The Working Catholic: 501-C-3 By Bill Droel

According to an IRS rule, churches (and other non-profits) “are absolutely prohibited from directly or indirectly participating in or intervening in any political campaign.” The current Republican Party platform, reports Kevin Baker (N.Y. Times, 8/28/16), wants the rule overturned. The platform plank is a response to some evangelical organizations that desire more direct electoral influence. Catholic institutions wisely know that the current “no politicking” rule is better politically and better theologically.

The current tax-exemption rule is better politically because it saves face for Catholic institutions. They simply cannot deliver the vote. Catholic voters no longer take their cues from Church employees. In fact, when a pastor or bishop wades too deeply into a partisan area, his parishioners drift to the other side.

Likewise, a change in the tax-exemption rule would be bad for Catholic institutions because neither electoral party clearly reflects the moral positions of Catholicism.

A change in the no-politicking rule is also bad theology, or to use jargon, bad ecclesiology.

If a Catholic is prompted to reflect on models of the church, she or he might reply: “My parish uses a collaborative model” or “Our pastor has an authoritarian model.” There is, however, a less parochial way to think about models of the church.  That is, to think about how the church is situated within society and culture.

Back in the Middle Ages the church was nearly synonymous with society. Its bishops were the primary influence agents and—for better or worse—acted directly in the palaces and courts of the elites.

With modernity Catholicism (now differentiated from Protestantism) experimented with different models in different locales. For example, in what could be called the lay auxiliary model, Catholicism developed parallel organizations (unions, professional guilds, Christian Democratic parties) designed to extend “the apostolate of the hierarchy.” The goal was to offset some secular trends and, after 1848 specifically, to combat atheistic communism. This model was more popular in Europe than in the U.S.

Eventually at Vatican II (1962-1965), Catholicism adopted the cultural-pastoral model. Church institutions in this model are fully separate from civil and secular support. Not because Catholicism is opposed to modernity, but because it has better credibility if its institutions are apolitical. This model is premised on lay Christians taking full, independent responsibility for diminishing injustice in workplaces, bringing harmony to family and neighborhood life, promoting the common good in civic associations and enhancing dignity in culture. Lay people act not as representatives of their bishop, but as baptized Christians, eager to cooperate with God’s on-going creation and redemption.

 It is true that 50 years after Vatican II a bishop here and there speaks too specifically about partisan topics. Why? Perhaps because he doesn’t understand or accept Vatican II? Or maybe because he is bored with his proper duty? A bishop is to constantly and sometimes loudly teach Catholic doctrine, including its planks on the right to life, the right of workers to make independent decisions about labor unions, about the integrity of the family, about hospitality to strangers, about dignity regardless of race or sexual orientation, about the social sin of poverty and more. It is a theological and political mistake, however, when a bishop in his ecclesial role expresses an opinion about a zoning matter, about increasing or lowering government farm subsidies, about what he thinks is the best legislative approach for reducing the number of abortions, about allocation of police personnel in various city districts and more. In recent years a few bishops have even tipped their miter toward the Republican presidential candidate. (They cannot do so in the 2016 race because the Republican candidate is blatantly anti-immigrant among other objections.)

When told he is getting a tad too specific and thereby violating Vatican II’s cultural-pastoral model, a bishop says in effect: “Well, the laity are not properly formed in the faith. They even support some anti-Catholic public policies. I therefore have to set the record straight.” This is a circular argument. The more Church employees in their role as employees talk about partisan positions, the less interested are the laity in the teachings of our faith.

Droel edits INITIATIVES (PO Box 291102, Chicago, IL 60629), a newsletter about faith and work.

The Working Catholic: Dick Allen by Bill Droel

Chicago White Sox hurler Chris Sale forgot that he is a member of a powerful labor union. Instead of following normal grievance procedure, he recently used a scissors to voice his objection to a management decision and destroyed team uniforms. Further, Sale by-passed his union steward, outfielder Adam Eaton, by whining that his manager should have addressed his grievance. He thus joins the list of rogue Sox.

It is not necessary to go all the way back to the 1919 Black Sox. Albert Belle, who played two seasons for the Sox in the late 1990s, exhibited a temper. So too on several occasions did Ozzie Guillen, a Sox infielder 1985-1997 and its manager 2004-2011.  Jimmy Piersall, afflicted with bipolar disorder, was not a Sox player but was fired as their announcer for his criticisms of management. Then there is Dick Allen, who in 1972 brought his controversial reputation to Chicago.

Unlike Jackie Robinson (1919-1972) and other pioneering black major leaguers, Allen “would not follow Branch Rickey’s (1881-1965) directive to turn the other cheek and accept subordinate racial status,” writes Mitchell Nathanson in God Almighty Hisself: the Life and Legacy of Dick Allen (University of Pennsylvania Press, 2016). That is, Allen was in the second generation of black players and was not into “protecting and promoting illusions.”

 Allen began his major league career in 1964 with the Philadelphia Phillies. He was used in unfamiliar positions, was injured on-and-off and was given a nickname (Richie) that was never before applied to him. In those days before a union and before free agency, Allen was annually a spring holdout for a higher salary. Allen also scuffled with other players, including a fight. He was late to the ballpark and violated curfew. To cope with his own shyness, Allen gave contradictory explanations to the press. In the opinion of some younger people, Allen was a cool guy. But many Philadelphia writers and fans considered him lackadaisical and the boors among them threw garbage, occasionally including a battery, at Allen. Although Allen “took no formal position” on race relations or urban discontent, Nathanson writes, he “became the symbolic face that unleashed white anxiety and discontent.”

How did Allen perform? During his seasons in Philadelphia (1964-1969), Allen was Rookie of the Year and three-time All Star (seven total appearances in his career).

After shorter stints with two National League teams, Allen came to our Sox and promptly staged a 41-day salary holdout. But, at least for awhile, Sox’ manager Chuck Tanner (1928-2011) knew how to handle Allen without ridicule or excessive pushback. In fact under Tanner, Allen was named team captain. As Nathanson wisely notes, Allen didn’t suddenly change his personality. “What changed was his employers’ understanding of him.”

Cubs’ manager Joe Madden, who at the moment is revered in Chicago, says he learned from Allen: “The more freedom the players feel out there, the greater discipline and respect you’re going to get in return.” If in any company, Madden continues, “employees have to come in and be concerned about a bunch of tedious nonsense, it’s going to prevent them from performing.”

Speaking for many of us on the South Side, former Sox’ executive Roland Hemond says: “Chuck Tanner and I both felt that Allen helped saved the franchise” by boosting fan interest. There was at the time pressure from some Sox’ owners and other club owners to move our team to Milwaukee or maybe Seattle.  

Nathanson does not absolve Allen from problems that swirled around him. But “the true villain in [Allen’s] story was bigger and more all-encompassing than any individual.” Racism, of course. In Allen’s case it took the form of expecting each black to meet so-called traditional expectations. The wider lesson, however, is one that applies to all sports, to the tech industry (particularly to the biggest companies), to food growing and distribution industry, to hospitals and colleges that rely on part-timers, to major retail stores and more. Allen, writes Nathanson, opposed the idea that workers “were property to be bought, sold, valued and discarded by owners at their whim.” Despite the intentions of any one executive or any one employee, there can be an entire “system geared toward exploitation.” This, by the way, is what Catholicism means by saying exploitation is an objective sin, even if an executive is kindly or if an employee labors out of necessity or even to serve the church.

Allen’s stats qualify him for the Hall of Fame. Yet baseball philosopher Bill James is opposed, not because of any specific disruption, but because Allen “did more to keep his teams from winning than anybody else who ever played.” The decision is now up to the Golden Era Committee at the Hall. It meets in 2017 and will vote on the matter.

Droel edits INITIATIVES (PO Box 291102, Chicago, IL 60629), a free printed newsletter on faith and work.

Hail the Fifth Irish Brigade

My son Joel who lives in London and his in-laws are aficionados of Irish folk music.  Recently Joel gave me a delightful CD with songs written and performed by Irish folk singer and writer, Christy Moore.  I was especially fascinated by a ballad called “Vive la Quinte Brigada.” (Christy Moore’s version of the Spanish - “Viva la Quinta Brigada” – Hail the Fifth Brigade.)

   The song, relates the story of Irish volunteers who traveled to Spain to fight the Fascist General Franco to prevent him from taking over the Spanish Republic in 1936.  The Spanish civil war was a prelude to WW II.  The song narrative also relates that the Irish Roman Catholic hierarchy and the Irish media supported Franco.  With the encouragement of the Bishops and the newspapers, Ireland also sent troops to the aid of Franco.  After claiming infallibility in faith and morals, (Vatican I – 1869-1870) the Vatican supported Franco whose Fascist cause was facilitated by troops, arms, and bombing raids by Hitler and Mussolini. Franco prevailed in his “golpe del estado” In 1939.    Adam Hochschild writes in his book, Spain in Our Hearts:

“In Madrid, Nationalist troops, plus units of their German and Italian allies, marched through the city in a victory parade, while war planes were arrayed in formation to spell out Viva Franco in the sky. The exodus of refugees, mostly on foot, grew to half a million. ‘Lifting our hearts to God,’ said a telegram of congratulations to Franco from Pope Pius XII, ‘we give sincere thanks with your Excellency for the victory of Catholic Spain.”

   The Fascist tendencies of the U.S. Republican Party, such as extreme nationalism, racism, attacks on voter rights, and a militant anti-labor stance make Christy Moore’s “Vive la Quinte Brigada,”  in the current political milieu of the U.S.,  more than just a delightful ballad.   The megalomania of the Republican Party’s candidate for President is an alarm clock to wake us to the possibility of a Fascist type of government in the U.S.    

  

   For me Christy Moore’s ballad is enjoyable Irish music, but it is also historically interesting and politically relevant.  Lincoln in his Gettysburg Address indicated that U.S. Democracy is a work in progress. We constantly need a politics of adjustment in every historical situation to make our democracy more a rule “of the people, by the people, and for the people.” But Fascism is not the answer.

Labor Day Reflection 2016

23rd Sunday of Ordinary Time - Cycle C

4 September 2016

St. Benedict the Moor Parish

Milwaukee, WI

I have been asked to share some remarks in light of it being Labor Day weekend. Naturally, there are many ways that one can develop a reflection for this annual September observance. We could talk about the principles of Catholic Social Teaching. We could be risky and make some witty comments about the November election and issues like free trade deals, the “Fight for Fifteen” and maternity leave policies. We could talk about the decline experienced in union membership. We could speak about rights in the workplace.

Perhaps a better place to begin is Pope Francis. From the beginning of his Pontificate, my jaw has dropped from his gestures. Days after the conclave, he returned to his pre-conclave hotel to pay the bill himself. I like to imagine him saying, “Oh, yes, I checked in under a different name.”

At about the same time, he called the kiosk in Argentina to cancel his newspaper subscription. Or remember when he visited the Vatican print shop or ate with Vatican workers in the cafeteria.   I suspect that everyone finished their vegetables that day before launching into dessert!

What then, might Pope Francis be calling us to, given this example? First, Pope Francis, over and over again, gives witness to seeing the poor who are most often invisible to us.

Second, in this Jubilee Year of Mercy, Pope Francis asks us to see our participation in the economy more clearly. So much of what he has written in recent years is structured around the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Frankly, I hear him talking about confession far more than his recent predecessors. His recent book, The Name of God is Mercy, recounts stories of Pope John Paul I as a great confessor, and Pope Francis shares advice to priests about being a confessor. On Thursday, Pope Francis’ message for the Day of Prayer for the Care of Creation is structured around the Rite of Reconciliation:  an examination of conscience, the confession itself, “a firm purpose of amendment,” and, perhaps a penance in the additional corporal and spiritual works of mercy.

What might it mean for me to see more clearly? There is an old phrase: “Every time you spend money, you’re casting a vote for the kind of world you want.” How do I spend and what does it suggest about me? Since February, I go to the Metro Market on Van Buren and Juneau. Sadly, I do not know one employee there by name. They have been kind enough: they direct me to the item I need, they ring up my purchases, and they place my items in my durable bags. They keep the store clean and shelves stocked, and I have not bothered to learn one name. Also, if I reflect upon my purchases, I eat cereal with fruit almost every day for breakfast. Today, I had Honey Nut Cheerios with fresh strawberries. There is a boycott on Driscoll’s right now as some workers in Mexico claim that they are paid just $6 a day for their labors. My shirt was made in Bangladesh. The workers who made this shirt were probably paid about $2.20, not for this shirt, but for their day’s labor. When we go home for lunch, the lettuce on our sandwich or in our salad was harvested by an underpaid worker. If we stop for fast food or go to a restaurant, we know the wages cannot care for a family. Our cell phones, chocolate, coffee, and clothing are rife with supply chains that include human trafficking and systemic violations of people’s human rights. Is there anything we can do? Is the Gospel simply inspirational? Or is it programmatic?

The second reading, Paul’s letter to Philemon, suggests a personal way forward. As Catholics, our reading of the Bible is often uneven. Some may have read the Scriptures cover-to-cover, but, if you have never read a book of the Bible all the way through, here is your chance. Philemon is just 25 verses, and we heard a very significant portion today. To get inside it, we need to understand that we have heard just half of a conversation. Another half-- what lead up to it or what follows-- is shrouded in a certain mystery, but we can make some educated guesses.

Philemon was a wealthy man is Colossae. He gets a letter from St. Paul, who had baptized him. Paul was writing from prison, “a prisoner for Christ.” Getting a letter back in those days was an important thing, and such a letter would have been read aloud, often in front of an audience. In days before FedEx and UPS and the U.S. Postal Service, this letter was carried by someone close to Paul, by all appearances the letter was carried by Onesimus. Who was Onesimus? He apparently was baptized by Paul, served him during his imprisonment, and, now, Paul is sending a person dear to his own heart to Philemon. But there is another crucial detail about the message and the messenger. Onesimus, a runaway slave, had been a slave to Philemon. Paul’s message: receive Onesimus as a brother.

What is Philemon to do? He has three choices, it would seem. First, Onesimus is a runaway slave. If Philemon receives him as a brother, Philemon risks losing all of his other slaves. He also risks a shunning from his social and economic peers. He has every “right” to put Philemon to death. Second, perhaps, he could be merciful and give him a severe flogging or make him a “house slave” rather than a “field slave.” The third, most radical choice, is to do as Paul asks: receive him as a brother, again risking all on behalf of the Gospel.

Given such choices and ramifications, what did he do? I would suggest, as many others have, that he indeed did receive him as a brother. First, that the letter exists today suggests that this is  true. If he had killed or merely flogged Onesimus, he probably would have destroyed the letter. Instead, that the letter survives suggests that it was lovingly cared for and held in a place of respect. Secondly, and while this is far less assured to be one and the same person, following St. Timothy as bishop of the nearby city of Ephesus was a bishop named Onesimus. The romantic in me likes the notion that a former slave became a bishop in the early church.

We are embedded in networks of privilege, prejudice and power so commonplace that often neither oppressors nor victims are aware of them. Hence, the violence and pain that most afflicts us today is hidden:  the violence that afflicts the poor, that poisons relationships between communities and nations, that allows for a slow decay of culture and makes us indifferent.  Though not as noticeable as a bomb or a gunshot, these realities are just as deadly.  Like Philemon, we must have the vision to see and the courage to act.

We are called to re-imagine God’s preference for the poor. We live in what Pope Francis calls a “throwaway culture,” that treats people as things and is tempted to discard the weak and the vulnerable, those without money or power or voice. This story upends that vision and makes “useful” one who was deemed useless. It is life in solidarity, an old word, but our word. Solidarity is not a one-time gesture, but a permanent way of being in the world. The vision to see and the courage to act is about being in right relationship with God, with family, with my adversary, with the low wage worker, with care of our common home. The radical vision of seeing the other as Christ, of receiving the other as a brother or sister, is as powerful today as in the days of Scripture. If we really seek to live it, it will upend our world, and we will upend the world.

Christopher Cox

Campaign Manager

Human Thread Campaign

www.humanthreadcampaign.org