Friday, September 30, 2016

The Worldliness of our Holy Father

Our Holy Father's homily on Sunday's gospel about Lazarus was classic Francis: for the most part a gripping, illuminating spiritual reflection on the mysterious, blinding allure of "worldliness" as a kind of false consciousness, largely unrecognized by the victim, worse than sin as act since it is sin as condition. But then he gratuitously insults clergy who indulge the rich and indifferent as "pusillanimous." This word means, of course, "weak-spirited" in the sense of cowardly, unmanly, bereft of courage, backbone and spine. This is the worse insult you can give a man. Call me ugly, stupid, smelly, awkward or whatever you want and I will chuckle to myself; but call me a coward and I MUST fight you. If you are a man, you know what I mean! Why does our Pope express such visceral contempt for (not all of) the clergy? Of course there is truth to his view: we have experienced clergy who are complacent, indifferent, arrogant, detached from and indifferent to the "Lazarus" in our midst. But his tone is not compassionate or mournful; it is contemptuous. It is like the cartoon in which the psychologist responds to his patients confidence with: "You did what? That is disgusting!!!!" Clericalism, in the worst sense, is virtually constitutive of Catholicism because our sacramental economy requires a caste of priests, some of whom unfortunately configure the reverence they receive into arrogance, privilege and complacency. And so, its companion, anti-clericalism, is equally inevitable. But for our number one cleric to be so anti-clerical is unprecedented. A key to understanding may be our Pontiff's understanding of "worldliness" as false consciousness, often unrecognized. Perhaps we can see that Pope Francis himself is unaware of a "worldliness" that has infiltrated his own thinking. He seems to have interiorized an intense resentment of the privilege, arrogance, and complacency he sees among the clergy. This is striking in that he exaggerates mercy, in other areas, even at the risk of truth and justice. It is an attitude I have observed elsewhere: for example, a pastor who is kind and gentle with his flock but brutal with his curates.  This spirit of resentment seems to influence our Pope in other areas as well. It seems that he deeply identifies with the "Lazaruses" in our midst, but unlike the biblical figure who is silent and apparently serene, he is angry at the indulgent Dives. In regard to capitalism, he again despises those who are privileged, powerful and distanced from the poor. Again, his tone is not that of a pastor inviting repentance in the manner of the great saints; rather he seems distant, judgmental and disdainful. A third area, the most important in my view, of a subtle but unrecognized worldliness regards the rigorous, ennobling sexual Catholic ethos of the Church. This was given a new, fresh and inspiring in the teaching of St. John Paul II. Rather than continuing this legacy, Francis sympathizes with the view that the Church is oppressive, judgmental, and exclusive with its teaching and practice. He seems to have interiorized the contempt of the world towards the Church and is embarassed about the demanding, sanctifying ethos it offers. On the positive side, however, Pope Francis has a basic humility about himself as a sinner in need of God's mercy; he is genuinely a man of the poor; he is strikingly authentic and free; and basically a man of the Church committed to the Deposit of Faith (despite his irrepressible urge to admit those in non-sacramental unions to the Eucharist.) He is the weakest teaching Pope in my lifetime of seven pontiffs, but by historical standards he is not that bad. In this Year of Mercy we can only pray for mercy upon our fallible Pope, and the Lazaruses who suffer among us, and all us complacent Diveses.