Showing posts with label Mexico. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mexico. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Homily for Our Lady of Guadalupe

While the nature of history is vigorously debated among specialists today, for most of us it remains a re-telling of great men and women, of great events, great ideas, and great nations fighting great battles.

Being an amateur of history, and knowing something of the anti-Catholic regime in Mexico during most of the 20th century, I visited there for the first time this spring expecting to find a relatively moribund Catholic Church, with outbreaks of interest here and there. I was pleasantly surprised and edified to find that the Church, at least in the places that I visited, is still the defining instution for many of the people. Vocations are high, and fiestas are religious and full of life.

We ended our visit there with the obligatory trip to the Basilica of Our Lady outside Mexico City. This was a moving experience for me for many reasons. I will leave you with one. As we confront the dangers of secularization in the Church in the United States, the tendency among us is to look for great leaders, for great plans, for programs and projects to evangelize and catechize, to entice young men and women to religious life and to energize the laity. While these efforts are good and have their place, we should call to mind the roots of the Church. Our Savior was Himself a carpenter from an obscure town in Galilee, and He called fishermen to be his top-ranking disciples. When His Mother made her appearance and changed the future history of the land of Mexico, she did not appear to a bishop, or to any clergyman, to a great theologian or a great leader.

She appeared to the peasant Juan Diego. Would that we were as simple as he.

Friday, May 04, 2007

Reflections on Mexico, Conclusion

Perhaps before I conclude, I should distance what I am discussing from the current immigration debates. Are Mexicans exploiting America? or vice versa? Well, exploitation is the act of taking unjust advantage of another's weakness. Surely this is a danger in any relationship since human beings and their communities always have weaknesses. If Mexican immigrants are exploiting our porous borders and good employment opportunities it must be because of some weakness in our system. I will end this preface simply by noting that it is the deep weakness of a fundamental lack of culture that is possibly to blame for our unwillingness to govern ourselves in a manner that avoids these problems. On the flip side, it is precisely the strength of Mexican culture that allows for Mexicans to take the risk of leaving family in order to come north to earn money, etc. In short, there is an ecomonic imbalance that favors the U.S. and a cultural imbalance that favors Mexico. Could we instead support each other by offering our strengths?

My thoughts on culture began with visits to the many local churches, visits I described in the first of these posts. But they came to a head at Sunday Mass. Whatever liturgical angst we have in the U.S. Catholic Church is totally foreign to the jubilant celebration of the Eucharist at La Soledad. I began to wonder if the liturgical wars still burning here have less to do with the scheming of the Liturgical Soviet (as I fondly call those who monkey with forms for the sake of "The People") or with the nervous reactions of the Romish bureuacrats, and more to do with the lack of anything like a clear American culture, into which the reforms of Vatican II could be fitted seamlessly, as seems to be the case in Mexico.

Now there are obviously other factors. Spanish is much closer to Latin than English is, and so the change to the vernacular would hardly have created the difficulties it has with a non-Romance language. But for a clear example of my thought, let's take 'folk music'. In Mexico, people were clearly singing identifiably Mexican idiom tunes with guitars, maracas, and so on. By contrast, when 'folk Masses' came about in the States in the 70's, what was the American idiom of folk music? Woody Guthrie? Stephen Foster? Gordon Lightfoot? The Beach Boys? Depending on whether you were Carey Landry, Richard Proulx, Suzanne Toolan, or the Damiens, you'd answer differently. And not one of these styles reflects the actual 'folk music' I grew up with: German waltzes and polkas and hymns on my mother's side, and Polish polkas on my father's side. I hated going to Mass at home with my grandparents and having to anguish over the guitar youth cheerfully insisting that my immigrant grandparents give up their beloved Mainz hymnody for Godspell.

Some would argue that American culture is precisely this crazy amalgam of local cultures combining to form something greater. I would call it rather a confused artistic vacuum, into which top-down, 'expert' solutions easily make their way, either from the Liturgical Soviet or the Vatican. This is only an example from music; analogous problems abound in areas of architecture, lay participation and devotions. What to do?

I mentioned that there is need of an American Catholic culture, and I received at least one ironic comment on the topic. Yes, cultures do not spring up overnight. They are not planned. No one makes a decision that 'in our culture, we are going to do things this way'. Rather, people make countless transactions with reality (to paraphrase Fr Aidan Kavanaugh, OSB) and through these negotiations, customs and languages arise that begin to shape a distinctive culture.

Don't we already do this in America? Yes, but with one fundamental aspect missing: that missing aspect? Stability. Because we are constantly dealing with different people, our language must be the abstract esperanto of legal and financial institutions, or the bromides that 'personalize' these abstract transactions ("My name is Jenn and I will be your waitress tonight!" "Have a nice day!")

For a culture to grow, there must be continuity, not only in customs, but in persons. First and foremost this means families. My father is always and forever my father, and the stability of our relationship gives stability and shape to my life and by extension to all my relationships. Unless, of course, I have no real relationship with my father, which happens to be the case for one of every two Americans, more or less. Same thing with mothers, grandmothers, and so on. Another stabilizing force in families is larger numbers of children. A big family grows exponentially over three generations, and involves everyone in it in clear social bonds that knit the community together. All these grandchildren need to marry outside the family, and so this one large family become a meeting place for large numbers of persons outside the family, and the whole community again becomes interwoven.

As is well-known, our ersatz culture corrodes these family bonds in many ways. The smiling, guitar-strumming Godspell teen choir might have meant well, but they were, perhaps unknowingly, putting me in a position to forsake the values and culture of my own family history (Bavarian) in favor of the celebrity values of Steven Schwartz and (R) "Gather Comprehensive." Of course, political human engineering, such as the striking down of anti-abortion legislation, the hiking up of the drinking age (what 20-year-old German/Pole doesn't drink beer, for heaven's sake?), public schooling that force-teaches human sexuality and evolution where parents don't want it, and the drumming up of wars whose aims bear little relationship to the everyday concerns of normal inhabitants of the struggling local cultures of places like Dubuque, Iowa or Tuscaloosa, Alabama--these maneuvers are great for the economy and international swagger of the USA, but they make family life and stability very difficult and costly. Deciding for stability in many cases is deciding for second-class status. Driving the American economy requires ambitious, upwardly mobile types to be encouraged to shake free of culture. Many people today are so conditioned by our consumerist 'culture' and the promise of total satisfaction of desire, that to sit in one place and be less productive, to have to deal with the same persons all the time, is simply intolerable. This phenomenon goes by many names, individualism being one that springs to mind.

What to do? This sort of crisis is by no means new in human history. A similar decay of culture took place with the slow fade of the Roman empire. Monasteries helped to refound culture in Europe by becoming places of stability. But all of us, even outside the monastery, can make some contribution. For starters, we should encourage families to stay together and each of us can make the effort to be a little closer to our own families. This also means accustoming ourselves to what seem like the unpleasant realities of committing to a parish, a set group of persons in a stable environment. It is tempting to shop around for a parish, but this impulse assists in the reduction of church life to yet another consumer choice, rather than the humble but privileged place of my encounter with the mystery of the Incarnation. Jesus spent almost his whole earthly life in Nazareth, travelling around the relatively small area of Galilee after thirty years at home, and then finally going up to Jerusalem to die.

There are many other related projects here, and to consider them would take us too far afield. I mention the question of family and stability because these attributes are clearly on display in places like Atotonilco, Guanajuato, Mexico. Families are large; five children seems to be about a minimum (I saw no evidence whatsoever of a mass exodus of persons to the States--there are plenty of people coming up to replce those who have emigrated). Plus, families have lived in the same group of villages possibly for centuries, even predating the Spanish conquest. There is no GIA to send out brochures telling the local organist which hymns are 'in' this year.

The Anti-Catholic government that ruled for most of the 20th century in Mexico tried to stamp out the Church, but they couldn't stamp out local cultures. Because of this the Church survived even official persecution. There has been no official effort to weaken the Catholic Church in our country, but culture is so weak that the Church suffers a great deal more here without official persecution.

I'm sure that many of these ideas, being well beyond my personal competence, will strike some readers as missing on certain details and realities. But I stand behind the general thrust. What we have to learn from Mexico is how to be a culture: how persons with ties of geography and blood can and should stand together and oppose efforts of homogenizing government-types to break us loose from our places in order to fit us into the giant consumer scheme that turns the cranks for the American machine. So I close with one final exhortation to anyone who thinks that there is any merit to what I have just written, and I promise to go back to the Rule after this. My exhortation: If you want to participate in the rebuilding of a real culture, take the first logical step of turning off your television. Take the time you save to talk to your kids, your parents or your neighbors. Cancel your subscription to Newsweek and take the time and money you save to plant some flowers and say hi to the people who walk by as you weed around them. End of sermon.

Glory be to God in Jesus Christ!

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

Reflections on Mexico, Part II

I will save the largest issue of culture until last and focus this morning on Our Lady of Guadalupe.

I heard two stories about the image of Our Lady that I had not heard before. In the first, someone planted a bomb underneath it during the civil war. The bomb went off and destroyed all kinds of metal objects around the image and did not touch the image itself. In the second, the story goes, a German specialist was hired to do some cleaning of the image. As an avowed atheist however, he secretly conspired to ruin the image by applying acid to it. As he prepared to do this, Mary appeared to him in the image as a live person. Horrified, he dropped his weapons, at which point Our Lady smiled at him. He became a Catholic.

There are further the indisputable marvels of the image itself: the mystery of its production (who would have had the expertise to paint it?), its longevity (the fabric is made of vegetable matter and should have decayed by now), and the eyes (only recently, scientific analysis of the image revealed that in the pupils of the Virgin's eyes is the image of Bl. Juan Diego). Someone painting the image might have thought to depict her as half-European, half-American, but this is yet another amazing fact about the image. She is truly Queen of Peace.

Private revelations, according to official Church teaching, are not required belief for a Catholic, and so there is no particular danger in being a skeptic about these stories. Being at the basilica, hearing the stories and witnessing the faith of those devoted to O.L of Guadalupe, however, creates a rather weighty impression of veracity regarding the whole tradition. There is a plaque in a nearby church that reads, "God has not dealt thus with other nations [Ps. 147]." It is a striking confession for the nation that neighbors the 'almost chosen' land of liberty to the south. Mexico has been a land of tremendous suffering and we have not. I suppose many Americans harbor a secret sense of ourselves as greater for this. Are we ready to say with our Lord, "Blessed are the poor; blessed are they that mourn?" Surely this visit of Our Lady to Juan Diego is evidence of God's inscrutable choice at work.

These experiences in the end helped me clarify something about the relationship between America and Mexico. So often we hear about better cooperation between Catholics of the two countries, and almost inevitably this is couched in terms of higher standards of living for Mexico, refusal to exploit laborers there, and so on. Without question this is an important matter of justice, and one I've been aware of even before I was strongly practicing my faith. Do we hear often enough about the goods of the spiritual life to be gained by Americans from this proposed solidarity? How many Americans are really ready to hear that we might learn from Mexico? Out of those who would say they are, how many of those really want to learn and how many others want to exploit economic and cultural imbalances in the U.S. between hispanics and whites to promote personal agendas (I fear that this is a temptation in ministry: people who lack resources are easy prey for demagogues)?

Before we can answer these questions effectively, I would need to be more explicit about what is lacking in America versus Mexico. It is not, for example, that we don't use maracas at the liturgy. So in due time, I will make post #3 in which we look at the prerequisites for anything like an American Catholic culture, based on the examples I witnessed in Mexico.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Reflections on Mexico, Part 1

I have arrived back in the States after a wonderful trip to Mexico. After we finished our meetings, we had the long ride back to Mexico city from Guanajuato (about a five hour trip), and took the opportunity while in the city to visit the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe. This was very moving, more than I had expected it to be for me.

If I have a chance, I will return to that experience. More importantly, I and the other Americans all found the faith of the people in the small towns to be perhaps even more moving and edifying. The signal moment came when we visited the parish church at Atotonilco, a major pilgrimage center for the penitentes (flagellants). The church, while not in the best repair, is stunningly intricate, painted on almost every surface with scenes from the life of Christ, especially his Passion, as well as with hundreds of poems by the founding priest. As we were leaving the church, a procession from a nearby town came marching in, with the brass band playing, fireworks exploding, and children in costume dancing. They were, we were told, coming to ask Christ's permission to hold a fiesta in their town. They marched right up to the church, said some prayers together, and then marched back. It was a moving scene.

The sense of God's pervasive presence in this culture is unlike anything I had ever experienced. Abbot Anselm and I both felt as if we were visiting a 'Catholic culture' for the first time (he grew up in northern England and has travelled very widely). In every church we enetered, one could find persons young and old praying, especially to 'Our Lord of the Pillar', the scourged Christ dressed in purple and crowned with thorns. Frequently, someone would approach the statue of Christ and touch the edge of his robe (the statues tended to feature both robes and hair!). Certainly I felt that the faith that I witnessed made mine seem weak in comparison.

It seemed clear that we American Catholics have a lot to learn from this culture. Yet, already in the conversations that I have had (not in our community thankfully) since returning, I have sensed a kind of condescension toward these simple practices. It is difficult to mention flagellation, obviously, but we shouldn't be too quick to judge this cultural expression. At Atotonilco, 3000-4000 people come 33 times a year to do penance, and this at only one shrine in a sparsely populated area. I'm not sure that our guest house has accomodated 4000 persons coming for retreat in our 17 years in Chicago combined--and this in an archdiocese of 2 million Catholics!

Sadly, this condescension seems to come mainly from those who would want to minister to the poor by making them more like 'us', a little more sophisticated perhaps. While we have a duty to relieve the sufferings of the poor where we can, and while the American bishops (and indeed Rome) have made it clear that they would like more solidarity between American and Mexican Catholics, I hope that we can accomplish these things so as to enrich our American Catholic experience without losing the strong faith of Mexicans. I don't believe that pooh-poohing local devotions is the way to go, especially if we intend to replace them with our own typically deracinated and uneasy spirituality. This is also not to say that Americans should simply adopt Mexican cultural expressions; what is really needed is an American cultural expression of Catholicism. I hope to reflect on this a bit more in the coming days.

Peace to all who visit here!

Imprimatur

This blog is published with ecclesiastical approval.


If I, who seem to be your right hand and am called Presbyter and seem to
preach the Word of God, If I do something against the discipline of the Church
and the Rule of the Gospel so that I become a scandal to you, The Church, then
may the whole Church, in unanimous resolve, cut me, its right hand, off, and
throw me away.


Origen of Alexandria
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