Over at The American Conservative, my friend Rod Dreher asks his readers, How can one remain Catholic in the age of Francis and McCarrick? How can one still believe the claims the Catholic Church makes for herself?
Well, since he asked, here’s my answer.
First of all, I don’t really think of myself as “Catholic.” Catholics self-identifying as Catholics is a relatively new thing. Once upon a time, we just called ourselves Christians. Why? Because that’s what we’re called in the New Testament (Acts 11:26). All the stuff we think of as being particular to Catholicism—the pope, the Sacraments, etc.—is just part of being Christian. It’s been around since the Apostolic Era, in one form or another. We’ve simply retained that “stuff,” whereas other Christians (such as Protestants and the Orthodox) have not.
They’re still Christian, of course, by virtue of our common baptism. But Catholicism isn’t one “kind” of Christianity among others. Catholicism is Christianity in its fullness. Christianity is one; any divisions are purely manmade.
I have to bear this constantly in mind, for two reasons.
The first is so I don’t become a sectarian. I know full well that there are lots and lots of non-Catholics who are much better Christians than I am. George MacDonald is one; C. S. Lewis is another. I may have the advantage of the Sacraments (thank God), but they’re still better followers of Jesus than I am. Now, would they have been even better Jesus-followers had they, too, been in full communion with the Church? I believe so, yes. All the same, I’m a better Christian for studying at the feet of those great Christians.
The second is like unto it. It’s so I don’t forget that hardest of truths: in no way, shape, or form can I save myself. When I stand before the judgement seat, Our Blessed Lord isn’t going to say, “Well done, Michael. You professed the dogma of transubstantiation and ate fish on Fridays. Enter into my kingdom.” No. If I get to Heaven, it will all be thanks to His saving grace.
Of course, as a Catholic, I believe that the “Catholic stuff” (popes, Sacraments, etc.) are all part of His plan for our salvation. They’re means of communicating His grace, which He ordained for us. It’s all part of being a follower of Jesus. That’s not the Revised Standard Version–Catholic Edition of Christianity. That’s Christianity in its fullness.
You may ask, “Why do you believe that Catholicism is the fullness of Christianity?” The answer is, Because I had a mystical experience with the Eucharist. I don’t completely understand it. I don’t expect my experience to convince a single other soul of the Church’s claims. To be perfectly honest, I still struggle with a few of those claims myself. Yet that’s almost beside the point.
The point is this: I’m a Catholic because it’s the best way of following Jesus that I know of. It’s the way that He laid down for us. Nothing I’ve read in the news has changed that fact. The McCarrick scandal hasn’t made it harder for me to follow Jesus. Pope Francis hasn’t made it harder for me to follow Jesus. And while bishops may give scandal, He does not.
In The Arians of the Fourth Century, Cardinal Newman talks about how orthodox laypeople would gather in the desert to worship together, far away from the Arian authorities—including the bishops. And yet, despite all (worldly) odds, trinitarianism made a comeback near the end of the 500s.
The orthodox didn’t leave the Catholic Church. They didn’t feel the need. Because they knew that, at the end of the day, it wasn’t their Church. It’s Christ’s. He’s responsible for keeping His bride pure, not us.
At the end of the day, this is why I’m a Catholic still. History shows that true reformers are not those who go around with signs around their necks that say “REFORMER.” When they see corruption in the Church, they don’t take it upon themselves to purge her. They don’t retreat into a smaller, purer Church. They commit to following Jesus even more closely, to loving Him more deeply, to trusting Him more completely.
Francis of Assisi is one such saint. He didn’t respond to the crisis of his age by currying favor with the pope (or the emperor). He didn’t lead faithful bishops in rebellion or start his own splinter-church. No: he traveled the world preaching the Gospel and performing the Corporal Works of Mercy. He set himself on fire with love—love of God and love of neighbor.
Remember what St. James says: “Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.” The Devil will do anything to bespot us with his worldpox. He’ll do anything to tear our thoughts from Jesus, and to drive out His love from our hearts.
And Satan’s most delicious triumph comes when we turn against pure religion in favor of impure religion. That could mean heresy or schism. It could also mean spending all of our time on the Internet seething over the errors of this bishop or the sins of that priest.
It’s so easy to think that, because we spend all our time talking about religion, we’re spending all our time doing religion. Take my word for it: the stuff you find on Christian “news” sites is to religion what porn is to Holy Matrimony.
I hope it goes without saying that I’m not talking about Rod Dreher, who’s undoubtedly a better Christian than I am. I’m only trying to explain why the recent crises in the Catholic Church have not shaken my faith.
In short, it’s because I don’t believe there’s a crisis in the Church. There is, rather, a crisis in men’s hearts. In fact, there are as many crises as there are hearts—millions of crises in billions of hearts. Some are quite famous. Others are known only to God. Yet the answer to all of them is exactly the same: Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.
Friends, in case it’s of interest, I have a longish essay in the latest print edition of The American Conservative. It’s called “Christian Realism vs. the Simulation World”. I’m quite proud of this one, so I hope you like it. Peace and the Good!