Our Synodal Illiteracy

Recently I received in my inbox an email with Bishop Robert Barron’s article Inclusivity and Love, which, especially after Cardinal McElroy’s insipid and vacuous rambling in America Magazine (which I do not have the stomach to link), is remarkable in both its clarity and its brevity. Indeed, if brevity is the soul of wit, it proves that a clear mind is allied with God’s simplicity. God does not confuse and confound; he clarifies and cleanses. In these post-truth times, perhaps that is one of the clearest evidences of the powers of heaven versus the powers of darkness.

In any case, as much as I respect Bishop Barron and his intelligence and personal amiability (having been in his personal presence more than once), what annoys me is how much good men, especially in the Church, feel the reflexive need to genuflect before bad ideas when they are proposed by ecclesiastical superiors. Certainly, bad men feel no such compulsion, as the German Hierarchy has demonstrated.

It is not that I don’t have sympathy for the Bishops. I truly do have sympathy, in as much as they have been handed a nearly impossible task, unprecedented in our history. Historically, most Popes and Bishops rightly feared, and therefore tightly controlled, Church Councils and Synods. Many were geographically delimited and mostly attended by the theologically educated. When the Church convenes, it is not to invite diversity of opinion, but consensus according to revealed truth. Therefore, it is impossible to declare a truth without condemning, at least implicitly, contrary teachings.

I cannot underemphasize how despised, at least among Latin Clergy in the West, this process of local consultation for the Synod has been. Just like Bishop Barron observed, most of the observations ‘on the ground’ were a series of slogans and bromides like “inclusiveness” and “welcome”, which have virtually no meaning in the current sociopolitical world order, let alone in the realm of theological truth or even pastoral praxis. Yet, what I so appreciate about his article is his willingness, like a limpid blast of air, to actually do what Bishops and Priests are meant to do: to teach and to correct. And in this, Bishop Barron demonstrates, again implicitly, that a Synod run as if the Church were a democracy is a Church headed for chaos and dissolution. Only authoritative and clear teaching can establish order and unity, not mere sentiment and sloganeering. Only a firm insistence upon “One Faith, One Lord, One Baptism” can save us from another dark age of schism and chaos which looms over us like a Sword of Damocles.

There are only a few places in the Catholic world, mostly in Africa and Asia, where the local synodal process has had some fruit. But this is only because, as many theologians have noted, you can’t have a sensus fidelium without the fideles. That is, specifically, those who live and practice the Catholic Faith, explicitly and intentionally. It gets back to the same question which perceptive journalists and reporters of religion have been asking in the Western World: if you poll ‘catholics’, it is imperative to ask whether that ‘catholic’ goes to Mass on Sundays, and whether they go to Confession with any regularity. That is an extremely easy method to gauge minimal religious commitment. Truthfully, before any of these local synod sessions should have been convened, they should have asked everyone present both questions. That would have been extremely illuminating for us as to whether we are dealing with false brethren or true believers. To date, most of my experiencies with the local process fall into two categories: a litany of nothingness, or a litany of malcontent. Both are completely unproductive.

Ironically, I know for a fact that many, many reports from local consultations to dioceses have been doctored; Priests, except the most brazen liberals, are too embarrassed to present what they have have heard and seen. Yet even among the Catholics who proclaim the faith and practice it, I find something that is extremely troubling: everyone who comes to such a ‘synodal process’ is, by so attending, mostly confused as to what their role truly is. Are they consultants? Are they theologians? Are they cultural commentators? Are they special interest groups? What exactly is the role of an individual Catholic, whose voice will be condensed, collated and compiled into a larger diocesan summary, and then shipped off to Rome, perhaps never to be read seriously? If indeed, as some fear, the Synod is already rigged, and the outcome already determined, what is the purpose of such time and expense?

At the same time, I want to end this small reflection on a point of hope. I have, as a fact, also heard marvelous contributions on the part of the lay faithful during this local process. What so inspires me, and challenges me, are the questions they ask, and I have presented to my own Bishop and Diocese: Where are our Priests? Can we have a reverent liturgy? Can we have wholesome, faithful preaching? How can we help our Priests in their mission? How can our Priests encourage us more in ours? If anything, I do see a sincere and beautiful yearning for that sacred alliance which ought to exist between the clergy and the lay faithful, the mutual love and encouragement which are such a joy in my own ministry, and such a far cry from the disillusionment and bellyaching in the mostly affluent, dead Churches in Christianity’s former heartland.

To be frank, I believe this ‘Synodal Way’ ought to completely abandoned. When Saint Paul came out of Arabia, the ‘vessel of election’, full of mystical ecstasy and Divine Mercy, had as his first intention, which he tells us in his Epistles, to approach the Apostles who personally knew Our Lord. If Saint Paul, who learned directly from Our Lord his saving truths, turned to the other Apostles for confirmation, that ought to give us pause. There is no person so elevated, so spiritually illuminated, that they are dispensed from submission of intellect and will to the authority of Our Lord and his Church. If that was true of the very Apostle Paul, it is true of us all, from the highest to the lowest. To consult practical unbelievers about the Christian Faith is like asking illiterates to read and comment on Shakespeare; they are beyond their depth, beyond their capacities. Our faith is too beautiful, too profound, to consign to the whims of despoilers. In Rome, in a short time, the Holy Father and our Bishops will have to decide whether they wish to listen to the sheep or the goats. Our Lord tells us that his sheep hear his voice. The question to us will soon be; will our shepherds on earth recognize the same?