Saturday, October 10, 2020

Fratelli Tutti, Fratelli di Cristo

 

Over the last few days, I have read through Pope Francis' new encyclical, Fratelli Tutti.

 There are a number of passages, particularly in the beginning, that speak eloquently about the many challenges and threats to humanity and society today.  The overall theme of fraternity and the call for greater civility and concern for our neighbor is timeless and universal.  Pope Francis speaks with as broad and near-universal a tone as I have ever heard from a pope, seeking to address not only Catholics, but all people of various faiths and peoples and nations.  He urges all people to find universal and common values and principles and to unite around them to forge a new kind of global fraternity that can bring peace and dignity to all. 

It reminded me a bit of the spirituality of Star Wars.  The spirituality of the force, a power bringing together the various races and nations and uniting them around a set of humanitarian principles that are universally recognized as promoting human dignity and the common good.  The gravest threats to this unity and peace are those who harm others – who do not stop to assist the person in need, who are not the Good Samaritan.  The essence of star wars fraternity is a culture of mutual understanding and charity: where everyone respects each other and shares equal responsibility for treating others with dignity, and where any individual, institution, or state that would injure or hurt another person is resisted by all.

I do not criticize the Pope for advocating such a wonderful vision.  I love the rebel alliance.  I love Yoda.  Just like Yoda, the Pope speaks as unifier working to bring us all together, encouraging us to rise to our highest aspirations. 

But there is a whole further dimension of the Gospel of Christ that could be brought to bear on this discussion of the problems in our modern world, a dimension that I think enriches what the Pope had to say.  And this dimension is the transcendent. 

Speaking about fraternity, Our Lord said that “Whatever you do to the least of my brothers and sisters, you do unto me.”  St. Francis kissed the leper he met along the road not because he recognized in him the face of the poor and marginalized, but because he recognized the face of Christ in him.  The reason that we Christians love our neighbors is precisely because there can be no distinction between love of God and love of neighbor.  This is because Jesus came into the world and took his place among us –  revealing to us his divine life alive in us who are made in his image and likeness.

That is why our sins against one another have eternal consequences, and not merely earthly ones.  It is not simply that when we treat each other poorly we do harm to society and undermine solidarity and unity here on earth – it is that in treating one another poorly we reject the grace of God and his life that is living and at work among us.  This is why we go to confession when we sin against one another – because it is no private matter that I have hurt another person.  I have hurt a temple of the Holy Spirit and a child of God, and I need to ask the God for forgiveness.

This brings me to another foundational insight of our faith: that we cannot hope to live in mutual harmony and fraternity without the grace of Christ at work in us.  All of the dysfunction that the Pope spoke of throughout the encyclical – it is not as if there are specific people who we can find and blame or reform so that this can all be fixed.  It is not as if there are social structures or policies or government programs that can solve our problems.  This is a fallen world.  We are all complicit in the sin and division that reigns here because it lives in our hearts as much as it does in the world around us.  No matter the resolutions or dialogue or efforts that might be made on a social or political level, we will never be able to save ourselves from the effects of original sin.  Were that the case, there would have been no need for a savior.  But we have tried for thousands of years and failed - and usually the harder that we try to save ourselves, the more dangerous we become.

This is why it is so important for Christians, when speaking about the effort to live in fraternity with others, to point to the grace of God that is given to us in Christ.  He is the vine, we are the branches.  As St. Paul preached: “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.”  The daily work of the Christian is to die to ourselves and to live in him.  Insofar as we remain in our own will and try to save ourselves or the people around us, we will be doomed.  It is only by turning to Christ and seeking to conform our wills to his will that we can find salvation and peace for ourselves and our world.

Holy Communion is therefore the primary sustenance in living a life of Charity, as it refreshes in our souls the grace of Baptism, the life of Christ dwelling within us.  As St. Augustine said, in receiving the Eucharist we receive who we are so that we can become who we receive.  We receive Christ so that we can be Christ in the world.  A soul at peace, a soul refreshed and strong is a soul that can bring peace and refreshment to the world.  Without this spiritual food, we cannot hope to live in harmony with others.  “If the Lord does not build the house, in vain do its builders labor.  If the Lord does not guard the city, in vain do the watchmen keep vigil.  In vain is your earlier rising, your going later to rest.”

We are not mere animals who are working to build a peaceful paddock to live in before the slaughter.  We are women and men who have eternal souls that are meant to rest in God and to be filled with his life and love.  Our efforts to improve this world and to care for one another are but mere transitory and preparatory exercises on the way to a life that far surpasses anything that mere earthly existence can offer. 

Stepping back for a moment in the evening and looking at the stars should cause us to reflect on the smallness of this earthly life, and of our existence upon it.  We are part of something so much greater, of a life that is so much greater than ourselves.  That life, the life of God, is not a distant life – but a divine life that has made his home among us in the person of Jesus Christ.  What makes fraternity beautiful in this world is that in sharing our lives with each other we share the very life of God.  In loving one another, we love him. 

It is because we are not made for this world that we can sacrifice the things of this world for love of one another.  It is because we have one Heavenly Father that we are truly brothers and sisters.  It is because we have been forgiven by him for our transgressions that in our gratitude and peacefulness we find the strength to forgive one another.  It is because he has filled our hearts with his love that we have no need of material goods or worldly honors.  It is because Christ gave his life for me and continues to give his life to me each day that I am urged on to give my life for others.

Fratelli Tutti shows us the difficulties of our time and gives us many ideas about how to solve them.  Thankfully, we do not need to try to do that on our own.  We have an all-powerful Savior who is our brother and who has conquered sin and death.    In the end, there is only one thing that is needed from us.  To seek first the kingdom of God – to seek to be close to Jesus Christ.  Under the shadow of his wings, we will find refuge and strength.  Walking with him, we will be brothers and sisters because he is brother to all and he alone can lead us to his green pastures of eternal joy and peace.

Tuesday, February 18, 2020

Examining our Consciences


This Sunday’s Gospel serves as a kind of examination of conscience for us, does it not?

And this is good timing, as we are coming up to the season of Lent, a time when we dedicate more effort to rejecting sin and returning to God’s ways.  I encourage you to make the time in the coming weeks to really sit down and do a thorough examination of conscience and then go to confession.  I’d recommend not waiting until “The Light is on For You.”  Later in the season – better to start off lent with a clean slate – you can go again later if you want.

Today I would like to go over how we examine our consciences, since I think we don’t talk about this enough.  It is common to just be handed a list of the 10 commandments, perhaps with some additional categories, with the idea that we can figure out where to go from there.  But if we desire a more fruitful examine, one that will allow us to enter the confessional prepared and ready, I think we need to take a step back before comparing our lives to a list of infractions or sins, and reflect on the basic disposition, or approach that Christ invites us to adopt as we examine our moral lives.  And I would like to look at a few key aspects of this Christian approach with you today.

1.    The first thing to note is that Christians can and must begin any examination of conscience with trust and confidence in the love and mercy of God, and in our ability to change and be free of sin.  If we don’t have this trust and confidence, then examining our consciences can become incredibly discouraging, overwhelming and we can begin to feel trapped.  Our failures can feel like nails in the coffin, one blow after another to our confidence and dignity in a dismal rite of self-flagellation.  This is not what Christ would ever desire for us, and it is not edifying or fruitful in the spiritual life.

In examining our consciences, it is critical for us to remember the context of our moral lives: and the context is God’s grace at work in us.  He is at work in our hearts so that we can see where we are resisting him and help us to heal those areas and find new freedom to follow him and find peace and happiness.  We must start from a place of optimism, hopefulness.  Even sins and flaws that seem deeply rooted in our character or relationships that seem hopelessly mired in baggage can be healed and restored.  Jesus asks us to place everything before him with trust and confidence.  Even if we can’t see a way out, he can.  Grace can always find a way.

2.    With this confidence and trust in Christ at work in us, we are led to a place of humility as we examine what has happened and is happening inside and around us.  This means with the deep recognition that when I examine my conscience, it is not I who am the judge or the law giver, but that I am looking to Christ and asking him to help me understand how I am doing according to his judgement, not mine.  Often in a confessional a priest can hear when someone is simply not ready to allow Christ to be the judge.  They either want to condemn or to justify themselves.  They want to decide what is right and wrong.  Sometimes they carve out areas in the teaching of the church that don’t suit how they want to act, and try to excuse themselves.  Sometimes they  exaggerate areas of the Church’s teaching and condemn themselves on trivial grounds.  These are all traps laid for us by pride, when we are trying to take the place of God. 
Instead, a healthy examination of conscience starts with the recognition that there is a God, and it is not me.  He decides what is right and wrong, and he has revealed his wisdom in Christ, a wisdom that has been handed on to us faithfully by the Catholic and Apostolic Church.  Am I really willing to turn over the judgement to him?  Or am I trying to put myself on the judge’s bench?  What is keeping me from letting God be my judge?  Is it pride, unhealthy attachments, fear, anger or resentment?

3.    And this leads to a third element required for a fruitful examine: courage.  No one likes standing before a judge or being evaluated.  There is a deep vulnerability.  We know that we can be deeply hurt.  Our natural impulse before a judge is to defend ourselves, to play down our faults, to blame the other guy, to make excuses.  It requires incredible courage to stand before a judge and not only admit the contradictions and flaws in our lives, but to list them out and to make the case against ourselves.  Yet that is what confession asks of us, isn’t it?  Not only that we plead guilty, but that we take up the role of prosecutor and list out all the charges.  We need to be honest about how hard this is and how unnatural it is. 

Especially when we have really blown it, I think we can say that it is only by God’s grace that we find the strength to really and truly confess our sins with trust and humility.  Yet let us remember that there is great dignity and strength in such a confession.  By stepping forward, before the judge, and speaking the wrong we have done, we are given a deep and abiding peace and strength that we could not receive if we were simply judging ourselves.  And think about how this affects us over time – month after month, year after year.  After 30 or 40 or 60 or 70 years of this routine of placing our lives before the judgement seat of God, we gain an incredible amount of confidence and strength in our connection to God.  Coming to the end of life and our final judgment will not be anything new if we have been examining our consciences and going to confession for years. “Here we go again.”  We know the judge and we know his mercy.  We’ve been standing before him our whole life.

4.    Finally, as we examine our consciences, it is so important to do so in the awareness of a deep and abiding love for God and one another.  For this reason, it may be helpful to begin the examine by first thinking of all the ways that God has loved us and all the grace that surrounds us in the people and events of our lives.  As we survey this incredible canvas filled with good things, from the gift of life itself to the many blessings that continue to unfold each day, we are given the proper perspective to see our sins and weaknesses for what they are.  Seeing the invitation of God’s love for us reveals where we have grown weak or lazy, or where we are running and hiding, or resentful or destructive. 
Far more than fear of hell or guilt, the knowledge of God’s loving care for us gives rise to the desire to love in return: to get rid of the aspects of our lives that are destructive and impeding the love that is shown us and to instead return good for good.  Love for God and gratitude toward him is the strongest and most dependable foundation to build our moral lives upon.  This love and gratitude is what gives us the strength to stand before the judgement seat of God again and again, examining where we are resisting his will and or have grown tepid in following him.  Our knowledge of his love and goodness is what makes us what to come back, to set things right, and to stay close to him.

When we examine our consciences regularly in a healthy way: with trust and confidence, with humility, with courage, and with an awareness of God’s great love, our inner lives and connection to God grows and matures.  Over time, this routine changes us and transforms us.  We do not see ourselves or live like those who look to the world for judgement, or who place themselves in the seat of judgement.  Others can tell in small unspoken ways that we hold ourselves accountable to something, or rather, someone else.  Perhaps one of the most defining things for a Christian is that he or she acknowledges the full divine authority of Jesus Christ as lawgiver and judge, over and above any other power or force in this world.  This deep experience that God alone judges us, reinforced through years of examining our consciences before him, is at the source of what gives joy and freedom to the Christian heart.  For we know that our judge is a just and loving God, full of mercy and compassion, who comes not to condemn but to save.

Friday, January 17, 2020

“Father, I know you’re so busy…”


 “Father, I know you’re so busy…” This is a common sentiment these days, not helped by the recent news of priests feeling overworked and overstretched.  In my own diocese recent months seem to give evidence of the miserable plight of priests, as a few of our brothers have requested personal or medical leaves.  Their departures are deeply felt by parishioners, who many times voice their concerns about how the current state of priestly life seems to be a burden hard to bear.  They are concerned.  They want their priests to be healthy and happy.  I want that too.  But I am not sure that most of us really have a handle on what is going on and why priests are under strain.

The common culprit named is basically administrative overload.  The problem seems fairly obvious: we don’t have enough priests and they are being stretched very thin over many different communities and with so much administrative responsibility that they no longer are able to do the rewarding ministry they are ordained to do with any peace or excellence.  Basically, that they have become burnt out ecclesiastical bureaucrats – too much miserable administrative work to do without enough time or resources.

There is some merit to this concern.  The bureaucratization of just about every structure of society from health care to education to the government sector is a phenomenon that many of us face each day and that certainly does make life less productive and enjoyable.  But it is not unique to the Church.  And I do not think that it accounts for the lion’s share of what truly bothers priests. 

I am going to make a bold claim here:  I don’t think that what is making priests unhealthy and burdened is burnout, at least in the classic definition of burnout due to being overworked and overstretched.

First of all, there is no real evidence of this from the priests who leave active ministry.  We had a presentation at a clergy institute in our diocese a number of years ago by Fr. Stephen Rossetti, director of the St. Luke Institute, a facility that ministers to unhealthy priests.  He told us that in the past, following commonly held views in the field of psychology, they had instructed priests to avoid burnout in ministry by making sure not to neglect their human needs: to take regular days off, engage in non-ministerial activities and relationships, and to generally avoid workaholism.  These were real problems for priests, he acknowledged, but after many years in the field he related to us that they were not usually the major problems of priests who left active ministry.  Priests who left active ministry demonstrated some very clear characteristics: they stopped praying, they isolated from brother priests, they stopped engaging in priestly ministry except as absolutely required.  In other words, they became secularized.

And this gets to the heart of my point.  What is weighing on priests more than anything today is not the amount of work we have to do, but the secular world and church in which we do it.  Let me make my point:

I do not know any priests who have become burnt out because they had so many people in RCIA that they had to teach and prepare.  I do not know any priests who are stressed and overwhelmed because they cannot figure out how they are going to baptize all the babies each week and pay for all those baptismal candles.  I do not know any priests who are stressed because they can’t figure out where to put all the sacred art being created or what venues to use for all the sacred music being performed.  I do not know any priests who are overwhelmed and frustrated by their chancery’s mandates about care in the celebration of Mass and the administration of sacraments and wish they would just focus on finances.  I do not know any priests who have so many people banging down their doors to have them over for dinner or to their organization's event or to some other important social occasion that they are overwhelmed. 

Let me give you a metaphor for priestly ministry today:
Let’s consider a man who spends his whole young adult life studying medicine.  He specializes in the field of cancer treatment.  Why?  Because he has a deep personal commitment to ending the scourge of lung cancer.  He grew up in a community known for great marathon runners, some going on to win international races.  Yet he also watched how some of them became addicted to smoking and saw those dreams melt away and eventually descend into the horror of lung disease.  He knows the incredible capability of the healthy human body, and he also knows how that health can be destroyed.  For this reason, he has chosen to dedicate his life to studying and treating lung cancer. 

Now this doctor grew up in a community where smoking was not particularly common, and certainly not common at all in the medical community.  It was openly discouraged and quite a scandal, in fact, if a health care worker was known to smoke.  Everyone knew and respected the dangers.   And this was pretty much the case everywhere across the country and even generally in the world.  The danger of smoking to your health was known, accepted, and promoted.

But then something began to change.  There were a number of very influential medical “experts,” with questionable motives, who began in various ways to cast doubts on the harm of smoking, and specifically on its causal link to lung cancer.  They were well funded by the tobacco industry, and they were very smart and calculating.  They were able to get into the major influential sectors of society: public education, the media, colleges and universities, and the legal community.  They portrayed those doctors and medical professionals opposed to smoking as old men who practiced medieval medicine and were just trying to hold onto their positions of control and power.  They began to make converts within the medical community itself.  Suddenly, it almost seemed like overnight, even medical professionals were advocating for the right to smoke and getting on talk shows to speak about the harm of smoker shaming.  Signs were going up everywhere talking about the incredible health benefits of smoking, and about how smoking brings people and society together. 

When this doctor went out for a walk, smoke was always in the air.  He was offered a cigarette in almost every social setting, even at conferences for medical professionals.  When he refused, he was looked at as judgmental and old fashioned.  And if he asked about or brought up the horrific spike in deaths due to lung cancer or other smoking related illnesses, he was either directly told that he was being an alarmist or he was quietly pushed to the side and ignored.  Even in his own family, his own close friendships, he was constantly surrounded by smoke.

Now there were some people who, like the doctor, were entirely opposed to smoking.  Many of them had lost loved ones to lung cancer or had emphysema themselves.  They personally knew that all the propaganda, even if embraced by the vast majority of society, could not be true.  Yet they had a very difficult time organizing and gaining any momentum because of their lack of funding and access to social influence.  They would get together at various times for support and to advocate for an end to smoking, but the doctor also found these gatherings difficult because so much of what brought them together was pain: the pain of losing a loved one to cancer or living with a horribly debilitating disease.  It was very challenging for their gatherings not to descend into a tirade about the horrific tobacco industry or a litany of social ills caused by smoking.  So many of those who came together were wounded and suffering and not in a position to really advocate for real reform or to be a living example of physical health.  Each week the doctor would speak about the joy of running marathons and being in good physical health, but he found that so many non-smoking advocates were more united by their hatred of smoking than by their desire for healthy lungs.  He realized that they hardly remembered what healthy lungs felt like, and that he himself was losing his memory of healthy living.  The second-hand smoke they were inhaling each day was having a tremendous impact.

Now, at the same time, there was a huge medical malpractice revelation about doctors who had been harvesting lungs from healthy patients to use for lung transplants into smokers and making huge profits from the sale.  This doctor knew that all of these so-called “doctors” had really been frauds who were smokers themselves and were bought and paid for by the industry, but they wore the same white jacket that he did.  And so the doctor found himself now suspect in many social settings, as front pages constantly carried stories about doctors who were being arrested and hospitals being sued for vast sums of money.  Ironically, no one seemed to connect the dots between the smoking culture and the scandal.  Instead, there was a gradual lessening of trust and confidence in the medical profession, and people started to favor very questionable smoking wellness centers and other forms of alternative medicine.  These institutions were often bought and paid for by the tobacco industry and either encouraged smoking or enabled it, focusing on cosmetics and plastic surgery. 
The lack of patients and constant lawsuits caused significant budgetary constraints in the hospitals.  In addition, fewer and fewer people entered medical school, favoring instead the easier and more esteemed path to certification in alternative medicine.  The doctor found himself with more and more patients and with fewer and fewer resources.  All the while, the number of patients with lung cancer and other lung diseases continued to climb.

Alright – I think I’ve pressed the analogy as far as I can.  A priest is a doctor of the soul.  His life is dedicated to the spiritual well-being of his people.  Today, that spiritual well-being is under threat.  All one needs to do is look at the numbers surrounding mental health and addiction.  They are skyrocketing.  Suicide and other “deaths of despair,” such as overdose and deaths due to addiction or psychological crisis, have caused the mortality rate in the United States to decline for the first time that we know of.  The smoke of secularism is everywhere, hard for priests themselves not to breathe in and absorb.  And the credibility of the Church as a whole and of priests in particular has taken an enormous hit due to scandal. 

What stresses priests and makes them unhealthy is an unhealthy, secular world.  A world that doesn’t care about God or about walking in his ways.  A world that does not understand or appreciate lives dedicated to God, particularly vowed to God in celibacy and obedience.  A world that is more obsessed with sports events than Mass, more interested in the fictional lives of Netflix characters than the lives of the saints.  A world where even in the Church there is far too much concern with money and fitting in to secular social norms than with spreading the gospel and ministering to those in need. 
This is what stresses out priests.  It is not burnout from too much work, but a kind of rusting out from the lack of constructive work.  I wish we had more baptisms, more weddings, more funerals, more classes.  I would love to build a church or a school or a homeless shelter or a soup kitchen.  I would love to have so many men banging down the door, begging to be priests that I was just running from one appointment to the next, swamped with paperwork while trying to get them all into the seminary.  Constructive work is life-giving.  Growth is life-giving.  It is hopeful and joyful. 

What weighs on me, and what I believe is weighing on just about every Catholic at this point to greater and lesser degrees, is the decline of faith and rise of secularity.  It is the struggle to be faithful to Jesus Christ when that very faith is being consistently undermined around you and even in the very institutions that are supposed to be strong. 

Making this point, my goal is not to make everyone depressed or to elicit a wave of compassion for priests.  It is only to give clarity to what I think is actually going on so that we don’t mis-diagnose the situation and end up making things worse. 

My case has been that priests and Catholics as a whole are struggling, not because of earthly limitations or burdens, but because of a spiritual poverty in our time.  When we understand this, it is clear that our response cannot be to change the earthly structures or try to gain additional earthly resources.  We have tried this for the last number of decades and it does not work.  Secularism is a spiritual problem, a spiritual poverty.  And so it must be fought with spiritual weapons.  We know what these are because they are the most ancient weapons of the Church, given to us by Christ, who instructed us that in the most difficult of cases what is especially needed is prayer and fasting.

And so what do I propose instead of the changing of structures and disciplines and other earthly approaches?  First of all, the response cannot be limited to the hierarchy and hierarchical structures.  It must involve us all, because the smoke of secularism has entered into the whole Church from top to bottom.  And what do we all need?  1: to be diligent in prayer.  2: to study the faith.  3: to go on retreat or pilgrimage.  4. to find other people to pray, study, and go on retreat or pilgrimage with.  5. to make small and great sacrifices for Christ.  These practices might seem like an abdication or flight from the world.  After all, there is so much work that must be done.  But the problem is that there will be no work done if we are all secular.  There will be no one left to do the work.  If all the doctors are sick, what happens?  The Church needs to get well.

I think it is fairly clear that the Church is drastically underestimating the power of secularism on our world and on herself.  She does not seem to understand that her children are being secularized right out from under her bosom – millions and millions each year.  Bishops and priests as well – we are all so preoccupied with the secular world and secular things.  We must admit that, for being Christ’s followers, we have horribly neglected a focus on real and authentic prayer, study of sacred things, and direct service to the poor and needy.  There are a handful of dedicated people that are carrying an awful lot, but the vast majority of clergy and laity are simply not focused on Christ and living out his will each day.  We have become secular, worldly people in a secular, worldly Church.  That is why baptisms are tanking, sacramental marriages are tanking, and Mass attendance is tanking.  We just don’t care enough about Jesus Christ and following him. 

Administrative restructuring will not fix a problem of stony hearts.  Lessening the responsibilities and obligations on the priest will certainly not help, particularly any undermining of celibacy.  Celibacy points to heaven in a way that few things do.  That is precisely why we need it all the more today.  We need anything that points us to heaven.  Because we are living in a world that barely knows it exists.  What is required today is repentance, prayer and sacrifice: from top to bottom.  Only this repentance and a renewed taking up of the cross of Christ will allow us to regain the vitality and joy that come from the Gospel fully alive. 

Friday, January 10, 2020

That They May Be One


I was filling in for a pastor at a small parish church a couple summers ago.  The immigration debate had heated up with Trump’s recent election, and our bishop had recently put out a statement which was referenced by the local pastor in that week’s bulletin.  Being the visiting priest, I did not think it would be appropriate to wade into such politically charged waters without knowing the people better, so I did not address the issue in the homily, but instead gave a short statement after the prayer following communion.  I basically said “This is a charged topic.  It is tempting to stay out of the debate.  However, the Church does have something important to contribute to the discussion.  This contribution cannot be summed up in a couple of talking points, because it is nuanced.  Please read up on what the Church teaches so that you can be ambassadors of the full Catholic position in the public square.”

I figured that my words would be acceptable even to the most partisan, since I had not taken a position other than to say that our faith needed to dialogue with the issue.  I was mistaken.  On the way out of church, I was confronted first by an angry man who was frustrated that I had not spoken about the importance of maintaining borders and of the lawlessness that was happening on the border.  Then, almost immediately after he finished scolding me, I was accosted by a lady who was very angry that I had not advocated for those who were being victimized at the border and for the injustice being perpetrated on the poor and vulnerable.

I came away from the Mass feeling a sense of tension but also of peace, thinking that I must have done a decent job explaining, since I took hits from both sides of the political spectrum.  It seemed to me appropriate and healthy that the teaching of the Church could not be claimed by either political extreme, but was unsettling to both.  Yet, as I have reflected on that experience, and on countless other experiences as a priest teaching the faith over these last years of hyper-partisan politics, I have become less and less comfortable with our current state of affairs. 

For a time, I thought that the lack of a cohesive Catholic vote in the United States was a good sign: a sign that the Church was not beholden to any political interest.  It made sense to me that Catholics should not be at home in either political party, since our teaching is not at home in either party.  Thus, the relatively stable split of the Catholic vote and political affiliation seemed to me healthy.  And, I think like many bishops, priests, and others teaching the faith, I assumed that my role as a helpful guide to the Catholic faithful was to alternately make those of both political leanings uncomfortable, refusing to be pinned down by one side of the partisan divide or the other.  One week preach on abortion, the next week preach on immigration; promote the Church's vision of marriage at one table and care for the poor at the next.  At the red Mass or the blue Mass make sure that representatives from both political parties are in attendance.  This seemed to be rising above the political fray: showing the people in the pews that there was a different, non-partisan criteria informing how the Church came to positions on social teaching.  My hope was, as I think it has been for many priests, that in straddling the political divide we were pointing the way to the Gospel.

I have come to doubt this approach.  Why?  Because straddling the divide is not getting to the root of the problem.  It is a band-aid approach, dealing with the symptoms, rather than the cause of division among Catholics in the pews.  Week after week, I am increasingly preaching to democrats and republicans who are Catholic, rather than Catholics who are democrats or republicans.  Their politics comes first, and their faith follows.  The evidence is overwhelming: how many republican Catholics dissent from Church teaching on abortion compared to democrats?  How many democrat Catholics dissent on the death penalty compared to republicans?  As a priest, I can tell what part of the Gospel someone will most likely struggle to embrace as soon as I know their political affiliation, and the more strongly they hold that political affiliation, the more likely they are to reject Church teaching that is a challenge to it.  More than any other factor: race, gender, ethnicity, background – the most clear indicator of how a Catholic will receive the gospel is their political affiliation – and this is at every point along the political spectrum.

The recognition of this fact makes this next point incredibly clear: a huge chunk of people in the pews on Sunday are not followers of Christ first and foremost, but followers of earthly powers and tribes.   Whether they realize it or not, they are worldly people who are looking to the Church to back up their worldly views.  They want to justify their three houses?  Then the priest should preach on the horror of abortion and leave out economic justice.  They want to feel good about their son or daughter’s gay marriage?  The priest should hammer immigration and leave out any sexual teaching.  While they may think that they are are looking to Jesus to be the foundation for their lifestyles, they are actually seeking for him to be their justification.  Insofar as the Church channels that justification, they consider it to be channeling Jesus Christ, because for them Jesus Christ is the justification and salvation of the lifestyle that they chose, whether it is based on his teachings and witness and lived in harmony with his Holy Spirit or not.  

To these worldly Catholics, bishops and priests who attempt to straddle the political fence just look weak.  Both sides consider such straddling to be making unnecessary and even dangerous compromises with the other side that undermine the justification they find in the gospel.  That is why they tend to gravitate to bishops or priests who embrace more partisan positions, considering them to be more faithful to the “true message of Christ,” which is, of course, the one that aligns with their political beliefs.  Ironically, from this perspective, bishops and priests who refuse to be pigeon holed or to take partisan sides are considered weak and political.  How often I have heard the sentiment "If only they would 'tell it like it is'." – i.e., align the Gospel strictly to a partisan political paradigm. 
But the Church is not a worldly endeavor.  And it most certainly is not a weak or passive endeavor.  People often point to Jesus as remaining above the political fray  - not choosing sides, not endorsing any leader.  As if he were politically neutral, someone whose message transcended politics by acknowledging the good on all sides.

But I would submit that on closer study, nothing could be further from the truth.  Jesus transcended politics by undermining all of it.  He didn’t straddle fences, he destroyed them.  He didn’t bridge the partisan divide, he flooded both banks with a new revelation that washed away every earthly political structure.  He declared war on politics, on earthly powers, on tribalism, on ideology, on every human endeavor to lord authority over another, every claim to earthly sovereignty.  He undermined it all, claiming universal authority over all people, every time, and every place.  He made clear that his Word was the criteria by which every other word should be judged, his teaching the foundation of every authentic teaching, his life, the source and summit of every human life.  And that is why every political party of his time rose up against him.  Because of his claim to divine authority.

How can we not conclude, looking at the political divide that has infiltrated our pews, that the overwhelming majority of Catholics do not believe in the divine authority of Jesus Christ and his Church.  If they did, than how could the greatest predictor of their acceptance of his authority in their lives be their earthly political affiliations?

The reason that there is barely a “Catholic vote” in this country is because our people are barely aware of what it means to be Catholic: to acknowledge the universal authority of Jesus Christ over every earthly principality and power, every lifestyle and ideology.  To acknowledge, in short, that he is the Word made Flesh, light from light, true God from true God. To look to him for the most fundamental answers about life and death, happiness and tragedy, love and war.  To speak to him as much as we would speak to a friend.  To know his teaching as it has been handed on to us better than any other area of knowledge and certainly better than we would know trivial things like sports statistics or plot-lines for netflix series.  To wake up and go to bed concerned primarily with discerning his will each day and following it as best we can.

So many of us are sick of the political divide.  Frustrated with the constant partisan nonsense.  And how many of us have a deep awareness that the tribalism of our day will lead to social conflict without something inherently new and different entering the equation. There will be no political solution – there is no political entity that can bridge the gap.  Something else must change in our society if we are to find unity and peace.  We need a new source of unity that transcends every earthly power.

The Church has been given that source of unity: he is called Jesus Christ.  Catholics need to go to him, learn from him, follow him.  They need to seek his ways each day in acts of charity and selflessness, giving their lives over to him, dying to themselves so that he can be alive in them.  The Catholic Church must be more and more able to say with St. Paul “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.”  We must be truly converted, placing every perception, belief, and action before the authority of Jesus Christ and being obedient to his will.  Making of our hearts a dwelling place for his Holy Spirit to move freely and joyfully, leading us from one act of love to the next. 

We know what that looks like: it means observing the commandments, regular reception of the sacraments, and the living of a holy life.  It is not a mystery, but a pattern exhibited in the life of every saint and placed before every Catholic at their baptism.  A pattern that undermines politics in the Church and in our hearts, replacing earthly partisan struggle with a deep love for Christ our sovereign king, for his creation, and for every person he has made.