10 excuses for the loss of hospitality: #2

The second excuse: The story of Sodom is blurred, and the hospitality triptych is lost to us.

Here’s the second of the ten excuses for inhospitality. (List of ten at bottom, in rough chronological order.)

Angels of Sodom, draw near!

The story of Sodom is blurred, and we have lost track of its integrity.

What do you hear if someone prays that the angels of Sodom come now, and come quickly? I have never tried to measure it, but I suspect that most people think they are hearing a plea that God will send angels of destruction to kill off the LGBT folks. That’s a seriously weird distortion. The angels of Sodom are the same as the angels of Mamre. The image of the Trinity painted by the Russian iconographer Andrei Rublev six centuries ago – three tranquil angels by an altar – is an image of the event at Mamre, where Abraham provided hospitality to God. Three strangers showed up at his tent, and he welcomed them, providing rest and refreshment, water for their feet, and a feast. The First Feast in the Bible foreshadows the Eucharist: God and man at table are sat down. The day after the feast, two of the visitors go on to Sodom, and one – now identified as God – speaks with Abraham. The two enjoy Lot’s hospitality, which follows Abraham’s model in a list of details. But the men of Sodom want to rape Lot’s attractive guests, so the angels destroy the city. Homosexual gang rape is the polar opposite of hospitality.

For a thousand years, everyone referring to the story of Sodom used it to talk about luxury and injustice and flaunting your wealth. It was seen as the third piece of a story about hospitality. But in the early years of the Christian church, Peter and Jude (and Josephus) spoke about Sodom referring to carnal evils. Okay, that’s there too; I’m not going to argue against two epistles in the New Testament. But I note that three prophets and two Gospels and Genesis 18 and Judges 20 all offer an interpretation of the Sodom story that has nothing to do with same-sex carnality.

I would argue that the cramped interpretation of Sodom causes two problems. It seems to justify a completely unbalanced attitude toward people who identify themselves as gay. But also, it smudges a story that is loaded with insights into hospitality.

If you pray with all your heart that the “angels of Sodom draw near,” are you asking for the destruction of carnal sinners, or of arrogant men who are content to enjoy luxury without offering a scrap of hospitality to strangers – who, in fact, abuse widows and orphans and strangers? Are you asking the God of justice and hospitality to come quickly to our aid? Is it a Christmas prayer? Is it a Marian prayer, like her words in the Magnificat, rejoicing in God who lifts up the poor and sends the rich away empty?

I am not afraid of the angels of Sodom. I’m not disrespectful of them; I’m careful. But not afraid, or not much afraid, or not just afraid. Their advent is good news for the poor.

Come, O Angels of Sodom!

The list of ten excuses

1. GER, NOKRI, ZUWR: guest, weirdo, enemy. The teaching about strangers in Hebrew was clear; Greek and Latin and English do not have the same clarity.

2. The story of Sodom has been mangled, and the hospitality triptych has disappeared.

3. In the Patristic era, St. John Chrysostom and other Fathers disagreed about who we are commanded to serve. Who is the least of the brothers: people in need, or Christians in need?

4. The shamrock image of the Trinity (attributed to St. Patrick) is a dead end for thought. We are not accustomed to exploring images of the Trinity, including three found all over our teaching: Father/Son and Spirit, husband/wife and sacramental unity, host/guest and unifying hospitality.

5. As St. Thomas Aquinas noted with concern, the corporal works of mercy drifted away from their roots in Scripture. Over the centuries, this became a serious source of confusion.

6. During the Reformation and the division of the Lord’s church, Christians killed each other, instead of welcoming each other. When the killing stopped, the inhospitality remained.

7. Before they were suppressed or weakened, the monasteries in the name of the community – fulfilled the Lord’s command to welcome strangers. When the monasteries closed, no new pattern of hospitality emerged to replace the Patristic pattern.

8. Science fiction, shaped in large part by the eugenics movement, routinely painted the universe as a place of constant warfare. In the sci fi universe, Earth is surrounded by hostile forces. C.S. Lewis worked hard to change this pattern. The universe of mainstream sci fi is inhospitable: a detail of the stupendous damage wrought by the eugenics movement.

9. The Catholic Church was split in reaction to Vatican II. There are still millions of Catholics who have no idea what the Church teaches about social justice. The left-right split resembles the older split over the lessons from Sodom, but it’s deeper and more comprehensive.

10. In the 1960s – a time of sex and drugs and peace, man – rapists on the road changed the way Americans responded to strangers. In 1960, nearly every child in the country was taught: “Be polite to strangers.” One single decade later, nearly every child in the country was taught, “Don’t speak to strangers.” 

10 excuses for the loss of hospitality: #1

Here’s the first of ten excuses for inhospitality. (List of ten at bottom, in rough chronological order.)

What’s a GER?

The Hebrew word ger cannot be translated easily into Greek, nor Latin, nor English. Teaching that was precise and easy to follow in the Old Testament is blurred in translation. This is a problem that reaches back 17 centuries for sure, and maybe 20.

In Hebrew, the word “ger” is hard to mistake, because it is embedded within one of the most influential stories in world history, the story of the Exodus. God brought the Hebrews out of Egypt, because the Egyptians turned away from the hospitality that Joseph had offered to his family, and enslaved the Hebrews. The key lesson of the event is about God who saves us. But the key moral lesson is about hospitality: remember what happened to us, and don’t be like an Egyptian. The word “ger” means “stranger,” but a stranger like the Hebrews in Egypt. It refers, primarily, to people who live in one land, but have unmistakable roots elsewhere – immigrants. It also refers more generally to guests, and sometimes to travelers passing by.

In Hebrew, it’s easy to distinguish between a ger and a zuwr, which means enemy. It’s easy to understand the difference between a ger and someone who is nokri, or foreign and perhaps a little weird. But in English, all three words are often translated as stranger. What was clear in Hebrew is smudged in English (and Greek and Latin). The teaching about strangers/enemies and strangers/weirdos is not the same as the teaching about strangers/immigrants/pilgrims/guests. If you blur these words, you can lose track of the fierce and determined teaching throughout the Hebrew Bible about welcoming people whose situation resembles the Hebrews in Egypt.

A fundamental teaching in Hebrew is often smudged in other languages.

                                                      

The list of ten excuses

1. GER, NOKRI, ZUWR: guest, weirdo, enemy. The teaching about strangers in Hebrew was clear; Greek and Latin and English do not have the same clarity.

2. The story of Sodom has been mangled, and the hospitality triptych has disappeared.

3. In the Patristic era, St. John Chrysostom and other Fathers disagreed about who we are commanded to serve. Who is the least of the brothers: people in need, or Christians in need?

4. The shamrock image of the Trinity (attributed to St. Patrick) is a dead end for thought. We are not accustomed to exploring images of the Trinity, including three found all over our teaching: Father/Son and Spirit, husband/wife and sacramental unity, host/guest and unifying hospitality.

5. As St. Thomas Aquinas noted with concern, the corporal works of mercy drifted away from their roots in Scripture. Over the centuries, this became a serious source of confusion.

6. During the Reformation and the division of the Lord’s church, Christians killed each other, instead of welcoming each other. When the killing stopped, the inhospitality remained.

7. Before they were suppressed or weakened, the monasteries in the name of the community – fulfilled the Lord’s command to welcome strangers. When the monasteries closed, no new pattern of hospitality emerged to replace the Patristic pattern.

8. Science fiction, shaped in large part by the eugenics movement, routinely painted the universe as a place of constant warfare. In the sci fi universe, Earth is surrounded by hostile forces. C.S. Lewis worked hard to change this pattern. The universe of mainstream sci fi is inhospitable: a detail of the stupendous damage wrought by the eugenics movement.

9. The Catholic Church was split in reaction to Vatican II. There are still millions of Catholics who have no idea what the Church teaches about social justice. The left-right split resembles the older split over the lessons from Sodom, but it’s deeper and more comprehensive.

10. In the 1960s – a time of sex and drugs and peace, man – rapists on the road changed the way Americans responded to strangers. In 1960, nearly every child in the country was taught: “Be polite to strangers.” One single decade later, nearly every child in the country was taught, “Don’t speak to strangers.” 

10 excuses for the loss of hospitality

Western civilization has its roots in the ancient Greeks and Hebrews. In general, we can find our fundamental values explained and exemplified in these two cultures. Recalling our roots is one way to lift our minds away from the cramped fixations of day-to-day life; it is also a way to notice the unmoored drift of our society, away from ancient assumptions. Like hospitality. Today in America, we tend to think of hospitality as a decorative phenomenon, good manners, the tie to go with a tux – not a bad thing, but definitely not a serious thing. The Greeks saw it differently: Apollo, the protector of truth and justice, was also the defender of hospitality. And few moral teachings were more fundamental for the Hebrews than Moses’ words about hospitality, a rock-solid touchstone value: “Welcome strangers, because – remember! – you too once were a stranger in a strange land.”

So what happened? Where did hospitality go? How did this cultural assumption and habit erode?

Part of the problem is plain old sin – selfishness and greed and racism and suchlike. But I think it’s possible to identify some developments and challenges that are more specific. Seeing what happened does not automatically reverse the damage, but it helps.

So here are ten excuses for inhospitality, in rough chronological order.

1. GER, NOKRI, ZUWR: guest, weirdo, enemy. The teaching about strangers in Hebrew was clear; Greek and Latin and English do not have the same clarity.

2. The story of Sodom has been mangled, and the hospitality triptych has disappeared.

3. In the Patristic era, St. John Chrysostom and other Fathers disagreed about who we are commanded to serve. Who is the least of the brothers: people in need, or Christians in need?

4. The shamrock image of the Trinity (attributed to St. Patrick) is a dead end for thought. We are not accustomed to exploring images of the Trinity, including three found all over our teaching: Father/Son and Spirit, husband/wife and sacramental unity, host/guest and unifying hospitality.

5. As St. Thomas Aquinas noted with concern, the corporal works of mercy drifted away from their roots in Scripture. Over the centuries, this became a serious source of confusion.

6. During the Reformation and the division of the Lord’s church, Christians killed each other, instead of welcoming each other. When the killing stopped, the inhospitality remained.

7. Before they were suppressed or weakened, the monasteries in the name of the community – fulfilled the Lord’s command to welcome strangers. When the monasteries closed, no new pattern of hospitality emerged to replace the Patristic pattern.

8. Science fiction, shaped in large part by the eugenics movement, routinely painted the universe as a place of constant warfare. In the sci fi universe, Earth is surrounded by hostile forces. C.S. Lewis worked hard to change this pattern. The universe of mainstream sci fi is inhospitable: a detail of the stupendous damage wrought by the eugenics movement.

9. The Catholic Church was split in reaction to Vatican II. There are still millions of Catholics who have no idea what the Church teaches about social justice. The left-right split resembles the older split over the lessons from Sodom, but it’s deeper and more comprehensive.

10.   In the 1960s – a time of sex and drugs and peace, man – rapists on the road changed the way Americans responded to strangers. In 1960, nearly every child in the country was taught: “Be polite to strangers.” One single decade later, nearly every child in the country was taught, “Don’t speak to strangers.”

open letter to Cardinal Burke on social sin

+++ open letter +++

Dear Cardinal Burke,

I have a question, with an explanation I’ll try to keep short. It includes a question about Amoris Laetitia, but only tangentially.

The question: after the teaching of Pope Saint John Paul II on Penance and Reconciliation, which includes a revolutionary section on social sin, is the Church going to re-think and re-shape the way we go about celebrating this Sacrament, to incorporate his ideas into our life? For example, what does it look like to see the sin of inhospitality in our lives, and to repent and turn away from it, toward freedom to worship without fear?

I want to write about this for 10,000 words or so. I won’t! I’ll be as brief as I can be, and hope it’s still clear, not too gnomic.

1.       John Paul II wrote: “Whenever the church speaks of situations of sin or when the condemns as social sins certain situations or the collective behavior of certain social groups, big or small, or even of whole nations and blocs of nations, she knows and she proclaims that such cases of social sin are the result of the accumulation and concentration of many personal sins. It is a case of the very personal sins of those who cause or support evil or who exploit it; of those who are in a position to avoid, eliminate or at least limit certain social evils but who fail to do so out of laziness, fear or the conspiracy of silence, through secret complicity or indifference; of those who take refuge in the supposed impossibility of changing the world and also of those who sidestep the effort and sacrifice required, producing specious reasons of higher order. The real responsibility, then, lies with individuals.” (Reconciliatio et Paenitentia, 16) This is a careful description of the interface between social sin and personal sin. That is, when I see that my society is in sin, what do I look for in my own life? Here, I think, is an answer.

2.       I have never heard of anyone going to confession and asking God for forgiveness for gravely evil silence or indifference. That is, I don’t think that JPII’s teaching has affected the way we celebrate this Sacrament – at least not yet.

3.       I note that there are many lists of sins floating around, with much attention recently given to the “non-negotiable” sins (from Catholic Answers??). This list of “non-negotiables” includes euthanasia, which definitely is has blurry and negotiable edges – but that’s a distraction. The real problem here is that Jesus had a list too, in Matthew 25; and his list is not a part of the way we prepare for the Sacrament of Reconciliation. That’s a serious problem. If he has a list, and you have a list, and his list isn’t on your list, then your list is complete garbage.

4.       His list is about sins of omission, like: you didn’t welcome strangers. St. Thomas Aquinas stated firmly that the sins of omission in Matthew 25 are indeed, in the categories of scholastic teaching, mortal sins. It seems to me that JPII’s list above does resemble the Lord’s list  – not point by point, but in approach.

5.       I note with great interest the reaction of the woman at the well to her celebration of reconciliation with Jesus. She danced off hollering, inviting people to check it out. It wasn’t just that she was free from shame, stepping away from something; she was free to love, racing towards something (someone). This does indeed look like the thing that Zechariah prophesied: “Blessed be the Lord, who has come to us and set us FREE … FREE to worship without fear!” That’s not about keeping cops away from the doors of our churches; that’s about drawing close to God as our Father, not as an angry and vengeful Judge.

6.       I understand the guy in the back of the church beating his breast, bowed over in shame. He’s a model, contrasted with the holy-holy braggart who stands erect. Got it. But I think there’s a before and an after, and I think the dancing whore turned exuberant story-teller is the after-shot. We aren’t supposed to come out of an encounter with God feeling clean; that’s good too, but it’s not the point. We’re supposed to come out ready to change the world. Not just erect, but dancing. Free to worship, which means – true worship, that is, in the teaching of the prophets, means – caring for the poor, because we like them, because they look like God who is an extraordinarily beautiful person (to understate it, which is the only way we can state it).

7.       It seems to me that the Sacrament of penance and reconciliation is indeed supposed to send us out ready to change the world. JPII said that it is sinful to “take refuge in the supposed impossibility of changing the world.” So freedom from social sins should mean – in part, among other things – the freedom to embark on serious efforts to change the world.

8.       I think that the whole tribunal apparatus, addressing sexual sins with a social machine that goes from parish to diocese to Rome, looks stupid in the absence of a similar social machine addressing social sins like inhospitality and war and racism. For sure, family life is fundamental. But American immigration policies since we brought the Chinese here to build our railroads has been deliberately shaped to smash families. America said to them: “Build our railroads through the mountains; but don’t bring your wife, here’s a whore; now we’re done with the work and with you, get out.” It’s ludicrous to separate family life from employment. Family life is fundamental to social life and spiritual life – fundamental, but not the whole story. Living with a second partner after a divorce may be “living in sin,” but so is institutional racism. So is a defense posture based on a gravely immoral determination to use weapons of mass destruction if “necessary.” Further, sexual sins may indeed be scandalous, but not uniquely so; other sins that include scandal are flirting with nukes, and treating whole groups of people with contempt.

9.       If there’s a tribunal examining abuses of human sexuality, why not other socially relevant sins? I’m not eager to re-institute the Inquisition! But if we don’t have a social machine wrestling with the problems of SAC and the nuclear triad, of walls, of renewed Crusades, why do we have a complex social machine to wrestle with sex? The tribunals focus on problems that are not on Jesus’ list! If we can leave questions about repentance and turning away regarding structures of evil and social sins in the hands of parish priests, why can’t we leave marriage issues there too?

10.   It seems to me – anecdotal evidence, no more than that – it seems to me that the people who care most about the work of the marriage tribunals and divorce and communion are often extraordinarily careless about social sins. I think this imbalance and division is an emergency in the life of the Church.

Do you expect that the teaching of Pope Saint John Paul II in Paenitentia et Reconciliatio, particularly  the teaching on social sin, will lead to large and systematic changes in the way we understand and celebrate this sacrament? If so, will this change – possibly end – the whole marriage tribunal apparatus?

Respectfully yours in one Lord,

John Cavanaugh-O’Keefe

Cardinal Burke and immigration

In an interview applauding the election of Donald Trump, Cardinal Burke spoke about immigration.

National Catholic Register: What about immigration, where his views diverge with the common position taken by U.S. bishops? Pope Francis also said, in comments perceived as criticism of Trump’s plan to build a wall on the Mexican-U.S. border to keep out illegal immigrants, that we should build bridges rather than walls.

Cardinal Burke: I don’t think the new president will be inspired by hatred in his treatment of the issue of immigration. These are prudential questions — of how much immigration a country can responsibly sustain, also what is the meaning of immigration, and if the immigrants are coming from one country — questions that principally address that country’s responsibility for its own citizens. Those are all questions that have to be addressed, and, certainly, the bishops of the United States have addressed them consistently, and I’m sure they will with him, too. He has these Catholic advisers; and at least some of them, I know, are very well aware of these questions, and I can’t imagine that they’re not speaking up.

[Cardinal Burke continued]

A Christian cannot close his heart to a true refugee, this is an absolute principle, there’s no question about it, but it should be done with prudence and true charity. Charity is always intelligent; it demands to know: Exactly who are these immigrants? Are they really refugees, and what communities can sustain them?

http://www.ncregister.com/daily-news/cardinal-burke-trumps-victory-a-wake-up-call-to-us-political-leaders

Let me annotate his remarks.

“I don’t think the new president will be inspired by hatred …”

If people are fleeing from barrel bombs and you refuse to help them, I don’t really care much whether your heart of full of flowers and pretty things: that’s called hatred. It’s murderous. Refusing to notice that they are humans does not make your inaction better; it makes it worse. I note with interest that in Greek, phobia means hatred OR fear; it’s a single word. The fear of Muslims can be indistinguishable from hatred, and can be gravely evil.

“These are prudential questions …”

No, they are not, or not primarily. These are questions of justice. Unless you are afraid of ghosts, which is irrational and can be gravely evil, indistinguishable from hatred. In the middle of a campaign of genocide, “prudence” is likely to be a cover for cowardice.

“… how much immigration a country can responsibly sustain …”

If an empty continent which in justice should take about a quarter of the refugees offers instead to accept refugees at a rate of about 0.1% of the total refugee population, this is indefensible. Raising this question is at best gross ignorance. And I note that despite Cardinal Burke’s rosy prognostications, Trump has worked hard to reduce the rate from trickle to zero.

“ … questions that principally address that country’s responsibility for its own citizens …”

We are in the middle of re-definition of our nation. It’s not immigrants who are re-defining it; it’s nativists who are abandoning our traditional hospitality, driving us below ZPG, refusing to uphold human rights, turning their backs on the poor of God’s world, abandoning the heart and soul of our defining Declaration. This is the destruction of our nation, and a leader who refuses to protect the nation from such destruction is – to put it mildly – not meeting his responsibility to that nations citizens.

“A Christian cannot close his heart to a true refugee …”

Yes, he can, and Cardinal Burke has shown exactly how to do it. Raise the question, after 18 months of vetting: “Is this refugee a ‘true’ refugee?”

“ … it should be done with prudence and true charity. Charity is always intelligent …”

True charity. You know, the smart charity, that finds ways to exclude refugees and feel good about it. Where I come from, when people talk about true charity, I want to hear about people laying down their lives to protect the helpless.

I note further: charity doesn’t start until you have fulfilled the demands of justice. In international law, let alone God’s law, refugees have rights. A refugee from a civil war is defending his (and his family’s) right to life – an absolute right. It is gravely wrong, a sin against justice, to refuse to help a refugee. So, again, NO: this is not a matter of charity, neither true nor “true.” It’s about justice.

“Exactly who are these immigrants?”

Jesus. Exactly. Who are you to overlook this? How in hell do you do that?

“what communities can sustain them?”

Ask King Abdullah. He accepted refugees at a rate of 3% of his total population annually. Can we do half as well as a Muslim? Ask the Scandinavians, whose rate is half of the Jordanians’ rate. Can we do half as well as the post-Christians?

Who can sustain them? I dunno, maybe God and his people, the poor of Yahweh, whose love knows no bounds?