Tuesday, December 31, 2024

Good Riddance to a Wretched Year!


On this New Year's Eve, I feel tempted to reprise and adapt to this sad year that is now ending some of the sentiments famously expressed by Britain's Queen Elizabeth II back in 1992:

2024 "is not a year on which I shall look back with undiluted pleasure. ..., it has turned out to be an 'Annus Horribilis'. I suspect that I am not alone in thinking it so. Indeed, I suspect that there are very few people or institutions unaffected by these last months of worldwide turmoil and uncertainty."

The end of the year is inherently a melancholy time, when we look back and remember, among other things, those we have lost this year - from the news world, Harold Fineman and Robert MacNeil, from the world of entertainment, James Earl Jones and Bob Newhart, from sports, Pete Rose and Willie Mays, from popular culture, Phil Donahue and Dr. Ruth Westheimer, as well as two priests from my own local community - all among many others. Their memory is a reminder of what we have lived through together and will never experience again.

For me personally, this has been a particularly tough year in terms of aging and health concerns. But that is perhaps to be expected at my age. What was not expected - or, at least, would not have been expected a decade or more ago. - and which is way more important than any individual personal concerns has been the horrendous transformation of American public life. Our country has always had its problems, and as a nation we have always been anything but perfect. But America 10 years ago was a nicer place than it is now. The political transformation that has overtaken our country is both a cause and a symptom of an accelerating national fall from grace. 

The year has had its share of surprising heroes (e.g., Gisèle Pelicot in France) and unsurprising villains (whom we may leave nameless). If politics provided the year's low point, the restoration and reopening of Paris's Notre Dame Cathedral may have marked one of the year's outstanding (if few) high points. In addition to restoring and reopening its glorious monument to Catholic culture, French Catholicism has also been experiencing its own modest revival. In 2024, over 7000 French adults - over one-third of them in the 18-25 demographic - chose to be baptized in the Catholic Church.

Closer to home, I was next door in the parish office one day earlier this month. It was the monthly day for distributing food. The line of those patiently waiting for food was quite long, despite it being one of the coldest days of the year. That such severe need exists in a city of such conspicuous consumption of superfluous abundance points directly to the moral failings of our society, highlighting so much of what is wrong right now with our increasingly unhappy country. 

And yet... All those people patiently waiting in line were there because other people - parishioners primarily - were working hard inside organizing and distributing an enormous quantity of much needed food. In their own way, at their own pace, in their own corner of the country, they were doing something helpful. They may or may not have had opinions about the larger national catastrophe. But whatever they thought about that, whatever their worries or frustrations, those did not get in the way of their doing something necessary and useful. How encouraging that, in spite of all the socially manufactured sadness that permeates our world, people are still inspired to let go of that and focus instead on making others' lives better - even if only a little bit better!

In the bigger picture, of course, the end of this wretched year promises the arrival of even more wretchedness.From the fact that 2024 was in so many ways a truly terrible year it sadly does not follow that we are leaving all that behind us. It is hardly the case that we are now moving ahead into a new and better year.  The challenge will be not to be overwhelmed by all the wretchedness we citizens have inflicted on ourselves and one another but somehow to let go and look for whatever opportunities present themselves to shine some light into the deepening darkness.

Monday, December 30, 2024

Jubilee



On Christmas Eve, Pope Francis solemnly opened the Holy Door of Saint Peter's Basilica in Rome, thereby formally inaugurating the Ordinary Jubilee of 2025. Yesterday, in cathedrals all over the world, diocesan bishops were directed to open the Holy Year locally, along with the announcement of the Jubilee Indulgence. In the course of the coming year, the Pope proposes, "every effort should be made to enable the People of God to participate fully in its proclamation of hope in God's grace and in the signs that attest to its efficacy" [Spes Non Confundit, Bull of Indiction for the Ordinary Jubilee year 2025, 6].

I remember well the Great Jubilee of 2000, when I went on pilgrimage with parishioners from New York, walking through the opened Holy doors of the four papal basilicas in order to receive the Jubilee Indulgence. While the Holy Doors were a later addition, the Jubilee itself dates back to 1300 and Pope Boniface VIII. The practice of celebrating a Jubilee every quarter-century goes back to 1475 and Sixtus IV. With a few inevitable exceptions, the custom has continued ever since. It is a time-honored opportunity to highlight the kindness and generous love of God our Savior (Titus 3:4), which the Christmas liturgy proclaims

Having opened this Jubilee Year of Hope, Pope Francis, in his Christmas Day Urbi et Orbi message, referenced the Holy Door, which he said:
 
represents Jesus, the Door of salvation open for all. Jesus is the Door; the Door that the Father of mercies has opened in the midst of our world, in the midst of history, so that all of us can return to him. We are all like lost sheep; we need a Shepherd and a Door to return to the house of the Father. Jesus is that Shepherd; Jesus is the Door.

Brothers and sisters, do not be afraid! The Door is open, the door is wide open! There is no need to knock on the door. It is open. Come! Let us be reconciled with God, and then we will be reconciled with ourselves and able to be reconciled with one another, even our enemies. God’s mercy can do all things. It unties every knot; it tears down every wall of division; God’s mercy dispels hatred and the spirit of revenge. Come! Jesus is the Door of Peace.

Often we halt at the threshold of that Door; we lack the courage to cross it, because it challenges us to examine our lives. Entering through that Door calls for the sacrifice involved in taking a step forward, a small sacrifice. Taking a step towards something so great calls us to leave behind our disputes and divisions, and surrendering ourselves to the outstretched arms of the Child who is the Prince of Peace. This Christmas, at the beginning of the Jubilee Year, I invite every individual, and all peoples and nations, to find the courage needed to walk through that Door, to become pilgrims of hope, to silence the sound of arms and overcome divisions!

Coming at this genuinely depressing moment in world history, when the immediate future appears so bleak and dangerous, the Pope's invitation to pass as pilgrims through the Jubilee Year as people of hope is yet another reminder that a morally meaningful existence extends well beyond the tawdry boundaries of our impoverished politics.

Sunday, December 29, 2024

Holy Family

 

One of the English-speaking world’s more popular modern Christmas traditions is the Service of Nine Lessons and Carols created in 1918 at King’s College, Cambridge. It begins with a single choirboy singing the 1st verse of the 19th century English hymn Once in David’s Royal. The choir and eventually the whole congregation soon join in the singing. One of the verses seems to have been tailor-made for today’s feast of the Holy Family:


And through all His wondrous childhood / He would honor and obey,

Love and watch the lowly Maiden, / In whose gentle arms He lay:

Christian children all must be / Mild, obedient, good as He.


Of course, today’s feast of the Holy Family is about more than children being told to obey their parents. Introduced by Pope Leo XIII in 1892, it reflects the modern Church’s concern, in the wake of so much revolutionary social change, to reaffirm the fundamental importance of the family as a natural institution in society and as the unique human community through which society institutionalizes its commitment to the next generation, and addressing that concern is inevitably a critical component of the Church’s social mission in the modern world. 


Like those Old Testament parents Hannah and Elkanah, about whom we heard in today’s 1st reading [1 Samuel 1:20-22, 24-28], the Gospel [Luke 2:41-52] depicts Jesus, Mary, and Joseph a devout family, faithful to their religious obligations, which include the annual Passover pilgrimage to Jerusalem. So, in the story we just heard, Mary, and Joseph travel to the Temple in Jerusalem for Passover. Jesus is now at an age when he will soon assume his responsibilities and obligations as a member of God’s Chosen People, and so Jesus also accompanies his parents and their extended social network on the pilgrimage. 


In one sense, this can be thought of as a kind of “vocation” story – Jesus’ first public acknowledgment of who he is and what his mission will be. Already anticipating his later behavior as an adult, Jesus here puts his priority on his relationship with his heavenly Father rather than his earthly family. Hence, his mission is to be in his Father’s house, rather than in the caravan among relatives and acquaintances. Likewise, the wonder experienced by the teachers in the Temple anticipates the wonder so many will soon experience at Jesus’ teaching during his public life - and the wonder we continue to experience as we experience his continued life among us in his Church.


Like Hannah and Elkanah, Mary and Joseph had a son dedicated to the Lord, a son whose mission in life would take him – and his followers – beyond the limits of natural human relationships. We can hear this in the contrasting uses of the word “Father,” first in Mary’s question and then in Jesus’ surprising response. Through the Church, our new relationship with God in Jesus incorporates us into a new network of relationships both wider and more inclusive than any natural human relationships – including even the family. Jesus situated family relations within the context of the Kingdom of God, introducing a radical call to universal brotherhood and sisterhood. 


At the same time, just like the 12-year old Jesus, we Christians continue to be involved in and dependent upon that natural network of human relationships, of which the family is the first.  Hence, the Church has developed over the centuries a rich teaching on marriage and family, for the family is where we learn to live with others despite our differences and to belong to one another; it is also the place where parents pass on the faith to their children.


On the other hand, as we are all so well aware, the family today is experiencing what Pope Francis has called “a profound cultural crisis, as are all communities and social bonds.” We've all heard of the book Bowling Along, the emphasis on Alone, with fewer and fewer people feeling connected with one another and many saying they have no friends at all.


The reality in our society is increasingly one in which fewer and fewer people feel that they are able to get married. And many who do marry experience that their marriages do not last. There are obviously all sorts of social problems, such as decades of stagnant wages, which contribute to these difficulties. And then there are all sorts of social problems which follow from these difficulties. Obviously, wise public policies are needed to address these problems and their social and economic causes.


The Church meanwhile is called upon not only to advocate for such sound public policies but also to accompany families that are stressed in these various ways. 


The Jerusalem Temple to which Jesus, Mary, and Joseph went on pilgrimage, was the principal and privileged place where one would experience God’s presence among his People. Likewise, what happens here in our uniquely privileged encounter with the Risen Lord in the Eucharist is intended to intrude into and transform everything else and all those day-to-day natural human relationships, including our families. 


Today’s feast calls our attention to the transforming effect of the Incarnation in all aspects of our daily life. When he established this feast, Pope Leo XIII wrote: “When Jesus, Mary, and Joseph are invoked in the home, there they foster charity, there they exert a good influence over conduct, set an example of virtue, and make more bearable the hardships of every life.”


Homily for the feast of the Holy Family, Saint Paul the Apostle Church, December 29, 2024.

 

 

Saturday, December 28, 2024

A complete Unknown (The Bob Dylan Movie)


A Complete Unknown (the title derived from the chorus of Bob Dylan's 1965 single, Like a Rolling Stone) portrays Bob Dylan's early career from 1961 his through his earliest folk music success until the his controversial use of electronic instruments at the Newport Folk Festival in 1965Timothée Chalamet stars as Dylan, with Edward Norton as Pete Seeger, Monica Barbara as Joan Baez, and Elle Fanning as Sylvie Russo, a renamed version of Dylan's girlfriend during that time.

Although the film covers only a few years (1961-1965), it is an eventful journey through that magical time. It starts with Dylan's arrival in New York City in 1961 seeking to meet his idol, the hospitalized Woody Guthrie. He sings for Guthrie and Pete Seeger, impressing them, and leading to his introduction to the New York folk-music scene, from which he quickly rises to performing and recording stardom. Along the way he moves in with Sylvie, whom he met at a concert, and also begins an artistic collaboration (and an affair) with Joan Baez.

Dylan's talent brings him fame and stardom, but also adds stress to his life and his relationships with Sylvie, with Joan Baez, and with the folk music community. He chafes at being beholden both to the recording industry and to the folk music community, and he throws an unedifying on-stage tantrum while supposed to be performing with Joan Baez. He increasingly experiments with electronic guitar and rock instruments, which alienates the 1965 Newport Folk Festival planning committee and ultimately the festival audience. Alienated from the folk music community, if now liberated artistically, Dylan pays one last visit to the hospitalized Guthrie.

The film is, as I said above, a tour back into a magical time. Of course, the reality of life in the sixties was less magical than we aging boomers may choose to remember, but the film and, above all, the music bring us back to when we were young and when - for all its threats and problems -  the world seemed so full of promise.


Friday, December 27, 2024

Hanukkah

 


By calendrical coincidence the Jewish holiday of Hanukkah 5785 (in the Christian calendar 2024) coincides with Christmas this year, having begun at sundown on Christmas Day and ending next week on January 2. 


Obviously I do not personally celebrate Hanukkak or any other Jewish holiday. But I well remember how when I was a pupil in a New York public school in 1954, my class sort-of celebrated Hanukkah. We had a chalk menorah on the blackboard, and we used to illuminate in chalk one of its “lights” each day. (Sadly, I suspect such inter-religious experiences are probably not permitted in public schools anymore!) 


Hanukkah, as most people presumably know, is based on events recounted in the (Catholic) Old Testament in the two Books of Maccabees, which describe the horrendous suffering inflicted upon the people of Israel by their Hellenistic persecutors and the contrastingly heroic history of resistance led by Judas Maccabeus and his priestly Hasmonean dynasty, who eventually defeated the Gentiles, reconquered the Jerusalem Temple which had been desecrated, and festively rededicated it for sacrificial worship on the 25th of Kislev (December 14, 164 B.C.)

 

Famously, Jewish tradition has amplified the account in Maccabees with the story of how, when they sought to light the Temple's the seven-branch candelabrum (menorah), they found just a one-day supply of olive oil that had escaped contamination by the Greeks. Miraculously, that one-day supply burned for eight days, until new oil could be prepared under ritually pure conditions. Thus, the holiday's famous ritual of the nightly lighting of the special Hanukkah menorah - one lamp or candle on the first night, two on the second, etc., until all eight lights have been lit. 

 

We can assume that Jesus observed Hanukkah. The Gospel of John - the New Testament book most attuned to the Jewish liturgical calendar - specifically mentions both the festival and Jesus' presence in the Jerusalem Temple: The feat of the Dedication was then taking place in Jerusalem. It was winter. And Jesus walked about in the temple area on the Portico of Solomon (John 10:22-23)It was during that celebration of Hanukkah that Jesus gave his famous “Good Shepherd” discourse.

 

Even beyond explicitly religious observance Hanukkah’s popularity seems deeply rooted. A 1960s radical friend of mine once told me how his socialist, religiously non-observant family celebrated no Jewish holidays – with the one exception of Hanukkah, which his socialist father considered a people’s holiday. 


Meanwhile, The restoration of the State of Israel and the repeated challenges to Israel’s existence and the Jewish people’s survival in their land has also obviously given renewed salience to Hanukkah, which originated, after all, as a recollection of the last sustained experience of Jewish independence prior to 1948With the 20th-century restoration of Israel as a Jewish state, the holiday's original historical significance has, naturally enough, undergone a revival, and both the Jewish theme of national liberation and the universal theme of cultural and religious freedom have moved to center stage. Religiously, this patriotic holiday, rooted in Israel's struggle against a secularizing political establishment, also simultaneously celebrates God's miraculously abiding presence among his people.

 

This year, the current threats to Israel from Hamas, Hezbollah, and Iran, and the widespread increase in expressions of antisemitism all around the world (including in the U.S.), highlight the relevance of Hanukkah for Israel, for Jews everywhere, and for all people of good will who support the survival of the Jewish people against contemporary enemies every bit as implacable as Antiochus IV. 

 

For Jews, of course, Hanukkah has its own integrity and fullness of meaning apart from any Christian glosses. For Christians, however, God’s intervention in history to save his people and God's abiding presence with his people (signified by the Temple and, more immediately, by the miracle of the oil) are Hanukkah themes which can also resonate readily with the Christmas story. For the Incarnation is, after all, the fulfillment of God's ancient promise to save his people, which he does by becoming present among us in his Son's humanity. And like the miracle of the oil, the Incarnation has a modest, ordinary appearance. 

 

Just as the Hanukkah story contrasts the monstrous pomposity of the Hellenistic king and his elite collaborators with the more powerful simplicity of God's powerful will to save his people, so too for Christians the Christmas story contrasts the pretentiously false power of pagan emperors, kings, and governors (Augustus, Herod, Quirinius) with the divine power of the Word-made-flesh, in whom God's great visitation of the world he created continues. Meanwhile, the Hanukkah story reminds us that, despite historical and contemporary obstacles, the divine presence, symbolized by the long-burning oil, continues in his people Israel, for the gifts and call of God are irrevocable (Romans 11:29).


Photo: Lighting the large menorah near the Ellipse, close to the White House, The New York Times.

Wednesday, December 25, 2024

Merry Christmas!

 

I suppose that practically everyone in the English-speaking world has heard of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. We’ve probably all seen one or more of the movie versions. In Dickens’ story – as in the Gospel according to Saint Luke – while a lot happens during the night, it’s on Christmas morning when it all seems to come together!

 

Uniquely in the Church’s calendar, Christmas is observed by the celebration of three different Masses. Historically, this second Mass of Christmas – the “Mass at Dawn” – has sometimes been called the “Shepherds’ Mass,” because of the prominent part played by shepherds in the Gospel we just heard. Back in the fourth century, St. Ambrose of Milan (340-397) famously called their arrival at the manger “the beginning of the infant Church.” 

 

Often, however, the shepherds seem as if they were mainly just filling in the time between the great Gloria in excelsis Deo of the angels and the star-lit arrival of the more glamorous Magi. Who, in any period would prefer being a shepherd to, let’s say, being a king? 

 

Back in first-century Israel, shepherds didn’t merit much status either. As often happens with low-status jobs that provide essential services (think of immigrant laborers today, who do so much of the essential work of our society), the shepherds were under-appreciated and probably poor. The widespread tendency to admire the rich and despise the poor – what Adam Smith (1723-1790) called “the great and most universal cause of the corruption of our moral sentiments” – was likely as universal then as it is now.

 

Thus, it was probably a surprise to everyone (including the shepherds) when the angel announced the birth of a savior - to them. To them, a multitude of the heavenly hostproclaimed peace. This was at the time of the so-called pax romana, the peace Rome had imposed on the Mediterranean world the way earthy peace has usually been imposed from the first century to the twenty-first – by conquest. But this was to be a new kind of peace. 

For perhaps the very first time, the shepherds experienced a free gift, rather than a commercial transaction. That gift was nothing less than what Saint Paul called the kindness and generous love of God our savior. The shepherds were being invited to experience God’s kindness and generous love themselves, and then to share it with others. And, just as surprisingly, that’s exactly what they did!

In standard Nativity scenes, the shepherds seemingly stick around forever. They’re still kneeling there when the Magi arrive. In reality, however, they stayed just long enough to find Mary and Joseph and Jesus. And then the shepherds went back to work and to their ordinary lives. But nothing for them would ever be ordinary again. They returned glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen. However socially insignificant they may have been, however ordinary the lives they returned to, the kingdom of God was being born among them. 

And, however insignificant and ordinary we and our daily concerns may seem today, the kingdom of God is also being born among us – if only, like the shepherds, we hasten to find it in Mary’s Son, whose coming into the world represents a decisive transformation of our world. As Saint Irenaeus observed in the late second century, “in bringing himself, Christ has brought all newness.” [Against Heresies, 4.31.1].

The same Son of God who revealed himself to the shepherds in the Son of Mary continues to reveal himself to us in his Church this Christmas morning. Like the shepherds, we too hasten with wonder to find him and to be found in turn. And, as his Church, we continue doing what the shepherds did, making known to one another and to the world the message about this child in whom the kindness and generous love, the mercy and forgiveness, of God our savior have appeared and forever more continue to appear.

Among us this Christmas morning, no less than among those shepherds so long ago, the kingdom of God is being born, breaking into our otherwise ordinary, self-enclosed world and offering it the precious possibility of hope, which happens to be the theme of the Jubilee year that begins this Christmas with the ritual opening of the Holy Door in Rome. 

In his announcement of this Jubilee Year, Pope Francis wrote, “We need to recognize the immense goodness present in our world, lest we be tempted to think ourselves overwhelmed by evil and violence. The signs of the times, which include the yearning of human hearts in need of God’s saving presence, ought to become signs of hope.”

I suggest we see our models for this in the shepherds, in their openness to the angle’s surprising message and their enthusiastic response, going to Bethlehem to see this thing that has taken place.

So, when the last carol has been sung and we disperse from here to our happy homes and holiday meals (or perhaps, as many must, to a somewhat sad or lonely home, or to a modest, maybe meager meal), may that same precious and powerful hope move us and fill us and change us, as surely as it did those long ago shepherds – and so transform our frustration into fulfillment, our sadness into joy, our hatred into love, our loneliness into community, our rivals and competitors into brothers and sisters, and our inevitable death into eternal life.

Merry Christmas!

Homily for Christmas Day, Morning Mass, Saint Paul the Apostle Church, December 25, 2024.

Sunday, December 22, 2024

Carrying Christ Into Our World



This week, people all over the world will be visiting family or friends for Christmas. So, what more fitting Gospel account for this final Advent Sunday than the forever familiar story of Mary’s visit to Elizabeth?

 

On the other hand, as we all well know, holiday visits are not always as wonderful as we would like them to be or as we try to pretend that they are – whether for the visitors themselves or for the ones being visited. There was a lot of chatter in the media at Thanksgiving time about how difficult this year’s Thanksgiving dinner conversations could be because of political differences within families. Personally, I find that concern somewhat troubling, because it presumes, first, that this is the only time of year when many of us talk at all to some of our relatives, and, second, that most people live in politically defined bubbles and do not normally speak or engage with anyone they disagree with, all of which is really quite troubling. That said, it is hard sometimes to show affection when affection is not fully felt, to come up with the right words that won’t cause or exacerbate conflict! This is, as that great 19th-century fan of Christmas, Charles Dickens, delightfully described it: “the only time … on the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely.” Sometimes, however, opening our “shut-up hearts” may be difficult, undertaken only grudgingly – more a matter of duty than desire – or, more likely some confusing combination of the two. How fitting, then, to hear today about a visit by someone whose motives, we know, were never mixed!  

 

The traditional site of Zechariah and Elizabeth’s home and so the presumed site of the Visitation is a little town some five miles west of Jerusalem – a journey of several days from Galilee through Samaria to Judea. Obviously, we cannot know now exactly what Mary may have felt as she undertook that difficult journey, in response to God’s plan that had been revealed to her by an angel. 


But the story does say she set out in haste. No procrastination, no putting off what, to our “shut-up hearts,” might seem merely a dutiful but burdensome social obligation.    Perhaps, she sought to draw on the wisdom and strength of her older relative. Surely, she must have wanted to make contact (in a world without social media) with the only other person who had thus far been let in on God’s great plan, that was even then quite literally taking shape in the bodies of these two remarkable women.

 

After so long, Elizabeth in her old age had also conceived a son - and had responded to this incredible favor by going into seclusion. Also unexpectedly pregnant, Mary had responded to this problematic and potentially dangerous development by rushing off to visit Elizabeth. 

 

Instead of shouting her good news to the world (which until then had reproached her for being childless), Elizabeth waited silently for the miracle’s full meaning to make itself known. Instead of cautiously keeping quiet, Mary rushed to tell all to Elizabeth, thus showing her own complete confidence in the God who had totally taken over her life.

 

What a wonderful story, this episode in the greatest story ever heard, this story that every year at this time demonstrates its incredible capacity to command our attention and touch us where we feel it most deeply!  Every year, despite all the personal and political tragedies and difficulties that get in the way, all sorts of people, all over the world, with different personalities and preoccupations, different needs and wants, different fears and hopes, hear the Christmas story and are captivated by it - for it speaks directly to each one of us, reviving our capacity to believe and our willingness to hope.

 

Back in fifth century Christian North Africa, one of the great Doctors of the Church, Saint Augustine, said: “If God’s Word had not become flesh and had not dwelt among us, we would have had to believe that there was no connection between God and humanity, and we would have been in despair.” That is what the Christmas story is all about – a reason not to despair, an incentive to hope. How fitting, therefore, that the forthcoming Jubilee Year which will begin on Christmas has for its focus hope!

 

The God for whom Elizabeth silently waited for so long, the God whom Mary carried in her womb so faithfully, has come at last to live with us. In the process, he connects us not only with himself but with one another. As he brought Mary and Elizabeth together, filled with the Holy Spirit, so he leads us to one another and unites us, thought the same Holy Spirit, in a new community, formed by faith, directed by hope, and alive with love. And we, as a result, must never let things be the same again!

 

And they won’t be if, like Elizabeth, when we hear him coming, we offer him the hospitality of our hearts, and if, like Mary, having conceived him in our hearts, we are willing to carry him into the world with confidence – so that, through each of our no longer “shut up” but now wide open hearts, Christ can truly be our hope and become so for all the world.

 

Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Advent, Saint Paul the Apostle Church, NY, December 22, 2024.


Photo: Paulist Fathers' Motherhouse Chapel, NY.

Friday, December 20, 2024

An Old Book for a New Day

 


Recently, there has been a resurgence of interest in a book from 1981, American Politics: The Promise of Disharmony (Harvard U. Pr.), by the then political scientist and Harvard Professor of International Affairs, Samuel P. Huntington (1927-2008), author most famously of Political order in Changing Societies (1968) and The Clash of Civilizations? (1993). In 1981, I was at the end of my political science career, and I somehow managed to miss American Politics: The Promise of Disharmony, an omission I have now at last corrected.

When on sabbatical at Windsor Castle in 2005 and on other occasions when explaining (or, at least, trying) to explain “American Exceptionalism” to foreigners, I have usually fallen back on the distinction between ethnically identified nation states (e.g., France, Germany, Italy, etc.) and the very different civic identity of the United States, something Samuel Huntington in this prescient book calls our American creedal identity. By the “American Creed,” Huntington has in mind certain basic values and ideas - such as those articulated in the Declaration of Independence and other classic American expressions – which are widely and broadly endorsed by most Americans and which have continued for over 200 years to occupy a central place in American National identity. Particularly prominent among these creedal values, according to Huntington, are the 18th-century value of liberty and the 19th-century value of equality, with the former generally accorded precedence by Americans.

Huntington highlights the high degree of consensus among Americans with regard to the values of this creed, with the broadest consensus “among those more active in the system and who benefit the most from it.” The failure of any serious socialist movement in the U.S. “is perhaps the most dramatic evidence of the preponderance of liberal-democratic values in America.” 

Of particular significance for Huntington is how “all the varying elements in the American Creed unite in imposing limits on power and on the institutions of government.”

Of course, there is an inevitable gap between the ideals of the American creed and actual reality. This gap – more precisely, the varied ways Americans respond to this cognitive dissonance - is the basis for much of Huntington’s analysis. “Cleavage in the United States thus does not take the form of idea versus idea as in Europe, but rather of idea versus fact.” 

Huntington identifies four responses to this cognitive dissonance - moralistic reform ("eliminating the gap"), cynicism ("tolerating the gap"), complacency ("ignoring the gap"), and hypocrisy ("denying the gap"). Presciently, in terms of subsequent political history (and recent elections), he notes that those "who have less income and less education and who do not occupy leadership roles are more likely to be hypocritical or moralistic and lower status people cynical or complacent."

Huntington's emphasis is mainly on the periods of moralistic reforms, what he calls "creedal passion periods," which occur periodically through American history. He identifies four such periods in particular: the American Revolution, the Jacksonian era, the Progressive era, and the 1960s-1970s. "The Revolutionary era was the prototypical period of creedal passion. The three later periods represented a rearticulation of the themes of the Revolutionary years and a replay of the features and patterns of Revolutionary politics." The general direction of these efforts was "to make political institutions more responsive, more liberal, more democratic."

With certain exceptions, the great reforms in American political history have been associated with these periods, which seem to have occurred at approximately 60-year intervals. Reforms have not, however, been unambiguously successful. "The reforms of one generation often produce the vested interests of the next."

Another theme to which the author gives some attention is religion. "Not only was America born equal and hence did not have to become so, but it was also born Protestant and hence did not have to become so." The lack of establishment reinforced the weakening of the state, while strengthening religion.

Bringing his analysis forward, Huntington foresaw several possibilities. First, the core creedal values, which derive from the 17th and 18th centuries, could "come to be seen as increasingly irrelevant in a complex modern economy and a threatening international environment," an irrelevance potentially exacerbated by rising secularism. Second, the transition to post-industrial society could be accompanied by an increasingly "communitarian" ideology, in place of Lockean individualism. Third, the increasing influence of recent immigrants could also dilute that Lockean tradition. Finally, having been in existence as a nation for over 200 years, what Huntington calls "the ideational basis of national identity" might "be replaced by an organic one." In his book, Huntington did not foresee these developments occurring in the late 20th century. Given the changes that have characterized the first quarter of the 21st century, however, Huntington's concerns appear to have much more relevant merit. 

Huntington was also veery prescient in considering future possibilities for the traditional pattern of American creedal movements. One possibility would be continuity, with "a major sustained creedal passion period" occurring in the second and third decades of this century (in other words, now). A second possibility would be a stabilizing greater acceptance of this cognitive dissonance. Finally, the third possibility, which he considered the most dangerous one, may also be the most relevant for our present predicament. Huntington notes "the continued presence of deeply felt moralistic sentiments among major groups in American society could continue to ensure weak and divided government, devoid of authority and unable to deal satisfactorily with the economic, social, and foreign challenges confronting the nation. Intensification of this conflict between history and progress could give rise to increasing frustration and increasingly violent oscillations between moralism and cynicism. ... The weakening of government in an effort to reform it could lead eventually to strong demands for the replacement of the weakened and ineffective institutions by more authoritarian structures more effectively designed to meet historical needs."

A lot has happened in this country since the las creedal passion period in the 1960s and 1970s, which was the immediate background for Huntington's work. It remains to be seen which of his predictions may come to pass and exactly how under these new political conditions. Meanwhile the scenario Huntington feared most - an increasing embrace of anti-creedal authoritarian structures - seems increasingly realistic. Huntinton may have predicted better than he knew.









Wednesday, December 18, 2024

A 19th-Century Vision for a Polarized Nation

 

 

One of the current popular preoccupations (both before and since the recent election) has been the destructive divisiveness and political polarization that characterize contemporary American society. Everywhere we look, Americans appear more divided than at any time in our recent history. Certainly, our two political parties have moved apart, which is to say that the once central middle ground previously occupied by moderate-to-liberal 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. It is likewise obviously problematic that we have increasingly re-sorted themselves socially, politically, geographically, and most evidently educationally. 


In the post-war world in which I grew up, American pluralistic politics used to be characterized by what were commonly called "cross-cutting cleavages." That 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 American pluralist political thought. In contrast, "reinforcing cleavages" occur when the groups and issues which one identifies with all fall on the same side of the political spectrum.  The problem is not that there are disagreements among different groups with different interests, which is, of course, inevitable; but that the differences are increasingly reinforcing, rather than cross-cutting.  All of which at best tests - and at worst corrodes - our capacity to advance the country's interests and the common good.


Many have compared this situation to the pre-Civil War period in American history. It was, of course, precisely in that period of division and polarization - in 1857, the same year as the infamous Dred Scott decision that helped make the Civil War inevitable - that the Paulist Fathers' founder, Servant of God Isaac Hecker, proposed to Blessed Pope Pius IX that Catholicism might “act like oil on troubled waters” and so “sustain our institutions and enable our young country to realize its great destiny.”


Isaac Hecker lived from 1819 to 1888. (Today would have been his 205th birthday.) His life spanned the Second Great Awakening, the rise (and fall) of Jacksonian democracy, the U.S. Civil War, and the Gilded Age, formative periods for 19th-century America with lingering lessons for us now in the 21st century.


For Hecker, the Roman Catholic Church - as the Body of Christ which continues the mission of Christ’s Incarnation in the world - was a powerfully unifying force, binding citizens together, and thus blunting the dangerously sharp cutting edges of conflict and dissension, fusing the private interests of individuals and factions into a common social and civic unity.At the heart of what he said and wrote, was this basic appreciation of what he had experienced in the Catholic  Church as the Body of Christ which continues Christ’s life and work in the world - and the individual and social effects which flow from openness to that divine activity. As he wrote in his final book, published the year before he died, “The church must justly be said to be the expansion prolongation, and perpetration of the Incarnation” (The Church and the Age). 


Hecker’s charism is thus a continuing invitation to read and reread our time and place through the unique experience of the Church’s life and then to share that experience with the world in our particular time and place. So, while many of Hecker’s 19th-century hopes and aspirations have obviously been contradicted by historical developments, we may still rightly seek inspiration in Hecker’s vision of social reconciliation through religious renewal. In our own time of religious division and decline, we may do well to look at our church life more intensely through this particular lens.

 

Hecker’s proposed solution to the problem of polarization was the Roman Catholic Church, which he himself had discovered as the solution to his own spiritual search. That search had started at an early age, in the era of religious revival known as the Second Great Awakening, which was even more socially and politically conscious than the earlier, colonial-era First Great Awakening. Much of the distinctive character American culture and its mingling of religion and politics stem from this period. It was when the U.S. became what Chesterton would famously call (1922): “a nation with the soul of a church.” 


In our contemporary idiom, Hecker had been “spiritual but not religious” for the first 25 years of his life. The story of his spiritual search eloquently exemplifies the appeal of such searching and speaks to the spiritual longings of some in our own society today. What was significant about Hecker’s “spiritual but not religious” period, however, was that he did not remain that way. For Hecker, seeking was never an end in itself. The point of seeking was finding. Once the object was found, the search ended. Having found fulfillment in the Catholic Church, he never desired to look farther. Rather, he desired to devote his life to helping others – especially other seekers, such as he himself had been – to find the truth in the Catholic Church. His missionary activity reflected his deep devotion and fidelity to the Church. Above all, he prized the unity and universality of the Church, which had attracted him to it in the first place. Reflecting upon his experience many years later, Hecker wrote that he “not only became a most firm believer in the mysteries of the Christian religion, but a priest and a religious, hopes thus to die.” For us today, living in an era when people find it increasingly hard to make substantial commitments, those are words well worth meditating upon.


In 19th-century Europe, in the wake of the French Revolution and its aftermath, the Catholic Church was struggling to survive as an institution against an increasingly individualistic and irreligious liberal political order that sought to constrain it. In reaction, the 19th century Church sought to counteract the growing social fragmentation and to reconnect increasingly isolated individuals into a community by preserving, repairing, or restoring religious bonds. One approach was to assert the Church’s claims to authority as vigorously as possible and to insist upon the Church’s political privileges and institutional rights in relation to the state and upon the traditional constitutional arrangements (for example, the union of throne and altar) that appeared most compatible with the Church’s social and political position, if only because of the security this seemingly offered in the face of frightening and unpredictable change. 


(A somewhat contemporary version of that is “Integralism,” which is enjoying a certain renaissance among conservative Catholic intellectuals, but which, whatever may be said as an abstraction, seems unlikely to have any serious prospect of relevance in an American context, something Hecker certainly understood.) 

 

Hecker’s religious alternative to that primarily political approach envisaged a social solution in which citizens, converted to Catholicism as the answer to their deepest human aspirations would be empowered, by combining true religion and democratic political institutions, to develop society along Catholic lines. His was a thoroughly religious form of discourse, uniquely capable of addressing social and political concerns.

 

Whereas for Hecker’s famous contemporary Karl Marx (1818-1883), religion meant alienation and its survival in society showed the inadequacy of its purely political separation from the state, for Hecker Roman Catholicism was the fulfillment of the most authentic aspirations of human nature; and its power to transform society through the conversion of citizens more than compensated for the Church’s loss of political power thanks to its separation from the State.

 

In one of his last Catholic World articles, published in the year he died, Hecker, quoting an anonymous acquaintance, said “he didn’t care for union of church and state if he could have union of church and people.” Such comments convey how he continued to conceptualize religion’s role in the transformation of society, and how he confidently expected this to accomplish more effectively what others hoped for from politics.

 

Hecker never wavered in his conviction that what he had found in Catholicism – and what he had been able to find only in Catholicism – could and would be America’s answer as well. Having himself experienced the divided and fragmented character of modern society, Hecker had found an alternative in the mission of the Church, as the organic temporal expression of Christ’s life, to continue Christ’s work by pouring oil on the troubled waters of the world. According to Hecker, to discern the Church’s action clearly, “and to cooperate with it effectually, is the highest employment of our faculties, and at the same time the primary source of the greatest good to society” (The Church and the Age). 

 

On this basis, Hecker rooted the renewal of American society in a Catholic religious renewal inseparable from the spiritual renewal of his fellow citizens made possible by grace. Hecker’s important insight was that, since all creation is always ultimately ordered to grace, even certain new situations and social arrangements, which are perceived as obstacles, (like American democracy and separation of church and state) may actually be new opportunities for individual and social transformation through the Church’s ongoing realization of Christ’s incarnation. Today we might also ask what other novelties which might be perceived as obstacles might really be opportunities?

 

Hecker was well aware that his spiritual insights into American democracy’s compatibility with Catholicism and what Catholicism had to offer to America hardly corresponded to conventional wisdom – on either side of the Atlantic. He never wavered, however, in his conviction that what he had been able to find only in Catholicism could and would be America’s answer as well. He combined Catholic universalism and a distinctly American self-understanding of the relationship between religion and society in a providential perspective, which could work politically within the framework bequeathed by classical liberalism’s separation of society and state. 


Admittedly, much of what Hecker admired about America, including its egalitarianism and sociability, no longer characterizes the contemporary post-industrial, late-capitalist, centralized state the U.S. has largely become. Likewise, American Catholicism - the religious remedy he posited for the social fragmentation which the United States still experiences - has changed as well. While conversions continued both during and after Hecker’s lifetime, they have never been in the numbers necessary to make the kind of impact on society Hecker had hoped for. What did make an impact, then and now, has been immigration, which has historically uniquely positioned the American Catholic Church to play a prominent part in the desperately required mission of cultural, ethnic, and racial reconciliation in this country, assuming the Church in America can summon the will to play that part.  

 


 


Monday, December 16, 2024

The Electors Vote



Tomorrow is presidential election day in the United States. Yes, tomorrow! It is the day when, according the 12th Amendment to the Constitution, The Electors shall meet in their respective states and vote by ballot for President and Vice-President, one of whom, at least, shall not be an inhabitant of the same state with themselves; they shall name in their ballots the person voted for as President, and in distinct ballots the person voted for as Vice-President, and they shall make distinct lists of all persons voted for as President, and of all persons voted for as Vice-President, and of the number of votes for each, which lists they shall sign and certify, and transmit sealed to the seat of the government of the United States, directed to the President of the Senate.

For philosophical reasons, rooted in classical city-state and Roman republican experience as well as classical political theory, the Founders feared direct democracy, and were understandably reluctant to countenance direct popular election of the president. Direct democracy was anyway impossible in a large continental republic, where any form of constitutional government was obviously going to have to be a representative system. The question was how much of a "mixed constitution" it should be, and how extensive should the democratic component be (which in the original constitution was confined to the House of Representatives). Philosophical issues aside, it appeared excessively challenging to imagine how citizens spread out over such an extensive territory would be able to know whom to vote for in a presidential election, given the communications and travel technology of the 18th century.

The founding philosophy was quickly undercut by the very unexpected but rapid development of political parties, which immediately nationalized American politics and presidential elections. Once political parties were structuring the vote and once more and more states used popular election to choose presidential electors, the founders' original concerns became more or less moot. The Washingtonian king-like, above-party model of President quickly evolved into the President as party leader. As a result, what the U.S. has had since the early 19th century has, in effect, been a de facto popular election of presidents, but with the electoral outcome distorted by the defective representation of the popular vote by two factors - the overrepresentation of smaller states in the electoral college and the almost universally used winner-take-all system of allocating electors.

For a long time, I appreciated the Electoral College for its stabilizing effect in maintaining a two-party system. (Single-member congressional districts and our "first-past-the-post" electoral system are also major factors in producing and maintaining a two-party system.) It is not so much that I think a two-party system is better than a multi-party one. In fact, I would probably prefer the latter - if we enjoyed a parliamentary system, which I would also prefer. But, in our presidential system (the ultimate "single-member district" writ large), it is hard to imagine how a multi-party system would work. In a parliamentary system, multiple interest-based parties compete and then may form coalitions after the election in order to govern. In our particular version of a two-party system, multiple interests form coalitions before the election in order to compete as two broadly coalitional parties. Yet, a multi-party electoral universe would be one of the more likely consequences of moving to a straight popular vote for president. How that would play out in practice is for now anyone's guess.

That said, the deficiencies in our electoral college process and the manifest harm it has done twice in this century in putting the popular loser in the White House, combined with the way the electoral college distorts our political campaigns, effectively confining them to a small number of states, these considerations have long since convinced me (and many others) that the electoral college no longer serves us well and instead ought to be confined to the discarded rubble of our constitutional history.

Of course, there isn't the slightest chance in the current political climate that the constitution could be amended to eliminate the electoral college.

And so the electors will meet tomorrow as the constitution and the law prescribe. On January 6, the votes will be counted. No surprises expected!

Image: The number of electoral votes, out of 538, allocated to each state and the District of Columbia for the 2024 and 2028 presidential elections, based on the 2020 census.