More Than a Building: A Church is Much, Much More

More Than a Building:

Basilica Lewiston Maine
                    Red Mass at the Basilica of St.s Peter and Paul, Lewiston, Maine (https://www.sunjournal.com/)

  Christ is Our Model in All Things  

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God . . . And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us . . . (John 1:1,4)

 

     Any truly Christian anthropology needs to start with the Gospel of John, chapter 1.  The incorporeal Eternal Word, the second Person of the Holy Trinity, takes on human flesh and lives a material existence in the world. In a similar (albeit limited and human way) we are composed not only of flesh and blood, but also an immaterial soul that God has created to last for eternity, for an immeasurable time after our earthly bodies are gone. In this, as in other things, Christ is our model.

     One consequence of our body/soul composition is that we need tangible things to help us grasp abstract or spiritual realities.  That’s why Jesus taught with parables, and with images such as the mustard seed, or salt that has lost its savor.  For the same reason we use spoken prayers, liturgical gestures, sacred music and art, and a whole range of sacramentals.  No doubt Jesus chooses to use Sacraments as a means of bestowing Grace for this reason as well.

     Needless to say, it follows that church buildings are also an important means of communicating, in a nonverbal and non rational way, the truths of the faith.  I touched on this idea in last year’s piece, “Has Tradition become a Dirty Word?” I’m returning today to an article I published a number of years ago.  I discuss these issues in the context of a particular church, the beautiful Basilica of Saints Peter and Paul in Lewiston, Maine.

The Basilica: a Beacon on a Hill

Basilica of St.s Peter and Paul
Basilica of St.s Peter and Paul, Lewiston, Maine (ladphotography.com)

     Many a visitor to the old textile city of Lewiston, Maine, experiences surprise when, driving through a run-down neighborhood of shabby old New England triple-decker tenements, he suddenly finds an enormous and beautiful church looming over him.  This is the Basilica of Saints Peter and Paul, formally consecrated in 1938.

   Its location is not at all as incongruous as it might at first seem. It was the most natural thing in the world for the inhabitants of those cheap apartment houses to put all their extra money and effort into building the most magnificent church possible. At the time, the parishioners were mostly French Canadian immigrants who had come to Lewiston to work in the dark red-brick mills that lined the Androscoggin River.

     And yes, it was those poor laborers, not wealthy benefactors or (Heaven forbid) government grants, that built the Basilica.   “Religion is the opiate of the people” is not the least foolish of the foolish things Karl Marx said.  Opiates deaden the soul and weigh down the limbs: nobody pushes themselves to the limit to build monuments to those.  No, the Faith these humble workers brought with them from Quebec didn’t numb them into acquiescence, it gave them real assurance that they had something worth working toward: admittance to the presence of the living God.

 More Than a Building: Enormous Sacramentals 

     And so naturally it was a Church that they chose as the focus of their devotion.  Churches are much more than just buildings.  They are enormous sacramentals, consecrated objects that can help connect us to the Grace of a God who is pure Spirit. Churches are iconic representations that teach us at an unconscious level about an ordered Universe with God at the apex . . . or at least they used to be.  They are also places closely connected to some of the deepest experiences of our lives, such as baptisms, weddings and funerals.  Finally, they are places that gather communities together.  Sometimes families and communities build these connections over many generations.  That’s why the closing of a church is so much more traumatic than the closing of a movie theater, for instance, or a department store.  The local church is, for most people, their concrete connection to transcendent realities.

TLM Lewiston Basilica
                    Current Portland Bishop Robert Deeley (far right) attends a Traditional Latin Mass at the Basilica (https://latinmassme.com/)

     The Basilica of Peter and Paul, fortunately, is still going strong. It no longer draws its community, however, mostly from the immediate neighborhood.  People have come from miles away to attend Mass in the Extraordinary Form every Sunday since 2008.  That’s when then-Bishop Richard Malone designated it as one of two churches (the other being the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception in Portland) to host a new Latin Mass Chaplaincy.  There is also a Mass in the Ordinary Form celebrated with a reverence that draws worshipers from a wide area, and a French language Mass that is very well attended by French speakers from all over southern Maine.   Many other churches, to the great sorrow of parishioners who have been orphaned, have not been so lucky.

 The New, New Evangelization 

     It’s in that connection that this post on Fr. Z’s blog (here), about parishioners in Buffalo who have enlisted the Vatican’s help in their attempts to keep their parish open, first caught my eye.  Buffalo Bishop Richard Malone is the same man who, as Bishop of Portland, helped keep the Basilica thriving. Here, he comes off as the Bad Guy of the piece.*  As it happens, Bishop Malone also oversaw the closing of many parishes in Maine, a practice he seems to have continued in Buffalo. Unfortunately, that appears to be one of the first lessons they teach in Bishop School these days. In any case, Fr. Z’s post made me wonder.  Would it have made a difference if some of those other parishes had thought to appeal to the Pope?

     There are bigger questions, of course.  Fr. Z asks:

What sort of faith in an effort of “New Evangelization” do we evince if, while chattering about it, we are closing the churches we need to fill in the very places where the “New Evangelization” needs to be pursued?

 More Like Evangelists 

Saints Peter and Paul Basilica towers over Lewiston, ME. Franco Center (formerly St. Mary’s Church) in foreground. (photo http://www.danmarquisphotography.com/)

     That’s a good point.  Today, all those triple-deckers around the Basilica in Lewiston still overflow with people.  The difference is, they are no longer (mostly) people who actually attend the church that dominates their neighborhood. We can say the same of many churches we are decommissioning.  The populations around them are (mostly) as large as when the churches boasted full congregations every Sunday. The difference is, they aren’t making up for the shortfall with people from further afield. And, yes, bishops and their staffs around the country should certainly learn to think more like Evangelists and less like Administrators.  We lay Catholics, also, (and I include myself) need to do our part. What more we can do to invite all those people on the outside into the Church? If earlier generations with fewer resources but great faith could build the basilicas, could we not at least put enough people in the pews?

 

*A few years later, sorry to say, Bishop Malone’s tenure in Buffalo ended very badly indeed.  Happily, that’s beyond the scope of this discussion.

The Lorica of St. Patrick Is As Timely As Ever

The Lorica of St. Patrick

St. Patrick Window
                    Window in St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Armagh

Christ with me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,
Christ in me,
Christ beneath me,
Christ above me,
Christ on my right,
Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down,
Christ when I sit down,
Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.

As Timely As Ever:

Pious Tradition v. The “Experts”


   Pious tradition attributes authorship of the prayer above, known as “The Lorica (or “Breastplate”) of St. Patrick”, to the Apostle of Ireland himself.  As is the case with the beloved “Prayer of St. Francis”, experts tell us the eponymous Saint is most likely not the real author.  I myself trust Pious Tradition more than The Experts any day, but for our purposes here we’ll just say that it could have been written by St. Patrick.  In any case, while the prayer as you see it above is the most well-known version, it is really only a part of a much longer composition (I’ve put the full text at the bottom of this post).  At one time this magnificent prayer, in its complete form, was a part of my morning devotions every day.
     “The Breastplate of St. Patrick” is, in fact, written as a morning prayer, and more: it is a statement of faith, a brief but comprehensive catechesis, and a call for Divine help against the dangers that beset us from both earthly and spiritual sources.  Those things are as necessary today as they were in 5th century Ireland, and St. Patrick’s prayer is a powerful and inspiring way to start our daily journey.

“I Arise Today . . .”

     The complete “Breastplate” opens with “I arise today/Through a mighty strength, the invocation of Trinity . . .” St. Patrick is famous for his emphasis on the Trinity, reportedly using the tree-leafed shamrock to illustrate the doctrine (as memorialized in the present-day stained glass window from the cathedral in Armagh, his primatial see).  Here, he also emphasizes “the Oneness of the Creator of creation.”  In converting a pagan people, Patrick needed to impress upon them that there was indeed only one God, as distinct from their pagan pantheon, although expressed in three Persons.  The Triune God is also unlike their familiar gods in that He alone is the universal Creator, as opposed to pagan deities who were more powerful than mortal men, but still finite and fallible beings. In our own day we also need to be reminded that God is Love (1 John 4:8), and Love reaches its perfection in a union of persons, but also that God the Creator is master of all the blind forces of nature with which we wrestle.

                    St. Patrick Lighting the Paschal Fire on the Hill of Slane, 433, by Vincenzo Waldre, 1792


     The next “I arise today . . .” is followed by a brief Christology: incarnation, crucifixion, resurrection and descent to the Dead. We, no less than our newly-christened forefathers did, need to understand exactly Who and What is the God that we follow.
     A third “I arise today . . . .” is followed by a litany of various Angels, Patriarchs, Prophets, and Saints, which re-establishes for us that our devotion to the Person of Jesus Christ also connects us to all the lesser persons, living and dead, in the Communion of Saints.
     Next, “I arise today/Through strength of heaven,/the light of the sun . . .” and so on, through a list of natural forces which, St. Patrick here reminds us, come below us in the order of creation, and are so much the more under God’s power (how often we moderns forget both of these truths!).

God’s Providential Care


     After a fifth “I arise today . . .” we see a litany of the various manifestations of God’s Providential care:

     God’s strength to pilot me,
     God’s might to uphold me,
     God’s wisdom to guide me . . .

And so on. At the end of this section we shift our focus to the various evils that beset us:

     God’s host to save me
     From snares of devils,
     From temptation of vices,
     From everyone who shall wish me ill,
     Afar and near.

    In the next section we call for God’s help against these evils, which are laid out in more detail:

     I summon today
     All these powers between me and those evils,
     Against every cruel and merciless power
     That may oppose my body and soul,
     Against incantations of false prophets,
     Against black laws of pagandom,
     Against false laws of heretics,
     Against craft of idolatry,
     Against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,
     Against every knowledge that corrupts man’s body and soul.
     Christ shield me today
     Against poison, against burning,
     Against drowning, against wounding,
     So that there may come to me
     an abundance of reward.

Notice the priority given to spiritual evils, which Christians have traditionally understood to be far more serious dangers than the physical hazards at the end of the passage. Today we often ignore or even deride these deadly perils (as I discuss in my post “For Such a Time as This: Powers, Principalities & The Culture Wars“).

The Lorica


     At this point we come to the famous passage quoted at the top of this post (Christ with me,Christ before me, Christ behind me . . .), from which the prayer takes its name. Here we call upon Christ to surround us, to “armor” us, with his protection.
     Finally, the prayer ends by repeating the invocation with which it starts:

     I arise today,
     Through a mighty strength,
     The invocation of the Trinity,
     Through belief in the Threeness,
     Through confession of the Oneness
     Of the Creator of creation.


     As I read through this prayer, which was composed for ancient pagans who knew nothing of Christianity, I am struck by how well it is suited to our current post-Christian, neo-pagan culture. We shouldn’t kid ourselves.  Even with all the amazing gadgetry that we’ve concocted for ourselves over the centuries, we’re still subject to the same basic temptations and hazards that have always haunted humanity. We still could use the breastplate of Christ.

(See also “St. Patrick, Julius Caesar, and Slavery to Sin“)

Here’s a beautiful setting for St. Patrick’s prayer by contemporary composer Ola Gjeilo:

The Breastplate of St. Patrick:

I arise today

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness
of the Creator of creation.

I arise today
Through the strength of Christ’s birth with His baptism,
Through the strength of His crucifixion with His burial,
Through the strength of His resurrection with His ascension,
Through the strength of His descent for the judgment of doom.

I arise today
Through the strength of the love of cherubim,
In the obedience of angels, In the service of archangels,
In the hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In the prayers of patriarchs,
In the predictions of prophets,
In the preaching of apostles, In the faith of confessors,
In the innocence of holy virgins,
In the deeds of righteous men.

I arise today through
The strength of heaven,
The light of the sun,
The radiance of the moon,
The splendor of fire,
The speed of lightning,
The swiftness of wind,
The depth of the sea,
The stability of the earth,
The firmness of rock.

I arise today through
God’s strength to pilot me,
God’s might to uphold me,
God’s wisdom to guide me,
God’s eye to look before me,
God’s ear to hear me,
God’s word to speak for me,
God’s hand to guard me,
God’s shield to protect me,
God’s host to save me
From snares of devils,
From temptation of vices,
From everyone who shall wish me ill,
afar and near.

God’s Providence

I summon today
All these powers between me and those evils,
Against every cruel and merciless power
that may oppose my body and soul,
Against incantations of false prophets,
Against black laws of pagandom,
Against false laws of heretics,
Against craft of idolatry,
Against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,
Against every knowledge that corrupts man’s body and soul.

The Lorica

Christ shield me today
Against poison, against burning,
Against drowning, against wounding,
So that there may come to me
an abundance of reward.

Christ with me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,
Christ in me,
Christ beneath me,
Christ above me,
Christ on my right,
Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down,
Christ when I sit down,
Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness
of the Creator of creation.

St. Patrick baptizing Irish king

Random Selection Favors Religion, or, What Would Darwin Do?

I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse; therefore choose life, that you and your descendants may live. (Deuteronomy 30:19)

Spes in Domino
               The Marriage, by Pietro Longhi, c. 1755

An Angry God

Random selection appears to have doomed its most enthusiastic promoters to extinction.

     I want to be clear that I am not taking issue in this post with the theory of evolution per se, or even with Darwin’s specific take on it in particular. Just as there is a “Spirit of Vatican II” that doesn’t concern itself overmuch with what the Second Vatican Council actually decreed, there is a Spirit of Darwinian Evolution that invokes evolutionary theory as a sort of charm that wards off the need for a Creator, but doesn’t feel the need to explain how. It’s that totemic use of evolution, with a quasi-mythical Darwin as its high priest, that I’m referring to here.  My whole point, in fact, is that if materialist atheists were actually to apply evolutionary theory to themselves, they would have to admit that unbelieving humanity is doomed.

Charles Darwin: Prophet of an angry god

   Let’s start with atheism itself. Atheism and the related materialist philosophy are often described as religions, or as quasi-religions.  There’s something to that.  For unbelievers, a dogmatic adherence to the tenets of their ideology often seems to play the role that religion and devotion to God fulfills in other people’s lives.  It certainly is the case that many of those who reject religious belief treat Darwinian evolutionary theory with almost religious awe, and have turned the man himself into something of a god (Darwin Fish, anyone?), or at least a prophet.  If he is a prophet, however, he’s a prophet in the mold of the mythological Greek prophetess Cassandra, whose prophecies were never believed.  The evidence is pretty clear: random selection likes religion, but is not a fan of atheism.
     Before I look into the matter more directly, I should provide a little context. In my years teaching in Catholic schools I often engaged in dialogue with young unbelievers who were enamored of proselytizing atheists like Richard Dawkins and Sam Harris (if a messenger of good news is an evangelist, what’s the messenger of bad news? A cacangelist? Just a thought.).  In the course of these discussions, I came to an interesting realization: in Darwinian terms, atheism is a negative trait.  In strictly materialist terms, that is, based on the clear, straightforward evidence, if we all became atheists, humanity would cease to exist in short order.

Believe the Science


      I soon discovered that I was not at all the first person to come to this conclusion: I found a report on a site called Scilogs* about the work of German researcher Michael Blume, who says that

It is a great irony but evolution appears to discriminate against atheists and favor those with religious beliefs . . . Most societies or communities that have espoused atheistic beliefs have not survived more than a century.

     Blume’s research shows that not just atheist societies, but unbelieving individuals consistently undermine their own posterity:

Blume took data from 82 countries measuring frequency of worship against the number of children.  He found that those who worship more than once a week average 2.5 children [2.1 children per woman is the “replacement rate”, the minimum necessary to maintain a population at its current level] while those who never worship only 1.7 – again below replacement rate.  There was also considerable variation in religious groups . . . Those without a religion, however, consistently averaged less than two per woman below the replacement , whereas those with the strongest and most fundamental religious beliefs had the most children.

Other researchers come to similar conclusions, and not only on the replacement of populations.  On the most basic level, their own individual existence, unbelievers fall short of believers: statistically, those who are actively religious live four years longer.

Viruses of the Mind

What would Charles Darwin say?  It would appear that Evolution is an angry and capricious god indeed, as it has clearly selected its most ardent adherents for extinction.

Endangered species?

    The curious hostility of the process of evolution to the materialist worldview casts a bright light on a contradiction that lies at the heart of the project of atheist proselytization: even if you believe it, why would you want to convince other people? The Dawkinses of the world will reply, as the Blume post says, “that religions are like viruses of the mind which infect people and impose great costs in terms of money, time and health risks.”  This, it seems to me, actually defies reason:  as I ask my unbelieving interlocutors, is it logical to conclude that a world populated by those who think we are nothing but matter created by meaningless, random natural forces will be a better, kinder place than a world that is the home of people who believe we have been created intentionally by a loving God? Can we reasonably expect that those who believe that we are answerable to nobody and morality is just a social construct will be more loving and generous than men and women who are convinced that we have been commanded by a benevolent Creator to love one another?  It just doesn’t make sense.

God is Love (1 John 4:8)

    And not surprisingly, the empirical evidence agrees.  In addition to the demographic data above, anyone who has studied the history of Rome before and after the Christianization of the Empire, can attest to the humanizing effect of Christianity, and that it was that same Christian Church that civilized the barbarians who eventually overwhelmed the Roman state.  Modern day sociological evidence shows the same thing: religious believers (especially Christians) report higher levels of personal happiness (see here, for instance), are more likely to join community and voluntary associations (even non-religious ones), and are more likely to vote. As is the case with the data cited by Blume, the more devout the believer, the stronger the effect.  Arthur C. Brooks copiously documents the same results with a wealth of statistical evidence in his book Who Really Cares: believing Christians are much more involved in donating their time and talents for building up their societies, and are much more willing to spare their personal wealth to help others.   The Catholic Church alone has founded and runs thousands of hospitals, schools, and countless other charitable projects around the world. Is there any organization founded or run by atheists that even comes close? I submit that the reasonable view is the one that fits the evidence, not the one that contradicts both the empirical data and common sense.

     A final point involves getting beyond narrow materialist ideas of what constitutes reason and taking a more expansive (and more traditional) view.  Is The Truth about humanity more likely to be something that diminishes humanity, that tears down our societies, makes our lives meaner, and maybe even leads to our annihilation?  Or does it lift us up, does it promote flourishing societies and happy productive people?  Jesus Christ says “I am The Way, The Truth, and The Life” (John 14:6): doesn’t the evidence bear him out?

 

*The article to which I refer has since been removed.  You can find the same information, and more, on Blume’s own website: http://www.blume-religionswissenschaft.de/english/index_english.html

Evangelism, Free Will, and the Spiritual Works of Mercy

St. Paul in the Areopagus by Mariano Fortuny (1855-1856)

   We live in strange times.  Never in human history has it been possible for so many people to live lives so disconnected from reality. Former Nuncio to the United States Archbishop Carlo Vigano has just released a remarkable meditation for Lent which touches on that issue.  He starts with a prayer from the Ambrosian Missal, which says in part:

Venite flentes, fundamus lacrymas ad Deum:
quia nos negleximus, et propter nos terra patitur:
nos iniquitatem fecimus,
et propter nos fundamenta commota sunt.
Festinemus anteire ante iram Dei . . .

Come weeping, let us shed tears to God: because we have transgressed, and because of us the earth suffers: we have committed iniquity and because of us its foundations have been shaken. Let us hasten to prevent God’s wrath . . .

Archbishop Vigano (ncronline.com photo)

“It is difficult for a man of today,” Archbishop Vigano remarks, “to understand these words of the Ambrosian Missal.” The idea that we owe any obedience to anything outside of our own will and desires has become foreign to us. The understanding that justice demands that we submit ourselves to God’s judgment is particularly difficult:

     The de-Christianized world and the secularized mentality that has infected even Catholics does not accept the idea of a God offended by the sins of men, and Who punishes them with scourges so that they repent and ask for forgiveness.

     We can see the mentality that Archbishop Vigano is describing everywhere today, even, as he says, in the Church. Not only is it a problem everywhere, it is a problem that undermines everything.  When we reject the truth of our relationship with God, we undermine the very concept of truth itself.  As St. Paul tells the Ephesians:

Now this I affirm and testify in the Lord, that you must no longer live as the Gentiles do, in the futility of their minds; they are darkened in their understanding, alienated from the life of God because of the ignorance that is in them, due to their hardness of heart;  they have become callous and have given themselves up to licentiousness, greedy to practice every kind of uncleanness. (Ephesians 4:17-29)

     This “darkening of the understanding” makes it very difficult to carry on any sort of reasoned discussion on matters of importance.  When all that matters are feelings and desires, when disgreement (at least, disagreement with favored positions or practices) is ipso facto “hate,” real dialogue is impossible.

      This curious state of affairs complicates the efforts at evangelization in various ways. For instance, a few years ago when I was the moderator of an online community a young non-Catholic Christian suggested that sharing the Gospel with other people and praying for them was impeding their free will.  Now, it would never have occurred to me that informing or attempting to persuade somebody, much less praying for them, somehow interfered with their ability to make free choices; on the contrary, without free will, such efforts are pointless. Nonetheless, I had heard similar questions from other young people as well. Most young people today (and many older ones as well) have been formed in a popular culture that teaches that simply disagreeing with somebody can be a “microaggression”, particularly if the alleged microaggressor holds more traditional views, and most especially if those views can be traced back to orthodox Christian morality.  How should we respond to this situation?

     The first thing, I think, is to stress that evangelization and prayers for conversion are an act of mercy. How? Since we are all ultimately held accountable for the things that we do with our free will, we try to save others from the consequences of bad decisions, which is to say, sin. It is, of course, merciful to save another person from sin (and, potentially, from eternal damnation). More specifically, I think we can profitably look at this question in terms of several of the traditional Spiritual Works of Mercy.

     Let’s start with free will itself. Even though our will is free, that doesn’t mean that it isn’t influenced by many things.  Not only that, we can’t make good choices if we’re missing essential information.  Let us suppose, for instance, that a friend is about to dive into a lake that has just been declared unsafe due to high levels of harmful bacteria. Informing him of the danger doesn’t violate his free will; in fact, it allows him to make a truly free choice, because it’s based on the truth, and not on a false belief that the water is safe. If it’s merciful to protect a friend from getting sick in this way, how much more so if we can give him information that can save his soul for eternity? This is the 2nd Spiritual Work of Mercy, “Instructing the Ignorant” (“ignorant” isn’t meant as an insult; it simply means someone who doesn’t know).

7th Spiritual Work of Mercy: Praying for the Living and the Dead (CNS photo/Jim West)

   We sometimes have the right information, but we may also have disordered desires (that is, attraction to sin) that lead us to do things that we know are wrong. Disordered desires such as greed, lust, envy, etc., pull our will away from what we know is right. Consequently, it often happens that a Christian who knows full well that a particular act, adultery for instance, is seriously wrong, follows his or her desires instead.  The consequences can be disastrous for such a person and for others involved in his sin.  It is merciful to point out these abuses of our will to each other, because in doing so we can sometimes bring a sinner back to right conduct. As an added bonus, we help ourselves as well, as Holy Scripture tells us:

My brethren, if any one among you wanders from the truth and some one brings him back, let him know that whoever brings back a sinner from the error of his way will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins. (James 5:19-20)

This is the 3rd Spiritual Work of Mercy, “Admonishing Sinners” (and we are all sinners who sometimes require admonition).

    In the end, of course, none of us exercises our free will perfectly, and none of us can save ourselves: that’s why we needed Christ to die on the Cross for us.  For that reason we “Pray for the Living and the Dead” (the 7th Spiritual Work of Mercy). When we pray for the living, we are asking God not to override their free will, but to give them the Grace (His help and support) to freely use their will in accord with His Will, and not according to their disordered desires. We also pray for the dead in Purgatory who are being cleansed of the consequences of the misuse of their free will, that God’s mercy might ease their passage into His Presence.

     We hear a lot less about the Spiritual Works of Mercy these days than we do about the Corporal Works of Mercy (a reflection of materialist tendencies affecting even the Church).  That’s a shame, because in the midst of the greatest material prosperity that this world has ever seen we have a vast sea of spiritual suffering. The world is full of people, including me and you, whose choices are hampered by ignorance, whose desires are disordered, and who are desperately in need of prayers. Answering their needs isn’t an imposition: it’s an act of mercy.

Catching Flies With Honey: St. Mellitus of Canterbury

There’s an old saying that you catch more flies with a spoonful of honey than you do with a vat of vinegar. That old saw is well illustrated when considering the life of a Saint whom we remember this weekend, St. Mellitus of Canterbury (died April 24th, A.D. 624).  His name, in fact, means “honeyed”.  In his mission to convert the Saxon conquerers of Britain in the 7th century (he was sent by Pope Gregory the Great to assist St. Augustine of Canterbury) we find an example of the Church explicitly choosing to put the “Honey Strategy” into practice.

St. Mellitus of Canterbury

    But first, we need a little background on Saint Mellitus.  Despite being little-known today, he was in fact a very consequential saint. Mellitus first arrived in Britain in the year A.D. 601, bringing with him books and other things considered necessary for Christian instruction and worship.  St. Augustine of Canterbury (the Apostle to the English, not to be confused with Doctor of the Church St. Augustine of Hippo) consecrated him Bishop of London, which at that time was the capital of the East Saxon kingdom.  Somewhere around the years 616-618 the Christian East Saxon king died, after which the new king drove Mellitus from his episcopal see in London.  Shortly thereafter the Christian king of Kent died as well, and Mellitus was forced to flee from Britain all together. He was able to return a few years later after Laurence, Augustine’s successor as Archbishop of Canterbury, had converted the new Kentish king.  Mellitus never returned to London, which would not see a Bishop again until 654, thirty years after the Saint’s death.  St. Mellitus himself became Archbishop of Canterbury at the Death of Laurence in 619, and occupied the see until his own passing five years later.  He is credited with miraculously saving his church from a fire shortly before his death.

     St. Mellitus played an important part in the conversion of the English ; in this capacity he received instructions in the form of a letter from the Pope, called the Epistola ad Mellitum. In this letter St. Gregory urges Mellitus and Augustine to rely on persuasion in converting the pagan English, destroying idols but consecrating the temples that housed the idols for use as churches, and adopting familiar things to Christian uses so that the English nation might “set aside error from her heart, and, acknowledging and adoring the True God, might assemble more familiarly at the places which she was was accustomed (to use).”  This letter is a particularly explicit statement of an approach that has been more or less the rule (albeit with some notable exceptions) for most of the history of the Church.  And it fits well with the way our Lord works: God breathed life into the mud of the earth to create Adam, and through baptism he makes former non-believers into his adopted sons and daughters; why can’t his Church in the same way “baptize” what is good in pagan societies and consecrate it for use in His service?

St. Mellitus wasn’t successful at first (expelled not just by one but by two kings, from two kingdoms), but in the end love and persistence paid off.


     The story of St. Mellitus and his “honeyed” approach has a lesson for us today as we go about our own mission of evangelization.  We can become frustrated when it seems that nobody is listening; we may find ourselves brimming over with vinegar, as it were.  Perhaps if we stay calm, listen patiently, and try to focus on the love of Jesus (in other words, spread a little honey), we’re more likely to have a fruitful exchange. Notice that St. Mellitus wasn’t successful at first (expelled not just by one but by two kings, from two kingdoms), but in the end love and persistence paid off.  St. Mellitus, pray for us, that we might avoid the bitterness of our own pride, and to speak with the sweetness of Divine Love. Amen.

Welcome to Mission Territory

When a man stops believing in God he doesn’t then believe in nothing, he believes anything.”

     You have probably run across the quote above, usually attributed to G.K. Chesterton.  While Chesterton never actually said it in quite those words, it does appear that he really did express this sentiment in a somewhat different form in several places (for more information, see this discussion on the website of The Apostolate of Common Sense).  More to the point, the events of the recent past have shown this observation by the  “The Prince of Paradox” to be tragically on target.

G. K. Chesterton

     In that regard, allow me to direct your attention to some other quotes (albeit somewhat less witty) that you have probably run across.  In the run up to last year’s election yard signs started popping up with a rainbow colored litany that ran something like this:

science is real

black lives matter

no human is illegal

love is love

women’s rights are human rights

kindness is everything

     The interesting thing is that, not only do none of these statements mean what they appear to mean, not a single one of them is even intended to mean what it appears to mean.  “Science is real”, for example, is declaration that if you disagree with a certain global climate theory, however much you ground your argument in data and scientific reasoning, you’ll be branded a “science denier” (and don’t you dare even bring up the lack of any scientific basis at all for the current vogue for genderism or other current enthusiasms).  “Love is love” means that intrinsically sterile homosexual relationships are exactly the same as the generative relationships between men and women. “Women’s rights are human rights” refers to the “right” of grown women to kill their unborn babies (including unborn women) if they find it convenient.  And of course, “kindness is everything” means that if you disagree with any of the above you are ipso facto a “hater”, and kinder folks have every right (indeed, the responsibility) to destroy your reputation and your livelihood.

     Again, don’t expect any effort to explain or justify the statements above: they’re not intended to form any sort of coherent argument; they’re not even intended as a coherent political program, although they are very much intended as a political statement.  The litany above is in fact a religious Creed, a statement of adherence to a political religion, the apotheosis of pure Will in the form of Government Power.

     So, what’s the connection between the Kindness Creed and the quote attributed to Chesterton? Let’s go back to the first clause of the initial quote: “When a man stops believing in God . . .” If you doubt that we in the United States no longer believe in God, consider the report just released by the Gallup organization: for the first time in American history, a majority do not formally belong to any religious body. In 2020 the figure had declined to 47%:

When we look at the generational breakdown, we can see that each successive generation is less religious than its predecessors.  This is not simply a matter of people becoming more religious as they age; in fact, the trend lines move in the other direction: every group actually becomes less religious over time, including those born before 1946.  The big story that the chart below shows is that, as decade follows decade, proportionally fewer Americans have any experience of religion at all:

     Now, people can believe in God, and even identify with a particular religious group, without the benefit of formal membership.  The Gallup report indicates that there are in fact a fairly sizable number of people who fall into this category:

The U.S. remains a religious nation, with more than seven in 10 affiliating with some type of organized religion.

. . . but there’s a big “however” coming:

However, far fewer, now less than half, have a formal membership with a specific house of worship. While it is possible that part of the decline seen in 2020 was temporary and related to the coronavirus pandemic, continued decline in future decades seems inevitable, given the much lower levels of religiosity and church membership among younger versus older generations of adults.

     I would take it a little further.  While it is certainly conceivable that someone could have a strong and meaningful faith in God without belonging to a church (or synagogue, mosque, etc.), joining with other believers in worship of God is the primary way in which that faith becomes a reality in our lives, rather than just an abstraction. People who never attend church are unlikely to have any experience of religion in their lives, and are correspondingly unlikely to be influenced by religious moral teachings and values.  

    In other words, the change noted in the graphs above is of enormous significance.  A generation or two ago the accepted wisdom of our society was taken directly from Christianity.  This is not to say that everyone lived perfectly in accord with Christian teachings, but that everybody’s attitudes and expectations were shaped by those teachings, even among the non-religious.  That is no longer the case, and we can see the results in, for instance, radically changed attitudes toward marriage, sexual morality, and so on. Christian morality used to be the default; no longer.

     What’s true of morality is true in other areas as well.  Fifteen years ago Arthur C. Brooks published a book called Who Really Cares, in which he explored in meticulous detail all the statistical data that demonstrated, contrary to popular impressions, that political conservatives give more time and money (a lot more) to charity than do liberals. Among the various factors that Brooks examined, one of the most prominent was the fact that statistics show that religious belief is a large determinant in personal charity.  Believers are much more charitable than non-believers, and so religious liberals, for example, give more of their time and treasure than non-religious conservatives do. The main reason why conservatives over all were more generous fifteen years ago when Brooks published his book is that religious liberals made up only 7% of the population. Conservatives were then and are now more generous givers largely because conservatives are much more religious.

     Or were.  Conservatives are still quite a bit more religious than liberals, but the data from Gallup cited above indicates that, along with everyone else, they are less religious than they used to be, and will be even less religious in the years to come. Expect less charity in our society, and more government.

“At the heart of liberty is the right to define one’s own concept of existence, of meaning, of the universe, and of the mystery of human life.”

-Justice Anthony Kennedy, Planned Parenthood v. Casey

  

   Which brings us to the second half of the Chestertonian paradox: “. . . he believes anything.”  The problem goes beyond charity and personal morality. We should expect all sorts of craziness to manifest itself in the years to come. That’s the significance of the Kindness Is Everything Litany.  When a critical mass of the population is no longer constrained by a belief in a Transcendent God, what is left to limit the human will? U. S. Supreme Court Justice Anthony Kennedy, in a moment of unintentional self-parody, authored the most famous formulation of the Creed of the Unconstrained Will in the 1992 Planned Parenthood v. Casey decision: “At the heart of liberty is the right to define one’s own concept of existence, of meaning, of the universe, and of the mystery of human life.”  This quasi-mystical piece of fantasy (derisively called the “Sweet Mystery of Life Passage” by Justice Antonin Scalia) is now the closest thing we have to a dominant political philosophy in the West.  

     Politics can’t fix this. That’s not to say there isn’t an important role for politics in mitigating the damage: just this past week another Supreme Court Justice, Clarence Thomas, suggested in a concurrence that the protections our increasingly totalitarian big tech companies currently enjoy might be up for legal challenge.  We should take him up on that.  As I previously explained here, here, and here, however, the political issues are in fact a consequence of cultural and, prior to that, religious causes.

     So, yes, by all means, let’s keep fighting the political fight, but given the societal trends (and the Gallup data above is just the latest evidence), we can expect the political arena to become increasingly difficult. Long term we need to work on bringing our country back to Christ.  One of my two favorite quotes is this one from John Adams: “Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious People. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other.” Well, we are no longer a moral or a religious people.  Welcome to mission territory: we have our work cut out for us.

Featured image above: “Francis Xavier” by Bartolomé Esteban Murillo  , c. 1670. St. Francis Xavier is a patron saint of missions.