Recently a reader at my blog asked me what it would take for me to call “heresy” on someone else. Apparently, to refuse to lightly j’accuse is to be continually vomited out of Jesus’ mouth in a lukewarm stream, but I may find redemption if only I will carp endlessly about how the world is ending and the Church is dying, and lay the fault for it at the feet of the bishops and possibly of me, myself.
Hyperventilation seems incongruous, to me, with all we know about our Church. It is not the way of the saints. Our early fathers and mothers preached and suffered but they did not fret, and where they engaged in criticism they always saved some for themselves.
Where the great reformers saw problems they worked hard to correct them with a detachment that communicated humility. Most of them, by the way, had folks in their retinues who struggled with faith. I am reading Sigrid Undset’s excellent Catherine of Siena, and am struck by how generously she dealt with those who wished to follow her example but would get distracted and wander off for a little while. One such “son” in particular did this several times, and Catherine never condemned him—always welcoming his return, accepting his contrition and shooing him off to confession before putting him back to work. She seemed very content to pray for him and trust God to bring him about in God’s good time, which is indeed what happened.
It’s hard sometimes to trust God’s timepiece when ours is so much more accessible (and makes everything seem so urgent). The Church is not dying, because she cannot die. But the worry is easy to understand. We see the empty seminaries of the West and sink into such a gloom that the record numbers of seminarians in the East and Africa seem not to count; we take no solace in reading that there are more priests in formation in the 21st century than in our 1961 heyday. Our first-world conceit insists that we are the superior missionaries to the rest of the world, and it cannot square with the reality that the West has become a mission frontier.
Perhaps it is because so many Catholics currently seem to be wandering that some are panicking and reaching for their cutlasses. Certainly the Church does seem to be in a prolonged season of penance, wrought by both her tragic inattention to clerical abuses and the sinfully inadequate catechesis of the last forty years. That a couple of generations of “You are special; Mass is special; God is special” CCD classes (which offered nothing to counter a deadly cultural obsession with esteem-building) has produced millions of Catholics who have no idea what makes the Church more “special” than anything else, really should not surprise.
It is a near certainty that the Church will get smaller, down the road—our good pope has said as much:
“The Church,” he said as Joseph Ratzinger, “will become small, and will to a great extent have to start over again. But after a time of testing, an internalized and simplified Church will radiate great power and influence; for the population of an entirely planned and controlled world are going to be inexpressibly lonely . . . and they will then discover the little community of believers as something quite new. As a hope that is there for them, as the answer they have secretly always been asking for.”
Call it Adult Catechesis.
Perhaps sometime in the not-too-distant future, as governments move against her, the Church will be forced into poverty and become subject to the oppression of her earlier days. We may even see martyrs in the Western Church, once more.
But that, of course, is when the Church will triumph. Even if we lose every material aspect—our buildings, the great art vouchsafed to us—the Church will triumph, because it is greater than any structure, innovation, or physicality, which (no matter how meaningful) is nothing at all compared to Christ. This is something a materially fixated world cannot understand: to silence a voice is not to stop prayer; to close a parish is not to end it. The Church is built by the author of Life, and is itself alive with that Divinity. Life will always find a way, which is why man is constantly trying to keep it at bay—another conceit.
This is not the first time, or even the fifth, that the Church has seemed weakened or needful, or that worldliness has seemed to be eclipsing it, but there is no end to the Church. The nation may tumble; nations always do, in the end, when America tumbles, the Roman Catholic Church may very well see itself superseded by a government-friendly “American Catholic Church” that marginalizes the Roman church and even sends it underground.
What a privilege it will be, then, to have to give up our comfortable notions of what “real” Catholicism is, and what “real” Church is, in order to keep the Mass, and the Holy Eucharist in our midst. Stripped to our essentials, we may actually rediscover the unity that is currently so elusive among us.
Elizabeth Scalia is the Managing Editor of the Catholic Portal at Patheos and blogs as The Anchoress. Her previous articles for "On the Square" can be found here.
RESOURCES
Calling Heresy
Seminary Heydays and Western Missions
Ratzinger: God and the World
Ireland Seeks to Break Confession Seal
Become a fan of First Things on Facebook, subscribe to First Things via RSS, and follow First Things on Twitter.
Comments:
If the Church in America should ever decide to do some evangelization, I suggest that these lapsed Catholics might make an excellent group to target. I've managed to coax a few back into the pews, but I admit, it was not easy. Likewise, the Archdiocese of Boston (where I am) executed a large "Catholics Come Home" campaign during Lent with little success. I'm not sure what the answer is.
Kind of a disgusting image.
I'm a liberal, and I don't hate you. (I don't hate anybody.) So, the only logical conclusion is that you are doing something terribly wrong. You may be due for a little soud-searching!
"Hate" is probably the wrong word. "Have no respect for" is closer to what I mean. You don't meet many pro-choice pro-gay-marriage pro-big-government Christians (the modern definition of liberal, in the mold of Biden or Pelosi) that have any real respect for the Magisterium of the Catholic Church. If they did, they wouldn't believe what they believe. Their actions speak louder than any praise they have for their Church.
Out here in the blogosphere it seems that people are willing to argue with no holds barred - and without any concern for a continuing relationship with those whom they disagree. In the real world we rarely can indulge in such unrestrained tantrums - we do actually have to "play well with others" if we hope to continue in a relationship with those we don't completely agree with. The hazard in the real world is accommodation to the point of uselessness - as a parish worker I sometimes wonder at what point would I lay it out for a co-worker or a colleague on some diocesan project (with no holds barred)
As a parish worker in Los Angeles I am well aware that the moment I get sucked into controversy or polemic, my ability to influence or to lead will be greatly diminished if not ended. I don't flatter myself that my influence is so very wide but I hope to make a contribution to the body of Christ.
letters of the Apostles to the divisive battles between Alexandria and Rome over the seat of Christianity , the Patriarchs vs. the Pope and central authority, and Benedict who left Rome to get away from the decadence and combined Eastern and Western monasticism. In the tenth century you had to become a monk or a hermit to survive unless you born to a wealthy family who coud buy you a high office in the church. And lets not forget "Francis, rebuild my church," or the suppressions in France and Italy and England. The Church survived and flourished and God always seemed to raise up certain Saints and lets also remember that
the laity played a big part in bringing the Church back to it`s roots. Particularly
during the middle ages which is where third orders such as the Humiliatis who, fed up with clergy formed one of the first third orders that we know of. The Lord said "Upon this rock I will build my church and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it." This might be a good time to be a hermit.
Pax
Thank you for your words, Elizabeth. I agree with Papa Ben that the Catholic Church of the future will be smaller and dynamic. We can already see this in our own parishes where so few find the time to adore our Lord or pray the Liturgy of the Hours or attend daily Mass or frequent the Sacrament of Reconcilation.
In a world of instant knowledge and communication, so few know Him or communicate with Him.
Your points are well made, and very prophetic.
We must be prepared to be martyrs....not so much shedding blood, but shedding our egos. Humility is a tough row to hoe, but it will be our salvation, just as Christ showed us in His earthly humiliation.
Once married husbands and fathers can be priests, two other things can happen: priests can support themselves and their families through secular employment, and the limits this places on their time individually can be made up through broader ordination of married Catholic men. The Catholic church will thus be equipped to survive flexibly in small groups, with shifting populations, even without cathedrals, much as the original Christian churches met in homes. Indeed, there is nothing in the New Testament that indicates the existence of professional clergy, apart from, perhaps, the apostles.
If the Catholic Church is going to be reduced by circumstances down to its essentials, without many of the physical and institutional aspects of its current state, perhaps it will be time to reconsider whether an unmarried priesthood is a core of Catholic doctrine, or a luxury that can be legitimately abandoned in favor of making the Church more robust and survivable and able to carry on its real core mission, which is not to create celibate priests, but to save both men, women and children.
I have personally thought that it was ironic that the men who are most devoted to your church's doctrines and mission are prevented from having their own children, to whom they can pass on their convictions. While it is true that priests seek to replicate their own devotion and faithfulness through their vocations, in teaching other men's sons and daughters, I wonder if the dichotomy between priest and layman is contributing to the lack of personal commitment among many Catholic lay persons that is spinning them out of the church altogether. If service as a priest is something that can be attained by any good Catholic man with a family, even as he pursues a secular profession in law, medicine, business, education and even the military, Catholic men in general will be strengthened in their devotion and understand the righteousness of themselves and their families as part of their service as priests.
Just a suggestion, but it is something that works for a number of other churches, including the Latter-day Saints, who have the best record in the US of passing on their religious devotion to their adolescent children.
Any serious Catholic who pays attention to ecclesiastical affairs (and God bless those many serious Catholics who spare themselves the trouble and just live their lives faithfully) can't not notice the problems, infidelities, and divisions we face as a Church. That's a given. The first, superficial reaction to this is angst, fretting, and -- because this is human nature -- judgmentalism and indignation toward those Catholics who aren't so serious about their faith, or are downright hostile to their one-time community. Unfortunately, the Internet is a breeding ground for all kinds of negative emotions, including the above. But there is a deeper, more spiritual reaction that some of us are rising toward -- that of a St. Catherine, as you explain. This reaction of true love, compassion, and mental peace in the midst of infidelity and sin is what we really need. And the saints prove that it is possible. But we can't let ourselves be dragged down into the muck.
It seems to me that priests don't address these issues enough. I don't know if that's a fault of theirs or because I myself am overly concerned with ecclesiastical matters, especially as communicated online. Perhaps the number of serious Catholics who really don't pay attention to this stuff is sufficiently great to justify priests not speaking about it too much. Still, I think if priests were more careful about it, they might be able to do something to help faithful Catholics avoid that first reaction, that stinking, filthy, disgusting vitriol that poisons too many Catholic Web sites and forums.



Much later, I was introduced to a missionary at a Prebyterian church in California that I frequented. I mentioned my experience in Africa to him, and commented that I felt I had learned more there than I had ever been able to teach. The missionary, a dignified man with very shiny black shoes and a King James Bible in his hand, drew back visibly and eyed me with some suspicion. I plunged heroically on and said, "Actually, I attended some churches there that are now sending missionaries to America since they consider us to be a mission field." The poor man's mouth fell open, and he turned abruptly, speechless, and stalked off. It was simply too much for him! Happily, I have more recently met American missionaries who commiserated perfectly with my African experiences.