What better example of a mountain-top man than the recently deceased Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI?
I confess I mistakenly saw him through the lens of the media, who wanted to dwell on his social conservatism, and of the American conservative Catholics who celebrated his liturgical embrace of traditional worship. We saw Cardinal Ratzinger through the eyes of those who interpreted him, and that continued into his pontificate.
He was on the mountaintop, and neither the Left nor the Right, in their respective valley villages, got the full picture, myself included. I despaired at his papal election, and cried tears of joy at the news of white smoke for Pope Francis, not realizing how similar their basic theology was—how solidly situated in the post-Vatican II Church, along with his predecessor, Saint Pope John Paul II. Situated, as well, in the over-100-year tradition of social justice teaching in the Church, beginning with Pope Leo XIII.
While all three popes have toed the line when it comes to the Church’s teaching on sexual morality, even if Francis emphasizes a pastoral approach over a legalistic one, all three have also held fast to a unified vision of social justice—a teaching sometimes ignored by both media and conservative Catholics.
I remember listening to Pope John Paul II’s talks at the 1993 World Youth Day in Denver, since my daughter was there among the thousands of youth from around the world. While the press besieged him with questions about birth control and abortion, knowing how their American viewers would be looking for cracks in Church doctrine or excuses to dismiss the Church as rigid and out of touch, I heard what he said about society and the common good, about justice and love of neighbor.
Did I imagine that? An article by Mark Engler and John Gershman for the Institute for Policy Studies written a few months after his death assures me that no. They recall: “Particularly in his teachings about the global economy, the Pope advanced a vision of social justice that challenges the current, narrow political debate about ‘moral values.’“
Likewise, Pope Emeritus Benedict takes up the Church’s teaching on social justice in his encyclical letter Caritas in Veritate, Love in Truth, where he situates truth-based love at the center of the Church’s social teaching. Unlike those who juxtapose charity and justice, Benedict fuses the two. Justice must be infused with charity/love, and love must take its place in the public sphere, where it joins justice.
The public sphere goes beyond the individual charity of a Mother Teresa, laudable as that was. I do not agree with those who downplay her work for not having changed systems of oppression, resistant as these are to bending. She did what she could, and established a ministry in the persons of women who would take her work to other communities, setting an example to thewhole world. But I think Benedict is calling for even more than that: a charity that will infuse the work of public entities—governmental bodies, corporations.
That his, and his predecessors’, words have been heeded can be seen in the way governments and private companies have begun to let love direct policy. That the U.S. government can recognize the need to treat immigrants with compassion, that companies can willingly consider the good of the planet and its people, that states can reconsider capital punishment: these are all examples of how charity can join hands with justice in the public setting. Even if you cynically counter that industry chooses to signal virtue in these instances for the sake of good publicity, the fact of the matter—the veritas of it—is that in any case they point to a charitable response to public problems.
This concept of Love in Truth, as developed by Pope Benedict, goes beyond an either-or, black or white view, embracing the whole spectrum of truth. This is what makes it a mountain-top view, where the many sides of a topic are seen in relation to one another in a 360° panorama.
We all reside in our own cultural milieu, somewhat isolated by the very fact of our surroundings. From this standpoint it is impossible to see the other side of the mountain. Our reasoning follows from the situation we are in—a logic predicated on limited understanding. When the first propositions are biased, the conclusions will be as well.
This man climbed the mountain of truth. This is the price to be paid for seeing the whole view. This is not a lazy “let’s meet in the middle and call it good.” This is, let’s get to the bottom of this, or to the top. Let’s do the work to understand what is really going on so that we can come together.
Love comes from truth,. “Truth, by enabling men and women to let go of their subjective opinions and impressions, allows them to move beyond cultural and historical limitations and to come together in the assessment of the value and substance of things, “ states Benedict. (Caritas in Veritate, p.4, #4) Subjective opinions are those mountain-valley views that don’t hold up at the summit.
Reading Benedict is not an easy task, but to do so thoughtfully, openly, is to make that climb with him as guide. Mountains are perilous places, where a guide is most helpful. Encouraging you to join him in the ascent!
No comments:
Post a Comment