Theologienne

A divinity student blogs her faithful, progressive Catholicism.

Thursday, September 29, 2005

The Spirit wonderfully at work in Boston

Sometimes, just when you get to despairing about the future of the Church, you hear these rumblings underground.

Two Boston priests refused to support a Massachusetts church drive for an anti-gay-marriage referendum("Priest pulled after refusing to support anti-gay marriage push - Boston.com".) Now, you know there were other Boston priests who, for reasons of charity toward outcasts or sharing a wonderful sacrament or simple church-state separation thought this was a bad idea. And throughout the state those priests damned the referendum with faint praise or genteely ignored it or spent their sermon talking around the theoretically good reasons for it or about how, you know, sometimes the Church moves slowly. But Father George Lange and Father Stephen LaBaire, they posted an clear-as-day announcement in their church bulletin: "The priests of this parish do not feel that they can support this amendment. They do not see any value to it and they see it as an attack upon certain people in our parish, namely those who are gay." The archdiocese forbid Father Lange from presiding for the week. God bless these two brave men.

You may already have heard of Father Walter Cuenin, whom Boston's Archbishop O'Malley forced to resign in what many saw as punishment for speaking out against bishops' coverup of sex abuse some years ago Priest sacrificed on altar of arrogance - The Boston Globe. Now it turns out Fr. Cuenin may be a worse sinner than we thought: it appears he allowed his flock to support fair treatment of gays! Letter may shed light on ouster of pastor - The Boston Globe. The peace and justice group at Our Lady Help of Christians, which sounds like an inclusive parish, righteous in the true Wayne's World sense of the word, decided they would like their parish to attend Gay Pride to show Catholic support for gay and lesbian people. They put an announcement in the bulletin. Heads are, belatedly, rolling.

Look at the love and trust expressed in these articles by the parishioners of Frs. Lange, LaBaire and Cuenin. Clericalism can't fake that kind of leadership.

Seems the free-speech battles of our age will be fought in folded two-sheets with mortuary ads on the back.

Let us pray for more brave and Spirit-led Catholics to come forward to deny the Church when it is wrong, and to stay with it until it is right.

God of Justice, your servants Father Lange, Father LaBaire and Father Cuenin spoke out against their beloved Church when it tried to wrong the people of God. Bless them and raise up others like them to build an open, inclusive, holy Church, to usher in the reign you promise us. Give us eyes to see when dissent is needed and brave hearts to do what you need us to. In Jesus' name, let it be done. Amen.

U. S. Labor Department Action Helps Hurricane Victims Access 401(k) Plans

U. S. Labor Department Action Helps Hurricane Victims Access 401(k) Plans

Who said the Bush administration doesn't care about the dispossessed?

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

A Wilde Spirit Seeking A Home

I just happened upon an article detailing something that surprised me: Oscar Wilde was always drawn to the Catholic church, and converted to Catholicism on his deathbed ("The Long Conversion of Oscar Wilde", Andrew McCracken.) When he left Newgate Prison after two years hard labor for the crime of sodomy, Wilde's first act--before reuniting with his lover--was to write to the local Jesuit house asking permission to make a six-month retreat. Sadly, they turned him down. (A sad occurrence not so much for Oscar Wilde's soul, which I place confidently in the hands of God, but for the Jesuits, who missed the chance to make Ignatian spirituality the Victorian Kabbalah by transforming a famous public sinner.)

Oscar Wilde's one-liners define him as a hedonistic and shallow man, but much of his work points to a nuanced fascination with the spiritual, even specifically with Catholicism. Finding McCracken's article sent me gratefully back to Wilde's beautiful children's allegory The Selfish Giant. (There's a certain amount of Victorian sappiness to be gotten over here. Look again: the moral is not just that if you do nice things, Baby Jesus will love you. The way Spring returns to the giant's garden more subtly illustrates the action of grace: when it's missing, we feel it deeply, though we may not even know what's wrong. God sends a small gift to us first, when we least expect it, and our positive response helps grace flower.) The play Salome, difficult and heady-in-the-sense-of-drink, is completely different from Wilde's sparkling farces and from his neatly packaged children's tales. It could only have been written by someone who revered the liturgy's poetry and who understood the power of true saints to fascinate and to frighten.

Thanks to McCracken for reminding us that being Catholic in Wilde's England had more revolutionary connotations than we might now conjure up. Under Victoria, Catholics still had a somewhat murky social status--so Irish, dear--and, McCracken seems to imply, were perceived as somewhat embarrasingly aesthetic in worship and priorities. That's an appeal anyone can see Wilde embracing. We owe it to ourselves to explore his search for holy truth; Wilde has given us much more than perfect comedies.

P.S. Next time you're looking for something sensational to read on the train, you can point your browser right to theologienne.com. Yes, you're already here and don't need the link, but I did so enjoy typing it.

Seminarian: Celibacy is a charism, not a duty

The other day I was talking to a seminarian from the developing world, someone who'll soon have to undergo a bunch of psychological inquiries as part of the apostolic visitation/pointless gay hunt. The rights of gays in the church came up, and he pointed out that in the context of religious orders, celibacy is spoken of as a gift or charism which only some have: it constitutes a calling insofar as we're all called to use the gifts we're given. "Requiring [gays] to be celibate," he said, "is forcing them to do something they don't have the gift for." When you've gladly chosen to remain celibate in a way you think God will help you to do because you've chosen to commit yourself to community life, it must be hard to see your choice imposed like a punishment on people who don't choose it and won't respect it. The worse and more deeply personal version of the composer teaching piano to truculent kids with tin ears.

Ta-da, redesign! Ya like it? More importantly, can you read it?

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

"Fiery liberal" and Benedict reunite

I didn't tell you I was meeting the Pope? Ha, ha.

From the National Catholic Reporter:

Hans Küng and Pope Benedict, old friends and archrivals, have a cordial meeting

In a dramatic gesture of reconciliation, Pope Benedict XVI met Sept. 24 with his former colleague and longtime nemesis, Swiss Catholic theologian Hans Kü�ng, a fiery liberal who once compared then-Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger with the head of the KGB in his capacity as the Vatican's top doctrinal enforcer.

In 1979, Kü�ng's license to teach Catholic theology was revoked by Pope John Paul II, a decision in which Ratzinger played a role as a member of the German bishops' conference. In the years since, Kü�ng has been a leading critic of both many of the doctrinal positions espoused by Ratzinger, and the investigatory procedures by which they are enforced.

During a four-hour session that stretched over dinner, the two men essentially agreed to disagree on doctrinal matters. The pope offered warm praise for Kü�ng's efforts to foster dialogue among religions and with the natural sciences, while K�üng expressed support for the pope's commitment along the same lines.

When two camps within Catholicism can produce such Christian behavior, it seems we might be doing okay after all. Think about it. If your former friend barred you from pursuing your deeply felt calling, would you still meet? If your esteemed colleague began to denounce the basis of your ideological framework, would you have him for dinner?

P.S. Now we know who Hans Küng is.

Monday, September 26, 2005

Corpse Bride: spiritual art?

I saw Tim Burton's Corpse Bride this weekend. It's like Edward Scissorhands in hiding good thoughtfulness under gore and pop-culture jokes, and surprised me with one of the most beautiful and unabashedly spiritual images I’ve ever seen in a film. (In case you plan to see Corpse Bridge for the plot and not the graphics, be warned: spoilers herein. Bookmark this and come back when you’ve seen it!)

Basically, it’s about a young man who, on the eve of a parentally-imposed-but-mutually-welcomed marriage, accidentally proposes vows to an animate female corpse. (For metaphysical intents and purposes, the corpses function as ghosts—souls who haven’t made it anywhere else yet—except that instead of the classic sinking-through-the-floor jokes, you have maggot-ridden-flesh jokes, which aren’t quite as grisly as they sound.) Backed by a ghoulish canon lawyer, the corpse, Emily, chases Victor around declaring love; he tries to trick her so he can get back to his living bride, Victoria; a baddie pops up to try to wed Victoria by force; and everything works out in the end.

The image I loved is at the end of the movie. Victor, who thought Victoria was shackled to the baddie, had come to admire Emily and was prepared to kill himself so he could marry her with right intent in the underworld. But Emily releases him, saying she herself had been released by Victor’s willingness to love her. As the living lovers and the dead congregation celebrate, Emily steps into the moonlight door of the church and, with a thankful sigh, dissolves into a cloud of butterflies.

At the beginning of the movie, Victor sketched a butterfly imprisoned in a bell jar. Just as its fluttering began to falter from lack of air, he lifted the cover and let it fly out into the sky. The journey that followed brought him freedom and joy in a marriage he had feared. Emily’s “release” refers to this image and enlarges it, keeping us from suspecting that any one butterfly might be Emily in a different form, but leaving us with no doubt that a part of Emily will continue.

In the film, Emily’s body, though built after Hollywood standards, was crumbling and decaying and sometimes a burden. Her graceful exit showed her comfort at leaving the body and her trust that her spirit would not be destroyed. It made me envy her her peace. In a film so honestly and ridiculously supernatural, a moment that could have been just another magic trick seemed like the natural course of life, in the most fortunate of possible cases.

Friday, September 23, 2005

A sad state of (international, intellectual, religious) affairs

All right, listen up, this may not be as sexy as gay priests, but it's important. Foreign Policy has compiled a list of the "100 leading public intellectuals" alive and working today, and they want you to pick the top five. Three religious thinkers made the list (for comparison, there are two "polemicists", which is actually a cooler job title than "theologian", do you think I should . . . Anyway.) We've got Benedict XVI, who did much to shape JPII's long and influential papacy, but assuming the assessment's being made on the influence of ideas published in his own name (a reasonable enough criterion in judging intellectuals) I see this as a pro-forma hat tip to show that FP isn't anti-God like most of those other thinkers. Christian theologian Hans Küng is on the list; from the amount I've heard about his importance, I'm not going to argue with that--weak, I know. The Iranian scholar Abdolkarim Soroush, a religious theorist, is the third list member who strikes me as a theological or religious thinker: Gilles Kepel and Tariq Ramadan, both described as "scholars of Islam," could round the tally to five.

Do you see what the problem is? It isn't just that the brainy pursuit of God's truth is the most wonderful and compelling activity in the world, and that I would like to see all monthly publications recognize that. It isn't that feminist theology, the threatening and liberating and invincible contribution to religious thought that will make our century stand out several more from now, isn't represented. (Well, that is the problem, but more later.) The problem isn't that one of the most influential 100 thinkers currently working in the world is apparently author/journalist Christopher Hitchens. No; the problem, and the reason I need you all to pull together and help out here, is this: no one at Foreign Policy has ever heard of Gustavo Gutierrez.

Casting aside for the moment the chilling implications for the education in international relations of our nation's youth, I would like to breathe a small sigh for the church, which scintillates with energy, talent, and Spirit-given inspiration, some of the best of which flies bang over the head of the people who toil at political glossies based in Washington, D.C. Those of us who don't should blush a little, too: obviously we aren't talking about our great thinkers loudly enough or in the right places. The founder of liberation theology, the radical priest who listened to the voices of the local prayer groups, the social justice advocate and meritorious advantage-taker of Vatican II's restoration of experience to theological practice, Gustavo Gutierrez, very much alive and kicking and teaching at Notre Dame, not influential, not known in Washington, not quite ranking up there with novelist Ha Jin? Shame. This is ridiculous.

And if you'd like to cast your write-in for an emblematic feminist theologian--sure to give you more to preen about decades from now than throwing your weight behind Umberto Eco--I'm ready for you. I couldn't decide who of a few grande dames of God wielded the most public influence (public intellectuals, remember?) so I did a highly scientific Googlefight. I now have data to support my vote for Elizabeth A. Johnson. Who is she? Only the reason any Catholic today dares to name God as female. What I'm saying is, she's no Naomi Klein or anything. Eh, Foreign Policy?

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Not freedom from pain; but from pain, freedom

Not all academic theology is dry, obscure, and conducted in German. I read a peace-giving and inspiring passage today in one of my assigned tomes (although this one is fairly portable and really more of a tomatillo.) The author holds that our human fear and pain supply both our need and our mandate for struggling to understand God, for "doing theology."
We do theology as wounded people, sometimes because of our wounds. . . Our deepest wound is the fact that we do not want to be healed. The famous German-American psychologist Erich Fromm talked about our "escape from freedom." Fromm said that we are afraid of being liberated because freedom means responsibility . . . Similarly, we are afraid of being touched by God. God could upset our lives, plans, and projects. Healing can be painful. We are afraid of saying, truly from the heart, "Thy will be done." Ignatius of Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits, remarked that most of us have ho idea who we could be if we surrendered totally to God.

God wants to heal our wound without making them magically disappear. The wounds are still there, like the wounds of the risen Lord. But they might become origins of growth and springs of new life. We do theology not because of hope in a magincally liberated sorrow-free and happy life. We do theology because we hope that wounds may be the source of our strength, that the cross may be the source of new life. That is why we need to be aware of our needs, and we need to see the wounds of our people.
--Clemens Sedmak, from Doing Local Theology: A Guide for Artisans of a New Humanity

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Visitation will stomp dissent as well as gays

In the wake of the news that the Vatican will bar gay priests, bishopaccountability.org has published the official instructions to the visitation teams who will examine students and schools. It's available here, but if you're not up to Catholic legalese at the moment, check out their website and their critique, quoted below:

  • Sexual Abuse Ignored - The sexual abuse crisis, which is the reason for the seminary visitations, is nowhere mentioned in the document.
  • Homosexuality Scrutinized - The reference to homosexuality (para. B.4.3), which has prompted so much comment, is not the only allusion in the document to this issue (see, for example, the mention of “particular friendships” in para. B.6.10 and the reference to the Vatican’s Pastoral Care of Homosexual Persons in para. B.7.4).
  • Elimination of Dissent Emphasized - The issues of proper supervision and “dissent” (e.g., para. B.2.7) are more prominent than homosexuality in the guide. For example, the “Visitors” to each seminary are to check that moral instruction is based on certain Vatican texts, including the birth-control encyclical Humanae vitae (see para. B.7.4).
  • Secrecy Enforced - The seminary Visitors (many of whom appear to be American bishops, some with a bad track record during the crisis) are bound by pontifical secret (para. A.2.9). --www.bishopaccountability.org


I do not intend ever to let this blog become a one-issue forum, but you have to understand that 90% of my friends are either gay or seminary students. I tremble to see what the fallout of this papal decision will be for the people and the church I love.

Pope approves barring gay seminarians

So much for my hopes. Well, come to Theologienne for your progressive faith jolt; go elsewhere for your Vatican oddsmaking.

Pope approves barring gay seminarians--Catholic World News

Nice one, Ratz.

Some Day . . .

The Archdiocese of New York is seriously looking into recommending Catholic Worker Dorothy Day for sainthood ("
Group Formed to Promote Canonization of Dorothy Day"). This is extremely exciting. Nobody can argue with Dorothy Day's worth in what she was: a radical advocate for the poor and for peace, someone who inhabited her message thoroughly, living with the poor she served until the end of her life. Her sainthood would be a worthy message to the church also, though not foremost, because of the things she was not: a virgin, a nun or a married-person-living-continently (for Pete's sake), like the overwhelming majority of JPII's new saints. Dorothy Day was a single mother with a troubled moral history which she had the integrity not to hide. After her conversion to Catholicism, her writings reflected both a humble awareness of human frailty and a quiet confidence in God's grace. She never allowed herself to believe that even a former Communist who had had an abortion might not have a radically Christian purpose to live out in life.

I liked Cardinal O'Connor's motivation for pursuing the canonization: "I don't want to have on my conscience that I didn't do something that God wanted done." Worthy to strive for: maybe none of us have a perfect record in that regard, but an omission that serious would be tough to live with indeed.

Monday, September 19, 2005

A gift of grace in a Sunday sermon

I thought I'd found an opportunity to teach back to the hierarchy today, but as God is or surprises, I ended up learning. Today's Gospel was about the laborers in the vineyard--some hired for the full day, some for just an hour, but all paid the full day's wage. The priest used it to speak about the greatness and overabundance of God's love for us. He asked us to imagine, and some of us to remember, the joy that a mother feels when her child is placed in her arms. He went on to talk about how no matter how many children they have, parents love them all greatly, and then said, "Think back to the mother holding her newborn baby. God is that mother, and He loves us all that much." It was one of those weird linguistic moments our tradition sometimes causes. So I rolled my eyes, but I was still so pleased at the extended female metaphor. This is a perfect situation to use it, where God-as-Father would have different connotations for most people than a recently delivered mother delighting in her child. So I went up to the priest after Mass, which always makes me feel a bit like teacher's pet. For some reason, I never imagined that his female metaphor had been conscious; I guessed he'd seen it as simply the obvious choice, and expected puzzlement at my reaction. But when I said "I appreciated your feminine image for God--like to hear more of that," his eyes lit up in recognition and he said "Thank you." Shame on me for my smug assumptions. Praise God for what became a twofold gift of grace.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Banning gay priests, smothering sexuality, silencing scholarss, losing the Sacraments: happy Thursday!

One of the attendant concerns of being a public Catholic is that every time a story like this drops (Vatican to Check U.S. Seminaries on Gay Presence) people who are generally kind and nonconfrontational march up to you, shove clippings in your face, and demand "So what about THIS?"

It's a good question. What about shaming and stigmatizing good gay priests who've been "celibate for 10 years or more?" What about refusing the vocations of gay men as a priest shortage cripples the life of the Church? What about witch-hunting seminary instructors who "disagree with Church teaching"--how does that express trust in God who gave us free will and who orders the future? Yes, what is there to say?

I tend to prepare a little statement in these situations, and here it is. The proposed Vatican document banning the ordinations of gays that this article mentions has been "proposed" for a good two years, and the Times has been raising regular alarms each time it boils back up to the surface. Progressive Catholic media, on the other hand, are generally waiting for something new to actually happen on this. The reason it's been on the simmer for as long as it has, I believe, is that Rome as a whole is unwilling to publish a document banning the ordination of gay priests. Perhaps it's pragmatism in the face of Eucharistic famine for parishes, perhaps it's Christian tolerance. (To those who snippily default to the former, I'd point out that such pragmatism would tend to recommend, at the very least, allowing priests to marry, which is nowhere near "proposed" at present. So we may allow ourselves to believe that the cardinals are unwilling to further alienate gay Catholics, which is water in the desert, for sure.) OK, the apostolic visitation of seminaries is news that is happening now, but it'll be a few years before they find anything and more before their findings are acted upon.

I learned in divinity school this week that "seminaries" are technically diocesan institutions to train up diocesan priests. My school, which forms diocesan and ordered religious and lay students (huzzah), is not technically a seminary, therefore, but we're being visitationed this fall nonetheless. They're putting a positive spin on it around school, pointing out that the visit reflects concern, in the wake of the abuse crisis, about how priests are being formed and what they're learning about sexuality. How different a framing than the Times', right, and how appropriate: it's neither politic nor pastoral to be like, "Shit, the bishops are coming!" I hope we'll show them that high-quality inquiry might permit some disagreement with the magisterium, and that a healthy understanding of one's sexuality is integral to healthy personhood, is integral to good ministry.

If the Vatican publishes their document, which I still have hope to doubt, I don't think it'll keep many gay men out of the priesthood. It will throw gay priests under a constant shadow of fear, knowing that any personal adversary has a Church-sanctioned weapon to use against them. It will further stigmatize and embitter gay and lesbian Catholics, both vowed and lay, who live their sexuality in healthy and faithful ways. It will cause a sad waste in the souls of young men being trained for the priesthood. Without a doubt, we'll see that newly formed priests will be taught to subsume and ignore and be scared of their sexuality. Like pedophiles. They won't be taught to accept and befriend and learn how to own their sexuality--as faithful celibates and faithful members of couples have forever done.

We don't expect straight celibates to hide the trappings of their sexual and gender identity. Who we are as a sexual, gendered being is expressed in the things we enjoy, the way we see our roles, and above all the way we interact with people in ways that are impossible to hide or deny. (Think about the workplace for most of us: we are expected to function as essentially sexless beings because of the danger of creating a hostile environment, but we'll still form friendships, and perhaps pay close attention, along the gender lines that we frequent after hours.) The notion of having any sort of ministers who are not celibate men is so new to Catholics that many of us aren't prepared to think about what an integrated sexuality in ministry looks like: we've only seen the one example and have nothing to compare it to. This will change as lay men and women gain greater exposure in ministry, and would change radically if more straight or gay priests and nuns felt comfortable speaking about how their own sexuality exists in their personhood and in their ministry. I had the good fortune once to receive spiritual direction from an openly gay Episcopal monk who talked about the challenges that had come with being accepted in his religious community, how being a minority made him more sympathetic to the dispossessed and to people who struggle against their sexuality, and how ultimately he came to know that his worth to God was more fundamental than even sexuality. He was literally the happiest and most peaceful person I've ever met.

If this document is published, and if it speeds the priestly drought, Catholics will become very good at counting backwards. There are seven sacraments for men, six for women, five for lesbians. Five for gay men as well, if the priesthood, at least on paper, closes to them. With fewer and fewer priests in parishes around the world, the Eucharist is already slipping through some Catholics' fingers. Which sacrament will be next to go?

Keep Your Patriotism Off Their Atheism

New York Times:Judge Rules Reciting Pledge in Schools Is Unconstitutional

Requiring students to say the words "under God" forces a religious act, according to a federal judge. Soon, an injunction could stop California schoolkids from saying the pledge on these grounds. Sure, it'll be contested and no doubt bump all the way up to the Supreme Court, and I hope they'll rule as Judge Karlton did. The Pledge as is violates the Constitutional guarantee of religious freedom, but more importantly, God is too precious to be bandied about in a civic rite. So they can keep their public fealty off my private deity . . . Okay, I'll stop.

In the Catholic student center at my college, our chaplains had an odd piece of art hanging: it represented several nationalistic slogans: Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite; Pravda Vitesi (excuse my lack of accents aigu and Cyrillic font); dulce et decorum est pro patria mori; and In God We Trust. I couldn't quite figure out what this was supposed to convey, but I suspected a sentiment akin to my own: to show how God is co-opted in American political symbolism for purposes no greater than those pursued by other, potentially hostile, governments. It's funny that without the Kremlin slogan (especially in that Catholic context) I would have been nearly sure it was meant as mere inspirational propaganda, and grossly out of place in a house of prayer.

The church my cousins attend will sing patriotic songs for the recessional on national holidays, and since we tend to visit them on holiday weekends, we've heard more than our fair share of "America the Beautiful" resounding from the pews. I wonder why the GIRM permits this, if in fact it does. Why not remain aloof and above national allegiances, since love for God should always come first and God is for the world?

Let's pray, as religious patriots, that church and state will link only in the persons of those who serve both, not in policies which are demeaning to both, because against the principles of each. If elected president before all this gets resolved, I won't be forcing my non-religious constituents to follow suit. Nope, my legislation will stay far away from your meditation. Promise.

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Pink, punk and pro-chastity


If Gwen Stefani and Janet Reno sent their love child to Loyola . . . PinkNun.com is run by a performance artist (apparently not a member of a vowed religious order, but hey) who got fed up with cultural commodification of sex, sexual violence, women and men feeling like they had no choice but to have sex, and all the other BS. Her solution: don a fuschia habit and promote a radical message of sexual continence as sign of and pathway to self-respect. Though Christian in origin, her message has wings in all directions, and seems to have made a particular splash in alternative communities. (You talk about punk cred: bump-toe, lug-sole guru John Fluevog designed a shoe inspired by the Pink Nun. Sigh. The day American Apparel drops the Theologienne tank top, my life will be complete.)

What I like about the site, aside from the sky-high camp factor and the links to feminist groups, is that the Pink Nun talks a good game. Unlike the McDonald's of abstinence programs, Silver Ring Thing, Sr. Pink doesn't hurry past why not to how not or, mostly, who else (everyone) is not. Actually, I wouldn't even characterize her message as "why not to"--it's more of a positive choice for self-respect and responsible behavior to self and others. Unlike icky critical-mass abstinence movements (here's a sweet parody that gives you the idea) Pink doesn't try to convince you that all the cool kids are doing what she says. She readily acknowledges that abstinence as self-respect is radical and that any culture as if sex were sacred will be a counter-culture. That's a huge part of her appeal. Furthermore, she's honest. By the grace of God, I hail from a state where sex ed involved educating kids about sex, not importuning them about why not to do it. But I bet no Texas sed ed tax sink musters like Sister on the perennial teen question of "How far, then?" (Her answer, reprinted by Theologienne for your edification: "When you're panting.")

The good Sister's tactics, not all as tongue-in-cheek as one might expect, include publishing personal testimonies, civil disobedience (printable anti-porn graffiti stickers) and anti-pressure slam poetry (sample lyric: "You do a little ditty/So you can pet my kitty;" and believe me when I'm telling you this is tame; check the rest out for yourself). One quibble: such a bold crusader should be ready to say more about homosexuality than basically "My ministry is for straight people." I suspect that's Pink's way of negotiating her social location in the (apparently evangelical) Christian and feminist communities, but speak out, Sister: whichever side you end up against might be called to listen by their respect for your ministry. Other than that: a pro-sex, pro-chastity message that encourages the voices of women and the concerns of men, wrapped in all the ridiculousness and dignity so human a topic demands? (waves hand frantically) Ooh, ooh! Sister, Sister!

Monday, September 12, 2005

Bishops' conference on the morality of trade agreements

The next time somebody tells you that the Catholic Church never does anything but carp about sex and its outcomes, tell them stuff like this goes on all the time. It just doesn't make the news when leaders of banks, governments, and three major faiths meet to discuss the moral issues of international trade. Of course, this happened a tetch late to organize any sustained Catholic opposition to CAFTA, but that, as well, is vintage Catholicism.

I'll be excited to see any episcopal communications that may be the fruit of this discussion: the U.S. bishops generally give us well-educated, pious and most readable reflection. On a more waspish note, I'm sure they'll prepare glossy bulletin inserts on international trade, too, with pictures of adorable babies, that will be available on the very index page of the bishops' web site, because international trade, you see, is a moral issue that the faithful electorate have power over, just like all those sex-and-its-outcomes bugaboos . . . Ah well . . .

Thanks for your comments--keep them coming! I particularly liked my reply to O.E. Parker's comment to the last post on this page, if you're looking for something to read tonight.

Friday, September 09, 2005

On the other hand, at least no one's calling them "aliens"

I don't know if you're tired of hearing about Katrina-related matters in this space, but I find myself gripped by fear that, if we as citizens and as the media leave it aside, this story will be gone forever, the audacity of a government forgetting to save its poor will be forgotten, and no good, not even hope for the future, will be born from this tragedy. This is a religion blog, too, and it's not surprising that I think of the Bible when reading of the Biblical scale of suffering in the Gulf, of Jesus' social justice teachings when reading of the magnitude of charity that will be needed, and of God's promise of transcendence when life from weather to the government seems sordid and senseless. So here we go again with Katrina, for whatever good it may do her survivors, for the good I hope it may do any of you.

The latest religion-linked Katrina story to catch my eye had to do with a drama over what to call those who made it out alive. Certain media outlets are publicly eschewing the word "refugees", saying it carries all sorts of negative connotations, from being beggars to being, er, not American. (First off, must we really admit in print that anyone takes "not American" as a slur? They do have the Internet in other countries, you know.)

John Kass--a Tribune columnist who does an excitingly good job of picking out the heart of an issue--pointed out that the media's words and images matter little to those who fled Katrina, and to those who died. True. But I think I'm going to join the language police's volunteer search party on this one: we can do better than "refugee" for our displaced countryfolk. Here's why:

For one thing, educated people in the US (a group tacitly assumed to include most members of the media and of the government) show respect by deferring to an individual's choice in naming identity. The glaring exception occurs when you want to challenge someone's beliefs or their right to a title. Full-figured differently-learning sanitation engineers are A-OK, but nobody calls you "pro-choice" or "pro-life" unless they're on your side. We respect people by calling them what they think they are, which means, despite my blathering, that is is somewhat insulting to be associated with non-Americans if you want to claim your rightful pride in American citizenship. If you buy the contention of Prof. Melissa Harris-Lacewell in the linked Tribune article that "refugee" carries a connotation of someone seeking help from a government not their own, its use in the Katrina context does de-Americanize citizens and perhaps implies that our sending aid to them is an extreme form of charity, rather than a country taking care of its own.

Countries take care of their own; families take care of their own; peoples take care of their own; when it comes to those who are "other" than us, we need to be reminded, our charity sometimes needs to be piqued. Who could forget the resonance of Leviticus: "When an alien resides with you in your land, do not molest him. You shall treat the alien who resides with you no differently than the natives born among you; have the same love for him as for yourself; for you too were once aliens in the land of Egypt. I, the LORD, am your God." (19:33-34). We've seen the spots on the love this country can show to those who come here fleeing poverty. Inattention, discrimination and deportation--the ultimate sin against hospitality--show how far we have to go to reach that Levitical ideal of loving the refugee as we love our own.

Media word-mangling won't matter much to Katrina survivors, but the messages the words convey are for us, not them. Those of us reading the papers are in a position to help, and need to be reminded that our sisters and brothers are suffering. Why not couch the reminder in just those terms--words that emphasize our closeness and our duty to them, instead of comparing them to strangers? Sure, we like to think that we help strangers with a will, and we sometimes do. But many of our hearts house a very human preference for helping one's closest ones. Katrina survivors have that closeness, and they deserve to claim it.

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Why ignore hurricane victims when you could help your friends profit off them?

National Organization for Women president Kim Gandy pointed out on Sept. 5 that Bush buddy Pat Robertson's Operation Blessing was one of the top three hurricane relief charities on the FEMA website ("Katrina: Now It's Personal".) When I checked today, any connection to the pugnacious preacher had been whisked away, replaced by two nonpartisan clearinghouses Network for Good and NVOAD, and by the Red can't-argue-with-that Cross. Though not a NOW party-liner by any means, I believe the Bush camp is capable of finding a silver lining to Katrina, one that jingles pleasantly in supporters' pockets. And it's always amusing when somebody's hoist on the information they themselves have made public.

But then I thought, nah, the change in the charity list had to be a coincidence. Good find, Ms. Gandy, but I kinda doubt the Bushies knew you knew.

Someone at the White House reading NOW's website?

Ho. Ho. Ho.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Theology: an "unnecessary" blessing

I attended the first theology class of my graduate career today, and managed to make myself look a bit of a tool. We were discussing the "art" of theology, a conversation that began with us volunteering things we think of when we think of art. My contribution was "unnecessary." Now really, I'm not such a Philistine as that. I didn't mean unnecessary to a happy life or a great society or a productive struggle, or anything, really. But surely I'm not the first to note (though I didn't say it this well) that art is an improved, running-over, just plain better version of everyday processes that are necessary to sustain life. You need to have sound: the world produces it, but if that sound is music, that's a gift. We need to move, but dance is a grace. You need words, but not fiction or poetry; clothing, but not style; objects, but not beautiful ones; and on and on. Art is a gift for the doer and the consumer precisely because it represents an excess of talent and resources compared to those needed for the basic, everyday versions of the processes that art is. I don't think that statement contradicts the principle that some form of creative expression or enjoyment of beauty might indeed be necessary to sustain any form of life with dignity. In fact, it honors the art if you recognize that you could, theoretically, have done it prosaically, but that skill and ability and grace led you to do it otherwise.

Look how this applies to theology. We need a form of meaning; our minds will make one up for the world whether we choose it or not. Some of these are that we direct every scrap of our own fate, so that if something terrible happens to us we're in some way to blame; or that random chance alone governs our lives and no good can be expected without "luck"; or that the greatest purpose life can offer is to make lots of money. Theology is the beautifully created result of an artistically performed version of this rude process. We use reason and the Scriptures and other people and personal experience to craft an understanding of the world that can be more nuanced and complete than the screeching produced by those who don't care about instruments or music. As in art, you don't need to be a theological professional to come up with something that brings great satisfaction to others. For resources, we start with belief in God--the best and only clay for sculpting a frame of meaning that I can imagine.

What a grace that we have that resource, and isn't it true that grace is always unnecessary? It needs to be excessive, more-than, surprising, so we recognize it not as everyday happenstance, but as the work of God.

Monday, September 05, 2005

Labor Day, workers' rights, and faith

This is a reflection I wrote for a Labor Day Mass this weekend. As it draws to a close, hope you're all feeling replete and re-emergized for what you do.

If you gave much thought to the theory behind Labor Day this year, you might have noted how funny it is that to honor workers, we take a day off from work. It’s also a good time to give thanks to God for the work we do have, which, if we’re lucky, engages us, brings us out into the community, and lets us care for ourselves and our families. Labor Day can be a time to think about how we may honor God in the work we do, even if we don’t think it’s particularly interesting or important, by doing our jobs with gratitude and love. We honor work in personal ways when we realize that God is present in everything we do. But Catholic tradition calls us also to honor workers in public and practical ways, by promoting the rights of workers to speak out together when workplaces become unjust. This is why Pope John Paul II called unions an “indispensable element of social life.” There is no dignity at work without a voice at work, and dignity at work, the Church teaches, is a fundamental right of God’s human creation.

Our readings today [Sunday] give us just a taste of the Biblical basis for the Church’s support of worker’s rights. The first reading calls us to speak out against wrongdoing, and the second reminds us that only love is the fulfillment of the law. In the Gospel, Jesus gives us a very practical model for speaking out for justice with love. When workers today unite to defend their dignity, they often follow this pattern. If someone is being treated unjustly at work, she may talk to her supervisor alone. If nothing changes, she will come with a group of colleagues who share her concerns and who desire to see change happen. If your adversary still doesn’t listen, Jesus says, you should take the problem to the church, in other words, to the community of people who want to see justice done for you. Only after repeated calls for dialogue and fairness have been ignored will a union take the problem to the media, purchasers of products, and to the government to increase the pressure to give workers a fair hearing.

Dignity in the workplace is far more than a spiritual notion: it is literally a matter of life and death. When employers fail to see the humanity of their employees, they make choices that are dangerous to their employees and to their clients. In California this year, five fruit pickers have died from heatstroke. They did not take the breaks they were entitled to because they would be fired if they did not make quota. Here in Chicago, nurses say they must endanger their patients because hospitals won’t pay for enough nurses to work a shift. How terrifying to know a life could be lost because your employer is too cheap to let you do your job well. This is why the Church calls on us all to hold employers accountable: without the call to justice from the community, it is far too easy for employers to make the wrong choice.

In workplaces today, fewer employees are being asked to do more work than ever before. In the 1930s, unions fought for a 40-hour workweek. Those workers believed that time for family, church and community is necessary to the dignity of an employee. When someone has to work two jobs to support her family, or because a workplace won’t give her the full hours she needs for health benefits, that worker’s dignity is being stripped away.

Respect for workers affects more than just what happens at work. More than 45 million Americans are without health insurance, putting them one illness away from potential bankruptcy or loss of a home. Thirty-seven million Americans live in poverty, and a third of these are children. According to the Chicago Tribune, here in the Midwest it can be so hard to find a decently paying job that you have people simply “dropping out” of the labor force, preferring to struggle along on government handouts rather than work jobs that keep their heads firmly below water. This hurts the taxpayers, it hurts the economy of the Midwest, and it hurts those individual workers most of all.

Who has the responsibility for this problem? Catholic social teaching is clear on two things. The market is not the enemy, but neither must it be allowed to make moral decisions. How much a worker makes, whether a waitress should be able to afford health insurance, whether a laborer’s kids can go to college—these are moral decisions that should be made by moral beings, not by a shifting economy. The government, the Church teaches, must promote the dignity and humanity of workers. The fact that unions and charities exist to help workers and the poor does not excuse the government and employers from ethical behavior towards workers.

So now you know the teaching. What’s this have to do with you and me? Can’t we just say a prayer of thanks for our jobs and move on to the picnic? No, because what the bishops teach, Catholics accomplish; we are the Church’s hands and feet. As citizens, consumers, employees and employers, we make decisions every day that affect the lives workers will have in the years to come.

You have the power to join boycotts. You have the power to write to a company that fights against a union and to say “As a Catholic, I think this is wrong.” If you’re an employer, you have the responsibility to ensure that your employees have the dignity that comes from a voice at work and a salary dictated by the needs of human dignity, not by the lowest possibilities forced by the market. We all have power to demand change of our government, to demand great things of our own charity, and to demand better practices from the companies who employ American workers. A change is going to come, but it won’t come for free. And it won’t come without us being an insistent witness, with love, to the world we need to see.

As I’ve been speaking to you about unions today, the odds are that you felt more indifferent than your parents or grandparents might have. I know I’ve had people say to me, “Back when we had child labor, back before there were laws about equal hiring, workers needed unions then, but now it’s different.” Other people have heard stories about bad union leaders or are disappointed with the way the labor movement’s going. As we come to follow the Pope’s lead in support for unions, these concerns deserve to be addressed.

Sometimes it’s hard to see how an older system fits into a newer world. When we see that globalization helps us buy affordable things, or we read a story about someone who might be taking advantage of welfare, it’s easy to think “Well, the world is changing,” and to forget about the principles that unions stand for. They are principles that were very dear to John Paul II. The notion of valuing the dignity of every worker through safe jobs that can provide for a family. The core belief that every person has a responsibility to call broken systems to account. Whether it’s the government forgetting about the poor, companies abusing the human dignity of their workers, or consumers failing to use their power to demand justice, we need only look to today’s Scripture to hear our call to witness—in personal encounters or in large groups—witness with love to the change we know must come.

After all, as Catholics, we know a thing or two about fitting an older system into a newer world. The values taught by our ancient faith can build a world where work is done with dignity for the glory of God.

Thursday, September 01, 2005

"Do not turn your back on your own"

A site called hurricanehousing.org is working to match hurricane victims with people who offer spare rooms, guest houses, trailers or tent space to shelter the refugees.

I thought I was doing an okay job of living Matthew 25 until I observed my reaction at the idea of inviting a stranger who'd just lost everything into my home.

"For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me,
naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.'
Then the righteous will answer him and say, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink?
When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?'
And the king will say to them in reply, 'Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.'"

It's easy to say that this parable was told in a time when life was simpler, but think about it. The risks for a disciple of Jesus in welcoming a stranger are no different from our own. Our homes have a greater variety of possessions than Martha and Mary's, but the fear of theft is the same. The fear of violence is the same, and other parables tell of hospitality betrayed by violence to the host, showing that the fear is justified.

If Christians took their God's word seriously, soon every hurricane survivor would have a bed.

"Thus says the LORD: Share your bread with the hungry, shelter the oppressed and the homeless; clothe the naked when
you see them, and do not turn your back on your own. Then your light shall break forth like the dawn . . . "--Isaiah 58