Emergency - or Business as Usual?

"The United States is heading into its greatest political and constitutional crisis since the Civil War, with a reasonable chance over the next three to four years of incidents of mass violence, a breakdown of federal authority, and the division of the country into warring red and blue enclaves," warned Washington Post columnist Robert Kagan in a now famous article a little over a week ago. What Kagan called "the warning signs" of this crisis," he wrote, "may be obscured by the distractions of politics, the pandemic, the economy and global crises, and by wishful thinking and denial."

Indeed, it seems like "business as usual" in Washington, where the Democrats are fighting among themselves about the fates of the Build Back Better "Reconciliation" bill (which represents the President's legislative agenda) and the "bipartisan" Infrastructure bill, and fighting with Republicans in the perennial (and utterly unnecessary) soap opera about raising or suspending the federal debt limit. These "distractions of politics" may well be very entertaining, perhaps, for some. For most of the country, however, all this will likely do is simply confirm the widespread conviction that Congress can no longer do its job, that democratic government is increasingly unable to meet the needs of its citizens - even when what Congress is failing to do is what voters overwhelmingly want done. If government cannot do what it needs to do and what voters want it to do, is it any wonder that confidence in government is so low and that the viability of our political system seems in such jeopardy? As David Brooks asked in The New York Times, "Have we lost faith in our ability to reverse, or even be alarmed by, national decline?" De facto, for the likes of Senators Sinema and Manchin and all that much more so for most Republicans, the answer seems to be Yes, resoundingly so.

The crisis Kagan has warned about is connected, of course, with the Trump phenomenon in American politics. "Donald Trump will be the Republican candidate for president in 2024," Kagan insists. And "Trump and his Republican allies are actively preparing to ensure his victory by whatever means necessary." Many Americans have too easily reassured themselves, Kagan contends, that, because Trump failed to overturn the 2020 election, the system has survived unscathed. The system's framers, however, "did not establish safeguards against the possibility that national-party solidarity would transcend state boundaries because they did not imagine such a thing was possible. Nor did they foresee that members of Congress, and perhaps members of the judicial branch, too, would refuse to check the power of a president from their own party."

I have long been convinced that surprise calamities - like 9/11 in my lifetime and Pearl Harbor in my parents' time - were surprising not because there were no warning signs but because humans always find it hard to imagine what hasn't happened before. Likewise with the Trump phenomenon, it may be that many have failed to grasp its unique dangers. The Trump movement is historically unique, Kagan argues, not because of the passions that animate it, which "are as old as the republic and have found a home in both parties at one time or another," but because "for millions of Americans, Trump himself is the response to their fears and resentments. This is a stronger bond between leader and followers than anything seen before in U.S. political movements."

Hence, the traditional workings of the American political system (even when they worked better than they do now) are inadequate to this current crisis. "The American liberal worldview tends to search for material and economic explanations for everything, and no doubt a good number of Trump supporters have grounds to complain about their lot in life. But their bond with Trump has little to do with economics or other material concerns," according to Kagan. Again according to Kagan, "the most important thing Trump delivers is himself. His egomania is part of his appeal. In his professed victimization by the media and the “elites,” his followers see their own victimization. That is why attacks on Trump by the elites only strengthen his bond with his followers."

Kagan "wonders whether modern American politicians, in either party, have it in them to make such bold moves" as would be required to safeguard the next election, "whether they have the insight to see where events are going and the courage to do whatever is necessary to save the democratic system."

it is this current crisis, this existential emergency, which makes it suddenly so dangerous to adhere obsessively to past political forms like the filibuster and the cowardly chimera of "bipartisanship." It is likely the case, as Kagan implies, that responding to the material needs and cultural concerns of die-hard Trump supporters would not change many votes. It is however, arguably the purpose of government to do precisely that - not just for Trump voters, obviously, but for the majority of their fellow citizens whose needs and concerns need to be addressed promptly. It would be preferable, of course, to debate the substance rather than the cost of Build Back Better. It would make much more sense for Congress to debate, negotiate about, and vote on each of that bill's programs (child care, Medicare reforms, climate change, etc.) separately. But that is not possible because of the filibuster and the need to push everything through under the ridiculous senatorial rubric of "reconciliation." That said, however, the political imperative remains to accomplish something (undoubtedly something less than the utopian $3.5 trillion maximum). It is imperative both for its own sake, since these are things that need to be done and ought to have been done a long time ago, and also to begin the process of rebuilding confidence in our country and its form of government among the majority of non-Trump voters who need a reason to remain that way. 

Susan Glasser sums it up well in The New Yorker. "It’s about the central premise of Biden’s Presidency, the thing he sold America on: that government could actually get things done. That democracy works, that competence and calm could produce better outcomes than the chaos and craziness of the past four years. Biden’s success in getting things through Congress would be not just a policy victory but a vindication of the idea of his Presidency." 

More than Biden's presidency, it would be a much needed - very much needed right now - vindication of constitutional democratic government.

It's Synodality Time!

Sometime around 1960 or 1961, I mentioned at home something that had been said at school about the upcoming ecumenical council. My father asked what that was. Outside the rarified religious environment of a Catholic school, such complete unawareness of the upcoming council was probably quite common among ordinary American Catholic laypeople. (Of course, Catholic elites were involved in pre-conciliar consultations. A total of 138 responses were submitted by U.S. Bishops. These included a request from Washington's Archbishop O'Boyle for a conciliar condemnation of racism and racial discrimination.)

In two weeks, the world-wide "synodal process" proclaimed by Pope Francis is scheduled to begin at the local level throughout the Church. But, as in the period prior to Vatican II, one wonders how many American Catholics are even aware of it at all.

The official launch of the synodal process is scheduled to take place in Rome on October 10. Its conclusion will be the Synod of Bishops' next ordinary assembly, which will be held in Rome two years from now, focused explicitly on the issue of "synodality." Its official theme, chosen by Pope Francis, will be For a synodal church: communion, participation and mission. Meanwhile, all Local Churches (e.g., dioceses) are supposed to start engaging in the synodal process locally on October 17. During that first, local phase (through April 2022), input will be collected from local parishes and other groups. All that data will then be synthesized into a 10-page report to the national episcopal conferences (e.g., the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops). Then the national episcopal conferences will compile all the local input for the seven continental meetings - Africa, Oceania, Asia, the Middle East, Latin America, Europe, and North America (the U.S. and Canada) - the final documents from which will be the basis for the October 2023 Synod's working document (Instrumentum Laboris).

According to the official preparatory materials, the purpose of this present, first phase "is to foster a broad consultation process in order to gather the wealth of the experiences of lived synodality, in its different articulations and facets, involving the Pastors and the Faithful of the [local] Churches at all the different levels, through the most appropriate means according to the specific local realities." While they are encouraged to participate in the process in the context of the local Churches, religious communities, lay movements, and other ecclesial associations and groups may also contribute directly. The synodal process is intended "as an opportunity to open us, to look around us, to see things from other points of view, and to move out in missionary outreach to the peripheries." This "means broadening our perspectives to the dimensions of the entire Church," asking "What is God's plan for the Church here and now? How can we implement God's dream for the Church on the local level?"

Undoubtedly these events will duly take place, but at least in the United States unawareness of and indifference to the synod and "synodality" still seem to be widespread in the experience of many ordinary Catholics. 

Of course, just as Vatican II happened and changed the Church beyond recognition despite the unpreparedness of many Americans, so too the Synod on synodality will meet in October 2023 and will do whatever it is going to do, regardless of how actually engaged - or not - ordinary Catholics in local Churches have been. But, just as the American participation during Vatican II and the American reception of Vatican II after the fact might have been different had the level of prior popular engagement been greater, so too the same might be said of this upcoming synodal process.

"Understandably, I think everyone is wondering where this is going," observes Knoxville's Bishop Richard Stika. "Pope Francis recognizes this and has stated quite clearly that this is part of a bigger journey. That we are a Catholic community, and that as Christians, we are part of the largest faith group in the world. But we're not too big to still communicate with each other. The Holy Father has also reminded us that this is a spiritual process that requires discernment. It's not an exercise in holding meetings and having debates. We need to listen to each other, but mostly listen to what God and the Holy Spirit might be trying to tell each of us."

"Midnight Mass" on Netflix

Horror films frighten me. Hence, I tend to avoid them. But Netflix' seven-episode limited series Midnight Mass not only comes highly recommended, but its title, with the obvious religious resonance and the implied Catholic context and concerns, was enough to make me at least curious. I still don't like horror. I have no absolutely interest in vampires. Yet, even at the cost of averting one's eyes at its worst, Midnight Mass is so much more than just a fright night.

Midnight Mass is a horror show set in an intensely (if increasingly bizarre) Catholic context, created by film maker Mike Flanagan, who is apparently known for his successful horror productions. Dramatically, almost all the action takes place on Crockett island, home to a small and shrinking island fishing community, that unexpectedly experiences surprising - possibly supernatural - events after the arrival of a new young parish priest, Father Paul Hill (Hamish Linklater), who replaces their old monsignor, who has been pastor on the island for most of the characters' lives. Just as in our real life liturgical abuses often indicate even deeper disorders, likewise the increasingly strange liturgical life of the parish (culminating in a bizarre parody of an Easter Vigil) highlights how much is going wrong in the underlying experience of the community and the lives of its individual members.

The other principal protagonist is island native and former altar boy Riley Flynn (Zach Gilford). who, having left the island and apparently become quite successful, has now returned to his hometown after serving a four-year prison sentence for a drunk-driving accident that killed a young woman. Having lost his faith in prison, Riley struggles with lingering guilt over the woman he killed, even as he tries to reunite with his devout parents and with the island's Catholic community, which includes his former girlfriend, Erin Greene. She, having herself likewise earlier gotten away, has left her abusive husband and returned to town pregnant, and is now working at her mother's old job as a schoolteacher.

There are many other characters, of course. Among them are Riley's parents and his teenage brother, Warren. There is a girl Warren likes who is confined to a wheelchair after having been (accidentally) shot by the island's resident alcoholic. There is the local doctor, who, like Riley, rejects religion, while caring for her senile, but once very devout mother. Also outside the Church is the local sheriff, a widower and a Muslim, recently arrived along with his teen son. And at the center of the parish community is Bev Keane (Samantha Sloyan), who is portrayed as obviously unlikable, the very embodiment of the sort of self-righteous and self-serving religiosity that people like Riley and Erin find so off-putting. As such, she represents what to many today sadly seems to be the public face of religion. She is the sort of person who functions as the proverbial stumbling block for so many.

To say more would reveal too much and spoil the suspense for those who desire it. Suffice it to say that those attracted to horror will find enough of it. But, although weird things happen even in the first episode, it takes a while for the really scary stuff to emerge. Meanwhile, much of the series is taken up with some very serious dialogue on religious and spiritual issues, which is what makes it worthwhile for non-horror fans to tune in. And then there is an Easter sunrise that is worth the wait.

Perhaps one of the most interesting conversations occurs between Riley and Erin concerning what happens when we die - while Nearer My God To Thee plays softly in the background. Having lost all faith, Riley still understands the appeal of religion, but rejects it for himself. He understands death in totally materialistic terms. Everything stops: "clinical death." Yet, in the brief interlude before his brain dies, he believes his brain will release all of its dream drug, and he will dream bigger and better than ever before, "this firework display of memories and imagination." Then, it stops, "and there is nothing left of me." Erin, however, is completely preoccupied with the fate of the baby she has just miscarried, and tells Riley how her daughter has floated back above to where she came from, where she will wake up "wrapped in a feeling of love. Just pure, amazing love." Then, she will meet her family, achieve her perfect age, and happily await her reunion with her mother. That is heaven for Erin. "You are loved. And you aren't alone." In short, her hope is the opposite of Riley's despair.

Meanwhile, as miracles and seemingly supernatural phenomena appear to accumulate, different characters react differently. Bev, of course, exploits what happens in order to advance her own agenda, with catastrophic consequences for the entire community. Some seem innocently taken in, while others remain skeptical and look for rational explanations. There is, of course, another obvious - what I would suggest might be the correct - religious response: that, while real enough, some seemingly supernatural manifestations may be demonic instead of divine.

But even demons cannot defeat the power of love.

Surrounded by Angels

 

When I was confirmed in 1957 at the mature age of nine, I chose Michael for my confirmation name. I did not choose it to honor some relative or family friend. Rather, what impressed me most was its association with the great warrior archangel, Michael who battled against the dragon … who is called the Devil and Satan, who deceived the whole world (Revelation 12:7-9). In those days, we regularly prayed to Saint Michael the Archangel after (Low) Mass: Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. I really liked that prayer; and, for my confirmation, I wanted to identify with that great warrior archangel.

For centuries, Michael has been honored on this day. Hence, the traditional English name Michaelmas for today. Coming just after the autumnal equinox, as the days are visibly darkening, it must have seemed a very appropriate day indeed to honor the Church’s champion against the original “Dark Lord.” Since the calendar reform of 1969, the archangels Gabriel and Raphael (the only other angels identified with proper names in the Bible) have been folded in with Michael in one composite feast of the Archangels.

Where would we be without angels? Here in this church we are literally surrounded by statues, murals, and windows of angels – among them the three gilded bronze angels kneeling above the baldachin over the High Altar (photo) and the four bronze angels with outstretched arms and interlocking hands that encircle the huge globe of the sanctuary lamp. The Angel of the Moon, high up on the south wall of the sanctuary is considered one of the most notable of John La Farge’s murals. Its companion piece, The Angel of the Sun, on the north wall, was painted by William Laurel Harris (the same artist who also did the monumental mural The Crucifixion above the Church’s main entrance). Above and behind the High Altar, the central window depicts Mary Queen of Angels. On the south side of that central widow is a stained glass window of the Archangel Michael, and on the north side is one of the Archangel Raphael. The Archangel Gabriel appears in the painting above the Annunciation Altar in the south aisle. Painted figures of angels also flank that altar on either side, and angels are depicted adoring the Blessed Sacrament in the monstrance painted about the Sacred Heart Altar in the north aisle.

Likewise, the liturgy daily reminds us of angels. At every Mass, we join in praying the Sanctus, an acclamation based on the prophet Isaiah’s vision of the angels in heaven (Isaiah 6:3-4). The Gloria’s opening words recall the hymn sung by the angels to the shepherds on the first Christmas (Luke 2:14). At Funerals, we pray May the angels lead you into Paradise. That familiar In Paradisum prayer was, of course, the basis for Horatio’s famous farewell to Hamlet, Good-night, sweet prince; And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest (Hamlet, Act V, Scene 2).

Then, there are the Guardian Angels, commemorated this coming Saturday, October 2.

It seems the angels really are everywhere – not just in pretty pictures and in the countless books found on the shelves devoted to angels in contemporary bookstores! Where would we be without them?

Homily for the feast of the Archangels Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael, Saint Paul the Apostle Church, NY, September 29, 2021.

Praying for Rain

Today, in the Jewish calendar, is the holy day Shemini Atzeret, which (together with tomorrow's additional holy day Simchat Torah) brings to its close the joyful festival of Sukkot, what the Bible calls the Feast of the Tabernacles, probably the most important festival in the New Testament period. It was on this day, according to John 7:37, that Jesus exclaimed: Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink. This probably referenced the Tenple-era custom of bringing water in procession from the pool of Siloam to the Temple on this day.

The Temple is long gone, but the water theme survives in that today is the day when the prayer for rain is recited for the first time, asking God to grant abundant rain. From today until the spring festival of Passover, this prayer is recited daily, corresponding to the traditional Israeli rainy season. After the dry, hot desert summer, a new year begins bringing the life-giving and life-sustaining autumn rain.

I have been lucky to live most of my life in places with predictably regular rainfall, where in most years it rains all year long (and sometimes unfortunately too much). But there are places (California, for example), which, like Israel, have a Mediterranean desert climate and are dependent on the winter rainy season for sufficient water to sustain human and animal life and agricultural production for the rest of the year, when no rain is normally expected. I can well remember visiting California in January and February as recently as 20 years ago when it didn't just rain, it poured. But global warming is rapidly changing the climate, and the American West has been experiencing severe drought now for years, with multiple consequences for the water supply, wildfires, etc. Whether this drought portends a climate-changed future for much of the American West, which will render that region ultimately unlivable, remains to be seen.

While there is no exact analogue in Christian liturgy to the daily, Sukkot-to-Pesach practice of praying for rain, the traditional Roman liturgy has long included, among its optional occasional prayers, a collect for rain. That traditional prayer Ad petendam pluviam somehow survived the 1960s liturgical cutting room (albeit shorn of its accompanying secreta and postcommunio). As climate change worsens, it is a prayer which perhaps deserves to be prayed more frequently: O God, in whom we live and move and have our being, grant us sufficient rain, so that, being supplied with what sustains us in this present life, we may seek more confidently what sustains us for eternity.