For Catholic men in America, these seem like dark days indeed. The abuse scandal has cast a pall over the priesthood and, by extension, has lessened the Faith’s appeal to many men. Who knows how many conversions or reversions it has stopped in their tracks? How many men who were on the brink of playing a more active role in their parishes have turned away in disgust?
However, an old football coach of mine, who was in perhaps the number one business for talking in clichés, was fond of saying, “Why do you think it got to be a cliché? ‘Cause it’s true!” So it is with a fair measure of confidence that I remind myself and others that it truly is darkest before the dawn. God willing, we are on the brink of what the Holy Father has called the “Springtime of Evangelization.”
It is no secret that church-going is, in some parts of the Catholic world, viewed as an activity for women and children. Fortunately, that has never been the case in the United States, at least not in anything approaching the same degree. But speaking as a 35-year-old man who grew up in the Church, I can admit to experiencing a certain disconnect at times between the demands of a Christian life and those of a manly one. Though certainly part of the problem is rooted in my own pride and lack of understanding, truth be told, in many ways, Catholicism, or, more accurately, its practice in this country, has been feminized for the past thirty or forty years. The crisis of manhood that the larger population has experienced has undoubtedly infected the Church and affected the faith life of Catholic men.
What a tragedy this is! For Christianity to be viewed as namby-pamby, effeminate, or at odds with the life a man leads outside of church is outrageous. Outrageous because untrue! The old play on words, “St. Francis is a sissy,” though meant in fun, does a disservice to that great man of God who had the faith, courage and strength of will to imitate Christ in a fashion few can match.
Even the most cursory study of Church history reveals that not only are Catholicism and manhood not opposed, but, rather, the Faith, with its radical demands of self-donation and fortitude, elicits heroism in a variety of guises: the courage under fire, literally, of the martyrs; the willingness to go into unknown lands to spread the Good News of the missionary; the less dramatic, but no less important task of evangelizing our neighbors; and the more private action of disciplining ourselves in every aspect of our lives for the benefit of our wives, our children, and society.
I have heard that the blockbuster film Gangs of New York dramatized an incident largely unknown to even American Catholics. In the mid-1800s, at a time when nativist fear and hatred of foreigners, especially Catholics, ran high, mobs were running roughshod over “papists” in the streets and threatening to destroy churches. Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love, saw the worst of the violence. The times called for a man, and the Church in New York City had such a one in Archbishop John Hughes, who called upon the poor immigrants to defend their churches with force if necessary.
Today the Church also needs her men, albeit for a different type of defense. She is calling her sons to defend her, but like another old football cliché that tells us the best defense is a good offense, she wants us to go on the offensive, not with sticks and crowbars, but with Bibles and catechisms. She is calling us to return to Mass and the sacraments, to live our faith in our daily lives, and, yes, to defend her against unjust attacks and vilification. This is a great time to be a Catholic man in America, for we are needed. Will we answer the call with a response suited to our time and situation?
And, lest one still thinks that Catholicism and manhood are at odds, most people are aware, if only dimly, that the icon of the American tough guy, John Wayne, died a Catholic. If it’s man enough for the Duke, it’s man enough for me.
John Moorehouse is the editor of Catholic Men’s Quarterly. To learn more about the magazine, visit the website.
