He drives them even
more krazy than theywere |
I want to go back to that
article in The New Republic by
Elizabeth Stoker Bruenig that explains why conservatives are reacting so
negatively to Pope Francis. Conservationism, Bruenig states, by the very virtue
of its name seeks “the conservation of some elements of the past.” She differentiates this from American
“neo-conservatism” which embraces the a sort of hybrid of Libertarianism and
Tea Party agenda with a “fixation on markets and freedom from nosy states while
simultaneously preferring a closer personal regulation of one’s behaviors.” There is a natural bridge between
conservatism and neo-conservatism. An
unregulated economy and a weak government preserve “traditional modes of living” in the
face of the progressive social agenda that undermines—in the thought of the
conservatives—the traditional social structures.
This can help us see why
Francis is so threatening. He has, to
date anyway, been far less outspoken about the injustices of the economic
structures of the developed world than have been predecessors John XXIII, Paul
VI, John Paul II, and even Benedict XVI, but his often returning to the theme
of income inequality heralds the possibility that after his upcoming encyclical
on the environment he may throw in his lot with existing papal magisterium that
decries the immorality of an unregulated economy. And, as I wrote in the previous entry, when
Francis talks about something he doesn’t let it stay in the realm of ideas as
his predecessors were often inclined, but brings it home in very concrete—and
challenging—applications.
What is threatening many on
the right, among those neo-conservatives who want free market economy but
“traditional” social values, is in addition to his rumbling about climate
issues and income inequality, his willingness to have the Church find room (I
hesitate to go so far as to say “embrace”) for new social structures. He has said that the Church should “not be
obsessed” with the abortion issue. He
has made it clear that gays are welcome in the Church and while he does not
favor same-sex marriage he has been very open to the legally equivalent “civil
unions.” He has made it clear that he
will not approve the ordination of women but neither he has issued the mandata of his predecessors that it not
be seriously discussed even among theologians.
Indeed, to the panic of the neo-conservatives he seems to have no fears
about open discussion of any topic.
Even more troubling to some
than his recognition that we are living in the 21st century and not
the 9th, has been the change in pontifical style. As Bruenig points out conservativism is more
an attitude than a specific agenda. It
isn’t the disdain for traditional pontifical accouterments such as the Santa
Claus cap, the Ruby-reds, and liturgical vesture that makes a pope look like a
cross between Queen Elizabeth and the Infant of Prague that has alienated many
conservative voices, it is what his style of being pope represents: a movement
away from hierarchy. Gone are the days
of the austerely monarchial Pius XII; now we have an ordinary guy in a white
robe with an occasional red clown-nose.
It gave us great pleasure to
have a pope like Pius XII. We could be
proud of the a triple-tiaraed aristocrat and bask in his reflected glory as he
is carried around like a Babylonian God on his shoulder-high pontifical throne
with ostrich plumed fans waving about.
What other religion had something like that??? C’mon, we were the best because nobody did it
like our Pope. And now, frankly it would
be embarrassing to some to see the guy with black shoes that could use a shine
and new heels, his black pants showing through the white cassock, and, yes,
that clown nose. I mean, What would Jesus say? Well, actually Jesus wasn’t terribly
impressed with the Temple priests of his day with their fancy robes and their
elegant life-style. I imagine that he
would be pretty happy with Francis, but again, that’s only what I imagine. I shouldn’t project my tastes onto
Jesus.
Well, let’s look at the
bigger picture. I don’t think it is Francis
who really gets under the skin of the neo-traditionalists. Not all conservatives, or even
neo-conservatives are neo-traditionalists but all neo-traditionalists are
neo-conservatives and some are genuine conservatives as well. (To iron out that sentence you need to get
out your old Logic 101 text, the implication being that one can be both a
conservative and a neo-conservative. But
I don’t want to get too far off track.) Let’s
go back to the article for awhile, shall we?
Philip Wallach and Justus Myers addressed a
question they felt had been neglected during the Republican Party’s previous
two presidential defeats: “What is conservatism?” Conservatism, they argued, is
more a disposition than a set of political goals, one for which
“social practices, habits, and institutions embody the accumulated wisdom of
trial-and-error experience.” This thinking detaches conservatism from the realm
of policy, and returns it to the core of conservative commitments, where they
believe it should be. At the center of the conservative disposition, Wallach
and Myers locate a belief that explains why conservatives “doubt the ability of
fallible people to overhaul [the] evolved social order according to their
vision of how it should be.” The conservative disposition springs from the
conviction that there is something transcendently meaningful about the past.
“Conservatism has the most to offer societies,” Wallach and Myers wrote, “that
have much worth conserving yet run the risk of dissipating their inheritance
through wrong-headed, sweeping changes.” What obtains today, in the
conservative mind, does so because it was found worthy in the past, and
humility should prevent us from meddling too much with received wisdom.
This treatment of the past unites religious
and political conservatives. Indeed, the Catholic Church has its own version of
the conflict between conservatism and progressivism that one finds in American
politics. Between 1962 and 1965, the Vatican held the Second Vatican Council at
Saint Peter’s Basilica in Rome. It was the twenty-first ecumenical council of
the Catholic Church, a meeting of Catholic leaders and theologians first
convened by Roman emperors in the early years of the Church, and now by Pope
John XXIII, to settle the place of the Catholic Church in the modern world. The
ramifications of Vatican II, as it is known, still command the contours of
contemporary Catholicism.
Vatican II addressed matters of liturgy: the
language used in Mass (vernacular versus Latin), ecclesiology, and the place of
Catholic teaching in the modern world. The intention of “modernizing” Catholic
expression and teaching, which was brought up in the most incremental terms,
was enough to alienate conservative Catholics. Church historian and professor
Massimo Faggioli pointed out in his 2012 book Vatican II: The Battle for
Meaning, that traditionalist Catholics “have grown much more vocal in
denouncing the council as synonymous with disaster and chaos in the Church.
Their negative view of the results of the liturgical reform could be applied
uniformly to all of the major developments of Vatican II (ecclesiology,
ecumenism, religious freedom, and the Church and the modern world) without
altering their level of outrage.” Faggioli also observes the connection between
“the main accusers of Vatican II as a ‘rupture’ with the tradition of the
Church,” and those who “questioned the very legitimacy of Vatican II as a
council in the tradition of the Church, its previous councils, and papal
magisterium.” Traditionalists were offended not only by the outcome of Vatican
II’s reforms, but by the idea of modernization itself, as though such a thing
could be truly avoided.
First of all, I have respect
for—and often am in agreement with—the sentiment that “social practices, habits, and institutions embody
the accumulated wisdom of trial-and-error experience.” And I agree that that there is something transcendently
meaningful about the past. I
am, after all, a historian, but I don’t believe that everything that is more
than fifty years old equates with received wisdom.
This is where there is a difference between Tradition and traditions—a
distinction which neo-traditionalist columnists, bloggers, clergy and others
seem totally incapable of making. The
red velvet and ermine cape some Popes used to wear (John Paul did not; Benedict
did) is a tradition, not a Tradition.
Same story for the red shoes, the triple tiara, and even the white
cassock. Same for where the Pope says Holy
Thursday Mass and whose feet he washes.
A lot of the traditions went
out at Vatican II, or as a result of Vatican II. Mass in Latin. Mass said ad
apsidem (facing the back wall of the church, sometimes referred to as “the
liturgical east” as opposed to “true east.”), religious women wearing faux
medieval garb, subdeacons, communion kneeling and/or “on the tongue,” women
wearing a hat or veil in church, black vestments for funerals, only men serving
on the altar, and other customs—some admittedly ancient—which gave us Catholics
familiar identity anchors but which are not part of the “deposit of faith”
which constitutes the authentic Tradition (capital T). There were some practices which fell into
disuse whose disappearance I personally think was unfortunate. While some of our devotional practices were
eccentric (at the least) or even theologically confusing (at the least), I
think a healthy devotional life, somewhat like a multi-vitamin—supplements the
liturgical/sacramental prayer that is at the heart of Catholic
Spirituality. I also have to deplore the
way far too many of us come dressed (or actually not dressed) for church; it is
just rude and sloppy to pay so little attention to one’s appearance for an
event that is of paramount importance.
But the essence of our Catholic faith remains—and my experience is that
with a lot of the fluff and frills stripped away, those essentials stand out
all the more clearly. But there are
those for whom being Catholic meant wearing a mantilla, or “hearing” Mass, or
having one’s nuns veiled in eight pounds of black serge and rigidly starched
linen. And they feel very threatened by
all that has happened in the fifty years since the Council closed. Under John Paul and Benedict they somehow
found a “hope” that the old might be restored and they could again have an
identity that clearly differentiated them from those Presbyterians next door
who have a cook-out on Friday evenings with beer and brats. Francis has dashed that hope. Francis has made it clear that “we” are not
going back. You can still go to your
Latin Mass and have shrimp scampi for Friday dinner, but as for the rest of us,
we are focusing on the issues of Mercy, Forgiveness, and subordinating our
lives to God’s Kingdom here and now.
This is threatening because it runs the risk of having to look
critically at things like income inequality, racism, commitment to peace in a
world of violence, rejection of the death penalty, care for the environment,
and other issues where the rubber of the Gospel hits the road of life in the 21st
century. It makes us realize that we
have to make a choice that no longer permits us to pledge allegiance to some
heavenly kingdom while continuing to enjoy the benefits of our belonging to
this earthly kingdom.
Some years ago during the Pontificate of John Paul II, World Youth Day was held in Rome in the middle of August, and a Mass was set up for all the participants (literally, millions) and they were grouped by continents. I believe it was the greeting when the Pope greeted Africa (cheers from one area), Asia (more cheers from another area), etc., and there was no more powerful way of demonstrating how truly global our Church is.
ReplyDeleteIf I'm not mistaken, Francis is the first non-European Pope. That is a break with tradition (but not with Tradition, I would argue), and he brings a much more global world view to the office. Previous Popes could intellectually say we are a global Church, but Francis has real experience in the global Church, and I would argue that many of his comments reflect that experience and that afflicts some whose Eurocentric vision is regarded as Tradition. And on top of that, he's a Jesuit...
Whatever one might say of a critical nature about historic Christianity -- Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican, mainline Protestant -- it could never compare to these self-appointed start-ups. So-called "independent Christianity" has very little ecclesial depth and betrays what happens when "churches" are not moored in a tradition of oversight and accountability. As I always ask those who belong to such groups, show me anybody in the New Testament who did not receive a commission from someone else, including Paul, who eventually knew he had to go to Jerusalem and seek the approval of those who were apostles before him, lest his preaching be in vain. There is no such thing as independent, "non-denominational" Christianity. I can only hope that, as history proves, there is no real future for such sectarian and self-authorized poseurs. Their political ambitions and alliances in this country only serve to prove my point that they are wolves in sheep's clothing. They suffer in general from the well-known personality disorder associated with right-wing authoritarianism and in trying to establish their fantasies of a theocracy built on biblical literalism in this country they are only a few steps removed from their ISIS counterparts.
ReplyDeleteI may be wrong, but I suspect you are responding to the subsequent posts on the so-called evangelicals, but i do thank you for your comments and substantially agree with you. It shows what happens when people lose their anchoring in both history and sound theology. Christianity is not something that one can "make it up as you go along."
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