Kristof Attacked

Yesterday I posted about Nicholas Kristof’s column on the two Catholic Churches. Later the same day at Mirror of Justice, Rick Garnett responded to the same column. He began by quoting from Kenneth Woodward’s fascinating column in Commonweal, containing the metaphor that the New York Times is a rival magisterium. Although the Times is influential and has its own institutional culture, many important aspects of this “Magisterium” are important: it is secular and secularizing; it promotes dialogue within the liberal framework –even allowing the token conservatives a voice on the op-ed pages, without suppressing opposing voices outside its pages; its liberal voice makes it the paper conservatives seek to mock; from the perspective of those on the left, it is timid and too cozy with those in power; among its readers, I would bet that its editorials are largely unread – certainly in comparison with the opinion columns.

After citing Woodward, Rick says that almost “on cue” (not sure why it was on cue), Kristof, according to Rick, offers the "yes, the institutional Church and its old, out-of-touch, male leaders are no good, but the real Church is out there, in the trenches, doing things I like" story that one often hears.  Actually, Kristof’s claim is not that the people in the trenches are doing the “things he likes,” but the works of Jesus and, he maintains, that the leaders of the Church have drifted from the message of Jesus.

Rick admits that the people Kristof describes in the Sudan are doing “good work,” and they are. For example: “But what about Father Michael Barton, a Catholic priest from Indianapolis? I met Father Michael in the remote village of Nyamlell, 150 miles from any paved road here in southern Sudan. He runs four schools for children who would otherwise go without an education, and his graduates score at the top of statewide examinations.

“Father Michael came to southern Sudan in 1978 and chatters fluently in Dinka and other local languages. To keep his schools alive, he persevered through civil war, imprisonment and beatings, and a smorgasbord of disease. “It’s very normal to have malaria,” he said. “Intestinal parasites — that’s just normal.”

“Father Michael may be the worst-dressed priest I’ve ever seen — and the noblest.

“Anybody scorn him? Anybody think he’s a self-righteous hypocrite?

“On the contrary, he would make a great pope.”

In response, Rick says, “To be clear, the people in Sudan whom Kristof describes, and admires -- but does not, I think, I understand -- are doing good work.  But, when Kristof imagines himself competent (or inspired?) to declare that so-and-so would be "a good pope" (how does Kristof know this?), I cannot help thinking of Woodward's "rival magisterium" observation.”

I wonder what Rick supposedly gets about the Sudan that Kristof doesn’t (Kristof does mention the birth control position of the Church regarding Africa – is that what Kristof does not understand about the Sudan?). I think that the suggestion that a servant of Christ in the trenches has qualities that are relevant to Papal greatness is a good one. And with respect to the magisterium claim, it is worth noting that Kristof is arguing outside the Times secular perspective.

Rick then presses onward: “For Kristof, there are good guys (and women) helping the poor in Africa, and bad guys, in Rome, issuing ‘paleolithic edicts on social issues.’  What he doesn't get, in my view, is the Catholic claim that the Church's ‘paleolithic’ opposition to abortion comes from the same place as its commitment to the dignity of the poor, that its ‘paleolithic’ proposals regarding sexual morality come from the same place as its call to generosity, and self-gift.  In a similar way, Pope Benedict's recent encyclical, I thought, was misunderstood by people who, like Kristof, think that the Church's social teachings are a disconnected jumble, rather than the implications of a unified and animating moral anthropology.”

Actually Kristol does not mention abortion in his column. He does mention homophobia, the failure to protect children, and birth control in connection with aids. In addition, he understands “why many Americans disdain a church whose leaders are linked to cover-ups and antediluvian stances on women (perhaps Rick thinks that the reference to women is code for abortion), gays and condoms — but the Catholic Church is far larger than the Vatican.” I am quite sure Kristof thinks that the Church’s positions on gays, birth control in connection with aids, and the failure to protect children are inconsistent with Christianity. If they all can be squeezed into a unifying moral anthropology, so much the worse for the anthropology. Finally, if Kristof meant to refer to abortion, I think it utterly improbable that Kristof is unaware of the way abortion fits into Church teachings. He may disagree with those teachings, but I doubt he is confused.

Finally, Rick turns to David Bonagura at the Catholic Thing. Rick says that Bonagura also responds to Kristof. In fact, Bonagura responds to a different, but similar column by Kristof. Rick cites a paragraph from Bonagura that is about the role of Christian love in promoting social justice. The New York Times might or might not disagree with the paragraph, but surely Kristof would agree. Finally, Bonagura reacts to this line from Kristof (in the column Rick was not responding to): “Jesus himself focused on the needy rather than dogma, and went out of his way to engage women and treat them with respect.” Bonagura says “Dogma and rules do not distract the Church from social justice; they allow social justice to flourish by pointing it towards its proper and ultimate end.” In context, however, I think it clear that Kristof is focused on what he believes to be inhumane (e.g., when one spouse has HIV aids, the couple may not use birth control) unchristian dogma and rules.

Leaving, but taking off from Rick’s post, I have heard it said that the current crisis in the Church is the greatest since the Reformation. I do not know if this is true, but it is surely in the midst of a serious crisis. I do not think it has been helpful that (as I said in an earlier post) Spiro Agnew apparently returned from the dead to be the chief advisor to the Vatican: “Circle the wagons and attack the media.” Any public relations persons would have told the Vatican to apologize, apologize, apologize, and focus on what is now being done to address the issue. It is certainly arguable that Pope Benedict has enormously matured on this issue and that, if he were replaced, the new Pope would not be as good on this issue – sad as that speculation might be. And the Church leaders are stuck with (and proud of) their conservative teachings.

At this time, many Catholic are contemplating leaving the Church (in the U.S., a greater percentage leave the Church than any other denomination). Nicholas Kristof gives a message to those who will never be persuaded to admire the leaders of the Church: “So when you read about the scandals, remember that the Vatican is not the same as the Catholic Church. Ordinary lepers, prostitutes and slum-dwellers may never see a cardinal, but they daily encounter a truly noble Catholic Church in the form of priests, nuns and lay workers toiling to make a difference.”

 

 

Comments

[Greg Louis]

I agree with Prof Perry that it has been a most wonderful exchange; I thank you all for your courteous engagement with my questions.

In response, I should simply like to reiterate two points that I think got lost in all my verbiage:

a. But isn't it possible to help the Vatican evolve from the standpoint of a Protestant or non-Roman community? (Isn't this how Luther conceived of his defection? I mean, we all share the same fundamentals and are all housemates in the one holy Catholic and Apostolic Church. We simply are in different houses because some recite the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed with a Roman accent, some with a modern cadence, etc.)

b. Related to point a, don't many Protestant communities conceive of themselves as 'evolved Roman Catholicism?' I mean, isn't the perennial endeavour of 'progressive Catholics' essentially to render the RCC, say, the Episcopal Church? If so, seeing that the Episcopal Church already exists, shouldn't the work then be to enrich the Episcopal Church, to bring to her whatever she may be missing that is customarily more prominent in Roman Catholicism? (E.g., a more fully developed social doctrine; or, for another example, a universal recognition of the sacraments. For, some Episcopalians recognize seven sacraments: simply, however, the seven are not a defining article of Episcopalian Christianity binding on all communicants as they are on Roman Catholics.)

And lastly, Prof Shiffrin, I can wholly understand loving one's parish. However, I don't see why one has to remain affiliated with an entire church for a parish. (To modify Goethe's remark, I should not say that the whole Roman Church is worth the parish if one only likes the parish; one could always remain in the parish as a [fill in alternative denomination].)

[Michael Perry]

A wonderful exchange.

Thanks to all of you.

[Steve Shiffrin]

Thanks to Greg Louis and Bob. Greg's reply is very well articulated and thoughtful as is Bob's. I think liberal Catholics stay in for many reasons. Some feel they are part of the People of God more than tied to those wearing fancy robes. Some, as Hans Kung has argued, feel tied to their local Catholic Church, not to the larger whole. Some are ornery: "I know they want me to leave, but they'll have to throw me out." Some are tribal, born into the Church which is their home. Some feel a part of the liberal Catholic community of discourse - from Commonweal, to National Catholic Reporter, to the liberal Catholic theologians. I, for one, look to Kung, Curran, Tracy, O'Brien and others for guidance before, long before the Bishops. Some are attracted to the ritual and the seven sacraments.
If I were to differ with Greg's comments, it would be with
the unstated assumption that there must be a uniquely Catholicnon-hierarchical distinction from all other churches that justifies staying within the Church. Bob's sense of disloyalty, I think, in part arises in part from the presence of  a large Protestant community within the midst of the Catholic Church. If I did not have commitments
to my local church, I must say that being in an Episcopal church that honored women, respected gays, and was more democratic would be awfully inviting despite the pull of the considerations I have mentioned.

[Robert Hockett]

I'm sure many Catholics have contemplated the course Greg Louis here proposes, and that many have taken it. I've certainly contemplated it. I think what prevents my taking it, and perhaps what prevents many others, is the thought that it would be a form of disloyalty, an abandonment of the field to those we think well intended but wrong. The church has evolved beneficially in large part as a response to those who have declined the 'love it or leave it' invitation as the false dichotomy that it is, and remained here to work toward continued improvement. There's a well known book by an economist out there (Albert Hirschman) whose very title says much: 'Exit, Voice, Loyalty.' The first two of those often are viewed as rough substitutes, with the third element prompting many who choose the second over the first. Many of the loyal, that's to say, remain and speak up - they exercise voice. I've not given up, and I'm glad that so many others as well have declined to give up.

[Greg Louis]

A somewhat hackneyed question that I nonetheless raise again since I have never received a comprehensive answer to it:

If the institutional Roman Church is so terribly anti-Christian, why not disassociate from it? Or, to put it another way, why not have the same relationship to the Roman clerical hierarchy (= the Vatican and the Episcopacy) that Episcopalians, Baptists, Evangelicals, and our other Christian brothers and sisters do? (After all, they do interact with the Vatican and retain what they consider to be authentically Christian from the Roman Magisterial corpus).

I have never been able to understand what is uniquely Roman Catholic in visions of 'the real Roman Catholic Church' such as that of Kristof. Surely it can't be the beneficent religious, laity, and priests - the Episcopalians and Anglicans have selfless people committed to social justice and societal regeneration too (and I mention only those two for reasons of ecclesial compatibility - other Protestants have them too, of course).

It also can't be the 'diversity' of the Roman Church: for example, the Anglican communion evinces the same e pluribus unum principle of the RCC (there are Latin American, Eastern European, African, Southern and Eastern Asian, and North American churches within that communion, not to mention the 'flagship' church which itself is internally diverse).

The 'Sacramental imagination?' Anglicans (e.g., Charles Williams) and Episcopalians (e.g., Madeleine L'Engle), check, check.

Perhaps an altruistic, Christian motivation to 'stay in' to help our neighbours the 'unhealthy' Vatican in spite of themselves (to see to it that the organization is eventually dragged into [fill in desired ordinal number] century 'kicking and screaming', which 'progressives' suspect won't happen if they defect)? But why can't this work be done from the standpoint of a more congenial (to progressives) Protestant or Episcopalian community?
I mean, wasn't the whole point of the early modern European Reformation to help the Roman Church to change its un-Christian ways by breaking off to provide Christendom with a paragon of 'authentic Christianity?' (Luther envisaged his work as a reform of the Roman Church, not as the creation of a new one.)

The basic point that I'm stressing here is aren't the Protestant communities supposed to be the Roman Catholic Church progressively reformed? For, in them, one sees the beneficence that we should expect of genuine Christians complemented with that ecclesiology and doctrine which 'progressive Catholics' maintain are more authentically Christian.

Is there something that I haven't grasped?