Theological Cocktail
A convert, I attest to the irenic temptations of C. S. Lewis’s “mere Christianity.” In my case, Deo gratias, it backfired, and for a reason that would have edified Lewis himself had he looked more closely into the origins of that expression.
In my college years Lewis’s Mere Christianity more than once kept me from straying into agnosticism, for which I am grateful. The essay on “Christian Marriage” guided me through the first years of wedlock to a Catholic girl.
We both learned more about the sacramental nature of matrimony from this Anglican bachelor than from any Pre-Cana course. In the best Protestant tradition, Lewis can pull you from the Slough of Despond as no other writer. For more specific directions afterwards, he would be the first to advise a visit to the rectory . . . any rectory. And that’s the problem.
Lewis said that he wrote those essays to “defend what Baxter called ‘mere Christianity.'” The Puritan divine Richard Baxter (1615-1691) was sometimes claimed by my Presbyterian ancestors for one of their own. He did much to hold together the fissiparous mess that English Protestantism became during and after the Protectorate. Baxter’s story should have given Lewis second thoughts about this brand of Christianity.
Baxter’s concern for peace at any price earned him the ironic fate reserved for those who insert themselves between the parties of a domestic fight. While Baxter is credited with helping to bring about the Restoration, the cavalier jurist George Jeffreys nevertheless had him imprisoned for eighteen months at the age of 70 for “libeling the Church.”
In his prime he had joined the Parliamentary army for the purpose of reducing sectarian strife among the ranks. Cromwell even offered him a chaplaincy at one point, but Baxter wisely declined trying to evangelize the Ironsides with his conciliatory creed. In time Baxter became suspect for his leveler sympathies, his unpuritan trust in reason, but most of all for his flexibility, almost amounting to indifferentism, with regards to dogma.
When Cromwell complained that fundamental theology held by Baxter “might be subscribed by a Papist or Socinian,” Baxter replied, “So much the better, and so much the fitter it is to be the matter of concord.” Baxter so detested religious “fanaticism” that it is said he could barely endure Quakerism.
Lewis, the medievalist, would have done well to reflect over the Old English use of the word “mere” to refer to a standing pool of water. For the Right Reverend Baxter the placid surface of “mere Christianity” may have been a refreshing sight after a century of Protestant infighting, but stagnant waters breed mired doctrine. Baxter’s version of the Kingdom saw its fulfillment when the first Presbyterian stood a round of Gibsons for an Episcopalian at the 19th hole one pleasant Sunday morning. The only sword his Christ came to bring was intended for spearing cocktail onions.
Keith Bower
Cincinnati, Ohio
Darkest Where?
Your recent piece about the Most Reverend Steven A. Leven (“The Soapbox Bishop,” January 1996) stirred up some old memories. About 49 years ago Father Leven, who always supported public school students, was one of the judges in a high school oratorical contest in which I participated. Although Blackwell [Oklahoma] was at least 99% Protestant, everyone seemed to love Father Leven, who was the first Catholic priest I ever met.
Later, while attending college in the Paul Blanshard era, then Monsignor Victor J. Reed was a dinner guest at my fraternity and graciously and calmly answered all of our/my silly questions about the Catholic faith; which, in my case, was an initial step on the long road to conversion.
I salute these brave men for their wonderful work in darkest Oklahoma.
Kenneth Lyn
Pompano Beach, Florida
“Sensitivity” Training
I recently picked up a copy of your December ’95 issue, and was greatly impressed from front to back. It was the first time I had seen your publication, and found the topics discussed in it very engaging. Among them, I found one of particular interest to me, that being the story in the Dragnet section regarding Br. Bob Smith, Capuchin monk and high school principal, who prided himself about never having a conversion or baptism at his school.
This story caught my attention because I am a recent convert to the Catholic Church (I was baptized this Easter), and, moreover, I converted and was baptized at a Catholic school, the University of St. Thomas, here in Houston. Along with me, two other women were baptized, and another woman was confirmed.
I would like to point out a few things to anyone who might sympathize with Br. Smith’s position. Firstly, of the two women baptized with me, one was raised Buddhist, and the other was not baptized as a child because her parents wished for her to “find her own way.” The woman confirmed was a former Baptist. I myself am an eight-year veteran of 12-Step programs, who, when I first transferred to UST from a state college, believed strongly in the “work the steps or die” motto of such programs, along with a value system drenched in trendy, contradictory secularism. From those beliefs I drew a general disgust at the mere concept of organized religion. What the examples of these three women and myself show is that the UST community does not need to sacrifice its faith and conviction in Catholicism to be generous and welcoming to non-Catholic students. Proof of this is in our greatly varying backgrounds, and by the obvious fact that none of us were alienated by the college’s Catholic identity. Had UST’s approach to upholding that identity been at the expense of their non-Catholic students, it is doubtful that any of us would have ever inquired about joining the Church. Furthermore, the UST community is committed, largely due to the Basilian order that founded the college, to the partnership between education and evangelization. This partnership can work, and does work, and this semester UST has four witnesses to that truth.
My conversion was not a pretty one, considering how viciously I resented a Church I knew nothing about (and proud of it) prior to coming to UST. It would have never come about had I not been confronted by the Catholic faith (I had no intentions of confronting it). I chose to become a Catholic because, after that confrontation, I saw something in the Church’s teachings that greatly appealed to me-truth.
Granted, I could have continued without that truth, and, had UST failed in its evangelical spirit, I would have done just that. It would have been a tragedy, for myself in the very least. In my conversion, as I see it, God, through the faithful, lovingly confronted me with the invitation to love and live in the truth. It has been the greatest experience of my life so far, beyond doubt.
With that in mind, I would like to take this opportunity to speak frankly to anyone who finds Br. Smith’s “sensitive” approach to the education of non-Catholics appealing. This approach is not an example of faithful Christian charity, but evidence of how sadly naiveté and arrogance go hand and hand. This misguided, superficial, and rather pretentious “sensitivity” comes at a great cost.
Remember that Christ died because he was rejected. Why was he rejected? Because he loved us enough to confront us with the truth. Following the example shown to me, I would like to invite all those who find something appealing in Br. Smith’s approach to reexamine (and, perhaps, for some, examine for the first time) truth, love, and living “the Way” as revealed to us through the person of Jesus Christ.
Cade Bois
Houston, Texas
Robocop Theology
The Washington Post published an article on Easter Sunday titled “What really happened to Jesus?” It sported a wonderful picture of the risen Christ by Borgognone and focused on a group of (I use the term loosely) scholars known as the Jesus Seminar. It seems these “fellows” have been meeting since the late 80s to delve into the Scriptures, make some discoveries, and actually attempt to change public opinion with their findings. It seems they are part of a larger movement called “The Third Search for the Historical Jesus” begun fifteen years ago.
Among other things, they have “found”: there is no evidence that Christ rose from the dead, his friends probably buried his body in a shallow grave, Christ was not born of a virgin or even in Bethlehem.
[Marcus] Borg, the head of the Jesus Seminar, is quoted in the article as saying, “I think the resurrection of Jesus really happened, but I’m skeptical it involved anything that happened to his corpse. His followers continued to experience him after his death but in a radical new way. They had experiences of him as a living spiritual reality, as a figure of the present and past but also as having qualities of God.”
Now granted I have not read their book, The Five Gospels, but what translation do these guys read? Reader’s Digest? I found it almost comical that these self-styled “modern” scholars should spend a tremendous amount of energy and time in their attempts to come up with the gnostic heresy that is as old as Christianity itself. The Fathers (who knew the apostles and possibly Jesus) have already denied this stuff. The article on the Gnostics in your last edition was well timed. You would think that these “scholars” would at least have the decency to come up with something original. I got bored (in a scholarly sense) halfway though the Post article. Anyway, please keep these guys in your prayers.
I forgot to mention that Director Paul Verhoeven, of such family classics as Showgirls , Robocop, and Basic Instinct , is putting together a movie about Christ. Verhoeven’s Jesus is a revolutionary who was killed “without understanding why,” unsure whether God was on his side or not, and who probably won’t rise from the dead. Verhoeven thinks Jesus’ body was probably eaten by wild dogs. Verhoeven, a member of the Jesus Seminar as well, has no advanced degrees in biblical or classical studies.
David Glasow
McLean, Virginia
A Letter to Traditionalists
In the past, I have been one of your biggest critics, however, I am approaching my wit’s end with certain traditionalist groups that perpetually criticize the Holy Father. I have included the first piece of writing I’ve circulated in a while:
Dear Fellow Traditional Catholic,
After a friendly conversation with a conservative Catholic the other day, in which he offered me sound fatherly advice, I decided to put my sentiments regarding both the traditionalist movement and the papacy on paper. I hope this individual does not mind, but I have made this letter — the fruit of our conversation — open to my fellow Catholic traditionalists.
You are probably wondering why young, avowed, traditional Catholics like myself suddenly find themselves staunchly defending the papacy. In light of the recent tensions between traditionalists and the papacy, tensions which culminated in 1988 when Archbishop [Marcel] Lefebvre consecrated four bishops without Rome’s approval, this is definitely a fair question. Keeping in mind what the Jesuits have taught me, I will attempt to be brief and to the point as I answer the question.
First of all, as you have often noted in your wisdom, the Catholic Church is one large family. The father of this family, as instituted by Christ, is St. Peter and his successors. While we may question the decisions of the pope from time to time, there is a difference between questioning a decision our father has made, and open rebellion against the authority of our father.
Unfortunately as of late, some of our siblings in this family are trying to banish our Holy Father to an old age institution. No longer content with undermining John Paul II’s direction as Pope, the modernists are now trying to undermine the papacy itself. Although Christ promised us the gates of hell would not prevail against the Rock of Peter, this still does not mean that they would not try their best.
Therefore we traditionalists must now put aside our differences and stand solidly behind our Pope.
Now you are probably asking yourself why it is urgent that traditional Catholics stand behind His Holiness John Paul II. Simply put, it is not sufficient during these trying times to be a liturgical traditionalist. Lex orandi, lex credendi -what we pray we must believe, and vice-versa. In other words, we must be total package traditionalists; we must seek the preservation of all Catholic Tradition, including the papacy. For all Catholic Tradition is intertwined to build the faith, and if one.aspect of Tradition falls, so does the rest of Tradition. As Christ pointed out, a house divided against itself must fall, and so will traditional Catholicism if its adherents promote division between liturgical traditions and papal traditions.
However, the issue that is commonly brought up at this point is the issue of truth. Many traditional Catholics would argue that Communion in the hand and altar girls run counter to liturgical traditions. As a traditionalist, I must admit that I struggle to reconcile these two practices with the liturgical traditions of Catholicism. Yet, I also realize that these two practices were initiated by rebellious clergy in the Western world long before Rome approved them. If Rome caved in over these issues, as we traditionalists maintain, then it is because Rome did not feel it had the necessary strength to fight the Modernists on these issues.
So in reality, Rome has not failed us, rather we traditionalists have failed ourselves. we have failed to support the Holy Father through our prayers and encouragement, and we have failed to toe the line when the Holy Father most needed our filial loyalty. We have accomplished this by bickering amongst ourselves while the Modernists presented a united front. But once again, this observation leads the traditionalist towards a greater question; mainly, does having the right to carry out a certain action necessitate that one should always do so? Drawing from my own experiences, my parents had the right to discipline us children when we did not keep our curfew, but they did not always find this a wise course of action. For example, my thirteen-year old brother showed up an hour after curfew on a school night, the same night I came home five minutes late after my high school graduation ceremony and dance.
In both cases that night, we broke our parents’ curfew, and in both cases our parents had the right to discipline us. However, my parents judged the infraction of my younger brother more serious than that of my own, and he was grounded for two weeks while I suffered little more than having my father tease me and my mother delay my breakfast five minutes the next morning. In the case of my brother, he benefited from being strictly disciplined, whereas my parents felt that, beyond some humor value, little would be gained in disciplining me.
In both cases, a higher truth prevailed, that of the preservation of the family unit. Just because my parents had a right to ground me along with my brother, did not mean they found it wise to do so. In both cases they looked towards the higher truth, and found it wise to discipline my brother in order to preserve the family structure, where for the same reason they found it wise to ignore my infraction.
Similarly, traditionalists may have a right to question some of the Holy Father’s decisions, but it is not always wise to do so. In my case, my parents did not ignore or deny my infraction of the rules, they merely chose not to pursue it. Coming back to the issue of the papacy, we traditionalists must learn, for the sake of preserving our Catholic family, not to pursue every possible papal blunder, of which I am sure there are far fewer than most of my fellow traditionalists are led to believe.
Yet, unlike the incident between myself and my parents, this idea of not pursuing every potential papal infraction is important because the Pope is our family father. When we traditionalists spend too much time questioning the Holy Father, we ultimately end up undermining our own authority, whether it be our authority as religious, or our authority as parents within a family.
When we make it a habit of criticizing our superiors in front of those who find themselves under our authority, then we leave the door open for those under our authority to question us as their superior. Having attended many traditional Catholic parishes, under the leadership of a variety of traditional orders, I have noticed the churches that find themselves the most disunited are usually the churches where the Pope is subject to the most criticism. Similarly, I have noticed in traditional families where the Holy Father is often criticized by the parents, that the children are equally rebellious. Thus, as traditionalists, we risk undermining our position every time we criticize the Holy Father or one of his decisions.
However, it is one thing for traditionalists to criticize the Holy Father when he tries to appease to the Modernists, but it is another to criticize him for his traditional efforts. Some of the most vitriolic attacks I have witnessed against the John Paul II have come not from the Modernists, but sadly from certain self-proclaimed traditional organizations who criticize His Holiness’s approval of both the Indult and the Fraternity of Saint Peter. The charge leveled against the Holy Father is that he has deliberately created these organizations in order to further undermine the traditional movement. At its best, such behavior on the part of traditionalists is uncharitable; at its worst, such behavior is schismatic.
First of all, like any other order, the Fraternity of Saint Peter (FSSP) was organized not by the papacy, but by the original members of this organization in order to fulfill a purpose. In the case of the FSSP, its purpose was to offer the laity the Tridentine liturgy as an alternative to the New (Pauline) Rite of Mass. Like other religious orders that came before them, the FSSP approached the Pope in order to have him approve the new order. Why should Pope John Paul II not have approved of the establishment of the FSSP? To argue such is to argue there is something illegitimate about the FSSP or its mandate. Had our dear Pope not approved of the FSSP, we traditionalists would accuse His Holiness of having spurned the traditional Catholic movement.
Yet, there are those that argue the FSSP’s real mandate is to undermine other traditional orders. However, I find it interesting that those arguing such offer no proof to substantiate their claims, only allegations. But what puzzles me about these orders making those allegations against both the FSSP and the Papacy is that these same orders perpetually remind their faithful about St. Ignatius of Loyola’s principle of charity. This is the principle that we must always try to interpret our superiors’ actions and words in a manner most charitable to both our Catholic superior and Tradition.
Why are certain clergy associated with certain traditional orders promoting this principle among their laity when it comes to the words and actions of their order, but not when it comes to interpreting why His Holiness approved of the FSSP? There are only two possibilities here: 1) These orders are not practicing what they preach, and so they are not interpreting this action of the Holy Father in a manner conducive to the Ignatian principle of Catholic charity, or 2) These orders no longer recognize John Paul II as their religious superior, which would constitute schism on their part. In either case, to continue propagating this myth that the FSSP was concocted by the Holy Father solely to undermine the traditional movement is to commit a cowardly attack against Pope John Paul II.
Not only can one be a staunch traditionalist and an avowed papist, but it is our Catholic duty to be so. Therefore, I challenge my fellow traditional Catholics to rally behind the Pope, for the sake of preserving and propagating our Catholic Tradition.
Pete Vere
via the Internet