A Chronically Mistaken Take on Human History

Way back some 40+ years ago, when i was a graduate student, I recall someone making a comment about a particular Supreme Court Justice that he was "the stupidest Justice on the Supreme Court." In response, the late Walter Murphy (Princeton University's McCormick Professor of Jurisprudence) wisely observed that, while that might well be so, "the stupidest Justice on the Supreme Court" would certainly still be among the smartest 1% of American lawyers. I thought of that today when I came across an account of something Justice Antonin Scalia is alleged to have said the other day. 

I have seldom agreed with Justice Scalia, but neither would I ever doubt that he too is certainly "among the smartest 1% of American lawyers." So imagine my surprise when i read that he allegedly told a gathering at a Catholic high school near New Orleans last Saturday that "one of the reasons God has been good to us is that we [the United States] have done him honor." His principal point seems to have been that the many public references to God in our civic life are a positive part of our culture and in no way contrary to the constitution, and that trend in recent decades to twist the 1st Amendment so as to expel religion from our public life is, as he calls it, "absurd,".

Now that legal point is one that I would certainly agree with him on. And I think it always bears repeating - in support of the historical reality that the 1st Amendment was in no way intended to prescribe a secular society - that the 1st Amendment was never intended to apply to the states but only to the federal government, at a time when some states still maintained an established Church. That the federal government may not establish any particular religion and that all states have subsequently opted against religious establishment has been, I believe, a good thing for our country. But likewise good has been the very vibrant presence of religion in the American public square for most our country's history.

All that having been said, however, I am amazed not by Scalia's legal reasoning but by his religious reasoning. In ancient Roman religion and no doubt in other civically oriented religious traditions, it was widely believed that faithfully correct, cultic observance would result in the gods' looking favorably on society and granting it prosperity and political success. But didn't Saint Augustine write his monumental De Civitate Dei precisely as a Christian rebuttal to that as a false interpretation of history?

Admittedly, the Old Testament sometimes presents a sacral view of history in which what happens to Israel is often seen as God's judgment upon Israel's fidelity to the covenant or her lack thereof. Even so, the eschatological orientation of the later Old Testament (not to mention the book of Job) would seem to reflect a more nuanced sense of the relationship between religious fidelity and temporal success. As far as I know, the only ecclesially sanctioned interpretation of non-biblical history according to which God apparently favored one side over the other would be the unique case of Joan of Arc's mission to save France during the Hundred years War. And, even then, there is no evidence that the French were more faithful to God than the English, no reason to suggest that God was explicitly rewarding the French for their fidelity. 

It is, I think, the apparent absurdity of most of human history that is most obviously evident, Particular historical outcomes - among them the rise and fall of empires and the transitory prosperity and political success of the United States - are not to be taken as anticipations of the General Judgment. There is a reason, after all, why the General Judgment takes place only at the end of all of human history! Until then, Macbeth came closer to the truth when he famously observed that human history is more like "a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing" (Act V, Scene 5). Indeed, as one reviewer wrote just this past year: "Any attempt to draw lessons and to issue 'warnings' from any historical event is a perilous venture. In view of this record, such lessons and warnings drawn from history usually are more revealing of the mind and current agenda of the admonisher than a sober and objective reflection about the past” (Christopher R. Browning, “A New Vision of the Holocaust,” NYR of Books, October 8, 2015, p. 43.)

So, yes, by all means we should foster religion's presence in our civic life, in "the public square" and resist those who seek to expel religion and secularize our society. But, no, however blessed our land may be  in many ways, I do not believe that God has been so good to us in the United States because as a nation "we have done him honor."

Downton Abbey, Season 6

Yesterday afternoon, the historic Tennessee Theatre held a free advanced screening of the opening episode of the sixth (and final)  season of Downton Abbey, which premiered for the rest of us on Sunday night.  (Of course, UK audiences have already seen the entire season, which finished on Christmas.) It is estimated that  Downton Abbey  has some 120 million watchers worldwide!

Of course, I couldn't go to that event. Among other things, I had our annual Epiphany Brunch for parish volunteers Sunday afternoon to attend.  Even so, the atmosphere of eager expectation was evident even there - along with speculation about how the final reason will (or will not) "resolve" the unresolved threads in the various characters' lives, what knots it will (hopefully) untie for (among others) Anna and Bates and Mary and Edith and Isobel. 

And after all the waiting, episode one did not disappoint. How could any episode that ends with Carson and Mrs. Hughes finally kissing possibly disappoint? Their awkward attempts to discuss sex seemed only to confirm the charm of their late-life romance. Maybe it is my own age speaking here, but to me there is always something special about love between two older people, who have been through so much together and are now finally able to express their feelings romantically - contrary to societal prejudice that would confine romance to the young and beautiful. 

And, while that other great downstairs romance - Bates and Anna - obviously still has some dark clouds hanging over it, but at least their legal troubles are now (finally we hope) over. What a relief this was not only for Anna and Bates but for everyone else - upstairs as well as down! What other event has ever brought Lord and Lady Grantham rushing downstairs to celebrate with the servants with 4 bottles of Veuve Clicquot, not to mention the precious family gramophone for the staff to dance to! (It also gave Robert a chance to see a refrigerator for the first time!) Now, if only Anna could actually completely accept that she is well and truly loved - and show it by being honest with her husband instead of always concealing something (most recently her miscarriages)!

The other really positive move in the story was with Edith,who seems to be on the verge of starting a London life.  Like Bates and Anna - and, for that matter, Barrow - Edith seems perpetually sentenced to disappointment. Maybe life in London as a career woman will start filling some of the vacuum in her life!

I don't particularly care for the conflict between Violet and Isobel about the local hospital. One of the stronger and more heartwarming themes from seasons 5 was the acknowledgement of the genuine friendship and emotional dependency between the two dowagers. I would hate to see that sacrificed just to act out the series' tiresome theme of the social changes of the 20th century via another silly fight between those two fine characters, who really do deserve each other!

But all through the episode i was quite conscious of the missing characters - of Lady Rose in New York and Tom Branson in Boston. Rose has been a singularly strong addition to the family, and Tom has been since almost the beginning at the heart of how the family has been developing. Their absence is certainly a loss.

The overarching theme for the season is, of course, the series' obsession with the impending demise of the country house way of life. Was it a a gain or a loss for 20th-century Britain? However one may answer that, its eventual TV demise in nine more episodes will be a loss for all of us!  

"They Departed by Another Way"

One challenge of preaching on these great feasts is to say more or less the same thing again but in different words. On Epiphany, I often find myself using more or less the same words year after year, because (although there certainly are other things worth saying) this is really what I want to say on Epiphany. Since I am all alone and have to celebrate three Masses back-to-back today with barely a break to rest my weary knees, I am keeping my message short, so as to have sufficient voice and energy for those parts of the Mass like the Canon, which are so infinitely more valuable than my words. However, if anyone is reading this and would like to read one or more longer versions, I recommend going to my postings on other previous Epiphanies!

Ten years ago, I attended World Youth Day in Cologne with a group from our parish in New York. Cologne’s great Gothic Cathedral was originally built to house the supposed relics of the magi, who, as we just heard [Matthew 2:1-12] came from the east to do homage with gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

Historically, Epiphany is the oldest festival of the Christmas season, older than Christmas itself. In the Eastern Christian Churches, Matthew’s story of the magi is read on Christmas Day itself. Epiphany in the East is primarily a celebration of Jesus’ baptism, the beginning of his mission as an adult. Here in the West, we postpone the commemoration of Christ’s baptism until next Sunday, focusing today almost exclusively on the story of the magi.

That said, however, the fact is that we really know next to nothing - of the sorts of things we would so much like to know - about the magi themselves. But the Gospel does tell us what it is important for us to know about them. First of all, it tells us that they were foreigners, Gentiles, pagans, relying on human, natural knowledge, But, whatever varied the paths that different people may start out on, our paths must all finally converge in Jesus, the one and only Savior of the world, and that the interpretive key to the story of Jesus, the Gospel tells us, is God’s revelation of himself in the history of Israel. Thus, it was to Jerusalem, that the magi came to learn the full significance of the star.

By way of warning, however, the story also illustrates how easily we may miss the point. When Herod heard the Magi, he was greatly troubled and all Jerusalem with him – not overjoyed like the Magi, but troubled,! What troubled them? What made such good news seem to them like bad news? The same Christmas star that filled the magi with hope somehow seemed like an evil portent to those who somehow sensed the threatening challenge it posed to their power and priorities.

And then there were the scholars whom Herod consulted. They correctly quoted the scripture, but they didn’t get it either. It was as if they had an abundant academic knowledge of the subject, but lacked any real knowledge. So none of them did the obvious thing – go to Bethlehem and do Jesus homage. Only the pagan magi did!

Talk about missing the opportunity of a lifetime!

The magi, on the other hand, were overjoyed, not troubled. The magi set out as true pilgrims – and on entering the house they saw the child with Mary his mother … prostrated themselves and did him homage. In the old liturgy, when these words were read or sung in the Gospel everyone was directed to genuflect. It was the liturgy’s way of physically bringing the point of the story home, helping us to identify personally with the pilgrim magi.

As for the magi, we never hear about them again. We know only that they departed for their country by another way. Nativity scenes sometimes seem, so to speak, frozen in time. Everybody stays stationary – at least until it’s time to put the figures all back in the closet. But the real magi didn’t just stay put. They went back to wherever they had lived before, but they departed for their country by another way. They went back to whatever they had been doing before, but they would never be the same again. And, thanks to Christ’s coming into our world, we too must be different now from what we would otherwise have been.

Every January, after the holidays, we return, as we inevitably must, to our ordinary activities – at home, at work, whatever and wherever. Like the magi, however, our challenge is to travel through our ordinary life by another way, because something so special has happened that makes everything different from what it would otherwise have been.

Epiphany Homily, Immaculate Conception Church, Knoxville, TN, January 3, 2016.

Anticipating Epiphany

One of the odder American adaptations to the liturgical calendar is the anticipation (or postponement) of Epiphany on the previous (or following) Sunday. Epiphany, the oldest festival of the Christmas season, is still celebrated in the universal calendar on its ancient and traditional date, January 6 - in some countries (e.g., Italy) still observed as a public holiday. But in the US Epiphany is moved to the Sunday after January 1 - presumably to facilitate more widespread popular awareness of it. Of course, this wreaks havoc with the symbolism of the ancient date, not to mention the popular Christmas carol, The 12 Days of Christmas, which this year in the United States are in effect reduced to nine! 

Of course, there is nothing biblical about the 12 days of Christmas, and both December 25 and January 6 were originally pagan festivals. In that sense, the alteration of the calendar may seem less offensive than the widespread transfer of Ascension Thursday to the following Sunday, in spite of the scriptural basis in the Acts of the Apostles for the traditional date of the feast, 40 days after Easter. Still, when we transfer feasts for the sake of convenience, it is hard not to suspect that they are diminished in some way.

Twenty-two years ago, I was in London on Epiphany - then still celebrated there as a holyday of obligation and on its traditional date. We had attended Sunday Mass at the London Oratory and New Year's Day Mass at Westminster Cathedral - both beautiful experiences of solemn liturgy with wonderful music. But on Epiphany, which was a holyday but not a holiday, we went to an early morning Mass in a small, working-class parish. While not quite as grand as the Masses we had attended in those other more prominent churches, the early morning Epiphany Mass we attended featured by far the best homily of the three - an experience we probably would never have had if Epiphany had been transferred to a Sunday!

Happy New Year

The Roman god Janus, for whom this 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 to the past, the other ahead to the future. In a sense, that is what we all do every year on New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. We look back on the past, particularly the past year, perhaps with some mixture of gratitude and regret, while we likewise look ahead, sometimes with worry but with worry mixed always with hope.  Some of these sentiments are captured in the religious customs that have traditionally been associated with New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day – the traditional singing of the Te Deum, the Church’s official hymn of thanksgiving on New Year’s Eve, and the Veni Creator, the Church’s great hymn invoking the grace of the Holy Spirit on New Year’s Day.

Speaking personally, my own feeling is that 2015 has not been the sort of year that much of the world will look back on with much fondness. One New York Times columnist has even called 2015 “a memento mori moment for our institutions — a year of cracks in the system, of crumbling firewalls, of reminders that all orders pass away.” Individually, we may treasure some memories from this year, but, in the bigger picture nationally and globally, in many ways it has been a bad year all around.

All of which reminds me of the comedian George Burns better laugh-lines, which I typically tend to quote on New Year’s: “Growing up on the Lower East Side of Manhattan,” Burns remarked, “I always looked forward to New Year’s mainly because it was the only thing we could afford that was really new.”  That was the comedian's laugh line. But then he added: “And we always believed that things were going to get better during the New Year.”

And that is what brings us to the threshold of a new year, willing to turn from Janus’s backward look to look ahead with hope. If history has taught us anything, of course, it has taught us the fragility of some of so many of the things we are tempted to pin our hopes on.

But there is another hope – the hope that brings us here to this church today. It is not a hope in things, the things our commercial, consumerist culture encourages to put our faith in. It is not a hope in what John’s Gospel (which we heard on Christmas Day) calls nature or human choice or man’s decision. Rather it is a hope founded in God, whose Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us, whose birth some 20 centuries ago is the very basis for the calendar we are so conscious of today. But its significance goes way beyond the calendar. As Pope Francis expressed it in the opening words of his new year’s message: God is not indifferent! God cares about mankind! God does not abandon us! 

But, while the Christmas story confirms for us that God is not indifferent, we are still quite capable of responding with indifference. Hence the Holy Father’s invitation to respond differently during this Holy Year of Mercy, in the spirit of which he has called on all of us “to realize how indifference can manifest itself in our lives and to work concretely to improve the world around us, beginning with our families, neighbors, and places of employment.” [Message of XLIX World Day of Peace, 8]

The birth of Christ – to a particular mother, as a member of a particular nation, living in a particular place and at a particular time in human history - has realigned all of time and given all of human history a new significance and has offered us a new hope for a future which we would never otherwise have had.

Time has always been very precious – precisely, perhaps, 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 receive this new year – this year of our Lord 2016 – with gratitude as his gift and to enter into it with the joy and hope that counts as one of God’s greatest Christmas gifts to us.

New Year's Homily, Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God, Immaculate Conception Church, Knoxville, TN, January 1, 2016