Last week a friend sent me this tweet:
For those of you who don’t know, Dr. Taylor Marshall is Episcopal minister-turned-Catholic vlogger. In other words, not the sort of person most liberals would want to become a priest.
Far be it from me to call him a liar, of course. But if what he says is true, those bishops were morons. I know five married priests, all of whom are solidly orthodox Catholics. They spend hours every week in the confessional. They’re willing to broach controversial subjects in their homilies. And they’re all totally masculine.
I’d say maybe 25 percent of the celibate priests I know check all of those boxes. That’s why I’m in favor of letting married men become diocesan priests. In fact, I think Father T-Marsh would’ve been a boon to the Church.
But Dr. Marshall’s tweet is part of a trend in traditionalist Catholic circles. It’s the language of fragility. That expression “USE MY LIFE” is straight out of Teen Vogue. I don’t say that to be cruel. It’s just a fact.
Likewise, last year, I wrote a piece arguing that (some) traditionalists’ open hostility towards Pope Francis helped to justify restricting the Latin Mass. I said that, since he holds all the cards, our best bet going forward is to be more respectful of the Holy Father. That didn’t go over well:
I can see why traditionalists wouldn’t like my article, but I’m not here to rehash my thesis. I’m talking about the tone of their complaints. Again, this is the language of fragility. We’re “victims,” our opponents are “abusers” or “bullies,” and anyone who disagrees is “blaming the victim.”
Why is TradCat culture getting so weak?
Partly it’s because we spend too much time on the internet. Social media is a left-wing space owned by left-wing corporations and peopled mostly with left-wingers. At the moment, the Left is fetishizing victimhood. Naturally, anyone who lurks on those sites is going to absorb left-wing values.
These trads are also (consciously or not) drawing parallels with the Church’s sex abuse crisis. It’s no secret that bishops will bend over backwards to avoid any accusation of abuse. They’ll make payouts to alleged victims and dismiss accused priests, even if there’s no real evidence that abuse took place.
Obviously, Francis isn’t going to fall for that gimmick. And rightly so. I think he should repeal his new restrictions on the Latin Mass, of course. But not because some guy on the internet called him a meanie.
It’s pretty of jarring, to be honest. These guys talk about how real men prefer the Latin Mass because Novus Ordo parishes are run by old liberal Karens. They say that real men don’t watch porn or use condoms: they save it for marriage and then have a bunch of kids. There are lots of memes of rosary beads next to Glocks and cigars.
And you know what? That’s all great! I love it. I really do. But then, when push comes to shove, we’re as fragile as everyone else. We can’t handle criticism. We can’t stand to be contradicted, or to have our will thwarted. We have no emotional self-discipline.
Case in point: on Monday, Francis told the Priestly Fraternity of St. Peter (a traditionalist religious order) that his Latin Mass regulations don’t apply to them. It was very good news! And yet professional trads began posting missives declaring that Francis is merely trying to “corral” traditionalists into an FSSP ghetto before banning the Latin Mass outright.
Of course, they couldn’t say, “Wow, look at this good thing Francis did. Kudos to the Pope.” Not after spending the last five years saying that Francis is trying to destroy the Church from within. It might hurt the brand.
As for the rest of us, the whole thief-of-joy routine lets us go on feeling bad for ourselves. It also makes us weaker, less resilient.
Yet think of St. Lawrence—who, while being roasted alive by the Romans, called out: “Turn me over! I’m done on this side.” And think of St. Thomas More—who, walking to the scaffolds, said to his executioner: “See me safe up. Coming down, I can shift for myself.”
Saints are brave, strong, and cheerful in the face of adversity. We are… not. And that may prove to be a real problem down the line.
The day will come—and soon—when Christians are forced to suffer for our faith. I don’t know what form that suffering will take. Progressives have revealed that they’re willing to use physical and economic force against their opponents. Someday, that may include traditionalist Catholics. It may include everyone who upholds traditional Christian teachings on abortion, or sexuality, or (the nonexistence of) gender.
What then? Are we going to go on Twitter and complain about our abuse? What other tools have we trained ourselves to use?
Clearly, we need a Christian antifragility movement. According to Nassim Talib, “Antifragility is beyond resilience or robustness.” Antifragile things “benefit from shocks; they thrive and grow when exposed to volatility, randomness, disorder, and stressors and love adventure, risk, and uncertainty.”
The martyrs and missionaries of old were antifragile. They not only accepted life’s sufferings: they embraced them. They took real joy in the privilege of being able to suffer and fight and die for the sake of Christ’s Church. Life’s trials weren’t something to complain about. They were God’s way of allowing us to share in His glory, by making us vehicles for His strength.
The good news is that, in a way, it’s actually easier to be brave in the face of a real threat. Maybe we complain about the mild inconveniences we’ve faced during the Francis papacy because there’s nothing else to do about them. But I hope that, when the time comes for action, we’ll act. In the event of real persecution, we’ll face our persecutors with bravery and love.
But if that’s our goal, we should start practicing now. There are lots of ways to grow spiritually stronger, especially as we approach the season of Lent. Fasting, prayer, and almsgiving will always do the trick.
Working out would also help. Building physical strength requires mental toughness. It helps one to develop self-discipline. We trads like to talk about the “New Chivalry,” by which we mostly mean quitting porn and saying the Rosary. Again, those are great things to do! But if you read the old manuals of chivalry, half of it is physical. (Get up early, eat plain foods, take plenty of exercise, etc.)
A big part of the reason we’re fragile is because we’ve ignored the ascetic dimension of Christianity. Yet, according to the old chivalrous writers, a layman should be as austere as a monk!
And with strength comes joy. Sir Geoffroi de Charny said, “Because of their great desire to reach and attain that high honor,” Christian knights “do not care what sufferings they have to endure, but turn everything into great enjoyment.” For “strength and purpose and cheerfulness of heart make it possible to bear all things gladly and confidently.”
I guess that’s easier said than done. Still, all the more reason to start practicing now. Learn how to bear the little crosses manfully. Then, when they come, you can bear the greater crosses joyfully. And remember, nobody ever worked out his salvation by whining on Twitter.
Friends, here are the articles I published this week:
1. “What the Church Learned from the Sex Abuse Crisis” in The American Conservative
2. “Say hello to Trans Jesus” in The Spectator
3. “Pop culture is making Millennials miserable” in The Spectator
As always, if you’d like to support this (free!) newsletter, I’d be grateful if you would consider purchasing a copy of my book The Reactionary Mind.
Peace and the Good!