What we think is the right road
It is the height of arrogance to think that we know right from wrong and good from evil. We may know right from wrong, for us; but we do not know it for others. We have no right to try to tell others what is virtuous and what is vicious, for those things depend upon the group involved or the time of the event. The only thing we can be sure of is that we don't know anything for sure. Everything depends upon time and space, and nothing is certain – except for death and taxes, of course!
But it's the wrong road
Once upon a time in U.S. history, the Know Nothing Movement comprised a group of 19th-century anti-Catholics who said they knew nothing about their aims and policies. Their descendants are evidently back in force. On many campuses today, one may easily find professors who claim not only that they know nothing – that appears to be a credible claim – but that nothing can be known. It gets worse, though: moral relativists are powerless in the face of evil, for they refuse to call it what it is.
As St. John Paul II told us in the encyclical "Evangelium Vitae": "We need now more than ever to have the courage to look the truth in the eye and to call things by their proper name." As the prophet Isaiah wrote: "Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness" (5:20). Philosopher J. Budziszewski of the University of Texas contends that there some things we cannot not know. In other words, there are some things written on our hearts (see, for example, Romans 2:14). The point is that atheism means not only that one denies God but that one denies Ultimate Truth, Ultimate Goodness and Ultimate Beauty. To the extent that anything holy exists, the practical atheist insists, he defines it, he determines it, he delimits it.
Ultimately, Catholic philosophers tell us, there is an Ultimate. If and when we reject God – who is the Ultimate – distinguishing between the sacred and the profane is up to us. It is the original sin, on steroids. And the belief only in the grand, imperial self is the beginning and end of much ethical reasoning today in the secular world. For us, as Catholics, the alpha and the omega of all that is noble and decent and kind and lovely is Christ (see Phil 4:8).
One can reasonably argue that the most important verse in the Bible lies in Job's soul-stirring declaration: "I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that in the last day I shall arise out of the earth" (19:25 DRB). With Job, we know that we are sinners in need of redemption which comes to us through the grace of a merciful God; with Job, we know that we live in and through Him; with Job, we know that we are destined for eternity; and, with Job, we know that God has defeated death. In the Bible, only a few pages after Job, we read in the Psalms about the evil man who "rejects God and does not have reverence for Him. Because he thinks so highly of himself, he thinks God will not discover his sin and condemn it. His speech is wicked and full of lies; he no longer does what is wise and good. He makes evil plans ... (and) nothing he does is good, and he never rejects anything evil" (36:1-4 GNB).
Get it wrong about a merciful and just God; get it wrong that we are called to obey His divine will; get it wrong that our peace is the fruit of conforming to His commands – and we destined to a life of moral chaos. So much around us today is the work not of light, but of darkness, because the Light of Christ has been rejected and ridiculed.
In the Extraordinary Form of the Holy Mass, there is almost always a reading of the "Last Gospel" in addition to an Epistle (or Lesson) and the Proper Gospel (a selection from Matthew, Mark, Luke or John). Right after the last blessing, there is a reading from St. John 1:1-14, which powerfully reminds us that the saving grace of Christ is our light, but "the world knew Him not." The "Last Gospel" testifies that Christ is full of grace and of truth. He is, as St. John Paul II once said, "the answer to the question that is every human life."
Job 19:25 points to John 1:1-14. Indeed, all of history points to John 1:1-14. Our own lives testify to the meaning and the nobility of John 1:1-14. St. John tells us that those who receive Christ become His sons and daughters – and they are not saved and they will not flourish because of secular power or because of their own will (1:13), but because God was born, suffered, died and was resurrected for us. One of the reasons we Catholics honor the cross and have a crucifix in our homes is to always remind us that there is a point to what we think and say and do; there is a purpose to our life and to our death; and ultimately, that there is an Ultimate who does not leave us morally rudderless, ethically bewildered or religiously uncertain.
We know something because we know Someone. The first thing we know is that our Redeemer liveth. Deo gratias!
Deacon James H. Toner serves at Our Lady of Grace Church in Greensboro.
Atlanta Archbishop Wilton Gregory was recently in Charlotte to celebrate Mass, and he took a few moments to comment on the upcoming release of "Spotlight," a movie retelling the story of how in 2002 the Boston Globe uncovered the problem of pervasive child sexual abuse among priests, a problem which had been kept hidden for decades in the U.S. Church.
Archbishop Gregory was president of the U.S. bishops' conference in 2002 when the scandal broke. He quickly became the face of the Catholic Church in America. He responded to the seismic eruption of the problem uncovered by the Globe – first with an apology to the victims and then with a resolute attitude that things were going to change.
"I spent my entire three years (as USCCB president) confronting the issue and dealing with the issue," he said to a brief press gathering Nov. 8.
"Spotlight" opens nationwide Friday, Nov. 20. Reviews, trailers and most of all advanced publicity from the film studio, including interviews with the director and stars of the film, coupled with knowledge of the story, makes it conceivable to comment on "Spotlight" before seeing it. But any comment needs to be accompanied by an apology to the victims. On behalf of the Diocese of Charlotte, Bishop Peter Jugis gave a very public apology shortly after he was installed as bishop, during a homily on Ash Wednesday 2004. I repeat that apology here and I urge any victim of sexual abuse anywhere to contact the authorities.
The archbishop said he hadn't seen the movie before his Charlotte visit, but his perception of the film is one of painful gratitude.
He said he recognizes the suffering of the victims while down-playing the pain inflicted upon the institutional Church. "While it may be very difficult for the institutional Church to watch it and go back, it is infinitely more painful to those who were harmed," he noted.
The Boston Globe quite rightly won the Pulitzer Prize for Public Service for its work, and the movie "Spotlight" apparently tells a riveting tale of how a dogged team of reporters pursued the individual perpetrators and the institutional Church.
Great journalism not only wins prizes, it changes things for the better. If I have a quibble with the film it is that the movie ends long before the story does. The film concludes as the first story is being published. But what that story accomplished is astonishing, both here in the U.S. and around the world.
Since 2002, the Church has undertaken a litany of changes, some of which can be measured:
In the Diocese of Charlotte, like others around the country, these changes have impacted every aspect of church life. Everyone who works for or volunteers at a church, school or ministry in the diocese must go through a criminal background check and take part in regular awareness training called "Protecting God's Children." Since 2002, 42,500 people have gone through this training and 51,000 background checks have been conducted.
In its annual report the diocese also details how much has been spent on training, payments to victims and attorneys fees. To date, $2.9 million has been paid. For the U.S. Church as a whole, that figure is $2.8 billion.
But what can't be measured is the awareness at all church locations and gatherings that we cannot let these abuses happen ever again, that we must all remain vigilant. If you have ever encountered the security processes at the Children's Track of the diocese's Eucharistic Congress, you know that adults have given a lot of thought to protecting the many children in their care.
Archbishop Gregory spoke with pride about his term as USCCB president during the turbulence of the Globe coverage: "I am very proud to say that the Catholic Church took appropriate, strong and direct action to address the issue. In the U.S. (we have) the Charter for the Protection of Children, the audits that take place in dioceses, the offices for outreach to victims and comfort to those who have been harmed."
"Spotlight" is a movie about children, but it is not a film for children. Its A-III and R ratings indicate the graphic seriousness of the subject matter.
That probably means lower ticket sales, but the frank statement the movie makes about the recent past of the Church is a reminder that the safety and well-being of children is more important than the reputation of an institution. All organizations that serve children can and must learn from the Church's painful experience.
David Hains is the communication director for the Diocese of Charlotte.