Why I’m Not “Just Catholic”: A Response to Michael Barber

Michael Barber has written a post which is in part dedicated to the very distressing question every Catholic has been asked at least once: “Are you a liberal or conservative Catholic?” He writes:

I absolutely hate that question. What it tries to do is politicize the Church. And when people ask me that question I tell them exactly that and then say, “I’m just Catholic.” I believe what the Catholic Church teaches.

Like Michael, I too have been caught in many a are-you-conservative-or-liberal conversation. I’ve gone back and forth on how best to handle this hot potato, and for a good portion of my last 12 years as a Catholic, I’ve usually said something similar to Michael’s response. “I’m just Catholic”—or something like that.

Lately, though, I’ve come to realize that I’m not “just Catholic”. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been “just Catholic”. In fact, I have to openly admit, in the electronic nakedness of this weblog, that I’ve always slouched toward conservatism. Of late, some of my friends have told me that I’ve become “liberal”, by which they mean, I think, that I disagree with them on what they regard as some touchstone issues. (I do have to admit that my theology has loosened up in recent years, though I’m not sure if this warrants an expulsion to “the other side” just yet.)

A teacher of mine once said, “Where two or three are gathered in Jesus’ name, there will be politics among them”. In the last 12 years, I’ve not only witnessed but been entangled in far more politics than I’m made for, so I’d have to agree with him. Of course, the Church is more than a political institution, but it is certainly nothing less than a political institution insofar as it is also a human one. The labels “conservative” and “liberal” are attempts—inadequate ones, I think—to articulate this “politicization”, and whether or not one agrees with the taxonomy, the variance within the Church in terms of theology and practice, it seems to me, is an undeniable reality.

I do hold, with some measure of tenacity, to Tradition, to Scripture, to the Rule of Faith expressed in the creeds and ecumenical councils—all of which I believe to lie at the heart of the Catholic faith. But it’s also become clearer and clearer to me in recent years that within that Catholic faith there is an acceptable range of variation in belief and practice—an orthodox spectrum within these elements, if you will. The Fathers were a diverse bunch, as my survey of the evidence suggests, and I’ve come to be pretty much open to whatever they were open to, even though I’m not without my own biases. What I’ve found is that Tradition, Scripture and the Rule of Faith usually expect less of me than the many self-professed purveyors of “true Catholicism”.

I can no longer call myself “just Catholic” because I think the term to be rather dishonest. It tends to imply that people who disagree with me are errant, though they may in fact fall within the pale of historic orthodoxy. When I look back at my days of being “just Catholic”, I realize that I was in fact what most people would call a “conservative Catholic” with a low tolerance for authentic catholicity. The only species of Catholicism I knew was entirely the “current” version, for I understood as “Catholic” only those ideas and practices in the contemporary consciousness of the Church. As far as I was concerned, Rome had always appointed every bishop in the Catholic Church, “the Magisterium” had always referred primarily to the Pope and the curial offices, bishops had always been celibate, and every Christian right back to the Mother of God believed in the Assumption. My historical memory stretched back to some time around 1854, and maybe 1543 if I pushed it back really hard. (Ironically, there wasn’t very much to my “conservation” after all.) But the deeper I pushed my shovel into the mess of history, the more diverse the treasures that emerged. For example, there was St. John of Damascus’ articulation of the Eucharistic change, which seemed dangerously “Lutheran”. Many times I found huge messes too, like the Chalcedonian aftermath and why Nestorians aren’t really Nestorians and the Monophysites not really Monophysites. What I unearthed and continue to unearth suggests that my understanding “just Catholic” was just too monolithic and very much “up-to-date”.

Based on my experience, “I am just Catholic” is an ambiguous expression that is always restricted by one’s understanding of Catholicism (which, in my case, was a very narrow one). What the response usually means is this: “I’m simply orthodox, whereas the so-called ‘conservatives’ and ‘liberals’ have simply fallen of the tightrope of true Catholicism.” Now, I don’t think that everyone who regards themselves as “just Catholic” intends this meaning, but my experience suggests that most people do, if only unconsciously. Insofar as this is true, I’m hesitant to call myself “just Catholic” because it splits the Church into three factions—the “just Catholics”, the conservatives and the liberals—instead of the usual two. Aside from the fact that “just Catholics” are usually just conservatives who just won’t admit it (there, I said it), it smacks of a self-righteousness that only furthers division in the Church. I’ve always found it telling that, in the many factions that plagued the early Christians in Corinth, there was one group that trumped all others with the most exclusive and divisive of claims:

. . . [E]ach one of you says, “I follow Paul,” or “I follow Apollos,” or “I follow Cephas,” or “I follow Christ.” (1 Corinthians 1.12)

I mean, who could beat the “I follow Christ” party? The fact, remains, however, that they were just another tear in the fabric of the Corinthian church, regardless of how they viewed themselves.

As far as Michael’s post goes, even he himself cannot refrain from using the terms “liberal” and “progressive” toward the end of his analysis of the TIME magazine article, even if his usage is softened with inverted commas.

Of course, there are Catholics who identify themselves as conservative or liberal. Some will say that “Catholic” isn’t good enough for them. They’ve decided the Church doesn’t fit well with their own theology. They want something different: “let’s repeal Vatican II, it did too much” (”conservatives”) or “let’s have a Vatican III, it didn’t change enough”.

. . . . I specifically recall having a Confirmation teacher who liked to take issue with this or that belief, explaining that, for example, things like “hell” were not really something we needed to accept as Catholics. “Hmmm,” I remember thinking, “If he doesn’t believe what Catholics believe, why would he still want to be Catholic? Why not join a church he thinks is correct?”

Of course, such Catholics as my confirmation teacher would quickly identify themselves as “progressive” or “liberal” Catholics. Well, all I have to say is that not too many people from my generation have got “hip” to their ideas. We recognize that many of them have devoted their lives to serving the Church—many of them were our religious education teachers—and we love them. But those such movements are clearly fading. I know it. Others my age know it. It’s just a fact.

It then quickly degenerates into a crude “us-them” mentality:

Let’s face it, those who want to change the Church’s teaching on birth control and abortion are just not reproducing themselves as fast as those who accept it. And, frankly, looking at the “progress” they’ve made in the last forty years doesn’t really inspire hope in younger people that the “cause” to change the Church in such ways is really going to take off.

Who does “they” refer to, but those whom the author would regard as “liberals” or those who are “not just Catholics”? In the end, there is still “us” and “them”, both of which claim to belong to the one Catholic Church. Neither the factions nor the corresponding terms have dissolved; they’ve simply been repackaged and relabeled.

Personally, I think its more honest to just own up the fact that there are legitimate conservative-liberal distinctions in the Church, and then use the conventional labels more consistently (and unabashedly). The conservative-versus-liberal dilemma isn’t just a matter of semantics. It’s a matter of our fallen human nature and its propensity to divide and be divided. I say we at least admit to that, and then take it from there. If I’m actually “for Paul” rather than “for Cephas”, I should say so. Then I can let St. Paul take me to task for it.

Let this be clear: I don’t actually have a good answer to the “Are you a liberal or conservative Catholic?” question. I do think, however, that answering, “I’m just Catholic” doesn’t do much except create a new category. In many cases, I’ll add, it also constitutes a failure to admit that my or another person’s understanding of Catholicism might actually have legitimate leanings one way or another. But these leanings aren’t always bad. St. Basil and St. Augustine probably thought about war differently, but we don’t have to deny either of them admission into the Hall of the Fathers.

The next time someone asks me, “Are you a liberal or conservative Catholic?”, I’ll probably ask, “What do you mean by that?” After all, I’m part lib, part con.