This evening I attended a panel discussion at the invitation of a friend. The title of the sponsored evening was "A Crisis of Leadership and Faith" and included three panelists--a child advocacy lawyer, a theologian, and a parish priest--who shared their views on the "reality behind the headlines" of the clergy abuse scandal from their respective positions. It was held at a local Catholic college, one of a dozen or so in our immediate area.
I went into the evening with as open a mind as I could. My inclination was to presuppose both the panelists and the audience were of a more progressive bent, though I was also prepared to be mistaken if that was in fact not the case. I did check out the twitter feed of the theologian on the panel prior to the talk, and did notice he retweeted Fr. James Martin, Democratic Senator Tim Kaine, and a quote by liberation theologian Gustavo Gutierrez, which gave me a pretty good idea of his leanings. The friend who invited me and with whom I attended was not Catholic, but had an respectful curiosity about Catholicism in general and was open to learning something about the Church, which was in many respects a kind of foreign institution.
Life, politics, religion are never completely polarized to the extent we see on the news. Most people in everyday life are not classified in a binary fashion as either "Radical Leftists" or "Right-wing extremists" but have ideations on a gradient. And yet when it comes to my feeds, my social circle, and my Catholic sphere of influence, I would say I am in somewhat of a conservative bubble. I vet sources and am generally aware of which lean left and vice versa. I know publications like America magazine and The National Catholic Reporter exist, but do not feel inclined to read or cite them, though I try not to demonize them either. I am willing to concede that there are different ways of approaching or seeing an issue, and I try to be respectful and charitable in the way I would hope to be respected and treated with charity. So, my attendance at this talk was a kind of opportune forced exercise, a chance to venture out of said bubble and see what was going on on the other side of the Catholic fence.
The panelists shared their respective experience and views on the roots of the crisis. The lawyer--a Catholic mother of four--spoke about abuse in general and what was unique about abuse in the Church, the PA Grand Jury report, and her advocacy work. The theologian spoke about the problem of clericalism, structural sins/violence, unequal distribution of power, church organizing, and changing social structures. The priest spoke about his particular parish, comprised of predominately Hispanic families (many of whom were undocumented) and how in this community the priest is trusted and "they come to me for everything." They shared for about an hour, after which questions were taken from the audience.
I was there to learn--about the abuse crisis in the context of this particular talk, yes; but also as a "mystery shopper" to learn about how progressive Catholicism works and how "we-are-the-church" Catholics think, what they believe, and the things they presuppose. Here are a few of my observations:
-Learning how to read between the lines.
The language that is used says a lot about their ideological presuppositions. For instance, references to the #metoo movement, social sin, change, justice, organizing, empowering, etc. are keywords for a progressive ideology. Whereas a conservative may regard with suspicion or disdain and would not include such terms in their lexicon, it is important to realize that for a progressive, these are points of pride. Change is not something to fear but embraced, for instance. It's where efforts should be focused, and mobilization should be occurring, a kind of "get out the vote" mentality. It can be subtle, though, not always overt but implicit.
-What is not talked about is as important as what is talked about.
Orthodox Catholics can sometimes fall into the trap of litmus testing and showing their hand in brusque fashion. "Yes, but what about ABORTION??" may be preemptively interjected when the topic of the preferential option for the poor comes up. Of course care for the poor should not be antithetical to the life of the unborn, so it plays into progressives' dismissal of conservatives as "obsessed with below-the-belt issues." The theologian spoke about his work supporting CRS (Catholic Relief Services) and getting other students involved with them as well. That being said, it was notable that many things were intentionally left unsaid when the John Jay report came up during the discussion. Homosexuality was never mentioned, and pedophilia was brought up, but not pederasty, for instance.
-How the narrative is framed
One thing I noticed--both from audience members when they offered their comments and questions, and from the panelists themselves--is that progressive-minded Catholics frame the narrative as one of power structures, inequality, and a kind of egalitarian ideal. One woman called for "a greater role for women in the Church" and another man spoke of empowerment of the laity in leading discussions and working to make a difference. It is an interesting intersection with conservative Catholics, though, who also realize there is a failure in ecclesial examples of personal holiness and that the laity will in fact be leading the charge in keeping the Church afloat.
-Radically different assumptions
Much like the way Republicans favor small government, states' rights, and free markets while Democrats favor taxation and more federal oversight and regulation, there are different assumptions within the Church among progressives and conservatives on what "church" means, the role of the conscience, and ecclesial authority. Emphasis on the social and collective versus the personal was something I noticed (social/structural sin vs. personal holiness, etc)
When I had the opportunity to ask a question, I asked how the panelists saw the crisis of faith, as noted (but not discussed) in the title of the talk. I cited some statistics from Pew research indicating that 50% of young Americans who were raised in the Church no longer call themselves Catholic; that 7% of those raised in the Church still attend Mass weekly; and that 8 in 10 leave the Faith before they turn 23. Of course there is no real answer that can be summed up in a few minutes time, but the question itself, I felt, was worth asking. Does progressive Catholicism attract a committed and sustainable community of young believers? Does orthodoxy? If so, it is overstated, or is it enough to sustain the demographic vocations cliff that will radically challenge the ecclesial carrying capacity of the Church in the next twenty years when aging priests retire and/or die?
I felt like an outlier in the crowd, and while I originally had a kind of antagonistic mentality going in, I deliberately tried to temper it with an open-minded listening and a respectful temperance of pushing my own ideological assumptions forcefully into the conversation. These were people who were also committed to the Church as they knew it. I felt for the young theologian, who said that between his wife and him, they had five degrees in Theology between them. "I have given my whole life to the Church," he said, and seemed to imply that he was too invested to turn his back on it. But I also got the impression that the progressive platform rested on the theme of change, and doing it from the inside by way of organizing and challenging the nature of ecclesial hierarchy. It seemed like a kind of hold over from the 1960's way of thinking/organizing/exacting reform, a bit tired, and one that I'm not convinced will save the Church from its present crisis.
I went into the evening with as open a mind as I could. My inclination was to presuppose both the panelists and the audience were of a more progressive bent, though I was also prepared to be mistaken if that was in fact not the case. I did check out the twitter feed of the theologian on the panel prior to the talk, and did notice he retweeted Fr. James Martin, Democratic Senator Tim Kaine, and a quote by liberation theologian Gustavo Gutierrez, which gave me a pretty good idea of his leanings. The friend who invited me and with whom I attended was not Catholic, but had an respectful curiosity about Catholicism in general and was open to learning something about the Church, which was in many respects a kind of foreign institution.
Life, politics, religion are never completely polarized to the extent we see on the news. Most people in everyday life are not classified in a binary fashion as either "Radical Leftists" or "Right-wing extremists" but have ideations on a gradient. And yet when it comes to my feeds, my social circle, and my Catholic sphere of influence, I would say I am in somewhat of a conservative bubble. I vet sources and am generally aware of which lean left and vice versa. I know publications like America magazine and The National Catholic Reporter exist, but do not feel inclined to read or cite them, though I try not to demonize them either. I am willing to concede that there are different ways of approaching or seeing an issue, and I try to be respectful and charitable in the way I would hope to be respected and treated with charity. So, my attendance at this talk was a kind of opportune forced exercise, a chance to venture out of said bubble and see what was going on on the other side of the Catholic fence.
The panelists shared their respective experience and views on the roots of the crisis. The lawyer--a Catholic mother of four--spoke about abuse in general and what was unique about abuse in the Church, the PA Grand Jury report, and her advocacy work. The theologian spoke about the problem of clericalism, structural sins/violence, unequal distribution of power, church organizing, and changing social structures. The priest spoke about his particular parish, comprised of predominately Hispanic families (many of whom were undocumented) and how in this community the priest is trusted and "they come to me for everything." They shared for about an hour, after which questions were taken from the audience.
I was there to learn--about the abuse crisis in the context of this particular talk, yes; but also as a "mystery shopper" to learn about how progressive Catholicism works and how "we-are-the-church" Catholics think, what they believe, and the things they presuppose. Here are a few of my observations:
-Learning how to read between the lines.
The language that is used says a lot about their ideological presuppositions. For instance, references to the #metoo movement, social sin, change, justice, organizing, empowering, etc. are keywords for a progressive ideology. Whereas a conservative may regard with suspicion or disdain and would not include such terms in their lexicon, it is important to realize that for a progressive, these are points of pride. Change is not something to fear but embraced, for instance. It's where efforts should be focused, and mobilization should be occurring, a kind of "get out the vote" mentality. It can be subtle, though, not always overt but implicit.
-What is not talked about is as important as what is talked about.
Orthodox Catholics can sometimes fall into the trap of litmus testing and showing their hand in brusque fashion. "Yes, but what about ABORTION??" may be preemptively interjected when the topic of the preferential option for the poor comes up. Of course care for the poor should not be antithetical to the life of the unborn, so it plays into progressives' dismissal of conservatives as "obsessed with below-the-belt issues." The theologian spoke about his work supporting CRS (Catholic Relief Services) and getting other students involved with them as well. That being said, it was notable that many things were intentionally left unsaid when the John Jay report came up during the discussion. Homosexuality was never mentioned, and pedophilia was brought up, but not pederasty, for instance.
-How the narrative is framed
One thing I noticed--both from audience members when they offered their comments and questions, and from the panelists themselves--is that progressive-minded Catholics frame the narrative as one of power structures, inequality, and a kind of egalitarian ideal. One woman called for "a greater role for women in the Church" and another man spoke of empowerment of the laity in leading discussions and working to make a difference. It is an interesting intersection with conservative Catholics, though, who also realize there is a failure in ecclesial examples of personal holiness and that the laity will in fact be leading the charge in keeping the Church afloat.
-Radically different assumptions
Much like the way Republicans favor small government, states' rights, and free markets while Democrats favor taxation and more federal oversight and regulation, there are different assumptions within the Church among progressives and conservatives on what "church" means, the role of the conscience, and ecclesial authority. Emphasis on the social and collective versus the personal was something I noticed (social/structural sin vs. personal holiness, etc)
When I had the opportunity to ask a question, I asked how the panelists saw the crisis of faith, as noted (but not discussed) in the title of the talk. I cited some statistics from Pew research indicating that 50% of young Americans who were raised in the Church no longer call themselves Catholic; that 7% of those raised in the Church still attend Mass weekly; and that 8 in 10 leave the Faith before they turn 23. Of course there is no real answer that can be summed up in a few minutes time, but the question itself, I felt, was worth asking. Does progressive Catholicism attract a committed and sustainable community of young believers? Does orthodoxy? If so, it is overstated, or is it enough to sustain the demographic vocations cliff that will radically challenge the ecclesial carrying capacity of the Church in the next twenty years when aging priests retire and/or die?
I felt like an outlier in the crowd, and while I originally had a kind of antagonistic mentality going in, I deliberately tried to temper it with an open-minded listening and a respectful temperance of pushing my own ideological assumptions forcefully into the conversation. These were people who were also committed to the Church as they knew it. I felt for the young theologian, who said that between his wife and him, they had five degrees in Theology between them. "I have given my whole life to the Church," he said, and seemed to imply that he was too invested to turn his back on it. But I also got the impression that the progressive platform rested on the theme of change, and doing it from the inside by way of organizing and challenging the nature of ecclesial hierarchy. It seemed like a kind of hold over from the 1960's way of thinking/organizing/exacting reform, a bit tired, and one that I'm not convinced will save the Church from its present crisis.
Hey, Rob. I really appreciate this. For all my frustrations with a non-progressive political subculture, what this really drives home for me is that I'm not a progressive, in any sense. In a way, that's comforting, because if you have described the ways of thinking accurately, no wonder there is conflict! It can't really be otherwise.
ReplyDeleteLurking under some of it is the idea that the Church and its sacramental life is a merely human institution. You and I deny this as a matter of faith, so even if we wanted to have knock-down, drag-out fights about taxes or something, we're still seeing the world in basically the same way.
I guess the real challenge is to discern where God might be calling us to listen, even to those with the wrong fundamental assumptions, and how to make use of that, without losing the faith of the Church, and the moral law.