This post sponsored by a fortuitous collision of stories. The three stories/articles are:
• "Six Surprising Things About Benedict XVI, 'The Puzzling Pope'", by David Gibson for Beliefnet
• "Talking to Kids About God", by Kathleen Deveny for Newsweek (ht: John Mallon)
• "A ‘model theologian’ prepares to step aside", by Gary Stern on Blogging Religiously
The topic of the Pope's puzzling persona has been out and about for a while now, and Gibson, who has written a book about Benedict XVI, takes it up again as he seeks to introduce Beliefnet readers to the paradoxical Pontiff:
There are many paradoxes about Benedict XVI, but this may be the
biggest: For a generation, as Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, he was one of
the most prominent and controversial men in Roman Catholicism. And now
he is the Supreme Pontiff, arguably the most visible and influential
religious leader in the world. Yet on the eve of his first visit to the
United States as pope, American Catholics—and everyone else—know little
about him. In fact, Andrew Greeley’s review of my biography of
Benedict, in Commonweal magazine, was titled, "The Puzzling Pope."
Am I the only one who finds it a bit strange that some people think
Benedict XVI is "puzzling," "paradoxical," "enigmatic," "mysterious,"
and "a Catholic mystery wrapped in a theological enigma and covered with
secret papal sauce" (okay, I made that last one up), while, I think it
is safe to say, many people think they know an actor because they watch
his television show, or a musician because they listen to her music? I put it that way because it seems to me that there are several, intersecting reasons the Pope is seen as "puzzling" or "mysterious" to many Americans (not a few of them Catholic), including the fact that our culture is celebrity saturated, intellectually slothful, and sound bite driven (soundbitten!).
Let's put it bluntly: for large swaths of the population, if you aren't an actor, musician, athlete, entertainer, or celebrity, you really aren't that important or memorable. Don't mention books or even articles—if it isn't in a thirty to sixty second sound bite set to hip-hop and featuring 3.2 frames per second, don't bother. Please package it with clear, simple labels and add an extra shot of artificial flavoring and a bit of sex. Oh, and make it sensational, preferably with some sort of confrontational or scandalous element, the better to keep us awake and paying attention.
I know it may sound arrogant and condescending, but the reality is this: we aren't, in far too many ways, a serious people. We are an entertained, coddled, and unserious people.
Now, I can appreciate that Joe American, especially is he isn't Catholic, might not set a high priority on becoming familiar with the entire body of work penned by Joseph Ratzinger. And there is certainly an important place for helpful introductions and popular works addressing the Pope's life, thought, and so forth. But how shall we make sense of well-educated, lifelong Catholics who not only know next to nothing about Catholicism, but are largely clueless about why or how they might rectify this significant deficiency? Which brings me to the second piece, a column in Newsweek written by a Catholic about her admitted failure to understand her faith:
Why does the subject of religion make me so uncomfortable? OK, so I'm divorced (twice!) and I haven't always been, um, a paragon of virtue. Still, I consider myself a practicing Roman Catholic. I take my kid to church most Sundays. (In the winter, at least.) I grew up as a Catholic and I find comfort in the familiar rituals of the mass. I am glad my daughter is getting some religious training.
But when confronted by my daughter's questions—Does God have arms? Do you really have to drink blood?—I'm completely lost. What was I doing during all those years of weekly CCD classes? I learned that Jesus loves me and I listened to a lot of bad guitar-playing at mass when I was growing up in the 1960s. But I didn't memorize the Baltimore Catechism and I couldn't name the seven deadly sins if my life depended on it. I could come up with only eight of the Ten Commandments!
It's not just about the gaps in my education. As a "cafeteria Catholic," I don't accept all the tenets of my religion. I am never going to teach my daughter that evolution is a fraud, and someday I will encourage her to think critically, not doctrinally, about issues like artificial birth control, stem-cell research and abortion.
I doubt many of us are surprised that Deveny received rotten catechesis; I've heard similar stories from many Catholics who came to age in the 1960s and 1970s. What is far more disconcerting is that after admitting she doesn't know much about Catholicism, she blithely condemns the Church for supposedly teaching that "evolution is a fraud"—something the Church has not said. And she then dismisses (using a riff on the old "I'm not dogmatic" line) the Church's teachings about artificial birth control, stem-cell research and abortion, even though it's a fair guess she has not even a basic understanding of why the Church teaches what it does about those issues.
Sure, Deveny had lousy CCD classes, but the greater problem is that as an
adult Catholic she has apparently never bothered to learn anything about the
Church except what she has absorbed through media sound bites. As an
older Catholic friend once told me, "We thought that once we were
confirmed, we magically knew everything we ever needed to know about
being Catholic." Of course, as he also noted, not only was that woefully incorrect, we can never know enough about being Catholic, because we can never fully plumb the depths of Jesus Christ and His Church—but we sure as shootin' should be trying to do so, by the grace of God.
Amy Welborn, in a post yesterday, pointed out that there is a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy at work with media stories about how Benedict XVI is "puzzling" or "mysterious":
I maintain that when we’re moving in the arena of “People got JPII but don’t get B16,” we’re essentially talking about superficial media-driven impressions, not truly “getting” the person.
2) The decision to structure reporting around “B16 is a mystery” isn’t reporting anything that’s really demonstrably news, both for the reasons in #1 as well as the arbitrariness of it.
The facts are that when it comes to evidence - book sales (in the US and worldwide) website hits, internet discussions - it seems as if there are lots of people interested in Benedict who are not scratching their heads at his purported impenetrability, but rather intrigued by and nourished by what he’s saying.
An amorphous mass that you can pin a label on that says “Thinks B16 is a mystery” is much less an object for real reporting than a more specific group you can actually (sort of) count and trace behavior of and talk to.
It's an excellent point that highlights how the information age can be either a curse or a blessing, depending on how we freely, knowingly choose to navigate it. If a person really wants to learn, to know, to understand, they will figure out how to find the right information, even if there are missteps along the way. Or we can decide to be spoon fed and passively soak in a barrage of images and noise that suck away our spiritual hunger and intellectual curiosity.
Finally, a quote from Avery Cardinal Dulles, S.J., who will be retiring this year (at the age of 90) from teaching at Fordham University. It comes via Gary Stern's blog:
[Dulles] has said that it is the theologian’s job to “show why the church is teaching what she is.”
I’ve had the opportunity to interview Dulles twice. He was gracious, humble and chose his words carefully. I don’t think he’s too smitten with the secular media.
I asked him in 2001, weeks before he was made a cardinal, why theology should matter to Catholics in the pews. He answered:
"When one believes, you should want to know more about what and why. What are the implications of belief? If you understand marriage as a sacrament, for instance, like the marriage between Christ and the church, you may have a better marriage than those who do not. Theology has real relevance."
Over the course of the next few weeks, there will be a flood of stories about Pope Benedict XVI's visit to the U.S. Some will be helpful, informative, and worth reading. Some will be shallow and misleading, treating the Pope as a sort of strange celebrity whose specific role in entertaining the masses is not really clear. In the end, the best way to understand who the Pope is and what he all about is to read his writings. Read some excerpts from his writings. Read good articles about him. And, of course, listen to and read what he actually says while he is in this country. No, he isn't a movie star, a rock musician (he is a classically trained pianist, however), or an athlete. But he is one of the greatest theologians of our time. Oh, and the Vicar of Christ and the successor of Saint Peter. That is reason enough to take him seriously.