In the meantime, I take the point on your examples, though I wouldn’t have added Ambrose’s shameful defense of the destruction of synagogues as a moment of brave leadership.

There never was a golden age, true, for bishops are men, and men are sinners. Nonetheless, we have the examples of St. Ambrose staring down the Emperor Theodosius the Great; of St. John Chrysostom chastising the Emperor Honorius to his face, before the multitude assembled in Hagia Sophia (and was sent into exile as a result); of St. Filip of Moscow who refused communion to Ivan the Terrible (and was tortured to death for his trouble), and many others over many centuries who bore witness to the faith and took their duties as overseers and guardians of the Chalice seriously.

Perhaps I have just been spoiled by my exposure to Orthodox bishops, who think nothing of turning away people from communion for a host of reasons, many of which might seem trivial to outsiders. This has caused me to consider partaking of the Eucharist as a unique privilege and not as some inherent right.

But we live in the age when the Chevy Volt is called both transportation and an automobile, when it is manifestly neither.

“I really never gave much of a hoot what people think about me. If there is an argument to be made, lay it out straight.”

You are self-deceived. When you mock, distort, and disrespect your interlocutor, you fail to lay out the argument straight. You distort it. There’s a recognizable type of person who claims he’s just honest and telling it like it is when in fact he’s pushing the conversation in front of a fun-house mirror.

And in fact, you do care deeply about what others think about you. You want to parade your knowledge and your wit. The problem is that you don’t think about others. You aren’t interested in them in and for themselves. It’s a failure of moral imagination. You can be strong minded without being belligerent, but doing so requires that you believe in your heart that the person you’re talking to is as interesting and valuable as you are. And you don’t. Not really. Or at least not yet.

“If you want an area where Church leadership can make a difference, this is it. Bishops who permit prominent political, social and artistic leaders to receive communion despite open and unrepentant violation of Church teachings. This action sends a far more effective message than all the homilies about the evils of abortion, adultery, or fornication ever could, because it says in the most explicit way possible, “pay no attention to what we say; actions have no consequences”.”

If the church had broad power, this might work, but bishops who refuse communion have come off as judgmental and out of touch. Mike Huckabee’s denunciation of Natalie Portman came off as a political ploy, which it was. When the church has faced declining membership before, it’s been revivals that have reinvigorated the day —whether it’s St. Francis or John Wesley or one of our Great Awakenings. Revivals can’t be manufactured, but they can be prepared for.

“but most are too afraid of being “controversial” or being seen as “partisan”, or just fear not being invited to the best parties to exercise the charism of stewardship over their flock”

And that’s the scandalous truth, though, as for that, there’s never been a golden age when bishops weren’t afraid of being controversial, partisan, or losing their seat at the political table.

You wrote:

“If you want an area where Church leadership can make a difference, this is it. Bishops who permit prominent political, social and artistic leaders to receive communion despite open and unrepentant violation of Church teachings. This action sends a far more effective message than all the homilies about the evils of abortion, adultery, or fornication ever could, because it says in the most explicit way possible, ‘pay no attention to what we say; actions have no consequences’.”

On the scandalous nature of giving such people communion we are in violent agreement. ;o)

Attitudes towards homosexual fornication and same-sex “marriage” have changed dramatically, especially among those whose only religious education since becoming adults is whatever they get through the Sunday homily. There are very many such people. For many of them homosexual fornication and same-sex “marriage” now have a legitimacy that they didn’t have before.

In those cases where the personal views of such people haven’t changed, it can still be that they have become reluctant to express disapproval of such things to others. The views of some of these “others” it is their personal responsibility to form, as in their own children. It would be much easier for them to do that correctly if they could at least remind their teenagers of their parish priest’s crystal clear condemnation of such things from the pulpit. Had that happened, the parents’ job might have been only one of reinforcing what the child had already heard at Church, not one of convincing the child, based entirely on their credibility with the child, that such behavior was indeed a matter of grave immorality. This is the situation Dad or Mom is in if Father has never explicitly mentioned the topic. As we all know, parents can become the most completely out-of-touch-with-what-is-cool people the child knows during his or her teenage years. The teenager is left thinking, “If these things were as bad as Mom and Dad say they are, Father would have at least mentioned it.”

Even if it wasn’t always true, it is true today that homiletics must include catechesis.

IMO there is a huge difference between recognizing a gay couple as a couple vs. the crossing-over act of pretending their union is the same in kind as a real marriage.

It’s the difference between calling a hot air balloon “transportation” vs. insisting it be called an “automobile”.

I really never gave much of a hoot what people think about me. If there is an argument to be made, lay it out straight. I’m a big boy, and can take it, and I assume most of my interlocutors are, too. Besides, I am a paragon of politeness as compared to someone like Cyril of Alexandria (not my favorite saint by any means). On the other hand, I will never, ever be “crunchy”. Sorry.

Now, it strikes me that you are far too pessimistic about our society, but then, I’m an historian who takes the opening lines of Peter Pan seriously: “This has happened before and it will all happen again”. I don’t pine for the golden age, because there never was one, and people tend to be just about as sinful in any given age. But there is a built in audience for “O tempora, O mores” lamentations, and people milk it for all they have.

One kind of tactic I abhor is the elevation of outliers to the norm: what you see on “Jersey Shore” does not reflect the way most people live, and the bed-hopping of “I am Charlotte Simmons” does not reflect the lives of most college students (to be honest, I think there was a lot more promiscuity in my days at Georgetown University than there is today).

A second is the invidious comparison–that is, comparing the pristine ideal of something against the grubby reality of something else, whether it is a particular time, or culture or Church. Just saying.

My own preference in homiletics is to hew closely to the texts, and to stress the message of living and growing in holiness, of which sexual morality is but one aspect. We are whole persons, not aggregations of our parts. Besides, it tends to distort the meaning and purpose of the texts if we subvert them to our own interests.

Take, for example, the periscope on the Samaritan Woman. Here is a woman who says she has no husband, and Christ says, “You are right–you have had five, and the man with whom you are living now is not your husband”. No doubt, a homilist could turn this into a discussion of the indissoluability of marriage and the evils of adultery and fornication. But is that really what the passage is about? Or is it rather about the woman’s encounter with Christ, her recognition of Him as the Messiah, and the metanoia that she and the people of her village undergo as a result of this epiphany?

Metropolitan Kallistos like to tell a story about the eminent British historian Macauley, who disliked the long sermons the vicar would give. He came home one Sunday to complain to his aged mother, saying, “If I had my way, my only sermon would be, ‘Good people, you know what you are supposed to do. Now do it’”.

Basically, that’s the position we are in today. The people in the pews (assuming we’re not standing) know full well that fornication, adultery and sodomy are wrong. They aren’t going to change their behavior because the priest harangues them about it. This doesn’t work–and it has never worked, unless you think that promiscuity, fornication and adultery were less common in the past than they are today.

The principal difference between today and the past is the Revolt of the Elites (to steal the title of Christopher Lasch’s excellent book). In the past, society’s leaders may have had the morals of stoats, but they understood that maintaining social order necessitated a certain degree of discretion and hypocrisy, lest the lower classes develop degenerate habits. So, yes, they slept around, they winked at the homosexuality of their peers, but they maintained appearances. Today, our elites worship the idol of “authenticity”, so they flaunt their transgressions, which are taken up by those who look to the elites to lead and set trends.

If you want to see an example of how much influence leadership at the top can have, look at how Victoria and Albert reformed the (outward) behavior of the British aristocracy by their control of patronage and access to court–though even then, Victorian London had upwards of 50,000 prostitutes, and more brothels than churches.

If you want an area where Church leadership can make a difference, this is it. Bishops who permit prominent political, social and artistic leaders to receive communion despite open and unrepentant violation of Church teachings. This action sends a far more effective message than all the homilies about the evils of abortion, adultery, or fornication ever could, because it says in the most explicit way possible, “pay no attention to what we say; actions have no consequences”.

A handful of bishops have taken the bull by the horns and announced that certain persons guilty of certain actions or holding certain erroneous beliefs will not be admitted to the Chalice, but most are too afraid of being “controversial” or being seen as “partisan”, or just fear not being invited to the best parties to exercise the charism of stewardship over their flock (I include both Catholic and Orthodox bishops in this condemnation). But I assure you, if there was a consistent and united front, a few salutary examples would make more of an impression than a year’s worth of homilies.

I don’t want priests to give homilies unsuitable for young ears, but there are ways to speak about these things that will be understood by mature ears. If priests aren’t talking about these things (hetero or homo) from the pulpit, they shouldn’t be surprised when polls show that their congregations hold opinions congruent with the American mainstream, but counter to Christian truth. The only place many Americans are ever going to hear a message counter to the libertine one transmitted by the media is Sunday morning. A homilist can hardly hope to compete with the media, but he has to try, and hope to at least plant seeds of doubt and contemplation in the consciences of those in his congregation with ears to hear. I think most of them are just scared to do this. They might be surprised, though, how much support they would get from their most faithful parishioners.

Anyway, Stuart, I have held back on posting because I do not intend to have an exchange with you if you cannot carry it out with mutual respect. I’ve noticed that you have a habit of insulting your interlocutors, and when called on it, take the position that you are just fearlessly speaking the truth. I would guess that you and I agree on most things, but when we disagree, I expect that you will challenge me with the same respect you have a right to expect from me.