A Blast From The Past

John Winthrop 

A fellow parishioner invited me to have dinner with him a week back.  I knew he was chair of the Economics Department at a major university and, as a historian, I had some questions I wanted to discuss with him about a project that I am working on concerning banking in 14^th century Siena and the creation of government debt.   My host however had invited two friends of his to dinner as well—all three had grown up in Cuba and came to the United States as boys.  They had been high-school friends and had each gone on to a career in academia.  One was a professor of Philosophy at a large Catholic University, the other a professor of Sociology at a University in Florida.  The conversation was intense—I told my friend later that I felt like I was sitting for my comprehensive exams all over again.  But the question that I brought to the table was: What are the roots of the divisions and polarization  that we are experiencing in contemporary America?

Professor X, (the economist) believes that the tension in our society is resultant on the sense of powerlessness that people experience as they find themselves slowly sliding down the economic ladder rather than, as had their parents, climbing up into greater prosperity.   As one person recently put it to me, “I have never made so much money and had so little.”  As parents are anxious not only for their own personal security but for the economic welfare of their children and grandchildren, there is a sense that economically at least, our glory days are behind us and our country is “going to hell.”  

Professor Y (the sociologist) gave the opinion that carried the conversation.  He believes that the increased ferocity of the “culture wars” is related to the collapse of such foundational institutions such as the family, the Church, the public school system, and the neighborhood—to name only a few. We really didn’t explore the economic issue sufficiently and hopefully we will in a future conversation because I think the increased economic disparity of our society should not be underestimated, but the sociological issue has perhaps more implications germane to the mission of the Church as it represents the collapse of community. 

When the Puritans coming to settle the Massachusetts Bay Colony were still aboard ship in 1630, their leader, John Winthrop, addressed them with the following sermon.  It is still something, perhaps today with the fracturing of our society, even more something, to consider. 

Now the only way to avoid this shipwreck and to provide for our posterity is to follow the counsel of Micah: to do justly; to love mercy; to walk humbly with our God. For this end we must be knit together in this work a one man: we must entertain each other in brotherly affection; we must be willing to abridge ourselves of our superfluities for the supply of others’ necessities; we must uphold a familiar commerce together in all meekness, gentleness, patience and liberality; we must delight in each other; make others’ conditions our own; rejoice together, mourn together, labor and suffer together; always having before our eyes our commission and community in the work, our community as members of the same body, so shall we keep the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace.  The Lord will be our God and delight to dwell among us, as his own people and will command a blessing upon us in all our ways so that we shall see much more of his wisdom, power, goodness, and truth than formerly we have been acquainted with.  We shall find that the God of Israel is among us, when ten of us shall be able to resist a thousand of our enemies, when he shall make us a praise and glory that men shall say of succeeding plantations: The Lord make it like that of New England. For we must consider that we shall be as a city upon a hill, the eyes of all people are upon us, so that if we shall deal falsely with our God in this work we shall be made a story and a byword through the world, we shall open the mouths of enemies to speak evil of the ways of God and all professors for God’s sake; we shall shame the faces of many of God’s worthy servants and cause their prayers to be turned into curses upon us till we be consumed out of the good land whither we are going. And to shut up this discourse with that exhortation of Modes that faithful servant of the Lord in his last farewell to Israel (Deut. 30): Beloved there is now set before us life and good, death and evil in that we are commanded this day to love our God and to love one another to walk in his ways and to keep his commandments and his ordinance and his laws and the Articles of our Covenant with him that we may live and be multiplied and that the Lord our God may bless us in the land whither we go to possess it.  But if our hearts shall turn away so that we will not obey but shall be seduced and worship other gods, our pleasures, and profits, and serve them it is propounded unto us this day, we shall surely perish out of the good land whither we pass over this vast sea to possess it. 

Therefore let us choose life

That we and our seed

May live by obeying his

Voice and cleaving to him

For he is our life and

Our prosperity

 Actually, when you read Winthrop’s sermon you can see the connection between the economic issues and the collapse of our cultural foundations.  We have lost the vision that we are mutually invested in one another and abandoned the principles of community for an individualism that permits the few to rise to towering heights of power and wealth while leaving the many to sense that their future is slipping through their hands. 

More than ever we need the voice of the Church to give the call to turn back to our commitment to a society in which all are mutually inter-dependent.  The economic philosophy of Pope John Paul II called for this sort of solidarity in which the interdependence of all was the foundation for society’s economy.  Only when we realize and take ownership of the idea that God intends for his gifts to be shared out among all his children in ways that provide for the welfare of each can we begin to build that sort of a world to which John Paul and John Winthrop and the Fathers of the Church and the Hebrew Prophets have called us—or rather made us aware that God is calling us. 

The John Paul Papacy: A Mixed Legacy

A statue in Gdansk, Poland, shows Pope John Paul
and President Ronald Reagan walking together as
joint architects of the collapse of the former Soviet
bloc.  

I mentioned in yesterday’s posting the “complex ambiguities of Pope John Paul’s papacy” and I want to clarify what I meant.  John Paul II was an extremely popular pope and in many circles his papacy is glossed over without careful examination as one of the brighter spots of the Church in the last century, but truth demands that a more critical look be taken and a more balanced appreciation be rendered. 

I was living in Rome in the final years of Pope John Paul’s papacy and was, in fact, in Saint Peter’s Square earlier in the afternoon of the day he died.  An interviewer from the BBC randomly picked me out of the crowd, knowing only that I was an English speaker, and asked to talk with me.  (When he found out that I am a professional historian and was a Romanista, I ended up being taken on by the BBC and several other networks as a commentator during the funeral of the Holy Father and the election and installation of Pope Benedict.)   The reporter asked me for my evaluation of the Holy Father’s reign and I answered by quoting Dickens: “It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.” 

It was the best of times in terms of John Pauls’ incredible ability to move world-wide audiences to be able to see possibilities for human betterment.   In particular it was the best of times because it marked the collapse of the Marxist ideology which had ensnared hundreds of millions of people in totalitarian regimes that could offer their citizens nothing worth having in this mundane sphere and no hope for the eternal sphere.  The remarkable events of his 1979, 1983, and 1987 visits to Poland chipped away at the first of the dominoes to fall.  John Paul’s battle cry was “Solidarity” by which he advanced the socio-economic-political idea—in contradistinction to both Marxist and capitalist ideologies—that members of society have a set of mutual responsibilities towards one another that require a collaboration in which those who have act to alleviate the distress of those who lack, not merely by relieving the needs but by creating just social structures that work to mutual benefit.  Such solidarity not only undermines the “class struggle” of Marxism but also the “income inequalities” of free market capitalism.  The Pope’s ideal of “Solidarity” was taken up by the Poles and became the battle cry to topple the Marxist regime there.  Unfortunately it has yet to be heard in the income-inequality nations of the West but Pope Francis is working to change that—much to Rush Limbaugh’s and Ken Lagone’s annoyance.  (You go, Francis.) 

It was no one less than Mikhail Gorbachev, the last Communist premier of the Soviet Union, who has said that Pope John Paul was the principal architect of the collapse of the Marxist dictatorships of the former Soviet Bloc.  But Pope John Paul is also credited with a significant role in bringing down the dictatorships in Paraguay, Haiti and Chile and there is no doubt that he was a major player in the arena of human rights in the second half of the twentieth century. 

John Paul was also remarkable in the strides the Catholic Church made in ecumenism during his pontificate.  His particular interest was with the Orthodox Churches of the East and while—and probably because of the Polish-Russian tensions arising from the stress being put on the Soviet Empire by John Paul in working for Polish autonomy—the Russian Orthodox Church was never brought into closer ties with Catholicism, John Paul made some remarkable progress with the other Churches of Orthodoxy.  More remarkable, however, was his subtle recognition of Anglicanism.  I remember seeing him come to the Holy Doors of the Pauline Basilica escorted on the one side by Metropolitan Athanasias of the Greek Orthodox Church and on the other by Archbishop George Carey of Canterbury.  Pope John Paul consistently treated the Archbishop of Canterbury on a par with the Orthodox.  While the Catholic Church still officially  has not recognized Anglican Orders, the protocols established by John Paul (and not later followed by Pope Benedict XVI) gave an implicit acceptance of Anglicanism.  A similar breakthrough came on October 5, 1991 when Pope John Paul celebrated Vespers with the Lutheran primates of Sweden and Finland and the Lutheran Bishop of Oslo.  All sat in copes and miters, the Bishop of Rome and his separated brother Bishops, in front of the papal altar in the Vatican Basilica.  Lex orandi, lex credendi:  liturgical praxis establishes the doctrine we hold in belief.  Without yet giving official recognition to the valid orders of these separated brethren, the Pope showed that we can begin to construct a path through the complex issues of restoring full unity to the Church.

In short, I think we can say that as far as “foreign policy” went, John Paul’s papacy was hugely successful.  As far as “domestic policy”: well, that is a different story. 

The internal governance of the Church in the papacy of John Paul II was a disaster.  While he was extremely popular personally, his teaching went unheeded by most Catholics.  During his funeral, while I was doing consulting for the BBC and other news outlets, I had the opportunity to speak with hundreds who had come to Rome (among the four million pilgrims who came to Rome for the funeral).  It was an overwhelmingly young audience—mostly in their twenties and thirties.  “Yes,” they assured me they “love this Pope.”  “He was a great Pope.”  “It is like losing a grandfather.”  “Do you agree with this Pope,” I asked “on homosexuality?”  “Do you follow his teaching on pre-marital sex?,” “On contraception?,” On marriage in the Church?”  The answer was overwhelmingly, “No—but we loved him.  We don’t agree with him, but we love him.” 

John Paul was without impact on the consciences of the vast majority of his followers—not only on contraception or same-sex relationships, but on the very issues where he found success in his program of smashing Marxism.   Westerners in general and Americans in particular cheered on his attacks on Marxism, but did they embrace his theory of “Solidarity?”  Nothing could be further from “Solidarity” than the Trickle Down Economics of the Reagan Presidency or the Thatcher Ministry.  To push his campaign against Communism to victory in the Soviet Bloc, John Paul formed a political alliance with the Reagan White House that compromised the papal integrity when it came to economic morality.  The symbiotic relationship of the Reagan administration and the John Paul Papacy resulted in the fact that the Catholic Church could hardly be believed in its call for economic justice.  The heritage of John XXIII and Mater et Magistra and Paul VI and Popolorum Progressio  was squandered and Catholicism became identified with the radical selfishness of Reaganomics. 

Furthermore, after the American Bishops’ pastoral letters on the nuclear arms race (The Challenge of Peace, 1983) and economic justice (Economic Justice for All, 1986) there was a very sharp change in the sort of men who were appointed to be bishops in the United States.  In 1984 the Reagan administration established formal diplomatic relations with the Holy See—something the Vatican had long sought but which had always met with much opposition in the United States from those non-Catholics who saw such relations as giving formal recognition to one religious body over others in violation of the American Constitution.  Such favors came at a price and that price was bishops who would not ruffle the political right.  The Social Justice wing of the Catholic Church in the United States was pushed more and more to the margins and the Jadot Bishops (those bishops appointed during the time Archbishop Jean Jadot was Apostolic Delegate, 1973-1980) who were the voice of “Vatican II” Catholicism melted into obscurity as the new breed of John Paul bishops replaced them.  The Church’s social activism –that is the Social Gospel—was more and more in the hands of brave and committed laity who felt cut-off from their own bishops who ignored the grave structural injustices in our society and “obsessed” (to use a current word) on select issues that reinforced the right-wing agenda and distracted the faithful from an integral approach to Christian moral life. 

John Paul paid a heavy price for selling out to the political right.  When he cried out against the Gulf Wars—I and II (1990-91 and 2003-2011), the American bishops did not echo the cry.  Far from it.  Editorials appeared in many Catholic diocesan newspapers on how these wars met the criterion for “just war.”  No, the focus remained on abortion and the rising “threat” of gay rights.  The fear was universal health care and the implications that would have for Catholic institutions.  Catholics were admonished for not falling in line behind their “shepherds” and a political agenda that was morally a very mixed bag.   “Cafeteria Catholics” were denounced for their selective agreement with Church policy, while those who accused them themselves were picky eaters at the magisterial table. 

In the end, John Paul left—as far as the American Church goes—a dispirited faithful who felt alienated from their bishops and caught in the crossfire of the culture wars that have been undermining the larger American society.  Is he John Paul the Great?  Only time will tell—this title has only been awarded to three popes so far, and it takes centuries before history grants it.  Will it do so for John Paul?  Hmm.   John Paul was an enigmatic Pope.  It was an ambiguous papacy.  It was the best of times and it was the worst of times.  

So, Is it John Paul the Great?

So is John Paul II “John Paul the Great.”  One sees him referred to as such at times—will the appellation stick?  There are only three popes known as “The Great” and two of them have the same name making it very difficult at times to figure out which one is being talked about.  You have Leo the Great.  And you have two Gregorys the Great, Gregory I and Gregory VII.  They both deserve the title though for different reasons.  Actually Wikipedia refers to Pope Nicholas I (reined 858-867) as "The Great" but I have never seen him called this in a history book.  The only distinguishing remarks about his papacy would be to say that he wasn't as bad as most popes of the ninth and tenth century so maybe he should be called Nicholas the Mediocre rather than Nicholas the Great.  But let me do some more research on him and maybe I can find some reason to let him join the very exclusive club to which the appelation "The Great" entitles you membership.        Leo the Great, (Leo I, reigned 440-461) is accorded the title for several reasons.  He defended Rome from Attila the Hun. The story goes that the Apostles Peter and Paul wielding swords appeared in the sky over the invader’s army throwing the Huns into panic.  In historical fact, Attila’s support lines were stretched, his troops decimated by plague, and he was afraid that further battle would make retreat back to his secure strongholds beyond the Dolomites impossible.  Who knows?  But Leo had another achievement and that was the "Letter of Leo" outlining the two natures (one divine, the other human) in the one Person of Christ.  "Peter has spoken through Leo" the Council bishops declared at Chalcedon!  His was a crucial papacy in establishing the claim for Rome to be the Apostolic See and arbiter of Christian orthodoxy. 
     Gregory I, also known as Gregory the Great (the first of two) reigned from 590-604 and is known for his patristic writings, most notably the Moralia in Job, probably one of the five most important books of the Christian Middle Ages.  He also sent Augustine and his band of merry monks (no, that was Robin Hood who had a band of merry men, sorry) his band of monks to Canterbury where they established a mission beachhead that was to evangelize the Anglo Saxon peoples of southern England.  And of course there was the chant—never catchy tunes, but hey, they’ve lasted.  Like Leo he is worth a blog entry of his own some day.             
     Gregory VII is also termed “Gregory the Great.” His papacy lasted form 1073 until 1085.    As we have seen in some blogs a great reformer of the Church, he struggled to eliminate simony and impose clerical celibacy.  More important he fought—and suffered greatly—to free the Church from the control of the Holy Roman Emperors.  The eleventh century Reform of the Church credited to him—the Gregorian Reform—was one of the most important epochs in the history of the Church.
     Now, as for John Paul.  It is complicated.  I remember when he died hearing a commentator on the BBC say, quoting Dickens—“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”  That about sums it up.
     As for the best, John Paul was the single most important player in the downfall of the Soviet Empire.  His election to the papacy energized his home nation of Poland and galvanized resistance to its puppet state that followed Moscow’s lead.  John Paul fanned the flames of nationalism, offering public support to the Solidarity movement challenging the hegemony of the Communist Party and demanding governmental reforms leading to democracy.   John Paul wrote extensive critiques of both Marxist-Leninist thought and Free Market Capitalism, offering an alternative to both in his socio-political-economic construct termed “Solidarity.” 
     John Paul, like his contemporary, American President Reagan, had an effective foreign policy but disastrously retrogressive domestic policies.  In terms of external relations of the Church with modern political and religious institutions he was a genius.  Not only did he hammer away at the Marxist-Leninist regimes of Eastern Europe, but he built very good relationships with other Christian Churches and with non-Christian religions.  In fact his ecumenical and inter-religious ties made many in the Church—including his number 2 key aide, Cardinal Ratzinger—very nervous.  Some thought he went way too far in his dialogues with those outside the Church.   Whatever one thinks from a doctrinal viewpoint, he certainly created an atmosphere of trust and open dialogue.  Unfortunately, while it contributed to a deepened cordiality,  it did little to actually resolve any of the neuralgic points and by the end of his reign the various Christian Churches remained as far apart from one another, at least as regards restoring the unity of Christendom, as ever.  He also had a tremendous popular appeal especially to younger people.  They didn't necessarily heed his message--especially regarding sexual and reproductive ethics--but they loved him nonetheless.  He should be seen more as a popular cult figure than a succesful shaper of moral values and doctrines. 
     As to the downside of the John Paul's papacy, within the Church, the fractures grew ever deeper.  John Paul seems to have not been very enthusiastic about many of the developments of the Second Vatican Council, particularly those that restored authority to the bishops that had been taken over by Rome since the Napoleonic reorganization of Europe at the beginning of the nineteenth century.  The brilliant leadership that had been appointed by Pius XII and guided the Church through the Council of John XXIII and Paul VI—men like Cardinals Bea, Alfrink, König, Lorschieder, Arns, Suenens—were to be seen no more.  His years in totalitarian Poland—where the Church under its Primate had to be as ruthlessly dictatorial as the State to prevail—imbued him with a fear of pluriformity  and bishops seem to have been chosen for their blind loyalty.  There were exceptions, of course, such as the Benedictine Cardinal Hume of Westminster or the Dominican Cardinal Schönborn of Vienna but overall there was certainly a dumbing down of the hierarchy.  Some intelligent minds such as Dulles or Congar were given red hats when they were too old to be of any danger, but overall the John Paul appointees were mediocre at best.  Nor did John Paul seem to know what to do about the fractures within the Church.  While he could be inflexible he also was overly anxious to hold the Church together even when groups who rejected the Second Vatican Council, its teachings, and its liturgy were acting in bad faith.  His decision to permit the revival of the pre-conciliar liturgy as an acceptable option has only served to polarize the Church even further as he seemed not to understand that the liturgy was not the key issue of the Lefebvre schism but rather the doctrinal thrust of the Council, particularly its stance on ecumenism, inter-religious dialogue, and freedom of conscience.  Under John Paul, prelates and priests who reject the Conciliar teachings found their ways into the higher reaches of the Curia Romana and have caused considerable confusion as the papal administration failed and continues to fail to speak with a consistent voice.  This is symptomatic of the problem that John Paul never got control of the Curia which took on a life of its own in his pontificate and has continued to be unmanageable in the reign of his successor.   
     Most detrimental to his historical position John Paul bought the Legionnaires of Christ hook, line, and sinker.  The financial scandals (we won’t mention the sexual scandals) by which the Legion founder, Marcial Maciel bought protection from papal Secretary of State, Cardinal Sodano,  and was able to maintain papal favor are just now coming to light but they threaten to undo the reputation of the late pope to the point of making his beatification a conundrum if not a scandal.   While Opus Dei has yet to be tainted with this sort of scandal, there were serious questions about the beatification and canonization of its founder, Monsignor Escriva, and whether or not his sainthood was “bought.”  Like the Legion, only more so, Opus Dei has a long reputation of freely scattering large sums of money around various Vatican Offices and while no sexual scandal has tainted the reputation of the founder, there were stories that Monsignor Escriva’s disillusionment with contemporary Catholicism was leading him to look beyond the Roman Communion for a spiritual  home for himself and his followers.  Those allegations have been neither proved nor disproved, but equally serious are the ties of Escriva to the Fascist Regime in Franco’s Spain and whether they should have been an impediment to formal sainthood.  If Opus Dei didn’t have the reputation of paying, and paying well, for everything on their agenda, the canonization would probably not be called into question but unfortunately their “generosity” has called the integrity of Vatican officials under John Paul into question.  And that brings up in particular the suspectibility of John Paul’s secretary, now Cardinal Archbishop of Krakow Dziwisz, to being bribed for access to the pope.  Frankly it is all  a mess.  “Blessed”—well, that is water over the dam and perhaps someday “Saint” as his personal integrity—if not his sagacity—seems to be above question.  But “The Great.”  No.  John Paul is not John Paul the Great nor will he ever be if history be taken seriously.