Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Scattering Musings on Twentieth Century and Contemporary Catholicism

[I’ve been thinking a fair amount about Catholicism of late, reading a fair number of articles on the subject, but especially this past week since I’ve read both a Chesterton book, and a book long interview with Joseph Ratzinger, taken about ten years before he became Pope. These musings, ramblings more like, are mostly inspired by those two books. I apologize for the stream of consciousness quality; it wasn’t intentional, but necessary, as I’d rather post something to prompt discussion now, rather than wait, and probably never get around to editing these thoughts. All of the references and citations to the two Catholics belong to the two books cited at the end. I apologize, too, for the length of my senseless wanderings. I’d be shocked it some of this makes any sense whatsoever. Welcome to the life of my first drafts.]

The Catholic world, surprisingly, seems to be experiencing some sort of rejuvenation of late. Of course I likely imagine trends, rather than quantify them. Perhaps, though, I merely have paid more attention to the news of late, but it seems Catholicism, and articles on exclusively Catholic themes seem to be surfacing more often in the news. I hear, too, and from a large variety of sources that Orthodox, and even, I think, Catholic Churches, are growing as a result of current splintering in Protestant denominations as churches fight over such issues as the ordination of homosexuals. Increasingly liberal liberals distance themselves from continuingly conservative traditionalists. There’s little room for dialogue, it seems, in many Christian traditions, and people like myself (and it seems Brett) are increasingly attracted to the seeming, or at least claimed, universality of the Catholic Church. The Catholic Church is, well, catholic; Catholics across the world read the same missals, and celebrate the same rites. There is an incredible draw to this normality, or traditionalism, or whatever what opines to label it. That everyone partakes in the same tradition avoids the seeming pandemic of individualism I see in American Evangelicalism (and I know, again, that Brett and I have had numerous conversations over this subject). That Catholicism simply isn’t so focused on the self, on one’s own personal choice in worship, in devotionals, in marketing faith to our own particular Chicken Soup life-style seems somewhat refreshing. A little compromise, even in faith, cannot always be the worst of solutions.

The (formally) Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger emphasized this Catholic emphasis on liturgy, and on universality, on the transnational and intercommunity aspect of faith and Christianity. “We need…a new liturgical education, especially of priests. It must once again become clear that liturgical scholarship doesn’t exist in order to produce constantly new models, though that may be all right for the auto industry. It exists in order to introduce us into feast and celebration, to make man capable of the mystery. Here we ought to learn not just from the Eastern Church but from all the religions of the world, which all know that liturgy is something other than the invention of texts and rites, that it lives precisely from what is beyond manipulation. Young people have a very strong sense of this” (177). His mention of mystery reminds me, naturally, of that staggering Catholic genius of the early twentieth century, that G. K. Chesterton, of course, whom I have been reading again this week. The genius of Chesterton is a genius which upsets social norms and conventions; precisely by taking the mundane, and rendering it the most wild and unconventional of activities, and by magically reducing anarchy into an undesirable and boring normality, Chesterton turns logic on its head, and laughs in the process. For Chesterton, common sense is gone strangely awry, and the illogical has become strangely logical. Chesterton, like the Catholic Church, does not take tradition lightly, and in embracing the traditional, and the universal claims of the Church, one begins to attempt something truly radical. “The upshot of this modern attitude is really this: that men invent new ideals because they dare not attempt old ideals. They look forward with enthusiasm because they are afraid to look back” (What’s Wrong with the World). Or as Ratzinger echoes, “The Catholic Church also contributes something important to humanity in that she keeps these worlds together, different as they are, within a basic consensus and thereby also creates bridges from world to world” (130). The Catholic Church’s goal seems to be to unite, to bridge gaps, rather than permit fracturing. And I might add, on a pessimistic note, that Protestantism seems to be entirely based on nit-picking and fracturing; entirely new churches are formed for the slightest divergence of theological opinion; that’s a luxury and a liberty (and a vice) Catholicism cannot indulge.

The universal ideals of the Catholic Church do exist in confusion, and tension, Ratzinger does admit. “Uniformity and division exist in mutual dependence. Greater and greater outrage with one another develops paradoxically with more and more uniformity” (229). But as I saw it reading through the long interview Peter Seewald conducted with the Cardinal, the genius of his Catholicism was and is an ability to draw limits on one’s own personal ideas, and that of the church. Seewald constantly emphasized the Cardinal’s close relationship with the Pope, and frequently asked the German priest of conflicts between the two priests. Ratzinger made no secret that the two disagreed, but that his opinions were just that—opinions, and that he could not hope or dare to enact only his own ideas in the face of the Pope’s and of the Church’s. Part of faith and of Catholicism is simply submitting oneself and one’s own ideas to another. Faith, says Ratzinger, is to join a community larger than oneself, and thus, “To believe means that we become like angels, they say. We can fly, because we no longer weigh so heavily in our own estimation” (28), a statement, of course, reminiscent of Chesterton’s celebrated “Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly.” Thus Ratzinger does conclude that “If there is no willingness to subordinate oneself to a whole that one has recognized and to let oneself be taken into its service, then there can’t be any common freedom. Man’s freedom is always a shared freedom. It has to be borne together, and it therefore demands service” (79-80).

The genius of twentieth century Catholicism—and we see it in the Catholic novelists of the midcentury, too, François Mauriac, to an extent, and Georges Bernanos—is driving spirit to take the struggles, the trials, and confusion of life, and accept this complexity, attempt to frame life around the inexplicable sorrows and pains; something it seems Benedict is willing to do. It’s a willingness to take one’s concerns, one’s objections, and simply deal with them, or to recognize the greater issues of the Church. One’s own personal issues cannot always be the most important. The current Pope seems to me to be doing a convincing job of addressing the common Catholic citizen, at least in the very little I’ve followed of his papacy. Benedict XVI seems to be doing a substantial amount of convincing and important work from his papal see, though much of his work has been somewhat overshadowed by the sexual abuse scandals (but a recent, and criticized, study, seems to downplay the scandals http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2011/05/18/136429556/study-finds-homosexuality-celibacy-did-not-cause-catholic-sex-abuse-crisis). Of course, though, somewhat un-observed, Benedict has managed to accept—somewhat tacitly—the theory of macroevolution; and two years ago he welcomed defecting Anglicans into the Catholic fold. He’s brought John Paul II largely and significantly on his way into beatification. And apparently, just recently, he’s brought the Catholic Mass into a slightly new variation; a new translation of the Latin version of the mass will be introduced into parishes this Fall, one supposedly more accurate to the nuances of the original texts. Benedict, in many of these moves, seems to be attempting to bridge the gap between contemporary factions of the Catholic Church; his various actions can appeal equally often, if not always at the same time, to both liberal and conservative parties. He appears to want to engage theological issues of great importance at the same time as making small and important changes which the daily parishioners understand, see, and enjoy. This emphasizing of universality of the Catholic Church seems to be his stated goal and aim, even from long before his papacy.


And to me, this call, this charge to embrace a reality, a community larger than one’s own personal views on infant baptism or what-have-you is really the most compelling part of faith and of Catholicism. Really, Christianity isn’t so much about what the individuals think but about losing oneself so one can find a truer self, a self in a communion. And perhaps this is why so many people (rightly) call for the next Pope to be a non-European. The Church, particularly the Catholic Church is a global one; it crosses ethnic and continental borders. For the time being, though, under the leadership of Ratzinger, Catholics seems to be in something of a stable but interesting place. The Catholic Church will greatly change and evolve during his papacy, but his commitment to tradition and to the universal appeal of the Church should help it weather some difficult storms. I am reminded, again, that I really am after all very much of a Pope-ite.

J.W.


For lack of a better place, or lack of volition to find that better place which I know is sitting several paragraphs up, I should close with one final citation from Chesterton: “There is not really any courage at all in attacking hoary or antiquated things, any more than in offering to fight one’s grandmother. The really courageous man is he who defies tyrannies young as the morning and superstitions fresh as the first flowers. The only true free-thinker is he whose intellect is as much free from the future as from the past. He cares as little for what will be as for what has been; he cares only for what ought to be.”

-“Catholics Around the World Celebrate John Paul II” (http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=135884651; this one’s got some nice photographs)

-“Le nouveau pouvoir des cathos” (http://www.lexpress.fr/actualite/societe/religion/le-nouveau-pouvoir-des-cathos_984322.html)

-“Pope John Paul II beatified before massive crowd” (http://www.reuters.com/article/2011/05/01/us-pope-johnpaul-idUSTRE73Q2HT20110501)

-“Study finds Homosexuality, Celibacy Did not Cause Catholic Sex Abuse Crisis” (http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2011/05/18/136429556/study-finds-homosexuality-celibacy-did-not-cause-catholic-sex-abuse-crisis)

-Salt of the Earth, Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger in conversation with Peter Seewald

-What’s Wrong with the World, G. K. Chesterton

5 comments:

  1. That is really way too long.

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  2. This is great, Jared. It articulates a lot of the same thoughts I have been having for the last few years in various ways. But, as you mentioned, we talk about this stuff a lot.

    I do feel like what you are saying is pretty verifiably true, though, about the contemporary movement within Catholicism. I think it has to do with a number of factors that are wide in scope. For one thing, the most important philosophical work of the last few years was written by a Roman Catholic on secularism. Pretty fascinating. Who would have predicted that 30 years ago when French Post-Structuralism was blowing everyone’s minds? On the one hand, as far as the philosophy and theology goes, there is Radical Orthodoxy as well, which I think is also a way of saying that ultimately Derrida’s “religion without religion” is not enough. It “cannot still the tooth that nibbles at the soul.”

    Apropos to what you said about individual choices...my friend, Terry Eagleton:

    “Faith is a cleaving to what every you find yo cannot walk away from, however hard you try. What we find ourselves unable to relinquish even at the point of death, when it is ourselves that we relinquish, is definitive of who we are; and this is not on the whole something we can choose, like a hat or a hairstyle” (The Gatekeeper, 34).

    It is funny: through reading about six of his books I kept wondering if Terry Eagleton was actually a Christian. I don’t think he is much of one to say that he is or is not, which, of course, is the point. He defends the Christian faith, he was raised Catholic, he motivated by it, formed by it, etc. He doesn’t need to go around all the time saying exactly what he believes as if it were something easily to slip in an out. He doesn’t go in for all that personal stuff.

    Another important thing, of course, is advanced capitalism and especially how it interfaces with the National Security State. The Catholic Church has been the butt of seemingly endless ridicule over abuses of wealth and power. I won’t for a second deny that some of this ridicule is well-deserved. I don’t want to downplay those things. They are very real. However--and I really believe this--it is laughable to see anyone still harping on the the repressiveness and power-hungriness of the Catholic Church when it is precisely American Evangelicalism which continues to authorize endless wars and unfettered pursuit of self-interest. There is something about Catholicism that seems to make it uniquely impervious to the American Ideology, a reason why so many Americans mistrust Catholic politicians; it is evident that their faith is hostile to some staple American sacred cows in a way that it is not for your average Methodist or Baptist.

    More and more I realize how easy it is for any religious faith to get co-opted by an ideology that finds it useful. It seems to me that without thick textures of tradition, the co-opting is terrifyingly easy.

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  3. I suppose the question then becomes a question of how one's own personality ought to affect us, then, whether it be through our faith or through our academic studies. Regarding academics--à propos of your comment, Brett, on Terry Eagleton--one's intellectual framework--Christian, Marxist, feminist, atheistic, some-combination thereof--certain affects one's scholarship, so how does one navigate that narrow and turbulent channel of avoiding excessive personal anecdote and individualism, while still disclosing one's personal biases? In the interest of honesty, I admire when academics admit their philosophical assumptions to the best of their knowledge. But of course that often makes it easier to ignore an individual as well.

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  4. Yes, I agree. Of course, the interesting thing about Terry Eagleton is that while he does not go around calling himself a Christian Literary Theorist, he would definitely call himself a Marxist with no qualms whatsoever. So he does have commitments. This is actually something he writes about quite a bit, and, in fact, it is probably the most prevalent theme in his work. He would say that it is only through having commitments that we are ever able to come to the truth and even--this is the radical thing--to judge correctly and fairly. I just have to throw in this little paragraph from After Theory because I think it is great:

    "The opposite of intellectual authoritarianism is not skepticism, lukewarmness, or the conviction that truth always lies somewhere in the middle. It is a readiness to accept that you may cling to your basic principles quite as fervently as I do to mine. Indeed only by acknowledging this am I going to be able to worst those Neanderthal prejudices of yours. Tolerance and partisanship are not incompatible. It is not that the former always murmurs whereas the latter bawls. The opposite of tolerance is not passionate conviction. It is just that among the passionate convictions of the tolerant is the belief that others have for the most part as much right to their opinions as they have themselves. It does not follow from this that they hold their own opinions half-heartedly" (202).

    This all, by the way, is an important part of my paper on Inferno XXVI. Maybe I will edit it down a bit and post it on here.

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  5. Please do post your Inferno XXVI paper. I'm still quite curious.

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