Peter Steinfels, co-founder of the Fordham Center on Religion and Culture and a former editor of Commonweal, is the author of A People Adrift: The Crisis of the Roman Catholic Church in America.
By this author
Are there still liberals willing to speak up for religious freedom? I don’t know whether the religious freedom bill passed and signed in Indiana last week—and now reportedly up for revision—is a good measure. I do know that, however one precisely balances out the pros and cons of the bill, it does involve religious freedom.
That was not the perspective of the front-page story in Saturday’s New York Times, which framed the bill as one more tactic for discriminating against gay couples. Conservatives opposed to same-sex marriage were “invoking ‘religious freedom’ as their last line of defense.”
No doubt some conservatives would invoke anything short of global warning as a last-line defense against same-sex marriage. But is it really beyond imagining that many conservatives and non-conservatives, too, might be genuinely agitated about religious freedom for its own sake? Certainly beyond imagining by Hillary Clinton, who was quick to tweet, “Sad this new Indiana law can happen in America today.” Beyond imagining by all the technology, business, and sports and entertainment eminences now bullying Indiana with boycotts, not that these folks ever cared much (or knew much) about religious freedom in the first place.
The Times news story devoted almost two thirds of its coverage to these critics, far more than to any supporters or to Indiana’s governor. It did spare two paragraphs for a quote from Douglas Laycock, one of the nation’s foremost church-state scholars. “The hysteria over this law is so unjustified,” he said, rejecting the anti-gay sentiments being attributed to it.
“When Liberals Blew It” was the headline on Nicholas Kristof’s March 12 column in The New York Times. The headline referred to the moment fifty years ago when liberals treated Daniel Patrick Moynihan as a racist for proposing in a Labor Department report—eventually known as the “Moynihan Report”—that family disarray and the growth of single-parent households among African-Americans were reaching what would now be called a “tipping point.” The leading factors countering black poverty—primarily male employment—were in danger of losing traction. National action was imperative.
That Moynihan was right in broaching the delicate subject of the relationship of family breakdown and poverty has been acknowledged all over the place—half a century too late, some might say, but in fact the acknowledgements have come steadily over the decades. Kristof, one of our best columnists, was condensing a complicated story into a brief column, which didn’t do justice to all the details. One liberal voice, for instance, that didn’t “blow it” was Commonweal’s.
Obviously the biggest recent story of "religion, politics & culture" -- Commonweal's "specialty" -- occurred in Paris in the last week. There have been a number of intelligent comments and more are needed.
At Mass this morning, we remembered Mario Cuomo in our prayers. May he rest in peace. He was a brilliant, thoughtful, gifted politician, and a good man. He could powerfully articulate ideals and also mediate compromises, no small abilities and all too seldom found together. He also maintained an extensive, friendly, always civil although not always harmonious relationship with Commonweal. No wonder he is being remembered as the very model of a liberal Catholic. About that, however, I have my doubts.
Of course, we won’t know the truth about this complex individual until his private papers can be plumbed by biographers, and even then I wonder if there will be one sufficiently versed in Catholic matters to get beyond the idea that anyone who disagrees with bishops about abortion is ipso facto a liberal Catholic. Especially if he or she uses words like ipso facto.
Liberal Catholic is a stance built in good part on some important distinctions about how religiously grounded moral beliefs relate to law and the state. Here Cuomo doubtlessly qualified. He made important statements about those subjects. But it was not always easy to reconcile his statements with his actions as a political leader. The difficulty became most striking in the contrast between his courageous defiance of public opinion and political expedience in the case of capital punishment and his equivocating conformity in the case of abortion. The contrast led some people to consider his views hypocritical, others to consider them just incoherent. I think that they made a lot more sense if one recognized that, for all his quoting of Teilhard de Chardin, Mario remained an old-fashioned pre-Vatican II Catholic, a variant of what Jay Dolan, writing of Catholic immigrants and their offspring, termed “devotional Catholicism.” When it comes to discerning moral teaching in this view of the church, there is a sharp division of labor. The hierarchy teaches; the laity apply—with prudence. In this view, when confronted with a complicated moral problem, one does not think with the church, one agrees with the church. It took me awhile to learn this lesson about Cuomo.
During my half century of life in New York City, race relations here have gone through many ups and downs. One reliable contributor to the downs has been the Rev. Al Sharpton. Sharpton is to racial understanding what Rupert Murdoch is to the news media or steroids to batting records. Others have drawn larger conclusions about Sharpton’s ascent from a demagogue inflaming the tragic Tawana Brawley fraud to Official African-American Leader at the side of Mayor Bill de Blasio or President Obama. For myself, I can only say (1) nothing else can inject doubts in my mind about some case of apparent racial injustice as quickly as Sharpton’s arrival on the scene, and (2) this cat really does have nine lives.
The latter reality is being demonstrated by Sharpton’s casual dismissal of a New York Times report that he owes millions of dollars in unpaid taxes, to say nothing of other debts—and Mayor de Blasio’s rush to his defense. “I know a lot of good people who ran into one kind of problem or another with their taxes.” A million here, a million there, good to have a mayor who stands up for the little guy.
Despite my criticism of Ross Douthat’s history of recent American religion, I look forward to his columns in the Sunday New York Times. Even when seriously wrong, they are almost always usefully (and enjoyably) contrarian to the paper’s dominant worldview. Compared to the portrait of the Synod appearing elsewhere in the Times, for example, Douthat’s analysis last Sunday was certainly contrarian. And no less certainly also seriously wrong.
Let’s review Douthat’s argument before offering a critique.
There were only two obituaries in the New York Times on Tuesday, August 12. One was of Robin Williams, starting on the front page and continuing inside at great length. The other was of a friend and occasional contributor to Commonweal, Dotty Lynch.
If anyone were keeping a list of Flimsiest Religious Exposes of the Year, here is a contender. It’s a report from CNN’s Belief Blog exposing “The Lavish Homes of American Archbishops,” and it is now eliciting predictably self-righteous comments around the Web.
It’s a pretty pretentious piece of work, complete with photos that will shock almost everyone who has never driven through an upscale neighborhood and concluding with a bragging note on “How We Reported This Story.”
“Records reveal that 10 of the country's top church leaders defy the Pope's example and live in residences worth more than $1 million,” the story begins breathlessly.
“Defy” the Pope’s example? $1 million? Please remember that the infamous German “Bishop of Bling” whom Francis ousted was spending $43 million to remodel a palatial residence, $300,000 for a new fish tank, $2.38 million for bronze window frames, almost $1 million for the garden, etc., etc.
If you know anything about real estate prices and about the number of archdiocesan residences built in the day when American Catholics expected their leaders to live like VIPs, as well as about the number of archbishops’ residences that also house offices, reception areas, chapels, and rooms for other priests—well, then, you might be surprised that CNN’s Belief Blog found only ten of 34 archbishops so shamefully lodged. Certainly I was. And I suspect CNN was also.
Today I have been doing my best to fast and pray for peace in Syria, the Middle East, and the world as the pope, seconded by our bishops, asked us to do. But my prayer and fasting are agitated by concerns that take quite a different turn from those of many of my closest friends and those of many voices on this blog.
Some days ago, when I began turning all these things over in my mind, I basically thought the Obama administration, for all the reasons that it has given, was doing the right thing, including requesting congressional approval. I recognized reasonable objections to taking a limited, punitive military action against the Assad regime for its breaking yet another barrier to total depravity in warfare. To my thinking, and I did quite a bit of thinking, those arguments against acting were less substantial than the argument for acting. As of this moment, I am less sure, largely because of the President’s inability to rally more international support.
But I am far less concerned to add my own arguments to ones that are being advanced all over the place than to look at something else. What I sense going on and what I have been including in my prayers does not have much to do with any careful weighing of reasons. It is a mood, a reflex, a gut reaction, and it resembles all too much a state of mind I spent years studying. We complain, not quite fairly, that generals always refight the last war. But to the extent that it is true of generals, it is no less true of anti-war activists. They are always opposing the last war.
The steady streams of recollections and images from the March on Washington, as well as the posts here at dotCommonweal, have been valuable and moving. But I was taken by this small story of one man's experience of that historic day'. Maurice Berube, now an emeritus professor at Old Dominion University, was an activist in the Catholic trade union movement, an educator, and a frequent contributor to Commonweal. He is also the author of thirteen books. Mo's account appeared the other day in the Virginian Pilot:
"I remember Aug. 28, 1963 as one of the most glorious days of my life," Mo begins, "but one of the most fearsome nights.
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