have to live here, and I would like to visit New York again in my lifetime.

I could say that I'm rooting for the Chi-York Cubmepolitans, which I know is not going to get me off the hook, either. I'm just going to stay in a neutral country the next week or so, knowing that whoever wins the LCS, I'll have someone to root for in the World Series.

Synod Fatigue, and Other Scattered Thoughts

I share Fr. Z's Synod Burnout, which set in for me about a week before last year's ended. I followed 2014's extraordinary session closely, but this year I don't have the energy. It's enough to still have to digesting the Pope's visit to the U.S. two weeks ago, a gift that seems to keep on giving.

If you picked up a brush stroke of sarcasm in that last line, you're on to something. But it's truly only a touch of irony, because the pope's visit was a true gift, and pouring over his public words delivered during both the Cuban and U.S. legs of his visit to the Western Hemisphere is a great source of spiritual nourishment. Whatever disquiet I'm feeling isn't with Pope Francis, but rather with many of his supporters and detractors. We still don't get it: the pope is not a politician. He isn't a Republican or Democrat. He isn't here to satisfy our preconceived agenda concerning what direction the Church should go in. He is here to testify to the truth and hearten the faithful. But we can't help but pick over every word and gesture of the Holy Father and use them to justify our own agendas.

When Pope Francis speaks before Congress, calling for the universal abolition of the death penalty and international arms trade progressives rejoice and traditionalists cringe. When he visits the Little Sisters of the Poor, who presently have a law suit pending against the government over certain provisions of the Affordable Health Care Act, the gesture proves that he's a culture warrior. But wait, he also privately met with a former student and his same sex partner, so he must be open minded about marriage "equality." Oh no, he also met with Kim Davis, the county clerk jailed for not issuing marriage licenses to same sex couples: it simply can't be! Will this man make up his mind who he is?

Who he is is the supreme pontiff: the great bridge builder. Within the Church his mission is to insure unity, correct error and encourage the faithful. To the world he is to be a link, a bridge, between Christ and all people of good will, and even those lacking in such favorable intentions. He points out where the Church and the world share common cause, and where we may disagree, but always in the spirit of keeping the lanes of communication open. So he meets with all sorts of people: Jews and gentiles, Christians and pagans, clean and unclean, hoping to persuade at least some.

Now the Church is in the midst of a synod. It doesn't carry the same weight as a full blown council, but it does have some of the qualities of one. As Bishop Robert Barron has observed in the past, during a council the Church is in a state of suspense as She makes an examination of Herself, questioning what is the truth and what is the best way ahead. When a council ends, then its back to business as usual, but with a renewed sense of purpose and focus. The present synod, in particular, has this quality of keeping us in suspense. Even if there are no great doctrinal pronouncements made, there will surly be administrative and process changes made or solidified that will change the way marriage prep is done and the annulment process is conducted. This is not just speculation: we've been told, in so many words, by our local tribunal office to wait until December before initiating annulment proceedings so that we can see exactly what the extent of the reforms initiated by the Holy Father last month will be. There is also the small, practical detail, that the reforms already put in place won't take effect until December 8 (the beginning of the Holy Year of Mercy) and the new forms aren't prepared yet. Whether the changes are big or small, two straight years of living in suspense has taken its toll on my delicate psyche, and I've just needed to take a step back.

Fatigued as I am, this will be the week I start to really pay attention to the goings on in Rome. I'll be back with more reflections on that, and on the pope's recent U.S. visit.