For more than thirty years it’s been my privilege to explore the Catholic Church in all its extraordinary variety and diversity. I’ve traveled from inner-city parishes to the corridors of the Vatican; from the barrios of Bogotá to the streets of Dublin; across the United States and throughout Europe, Latin America, Oceania, and the Holy Land. I’ve spoken to Catholics of all states of life and stations in life, from popes and heads of state to cloistered nuns and campus ministers and literally thousands of clergy; with political activists of all stripes and the wonderful people of the parish in which I’ve lived for almost three decades; with modern Catholic confessors and martyrs and with men and women who are troubled in their faith.
The experience has been exhilarating, sometimes exasperating, occasionally depressing; I’ve been immeasurably enriched by all of it, in ways I can never adequately repay. But I’ve tried to make a small down payment on a large debt with the publication of Evangelical Catholicism: Deep Reform in the 21st-Century Church. In the book, I’ve tried to focus what I’ve learned in more than thirty years of Catholic thinking, writing, and activism through two prisms: a new interpretation of modern Catholic history linked to a fresh proposal for how we should understand the Catholic possibility in the third millennium, and a detailed program of Gospel-centered reform that will equip the Church for its evangelical responsibilities in a time of great challenge.
The challenge can be defined simply: Throughout the Western world, the culture no longer carries the faith, because the culture has become increasingly hostile to the faith. Catholicism can no longer be absorbed by osmosis from the environment, for the environment has become toxic. So we can no longer sit back and assume that decent lives lived in conformity with the prevailing cultural norms will somehow convey the faith to our children and grandchildren and invite others to consider entering the Church.
No, in our new situation, Catholicism has to be proposed, and Catholicism has to be lived in radical fidelity to Christ and the Gospel. Recreational Catholicism—Catholicism as a traditional, leisure-time activity absorbing perhaps ninety minutes of one’s time on a weekend—is over. Full-time Catholicism—a Catholicism that, as the Second Vatican Council taught, infuses all of life and calls everyone in the Church to holiness and mission—is the only possible Catholicism in the twenty-first century.
The Evangelical Catholicism of the future is a Catholicism of radical conversion, deep fidelity, joyful discipleship, and courageous evangelism. Evangelical Catholics put friendship with the Lord Jesus at the center of everything: personal identity, relationships, activity. Evangelical Catholics strive for fidelity despite the wounds of sin, and do so through a daily encounter with the Word of God in the Bible and a regular embrace of Christ through a frequent reception of the sacraments. Evangelical Catholics experience dry seasons and dark nights, like everyone else; but they live through those experiences by finding their meaning in a deeper conformity to the Cross of Christ—on the far side of which is the unmatchable joy of Easter, the experience of which gives the people of the Church the courage to be Catholic. And evangelical Catholics measure the quality of their discipleship by whether, and to what extent, they give to others what they have been given: by the degree to which they deepen others’ friendship with the Lord Jesus Christ, or bring others to meet the unique savior of the world.
Evangelical Catholics enter mission territory every day, leading lives of integrity and charity that invite from others the question, “How can you live this way?” That question, in turn, allows the evangelical Catholic to fulfill the Great Commission by offering others the Gospel and the possibility of friendship with Jesus Christ. Having responded to the Risen Lord’s call to meet him in Galilee, evangelical Catholics go into the world in witness to the Christ who reveals both the face of the Merciful Father and the truth about our humanity.
Strong truths generously lived: that’s Evangelical Catholicism.
George Weigel is Distinguished Senior Fellow of the Ethics and Public Policy Center in Washington, D.C. His previous “On the Square” articles can be found here.
Become a fan of First Things on Facebook, subscribe to First Things via RSS, and follow First Things on Twitter.
Comments:
Item: After every football game at my sons' public high school, the team stands in a circle, holding hands, while the coach leads them in Christian prayer.
Item: I heard a radio broadcast today of my Governor addressing the state legislature. The event was kicked off with a lengthy prayer by the house chaplain, who concluded "...in Jesus' name we pray." (Try finding a similar example in any European parliament. In Rome, you'd have to leave the Chamber of Deputies and take a bus over to the Vatican to find anything comparable!)
Item: In the recent Republican primary skirmishes, every candidate made a point of announcing his Christian faith, whether Protestant, Catholic, or Mormon. Even Obama has felt obliged to publically state his faith in Jesus as his Savior.
What permeates American society today is not so much an atmosphere of hostility to religion as an atmosphere of extreme tolerance. Strangely, it is excessive tolerance that may anesthetize our Christian witness more than persecution. When did Christianity make its most explosive progress and witness its most heroic parade of martyrs? During the late Roman epoch, of course—during a time of persecution. If we are to be inspired to heroic evangelical witness, then we might actually find greater inspiration in a genuinely hostile culture. And I'm not referring to Christian business owners who are obliged to provide medical plans to their employees that include contraception. That is a pitiful substitute seized on by people who are desperate for persecution, but can't find the real thing. I'm talking about priest, nuns, and ministers of the Gospel being hidden in secret compartments behind cleverly constructed false walls while the secret police scour the building, and the heroic residents are lined against a wall, knowing that if the hiding place is discovered, they, too, will be sent to the extermination camps. THAT would be an enemy worthy of Mr. Weigel's eloquent call to battle. I once heard a woman describe herself in exactly that same situation at my mom's church. She was Corrie Ten Boom, and, of course, the "priests" were actually Jews. I can't help wondering if her level of heroism is even possible in our tolerant culture.
In my own local sphere I have seen an amazingly encouraging change in the past few years. The number of participants in the West Coast Walk for Life has increased ten-fold. Catholic radio has spread dramatically. Conservative archbishops are being appointed. There is a revival in liturgical music. Etc. However, the beneficiaries of this, those who appreciate the changes, seem to be limited to a subset of Catholics. My sense is that these are people who have managed to avoid being drawn deeply into the culture, where degeneracy has been defined down to the point where parents with any sense of responsibility can't even in let their kids watch the Superbowl. Nor any TV. Nor listen to pop music. Etc . . . I find I begin to empathize with the Amish. Not a good sign.
You also make some perfectly good points. Yes, our popular culture is banal. But I grew up in the forties and fifties, and there were just as many shallow people then who did not seek the deeper things of the spirit. There was no shortage of alcoholism, child abuse, and divorce. In fact, divorce rates have been dropping the last few decades in America. My family watches t-v because its all in using your discernment and choosing things of value: PBS science documentaries, serious news, BBC dramas ("Dowton Abbey" is a favorite of ours), and so forth. Let the banal and shallow choose the banal and shallow.
Concerning birth control, I have mixed feelings. I'm Protestant enough to consider some uses valid. We have an Amish-Mennonite community in our area, and I've discovered that their women are allowed to use it. They still have good-sized families. But the obvious overuse of birth control is intimately connected with plummeting fertility rates worldwide, and that is tantamount to collective suicide. It will only be a couple of generations more before societies begin to collapse economically when elderly, retired people outnumber young, working people. What will they do? Introduce mandatory euthanasia for the elderly?
Modern methods of Natural Family Planning (NFP) are highly effective methods of family planning (over 99% effective per woman-year at preventing pregnancy) that respect married sexuality and, more importantly, respect the woman's body. Catholics believe that the body is good and sex is good, therefore, suppressing fertility with artificial hormones and placing contraceptive barriers between the couple is contrary to God's plan.
Nevertheless, I am Protestant enough to realize that not every couple will be able to live the as the Church intends without seriously straining their marriage. Some couples struggle with NFP due to reasons beyond their control. (Hard to interpret cycles, frequent travel, etc.) Non-Catholics who use the methods for health reasons will often combine it with occasional contraceptive use when they run into these problems, and I don't see this as being a terribly awful thing. I see the teachings on contraception and marital chastity more as an ideal to live up to than a series of rules in the bedroom. While I do think this is an important teaching of the Church, an overly legalistic approach on such a sensitive issue can really push people away from something that can be very physically, psychologically, and relationally healthy.
The problem here, has been that such evangelical individuals were often not as well trained as priests and so forth. And their Catholicism was often wild and even heretical.
Have you been to Mass recently, George? It seems like 'Recreational Catholicism' as you describe it is not only not over, it's a very popular option.
I found this article to be delusional, jargony, and self-congratulatory.
"RC authors often offer more penetrating insights into secular culture than their evangelical equivalents. Comparing George Weigel to Rob Bell in such circumstances is akin to comparing Michelangelo to Thomas Kinkade."
