Friday, January 5, 2024

"Symbol of Christian Success"


Today is the 12th day of Christmas and also (in the United States) the commemoration of the great missionary priest and bishop, Saint John Neumann, who lived from 1811 to 1860, and is one of the patrons of the Paulist Fathers.


  In June 1851, Fr. Isaac Hecker, then less than two years ordained and just recently returned to America from Europe, wrote to his good friend and mentor, Orestes Brownson. “I have thought over the subject we spoke of,” Hecker wrote, “& I am sure that if you could make a Retreat under Rev. f. Neuman the Rector at Baltimore for 8 or 10 days, you would find in him the kind of director your soul needs.” There is no evidence that Brownson ever followed upon Hecker’s suggestion, and the next time Neumann was mentioned in one of Hecker’s letters was over a year later, merely noting that the now Bishop Neumann would be preaching at Vespers on the day of the dedication of the Most Redeemer Church on East 3rd Street. As Postulator for Hecker’s Cause, I lament our limited information on Hecker’s interactions with the great 19th-century American saint we celebrate today.


Born in Hapsburg-ruled Bohemia in 1811, Saint John Neumann immigrated to NY in 1836, arriving with $1 in his pocket. (Neumann had studied in seminary in his homeland, but could not be ordained because there were already too many priests in his diocese.) Ordained a New York priest by Bishop Dubois, Neumann spent several years serving German-speaking immigrants in upstate New York, before joining the Redemptorist Order in 1840, eventually becoming Provincial, and then in 1852 Bishop of Philadelphia. He is especially famous for his devotion to young people and their education. Under his administration, the number of parochial schools in his diocese increased from one to 200. (Hence today's Collect's references to fostering "the Christian education of youth" and, in a nod to Philadelphia, bing strengthened "by the witness of brotherly love.") Canonized in 1977, he was the third American citizen to be so honored.


In today’s Gospel, Jesus calls Philip to become his disciple. Philip responds by extending himself farther, finding Nathaniel of Cana, also known as Bartholomew, and inviting him to Come and see. Nothing is more basic to true discipleship than this impulse to share it with others. That was what inspired Saint John Neuman to extend himself, to cross the ocean, to become a missionary priest in a new country, and eventually the bishop mid-19th-century American needed. As Pope Paul VI said in his homily at Saint John Neumann’s canonization: “He was close to the sick; he was at home with the poor; he was a friend to sinners. And today he is the honor of all immigrants, and from the viewpoint of the Beatitudes the symbol of Christian success.”


Homily for the Memorial of Saint John Neumann, Saint Paul the Apostle Church, NY, January 5, 2024.

Thursday, January 4, 2024

Academia's Moral Blight


As a non-intellectual myself, I am quite content to let the academic club police itself in regard to its own internal issues, such as what is or isn't plagiarism and what penalties plagiarism might merit. As a citizen and a human being, I was much more directly offended by the former Harvard President's problematic comments when testifying to Congress last month - the debacle that began the unravelling that resulted in her inevitable downfall. Her answers on that occasion were, on the most charitable interpretation, morally obtuse, but they were acutely revelatory of the moral blight that has overcome much of academia.

Like "fascism" and other political epithets, "genocide" may be a word which is easily overused and which should be employed only with great reserve and precision. That said, not a lot of "context" is required to figure out what Hamas is about, nor should a lot of "context" be required to condemn the ideologies that endorse Hamas and its goals. Any hesitancy in this regard must reflect a deeper moral crisis. And it is that deeper moral crisis which is damaging American elite higher education.

Full disclosure: while I never attended Harvard, I did benefit from graduate education at another "Ivy League" school. I have only the fondest memories of my five years as a grad student at Princeton in the 1970s. It was an exhilarating intellectual environment and an intellectually liberating experience. But that was then. A lot has happened in elite higher education since that time. Since I have no direct experience of contemporary elite universities, I cannot evaluate them directly. I can only observe the results, as they impact the wider society. It is that troubling impact which was on display at that unforgettable congressional hearing.

Some of elite education's decline has been blamed on so-called DEI policies (an acronym one of my more academic acquaintances has referred to as "Discrimination, Exclusion, Intimidation"). Personally, I suspect DEI is itself as much a symptom as it is a cause - a typical instance of overreach that highlights an underlying confusion of values, or better an abandonment of once held fundamental values. 

As George McKenna has reminded us in The Puritan Origins of American Patriotism  (Yale U. Pr, 2007, p. 240), two of the strains of thought most deeply rooted in American history have been Puritanism and populism. My sense is that American society today increasingly reflects the degeneration of each of those tendencies into its worst form. On the right, contemporary conservatism has largely dissolved itself and been replaced by a particularly hateful and dangerously authoritarian form of populism. On the left, liberalism still survives but is undergoing a progressive deformation, of which "wokeness," DEI, etc., are all serious symptoms. Contemporary Harvard, once-upon-a-time the original Puritan University, may be what happens when Puritanism loses its soul, but pushes full steam ahead in its self-righteous, sectarian pursuit of self-referential power.

I am not accustomed to quote (or even regularly read) Compact Magazine, but a recent Compact article by Princeton Assistant Professor of Politics, Greg Conti, has offered elite universities some helpful practical advice: "They should protect the rights of students to have nonpolitical spaces on campus (like libraries and dorms) and should remember that the opportunity to study and work in the absence of political intrusions is a great part of what the university exists to provide. They should promote faculty and evaluate students without respect to demography or ideology, seeking to abide not just by the letter, but the spirit of our nondiscrimination laws, including the recent Supreme Court ruling on affirmative action; and if the fact that in a liberal-democratic society it is deeply corrosive for powerful institutions to find ways around aspects of the law they happen to disagree with is not compelling enough reason to do so, then they should remember that these discriminatory policies are deeply unpopular across all racial groups." ("The Rise of the Sectarian University," Compact, December 28, 2023).

Such advice barely scratches the surface of what has gone wrong in an intellectual culture that has become alienated from its original mission and purpose. Elite universities like to imagine themselves as expressions of the highest ideals and values. In a way which was not envisioned, they have become the expressions of a fundamental moral blight at America's heart. 

Image: Harvard University's Coat of Arms, which ironically features the word Veritas ("Truth").


Tuesday, January 2, 2024

2024: The Threatening Storm

 

Election year 2004 is upon us! Inexorably, the clock carries us forward into this new year of political reckoning.

As we enter this fraught election year, one thing we are all increasingly aware of how is politically polarized we are as a nation.


As Georgetown political scientist Thomas Zimmer has remarked, "the least controversial thing you can do in American politics is to decry polarization."


But at least as important as decrying polarization (political or otherwise) is understanding it. What does it mean in the here and now? How does it matter, and what might an alternative be? These questions are also of particular importance for the Church, both because the Church is tasked with the ministry of reconciliation [2 Corinthians 5:18-19] but also, somewhat sadly, because the U.S. Church herself is also currently characterized by deep divisions that reflect and mimic the political polarization that so preoccupies political analysis today. (The increasing politicization of religious identity is itself a significant issue, which deserves additional separate treatment another time.)

 

Speaking as a one-time, would-be political philosopher and continuing observer of our political scene, it is, of course, clearly obvious that our two political parties have moved apart, which is to say that the once central middle ground previously occupied by moderate Republicans and moderate-to-conservative Democrats has largely disappeared. This has happened steadily over the last 50 years, thanks to a multitude of political factors, which students of the subject have easily identified. At the risk of seeming stuck in a sort of institutional determinism, these include the declining power of party leaders ("bosses") and the increased role of party primaries in choosing candidates, the role of money in campaigns, the changed incentives for elected politicians in a media-centered celebrity culture, the increasing number of "safe districts" in which there is no incentive to appeal to and persuade voters beyond one's own  party, and the increasing nationalization of American politics, due to the loss of local newspapers and other factors which once made local politics different from national politics. With all due respect to the traditionally recognized institutional factors, this last diminishing of local life may deserve more attention that it has generally received. (For many people on a practical level, local involvements with neighbors and the wider community, including people with different political sensibilities, may be their one opportunity for constructive engagements which counteract the overwhelmingly national pattern of polarization.) 

 

It is likewise obvious and particularly problematic that Americans have increasingly re-sorted themselves socially, politically, and even geographically. American pluralistic politics used to be characterized by what were commonly called "cross-cutting cleavages." Such "cross-cutting cleavages" described a situation in which different groups and interests overlapped, in which voters allied with one another along different lines on different issues depending on their different interests, in which all the aspects of one's life did not all align together. One can trace some appreciation of this back to James Madison's Federalist 10, and it was the staple of mid-20th-century pluralist political thought. In contrast, "reinforcing cleavages" occur when the groups and issues one identifies with all fall on the same side of the political spectrum.  


The primary point of actual concern in this regard is not that there are different groups and different interests, which is inevitable; but that the differences ("cleavages") are increasingly reinforcing, rather than cross-cutting. 


So, whereas previously Americans allied with one another along different lines depending on the issues, now they have largely sorted themselves into two alternative cultures - one increasingly urban/suburban, wealthier, better educated, and living in relatively stable family and community situations; the other increasingly rural, poorer, less educated, and living in relatively unstable family and community situations. Apart from the Civil War's regional polarization between Northern and Southern States, this is a relatively new phenomenon in American politics. 

 

It is also obvious that this division is replicated (or replicates, depending on your take on economic causality) our increasing economic inequality, the growing gap between the better off and the worse off, a gap which has always existed but which was less problematic in living memory. My "Greatest Generation" father, for example, worked two jobs to earn a blue-collar wage and lived in a largely working-class community in the Bronx. His boss lived at One Fifth Avenue - obviously richer, obviously more privileged in so many ways. But not only was the dollar difference between them significantly smaller than their comparable equivalents would be today, but also their cultural perspectives and moral values would have been much more closely aligned in a way almost unimaginable now. Today, in contrast, being a Democrat or a Republican reflects adherence to a distinct set of cultural perspectives and moral values, differences which used to cross party lines. No wonder that more and more members of one party express dismay at the thought of a family member. marrying someone in the other party, now seen as a party of hostile, existential enemies rather than a party of rival, political interests! All of which at best tests, at worst corrodes our capacity to advance the country's interests and the common good.

 

On the other hand, while the middle of both political parties has disappeared and both parties have really moved farther left or farther right, it is evident that both parties have not done so equally. It is beyond obvious that one party has moved so much more radically than the other. Assuredly, the Democratic party has moved definitely to the left (having lost its traditional constituency of conservative Democrats and having arrogantly alienated much of the so-called white working class). That said, as Thomas Zimmer has noted, the U.S. Democratic Party recognizably resembles a regular center-left European political party (perhaps even more than it used to). The Republican party, on the other hand, hardly resembles a mainstream center-right European party (like the Conservative Party in the UK or the Christian Democratic Party in Germany, for example), but has become much more like an extreme, far-right political party.  


Moreover, whereas our two parties' traditional policy differences dealt with issues like free trade vs. protectionism and higher vs. lower marginal tax rates, our two parties now differ on fundamental institutional issues like constitutionalism, democracy, elections, the rule of law, the peaceful transfer of power, and the U.S. role in the world. Again, apart from the special case of the Civil War, this is relatively unprecedented in American history. The problem is not that Americans disagree on specific issues, but that the traditionally presumed consensus on such values as constitutionalism, democracy, elections, the rule of law, the peaceful transfer of power, and (to lesser extent) the U.S. role in the world has been so dramatically undermined.

 

On the other hand, it is important to appreciate that the post-World-War-II golden age of political consensus, which we Boomers remember so fondly as the norm (and from which our present polarization appears to represent such a tragic departure and decline), was a relatively unique (and hence short-term) historical phenomenon. Wonderful as it may have then seemed, it  was possible only because of some very historically specific reasons. These included (1) the recent victory in World War II, which left the U.S. the world's undisputed superpower and economic powerhouse for the subsequent quarter-century; (2) the organizational vitality and political power of organized labor, which, together with the above mentioned American political and economic power, made the post-war period an era of unprecedented upward mobility and increasingly egalitarian economic prosperity; (3) the virtual end of immigration in 1924, which created an unprecedented period of cultural stability, which helped the country through the Depression and World War II, while facilitating the peaceful assimilation of earlier immigrant groups; and (4) a moderate-to-conservative consensus on cultural and moral values, symbolized by the great post-war religious revival. 


Less positively, that consensus also presupposed an ultimately unsustainable racial caste system. The dominant political party during that period, the Democratic Party, was a predominantly pro-labor, progressive party outside the south, but was at the same time a racist, apartheid party in the post-Reconstruction Old Confederacy. Throughout the post-war period, in fact, slow but increasingly inexorable progress was being made to transform that discriminatory racial social order. But, as that progress developed, the latent tensions and divisions in the culture became increasingly unsustainable and the divisions we now emphasize eventually escalated. With the Voting Rights Act of 1965, the U.S. finally (but controversially) became a multi-racial democracy, while the Immigration and Nationality Act that same year set the course for the U.S. to become a multi-ethnic pluralist society. Meanwhile, modeling themselves to some extent on the changes in race relations, other liberatory movements have remapped society in all sorts of problematic ways. Discomfort with - and outright opposition to - these fundamental cultural transformations gradually, but inexorably, have undermined the older political bipartisan consensus and so also have helped to set us on the path to our present divisions.

 

What this suggests is that going back to any of what characterized that post-war consensus is largely impossible and would be undesirable in many cases. So what exactly might represent a genuine alternative to our present situation requires re-imagining. It is misleading - maybe even political malpractice - merely to contrast our current crisis with the post-war consensus, without also recognizing that any resolution must lie in an uncertain future rather than in the familiar but long-lost past.


The traditional pluralist paradigm no longer applies. James Madison's famous solution to potential polarization was two-fold: first, to refine and  enlarge the public views, by passing them through the medium of a chosen body of citizens, whose wisdom may best discern the true interest of their country, and whose patriotism and love of justice, will be least likely to temporary or partial considerations; and, second, the greater number of citizens and extent of territory ... which renders factious combinations less to be dreaded.


Since Madison wrote that in 1787, the modern nationalization of our politics (a by-product of modern mobility and contemporary communications) has eradicated the advantage that the 18th-century Madison anticipated would characterize a large republic. As for the first solution, thanks to some of the transformations of our politics already alluded to, Madison's expectations regarding representative government have demonstrably proved false. Compare, for example, the originalist expectation of how the Electoral College would function and how it actually operates now. Indeed, what does it say about the merits of those original arrangements now that the Electoral College, which originally was expected to exclude a populist democratic demagogue from the presidency, is now the main vehicle by which such a demagogue may be elected even if rejected by the majority of voters?


In the process, it is the fundamental liberal paradigm itself that has been put in political jeopardy. This really matters because there are, in fact, no seriously sustainable or palatable alternatives to the liberal paradigm on offer for contemporary U.S. society today.


Entering election year 2024, the incumbent President and his somewhat fractured coalition come closest to defending that fundamental liberal paradigm, while the former (and would-be future) President and his cult-like movement represent an authoritarian retreat from constitutional, democratic governance, an alternative that seems only to increase in popularity as a judgment against the failure of our hitherto governing elites. The historian Stephen Foster said of 18th-century Colonial America's Great Awakening that it "unleashed the sectarian impulses within the Puritan movement in America and turned them against a portion of the establishment." Likewise, the calamitous events of the first quarter of the 21st century - among them, unwinnable endless wars, the Great Recession, increasing inequality, the hollowing out of the industrial heartland, the decline of religion, and the sorting of Americans along reinforcing cleavages into two totally inimical tribes - have unleashed populist impulses (primarily on the right but also on the left) and turned them against the establishment in each political party, but particularly in the Republican Party.


That is where we are as a nation at the beginning of 2024. Where we will be at the end of this threatening year will be determined by how well or ill we navigate this threatening storm.



To be continued.

 



Monday, January 1, 2024

Happy New Year!


To anyone anywhere, who may read this, 

Happy New Year!

It is the common custom in meeting of friends at this season, to greet each other with a Happy New Year! This is a praiseworthy and pleasant custom, and in accordance with it, I greet you all, my dear brethren, with a Happy New Year! Happy New Year to all our friends and the inhabitants of this city, and to all our countrymen, whether dwelling north or south, east or west, in this our native land. Happy New year to all men of whatever race or clime; for God is our common Creator, and in Christ we are all sons of God, and therefore brethren.


Isaac Hecker, Sermon, "How To Be Happy," January 1, 1863.

Sunday, December 31, 2023

Looking Back, Looking Ahead



Whenever I preach on New Year’s Eve, I often like to quote the late comedian George Burns, who once wrote in The New York Times: “Growing up on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, I always looked forward to New Year’s mainly because it was the only thing we could afford that was really new.” Burns was a lifelong, professional comedian; so that was his laugh line. But, then, he added: “And we always believed that things were going to get better during the New Year.” 

 

The Roman god Janus, for whom the first month of the year is named, was the god of beginnings and endings, of doors and passageways, of past and future. Hence, he was typically portrayed with two faces – one looking back at the past, the other ahead to the future. In a sense, that is what we all do every year at this time. We look back at the past year, with some mixture of gratitude and regret about where we have been so far, while we likewise look ahead at where we may be going in whatever time may yet be left, sometimes with increasing worry but with worry mixed with hope.  A new year, as Burns’ comical comment reminds us, is, by definition, something new, a gift that offers an opportunity for hope.  

 

Historically, different peoples and cultures have marked the passing of the year on many different dates and with many different customs. Our preoccupation with the computing of time, the movements of sun and moon, the changing of seasons, and the repetitive cycle of years, however, has been universal. Whether celebrated in spring, summer, autumn, or (as we do) in the dead of winter, the end of an old year and the start of a new one has universally been seen as a special moment in time, when past and future meet.  Before anyone ever exchanged Christmas presents, people were giving each other New Year’s gifts.  The Chinese even had New Year’s greeting cards – over a thousand years ago.

 

Our apparently timeless preoccupation with time may be one of our most distinctly human traits, since one of the earliest things that human beings became aware was probably our own mortality – the fact that we live and die in a set period of time. Time is precious - precisely perhaps because we have just a limited amount of it.

 

Of course, most of our time is what we might call “Ordinary time” – the day-to-day routine of personal life – of home, family, work - punctuated by those special high or low moments, most of which happen when they happen, not particularly according to any calendar. Yet the calendar is always there, and never more obviously than today, when the simple act of changing the date makes us stop and wonder what it all means.

 

If history has taught us anything, of course, it has taught us the fragility of so many of the things we are tempted to pin our hopes on. For all our holiday cheer, many of us may be marking the end of a very difficult and challenging 2023 by looking ahead to Election Year 2024 with more than a little anxiety. Everywhere, people are beginning the new year with worries and anxieties amid far-away wars and close-to-home violence and all the perennial problems of home, family, and work. There’s a reason, after all, why we pray every day at Mass that we may be safe from all distress, as we await the blessed hope and the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ.

 

But, if our distress and anxiety as we look ahead to the new year are real enough, so too must be our hope, the hope we all share as Church, the hope we have been proclaiming this Christmas season, and on which we must all rely in all things and at all times, all the year round: the blessed hope and the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ.

Our hope is founded and focused on Jesus Christ, whose birth 2000+ years ago is the very basis for our calendar. God’s showing up in the world in Jesus – the Word becoming flesh and dwelling among us, born into a particular family, in a particular place, at a particular time in human history as a light of revelation to the Gentiles, has realigned all of time and given all of history a new and more hope-filled meaning, giving us a hope for the future we would never otherwise have had. 

Like Simeon and Anna in today’s gospel [Luke 2:22-240], the world is old and has seen its share of woe. But they were awaiting the consolation of Israel, and they recognized that consolation when he came to them, as we must recognize him when he comes to us, revealing the thoughts of our hearts, and even more importantly God’s heart.

 

Time, the passing of the year reminds us, has always been very precious – precisely, I suppose, because we have only such a limited supply of it. By becoming part of our time, however, God has turned our limited time on earth into a time of unlimited opportunity. So today he invites us to look ahead to the new year and to enter it not in fear or anxiety, but with the hope that counts as one of God’s greatest Christmas gifts to us.       

 

Happy New Year!

 

Homily for New Year’s Eve (Feast of the Holy Family), Saint Paul the Apostle Church, NY, December 31, 2023.


Photo: The Times Square Ball's 2024 Sign Arrives in Times Square. Courtesy of the Times Square Alliance.