On the one hand, social justice is an integral part of Church teaching. It is based on the rights that flow from and safeguard human dignity, and it inclines us to work with others to help make social institutions better serve the common good.

In the section on Christian morality entitled “The Human Community,” the Catechism of the Catholic Church devotes an entire section (nos. 1928-48) specifically to the topic of “social justice.” Similarly, the 2004 Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church, which gives a magnificent overview of the wider topic of the Church’s social doctrine, nonetheless draws heavily on the concept of social justice. It provides, for example:

“The Church’s social Magisterium constantly calls for the most classical forms of justice to be respected: commutative, distributive and legal justice. Ever greater importance has been given to social justice, which represents a real development in general justice, the justice that regulates social relationships according to the criterion of observance of the law. Social justice, a requirement related to the social question which today is worldwide in scope, concerns the social, political, and economic aspects and, above all, the structural dimension of problems and their respective solutions” (no. 210; original emphasis, footnotes omitted).

The Church’s social doctrine is rooted in Scripture and especially draws upon the Church’s social encyclicals of the past hundred or so years, beginning with Pope Leo XIII’s Rerum Novarum in 1891.

But social justice is two things. It’s also a code word used by the political left to push a liberal social agenda coupled with a collectivist economic agenda that walks and talks like socialism. In other words, to appeal to Catholics, especially those who might tilt to the left religiously and politically anyway, some political operatives use Catholic jargon like “social justice” or “common good” or “preferential option for the poor” to manipulate public opinion. But what they mean and what the Church means are, well, two different things.

This is unlike the homosexual activists’ commandeering of the word “gay” a couple decades ago. For the most part, gay is hardly ever used as an adjective meaning “happy” or “lively” or “merry” any more, and even when it is, it’s not confused with the new usage of “gay.” So “gay” has become more like “bark,” which can be either the sound a dog makes or part of a tree. From the context, one can readily figure out what the speaker means.

When it comes to “social justice,” though, ambiguity is the name of the game. The political left understands that compassionate-sounding Catholic language can be used to generate support among Catholics. Yet the political activists are not using the terms in the same way, and most Catholics are too ignorant of the Church’s social doctrine to say boo about it.

So, while ”social justice” is two things (Church teaching and liberal code word), the two things are blended just enough to cause considerable—and largely calculated—confusion. And this ambiguity is also found among some Church leaders in the field of social concerns, who can seem at least as committed to partisan Democratic politics as they are to the Church’s actual social doctrine. Some would go so far as to consider support for President Obama’s radical social agenda as a “proportionate reason” for not supporting a pro-life, pro-family candidate. That’s why many orthodox Catholic leaders, not to mention conservative commentators like Glenn Beck, would like to do away with “social justice” altogether.

How did we get to this point?

We are living during a crisis of faith. Vatican II’s Gaudium et Spes, which reflects the thought and input of the man who would eventually become Pope John Paul II, notes the unprecedented acceptance of systematic atheism and secularism in today’s world. Many people are looking for solutions “right here, right now,” without reference to the divine or to our supernatural end.

Such secularist and materialistic models have in some places corrupted the Church’s social outreach. When this happens, social justice degenerates into myopic political activism. The authentic quest for human development then becomes co-opted by agendas that are completely opposed to Church teaching and the good of the human person, most notably the pro-abortion forces and the “gay rights” movement.

Accordingly, we frequently encounter “peace and justice” Catholics who outright dissent from Church teaching on abortion and other “conservative issues,” or who relativize such teachings to an intolerable degree. Our rejection of such distortions of Church teaching can, unfortunately, lead us to swing the pendulum in the other direction–to our not paying sufficient attention to the social doctrine of the Church.

I can’t say I have all the answers to this problem. I do think that any attempt to sweep “social justice” under the rug would be akin to Martin Luther’s trying to remove the Letter of James. It wouldn’t work. Even more, social justice is a thoroughly Catholic principle that we shouldn’t be ashamed of and certainly can’t abolish from the Catholic lexicon. For faithful Catholics, social justice is a “home game,” and we should proactively promote what the Church really teaches on the subject.

So, I think a good place to begin would be for Catholics to start learning, teaching, and eventually applying the authentic social teaching of the Church. A great place to start would be by picking up a copy of the Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church, or by reading it online. The Compendium has many sections, including ones on human dignity, family, work, peace, economics, and politics, all examined in light of official Church teaching, through the lens of God’s love for mankind and the Church’s mission to the world.

Of course, the application of principles in this area can be difficult and even contentious:

–How do just war principles apply to the conflicts in Afghanistan and Iraq?

–How does the principle of subsidiarity relate to President Obama’s healthcare legislation?

–How does the Church’s teaching on the fundamental dignity of the human person inform the debate on immigration reform?

The list is endless. We might not ever end up agreeing on all these issues, but if we approach them using the same rock-solid Catholics principles, then—and only then—the Church as such can have a meaningful, united voice in the public square.

Lastly, the “big picture,” which Popes John Paul II and Benedict XVI have seen and brilliantly proclaimed on behalf of the Church, transcends the artificial separation of the “pro-life” and “peace and justice” camps that we often find in the Church in America. The contemporary loss of the sense of God has led to a culture of death that is fundamentally violent and unjust. The remedy is found when we turn our gaze upon Christ, the Lord of Life and Prince of Peace.

Catholics have been told that it’s immoral to vote for a candidate because of their permissive views on abortion. If we want to vote for a pro-abortion despite their permissive views on abortion, we must have “proportionate reasons.” I’ve written on this in the past (see the posts linked to here), and there have been some very good explanations from Catholic bishops, including this pastoral letter by the Kansas City bishops.

I’ll take up the issue of “proportionate reasons” again at some point but, like the canon 915 issue, it’s unreasonable to expect the bishops to speak in a unified, meaningful way on those issues right now. While pro-life advocates need to keep “going there,” I think it’s also important to identify three things all bishops can and should stress right now with a unified voice, to help overcome rampant confusion on these issues. Here are the three items I propose:

First, I think there needs to be a clear presentation on mortal sin as it relates to the reception of Communion. I realize that many people don’t want to hear about it, and that a coherent presentation of the Gospel has to emphasize grace, not sin. Yet, both St. Paul and official Church teaching are clear that anyone who is aware of having committed a serious sin should refrain from receiving Communion until he or she has been reconciled with the Church through sacramental Confession. It’s all right there in Catechism, no. 1385, and all bishops should be able to sign off on that as a general principle.

Second, the fact that our lawmakers and judges say there is a right to abortion does not make it so. The fact that it is legal does not make it moral, nor does it give Catholics the right to wash their hands of the matter (a la Prof. Kmiec) as though we simply have to take this abomination as a “given” in our society. So, I think the second point would be to communicate to the faithful their obligation to oppose permissive abortion laws (and certainly not defend and champion them, like some of our Catholic lawmakers). On this point, we need more teaching on Pope John Paul II’s Evangelium Vitae, which leaves little doubt on the subject:

Abortion and euthanasia are thus crimes which no human law can claim to legitimize. There is no obligation in conscience to obey such laws; instead there is a grave and clear obligation to oppose them by conscientious objection. From the very beginnings of the Church, the apostolic preaching reminded Christians of their duty to obey legitimately constituted public authorities (cf. Rom 13:1-7; 1 Pet 2:13-14), but at the same time it firmly warned that ‘we must obey God rather than men’ (Acts 5:29). In the Old Testament, precisely in regard to threats against life, we find a significant example of resistance to the unjust command of those in authority. After Pharaoh ordered the killing of all newborn males, the Hebrew midwives refused. ‘They did not do as the king of Egypt commanded them, but let the male children live’ (Ex 1:17). But the ultimate reason for their action should be noted: ‘the midwives feared God’ (ibid.). It is precisely from obedience to God-to whom alone is due that fear which is acknowledgment of his absolute sovereignty-that the strength and the courage to resist unjust human laws are born. It is the strength and the courage of those prepared even to be imprisoned or put to the sword, in the certainty that this is what makes for ‘the endurance and faith of the saints’ (Rev 13:10).

In the case of an intrinsically unjust law, such as a law permitting abortion or euthanasia, it is therefore never licit to obey it, or to ‘take part in a propaganda campaign in favor of such a law, or vote for it’ (paragraph 73).

Third, bishops don’t agree on the application of canon 915, which calls for the withholding of Communion from notorious sinners. Some bishops have the intestinal fortitude of St. John Chrysostom, but others don’t. But many of those who won’t withhold Communion at least agree that the politician, judge, or celebrity who takes sides against the Church on key moral issues like abortion and same-sex marriage shouldn’t receive Communion. They just don’t want to be in the position of withholding it. But that’s still an important point: Couldn’t the bishops collectively and forcefully say that those who advocate for “rights” such as abortion, euthanasia, same-sex marriage, etc. should not receive Holy Communion until they’re reconciled with the Church? Then when people like VP Biden go up and receive Communion, the faithful know that this is something he really shouldn’t be doing.

I offer these three points not to try to tilt an election in favor of a given political party or to criticize anyone, but so that Catholics can really know the score. We’re told that it’s a serious sin to support a pro-abortion Catholic politician, that we need to have some other “proportionate reason” for it to be morally acceptable. Pope John Paul II as quoted above couldn’t have been more clear. Yet then the Church seems to wink at the very politicians whom we’re not supposed to support under pain of sin. It’s not right.

But even more, it’s a matter of salvation–not just for those who may be led astray by all the mixed messages with the heavy overlay of media spin, but even more for the Catholic public officials themselves, whose manifestly unworthy reception of Holy Communion only compounds their sin and spiritual blindness (see 1 Corinthians 11:27-30).

I don’t know what the bishops actually will do, but I don’t think strong statements by some bishops coupled with the indecisive silence of the national body (coupled with the obfuscating “Faithful Citizenship” document) is the best recipe. I think their emphasizing catechetical points of agreement that even the “non-Chrysostom-like” bishops can stomach may be the right incremental step to take at this time.

At the same time, better (barely) late than never, and perhaps the timing will allow for a candid discussion relatively free of USCCB-speak (read “Faithful Citizenship”) or charges of partisanship.

In my own discussions with bishops regarding this issue in the weeks leading up to the November meeting, I have urged them to consider these three concerns:

(1) I think it’s important that the bishops clearly distinguish the canon 915 issue (i.e., withholding Communion from notoriously pro-abortion Catholic politicians) from the sinful exercise of one’s vote. Apart from the automatic excommunication provision of canon law (which to my knowledge has never been applied to politicians) or the possibility of a heresy trial, I believe that canon 915 of the Code of Canon Law should be engaged on its own merits.

Namely, can it be said that a Catholic politician who for decades has fought for liberalized abortion rights “obstinately persists in manifest grave sin”? If yes, then he or she must “not . . . be admitted to Holy Communion” until he or she repents. If not, however, then it would be helpful for the faithful (and probably for the bishops, too) to understand why not, especially given the clear language of canon 915.

I understand both the disinclination to withhold Communion as well as the desire to respect the discretion of individual bishops to make pastoral judgments concerning Catholics in their own jurisdiction. All I’m asking for is that the canon be applied consistently.

Last month, each umpire during the World Series called balls and strikes a little differently, but at least they were all working from the same criteria as to what constitutes the strike zone. Similarly, the bishops should be on the same page as to the objective meaning of canon 915 and thus be using the same “strike zone” — and at present they’re not.

When it comes to canon 915, there seem to be some bishops who confuse “visible communion” with “invisible communion” (of course we can’t make judgments about the latter), and others who flat out say that they would never refuse Communion under any circumstance. That conflicts with the parameters of canon 915 and leads to scandalously inconsistent applications of Church law.

Of course canon 915 applies only in exceptional situations, but when it does apply, it should not be seen as a penalty or taking sides politically, but rather as an act of pastoral charity to the sinner as well as to all the faithful.

(2) Church documents say that it is “formal cooperation with evil” to vote for a candidate because of their permissive views on abortion, euthanasia, and presumably same-sex marriage. Even material cooperation is forbidden in the absence of “proportionate reasons.” That’s all well and good. But in the case of the pro-abortion politician himself or herself, he or she is the one with whom the faithful are forbidden formally to cooperate. In other words, what the Church has to say about “formal cooperation” in this situation seems to presuppose the fact that the pro-abortion politicians’ views constitute “manifest grave sin.” If that’s not the case, then it shouldn’t constitute “formal cooperation with evil” to align ourselves politically with such people.

Let me be clear about this. The Church says that I would be committing mortal sin in voting for a Catholic politician like Joe Biden or Nancy Pelosi if I do so because of their pro-abortion views and policies. How could we deny, then, that such public figures are persisting in “manifest grave sin,” especially as they work to bring others to accept their dissident, sinful views?

The bishops’ failure to take appropriate corrective action pertaining to these politicians undercuts anything they might say about the faithful’s obligation not to support the intrinsic evils championed by these politicians. Perhaps the bishops could start by declaring that any Catholic serving in Congress — Democrat or Republican — who votes in favor of the Freedom of Choice Act must be refused Holy Communion until he or she repents.

(3) Clarifying the narrow issues of canon 915′s applicability and the sinfulness of voting for candidates who support abortion, euthanasia, and same-sex marriage would put the much broader Faithful Citizenship document in its proper context. As it is, I have not encountered anyone who has had his or her conscience formed by that document. Instead, I run into many people, including a shamefully large number of Catholic school teachers who quote Faithful Citizenship selectively and use it to rationalize their pre-determined conclusion to support a pro-abortion candidate. I know it’s not intended as such, but in practice, it’s a pastoral filibuster used to neutralize (to put it mildly) the teachings of the Holy Father and the individual bishops.

Clearly the first order of business in making a prudent decision of conscience is to rule out any alternatives that are morally unacceptable. Once that’s accomplished, then a document like Faithful Citizenship can do much good. There are, after all, many important issues facing our country in every election, and we should understand them in the context of an authentically Catholic worldview.

But the make-or-break issues of our time are abortion (life) and institutionalized homosexuality (family). History will judge us harshly if we as the Church in the United States lack the resolve to be at the forefront of resisting these grave societal evils.

I pray that that’s the direction the U.S. bishops take in Baltimore.

Sometimes this children's book gets me to reflect on all the "mothers" in my life. I think primarily of my own mother, as well as my deceased godmother and grandmothers. I also think of my wife Maureen, who in our house is affectionately known as "Mommy." As I noted in the January-February issue of Lay Witness, my oldest daughter has joined the ranks of motherhood. I also call to mind the heroic birth mothers of my adopted children, and the faithful godmothers whose prayers and goodness help our children to grow in the love of Christ.

As I consider the matter further, I have to include the Grandmammy of them all: Eve, whom Scripture describes as "the mother of all the living" (Gen. 3:20). And despite contemporary confusion regarding the family and gender roles, it's true that all women are maternal at the heart of their being.  I have been the recipient of the maternal love and nurture of women since my earliest school days, including in a special way the tender care shown me through the years by religious sisters.

There's Something about Mary

The above list is formidable, and I'm profoundly grateful for all the "mothers" in my life. But there's another mother who stands above them all, the masterpiece of God's creation: the Blessed Virgin Mary.

Just as Christ is the New Adam, the source of new life for all those who were dead in sin, so from apostolic times Mary has been called the New Eve, the mother of all those who are alive in Christ.  She truly is our spiritual mother, our mother in the order of grace (see Catechism, no. 968).

Here we must strenuously avoid the temptation to equate "spiritual" with "abstract" or "less than real." Mary's motherhood is more real than flesh-and-blood motherhood, not less. And by its nature it's relational, calling us to a filial love of our Blessed Mother.

This truth was not lost on the first generation of Protestant reformers, who maintained some devotion to Mary. For example, Martin Luther once wrote that "the veneration of Mary is inscribed in the very depths of the human heart." Only over time did this devotion subside as the Reformers further distanced themselves — and the Bible — from the living tradition of the Church, especially the sacred liturgy.

Thus Marian apologetics is very important today as we strive to demonstrate with clarity and reverence the biblical and traditional bases for our Marian beliefs. But ultimately, mothers are to be loved and honored, not merely proven and recognized.

I remember many years ago hearing a story about Gerry Faust, a devout Catholic man who coached the Notre Dame football team in the early 80s. He was visiting the home of a top recruit. Everything seemed to be going well, but then when the recruit's mother entered the room, he treated her disrespectfully. That was all Coach Faust needed to see. He refused to offer the young man a scholarship. Despite the recruit's obvious athletic ability, he had a significant character flaw. Coach Faust was wise enough to know that how we treat our mother speaks volumes as to what kind of person we are.

When it comes to the Blessed Virgin Mary, we communicate what we really believe through our loving mother-son, mother-daughter relationships with her. It's one thing to talk a good game and trot out Scripture verses and conciliar decrees. It's quite another to live the Fourth Commandment's injunction to honor our spiritual mother.

Behold Your Mother

All Christians recognize the primacy of faith in Jesus Christ, the one savior of the world. This faith is lived out by becoming disciples, or followers, of Christ. In fact, the mission given to the apostles and thus to the Church by Christ was to "make disciples of all nations" (Mt. 28:19). All sincere Christians want to be faithful disciples of Christ.

Among the many disciples of Christ mentioned in the Bible, St. John is singled out as the "beloved disciple" or "the disciple Jesus loved." Surely Jesus loved all of us to the point of shedding His blood on the Cross. Yet St. John is identified as the disciple whom Jesus especially loved. We can only imagine the remarkable relationship they must have had.

St. John is the only apostle who hung in there to the end with Jesus. From the Cross, Jesus says to the beloved disciple, "Behold your mother" (Jn. 19:27). Jesus didn't entrust His dear mother to just anybody, but to a faithful disciple whom He really loved.

What's critical for us, as disciples in our own right who yearn to learn from the disciple par excellence, is St. John's response. We read that "from that hour the disciple took her into his home." There was no reticence about taking Mary in, as though she got in the way of St. John's relationship with the Lord. Rather, the beloved disciple clearly saw that hs Christian discipleship impelled him to take Mary into his home.

And Mary wasn't simply John's concern. We see, less than two months later, Mary in the midst of the apostles and disciples at Pentecost, praying for an outpouring of the same Holy Spirit that overshadowed her in the Annunciation. And to this day she is there, in the midst of her Son's disciples, praying with us and for us with the heart of a beloved mother.

Woman Clothed with the Son

St. John wrote five books of the New Testament: his Gospel, three epistles, and the Book of Revelation. In Revelation 12, he uses rich imagery to describe the epic battle between the offspring of Satan and the offspring of Eve foretold way back in Genesis 3. The child of Revelation, who rules all nations with an iron rod (Rev. 12:5; cf. Ps. 2:9; Rev. 19:15), is Christ Himself, and the woman clothed with the sun who gives birth to the child is the Blessed Virgin Mary (for an excellent, more detailed presentation, see Michael Barber, Coming Soon, available at www.EmmausRoad.org). That's why on several Marian feast days the Church in her wisdom selects a Mass reading from Revelation 12.

In Revelation 12:17, we learn the identity of Mary's other offspring: "those who keep God's commandments and bear witness to Jesus." If we are Christ's disciples, if we bear witness to Christ and keep His commandments, we have Mary as our mother.  And of course Scripture tells us that all generations will call Mary "blessed" (Lk. 1:48). So it's altogether fitting that we lovingly call Mary our "Blessed Mother." Her mission is not to magnify herself, but to magnify the Lord (Lk. 1:46), as she continually beckons us to be faithful disciples, to do whatever Jesus tells us to do (Jn. 2:5).

This month as we especially honor all the mothers in our midst, let us especially thank the Lord for the gift of His own mother. May we, like the beloved disciple, joyfully welcome her into our hearts and homes this spring.

This quote, attributed to the 18^th-century British philosopher Edmund Burke, is often used as a rallying cry when it comes to attacks against the Catholic Church. Perhaps we can fine-tune the quote this way for our purposes: "All that is necessary for anti-Catholicism to succeed is that good Catholics do nothing."

This quote appropriately exhorts all of us to fight against the vices of laziness and cowardice and do our part in standing up for the Church. However, there is another implied exhortation embedded in this quote: We can't take for granted that any of us, let alone the majority of Catholics, are "good." While we might disagree as to what precisely constitutes a "good" Catholic, we can say that ordinarily a "good" Catholic would not sit by idly while the Church is attacked. And even if he or she did so temporarily, that person should easily be stirred to action when confronted with the reality of anti-Catholicism. But, given the inroads anti-Catholicism has made in our culture with relatively little resistance, it's fair to ask, are the "good" Catholics doing nothing, or are many Catholics not as "good" as we're called to be? At the end of the day, what is a "good" Catholic?

Defective Faith

A theology professor once asked his class, "What's the biggest problem in the Church today, ignorance or apathy?" One student flippantly responded, "I don't know, and I don't care."

The student's answer, upon further examination, is very close to the mark. Ignorance refers to a defect in the virtue of faith, and apathy refers to a defect in the virtue of charity. With the virtue of hope, these three theological virtues are the necessary building blocks of a thriving Catholic life and culture. I suggest that we need to renew this foundation, in ourselves and collectively as the Church, as the necessary prerequisite for effectively addressing anti-Catholic forces in society.

We are approaching the 40th anniversary of the publication of Pope Paul VI's Credo of the People of God (1968), issued at the conclusion of the "year of faith." The Holy Father recognized the crisis of faith in the Church, and he issued his Credo to articulate orthodox Catholic teaching to counteract the rise of ignorance and confusion regarding our faith.

Forty years later, while we see some promising signs of renewal, we have also witnessed the devastating effects of the "crisis of faith" that has ravaged two, going on three, generations of Catholics in our midst.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church notes that "'ignorance of God' is the principle and explanation of all moral deviations" (no. 2087), and it further describes several sins against the faith, including heresy, which are routinely ignored today. We are all too familiar with widespread rejection of key Church teachings, from the papacy and Real Presence to the hot button morality issues that challenge men and women to turn away from deviant, immoral behaviors.

Are We Serious?

We can never lose sight of the fact that our faith is not merely a moral code or abstract body of teachings, but rather a dynamic relationship with the living God. Even so, our faith in the person of Jesus Christ necessarily implies a content of faith. For example, when Our Lord sent out His apostles to make disciples of all nations, He told them to teach all men and women "to observe all that He has commanded" (Mt. 28:20). Similarly, Our Lord also said, "Why do you call me 'Lord, Lord' and do not do what I tell you?" (Lk. 6:46). Our Lord denies knowing those who claim to be His followers yet do not accept and put into practice His teachings, communicated through His Church (see also Mt. 7:21-24; Lk. 10:16).

Organizations that are serious about their principles will not tolerate views within their own ranks that undermine their efforts. Imagine the NAACP allowing members to push for "separate but equal" facilities, or Planned Parenthood allowing its representatives to publicize the harmful effects of abortion on women and to admit that it's a form of homicide. It's not going to happen.

Yet, we have to admit that our Catholic faith has not been adequately taught and embraced in recent decades, such that outright dissent is simply considered an alternative opinion. The deposit of apostolic faith is one of the central bonds of unity that unites Catholics (cf. Catechism, no. 815), but today many people see the Church as a vague cultural reality, not demanding more than loyalty to Notre Dame football and wearing green on St. Patrick's Day. That's why abortion-rights advocates such as Frances Kissling or Ted Kennedy can get away with holding themselves out as Catholics in good standing. If we're not serious about what we believe, how can we expect the "world" — which is the sworn enemy of the Gospel anyway — to treat our beliefs with respect?

In response, we must pray for the grace to live this passage from Catechism, no. 1816: "The disciple of Christ must not only keep the faith and live on it, but also profess it, confidently bear witness to it, and spread it."

Meanwhile, the virtue of hope is all about putting our trust in the Lord and His promises, especially when the going gets tough. In the midst of attacks from without and scandals from within, many Catholics might be tempted to despair. They may well conclude that the Church is going to hell in a hand basket, and they wring their hands of any responsibility for setting things aright. Or, in the midst of their despair, they may conclude that the project of Christianity is no match for the relentless secularism of our culture. The best that we can hope for is to get in a good kick to the shins here or a minor victory there, but the war is lost. Clearly such a mindset betrays a lack of trust in the living God.

As significant of a problem as despair is, the alternate failure of hope — presumption — can be just as deadly. Presumption denies the need to seek God's grace — either because we think we can save ourselves or because God will give us His grace no matter how we conduct our lives. We commonly see this latter mindset in funerals today, which often seem to be "mini-canonizations."

An objective observer could easily conclude that it really doesn't matter how one lives, because everyone seems to end up in a "better place." Many poorly formed Catholics embrace just such an implicit universalism. There are probably many reasons why people think that way, including the natural desire that our loved ones make it to heaven. Yet, when we give in to such presumption, then we are not really serious about the claims our faith makes on us. And if we're not willing to go to the mat for our faith, if we're not willing to admit the practical reality and consequences of mortal sin, then we're not going to get worked up about attacks on the Catholic Church. A mushy, uncommitted Catholicism is no match for the anti-Catholic forces that have been unleashed against the Church.

We Desire the Good of All

The Catechism identifies two of the principal sins against charity as being indifference and lukewarmness (no. 2094). These sins reveal a lack a passion and zeal in our commitment to God and neighbor. How we respond to attacks against the ones we love can vary greatly, but a failure to respond at all is unacceptable. When we encounter a bully we need to have sufficient self-esteem to defend ourselves the best we can. And what husband would not go ballistic if someone attempted to harm his wife or children? That's why it's so scandalous when some Church leaders have failed to show sufficient outrage when their spiritual children have been abused.

In today's culture, many people want Christ without His Church. They want "spirituality" without the demands and perceived corruption of "organized religion." (Some might respond that the Catholic Church is not all that organized!) Clearly the work of the new evangelization is to help men and women rediscover the intimate, saving connection between Christ the King and His Kingdom, the Church. We must rekindle love for the Church among her members — manifested not as a spineless tolerance, but as a Christ-centered desire for the good of all.

Christ Himself teaches us about this intimate connection. When Saul of Tarsus encountered Our Lord on the road to Damascus, He said, "Saul, Saul, why to you persecute Me?" (Acts 9:4). Christ had already ascended to the Father at that time. Saul had never even met Our Lord. Rather, he was persecuting His followers. Yet Our Lord took this very personally. Indeed, Christ from the earliest days identified Himself with His Church, His beloved bride. Attack the Church, and you attack Christ Himself.

Do we experience attacks against the Church as attacks against Our Lord? If more of us did, anti-Catholicism would meet the decisive, unified resistance that has been lacking in our time.

The Catechism says that in every age "saints have always been the source and origin of renewal in the most difficult moments in the Church's history" (Catechism, no. 828). Everyday saints like you and me are called to be the difference-makers. For Catholicism to succeed, we need "good" Catholics to live with God's grace the virtues of faith, hope, and charity, thus radiating the light of Christ in an otherwise dark, hostile world.

Yet, those of us who are serious about following the Lord and growing in Christian virtue know that the Bible presents a different image of meekness. Our faith extols meekness not only as a desirable virtue, but also as a beatitude and fruit of the Holy Spirit. Moses, who boldly delivered an entire nation from bondage, is described in Scripture as the meekest of men (Num. 12:3).

Surely Jesus Himself embodied all the virtues, but when it comes to meekness, there can be no doubt. He says, "Learn from me; for I am meek and humble of heart" (Mt. 11:29 NAB). Not only is Our Lord meek, but He also expects us to imitate His meekness. This message is for everybody, but in a special way it goes out to today's men, for whom meekness, sadly, is a rare commodity.

Our God Reins

We can often come to a richer understanding of words by examining their roots. Virtue (in Latin, virtus) is derived from the Latin word vir, which means man. Virtue, therefore, has historically been understood as implying a manly strength. Meekness, sometimes used interchangeably with "gentleness" in biblical translations, comes from the Greek word prautes, meaning "not easily provoked." This in turn comes from praus, which refers to a highly spirited trained horse. Such a horse has become so gentle and mild, so "reined in," that a child may pet it or ride on its back. But the more important thing is that the horse no longer thrashes about wildly, but rather has been trained to take direction. The strength and power of the noble animal have been harnessed for good, not forfeited. Similarly, a harnessed or "meeked" river can generate power, and a harnessed or "meeked" fire can heat a campsite. Meekness, even in its etymology, has always implied harnessed strength, not weakness.

Applied to the human virtue, meekness implies an openness to God that allows Him to act through us, particularly at those times when our fallen nature might lead us to thrash about wildly. Meekness indeed involves a certain gentleness toward our neighbor, but it primarily applies to our relationship with God, as we daringly acquiesce to His harnessing of our gifts and talents for our own good and the good of His Church.

Anger Management

Meekness invites God's presence, enabling us to do good in response to evil. St. Thomas Aquinas points out that meekness moderates anger according to right reason. Therefore, meekness is opposed to the vice of anger, which involves excess in the passion of anger — in other words, what we might call "unbridled" anger.

St. Thomas says that anger can be a great obstacle to our pursuit of truth, while meekness allows us to remain self-possessed. What does this mean? An example from the world of sports might help.

When a professional athlete is provoked and allows the provocation to "get in his head," he commits a foolish foul or penalty by blindly retaliating. Such retaliation does not demonstrate strength, but rather foolishness and a lack of virtue. His action hurts him and his team. Conversely, the player who keeps his head in the game proves himself coachable and he likely raises his game a notch under pressure. We would call this person a "gamer" or a "clutch performer."

Similarly, when it comes to living as Christians today, meekness has both a negative and positive dimension. It prevents us from "going ballistic" and allowing our anger to consume us. But not foolishly making things worse is only part of the equation. Meekness also allows us to remain focused on the prize — our Lord Jesus Christ and eternal communion with Him. This may seem obvious, but we all have experienced the blinding effects of anger at one time or another. Meekness keeps us focused during crunch time, when things don't seem to be going our way.

Kinder, Gentler Christians

Meekness involves taking seriously Our Lord's instruction that we become like children, that we learn the things of the God-made-man, who was meek and humble of heart. It doesn't mean that we can never feel anger, and it surely does not exclude legitimate self-defense or steadily persevering in doing the right thing (cf. 2 Thess. 3:13).

Rather, meekness is about clinging to God and letting Him bring about good in any situation. As St. Paul writes, we should strive to "overcome evil with good" (Rom. 12:21). As Bl. Teresa of Calcutta once said, "It is better to do good than fight evil."

St. Francis de Sales said we should make a special point of daily asking God in prayer to give us, before all else, the true spirit of meekness that befits the children of God. In his spiritual classic Introduction to the Devout Life he writes:

It is better to learn how to live without being angry than to imagine one can moderate and control anger lawfully; and if through weakness and frailty one is overtaken by it, it is far better to put it away forcibly than to parley with it, for give anger ever so little way, and it will become your master. . . . You will ask how to put away anger. My child, when you feel its first movement, collect yourself gently and seriously, not hastily or with impetuosity. . . . Moreover, when there is nothing to stir your wrath, lay up a store of meekness and kindliness, speaking and acting in things great and small as gently as possible.

Interestingly, St. Francis counsels us not only to "seek the sweetness of aromatic honey in courtesy and suavity with strangers, but also the sweetness of milk among those of our household and our neighbors; a sweetness terribly lacking to some who are as angels abroad and devils at home." This counsel beckons us to examine how we are able to restrain our anger at home and also within the Church, which is our true home in the Family of God.

Furthermore, we can say that meekness is an eminently "practical" virtue, as Scripture identifies several ways that it helps build up the Church:

(a) Galatians 6:1 says that those who have fallen away, if repentant, are to be brought back "in a spirit of gentleness."

(b) 1 Peter 3:15 says that our apologetics efforts should always be accompanied by reverence and meekness (or "gentleness"), as we're trying to win brothers and sisters, not mere arguments.

(c) James 1:21 says that we should receive God's Word with meekness, to be receptive to the Lord's discipline and sovereignty in our lives.

(d) 2 Timothy 2:25 says that we should correct those who oppose us with "gentleness," exuding a calm confidence in the Lord.

Inherit the Land

Our Lord doesn't say, "Blessed are the self-assertive, the overbearing, the calculating, those who don't let others get the best of them, the successful," etc. Rather, He says, "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth" (Mt. 5:5). The meek are not patsies to be trampled underfoot, but are the big winners in God's eyes.

As Catholics we learn in the "Act of Hope" to trust in "God's infinite goodness and promises." This infinitely good God has given everything to Christ. When we unite ourselves with Christ as His faithful disciples, we prove ourselves to be truly His brothers and sisters and thus true heirs of His Father's kingdom.

We know that Christ was perfect in His humanity. We also know that the sin and violence inflicted upon Him did not deter Him from fulfilling His Father's will. He teaches us that meekness isn't for wimps, but rather is tough as nails — the nails of the Cross.

While we see aspects of Our Lord's meekness in His tender affection toward children, outcasts, and the sick, it's on the Cross that we see meekness in all its splendor. Rather than curse His fate or blindly retaliate against His persecutors, Christ has the presence of mind to commend His spirit to the Father and utter the immortal words, "Father, forgive them…. "

My unmarried daughter's announcement last February forever changed our family. No longer could "unplanned pregnancies" or "single mothers" be spoken of in abstract terms, as things that only happen in other families.

This was a flesh-and-blood reality that challenged us to renew our commitment to Christ and to our beloved firstborn daughter.

The early weeks of 2006 had some remarkable twists. On New Year's Day, hours before heading to Boston for my annual Ignatian retreat, my wife Maureen gave me the surprising yet wonderful news that she was pregnant. In February we learned that she was carrying twins, but the joy tuned to sadness as one died in utero, then the other. While Maureen was still recovering from her seventh and eighth miscarriages, we learned that we were to become grandparents for the first time. Over the course of the next several months, we had our ups and downs, but we've come to see in a more profound way God's providential love for our family.

Life Choices

Like all Catholic parents, we strive to provide all our children with a solid formation in the Christian faith. While parents might disagree on the exact amount of "sheltering" that needs to take place, clearly during our children's formative years it's crucial to maintain some control over their environment and activities. Yet when our children become adults in their own right, we can't exercise the same type of control. We desire good things for our adult children, but we can't make decisions for them.

Maureen jokingly says, "I hate free will" when our children make bad decisions. If it were only up to us, our children would always choose Christ and His Church, and they would always choose that which is morally good. Yet they are all on their own journey home to God, and we have to trust that the Lord in His time will lead them to repentance and conversion.

In this particular situation, we obviously could not undo the sins and bad choices our daughter had already made as an emancipated adult. Even more importantly, going forward we could not "control" the outcome, despite my conviction that "Father knows best" how to handle the situation. Maureen and I had to learn that what was needed was not control and coercion, but love, support, and wise guidance. Our daughter had to make her own difficult decisions, and that was scary.

Baby Matters

In the weeks following this "bombshell," my daughter was inclined to choose to place her child in an adoptive home. There is substantial irony in this, as Maureen and I have had several experiences of adoption as the adoptive parents.

I affirmed my daughter's inclination to go the adoption route. The totality of her circumstances, not to mention the absence of a father, seemed to point clearly in that direction. At her request, I began looking for a couple that might be open to an independent adoption.

As a matter of principle, I knew that adoption would be a good, loving decision. At the same time, what grandparent does not want to be part of their grandchild's life? I have frequently called upon grandparents in that situation to be generous in supporting adoption and not to lay undue pressure on the mother to keep their grandchild. The shoe was now on the other foot, and so now I had to walk the talk. I'm glad I did, but I learned to have more compassion and understanding for grandparents who don't want to "lose" their grandchildren.

As it turned out, however, our daughter really wanted to keep the child and be a full-time mother. She just couldn't see how it could all play out given her difficult circumstances. I continued to encourage adoption and lovingly set forth the harsh realities of single motherhood. Even more, we encouraged her in her spiritual and personal life to grow in faith and responsibility.

Over time, it became increasingly clear that her heart was set on keeping the child. We did our best to change gears and support this decision once it was firmly made. We invited her to move home rent-free so that she could be full-time, nursing Mom. She accepted.

Coming Home

Our daughter's moving home required quite an adjustment for everybody. After being on her own for several years, our 26-year-old had to deal not only with meddling parents, but also five younger siblings ranging in age from 14 to less than two, as well as her elderly grandmother. For our part, we had to get used to having an adult child in our midst, learning to balance parental concern with the desire to give her appropriate freedom and space.

Slowly but surely, our daughter blended back into our household. She grew accustomed to the rhythm of our daily life, from our more conventional hours to prayer time, family meals, and our busy homeschool day. I have commented in recent months that she has become, in some sense, more a part of our family than ever before. I'm very proud of her.

I realize that our society in general is too accepting of many evils that touch upon human sexuality and marriage and family life. All the same, as the pregnancy became more obvious to all the world, I was so grateful for the love and compassion showed us by the families in our parish and community. I don't recall hearing any judgmental or condemning remarks.

For myself, I remember a priest once saying that God's love, when focused on us sinners, shows itself as mercy. I want my daughter and all my family to come to a profound experience of God the Father's love for us. As a human father, I thought it was absolutely necessary to communicate to my daughter God's fatherly love and mercy. It surely wasn't the only thing, but it was the most important and God-like thing.

Similarly, I always want my family to see the Church as the Family of God, our true and lasting home. Even though we might stray, the Good Shepherd goes looking for us, and there's great rejoicing in heaven when He finds us and brings us back into the fold. If my family is truly to be a "domestic Church" or as Pope John Paul II called it, a "sanctuary of life," I felt it was imperative to extend an arm of assistance, welcome, and unconditional love to my daughter in her time of need.

New Arrival

Through the spring the entire family eagerly awaited the newest Suprenant.

Meanwhile, there was subtle yet real strengthening of family relationships.

Maureen became her labor coach and helped her get ready for childbirth and beyond.

Finally, on June 13th, the feast of St. Anthony, little Alexandra ("Alex") Marina Terese Suprenant was born. It didn't take much for this beautiful little child of God to steal her grandpa's heart.

Our daughter and Alex are a gift to the entire family. They share a room with my daughter Mary Kate, who loves being their "roommate." Alex has two doting uncles (Samuel, 5, and Raymond, 2) who consider themselves her bodyguards.

Meanwhile, our daughter continues to grow and mature as a full-time Mom. She has been a big help to her ailing grandmother, and she has become an indispensable part of our homeschooling operation, as she has been Samuel's kindergarten teacher this year. But beyond all that, her face looks happier than it has for many years.

My prayer and wish for my daughter is that she and Alex will continue to live with us. We want to encourage her ongoing growth as a woman of God and as a mother in our home until that day, God willing, our Lord calls her to the Sacrament of Marriage. Of course, all of that is her decision, not mine.

My pious son was praying for victory. He was not, however, thinking of a great battle like Lepanto or even of victory over sin and the triumph of Our Lady's Immaculate Heart. Rather, the object of his prayer was next week's home opener versus Penn State. (His prayer apparently was efficacious as the Irish crushed the Nittany Lions 41-17.)

Football is a terrific sport, but we can take this form of entertainment too seriously. Sometimes our allegiances go so far as to border on the sacrilegious. For example, when I first moved to this area, I heard of a priest who would wear black and gold vestments in the fall. These, of course, are not liturgical colors, but rather the colors of his beloved Steelers. On another occasion, I've heard of a parish that would give updates on football games during Mass, as though our salvation depends on that. Other parishes have altered their Sunday Mass schedules so they wouldn't conflict with the schedule of the local NFL team.

Fierce Competition

Those examples may be extreme, but they point to a reality faced by pastors around the country, as football and the Christian faith vie for our attention. It's not uncommon for a Catholic to complain about the homily going five minutes too long (apparently the pastor was out of time-outs), only to watch seven hours or more of football later that same day. Many football fans will spend more time watching commercials on a given weekend then they will spend in church. The liturgical seasons of Advent and Christmas compete with football every year, and on the local level the parish each weekend in a real way has to compete with a full complement of professional football games.

There are countless parallels that can be drawn by which we can assess where our own treasure lies. For instance, in preparing for Sunday, do we spend more time reading the sports page and listening to sports radio or reading the Gospel and other spiritual fare? Do we consider our community the local sports bar or the local parish? During the season, are we more likely to travel for a road game or go on a pilgrimage? Do we more frequently think of the Saints as our intercessors in heaven or as the NFL team that drafted Heisman Trophy winner Reggie Bush? Do we tend to spend Advent preparing for Christmas or for the playoffs? Do we think of January 1st as a holy day or as a college football marathon? During the week, are we more likely to hum a hymn from last Sunday's Mass, or our team's fight song?

The list goes on, and we armchair quarterbacks do well to re-evaluate our priorities in light of what's truly most important in life.

Home or Visitor?

Our Lord said, "Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also" (Mt 6:21). For most of us, our hearts are never too far away from our family.

After all, as the saying goes, "Home is where the heart is." We might go out to make our way in the world, perhaps even to travel abroad, but at some point we long to go home and be with our loved ones.

If that's true on the natural level, it's even truer on the supernatural level. The Church is the Family of God spread through space and time, uniting us to one another in Christ through familial bonds that transcend flesh and blood. But are we aware of — and more importantly, living — this reality?

While our membership in the Church as God's children is primarily a spiritual reality, it is nonetheless meant to be experienced to some degree in this life. As Pope John Paul II wrote, the parish in some sense is "the Church living in the midst of the homes of her sons and daughters." It's where we are called to live out the vocation of the first Christians, who "devoted themselves to the Apostles' teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers" (Acts 2:42).

The Church does acknowledge that there are many other places and forms of association through which the Church can be present and at work. Even so, in the words of Pope John Paul II, the Church considers the parish to be in a special way our "fraternal and welcoming family home." Why? Because it is a Eucharistic community and the heart of the liturgical life of Catholics in a particular locality (cf. Catechism, no. 2226). Our Lord's Eucharistic presence animates the life of the parish, as it strengthens us in holiness and builds authentic community — not only within the parish, but with the diocese and even the universal Church. In short, the parish is where we are to draw "living water" (Jn 4:14) to irrigate and fructify our daily lives.

Go Deep

While I know what the Church has to say about the parish in theory, I don't always put it into practice. I have to admit I've hurried home from Mass so as not to miss any of the "big game." What did that say about the importance I was placing on the Lord's Day?

Even those of us who aren't football fans may occasionally find ourselves at Mass thinking about the activities planned for later in the day, rather than what's taking place on the altar. If we were watching a football game or engaging in one of our favorite pursuits, would we let our minds wander so much?

When the Second Vatican Council emphasized the need for "full, active, and conscious" participation in the liturgy, the goal was not the proliferation of speaking parts and sundry liturgical ministries so much as to beckon us to enter more deeply into the realities celebrated in the liturgy, to be aware of who we are and what we're doing at Mass.

This "full, active, and conscious" participation makes all the difference.

Nature abhors a vacuum. If we don't engage ourselves in heavenly things, we will put disordered energy into worldly pursuits. God desires more for us than that.

Let's refocus on what we as lay Catholics can do to "live the liturgy" so that every aspect of our lives may bear witness to the love of God poured into our hearts through the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Now, as the father of six children, I understand that there's much more to providing an education for my children than meets the eye. There are now more educational options than ever, and Catholic schools are very expensive for medium-to-large middle-class families.

My wife Maureen and I annually survey the horizon to find what's best for each particular child, keeping in mind his or her needs, gifts, and interests, but above all our duty to provide for our children's formation in the Catholic faith. We're well aware that many of our own contemporaries stopped practicing the faith upon graduation, and so we see clearly the need to discern the matter with great care.

The Compendium of the Catechism of the Catholic Church affirms that parents not only should select a suitable school, but even more "they have the mission of educating their children in the Christian faith." It seems to me that this "mission" from God should not be taken lightly.

What Are the Options?

There are many ways that Catholic parents can fulfill their mission to educate their children in the Christian faith. Among the various choices, pride of place still belongs to Catholic schools, where the faith is taught in the context of a thoroughly Catholic curriculum and environment. In fact, Vatican II's Declaration on Christian Education  says, "Catholic parents are reminded of their duty to send their children to Catholic schools wherever this is possible, to give schools all the support in their power, and to cooperate with them in their work for the good of their children" (no. 8).

In addition, there are now a growing number of independent schools. Many of these schools have arisen in response to perceived deficiencies in the existing Catholic and public schools. They tend to be smaller and more autonomous, giving parents greater control over curriculum and student life.

Other private schools, including Protestant-run Christian schools, often provide a high-quality education coupled with strong moral formation. The downside, of course, is that the Catholic faith is not taught and in fact the child will likely be challenged early and often regarding his or her distinctively Catholic beliefs. The child will require very strong grounding in the faith at home to flourish in that setting.

Public schools are always an affordable option, and in some cases they may be the best choice because of the range of special educational services and programs they provide. Given the pervasively secular nature of the public school system, however, parents need to be especially vigilant.

Homeschooling continues to be the fastest-growing option. In the United States, more than 2 million children are homeschooled, and that number is increasing 7-15 percent every year. My own family homeschools. No doubt, it can be demanding, especially for larger families. Yet by seeing our home as a "Catholic school," we believe that we are embracing our mission as the primary educators of our children in a singularly proactive way.

We must consider all of these options in light of the reality of today's political and social climate. Societal attacks on marriage and family life filter their way down to individual families in subtle and not-so-subtle ways. If someone today speaks out against perverse lifestyles, he's vilified and sent away for "sensitivity training." However, large families are fair game, and derogatory comments about one's family size are commonplace and socially acceptable.

Further, exercising our right to educate our children as we see fit comes at a significant cost. For example, as a homeschooling father, even before buying books and school supplies for my home, I support the public and Catholic school systems through my taxes and tithes.

While assistance from the government in the form of vouchers would be most welcome, parents should also be able to expect assistance and support from the local church when it comes to our educational choices. It seems to me that a culture of cooperation would be much more constructive than a culture of competition and suspicion. One encouraging example of this cooperation occurs when Catholic schools, taking their lead from the public schools, allow homeschooling families to use some of their resources.

For many reasons, there is a natural tension among proponents of the educational alternatives available to us. The fact is that in choosing what's best for their particular children, Catholic parents should enjoy the fullest liberty in their choice of school. The Catechism affirms the parents' right to choose a school that corresponds to their own convictions (no. 2229).

In response to all this, I'd like to offer four principles that have guided my family's decisions regarding the education of our children.

The faith is primary. When the Church teaches that an end of marriage is "the procreation and education of children," she does not mean raising the next generation of Harvard, Yale, or even Notre Dame graduates. Rather, the Church has always understood "education" in the sense of educating children for the worship of God — in other words, helping them discover and fulfill their vocation as children of God.

Given this mind-set, our first question must be how well our educational choice will ensure that the faith is communicated to our children. Religious training isn't simply an extra-curricular activity like sports, music, or art, but rather must be the most basic element of their education, one which informs everything else our children do. That's why our homeschool has adopted the Ignatian motto "ad majorem Dei gloriam" which means "for the greater glory of God." We try to use this as a means of reminding ourselves and our children what our first priority truly is.

One size doesn't necessarily fit all. While faith is the primary concern, academic achievement and human formation should not be discounted. As we know from our catechism, "grace builds on nature," and the educational process is meant to cultivate "nature" as a means of preparing our children for their vocations in life. Each child has his or her special gifts and talents that should be developed.

Sometimes doing what's best for our child might call us out of our comfort zone. Maybe we always had planned on homeschooling our children or sending them all to the local Catholic school, but for whatever reason that choice doesn't work for little Johnny or Sally. In that case, we need to be flexible and docile to the Holy Spirit in selecting an appropriate alternative.

It takes a parish. Even if we choose not to send our children to the parish school, we should still view the parish as the center of our educational endeavors. The Catechism calls the parish "the Eucharistic community and the heart of the liturgical life of Christian families;…a privileged place for the catechesis of children and parents" (no. 2226). Pope John Paul II wrote that "as far as possible, the lay faithful ought to collaborate in every apostolic and missionary undertaking sponsored by their own ecclesial family [i.e., parish]."

I realize that for some people there is a disconnect. Communion with the Holy Father is one thing, but communion with one's bishop and diocese or even with one's pastor and parish is an entirely different matter. Sometimes legitimate frustrations concerning what is, or isn't, being taught in the parish school lead parents to opt out of the Catholic school system. Yet one of the principal ways that parents educate their children in the Christian faith is by "participation in the life of the Church" (Compendium, no. 461). Difficulties with the local pastor or school should not create an antagonistic, "separatist" attitude toward one's parish.

We're all homeschoolers. Twenty years ago, I taught a seventh-grade CCD class composed of public school kids. The class met one hour per week during the school year. After one or two classes, it became abundantly clear to me that there were a couple of kids who were being trained well at home and this class merely supplemented and enriched what they already had learned. The rest were religiously illiterate and not getting much out of the class. Upon some inquiry, I found that most of them were not even taken to Mass on Sunday or in any meaningful way catechized at home.

This experience brought "home" to me the reality that "the role of parents in education is of such importance that it is almost impossible to provide an adequate substitute" (Catechism, no. 2221). Other individuals and institutions can help us immensely, but they can't really be expected to compensate for our own failure to educate our children. After all, "family catechesis precedes, accompanies, and enriches other forms of instruction in the faith" (Catechism, no. 2226).

Let's renew our resolve to help our children and grandchildren achieve not only honor rolls and achievement awards, but even more the "crown of life" (Jas 1:12) or "imperishable wreath" (1 Cor 9:25) that awaits God's faithful children.

When Those in Authority Fail

This equality exists, however, amidst distinct, complementary roles in the Church. The Church depends on the ministry of clergy as successors of the Apostles, to whom “Christ has entrusted the office of teaching, sanctifying, and governing in His name and by His power” (Catechism, no. 873). Yet the Church also depends on the apostolate of lay people, who bring the Gospel to their families, neighbors, workplaces, and society in general. The Church is at her evangelistic best when clergy, religious, and laity collaborate harmoniously in fidelity to Christ and without confusion of roles.

I recently read in USA Today that there are now 67.3 million Catholics in the United States alone. Yes, the Church is the Body of Christ and is held together by the Holy Spirit. At the same time, though, she is an enormous human institution with a massive bureaucracy. And tragically, at every level of the Church’s life there are those who do not believe what the Church believes, who do not strive to live in conformity with basic Christian morality, and who in fact have agendas that undermine the Church’s efforts to evangelize.

But even assuming goodwill and a sincere desire to “think with the Church,” conflicts and differences arise that can hinder the Church in fulfilling her mission. A Church that is serious about being universal (i.e., “catholic”) has to face the challenge of holding fast amidst diversity and inevitable human conflict lest Catholic unity devolve into dysfunction or schism.

This can be a particular challenge when those in authority in the local Church seem to be part of the problem. What is the laity to do under those circumstances? I suggest that we learn from the extreme case of David and Saul in 1 Samuel 24.

That’s Saul, Folks!

King Saul and his henchmen are hunting down David and his band of followers. Saul has fallen out of favor with the Lord and has unleashed a demonic quest to kill David. Just two chapters earlier, Saul put to death 85 priests simply because they gave comfort and assistance to David!

For his part, David has been a loyal subject. His defeat of Goliath and other military exploits, however, have only fueled Saul’s envy and malice. King Saul continues his relentless pursuit of David amidst rugged terrain. In this scene, Saul wanders into a cave to “ease nature.” David and his men, unbeknownst to Saul, happen to be hiding in another part of the cave. Here is David’s chance to bring down the wicked king who is doing everything in his power to kill him. David sneaks over to where Saul is and cuts off the end of Saul’s mantle, presumably as proof that he did have the opportunity to kill Saul if he had so chosen. But David quickly regrets doing that, and proceeds to give not only his followers, but all of us, some important lessons.

First, David refuses to harm Saul. Why? Because Saul is the “Lord’s anointed” and a father to him.

Second, David restrains his men and won't permit them to harm Saul. This was a matter of principle, not tactics. And this loyalty isn’t merely a ploy to gain others’ esteem. When David later hears of Saul’s demise, he rends his garments, mourns, weeps, and fasts for his fallen king, and he even puts to death the young Amelekite man who gave the final death blow to Saul because he “desecrated the Lord’s anointed” (2 Sm 1:14-16).

Third, David addresses King Saul in a manner that reflects the respect owed to “the Lord’s anointed.” He calls him “My Lord the King” and later “My Father.” When he gets Saul’s attention, he bows with his face to the earth and shows him reverence. Saul’s manifest unworthiness does not deter David from showing honor to his lawful king.

Fourth, David speaks directly to the king, stating his case clearly and courageously. He is able to point to his impeccable record of loyalty to Saul as he implores him not to listen to those who seek his life. In the end, he places his trust in the Lord to judge the matter rightly, but reiterates that he will not raise his hand against Saul.

David’s words pierce Saul, who calls David his son and acknowledges that David is more righteous than he. Saul’s repentance is short-lived, and shortly thereafter he dies at the hands of the Philistines. David becomes the great king, from whose line would come the Savior of the world.

Closer to Home

Throughout the Bible there are many other important lessons on how to relate to those in authority, especially during times of crisis. From the example of Noah’s faithful sons, who covered their father’s nakedness (Gn 9:23), to our Lord’s pithy command to do as the Pharisees and scribes say but not as they do (Mt 23:1-3), a clear picture develops. This picture is reflected in the constant teaching of the Church, including in our time the documents of Vatican II, the Catechism of the Catholic Church, and the Code of Canon Law.

The “anatomy” of a godly response to Church authority requires not only backbone but also heart — in other words, strength and tenderness rooted in the truth. This is charity in action, which the Catechism calls “the often narrow path between the cowardice which gives in to evil, and the violence which under the illusion of fighting evil only makes it worse” (no. 1889).

I understand that all this might sound good in theory, but what about Bishop So-and-So? What about my pastor, who allows — or even mandates — that X, Y, or Z go on in our parish? At Catholics United for the Faith, we’ve been helping the lay faithful with questions such as these for nearly 40 years. I can't address here all the difficulties that arise on the local level, but I would like to present a few general principles.

First, take personal responsibility. We are responsible for doing our part to build up the Church. Too often I’ve heard people lament at length about the deficiencies of local Church leaders, as though everything rides on them. But the fact is, our baptism gives us the serious right and duty to be “apostles” in accordance with our state in life. We can’t control the actions of others, but we surely can take it upon ourselves to strive to become saints. At the judgment, we will not be asked about our bishop or pastor, but we will be accountable for what we did with our own talents.

Second, offer it up. Difficulties and suffering within the Church can be the very stuff of our redemption. Do we believe that? Are we going to embrace these crosses (even as we legitimately and appropriately address our concerns), or are we going to respond with the “violence” that only makes things worse? Suffering of all kinds is a given in life; we can choose whether in our case it will be redemptive or wasted.

Third, remember the command to honor our fathers. Since bishops and pastors are our spiritual fathers, we are commanded to honor them as such by the Fourth Commandment. The Roman Catechism, issued after the Council of Trent, taught that “Christ the Lord commands obedience even to wicked pastors.” But the Fourth Commandment is a “thou shall” rather than a “thou shall not” commandment. It does not tell us merely to avoid negative behaviors, but rather encourages a healthy, positive loyalty and reverence toward our parents and also our spiritual fathers.

Finally, live the vision. We should pray for an increase of faith, that we might see in our bishops and priests, despite their human frailty and any perceived shortcomings, “the Lord’s anointed.” If we do that, we’re well on our way toward imitating the example of David, who was, to his eternal credit, a man after God’s own heart (Acts 13:22).

© Copyright 2006 Leon J. Suprenant

Leon J. Suprenant, Jr. is the president of Catholics United for the Faith (CUF) and Emmaus Road Publishing and the publisher of Lay Witness magazine, all based in Steubenville, Ohio. He is a contributor to Catholic for a Reason III: Scripture and the Mystery of the Mass and an adviser to CE’s Catholic Scripture Study. His email address is leon@cuf.org.

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