Love is patient, even if the media isn't

I usually try to wait a little for a commotion to die down before jumping in and writing about it, if for no other reason than to let my own though processes go through their own natural critical cycle, but in the last couple of days a topic has exploded in the media and it's one I've already got some pretty solidly formed thoughts on.  Of course I'm speaking about the wide range of media coverage on the apparent revelation that the Catholic Church is cool with science, and specifically with theories governing the origins of the universe, and of life itself.  I say apparent because it's not really a revelation.  That's been official church teaching for decades, and aside from a couple of notable hiccups that have more to do with politics than science, the Church has more or less always been a driving force in the generation of knowledge, both scientific and philosophical.

But  that's not the point of this post, just the context.  Yeah, the media freaked out about something they've ignored for ages, and yeah, it just goes to show that pop media has a weird obsession with Pope Francis, and yeah, it's one of those things that gets annoying for those of us who've been saying the same thing for ages whenever we get lumped in with young Earth creationists.  And it's us Catholics' reaction to it all that's the point of my post.  It was inspired by a little meme that popped up today, relatively innocuous, but it points at the issue I'm slowly and verbosely getting to.

Source:  Catholic Memes

Now, I'm a science teacher, in a Catholic system, who used to be a youth minister, so I get it... like, I really get it.  I've had to justify teaching evolution more often than your average Catholic.  I get how we can get to a point where we feel like the mood this particular meme sets up (snarky, smarter than though, sarcastic, exasperated).  I think though, we need to step back and look at how we are with people outside the faith.  For a non-Catholic, if someone of the Church converses from the stance highlighted in the meme here, how do you think that's going to go?  Is it going to soften their heart?  Is it going to make them think, 'hey, that Catholic a'int so bad'?  Is it going to build a stronger relationship with them?  I doubt it.  It's likely going to make them think 'wow, that person is annoying and self-righteous'.  

Not that I'm not like that my fair share (and a few others' fair shares) of the time.  In fact, what got me thinking about our response to the media's butchering of Church teachings was an argument I was having in an online forum where I was taking too much pride in how smart I was about it all.

What we miss when we end up participating in a conversation the way our Slowpoke friend above is, is an open door, and to be frank, we need those a lot these days.  When someone we know posts something about how much they love that Francis guy, or how they are a lapsed Catholic but gee whiz, that new Pope gives them hope, there is an invitation there.  There is a direct invitation to talk about our faith.  As much as St. Francis has been (falsely by the way) quoted as saying something along the lines of 'preach the Gospel always, use words when necessary', words are necessary much of the time, and it's pretty rare we get such an amazing invitation to use them without instantly closing a door.  It's one of the few times people outside the Church aren't starting from a defensive position.  So if we jump into a snarky, sarcastic corner, we are slamming that door shut, and re-affirming what a critic already thinks about the Church and her members.  

Again, I understand, the only media people seem to see on Christianity most of the time around here has to do with creationists protesting the teaching of science, and stuff like that, and we get really sick of being lumped into that, and having a debate that's about as productive and two sided as a climate change debate, where we vehemently defend our position to a world who's not listening to us anyway.  But for this brief, glorious moment, the world is actually listening to what the Church has to say.  It doesn't matter that we've been saying it for years.  What matters is that we have an opportunity to not only be ourselves, loving and patient, but to be seen for who we really are.  Let us be the sort of Catholics who are happy to patiently share what we know about the issue, and honest about what we don't know about it too.  I'm going to repeat that last part for emphasis.  We have an opportunity to be seen by a world that is often hostile to us, to be seen for who we really are, at least in this one facet of our faith.  

It would be a shame if what they saw was a sarcastic know it all, rather than a loving, patient, knowledgeable brother or sister.  

Stop liking what I don't like: The theologized opinion

If you can handle a bit of profanity, try Googling "Opinions are like" and let the auto suggest fill in the rest.  It's actually pretty funny because the most famous quote by Harry Callahan (I won't repeat it, you all know it) isn't the one that pops up for me, but lots of folks seem to have adapted it to fit their favourite body part!

In any case, this post is a bit of a rant about something that has bugged me for a long time, but only recent I've seemed to explicitly notice.  That's what I call the theologized opinion.  You've probably experienced it.  It's when someone forms an opinion about something, it might be important or it might be trivial, and then adapts, invents, and shoehorns a theology around it for the sake of arguing that any other opinion is wrong, and thus anyone else who holds a different opinion is wrong.  As a long time music minister I'm well familiar with the theologized opinion, as pretty much everyone in existence has an opinion about music, and when you are called to lead music at Mass, they'll be sure to tell you! 

 In my experience theologized opinions are most frequently encountered on matters that are somewhat external to the most important things, but somehow tied to them.  For example, whether guitars should be allowed at church (I've heard long winded theological arguments that a nylon string guitar should be allowed, but a steel string not allowed), the merits of syncopation and 6/8 timing (seriously, I've heard serious theological arguments that syncopation has no place in church and that 6/8 time can only be used for the closing hymn... sorry Steve Angrisano, I guess you'll have to re-write all of your music!), and the exact rules about what can and can't be worn in Church (usually following a statement along the lines of "I'm not saying we should judge anyone who is different than this ideal, but..."  Lance over at Pious Posers just wrote a good piece on this topic, check it out).  Of course, I've heard them about much more serious issues as well, the media on all sides is displaying no shortage of them in the wake of the documents that have come out since the beginning of the Synod on the Family.  I won't comment on those lest I fall into the same territory.

My favourite recent example comes from Michio Kaku's book 'Hyperspace'.  Did you know that at one point in history there was a very specific theological reason that sacred art was fully 2D and flat (those scenes where everyone looks fully two dimensional and there is no perspective in the image)?  It was because it was conveying the message that God is above all.  That in and of itself is kind of a neat idea, but there were people who theologized that version of art to the point that if they saw something like DaVinci's last supper they'd be horribly offended that it was painted with a 3D perspective that puts the viewer into the painting rather than looking upon it from a holier perspective!

Now I'm not saying that opinions and theology are mutually exclusive (sorry, math/logic term, I'm teaching probability right now).  We have theological guidelines about things like how to prepare ourselves for Mass, liturgical music, and of course on the most serious issues like the Family.  What I'm getting at is that us religious folks have a temptation to be right about everything, and we use our religion as a blunt tool to make it so.  Here's how I see the relationship.  An opinion formed from theology has it in the centre.  The opinion radiates out from it.  It's almost less of an opinion and more of a universally logical conclusion.  The theologized opinion is where the opinion came first, and is wrapped up in the theology.  In other words, we try to mold the teachings of our faith to fit our agenda.  It's something we all do... I certainly do and have.  I like to be right and I like to win arguments.  It's prideful, and it lacks humility.  

Here's why it bothers me.  It waters down the important stuff, and it invalidates our theology.  If my opinion on something (like say what music should be at Mass) can supersede the truths we seek or profess, then the truth is taking a backseat.  It becomes a reason why someone else can just negate the theology along with the opinion because they disagree.  The second reason is I've never seen a theologized opinion used for anything but a personal agenda.  If I can find a theology for why contemporary music of any sort has no place at Mass, and I have a position with a bit of power, I can make sure that any Mass I attend has music I prefer.  Ultimately, I don't like it because it's dishonest.  It's being a pharisee.  It's using our religion as a weapon rather than an instrument of love and mercy, and in my opinion, no theology offered, using religion as a weapon doesn't lead us down roads that take us closer to God.

P.S. - Shout out to Colm Leyne...  You might be a Jerk for Jesus if all your opinions are theologized and you're all to happy to 'share' them with anyone who will (or won't) listen!

Overwhelming Welcome

Karen and I had the pleasure of going to a Ukrainian Catholic Divine Liturgy at St. Stephen Protomartyr in Calgary today.  I've been to Byzantine Rite liturgies in the past, but it was Karen's first time, so I was a bit nervous for the experience (I had very high hope she'd love it as much as I do!).  We met our friend Sharon and her sons in the parking lot.

By the time we made it to the pew we had several new friends!

Sharon went to chat with the Fr. Bo, who was celebrating the liturgy.  He wanted to meet us and so we met him in the offices.  We couldn't help but smile at how joyful and sincerely happy to see us he was.  The greeters came over to us and started a conversation, as they recognized we were outsiders in the community.  On the way to our seats, right at the front, others greeted us.

The beauty of the building itself was also very welcoming.  It was an amazing blend of the simple and inviting, warm wood tones and unobtrusive stained glass, and the beautiful, with about 6 large, and awe inspiring icons in symmetry across the sanctuary.

Children were super welcome.  Fr. Bo made it absolutely known in every action, the way he talked, and the homily he gave that the kids were fully part of the community, and they returned the welcome with sincere and bold interaction with him when he'd ask questions during his homily.

After the Divine Liturgy we were waiting around for a little bit to meet someone, and we ended up meeting a lot of folks we weren't looking for.  A highlight was when a young parishioner made eye contact from across the room as though she recognized us (she did, but as visitors).  When she came over to our likely confused glances she was visibly happy to make our acquaintance.  We stayed for coffee and met some more parishioners (if you know me, you know I'm not good at that sort of thing... I felt totally comfortable there).

One of the biggest things I noticed is that no one ever treated us as guests or visitors, so much as new members of the family.  In fact when introduced by one of the greeters to other folks (the greeter knew we were Roman Catholic, from out of town, and really just on a field trip to a different rite of the Divine Liturgy) he simply said that we were new there.  Not just in town for the day, not visiting, just new.  We were already as fully welcome as everyone who call the parish their home.

In the end there's not a lot of point to this post except to say that I wish everyone of faith, myself included, could be that welcoming to the stranger, and have arms that open to the other.  I'm certainly not the most welcoming person far too much of the time, and I'm definitely shy, not bold, in the way I approach people.  Sometimes we as a Church get caught up in being right, correct, proper, moral, etc., and we forget that none of that matters if we don't have welcoming relationships.  If I'm an unpleasant, judgmental, or rudely blunt in the name of being right, then how can I show someone that my faith is a deep source of joy, or that all are welcome, or that God is Love.  Why would they listen to me?  Even if they did, would they believe my faith is about love and joy when my face, my words, and my actions aren't a reflection of those things?  God forgive us all for the times we deny someone their rightful place at the table, and inspire us all to be joyful and welcoming.