Archive for the Social Justice Category

Dispatches and Prayers From Within The Boston Lockdown

Posted in Social Justice, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on April 19, 2013 by Daniel P. Horan, OFM

20boston_337_ss-slide-7R15-articleLargeI woke up early this morning to an ongoing drama that, objectively speaking, seems like something right out of a movie or a season of the television program “24.” However, being in the heart of this crisis — I currently live a little less-than one mile from where the shootout unfolded last night and the investigation continues in Watertown — I can say that what seems like a movie, what nevertheless appears surreal, is quite real and startling. Things here are extraordinarily quiet, which gives my neighborhood an eerie feel that reinforces the bizarre and tragic events that continue to unfold. I and all of my friends in the area are safe and sound, held up in our respective residences, likely glued to Twitter, Facebook, and news outlets awaiting information that might offer a glimpse of forthcoming normalcy.

It’s hard to believe that more lives have been lost, more fear has been elicited, and a sense of vulnerability and insecurity prevails. At this point, this appears to be caused by one person — let this be a negative lesson about what a difference one person can make. Yet, the converse situation is as true — each person, every person can make a difference for the better too! The way in which the City of Boston and the outlying neighborhoods have responded to the Governor and law-enforcement-agencies’ instructions is impressive. I continue to be proud of my neighbors and fellow residents of this city and I hope and pray that this crisis will come to a safe conclusion soon.

What leads a young man to do something so terrible? Why bring such harm to strangers? These and other questions aren’t easily, if ever, answered. But as Christians, we can — as St. Paul wrote to the Romans, referring the Abraham — “hope against hope.”

Our hope is not an empty hope, a superficial desire to get what we want or “have it our way.” Christian hope finds its foundation in the proclamation that we believe in a God who is for us, who is concerned about us, and who calls us to be agents of God’s Reign.

This Reign of God is exercised in the peacemaking, loving, and reconciling that Francis of Assisi writes about.  This Reign of God is brought to bear in a world that suffers terrible pain and grief as it does today in Boston when we live as the “light of the world” and instruments of peace.

While we in Boston are all affected by this continually unfolding tragedy, let us not grow bitter and closed to the Christian hope that proclaims that death does not have the last word, that light is not overcome by the darkness, and that we can make a difference for the better.

Let us pray for the safety of all in harm’s way, a metanoia of heart for the fleeing suspect, consolation for those who mourn the senseless loss of life and limb, and peace in our city, nation, and world.

Photo: AP

A Sense of Franciscan Ministry in Boston

Posted in Social Justice, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on April 17, 2013 by Daniel P. Horan, OFM

cross-aboutWhile the attention of the world is, for better or worse, focused on the great city of Boston in recent days due to the tragedies surrounding the Boston Marathon bombings on Monday, I thought it might be nice to share with you the Franciscan Campaign Video that was recently released on YouTube. Each year St. Anthony Shrine in Boston, a church and ministry center founded and staffed by Franciscan friars of Holy Name Province (my province) in the heart of downtown Boston. The work that the friars, the staff, and the hundreds of volunteers do each day is absolutely amazing. Lives are impacted for the better each and every day there and I’m incredibly proud of my brother friars and our staff and volunteer colleagues with whom we are all partners in ministry.

When we are faced with the challenge of seeing good amidst the violence and sadness of a time like this week in Boston, it’s good to remember the quiet and dedicated work of the church that continues despite the disruption of the ordinary. Take some time to watch this little video, which — in my opinion — is excellently produced.  It will give you just a small sense of what we Franciscans and our partners in ministry do each and everyday in Boston. If you are able, perhaps you might consider supporting the campaign too, but either way, it’s a heartening sign of God’s work in ministry no less.  Plus, if you pay attention, you might see the recognizable face of a presider during one of the liturgies that is shown in the background at different points in the video!

Franciscans, Social Justice, and the Risk of Martyrdom in Mexico

Posted in Franciscan Spirituality, Social Justice with tags , , , , , on April 8, 2013 by Daniel P. Horan, OFM

stillman-mexico-cartelsA few days ago The New Yorker‘s Sarah Stillman wrote a blog post titled: “What We Want is the Head of the Friar.” It is a piece about a Franciscan friar named Tomás González Castillo, a man who has been running “a sanctuary for U.S.-bound migrants near the Guatemalan border, providing cots, meals, and a few days of safe haven to hundreds of young Central Americans venturing to the U.S. each week.” The journey for these mostly young women and men is often incredibly dangerous, as Stillman explains:

Mostly, these young men and women ride north atop commercial freight trains, facing robberies, rapes, and extortion as they go. Friar Tomás has begun demanding an end to such routinized crimes, calling out the criminal gangs—and, often, the Mexican police—who perpetrate them. The Seventy-Two takes its name from the body count of a massacre that occurred near the U.S. border several years ago; seventy-two migrants were kidnapped by the Zetas, squeezed for ransoms, and allegedly assassinated when they failed to follow orders.

Last week Brother Tomás and his colleagues at the shelter lodged formal complaints against the local gang members and this drew immediate and negative responses from those against whom the complaints had been placed. This has become a source of extortion and ransom for the cartels in Mexico, complicating an already dire situation in which poor women and men in Central America risk their lives to find jobs in the North.

The cartels’ targeting of migrants has become commonplace along the entire route through Mexico, with an estimated twenty thousand migrant kidnappings each year. Most of the time, the victims’ relatives in the U.S. are called upon to cough up ransoms. While the Mexican government has done little to address this crisis, and U.S. immigration policy has arguably fuelled it (by empowering rogue coyotes as a migrant’s best chance of traversing the militarized border), a fearless wing of the Catholic Church has established an underground railroad of sorts to offer migrants protection on their journey.

In an age when many people think that martyrdom is a relic of ancient Christianity, Brother Tomás reflects the conviction of Gospel values and faith in the face of the imminent risk to his very life. Along with colleagues that help run his social justice efforts and care for the marginalized migrants, Brother Tomás goes above and beyond for the sake of others. Stillman explains:

Friar Tomás is among the most vocal leaders of this movement. Day after day, he led the mothers into morgues, prisons, drug-rehabilitation centers, hospitals, and cemeteries. He stood beside them as they looked through photographs of the corpses of migrants in Saltillo, a dangerous Zeta stronghold, and as they ventured into the Zócalo in Mexico City to beg for help from a non-committal government. Most days, the friar wore a thin straw hat and a long brown robe. On the scorching-hot afternoons when I was sweating and tired and could barely keep up, broadsided by the magnitude of the violence and loss, Father Tomás barely paused for water—hiking alongside railroad tracks, knocking on the doors of shantytowns where suspected traffickers lived, showing photos to passersby and asking, “Have you seen her? Does she look familiar? She’s gone missing.”

Stillman ends her post with a striking narrative about how Brother Tomás celebrated Good Friday and what dangers inevitably lie ahead for him as he continues to do the work he feels God has called him to do.

This past Friday, I’m told, Friar Tomás and Rubén walked further into the fire. With hundreds of townspeople, they staged an enactment of the Stations of the Cross, with a migrant-crusaders’ twist. To play Jesus, they enlisted a sixteen-year-old Guatemalan boy named Kevin Barrientos, who had arrived at the shelter with empty pockets on his journey north, trying to make it alive to the U.S. with no parents but two friends. Costumed in a long white robe and turquoise sandals, the boy enacted the crucifixion on the train tracks. Friar Tomás told the Mexican press, “To assist the undocumented is not a crime, it is a grace.” Meanwhile, men believed to be spies for the cartels watched from afar, taking photographs from motorcycles.

Photo: via The New Yorker

Pope Francis and a Powerful ‘Way of the Cross’

Posted in Lent, Pope Francis, Prayer, Social Justice, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on March 29, 2013 by Daniel P. Horan, OFM

Easter Weekend 019Today Pope Francis will lead the annual “Way of the Cross” service in the Colosseum in Rome. As an interesting aside, it was Franciscan friars that popularized the devotional series of meditations known as the “Way of the Cross” in its earliest years because of the in ability of pilgrims to make a physical trip to the Holy Land during the shameful and devastating years of the crusades. Walking the “Way of the Cross” in one’s local church allowed Christians to enter into the experience through imagination, meditation, and prayer. Traditionally, each station included the (real) prayer of St. Francis, also known as St. Francis’s prayer before the crucifix:

We adore You, Most Holy Lord,
Here and in all of your churches throughout the world,
And we bless You, Because by Your Holy Cross
You have redeemed the world.

Since the first versions of the “Way of the Cross” devotions there have been a variety of approaches to the series of meditations that focus on how the prayerful reflection on the Passion of Christ might apply to our times and places. For example, the Maryknoll is sponsoring an “Economic and Ecological Way of the Cross” today in Washington, DC. Others have focused the meditations on the condemnation and suffering of Christ in terms of the violence and suffering of our world today or other injustices that might persist.

This year’s Vatican-sponsored “Way of the Cross” is very social-justice oriented. The meditations and prayers feature reflections on injustices in our world, the recognition of our complicity in systems and acts of injustice, and the hope that we might work for justice and peace with God’s grace. The stations include reflections on today’s tyranny, the suffering of families, homelessness, poverty, the indignity many women experience, the problems of drugs and gangs, and so many other themes. These are well worth reflection and perfect for those looking for something to pray with on this Good Friday.

Station I: Jesus is Condemned to Death

A Reading from the Holy Gospel according to Mark 15:12-13, 15

Pilate again said to them, “Then what shall I do with the man whom you call the King of the Jews?” And they cried out again, “Crucify him.” Pilate, wishing to satisfy the crowd, released for them Barabbas; and having scourged Jesus, he delivered him to be crucified.

From Pilate, the man with power, Jesus ought to have obtained justice. Pilate did indeed have the power to recognize Jesus’ innocence and free him. But the Roman Governor preferred to serve the logic of his personal interests and he yielded to political and social pressures. He condemned an innocent man in order to please the crowd, without satisfying truth. He handed Jesus over to the torment of the Cross, knowing that he was innocent … and then he washed his hands.

In today’s world, there are many “Pilates” who keep their hands on the levers of power and make use of them in order to serve the strongest. There are many who are weak and cowardly before the spectre of power, and mortgage their authority to the service of injustice, trampling upon man’s dignity and his right to life.

Lord Jesus,
do not allow us
to be among those who act unjustly.
Do not allow the strong
to take pleasure in evil,
injustice and tyranny.
Do not allow injustice
to condemn the innocent
to despair and death.
Confirm them in hope
and illumine the consciences
of those with authority in this world,
that they may govern with justice.
Amen.

Read the rest of the “Way of the Cross” Meditations here

Photo: File

Wednesday of Holy Week: A Word to the Weary, The Strength to Carry On

Posted in Social Justice, Uncategorized with tags , , , , on March 27, 2013 by Daniel P. Horan, OFM

Justice of GodToday’s reading from Isaiah seems perfectly fitting for the day. It’s not just that we’re preparing for the Holy Triduum, recalling what we mark tomorrow night in the garden after the Solemnity of the Lord’s Supper or the effect of the betrayal anticipated in today’s Gospel when Judas finalizes the plans and Jesus acknowledges what is to come. It’s that there is a very nuanced and complicated sense to a prophetic passage that I believe speaks to our time and place, particularly as questions about the equal civil rights of all people under the law are being considered in the highest courts of the land.

The prophet Isaiah begins: “The Lord GOD has given me a well-trained tongue, That I might know how to speak to the weary a word that will rouse them.” The question I find myself asking today is: How might I speak to the weary? How can I offer a word that will ‘rouse them?’

This is a question for all Christians, for those who profess faith in a God whose love is so great and gratuitous that the Word Incarnate would refuse no one and who preached, demonstrated, and died for a love that is beyond all telling. This is a question for all Christians, for those who recognize that it is truly and only in Christ that we receive a “peace the world cannot give,” a peace that has been given to us, as we proclaim in the celebration of the Eucharist each time we gather in communion. This is a question for all Christians, especially for those moved by concern for those who are unjustly marginalized, treated as inherently sinful, and against whom discrimination is leveled in a way that we largely recognize as unacceptable in any other context.

As we move through the days of Holy Week, aware of the via crucis that lies ahead, we must ask ourselves about the way of the cross that is the regular commute for so many women and men in our world and local communities. There are the poor and the abused, the voiceless and the ignored, and there are those in our society — perhaps not poor nor necessarily voiceless  – who are nevertheless treated unequally. Regardless of how one views her personal religious beliefs, surely we can come to agree that the love and peace of Christ is not a limited resource to be distributed as those in a majority, those in places of power and influence, and those who otherwise exercise hegemonic control see fit.

When it comes to love and understanding, what would Jesus do?

Yet, the prophet Isaiah does not stop with simply posing the question to us about what word of hope can be offered that might rouse the weary. The servant of God moves forward, striving to recognize the direction and call of the Lord, and accepts the fact that the path won’t be smooth and the journey will be fraught with difficulty.

Morning after morning
he opens my ear that I may hear;
And I have not rebelled,
have not turned back.
I gave my back to those who beat me,
my cheeks to those who plucked my beard;
My face I did not shield
from buffets and spitting.

Can we drink from the cup that Jesus does, that Isaiah’s suffering servant does?

When the struggle for justice, for equal rights under the law, for the amelioration of the human condition in a world of poverty, for the cessation of violence becomes overwhelming and seemingly impossible, who give us the strength to carry on? Isaiah explains:

The Lord GOD is my help,
therefore I am not disgraced;
I have set my face like flint,
knowing that I shall not be put to shame.
He is near who upholds my right;
if anyone wishes to oppose me,
let us appear together.
Who disputes my right?
Let him confront me.

In these complicated days when some work for justice and others work for themselves, the challenge of the prophet rings in the ears of Christians, or should anyway. Can we face those who would put us to shame for preaching the love of Christ? Can we appear together with those who dispute our rights as children of God defending the rights of all? Can we set our faces like flint in the encounter of confrontation?

The closing lines of today’s First Reading offer me the tentative answer to the question about how any of this is or will be possible, how one can find the strength to carry on and speak a word to the weary.

See, the Lord GOD is my help;
who will prove me wrong?

Photo: Stock

Pope Francis on Power, the Poor, and all Creation

Posted in Franciscan Spirituality, Huffington Post, Pope Francis, Social Justice, The Papal Watcher with tags , , , , , , on March 19, 2013 by Daniel P. Horan, OFM

Pope FrancisI know it seems a bit early for such enthusiastic endorsements of a pontiff who has only been in the office of Bishop of Rome for less-than-a-week, and I do have my own cautionary concerns, but I have to say that there is something immediately and recognizably affable about Pope Francis. His presence has indicated as much, certainly to the chagrin of the security guards entrusted with his care, as he has shirked the traditionally requisite boundaries and protections that ordinarily separates — if only for the ostensible sake of security — the pope from the rest of the People of God. This guy doesn’t seem to care about his own safety, but rather recognizes that, as the Jesuits say, “the greater glory of God” requires relationship, embrace, love, support, and care. He comes across as a pastor and good one at that.

Pope Francis’s homily for the “Inaugural Mass of Petrine Ministry,” drew on the readings from scripture for the Solemnity of St. Joseph. The connecting thematic thread throughout his accessible and down-to-earth reflections was that of Joseph-as-protector.

This is a particularly fecund image for a man who, as the visible leader of more than 1.2 billion Catholics worldwide, understands his ministry as especially directed toward the protection of the poor and marginalized of our planet. What was especially striking, and something that I found particularly exciting, was the centrality of the rest of other-than-human creation in the pope’s considerations on what it means to follow the example of St. Joseph as protector.

How does Joseph exercise his role as protector? Discreetly, humbly and silently, but with an unfailing presence and utter fidelity, even when he finds it hard to understand…

Joseph is a “protector” because he is able to hear God’s voice and be guided by his will; and for this reason he is all the more sensitive to the persons entrusted to his safekeeping. He can look at things realistically, he is in touch with his surroundings, he can make truly wise decisions. In him, dear friends, we learn how to respond to God’s call, readily and willingly, but we also see the core of the Christian vocation, which is Christ! Let us protect Christ in our lives, so that we can protect others, so that we can protect creation!

The vocation of being a “protector”, however, is not just something involving us Christians alone; it also has a prior dimension which is simply human, involving everyone. It means protecting all creation, the beauty of the created world, as the Book of Genesis tells us and as Saint Francis of Assisi showed us. It means respecting each of God’s creatures and respecting the environment in which we live. It means protecting people, showing loving concern for each and every person, especially children, the elderly, those in need, who are often the last we think about. It means caring for one another in our families: husbands and wives first protect one another, and then, as parents, they care for their children, and children themselves, in time, protect their parents. It means building sincere friendships in which we protect one another in trust, respect, and goodness. In the end, everything has been entrusted to our protection, and all of us are responsible for it. Be protectors of God’s gifts!

As a Franciscan friar and one particularly interested in the construction of a more authentic Christian theology of creation, the fact that Pope Francis does seem to be filling the shoes of his saintly namesake is quite moving. What he describes, correctly and prophetically, is not the responsibility of just the pope or of a few individuals, but the vocation of all. This is something that is not often recognized and the consequences are dire: “Whenever human beings fail to live up to this responsibility, whenever we fail to care for creation and for our brothers and sisters, the way is opened to destruction and hearts are hardened.”

He continued to reiterate the central place of creation in the human vocation to follow Christ and to be models of protection, care, tenderness, and love after the example of St. Joseph.

Please, I would like to ask all those who have positions of responsibility in economic, political and social life, and all men and women of goodwill: let us be “protectors” of creation, protectors of God’s plan inscribed in nature, protectors of one another and of the environment. Let us not allow omens of destruction and death to accompany the advance of this world! But to be “protectors”, we also have to keep watch over ourselves! Let us not forget that hatred, envy and pride defile our lives! Being protectors, then, also means keeping watch over our emotions, over our hearts, because they are the seat of good and evil intentions: intentions that build up and tear down! We must not be afraid of goodness or even tenderness!

Pope Francis acknowledged the reality of power in the leadership position with which he has been entrusted: “we are celebrating the beginning of the ministry of the new Bishop of Rome, the Successor of Peter, which also involves a certain power.”

Power plays a central theme in the life of St. Francis of Assisi. St. Francis’s whole program of vita evangelica, the “Gospel Life,” was about the renunciation of power that placed barriers between him and others, him and God, and him and the rest of creation.

Pope Francis seems to understand the significance of his name and its implications for exercise of power. It is about loving, humble service!

Certainly, Jesus Christ conferred power upon Peter, but what sort of power was it? Jesus’ three questions to Peter about love are followed by three commands: feed my lambs, feed my sheep. Let us never forget that authentic power is service, and that the Pope too, when exercising power, must enter ever more fully into that service which has its radiant culmination on the Cross. He must be inspired by the lowly, concrete and faithful service which marked Saint Joseph and, like him, he must open his arms to protect all of God’s people and embrace with tender affection the whole of humanity, especially the poorest, the weakest, the least important, those whom Matthew lists in the final judgment on love: the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick and those in prison (cf. Mt 25:31-46). Only those who serve with love are able to protect!

Toward the end of his homily, Pope Francis lays out what he understands the responsibility of the Bishop of Rome to entail, and it includes creation first and foremost! “To protect Jesus with Mary, to protect the whole of creation, to protect each person, especially the poorest, to protect ourselves: this is a service that the Bishop of Rome is called to carry out, yet one to which all of us are called, so that the star of hope will shine brightly. Let us protect with love all that God has given us!”

Photo: Pool

Dating God Podcast #23 — Pope Francis and Latin America with David Golemboski

Posted in Dating God Podcast, Pope Francis, Social Justice, The Papal Watcher with tags , , , , , , , , on March 19, 2013 by Daniel P. Horan, OFM

0313-POPE-FRANCIS-JORGE-MARIO-BERGOGLIO-LATIN-AMERICA_full_600In this episode of the Dating God Podcast we are joined by David Golemboski, a doctoral student in the Government School at Georgetown University in Washington, DC, who specializes in political theory and Catholic Social Teaching. David published an article in a January issue of America magazine titled: “Still ‘Presente’? U.S Catholics Should Reconnect with Latin America.” David joined Fr. Dan on the podcast to discuss the recent election of Pope Francis and what having a Roman Pontiff from South America might mean for Catholics in the United States and those in other parts of the Americas.

Listen to the podcast online (streaming)

Subscribe to the podcast on iTunes (iTunes website)

Photo: Christian Science Monitor

Living La Vida Justicia: Reconsidering Pope Francis and Liberation Theology

Posted in Social Justice, The Papal Watcher, Uncategorized with tags , , , , on March 17, 2013 by Daniel P. Horan, OFM

pope_Francis_subwayThere has been so much in the Catholic and popular (aka: “secular”) media coverage about Pope Francis, his past, his thoughts, his writings, his actions, and what the future holds for him, that it can be difficult to untangle the various threads of information (such as why he decided to select the name “Francis” in the hours and days after the election) and misinformation (such as the Cardinal Law banishment rumors of recent days). An interesting story was published today by Laurie Goodstein, the New York Times religion reporter who has a very hot-and-cold history with the Roman Catholic Church, especially in the United States and particularly after the sex-abuse cover up crisis of recent decades (not all her facts have been spot-on and subsequent corrections in the Times often go unannounced in hidden parts of the newspaper afterward).  Nevertheless, her latest piece titled, “New Pope Puts Spotlight on Jesuits, an Influential Yet Self-Effacing Order” is, for the most part, very good.

Goodstein draws on a number of very reliable sources in her presentation of the significance and, let’s face it, utter surprise that a Jesuit Cardinal would be selected to be pope. She spoke with a number of insightful European and American Jesuits (including Fr. James Martin, SJ, a well-known Jesuit in the US), who offered helpful background on the various factors that led to this surprise election of Pope Francis.

One thing, though, was mentioned at the end of her piece and in passing. It is something that has been repeated without much qualification over the last week in various summary news stories. Namely, that Pope Francis as a then-Jesuit-Provincial-Superior and, later, a Cardinal Archbishop, was hostile or rejected liberation theology. This is a very simplified presentation of a complicated set of conditions and factors. Part of the confusion, it seems to me, is what it means to talk about “rejecting” liberation theology — it also seems to rely strongly, if unacknowledged, on the interpretation of liberation theology and its reception according to the various commentators.

Here’s what Goodstein wrote in the Times:

The selection has thrilled many Jesuits, but dismayed others. Shaped by their experiences with the poor and powerless, many Jesuits lean liberal, politically and theologically, and are more concerned with social and economic justice than with matters of doctrinal purity. Jesuits were in the forefront of the movement known as liberation theology, which encouraged the oppressed to unite along class lines and seek change.

However, Francis, when he was head of the Jesuits in Argentina in the 1970s, was opposed to liberation theology, seeing it as too influenced by Marxist politics. The future pope came down hard on Jesuits in his province who were liberation theology proponents and left it badly divided, according to those who study the order and some members who did not want to be identified because he is now pope.

Goodstein very accurately describes the “mixed feelings” of many who heard these early reports about the new pope’s previous engagement with so-called “liberation theology” in Argentina during his tenure as Provincial and then Archbishop. But, I would suggest, this needs a much more nuanced interpretation — something that cannot be done in a paragraph or two in a major newspaper’s article and is impossible in a twenty-second cable-news soundbite.

What I mean by this call for an openness in complex thinking and nuanced approaches to the new pope’s relationship to liberation theology involves a few guiding principles.

First, what do we mean when we use a hegemonic and singular umbrella term like “liberation theology?” Are we referring to the particular texts that arose in the 1960s and 1970s from the academic and professional theologians like Gustavo Gutiérrez and Leonardo Boff? Both of whose work, by the way, varies in style, method, and outcome. Do we mean the pastoral legacy of the slain Archbishop of San Salvador, Oscar Romero? Do we mean the Jesuits and diocesan priests who took up arms in El Salvador against the will of Romero who, according to the critiques of now-Pope Francis, would also be labeled “hostile to liberation theology?” What exactly do we mean?

Second, how are judgements made about what it means to “support,” “oppose,” “reject,” or “be hostile toward,” liberation theology in its manifold iterations? Without a very clearly defined notion of what it is we mean when we talk univocally about a broad (and continually growing) academic and pastoral field of social-justice concerns and contextual theology, it is nearly impossible to make an accurate statement about whether one is for or against this or that.

Third, what does someone’s lived experience say about the person we claim is for or against a given theological or pastoral opinion? I am reminded of the Gospel parable of the two sons who are told by their father to go into the field to labor.

A man had two sons. He came to the first and said, ‘Son, go out and work in the vineyard today.’ He said in reply, ‘I will not,’ but afterwards he changed his mind and went. The man came to the other son and gave the same order. He said in reply, ‘Yes, sir,’ but did not go. Which of the two did his father’s will?” They answered, “The first.” Jesus said to them, “Amen, I say to you, tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God before you. (Matt 21:29-31)

Just because someone “talks the talk” (in this case, perhaps, the ecclesiastical “party line” about liberation theology in general following the two CDF documents on the subject) doesn’t mean that someone “walks the walk.” Actions speak louder than words and are more indicative of what someone actually believes. Francis of Assisi is often attributed as saying, “Preach the Gospel at all times and, if necessary, use words.” He never said that. But he did say in the First Rule of the Friars Minor: “Let all the brothers, however, preach by their deeds” (Regula non bullata, XVII:3).

Pope Francis may have acted in ways that, due to the complexities of his role in leadership and the decisions of those in his care, might not have pleased some who understood “liberation theology” in a particular way. However, I think that taking all three of these points into consideration allows us to look at the life, the actions, the example, and the intentions of a man whose heart was imbued with the evangelical poverty that Francis of Assisi always strove to preach: in word and deed.

Pope Francis’s explanation about his choice of the name “Francis” to the world media this week highlights this truth most succinctly and illustrates how the pope sees social justice, solidarity with the poor, and the work of liberation from injustice at the heart of his ministry and at the core of the church.

And those words came to me: the poor, the poor. Then, right away, thinking of the poor, I thought of Francis of Assisi. Then I thought of all the wars, as the votes were still being counted, till the end. Francis is also the man of peace. That is how the name came into my heart: Francis of Assisi. For me, he is the man of poverty, the man of peace, the man who loves and protects creation; these days we do not have a very good relationship with creation, do we? He is the man who gives us this spirit of peace, the poor man … How I would like a Church which is poor and for the poor!

It is too early for people to make bold claims that need more qualifications than most are willing to allow. To say that Pope Francis “opposes liberation theology” is to oversimplify a reality that is preached in action and deed. Let’s look at the whole picture.

This post was also published concurrently on the America Magazine website.

Photo: Wire

Christianity and Repealing the Second Amendment

Posted in America Magazine, Social Justice, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on February 22, 2013 by Daniel P. Horan, OFM

gun_violenceIt is quite astonishing how some of the most radical and justice-based ideas of the last two-and-a-half centuries have elicited some of the most vitriolic responses imaginable. That no human beings should be treated as chattel, to be owned and sold, abused and dehumanized. That women should have the right to vote and participate in society as full citizens. And now, that private gun ownership should be prohibited apart from a few reasonable exceptions for hunting and certain sporting activities.

Each of these things sought to be overturned were previously enshrined in the Constitution of the United States: Slavery was legal; women could not vote; private citizens had the right to not have their ownership of firearms infringed. That last one is, of course, in order to keep a “well regulated militia” and the type of “arms” that were described muskets and not semi-automatic handguns, but that’s getting ahead of myself.

Last week the editors of America magazine published a bold editorial titled, “Repeal the Second Amendment.” In it they unmask a number of unsightly truths that gun-ownership advocates wish to ignore or deny. One is the (il)logic of popular constitutional and social perception, which leads to a circular sense of problem-solution responses summarized by the editors in the following way:

 The culture of violence in America has spawned a deadly syllogism: Guns solve problems; we have problems; therefore, we need guns. Yet consider the tragedy in Aurora. Imagine if just 10 other people in that movie theater had been carrying guns. In the confusion of the onslaught, would fewer people or more people have died when those 10 other people opened fire in the dark? More important, is this really the kind of world we want to live in, a world in which lethal power can be unleashed at any moment at any corner, in any home, in any school?

They continue from this point, after already laying out other statistical evidence that begs our need to question the maintenance of outmoded and, frankly, dangerous right that I personally associated with the “right to own slave” and the “right of only men to vote.” Gun ownership made sense in a seventeenth-century milieu at a time when this fledgling colonial rebellion was reacting to threats that can never be the concern of the only imperial superpower currently present on this planet.

The editors summarize their proposal here:

Both Australia and Britain, for example, experienced gun massacres in 1996 and subsequently enacted stricter gun control laws. Their murder rates dropped. Yet in the United States, the birthplace of pragmatism, our fundamental law proscribes practical, potentially life-saving measures.

Americans must ask: Is it prudent to retain a constitutionally guaranteed right to bear arms when it compels our judges to strike down reasonable, popularly supported gun regulations? Is it moral to inhibit in this way the power of the country’s elected representatives to provide for the public safety? Does the threat of tyranny, a legitimate 18th-century concern but an increasingly remote, fanciful possibility in the contemporary United States, trump the grisly, daily reality of gun violence? The answer to each of these questions is no. It is time to face reality. If the American people are to confront this scourge in any meaningful way, then they must change. The Constitution must change. The American people should repeal the Second Amendment.

I agree entirely.

By way of full disclosure I should acknowledge that I am a staff columnist for America magazine, however I am not an editor nor on the editorial board, so I first read this editorial when everybody else had occasion to do so. Not everything expressed in the magazine’s editorials always reflect my personal opinion, just as not everything I write reflects that of the editorial board’s opinion. Nevertheless, on this point I’m in full agreement!

The editorial brings up very good points as far as constitutional law and the history of amendment and repeal are concerned. For example, the editors, having acknowledged the gravity of their proposition, explain:

The Bill of Rights enumerates our most cherished freedoms. Any proposal to change the nation’s fundamental law is a very serious matter. We do not propose this course of action in a desultory manner, nor for light or transient reasons. We also acknowledge that repeal faces serious, substantial political obstacles and will prove deeply unpopular with many Americans. Nevertheless, we believe that repeal is necessary and that it is worthy of serious consideration.

Our proposal is in keeping, moreover, with the spirit in which the Constitution was drafted. The Bill of Rights belongs to a document that was designed to be changed; indeed, it was part of the genius of our founders to allow for a process of amendment. The process is appropriately cumbersome, but it is not impossible. Since its adoption in 1787, the American people have chosen to amend the Constitution 27 times. A century ago, leaders like Theodore Roosevelt and Woodrow Wilson raised serious questions about the Consti-tution. Amendments soon followed, including provisions for a federal income tax, the direct election of U.S. senators, women’s suffrage and the prohibition of alcohol. The 21st Amendment, which repealed prohibition, established the precedent for our proposal.

Yet, despite their absolutely legitimate point about the possibility of such repeal, albeit a far chance in our contemporary political and social climate, what I find most convincing is the truth that I have often times reflected on here on this very blog: Whether or not all people can agree in a pluralist democratic society to repeal the second amendment (or at least pass stricter gun-control laws), Christians have no choice in the matter — to be Christian is to be nonviolent and that Gospel commitment to nonviolence bears certain practical implications that we must peacefully pursue.

This is something that Roman Catholic bishops have reiterated time and again. The editors remind us that, “In the most comprehensive statement on gun violence to come from the U.S. bishops’ conference, in 1975, a committee identified ‘the easy availability of handguns in our society’ as a major threat to human life and called for ‘effective and courageous action to control handguns, leading to their eventual elimination from our society’ with ‘exceptions…for the police, military, security guards’ and sporting clubs.”

Furthermore, in recent times, prominent Catholic leaders have reiterated this point, as the America editors explain:

In a recent interview, Tommaso Di Ruzza, the expert on disarmament and arms control at the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace, explained that an individual does not possess an absolute natural right to own a lethal weapon: “There is a sort of natural right to defend the common interest and the common good” by the limited use of force, but this applies more to nations with an effective rule of law, not armed individuals. In the wake of Newtown, Cardinal Timothy M. Dolan said that “the fight for greater gun control in the country” is a pro-life position. “The unfettered access to assault weapons and handguns, along with the glorification of violence in our ‘entertainment’ industry…is really all part of a culture of death,” Cardinal Dolan said.

I can say a lot more and in the future I have no doubt that I will, here on DatingGod.org and elsewhere. For the time being, I wanted to officially go on the record to offer my support and explicit endorsement of this proposal. I, too, feel that the Second Amendment should be repealed. Those who have already leveled their uncharitable remarks at me for informal allusions to this proposal have, it seems, made the Constitution and the Second Amendment of that document into an idol. They have replaced the right of a nation-state to self-govern with the right to defend one’s self (from what exactly?) at any cost. They have replaced, as Stanley Hauerwas and other theologians have so keenly pointed out, the God of Jesus Christ with the “god of America.”

I worship the God of Jesus Christ, not the god of America. I recognize my baptismal vocation to follow in the footprints of Christ according to the Gospel, not defend outmoded “rights” that cause or world and society to be less-safe, more violent, and increasingly representative of a “culture of death.” I believe that Christians have no other choice but to support such a reasonable, if serious, measure. What Would Jesus Do?

Yes, repeal the Second Amendment.

Photo: Stock

The ‘March for Life’ and My Enduring Incredulity

Posted in Social Justice, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , on January 25, 2013 by Daniel P. Horan, OFM

march for lifeLast year on the day of the annual “March for Life” in Washington, DC, I wrote a blog post titled, “Why I do not support the (so-called) March for Life.” It received a lot of attention, including an article in the National Catholic Reporter that same day, “On this March for Life day, a reasoned discussion on abortion,” which generously praised my essay for its “reasonable and calmly articulated approach to an issue which has sometimes led to divisive intra-church arguments.”

On this website alone (DatingGod.org), the post elicited 139 comments that express a variety of opinions. This week I have been asked by a number of people whether I would write another post today on the same theme, but have decided not to do so. There are several reasons for this decision; the first of which is that I do not have much more to say on the subject, at least at this point. I still struggle to make sense of the resources, time, and energy that go into this particular event each year, while other equally pressing issues go unaddressed, unacknowledged, or unfunded. As I say in the introduction to this essay, I am not suggesting that there is anything inherently wrong with taking a public stance against abortion as women and men of faith, but I do continue to have questions about the manner and means by which this effort is currently executed. Here’s what I say in the essay, now published in the book, Franciscan Spirituality for the 21st Century: Selected Reflections from the Dating God Blog and Other Essays:

To begin, I have no problem with people of faith taking a public stance against abortion. You will never find me supporting abortion legislation nor encouraging those with and for whom I minister as a Roman Catholic cleric to support abortion. I believe it is a legitimate issue against which, as a Christian and Roman Catholic, I feel should be a thematic feature of social transformation. However, it is not, at all, the most important issue, nor is it the single issue upon which Catholics – or anyone – should focus their attention s in an exclusive manner.

Abortion belongs to a series of social sins of a systemic degree that include capital punishment, war and violence, limitation of social services for the least among us, economic inequality, abject poverty, and other threats to the dignity of human persons in our culture and globalized world (72-73).

As you can tell, I recognize very overtly the ostensible impetus for the “March for Life” and affirm the place it has among those social and individual sins that are in need of address. However, I’m not at all willing to subordinate the rest of the seamless garment of the consistent ethic of life in order to elevate one issue. It can be misleading, which is why I suggest in this essay that there are many reasons why one can be sympathetic to the cause but withhold support for the event.

Among the various reasons one might chose to omit him or herself from participation, I wish to highlight three: (a) the event’s moniker is incomplete at best and disingenuous at worst; (b) the mode of protest has proven ineffective; and, following the second point, (c) the ‘march’ and its related events are a self-serving exercise in self-righteousness, self-congratulatory grandstanding (72).

Today, while many gather in the United States capital for Masses and marching, perhaps it is worth considering what it is we’re really doing, what purposes and people are served by what we’re doing, and whether or not we should consider other ways to do something more constructively, more open to a consistent ethic of life, and more humbly.

The full text of “Why I do not Support the (so-called) March for Life” is available in the book Franciscan Spirituality for the 21st Century: Selected Reflections from the Dating God Blog and Other Essayswhich can also be found for the Kindle and at Barnes and Noble.

Photo: File
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