Chevalier de la charité

Pope Francis sketched a broad peace plan for the twenty-first century in an address to an inter-religious summit here on Nov. 4, calling on world leaders to reject imperialistic and nationalistic impulses that he said lead to « child-like » wars, and, instead, to prioritize the needs of those on the margins.

While Francis did not name any world leaders directly, he warned of « bitter consequences » if the world continued to « persist in stubbornly imposing our own models and despotic, imperialist, nationalist and populist visions, if we are unconcerned about the culture of others, if we close our ears to the plea of ordinary people and the voice of the poor. » 

In off the cuff remarks during the 15-minute address to the summit, the centerpiece of his four-day visit to the Persian Gulf nation, Francis went on to call for an end to the war in Ukraine, pleading for serious peace negotiations to begin.

In the prepared portion of the speech, the pope railed against what he termed a « few potentates, » whom he said are « caught up in a resolute struggle for partisan interests. » The stakes, he warned, could not be higher, alluding, as he has done often in recent months, to the threat of nuclear war. 

« We appear to be witnessing a dramatic and childlike scenario, » said Francis. « In the garden of humanity, instead of cultivating our surroundings, we are playing instead with fire, missiles and bombs, weapons that bring sorrow and death, covering our common home with ashes and hatred. » 

« After two terrible world wars, a cold war that for decades kept the world in suspense, catastrophic conflicts taking place in every part of the globe, and in the midst of accusations, threats and condemnations, we continue to find ourselves on the brink of a delicate precipice and we do not want to fall, » he said. 

Francis was speaking in remarks to the « Bahrain Forum for Dialogue: East and West for Human Coexistence, » a gathering of some 200 various religious leaders held on the grounds of the country’s royal palace. 

The pope told those gathered there is only one choice for people of faith: to work together for peace and unity. « If we sail alone, we go adrift, » Francis said.

The pope arrived in Bahrain on Nov. 3, becoming the first pontiff to ever visit the kingdom. In an address that day to government officials, Francis urged the country to strengthen its commitments to human rights, especially by ending the death penalty and religious discrimination. 

Leading human rights organizations have charged the country’s Sunni-Muslim leadership of religious discrimination against its Shiite-Muslim majority population. They accuse officials of imprisoning and torturing political dissidents. 

Bahrain’s King Hamad bin Isa Al Khalifa, host of the inter-religious summit, has maintained that the country is resolved to being a beacon of human rights in the Middle East and committed to religious pluralism.  

During his speech at the closing session of the interfaith gathering on Nov. 4, Francis sought to nudge that commitment forward. 

« Any form of religious coercion is unworthy of the Almighty, since he has not handed the world over to slaves, but to free creatures, whom he fully respects, » said Francis, seated next to King Hamad. 

« Let us commit ourselves, then, to ensuring that the freedom of creatures reflects the sovereign freedom of the Creator, that places of worship are always and everywhere protected and respected, and that prayer is favored and never hindered, » he said. « It is not enough to grant permits and recognize freedom of worship; it is necessary to achieve true freedom of religion. »   

During his remarks, the pope also drew on the 2019 document on « Human Fraternity for World Peace and Living Together, » which Francis signed with Grand Imam Ahmad el-Tayeb of Al-Azhar, during the pope’s first ever visit to the Persian Gulf in the United Arab Emirates. 

The document is widely viewed as a major advancement in the Catholic Church’s relationship with the Muslim world, and among its notable declarations is a vehement rejection of terrorism and the use of religion to justify war and violence. 

In Bahrain, where Francis was again joined by el-Tayeb, the pope doubled down on those joint pledges. 

« It is not enough to proclaim that a religion is peaceful; we need to condemn and isolate the perpetrators of violence who abuse its name, » said Francis. « Nor is it enough to distance ourselves from intolerance and extremism; we need to counter them. »

In a venue with representatives of most of the world’s major religious traditions present, Francis said that the true measure of leadership is the attention they devote to the most marginalized in society. 

« The Creator invites us to act, especially on behalf of all those many creatures of his who do not yet find a sufficient place on the agenda of the powerful: the poor, the unborn, the elderly, the infirm, migrants, » said Francis.

« If we who believe in the God of mercy, do not give a hearing to the poor and a voice to the voiceless, who will do it?, » he asked. « Let us take their side. » 

Just like the United States of America, South Africa is not a perfect country. No such perfect place exists in this world. However, since spending several weeks in South Africa a few months ago I have found myself continuing to reflect on the opening sentence of its constitution and wondering what it would mean if the U.S. were to adopt a similar preamble.

To be clear, the current U.S. Constitution doesn’t have a terrible start. Its opening sentence reads:

We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

It’s a perfectly fine opening statement, and there are some genuinely positive elements here. Beginning with the people as the source of governmental authority and power, this opening line presents mostly a forward-looking or aspirational description of what the American founders hoped would succeed in replacing British monarchical rule.

Among the key priorities identified are unity, justice, tranquility, common defense, general welfare and civil liberty for those drafting the document and their descendants. At first glance, who could disagree with these priorities and commitments?

Having been born and raised in the U.S. I admit to taking this opening line for granted almost as much as I have the opening line of President Abraham Lincoln’s 1863 Gettysburg Address or other well-known documents like them. These are classics of American history, which we studied from elementary school onward. They appeared in my textbooks and on posters in many of my childhood classrooms.

But later in life, especially as I studied more of American history in high school and college — not just the exciting and positive dimensions, but also the more complicated and sometimes downright shameful ones — I found myself contextualizing better that opening line and asking some questions. For example, whose liberty was being secured or whose justice was being sought?

When the Constitution was ratified in June 1788, this didn’t include women, immigrants or enslaved Africans, nor did it include the native peoples whose lands were being unlawfully appropriated and reimagined as a new country in the name of « freedom. »

Like many others, I came to realize the incoherence of talking about constitutional « originalism, » realizing that despite the lofty rhetoric surrounding the founding of a new country, there was no recognition of either the price paid by oppressed and enslaved populations or acknowledgement of who was excluded from this ostensibly grand vision from the start.

I continue to be flabbergasted when a woman or Black Supreme Court justice, such as Amy Coney Barrett and Clarence Thomas, respectively, claim to espouse an originalist juridical hermeneutic. In both illustrative cases, there seems to be little consideration of the irony that the drafters and ratifiers of the Constitution would never have imagined (let alone permitted) women or people of color to have fundamental democratic rights like voting or property ownership, let alone serve on the highest court of the land.

This sort of observation is neither new nor particularly interesting, but it does help explain why I was so captivated by the opening sentence of the post-apartheid South African Constitution ratified in 1996. It reads:

We, the people of South Africa,
Recognise the injustices of our past;
Honour those who suffered for justice and freedom in our land;
Respect those who have worked to build and develop our country; and
Believe that South Africa belongs to all who live in it, united in our diversity.

While I don’t think it is in any way realistic to think that Americans are poised to amend our Constitution to include a statement such as this — a fantasy made all the more remote in an age of heightened political polarization and mutual distrust — I have allowed myself in recent months to consider what the implications of such an American statement might imply.

First, we would begin with acknowledging our national « original sins » of Indigenous genocide and chattel slavery. We could also add to that centuries of sexism, xenophobia, religious discrimination and other forms of « injustices of our past, » many of which persist and continue to harm still vulnerable communities. Such admission of « what we have done and what we have failed to do » should not appear strange to Roman Catholics who regularly pray the Confiteor at liturgy. And yet, there remains a strong resistance to even acknowledging these past injustices, let alone seeking atonement, especially from many Christians generally and Catholics in particular.

Second, while there would certainly be a place for honoring those who have served in the military and peacekeeping efforts here and abroad, we would also expand our recognition to include those pioneers for justice and inclusion who have not always been recognized but were often subjected to violence and even death because of their work. Those who have and continue to fight on behalf of LGBTQ inclusion, equal rights for women, civil rights for communities of color, justice for migrants and refugees, environmental activists and a whole host of others who have, as the South African Constitution puts it, « suffered for justice and freedom in our land. »

Third, instead of succumbing to tribalism and manifold forms of cultural and political polarization, perhaps we could « respect those who have worked to build and develop our country, » including our political representatives, educators, first responders, laborers, and all those who physically and metaphorically build and rebuild this place we all call home. Too much energy is spent by groups identifying who ought to be excluded, and too little respect is paid to those whose contexts and experiences may be different from one’s own.

My last reflection involves the last line of the South African text, which says that this country « belongs to all who live in it. » This includes those of various immigration status, those who practice different religions, those who think differently, those who love differently and those who vote differently. All who live here ought to have equal claim to the nation they call home. But the increased xenophobia and nationalism in the American context promotes the opposite condition.

The last line also includes the call to unity amid diversity. Difference is neither an error nor a weakness, but it is often presented as such by those seeking to galvanize political support in our country. Our differences should be seen as mutually enriching gifts given to us by God. Our unity shouldn’t come at the expense of another person or community’s dehumanization, vilification or dismissal. Our unity should be grounded in our shared origin as beloved creatures of an incomprehensively loving Creator.

While South Africa continues to struggle to live out this powerful constitutional vision, these beautiful words serve as a reminder of what is hoped for and may someday be more fully realized. But their existence was only made possible when the country launched efforts, imperfect as they were, to begin acknowledging the truth of an unjust past in order to strive toward the possibility of reconciliation someday.

We in the United States have not even taken the first step in such a direction and have only seen efforts to suppress the dangerous memories of our collective past increase with book bans and censorship. But I will not give up hope that another way is possible, even here in the U.S.

And the beauty of that one South African sentence bolsters me, as does the wisdom of St. Francis of Assisi who is remembered to have said to his fellow friars near the time of his death: « Let us begin, brothers, to serve the Lord God, for up until now we have done little or nothing. » It is never too late to begin again.

When the bishops gather in Baltimore for their annual plenary, one of the outstanding pieces of business will be deciding how they want to proceed with guidance for Catholics regarding politics. Will our wonderful, roomy, rich tradition of Catholic social thought be brought to bear on the text? Or will it be another trainwreck?

The current document is titled « Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship, » and the underlying text was adopted in 2007. It is difficult to object to the text in any particular: The section on poverty is really well done, as is the section on abortion. At the level of policy analysis, it is excellent.

The problem is that by getting into the policy weeds, it became overly long and, despite its title, minimized the role of conscience formation, especially for young people. The detailed, exhaustive iteration of policy in « Faithful Citizenship, » precisely because of its detail, comes off as too paternalistic. It is like an adult at dinner cutting up the meat for their teenage child.

No particular paragraph is « wrong, » but the whole suffers from a core misunderstanding: This kind of document is a good vehicle for recalling Catholic social teaching, not for teaching it in the first place.

In 2011, the bishops reissued the text with a new introductory note that included this fine sentiment: « [‘Faithful Citizenship’] does not offer a voter’s guide, scorecard of issues, or direction on how to vote. It applies Catholic moral principles to a range of important issues and warns against misguided appeals to ‘conscience’ to ignore fundamental moral claims, to reduce Catholic moral concerns to one or two matters, or to justify choices simply to advance partisan, ideological, or personal interests. »

Well said, but the bishops frontloaded all the issues on which they disagreed with the incumbent President Barack Obama, and failed to seize the really exciting opportunity to critique American capitalism — which had imploded in 2008 — by incorporating the insights drawn from Pope Benedict XVI’s encyclical Caritas in Veritate.

In 2015, the bishops again punted and kept the same text, albeit with an introductory letter that was obsessed with fighting same-sex marriage. Pope Francis had come to the United States and addressed a joint session of Congress, and he had not felt the need to mention same-sex marriage, but the bishops were fixated on the issue.

In 2019, the bishops punted yet again, this time adding the adjective « preeminent » to describe their concern with the issue of abortion, thus minimizing the role of conscience formation even further. Prioritizing which issues in a particular election, for particular offices, are most important is precisely the kind of prudential judgment that should be left to voters.

Now, it is time for the bishops to start from scratch. Since the underlying text was written, the magisterium of Pope Benedict XVI and Pope Francis has given us three encyclicals that have enriched and developed Catholic social teaching: Caritas in Veritate, « Laudato Si’, on Care for Our Common Home » and Fratelli Tutti. Both popes articulate a profoundly Christocentric and biblical focus in their social teaching, with Benedict focusing on the necessity of a theology of grace and Francis retrieving the idea of integral human development.

Just as importantly, the growth of social media has changed the way the church must communicate its teaching, especially for young people. In 2007, Twitter was 1 year old. Four years ago, the bishops decided to produce some videos related to « Faithful Citizenship » but they were dull. I wonder how many people watched them.

The major problem, however, is different. The current document runs to 43 pages of text, with an additional 10 pages of notes. No one reads it. And its exhaustive character suggests the U.S. bishops have done the heavy lifting on conscience formation. The text may claim it « does not offer a voter’s guide … or direction on how to vote » but the specificity of the text, combined with the extensive media coverage of the most outspokenly partisan bishops, belied the claim.

The Catholic bishops of England and Wales issued a two-page statement in 2017 in advance of that country’s general election in 2019. The Canadian bishops kept their statement to one page. The U.S. bishops should insist on a similarly short statement for 2024.

The bishops should also craft a single, concise paragraph about the need to protect democracy. That was not on anyone’s radar screen in 2007, but it is now. Catholic social teaching, originally ambivalent about democracy, developed a coherent and compelling defense of democracy, starting with the pontificate of Pius XII, a defense that our country needs to hear.

The final document should self-consciously avoid partisanship as much as possible. In this era of acute societal polarization, the most important two things the bishops can and should do are, first, remind Catholics that our values and beliefs transcend partisan divisions and, second, model the unity among themselves that they wish for the Catholic laity and for the whole society.

I do not wish to minimize the difficulty of those two tasks. But they cannot be solved by adding a new introductory text to a document from 2007. It is time for a new document, one that puts a greater emphasis on forming consciences, incorporates the key teachings of Benedict and Francis, that defends democracy per se, and with a priority on binding the wounds that currently divide our church and our country.