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How the gladiators inspired evangelicals’ sense of persecution

With the release of Ridley Scott’s « Gladiator II, » audiences will be plunged back into the cinematic excitement of the Roman amphitheater so vividly captured in its predecessor, « Gladiator. »

Scott’s film will undoubtedly capture the thrills of this spectacle. But as someone who studies the Roman world, I think it’s worth remembering that its cultural legacy goes beyond the cinematic pleasures of the big screen.

You might be surprised to learn that there are threads that tie together gladiators, Christian martyrs and the sense of persecution that exists among many U.S. evangelicals today.

Fan clubs and heartthrobs

Gladiatorial fights likely began as part of the funeral rites of wealthy Roman families. Over time, the fights became mass public events, regulated by the state and elites.

They included three sets of events: wild beast fights, the executions of criminals, and gladiatorial fights. The gladiators were the main event, with their forthcoming battles hyped on the walls of Roman cities. These advertisements often mentioned the names of the famous fighters, the number of gladiators fighting, and whether there would be fights to the death. Not all gladiators fought to the death: The gladiator Hilarus, for example, won 12 times but fought in 14 fights.

Gladiators were, by law, required to be slaves.

Their enslavers invested time and money in their training and upkeep. Roman games were put on at the expense of local elites, or even the emperor. Well-trained gladiators meant better shows for the sponsors and bigger profits for their owners. A gladiator who died in his first fight was not good for business. Meanwhile, a successful gladiator — meaning one who had made his enslaver a lot of money — could hope to be freed or be given an opportunity to buy his freedom.

Those who won could also expect to become beloved celebrities, which somewhat offset the dishonor of being enslaved. In Pompeii, multiple inscriptions mention the Thracian gladiator Celadus, calling him a heartthrob. Gladiatorial fan clubs were common. One group was likely responsible for a riot that broke out during a set of games in Pompeii in 59 C.E. There’s even evidence of gladiatorial cosplay. One Roman senator was said to have fought duels with a woman in a leopard costume at Ostia.

Meanwhile, the tombstones of gladiators in Roman-controlled Greece celebrated their prowess using language drawn from ancient athletics, which were sports that were only available to freeborn citizens. These gladiators gave themselves stage names evoking mythological heroes or their courage and bravery.

These stage names were not just for entertainment; they were attempts to immortalize their respectability. By casting themselves as athletes and not enslaved fighters, they presented themselves as participants in a noble, athletic tradition.

Christians embrace ancient athletics

Early Christians used descriptions of sports and athletics because they could be easily understood by Roman society.

Ancient athletic competitions shaped how people thought about beauty, the body, self-control, education and competition. For victorious gladiators, the outcast and the slave could paradoxically embody the ideals of Roman virtue.

In the Christian New Testament, the apostle Paul famously describes himself as a runner and a boxer and even as a gladiator. The writer of the letter to the Hebrews speaks of running a race before a heavenly crowd of witnesses.

By embracing this imagery, early Christians positioned themselves as outsiders who nonetheless championed Roman ideals and culture.

Gladiator as martyr

Some early Christians followed Paul’s example and wrote themselves into the culture of ancient sports, particularly in a genre of Christian writing focused on martyrdom.

It is commonly thought that the earliest Christians were regularly and systematically persecuted by the Roman government. But the widespread persecution of ancient Christians under the Roman Empire is a myth that modern historians have debunked. Local persecutions did happen from time to time: There were a few short periods where the imperial government targeted Christians. However, for the most part, the Romans paid little attention to Christians.

So why were Christians so focused on telling stories of martyrs?

Ancient Christians wrote violent stories about martyrs because they functioned as morality plays that taught virtue and vice.

One example is the account of the « Martyrs of Lyons and Vienne, » written sometime at the end of the second century C.E. In the story, those condemned to death in the arena are described as « noble athletes » and « noble competitors. » The author characterizes Christians — who are dying not as athletes or gladiators, but as common criminals — as those who possess the elite virtues of great athletes. The reversal of expectations gives the story its force.

You can see this in the character of Blandina, an enslaved woman who is described in the account as a noble athlete and as one who has put on Christ, the « mighty and powerful athlete. » The author instructs the audience to see her as a hero, not as a slave or a criminal: through her, « Christ showed that the things that appear worthless, obscure, and despicable among men are considered worthy of great glory with God. »

In another martyr narrative, a woman named Perpetua has a dream in which she transforms into a gladiator before her martyrdom. These early Christian martyr accounts envision games in which enslaved people display noble courage and virtue; those condemned to torture, beatings and violent deaths are unfazed. Instead, they’re self-possessed athletes who strive for imperishable crowns.

Forever persecuted

The draw of stories in which Christians are « thrown to the lions » has remained powerful. Most ancient martyr accounts were written after Christianity became legal in the Roman Empire. But Christians continued to write stories about martyrs even after they became the majority of the population.

In the U.S. today, evangelical, charismatic and conservative Christians continue to tap into the martyrdom mythology. Even as they’ve become a powerful force in national politics, many influential wings of conservative U.S. Christians have come to characterize themselves as a persecuted minority. And they keep writing martyr stories.

High school football coach Joe Kennedy became an evangelical hero for fighting for the right to pray on the field at public high school football games. Kennedy had been fired for leading postgame prayers on the field, in violation of school policy. His supporters viewed him as a champion of religious freedom who was being unfairly persecuted for his beliefs. Kennedy ultimately fought all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court, which ruled in his favor.

Other conservative Christians have also returned to the arena. This time, they’re the gladiatorial fighters and not the murdered martyrs.

The popular internet meme of Marine Todd taps into this particular fantasy: The fictional Marine gets so fed up with his atheist university professor that he punches him in front of the class. Meanwhile, the gallows and crosses that accompanied the Jan. 6, 2021, attack on the U.S. Capitol juxtaposed fantasies of violence with Christian fears of persecution. While less ominous, the recent film « The Carpenter » puts Jesus ringside, telling the story of how Jesus takes on an apprentice and teaches him how to fight, MMA-style, in ancient Nazareth.

In depictions like these, Christians are no longer dying in the arena. It’s where they fight back.

Turning to the Blessed Virgin Mary in prayer

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First Sunday of Advent: God is waiting

« The days are coming! »

Like last week’s celebration of Christ the King, today’s Gospel gives us an apocalyptic vision amazingly applicable to our days. Lest we think we’re unique, people throughout the ages have felt the same — and who’s to say it’s not true?

Jesus says, « People will die of fright! »

Wow! Did you ever feel like that was happening? Maybe you didn’t think you would die, but did you ever feel paralyzed, unable to reply or think of a way to deal with something? Then there’s the depression and deception we feel when good people suffer, or when a young mother dies while her great-grandmother lies in bed wondering why God doesn’t take her.

Moments like these lead some to abandon their faith. God has not met their expectations, so God, or at least a loving God, must not exist. In truth, the god who failed them does not exist. The god who rearranges reality for those who pray hard enough bears little resemblance to the God Jesus revealed. The god of slaves who tells people to suffer in silence, for their reward will be great in heaven, is not the God about whom Jesus preached. The « god of the gaps, » the explanation for the incomprehensible, is not the God of Jesus. The god debunked by atheists like Richard Dawkins is more like a magician or an imaginary bodyguard than the God of Jesus.

Today’s readings urge us to broaden our concept of God and God’s involvement in history.

The Scriptures give witness that many people need to pass through periods of doubt to refine their sense of God. Might that be what Jesus was talking about when he said, « The powers of the heavens will be shaken »? Jesus experienced that himself, especially as he was suffering and dying. He called out, « My God! Why have you forsaken me? » In the depths of desolation and solitude, he called out to God who was not saving him in the way he hoped, yet who remained the God he loved and in whom he believed.

Our reading from Jeremiah reiterates a typical prophetic promise: The God of justice will reign on this earth. How? Not by supernatural intervention nor by breaking the « laws of nature. » Rather, God’s justice will reign through people so open to inspiration that they allow the Spirit to move them in ways they had not imagined, the ones with enough faith to believe against all odds. These are the prophetic people through whom God transforms history. 

Jesus told his disciples — including us — that when the nations are in dismay and even nature seems a traitor to life, redemption is right around the corner. When he said, « the powers of the heavens will be shaken, » might he have been describing the death of our comfortable false gods? It can come to pass that everything we once believed will appear inadequate.

When all of that happens, Jesus says, « Stand erect! Raise your head! Your redemption is at hand! » This does not sound exactly like good news.  Yet isn’t the whole of the Gospel a promise of unanticipated and unimaginable transformations? Isn’t the Gospel a call to turn our perspectives inside out?  

Just after announcing redemption in the midst of tragedy and disorientation, Jesus tells us, « Do not let your hearts grow drowsy. » Doesn’t that sound like a warning to shun the attitude of « it is what it is »? Isn’t Jesus asking us to feel it all with him and to let him work through us by putting God’s saving love into action? Isn’t he telling us that when we see tragedy, innocent suffering or a profusion of lies, our task is to pray for the strength to be signs of hope, witnesses to the fact evil will never triumph over good? Isn’t he telling us that complacency will smother God’s dream in our hearts?

As we begin Advent, perhaps we should reverse conventional thinking and consider that God is waiting for us more than we for God. Maybe God is waiting for us to allow grace to open and strengthen our hearts and minds. Maybe God is waiting for us to exercise the faith we need to pass through days of terrifying uncertainty and learn to believe in and love God who is bigger and different from what we expect.

Maybe Advent is all about discovering God waiting for us to perceive the « day of the Lord. »  It is at hand if only we will allow ourselves to perceive it. 

Turning to the Blessed Virgin Mary in prayer

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Why you should get to know Thomas Aquinas, even 800 years after he lived

Some years ago, I was rushing past the treasures of the Louvre in Paris, on the way to the « Mona Lisa, » when a painting stopped me in my tracks.

Massive and unusually elongated, « The Triumph of St. Thomas Aquinas » depicts the 13th-century saint throned in a golden sun, with Aristotle and Plato standing reverently on either side. The Renaissance artist Benozzo Gozzoli paints Christ and the writers of the Gospels looking down at Aquinas approvingly.

But who is the turbaned figure under Aquinas’ feet, crushed by his frankly famous weight and crawling away in defeat? That would be the 12th century Muslim philosopher Ibn Rushd, or Averroes, as he became known in Latin Europe.

« Oh no, » I said out loud.

Us vs. them

As a Catholic philosopher and avid student of Aquinas, I am always fielding questions about whether this medieval saint is « still worth » reading today, nearly 800 years after his birth.

Aquinas is a giant of Western philosophy and theology, and for good reason. His writing is clear, well organized, free from bombast – ideas shine through his words. Famously, he insisted that faith and reason are in harmonious partnership, integrating the known science, philosophy and theology of his day into a comprehensive, interconnected system. All this helps explain why his work has maintained an enduring appeal, even as equally brilliant medieval thinkers have sunk into oblivion.

But Aquinas’ devotees have often used his ideas as blunt instruments, wielding the weight of his words against their own foes – giving him a reputation as a Catholic battle-ax.

There is a story that Aquinas was once dining with King Louis IX of France. Suddenly, the saint slammed his massive fist on a table, making the cups rattle. « That settles the Manichees! » he exclaimed, referring to an ancient religious sect.

His thoughts wandering, Aquinas had come up with a rebuttal against the Manichees’ belief that physical matter was evil — a view Aquinas fundamentally opposed, given his deep convictions about the goodness of all creation.

His followers have a history of attempting the same: thumping Aquinas’ writings down on the table to smite their enemies.

That’s the spirit Gozzoli and other painters channeled in their own times, painting Aquinas as a defeater of Muslim philosophy. They worked in the 15th century, as tensions between Christian and Muslim kingdoms were boiling over into war, from Spain and Italy to Constantinople.

Similarly, in the 19th century, Catholic seminaries and universities elevated Aquinas’ teachings to beat back threatening ideas from modern philosophy — like the claim that all reality is material and that all truths can be deduced through reason alone.

In our own age, that kind of « us or them » dynamic is easy to recognize. Addicted to outrage endlessly amplified by social media, we are all too eager to cheer on champions who can « settle » our foes for us. We thrive on the public takedown, the snide meme, the clever quip from our political heroes, regardless of whether what they say is true.

Yet that dynamic leaves a bad taste. Aquinas’ dominance of Catholic theology collapsed in the 1960s. Today, many scholars of medieval philosophy sideline Aquinas, arguing that he has already had enough attention.

The ‘O.G.’ Aquinas

After all this, is it still worth reading Aquinas?

Well, which Aquinas?

The Aquinas who gets hauled out to settle scores is, I’d argue, not the « O.G. » Aquinas. The Italian friar who crisscrossed Europe on foot, teaching and writing a mind-boggling 8 million words, offers a different kind of role model — one who sought intellectual understanding, not just victory.

Ironically, on my visit to the Louvre, I was in Paris for a conference of the Aquinas and the Arabs group. These researchers are documenting the extensive influence that Muslim and Jewish thinkers exerted on Aquinas. More broadly, the group also studies those thinkers’ impact on the tremendous burst of philosophical and theological creativity at universities across 13th-century Europe.

Take Averroes, the philosopher cowering under Aquinas in Gozzoli’s painting. Aquinas certainly had sharp things to say about Averroes’ notion of the soul, arguing, for instance, that it undermined free will. In one of his more heated moments, the typically more mild-mannered Aquinas wrote that Averroes’ theory was « repugnant to what is obvious. »

Yet Aquinas’ entire theory of human knowledge is built on principles inherited from Averroes. Even in describing the highest Christian goal — beholding God in the afterlife, the « beatific vision » — Aquinas borrowed from the Muslim philosopher’s explanation of how human minds can be lifted to a higher plane of being.

Indeed, Aquinas continually drew inspiration from other thinkers with whom he did not share a faith: He cites the Persian Muslim philosopher-physician Ibn Sīnā, or Avicenna, the Jewish rabbi Maimonides, the Roman statesman and skeptic Cicero, and Aristotle himself.

Aquinas’ embrace of their insights stems from his passionate pursuit of the truth about God and creatures — a pursuit that demands an open heart.

If I don’t yearn to see reality for what it really is, there is no point listening to someone else’s insights. If nothing is true, there is no reason to disagree – but they have nothing to teach me either. I can collect their ideas like so many pebbles in a display case, but I cannot enter into a genuine conversation with them.

The reason that Aquinas is still worth reading today is not that he was right about everything, or that he provides easy-to-swallow, prepackaged formulas. Rather, it is that he opens up a great journey, urging readers to « lift up our minds and pursue the goal » of truth — a goal everyone can share.

At the end of his life, having experienced a vision of God beyond words, Aquinas said, « all I have written is straw. » To undertake such a great journey, with such a generous guide — this might just be the tonic we need today.The Conversation

Turning to the Blessed Virgin Mary in prayer

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Americans agree more than they might think — not knowing this jeopardizes the nation’s shared values

There is strong support for fundamental democratic principles, including equal protection under the law, voting rights, religious freedoms, freedom of assembly and speech and a free press.

On critical issues such as climate change, a majority of citizens acknowledge the reality of human-caused climate change and endorse the development of renewable energy. Similarly, support for women’s reproductive rights, including the right to an abortion, is widespread.

Though Republicans tend to be more concerned about the economy when they vote, both Republicans and Democrats rank it highly as a top political priority. Despite a currently strong economy by many standards, however, supporters of both parties believe the economy is performing poorly.

This fact is likely the result of a combination of pandemic-related factors, from reduced spending and increased saving during the height of the pandemic to lingering inflation, partly triggered by the pandemic. Whatever the reason for this shared pessimism over the economy, it clearly helped Donald Trump win the 2024 election.

Overall, Americans have a positive view of immigration. That sentiment has declined in recent years, however, as most Americans now want to see rates of immigration reduced — Republicans more so than Democrats.

Part of the tension in the nation’s thinking about immigration is likely the result of a political culture that favors sensational stories and disinformation over more sober consideration of related issues and challenges. For instance, much of this election’s discourse over immigration was marred by fictional and bigoted accounts of immigrants eating pets and inaccurate portrayals of most immigrants as criminals. It should be evident that even shared political perceptions aren’t always based on good evidence or reasons.

Despite the existence of so much common ground, Americans see the nation as polarized. Shared values and concerns matter little if constant exposure to disinformation makes it nearly impossible for half the population to sort fact from fiction.

The effect of perception

The perception of division itself can fuel distrust where common ground might otherwise be found among citizens.

Even with substantial consensus on many issues, the perception of polarization often drives public discourse. This misalignment can be exacerbated by partisans with something to gain.

Research shows that when people are told that experts are divided on an issue, such as climate change, it can lead to increased polarization. Conversely, emphasizing the fact of scientific consensus tends to unify public concern and action.

The perception among U.S. voters that they disagree more than they agree can precede and perpetuate discord. Differing political camps begin to perceive each other as foes rather than fellow citizens.

This continued perception that Americans are more divided on issues than we actually are poses an enormous threat to democracy. The biggest threat is that people begin to see even neighbors and family members who vote differently as enemies. Stress about holiday interactions with relatives who voted differently is reportedly leading some people to cancel family gatherings rather than spend time together.

Yet, Americans are still potential allies in a larger fight to realize similar political aspirations. If people are too busy attacking each other, they will miss opportunities to unite in defense of shared goals when threats emerge. In fact, they will fail to recognize the real threats to their shared values while busily stoking divisions that make them increasingly vulnerable to disinformation.

Bridging the gap

Recognizing the public’s shared values is an important step in healing political divides. Philosopher Robert B. Talisse has argued that one way to get started might be refocusing attention on community projects that are nonpolitical but bring together people who don’t normally think of each other as political allies.

This might include, for example, participating in civic or sports clubs, or volunteering to help with local community events. These actions are not overtly politically charged. Rather, they are collaborative in a way that supports community identity rather than partisan identity. It is an exercise in rebuilding civic trust and recognizing each other as fellow citizens, and perhaps even friends, without the tension of partisan politics. Once this trust in each other’s civic identity is healed, it can open a door for meaningful political discussion and understanding of each other’s shared concerns.

If we Americans don’t find ways to recognize our shared values, and even our shared humanity, we won’t be able to defend those values when they are challenged.The Conversation

Turning to the Blessed Virgin Mary in prayer

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Grateful for the reopening of Notre Dame Cathedral

As Christians, every day, indeed every moment, is cause for giving thanks, but tomorrow is our national Thanksgiving Day.

First established by Abraham Lincoln in 1863, that is, in the midst of the Civil War, Lincoln wrote in his proclamation that we should « fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty hand to heal the wounds of the nation, and to restore it, as soon as may be consistent with the Divine purposes, to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquility, and union. »

After a brutal election that sometimes felt like a civil war, this Thanksgiving may be harder for some more than others. For us Catholics, however, there is one thing that may help us because it helped me on Wednesday, Nov. 6, the morning after the election.

That morning, going on about 2 hours sleep, I poured a coffee and went outside to smoke a cigarette. (I permit myself an occasional pack, and when I realized the election wasn’t going the way I had hoped, I permitted myself a second pack. Mea culpa.) While smoking and downing the coffee, I scrolled through the feed on my phone and amidst all the election coverage, there was a story about the reopening of the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris next month.

Forget about the swing voters in Pennsylvania and Wisconsin and Nevada. Forget about Trump and Harris. Forget about all of it. Here was something to be happy about. Here was something to introduce some perspective.

We all remember that dreadful day, April 15, 2019, when we turned on the TV or a friend called and told us to turn on the TV, and watched helplessly as the great cathedral of Paris burned. At first it appeared to be confined to the roof of the crossing, where the nave and transepts intersect, but soon the entire roof was ablaze. As I wrote at the time, it felt like a giant Tenebrae service, all gloomy lamentation. The French people may no longer be distinguished for their Mass-attendance rates, but thousands stood silently and wept as the cathedral burned.

Many have followed the reconstruction on YouTube or on « 60 Minutes. » The decision to rebuild the church using the techniques of the past was as inspired as the architecture being rebuilt.

Proposals for an avant-garde roof were happily cast aside. That the work has been done in barely more than five years is remarkable in every way.

Churches acquire a sense of sanctity along with the soot from the candles and the smoke from the incense. The prayers of the faithful seem to soften the stones of a church over time. The reconstruction has cleared away all the accumulated grime, and we 21st-century Christians will be the first in hundreds of years to see Notre Dame as it was when first built.

The stone will be almost white.

The windows will be clean.

It will be stunning.

I do not think the sanctity has been washed away with the grime. Earlier this month, the statue of Our Lady of the Pillar was carried back into the cathedral with vast crowds singing hymns to the Blessed Mother. That statue has stood to the right of the main altar for centuries. People stood before it to offer a prayer and light a candle when they sought protection from famines in its early years and from the plague in the 17th century, for deliverance from invaders in the 19th and 20th centuries, and for more quotidian reasons throughout. I always stopped and said a Hail Mary whenever I went to Paris.

The return of the statue reminds us that this is a story with its origins in the life of a Jewish woman who lived 2,000 years ago. She had no education (and no original sin either), she never wrote a treatise, never invented a widget. Yet, through the centuries, the Blessed Mother has inspired some of the greatest works of art and architecture, none more beloved than the cathedral in her honor along the Seine River in the French capital.

The Blessed Mother encourages us Christians to humble obedience. She also points to the radicalness of God’s promises: The hungry he has filled with good things; the rich he has sent away empty (Luke 1)! In good times and in bad, she is the one to whom millions of Christians turn, asking for her intercession, and she never disappoints, always pointing us to her blessed Son. This monument of Western European culture begins, and never ceases to be, a monument to a Semitic mother.

One of the few regrets to register is that the late Pope Benedict XVI is not around to deliver the sermon at the cathedral’s reopening. It would have been a tour de force.

Trump will still be sworn in on Jan. 20. The problems that beset the world — and the church! — will continue after the official reconsecration of Notre Dame on Dec. 8, the Solemnity of Immaculate Conception. But when Trump is gone, when all our problems have given way to different problems, Notre Dame Cathedral will stand, receiving pilgrims and inviting them to draw closer to God through the intercession of His Mother. That is a darned good reason to be grateful. Happy Thanksgiving!

Turning to the Blessed Virgin Mary in prayer

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Murder of priest in Chiapas prompts Indigenous calls for justice and peace

The Oct. 20 killing of a priest of Indigenous origin in Chiapas, in the southern part of Mexico, has prompted an unexpected social reaction in the region, challenging the interests of businesses, the Mexican government and drug cartels.

A number of processions and marches gathering thousands of participants have taken place in the city of San Cristóbal de las Casas and in neighboring towns. The attendees not only demand justice in relation to Fr. Marcelo Pérez’s case, but also cry for peace in the violence-stricken region — which includes protection of the common home and Indigenous communities.

A member of the Indigenous Maya Tzotsil group, Pérez had been a leader of the local communities’ struggle against development and commercial projects that could harm not only the environment but also their very existence.

The prosecutors’ office in the city of San Cristóbal de las Casas, has said the priest was shot dead by two gunmen when he was in his van.

Over the past few years, Chiapas has been an epicenter of economic interest in Mexico. The government implanted in the region — and in a few neighboring states — lines of an inte-oceanic train that connects passengers and goods from the Atlantic to the Pacific. That mega project includes the creation of ports, industrial parks and energy plants, which has drawn interest and companies from several parts of the country.

At the same time, a number of projects focusing on the extraction of minerals in Chiapas have been planned, despite opposition from local residents. Some involve the Canadian company Blackfire Exploration, which owns mines in Chiapas that extract baryte, titanium and magnetite. 
 
In 2006, Blackfire bought the mines and began to extract minerals without consulting the local Indigenous and peasant communities. The resistance to its operations grew fiercer and fiercer, til their most vocal critic, Mariano Abarca, was murdered in 2009. The state government closed the mine after that.

Oblate Fr. Eleazar López, a priest of Zapoteca origin who lives in Juchitán de Zaragoza, about 200 miles east of San Cristóbal, told the National Catholic Reporter that « the region was always seen as a provider of minerals and lumber, since colonial times. »

« That’s why it has been attracting those projects nowadays — it’s a reserve of wealth to look for when the economic system doesn’t see other ways to make a profit, » López said.

‘He gave his life for us. We, who lived with him, know and feel that he is a saint. Maybe the church will canonize him someday, but for us he’s already St. Marcelo.’
—Guadalupe Vásquez Luna

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He was friends with Pérez for several years. He emphasized that along with investors and companies came criminal organizations, and many activists say that at times those different agents act together. When an Indigenous community resists a mining project on its lands, armed bands may be called to dissuade the group — and that can be achieved through threats and violence.

Pérez had been facing threats for months. He was working as a vicar in Simojovel, but had to be moved to San Cristóbal de las Casas earlier this year after the seriousness of the threats increased. He told the local press then that a « price had been put on his head. »

As his activism to protect the Indigenous and the peasant communities countered the interests of powerful groups, the campaign against him grew more and more aggressive. Pérez was accused, among other things, of being a key member of Los Machetes, a self-defense armed organization created to protect the locals from the drug cartels’ actions.

« That was absurd. Everybody knew that Father Marcelo stood for peace in every situation, » Guadalupe Vásquez Luna, a Tsotsil woman and a member of the nongovernmental organization Las Abejas de Acteal (The Bees), told NCR.

Vásquez Luna is a survivor of the 1997 Acteal Massacre, when a paramilitary band attacked her town and killed 45 people, many of them women and children. The attack occurred 650 feet from an army barracks, but the troops claimed they heard nothing.

« The Mexican state wanted to show us that it would treat like that any Indigenous community that dared to stand up for its rights, » Vásquez Luna added. That incident, she noted, occurred only three years after the notorious Zapatista rebellion, when thousands of members of Indigenous groups formed an armed battalion to face violence from the state and private agents that wanted to control their lands and attempted to dominate cities in Chiapas.

Especially over the past couple years, Chiapas has faced a similar scenario. Armed groups have been invading Indigenous towns and forcing people to follow their orders. Threats and killings have become common. Earlier this year, hundreds of Indigenous peasants had to flee their traditional lands and move to Guatemala to save their lives.

The turmoil caused by the dispute for territory between two northern drug cartels has transformed the lives of people who had been living there since time immemorial. It also has impacted the local power structure of each town. The three Chiapas dioceses have denounced the situation on a number of occasions. The Catholic Church had even warned the Mexican government that Chiapas wouldn’t be able to hold this year’s elections because it was too unsafe.

The church has been a continuous ally of the Indigenous people and the poor in Chiapas for centuries. That alliance was reconfirmed by the late Bishop Samuel Ruiz Garcia, who between 1959 and 2011 (when he died) worked as the local bishop, always prioritizing the poor and the Indigenous groups.

Ruiz promoted the liturgical use of the local Indigenous languages and incentivized the peasant communities’ self-organization. For his great efforts to protect the Indigenous peoples, he earned the honorific title of jtatik, « our father » in Tseltal, one of the Mayan languages of Chiapas.

An estimated 2 million people in the region use their native Indigenous languages on a daily basis. Pérez, the priest killed Oct. 20, only learned to speak Spanish in his teenage years, during school.

« People would laugh about his difficulties and he became a stutterer, » López recalled. After a few years, however, « Pérez not only dominated the Spanish language but also the Western categories of thought, » he added.

Since 2007, the Diocese of San Cristobal de las Casas has been working on liturgical adaptations to bring the celebrations closer to the Mayan cultures. The changes, which include the adoption of dances during Mass, were approved by the Vatican earlier this month.

Missionaries like Pérez worked for a theological reflection that could take into account the Indigenous’ spiritual perspectives, López said. One of the fundamental principles of the Indigenous thought, he emphasized, is the idea of an existing harmony between human beings and the environment.

« Westerners think we’re not part of nature, but we are. That’s an ideology that favors the exploitation and the destruction of the common home, » he said. Pérez was victimized by the extremes of the Western colonial project, López said.

Mexico has become one of the world’s most violent countries. Former President Andrés Manuel López Obrador concluded his six-year tenure in September with almost 200,000 homicides. The previous administration, headed by Enrique Peña Nieto (2012-2018), had 150,000 homicides, and that of Felipe Calderón (2006-2012) counted 120,000 homicides. 

The sweeping waves of crime at times have directly impacted the clergy. In 2022, for instance, two Jesuit priests, Fr. Javier Campos, 79, and Fr. Joaquín Mora, 80, were murdered in Chihuahua by a local criminal. They worked in an Indigenous community in the mountains, an area said to be on a drug trafficking route to the United States.

The Mexican church launched a broad peace process after those priests’ killings, involving hundreds of nongovernmental organizations, public agents and intellectuals in a national dialogue against violence. Deep sociopolitical transformations were suggested to build peace, and such propositions were shared with presidential candidates earlier this year — including with current President Claudia Sheinbaum.

Part of such effort has been involving at times the direct participation of church members in the mediation of crises. Fr. José Filiberto Velázquez, who heads the Human Rights Center Minerva Bello in Guerrero state — which supports victims of violence and their families — has been one of the priests on the front line. 

For instance, Velázquez told NCR, in February he managed to promote a direct phone call between two drug lords in Chilpancingo after 10 days of terror in the city, caused by the conflict between two cartels. At least seven bus drivers had been attacked and killed by criminals, and people avoided leaving their homes for over a week. With the priests’ mediation, the cartels decided to leave the population out of their dispute and peace was reestablished.

That effort can be highly dangerous. Velásquez has been threatened on a number of occasions and his car was hit by bullets last year.

« Any person that somehow disturbs those who hold political, economic, or armed power, is under risk, especially those who defend human rights, the environment or the native people, » he told NCR.

« Those things happen here in Mexico, in Africa as a whole and in any other part of the world that is seen merely as a reserve of wealth by the imperialist nations, » he added. 

Since Pérez’s killing, the Indigenous people of Chiapas have organized several processions and marches. They demand justice and promise his death will not be forgotten.

« They thought they would silence us by taking out our head, which was Father Marcelo. But they killed the wrong person. He was the one who has awakened us, and now we’re not giving up that fight, » Vasquez Luna said.

She said that most people had feared that Pérez would be imprisoned by the government due to the false accusation that he headed the local self-defense militia. Many communities were ready to stage large protests for his release, she added.

« We knew he was facing several risks, but we couldn’t do anything. He gave his life for us. We, who lived with him, know and feel that he is a saint. Maybe the church will canonize him someday, but for us he’s already St. Marcelo, » she said.

Turning to the Blessed Virgin Mary in prayer

Catégories
Vie de l'église

Diagnosing where Democrats went wrong: Let’s start with heresy-hunting

The Democratic Party autopsies continue. Critically, the Democrats are now tagged as the party of the nation’s cultural elite, so the changes need to extend beyond the party’s leaders. The soul-searching must be more widespread. It won’t be easy.

Today, and over the next few Mondays, I plan to look at some of the deeper habits of thought that have come to characterize Democratic Party leaders and that need to change.

The first deadly habit the left has to forswear is its tendency to heresy-hunt. If you are hunting for converts, you are engaged in party-building. If you are hunting for heretics, you end up alienating people whose votes you need.

This heresy-hunting tendency is found to the nth degree in discussions of sex and gender. It is pretty obvious that transgender-related issues are replacing abortion as the principal totem in our culture wars. While former President Donald Trump barely mentioned abortion during the campaign, the GOP spent millions of dollars on an ad that highlighted old video of Vice President Kamala Harris indicating her support for gender-reassignment surgeries for prison inmates, paid for by the government.

The LGBTQ-rights group GLAAD profiled a report that the ads weren’t working.

The Harris campaign chose not to respond to the onslaught of ads.

Oops.

« Democrats spend way too much time trying not to offend anyone rather than being brutally honest about the challenges many Americans face, » Democratic Rep. Seth Moulton of Massachusetts told The New York Times. « I have two little girls, I don’t want them getting run over on a playing field by a male or formerly male athlete, but as a Democrat I’m supposed to be afraid to say that. »

We can debate the issue of trans athletes and high school sports another day. It is the phrase « as a Democrat I’m supposed to be afraid to say that » that identifies the heresy-hunting problem.

Sure enough, liberal elites soon proved Moulton’s point. Massachusetts Gov. Maura Healey accused Moulton of « playing politics » and added, « It’s important in this moment that we not pick on particularly vulnerable children. » The chair of Tufts University’s political science department reportedly contacted Moulton’s office and said the school would no longer place interns in the congressman’s office, although university officials quickly indicated that was not the case. GLAAD highlighted podcaster Jane Coasten’s response: « Scapegoating trans people isn’t it. Because it’s not just untrue, it is morally wrong. It is wrong to cast a group of people to the wolves because you want to pick up more votes with people who actually don’t care very much about trans people one way or the other. »

Why is it « playing politics » to call attention to moral qualms a lot of parents have about transgender athletes? Aren’t all children vulnerable? Why is voicing the concern Moulton raised the equivalent of throwing people to the wolves? Did he say, « and let’s be mean and vicious to trans kids »? No, no, no. The response to his comments reveals the face of heresy-hunting.

The bias extends beyond political elites. Here at the National Catholic Reporter, we follow Associated Press style. Its guidelines for language state, in part: « If surgery is involved, gender-affirming or gender-affirmation surgery. Do not use the outdated term sex change, and avoid describing someone as pre-op or post-op. » Whether biological sex is more important than socially constructed gender is the heart of the cultural debate. If journalism aims at objectivity, why does AP style pick a winner? How is this different from what Fox News does?

Alas, the people who set AP standards are part of the cultural elite. They have read, or been influenced by people who have read, Judith Butler, whose seminal work is at the root of much gender ideology. Most Americans, myself included, think Butler’s gender ideology is bonkers.

Heresy-hunting exists on other issues too. At the Nation, Kareem Elrafai accused New York Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez of « betrayal » after the progressive congresswoman’s speech to the Democratic National Convention. Her sin? She had praised the party’s nominee for « working tirelessly to secure a ceasefire in Gaza and bring the hostages home. »

Elrafai argued the Biden-Harris administration had not done enough to end the war between Israel and Hamas, but he aimed his venom at Ocasio-Cortez: « It would have been galling to see anyone engage in this fiction. But to see Ocasio-Cortez — a movement politician and a self-described democratic socialist — do so was a genuine blow. Worse: It was an outright betrayal. »

I do not believe the majority of Americans are anti-trans bigots, or that they are unmoved by the suffering of the people in Gaza. It is possible to be concerned that divorcing gender from biological sex holds potential dangers, and also take steps to accommodate the needs of those for whom the male-female binary does not correspond to their experience or feelings. It is possible to want the war in Gaza to stop without placing all the blame for civilian casualties on Israel.

Republicans’ hyperventilating about which bathroom can be used by Delaware’s incoming congresswoman, Sarah McBride, who is transgender, will backfire if they appear mean-spirited. I shudder to think what Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu will do once Washington is no longer counseling restraint.

Nonetheless, it is the GOP that won the trifecta. It controls the White House and both houses of Congress.

It is the Democrats who need to reimagine a way back into political relevance and power. They won’t get there by demanding an Ivy League orthodoxy on cultural issues from the American people. They won’t get there by hunting for heretics or condescending to those with differing or more traditional values.

The hold that cultural orthodoxy of the left has on the Democratic Party may be so strong, they may not get there at all.

Turning to the Blessed Virgin Mary in prayer

Catégories
Catholisisme

Christ, King of the Universe

(Solemnity of Christ the King-Year B; This homily was given on November 23 & 24, 2024 at Saint Augustine Church in Providence, Rhode Island; See Daniel 7:13-14 and John 18:33-37)  

Seeking the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary through prayer

Catégories
Vie de l'église

Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe: A kingdom not of this polemical world

Don’t you love the pictures we’re getting from the James Webb telescope? We might consider them pinhole glimpses of God’s view of the universe. Then, when we see how miniscule Earth appears in the grand scheme of things, God’s love for this little world of ours is beyond comprehension.

Two citations from John invite us into the paradoxical mystery of God and our world. In John 3:16, we hear, « God so loved the world. » And in John 18:36, Jesus says that his kingdom is not of this world. Is this a contradiction?

Philosophers of the New Testament era believed that the world was organized around polemos, which basically refers to power plays. When we look around, it seems that they were right. Kingdoms, nations, classes, teams and even siblings too often base their identity on winning in contests or conflicts.

That’s the world Jesus was talking about when he responded to Pilate about his kingdom. In the world of polemos, Jesus would not have gone down without a fight. But domination was not his way. Never!

What, then, are we celebrating when we call Jesus « the king of the universe »?

To start with, we can consult Daniel, a prophet whose message many see as referring to Jesus. In today’s first reading, Daniel sees one like a « Son of man » (a genuine human being) appearing before God to receive « dominion, glory, and kingship. » What do those look like in a kingdom not of this world?

How did Jesus demonstrate dominion? We get a glimpse of his dominion through the signs/miracles that he performed. The Gospel of Mark tells us that after winning a battle of wits with the tempter in the desert, Jesus’ first public act was to heal a man with an unclean spirit (Mark 1:21-28). Every « sign » that Jesus performed followed that pattern. He faced the demons afflicting his people and expelled them, attributing every miracle to the faith of the recipients.

We might say that when Jesus exercised dominion over evil, it was generally by awakening people’s faith. His dominion was invitational — he couldn’t help anyone who didn’t want to be helped.

What about Jesus’ glory? In John’s Gospel, Jesus’ glory reflects the greatness of God. Jesus insists that his is the glory of the one who sent him. Yet, his glory is obvious only to those who believe in him (John 1:12, 148:50).

If we asked John about how he saw Jesus as king, he would say, « Read my Gospel. » In his opening chapter, when Nathaniel called him the King of the Jews, Jesus replied that he had seen nothing yet — much bigger revelations were in store (John 1:49-51).

Later, when people wanted to make him king, Jesus fled from them because their hope centered on their stomachs, not their hearts (John 6). 

According to John, Jesus’ definitive revelation of his unworldly kingship happened in the events of his passion and resurrection. Jesus the King rode into Jerusalem on a donkey, not on a ruler’s horse. When Pilate asked him if he were the king of the Jews, Jesus’ answer was consistent with all he had said and done: « I am a king in a way you may never understand. »

Our selection from Hebrews sums up Jesus’ kingship with the opening line: « Jesus Christ is the faithful witness. » Jesus, the son of man, offers incredulous human beings a faithful reflection of God’s own power; he presents an image that is most certainly not of this polemical world.

Jesus said, « If my kingdom did belong to this world, my servants would be fighting for me. » This leaves us with the question, « What are we, his servants, supposed to do instead of playing by the rules of this world? »

If we want to participate in Christ’s unworldly kingdom, we need but follow the leader. Christ is the genuine human being, the son of humanity, because he is the image of his all-loving creator. He leads by attraction, never by imposition. Faith and love are the sole reasons for seeking to participate in his reign.

In his reigning among us, Christ offers a share of his glory, a glory that we can begin to comprehend and experience only in faith. It is unintelligible to those who choose to remain outside.

Christ the King invites us, not into an otherworldly experience, but into a transforming alternative to the world of polemics. Today’s feast poses one demanding question to us: « Do we want to bet our lives on the kingdom of God? » It’s an all or nothing choice.

Turning to the Blessed Virgin Mary in prayer

Catégories
Vie de l'église

Magdalene laundries are topic of new Cillian Murphy film ‘Small Things Like These’

An Irish-born coal vendor bedeviled by memories of a Dickensian childhood arrives at the local convent for a routine coal delivery. Bill Furlong has spent the last several nights nocturnal and restless, milling about the house, staring at streetlights and passersby. His five young daughters appear aloof to his troubles but Bill’s wife, Eileen, has taken notice. He is silent; she is suspicious.

After dropping off the coal shipment, Bill enters the convent to deliver an invoice. He is greeted by the sound of muffled screams and soon discovers young girls, terrified and disheveled, scrubbing floors like indentured servants. One girl runs towards Bill and begs to be saved, but her plea is interrupted by a Catholic sister who chastises him for entering unannounced. Back at home (and more disturbed than ever), Bill confides in Eileen about what he witnessed.

« It’s none of our business, » she says. « If you want to get on in this life, there are things you have to ignore. »

A moody, quiet storm of a film about secrets and those who keep them, « Small Things Like These, » based on the 2021 novel by Claire Keegan, thrusts a riveting Cillian Murphy (« Oppenheimer, » « Peaky Blinders ») into moral peril when family, acquaintances and respected women religious advise him to disregard what he has witnessed.

The film, set in 1985, melds fact and fiction regarding an appalling period in Irish and Catholic history: the decades-long operation of asylums-cum-slave camps where orphaned girls, abused women, sex workers and unwed mothers were cut off from society and forced to labor under prison-like, sometimes fatal, conditions.

After Eileen instructs him to forget his experience at the convent, Bill returns with a flashlight and finds an adolescent girl, Sarah, cowered in the corner of a locked shed. Through tears, she tells him her baby has been abducted. Naively, perhaps, he brings Sarah back to the convent, where the fearsome mother superior (a stern Emily Watson) attempts to buy his silence with an envelope stuffed with cash. Polite to a fault, he takes the money (« Yes, mother »), but tells Sarah to come find him later.

Murphy portrays Bill as a man teetering on the edge of crisis, trapped between the wounds of the past and the horrors of the present. He has no allies in this fight: A friend directs him to remain quiet about Sarah because « making a nuisance » could jeopardize his daughters’ education at the convent school. « These nuns have a finger in every pie, Bill, » she says. Taking matters into his own hands, Bill rescues a weakened Sarah from the convent and brings her home, uncertain what lies ahead.

At Ireland’s Magdalene laundries, a sprawling constellation of ramshackle institutions governed by Catholic nuns between 1922 and 1996, more than 10,000 women — many sent to the laundries by government officials — were « enslaved » under dismal conditions, as per a state report that collected data from 10 laundries. At its conclusion, the film cites an investigation into 18 « mother and baby » homes that confined « 56,000 unmarried mothers and about 57,000 children » during that same period. Girls as young as 9 and impoverished women impregnated by rape worked without pay or benefits for years while suffering brutish treatment under inhumane circumstances.

« They were called ‘Magdalenes’ or ‘penitents,’  » reported « 60 Minutes » in 1999. « They were supposed to wash away their sins along with the stains on the laundry of the orphanages and churches, prisons, even the local butcher shop. »

And then there were the deaths. In 1993, when the Sisters of Our Lady of Charity sold their north Dublin property for a hefty sum, the bodies of 133 women were found discarded in unmarked graves, prompting nationwide outrage and bringing renewed attention to abuses at the laundries. (An additional 22 bodies were later discovered at that same site.) The 2021 report on « mother and baby » homes delivered another sobering revelation: Some 9,000 children died in these institutions. Enda Kenny, the former prime minister of Ireland, offered a formal apology for the laundries in 2013.

« We put away these women because for too many years we put away our conscience, » he said in a parliamentary address.

But Bill Furlong is unable to put away his conscience, despite the warnings of others and threats of consequences. His moral sense provokes him into action. The film is not a history of the laundries, but a portrayal of one good deed that makes a difference, a « small thing » that carries extraordinary power and demands that all Catholics ask how we might do likewise. 

Turning to the Blessed Virgin Mary in prayer