Pierce: response

[This is an update to the previous post]

Tom Roberts at NCR mentioned the Pierce essay on his blog. In the comments section of that blog, I mentioned my response to Pierce (see previous post here).  Roberts then did a follow-up post, highlighting my response to Pierce (thank you).

So now, via Roberts' blog on the National Catholic Reporter website, here's a heartfelt, and thoughtful response to my post by Winifred Holloway.  I don't think that we're on opposing sides, we're all thinking aloud here -- and I must acknowledge that many of my own friends (both "regular" parish members and theologians) would say she represents them well:

I think Nancy Dallavalle misses the point of Pierce's essay. It was not that he was merely giving intellectual assent in his own way to the Church in his mind. I read it as a frustrated cry of a committed Catholic who is dismayed, possibly heartbroken, (I know I am) by the retreat the leadership has made into the medieval era with its pomp, privileges and a seeming notion that they posses the divine right of kings. This is not the Church that we came of age in. It is not the Church that I always thought of as a light in the world and was proud and grateful to be part of. I don't think Pierce was denying our community with one another. I think he believes the community has been hijacked by a willful, obstinate and overprivliged hierarchy. They do not listen to the other members of the community. Since lay people have no power in this "community", many like Charlie (and me) attend Mass, do what we can as Christians in the world, and hold to our beliefs in the faith that has nourished us all our lives. Not easy to do. Those open windows have been slammed shut. A kings and serfs church is not a community.

Well said.  This is why we are all frustrated.  But that faith ("that has nourished us all our lives") is not free-floating, it is bound to -- given by/lived through -- an institution.  Grace is mediated (not only, but) primarily and in an exemplary way in the sacraments offered by a specific community that is "small c" catholic  horizontally (now, in many places, in communion in the present) and "large C" Catholic vertically (received, in communion with the past, and in particular ways, in communion with the founding story).

I know -- you knew that already, thank you very much, professor.   But I think that "Catholic" (sacramental, structured community) is the most powerful social and religious idea around, and I don't want it lost just because every possible mis-reading of it seems to be ascendant all around us -- in the medieval flailing that deforms reasonable questions about liturgy in Rome; in the tribalism that deforms the common good sensibility so needed for "Catholics in politics" in the U.S.; in the fetishizing instrumentalism that blunts, world-wide, the Church's crucial message about the absolute dignity of all human life.

'Catholic' is how we are together, it is how God is with us, it is how we should be with the world.  We can despair, we can fail, we can rail -- but we cannot retreat from this.  Ms. Holloway is right on target and, like Pierce (and myself), seems unlikely to quit the institution she decries.  We are all here, in the pews, this very mixed story is ours, as is the grace that we find mediated in this structured community.  We can cling to the notion that we are somehow innocent victims, or we can try to move the very mixed story forward.  I'm pushing for the latter.

Charles Pierce, Boston Globe: MTP

In this weekend's Boston Globe magazine, author Charles P. Pierce outlines a vision of a late-modern (hyper-masculine?) settlement with Catholic Christianity in his "What I Believe."  Outraged by the failures of the institution, failures that he correctly observes are systemic, not merely regrettable episodes, Pierce limns the lament of one who sees the faith in the somber hues of purple.  He values the rich intellectual and cultural story that has shaped him, but he now must jettison the structures that have carried and shaped that story.  He continues to "practice" as a Catholic but, as an American, he claims, what is central to him is that his faith "is mine -- a personal church..."

Reading it, I realize that yes, he does speak for many Catholics who, in order to stay sane, have mentally separated themselves from the institution, "defecting in place," as they continue to attend Mass and receive the sacraments.  I think he means to give his readers permission to do the same.

I understand the offer. I decline.

On Roger Haight, and catholicity

The Vatican's latest -- which, in Vatican time, is not the same as "recent" -- attempt to keep Roger Haight's views from tender Catholic ears seems curiously tone-deaf. (The short story: the Vatican's Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith -- the CDF -- has raised questions about Haight's work for some time now, limiting his ability to work in Catholic institutions. The latest news is that Haight has been asked not to teach anywhere. To read John Allen's analysis, which lays out the specific theological issues, click HERE.)

[UPDATE, 1/8/2008:  Allen adds to his analysis HERE, the title summarizes, "Behind Haight sanctions, pope's fear of relativism."  With regard to the issue of the theology of religions -- see Allen's closing observation -- here's a programming note for local readers: on Wednesday, March 25th, Haight's Jesuit brother Frank Clooney will speak at 8:00 pm in the Dolan School of Business at Fairfield University on "Christian Faith in Light of Hindusim."]

To put it broadly, Roger Haight, a highly respected Jesuit theologian and teacher, has raised numerous questions with his work on Christology and ecclesiology. His work brings forward the intellectual issues of our day, as these pertain to Christian theology -- how can we claim that salvation in Jesus Christ is a unique event? What does it mean to belong to a faith that claims one period as "normative," but also claims that history matters? What does it mean to take seriously the encounter with other religions?

As he thinks carefully about how to articulate the Christian faith in the contemporary milieu, Haight makes claims that go well beyond (some would say, “violate”) what has been held as settled doctrine. In many ways, the problem is as much the first as the second half of the previous sentence -- if he just made up a bunch of wacky stuff, no one would notice. But instead, because he knows the tradition and is thinking in careful, systematic and scholarly fashion with the church and the world, his work is seen as so dangerous that he cannot be trusted now with any students, anywhere.

I think that the CDF has the right, and the duty, to engage directly and publicly with the thought of those who call themselves Catholic theologians, which will occasionally lead to the direct and public repudiation of the work of some theologians.

But, while the Vatican should have a privileged place at the table, their voice should not be regarded as that of a sole regulatory agency – indeed, the CDF itself works in concert with many theologians, though it does not clearly acknowledge this. The faith it protects also has a historical community, of positions and commentary over centuries, though again, the CDF does not clearly acknowledge this.

Moreover, outside those walls, the contemporary community of Catholic theologians constantly engages one another's work, directly and publicly, through academic conferences, through the process of submitting work to peer-reviewed journals, and through the hiring process itself, as other religious scholars and/or Catholic theologians decide who will best serve as their colleagues.

For that community, Roger Haight was considered to be of value on all three fronts. In particular, numerous conference sessions have been devoted to his work, conference sessions that only happen because of a groundswell of interest among those who operate at the highest levels of Catholic theological scholarship. These sessions are not "celebrations," as with any scholar’s work, they bring together a group to pose direct and difficult questions, and Haight’s conclusions – as is true of most scholars who undergo this scrutiny – have met with a mixed response.

So note: The CDF is hardly the only one asking Haight difficult questions. Yet, even among those who publicly disagree with some of his solutions to the questions that challenge us all, his voice is considered, by a wide variety of mainstream Catholic theologians, to be a valuable resource for theologians who take the Catholic tradition seriously. Haight considers himself part of this community, and has been willing, over and over, to submit his work to its scrutiny.

Dangerous? Not so much.

But in this newest move, here’s what I’m curious about: Rather than removing Haight’s voice from the Catholic fold, the Vatican is now saying that Haight should not teach anywhere.

(Can they do that? Well, no, they can’t make a school the Church doesn’t control fire him, but he’s a Jesuit, so if his superiors say no teaching, he doesn’t teach…we note that with lay theologians the whole situation is somewhat more complex.)

On the one hand, perhaps this is simply the semi-fundamentalist arrogance it seems to be. At this point, I usually observe that the Vatican doesn't seem to understand that Catholics all have cable now, by which I mean that the Vatican doesn't seem to recognize that they are no longer the only player in the Catholic mind. There almost seems to be an impression that if ideas or persons are banned, Catholics will simply not hear about them.

On the other hand, I'm wondering now if there's something more afoot, and here's why I think this development bears watching: This notification about not teaching anywhere sounds, to me, like it's part of a story in which the Catholic, or catholicity, in precisely its public and universal character, is now being run up the flagpole, and is posing precisely the sort of problems that have always been latent within it. This is of a piece with the question about reason in Islam raised by Benedict earlier, with the notion of charity found in Deus Caritas Est, and with the sweeping "Ecology of Man" of the Christmas address to the Curia.

So. Stay tuned.

Full disclosure -- I cannot claim a personal friendship with Roger Haight, but I should note that he was kind and generous with his professional time on my behalf, when I was in need of professional generosity. And kindness.

All of which, BTW, does not make me special – he’s like that with everyone.