Integrity

Same Old Luck With Reporters

I swear I have just no luck with reporters.  No matter how clear I am during an interview, I always find I am misquoted. 

The most recent example is this article by Renee LaReau called Super Catholics? in the latest issue of U.S. Catholic.  Renee came across Integrity in the course of some research and contacted me (as she did other bloggers) to ask about my experience with Communion and Liberation.  It was a pleasant interview and I had looked forward to seeing the article.

However, If you read the part where she quotes me, you are left with the impression that if it weren't for CL I would be an Evangelical right now.   Not true.  Not even close.  My fault, I suppose, for trying, during a fifteen minute interview, to give over a decade of context to how I came to be involved with CL.  For what it is worth, my almost leaving the Catholic Church occurred in 1994, a full decade before I met CL.   My discovery of the truth of the Church, and the quick reversal of my thoughts of leaving for evangelicalism,  occurred during the summer of '94 and the next year.  Plus, I never wanted to leave for evangelicalism.  I was just confused about whether the Catholic Church was Christian and whether it would be right to stay a member.  (That will happen when you lack a good catechesis and when you are spending your time with Evangelicals who believe that Catholics can be Christians, but only despite their Catholicism.)

So how did the confusion come about?  Well, Renee asked me how I came to be involved with CL.  When your story doesn't have the easy answer, "My friend John was involved and he invited me to an event," it takes a bit more personal history to clarify things.  I sought CL out.  I knew next to nothing about it.  But in the back of my mind I knew the name and knew I wanted to learn something about it.  Why?  What was I looking for?  I had explained to Renee that my experience during college when I almost left the Church taught me some valuable lessons, including the need for communion in living the Christian life.  Ever since, it has been on my radar.  I found that type of communion in law school with the Catholic Law Students Association, but outside of that experience I hadn't found it in my experience of the Church until I finally found CL.

My mention of Opus Dei and Regnum Christi is misunderstood by Renee.  I think it is fair to say that I was interested in Opus Dei on a serious level -- drawn to it by its teachings regarding the sanctification of work and devotion to St. Joseph -- but I have always been repelled by the way in which Opus Dei lives out the charism, particularly the numeraries.  I value what they contribute to the Church, but I have serious doubts as to whether what they practice is really a lay vocation.  As for Regnum Christi, I never checked it out seriously at all.  I met Regnum Christi when, by a series of events, I found myself at a brainstorming retreat of a seminarian who was trying to found a campus ministry (the seminarian now Fr. Jonathan Morris, LC, and the campus ministry, Compass).     There were a number of RC members there, as one would expect at an activity associated with the LC.  My point in mentioning Opus Dei and Regnum Christi to Renee wasn't in so much that I had seriously considered becoming members of them (because I haven't), but to highlight how I had encounters with other movements along the way before meeting CL and a bit of irony in that I didn't become involved in them, but was attracted to the one where I knew no members and basically zilch about its charism.

Unfortunately, all that was reduced down to CL saved me from becoming a Protestant.  I'm not suggesting anything malicious on Renee's part. It was a short interview and I'm sure she was just taking quick notes on details and not fully absorbing what I was saying.   She probably had other quotes for the other themes in her article and I'm sure my emphasis on community made it all the more opportune to pair that with the fact that I had (long ago) considered leaving the Church.  (The problem with that is that I considered leaving the Church because of issues of truth, not a lack of an experience of community support.)   [I'm also not sure if it's clear in the article what I meant by community, as I was trying to emphasize something beyond just "having friends" and something more like what I best understand of koinonia.] 

I'm disappointed that this is what, from experience, I've come to expect from reporters.  Just once, I'd love to read an article or book in which I am quoted and think that they got it right on the money.

As for the article, it provides some decent background to some of the more prominent movements in the Church and I have to thank Renee for bringing that to a larger Catholic audience. 

Deus Caritas Est

As anyone without a head in the sand knows, Pope Benedict's first encyclical, Deus Caritas Est, was issued yesterday.  I haven't worked through the whole thing yet, but I couldn't help notice the strikingly CL type of understanding of Christianity that appears towards the beginning:

"Being Christian is not the result of an ethical choice or a lofty idea, but the encounter with an event, a person, which gives life a new horizon and a decisive direction."

For those not aware, Pope Benedict knew Fr. Giussani and, if other people's accounts of it are accurate, was very impacted by Fr. Giussani and the people of Communion and Liberation.  I'm not sure if this is the correct understanding, but some in St. Blog's have commented that the encyclical seems to draw upon the same themes Pope Benedict discussed in The Yes of Jesus Christ, which I'm told is the book-form of a series of reflections Pope Benedict gave to Communion and Liberation back in 1986.  Anyone can confirm that?

Anyway, I found it helpful to print a PDF version of the encyclical.  If you are interested, you can download it here.

Download DeusCaritasEst.pdf

Wow!

That has to be the most comments a single post on Integrity has ever received!  Ironically, this is the very type of back and forth exchange that I longed for when I began this blog so many years ago to reflect on the  exhortation, Christifideles Laici.  Who knew it just would take the bearing of my soul to lead to it.

A bit more context -- my "fraternity" group (quotes only in the sense that I am not a member of the Fraternity, but the experience I do not doubt strives for what is desired from Fraternity) met tonight at my place to judge our experiences of the Diaconia.  It was important for me that we kept to our meeting and I, truthfully, never thought of canceling because of my experience at the Diaconia.  I needed not only their help in judging my experience, but I wanted to hear of theirs -- to glimpse what they saw.  In fact, I think it would be safe to say that, among us, we had the two ends of the spectrum of experiencing the Diaconia.

I'm not going to say that I have in one evening unlocked what I was meant to learn from this weekend.  But some things have been identified or have been helpful.  First, the reaction of a number (both here and in person) that indicated my reaction to my first Diaconia wasn't an unrecognizable experience.  That others recognize it is comforting -- I don't stand alone in this experience; the Movement (as represented by each of you) isn't unaware that this experience happens (which believe me, is an important element of self-awareness to me); people stayed despite this experience.

And I am staying despite this experience.  One could say that is my CL experience.  After seeking the movement out at an event where CL had a booth and having none of my questions answered adequately (ironically, by another member of my fraternity, whose answers are now so much clearer and helpful to me), I nonetheless signed up for more information.  When I was never contacted, I then re-contacted CL.  When I attended my first CL event and had a very mixed experience, I still agreed to attend a SofC weeks later.  When that experience left me fleeing for the hills, I ultimately came back the next chance I could to give SofC another try.  Staying I think can fairly characterize how I have reacted to CL so far.

The proposal of CL, that Christ is present in every moment, provokes me.  It challenges me because I want that to be something I experience, not just recognize intellectually.  I've had some very powerful moments, supernatural moments if someone will give my judgment of the matter credence, where I do not doubt, in the moment or now, that Christ was active.  Those moments are like beacons for me.  Memories in that truest sense of the word that Giussani uses.  These are the moments to which I compare my experiences.  These are the moments that I use to try and verify when I say that Christ is present in some event or thing, because these are the moments where I know He was present.  I do wonder if at times it leads me to erroneous judgments -- to mistake "accidents" of those vivid moments for the "essence".   But, assuming the answer to that is "not entirely", I cannot verify the many "This is Christ" type recognitions I hear people in CL make about ordinary events of their lives.  And I steadfastly refuse to rationalize -- meaning, I want to truly see Christ present in those moments, not just be words that I slap onto my experience.  If those moments where I truly cannot say I see Him are meant to provoke me to recognize more fully my need and desire for Him, then I want to experience them in that way.  If He is there and I am not experiencing His presence in the way I am meant to, then I want for that to change.  But I don't want to spout off that I see Him when I truly don't. 

A second aspect that I have been thinking about is whether I have been changed by CL.  At this stage, the best I can do is answer with a "not yet" or "I'm not sure, maybe".  It's in this way that I understand Pazdziernik's comment about the movement being a "means to an end".  Certainly not in a mechanistic way (and I don't read Pazdziernik to mean it in that way), because I do think there is a way in which a charism is "my means".  For example,  I had some (very limited) involvement with Pazdziernik's movement, Regnum Christi, when I was helping some LC seminarians start Compass, a Regnum Christi campus outreach I very briefly was involved with.  There is no doubt a way in which CL is for me that Regnum Christi could never be.  But I most certainly judge it by "he is if he changes".  Has CL been a means by which Christ has changed me and led me on the way to sanctification?  Here, I have little in the form of an answer.  I know I desire the answer to be "yes", first and foremost to my changing, second, and less crucially, through CL.   About as much as I can identify is that CL has aided me in a process that I know had already begun: my shift in focus from doctrine to the living of the Christian experience.  I used to be very focused on doctrine.  Knowing it.  Talking about it.  But I found that it was making me bitter.  I would go to Mass and walk out of it not invigorated or joyful, but with a head full of criticisms about the various liturgical faults and the bad homily.  At some point, I realized that not only was this not enough but that this wasn't a Christian life.  Knowing the Church's teachings is important, but I had no need for a theologian's understanding of doctrine.  I needed help in living.  And I saw my attitude change when I embraced that realization.  CL, with its almost maniacal emphasis on our needs and judging our experience, has certainly helped me with that.

What does this have to do with my experience of the Diaconia?  I'm not sure.  If it's only meaning was in being the catalyst for some of this evening's conversations I do think the experience would be redeemed.  That said, I'm not convinced that is all it is.  I'm not sure if Stephen was intending to suggest any dichotomy, but for me, I cannot separate "what's the status of the movement in America" from "I need[ing] something to "respond" to, something that provokes my response ..."  As I said, this is a people, a subset and particular expression of the larger Church.  If this Movement is meant for me then it means the people of the Movement are meant for me, too.  And if that is true, I must know about them and how the charism is being lived where they are.  There is a way in which CL can at times feel utilitarian in its focus on the personal.  I think this isn't the way it is meant to be understood.  For me, the relational is so much more vivid -- why to understand koinonia is so important to me -- and I need to know about you to be in relationship with you.  And that relationship is for me too, of course.  (I hope that sheds a sliver of more clarity on why I had the expectation I described below and why when it wasn't met it impacted me in the way it did.)

Many thanks for all the comments!  I'm encouraged people even know this blog still exists!

Home From Boston

(I am sure many are not expecting this type of blog entry as the one announcing my return from blog hiatus.  I hope people read it with some mercy towards me, even if they feel as though I may not be showing them much.)

This weekend, I went to Boston for the National Diaconia of Communion and Liberation in the United States.  A number of other bloggers were there, and I am sure in the days to come there will be reactions on the web from many of them.

I've decided to post my reactions, unvarnished and very honest.  I don't do so for any other purpose than to try and figure out what I experienced this weekend.  I've come to love the charism of CL and I hope people keep that in mind when they read this.

I hated the Diaconia.  I mean I REALLY hated it.  So much so that I ended up checking out of the hotel early and catching a standby morning flight home to Chicago, skipping the last day altogether.  I just couldn't stand to be there another second.

I'm not entirely sure why.  I suppose some of it was due to my having expectations that were not met.  I had understood the Diaconia to be primarily a gathering of the movement's US responsibles and thus first and foremost about the nature of the charism's presence in this country.  I actually was looking forward to that aspect.  I wanted to see what that was, to see some honest discussion of where the charism is in the United States, the problems people are facing.  I thought it would give me a window into CL life that I hadn't had before. 

All of those aspects, as it turns out, take place behind closed doors.  So much so, that for everyone else, the session was basically a retreat, just without the structure or reflection time, or a party.  I didn't come to Boston for a retreat and it was a party that, honestly, didn't feel very welcoming to anyone who had never been before (or at least me).  I hadn't realized until now just how different personality-wise I feel from all of these extroverts. 

I also had invited some friends to attend part of the Diaconia as a way of introducing them to what I have experienced.  They (to some degree) basically bailed on me.  In hindsight that might have been for the best, given my attitude that developed over the weekend.  Nonetheless, I must admit this left me terribly disappointed.

I'm growing sick of the language of Giussani.  Not in the sense that I don't appreciate it.  I love it.  It is what spoke to me and drew me towards CL.  But I've come to understand that, like any technical language, sometimes facility in the words can present a false picture of experience in the life.  I don't want the language; I want the experience that rests behind the words.  Maybe I'm being cynical and overly judgmental, but I can't help but wonder these days when I hear people talking about "I", "Presence", "Mystery", "Destiny", etc., am I hearing truth or a performance?  Are we really experiencing Christ's presence in this companionship?  Sometimes, I must say I really doubt it.  I hear lots of very self-aware comments up to the point that someone then says, "This is Christ present" or something like that.  It feels at times that we are attaching what we know to be the expected answer, versus saying what we truly experienced.  Maybe it's just me, but I cannot assume I am alone in this experience.

What is with our refusal to acknowledge that administration is a gift of the Spirit?  CL sorely needs administration.  I understand that certain aspects of Italian culture always shall remain, but a little inculturation on this point is in order.  This isn't formalism, but charity.  Charity to those who are impacted by our presence.  The disorganization around meals alone led to real stress and heartache for the hotel staff serving us, missing meals, and in one case too many served, creating extra cost.  The singing after hours certainly disturbed my rest, let alone guests who had none of the care or appreciation for CL that I do.  And I can assure you, they probably didn't see love, but self-love, in such acts.

Do we need so many interventions and comments?  I know that these are important things.  I guess I just would like it to be less common for me to hear a fifteen minute question or a blathering answer.  No true question takes fifteen minutes to ask.

This is starting to sound like a rant, and I don't want that.  There were things to like about the time.  I thoroughly enjoyed meeting the Indianapolis community.  Their newness and honesty in front of the charism was refreshing.  It was good to see the folks from Evansville.  Without them, I would have felt magnitudes more like an outsider.  I loved the music and concerts.  I enjoyed ditching the Sunday morning session to attend Mass at my old parish.

Okay, couldn't resist that last dig. But seriously, that came about because I concluded two things:  I didn't need to be at the Diaconia at that moment and that I didn't want to be there.  I can't help but wonder if those questions loom larger about my participation in the movement in general.  I have found the experience in Chicago as of recent extraordinarily lacking.  This weekend did nothing to convince me that it was a problem of something about the local scene.