Over the past couple of weeks, I've been in several conversations--both virtually and non-virtually--with people--both Catholic and non-Catholic--about the Synod on the Family. Fueled in large part by a draft relatio (report) at the end of last week, we find ourselves in the bizarre situation of a rather robust public discourse on one of the Catholic Church's oldest and most obscure internal practices.
And this one has been marked by drama. Over at Crux, John L. Allen's piece bears a headline calling the Synod a "soap opera." The cast of characters, emotions, and overreactions by almost everyone in the scene seems to bear out Allen's analysis. (Although until someone gets slapped in the face--as legend has St. Nicholas reprimanding Arius--the Council Nicaea in 325 CE still takes the cake for drama.)
Mediated as it is by press conferences and interviews, many folks are tempted to blame the media for exaggerating or even creating the drama. Not far behind blaming the news media is the tired refrain of blaming new media for the nefarious effects of up-to-the-minute information.
But is our situation a new one? Yes, of course...and no, of course not.
In the late 19th century, there prevailed the idea among some American bishops (known as "Americanists") that their situation in the US was unique. This compelled them to think and say things about individual liberty and the place of the church in society that did not sit well with the Vatican. In 1899, Pope Leo XIII issued an encyclical letter, Testem Benevolentiae Nostrae, basically telling them to get in line.
What seems to us like a pretty boring historical moment in the relatively short history of the American Catholic church was a hot topic in 1899. All kinds of newspapers--some Catholic, many not--published articles and editorials, offering analysis of both the encyclical and the Americanist position. People were blamed; names were called. Everyone read it as soon as it could all be printed.
The Americanist controversy had issues and concerns that were different from the Synod on the Family. What obtains today, though, is the public desire to have knowledge of and weigh in on the workings of the Catholic Church. Both situations have another similarity: a pope unafraid of the media of his time. We do not think of the encyclical as a particularly modern medium--it has all the trappings of pre-modern, aristocratic models of public discourse. It is, however, effectively an "open letter," one that could communicate the teachings, desires, and concerns of the church to a wide audience. And Leo loved them.
For his part, Pope Francis has been a veritable master of the media of his own time. Opting instead for the medium of interview, Francis has captured the attention of the entire world. People who did not care about the Catholic Church three years ago care about it now. And on twitter and facebook, and in bars and classrooms, the name "Francis" is on the lips of young people.
Many people want to talk about the "Francis effect," a kind of hopeful change in tone that has affected the theological discourse and pastoral inflection of the church. But this effect is not just internal; Francis has re-invigorated the desire for media that is focused on the church from the outside as well.
This reinvigorated desire carries a promise and a challenge. The promise is that younger Catholics and young people in general might find the space to engage intelligently with the church. This intelligent and vigorous engagement might actually keep them in or bring them to the church. At the very least, it may serve to raise religious literacy in America, something of which we are sorely in need.
The challenge is that, much like the church itself, the media must find ways to draw young people into careers that can give it a future. This challenge will only be met through creativity and openness. News outlets must be creative enough to move beyond 'using' new media to focus on shaping it. They must also be open enough to listen to millennials instead of dismissing and lamenting them.
Our media change and evolve, and although at a much slower pace, so do religious institutions. Instead of seeing them at odds, assuming the worst of one or both, we should enter bravely into the spaces of knowledge, debate and dialogue before us.
And this one has been marked by drama. Over at Crux, John L. Allen's piece bears a headline calling the Synod a "soap opera." The cast of characters, emotions, and overreactions by almost everyone in the scene seems to bear out Allen's analysis. (Although until someone gets slapped in the face--as legend has St. Nicholas reprimanding Arius--the Council Nicaea in 325 CE still takes the cake for drama.)
Mediated as it is by press conferences and interviews, many folks are tempted to blame the media for exaggerating or even creating the drama. Not far behind blaming the news media is the tired refrain of blaming new media for the nefarious effects of up-to-the-minute information.
But is our situation a new one? Yes, of course...and no, of course not.
In the late 19th century, there prevailed the idea among some American bishops (known as "Americanists") that their situation in the US was unique. This compelled them to think and say things about individual liberty and the place of the church in society that did not sit well with the Vatican. In 1899, Pope Leo XIII issued an encyclical letter, Testem Benevolentiae Nostrae, basically telling them to get in line.
What seems to us like a pretty boring historical moment in the relatively short history of the American Catholic church was a hot topic in 1899. All kinds of newspapers--some Catholic, many not--published articles and editorials, offering analysis of both the encyclical and the Americanist position. People were blamed; names were called. Everyone read it as soon as it could all be printed.
The Americanist controversy had issues and concerns that were different from the Synod on the Family. What obtains today, though, is the public desire to have knowledge of and weigh in on the workings of the Catholic Church. Both situations have another similarity: a pope unafraid of the media of his time. We do not think of the encyclical as a particularly modern medium--it has all the trappings of pre-modern, aristocratic models of public discourse. It is, however, effectively an "open letter," one that could communicate the teachings, desires, and concerns of the church to a wide audience. And Leo loved them.
For his part, Pope Francis has been a veritable master of the media of his own time. Opting instead for the medium of interview, Francis has captured the attention of the entire world. People who did not care about the Catholic Church three years ago care about it now. And on twitter and facebook, and in bars and classrooms, the name "Francis" is on the lips of young people.
Many people want to talk about the "Francis effect," a kind of hopeful change in tone that has affected the theological discourse and pastoral inflection of the church. But this effect is not just internal; Francis has re-invigorated the desire for media that is focused on the church from the outside as well.
This reinvigorated desire carries a promise and a challenge. The promise is that younger Catholics and young people in general might find the space to engage intelligently with the church. This intelligent and vigorous engagement might actually keep them in or bring them to the church. At the very least, it may serve to raise religious literacy in America, something of which we are sorely in need.
The challenge is that, much like the church itself, the media must find ways to draw young people into careers that can give it a future. This challenge will only be met through creativity and openness. News outlets must be creative enough to move beyond 'using' new media to focus on shaping it. They must also be open enough to listen to millennials instead of dismissing and lamenting them.
Our media change and evolve, and although at a much slower pace, so do religious institutions. Instead of seeing them at odds, assuming the worst of one or both, we should enter bravely into the spaces of knowledge, debate and dialogue before us.
No comments:
Post a Comment