Mois : janvier 2024

The pope gave a short but important speech to the full membership of the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith last week. Most of it was excellent but there was one glaring omission.

First the good stuff. The pope used the occasion (Jan. 26) to clarify his intentions in approving the document Fiducia Supplicans in December, specifically as it relates to the blessing of persons who are in same-sex unions or other irregular unions. He emphasized that « these blessings, outside of any liturgical context and form, do not demand moral perfection to be received. » Blessings, like Holy Communion, are not a reward for the perfect but food for the journey. 

The pope reemphasized the point in an interview with La Stampa. In response to those who object that persons in a same-sex union are living in an objectively sinful situation, the pope replied, « But we are all sinners. Why then draw up a list of sinners who can enter the church and a list of sinners who cannot be in the church? This is not the Gospel. » 

Any fair reading of the Gospel would find it strange that sexual sins have achieved such a prominent place in people’s understanding of sin. How we treat the poor and the migrants should surely garner as much focus but I do not hear anyone at EWTN complaining that the church should not offer a blessing to, say, Rep. Elise Stefanik because she defends views on immigration that can accurately be described as inhumane and fascistic. I hope the congresswoman takes Communion as often as possible and I hope the grace the sacrament confers will help her to see the light and correct her ways. 

The Holy Father was also right to insist that « Inasmuch as we are Christians, we must not tire of insisting ‘on the primacy of the human person and the defence of his or her dignity beyond every circumstance,’  » quoting Laudate Deum. Our sins degrade our human dignity but they do not remove it. Grace, the grace of the cross, removes the sins and grounds the dignity of the human person. The foundational divergence between this pope and his critics is that he insists God’s grace is at the heart of the Christian story, and they insist that human sinfulness, usually someone else’s sins by the way, is the heart of the story. The pope is right. Unambiguously right.

But not exhaustively right. Just as it is remarkable that a certain kind of conservative Catholic considers sexual sins uniquely antithetical to Christian life, it is also astounding that a certain kind of liberal Catholic thinks shedding traditional sexual mores is the very measure of Christian fidelity. It is not that one is right and the other wrong. It is that we all need to move beyond the conviction that pelvic theology is uniquely, comprehensively, and radically, the most important mark of Christian faith. 

More importantly, the pope structured his short talk around three themes: sacraments, dignity and faith. Like Vatican II itself, he started with consideration of the sacraments. « In these days you have reflected on the theme of the validity of the sacraments, » the pope said. « The life of the church is nourished and grows through them. For this reason, special care is required on the part of ministers in administering them and in disclosing to the faithful the treasures of grace they communicate. » Again, the emphasis is on grace, on God’s activity, and how it nourishes us, not on how we build up or tear down the faith. 

His comments about human dignity also reflected a key insight into this pontificate and those who oppose it. Reread the words already cited: « Inasmuch as we are Christians, we must not tire of insisting ‘on the primacy of the human person and the defence of his or her dignity beyond every circumstance.’  » How often do we fall short of this when we speak against our brothers and sisters in the faith? And, how often do debates about controversial issues reflect the degree to which one or both sides ignore the dignity of those with whom they contend? 

The third word was « faith » and the pope began his treatment of it by saying, « In this regard, I would like to remember two events. » The events were the 10th anniversary of his programmatic apostolic exhortation Evangelii Gaudium and the forthcoming Jubilee year 2025. A key point of convergence among post-conciliar popes is this understanding that Catholic faith is rooted in the event of Jesus Christ, not in a series of propositions. Alas, some who invoke the memory of Popes John Paul II and Benedict XVI fail to grasp this, as do some who invoke Pope Francis. We Catholics can and should be protected from lapsing into ideology by the words we pray every day: « Blest is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. »

What did the pope omit from his talk? He should have addressed the lack of consultation before Fiducia Supplicans. When you spend the better part of two months having to issue clarifications, you know you needed to do a better job preparing the text, or at least preparing the bishops of the world to receive the text. Consultations on major issues are vital and, in this instance, they did not happen.

The pope is free to approve documents and to make decisions as he sees fit. He is the universal pastor of the church. But if he wants the rest of us to embrace synodality, he should insist that the dicasteries that help him govern the church act in a more synodal fashion. The central themes of his pontificate can withstand the arrows shot at them from his opponents. But he needs to make sure he and his allies do not make avoidable, unforced errors.

One of the more delightful cartoons I’ve seen lately shows a puzzled man standing in a secondhand store looking at a display of antique « The end is near » signs. 

Religious traditions that believe that history is headed toward a destiny generally assume that the world will end; some think they can unravel signs of its coming — usually in the near future and to the detriment of their adversaries. Paul and his communities expected Christ to return in glory before most of them died. This helps us interpret much of his teaching, including his advice that it is better not to marry. Why start a family if the second coming is right around the bend? As time went on (and on and on), Christian communities began to adjust their expectations. The writing of the Gospels was one result of their adjustment; the written narrative assured that future generations could know Jesus as his companions did. 

The early communities had to reorient their spirituality as they accepted the fact that Christ was not about to appear to judge the nations. They began to understand that Christ remained present to them and that they had a much larger and longer mission than they had expected. Paul was already moving in this direction when he called his community to be the body of Christ for their world (1 Corinthians 12). 

This takes us from expectations of the end into the realm of prophecy — which is not a foretelling of the future, but a reading of God’s influence and desires for the here and now. In our reading from Deuteronomy, Moses promises the people that God will not abandon them, but rather continue to speak to them through prophets. As the early Christians discovered, the promise of prophets did not end with Jesus; just as his mission would continue, so too would prophecy. The belief that God continues to speak through prophets underlines today’s psalm refrain: « If today you hear God’s voice, harden not your hearts. » This call remains as appropriate today as it was from the times of Moses through Jesus.

That sounds nice and easy, but in reality, it is neither.  

Discerning God’s action and desires requires us to be deeply grounded in tradition and profoundly open to the new. This is obvious from today’s Gospel. Mark depicts Jesus in a whirlwind of activity: teaching (Mark gives us no additional content), healing and battling demons. Curiously, rather than being brought to faith, the people who saw and heard Jesus ended up utterly confused. The least confused were actually his enemies — they understood what was at stake for them.  

In today’s Gospel, Mark repeats two key ideas: the people were « astonished » or « amazed, » and Jesus taught with authority. 

What does their bewilderment tell us? First, it makes it clear that Jesus was not what they expected. The folks in question had gone to listen to a teacher. This was hardly the first time they had heard someone preach in their synagogue. (In the days before the NBA, Hollywood and social media, gathering to listen to a sermon was a form of entertainment as well as a religious activity.)

What Jesus’ audience heard left them like children who had tasted only watery vanilla ice cream being taken to a Baskin Robbins; there was so much there that they couldn’t take it in. The only way people could explain it was to say that Jesus taught with authority, an authority that he authenticated in a successful skirmish with a demon. People saw that Jesus’ word was sufficient to banish an unclean spirit. To citizens of an occupied nation, people who had learned to endure their lot in life, who had grown accustomed to mediocre hopes, Jesus came at them like a thunderstorm in the desert, jolting them out of their tedium.

Having never expected anything like this, most people had no idea how to respond. Some were frightened, others threatened. But to those who would follow him, Jesus offered an amazing new take on life. He rooted his message in their traditions, yet, rather than close the book saying, « That’s all folks! » Jesus spurred them to hope that all the promises of old would come true — in ways so new that they would continually be astounded.

Mark wastes no time as he throws us into the middle of a world turning inside out. He shows us that bewilderment is good for faith; it can startle us into suspecting that there’s more afoot than we would ever dream of.

The end he wants us to see coming near is the end of low expectations — because the reign of God is at hand.

He rolled around the Sprouts parking lot in his wheelchair, one leg extended, the other absent underneath the loosely hanging gray pant leg. I noticed him first, and moved to the next row, heading for my car. But he was quick, adept at getting himself around on the streets. 

When he asked for cash I looked away, offering instead a knee-jerk « not today. » But as I walked off with a bag filled with unnecessary groceries, I relented. It’s true, these were items I had bought on sale, but most of them were indulgences, really, like the jar of Silly Cow hot chocolate and the organic lotion bar, the tin of gingerbread tea and the navel oranges to add to the half-dozen already waiting for me at home.  

You can give the guy a buck, for God’s sake, Pauline.

With the growing population of unhoused people in our city, I’d learned to keep dollar bills loose in the side pocket of my car door so I’d be prepared at stoplights and wouldn’t have to go fishing in my wallet. I retrieved one of the single bills and went back to find him. 

I was accustomed to seeing people asking for money, but usually not this close. And the man in the wheelchair was not someone I recognized from the usual community. He had ventured far beyond the perimeters of the traffic light corner, wheeling himself closer and closer to the Sprouts entrance and exit doors, certain to catch the attention of shoppers before they got into their cars and approached the light.

« Here, » I said, as I handed him the dollar. And then, as if trying to explain my return, « I had this in my car. » 

He looked at the bill, his face a fist of wrinkled displeasure. « C’mon, » he scowled. « Give me $100. »

I must have blinked, maybe even jolted in place. « I don’t have $100, » I said, feeling a little riled at his rudeness.

« Well, how about $25 then? »

« How about you just take the dollar? » And I walked off, regretting my attempt to give anything at all and feeling simultaneously prideful and gullible as my negative inner talk got the best of me.

Until I paused to unlock my car door.

Wait. Who was I doing this for anyway? For myself? To receive an expectant « thank you » and a smile of appreciation? To feel good about my little act of charity? Or was it truly an act of kindness for a person in need in front of me. A man who may not know how to be thankful or kind. A man whose life I knew nothing about.

Suddenly, my imagination took over. It was as if Jesus were talking to me through this stranger’s face.  

Can you still love me when I look like this? When I act like this? When I don’t meet your expectations?

As Jesus’ sweet voice came through the face of this man, I realized what was being asked of me. To see with different eyes. To love with the heart of God.

My heart softened, even though the man’s scowling countenance did not. He appeared before my imagination just as disheveled and distasteful as before. But the Christ within him now shone in a way that my judging self would not have been able to see. There was a warm spark buried within him that layers of pain and woundedness concealed.

True, I had to put my prideful ego aside. But wasn’t this my intention? To discover You in all your many disguises? And You poked me right here in the supermarket parking lot. In the dark shadow of a one-legged man slumped in a wheelchair on an ugly blacktop with engines idling all around, car fumes emitting into my lungs and, instead of angelic choirs, the clanking sound of shopping carts crashing into a queue. 

Not at all what I expected.

« You want to love me better? » You ask. « I’m right here. »

I behold the intentionality and omniscience of God. Although I had been glancing at a particular book’s beautiful purple and gold cover sitting on my desk for a few weeks, I was consumed by responsibilities of academic work and family life and therefore unable to fully immerse myself in its reading. However, during the National Association for Multicultural Education conference in  November — and not inconsequentially, during Black Catholic History Month — I was situated to read Preaching Racial Justice in its entirety. 

The conference’s keynote address was given by Bryan Stevenson, whose work focuses on honoring the sufferings and martyrdom of our ancestors on U.S. soil. He has an equal commitment to the exoneration of innumerable and disproportionately incarcerated Black and brown men, women and children, as described in his book, Just Mercy.

Stevenson’s work has underscored the connection between the generations of brutality and dehumanization of Black and brown bodies for economic profit, from the transatlantic slave trade to the prison industrial complex. In the moments when I was not in conference attendance, I was also taking in the historical context of Montgomery, Alabama. I visited the Legacy Museum, the National Peace and Justice Memorial and the church where meetings were held to organize the Montgomery Bus Boycott. 

In Preaching Racial Justice, Dominican Fr. Gregory Heille recommends making a civil rights pilgrimage, visiting places that have stood in time or have been erected in prayer and memoriam. Heille’s testimony mirrored mine, as this experience seemed to have had just as profound an impact on me as it did on him. None of this was coincidental in my reading of the text, and it set a beautiful and necessary backdrop. 

Preaching Racial Justice is a collection from a group of diverse writers who speak to the urgency, context, necessity and consequentiality of preaching to the congregation about the trauma of racism. Acknowledging the number of parishioners in the U.S. church who identify as white, this text offers some methods for delivering the message about racism while also providing some strategies for « unlearning and relearning, » as described by A. Anita Vincent, one of the book’s contributing authors. 

The text makes explicit that the church as an institution has indeed upheld racism, and the efforts to have honest discussions about it with the flock have been futile. This is a difficult truth for many to grapple with, as it seems much easier to locate racism as external to God’s house or to reduce it to only interpersonal or attitudinal in nature. The uncomfortable realities, however, are outlined rather well through the book’s personal narratives, interviews of religious leaders, and reflections on ancestral and biblical conceptualizations, both in historical and contemporary contexts.

One example is detailed by another Dominican, Fr. James Pierce Cavanaugh, in his interview with Auxiliary Bishop Ferdinand Cheri of New Orleans. Cheri (who died in 2023) provides a historical account of racism and segregation while also describing the racism he endured within the seminary. 

An interweaving of Scriptures throughout many of the chapters fortifies an understanding that rejecting racism and its manifestations goes beyond an individual’s personal viewpoints or offerings. It must be grounded in authentic faith, drawing from the Genesis narrative that tells us we are each made in God’s image and likeness. The biblical focus in the text also emphasizes that racism is, in fact, a sin. 

Another strength of Preaching Racial Justice, which seems to add to the coalescence of the authored pieces, is that it was conceptualized and formed through the authors’ engagement within a community of practice. Each writer had both an individual and collective commitment to helping the reader reflect and potentially apply the book’s lessons in their own lives, or in their church contexts. Another added benefit is the diversity of the contributors, from clergy to lay ministers, all self-described preachers of the Word. Additionally, there is a cultural and social representation, particularly useful for describing how racism and injustice do not just solely impact Black and brown individuals, but are destructive to the entire human race — including those racialized or socially positioned as white. 

I was particularly struck by Deborah Wilhelm’s recounting and then reencountering her family history while gazing at a photo, acknowledging the violent acquisition of Indigenous lands. Fr. Peter Hill provided a self-analysis as a Black Caribbean man, describing how he — like many others across the African diaspora — have internalized white supremacy, leading to a cultural, personal and historical distancing from Black Americans. Although Hill described his own enlightenment through the reading of the Gospel, his narrative exemplifies and reifies just how deeply entrenched negative stereotypes and perceptions about Black Americans are, even by people who themselves would be identified as Black. These are among the difficult and painful tensions discussed in the book’s chapters. 

Aligned with the central focus of the book, contributors note the remarkably poor, inadequate or lacking discussions of racism in many homilies and sermons today, especially following an event of racial terror. Stewart Clem references Pew Research studies showing that American Catholics, along with white evangelicals and mainline Protestants, were less likely to hear about racism in their sermons than those in Black churches. 

This is not without effect, as Valerie Lewis-Mosley painfully describes: « I have had countless experiences of coming to Mass hoping to receive refuge from the trauma experienced by the onslaught of attacks on Black bodies but with no promise of justice. I leave those liturgies feeling even more downtrodden than when I arrived. » 

Preaching Racial Justice also calls out the behaviors of the self-proclaimed faithful. Redemptorist Fr. Maurice Nutt breaks down the problematic « I don’t see color » approach of many white Americans. While it fails to confront and address racism, it also undermines the dangers of both white fragility and the legacy of our country’s idolized « distorted notion of whiteness. » Highlighting the generations of violence, lynchings, exclusion and trauma inflicted upon Black and brown bodies, Nutt questions how members of the Catholic Church could possibly reject the truth of racism as « America’s original sin. »

In a similar way, Fr. Vincent Pastro recounts the commentary from white parishioners after a celebration of the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, perceived as a disruption to the « order » they would have liked to control. He poignantly describes how the church’s inclusivity often looks more like assimilating into white cultural norms rather than celebrating the language, customs, beauty and richness of cultures. This includes those who identify as U.S. Hispanic/Latino and speak the dominant Spanish language, but engage in the othering of Indigeneity. 

Why does Preaching Racial Justice matter? Perhaps this query is framed best through the testimony of Resurrectionist Fr. Manuel Williams. He notes the failure of the Catholic Church to respond to the 1968 manifesto from the National Black Catholic Clergy Caucus following Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassination. The NBCCC explicitly stated how the church persists as a « white racist institution » and assailed its complicity in the failure to acknowledge and lack of response to racism and injustice.

Although the question of why racial justice preaching matters has been left unanswered, perhaps this book contributes a thoughtfully and collectively crafted starting point, moving toward how the church might begin to respond — by speaking directly to its people.

A new course offers Catholics a chance to dive deeper into Pope Francis’ environmental teachings and his vision of integral ecology with guidance from academics and experts at the Vatican and beyond — all without leaving home.

The pontifical universities and athenaeums of Rome have created a joint online, English-based course on integral ecology that will lead students through Francis’ 2015 encyclical, « Laudato Si’, on Care for Our Common Home, » and his recent follow-up Laudate Deum, an apostolic exhortation « on the climate crisis. »

The course begins Jan. 25, with a 90-minute session each month through June. Enrollment remains open through March 31 and can be completed at https://immatricolazioni.unigre.it. For those who enroll after the course’s start, prior sessions will be available online. There is a course fee of 30 euro, or roughly $33.

Initially offered in 2016 at the pontifical universities, the joint diploma in integral ecology consists of a total of six sessions that cover the six thematic chapters of Laudato Si’, such as « What is Happening to Our Common Home? »; « The Gospel of Creation »; and « Integral Ecology. »

An additional March workshop will screen the documentary « The Letter » about Francis’ ecological encyclical, and an online conference on May 2 will delve further into Laudate Deum.

While focused on Catholic teaching, the course is open to anyone interested in learning more about the sacred duty to care for God’s creation and protect life in all its forms, Salesian Fr. Joshtrom Isaac Kureethadam, a professor at Salesian Pontifical University and one of the course instructors, told EarthBeat.

« The initiative hopes to promote a mass movement of people from below and from all walks of life for the care of our common home and the most vulnerable in our midst, » said the author of The Ten Commandments of Laudato Si’.

Each course session will be led by different instructors from the various pontifical universities across Rome, and will include expert voices from other Catholic schools, institutions and international development agencies.

Among them are Susana Réfega, newly named executive director of Laudato Si’ Movement; Mauricio López of the Ecclesial Conference of the Amazon; Celia Deane-Drummond of the Laudato Si’ Research Institute at Oxford University; and John Mundell, director of the Laudato Si’ Action Platform.

The course advisory board includes Cardinal Michael Czerny, head of the Vatican Dicastery for Promoting Integral Human Development; Cardinal Peter Turkson, chancellor of the Pontifical Academies of Sciences and Social Sciences; and the rectors of nine pontifical universities and athenaeums.

Graduates can receive a certificate upon completing the course, as well as become official Laudato Si’ animators through a program run by Laudato Si’ Movement.

« The unprecedented challenge facing the planet and people can only be addressed within the lens of an integral ecological vision that Pope Francis championed in Laudato si’, » the course materials state.

Raising ecological education has been a primary goal for the pope and the Vatican as a central piece of the planet’s response to the rapidly growing threats from climate change and biodiversity loss.

« Only by cultivating sound virtues will people be able to make a selfless ecological commitment, » Francis wrote in the Laudato Si’ chapter on ecological education and spirituality.

He added, « Our efforts at education will be inadequate and ineffectual unless we strive to promote a new way of thinking about human beings, life, society and our relationship with nature. »

In Laudate Deum, Francis bemoaned that in the eight years since he issued Laudato Si’ « our responses have not been adequate, while the world in which we live is collapsing and may be nearing the breaking point. »

He later stated: « There are no lasting changes without cultural changes, without a maturing of lifestyles and convictions within societies, and there are no cultural changes without personal changes. »

The pope also sought to use the exhortation to educate as well, spending a sizable portion of its opening to counter climate denialism, « even within the Catholic Church, » by presenting the latest data on climate change that he melded with moral context.

At the COP28 United Nations climate conference in December, the delegation representing the Holy See stressed the importance of education and lifestyle change in nations’ collective response to climate change.

The Holy See delegation proposed adding to the Dubai gathering’s concluding document a requirement for countries to include and fund climate education within climate solutions, but the proposal was not adopted.

« We need to change our way of life and thus educate everyone to sober and fraternal lifestyles, » Francis said in a video message to inaugurate the first-ever faith pavilion at a U.N. climate summit. « This is an essential obligation for religions, which are called to teach contemplation, since creation is not only an ecosystem to preserve, but also a gift to embrace. »