Fad Faith

Columnist Bill Uhrich of the Reading Eagle writes about the religious individualism of these <United> States. More people have been identifying themselves as "spiritual but not religious." In support of this claim he cites Sheila Larson, a nurse who in the 1980s, awash in psychotherapy, coined her own religion, "Sheilaism." She is no "religious fanatic," but dutifully follows her "own little voice."

Now we should consider this an extreme example of the "cult of the self," especially if she bought stationery; but we cannot doubt that eponymous religions abound, each having a hand-crafted creed, code, and cult. To their adherents, these religions are refreshingly simplified, malleable, and unquestionable.

Uhrich cites an example from Adventures of Huckleberry Finn to illustrate how the popular understanding regarding slavery has developed, as seen through Huck's decision not to turn in runaway slave Jim. In fine, Huck acted contrary to the mores of his day, but laudably in our own.

I cannot gather whether Uhrich is using the development of popular (even Christian) beliefs regarding slavery to justify our contemporary trend toward individualism, as if to say, "Human beings en masse have been wrong about some considerable issues; how, then, can we trust any kind of religion that claims to be unchanging and divinely sanctioned?"

Blessed John Henry Newman has sufficiently treated the "development of doctrine" for reasonable people to accept it without dismissing God's institution and continued guidance of Catholicism (and, by extension, other Christian communions).

I cannot be so certain, however, that God has instituted and continues to guide me.

Uhrich presents the most recent iteration of individualist religion: "Moralistic Therapeutic Deism" (MTD). The name says it all:

• Moralistic: "Being a nice person" is the extent of its code.
• Therapeutic: "Feeling good about myself" summarizes the cult.
• Deism: "God intervening as directed" is the creed.

Sociologist Christian Smith has coined this way of life. It really centers on personal euphoria (the goal of therapy), as the choices that result in good/bad feelings about oneself are morally good/bad, and God's involvement with human beings is minimal, and only as necessary for our perceived well-being.

Some thoughts about MTD:

• It is widespread, and like the Gnosticism of yore, it can infect any faith. Catholicism in particular has its variations.
• No sane person objects to acts of kindness (random or forethought). In the diverse marketplace of faith, one path is as good as another, so the distinctiveness and value of all paths dissolve in favor of reaching out to people--especially in time of national or local appeal, in a "bandwagon" sort of cause.
• Prayer has the single objective of accomplishing my designs and limiting my hardships. I can pray the "Unlimited Novena to St. Jude" or any number of rosaries; I can light candles until the fire department is on standby; I can even "have a Mass said" for me to make God pleased about me (even if / because I am not so pleased about me).
• Any talk of the cross of Christ, much less our share in it, is repudiated. Pain (of whatever sort) is the enemy, which must be eliminated by any means. A close second is the internal conflict that comes with the clash of conscience with objective truth, which ends up swept under the proverbial carpet in the process.
• God handles the big stuff like the movement of the spheres. He can keep out of my plans until I ask for Him; otherwise, please keep Thy distance!

What if we worshipped, obeyed, and believed as the Church teaches simply because we know her to be instituted by Jesus for the salvation of the world? What if we did what our informed conscience knew to be right simply because we knew it to be right, without craving recognition or satisfaction?

That level of faith and internal consistency may not be a realistic expectation from myself, let alone from anyone else; but I pray and work toward it. A living relationship with the Lord in the Church moves us away from deism; it situates good feelings within the context of God's evaluation of us and a healthy appreciation for the concerns of our associates; and it directs us to sacrificial, just actions that tend to promote justifiably good feelings.

It may not resemble the stereotypical faith of the 21st century. but it does sound like a faith that has been around for a long while, and will survive the current tides.

Attention and Acceptance and Where To Find Them

Today’s accounts of the Syrian general Naaman and the Samaritan leper cleverly present the universality of salvation. God has opened the gates of heaven to whoever would enter with faith and gratitude. It is no surprise to God, or to us, that we come to Him most often in moments of need, as a “last resort.” Is that God’s preference? I suspect not, but He remains willing to entertain our concerns and to accept us where we are.

God wants our needs, but His deepest preference is to have our attention. Not that He needs to receive it from us; rather, we need to give it to Him. By our “attention,” I mean our fidelity in thought, word, and action, when times are difficult and when they are smooth, and every time in between. That God should have received such attention from foreigners may have startled the original audience of these readings, but not so much anymore; for we are all “foreigners” of a sort, all unexpected and unworthy invitees to the heavenly banquet.

The Lord eagerly awaits our response. St. Paul, apostle to the foreigners, reaffirms the value of the Gospel by appealing to his suffering and imprisonment for its sake. Paul has responded to the Lord’s invitation through countless sacrifices; in time he would make the supreme sacrifice, because God is worth it, and God’s people are worth it.

But Paul has invoked the totality of his own dedication only to highlight the Lord’s dedication: “If we have died with him we shall live with him; if we persevere we shall also reign with him.” The final lines of that ancient hymn give the flip-side: “If we deny him he shall deny us. If we are unfaithful he remains faithful, for he cannot deny himself.” That may seem strange, but He’s really saying that God is faithful in upholding His own justice. He validates the choice to reject His goodness. The very ability to reject God testifies to the greatness of the freedom that God has entrusted to us—a freedom to be used wisely.

         

By the way, if you are attending Mass today, it very strongly suggests that you do not want to reject God. That is good! You have taken to heart St. Paul’s declaration: “The word of God is not chained.” He desires freedom for His children. In so many ways we flounder about in this world just wanting to be accepted and loved. Please God, our parishes ought to be a place where God can communicate that sense of acceptance—if not here, then where? Through the Eucharist, and through many daily acts of thanksgiving and praise, may the Lord lead you and me more deeply into His wise and loving plan each day. By bearing our hardships, celebrating each other’s progress, and sharing our grief and joy with others, we might be ever more receptive to the Lord’s gift of salvation.

"21st Century Saints," First Draft

I will be speaking to young adults in our diocese later this month as part of a "Theology on Tap: Octoberfest" series. This is a new venture for me. For two years I was a high school chaplain and teacher. Perhaps the students, staff, fellow teachers, and administrators would have a better estimation of my efforts, but I considered the assignment successful insofar as I completed it without committing any crimes.

There are differences between high school students and "young adults" in their early 20s to mid-30s. While many high school students are forced to attend religious programs, young adults get to choose to do so. Young adults have had more time to define their personal talents and areas of interest, so they will tend to invest themselves more deeply in their chosen activities. When religious formation is worthy of a young person's time--now this is something special!

I say this in light of a recent Facebook status of a young woman who was a senior when I was the chaplain. She was feeling the dread deficit of activities in Berks County for a professional her age. As far as I know she still adheres to her Catholic faith, but finds nothing in common with her parish. There is a huge gap between high schoolers and parents of young children, and she is in it for a few more years! She didn't want married people or older people to post any comments, because we "don't get it." I didn't read that caveat before making a pitch for the Theology on Tap series; but I figured that she was looking for answers, so there was one that she could take or leave.

Because of the paucity of worthy faith-based gatherings, and out of respect for the relative few young adults who profess to be Catholic in this atmosphere, I accepted the kind invitation of the Diocese to speak at this event. If there's any way to support those twenty and thirty-somethings who make no secret of appreciating their faith, I'm game!

The assigned topic is, "Becoming a Saint in the 21st Century." I was not strong-armed into the topic, you must know. For all I remember, I may have told the regional youth ministry coordinator to "surprise me." Today I ran into the diocesan coordinator at a meeting, where I asked her, "Are you sure you want me to do this one?"

An inveterate over-thinker, I have concluded that I am neither a saint nor a resident of the 21st century. Well, as for the latter, I am typing on a laptop computer while this is playing in the background:

so perhaps I do qualify as a 21st century resident. But I also read the print version of the daily newspaper, read books, and I have watched most of the Monty Python corpus and both Fletch movies.

But "saint" is, for me, a dubious distinction, so far.

Perhaps that is part of the point: what is to say that people who want to know, love, and serve God can't maintain some familiarity with certain things of this world? Who says they can't address current topics with fresh, even "irreverent" language?

I'm not incredibly much older than my target audience, but I this is how (I fear) my approach will seem to them:

Who will free me from this blasted self-consciousness? Only God, and not without my cooperation. This concern, I grant, is a real waste of time and energy. I will be the best representative of Christ I can be to these people, yet thoroughly in my own skin.

Some ideas are percolating. Heavy on the Hopkins...heavy on the humor...

Beloved readership: Do you have any suggestions for this topic of "Becoming a Saint in the 21st Century"? Feel free to leave them below.

Of Symmetry and Sanctity

Today the Church celebrates the Memorial of Saint Thérèse of Lisieux. She died at the age of 24 from tuberculosis, as a cloistered Carmelite nun who scarcely knew the outside world after entering the order; but her desires to proclaim the Gospel and connect people with Christ's Mystical Body have merited her not only a place in heaven, but the patronage of the Church's missionary activity.

To proclaim the Gospel and to connect people with Christ's Mystical Body: that is the goal of every baptized Christian, and a fortiori of every priest. I recall hearing of St. Thérèse's love for priests, indeed of a kind of holy envy for them--certainly a profound reverence for their proximity to things divine. She offered her life for priests, for which I am most grateful.

Twenty years ago today I signed and mailed my application for seminary studies to the Diocese of Allentown. Today, a priest for ten years and almost four months, I participate in the solemn closing of my parish's Forty Hours Devotion. Much has transpired between then and now: all, I trust, to God's glory and the sanctification of His people.

The sacraments of Marriage and Holy Orders are "Sacraments of Communion and Mission" because they orient their participants toward the eternal (and temporal) fulfillment--salvation--of others. I would say, "unlike the other sacraments," but that wouldn't be true. Every sacrament orients its participants toward the salvation of others, and thus to their own salvation.

Now, vowed religious life is not a sacrament, but there are real parallels between the purified and elevated commitment ("consecration") of the priest and the spouse, and of vowed religious. Perhaps the details of comparison are best left to the theologians and canonists.

I preached on the readings of the day as they relate to the life of the Little Flower. Zechariah foretold an eager response to the message of salvation among the Gentiles, who until his time were not roundly expected to repent and convert. Notice the palpable excitement ascribed to the nations: "...men of every nationality...shall take hold, yes, take hold of every Jew by the edge of his garment and say, 'Let us go with you, for we have heard that God is with you.'"

Perhaps in this light we can salvage some worth from the enthusiasm of James and John, who express their disfavor of hostile Samaritans who would not welcome Jesus and company along their Holy Land Tour. Apparently the journey to His passion and death should encounter a sort of sneak preview along the way.

"Lord, do you want us to call down fire from heaven and consume them?" As if Jesus couldn't do that Himself if He wished! But He wanted to move on, though not without offering a rebuke. Now we are not privy to the precise words of that rebuke, but here is my script:

"Don't presume to know My mind concerning this situation. Don't you remember the account of Shimei, who cursed David and his officials on their way to Bahurim? How David made excuses for the man, even suggesting that the Lord Himself told him to curse the king? Let him go--mentally as well as physically. There are places to go, people to see," etc.

Jesus Himself spoke of a desire to "set the earth on fire" (Lk 12:49). One religious brother suggests that we not impede the Holy Spirit who wants to inflame our hearts with holiness and mission. This inflammation precedes and accompanies the Church's missionary activity.

Once again today we hear that Pope Francis has conducted an interview, this time with an atheist Italian journalist. Questions abound as to the accuracy of the translation (Traddutore, traditore--"The translator is a traitor--the Italians say), and a number of bloggers fear the implications of this interview. ("This isn't magisterial-level teaching!" "Too many people will misunderstand the Pope's words!" "He is watering down the uniqueness of Christ's Person and Sacrifice!") Others are encouraging people to relax and realize that the Holy Father (in imitation of Jesus) is an equal opportunity disturber.

St. Thérèse used to disturb me, too. (She still does, but she used to, too.) Too photogenic and photographed for being a cloistered Carmelite. Too pious, too impetuous--too bad! She's a saint, Chris, and you're not. Maybe you can learn something from her!

After I celebrated the 12:10pm Mass, I exposed the Blessed Sacrament to continue Adoration until the close of 40 Hours tonight at 7pm. After the usual incensation and genuflection, I noticed that the monstrance and tabor (the stand that elevates the monstrance) were not lined up just so with the Crucifix. I prepared my chalice for the next Mass and returned to the sanctuary to retrieve the Lectionary and other items, though not without stopping to reposition the tabor just so.

Then a voice came to me: "Are you more interested in symmetry than in sanctity?"

The voice of God? The late Mel Allen of "This Week in Baseball" used to say, "You make the call."

I think God was saying something to me. Upon sending out this post I shall obey His voice by donning my cassock and going down to the Church--not only to get a few more things ready for tonight's solemn closing, but also to make a visit and pray for the conversion of everyone on every side of these interviews, myself included.