Thoughts on the Emily Litella Catholics and Other Dissenters

Introduction

Back in the 1970s, Gilda Radner played a character on Saturday Night Live called Emily Litella. The premise of her character was she was called to give an opposing opinion to the hot topics of the time. However, she constantly misunderstood the real issue, and went on a tirade about something that had nothing to do with the issue at hand. So, when the topic was “violence on television,” she thought it was about banning violins on television. When the topic was “endangered species,” she went on a rant about endangered feces. [†] Then, when the news anchor (Chevy Chase or Jane Curtin) pointed out that the topic was entirely different, she would conclude with, “Never Mind.”

Those clips were hilarious. Unfortunately, today, we seem to have an unfunny version where a subset of Catholics angrily react to what they think is going on in the Church, denouncing a legitimate application of magisterial authority because they believe their misinterpretation is what the Church intends. Unfortunately, when they are showed their error, they definitely do not respond with “Never Mind.” Usually, they double down instead in insisting the Church is wrong, or else say that any misunderstanding on their part is the fault of the Church.

The Importance of Understanding

The problem is, a subset of Catholics confuse their own understanding and preference on how they think the Church should work is the doctrine of the Church. So, when the Pope and bishops take action which goes against this understanding, they see this as a betrayal of the Church. Now, it is not for me to assess their culpability. Some may have vincible ignorance, putting too much trust in their own knowledge and ideologically oriented sites. Others may have invincible ignorance. That assessment is for God and the individual’s confessor to determine. But regardless of culpability, the fact remains they are wrong about what the issue is, and their anger is misdirected.

What we need to realize is this: It’s not enough to rely on our own personal interpretation. We have to understand what the intended meaning is. If our personal interpretation is not equal to the intended meaning, then we err in our judgment. This isn’t some idealistic, but impossible to keep standard. The Church obliges us to determine the truth before judging another. If we don’t, we commit the sin of Rash Judgment. As the Catechism tells us:

2477 Respect for the reputation of persons forbids every attitude and word likely to cause them unjust injury. He becomes guilty:

— of rash judgment who, even tacitly, assumes as true, without sufficient foundation, the moral fault of a neighbor;

— of detraction who, without objectively valid reason, discloses another’s faults and failings to persons who did not know them;

— of calumny who, by remarks contrary to the truth, harms the reputation of others and gives occasion for false judgments concerning them.

2478 To avoid rash judgment, everyone should be careful to interpret insofar as possible his neighbor’s thoughts, words, and deeds in a favorable way:

Every good Christian ought to be more ready to give a favorable interpretation to another’s statement than to condemn it. But if he cannot do so, let him ask how the other understands it. And if the latter understands it badly, let the former correct him with love. If that does not suffice, let the Christian try all suitable ways to bring the other to a correct interpretation so that he may be saved.
 

 Catholic Church, Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2nd Ed. (Washington, DC: United States Catholic Conference, 2000), 594.

Unfortunately, many people want to ignore it. Look on Facebook or Twitter. How many people seem to be unwilling to give a favorable interpretation? To ask the other how they understand it? To show correction with love? Not too many, it seems. Instead, we see the person who is willing to give a favorable interpretation and objecting to accusations savaged as either supporting error or being willfully blind to it.

The Authority We Must All Reference

Such Catholics make appeal to their own reading of Scripture, statements of the saints, Popes, and councils to judge those they disagree with. The problem is not with treating the words of these as important. The problem is confusing one’s personal reading with what the Church intends to teach. So, where do we go to determine the proper reading? We go to the Magisterium made up of the Pope and the bishops in communion with him. They have the authority to determine how the timeless teachings of the Church must be applied to the current problems of our own time. This is not just limited to the ex cathedra teachings they make. It also applies to the ordinary teaching methods of the Church. As the Catechism says:

889 In order to preserve the Church in the purity of the faith handed on by the apostles, Christ who is the Truth willed to confer on her a share in his own infallibility. By a “supernatural sense of faith” the People of God, under the guidance of the Church’s living Magisterium, “unfailingly adheres to this faith.” (92)

890 The mission of the Magisterium is linked to the definitive nature of the covenant established by God with his people in Christ. It is this Magisterium’s task to preserve God’s people from deviations and defections and to guarantee them the objective possibility of professing the true faith without error. Thus, the pastoral duty of the Magisterium is aimed at seeing to it that the People of God abides in the truth that liberates. To fulfill this service, Christ endowed the Church’s shepherds with the charism of infallibility in matters of faith and morals. The exercise of this charism takes several forms: (851; 1785)

891 “The Roman Pontiff, head of the college of bishops, enjoys this infallibility in virtue of his office, when, as supreme pastor and teacher of all the faithful—who confirms his brethren in the faith—he proclaims by a definitive act a doctrine pertaining to faith or morals.… The infallibility promised to the Church is also present in the body of bishops when, together with Peter’s successor, they exercise the supreme Magisterium,” above all in an Ecumenical Council. When the Church through its supreme Magisterium proposes a doctrine “for belief as being divinely revealed,” and as the teaching of Christ, the definitions “must be adhered to with the obedience of faith.”⁴²⁰ This infallibility extends as far as the deposit of divine Revelation itself.

892 Divine assistance is also given to the successors of the apostles, teaching in communion with the successor of Peter, and, in a particular way, to the bishop of Rome, pastor of the whole Church, when, without arriving at an infallible definition and without pronouncing in a “definitive manner,” they propose in the exercise of the ordinary Magisterium a teaching that leads to better understanding of Revelation in matters of faith and morals. To this ordinary teaching the faithful “are to adhere to it with religious assent” which, though distinct from the assent of faith, is nonetheless an extension of it.
 

Catholic Church, Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2nd Ed. (Washington, DC: United States Catholic Conference, 2000), 235–236.

If we insist on putting our own interpretation first, we are refusing to give the religious assent we are required to give. Whether it is a political liberal refusing assent on abortion and contraception, or the political conservative refusing assent on social justice, both are disobedient. No matter what sort of appeal gets made to refuse assent, this is never justified. As the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith puts it: 

38. Finally, argumentation appealing to the obligation to follow one’s own conscience cannot legitimate dissent. This is true, first of all, because conscience illumines the practical judgment about a decision to make, while here we are concerned with the truth of a doctrinal pronouncement. This is furthermore the case because while the theologian, like every believer, must follow his conscience, he is also obliged to form it. Conscience is not an independent and infallible faculty. It is an act of moral judgement regarding a responsible choice. A right conscience is one duly illumined by faith and by the objective moral law and it presupposes, as well, the uprightness of the will in the pursuit of the true good.
 

The right conscience of the Catholic theologian presumes not only faith in the Word of God whose riches he must explore, but also love for the Church from whom he receives his mission, and respect for her divinely assisted Magisterium. Setting up a supreme magisterium of conscience in opposition to the magisterium of the Church means adopting a principle of free examination incompatible with the economy of Revelation and its transmission in the Church and thus also with a correct understanding of theology and the role of the theologian. The propositions of faith are not the product of mere individual research and free criticism of the Word of God but constitute an ecclesial heritage. If there occur a separation from the Bishops who watch over and keep the apostolic tradition alive, it is the bond with Christ which is irreparably compromised.

 

Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Instruction on the Ecclesial Vocation of the Theologian (Donum Veritatis) (Vatican City: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1990).

Because the Church is given the authority and protection from error from Our Lord, she is the reference to which we must form our beliefs. Because the Pope and bishops are the ones given the authority and protection from error in this current age, we cannot be faithfully Catholic in opposition to them. Individual bishops, and even whole regions can fall into error. Popes can be morally bad, and even privately hold error (but have never publicly taught error). But these facts do not release us from our obligation to obey when the Church teaches.

To argue that one can be a good Catholic while rejecting the Magisterium today shows a dangerous doublethink—holding two contradictory positions at the same time—by pretending that they are faithful because of their dissent. In the past, I’ve seen Catholics argue that supporting abortion rights and same sex “marriage” is closer to being faithful than what the Church teaches. In the present, I see Catholics argue that the rejection of Church teaching on refugees and social justice is being closer to what the Church teaches. The only difference is the political slant of these Catholics. Both downplay their own dissent and point to the dissent of the others. Both are wrong.

Conclusion: Regaining Focus on the True Authority

We have to realize that the Church, under the Pope and bishops today, teaches with authority, and we are bound to obey. When we think the Church has “gone wrong,” our obligation is to investigate where we went wrong. Since Our Lord promised to be with and to protect his Church always, we can be sure the Church is not teaching us error. If we think the Pope is justifying sin or denigrating virtue, we have an obligation to make sure we know both what the Church teaches and what the Pope intends to say. It is those sites who foment disobedience in the name of being “true Catholics” that we must reject, not the Pope.

If we fail to do this, we merely become an unfunny version of Emily Litella—clueless to the last, and unwilling to say, “Never Mind.”

 

____________________________

[†] Unfortunately, due to copyrights, there are no clips available on YouTube. Here’s a transcript of one of her rants:

Emily Litella: What is all this fuss I hear about the Supreme Court’s decision on a DEAF penalty? It’s terrible! Deaf people have enough problems as it is! I know I myself occasionally have difficulty with my hearing—but that doesn’t mean I want to be punished for it! And what do they do to them, anyway? Shout nasty things at them behind their back? You mark my words: If we start punishing deaf people, they’ll get back at us! They’ll close their eyes when we talk to them and they won’t be able to see a thing we’re saying!! I say, instead of making deafness a penalty, we ought to start doing NICE things for them. Like talking louder. [ shouting ] YOU HEAR ME? CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME OUT THERE?
Chevy Chase: I’m sorry, Miss Litella. That’s death penalty. Death penalty.
Emily Litella: [ confused ] What?
Chevy Chase: The editorial was about the Supreme Court’s decision on the death penalty—not deaf penalty. Death penalty.
Emily Litella: Oh. Well, that’s very different.
Chevy Chase: Yes.
Emily Litella: [ she smiles ] Never mind!

Crito and Critics: Thoughts on Who to Listen to Regarding the Church

Over 400 years before the Birth of Christ, the Socratic dialogue known as Crito was written. It involves Socrates in prison. His friend Crito comes to see him to arrange bribing the guards so he can escape prison before his execution. One of the arguments Crito uses is appealing to what others might think if he and his friends don’t free him. Socrates’ response is to ask who should be listened to.

Soc. […] Tell me then, whether I am right in saying that some opinions, and the opinions of some men only, are to be valued, and that other opinions, and the opinions of other men, are not to be valued. I ask you whether I was right in maintaining this?

 

Cr. Certainly.

Soc. The good are to be regarded, and not the bad?

Cr. Yes.

Soc. And the opinions of the wise are good, and the opinions of the unwise are evil?

Cr. Certainly.

Soc. And what was said about another matter? Is the pupil who devotes himself to the practice of gymnastics supposed to attend to the praise and blame and opinion of every man, or of one man only—his physician or trainer, whoever he may be?

Cr. Of one man only.

Soc. And he ought to fear the censure and welcome the praise of that one only, and not of the many?

Cr. Clearly so.

Soc. And he ought to act and train, and eat and drink in the way which seems good to his single master who has understanding, rather than according to the opinion of all other men put together?

Cr. True.

Soc. And if he disobeys and disregards the opinion and approval of the one, and regards the opinion of the many who have no understanding, will he not suffer evil?

Cr. Certainly he will.

Soc. And what will the evil be, whither tending and what affecting, in the disobedient person?

Cr. Clearly, affecting the body; that is what is destroyed by the evil.

Soc. Very good; and is not this true, Crito, of other things which we need not separately enumerate? In questions of just and unjust, fair and foul, good and evil, which are the subjects of our present consultation, ought we to follow the opinion of the many and to fear them; or the opinion of the one man who has understanding? ought we not to fear and reverence him more than all the rest of the world: and if we desert him shall we not destroy and injure that principle in us which may be assumed to be improved by justice and deteriorated by injustice;—there is such a principle?

Cr. Certainly there is, Socrates.

Plato, Crito (47), The Dialogues of Plato, trans. B. Jowett, Third Edition, vol. 2 (New York; London: Oxford University Press, 1892), 147–148.

I think of this when some Catholics, or some outside the Church, try to tell us that our Church teaching and the teachings of our Pope are wrong. Whether it is the dissenter who says Pope Francis and/or Vatican II was wrong, or whether it is the dissenter who tells us that Popes betrayed Vatican II, we have to ask whether these views are wise and good, or foolish and evil. We need to ask where we can find those who have the wisdom and authority to explain what the Church teaching means and how it is applied. We already know the answer to that. As the Catechism tells us:

890 The mission of the Magisterium is linked to the definitive nature of the covenant established by God with his people in Christ. It is this Magisterium’s task to preserve God’s people from deviations and defections and to guarantee them the objective possibility of professing the true faith without error. Thus, the pastoral duty of the Magisterium is aimed at seeing to it that the People of God abides in the truth that liberates. To fulfill this service, Christ endowed the Church’s shepherds with the charism of infallibility in matters of faith and morals. The exercise of this charism takes several forms: (851; 1785)

891 “The Roman Pontiff, head of the college of bishops, enjoys this infallibility in virtue of his office, when, as supreme pastor and teacher of all the faithful—who confirms his brethren in the faith—he proclaims by a definitive act a doctrine pertaining to faith or morals.… The infallibility promised to the Church is also present in the body of bishops when, together with Peter’s successor, they exercise the supreme Magisterium,” above all in an Ecumenical Council. When the Church through its supreme Magisterium proposes a doctrine “for belief as being divinely revealed,” and as the teaching of Christ, the definitions “must be adhered to with the obedience of faith.”⁴²⁰ This infallibility extends as far as the deposit of divine Revelation itself.

892 Divine assistance is also given to the successors of the apostles, teaching in communion with the successor of Peter, and, in a particular way, to the bishop of Rome, pastor of the whole Church, when, without arriving at an infallible definition and without pronouncing in a “definitive manner,” they propose in the exercise of the ordinary Magisterium a teaching that leads to better understanding of Revelation in matters of faith and morals. To this ordinary teaching the faithful “are to adhere to it with religious assent” which, though distinct from the assent of faith, is nonetheless an extension of it. 

Catholic Church, Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2nd Ed. (Washington, DC: United States Catholic Conference, 2000), 235–236.

This means we can identify the foolish and evil views by seeing if they are at odds with the Magisterium, which is headed by the current Pope and the current bishops. Thus, the Catholics who claim the Pope is teaching error and the “Spirit of Vatican II” Catholics cannot hold positions which are wise and good. If we don’t want to suffer evil, we must not listen to those who are at odds with the Magisterium today.

Yet, many people get this backwards. They will listen to bloggers, or to churchmen who offer opinions, while trying to deny the authority of the Magisterium. They rewrite history to imply a handful of past Popes—who were morally bad or were suspected of privately holding error—were “spewing error” and trying to “force” the Church to accept it. In doing so, they undermine the justification for obeying the Church where they happen to agree with her. If these past Popes were like this, and if Pope Francis and Vatican II were like this, then why should we believe the Church was right elsewhere? Likewise, if the “Spirit of Vatican II” Catholics are right about the Church’s past history, why should we give Vatican II any credibility either?

It is only if we recognize that only because of God’s protection that the Church can speak on what is compatible with her timeless teachings that we can accept the Church teaching as binding. But if we recognize God’s protection, we have to recognize that God always protects His Church. And that means we have to obey Pope Francis when he teaches, just as much as we have to listen to his predecessors. We have to accept both Vatican II and the previous Ecumenical Councils. 

Once we realize that, we have to stop listening to those who tell us the Church is in error now, or has been in the past. They are the ones with no understanding.

What We've REALLY Lost

Introduction

I encounter some Catholics who tell me we’ve lost a lot since we stopped using Latin, stopped using ad orientem, stopped using Communion on the tongue, stopped using the 1962 Missal. Other Catholics tell me we’ve lost a lot since Blessed Paul VI, St. John Paul II, and Benedict XVI “betrayed” the Second Vatican Council. Both groups tell me that, to get back on track, the Church needs to recover what they think is important—that the Church fell into error when it went against what they think best.

The problem I have with this is: the arguments seem to be based on the post hoc fallacy. X happened, then Y happened. Therefore X caused Y. But before we can accept that, we have to prove that X caused Y, not accept it as true. If there are other factors that explain Y better than X, It is wrong to blame X. For example, Lateran Council V (1512-1517) preceded the Protestant Revolt. Does that mean Lateran V caused the Reformation? Of course not. The roots of the problem preceded the Council, and would have happened regardless of whether Lateran V happened or not.

What the Problem Isn't

I’m inclined to think that the current crises in the Church have a much broader set of causes that can be traced back at least 70 years, perhaps longer. For example, the horrors caused by totalitarian governments; the numbers of people killed in WWII who might have served the Church in clerical, religious or lay roles; the unusually high numbers of men entering the seminaries after WWII—perhaps some of them not really suited for ordination; the increased efforts among American Catholics to become socially accepted, which sometimes meant downplaying their faith; the development of The Pill, which changed the view of sex to look at fertility as a burden; the growing mistrust of authority in the 1950s (especially after what’s commonly known as “The Red Scare”) and 1960s (Vietnam); the heavy handed attitude some members in the Curia used to deal with new ideas; and so on. While any of these factors alone would not explain the widespread revolt in the Church, combined they do show a problem that was in place long before the Missal of 1970 or even the Second Vatican Council.

I think what really happened was the disruptive factors influenced all sections of life in the West, including the Church. There was a rebellion against all that had been respected and revered, and I think society simply couldn’t adapt to this rejection (I think the movie, Paul VI: The Pope in the Tempest did a good job in capturing this sense of chaos). No doubt, changes in Church discipline were jarring to some people and, combined with the general rebellion going on at the same time, it would have been easy to make that post hoc fallacy. However, I suspect this widespread rejection would have happened whether Vatican II happened or not.

As for the Catholics who claim that Popes after St. John XXIII “betrayed” the Council, it looks more like Catholics who were swept up in the spirit of rebellion sweeping the world were seizing upon selective portions of Church teaching to justify what they wanted to do anyway. The “Spirit of Vatican II” has nothing to do with what the actual documents of Vatican II actually said, after all. Among these Catholics, there was a false belief that the Church could change teachings they didn’t like, wrongly thinking the Church could go from “X is a sin” to “X is not a sin.” When the Church refused to go along, it was labeled “a betrayal,” based on the false assumption that everything was up for grabs.

What the Problem Is

That being said, I think we have lost some things to the detriment of the Church. However, these things are not what critics of the Church think. Rather what we have lost are attitudes found in the saints, but absent among many Catholics today.  When I look at the writings of saints who faced down crises over the centuries, I see men and women who loved Our Lord, Jesus Christ, and loved the Bride of Christ, His Church, living their lives in love and obedience. In doing so, they accomplished many things that spread the faith.

I think we have lost that sense of obedience. The Church has always insisted that when the Pope and bishops in communion with him taught, we were bound to give assent. But in modern times, liberal Catholics reject Humanae Vitae and conservative Catholics reject Laudato Si. False theologies have been developed justifying this rejection, mainly by denying that it is authoritative, but the root is Church teaching goes in a direction Catholics do not want it to go, and think the Church must be making a non-binding (and therefore, error-prone) statement, instead of a binding teaching. It is easier for them to believe that then to believe the possibility that they are living in opposition to God. Of course, both sides are happy to point to the disobedience of the other side, while thinking their own behavior justified.

We’ve also seen a loss of respect for the office of the successors of the Apostles. The Pope is treated disrespectfully, as if respect is only due him when he acts in the way the Church approves. The problem is, obedience and respect to the Church is part of the teaching of Christ, passed on to the Apostles. We can start with John 14:15, where Our Lord tells the disciples that to love Him is to keep His commandments. We can look also at Matthew 7, where Our Lord says:

²¹ “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven. ²² Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name? Did we not drive out demons in your name? Did we not do mighty deeds in your name?’ ²³ Then I will declare to them solemnly, ‘I never knew you. Depart from me, you evildoers.’  (Matthew 7:21–23).

Obedience to His teachings is mandatory. So, when we look at Matthew 16:18-19 and 18:18, we see Our Lord giving authority to His Church, with the promise to protect her, and if we look at Luke 10:16 and Matthew 18:17, we see that Our Lord sees rejecting the teaching of the Church as a rejection of Him. When we consider rejecting a disliked Church teaching, we should consider the consequences.

Conclusion: Turning Back Before It Is Too late

When I look at what shows up on the internet, I see contempt and anger. I see Catholics seem willing to tear down the Church if the Church does not act as they think best. These Catholics claim to be acting to defend the Church, but I don’t see the unconditional love and obedience the saints had.

I think of this every time I see a Catholic calling for a return to the way things were in the past. If we can just go back to the Latin Mass, if we can just return to ad orientem. I think of this every time I see a Catholic calling for the Church to abandon her teachings to bring in more people. I don’t see unconditional love here. I see a case of, “I will only love you if you do as I want.” I don’t doubt they think they are serving the Church like the saints did, but I believe they are misguided. When people tell me that all we need to do is to “go back” to the practices of an earlier era of the Church, or that we need to “move forward” to get with the times, I find myself wondering—perhaps these, and not the current crop of shepherds, that harm the Church.

If we really want to save the Church, perhaps it is time we start by looking into our own hearts and asking how we measure up to what God wants us to be. Do we love God, and entrust His Church to Him? Or are we constantly watching for another Catholic to do something we disagree with, so we can denounce him? The former is the attitude of the saints, and it is the attitude we need to pray for. The latter may result in our damnation if we do not repent.

Do You Not Yet Have Faith?

³⁵ On that day, as evening drew on, he said to them, “Let us cross to the other side.” ³⁶ Leaving the crowd, they took him with them in the boat just as he was. And other boats were with him. ³⁷ A violent squall came up and waves were breaking over the boat, so that it was already filling up. ³⁸ Jesus was in the stern, asleep on a cushion. They woke him and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” ³⁹ He woke up, rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Quiet! Be still!” The wind ceased and there was great calm. ⁴⁰ Then he asked them, “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?” (Mark 4:35–40).

This account of Jesus stilling the waves speaks volumes about our lack of faith in God. The disciples, seeing the storm, believed they were going to die and that Jesus was somehow going to just let them. But his rebuking the wind and sea shows us He certainly has the authority and power that keeps everything under control. He wasn’t going to let the boat sink, even though the disciples feared he might overlook the dangers and forget them.

We might smile at the disciples, but we’re no different. We fear that He will not involve Himself in what frightens us. If pressed, we might deny that we don’t trust Him and are merely concerned with other factors, but when it comes down to it, people are afraid He is going to just let His Church collapse at the hands of those they fear the most. 

Of course, free will means any one of us can act in a way that disrupts the Church. But when God makes a promise, He keeps it. He might not keep it in the way we expect—for example, the first century Jews had ideas about the Messiah that were not what God intended—but He keeps it faithfully. We, on the other hand, have a bad habit of anticipating God to fulfill his promises in a specific way, and if He does not seem to fulfill it in that way, we fear He is not going to fulfill it at all.

I think of that as some Catholics and Catholic periodicals who spent years defending the Faith and the authority of the Church, are suddenly despairing and assuming what they do not understand is the sign of a catastrophe. Because they cannot reconcile their interpretation of Church teaching with the actions of Pope Francis, they assume he must be in error. They invent theologies that can somehow have, at the same time, a “heretical” Pope and a Church protected from error. 

Such Catholics lament that this is the biggest crisis to afflict the Church since the Arian heresy, and wonder what will happen to the faithful (a group that always includes them, and usually excludes those who disagree with them). But I think this is a view that is ignorant of history. The Church has always had to deal with attacks. Whether attacks from persecution, heresy, or corruption, the Church has always needed to withstand and correct. What we forget, however, is the Church has made changes to disciplines without changing her teachings in doing so.

The problem is often one of perception. If one wrongly thinks a changed discipline is a sign of heresy or corruption, that one will no doubt assume the Church is in mortal peril. If one wrongly thinks that the existence of error means the magisterium supports it or is incompetent, they will assume the Church is in mortal peril. Critics thinking this way tend to assume the Church will remain in error until she does things the way they want them done, even though the Church is not in error.

The disciples, traveling on the Sea of Galilee, assumed that being in the company of Jesus meant that they would not experience difficulty. As a result, when things became difficult, they responded in a panic. But God responded in His own time and His own way. We need to recognize Our Lord will do the same for our own troubles. No, this isn’t a call for passivity. We have tasks to do in converting the world. But we shouldn’t think that the problems of the Church means that God forgets His Church and his promises. He protected the Church in the past. He protects the Church now. He will protect the Church in the future. Recognizing this, Our Lord’s question to His disciples remains’s relevant to our own fears: Do you not yet have faith?

Do We Understand? Or Do We Assume?

Introduction

Pope Francis recently issued some words of wisdom about the division of ideology and the loss of respect. These divisions are causing some Catholics to savage others they disagree with. The general assumption is that a disagreement on how one must act is proof that the “other side” is either ignorant or malicious in not choosing the accuser’s view. The buzzwords line up with the person’s ideology, and the accusations assume that the other side embraces the worst positions for the worst reasons.

Assuming the Worst, Without Cause

Human beings, because of their flawed nature, are prone to sin. So it is quite understandable to see people willfully choosing evil, or making morally bad choices with lesser levels of intention. We can’t ignore that. We’re called to reach out to sinners and bring them back to the truth. The problem is, accusers are assuming the fact that there is a disagreement as proof being an enemy of al that is good and decent. But, when one looks at both sides, they are actually making the same arguments, and merely plugging in different buzzwords. A supporter of Trump might assume most or all of those who oppose him must support abortion, Islamic terrorism, and so-called same sex marriage, even if the person accused supports none of them. Likewise, the opponent of Trump might assume most or all who voted for him support racism, fascism, and letting the rich prosper at the expense of the poor.

The problem is, many of these accused Catholics who thought differently on how to vote, or on what the worst evils were, used the same reasoning to reach different conclusions. For example, I’ve seen them agonize over whether they should vote for what they saw as the least offensive choice among the two major candidates, knowing both were bad, or vote for someone else, risking the possibility of the worst choice getting in. In doing so, some of them might have been ignorant of Church teaching, and made bad decisions. Others may have known of and rejected Church teaching. But not all of them did so. The result is, many are rashly judged as holding a position they actually reject.

It doesn’t have to be about Trump either (He’s just, currently, the most controversial issue). Consider the liturgical wars. Some who prefer the way of the 1962 Missal believe all who disagree are heretics. Some who prefer the current Form of the Mass are schismatics. Some are—but not all. Again, those who do not are being rashly judged, accused of directly willing whatever bad effects come.

The Root of the Problem

I think there are two things people don’t ask: What the actual Church teaching permits, and what the person we disagree with actually thinks. If we don’t know both, we risk falsely accusing a person of supporting something he actually rejects. Even if it turns out he does support a wrong position, our accusation is merely a coincidence with no basis behind it.

Knowing what the Church actually teaches on a subject is important, because we have both the actual stated teaching, and the application based on conditions. For example, the Church speaks on the obligation to care for those in need. She does not define how we must vote, or what political platform we must endorse in order to meet that obligation. Provided we don’t try to “play the Pharisee” and evade our obligations under a disguise of piety, we can choose different ways to carry it out. In this case, it would be rash judgment to assume the person who chose a different way, while trying to be faithful, is ignoring Church teaching.

Likewise, when it comes to addressing the issue of sinners in the Church and reconciliation, we need to remember that the clergy need to not only assess the fact that something is intrinsically evil, but assess the intentions and circumstances that leads to our committing these sins. Why does the Church tolerate what we think is horrible? It’s a good question—and maybe we need to investigate, not assuming that our not finding an answer means there is none to be found.

The point is, if we don’t understand the fullness of the Church teaching, or lack of understanding may lead us to see sin where there is none, or vice versa. We may think the Church is too harsh or too lenient, when she is exactly right. We may think others are guilty when they innocent, or think they are innocent when they are guilty.

Our task is not done when we do understand the fullness of Church teaching. We have to also understand what the person holds before we accuse him of acting against it. Take, for example, the case of Pope Francis. If someone studies what he has to say—not the media accounts—you can see how close he is to the teaching of his predecessors. Personally, I found his harshest denunciations of evils in the practice of Capitalism in Evangelii Gaudium sound remarkably similar to the words of Pope Pius XI, or St. John Paul II in Sollicitudo Rei Socialis. I find he is no less firm in opposing the sexual sins than his predecessors. But his critics take snippets of quotes, given without context, and assume he intends to overthrow the Church teaching. But when one reads what he says in context, it is clear that the fault lies with his accusers.

On the other hand, some do get things wrong. They either reject Church teaching, or they wrongly think they are following. We still need to understand their position. Otherwise, how will we correct them? Nobody likes to be accused of holding a position they actually reject. If we falsely accuse them of rejecting Church teaching, or misrepresent their position, we will not show them the right path. Instead we’ll be fighting the wrong battle.

Conclusion

We need to realize that making false accusations against others will not bring about peace and conversion. As Christians, we have an obligation to seek out the truth and act on it. But in these days of instant communication of misinformation, we’ve stopped seeking and started assuming. We assume we can’t go wrong, but others can. And so we calumniate many of them by accusing them of actions and motives they do not hold to. That has to stop. By acting that way, we become self-righteous and we drive others away.

Our Lord had strong words to the Scribes and Pharisees for behaving this way. How much stronger will they be when directed towards us for knowing His teaching, but not living it?

Self-Righteousness or Seeking Righteousness?

Introduction

Some things the Church warns about gets shunted aside in different eras. If we think of them at all, we think of them as something other people do and never scrutinize our own actions. I think one of these issues is the issue of self-righteousness—the belief in one’s own actions and motives are morally superior to their opponents. Those who did not share that position were considered morally wrong, not merely mistaken. Unfortunately, many confuse their own self-righteousness with seeking righteousness, which means seeking out what is right and carrying it out. If we assume our own actions are righteous, while those who disagree with us choose evil; if we never ask whether we are doing wrong, while being certain no good Catholic can think differently than us—those are signs of being self-righteous.

Before I go on, I want to make something clear. I am not speaking in support of moral relativism. Some things simply are incompatible with being a Catholic Christian, and we may never dismiss them or treat them lightly. If a fellow Catholic is in error, he or she does need to be led to the truth. But not all differences are based on the willful disregard of Catholic teaching. Moreover, it is not just “other people” who can be in error. We can be blind to our own faults as well.

A Political Example

What a field-day for the heat
A thousand people in the street
Singing songs and carrying signs
Mostly say, hooray for our side

(Buffalo Springfield, For What It’s Worth)

One of the sadder things I see on social media is the division that still exists among some Catholics over moral decisions made during the election. Since the 2016 elections were arguably the worst choices we’ve had in living memory, Catholics were faced with the unenviable decision of picking one of the unfit candidates from the major parties, or an unelectable candidate from a minor party. Catholics trying to act in good faith made their decision on how to prevent the most damage for the next four years. It’s the kind of thing where afterwards, you expected Catholics to say to each other, “That was a terrible election. I pray our options are better next time.”

But in many cases, that didn’t happen. Some Catholics focussed instead on others who made a different decision on how to best limit evil, assuming they were supporters of the worst evils that came from their choice. So, those who voted for our current president are accused of being responsible for every action he takes that runs counter to Church teaching, regardless of whether the Catholic voter supported it or not (the guilt by association fallacy). Meanwhile, those who voted against him are accused of favoring every evil his main opponent supported. So, every time President Trump does something, we get a flood of posts accusing those who disagreed with the poster of either supporting evils in his proposals as well as counter-posts accusing the first group of supporting evils that would have happened if he hadn’t been elected.

At the same time that this is going on, these factions are congratulating themselves for standing up for the Catholic faith because of the superficial links between their favored party and the Church teaching they happen to feel strongly about, ignoring the parts where their favored party runs against Catholic teaching. I’ve seen Catholics who voted, Democrat, Republican, and Third Party act this way, all castigating the others. In other words, these groups accuse each other of putting politics above the Catholic faith, never considering that both groups used the same arguments to reach different conclusions. 

Non-Political Examples

It’s not only in politics. We can see it in the “all we need to do to save the Church is…” attitudes. Some argue that we all need to return to ad orientem, reception of Communion on the tongue, etc., and if we don’t, we’re ignoring the problem, or even in cahoots with those who rebel. Others say the Church needs to change her attitude towards contraception, divorce/remarriage, woman priests, etc., to prevent the collapse of the Church, and those who disagree are against Christ. The problem is, these solutions are not based on the teaching of the Church, but on what we think the Church should be. Often we elevate a discipline to a doctrine. Often, we try to treat a doctrine like a discipline. But in both cases, we tend to attack the people who disagree with us as ignoring the problem or even being a part of it.

But like the political examples above, people are assuming that different views means being part of the problem, through not caring or about actively willing evil. I think the difference between this and the political examples is we are no longer arguing over the best way to apply Church teaching, but whether Church teaching is to be followed. In this case, we’re not only being self-righteous towards others, but towards the shepherds of the Church. Like so many other things, this isn’t done by a single faction. Whether it is a case of a rigorist Catholic saying the Church has no right to reach out in compassion to sinners, or a laxist Catholic saying the Church has no right to bar Catholics from the Eucharist, these are cases where the self-righteous Catholic is saying they are superior to those tasked with shepherding the Church. Whether it’s a case of accusing the Pope of heresy or of accusing a saint of heresy, this is (among other sins) self-righteousness.

The Risk To Ourselves

The problem is, when we fall into self-righteousness, we forget to consider three things:

1. The fact that we might be wrong in assuming our opponent's error or bad will
2. The fact that we might be wrong in the positions we hold.
3. The fact that we are to show patience and charity to those actually in error.

Let’s face it. If we’re going to call a Catholic who viewed Trump as the least harmful choice, “Anti-abortion but not pro-life,” (or if we call the Catholic who could not vote for Trump in good conscience and voted for a Third Party, “pro-Hillary”), we’re being self-righteous. We overlook the fact the individual might have acted in good will. We overlook the possibility of making an error of our own. And, if the person actually did vote this way for reasons incompatible with Catholic teaching, we are not likely to win them back by behaving self-righteously. But bringing them back is part of the Great Commission.

Here’s a personal example on the third point: When I was in my early 20s, I began to consider the Catholic faith I was raised in seriously. But some of my positions were not compatible with the Catholic faith, and I was struggling with these issues, trying to understand how something I had always thought to be politically bad was morally good. If I had encountered the social media crowd of Catholics who insult and speak abusively towards those who thought differently, I would have probably equated the Catholic faith with their behavior and left it behind, thinking it wrong. I probably would have been morally culpable for the errors I clung to, thinking them right. But I think God would have had something to say, at the Final Judgment, to those who drove me away as well.

Pope Francis, in stressing mercy, remembers what many American Catholics seem to forget—we’re not goalies, trying to keep lesser Catholics out. Nor are we just throwing out the rules and saying, “Anything goes.” What we’re trying to do is reach out to those lost sheep and bringing them back into the fold. That means reconciling them with God. And how can we reconcile people who we drive away? How will we answer God when we, instead of rescuing the lost sheep, pitch it back in the brambles?

It Starts With Ourselves

As i said back in the beginning of the post, I’m not saying we should let people do whatever they want and not worry about it. IF they are in error, we need to guide them back. But if we’re self-righteous, how can we guide them? We need to be guided ourselves. This means we need to turn to God in prayer and study, seeking out how we are called to live, not confusing our preferences with what the Church actually teaches. We need to investigate the actual statements and motives of the person who disagrees with us—not presuming on either. We need to recognize that if we are actually not in error and another is, we are called to be Christlike in reaching out to them.

Escaping self-righteousness in favor of seeking righteousness is hard. For example, I’m constantly struggling with sarcasm when it comes to people I think are wrong and should know better. I struggle with it because I know there’s no spiritual growth, and a lot of spiritual harm there. But the temptation is always there to want to “put wrongdoers in their place” and seeking to do right in such cases is much harder.

But, if we fail to make the attempt, then we are like the Pharisees who opposed Our Lord and judged others, never showing mercy, and never considering our own need for it. Don’t think this is a Conservative problem or a Liberal problem. Don’t consider this a Traditionalist problem or a Modernist problem. This is a problem for any person who will neither consider the possibility of their own error, nor show mercy when they are right.

Thoughts on Difficulty vs. Doubt Regarding the Holy Father

Many persons are very sensitive of the difficulties of religion; I am as sensitive as any one; but I have never been able to see a connexion between apprehending those difficulties, however keenly, and multiplying them to any extent, and doubting the doctrines to which they are attached. Ten thousand difficulties do not make one doubt, as I understand the subject; difficulty and doubt are incommensurate. There of course may be difficulties in the evidence; but I am speaking of difficulties intrinsic to the doctrines, or to their compatibility with each other. A man may be annoyed that he cannot work out a mathematical problem, of which the answer is or is not given to him, without doubting that it admits of an answer, or that a particular answer is the true one. 

 

John Henry Newman, Apologia Pro Vita Sua (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1865), 264–265.

Blessed John Henry Newman spoke of having difficulties with the Church, but that this never led him to doubt. I think his distinction is a good one: We can have difficulties on understanding a Church teaching, the actions of the Church, or the behavior of a churchman without falling into doubt about the authority of those who lead and teach. I have defended St. John Paul II, Benedict XVI, and Francis. But this does not mean I openly praise everything they have done. There are some things I wish they handled differently. But those actions have never led me to doubt that the Holy Spirit guides and protects the Church from teaching error, or to doubt the Church teaching on the authority of Popes.

For example, I wish Saint John Paul II had not elevated certain individuals to bishoprics, I wish he had not kissed that Quran, I wish he had treated Assisi 1986 like a conference. I wish Benedict XVI had not used the example of “a gay prostitute with AIDS” in the Light of the World interview, and had not lifted the excommunications of the SSPX bishops. I wish Pope Francis would put a moratorium on press conferences, and I wish he would address conflicting interpretations of Amoris Lætitia. All of these things led to confusion in the Church. However, these difficulties have never led me to doubt their orthodoxy. Nor have they led me to doubt or explain away their authority when they exercised it differently than I preferred.

I think this is the difference: The person with difficulties may struggle at times when a Pope does something that seems disruptive. But he doesn’t reject the Pope in some degree, or seek to deny his authority at some level. However, the person with doubts does allow himself to do these things. That doesn’t mean the doubting Catholic is a schismatic—though doubt can lead there. But the doubting Catholic thinks the action of the Pope cannot be reconciled with his own understanding of what the Church should be, and seeks a solution to justify setting aside Church teaching or obedience to the Pope.

I think another insight from Blessed John Henry Newman fits here:

I will take one more instance. A man is converted to the Catholic Church from his admiration of its religious system, and his disgust with Protestantism. That admiration remains; but, after a time, he leaves his new faith, perhaps returns to his old. The reason, if we may conjecture, may sometimes be this: he has never believed in the Church’s infallibility; in her doctrinal truth he has believed, but in her infallibility, no. He was asked, before he was received, whether he held all that the Church taught, he replied he did; but he understood the question to mean, whether he held those particular doctrines “which at that time the Church in matter of fact formally taught,” whereas it really meant “whatever the Church then or at any future time should teach.” Thus, he never had the indispensable and elementary faith of a Catholic, and was simply no subject for reception into the fold of the Church. This being the case, when the Immaculate Conception is defined, he feels that it is something more than he bargained for when he became a Catholic, and accordingly he gives up his religious profession. The world will say that he has lost his certitude of the divinity of the Catholic Faith, but he never had it.

 

John Henry Newman, An Essay in Aid of a Grammar of Assent (London: Burns, Oates, & Co., 1870), 240.

I think he makes a good point that goes beyond converts to the Church. The Catholic who recognizes the divinity of the Catholic faith, established by Our Lord and passed on to us by the Apostles, recognizes that it remains the same Church in AD 33, AD 117, AD 1057, AD 1517, and AD 2017. Our understandings of the Faith deepens over time, which can lead the magisterium to make new definitions or change how teachings are best applied to carry out the Great Commission.

I think his point about the Catholic who accepts what the Church teaches up to this point and the Catholic who will accept the authority of the Church whenever she teaches or changes discipline is vital in recognizing the difference between difficulty and doubt: Do we believe that Our Lord, who established the Church and promised to be with her always, continues to do so? Or do we think the problems we have with the Church means the Church has gone wrong to some extent? I think we must recognize that if we reach the point where we think the Church, in exercising her authority, is wrong or can’t be trusted, we have gone from difficulty to doubt about God protecting His Church.

When facing things that trouble us, we have an obligation not to let our difficulty become a doubt. As the Catechism puts it:

2088 The first commandment requires us to nourish and protect our faith with prudence and vigilance, and to reject everything that is opposed to it. There are various ways of sinning against faith: (157)

Voluntary doubt about the faith disregards or refuses to hold as true what God has revealed and the Church proposes for belief. Involuntary doubt refers to hesitation in believing, difficulty in overcoming objections connected with the faith, or also anxiety aroused by its obscurity. If deliberately cultivated doubt can lead to spiritual blindness.

 

Catholic Church, Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2nd Ed. (Washington, DC: United States Catholic Conference, 2000), 506–507.

We’ve had, at this point, 266 Popes. A handful of these have been morally bad. A couple may have privately held error. But despite the existence of bad Popes—and I deny Pope Francis is one—they never taught error. We need to ask ourselves why. Popes like John XII show we can have Popes who care nothing for serving God and the Church. But they didn’t issue any decrees exempting themselves from keeping mistresses or nepotism. How are we supposed to believe that 265 Popes avoided teaching error, but suddenly Pope Francis broke that streak?

Doubts that try to make that argument actually undermine the Church they hope to protect. If one argues Pope Francis is a bad Pope who teaches error, that person will have no reply—without resorting to the Special Pleading fallacy—to the challenge, “How can you say previous Popes did not teach error?” If one argues (and I have encountered some who do), “Francis refused to accept God’s guidance,” then that one has to answer how Benedict IX, John XII, Liberius, Honorius I, etc., managed to accept God’s guidance despite acting wrongly elsewhere. But if God did protect the Church from our acknowledged bad Popes, then the doubter must explain why He chose not to with Francis. It is only when one says, “God always protects the Church from teaching error,” that they can avoid this dilemma.

This is why I have said it is more plausible to believe the Pope’s detractors have it wrong, than it is to believe that the Pope is teaching error. To believe the Pope teaches error, one must doubt Jesus protects the Rock on which He built His Church. That doesn’t mean we won’t have difficulties with what Popes do. There will be gaffes and misunderstood actions. God protecting Popes from teaching error when they use the teaching office doesn’t mean God protects them from sinning or being a bad administrator of the Church. We don’t have to defend the dark spots in the history of the Papal States, or ill-advised concordances. But when the Pope acts in teaching, or administrating the Church, we are bound to give assent (see CIC 747-754). The only way to avoid refusing obedience or fearing the Church can bind us to accept error, is to work to overcome doubts.

We should consider the words of Monsignor Ronald Knox, who pointed out the underlying point that addresses our problems:

Here is another suggestion, which may not be without its value—if you find yourself thus apparently deserted by the light of faith, do not fluster and baffle your imagination by presenting to it all the most difficult doctrines of the Christian religion, those which unbelievers find it easiest to attack; do not be asking yourself, “Can I really believe marriage is indissoluble?  Can I really believe that it is possible to go to hell as the punishment for one mortal sin?"  Keep your attention fixed to the main point, which is a single point – Can I trust the Catholic Church as the final repository of revealed truth?  If you can, all the rest follows; if you cannot, it makes little difference what else you believe or disbelieve.

(In Soft Garments, pages 113-114. Emphasis added).

And that is the ultimate question: Can I trust that the Church is this final repository? Can I trust that God will protect the Church, under the current Pope, from teaching error? If we can, we can trust God to protect the Church with each Pope. But if we doubt these things, the rest which we profess to believe is on shaky ground indeed.