Libya

What to do about Libya? Or perhaps at this point the question should be what is Libya going to do to us? I grew up in the heyday of post-war internationalism. The very fact that a sitting U.S. senator was elected President in 1960 – for only the second time in U.S. history – has sometimes been cited as evidence of the importance of foreign affairs in the public’s mind in the 1950s and 1960s. In those days, the U.S. was the pre-eminent world power, and as such had more or less taken over the role previously played by the British Empire in world affairs. (The U.S. is still off-the-charts superior to anyone else militarily, of course, but back then it was the Great Power in all respects). A lot has changed since then – both in our country and in the world – but the U.S. is still the predominant global power, and I still expect to see it provide leadership in the world. So that means I am not one of those who reflexively shies away from foreign military involvements. That said, there are always many questions to be asked and answered before, during, and after any international military commitment. Part of what is so problematic about our present engagement in Libya is precisely how many questions have not been satisfactorily answered – and possibly not have not even been asked. With the U.S. still fighting two wars in the region, a certain hesitancy about any added involvement is, to say the least, prudent. Admittedly, the U.S. has important, compelling interests in the Middle East and in the larger Arab world. Oil is one, obviously, as is the security of Israel. If anything, the latter is, morally at least, more important than the former. Neither of those interests, however, is likely to be significantly impacted by the Civil War in Libya. The recent overthrow of a long-term ally in Egypt poses (potentially at least) a greater threat to stability in the region and in particular to peace between Israel and its neighbors. But, of course, such considerations all went by the wayside in our eagerness to be “on the right side of history.” (I take it as axiomatic that, if being "on the right side of history" is the best argument offered for any course of action, then it is probably not a course of action that merits recommendation! Egypt may well turn out just fine in the end anyway. It has reasonably, stable functioning social and political institutions and a well-respected army. Libya, after four decades of rule by a far worse dictator that Egypt ever had, will likely be in bad shape regardless of how its current Civil War ends. From the point of view of the long-suffering Libyan people, perhaps anything – including a protracted Civil War –may appear to be an improvement over Qaddafi. (I’m too used to the old spelling to change!) The Administration has pronounced Qaddafi’s regime illegitimate, while professing to eschew regime change. This inconsistent position could conceivably result precisely in a protracted Civil War with Qaddafi still in power for quite some time. It could result in a de facto partition of the country – Quaddafi still in power in Tripoli, the rebels in the east. In fact, all sorts of scenarios are possible, none particularly promising. Besides being a dictator (of whom there are a lot in the world, some better, some worse than others), Qaddafi has, for much of his reign, been an international bad boy – Lockerbie, the IRA, etc. So his overthrow would probably be a benefit to the world. But that was true too of Saddam Hussein, whose removal by President Bush our current President did not endorse at the time. (One of the ironies of the opposition to the 2003 Iraq War is that its opponents, despite often calling it an “illegal” or “unjust” war, never endorsed the obvious corollary of that proposition, i.e., that, if it was wrong to remove Saddam, then his regime should have been restored). In part, I suspect, because our ambivalent feelings as a nation about our experience in Iraq, our Libya policy is something of a muddle. War is unpredictable, and the best planned war can become a muddle. But when the thinking behind it, when the policy itself is a muddle, then “victory” (or whatever substitute is seen as success) seems that much more elusive. When all is said and done, we don’t know what outcome is likely in Libya, and we don’t even seem all that certain what kind of outcome we would like. That’s not an argument against intervention, but it is an argument for a clearer policy and for the democratic deliberation and debate which might get us there. Part of that debate, however, includes the question of how important Libya is in the larger scheme of things. Is Libya as important to us as Egypt or Saudi Arabia – or those middle-eastern bad guys Syria and Iran? And what about the world beyond the Middle East? And what about our own problems at home, which we persist in neglecting at our peril? Again, I am not one to say we should turn inward and, because we have problems and unmet needs at home, should therefore ignore our global responsibilities as the pre-eminent world power. But I have to admit that a cartoon in yesterday’s New York Times did make me take notice. It showed a big, cigarette-smoking, gun-carrying “Libyan Rebel” and a small, sad-looking, American boy, labeled simply “Student” The caption was Quiz: Which Underperformer Is Getting Additional U.S. Aid?

Halfway

Laetare Sunday signifies the mid-point of Lent. So the Church lightens its Lenten demeanor today. Most noticeably, the Lenten purple is relieved by the use of rose-colored vestments.

Yet, even as we pause to rejoice at being half-way through Lent, we move right into Lent’s 2nd half - its distinctive tone set, in part, by the Gospel of John, which portrays Jesus performing a special series of miracles, which John tellingly calls “signs.” The specific “sign” in today’s Gospel [John 9:1-41] is a truly monumental miracle, for (as the formerly blind man himself testifies to the authorities) it was unheard of that anyone ever opened the eyes of a person born blind.

Just as the man blind from birth receives physical sight, so he is also given increasing insight into who Jesus is, culminating in his profession of faith, “I do believe, Lord.” Meanwhile, he receives his sight through a series of steps in which he participates (as instructed). Jesus spits on the ground, makes a kind of clay which he smears on the man’s eyes, and tells him to wash in the Pool of Siloam. The man goes, washes, and returns - able to see.

Meanwhile we watch this unnamed (hence universal) “Everyman” develop his insight into who Jesus is – a growth in faith that exactly parallels the increasing unbelief of Jesus’ adversaries. Certainly they can see (with their physical eyes), but spiritually they are blind – obstinately so. Physically, the Pharisees could certainly see, but spiritually they would not see, because they already knew with absolute certitude that Jesus was not from God. Unlike the disability of the man blind from birth, theirs was a willful choice not to see.

God, however, has his own way of acting – as the story of his surprising selection of an apparently insignificant shepherd named David as Israel’s new king illustrates [1 Samuel 16]. Not as we see does God see. What God does can come as a complete surprise. Likewise, what God wants of us may also be a surprise.

The blind man’s meeting with Jesus caused him literally to see everything in an altogether new light – all because he had first been seen by Jesus himself and had gone where Jesus had sent him, allowing something new and different to happen when Jesus entered his life.

So it’s easy to appreciate why the Church chose this Gospel story to express what happens when one turns one’s life around and obeys Jesus’ command to go and wash in the waters of baptism. What happens is a wonderfully new and bright outlook on life. At the same time, it is also an enormous challenge. Embracing belief in Christ opens one to a new life of faith and a new community of worship and fellowship, but it also potentially puts one at odds with the darkness that may still seem at times to dominate the world. Saying “Yes” to Jesus inevitably means saying “No” to other options.

Lent is intended to be an especially transformative time for those preparing for Baptism at Easter. Just as the blind man’s encounter with Jesus proved totally transforming for him, so the new birth of baptism, the gift of the Holy Spirit, and communion with the Christ in the Church are fundamentally transformative experiences, intended to empower the baptized to live as children of light, producing every kind of goodness [Ephesians 5:8-9].

Lent, however, is for all of us, however long ago we were baptized, however long-term our membership in the Church. All of us are being challenged to continuing conversion our entire lives. Lent is our opportunity to be challenged, as were the Pharisees, to reject our own blind spots and to respond anew to Jesus’ invitation to live in the light.

Baptism is but the first sacrament of conversion, the first sacramental remedy for sin. The challenge to live as children of light in fact and to keep on producing every kind of goodness remains an ongoing one. The conversion to which we are all called is a continuing challenge to say “Yes” to Christ and “No” to other options. That challenge continues throughout the entire course of life. It obviously does not cease with baptism, but rather begins anew. For us, who are already baptized, therefore, there is a second sacrament of forgiveness – what the early Church charmingly called “the second plank after shipwreck” – the sacrament of Penance, in which, through the ministry of the Church, we receive forgiveness from God for the sins committed after baptism and so may be repeatedly reconciled with God and with one another.

If we manage to do nothing else during this Lent, let us at least make it a point to do that.

Homily for the 4th Sunday of Lent, Immaculate Conception Church, Knoxville, TN,

April 3, 2011

Laetare Sunday

Tomorrow is Laetare Sunday. The liturgical mid-point of Lent - the arithmetic mid-point was actually this past Thursday - is traditionally called Laetare (“Rejoice”) Sunday, because of the opening word of the Latin Introit for this Sunday’s Mass (based on Isaiah 66:10-11) - Laetare Jerusalem: et conventum facite, omnes que diligitis eam: gaudete cum laetitia, qui in tristitia fuistis: ut exsultetis, et satiemini ab uberibus consolationis vestrae.

Being half-way through Lent probably mattered much more back when Lent was really taken seriously, but it still serves as a significant marker on the road toward Easter – both the Easter that is three weeks away and the eternal Easter, which is our ultimate goal. So, even though it is Lent, the Church lightens its Lenten demeanor tomorrow, allowing flowers to decorate altars and more extensive organ playing. Most noticeably, the Lenten purple is relieved by the use of rose-colored vestments, which are what really make Laetare Sunday so noticeable.

Given the state of the world, it may sometimes seem as if all of life were one long Lent. Certainly, the traditional Lenten practices of prayer, self-denial, and charity are necessary all year long - and all life long. Laetare Sunday is less a break from that dimension of Christian life than it is a highlighting of the ultimately joyful focus of such a life.

Appropriately, Laetare Sunday has also been the traditional day for the annual blessing of the Golden Rose, a gold ornament blessed by the Pope and bestowed as a papal honor. It has been given to kings, queens, princes, princesses, governments, cities, churches, and shrines. During his 2008 pilgrimage to the U.S., Pope Benedict XVI bestowed it on the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington, D.C. According to Pope Innocent III (1160-1216): “As Laetare Sunday, the day set apart for this function, represents love after hate, joy after sorrow, and fullness after hunger, so does the rose, by its color, odor, and taste, designate love, joy, and satiety respectively.”

In YouTube's rich treasury of historic videos, I have fooudn at least two (one British, one Italian) of Queen Elena of Italy receiving the Golden Rose in 1937 on the occasion of her 25th wedding anniversary: http://www.britishpathe.com/record.php?id=7321 and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XTh6iGG2RAI.

Born Princess Jelena of Montenegro in 1873, she became a Catholic and married the future King Vittorio Emmanuele III of Italy in 1896, becoming Queen Elena of Italy in 1900. Her frugal husband once remarked that, if he were not so careful about his money, the Queen would completely impoverish them by giving it all away to the poor. She died in exile in France in 1952. The cause for her canonization was introduced in 2001.

Speaking of candidates for sainthood, today marks the 6th anniversary of the death of the Venerable Servant of God, Pope John Paul II, who will be beatified one month from now on May 1, after which we will be able to pray: Blessed John Paul II, pray for us.

April Fool's Legislation

Like everyone else, I suppose I have been the victim of the occasional April Fool's Day prank; but being basically a somewhat dour person, I have never really taken much interest in the day itself or the silly customs connected with it. (I do find it mildly interesting that historians seem to connect its origin with the 16th-century change from the Julian to the Gregorian calendar - but only mildly).

Unfortunately, however, it seems that April Fool's Day is increasingly becoming an all-year event in our peculiar political culture, but the consequences are much more problematic than mere pranks.

In Washington, we have the apparently permanent unwillingness of Congressmen to grow up enough to do that most fundamental function of a legislative body - pass an annual budget. Instead we have the ongoing soap opera of short-term "continuing resolutions," each passed under the imminent threat of a governmenal "shutdown" - precisely the kind of classic made-for-TV circus that nowadays takes the place of democratic deliberation and debate.

As if that weren't bad enough, here on the state level we have such inanities as proposals for a separate state currency. Even worse (because actually enacted into law), the state of Tennessee two weeks ago (almost April Fool's Day) passed something called the "Health Freedom Act," which declares it to be "the public policy of this state" that every person has the right "to refuse to purchase health insurance." Needless to say, this law has little to do with either "health" or "freedom," but a lot to do with the obsession in certain quarters with opposing - at any cost -the health insurance reform passed by Congress just a year ago (childishly referred to as "Obamacare" by its right-wing opponents).

To be fair, there is a legitimate debate about the constitutionality of that reform's provision requiring indiviudals to purchase health insurance. Sooner or later (preferably sooner than later), that question will find its way to the Supreme Court and a legal precedent will be set, one way or the other. In the interim, however, is state nullification of national legislation a rational answer?

It's not like we haven't been down this road before. This spring, we are commemorating the 150th anniversary of the start of the Civil War, which supposedly settled once and for all that we really are one country with a national government. In the run-up to the dissolution of the Union, the conflict between national sovereignty and the parochial interests of states was a constant theme - and not just in relation to slavery. It came up in "Federalist" New England in oppositon to the President Madison's (admittedly stupid) War of 1812. It came up again with a vengeance in the 1830s, when South Carolina sought to treat as null and void certain federal tariffs. Then, it was no less a southerner than President Andrew Jackson who, fulfilling his constitutional duty "to take care that the laws be faithfully executed," took on the nullificationists - warning them that the course they proposed to pursue would be "one of ruin and disgrace to the very state whose rights they affect to support."

Where is an Andrew Jackson now when we need his like again?

The Crucifix in Italy's Classrooms

When the Kingdom of Italy was created in Turin on March 17, 1861, uniting the northern Piedmontese Kingdom of Sardinia with the southern Kingdom of the Two Sicilies (whose Bourbon monarchy had recently been overthrown by Garibaldi's army), the new kingdom was aggressively secular - "aggressive," that is, in an Italian sense, what we might call "aggressive Italian style." This was very much the spirit of the age - that is, of 19th-century liberal nationlism. Given the Pope's persistent sovereignty over Rome, it was perhaps inevitable that any nationalist movement aimed at Italian unity (liberal or not, although in fact 19th-century nationalist movements tended to be liberal) would be anti-clerical in character. This was so despite the fact that the reigning house of the new Kingdom of Italy, the House of Savoy (one of the oldest royal houses in Europe) had a long history of devotion to the Church (and was - until King Umberto II's death in 1983 - the owner of the holy relic, the Shroud of Turin). The bad blood between Italy and the Holy See would only escalate, of course, after Italy's conquest of Rome from the Pope in 1870, reducing the Pope-King to a "Prisoner of the Vatican."

All this changed again, of course, in 1929, when Benito Mussolini, then considered a "man sent by Providence," accomplished what the liberal governments that had preceded his had so conspicuouly failed to do - reconcile Church and State, in a way that benefited both. The Concordat that accompanied the Lateran Treaty established Catholicism as the official religion of the kingdom. My mother can still remember the day when the crucifix was restored to the school classroom.

Mussolini is long gone - as is the House of Savoy. Republican Italy retained the concordat in its constitution, however, and the crucifix stayed up in the school classrooms. Italy is now, of course, part of the EU, that anti-democratic, imperial buereaucracy that seeks to subsume all national and cultural differences under its almighty boot - a notoriously secularist boot.

The EU's twin imperatives of cultural homogenization and secularization came together in a 2009 judgment by the European Court of Human Rights that the Italian law requiring curcifixes in public school classrooms violates the "European Convention on Human Rights." Italy appealed in 2010, and won its case in a March 18, 2011, decision of the European Court of Human Rights' appellate court.

Had the decision gone the other way, one wonders what Italy might have done. Personally, I would have loved to have seen Italy defy the EU Court and assert its proper sovereignty over its own internal affairs and historic culture. Given the increasingly perilous condition of the Eu (brought on in large part by its foolhardy decision to adopt the Euro), perhaps member states might have found the courage to defy the tyranny of Brussels bureaucrats. Perhaps not.

In any event, the Court ruled in Italy's favor, but did so on such bizarre grounds that one wonders what the judges might have been thinking. If the Court had simply ruled in favor of the crucifix on the grounds that the presence of the crucifix in the public school classroom (like the crucifix in Quebec's National Assembly or "In God We Trust" on American currency) is part of the coutntry's historic and cultural heritage, that would have made sense - and would have been a welcome recognition both of Italian sovereignty. Likewise, arguing that the presence of the crucifix in the public school classroom reflects the obvious will of the overwhelming majoirty of Italians woudl have been a welcome argument - an expression of some modest deference ont he part of the EU bureaucracy to that most un-EU value, democracy. However, the Court went further with truly weird arguments suggesting that the presence of the crucifix had no really religious significance and coveyed no really religious message.

All who believe in democracy and national sovereignty should certainly support the continued presence of the crucifix in Italy's public school classrooms. Those of us who also believe the crucifix actually signifies something more than merely a quaint cultural-historical memory must, however, be troubled by such weird reasoning. It is an undisputable historical fact that the Chrisitian religion (and indeed the Church as an institution) are inextricably linked to Western culture and to try to excise them from Western culture can only be based on historical mendacity. That said, believing Christians must also continue to assert the real, live, present-tense significance and evangelizing power of Christian symbols, and so resist their reduction to artifacts in a historical theme-park.