A Continuing Survey of Religion and Public Life
Richard John Neuhaus
(c) 1995 First Things 57 (November 1995): 71-87.
A truly odd thing has happened this past year. Well, of course many
odd things have happened, but nothing else quite like this readily comes
to mind. We are witnessing a very major policy shift, with partisans on
all sides making high-octane moral noises, and yet with few people fessing
up to what is really happening. A couple of years ago, National Review
embarked on a campaign to persuade Americans that the current level of
immigration to this country, legal and illegal, is dangerously out of control.
Almost everybody who has commented on this debate has noted the oddity
that the campaign was led by two Brits, Peter Brimelow of Forbes,
who is now a U.S. citizen, and John O'Sullivan, editor of National Review,
who is not. Most commentators have complained that this is clearly an instance
of people who, having been allowed on board, now want to pull up the ladder
and deny others the same opportunity.
Conservatives are by no means united on the immigration question, and
for a while it was thought that this could occasion a split that would
jeopardize what appears to be the conservative political ascendancy. The
Wall Street Journal, for example, could not be more bullish on immigration,
making the argument that massive immigration is an almost unqualified blessing
for the economy. The Journal has editorially proposed (it is not
clear that the proposal is meant to be taken at face value) a constitutional
amendment declaring that the U.S. has open borders. The more immigrants
the better. It seems now that the Journal is losing, if it has not
already definitively lost, this debate. Of course, in politics nothing
is definitive as in forever.
The Brimelow-O'Sullivan case is that America is a nation much as other
nations are nations. This is posited against the idea of American exceptionalism
which proposes that America is, in the phrase of Ben Wattenberg, "the
first universal nation." Writers such as Wattenberg contend that America
is basically constituted by a set of ideas of universal validity, and whoever
subscribes to these ideas is, in effect, an American, whether or not they
actually live here. So they might as well live here, if they want to. National
Review counters that a universal nation is a contradiction in terms.
Any nation is a nation among nations, each being defined by not being the
other, and by the culture and experience of a particular people. I have
engaged in an extensive exchange with O'Sullivan on these questions in
the pages of National Review (February 6, 1995) and will not repeat
what I wrote there.
Suffice it that, as the debate has been structured, I come down on the
pro-immigration side, with qualifications. Yes, immigration policy is out
of control; illegal immigration needs to be sharply stemmed, even if it
cannot be entirely stopped; and the effective assimilation of immigrants
requires major changes in welfare and education policies in order to avoid
the welfare dependency syndrome and the cultural balkanization of "multiculturalism."
In addition, affirmative action programs should not apply to immigrants;
indeed they should be junked for everybody. At the same time, I have contended,
the idea that America is an "immigrant nation" is a critically
important part of our national story; there would be a steep cultural and
moral price to be paid for denying others the opportunity of immigration;
and, contra Brimelow- O'Sullivan, it is neither plausible nor desirable
to reconceptualize America as the continuation of the British cultural
imperium. In these pages I argued that the real problem of "aliens"
among us is represented not by immigrants but by the urban underclass and
the intellectual overclass, both of whom are profoundly alienated from
the rights and responsibilities of the American experience (see "The
Aliens Among Us," The Public Square, August/September 1993).
Race and Culture
The centerpiece in this debate is Peter Brimelow's Alien Nation:
Common Sense About America's Immigration Disaster (Random House). Brimelow
has an impressive command of the relevant facts, and writes in the accessible
and aggressive manner of a debater out to score points. And score he does.
This is a very important book; anybody who wants to get in on the immigration
debate has to read it. It has been widely reviewed, more negatively than
positively, but the curious thing is that even the hostile reviews generally
end up conceding much of Brimelow's argument. For instance, Michael Lind
reviewed it in the New Yorker of April 24, 1995, and, after making
all the appropriate liberal sounds, concludes (as though he were disagreeing
with Brimelow) that we should institute an extended moratorium on immigration
in order to give the country a chance to assimilate the many millions who
have arrived here in the last two decades. (Immigration, legal and illegal,
is now at the level of almost two million persons per year, nearly twice
as many as the last high point in 1907.) In his New Yorker review,
Lind also attacks my comments in these pages, underscoring, as is his wont,
that his own unique thought patterns cannot be accommodated by existing
views on this or any other matter.
The most frequent criticism of Alien Nation is that Brimelow
includes also a racialist (many say racist) argument that, without major
changes in immigration policy, whites will in the not-so-distant future
be a minority in America. In response to the passionate objections to such
painfully incorrect considerations, Brimelow persistently asks the question,
"Shouldn't the American people be consulted about what kind of nation
they want?" It is an eminently fair question. Do Americans think it
would be a good idea if, in say the year 2050, the country's population
is 350 million, with whites in the minority and the great bulk of the increase
being non-European in origin? Some critics of Brimelow clearly think such
questions should not be asked, apparently because they assume that Americans
are racists who will come up with the wrong answer. The picture is complicated
by the fact that native-born black Americans feel more strongly than whites
that there are too many immigrants.
The Bearers of the Cultural Plague
It was, I believe, wrongheaded for Brimelow to feature the race factor
as he does. The American inhibition about addressing the race factor is
not, as Brimelow seems to think, simply a matter of self-delusion or hypocrisy.
Policies based on race-consciousness have bedeviled the American story,
whether in their malign (slavery and segregation) or benign (quotas and
affirmative action) forms. One need not deny the importance of race in
everyday life in order to insist that public policy decisions should, as
much as possible, be color blind. In fact, the reason for so insisting
is precisely that race is so important. Brimelow's raising of the race
question, however, may be one reason that the book has received so much
attention. It may also be the reason why, if Brimelow's argument wins in
the political arena (which seems more than possible), few people will give
him or his book much credit in helping to transform U.S. immigration policy.
Of course Brimelow is right in claiming that there is a great deal of
conscious and unconscious dishonesty in American discussions about race.
(Yes, dishonesty can be so thoroughly internalized as to be unconscious.)
Although the question regularly gets reconfigured, race is still the "American
dilemma" that Gunnar Myrdal wrote about in 1944. Brimelow is simply
tone-deaf to the American ways of calculated and constructive circumlocution
on matters racial, dismissing such practice as nothing more than hypocrisy.
Which is a shame, since his argument does not require the appeal to race.
Many have become persuaded of the argument despite its appeal to race.
Of course, Brimelow can respond that they are persuaded, at least in part,
because of the racial factor but are not honest enough to admit it. Obviously,
there is no way of proving the point one way or another.
Brimelow makes the telling point that, whatever may be the protocols
for discussing race in America, there are a good many Americans on the
pro- immigration side who violate them with apparent impunity. The proponents
of sundry versions of multiculturalism do not hesitate to be very explicit
about race, and to be stridently polemical against one racial group, namely,
whites. Numerous textbooks, television shows, and movies are uninhibited
in celebrating their version of a "pluralistic" America in which
whites are, or will soon be, a minority. In this picture of the future,
the real enemy is, of course, Western culture, with whites portrayed as
the bearers of that plague.
If one side gets a free ride in pushing that racial-cultural line, is
it fair to charge those who disagree with racism? Brimelow's point is that
the multiculturalist proponents of open immigration first raised and continue
to press the question of race, and therefore their claim that he has injected
race into the debate is a case of the pot calling the kettle black, as
we were once allowed to say. Again and again, he returns to his bottom-line
question, Shouldn't the American people- citizens of every race and cultural
background-be asked what kind of America they want for their grandchildren?
It is disturbingly clear that many of Brimelow's critics have made up their
minds that that question should be answered in the negative.
Race aside, Brimelow makes a convincing case that existing immigration
policy is a shambles, if not the "disaster" claimed in his subtitle.
The question of immigration should be submitted to public debate and political
decision. Most Americans likely think it self-evident that a country should
have some standards for deciding who is admitted and who can become a citizen.
Useful skills, law-abidingness, literacy, and a reasonable assurance that
those admitted will not go on the public dole are among obvious criteria.
Those who take seriously the Judeo-Christian character of our cultural
story might want to propose policies that tilt in favor of people who share
that story, although any attempt to do that directly would no doubt run
into a legal buzzsaw. In this discussion, I am not overlooking the fact
that an interesting moral argument can be made that America has an obligation
to let in as many of the world's people as want to come. It is an interesting
argument that does not, I believe, stand up under close examination in
an ethics seminar, and in the political arena it is a nonstarter.
The immigration reform of 1965 has not turned out the way its promoters
promised it would. Nothing new in that. Whatever is done now will also
have unintended consequences that a Peter Brimelow (or maybe Peter Brimelow
himself) will thirty years down the road declare to be a "disaster."
But in a democracy the people are supposed to have a say in the policy
disasters that are visited upon them. That this is currently happening
on immigration is in large part due to the enterprise of Brimelow-O'Sullivan,
although all the people who are now saying that "of course" something
must be done about immigration are not going to give them much thanks.
After all, America is not an extension of the British imperium!
The provisional resolution (and in politics everything is provisional)
may be that immigration is brought under somewhat more rational control
in a manner that sustains the conviction that we are and ought to be a
nation of immigrants. Sustaining the conviction requires sustaining a generous
level of immigration. The meaning of generous-and the difference between
generosity and carelessness-is now being submitted to public debate. The
outcome will almost certainly be fewer immigrants, legal and illegal, and
greater attention to their successful assimilation. This can happen without
rousing the furies of nativism, and without subverting the perception and
reality of America as a bearer of universal aspiration. At least we may
hope that it can happen.
The Church and the Press
Protestants, Catholics, Jews-they all complain about the press. Of course,
everybody complains about the press (including the press), so why should
religion be different? Fr. Avery Dulles has some helpful reflections on
this perennial topic. He is speaking about the Catholic Church and the
press, but what he has to say applies, mutatis mutandis, across the religious
"The secular press, because it belongs to the world and is directed
toward a worldly audience, will never be the ideal organ for transmitting
the Christian message," writes Fr. Dulles, in typically understated
manner, in the Jesuit journal America. But the secular press ought
not therefore to be ignored. "Without prejudice to the religious press,
it must be recognized that many Catholics learn what is happening in their
church primarily, or in great part, from the secular media. It is also
true that the Church has a responsibility to communicate not only with
its own members but with the general public. The popular media of communication
have a legitimate interest in religious news. It would be neither desirable
nor possible to keep the Catholic Church out of the secular press."
The Church, however, has not been "conspicuously succesful in its
relations with the press"-the blame for which is commonly placed either
(by Catholics) on the anti-Catholic bias of journalists or (by journalists)
on Church leaders incapable of presenting the Church's story in a proper
light. "Neither of these contributing factors can be denied,"
Fr. Dulles observes, "but the real sources of the difficulty lie deeper."
The nature of the Church's message and the power of the media to communicate
are necessarily in tension, for at least seven reasons, which are worth
(1) The mystery of faith calls for an approach by reverence, by worship,
while the investigative mode of the press makes for irreverence. (2) The
Church, convinced of the permanent validity of revelation, seeks continuity
with the past, while the press thrives on novelty-and consequently presents
a picture of the Church in constant turmoil. (3) The Church seeks to promote
unity, while the press specializes in disagreement-and gives the impression
that every point of dogma is hotly disputed. (4) The Church is interested
in spiritual realities, while the press seeks more tangible material-and
thus tends to report Church events mainly when they have to do with sex,
politics, or power. (5) The Church is hierarchical, while the press is
ideologically egalitarian, and thus lionizes even marginal dissidents.
(6) The teachings of the Church are usually complex and phrased in subtle
theological vocabularies hundreds of years in developing, while the press
wants brevity and simplicity-a.k.a. soundbites. (7) The Church seeks to
persuade its hearers of the truth of revelation, while the press addresses
a general and skeptical audience-and is typically hostile to claims of
truth in matters spiritual and moral.
All the above does not mean that there are not anti-Catholic, and anti-
Christian, journalists out there. There are, lots of them. And it does
not mean that Church officials are not dumb in dealing with the press.
They are, often. But Fr. Dulles' point is that there are built-in tensions
between the Church and the press, and, while we should work at better understanding
all around, the tensions will not, and should not, go away.
Bach, Brahms, Beethoven, Mozart-with those names one has named most
of the great classical music in existence, and for our money the same is
true if you name only Bach and Mozart. Why should this be? It has been
a puzzlement to me ever since I was a teenager. Whatever else might be
said about the failures and barbarities of this century, surely one of
the most telling judgments is that, with slight exceptions here or there,
it has produced no great classical music. On any given day there are dozens
of concerts in New York, and directors are always trying to slip in something
"contemporary." One suspects that for them, as for the audience,
it is a matter of duty, of insisting that it simply can't be true that
mankind has lost its capacity to produce music of consequence. So people
patiently put up with the boredom of the contemporary until, having done
our duty, the concert gets back to the good stuff-meaning Bach, Brahms,
It seems just possible that this doleful circumstance may be changing.
Writing in Commentary, critic Terry Teachout sees something like
a revival of the musical wisdom that several generations of the avant garde
tried so hard to stifle. "Musical styles do not die out of their own
accord: they must be replaced. The decline of interest in American-style
minimalism is due in part to the emergence of a new style of classical
composition that has found a comparably large popular audience. There is
no commonly accepted term for this style, though it is sometimes referred
to as 'European mysticism' or 'holy minimalism.' Its chief proponents are
Henryk G"recki (b. 1933), the Estonian Arvo Part (b. 1935), and the
British John Tavener (b. 1944). All three men are intensely religious,
are associated with orthodox faiths, and write both secular scores and
music intended for liturgical usage; all three use repetition in a manner
broadly reminiscent of the American minimalists."
It is not without significance that these three have sensibilities refined
by the experience with the totalitarianism of our time. Part is Estonian,
G"recki is Polish (and a friend of John Paul II), and Tavener, while
British, is a convert to Eastern Orthodoxy. The superficiality of Western
musical sophistication-or what has for several decades been taken for sophistication-holds
little appeal for them. Not, of course, that all composers of this century
have been caught up in the swirling superficiality. As Teachout notes,
composers such as Stravinsky, Bart"k, Hindemith, and Shostakovich
embraced their places in the great tradition of Western art "and sought
to expand the frontiers of tonality, rather than arrogantly seeking to
create 'new' musical languages out of whole cloth."
Yet it is possible that with the "holy minimalists" something
really progressive is happening, a rediscovery of what was so long forgotten
or denied. Teachout writes: "It is also of no small interest that
the composers who have done the most in recent years to revive the language
of tonality should all be religious (not excluding Glass, a convert to
Tibetan Buddhism). Regardless of one's own beliefs, there is something
undeniably satisfying about the fact that the world of classical music
at the end of the twentieth century is dominated by three men who can say
of tonality what G. K. Chesterton said of his rediscovery of religious
faith: 'I freely confess all the idiotic ambitions of the end of the nineteenth
century. I did, like all other solemn little boys, try to be in advance
of the age. Like them, I tried to be some ten minutes in advance of the
truth. And I found that I was eighteen hundred years behind it.
. . . I am the man who with the utmost daring discovered what had been
When Silence Is Criminal
"Why are you so obsessed with these questions? Give it a rest."
A good many of our readers have probably received such counsel-whether
the question be abortion, euthanasia, the genocidal murder of Christians
in the Sudan, human rights violations in China, or some other matter worthy
of obsession. Arthur Koestler was one of the great defenders of public
decency in this century, and in January 1944 he published an article in
the New York Times Magazine that was titled "On Disbelieving
Atrocities." It offers ever-pertinent insight into the experience
of those who are "obsessed" with great horror. A refugee from
Hitler's continental New Order who was then living in England, Koestler
tried to tell the world about the atrocities perpetrated by the Nazi regime.
Koestler described himself as belonging to a group of "escaped victims
or eyewitnesses . . . who, haunted by our memories, go on screaming on
the wireless, yelling at you in newspapers and in public meetings, theaters
and cinemas. Now and then we succeed in reaching your ear for a moment."
Koestler noted: "I know it each time it happens by a certain dumb
wonder on your faces. . . . But it only lasts a minute. You shake yourselves
like puppies who got their fur wet; then the transparent screen descends
again, protected by the dream barrier which stifles all sound."
"Give it a rest. Your relentlessness is disruptive of civil discourse."
Then and now, the "obsessed" cannot accept such counsel. It is
very much worthwhile to quote Koestler at length: "We, the screamers,
have been at it now for about ten years. We started on the night when the
epileptic van der Lubbe set fire to the German Parliament; we said that
if you don't quench those flames at once, they will spread all over the
world; you thought we were maniacs. At present we have the mania of trying
to tell you about the killing-by hot steam, mass-electrocution, and live
burial-of the total Jewish population of Europe. So far three million have
died. It is the greatest mass killing in recorded history; and it goes
on daily, hourly, as regularly as the ticking of your watch. I have photographs
before me on the desk while I am writing this, and that accounts for my
emotion and bitterness. People died to smuggle them out of Poland; they
thought it was worthwhile. The facts have been published in pamphlets,
books, newspapers, magazines, and what not. But the other day I met one
of the best-known American journalists over here. He told me that in the
course of some recent public-opinion survey nine out of ten average American
citizens, when asked whether they believed that the Nazis commit atrocities,
answered that it was all propaganda lies, and that they don't believe a
word of it. As to this country, I have been lecturing now for three years
to the troops, and their attitude is the same. They don't believe in concentration
camps; they don't believe in the starved children of Greece, in the shot
hostages in France, in the mass graves in Poland; they have never heard
of Lidice, Treblinka, or Belzec; you can convince them for an hour, then
they shake themselves, their mental self-defense begins to work, and in
a week the shrug of incredulity has returned like a reflex temporarily
weakened by a shock. Clearly all this is becoming a mania with me and my
like. Clearly we must suffer from some morbid obsession, whereas the others
are healthy and normal. But the characteristic symptom of maniacs is that
they lose contact with reality and live in a fantasy world. So, perhaps,
it is the other way round; perhaps it is we, the screamers, who react in
a sound and healthy way to the reality which surrounds us, whereas you
are the neurotics who totter about in a screened fantasy world because
you lack the faculty to face the facts. Were it not so, this war would
have been avoided, and those murdered within sight of your day-dreaming
eyes would still be alive."
Heroes and Heroines
She is a very good woman, there's no doubt about that. But she is spiritually
straitened by the intensity of her concern. A heroine of the pro-life cause,
she is on the picket lines in front of the abortuaries, running the phone
lines to get out the vote, and doing many other good things. Yet there
is this drivenness. "How can we just go on," she asks, "as
if we did not know that four thousand innocent children are being killed
every day in this country alone?" It is a question more often asked
than many might think. It is all too much.
For more than twenty-five years now, I've been speaking to pro-life
groups all over the place, and I frequently end up with a line from T.
S. Eliot. (I have a higher estimate of Eliot's faith than does my friend
J. Bottum.) The line is from "East Coker": "For us there
is only the trying. The rest is not our business." I've noticed in
audiences that there are often people who, as penance for whatever sins,
have come out to listen to me before, and you can tell that they see the
line coming. It's a fine line, I think, reflecting not resignation but
an acknowledgment that ultimately we cannot set the world right. Only God
can do that, and He will.
Christian devotion should not be driven; discipleship should not desiccate.
The call to follow him is an invitation to splendor, to live in truth,
in veritatis splendor. Chesterton understood that. Even in the face
of the horror of it all, it is a great sin, he said, to call a green leaf
gray. There is no place for whining or self-pity. Precisely in the face
of the encroaching darkness, one defiantly lifts a tankard in tribute to
the Crucified King. Robust is the word that comes to mind at the mention
of Chesterton. Some dismiss his as a "manly" or even "muscular"
Christianity, but that seems not such a bad thing in this wimpish world.
The better term is adventuresome. He knew that there is a wildness to God's
mercy, and a wildness to being Christian in the world. It infected his
view of the Church careening through history, coping with one thing after
another. Recall the fine passage from Orthodoxy:
"She swerved to left and right, so exactly as to avoid enormous
obstacles. She left on one hand the huge bulk of Arianism, buttressed by
all the worldly powers to make Christianity too worldly. The next instant
she was swerving to avoid an orientalism, which would have made it too
unworldly. The orthodox Church never took the tame course or accepted the
conventions; the orthodox Church was never respectable. It would have been
easier to have accepted the earthly power of the Arians. It would have
been easy, in the Calvinistic seventeenth century, to fall into the bottomless
pit of predestination. It is easy to be a madman: it is easy to be a heretic.
. . . To have fallen into any of those open traps of error and exaggeration
which fashion after fashion and sect after sect set along the historic
path of Christendom-that would indeed have been obvious and tame. But to
have avoided them all has been one whirling adventure; and in my vision
the heavenly chariot flies thundering through the ages, the dull heresies
sprawling and prostrate, the wild truth reeling but erect."
Bracing stuff, that. And Chesterton was by no means alone. The other
day I came across this Chestertonian flurry in Charles Peguy, the great
French poet. Peguy (d. 1914) was at times a revolutionary socialist; he
wandered away from Christianity, and was then drawn back to a wild vision
of the Christian as embodied in nature and history, no longer afraid of
the dark because that is where the Incarnate God has hidden himself. Christians
can afford to be heroes and heroines. Of heroism Peguy wrote: "Heroism
is essentially a skill, a condition and an act of sound health, good spirits,
joy, even merriment, almost of frivolous playfulness-in any case, an act
of pleasure, well-being, an act of the unconstrained, relaxed, productive
person, of security, self-mastery, self-possession, almost (so to speak)
of custom and routine, of good manners. It is without any posturing or
ulterior motive, and, above all, without any self-pity; without sighs and
lamentations, without the wish to win a reward. The person who only wants
to win is a bad player. What makes a great player is the will to play.
He would far rather play without winning than win without playing."
But it seems to do no good to tell my friend about Peguy's vision of
life as a noble game played in the presence of God. Or to ask her to join
in lifting a defiant tankard in the face of all that would drain away life's
joy. Her devotion is earnest and driven, as though she carries the weight
of the world's wrong. There is no doubt that she believes and she loves-more
than Chesterton or Peguy perhaps, certainly more than I. Heroism has many
faces. There are many ways to be a saint.
The Work of God
The Ku Klux Klan, the Michigan Militia, and Scientology. To hear some
folk tell it, Opus Dei (The Work of God) belongs to that company, except
it is bigger and more dangerous. Opus Dei is, they say, a secretive, cult-like
organization that is running a vast international conspiracy with unlimited
funding and tentacles reaching into the most unlikely centers of power.
In short, Opus Dei is "controversial."
So how does one go about making up his mind about a movement such as
this? I have no connections with Opus Dei, but over the last ten years
I have developed friendships with a number of people, priests and laity,
who are involved in The Work. For example, Dr. Joaquin Navarro-Valls, the
communications director for the Vatican. He is an extraordinarily personable
gentleman, and we have had long conversations about, inter alia, the importance
of Opus Dei in his life. He does not push the movement, but speaks in a
matter-of-fact and utterly persuasive manner about how Opus Dei has helped
him to understand and sustain his vocation as a Christian layman. And there
are others in Opus Dei who speak in a similar vein. But in making up one's
mind there is no denying that a privileged witness is Pope John Paul II.
He has been publicly and consistently supportive of Opus Dei, granting
it in 1982 the singular status of a "personal prelature," which
means the jurisdiction of its bishop is not limited to a region but includes
everyone in Opus Dei. In 1992 he beatified the founder of Opus Dei, Msgr.
Josemaria Escriva, who died in 1975. The Pope has spoken of Opus Dei as
an instrument of energetic orthodoxy that is a great gift for the renewal
of the Church and its mission in the world. Of course that does not mean
that Catholics must agree. Orthodox Catholics who otherwise have the greatest
respect for the Pope have had bad experiences with Opus Dei and think that
maybe he does not always know what the organization is actually doing.
Be that as it may, in forming one's approach to Opus Dei, the strong and
consistent affirmation of John Paul II cannot help but carry very considerable
Since it was established in Spain in 1928, there have been a slew of
books attacking Opus Dei, and we are told that more are in the works. For
those of a leftist disposition, it is sufficient damnation that Opus Dei
members were prominent in the government of General Franco. It is seldom
mentioned that those same Opus Dei members were key players in Spain's
successful transition to democracy. Today Opus Dei has about seventy-seven
thousand members in eighty-three countries, including fifteen hundred priests
and fifteen bishops.
One cannot emphasize too strongly that Opus Dei understands its mission
to be the revival of the lay apostolate. While priests do the things that
priests do in their capacity as spiritual directors, Opus Dei members frequently
describe themselves as anticlerical. Not in the sense that they are opposed
to clergy, but in that they oppose the old clericalist notion that lay
people are second-class (at best) members of the Church. Opus Dei members
sometimes suggest that the movement is responsible for Vatican II's lifting
up of the dignity of the lay vocation, which is undoubtedly going one claim
too far. But it is ironic that some of the harshest critics, who think
of themselves as great champions of the laity, have not recognized the
similar inspiration in Opus Dei.
The Work became active in North America about twenty years ago, and
now has approximately three thousand members and runs sixty-four centers
(often residences near major universities), five high schools, and several
retreats. The Opus Dei presence has not always been welcomed by Catholic
ministries on campuses, and this has occasioned some notable controversies.
The cause, it seems, is sometimes personality conflict, sometimes a too
aggressive approach by Opus Dei, and, in a number of cases, resentment
by super-progressive priests of a movement that proposes a different, and
deeply conservative, way of being Catholic. The charge heard again and
again is that Opus Dei is secretive and cult- like in recruiting new members.
These and other charges were again aired in a major article this past
year in America, the Jesuit magazine (February 25, 1995). The issue
had a lurid red cover with nothing but the words "Opus Dei" in
sharp relief, and I approached it with the expectation of reading another
slash-and-burn attack on the movement. It turned out, however, to be a
reasonably temperate and balanced treatment-in comparison, that is, with
the usual stuff on Opus Dei. A great deal of attention was given to the
testimony of people who had had unhappy experiences with Opus Dei, and
to the views of Kenneth Woodward, religion reporter for Newsweek,
often a fair-minded fellow, who has a long-standing hostility to Opus Dei.
Every movement has people who left for one reason or another, and, as
is the case with jilted lovers, it is hard to know how to evaluate their
testimony. They complain that they were recruited under the guise of friendship,
that they were not told at first what they would be getting into, that
women are separated from and subordinate to men, and so forth. What it
apparently amounts to is that some people discovered that Opus Dei was
not for them and were disappointed and embittered about that. Certainly
Opus Dei is demanding. A full-fledged "numerary," for instance,
makes a commitment to celibacy, lives in an Opus Dei center, and follows
a rigorous daily schedule of prayer and spiritual discipline. Clearly,
it is not for everyone. But the critics say it is more than that, that
Opus Dei is a cult. A few parents unhappy with their children's association
with Opus Dei have even formed an Opus Dei Awareness Network, and make
the usual claims about "brainwashing" and the like.
I know some of these parents and cannot help but feel considerable sympathy.
One wonders, however, if in some cases they are not experiencing, in intensified
form, the pain of recognizing that their children are growing up and therefore,
in a certain necessary sense, away from them. The mother of a young man
I will here call Billy relates in tears how he went away to university,
came into contact with Opus Dei in his third year, and now has decided
to commit himself as a numerary. "He's completely alienated from us."
"His father and I had such plans for him." "He's not my
Billy that I knew four years ago." Sympathy yes, but tempered sympathy.
He strikes one as a sensible young man, mature for his years, and enormously
grateful for the life he has found with Opus Dei. He insists he is not
alienated from his parents, but every contact with them, especially with
his mother, is an ongoing and ugly hassle over Opus Dei. "She can't
accept that I must do with my life what I believe God wants me to do."
It is an intergenerational conflict that has been around from the beginning
of time. Innumerable young people, including recognized saints, have caught
a vision of radical discipleship and pursued a course vehemently opposed
by parents and family. This should come as no surprise to people who follow
the One who said, "He who loves father or mother more than me . .
." It is especially odd that this conflict should figure so large
in a Jesuit magazine, for it is within living memory that a more demanding
Society of Jesus was frequently accused of recruiting young men to a pattern
of discipleship that pitted them against parents who had other plans for
their children's lives.
The America article also highlights the fact that the formal
"constitutions" of Opus Dei are available in Latin and Spanish
but not in English. This is taken as evidence that the organization is
concealing something from outsiders, and even from its own members. Opus
Dei responds that the Holy See, for some unknown reason, does not want
the constitutions translated into English, although some members have told
me that they are being translated. They add that the constitutions are
merely legal stipulations, and that they contain nothing that members and
prospective members are not told. In any event, the constitutions are readily
available in Latin, and we know that there are still Jesuits who can read
Latin. If there is anything they find objectionable in the constitutions,
the critics of Opus Dei have ample opportunities to publicize their objections.
So why the intense, sometimes venomous, attacks on Opus Dei? In my experience,
the members of Opus Dei are not secretive, but they are sometimes very
defensive. That is perhaps understandable, given the nature and persistence
of the attacks, but it is still a problem, and Opus Dei members with whom
I have spoken generally recognize it as a problem. Then too, Opus Dei sometimes
presents itself as the saving remnant of orthodoxy in a Church that is
largely apostate. This is unattractive and, if not entirely untrue, greatly
exaggerated. But such exaggeration is not surprising among people who feel
that they are part of a rare, comprehensive, and commanding vision of what
it means to serve Christ and his Church with the entirety of their being.
Of course there is the danger of fanaticism, but it seems to me that Opus
Dei is keenly aware of that, and its program of spiritual direction assiduously
guards against it. People who think that the way to avoid fanaticism is
never to surrender oneself to a commanding truth live desiccated lives
and end up breeding their own, and usually less interesting, fanaticisms.
The opposition to Opus Dei cannot be explained without at least some
reference to jealousy. Competition and jealousy among religious movements
in the Catholic Church is nothing new, and some Opus Dei members are not
hesitant to suggest that theirs is now the role in the Church once played
by the Jesuits. The Jesuits, who were once viewed as the elite corps of
the papacy, have in recent decades had a sharply attenuated relationship
to the hierarchical leadership of the Church. The famous "fourth vow"
of allegiance to the pope is now frequently understood by Jesuits as a
vow to the papacy in general-meaning the papacy as they think it ought
to be. (The articles on Jesuits and Jesuit spirituality in the new Encyclopedia
of Catholicism, edited by Richard McBrien, make no mention of obedience
to the pope.)
It is not surprising that this pontificate has looked with particular
favor on Opus Dei, Focolare, Legionaries of Christ, and similar movements
that have sprung up to champion the magisterium's understanding of the
renewal called for by Vatican II. As for Opus Dei itself, it is, as the
Catholic Church views things, still a very young movement, and in this
country its work has hardly gotten underway. From the general media and
from liberal Catholics, it is not going to get a fair shake for a very
long time, if ever. Opus Dei has, as they say, a big image problem, and
it will have to learn to live with that without being intimidated by it.
Over time, as more people became acquainted with the people who are Opus
Dei, and as Opus Dei members engage in works that are generally respected,
the day may come when Opus Dei will no longer be routinely described as
"controversial." And maybe not. There are some things eminently
worth being controversial for. Meanwhile, one cannot help but be impressed
by the people who believe that they have found in Opus Dei a way to make
an unqualified gift of their lives to Christ and his Church.
While We're At It
- The general secretary of the Presbyterian Church of East Africa, Samuel
Mwaniki, has to recall twenty-four retired male pastors to run parishes
where the people refused to accept women pastors. "Mwaniki lamented
that many African Christians lived in the past, characterized by gender
prejudice," according to Ecumenical News International. "Once
ordained, nothing makes women lesser mortals in the church," said
Mwaniki. Not a happy thought for women who are not ordained.
- It's been a long time since we mentioned it, so once again: Feminists
for Life is a lively and growing organization that is making a big dent
on the stereotype that pro-woman equals pro-choice. They've recently upgraded
their newsletter, The American Feminist, and you might want to take
a look at it. They can be reached at 733 Fifteenth Street NW, Suite 1100,
Washington, D.C. 20005.
- The explosion of Protestantism in Latin America should not be confused
with the Latin American Council of Churches (CLAI), which recently held
its third general assembly in Chile. This is mainly an assembly of what
we here call mainline churches, and there are called "historic churches."
Liberation theologians such as Jose Miguez Bonino and C. Rene Padillo may
have tempered their Marxist enthusiasms, but they addressed the assembly
on the dangers of Roman Catholic "Constantinianism." The more-radical-than-thou
Brazilian Methodist professor, Nancy Cardoso Pereira, played the feminist
and multiculturalist cards, receiving warm ovations for her call to abandon
the premise that "there is only one God, one Lord Jesus Christ, one
Holy Spirit." She urged openness to the many gods and goddesses worshiped
in Latin America (e.g., Pachamama, Tupa, Olorum, and Zambi). All excoriated
capitalism and other evils of Yanqui imperialism. Ecumenical unity of sorts
is achieved, it seems, by opposition to the Catholic and Yanqui threats.
For the first time, CLAI decided not to invite any representatives of the
Catholic Church in any capacity. That was not very nice, but some Catholic
leaders admit to not worrying a great deal about what CLAI does or does
not do. Only 1 percent of the CLAI budget comes from Latin America, with
98 percent coming from European and Yanqui churches. An article in the
Christian Century takes note of that "embarrassing reality"
and concludes, "As the prospects of foreign funding wane, CLAI may
begin to lose its ability to function." The author does not say whether
that should be cause for regret.
- In the New York Review of Books Howard Gardner of Harvard discusses
a number of books related to behaviorism, cognitive science, and the connection
between mind and matter. He notes that, almost beginning with Noam Chomsky's
devastation of B. F. Skinner's 1959 book Verbal Behavior, behaviorism
has had rough sledding. Gardner concludes with this anecdote and reflection:
"In Verbal Behavior Skinner recalls an evening in 1934 when
he found himself sitting next to the great philosopher Alfred North Whitehead
at dinner. Skinner explained his new ideas enthusiastically to Whitehead,
who listened with some sympathy. After a while, Whitehead said, 'Let me
see you account for my behavior as I sit here saying, "No black scorpion
is falling upon this table."' Skinner reports that the next morning
he drew up plans for the study reported in his book a quarter of a century
later. We now know that Skinner's effort was flawed. What remains to be
seen is whether the writers reviewed here or their associates, individually
or collectively, can shed more light on the question Whitehead asked-a
question about the sources of human distinctiveness, imagination, and playfulness.
Perhaps an entirely different perspective will be required."
- In the debates over the National Endowment for the Arts some sharp
words have been exchanged. But perhaps none quite so sharp as the Spectator's
Auberon Waugh on the state of contemporary art tout court. As in
most of his commentaries, the Americans are the prime malefactors. "Thus
the American abstract artist Frank Stella describes his important modern
masterpiece Six Mile Bottom: 'There at least seems to be a bilateral
symmetry in all my work. The parts relate to and they are balanced simply
and conventionally, but without being relational they don't relate to any
other part.' We continue to listen to this twaddle-and a few people even
pretend to find some meaning in it-for a reason which few of us may guess.
The Modern Movement, which effectively ran out of all genuine vitality
about sixty years ago, is kept on the road because the great American foundations
have millions of dollars to spend on it. They continue to spend millions
of dollars every year on this rubbish because if they didn't they would
have to accept that the billions and billions of dollars already spent
on it had been poured down the drain, money wasted. The whole modern art
scene is a gigantic anti-American joke, a worldwide conspiracy of intelligent,
hard-headed rascals-at any rate in its higher manifestations. There are
plenty of dupes and sincere twerps lower down who are able to convince
themselves they can spot a nonrelational balancing interrelationship in
any American daub they are shown."
- Some catechists are shocked, simply shocked, by the idea that lay people-meaning
people without any kind of professional training or certification-might
actually read the Catechism of the Catholic Church for themselves.
If things are not to be mediated and interpreted by professionals, just
what are catechists for, after all? An amusing instance of this is by a
John F. Craghan in "The Catechism and Future Catechetics," published
by Liguori Publications of Missouri. Craghan reminds the laity that the
Catechism is addressed to the bishops, and that catechists will prepare
materials fit for lay consumption that "will reflect [our] culture's
interpretation of the Catholic tradition." Such materials will replace
the "sexist language" with "inclusive language," of
course, will reflect the U.S. bishops' teaching on the economy and peace
(or one version of that teaching), and will in other respects correct the
deficiencies of the Catechism itself. "Theologians, biblicists, historians,
liturgists, catechists, etc. will be asked to pool their talents for the
good of the community." (Biblicists? Surely he means biblical scholars.)
Craghan continues: "That good will also demand their improving certain
areas in the Catechism. Loyalty to the tradition also calls for the courage
to change." He then adds, "'A disciple is not above the teacher,'
Jesus tells us today, 'but everyone who is fully qualified will be like
the teacher.'" Clearly the teacher in question is not John Paul II
or the Church's magisterium but the catechetical guild. For Craghan and
those of like mind, it is likely a cause of deep regret that millions of
copies of the Catechism are already in circulation, thus making it too
late to chain it to the library post where access could be limited to the
catechetically correct. One would not be at all surprised to learn that
John Craghan believes himself to be a strong proponent of empowering the
- The truth is not always shocking, frightening, or novel; sometimes
the greatest good sense is found in straightforward and anodyne statements
of old-fashioned truths. At their fifteenth meeting, the International
Catholic-Jewish Liaison Committee made such a statement, finding shared
commitments to the family in Catholic and Jewish traditions. "The
family is humanity's most precious resource," the Committee members
declared in the joint statement. "The family is far more than a legal,
social, or economic unit. For both Catholics and Jews it is a stable community
of love and solidarity based on God's covenant. It is uniquely suited to
teaching and handing on the cultural, ethical, social, and spiritual values
that are essential for the development and well-being of its members and
of society. The rights and obligations of the family in these areas do
not come from the State but exist prior to the State and ultimately have
their source in God the Creator." Great differences remain to be discussed
in Catholic-Jewish dialogue, but what serious Catholics and Jews have in
common is, as this statement reminds us, a continuing commitment to the
sort of things that used to seem obvious.
- Art, said St. Thomas Aquinas, is recta ratio factibilium- an
activity rightly ordered not to the producer of the work of art, and not
to the viewer, but to the work of art itself. Somewhere in the nineteenth
century, we seemed to decide that art should be about artists (and so high
art and the aesthetes appeared) or that art should be about viewers (and
so low art and the philistines appeared). Twentieth-century postmodernists,
in claiming to be high artists ironically slumming in low art, are at least
seeking some escape from the nineteenth-century division. But the only
real possibility for escape requires that we seek through art the object
of beauty in all its integrity, consonance, and effulgence (to borrow from
St. Thomas again). And that requires artists to have a sense of the Transcendent,
a sense-not to put too fine a point on it-of God. There is at least one
journal, Image: A Journal of the Arts and Religion, that has since
1989 been seeking out writers and visual artists who have this sense of
the Transcendent. The world of art in America is nearly as complicated
as the world of religion, and even more difficult to address. There is
the question of what constitutes authentic religious art. A weak theology
makes a weak theologian, while a weak theology doesn't necessarily make
a weak artist. But Image consistently aims for Christian orthodoxy
(broadly construed), and does succeed in finding strong artists. Subscriptions
to the quarterly journal may be obtained by calling 1 (800) 815-2997.
- John Adams Hurson, majority leader of the House of Delegates in Maryland,
responds to a citizen who urges him to take a position in favor of the
legal protection of the unborn. Mr. Hurson writes: "Being a Roman
Catholic, my religion teaches that abortion is the taking of life. But
religious beliefs require an act of faith. Incorporating religion into
the laws of the state violates the separation of church and state."
Seldom is a dumb position stated so flat-footedly. Biology, not religion,
teaches that abortion is the taking of life. Further, the real act of faith
is to believe that in a democracy the laws of the state can be sustained
in isolation from the moral convictions of its citizens, including moral
convictions formed by religious faith. By the logic of Mr. Hurson and too
many other politicians, the Constitution requires that disagreements about
morality must always be resolved in favor of the position that is not supported
by religious tradition. It is a logic as embarrassingly incoherent as,
for some politicians, it is wondrously expedient.
- "Thank God I'm alive and my baby is healthy," said Jean Morgan
of Hauppauge, Long Island, after being rescued from the trunk of her car
where two thugs had locked her in six hours earlier. Mrs. Morgan was five
months pregnant. That is from the story in the New York Times. On
the same morning, the anchor on New York One, a local news show,
concluded her version of the story with, "Both mother and baby are
well." Then a brief look of consternation and this correction, "I
mean the fetus, of course."
- Both Jacob Neusner and Isaac Rottenberg are familiar to FT readers.
In the Journal of Ecumenical Studies, the latter challenges the
former's suggestion that the Jewish-Christian dialogue to date has been
pretty much a fraud. Many years ago, Arthur Cohen declared that the idea
of a common Judeo-Christian tradition is a "myth," and Neusner
agrees. Rottenberg says Neusner is in fact asking us to "accept the
fact that Judaism and Christianity are entirely different and essentially
unrelated religions." "In short," writes Rottenberg, "Neusner
seeks dialogue with a radically de-Judaized Christianity. . . . I believe
that to that invitation we must say 'No, thank you.' We have gone that
route before; we have done so contrary to the New Testament witness, and
it has had disastrous consequences. On that point Christians must simply
say 'Never again,' because it would mean a return to bad history and ancient
heresies." Rottenberg continues: "For Christians the answer to
supersessionism and sinful triumphalism cannot be total separation, because
the very soul of the church's kerygma lies in the message of Moses and
the prophets to which Jesus claimed to be faithful and to which he wanted
to be true-even unto death. Perhaps Neusner is right when he argues that
we have gone too far too fast, or at least have prematurely assumed points
of consensus where there was still much mutual incomprehension. I see no
problem in focusing on Neusner's approach to mutual clarification, but
all that, it seems to me, is still pre-dialogical. In the end Jews and
Christians must face what Arthur Cohen has called 'a contest of truth.'
Such a dialogue will involve a good deal of disputation, but let us hope
that we will have learned to do that with a measure of grace and humor."
- After years of study, the New York State Task Force on Life and the
Law came out strongly against the legalizing of assisted suicide. In an
editorial titled "Mercy for the Dying," the New York Times,
all too predictably, criticized the Task Force in harsh terms. Tracy E.
Miller, executive director of the Task Force, responded with this letter
to the editor: "You presume that many patients would want to commit
suicide. Many people believe they might opt for suicide rather than endure
a vastly diminished quality of life. Yet often when patients are confronted
with terminal illness, continued life becomes more precious. Most terminally
ill people, when given appropriate relief from pain and depression, even
those with AIDS and cancer, do not want to kill themselves. You dismiss
the risks of legalizing assisted suicide noted in our report as 'nightmarishly
speculative.' We do not presume doctors want to kill their patients to
save money. We identify more subtle and pervasive risks: doctors who are
caring but too harried to explain the alternatives to patients, those who
will recommend suicide without appreciating the profound effect the recommendation
will have on patients, and those who will not treat pain and depression
before offering death as a preferred option. Undertreatment of pain and
depression, which most commonly lead patients to think of suicide, are
widespread in clinical practice. 'Burnout' and lack of familiarity with
pain relief correlate with physician willingness to endorse or assist suicide.
You assume that if we had the right guidelines, abuse or mistakes would
be minimized. How many lives lost to abuse or mistake would be too many?
How could society enforce any standards for decisions shrouded in the privacy
of the doctor-patient relationship? It is also naive to assume assisted
suicide could be insulated from bias and social inequality. In a recent
study, those treated for cancer at centers that care predominantly for
minority patients were three times less likely to get adequate pain relief.
Blacks are also far less likely than whites to get such procedures as coronary
bypass surgery. Mercy for the dying is an undebatable goal, but we must
not endanger the vulnerable."
- On the one hand, there is the ordination of women, and, on the other,
the move toward lay presidency at the Eucharist. In the Anglican communion,
both are going on at the same time, and are frequently supported by the
same people. The diocese of Sydney, Australia, has already approved lay
presidency, and it is being debated elsewhere. Some women protest lay presidency,
wondering what's the big deal about being ordained if ordination doesn't
matter. Monica Furlong, an English activist and author, sees no contradiction
between campaigning for the ordination of women and having the Eucharist
without an ordained person presiding. At her St. Hilda's community, one
lay person says the words "for convenience," but the idea is
that "the whole community does the celebrating." "The priesthood
of women is about declericalizing the Church," she says, "changing
it in a way that makes it inclusive. The unseen priesthood is what interests
me more than the lay presidency. What we are about is eating supper together
in the context of Christ, and that is a moving experience." Paraphrasing
Flannery O'Connor's famous retort to Mary McCarthy: If it's just a moving
experience, I say to hell with it.
- Reviewing a book on American exiles in Paris, Christopher Lehmann-
Haupt of the New York Times refers to "Maurice Girodias, best
known as a purveyor of pornography in his famous Olympia Press but also
not incidentally the publisher of such modern classics as Nabokov's
Lolita, J. P. Donleavy's Ginger Man, Burroughs' Naked Lunch,
and Pauline Reage's Story of O." So it isn't as though Girodias
only published pornography.
- It's playing in Peoria. In 1991 there were 1,210 divorces in Peoria.
That year the clergy there adopted "Community Marriage Policy"
(CMP), and in 1992 there were 947 divorces. Cause-effect relations are
hard to prove beyond reasonable doubt, but in twenty-seven cities across
the country clergy are persuaded that CMP is making a difference. CMP is
the brainchild of religion columnist Michael McManus, who has written a
book and, with the help of the Southern Baptists and the American Family
Association, put together instructive videos under the title Marriage
Savers. The idea is that clergy and local churches agree not to marry
couples who have not prepared for marriage, and to foster "church
interventions" to save marriages in trouble. In six videos, couples
discuss how their lives were changed by church interventions that helped
them to avoid a bad marriage before it starts, to obtain "marriage
insurance" as engaged couples, to strengthen existing marriages, to
save even deeply troubled marriages, to reconcile separated and divorced
couples, to enable the divorced to recover, and to help people avoid a
second divorce. Everybody is talking about the importance of family formation
and saving marriages; Mike McManus and his growing host of friends are
doing something about it. For information, write him at 9500 Michael's
Court, Bethesda, MD 20817.
- Ken Burns brought us The Civil War on PBS a couple of years
ago, and it was something extraordinary. Since then there have been a number
of shamelessly imitative spin-offs. For instance, Burns' own Baseball,
which was properly scorched by George Weigel for its political correctness
(Commentary, November 1994). Both spin-off and rip-off was Paul
and Ellen Wagner's Out of Ireland, also shown on PBS. The two-hour
program acknowledged that Catholicism had something to do with the immigrant
Irish, and so the Catholic Church got three minutes of attention, along
with Irish views on leprechauns, fairies, and other superstitions. Out
of Ireland repeatedly projected photographs over the reading of letters
to which the people in the photographs had no connection, and laced the
program with generally banal commentators striving, and pathetically failing,
to do what Shelby Foote did for The Civil War. Of course the Irish immigration
was not the Civil War, but millions of people fleeing from oppression
and hunger to find a new life in a new world is a story not devoid of dramatic
- The usually sensible and entertaining Spectator (London) has David
Caute, of all people, review the much-discussed book The Secret World
of American Communism by Harvey Klehr et al. (Yale University Press).
If the review is meant as entertainment, it doesn't quite come off. Drawing
on newly opened Soviet archives, The Secret World, almost all scholars
agree, demolishes the lie that American Communists were simply "liberals
in a hurry." The archives resoundingly vindicate Whittaker Chambers
and others who depicted Communists in the U.S. as active agents in the
pay and under the direction of the Soviet Union, and dedicated to the betrayal
of their country for the sake of The Revolution. The problem is that Mr.
Caute is one of the chief perpetrators of the old lie, having in 1978 published
The Great Fear: The Anti-Communist Purge Under Truman and Eisenhower,
the gist of which was to pooh-pooh any Communist threat and demonstrate
how Joe McCarthy and his minions brought liberty-loving Americans to their
knees. In 1995 David Caute can and does write, "The Soviet threat,
whether real or perceived, served as a pretext for reversing the New Deal
and keeping Negroes in their place." Whether real or perceived? Faced
by Klehr & Co. with irrefutable documentary proof that he had been
duped all these years, Caute can only react with an extended and irrelevant
complaint that the Yale scholars have received handsome foundation support
for their research. That such research is well supported is hardly surprising;
not nearly so surprising as David Caute having access to the pages of the
Spectator for his continuing exercises in mendacity.
- According to our local paper, a Dr. Mark Siegler, who, as they say,
"does" medical ethics at the University of Chicago, was holding
forth on the marvelous new technologies for extending life. "A generation
ago," Dr. Siegler said, "death was not optional." Think
- Rodney Clapp of InterVarsity Press is ambivalent about the ascendancy
of religious conservatives in our political culture. "One way the
religious right can be read is as the latest manifestation of the evangelical
refusal to admit and accept the passing of Americanized Constantinianism-which
basically means evangelicalism's own hegemony over the culture. The religious
right tenaciously, if vaguely, holds to the memory of the evangelical religious,
legislative, and educational domination of this country that did not erode
until the late nineteenth century. A few years ago, historian Douglas Frank
provocatively suggested that American evangelicals in the late nineteenth
and early twentieth centuries switched from a postmillenial to a premillennial
eschatology because they lost control of the nation. Put oversimply, when
things were under their reign, evangelicals easily assumed God was triumphing
through their regnant institutions. When the Lord returned, he would be
greeted by a materially triumphant church. But when things were no longer
under their reign, evangelicals assumed the country was going to hell,
yet ingeniously gained another sort of control by claiming to possess ultimately
powerful knowledge-the exact timetable for the Lord's return, and the way
to escape God's wrath while seeing justice done to those who resisted the
true way. Such an eschatology allows-if not encourages-the anger and fear
now so pervasive among conservative evangelicals. It expects matters to
grow worse and worse (read, more and more out of evangelical control),
eventually pitting out in an absolute moral and social nadir just before
Jesus returns. Whatever its strengths, this eschatology is terribly susceptible
to an ugly and smug spirit of triumphalism. There is little about it that
urges conservative evangelicals to beware their own sinful and self- deceptive
construals of unfolding history." Clapp agrees that there is a great
deal of bigotry, especially on campuses and in the media, against Christian
conservatives, but the bigotry is mixed with legitimate anxiety that evangelicals
are trying to get back at the culture that disestablished them. "Then,
I want to say, they are not only failing to be politically correct. They
are failing to be theologically correct."
- Christian Reconstructionists, sometimes
called theonomists, keep on ploughing their eccentric Calvinist furrow,
and along the way turn up new ideological enemies and even heresies. Pessimillennialism,
for instance. Chalcedon Report, the chief Reconstructionist voice,
notes: "One of the most devastating ideological strongholds that inhibits
the development and implementation of a consistent biblical worldview is
what is now popularly known as Pessimillennialism." Within the constricted
world of Reconstructionism, ten people being aware of something makes it
popularly known. The author continues, "Pessimillennialism is the
belief that regardless of what Christians do, it is God's plan that the
Church (and thus Christian culture) suffer inevitable disaster and defeat
in this age. Pessimillennialism thus robs Christians of the expectation
of and motivation for victory in time." In view of what might be described
as theonomy's Optimillennialist plans for reconstructing society on the
basis of its understanding of "Bible Law," a measured sympathy
for the Pessimillennialists is perhaps in order.
- In Bergamo in Northern Italy there is an order of nuns with the hefty
name of Little Sisters of the Poor of the Palazzolo Institute. They have
medical sisters working all over Africa, including Zaire, where six have
died from the Ebola virus, having been infected while ministering to others
with the disease. Sister Bakita Sartore was asked whether the sisters who
died might have taken greater precautions. She said, "You cannot care
for the poor in astronaut suits."
- In an editorial bemoaning President Clinton's flip-flopping on almost
every question he addresses, the New Republic concludes: "It
would be pitiful, if it weren't so deeply depressing." Or maybe it
would be deeply depressing, if it weren't so pitiful. Or something.
- In speeches and in letters written on official embassy stationery,
Raymond L. Flynn, U.S. Ambassador to the Vatican and former Mayor of Boston,
has been taking it upon himself to explain that Catholic social teaching
comes down on President Clinton's side in his battles with the Republican
Congress. A couple of years of breathing the wisdom of the eternal city
produces insights such as these: "As with all human undertakings,
some of the Great Society programs to assist the poor and disadvantaged
did not work according to their promise, but we have to be careful not
to throw the baby out with the bath water." Flynn notes that some
Republicans have criticized him "for pointing out the similarity between
Catholic social teaching and the Clinton Administration programs to assist
the poor." He is unfazed. "I do not see the conflict. The Vatican
and the present administration do disagree on many things, but not on the
necessity to assist the poor and less fortunate." Those who oppose
Mr. Clinton, it is understood, are against helping the poor and less fortunate.
Our sources in Rome would like to have it understood that Raymond Flynn
does not represent the Holy See in the American political fray. Since he
obviously does not understand the job, perhaps it is time to get somebody
else to do what Ambassador Flynn is paid to do, namely, represent the U.S.
to the Holy See.
- The letter is addressed to "Dear Freedom-Loving American,"
so of course we read it eagerly. It begins with a fictional news story
dated April 27, 2003, which tells about the execution of a woman who obtained
an abortion, and goes on this way: "Imagine, if you can, an America
in which a thirty-year-old woman could be put to death for aborting a fetus
that had no chance of survival-and that might have caused her death as
well! Or an America in which you could get thrown in jail just for possessing
a book illustrating 'forbidden' love-making techniques. Or owning a contraceptive
device. . . . Or bearing a child out of wedlock. Or-heaven help you!-living
with the opposite sex without 'benefit of clergy.' Imagine a long prison
term, without parole, for publishing a book that challenged the existence
of the supernatural. Or six months' hard labor for 'taking the Lord's name
in vain.' . . ." It goes on in that vein for four pages, all this
promoting "FREE INQUIRY: THE VOICE TO COUNTER THE DEMAGOGUES!"
The magazine is published by the Council for Democratic and Secular Humanism
in Amherst, New York (Professor Paul Kurtz, bishop and founder). One shudders
to think of the pickle we'd be in if we didn't have such a sober and dispassionate
voice to counter the demagogues.
- Those who were on the ground floor of launching the enterprise called
biomedical ethics-people such as Leon Kass, Paul Ramsey, Edmund Pellegrino,
and Dan Callahan-were not entirely sure that it could ever become a discipline,
and the more thoughtful participants in the enterprise are not sure that
it has. A medical ethicist, it is said, is someone who declares himself
to be such and is recognized as such by others who have declared themselves
to be such. But much the same can be said of any discipline. Presumably
they are people who have thought a lot about medicine and ethics in the
company of others who have thought a lot about medicine and ethics. In
any event, the discipline, even presenting itself as a profession, is with
us, and is not likely to go away soon. On the contrary, as these folk (sometimes
called bioethicists) encounter more problems (and produce more problems),
their services become increasingly mandatory. Not least of all because
people in the research and practical ends of medicine need somebody around
to give them ethical permission to do what they want to do, and there has
to be a body of people who are authorized to hand out permission slips.
In short, one views biomedical ethics with a measure of ambivalence. Since
it is around, however, it is worth knowing what these people are up to,
which is why a new monthly publication may be of interest to some readers.
It is called Moral Community: The Monthly Digest of Health Care Ethics
News, and is edited by Philip Foubert. (A one-year subscription is
$109 from Ethics Consultation Services, 38003 Hood Canal Drive N.E., Hansville,
- By describing himself as a "bloodless utilitarian," Robert
Wright of the New Republic perhaps signals a certain uneasiness
about his bloody argument. In his regular "TRB" column, Wright
asks why people make such a big deal about China scheduling the execution
of prisoners to get body parts for sale to rich patients. He allows that
China shouldn't be sentencing people to death for their political beliefs,
but, since they do, it would be a shame to let fresh corpses go to waste.
Anyway, Wright notes, the rich get preferential medical treatment in America,
too. As for the really bad guys, we owe them nothing. "If after Ted
Bundy's execution you could have given his liver to some child who would
otherwise die, would you have done so? . . . If accelerating Ted Bundy's
death by a week would save the life of your son or daughter or sibling,
would the idea acquire some moral plausibility?" In the pages of the
New Republic this passes for moral philosophy. As for the Chinese
marketing the organs of executed prisoners, Wright says that "we don't
have enough data to deem the practice immoral in some universal, self-evident
sense." Data? It is a word that would occur only to bloodless utilitarians
as being pertinent to forming a judgment about the killing and exploitation
of human beings.
- "The importance of maintaining appropriate regard for nascent
human life cannot be overstated." That's from the conclusion of a
little medical ethics essay by Sister Jean deBois of the Saint Louis University
Medical Center. "Appropriate" is such a convenient word. It enables
Sister Jean not to let regard for nascent human life get in the way of
her conclusion that "once the diagnosis of anencephaly has been made
the pregnancy may be terminated at any time." Anencephalic babies
are missing major portions of the brain and die within a few hours of birth.
The official Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Health Facilities
says that "Abortion, that is, the directly intended termination of
pregnancy before viability, is never permitted." The common practice
is to wait until the baby reaches the stage of viability when labor is
induced, the baby is delivered, and then is given "comfort care"
and allowed to die. Employing the ethical theory of proportionalism, Sr.
Jean proposes that "viability" be redefined so as to apply only
to "a live born infant having the capacity for continued, integrated
growth and development." Given the "emotional trauma" experienced
by a couple upon diagnosis of anencephaly, and given the fact that the
baby will never be "viable" by the criteria proposed, abortion
is permissible at any time. The essay does not challenge the pernicious
use of prenatal testing undertaken with an eye toward aborting the unfit.
Moreover, given the plasticity of criteria such as "continued, integrated
growth and development," combined with the appeal to the psychological
suffering of the mother, the logic invites an extension to the possibility
of eliminating almost any unwanted child. While presumably being limited
to the rare instances of anencephaly, the structure of the argument is
indistinguishable from that employed by the proponents of abortion on demand.
It is not surprising that, according to informed sources, at St. Louis
University Medical Center handicapped babies have been aborted, sterilizations
are performed, and contraception is commonly prescribed. In the current
climate of health care restructuring, many Catholic institutions are entering
into new relationships with non-Catholic facilities, and it seems likely
that statements about "appropriate regard for nascent human life"
will increasingly accent the "appropriate." Appropriate-as in
proportion to the good to be achieved by doing evil.
- The toy Doberman snaps again. When Senator Bob Dole criticized Time
Warner for exploiting sundry human depravities, Frank Rich of the New
York Times charged that he was flirting with anti-Semitism because
the CEO of Time Warner is Jewish. To which the formidable Michael Medved
responds in the Jewish weekly, Forward: "Leave it to a Frank
Rich to try to strengthen in the public's mind the association of Hollywood
irresponsibility with Jewish people. It's absolutely ludicrous for anyone
to suggest that criticism of Hollywood is by its nature anti-Semitic."
Why, some of our best friends agree with Frank Rich, which does not necessarily
make them anti-Semites. They do not really intend to discredit legitimate
concern about anti-Semitism. Mr. Rich, we assume, does not intend to do
that either. It seems he just can't help himself.
- "In the Case of Pat Robertson" in the August issue of Commentary
is a brilliant inquiry by Norman Podhoretz into charges of anti-Semitism
brought against Robertson and, more generally, against the Christian Right.
After weighing the evidence with care, and censuring Robertson's delinquencies
on several scores, Mr. Podhoretz concludes that Jews should recognize in
Robertson and the movement he represents a friend and ally. A similar conclusion
is reached by Toby Bulman Katz, writing in the Summer 1995 issue of Jewish
Action, a publication of the Union of Orthodox Jewish Congregations
of America. Criticizing the attacks on Christian activists by the Anti-Defamation
League (ADL) and others, Katz writes: "If the United States becomes
a noticeably more religious country over the next few years, Jews, especially
secular Jews, may feel a certain level of psychological discomfort. However,
the specific goals of the Christian Right are goals which Torah-true Jews
generally share. Furthermore, trying to thwart the popular will is more
likely to provoke than to prevent anti-Semitism. We should show a face
of friendship and commonality rather than one of rejection and enmity to
the newly reemerging Christian majority, while maintaining a certain inevitable
wariness. It is particularly saddening to see Jews, the people who gave
the world the Bible, treating religious believers as the enemy, merely
because they love our Book too well. Where right-wing groups or individuals
cross the line into anti-Semitism or bigotry, the ADL has the right and
the duty to sound the alarm. But it is not part of the ADL's mandate to
involve itself in partisan political battles."
- Of course it's a lie, but the sheer brazenness of it elicits something
akin to respect. It's this week's new Bible translation (it does seem there
is one every week), which is, as is all too often the case, no translation
at all. This one is called The Inclusive New Testament and is published
by an outfit called Priests for Equality in Hyattsville, Maryland. Read
what Anne Carr, professor of theology at the University of Chicago, no
less, says about it: "The text reads smoothly and beautifully, betraying
no other agenda than a faithful rendition of the New Testament." Uh
huh. Then read the allegedly faithful rendition of, for instance, Colossians
3:18f. But first recall the passage (Revised Standard Version): "Wives,
be subject to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord. Husbands, love
your wives, and do not be harsh with them. Children, obey your parents
in everything, for this pleases the Lord." And so forth. Now the same
(so to speak) passage in The Inclusive New Testament: "You who are
in committed relationships, be submissive to each other. This is your duty
in Christ Jesus. Partners joined by God, love each other. Avoid any bitterness
between you." And so forth. What to do when faced with a problematic
text? Simply to say it is wrong might offend the faithful. Explaining how
it really says what one wishes it to say takes effort, and may be unpersuasive.
The much easier, albeit dishonest, thing is to rewrite the text and call
it a translation. Professor Carr is the author of Transforming Grace.
Watch for her next book, Transforming Texts.
- (1) Reporters, talk show producers, and other media drones who tell
you how much and how long they have admired your work, and then begin the
interview with the question, "Have you written anything about religion
in America?" (2) College students who say they are writing a paper
on you and ask you to send them a fifteen-page summary of your thought
on this or that. In other words, Please write my paper for me. (3) Writers
of three-page letters who saw something you said in a newspaper, offer
ten points in objection, demand an explicit and detailed response to each,
and are offended when you politely suggest that they read an article or
at least look at a book in which you have dealt with exactly the points
raised. (4) Strangers who send you a four- hundred-page manuscript and
insist upon a dust jacket blurb because it is the most important book to
be published in the last couple of centuries, and because you are favorably
quoted in a footnote on page 273. The foregoing are among our least favorite
things about this job. Please don't do them. This plea is prompted by all
of them happening, once again, this week.
- "The almost total identification of the Religious
Right with the new Republican majority in Washington is a dangerous liaison
of religion with political power." That's from a "Cry for Renewal"
signed by a hundred folk described as religious leaders, and written by
our old friend Jim Wallis of Sojourners and the Christian Century's
favorite evangelical, sociologist Tony Campolo. There is indeed a danger
in the liaison between religion and political power, but it seems somewhat
late, if not disingenuous, for some of the signers to be pointing that
out. Jim Wallis, Presiding Bishop Edmond Browning of the Episcopal Church,
and Joan Campbell Brown of the National Council of Churches (NCC) have
devoted most of their lives to cultivating the liaison between religion
and liberal politics. (Why the declaration carries the signature of J.
I. Packer is a puzzlement.) Frank Rich of the New York Times loved
the statement, declaring that "Christians flee the Christian Coalition."
He quotes one of the signers, Robert Brooks, who flatly declares, "I
tell you that the Christian Coalition does not speak for me, and it does
not speak for the Episcopal Church." So there. That should decisively
scotch the rumor that Ralph Reed had enlisted the support of the Episcopal
Church in exchange for taking over its multi-million dollar debts resulting
from embezzlement and general mismanagement. Refusing to compromise their
integrity, the Episcopalians and the NCC will just have to find some other
way of paying last month's phone bill. "Cry for Renewal" repeatedly
claims to speak for "biblical faith," which is defined exclusively
in terms moral, social, and political. In this curious version of "biblical
faith" there is not a mention of sin, redemption, the cross, resurrection,
or the hope of glory. We counted one reference to God and one to Jesus,
the latter only to point out that he teaches us not "to abandon or
blame the poor for their oppression." We are told that "religious
faith and values" should make public discourse "more honest,
moral, civil, and spiritually sensitive." The statement alludes to
many questions that we need to engage in a more honest, moral, civil, and
spiritually sensitive way. Among the questions not mentioned are:
abortion, euthanasia, parental choice in education, religion in public
schools, welfare dependency, crime, divorce, and collapsing family structures.
"Cry for Renewal" is, in sum, a patently partisan attack on the
"dangerous liaison of religion with political power" by those
whose party used to be in charge of that liaison. It refuses to address
the issues that most divide Americans, it exacerbates the incivility that
it deplores, and it has little or nothing to do with biblical faith. But
in this season of their discontent, we should perhaps not begrudge the
Frank Riches of American religion and culture whatever scraps of consolation
they can scavenge from the rubble of their former rule.
- I suppose it was supposed to be something like an expose. Writing in
the Christian Century, Leon Howell reports that organizations such
as the Institute on Religion and Public Life and the Ethics and Public
Policy Center receive grants from foundations. His article concludes with
this, "Neoconservatives have shown not only that they are ready and
eager to battle over the shape of the culture, but that they are willing
to invest in the journals and think tanks that help mobilize the troops.
Neuhaus, [George] Weigel, and others might say that neoconservatives have
flourished in the culture wars largely on the strength of their ideas.
But the money from [foundations] hasn't hurt." He is entirely right
about that, of course. The ideas haven't hurt either. Actually, Mr. Howell
is something of an expert on the indispensability of building a support
base among readers and contributors. Two years ago, as editor, he presided
over the demise of the once distinguished liberal publication Christianity
& Crisis, which died of terminal lack of interest.
- "Father Neuhaus is a man who on occasion plays fast and loose
with the truth," reports the Christian News, a national publication
issuing from New Haven, Missouri. Back in February, I noted in these pages
that when I was a boy the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod, to which I belonged,
taught that it was "the true visible church on earth." Christian
News offers this clarification: "No serious Missouri Synod theologian
ever contended that the LC-MS is, in and of itself, the true visible church.
The LC-MS and other confessional Lutheran bodies have always held that
the Evangelical Lutheran Church is the true visible church. The Evangelical
Lutheran Church encompasses all church bodies and synods that hold to God's
inerrant Word, the Holy Bible, and to the Book of Concord as a correct
and true exposition of the Holy Scriptures." I stand corrected. I
should have said that the Missouri Synod taught that the Missouri Synod
and other bodies that are in agreement with the Missouri Synod constitute
the true visible church on earth. The way I put it made it sound as though
the teaching represented a somewhat narrow view of the comprehensiveness
of the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church.
- Our most influential American church historian, Martin E. Marty, notes
in his newsletter, Context, some data from Jews and the New American
Scene by Seymour Martin Lipset and Earl Raab (Harvard University Press),
a book on which we have previously commented. Jews, who are approximately
2 percent of the American population, "have made up 50 percent of
the top two hundred intellectuals, 40 percent of American Nobel Prize-winners
in science and economics, 20 percent of the professors at the leading universities,
21 percent of high-level civil servants, 40 percent of partners in the
leading law firms of New York and Washington, 26 percent of the reporters,
editors, and executives of the major print and broadcast media, and 59
percent of the directors, writers, and producers of the fifty top-grossing
motion pictures." Marty then asks, "What will Pat Robertson do
with such statistics?" The more pertinent question is, What is Martin
Marty doing with such statistics? Apart from taking a mean-spirited swipe
at Pat Robertson, that is. Pat Robertson has been quite clear about what
he makes of the role of Jews and Judaism in modern history (see "Anti-Semitism
and Our Common Future," June/July 1995). Robertson believes that Jews
are God's chosen people, recognizes the talent and energy of many Jews,
has placed Jews in high positions in his organizations, and is a generous
supporter of Israel. Robertson is, to put it gently, no historian, and
he has no doubt said many things that can and should be faulted. Not among
them, to the best of our knowledge, is implying that those with whom he
disagrees are anti-Semitic. Or perhaps that is not what Professor Marty
intended to suggest with his question, "What will Pat Robertson do
with such statistics?"
- On the day the London Times ran a story about a Church of England
bishop who succeeded in raising an eyebrow or two by explaining the expendability
of yet another cardinal doctrine of the faith, this letter to the editor
appeared (from a man who lives on "Church Street" in Somerset):
"Sir, There doesn't seem very much left for us agnostics not to believe