Reflecting on criticism, especially criticism of “the church,” I notice that there are three tendencies.Some are sentinels, ever on the watch, guarding against any critical! word. They defend even the indefensible. Or, in egregious cases, they become sphinx-like, gloomily silent. I lived for years with a very intelligent man with whom it was impossible to have a reasonable discussion in which any criticism of the hierarchy was expressed. Gradually, I came to sense that he needed high defenses in order to live serenely, but I also noticed that his defenses isolated this bright man from his peers and even made close friendship with him rather difficult.
A second tendency is Aaron’s, a trap into which many, myself included, often fall. It is easy to blame “the bishops” or “the Roman Curia” for decisions we do not like, but it is not so easy to voice our legitimate criticisms directly and constructively to those who make those decisions. Nor is it easy to formulate effective solutions as part of a dialogue with decision makers, or at least to do all in our power toward that end. Blaming them is simpler. But blame, while cathartic, is rarely creative. It may serve to determine who was responsible for past ! events, but often fails to move toward constructing avenues that will lead to a new future. The Aaron group readily shifts responsibility to others, but rarely accepts responsibility itself.
That is precisely what the third group, the Moses group, tries to do. Unlike the first group, it is not afraid to voice criticisms; unlike the second, it does so as a full member of the church. Something that has struck me over the years is that so many great 20th-century theologians, like Karl Rahner, Henri de Lubac and Yves Congar openly voiced their complaints to “the church I love.” They wrote from within rather than from without. Today too, during the ongoing crisis of the church in the United States, many of its critics are faithful Catholics who speak out because they love the church and are eager for it to grow, to move beyond the present tragic events and to reform the structures that contributed to them.
Basically, it takes lots of courage to speak, to write and to! persevere in expressing the truth with love. But just as Paul withsto od Peter when “he was clearly in the wrong” (Gal 2:11), the church has always had, and continues to need, loyal critics.
…..
There is a tendency for those in authority to surround themselves with like-minded people. That becomes dangerous when the voices reaching authorities tell them only what they want to hear and label critics as “disloyal.” But ironically, critics are sometimes the church’s most loyal members. They are like Socrates, who told the jurors at his trial:
I am that gadfly which God has given the state and all day long and in all places am always fastening upon you, arousing and persuading and reproaching you. And as you will not easily find another like me, I wo! uld advise you to spare me. I daresay that you may feel irritated at being suddenly awakened when you are caught napping; and you might think that if you were to strike me dead…then you would sleep on for the remainder of your lives, unless God in his care of you gives you another gadfly.
It is a blessing that there will always be such voices within the church.
For the full story visit America Magazine or write me at freundj@stjohns.edu
