Eyes on the Prize

Mr. Benedict settled back against his desk. ‘It’s natural that you feel as you do, Reynie.  There is much more to the world than most children – indeed, most adults – ever see or know.  And where most people see mirrors, you, my friend, see windows.  By which I mean there is always something beyond the glass.  You have seen it and will always see it now, though others may not.  I would have spared you this vision at such a young age.  But it’s been given you, and it will be up to you to decide whether it’s a blessing or a curse.’

‘Excuse me, Mr. Benedict, but how can it possibly be a blessing to know that people are untrustworthy?’

Mr. Benedict looked at Reynie askance. ‘Rather than answer that, allow me to call attention to the assumption you’re making – the assumption that most people are untrustworthy.  Have you considered the possibility, Reynie, that wickedness is simply more noticeable than goodness? That wickedness stands out, as it were…? Let me ask you: have you ever had a dream in which, having spied a deadly snake at your feet, you suddenly begin to see snakes everywhere – suddenly realize, in fact, that you’re surrounded by them?’

Reynie was surprised. ‘I have had that dream.  It’s a nightmare!’

‘Indeed. And it strikes me as being rather like when a person first realizes the extent of wickedness in the world.  That vision can become all-consuming – and in a way, it, too, is a nightmare, by which I mean that it is not quite a proper assessment of the state of things.  For someone as observant as you, Reynie, deadly serpents always catch the eye.  But if you find that serpents are all you see, you may not be looking hard enough.’

-          The Mysterious Benedict Society, Book 2, p. 37-39

One of the most important insights of phenomenology is that of intention – the idea that we knowing subjects have the power to decide what we focus our senses on and what objects will be in our epistemic circle of concern.  It is true that we are influenced by a great many things – from our socialization to media, peer influences and pressures, education, and a host of other things.  But it is also true that we can become aware of those influences and that they become objects of our knowledge as well.  We then become aware of the fact that we can stand outside of those influences and evaluate them.

Once we develop this awareness and the power we have over influences, we can then have the insight from the quotation above.  The narratives of the culture warriors on both sides of the spectrum are terribly wrong and exist to get us to act based out of fear rather than love.  The culture warriors are more interested in being influencers and in controlling various instruments of influence in media, education, government, and religion.  They are not inviting us to pursue truth but rather to accept a narrative.  They are the fire people in Plato’s cave who cast shadows on the wall and make noises all while keeping us chained to the wall, forced to accept their narratives. 

But once we unshackle the chains and explore the cave, we come to an awareness of the influences and influencers.  We come to recognize that the cave is not all there is – that there is a way out of the cave to a whole different world and perspective.  There we discover the goodness of the world and we invite others to discover it as well – to leave behind the cynical world of the cave which is small indeed compared to the vast goodness existing in the universe. 

The culture warriors within religious traditions who perpetually posit the endless list of evils in the world are in fact atheists.  For they have looked at the problem of evil and determined evil greater than good in the world, which is a denial of the goodness and infinite nature of God.  Good by definition has to be greater than evil, in which case evil is a finite if we regard it as a being at all.

So once again pay no heed to those behind the green curtain and who would manipulate us for their own ends.  Take a second look at the world to see the good, and in seeing the good come to realize it is greater than the evil we imagine and experience.

The Church's Treasure

 

The Treasure of the Church

In what does the treasure of the Church consist? To the aesthetic it would be found in art, music, architecture and other fineries of beauty.  To the dogmatist it would consist in the “deposit of faith” given to the Church by Christ himself to be guarded and preserved until the second coming.  To the liturgist and sacramental theologian it would be found in the sacraments and liturgical practice of the Church.  But all these are wrong, and today’s feast day reminds us of where the true treasure of the Church lies.

St. Lawrence was a deacon commanded by the emperor to bring forth the treasures of the Church and give them to the emperor as tribute.  The empire, of course, meant money, gold chalices, and other fineries. St. Lawrence gathered up the poor of Rome, entered the palace, and declared, “Here is the treasure of the Church!”

The diaconate serves as a constant reminder that the Church’s treasure lies in people, most especially the poor.  All the other things mentioned above are all important things, but they are transitory in nature; they are a means to an end; and they all exist to serve the needs of the human person, who alone among all things has an eternal destiny and alone is loved by God unreservedly. 

The mission of the Church is directed to the service of persons as persons – as subjects to be respected and dignified, not as objects to be treated in transactional ways.  Too often the Church sees people as dollar signs and volunteers to be used rather than as persons with dignity.  It is no wonder that attrition is high both in church ministry and in church attendance. 

It is also little wonder that people feel marginalized by the Church when only certain persons are given priority in who we serve and advocate for in public policy to the neglect of others.  Or when one set of ethical standards exists for the ordained and a very different set for laity.  Or when sexual abuse of minors, the abuse of indigenous peoples, and the sexual use of adults by clergy takes place.  When the response to such scandals is denial followed by lawsuits followed by financial settlements the Church is not treating people as persons but as transactional objects of exploitation. 

Even more transactional is when “consultative processes” are undertaken by the Church for long term future planning.  A process is created that gives the appearance of listening, input, and consultation but in reality the decisions had been made long in advance on the future of communities and the process exists only as window dressing to provide the appearance of consultation.  People have seen this show before. They can see lay people used as props for video presentations by clergy on the end result of the “process”.  They know the layfolk are not allowed to speak.  Such processes are almost more insulting to people’s dignity.

Today’s feast is a call to diaconal service and a return to discover where the true treasure of the Church exists – in people, created in God’s image, redeemed in Christ, temples of the Holy Spirit.  It is a call once again to commit ourselves to one another in loving service and ordering all other things to the service of the human person.

Our Lady of Perpetual Crisis

The newspaper that morning had been filled with the usual headlines, several of them devoted to what was commonly called The Emergency.  Things had got desperately out of control, the headlines reported: the school systems, the budget, the pollution, the crime, the weather...why, everything, in fact, was a complete mess, and citizens everywhere were clamoring for a major - no, a dramatic - improvement in government.  'Things must change NOW! was the slogan plastered on billboards all over the city (it was a very old slogan), and although Reynie rarely watched television, he knew the Emergency was the main subject of the news programmes every day, as it had been for years.

(The Mysterious Benedict Society, p. 2-3)

Sound familiar? It does indeed reflect the general news media, regardless of which trough one takes in the daily news.  

Much, worse, however, are entire religions devoted to the culture of perpetual crisis.  Christian media outlets reflect this popular devotion in spades, as do a host of organizations dedicated to making money off the crisis du jour.  And to be clear, this devotion transcends denominational, sectarian, and spectrum differences.  Consider:

* Traditonalists in the Roman Catholic Church have as their crises this year the actions of the Vatican that first outlawed private Masses in St. Peter's Basilica, followed by more general restrictions on the celebration of the Missal of St. Pius V.  That they care more for their private Masses than actually providing Mass regularly to people in the Amazon and other regions of the world is indicative of the self-absorption that dominates the group.  And the fact that they refer to the Missal of St. Pius V as the "true" Mass is indicative of the heresy rampant in the movement, the phrase indicating a denial of the fact that the Church by definition must provide valid and efficacious sacraments to the faithful.  

* More progressive brands of Christianity have their own crises of the day related to women's ordination and sexuality issues.  The Church's stance and practice on these issues has been remarkably consistent since its inception such that any appeal to the Tradition would yield precious little in terms of a theological foundation for any change on these issues.  

Both groups have been engaged in crisis theology since the early 1960s, each raising vast amounts of money to support organizations and various vagandi clergy in their unauthorized ministries of ego massage parlor franchises.  

Crisis theology is a cult of atheism.  At its root such thinking does not at all believe in God nor in the Church, but rather it centers all of our attention on ourselves and one's power status in the Church and society.  

Before Jesus began his public ministry he underwent a series of temptations in the desert.  Each temptation represents something different that serve to detract us from God.  The temptation to turn stones to bread appeals to our desire for comfort for our bodies.  The temptation to throw oneself from the Temple seeking angelic help is an appeal to our vanity in performing parlor tricks instead of really trusting in God.  And the temptation to all the kingdoms of the world is our desire for power and vanity that is in reality the worship of evil.  Jesus succeeded in rejecting all these allures not only in this moment in the desert, but throughout his ministry in rejecting the crowds and the appeals of the political groups of his day.  

In the life of Jesus there is no appeal whatever to crisis theology, for crisis theology is a surrender to all the temptations of the evil one.  There is no trust at all in God, nor any recognition of the transitory nature of this life and world in crisis theology.  As in The Mysterious Benedict Society, the crisis is created by humans in an effort to seek control over others.  While we yell and scream in the midst of the storm, Jesus sleeps in the boat, and when he is awakened by us - not the storm - Jesus rebukes us first for our lack of faith and only quells the storm afterward.  Even a real storm isn't a crisis, for God is present and the storm will pass.  So rest in the boat with Jesus and ignore the crisis provocateurs.