The latest issue of Quadrant is full of thoughtful and thought-provoking articles. As ever. This is why I read it.
Christie Davies approaches a topical issue from a secular conservative viewpoint: ‘Why same-sex marriage happened, and where we go next.’ (Subscriber only — sorry.)
Davies supports same-sex marriage for liberal reasons: personal freedom, and utilitarian benevolence. In other words, the state should not be empowered to stop two unmarried citizens from entering into civil marriage, which he defines as a secular contract between two individuals. Moroever, marriage will benefit gays and lesbians, adding to their respectability and reducing harmful behaviours. (His byline reads: “Christie Davies and his wife are very happy, which is why he wants others to enjoy the same felicity.”)
What’s interesting, though, is that while Davies supports gay marriage, he is dubious of gay marriage activists. He rejects the “marriage equality” argument, which derives not from liberalism, but from Marxism.
If you meet someone who says, “I care passionately about equality,” you can be sure that you are in the presence of an irrational and possibly dangerous person, who will sacrifice all aspects of the good society just to get more equality. They hate the freedom of capitalism because it produces unequal rewards. They hate the family because they see it as the transmitter of property and privilege. They are vocal in favour of same-sex marriage not because of any benefits it might bring, but only because it fits their egalitarian agenda.
Davies concludes by calling for a new alliance between conservatives and married gays and lesbians, who might be recruited to the conservative cause. Not unlike Andrew Bolt.
In significant ways, Davies’ case is marginal to the Catholic case. Secular conservatism is not, and never will be, synonymous with the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Nonetheless, Davies’ article has clarified my thinking. In last week’s post on the Australian bishops’ letter, I was perhaps a bit too critical of Don’t Mess With Marriage. The letter is deficient in what it does not say, but it is nonetheless an excellent pastoral letter for what it does say. Credit where it’s due. Credit to our bishops.
The letter engages almost solely with the “equality” case for marriage. No wonder. The case for “marriage equality” has dominated the debate in this country and abroad. But Davies has me wondering. Maybe it’s the freedom argument which has earned broad public support, not the equality argument at all. I must say, from my perspective the argument from equality is patently spurious, and the bishops dispatch it masterfully. But the argument from freedom is another matter. It is coherent and even compelling.
In any event, I would maintain that the hierarchical Church’s primary task, at this juncture, is not to influence public opinion. That ship has long since sailed. Of course Catholic laity, acting in their capacity as citizens, can and should engage in the democratic process and continue to influence public opinion using secular arguments.
But the hierarchy’s duty, right now, is to persuade Catholics themselves. By that I mean we have to explain why Jesus teaches what he teaches. As I’ve said before: apologetics.
When unspeakable tragedy occurs — the sort of tragedy which now afflicts Phillip Walsh’s family — a natural question arises. Is God absent?
It’s not a bad question. By that I mean it’s not a sinful question. In fact the question arises quite often in the Bible, especially in the psalms. Our Lord was quoting from one of those psalms when he cried from the cross: Eli Eli lema sabachthani?
Is God absent? is a good question to ask — and now I mean an appropriate question to ask — when we find ourselves in the middle of affliction.
But when we are onlookers, I think it might be the wrong question. When we are bystanders to another person’s suffering, a better question, I think, is How can I make God present?
In some ways, that is a scandalous question, but ours is a scandalous religion. God repeatedly makes Himself vulnerable and dependent on creatures. The Scandal of the Incarnation. The Scandal of the Nativity. The Scandal of the Cross. The ongoing Scandal of the Eucharist.
This strange dependency of God, despite His omnipotency, is evident in a different way in this Sunday’s Gospel:
Jesus said to them, ‘A prophet is only despised in his own country, among his own relations and in his own house’; and he could work no miracle there, though he cured a few sick people by laying his hands on them. He was amazed at their lack of faith.
No faith = no miracles. He will not work alone.
So, in the face of unspeakable suffering, when God is apparently absent, it falls to us to make Him present. Or more precisely, to make His presence known.
In the first place, this is achieved by intercessory prayer. We should not underestimate the power of the prayers we pray for others. Pope Francis likens it to “leaven” in the heart of the Trinity:
It is a way of penetrating the Father’s heart and discovering new dimensions which can shed light on concrete situations and change them. We can say that God’s heart is touched by our intercession, yet in reality he is always there first. What our intercession achieves is that his power, his love and his faithfulness are shown ever more clearly in the midst of the people.
Evangelii Gaudium, 283
And then, of course, God also expects us to act on His behalf. Christ has no hands, no feet on earth but yours, in the words of St Teresa of Avila.
In practical terms, that means that when a friend or acquaintance is afflicted by grief, we need to be present. Whether that takes the form of a visit or a phone call or a letter is a matter of discernment: prayerful dialogue with the Holy Spirit.
But we need to overcome the temptation to stay away. To give people space. To pay our respect from a distance.
We don’t need to formulate the right words. We don’t need to contrive the right emotional posture. We just need to be present. When we are present, with our prayers and with our affection, then we have an answer to that question. God is present insofar as we are present.
We’ve all had uncomfortable conversations which we’d rather avoid. In those moments it’s tempting to misrepresent one’s true thoughts and keep the peace.
Priests have lots of these conversations, though possibly no more than others. But priests have a big advantage. Priests minister sacramental confession.
When I am hearing confessions, I’m acutely conscious that I act in persona Christi. It is one of those very rare moments when I am enabled and obliged to judge another person. I certainly don’t do this on my own behalf, but only in service to the Lord, whose justice and mercy I minister.
No one on earth will ever know the advice I give to penitents. But God knows. This is one instance when the easy way out — acquiescence and agreeability — is not an option at all. Since I speak for God, not for myself, I am absolutely obliged to be faithful to God’s truth.
At the same time, the penitent is in a very vulnerable position. (I know, because I’m frequently a penitent myself!) They have just opened up their heart, and exposed their inner life. Not to me, but to our Lord. So I have another obligation, no less grave: to be kind. To minister the Lord’s mercy.
I do not remember the sins I hear in the confessional, because I ask to forget them, and the Holy Spirit grants me that favour. But though I remember nothing, the act of hearing confessions changes me. I am practiced in speaking the truth with love, which is often a very challenging task.
But of course this task, the duty to proclaim the truth with love, is not exclusive to priests. Every Christian is called to do this. Even in the most awkward conversations, the most unwanted confrontations, we must be faithful to truth, and faithful to charity.
I think veritas in caritate has a certain “look.” It is serene. It is good-humoured. And it is humble. But it is seldom easy.
An impressive account of veritas in caritate appeared in my Facebook newsfeed today. It was a shining beacon in the midst of an ever-rolling stream of ill-measured and inflammatory comments.
The other day we got together with a friend of mine from high school named Andrew, and his boyfriend, Tom. We caught up on life and work, Andrew and I clicking as well as we always have. I wore waterproof mascara because I knew I’d end up laughing to the point of tears, which, in fact, I did.
Then, when my husband and Tom went to pick up a round of drinks at the bar, Andrew had a question for me. “So,” he said, grabbing a tortilla chip from the basket in front of us. “What do you think of gay marriage?”
The last time we hung out, this unspoken topic was not as palpably present as it was now. Even though our gay friends knew that we’d converted to Catholicism, nobody cared enough to bring up potentially controversial issues. But now, the mood in the world around us had changed. Throughout our country the issue of same-sex unions was being debated furiously; it had become a defining issue of our generation, and thus the average person was no longer allowed not to have an opinion about it. It was too weird to sit at the table, two orthodox Catholics and two men in a gay relationship, and not bring it up. We could no longer ignore the storm that raged outside the cloister of our friendship; the doors had blown open, and the rain had come inside.
I shrugged, trying to keep it casual.
This is one of those awkward conversations we’d all rather avoid. But the author, Jennifer Fulwiller, doesn’t do this. Instead she attempts that elusive balancing act of truth and love.
Read it all. It’s worth it.
This morning at Mass, I distributed the Australian bishops’ recent pastoral letter on marriage. Despite its assertive title — Don’t Mess With Marriage — it is a very mild document.
The document presents a case for traditional marriage which seeks to be as inoffensive as possible. By this measure, the document has failed. Here’s a few headlines to prove it:
- Anti-same-sex marriage booklet sent to Catholic schools ‘degrades’ gay students
- Catholic Church “desperate” after handing out anti-gay marriage booklets to children: Brisbane priest
- Penrith Catholic students burn ‘anti-gay’ booklets
- Don’t Mess With Marriage booklet could breach Anti-Discrimination Act
The supreme irony in this is that the document nowhere refers to the Church’s “most offensive” (read, most counter-cultural) moral teachings. No mention of the grave immorality of homosexual acts. No mention of objectively disordered inclinations. These teachings constitute the elephant in the room.
I spoke to a priest last week who was quite animated in his defence of traditional marriage. “Marriage can only occur between a man and a woman. If a same-sex couple came to me, I’d be very happy to bless them. I’d pray that they find God in their love for each other, and goodness in their life together. But it’s not marriage.”
Right. It’s not marriage. But what that priest said isn’t Catholic teaching either. A gravely immoral relationship can’t be blessed. This priest’s position is incompatible with the Catholic moral tradition. But it’s not incompatible with Don’t Mess With Marriage. I don’t wish to suggest that the bishops’ pastoral letter condones same sex relationships. That’s a logical leap too far. But certainly, the letter is ambiguous. It fails to present the full Catholic teaching on the subject.
For this reason, I also distributed to parishioners a much more comprehensive document. In 2003, Pope John Paul II approved the CDF’s Considerations Regarding Proposals to Give Legal Recognition to Unions Between Homosexual Persons. The title is much longer than the Australian bishops’ letter, but the document itself is much shorter. It’s also much more “offensive” — in that it doesn’t mince words and includes very direct exhortations.
Sacred Scripture condemns homosexual acts “as a serious depravity… (cf. Rom 1:24-27; 1 Cor 6:10; 1 Tim 1:10). This judgment of Scripture does not of course permit us to conclude that all those who suffer from this anomaly are personally responsible for it, but it does attest to the fact that homosexual acts are intrinsically disordered.” This same moral judgment is found in many Christian writers of the first centuries and is unanimously accepted by Catholic Tradition.
When legislation in favour of the recognition of homosexual unions is proposed for the first time in a legislative assembly, the Catholic law-maker has a moral duty to express his opposition clearly and publicly and to vote against it. To vote in favour of a law so harmful to the common good is gravely immoral.
Here we have language which is deeply provocative, and I can understand why it wasn’t used in the Australian bishops’ pastoral letter. The bishops want to teach and edify. They don’t want to offend.
But here’s the thing. Catholic teaching on homosexuality is offensive to a growing proportion of the population. We only have to review those headlines above to confirm it. As disciples of Jesus Christ, Catholics need to be comfortable with this. Our Lord, who of course excelled at speaking the truth with love, wasn’t very nice. He offended people left, right and centre. Why should things be different for us?
The furore caused by Don’t Mess With Marriage despite its mild presentation, suggests to me that we may as well be direct and avoid ambiguity. Hence my recommendation to parishioners to take and read both the bishops’ letter, and the CDF’s Considerations.
Many times in the last few years, I have heard bishops and cardinals call for a review of the language the Church uses. To cite a recent example, consider Cardinal Diarmuid Martin’s response to Ireland’s gay marriage yes vote:
“It’s very clear that if this referendum is an affirmation of the views of young people, then the Church has a huge task in front of it to find the language to be able to talk to and to get its message across to young people, not just on this issue, but in general.”
I think this is dead wrong. It’s also a bit patronising. “Marriage equality” activists aren’t offended by the language of Catholic moral teaching. They’re offended by the content. The Church has never waged a petty war of words. The Church is engaged in the noble battle of ideas.
Put another way, the “messaging remedy” is not semantic. The remedy is something which was banished from the Church’s seminaries and universities and schools 50 years ago, at great cost. The remedy is apologetics.
The Franciscan papacy is a curious thing. For the first time in my life, the pope is quoted at “mainstream” (read: Establishment) church meetings and functions like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I conjecture this must be what it was like in earlier times, before Pope Paul VI, before indifference to papal teaching became an established norm in the life of the institutional Church.
On the one hand, I rejoice at this new-found attentiveness to Rome because Pope Francis is our Holy Father. He is our Supreme Pastor, and we are supposed to heed his words, read his writings, and interiorise it all.
On the other hand, I lament that Pope Benedict XVI was not accorded the same treatment. With all due respect to Pope Francis, Pope Benedict is the superior writer and thinker. The local Church would have gained so much if only he was taken seriously.
But the past is the past, and the present points to the future. I thank God, sincerely, that Francis has revived something of the ultramontane spirit in the Australian Catholic Establishment. Ubi Petrus, ibi ecclesia.
Papal encyclicals are the second highest expression of the Supreme Magisterium, after Apostolic Constitutions. The pope’s new encyclical on environmental stewardship, Laudato si, is a very important document, which every Catholic should read — or at least heed. But it is not infallible.
I add that qualification because the secular press has reduced the whole document down to climate change. Behold Tony Jones, who is a paid beneficiary of the climate change industry when he’s not presenting himself as a “balanced” journalist:
It is true that Pope Francis decries climate change and rising sea levels. So did Pope Benedict. But these are not infallible statements. The spectre of anthropogenic climate change is a scientific question, not related to faith and morals, so the Church’s teaching authority does not come into play.
I, for one, am a “climate sceptic.” I’ve studied the science as deeply as a layman can study the science, and I’ve noted that the data-driven climate models which predicted extreme global warming have not been vindicated. Nothing in Laudato si convinces me otherwise, and nor should it.
The pope’s encyclical primarily addresses moral concerns, which every Catholic is obliged to heed and act on. But if you find yourself disagreeing with the pope — not to mention me! — on climate science or other such matters, rest easy. You’re no dissident; you’re simply exercising the intellectual autonomy by which we each glorify God.
Even in matters of faith and morals, Catholics are never called to blind and servile obedience. That’s the stuff of Christian fundamentalism and Islamism. Not that this gives us a license to “loyal dissent” either. On the contrary: Catholics are called to free and thoughtful assent.
[R]eligious submission of mind and will must be shown in a special way to the authentic magisterium of the Roman Pontiff, even when he is not speaking ex cathedra; that is, it must be shown in such a way that his supreme magisterium is acknowledged with reverence, the judgments made by him are sincerely adhered to, according to his manifest mind and will. His mind and will in the matter may be known either from the character of the documents, from his frequent repetition of the same doctrine, or from his manner of speaking.
Lumen Gentium, no. 25.
Read Laudato si. Discern what relates to faith and morals. Weigh up its arguments and pray on them too. Assent is a task of intellect and faith. Recall Peter’s words in John chapter 6, when so many disciples rejected our Lord’s Eucharistic teaching. The Twelve could not possibly fathom what it meant, to eat the flesh and drink the blood of Jesus. But they did not walk away. They responded with supernatural outlook:
“Lord, to whom should we go? You have the words of eternal life.” (Jn 6:68)
When The Family Guy‘s Seth MacFarlane was asked recently to comment on the Caitlyn Jenner story, he said he’s “too savvy to comment on the issue to the media.”
“Once the outrage industry shuts down, I will be happy to have an adult conversation about all of this stuff anytime anyone wants, but, even though I’m on the side of support, I just don’t think there’s any way to … you just got to play it safe because the climate is just too charged. Anything I say can and will be used against me.”
The outrage industry claimed another scalp in Fr John McKinnon, who in the middle of the Royal Commission hearings on clergy sex abuse in Ballarat, visited Bishop Ronald Mulkearns. The media had staked out the retired bishop’s house, for obvious reasons, and as he was leaving, Fr McKinnon gave a (car) door stop interview. It’s worth watching in full:
Not me. There’s a lot in this video I disagree with. Personally, I’d like to see Bishop Mulkearns take the stand at the Royal Commission. It’s not only that Bishop Mulkearns — and many other bishops in many other dioceses — moved offenders around. It’s also that they lied about it, even to the parents of those poor children. I would go so far as to say that in this interview, Fr McKinnon defends the indefensible.
But I’d also argue that Fr McKinnon speaks with such sincerity, and with such compassion, that he has nothing to apologise for. He was not defensive, and he was not shrill. On the contrary, he was self-effacing and thoughtful. Fr McKinnon did not persuade me through this interview, but he did give me insight into a different time, and different thinking. Far from silencing this sort of discourse, I think we need more of it. It’s the bread and butter of “adult conversation.”
The right to free speech entitles citizens to hear offensive speech. We are entitled to encounter dangerous ideas. These rights, unfortunately, are under seige — not only by present legislation, but also by our bizarre modern cult of “tolerance.”
Without free speech, it becomes impossible for anyone to speak the truth with love. Caritas in veritate is the duty of every Christian. I think this is what Fr McKinnon was at least attempting here. I’m not sorry Fr McKinnon spoke. I’m grateful.